The Little Engine That Could
** The Previous Evening **
I hate getting home late. Taking a four-day weekend was wonderful and I loved every moment with Ollie - barring the bad news I had to deliver. Even then, in true Ollie fashion, he picked himself right back up and started rebuilding his life, never letting his father’s torments keep him down. I love my boy. But, after all of last week’s unexpected time off, this week had been hectic. I was looking forward to a quiet weekend with Chris, hopefully with a little fun husband time included.
Happy to be home, I pulled into our garage and parked beside Chris’s X5. Before I could help it, my eyes drifted to the empty spot where Ollie’s Bronco used to sit. I felt a pang of melancholy, but I didn’t have too much time to dwell on it - Chris came bounding out to meet me, wearing a grin so big it completely obliterated the memory of my busy week.
“Hey, Sweet-Sweet! What’s got you all excited?” I asked, stepping out and melting in to his enthusiastic hug. “Have you heard anything from the boys?”
After stepping back, Chris gave me an animated look and replied, “Yeah, Corey just texted. They’ve finally checked into the Hyatt in St. Louis and are about to shower and grab some dinner.” He gave me a deep welcome-home kiss, then lowered his voice slightly with excitement. “But that’s not why I’m excited! We got some big news from the attorneys. Come on in and I’ll explain.”
I swear, like father like son. I followed my excited, fifty-year-old high school “boy” into the kitchen, where he was already cooking a dinner that smelled as incredible as his mood. I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Okay, Christopher, spill! What’s the news?”
Chris flashed a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with a knowing spark. “So, I’m pretty sure Ollie won’t be losing his Bronco…” He proceeded to outline everything the attorneys had discovered.
I was stunned - and apparently, there was more. Chris, ever the showman, presented the facts in a staged, almost theatrical manner that kept me on the edge of my seat. “It’s not a slam dunk yet. There’s one huge ‘if’ we need to clarify. I refuse to get Ollie’s hopes up just to crush them again, so I haven’t told the boys anything yet.”
Before Chris could continue, I snickered and added, “You know, Ollie gave me a stern talking-to about us keeping secret plans from him. He insists he’s a big boy now.”
Only moderately deterred, Chris offered a good-natured shrug. “Alright, alright. I promise this will be the last - and most important - time. And I’ll take the blame if Ollie’s upset. Though, honestly, I doubt he will be.” He leaned in, picking up his earlier momentum. “So, I think the best way to resolve that ‘if’ is for us to fly to Detroit tomorrow, drive to Lansing, and get to know a couple of very important people…”
He then revealed he’d emptied our Rapid Rewards account to get us tickets on Southwest to DTW tomorrow mid-morning. In typical Chris fashion, my detail-oriented man had made reservations for us in a cute boutique hotel in Ann Arbor, for Saturday and Sunday nights. He even went as far to reserve a room for Ollie and Corey on Sunday.
“You know they already have plane tickets back here for Sunday evening,” I pointed out, giving my love a mildly judgmental smirk. “If you’re really that confident this will work out, maybe you should tell Ollie and Corey now.”
Chris brushed the suggestion aside with a confident grin. “Are you kidding? Ollie’s birthday’s in two weeks. First, I refuse to get him all excited only to be hurt again. And second, if this goes like I think it will, it’ll be the best birthday surprise we could ever give him.”
My man was on a mission. He had another son - if only honorary - to protect and make happy. That’s what my love does. All I could do was sit back and enjoy the latest scene of my beautiful man’s amazing performance.
****
The hopeful news along with Chris’s unbridled excitement were downright infectious. Fine, so I’d lost my chill recovery weekend with my husband - but right now, I knew I was about to get some serious husband time. He’d been grabbing my butt every chance he got while we cleared the table. Finally, as I had to squat down to load the dishwasher, he eased up behind me. With a mischievous grin, he made me set the dishes aside and lifted my shirt off over my head as I rose up into his arms.
“Teddy Bear, you know what your pecs, lats, deltoids, triceps, and biceps do to me,” he murmured seductively. Between lingering kisses - each one landing on the muscle group he’d just named. “Remember when I used to beg you to cook and clean shirtless? Pretending to be my hot, naked chef and muscle-bound house boy?” He chuckled softly, pressing himself closer. “I think it’s time to reinstate that old tradition. Besides, Corey’s not here to roll his eyes and barricade himself in his room to avoid our ‘mushy stuff.’” To emphasize his point, he kissed his way up my neck, lifting my arm to sample my pit from behind.
A delicious shiver ran down my spine, even as reality barged in. “Careful there, big guy, you know I have to wear deodorant during the week.”
“Damn, what a waste,” Chris sighed, switching tactics to nibble my ear instead. “I wonder if Corey inherited my love of a manly pit…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You should’ve been there when I brought them that Whataburger breakfast. Our Corey was practically drooling when Ollie stretched and presented his cute curly blond pits as he was waking up. I honestly thought Corey might pounce on our poor Ollie right there in front of me.”
Chris shot me a crooked, satisfied grin. “Good to know. And here’s something else good to know: I never wear deodorant on Fridays, just to make sure I’m ready for the weekend.” I decided to return the favor by lifting his shirt over his head. One long, deep breath of my man’s natural musk, and I already knew I’d be ditching deodorant on Fridays as well.
We may or may not have finished loading the dishwasher before giving in to the moment, leaving a trail of pants, shoes, socks, and finally two pairs of tighty-whities behind us as we headed for our bedroom.
****
We tumbled to the bed and rotated until we were in a 69 position with me on top. I can do that with my standard sized 5.75” dick without worrying about suffocating my mate. I also couldn’t help but give a little self-aware chuckle; only guys with dicks below 6” know their size to the second decimal. But tonight, it’s not about size, it’s about that little engine who could, pushing the train up that hill. And tonight, my little engine was ready to make a trip into Chris’ tight train tunnel.
