Castle Roland

The Redemption Book 2

by Joe Writer Man


Chapter 40

Posted: N/A

Nathan's POV

Donnie, his lips quivering and tears flowing from his eyes, said brokenly, "I'm sorry, Nathan. You know that I love you… can't we at least be friends? We don't have to have sex… as long as you're my friend…"

I couldn't stand seeing him hurt like that. He hadn't done anything bad or wrong. For perhaps the very first time in my life, I saw someone, someone I loved, hurting because of what I'd done, or, more correctly, what I had not done.

"Donnie, you didn't do anything wrong. Look, I'm sorry for being this way. I guess I've had a lot on my mind lately. It's good to see you. I love you, too." I said softly. I'd run out of words to say… I wanted him to hold me in his strong arms… oh, I had a lot to say, I just didn't know what to say… I couldn't think of the right words to say, because they were a whole jumbled up mess… I wasn't even sure what my feelings were… they were all running together.

"You said the only words that matter to me… the rest, well, we'll deal with them as they come. I'm really sorry for what she did to you. Nathan, I don't understand her anymore. Maybe I never did. For a long time, we were all we had. I know you may not understand this… hell, I didn't understand it until just today… I love my sister. At the same time, I hate what she did. I went to a head-banger today… I just had to know that I'm not crazy like that, like my sister, I mean…"

"You are crazy, Donnie… you're crazy for loving me, because I've pushed you away. It wasn't intentional… I still don't know how I'm going to deal with what she did to my baby. As far as she's concerned, all we did was fuck, and we fucked like rabbits… that's all. There wasn't much else there, you know, between us. I know you aren't crazy like that… what did you find out?"

Donnie looked up into my eyes with an intensity I'd never before seen from him. I started getting scared… I didn't know what to think… did he have cancer or something else bad? What had he found out at the doctor's office?

Although slow to respond, in my estimation, he finally said, "I'm crazy, but not crazy crazy. The doctor ran some tests – like what this or that picture looked like, what the black blotches on a piece of paper reminded me of, what they meant… it was crazy shit, Dude. So, I spend another hour just talking about life in general, what happened in our lives, and finally, I just came out to him and told him what's really going on. He said something magical – he asked what I was doing to remedy the situation. Was I even trying, or was I just rolling over and playing dead? Nathan, you've been through hell with that sick sister of mine, but are you going to let it get you down? I'll tell you one thing: I'm not going down without a fight, so you might as well get your boxing gloves out if you think I'm going to give up on US! So there!"

With that, he stopped playing with the button on the top of my shirt, put his arms around my chest, pulled me in, and held on firmly.

It was then, in that slice of time, that I realized I was, or had been, giving into the profound hurt and sorrow of losing my baby.

Donnie, had other plans, it seemed. I thought he was going after my body when he ran his hands up and inside my shirt, brushing my skin… instead, he used my shirt as a tissue to wipe dry his eyes. He then leaned in and rested his head against my chest, pulled my arms around his frame, squeezed me hard, and wouldn't let go… not that I wanted him to let go. As did his, my arms went around him fully and completely. I rested my head in the crook of his neck and drank in his aroma. His hair smelled like applies and cinnamon… faintly so, yet distinctly.

As we were standing there on the deck, holding each other, renewing our faith and love, raindrops, lots of them, started falling on us. But we didn't move. We were just enjoying the moment… I guess you could say the rain helped to cleanse our hearts and minds.

The rain started falling heavier and heavier. Soon, we were drenched. I didn't care. By the way Donnie was holding me, he didn't care either. The temperature of the rain wasn't cold, rather it was warm and inviting, almost, but not quite, like an inside shower.

Since it was dark outside, except for the light emanating from the dining room, without a qualm, I grasped the hem of Donnie's shirt and lifted it up and over his head, then tossed it to the picnic table.

At first, I was afraid that he would not want to … but, my fear dissipated when he reached for the hem of my shirt and lifted it up and over my head. And then, he took it a step further by unbuttoning and unzipping the front of my pants. He then reached inside my sopping wet underwear, and found something interesting. I wasn't hard, but I wasn't soft either. Though, if he kept at that for very long… which he did, of course.

As it were, I couldn't remember having ever been outside near naked and getting more naked as each moment went by, in the rain, no less.

Not to be outdone, I unsnapped his pants, and then in one fell swoop had both his jeans and underwear down around his ankles.

We both sat on the chaise lounge, removed our shoes and socks, pants and underwear. We joined together, holding each other firmly, the scent of sex strongly in the air all around our uncaring attitudes, despite the rain. Oh, we cared alright, just not about our state of dress on the overhanging deck on the house.

By then, I had no difficulty with the erectile tissues standing straight out from my pubic patch down below. Donnie was having no difficulties in that regard, either.

Without waiting another second, I turned to Donnie. He turned to me. And our lips came together. Our moment was briefly interrupted by the light in Mom and Dad's room turning off. Normally, Dad went around the house to make sure all the doors and windows were closed and locked, but, for some reason, he did not do it that night.

I picked up our clothes and put them on the table next to the lounger, returned to the chair, scooted back, and then with only a slight hesitation lifted my legs up high in the air.

Donnie's a smart dude.

