Rich Boy: Awakening - 12. Chapter 12

“Now, now, my little Mikie.” Nana murmured to him as he cried into her shoulder. He always felt safe like this, with the woman who actually cared for him holding him in her arms. His parents were coming home today, and he knew what that meant. Why did they have to come home and ruin his good time? “It’s going to be okay, my little angel.”

“I’m not an angel.” Mikie cried. Only she called him that. It was their private name, only used when no one else could hear. The others in the house always watched her when they could, and would report anything they didn’t like to his parents. He’d learned that lesson when he was little. Now that he was bigger he knew how to play the game.

“They’re home, now, Worthington.” She said in a different voice. He sniffed once and straightened up, going to the bathroom without needing her gentle reminder. It wasn’t hard to run the water now. He was growing taller every day, and he had his face scrubbed clean of any sign of tears by the time his parents had made it upstairs.

“Where is my little one?” His mother’s voice cooed from the doorway in that fake tone she often used around him. Did she really think it fooled him? She wasn’t anywhere near as nice as Nana, and she didn’t care about him the way Nana did. Still, he wiped those thoughts from his mind. His parents weren’t like other people. They could tell what he was thinking so he banished those thoughts, locked them in the little box like Nana had shown him and he put a proper little smile on his face.

“Mom!” He cried out happily as he exited the bathroom and saw his mother. She held out her arms and he rushed over to her, although he didn’t run. No, he must never run, and he hugged her. “You’re home!”

“You are home, dear.” His mother corrected him. That was right. Do not use contractions.

“Sorry, Mom.” He said softly as she broke the hug. “I will improve.”

“Now where did you learn that word?” She asked with a smile. “That is a big word for a little boy like you.”

“Nana taught me the word.” He said happily, certain that was safe to say, and it was because his mother gave Nana an approving nod before taking his hand.

“Come, dear, we must say hello to your father.” She said as she took him out of his play room.

“Did he bring me something?” Worthington asked excitedly. He could be excited, as long as he didn’t go overboard with it. Too much excitement would mean trouble, but no excitement would mean more trouble because his parents would think he wasn’t happy to see them. No, that thought needed to be locked up too.

“Yes, he did.” She replied though. “We are very happy with our little Worthington. Everyone has told us what a good boy you were while we were gone.”

“I tried to be good.” Worthington said happily as they entered his father’s favorite room on this floor. It was a sitting room that overlooked the spacious back yard.

“There is my little heir!” His father called out, opening his arms up as they entered. That was a good sign. It meant father was in a good mood, and he could hurry, not run, across the room for a hug. His father mussed up his hair a bit as he broke the hug. “Have you been a good boy while we were gone?”

“Yes, Father.” Worthington said and felt that little pushing at his head that meant his father was looking in his mind.

“Why, yes you have been.” His father said after the pushing went away. “Here you go.”

This present was a silver pen with his initials carved into it. He had been learning to write, and the pen was just the perfect size for his little fingers. His father meant it to show him that he did remember what his son was learning, and cared about him.

“Thank you!” Worthington called out and tried to lock out the thought of the puppy his Nana had let him hold last week. That had been a real present, even if he hadn’t gotten to keep it.

“What was that?” His father’s voice caused him to shiver, and a whimper escaped him as his father’s eyes loomed large in his, and that pushing began again. This time he tried to block it out, but he couldn’t, and his father’s mind roared into him like a lion hunting prey. Worthington tried to hide the box in a swirl of darkness, casting out the puppy memory in the hopes that his father would grab that and think he had it all, but his father was smarter than that and while he caught the puppy memory, he kept on looking until he found the box.

Show me what is inside. His father’s mind-voice was filled with a fury that felt like the sun blazing on his skin. That was bad for him, his mother had always told him. The sun would burn his fair skin and make him into a wrinkled leather-skinned geezer before he was forty. Whatever that was, it sounded horrible. Don’t dither, boy, show me!