I telegraphed my intent by motioning Chris to raise his knees up so that I could lock them under my arms. And there it was, his musky, earthy, furry trench, perfectly presented to my salivating mouth, lips, and tongue. I dove in for my second feast of the night. The aroma was every bit as intoxicating as the first meal he had prepared me for the night.
Chris lowered his head and mouth away from my cock to deliver a low growl, “Damn Teddy Bear! I need to surprise you with a weekend trip to Detroit more often.” Taking advantage of the comical moment, I pressed my face deep into his furriness so the vibrations of my chuckle could be translated into new moans from him.
Satisfied with my efforts so far, it was time. I rose up from my man, but not before giving him an upside down, Chris-musk flavored kiss. Then I started my kneel-walk across the bed to retrieve the lube from the nightstand. Chris stopped me, “You’ve already gotten me ready Teddy, just go slow.” That significantly upped my heart rate, I swear I could see the beats pulse through my erection. I was nineteen-year-old hard, and I saw that Chris’ giant pipe was already leaking over his belly button.
I made my course correction to shuffle around behind his still raised knees and quickly put them on my boulder shoulders. I spat on my little engine and watched him slowly do his disappearing act into my lover’s quivering tunnel. Chris took it like a champ - the joys of having a party-sized dick.
I love having Chris inside me. I love being a bottom. But still, there’s no denying the warm feeling of being inside your lover. Knowing that you can make him feel every bit as satisfied and fulfilled as he does you. As I started thrusting into him, I saw his eyes roll back and I knew I was giving him exactly what he needed; exactly what I usually needed from him. It was heady; it was the connection we didn’t make as often as we should.
All too soon, I was all too close. I went in as deep as I could and leaned over his torso. My lips couldn’t make it up to his without leaving his hole, so I settled on nibbling a nip instead. I rose up, “Baby, I know I wanted to start out on top tonight, and I think you’re enjoying it too, but I’m in a selfish mood.” And I gave him my most lusty grin.
He immediately understood and his own big grin told me he thought it was the perfect idea. I gently pulled out of his tunnel and made my way over to really get the lube this time. Chris assumed a sitting position against our headboard. This was happening! I frantically got as much lube in my hole as I could and then made sure his massive cock was equally well coated.
I straddled his lap, facing him. Slowly impaling myself on his girthy ass-destroyer. My heightened desire and our joint fever, made his entry as easy as it ever could be. I let his kisses and embrace sooth me through the uncomfortable adjustment period.
It was all so good; I almost didn’t want to start our final act. I just wanted to sit here locked and bonded to my love. I knew at this point our fun would be over all too soon. But I still found myself leaning back on my arms, positioning my body so that his cock would give my prostate maximum stimulation. He bowed his head and was easily able to reach my cock with his mouth. We’d accidently discovered this position while making love in the car’s back seat during a spontaneous intimate moment on a family vacation.
I started flexing my glutes, causing my stretched hole to work its way up and down his leaking cock while also fucking my little guy into his mouth. It really is a selfish position. I get my hole, butt-nut, and cock pleasured while letting Chris do most of the work. Well, I guess my bouncing counted for something. And as I feared, all that prostate mashing and tongue swirling rapidly took me over the top. I shot my after dinner treat into Chris’ warm mouth. He eagerly swallowed it down.
Now it was his turn. His obligation fulfilled; he focused on his own pleasure, thrusting up into my still hungry hole with a new determination. God! I swore he was going to make me immediately cum again. My eyes were imitating his and rolling up into my head. I heard his low growling moans and felt a sudden deep thrust, and I knew he was delivering his payload. I looked down to realize that his effort may not have given me a second orgasm, but it had definitely added a stream of pre (wait! post?) cum to the fur on his tummy.
We finally collapsed into each other’s arms, excited about our impromptu weekend voyage and the future it could hopefully give our Ollie.
Chapter 37: Lane Changes
** Saturday Afternoon **
I loved driving Ollie’s Bronco - so much so that I was already thinking we could start saving up to get a new one for him. I wasn’t about to share that thought just yet, not until I had a solid plan. As we crossed east over the muddy Mississippi and I shuddered at the murky water below, Ollie hit me with the most non sequitur question I’d heard from him.
“So, do you think Chris is maybe bisexual?”
I nearly choked on a surprised laugh. “Ollie! Where’d that come from? I’m pretty sure he’s as gay as we are.”
“Yeah, but, um, you’re here and he was married for, well, I have no idea how long he was married to your mom. She is real? Right?” Ollie looked at me with a mischievous Rainer Family Smirk that he’d clearly perfected by now.
I couldn’t help grinning back. “Yeah, pup, she’s real, and yes, Dad was married. I hate to say it, but their marriage was a mistake.” Ollie’s earnestly inquisitive look told me he was after a lot more detail.
I softened my voice, taking on a more serious look. “So… is this my baby gay asking his more practiced gay lover for some insight?” I reached over and ruffled his neat curls, taking his nod as the go-ahead to explain.
“I think it goes something like this: everyone’s heard of the Kinsey Sexuality Scale.” I glanced over and saw Ollie’s blank look, so I elaborated.
“Kinsey was a ‘sexologist’ who did most of his groundbreaking research at Indiana University back in the ’40s and ’50s. He proposed that sexuality wasn’t strictly binary - it’s more like a spectrum. His scale runs from 0 to 6. but, people say that being a total 0 - completely straight - or a total 6 - completely gay - almost never happens without some psychological quirks involved.”
