Begin Anew

By Dabeagle (Dave, The_Asmodean, Y-Wing)

Published on Dec 18, 2000

Gay

All the Nasties: Begin Anew Chapter 9

I woke the next morning with the sun streaming through the windows and illuminating the cabin with that goddamn morning light thing. Jeez! Doesn't that thing ever have the common decency to let people sleep in? Yeah, probably not. I felt a heavy weight on my chest and squinted to see Casey's head rising and falling with my breath. And drooling on my shirt. Eww. We were the last to get up, since the room was empty, and I decided that since there were no curtains I wasn't getting back to sleep, so I may as well wake Case too.

I ran my fingers through his silken hair and slowly down his back. I heard his breathing increase, he was playing possum! So that was how we were going to be this morning, eh? I traced the back of his neck down his bare back making slow circles on his shoulder blades and then up along his upper arms. I slowly descended down the exposed upper left side of his chest and teased the nipple a bit. His breath was somewhat ragged and I realized that my teasing of him was arousing me most awfully. Better cut it short before we get caught! I moved my fingers, feather light, down from the nipple to his side and dug my fingers into his unsuspecting ribs.

"Ahh, stop It.. hahaha...cut it out, Justin! Oh my God can't breathe! Can't breathe!" I finally showed mercy and straddled him staring into his eyes. He blushed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked softly and not meeting my eyes.

"Because I can now." I said, smiling. He looked back at me and returned my smile. I really don't know what happened then, but all of a sudden I was on my back on the floor and Case was sitting on my chest. Huh, guess I wasn't paying attention. The door opened suddenly and Mrs. Fremont poked her head in and a frown ran across her face.

"You two wrestling already? My goodness, to be young again would be so fine!" She smiled in amusement. "Well, if you two are done why don't you come down for breakfast?" She asked in a stern fashion that made it sound more like an order than a question. We got up and threw sweats on over our nightclothes and went to join in on breakfast.

Everyone was seated in various places about the larger cabin enjoying their breakfast. The dog I had noticed yesterday was doing quite well for himself as he moved from one mark to the next offering those sad eyes that lit up for a bit of bacon or sausage. We made our way over to the kitchen where Casey's dad was cooking and piled our plates high before joining everyone out in the living room. We talked about what to do that day as we ate our food and planned our mischief. After breakfast Case and I went hiking around the lake. The walk is several miles and it wasn't long before we were in California, since Lake Tahoe straddles the border of California and Nevada.

As we walked we spoke of many things, each getting to know the other a bit better. We talked about every detail. Well, not EVERY detail, but we talked a lot! We talked about our families, our friends and our relationship. We stopped on a small delta and Casey held my hand and pointed to the lake with the other.

"Right now, everything is perfect, so perfect Justin. The sun is riding high, the lake shimmers with golden hills and blue valleys." He turned to face me, "I noticed you the moment you walked into the gym the day we played basketball. I want you to know I have never been so happy or felt so much for someone in my life." He gestured to the natural beauty surrounding us, "This all pales to me, in comparison with you. Justin, I love you."

I stared at him with awe. Did someone just say all those things about me? Did CASEY just say all that to me? My pulse quickened and my chest suddenly felt lighter than air. He leaned in to me and I responded in kind, and we kissed at high noon on the shores of Lake Tahoe.

We walked around the remainder of the lake that day taking in the quiet power of the lake, and other scenery that is just none of your business! We came to the opposite shore and were almost home when we came across a lovely scene!

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Harry had been restless since telling Casey about his boyfriend and his sexuality. Well, kinda the same thing, eh? Now he was ready to explode. This weekend was the fulfillment of pent up emotions, a longing to be with Blair, to hold him and feel him close by. And it would have gone just fine too, except for one thing.

He sat nervously in front of his parents, his mother had obviously been crying and his father wore a mask that gave nothing away. Harry knew what was running through the old man's head, though. One son dead to him, have to pin all his hopes on the younger one.

