Wyatt from ‘I Am Queer’ novel
Wyatt
Thursday
11:19 a.m.
He handed the tall young blond his change and smiled, enjoying the look the young boy gave him as he pocketed his money. There was something so inviting about the boy, almost as if he knew him and yet this was only the second time he had seen him. The boy’s name was Donny and it was a summer job for him, or so Wyatt had found out. Strange, he looked so familiar and yet there was no way that he could have known him yet the way he tossed his head, the way he would cock it sometimes as he looked over the sandwich selection or the candy bar rack. It was all so familiar to him right down to the way his eyes peered at him, sort of from under his long eyelashes.
Each time he looked Wyatt felt a strange stirring in his groin, one of familiarity that defied his minds logic because while Wyatt liked men, he certainly wasn’t about to jeopardize his whole life for some 16 year old. Besides that, he was very happy with his choices, after all not many gays could claim to still be in love with the person they first met over 25 years earlier. Wyatt still felt the same thrill each time he would go home and wait for Arthur to get home. Funny, Arthur had that look too, the way he could just rear back with his head tilted to one side, a small curl of his lips and in that instant Wyatt knew he would melt, and this kid had the same effect on him.
Strange, here he was 50 years old, making a decent living as a catering truck to various job sites and he was still in love with his partner of just over 25 years. Arthur was a dream really, thin and very handsome too even if he was 59 and for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine his life without Arthur and yet here he was, mesmerized by some hot 16 year old baby really. God, to be 16 again he thought as he realized another customer was handing him money. He just smiled at the man who scowled, another regular who despite working as a construction worker carried one hell of a belly on him.
Weird really how everyone thought construction workers were these big beefy men well developed and muscular when in fact most were just as out of shape as the rest of the world. Hell his Arthur was in better shape than the guy he was serving now and as his mind went back to when he first met Arthur, he compared him to the young boy now sitting across from the truck on a stack of raw lumber. The eyes were almost identical really, the hair even seemed the same, the way the one lock floated constantly over the one eye, a sort of rebel look really.
Donny was about 6ft tall, seemed to weigh in at about 145 pounds or so, at least that was Wyatt’s guess and yet there was something about him, the way he moved that kept making Wyatt sneak glances at him. His hair wasn’t exactly long either but it did come to just past his collar on the work shirt he wore. The gloves were way too big for him and yet as he sat there, eating, Wyatt couldn’t help but notice how long his fingers were, how full his lips looked and yet as he stole another glance, he realized that he had the same lips as Arthur did, and he smiled to himself, remembering their last kiss which was only 5 hours earlier. It felt good, and he could still taste it even as he shut his eyes for a second, and then once more he was back into the real world.
He had mentioned the boy to Arthur who kidded him that he was out shopping for a replacement but it wasn’t true; both of them knew that they were too much in love for any young stud to be able to break them up. It had been a rough ride at the start, the divorce that Arthur went through was bad enough and then to be denied visitation rights to see his own son Edward had been almost enough to break them up. Funny, so much had changed and yet so little really. Here it was 2002 and Arthur still was denied his rightful place in his son’s life, and what was worse, his grandchildren’s lives.
Wyatt sighed as he closed the long metal side over his truck, getting ready to head off to his next stop when he stopped, to see a group of the older men walk up to where Donny was sitting. Older men, yeah right, they were maybe at best in their mid twenties but he recognized all four of them and he leaned against the side of his truck wondering just what mischief they were up to. He didn’t like that group; they always were making gay jokes and other racial comments. Hell just last week they had started a fight with one of the new workers simply because the guy was Asian. Christ, when were people going to get it right, that colour, race, sexual choices, all of that didn’t matter anymore?
For the life of him he didn’t know why he cared what happened, or what the gang of mental midgets were up to, but he did care, which was strange. The first time he had seen Donny he was impressed, or maybe the word should be hooked? There was just something about him that attracted his attention, just as Arthur had so many years before. He still, to this day, couldn’t explain what it was that had made him seek Arthur out, made him talk to him and open up to him, but whatever it was, this kid had it too and so he stood by the truck, dawdling because of a feeling.
Donny sat there, lost in thought as he munched away on his sandwich. He couldn’t explain it anymore, and he was tired, tired of the fights and the whole routine with his father. He just couldn’t seem to understand him, the way he kept harping on him to do this, do that, see this person, be nice to that person. It was all like his father was trying to detail his life, second by second and he hated it. Hell even this job had been his father’s idea, a job to give him backbone, to make a man out of him instead of the job he had wanted, the job working at the public library.
Books were his thing, not sawing 2 by 4’s or carrying buckets of nails and other shit to some sweating jerk who only grunted or swore at him. He hated this type of work and yet his father insisted and he just couldn’t refuse. Strange, he had started getting these weird thoughts of standing up to his father, of telling him to leave him alone but each time, every single time that he thought this would be his moment, he backed down, knowing inside that he was just plain chicken. It was no different here, the guys all picked on him because he never once stood up to them. They thought he was different because his old man got him the job, which was true.
The great Edward Reed, the financial whiz had gotten him the job. He still didn’t know how he had convinced the owner to hire him on but he had, and knowing his father it most likely had something to do with pulling the strings. Damn he hated that, the way his dad would throw his weight around when he could get away with it, other times acting like a bloody toady because the other person was higher up or had more money or some other shit. Christ why couldn’t he let him alone? Why did he insist on running his entire life?
His mind was so wrapped up in the misery of his young life that he failed to notice the arrival of the other men. He didn’t see them until he heard the nasal voice of Bart, the one who always seemed to have a hard on for making his life miserable. He hated the guy, the way he ordered him around and called him pussyboy. The other’s were just as bad, calling him a mama’s boy, daddy’s little heir, it all pissed him off but unlike some of the other gophers, he didn’t strike out. Hell, he didn’t like what they said but he hated pain more and so he kept his mouth shut, but damn it, how much was he expected to take? No one else cared, no one bothered to run interference for him even and yet why should they? He knew it was up to him, but how? How did one suddenly change, and what he knew about defending himself you could put on a post it note. No, he would either just have to accept the abuse or else quit, but dear dad wouldn’t hear of that so he was stuck, between who made him feel worse, these jerks or his own father.
