Keeping Secrets

Elijah Christensen was a sensitive boy, unable to cause harm to any living creature. He captured the spiders that built webs in the garage, carrying them out to the old shed in the back yard. There was a black snake on the back porch one spring morning, and he captured it, carrying it to the barn where it could eat mice and other snakes. He refused to kill roaches, and when his brothers would go to the pond to fish, he would sit on the bank, just watching, as they tortured the fish with hooks in order to catch them, until he didn’t want to watch anymore. His older brothers made fun of him, which caused their mother to scold them for their cruelty.

Elijah endured his brother’s torments, at times simply sneaking off, down to the pond, or the barn where he could play in the hayloft, or he would roam the pasture, following the barb wire fence. But the torments at school, those were different. There was the stealing of his lunch or knocking the books out of his hands while calling him names. At first, he didn’t really understand the names, the meaning of them as they were being applied to him. In the last two months, he began to understand.

Sissy. Ma-ma’s boy. The implication was clear. But when he was called faggot and queer, those scared him the most with the way they labeled him in a way he was beginning to comprehend. He knew he was different, but queer? It eluded him the full meaning of it, until he caught himself staring at Noah in the cafeteria. Then he knew.

At thirteen, he was tall and skinny, towering over most of the other boys. He was even taller than his brother, Adam, who was over a year older. But there were similarities, for like his brothers, he had his mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes, his a more vivid color than either Adam or Joshua, his oldest brother.

Most days, he rode to school with his brothers, sitting in the middle of the bench seat of Joshua’s old truck, as they rode into town. Joshua would drop him and Adam at the middle school, then drive on to the high school around the corner. But on days the weather was pleasant, he would head out early, riding his bicycle the three quarters of a mile into town.

It was late spring, the final school bell rang to end the day, when Elijah was riding his bicycle home. He cut over to fourth street and turned to head west, and home. He had gone two blocks when Randal Simmons pulled out on his bicycle, making him swerve. He hit the curb wrong and flipped over the handlebars, landing in the grass strip between it and the sidewalk. Randal laughed at him, called him a faggot and a dick sucker, and asked if his ass hurt like it did when he let one of his brothers fuck him. Randal’s crudeness, the cruel meanness of what he was saying brought tears to Elijah’s eyes as he picked up his bicycle. He began to push it down the sidewalk, his back and stomach hurting too much for him to climb back on it. He saw Randal was halfway down the block, turning to come back to torment him some more. He looked at the approaching bully, the way knees pumped up and down, picking up speed. He looked at the shiny new bicycle and suddenly hated it and the bully on it. He wished the bicycle would melt out from under Randal, like ice in the hot sun. He imagined it, surprised by the analogy he was creating, but it seemed right. The appropriate thing to think. The mantra to repeat in his mind.

Randal began to lose control and the tires began to melt, flinging melted rubber from the wheels. Tires suddenly flat, he fell, the bicycle pitching over on the sidewalk. The seat flared up in flames as the frame collapsed like melting plastic. Randal lay on the ground, mouth hanging open as he watched his bicycle turn to a puddle of molten metal. Then he jumped up, tears now in his eyes and terrified more than ever before, and ran.

Elijah sat on the sofa in his mother’s living room, the one place he and his brothers were not allowed to play. Terrified, still hurting, he cried as he tried to explain how he didn’t know why Randal’s bicycle melted. He looked up and saw the police chief and two other policemen looking at him like he scared them. In the corner, a sheriff stood whispering to his father. Sitting close, his mother kept an arm around him, protective of her youngest. Another man came in, carrying a black satchel, and Elijah realized it was Dr. Johnson, the doctor his mother made him go for shots or when he was sick.

The police stepped back and let Dr. Johnson look at Elijah, checking eyes, throat, then taking his temperature. He listened to Elijah’s heart, then his lungs. When he stood up, he turned to the police chief.

“He’s perfectly healthy, as far as I can tell. Why was I called to look at Elijah?”

“Well…” the police chief stammered.

“He’s possessed!” one of the policemen exclaimed, pointing at Elijah.

“Now, let’s not get excited. Why do you accuse this child of such?” Dr. Johnson asked, moving up to the policeman. He knew the boy as he considered him, one of Buster’s boys, the middle boy, and he knew the teachings the boy had gotten at home by his mother.

“He…he melted the Simmons’ boy’s bike. Like it was butter.”

“What? How? He have access to a blow torch or something?”

“That’s just it. He didn’t have anything. He just looked at the Simmons’ boy with hate and melted his bicycle with his eyes.”

“That’s insane.”

A cellphone was held up and Dr. Johnson saw the image captured by the device, melted metal cooling on the sidewalk, turning black. Its outline was unmistakable: a bicycle.

“I see, why are you accusing this child…”

“He was the only one there. The Simmons’ boy said it was just Elijah and him.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them,” Elijah’s mother exclaimed as she hugged Elijah close.

“Now, let’s calm down. There has to be an explanation for it,” the police chief cut in, moving between the doctor and his man.

“I think we should take the night to settle down and look at this again in the morning. In the meantime, I’ll make a few phone calls,” said Dr. Johnson

The police chief knew the doctor had old contacts that might explain everything. Contacts from his military days when he worked in some research group that, to this day, he refused to discuss.

Dr. Johnson sat in his study, only the desk lamp on. It was late, after two in the morning and the house was quiet. Mary had gone to bed long ago, as he poured over books or just sat at his desk, baffled as to what to do. He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a small black notebook. He thumbed through the pages wondering if the numbers were still good.

He dialed the one that gave him the best chance of getting answers to questions he didn’t know how to ask. The phone rang three times then a gravelly voice answered. It was different, older, slower in its speech, but after twenty years, he still recognized it.

“Chester, this is Brad Johnson. I’m sorry to be calling so late, and I know it’s been a long time, but...”

“Brad?! I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“I guess so, since I told everyone I didn’t want to hear from them again.”

“And that included me, if I recall,” chuckling softly.

“It was a crazy time and…I just wasn’t cut out for what you guys were doing.”

“So, why the call now?”

“Chester, I don’t know who to call, but I’ve got a situation here that I’m not sure I believe.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s this boy…he…”

“Is he just hitting puberty?”

“Yes.”

“Did he do something rather special?”

“Yes, I think so. He melted a boy’s bicycle.”

“Without the aid of equipment?”

“You know something. Goddamn it. What do you know?”

“Brad, all I can say is we’ve seen it before. Some boy, just hitting puberty and developing some power, some ability that defies reason.”

“How many?”

“Brad, I have to ask before we go further. This is more sensitive than Operation Frontier. You have to promise what I’m going to tell you stays with you.”

“That bad?”

“Not necessarily bad. We’re just trying to keep the boys safe and not let it become known. The public would…”

“Freak out. I know that all too well. I’ve got a policeman ready to perform an exorcism.”

“There are two other boys. Their abilities are different, and we know nothing about how it manifested or what triggered it.”

“It’s not some experiment…”

“No, no, nothing like that. You see that for yourself. Do you know the boy there? Was he ever experimented on?”

“No, of course not. So, what do I do?”

“Let me make a phone call, to the man in charge of overseeing the other boys. I’ll call you back as soon as I find out something.”

Dr. Johnson sat at his desk staring at the walls of his office. The diplomas, the degrees in medicine and all the other plaques of his twenty-year career. What was missing was anything from his military days. Things he didn’t want daily reminders, but now he was glad of the contact from those days. Of the Christensen boys, Elijah was the nicest boy, so quiet and shy, he hated what was happening to him. He glanced at his watch and saw only eight minutes had passed, then his phone rang.

“That was fast,” Dr. Johnson answered.

“I told you this is serious. They will be there by daybreak.”

“Here? They will be here in about three hours…Chadron, Nebraska?”

“Yes. Robert Grimes is the leader and they are bringing one of the boys with them. Someone your boy can hopefully relate to as they talk with him.”

“I assume our little airport is about to get something they’ve not seen before.”

“Probably. And Brad, get that boy and his family somewhere safe. I gave Robert your number to call when they are on the ground.”

“Something I should be aware?”

“With the other boys, someone tried to snatch them. Remember that incident in Vancouver a few years ago?”

“Yeah, with that guy who looked like he was flying, and they came out saying it was a hoax…it wasn’t a hoax was it?”

“Nope. Call me if there are any problems. Otherwise, Robert and his team will be there soon. Just make sure to get that boy somewhere safe. And one other thing. I’m going to give you a secure email address; send me the boy’s file.”

“I’ve got it here. Will send it shortly then I’ll head out to the Christensen’s.”

“Brad, hang in there and keep alert,” said Chester, then the call ended.

The jet was over Nebraska, coming in fast. The darkness of night was fading away as the world spun on its axis, turning the mid-west toward the sun. Liam and William were napping, the fatigue of no sleep caught up with them. Robert was on the phone making arrangements for the boy, should they need to evacuate him from his home. As soon as he hung up the pilot radioed back.

“Sir.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“We’ll be landing in fifteen. Everyone should be seated and buckled up. The runway in Chadron is a bit shorter than we would like.”

“It’s not too short is it?”

“No sir, we can land. We just can’t waste any of the runway over flying it.”

“I’ll get everyone buckled up,” Robert replied. He stood up and moved down the cabin waking up Liam and William and getting Jonathan’s attention, who had been on his computer going over files about the boy. “Okay guys, we need to be seated and buckled up. The runway is a bit short.”

Author Jackson had been working at the airport for ten years, having moved from Wyoming to take the management position. For ten years, he never had an incident, nothing that made him crawl out of bed in the middle of the night, until now. He had gotten a call at three o’clock in the morning, asking if the runway had lights and the ability to land a jet that required 6,000 feet. He had been flabbergasted at the inquiry, for he couldn’t imagine why anyone would need to land such a craft at Chadron. He let them know they had lights and could handle the craft but there was little runway to spare.

Then he found himself making a quick breakfast then heading out to the airport a little over two miles outside of town. It was a calm, dark early morning when he stood on the concrete tarmac looking toward the runway. It was mostly dark, only a few lights illuminated the strip, and the lead up to it. He looked up into the dark sky, wondering where this mystery jet was coming from and why the secrecy. There was no official report or flight plan and when he inquired, was told to let it drop. He knew there was all kinds of strange shit going on, especially down in Colorado, but in Nebraska? It didn’t make sense.

He had asked if the jet would need refueling and was told no and that all he had to do was accommodate its landing and takeoff, and there was to be no record of it. It smelled of military or intelligence, and it made his ulcers act up.

The eastern horizon grew light, then slowly morning arrived to begin a new day. His cell phone rang. It was one of his guys letting him know the jet was early, coming in soon. Then he heard it, coming in from the northeast. It slowly grew from a dot in the sky till wings were visible, then its landing gear. It was larger than Author expected, a large Gulfstream jet, a series he had seen in Denver. It came down, lower and lower, and he watched as its wheels touched down near the beginning of the runway, almost perfect, and brought the front wheels down quickly and began to brake hard. At a speed faster than he liked to see, it angled off the end of the runway and taxied toward him.

He turned to see two police cars race onto the tarmac and stop nearby. The jet turned toward them and taxied up close before stopping. The engines had not stopped when the door swung down, and the ladder unfolded. Immediately, a man, then two teenage boys raced down the ladder, across the tarmac to the car. The policemen gave up the two cars, letting the men take them.

“What in the hell?” Author uttered, wondering who these people were. Two were just boys and the other one didn’t look military or intelligence. He pulled out his phone and called the FAA again, intent on demanding answers.

Richard stood in the doorway between living and dining, while Dr. Johnson explained why the men were there, wanting to just talk to the boy. Mary Johnson came into the dining room setting biscuits out with butter, jam and honey. A platter of ham and hash browns were already on the table. In the living room with Elijah and Dr. Johnson were the boy’s father, Jonathan, Liam, the police chief and one of his men. Liam kept looking from the boy to the window over his shoulder, to the front yard where William paced back and forth.

They could hear the boy’s mother coming down the stair with the two brothers, telling them to calm down and they would eat when the time was right. Mary came up beside Robert, looking toward her husband.

“I think everyone should eat something. They’ll feel better, don’t you think?” Mary asked her husband.

“You’re right, Mary. Let’s eat something and then talk, shall we?” said Dr. Johnson as he stood, getting Elijah to stand too.

The table sat ten, but was still too small, but the police chief stepped aside, informing them he and his man ate on the way. Mary told everyone to sit, she had things to do in the kitchen, leaving the remaining to crowd around the table. Dr. Johnson took his customary chair at the head facing toward the window. The mood was uneasy, the boy’s parents still acting strange, but Robert Grimes cleared his throat and began.

“We’re here to get the facts about the boy’s abilities and see what arrangements we might need to do for his protection.”

“His protection? He needs to find his way back into the church and purge this evil,” the boy’s father exclaimed, a fear still evident in his voice.

“This isn’t some evil voodoo shit,” Robert barked, making the father look down. “Yes, it isn’t normal as we think of it, but Elijah isn’t the first, and probably won’t be the last. We just have to take precautions that no harm come to him while he grows up.”

“I agree,” Dr. Johnson interjected, seeing the boy’s parents look unconvinced.

“I don’t agree. Revelations says…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Robert exclaimed cutting off the father. “This isn’t something you can pray away. It is a part of your son, like his hair color or his…” and Robert stopped from saying sexual orientation, knowing that would be a mistake.

“It’s an abomination, I tell you,” the father exclaimed.

“Dad, we don’t want to share a room with him; he could change us too,” Joshua cut in, and everyone could see the two brothers were reacting to their father’s comments, both looking scared.

Robert sat back, feeling exhausted as he looked over at Liam and William, nodding toward the boy.

“Hey, Elijah, why don’t we take our breakfast out to the screen porch in back,” said Liam, standing up and getting his plate and glass of juice. “William, take my plate and I’ll help Elijah.”

As they went out to the kitchen to cut through to the screen porch, they could hear the boy’s father, voice shaking with fear and anger. “He’ll not come home until this is purge out of him. I’ll not have him in…”  Liam closed the door, thankful to be away from the boy’s family, worried how Elijah was taking it. He saw the boy crying while moving toward a bench, looking defeated. Liam stooped in front of him, holding out his plate.

“You need to eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”

Elijah nodded his head as he took the plate. He picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled at it.

“This isn’t fair. I know. Your dad is wrong.”

“But he is the master of our house and what he says…”

“No, don’t think that. Adults can be wrong, just like kids.”

“Were your parents wrong about you?”

“No, but they were scared.”

“Are they scared now?”

“No.”

“Do you change things?”

“You want to see?” Liam asked, smiling at Elijah, causing him to smile back.

“Yes.”

“Oh boy, now for the fireworks,” William exclaimed as he stood to one side.

Liam held out his hands, a few inches apart. He brough up a small ring of charged light around each one, a thin band that had little power. He moved it back and forth along his hand and wrist, then held up his hands on each side of his head, making his hair stand straight out. Elijah was wide eyed, then smiling, when the door swung open.

“That’s enough!” the boy’s father barked. “You…have this evil too!”

“It’s not an evil thing.”

“Don’t talk to me like that boy, I’m your elder.”

“You are not my elder, and…”

“Liam,” Robert cut in, speaking calmly, easing the tension.

“Elijah, you have to pray, and get right with god, then you can come home,” the boy’s father exclaimed. He turned away and went back into the house, leaving Elijah with Robert and the boys, tears streaming down his face.

“Liam get him to eat something, then come inside. Dr. Johnson is going to his home and get his things.”

“Why? They’re not…”

“Liam, we’ll talk when you come in. Just get Elijah to eat something. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Liam replied, and Robert heard the softening tone, and knew Liam would not argue further.

The jet sat ready to taxi to the runway, when the two police cruisers pulled up. Robert and Elijah climbed out of one, and Liam and William out of the other. They carried a duffel bag, a small carryon and two boxes. All the belongings of Elijah. They helped him up the ladder, where he had hesitated. Liam knew he had not flown before and helped Elijah get into the plane, down the aisle to one of the seats. He helped him buckle in as the others secured everything and took a seat.

“We’re going to be taking off soon, and we’ll be back in Washington before it gets dark.”

“Okay,” Elijah replied.

“Look, it’ll feel funny, the way the plane goes down the runway, then lifts off. It’s not smooth, like you’d think. Okay?”

Elijah nodded his head, then looked up front where one of the crew was securing the door.

Liam took the seat closest to Elijah, securing his seatbelt and leaning back. He exhaled, slowly, then sighed. Glancing over, he saw Elijah looking at him. “I didn’t get any sleep last night. What about you?”

“No.”

The plane taxied to the runway, turned to align with it, then raced down the short length, the front wheels lifting off, then the rear wheels. The jet accelerated as it climbed, smoothly, not once bouncing or shaking. It was a perfect takeoff and soon it reached cruising altitude, leveling off.

“I thought you said it’d be bumpy,” Elijah asked, and Liam looked over to see the young boy looking confused.

“They usually are, but I guess the air was perfect this time. You want me to go up and tell the pilot to do it again, and make it bumpy?” Liam jokingly replied.

“NO; that’s okay,” Elijah replied, smiling a little before turning to the window.

Liam looked back at William and Robert, deep in conversation. Robert looked up, making a gesture toward Elijah, motioning for him to talk to the boy.