After breakfast he and Blair had walked down to the beach and then off to a little thicket of trees where they thought they were alone. Harry had been laying on top of Blair, both bare chested and locked in a passionate kiss when his parents had found them, having decided to see what the ruckus in the weeds was considering the land was theirs and they had all boys with them, there should be no one having a go in the weeds! The outrage was clear, the hurt simmering under the surface. Harry had known the risk of being here at the camp when Blair was, but it had seemed such a remote possibility that they would ever get caught!

"We must be bad parents, where did we fail?" His father was whispering hoarsely, "We took you to church, we raised you to be a good person."

His mother continued to stare blearily.

"Dad, I'm not a bad person..." He began.

"You shut up." His father growled, full of disdain.

"But dad..."

"No!" His fathers fist slammed to the desk top, "No excuses. You...you are an abomination. You have no place in this family, you have no right to speak to me or your mother or your brother ever again!" He drew in a deep breath before plunging on, face growing redder the angrier he got.

"You will pack your clothes and get out of my house. Go find a faggot to take you in."

Harry stared wordlessly at his parents, and as the hurt was slowly replaced with anger he lashed out, "Being...Gay doesn't make me wrong, or evil, or bad at all!"

His father whiled on his heel, "The bible says thou shalt not lay with a man as you would a woman, in the goddamn Bible!" He thundered.

"It also says you can buy slaves from neighboring countries, it says eating pork and shellfish are mortal sins as well. It fucking says it's a mortal sin to work on the Sabbath, to keep it holy Dad! If you're so god fearing why are you at the office on Sundays, huh? Maybe it's not working?"

A strangled cry of rage emerged from the elder Fremont as his fist crashed into his son's ribs and three gave way with a sickening, wet cracking sound. Harry cried out in pain and outrage as his father continued to rain down blow after blow on him while his mother tried to pull her husband back from the awful scene. At last she succeeded in disengaging her husband from her son, weeping openly.

"At least I still have a son, at least Casey is normal." His father wheezed with grim satisfaction.

"Oh yeah?" Harry retorted through the haze of pain shrouding his better judgement and allowing him to pour forth anything that might hurt his father, "You better look again cause you raised two fags old man."

His parents froze in shock as Harry wheezed on the floor. They looked at one another and Mrs. Fremont moved away from her husband as if in a trance. She looked at her son on the floor in obvious pain, and then at her husband.

"Bill," she began tremulously, "call an ambulance for our son."

"I will not!" He began.

"Bill, for the love of god!" She screamed, "Call a god damned ambulance! It's Harry, our son!" She moved to Harry on the floor and cradled his head murmuring words of love. Behind her William Fremont, husband of 32 years picked up the phone and dialed.

@@@@@@@@@@@@

Grant and Cris walked along the banks of the lake, barefoot along the waters edge in deep discussion as they had been for several hours. The Nevada sun glistened overhead and made golden ripples on the surface of the lake

"So you mean you have never even kissed someone?" Cris asked.

"Nope." Grant responded.

Cris pondered this piece of information for a moment as they walked in silence. Cris had first been kissed when he was eleven by Amy Ross. She was really pretty, long chestnut hair and a light tan on her skin. It had been cool, that first contact and even now he realized that the first would always hold a special place for him. But nothing compared to now. His chest was tight and he shivered in the warm sunshine as he tried to work up the courage to kiss his boyfriend, it was all he had been thinking of for months now, and he might just have a chance right now...if he could calm down!

Grant, in contrast, was placid. At least on the surface, under his cool fa‡ade he was wondering what the day would hold, what would be asked of him in this new relationship? Or rather this new side of the relationship. On the one hand he was frightened due to his internal ramblings. He sure didn't want to be gay, but was he just trying this for Cris? What if they did do something? If you tried it were you gay? What if this stuff disgusted him? What would Cris think of him, if anything if they didn't work out? Grant stopped and looked as Cris turned to face him, obviously confused as to why Grant had stopped.

Grant allowed his eyes to slide over Cris's features and tried to gauge his reaction, what did he feel when he looked at Cris? Love? Well, yes that was true enough but did he desire him? Hell, what does desire feel like?