With all the water cascading across our bodies, I was plenty slick. With only minimal resistance, my rose petals parted, permitting him to enter about an inch. Due to inactivity over the past few days, I was tight, very tight. Add to that: normally we used lube.

In any event, he stopped, sensing that I was uncomfortable.

I willed the muscles of my tunnel to relax, to permit full entry; I wanted him so bad. I removed my hands from his butt, ran them up his back, then pulled him down. Hungrily, we kissed, but for just a brief moment. Determined and driven, my hands went back down. I threw my head back, and then pushed down as hard as I could. At the same time, without hesitation, forcefully, I pulled his spear in deep, deep, deep into my core.

The initial entry pain was hot, searing. Donnie noticed it immediately. He attempted to back off, but I wouldn't let him, not then, not ever as far as I was concerned. I held onto his buns. I tried to pull him in further, knowing those efforts were unnecessary as I felt his pubes resting against my most sensitive tissues in that region, but I wanted everything he had.

The pain didn't last long. Sensing the change in me, he gently retracted two or so inches, then went down to the hilt. As he pulled out toward my back door, I'd push down with all my might. Soon, very soon, he pulled completely out, then, immediately, he'd reinsert his carnal tube to the hilt. He did that 2 or 3 times, then, unable to stop himself, his body shuddered a deep, thundering conclusion, coating my insides with his love nectar. One, two, three, four and finally a fifth pulsation brought our coupling to a completion. When he started to pull out, I had other plans for him and his maleness. Any discomfort from entry had been replaced with need. One, two, three, four, five and finally a sixth squeeze down with all of my strength sent him into aftershock mode, causing his body to involuntarily jerk from the sheer unadulterated pleasure emanating from that which designates him male.

His penis quickly wilted and slid out on its own volition, leaving my anal orifice gaping wide open.

Without missing a beat, we changed positions, however my penis immediately felt resistance. Almost panicking, he jumped off, saying, "Gotta go, Dude. Don't go anywhere."

With that, without regard for his state of dress, he bounded into the house. The rain intensified, and then a shrieking bolt of lightening struck close by; a crash bang of thunder jerked me out of any further desire for coupling.

Quickly, I ran into the house, leaving our clothes behind. I went to the bathroom door, knocked once, twice, then not receiving a response went in anyway. Sure enough, Donnie looked up and away from the floor to see me enter. At the same time, his face reddened as he pushed down hard, then relaxed and he got this shiteating (pun intended) grin on his face. I shook my head, then reached into the shower, turned it on, got the temperature just right and entered. I stuck my head out and asked him to please not flush, not wanting the hot scalding water to burn us.

After showering, we went to my bedroom, closed the door, got into bed, and then Donnie gave me what I'd given him. Sleep immediately followed.

Startled, I popped my eyes open. I looked to the clock, it read 6:40am. To this day, I do not know what awakened me like that. I was on my back and Donnie was curled up on his side and facing away. Only his butt was against my hip, so I easily got out of bed, walked to the dresser, grabbed the first pair of underwear on top and hastily put them on. They were massively loose. They were surely a pair of Derrick's that had made it to my room.

Exiting my room, I beat a fast path to the restroom, closed the door, then raced to the toilet, sat down, and let loose with that which needed letting loose. I was a bit sore back there, but not enough to write home about. As I was sitting there, I looked at the waistband… they were surely Derrick's – size 34. Whatever.

Finished and flushed, I headed into the kitchen where Dad, Mom and Derrick were sitting, chatting, and enjoying a cup of coffee.

Mom said, "Good morning… why are you up so early?"

"Bathroom." I mumbled groggily.

Derrick snickered haughtily while bringing a cup of the steaming hot liquid to his lips, and cautiously took a sip. Mom rolled up her eyes, but said nothing. Dad, meanwhile, snickered, and took a sip of his coffee.

I walked to the refrigerator, reached for the orange juice, got a glass and filled it, took a deep gulp, and then remembered Donnie's and my clothes had been left on the deck the previous night. After sitting down the glass, I walked to the sliding glass door, peered out, and just about shit my pants when the clothes were not where we had left them.

Dad belly laughed. Mom cackled. And Derrick said, "Missing something, Oh Little Bro."

If I could have drilled a hole in the floor and disappeared, I would have, right then and there. There was no escape without passing them by.

I opened the door and peered outside, hoping against all hope the wind blew them up against the house, or something – but they were nowhere to be found. I stole a moment, walked out onto the deck and looked to the ground – again hoping against all hope they'd blown to the ground… no such luck, though one of the chaise lounge cushions was lying on the ground.

I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked toward that movement, only to see Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, our neighbors, sitting out on their deck looking my way.

They were quite the prim and proper couple. Without so much as thinking anything, a hot searing heat traveled from the top of my head to the end of my toes, and all points between.

Realizing I was only wearing a loose pair of underwear I beat feet into the house, hastily closing the door behind me.

I'd been had twice that morning – I'd only been up 20 minutes. I took a deep breath, then walked, as nonchalantly as possible, through the entryway into the kitchen, grabbed my glass of juice, then sat down at the table with my family, hoping against all hope that nothing more would be said.

But that was not to happen… Mom, clearly amused, asked, "Looking for something?"

Dad snickered. Derrick sputtered, having just taken a sip of his coffee. Mom's mirth was clearly evident. She patted my hand and said, "They're in the wash."

