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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Walls - 4. November 2014

With a steady stream of family members arriving over the coming days, CJ knew his time would be in high demand and decided to take advantage of his free morning. On Saturday before Thanksgiving Day, he spent almost three hours working out at Yates Field House on Georgetown University's campus; he suspected there wouldn’t be enough hours in the day to do so again until the visitors left. The athletic facility his fathers and he used was a state-of-the-art complex catering primarily to students, faculty, administrators, and staff of the institution, which offered memberships for purchase to members of the surrounding community.

He returned home sweaty and sore, but feeling energized. Following a long shower, he and his fathers walked down their street to Booeymonger for subs. The dads had suggested going out to lunch so the three of them could talk before the onslaught of house guests began descending on them the following day. In reality it would be a trickle; people would be arriving every day through Wednesday.

Brett looked at the sky as they approached the iconic sub shop at the corner of Prospect and Potomac Streets which had been popular with university students for decades. “It looks like it’s going to rain. Maybe we should get lunch to go.”

“Nah, I checked my phone and it’s not going to rain. Cloudy and cool for sure, but it feels nice so we can sit outside.”

“Listen to you.” César laughed and clasped his son’s shoulder. “A year ago you’d be bitching and complaining about how cold it was. And here you are today, wearing a t-shirt and your hoodie’s not even zipped up all the way.”

CJ chuckled and pulled the sweatshirt’s cowl over his head. “Yeah, well, things change. But you have to admit this morning it was freezing. Literally. The temp was like twenty-seven.”

“You just reminded me of something. We should take the down comforter out of the guest room closet and run it through the dryer to freshen it up. Mami and Papi will definitely want it and I forgot to ask Ana to do it yesterday when she cleaned.”

“I’ll do it as soon as we get back, Dad. I’m spending the rest of the day studying. I’m gonna skip school Wednesday, okay? I wanna take the abuelos on a little tour of the monuments.”

“No exams?” Brett asked.

“Nope. Half the school takes it off anyway. Teachers know better than schedule anything important the day before a holiday. So what did you guys wanna talk about?”

“Brett and I want to ask you a favor.”

“Sure, whatever. You know that. What do you want me to do?”

“We’re putting your grandparents in the second floor guest room. Rod will get one of the two small ones in the basement and we’d like you to move into the other one for the weekend. We’ll give yours to Lynne and Rico, and the big one downstairs to Randy and Tyler.”

“Definitely!” CJ almost jumped in his seat he was so excited. “That’d be awesome. Between the pool table, the game consoles, and the giant TV, we’ll prolly end up down there a lot anyway.”

“Good, you can move bathroom junk and clothes down tomorrow. That way it’ll be ready for them after it gets cleaned on Monday. Don’t worry too much about the clothes, though. If you need something you can always get it later.”

• • •

CJ sat on the couch, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching people go by on the sidewalk. A book lay on the seat next to him, discarded after he’d grown bored with it. He hit the remote control for the new cabinet his fathers had bought as part of the recent remodeling and watched the top slide open allowing the TV hidden inside to rise. He turned it on, flipped channels until he found a football game, and settled in to wait.

During the first commercial break he rose wondering where his dad was, and walked towards the fireplace to make sure the kindling and logs he’d laid down earlier were all ready to light. The temperature was in the upper fifties—not very cold at all—but he knew his grandparents were not used to the chilly weather and it was supposed to get colder at nightfall.

César had gone to National Airport to pick them up and CJ was wondering what was taking them so long. Another look at his phone let him know a mere five minutes had elapsed since he’d last checked. What the heck was the hold-up? He considered calling somebody to chat while he waited, but decided against it. The person he wanted to talk to was Owen but he couldn’t call the Aussie. The fucker was studying with Ethan once again. He’d met Ethan Fucking Feldman before and didn’t much care for the guy. The man was smart―Owen told CJ his fellow law school student graduated summa cum laude from his undergraduate college. He was tall―taller even than Owen who CJ felt towered above him already. Built like a brick shithouse―CJ had seen him without a shirt. He’d come over and joined him, Owen, and the Kennedy brothers in a game of touch football one afternoon. Ethan had model good looks and worst of all was gay. CJ noticed the way he looked at Owen, how he sat close enough to the Aussie so their bodies came into contact, and how he invited Ozzie to study at his apartment near the school. He didn’t relish the idea of those two alone.

