With Arms Outstretched

With Arms Outstretched 7

Disclaimer:

This contains male-on-male love and sexual acts. If such material offends you, or you are not of age in your region for this type of material then please leave. Of course, I don't always know who is reading, so I can't force you to leave. So that means more readers for me!

Any names, places, or names of places that are same or similar to your experiences could be coincidental.

There may be mentions of celebrities (while characters are watching movies, television, magazines, etc.) but this should not infer as to their sexual orientations in real life.

You may not post this on any other website or any other means of publication without my explicit permission to do so.

Any questions, comments, and critiques are welcome, whether good or bad, and can be sent to

Tyler Christoper, not_allgrownup@hotmail.com

Note to Readers:

Though there are scenes of sexual activity and/or mentions of said activities, this is mainly a story of love, family, friendship and trying times.

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IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN RECEIVING CHAPTERS EALIER THAN I WOULD SUBMIT TO NIFTY, SEND ME AN EMAIL!

(please remember that if you're new to me, put the title of this story in the subject box so that I know it's not junk)

'With Arms Outstretched' - Chapter 7

I don't know how long I was out. But I had a headache. Still not opening my eyes, I concentrated on my body. I was lying on a soft bed. My bed. I could feel I was mostly naked. I felt the bed move the slightest bit, but it was not from my doing. I opened my eyes. Lying next to me was my brother. He was lying on his side, facing me. His eyes were open, but he was looking at his hands, which were playing with the bedsheets. His eyes wandered, and met mine.

"Hey," Curtis spoke softly. "You're awake."

I then heard my parents yelling at each other in their room. They were arguing about me, and the incident on the road.

"What time is it? How long was I out?" I asked quietly.

"It's just after eleven at night. You've been unconscious for about three hours."

"Why is my vision so blurry?" I asked worriedly.

"It might have something to do with the fact that you're not wearing your glasses," Curtis replied non-condescendingly.

"Oh," was all my response. A silence came upon us.

"What happened?" I asked.

"First, let me ask you what you remember?"

"Umm..." I was deep in thought now. "I came back early from Lenny's party. I laid my head down on the counter. Dad came, screamed for you. You came."

"Yeah. I came and you looked horrible. Your eyes were fighting to stay open. You were unable to answer us. Then you just slept. We tried shaking you awake. That didn't work. Dad filled a mug with water and spilled it on you. You still didn't come to. Dad was crying, fear I guess. He told me to run and get mom, while he called Dr. Cinlan."

Dr. Cinlan is a doctor who works the emergency ward at the hospital. He lives two doors down with his family.

"What did Dr. Cinlan do?" I asked. We were both still whispering.

"Dr. Cinlan grabbed you off the stool and laid you down on the counter. He checked your pulse, flashed a light in your eyes, checked your blood pressure." Curtis paused, looking unsure. "He took your clothes off and examined for anything. He examined everything. But he didn't find anything. So he asked us if anything had happened to you today."

I tensed up a little. I was hoping my dad hadn't told anybody anything.

"Dad told us all about the near traffic accident. How close you came to death, how you reacted to it all. Oh, my God, Tyler, we could've lost you today. Dad said he was sure he was gonna put you in therapy. Because of the way you reacted. First the blankness, then inability to speak, then talking to yourself and not realizing it, then yelling at dad to keep it between the two of you. That's what scares me the most. You felt the need to keep it a secret. You even demanded dad not to tell anybody."

We fell into a comfortable silence. Curtis grabbed my hand and held it. I'm guessing it was because I could have died that day.

"Dr. Cinlan concluded that you were in a stress-induced coma. That made dad go into a panic. But Dr. Cinlan told him that patients never stay in those comas long. Very short time, in fact."

Curtis and I were still lying in bed close together, looking intently at each other, speaking in whispers. Our parents still arguing.

"How long have they been going at it?" I asked, referring to my parents.