The sound of Bart’s voice had startled him and he jumped a little at the sudden sound, which only made everyone laugh, and gave Bart one more weapon to use against him, to humiliate him even further.
Bart “Hey did we scare little Donny?”
Donny “no”
Bart “No? Shit boy you jumped a mile, didn’t he Joe?”
Joe “Sure seemed like it to me Bart”
Bart “Yeah me too, maybe you really ain’t a boy? What do you think guys? Think little Donny here is really a boy or maybe he’s just one of those, what they call em, fruits?”
Sam “Could be Bart, he sure don’t act like any guy I know”
Donny “Leave me alone… I didn’t do anything to you…”
Bart “Aw, gee guys, he wants us to leave him alone? What do you say guys, should we leave him alone? What’s the matter little Donny, afraid to be with real men are you? Afraid we’ll get you all excited or something? Haha”
Sam “Hey better be careful Bart, you may get him all hot and bothered. Haha”
Joe “He might get a stiff one Bart, could hurt himself carrying stuff up the ladder”
Bart “Nah, no pussy boy could get it that hard, could you pussy boy?”
Donny “For a supposed real man you sure seem to want to know a hell of a lot about my dick, how come Bart? You like boy dick?”
The instant he said it he knew he had crossed the line. His whole body started to tremble as he saw the rage grow on Bart’s face, as the other guys howled in laughter, and he felt the fear racing inside of him. He had that knack, of letting his temper get the better of him and despite his desire to stay out of trouble; he just knew that he couldn’t avoid it now.
Bart “Funny, isn’t he funny fellows? Listen punk… I don’t like you, don’t like how your rich old man got you this job and more than that PUNK, I don’t like fags…”
Bart reached out with his two massive hands, yanking Donny up onto his feet and he clenched both of his hands around the open shirt collar, his eyes spitting fire, his mouth spitting spit, as he snarled his words. The others, Sam and Joe both pulled back, a cruel smile crossing their faces as they watched and waited for Bart to make his point to the smart mouthed kid. They all knew that Bart had tried to get the job Donny had for his own kid brother but the big cheese had refused, instead he had hired Donny, which had infuriated Bart. They couldn’t blame him either, this kid was just taking money from those who needed it more or so they thought. Besides he didn’t belong here, he wasn’t one of them and Bart was right too, most likely the kid was queer.
Donny “Let me go”
Bart “Or what? You gonna try and hit me kid? Come on… try it”
Donny knew that if he did he’d get beaten to a pulp but then if he didn’t would it be any different? Would Bart let it go at that or would he still whip his ass? Trust the old man to get him into this mess, why the fuck couldn’t his father just have let him go work at the library? It wasn’t a bad job and the pay was okay, so why did he insist on him taking this fucking job?
Donny “Leave me alone, I didn’t do shit to you”
Bart “Listen to him whine guys, you insulted me punk, that alone gets you a fist full of trouble”
Donny “I am sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it, just leave me alone”
Bart “Oh he’s sorry? Listen to the little queer whine, you are a fruit aren’t you kid? Come on, admit it, you are just a fucking fag”
Donny “I am not, shit, leave me alone”
Donny tried to wiggle out from Bart’s grasp but he just wasn’t strong enough. HIs hands tugged at the strong arms but they couldn’t budge them and the laughter was too much for him. He didn’t know what to do, his fear was roaring inside, deafening his mind to his thoughts and his heart beat a mile a second and all he could think of doing was to try and get away, to avoid the pain that was about to be inflicted.
Bart “Haha, look at the pussy boy guys, he can’t even stop from crying, man this is almost too much”
Wyatt “Leave him alone Bart, you have had your fun”
Bart and the boys turned around to see Wyatt standing a few feet away, his hands at his side but there was something in the quiet of his voice that made Sam and Joe back off a little. This was Bart’s fight for now so they moved to one side, to see how Bart would react.
Bart “Who the fuck are you to tell me to back off?”
Wyatt “Just an interested party Bart, let the kid go, you’ve had your fun”
There was something in Wyatt’s voice and the way he looked that send danger signals to Bart. He noticed how both Sam and Joe moved back, away and he wondered just what this catering truck guy wanted, why he was sticking his nose into this. For a second he felt a twinge of fear, but he quickly tossed it aside as he faced Wyatt, his hands still clutching at Donny’s shirt.
Bart “Why? What business is it of yours?”
Wyatt “He’s a customer, I like to keep my customers eating, you go hitting him, he won’t be buying, okay? Come on, back off”
Bart “Fuck you Mister, Christ that all you Jews can think of isn’t it, making more money”
Just the way he said the word ‘Jew’ made his skin crawl. He knew Bart for having a foul mouth and being a total jerk, but until now he never really realized just how bigoted the bastard was. Wyatt just stared at him, keeping his anger hidden and keeping the slowly bubbling rage inside down, afraid of letting it take hold of him.
Wyatt “Jews? Sorry Bart, I ain’t Jewish”
Bart “You fucking charge like one”
Wyatt “If you mean I give you boys a good deal, yeah, if not, take your trade elsewhere”
Most guys would have backed away from him by now, but this squirt wasn’t budging. It was unusual and made him angry. How the hell did some damn sandwich pusher have the nerve to go up against him? It didn’t make sense and he let his anger grow, his rage becoming evident on his face, his hands turning white as he held tighter onto Donny’s shirt.
Bart “You really want a piece of me? Man what is this, he something to you?”
Wyatt “Nope, just a customer”
Bart “Yeah? What kind of customer, you maybe got a thing for pansies? That it? He give you head or something?”
Wyatt “You know Bart, I really don’t like you, the kid is right, what’s with the fascination with cock? You sure seem to know a hell of a lot about what queers do, how’s that Bart?”
Bart dropped Donny and took several steps towards Wyatt His eyes were blazing with anger as he sputtered and swore at the man. He advanced and stopped as he saw Wyatt bring his hands up, and slowly lift a heavy metal tire iron into one palm, the other end held tightly in his fist. Bart could see the cold glint of anger in Wyatt’s face as he stared at the blue metal rod, his own anger subsiding a little, as his mind finally took hold over his rage.
