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

Stonegate Stables - 18. Chapter 18

As promised, he called me every night. I lay on the couch in the dark den with the phone in my lap, flipping it open quickly when it rang, not wanting to miss a second of his voice. He never said where he was or what he was doing, just that he was okay and that he loved me. Although I told him that I loved him too, the phone calls did little to fill the void. I slept poorly and didn't even indulge myself in bedtime orgasms - Vincent had apparently taken my sex drive with him, along with my heart.

I left that Thursday for the next-to-last GP, back in CA again, but this time in the Monterey area. I was in pretty sorry shape emotionally and Adam stuck close when he was free. We spent the nights together, usually with Adam curled around me from behind, trying to be some comfort to me.

Saturday night we snuggled for a while, then Adam kissed me deeply and my body responded. It had been twelve days since Vincent had left. Twelve days since I'd had an orgasm, and raw need suddenly surged through me. I pulled Adam onto me, grabbed his ass, and held him tight against me as I thrust my cock across the hard ridges of his stomach. He responded immediately, pushing my legs apart with his own to get us closer and letting his weight add to the friction between us. It didn't take long and I came so hard I thought my heart was gonna stop, bucking under Adam like Calvin on a bad day. Afterwards he took us both into the shower and kept me there until the hot water and his gentle, soapy hands calmed me down enough to sleep.

I felt better in the morning, not 100%, but good enough to be interested in winning.

That didn't happen, but Cal took 2nd again, with Donna 3rd. It was a good win by Adam. He ran through the jump-off like his ass was on fire and it paid off, beating me by a full half second. We stayed sober that night, laying awake talking for a long time in the dark, him on his back with my arm and leg across him, my face in the curve of his neck. He stroked his hand along my back, up and down again, occasionally cupping my butt gently for a moment.

Adam thought he was in love with Dylan, as I'd suspected, but hadn't said anything to him. Although he was four years older than Adam, Dylan was younger emotionally, still partying in town a couple nights a week. Adam, on the other hand, had traveled the country for years and was ready to settle down with a steady partner and begin making memories.

He was a good man, gentle and strong, and it bothered me to think of him pining away for Dylan, but Adam was philosophical about it, hopeful that things would eventually work out.

It made me think of Vincent waiting for me all those years. I told Adam how Vincent had finally given me an ultimatum, and Adam agreed it might come to that, but not just yet. For now he was content sleeping with Dylan occasionally and entertaining himself with TJ or Vincent and I when Dylan was busy.

I confided everything about Vincent's attack, the bad dreams, the night he'd hit me, his departure, everything, and he listened quietly, asking a question now and then. When I finished and heaved a big sigh, he rolled to me.

"What Vincent went through is something you and I can only imagine. You need to let him do this.” When I began to protest, he pressed his fingers to my mouth. "He said he'd come back and you know he will, Sean. He loves you like I can only hope someone will love me some day. Be there for him when he gets home."

I fell asleep thinking about what Adam had said and gradually I felt better. It would have ruined us going on the way we were, and I saw that our only hope was for him to do what he could to finish it.

All this mental cheerleading was great until another week went by, the last two days of which Vincent didn't call. I had no idea where he was or what might keep him from calling me and, of course, only the worst possible scenarios ran through my head.

Finally, Jesse called in a hurry, saying only that everything was okay and they'd be home in a day or two. He wouldn't give me any details and his call didn't go far toward making me feel better.

By the third night without talking to Vincent, I was a basket case, pacing the long hall from the kitchen to the den, willing the phone to ring, praying that he was safe. I knew nothing about Ray, how dangerous he was, what Vincent was headed for when he drove away that night. I finally wore myself out and lay down on the couch.

I was just dozing off, staring into the fire, when the gate alarm dinged. Only Vincent, Dylan, and Jesse had gate codes. Dylan was out of town and I wasn't expecting Jesse. I sat up, every nerve ending alert, my ears straining for the sound of the car.

