Naptown 21 - Summer Internship - 11. Put the Petal to the Medal - Kurt

Summer Internship

A Naptown Tales Novel by Altimexis & David of Hope

Put the Petal to the Medal - Kurt
by Altimexis

Trevor and I got into a routine of getting up ‘before the chickens were up’, much to David and Jeremy’s chagrin, quickly and quietly getting ready in the bathroom, getting dressed, and tiptoeing out of the room. We were both at work and sipping on our first cups of coffee at our posts in the Hart Senate Office Building before our roommates’ alarms had even gone off. After taking care of whatever business needed taking care of that morning, be it answering e-mail or phone calls from constituents, gathering materials for an early morning committee meeting or retrieving our senators’ cleaning, we’d meet up and head over to the Capitol Building, where we’d grab breakfast in the Congressional Dining Room.

The Senator was certainly right, breakfast on The Hill was a hell of a lot better than the crap they served at Webster Hall, but then, we were dining with senators, representatives and their guests, including some of the highest paid lobbyists on Capitol Hill. There were also a number of very well known news reporters and anchors, and foreign correspondents. On any given morning, I could count on dining in the company of people who would be on the six o’clock news that evening. It was really awesome. More than awesome. I felt like I was living in someone else’s dream.

But then again, things were about to get even more surreal as the weekend drew near. I was about to receive what only a handful of Americans had ever received. Not only was I to receive the President’s Young American Medal for Bravery, which I guess I really did deserve for what I did in saving Sammy - I was finally coming to accept that - but I was also going to receive a Congressional Gold Medal. That was just unreal. I mean, I knew I was doing something important, but I was just doing what I thought anyone in my situation should have done.

Trevor kept telling me I was one in a million, and obviously the President, and the Senators, and most everyone in Congress agreed. It was just taking a while for me to wrap my mind around it. Me, Kurt DeWitt, an ordinary fifteen-year-old kid - and a gay kid at that. This was sure going to mean a change in my life. From now on, everyone was gonna know of me as that kid that got the Congressional Gold Medal. Everyone would think of me as some kind of hero, but I sure didn’t feel like a hero. I just did what I had to do.

And geez, everyone was coming in for the ceremony. My mom was going to be there, and Trevor’s parents, too. My grandparents from both sides of the family, and several aunts and uncles, and a bunch of cousins I haven’t seen in years were gonna be there. About the only one who wouldn’t be there was my dad, but then I didn’t even know if he was invited, and wasn’t too keen on seeing him anyway. He sure made his feelings clear enough when he skipped town after I came out in the local paper. He couldn’t take people knowing he had a ‘faggot son’.

Anyway, Trevor and Jeremy’s parents were going to be throwing a big banquet in my honor on Saturday night. It was sickening. Imagine a huge banquet, just for me! It was going to be so over the top, you know? And they were putting everyone up at the Ritz-Carlton, for cripes sake! On the other hand, that so many people cared about me, kinda choked me up.

Even more people came in that Saturday than I was expecting. My mom and both my brothers came in, as did both sets of grandparents, my Aunt Gladys and Uncle Henry, my Aunt Sheryl and Uncle Ralph, my Aunt Jane and Uncle James and my Uncle Stephen and Aunt Hillary. My Uncle Bill also attended and, much to my surprise, he brought his partner, my Uncle Jeff, whom I didn’t even know I had, and they were from my father’s side of the family. Wow, my dad had a gay brother! What a shocker! A whole bunch of my cousins came, but there were so many of them and I’ve never been good at keeping track of all of them, I have so many.

Not only did Trevor’s parents come, but they brought Sammy and Paul with them, and David’s parents and brother came, as did Jeremy’s parents and brother. I was surprised that they made the time to come. I think they, more than anyone, showed me just how much this medal meant by taking time off from their busy schedules. A bunch of friends from school came as well, including Cathy and Debbie, Tim and Larry and Randy and Altaf, in spite of the fact that they were a month away from getting married. It was amazing to see so many people coming to Washington for the weekend, just to see me get a couple of medals. It made me feel . . . loved.

Trevor’s parents even rented a room for Trevor and me for the night, which was really amazing. I mean, when you thought about it, they still looked at our relationship as sinful in God’s eyes, but here they were, renting a room for us to be together for the night so we could have our privacy. They knew there was only one reason we’d need our privacy, and it wasn’t for sleep. They really had accepted me as their future son-in-law, and the thought of it made me feel tingly all over. I mean I’m still only fifteen, I know, but they treat me like an adult - they treat me with respect - and my being gay doesn’t matter to them at all. What a great family!

The banquet was being held in the ballroom at the Washington Ritz-Carlton. Man, what a trip! I couldn’t believe how elegant the place is. All my relatives and the other guests started gathering at 5:30, even though the banquet wasn’t supposed to start until six. I guess everyone was really floored by the grandeur of the place. You’d swear we were all going to a wedding or something. In fact, one of the waiters told me they hold a lot of weddings in this very room. A lot of the weddings are for rich and famous people, too - diplomats, children of congressmen, children of corporate presidents and government contractors and the like. I didn’t realize it before, but Washington’s suburbs are some of the wealthiest in America - places like Chevy Chase, Potomac, Bethesda, Falls Church, Alexandria and Arlington.

When we were on Spring Break, we had some really fine meals, but nothing compared to the feast of a banquet we had that night in my honor. I totally lost count of all the courses we had. The food was incredible - abso-fucking-lutely incredible. There was a seafood bisque with clams, lobster, shrimp and I don’t know what else in it. It was pure heaven. And there was a salad with arugula and walnuts and some sort of greens I’d never seen before in my life. I don’t know what they were, but they tasted fantastic. And then there was Maryland soft shell crab on toast. It was like the spiced crab we had at the White House during Spring Break, but you didn’t have to work to get at the meat the way you did with the regular blue crabs. These crabs you ate like you’d eat a burger, and they were delicious . . . and they were just the appetizer!

Man, I was already full by then, but we were just warming up. There were two main courses. First, there was a lobster imperial that was like nothing I’d ever had before. It was served with a snap pea and pepper stir fry that tasted like the vegetables were picked from someone’s personal garden - they were that fresh - and with baby carrots and new potatoes. We all took our time eating, there was just so much food, but surrounded by family and friends, I was having a wonderful time in conversation, too. Both our senators and most of our state representatives were at various tables around the room, and the stories they told of their experiences on ‘The Hill’ had everyone in stitches throughout the meal.