Bart “This ain’t over lover boy”
He knew he was flirting with danger but he couldn’t help himself. For a brief instant he wondered why he was doing this, and yet that doubt passed quickly as his heart kicked into high gear. The adrenalin pouring into his body and his hands grew hard, his eyes narrowing as he wondered if Donny would help him or would he turn and run now that he was off the hook?
Wyatt “See, there you go again Bart, what is it, you that curious to taste someone’s cock?”
Bart “You mother fucking asshole, I’ll show you…”
Bart moved forward, his anger taking complete charge over his reasoning and Wyatt braced himself, his anger too taking hold but a controlled anger, one that he had kept bottled up for many years. His feet were well planted and he held tightly onto the tire iron in his hand, his eyes narrowing at the on coming man.
Wyatt “Bring it on Bart, I really do want to know what metal against your head sounds like, bring it on tough guy, you and your mouth, spouting your crap all the time, come on, bring it on!”
Sam “He ain’t worth it Bart”
Joe “Yeah, come on, we got work to do”
Bart stared at Wyatt, his nostrils flaring at the man with the tire iron and his eyes narrowed as he glared at Wyatt. It had been a long time since anyone had called him out, a very long time and it was not something he enjoyed. His hands were balled up into fists and his glare was enough to burn holes in steel and yet this catering jerk stood there, defiant and unmoving. It unsettled him as he heard the thump of the iron against Wyatt’s palm and he knew the guy would use it, and that was enough for him. He spat at Wyatt’s feet and turned around to head back to work, gesturing to his two friends to head off. As he walked past Donny, he swung out his hand, pushing the boy on the shoulder, sending him falling backwards into the pile of lumber. He would deal with that punk later.
Wyatt let out a long breath of air as he felt his body slowly go limp. The tension eased as he let the tire iron drop from in front to rest against his leg. He didn’t know why he had stepped in, after all it was none of his business, but still, the kid was just a kid, he didn’t deserve a beating for simply sitting there. He really didn’t understand people like Bart but he also couldn’t understand people like Sam and Joe either. Why they went along with Bart’s bullying was something he just couldn’t accept or fathom really.
Slowly Wyatt headed over to the pile of lumber where Donny was. He saw the fear still in the boy’s eyes and he knew that the kid had been totally panicked by what almost happened. Strange, a 16 year old in good shape like Donny shouldn’t have any trouble dealing with a bully like Bart. In fact, he kind of thought Donny could take the guy, after all he was younger, didn’t look like a drinker or into drugs, so he most likely was in much better shape and sure as hell would be faster, so why did he just take the abuse? It didn’t make sense, but then did anything these days?
Donny’s heart was still beating wildly inside his chest and he was gulping for air as the catering guy came over. He saw the tire iron in his hand and yet all he could see was the man’s face. For some strange reason the guy actually looked worried for him, and that was something he wasn’t used to. Damn he wished his father would be different, wouldn’t be such a hard nose self righteous jerk but then too, maybe he shouldn’t blame the old man, after all his dad had left when he was just 9 or so, for another guy no less. Man he could see how Grandma would have looked, and yet, maybe if he had some of his grandfather’s guts he wouldn’t be getting picked on so much. Maybe even his own father would cut him some slack but it just, well it just didn’t seem like he had that kind of strength or so he felt. The tears rolled down his face as Wyatt came closer and he didn’t know what to say or do, the fear of what might happen after work slowly dawning on him.
For a bit he felt angry at the man, because after work it would be ten times worse than if he had let Bart beat him up now. Instead Bart would make up for being denied that pleasure and where would the catering guy be then? His face grew hard as he almost felt the blows that were sure to come, either after work today or the next. Bart wasn’t the kind to let things lay, and his anger at the man’s interference took hold of him.
Wyatt “You okay?”
Donny “Yeah I guess”
Wyatt snapped his head up at the boy’s tone and stared at him. He couldn’t believe it but he saw anger in the boy’s eyes, anger at him and he felt stunned, unsure of what or why Donny would have that much anger for him? Christ he saved the kid from a beating didn’t he? Looking at Donny he wondered if maybe he had made a big mistake in sticking his nose in and then as he stared at him, saw the deep brown eyes, he knew he couldn’t have walked away. The eyes reminding him so much of his own lover, Arthur and yet as he looked at the boy, he couldn’t see beyond the animosity in his face.
Wyatt “Excuse me for helping”
Donny “Why did you?”
Wyatt “Why? I guess because I don’t like to see some bully beat up on some kid, how’s that for a reason?”
Donny saw the hurt in Wyatt’s face and he also could feel the shame in his own soul as he looked at the man who had stopped him from being hurt. It wasn’t right that he should be angry at him, it was his own fault for shooting off his mouth at least, mainly it was his fault for not being willing to fight back. He let the anger cool and he looked at Wyatt from under his eyelids, watching the older man stare at him. He felt a bit uncomfortable, wondering if what Bart had said could be true, did this guy think of him in that way?
Donny “I am not queer”
Wyatt “Yeah? So who was asking?”
Donny “I just, I mean… fuck, sorry”
Wyatt “Yeah well, forget it”
Donny “No, I mean, it is just the way you were looking at me, I thought, uh…”
Wyatt “Huh? Oh, sorry, no you just look like a friend of mine, well not really, I mean my friend is older, just that you look like, well what he must have looked like when he was your age, didn’t mean to stare”
Donny stared at the ground, shuffling his feet as he felt the embarrassment of the whole thing. He had almost accused the guy who saved his ass of checking him out and while he didn’t look bad, he just, well it was confusing to him. For the life of him he didn’t know if he was or wasn’t queer, all the talk about guys and dicks had sort of given him a strange thrill and yet he was petrified of it being true. Just what he needed, to be a queer and have everyone know it but him? Besides, the guy had saved his ass, least for now.
Donny “That’s okay, I guess I am not very, just that, I don’t know, fuck this sucks man”
Wyatt “Yeah, you maybe uh, you not planning on staying here are you?”