With that said, unnecessarily, I will add, she got up and walked into the kitchen, retrieved eggs from the refrigerator and began breakfast preparations.

Casually, looking straight at me, Dad said, clearly amused, "That was quite the storm we had last night."

"Yes, Sir. Would you guys please stop, already?"

"No way." Derrick piped up, immediately.

Had Mom and Dad not been there… Derrick would have surely been on the receiving end of a whole flock of birds, but they were there, so I refrained, though I swore revenge when the time was right… heh heh heh.

I reached across the table, grabbed an apple and took a bite off it, just as the buzzer from the dryer notified us that its cycle was just about finished. Mom said, "Your clothes are dry, go get them and put them away, please."

After taking another bite, I got up, went into the laundry room, gathered up our clothes, closed the door, walked through the kitchen toward my room with the hopes that nothing more would be said about Donnie's and my ‘reconciliation'. Nothing more was said, however I knew they were thinking ‘it'.

As I passed by the bathroom, Timmy's door opened. He was holding his dick. Without hesitation he ran in, walked to the toilet, and then whipped it out and began relieving pent up liquids.

The boy knows no discretion.

Donnie was still very much asleep, not having moved one inch from when I'd awakened and left my room, neither did he awaken while I neatly folded our clothes. After putting them on the dresser, I walked to my bed, shucked off my underwear and crawled in.

I snickered. I reached to the headboard, retrieved the tube of lube, squeezed out a generous amount into my fingers, then slowly, carefully, quietly, spread his cheeks, applied the slick stuff, put my penis inside his chasm, and pushed meaningfully past those buns and on into his waiting cavern. By the time my love tube traveled to the hilt, he was wide awake, taking it all in, a rush of breath in was his only response. He was like totally relaxed. I soon reached that magical moment, and then deposited my seeds into my boyfriend. We both loved each and every second it took to unload my testicles.

"Hmm… I like waking up like this." Donnie said casually.

A knock on the door interrupted our smooch session. I got up, simply because I was lying on the side of the bed facing the door. Timmy announced that breakfast was ready and to hurry up before it got cold.

Donnie got up, grabbed the underwear off the floor and padded into the bathroom and closed the door.

I was a bit ‘slick' from our forage into lovemaking. Naked as the day I'd been born, I joined Donnie in the shower. It was quick and to the point, no playing around.

As soon as we entered the kitchen, we knew something was up. Gone was the jovial attitude and bantering around from earlier that morning. It was replaced by serious gazes toward the TV sitting on the bar next to the wall in the kitchen where everyone was gathered. The newscaster was saying, "This is an exclusive follow up to breaking news released by Northwestern Medical Center earlier in this newscast. It has been reported that a former Chicago police officer suffered extensive injuries while in jail awaiting trial for sex crimes against children. The latest information, just in, indicates Officer Williams died from his injuries. Stay tuned to WGN, Chicago's only world wide news affiliate. Now to Jeff for our weather forecast on this bright sun shiny day. Jeff."

"Thank you, Bill. After a severe storm passed through our area overnight… expect sunny, hot and humid conditions for the rest of the week…" Click.

Mom quickly excused herself and headed toward her office, without saying a word.

Joey, normally subdued and restrained about those matters, muttered, "Good for him!" Then reached for the butter to slather on his pancakes.

Timmy, however, had a totally different reaction. Without saying a word, he walked to Joey, wrapped his arms around his eating brother, and began crying softly… his shoulders, though, told a much different story: they were shaking as if he was holding it all in.

Dad, seeing what was happening, immediately pulled them both into his arms and held them tight. When I saw Joey bury his head into Dad's chest, I got up, walked to them and joined their embrace.

Donnie, kissing my cheek whispered, said, "I'm going home. Call me later. I love you."

I nodded appreciatively, kissed his lips, and then returned to my family.

I needed to stay strong for my brothers.

Brokenly, Joey, very softly, said "I wanted to see him go down, damn it."

Dad said, softly, "I wanted to see the man who hurt my children go down, too. Boys, men who are put away for hurting and harming little kids don't really stand a chance of long-term survival. Even the most hardened criminals, unless they hurt kids, too, have a serious distaste for those that hurt children. I know you may not see it right now, but, I am so very happy that you do not have to testify about what you went through, publicly, in a court of law."

Timmy, gathering himself back up, as he always does during difficult times, while wiping his eyes free of tears on Dad's shirt, said, "We're free, now, Joey. Dad's right, don't you see it?"

Joey replied, "Yeah… I'm sorry, Dad, I just wanted to see him go down. I'd promised myself that he'd go down for what he did to Timmy…"

"Son, you've been taking way too much on your shoulders. As I said, as I knew, he received worse punishment than the law could ever give him. It's over now. Your real healing can start… you're going to be okay. I just know you are. You boys are so brave… I'm so proud of you."

Mom's POV

The news was surprising, and shocking, too. As Williams' attending physician, I expected to hear the news first, from my staff, not from a newscaster.

My first call was to the SICU. The SICU nursing director answered, "Surgical Intensive Care Unit, Darlene speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi Darlene, this is Dr. Mauer. I just learned that my patient…"

"Dr. Mauer, I'm sorry… I'm transferring you to Dr. Willis." Click.