“Hey buddy, come help me with the luggage?” César’s comment snapped CJ out of his reverie and he jumped off the couch. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he’d failed to see his dad’s SUV drive by or hear the back door open.

Campeón!” His grandfather had called him “champ” for as long as he could remember and the word always made him feel warm inside. And loved. He missed seeing his grandparents on a regular basis.

He walked towards Sebastián and gave him a hug while looking out the door to see his father walking back toward the garage. “Hi, Abuelo.”

“Go say hello to your grandmother and give your dad a hand. My foolish son wouldn’t let me carry anything except for this.” The man stepped closer to the kitchen counter and placed a medium sized cooler on it. “We brought crabs from Joe’s for dinner.”

“Awesome! I haven’t had stone crabs in months.” He helped carry several pieces of luggage up to the second floor, wondering what the heck his grandparents had in them. They were spending ten days in Washington but it seemed as if they had brought enough clothes for a month.

“I don’t like it,” Rosario said, following her grandson back down the stairs once he’d helped the older couple get settled in their room.

“What’s that, Abuela?”

“You and your father with those mustaches. You’re both so good looking I don’t understand why you want to hide your faces.”

“Better get used to it, Abuela. Papa’ got one too. And so do all our friends. It’s Movember. Come on, you gotta see how the basement looks after the remodeling.”

“What is Movember?” CJ’s grandmother stepped through the door he held open for her, grabbed the banister, and made her way downstairs taking each step with care. “Last time I was here this place was a mess. Old furniture and boxes all―Oh my!”

“Nice, eh? Movember’s a tradition started about ten years ago. A foundation encourages men to grow mustaches for the month of November to raise money and awareness of men’s health issues. Kinda like the pink ribbon with breast cancer and women’s health.”

“This thing’s for November? So you’ll shave it next week?”

“Nah. Dad and Papa will prolly shave, but I think I’ll grow a full beard while the weather’s cold. What do you think?”

“Of the mustache? I hate it. Of a beard? I’ll hate it. The basement I love. So this is where all the boys will be staying?”

“Yeah, Rod and I get the smaller rooms and Randy and Ty get the big one. Come here, check out the pictures on this wall.”

“Oh, this is so nice. You and your Australian friend look so cute together. Isn’t that his last name on the sign?”

“Yeah, that’s his family’s winery. We took it this summer during my trip.”

“Who’s the dark boy with you in this one? He’s handsome.” Rosario was pointing to another picture.

“That’s Thiago. You’ll meet him sometime this weekend. He goes to school with me and we use the same dojo for martial arts training. That one was taken at a competition. That’s why we’re wearing our gis.”

“And who are all these other boys in the other ones?” The grandmother waved a hand to encompass a group of pictures all featuring CJ.

“This is my best friend, Harley. You’ll get to meet him this weekend too. A biker we ran into at the Harley-Davidson Museum while we were in Milwaukee last summer took it.”

“Was this one taken in New York? It has to be with all those tall buildings in the background.”

“Yep, that’s at the Hi-Line. They turned an old abandoned expressway into a park. Chipper and his sister Cristina will be here for dinner on Thursday. And the other one is in front of Fenway Park in Boston. That’s Brad and that’s his brother Patrick. They’ll be over sometime later tonight. They’re Owen’s cousins and they live next door.”

“Are they also celebrating Thanksgiving with us?”

“Nah, they’re going up to Boston on Wednesday to spend it with their mom. But their dads and Owen will also be here.” CJ felt a pang of something he couldn’t identify realizing Owen was in more pictures than anyone else but him and his dads. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all, but it was something unfamiliar. “That’s Uncles JP and Tom, with the dads and me at the Harbour Bridge in Sydney.”

“Two fathers? And you say they’re your neighbors?”

“They’re Dad and Papa’s best friends. They were the ones who met each other the same day as the dads and then they all got married together. I need to put up a picture of the five of us at the reception and a couple others from last month. I already had them printed and I’ll pick them up from the frame shop tomorrow.”

“Okay, I recognize them now. But I think we better sit down and you can tell me a little bit more about all these people I’m going to meet. How many of us are having dinner together anyway?”

“I think it’s up to almost twenty, but you never know if the dads will invite someone else at the last minute.”

• • •

“Your shot.” Rodney stepped away from the table and watched his cousin chalk the tip of the cue stick while looking over the balls left on the felt. “So, what did you learn in school today?”