Donny “Have to, my dad will blow a gasket if I quit”
Wyatt “Surely if you explain the circumstances…”
Donny “you don’t know my old man, you don’t explain nothing to him, he’d just tell me to suck it up and be a man, like it isn’t his face getting beaten on”
Wyatt “No, guess not, but if you stay…”
Donny “Yeah, I get thumped, leave and get it from the old man”
Wyatt “Look, uh none of my business kid, Donny isn’t it?”
Donny “Yeah Donny Neiman, sorry”
Wyatt “That’s okay, I am Wyatt, Wyatt Silvers, look, why not just take your chances at home, I mean your dad, he won’t beat you will he?”
Donny “Dad? Haha, no, not with his hands but… shit I don’t know, how do you, I mean, when do you know… fuck, sorry”
Looking at the anguish in the boy’s face he felt a strange tug at his heart. It wasn’t that he was a saint, he knew that Donny was a good looking kid and if he wasn’t so much in love with Arthur there would be little doubt that he’d like a try for Donny, despite his age, but he was in love with Arthur. Still, as Arthur and hell all their friends said, just cause they were older didn’t mean they couldn’t appreciate the beauty of youth, and there was no doubt that Donny was a hottie. Strange though, as much as he looked like the perfect dream boy, there was something about him that still troubled Wyatt. It was as if he knew the kid and yet really he didn’t. Strange too that he would risk it all to step in between this kid and Bart. He knew too that he would have to decide if he even wanted to continue to stop by this site, because if he knew anything, he knew that Bart wasn’t the type to let it go. That made him frown a little as he stared at the confused and frightened youth before him.
Wyatt “That’s okay, when do you know what?”
Donny “When do you know what to do? I mean… I…”
Wyatt “I don’t know, you just do I guess, sort of comes with age, hell I am 50 and wonder at times, you just, I don’t know, you just sort of listen to what your heart tells you, hope its right and go on if it isn’t.”
Donny “Yeah, easy to say but…”
Wyatt “Yeah, real easy to say, damned hard to do though, look, you really shouldn’t hang around here, Bart isn’t the type to forget.”
Donny “I have to, guess it’s time I took it like a man, least that’s what the old man would say.”
Wyatt “Yeah, well parents aren’t always right, but, look, here, this is my card, has my home number on it, if you need to talk… just talk, okay?”
Donny stared at the white card with black printing on it. He didn’t know why, but he took it and looked up into the man’s face. For whatever reason the guy was showing an interest in him, maybe it was for the reason that Bart implied, maybe not, but whatever the reason, this was the first real adult who seemed to actually care what happened to him.
His own father was too busy pushing him, trying to manipulate him into being something he wasn’t. He didn’t think he was queer, but then he didn’t know. He had had a few girlfriends and they had messed around some. It felt okay, strange and all, specially when that one had reached into his pants and touched him, the feeling was weird and all, and he did get hard and all the rest, but while everyone else he knew had long lost their virginity he still hadn’t even been naked with a girl. Oh he’d touched a few breasts, even managed to get his finger up one girl’s cunt, but it never seemed to go further, like his heart just wasn’t in it.
Maybe Bart and his dad were right, maybe he did prefer guys but how was he to know? He had never been with a guy, hell he was to scared to even think about trying it, but taking the card from Wyatt, he wondered if maybe this guy at least would listen to him, would maybe help him understand. He lifted his face, tears running down his face as he stared into Wyatt’s green eyes. He saw something there that felt good, that seemed to reach out to him and yet it wasn’t sexual, least he didn’t think it was.
Wyatt saw the look, saw the way Donny’s lower lip trembled and his heart reached out to the boy, feeling his pain and his uncertainty. Christ it was hard enough these days just to be a straight kid, never mind perhaps being gay too. For a second or less he felt the fear in Donny and the sadness too. It was strange, to feel that instant of emotions, something he only felt when with Arthur and yet here he was, feeling it with a strange kid. It unsettled him a bit and he quickly pressed the business card into Donny’s hand, letting his own fall to his side quickly.
Donny “Thanks, uh…”
Wyatt “Yeah, no sweat, look I have to get to the next site, you sure you don’t want to take off from here? I can give you lift to town, or to the bus stop…”
Donny “No, I think… shit I don’t know, I just… I’ll stay, maybe it’ll work out okay if I just haul ass right after work… but thanks, uh, Wyatt?”
Wyatt “Yeah… okay, well… “
3:15 p.m.
Arthur stared at the window in his tiny backroom office. The shop was empty except for Sheldon who was busy arranging the floral display for the Harding wedding. Another wedding and he wondered if the poor sap would have a better time of it than he had so many years ago. Strange, here he was, 59 years old and rather successful in his chosen profession of being a florist. He had even won a couple of awards for his unique floral arrangements, even had the contract to do the arrangements for the City the last nine years and each time he had a wedding order he got into one of these moods.
It wasn’t that he was opposed to marriage; he had tried it a long time ago. Hell right out of high school he had thought how in love he was with Melissa Green and had pursued her until she had said ‘yes’ to his proposal. It had taken him almost 10 years of living with her to realize that he wasn’t cut out for the straight life. The call of hot male bodies had been too much for him, despite the fact he had helped sire a boy, Edward the first time out, so to speak. Strange, he loved his boy, was a complete doting father and yet, he just couldn’t contain the desires in his own soul.
He knew that Melissa had been hurt by him, that his announcement that he couldn’t deny who he was anymore had deeply cut into her, but he never realized just how much he had hurt her until the divorce had been final. She had been amiable or so it seemed and he hadn’t really contested anything. It wasn’t until about three or four years later, when she started to go with Vick that things changed. Visitation with Edward suddenly became awkward moments, and then finally they simply became unbearable. She would question him to the nth degree as to where he was taking him, what they talked about, what they did, and he never had a clue until the process server gave him the papers what it was all about.
Sitting there now, he still felt the hurt as he had read the papers, an emergency request for sole custody of Edward and a denial of visitation rights on the grounds that he was a potential risk to Edward, that he might be sexually abusing his own child. It had sent chills down his spine and his first instinct had been to call her, to yell and shout his innocence to her and the world, but he had calmed down enough to at least get a lawyer. The trouble was, he didn’t even think the lawyer believed him that he would never hurt or touch Edward in the way his ex-wife suggested. It just was unthinkable to him, and yet a judge didn’t see it that way, and so he lost his rights and for the next 5 years he fought to get back into his son’s life, failing each time as the system continued to ignore him. He was openly gay, that was enough in the court’s eyes to see him as a potential risk towards his own son.