‘Now?” Liam mouthed back.

Robert nodded his head.

“Elijah, can I ask you something?”

The boy’s head nodded up and down.

“How long have you been able to do it?”

“I don’t know. At first it was just a feeling, then there was…my brother’s model car melted after he hit me, then mom’s paddle…it burned up.”

“Really? I wish I could have done that to mom’s fly swatter. How long ago was this?”

“The week before my birthday.”

“And you just turned 13?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else happening to you? Anything unusual?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Elijah, can I tell you something?”

“Okay.”

“You see William, back there talking to Robert?”

Elijah turned and looked back at William and Robert, “yes.”

“He’s my boyfriend. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes. You like boys instead of girls. Dad says it’s an…”

“No, Elijah, I don’t agree with your dad. Let’s not talk about what your dad says. Let’s just talk about what we think.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think it’s wrong?”

Elijah shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you know the other boy is like me. His ability is different, but he has a boyfriend too.”

Elijah’s eyes grew wide, and he looked away, returning his stare out the window.

“I know you don’t understand all of it, but I think you understand enough to know it happens. That not all boys like girls, but some like other boys.”

Liam saw Elijah’s head nod, then turn to him. “Do you think I like boys?”

It caught Liam up short, the way Elijah asked in such an innocent voice. He took a breath, then leaned closer to him, lowering his voice. “I don’t know what you prefer. I’m not going to assume what you like. That is for you to work out for yourself. I just want you to know no matter which it is, we’re not going to judge you for it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Elijah replied, looking over smiling.

Liam sat back and let Elijah think about what he had said, not pushing for there was a chance the boy didn’t know. He was only thirteen and he may not have matured enough to know. William came up holding out drinks for each of them, then left them alone, both silent, listening the jet’s engines create a white noise in the cabin.

An hour passed, and Elijah, looked around, “Liam?”

“What is it, Elijah?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, but I think about it. I think about boys more than girls. Does that make me like you?”

Liam smiled, “sounds like it. I was like you when I was thirteen. I looked at the boys in my class and knew they didn’t look at me in the same way. It was kind of scary back then.”

“Yes. When did you get a boyfriend?”

“Last winter. It took me five long years to find one good enough,” Liam replied, giggling at the truth of it, leaving out the hits and misses along the way.

“I hope it doesn’t take me five years,” Elijah whispered, and Liam heard the loneliness in the boy’s voice.

“Me too.”

Chester Anderson walked through the new house, surveying each room, stopping at times to admire the view of the coombe with its slopes covered in trees. The house was tucked into the narrow valley, the access road meandering for over a mile through it, crossing the main river, then crossing two streams as it made it way up into the coombe, snaking through trees and around rocks, following the terrain until it made its way around to the house.

It was a contemporary structure, with exposed steel, wood and large glass windows that overlooked the valley. A structure with secrets, having been built outside the jurisdiction of the local officials. Secrets that Chester was good at arranging, making sure there could be no compromises of the house’s security systems and safe rooms, buried in the mountain underneath it.

It’d taken three and a half years to build. Over one in design and doing the arrangements for its construction, then over two to construct. Chester laughed when he considered the costs, staggering numbers he knew most would not have approved, but this was his final contribution to the team. John had helped enormously, in getting contractors, securing the approvals and keeping the locals appeased, and him out of it, so that now he could roam the little town nearby, stroll among the tourist as one of them.

He considered it the culmination of his life’s work. Something as secret as everything else he had done over the years, since returning from that filthy little war in Vietnam, one waged by men he considered cowards, who sent the poor and minorities to fight with impossible objectives. He had worked to make sure that it never happened again, reflecting on the failures of the last few decades, aggravated at how there seemed so many who wanted to send others to fight wars they themselves would not do. Cowards, the whole lot.

He passed through the kitchen into the pantry, opening a secret door, hidden behind shelves and cabinets. A corridor came to light, the first twenty feet concrete, but beyond that cut rock, solid granite, and Chester followed the corridor that went into the mountain until he came into the main chamber. A large space surrounded by rooms, their glass walls overlooking the central area. Golf carts were lined up at a charging station, and he unplugged one, climbed aboard and headed down the wide tunnel that led further into the mountain.

At the tunnel’s end, he plugged the cart in to keep a charge, and followed the narrow corridor till it came into a safe room. He keyed in a passcode and pulled the metal door open, entering a pantry exactly like the one on the other side of the mountain. A house that would be for him and Elizabeth. It was different, a totally different look with exposed steel columns, beams and white metal panels framing large expanses of glass.

 He came out out of the pantry to find his wife at the stove, cooking a light lunch.

“Is it finished to your liking?” she asked, as he glanced over her shoulder.

“Oh, yes, I think so.”

“When are you bringing the boys in?”

“Next week,” Chester replied as he went to the window where the valley opened out before him and down below the small town. This was his retirement home, one that afforded him the ability to provide support until his replacement was fully up to speed. He stood at the window, appearing to look out, but he wasn’t seeing anything below, instead he was thinking of what had led him to this place, in this time.

Three Years Earlier

Preston and Brody were laying in the hammock, both in just their boxers, skin glistening in the shaded light of morning. It was already hot, and there was little breeze coming off the Pacific. They had spent the morning down at Marie’s having breakfast with Wesley and Quinton. It had been odd at first, their arrival a year before. Preston’s grandfather had sent an overnight letter explaining everything, but they hadn’t believed half of it. That is, not until Wesley carried them down the beach two nights after their arrival and showed them, flying up and out over the ocean, his silhouette passing over the full moon on the horizon.

Wesley and Quinton were set up two streets over, on Morelia, their little house backing up to the river. And over the last year, the four of them had explored Mexico, played tourist in Acapulco, Puerto Vallarta or Guadalajara, hiked up in mountains and walked miles of the beaches. And they hung out in their little village, gossiping with their neighbors and the tourists come to surf the waves of the coast.

After a year, it came to seem normal, one more thing they had adjusted to as they lived in Paradise.

Brody reached up over his head, and cupped the back of Preston’s neck, pulling him to lean down. “Kiss me, fucker,” he joked, and Preston leaned further over, bringing their lips together. Hands moved over Brody’s chest, down his flat stomach and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

“You keep touching me and we’re going to have to have sex again.”

“Really? If I don’t stop, you’ll want to fuck?” Preston replied, as he fondled Brody’s cock, making him grow erect.

“Fucker…get me hard,” Brody whispered as he ran his hands along Preston’s side, up and down the bare torso, and over the boxers, manipulating him to full erection. He wanted Preston to be just as hard, just as aroused. He felt Preston push down on his boxers and he raised his hips, letting them slide down until his cock flopped out free, nearly erect.

Brody rolled out of the hammock, grabbed Preston’s legs and spun him around.  The hammock rocked as he pulled Preston toward him until his ass was at the edge of the hammock. Brody rocked Preston back and forth, letting his cock bump against the tight hole, one he would soon stretch open.

He stroked Preston’s cock while his own pushed against the spread open ass and slid up next to the cock in hand. Preston lay back, head hanging off the other side.

“Fuck, Brody, stop teasing me,” Preston exclaimed as he clung to the hammock.

Brody put his cock to Preston’s hole and pushed through the tightness, feeling the squeeze on the head of his cock. He shuddered with the feel of it. The way it seemed to milk his arousal, draw it out, increasing the sensations. He eased into Preston, pushing inch after inch into him until hips pressed against ass. Then he began to fuck. At times he held Preston’s legs firmly against his chest, fucking with every ounce of his strength, and other times, he stood still, rocking the hammock back and forth, watching his cock piston in Preston’s hole.

Brody fucked till his body glistened with sweat and his muscles burned with their exertion. He held Preston’s legs tight to his chest, feeling the heat of their contact, as he fucked for release.

Preston stroked his cock as Brody hammered his hole, both pushing for release. Their moans and grunts echoed in the backyard. Preston came first, unable to hold back with the feel of cock boring into his depths. Cum sprayed his chest and stomach as he shuddered with release.

Brody watched as Preston came, and felt it too. The way Preston’s hole spasm around his cock as he fucked as hard as he could. He was sunk into Preston all the way, jamming hips against ass until his cock exploded, pumping out his load.

Brody was filling the glass again, still thirsty as he heard Preston go into the bathroom to shower off. He smiled at the thought of giving him time to get under the shower, then sneaking in to join him. He drank from the glass, long swallows, desperate to quench his thirst. The glass empty again, he set it in the sink and headed toward the bathroom.

He was halfway through the living area when three quick raps came to the front door. He stopped, looking at it, wondering if it would be appropriate to open it in just boxers, but worried more about keeping Chester Anderson, Preston’s grandfather, waiting. It wouldn’t be the first time Chester had seen either of them in just boxers, parading around the house half naked.  

“Coming,” Brody called out as he went to the door, wondering if the scent of sex was evident. Without thinking of it again, he swung the door open revealing Chester Anderson in a linen shirt and light khaki pants, and a wide brim sun hat he never went without when outdoors. “Mr. Anderson, this is a surprise. Come in.”

“Oh, I think I’ve interrupted something. I can come back…”

“No, no, come in. Preston is in the shower and I was…going…to…”

“Join him?” Chester asked, smiling knowingly.

“Yeah,” Brody replied sheepishly.

“Like I said, I’m interrupting, and I can…”

“No, we already…I mean…” Brody stammered, seeing Chester smile at his discomfort, “I mean we…”

“I see. In that case, go get a shower and let Preston know I’m here. We have much to discuss.”

Once showered and dressed, Preston and Brody walked Chester down to the small restaurant on the beach. The slight breeze was warm, bellowing their shirts which had only a few buttons done. It was nearly noon when they arrived, some surfers and locals already seated. Some greeted Chester as an old friend, smiling at the sight of him, and the memory of all the stories he told. And once again, everyone with a beer in hand, Chester began to tell stories of flying sorties in Vietnam, then the bootleg trading of booze and porn magazines, eliciting howls of laughter at the antics involved.

Marie served them tacos of marinated pork, and refried beans, along with bottles of iced cold beer. Everyone was quiet, busy eating, when Wesley and Quinton strolled up, coming to Chester as soon as they saw him.

“Mr. Anderson, you’re here?” Wesley asked, as if he didn’t believe his own eyes.

“Hey, Mr. Anderson,” said Quinton easing down in a chair at the end of the table. “What is Marie serving today? It smells great.”

“Her pork tacos,” Brody replied.

“How have you boys been?” Chester asked, looking from Wesley to Quinton.

“We’ve been great,” Quinton replied as he took a beer offered to him.

“Yes, we’re good. I thought we’d grow bored of this place, but…” said Wesley, stopping when he didn’t know how to express how he loved this small village on the coast.

“It’s paradise,” Quinton interjected, looking at Brody for confirmation.

“Yep, it sure is,” Brody replied as he eased back his chair so he could cross his legs.

Lunch lasted for more than two hours, or at least the drinking afterward did, as everyone sat around listening to Chester. When some of the local residents finally had to leave and the surfers became aware of a strong wind from the west, creating nice waves, raced for their boards, Chester and the boys found themselves alone, except for Marie who was cleaning up.

“Marie? Necesita ayuda?” asked Preston.

“No. Estar con su abuelo,” Marie replied.

“Si.”

Preston turned back to the table and saw his grandfather smiling at him.

“What?”

“Your Spanish. It’s beginning to have a very local dialect. You didn’t sound like an American when you were talking to Marie.”

“Brody, too,” said Quinton. “I’m still struggling with it, but these two…geez, you’d think it was their first language.”

“Preston, you always were the smartest one, able to learn something new so quickly.”

Preston caught the hint in Chester’s statement, and he looked at him suspiciously.

“Wesley, Quinton, if you’ll excuse us, I need to have a little chat with these two,” said Chester, getting to his feet.

“Okay,” Quinton and Wesley replied in unison.

“But don’t take off. I want to talk to you too. Why don’t you come to the boy’s place around seven? We’ll prepare something for dinner and talk.”

“Sounds good, Mr. Anderson,” Wesley replied, putting a hand on Quinton’s legs to prevent him from speaking too.

Quinton watched Chester lead Preston and Brody to the beach, walking south toward the empty section beyond the surfers. He looked over at Wesley, grinning.

“What is it?” Wesley asked.

“I think the old man is up to something.”

“I’m sure, and we’ll find out tonight.”

“Can’t wait…but in the meantime, what do you say we head back and have some fun? I’m feeling a bit…”

“Bawdy? You’re always feeling bawdy, but yeah, the beer has kicked in and I’m feeling like we should have some personal time.”

Hand in hand, they strolled back to their place, a small stucco house with a porch across the front with the living and dining area opening to it with large wood doors. Inside there was a small kitchen along the side wall, so small the dining table had to be used for prep work, and behind the open room, two bedrooms with a small bath between them. The bedrooms opened to the backyard, a long expanse of grass with trees along one side and across the back where they shaded the bank of the river. Under the porch, between the double doors from each bedroom, on the wall was an outdoor shower, with a door that led into the bathroom. It was in the center of the porch, its floor tile set on concrete, a step down from the wood floor of the remainder of the porch. It looked makeshift, a little rough around the edges but its handcrafted look added to its charm.

Quinton led Wesley to their bedroom, the one on the right, and they removed each other’s clothes, pushing shirts off shoulders, undoing buttons on shorts allowing them to fall around ankles, then boxers following allowing them to kick everything to one side. Then Quinton led Wesley out to the shower under the porch. A cool shower while they messed around had become a favorite way to spend an afternoon.

They kissed, then stepped under the cool spray, where soapy hands roamed over familiar bodies until cocks stood out hard. Wesley moved behind Quinton, bent him over slightly and pushed his cock into him. He eased inward until hips pressed against ass, and he began to fuck, slowly, savoring the feel of every inch being tugged and pushed through Quinton’s tightness.

Wesley pumped cock in Quinton’s hole until he filled it with his load. Then he faced the wall, bracing his arms on the worn smooth stucco as he felt Quinton enter him. Quinton would fuck him for a long time, till bodies ached with exhaustion and legs quivered with fatigue. Then they would lay naked on their bed, covers pushed off, and limbs intertwined, as they napped during the hottest part of the day.

The wind blew off the water and the saltiness of the ocean could be felt in it. Chester found a secluded spot and eased down on the sand, motioning Preston and Brody to sit. For a few minutes they just stared out at the great expanse of blue that was the Pacific. A few birds flew overhead, and down to their right, surfers rode wave after wave toward the shore.

“I hear the other boy is doing well, really controlling his power,” said Chester, breaking the silence.

“Liam, the boy from Alaska?” Brody asked.

“Yes. I spoke with John before coming down and we’re hearing some rumblings inside that there are some who want to use the boy.”

“He’s only fourteen,” Preston exclaimed.

“Fifteen, but point taken.”

“Why are you here? It’s not about Liam, is it?”

“No…and yes. It’s about all of you.”

“All of us?” Brody asked.

“Yes. I’m no expert in this matter, but there are those who expect more of these special children to show up. Wesley wasn’t the first. The first was this girl, and…well, we made mistakes. But with Wesley, I think we’ve done what was best, pulling him away for a while, letting him get some maturity and better control. Does he fly often?”

“Late at night,” said Preston.

“Of course. Can’t have him flying around in broad daylight. Liam is doing well in his school, keeping a low profile.”

“But you’re worried we can’t keep a low profile for the foreseeable future, and being so far away is a problem,” said Brody, tossing a shell into the surf.

“You’re correct. It’ll take some time, but we have a plan to bring you boys back to the states and give you a place to live that is secluded. I think you’ll like what we’re planning.”

“How long?” Preston asked.

“Three years, or so.”

“Three years. Funny, when we came down, I assumed it would be for a few months, a year at most, but…”

“It’s paradise and three years seems such a short time?”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t understand. What do we have to do with Wesley and Liam?” asked Brody.

“Right now, not much, other than be friends who are there for them. It was hard on them, everything that happened. In the future,” said Chester, looking at Preston, “I want you to replace me. Become a fixer. Someone they can rely on.”

“A fixer? What is that?” Brody asked as Preston looked at Chester, shaking his head.

“But grandfather, I have no idea what you do, how you do it…or anything.”

“I know, Preston, but we have three years for me to train you, give you the contacts and resources you’ll need.”

“It seems like a lot to learn, even in three years.”’

“It is, and I know the responsibility is enormous as well, but Preston, I don’t know anyone who has the ability to learn what is required, other than you. My boy; don’t underestimate yourself. I’ve seen what you can do. You got a mischievous streak a mile wide and a stubbornness that I want to lay at your father’s feet, but I know better.”

They sat silent, Chester letting Preston consider the responsibility that was before him. Preston stood and walked down the beach till the surf lapped at his feet. When he turned, Chester saw the determination he had come to expect. A fierce look, one that showed a young man ready to tackle the world.

“How do we start?”

“With a synopsis of the resources you’ll have to work with,” Chester responded.

Preston came back, sitting next to Chester. “Okay. When do we start?”

“Now,” Chester replied, pulling two sheets of paper from his pocket. He unfolded them and held them out to Preston.

“What’s this?” Preston asked.

“An accounting of my assets.”

Preston took the two pages, scanning the first page, eyes growing wide. He flipped to the second page and scanned down to the bottom. “Fuck, you’re kidding me?”

