Dark Chocolate and Raspberries

ark Chocolate and aspberries Sui Lynn Published by Silver Publishing Publisher of Erotic Romance ABOUT THE E-BOOK ...

Author: Lynn Sui

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ark Chocolate and

aspberries

Sui Lynn

Published by Silver Publishing Publisher of Erotic Romance

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the South African Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated and is punishable by imprisonment and a fine." Cover Artist: Reese Dante Editor: Lee Rowan Dark Chocolate and Raspberries © 2011 Sui Lynn ISBN # 9781920484408 Attention Readers: This book uses US English. Thank you. All rights reserved. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

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Note from the Publisher Dear Reader, Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together. Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families. If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales on pirate sites of this title, you can report the offending entry to [email protected] Thank you for not pirating our titles. Lodewyk Deysel Publisher Silver Publishing http://www.silverpublishing.info

Dedication

To Angie, You keep encouraging me even when I start to get frustrated. I can't say enough for believing in me and always having an encouraging word. To Julie Lynn Hayes, Thanks so much for the lyrics. There would be no 'Light at the End of the Tunnel' without you. You're always willing to help and lend a shoulder for me to whine on. I can't say how much I appreciate it. Thank you, Sui

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Coke: The Coca-Cola Company Corvette Stingray: General Motors Company (GM) Yamaha YZF R1: Yamaha Corporation Everclear: Luxco Jacuzzi: Apollo Management X-box: Microsoft Corporation Tylenol: Johnson and Johnson Services, Inc

Sui Lynn

Dark Chocolate and Raspberries

Preface December 04, 2009

"Who are we here to see?" Taj Davis looked skeptically out the window while his boss, Dr Hondo Browne, parked the car outside the gymnasium of Saint Mary's High School. "You haven't mentioned any names." Taj pushed his chestnut-brown bangs back out of his eyes, annoyed at being kept in the dark. His work-study position while attending Trinity University was student assistant to Dr Browne, the head of the music department. Over the last two years, Taj had often accompanied him on recruiting trips to interview prospective candidates for the music program during the summer, but this time he'd been given no information about the candidate. "I recently recruited St Mary High School's senior soloist, Dylan Michaels. They're having their final concert of the season tonight. I brought you to listen to him." Dr Browne smiled at Taj. "He's going to be a bit of a handful, but I want you to see him perform. His potential is astounding." Dr. Browne got out of the car and Taj joined him, his tall, athletic frame towering over the—as he put it, height impaired—director. "He must be something else if you're dragging me 7

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here, and even dressing for the occasion. You never wear suits. I think the last time might've been during the spring concert tour, and then it was only a sports coat." Taj rolled his eyes as they walked across the parking lot towards a gym, their breath freezing before their eyes in the frosty winter air. "It would've been nice to let me know so I could pick up some Tylenol. Two hours of off-key high school music—really, it's not fair to subject your helpless assistant to this kind of torture." Dr Browne chortled. "Oh, they're not that bad. Just the opposite, in fact." Taj looked around and smiled, seeing the gym converted into a concert hall for the occasion. Climbing their way up the bleachers, they took seats in front of the temporary stage. Stage lighting hung from the ceiling. Dressed in holiday finery, parents, grandparents, and other family members filled rows of chairs that backed away from the front of the stage until they met up with the rows of bleachers. A buzz of happy conversation and laughter filled the auditorium while everyone waited for the lights to flash to signal the beginning of the concert. Students filed in, taking seats at the sides in reserved seating. They appeared to be seated by grade level; Dr Browne had said St Mary's was a private school which taught middle through high school, about a hundred students across six 8

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grades. "I want your unbiased opinion of him, so I haven't said much. I think he'd be great and if we can get him to… well, you'll see for yourself." Dr Browne chuckled, shaking his head a bit. "Okay," Taj glancing at the program he'd been handed at the door by a couple of girls dressed in tuxedos. They'd flirted with Taj and he'd given them a patient smile, passing through the door with Dr Browne. They'd timed their arrival well; they didn't have long to wait for the concert to begin. First on the program were the middle-school students, who were just beginning to learn their instruments. Taj smiled and listened patiently through the occasional wrong note and missed beat. The students reveled in the heartfelt applause of their loved ones at the end. Proud parents could be seen grinning and pointing towards the stage; the sight gave Taj a twinge of envy. The flashes of their cameras and video recorders held high made Taj think of his high school days and his first concerts. His father had never attended his concerts, and actually had yet to hear him sing. His father considered music frivolous. Towards the end of the concert, the lights went down, and Dr Browne nudged Taj's arm. "He'll be next." 9

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The lights slowly rose to reveal an angel bathed in golden light from above, wearing a white choir robe with a soloist's golden braid running from one shoulder to the other, his long blond curls framing his soft features and flowing down his back. He stood, head lowered, eyes closed as if in prayer, then slowly raised his head and began to sing. His voice rang out clear and strong over the audience. At first, Taj barely noticed the choir, dressed in their dark gold robes, standing in the background. The soloist captivated his complete attention. The choir sang out with strong, well-balanced voices for a group with such a wide range of ages and experience. They were working hard, giving the music their all, but Dylan Michaels' talent excelled beyond their abilities. Taj sat forward on the edge of his seat, entranced by the soloist, whose voice and pitch were pure perfection. The tones of "Ave Maria" filled the air. Michaels took control of the song and mesmerized those listening, leaving the choir behind. A little of the magic faded when Taj realized that he paid no attention to the choir struggling to keep up with him. Michaels made no effort to sing with them; he gave no support, nor assisted them in any way. If they fell behind he sang on, forcing them to pick up the pace. Michaels 10

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obviously cared little for those he shared the stage with, although Taj couldn't tell if he did it maliciously or negligently. Still, the music flowed, strikingly beautiful to all who heard, Michaels' disregard for the choir only obvious to one trained in music. Exhaling in a rush, Taj didn't realize he'd held his breath until the end of the rendition. Michaels' gift gave Taj goosebumps as the music filled the auditorium, but his attitude could be trouble if he couldn't learn to work with others. The audience applauded and the lights went up, throwing more light onto the choir. They began the bass notes of "Carol of the Bells" and Michaels' piercing soprano, in tones pure and true as produced by the bells themselves, resounded through the room. When the final notes faded away, the audience again responded with abundant applause and cheers. The lights went down, ending the concert, and the performers dispersed as the regular lights came up. Taj and Dr Browne made their way through the milling crowd, from the gymnasium to the parking lot. Taj said nothing, his thoughts focused on the soloist who'd captured his imagination. The haughty attitude Michaels exuded would be trouble if he couldn't be taught control and how to work with others, regardless of his talent. 11

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"Well, what do you think?" Dr Browne looked to Taj as he turned the key in the ignition. The cold winter night made them pause to wait for the car to warm up and the heater to kick in, enough time for Taj to gather his thoughts. Dr Browne believed in him and would take his opinion seriously. Still, Taj worked to form his opinion on Michaels' merits, not his attraction to the soloist. "He's good. Really good. He has phenomenal talent, and he knows it. He has a voice to make the angels jealous, but he has no competition here, and absolutely no regard for the talent of others. He doesn't seem to realize he should be helping them, working with them. Instead, he's fighting his backup and trying to out-sing them, when they're struggling just to keep up." Taj hesitated. "He's a diva of the worst kind. If he hasn't been taught manners before now, I don't know if we can do much with him." "He'll be a challenge." Dr Browne eased the car out of the parking spot into the crawling traffic streaming from the parking lot. "You said you already recruited him—meaning you want me to get him into shape, right?" Dr Browne laughed a bit and nodded. "Well, yes, but I'm not expecting miracles. Do your best to mentor him, be a friend. Maybe no one has bothered to try and show 12

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him another way. You know, his family didn't attend the concert. They apparently don't care about his musical talent and have very little time for him." "You're kidding, right? With talent like his—I'd have thought his family would be fawning all over him." "Nope. In fact, when I approached them, they were too busy to see me and pushed me off on their butler, who acts as the boy's guardian, more or less. He introduced me to—in his words, 'Mr Dylan'." Dr Brown shook his head. "The boy would've refused to see me if the butler hadn't told him I came from Trinity University. I believe he must have seen our men's group sing, and you were the soloist. He recognized your name and agreed to sing for us—if he could work with you." "Me? Wow, I can't for the life of me figure out where he'd have heard us perform unless he came to a concert. I mean, I do a bit of solo work with the choir and octets, but I can't remember ever meeting him before." Taj stared out the window into the night, a vision of the beautiful, angelic young man filling his imagination. "I'll do my best to teach him. Can't be all that bad." "No, it'll be worse." Dr Browne merged with the flow of traffic on the highway, headed back to the university and out of the suburbs.

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Chapter 1 Monday, August 16, 2010

Taj stood in the shade of an old oak, ready to start pre-season concert rehearsal. A large park filled the center of campus, called the commons. Encircled by cobblestone sidewalks, which continued in a web of connecting sidewalks joining the student union with the dorms and classroom buildings, the commons served as the social center of campus life. To get anywhere on campus, most routes would pass though this center. Grass, trees, benches, and picnic tables were scattered about, all filling up with people coming to hear the rehearsal. Taj smiled as his men's octet a cappella group, all friends gained in the last two years, gathered around him. He was determined to make this third year a year to remember. Their best season yet. Terrance Williams, who sang first tenor, arrived with his girlfriend Nancy and her friend Tammy. Danny O'Hagan, who also sang first tenor, ran towards them, punching Terrance on the shoulder and laughing about some football game Terrance had missed seeing. Justin Taylor, baritone, his girlfriend Lisa, and Taj's best friend from high school, Ben Johnson, arrived 14

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together. He soon spotted James Lee, second tenor, hurrying to catch up to Ben, Justin, and Lisa. Justin's girlfriend Lisa seemed to be trying to comfort Ben, the two deep in conversation. James and Justin left the two behind to join the rest of the octet warming up as Taj approached his friends. The last to arrive, Andre Biotti and Bo Watson, were basses. Andre kissed his wife and left her and their newborn baby in the shade, while Bo and Tom Lancer, baritone, wandered in with Taj's roommate Paul Fen in tow. He moved off to join Ben and Lisa under the nearby trees. Taj sang second tenor and led the octet into the center of the cement half circle, while the audience of friends and family gathered about the outer edges of the circle. He smiled at his friends and took charge of the group. Although these outdoor prep concerts were fun for all of them, they knew if they intended to win they had to practice. The August heat would become oppressive later in the day, so morning practices like this one were necessary. Taj played a note on the pitch pipe, giving each member their starting notes. The group sang in four-part harmony, standing in a semi-circle, so they could see each other and the audience. They began with The Script's "Man Who Can't Be Moved". They had practiced several days on the choreographed dance moves, working to get them to 15

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appear effortless and a part of the performance, conveying through the notes and actions, the emotions of the melody. Their goal to draw those who listened into the music and make them feel a part of it. Taj gauged the audience's reactions and made musical selections from their repertoire to entertain while giving his group the practice they needed. He made mental note of parts in his arrangement that needed to be reviewed. Dr Browne appeared in his peripheral vision, leading a young man with long blond hair across the lawn towards them. Dylan Michaels, the diva, approaching stage left, Taj thought, a grin spreading across his face. The opening strains of "I'm Yours", by Jason Mraz, a crowd favorite, featuring him as a soloist had many in the audience singing along.

****

"Is there a point to your ramblings?" Dylan snapped at Dr Browne. "I get it. You have a prestigious university and many graduating students have gone on to illustrious careers. I wouldn't be here if Trinity was second rate." His patience was wearing thin. Dr. Browne had invited him to come to the university two weeks prior to regular student orientation so he could get to know the music department 16

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and become familiar with the institution in general. Unfortunately, he'd found little of what Dr Browne said to be of any interest. But as they approached the park in the center of campus on their way to the Music Department, Dylan's attention became captivated by the rehearsal. "I see you've noticed our men's octet." Dr Browne said, pausing to listen to the singers. Dylan watched the men dance and sing, their harmonies complementing each other. His eyes roved over the group, judging each singer against his own talent. His eyes couldn't stay away from the lead, and although many years had passed, he recognized Taj Davis. "I believe you are familiar with their lead, Taj Davis," Dr Browne continued. "Ah, yes. We've met before." Dylan gave himself a shake and scowled at the director. "They're practicing for an outdoor competition. He'll come around to the music department when they finish. Would you like to stay and listen for a bit? Otherwise we can move on, and I can show you around the music department." "How long has this group been together?" Dylan crossed his arms, carefully studying his competition. "This will be their third year singing together, the second with Taj leading them." Dr Browne's pride in his 17

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students was plain in his voice. "I see." Dylan worked to control his curiosity and not pepper Dr Browne with questions about Taj. The audience's reaction to the group took Dylan by surprise. They were clapping along with the song, obviously enjoying the performance. "They're good, wouldn't you say?" Dr Browne asked. "Well, yes. I don't think I've seen a non-professional group draw this kind of attention before." Taj opened the next song, singing out with strength and confidence, leading enthusiastically. The audience caught his energy, applauding each soloist as they took turns on the stanzas, and all joined in the chorus of Scott Leonard's "I Am Your Man". "Amazing," Dylan mumbled to himself as he and Dr Browne began to move off, continuing on towards the Music Department.

****

Taj tried to keep his eyes moving across the crowd while at the same time watching Dylan Michaels, who seemed to be assessing their performance. He couldn't help wondering what Dylan thought of their little group, if 18

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they'd made any impression at all on the diva. Taj noticed out of the corner of his eye that when Dr Browne suggested they move on, Dylan seemed so completely engrossed in their performance, he didn't notice Dr Browne talking to him or subtly guiding him away from the commons. Maybe I'll be able to reach him after all, Taj thought, drawing his focus away from the beautiful blond leaving with the director and back to the audience and his group. They rehearsed a couple more songs in their repertoire and, after setting a time to meet again later in the week, weather permitting, the group disbursed. They didn't have much rehearsal time left before the competition season began, and there'd be even less available after the start of the semester. Taj left the commons with a wave to his friends, heading for the main choir room and Dr Browne's office. He had plenty to do, even if the director wasn't ready for him yet; Dr Browne had asked to meet after practice, to show Dylan around campus. A bit ahead of schedule, he strolled into the room and passed the director's glass office window. Taj glanced in the window, catching Dr Browne's eye as he walked by. Michaels appeared to be less than enthusiastic about what the director was telling him. Dr Browne and Dylan were in the choir director's office, talking, so Taj went down the steps to the front of 19

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the choir rehearsal hall, where Dr Browne had left a heap of sheet music on the podium. Taj looked up at the empty seats arranged in a half moon shape above him. On each step, he pictured the members of the choir ranged around while he directed them before an audience. He chuckled to himself, his imagination providing him with a blond diva soloist, awaiting his cue to sing, eyes riveted to Taj, seeing only him. Taj shook his head, dismissing the fantasy, and found the score he'd been messing with before the outdoor practice session. Humming, he laid the page flat on a chair to note changes he thought would improve the guys' performance in their next practice. He judiciously reworked the bass score, pencil in hand, making changes when Dr Browne and Dylan came out of the office. "Taj—ah, on the floor again, I see. I almost missed you down there. You get the notes in your head and you drop wherever you are and start scribbling, don't you?" "Well, if I don't stop and get the score down right away, it's harder to remember later what I wanted to change. Then it never comes out the same." Taj smiled and rose, picking up the sheet music and trotting up to where Dr Browne and Dylan stood waiting for him. "What—you're writing an original work?" Dylan's eyes narrowed in what amounted to a sneer. 20

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Does he think I'm his competition? Man, does he have a lot to learn. Taj thought. He smiled openly, trying to diffuse Dylan's hostility and suspicion. "No, I'm no composer. I'm arranging the score for the octet I practiced with earlier. There are still a few revisions to the harmonies I'd like to make to before the competition." Dr Browne patted Taj on the shoulder. "I know you'll do your best with the octet and the competition will go off without a hitch. If you perform for the judges exactly like you did in the commons today, you'll run away with the show." His usual easy-going attitude seemed to have become strained in dealing with young Michaels. He still smiled, but stiffly, as though he'd tasted something unpleasant. "Let me introduce you. Dylan, this is my student assistant, Taj Davis. Taj, this is our newest soprano, Dylan Michaels. I've given him the basic tour; now I'm leaving him to you." Dr Browne turned and left the choir room. Taj couldn't help but notice that he disappeared down the hall at a pace so quick it would make a power walker envious. "Hi Dylan, nice to meet you. Welcome to the choir." Taj held out his hand. "I'm not joining any choir." Dylan stared at Taj's hand disdainfully. "I sing for myself and only myself. I'm a 21

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soloist." Taj forced another smile. "Sorry, but I am sure Dr Browne has already told you everyone in the music department must belong to the choir in order to be a soloist. The best and most talented are awarded the solos, and you have to earn the right. You have to try out, in competition with everyone else." Taj dropped his hand and turned his back on Dylan, putting the sheet music into a locker. "I'm a soloist. I don't do choirs. I'm sure no one here has my ability." Dylan rolled his eyes and glared around the choir room, sighing exaggeratedly. "Whatever, I guess. So what do you have to show me?" "Well, maybe working as part of a team will be a new experience for you." Taj grabbed his backpack from the locker, turning back to Dylan. If he intended to be nasty, he'd learn two could play that game. "I don't want to take any more of your time. I'll be happy to supply you with a map of the campus. I'm sure you can find your own way around." Taj waved a hand in the air dismissively, intending to ignore the young man. "I have work of my own to do so—" "No, I'm sorry. Really—" Taj turned to look at a shocked Dylan, who looked afraid he would end up on his own. Used to being indulged, it was obvious he wasn't prepared to be on his own. 22

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"Okay, let's try this again. Has Dr Browne taken you on a tour of the music department?" Taj smiled at Dylan again. Dylan shuffled his feet and wrung his hands in agitation. He's so cute, Taj thought. "No, I met him at the dorm and we came directly here. We only stopped to listen to the group performing in the commons. Your group." Dylan stared at the ground in front of Taj. "Come on, I'll show you around. I'm assuming you're a music major? Or double majoring?" Taj tried to get Dylan to talk about himself, as he led the way out of the choir room and down the hallway. "Double majoring… um… classical literature and performance art." Staring at the ground, Dylan trailed after Taj, fidgeting nervously. Taj could tell he was completely out of his element, anxious about being out of control of the situation. "I think those majors complement each other nicely. You'll be loved in the theater department. Believe me, they work together better than my own interests, music and biology." Taj pointed to the rooms on either side of the hallway. "These are all soundproof practice rooms. There's a piano in each room. You can pull the curtains if you want privacy to work on your own, but you should know any instructor can enter a practice room unannounced, at any 23

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time." "So?" "So the instructors bust someone making out at least once a year. The penalty for getting caught is restriction to main choir activities and no competitions or solos for the rest of the year. In other words, if you feel the need… get a room, don't use these." Taj finished the tour of the music department then led his charge around the rest of campus, introducing him to instructors and students in each. Taj watched Dylan slowly relax, his hostility fading and shyness becoming predominant. He paid close attention and answered any questions Taj asked of him readily enough, but volunteered little. "You seem to know everyone, even people outside your major." Dylan commented, following Taj out the double doors of the library. "I guess so. Doesn't really take long to get to know people if you try. My job has me working with people from all the departments with all different skill levels, and I help with the 'Intro to Music' classes for freshmen. I meet people from other colleges who're taking music to meet their mandatory general arts requirement. You'll get to know pretty much everyone too, especially living in the dorms. There's no segregation by major there, so your roommate 24

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could be in just about any field of study." He grinned down at the young man who seemed so very different from the diva who'd stood in the music room just a short while ago. "Let's go back to the dorms. They're just across the commons." Dylan frowned. "Yeah, right. I keep pretty much to myself." Taj ignored Dylan's pessimism and continued as if he hadn't heard him. "So, Dr Browne told me you were assigned to B dorm on the eighth floor, right?" Taj asked, even though he already knew the answer. Dylan nodded, looking up at Taj uncertainly. "Have you moved in?" "Yeah, this morning." "Did your parents help?" They walked slowly between the cafeteria and the dorm, tall cherry trees lined the sidewalk, swaying gracefully in the late-summer breeze. "As if. They'd never concern themselves with something like that. I take care of myself. I don't need their help. My father's out of the country and my mother… she's not well." Dylan stopped walking; his face became a hard unreadable mask. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost as if he expected Taj to be angry with him. Taj could practically see the hard mask of the diva 25

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slip into place, hiding the quiet young man he was beginning to like. Dylan had been fine one minute, but when speaking of his parents, he became cold and reserved. After spending the last couple of hours with him, Taj recognized it as a kind of self-preservation. Whenever Dylan felt uncomfortable, pressured, or uneasy, he would become angry, standoffish, and cold. The diva's act of indifference protected Dylan, but also isolated him. Taj ignored the change and kept walking, slowing down a bit so Dylan could easily catch up. Someday he'd have to find out the story behind Dylan's family; maybe he'd discover who'd hurt the young man so badly he hid himself away. "We're in the same dorm. I'm on the eighth floor too, 812. If you have any questions or need anything, feel free to come find me." The two of them entered the front door of the dorm, and walked across the lobby to the elevators. "Thanks." Dylan mumbled, clearly still unsure about this turn of events and continuing to watch Taj's reactions carefully. The doors to the elevator opened and they got on, Taj pressing the button for the eighth floor. "We're practicing in the commons after dinner tonight. A group of us usually head to the cafeteria together. Want to come? I'm always looking for a trained ear to help me evaluate if everyone is on pitch, and you can 26

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meet the guys." Taj encouraged, stepping off the elevator when it stopped on their floor. "Same group you were with this morning?" "Three of the guys from the octet will be there. The group this evening is a men's quartet. Some of the guys bring their girlfriends along to listen so we have an audience. Once we start, we generally draw a crowd. We're a pretty relaxed group, though. We all know what needs working on. Mostly we jam for fun, but even though we joke around, the point is to practice and prepare for the contests." "Sure, why not? I don't know much about group singing, but I do have a good ear for pitch." Dylan genuinely smiled for the first time and Taj almost fell to his knees in stunned surprise. He had a beautiful smile that immediately had Taj wanting to see it every chance he could get. He felt very protective of this young man for some reason, and his smile went straight to Taj's heart. "Meet you here in an hour and we can go to the cafeteria together. Some of the guys live here in the dorm, so I'm sure they'll tag along." Taj reached over and ruffled Dylan's hair, grinning and giving him a gentle shove down the hall in the direction of his room. Dylan brushed Taj's hand away with a roll of his eyes and a good-natured laugh. "'Kay, See you later." Dylan waved and he headed 27

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down the hall towards his room. Taj watched Dylan walk off and turned in the opposite direction, towards his own room.

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Chapter 2 Dylan walked into his room and turned on the radio. He'd been unsure about coming to school so far ahead of time, but the sooner he could get away from his mother's house, the better. When Dr Browne had offered to let him come early, to see the campus and settle in, he'd jumped at the idea. He'd hoped to get some extra time with Taj, but with all the work Taj did around campus for Dr Browne, he might not get to do more than listen to Taj sing. Still, he enjoyed listening to Taj sing, he'd discovered that Taj had a wonderful voice. Dylan took a deep breath, the stress leaving his body with the sigh. Being on campus was a relief from his home life, and after meeting so many new people, it was nice to be able to be alone for a while. He'd never be able to remember everyone Taj had introduced him to, the names and faces had become blurred into a huge muddled mess after the first few. Taj seemed to be very popular; everywhere they'd gone, students and faculty both had smiled, waved, and called him by name. Taj knew all their names and greeted each warmly, like they were old friends. It had continued, department after department, with students and teachers alike. Long after Dylan had given up 29

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trying to remember their names, Taj still waved and gave everyone they met a warm friendly smile. Dylan recognized in Taj his polar opposite. Where he tended to be reserved and preferred to be alone, Taj knew everyone and had an outgoing nature. Dylan found himself watching not Taj's smile, but his eyes when people approached them. Taj's green eyes were fountains of expression. He found he could see the real story in the spark of Taj's eyes, how he really felt about the person he was speaking to. He found himself watching those eyes for any hint of recognition, but there had been none. Dylan smiled, throwing himself onto his bunk. Apparently, he had nothing to worry about. Taj didn't remember him. Maybe this time they could be friends, at least for a while. Dylan picked up his favorite copy of Moby Dick, which sat on the headboard of the bed, opening the book and glancing through the pages he'd long ago memorized. The worn and broken binding of the paperback reflected his love of the story. A gift from Mr Stein, his English teacher in high school, the book was a treasured favorite. The teacher was one of the very few people Dylan thought fondly of from his years in high school. Mr Stein had inscribed on the title page, To Dylan, Don't go turning guppies into whales. Nathanial Stein. 30

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Dylan found Ahab's struggle with the white whale enthralling. He could see his own struggles, his floundering against an inevitable future he didn't want, reflected in parts of the story, his life passing by with his parents firmly in control and making decisions while he struggled in vain against them. Dylan sighed and put the book back on the headboard, closing his eyes. He didn't want to think about her, he'd finally gotten away from her. He had managed to choose this University for himself. Conditional of course, like everything else in his life; he could attend if school didn't interfere with his other responsibilities to his family. His father didn't care what he did, but he had to see to his duties to his family first. Dylan knew other families weren't like his, but fulfilling his duty to his family seemed to please his father when nothing else did. Dylan had long ago given up any ideas of a relationship with his father. When his mother had discovered his talent in music and his lack of interest in anything business-oriented, his father had begun to ignore his existence. Dylan became just a distraction to keep his mother out of his father's way. Dylan found them both tiresome, but attending the University had become a way to stand on his own and to assert some independence. He just hoped it would be enough. 31

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He closed his eyes and drifted off into restless unconsciousness.

****

Taj headed slowly down the hallway towards his room. Dylan had sparked his interest and fascinated him all day. He had watched Taj's every move, listening attentively to everything he'd said. Taj found the intense observation unsettling at first; he hadn't been scrutinized so closely in a long time. Every time he'd glanced at the kid, Dylan had been staring at him, watching, almost waiting for something. The real Dylan, the shy, quiet, careful young man, was a surprise, and so unlike what Taj had expected. He'd spoken very little, seeming to prefer to listen and watch everything going on around him intently. Most performers Taj had known were outgoing and gregarious striving for more attention and flourishing in the spotlight. Dylan's diva pose screamed extrovert, but when pushed, the persona folded and the real Dylan appeared, so timid Taj wouldn't have believed him to be the same person. He wondered which would be coming to dinner, the diva or the speechless freshman. College often changed people, they would grow and 32

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develop. Maybe away from those who expected him to behave like a spoiled brat, the façade would fade and Dylan's real personality could mature and flourish. Taj found Dylan fascinating. His silent attentiveness made Taj wonder what went on beneath the surface, in the depths of those deep brown eyes, eyes the color of dark chocolate. Taj felt a challenge in Dylan he found hard to define. The diva screamed 'catch me if you can', and something in Taj intensely hoped to see him cry, yet at the same time Taj wanted to protect the shy, attentive young man. He had no idea how to reconcile such conflicting feelings towards one person, but maybe if he got to know Dylan, he'd learn. The door to his room hung open to the hall; he could hear boisterous laughter and recognized the voices of his friends. They were scattered about the room, already engaged in their favorite past-time, 'Raspberries'. "Go… Go… Go!" they chanted. Taj stood in the door and watched. Justin leaned over to Paul, lifted his shirt, and blew a raspberry against his bare stomach. A fresh bout of laughter broke loose and Taj joined them. Justin stood and gasped for air, Paul yanked his shirt back down over his bare stomach, squirming and shivering uncontrollably, shoving Justin away. 33

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"God damn! That always gives me goose bumps." Paul quivered all over. "Ehhh—" he shivered and rubbed his hands up and down, over his arms. "I want to play!" Taj slapped Paul on the back in greeting. "Okay, since you're late, you spin." Paul nodded his head towards the desk. Taj dumped his bag on his bed and leaned over. There sat a game spinner, divided into nine sections decorated in three colors, red, brown, and purple. Grinning, Taj flicked the pointer, spinning it rapidly around to slow and finally stop on red. A couple of the guys ooh'd, while Tom wolfwhistled. Taj abruptly grabbed Paul's head and planted a kiss firmly on his lips, while the rest of the guys hooted and hollered. "Tom, you're next since you're making the most fuss." Taj jeered and passed the spinner to Tom. Jests spread through the room, when Taj sat down on his bed. Tom spun the pointer, which landed on brown. "Okay, where's the mystery chocolate bowl?" Taj watched the large black bowl filled with brightly wrapped chocolates get passed around to him. He had helped prepare them and knew some of them were gourmet, others the cheapest wax chocolates pennies could buy. They were all 34

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spiked with various hard liquors, but mostly Everclear. Too many chocolate spins and a lightweight player could become buzzed, but more often it sent them running for the bathroom. Still, they all played, daring each other to continue, pushing each other's limits, and on rare occasions, leaving in pairs. A romance or two had sprouted from this game over the last couple of years. Taj held the bowl above Tom's head while he reached into the bowl and drew a chocolate wrapped in red and silver foil. He opened and popped it into his mouth while those around him watched his reaction. "Bourbon… yum," Tom chuckled, swallowed the candy and pointed to a redhead sitting in the corner. "You're up, James!" James crawled out of the corner shaking his head, "Awe man, I was trying to be inconspicuous." "Spin… Spin… Spin!" they chanted. James stood, covered his eyes, and flicked the pointer, landing on purple. Cheering and hollering continued, while James looked down at the pointer and shook his head, moving over to Tom. "Sorry man." James chortled and blew a nauseous raspberry, loud and long onto Tom's cheek, the rest razzed them obnoxiously. "Ben, your turn." James pointed to a young man 35

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who seemed to have landed on brown one too many times already, placing the spinner on the desk. Ben stood, staggering a bit on his approach. "How many spins has he had?" Taj frowned, concerned as Ben wobbled drunkenly on his feet, clearly already trashed. "He was drunk before we started. Some chick dumped him today when he told her he loved her. Went down in flames, so he's drowning his sorrows." Paul put a steadying hand on Ben, who leaned over the desk and almost fell forward when he reached for the pointer. He spun it wildly, almost knocking everything on the desk to the floor in the process. "Easy there, big guy," Paul teased as the pointer settled on Red. Everyone began cheering and hooting, egging Ben on. Ben lurched upright, a grin on his face. He looked around at the guys, but instead of going towards James, who he was supposed to kiss, he lurched towards Taj. Ben stumbled forward, falling over his own feet. Taj caught him by the shoulders before he fell on his face, trying to steady him under Ben's much more substantial weight. He remained upright only because Taj held him in his arms, knowing if he let go, Ben would be on the floor in a full body face plant. 36

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"Thanks, Taj," Ben mumbled drunkenly, patting Taj on the shoulder then planting a huge open-mouthed kiss on him. The mirth had barely started when the door was pushed open. Taj hadn't closed it all the way, and Dylan stepped into the doorway just in time to see Taj get Frenchkissed by Ben. Taj glanced over to the doorway, seeing the stunned look on Dylan's face. The young man turned red, his jaw dropped to the floor, and he ran from the room. "Aw, hell! Dylan!" Taj shoved the drunken Ben into Paul, cursing and running after Dylan, who had taken off, back down the hallway towards his room.

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Chapter 3 As Dylan stood at his door, struggling to get his key in the lock, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Taj running down the hall towards him. "Dylan, wait—please." Dylan got the door open and ducked through before Taj could stop him. Taj put a hand on the door, but put no force on it. "Please—" "What—What were you doing?" Dylan stared at the floor and took a step back from the door hesitantly. "I—Just let me explain. You didn't see what you think you saw. It's just a game." Taj rushed to explain, afraid Dylan would slam the door at any moment. "A game. What kind of game?" Dylan yelled, looking up and meeting Taj's eyes for the first time. Dylan's face was flushed with embarrassment and he crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "Look, can I come in?" Taj asked, lowering his voice. "I want to explain." "Fine, come in. Not like I could stop you if I wanted to." Dylan turned his back on Taj, tossing his hair dismissively over his shoulder. He huffed and stalked over 38

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to his bed. All diva, Taj saw immediately that Dylan had withdrawn into himself; nothing soft or shy remained in his actions. "So we're back to this." Taj sighed. "I'm really sorry you saw that. I would've preferred to explain it first. It really is just a stupid game." Taj entered the room and closed the door gently behind him before he walked over to the desk and sat down. "What do you mean 'back to this'? And in what kind of game do you kiss other guys?" Dylan kept his back to Taj, refusing to turn around. "We call it 'Raspberries'. It's a drinking game some of us started when we were freshmen. We were all trashed, and a game of 'Spin the Bottle' got out of hand and morphed into this. One of the guys put together the game spinner and a new game is born." "You expect me to believe—" Taj ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. "Basically, the rules are: you spin the pointer, you land on a color, you do what the color tells you to. There are three options. You blow a raspberry on the person who spun before you, kiss the person who spun before you, or eat a piece of mystery chocolate. Last person who spun chooses the next to spin. Simple enough even drunks don't get confused, and believe me, it's funny as hell, especially 39

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when you're trashed. Look, I know you've no idea how stressful university life can be, but it's intense and exhausting, this… is a great stress reliever. Any number of people can play and no, it isn't always just guys." Taj continued to talk softly, trying to make his voice soothing and gentle. "A game. So you… kiss guys to relieve stress?" Dylan spun around and stared at Taj, his eyes huge, full of disbelief and anger. "Sometimes, I guess." "Are you… one of those…?" "Am I 'one of those'? I'm assuming you mean queer, gay, fag, homosexual, light in the loafers, flaming…" Taj smiled grimly and brushed his long bangs back off his face with a sigh. "Have I missed any?" "How about 'queen'?" Dylan rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Right, forgot one. We aren't all gay. Ben, the guy you saw kiss me, is bi. My roommate Paul is decidedly gay. I don't know about James or Tom. Justin has a girlfriend, her name is Lisa. We don't sit around discussing our sexual persuasions, you know. But, yes, I'm gay. Are you going to have a problem with that?" Taj dropped his hand and looked back up at Dylan, afraid of what he'd hear next. Dylan stepped back and sat down on his bed, a bit 40

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stunned. The diva persona slipped away. "I've never known anyone who actually just admitted to being gay." he said. "I didn't expect—" Taking a deep breath, Dylan shook his head a bit, calming down. Taj smiled. "Well, you don't have to look at me like I've grown a second head or something. I'm not an animal. I'm not going to jump you. I just know I'm not attracted to girls and I'm drawn to guys." "I'm not gay. I don't like guys. So don't get any funny ideas." Dylan frowned. Taj saw him beginning to relax; the mask hadn't returned. "What did you mean by 'back to this'?" Dylan pressed, not letting go of anything Taj had said. "When you get angry or unsure of yourself, you become quite the diva. I had to work most of the afternoon to get you to relax enough around me to drop the act. When I caught up with you just now—Look, I'm sorry." Taj tried to keep from breaking into a grin. Dylan looked so angry, he was practically vibrating in place and if he thought Taj was teasing him, he might not forgive him. "You bastard! Diva? Me? Hardly! I've had to fight for every scrap owed me. They're always just waiting for me to screw up even slightly, so they can turn me into a laughingstock. So yes, I put up a wall to keep myself safe, from getting hurt, because they all eventually betray me or 41

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want something from me." "Dylan—" "Sorry if you don't like it. I can't help it that I didn't trust you immediately, the minute you flashed your smile at me. I guess I now have a reason not to trust you, don't I?" Dylan pushed himself back on the bed, against the wall, radiating hurt and anger. "Dylan, I'm sorry, really. Look, I'm not saying you have to trust me. I'd like us to be friends, nothing more. The performance arts students can be really hard on each other and competition makes it even harder to find friends. Dylan, you're one of the stars, you already know that, but you've a lot to learn. The better you are, the more responsibility you have to help others. I want to help you." Taj sighed and glanced over at Dylan. He looked like such a young child curled in on himself against the wall. Taj forced himself to stay in his chair, to keep from going over and trying to comfort him. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I really just want to be your friend." Dylan looked up. "Don't pity me. I don't need that from you." "I don't pity you. You have a lot of talent. I envy you. You have the potential to be unstoppable, practically write your own ticket." Taj sighed and shook his head. "Really, I just want to be your friend and help you. That's 42

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all, nothing else." "Okay, friends. Fine." Dylan watched Taj intently. "But don't expect me to play with you or anyone else." Dylan scrunched up his face and shook his head. Taj snickered. "Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it. You'll have to come and watch sometime. Look, nobody is groping anyone or coming on to anyone. There is zero chance of a gay orgy getting started. We're all just venting stress. To be honest, I think we're all hoping for brown." "'Hoping for brown'?" Dylan asked. "Yeah, brown. You pick a chocolate out of a bowl. They're spiked. Believe me, Ben's the last person I'd date. He's not my type. I'm not into burly computer nerds who don't know how to dress themselves. Don't get me wrong, Ben is a fun guy, most of the time. He's been my friend for years, but there's no chemistry between us." Dylan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I'll warn you, my being gay is a pretty well-known fact on campus, and everyone knows Paul is gay. He gets a kick out of freaking the straights, especially if he thinks you might be homophobic. Oh, and watch yourself, you are his type and I wouldn't be surprised if he hits on you, gay or not." A blush washed over Dylan's face. He had uncurled from the wall, and although he looked at Taj a bit suspiciously, he didn't kick him out. "There are tons of 43

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rumors going around. Most say Paul and I are an item. Don't believe them, they're crap. Paul is definitely not my type and I'm not his." Dylan smiled bitterly. "Rumor and snide comments don't bother me. I've lived with them all my life, and I've been called gay more than once. I think people assume if you are into performance arts and music you have to be gay. That or they use the term to try and hurt you." Dylan sighed and rested his head back against the wall. "Oh well, my first friend in college is gay and I'm already being called a Diva Soprano. Why should I care what people think?" Dylan shook his head and a slightly selfdeprecating chuckle escaped. Taj got up out of the chair. "Come on, Diva, we need to wrap up this heart to heart. The others will be waiting, time to head down to the cafeteria for dinner and practice." Dylan stood, following Taj towards the door, when Taj opened the door and turned around. "It'll be okay, you'll see." he struggled to keep from reaching back and ruffling Dylan's hair. He wanted to touch Dylan to reassure himself, hoping Dylan wouldn't flinch away from him, but he was too afraid to chance it. "Are any of those guys in your group tonight?" Dylan asked. "Justin is. Terrance and Andre weren't in the room. 44

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They make up the rest of the quartet. Paul and Ben aren't in the group, but they usually join us for dinner and stick around for the practice. Most of the rest of the guys from the octet usually come, just to show support. They'll hang out in the commons for the practice and listen with the rest of our friends." "Okay." "They might've put Ben to bed, the guy got dumped today. He was pretty trashed." Taj watched Dylan's face blush beautifully. "Don't do that in front of Paul. I swear you're gonna end up making me defend your honor. He'll eat you alive, given half a chance." Dylan followed Taj out the door and down the hallway to the central living room and the elevator. Four of the five guys who'd been in Taj's room were waiting for them. "Honey Bear, we're so sorry we shocked you." Paul came over and placed a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "I know we can be a nasty group and our games can be… different, but we really were just playing. I hope you'll forgive us." "Cut it out, Paul. Damn, do you have to lay it on so thick?" Taj stepped between Dylan and Paul, running interference.