After the first main course had been cleared and when I was expecting dessert to be arriving, instead a second main course was brought out and served. Whoa! It consisted of a wonderful medium rare petit filet mignon and/or a tuna filet, both served with a very rich béarnaise sauce. There was also a stuffed whole tomato, green beans, shoestring potatoes and a very delicate cucumber dill salad. What a feast!

Finally, the tables were cleared yet again, but we were allowed a good long while to digest our meal before any more food was brought out. I was sure glad for that. When they did finally bring out desert, they brought out trays of an assortment of miniature desserts for each table, so we could pick and choose to eat as much or as little as we wanted. At first I thought I’d just have a lemon tart, but I ended up having a little blueberry cheesecake, and then a chocolate mousse cake - maybe it was called death by chocolate, I think - and then a crème brûlée that knocked my socks off. I polished the meal off with an amaretto cappuccino that was by far the best coffee I’d ever had.

After the meal had wound down, our senior senator got up and walked to a podium at the front of the room, and he introduced himself and spoke of the first time we met and what a remarkable young man I was. Geez, it was sooo embarrassing! He talked about how I’d done something very brave last summer, and how I didn’t stop with one act of bravery, and how I didn’t let fear rule my life, but how I’d turned what could have been a tragedy into a triumph of the human spirit. He said that I’d used my misfortune to help the lives of thousands if not millions of other kids who’d suffered at the hands of those who would abuse them.

Even I had to admit, it was a very touching speech, but then the senator did something unexpected - he called Sammy to the podium.

I couldn’t believe how handsome Sammy looked as he walked to the podium, wearing a brand new designer suit and with a fresh haircut. He was as cute as ever, but I had forgotten how much he’d grown.

When Sammy got there, he spoke with a voice that sounded much more mature than I remembered him to be. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Many of you know me, but most of you don’t. My name is Sam Franklin, and I’d like to tell you about a very special friend of mine.

“My life growing up was not an easy one. Born to a single mother who’s a drug addict, I spent most of my childhood living in foster care, and when I wasn’t in foster care or in a group home, I spent a lot of my time living on the street. Last summer, when I was given an opportunity to attend a church camp for disadvantaged youth, I jumped at the chance to get away from the city . . . away from a mother who didn’t care . . . away from the drugs, the crime and the poverty that was a part of my everyday life.

“It was at camp that I first met Kurt DeWitt and his boyfriend, Trevor Austin. They were the first openly gay couple I’d ever met. They certainly didn’t fit any of the stereotypes I’d been raised to believe about gay men. Trevor was the junior counselor in my cabin, and he was as masculine as any teenage boy I’d met. He was nice to all of us, very knowledgeable about computers and very fair. Kurt was one of the camp’s Bible instructors, and really knew his way around the Bible!

“Before I went to camp, I’d been led to believe that being gay was a sin, but Kurt quickly changed my views on that. He knew the Bible better than anyone, and he was gay! It turns out a lot of people who think they know what’s in the Bible don’t know the Bible that well at all. The Bible can be interpreted and misinterpreted pretty much as people please. The South used it to justify the existence of slavery prior to the Civil War, and there are people who still believe the Bible condones apartheid, while most of the world considers it repugnant. Kurt DeWitt showed me that God loves everyone, black and white, gay and straight, rich and poor. Kurt made me a better person, and I’ll always love him for that, but that’s just the beginning of our story.

“Not long after I arrived at camp, Gary, the senior counselor in my cabin, approached me for some one-on-one bonding. We started going out at night for an occasional smoke, which was exciting for a street-wise twelve-year-old boy, but that soon led in a very short time to the trading of sexual favors. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but Gary left me no choice . . . he made it clear that if I didn’t cooperate, I would be found in the camp lake, the victim of an ‘accidental’ drowning.

“Before long, Gary had me performing sex with some of the other campers in my cabin, and he recorded what we did on his camcorder for his personal viewing pleasure, and perhaps to sell for profit. Gary had us all running scared. We were petrified, and when it all started to fall apart, we did what he told us to do to survive . . . we all pointed the finger at Trevor Austin. Much as I knew it was wrong . . . much as I hated to do it . . . I falsely accused Trevor of sexually assaulting me. Had I not done so, I might not be standing here today. I sincerely believe I might have been dredged from the bottom of the lake and buried in an unmarked grave.

“After Trevor was arrested and taken away, Kurt stayed up late at night, watching and waiting. He knew it couldn’t have been Trevor, and he followed Gary and me to a clearing. He had a plan, but it didn’t work the way he thought it would, and he got caught. Gary forced him to participate.” Sammy got choked up at this point, but then he went on, “but he didn’t let that get him down. He showed me courage even as Gary was leading us to the camp director, allegedly to turn Kurt in as a Trevor’s accomplice.

“When I saw how Kurt was standing up for Trevor, I couldn’t do it . . . not again. This time I told the truth, but when I did, Gary pulled a knife on me and demanded the camp director turn over the keys to his SUV. He was going to take me hostage to ensure his safe escape.”

Tears flowed down Sammy’s face as he continued to tell his story. “Kurt wasn’t about to let Gary get away with taking an innocent twelve-year-old boy hostage . . . though only fourteen years old himself, he offered a trade . . . his life for mine. To this day, I can’t imagine the courage it took to approach Gary and make that offer after the pervert had already raped him, and yet he made the offer without a moment’s hesitation. I’m still haunted by the image of Gary driving off with Kurt in his clutches.

“For poor Kurt, the story was just beginning. He still had a nearly twenty-four hour ordeal ahead of him at Gary’s side as a hostage, during which he was forced to perform sexual acts and, not surprisingly, told he would pay the ultimate price so that Gary could escape and start his life over under a new identity. I would have been a basket case, but Kurt never lost his cool. He bided his time, waited for an opportunity when Gary’s guard was down and made his move, seizing control of the SUV and driving it until he was able to get the attention of the police.

“Now you might think the story would end there, but you’d be wrong. Kurt recognized that the scars Gary left among the kids he assaulted at camp were far deeper than the physical ones. He approached some of his friends and made arrangements with their parents to provide funding so that all of the campers affected by Gary could have psychological counseling until they reach the age of eighteen.