"Just about an hour. First, they were in the dining room at the table. They weren't saying anything, they weren't doing anything. Lenny was here earlier. He laid here with you for a while. Dad carried you here if you're wondering."

"Sorry, I forgot to wonder about that," I said. I was serious, I wasn't thinking about my words. But what I said made us chuckle.

Curtis and I laid in bed, in a comfortable silence, still holding hands, parents still arguing in their bedroom.

"For the love of God!" I near yelled in frustration at my parents bitching at each other.

I stormed out of my bedroom and into my parents' bedroom. When I stormed inside, they shut their traps straight away. My mom was standing by the window and my dad was standing by on the other side of the bed.

"If you guys can stop yelling at each other maybe we'll discuss the incident tomorrow over breakfast! There is no point in bitching about it at this time of night!" I yelled at both of them.

My mom came up to me and hugged me. She held me tightly. But I didn't hug back.

"We'll talk in the morning then. Please watch your language," my mom said quietly.

"Whatever," I said coldly as I stepped out of the hug.

My dad pulled me into his arms into another hug. But this hug felt different than my mother's. It felt warm, and safe. My guess is that it's because I was involved in the incident with my father. I returned the hug. I stepped out of the hug and walked to the door.

"I'm not going to therapy," I said before I stepped out of the bedroom.

"Ty--"

"We'll talk about it in the morning," I said cutting my mom off. "But this part is final, I'm not going to therapy."

I went back to my bedroom where Curtis still laid on my bed under the covers. I walked into bed and lifted the covers so I could get in. I noticed Curtis was also only wearing his underwear. Don't go getting the idea that I looked at Curtis through those eyes. I'd never slept in the same bed as Curtis since I was a baby. And we were both pretty much naked. But there was no discomfort anywhere. I laid down, put my right forearm over my forehead and sighed.

I turned my head to Curtis and asked "Are you gonna sleep in here tonight?"

"I mean, if you don't want me--"

"No, no. It's fine. Just don't feel the need to be with me, okay? I can handle it. Thanks for being here."

"No prob. You know I love you."

"I know."

"... And?"

"Thank you for sharing your feelings?"

Curtis punched my arm.

"I love you, too, squirt." I said with a laugh.

Curtis punched my arm again. We laughed.

Then I got somber again. The emotionless feeling came back over me. I felt my face becoming one of no emotion. Curtis noticed the change. It must have been a huge difference.

Before Curtis could say anything, I told him I was fine and said "Good night."

In the morning during breakfast, my parents told me I'd be going to therapy after school. My mom would be waiting outside the school in her car. I did everything I could to get out of the therapy session. I told my parents I was great. I wasn't lying, I was doing well. But they wouldn't have it. In the end they won the argument. They told I was to go to therapy or I'd be grounded for a month and lose my allowance for two. I gave in, but with a devious plan.

School was sluggishly slow. Painfully slow. My friends asked me what was wrong. Lenny told them not to pry into it. You see, Nobody knows what happened apart from my family and Lenny.

As was discussed, my mom was sitting in her car waiting for me outside the school. We drove off to her office building. Dr. Randall Remon is a psychiatrist. He also a friend and also graduated high school with my mom.

Dr Remon and I were in the middle of our session, my plan was in full affect and is having it's desired effects. Dr. Remon had been asking me any kind of questions; questions about me, about my family, about school, about my friends, about Lenny, etc. My plan had been to not speak one single word. It was more difficult than anticipated. Dr. Remon was purposely asking ridiculous questions and making absurd conclusions about my life. But I saw through it. Barely. Many times during the session, I'd almost started to argue. But I knew that I'd give him the satisfaction. So I just sat there on the soft black couch with Dr. Remon sitting across from me on his armchair.

After the one hour session of talking, or lack there of, with Dr. Remon, he walked me to the door and asked me to sit in the waiting area while he asked my mother into his office and had a talk with her.