I caught Ollie’s curious expression and pressed on, “So most straight people fall around a 1, meaning dads can love their sons, show affection, and have close male friendships without it being sexual. And most gays hover around a 5, still able to love and care for their mothers, sisters, and female friends in a non-romantic way.”
“Personally, I’m a total 5. I’m pretty sure you are as well,” I said, smiling at my pup. “I’ve never been with a girl, or even wanted to be. The moment I realized how much fun having a dick was - and that all my boy friends had the same cool toy - I knew that’s where I wanted to give all my attention. Sure, most boys go through a curiosity phase, but by the time puberty finished and I realized how much pits and hairy chests drove me wild, I knew it wasn’t just a phase for me, I was in it for life”
I smirked, “Here’s another term: I’m a ‘Gold Star’ gay. Never even made out with a girl.” I saw Ollie simply nod. “But believe it or not, both Dad and Ted probably fall closer to 4’s. They’ve dated - and in Dad’s case, even married - a woman. Still, I don’t think they’re anywhere near being truly bisexual. They prefer men; they’re absolutely in love with each other.”
I took a moment to organize my thoughts. “This is just my take - it’s nothing scientific. The Kinsey scale measures something innate, like being left or right-handed. It’s something that neither your brain or personality can change. But I believe there’s another scale on top of that at play: rating how you show yourself. Maybe a better way to put it is, it’s about how you ‘present’ your orientation to the world.”
Ollie gave me a puzzled look. “Present as in acting straight or gay?”
“Not just that,” I explained, “it’s something deeper. You might be a 1 on the scale, but love things people stereotype as ‘gay.’ You might be totally straight, yet have no problem hugging or even kissing your male friends, showing affection without any hang-ups. And that’s awesome - it means you’re just a well-adjusted guy comfortable with expressing love.”
I paused for a breath, then continued more seriously. “But there’s an equivalent darker side. Someone who’s a 4 or 5 might struggle to accept what their brain is telling them - that they love men. They can’t handle it, so they try to ‘present’ as straight, often ridiculing openly gay people. They’re what we usually call homophobes or ‘closet-cases.’”
“Neither Dad nor Ted are remotely like that,” I assured him, “but they’re old enough to have felt pressure to live a straight life. Not like back in the ’50s or anything, but still, there was encouragement to meet the right girl, fall in love, and, well, have me.” I winked at my pup. “They were just close enough to the middle of the spectrum to make it happen for a while.”
I glanced over and noticed Ollie looked a bit dazed by my info dump. I gave him a moment to let it all sink in. When he caught my inquisitive look to continue, his returned expression made it obvious that my lecture had gotten way too serious. With a clever grin, he decided to lighten the mood. “So, my wolf, I’ll agree I’m a 5. But what do you think I present as?”
My inner monologue wrote admiringly: Nice, pup! You always amaze me. I gave him a smile I hoped he’d interpret as both impressed and loving. “Great question, my pup! And, forgive me for keeping our little role-play alive, but… I think you present as, well, a pup.” I delivered it with my best interpretation of the Rainer Family Smirk.
Ollie giggled, but I could tell he was maybe a bit - what, offended? Slighted? So, I hurried on, “What I mean is, you’re the best - like a puppy. A dog doesn’t care if someone’s a boy or a girl; they just love. If you give them affection, they give it right back. Ollie, when I look at you, I don’t think about the terms gay or straight, I just see the most loving, caring man I’ve ever met.”
Thankfully, that did the trick. His eyes flashed with emotion, and before I knew it, I was fending off an Ollie hug attack. I just tried to keep the Bronco in its lane while my pup showered me with affection.
****
After a few miles of shared, comfortable silence amid the beautiful green Illinois countryside, Ollie took a contemplative breath and picked up where we’d left off. “So, that’s all cool - I like presenting as a pup - but I guess I should’ve been more, sorry - straight - forward from the start.” He gave me a sincere look, placing his hand on my knee. “Corey, can you tell me more about your mother?”
I offered a gentle smile, finally realizing what he’d been aiming at. “Oh, Ollie, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that you wanted to head in that direction. My mother, Elisabeth, is a wonderful woman. She and Dad stayed married until I was in first grade. They made sure my early childhood was happy and, well, pretty ‘normal.’” I paused, not wanting to take him down another rabbit hole. “What exactly are you wanting to know?”
Ollie kissed my hand, his voice quiet but curious. “That’s awesome. I was mostly wondering what led to their divorce, and, well… where is she now?”
“Honestly, it wasn’t any one thing. They both finally realized they needed to move on with their own lives, and everyone agreed I’d be fine staying with Dad. I was always a daddy’s boy anyway. Mom moved to San Antonio and married a genuinely straight guy.” I caught Ollie’s curious look and raised my eyebrow. “Yep, that’s right, pup - I’ve got a step-father. No half-siblings, though. I guess I satisfied mom’s need to be, well, a ‘mom.’”
“I spent spring breaks and a few summer weeks with them every year, at least until I found my own circle of friends in junior high and high school. I still love her very much, and her husband Ben has always been wonderful to me. But I never thought of him as a father figure. Not even Captain Alex felt like a ‘dad.’ It took meeting ‘Uncle Ted’ before I bonded with a new parent figure.”
Ollie seemed satisfied with my answer, so now it was my turn. “Quid pro quo, pup. I don’t need to know too much about your father, but what about your mother?” I noticed Ollie hesitating, so I offered more clarity. “I mean, you’ve told me about your last night in their house, but what kind of person do you think she is?”
My little, okay big, pup took a thoughtful pause before answering. His reply, after all his earlier insight, felt surprisingly simple. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He gave me a sheepish look. “I mean I know my mother, but she always felt like two different people. One when it was just me and her, and an entirely different person when it was the three of us. I even kinda felt guilty that Father always dominated my attention whenever he was around, like mom wasn’t really significant.”