“No, my boy, I am not.”

“If that father of mine had ever seen this…” and Preston laughed. “He looked at the summary again. “Your worth more than…”

“Don’t say it. I try not to think about that.”

“But how do you keep it secret?”

“I don’t need the status of some ranking.”

“So, grandfather, how much of this will be for this little enterprise you’re setting up?”

Chester pointed to a group of items, small compared to all the others, “these assets will go to your two cousins, and this one to your mother and this one to your uncle. Everything else will go to you.”

“But that is…”

“I know, and don’t fret about the others finding out. My will outlines only these assets and this one over here,” pointing to a line item less than the others, “will be your official inheritance. Of course, while I’m still here, I’ll keep a couple of things for myself, but once I get everything set up, all these other assets are yours.”

“But grandfather, I can’t take all of this. It’s too much. It’s…”

“Preston, you don’t understand. You’ll need these resources and the power they will provide you. The most important thing of my…what do I call it? A Career? A job?” Chester chuckled, shaking his head, ‘well, whatever you want to call it, the important thing is to be able to move quickly, get the resources your people need, or get them to safety as fast as possible. You remember how quickly we got you set up down here?”

“Yes. It took you less than a day. I thought you must have had most of it already.”

“No, it just took a few phone calls and a lot of cash.”

“Well, you had…have that. How did you amass such wealth?”

“I had help, someone who did this role before me.”

“Anyone I know?”

“If I said the name, you’d recognize it, but that is a secret I must keep.”

“Why am I here?” asked Brody.

Chester looked around at him, mouth hanging open, shocked at the question.

“Brody, my boy, the most important person to me is Preston’s grandmother. She knows nearly everything and is someone I can talk to when I’m questioning myself. A sounding board, and someone who has helped me from time to time, with arrangements.”

“Grandmother knows what you do? She helped?” Preston asked, surprised.

“Yes. And Brody, you’re Preston’s partner, the one he leans on, right?”

Brody nodded.

“Well, you’ll learn the same as Preston, and will help him when he needs it.”

“I could never learn everything like Preston?”

“Neither has Elizabeth, but I didn’t need her to know everything, but just enough to help me. That will be your role. That is why you’re sitting here now.”

“Where will you be setting us up?” Preston asked, folding the two pages back into a small square and handing it to Chester.

“Oh, that will be a surprise. My little secret,” Chester replied, grinning mischievously, like a little boy with a big secret. “Now if one of you boys will help be up, I think we should get back. We have a dinner to plan.”

It was late by the time they finished dinner and sat around the table in conversation. The table had been moved into the backyard and torches burned around them giving everything a warm glow, setting a tropical mood.  Chester had explained his plans, as far as he was willing to go at this time.

“So, in about three years we’re moving back to the states?” Quinton asked.

“Yes,” Chester replied.

“And we’ll be together, in some arrangement?”

“Yes.”

“Preston, how do you feel about all of this?” asked Wesley.

“Right now, it is a lot to take in, but it seems really important and we can’t stay in paradise forever.”

“What will we be doing exactly?” asked Wesley, turning to Chester.

“That I’m not completely sure; John and Robert will be handling that aspect, but it’ll be something you’ll have to keep hidden from the public.”

“Of course,” Wesley replied, thinking of Vancouver.

Chester stood, ready to retire for the night. “I’ve had enough for one day. But how about we go play tourists tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Quinton blurted out as the others nodded in agreement.

“I know you boys have explored this area, so I’m thinking we go to San Juan Teotihuacan and see the pyramids. What do you say? I’ve not been in years.”

“Sounds good, but how far away is it?” asked Preston.

“Not too far, by helicopter. Let’s get ready to leave about eight. We’ll drive up to Colima to the airport there. That is where I flew in this time.”

“Okay,” Preston replied, and the boys watched Chester stroll to the house and disappear inside.

“Is he really serious?” asked Wesley as soon as Chester was gone, looking across the table at Preston.

“More than you can imagine.”

Once Wesley and Quinton left, Preston led Brody into their bedroom, leaving the doors open allowing the cool breeze to blow through. He was tired, mentally drained by everything Chester had told them. But he was also in need of Brody, the intimacy and security their relationship gave him. He pulled his shirt off, letting it slide off his shoulders and drop to the floor. He moved up behind Brody, tugging off the tank top, then embracing the bare upper body against his own. He kissed the back of the neck, then ran his nose up through the hair. He kissed along one shoulder while undoing the button of Brody’s cargo shorts. Unhurriedly, he stripped him, then removed his own clothes as Brody moved up on the bed, lying on his stomach.

Preston moved over Brody, letting the full weight of his body rest on him. He felt Brody undulate beneath him, seductively, with slow primitive moves. The push upward with the ass, increasing the pressure on his growing erection until he was rock hard. The squirming of the upper body, causing a soft friction of their skin. Then there were the hands that reached back and clung to his waist. There was a desperation in how Brody always responded to him. A need he sometimes wondered if he could fill, but knew, without a doubt, he was the one. Brody had said so often, as he did now.

“Preston, I want you…put it in me,” Brody whispered, breathlessly.

Preston rose, and pushed his cock down till it aligned with Brody’s opening and he eased into it, slowly, feeling the tightness stretch to accommodate him. He pushed the head through, then an inch of shaft and waited. Brody shuddered with the penetration, then fell calm, and Preston felt the tightness loosen. He pushed inward, slowly, gently, till his hips pressed against ass, and he lay on Brody, savoring the feel of his cock buried within him.

“Preston…fuck me,” Brody whispered, voice trembling with need.

Preston began to fuck, a slow steady pace, letting them feel every inch tug outward then push inward through the tight ring of Brody’s opening. He moved with the slow pace for a long time, enduring the torment of wanting to fuck faster, for it felt good, the way he could feel every inch of his cock, and knew it was the same for Brody.

Brody’s moans spurned Preston to fuck faster. The need too great to keep up such a slow pace, and soon the bed squeaked softly beneath them as he pumped cock inside Brody, faster and faster. They fucked till sweat covered their bodies and Preston couldn’t hold back.

“I’m going to come,” Preston uttered, then shook and jerked with release, as he filled Brody with his load.

Preston got on his knees and guided Brody to roll over. He saw the hard, leaking cock, the head shiny in the dim light of the room, and he moved down between spread legs and took it in his mouth. He knew Brody wouldn’t last long, never could after being fucked. He moved his head up and down on Brody, lips tight around the hard shaft. Brody clutched at the bed, and quickly began to pump upward with his hips. Preston held still and took every thrust until Brody was stifling his desire to cry out and shuddering with release. Cum filled Preston’s mouth, which he swallowed as fast as he could, Brody continuing to ejaculate.

Exhausted and spent, they collapsed next to each other, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Preston lay next to Brody, wondering about their future.

“Brody, will it be okay? The move back?” Preston whispered but received no answer. He leaned up and saw Brody was asleep, face relaxed in such an innocence, he smiled, feeling he had his answer.

The five of them were in Chester’s rental, a large Toyota SUV riding north. They had been on the road for a little over an hour, when signs of the small city began to appear. Skirting to the south, they headed east to the airport, that was a few miles outside the city.

At the airport, Chester drove around the main buildings and to a hanger. To their left sat planes and one helicopter. A Sikorsky S-76-C, shiny in its dark bronze color, sat with doors open, and pilots doing a final check. Within a few minutes they were loaded up, and rotors turning, getting faster and faster, until the craft lifted off the ground, spun around and headed east.

They flew over open terrain, then over small towns and cities until they were circling the north side of Mexico City, it spread out, far and wide. They landed near their destination, packed up the SUV waiting for them and headed to the pyramids, visiting each one along the long axis, going from Temple of the Feathered Serpent up to the Palacio de Quetzalpapalotl and the Pyramid of the Moon.

Present Day

Liam and William were sitting with Elijah on the deck, as Robert and John sat in the large living room watching them through the French doors. They had landed a couple of hours prior and came straight to Robert’s house. He had refused to go to Raven Rock or to NSA, telling John it would be too much for the boy. Elijah had been through enough and having him secreted away in some office or conference room would scare him even more. To Robert, the best thing, despite the security issues, was to take Elijah to his home outside Arlington.

“Do you think this plan will work?” asked Robert, tilting his glass, watching the whiskey move around the ice cube.

“I think so. Chester has done a lot of preparation and if anyone can cover all the bases, it is him.”

“Tell me about it, but the boy, will he be okay.”

“Don’t underestimate a child’s resilience, especially if he has those that do care for him,” John replied, seeing Elijah laugh at something said by William.

“But his parents…those assholes and that cult…”

“Robert, we have to let it go, for the boy’s sake. I think the boy understands the situation more than you realize. Yes, I’m sure he is hurt and will always suffer for it, but maybe one day he can reclaim some of what is going to be lost.”

“You’re right. Chester said the boy would get private tutors.”

“Yes. He’ll have them come to his new house, so the boy will be safe from the kind of bullying he had endured at his old school.”

“Yeah, we don’t need anymore bullies having their bicycles melted out from underneath them,” Robert replied, grinning at John, imagining how that must have looked.

Laughing too, “the boy can probably defend himself, but…”

“I know; no public displays.”

“It would be worse than Vancouver.”

“Please stop reminding me of that.”

“Okay, I’m leaving and will let you get the boy settled in for the night. Is Liam and William staying as well?”

“They insisted on it.”

“Good. The boy seems really attached to them. Chester will be here tomorrow with the other boys,” said John getting to his feet. Robert stood too and walked John to the front door and out onto the porch.

“Jonathan will be here in the morning. I let him know to be here around eight.”

“Good. His situation had been such a mess, but he was the best at analysis they had and…he’ll be an asset to the team.”

“This grandson, Preston, you think he can handle it? Chester is really good and…”

“Robert, I went down last month to talk with him, feel him out on what he has learned. He is as tight lipped in not giving up information as Chester, but when I told him I needed to be in Tokyo in two days with a place to live and a quiet way of entering the country, he came back in two hours with everything taken care of.”

“Two hours? He found a place in Tokyo in two hours?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what kind of contacts Chester has, but he had passed them on to Preston and, quite frankly, the boy may be more organized than Chester. Chester seems to think so.”

“The agency was foolish to let Chester retire.”

“Robert, you don’t understand. Chester was never a part of any of the agencies. Not since his leaving in 1976 has he been under contract with anyone.”

“How does he do it?”

“I tried to check him out years ago and got so much conflicting information I couldn’t sort it out. But I can tell you this, all those billionaires that like to strut about bragging who is wealthier than who, have nothing on Chester Anderson.”

“I knew he had to be wealthy, but you’re saying…”

“I’m not saying anything, but you’ll see what he is capable of in two days.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I’ve got to get going, but Robert, thanks for putting everyone up tomorrow. I think a less formal atmosphere will be good for bringing everyone together.”

“Don’t mention it. Helen is thrilled to have everyone, to finally get to put faces with names. And she has always wanted to meet Wesley again, after what happened down in Alabama.”

“I bet. I’ll see you tomorrow,” said John as he stepped off the porch and headed to his Suburban, the large black SUV parked in front.

Jonathan was exhausted after the mission to Nebraska, watching for chatter they did not want, but he was too wound up to sleep. A quick glance at his watch showed it was going on eleven. “Fuck it,” he uttered, slipping his shoes on, grabbing up keys, wallet, and cellphone, then heading out the door. It was a Wednesday night and he told himself he would get one quick drink at the small bar up the street, then call it a night.

The bar was busy, but not packed, and Jonathan found himself at one of the bar-height tables just out from the main bar. It was the last table, letting his sit with his back against the wall as he watched the other patrons. It was a straight bar, one that truly catered to the neighborhood. Half the patrons probably walked, and in the room, he saw the kind of crowd one would expect. Guys surrounding one table, giving smiles and nods of the head to a group of women surrounding a table, two over. There were business suits, t-shirts and jeans, and all manner of dress in between. The door swung open and three guys came in, military, down to the dog tags and haircut. Two were average in height and build, but one was muscular, tall, with reddish-blonde hair and a five o’clock shadow that was dark red.

Jonathan knew it was a waste of time, but he couldn’t help but watch the guys as they went to the bar, grab a beer, then move to a table along the far wall. He watched the two guys push the tall one to go flirt with the three women at a table in the middle of the room. The guy shook his head no, made some comment, but when pushed to stand up, he reluctantly moved across the room. Jonathan watched how the women waited, smiling and patting each other on the arm, excited by his approach. He spoke to them, they laughed, and with a quick glance over to his buddies, the guy had them all hooked up. It was so simple. And at one time, it had been for Jonathan, but now he wasn’t so sure. It still hurt about the betrayal with Andrei, and he had made no effort to meet someone new.

But he was restless like he hadn’t been in a long time, and ignoring the time, he finished his beer, then headed to the men’s room. He would piss, pay his tab, and hit the road. The Depot wasn’t too far away, and if nothing else he would be surrounded by other gay guys. He could have another drink while observing the gay male specimen, creating little fantasies of how they could meet, and fly off to some exotic locale on the other side of the world.

He went to the urinal, then moved to the sink to wash his hands. He saw movement in the mirror. It was the tall guy, and up close, in the bright light of the toilet, he could see how snug the t-shirt fit over his upper body. ‘Damn,’ he thought trying not to stare, but he couldn’t stop and suddenly realized the guy was looking back. He dried his hands and rushed out, afraid the guy might say something, some comment about the stare, asking if he had a problem.

The Depot was a dive, the back half of what was once a large restaurant. The front half, facing the street was still one, but the back half had been made into a bar back in the 1980’s and after a couple of changes in ownership, became the Depot in 2006. Jonathan knew the appeal for some was the secluded entry, down the narrow alley that split the block. The door had a small metal canopy, metal steps up to a landing and one bare bulb for a light. But the atmosphere was friendly, the drinks were not watered down, and the beer was ice cold. Jonathan moved through the narrow room up to the bar and ordered a drink.

He recognized a few faces, but there was no one he knew by name, so he made his way to the small lounge room off to the side. There was a built-in bench along two walls and three armchairs in the room, which was painted bright red. Sitting at the end of the bench, in one corner, he sat back and watched the guys in the room. The joking around, the flirting and hooking up. He wondered why he made it so hard on himself, as he ignored one guy looking his way. The guy was attractive, but he just didn’t feel it.

Drink half finished, he stretched out, legs crossed at the ankles, and relaxed against the wall. He pulled out his cellphone and flipped through a couple of text messages, one from Robert, then opened up the internet to look at his favorite news source, one out of Britain. A shadow came over him and he looked up to see the tall guy from the other bar, standing in front of him.

“Hey, I saw you earlier. I’m Reece,” and a hand was held out toward Jonathan.

“Jonathan. I’m surprised to see you here,” he replied, unable to stop himself from asking.

“I guess you saw the flirting with the girls? My buddies are pussies when it comes to talking to girls, so they get me to do it. Then I have to figure out a way to bow out.”

“So, I guess you got them all hooked up?”

“I think so,” Reece smiled. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, are you looking for company?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. My last boyfriend turned out to be a nightmare in every sense of the word, so I’m kind of just testing the waters.”

“Well, mind if I sit and tread water with you?”

“No, not at all. Sit.”

At first there was the usual bar banter, going back and forth, then they got more personal, talking about their families, and where they grew up. They moved up through their childhoods, their college years, and their tours in the military. Then the conversation slowed, no more casual reveals. They stammered around what they were currently doing, neither revealing anything. Then Jonathan slipped, mentioned a co-worker, Malcolm Kowalski, and Reece perked up.

“I know Malcolm.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, we had a couple of…cases together.”

Jonathan laughed, loudly, shaking his head. “Goddamn it, your what? Navy Intelligence? No, let me guess…NSA…or DIA?”

“The middle one,” Reece replied sheepishly. “Damn, I hate how that sounds. It freaks people out, like they expect me to spy on them or something. But you…you’re not freaked out. So, how’s Malcolm and everyone over at the CIA?’

“I have no idea. I quit a couple of months ago.”

“Seriously? Damn, I thought that was a career for life. What are you doing now?” Reece asked, and he saw the grin, the way Jonathan eyes looked away, then back at him, hiding something.

“I can’t really say.”

“Holy fuck; you’re in one of those spook groups that nobody will talk about. Blackbird? GIAR?”

“GIAR? But no, none of those.”

“They say there is a new group forming, one with special gear and resources out the ass.”

“Really? What do you know about it?”

“Not much. There’s this cat at NSA, some high up that evidently answers to no one. John, something or other. And he has pulled some old guys out of retirement. You heard of it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jonathan replied, putting on his poker face.

“Let me ask you; have you ever heard of a Mr. Anderson?”

Jonathan swallowed wrong and choked. He coughed till tears trickled down his cheeks before getting it under control.

“You son of a bitch. You know him.”

“No…I didn’t…”

“Save it for someone who doesn’t know any better. Goddamn, we have been monitoring these weird stories over the last few years. Just a couple of them, but…damn they are crazy. Some real spook shit. If I ask you if something was real, will you tell me?”

“No,” Jonathan replied, smiling, seeing Reece was expecting his answer. “But what are you hearing?”

“Okay, since I think you know already,” Reece replied, his voice lowered to a whisper. “Remember that Vancouver episode where it looked like a guy was flying?”