Five minutes after I took a seat in the waiting area, my mother came back out of Dr. Remon's office looking exasperated. No, she looked pissed. We took the elevator down to the parking garage in silence.

"Vous n'avez pas parlé un mot dedans là . Pas même 'bonjour'." my mom said quietly, but the irritation was evident. (You did not speak one work in there. Not even a 'hello'.)

"Je t'ai dit que je n'ai pas voulu la thérapie. Je n'ai pas besoin de thérapie." I spoke equally as quiet and equally as angry. (I said to you that I did not want the therapy. I do not need therapy.)

My mother huffed in frustration and we drove off home in silence.

"Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas parlé à votre session de thérapie?" my dad asked at the dinner table as we ate. (Why didn't you speak at your therapy session?)

"Why do you insist on speaking French now?" Curtis whined.

Curtis speaks French very fluently. Better than me. But he much prefers English.

"Yes, why are we using French right now?" I asked, choosing Curtis' side just to irritate my parents further.

"Puits parce que..." my dad said trying to think of a reason. (Well because...)

"C'est notre décision!" my mom said a little loudly and heatedly. (It is our decision!)

I scoffed. "Well I'm gonna talk in English."

Both my parents sighed at my choice of tongue.

"Fine. You are being punished for breaking our agreement. You--" my mom began, but I cut her off.

"Our agreement was that I went to Dr. Remon's office. And I did that. The agreement wasn't for me to actually pour my heart out to the man."

"ARGH!" my mom dropped her knife and fork onto her plate. "You will be punished as dis--"

"Why will I be punished!" I screamed at my mother.

"Because..." my mom began but couldn't finish.

"Because you can!?" I retorted.

That's a thing with my parents. They hate it when they want to punish us when there is actually no reason to. They hate it because there were punished for no reasons when there growing up, and they don't want to be like their parents.

My mom and I were staring at each other now. We were both sitting straight-backed in out chairs, plates in front of us, utensils down, frustration etched on both our faces, both waiting for the other to cave.

"Fine! You will not be punished but only because I am nothing like my mother!"

My mom slid her chair out from the table, bent down, grabbed her stilettos off the floor beside her, grabbed her jacket off an extra chair and walked upstairs. My dad sighed. I looked at him. He made to say something, but nothing came out.

"I'll go apologize," I said getting out of my chair. "But I will not be punished."

I ascended the stairs and into my parent's bedroom. But my mother was not in there. I went across my bedroom to my parents' office. She was there sitting at the desk writing notes in patients' files. I went around the desk and sat on the padded arm of the chair my mother sat in.

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. I over-reacted. I should have realized that trauma patients experience fatigue the way you did sometimes. Especially after the amount of time you had an adrenaline rush. I shouldn't have forced the therapy on you. You could have spent the afternoon with your friends."

"I love you, woman."

My mom laughed. "I love you, too, baby."

After dinner, my dad called that major hunk Shane over to our house to discuss business. Shane was promoted as supervisor of... something. I don't know what it was. But he was still sexy as ever.Â

"Tyler. Is that you, boy? You have grown!" Shane said as he came through the front door, carrying his daughter in her car seat.

Yeah, Shane doesn't knock or ring the door bell anymore. My dad told Shane that he doesn't have to anymore.

My mom grabbed Jacquelyn, Shane's one-year-old daughter, and brought her to the living room to play. Shane came over and pulled me into a hug. Shane has come to think of Curtis and I as nephews. I don't think of Shane as an uncle because then I'd feel wrong for liking him. And Shane's muscles were still nice and firm...

"You... are becoming a man too fast," Shane said as he released his hold on me.

Francis called and asked if I wanted to go over. He said there was a couple of the guys going there. I agreed. After I did what little homework I had, my mom dropped me off, while my dad did some paperwork for his company.