"Dylan,

this obnoxious queen is my

roommate, Paul Fen. Paul, this is my friend and our new Soprano Diva, Dylan." Taj winked mischievously at Dylan. 45

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"Oooh… a soprano, how wonderful. I can't wait to hear you sing, Honey Bear." Paul cooed at Dylan, and patted Taj on the shoulder. "We put Ben to bed. After you left in such a rush, he thought he'd hurt your feelings and burst into tears 'til he passed out." "Geez, I can't catch a break today. I'll check on him later, after practice." Taj shook his head. "Guys, this is Dylan Michaels, Dylan, these are the guys, Justin Taylor, James Lee, Tom Lancer, and the other guy was Ben Johnson." "Hi." Dylan's chin went up along with the wall, evident in his cold eyes, as he stood beside Taj. "Nice to meet you." "Oh, Honey Bear, don't try so hard, you're gonna hurt yourself." Paul remarked and got on the elevator, holding the door open, while the rest of the guys burst into laughter. Dylan's persona broke and his embarrassment flared across his face, flushing from his neck to hairline. "Give him a break, Paul. Most of us don't have your flamboyant nature to hide behind." Taj put a hand on Paul's shoulder giving him a not too gentle shove, grinning. "Oh, that's harsh, Taj. The freshie has to learn to deal if he's gonna hang with this screwed-up crew." The elevator doors opened to the busy lobby, Paul grabbed Taj by the back of the neck and moved in to kiss him, but got 46

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the palm of Taj's hand instead between their mouths, his head pushed back. "Too slow, Paul. You're losing your touch." Taj put an arm around Dylan's shoulders, guiding him gently out the elevator to the front of the pack then dropping his arm the minute they were in the open, leaving Justin, Tom, and James with a sulking Paul. "There they are!" Terrance Williams beckoned. "Come on Taj. If we don't eat soon, we'll lose the best rehearsal spot." Several people stood around him, also waving at Taj's group. "All right already, we're here. Let's go." Taj grabbed hold of Terrance's shoulder and shoved him out the door in front of him. A large number of people followed them out the door, all tagging along behind, out of the dorm and towards the cafeteria. "Does Dr Browne have you running errands again tomorrow?" Terrance asked. "Yeah, same ol' same ol'. I don't mind though, he has a really cool synthesizer coming in next week. Said I could try it." Taj made sure to keep Dylan close to him, not wanting him to feel left out or overwhelmed by all the new people. He smiled to himself, the aloof attitude Dylan exuded when people were near had a firm hold, but despite Taj telling him he was gay, Dylan had let him in when they 47

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were alone. Taj decided to ignore his detached behavior, hoping maybe Dylan would relax when he got to know everyone. Taj entered the cafeteria and explained the various lines to a disinterested looking Dylan. He let Dylan take the lead as he put together a light dinner of grilled chicken salad with vinaigrette dressing. "Good choice," Taj approved. "It's always easier to sing without a heavy meal weighing you down." The meal went easily enough, and Taj was surprised to find how protective he was becoming of Dylan, who mostly listened to the conversation flowing around him. While Taj watched with rapt attention, Dylan slowly relaxed and enjoyed the fun. The group accepted him without question, since Taj obviously wanted him around and watched out for him. Where Paul was concerned, Taj kept on guard, making sure to be between Paul and Dylan whenever possible. They were just finishing their meal, and some of the group had already begun to split off towards the commons, when Paul dropped into a recently vacated seat at Dylan's side. "So what do you think of our merry band, Honey Bear?" Paul practically dripped with sweetness. "Seems like a nice group of people." Dylan 48

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commented diplomatically. "Oh, so politically correct and noncommittal. Perfectly understandable, I guess. Are you joining us in the commons? Taj's little quartet is going to be practicing for the fall competition. They're really quite good. Our Taj is so very talented." Paul teased, putting a hand over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes, pouring every bit of drama and over the top expression into his movements. "Of course, Taj invited me to observe. I'm excited to hear him sing. He is part of the reason I came to this university." "When did we meet before? Dr Browne told me you mentioned my name when you were recruited. He said you knew me." Taj asked curiously. "You mean you don't remember? I'm shocked." Dylan teased, turning and winking at Paul and rolling his eyes, unconsciously flirting. "I'm sure our prior meeting made a much larger impression on me than on you. Still…" Dylan rose and picked up his tray of dirty dishes and headed for the trashcans, moving ahead of Paul and Taj. "He's mine, Taj. If he keeps that up and you don't grab him, he's mine. I'll take him and eat him alive. He'll be so sweet." Paul whispered under his breath, egging Taj on, playing on the possessiveness Taj was exhibiting. "Back off, Paul! I mean it!" Taj grumbled irritably, 49

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got up, and rushing to catch up with Dylan. "Hey! Dylan… When? When did we meet before? At least give me a hint." Taj trotted on Dylan's heels, with Paul close behind. Dylan laughed and moved towards the exit with Taj on one side and Paul on the other, heading for the commons. The setting sun gave a peaceful feeling to the park, as people gathered in the twilight taking up places in the grass, on the picnic tables, benches and blankets to watch the practice. The old-fashioned black lampposts had flickered on when the sun dipped below the horizon. Taj, Justin, Andre, and Terrance were now standing in an alcove ringed with trees, which formed a small natural amphitheater. Taj had reluctantly left Dylan sitting with Paul at the base of a large maple tree. "Behave yourself, Paul," Taj ordered. "I mean it." "Oh, quit being such a spoilsport, entertain us." Paul huffed and waved Taj off.

****

Dylan wasn't entirely comfortable with Paul. His larger than life attitude left Dylan feeling uneasy; he preferred the shadows whenever possible and Paul was always attracting attention. He didn't know how seriously to take Paul. While Taj made him feel relaxed and safe, 50

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Paul made him feel disoriented and off-balance. With Taj he felt like he could be himself; Taj wanted to know the real him. Dylan wanted no part of Paul. The two were like night and day. Dylan felt much more comfortable around Taj even if he was gay. He'd never been able to accept anyone, never allowed anyone to be near enough to risk trust or the beginnings of a real friendship. With Taj, he found himself wanting a connection, wanting to trust. Paul didn't seem the sort who would be lacking for boyfriends. There were always those interested in having a good time, and Paul would be at the center of the party. Physically, the two were similar. Paul stood slightly shorter than Taj but wasn't nearly as well built. Slimmer, longer limbed, built like a runner, Paul could walk the fashion runway. Taj had the build of an Olympic swimmer, broad across the chest and shoulders, well-muscled, and strong. Paul wore his glossy black hair short and spiky. Taj's shaggy copper brown hair hung in his eyes and down around his ears, glistening in the setting sunlight. Long silver earrings hung from multiple piercings on Paul's ears. He wore black jeans and an unbuttoned lavender shirt, tucked in at the waist. Paul's every gesture, though graceful, screamed exaggeration and stage production. In a word, Paul made Dylan nervous.

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****

Taj used the pitch pipe to give them their notes. He struggled to concentrate on his music, distracted by the sight of Paul with Dylan at his side: Tall, thin, dark Paul sitting alongside the golden fragile beauty of Dylan, leaning back against the same tree. The instant jealousy he felt caught him completely off guard. They were breathtaking together, and as Taj looked around, he realized he wasn't the only one to notice. He felt himself blush, realizing he wanted to be the one whispering in Dylan's ear. Wait… whispering! What's he whispering about? Damn him! We haven't even started yet! He wanted Dylan for himself and far from Paul, before Paul could charm Dylan away. Taj struggled to get control of his emotions, making himself and the group run through some vocal warm-up exercises. Then, gathering his resolve, Taj started them on their first song. The four-part harmony flowed smoothly as they performed Amy Winehouse's "Rehab" in a cappella harmony. They gave the rebellious rock song a dynamic doo-wop pop sound, their choreographed steps resembling a fifties classic rock group. The focused group concentrated on their tight harmonies, enjoying their own music. Dylan smiled

openly,

clearly

appreciating 52

the

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harmonies—and completely ignoring Paul. Taj smiled. He moved the group directly into the next song, "Light at the End of the Tunnel" composed by their own Andre Biotti, nodding to Terrance who led off in a bright, clear tenor voice. "At the end of the day—When fears and doubts of another day spent caught up in the grind—Pull me in— Hold me back—I come home to you darlin'—and it's then I find…" Taj caught up the harmony, his eyes riveted to Dylan, singing to him. His voice, his song could have been for Dylan alone. He stared at Dylan, catching and holding his gaze. "You're the one—the only one—can make me feel whole again. 'Cause your my light—my bright shining light at the end of the tunnel." Taj sang for just for him, trying to let Dylan know the rightness of his feelings through the words he sang. "You're all I see—You're my light at the end of the tunnel. And you're mine." Taj found himself meaning every word, and had to struggle not to get completely distracted when Paul tried to drape an arm around Dylan and received a frosty glare which withered the attempt.

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****

Dylan smiled and watched them sing, enjoying the music in ways he hadn't done in years. The quartet seemed to take pleasure in singing, and music, in a way he'd been missing since his childhood. He watched the four of them support each other, lifting the audience with their music. Dylan swayed with the music, enjoying the party atmosphere they created. He completely forgot this was a rehearsal. Dylan applauded with the crowd and watched several couples dance in the grass off to one side. Everyone cheered for more. Their range included everything from pop rock to reggae, and Dylan now understood why this group drew such a crowd. They were a joy to listen to. As the selections continued, Dylan watched Taj's stage presence closely. The warm smile Taj showed everyone shone here as well, just a piece of his stage presence, a persona he donned. He wanted to know more about the real Taj, not the persona. He wondered if Taj would really ever just sing for him alone, and if then he'd see a piece of his real heart. Dylan knew that when the time came and Taj remembered, he would hold this as a cherished memory of their friendship. Taj would reject him, he was well aware of that, but they were friends now, and he intended to enjoy it 54

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as long as it lasted. By not telling Taj outright where they'd met before, he was being selfish. Dylan wanted to be friends. He'd always wanted to be Taj's friend, even all those years ago. He owed Taj the truth, but took advantage of his lapse in memory and indulged his fantasy, aware that dreams didn't last.

****

The final song "Stand by me" began and Andre's mellow bass led into the smooth melody. Taj sang to Dylan, trying to reach him through the music, to express his feelings even though he was unsure what they were. He felt his growing attraction and put it into the strains of the music filling the air, carried on the evening breeze. When they finished, Taj walked over to where Dylan and Paul stood beside the maple tree. Taj grinned, hearing Dylan regaling Paul with the intricacies and dynamics of the quartet and the difficulties of maintaining pitch without accompaniment. Paul had absolutely no interest in music, yet he attempted to appear riveted to every word Dylan said. Taj came up alongside Dylan. "Well, what do you think?" "You were amazing. You all retained pitch from the 55

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first song through to the last, even transitioning from one song to another. It's astonishing how you controlled the volume fluctuations while moving from one intonation to the next. You even produced what sounded like a real rhythm section. I could've sworn there you had a percussionist. You're a marvel!" The Diva who had put up with Paul disappeared as Dylan chattered happily. Taj led the way back towards the dorm, Dylan at his side, with Paul falling behind sighing in defeat. "I'm glad you enjoyed the music. We've worked very hard for the last two years to achieve that sound. We all have to be doing our part together; no one person can do what we do. With a group there is no star, you have to support each other." They walked into the dorm and headed for the elevators. "Ok, you two. Here's where I leave you, my Honey Bear." Paul kissed his fingertips, reached out—Dylan slapped his hand away in annoyance. "I'm gonna go check on Ben." Paul winked at Taj and headed down the hall to the left, chuckling. Taj and Dylan waited for the elevator. They rode up in an uncomfortable silence. When they got off the elevator, Taj and Dylan walked back to Dylan's room together, and the two stood in front of the closed door. 56

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"Umm… So how did you like your first day at college?" Taj asked. "Everything you expected?" Dylan laughed. He stood with his back against the hallway wall. "It was amazing, overwhelming, frightening, confusing, everything and more. Thank you." "I gotta admit, this is the best start to a semester I've had in a long time. I'm glad you came, even if I can't figure out where I could've met you before." Taj leaned against the opposite wall, his heart beating fast. His insides churned with nervous anxiety. Simply standing in the hallway with Dylan had him all worked up. This would be the best and worst friendship of his life. Dylan, beautiful, shy, intelligent, and so magnetic that he drew Taj on, calling to him and driving him crazy. Every nerve ending in his body lusted after Dylan. He wanted to protect him, yet the erection in his jeans screamed to bend him over any flat surface and fuck him mindless. He wanted to know what the fragile blond would feel like beneath his hands, wrapped around his body. Dylan said nothing, and Taj realized he really had to go back to his room. "Well, tomorrow is another busy day. My morning is pretty clear, but in the afternoon I have a couple of practices, an Ambassador's Club meeting, and I need to get together with Dr Browne. If you want, you can shadow me. Get to know more about the campus and the 57

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music department. About the only thing you can't come to would be my meeting with the Director." "Sure, sounds like fun. Just let me know if I'm in the way, I'm used to fending for myself." Dylan's smile lit up his world. "Well, good night." Taj waved and headed back for his dorm room. "Good night." Dylan smiled and headed into his room. Taj had to get out of there. He so wanted to just lean over and kiss Dylan. He wanted to run his fingers through his golden hair and caress his face. Then he would go screaming into the night, Taj thought to himself. No matter how he thought the scenario through, after Dylan's earlier reaction to gays, Taj couldn't come up with one scenario which didn't involve large amounts of alcohol… and didn't end up with the blond running for the hills. Yep, the best, and worst, friendship ever.

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Chapter 4 Sunday August 22, 2010

Warm hands stroked his body, brushed across his face, and long fingers ran through his hair. He sighed at the feeling of those large, warm hands against his skin, the gentle touch making his body tingle with delight. He moaned and leaned into the warm caresses setting his skin on fire. His heartbeat raced and he ran his hands along the body of his lover, seeking his face. He had to know, needed to know… then he was sure his lover was a man. He couldn't resist… it felt so good, he didn't care; the strong warm caress, the wet kisses down his neck, the tight hard grip on his cock, slowly stroking, rubbing, pressing against the crease in the head of his cock, feeling his hot breath brushing against his neck. He wanted more, needed more— "So good, Dylan," the deep voice whispered into his ear. Dylan looked up into Taj's green eyes. "More Taj, please!" Dylan cried out. Dylan moaned, his eyes flying open. For a brief second he was unsure where he was before recognizing his dorm room and realizing he'd woken himself up. With a frustrated sigh he groaned at his gross, sticky pajama pants. 59

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Damn, he hadn't had wet dreams like this since junior high, and even then, his fantasy partners had always been sexy girls, never guys. He couldn't understand where the dreams were coming from and why they wouldn't stop. He recognized sexual frustration, but he'd never been attracted to anyone or aroused like this. Every morning for the past week, he had woken up to the most erotic dreams of his life, and sticky sheets. His embarrassment threatened to cost him time with Taj. Some mornings at breakfast he could barely make eye contact with Taj without blushing. He couldn't figure out why this was happening. Yes, he liked Taj. He always had. The more he got to know him, the more he cherished this friendship. He'd wanted this relationship with Taj for years and had regretted the way events in the past had prevented it. Regret didn't explain these dreams. There was nothing regretful about them. It's the excitement of finally having Taj as my friend, Dylan thought, and the fact Taj had told him about being gay, bleeding through his subconscious. The fulfillment of something I've wanted for so long, Dylan tried to tell himself with little success. Yeah, right. Even his subconscious wasn't buying that. Dylan couldn't seem to get enough. He felt hyper60

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aware of Taj, his physical proximity, what he wore, how he walked, his tone of voice when he spoke, and all the little touches, when Taj brushed up against him or put a hand at the small of his back, subtly guiding Dylan in front of him. He enjoyed every minute they were together, even the uncomfortable moments first thing in the morning when he felt so awkward because of his dreams. He craved Taj's touch after a night of erotic dreams, so when they would accidentally brush against one another, going out a door or if their legs would touch under the table sitting side by side in the cafeteria, or if they both reached for the button on the elevator at the same time, electric shocks went through his body. He struggled not to flinch away from Taj, especially when that seemed to be the last thing he wanted. Not that he understood this urge, and he refused to analyze these feelings. He'd been shocked the first morning, after he'd said goodnight to Taj in the hallway and awoke having creamed his underwear. He'd stripped his bedding and remade the bed. Taj had a busy schedule and Dylan couldn't follow him around all day, so when he found some time to himself, he'd gone down to the laundry room and washed the sheets and pajamas. When his head hit the pillow after an exhausting day, thoughts of Taj touching him were not even 61

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whispering in his mind, yet the following morning he again awoke to wet sticky sheets and visions of Taj's hands on his body. Morning six, and he awoke to yet another of the most intense wet dreams he'd ever had. His roommate should be moving in on Saturday and here he lay dreaming about a man, creaming his sheets in his sleep. How do you control your dreams? What if he moaned in his sleep or called out Taj's name, while his body—and he woke his roommate up? Oh, god—this had to stop, and soon. He hadn't lost it like this since he turned thirteen and discovered tits. Dylan groaned and got out of bed, grabbing the tissue from his desk and cleaning himself up. He stripped the bedding yet again, took off his soiled clothing, dumped them in the hamper in the closet, grabbed his bathrobe and soap, and headed for the showers. He needed to meet everyone for breakfast soon. Another morning of attempting to control his reactions to Taj, when the man filled his every thought. Well, if he had to be dreaming about a man, he could do a lot worse than Taj. The man simply steamed. His body, strong and tight, his hands, warm and gentle… but his green eyes attracted Dylan the most. Yes, somewhere around morning four Dylan began to admit to himself he was physically attracted to Taj, although what to do, if anything, had him at a loss. He'd told Taj in no 62

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uncertain terms that he was not gay, but the line somehow seemed to be blurring for him, at least where Taj was concerned. What to do, if anything? He had no clue, but if Taj were to reach out to him, seriously touch him, he wouldn't push Taj away. They'd already fallen into a routine. Dylan knew he would spend the day following Taj around campus, they'd laugh and talk, Taj would go to practice or work on scores and run errands for Dr Browne. When Taj had meetings, Dylan would go to the dorm, run a load of laundry, and catch up with Taj later, usually in the cafeteria. They'd meet with the guys for meals and a movie or TV in the lounge after dinner. He found himself not wanting the evenings to end after such a great day. He didn't want to be separated from Taj, even for the night. How screwed up was that, where was his head at? When the evening ended according to plan, he left the lounge with Taj following after him, walking him to his room. "Want to come in for awhile?" Dylan, smiling at Taj, unlocked his room. "Sure, why not? I'm not ready to go to bed yet." Dylan sat down on his bunk and scooted back against the wall, grinning up at Taj. "I can't thank you enough for this week, letting me follow you around all the 63

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time. I'm going to miss this when classes start." Taj sat down next to Dylan, scooting back against the wall beside him, their shoulders touching slightly. Taj knew he'd been taking advantage of times like this whenever he could this past week. He'd brush against Dylan when he came close enough, reaching for him, touching his arm and ruffling his hair. His hands literally ached to touch Dylan. His feelings had been getting stronger, too. Taj had to suppress his surprise every time Dylan accepted his advances without pushing him away. Granted, the contact had been very casual, but when Paul tried the same thing, at the very least, his advances were brushed away in annoyance, sometimes accompanied by a scowl which would chill the blood, leaving Paul annoyed and Taj decidedly happy. "It's been my pleasure. You've been more help than you probably realize. You have a really great ear, and having you listen in on the group practices has helped me to refine our performances. I can hardly wait for the competitions this fall. We're so going to blow our competition out of the water." Dylan tried to stifle a yawn and leaned into Taj slightly, dropping his head to the side onto Taj's shoulder. "I'm completely exhausted. I've no idea what I need to do tomorrow and at this moment, I really don't care." Dylan 64

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sighed, closing his eyes. Taj struggled to control himself. Dylan couldn't be aware of how he was driving him crazy with desire. Taj couldn't let on or Dylan would never be comfortable around him again. He would lose this easy camaraderie they had developed. Yet he needed to touch Dylan, kiss him, ravish him. He leaned over, resting his cheek against the top of Dylan's head, and sighed. Neither of them moved for a while. Taking a chance, Taj rested his hand palm up on top of the pillow Dylan clutched. He didn't move, leaving the invitation open. If Dylan felt the same he would take Taj's hand, if he didn't he could brush him away, no harm done and Taj would know not to try again. Taj closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the gods—please… please please please… Dylan looked at the hand lying on the pillow. Without hesitation or thought, he reached out and grasped Taj's hand, lacing their fingers. The surprise at what he had done didn't seem to register until Taj squeezed his hand back in response. Dylan froze and Taj felt him go still. Taj wanted to dance around the room, thrilled beyond words; even if he didn't get a kiss tonight. Dylan had just accepted him. Whether Dylan really understood what he'd done or not, Taj didn't know, but there was no denying this first step for the shy, reserved Dylan. Taj would go slowly, 65

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because the prize was worth every moment. Taj stayed still, closing his eyes, enjoying the connection. He soothingly ran his thumb along the top of Dylan's thumb and began to hum softly. Slowly Dylan relaxed under his touch. Without even thinking, Taj hummed "Stand by Me". He didn't even realize, he was humming until he heard Dylan on harmony. Taj wanted to kiss him so badly, to slip his hands into his golden hair. The desire was so strong his fingertips itched, but he couldn't move, lest he break the spell they were under, the moment so sweet and tender. Taj slowly brought the back of Dylan's hand to his mouth and kissed it. Dylan didn't flinch or miss a heartbeat, but drew Taj's hand to his mouth in response and kissed the back of Taj's hand in response. Taj felt his control slipping; he was deliriously happy with disbelief, his voice husky with desire. "If you don't stop, or say you don't want this—I'm going to kiss you. I want you so badly." His hand trembled in Dylan's grasp. "Right now, I don't care. I feel so good and happy— I think I want you to kiss me." Dylan whispered in a soft, wispy voice. Taj slowly leaned forward and turned to look Dylan in the eyes, needing to be sure that he understood and 66

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wanted this too. Without letting go of Dylan's hand, Taj cupped Dylan's face and tipped his head gently upward. Ever so slowly, he moved in and brushed his lips against Dylan's for a first kiss that was an infinitely gentle caress. They drew apart, both of them breathless. Taj leaned in, taking possession of Dylan's lips, nibbling at the edges then hungrily stroking and tasting them with his tongue. When Taj pulled back, Dylan whimpered softly at the loss. Taj's fingers stroked his jaw and rested in the crook of his neck. Dylan's mind went blank, Taj's kisses were so much better than anything he'd imagined in his dreams. They stole his breath and thought, leaving only the overwhelming desire for more. "Dylan, open your mouth for me, sweetheart," he whispered, running his fingertips along the hollow at the base of Dylan's neck. Taj stared, his eyes transfixed as Dylan's lips parted slightly and his tongue slipping out to moisten his bottom lip. Taj closed in for a kiss that began sweet, gentle, and innocent, increasing to the heights of passion, leaving them both gasping for air.

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Chapter 5 Friday August 27, 2010

Dylan and Taj reveled in their kisses. Taj sat on Dylan's bed, his back against the wall. Dylan, between his outstretched legs, encircled in his arms, leaning into Taj's chest, resting his head against Taj's shoulder. Their kisses were long and sweet, filled with the breathless desire and lusty promises of more. Taj controlled his need with a force of will he'd been unaware he had, taking each loving caress with infinite care, afraid the first wrong move would send Dylan running. They'd grown more passionate during the week, moving from simple caresses and kisses to some light petting and heavy kisses, each becoming more sure of the other. Taj came down to Dylan's room every morning, sharing a sweet interlude and then breakfast together. Taj was determined to take things slowly for Dylan, who had no idea how innocent he really was. Taj wanted to give him all the time he needed to adjust to his new sense of self and his desires. Taj would court the little blond, teasing him and tempting him until he had no resistance left. "So I guess I'm gay." Dylan chuckled, glancing up 68

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at Taj's face and holding tightly to him. He felt safe and secure encircled by Taj's strong arms, snuggled into his chest. "Who knows? I think words like 'gay' or 'homosexual' are just words people use to hurt others. Love just happens between people; man and woman, man and man, or woman and woman." Taj whispered into Dylan's hair and kissed the top of his head. "What's right? It's nobody's business but ours, as long as we're happy they have no right to say it's wrong." "Yeah—I like that." Dylan looked up seeking Taj's green eyes and grinned when Taj lowered his head to kiss Dylan. Was this love or something else? Logic told him he would regret this, but he couldn't find the energy to care. He didn't really know about love. If falling in love with Taj, whose green eyes could see into his soul, would hurt later… He didn't care, he didn't want to stop now. Wrapped in Taj's arms, his desire for Taj's body, his heart, his mind, his all… screamed for more. Completely absorbed in each other, the two were oblivious to the increasing noise level out in the hall. "Taj! Hey, Taj! I know you're up here somewhere! Come on man, I need your help!" Paul ran down the hallway pounding on doors yelling at the top of his lungs. "Taj! Really man, I'm not kidding here! Taj!" 69

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The racket out in the hall finally registered with Taj, pulling him from the heated world inhabited only by Dylan and himself. Taj realized Paul's voice was filled with panic. "What the hell?" Taj pulled Dylan to his feet, then out the door with Dylan right behind him. "Hey Paul! Over here! What the hell?" "Hey man, we've got a problem. Ben's at it again, James caught him just before he really hurt himself. He's babbling about something and asking for you." Paul said, flashing Dylan a nervous smile. "Sorry for interrupting, Honey Bear." "Oh, damn it all!" Taj took off running down the hall, pulling Dylan along towards the elevator where James stood holding the doors open, waiting for them. When the door closed, Dylan looked at Taj, who pulled him against his chest, holding him close. "Am I going to be in the way?" Dylan asked. "What's happened?" Paul looked at Taj and the two shared a look, and Taj sighed. "Ben and Taj grew up together. Sometimes, Ben has trouble dealing, and he—well he relies on Taj to help him." Paul stammered, while Taj held tightly to Dylan. "No, you won't be in the way," Taj said. "But Ben's a cutter." He hesitated. The elevator doors opened and the four of them ran down the hallway to where Justin stood in 70

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a doorway, clearly keeping an eye on someone in the room while watching for them. "What's he doing here?" Justin asked, nodding at Dylan who unconsciously shrank back behind Taj, already feeling a bit out of place. "He's with Taj. Leave him be." James nodded towards the door, "How is he?" "Same. Won't quit mumbling and I can't understand a thing he's saying." Justin sighed. "I cleaned up, and took away the blades, but—" Taj brushed past Justin and walked into the room to find Ben sitting in a chair staring blankly ahead at nothing, mumbling to himself and rocking slightly. There were white bandages wrapped around Ben's left arm, and drying blood on the desk and over the top of notebooks. Paul put a restraining hand on Dylan's shoulder, drew him away from the door out to the lounge. "It looks worse than it really is." "Was he trying to kill himself?" "No, not really." Paul said. "Then why?" "Taj and Ben have been friends since grade school, and Ben relies on him. I'm sure he'll probably explain to you later what's going on, but right now you have to let him go." Paul led Dylan over to the sofa and sat down beside 71

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him. James followed, while Justin stayed at the doorway in case Taj needed help. "Is Ben going to be okay? Did he do this because Taj and I are getting closer? I saw Ben kissing Taj." Dylan stared at the floor. "No, this has nothing to do with you. We all should've suspected something like this could happen. You know Ben told some girl he loved her that day, and she shot him down. He doesn't handle rejection well. He soothes his pain the best way he knows how." Paul shook his head. "This is a pain he has complete control over, but only to a point." "Did he—" Dylan paused and shook his head. "You want to know what's going on, Dylan?" James spoke up. "I'll tell you. Ben's an asshole and he does this all the damn time, but no more, I don't care about his 'secret' anymore. Fucker always pulls this crap, getting all of us to run around like a bunch of idiots. He plays us like puppets for the attention." James paced up and down, venting. "I don't have the compassion or patience for him anymore. I mean, really! Come on, Paul, you know the drill by now. Taj is gonna play nursemaid and baby him for a couple weeks. Then Ben will get stronger because of his attention, and when he gets stronger, Taj will pull back. Eventually Ben will need his security blanket, some little thing will go 72

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wrong, he'll flip again and we'll be going through this bullshit all over again. I'm done! No more!" James scowled over his shoulder, heading for the elevator. "I'm going to bed. You fools can do what you want. If I were you, Dylan, I'd watch Ben, because he's after Taj, no matter what they say." Paul sighed and ran his hand over his face watching James storm off. "Ignore him, Honey Bear. If anyone has feelings, it's that fool—for Ben. I've been watching him fawn over Ben for the last two years. Ben has an episode and James goes into a jealous rage because Ben doesn't call for him. I think Ben has feelings for James, too, but he won't act on them, no matter how strongly James comes on to him." Paul patted Dylan on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Taj only has eyes for you." Dylan frowned slightly at Paul's comment. He didn't know if he was ready to be thought of as more than Taj's friend by others, although they weren't hiding anything from anyone. Taj might be a bit more reserved in his affection in public than they were in his room, but amongst their friends Taj held very little back. Taj stepped into the doorway and put a hand on Justin's shoulder. "Ok, I'm going to take Ben to the hospital to see his doctor. I've got him convinced to go. The cuts aren't deep, but his state of mind is really bad. I don't think 73

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he's been taking his medication." "I'll come too." Justin went into the room. Taj moved to stand in front of Dylan and held out his hand, frowning when he realized Paul had an arm draped around him. Dylan took Taj's hand and stood up, stepping into his waiting arms, and gave Taj the hug and reassurance they both needed. "Are you okay?" Dylan asked looking up into Taj's worn features. "Yeah, it's just exhausting dealing with him when he gets like this. But I'll get him the help he needs and—" Taj sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Where's James? Ben asked for him." "He's off playing the jealous martyr. I'll go find him and bring him to the hospital." Paul stood and headed off down the hallway. "You're taking him to the hospital." Dylan's comment was more statement than question "Yes. I need to go, he's one of my best friends." Taj tried to explain. "I have to call his parents and let them know. You stay here, okay? At least one of us can get a good night's sleep, and I'll come get you in the morning. We can go to breakfast together, if you want." Taj fingered a lock of golden hair. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize everything in case Dylan decided this was too 74

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much to deal with. "Okay, call or text me when you get back. I don't care what time it is, just let me know you're back and you're all right." "Okay." Taj smiled down into the eyes of his lover, holding him for a moment longer, knowing he had to leave "I'm really sorry. I so don't want to let you go tonight." Taj squeezed Dylan tightly. "Usually he's not this bad, but this time I'm really worried about him. I'm worried about you too," He added softly. "Are you okay with this? You know, me running off with another guy like this, I'm really sorry. I wish—I only wanted to be with you tonight." "I'm fine, go. I'm okay. I understand. Go get Ben some help, and come back." Dylan smiled up at Taj. "I love your smile. Especially since I've only seen you smile for me." Taj sighed when Justin led a slowmoving Ben from the room. "I gotta go. I'll see you soon." Taj kissed Dylan quickly and then let him go, running ahead to hold open the door for Justin, who kept an unsteady Ben on his feet and moving. Dylan watched until they were gone then went to the elevators and headed back to his room. The day had gotten completely out of control and he felt overwhelmed by his emotions. He didn't know what to do with them all. He could take care of himself, but he didn't know what to 75

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do with the fact he wanted to be there for Taj. He'd been too afraid to even dream he'd be accepted by Taj as a friend, much less as a lover. He didn't really know how to be a friend, he'd never had one before. His desire for Taj was clearly more than friendship, and he wanted even more. Dylan shivered at the thought of what he'd go through, once Taj remembered him. He got off the elevator and walked down the hallway towards his room. James sat on the floor in front of his door, his head in his hands. "James? What are you doing here? Paul's looking for you–Ben's asking for you." "Yeah, well, he would be calling for me now. He always does. God, what does he think I'm made of?" James sighed, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Come on. Let's get out of the hallway." "What am I going to do with him? I really love that jerk but he treats me like a joke. I've told him how I feel. He never says anything. But when he's in trouble, he always leans on Taj, and then calls for me later. I guess I'm not good enough to help him. Why won't he let me be the one to help him?" James buried his head in his hands and slumped at Dylan's desk. "I don't know. I can't guess what his problem is, but maybe he doesn't—" "I know, maybe he just doesn't want me, period." 76

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"Well, yeah. Or maybe he doesn't want you to see him like this. I mean, if he knows how much you care, maybe he's ashamed, so he calls on someone who he knows he won't hurt, then tries to make it up to you later. At least that's how it looks to me, but what do I know? I don't know him very well." Dylan shrugged and poured water into two cups and stuck them into the microwave on a stand at the foot of his bed. "But I love him! I don't care if he's embarrassed. I want to be there to help him, especially when things are bad." "Have you told him you want to be there? Does he know you don't want him to hide anything from you?" Dylan tried to busy himself getting the tea ready. "Well, no, not in so many words. Shouldn't he understand that when I tell him I love him?" James looked up at Dylan, scowling. "No, not necessarily. Don't you want to protect him, take care of him and all that… stuff?" Dylan waved his hand in the air dismissively. He could not believe this conversation. How embarrassing, thinking like this about another man… actually talking aloud about your feeling for him… it was crazy… awkward at best… wasn't it? Before he realized he liked Taj, he would never have considered having this type of conversation. He had never discussed 77

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feelings openly, his or anyone else's. If he'd learned anything from his childhood, it was that your feelings could be used to hurt you. Yet here he sat, discussing love like he would the weather or the latest flavor of coffee in the cafeteria. "Well, yeah, of course." "So maybe he feels the same. Only, the thing he's trying to protect you from is a part of himself he's ashamed of?" Dylan nodded. He could easily understand being afraid to show a side of yourself to someone, especially someone you cared deeply about. He also had things he hoped to never let people see, like the person underneath the mask. He used to be good at hiding himself, before Taj saw through the mask. Now he couldn't seem to find a way to keep the mask in place—it kept slipping off. "You really think…? Well, I guess—makes a kind of sense?" James sat quietly. The microwave went off and Dylan took the cups out and made tea. He put the cup in James's hands, but left James to his thoughts while he took out his cell phone and texted Taj. Dylan@Taj: If Paul is still looking for James, he's in my room. I think he's almost ready to see Ben. The phone buzzed back almost immediately. Taj@Dylan: Oh thank god! I'll let P know. He's been searching. B's upset cause J hasn't shown. Keeps 78

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saying J must be ashamed of him. Dylan@Taj: So not it. More like green w/ jealousy cause B doesn't want his help. Making him crazy. Taj@Dylan: P on his way. When J gets here, I might be able to come back. I hope. Waiting for B's mom. Thanks Dylan. Dylan sat on the bed. He'd be glad when Taj came back. Having never had friends before, he didn't know if he should have said anything. He watched James go from clutching the cup of tea in his hands to rolling the cup back and forth between his palms. Dylan sighed and sipped his tea, leaving James to his own thoughts. A soft knock on the door alerted Dylan to Paul's arrival. "It's unlocked," he called. "James, come on, let's go. Ben wants to see you. He thinks you're mad at him. Let's go and see him, 'kay?" Paul put a hand on James shoulder and smiled at Dylan. "Thanks, Dylan. Really. Thank you for this." Dylan nodded, amazed Paul had actually used his name for the first time ever. "No problem. Just get him to the hospital so Taj can come back. I'm just being selfish, so quit making such a fuss." He had just about had all he could take of the drama. He'd dealt with more emotions tonight than he had in years. All he could think about, all he cared 79

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about—he wanted Taj to come home to him. He needed Taj to hold him and make all his doubts and fears go away, make him forget the past. "Yeah, sure, selfish. Makes perfect sense." Paul grinned mischievously at Dylan. "You keep being such a darling, I'm going to get you, my sweet Honey Bear." Paul put his hand to his lips and blew Dylan a kiss, then followed James out the door. "Dream on." Dylan shot after Paul sarcastically, hearing Paul's laughter echo down the hallway.

