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    R. Eric
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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.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

North Meets South, Worlds Collide - 12. Chapter 12

Nick and I had birthdays in the same month. So we had a joint celebration in the middle. His was on the eighth, mine was on the twenty-second. We did it a weekend in between.

“So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” I asked Nick at the table in the restaurant.

He shrugged. “I was planning to spend it with you guys.”

Tony smiled. “We’ll be in Asheville.”

“You’re welcome to come. You’re family.” I said.

Nick looked at me uneasily. “This is the mountain family?”

I nodded. “Hayseeds and all.”

“Will they welcome another Italian, Yankee Catholic? Even if I don’t go to Mass now?” Nick asked cautiously.

I shrugged. “You’re my step-son. Of course, they will.”

Nick grinned. “Okay, but if I hear one banjo…”

“Shut up.” Tony shoved his son’s head lightly with a grin.

 

Then Tony and I celebrated his thirty-eighth birthday. This time, I made him dinner. A true Italian dinner. Boy, was I sweating that one. I made eggplant parmesan! I even made garlic bread as I had watched Tony do so many times. And I had a couple of surprises for him.

As he came home that evening. I had the lights in our home dimmed, a table set formally with china, crystal and lit candles. Our home had a delicious smell now.

Tony’s face scrunched as he walked in. Then he saw me and his eyes grew.

“Mitch!” He smiled.

I had gotten my old uniform when I was cop cleaned and pressed. I wore it as he came in, spinning the handcuffs in my right hand. “You always wanted to see me in my old uniform. Well, here it is.” I waved my hand over it as I wore it. “It’s all here, except the gun.”

He shook his head. “Oh, you don’t need a gun.” He grinned. “I’ll go willingly, officer.” He held his hands out to be cuffed as he came over. Then kissed me.

I smiled. “Buon Compleanno.”

He chuckled. “I’ll make you an Italian yet. You’ll see.” Then he sniffed. “Is that…”

“Your favorite. Eggplant Parmesan. And a special dessert.”

His face widened as he grinned. “Is desert you?”

“Okay, one of two desserts.”

Dinner was great, soft music and I even had a wine for him which I shared. I still didn’t get the wine’s appeal, but who was I to question thousands of years that said otherwise? And I only had one glass. It tasted like I was licking a wooden board and a hint of grape.

“This may not be Italian, but…” I brought out his cake.

His eyes grew seeing the candles. “What kind of cake is that?”

“A tiramisu layer cake.” I placed it in front of him. “And thirty-eight candles. And I plan to be around when I can double it for you.”

It was a pleasant evening, ending with me throwing him against the counter as I frisked him. “You have the right to remain silent.”

Tony chuckled. “Make sure everything’s clean.”

My hands roamed over his body paying attention to his crotch and ass. He liked his silk boxers, which didn’t offer much in protecting him from my probing fingers on his cock, or the crack of his ass.

“What are the charges, officer?” Tony asked.

“For being criminally sexy.”

Tony chuckled. “I guess I’m guilty if you say I am.” Then he looked at me. “You do have the keys for those, right?”

I grinned. “Do I?” Then I was a cop again. “Let’s go.” I escorted him in the bedroom where I unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling the tie off and laid it across the bureau. Pushing his shirt open and pulling his shirttail out, I ran my fingers in his chest hair. After all these months, my desire for Tony only increased. I unfastened his belt and slid his pants down. Then pushed him down on the bed and straddled his body. “Am I still attractive to you?” I asked as I began to unbutton my shirt.

“Oh, yes.” Tony nodded, saying it in a hoarse whisper. “Feel my cock. You’ll feel how much I’m attracted to you.”

I smiled down at him. I did reach back, my fingers taking hold of his stiff, hard cock. My doing it made him moan. “I can feel you are. Everything that’s about to happen, happens without your hands.” I smiled and stroked his cock, making him moan again. I then pulled his hands up and handcuffed him to the headboard, fastening the both together, leaving him no choices. Then I pulled a long handkerchief out and covered his eyes.

“Wow.” Tony grinned. “Kinky.”

“Lightly kinky.” I nodded, then smiled. “But no pain ever. I’d never hurt you.” I kissed him.

Tony smiled. “I know. I trust you.”