CJ spent time with his grandparents after returning home from classes and then headed downstairs to drop his backpack and change clothes. He found Rod fiddling with the pool table and challenged him to a game. “Oh, I’m learning right now. I’m learning my cousin can’t shoot pool for shit.”

“Watch it, boy! I’m older and bigger.”

“Yeah, but you still suck. Three ball, corner pocket.”

“I’m not the lucky bastard with one of these toys at home. I don’t get to play on a regular basis like you do.”

“Bullshit!” CJ aimed at the cue ball, struck it with enough force for it to connect with the called one, and watched the bright red spheroid glide into the chosen pouch. “Ha! Seven in the side,” he called out, moving around to set the shot. “And just so you know, we got the table in August and that’s how long I’ve been playing regular.”

Rod had arrived earlier in the day, taken a cab from the airport, and spent the remainder of the morning with his grandparents. “If today’s any indication, you’ve been playing a lot. No homework?”

“Nah, I did a lot of stuff this past weekend. I wanted to get ahead, but this week’s slow at school anyway. There’s a paper due for English next week I need to do some reading for. But otherwise I plan to enjoy having all of you here.”

“Whatcha reading?” Rodney walked around trying to figure out an easy shot; his cousin had failed to sink his last one and his turn was up again.

The Kasîdah of Hâjî Abdû El-Yezdî”

Rod glanced at CJ while scrunching up his face. “The what?”

CJ chuckled as his cousin once again missed. “The Kasidah for short. It’s a long-assed poem by Sir Richard Francis Burton. I hate poetry but I gotta do it for class or I don’t pass, and this one’s pretty good as far as I’ve read. It’s more a road map to Sufist ideas in poem form.”

“Religion? Is that the little old book I saw on the couch upstairs?”

“Yeah, I was reading yesterday before the abuelos got here and left it there. And it ain’t religion. More like philosophy. Seven ball, side pocket,” he added, tapping his stick against the intended hole.

“Where’d you get it? It looks ancient.”

“It is. Found it upstairs, and that edition’s almost a hundred years old. You know that wall full of books in the hallway outside the dads’ room? They have all sorts of leather-bound older books and first editions. I even discovered a couple of signed ones by Hemingway. Most of them supposedly belonged to Papa’s parents. He mentioned there’s even more at their old house. Since he put the place up for sale while he was out in California this summer, they’ll be shipped here following the closing. The house’s been rented out furnished and it’s being sold the same way. His grandfather didn’t want to get rid of it at the time the Davenports died in case Papa wanted it, and then it was like an investment. But we get all the other books in the library and a few more pieces of art once the sale’s over.”

“Hey, Uncle Brett took us to The Tombs for lunch. I tried looking for your friend we met last time, but I didn’t see him. What was his name anyway?”

“Spike. And he works nights and weekends. He has school during the day.” CJ sounded dismissive talking about the server.

Rod watched as the ball CJ chose rolled straight to its intended target. “You don’t sound thrilled with him. You pissed at him or something?”

“Nah, I’m tired of him always talking about Owen. ‘Owen’s so tall. He has such a great accent. Owen’s hair looks real good. His eyes are so blue.’ I’m pretty sure he’s trying to get into Ozzie’s pants. Eight ball, corner.”

“Speaking of the golden boy from Australia, the abuelos like him a lot. Do I get to meet him sometime soon?”

CJ took a couple of practice strokes, sliding the stick through the chalked juncture of his thumb and forefinger, not coming close enough to hit the cue ball. “Prolly tonight. He, Brad, and Patrick will come over and play a game with us. It’s sort of what we do most nights. I meant to ask you, how come you flew in today? If you were taking the week off from school, why didn’t you come down over the weekend?” CJ sank the black ball in the proper pocket, and taking a step away from the table, twirled the cue stick with one hand while taking a bow.

“You’re such a dick. Wait until my brother and Ty get here. Those two are pool sharks. I wanted to fly in Friday night originally, but had to turn a paper in at 8:00 a.m. today. I can’t wait until school’s over next year. This double major, five year program’s kicking my ass and getting old. But Uncle Brett wanted me to get here early so we could talk about a few things.”

“The theatre?” CJ took the cue stick his cousin had been using and stored both on the rack, grinning at the easy way he’d defeated the older man.