Cris decided the time was now and reached for Grant, and Grant reached back because it felt like the right thing to do, just like a scene in a movie. They pulled into an embrace and then looked into each other's eyes searching for some kind of assurance, each from the other.

Finally they met in the middle and kissed. Emotion kicked in and within a few breaths they had begun to kiss tongue to tongue, one sucking the others tongue in then the other returning the favor. Grant wasn't sure if it made him gay or not, but he was enjoying the feelings Cris gave him, the thought that right now he was the only thing on this other persons mind.

Cris's hand slowly traced down Grant's side until he found the bottom of his untucked shirt, then moved under the hem and slowly slid up towards the soft skin hidden beneath the shirt. Grant tensed in anticipation of Cris's touch, and then relaxed at the tender, subtle touch that played up each muscle of his firm stomach, over to his side and gripping for a moment before sliding hesitantly up towards his chest.

Cris marveled at the smooth strength and the intense heat from Grant's skin, reveling in each muscle in his six pack and the tender feel of his side. Feeling more sure of himself, he moved his hand up to Grant's chest and felt the toned muscles Ripple in pleasure at his touch. At last he located the nipple and began to run each finger over it lightly as he felt it harden.

Grant sighed in sensual pleasure as Cris caressed his abs and chest. Emotions moved him as no other force ever had as Cris's other hand moved behind his head and drew him down into another kiss. Grant wrapped his arms round his partner and moved his hands down his back and then under Cris's shirt where he slowly explored the contours of Cris's defined back, and then he too decided to be courageous and moved his hand down to Cris's waistline, and then past the belt and down the back of Cris's pants, squeezing a cheek.

Cris stood on his toes and flexed the muscles in his ass as he moved deeper into his embrace with Grant. His emotions soared as he felt his excitement being returned by Grant.

"Hey, you two need a cold shower."

They looked up, startled and embarrassed at Casey and Justin who were approaching from about twenty feet away.

"How long you guys been there?" Grant asked, a bit annoyed.

"Long enough to see that you have decided which side you play for!" Justin said grinning lopsidedly.

Grant couldn't help but smile, losing his annoyance rather quickly. As Casey and Justin began to head back towards the camp Cris took Grants hand and they too began to make their way back for dinner. The stars were just beginning to show in the autumn evening and the warmth was receding from around them. Slowly two pairs of boys made their way home, arms wrapped around each other for warmth.

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Upon arriving at the main campsite they found the mood altered quite a bit. Blair was seated on the front porch of the cabin staring off in to the distance, flanked by Chris and Kyle. Harry was gone, he informed them, and so was Mr. Fremont, and Mrs. Fremont wasn't happy although he wasn't allowed to say just why that was. Mrs. Fremont looked more disheveled than anyone could ever remember seeing her. She was like June Cleaver, never a hair out of place, always in a housedress to do dusting. Not that she did the maids work.

"Mom?" Casey began, "Mom what's wrong? Are you ok?"

She rose from the couch slowly and allowed her son to hug her and she returned that embrace with as much emotion as she was able. Tears stood in her eyes as she asked the group to give her a few minutes with her son. They trudged in silence out onto the front porch to wait. Mrs. Fremont slowly crossed the room to stand in front of the fireplace, nerves showing how frayed she was.

Casey stood nervously shifting from foot to foot wanting to ask his mother why she was so obviously upset, where Harry and his father were but he knew she would only speak when she was ready and on her terms. At last with a sigh she turned to face him.

"When I dreamt of having children my thoughts were of someone that would love me unconditionally and I they. Your father and I both believed in that as a basis for everything else we wanted for our children. I was their mother, the only one they would have. They would grow to be doctors and lawyers and they would take care of their mother and raise families of their own." She hesitated before continuing, "Your father and I...we forgot that rule this afternoon, the all important rule. We, ah...oh my," she moved to the chair and sat, Casey moving to the sofa across from her, "We found Harry and...and Blair in the tall grass with...with their shirts off and they were, ah, kissing."