I decided to stop tiptoeing around my core question. “I get it. Your father’s presence overshadowed your relationship with her a lot. But I have to ask: Ollie, what did your mother do when Richard slapped you to the floor and kicked you out of the house?”
My blunt question made Ollie blush and hesitate, and I instantly regretted putting him on the spot. Still, I needed to know. He took a slow deep breath, trying to gather himself. “Honestly, Corey, I haven’t thought much about that night at all. I still don’t think my brain wants to. Even now, I’m not sure how to piece it together for you. I apologize, I know I over-simplified the story before, and maybe I’m still not ready to say everything.”
I caught his soulful gaze, but I still silently urged him to continue. “I love my mom,” he managed, his voice trembling, “but I feel guilty. I don’t think I ever gave her the attention she deserved. For some reason, my father always seemed to demand everything I could give, and I was willing to let him take it all.” He looked close to tears, and I couldn’t let him go there.
“Ollie, my love, it’s okay,” I said softly. “Your father sounds like a master manipulator. You didn’t do anything wrong; you were just doing what your parents taught you to do.” I held his eyes, hoping to steer him away from drowning in regret. “Let’s get back to the question…” I offered a supportive look, silently urging him to focus on what happened that night.
“So, I remember telling them I was gay,” Ollie began quietly. “I think mom looked a little shocked, but not disgusted. Upset, sure, but not mad. Then my father made her leave.” I watched as Ollie’s eyes flickered with a sort of distant understanding at the memory. “Yeah, mom left, just like she did when I told them I didn’t believe in their religion. She stepped aside and let Father ‘handle’ it.”
I saw my Ollie’s expression darken. “But unlike that time, as soon as I tried to explain myself, that’s when he backhanded me. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor with a bloody nose. I honestly don’t remember much after that. But yeah, maybe I should’ve thought more about my mom. I’m sorry.”
“Ollie,” I said softly, “you’re slipping back into old habits, apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong. You were the abandoned pup, just for being who you are. That’s why I love you so much; my pup who presents as a pup - you simply want to love and be loved.”
Taking a daring chance, I leaned over and kissed my man. He responded passionately, then quickly shot out a hand to help steady the wheel. “Corey,” he chuckled, “I love you too, but we need to return my Bronco on Sunday - preferably undamaged.”
Chapter 38: The Batchelor Life
Aside from my beloved man-boy trying to steer us off the road with a kiss - a dangerously sweet move we thankfully survived - today felt way heavier than yesterday. Despite all of Corey’s meticulous planning, the mood had shifted. It was as if the freeway itself had turned into a ticking timeline, each mile marking our approach toward something we couldn’t avoid.
No silly song lyrics this time, no surprise football tosses. Instead, we found ourselves discussing deeper things: our sexuality, the roles our mothers had played in our lives, and the surprising admission that before meeting me, Corey had already resigned himself to a lifetime of bachelorhood.
It came up as we talked about dating. Of course I’d never really experienced it, but Corey had a long, frustrating track record. Plenty of guys were drawn to his looks, his height, or his success, but never just him as a person. And if someone did love him for the right reasons, it often backfired. His looks and outgoing nature made them paranoid, convinced he’d eventually cheat when he found someone “better.”
He recalled thinking he’d finally found “the one,” only for the guy to eventually insist, “You’re too good-looking. You’ll never be happy with just me. I know you’ll cheat.” Every past relationship seemed doomed by someone else’s insecurities or superficial focus.
After hearing his horror stories, I was grateful that I’d somehow stumbled onto my true love without even realizing I was looking. We’d skipped all the exhausting guesswork, found each other, and learned to trust each other from the start.
****
As we ventured deep into Indy, I was again enthralled and eager to explore another exciting downtown. After checking in to the hotel and confirming that yes, we really did have floor to ceiling views of Monument Circle from our 15th floor room, I showered my wolf with another flurry of sincere “wows.” After that, exploring is exactly what we started to do. It was just at 4:30 when we left the hotel to venture out.
“Okay pup, our dinner reservation is at 7:00 tonight. I believe St. Elmo’s is about two blocks that way,” as he pointed over my shoulder. “And, according to my trusty Google Maps, there’s also a Banana Republic somewhere around here. Serious question: Did you leave any room in your suitcase for a new shirt or two? I say we go shopping for tonight.”
I still wasn’t eager to spend money unnecessarily and I knew Corey had spent a lot on our hotels already. “Corey, I’m really fine with the shirts you got me at North Park back in Dallas.”
“Ollie, let’s have fun. We don’t have to get matching outfits for tonight, I don’t think we’re that kind of couple, but let’s at least each get a new shirt that complements the other. Something that makes us look like we’re a couple.
To my surprise, we succeeded, with minimal arguing. We found the same shirt with different, yet complementary, colors. That both still managed to match our sport coats. I had to admit, shopping can be fun, and we’re going to look great tonight.
We didn’t walk straight back to the hotel, but took the time to explore our new city for the night. People may joke and refer to it as “Naptown” and “India-no-place,” but I already loved Indy as much as St. Louis. And that’s even before a hoped-for new round of hotel room fun.
****
After showering, primping, preening, and dressing in our new shirts. We donned our jackets and casually made our way to the restaurant. I was back in my new happy place, holding my man’s hand while wandering through a brightly lit magical downtown. Gawking at the sights as he led us to our dinner reservation.
Walking into St. Elmo’s, I braced for “fancy,” but discovered something else: “legit” felt more fitting. This place had gravitas or at least an old soul. You could sense that big moments had played out here over the years.