“Yeah, but also about my plans for the future.” Rodney frowned, walking out of the low ceilinged play area towards the main section of the basement. “Don’t discuss this with anyone yet, okay? Your dads want me to move to Washington. They want me to come work for their development company.”

• • •

Rico & Lynne Abelló flew in from Chicago Tuesday night. They’d closed the office at noon and given their employees the days before and after Thanksgiving off work with pay; this was the second time Lynne had been to Washington and she wanted to do some sightseeing. She arrived carrying a soft sided cooler filled with Polish kielbasa.

“These aren’t the typical ones you find in the supermarket,” Lynne told CJ, handing over the food. “They’re from a small, family-owned company back home. They’ll be a good snack while you boys are parked in front of the TV watching football the next few days.”

“Are you going to cook for us while you’re here, Aunt Lynne? I’d love to have some more of the food you made for me before.”

“Really? I guess I could throw something together Friday night since your grandmother’s cooking Cuban food tomorrow. But I’ll need to go to the market in the morning.”

“I think tomorrow the food stores will be packed, but you can borrow my Jeep if you want to drive somewhere. I can tell you where the good grocery stores are.”

“I heard you’re taking your grandparents out to see a few of the monuments tomorrow morning. I think I want to tag along. We can go to the market on Friday.”

“Cool, I’ll take you. Come on, Uncle Rico,” CJ said, interrupting the conversation his uncle was having with his dads and grandparents. “Let’s take your luggage up. You and Aunt Lynne get my bedroom.”

“And where are you sleeping?” Rico glanced at his nephew while still clasping Rosario. CJ’s aunt and uncle didn’t get to Miami as often as he and his fathers did and the Chicago couple stuck close to the grandparents whenever they all got together.

“I’m in the basement with the cousins. Rod and I get the smaller rooms and Ty and Randy get the large one. You two get a bigger room and bed and I get to hang out with the fun crowd.”

“Fun, eh? I didn’t realize we’d become so boring. Are we even allowed down there?”

“You’re not boring, you’re just old. I mean, you guys are all over thirty. And of course you’re allowed down in the basement. That’s the best place in the house now. We’ll be watching football there this weekend.”

• • •

Brett left the house early Wednesday morning, dragging Rod with him to a breakfast meeting with Leo Dallas―owner of Leatherneck Construction―and Taisha Kravitz. The young African-American woman had already proved herself indispensable, according to comments CJ had overheard. They promised to be home around lunch.

Likewise, César left for work promising to return around the same time since the office would be closed at noon. He drove Defiant to work, leaving his larger vehicle for his son to use. CJ was taking his grandparents, uncle, and aunt on a tour of monuments and memorials and assured everyone they’d be back early so his grandmother could start cooking.

“That’s my school.” CJ pointed at the School Without Walls buildings as he drove by.

“And this is where all the boys in those pictures in the basement go to?” Lynne sat in the front passenger seat next to her nephew.

“Yeah, we’re all juniors except for Patrick, who’s a freshman. And Thiago, he’s our same age but he’s a year ahead in school.”

“He’s that smart?”

CJ chuckled while turning at the corner on his way to the National Mall. “And then some. We have a special program with George Washington University that he’s a part of. When he graduates next year, he’ll have his high school diploma and an Associate’s Degree.”

“If he’s that good he must be headed to a quality school after he graduates.”

“He could prolly get in anywhere he wants to. He’s planning on staying home and going to Howard University here in DC. He wants to become a pharmacist, and already has a full scholarship.”

Rico was in the middle row of seats next to his mother, and he leaned over to talk to his nephew. “Are all your friends smart?”

“Yeah, the school’s not easy to get into. They require a minimum grade point average and you have to fill out an application and go through interviews before you get in.”

“And you got in? Did you have to bribe somebody?”

“Ha, ha, ha, Uncle Rico. I didn’t even apply. The school principal, Mrs. Edwards, is married to Papa’s old boss at the Pentagon. She met me when I first got to Washington last year and recruited me. I didn’t even have to take the test.”

“That’s my grandson!” Sebastián shouted from the last row.

CJ followed Ohio Drive as it skirted the Potomac River and pulled into the small parking lot in East Potomac Park he’d used before. Tucked away under the ramps for the 14th Street Bridge, it was the closest one to his favorite Presidential Memorial. “So I discovered this by accident one of the gazillion times I’ve come to the Jefferson. I thought you’d like to see it.”