Edward and him had a relationship, a good one he had thought until Edward turned 21, when no court order could decide if he could see him or not, only Edward could do that and he had tried, feeling that at least Edward would know he wasn’t a child abuser. The call had been short, and he still could hear his son’s angry words, telling him he wanted nothing to do with a faggot, that he was glad his mother had stopped him from seeing him, and the anger was so harsh, so real that it had stunned him. Arthur hadn’t counted on that, hadn’t thought that all the time he had been trying to regain his rights, that she had been filling his son with wild untruths, yet she had and worse, he had believed them.
Looking out at Sheldon, he wondered how different things might have been if it hadn’t been for Wyatt? He had met him in a bar of course, as if there was any other place for a gay person to find solace with other gays? Back then it was about it, oh sure there were the odd social club and gathering, but not like you could let your hair down like you could in the bar scene. Life was so different back then, sex was the high ruler of gay life and yet for him it had never really been about the sex, though he had his share of one night stands, instead it was simply the ability to share common interests with another person who understood the same wants, the same needs. That was all it was for him and Wyatt had been that person.
Thinking about it, he smiled a little, remembering how Wyatt had pursued him, had doted on him really and how impressed he had been with the younger man. Wyatt had been just 22 or so, he had been almost 30 and yet Wyatt seemed the older of them both. He was the one who refused to party all night long, instead wanting to go for walks at night, go to movies and then to sit back and just talk on a park bench or something like that. It was so different, so unique that he couldn’t help but fall for the charm and for the person. It was what he wanted too, and even though he let Wyatt think he had been the pursuer, he knew that he had done his fair share of pursuing as well. He wanted the freshness, the eagerness of life that Wyatt exhibited and so he had gone along, and here he was now, a man of 59 who had been faithful to one person for over 25 years.
In just about 6 weeks they would be celebrating 27 years of living together as a couple. Not many in the straight world could claim that these days but he could, and yet as he watched Sheldon put the finishing touches on the wedding bouquet, he felt cheated, knowing that here was a couple, a guy and a girl, about to be given the ultimate benefit of acceptance, of legitimacy through a wedding ceremony and the odds were that they wouldn’t remain together for more than 10 years or so and he, a man who was faithful to one person for 27 years couldn’t have the same rights, the same acceptance. So much for a ‘tolerant society’ but then what did he expect?
Arthur stood up and walked out to the front area, gathering up some carnations, roses, and other assorted flowers, and he sat them down and began to whistle. Society may not accept what he and Wyatt shared, but fuck them, he had Wyatt and that was what really mattered as he began to put together a creation borne out of the love that filled his heart. He could see Wyatt’s face, the way his green eyes sparkled when they would see each other at the end of the work day, the way his head would tilt as he listened to Arthur tell him about work, the way he would get excited when he would tell Arthur about his day, or how he had this new idea for a sandwich or something else. He saw it all as his fingers pulled, prodded and snipped at the flowers and accruements, as he let his love design the arrangement, the one he would take home with him tonight, because tonight wasn’t any special date, but then it was. After all, he was coming home to Wyatt and that made each day special.
7:22 p.m.
The whole house echoed to the sounds of music, soft warm music that just helped keep the mood alive and happening. In the kitchen the dinner dishes sat in the now cooling water, the suds barely noticeable now and yet the room still held a warmth to it. The kitchen table clean as they had eaten in the dining room this time. There on the large dark wooden table sat the bouquet of flowers, a few desert plates all that remained of the night’s meal. The wine goblets were gone, not in the kitchen, not on the dining room table, not even in the living room where the music came from. Up the stairs off to one side was where the wine goblets rested, almost empty they sat on the end table on one side of the queen sized bed.
Wyatt rested on one elbow, his hand barely touching the warm body next to him, his free hand gently touching the side of Arthur’s body. His eyes were still filled with the love and desire that he had for his lover and he could feel the warm sweet breath of him against his own face as they just lay there, each on their side staring at the other. Two filled condoms rested on either side of the bed, the half empty box still near by as this was definitely one of those nights.
Arthur couldn’t believe the passion and desire he still felt for the man next to him. Wyatt’s body may not have that youthful 22-year-old shine it had when they first met, nor was his stomach quite so flat and taut but then neither was his own body quite so lean, quite so flat as it had been 28 years ago when they first met. Strange, they had met and talked and gone to the bars but it had taken them almost an entire month of seeing each other, of calling each other before they had first ventured into the domain that they now ended most every night in; the domain of intimacy, which included but was never limited to just sex.
Here he was, 59 years old and he never felt so alive as he did each night when they would come together in this bed. It was a gift to themselves on their 15th year together, and while the bed may sag in spots, had many stains even, it fit them to a tee and Arthur felt so much here, so alive that it still amazed him and as he stared deeply into Wyatt’s green shining eyes, he could see the fires burning within his lover’s soul, feel their passion, their heat even as he just looked at him. Deep inside he knew that he had made the right choice so many years ago, to stop pretending he was someone he wasn’t, to be who he was and this was his reward, a life with a person that shared his heart, his soul. As much as he wished he could have a relationship with his son, he knew that he couldn’t deny who he was just to please some outdated notion of what a family was. This was more of a home than most, and he reached out with his own long arm, his fingers gently running down the small tufts of chest hair, feeling the warm flesh shudder a little to his touch, even after all of these years he could still excite Wyatt and it made him tingle all over. It was an amazing feeling, to know that after so many years the love not only existed, but was even stronger now than it had been so long ago.