When I got to Francis' house, there was Lenny, John, Kevin, Danny and Steve. John and Danny were playing some two-player basketball video game on the Nintendo GameCube. Lenny, Kevin, Steve and Francis were watching a DVD on Francis' computer. I went over and it was Lara Croft. I watched it with them.

School finished after that week. Our last homework assignments were given out on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday were test days. Thursday after school, Lenny and I cleaned out our lockers. Friday, Lenny and I finished our tests faster than most. We rushed out the doors, exhilarated beyond belief for the beginning of our summer break.

"We should sleep at your house tonight," Lenny suggested as we both ran for our homes.

I readily agreed. When we got to my house, I sent a text message to my mom telling her about Lenny.

I was slicing an orange as Lenny was eating a banana when my cell phone rang.

"Hello, is this Tyler?"

"Yes, who is this, may I ask?"

"Oh, hi, Tyler. This is Nicholas' aunt Natasha."

"Oh, right. I remember you, Mrs. Zanders."

"Well, my family and I are taking Nicky out to our cabin again. I remember I promised you I'd take you along as well."

"Oooh, ask Ty if Lenny wants to go as well," I heard Nick say to his aunt in the background.

"Lenny would love to come," I told Natasha kindly.

"Well, I'd have to ask both of your parents first before picking you up. I understand both your parents work?" Natasha asked.

"Actually, my mom just pulled into the driveway. I'll hand her the phone."

My mom came through the door, so I gave her the phone.

"Dude, have your mom call this number. It's Nick's aunt. She said they can take us to their cabin," I said writing down Natasha's phone number that appeared on my caller ID.

Lenny used our landline to call his parents. My mom talked to Mrs. Zanders for quite a while, using my cell phone minutes. After complaining about the minutes usage, my mom bid Mrs. Zanders goodbye with her approval for me to go. Aunt Mags hesitantly agreed for Lenny to go. Lenny dashed home for swimming trunks, a towel, and a change of clothes. Within an hour, Mr. Zanders had arrived outside my house with his family, along with Nick.

"Everyone, you remember Ty? Well, the new one is Lenny," Nick introduced as Lenny and I climbed into the SUV.

"Ty," Scott greeted holding his hand out for a handshake. "Good to see ya."

"Hey, Scotty-boy!" I shook his hand.

The nickname made his family laugh, even Scott.

Scott held his hand out further past me, to Lenny. "Hi. I'm Scott, Nicky's cousin."

Lenny took Scott's hand. "So I gathered." Lenny shot smartly but pleasantly. "I'm Lenny."

"So I gathered," Scott shot back equally as smart and pleasant.

The first minute or two of the car ride was introductions. Crystal was more shy of Lenny than she was of me when we met. I couldn't blame her. Lenny is gorgeous.

Mr. and Mrs. Zanders, along with Scott, asked Lenny questions about his life, much like the way they had done to me.

It seemed in no time at all we had arrived at the Zanders' quaint cabin by the lake. We all helped unload the SUV. After unloading everything into the cabin, Nick, Lenny and I looked through Mr. and Mrs. Zanders' old photo albums. There were photos of the Zanders as they were dating. moving into an apartment, getting married, moving into their house, Mrs. Zanders pregnant, in labour, and giving birth. Before we could get to the photos of Scott and Crystal growing up, Mr. and Mrs. Zanders approached us.

"You boys have just over an hour before the sun sets if you wanna swim," Mrs. Zanders said.

"Oh besides, the lake water will stay warm a while after the sun," Mr. Zanders replied.

But it was only I who got up to swim. Nick and Lenny continued to look through the photo albums. I contemplated whether to swim or look at photos longer.

"I'm going in the water!" Scott called as he descended the stairs of the cabin.

That set my mind straight. Maybe Scott could want to talk some more. So I ran upstairs with my bag and changed into my trunks. When I got to the lake Crystal was playing with toys close to the shore, in the really shallow waters. Scott was about twenty feet fro Crystal lying on his back on the surface of the calm water. I took my time swimming to him.

