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Written by Caleb Wilson

Part 4

In the last three months they had grown to understand each other's characters and it helped to draw them closer together. Like all people who share a common dwelling, they had their arguments, but they were soon resolved by the boy making some remark which left Dylan lying on his back helpless, in fits of laughter, with the boy looking on waiting for the man to stop laughing and once again wrap those arms around him.

Dylan's parents had noticed the change in him, more so his father. He no longer had time off work like he usually did on a Monday morning, and did his work much more efficiently.

Weary of the constant questions as to his change in character, Dylan finally admitted to his father that he had a tenant sharing his apartment. The fathers face broke into a huge grin, thinking that the tenant was a female and at last his youngest son had found someone he could settle down with.

When Dylan told him it was another male, his father's face dropped, but he still wasn't too concerned as he hadn't been enlightened as to what extent the relationship between his son and the tenant had progressed.

Mr. Roberts informed his wife, after work on a Monday, that the changes in her son were down to him acquiring a tenant, who happened to be another male.

At once she started conceiving ways to invite herself and her husband to her son's apartment the coming weekend, to see who the person was that had changed her son in so short a time.

On Friday afternoon Dylan's father informed him that his mother and he would be coming around on Saturday afternoon about 1.00 p.m., making the excuse that she had photographs of his elder brother's newborn son. She'd bring them around so that he could choose which ones he wanted, and then they could make copies for him to keep. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Dylan arrived home mumbling under his breath, and seeing the look on his face, Lucas asked, "What's got you so riled up?"

"My bloody parents. They've invited themselves around tomorrow afternoon to show me photographs of my brother's kid, so I can choose which ones I want, so copies can be made for me to keep. It's a bloody joke; what they're really after is to come snooping 'round here to see who you are."

"Alright, cool down and don't get your knickers in a twist, let them come and I'll just happen to be out for the afternoon."

"Not on your life! You're not pissing off and leaving me here to try and answer the questions they're bound to ask about you. You're staying here and if they don't like what they see, hard fucking luck."

Lucas smiled, he walked over to the man and wrapped his arms around him and, looking up into his face, said, "I love it when you're angry, you try to act really mean and hard and swear your head off, but it's all a big put on."

"Yeah, that's what you think. Just watch me if they try to give us any hassle."

"Come on, Dylan, just forget it and come and grab something to eat and relax. Then later you can tell me what your parents like to eat and I'll make sure I'll prepare a meal tomorrow that they won't forget for a long time."

Dylan let himself be led to the kitchen where Lucas served his evening meal while he washed his hands, then sat down to eat with the boy.

While he ate he looked across the table at the boy who had totally taken him over and whom he relied upon to such an extent. He just prayed that the boy would never, at some time in the future, pack his bags and leave.

By twelve thirty on Saturday, Lucas had the food more-or-less finished and had been left to himself to add the finishing touches. Dylan, who had finished all the cleaning and putting away in the kitchen, had retired to the sitting room to watch some telly. He'd hardly sat down and got a channel that was of some interest to him when the doorbell chimed.

"Shit!" He exclaimed getting up and going to the door. 'They're early,' he thought, 'she just can't wait to get her nose in here and see what's going on.'

Opening the door he greeted them, "Hi mum, hi dad, come on in."

He led them into the sitting room offering them seats, then calling out, "Lucas, my mum and dad are here."

The parents looked at the doorway waiting to see a man much in their son's image. Instead, they saw a slim boy come into the room with a big grin on his face and hand outstretched ready to shake their hands.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, I'm glad to meet you. Dylan has told me a lot about you."

Dylan's parents greeted Lucas, with Mrs. Roberts adding, "You seem to be very young to be living away from home, Lucas."

"A lot of people make the same mistake, taking me to be a lot younger that what I really am. I'll be seventeen in five months."

They continued to make small talk, throwing the odd question at Lucas which, if he was hesitant in answering, Dylan would come to his rescue, till the cause of the visit came into the conversation and the photographs were produced for mainly Dylan's perusal.

They spent half an hour looking at photographs and making polite remarks about the baby, till Dylan, having chosen the photographs he wanted, stood and said, "You must be hungry by now, if you'll excuse us, Lucas and I will get the food ready."

"Oh my goodness!" Mrs. Roberts exclaimed, "Have you learnt to cook?"

"No mother I haven't, its Lucas who's the cook." They made their way towards the kitchen.

Before Dylan could exit the room his mother called out, "Dylan, may I use your toilet?"

"Yes mum," and he gave her instructions as to behind which door it was situated.

While Dylan and Lucas were in the kitchen, Mrs. Roberts made her way to the toilet. When she arrived at the door, instead of entering, she walked down the short passage to the other door and opened it. Inside she saw the bedroom neat and tidy with the double bed made and a set of bed clothes on each set of pillows.