“And I’ll never betray that,” I said quietly. “I love you, Tony.” And brought out a feather he hadn’t seen and now wouldn’t see. Licking and nipping his erect nipples lightly, he took in a breath quickly. Then brought the feather across his nipples, which hardened as it went lightly. I inhaled his scent, making my erection harden. I slipped the rest of my clothes off. I felt his body temperature rise and brought out some ice from an ice bucket. As I paid oral attention to his cock, I used the ice up and down his body, circling his nipples and he was moaning more. After all this time, I knew when he was about to cum, and I would stop right before he did. I used the massage oils to increase his sensitivity. And do it again. The alternative hot body and cold were sending some interesting signals through him. The tickle of the feather increased that sensitivity. This went on for over an hour, maybe two.

“This is killing me!!” Tony moaned smiling but covered in sweat. “I wanta cum!!”

“I’ll let you go soon,” I promised. Keeping him on the bottom, I did it again, only this time I got him in me. “Don’t move,” I commanded and I did the movements. It was not much time before he was making a sound of a long grunt through gritted teeth and then he literally exploded in me. I felt him cum in a mighty way in me. Once, twice, three and four times!! I smiled as he was gasping. Then uncuffed him and uncovered his eyes.

He blinked a few times, then smiled at me. “Where…did you…learn that?” He said as he regulated his breathing.

I shrugged. “The internet’s for more than looking up stock options or seeing how the market is…or looking up porn. Has no one ever done that for you before?”

He shook his head. “Never.” Then he grinned at me. “What about you? You haven’t cum.”

I shrugged. “This was about you. I will.”

Tony growled. “It’s my birthday. I’m making you cum now.” He rolled us over. And he did what I did to him, taking me in him and did the work. Then after I came, he smiled down at me. “I love you, Mitch. Thank you for the best birthday I’ve ever had.” Then he kissed me in that all-consuming, hungry kiss.

“I love you, and always will,” I promised wrapping my arms around him, bringing him closer.

 

Going to Asheville, we took Tony’s car. Asheville was farther than Derby had been, but we made good time. I had emailed and mailed by snail mail what we intended to do. We were going to my grandparents. Mom’s parents. I didn’t want to push Mom and Dad. Especially not Dad. My parents’ farm was attached to my grandparents’ farm, but we’d go to my grandparents. They lived in a horseshoe valley, meaning one way in and one way out.

“You’re grandparents know we’re coming, right?” Nick asked still uncertain from the backseat.

“Yes,” I said looking at Nick. “And they know about Tony and me. They have plenty of room.”

“But were they receptive?” Tony asked. “About us.”

I shrugged. “They’re not like the McKenzies, they’re Sams. A little more educated and more aware, but we’ll see. If not, there are plenty of hotels.” Then grinned at Tony. “….with room service.” I watched Tony’s lips curl up when I said that.

“Dad.” Nick grinned. “What did Mitch give you for your birthday?”

I smiled at Tony, who was blushing already. “You’re too young to know.”

“I’m nineteen!” Nick laughed. “It was something sexual, wasn’t it?”

“If you were a hundred, you’d be too young,” Tony said flatly.

“Could you walk afterward?” Nick chuckled, then sat forward more. “Come on, Dad, you give me hope! When I’m old and decrepit, I’ll still have great sex!”

“Decrepit!?” Tony balked. “I am neither old or decrepit! I’ll turn this car around, don’t test me!” Tony was using his fatherly authoritative tone, but I saw Tony’s smile.

That only made Nick laugh harder.

Tony looked at me. “Is it too late for an abortion?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

“Damn.” Tony griped.

Nick sat up behind his father’s seat. “I missed you, Dad.”

Tony smiled at Nick in the rearview mirror. “I know. I plan to be around a while yet.”

 

I gave directions as we got closer. At last, we were pulling up the long gravel driveway. And I mean long. Weaving here and there we rounded before a large light green Victorian house.

“I should have told them to paint it light blue,” I said to Tony.

“Next time.” Tony shrugged.

We walked toward the back door. Company came to the front door, that wasn’t us. We weren’t company. As we approached, the door opened as a tiny elderly woman smiled at me. About the same size as my mother, but her hair had been black and now streaked with gray. Then she nodded to Tony.

“Welcome.” She said happily. “Welcome all. Come in.” She waved to us.

I hugged her and stepped back. “Grandma, this is Tony Delveccio, my fiancé. This is his son, Nick Delveccio.” I motioned toward her. “Guys, this is Margret Sams, my grandmother.”

Tony nodded and offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.” Then he looked at me. “Do I say Ma’am here? Is that okay?”

I laughed knowing anywhere else saying Ma’am was not what you did to a young woman. Many women in other places could take offense if we thought they were old. “We say Ma’am to every woman, it’s a sign of respect.”