“Mrs. Lindsey and Mr. Robert Austin, could you please stand?” After Trevor’s parents were standing, Sammy said, “Please remain standing.

“Dr. Cynthia Roth and Mr. Thomas Kimball, could you please stand?” When all four parents were standing, Sammy continued speaking, “I know that when you made the commitment to support psychotherapy for the victimized campers for the rest of our childhood lives, you had no idea your investments would be taking a nosedive a year later. Still, you have stood by your commitments, and for that we are truly grateful. You have no idea how much those counseling sessions have meant to me and to the rest of Gary’s victims. I seriously doubt that I could have gotten through the last year without them. Looking back, I realize how far I’ve come, but just how far I have yet to go. Your generosity has made all the difference . . .” Sammy had to stop to wipe his nose. “. . . all the difference in the world to me and the campers . . . I mean to the other campers and me. You have truly saved us.

“But the story is still not over. When four of us turned up HIV-positive, two of us were left effectively abandoned. Cliff Daniels was in fact an orphan who now had greatly diminished options for foster care, and my own mother washed her hands of me when she learned I was HIV-positive, which was ironic, given that she herself is a drug addict. When I heard I was HIV-positive, my first thought was that my life was over, but then I learned the HIV could be controlled with drugs. So far, thank God, the drugs have been working and I am essentially disease-free, but if I were to go back to the street, I would never be able to stick with the program, and my HIV would surely become full-blown AIDS. Thanks to Kurt, I have a new home with his boyfriend’s parents. Rob and Lindsey . . . Mom, Dad . . . you’re the best parents I could have ever wished for. You two have given me so much, and I will always think of you as my real mom and dad.

“Dr. Roth and Mr. Kimball, I want to thank you for taking in Cliff Daniels. He deserves a real home, too, and you have delivered. I know that Jeremy is thrilled to have a brother. Above all else, however, none of this would have come about had it not been for Kurt’s perseverance and determination. Kurt saw a problem and he came up with a solution. He saw affluent households with the resources to provide for the emotional needs of kids with deep emotional scars, and with enough love left over to care for an additional child.

“And there’s more, Kurt continues to give of himself, making presentations on rape and sexual abuse, and counseling kids who’ve been through similar experiences. Had he done no more than save my life, he would have been worthy of the President’s Young American Medal for Bravery, but as you can clearly see, he’s done so much more. Is it any wonder that he is receiving the Congressional Gold Medal?

“Please join me in honoring this exceptional young man. Kurt, come here bro.”

Sammy started clapping his hands and the whole room broke into a thunderous applause as everyone rose to their feet. I was absolutely stunned. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been paying such rapt attention to Sammy’s speech that it was only now beginning to sink in. Except for that one mistake he’d made, he’d spoken in perfect English. Not even once did he use his usual street language. Not once did he slip into his Kentucky accent - not even once. He must have practiced that speech for hours . . . for days. I was stunned.

And the response the audience was giving the speech was overwhelming. The applause was deafening, but in the context of the speech, even I had to admit that it was probably deserved. Sammy put what I’d done into context. For me it was the only thing to do . . . the right thing to do . . . the Christian thing to do . . . the human thing to do.

Walking up to the podium, I hugged Sammy tightly and we both cried on each other’s shoulders. Quietly, I whispered into his ear, “Thanks, bro, that speech was awesome. I know you must have practiced it for days. Ya did great!”

“I did it outta love, Kurt,” he whispered back to me. “I’m honored to be your friend, and your future brother-in-law.” He then shook my hand and moved away from the podium, leaving me there alone. In a near panic, I realized I was going to have to say something.

Clearing my throat of the mucous that had pooled there from my crying, I began to speak. “For those of you who don’t know Sammy, his usual speech is quite rough around the edges, so what you heard tonight, for him, is a total aberration from his usual style. I can only imagine how much time he must have spent writing and practicing that speech. I noticed he didn’t use any notes . . . now Sammy’s always had an excellent memory in the time I’ve known him, but for someone who grew up speaking street language with a bit of a Kentucky accent, to speak here tonight without notes took guts. Let’s all give Sammy . . . or excuse me . . . Sam a real hand for delivering such an incredible speech here tonight.”

I started clapping my hands and pretty soon the whole room was on their feet and cheering and clapping again.

When the applause had died down, I continued with, “Sam, tonight you really made me realize how much everything I’ve done has meant to you and how much of a difference I’ve made in your life. Tomorrow I will receive a medal from the President for saving your life, and a medal from Congress for saving your soul, and those of the other campers who were involved in the terrible events of last summer. These medals are mere objects, however. To me the real monuments to my actions are right before me tonight. Seeing you here in front of me, and Cliff Daniels, who is also here tonight, and knowing that there are other lives I have touched that will also be more normal than they otherwise might have been . . . these are the true monuments to my accomplishments.

“Mom, Jeff, and Ben, could you come up here?” I asked of my immediate family, “and Trevor! You come up here, too.”

When they were all there, I added, “The only one missing is my dad, and I don’t even know if he was invited, I’m sorry to say . . .”

“Let’s discuss that later,” Mom interrupted me.

“Anyway, these are the people who’ve made me what I am today,” I announced proudly. “They’ve nurtured me and given me love, and they didn’t abandon me when I came out. In fact, they’ve been very supportive of my relationship with Trevor,” I said as I drew my boyfriend into a half-hug.

“Next summer, Trevor and I will be getting married. I know to some of you, it may seem awfully young, but Trevor will be starting his studies, hopefully at MIT, and I intend to follow him to Boston or wherever he ends up. Once I finish high school, I’ll start my studies in Sociology, and then work toward a degree in Theology, and ultimately a doctorate in the Ministry. In a sense, I’ll be following in my father’s footsteps, but my intent is quite different. I believe in living life as I believe Christ would have me live it . . . not telling people how they should live theirs.

“In any case, I’d like to thank everyone for coming this evening. I want to thank the Austins and the Kimballs for organizing this affair, and I want to thank the staff of the Ritz-Carlton for an outstanding venue. The food was awesome. I’ll look forward to seeing everyone tomorrow at the ceremony, and at my wedding next summer.”

After I stepped down, the junior senator got up and made a few remarks, and gave directions as to how to gain access to the medal ceremony tomorrow. The bottom line was that people needed to arrive a good two hours early to allow time to get through White House security.