“What is it?” Lynne followed her nephew as he walked towards a white marble column topped with a carved urn of the same stone.

“This is more for the abuelos. It’s the Cuban Friendship Urn. It’s also known as the U.S.S. Maine Memorial although there’s another one of those at Arlington Cemetery.”

“It’s in Spanish!” Rosario’s surprise was accompanied by a smile while running her fingers over the letters on the bronze plaque attached to the stone.

“It was part of the memorial in Havana dedicated to the sailors who died when the Maine was blown up in the harbor. A hurricane knocked it over back in the 1920s, and the Cuban government sent the top part as a present to the US. It was lost for many years and when it was found they put it here.”

After taking pictures in front of the monument, CJ led the two older couples towards the end of the park and stopped for a few minutes at the George Mason Memorial―a bronze statue of the Founding Father sitting on a stone bench―before crossing the street and approaching the Jefferson Memorial. The neoclassical structure on the Tidal Basin never failed to bring a smile to CJ’s face and he shared his love for it with his relatives.

On the return trip to Georgetown, CJ took the George Washington Parkway, drove through Lady Bird Johnson Park, and around the Iwo Jima Monument. They arrived home to find a tray of sandwiches and containers of salads waiting for them and Rodney and Brett already eating.

Later in the afternoon, Rod was bent over the pool table with CJ leaning against his cousin’s back with his arms around the man from Chicago. He’d agreed to help him improve his pool game.

“I'm shocked, shocked to find pot smoking is going on in here!” Randy stood with legs spread wide, fists on hips, and the proverbial shit-eating grin on his face.

“Asshole!” CJ shouted, jumping after being surprised by Randy’s accusation. “Hi, Ty, good to have you back. Could you please tell your boyfriend he’s no longer welcome here?”

“Sorry, cuz, but we’re a package deal. How about welcoming me the right way. I want a hug, and then point me in the direction of the weed. After our damn flight I could use a little smoke.”

Dinner was raucous. The eight Abellós―plus Brett and Tyler―gorged on picadillo, white rice, black beans, fried sweet plantains, sliced tomatoes, and coconut flan. The four younger men shooed the older crowd out of the kitchen area, stored leftover food, and cleaned up. Lynne wanted to stroll through the neighborhood and peek around the university’s grounds, so César passed out cigars to his father, brother, and husband, the abuelos bundled up, and left CJ alone with his cousins. He texted Owen and invited him to come over so he could meet Randy and Tyler. As he had predicted, they ended up in the basement.

“Are you sure your dads don’t mind us smoking pot inside the house?” Tyler was on the couch, a wood tray, a plastic bag half full of greenish-brown buds, and rolling papers resting on his lap.

“Not sure what they’d say but they did install a high efficiency ventilation system down here. They want to smoke cigars while playing pool or watching football.” CJ looked at Owen and smiled conspiratorially. “And after the concert in West Palm, I don’t think they’d object at all.”

“Damn! Don’t tell me you got Uncle César stoned.” Randy’s eyes flitted between his cousin and the Aussie. “Owen, are you being a bad influence on my family already?”

“Fuck no, mate. I had nothing to do with it. All I did was accept the joint Cap passed over. César stayed away from it. He made himself the designated driver.”

CJ was roaring. He held on to his mid-section, laughing at the expression on Randy and Ty’s faces. Rod had heard the story the previous day and chuckled. “Ozzie shared the story yesterday, guys. You gotta let him do it again. It’s better with his accent.”

“Ozzie? Cap? Brett getting high? Okay, what the fuck’s been going on since Ty and I saw you in Chicago earlier this summer?” Randy accepted the lighter and doobie his boyfriend handed him and fired it up. By the time it‘d made its way through the group, he was shaking his head and asking Ty to roll another one.

“Hey, Ozzie, you didn’t get to tell me about your trip to New York. How’d you like the big city?” Rodney was sprawled on one of the bean bag chairs, smiling. He’d already told CJ he liked the big blonde man after they’d spent time together the previous day.

“It was bloody fantastic, mate. You’ve all met Chipper, right?” He stopped momentarily to accept the joint CJ held out to him and took a puff while the Chicago guys nodded their heads. “His birthday was earlier this month and we went to New York to celebrate with his sister. I couldn’t believe the apartment, the crowds, the buildings―”

“I just met you and I think I hate you already,” Ty said. “We haven’t even been invited to the damn apartment yet.”