Hurriedly, she shut the door, then entered the toilet, flushed, and waited a moment before returning to the sitting room. Once there she quickly made her way over to her husband.

"They both sleep in the same bed," she whispered.

"How do you know?" Mr. Roberts hissed back at his wife.

"Because I looked into the bedroom. There's only a double bed and I saw two different sets of night clothes on the pillows."

Mr. Roberts was silent for a moment and was about to speak when their son walked in, announcing that lunch was ready and would they like to eat.

They made their way to the table in the kitchen and sat down to a meal that (for all their displeasure at the boy that shared their son's apartment, and who'd prepared the food) was past all their expectations.

They sat relaxing at the table after eating till Mrs. Roberts said, "I must compliment you, Dylan, on the meal; it was delicious, and also the state of the flat is spotless."

"Don't compliment me mum, its Lucas who you have to thank. He's the one who cooks and keeps the place spotless, he's the one who's good at everything around the house."

"And is it because he's so good, that he sleeps in your bed?"

Dylan was quiet for a moment and held his tongue knowing that it was his mother he had to reply to. He looked over to Lucas who just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'It's your problem not mine.'

He returned his gaze to his parents, "Mum, first and foremost, what the sleeping arrangements in this house are is none of your business, and second, you could have only found out by entering our bedroom without our permission. In other words mother, you're a snoop, so as soon as you can would you like to collect your things together and leave our premises?"

"I uh, umm, I'm your mother, you can't speak to me like that," Mrs. Roberts blustered. Turning to her husband, "Tell him George."

"Yes. Dylan, you can't ask your mother to leave just like that."

"Dad, it's because you're my parents that I'm being polite and asking you to leave. If it were anybody else, I'd've thrown them out."

They both rose from the table, gathered their belongings, and left the apartment without saying a goodbye.

When Dylan returned from seeing his parents to the front door, Lucas walked over to him.

"God, I'm really sorry that happened Dylan. I didn't think that your parents would react like they did because of me staying here. If you want, I'll leave so that you can get back on good terms with them."

"Are you making that excuse so that you can leave, have you had enough of me already?"

The boy wrapped his arms around the man, "I don't need an excuse to leave Dylan, if I was fed up of staying here I'd have packed my bags, thanked you for having me, and pissed off. As I said, unless you want me to leave, you're stuck with me. I only made the offer so that you can get back with your family again."

The man lowered his head and pecked the boy on the lips, "I don't have to get back with them, they have to get back with me, and accept the way I'm living my life. If they can't, then so be it."

He dragged the boy over to the sofa and started to unbutton the boy's shirt, then his trousers. Lucas smiled, saying, "You weren't upset for very long were you?"

"I've been upset all bloody day since we got up, in fact I've wanted to get inside your pants for hours. I was even of thinking of having a quick one in the kitchen while they were in the sitting room, but thought better of it."

"You randy git, I was wondering why you kept on rubbing yourself against me in the kitchen. Okay, I'm naked, now get your clothes off and let's get these cocks to do a bit of work."

They made love on the sofa as if this was the first time, and at one stage rolled off onto the carpet where they continued with no break in their love making, except for a umphfrom Dylan, as he landed on the carpet with the boy on top of him, and a slight giggle from the boy, then back to the more serious matter at hand.

Dylan rolled the boy over and lay on top of him.

Lucas looked up at the man as he leaned over him. "I suppose I'll have to suggest it," the boy said.

"Suggest what?" the man asked looking puzzled.

"If we want our love making to go past the wanking and body rubbing stage. It's about time we took it further, and if I wait for you to suggest it, it's never going to happen."

"Now what the Hell are you going on about?" the man asked, exasperated.

"You want to play hide-the-sausage, Dylan?"


"You heard."

"Umm, I'm not sure, you're kind of small."

"Bollocks, is your dick average or awesome in size?"


"Then what's the problem? I've been shitting awesome size turds from God knows what age, especially when I haven't had a crap for a couple of days, or especially when I've been constipated. So I think I can take your average size dick."

Dylan leaned forward and brought their lips together, then parting, said, "You say the most romantic things when you want someone to make love to you."

The boy smiled, "Okay Dylan, make love to me, please. You can do whatever you want with me."

"No, I'll only do what you want me to."

The boy took the man's face in his hands, "Dylan, please make love to me, will you?"

He kissed the boy on the lips then, with the aid of lubrication and instructions from the boy, Dylan proceeded to do as Lucas requested.

That evening, while they recovered from their love making watching the television, the phone rang. Lucas, who was the nearest to it, got up and answered it to hear Dylan's father requesting to speak to his son.

He came back into the room, saying, "Dylan, it's your old man on the dog."


"Your dad, he's on the phone. You know, dog and bone, phone."