The box came into view no matter how he tried to hide it, no matter how Worthington had tried to divert his father with thinking about his mother and dried up skin, or how he’d caught the gardener and the housekeeper doing the nasty. Oh yes, he knew all about the nasty, where the man poked his thingy into a woman’s hole. He’d heard servants talking about, bad men his father would want to know about…

Show me! This time his father’s command filled him and nothing he could bring up obscured the box. His father had seen the others, but had guessed his son was desperately trying to hide things if he was bringing up these other things. Yes, the housekeeper and the gardener would be punished, as would the two drivers whose crude language had given his son all too fine an education on the birds and bees at a tender age. Still, what he wanted to see was this box, and what his son was putting in there, and as Worthington’s last defenses crumbled the box was before him and he opened it.

Amazed, in the end that a little boy had managed to hold him off for so long. It spoke volumes of his potential that was for sure. Little Worthington would be the first Adept Sinclair in four generations. Even as his father perused the contents of the box, Worthington could hear his father thinking, thinking about him and his potential, and the future he had dreamed for his son.

Most mage boys showed their first bit of magic when they were between eight and twelve. They would develop shields first, and occasionally read the thoughts of others around them. Or make something they really wanted fly off a shelf and into their hand first. Whatever it was, they would at first be able to do little things like that. Worthington had done his first bit of magic at age three, summoning a drink to him. Fortunately it had been with a lid on it, just waiting for his Nana to hand it to him.

Children who showed mage gifts early on had to be handled carefully. They were too young for regular lessons, but their untrained gift could be a danger to those around them, or themselves. Worthington’s father had taken steps. His Nana was a mage, and could keep him under control as young as he was. Until he hit puberty his power would only grow slightly. It was when he would hit puberty that his real power would begin to grow. No matter how early mage boys started their powers, they were always weak until puberty.

Girls were different of course. Female mages rarely showed any of their power before their sixteenth birthday. When they did, it was normally very weak. Still, as soon as it started manifesting, they could be trained, and as they trained, their gift would increase exponentially. By the time they had been active for three years, they usually reached their full strength unlike boys who started early, but took up to ten years after puberty hit before they reached their full potential. Worthington the Fourth’s wife had manifested her gift at fifteen, and reached her full power by nineteen. The woman’s foolish sister hadn’t manifested until after she turned eighteen, but had reached her maximum potential in less than two years, albeit under the wasted training of a Light Path mage instead of a proper Dark Mage.

“Wife, look at this.” Worthington’s father said in a cold voice after he’d gone through the box and emptied it of all its contents. They lay around the floor of little Worthington’s mind like the contents of a play box dumped out for inspection by the adults. He was crying with the pain of his father in his mind, but he knew it was too late. His father knew, and moments later his mother knew.

Little Worthington had no choice but to march in between his parents to his Nana’s room. He knew what they were going to do, he had seen it in their minds, but could not warn her to get away. She was surprised when they entered her room without knocking, as was the custom in the house.

“What do you think you were doing, woman?” His father demanded in a cold voice, and Worthington’s Nana showed fear on her face before she snarled at him wordlessly. A shield flared around her, a glowing nimbus of angry red light that made Worthington shrink back against his father’s leg with a whimper.

His parents did something even as a bolt of raw power leaped from his Nana towards his parents. He knew that if it hit them that it would hurt them badly, but a single shield appeared around his parents, a glowing golden light that protected them. The bolt of power dissolved as it hit their combined shield, and his parents moved in a single motion, both launching bolts of their own power that tore through Nana’s shield and she collapsed in a heap. His father rushed across the room while his mother held him protectively. He could see the images his father ripped from Nana’s dying mind as they were shared with his mother.

Worthington’s eyes leaked tears as his emotions were torn in two. He didn’t like his parents, but he wouldn’t want to hurt them. Nana he loved, but she had tried to hurt his parents, and he might have been hurt too if her bolt had hit. Hadn’t she cared about him?

She had, the memories he could see his father sending to his mother said, but not as much as she cared about herself. Worthington buried himself in his mother’s dress as the awful memories came into him, and he lost all sense of proper behavior and wailed. Nana had been sent by father’s brother to corrupt him. “Make him weak.” The brother had said. “Fill the boy’s head with caring, and love and all those good things people prate about. Make him weak so when the time comes he will be easy to overcome.”