“Hey, don’t pick on my friends.” CJ was wagging his finger while rubbing Owen’s knee. “New York’s an easy trip for us. You guys live too far away.”

“Sorry, mate.” Owen gave Ty an apologetic shrug. “But I guess I was in the right place at the right time. Anyway, I got to watch a show on Broadway, rode a hansom cab through Central Park, ate at a bunch of nice restaurants, and met CJ’s friend Sean at his gym in Chelsea. You should have seen the eye candy. I’d never been to a gym before where almost everyone was gay. And get this, we walk in and the bloody owner greets CJ by name!”

“Ha, par for the course. My little cousin’s an attention whore. I went through similar shit last time I was here.”

“Fuck you, Rod. And I’ll have you know I ain’t so little. Tell him, Ozzie.”

Owen’s face turned crimson, his eyes looked everywhere except at the men waiting for an answer. He shook his head and stared at his lap. CJ thought the Aussie looked adorable when he was embarrassed, but he knew he looked good most of the time anyway. It was funny how shy he could become on occasion in contrast to how wild he could be in bed.

And damn had he been wild while in New York. He, Owen, and Chipper headed up to the City on Friday and had dinner at a sports bar near the apartment. Saturday they’d met Sean at WOOF for a morning workout and then were joined by Cristina who’d spent the afternoon and evening with them. By the time they returned to the apartment, they were exhausted and sleep came fast. Sunday was more of the same, an early workout, brunch with Cristina, and then a matinee performance. In the evening they ordered Chinese, and sat around watching TV and putting a dent in the bottle of bourbon Owen had picked up earlier in the day.

Maybe it was the memory of all the naked, hard bodies in the locker room, or maybe it was the effect of the alcohol. At some point, out came a tablet and the three men huddled close together to watch streaming porn. It didn’t take long after for them to be naked, in bed, Owen on his back with his legs raised and Chipper between the Aussie and CJ.

His first threesome had CJ exploding way too fast for his liking, but he was young enough for a quick recovery; he plowed through it and kept going without taking a break. Realizing they’d run out of condoms, they had to stop their romp. After barebacking Eli over the summer, and the ensuing conversations with his dads and Dr. Harding, CJ had vowed not to take any further risks.

In the light of day, the guys were playful and kidded each other but nothing further happened. CJ wasn’t certain he was interested in repeating the experience. Something had bothered him about seeing Chipper fuck Owen. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he had no interest in seeing the Aussie having sex with anyone else ever again.

• • •

“Come on, guys, get off your asses. Let’s go throw the football around for a while.” Rod, Randy, and Tyler looked away from the TV screen where a football game was already on. The older family members had left the house after breakfast, on their way to the National Mall. They planned on spending the day exploring the treasures at the Smithsonian’s museums, leaving the younger guys on their own until dinner time.

Rodney bent over and started lacing up the sneakers laying on the floor by him. “That sounds like a great idea. But I’ll have to leave after an hour or so. I’ve got lunch plans.”

Randy looked at his brother with surprise. “You do? Where?”

“Not sure. Taisha’s coming by to pick me up. She’s going to show me where she grew up and where she went to school after we eat.”

CJ pumped his arm in the air before extending his hand palm up towards Tyler. “Pay up, sucker! I was right!”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tyler reached in his pocket and peeled off a bill, handing it over to CJ. “You cost me twenty bucks. The little twerp bet me you’d be going out with her on a date before the weekend was over.”

Randy raised a fist in triumph. “Yes! I was smart not to take the bet. I knew something was up when you wouldn’t leave her side yesterday. As good as all the food was, you paid more attention to the girl than to what you were putting in your mouth.”

“You should have seen him when he first met her.” CJ enjoyed the discomfort his cousin was experiencing. “We went to lunch with her and Papa when Rod drove back with me. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.”

“Fuck off, all of you. She’s a nice woman and I enjoy talking to her.”

“Talking?” Tyler’s smirk was contagious; it left CJ and Randy chuckling. “Is that what we call it now?”

Temperatures were in the thirties and the four men donned sweatshirts and coats before walking out and heading to Healy Lawn on the university’s campus. “Hey, CJ,” Randy called out to his cousin who was walking a few steps ahead of the rest of them. “Why don’t you call some of your buddies and have them join us?”