When we got back to our table, Mom told me, “Kurt, I did invite your father. When I didn’t hear from him, I gave him a call. I won’t tell you exactly what he said . . . not in polite company . . . but he said words to the effect that the country was going to Hell when it gave medals to . . . um . . . gay people. I’m sorry, Kurt. I know you would have liked for him to have been there to share in your triumph. He just couldn’t get past his prejudices.”

“It’s hard to believe he grew up with a gay brother,” I said.

“Well, he didn’t know his brother was gay until long after they’d left home,” Mom explained, “and as you can imagine, they haven’t spoken to each other in years. Truth is, I didn’t know why they hadn’t had contact with each other until I met your Uncle Bill and his partner, Jeff, today. When he RSVP’ed, he just said he would be bringing his spouse. Your dad never said anything and I honestly didn’t know. Your father’s parents were certainly OK with the news about your being gay, and now I know why.”

“It sure leaves Dad as the odd man out,” I said. “I wonder if . . . ewe, gross. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“What is it, Kurt?” Mom asked.

“Well, Trevor’s always saying that some of the worst homophobes are hung up on their own sexual identity,” I answered. “I just can’t picture Dad being a closet case is all.”

Laughing, Mom said, “Does it really matter? Regardless of whether your dad is gay, straight or perhaps quite likely bisexual, he was a wonderful husband and father who gave me three wonderful sons. That’s what really matters, Kurt. It’s just too bad he can’t get past his hatred, be it self-hatred or plain old-fashioned fear of those you don’t understand. He needs to trust in the words of our Lord and learn to love his neighbor as himself.”

Later on, Trevor and I retired to our suite. One of the things I liked about it was that unlike the one we’d had at Spring Break, it wasn’t glitzy or anything . . . it was just plain nice. You could tell that the furnishings were all high quality, but not overstated. The paintings on the walls were real original oil paintings, too. It reminded me very much of Jeremy’s house . . . elegant, but welcoming.

The bathroom was truly elegant, with fine marble walls and gold-plated fixtures. The center of the room was dominated by a Jacuzzi that was large enough to accommodate both of us at the same time. When Trevor saw it, he said, “We’ll definitely have to try that before the night’s out.”

“Why not now? I asked in my most suggestive voice.

“Because I have other things in mind, my love,” he said. “In fact, I’m so horny, I could pop a nut,” he giggled as he drew me into his arms and our lips came together with heated passion. Even though my stomach was stuffed to the gills and then some, that didn’t stop me from getting an instant hard-on. It had been more than a week since we’d last made love and I’d barely even had time to jack off a couple times over at Webster Hall, so I was way beyond excited with lust when I felt our erections press into each other. The Congress could keep their medal for all I cared. I had everything I wanted right here in my arms.

“Let’s get out of these clothes,” Trevor suggested, and I wasn’t about to argue with him. I think we set a speed record for undressing in that moment - we were both so primed to make love to one another.

Trevor carried me to the king-size bed in the suite’s bedroom, barely taking the time to pull the bedcovers back. We were both primed and leaking pre-cum furiously. In the short time since we gave up on our vow of abstinence, we’d become adept at a variety of positions, but Trevor had become particularly enamored of lowering himself onto me from above. I’m not sure why, since my member is so wide compared to his, but he enjoys bottoming this way, with me on my back. For my part, I enjoy it a lot, too, as there is nothing more beautiful than watching the sight of his face as I enter him. The look of his ecstasy . . . the pure joy of my penetration is more beautiful than all the colors of the rainbow. No waterfall, no mountain lake, no last rays of a sunset casting its light across the endless peaks and valleys of a mountain range, can compare with the site of my Trevor as the pleasure of my entry washes over him.

Unfortunately, given the length of time since we’d last made love, we were primed and ready to go and we didn’t last long. All too soon I felt Trevor’s ring tighten around me and I saw his face contort into the most unbelievable look of intense bliss as sweat poured off his face and torso down onto me. His back arched and I was caught slightly off-guard as his cum rocketed out past my head and onto the headboard of the bed, then into my hair, onto my face, into my open mouth, much to my delight, and over my chest. Of course the intensely pleasurable sensations that were building in my member were incredible, and it wasn’t long before I was filling Trevor’s bowels with what must have been a very impressive load of my spunk, too.

I think I might have actually blacked out from the intensity of my orgasm for a moment, because when I came to, Trevor’s full weight was on top of me, I was no longer buried inside of him, and my head was nuzzled in the crook of his neck. He lifted himself slightly off me, looked down at me and smiled.

“God, I love you. You mean everything to me,” Trevor said before he planted his lips on mine and we kissed passionately. We were both hard again, instantly.

I know some might think it gross to go down on someone after anal sex, but Trevor didn’t seem to mind. Hell, I’d done it too. It was different when love was involved, and so we found ourselves in a slow and intense sixty-nine. I loved doing this, fingering Trevor’s prostate, rubbing his balls and sucking on him for all his worth. The appreciative moans I felt through my own member told me all I needed to know. This time we lasted a lot longer, but when we came, it was no less intense.

Not that I’d had a choice in the matter, but I’d tasted semen from two other individuals before - Gary and Sammy - and of course, myself. Gary’s was positively vile, and Sammy’s was sweet, but Trevor’s was uniquely his taste - it was a taste I would never tire of. As I was thinking this, Trevor said, “I love the taste of your spunk, Kurt. It is so uniquely ‘you’.” Turning around and snuggling up with me, we shared yet another passionate kiss, sharing our juices in the process.

We just couldn’t get enough as we pleasured each other again and again. Finally coming up for air, “Let’s go try out that Jacuzzi,” Trevor suggested.

With a wicked smile on my face, I quickly agreed.

Even with the water running full blast, it took a while to fill the huge tub. As we waited, Trevor looked at me and smiled and said, “You’re beautiful, Kurt. David and Jeremy may have what most would consider to be stunningly good looks, but they don’t hold a candle to you in my book.”

“How can you say that?” I asked. “They could be movie stars.”

“True, and their good looks are far from skin deep, but there’s just a certain boyish charm about you that shines through. Your looks are enchanting, Kurt. David and Jeremy are my friends, but I wouldn’t want to have sex with them. You on the other hand, are my dream come true. My wet dream come true,” he laughed. “You’re just so beautiful.”