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Chapter 6 Saturday August 28, 2010 Orientation Day

Morning dawned early for Dylan. He wondered if Taj had returned from the hospital. There were no more text messages on his cell phone, which still lay on the bed beside his pillow. Dylan knew his roommate would show up sometime today; his name was Anthony Bissonette, and his major, architecture. Dylan didn't have a schedule today. He wanted to spend the day with Taj, but as a member of the Ambassadors Committee, Taj would be busy helping new students move into the dorms and giving tours of the campus. Dylan knew he'd be lucky to catch sight of him, even in passing. He just wanted to see him, to know everything would be okay. Dylan's

stomach

growled

loudly.

Obviously,

breakfast would be first on the schedule, then maybe the library or a practice room. He'd already finished the reading list for his literature classes, but books had become his friends over the years. The library was his haven, a place where he found solace from the rest of the world. 81

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After a shower and getting ready for the day, Dylan wandered down to Taj's room and knocked, but no one answered. Maybe he hadn't come back from the hospital yet. Dylan sighed and felt the beginnings of depression creeping up on him. Grumbling, he threw himself a pity party, aching to see Taj, to touch him. To remind himself of what Taj felt like against his body, Taj's hands in his hair. Taj would only get busier throughout the day, but they didn't have any definite plans. He was starting to feel like everything might've been a dream. Taj had mentioned meeting for breakfast, but if he hadn't come back, that'd be out of the question. He needed to see Taj to confirm his feelings were real. Finally giving up, he decided to text him. Dylan@Taj: 'R you back? Everything k? I'm heading 2 breakfast.' Dylan sent the message and headed to the main floor lobby. Paul spotted him the minute he got off the elevator. "There's my Honey Bear!" Paul called. He reached out, capturing Dylan's right hand in both of his, kissing the back before Dylan could snatch his hand and shove Paul away from him. He so was not in the mood for Paul's crap today. Dylan frowned coldly, "Morning," he mumbled, 82

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glaring up at Paul. "Oh, so cold, you give me chills. My Honey Bear's not a morning person." Paul grumbled but smiled. "Good morning, my love, are you heading for breakfast?" Paul went on, refusing to give in to Dylan's frosty exterior. "Paul, I'm not your love, I'm not your 'honey bear', and I really don't appreciate having to deal with your crap this morning." He sighed. "Yes. I'm going to breakfast. Have you heard from Taj? "Oh, good luck with that. It'll be a miracle if you even get a glimpse of him today. I'd be surprised if he even has half a minute to text. He's already in meetings with the Ambassador's Committee. I'd guess he's here somewhere in the dorm, running around like a chicken with his head cut off. Don't fret, Honey Bear. This is his busiest day of the year, second only to the mid-term, when some students move out and others move in." Paul snickered and put a hand on the small of Dylan's back, guiding him out the door into the bright morning sun and clear blue skies. Dylan practically growled at Paul's refusal to drop the Honey Bear shit. He sighed knowing trying to change Paul would be a lost cause. "He said he would text me and we could go to breakfast together." Dylan shook off Paul's hand, his mood turning darker at the idea of the day going by without hearing from Taj. 83

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"I'll keep you company. When Taj is finished sometime this evening, I'm sure he'll come looking for you and apologize. What would you like to do today? Catch a movie? Hit the mall, shopping? You name it." Despite the obvious attempt to soothe him, Dylan's frustration only mounted. "I thought I'd go to the library. You don't have to come with me, if you don't want to." He hoped Paul would take the hint, and the thought of the library would put the man off. He didn't relish spending the day with the amorous Paul hitting on him. "Now why on earth would I leave you to roam around this huge campus on your own? You could end up eaten alive by someone—like me, and I'd never forgive myself. Your wish is my command, so to the library we shall go." Paul bowed from the waist, opening the cafeteria door and ushered Dylan through the door. "Knock it off. I'm not some princess, you know." Dylan frowned and shook his head at Paul's contradictory behavior. He could be so thoughtful of his friends, and yet at the same time he could be the most annoying drama queen, insisting on attention, good or bad. The more irritated you became, the more he milked the attention. Dylan knew there must be more to Paul than the show he put on, but he had no interest in delving beneath the surface. 84

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They filled their breakfast trays and found seats, when Dylan's phone buzzed. Taj@Dylan: Where are you? Dylan@Taj: Cafeteria with Paul A moment later, Dylan felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into the green eyes he'd been hungry for since morning. "Taj!" he squeaked excitedly, before Taj gave him a brief kiss. "We're in public! What are you doing?" Taj sat down beside him. "Good morning. I'm sorry I didn't get to text you earlier." He glanced over Dylan's breakfast tray, snatched the apple, and took a bite. "I got back to the dorm, barely had time to shower and had to go to my first meeting. Ben's mom came up to the hospital and I ended up staying with her at the hospital. When I finally drove her home, out to the farm, she wanted me to stay in the guest room and not drive back to town alone." "Is he going to be all right?" Paul asked, for once true concern showing in his face. "Not really. He's going to be in the hospital for a while." Taj leaned into Dylan, placing a hand on his thigh under the table. "I'm sorry I won't be able to spend much time with you today. I'd so rather be with you, just hanging out like last night, but I will be chasing after everyone, making sure they all get checked in." 85

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Dylan blushed from below the collar of his T-shirt to the roots of his blond hair. "No big. All I have planned for today is to be buried in the classical literature stacks in the library." Dylan took Taj's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Dylan couldn't believe just how much Taj didn't care if people knew about them, but Dylan had trouble with public affection. He didn't really care if people thought he was gay. He'd been called gay and fag for a very long time, and it had ceased to bother him. But dealing with emotions so new to him, and having them there for all the world to see—he couldn't quite cope. Taj smiled at him and pressed his hand into his stomach. "I'll keep an eye on him. No one will upset Honey Bear with me hanging around." Paul eyed Taj defiantly. "And who'll keep an eye on you?" Taj's eyebrows drew together in a tight scowl. "Nobody needs to keep an eye on me. I'm not helpless. Geez, you two." Taj took another bite of the apple, and then grinned triumphantly at Paul. "I know, I'll tell Justin you'll be at the library. His girlfriend, Lisa, is a lit major. I bet they can drop in and check up on you." Taj whispered in Dylan's ear, "I'm not worried about you handling yourself, more to keep him from eating you alive before I get my chance." Dylan shook his head and sighed with fake 86

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exasperation "Both of you are too much!" Taj laughed, glanced around at the nearly empty cafeteria and leaned into Dylan's ear, "I'm just jealous I can't spend the time with you, and this moron is planning on panting after you like a bitch in heat." "How quaintly put," Paul sniped at Taj, scowling. "Enough, already! I'm not interested in Paul and you both know it." "I know you can take care of yourself. He just drives me crazy." Taj let his breath caress Dylan's ear, smiling when he saw the shivers flow across Dylan's back. "Will you wait for me in your room tonight?" "Yes, but my roommate should be there by then." Dylan replied, drawing back so he could look into Taj's eyes. "Well, he is just going to have to get used to the idea. I'm not going to leave you alone just because of your roommate. Let's hope he's open-minded. If not, we'll figure something else out." Taj chuckled, "but I'm not going to worry until there's something to worry about." He leaned in and kissed Dylan once more, then got up and headed for the door, apple in hand. "See you later." "Jerk," Dylan mumbled, but he smiled in spite of himself. He could hardly contain himself. He wanted to chase after Taj, even though he'd just be in the way. 87

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Forcing himself to stay in his seat, he fought the desire to follow Taj around all day like a puppy. "What a beautiful smile." Paul remarked wistfully. Dylan's mood had greatly improved and he continued to beam, making small talk with Paul. He found he felt much more tolerant, now he'd seen Taj. Despite what Paul had said, Taj had found time to have breakfast with him. Well, not exactly breakfast, Taj had taken his apple, but he could have had the entire tray for all Dylan cared. Taj's kisses were worth anything. Having Taj hold his hand, even for just a few moments, made everything right in his world. After breakfast, Dylan headed to the library with Paul in tow. Dylan inhaled deeply, appreciating the smell of old books, dust, and paper permeating the library. Getting lost amongst the tomes of old leather bound books soothed Dylan like putting on an old pair of shoes. He smiled with contentment, looking around, getting his bearings and heading back into the stacks. Paul smirked and followed Dylan to the dark, quiet, classical literature section. When they were alone amid the tall shelves, in the shadows amongst the ancient books, Paul teasingly tapped Dylan on the left shoulder and ducked around to the right when Dylan turned to the left. "Ha. Made you look." Paul 88

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teased. "Quit, already. I'm trying to see what they have for a selection here." Dylan frowned but shook his head at Paul's antics. "Dylan, you know I like you, right?" Paul asked quietly. "Yeah, you really haven't hidden your interest." "Yet you still came here with me—alone. And you are back here, away from everyone. Why? I get the distinct feeling you don't like me, yet when you do things like this…?" "I do like you, Paul. You're an okay guy, but I'm not interested in you. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you. I've never known anyone like you. You personify everything a homophobic male would be terrified of. You're

aggressive,

you

wear

make-up,

you're

demonstrative, and you attract attention everywhere you go. You dress in a style all your own, and it works for you. You're the complete package, and the package screams 'queen'." Dylan crossed his arms over his chest smiling, he looked up into Paul's eyes. "You don't like the way I am." Paul said with a shake of his head, a statement not a question. "No, Paul. I do like you. You're brave and you put yourself out on the line every day, and if people don't like 89

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it, well, to hell with them. I admire your strength. I-I'm not that brave." "But you so are. You have this ice-cold demeanor. People cringe in fear of you. You can be so austere and regal, you have everyone looking up to you, wanting to please you, and you don't even see them. Me—everyone thinks I'm a slut who'll go after any man that crosses my path. It's not true, you know. I mean, sure, I talk a big game and I come on to a lot of guys…but I do what they expect me to do. I—" "You're just like me, you know. The cold diva bitch—yeah, well, I hide behind that person. People see what they want to see, so I give them what they expect. The real me… nobody sees. Well, almost nobody." A small smile crossed Dylan's lips. "You mean Taj, don't you. You really like him." "Yeah, I do." "I really don't stand a chance with you, do I?" Paul pushed Dylan gently back, until he felt his back against the wall, and ran a hand gently down Dylan's cheek. "It seems I just can't resist you." Dylan put his hands against Paul's chest and shoved him away. "Paul, No. I'm with Taj and you are his friend. Doing this will hurt all of us." "But you like me, you said you did." 90

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"Paul, don't twist my words. I like you, but I don't want you. You're a cool person and a strong person. But Taj… He's the one for me. Please Paul, I want to be your friend. I want you and Taj to still be friends. This, man, this is wrong." "I won't give up. I think we could be sweet together." Dylan pushed Paul back against the stack and walked past him, "Not a chance, Paul. Please, I'm asking you to let go. I'm already taken." Paul's pushy advances made Dylan crazy, but maybe after this, Paul would understand clearly. He did admire Paul, but he didn't 'like' Paul. The only one he cared about, who made his heart beat faster with a simple thought—only Taj. The feelings developing for Taj ran much deeper than he'd really thought possible. He'd never understood the concept of love. He sang of love and people talked about love. The movies were full of people in love. People loved everything from their toothpaste to their perfect prince charming and the term love covered it all. But the feelings brewing for Taj, the ones he was still a little afraid of, were different. When Dylan emerged from the stacks, he found Justin and his girlfriend, Lisa Anderson, sitting around one of the tables. He'd met Lisa at one of the rehearsals and had 91

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grown to like the brainy young woman. She shared an interest in classical literature with him and understood Chaucer. Justin teased and flirted with her, clearly trying to keep Lisa's attention, while she played at reading the book in front of her. "Hey Justin, I'm sorry, did Taj send you and Lisa over here?" Dylan asked self-consciously, glancing around looking to see if Paul had followed him from the back. "Yeah, but no big deal, Lisa's been begging me for the last week to come to the library, so she's thrilled. Where's Paul? Taj said he would be here with you." "Um, he's back in the stacks, I'm sure he'll be out in a while." "Okay. Well, grab a seat and a book." Justin grabbed Lisa's book, faking interest and pretending to hold the book out of her reach so he could read the title, while she giggled and tried to wrestle the wayward title from him. Dylan chuckled at their antics for a bit, considering joining them until he saw a grim-faced Paul making his way towards them from the stacks. "I'm sorry, Justin. I really don't feel well. I'm going to head back to the dorm. I'm sorry Taj sent you over here. Maybe we can do this again some other time." "Are you okay?" Lisa asked turning to look at Dylan in concern. 92

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"I'm fine, just a headache. I think I'm going to go take a nap." "Like I said, no worries. Hope you feel better soon. Maybe we'll see you later." Dylan walked back to the dorm, stopped by the mail room and grabbed his mail from his box, and headed for the elevator. Dylan absentmindedly thumbed through his mail, noting a large manila envelope from his family's attorney with a reluctant sigh. Resigned to the fact he wouldn't see Taj until much later, he prepared himself to spend the afternoon amongst the books in his room and wait for his roommate's arrival. When the elevator arrived, he got on and pressed the eight for his floor. Taj ducked in just before the door closed. He snuggled a shocked Dylan in his arms and hugged him tightly, raining kisses into his hair, enjoying the temporary privacy of the empty elevator car. "I just saw you walk in the door. Your roommate's here. This is a good time for me to introduce 'us' to him, and I get to hold you for a moment. Sorry, I but can't resist you." "I seem to be hearing that a lot today." Dylan whispered so softly Taj almost missed the softly voiced frustration before the bell rang, signaling they'd arrived on their floor. When they emerged from the elevator, Dylan stepped back into Taj's protective arms at the press of the 93

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crowd of students in the hall. Strange faces, new students moving in and busily carrying boxes into rooms previously closed and empty. Taj expertly wove them through the crowd down the hall towards Dylan's room. In addition to Dylan's things, the room now held a couple of boxes stacked at the foot of his roommate's bed, and a suitcase lay open on the bed. Anthony Bissonette seemed to be in the process of moving in, but they had the room to themselves for the moment. Dylan set his mail on his desk, trying not to let his annoyance with Paul interfere with his time with Taj. "He's probably on a campus tour," Taj said. "So— what's wrong? What did you mean in the elevator? Did something happen?" Taj wrapped his arms around Dylan and sat down on the bed, pulling Dylan onto his lap. Dylan clutched to Taj's chest, but simply shook his head. "You don't have time for this. You're neglecting your job." But leaned into Taj's embrace, closing his eyes and sighing. Being in Taj's arms made everything feel all right, regardless of what happened in the library. "Even I get to take a break. So what if I prefer to take it with you? Now talk to me." He stroked the back of Dylan's head, holding him tightly to his chest. "So classes don't start 'til Tuesday, but orientation starts tomorrow and Monday. I've already registered for my 94

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classes and I have my books. Do you need to register?" Dylan asked Taj, running his hand slowly from behind Taj's head, down over his shoulder to rest on his chest. Taj shivered, kissing the top of Dylan's head. "No, I pre-registered the end of last term before summer break. I'll be all yours." Taj looked down into Dylan's face. "You're driving me crazy, you know, but I really have to get back to work. Are you sure you're okay?" "I'm fine. Just a bit annoyed more than anything. I promise to tell you, but not now. I just want to enjoy spending time with you, since you are taking your break with me." "We'll have tonight, too. Don't forget, I'm all yours after dinner. Anyone who checks in after six goes through the dorm mom." Taj grinned. "After six, I can devote the rest of the week to giving you my own private orientation. Unless you want to listen to a bunch of professors give seminars on how wonderful this school is. Dr Browne told me you were exempt from the regular orientation since you were here two weeks early." "Hmm… I think I prefer your orientation. Well, get back to work so six will get here and we can enjoy ourselves." Dylan laughed, sounding forced even to him. He couldn't seem to make himself get off Taj's lap "Umm… There's something else we need to 95

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discuss. I'm a little nervous talking about this, because I know you haven't really thought much about being gay and sex, but we have to talk about it." Taj hedged nervously, looking into Dylan's eyes for his reaction. "Okay, what do I need to know? I… know I enjoy kissing you and feeling your hands on me, touching you." Dylan's voice got progressively softer with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. "I love it when you blush, baby." Taj whispered and froze when Dylan flinched away from him. "Dylan?" "I'm sorry. Please don't—don't take this the wrong way. But can you please not call me 'baby'? I-It just really—" Dylan stammered, but he couldn't really explain. Not now. Taj didn't have time and Dylan had never even dreamed of having to explain this. "Sure, how about sweetheart or better yet—" Taj grinned mischievously and leaned in, licking the outer edge of Dylan's ear and whispered, his hot breath dancing over the dampened skin on his ear, "lover." Dylan groaned "yes… better… good." Taj gave himself a shake. "We really don't have time to start anything now and I've no desire to be walking around all afternoon with a hard-on keeping me company while I try to work with a bunch of freshmen." He turned serious. "Dylan, we need to get tested. 96

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I'm guessing you're clean, but we haven't really talked about former relationships. I know I'm clean, but it's irresponsible not to be tested. Do you have any allergies, like to latex or anything?" Taj rubbed his hand up and down Dylan's back, trying to reassure him. Dylan started to tremble and Taj could feel him freezing up. "Latex? Umm… no. I'm not allergic. You mean like condoms, right?" Dylan blushed. "Yes." Taj brushed a finger over Dylan's burning cheek, leaning in for a gentle kiss. "Okay, I understand how sex works with girls and why you use condoms for birth control. Stupid question…" Dylan struggled to form his question. "Because I want to have sex with you. Once we get clean test results, I want to be with you." Taj struggled not to laugh, Dylan's naiveté had hit him hard, wanting to debauch his innocence. "Lover, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to take my cock and I'm going to sink deep in your ass and fuck you mindless." He leaned closer and whispered, "That's how two men have sex, lover." He nibbled the tender skin behind Dylan's ear, slowly making his way down his neck. "And you want to, with me?" Dylan shivered at the feeling of Taj mouth and tongue. "I really don't have much experience here, Taj. I've dated a couple girls, but we never 97

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went any farther than kissing. My mother was very controlling, she didn't think the girls were good enough for me and she always insisted on chaperoning my dates herself." "Oh, yes. I want to touch you, kiss you, and watch you come." Taj kissed down along his jaw, finally capturing his lips in a deep, sensuous kiss. "I'm glad I'm your first. But we won't do anything you aren't ready for. I'll take what I can get, whatever part you're willing to share with me." It all sounded good, the idea of touching and passion. He wanted to touch more of Taj, too. He had heard of anal sex, but he didn't know about being on the receiving end. Knowing Taj wanted them to get tested made him feel warm inside, showing him how much Taj cared and wanted them to be safe. "Okay, how about we go to the clinic and get blood drawn for the tests in the morning, after breakfast? The rest, I'll think about. I don't know, Taj, I've never even considered… I don't know what to say." "It's enough knowing you're willing to think about it." Taj sighed, holding Dylan against him, running his fingers through Dylan's hair. "You think I could brush this for you sometime?" "Anytime. And we don't even have to be tested for 98

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that." Dylan teased. The scraping sound of a key being inserted into the lock of the door warned Dylan and Taj they had company. Dylan moved quickly off Taj's lap to sit on the bed beside him. They still appeared too intimate for friends, but the rangy redhead who walked in the door didn't seem to notice. He looked like a walking advertisement for a jewelry store; a thick gold chain with a large crucifix, multiple ear piercings with gold rings going from small gauge hoops at the top to a larger gauge hoops in the lobes, a pierced eyebrow over his left eye, a diamond stud in his nose and, Dylan saw when he opened his mouth, a barbell stud piercing through his tongue. "Hi, I'm Tony Bissonette, your roommate," Tony said with a warm smile, setting the box he carried on top of the others at the foot of his bed. "Sorry, am I interrupting?" Tony looked hesitantly from Taj to Dylan. "No, you're not interrupting anything, nice to meet you. I'm Dylan Michaels, your roommate, and this is Taj Davis." Dylan stood up and shook Tony's hand, while Taj just smiled. Dylan ducked his head shyly and sat back down on the bed, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Well, I'd better be getting back. See you for dinner, right?" Taj asked looking at Dylan with a smile on his face. "Looking forward to it." Dylan beamed and grabbed 99

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a granola bar from his stash, tossing it to Taj who snatched it, winking at Dylan. Dylan's eyes followed Taj out the door. Once out of sight, Dylan sighed deeply then looked back at his roommate. "Don't tell me. You two are dating." Tony smirked at Dylan, who turned bright red. "Umm… Well, I guess so. Yeah. We met two weeks ago when I came to school early. I've spent pretty much every waking hour with him. I feel like we've known each other forever. I hope you'll be okay with us being together." He didn't want to make an enemy of his roommate, but better to be honest upfront. "No, it doesn't bother me. None of my business, really." Tony smiled, opening boxes and putting things away. "Oh, you're welcome to join us for dinner at the cafeteria. There should be a good-sized group going—Taj's friends; James, Paul, Tom, Justin, and probably his girlfriend Lisa, should all be there," Dylan dropped onto his bed and grabbed the mail from the attorney. "Cool, yeah, if you don't mind. I hate eating alone." Tony worked at finding places for his stuff. "Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" "Sure, go ahead." Dylan said absently, pulling pages from the envelope. The only one that made sense was a cover letter from the attorney explaining that the trust fund 100

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his grandparents had started to pay for his college education had been increased by their life insurance. Dylan threw down the letter and closed his eyes. He stretched out on his bunk, obsessing about Taj's kisses, warm arms, and strong hands. He kept imagining having sex with Taj, what being joined with Taj might feel like. He wondered if it would hurt… Might there be something in the library about gay sex? Probably very little. Tony plugged in his compact stereo and turned on a retro 80s music station. Dylan grinned to himself, listening to INXS singing "I Need You Tonight". Tony hummed along with the music while he worked. "I've got to go down for another load, but I think I'll grab a sandwich in the cafeteria. Want to come along?" "No, go ahead. I'm not hungry." Dylan smiled and watched Tony go out the door. He turned onto his side and sighed, thinking about what to do with Paul. He could be such an asshole, and part of Dylan wanted to beat the crap out of him. A knock brought him out of his reverie, the door opened slowly. Tony hadn't locked it when he left. "Honey Bear, are ya decent? I'm coming in. I just want to talk." Paul called, opening the door. He glanced around at the boxes of stuff scattered about half the room. Dylan sat up on the bed, eying him warily. "What do you want, Paul?" 101

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"I'm sorry, Dylan. I was way out of line. I understand what you were saying in the library and I just wanted to apologize. I do want us to be friends. I'm hoping we can be friends." Paul stood with his back at the door, hands up in a surrender gesture, barely inside the room, his normally jovial attitude gone. "I'm going to tell Taj. I have to. He deserves to know." Dylan frowned at Paul as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot in front of the closed door. "I know. I have to apologize to him, too. I'm just waiting 'til he's done working for the day. It's probably my own cowardice, but I don't want to go and find him now when he has so much to deal with. I don't want to intrude on his job." Paul sighed and turned around, grabbing the doorknob to leave. "Sit down, Paul." Dylan sighed and pointed to his desk chair. He wanted this to work, and if Paul behaved himself then there would be no problem. Paul moved away from the door and sat down in the chair Dylan pointed to like a contrite child awaiting his punishment. "I'll accept your apology, but you have to realize there is nothing between us. I'm not attracted to you—there never will be anything between us." "Okay, I get it. I'll behave." Paul sighed. "Tell Taj and apologize. Then things will be okay 102

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between us. And no more Honey Bear shit, okay? I've had enough, and it's getting old." "Aw, I thought you liked me calling you Honey Bear, it so fits you." Paul teased, smiling when Tony came in carrying a box with a cafeteria take out bag perched on top. "Oh! I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" Tony asked looking at Paul and then Dylan. "No, you're not." Tony sat the box on his desk and looked at Paul then back to Dylan. "Tony, this is Paul Fen, Taj's roommate, Paul, this is my roommate, Tony Bissonette. By the way, you gotta keep an eye on this one. He's a major queen, so watch your back." Dylan eyed Paul cautiously, but Paul's eyes were glued to Tony. Paul turned to Dylan when Tony began digging into a box, unaware Paul pretended to fan himself, mouthing 'HOT' silently. "If I'm the queen, you're the princess, despite all your denial." Paul mocked right back at Dylan. "Don't mind him, Tony. He's just a bit moody because his new heartthrob is working today." "At least I didn't get rejected today." Dylan sniped defensively. Tony laughed, watching the catty behavior between 103

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them, oblivious to the fact his amusement had gotten Paul's attention. "So, what's your major, Paul?" Tony finished off his sandwich and continued unpacking. Dylan watched Paul with a smile. He seemed captivated by Tony, and Tony looked like he could take care of himself—and Paul. Shorter than Paul, Tony stood just a little over five foot nine or ten, but he clearly had a lot more muscle. Tony might just be the cure for Paul's unwanted attention. Tony looked good, with sleek, shoulder-length red hair, high cheekbones, which were lightly freckled, and large brown-black eyes. His style is just as ostentatious as Paul's, Dylan thought, comparing Paul's colorful attire to Tony's collection of decorative hardware. "I'm in interior design." Paul answered almost absently as he gazed at Tony, who turned to look at him curiously. "Hey, cool. I'm majoring in architecture. I do the outside and you the inside." Tony worked on organizing his drawing supplies in the desk drawers. He'd put together a folding easel which took up most of his workspace. "I'm gonna get a soda from the machine in the lobby," Dylan said, looking at Paul. "Can I get anyone anything?" 104

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"Sure, but… my treat, whatever Tony wants." Paul said. He looked over at Dylan, his eyes wide and then back at Tony. "Tony?" Dylan asked. He almost felt sorry for his new roommate. Tony would have his hands full with Paul. "Sure, bring me a Coke. Thanks." Tony smiled at Paul. That'll cost him, Dylan thought to himself, looking back at Paul. "Yeah, me too." Paul shoved cash into Dylan's hand. Then, realizing he held Dylan's hand, he met Dylan's eyes anxiously. "Behave." Dylan whispered, smiling to Paul and pulling his hands away. Paul grinned and looked back at Tony with a newfound interest. Dylan chuckled to himself, thinking his problem with Paul might just be solved. The activity in the dorm continued at a chaotic pitch. Dylan walked down the hall, dodging students laden with boxes. He pressed the button for the elevator, waiting patiently for the doors to open. A loud squeal and a slight shake announced the arrival of the elevator. Three people stumbled out, carrying boxes and bundles of various sizes, struggling off down the hall to their rooms. Dylan watched the chaos, thankful he'd chosen to move in early, while things were quiet. He got on the elevator along with one 105

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other empty-handed guy, who seemed to be sweating profusely. The doors closed with a mechanical groan, then, shuddering, the elevator began to descend. "Hi, I'm Dylan." Dylan smiled at the other student. "Hi. Danny." He held out his hand to Dylan and shook hands. "I hate moving in like this. It's a complete zoo out there." As the elevator proceeded jerkily down towards the main lobby, it lurched to a sudden stop between floors and the alarm went off. Dylan frowned and took a step back from the doors of the elevator. The acrid smell of scorched wires wafted out of the control panel. "Oh damn!" Danny started jabbing at buttons on the panel. The blaring of the alarm continued while he then tried to force the doors open. "Well, crap!" Dylan grumbled in annoyance, "Looks like we might be here for a bit." He smiled and tried to make light of the situation, seeing Danny's agitation rise. "I don't like closed in spaces." Danny mumbled. "I have panic attacks when I get closed in." "Calm down. It's going to be okay." Dylan spoke softly, trying to soothe Danny. "I'm sure they're already working on getting us out of here." The alarms on the elevator continued to go off, 106

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doing nothing to support Dylan's attempt at a positive attitude. "Help! We're stuck in here!" Danny screamed and banged on the door, his panic increasing with each minute they remained trapped. The elevator shifted slightly as Danny began to pace in front of the door, sweating, his eyes wide and frantic. With shaking hands, he pulled off the cover of the control panel, staring at the wires. "Um, Danny," Dylan said carefully, "Try to calm down. They've got to know the elevator is stuck and I bet they're trying to get us out." He moved away from Danny and the control panel as much as he could. "Maybe I can fix it," Danny muttered. "I don't think that's a good idea—" Danny suddenly grabbed a couple of wires. Sparks flew, and Danny hit the floor of the elevator hard. He didn't get back up, but lay trembling uncontrollably. Then the lights went out and the alarm died with a sickening squeal. Dylan pulled out his cell phone and punched the autodial for Taj, relieved when the screen's glow pushed the darkness back a little. Taj's voice seemed impatient and irritated. "Hey Dylan, I'm sorry, I can't talk, something is wrong with the elevator and—" 107

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"I know. I'm on the elevator." Dylan tried to control the panic edge in his voice. "There's another student with me, Danny, and he had a panic attack. He ripped off the panel over the buttons and I think he electrocuted himself. He's on the floor shaking." "Oh, God. That's a lot of voltage. Dylan, is he breathing? Is he conscious?" Taj asked. "Okay. Don't panic, I'll get you out of there." "Ah… just a sec." Dylan knelt beside Danny and put a hand on his chest, which seemed to rise and fall regularly. "He's unconscious, but breathing." "Okay. That's good. The maintenance people are on their way and I told the RA what Danny did, he called 911and there is an ambulance on the way. How are you doing? You doing okay, Dylan?" "Taj, talk to me. I'm really scared, I don't think Danny is doing very well." "Okay, okay. I'm right here. Everything is going to be fine. The maintenance guys are working on getting the doors open now. How about this, no one can hear you except me, so how about you tell me where we met before? I can't remember and you still haven't told me. I'm curious; there must be a story there. Talk to me, tell me." Taj encouraged, trying to keep Dylan talking. "You want to hear about that now? Oh, crap! Send 108

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someone up to my room. Paul is in there alone with Tony and I don't trust him to keep his hands to himself." Dylan's laughed, sounded hysterically even to him. "Okay, I'll do that." Taj chuckled. "You're stalling. Now tell me, please, I want to know. I can't imagine a time when I would've been in your presence and not been overwhelmed by you." "Taj, I can't—" "Hey, the ambulance just got here, we have two paramedics with a stretcher. You won't be in there much longer. Okay?" "It was a long time ago. We were both very young. I'd started taking vocal lessons because my Mother liked the music teacher…" Dylan said shakily, his voice laced with panic. "Dylan, they want to know if Danny is still breathing." Taj interrupted. "Yes, he's still breathing, but he is twitching really hard, kind of convulsing. It's pretty dark in here so I can't see—" Dylan fought to keep his voice from trembling. "Taj, Please, I—" "Okay, hang in there. You're going to be okay. The maintenance people are going to try to force open the door, so stay back. You're between floors, closer to the floor below than the one above. When they get the doors open, I 109

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want you to drop down to me, okay?" The screech of metal on metal as the maintenance men applied a crowbar to the elevator doors from above, heralded his rescue. The waft of fresh air, calming Dylan's frayed nerves. "Get ready now, Dylan. You'll be free soon." "Okay." "It's going to be fine. I'm right here." Another screech of protesting metal and the doors were open and secured. "Dylan." Taj called from outside the elevator "Taj?" Dylan peered hesitantly through the doors and saw Taj below him, holding his arms up. Taj grinned up at him. "Come on, lover. I've got you." Dylan slid his body over the edge and out the open doors. Taj grabbed his feet and held him steady while Dylan lowered himself down into Taj's arms. "See, I told you, you're okay," Taj whispered into his ear. "I've got you now." "Thank you." Dylan whispered.