“They’re all busy this morning. Chipper’s with his sister, Thiago has something at his church, and Harley’s babysitting. His mom went shopping and didn’t want the girls around since she’s buying Christmas presents.”

“What about Owen?” Tyler asked.

“He has a study date with Ethan.” CJ’s comment raised eyebrows in his cousins. “What? What’s with the looks?”

“Sorry, cuz. But you sound jealous.” Randy threw an arm around CJ’s shoulders and hugged him close to his body.

“I’m not jealous. Okay?” CJ wiggled out of the affectionate embrace and started walking ahead.

“You know something, cuz?” Randy sped up his pace, caught CJ, and once again draped an arm around him. “I think you’re full of shit. There’s no doubt you’re smitten and I don’t blame you. The man’s gorgeous, intelligent, and a pleasure to be around. I think you need to get your head out of your ass and admit he’s more than just a friend. What the fuck are you hesitating for? How long you think he’s gonna wait for you to make up your mind? Shit or get off the pot, buddy. Owen’s perfect for you and if you don’t close the deal, someone else will. Hell, I’d go for him if I wasn’t nuts about Ty.”

• • •

The remainder of the weekend saw the Abellós spending lots of time together. The Chicago contingent wasn’t certain if they’d all be in Miami over Christmas and enjoyed being around the grandparents as much as possible. Friday night they all went to Rogo’s and took over the two tables near the front César, Brett, and their friends had long ago claimed as theirs. On Saturday, Harley, Thiago, and Chipper came over to watch football and so did Dragon and Doc. By lunchtime on Sunday, everyone but the grandparents had returned home.

“Mate, this is so different.” Owen’s enthusiasm was surprising. All they were doing was going to a Christmas tree lot to buy one for each of the two households. JP and Tom had told CJ to use his judgement. They wanted to have the tree up and ready to be decorated by the time Bradley and Patrick returned from Boston later in the day.

“What? Riding in the truck?” CJ steered Brett’s Harley-Davidson Edition Ford F-350 with care; he wasn’t used to driving such a long vehicle but it would be perfect for carrying two large evergreens.

“Yeah, that too.” Owen looked around the impeccably maintained older pickup. “I can’t believe this ute’s as old as it is. It’s in perfect shape.”

“Papa doesn’t drive it much. He used the motorcycle to go to work most of the time and now he’ll prolly walk to the new office. It’s just ten or fifteen minutes away on foot. You said too, what else were you talking about?”

“The weather. I’m used to Christmas being warm. I’ve never gone shopping all bundled up like this.”

“Just wait ’til we get snow and end up trapped in the house for a day or three. Then you’ll notice the difference for real. I sure as hell did when I moved.”

“So, where we going to get these things?”

CJ smiled, knowing his buddy would like what he had planned. “I thought about you and your environmental awareness when I looked for the best place to go to. There’s a lot up Wisconsin which sells live trees. That way, when the holidays are over, we can plant them in the yard instead of just tossing them in the garbage.”

“That’s awesome, CJ.” Owen was enthusiastic in his reply. “But if we’re going to a place in Washington, why are we headed towards Virginia right now?”

“Ummm, I hope you don’t mind but I want to stop for a bit before we go shopping.” He knew he sounded nervous; he’d rehearsed what he wanted to do and say but was becoming apprehensive. What if it didn’t work out?

“Okay… what do you have in mind?”

CJ didn’t reply right away. He concentrated on the road, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. His creased forehead was a dead giveaway as he pondered the situation. “Hang on one minute.” He turned off the George Washington Memorial Parkway and into the parking lot for the Lyndon Baines Johnson Memorial Grove on the Potomac. The wooded area was crisscrossed with paths and he’d been here more than once. It was a quiet spot without the throngs of tourists which often overran other monuments and memorials.

“I… I’m a little nervous so give me a chance to get this out, okay?” CJ said, turning off the engine and looking at the man in the passenger seat.

“You, tongue tied? Well, that’s new and different.”

“Asshole… Look, you’ve been awesome to get to know. And I know I’ve not always been as open about my feelings as you have. When I moved to Washington, one of my first experiences was watching Doc and Chip break up. And right before we flew to Australia, I witnessed another relationship crumble when Dragon and Rashid―that was his boyfriend―went their separate ways. Watching two of the four or five couples my dads were friends with end their relationship scared me.