Dr. Willis is our Chief of Surgery. He's very elderly. Reports have it that he's well into his 80′s. He's still performing surgery. He's a pioneer in surgical treatment of pancreatic cancer. I trust him implicitly. He was my professor back during my residency and fellowship. He taught me well. In a heartbeat, he'd be my first choice of surgeons to give surgery to my family in their time of need. Dr. Willis was also Director of Ethics.

Before he even answered the page, I knew that my behavior in the OR had been unethical. No question. But, Dr. Willis was fair. He called it as it is…

"Dr. Willis." He answered in his deep, gravely, yet reassuring voice.

"Hi, Dr. Willis. This is June Mauer." I said.

"Oh hi, June. How are you this morning?"

"I'm okay. Thank you for asking."

"And how are those boys of yours?"

"They're okay, though they're upset. They heard disturbing news on TV this morning. They have some deep scars that haven't healed yet."

"Yes. Yes. I know that you and your husband are the perfect parents… if ever they had a best- chance… then they have the best there is."

"Thank you, Dr. Willis. Your words mean so much to me. I'll share them with my husband. We've had help, though. I'm so grateful to all involved." I took a deep breath, and continued, "Sir, yesterday, I lost my objectivity in the OR. I take full responsibility for my behavior."

"So I heard. I've been in the same situation. You did your job… I know you. You'd never intentionally hurt or harm a patient. Not every patient that comes in here has a good outcome. Here's the deal: a coroner's inquest has been called. I'm not sure who called it. I'm looking into it. As you know, an Attending can't be involved in any way. You don't have anything scheduled… take a few days off. Spend some time with your family. I'm not worried, June. He probably threw a pulmonary embolism. Anyway, I'm due at Cook County morgue in an hour, for the autopsy. I'll call you in a day or two."

"Okay, thanks. I'll look forward to your call."


He's like that. Short and to the point.

I sat there going over the procedure.

I smiled and hearing the sounds of hammers, and laughter, too – Timmy and Joey's.

I wondered what they were up to now.

Joey's POV

I'd had enough of the melancholy. It's not my style.

The motherfucker was dead.

Timmy and I were alive.

We had a family that loved us.

We had a family whom we loved.

The love, from and to, both ways, gets stronger and stronger day by day.

Dad said, "Go get dressed. We have work to do." He patted our backs, pulled me into a hug, then did the same for Nathan and Timmy.

With that, renewed, we headed to our rooms. I put on a pair of jeans, socks and tennis shoes, but no shirt. It was already hot outside. I was trying to grow a tan.

We met in front of the garage. Dad unlocked it, then we went inside and got our tools. Dad had purchased tool belts for each of us. He believed in having the correct tools to do a job. He did not, however, buy a power nailer. Instead, he wanted to build most of the addition with brute strength so that we'd learn the procedures to follow, and to grow in us a strong pride in our work.

The building was going up. We seemed to work in tandem, almost like a well-oiled machine.

All framing we had left to do was the last wall on the far end. Dad had shown us how to nail the 2×4′s together so that they were strong and secure. Without hesitation, we had the materials put together. Nathan, Dad and Timmy held the frame up after I got up on a ladder. When everything was in place, to the one-forth inch tolerance, I was cleared to start hammering in nails so that it would stand attached to the other frames. I hammered those 16 penny nails all the way in 4 strikes. The nails didn't bend, nor did they go out the sides of the boards they were being hammered into. Not needing to, but doing so anyway, I tried to wiggle the board wondering if I did it correctly… the thing was rock solid.

With renewed senses of accomplishment and confidence, I took in a deep breath and hammered in the other side of the frame, effortlessly.

Timmy expertly toenailed the bottom corners securely. I climbed down off the ladder. He was ready… a high five was in order, and shared. The four of us walked to the stack of 4×8 plywood boards, grabbed corners, then like perfection carried it to a framed wall. Nathan got up on the ladder and put the first nail in like a champ. He looked so funny… he was so serious… honing in on each hammer strike with precision. When he gets that serious, his tongue hangs out of his mouth. Like an expert, wasting no time, he hammered the upper points, thus securing the board.

I did the middle section, then Timmy slammed home the bottom.

Seeing that we were doing just fine, we continued to put up the boards while Dad and Derrick started doing electrical work inside.

Sweat was dripping off us like we'd been sprayed with a water hose. The fluid exuding from our pores stung my eyes like crazy.

Mom exited the house with a tray of drinks. She was smiling deeply.

"DRINKS!" I shouted.

All tools and whathaveyou were dropped to the ground. We took off up the stairs, thirsty beyond belief.

Mom said, "Sip it slowly. You'll get a brain freeze if you don't drink it slowly."

One of the few times we defied Mom's instructions, four people were hanging their heads, trying to get over the pain of – headaches – brain-freeze.

Mom snickered, "One of these days… you guys are incorrigible."

We worked late into the evening, taking only a few minutes to eat sandwiches Mom had prepared. She also kept us drinking Gatorade about every hour. Mind you, we drank much more slowly, not wanting to have headaches.

Hard to believe, but we got all the walls up so that it was closed up, save for the roof. Dad and Derrick got up on the rafters where they affixed roller apparatus so that bringing the sheets of plywood would be easier and safer, too. Dad explained the kinetics, proper alignment and weight distributions so that we'd understand how to do a job much more efficiently, and with less stress to the human body.