Wyatt felt the love that Arthur had for him with each touch of Arthur’s fingers against his body. Each hair on his chest tingled and made him flush with desire. Here he was, acting like a teenager really, feeling giddy and all excited just from this man’s gentle touch against his body. He could feel the hardness of his penis, feel its desire welling up with each beat of his heart and he knew without looking that Arthur’s own penis was rock hard too, even dripping some of that wonderful milk that would soon fill him with its tangy sweetness. God how he loved this man, more now than 28 years ago when he first laid eyes on him. The way those dark rich brown eyes simply devoured him the instant he walked in was unreal, the way the look would make him weak at the knees even now, and he let his hand roam a bit further down, to rest against Arthur’s fleshy hip. He could still feel the bone underneath it, the quivering muscles that surrounded it and he sighed, feeling so content, so at ease that he thought about pinching himself, just to make sure this wasn’t a wild wonderful dream.
His toes flexed against the top of Arthur’s foot and he felt the sudden shudder, the sudden tensing of muscles and his smile grew wider as he looked hard and deep into the deep brown eyes, seeing the liquid pools of pure chocolate shimmering, the glint from the small night table light gleaming among the pools of love that waited there for him. His heart fluttered a little and his pulse raced a bit faster as he snuggled inwards a bit closer, the tip of his own hard 7 inch long cock brushing every so lightly against the thigh of his lover. He felt the heat flash between them and the smile grew wider, teeth glinting from his opened lips. Wyatt saw the way Arthur moved, his hand now pushing down to his belly, to play with the ample flesh that shook to the touch, jiggled to the press of Arthur’s long tapered fingers.
It was like his heart was melting as he saw the way Arthur kept peering at him from under his long eyelashes. It was totally mesmerizing to him and it made his heart skip a beat or two each time the long dark lashes fluttered, showing briefly the warm rich inviting eyes and he leaned forward, no longer able to contain his desire. His lips, thin and moist lightly brushed up against Arthur’s full mouth, tasting the saltiness that caked the lips, knowing it was from his own body and yet not because now it had mingled with Arthur’s own saliva. He sighed, feeling the love warming his soul, holding it tenderly in its strong pulsing palms. His body shook as he felt the press of his own hard 7 inch cock against the thighs, feeling it press down as Arthur’s thigh moved up, his one leg now reaching over his, the brush of his leg hairs caressing his own and then the touch of flesh, the hot sizzling touch and he closed his eyes, letting his lips press harder against Arthur’s mouth.
His mouth opened slowly at first, letting the lips part slowly despite the hard press of the flicking tongue but he denied it at first, forcing it to lick at the lips, bang against the firm teeth and then only when his legs was fully over Wyatt’s, did Arthur let his mouth open. He felt the sudden rush of warm air as Wyatt’s tongue flicked inwards, filling the open cavity with its thickness. He sucked back on his breath, drinking in the warm air that came from Wyatt’s mouth and at the same time pulling the hot throbbing tongue in deeper, urging it by his own tongue to press hard and deep into his mouth, past his palette and down to the walls of his throat.
As his tongue delved deep down Arthur’s throat, Wyatt’s hand moved down the leg, then pulled upwards along the inside, feeling the growing warmth as his hand moved closer to the throbbing organ the pulsed there, waiting for his touch. His mind grew dark as his heart began to beat wildly inside his chest. His breath became shorter as he struggled to breathe. His body began to tremble all over once more as he shook to the powerful hold that Arthur had on his lower legs. He felt the legs crushing down on his, holding him in place as Arthur’s hands now groped at his own steaming body. His flesh grew hotter with each passing second as his tongue continued to delve deep into the warm moist mouth, tasting the saltiness, feeling the hot desire coming up from deep within Arthur’s body.
His eyes opened for a brief moment, taking in the sweating forehead of his lover, the silver tinge around his temples, the wavy lock of hair that hung down over one eye, the fluttering eyelashes, all of it only adding to his desire even more. His heart felt like bursting as his fingers touched the raw hot flesh of Arthur’s dripping cock, felt its heat singe his finger tips and yet he didn’t pull back, didn’t stop his own relentless drive forward, his body moving in closer, squeezing his hand on the mound of throbbing flesh between Arthur’s legs. Wyatt’s hard cock pressed upwards, the bottom of his shaft resting along a trail of his own pre cum that coated the inside thigh of his lover. His whole body was slowly turning towards its inevitable union with Arthur’s.
Tears of pure joy trickled down out of the corners of his shut eyes, mingled with the growing stream of sweat that run from his forehead as he nestled inwards, his arms groping between Arthur’s legs, pulling, touching, feeling all that was there for him. His mind no longer troubled by anything as the pure love of their souls began to dance together, to sing in a growing crescendo of love. It was like it always was and yet each time seemed so different, so much more as his body shook, his legs trembled, his heart quaked. This was love and the world could be damned for all he cared as his tongue touched deep within Arthur’s throat. He felt the love welling up from within, reaching upwards to greet his own as his hand surrounded the 1 ¾ inch thick cock that pulsed between his fingers.
It was like holding a beating heart in his hands, the way the hard flesh pulsed and moved, the way his fingers could actually feel the fast furious flow of blood thru the swollen member of the veins and all he could think of was how wonderfully hot it felt, how much it felt like his own heart, pounding and pulsing deep inside of his chest. This was how he had always wanted love to feel, to be and here he was, actually feeling it and he became more aroused, hotter and sweaty as his mouth crushed hard against Arthur’s. His tongue licked deep and long and he groaned as he felt Arthur throwing his body hard into his. The press of his weight against his own was like an anvil being struck by Thor’s Hammer.
His head echoed to the wild ringing sensation of his blood draining furiously from his brain to his groin, his hands moved like automons, no longer under control by his mind, their direction seeming helter skelter and yet they had a purpose as his heart filled with the simple desire to taste Arthur. He moved his mouth off of Arthur’s, his lips pressing into the small cleft of Arthur’s chin, tasting the sweat and saliva that was dripping down. Wyatt breathed in deeply, smelling that arousing scent that made his loins yearn for more, made his lungs drink in more and more of the powerful aroma.
Every nerve in his body began to tingle and stretch. Every muscle began to coil and tighten as his body ached now for the love that rested within Arthur and his souls. He could feel the beat now, the single beat of his heart and the echo that wasn’t an echo, instead he knew it was the sound of Arthur’s heart, and slowly as he kissed the underside of Arthur’s chin, tasting him, savouring the flavour, he felt the two beats growing, coming closer to becoming just one single resounding thunder clap.