“Yes,” knowing that had been too public to deny.

“Remember how they came out saying it was a prank, just a hoax?”

“Yes.”

“Word through back channels is it wasn’t a hoax, and everyone has been trying to figure out what kind of gear the guy was wearing. I mean, he looked like he had no special gear, but everyone thinks there had to be something. And the thing is, this Mr. Anderson cropped up, and poof. Gone. Nothing. Every image on the internet was deleted in less than twenty-four hours without a trace. No ghost images, no 1’s and 0’s floating out there trying to reveal the image. Nothing. Who has that kind of power? And now, I meet you and…shit.“

“Reece, I really need to get going. Thanks for treading water with me.”

“Wait. Forget the spook shit. You want to go out? Like a normal date with food, maybe a movie or something?”

Jonathan looked at Reece, with his chiseled features. So many curves and lines that made up an attractive face, and when Reece turned a little to the right, the light hitting him in the face, Jonathan saw the green eyes and nodded his head. “Sure. I’d like that.” He pulled out his cellphone and opened up a new contact page, “What’s your number…and I just realized I don’t know your last name either.”

“Here’s my card with my cellphone number,” Reece replied, holding out the white card.

“Reese Nolan Ferguson.”

“And your last name?”

“Coleman.”

“Well, Jonathan Coleman, would you be willing to spend a night with Reese Ferguson this Friday? I can pick you up around seven for dinner.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

The Gulfstream came in smoothly, tires gently touching down, then the jet braked, slowing it down the runway at Andrews Air Force Base. It taxied to one of the hanger buildings facing the runways and stopped close to a waiting Suburban.

John climbed out, and watched as the door lowered, unfolding the steps. The first to step out was Quinton, caring a backpack in one hand. Then came Wesley, who waved before descending the steps. Chester came to the door, looked back, speaking to someone inside, then he turned to John, waved, and descended the steps. Brody came to the door, backpack on and an old leather satchel John recognized as Chester’s, wondering if it now belonged to Preston. Two crew came out next, carrying duffel bags in each hand. Finally, after what seemed a long time, Preston came to the door and stood looking out over the airport. He had the expression of someone in an alien land and John realized it had been over five years since Brody and he fled to Mexico. Five years, John knew would seem an eternity to two young men who were twenty-three and twenty-four. So young, he wondered if they were up to the task Chester had laid upon them. Then he watched Preston’s expression change, a stoic look that hid whatever was going on in his mind, as he descended the steps with authority, and headed toward him.

“Chester…guys…welcome back to the states. I trust the flight was good.”

“Yes, it was uneventful,” Chester replied, coming up to John to shake his hand.

“The best kind,” John replied.

“Let’s get to Robert’s. The boys are ready to stop all this traveling,” said Chester as he headed to the passenger door. “Come on boys, load up.”

They pulled up to Robert’s house about an hour later, where Helen greeted them at the door, introducing herself to each, as they entered. She stopped Wesley when he came in, looking him up and down. “I remember you. It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has, Mrs. Grimes,” Wesley replied.

In the living room they found the others waiting and greeted each other, moving around the room. It was Brody who approached Elijah first, holding out a hand, “hi, I’m Brody. You must be Elijah.”

“Yes,” Elijah replied, nervous about meeting those he had only heard about.

Jonathan watched from the side of the room, still finding it hard to believe what was right before him. It had been hard enough to understand Wesley, then Liam, but now there was another boy, so young, it defied logic. And he was still having trouble with how Elijah’s parents let him be taken, their minds distorted with primitive notions of evil.

Robert moved up next to Chester, lowering his voice, “are you sure the boy will be okay living with the guys?”

“Look at him. He takes to them faster than to any of us. He trusts them. So, yes, I’m sure, and remember, we’ll be close by.”

Robert stepped over to Jonathan. “How are you holding up?”

“Good, but it is a lot to take in.”

“Tell me about it. Chester get you set up?”

“A small, non-descript office on the twenty-first floor of an old building I assumed would be a sieve for listening devices. But guess what?”

“It’s one of Chester’s and it is sealed tight? I know the building. We had offices in it, years ago.”

I don’t know how he did it, but I’ve got a bank of computers more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, get ready to use them. There are rumblings that certain agencies are about ready to bring us in from time to time.”

“If they know what abilities you’re sitting on, I’m sure.”

“Are you coming up to the mountain house tomorrow?”

“No, I’ve got an engagement tomorrow night.”

“A date?” Robert asked, grinning. “Good for you. It’s time you put everything behind you.”

“Thanks. “I’ll come up on Sunday and check out the arrangement. From what Chester has let slip, it sounds incredible.”

“I’ll find out tomorrow.”

Robert then moved to Preston, the one everything would rest on, and the one he knew the least, having only heard about him through the others.

“I’m Robert,” holding out his hand.

“Yes, I know. It is good to finally meet you.”

“Are you ready for this?”

“I think so,” Preston replied, smiling. It was a smile like Chester’s, hiding more than it was revealing, and Robert shook his head, smiling back.

“Okay, guys, let’s get everyone in a room so you can clean up and rest up a bit, then we’ll have dinner. We’re going to grill out and hopefully get to know one another better. I feel like I’m a out of the loop a bit, and I’m sure a couple of you might be feeling the same. John, Chester, anything to add?”

“No, I think we’re all ready to just get settled down,” Chester replied.

“I’m going to head out for a while, but will be back in time for the cookout,” said John, excusing himself as he made his way back to the front of the house and out.

That evening, the city lit up in the darkness of night, everyone was gathered in the backyard around two tables set up near the outdoor kitchen. Their plates were pushed back, and glasses refilled, as the conversation circled around the tables about the move back. There was speculation about what Chester had in store for them and what their futures might hold. Preston sat between Brody and Wesley, watching the others, especially Liam, the one he needed to know more about. He saw how easily Liam smiled and was constantly paying attention to Elijah, sitting by his side. There was a bond between them he knew would be important in the months that followed. Then there was William, Liam’s boyfriend, and he saw the irony in each of them having their boyfriends a part of this, whatever it was. He knew Elijah had admitted to liking boys, but he wondered if it were just an emulating of the others. He looked so young, and Preston tried to remember what it had been like for him at that age. He knew he had begun to look at the other boys differently about the same age, so maybe Elijah wasn’t as young as he imagined.

Glancing to his left, Preston saw Robert looking at him, as he had been all night. He knew there was a curiosity about him, the one at the table Robert would come to rely on the most, but currently, probably knew the least. He understood it and hoped over the next few months to ease those anxieties. He leaned close to Brody, “I’m beat; let’s turn in.”

“Okay,” Brody whispered back.

Preston pushed back and stood, “if everyone will excuse us, we’re turning in. I’m exhausted after the long flight and ready for bed.”

“We’ll see everyone in the morning,” Brody added as he followed Preston from the room.

A few minutes later, Wesley and Quinton followed suit, excusing themselves, then Liam and William, getting Elijah to go with them as they retired for the night.

Jonathan said his goodbyes and let himself out. He didn’t want any distractions for the date with Reese the next night, no matter how curious he was about the set up in the mountains. He planned to go up on Sunday.

“It has been a long day, so I’m retiring too,” said Chester and soon Robert found himself alone with Helen.

“They seem so young,” said Helen as she handed Robert a whiskey on the rocks.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“And they’re all…”

“Gay? Yep.”

“What about that boy?” Helen asked and Robert knew she meant Elijah.

“It seems so. He admitted to liking boys more than girls.”

“That would mean he is too,” Helen replied, laughing at the absurdity of it, all of the boys in Robert’s group being gay. “Here’s to your little adventure,” holding out her glass.

Robert laughed, “what have I gotten myself into?”

It took over two hours to drive to Chester’s house, the narrow roads twisting and turning through valleys and over mountains. They came to the small town nestled in a valley, driving along its main street for a couple of blocks, and John turned right, heading up the mountain to their west. They climbed along the side of it, going higher and higher until they came to a gated drive. The narrow gravel drive snaked under the trees and around large boulders eventually coming into a small parking courtyard tucked between the house and the side of the mountain. The house appeared to be only one story but when John swung the Suburban around and pulled up to the front entry, it was obvious there were two floors below the one first visible.

The modern house with its steel frame and metal panels, and large glass areas, was a white artifact jutting from the side of the mountain. Chester led everyone inside, gave them a tour, and showed Elijah the bedroom that would be his. The room was intimate in size, with models hanging from the ceiling and a large flat screen on one wall, with gaming console sitting beneath it.

Then Chester led them into the safe room and down the corridor, deep into the mountain, until they came to the large room with golf carts staged along charging stations.

“From here, it is quicker to take the carts to the other side.”

“Our place is on the other side of the mountain?” asked Wesley.

“Yes. That way, to the public, you are not associated with me, and your place is far from the road and posted as private property. You’ll just be some eccentrics who don’t want to be bothered.”

 “And you’ll be some retiree living the easy life above that town?”

“That is right.”

They came into the other house, a style completely different. It was natural woods and stone with large windows. The house didn’t jut out like Chester’s, but was nestled into the side of the mountain, angling and bending to stay snug to it. It was two floors, the upper bedroom suites for five groups, all the same in layout and size, even the suite for Preston and Brody. On the main level, a main living, dining and kitchen anchored the center the house. To one side was a library, an office for Preston and a computer room affording them the access they would need to various sites. On the other side, a billiards room, a gaming room and another small living room, isolated from the rest of the house. On the very end a long screen room with a fireplace, dining table and sitting area, with an outdoor kitchen to one side.

“You’re expecting more of us?” Wesley asked when he remembered how many suites he had seen.

“Yes, and if we need to, we can add another residence close by, just around that rock outcropping,” Chester replied.

“And one of the bedrooms is mine?” Elijah asked, his first question since arriving.

“Yes, one is yours. I assume you’ll like the one next to Liam?” asked Chester.

“Yes, sir,” Elijah replied, nodding his head, smiling at being able to stay close to Liam.

The guys chose rooms and began to get settled in, Liam helping Elijah first. Robert, John and Chester went out on the deck that ran the length of the living room, overlooking the narrow valley below.

“Damn, Chester, how much did this set you back?” Robert asked as soon as the door closed.

Chester smiled and just shrugged his shoulders.

“You, sly old fox,” said Robert, shaking his head. “I have to admit, the layout is good. The way you use the mountain to isolate them. And if this ever goes sideways…”

“We can handle it,” Chester replied.

“We’re analyzing ways in which to activate the team, but so far, there is more concern about controlling the guys than about what they can do,” said John.

“They are more worried about those boys than what’s out there?” Robert exclaimed, then looking at Chester shaking his head, “no wonder you stayed outside of it all.”

“You know how it is; if they don’t feel like they have full control, then it scares them.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“That it is,” said Chester, “but maybe it is for the best, no one is ready to bring the boys on board. It’ll give them more time to get acclimated to each other and to what they could face.”

“You’re right,” said Robert. “Should we leave and let them get settled?”

“Yes, it is best to let them get set up, and work out their own arrangements.”

“And the boy?” asked John.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, but really, knowing the abilities of the boys, do you really think he would be safer with anyone else?”

Robert burst into laughter, causing John, then Chester to do the same. With tears in his eyes from laughing, Robert turned to John, “hell, if I get into trouble, I’m coming here.”

“You got a tutor lined up, someone to come in and teach him?” John asked.

“Everything is arranged. I was worried about a lack of socializing with his own age group, but Elizabeth has stepped in, registering him with some activities with the children in the town below.”

“I’m concerned a bit about the influences of the other boys on him,” said Robert.

“I think the positive will outweigh any bad,” Chester replied, with his usual casual tone, never seemed to be worried.

Jonathan waited impatiently, pacing the living room, then circling around the dining table. He had put on four different shirts, dress slacks, khakis, before settling on jeans and a white dress shirt. Right at seven, the doorbell rang.

“Hey,” Jonathan greeted Reese as he stepped aside to let him enter.

As Reese passed, Jonathan sized him up again. Six foot three, easy, maybe even six four. And the green shirt brought out the green eyes and looking down, he couldn’t help but admire how the tight jeans highlighted Reese’s round ass. He pushed the door closed and followed Reese into the living room. Then he saw it, a nervousness in Reese that he himself felt, and it relaxed him to know Reese was the same.

“Can I get you something to drink or should we head on out?”

“Why don’t we take off. I’ve got reservations at 7:30 and it’ll take at least fifteen to get there.”

“Sounds good,” Jonathan replied, reaching around the wall to shut off the light over the dining table. “Let’s go.”

When they came out on the small front porch, Jonathan saw what Reese drove and smiled at the way it spoke of him. An old Ford Bronco, light blue, sat at the curb. Descending the steps and moving down the sidewalk, he saw the old SUV was in pristine shape. It even had the original hubcaps, the chrome shiny in the light.

“Nice Bronco. Must have set you back a fortune.”

“Thanks. It has cost me a fortune, but I got it from my grandfather, who got it from his dad, who had bought it new off the showroom floor, they like to remind me every time they see it. I had it restored, and that was painful, but…” and Reece looked at the truck in a way Jonathan knew it meant more than just a nice ride.

The restaurant was busy, but Jonathan and Reese were seated promptly, a small two top in the intimate courtyard along the side of the building. They were under a maple tree, with a small fountain in the center cutting the sound of others with its trickling water.

“How was the end of your week?” Reese asked.

“It was good. We’re…ah…well, getting some things set up.”

Reese laughed, shaking his head, then leaned in close, “it sucks to have to watch everything you say, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I wish I could just blurt it out, for it sounds crazy in my head.”

“If half the rumors I’ve heard are true, I bet.”

“What are they saying?”

“The fixer, Mr. Anderson is involved, and your group has a base of operations somewhere outside DC. And speculation on the location is in the mountains. Am I warm, hot? Cold?”

“You know I can’t answer that.”

“Is Anderson involved?”

“What did you work on the last two days?”

Reese grinned, sat back, folding his arms across his chest and Jonathan knew the body language. A closing up before something is revealed.

“Okay, I get it.”

They had dinner, talking about the routine things of their lives. Their favorite television programs, good books read and compared their list of restaurants they considered the best. After dinner they walked down the street to a small neighborhood bar and fell in with the locals, raising their voices to be heard over all the others talking too loudly.

A little after ten, the Bronco pulled up in front of Jonathan’s, and parked. It sat dark for a few minutes while Jonathan and Reese talked around what each were thinking. Jonathan, finally pushing past his reticence, asked Reese to come in. He needed to move on, and this moment, he needed the companionship of another.

Reese followed him into his home, and they settled in the living room, each with another drink.

“You’re debating whether or not to ask me to stay or leave.”

It was spoken as fact and Jonathan knew it was true.

“Yes. After Andrew…Andrei, its been kind of hard.”

“I can’t imagine, but I’ll do what you want. There will be a next time…right?”

Jonathan smiled, suddenly at ease, “yes, but we do have now.”

Jonathan lay on his back, legs around Reese, who was inside of him, moving back and forth and he felt it, every push and tug within his body. He savored the feel of it, another man inside him. He clung to Reese, threw his head back and felt lips move up along his neck, then soft whispers telling him how good he felt.

Reece held his hands down, while kissing his neck and shoulder, while pushing into his depths. He closed his eyes, focusing his senses on the feel of it. His nakedness, fully exposed to Reese, open to his ministrations was comforting. To give himself up to another, for each one’s pleasure. His own cock flexed with his arousal as Reese’s body pressed down on it, moving with their fuck.

Reese eased up, slipped free of his body and helped him to roll over. Then he felt the penetration, cock pushing back into his depths. Finally, he felt the weight of Reese. The large body blanketed him, pressing him into the mattress. Hands moved up each arm till fingers intertwined, and Reese’s pace increased. Lips touched the back of his neck, then nipped at his shoulder. The bed squeaked in rhythm with Reese, each push inward sounding out.

Then Reese was jamming cock into his depths, trying to push even deeper, shuddering against his back.

“Fuck,” Reese whispered, and Jonathan knew he was coming.

Then Jonathan was on his back, legs draped over Reese’s shoulders, cock buried in his mouth. Jonathan tried to hold back, to make the sensation of lips and tongue on his cock last, but he was too aroused. He jerked upward, pushing into Reese’s mouth then filled it with his load.

They lay a long time on top of the bed, Jonathan against Reese’s chest, feeling fingers rake along his arm, across his stomach and chest or along his neck.

“Do you want me to leave?” Reese whispered.

“No. Stay.”

Night settled over Virginia, and in the mountains, the air began to cool in the breezes that moved over the ancient land. In the house nestled in the woods of the mountain, the lights of the first floor were off, only three of the upper bedrooms remained illuminated, like campfires of long ago, their warm glow a comfort to those within, still stirring at this late hour. Two rooms were dark, one empty and in the other, a young boy sound asleep, his mind a swirl of images; of a family that rejected him and of a new family, of guys not much older. He dreamed of tunnels and flying and hands that glowed. He dreamed of the mountain melting then becoming solid again, more solid than before.