We were shown to a two-person table in the middle of a long narrow brick-walled dining room. I fell in love with the place instantly - perfect for another special night with Corey. Speaking of, I’d seen my man in so many moods: upset, excited, goofy, sexy, caring, horny, and protective. But tonight, he seemed… different. Not exactly lacking confidence, but maybe just being a bit unsure of himself?
I decided not to dwell on it, especially since Corey had clearly known what this place had to offer, both in ambiance and with its menu. That explained our light lunch; I was starving now, and an old school steakhouse meal sounded perfect. As we ordered, Corey’s confidence flickered back into place, though he channeled some of it into playful teasing at my expense. We both created our own version of surf and turf: I chose a 12-ounce fillet with a lobster tail, while Corey went for the bone-in fillet with king crab legs.
I probably shouldn’t have mentioned my fear of bones in my food. Don’t get me wrong, I know exactly where steak, chicken, and pork come from, but the moment I see a bone on my plate, my appetite bolts out the nearest exit. Corey almost - just barely - started to give me a hard time about it, until I casually suggested a late-night dip in the murky White River that flows through downtown Indy. That shut him right up, and we both dissolved into a fit of laughter.
We made our way through appetizers, salads, and finally our entrées, each bite more incredible than the last. I loved being with Corey like this - no walls between us, no worries, just the two of us enjoying a perfect evening. The more time we spent together, the more I learned his quirks, strengths, phobias, and passions, the deeper I fell in love. Somehow, once again, he’d made me forget the weight of tomorrow’s meeting. I couldn’t wait to get back to our room and find out what new wonders awaited us there.
Chapter 39: Course Corrections
My pup, my love, my Ollie - I couldn’t believe how perfect this evening felt. It was now or never; I knew I could do this. I’d set everything up just right, even arranged for him to have a flute of champagne if he said “yes.” But first, I needed to lead him down a slightly different path. I wanted to playfully fake out his defensive line. I had a pre-proposal planned, something that was honestly more important than anything else until we could actually set a date. As we waited for our desserts, I began my speech.
“Ollie, I don’t know how much Dad told you, but I completely fell apart the morning you disappeared. It’s embarrassing to even think about. When you were almost taken into custody and ended up in the hospital,” I took his hand across the table, determined to keep my voice steady, “even my old friend almost wouldn’t let me and Dad see you. We weren’t legally your family, and for the first time in my life, I think I considered doing something violent.” I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought.
Steeling myself, I stood from my chair and knelt before him, my heart pounding in my ears. Ollie’s eyes went wide, like saucers - whether it was excitement or fear, I couldn’t tell. But I had come this far, and I had to see it through.
** Ollie’s Perspective **
Oh my fraking lurd! It had all been there, right in front of my face for weeks. Come on, Ollie, you’re not an idiot! Chris practically told you to expect something big from your Norse God protector. Corey hinted at it himself - from whispering over your sleepy head that after this trip he’d never have to worry about losing you again, to mentioning we only needed a special occasion to visit St. John again. Oliver, you’re smarter than this!
I love him - God, I love this man with everything I have. Do I want to spend the rest of my life with him? Abso-freaking-lutely! Yes! But do I want him to propose to me right here, right now, on the eve of what’s likely be the worst day of my life? Please, my Norse God, no. I don’t want the happiest, most important event of my life to be even remotely tainted by tomorrow’s looming disaster.
I know my Corey. He’s strong and loving, a brilliant man and nurse, but maybe his inner high school boy logic was getting the best of him tonight. Still, I won’t disappoint him, or worse yet, embarrass him. No matter what, I’ll say “yes” and hope for the best.
** Back to Corey **
While my love seemed to be torn between emotions, I decided it was time for my “fake-out.” Reaching into my coat pocket, to retrieve my carefully prepared envelope, I continued, “My love, I never want to feel that powerless again, unable to protect you. And if our roles were reversed, I know you’d feel the same.”
I retrieved and then held out the thick packet to my boy, who promptly abandoned the struggle of choosing an appropriate emotion and slipped back into his adorable deer-in-the-headlights look. “Ollie, my love, will you accept these legal documents as a sign of my love and dedication?”
Apparently, we’d drawn the attention of most nearby diners, who offered polite chuckles and even some applause. Ollie’s face finally knew what emotion to choose and was absolutely radiant with love and amazement. He said “yes” before I could blink, and the crowd applauded in earnest. He leaned in, giving me a perfect kiss as the room cheered a bit louder.
Settling back into my seat, I began the explanation I’d rehearsed. “Ollie, my turn to apologize. I know this might not seem as romantic as I’d hoped, but these documents will help us defend and protect each other. They will even shield you from any future nonsense your father might try.” I caught his puppy-dog, hero-worshipping gaze and I felt encouraged to continue.
“Before you get too happy,” I said gently, “some of these documents are a bit heavy. But believe me, I mean every word you’re about to hear.” I returned to my seat as Ollie began unfolding the papers, his curiosity palpable.
I watched him scan the pages. “The first three are the ones we’ll likely use the most,” I explained. “There’s a medical power of attorney and a HIPAA authorization form.” I caught Ollie’s blank look and winked. “I know, I know - just believe me, medical red tape is my love language.”
I tapped the pages. “This first document ensures hospital staff must treat us like family. They can’t keep us apart if one of us is hospitalized. The second lets our doctors share information about us without hassle. Think of it this way: I won’t need to physically be in the room and ask Dr. Foster to, um, help you get an embarrassing hardon again.”
Ollie’s face turned red, but his laughter was genuine. I grinned and continued, “And the durable power of attorney works the same way for our finances. More importantly, it means I have the power to protect your finances from your father. Ollie… And as for me, well, I’m giving you an equal share in my life.”
That did it. I hadn’t intended to make my pup cry, but seeing those happy tears shimmer in my cherished Ollie’s eyes was worth everything. “You okay, pup?” I asked softly.