“I didn’t want to end up like them. When I saw how my dads, and Tom and JP, dealt with each other, that’s what I wanted. Yeah, sex was fun but I wanted more. I didn’t want to fuck and run. But that’s what I did with you when we first met. You’re hot, you’re smart, and you’re caring and I was a shit to you when you wanted me to be your boyfriend. But I wasn’t ready. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be ready.”

“Look, CJ, you don’t have to―” Owen had stopped smiling. He was staring straight ahead at the small grove in front of them.

“No, let me finish. Please.” CJ gulped, turned to stare at the Aussie and reached towards him, putting a hand on the man’s knee. “Anyway, you asked me to be your boyfriend and I turned you down. But I was wondering if you still felt the same way. If you were still interested in being my boyfriend. Because if you are, I’m ready to say yes.”

“Mate… are you… are you serious?” Owen struggled to get the words out as a smile formed on his face.

CJ reached up and ran his hand along the Aussie’s cheek. “Yeah, I’m serious. I’ve realized I don’t want to be with anyone else and I don’t want you being with anyone else either. I think the solution’s for us to become boyfriends. That is, if you’re still interested.”

“About bloody time, you wanker.”

• • •

“You know something, Jarhead? I’m real glad CJ insisted on having a tree this year. Even if we won’t be here Christmas day itself.”

Brett swirled the amber liquid in his snifter and touched the rim of the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. He closed his eyes, moaned in appreciation, and reached for César’s hand, entwining their fingers. CJ was downstairs reading―he would move back to the second floor tomorrow after it was cleaned. Sebastián and Rosario had retired early claiming exhaustion and the two men sat alone in the living room. Lights turned off, illumination came from the small fire still burning in the hearth, and from the glow of street-lights outside the windows.

“He and Ozzie picked a good one. It’ll be fun decorating it tomorrow night.”

“I think Ozzie the Aussie will be around a lot more from now on, eh?” César’s soft chuckle was accompanied by him sliding even closer to Brett. “I guess love’s in the air.”

“If you ask me, it’s about damn time those two realized they’re more than friends. I like the idea of Ozzie being our son-in-law.”

“Don’t jump the gun, Jarhead. They ain’t married. They’re boyfriends. Baby steps… baby steps.”

As usual, my thanks to Mann, Kitt, and Reader1810 for their assistance.
C. A. Hazday
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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1 hour ago, Mattyboy said:

Harley antics are the best antics

LMAO

Dude, I'm impressed with your speed reading! Next thing we know, you'll be reading about CJ going to college and-- never mind, you'll be there soon enough.

Interesting I've yet to write a spinoff for Harley. It's next on my list so hopefully in a year or so. You'll be all caught up way before then. :)

 

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I'm still looking for that rugby game, too! 

I woulda hit you with the Chekhov thing on introducing  all those rugby players and sending your characters to rugby  practices  and having them join clubs....   and no rugby games get played    Northern Hemisphere rugby games get played. 

But I've done that thing that I'm trying to organize a game and we've got 15 registered players and 15 guys with boots and shirts and 15 guys at the park ....   AND its 45 different people.  So I totally know those guys (or they're on my list but I haven't met them, y'know,  cuz I ditched practice). 

 

 

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1 hour ago, Mattyboy said:

I'm still looking for that rugby game, too! 

I woulda hit you with the Chekhov thing on introducing  all those rugby players and sending your characters to rugby  practices  and having them join clubs....   and no rugby games get played    Northern Hemisphere rugby games get played. 

But I've done that thing that I'm trying to organize a game and we've got 15 registered players and 15 guys with boots and shirts and 15 guys at the park ....   AND its 45 different people.  So I totally know those guys (or they're on my list but I haven't met them, y'know,  cuz I ditched practice). 

 

 

ROTFLMAO

I've not written an actual game. There. At some point I do describe Owen laying on his back after a hard hit. Does that count? Since we're using "WRITING" rules and regulations, how about I call up the good old showing is better than telling.

Instead of saying CJ likes sports, I'd rather show him playing or watching while using the event or background to get real writing in. When you get to Roar, the chapter where he's at an NBA game comes to mind immediately. I used game attendance, the arena, and a couple of lines to set the stage for a conversation that advanced the story. Why am I being so verbose? I'm sober. Better go fix that error.

Anyway, rugby's a recurring theme. CJ ends up investing in a pro team.

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