In the far bedroom, the one over the office, Preston lay on the bed with Brody on top, riding him, moving up and down. There was an unhurried pace to their sex, one where climax wasn’t important, it was the contact between them. For Preston it was the feel of Brody’s weight on top of him, the movement of that body, up and down, slowly, so slow he could feel it along every inch of his cock. He held each thigh, feeling them flex, as muscles moved the body up and down, and he dug fingers into the flesh, increasing the contact.

For Brody, it was the penetration, the feel of Preston inside him. It reinforced their bond, the commitment made to each other. He moved upward slowly to feel the thick shaft tug at his opening, and he moved down just as slow, feeling every inch bore into his depths, giving him a sense of fullness.

How long Brody was able to hold the slow pace, neither knew, nor cared. Time wasn’t a factor, the passage of it of no concern. The night was the night, no matter where the moon hovered in the sky and Brody continued to move on Preston. Gently rising, then moving down, controlling his pace, keeping it slow.

Eventually, their primitive natures overtook them, urged them to become more physical. Brody wanted to feel Preston come inside him. And Preston needed the release.

“Brody…please,” Preston whispered as he raised up and bear hugged the lean muscular body against his own. He felt the heat of it, feverish in its intensity. He felt it move in his arms, faster, rougher, the physical nature of their sex increasing rapidly. Reaching between them, Preston took Brody in hand, stroked the wet cock making Brody move faster. Soon the bed squeaked beneath them and rocked in rhythm to their fuck. Faster and faster, till Brody was wet with his exertions, moving slickly in Preston’s arms. He came first, spraying cum up Preston’s chest and stomach till the smell of it filled the room. Then Preston cried out, fell back on the bed pumping hips upward, as he stretched out his long torso. He pumped upward three times, pushing into Brody’s depths, and came.

The boy dreamed of Chester, and of Elizabeth, the cookies she had baked, the smell of them filling the kitchen. He dreamed of flying, this time without the plane, as Wesley could do. Then a nightmare surfaced, his father’s condemnations, the accusation he was evil, and flames erupted around him. He cried out softly in his sleep and Liam was there, putting out the flames with white light. Liam was there, holding him, telling him it was okay.

At the other end of the house, Wesley on his back, his left leg up, Quinton was up against him, pumping every inch into his depths. He stroked his cock in rhythm with Quinton, a fast pace, the urgency of their desires overwhelming. Wesley felt every push inward, with Quinton’s hips smacking against this ass with each one. It was their second time since retiring, and Quinton’s first load acted as lubricant, the slickness of it felt so good, as he piston inside Wesley.

Quinton circled the left leg, pulled it upward, twisting Wesley’s torso, and he thrust with renewed enthusiasm, of desire not yet diminished by fatigue or their first release. He felt his cock move through the tight opening and sink into the soft warmth of Wesley’s depths. He fucked faster, harder, pushing for his release, as Wesley twisted his head around and kissed him.

Quinton pulled free, moved between Wesley’s legs, lifting them to his chest. He moved forward, folding him in half until ass lifted in perfect alignment and he bore back into him, all the way. Hands raked along his sides and soft pleadings urged him on, as he fucked harder, faster, hips bouncing off ass. The bed squeaked and rocked, and the air smelled of sex and sweat while it reverberated with the sound of soft pleadings and labored breathing.

Too soon, unable to hold back another second, Quinton pushed into the depths of Wesley’s hole and came. He shuddered with every ejaculation, jamming hips against ass, till spent and too exhausted to continue. When he pulled free, he eased Wesley’s legs down and slid down between them, his head right next to Wesley’s hard, leaking cock. He held it at the base, angling it toward his mouth and slipped his lips over the head and pushed forward, taking nearly every inch. He moved aggressively, lips tight around the shaft as he moved up to the head and back down until it was pushing at the back of his throat. With eyes closed, he only used his sense of touch, the way Wesley felt in his mouth to know how aroused he was becoming, how close to release. He felt the smooth skin against his lips, with its rock-hard inner core. He felt the spongy head on his tongue and the soft pubic hair tickle his nose as he buried Wesley in his mouth. Then he felt the head flare out wider, the shaft thickened even more, and he buried the spurting cock into his mouth, capturing every wad that ejaculated from it.

The boy pulled up the covers, cocooning himself in the bed, and dreamed of running through valleys, climbing up mountains and of swimming across streams. Where he was going, he didn’t know. It was an adventure, and he smiled in his sleep, as he settled into a deeper state, softly snoring.

Liam moved over William, hips rising and falling in a steady pace. He looked down at the prone body, the narrow shoulders and long arms that reached out, clutching at the bed. And there was William turning to look up at him, a desperation in his expression. Liam leaned down and kissed the side of the mouth, raked his lips up along the jaw and tongued the silver hoop that pierced the earlobe.

“Fuck me…fuck me harder,” William pleaded, and Liam moved with greater authority, until his hips smacked noisily against ass, and the bed protested beneath them. They had been teasing each other for an hour, caressing backs and chests, touching sensitive spots only the other knew about, and pressed lips to familiar flesh, until they were too aroused to stop. Now Liam fucked with an urgency, the sound of bodies coming together nearly as loud as William’s pleadings. The cover of the bed was kicked off the side onto the floor. One pillow was crushed against the headboard as William pushed outward with his arms, using the leverage to push upward with his ass.  Liam grabbed at the sheet over the mattress, tugged on it till it threatened to rip as he hammered cock into the depths of William’s hole. He didn’t slow, fucked as fast as his body would allow him, muscles straining against the skin, skin that glistened wetly in the dim light.

“FUCK!” Liam exclaimed, as he shoved inward all the way, then jammed his hips against William’s ass over and over and over, each time ejaculating into it his cum.

They lay in a sweating heap, breathing hard. William rolled over, cock still hard and he took Liam’s hand and pulled him to follow, leading him into the bathroom. It was a simple bath, with a storage cabinet, then a long vanity with two lavatories, followed by a door to a water closet, and finally, at the end of the room, a large open shower, the heads projecting down from the ceiling.

As soon as the water ran warm, William pulled Liam under it, letting it cascade down their bodies. He moved up behind him, kissing his shoulder then up the long neck. He moved to the side and tongued the earlobe as he ran hands up and down the lean chest and stomach. Liam reached back and guided William to his opening, and William pushed against it, until he felt the squeeze on his cock as it breached the tightness.

He fucked slowly at first, letting the warm water rain over them, until his arousal became too great, then he fucked faster, holding the narrow waist as he plunged into the depths of Liam’s hole. Liam leaned forward, hands on the tile wall bracing himself for every push. William felt the surge of release and he leaned forward and nipped at the right shoulder as he shuddered with it, pumping his load into Liam’s depths.

The house grew quiet, all the lights turned off. The late night stirred with forest creatures and the breeze that raced over the mountain and down into the valley. Dreams mingled, intertwined in ways the boys would never understand. Their shared desires and sense of adventure spurned images of a fantastical nature, even to them.

Two Months Later

Jonathan led Reese out into the bright sunshine, and toward the park across the street. They had just finished lunch and were going to spend the afternoon doing as little as possible, just enjoying each other’s company. Traffic was busy, for it seemed the whole city was out enjoying the weather after a week of rain nearly every day.

A gap in traffic and they darted across the street, Reese leading the way, holding Jonathan’s hand. There were times they acted like high school sweethearts, and this was one of them. On the opposite sidewalk, they followed it back to the right, heading to one of the entries into the park.

Jonathan spotted it approaching but didn’t really think it would be the one he had seen stored away in Chester’s garage, but when it signaled and pulled up to the curb along-side them, he saw it was Chester. Reese whistled in admiration of the old SUV, a 68 Wagoneer that had been restored on the exterior, and heavily modified underneath. The windows were down, and Chester leaned over toward them.

“Jonathan, I’m glad I caught you. I  need you to come with me.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

Chester smiled, “we have our ways. And Reese Ferguson, nice to finally meet you. I’m Chester Anderson.”

“Anderson? You’re the…” Reese stammered, lowering his voice, “fixer.”

Chester laughed, “We can discuss that later. But I do think we should talk. Why don’t you get in too?”

“Chester? Are you sure?”

“My boy, I’ve checked out Mr. Ferguson, and I think we’ll be just fine. Besides, we should talk. There might be opportunities for him. But first, we need your expertise. So, let’s not waste any more time, shall we?”

Jonathan reached for the front door, then shifted to the back, “you get up front,” he said to Reese, who looked surprised for the first time since they had started dating. Reese eased down in the front seat as Jonathan climbed in back. Seat belts on, old sixties rock music turned back up, Chester pulled away from the curb.

“Chester, what do you need me for? Can you say?” Jonathan asked, not sure what Reese could hear.

“We got some chatter from an unknown source. Came in a couple of hours ago and John’s people can’t seem to work it out.”

“So, we’re going to NSA?”

“No, my boy, we’re going back to my place. We have everything there.”

“We’re driving all the way back to your house?”

“No; that’ll take too long.”

Jonathan didn’t pursue it further, not sure what Reese should hear, and he knew things were about to get interesting. That Reese was going to get answers to a lot of his questions, if not damn near every one of them. Chester drove with authority until they were at Andrews AFB, and without even having to stop, drove out to the tarmac. An Augusta Westland AW609 sat ready to take off, rotors tilted upward, slowly starting to spin.

“Let’s get on board,” said Chester, climbing out and handing the keys for the Wagoneer to a soldier, “Please take care of it for me.”

Reese followed Chester and Jonathan on board, took a seat in the narrow cabin. He still looked shocked, unable to comprehend the authority someone like Chester had, to be able to drive on base like he did and have a plane waiting. The rotors spun up, then the plane lifted off and began to move forward. As it gained speed, the rotors tilted forward, and the plane accelerated up to cruising speed as it gained altitude. The flight was short, about fifteen minutes and they circled around and down into a narrow valley.

“We’re going to the other house?” Jonathan whispered.

“Yes, Preston has everything laid out. And do stop fretting about Reese and what he is seeing. It’ll be okay.”

Reese stared out the window at the house tucked into the woods on the side of the mountain, then he looked down in the valley and saw a pad for landing. The rotors tilted upward, and the plane slowed until hovering over it. It descended slowly until wheels touched down. As the rotors slowed, the door was opened, and everyone moved to get out.

“This is Chester’s place, the one rumored about?” asked Reece, when he moved along side of Jonathan.

“Actually, Chester’s house is on the other side of the mountain. This one belongs to…”

“This is the boy’s house. Come along, let’s not keep them waiting,” said Chester as he moved past them to an electric passenger cart, ready to carry them up to the house.

Reese stood in total shock. He had seen a lot in his six years at the agency. Things he had sworn to secrecy for the rest of his life. But he stood in a house that looked normal in so many ways, but in other aspects, defied normalcy as he knew it. Frist was the house itself, with a large dining room where two tables sat in parallel, each able to seat twelve. He’d seen into the kitchen earlier, and it looked more commercial than residential, with stainless steel appliances and wall finishes, and behind him a living room with the largest flat screen he had ever seen in a house, with gaming console and controllers lying below. Then there were the occupants. Preston and Brody were young but looked old enough to be holding down some responsibility, but not the rumors he had heard. He watched them come out of the kitchen carrying platters of meat and soft taco shells in terra cotta dishes and an assortment of ingredients to make them. The smell of spicy meat filled the room and he remembered Preston and Brody were down in Mexico for years, some place off the grid. Wesley came out carrying a pitcher of margaritas, with Quinton behind him, carrying an ice bucket talking a mile a minute. Reese looked at them, the oldest of the field team and he saw two guys far too young for any such mission work. What were they? Early twenties? Liam came down the stair, followed by his boyfriend, both up for the day from the university and Reese knew they were not over eighteen, nineteen at most. It was ludicrous, but not more so than when he looked at the young boy, already seated at one table next to Chester, telling of his recent studies in science. A kid, not even old enough to drive.

As Jonathan walked by, coming from the bathroom, Reese grabbed him by the arm pulling him close. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“I know how it looks. Let’s eat, then everything will be explained.”

Reese had been at the house for over four hours, most spent in a room that was more home study than any base of operations, that is, until he saw the computer system on one wall. It was powerful, more than any at the agency and the speed of it was astonishing. Jonathan pulled up the data captured by NSA, doing analysis of each section, then doing the tracking, working by roadblocks and false leads, until after four hours, he was printing out his report with translations of the messages, what they were referring to in their codes and where the message originated. Reese had been stunned at the speed of it, not knowing anyone at the agency that was this fast. Why they let Jonathan leave, he couldn’t comprehend it. And through it all, sat Chester, relaxed, always composed, offering guidance, and once when some data was found to be withheld, made one phone call and within a minute the data was released. Who had that authority? He thought of the offer Chester laid on the table, to come join them. They were just a bunch of kids, is all he could think, as he watched everyone gather in the dining room.

“Come Reese, take a seat. We’ll eat, then explain everything,” said Chester, motioning to the chair on his right, his wife moving to the one on the left.

Reese saw the arrangement, Chester at the head with Preston at the other end. The couples sat next to each other, with Elijah, the boy, next to Liam, the one he seemed the closest. Once seated, the platters were passed around and soon they began to eat, and for Reese, he found himself eating the best tacos he had ever had.

It was dark by the time they were finished, and the guys had the kitchen cleaned up. They moved down into the yard below the house, to a small clearing with a firepit, flames rising from the burning wood. They sat on benches or chairs, a loose circle around the fire, each one’s face glowing in its amber light. They had been talking amongst themselves when Chester called for everyone to be quiet so he could talk. Then he told of the first case, the girl that tragedy befell, and he told of their grief and frustration of agencies not equipped to handle such a situation. They had considered it an anomaly, a freak occurrence, then Wesley showed up.

“Go on, Wesley, show him,” said Chester.

“Just the basics or should I show how fast?”

“Bring us a souvenir from someplace.”

“Okay.”

Wesley moved away from the others, then stood still, winking at Quinton. Then he was gone. Reese perceived for a fraction of a second Wesley moving upward, but suddenly Wesley was moving faster than he could see him. He looked around at the others stunned by what he had seen. Fifteen minutes later, Wesley appeared, suddenly, hovering over them. He held up a napkin with K-Paul’s on it. Reese stood up to look closer.

“That is in New Orleans,” Reese uttered. He blinked and Wesley stood by his side, holding out the napkin.

“Very good; wasn’t sure if you would know it, or not.”

“You…can fly?”

“Yeah.”

“And so fast you can go to New Orleans and back in fifteen minutes?”

“Yes. There is some kind of field associated with my ability. I’m cocooned within it as soon as I lift off, and I seem to be able to move almost frictionlessly through space. But I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure,” Reese repeated.

“Okay, Liam, you’re up,” said Chester.

Liam moved to the side of the group, held his hands out and soon each were circled by white light. It grew brighter, then arcs of light passed between them, cackling and popping like high voltage.

“Watch this,” said Quinton, getting a smile of approval from William.

Liam clapped his hands and a streak of lightening went to the ground and up into the atmosphere. For a second, the light was blinding, then it was dark, Liam standing relaxed, hands by his side.

“I don’t get it, how?” Reece asked.

“Not sure, but I’ve been doing a bit of research at the university,” Liam replied.

“And the amperage?”

“It varies. I can do a very low charge or a very high one.”

“Let’s not get into details we’re still trying to figure out. Reese, just know what capabilities the boys have. Elijah? Would you like to show Reese what you can do?”

Elijah smiled, always glad to be a part of something with the boys. He moved toward Reese who saw nothing but a tall, skinny kid of thirteen approaching.

“Set your beer bottle on the ground,” Elijah asked, pointing at Reese’s empty.

The bottle on the ground, Reese stepped back not sure what to expect. The bottle suddenly looked soft, the glass slightly distorted, then it glowed and fell into a puddle of melted glass.

“Now watch this,” said Liam, looking at Chester, knowing it would even surprise him.

Elijah looked at the pool of glass and it began to return to its original form, the shape of the bottle in every detail. Then it solidified. The only missing aspect was the label that had been painted on its side.

“Jesus,” Reese uttered, suddenly all too aware how very different this group was from any the agency had set up. They could be unstoppable with their capabilities, and with Jonathan’s computer skills; he couldn’t fathom it.

“Reese, my boy, I know it is a lot to take in. Quite frankly, Elijah surprised me with his ability to return the bottle to its original shape. But now you understand what the group is able to do, I think you should consider my offer. Why don’t you and Jonathan return to the city. I’ll call down and have the plane ready. Jonathan, take the Wagoneer to get home.”

“Yes, sir,” Jonathan replied, standing up and moving to Reese’s side. “You ready to go home?”

“Yes…I…Jesus…” Reese stammered as he followed Jonathan to the garage where they left the cart.

The plane lifted off, circled around, and with beams of light punching through the darkness, climbed higher and higher. It moved down the narrow valley, gaining altitude, until it soared over the mountain and headed back to the base. Jonathan stayed silent, letting Reese process what he had seen. They arrived at the base, the tarmac still active with men running back and forth and planes landing for the night. They hovered over it and landed softly near the place they had taken off earlier in the day. Climbing out, they saw the Wagoneer sitting out, ready to go.

Jonathan drove slowly, easing the SUV through the evening traffic, afraid of getting in a wreck with Chester’s newest toy. They crossed the river, heading south, when Reese finally spoke.

“I see why you’re so tight lipped. Most people would think you’re crazy. Hell, everyone would think it. But those abilities…fuck, why are they not being utilized more?”