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Chapter 7 Friday, August 7, 1998

"Mommy, I don't want to sing," Dylan complained bitterly. "There's never any other kids at your parties. There won't be anyone to play with." "This time Mommy has taken care of everything. The special friend of Mommy's I want you to sing for has a little boy for you to play with. He's a little older than you, but I'm sure you'll get along just fine. He likes music, too. I want the two of you to become friends, so be nice to him." She straightened the little bow tie and tugged on his knickers so they hung straight under his little tailed tuxedo coat. "You'll be Mommy's escort for the evening, so I need you to act like a perfect little gentleman. I know you will be just perfect for Mommy, won't you Dylan?" "Yes, Mommy." Dylan pursed his lips and took hold of his mother's hand when she led him out the door to the car. The dark made Dylan nervous. The driver opened the door and gave him a not too gentle push into the car, closing the door part way. He pushed Dylan's mommy against the side of the car, leaning down and kissing her, none too gently. 111

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"Henry, you'll make me late for my party." "Justine, why do you have to do this?" "Because, love, you don't drive him crazy enough to make him come home. I need him." Justine pushed the driver back and he opened the car for her so she could get in with her son. Most evenings he'd be going to bed, but tonight he had to sing for a bunch of stuffy adults for his mommy. She'd beam at him adoringly and he'd feel her love. The time, always too brief, and the love he felt from her was never enough to satisfy his need to be near her, but he'd sing for her, just to get her love for a moment. Times like these, when she dressed him in his 'special' clothes, were the only times she would touch him. The only time she ever praised him was when he sang. She stayed away from him most of the time. His mother didn't have time to play with him and told him outright she didn't like children. When they talked, she had no interest in what his teachers said or if he'd colored her a picture. She only wanted him around when others could listen to him sing. She would beam adoringly at him, and he'd feel loved. Dylan wanted to fall asleep in the car but struggled to stay awake. He wondered what the other boy would be like. When they arrived, the driver opened the car door. 112

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Dylan obediently got out of the car and held out his hand to his mommy like she had taught him. Dylan heard the people at the party saying things like beautiful and stunning when they talked about his mommy. He thought she was pretty and liked her long hair. Dylan did his best, trying hard not to embarrass her in front of her friends. He knew mistakes would mean punishment later, but if he was good, sometimes she would tell him he was a good boy. "Oh my, what a handsome little gentleman," Mrs Davis, a small woman with large green eyes and short chestnut brown hair, greeted them in the foyer. "I assume you're here to treat us to one of your marvelous songs. I so love hearing your son sing. He has such a beautiful voice." "Yes, it's my pleasure to bring my little angel to sing for you." Mrs Michaels inclined her head. "Wonderful. I'm sure my son Taj will enjoy playing with your son when he's finished singing. They can keep each other company during the party." Mrs Davis smiled and patted Dylan on the head. "Such lovely hair," she said, and motioned for them to precede her. Dylan looked around the room filled with adults. His mother often brought him to these parties to sing, and he recognized most of the people by sight, if not name. With a sigh, he resigned himself. At least he wouldn't be 113

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the only boy here this time. He could hardly wait to meet him. None of the other kids at school believed him when he talked about going to adult parties. They called him a liar most of the time, but this time there would be another kid like him at the party, one he could be friends with, who would understand how he felt and know he didn't lie. Dylan moved around the room with his mother. She'd long ago taught him to stay at her side every minute. The men would come and bring her drinks. She'd take their arm and they would fawn over her. Dylan would follow along behind them, trying to be invisible. Eventually Mr Davis, one of the many men who courted his mother, approached her. Dylan ignored their conversations, pretending not to hear the words whispered to her in a tone of voice that made him uncomfortable. Mr Davis led her off to a separate wing of the house, Dylan dutifully following. "Dylan, sweetie, I want you to stay here. Sit on the chair over there and don't move. Mommy will be out soon and we'll go back to the party so you can sing." Dylan went to the chair and sat down, drawing his knees up to his chin. His mother went into the room with Mr Davis. At first, there were always fun sounds. His mother would laugh and giggle, but Dylan knew what came next. He covered his ears with his hands and closed his 114

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eyes, resting his forehead on his knees. His mother began to moan, her impassioned cries easily heard through the door. When Dylan looked up, a boy stood in front of him. He didn't wear 'special' clothes like Dylan, only summer shorts and a T-shirt. He looked like any other child Dylan had ever met. He just stood there and stared at Dylan, his green eyes filled with anger and pain, while Dylan's mother's screams filled the corridor. "What?" Dylan asked the boy nervously. "She your mother?" the boy asked. "Yes." Dylan answered, standing up from the chair. He stood quite a bit smaller than the other boy. "Your mother's a whore!" the boy screamed. His face red with his anger and hurt. "Every time she comes here, my mother cries!" The boy punched Dylan in the stomach, and Dylan crumpled to the floor. The boy ran off down the hallway, with tears streaming down his face. Not the first time Dylan had been punched, but he hadn't been expecting it; the boy's reaction shocked him. He slowly stood up, sitting down in the chair and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He resumed his position with his hands over his ears. He just hoped he'd still be able to sing well enough to keep his mommy happy. He rubbed his aching stomach. The tears continued to flow unchecked while his heart ached. He'd wanted so badly to be friends 115

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with this boy, but somehow he'd failed before he'd been introduced. The cries had stopped coming from the room. He wiped his eyes and struggled to get control of himself. He took a deep breath and decided he'd just sing, do the best he could and she'd love him. He didn't need friends. His mother came out of the room, straightening her dress and running her fingers through her perfect hair. "Mommy's little guardian angel. Mommy is so happy. Will you sing for me now?" She beamed down at Dylan, who smiled back at her. The man came up behind her. Draped around her, he kissed her neck, moving her hair out of the way. "He may be your guardian angel, but you belong to me. I'm the only one who can make you scream. He surely can't." the man scoffed, licking her ear and glaring at Dylan. "You're the only man for me, but he is my angel and he sings just like one. We have to get back to the party before your wife notices." She reached out her hand. Dylan got off the chair, took her hand, and they walked down the hallway towards the party. The man didn't follow them. When they arrived in the hall, the musicians were playing and people were dancing. Dylan's mother led him 116

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to the stage. She whispered to the director, a kind man. Dylan had performed with his band before. The director helped Dylan up onto the pedestal and the room grew quiet. The band started up, and Dylan crooned, in his youthful soprano, the first of his mother's favorite love songs, "Close to You" by the Carpenters. As always, Dylan sang to her, doing his best to ignored the rest of the audience. He couldn't have cared less if they were even there. His songs were for her alone, for her love, while she preened and blushed. However, this time he felt cold inside. Everything was the same, she glowed and cooed at him. He watched her surreptitiously and the people around her, while they watched him sing and occasionally glanced admiringly at her. Usually he'd feel warm and loved while he sang for his mother, but today he couldn't feel anything. Today he really saw her behavior; he was a way for her to get attention. Nothing he did would make her care about him, this act was to make her feel special and he couldn't pretend anymore. The second song began, "The Way You Look Tonight", by Jerome Kern. For the first time the sappy old love ballads his mother always chose didn't affect him. He felt nothing. No pain, no love, no need, just a peaceful nothingness. He smiled though he felt no happiness, and glanced around the room. The audience didn't seem to 117

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realize the difference and neither did his mother. The other boy stood on the upper balcony, all alone, watching him. He wiped at his tears. Unlike Dylan, the boy felt a lot of pain and Dylan understood pain. When the song ended, he leaned over to the director and made a change to the songs his mother had given the director. She would probably be angry, but he wanted to sing a song for the boy. Something to let him know he understood. The band began and "Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton filled the hall. Dylan sang this time, not looking at his mother, but at the boy on the landing. The sad melodic tone spoke of the pain and the longing for something unreachable, of a connection made but unfulfilled. Dylan wanted to reach the boy so badly, but knew only the music might reach him. The connection he hoped to make, the friendship he longed for wouldn't happen now. He hoped maybe one day they would meet again. Maybe then— When he finished, his mother bundled him up and her driver carried him out to the car. His stomach hurt. He wondered about the boy and his pain. He didn't understand how he'd hurt him, but he wondered if the boy could forgive him. Dylan sighed, falling asleep in the car.

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Saturday, August 28, 2010

Dylan heard laughter and vaguely familiar voices. He didn't want to wake up. He felt comfortable, warm, and safe. Still, curiosity won out and had him opening his eyes and gazing up at Taj, who looked stressed and exhausted. Dylan felt Taj's hand absently stroke his hair while he lay with his head pillowed on Taj's lap. It would be so easy to let sleep claim him again, except for the stress on Taj's face. But before he could close his eyes, Taj glanced down. Dylan smiled softly up into green eyes, seeing Taj relax. Taj put a hand to his cheek in a soft caress. "Hi, did you have a nice nap?" "Yes, I guess I dozed off." "Just for a little while. You needed the rest once the adrenaline wore off." Dylan sighed and snuggled into Taj's chest, the events of the afternoon rushing back to him. He remembered fighting with Paul, Tony coming back from the cafeteria, and he remembered the elevator… "Danny freaked out in the elevator and we were stuck between floors." Dylan started to push himself forward and Taj helped him sit up, pulling him back into his chest, 119

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supporting him. "Yes." Taj kissed the top of Dylan's head. "How's Danny?" "The EMTs took him to the ER, and he's under observation. He should be released in a day or two." Dylan glanced around, recognizing his own room and all of his new friends gathered around them. Tony sat on his bunk with Justin and James. Paul was at the foot of his bed, almost at Taj's feet, watching Tony and laughing. A large bowl of chocolate candies was held above his eye level as Tony reached in to pick a piece of chocolate. "Don't tell me you guys are playing that crazy game again." Dylan asked, looking up at Taj, frowning. Dylan realized it might just be a game but he didn't want Taj kissing anyone but him. "They are. I'm staying clear. I won't risk this for any game. Besides, it's much more fun to sit here with you and watch them make asses of themselves." Dylan smiled up at him in relief. "I figured you'd like that." Taj stroked Dylan's hair. "What else do you remember?" "I vaguely remember the ambulance and being checked out, climbing the stairs to get back here. Strange, it's all kind of fuzzy, like watching it happen to someone else." 120

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"But you aren't hurting, right? Are you hungry or anything? You slept through dinner. When we got back to the room, you just curled up, holding on to me, and fell asleep." Taj sighed. His own stress seemed to be leaving now that Dylan was awake and okay. "No, I'm fine. How about you? If I held onto you, you missed dinner too. How's Ben?" Dylan smiled as Tony made a face when he popped a dark chocolate in his mouth and wrinkled his nose at the taste. "We'll have a pizza delivered later. Ben's doctor declared him a danger to himself. He isn't happy, but he voluntarily admitted himself to the hospital. He's doing better and getting the help he needs. James has permission to visit him, and the best-case scenario is that Ben should be well enough to come back by midterm. James and Ben talked things out. They realized they have a lot to talk about, but things are getting better between them." "I'm so glad. James was really broken up." "I'm not entirely sure I understand Ben, but I guess if they understand each other then everything will work out okay." "I understand him." Dylan said softly. "I hope when he comes back I get to spend more time with him. I think we could be friends." "Ah… Ok, now I don't think I want you to meet 121

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him." Taj frowned at Dylan. Dylan swatted Taj's hand and rolled his eyes. "Geez! You jealous? I think we'd understand each other. You're the only one for me." Dylan chuckled and snuggled closer to Taj's chest. "You serious, only me?" "How can I not be? You're my hero." Dylan grinned teasingly, but nuzzling into Taj's chest. "Um… did you and Paul talk?" "You mean the big asshole at the end of the bed? Yes, we talked while you were asleep. He apologized and told me he apologized to you." Taj frowned, his voice getting a bit of an edge. "He just came on a bit heavy and I dealt with it," Dylan said. "So, will you ever tell me where we met before?" Taj asked softly his hand resting up by Dylan's neck, his thumb rubbing small circles his ear. "Why does it matter? Please let it go. It's not important. Now is." "Are you sure? You know nothing you say will change this." "This might. Please, can't you just let it go? I don't want anything to change this." Dylan sighed. "When Dr Browne mentioned your name, it shocked me. I blurted out 122

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I knew you and wanted to work with you. He obviously exaggerated the case." Dylan hedged. He was sure Taj would reject him, once he put everything together. Dylan wanted things to stay like this. He wanted to stay relaxed and safe in Taj's arms, where he finally felt cared for. "A chance meeting huh? So you hadn't heard me sing." "I heard you sing for the first time at the commons, two weeks ago. You're wonderful, by the way. I'm sure I told you." Dylan reached up and laced his fingers through Taj's. "Don't change the subject—but thank you anyway." Taj nuzzled the top of Dylan's head, trying to relax him. Taj could feel Dylan getting more anxious, but couldn't understand why. "I don't understand. Why won't you tell me?" "Because I'm afraid everything will change. Taj, you do know who I am, right? You know my name?" Dylan squeezed Taj's hand. "Of course I know your name. What of it?" Taj frowned in confusion. Dylan closed his eyes, trying to hide the pain. He pulled away from Taj and turned to look him in the eyes. It was time to come clean but there were no words to explain what had happened. He understood everything now, the 123

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things he hadn't understood before. His mother and Taj's father had been having an affair. His mother had destroyed Taj's family. By forcing the issue, Taj finally took the worry and stress of wondering when everything would fall apart away. It would happen now. At least he'd have the memory of being safe in Taj's arms. For a little while, he'd been in heaven. He couldn't bring himself to talk about his mother. He realized there was one way to make Taj remember. He sat with his arms around his knees and began to hum a melody. The soft melancholy tones filled the silence which had fallen over the room, and then Dylan began to sing the same song he'd sung to a young boy on a balcony years ago: "Tears in Heaven". Dylan watched the blood drain from Taj's face. He finally saw recognition, shock, anger, and pain, reflected in Taj's eyes. Dylan knew he was opening old wounds, making Taj remember a time in both their lives neither one of them wanted to relive. The last words came out so softly nobody heard them but Taj, who sat frozen in front of him. Dylan didn't move, too afraid to utter a sound. Taj didn't move either. Dylan curled tighter into himself, waiting for the pain to begin. The stress and fear were too much to bear. Vaguely, he noticed the bed move and heard the door close. The 124

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others must have left, but he knew Taj hadn't moved from his side. Why didn't he leave or say something? What was he waiting for?

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Chapter 8 Friday, August 07, 1998

"I fed the fish," Taj told his mother, staring at his salt-water aquarium. "They really are beautiful." Elise Davis stood beside her son's bed looking down on him as he watched the fish. "You know you'll be able to bring the tank when we move to the new house." "I don't want to move. I don't want you and Dad to get a divorce." "I know. There'll be a lot of changes soon, but everything is going to be okay." Elise sounded confident, but Taj knew she cried when she thought she was alone. "Are they here yet?" Taj grumbled and tossed one of his action figures towards the toy box against the wall. "Yes. Mrs Michaels has brought her son, and I want you to be nice to him, like we talked about. He's had a very hard life and I don't want you to hurt him any more. This mess is between your dad and me." Taj's mother put a hand on her son's shoulder, forcing him to meet her eyes. "But Mom, how can you say that? She's the one… It's her fault this is happening. She's destroying our lives 126

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and taking Dad away from us. I wish she were dead. I wish they were both dead!" "Oh, my love, don't say such horrible things. Yes, Mrs Michaels is a horrible woman, but she's not the reason your dad and I are breaking up. She's more the symptom of the disease. Your father and I would be divorcing even if she didn't exist, and her son is a victim, no different than you. I'm sure he's not happy about being paraded around by her, made to sing in front of a bunch of people he doesn't know." Elise hugged her son. "He deserves our sympathy and support, not scorn and anger." "It may not be his fault, but if he thinks I'm going to be his brother, he's got another thing coming." Taj grumbled. Elise laughed and ran her fingers through her son's hair, "Sweetheart, women like his mother don't divorce and remarry. She's playing with your father and he's playing with her. Dylan will never become your brother, although you'd make a wonderful big brother for him and he'd be lucky to have you. More likely, you'll never see him again after tonight, so try not to hurt him. He's already in more pain than you've known your entire life." Elise kissed him on the head, and then left the room to return to her party. Taj couldn't imagine more pain than he felt, so he couldn't understand his mother's generosity towards the 127

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child of her cheating husband's mistress. He just wanted to hurt something, someone. Someone had to pay for his mother's pain. Mainly he wanted to hurt his father, but at this point anyone would do, and that woman's son, even though he was younger, would be the perfect choice. Taj stared at his fish, watching them swim round in their aquarium, trapped in their own little world. He felt like one of them, just as trapped in this horrible world of hurt, anger and frustration. He had no way out, no place to go, and nothing he could do to make the pain stop. He heard the band strike up downstairs and knew the party had begun, so he got up and left his room. His father always took his mistress to his own bed, the bed he used to sleep in with his wife. Taj knew he did it on purpose to hurt his mother, even though she hadn't slept with him for over a year. Taj walked down the hallway towards the master bedroom and saw him. He couldn't believe his eyes. The kid sat there, dressed up in a tuxedo. He had his knees drawn up to his chest and his face buried in his lap, his hands clutched over his ears. He sat right outside the room where his father… What did he think he was doing? Did he like hearing them? No, the louder she got, the more curled up the kid seemed to get. Taj's anger grew, standing there in the hallway, listening to his father's mistress screaming and watching 128

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her child sitting there, listening to her. Finally, not able to take any more, Taj walked over to the kid. The kid looked up and met Taj's eyes. "What?" the boy asked looking up at Taj. "She your mother?" Taj waited for him to deny it, to give him a reason not to pummel him, while the woman's screams rang louder in their ears. "Yes." the boy answered quietly and got to his feet. "Your mother's a whore!" Taj screamed at the boy, trying to force him to react with the same anger he felt. He balled up his fists defiantly, "Every time she comes here, my mother cries!" Taj punched the boy in the stomach and ran off down the hallway, tears streaming down his face. The boy had buckled at his punch. He'd put up no defense at all. Taj felt ashamed of himself when he ran back to his room, tears streaming from his eyes. The sound of his feet running down the hall mirrored the beating of his heart. Hitting that boy had to be the worst, most shameful thing he'd ever done. His mother had been right, the boy hurt even more and he'd deserved better from Taj. He just couldn't bring himself to act the way his mother wanted him to. His heart filled with anger at his father and his father's whore. He couldn't separate his feelings for the boy from those for the boy's mother. He lay on his bed and 129

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sobbed his frustration and pain into his pillow. In the background, Taj noticed the music stop. He remembered his mother saying something about the kid's mother making him sing. The sound of the music changing pulled at Taj. He got up and went out to the balcony over the dance hall, shaking his head in disbelief as the boy stood on top of a pedestal and sang love songs to his mother. The woman who'd forced him to listen to her screaming in a strange man's bed also forced him to sing love songs, as if he were her lover, not her son. Taj couldn't believe what he saw. His mouth filled with bile. The boy sang with such feeling, and yet his eyes were flat and lifeless. Then the boy leaned over to the director. He must've made a change, because when the music started the difference from the old love songs was apparent. It was a popular song that Taj recognized immediately. The boy's eyes locked with his, and he began to sing. Taj listened, stunned by the beauty of his voice. Stunned, he realized the boy knew Taj's pain. Taj had barely spoken to him, but in those few seconds each had recognized the pain in the other. And this younger boy sang to him offering compassion, something Taj had been too selfish to do. Drowning in humiliation, Taj ran down the hall and around the corner, but he couldn't bring himself to leave 130

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entirely. He had to listen to the boy sing, to the mournful tones, which continued even though he'd fled. Finally, the last chord of the music released Taj, who ran to his bedroom, closed the door, and cried until he fell asleep.

****

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Dylan sat curled in on himself. Taj sat beside him in shock. Even after Dylan had made a point of asking him again, his name hadn't registered. The woman his father had taken to his bed all those years ago, Mrs Michaels. The boy who'd sung his pain so long ago, now sat curled in on himself; still in fear and pain, after all these years. Taj had always regretted never being able to set the record straight. Now he had the chance, but he didn't know how he could. He noticed their friends leave the room, giving them the privacy they needed. He would have to thank them later. Dylan's singing brought it all back. He felt like a child all over again, powerless, and so helpless. He'd taken his pain out on Dylan. Taj couldn't believe he had thought he wanted to see the diva cry, because nothing hurt worse than seeing Dylan in pain. He swore if he could salvage this 131

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mess, he'd never cause Dylan this much pain again. Carefully, slowly he reached out for Dylan, who flinched away from his touch. Taj felt himself shrinking inside, but he couldn't let Dylan continue to hurt like this. Refusing to let Dylan pull away from him, he reached out and pulled Dylan against his chest, wrapping himself around Dylan's curled up form. "I'm so sorry." Taj whispered into Dylan's ear. "It's all my fault, please forgive me. All those years ago, you never did anything wrong and I hurt you. I've been so ashamed of myself. I wanted to apologize to you that night but by the time I got my courage up and came out of my room, you were gone." Dylan shuddered within Taj's arms. "But if my mother hadn't—if she didn't—" "No, Dylan, No, sweetheart." Taj rubbed his hand up and down Dylan's back. "But she—your father—maybe" Dylan struggled with the words, trying to get them out, his voice cracking with his pain. "Shhh. No, love, even my mom knew your mother didn't cause their divorce. You didn't deserve my anger. You didn't do anything wrong, lover." Taj nuzzled Dylan's hair, afraid to breathe, afraid Dylan might run from him. Dylan slowly relaxed, uncurling himself. He needed 132

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to look into Taj's eyes. Tears were brimming at the corners of those big green eyes, the way they had so long ago, yet they were no longer tears of rage and pain. Now, he saw only regret and sorrow. Dylan raised a shaking hand gently cupping Taj's face and shook his head, "You were in so much pain back then. I could see how much you hurt. I didn't understand then what my mom did with your dad." "You were what—barely six years old. I was eight, I knew and understood, but just barely. Please Dylan, don't—" Taj closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "I never blamed you. I always blamed my mother. I still do. She's hurt so many people, and there's no way I can ever apologize to them all. Your dad wasn't the first man, or the last. My father ignored her and made her miserable, so I guess she turned to other men for attention. She has no excuse, I know, and if you can't forgive me I'll understand." Dylan trembled in Taj's arms. Taj put his hand over the top of Dylan's and drew it to his lips. He kissed Dylan's palm and struggled to find the right words. "There's nothing to forgive. And you don't need to make excuses for her." Taj held Dylan tightly yet gently, afraid he'd shatter in his arms at any second. 133

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"Taj, let me turn around. I need to hold you too, and I can't this way." Dylan whispered softly. Taj let go so that Dylan could turn around. He wrapped his legs around Taj's waist and leaned into his embrace. Taj gently took hold of Dylan's chin and lifted it so he could kiss him. Dylan's opened so Taj's tongue could caress his lips, dancing lightly across his teeth, tasting the warm velvety touch of his lover's kiss. Their passion grew, Taj's tongue dove into the inner recesses of Dylan's mouth. When they finally parted, their kiss left Dylan panting for breath and Taj saw stars dancing before his eyes. "Don't ever be afraid of me. Don't leave, please— "Taj nibbled on Dylan's ear, his tongue caressing and tasting. Dylan shivered in his arms. "I'm yours if you want me, I could never leave you. Not now I've finally found you." Dylan sighed, resting his head against Taj's chest. The stress of the day overwhelming him, Dylan let Taj rock them both gently from side to side until unconsciousness claimed Dylan and he fell asleep in the circle of Taj's arms.

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Chapter 9 Sunday, August 29, 2010

Dylan heard his alarm clock going off and sighed. He had been having the most wonderful dream. He had finally come clean to Taj and somehow Taj had found the ability to forgive him, and they were happy. He felt so peaceful, the dream made everything all right and Dylan didn't want to wake up. "If you don't turn the blasted alarm off, I'm going to throw it across the room." Taj growled sleepily. Dylan's eyes flew open; he found himself snuggled in Taj's arms. Everything came rushing back. It wasn't a dream! Everything had happened. The alarm clock continued to blare. He absentmindedly reached overhead and swatted it, turning the alarm off. He had no schedule today. They were both free to spend the day however they wanted. Dylan looked at Taj who sighed, eyes closed. He shifted his shoulders a bit, pulling Dylan in closer, rubbing a kiss into Dylan's hair. "What happened? The last thing I remember—we were kissing." Dylan asked quietly. "Shh, you'll wake Tony." Taj whispered. "Sleep 135

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now. Talk later." "Tony is already awake and trying to go back to sleep." Tony mumbled from across the room. Taj chuckled softly, refusing to let Dylan go. Dylan frowned, trying to remember what happened, but came up blank, realizing they must have fallen asleep. "We fell asleep—" "Again, Tony is awake and trying to sleep. Please, I can't deal with the snuggly lovey crap so early and it isn't safe trying to sleep in the same room with Paul." Tony groaned, rolling over and dragging his covers over his head. "Sorry, Tony." Dylan grinned and thought, I can hardly believe it. We're going to be okay. He snuggled himself into Taj's chest, the touch of his cheek against the bare skin of Taj's chest felt better than any pillow. He drifted off to sleep. Hours later, having taken advantage of the luxury of sleeping in, Dylan awoke with his head resting on Taj's chest. He felt the gentle rise and fall of Taj's breathing, and listened, content, to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A finer music he had never heard. Dylan smiled. He couldn't believe how wonderful he felt. He could stay like this forever. "Morning," Taj whispered, and kissed Dylan on top 136

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of the head. Dylan looked up into Taj's green eyes, so beautiful and deep Dylan could see eternity in them. He couldn't identify all the emotions he saw, but he recognized hunger and desire. His mind raced with things he wanted to do with and to Taj, his heartbeat quickening with his thoughts, his eyes wandered over Taj's body. As they gazed into each other's eyes, Tony stirred in his bed. Tony seemed to be accepting but Dylan didn't want an audience. He wanted privacy. He clamped a quick lid on his imagination, starting to blush, his morning wood twitching between them. Then he glanced over at Tony and sighed. "You're going to have to tell me what just went through your mind. The expression on your face is priceless." Taj whispered his voice husky, strained, sending chills of desire down Dylan's spine. "It's just if we stay like this much longer, Tony's gonna get a show, whether he wants one or not." Dylan leaned into Taj and brushed a light kiss across his lips, a playful grin on his face. "I need a shower. You coming?" "Sounds wonderful, although I don't think we'll have any more privacy there." "Shut up." Dylan started to get up, but Taj pulled him back into his arms, kissed him deeply then, sighing, 137

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mechanically pushed him into a sitting position away from him. "Sorry. Okay, I see what you mean. You head for the shower. I'm going to my room to get my stuff so I can get cleaned up too." Taj sighed again. Smiling, Dylan went to his closet while Taj sat up in bed, watching him move quietly around the room. Finally, with towel in hand, Dylan grabbed his basket of toiletries and returned to the bed. He put a hand to the back of Taj's neck and bent down for a kiss, then headed out the door to the showers. Taj grabbed at his jeans. "Too cute, he's too goddamn cute. He's gonna kill me." Taj got up, adjusted his raging erection, made Dylan's bed, and then headed back to his room. He opened the door to see Paul looking in the mirror, combing his hair and fussing about his appearance. First, he held up first a chain with a silver eagle against himself, then one with a howling wolf's head, frowning with indecision. "Good morning. How are the lovebirds this morning?" Paul taunted Taj knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows. "We're good. I can't remember ever being this happy. Paul, he fills a place in my heart I didn't know I had." Taj had never been a sappy romantic but one thought 138

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of Dylan and he became a complete sap, grinning like a fool. He walked over to his bed, finally dropping to sit on the edge. His soul filled with a joy he had never felt before. "I'm happy for you. I really wanted him for myself, but—ah—I've my eye on another little bird. The hunt can be sooo sweet. Seriously though, when we left yesterday, I really thought things were going to be bad. Honey Bear's voice is so sweet and he—well, both of you were—" Paul frowned, looking at Taj. "Let's just say, I definitely know where we met before and saying it was a rough time in my life and his doesn't even begin to cover it." "But you're both okay now?" Paul looked a little closer at Taj. "Yeah, we're better than okay. I can't even begin to tell you how good things are. I know there's stuff we still need to talk about, but things are—better than great. Do you know—I'm even afraid to admit this to myself, but I think I'm falling for him. I mean, I know I like him, but I really think we could be good together—long term." Taj got to his feet and began gathering his shower things. "It's not strange, I guess. I mean, I've been in love before. Had crushes on guys before. But I can't say I've ever found 'the one'. Doesn't mean he doesn't exist, somewhere." Paul turned back to the mirror, critically eyed 139

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his outfit and then changed his belt from leather to a silver chain with a metal hook clasp. He picked up the silver necklaces again and tried to decide between them. Deciding on the silver wolf's head choker, he secured the clasp and grabbed a large watch with three silver chains for the band. Taj started for the door and the showers when Paul stopped him, "What do you think?" Paul turned to Taj, arms out to his sides. "You look faaabulous, dahl-ling!" Taj teased, fluttering a hand in the air at his throat and grinning, but Paul frowned and turned back to the mirror, clearly still frustrated and undecided. "Why so concerned? You're the fashion police, after all. You set the style." "I'm trying to catch the eye of my new little bird. After you and Dylan had your issue and the rest of us left, we came back here. But we couldn't shake the solemn mood, so we ended up just hanging out for a couple hours, watching an old action DVD. I can't even remember what we watched. I didn't hardly get the chance to talk to him. I sat next to him and tried to attract his attention, but I don't think he knows I exist." Paul shoved the drawer closed and stared critically at his reflection. "If he has even a gay bone in his body, he'll notice you. You're one of a kind and impossible to miss. Relax Paul." 140

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"Please, take us with you guys today!" begged Paul. "I'm sure you have something romantic in mind to do with Dylan. Take us along. I need a more romantic atmosphere than Justin and his girl, and James moping about missing Ben." "No! Absolutely not! Didn't I just say we were looking forward to having the time to ourselves?" "Please! Please!" "No! We need to spend time together, just the two of us. Besides our first stop is the clinic. Responsible gay adult here, you know." "Please! I swear we won't be a problem, at least for a little while. You can go to the clinic and meet up with us at the mall or the movies, something." Paul got down on his knees in front of the door, preventing Taj from leaving and begging at the same time. "Ugh! Fine! Come to breakfast with us. But today is for us, Dylan and me. Am I clear? Don't be following us around, we need some alone time." Taj stepped over Paul, still on his knees by the door, before he could drag Taj into something else. "Crystal. Thanks!" Paul grinned, rubbing his hands together as the door closed. Taj walked into the bathroom attached to the changing room and the shower. There were no private 141

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showers on this floor; in all-male dorm private showers were a luxury to be had only on some floors. He saw Dylan's things on one of the benches in the changing area with his bathrobe lying alongside. Taj set his basket next to Dylan's and smiled. He laid his bathrobe beside his basket and took off his clothes. Hanging his towel on the hook next to Dylan's, he took a deep breath and walked in. Dylan stood in the shower along the wall to the right, his back to the spray, soaking in the hot water, the steam billowing around him, blurring the edges between body and water. His head tipped back towards the ceiling as his back arched, the spray from the shower pounding against him. The room had a touch of the surreal even in its white-walled utilitarian sterility. Dylan's ethereal masculine beauty took Taj breath away. "Wow—" Taj whispered, waves of desire flooded his body. He stood awed at the edge of the steam, afraid to enter lest the vision before his eyes disappear. Dylan looked towards the door and saw Taj standing with his jaw on the floor, staring at him. Dylan smiled and raised a hand out towards Taj, beckoning. Taj moved to Dylan's side, taking his hand and pulling him into his embrace. The touch of Taj's cool skin against Dylan's hot flushed skin sent goose bumps all over their bodies. Dylan clung to Taj, the shivers flowing 142

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through his body, sending a matching wave undulating through Taj. Their lips brushed gently. Taj nibbled first on Dylan's lower lip, then the upper. He traced the outline of Dylan's mouth with his tongue in a slow, sensual caress. Dylan moaned slightly, his mouth dropping open at the slightest touch of Taj's tongue as it delved deeply into his mouth to taste the roof and hot velvet interior, entwining with Dylan's. Unable to control himself, Taj's hands wandered over Dylan's body, feeling the silky smooth texture of his creamy skin. Taj nibbled Dylan's neck and shoulder, one hand dropping to his chest to tease a reddening nipple while the other slipped between their bodies to palm Dylan's hardening cock. "I want—We can't do this here." Dylan panted, moaning softly when their kiss broke apart. He leaned heavily into Taj's body, trying to still his lover's roaming hands by trapping them between their bodies. Dylan closed his eyes, struggling to stand on quaking legs which threatened to buckle beneath him. He clung to Taj, swaying on his feet and forcing himself to stay upright through will alone. Taj's mouth sought Dylan's, smothering his moans. Taj wanted Dylan mindless with desire, he wanted to see the passion and have him begging for release. Feeling Dylan weaken and waver, Taj pressed him back against the 143

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shower wall, holding him upright with the weight of his body. Dylan's whimpers echoed about the large empty room. "I'm sorry—this isn't right. I don't want our first time to be like this. You deserve better, lover." Taj whispered, holding Dylan tightly to him. He swept Dylan off his feet and carried him from the shower to the changing area. Draping Dylan in his towel, Taj rubbed him dry then wrapped him in his bathrobe. "Taj," Dylan whispered, his voice full of unfulfilled desire. "We can't do this here. I want our first time together to be perfect. This isn't perfect, this is lust and I want so much more for you, for us." Taj quickly dried off and knelt in front of Dylan, pressing against him until they both had control of the raging passion threatening to overwhelm them. "Okay, I'm sorry. I—" Dylan buried his face in Taj's shoulder, struggling to control his desire. "You've got to know how much I want you, but this isn't how I want to you know how much I care. You deserve so much more than a quick fuck in a public shower room. I want you to look back on our first time and feel loved every minute. I can wait. For you, I want to wait." Taj spoke slowly, gently, concentrating on running his 144

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fingers through Dylan's hair soothingly. "I want you so much, Taj. I don't care where we are." Dylan whispered, pressing himself into Taj's body. The desire to become one, connected in body and heart filling him. Taj groaned, feeling Dylan's erection rub against his, panting to control the overwhelming urge to hump against his lover's body. "I know you don't, which is part of the reason I want to make this special. You want me enough to allow me to have you, even in a place like this. I want to treasure you. I won't disappoint you by belittling your gift when you deserve so much better." Through force of will alone, Taj gathered their things and, with a last stolen kiss, the two left the showers, going to their rooms to get dressed. Both of them aching painfully with the desire for more. Dylan

returned

to his

room

to

find Paul

manhandling a less-than-cooperative Tony towards the shower room. Tony stumbled about with his eyes halfclosed and a gym bag in his arms. Paul energetically pushed him out the door, snickering at Tony's half-formed vocal grunts of complaint. "Morning, Honey Bear!" Paul grinned at Dylan. "You're looking remarkably happy this morning." "Don't call him that, you big queen," grumbled 145

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Tony, half-heartedly swatting Paul upside the back of his head. Dylan laughed. "Morning. I am actually. Sorry, Tony. I hope we didn't bother you last night." Dylan blushed with embarrassment, but his apology was lost on the barely conscious Tony, who stood zombie-like, swaying from foot to foot in the hallway. "You were both asleep by the time I came in. No harm… no foul." Tony mumbled. "This queen sure is aggressive, isn't he? But he's kind of cute too." "Come on, my Adonis, to the showers with you, so you can tell me again when you're awake." Paul pushed the half-conscious Tony towards the showers and winked wickedly at Dylan. Dylan rolled his eyes and went back to his room, dressing with care. He started with clean jeans and a red tank top, then put a black mesh muscle shirt over the top and tucked them both into his skintight jeans, adding a black belt and his leather braided golden tiger's-eye choker. He was running a comb through his hair when he heard a disgruntled scream come from the direction of the washroom. A few minutes later, Paul walked in the door with a satisfied look on his face, a red mark on his jaw. "He punched me." Paul practically giggled, rubbing his jaw affectionately. 146

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"What did you do?" Dylan couldn't help grinning and shaking his head while he fought to get the comb through the snarls in his long hair. "Turned on the cold water and gave him a push. When he screamed and jumped back into my arms, he looked so cute I couldn't resist. I kissed him." Paul's eyes were dreamily unfocused, a hand on his lips. He sat down on Tony's bunk and picked up his pillow, inhaling deeply, and then lay back on the bunk with his knees bent and his legs crossed. He picked up one of Tony's books, totally relaxed and self-satisfied. "You're a glutton for punishment. Tony is gonna beat you to a pulp, if you keep this up." Dylan laughed. "I could probably get into that…" Paul mumbled to himself. Taj walked in the door and grabbed Dylan. He pulled the younger man down on the bed to sit between his knees in front of him. Taj took the comb from Dylan's hand, pulling his hair to one side and nuzzling his neck. "You smell nice," he mumbled, kissing the nape of Dylan's neck. "You're all lovey dovey." Paul watched the couple, still rubbing his jaw. "Yeah. Got a problem with it… leave." Taj began to run the comb through Dylan's hair. 147

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"Nope, no problem here. Just starvation, but things are looking brighter." "Yep, they sure are. It's not even 10:00 am and he's already slugged you once. Looks like he's got good taste," Taj teased. Dylan snickered, pushed Taj's hands away, and began to divide his hair into three sections so he could braid his hair. "Let me," Taj whispered into Dylan's ear, his hot breath sending shivers through Dylan's body. He took the three plaits from Dylan's fingers and braided his hair. "I like your hair braided, it gives me access to your beautiful neck." Taj kissed and sucked at Dylan's neck until the skin beneath his lips showed a red mark, darkening steadily. "Stop it!" Dylan protested. "I am hungry for food too, you know. Breakfast is calling my name, I think something substantial is needed to keep up our strength." Dylan cupped Taj's face in his hand, kissing him hungrily while his stomach growled a protest. Taj drew Dylan's hand to his mouth, nibbling at his fingers with his teeth, his tongue caressing their length, watching Dylan shiver. Tony suddenly pushed through the door, glaring at Paul all laid out on his bed. He gave Paul a look which would've withered a less confident man, but simply served to encourage Paul. 148

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"Get! Out!" Tony growled at Paul. "Aw, I'm sorry, my Adonis—" Paul began. Tony stood over him pointing at the door. "I mean now! Out!" Tony's scowl allowed for no argument, so Paul clambered off the bed and headed for the door with Tony on his heels. "But, Tony, I was only playing," Paul whined. "Learn some manners." Tony slammed the door in Paul's face then went back to his desk. He continued to scowl as he grabbed his comb, forcing it through his hair then dressing quickly. "So, what's the plan?" Tony asked, looking at Taj, who gazed into Dylan's deep brown eyes. "Hmmm… first breakfast, then Dylan and I have few errands to run. We want to go to the central library and maybe the marina for lunch… the rest is a surprise." Taj secured the braid he still held in his hand with the leather tie Dylan handed him. He leaned in, kissing Dylan's neck, biting him sharply on the hickey he had started. "Ow!… Ow!… Ow!" Dylan complained, swatting at Taj's mouth, putting the other hand to his neck. He frowned up at Taj who was grinning devilishly. Dylan put a hand to the bite, hissing between his teeth, "What did you do that for?" "I'm starving. You look and smell so good I had to 149

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sample you. I decided you're definitely good enough to eat." Taj pulled Dylan's hand away and kissed Dylan's bruised neck, licking and sucking at his bite mark. He had left a mark that would steadily darken into a hickey with his continued attention; Taj would do everything he could to make clear that Dylan belonged to him. "Stop it, you animal! Breakfast is in the cafeteria." Dylan pulled out of Taj's arms and stood up, but reached back, taking Taj's hand and pulling him to his feet. "You ready to go? Sorry to rush you, but I gotta feed him or people will think vampires are real." "I'm ready," Tony said. He opened the door to find Paul sitting on the floor outside the door. He glared at Paul but said nothing when they headed for the elevator. Dylan froze in front of the elevator doors but took a deep breath and, with a shake of his head, got on with the others. "It's okay," Taj whispered. "The elevator has a clean bill of health. They had everything in working order within an hour." Feeling reassured, Dylan followed along, getting on the elevator and in easy camaraderie to the cafeteria. Sitting down at large table, the four of them ate heartily, especially Taj and Dylan, who had missed dinner. They were just about ready to leave when two girls bounded up to the edge of the table, gazing at Taj and giggling. 150

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"Hi Taj, long time no see. You still Dr Browne's assistant this year?" asked the slim, blue-eyed blonde. "Hi, Brenda. Yes. Are you in the choir this year? I thought you'd be done. After all, you put in your required term last year." "Well, if you're still singing lead, I'd consider adding choir to my class load. You make music fun." Brenda flirted, her friend continuing to giggle inanely. "This is Trisha. She's a freshman this year and she'll be in the choir. She graduated from my high school last spring. She's a strong soprano." "Oh, well, nice to meet you, Trisha. The choir can always use new voices. But if Trisha's a freshman, shouldn't you two be headed for orientation?" Dylan watched Taj closely, and saw him smile the ready smile he shared with everyone. The longer the girls stood there giggling and flirting the more disinterested he appeared. Dylan couldn't help becoming irritated. He wanted the girls to leave them alone. Taj belonged to him. Dylan glared at the two babbling girls and his ire increased, but they ignored him. Their incessant drivel rubbed Dylan's nerves raw. Taj chatted politely for a while, but seemed to sense Dylan's growing discomfort and soon tried to end the conversation. "I'll meet you outside. I need to use the restroom," 151

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Dylan snapped irritably, rising from the table, stalking off with his tray in hand towards the door. "Wait, I'll come with you." Taj rose, trying to follow, but the girls stood in his way. "Who's

he?