She had done as he wished, getting herself hired into Worthington Sinclair’s household. At first the little brat had been nothing but a pain, but as he grew older, and she carefully taught him about good things as she’d been instructed, she found that she was coming to care about the child herself. In her efforts to make him weak, she’d become weak herself, growing to care about, and then love the child. That had been her undoing in the end, her dying thoughts said. If she had cared less about him, she’d have used compulsion instead of trying to teach the child to hide himself. Compulsion would have held up much better, and in the end she had been uncovered.

“We’ll have to cover up this mess, but it shouldn’t be too hard.” Father snarled as he looked at his blubbering child. Well, so his brother thought to make his heir weak, did he? Damage had been done, but his son would be a great Adept one day. He had time to undo the damage, and he would start on that immediately. His son was the most important thing in his life, after himself, and he’d do almost anything to keep his son safe.

“Dearest lords and ladies.” Stacy moaned as they came out of the trance and Worthington, no Michael, finished integrating the piece of the geas into himself. The compulsions his father had set after that incident unraveled from the geas, and he cast their ashes far and wide across his mind, knowing they would never return. Oh, how he hurt. He had expected something else, some experience of torture, or maybe murder, or some similar evil he might have inflicted, but not this.

“How can you stand it?” Jamie whispered in horror from next to Worthington. “They just killed her! I mean, she might have survived the bolt if they’d helped her, but instead they just raped her mind until she died!”

“She didn’t do it because she loved me.” Michael whispered. He’d been holding to that belief, that the woman he’d called Nana had been good to him, taught him goodness because she was good, because she cared. Well, she did care about him, but not enough in the end. She hadn’t started it, continued it because she was a good person, but because she was a tool of his Uncle.

His father had cared more about him than she had, in the end.

That was a bitter pill, and as he swallowed it, made it a part of himself now and forever, he understood why the geas had given up this part of itself when he’d opened the sphere. He could not hide from the geas what he was about. It had known, and it had chosen a bitter part of itself to lose, one of the oldest parts of itself, with the compulsions that had formed the foundation of its creation.

This memory threatened to bring him and the geas closer, in a way that would make the geas stronger, not weaker. I am necessary the geas was telling him. You were made weak by your uncle’s agent. You need to be strong. I was made to make you strong.

“No.” Michael whispered aloud as he sat on the cool stone floor. Stacy’s rock-like presence was gone from his mind, as was the burning flame of Jamie, but they were still there, sitting in front of and next to him, and he could feel their emotions rolling off of them. Rage and disgust came from Stacy, while Jamie felt like stunned disbelief.

“How do you feel, son?” Stacy said in a tired voice.

“I’m okay.” Michael said slowly as he looked at her face. She looked as exhausted as he felt.

“Are you sure?” Jamie asked. “I mean, we were just on the edge of all that, and it was ghastly. All those things you knew as a kid, I mean, it wasn’t like you were a kid at all, but a miniature adult.”

“I was a kid.” Michael said defensively. “No matter what else, at least she gave me moments of being a regular kid.”

“But…” Jamie started to argue until Stacy cut him off.

“I think we all need to rest after this.” She said firmly. “Both of you, go to your room, lie down and rest. If you don’t feel better in the morning, I’ll call in sick for you both. Maybe the next time we do this we’ll do it on a weekend if it’s this draining.”

“I think resting is a good idea.” Michael agreed, and stood up, ignoring Jamie as he made his way back upstairs and to his room. Jamie started to follow him, but got the message when Michael shut the door in his face. Right now he couldn’t face any of Jamie’s judgments or opinions. No matter that Jamie was his best friend, and he loved Jamie a great deal, Jamie could not quite understand.

He had not lived Worthington’s life.

Who was he, really? He’d invented this Michael persona, probably based off that little boy he’d been, that Mikie his Nana had loved, or had come to love after she’d agreed to hurt him, make him weak. That was the bitterest part of the pill. Her being what she was, a spy and saboteur hurt him now, because he’d thought of her as the one good thing in his young life. He’d chosen Mikie, and later Michael to be his common name here, because it represented the part of himself that wasn’t Worthington. Now to find out that Mikie was a construct created by his Uncle, the man who had killed his family and nearly killed him?