“Corey, this is amazing,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe you thought of all this. And I can’t tell you how much it means to me on the night before I have to give up my Bronco and face my father.” As always, his face was an open book and if anything, his words were the abridged edition of his feelings.
“Okay, pup, the final documents are the big ones. You ready?” Ollie’s eyes dazzled with anticipation. “So, the next one is important, but definitely a buzzkill. Pup, we’ll never need it for decades and decades, but it’s just how things work in this country.” I met his gaze steadily. “It’s a living will. It lets us make the hardest choices for each other if we ever face the unthinkable.” His smile never faded, and I felt relieved he understood.
“And finally,” I began, my voice wavering slightly, “here’s the real biggie. Ollie, I love you. I will never stop loving you, never stop protecting you - even if the worst should ever happen.” My eyes misted over. “This is my will. I’m making you my primary beneficiary. Dad and Ted have already agreed.”
I knew my beautiful, tender, loving boy wouldn’t make it through that without tears. He left his chair and fell into my arms, and we hugged so deeply that nothing in the world could tear us apart. I couldn’t help feeling a bit proud of my little ‘fake-out’ strategy, knowing I’d just given him something truly important and unforgettable.
** Ollie’s Perspective **
I should have never doubted my man, he was absolutely brilliant, and his grand gesture was perfectly timed. Presenting those legal documents, geeky as they were, gave me exactly what I needed to feel more secure about facing my father tomorrow. They felt like a big, comforting security blanket against my father’s intimidation. Sure, we’d lose my Bronco, but that would be the last thing my father ever took from me. Damn!, Er, Dang, my Corey is amazing.
Well, at least he was - until he pushed further. “I love you, Oliver Aaron Carson. But I couldn’t help noticing your face when I started this whole legal-document proposal. Were you… expecting something else?”
Oh, my wolf, I know you. You can be so wise in some ways and yet so clueless in others. It’s part of your charm. My inner monologue’s writer started furiously typing, and I did my best to keep an innocently amused expression.
I rushed to reply, “Ha! Dang, my wolf, you totally had me terrified. I mean, you know how bad tomorrow could get. It’ll probably one of the worst days of my life.” I paused, letting my gaze soften. “I thought, ‘There’s no way my wolf would ask me something so wonderful right before something so horrible.’ Then I realized I was an idiot. You knew exactly what you were doing, giving me all the safety and protection I needed right at the perfect time. You amaze me my Corey.”
At least that last part was one hundred percent true, and I hoped Corey could see it in my face. As fate would have it, I didn’t have long to dwell on it. A tall blond man approached our table, looking vaguely familiar.
Before I could place him, he extended his hand first to Corey, then to me. “Hey, guys - sorry to interrupt. I’m here on a date night with my mom, and she said your ‘proposal’ was the sweetest thing she’s ever seen. She insisted I come over and say hi.” He paused, a bit awkward, giving us time to react.
Before he could continue his introduction, it hit me. “Wait a second! Are you… Eric Porter?”
The awkwardness eased as he broke into a modest smile. “Yes, sir.”
I couldn’t help a chuckle. “No! Um, I mean no, you can’t call me sir! You’re one of my favorite wide receivers! I learned so much from watching you. I never dreamed I’d meet an NFL player. Dang! Tonight is unreal!”
I glanced at Corey, who looked both confused and - wait, was that a hint of jealousy? “Mr. Porter, this is my boyfriend, Corey Rainer, the love of my life. Corey, this is Eric Porter, a wide receiver for the Colts. One of my heroes.”
Corey and Eric slowly re-shook hands, and I instantly slipped into fanboy mode. “Eric, sorry sir - is just Eric alright? I played wide receiver in high school and had dreams of playing in college until life got in the way. You really inspired me.”
Eric, clearly used to such encounters, handled it like a pro. “Yes, just Eric and you’re Ollie, right?” I nodded. “You’ve got the look of a natural. I don’t know your story, but trust me, you should never deny a passion. If you ever get the chance, try out.”
I beamed at Corey and felt my heart surge. “We’re just visiting your city; we live in Ft. Worth and I’m hoping to transfer from U of M to TCU this fall. I’ll keep that advice in mind!”
Eric pulled a business card from his pocket. “Then you definitely should. Here’s my card. My mom would never forgive me if I didn’t offer you two something special. The Colts play the Cowboys next season in Texas. Give me a call and I’ll set you and Corey up with VIP tickets. But you gotta promise to root for the Colts.” He flashed a dazzling smile.
I agreed in a heartbeat, thanking him profusely. With a final handshake to both of us, Eric turned to Corey. “Buddy, what you did tonight was magical. You’ve inspired me. You two are going to be unstoppable.” We noticed a discreet wave from his booth - his beautiful mother smiling our way. He then slipped out of our spotlight as gracefully as he’d arrived.
I was on another planet, high on excitement and possibility. I couldn’t wait to get back to our magical hotel room.
** Corey’s Perspective **
In the eloquent words of Ted Lasso’s Roy Kent: “FFFFUUUUUUUCCKKKK!!!!” What the hell just happened? I just went from the verge of proposing to the love of my life, to him thanking me for not proposing, to having some blond, buff, NFL god waltz over and steal Ollie’s attention. Perfect. Just perfect.
To coin a phrase: “Corey, when you decide to fuck up, you go all out.” Once again, FFFUUUCCKKK!
After Ollie’s unexpected confession and Eric’s “Special Guest Star” appearance, I needed to bail - fast. “Bathroom break” became code for “rush to intercept the waiter before he brings the champagne.”
