Page 25 of Say Uncle

I didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Cass sat on my other side and added his arms to the hug. The heat of his body warmed me like a safe cocoon, and that’s exactly how I felt sandwiched between them, safe and warm. They didn’t say a word as I drained all the tears from my eyes, and when they were finally dry and burning, I closed my eyes and sank against Cass’s chest.

“You’ll know when you’re ready,”Sam had said to me.

I’m ready.

“You’re really fucking pushing it, boy. Ain’t no son of mine gonna suck cock! Do you think you can just flit through life on a whim, snapping pictures and doing as you please? That’s not how the world works, son.Not that it matters, because you’re no longer my son. Pack your shit and get the fuck out.”

I expected this, knew that I would end up here, but it didn’t diminish how badly it hurt.

“And you can leave your car keys and your phone behind!” he continued, hurling insults at my back as I walked away.

Even with my door shut, I could hear him and my stepmother arguing.

“John, how could you? He’s just a boy.”

“Just a boy? He’s old enough to suck a grown man’s dick, so he must be old enough to support himself from now on. Maybe he can ask his boyfriend for money.”

I don’t have a fucking boyfriend, dickhead. Not that he’d ever been interested enough to ask.

“Do not even speak to me. I have nothing to say to you right now,” Allison spat. “Is that what you think of gay men? Is that what you think of my brother?”

“I don’t give a good goddamn about your brother. I only care about my son and the influence he’s had on him. Obviously, he put that nonsense in his head.”

“It’s not a contagious fucking disease, John! It doesn’t work that way.”

She slammed her bedroom door, making the wall between our rooms rattle. At least I had one ally in this house, not that it made much difference. Filling a duffel bag with clothes and shoes, I grabbed my toiletries, a couple of CDs and books, and my camera,and took one last look around my room. This would probably be the last time I ever saw it. Silently, I slipped out the front door and started the long seven-mile hike to Sam’s house. By the time the sun began setting, I had come full circle, back on his couch again, surrounded by the loving arms of the only people who cared and supported me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Nicky was overly attentive over the next two days. He stuck to my ass like glue. Cass tried to give me space, as did Sam, and I wasn’t sure if that was what I needed or not, but I felt better just knowing they were there.

Another thing I noticed? Nicky was very handsy. He was just an affectionate guy by nature, and I knew from observing him that he was constantly horny, like every second of the day. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me. Maybe because we were becoming closer and he felt safe with me? I wasn’t sure what the reason was, but one thing I did know was that I didn’t mind at all.

I liked the way his touch felt—familiar and comforting, but also, he made my dick hard. The whole game of me constantly wondering about his motives was exciting and kept me on edge. Was hejust being sweet, or was he flirting with me? I hoped both.

I was even getting used to his giggling.

On the day before we were to leave for Key West, Sam and Cass went to the store to stock up on supplies, leaving me alone with Nicky.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” I called out, grabbing a clean pair of clothes from my duffel bag.

He was in the kitchen, getting a head start on dinner. I didn’t take long in the shower since I’d already jacked off earlier that morning, but when I pulled the curtain, there was Nicky, sitting on the countertop, swinging his legs.

“Jesus Christ, warn a guy first.” My heart pounded furiously. He’d fucking jump-scared me.

“Just came to ask if you wanted garlic bread or breadsticks.”

“Uh, either? Both?”

He had his answer, yet he remained seated on the countertop, his gaze raking down my wet body. Such a little flirt. I didn’t even bother to hide my reaction, stepping out from the shower stall proudly.

“I love your body,” he admitted shyly. “We’re the same age, but you look so different from me, so… manly.”

Laughing, I asked, “Manly? And what does that make you?”

“Please,” he scoffed. “My body looks like it did when I was twelve.”

He wasn’t wrong. His chest was hairless, smooth, and flat. There was no muscle beneath his pecs. The hair leading down to his groin was so sparse and fine that it could barely be defined as a happy trail. More like a complacent path than a happy trail. Nicky was skin and bones packed into a five-foot-six frame. Hell, his mop of dark, wavy hair probably weighed more than his entire body.

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