While they were finishing up, we got busy cleaning up and putting tools away in their rightful places.

We were totally toasted so there wasn't any messing around. Head hair was plastered against our faces, jeans and underwear were totally soaked to the maximum… even my toes felt like they were squishing inside my work boots. Dad insisted on safe footwear, knowing there would be nails and metal pieces lying all around. Because this project was the first one for Nathan, Timmy and me, Dad was emphatic with giving instructions on safety and how to do things right so that there were no injuries to anyone.

By the time I got into the house, Nathan and Timmy were already in the bathroom. I wanted to talk to Dad, so I went into their room, caught him just as he was entering the shower cubicle, "Dad, can I take a shower with you… I kinda want to talk to you in private…"

Dad nodded, and said, "You don't have to ask permission to talk to me."

He got in while I undressed to the skin, tossing my clothes into their dirty clothes basket. After peeing, Dad stepped aside to let me in.

"What's up, Joey?" He asked while I dunked my head under the spray. I felt a cold liquid spread across the top of my head… knowing that he'd put an ample supply of shampoo up there. He swiped my eyes and forehead to keep the suds out of my eyes… how does he know when to do that? He's always thinking ahead… most times I can't even think 10 seconds beyond what's going on at the time.

"Thanks, Dad. You always seem to know what to do when we get all stressed out. I'm sorry for saying what I said earlier today, you know when we found out the mother… sorry… asshole died."

My throat tightened up. My chest got tight. I so didn't want to start crying, thinking of those times that asshole made me suck him off, the day when he just about got me, how I fought him away, and then ran for my life.

I stuck my head under the nozzle and began frantically rinsing out my hair before I totally lost it… I felt it coming up… and damn it, I had to maintain… I just had to. Another pair of hands, Dad's hands took over while I held a washcloth against my face. "I'm sorry, Dad… I need to talk, but I can't…"

"Son, let those feelings out, don't hold them in. They'll eat you up. Just let go. Okay, all the soap's out… here, wipe your face backward through your hair… that'll take care of the stray drips." He said while putting his arm around my shoulders to steady me as I put my head back and did as he suggested.

When I brought my head back to a normal position, our eyes met. In his, I saw only love and concern. That pushed me over the edge. Slowly, I dropped my head into his chest. He put his arms around my shoulders and pulled me close.

We didn't say anything for a few minutes. I just laid my head against his strong chest and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. I didn't really sob. I think I was too tired for that to happen… my chest made the motions, but I wasn't out of control. Actually, I wasn't really crying because of what he'd done to me, rather I was trying to imagine what had happened to Timmy… I had been able to fight the fucker off, but Timmy hadn't been able to. I cried, "Dad, Timmy… is he going to be okay? Most nights he comes and crawls in bed with me, and cries his pain. I hold him, but I don't know what else to do…"

Softly, Dad said, "You're doing everything just right. Son, there are times when brothers can help each other much better and effectively than all the parental support we can give. I'm glad that he feels comfortable and safe coming to you. That says a lot, Joey. You just keep doing what you're doing."

I nodded against his chest. He patted my back and reminded me the water was cooling off, rapidly. I washed my crotch and crack while Dad washed my back. We traded places, then got out just as the water turned ice cold.

After drying off, Dad raised one arm then the other as he rolled deodorant in my pits saying I was growing up, as expected for my age and maturity level. I looked closely in the mirror and saw one single solitary black hair growing from the outer edge of my right pit. The left one was clear, baby butt smooth. When Dad turned away, I grabbed that bugger and pulled it out. It wasn't firmly embedded.

Then, feeling need, I sat on the toilet. All that exited was a huge, long rolling fart, relieving all needs.

Dad giggled, exiting.

Dinner was quick… Mom had called out for pizza while we were showering, not wanting to cook, and not wanting to overfeed us.

After eating, we all piled into the living room, hoping to watch a movie or two. But, within 15 minutes, I was sound asleep, exhaustion taking complete control.

At some point during the night, I didn't look at the clock to see when, I vaguely recall being slightly awakened as Timmy tapped my forehead, kissed my cheek, then, once I was coherent, a little bit, we headed to my room and crawled into bed, and immediately fell asleep.

When my eyes popped open later, Timmy was lying half across my chest, breathing deep and rhythmical. His face was right next to mine. I turned my face slightly and kissed his cheek and said, "I love you, Bro. We're going to be alright." I joined him in slumber, feeling okay – really, really okay.

Skeeter's trademark ring-tone shattered the silence of slumber… God, I was sleeping so well… and I was dreaming of our making love, his sausage deeply embedded within my depths, his lips touching mine, hungrily, wantonly, nearing that magical moment when nothing else mattered, except to be filled with his healing juices.

By the time of the third ring, I was wide awake, then reached for the phone, and said, "Hey, Lover Boy."

"Hay's for horses." Skeeter said, giggling. I loved hearing his voice, I so wanted him in bed with me, really, truly stuffing me with all that he's got. I reached back, ran my hand into my crack, just to make sure that he really hadn't been there. Unfortunately, there was no evidence that he'd been there.

"I was dreaming…"

"What were you dreaming of?" Skeeter asked, breathily.



"Little Skeeter was buried…"

"You dressed?"



I grasped hold of my fully elongated tube of pleasure, squeezed it firmly… it was ready… I was ready.