Michael had come into existence because of a variety of factors. The innate goodness of Miguel, the young man he was having sex with when the lightning struck, and whose abilities he was leeching, taking forever. He’d taken more than that secret part of him, the part that remembered all the time about magic, had intended to take. What he’d taken had ended up putting him where he was today, happy in a household full of Light mages, with friends and friends and more friends. Were they making him weak, as his Uncle had intended? Would he turn around one day and find himself dead because he’d allowed Michael to make him weak?

What could he do? What should he do? Should he be Worthington, or should he be Michael?

“Michael.” Richie’s voice startled him and he looked up from his bed to see the young man, Stacy’s son, standing in the doorway. He had a serious look on his face, but he entered the room without pausing and shut the door behind him. Michael watched him silently as Richie came over and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“So I guess Stacy sent you.” Michael said bitterly. “Maybe to see if I was losing the fight with Worthington?”

“How can you lose a fight with yourself?” Richie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Either way, you will win.”

Wordless laughter brought a smile to Michael’s face, and his thoughts broke out of the round-robin they had begun to devolve into. Richie laughed with him, and made a motion for Michael to scoot over a bit. Then he laid down next to him, and they were both staring up at the ceiling.

“Mom shared those memories you absorbed with me.” Richie said after the laughter had died down. For a second, Michael was indignant, but he found he was actually glad, so he didn’t say anything aloud. When he didn’t speak, Richie continued. “That’s some heavy shit that just got laid on you. Not at all what I expected after what happened with Carl.”

“I know.” Michael said softly as his mind drifted to wondering how Carl was doing.

“Were you weak with him?” Richie asked.

“Huh?” Michael asked.

“Carl, how you handled him.” Richie clarified. “Was that weakness or was that strength?”

“It was… I don’t know.” Michael answered with his voice drifting off as he realized that he really didn’t know. His father would of course call it weakness. Richie he knew would call it being strong. Stacy had said it takes real strength to free a person you had wronged and stand there, ready to accept whatever punishment they saw fit to mete out, even though you had enough power to just walk away and ignore them. Certainly the way his father would have handled it required that you be stronger than the other person, but something in side Michael said it took a person of stronger will, stronger character to do what he had done. Which would win in a fight, he didn’t know.”

“Strength of power, or strength of will, it is tough to decide which is strongest.” Richie said although Michael knew Richie was not reading his thoughts.

“That’s exactly what is going through my head right now.” Michael confirmed.

“Yes, I know you well enough to have guessed that.” Richie chuckled again. “You and Jamie are closer friends, but I don’t think he understands you quite as well as he thinks he does.”

“He’s still naïve about things.” Michael chuckled. “Which is confusing because you aren’t half as naïve as he is.”

“That comes from being a Healer.” Richie said. “It makes you think differently, look at the world differently. Jamie’s been lucky. He’s been able to remain a child longer.”

“Yes.” Michael agreed, and some of his anger with Jamie’s reaction faded. He cherished that quality about Jamie, and shouldn’t take his anger out on Jamie when his lack of maturity made him react to a situation this way. No, that had been wrong of him, and he’d have to apologize for it.

“Strength of character is what I’d choose, but you, you don’t have to.” Richie said. “You have both. You are strong of character, and strong in your power. You’ll be an Adept one day, that much your father was right about. I have a feeling that if you can weather these crises well, you are going to be one of the best Adepts this world has known in centuries.”

“Yeah right.” Michael chuckled, but fell silent as Richie didn’t laugh with him. Instead Richie lay there quietly for several more minutes before he squeezed Michael’s arm and got up. He left Michael alone, and a glance at a clock showed it was nearly one in the morning. With a sigh he got up long enough to undress for bed, and then he crawled in, intending to go right to sleep.

“I’m sorry.” Jamie’s voice from the doorway pulled him from the edge of sleep and he sat up in the darkness of his room.

“It’s okay.” Michael said. “I’m sorry for overreacting to you.”