Man

what

a

grump."

Brenda

complained. "So how about we get together and—" "He's my lover," Taj growled, and left them gaping as he took off after Dylan. Dylan made his escape across the cafeteria, leaving Taj behind to talk to the girls. He frowned angrily at the bathroom door just outside the cafeteria, debating heading for the dorm instead. He couldn't sit silently, watching those girls flirt with Taj. The longer he watched, the angrier he'd become. He wanted to scream at them, claim Taj so they would leave him alone. He had to get away before he did something and embarrassed them both. But his fury still rose. He couldn't get the image out of his mind. He felt so stupid. Of course, he couldn't keep Taj from talking to everyone. He understood how crazy and illogical he was being to want to monopolize someone completely. Dylan slammed the door open, stalking into the bathroom, and glancing at his reflection in the mirror. Taj didn't do anything wrong. He just smiled at them, no differently than anyone else. Taj didn't look at them the 152

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way he looked at Dylan. Taj had no interest in the girls or what they were saying. Yet they were girls, and they flirted so easily. No one thought anything of them flirting openly with guys in public. Intense jealousy washed over Dylan; he threw open a bathroom stall, slamming and latching the door behind him. He fell to his knees beside the toilet, and vomited. Taj came rushing into the bathroom just in time to hear Dylan lose his breakfast. Trying to push his way in, he rattled the door. "Dylan! What's wrong?" Taj listened to Dylan, struggling to catch his breath while he lost the contents of his stomach. "I'll be ok. Really… something I ate didn't agree with me." Dylan lied. Nausea hit him in another wave, the heaves wracking his straining body. "Dylan, let me in." Taj placed a hand on the door but could only listen to Dylan gasp and heave. "No. I can take care of this. I'll be okay. It's gross. I'll come out when I'm done." Dylan voice shook, the heaves beginning to subside. Sharp and painful, his chest hurt so much so he couldn't breathe. He wanted to keep Taj to himself. He didn't want to share him with others, especially not those idiotic girls. It might be selfish and unreasonable, but he couldn't stand the way those girls flirted with Taj. Taj belonged to him! He wouldn't share 153

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him. "Dylan, please, let me in." Dylan didn't answer, fighting with himself. How stupid, Taj wanted him and he was right there on the other side of the door. He'd come after Dylan, he hadn't stayed with the girls. "Please, Taj. I just need a minute here," Dylan begged softly, struggling to get a grip on his emotions. "I'm not going anywhere. If you don't want my help, fine, but I'm not leaving while you're hanging your head in a toilet." Taj placed a hand against the door. "Talk to me, Dylan," Taj pleaded. "Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours. What did I do?" Dylan got to his feet and opened the door, stepping out to stand in front of the mirror and sink. He rinsed his mouth out and took the paper towel from Taj's hand. "You didn't do anything." Dylan shook his head, staring at his reflection. A hysterical laugh broke loose at the absurdity. "I'm so stupid. I can't believe—" Taj took Dylan's hand and put a hand to his chin, forcing Dylan to meet his gaze. "I don't care how stupid you feel. If you are this upset… to make you sick. Just tell me." "It's just… It hit me all of a sudden. I realized— when you were talking to those stupid girls—they were 154

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flirting with you so freely. I got so mad. I wanted them to stop. I wanted you to ignore them or something, I don't know. I wanted so badly to just take you away from them." Dylan's head throbbed. "I was so jealous. I know how stupid I sound, I mean, really stupid." Dylan trembled violently. "How do I tell you, explain I how scared I felt realizing you might leave me some day. I don't think I could live through something like that, and I know how petty, emotionally manipulative, and juvenile that sounds." He could feel his stomach knotting up again, threatening to heave. He struggled to control himself. "Oh No! What in the wor—Of all the stu—Idiotic! For god sake!" Taj stuttered in disbelief, not able to get out a complete sentence. "You literally got sick because you were jealous and thought I might leave? You damned wonderful little idiot!" He pulled Dylan close. "I don't know whether to kiss you or kick you!" Dylan

swallowed

hard,

flushing

red

with

embarrassment. "Those girls were all flirty. I know they were hitting on you, trying to get your attention. At first, I got angry. They're so obvious, and they could flirt so openly, and nobody would think twice about them because it's 'natural' for girls to flirt with guys." "Dylan, sweetheart, I'm gay. I know you haven't had long to think about being gay, but I have. No matter what 155

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happens between us, I won't be doing anything with any woman. I have absolutely no desire for women, never have. You're the only one I care about. You're the only one I want. There's no one else. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to girls." "I guess I understand, I do. I told you—stupid. I feel like a complete idiot and I do know better. I got so swept away, the feeling shocked me." Dylan shrugged miserably. "But, I mean, we're two guys. I guess I'm just insecure about the whole thing." "Dylan, if you want to flirt with me in public, lover, I'd think I died and went to heaven. I would be very happy and I think it's very natural to flirt with the one you want, no matter where you are." Taj let his head fall forward so his forehead rested against Dylan's and sighed. "Really, you wouldn't mind? I know I complain about you flirting with me in public, but it isn't because you're a guy. I'm not used to affection in private, much less in public. Even though I complain, I really love it when you kiss me." Taj stroked Dylan's hair. "I love kissing you too, lover." "Taj, what about family? I mean, I feel like, by being with me I'm going to be keeping you from having a family of your own. It's not like I can give you kids." 156

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"Being gay doesn't mean definitely no family. I haven't really thought about whether I want children. I don't know, maybe someday I'll want to adopt or something. But—there'll never be a woman in my life, not going to happen." "I guess I just hadn't thought about what you might want and we never really talked about it. I've never wanted to be with someone like this, Taj. I've never thought about spending the rest of my life with someone." "I haven't either, but I'm not going anywhere." Taj smiled and looked deeply into Dylan's eyes. "You do realize the same applies to you, more than me, right? I've always known I was gay. You'd never considered a male lover. You could choose to leave me for a girl, or even for a different guy." Taj's self-conscious chuckle showed a bit of his nervousness. "Whenever Paul calls you 'Honey Bear' I want to rip him apart, I get so jealous." "I'd never do that, especially for Paul. I've wanted to be with you since we were both little. Even when you were standing so angry in front of me, my heart said 'He's so strong, fearless. I want to be his friend'. I wanted to be part of your life, even then. I'd never hold you back though, if you wanted someone else." Dylan gazed steadily into Taj's eyes. Taj kissed the top of Dylan's head, smiled softly and 157

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shook his head. "Okay, so neither of us has any intention of being with anyone else. So can you trust me, believe I care about you, and trust I won't lie to you? You're the only one I want." "I can." Dylan looked up into Taj's eyes. He took hold of Taj's face and pressed against his, sighing. "I want to kiss you but my mouth is nasty." "I had plans for today, but—" Taj shook his head in frustration. "I want us to be together. I want to show you how I feel. I need to make love to you." Taj moaned softly, lacing his fingers through Dylan's, and held his hand between their hearts. "I want to be with you, too. Part of me wants to just crawl inside of you and become part of you." "I care about you and us. I don't want to take short cuts." Taj grimaced, he wanted nothing more than to lay Dylan out on a flat surface and fuck him into next week. "Taj, please. I need you." "How about we go to the clinic today, get tested? Skip out on Paul and Tony. We can go somewhere we can be alone. We don't have to do anything you aren't ready for. Then later, when the results come in, nothing can stop us." Taj rubbed slow circles with his thumb against Dylan's chest. "Okay." Dylan smiled. Together, they went out the 158

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bathroom door, to where Paul and Tony waited outside, making sure they had the privacy they needed. "Sorry, guys. Thanks for making sure we had some time alone. Um… we're going to take off now. We'll see you later, maybe." Taj grinned then, without waiting for a response, he pulled Dylan out of the cafeteria, towards the back of the dorm parking lot and a car covered by a tarpaulin. Taking hold of the edge, he uncovered his car: a black 1969 Corvette Stingray, finished in a spotless black lacquer that reflected everything like a mirror. "Wow! Beautiful!" Dylan exclaimed. Taj popped the trunk and stashed the tarp. "You like? I've restored her myself." Taj unlocked the car so Dylan could get in. Once in the car, behind the black tinted windows, Taj pulled Dylan into his embrace, kissing him passionately, his tongue caressing the roof of Dylan's mouth, tasting and teasing, their tongues dancing back and forth. "Sorry, couldn't wait." He kissed Dylan's hand and placed it on his thigh then turned the engine over, which roared to life. "I'm glad." Dylan said. Blushing, he fastened his seat belt. Taj reached over his shoulder, fastened his seatbelt. With one hand on the wheel, the other on the stick shift, he 159

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eased the car smoothly forward and out of the lot, onto the road. "It's really a beautiful machine." Dylan said. The car purred down the road like a sleek ebony panther. "Thanks." Taj grasped Dylan's hand, kissing his fingers while he drove through the streets. "I've been working on her since high school. There are a few more things I want to do, but overall I think she's complete." Taj continued kissing and sucking on Dylan's fingertips, sending shivers through Dylan's body in response. "Um, Taj, this is so not helping." Dylan moaned slightly. Taj pulled the car into the parking lot of the free clinic. "Sure it is. Now you know how much I want you, too. But we need to do this, first." Taj unbuckled his seatbelt, kissed Dylan softly, and squeezed his hand. He got out and waited for Dylan to join him so they could enter the clinic together. Half an hour later, both of them sporting bandages at their elbows where blood had been drawn, they got back in the car. "Hungry?" Taj asked, smiling at Dylan, who, lost in his thoughts, had been staring out the window. "Um, sure. But please, let's not go back to the cafeteria. I could really go for something with taste. Oh, and please—no pizza." 160

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Taj laughed and pulled into Applebee's. "Come on. I love the ribs here." Once inside they were led to a booth towards the back of the restaurant and gave the hostess their drink orders. "You know, I'm really embarrassed about breakfast, but I can't say I'm sorry. There are so many things to talk about, and I really have no idea what I'm doing most of the time." Dylan met Taj's gaze. "Just keep talking to me. Even when you feel dumb, there won't be anything we can't deal with." Taj smiled. The waitress arrived with their drinks and took their order. An uncomfortable silence fell when she left. "What are you thinking?" Dylan asked, playing with the straw on his soda. "I'm wondering if you, even now, realize how much I want you. You know, you do an awful lot of worrying about me leaving you. I don't think you have anything to worry about there." "Taj—" "I think you see me as really confident. I'm not, you know. I'm used to dating guys who know what I'm all about. Who know they're gay. Then you sweep in and steal my heart. I'm scrambling just to keep up here while being terrified you'll come to your senses and reject me." Taj frowned slightly. The waitress interrupting again, bringing 161

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their order and leaving. "I'm sorry, Taj" Dylan said looking at his plate. "I didn't mean to push this all on you." "You haven't pushed anything, Dylan. I'm just trying to tell you, show you I feel just as overwhelmed and insecure. I'm happy. I wouldn't change a thing." "Really, you're happy?" Dylan asked, picking up his utensils and cutting into his steak. "Yes, sweetheart. I really am very happy. When I look at you, when we spend time together, I'm happy. This morning, waking up with you in my arms, it was wonderful. The best morning I've had in a long time." Taj picked up a rib and bit into it. "I liked it a lot. I felt so safe." Dylan flushed red. "It would've been better if we'd been alone, but you can't have everything."

****

Taj turned to look at Dylan who stood nervously over his shoulder while he unlocked the door to the motel room. "Are you sure you are okay with this? You know we don't have to—" "No, I want to. I'm just nervous, I guess." Dylan smiled up at Taj, then glanced down the empty hallway. Taj 162

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unlocked the door and reached back for Dylan's hand. They went into the small motel room, Taj closed the door and put on the security chain. "Come here, sweetheart. Let me hold you." Taj led Dylan to the bed and sat down, pulling Dylan with him. "Is this going to hurt, Taj?" Dylan turned his face into Taj's chest, refusing to meet his eyes. "Yes, a bit. If we go all the way. But we don't have to go all the way. All I want, really need, is to be alone with you. No roommates walking in. No responsibilities calling me away from you. Yes, I do want to make love to you, but I'd be happy with just sitting here like this and doing nothing more—well, maybe some kissing." Taj gently kissed the tip of Dylan's nose then went in for a slow sensuous kiss. He tasted Dylan's lips, brushing his tongue along the crease where his lips joined, asking for admittance. Dylan immediately opened for him and with a groan slipped his tongue inside to savor the warm heady flavor, the essence of Dylan. Dylan sighed "Taj," and wove his fingers into Dylan's thick chestnut hair. "Dylan, tell me you want this. I need to hear you say you want me." Taj pleaded. Running his hand alongside Dylan's cheek and down Dylan's neck to the hollow of his collarbone. 163

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"I—I want to be here. I want to touch you. I just don't know if I can. I mean, I don't know if… I want to please you but," Dylan hesitated, staring into Taj's eyes begging him to understand. "It isn't… I want you so badly Taj. I do. I just don't know how—if I can do—that." "Shhh, sweetheart. I get it, I know all I need to. I understand." Taj smiled down at Dylan and ran his hand along Dylan's arm, going back in for another breathstealing kiss. Taj's kisses fell softly on Dylan's lips, along his jaw, then up to suck gently on his earlobe. Taj smiled at discovering Dylan's ears were a hot spot when a groan escaped Dylan's lips. Taj grasped the hem of Dylan's Tshirt and pulled it slowly off over his head, giving Dylan plenty of time to stop him if he chose. When Dylan didn't stop him, Taj took off his own shirt, tossing both to the floor. Dylan's eyes grew big. He drank in the sight of Taj's bare chest and tight abs, his fingers sliding from Taj's shoulders down, along his pectoral muscles, to lightly caress the hardened nipples, his touch eliciting a gasp from Taj at his tentative and hesitant explorations. "God, yes, Dylan," Taj groaned. "I love when you touch me." Taj knew his response had emboldened Dylan because his fingers had latched onto his nipples briefly 164

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before trailing farther down his chest to trace the muscles of his abs. Taking Dylan's hand, Taj scooted back on the bed, pulling Dylan with him until they were both stretched out. Taj stared into Dylan's eyes while he ran his fingertips along Dylan's arm to his shoulder and then down across Dylan's chest to tweak a pert nipple, watching the pleasure wash over Dylan's face. "You're so beautiful." Taj whispered, leaning in and kissing Dylan, nipping at his bottom lip. Taj's fingers caressed the skin below the waistband of Dylan's jeans. Taj felt Dylan buck up towards his hands. He popped open the button to Dylan's jeans and slowly eased the zipper down, then reached into Dylan's jeans and palmed the hard cock covered by his cotton underwear. Dylan groaned and rested his forehead on Taj's chest. Taj kissed the top of Dylan's head, his hand pushing past the underwear to grasp the rock hard cock. "Dylan, can you take off your pants?" Taj gently palmed Dylan's cock. "I want more of you." "Oh, yes," Dylan sighed and then, squirming, kicked off his shoes. He grasped his pants and underwear, stripping them off and kicking them to the floor. Taj did the same to his own shoes and pants. Dylan's eyes latched onto Taj's hard rod and a small whimper escaped his lips. With trembling hands, he reached for Taj. He stopped short of 165

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actually touching him, glancing up he was stunned, frozen in Taj's lust filled gaze. "Please, Dylan." He took Dylan's hand and guided it the rest of the way to his engorged member, a hiss escaping his lips when Dylan's hand closed around him and sent a rush of pleasure through his body. "Oh god, Dylan, yes." Taj struggled to control himself. He felt like he could burst from those tentative first strokes alone. He grasped Dylan's length and mirrored every move Dylan made. Dylan's strokes became erratic, his hips began to thrust into Taj's hand. Taj scooted closer and brought their cocks together, rubbing off against each Dylan and into their hands. "I can't… god, I'm gonna…" Dylan panted. "Then come." "Taj!" Dylan screamed. Seconds later, his back arched, throwing his hips into Taj's hands, his spunk shooting in spurts to cover Taj's hands and stomach. Taj continued to stroke their cocks until he came with a shout, his essence mixing with Dylan's on their stomachs and hands. Taj continued milking their erections until they had both gone soft. They leaned into each other, Taj whispering sweet nothings to Dylan as he closed his eyes in postclimax bliss. Taj pulled himself from the bed and went to the 166

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bathroom, washing his hands and cleaning himself, then got wet a warm washcloth and cleaned up Dylan, whose eyes were closed, a smile of complete relaxation on his face. Taj shifted his lover on the bed, pulled the bedspread from beneath him, then eased the sheet and blanket over him. He crawled in beside Dylan, spooning against his body and kissing him softly on the neck, snuggling close for a nap.

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Chapter 10 Monday August 30, 2010

Taj couldn't believe it when he awoke with Dylan in his arms, it felt absolutely wonderful, so right. These last couple of weeks felt too short, he wasn't ready to share his newfound lover, but knew they had to get up and get ready for class. Orientation had flown by and he'd enjoyed each stolen moment with Dylan. He loved how they were getting closer all the time and were practically inseparable. To their fortune, Paul and Tony also seemed to be forging a relationship as well, albeit a unique one—Tony becoming the master of Paul, his unrepentant pet. But it made for peaceful nights in each other's arms in the relative privacy of the paper thin walls of the dorm. "What's first, lover?" Taj whispered into Dylan's hair, turning off the alarm, which was about to begin blaring over his head. "Algebra I then English Lit this morning, Bio I and Sociology this afternoon." "I've got Micro Bio this afternoon, so I'll be in the science building after lunch, too. We can have lunch and walk over to the science building together. I'll be in the 168

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music department all morning, though." Taj nuzzled Dylan's cheek. "Well, at least I'll get to see you for lunch. I don't have choir until tomorrow." "I have practice with the two performance octets after dinner tonight. You going to come and watch us practice?" "Just try and stop me." Dylan pushed up and grinned down into Taj's eyes. "Two weeks is going to kill me." Taj growled, kissing Dylan and then pushing him up out of bed. "You keep this up and I'm never going to make it 'til those test results come in." "Thank god there are other things I can do to you until they come in." Dylan giggled and grabbed his basket of shower things, kissed Taj, then made a dash for the door. And when those results came in, he'd make it so special, Dylan would never question how he felt, ever again. Taj shook his head in wonder at the intense feeling, the love which filled his heart.

****

Friday, September 10, 2010

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The morning their results were due to come in, Dylan

could

barely

contain

himself.

He

couldn't

concentrate. Thoughts of Taj completely distracted him. He didn't want to let Taj out of his sight, yet the nurse had told them the results wouldn't be available before 10:00 am. He couldn't even eat breakfast. He couldn't sit still, so nervous and excited he practically bounced in his seat in class. There was no way he could be carrying an STD; he was a virgin, for God's sake. Of the two of them, Taj had the experience, although he assured him that he'd always worn a condom. He didn't need to say more. Dylan hadn't wanted to hear about Taj's previous relationships and Taj really didn't want to talk about them. The waiting was torture; he felt like his future with Taj hung on something completely out of his control. He'd already decided if something showed up in the results, they'd deal with it, together. Visions of Taj holding him, touching him, filled his mind. He wondered what he would see in Taj's eyes when they were finally one. Dylan had decided he wanted that; he wanted to be with Taj, completely, Taj inside his body, joined to him. He became so lost in his imaginings he almost missed his cell phone vibrating softly on his desk. Quickly rushing from the class, he flipped the phone open to hear an automated voice announce his test results were 170

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available. Dylan recited the phone number the automated system gave him and impatiently dialed. "Thank you for calling the Free Clinic. This is Peggy, how can I help you?" a friendly voice answered. "Yes, I'm calling for my test results," Dylan told the woman. "I just received a call saying they're in." "What is your file number?" Peggy asked. Dylan had memorized his file number and he nervously gave it to Peggy. "Yes, your results were negative on all tests. A printout of your results will be available for you to pick up or can be mailed to the address provided in the file." "Thank you so much! Go ahead and mail them." Dylan could barely contain his delight. He was clean, but having it confirmed so that he and Taj could move forward had him doing a happy dance in the empty hallway. He had to text Taj. Dylan@Taj: Got test results from clinic Dylan rushed back into the classroom. He grabbed his stuff and left, unable to concentrate on what the instructor said. He'd get notes from someone later. Dylan ran out the room and headed towards the Science building where Taj had Microbiology. Taj@Dylan: and? Dylan almost laughed at Taj's one word text. He 171

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could almost hear Taj's exasperation at his teasing. Dylan couldn't help himself, he was tempted to wait for his lover outside his classroom to tell him in person, but he wanted to find out what Taj's results were just as badly. Dylan@Taj: Clean. Negative on all results Taj@Dylan: WooHoo! M still waiting 4 call. Where r you? Dylan@Taj: Standing outside bio building Dylan had barely sent the text when he saw Taj running from the door of the building, felt his arms enclose him in warmth, and his lips descended in a passionate kiss. "Congratulations, lover." Taj smiled warmly, giving Dylan a squeeze. "Now, all we need are your results and we're home free." Dylan sighed into Taj's chest, his excitement sending waves through his body and his cock already hardening, just from seeing Taj's smiling face. As if in response to their impatient desires, Taj's phone rang and the automated voice came over the line. Dylan grabbed Taj's phone, hung up and dialed the clinic, not waiting for the automated system to recite the phone number, and handed the phone back to Taj. The same friendly voice came over the line and Taj gave her his file number, a grin spreading across his face, negative on all tests. Taj thanked the woman and hung up. He picked 172

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Dylan up off the ground and let out a whoop of joy, spinning around. "We're skipping the rest of the day, I hope you know." Taj pulled Dylan along with him. "Well, I kind of guessed, since you're dragging me towards the dorm." Dylan laughed. "I have a surprise. Go pack a bag for the weekend. Leave Tony a note so they won't worry, but tell him they'd better not try to contact us under penalty of death. This weekend is ours and only ours." "What do you have planned?" Dylan asked. "Where are we going?" "You'll see. Just get some stuff together." Taj and Dylan burst through the front door of the dorm, Dylan bouncing on the balls of his feet as they waited in front of the elevator. When the bell sounded and the door opened, they jumped in. Taj pressed the eight for their floor and drew Dylan against his body, his mouth instantly on Dylan's, his fingers knotting themselves in his hair. Dylan wound his hands around Taj's neck, holding himself against Taj's body, his erection pressed between them. A low moan escaped Taj when the elevator bell rang and the door opened; Taj led Dylan from the elevator and held him tightly, unwilling to let him go just yet. "Hurry" Taj whispered. His tongue caressed the 173

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edge of Dylan's ear. Dylan shivered in Taj's arms. Releasing him, Taj ran down the hall towards his room with Dylan running in the opposite direction for his. Dylan fumbled with his keys. Finally getting the door unlocked, he rushed into the room and grabbed his duffel bag, throwing a couple pairs of jeans in the bag along with a couple T-shirts, underwear, socks, and even a nice dress shirt, just in case they decided to go somewhere upscale. Keep it casual, I guess, Dylan thought. If he has something special in mind then we'll deal with it later. Lastly, pulling a brown paper bag from the top drawer of his dresser, he added it to the bag with a sheepish grin, remembering his 'rite of passage' with embarrassment from a week earlier, when he'd gone into the drugstore to purchase his first box of condoms and lube. He found what he needed easily enough, but couldn't find a male cashier. The thought of a girl handling his condoms and lube was unseemly and intolerable. Finally, giving up, he joined a line with an older woman cashier. The woman, who looked like someone's grandmother, chuckled when he grabbed a soda and some gum, trying to fake nonchalance. "Got a date tonight, sweetie?" she asked. "Um, yeah." Dylan answered, knowing his face flushed with embarrassment, took his bag and escaped. He'd been nervous, but he did it and it'd be easier next time. 174

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Dylan zipped his duffel, shut and locked the door to his room, and looked down the hallway. Taj had just locked his room. They met in front of the elevator for a passionate kiss. Another elevator ride, then Taj guided Dylan out to his car, and drove into the city. Half an hour later, Taj pulled into the parking garage of a large, very expensive hotel, and opened the driver's side window when the valet stepped up to meet them. "May I assist you?" the valet asked, eyeing the car and then the young driver with disdain. "Yes, I have a reservation in the name of Davis," Taj replied pulling out his ID for confirmation. The valet's attitude changed immediately at the mention of the name. "You're expected, Mr Davis. Your suite is ready." He handed Taj a passkey. "The concierge will meet you in the lobby. Do you have any bags? Would you like me to park the car?" "No, I know where to park and we can handle our own bags, thank you." Taj took the passkey for the security door and drove on into the parking garage. "My father keeps a suite here," he explained to Dylan. "He lets me use it whenever I want. He's been out of the country for four years now, so I guess this is his way of providing a home for me, more or less. He says it's so he'll always have a place to stay when he comes to visit me, but 175

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he hasn't been here since before I graduated from high school. I come here whenever I need time away from school. I've never brought anyone here, or even told the guys about this place." Taj grinned, parking in a spot marked reserved. "You don't stay with your mom?" asked Dylan hesitantly, but then quickly looked down at the floorboards. They really hadn't discussed their families since the night Dylan revealed how he and Taj had known each other in the past. "It's okay. Mom's happily remarried. You know, after she and my dad divorced, she went back to school and got her law degree. She's a divorce lawyer. I guess, after what we went through with my dad…" "Taj you don't have to—" "Well, I think she's determined that no one else will ever have to go through what she did. Then she met my step-dad and the rest, as they say, is history." "I'm glad she's happy. Back then, I never really found out what happened to you and your mom until much later, when I was old enough to understand. I'm—" Taj interrupted, not wanting to go back down that road. "I have twin half-sisters and a new baby brother. When I'm around, things are kind of uncomfortable, so I stay away most of the time. Mom is happy. I guess she 176

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misses me a little, but she's doing well, so I don't mind keeping my distance." "But Taj, I—" "No, please, lover. Don't even go there." "You're sure, because if—" "They don't purposely exclude me. Her new husband's really a good man, and he treats her much better than my dad ever did. He tries to be a father to me, but since I came out of the closet and told them I'm gay, I make him uncomfortable. He doesn't know what to do." Taj gave his head a shake. He got out of the car, rushing around to open Dylan's door for him. "And I thought chivalry was dead." Dylan laughed as he took Taj's hand and they ambled hand in hand to the elevator. "Apparently not," Taj leaned over and whispered in Dylan's ear, then waved the passkey over the key reader, the bell rang, and the elevator door opened. Dylan followed Taj into the elevator and slid into his arms. When the door closed, Taj began nibbling on his neck. "Stop it, we're gonna be seen!" Dylan half-heartedly fussed. "You don't want to be seen with me?" Taj teased. "No, but necking in public is embarrassing!" Dylan swatted teasingly at Taj, who chuckled unrepentantly and 177

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continued to nuzzle Dylan's neck. "Can't help it, I want you." Taj moaned softly into Dylan's ear, snuggling him against his body. "Besides, I know you like me making a fuss over you in public, regardless of your protests." Dylan felt Taj's arousal pressed hard against his own through their jeans. "You're as hard as I am, sweetheart." When the elevator slowed, he leaned in and kissed Dylan passionately. The door on the elevator dinged and opened. "Oh!" Dylan jumped and the concierge cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "Mr Davis," the concierge addressed Taj, who snickered when Dylan began squirming, trying to put some space between him and Taj, but not succeeding. "Yes?" "Your suite is prepared. If you or your—guest need anything, feel free to ring us." The concierge eyed Dylan suspiciously, and then turned to stare at the door. "Thank you, we'll be fine. Please don't disturb us. I'll call, if we need anything. Also, I'm not talking any calls. If he calls, I'm not here." "Yes sir, as you wish." The elevator halted at the penthouse, the concierge opened the door to the suite, allowing Taj and Dylan to enter first. "Sir, you know I have to ask. Your friend must be registered, as per your father's 178

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orders. May I see your ID, sir?" "Dylan Michaels." Dylan told the Concierge, pulling his ID from his wallet and handing it to him. "I'll add his name to the registry." The concierge returned Dylan's ID and retreated, closing the door behind him. "Wow, Taj. What a place!" Dylan dropped his duffle bag and stared at the spacious room and floor to ceiling windows. "Yeah, Dad enjoys his extravagances and I enjoy costing him money whenever I possibly can. So, when I'm here, I fully enjoy the amenities the penthouse suite provides. At least when he gets the bill, he'll remember he has a son, since he's never here and could care less if I'm around or not." "I'm sorry things are bad between you and your dad." "He does this because my mom insists he make an effort to at least have something resembling a relationship with me. So we share a hotel suite he's never seen." A strange glint entered Taj eyes, "I wonder, with your name on the registry, if he will put the names together. I certainly didn't, but he's better with names than I am." "I guess it is kind of ironic, my mother was his mistress and I'm your lover." Dylan laughed, rolling his 179

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eyes. "You're so cute. I love when you get embarrassed." Taj walked over and took Dylan into his arms. "Damn, Taj, no guy likes to be called 'cute'." Dylan sighed. "Sexy, hot, even nerdy, but not 'cute'." Taj kissed his miffed lover, letting his kiss soothe away his ire. "We have all the time in the world. We can do whatever we want." Taj ran one hand along the side of Dylan's face. His eyes flowed over Dylan, looking for something, studying his face, his body, and finally settling upon Dylan's dark chocolate eyes. "I love you, you know." Taj struggled to control himself. He wanted to pick Dylan up, throw him on the bed and ravish him. He wanted to touch, taste, and mark every inch of him. But he feared Dylan would shatter before his eyes if he let Dylan know just how much he needed him. Sure, they had fooled around, a little mutual masturbation. But would Dylan be afraid of the power of Taj's desire? Taj growled softly, loosening his arms around Dylan, allowing him to pull away if he wanted to, only to feel Dylan's arms clutch him closer and tighter in response. "No, don't let go. I love you too. I want to hold you, make love to you. I can't get enough. I love you so much it hurts. I can barely breathe when I see you. When you walk into a room, you're the only one I see," Dylan whispered, 180

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his face tucked against Taj's chest. "If I do something you're not ready for, or if anything hurts, you have to tell me," Taj whispered, and then he swept Dylan up and carried him into the bedroom. Dylan's hands were far from idle. He tugged at Taj's T-shirt and unbuckled the belt at his waist. They hungrily grasped each other, desire and lust taking over. In getting his hands into Taj's pants, Dylan succeeded before Taj. He grasped Taj's cock firmly, pulling it free of his underwear. Dylan bent over Taj, kissed his erection, and began licking and sucking his cock like a lollypop. "You don't ha—" Taj gasped. Dylan wrapped his mouth around the head of his cock, his tongue exploring the crevices of the hood, lightly running the tip of his tongue along the crease in the head. Taj moaned with pleasure and he pulled Dylan around so he could get at his zipper. Taj yanked Dylan's jeans down his thighs, then, taking Dylan's cock in one hand and licking his fingers, he began to stroke Dylan's cock and play with his tight little pink entrance. Taj rained kisses over Dylan's round ass, his tongue licking and tasting, enjoying the flavor of his lover. Dylan moaned and sucked harder at Taj's cock, rubbing and stroking him in time with the strokes he received until he trembled with mindless need. 181

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"Dylan, enough." Taj growled and turned Dylan over, moving around between his knees. "Relax for me now, love." He hovered a moment, looking down into the face of his lover, his passion filled eyes, his bottom lip caught in his teeth. "So beautiful." Taj whispered. Dylan had him so hard it was painful, a good pain, one telling him he'd never be the same again. A feeling that said Dylan belonged to him and owned the other half of his soul. "God, you're gorgeous. I'll never get enough of you. I love you so much!" "Taj, need you." Dylan moaned. Reaching for him, Taj spread his knees. Dylan clutched at his outstretched arms, his legs up over Taj's shoulders. Taj grabbed a pillow and placed it under Dylan's hips then went down on Dylan, taking him into his mouth and slipping one finger just inside his pink, puckered opening. Dylan cried out when Taj's finger stroked his insides, massaging the muscles, his mouth and tongue sucking, tasting Dylan's cock, creating a cascade of sensations through his body. "Relax, Dylan. You're so tight. I don't want to hurt you," Taj whispered, his voice deep with desire. Dylan lay on the bed, his hands reaching between his thighs, knotting in Taj's hair as he cried out in ecstasy. Taj slid his finger 182