His hands pushed against the well defined chest of his lover, he felt the sweat, the sticky hot sweat as he pushed and kept his mouth pressed up to the hollow of Arthur’s neck. Wyatt heard the soft moan slowly drifting from those precious lips of his man, and he could feel the heat between their bodies rise. His heart was beating faster, as was Arthur’s and he could feel it, even hear the rising chorus of love as it rang within each of their souls. Nothing else could penetrate it now; nothing else could intrude as his body now pushed along with his hands and Arthur’s body surrendered to the urgent press of his desires.
Wyatt’s body lay on top, his legs now stretched to rest inside of Arthur’s legs, his hard 7 inches of manhood pushing into the soft belly of Arthur’s groin. He could feel the hot sticky pre cum from Arthur’s own 6 ¾ inch pole as it slid along the side of his groin, pressing into his full balls, making him ache even more for the taste of that sweet salty nectar. His mind saw strange images floating past in a gentle swirl of blue mist, his eyes were closed but he could see it all as his mouth moved urgently down from under the neck, to the very start of the soft gentle wisps of hair that grew along the centre of Arthur’s chest. Once more his nostrils flared as he breathed in the heavenly scent of his lover, feeling its special power reach deep into his quivering body. His balls ached from the desire and he felt the scent running up and down his spine as his mouth continued to taste that sweet sweaty flesh.
Every part of his body ached now as his hands roamed at will. One minute they were rubbing the hard sides of Arthur, another instant they were gently circling the hard ruby red nipples, circling and lightly touching the hard firm flesh then like a shot they were caressing the warm shaking belly and then up to hold the firm arms in place while his mouth continued on its own journey of exploration. His lips touched and kissed, bit hard and then nibbled lightly as his whole being was centred on the ache that stuck deep into his groin. He could feel the head swelling, feel the blood circulating through the flesh as he shivered, his hips gyrating ever so slowly from side to side, rubbing Arthur’s groin with his own.
Each motion was like part of a surreal dance to his mind. Every time he touched a part of Arthur or each time Arthur touched him, he felt a whole new world opening up before him. One minute he was back in time, sitting on a park bench with his fingers lightly touching Arthur’s, his eyes everywhere but looking at Arthur. Another second he was back on the beaches of Hawaii where they had celebrated their 25th anniversary together, another minute he was seeing the way Arthur had looked at him just this morning, the love so deep and vibrant in his face and in his voice as they kissed goodbye, all of it played before him as his body slowly slid down the lanky frame of the older man. Slowly his legs dangled over the bottom edge of the bed, as his face tasted the rivers of sweat that flowed past his pressed lips. He could feel the muscles deep within the stomach, the way they constricted and moved and yet he could sense the change, sense the growing desire coming into his own body. His sweat mingled and ran freely with that of Arthur’s.
Wyatt held his breath as his lips moved down to the soft underbelly of skin, tasting and smelling its unique scent. He felt so alive in that instant, so full of life that tears of pure happiness rolled down his face, joining the growing pools of sweat. His heart sank out, now beating in tune with Arthur’s own joyous heart. He heard the soft murmurs of love escaping the pursed lips of his man and he could feel his love, feel it pressing him from all sides, even against his back and he knew they were once more in that very special zone, that very special haven that was reserved just for them. He cried now as his hands pushed aside the warm moist thighs, his head raised as he opened his eyes, to revel in the beauty of the man he called LOVER.
His face shone with pure adoration as his eyes gobbled up the scene before him. He could see the tiny hairs shimmering in the light; each one coated with sweat and his own saliva and in the centre of it stood proudly the 1-¾ inch thick, 6 ¾ inch long pole of desire. It jerked freely in the air, a long thick trail of grey white pre cum rolled slowly down the side, and he felt so alive, so happy that he tossed his head back to stare up the long body, to look quickly into the deep rich eyes of his lover. They locked for a brief moment, scenes of total love passed before him, tender moments from 27 years of loving each other flashed across his eyes and thru it all he saw the rich pools of chocolate. His heart quivered, his legs trembled as his eyes stared into Arthur’s, feeling the love, seeing it even as it reached out to surround him.
The look was etched on his memory as he closed his eyes and lowered his head, the mouth opened wide as he lunged down, his lips cruising past the suddenly entrapped pole, the thick pre cum lubricating his lips and mouth as he filled his desire in one swell swoop. He felt the hot flesh touch the roof of his mouth and then slide eagerly down past his upper palette towards his throat and he tasted it, felt the flavour even as his lips tightened their hold on the throbbing organ that was encased in his mouth. He groaned as he heard the short shift escape of air from Arthur’s own mouth, felt the sudden tenseness in the muscles around him as Arthur’s body had been surprised by his quick move.
Wyatt could feel the tremendous excitement inside of Arthur’s body as his mouth pushed past every inch of the hot throbbing pole to finally rest against the heaving groin of his lover. He smelled the rich aroma of his man, revelling in its uniqueness, its scent, its power and his mind reeled, his heart thundered as the parade of his past with this man went cascading before his shut eyes. He saw it all, the tears rolling down Arthur’s face when one more lawyer told him it was useless to pursue custody or visitation, the anquish in the middle of the night as Arthur would wake up calling for Edward his son, the glory when he had read the news of Edwards promotion in the banking field, of his successes even though the boy now man had rejected him. The pride that filled Arthur even though the son had turned, it hadn’t changed Arthur’s love for him and that dogged determination, that faithfulness was something that only made his love for Arthur even greater.
He could feel the balls trembling as his fingers prodded them, as his hand moved up the shaking flesh of Arthur’s stomach, to reach up and push at the thick hard nipple and then push to one side, to feel the rise and fall of the heaving chest as his own excitement grew. His mouth moved up and down the slicked trembling pole of love that filled his mouth with its fiery flames. His body moved on its own, his hands roaming at will, touching, pressing, squeezing, his mouth riding the pole of love in increasing speed, his fingers digging into the warm sweaty flesh, even his legs tingles as his mind conjured up the love they shared for over a quarter of a century. He saw the horror of the world, the bombings in Beirut, the horrors of war in the Gulf, all of it passed before him and his heart trembled at the insanity of man and yet at the same time he felt the confidence that it would all work out, that what the world was wasn’t his world, not all of it at least.