Then I heard it, the throaty growl of his BMW as it pulled up to the front of the house. My heart tripped into double time and I ran to the front door, yanking it open just as he stepped onto the porch.

My cry of greeting never made it past my lips as I stopped in total shock at the sight of him. If I hadn’t known it was Vincent by the car, I’m not sure how long it would have taken me to recognize him.

His head was shaved, he’d let his beard come in, and his left eye was swollen almost shut with a rainbow of muddy colors surrounding it. He smiled at me and it turned into a grin as he saw my astounded expression.

“Hey, babe.”

At the sound of his deep, warm voice, my feet unglued themselves from the floor and I leaped into his outstretched arms, knocking him back a few steps. "Oh, God, you're home!"

He grabbed me into a huge hug, lifting me off my feet and laughing as I wrapped my legs around him. “Goddamn, it’s good to see you.”

I couldn't let go of him. I dropped my feet to the porch and hung onto him while the empty place in my heart filled back up. My face was buried in his neck and the familiar smell of him made me dizzy. I felt my cock begin to fill as he stopped laughing and gathered me to him, his arms softening into a close embrace. There were a million things I wanted to say to him, but after my initial outburst, I couldn’t find my voice.

He had no such problem, talking non-stop as he gripped my shoulders and stared into my face from six inches away. "I missed you so fucking much.” His voice was rough with emotion and his mouth slid up my neck as he backed me across the threshold into the entryway, kicking the door shut with his foot. I was locked onto his eyes as he guided us into the house, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought he must be able to see it through my shirt.

"All I could think about driving home was getting my hands on you. I've been rock hard for two solid hours.” He kept walking until we were on the deep carpet of the hall, groping each other with eager hands.

"I've gotta have you now," he said as he ripped the buttons on my jeans open. My pants dropped to the floor and I got one foot out of them as he pulled his cock out of his fly; he was as hard as I've ever seen him, the head of his cock dark red and dripping. He hooked a foot around the back of my leg, dropped to his knees and caught me as I went over, crawling onto me as I hit the floor.

"Come here," he growled, grabbing my face with steely fingers. Our mouths locked together again, his weight pressed me into the carpet, and as his erection rubbed along mine, I began to climax in huge, shuddery convulsions that shook our kiss loose and left me gasping. He stroked into the wet heat of my cum a couple times, then his face twisted with a deep groan and he erupted between us, sliding through it all as he pumped himself empty.

He collapsed onto me and laughed weakly. "Jesus, did I need that."

I lay there until I had enough breath back to speak. "God, it's good to have you home. I missed you so much.” I pushed him up off me a little so I could look at him again and suddenly I couldn’t shut up. "Are you alright? What happened to your eye? Why did you shave your head? Where's Jesse? God, I love you!"

He laughed and silenced me with a kiss. "I'll tell you everything later. Right now I just want to be with you and not think about anything but how good you look. More than anything, I missed just seeing your face every day." He cupped a hand to my cheek and leaned down to my mouth, licking his way across my lower lip, then probing between my lips with his tongue. "I love you, Sean, and I'm never leaving you again."

We lay there for a bit, then pulled our pants the rest of the way off and went up to bed. He made love to me somewhat more slowly than in the hall, but still with an urgency that had us grasping each other too hard, our kisses bruisingly passionate. He fucked me roughly and I loved every second of it, needing to feel him in me, on me.

By the time we came, we were breathless and almost fighting each other in our need for comfort and release from the tension of the past three weeks. When he stopped shaking, I pulled him into the shower and washed every inch of him, letting my hands reassure my heart that he was really home. The hair on his head was just starting to come in, soft dark fuzz that felt like velvet under my hand.

Afterward, we lay in bed on our sides, knees bumping, holding hands, and touching each other's chests and faces. I was fascinated with his beard, nuzzling my face into him and running my fingers through the thick black hair. He lay still watching me for a long time and I could see him begin to really relax. Finally, he smiled a little. "You sent Jesse after me, didn't you?"