“Some higher ups are nervous about them. They can’t control those boys, you know, keep them in line following some random orders.”

“Yeah, but…and Chester Anderson, he’s the fixer, is he not?”

Jonathan nodded his head as he changed lanes ready to exit the interstate.

“I’ve heard the rumors, but…fuck me. They are so uninformed. I mean…do you know the capabilities you guys possess? There is nothing you can’t do. That kid…changing something’s state, and so easily. You expect him to have to wave a hand or make a face like he was struggling with this power, but nothing. He just looked at it and…”

“I know. It has been a wild time coming on board.”

“But you’re not active, not really.”

“No, not yet. And Chester says there is a lot to learn. How to handle a mission on the ground.”

“And that is why he wants me.”

“It would seem so.”

“You didn’t know he was going to approach me, did you?”

“No. To be honest, I’m not sure I told him your full name. I guess I should have known Chester had his ways.”

“He’s infamous in the agency. A real ghost.”

“I bet. From what I can tell, he answers to no one, and Preston is taking over, and honestly, I think Preston might be better at it.”

“Preston is the only one that is real family to him?”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t know it by the way he treats everyone. Especially Eli. The boy has the run of both houses.”

“Chester said his house was on the other side of the mountain and they were connected.”

“That’s right. There’s a tunnel cut through the mountain. Are you considering his offer?”

“Of course, I am. You did, so you know I’d be a fool not to.”

Jonathan drove them back to where Chester picked them up, so Reese could get his Bronco. It was getting late and both were tired, so they agreed to meet for breakfast the next morning. On the way home, he reflected on the day, how at times he worried they had thrown too much at Reese, and it would ultimately drive him away. But on the way back, he watched how Reese was processing everything, at times chuckling to himself. By the time they were coming in to land, he saw the old stoic nature return and he knew everything would be alright.

Six Years Later

John and Ruth Christensen went out to their front porch to enjoy the feel of the first fall day. The air had a coolness to it they had been seeking for a long time, the summer having broken records every month. Ruth sat in the swing, her legs swelling again from the extra weight she carried. She had put it on over the last six years, ever since Elijah had to leave. She dared not mention his name, not in front of John, but she thought of her youngest every day. Her two oldest were on mission duty, Adam in Dallas and Joshua in Seattle. They call once a month, as allowed and she cherished each minute, she is allowed to talk with them. But it is Elijah she misses the most.

She watches John ease down in the chair that sits between the front door and living room window, seeing him grimace with pain from his knees. They are only in their forties, far too soon for such health issues, but she feels they are being punished. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t reflect on what happened with Elijah, wondering if they had been wrong, then trying not to think of it, for to do so, to consider they were wrong, would tear her apart.

Two years ago, they sold the small farm and moved into town, since John was unable to work it. It was a small house, who’s only real feature was the porch that spanned the front. They waved at the Carlson’s out for their daily walk and watched Rachel Schmidt drive by in her old Pontiac. A single-engine prop plane flew overhead, going toward their small airport, and the sound of a police siren could be heard a few blocks away. Ruth sipped her water as she watched John open his Bible, the cover threadbare, held together with black tape. He read in it constantly, but she wondered if he really comprehended any of it. She knew when she married John Christensen, he was not the smartest man in the world, but she had loved him. But since Elijah left, she struggled with her feelings toward her husband.

She heard a jet, something rare in Chadron, and looked up to see the small jet race across the sky. It was unusual for its color. Unlike most, that were white, this one was dark, almost black, with only the white letters and numbers on its rudder. She watched it heading west till it was out of sight, wondering where such a plane came from and where it was heading, thinking it might be Casper, Wyoming, or one of the airfields people used to get to Yellowstone.

Fifteen minutes passed, and John closed his Bible and climbed to his feet. “I’m going to the bathroom. When I come back out, you want me to bring you something?”

“No, dear, I’m fine.”

The door eased closed and Ruth sat quietly on the porch, watching the afternoon traffic pass by. An SUV pulled up, a Jeep or Dodge, Ruth was never sure of the makes of all these new vehicles. She watched two young men climb out. The one from the passenger side was average height, with black hair cut short, dressed in a black shirt and jeans, and when he turned, she saw he had earrings in each ear. She grimaced at the thought of it, a man dressing in some manner like a woman. She wondered who the men were coming to visit, when she gasped, unable to catch her breath. She saw the young man from the driver’s side come around the front of the vehicle. He was tall, lean, with blonde hair, a little long on top. She knew when he looked up but was afraid of the truth. She sat frozen, watching as he moved up next to the other man, took his hand and led him up the walk toward the porch. She was holding her breath, watching as Elijah led the other boy up the four steps, moved across the porch until they were standing before her.

“Mother,” Elijah greeted her.

“Elijah?” She was shocked for the young man before her looked like her son, but the way he was dressed, spoke of someone very different. Dressed in a white banded collar shirt, black jeans and boots with thick soles (something Eli did not need with his six foot three height), she looked at him and felt intimidated.

“Yes, mother and this is Brandon, my boyfriend.”

Elijah was sure of the reaction he was going to get, but he had to know. Would they still reject him after six years? He had been restless the last year, depressed at times thinking of it, until Chester told him there was only one thing he could do. Fly out and see them, finding out how they would react. But Chester had warned him, old prejudices were hard to die off and to brace himself for the worst.

Elijah stood before the woman he knew as his mother. She looked different. Hair was thinning and she was obese. He could see her swelled feet and knew her health was bad. He looked through the window into the living room, wondering where his father was at. When he looked back at his mother, he saw it in her eyes. Fear. She was frightened of him, even after all this time.

“You can’t be making such a choice,” she stammered, pointing at Brandon, “it’s wrong.”

“Mother, I don’t agree. But I didn’t come here to argue. I came to see you; to see how you’re doing.”

The front door swung open and John Christensen came out, his walk stiff, revealing the bad knees that pained him constantly.

“Who are…Elijah,” John uttered, eyes growing wide. He started to approach, then saw Elijah holding the other boy’s hand, and he stepped back as if struck. “No,” he whispered.

“How are Adam and Joshua?” asked Elijah, trying to change tact.

“They…are…on missions,” Ruth stammered.

“Oh, yeah; the forced duty of being a missionary.”

“It’s not forced,” John exclaimed but he stepped back again when Elijah looked his way. “What did they do to you?”, his voice trembling with either fear or anger, or both.

“Nothing but give me a home, an education and the ability to be myself.”

“But you’re a…” Ruth uttered, unable to say the word.

“Yes, mother, I’m gay. It is who I am. And you know what? I knew when I was thirteen.”

“Get off my porch. You need to leave…now,” John stammered, his voice quivering.

“Okay, we’re leaving. I just had to know if you would still reject me. I guess I have my answer.”

Brandon pulled Elijah toward the steps and guided him down to the walk. He led him toward the rental Chester had arranged to be at the airport.

“Eli, you’re going to have to let them go. They’re too caught up in their prejudices,” said Brandon, thinking he was whispering low enough only Eli could hear him, but Ruth heard, every word, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, she watched her youngest leave and knew it would be the last time she saw him.

Brandon drove them back to the airport, Eli fighting back the tears until he was unable and let them pool then trickle down his cheeks.

“I just thought…after all this time…”

“I know. You hoped things would be different. But we knew there was a possibility it would not be.”

“It still hurts,” Eli whispered as he pulled out his cell phone. He pulled up a number and hit send, listening to it ring. Three times then Chester answered.

“It did not go well.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…I guess.”

“Are you heading back to the airport?”

“Yes. We’re about halfway there.”

“There’s a change in plan. I’ve decided we need a break. You’ll fly to New Orleans and we’ll meet you there.”

“Really, that sounds nice. Will everyone be coming?’

“All except Preston and Brody. They have other plans.”

“Where’s Preston dragging Brody to this time?”

“Koh Lanta, Thailand.”

“Damn, it’ll take them a day to get there.”

“Yes, it will.”

“We’re coming into the airport. We’ll see you in New Orleans.”

“We’ll be there around nine tonight. Plan on a late dinner in town. And Eli?”

“Yes, Chester?”

“I know it hurts, but just remember, you have us.”

“Hang in there Eli!” Liam’s voice yelled in the background, and hearing it, Eli smiled.

“Thanks guys. We’ll see you tonight. We’re wheels up in five.”

Eli had hoped there would be reason to stay for a few days, but now he couldn’t stand the thought of another minute in the place. Brandon had called ahead while he talked to Chester, telling the crew to be ready to take off as soon as they got back. Duffel bags in hand, they raced across the tarmac, up the steps and into the plane. Within minutes it was taxing to the runway where it spooled up the jet engines, raced down the runway and lifted off.

“Hey, Nathan?”

“Yes, Eli?”

“How fast can you fly this thing to New Orleans?”

“We can be there in about an hour and a half, if we push it.”

 “Push it.”

“Yes, sir,” Nathan replied, laughing as Eli and Brandon felt the plane accelerate.

“When are you going to tell me what is going on? Who the other guys are and…”

“In time. Right now, just know Preston and Chester have the means to arrange things most of us can’t even imagine.”

“I’ll say. A private jet to bumfuck, nowhere, then a change of course and we’re going to be in New Orleans in less than two hours? Jesus, do you know how unusual that is?”

“Yes. I’m reminded of it every day.”

“I called home and told mom we’re going on a class trip.”

“Where did you say we’re going?”

“New York.”

Eli laughed, for Brandon had been shocked to find out his living arrangements at home. He had taken him a few weekends before. Of course, he avoided the tunnel to the other side where he really lived with the guys, instead showing him around Chester and Elizabeth’s home, the one that was his too, at least publicly. With the trip to see his parents, he asked Brandon to accompany him.  Brandon had been shocked by the private jet, one more thing that defied expectations. He knew sooner or later he had to tell him more, but when, he wasn’t sure. He had asked William when Liam had finally told him everything and tried to listen without laughing at the way Liam revealed one thing at a time, but the special ability had been a slip up.

The introduction of the other guys had been the most difficult to explain, how the guys lived on the other side of the mountain but were associated with Chester in the same manner as he. Boys he had taken in, all except for Preston. Brandon had asked so many questions, questions he had skirted around for the most part.

Looking across the aisle, he watched Brandon as he looked out the window at the land of Nebraska passing by. They were headed southeast, toward Louisiana and the Big Easy.

John had gone back inside, leaving Ruth on the porch. She cried softly, wondering what she could have done differently. Eli and that other boy had not been gone long, when she heard another jet. When it came into view, she realized it looked the same as the one earlier, but this time heading east, then turned toward the south. She watched it until no longer visible. It had appeared just before Eli arrived and now it appeared again, right after he left. She gasped, grabbing at her throat, not believing what she was considering. There was no way her son had been on that jet. It defied logic, and were it true, it meant he was better off without them.

Two hours later, Brandon pulled up in front of the Roosevelt hotel in downtown New Orleans. He had never seen it before, but had heard Brody describe it more than once, when telling of the time Preston and he fled to Mexico. He looked up at the grand entrance as a doorman approached their SUV rental, still impressed by its old grandeur.

“You’re fucking kidding me. We’re staying here?” Brandon asked, looking over, shocked.

“Yes. It is where Preston and Brody stayed when they went down to Mexico.”

“This hotel? Jesus, look at it,” Brandon replied, opening his door.

Eli popped the tailgate to allow the doorman to retrieve their luggage, then led Brandon inside. Across the ornate lobby, and up to the desk.

“Elijah Christensen? Room for two.”

“Yes, sir, we got your reservation a couple of hours ago. We’re surprised you’re hear already, but your room is available. You’ll be in the Waldorf Suite. Jason, their key. Just follow Jason here and he’ll lead you to your room.”

“Thanks, and one more thing. Did my group say how many would be making the trip?”

“No, sir. They just booked all the suites available and…let’s see…four rooms total.”

“Thanks.”

Brandon walked next to Eli as they followed Jason to the elevators.

“We’re in a suite?” Brandon whispered, and Eli just shrugged, knowing he was about to have more to explain.

They rode up the elevator to their floor and followed Jason to the door of their room. They entered a small foyer, and to their left saw it opened into a living-dining room. Through double doors, off the living room was the bedroom with a king size bed. Jason set their luggage down, handed Eli the key who slipped him a few bills as a tip, and left them alone in the room.

“Jesus…Eli…this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but Chester isn’t one to skimp.”

“No shit,” Brandon replied going to the window to look out over the city of New Orleans.

Eli came up behind Brandon, putting his arms around him. “The others won’t be here until tonight, so we have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.”

Brandon giggled then turned in Eli’s arms. “I saw that king size bed. You want to go mess it up?”

“Yes.”

Eli moved over Brandon; their fingers intertwined as he held him down. He pushed into Brandon’s depths feeling the body beneath him shudder with the penetration. He undulated his body, working hips to tug his cock outward then push back in, over and over. He felt a kiss on the left wrist and watched Brandon then bite at it, lightly, driven by desire and lust, mixing pain and pleasure. Eli had warmed his ass with his hand, spanking it till it glowed red, then he listened to Brandon beg to be fucked, till he couldn’t’ hold back. He had pushed him down on the bed, crawled over the prone body and rubbed his cock over the heated ass cheeks. Then he watched Brandon reach back, spreading them, and he put his cock to the little opening and punched through its tightness, making him cry out. Brandon liked it a little rough, this mixture of pain and pleasure that made their sex so physical. Eli had been hesitant to admit to Liam and William what they did. But he eventually told them, every detail. The spanking before fucking. The nipple play, and how it was made better with the bars through each of Brandon’s nipples. And there were the blindfolds, the wrist and ankle cuffs, and spreader bar. Gear that had embarrassed him at first, gave him pause, but Brandon had walked him through it, guided him on how to give pleasure and pain, providing the sex he desired. And Eli found himself aroused by their role play and the physical aspects of their sex. Brandon was a city boy, from Baltimore, who showed up in his history class. It was their first Fall Semester. He had been shocked how Brandon asked him out a week into the semester. Eli didn’t know how Brandon could have taken a chance he too was gay, but it pleased him, made him want to be with him. So, on that Wednesday morning, before the professor stepped up to the podium and Brandon sitting next to him waiting on his answer, he smiled, nodding his head yes, before uttering the word. Over a year later, their relationship continued to grow.

Now he held Brandon down, pinned to the bed as he fucked him slowly, grinding hips against warm ass cheeks with every penetrating push inward. He fucked till his own body felt feverish, every point of contact with Brandon hot. He began to sweat, and his breathing grew labored as he piston cock inside Brandon’s depths.

“Goddamn…fuck me,” Brandon cried out, pushing upward with his ass, trying to get Eli deeper inside of him.

Eli raised himself on his hands and began to fuck hard, fast, hips smacking against ass. The bed rocked beneath them as he hammered cock inside Brandon, drove inward all the way and pulled outward till nearly free. He fucked until sweat rained down on Brandon and his body ached for his release. Every muscle seemed to be burning from his exertions as he kept up a steady fast pace.

Then Eli wanted to see Brandon’s eyes, the look of desire he knew would be in them, and he pulled out and roughly flipped him over. Legs on his shoulders, he plunged back into Brandon’s depths and moved over him, folding the muscular body in half. Brandon’s ass lifted off the mattress, angled perfectly to his cock and he began to fuck again. He drove inward all the way and leaned over further, folding Brandon until thighs pressed against chest, and he kissed him, bit at the lower lip, tugging on it, then raising his head to watch Brandon’s face as he fucked him.

He looked at the face that looked so innocent at times, but not now. Now it stared up at him, eyes pleading him to fuck harder. He saw the mischievous boy that took him to levels of pleasure that had scared him, but in the end, aroused him to the point he didn’t know if he could ever let Brandon go. This guy his own age, but so different from how he viewed himself. The loose way he used profanity, especially during sex. Words considered blasphemous, damning. Words he himself rarely used, but loved to hear Brandon say, defiantly, or as now, in a crude primitive way to spurn him on.

“Fuck…fuck…do it…fuck me harder,” Brandon uttered as he ran hands down Eli’s sides until they were on the narrow waist and he held on tight, fingers digging into the firm flesh.

The feel of the tight grip, the slick skin against his own and the begging for him to fuck harder drove him to move faster, thrusting into Brandon as deeply as he could. He fucked to the point of exhaustion. Then sweet release. He jammed into Brandon’s depths and came. Hard. Shuddering with every ejaculation.

Finally spent, Eli moved to Brandon’s side and ran his hand down the slick skin of the chest, downward, intent on taking the hard cock and suck it to release. But he felt the pools of cum, thick wads turning runny as he ran his fingers through it.

“You came already?”

“Oh yeah. It was great the way you fucked it out of me,” Brandon replied, leaning over to kiss.

A knock on the door and Eli went to answer it dressed for their late dinner. Steel grey dress shirt and jeans that accentuated his tall lean frame. He swung the door open to see Chester standing there, smiling at him.

“My boy, how are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“I’m sorry about how your trip went.”

“Thanks, Chester.” Eli had developed a habit of calling Chester by his first name, unlike the other guys, something Chester secretly liked. “Brandon! Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” Brandon replied from around the corner. A second later he was behind Eli. “Mr. Anderson, nice to see you again.”

“And you,” Chester replied.