Grandma shook her head. “No handshaking though.” Then she smiled and hugged Tony. “If you’re marrying my grandson, you’re family.”

Tony smiled as he hugged the little woman gently. “I wasn’t sure how you’d see me.” He explained.

Grandmother smiled and laughed. “Well, I admit, I don’t understand it, but if my grandson loves and wants you, who am I to argue?” Then she looked at Nick. “Welcome, Nick.” And hugged him, too. “You’ll be my first great-grandson. It will be fine.”

Nick’s eyebrows rose but smiled. “Thank you.”

“Whose fancy car is that?” I heard a gruff voice. And my grandfather walked in. He was in his seventies now. Then he grinned. “Is that my little buddy?”

“Little buddy?” Tony asked me in a whisper.

“I was little once,” I said back. “Hi, grandpa!” And I introduced Tony and Nick to Theodore Sams.

“It didn’t make sense when your Mom told us, but…” he shrugged. Then looked at Tony. “So, you’re a Yankee, huh?”

“Well, really…” and I elbowed him lightly to stop Tony’s lengthy explanation how he didn’t consider himself a true Yankee as his immigrant family had come after the Civil War and Tony then smiled and nodded. “I afraid so. From New York City. And Italian.”

“And Catholic,” Nick added.

Grandpa shrugged again. “At least you go to church. It’s the same God.”

I grinned at Tony. “I told you. Southerners don’t split hairs about the immigration thing, you’re from the North, therefore a Yankee.” I said softly to Tony.

“Mary and her husband are coming tomorrow for the day tomorrow. Earl and Pat will be over for dinner with their girls.” Grandma said. “Your Mom is home cooking there. You can go over.” She said hopefully.

“You have two Uncle Earls?” Nick asked.

I nodded. “Dad’s youngest brother is an Earl, and Mom has a brother named Earl.” Then smiled. “But they are totally different. This Earl is more sane.”

Grandpa nodded. “Well, Mitch knows the place. There are several bedrooms vacant. Get unloaded and pick a couple.” He waved to me.

I showed Nick where he could stay and where Tony and I would be.

“Your grandparents are pretty nice,” Tony observed.

I grinned. “That’s because they are nice.”

Nick burst into the room as he always did. “This house is pretty sweet.” He marveled. “I have a fireplace!”

I chuckled. “You do.” I agreed.

Tony pointed the wall opposite the bed to the fireplace there. “We have one, too.”

Nick went to the window looking over the expansive countryside. “So this is a farm.”

I shook my head at him. “I guess you’ve never seen one.”

“On TV,” Nick said. “But this is a real farm!” Then he pointed out the window. “There’s another one way over there.”

I nodded. “That was our farm. Where I grew up.” Then gave a shrugging nod. “Well, I was raised on both, but the house over there is where I grew up.” I reached for Tony’s hand. “I’ll show you around.”

“Is that your Dad?” Nick asked.

I looked over toward the other farm. “I think so.” I shrugged. “One way to find out.”

Nick turned. “Don’t take this wrong, but you and Dad need to do this. I’ll see him and your Mom later. I’ll look around here. Okay, Pop?”

I was a little pleased when Nick called me that with a smile to me. “Pop. Is that going to be your name for me?”

Nick grinned. “It just makes sense.” He shrugged. Then he smiled bigger. “Mio padre poco.” Calling me his little papa as he crooned and hugged me. “Papa!”

I hugged him back. “E non te lo dimenticare!”

Nick stood back instantly. “That was Italian!?”

Tony shook his head. “You love to show off that college education you’re getting.” He muttered.

“But I understood him! Mi capisci?”

I smiled. “Naturalmente ho capito si. Sto ancora imparando, ma ho capito che.” I told him I did but was still learning.

Nick grinned bigger. “You’ll put Uncle Al to shame! He’s been in the family for twenty years!? You’ve only been in the family for seven months!”

I shrugged. “I’m motivated.”

Tony shook his head. “Go bother a cow or something.”

Nick grinned at his father. “He wants you badly, Dad to learn so quickly.” He walked out of the room, then stuck his head back in. “Cows are those big things on four legs, right?” Then disappeared.

“The ones that moo,” I shouted as Nick left, then smiled at Tony. “I do want you badly.”

Tony wrapped his arms around me. “I gathered.” He kissed me. “I want you, too.”

 

As walked across the field, Tony kept checking the bottom of his shoes every few steps.

“Stop that,” I growled. “You’ll see a cow paddy before you step in one.”

“Just checking.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are such a city boy.”

“Yep.” Then Tony sniffed. “It smells weird out here.”