I caught up to our waiter and frantically waved him off from approaching our table. He took one look at my anguish and tried to reassure me. “My man, if you think what just happened was a ‘failure,’ you’re dead wrong. I’ve never seen anything more perfect since I started working here. And trust me, this is the place for proposals in downtown Indy.”
I managed a weak nod. “I know, that’s why we’re here.”
He offered a sympathetic grin. “Listen, you big blond superhero, you did exactly what you needed to do tonight. It might not match your plan, but it’s exactly what your boyfriend needed. That boy told you he’ll say yes - just not tonight. You both gotta get through whatever tomorrow is all about first. After that, believe me, he’ll be begging you to propose. You two are an amazing team. I’m jealous, honestly. You got this; you did great!”
Damnit, and just like that, I was hugging a random waiter in a steakhouse in downtown Indianapolis. Afterward, I really did head to the restroom, splashed water on my face, looked in the mirror and pulled myself together. Ollie had given me a gift - I just needed to recognize it. I pulled my metaphorical big-boy pants up and returned to our table to finish this totally unexpected but still totally perfect night.
“So, Ollie. Who’s cuter, me or Eric?” I asked, forcing my best smirk, adding every bit of bravado that I didn’t currently have.
My boy lit up. “I can’t believe you’re even asking that on the night you’ve made me the happiest pup on the planet,” he teased. “First off, Eric never rescued me, never gave me a new family, and never taught me the importance of using hair conditioner only for its on-label use.” His crystal blue eyes met mine with his newly-mastered smirk. “Plus, I’ve seen his internet pics. He’s smooth-chested and I’m pretty sure he trims his pits.”
That was all I needed to hear: Ollie was mine. Truthfully, he’d always been mine. Being stupid once tonight was enough - no need to go for twice. We finished our dessert with a few more public displays of affection and a handful of congratulatory nods from our fellow diners as we left.
Chapter 40: The Hoosier State
As soon as we stepped back into our room, I couldn’t help but marvel again and I gave Corey another well deserved “wow.” I elaborated, “Corey, look at this place! It may not have the Arch right outside, but this view is unreal.” I stood there, soaking in the city lights and looking at the impressive Monument Circle below. “My wolf, how did you know it’d be this amazing?”
He gave me a warm grin. “That’s easy, Ollie. I knew it would be perfect because you’d be here with me.”
I snorted softly. “Lurd, those cheesy lines, my wolf…” I rewarded him with a playful kiss, the first of what I suspected would be many tonight. “Good answer, but seriously, two amazing hotels in a row? You’re incredible.” Corey just growled softly and wrapped himself around me, slowly guiding us back against the glass wall that separated us from the city spread out beneath us.
He teased, “It’s just a bit of creative Google Mapping, some savvy Booking-dot-Com-ing, and a beautiful pup to inspire his lover’s desire. Then voilà, Magic in the Midwest.” And he started kissing me, all against our corner floor to ceiling view. I’ve never experienced Corey like this, it wasn’t just kissing, it was more like his tongue was licking mine. Coaxing it to join with his in the most erotic dance we’d ever attempted. One more tender and yet, more animalist, than I’d ever known.
Corey broke our kiss unexpectedly, I tried not to look too confused as he stepped away, heading back toward the room’s entrance. A moment later, the lights went dark, and I realized his plan. We were leaving the curtains wide open for our adventure, with only the glow of the city illuminating our private world.
And what an adventure it became. Corey moved with a purpose I hadn’t seen since our first nights together, or for our reconnecting shower after my ER stay. When he returned to our vantage point, he captured my lips once more, and as we stood there bathed in city lights, he began to undress me - slowly, even reverently - making it clear that tonight, this room, and this view, were here for our enjoyment.
My jacket had long ago been abandoned to the closet, but Corey frantically lifted my new shirt over my head. Not trapping me this time, I could tell, he was way too amped up to play any games. He equally efficiently stripped me of my pants and tighty-whities. All I could take credit for, was proactively taking my shoes off as we entered our sky-high wolf den. I had a strong suspicion of what was in store.
I realized I was totally nude, except for my socks, while my sexually intoxicated beast was totally clothed. The inequity of the situation added to my excitement; I had no idea what was going to happen next. Corey didn’t make me wait long. His growl was as authentic as it was demanding. He guided us to the bed and I was suddenly facing away from him on my hands and knees, as Corey’s tongue made its way to my furry taint and awaiting hole. I let my own growl escape and dropped to my elbows as I felt the same tongue I’d been licking, start opening the entrance to my soul.
Corey’s performance did not disappoint. But, knowing that spit and desire can only go so far, he gently added lube and his thick fingers to the mix. I can’t be clever. That’s all it takes for me to start my whines and begging. Which, to my total delight, is all it ever takes for my wolf to follow through on my wishes. Except this time, his chosen venue was once again, not our bed.
Even being completely under his spell, I was shocked and a bit anxious about where he led my compliant body. At his insistence, I suddenly found myself, totally nude, hard, and about to be bred, pressed against the glass corner of our floor to ceiling windowed room. Looking down on the center of Indy, I considered protesting, but realized it would be absolutely futile.
I heard Corey’s zipper lower and I felt his still fully-clothed body press up against mine. Pushing my nakedness against the windows. My only hope was that the room’s darkness and our elevation would keep our love private. But damn did the thrill ratchet my excitement up.
Finally, I heard the snap of the lube bottle opening again and I knew Corey was coating his shaft before applying another round to my willing hole. I braced myself for his frenzied thrusts, but I shouldn’t have. As worked up as he was, he was still my protector and he kissed my neck as he raised my hands up the window to expose my pits to his delight.
As he was nuzzling my pits from behind, I finally felt his girth gently work its way into my anticipating pucker. It’s so easy, all he has to do is make me want it so badly, then his entry becomes nearly pain free. But! I said, “nearly.” Still, the burn quickly dissipated as I lost myself in the unprecedented view and reveled in the heat of my lover’s body pressed against mine.