“Is everyone here?” Eli asked.

“Yes; all checked in and heading down. We’re meeting in the lobby. Shall we go?”

“Yes; I’m starving,” Brandon replied, pushing Eli to move.

It was nearly midnight, but the French Quarter was as busy as ever. They strolled down the busy sidewalks, stopping to look into busy bars and listening to the music coming out. There was no hurry, their pace slow, as they made their way back to the hotel. Robert and Helen were in front, followed by Chester and Elizabeth. The boys followed with Jonathan and Reese bringing up the rear, talking back and forth, joking around, most of which was Liam asking Eli how they had spent the late afternoon, while waiting on everyone to arrive, the insinuation obvious as he pretended to spank William.

The hotel came into view as they crossed the last street. It was quieter, without the bars and restaurants of the French Quarter, and everyone lowered their voices, so as not to disturb the calm of the late night. Suddenly a cell phone was ringing, and three of them patted pockets wondering if it were their phone. It was Robert’s, and he answered the call, stepping to one side.

“John? What is it?”

Robert listened as the others gathered around, knowing it could not be good if John was calling so late.

“Okay, we’re on it. We’re almost back to the hotel and should be able to get in the air within the hour.” Robert ended the call and looked at Chester, then to Wesley, Liam and Eli. “We need to meet in my room…now. Chester, are you good for making arrangements since Preston isn’t here?”

“Of course, just let me know what you need.”

“First thing is a plane to get us to Kotzebue, Alaska, and Chester.”

“Yes?”

“The runway is short.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s go.”

Brandon pulled on Eli’s arm, slowing him down. “What is going on? Alaska? In the middle of the night?”

“I can’t explain it, not now. There is too much to discuss,” Eli replied, worried he was pushing Brandon away with the secrecy. He looked up and saw Chester was waiting for them, with a worried look. “Please, Brandon, I’ll explain it when we get back; I promise. Just stay here until morning and catch a flight back to DC.”

At five in the morning, Anchorage time, a dark bronze jet landed at Ted Stevens Anchorage International. It taxied quickly to the southern area of the airport and stopped where an Augusta Westland tiltrotor sat waiting. Within minutes, Robert, Reese, Jonathan, Wesley, Liam and Eli were racing across the tarmac, leaving Brody and William with the jet to wait. The rotors began to turn, gaining speed. Soon, the craft lifted off, and headed northwest. It would take two hours to arrive at their destination, the small town of Kotzebue, on the western coast of Alaska, above the Arctic Circle.

Robert looked at his laptop again, then closed it. “Okay guys, as you know there has been a breach in security at Wainwright and two suspects were last seen heading west via a Cessna 185, a single prop plane. The plane was found at nine PM local time, last night in Kiana, a small town about forty miles to the west of Kotzebue. We think they have a boat hidden somewhere in the river delta. It is a vast area and is going to be difficult to find them. But if they use any telecommunications, we should know where they are.”

“How are we going to do this search?” asked Reese.

“Since Wesley has that weird field around him when flying, he’ll do it, and we’ll take up a couple of helicopters, Robert and I in one, and you, Liam and Eli in the other,” said Jonathan.

“So, three search groups.”

“Yes, and based on the last intel, we think we should focus in this area,” said Robert pointing to an area along the northern stretch of the delta.

“Do we know what they took?” asked Liam.

“All I know is it is a flash drive. What is on it, we don’t know.”

They flew along the southern edge of Selawik Lake then swung out over Hotham Inlet, heading north. Wesley swung around to Robert who was back into his laptop.

“Richard?”

“Yes?”

“Why bring us in? This is a simple manhunt.”

“From what John said, the terrain is rough, and they asked for you. We offered the package deal and they said yes.”

“Are they sure these guys haven’t gotten away by boat?”

“Oh, they’re sure. They are watching the area intensely, looking for anything that leads to their capture. They want to retrieve the flash drive to see what they were able to get.”

“Okay,” replied Wesley turning back around.

Back over land, mostly marsh and small bodies of water, they cut to the west until they saw the airport. They came in low, running along the north side of the runway until over the tarmac where the rotors tilted upward, and the craft set down. Two helicopters awaited them, both Air Force, and soon they were back in the air, Wesley in the one with Robert and Jonathan. Heading due east, they flew back over the inlet then over the delta region.

Robert looked at Wesley, nodding his head, then radioed to the pilots to slow, so they could open the door.

“Excuse me?” the pilot replied.

“Just slow down, and remember, anything you see on this mission is top secret.”

“Yes, sir.”

The helicopter slowed and Wesley slid the side door open, stood at the threshold and flew out.

“Holy fuck,” the pilot exclaimed as the helicopter wobbled in flight.

“Easy, gentlemen, let’s not crash,” said Richard, knowing how it must look. He keyed the radio Wesley was wearing, “Can you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You know the area to concentrate. Keep in constant touch,” said Richard, looking over at the other helicopter as it stayed on an eastern course while they swung south toward the main river.

Richard looked over at Jonathan then back out the window, wondering how long it would take. The military had been searching since the escape sometime the night before. The sun broke the horizon as they followed one tributary. They had been flying for only fifteen minutes and Richard had settled back for a long day.

“Richard! I got them,” Wesley radioed.

“Roger, that. Location?”

“They’re splitting up. The signal will be with the one on foot. I’ll pursue the one in a boat. Should have him momentarily.”

“We got the signal,” Reese radioed, “we’re on it.”

“Jesus, who the fuck are you guys,” the co-pilot asked, looking back at Richard.

“Take us to the coordinates but hover in place,” Richard replied, not answering the man.

Wesley had the issue of being fired upon, and he flew in a random pattern around the guy speeding away in a boat. It was a racing boat, long hulled and sleek, and in the calm waters, the boat was able to go nearly full speed. The speed was a joke to Wesley, and he knew sooner or later the guy’s gun would be empty. Then he would make his move.

Reese and Liam jumped out of the helicopter first, followed by Eli, both running as fast as they could through the snow, weaving around the trees. Reese moved on a path to the left while Liam, then Eli took the one on the right. There could be no escape. Their helicopter rose back above the tree line as they made their way to the target. Liam was fast on his feet, and soon was out of sight. Eli ran as fast as he could, not wanting to be too far behind. He cut past a small pond, then through dense growth, arms up to protect this face. He glimpsed Liam ahead, not more than a hundred feet, before disappearing again. A gun shot rang out, loud in the silent terrain, echoing across the land.

“NO!” Eli exclaimed as he ran ahead. He came to a clearing along a small lake, it’s surface solid ice. On the bank lay Eli, and out on the ice, the man was skating away. “No, no, no,” he uttered, then keyed his mike, “Liam! He’s been hit.”

Eli ran up to Liam who sat up, holding his stomach on the right side.

“Eli…stop him,” Liam uttered, then fell back.

Eli felt his fear change, grow into anger. He didn’t know what he would do if Liam died. They discussed the danger of injury this far from medical help. How any minor occurrence could become something serious. He walked down to where the snow gave way to ice at the lake’s edge and watched the man skating away. He wore a large backpack that concealed much of his upper body and white clothing that blended in with the surroundings. “STOP!” Eli called out.

The man swung around and fired his gun, the bullet skipping off the ice a few feet away.

“Stop,” Eli called out again, this time without the anger and fear. The man swung around and fired once more. The bullet went wild, hitting a tree somewhere behind Eli. He looked across the lake, whispering “no.” The surface of the lake began to mist, then suddenly, without warning the entire surface melted.

The man plunged down, out of sight. Then he resurfaced, fighting to keep his head up. He cried out, asking for help, then sank back down. Eli closed his eyes and the entire surface froze. The ice was perfect, crystal clear without a blemish in its surface. A hundred feet out, just below its surface, the man was frozen, his dead eyes staring up.

Reese rushed out of the trees and to Liam. A helicopter flew over, circled around over the lake and came back to the small clearing where Eli and Reese waited, Reese holding Liam to his chest. Richard was next to Eli before he realized the helicopter had landed.

“How is he?”

“I don’t know…he was conscious a minute ago.”

“Wesley,” Richard radioed.

“Yes,” came Wesley’s reply.

“We need you, now!”

The urgency in Richard’s voice was evident.

“I’m handing over the other guy now. Where are you?”

Within seconds, Wesley was standing next to Eli and Richard, as Reese held Liam. “No,” he uttered, and he lifted Liam. He looked at Reese, then Richard, eyes pleading. “Where is the nearest hospital?”

“There’s a facility in Kotzebue.”

Wesley didn’t say anything; merely turned to face the west and was gone.  

Eli looked up expecting to see Wesley flying away, but the gray sky was empty, not even a bird in sight.

“Eli? Where’s the other man?” asked Reese

Eli turned to Reese and pointed out over the lake.

“Did he get away?”

“No,” Eli replied, then he began to tremble. “Richard? I’ve never killed anything in my life…I killed him.”

Richard realized what had happened as he and Reece looked across the crystal-clear ice of the lake. He considered Eli’s age, only eighteen and still an innocent in so many ways. He moved to Eli, putting a hand on one shoulder. “At times, we have no choice. It’s a terrible thing, but Eli, what happened…you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Richard led Eli to the helicopter, and into a seat. “Let them know we’re on our way back to the airport and will need a ride to the medical center,” he told the crew as they buckled in. “And let your commander know the second man is in the lake.”

“Yes, sir.”

Richard was on the phone with John, going over the events of that morning. Wesley capturing one man, who was turned over, along with the flash drive. How the other man was in the small lake, a secured team needed to cut him out, and do something about the perfect ice over it, before a civilian stumbled upon it. He glanced around at Reese and Jonathan sitting either side of Eli, who still looked depressed.

“And John, get with Chester. I want arrangements to take the boys somewhere away from all of this. Eli, he…”

“Richard, I get it. It’s a lot for someone so young, especially someone like Eli. I’ve read his file enough to know the situation. I’ll call Chester as soon as we hang up. They are wanting word anyway.”

They landed at the small airport, where the local police rushed them to the medical clinic nearby. Everyone was sitting quietly, no one sure what to say. After only thirty minutes, a doctor came through the doors.

“Who is the boy’s guardian?”

Eli stood but it was Richard who replied, “me.”

“We got the bullet out and he is resting in post-op. We’ll have him in a room soon and you can see him.”

“So, he’s fine?” Eli blurted out.

“Oh, yes, very good. But there is something I want to ask. Has he been involved in some experiment or something?”

Richard grimaced, knowing it could not be good. “What happened?”

“When we first began to go in to retrieve the bullet, he, well, shocked us.”

Eli laughed and Richard cut him a serious look. “Shocked you, how?” Richard asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we need that left off any record. No mention of it anywhere. And we’ll need copies of all medical records on his case to make sure,” said Richard holding out a business card with one of their dummy companies on it.

“But we have to make a record…”

“Not this. I’ll have someone contact you to answer any questions. Now when can we see him?” Richard replied, dismissing the doctor’s objections.

When the doctor left, Richard called John with an update.

“Let them know Liam is out of surgery and we can go in soon, that everything went well. But John, there was an issue during surgery.” And Richard explained about Liam giving the doctors a shock.

“I bet that scared them?” John replied, chuckling. “Can you imagine? We really don’t know what these boys are capable of, do we?”

“No,” Richard replied, looking at the movement he caught sight of, seeing the doctor coming into the waiting room with an expression of shock, his face ghost white. “John, I need to go. Appears we are not finished with the doctor.”

“Call me later,” said John, ending the call abruptly.

Richard stood as the doctor approached. The others came over, standing by his side. The doctor came up to them, wringing his hands, twisting the gloves he carried. Up close Richard could see how panicked the doctor looked, who glanced around to see who was nearby before speaking.

“I just check on our patient and…Jesus…I’ve never…the place he had been shot, where we cut to retrieve the bullet…”

“Yes?” asked Richard, impatient at the doctors stammering.

“He’s almost completely healed. I don’t know how…it’s only been about an hour, but…”

“I see,” Richard replied, smiling, glad of this new aspect. He glanced over at Wesley, then Eli, and saw them relax, grinning back. The doctor was shocked at their cavalier attitude, shaking his head as he turned to leave.

“Hey, doc? When can he be discharged?” asked Richard.

“I would like to run test on him, try to find out how, but I know you’ll not let me do that, so, he can leave now.”

“Thanks, doc.”

It was a few minutes after noon, when the tiltrotor came over the tarmac and set down. Everyone exited the craft, moving across the cold tarmac and up the steps of their waiting jet.

“How’s Liam?” exclaimed William as soon as Richard stepped into the cabin. Richard smiled at him, seeing the worry on his face, and stepped to one side to let him see Liam come on board behind him.

“Hey,” Liam greeted William, his tone soft, reassuring. William rushed down the narrow aisle past Richard, and hugged Liam. Everyone stopped, and waited while they watched William shaking with relief, his voice strained.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

When William released Liam, looking him up and down, he grew curious. “You’re healed already?”

“It would seem so.”

“Hey guys, if you’re done with the reunion, can the rest of us get on board. It’s cold as shit out here?” Jonathan called out from outside.

Everyone got on board, gear secured, and hatch closed. The plane radioed the tower they were ready for takeoff and taxied out to the runway. Within a minute, the engines spooled up, the jet thundered down the runway and lifted off. It flew out over the inlet and circled around heading south.

Richard checked his laptop for their itinerary and saw they would detour to Seattle. A quick glance at his watch he calculated they would be on the ground by five PM local time. Chester noted they would be arriving around six PM, just an hour behind them.

“Hey guys, we’re heading to Seattle for some down time. Chester is flying out to meet us.”

Eli looked up with a dejected expression.

“And he’s bringing Brandon,” said Richard, and saw an immediate change in Eli, smiling for the first time since their mission. “Even Elizabeth and Helen are with them,” he added, his expression showing the pleasure his wife would be with him soon.

Eli sat on the lounge chair in the corner suite, looking out over the water and parts of downtown. The sun was low in the western sky, its light cutting deep into the room through the tall windows. His duffel bag sat on the floor and his jacket tossed over the chair in the corner. He felt anxious, guilt still seething within about what happened in Alaska. He glanced at his watch and saw it was a quarter till seven and he wondered when Brandon would get there. Wesley and Quinton were down the hall and Richard, Liam and William one floor up. Jonathan and Reese was in another suite somewhere in the building, but he had not noticed which floor they had exited the elevator.

It was surreal, everything about his life, and at times he expected to wake up back in Chadron, in that narrow single top bunk, crowded in a room with both of his brothers. But he thought of those five years with the guys, the private schooling that opened his eyes to so much, things his parents would deny as real. He thought of Timothy, down in the town, the first boy he kissed, the first to hold his hand in public, who had taken him to the prom their senior year, he a stranger to most of the seniors and juniors. Then there was the past summer, the hiking trip into the mountains, just the guys. They hiked for a week, going down a section of the AT. But what seemed to be the most important event of his life was his first semester at the university where he met Brandon. Brandon was so different, a personality unlike his own in so many ways, and it was the differences that attracted him. The way Brandon viewed sex, willing to admit to anything that gave him pleasure. Their sex had been so simple for that first semester, but when they came back for Spring Semester, late one stormy night, Brandon confessed to his sexual proclivities, the things that really aroused him. And over the next few weeks, they explored them, causing him to find his own desires fulfilled in ways he didn’t understand. This defiance of what would be evil to his parents, things that became pleasure.

A soft knock to the door. Two slow raps that made Eli jump to his feet and rush to it. He didn’t bother to look first, swinging the door open. Brandon stood there, his satchel slung over one shoulder, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, with a black jacket. He smiled at Eli not with humor, but with worry.

“Hey, you okay?” Brandon whispered.

Tears filled Eli’s eyes and trickled down as he stood frozen in place. “No, not really,” whispered in a quivering voice.

Brandon moved to him, letting the satchel drop to the floor and hugged him, tight, rocking him back and forth. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Finally, in the room, door shut, Brandon sat on one end of the lounge chair with Eli laid back, head in his lap. He twirled fingers in the long blonde hair on top as Eli stared out the window. The room was silent, nothing making a sound.

“I don’t know where to start. There is so much…unbelievable most of it.”

“Before you lay here worried about how to start, how about I confess Chester has told me.”

“Told you what?”

“I assume everything. It was quite a flight out, sitting next to him as he told these tall tales. I didn’t believe half of it, thought the man had lost his mind.”

“But he did convince you?”

“Videos of Wesley flying and Liam doing that thing with his hands…Jesus, it was comic book shit. Chester hesitated to tell me about you. But in hindsight, I knew something was going on, something big. I mean, his house is fucking crazy, and the guys are just on the other side of the mountain. Fucking convenient, but then Chester tells me how there is a tunnel connecting them, and…and you live in both houses, which ever you want.”

“I know how it sounds. You saw where I grew up. Can you imagine leaving that and…”

“No. I can’t, but I understand why you kept it secret. I mean…fuck, if the news got a hold of one of those videos,” Brandon laughed.

“Chester did tell you.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact, and Brandon nodded his head.

“He told me. You can change an element’s state: solid to liquid, liquid to gas, and vise a versa.”

“Does this change anything?”

“Hell, yes,” Brandon replied, looking Eli in the eyes, “it means you will be my protector. And all this time I thought I was the strong one,” he chuckled at the idea of it.

