for...
You
know, I never meant to spy on anyone. It was an accident that I saw them.
I
was so eager to leave, to go looking for my boy that I simply couldn't sleep.
I'd
hated having to lie to Dr Grant, the way my wife and I had, but finding Eric was
the most important thing in the world to us.
I'd
stepped out into the grounds of the motel we were spending the night in, to have
a cigarette. Funny really, since I don't smoke, and never have.
I
had to *do* something; the nervous energy raced through my veins; I just wanted
us to hurry up, and go.
All
I could think of was my boy, out there, maybe even alone... with those monsters,
and tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.
Anyway,
I was sitting on a low wall, overlooking nothing but dust for miles, when I
heard voices. The first was a young voice, full of joy and enthusiasm. It took
me a moment to realize that it was the young man traveling with Dr Grant, Billy
Brennan I thought his name was. I heard him laughing hard, and more curiosity
than I thought I had, made me walk to the corner of the building, and look.
Two
figures, outlined in the moonlight, were sitting on an ancient porch bench. The
younger man was curled up, still laughing, holding his sides with the hurt from
the humorous exchange they'd obviously just had.
"It's
not funny!" I suddenly heard Dr Grant say, but Billy merely laughed harder.
"You'll
be old someday, my boy!" Grant growled, but his words were laced with what
could only be described as affection.
"Jeezus,
Alan, when are you going to get off this age trip?" Billy responded,
punching lightly at his mentor's arm.
"When
you catch up with me," Grant replied with a smile.
I
couldn't help myself; I found I was smiling with them. Their comfortable
familiarity was almost infectious. I'd already speculated that they must have a
pretty special relationship, when Billy had ordered lunch for Grant at our first
meeting. My wife is the only person who does that for me. Oh, and occasionally
Eric, when I'm being indecisive, and he wants to get to the ball game before
kick off.
So,
I'd considered that they must be close, almost like father and son, to be this
at ease in each others company.
Then
it happened.
I
was about to turn away, and go back inside, when Billy stretched out his hand,
and softly stroked the back of Grant's neck.
It
was such a tender gesture, that I found myself holding my breath, and inexorably
watching as they sat together in the darkness, clearly enjoying the closeness
this quiet moment offered.
Feeling
more and more like a voyeur, I couldn't help but look, as Billy drew closer.
When
he finally leaned in, and kissed Alan Grant's face, I began to feel dizzy.
Grant
merely smiled, and slid his hand onto the younger mans thigh, squeezing gently,
and closing his eyes.
"Mmm...you
taste great!" Billy mumbled, as he sucked on Grant's ear, pausing for a
quick bite, which jerked the older mans eyes wide open.
"Hey,
stop it!" Grant grumbled, "I don't want to go for breakfast in the
morning with hickeys. It might be a little hard to explain."
"Mosquito's?"
Billy began to laugh again, but he slid his hand across Grant's chest, opening a
few buttons of his shirt with practiced ease, and slipping his fingers inside.
"Just
one *big* mosquito, with an unnaturally enthusiastic libido, and roving
hands!" Grant pretended to complain, but he was grinning, and leaning into
the caress.
Ignoring
the frankly half-hearted pleas, Billy began to suck, and bite at the older mans
neck. His hand was moving in small, circular movements around Grant's nipple,
almost pushing the shirt off one shoulder.
Now,
you have to understand one thing. I'm a totally heterosexual man, I've never
even considered doing to other men, what they were doing at this moment. That
said, I couldn't help but find the scene before me surprisingly erotic.
Suddenly,
Grant turned his head, and lifted his hand to Billy's cheek.
"This
is a little public, Billy, behave!" he chided lightly, as a stern father
would scold his wayward son.
A
smiling face beamed back at him, "You old stick-in-the-mud," Billy
laughed, "Why don't you just kiss me, and put me out of my misery?"
I
watched, spellbound, as Grant slowly touched his lips against Billy's. The
younger man melted against him. So needy, and longing, he clung to Grant like a
drowning man.
Alan
Grant suddenly engulfed Billy in his arms, pulling him onto his lap. He was
kissing him so hard now, that he was cradling Billy's head with his hand, to
counter the force of the kiss.
I
couldn't stop looking, as Billy's hips began to thrust against Grant wantonly,
and that low, desperate, male groan that signals the height of desire, echoed
through the night.
"Oh
Alan," Billy's voice was dry, and rasping as Grant broke the kiss, "I
love you."
Grant
ran his fingers through Billy's hair, lovingly stroking it back into place.
"I
love you too," he whispered.
I
prayed that I hadn't made a sound, but I could hear my own heart thrumming in my
ears. I was breathless, and my throat was dry.
My
strict Episcopalian upbringing told me I should be disgusted at the sight I'd
just witnessed.
Men
shouldn't feel that way about each other. They *couldn't* love another man the
way I loved my wife....could they?
I
stole a last glance, and found the two men wrapped in an embrace. Billy's legs
entwined around Grant, who gently stroked a hand down the young mans back,
softly murmuring something into his ear. Eyes closed, they were both lost in
their own desires.
I
turned, and tried to creep away as quietly as I could. Now I felt like a
pervert, a 'peeping Tom' intruding on something that was beautiful, and
ultimately private.
Love
like that can't be wrong.
But,
like I said, I never *meant* to spy on them, it was just an accident.
The
End