Ahhh… and then… I wasn't.

"Williams is dead." I said while wiping the evidence off my neck, chest, belly and pubes.

"I know. It's on the news down here, too. Good for him."

"Yeah. Fitting. Anyway, we can't spend anymore time worrying about him."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I had a meltdown last night. Dad put my head back on. Timmy slept with me. I think he needed reassurance, or something. Speaking of Dad, he worked our asses off yesterday. I'm sore… but it's all good. How's Luke?"

"He's good. He said to say Hey."

"Hay's for horses."

Skeeter giggled, "Yeah. Speaking of, he's going to regular school in the fall. Mom and Stacy are working with him. He's pretty smart. I think he's going to be alright.. Dad works him real hard… you know… he keeps him busy. We give him all kinds of strokes to build him up."

Immediately, my mind went into the gutter… I already knew his brothers kept him ‘busy' but couldn't help saying, "I bet he's getting lots of strokes." Then broke out in a serious case of giggles.

"You got that right. He gives ‘em, too." Skeeter said, chuckling.

"JOEY – GET OFF THE PHONE … DANG, ARE YOU AND SKEETER GLUED TOGETHER?" Nathan whined, surely from his room.

"YES!" I yelled back.

Quiet. More quiet. Feeling assured that no further interruption would happen for a few seconds, at least, I said, "Skeeter, I know we're playing around and stuff… I just want to make sure you are okay if… Timmy wants me to show him what making love really means… and I mean he wants us to go all the way… are you okay with it? I mean, I won't do anything unless… you know I love you, Skeeter. You're my man. I love only you… I love Timmy in a different way."

Skeeter said seriously, "You know that Mark, Luke, and sometimes Eric, and I really do not have anything between us. We've talked about this… so, yes, I am just fine… just remember – I love you in a very special way… so much so that we are going to get married some day… soon, I hope."

"I miss you so much. It hurts, Dude." I said, then immediately felt my chest constricting.

"Joey, you're special people… I've known that since the second we met. I'll be right there, Dad. Sorry about that… gotta go. Do what you want to do… I'm always with ya. Love ya. Gotta get, now."

"I love you, too. I gotta git, too."

Click. Click.

I drug my ass out of bed… God, was I sore. Walking like an old man, surely, no, not you, Dad, I made my way to the bathroom, but not before Timmy skirted through my grasp, and headed to the toilet. He looked my way, grinned, pointed his dick toward the bowl, and after a bit of delay… began a stream to be proud of. I closed the door, entered, and joined him. I didn't think it was ever going to stop.

"Joey, we're free now."

"Yeah." I said, pulling him into my side, squeezing firmly.

Finally my bladder was empty. Timmy's stopped at about the same time, then before I could do anything, he grabbed my penis and squeezed it once, twice, three then four times. I, of course, grabbed his, too.

Finished and flushed, we washed our hands, and dried them. Timmy looked at me through the mirror and said, "Joey?"

"Yeah, lil Bro."

"Joey… uhm… never mind, I won't want to jack anything up. Come on, we've got work to do… race ya!"

"Think so, huh?"

"I know so! Last one out gets to suck me off!"

Before I could retort, he was gone, off to his room… laughing all the way.

I chuckled, ran to my room, donned a pair of outside shorts… and tore off for the garage. I knew Dad wouldn't let me work in those clothes… but I beat Timmy. That's all that was important, and no it wasn't necessarily because he was going to suck my dick.

He came running out of the house, with Mom chasing him and yelling about the rule of no running in the house. He skidded to a stop in front of me with this ornery look on his face, then giggling, said, "Don't count… you heard Dad. He told us all at the same time… YOU LOSE, SUCKER!"

When I reached toward him, he tore out through the yard – with me on his heels, and then he tripped over his own feet – which cracked me up. I landed on top of him and began tickling his ribs without mercy. He was squealing and squalling demanding that I stop, lest he pee his pants… since we were outside, I didn't care if he did or not… but… his tear drops did indeed stop me from tickling him anymore. Sometimes I just don't know when to quit… the expression in his eyes said it all… what I saw inside of him was love, pure unadulterated love… and… wonder, too… why I would even think of harming him, or embarrassing him. Hadn't he had enough of both to last his entire lifetime? Wasn't he here, with us, to be safe and protected against such things?

Tom had told me a number of times that I had a selfish streak inside my head… right then and there I got a smackdown harder than I'd ever experienced before. I felt lower than a snake's belly.

I moved off him so that he could get up… but he stayed there, and he continued looking into my eyes, boring holes through my soul.

Was I going to get up and walk away? That's how I usually dealt with things, either that or I'd really hurt ya… you know – get mad and hide the pain of hurting someone, inside of me.

"It's okay, Joey. Don't worry about me." Timmy said, then bounded up and ran toward the garage where Dad, Nathan and Derrick were gathering supplies and tools together so we could continue building the garage addition. Timmy looked back toward me, with hurt in his eyes, then taking a different direction, tore off up the stairs… Dad stopped him, though, by calling his name. He turned on a dime, clambered down the stairs and stood in front of Dad.

Meanwhile, I arrived at the same time. I looked at Timmy, and tried to convey that I was sorry, but Dad interrupted the thought process by saying, "Joey, you have some explaining to do. You go inside. You and Timmy work it out. Now go do what you need to do. I won't tell you again. Timmy, come here."