“Yea, it’s called fresh air,” I commented.

“Oh.”

The house I grew up in was maybe not the pretty house as my grandparents across the field, but it was welcoming to me. A dog woke from his nap and stood ready to bark, then saw me and began wagging his tail and walked over slowly. He was old now at about fourteen years!

“Joe!” I smiled and the black and white dog about the size of a Labrador or German Shepherd. He was a mutt of several breeds of dogs.

Tony wasn’t that sure if he could trust Joe. “Yours?”

I knelt down and received a welcoming lick from the dog.

I shrugged. “Well, not officially, but he came about twelve years ago. No one knew where he came from or who he belonged to and just sort of stayed. He’s really Grandpa’s, Dad’s and my dog. We feed him, so I’d have to say, yes.”

Tony smiled and tentatively reached for Joe. “But he’s friendly.”

I chuckled. “Doesn’t he look friendly?” Joe wagging tail told he was and Joe sniffed Tony’s hand and it was done. Joe approved of him.

 

Inside, I heard Mom working in the kitchen as some wonderful aroma’s greeted us. Opening the backdoor carefully, we stepped in. Mom looked up, then smiled at us. Her eyes held relief and gladness we were there.

“You did come.” She smiled. “I wasn’t sure you were.”

I nodded. “I said I would be here.” Then pointed to Tony. “We would be here.”

She nodded with a bigger smile. “I’m glad.” She walked over hugging me, then nodded to Tony. “Welcome to Morgan’s Branch.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Tony nodded back

We walked in farther. Then heard the backdoor open and my father walked in. He saw us and was about to walk out again. I can only say, my heart was really hurting when he was going to do that.

“Daddy, please?” I begged, my voice breaking in the pain I felt.

His shoulders stiffened as he stopped. “Daddy?” He repeated softly. “You haven’t called me that in a while.” He turned to me, and I saw the pain in his eyes, too. “You were little then.”

I walked toward him. “I miss you, Daddy.”

I watched as tears form in his eyes. “I thought you hated me,” Dad said.

That hurt even worse. “Aw, Dad. I never hated you.” I explained. “I hated what you did, but how could I hate you? You’re my father. And at one time, you were my Daddy.” I walked closer reaching out to touch him on the shoulder. “I remember how you would come in my room at night and cover me up, afraid I was cold. I would have nightmares and you would hold me. Then there were times I just wanted to be close to you and you seemed to like it when I’d crawl into your lap, and I’d go to sleep as you watched TV, the whole time stroking my back as I listened to your heartbeat.” Now I was crying. “You protected me. You loved me once.”

He was shaking his head, the tears now flowing. “I never stopped. You were my little boy. I would do anything to protect you.” He said as his voice also broke. “I do love you, son. When you were born, I saw you, so tiny and I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.” He hugged me hard, his hands going over my back like he was taking me in physically. Then he pushed me back as those hands took my head, a hand on each side. “When you told me you….” he hesitated. “…had those feelings. I was so scared.” He shook his head. “Not for me, but for you!” He cried. “AIDS had just begun and it was killing…people like you. And I knew that people would treat you mean, even try to kill you.”

I nodded as I cried with him. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“When Dr. Rollo said he could cure you,” Dad explained. “I jumped at the chance it would work! I had to take the chance. If it would save your life, how could I not?”

I shook my head. “But it didn’t, Dad,” I said softly. “You were born with blue eyes! You can put color contacts in, fool everyone that it’s some other color, but at the end of the day, those contacts have to come off. You will again have blue eyes.”

He nodded. “When you married Susan, I thought it was done. You were cured, but then a little later, you said you were gay again…I didn’t know what to do. I just knew you would die!”

I shook my head. “But I’m not dead. I hated what you did.” I confessed. “It took me a few years to see it, but I knew you were scared. That you did it to protect me. But I’m not going to change. I can’t change.”

Dad nodded, hugging me again. “I see that now.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said. “I am you.” I grinned at him wiping the tears from my own face. “I’m you and Mom.” Then I laughed. “I have this huge family. And I mean HUGE!! All those people in Derby, I’m connected to all of them because of you. All those coming tomorrow, I’m connected to because of Mom. They understand what I am, they don’t like it maybe, but they accept it.” I touched my father’s face. “Accept me as I am. I tried to change for you, but I can’t. Don’t hate me. You don’t like that I’m gay, fine. You don’t like that I’ve chosen a man to love, fine. You can even hate my relationship, but don’t hate me. And don’t dislike Tony because he’s gay too. He’s a good man, Dad. He does love me. I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt. I love him, Dad. Get to know him. You have a grandson at Grandma's and Grandpa’s. Tony’s son. They are both part of me now.” But I hugged Dad again. “But I need you, too. I love you. You are my father.”