“You’re not freaked out?”

“Well, yes. I talked to William and he told me how it had been with him.”

“That was a comedy of errors.”

“No shit. Can you imagine the look on William’s face when he catches Liam lighting up those hands?”

Eli looked at his watch, seeing it was nearly eight. “We need to head down soon.”

“I wonder what Chester has arranged for dinner?”

“All I know is we’re to have a private dining room so we can relax.”

“Eli?”

“Yes?”

“You want to tell me what happened in Alaska? I know about the guy getting killed and…well, if you want to talk.”

“Yes, but after dinner. Right now, I’m starving and ready for a little socializing with the guys.”

They had dinner at a small restaurant, where Chester reserved a private room. As food was served, they talked about the group, and their plans for the future. Preston and Brody the organizers with Wesley, Quinton, Liam and William part of the mission group, would be living in the house full time. Eli and Brandon would be at Duke, finishing up their degrees, while Jonathan, Reese and Robert would continue to live in the Arlington area. Although considering himself retired, Chester would be on the other side of the mountain, available for backup when Preston needed it.

John texted Robert to let him know their mission was officially complete, the second man recovered from the lake. Robert relayed it to the others, then leaned over to Chester, letting him know John was remaining as their liaison to the official agencies.

After dinner, everyone exhausted, they made their way out of the restaurant. Night settled over the city, the air heavy and cold. The hotel was only a few blocks away and they strolled along the sidewalks, each couple linked by arms or holding hands. They were quiet, letting the white noise of the city drown out their footsteps. They waited at the first intersection for the light to change, then crossed the street, unhurried as before.

They were halfway down the block, when a guy rushed out of a bar, stumbling into Quinton.

“Hey, watch it, man,” Quinton exclaimed as he pushed the guy back into an upright position. Richard looked at him, eyes wide, for he thought he recognized him. Blonde hair and facial features that were familiar. The others turned around to see what the commotion was all about. The drunken guy looked around until his eyes landed on Eli and he froze.

“Elijah?”

“Joshua?” Eli replied, suddenly realizing he was looking at his oldest brother.

“Elijah,” Joshua repeated while he rushed to Eli, bear hugging him. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Joshua,” Eli spoke sternly, pushing his brother to let him go, “what is going on with you? I thought you were doing mission work, but you’re…”

“Drunk? Elijah, I can’t do it. And when Adam told me what happened. It’s not right, Elijah, what dad and mom did. I’m sorry,” said Joshua, slurring his words.

“What are you going to do?”

Joshua laughed, hysterically, then settled down, looking at his youngest brother, “I have no fucking idea.”

Eli heard the sourness in the reply, how Joshua sounded so bitter. He looked at Brandon who nodded back. “Joshua, our hotel is just up the street. Come on back with us.”

“Okay, little brother,” Joshua mumbled.

They made their way back to the hotel and to their rooms. Chester and Elizabeth sat in the living area of the Presidential Suite, one last glass of wine before turning in. Robert and Helen lay in bed, looking out through the windows of the bay and city, snuggled up, savoring their being together. Down the hall, Jonathan and Reese were showering together, soapy hands roaming over the other’s body. In no time, they would be in bed, taking their passions further. Two floors down, in a Bay Suite, Wesley and Quinton were in the large tub, laid back, half asleep, just relaxing in the hot water. Wesley was never more fatigued than after flying at his fastest speed, and he had flown Liam to the medical clinic at a blinding pace.

Down the hall, in a corner suite, Liam and William were in bed, William on his back, legs around Liam’s waist. They moved in unison, bodies undulating with primitive desires, of sexual longings that drove Liam to push deeply into William. Hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm, he fucked William, pushing into his depths over and over. And as they fucked, lips touched each other and over bare skin. There were nips at shoulders or necks, the tug on earlobes and soft whispers, intimate, something shared only between the two of them.

Liam felt alive, body charged with energy and he increased his pace, piston cock inside William faster and faster, increasing his arousal. He rose on hands to allow full movements of his hips. A pull upward till nearly slipped free, then a shove inward, fast, hips smacking on upturned ass. His exertion increased until his body glistened wetly in the reflected light of the city, coming in through the windows. He moved slickly over William, every contact hot and wet. A hand moved up his chest, raking through sweat then rubbing hard nipples. He shuddered with the manipulation, the sense of touch seeming to be everywhere all at once. Below him, William had his eyes closed, head thrown back, moaning, and uttering soft pleadings for him to fuck harder.

On the floor below, in their own corner suite, Eli sat in a chair watching his brother snore softly on the lounge chair. There had been crazy mutterings that made no sense, then confessions about not believing what their father had taught them. Eli realized only Adam was the one faithful to their father’s mad teachings. Brandon came into the room, towel around his waist.

“He okay?”

“Yes.  And no. He really tried to do it, follow what our father taught us, even as he knew it wasn’t right.”

“He seems really upset about what happened.”

“That surprised me. I always thought Joshua was more faithful than Adam. The one that would be trying to become a preacher in some small town somewhere close to home.”

“It must have been tough, trying to figure it out on his own and faking it too.”

“I don’t know what to do for him?”

“Let’s get ready for bed and talk tomorrow. I’m sure Chester can help.”

Eli looked up, eyes tearing up, “You think so?”

“Eli? Seriously? You are not going to be the one to question his abilities?”

Eli smiled, then looked at his brother sleeping soundly.

“Eli, come shower with me,” Brandon whispered, then turned to head back to the shower.

Eli looked up in time to see Brandon slip the towel off before rounding the corner, revealing his nudity, and he smiled, wondering what his brother would say if he had seen it. He followed, coming into the bathroom, where he let Brandon remove his clothes. Then he moved into the shower with him. They soaped up each other’s body, raked hands over firm flesh, then over hardening cocks. Fingers probed between cheeks, touching tight openings. Eli knew how Brandon would touch him where he desired it, and more. He pushed Brandon against the wall, face against the cool tile, as he ran his hand upward between the firm cheeks of his ass. He felt them flex against his hand when he touched the tight opening, rubbed his finger over it, then bore through it. He piston a soapy finger inside Brandon, then squeezed two fingers into him, and finally three, stretching the tight opening until Brandon was begging to be fucked.

Eli penetrated Brandon, slowly, feeling the head of his cock squeeze through the tight ring. Brandon cried out, then begged him to go deeper, urging him to keep going, and he pushed every inch into the depths of Brandon’s hole, held him by the waist and began to fuck. He felt mentally exhausted, drained to the point he had questioned whether, or not he could continue. Then he saw Liam come out, almost healed and everything was alright again. Their world had returned to normalcy, or what they considered normal. Then he found his brother, broken in some way he didn’t’ know if he could fix, but he had to try. Through it all there was the guys, there supporting him, but none more than Brandon. He had feared Brandon leaving him when he found out the truth. But now, against his chest, feeling the warm body against his own, he didn’t know how he could have considered such a thought.

“Eli, show me. Show me how you can keep me in line,” Brandon pleaded, and the devious side was surfacing, coming out when Eli wondered if it was appropriate, but he felt it. A need to push boundaries and maybe Brandon understood that. He pulled back, cock so hard it bobbed up and down, and he pushed Brandon against the wall and gave him what he wanted. He smacked the left ass cheek, then the right one, over and over, until they glowed red and felt hot to the touch. He didn’t understand this contradiction of their sex, this play of roles that were in conflict with his character. He never wanted to hurt anything, but for Brandon, he mixed pleasure with pain, made it a part of their sex. And it aroused him, made him want it nearly as much as Brandon. He pressed his body against Brandon, his cock against the hot ass cheeks as his hands moved around the chest until he felt the metal bars through each nipple. He twisted them, tugged outward on each until he felt Brandon shudder with the pain of it. He nipped the back of his neck and twisted them again. He felt his frustrations and fears ebb away as he held Brandon tight. The quivering body in his arms, his for pleasure, for companionship, for love. His to return the same in equal measure.

“Tell me what you want,” Eli asked, his tone firm.

“I want you to fuck me,” Brandon replied, pushing back against Eli’s cock.

Eli moved with authority, worked his hips faster and faster until the sound of bodies smacking together echoed in the small bathroom. Brandon moaned, and grunted, and begged Eli to fuck him harder. Holding the narrow waist in a tight grip, Eli thrust into Brandon’s depths until his muscles burned with his exertion. He leaned against the hot body, hands moving upward until he could finger the metal bars, twisting and tugging them making Brandon shudder and push back on his cock. His fear, anger, slipped from him, poured out through their fuck, until all that was left was his need for Brandon.

Eli hugged him to his chest and thrust up into his body and came. Jamming cock into Brandon’s depths with each ejaculation until spent. Breathing heavily, he slipped free and stepped back, guiding Brandon to turn around. Cock angled up hard and leaking, Brandon was aroused, desperate for release.

“Please, Eli,” he begged, and Eli eased down on his knees and took Brandon in his mouth. He sucked, pumping his head back and forth, lips locked tight around the hard shaft. He kept it up until he felt Brandon swell thicker, flex in his mouth and fill it with cum.

Showered and dried off, Eli realized neither had brought anything to put on, each in a hurry to get in the shower. Towels around their waists, he expected to find Joshua asleep as they went out into the bedroom. But Joshua was sitting up, watching them return, smiling sheepishly.

“You guys are really noisy, did you know that?”

“You could hear us?” Eli replied, burning with embarrassment.

“OH, yeah. But relax little brother. I’m not saying anything. I don’t understand it, but who am I to judge. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can go back to sleep on that sofa out there,” said Joshua, staggering to his feet and leaving the room.

Brandon laughed, getting a stern look from Eli. “It’s not funny,” Eli whispered.

“Yeah, it kind of is.”

“No…it’s not,” Eli replied, trying to stay firm, but he began to laugh too.

“Let’s get ready for bed. I’m beat.”

“Me, too.”

Joshua woke to the sound of someone stirring in the bedroom and he moved silently to the door, almost afraid to look. He peered through the gap where the door stood partially open, seeing Brandon packing a suitcase. He knocked and eased his head inside.

“Is Eli up?”

“Oh, hey Joshua. Yes. He’s gone to talk to Chester before breakfast. We’re all gathering in about twenty minutes down in the restaurant. And you’re to come down too.”

“Really? Thanks. But can I ask you something?”

“Yes, but I might not be the one you want to ask.”

“Who are you guys? I mean…Eli is so…”

“Different?”

“Yes. But it is more than that.”

“You guys need to talk. And I know he feels that way.”

The door swung open and Eli appeared from the foyer of the room. “Joshua, good morning.”

“Good morning, Elijah.”

“I want to talk with you before breakfast. Can we walk?”

“Sure.”

The lobby was nearly empty, most guest heading to the restaurant or pulling suitcases out to waiting cars. Eli led Joshua to a corner of the room, away from everyone. He gestured for Joshua to sit, then followed suit.

“We’re flying back to DC, heading out after lunch.”

“Oh, so you’re leaving already.”

“Joshua, what are you going to do?”

Joshua shrugged his shoulders.

“That is…you can’t just hang out here expecting anything to change.”

“I know.”

“I talked with Chester. He is the man who took me in, when our parents didn’t want me. And he has some contacts, people that can help. If you want to try to start over, you can come with us. We’ll set you up in Richmond, in a nice apartment and if you will tell us what kind of jobs you can do, or think you can do, we’ll get you employed somewhere.”

“Seriously? Just like that. You can get me an apartment and a job. No sweat.”

Eli knew how it must sound to him, but he nodded his head.

“Why Richmond?”

“Home for me is in the mountains, and Richmond is about as close as Arlington or DC, and we think Richmond will be easier for you to adjust to.”

“I can’t live with you?”

“No.”

“Is it because you live with Brandon?”

“No. Brandon and I live together at the university, but his parents are in Baltimore, so, we’re not living together…yet,” Eli replied, smiling at the idea of life after college.

“You’re attending college?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” Joshua uttered. “What do I have to do for this?”

“Nothing but show me you can get yourself together. And get your things packed this morning, for we are heading out after lunch.”

“Just like that? I just say yes, and I’m on a plane flying back east. Fuck.”

“Joshua, come with us. This is not a life for you. You’re miserable,” said Eli, his tone pleading.

“What do I have to lose, little brother?”

“Nothing…everything if you don’t try.”

“Okay. But we have to let mom know.”

“Chester is waiting to hear your reply and he’ll take care of it. She’ll know before the end of the day.”

“You won’t call her for me?”

“Oh, no. She does not want to hear from me.”

“You’re wrong about that, but I get it.”

Eli looked up to see some of the group heading to the restaurant, Chester and Elizabeth among them, and when Chester and he looked at each other, he nodded yes. Chester smiled, nodded back ever so slightly. “Okay, it’s done; let’s go eat.”

“What? Wait up,” Joshua replied, jumping up to follow.

It was after two when they finally made it to the airport. The two Suburbans carried them around to the executive area, where the familiar dark bronze Gulf Stream sat parked, and next to it another one, one newer, painted a dark blue across the top, white on bottom.

“Chester, is that a new plane?” Eli asked as they pulled up.

“Yes. One isn’t enough and I acquired this one a couple of months ago. A G700, their newest jet. Why don’t Joshua, Brandon and you join us on it, and we can talk.”

“Okay, Chester,” Eli replied, realizing he wasn’t surprised. He looked around to see Joshua was more than surprised. He looked in shock.

“We’re flying in private jets?” Joshua whispered.

“Yes.”

“Eli?”

“Yes?”

“That dark one, the one on the left. Did you fly to Chadron in it when you went to see mom and dad?”

“Yes, why?”

“Jesus. She saw it come in and then leave, and worked out how it appeared, then you showed up, then you left and it reappeared heading back. She thought she was losing it.”

“Joshua, don’t tell her. About none of this. You have to promise me.”

“I do, for I don’t know how I’d explain it if I did.”

The jets taxied to the runway, first the 650ER, then the G700, each pulling out, spooling up the engines, then accelerating down the runway. They lifted off cleanly and soon they were in formation, a couple of miles apart, both heading east.

Over the next few weeks, the guys would settle back into their routines. The training sessions with Reese, the weekends together at one of the mountain houses, and Eli and Brandon back at the university working toward their degrees.

Joshua found himself in Richmond, a job with a mechanic, getting his hands dirty repairing cars. He had suggested the job, thinking there was no way, but a week later, he was interviewing, then starting with a probation period. He didn’t understand it, how his brother managed it, but he knew, deep down, without asking, it had something to do with that ability they never discussed. And he sensed Eli wasn’t the only one. But he had his own life to live, one he was slowly putting together, feeling as if he had never had the chance before. His next goal was personal, one Eli could not help him accomplish. She lived downstairs from him and worked as a kindergarten teacher. And she was nice to him, speaking whenever they met. He planned to invite her up for dinner, maybe some time during the week when they got home from their jobs. It would feel casual and allow him to get to know her before confessing how he wanted to ask her out.

Paradise

Preston and Brody arrived around noon, opening up the house that had been home for a few years. Preston had refused to sell it when they sold the one Wesley and Quinton had lived in. He wanted it for a retreat, a place just for Brody and him. Familiar faces ran up to them, welcoming them back. They changed clothes, slipping on shorts and light linen tops, Brody in a shirt left unbuttoned and he in a tank top. They walked down to Marie’s finding it set up as Preston previously arranged. A large tent next to the canopy structure and enough tables and chairs for the whole village and tourists there to surf in the ocean. There was a feast, one Marie oversaw, making sure everything was perfect. Ice cold beer and mixed drinks flowed freely as they gathered for a late lunch. They talked of their lives since parting, and their friends joked about some of their past antics when they were a part of the community. Then Preston told stories, much like his grandfather, of adventures in the states, living near Chester, and hiking in mountains, the guys getting into trouble with their antics, leaving out a lot of details, but keeping the village entertained for a long time, until the food was gone, and everyone had had enough drink.

Preston and Brody walked the streets, then went back to the beach as the sun hovered over the western horizon. It was brilliant in its yellows and oranges, casting long shadows over the land. Preston led Brody down the beach, shoes in hand, letting the water lap at their feet as they reminisced about their time in the village. The sun slipped from view and the sky changed again, one last show of brilliance before darkness settled over the land and water. There were reds, oranges, violets, and purples, blending and mixing together, and the light made their skin glow, softening their features. Taking a deep breath, Preston moved in front of Brody. He took each hand and looked him in the eye, visibly nervous.

“Brody, you know I don’t think I would have survived everything if not for you?”

“Preston, don’t, I know, and it is the same for me. I was on the street, remember?”

“I remember. I think of it, all the crazy times together, all the time. Big events and small details that I’m scared I’ll forget one day. But I want you to know how important you are to me,” said Preston, his voice quivering like never before. He moved to his knees, holding out a small jewelry box. Brody gasped, and began to shake.

“Preston,” Brody whispered, “what is this?”

Preston opened the box, revealing a ring inside. It appeared to be a simple band at first, then Brody saw the diamonds that lined its length, each fitted perfectly in its width. “Will you marry me?”

Brody felt tears pool in his eyes as he struggled to find his voice. He eased down in front of Preston and leaned forward to kiss him. Then he looked at Preston, older, more mature, but he saw in the eyes that mischievous boy that lured him to Mexico.

“Yes.”