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gently in and out, working the sides of Dylan's hole, relaxing the muscles. When he felt the ring of muscles start to suck at his finger, drawing him deeper, he slipped in a second and Dylan's hips bucked. Moaning, Dylan shook his head, clutching at the bedding beneath him. Taj nipped at the sides of his shaft, sliding a third finger home, scissoring them within until Dylan began grinding himself against Taj, fucking himself on Taj's fingers. "You like that, sweetheart?" Taj watched Dylan for signs of any discomfort, but saw him writhe and twitch, clutching at the sheets in pleasure. "Feels good… ah… need more" Dylan panted, his eyes rolling up. He gave over to his body's desires, screaming when Taj's fingers brushed his prostate. The power to make Dylan scream in pleasure made Taj feel like a god. He searched for and found his sweet spot, stroking it again and again, sending Dylan flying towards his climax. Dylan's screams gave proof of his uncontrolled ecstasy, the sensations rippling through his body. Taj sucked harder on his erection. With each stroke, he petted Dylan's prostate. "Taj… I—ung! Please… can't…" Dylan's body convulsed, shooting ribbons of spunk into Taj's mouth, the sheen of sweat covering his body creating a pure sensuality, exquisite in Taj's eyes. He had never seen anything so 183

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beautiful in his life as Dylan in the throes of orgasm. Taj swallowed and sucked until every drop had been drained from his lover, who lay with his eyes closed, panting. "Dylan, open your eyes for me. I can't take anymore. I want you. I need you. Please?" Taj asked, his voice hoarse. "Wait—wait, go get my duffel," Dylan panted breathlessly, scrambling back a bit on the bed. Breathing deeply in an attempt to control himself, Taj clamped down on his raging desire, grasping his cock at the base tightly, and uncomfortably ran out to the door. He grabbed both duffels and headed back to the room, dropping both bags beside the bed. With a moan, Taj bent over and opened his bag at the same time Dylan opened his, grabbing his brown paper sack and ripping it open in his hurry to get at the contents. When he looked up, he saw Taj holding a small foil packet in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. Dylan watched Taj struggle with the wrapper. "Great minds think alike." Dylan panted, dropping the box of condoms he held in one hand. Taking the bottle of lube from Taj, he popped the lid open. "Taj, forget it. We're both clean, you don't have to use a condom if you don't want to, I don't mind." Dylan smiled at his lover. Taj's eyes lit up. "You're sure? I mean, messy, you 184

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know." Not wanting Dylan to change his mind, Taj reached for the open bottle of lube. He loved the idea of being able to feel Dylan, that there would be nothing between them. "I'm sure, Taj. We don't need them. I want to really feel you." Dylan reached for his lover and Taj took his hand, leaning over him to kiss him gently at first, then with a fire that burned, searing both of them to their souls. Taj sat back on his heels between Dylan's open legs. Covering his hand with the lube, he liberally covered his cock and rubbed his lubed fingers into Dylan's welcoming hole. Lowering himself to, Taj kissed Dylan passionately, taking his legs and bracing them up over his shoulders then lining up his cock with Dylan's entrance to rub the blunt head of his cock against Dylan. "I want you. Please, Taj," Dylan moaned, reaching for Taj's arms "I'll make you feel even better." Taj growled, pushing the head of his cock past Dylan's tight ring. "So tight, Dylan. You feel so good." "Taj!" Dylan cried out as Taj breached his entrance, panting heavily, his fingernails scratching, grasping at Taj's arms, needing to hold onto his lover. "Are you okay?" Taj panted, forcing himself to stop, to hold still, trembling with the effort, allowing his lover to adjust to him. "Breathe, Dylan. Try to relax," Taj 185

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whispered. Dylan's grasp on him tightened momentarily then began to relax, his body becoming accustomed to Taj. "I'm okay. Love you, Taj," Dylan gasped, looking up into Taj's green eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't stop." Taj's hips ground forward, forcing more of his shaft into Dylan until his balls slapped up against Dylan's ass. "Ah, yes!" Dylan's voice trembled with a mix of pain and pleasure. "I love you so much." Taj slowly moved his hips. Stroking Dylan's hardened cock, he rocked back and forth, trying to give his lover time to adjust to him. "Dylan!" "Oh—ha! More… Taj." Dylan panted, groaning when Taj pulled back until only his head remained, rimmed by Dylan's tight ass ring. Then Taj thrust back in, his smooth movement rubbing against Dylan's sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure through Dylan. Dylan began rocking his hips in time with Taj, meeting him thrust for thrust, their pace increasing. The sound of slapping flesh, their bodies meeting increasing their frenzy, their wild pounding speeding them towards release. "Gonna come… Dylan. Come with me!" Taj panted. "Ah… Taj!" Dylan screamed, clutching at Taj, pulling him down into a deep kiss. They both found their 186

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release. Taj filling Dylan with his hot cream while ribbons of Dylan's jizz shot between them, covering Dylan's chest. Collapsing down to the side of his lover, Taj pulled Dylan with him, holding him tightly in his arms until his softening cock slid from Dylan's body. Taj watched Dylan's eyes drift closed as he teetered on the edge of sleep. "Rest, love." Taj kissed him gently then got up out of bed and went to the bathroom. He returned to the bed with a warm, wet towel and cleaned his lover, then tossed the towel into the bathroom and curled up next to Dylan, drifing off into a restful sleep with his love.

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Chapter 11 Saturday, September 11, 2010

Dylan woke up first. His body ached in places he'd never hurt before, yet he smiled, gazing at his lover, remembering hearing Taj calling his name, over and over. They'd made love until they were both too exhausted to move, then slept, satiated, through the night. He felt so content and loved, like a missing piece of his heart had been returned, finally in place. Nothing could hurt him, Taj belonged to him and he to Taj. They lay together, entwined, Taj's head against Dylan's chest, his arms around his waist. Dylan stroked Taj's soft, silky hair. Taj always seemed to have his hands in Dylan's hair; now Dylan saw the attraction. He loved the feel of it sliding through his fingers. Dylan needed to use the restroom but his legs felt like jelly, boneless. He didn't want to wake Taj, because he rarely got to watch Taj sleep. He'd content himself with gazing at Taj's beautiful face, his strong, muscular body, and thick rich chestnut-brown hair. Taj made him feel so safe and secure. Lying together like this made the rest of the world cease to exist. 188

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Taj's eyes flickered open and he smiled. "Hello, lover," Taj said. He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned in to kiss Dylan. "How are you feeling?" Dylan smiled, "I'm definitely sore, but it's a good kind of sore. I need to use the bathroom but my legs are made of rubber. I think I need some help." "Well then, since it's my fault, I'll carry you." Taj jumped to his feet, pulled a squealing Dylan into his arms, and carried him to the bathroom. Dylan covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. "Oww!" Dylan yelped when Taj sat him abruptly onto the commode. "Oh! Sorry!" Taj frowned worriedly. "It's okay. I just need a minute." Dylan tried to smile up at Taj, but the soreness in his hips seemed a bit more intense than he expected. "How about a bath?" Taj suggested, standing at the door. "Sounds heavenly. Especially if you take one with me." Dylan sighed. Taj smiled and went out the door. He heard the water running into the Jacuzzi and Taj on the phone. Dylan sighed, he closed his eyes dreamily, waiting for Taj to return. They had loved each other all yesterday, reveling in the touch and caress of their bodies. They hadn't 189

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taken time to order anything to eat. Dylan recognized that his lightheadedness was caused by that more than anything else. "What are you doing?" Taj asked, catching Dylan around the waist. Dylan grinned and fell into Taj's arms. "Falling for you. Your lover is starving to death." Dylan replied a bit breathlessly. "Not funny," Taj scolded, picking Dylan up into his arms and carrying him to the Jacuzzi. He settled him in the hot bubbling water then climbed in with him. Dylan groaned, sinking into the hot water, feeling all his aches and pains ease as Taj settled behind him. He leaned back against Taj's chest and sighed when Taj began to massage Dylan's shoulders. "Thank you." "You're welcome." Taj leaned in and kissed Dylan's neck, "How about an apple for now and then we can call room service for something to eat." Taj wrapped one arm around Dylan's chest, the other holding a red apple from the fruit basket in the lounge in front of Dylan. "Umm… this is so nice." Dylan relaxed back into Taj's embrace, grabbed Taj's hand, moving it and the apple so he could take a bite, then holding the apple out for Taj. "Yes, it is. I love having you all to myself." Taj leaned forward, kissing Dylan deeply, tasting Dylan and the apple. 190

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"Ah, I'm sorry. I don't think I can, just yet, Taj." Dylan mumbled softly looking down, at the water. He didn't want to reject Taj, but his sore hips wouldn't allow him to make love again, at least for a while. Taj laughed, "I love you. Just because I kiss you, doesn't mean I'm gonna take you. I do have some selfcontrol. Relax, I always want to touch you, love you, but I don't think I could get it up now, even if I tried." Dylan chuckled in response and took hold of one of Taj's hands, kissing his fingers. "I love your hands. They are so warm and gentle," he said softly. Taj grasped Dylan's chin, gently turning his head towards him so that he could kiss him. "I want to know everything about you. Will you tell me?" Taj asked, lacing his fingers with Dylan's and resting his chin on Dylan's shoulder. "Like what?" "Anything,

everything—family,

friends,

pets,

interests. I like to hear your voice." "Well, I don't have any pets. I took horseback riding for a while and learned dressage from one of Mom's men." He sighed. "Mom and Dad haven't changed at all from back then. They're still unhappily married. Dad lives in New York and is CEO of Men's Business Weekly Magazine. Mom used to go from affair to affair trying to get Dad's 191

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attention but she hasn't been well for some time. When she's doing better, she fawns on me, playing the same old games. When she isn't doing well, she can be mean to the staff at the manor. I try to avoid her whenever I can, which is why I'm living in the dorm. If I'm living at school it's harder for her to be a nuisance." Dylan stared at the water and watched the bubbles boiling at the surface. "I learned dressage too, but I prefer Western to English." Taj encouraged, trying not to focus on Dylan's mom. But Dylan continued as if he hadn't really heard Taj's comment. "Dad, well, there's nothing new there. He sends money, but otherwise treats both Mom and me like we don't exist. He has a mistress. I have a younger halfbrother, Drake, but I've never met him. I've seen pictures of him when he was little, I'm not sure I'd recognize him if I saw him on the street." Dylan leaned back, closing his eyes and resting his head back on Taj's chest. "So how about friends?" Taj asked softly, just beginning to realize how lonely Dylan's life had been. "I had this teacher I really liked, Mr Stein. He taught English and Literature. He introduced me to books. I love the feel of the paper, the smell of the ink, and the crack of the binding of a new book when it opens for the first time. I like the way old books fall open to worn 192

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passages, and how the texture of the paper changes over time. I enjoy restoring old damaged books, cleaning them of any stains, opening the binding, replacing missing pages and sewing the binding back together." Dylan smiled. "Sorry, I know how corny it sounds, but I really love them." "You make books sound exciting." "Well, I've spent a lot of time in libraries and among books. I don't have much experience being a friend or lover. I've always relied on myself, only trusting myself. You'll have to be patient with me and tell me when I mess up. I only have you." Dylan smiled sleepily, closing his eyes, beginning to doze in Taj's arms. "I'll be as patient as you need me to be. I'm sorry you've been so alone." Taj clutched Dylan tightly to him. "I'll never leave you alone again." They sat snuggled in each other's arms until the water started to cool. Taj held Dylan's hand and they moved to the shower and washed each other. Then, donning the hotel bathrobes, they relaxed in the suite living room, and Taj handed Dylan the remote for the TV. "Hungry?" asked Taj, stroking Dylan's hair. "Actually yes, I'm starved." Taj kissed him and walked over to the phone. "They really have a good restaurant here, so we can get whatever 193

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we want from room service. What would you like?" "You pick. You know what's good. I'm too tired to care." Dylan flipped through the channels until he found an old musical, My Fair Lady. "Okay, how about a steak and eggs, hash browns, and chocolate chip pancakes." Taj suggested, picking up the receiver. "They make the best chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream, they're wonderful. You want a soda, iced tea, milk, juice…?" "Sounds great. Oh, iced tea, please." Dylan smiled and went back to flipping channels, checking out the payper-view, looking at the new movies available. "And ice cream, I definitely want ice cream." "For breakfast?" "It's almost noon and, well, what can I say? Any time is ice cream time." Taj laughed heartily and called the desk, placing their order, including the ice cream, then joined Dylan on the sofa. He draped an arm around Dylan's shoulders and kissed him. "You're spoiling me. I'm liable to behave like this in public." Taj teased Dylan softly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "At this point, I wouldn't care if you did. I feel like shouting to the world how much I love Taj Davis." Dylan gave the remote to Taj and snuggled against his lover. 194

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"What would your possessive mother say if you told her you were in love with a man?" Dylan snickered, "She'd blame my father, and throw a fit." "How about your father?" Taj prompted. "Who knows? He'd probably throw more money at me, hoping I'd go away—or disinherit me entirely. I really don't care, I have enough money saved from over the years to pay for school and support myself. With the trust fund my grandparents set up before they passed away, if I don't go crazy and pretend I'm Paris Hilton, I'll be able to live quite comfortably." Dylan looked thoughtful. "Dad's always been generous as long as he doesn't have to deal with anything himself, and the only thing I really spent any money on was my motorcycle." "Well, considering the number of years they were so loving and caring, I think we should move your funds to an account neither of them is aware of, then come out of the closet." Taj winked mischievously at his lover when someone knocked on the door. "What about your family? What will they do?" asked Dylan. Taj answered the door and a waiter wheeled in a cart, covered dishes, a pitcher of iced tea, and a pot of coffee. "Can you bring us two six packs of soda? Thanks." 195

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Taj tipped the waiter and closed the door behind him. "Well, my mom already knows I'm gay and has never had a problem with it really, so I'm pretty sure she would be happy for me. She's a fan of yours, you know. She went on for weeks about how wonderfully you sang at the party. You'd think you sang for her alone." Taj said as he and Dylan dug into their meal. "What about your father?" Dylan licked whipped cream off his lip, causing Taj to lose his train of thought. "Umm… what?" "Your Dad?" Dylan snickered. "Oh, yeah. Well, Dad's family doesn't have much to do with me. I don't think he'll be pleased, but I don't think he'll be difficult. I never see him, so what's the difference? He may finally give up on me taking over Davis and Son, and finally give it to one of my half-brothers." Taj smiled. "I know Drew would definitely be happy if he did. He lives for the import-export business, and I couldn't care less." "Drew?" Dylan asked. "My oldest half-brother, Andrew. He's two years younger than me." They enjoyed their meal and returned to the sofa, Dylan walking a bit more comfortably. The waiter arrived with the soda and cleared the table of dishes. "You look exhausted." Taj said to Dylan, running a 196

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hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess I am. I think I could fall asleep right here," he mumbled, leaning heavily against Taj's side. "Well, why don't you relax here and take a nap. Maybe later you'll feel like watching a movie or playing the X-box." Taj kissed Dylan gently on the temple before Dylan stretched out on the sofa, pillowing his head in Taj's lap. Taj turned the TV to a music station playing soft instrumentals and smiled, watching Dylan's eyes close, his breathing become slow and steady as he drifting off to sleep. He carded his fingers through Dylan's hair, gazing down at the man who held his heart.

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Chapter 12 Sunday, September 12, 2010

"Dylan, I'm going to get those powdered sugar donuts you like and a couple of decent lattés. I'll be back soon. Don't answer the room phone, let it go to the messenger service. If I call you, I'll call your cell, which is right here on the night stand." Dylan nodded without really waking up, and Taj's lips quirked up into a tender smile. His sweetheart wasn't a morning person. They'd have to return to school tonight, since they both had homework to do and they hadn't brought any along with them. Neither of them wanted to return to reality; the suite had become their sanctuary. "Okay. Thank you," Dylan mumbled, then his eyes flew open and he stared into Taj's eyes, putting a hand on his cheek. "I love you." "I know. I love you too. I'll be back before you even realize I'm gone," Taj whispered, kissing Dylan gently. Then he left the bedroom and went out the door. Dylan drifted in and out of sleep, aware only of dreams of Taj and feeling extremely peaceful. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a phone ringing insistently, 198

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but he couldn't wake up enough to answer it. Besides, Taj had said not to, unless his cell phone rang. Still, the phone had disturbed him enough to cause him to be aware of other needs, especially the bathroom. Dylan got to his feet, feeling much better this morning. A bit stiff, but not numb or unsteady, he made his way to the bathroom. A glance at the clock showed Taj had only been gone for an hour and should be back soon. Dylan sighed. He missed Taj. How dumb was that? He'd only been gone for an hour. Dylan shook his head in disbelief. He put on the bathrobe hung on the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it around himself, then made his way into the living room. The door to the suite opened and the concierge spoke loudly, "Sir, I'm sure I saw your son leave. His car is not in the parking garage." "There were two names on the register. I want to know if his guest is still here." Dylan froze at the gruff voice, unable to hide from those coming into the room, so he readied himself for anything. He straightened his bathrobe and stood next to the sofa. Summoning the coldest expression he'd ever cultivated, Dylan faced the concierge and the stranger entering his room. "Couldn't you knock?" "My apologies sir, but Mr Davis is the man who's paying for the room. This is your son's guest, Mr 199

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Michaels."

The


concierge

spoke

quickly,

clearly

uncomfortable, wanting to be gone from this situation, but trapped here by Taj's father—much like Dylan himself. "I see. Mr Davis, how can I help you?" Dylan eyed the older man carefully. He seemed shorter than Dylan remembered him. He wore his hair shorter than Taj, but the color was the same chestnut-brown, with just a touch of grey at the temples and sideburns. He looked very physically fit for his age. "Where is my son?" Mr Davis growled, eyeing Dylan's bathrobe. "If you will excuse me gentlemen, I'll be leaving." The concierge escaped out the door. Dylan wished he could follow him. "Taj went for breakfast, he'll be returning shortly." Dylan said evenly. Just because the man had barged into the room didn't mean he would have an issue with him. Taj did say his family knew he was gay, but his father didn't act like he'd be the understanding type. "I can call him and let him know you're here," he offered, trying to be somewhat hospitable. He might not have fond memories of this man, but as Taj's father, he deserved respect. Dylan wanted to at least try to make a good impression. "That's not necessary. If he is returning shortly, I'll wait." Mr Davis continued to eye Dylan suspiciously. 200

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"Fine


then,

why

don't

you

make

yourself

comfortable. If you will excuse me, I'd like get dressed." Dylan started for the bedroom. "Just a minute. What's your relationship with my son?" Taj shouldered the door open, hands full with carryout. "Hey, Dylan, I hope you don't mind caramel because they didn't have hazel—" "Taj, we have company." Dylan called. His smile slipped immediately when he saw his father, now standing in front of his chair. "What do you want?" Taj asked, setting his take out bags and cups on the table and coming to stand behind Dylan. "You okay?" "I'm fine." "I've left standing orders for Mr Peters to let me know whenever you have guests and who they are," Mr Davis growled at his son. "You haven't answered my question. Why are you here? Is it because it's Dylan? If you're wondering, yes, I know who he is." Taj left his hands on Dylan's shoulders, his thumbs rubbing in little circles, trying to reassure Dylan and himself. "I asked him, just before you came in, and now I'll ask you. What's your relationship? You haven't let go of 201

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him since you came in the door." Mr Davis stated coldly, an edge to his voice. "He's my boyfriend. My lover. Surely Mom's told you of my inclinations." Taj squeezed Dylan's shoulders gently. They'd been joking before, but he would tell his father the truth. "Dylan, why don't you go get dressed while I talk to my father." Taj suggested, giving Dylan's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. He really didn't want Dylan caught in the crossfire. "He's nothing but the spawn of that devil woman," Davis shouted. "How could you betray your family like this?" "Excuse me," Dylan said coldly. "My mother may not be a saint and I don't pretend to defend her behavior in any way, but you're making judgments on my character when you were clearly the one cheating on his wife." "Shut up, you bastard." "I think it is time for you to leave, Father. I'll be calling Mom, letting her know about this visit of yours. I'm sure she'll be very interested in your attitude. Let's do this again in another four years, shall we?" Taj put an arm around Dylan's shoulders, holding him close. "I'm sure your mother will be very interested in who her son has chosen for a lover. I mean, really, Taj. How 202

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could you choose the son of a tramp? He's sure to be just like her. For god's sake, she had him sitting outside the room listening. You've no idea what all she could've done, how twisted he could be." Mr Davis stared down at Dylan who raised his chin defiantly. "Sir, if you have something you want to ask me, then do so—but I may choose not to answer." This attitude was something he was going to have to get used to. Davis hated him because of his mother, but plenty of people would hate him for being gay. "I'll no longer pay for this room, Taj. I'm leaving. I'll pay for everything up until his name appears on the register, but no further." Mr Davis walked towards the door. "You're not my son. I don't know who you are anymore." "What do you mean anymore?" Taj shot back. "You've never taken an interest in me, and you've never known me. So don't kid yourself. Thank you, by the way, you've just freed me. I no longer have to look over my shoulder, wondering when you'll be coming for me. Now I can live my own life free of you." "Fine!" Mr Davis stormed from the room, slamming the door. "Well, that was… unexpected." Taj said. He kissed Dylan who tried to get hold of his emotions. "Hey now, 203

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we're all right." Taj came around the sofa, sat down next to Dylan, pulled him into his arms, against his chest. "He's just a big blowhard; he knows I can afford to pay for this place by myself, he's just being a jerk. What a complete ass." "Taj, are you really okay?" Dylan asked in a small voice. "I'm fine, lover. We fight every time he shows up— granted the last time was four years ago—though I didn't expect him to show up today. I'd better call Mom and warn her. I'm sure she's about to get an earful, probably even a visit. What a nuisance," Taj grumbled. He picked up his cell phone, continuing to stroke Dylan's hair as he called his mother. Dylan slowly relaxed as Taj played with his hair, running his fingers through the strands and distracting both of them. "Hey, Mom, how's it going? Well, you're about to get a call from Dad. He's pissed. I don't know if you told him about me, but… he just met my lover and he, well let's just say things didn't go well." "Oh…" Taj laughed into the phone. "So you didn't? Well he knows now. She didn't tell him I'm gay." Taj said to Dylan "Yes, I'm very happy. Dad isn't exactly the part of the family I would've liked him to meet first. We're okay… 204

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No, he didn't get physical. …Well, you remember the Michaelses, right? …Yeah, her. Remember the young boy, whose voice you mooned over for months? …Yes, his name is Dylan. We met at school and he's very kind, generous, and extremely cute. I love him very much, he seems to feel the same. … No, we've been dating for over a month, I just haven't said anything because I wanted to be sure… yes, I know you're concerned… yes, I know you love me too. Mom, believe me. I can't really explain how… we're in love. He holds my heart and I hold his. What else is there to say?" Taj sighed into the phone. "I know. I'm sorry about Dad. Yeah, well, he did disown me, again. Which suits me fine. Now he can give his business to Drew with a clear conscience. No, I'm not mad at Drew, I actually feel sorry for him. He's gonna be under the microscope now. I'm sure Dad will put him through the ringer. I love you Mom… Yes, I'll try to come and visit. Maybe, I'll ask him. Take care, Mom… bye." Taj sighed, ending the call and leaving the phone on the table. "Mom says hi. She's happy for us. She wants to know if you'll sing for her again some time." Taj chuckled and kissed Dylan. "Umm… sure, whenever she wants." Dylan frowned, dumbfounded at the difference in attitude between 205

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Taj's mom and his dad. Dylan remembered Taj's mom being kind to him, all those years ago. She had always seemed to be smiling, although now, Dylan knew she must have been in a great deal of pain. The suite phone rang, "I'm guessing Mr Peters is wondering about the bill. Dad's such a jerk. Hello." "Mr Davis, I'm sorry, but—" the concierge began. "Taj, I got this." Dylan smiled at Taj and heading for the bedroom to grab his wallet from the nightstand. "One moment please, Mr Peters." Taj said into the phone. "No Dylan, I invited you here." "Taj, please. Let me treat you this time. You can treat me next time." Dylan smiled softly, returning and held out his hand for the phone. "But Dylan—" "Please, Taj, let me do this." Taj handed Dylan the phone with a slight frown. "Mr Peters—Yes, Dylan Michaels. I'd like you to bill my card for payment for the room and expenses until we leave. I appreciate your assistance earlier." Dylan read off his credit card number to the concierge. "Thank you, Mr Michaels, a receipt for the bill will be available when you and Mr Davis check out." Dylan put the phone down. "This is my fault, I'm no different than my mom. I can't believe… Damn, if it 206

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weren't for me, you'd still have a relationship with your father. I'm so sorry, Taj. I never dreamed he would actually—" "Dylan, what are you saying? Sweetheart, shhh, this is no big deal." Taj struggled to understand what Dylan was thinking. The two moved to the sofa, sitting and holding hands. "You didn't do anything. I'm happy, love. I could've introduced you to him as a friend, but I didn't. I told him the truth. If he can't accept you, he isn't worth my time. You're the most important person in my life and I won't let you go. I love you." "But, Taj, he's your father. You've always had your father and now I've taken him away from you. I know what it feels like to have your father ignore your existence. Believe me, I know exactly how much it hurts." "No, you don't know. You know how things are with your father, not mine. Please, Dylan, this is different. He's being a controlling bastard. Really, he does this every time he sees me, trying to manipulate me into doing what he wants. Inside of six months, he'll be calling on the phone. In a year, he'll ask me to come for a visit. He'll say Mom's nagging is forcing him to do it, but he'll make some concession of some sort, or buy me something for the car. Anyway, he'll be back. This is hardly the first time I've been disowned." 207

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Taj got up, leaving Dylan struggling to get hold of his feelings, bringing in the donuts and coffee and setting them on the coffee table. Even if what Taj said was true, he might be wrong. His father might not come back this time. Yet, Taj didn't seem worried. "Dylan, I'm really not comfortable with you paying for this all by yourself. I'm going to have Mr Peters charge half to my account. This room is crazy expensive and it was my idea. Let me help, okay?" Taj sighed and dropped into the sofa beside Dylan. "Fine, you can help pay for the room if it makes you happy." "Now tell me, why are you so shaken by this? We talked about how I thought he'd react." Taj drew Dylan tight against his side. "I know what you said, but I couldn't imagine he'd actually—I mean, I knew he'd have a fit about me and be harsh because of Mom, but I really didn't expect him to reject you. I mean, refusing to pay for the room… Okay, I get that. Why would he want to pay for a room for his son to shack up with his male lover? I just never expected—I didn't want to cause, this." Dylan crumbled, defeated. "You didn't cause anything, lover. Please don't blame yourself for my father being a manipulative bastard." "But—" "My mother doesn't care, it's none of my brothers' 208

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business, and I won't let my father dictate whom I love. Dylan, even if he completely disowns me for real this time. I could care less. There is only one person I absolutely can't live without. That person is you, Dylan. No one else matters. I love you, and together we can do anything." Taj smiled hopefully at Dylan. "Please love, don't let him ruin this time for us. I'm deliriously happy right now. I love you so much and I want to share it with you." Dylan took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around Taj's neck, letting go of his worries, for Taj. "How could I refuse you anything? I love you so much. I want to give you the world." "I don't need the world. Just you." "I need you too." Dylan smiled slightly, resting his head against Taj. "Ok, how about a movie, something to take our minds off such a rude interruption." Taj took the remote control, flipping channels, looking for a comedy they could enjoy together.

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Chapter 13 Friday, November 19, 2010

Dylan awoke in Taj's arms. They had been together like this ever since their weekend at the hotel, a couple of months back. They'd become inseparable. They were only apart during class. Even when they were in choir together, they were side by side. Dylan felt so blissful in Taj's arms. Nothing could touch him there; Taj kept him safe from the world. He truly felt protected, loved, and cherished. With Taj, he didn't feel used or forced to do anything. He didn't have to prove he cared about Taj. They just loved each other. Taj didn't make him do anything for his love, not like his mother. He'd never known love like this. His cell phone rang. Dylan eased out of bed, answering it quickly so it wouldn't awaken Taj. Seeing the display, he took the phone out into the hall before answering. Barely 6:00 am meant this wouldn't be a good call. "Yes," Dylan answered. "Mr Michaels, I'm sorry to disturb you so early in the morning, but you haven't been home to see your mother. She's having one of her spells. She's locked herself 210

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in her room and is refusing to allow anyone to enter. Please, can you fit a visit into your schedule?" Henry used to be his mother's driver, now he was the butler and the one person Dylan relied upon when it came to his mother's condition. He'd been getting calls from various household employees since leaving for school. Calls made on his mother's orders. However, Henry wouldn't call unless things were serious. Dylan sighed. He didn't want to see her. What she wanted from him, he couldn't give her. He couldn't be his father. "I'm sorry to cause you problems, Henry. I'll come today after class." "Thank you. I know your mother will be happy to know you're coming home. I'm sure she'll be better once you're here," Henry said, and hung up. Dylan hated everything about this. Henry sounded relieved he'd be returning, and no wonder. But she kept getting sicker and Dylan didn't think his visit would do anything to improve things. "I hope you're right," Dylan mumbled to the already disconnected phone, head bowed. He went back into his and Taj's room. Taj lay awake, waiting for him. Dylan smiled at his lover, slipping between the sheets back into bed and snuggled up against him. "Sorry for waking you." "No big. Bad phone call?" Taj asked softly. 211

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"Henry called, my mother is worse. He'd like me to visit her," Dylan whispered. "When are you going?" "Today, after class. If she isn't too bad, I'll be back this evening. If things are bad, I won't be back until Monday. I'll call you and let you know what I decide to do. Hopefully, they're just worried over nothing." Dylan shook his head, closing his eyes tightly, fearing the worst. "Do you want me to come with you?" "No. You'd feel out of place, waiting for me. It's better if I go alone then try and get back quickly." Dylan winced at the thought of his mother making a play for Taj or, worse yet, Taj finding out about the relationship he had with his mother. He'd always carry that secret, Taj could never know about that. "Are you sure? What aren't you telling me? You seem really reluctant, maybe she needs a hospital?" "Really, I can handle her. This is hardly the first time." "I can help, be there for you. We're together now. What hurts you, hurts me too you know." "She—I can't explain. I don't hate her, but I can't be what she wants me to be. My heart belongs to you. Going to see her and knowing, at the very least, I'll have to sing for her, just turns my stomach," Dylan lied, knowing 212

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singing to her would be the least of her desires. If he were really lucky, maybe this time she wouldn't leave any marks. "If you're sure. Call me and let me know what's going on or I'll come looking for you." Taj grinned and kissed Dylan. "I love you." "Love you too. At least we can have breakfast and lunch together before I leave. My last class today is at one. I'll leave afterwards." Dylan forced a smile. He'd just enjoy the time he had left.