As he started to earnestly thrust into to me, I realized how much tonight must have meant to him. I understood what his intention was. I mean, it wasn’t misplaced; he’s always one hundred percent my loving Corey. Sometimes genius, other times, adorable clueless high school boy. At this special moment, I couldn’t love him more either way. And he couldn’t be making me feel any more amazing.
I tried my best to arch up toward his thrusting hips and that seemed to be what he needed. Suddenly my chest was pressed to the glass, my eyes trying not to roll back in my head so that they could appreciate the view. After way too short of a time, I heard a guttural, “Ollie, I love you. You’re my world.” And that was all it took. My DNA was running down the glass and Corey’s was doing its best to finally give us a puppy. I swear we’ll never stop trying.
He collapsed into my back and allowed himself to appreciate where we were. As he stared out the window, he softly said, “Ollie, I love you more than anyone else in this dazzling world.”
I rotated and returned his sentiment. Our kiss lasted forever and I couldn’t care less how many Hoosiers saw my satisfied butt dripping over Monument Circle. Well, I mean, it’s a wonderful state and I hope no one took offense at my unexpected delight and appreciation of their state’s capital.
Chapter 41: The Final Day Dawns
Time continued its forward march, whether I wanted it to or not. We woke up at 7:00 again, but intentionally this time. We needed to get through the four-hour drive up Interstate 69 to Ann Arbor to make our planned meeting at 1:00. Corey said he’d text our Michigan attorney, Andrew Bowman, around 9:00 to confirm our exact meeting location. Dang, I was already so nervous I doubted I could stomach breakfast.
“Hey, pup,” Corey growled softly as I rolled into him for our morning kiss and cuddle. He studied my face, his concern evident. “You’re looking a little pale. Trust me, Ollie, it’s going to be alright. I’ll be with you every step of the way. No matter what happens, you won’t be facing anything alone.” He gave a playful nudge, “And come on, you love driving my Mach E. Besides,” he booped my nose, “we’ll figure out a way to get you back into another Bronco soon.”
I smiled, gazing into his eyes. “I know, Corey, and if I get accepted at TCU, not having my own car won’t matter nearly as much anyway. But the Bronco was supposed to be mine. I’m not going to say ‘It’s all I have’ again.” I saw Corey’s smile falter slightly at that phrase - my emotional outburst on the day we met that I fear he still feels guilty about.
I cleared my throat, determined to explain. “It’s a symbol of my accomplishments. I worked hard for it. And it was my reward for doing so well in high school and getting into U of M. It’s something I’m proud of, and I know this sounds stupid, but it’s something I love and cherish. And now my father gets to take it all away.”
Corey pulled me close, hugging me in tight. “I know, pup. It’s not fair. Let’s hope the attorneys have made a strong case to present.” He moved back across our pillow, trapping me in his protective gaze. “Ollie, I know it’s a lame consolation, but I promise - this is the last time Richard Carson will ever take anything from you. After today, you’re free.”
I gave an accepting nod, absorbing his words. “In a weird way, I’m looking forward to showing off my big, beautiful, amazing Norse God to my parents. Like, see this, Father? Despite your efforts, I found the man of my dreams, and we already have a fantastic life - one you can’t imagine and will never be a part of.”
Corey moved back in for a second morning kiss. “Ollie, when you put it that way, I almost feel sorry for them. Sure, we’re losing a car, but he’s losing an Ollie - the most amazing part of my life. That’s a far bigger loss. Truly devastating.” He gave me an unmistakable, early-morning, seductive gaze.
We allowed ourselves a few more luxurious moments of making out in bed before we headed, hand in hand, to the shower. I didn’t expect to be up for any fun this morning, but our mutual attentions under the warm water calmed my nerves more than I could’ve imagined. Besides, I was getting really good at bringing my wolf the same joy he always brought me.
After drying off, we dressed in our best attire - our dress shirts and our best jeans - and then quickly repacked. I offered my silent, customary goodbye to our incredible room. Then we headed down to my Bronco for the last time. I felt steady, prepared, and most importantly, I had my wolf by my side.
****
We’d made good time on this final leg of our long journey, and Corey had received the information we needed; we’d meet Andrew in the Union’s Michigan Room and have a few minutes alone to speak with him before my father was scheduled to arrive. I assumed that’s when he’d brief us on what he planned to present.
I felt calmer than expected. It reminded me of taking a big test in school: you’re nervous until it starts, but once you begin, you just hope you’ve prepared enough to work your way through it. I tried to convince myself I was prepared.
But then I saw it: the small bridges over the North Kalamazoo River. I felt the blood drain from my face, and the bile rise in my gut. “Corey, I need to pull over,” I said, my voice shaky. He shot me a very concerned look. “I’ll be fine,” I barely managed. “I just need to stop for a few minutes.”
As soon as the Bronco rolled to a stop, I jumped out, my hands on my knees. Corey hurried around the front to meet me. “Ollie, are you okay? Do I need to drive the rest of the way?” His worry was evident and genuine.
I couldn’t answer immediately, so he pressed on. “Ollie, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
I nodded, finally able to stand up again as I pointed across the freeway toward a cluster of trees near the river on the southbound side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this. Remember when I told you about the morning I left home? I just realized, that’s where I pulled over to throw up. I’d never felt so lost, so alone, and so terrified in my life. The memory just hit me hard.”
Corey wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. “I’m here now, Ollie. I’ve got you. We’ve got this.” I melted into his embrace, the chill of old fears lingering. One way or another, my nightmare was finally coming to an end, just not before it managed to land a few more gut punches first.
To Be Continued…