"I just told him you'd left. He found you?"

"He sure did, and we found Ray together. The police have him. That's why I look like this. I was arrested along with him and would probably still be in the slammer except for Jesse.”

He told me the whole story then. He had gone to Dallas and Jesse had caught up with him the next morning. Vincent wanted to check the clubs Ray used to take him to and that paid off cause after a few days they found a kid who was one of Ray's 'boys', kids he raped like he had Vincent, then turned loose on the streets to work for him. The kid wanted out desperately and told them where Ray lived.

They checked it out, and then went to the local police who agreed to Vincent getting inside. He shaved his head and waited a few days for his beard to grow in, then set up a scenario with the kid to get into Ray's house. The whole thing would probably have worked great, except that a federal agency had a sting operation going, part of a nationwide crackdown on child prostitution. Vincent got arrested in the raid and spent two nights in jail before Jesse and the local cops could convince the feds that he was one of the good guys. He would have to go back to testify at the trial, but Ray would never see daylight again, so we were free of him.

Vincent fell asleep easily and slept through the night, waking up before me and sucking me first to consciousness, then into oblivion as I lost myself in his mouth. He grinned at me, his lips shiny with my cum as I pulled him up to me, overjoyed to have him whole and healthy again. It took us an hour to get out of bed and we emptied the Kleenex box while we were at it.

In the shower, he scrubbed a bar of soap over his head, grimacing at the feel. He stilled, watching me carefully as I ran my fingers across the hardness of his skull and I felt a little tingle in my nuts.

"Shave it.” I swallowed hard. "Please."

He smiled slowly at me, his eyes narrowing, leaned forward to kiss me with lots of tongue, and then handed me the razor. When I was finished, he stuck his head under the spray, then pulled back for me to take a look, eyebrows raised. My mouth dropped open and he grinned. I'd never been much into the skinhead look, but on Vincent, it had me hard in a heartbeat. Back to bed we went and it was nearly 10 when we finally dove into cold cereal, too hungry to make anything more complicated.

Over breakfast, he told me they had brought the kid, Matt, home with them. He was with Jesse now, but Vincent wanted me to meet him. I watched him closely as he talked about Matt, his voice quiet, his eyes restless. Matt had been 15 when Ray first got hold of him, two years younger than Vincent, and had been on the streets for a few months before that. He was now 17 and Jesse was doing a background check on him, seeing if he had family, a police record, etc.

When they came over that afternoon, Matt went straight to Vincent, standing close to him, not meeting my eyes, even when Jesse introduced us.

He was a skinny kid, all knobby shoulders and saggy jeans hanging from his bony hips; about Vincent's height, but at least 30 pounds lighter. His pale brown hair was clean but hacked off raggedly, as though he'd done it himself without benefit of a mirror or sharp scissors. In many ways, he reminded me of Barney, the neglected Henderson horse we rescued, tattered and abused but with some potential. As ratty as he was, there was something about him that made you watch him and wonder what he'd look like with a few more pounds on him.

He didn't talk much and when he did, it was in an undertone to Vincent or Jesse, who were sitting on either side of him on the sofa in the den. I knew that what they'd been through had created a bond that I didn't share and I felt like a distinct outsider. I went into the kitchen to get us something to eat. Vincent followed and after watching me ignore him for a few minutes, took my shoulder and turned me to him, pinning me against the counter with his hips.

"He's young and scared. He'll warm up to you."

"I'll live," I told him. "It's just an afternoon."

He was silent for a long moment and I suddenly understood that this was much more than 'just an afternoon'. "What's goin' on?” I asked him.

"He trusts me."

"So do I," I reminded him, trying not to sound like a jealous jerk, but starting to feel like one.

He glanced up at me, holding my gaze with serious eyes. "I want him to stay with us for a while. He needs what we can provide. Safety, stability. Love."