Casey stared at his mother, thunderstruck. She looked in his eyes and smiled a smile full of love.

"I won't pretend I'm not surprised, I always thought that would happen to other people's children. I was wrong. We had a big argument, huge." She paused, "It was awful. Your father and I were blind. They started to argue and then they fought. I'm afraid your brother is in the emergency room. I'm sure he'll be just fine but..." She smiled weakly this time before continuing. Casey sat motionless, fear and concern on his face like a billboard.

"Your father and I talked while we waited for the ambulance." She continued, "and we both accept we were wrong to act in such a...an uncaring fashion. Of course we love Harry and so we will continue to do so." She took a deep breath before adding, "And if I was surprised at one, two was just as much a shock."

Casey felt as if the couch were falling out from under him as his nightmare was brought to life. His parents knew! And how did they find out? Harry had told them. He was shaking as his mother sat down next to him and held him close, allying his fears and offering hope. He began to calm as his mother rocked him and whispered words of love in his ear. Slowly they sat back on the couch.

"So," began his mother, "is it Justin?"

He looked at his mother, met her eyes and nodded.

"Are you...in love...with him?" She asked.

Again all he could do was nod in agreement.

She considered her son for a moment. He had a good face with a fine clear brow. She had long felt her sensitive youngest child's best feature was his eyes, which were still etched with concern. Her heart was heavy for her child, for what the world thought of children just like him. If nothing else it had opened her eyes that anyone could be gay and also that her child needed her more than ever. She relaxed into the couch and Casey recognized that gleam in his mother's eyes. She usually got it after he returned from some outing where he might find a potential girlfriend. He squirmed.

"So!" She exclaimed, warming to the idea of her son having someone that made his heart beat faster, "I am guessing your friends already know?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, "They figured me out and worked pretty hard to put, um, us together."

"They helped you?" She asked in wonder and amusement.

Casey gave a small smile, "Yeah, I was surprised too, but they're really good friends and no one has a problem with it."

"So do I have to guess?" She asked.

"Guess what mom?" Casey asked innocently.

"Let's see," she began, "Kyle has a girlfriend and Chris hasn't been here long enough so that shoots two down. I know whom Blair belongs to. Who's left? Well there is Cris, Grant and Justin. I would have guessed Grant since you asked for extra help to get him up here except for one thing..."

"Wh...what's that?" Casey stammered.

"You got all red in the face at Justin's name. It's him, isn't it? Oh honey good taste! He is handsome and very well mannered." She smiled.

Casey felt his face flush in embarrassment and pride.

"I suppose we should start dinner, and hey let's keep this talk between you and I." She said conspiratorially.

Casey gave her a quizzical look and all his mother did was wink as she headed to the door saying something about feeding the troops.

@@@@@@@@@@

Mrs. Fremont continued to adjust admirably to her children and made several points on Casey's friends with her open stance on their relationships. Her husband and eldest son returned late that evening and a family meeting was called. The Freemont's' were ensconced in the large cabin overnight trying to work through their problems with their heads instead of their fists. That isn't to say there weren't a few timeouts to cool tempers, but at least a working plan was formed to help the family through it's newest set of changes. Well, you know the old saying what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

In the smaller cabin the mood was somber as well. The friends sat in a circle, knees touching the person to either side of them. Grant was uncharacteristically quiet, especially accounting the past few days of activity. Cris sat with one arm draped across Grant'' shoulders, and head resting on the left one. Blair sat to Grant's right, a worried frown in place expressing his concern over Harry. Chris flanked me to my right and Kyle to my left. Although quiet, the mood wasn't exactly depressed either. Casey was now out to his folks and they would support him, even if Mr. Fremont was going to need time to get used to the idea. I felt badly for Case because he had to go through this and I wanted to be with him, but all I could do was sit and think good thoughts. We talked idly about the day, about the obstacles that lay ahead of the portion of this group that turned out to be gay. We tried to understand the hatred and the violent reaction but in the end there just wasn't anything we could come up with that was good enough.