****

Dylan stood outside the gate of the house where his mother waited for him. Sighing, he shook his head. He hated this house, there was nothing warm or inviting about it. To him the huge, cold Victorian had always looked like a prison, and each time he entered felt like passing into the gates of hell. He often felt like he'd never escape. He had Taj though, and if he took too long, Taj would come for him. The thought was a blessing and a curse. A relief to know someone outside wanted him, but if Taj were to discover the truth, he might not want him back, the shame would be too much to bear. This had to be the last time. He'd never return here again. He'd make her understand he wouldn't be back, leave 213

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instructions to have Henry call his father for emergencies if his mother persisted. He wouldn't return. He wouldn't go through with this any longer. He'd endured long enough. Taj had accepted him, his love had washed him clean of all this. She wouldn't be dragging him down again. After this, he'd no longer care if she lived or died. If she blamed him, he just wouldn't care. He was done. In his mind, he pictured Taj and felt his warm arms gently holding him, and he drew strength from those thoughts. He entered the house. "Mr Michaels, I'm so glad you've arrived. She's in her rooms and has allowed hardly anyone in since last week. If we leave food, she just throws it around and screams. Yesterday, she went after Mary with a piece from a broken water glass, she suffered a cut on her arm before we were able to stop her." "Is Mary okay?" "Yes, it was a shallow cut and I issued a payment from the emergency funds your father left. She signed a waiver—" He was wrong, he couldn't do this again. "Henry, this is insane. She's sick. Is she taking her medication, seeing her doctor? I can't do this anymore. After today, I'll never step foot in this house again. Do you understand me?" 214

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"You know your mother," Henry said. "She won't see any doctor that isn't a male. The last one refused to see her after she came on to him, not wanting to take no for an answer. I put her medication out, but I don't think she has taken it in days." "Damn it, Henry. She's sick, she has to take her medication. Look, I'm done. I'm leaving." "I'm sorry, Dylan, I've been instructed by your father to have you call him if you say you are leaving. I don't know what he has to say to you, but he gave me a specific phone number for this call. Evidently, he's been expecting this." Henry sighed, handing Dylan a slip of paper with nothing but a phone number written on it. "Thank you, Henry." Dylan frowned and bit his lip. When was the last time he'd actually spoken with his father? He couldn't remember. He went into the office. It had been his father's, but the man hadn't returned to this house since Dylan was a child. He sat down at the large cherrywood desk that monopolized the room and picked up the phone. Pausing, he looked at the paper, considering just washing his hands of the whole nasty business and leaving. He sighed; he couldn't do it. She was his mother. His father needed to be told. He would need to have someone come and look after her. Dylan dialed the number on the paper. "Yes," came the immediate answer. 215

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"Father?" Dylan asked hesitantly. "Dylan." "Yes," Dylan replied flatly. "Henry said you wanted to speak to me and left this phone number for me to call." "I see. You must've told Henry you weren't returning to the house to care for your mother anymore." "Yes. I told him this would be my last visit to this house. I don't plan on ever returning." "I'm sorry Dylan. I can't allow you to leave. If you refuse her, she'll cause problems for me. I'm a public figure, a CEO of a multi-million dollar magazine, for god's sake. I cannot have a scandal like her running amok, she'd financially ruin the magazine. I'm fully aware of what's been going on. I may be damned to hell for not helping you, but you were my way out. I know how sick she has become, Henry keeps me abreast of her exploits. I know about the unnatural attachment she has to you. Cause me problems and I'll expose your relationship to the world. You'll never have a music career. Don't think you can just cut and run. Just deal with her and keep her out of my way." The phone went dead. Dylan sat with the receiver in his hand, stunned. There was no way he'd be able to get away now. Yes, he'd loved his mother, what child wouldn't do anything for the love of his mother? Yes, he'd flourished under her love and 216

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praise when no one else cared. He'd absorbed the attention she lavished on him, regardless of how fake or self-serving it was. It had finally happened, the house had won. He couldn't leave because he'd never be totally free of her. Her illness would always require supervision and his father had just made him her caretaker. Only her death would free him now. The agony washed over him in waves, made worse by thoughts of Taj and his warm love. The love he felt for Taj was real and he could never again mistake what his mother gave him for love. Taj's love made him stronger and weaker at the same time. He wondered if someday he might find Taj again. His fingers dialed Taj's number and held the phone to his ear, before he even realized he had called. "Dylan." Taj's happy voice came over the receiver. Dylan couldn't speak, he could only listen to Taj's voice calling his name. Listen to the voice of the person he loved most in the world. "Dylan… Dylan?" Taj's voice got more anxious when Dylan didn't respond. "Talk to me, sweetheart. I'll come get you." That broke Dylan's voice free. Taj couldn't come here, he couldn't see this. "Taj, I'm going to be gone for awhile. I'm sorry. I don't know when I'll be able to return to school. I'm sorry." Dylan spoke with the cold unemotional 217

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voice he'd cultivated for years. "Don't come looking for me. Good bye." He hung up the phone before Taj could protest and turned it off. "I love you," he said to the closed phone. At least he had mid-term and Thanksgiving break this week. He didn't officially have to be back at school until term resumed on Monday the twenty-ninth. Maybe he could get her stable by then and he could escape to school again. Even just to finish the term. But wishful thinking wouldn't make her sane. He'd never be able to get away. She would consume him. Maybe someday I'll be free enough to call Taj again. Dylan thought, then taking a deep breath he walked out of the office. Henry stood by the door and looked sadly at Dylan. "I'm sorry, Mr Michaels." "I'm going to go up and see her now." Dylan closed his eyes and shook his head. "Most of the staff have gone for the day. I anticipated you wouldn't want them around." Dylan patted the older man on the back. "Thank you. Oh, and if Taj Davis calls for me or comes to the house, don't let him in. He can't see this." "As you wish." Dylan turned and headed up the staircase towards 218

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the bedroom suites. He went into his room first, and sighed when he opened the door. She had trashed everything, of course. Posters that had hung from the walls lay shredded across the floor, photographs—destroyed. His computer in pieces, the monitor bashed in, a total loss. She'd outdone herself this time. Even his pillow had been cut open and the stuffing flung around the room. He didn't have time to clean up the mess now. There would be time later. Walking down the hallway, Dylan began humming to himself. His heart lay broken in his chest, his thoughts kept returning to Taj. He'd carried his love for Taj from the first day he'd sung for him, all those years ago. Now, knowing Taj loved him back gave him strength, solace, and pain. He gathered his courage and entered his mother's room. She lay curled upon the chaise, surrounded by bits and pieces of broken furniture, decorations, and dishes. The room was completely devastated. She had destroyed everything in her manic rage, hurting herself in the process. Her once-beautiful hair was a rat's nest and the remains of her makeup ran in black streaks down her face. She appeared withered, lifeless and grey like a corpse, but Dylan knew that, unlike a corpse, she possessed the strength of the insane. The remains of a shredded black nightgown hung in tatters on her body. Dylan knew those 219

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eyes, those intelligent eyes he'd known as a child, now red like a demon's, were glued to him. "My Angel has returned. Dylan, my baby," Justine Michaels cooed in a gravelly voice, reaching out towards him. "Where've you been, you naughty boy? Why do you torment me so? You know I can't live without you, baby." Dylan stood just inside the door and began to sing to his mother, a song she'd never heard him sing, "Seasons in the Sun" by Terry Jacks. The mournful tones of farewell floated through his voice. The music soothed Justine despite the farewell in the music. She frowned as Dylan sang. He'd always sung love songs to her. Now he couldn't bear to sing the words, they'd only bring Taj to his thoughts. He watched the anger and pain cross his mother's features. "Shut up! What are you doing? Damn you!" Justine screamed over Dylan's voice and sat up on the chaise, shaking with rage. "What's wrong, mother? Don't like the song? I'm sorry my feelings don't please you anymore. That's just too damn bad. I've hated these games you play for a very long time, I just haven't had the courage to tell you. But I no longer have the heart to sing for you." She'd succeeded. She'd made him her prisoner and he'd probably never see Taj again. He'd never feel 220

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comforted and loved again. But he knew the difference now and he wouldn't pretend anymore. The night when he'd sung to Taj, trying to apologize for her detestable behavior with his father—that night she'd truly begun to go mad. When they arrived home, Dylan's father had been waiting for them. He'd told her he was leaving and wouldn't return. Told her she'd destroyed any chance of ever receiving his love. He'd abandoned her but refused to give her a divorce. A divorce would be unseemly and detrimental to his career. He'd trapped her—and she, in turn, made Dylan pay, imprisoning him as well. At the time, no one would have suspected she was ill. It manifested in small ways. She would embarrass him, belittle him, ridicule him. Her punishments for a perceived wrong usually amounted to ignoring him, but when Dylan had grown older, things got steadily worse. By the time he was in middle school, her behavior had become erratic to the point her friends stopped coming to visit and the invitations to the parties stopped coming. The isolation only made matters worse. She began being critical of the staff and pretending they weren't real. She started talking to people who weren't there and handing out punishments for things that never happened. Henry, under orders from his father, took her to a doctor and she was given medication, which helped when she would take 221

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it. By the time Dylan started high school, she was completely dependent upon him for everything. Still, she was his mother, and he thought that if she would just take her medication she would be okay. Most of the time, she was all right. He would sing to her and she would be okay—or at least, he thought she was. It wasn't until just before he left for college that she started calling him by his father's name on occasion. She'd started crawling into bed with him in the middle of the night and trying to touch him. He'd thought that by going to school and getting away that he could make it all go away. Dylan

began

another

song,

"Apologize"

by

Timbaland. His mother didn't exist anymore. Seeing her like this, Dylan wondered how long it would be before he'd join her in madness. He sang his regret and loss at the top of his lungs, watching as his mother got to her feet. She wasn't pale anymore. She looked truly malicious, ferociously angry as she screamed with rage. "Who is she? Who's the woman who stole my baby from me? I'll kill her. I'll rip her heart out and eat it in front of you to show you what I do to those who betray me." Justine sprang across the room towards Dylan like a wild animal. Her hands clenched into fists so tightly her fingernails cut into her palms, leaving blood spatters across the floor. "You! You're just like your father! I won't be 222

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betrayed by another man, ever. You're my baby! Mine!" "It doesn't matter. I won't tell you, and no one in this house knows, including father. I just wanted you to know that from now on, no matter what you make me sing, no matter what you do to me, my heart will never belong to you." Dylan's smile twisted from the pain in his heart, he laughed at his mother's rage, feeling his own sanity slip slightly. Looking at her, he realized this truly had no purpose. He was taunting an insane woman and the only purpose would be in making her angry enough to strike and hurt him. But the physical pain would be preferable to the agony of knowing his future entailed taking care of her and nothing else. She was an animal, a beast, and she charged at him. He'd never been able to raise a hand to her and now he didn't want to, he welcomed the pain. She slapped him across the face, leaving her blood smeared across his cheek, throwing him across the room from the impact. Dylan shook his head, slightly dazed, watching her scream and rage around the room, throwing things at him. When a glass shattered to the left of his head, he felt thankful her aim had never improved over the years. He got to his feet and she charged him again. She threw him down on the chaise, sitting across his hips, pounding on his chest with her fists. He captured her hands and restrained them to keep her from 223

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pummeling him. "Why, my baby, why don't you love your mommy anymore? I've always treated you so well and with such love. Have you been away for so long you've forgotten? Yes, that's it." Justine stroked the face of her son, leaving blood streaks from the cuts on her palms smearing across his forehead and in his hair. She began to kiss him and coo at him, like he was an infant. Her skin felt feverish and burned where she touched him. Dylan closed his eyes, grimacing as she pawed at him. "Stop. Mother, this isn't going to change anything. Just stop—" "My baby is the most beautiful baby, with the voice of an angel. Everyone says so. I'll always hold my baby. No one can take a baby from its mother." He refused to look at her, she lay across him, stroking his face and mumbling inanely, her eyes drifting closed. She was sick and smelled of sweat, puke, and blood. Dylan wanted to vomit himself. He pushed her away from him once she fell into a fitful sleep. She would be sated for a while. Her rage lessened until she awoke to look for him. He'd get her to eat after she slept, and maybe even take a shower. Dylan got to his feet, running for the bathroom, vomiting bile. He got into the shower and let the water pour over him. He felt dirtied and the water from the 224

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shower, although it removed the blood, did nothing to remove the stain of her madness.

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Chapter 14 Monday, November 22, 2010

He'd been home for three days. His mother was far worse than he had feared. Most of the staff stayed away at Henry's direction. She'd go from demure to animalistic in seconds flat and nothing specific seemed to trigger it. Dylan got out of the shower and draped a towel around his hips. He couldn't deal with her any more. He had to get away. He wanted to see Taj more than anything, but if he saw him, he didn't know what he would do. His heart ached so badly he felt like the walking dead. Even the act of braiding his hair reminded him of his lover's gentle touch. Pulling his hair back off his face, he roughly braided his hair in a tight plait. Dylan needed a release and there was only one thing he could do. Grabbing his keys, he walked into his bedroom and went straight to the closet. Grabbing the corner of the carpet in the farthest corner, he pulled it back then lifted out a segment of the floor to reveal a chest hidden in the floor. He pulled the chest free and replaced the flooring and carpet, unlocked the chest, and took out his leathers. He hadn't needed these in quite awhile, but he 226

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loved the feeling and smell of the heavy leather. They always smelled clean and felt like a second skin, armor, when he put them on. They allowed him to temporarily become someone else, someone who was free. Slipping on the black T-shirt with the neon yellow tiger stripes, he became a different person, a free person. He pulled on the skintight leather pants and smiled, feeling how the leather moved with him. Tying a bandana around his head, with the knot in the back at the base of his skull, he added a leather hair glove over the top of the thick plait running down his back. The polished heavy leather of his black biker boots completed the look as he laced them tight, pulling the leather pants down over the top of the boots. Lastly, the black leather jacket, with silver chains on the pockets and a golden dragon embroidered across the back. He stroked the golden dragon lovingly, and without a backward glance he headed out of the room. He needed to ride, to get rid of at least some of the pent-up stress. He walked down to the main level of the house and out the back, to the garage. He had long ago made a deal with Henry. Henry would be his confidant and would take care of his escape, and Dylan promised to call Henry before he did anything. Dylan had promised, and Henry had always kept Dylan's secret. In the garage, Dylan walked past the cars to the far 227

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corner and pulled off the dust cloth, revealing his liberation, a black and gold two-wheeled embodiment of freedom: a high performance racing motorcycle, a Yamaha YZF R1, custom built with more speed than any street motorcycle could safely handle. Dylan loved it. On this, he could temporarily outrun his problems. He ran his hand over the instruments and along the leather seat. The golden dragons painted on each side of the bike called to him, begging for release. Dylan put on his jacket and zipped it, grabbing the dragon's head emblazoned helmet from the handlebars, and put it on. He rocked the bike off its stand, backing out of the garage to the driveway, where he put on his gloves. The sun had just gone down, the edge of twilight coloring the sky. The sun sank below the horizon in the late afternoon in the fall, just past the dinner hour. The sounds of the peaceful evening were shattered when Dylan straddled the bike and turned over the engine. It roared to life and growled like a wild thing held captive too long. Dylan gunned the throttle and the engine purred under his hands. He grinned and closed the visor over his eyes. Disappearing into the night, he left behind burned rubber on the driveway, the smell of burned fuel, and the fading roar of the dragon. Out on the road, speed became his friend. He flew 228

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down the highways, weaving through traffic with abandon. He just wanted to run, to find a sense of the freedom taken from him. The edges of the city loomed around him; he opened the engine up and roared out into the night. The speed helped, but after a short time, he realized it wasn't enough. He wanted to see Taj, needed to see him. He shouldn't, because regardless of how he felt, he would still have to leave, but he couldn't stop himself from turning towards the University. If he hurried, he might get to see him walking back from the cafeteria to the dorm with the rest of the guys. Dylan slowly pulled into the university commons, determined to see his love, even if he didn't talk to him. He arrived early, so he sat leaning against the motorcycle, watching the students he'd felt a part of such a short time ago. They walked around his leather-clad form with trepidation. He thought how amusing it was that clothing could change their attitude towards him. If they only knew, saw who he really was, they'd laugh. Dylan's thoughts froze when he saw Taj leaving the cafeteria with Tony and Paul. He seemed upset. Paul and Tony were trying to calm him. Just seeing him sent a thrill through Dylan. He couldn't join him, but the sight soothed his aching heart. 229

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He stood up and threw his leg over the seat of the motorcycle, and realized Taj had stopped walking and was staring directly at him. Even through the visor, their eyes had locked. Taj knew him. He waved the others off and came running across the street. Dylan started the engine of the motorcycle. He didn't say anything, just held out his hand. Taj accepted it without hesitation, climbing onto the back of the bike. Dylan pointed to the extra helmet strapped to the carrier on the back of the bike and then to Taj. Taj put on the helmet and locked his arms tightly around Dylan's waist. For a moment, at least, he could steal time with Taj. Dylan gunned the engine. He'd give Taj a ride he wouldn't forget anytime soon. Dylan poured on the speed, weaving through traffic. He felt Taj matching his movements with ease. Taj knew how to ride; his body lay over Dylan's back, molding them together, moving as one. Dylan couldn't believe how good it felt. Just for this moment, everything felt right; they were together. Dylan took Taj to a butte overlooking the city. The view was spectacular; the city stretched out below, lit up like Christmas. Lookout Point boasted one of the most beautiful, peaceful sights, and was a favorite to both lovers and suicides. Dylan briefly had a flash of them going over 230

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the edge, into the next world together. But he refused to take a coward's way out and he wasn't that insane yet. In fact, he felt so good with Taj wrapped around him, death wouldn't even be a passing fancy. He wanted to make love to Taj, but there was no way he could, not now. Dylan pulled up to the edge and stopped the motorcycle. Cutting the engine, he felt Taj clutch him tighter. "Dylan," Taj whispered, removing his helmet. Dylan took off his helmet, turned around, and kissed Taj passionately. There was little gentleness in it. His need to feel Taj's kiss consumed his reason and selfcontrol. "Taj." "Where've you been, love? I've missed you. Why aren't you even returning my calls?" Taj's voice was full of pain. "I'm sorry," Dylan whispered into Taj's kiss. "I shouldn't have come for you. It'll probably only make things harder, but I needed to see you, feel you." "I don't care if you should be here or not. I want to know what's going on. I want to know if you're at home. Is this all because of your mother? If, for some reason, you can't or won't tell me, then all I need to know is if you love me. I can survive anything—do anything, if I know how you feel." Taj nuzzled Dylan's ear, kissing his neck, nipping, punishing him with his teeth. 231

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"Yes, I love you. I'll always love you. There will never be anyone else," Dylan whispered, reaching behind him, knotting his fingers in Taj's hair. "But I can't fix this mess. Taj. I wish I could. I just don't know how." Dylan put his helmet back on, cutting off any further talk, starting the engine, motioned for Taj to put his helmet on. With Taj clutching his back, Dylan headed the motorcycle back towards the university. The trip back took much longer than the ride out. He didn't stop again, but they drove most of the night, holding tightly to each other, letting their bodies say what words could not. Dawn hovered a couple of hours away when Dylan pulled into the parking lot in front of the dorm. Dylan didn't take off his helmet, so Taj couldn't kiss him, but he'd kissed his neck before he got off the bike. Dylan didn't make any promises. He didn't tell Taj he'd call. But he had said he loved him.

****

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The sun came up over the horizon as Dylan returned the motorcycle to the garage where Henry stood waiting for 232

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him. Dylan climbed off the motorcycle and handed Henry his helmet. The first days were always bad, but this time things were worse. He hadn't sung to his mother since the first afternoon and he didn't intend to sing for her again. "She's still asleep. The maids have finished cleaning your rooms and things are back in order. I've had your computer taken to the shop. They believe the hard drive may be salvageable. I've kept the maids from her rooms, other than to remove the broken things. A Mr Davis has called numerous times this morning for you, but I've told him you're unavailable." Well, Taj hadn't waited long to try and talk to him. He smiled, despite how much it hurt. "Thank you, Henry." Dylan smiled. "I'll be in my room 'til she wakes." "Yes, sir." Dylan walked back into the house, his prison. He thrilled at the thought of Taj calling for him, but was perversely saddened at the same time. He hadn't really made anything clear to Taj last night. In fact, he'd probably made things even more confusing. The way he had left things with Taj made him feel awful. Taj was worried about him. But he just couldn't bring himself to end their relationship, even though he probably should. Dylan walked through the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a basket on the counter. Holding the apple in his 233

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hand, he remembered the day Taj had come to meet him and Paul in the cafeteria for breakfast. He'd made time in his busy day to come and see him, and had swiped Dylan's apple. Dylan put the apple back in the basket and ran for his bedroom. He couldn't outrun his problems, even on his motorcycle. He strode into his room, closing the door behind him. His room almost appeared normal. Some of the photographs, rescued and reframed, were back in their places. The computer was gone but could be replaced, if not repaired. He went into his walk-in closet and exchanged his leathers for jeans and a T-shirt, stashing them back under lock and key, safe from his mother. He walked over to his bed, sat down on the edge, and rested his face in his hands, then stretched out on his bed and closed his eyes when exhaustion claimed him. When he awoke, hearing dishes slamming into the wall in the suite next to his, Dylan knew his mother was awake. He heard her scream. With a sigh he sat up, his head throbbing. He hadn't gotten enough sleep, but despite the mixed signals he had given Taj, he couldn't regret their time together. His fingers tentatively touched his cheek, the bruise still sore, but he knew from experience that the bone wasn't 234

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broken. Dylan forced himself to his feet and walked out of his room, down the hall to his mother's suite, and poked his head inside. "Mother,

please!

Enough

already!

You're

disgusting, you need to eat something and shower. Let the staff help you or I'm not going to come visit you today." Dylan ducked back out. His mother screamed, but then she went almost eerily quiet and soon he heard the shower running. He sighed and felt his soul die a little more. He went into the library, staring absently at the books. None of them interested him; he'd read them all long ago, but he felt comfortable in this room. His mother didn't come here. He'd learned she wouldn't enter rooms considered to be his father's domain. Here, he could escape her at least temporarily, in his father's office and library. He stretched out on the leather sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. Visions of Taj had him smiling as they floated before his eyes while he dozed. He even imagined hearing his sexy voice. Only he seemed upset, yelling for him. Why would Taj be yelling in his dreams? "I know he's here. I have to talk to him. Dylan!" "Please sir, Mr Michaels doesn't wish to see you. If you persist in this you'll disturb the mistress, which will only make matters worse for him." "Dylan! Get your blond ass out here!" Taj shouted. 235

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Dylan awoke with a start. That was Taj. He jumped to his feet and out of the library before he could stop himself, and there Taj stood in the hallway. He looked fanfucking-tastic, even angry like this. Taj rushed forward, sweeping Dylan into his arms, before Dylan could protest, and kissed him. "Taj, stop," Dylan mumbled between the kisses raining down over his face, even though he couldn't bring himself to let go. His heart soared. Taj had come to find him even though Dylan had told him not to. "Dylan!" Taj growled into his hair. Dylan pushed back against his hold and reluctantly Taj released him. "It's okay, Henry. We're going to be in the library for a while. Please don't disturb us." Dylan took Taj's hand, pulling him into the library and closed the door. "What're you doing here?" Dylan asked in the coldest voice he could muster. "After your phone call the other day, and then last night's ride, you have to ask? I tried to give you some time, but I had to find out what was going on. I couldn't make any sense of what you're doing. I don't understand, but I can't leave you alone when you're hurting. On the phone, you sounded like you were trying to break up with me, but I know it isn't true. I could hear the pain in your voice. You told me last night you love me, so we'll handle it." Taj 236

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gazed down into Dylan's eyes. Dylan couldn't resist him, couldn't push away what he wanted most in the world. He needed to feel Taj more than he needed to breathe. His touch healed the ache in Dylan instantly but did nothing to fix the reality of his situation. Taj glanced around the room and, seeing the leather sofa, he pulled Dylan down onto it with him. "I'm not going to let you go. Please don't ask me to," Taj whispered. "Just tell me. Please, sweetheart, tell me what's going on and we'll find a solution, together." "I don't—"Dylan struggled with the hopelessness of his situation. He needed this man like the air he breathed, but he'd have to tell Taj everything. If he still wanted to help afterwards… then maybe he could let him help, but Taj deserved to know the truth first. Dylan would never sink to his father's level. He refused to manipulate the person he truly loved most in the world. "I have to tell you," Dylan began, trying to gently push Taj's hands away, but Taj refused to release him. "You need to know what's going on here, because I can't lie to you. I just don't know where to begin." "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. Take your time and tell me." "My mom's… ill. Mentally ill. She hasn't always been this bad, but it's steadily gotten worse. I think 237

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something broke in her mind when my father abandoned us and she's become a very twisted person. She coped for years by making the rounds in the social circles. She'd seduce whatever man would make the largest scandal to cause trouble for my father. She'd drag his name through the mud and into the tabloids 'til he'd come home and they would fight. They'd end up in bed, and then he'd disappear again." Taj gently stroked Dylan's hair, trying to reassure and comfort his lover. "She'd soothe her wounds by having me sing. Eventually, she'd hit the circuit of men again. I don't really know what she was looking for, maybe a replacement for the love my father refused to give her. I couldn't help her, I didn't know what she needed and even then, I'm her son. I can't be what she needs!" Dylan sighed, the years of feeling inadequate and self-hatred releasing in the telling. "It's going to be all right, sweetheart. I'm here." Taj soothed. "We're going to fix this." "When she didn't have a man, she'd start in on Henry. He's willing enough, he's always loved her, but he isn't my dad either. Then, when she had enough of Henry, she would start in on me. She'd call me her angel or baby and tell me to sing for her. My father never showed any interest or gave me any attention, so I was thrilled when she 238

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did. I didn't care what she did to me in those days, I was happy that I felt her love." "You're doing great, love. Keep going." Taj ran his hand along Dylan's arm, his hold never loosening. "She never really loved me, it was just attention, but I didn't care. The worst of it started the night I sang for you. After we left your house, I fell asleep in the car and Henry carried me to my room. My father had waited for us to come home and I remember waking up, hearing them screaming at each other. After that night he never came here again. When he was gone, Mother came into my room and covered me with kisses. She'd barely ever touched me before, much less actually kissed me. She curled up with me, kissing me, touching me and stroking my hair. All night long, her hands were on me while I drifted in and out of sleep. I remember thinking how wonderful it felt to sleep in my mother's arms. Believing she finally loved me. I couldn't remember ever being happier, feeling safe in my mother's arms, and loved." Dylan mumbled and felt Taj's hands continuing to stroke his hair and rub soothingly across his back. "But I couldn't help her, she couldn't love me. I didn't understand what she wanted. Back then, I think all she wanted was my father." "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Taj whispered, "I wish I 239

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could've been there for you. You didn't deserve to be treated like that." "There's nothing you could've done. You've taught me what real love is. What she's been doing isn't love." Dylan closed his eyes and sighed. "I called my father when I came back. I told him I couldn't do this anymore, I couldn't take care of her anymore. He said if I leave her and she causes him trouble, he'd tell the media about my relationship with her. It would hurt him, probably destroy the magazine, but he would also destroy my chances at a professional career. "What?" "She'll never let me leave this house. Being exposed by the media doesn't bother me, the truth is ugly enough. But we'd be outed, our relationship revealed to the world. I don't care if my future is destroyed, but I don't want you to be hurt. I couldn't stand by and watch you be hurt by her— by us— again. I wanted to protect you from her." Dylan struggling to get hold of his emotions. "Nothing could make me leave you, including our relationship being made public." Taj reassured Dylan. Dylan could feel Taj really meant what he said. "Dylan, I'm not in the closet. I don't care who knows I'm gay, I won't hide." "Taj, it's not just being gay. My relationship with 240

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her, what she's done, would be considered abusive. Granted, the worst didn't happen until I was old enough to know what she was doing. I can't really explain. I don't want you connected to any of this, dirtied by her." "Why don't you let me—" A knock on the door interrupted him and Henry walked in. The screaming echoed through the house. Dylan sighed but didn't pull out of Taj's arms. Henry held many of his secrets. The fact he had a gay lover paled by comparison. "Mr Michaels, your mother—" Henry began. He looked at Taj's frown and stopped short. "Can't you deal with her?" Taj growled. "Be a man, for god's sake. Dylan's exhausted and in no condition to deal with a banshee like her." "No, Taj, this isn't Henry's problem. She's my mother, I have to deal with her. Please, Taj. Whatever you do while I'm gone, no matter what you hear, don't leave this room. I'll come back soon. Please." Dylan put a hand on Taj's chest, looking up into his eyes. "She's the one who bruised your face isn't she?" Taj said absently, stroking the bruise on his cheekbone. Finally, he submitted. "Fine. I'll stay here and wait for you." Taj released Dylan after kissing him once more. "Henry, please take good care of Taj. He's very 241

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important to me." Dylan stood up and, taking a deep breath, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Taj turned to the butler. "Henry, how long have things been like this?" The man hung his head, sighing when the door closed. "Mr Dylan has dealt with his family for many years, but it has gotten worse with time. Mrs Michaels used to respond to me and a few others, but this last year she has deteriorated a great deal and only responds to him now. She truly has gone insane. Mr Michaels doesn't come here anymore and manipulates his son to his advantage. He's abandoned them both. When Mr Dylan arrived, he called his father on the phone to tell him he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't deal with her madness." "He shouldn't have to!" "That's true. But his father threatened him, and Mr Dylan's no match for his father, who has always been an expert manipulator. Mr Dylan's always been a good, sensitive boy. He's trapped between his mother's insanity and his father's machinations and selfishness. She's really too much of a burden to place on such a young man and the things she does to him, no mother should ever do to her child." Henry set his jaw. "I've said more than I've a right to say. Is there anything you need, sir?" "No, Henry. The only thing I need from this house 242

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has already gone out door." "Then I'll take my leave. If there is anything you need, please call for me. I'm at your service." Henry went out the door closing it firmly. Taj noticed, when the door opened and closed, that the screaming had stopped and things seemed peaceful. Maybe—maybe things weren't all that bad. Dylan might be able to handle his mother. If she really just needed medical help, they could take her to a specialist or a hospital for treatment and proper care. Wouldn't admission and treatment be a better alternative than all this suffering? Taj sighed, walking around the library looking at the books lining the shelves. He found a very old, worn, leather-bound, copy of Moby Dick, Dylan's favorite. Taj noticed the copy here in this library appeared to be well read and worn, like the paperback at the dorm. Taj took the book down from the shelves, returning to the sofa and paging through the story of a man's obsession.

****

Dylan listened to his mother screaming at the top of her lungs. She must've finished her shower and begun harassing the staff because he hadn't come to her yet. He opened the door in time to see his mother, hands clenched 243

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around a vase, taking aim at the maids hiding in the bathroom. "Mother, I told you not to hurt the staff," Dylan said, standing between her and the women. He motioned for them to duck out the door behind him. "Tammy and Lisa were in there doing their job and we're lucky to have them." "I didn't hurt anyone. There's no one here but you and me, my angel," she cooed happily, clapping her hands in glee. She coyly approached Dylan and kissed him on the cheek. "Come and brush my hair for me." In her world, the only real people were Dylan and herself, the rest were, in her mind, lifeless characters with less substance than paper dolls, and quite disposable. And, he suspected, his substance in her world might not be much more real to her than the others. Dylan followed her to the dressing table, picking up the hairbrush from the floor. But instead of running it through her hair, he set the hairbrush down on the table and walked away from her. "I'm not doing this anymore, Mom. I'm sorry. I'll come and visit but I'm in college. I can't stay here to hold your hand anymore. I'm an adult, and I have my own life." "What are you talking about? You're just a baby. You can't go to college. A child has no life without its mother. Now sing for Mommy." She smiled up at him 244

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adoringly, a smile which used to get her anything from a small boy hungry for her affection, but no longer. He had grown up. "No. I won't sing for you anymore. I want you to get help, Mom. You're sick. Please. Let me call you a doctor." Dylan replied and sat down in the one unbroken chair in the room. "Don't be stubborn. I want to hear your sweet voice, my angel. Your sweet love always shines through when you sing." She pouted. "No, Mom. No more." "Why are you being so mean? I only want to love you." Justine stood and walked over to the chair and dropped to her knees in front of him. "If you won't sing for me I'll hurt you instead, you don't want to be hurt." She rubbed herself against his legs, up along his body until she sat in his lap, then she kissed him hard on his bruised cheek. "Stop, Mother. No more of this." Dylan pushed her away as he stood up, dumping her to the floor, and opened the door. "If you can't behave, I won't visit you at all." Justine screamed, enraged, throwing things around the room. There was little left to break, most things in the room already broken beyond repair. She reached out, grabbing Dylan, yanking him back into the room. 245

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"This is about your little bitch taking your heart from me again, isn't it? Well she can't have you. Your heart is mine! Do you understand me, Dylan? You belong to me!" She screamed, clawing at him, throwing him forcefully onto the bed. "I'll force you to love me. You don't have a choice. I know how to make you hard. Your father may hate me, but you have to love me." "Mother, you can't take something you've never had." Dylan replied coldly, trying to throw her off. She held him down, kissing him, sitting across him, straddling his hips. Her spittle dripped down his face, leaving trails of drool in his hair. "You will love only ME!" Repulsed, he struggled to free himself, screaming back at her. "Knock it off, mother! Stop, already!" Dylan fought her but she had his arms restrained under her legs. "You're my son, my baby. Only mine!" Taj sat upright on the sofa at the muffled sound of raised voices. He instantly recognized Dylan's, unsure of what he said, yet the tone of anger and panic was unmistakable. He stood, opening the door to the library and stepping out to the atrium and the base of the stairs. He heard Dylan screaming. To hell with promises, he couldn't just sit here and wait. Henry popped out of a doorway like something 246

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from a bad movie. "This is the hardest part," Henry said solemnly looking Taj in the eye. "If you truly love him, go upstairs and save him, but be prepared to give up everything, your future, family, everything to save him." "Shut the fuck up, Henry," Taj snarled, and sprinted for the stairs. He opened the door and stood staring in disbelief at the disheveled woman sitting on top of Dylan, giggling and flailing her arms wildly, grinding herself against him, while Dylan turned his face away, attempting to protect himself.

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Chapter 15 "Enough! Stop this!" Taj raged. He threw the woman to the floor and pulled Dylan to his feet. "What do you think you are doing to your son?" She snarled, sitting in a heap on the floor, her eyes rolling in her head. "He's mine. He's always been mine and because he's my child, no one can take him from me. He'll always be my child." Speechless with rage, Taj led Dylan from the room, only the hands holding tightly to his lover keeping him from pummeling the rabid viper curled on the floor. Dylan cowered in his arms, hiding his face. Dylan needed him to stay calm and get him out of this mess. "She's insane," Taj said flatly. "There's no question. She's completely mad." Guiding Dylan into the first open door, a bedroom, he closed the door behind them. Taj sat down on the bed, pulling Dylan onto his lap, cuddled against him, until they both stopped shaking. Dylan seemed to be getting hold of himself. Taj, on the other hand, was becoming even angrier. "Enough of this crap. We're done here." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. "What are you doing?" Dylan asked in a small 248

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voice. "I'm having her committed. I hope that's okay with you, but I'm doing it whether you like it or not." Taj shook with anger, but his touch was gentle, holding Dylan like spun glass. "Dr Jenson… Hi, Taj Davis—I'm fine. I've a patient for you. I haven't called the ambulance yet, but I'll ask they take her to the East Unit. I'll be following with her son, a little later… She's a special case, no visitors and we don't want anyone knowing she is there. …Yes, she'll need a private room. This is a very sensitive matter, her husband's a public figure. Yes, thank you so much… I'll explain more when arrive." "Taj, are you angry?" Dylan whispered, after Taj hung up the phone. "You'd better believe I'm angry. I'm angry you've spent your life dealing with her insanity. I'm angry she hurt you. I'm angry no one in this god damned house lifted a finger to help you. I'm angry your father is such a cowardly, selfish bastard, he won't take care of this mess himself, and left his son at her mercy. She's his wife, after all. Mostly, I'm hurt you didn't come to me and ask me for help, but instead tried to keep me out." "I'm sorry." "Why, Dylan? I love you so much. Did you think you couldn't trust me?" Taj's voice was extremely soft. He 249

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wanted the answer, but was afraid of what it might be. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I do trust you. I'm just so ashamed… I'm afraid of the scandal this could create and the damage it could do to your future. I couldn't stand the thought of dragging you into this crap." "It's not going to affect me, Dylan. If you could think straight, you'd see that." Dylan's eyes glassed over with unshed tears. "I didn't want you to know how dirty I am! You were the only one to ever want me, and you always treat me like I matter. I can't stand you knowing how bad she has gotten. I'm afraid you'll—" Dylan trembled in Taj's arms, his sobs breaking free and wracking his body. "I love you so much, but you deserve someone much better than me." Taj hugged him. "You've forgotten something in all this. I love you. I don't care about the past. If you're with me, the future doesn't matter either. I could be flipping burgers at a fast food joint for the rest of my life, but if I can come home to you, I'll be happy. Because I get to come home to you." Taj tipped Dylan's head up, looking deep into his eyes. "But, Taj, your future, your music…" "Is going to be fine. We're going to be okay. I'll never leave you. You've nothing to be ashamed of." Taj stroked Dylan's hair, wiping the tears from his face. 250

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"I love you, Taj. I don't know what—" "My sweet love. You'll never have to find out." Taj kissed Dylan gently, trying to reassure him. "Why don't you go take a shower, I'll talk to Henry and make sure all is ready for when the police and the EMTs arrive. You leave her to me now, okay?" "Police! They can't come here! EMTs?" Dylan asked. "I'm sorry love, they have to come. A doctor has to determine if she is a danger to herself or to others. With all the destruction she's caused and the bruises you've got, the police can take her in for a seventy-two hour psych evaluation. You can make some long-term decisions for her after she's under a doctor's care. They'll take her to the East Unit of the hospital, where she'll be safe and get the help she needs." Taj kissed Dylan gently on the forehead. He held Dylan's trembling body carefully, afraid he'd shatter into bits if jostled in any way. "You're sure about this, Taj? I'm—" "You, sweetheart, are the one thing I'm absolutely sure about. I can never let go of you, I need you. I'll always love you. You hold my heart." Taj clutched Dylan's hand, kissing it gently before dialing 911. "911. What is your emergency?" "My friend's mother has beaten him. She is crazy 251

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and out of control. We need to have the police and an ambulance come to ninety-nine Beverly Lane to take her to the East Unit of the hospital for a psychological evaluation. I called ahead to the hospital and they're waiting. I believe she's a danger to herself and others." "We have officers on the way. I'll stay on the line until they arrive." "Thank you." Taj sighed, and led Dylan down the stairs towards the foyer. This day couldn't be over soon enough. He'd known things were bad during that first phone call, when Dylan wouldn't or couldn't tell him what had happened. But for Dylan to show up on his bike, take him for a drive and then leave; Taj knew things had to be beyond bad. He'd just never imagined this. In minutes, a knock at the front door announced the arrival of the police and EMTs. Henry answered the door but stood there stubbornly, blocking the emergency technicians from entering. "They're here." Taj told the operator. "Good. The officers will be able to help you now." The operator hung up the phone. "Henry, step aside. Even she deserves medical attention." Taj squeezed Dylan's hand. "Mr Michaels?" Henry looked to Dylan for confirmation. 252

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"Do whatever Taj tells you to, Henry." Dylan turned into Taj's side, letting Taj take his weight as though he needed Taj's strength to get through this. "Yes sir." the older man stepped aside, bowing his head. Taj nodded to the police officer. "Second floor, make a right at the landing, she's in the second door on the left. She's violent and won't go quietly. She's already beaten up her son today." "We will need to speak to him," one of the officers said with a glance at Dylan. Taj nodded. "He's very shaken up. Are there any questions I can answer?" "Sir, can you look at me, please?" the officer asked Dylan. "Are you hurt?" Taj gave Dylan a little squeeze, and Dylan took a deep breath then turned to the officer. The bruise on his cheek from a couple of days ago had turned deep purple with green edges. He also had a reddened eye, which had the makings of a black eye, and a split lower lip. "Can you tell me who hurt you, sir?" the officer asked. "She did." Dylan sighed with exhaustion, as a woman's scream rent the air. "My mother." "Well, let's just see how she reacts to us," the other 253