"So is that boy the one you're in love with?" Scott asked as I laid on the surface as well beside him.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked.

"Nope. When you first told me, I thought it was Nick. Then today in the van, I debated whether it could be Nicky or that boy. But then I told myself that I've only met two of your friends and that I could be wrong on both counts. But I decided to ask anyway."

"So you think Lenny is straight?" I asked, the last shreds of hope being lost.

"I honestly don't know. I think he's too young to decide. I think you're too young to decide. But that's my opinion. If you know, then you know."

"Well I know I'm gay. And I'm confident Lenny is straight."

"You'll find somebody. Whether he's a fuck buddy, a fling, a boyfriend, or a partner."

"What's the difference between all of those?" I asked confused at the terms.

"A fuck buddy is somebody you just get sex from. A fling is where you date, but it's nothing serious. A boyfriend is someone you date that is serious. A partner is like the equivalent of a wife or husband."

I thought about it all. All sorts of different kinds of relationships you could have with people. I'd never really thought about gay relationships. I mean, I've thought about being in love. But not that stuff.

"Speaking of relationships..." Scott said trailing for effect. "I went on a date last week."

"Really!? With who?" I asked genuinely excited for Scott.

"His name is Billy. I met him a couple days after our last trip here. We met at the museum, I took Crystal there. Billy took his brother. He asked me out. We went out three days later. He took me a movie then we walked around talking," Scott said not loudly, but the excitement was evident.

"BOYS! WE"RE EATING IN TEN MINUTES!" Mr. Zanders called from the cabin.

Scott and I made no immediate move to go back. We took our time. We just relaxed in the water a minute longer in a calming silence.

The food was much the same as the last time I was here just two weeks prior; burgers, steaks, chicken breasts, mashed potato, mixed veggies, potato salad, cole slaw. Just like last time, it was delicious.

We'd just finished eating and just sitting at the table relaxing when Nick asked, "Uncle Ken, do you think the lake is still warm?"

"I dunno... the sun hasn't been down long. I suppose the water is still tolerable... Scott, you test the water first. If it's cool, you pull them all back here. But if you swim, stay close to shore!"

We all changed back into our swimwear and zoomed to the lake. The water was cooler, but just the tiniest bit.

My summer break went along quite routinely. I'd go over to a friend's house, or I would have friends over. Sometimes we'd go to a park or go to the mall. Just once so far we went to the public pool to swim.

It'd been over two weeks since the trip to cabin with Nick and his uncle's family. It was a Sunday morning. I had set my alarm so that I would wake up early enough to go to church. I lazily made my way downstairs to eat breakfast. Walking down the stairs, I could smell my mom making pancakes. We all said our 'good mornings' and I took a seat at the island. My dad was sitting there reading the newspaper. The door that led from the kitchen to the backyard was wide open because of the heat of the summer. My mom sat a stack of pancakes on the island, I put two of them on my plate and poured a generous amount of maple syrup on the top.

"So what did you and your friends do last night?" my dad asked spearing pancakes on his fork.

"Nothing really. We went to that convenience store, you know the one, and bought a lot of junk food. We went over to Francis' where we watched a movie his brother rented.," I replied cutting a piece off the pancakes.

We ate in relative silence. Well, I did. My parents talked. I didn't them any attention. I swallowed the pancakes I had been chewing, they went down quite loudly, as I was nervous. I could already feel the sweat on my palms making the fork slippery. I cleared my throat.

"I'm gay," I blurted.

To Be Continued...

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN RECEIVING CHAPTERS EALIER THAN I WOULD SUBMIT TO NIFTY, SEND ME AN EMAIL!

(please remember that if you're new to me, put the title of this story in the subject box so that I know it's not junk)

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Questions, comments, and critiques are welcome, whether good or bad, and can be sent to

not_allgrownup@hotmail.com

Tyler Christopher