At last we turned in, but we didn't go to sleep. Hey, six teenagers without supervision were going to bed at a reasonable hour? Hello! We bullshitted through the night and one by one voices fell silent. I was alone with my thoughts for a moment, or so I thought.

"Hey, you 'wake?" came Chris's voice.

"No. I'm answering you in my sleep."

"Smartass. You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled in the dark.

"You sure?" this from Kyle.

"Yeah, really. I'm fine. Just great." I sighed, "I just don't understand why it has to be such a big deal, y'know? I mean you got the bible thumpers telling you God'll hate you for it. You got people like Doctor fucking Laura telling people that you're abnormal."

"You are." Chris said.

"What?" I asked quickly.

"Yeah man, total hellspawn out to corrupt innocent guys like me and Chris here." Kyle stated matter of factly.

I was dumbstruck until I heard the first giggle. And before I could really move I was being gang tackled and tickled to within an n inch of my sanity!

With friends like this who needs enemies?

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We broke camp about 11 am, after a huge breakfast at which the dog once again made out like a bandit. If Case's folks weren't ok with the situation they were doing a good job of hiding it. After all the gear was stowed and fastened down we all broke apart for good-bye's and, well, you know!

Blair and Harry limped off towards the lake, Chris and Kyle threw the football back and forth while Grant and Cris headed for the porch on the smaller cabin. Case and I were about to head for the trees when his folks called us over. He was obviously more nervous than his wife was, but they told me that I was welcome in their home at any time. Case took my hand and gave me a small smile.

The ride home was uneventful. Chris was in the van again with Kyle, Grant, Cris and Blair was riding with Harry. Actually, Blair was driving Harry back home, as Harry wasn't supposed to twist his upper body so that left driving out. I rode with Casey and we arrived at my house just after the van. Chris had ferried his bags to the front porch where my dad stood and I shouldered my bag. I looked up and down my street, a quiet dead end. Houses lined the south side and small trees dotted the front yards. The North side was uninhabited, unless you counted the thick tumbleweeds that grew one upon the other, well over four feet tall. I noted the first sliver of gray on the front of a tumbleweed that would seem to signify it's impending demise with the onset of winter. As I stepped onto the porch pieces fell into place for me like my mind had been working on a puzzle and I wasn't even aware of it. When tumbleweeds die they turn brown, not gray. And they break away from their roots to, well, tumble. Gray was the color of guns, of rifle barrels. I sidestepped in front of Chris quickly and hugged him tightly as the world exploded. I felt warmth and searing pain in my right shoulder blade, and my breath rushed from me. The wood on the doorframe exploded as the sound of a rifle report finally reached our ears. I suddenly felt very tired and Chris laid me on the wood of the porch. My shoulder was numb, that's good right? I could hear screaming and shouts of 'He's getting away!' and 'He's gone!' and for some reason I couldn't think why they would say those things. Who was getting away? Chris filled my field of vision with a look of concern and he was saying something...he must be whispering. It looked like I love you. And then Casey was next to him. I tried to tell them I couldn't talk right now, far too tired. Just need a nap...

Paul Taylor took aim on his son, the little bastard that had dared to stand in front of him while he had been trying to correct his cow of a wife. The child was an embarrassment, and that would end now. He sighted the rifle so that the crosshairs were centered over the boys black heart, and slowly squeezed the trigger. No! The brat had gotten in the way! He felt the powerful gun jump in his hands as a second round was unleashed before he decided that retreat was his only option. Clad in his cammy's he headed through the path he had carved through this god-forsaken weed. There will be another time, Christopher, Oh yes indeed.

And there is chapter nine. Comments are welcome as usual at dabeagle@nycap.rr.com Thank you for all the support throughout 2000, you guys have been great. And hey, to Drew who signed the guestbook, drop me a line dude I'd love to talk. And anyone else who gets that bug in their head, drop me a line!

Merry Christmas to you all!

Next: Chapter 11


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