Dad hugged me back as he cried some more. “I will.” He sniffed. “I promise to try. Just give me more time. I’m working on it.”

“I owe you my very life, Dad. And Mom. Take what time you need.” Then turned back as I saw Mom was crying in her apron and Tony was wiping his own face and sniffed with a sad smile to me.

Dad nodded with a smile, wiping his face again. “I’d like to know you, Tony. You have my son’s heart.” Dad said walking toward Tony. “You and my son have been together since…when?”

Tony smiled. “Last April. We met in church.”

Dad’s eyes grew. “In church!?”

I nodded. “We go every Sunday. Well, I go every other Sunday, I work every other weekend.” But I smiled, pointing at Tony. “But he goes every Sunday.”

Dad smiled a little more. “That’s good. I saw the fancy car in the drive over there. What do you do?”

“I used to do acquisitions and mergers, then I did investments and stocks,” Tony said. “I’m doing it now for a new firm that just opened in Charleston.”

I smiled at Tony. “And he’s very good at it.”

Dad nodded. “Apparently.”

Copyright © 2017 R. Eric; 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.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

I hope the aversion therapy aspect is fictional. I would hate to know that anyone I "know" had been through such a traumatic event.

 

My parents were basically fundamentalists, even subscribing to the FRC magazine (the über-homophobic Family Research Council). But they never tried to convert me through therapy. They knew I was too stubborn. I'm the only one who wasn't baptized/joined their church. I'm sure some parishioners wondered about the PK (Preacher's Kid) who rejected the church.

 

But culturally, it just wouldn't have been proper to confront me. Lots of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. We just ignore the stuff that disturbs us.

Edited by droughtquake
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On 12/21/2016 06:33 PM, droughtquake said:

I hope the aversion therapy aspect is fictional. I would hate to know that anyone I "know" had been through such a traumatic event.

 

My parents were basically fundamentalists, even subscribing to the FRC magazine (the über-homophobic Family Research Council). But they never tried to convert me through therapy. They knew I was too stubborn. I'm the only one who wasn't baptized/joined their church. I'm sure some parishioners wondered abut the PK (Preacher's Kid) who rejected the church.

 

But culturally, it just wouldn't have been proper to confront me. Lots of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. We just ignore the stuff that disturbs us.

Unfortunately, it isn't fictional. That did happen to me. And as I wrote, I had to come to the understanding that Dad was scared for me. That's why he did it. I've never forgotten in. I did forgive him, but it happened.

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I am so sorry for what you went through growing up and finding yourself, but I am also very happy you found your Tony and are sharing your life with us. **HUGS** to both of you.

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Oh...
before I read the reviews above and your response, I was rather dismissive. I thought the father's reaction to be too good to believe. A wishful thinking "change of heart" (I mean I know his love never really changed) in the father.
Yet you present it so vividly it did move me in spite of my scepticism. I am happy for you and your ability to understand and to forgive, which I cannot but admire.
Even though we only get to see Mitch's horrible conversion experience through memories and his telling about it it sounds awful enough to justify any feeling of resentment and anger.
Thank you for sharing

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On 12/22/2016 04:15 AM, mayday said:

Oh...

before I read the reviews above and your response, I was rather dismissive. I thought the father's reaction to be too good to believe. A wishful thinking "change of heart" (I mean I know his love never really changed) in the father.

Yet you present it so vividly it did move me in spite of my scepticism. I am happy for you and your ability to understand and to forgive, which I cannot but admire.

Even though we only get to see Mitch's horrible conversion experience through memories and his telling about it it sounds awful enough to justify any feeling of resentment and anger.

Thank you for sharing

My forgiveness was hard, but being mad and angry all the time is exhausting. My husband had the harder time forgiving Dad, but I couldn't believe he did it to be mean. He believed he could cure me. Otherwise he wouldn't do it.

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Kev

Posted (edited)

I was never close to my father as a child... Mum had cancer as she carried me, but chose to have me rather than the Radiotherapy that would have killed me. It was too late when I was born as it was advanced ... He never forgave me and he never accepted me. He beat the crap out of me and threw me on the street for being gay, but accepted my married brother when he came out.

 

Never saw him for years and regret it now because when I did it was on his death bed.

 

Really hope Mitch's dad comes back in his life. 

Edited by Kelvinvictor
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