“It’s amazing, Trev, but I feel the same way about you,” I replied as I threw my arms around his neck. You also have a boyish charm that I think will always be there throughout your life. I know that some would say you’re a geek, and others would call you too ‘mature’ for your age, but look at what you’ve done. I’m so proud of you, Trevor. I may be the one getting the medal tomorrow, but you’re every bit as much a treasure in my eyes. You’re beautiful, you’re handsome, you’re sophisticated, and you’re sexy as hell. More than anything else, Trev, I love you more than life itself. I’m glad we’re getting married next year. As far as I’m concerned, even eternity isn’t long enough to spend with you.”

God, we were already both hard as a rock again as we kissed each other passionately. The water was getting up near the top of the Jacuzzi, however, and we needed to leave some room for the two of us, so we reluctantly broke the kiss and turned the water off. Trevor set the timer on the jets and adjusted the flow, and we lowered ourselves into the water. This was actually my first time in a Jacuzzi, and at first it tickled a bit, but it was sure fun. It certainly was . . . stimulating.

We spent a lot of time just relaxing and enjoying the feel of the water jets against our skin as we made out with each other. I’m not sure when it happened, but I ended up on top of Trevor, my body sliding up and down on his, when his pulsing cock just happened to enter me from behind. I don’t know if he intended for it to happen. I wasn’t exactly expecting it, but the feeling of his slim dick riding up inside of me with the bubbling water surrounding me was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. We’d already had, like, four orgasms that evening a piece, but somehow we still had enough energy left to eek out one more. Man, my balls practically ached after that one, though.

I’m surprised we didn’t drown after we’d cum - we were so drained afterwards. Once we finally recovered, we made good and sure to get each other extra clean. We were wrinkled as prunes by the time we got out, however, and the water was nearly ice cold by then. I think the jets must have cut off an hour before we finally emerged from the Jacuzzi.

By the time we dried each other off and slipped back under the covers, the clock read close to five AM. Oh man! I sure hoped I’d sound halfway coherent when I received my medal. At least as full as we still were, we could skip breakfast, but at best, we’d only get about four hours sleep.

It seemed like no sooner had my head hit the pillow than we got our wakeup call. Fuck!

Trevor and I looked at each other and smiled. It’d been worth it. We quickly washed, shaved and brushed our teeth. In my case, there really wasn’t much to shave, but I wanted to look my absolute best for the ceremony. We each dressed in our brand new suits - the same ones we’d worn last night, but with a different tie. No doubt about it - Trevor looked hot, and he told me I did too.

We were taken along with Trevor’s parents, my mother and my brothers to the White House by limo, where we met with the Obamas and their children for a Sunday Brunch. I hadn’t been expecting that. I thought we were just going to meet to go over the details of the ceremony. I was way too full to eat anything, but I could hardly refuse the President and First Lady’s hospitality.

As we ate, the President spoke to us about many things. At one point, the subject of Trevor’s and my wedding plans for next summer came up.

“Yes, David and Jeremy mentioned your plans to me when we chatted the other day,” the President said. “The four of you seem exceptionally close, and it’s a shame you aren’t graduating together. At least in David and Jeremy’s case, there’s a simple solution.”

The President took a bit of his food, chewed it and swallowed, and then he continued. “Most smart kids finish their four years of high school, take their advance placement exams and get as much college credit as they can on the taxpayers’ dime, frontloading their college education, or if they think they need it, wracking up extracurricular activities they think will help to get them into a top school.

“In David and Jeremy’s case, however, they hardly need add any extracurricular activities. David’s his class President, Jeremy’s on the Student Council and has won back-to-back state swimming championships, they’re both likely to be on the school’s varsity soccer team this fall . . . oh, and they’re interning at the White House this summer,” the President said with a grin. “Academically, they’re in the top percentile of their class and you know they’ll ace their SATs.

“By the end of next year, they’ll have nearly all the credits they need to graduate, and can probably test out of the rest. With a few letters from some influential senators and representatives, and from the President, getting into Harvard a year early should pretty much be a done deal.”

My jaw must have dropped open and stayed open, ’cause the President chuckled and said, “That’s pretty much the reaction I got from Jeremy and David. I take it they haven’t said anything to you guys yet, and it’s certainly a lot to think about, but I think they’re perfectly capable of college work right now. Frankly, sticking it out in high school ’til the end would be a waste.”

“Wow,” I said. “I know it’s their decision, and Jeremy does have the Olympic Trials to think about, but it would be awesome if the four of us could all go to Boston together.”

“Still, I can’t begin to imagine getting married at sixteen,” the President said.

“I know it sounds kind of young,” I admitted, “but Trevor and I aren’t going to be any more ready two, four or ten years from now. The thing is, I’d originally intended to wait, but the thought of staying home to finish high school and being separated from him is just unthinkable . . . not after all we’ve been through. We need to be together, Mr. President, and the amazing thing is that our parents agree.”

“My husband and I were high school sweethearts, Mr. President,” my mother said, speaking up for the first time. “We met on the first day of high school and dated throughout high school. Of course, both of our families thought we were way to young to marry, but we had a dream of sneaking out and eloping from the time we were sixteen. We knew we were perfect for each other.

“When we graduated high school, we thought we would get married then, but Sanford’s parents insisted that he finish college first. His father threatened to cut him off and make him work his own way through college if he didn’t at least wait until he graduated and entered seminary. It was awful, waiting until we were 22 . . . not that that stopped us from having a steady relationship. In our eyes, we were already married, and had been since we were sixteen.

“It’s such a shame Sanford has such a blind spot when it comes to homosexuality. I still love my husband and truly miss him. In any case, I’m not willing to put my own son through what my father-in-law put my husband and me through.

“I knew Kurt had a crush on Trevor, even before he came out . . .”

“Really?” I asked. “Was it that obvious?”

“Yes it was,” Mom laughed. “Anyway, when the two of them started dating, and I saw that Trevor felt the same way about my son, I knew it was only a matter of time. It’s so obvious how strongly the two of them feel about each other. Not all high school relationships can stand the test of time, but I have little doubt that this is one that will. I know that Trevor will make my Kurt happy. I couldn’t ask for more, and I’m more than happy to bless their union.”