“Forgive me, please?” Jamie said in a tight voice.

“You’re forgiven.” Michael said without hesitation, and Jamie padded over, crawled into the bed and embraced him. Jamie was wearing nothing but a pair of underwear, just like Michael, and as they hugged, Michael felt Jamie kiss him gently. They did that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s presence before Jamie fell asleep. Michael followed him into sleep soon after, smiling that this was the first time Jamie had ever spent the night in his bed.

They woke the next morning, arms and legs intertwined and with raging erections. Neither of them did anything about that, although Jamie kissed him on the cheek before leaving for his own room. Michael got up and pissed as soon as his went down, and got ready for school. He felt better than he had the night before, but his mind was still dwelling on the newly integrated memories.

Going to school was the best thing he could have done. The sheer normalcy of that day was a healing balm on his troubled thoughts, and by the time his last period, and Sports P.E. rolled around, he was feeling back to normal. No, he was feeling better than normal he realized as he participated in the flag football game, wrestlers against football players. He felt more whole, more complete than he had before.

“What’s up?” He asked Jeremy after they had showered and were heading out into the parking lot. This was the only class he shared with his second-best friend, but he had noticed Jeremy looking a little out of it. They both got into Michael’s car, which he now drove three days a week to school, at least on those days when he knew he’d be giving Jeremy a ride home. Jeremy flat out refused to get on the back of his bike.

“Nothing.” Jeremy said, but was otherwise silent as Michael drove to his trailer park home. Jeremy had to watch his brothers today, and was a little surprised when Michael got out of the car and followed him inside.

“Michael!” The three boys called out when they saw whom it was coming inside with their brother.

“Okay, what are you guys up to?” Michael asked the younger boys with a smile. They had that look he knew meant they’d been up to something.

“Nothing.” Terry said with a smile.

“Right.” Michael found it hard not to laugh at the exact word that Jeremy had used earlier. He ended up playing Monopoly with them, while Jeremy sulked in his room. None of them seemed to know what was up with him either, but shrugged it off. As for Michael, he was determined to outwait Jeremy if he had to in order to find out what was up. Their mother got home first, and smiled when she saw Michael there. She seemed to actually like him quite a bit, and immediately invited him to stay for dinner.

“Has Jeremy told you?” She asked him as he helped the boys put up the Monopoly board. He’d won of course. The boys just weren’t quite as ruthless as he was when it came to making money in the game.

“Told me what?” He asked innocently.

“Oh dear, that boy.” She laughed. “He’s been a wreck ever since Coach Vanderbilt called him last night. There’s going to be some scouts from a couple of colleges at the meet this weekend. They’re really looking at the Seniors, but he’s told them to keep an eye on Jeremy. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes, it is.” Michael said and meant it. That was probably what was bugging his friend. After a few more minutes, he excused himself and went to Jeremy’s room, entering without knocking.

“You’re still here?” Jeremy asked with a little surprise. His room was an absolute mess, and Michael stepped around two piles of clothes before sitting down on the edge of Jeremy’s double bed.

“Yes.” Michael said and looked at his friend with real concern. “She told me about the scouts.”

“Oh.” Jeremy said as he flopped back down on the bed and put an arm over his eyes. “Yeah, you got me. I’ve been freaked out. I mean what if I mess up bad?”

“There’ll still be next year.” Michael reminded him. “You’re only a Junior.”

“I know, but it’s still important to make a good impression.” Jeremy murmured.

“I have every bit of confidence in you.” Michael said to him.

“Oh gee, thanks.” Jeremy said glumly and then let out a sigh. “I’m fucking nervous and I hate it.”

“Jeremy, it’s just a meet.” Michael said, putting his hand on his friend’s arm. “Just a meet like any of the other’s we’ve had. If you make a good impression, you make a good impression. If you don’t, you can always do it next year – and you’ll have to do it next year anyway to get the scholarship, but no matter what, you’re going to be okay.”

“I hope so.” Jeremy said as he let out a big breath while moving his hand so that he clasped Michael’s. He gave it a big squeeze. “You know I appreciate this. You stayed here, didn’t you, until you figured out what was up with me?”