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officer suggested, then headed for the stairs with the EMTs following. "I called a doctor I know, Dr Tanya Jensen," Taj told the officer who waited with them. "She is expecting Mrs Michaels and will admit her for observation." He turned to Henry. "I need to know how to reach Mr Michaels. I need to discuss some things with him." "Yes, sir. I'll get you the phone number." "Taj—" Dylan whispered and trembled. "Officer, do you still need Dylan, or can he rest?" "I think we have everything we need right now. He will need to come down to the station and make a statement regarding the assault." "I understand. Dylan, do you have any questions?" Taj asked gently. "No, I trust you. I just don't want to think right now. I'm so tired." Dylan sighed. "Your adrenaline probably just ran out. Why don't you go lie down in the office and I'll be in soon." Taj rubbed Dylan's back, wanting to get him out of the atrium before the EMTs brought Justine down. "Okay." Dylan let go of Taj and moved off towards the office, closing the door behind him. The EMTs appeared at the top of the stairs leading a semi-conscious Justine, bound in a strait jacket, with the 254

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police officer following along after. She giggled inanely, leaning heavily on the paramedics, her eyes glazed over. "Come on, darling, let's go for a nice drive." one of the EMTs coaxed. She rolled her eyes but followed him placidly between the two assistants. The officer stopped beside his partner, "She's a handful. How on earth did they deal with her?" "I don't know," Taj said coldly, watching the EMTs escort her out. "And I don't care if I ever see her again. She's caused a lot of pain here." "I think we have everything we need." the police officer said. "She's obviously a danger. She attacked us just for walking into her room. Evidently we aren't real people, and so we don't deserve to live." The officer shook his head, making a last note on his clipboard, and handed the report to Taj to sign. "We're remanding her to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation. The doctors there'll determine the level of care she needs." "Thank you, Officers. I called ahead to the hospital and Dr Jensen is expecting her." Taj showed them out. "If there is anything further we need, we'll be in touch," the officer said. "Thank you again." Taj shook the officers' hands before they left. "Sir, I have Mr Michael's phone number for you." 255

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Henry said, handing a slip of paper to Taj. "Thank you, Henry. I'll be in the office with Dylan. We'll be leaving soon." Taj stared down at the slip of paper in his hand. Sighing, he went into the office. Dylan lay on the couch, his head pillowed on his arms, asleep. Taj grabbed the blanket folded over the back and covered him. "Rest, love." Taj whispered and kissed Dylan's forehead softly. Then sat down at the desk and picked up the phone. Someone answered after two rings. "Yes." "Are you James Michaels?" Taj asked. "Yes, who is this? This is a private line. How did you get this number?" Michaels asked. "I'm the one cleaning up your mess. I've a few requirements of you, Michaels. You'll continue to pay for any household expenses for the house on Beverly Lane, including the staffing. You'll continue to give your son, Dylan, the same financial stipend he's currently receiving until he's completed his degree. You'll also take on and pay for all the medical expenses incurred by Mrs Michaels at the East Unit Psychiatric Medical Center, under the care of Dr Tanya Jensen. You created this mess by not taking proper care of your family and abandoning your responsibilities. The very least you can do is pay for them." "Is this blackmail?" James Michaels sounded 256

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suspicious. "Not at all. Have I threatened you? As I said, I'm cleaning up after you. At least have the decency to acknowledge your mistake. I'd imagine getting your wife the care she needs will be less expensive than paying off the help to keep them quiet. Your butler wouldn't be able to cover for her when she kills someone in one of her rages. I'd like to prevent that. Once Dylan's graduated, he will no longer need your assistance. I do expect you to continue to care for your wife. She is your burden, not his. He's already paid too much for your incompetence." "And if I refuse?" "I'll have her sedated and dropped on your doorstep in New York or maybe even your office during your next press conference, all decked out like the crazy harlot she is. How will that sit with your agenda?" Taj spat back. "Don't you dare refuse to pay for cleaning your own sty." "You do that and it will destroy Dylan, too." "You know better. Yes, if things come out, Dylan won't be spared. But your precious career will be the larger sacrifice. His talent will get him work, regardless of the tabloid nightmare. The music business makes room for eccentricities when they come with genius like his. Not so much for self-righteous tabloid publishers. You'll always be labeled a dirty businessman who wouldn't take care of his 257

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own family. I wonder how your precious news magazine will do once this comes out." A moment's silence, then, "Fine, keep it out of the media and I'll pay for her care," Michaels growled. "Who the hell are you?" "I represent your son. That's all you need to know. You've never taken any interest in Dylan's welfare, therefore you've no right to now that he's an adult. Silence again. "I'll make arrangements for the payment for her care." Michaels said finally. Taj wasn't about to thank him. "Goodbye, Michaels. I hope we never need cross paths again. It would be— unpleasant." He hung up the phone, practically trembling with anger. How had Dylan survived this house and remained sane? Parents were supposed to love and cherish their children more than their own lives. No one had looked after his lover, and Taj was determined to make up for it by loving him for the rest of his life. He walked around the desk to sit on the edge of the leather sofa where Dylan lay with his eyes closed. "It's going to be okay, I'm here." Taj said softly, running his fingers through Dylan's hair. "You called my father." "Yes, I had to tell him to expect the bills for your 258

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mother's hospital stay. She is his wife and he deserves to know, even if he doesn't act like her husband." "Did you threaten him?" "Not so much. I didn't really have to, he doesn't know me and so he couldn't bully me. He knows this is his mess. Sadly, he seems content to pay to keep his problems at bay." "My father listened to you? I'm surprised. He never listens to anyone." Dylan shook his head. "You're amazing, you know that? I've been making myself crazy, trying to figure out how to take care of all this, and seeing only the total futility of everything I tried. Father never helped and when things were the worst, he'd just refuse my phone calls. Then you walk in and fix everything in half an hour." "Your father doesn't respect you—and you were probably too close to the problem to see the solution, my love." Taj kissed Dylan gently. "But you weren't." Dylan smiled. "Part of me is really irritated with you, you know. The rest of me wonders what I'll do if you ever leave me. I'm becoming totally dependent on you. I love you so much." Dylan hid his face in his arms. "Really, there's no guarantee that what I've done will fix anything. I just couldn't stand to leave things the way they were. Somebody was going to get killed, and it 259

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might have been you. I had to do something." Taj shook his head, "Please, Dylan, don't do this again. If there's a problem, just talk to me. Let me help if I can. If I can't, then we will find another way, together." "You're really sure you want me? I can't guarantee I'll ever be able to get past this completely. You may grow to hate me and I'll never be able to leave you." Dylan sighed. "I'll just be a burden." "I'll always love you and you'll never be a burden to me. You aren't your mother. You are nothing like her, and I'm nothing like your father." Taj smiled softly. "Come on, let's go deal with the paperwork on your mother."

****

It was midnight before they finished with the commitment procedure at the hospital. Taj sat alongside Dylan the entire time, helping to decide the best way to care for Justine. "We'll be keeping her here under observation for the next seventy-two hours." Dr Jensen said to Dylan and Taj, who were sitting on the sofa in her office. "Who will be making decisions for her on her behalf?" "We will, or I will." Dylan said, looking from Dr Jensen to Taj. 260

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"I'll list you as primary contact," she said. "My father will be paying the bills but he won't be coming here. His work keeps him in New York. We don't want anyone knowing she's here, there will be no visitors. Is there any way to make sure no one can find out she's here?" "The Hippa Privacy Act prevents the hospital from releasing any patient's name to the public unless that information is released by the patient, or in this case, the family. If you don't want anyone told she's here, then even if anyone calls and asks for her, we can't even confirm that she is here without your approval." Relief washed across Dylan's face. "Thank you. I'd really appreciate it if her name would not be made public." "Looking at her records and the medications she's been on, I can see she's become progressively worse and more violent with each psychotic break." "Why is she like this? She didn't used to be this bad. I mean, she's always been a bit different but—I guess I want to know if this is going to happen to me?" Dylan frowned and Taj put a comforting arm around him. "Some mental diseases can be passed genetically, but not all. There are some tests we can run to evaluate your risk factors. In any case, I'd like to have you come in for some counseling sessions. What you've been through, 261

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Dylan, what you've been dealing with, needs to be addressed." Dylan looked at Taj, who gave him a gentle squeeze and nodded his head in agreement with Dr Jensen. "Well, you both seem to agree, so I guess you must be right. Although I'd rather not. I don't know how talking about my personal life with a stranger will help anything." Dylan wrapped his arms around himself protectively. Dr Jensen nodded. "I understand. You may not realize that all dysfunctional families impose a rule of silence on their members. It's natural that you'd be uncomfortable breaking that rule, but you've seen for yourself how much damage it's already done to you and your mother." "Love, you've been holding these secrets and trying so hard to do this all on your own for so long. You need to talk about it." Taj reassured him gently. "If you want, I'll even come with you." "Will you be my doctor?" Dylan asked. "If you would like me to," the doctor said with a smile. "Or I can recommend several very good doctors." Dr Jensen smiled. "I'd rather talk to you. I mean, you're already taking care of my mother and Taj trusts you." "Good. Why don't you give my receptionist a call 262

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tomorrow and we can set up an appointment? I'm going to be honest with you, Dylan, your mother will probably transition from here to a full-care facility for several months to a year, depending upon how she responds to therapy and medication. If all goes well, she'll probably be placed in a group facility with twenty-four-hour care to supervise her. I doubt very much she will ever be able to be on her own." "Thank you for your help," Dylan said, stifling a yawn. "I appreciate everything you're doing for us and for keeping a lid on this. I realize the media won't be kept away forever, but do I appreciate it." "On that note, I think we need to go home." Taj smiled, helping Dylan to his feet. Dylan hadn't wanted to go home or stay at the dorm, so after a brief stop to pack a bag with a few necessities, Taj took him to a room at the hotel where they had first made love; a nice, ordinary room, not his father's elaborate suite. Taj sat in bed with Dylan lying alongside him, his head in Taj's lap. "Dylan," he said tentatively, "How about a fresh start?" "What do you mean?" "You never had any choice about what you did, who you were. It's time for that to change. I believe you 263

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can make yourself into anything or anyone you want. The little boy whose mother abused him is gone now. Starting today, the new Dylan who has everything to live for, a lover who adores him and friends who care about him, can make anything of his life he wants. What do you think?" "That'd be nice. I'd love to just leave it there at the house." Dylan smiled dreamily, his eyes half closed. "To just forget everything and be a whole new person. Maybe I don't need to sing. I can be in the library, maybe…" Dylan fell asleep in Taj's lap, a small smile gracing his lips. He slept soundly, comforted by Taj's sure hands stroking his hair. "I'll make it come true for you, Dylan. Someday, I promise. All this will be nothing more than a bad dream. I'll find a way for you to be happy." Taj smiled down at the man who'd somehow become the most important person in his life. He began to hum softly, a song, their song. "Tears in Heaven."

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Chapter 16 Wednesday November 24, 2010

Taj woke alone and suffered a moment of panic. The sound of running water reassured him Dylan could be found close by. The holiday weekend gave the two of them some respite from school and a chance to assimilate recent events. Once classes resumed after the Thanksgiving holiday, things were going to get really busy for both of them. There would be final exams, last minute projects, and the Winter Concert Tour, all looming nearer. Taj would play a major role in ensuring the success of the concert, but he'd also need to keep a close eye on Dylan to make sure he didn't get neglected in the rush of the season. Taj climbed out of bed and groaned. He had slept in his clothes, and no matter what he did, they'd look slept in. Of course, Dylan's were no better, lying in a wrinkled heap on the floor. They hadn't taken the time to take off their clothes the night before, simply fallen onto the bed in each other's arms and slept like the dead. At least they'd packed a clean shirt and underwear when they'd stopped at the dorm. Taj stumbled into the bathroom, stunned at the sight before him. Dylan stood in the glass walled shower with 265

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the hot water pounding on his back, his head tipped back in apparent relaxation. "Dylan?" "Yes?" "You okay?" "Fine. I'll be out in a bit." Taj debated going in and joining his lover but thought Dylan might need some time with his thoughts. After what happened with Dylan's mother, Taj didn't want to push him; no matter how much he wanted to show his love, it might be better to just give Dylan some time and be there for him. He went back to the bed and grabbed the remote for the television, flipping through the channels without really paying attention, trying to get his morning wood to behave. "It's all yours." Dylan smiled shyly, the towel draped low around his hips tenting around his erection. Taj's mouth dropped open at the double entendre. "It is? Cool!" Taj rose from the bed and held Dylan against him, getting his clothes damp. "I'm trying to be good here, Dylan. But you're making it really hard." Dylan kissed him. "Who said I wanted you to be good? I need to feel you. To know you still want me, even after that horror show." Taj took Dylan's hand and held it against the bulge 266

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in his pants. "Does this feel like I don't want you? Of course, I want you. You're so beautiful and I need you so badly. I just don't want to hurt you." Taj ran his fingers down along Dylan's face, "You mean more to me than just a way to relieve the ache in my jeans." He leaned in and kissed him, filling the kiss with his love. Dylan's arms wrapped around his neck as he deepened the kiss, matching Taj's passion. Dylan drew Taj back with him until his legs hit the bed. He sat down abruptly, pulling Taj along and losing his towel in the process. Taj tumbled into bed alongside him with a groan. "Make me forget. I just want you. Please, Taj." Dylan whispered looking up into Taj's eyes. "Okay, love. You will tell me if—" "Stop thinking and love me," Dylan growled, kissing Taj hard. Taj responded to the kiss with passion, their tongues dueling, tasting, touching. Taj reached between them, palming Dylan, stroking the length of his cock. Dylan arched into Taj, grinding against his hand. Dylan reached for Taj's shirt, giving it a sharp yank. "You're wearing too many clothes," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Taj pulled back off the bed and stripped off his shirt and jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile alongside Dylan's. 267

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Wiggling his hips, Dylan waved his hard cock at Taj then drew up his feet until his heels practically kissed his ass and let his knees fall to the side. "God, what a gorgeous sight" Taj let his lecherous gaze devour every bare inch of Dylan's body while he dug through their duffel bag on the chair by the door until he found the bottle of lube, then joined his lover on the bed. "I love you so much, Dylan." Taj stroked his fingers down Dylan's arm, which had wound around Taj to rest on his hip. Closing in for a slow, sensuous kiss, he took control of his lover. If they were going to do this, then they would make love slowly, gently, filled with all the caring in his heart. He began kissing and caressing down Dylan's neck, nipping and tasting. He nuzzled along his collarbone, his prickly growth of whiskers teasing the tender flesh, making his way to Dylan's small pink nipples. He rasped his cheek against them, raising his nips to attention. "Aren't these pretty," Taj whispered. Dylan's skin was more luscious than any dessert. He sucked gently at the tender buds, eliciting a soft moan from Dylan. Taj continued to kiss his way down across Dylan's stomach, pausing to rim his tongue around Dylan's bellybutton, drawing his fingers though the dusting of golden curls which adorned his groin. Taj grasped the cock bobbing in front of him. He stroked Dylan gently, running his fingers 268

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along the vein throbbing with each beat of his heart, achingly calling to Taj for attention. Taj started at the bottom of the cock, raining kisses slowly up the length, following the direction of the heartbeat pounding in the vein until he reached the deep red head. He lazily lapped around the glans, paying special attention to the underside, then coming up the crease to the tip. He placed a soft, breathy kiss to the tip before dipping his head and engulfing the cock to the base, feeling it bump against the back of his throat. Taj swallowed around the cock, burying his nose in his lover's curls, enjoying the tickle of the soft hair. Dylan fisted the sheets of the bed, calling out Taj's name as Taj began to suck and bob his head. Taj's tongue danced along his length on the down stroke to suck hard as he arose. Taj lifted his mouth off Dylan… "Dylan can I… without a condom?" Taj asked, looking into his lover's eyes. He wanted his lover to feel every inch of Dylan rubbing against him. To be joined with nothing between them. "Yes, god yes! I need you, Taj." Taj picked up the lube and opened the bottle, pouring out the cool liquid and liberally slicking his aching steel. Taj sank back over Dylan's cock, his lips and tongue working his erection. Taj sucked hard on the up 269

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stroke, sliding first one lubed finger into Dylan, working the tight muscle, followed quickly by a second and third. He sought the nub, the hot spot that would light up Dylan's world. His efforts were rewarded with a scream of pure bliss when he found and diligently stroked Dylan to his release. Dylan's jizz shot into Taj's mouth and he greedily swallowed down every drop. With a last lick to Dylan's still hard and throbbing member, Taj pulled out his fingers, lined up his cock, and pressed past the guard muscle. Dylan whimpered. Taj drew Dylan's legs up over his shoulders and placed a pillow beneath his hips then pressed himself slowly in until his balls brushed up against Dylan's ass. They both groaned as Taj wiggled his hips. "You're so tight. So good—" Taj struggled to control himself, his need to drive himself into Dylan's ass fighting with his determination to be gentle with his lover. Taj stared down into Dylan's lust-filled eyes and leaned forward, bracing himself with his arms on either side of Dylan's head. He gently kissed Dylan, whose arms wrapped tightly around his back. "Taj, please—" "What do you need, lover?" "Move!" Dylan pulled his hips and Taj drew back to again slowly sink into his lover's depths. He wanted to go slow 270

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and savor Dylan's every groan but he was quickly losing control, his own need and pleasure pushing him towards his climax. With one more slow, sensual glide, his lust took control and he began pounding into Dylan with repeated snaps of his hips. Dylan's own needs had him throwing his hips upward, matching Taj's pace thrust for thrust. Dylan's hands slipped down from the sweat-drenched skin of Taj's shoulders, fingernails leaving trails of scratches down his arms. He dug his fingers into Taj's biceps for leverage as he thrust harder, greedy for every inch. Screaming Taj's name, Dylan came, a ribbon of white spunk coating his stomach and chest. His muscles contracted, holding Taj clenched deeply within him and bringing Taj to his climax. Taj gave two last shuddering thrusts before his climax washed over him. He fell to the bed alongside Dylan, pulling him against his chest. "I love you." he whispered. Kissing Dylan's neck, he felt his lover snuggling into his body. "I love you, too," Dylan sighed, his eyes drifting closed. Taj's softening cock slipped from Dylan's ass. He knew he should get up and fetch a towel to clean them up, but there was no greater heaven than lying with Dylan in his arms and he couldn't make himself leave just yet. A short nap wouldn't hurt, and then they would shower and 271

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clean up before dealing with reality.

****

"So, Wednesdays at 4:00 pm? That would work." Dylan had called to make his appointment with Dr Jensen while Taj packed up their belongings from around the hotel room. They'd decided to go back to the dorm, since most of the students, including their roommates, would be gone for the Thanksgiving holiday. Taj had spoken with his mother and they were expected tomorrow for Thanksgiving dinner with the family. Taj had wanted to bow out of the gathering but Dylan had insisted he go. When Taj's mother invited Dylan to join them, Dylan had accepted happily, but only if she would allow him to sing for his supper. "Thank you. Please tell Dr Jenson I'll see her then." Dylan hung up the phone. "You have your appointments scheduled?" "Yes. Umm… I'd like you to come with me the first time. You don't have to stay, but—" "I'll be there. I'm really proud of you, you know." Taj grabbed the dirty clothes off the floor and shoved them into the duffel bag." "For what? I haven't done anything. In fact, if you 272

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hadn't come—" Dylan stuttered to a stop, his body shuddered to think of what would've happened if Taj hadn't come to his rescue. Taj came around the bed to where Dylan stood gathering their bathroom stuff. "You'd have thought of something. You're really strong. Even after everything, you can still love. And you love me. I know it takes a lot of courage to start counseling." As Taj kissed Dylan, his arms went around his neck. "I think I've made a complete mess of everything, except one thing. This. The one thing I did right was to fall in love with you." Dylan stood up on tiptoes, drawing Taj down to him for another kiss. "Are you sure you're okay with going to my mom's for Thanksgiving? We don't have to, you know. Mom would understand." "I'm not keeping you from your family on a holiday. I'll be fine. Besides, I'm actually looking forward to singing for your mom. Nothing too sappy, but maybe you can help me pick out a song she would like." Dylan actually looked distressed, and Taj hoped he wasn't going to the family celebration just to humor him. "Dylan, are you all right?" "Yes, just a bit—" He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I've always had to worry about my mother. Now 273

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she's taken care of, and I don't have to deal with her, I—I guess I feel a little lost." "You're not lost, love. You're free." "Yeah, I guess I am." Dylan smiled. "It's a new feeling, but I think I'm going to like it." "Do you need to get anything from the house? We can stop over there before going back to the dorm." "No. I'd be happy never to return to that place. The only room I ever liked was the library." "So how about we get our own place next semester? Freshmen are usually required to live in the dorm the first year, but I bet we can get Dr Browne to get you permission to live off campus." "You think he would do that for me?" Dylan beamed, his eyes lighting up at the idea of his own place. "I'm sure he'd be happy to help, as long as your grades are good. Wouldn't it be cool to have our own place?" "I think that's a great idea. You think we could get a condo? Maybe one with a touch of the industrial, modern feeling…" Dylan's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, I wonder if Paul would help us decorate." "I'm sure he'd be thrilled you asked his opinion." "We would have to have our own library. I want to keep the books, you know. I don't really care what happens 274

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to the rest, but I want the library." "It'll be our place, yours and mine." "Yes! I mean, only if you want to," Dylan hedged, looking down so Taj wouldn't see the fear of rejection in his eyes. "I can hardly wait." Taj grinned and nuzzled Dylan's neck, placing little kisses along his jaw until Dylan tipped his head back for a soul-searing kiss.

****

Going back to school after the holiday break felt surreal. Everything picked up right where it left off, as though nothing had happened. Life went on, regardless of the insanity that had surrounded Dylan's life. He couldn't figure out why that bothered him so much. He attended his classes, went to his counseling sessions, talked with friends, everything just kept on going on. Through it all, Dylan and Taj checked the rentals and real estate pages for their perfect condo, but so far it had eluded them. "Ben's being discharged today," Taj said as they walked across campus after his afternoon class. "Cool. Do you think he'll come by the dorm?" "I'd put money on it, " Taj laughed, "I think he's determined to make things work with James. When I talked 275

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to him on the phone before class, he said he wanted to enroll for spring semester. Probably not a full load, but he wants to come back as soon as he can." "Do you think he's ready?" Dylan asked. "I hope so. I think if he goes slow and continues with his counseling, he'll be all right." "Do you think there's anything we can do to help?" "Give him room and treat him normally. I think the worst thing we could do is make him feel different." Taj put an arm around Dylan's shoulders. "Thank you for wanting to help my friend. I know you didn't get to know him, but I appreciate the support." As they passed the cafeteria, they saw Tony and Paul, who seemed to be arguing. "—but the fur lined ones would be more comfortable and the point isn't to—" "Hey guys," Dylan said, coming up behind the pair. "Dylan, tell Paul fur lined handcuffs would be better than the regular ones. I mean, the point is restriction, not injury." Tony shoved Paul in front of him when Paul tried to put an arm around him. "I-I've never done anything with handcuffs, so I wouldn't know." Dylan stammered embarrassed by the conversation. "See, I told you they aren't into toys." Paul turned 276

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around, walking backwards, grinning at Tony before turning around and falling into step again beside Tony. "Ben's out," Taj said. "Really?" Paul asked. "That's great! Is he coming to visit?" He winked at Tony. "I haven't gotten to tell him all about us." Tony rolled his eyes as they got on the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor. "I'm sure he'll be over one of these days," Taj said. "It will be nice to see him and have everyone together again." Paul took Tony's hand when the door opened and they headed down to Paul's room while Taj and Dylan moved off towards Dylan's room. They had swapped rooms after the holidays, giving both couples a bit more privacy. When Taj and Dylan reached their room, they saw a note taped to the door telling Taj he had a package waiting for him in the dorm mother's apartment. "Did you order something?" Taj asked Dylan, waiting for him to unlock the door. "No. I'm guessing you didn't, either." "Nope. I have no idea." Taj frowned at the slip of paper, dropping his backpack onto his desk. "I guess I'd better go down and get it." Taj kissed Dylan and headed back down to the first floor. Moments later, Dylan was startled by a knock at the 277

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door. "Did you forget your key? Oh, hello, Ben." Ben smiled uncertainly. "Is Taj here? Paul said he had moved in with you." "No—I mean, he isn't here now, but he did move in. Come on in, he'll be right back. He ran down to get a package left for him downstairs." Dylan smiled at Ben warmly and stepped back in the room. "You want a soda or something?" "No, I'm fine. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I don't mean to bother you." "You're not. Have a seat, take a load off." "So you two are an item. Are you happy?" Ben asked. "I think so. I know I am. Taj has been my lifeline. He told you what happened, didn't he?" Dylan sat down in his desk chair while Ben sank onto Taj's bed, scooting back until his back rested against the wall. "He told me some, but not everything, I'm sure. He told me your mom had been hospitalized…" Ben tilted his head uncertainly. Dylan decided there was no point in secrecy. "Yes, schizophrenia.

We

hospitalized

her

just

before

Thanksgiving. Did he tell you I'm seeing Dr Jenson? After all the drama, she thought I should get some counseling." "Yeah, he said you were seeing her. If you don't 278

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mind my asking, how's it going?" Ben asked. "Well, okay. I mean, talking about your problems to a stranger is… strange. Dr Jenson is nice and listens. She helps me understand my feelings and how to make better decisions." "I sense a 'but' here?" Ben chuckled. "Well, I guess I thought… since you've seen a counselor before, maybe you can help me?" "Shoot." "Okay, I feel strange. It's weird, you know—coming back here after so much has changed. The guys are the same and Taj is great. My mom's in the hospital and a fax asking for billing information from the bank is the only contact I've had with my dad. Everything else is good. Even my classes are going well." "So what's the deal?" Ben frowned a bit, studying Dylan. "That's just it. I don't know! I've tried to talk to Dr Jenson, but she just smiles and tells me I'll know when I'm ready. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I like her well enough, but sometimes she pisses me off." Dylan sighed and shook his head. Ben shrugged. "Look, I don't know if I can say I know how you feel, but for me, coming back after an— episode—is awkward. I really watch myself closely and I 279

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kind of wait for the next thing to happen. I end up looking for the drama to release the stress, to give me the excuse. I know that about myself now, part of me looks to sabotage myself because I want the release. So I second-guess myself, on edge all the time. It takes a long time for me to relax and get back into the swing of everything being okay. Feeling comfortable around my friends is really hard because I think they're waiting for me to break again. You know what I mean?" "I think so. You just keep waiting for something bad to happen because you feel things can't go this well for you." Dylan nodded to himself. What Ben said made a lot of sense. "Yeah, exactly. They tell me not to look for it, to think positively and look for good things instead of the bad things. Bad things can be self-perpetuating. by expecting only the bad things instead of the good, I'm setting myself up for failure. James says I deserve good things to happen to me, so I'm really trying to be positive for him." He smiled shyly. "If I keep my eyes on him, I'm amazed how the world seems to look entirely different. He shows me the good things, makes me think it might be possible." "I totally understand. Taj has been my light at the end of the tunnel. He's really helped to ground me in reality. I don't know what I would've done if he—" 280

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Taj opened the door carrying a cardboard box with an automotive logo splashed across it. He smiled when he saw Ben. "Good to see you, man." Taj sat the box on his desk and gave Ben a hug. "Hey, Taj. I just wanted to come by and say hi. Paul said you and Tony had swapped rooms." "It seemed to be the best idea. All things considered." Taj took hold of his box and started pulling the tape off. "So what did you get?" Dylan asked "I believe…" Taj pulled out a square of folded black material. "I believe it's the custom dashboard cover I wanted for the Stingray." Taj unfolded the cover, turning it over and looking closely at the seams. "We'll have to go out to the car and see if it fits." "Did you order it?" "Nope, the invoice has my Dad's name on it." Taj snorted and handed the paper to Dylan, who stared at in disbelief. "But he was furious." "I told you he'd come around. I'm sure my mom's been after him since Thanksgiving. "But—" Dylan stammered. "Knowing her, she's trying to get him to come 281

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around before Christmas." Taj's infectious grin soon had Dylan smiling along with him. "See, keep looking for the good things." Ben stood up. "James should be out of his class by now. I'm going to go find him. I just wanted to stop in and say hi. I'll catch up with you all later." "Okay, say hi to James for us. You going to be around for dinner?" Taj asked. "Yeah. I'll probably join you all in the cafeteria." "Good. See you later." Dylan said, "thanks for listening." "Hey no problem. I'll catch ya later," Ben said with a wave, and headed out the door. Taj pulled Dylan up into his arms and kissed him deeply. "Did you and Ben have a nice chat?" "Ben's cool. I've been feeling so strange lately and Ben understood. He's right, I've been waiting for something to go wrong. I can't remember when things have gone right like they have been these last couple weeks." "I can't promise things will never go wrong, but you'll never face it alone again. That part of your life is over, remember. Start over—a new life." Taj nuzzled into Dylan's blond hair, pulling the golden locks to the side and kissing his neck. "Yes, our new life." Dylan tipped his head back and 282

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kissed Taj beginning to believe in his happy ending, for the first time.

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Epilogue: Furnishing a Love Nest Friday, December 17, 2010

Dylan smiled as the deliverymen hauled in the last of the new furnishings he and Taj had selected during breaks from their studies during Finals Week. They had decided to give Henry free rein in clearing the house on Beverly—everything but Dylan's beloved books and his motorcycle. Everything else had been sold or donated to Goodwill. Dylan and Taj hired an older woman, Julie Armstrong, to act as housekeeper and help them with the renovation. Simply a marvel, she managed to keep the place organized during the remodel. She had coordinated deliveries and worked with the contractors, but Dylan secretly placed some orders to be delivered as a surprise Christmas present for Taj. Although they had decided to move in together and were choosing furnishing together, Taj had left most of the decisions up to Dylan, who took great satisfaction in making decisions about the condo and the décor, and he used that authority to include a special addition that would make the condo as much Taj's as his own. 284

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Just in time for Christmas, Julie called to tell him the addition was complete. Dylan grinned when he walked into the condo. "Evening, Julie." "Good evening, Dylan. How was your day?" Julie had found her way into the boys' lives as a combination gal Friday and den mother; she fussed over them and kept them organized with a gentle hand. "It's been good. I did well with my last test, and Taj promised to go shopping for a Christmas tree and decorations with me tomorrow." Dylan looked around, satisfied by what he saw. The entire physical remodel looked complete; the hardwood flooring installed, the kitchen done in stainless steel and black marble countertops and a patterned black and white tile. The carpeted hallway led to the office and bedrooms. They had a state-of-the-art computer system with a wireless network and their desks were installed in the office. Dylan had bought twin dark cherrywood desks and chairs. Matching shelves filled with their books completed the library. On the right wall of the office was his surprise gift, a large salt-water aquarium. A series of large cylindrical tanks, looking like pillars of water, had a connecting water tunnel that allowed the fish to pass from the wall of tanks in 285

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the living room into the pillar tanks in the office He hadn't chosen any fish or decorations for the tank. He knew nothing about fish and thought that Taj would enjoy choosing them himself—and Dylan would enjoy watching him do that. Dylan smiled, picking up his cell phone and hitting the speed-dial. "Hey," Dylan said when Taj answered. "Hey love, where are you? I thought you were done with classes by now." "I am. Why don't you come over to the condo? I have a surprise for you." Dylan smiled, trying not to giggle into the phone. "Okay, I'll be right over. Want me to pick up anything on my way?" "Nope, we can decide what we want to do once you get here. I'm all done with classes. You're finished for the term, right?" "Yeah, I'm done with everything too." "Then we're basically free—well until someone crashes our new place." Dylan teased. "They'd better not. At least not until we invite them. I plan on keeping the condo all to ourselves for as long as possible." Taj chuckled, "Okay, I'm on my way. Oh, Mom wants us to come by for Christmas dinner on the twentyfifth. I told her I'd ask you. Want to go? We don't have to 286

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stay long." "Sure, sounds like fun. Who knows, maybe we'll sing some carols." "She'd love that. Thanks." Taj's voice softened. "I love you." "See you soon." Dylan hung up the phone as Julie entered, holding her coat. "Has the catering arrived?" "Yes, and the champagne is chilling in the library. Everything else is in the kitchen. If you need anything else—?" Julie winked at Dylan laughing warmly. "No, Julie. Thank you. Please enjoy your holiday. Things should be just about complete when you return," Dylan thanked the older woman, who put on her overcoat and embraced Dylan in a hug. "Merry Christmas, Dylan," Julie said with a warm smile. "Merry Christmas, Julie," Dylan grinned and saw her out. He rushed into the library to check on the champagne, and then back out to the kitchen to be sure the steak dinners with baked sweet potatoes were being kept warm in the oven. The salad sat on the table. Dylan had picked up a couple of plates and bowls and an inexpensive set of silverware at a local discount store, and set them out 287

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on the breakfast bar. A four-tiered chocolate fountain sat in the center of the bar; a large bowl of fresh raspberries in a clear liquid sat alongside, with long taper candles on either side. Dylan could hardly wait for Taj to arrive. He rushed around, checking and double checking everything only to stand at the door, bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation. He dashed back to the kitchen to make one more check, and heard Taj's key in the lock. Dylan met him in the foyer and took his coat, hanging it on the nearby rack "Hi, my love." Dylan said, wrapping his arms around Taj. He gave him a quick kiss then pulled away, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Dylan, what's up?" "I have a surprise. We have steak dinners in the kitchen waiting for us, but come look at what I've done in the study. Anything you don't like or think should be done differently can be changed." Dylan said. He led Taj into the living room, where two oversized stuffed cushions were laid out on the floor in front of the fireplace and the huge central salt-water tank. "Wow! Is that a salt-water aquarium? Where are the fish?" Taj asked going right up to the tank and peering inside, then looking back at Dylan with a huge grin. "I wanted you to choose the fish. Do you like it?" 288

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"It's beautiful. I love it! I had no idea." Taj looked over his shoulder at Dylan. "I know how much you like aquariums and I actually enjoy them too. So I thought—" "Does that—it goes through the wall!" Taj's eyes got big with wonder, seeing the water tunnel moving back through the wall and into the library. "Yep, come on, I'll show you." Dylan grabbed Taj's hand and pulled him along into the library where the rest of the tank came through the wall. "Oh, wow!" Taj exclaimed staring at the water pillars and the completed office. "This is our office. I know we'd talked about splitting the books and each of us having a section of the library in our own offices, but I thought this would be better. We'd get to be together when we work, and all the books are in one place. The whole place is set up on a network you can access in any room in the house. Do you like it?" Dylan handed the champagne flutes to Taj, pouring the champagne and put the bottle back into the ice bucket. "It's perfect. Absolutely perfect, I wouldn't change a thing. I love us both being able to work in here together." Taj smiled and sipped his champagne, then leaned in and kissed Dylan gently. "I wanted this to be our space, where we could both 289

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work side by side. I always want to be with you. I love you." Taj set the champagne flute down and took Dylan in his arms. "I love you too and I can't thank you enough for this. It's the best present I've ever gotten." Taj pressed himself against Dylan and took a deep breath, looking deeply into his lover's eyes. "I don't think I will ever be happier than I am right now." "Let's go eat before everything gets cold." Dylan picked up the champagne flutes. "Would you mind bringing the bottle?" He led Taj to the kitchen where candles glowed in the dim light. Taj laughed at the four-tiered chocolate fountain setting on the counter alongside a bowl of raspberries. "What's this?" He stuck a finger into the dark chocolate flowing down the levels in silken decadence, and licked it off his finger. "This—oh, it's my own version of your drinking game. Chocolate and raspberries, but you only get to kiss me." Dylan grinned. He speared a raspberry on a fork, drenched it in the dark chocolate, and popped it into Taj's mouth. Taj's eyes flew open wide when the vodka-soaked berry hit his taste buds. "That's good," he said, "but your kisses are better." Taj pulled Dylan against him into a deep, dark chocolate 290

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and raspberry-flavored kiss.

THE END

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About the Author Sui Lynn was born and raised a mid-western gal. She loves Rock 'n Roll but can get a little bit country too. She has been writing for as long as she can remember and is always found with a book or pencil and paper in hand. She has two Cocker Spaniels who are the comic relief in her life. She loves orange soda, Dr Who, and her computer, all of which she could not function without.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=10000126042701 4 Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/suidlynn Blog: http://suidlynn.blogspot.com Email: [email protected]

Also by Sui Lynn:

Available from Silver Publishing: Dark Chocolate and Raspberries ELEMENTS OF LOVE Adel's Purr

Available from All Romance ebooks: Blue Rose

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