“It’s such a shame that Kurt is two years behind Trevor in high school . . . otherwise, he could do what I’ve suggested for David and Jeremy,” the President began. “Still, there might be some options to think about. Unfortunately, we need to get going to prepare for the Medal ceremony, so we’ll have to continue this conversation later.”

Before we prepared to go out to the Rose Garden, the president’s Press Secretary approached me and said, “Kurt, the news media has gotten wind of your story and is interested in doing some interviews with you. It seems they’re kicking themselves for not getting you on the morning talk shows - you know, Meet the Press and the like. Anyway, it seems you’re the youngest recipient of the Congressional Gold Medal in history. Although the Little Rock Nine were nerarly as young when they performed their act of bravery, they didn't receive their medal until 1998, and all approaching seventy years of age. Not only that, but that little speech your friend made on your behalf last night made quite a splash back home.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The speech young Sam Franklin gave at the banquet in your honor,” the Press Secretary stated, as if it were obvious.

“You mean that speech . . . it was on television? . . . It was recorded?” I asked incredulously.

“My mom, who was next to me said more than asked, “Honey, you didn’t know? How could you not know? There were cameras everywhere. Your getting this medal is big news back home.”

“Wow,” I said. “I was so psyched-up and out of it, I guess I wasn’t even paying attention.”

“Yeah, so anyway,” the Press Secretary continued, “we’ve got requests from all the major broadcast and cable networks to interview you. Good Morning America and The Today Show both want you on their shows tomorrow morning. Letterman and The Tonight Show would both like a shot at you tomorrow night, as would Nightline. Larry King and Wolf Blitzer would like to interview you for CNN today, as would Jim Lehrer for The News Hour on PBS. We’ve also gotten calls from NBC, MSNBC, Fox, the BBC, A&E, MTV, Revision 3, The Washington Post, The New York Times, The National Inquirer and a host of outlets I’m sure you’ve probably never even heard of before.”

“Holy sh . . . crap!” I replied.

“Obviously, we need to place limits on all of this. You should grant a few interviews with the most prominent and visible outlets. I’d recommend talking to The Post tonight, or better still, I’ll set up a news conference, and then possibly going on Larry King Live tonight as well. See how badly the networks want you in terms of granting interviews tomorrow. I think The Tonight Show’s out . . . no way you want to fly all the way across the country, so Letterman on CBS is probably your best bet for the late night talk show venue, but make sure they take care of all your overnight expenses, putting you up in a nice hotel and giving you a nice meal and all. Or go with Nightline and ABC if you prefer a more newsworthy program, and for that, you can stay right here in Washington. For tomorrow morning, make sure whichever network you select, they pay your overnight accommodations for tonight in New York, and your meals and so on. Make sure your transportation expenses are covered in both directions, too. Your best bet is to take Amtrak. Get them to pay for your mother to go with you . . . after all, it’s their dime.”

My head was spinning with all of this. Here I was about to receive a couple of medals in mere minutes, and all of this shit was flying at me at the speed of light. Reaching into his pocket, the Press Secretary took a card out and thrust it at me, saying, “Here, take this and put it in your breast pocket. What you need, kid, is a good agent. Siegel is one of the best. Between the ceremony and the banquet, we’ll give him a call. You tell him what you’d like him to do, and he’ll set everything up. Best of all, it won’t cost you a dime. He gets his cut from the people who’ll be interviewing you.”

“But what about my job?” I asked. “I’m a page and I have to be in the Hart Office building at 7:00 AM sharp tomorrow morning.”

“Something tells me the Senator will understand under the circumstances. I’ve seen him more than a few times on Nightline and The Today Show,” he said with a wink.

Just then, Mr. Emanuel, the President’s Chief of Staff came up to us and said, “Gentlemen, this discussion is going to have to wait ’til later. Mr. DeWitt is needed in the Rose Garden.” With that, he guided me outside and down an elegant walkway lined with tall white columns.

I was amazed at the scene before me as we approached the President and Sammy. A band played the Presidential March as we approached a podium that faced an audience of hundreds, or maybe even a thousand people seated out in the Rose Garden. There were lots of TV cameras, too. It was a warm, sunny day and I was already beginning to perspire in my dark grey suit. I was nervous as all get out. Poor Sammy looked to be equally uncomfortable, and he wasn’t even the one getting the medals amongst the petals of the Rose Garden.

The President began speaking, turning his head from side to side the way he usually does. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, friends, relatives, and guests. We are gathered here today to honor a very remarkable young man for his bravery and his courage. It is not very often that someone of any age so willingly puts their life on the line to save the life of another, and then after suffering adversity themselves, goes on to help the lives of so many others who’ve been victimized. That Kurt DeWitt was only fourteen years old at the time is truly remarkable.

“Our story began last summer, when young Kurt was volunteering at a Church-run camp for disadvantaged youth. He had already chosen to give up what for most boys would have been a summer filled with fun activities, so that kids less fortunate than himself might have better lives. Young Sam Franklin, then twelve, was one such kid, the son of a drug-addicted mother who had spent much of his life in foster care and on the streets.” The President put his arm around Sammy’s shoulder as he spoke of Sammy.

“As difficult as young Sam’s life might have been, sadly, it took a turn for the worse, as did the lives of so many of the others attending the camp, who were victimized by a pedophile counselor who terrorized the campers and covered up his crimes by framing one of the junior counselors. Fortunately, Kurt sensed something was amiss and took it upon himself to do something about it. When the pedophile found himself cornered and felt the need to escape, Kurt could have done what most of us would have done and saved his own skin, but instead he volunteered his own life in exchange. What an extraordinary thing for one child to do to protect the life of another.

“Throughout the whole ordeal, Kurt DeWitt kept his cool. Although he was repeatedly abused, he never panicked. Instead, he waited for the right moment, caught his assailant off-guard, overpowered him and made sure he was brought to justice. That should have been the end of the story, but for Kurt, it was only the beginning.

“Recognizing that there were still a number of boys left behind who had deep psychological scars, Kurt approached the parents of some of his closest friends . . . friends he knew had the means, and asked for their help. Thanks to his efforts, all the victimized campers have been receiving and will continue to receive psychological counseling until they reach the age of eighteen.