Obediently, Timmy walked to Dad and looked into his eyes. Dad said, "I want you to go with Joey. You two need to work this out. I saw what happened. If I have to step between you – then I will – but… if I do then both of you will be treated equally. Nathan, I want you to go up on the deck while Derrick and I hoist these pieces of plywood up onto the roof… this is a very dangerous position for you on the ground."

We were dismissed.

Nathan looked at me, then to Timmy, and did as he was instructed.

I looked at Timmy… he looked away, then took off for the house. He walked slowly, like he really didn't want to be going. "Timmy, wait up." I said. He continued walking on, and then up the stairs to the deck, and then on into the house.

Nathan looked at me like I'd fucked up… and I had fucked up. I'd hurt my little bro.

Timmy was at the kitchen sink slugging down a glass of water while Mom looked on. She looked at me… questions were registering across her face and through her eyes. I said, "Mom, Timmy and I need to work out something. Dad said so. I know so." Timmy shrugged his shoulders, poured another glass of water and then headed to the back of the house toward the bedrooms.

I walked to Mom and said, "I screwed up. I need to make it right. It might take a while."

"Apologies work wonders. Don't be too hard on yourself. He loves you very much. He was just telling me last night how you and Nathan really care because you watch out over him… He finally feels like he fits into our family. I put him to bed last night after giving him a bath. You guys will be okay… just talk to him. Work it out. You two will be stronger as a result."

"Mom, I love you. You and Dad always know what to say at the right time." I said, then tenderly kissed her lips, got a glass of water and headed to Timmy's room.

His door was closed. When I knocked he said, "Just a minute."

I waited.

A couple of minutes later, he opened the door then walked to his desk and sat down on the chair and looked toward me. His eyes, earlier radiant and ornery, appeared somewhat cold and gray. The look in his eyes said it all, despite him saying, "It's okay, Joey. I don't need to talk about it. We'll just tell Dad everything's just fine."

Those words stabbed me in the chest worse than any knife could ever do.

"Can I come in?"

"Suit yourself. I'm really okay."

I entered, closed the door, walked to him, knelt down on the floor, looked into his eyes and said, "Timmy, I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you. You know that I'm working a 12 step program… anyway, that's beside the point… the point is that I fucked up, I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to be sorry for… we were playing around. It's no big deal, really it isn't. Get changed, let's get to work. They're waiting for us." With that said, he stood, but I gently stopped him and urged him to sit on his bed.

There, I drew him into my arms with very little resistance. Surprisingly, he melted into my side, then wrapped his arms around my midsection and squeezed.

"Timmy, I love you. You were right this morning. Remember what you said about us being free?"

Meekly, he nodded into my chest, then squeezed me harder. I wrapped both my arms around him and said, "Timmy, listen to me very carefully." I said very softly, just above a whisper.

He looked up and into my eyes… though wary, he was listening. Somehow, I thought my next words would have a long-lasting, perhaps permanent even, effect on him, so I chose my words slowly, wisely, I hoped, "Timmy, whether you realize it or not… you are a part of my past… and I am a part of your past, too. That jackass may have taken a big part of your life before now, but he also brought us together. If all that stuff didn't happen, then we wouldn't be right here right now. My friends say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Timmy, you are a very strong little brother; sometimes I wonder if you aren't older than you say you are. I just told Mom that Her and Dad always seem to know what to say when and how… and well, you do, too."

"I'm just a kid, Joey. I don't know jackshit about any of that stuff."

"Oh, but you do! In a lot of ways, you're much smarter than I can ever be. Sometimes, I have a really hard time putting into words what's right here < I touched his t-shirt covered chest >… your words, your facial expressions, your body language… in other words ‘you' seem to have it down much better than I can do."

"You're just saying that, right?"

"Well, yeah, I'm saying it… but I'm telling you the truth, honest I am. I'm speaking to you from my heart, so help me, it's true."

"I get afraid, sometimes. I know you guys love me… I can feel it… it feels good… but I get confused… you know… like it's all a dream or something that will end. I don't know what I'm trying to say… I mean… you guys could have kicked my ass into the next country a few times… but you didn't. I'm not afraid that you won't love me… I just get confused… damn it… I can't say it right…"

"You aren't the only one." I said, chuckling, thinking, knowing we had a common ground to stand on.

Timmy snickered, too, deeply. He held out his pinky finger, "Promise, swear or face the mighty wrath of the kingdom… we'll never quit trying."

I raised my hand, stuck out my own pinky, and repeated, "Promise, swear or face the mighty wrath of the kingdom… we'll never quit trying."





"No shit."

"No shit."





"Just between us, okay? Promise."

"Just between us, promise."

"Do you remember the question I asked you… the big question? You know… about… what… I mean… you know… if we, I mean, could you… would you… show me what it's like… you know… ermmmm…"

"To be made love to?"

"Yeah. Have you talked to Skeeter? You know…"

"I'd love to… and yes we did talk about it. There's more to love than just fucking. If a person thinks they'll find love only when they give their ass… then it won't work…"

"I know. We'd be different, though."

"Yeah, definitely. We love each other… so if we made love then we'd just get stronger, I think. What do you think?" I said, assuredly, knowing it was true, yet wondering what he thought and felt.