I remained silent and he pushed away from me, moving restlessly around the kitchen. "Sean, I had no one. I can help this kid. We can help him."

"Did you sleep with him?” I asked it softly although I was pretty sure of the answer.

"Yes.” He walked back over to me, crowding me a little until I met his eyes. "But I didn't have sex with him. After we found him, he stayed with Jesse and me, and he slept in my bed. He was terrified and I held him while he had nightmares, the way you did for me."

I looked away from him, uncomfortable with the reminder, and he wandered off again. "I knew I wasn't the only kid Ray did that to, but I didn't do anything about it.” He turned to face me from across the room. "I need to do this. I know I've asked a lot of you lately. Of us. Just one more thing. Please." I could hear the strong emotion, the plea, in his voice.

I looked at him, his dark eyes steady on my face, thought about what he'd been through, how much I loved him, and I knew that he would never hesitate if I asked something of him. I walked to him, put my hands on his shoulders, and pressed my forehead to his.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

"Oh God, Sean. I love you so much.” He pulled back a little to look at me. "Thank you.” He wrapped me up for a long hug and the feel of him against me worked its usual magic. As long as I had Vincent next to me, I felt like I could do anything, be whatever he needed me to be.

"Just be yourself. He needs to see that men can be gentle and loving with each other, like you and I are together. I think just being around us will work wonders."

I nodded, wondering what we were getting ourselves into. Matt had been on the streets for more than two years; you don't come out of something like that unscathed. He could rob us blind in the middle of the night. Maybe he was into drugs, as skinny as he was. God knows.

"Give me some time to catch up to your feelings for him." I was sincere in wanting to help Vincent with Matt, but right now, I only wanted the rest of the world to go away for a while as Vincent and I put our lives back together. Right at that moment, I didn’t want to share Vincent with anyone else.

We took a couple trays of sandwiches and drinks back to the den and this time Vincent sat down on the floor at my feet, leaning back against the chair between my knees. Matt watched him, but didn't leave the couch and the security of Jesse. We ate and talked a while longer, then Jesse got up to leave. Matt stood nervously and followed Jesse to the door, looking back to make sure Vincent was nearby. As Jesse drove away, I could see Matt wilt a little.

I walked a few steps closer to him with the warmest smile I could conjure up. "Wanna go pick a room?" He gave me a frightened glance that barely touched my eyes when he nodded.

I moved toward the stairs and waited for him to follow. He had brought a paper bag with him, and the sight of that poor kid clutching a crumpled paper sack that contained everything he owned in the world tightened my chest to the point of tears. I turned away from him, clenching my teeth hard, and walked up the stairs. He trailed along behind me with Vincent following a bit further back. I stopped in the center of the hall and gestured with my hand. "Our room is at the end of the hall. There's a room near ours, and a couple more at the other end. You can pick whichever one you'd like. Want to see them?"

He shook his head, his eyes downcast, and lifted a hand slightly away from his leg, down the hall toward our room. I turned in that direction and stopped at the door to the large room that had a view of the back of the property, as ours did. He glanced inside, then edged past me, and set his sack on the bed, looking around him.

The room was done with my folks' old furniture, a walnut bedroom set, heavy and dark against the soft blue of the walls. A large over-stuffed chair sat in one corner near the small fireplace, a cozy corner for chilly winter nights, and a corner cabinet held my previous TV and stereo equipment.

He took all this in silently while Vincent and I watched from the doorway. He sighed deeply, then walked over to me and met my gaze for the first time.

"Thank you." This was the first look I'd gotten at his eyes. They were a deep greenish blue, heavily lashed, too old for his face, and with a sudden rush of awareness, I saw past the boy he was, to the man he would become.

It was almost a whisper when I said, “Matt, I promise you’ll always be safe here. No one will ever hurt you.” I wanted to pull him into a hug, or even just touch his hand, but knew that it was way too soon for that. He nodded and started a slight smile before he remembered he didn't know me very well. He hitched a bony shoulder and walked over to look in the bathroom.