“And when four of the campers were found to be HIV-positive, and two of those, Sam included, were without a foster home, Kurt approached those two families again and asked if they could possibly open their hearts as well as their pocketbooks and take the boys into their homes as foster children. I am very pleased to report that, thanks to Kurt’s intervention, both boys, Sam Franklin and Clifford Daniels, who’s also here with us today, have loving, nurturing foster families and are receiving the best of medical care. After all, the street is not the best place to receive treatment for HIV, and everyone needs to be loved.

“But even then, the story continues. Kurt himself was a victim. Many victims of rape withdraw into themselves, wishing to forget their experience. Very few are willing to share and help others deal with the consequences of rape and abuse in small groups, let alone on a large scale. Kurt started by providing counseling for victims of abuse in his own school, and then he organized a school-wide presentation that was made into a critically acclaimed DVD that has recently been made available in libraries and schools throughout the US. He organized a community-wide roundtable on rape and abuse that was a resounding success . . . so much so that there are plans to make it an annual event. And even as we speak, Public Television station WGBH is preparing to make a documentary on the extraordinary story of Kurt DeWitt for their acclaimed series, Frontline.

“In spite of all this, young Mr. DeWitt is one of the most unassuming gentlemen I have ever met.” Turning to me, he said, “Kurt, I hope you always remain that way.” Turning back to the audience, he said, “Kurt plans to make his career in the Ministry. I’ve always believed that people serve God by serving humankind first. By that measure, Kurt DeWitt is off to a great start.

“Today we are here to award two Medals of Honor to young Kurt. The first is a Presidential Medal, the Young American Medal for Bravery, and it is awarded to a young person who was responsible for saving the life of someone whose life was in immediate danger. That certainly was the case with Sam Franklin.”

The President motioned for me to face him and he placed a medal around my neck. He then motioned for me to face the audience again and he resumed speaking.

“What Kurt has done since he rescued Sam Franklin goes so far beyond what the Medal for Bravery was intended to commemorate, that there was no way we could leave it at that. When I first heard about Kurt’s story, I was visiting with the ranking minority member of the Foreign Relations Committee in the Senate. Mr. DeWitt, who happens to be from the same state, was visiting at the time, along with some of his friends.

Chuckling, the President said, “I got quite an earful from one of those friends, too, I might add, but that’s another story for another time . . . perhaps a campaign ad when he runs for president in thirty years or so. Seriously, that’s no joke. I’m glad I didn’t have to debate David Reynolds when I ran for this office. He and Jeremy Kimball are interning for me this summer, and Kurt DeWitt and Trevor Austin are paging in the Senate . . . they are a very interesting group of young men.

“Notwithstanding, when I heard Kurt’s story, I enlisted the Senator’s help to see to it that young Kurt received the recognition he deserved. After a proper investigation of the facts and confirmation of the story, a joint resolution was passed unanimously by both houses of Congress, making Kurt the youngest recipient ever to receive the Congressional Gold Medal. This medal is the civilian equivalent of the National Medal of Honor, awarded for exceptional bravery and outstanding service that resulted in the saving of many lives. By every standard, Kurt has done just that, and is continuing to do that with everything he does. Even at fifteen years of age, he’s a national treasure.”

The President again motioned for me to turn to face him, and he again placed another, larger medal around my neck. This fucker was heavy! The President then shook my hand as he smiled at me, and news photographers literally leaped out and took photo after photo of us shaking hands as we both smiled at the cameras. Man, it took forever for everyone to take their photos.

Finally, the President and Mr. Emanuel led me back into the White House. As soon as we entered the main residence through a room that I later learned was the Palm Room, someone came up to me and took the medals off my neck. What a relief!

“The medals will be mounted inside a nice cherry-framed box for you, Kurt,” Mr. Emanuel explained. “That way, you can display them however you feel is appropriate. What I would suggest is that you first display them at your school. I know it might sound arrogant to you, but it’s more a statement of pride for the school . . . that they produced someone of your caliber. You also might want to consider displaying them at your church, especially after what happened between you and your father. Sending a message that an Evangelical Church can produce a morally upstanding gay hero like you could go a long way toward changing attitudes within the Evangelical community. Whether the final place of display of your medals is your home, your high school, the church where you grew up or the church where you have your ministry will be up to you.”

“That’s a lot to think about,” I said, “but I think it should be someplace public. You’re right . . . it’s not about showing them off . . . it’s about showing the world that a gay man can be a hero . . . that there are other measures of morality than sex.”

I was about to say more when someone came up to the Chief of Staff and whispered in his ear. He nodded in return and then motioned to us in another direction, while explaining. “I’m afraid we won’t be dining in the State Dining Room this afternoon. We have more guests than we’d anticipated, so we’ve had to move the banquet to the East Room.”

“How do you do that on such short notice?” I asked.

“Kurt,” he said, “At the White House, we can do anything. If you’re ever in the position of being White House Chief of Staff, you’ll understand.”

“Yeah, right,” I said.

“Don’t laugh,” came Emanuel’s retort. “If I were David Reynolds, you’d be on my ‘short list’ for sure. You have a ‘can do’ attitude, a charming personality, you cut to the chase, you don’t take bullshit from anyone, not even ranking Senators, or so I’ve heard from my contacts on The Hill, you’re honest, you’re loyal, but unlike me, you don’t have political ambitions of your own that would get in the way. In summary, Mr. DeWitt, you’d make an ideal Chief of Staff for President David Reynolds.”

“Whoa,” I said. “That’s so far ahead in the future, it’s just too hard to imagine it, you know?”

“Putting his hand on my shoulder, he said, “I never in a million years thought I’d be Chief of Staff for the first African American president myself. Life seldom takes us in the directions we anticipate, my friend.”

Walking with the Chief of Staff into the East Room, I was absolutely stunned by the scene before me. It was no wonder the President had disappeared after the ceremony . . . he was busy mingling with senators, representatives, cabinet members, and a number of people I recognized immediately that I would have never expected to see at a banquet in my honor. I recognized that the news anchors from all of the major networks were there, as were some very famous syndicated columnists. My God, there were . . . and . . . and . . . I mean, we were talking some of the most famous actors, musicians and writers on the planet. This was . . . incredible. I wondered if I’d actually get to meet some of them before the afternoon was over.