“Yes.” Michael said as he squeezed his friend’s hand. “You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me too.” Jeremy said and let loose with another heavy sigh. He took his other arm off from over his eyes, and those hazel orbs met Michael’s with a directness that was almost unnerving. Without even thinking about it, Michael’s mind drew Jeremy into a very light rapport. It was nothing like he would experience with another gifted. Jeremy was as mundane as mundane could be, but the physical contact and the direct gaze, and the emotions that were seething inside Jeremy pulled Michael in.

There was confusion there, and massive contradiction. Michael had been afraid to know for sure what was going on in Jeremy’s mind, and now that he was in there he didn’t know much more than he had before. No, that was not quite right. There were definite feelings there towards him, and they went far beyond just friendship. Jeremy had been dreaming about him, both awake and asleep for weeks now, ever since Michael admitted being gay.

Jeremy was a virgin! That surprising bit of news was amazing enough, but even more amazing was that Michael was his first crush, of either gender. All the stories about girls had been just that, stories. Jeremy had always thought that maybe he was just asexual. While he frequently did masturbate, it was more for relief than anything else. No fantasies had come with masturbation, until Michael had come along.

But there was his family. His parents worked so hard for everything in life, and they had such dreams for their sons. Jeremy’s parents weren’t necessarily gay haters, but they would be so disappointed their first-born would never give them children that he didn’t want to disappoint them. His heart broke over that, and his nightmares were about his family crying when Jeremy announced his love for Michael.

There were other nightmares too, about Michael spurning him. There were other issues there, but Michael felt like he was invading Jeremy’s privacy and slowly began to extricate himself from the handsome guy’s mind. Jeremy was handsome too, very handsome. His skin was tanned a golden-brown from hours in the sun. His body was lean, but covered in muscle. Jeremy kept on a strict diet to keep his weight for wrestling, and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. His close-cropped black hair was practically glossy, and he had wide, full lips and a straight nose that turned upwards just a tiny bit.

“You’re in my mind.” Jeremy whispered as his eyes widened. There was no fear there, just a sense of wonder. “It shouldn’t be possible, but I can feel you in there.”

“I am.” Michael admitted as he finished pulling out. “I’m sorry, it just happened.”

“How?” Jeremy asked without showing any growing fear. There was just amazement there, as if he’d been given something wonderful. “I mean, it’s like I could tell you were watching what I was thinking there, and you saw all of it, didn’t you?”

“Not all, no.” Michael said softly. “I haven’t wanted to do that. Your mind is your mind, and I should respect it, but it’s like I just got sucked in there.”

“How?” Jeremy repeated.

“Let’s just say that magic is real.” Michael said softly and remembered how Stacy had introduced him to magic. He smiled as he took his free hand, the one that Jeremy wasn’t still clutching as if it was a lifeline, and caused a little ball of light to appear there. It was golden light, and he remembered the golden shield his parents had summoned in that memory and pushed back the association. The golden light shimmered in the room, and Jeremy’s eyes widened even more, but his hand didn’t leave Michael’s.

“Wow.” Jeremy said softly. “Can I learn to do that?”

“No.” Michael said and there was real sadness in his voice. “It’s something you’re either born with the ability to do, or you’re not.”

“And you’ve managed to keep it secret?” Jeremy asked quietly. “I mean, if people knew… they’d…”

“They’d panic.” Michael finished for him and Jeremy nodded. “They’d be scared, or jealous, or envious. They’d want what they cannot have.”

“It’d be ugly.” Jeremy stated succinctly. “No, it’s better if people don’t know.”

“They can’t know.” Michael added. Jeremy frowned, but he squeezed Michael’s hand.

“You can make me forget, right?” Jeremy asked. There was a little fear in his eyes, but not much. “I mean, that’s how you can keep it secret. Wipe people’s minds when they found out. If you can read minds, it would make sense you can do that.”

“I can, but I don’t want to do that to you.” Michael said. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. This thing between us, I can feel it too. How deep it is, I don’t know, but I do want to find out, if you’re willing. Remember what I said about your future? I mean that. I want you and me to be friends, if not more, for a long, long time.”