"We'll eat around 7. Do whatever you like 'til then. You can come down and help if you want, around 6.” He nodded and I left him standing there in the middle of the room.

Vincent and I had a glass of wine in the den, curled up on the couch together. He'd been home almost 24 hours and we still couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We went in to the kitchen around 6 to start dinner and I didn't hear him come in, but when I turned around to get the salad stuff from the fridge, Matt was standing in the doorway.

I tipped my head toward the fridge. "Hey, Matt. You wanna make us a salad? There's lettuce and some other stuff."

I was sitting at the island, working on the shish-kabobs, stacking chunks of chicken, onion, little tomatoes, pineapple, zucchini and red pepper onto wooden skewers. I glanced at him once; he was methodically patting dry the carrots he'd washed. He worked across the island from me and I looked up now and then, but he was immersed in his work; peeling and chopping. A bit later, he asked me where bowls were and I pointed to a cupboard. Other than that, he silently made three great salads, full of things I liked, but rarely bothered with like raisins and chopped pecans. Someone, somewhere, had fed this kid pretty good at some point in his life.

He helped Vincent with the grilling, basting the kabobs with Italian dressing each time Vincent turned them. He was easy with Vincent, smiling at him when Vincent said something that amused him. I noticed Vincent moved slowly when he touched Matt, putting a hand on his arm now and then, patting his shoulder when he came inside for another platter. Vincent smiled at me, stopping on his way back outside to nuzzle into my face and kiss his way from the corner of my mouth to my ear. I knew a 'thank you' when I felt one and returned his kiss warmly, wanting him to know I was truly okay with Matt being here.

Dinner was kind of quiet; Matt was silent while I filled Vincent in on the GPs he had missed. We cleared the table, me putting leftovers in containers and Matt drying while Vincent washed. It was odd having another person with us, but not uncomfortable. For all his silence, he didn't seem to be an unfriendly boy, just quiet and withdrawn, which I suppose he had good reason to be.

We headed for the den, assuming our usual positions, Vincent lying back against an arm of the couch, me between his legs. Matt stood watching us until we were settled, sitting down a few feet away when I patted the cushion next to me. Vincent pulled me in for a long hug, smiling at Matt over my shoulder as he did so. We turned on the tube and got lost in a movie.

When I stretched out a little, my bare foot came up against Matt's thigh. I didn't move it and after a moment, I felt the light touch of his hand as he rested it on my ankle. He shifted around a bit, slouching down to lay his head against the back of the couch and prop his feet up on the coffee table, but he never moved his hand from my leg. Figuring that too many men had had their hands on him already, I was going to let him get comfortable touching me.

After the movie, we all went up to bed. Matt stopped at the door to his room, looking at me with a ghost of a smile around his mouth.

"Thanks for lettin' me stay here," he said softly. Vincent tousled his hair and walked on into our room. I smiled back at Matt, not saying anything. Gradually his smile widened into the real thing. His face was almost delicate with high cheekbones and a wide mouth that curled up slightly at the corners, even when he wasn’t smiling.

"Sleep good," I told him and followed Vincent to bed. Matt had closed his door all but a few inches and I closed ours about halfway, so that we could hear him, but he couldn’t see our bed from the doorway.

Sometime in the early morning, I woke to an empty bed. Our door was open and I walked into the hall, peeking into Matt’s room. He was curled into Vincent’s arms, crying softly. Vincent raised his eyes to me and in the light from the hall, I saw that they were wet as well. I watched them until Vincent turned his face to Matt's, then I went back to bed.

Vincent didn't come back to our room that night. I imagined that in time, I would be playing the same role of protector to Matt, but right now, my bed was empty and I wasn't happy about it. I grabbed Vincent's pillow to me and tried to fall asleep.

Copyright © 2011 Gabriel Morgan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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