As Emanuel led me to my table up front, the President’s Press Secretary ran up to me and said, “Kurt, everything’s all set. After we finish up with the banquet, there’ll be a news conference downstairs in the West Wing. That way, all the majors can ask their questions at once and get their stories out into the press in time for tomorrow’s early edition.

“I’ve retained that agent for you and he’ll have an itinerary lined up by the time dessert is served. Before we sit down, do you have any preferences or priorities of programs you’d like to be on?” He asked me.

Wow, the man seemed so laid back on television, but he was so high-strung in real life. What a contrast!

“Well, I don’t like sensationalism,” I answered, “so that pretty much means you can cross Fox off the list. My parents say Nightline used to be good, but it’s crap now, but Letterman’s even worse, and it’d be great to get back to Washington by tomorrow night, so I’d lean to doing that interview. I definitely want to do Jim Lehrer if we can. MSNBC’s much better than average, too. It’s a toss-up between the Today Show and Good Morning America, but all things being equal, the Today Show set is cool.” I related.

The Press Secretary chuckled and said, “A teenager who actually pays attention to the news. I’ll relay your choices to your agent,” and then he was gone.

It took a while for things to settle down and for the President to finally sit down next to me at the head table. There were a few toasts made, the Canon Precentor of the National Cathedral said grace over the meal, and then dinner was served. Let me tell you, the banquet at the White House was every bit as extravagant as the one we’d had the night before at the Ritz-Carlton. That, on top of the brunch from that morning, left my poor stomach so strained, I literally wanted to take it out and leave it at the coat check for the rest of the day.

The President was seated to my immediate left and, for some reason, the reverend, the Cannon Precentor of the National Cathedral, was seated to my right. Perhaps President Obama thought we would have a lot to talk about, since I was interested in studying Theology and making my career in the ministry myself. In any case, the reverend got down to business right away.

“Kurt,” she said, “You’ve made it clear that you are interested in the ministry, and yet you insist in pursuing a gay lifestyle. How do you plan to reconcile the two when so many consider the two to be incompatible?” What a loaded question.

“Reverend,” I answered, “Pardon my French, but if you want to get into a ‘pissing’ match over the Bible, the Talmud, the Midrash, the Quran, and just about everything except Eastern religious texts, which I have yet to study, we could be here for weeks and I can still hold my own in a debate on the subject.”

“Are you serious about that, Kurt?” She asked.

“Dead serious,” I answered. “I know the Bible backwards and forwards, Old Testament and New Testament. My ultimate dream is to study the texts in the original Hebrew, the original Aramaic and the original Greek. One thing my father impressed upon me is that if you’re going to quote the Bible, you better be able to defend the copy of the Bible you’re using. I started studying the Bible when I could first read, and I do know the differences among the various translations. The one thing I have going for me is that God blessed me with a photographic memory. I only need to read something once. I may not have Trevor’s scientific mind, but when it comes to linguistic skills and the Bible and other religious works, my mind is like a sponge.”

“All right, then, Kurt,” she said, “I know it’s futile to argue regarding the well-known phrase from Leviticus, so let’s consider some other, lesser known sections of the Bible, New and Old Testament, that make it quite clear that homosexuality is a sin.”

“Before you get started,” I countered, “I’m willing to bet that some of those sections include these examples.” I then went on to cite what I figured were the most damaging examples outside of Leviticus - the sins cited before Noah’s flood, the sodomy of Sodom and Gomorrah and several other examples.

“Why yes, Kurt, some of those were among those I’d planned to cite, and there were a few others as well.” She then went on to add a few, much weaker arguments that I hardly thought were worth mentioning. If that was the best she had, she was about to get trounced.

When she was finished, I asked, “Not to sound arrogant and please don’t take this the wrong way, but is there anything else you’d like to add before I summarily destroy your argument?”

“For a supposedly self-effacing hero, you’re pretty self-confident, aren’t you?” she asked.

I noticed that we had the President’s full attention as I answered, “Reverend, since I’ve had to put up with this sort of crap from my own father since I first became aware of my sexuality, I’ve been forced to become a world expert on the subject. I know every argument on both sides of the debate. This isn’t cockiness . . . it’s self-preservation. The one thing I know is that I didn’t ‘choose’ the gay lifestyle . . . it chose me.”

I then let the reverend have it, tearing apart her arguments, one by one. I brought out contradiction after contradiction from within the Old Testament, exposing the obvious cracks in the very foundation of Judaism. Not that I had anything against the Jews - not by a long shot - but it was so obvious to me that this was the main reason for the coming of the Messiah. Jesus had to come because Judaism had been damaged by millennia of the corruption of God’s word.

Of course Christianity suffered a similar fate to a large degree, and it was for this reason among many that the second coming would eventually be necessary. Nearly a millennium-and-a-half passed between the coming of Christ and the invention of the printing press. During that time, all too much of the Gospel was subject to reinterpretation before it was finally written down, let alone set in type. Indeed, there were contradictions aplenty in the New Testament, too.

Still, in my heart of hearts I believed the fundamentals of Christianity were sound, and there were far more examples in support of Christian ideals than against them. In the end, the conclusion was clear. Were Jesus alive today, he would without a doubt be supportive of gay marriage. His teachings left little doubt.

When I’d finished, the reverend said, “Kurt, you obviously know your Bible quite well, and while I disagree with the way you reached your conclusion, you do draw a compelling argument. I’m sorry I put you through that, but I had to know what you know.”

Looking past me, she then said to the President, “Mr. President, you were right. I’d be delighted to have him as a student in Seminary right now, but he obviously needs to get a more rounded education, first. The poor dear must be bored silly in high school. I’d say, let him finish his sophomore year, do some SAT prep work if he must, but for someone like Kurt, SAT scores are meaningless.

“After next year, he would do great in BU’s Sociology program. They have a great Classical Literature program, too, which he should minor in. He’ll thrive in that environment.” Turning to look at me, she added, “Kurt, you should also take some economics and business classes, and maybe even get an MBA. No matter what you do with your future, you’re going to need a business background. For better or worse, religion these days is a business.

“After getting a strong background in Sociology, Classical Literature and Business, Theology and the ministry should be a breeze.”

“I’ll talk to Brown,” the President said. “I think he’ll be receptive to the situation.”

“I’m sure he will,” the reverend agreed.

I wasn’t sure who they were talking about, but I had a feeling my life was about to change direction in a major way. . . .

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