“I’d like that too.” Jeremy said softly and he was smiling. “I don’t know if I want more, I mean, my parents, but you could read their minds, right? You’d know? Then you could tell me.”

“Do you really want that?” Michael asked him softly.

“No.” Jeremy said and the hope that appeared in his eyes faded. “It’d be wrong.”

“Yes, it would.” Michael agreed, but he’d do it for Jeremy if he asked. That made him think for a moment. If he’d do that for Jeremy, what else would he do?

“If you’re not going to make me forget, are you going to do something?” Jeremy asked quietly.

“There’s a spell I can use that will let you remember, but make you unable to tell or even think about it without me around.” Michael said. “I’ve already set wards in you, weeks ago, that would warn me if anyone messed with your mind. There are others, as you can guess, with this kind of ability and some of them don’t like me.”

“Part of me thinks I should be mad you’d done something like that without asking.” Jeremy said, but he squeezed Michael’s hand and grinned. “Then another part of me is glad that you did that. I think it means you care about me, right?”

“Yes.” Michael said as he reached out again, and gently entered Jeremy’s mind. This time, as he cast the spells that would protect Jeremy’s mind and Michael’s secrets, he shared a little of the conflicting feelings he had for Michael, his physical interest in the guy’s body, his interest in the guy’s mind, how much he enjoyed the friendship, and the desire for something more. He also shared his fears, his worry about whatever they might explore interfering with their friendship, and his worries about the future. Would he marry? He expected to, but how would that affect any relationship he had with Jeremy? He showed all of that to Jeremy, who soaked it up like soil soaking up the rain, and Jeremy sat up as Michael pulled out of his mind yet again.

“You can do that anytime.” Jeremy said softly as he leaned forward a bit. Their lips touched briefly, and there was a tingly feeling on Michael’s lips as Jeremy pulled back. Their eyes met again, and this time Jeremy’s kiss was more firm, if still as tender as before. It was so hard for Michael to not deepen it, to not lick his tongue out, but he let Jeremy set the pace, and moaned at the pleasure of the touch. He was fully erect in his shorts, and loved the feeling of Jeremy’s lips on his, the warm breath on his face as Jeremy exhaled through his nose, and then he was being brought in close as Jeremy put his other arm around Michael and hugged him tightly. His own free hand began wandering, touching Jeremy’s arms, feeling the strong muscles of his back, and all over.

“You can do that anytime.” Michael said to Jeremy as they broke the kiss and smiled goofily at each other. Kissing was nothing new to Michael, but it was like he’d just had his first kiss. He wanted to leap and shout. He wanted to rush outside and tell everyone…no that would not be good.

“I think I might.” Jeremy said as he leaned forward to collect a quick kiss again, and then he started laughing. “I am so nervous. What do we do now?”

“Well I could take your virginity.” Michael said with a grin. “The only problem is, I want it to be an experience neither one of us will ever forget, and I don’t think your brothers will enjoy hearing the whole thing.”

“Oh god no.” Jeremy laughed. “Those little pervs would want to watch and take notes.”

“They would.” Michael giggled, and felt foolish. He was giggling! A Sinclair didn’t giggle!

“I don’t know what I’m ready for yet.” Jeremy said a little more soberly. “Do you–could you–would you mind taking it slow? I mean… is there anyone else?”

“No.” Michael said firmly. “You’ve got all my attention when it comes to the romance department.”

“Good.” Jeremy said. “I mean, I know you’re experienced, but I don’t… damn it! Part of me wants to say you’re mine and that’s it, and part of me says I have no right when… you know, when I won’t even tell my parents and don’t even really know what I want.”

“Let’s just say we’re both going to be figuring this out for a while.” Michael said with a smile and a squeeze of that firm, wonderful hand. “Now, I think your mother’s about to call us for dinner. How about we get decent and go out there?”

“Okay.” Jeremy actually blushed as Michael took a glance at his crotch, which was well-tented. His brothers gave them both weird looks when they came out of the room laughing together, and leaning against each other for support. Jeremy’s mother just smiled and told them dinner was ready.