Timmy's body shuddered… like he was cold, or something. I looked down… the little fuzzy hairs on the side of his cheek, just in front of his ears were standing out. His jaws were clenched… not because he was angry, but because he was cold.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him firmly. He put his hand on my arm and squeezed lightly.

I stood up, then urged him to stand, too. Together, as one, we came together and held on tightly. He said, very, very quietly, "I need to take a shower first. I kinda had an accident." He looked into my eyes… in them I saw nothing but total and mortal embarrassment. His lip quivered, then he pushed them both together… and a lone drip escaped his eye, landing on his shirt.

I patted his back, squeezed tight, and said, "I'm sorry, Timmy. I won't say anything to anybody. Just toss your underwear in the dirty clothes… that'll be the end of it. Just between you and me."

"No way … Joey, I had an accident! I can't just go tossing them anywhere…"

"We'll handle it. Here < I leaned down and pulled the trash bag out of the receptacle, handed it to him >, just put your shorts in here… then you can just throw the bag in the big dumpster in the garage."

"Okay, that'll work. Thanks. What would I ever do without you? You always have the answer."

With that said, he was out the door in a second. I stood there wondering what I'd do without him. Despite our rough start… he was definitely growing inside my heart. But… I don't always have the answers… I used to, at least I thought so, until Nathan and I came to live with Mom, Dad and Derrick.

I looked to the bathroom door. My heart went heavy at thinking, one more time, how I'd embarrassed my newest little brother. I took off for the kitchen, grabbed a large heavy duty trash bag, then went around and emptied all the waste baskets. With that accomplished, I walked to the bathroom door and waited for the shower to turn on… knowing Timmy would not see me, my plan was to gather his stuff up, take it out to the outside trash receptacle… that way he wouldn't have to do it.

Mission accomplished.

Outside, it was hotter than the previous day, and more humid, too. Mom kept the Gatorade flowing. Several breaks were taken sitting under the shade tree out back. Dad and Derrick hoisted those heavy sheets of plywood using those roller apparatuses… they made the job look easy. I paid attention so that if there was ever another time, then I'd know how to do it.

During one of the breaks, Nathan took my arm and led me to the arbor where we sat down just to talk between ourselves. Timmy had gone in the house, and Dad and Derrick were sitting on the ground recovering from the heat up on top of the building. Dad had said the temperature up there was probably 10-15 degrees hotter than down on the ground… they had taken frequent breaks… by noon, their breaks were becoming longer and longer.

The pensive expression on Nathan's face told me that he had something to say. I scooted across so that we could speak and see eye to eye. He smiled, and said, "You're a good brother, Joey. I just had to say it. I don't know what I would have done without you. Those nights you were out… I now know why you did what you did… but I didn't understand it then. Anyway, I needed to tell you… I love you, Bro."

And then, without warning, he lunged and smashed my back against the ground… his ornery look back in full force and effect. He was getting stronger… but… his older brother prevailed – in the end. I needed to get back into training… having been away from it since the injury to my chest… otherwise he was going to prevail… and I wasn't about to have that happen!

So much for the break… we were sweating like pigs from rolling around in the grass, striving for supremacy. Nathan had the biggest smile on his face that I'd ever seen… and I'd seen him smile a lot over the past few weeks, so to say he had the biggest smile on his face… is an understatement.

While walking to the work-site, I noticed the curtains in the dining room window closing, and Mom turning her head and walking away. I smiled inside knowing she was and is always there for us, no matter what.

For the rest of the afternoon, we worked hard and efficiently to get the building buttoned up. Storms had been predicted for that evening. At about 5:30, or so, Dad said that was enough for the day. He didn't look so good. Derrick didn't look all that good either. We shooed them off into the house to take their showers while we picked up sawed off ends of boards and the tools and put them in their rightful places. Thunder was heard off in the distance. That set a sense of urgency to get the job done as quickly as possible.

A company was coming the following day to professionally hang the garage doors. Just as we were climbing up the stairs, the sky opened up and poured buckets and buckets of cold rain. We were so hot that we just sat down on a step leading up… and enjoyed the coolness. We ran inside, though, when a crash of thunder close by snapped the solitude… Needless to say, Mom was none too happy about us traipsing through the house to our rooms, but she didn't say anything… she just had ‘The Look' that tells ya she ain't necessarily happy about something.

The three of us jumped into the shower, goofed off a little bit, but not too much. Nathan hurried through his, and with us helping him he finished even quicker… he had a hot date with Donnie… yeah… they were actually going on a date. They did that every now and again… I thought it was a really neat idea… I put that into memory to do when Skeeter visited again.

Nathan was out the door in a flash, just as soon as I did his hair for him. He was very, very excited to go and be away for a while. I was very happy for him… just because he was so happy… a fleeting thought passed through my mind that maybe, just maybe, he was free, too.

To be continued

Editor's Notes: Another exciting episode in a story filled with love and triumph, as well as sadness and pain.

Things do seem to be getting closer to working themselves out, to everyone's satisfaction. Or at least I hope so.

I had a feeling that the scumbag wouldn't last all that long, once the other inmates found out what he had done. I am also sure that there was nothing done to keep the information from being spread throughout the institution.

I can hardly wait for the next chapter.

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher

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