Wyatt could taste the growing seed in his mouth, the hot sweat salty taste and as his mind grabbled with everything flashing before him, there was Arthur through it all, standing next to him, sitting next to him, holding his hand, touching his brow, caressing his aching spirit and he sighed, feeling the love cradle his tortured soul in its grasp. Nothing escaped his vision and the eyes, they burned through every image, the rich pools of chocolate and behind them floated Arthur’s lean face. The way his chin stood out when he was wrapped up in a heated debate, the way his lower lip would tremble as fear came to him. It all passed before him but there was something different, a new image began to intrude, a fresher face that was clouded but the eyes, they were the same, and his heart suddenly roared, his body arched and his mouth crushed down hard into Arthur’s groin, his lips and mouth pressing past the soft flesh, the dark wiry pubic hairs pushing past him, impaling themselves into his own face and nose.
The eyes began to haunt him as he felt Arthur’s body arching upwards, the hard press of flesh against flesh torturing his whole central nervous system with its insistent cry for more. His muscles ached from the tight hold they had on his body, his bones screamed in agony from the wrenching pain as Arthur’s groin pressed up and Wyatt’s head pressed down. The 6 ¾ inch long pole jerked hard at the walls of Wyatt’s throat and he could feel the vein bulging as the blood rushed from every one of Arthur’s extremities towards that throbbing organ. His own breathing became short shallow gasps for oxygen. His mind reeled as the image of Arthur’s face hidden behind the dark loving eyes was mixed with another pair of troubled chocolate eyes. They were different and yet they were the same. His heart stuttered, his mind flashed a sudden image of Arthur, staring at him, and yet it wasn’t Arthur, it was Donny and his heart rang out in tremendous shriek.
The sudden rush of thick heavy cream suddenly swamped his mouth and his body shook uncontrollably as his own body shuddered and shook, his own organ lodged against the lower leg of his lover began to burn and throb on its own. His arm grew numb as his legs were suddenly like steel beams, rigid and hard and his toes curled as he began to taste the saltiness of the cream that flooded his mouth. The ache in his limbs were growing and yet even as the pain rose, the love he had for Arthur was more intense, more vocal in its demand and he forgot all about the pain, as the joy filled his very soul. He could hear the strident chords ring out within, the sweet notes of love coming to his mind from everywhere within and without his whole body. He heard the rich tones of Arthur’s voice joining the chorus even as Arthur’s body flung upwards again, the hips pushing his head upwards a bit as Arthur’s buttocks lifted high up off the shaking mattress.
There amongst the flashes of blue bolts of lightning, he saw Arthur holding him, both of them bathed in the warm waters of their love and the deep dark chocolate of their desire and commitment surrounded them both. He saw it all in a flash and yet not all, off in the distance was another figure, struggling to reach them and it gave him a slight pause, a slight hitch even as Arthur’s throbbing organ shook one more time and reared backwards for a single instant. He saw the figure trying to reach them, to come to the centre of their universe and he saw Arthur’s smile now, but it wasn’t Arthur, it was the strange figure and he cried out in a gurgled voice. The joy he was feeling was suddenly heightened, his body shuddered as he felt the final thrust of Arthur’s body upwards, felt the hard banging of that wonderful pole as it struck the back of his throat one last time and the hot heavy cream came cascading out once more, one more volley of pure love came streaming out to fill his demanding need.
The cry of love echoed loudly in the dark swirling mists of their room. The bed added its own special noise to the din as Wyatt cried out, his voice joined by the shout coming from Arthur’s trembling lips. The sounds mingled together as their bodies suddenly released all that they had within, the love so full, so rich, dripping down one side of Arthur’s legs, more slowly dripping from the corners of Wyatt’s mouth. The thick cream that carried their love for each other slowly drying against the cooling flesh of their bodies. It was over and yet it had only begun. Wyatt could feel the strength coming to him, the power that was Arthur’s determination, the courage to once more reach for the stars that came from deep within Arthur’s soul and it joined with his own soul, giving him the answers, giving him the peace that could only come when their souls became one.
His head rested on the soft cleft between Arthur’s leg and groin, his eyes still clouded by the tears of joy that had rolled down his face. He could see the soft limp mound of flesh that had so recently throbbed inside of his mouth and he smiled, knowing that a touch would bring it back to life, just as the thought of that was even causing his own limp pole to stir again. God, he thought, what a life he had been given and he raised his head, to stare up Arthur’s body, to see the man he loved staring down at him, a hand resting on the back of his head, feeling the love with each caress of the fingers in his short thinning hair. This was indeed love and as he smiled, he felt the arms opening up and he slid back up the warm body, to nestle once more in his lover’s arms.
They kissed lightly now, the dried cream only reminding them of their passion for each other and yet as he kissed him, Wyatt could see that distant figure again and a strange frown flashed across his serene face. His eyes grew a bit troubled as he wondered about it, and he knew that the moment had passed for now, that he was no longer locked safely in the private world of his love for Arthur.
Arthur “I love you”
Wyatt “No, really? I’d never have guessed…. stud”
Arthur “Yeah right, so, what is it?”
Wyatt “That kid, it’s bugging me”
Arthur “Yeah? Tell me”
Wyatt propped himself up a bit to look down into Arthur’s face. He saw the marks of age around the eyes, the grey around the temples growing with each passing day, the soft grey tones on the stubble of his face and yet in that very moment, he also saw the man he had spotted sitting at a table with his back to the wall in a bar 28 years ago. He saw the fire in the eyes and he also saw the sorrow, the pain, the confusion and in that moment he also saw the look, the same look he had seen only this morning. He put his head down on Arthur’s shoulder, staring into Arthur’s turned face and he began to tell him all that had happened. As his words grew in number, he felt the arms of his lover close around him, holding him tightly in their grip, holding him safe from the world’s cruelty and injustice. He snuggled into Arthur’s body, feeling the warmth and shelter it gave him as he began to tell him about Donny and Bart.