"Why don't you speak English like its supposed to be spoken?" the man asked testily. Dylan went to the hallway and picked up the phone, he listened to what his father had to say for a good couple of minutes. When his father had finished, he replied "There's nothing to think about, if that is the way you want it, I'll sell the flat and return your £5,000, and find a job elsewhere." Then he put the phone down.

Lucas couldn't help but hear Dylan's response to his father as he'd raised his voice in doing so. He was really concerned that his living with Dylan, and because of their relationship, had caused the falling out between son and parents.

When the man returned to the sitting room Lucas said, "I'm really sorry, I think I should leave. Otherwise, the situation could get really bad with your parents. If I'm not on the scene then you can sort of get it together again with them. I won't go too far away, and we could get together from time to time."

"No way, Lucas! If I give into them now, they'll be running my life forever. What's more, I don't mind selling the flat. Since last year, house prices have really soared and I can sell this, give my father back his 5K, and still have enough to put down on another property - and get well away from this neighbourhood. As for a job, I could go over to one of the big household manufacturers and get a position with one of them with more money. I haven't done so in the past because of my dad, but now there's nothing to hold me back."

"You sure, Dylan?" the boy asked, looking concerned.

"As sure as you're standing here. First thing tomorrow morning I put the house on the market, then apply for a job."

"Can I apply as well, Dylan, to one of the supermarkets in case you need the extra money?"

He was on the point of saying no, then realized the boy wanted so desperately to help. "Okay Lucas, but only for as long as I say so."

"Sure, Dylan, I'll go straight over to Tesco's in the morning while you're at the estate agents."

The sale of the property went better than Dylan expected. His interview with one of the bigger manufacturers of household, kitchen, and bedroom furniture was going well until he couldn't provide any references from his previous employment. But when they heard that he had left his father's employment because of personal reasons, and that the company was Roberts & Sons, he was employed immediately, and on a salary much higher than he had been earning with his father.

They found a much bigger apartment, in the Ilford area, that was well within their financial resources, and a month later had moved in.

Dylan didn't like the idea of Lucas working, not because they didn't need the money, more because he was still a bit unsure about the boy and that he might just find someone else more in his age group. The supermarket where Lucas had gained employment was not only well stocked with food and household goods, but also with a fair assortment of school leavers.

But Dylan's fears were unfounded. The boy, when they met after work, was like a limpet. He wrapped himself around the man as if they'd been away for months rather than hours. He'd had to playfully threaten the boy with no sexual favours before Lucas would leave to prepare the evening meal.

Dylan would follow into the kitchen a few minutes later to lend a hand, and also to prepare some of the dishes. Because of Lucas's tuition, he had become other than a washer-up, more of a chef's assistant, or so he thought.

So their lives progressed till a couple of weeks before Lucas's birthday when a letter arrived on a Saturday morning from the Salvation Army's missing persons bureau. In the letter it requested the recipient, if he was Dylan Crispian Roberts, to get in contact with Mrs. Lucy Roberts, wife of George Stephen Roberts, "at the address given below. If you are not the person concerned, then we apologize for any inconvenience caused and please disregard this letter," it finished.

When Dylan read the letter he showed it to Lucas, and while the boy read it, he went to the phone. A minute later his mother answered at the other end. After making their greetings, he asked her about the letter from the Salvation Army and what was the reason behind it.

"It's your father, Dylan," Mrs. Roberts said anxiously. "He hasn't been very well this last month and the Doctor says that he should give up working. He wants you to come back to work and run the business. Your brother Phillip isn't capable of doing so, and what's more he isn't interested in doing it."

"I'll have to think about it, mum, and will give you my answer later this evening," he replied and set the phone down.

He turned to Lucas, who'd been sitting nearby listening. "What d'you think Lucas?" he asked after informing the boy what had been said on the phone.

"Nothing to think about. You have to go and talk to them and get things sorted, otherwise, if anything serious happened, you'll be blaming yourself."

"Okay, I'll go, but you're coming as well."

"Bollocks, you're asking for trouble, Dylan."

"Either you come with me or I don't go. They have to learn the truth about us, so the sooner the better."

"Bloody Hell, Dylan, I don't have any experience with parents, never having any from when I was twelve months old. What the Hell am I supposed to say and do?"

He wrapped his arms around the boy and, after pecking him on the lips, smiled and said, "I need you with me real bad Lucas. You don't how bad. Without you I'm just a drunken slob, shagging whatever bit of skirt I can find in the pub just to get my rocks off. You're everything I ever wanted in life, someone who understands me, who knows me inside out. But most of all, the reason I want you by my side when we go to see my parents is because I love you, and I need for them to know it."

He looked up into his lover's eyes and smiled, "You're a right fucking softy, but I love you Dylan Crispian Roberts. By the way, did any of the kids at school know your middle name was Crispian?"


"God you're lucky, if they had, you'd have had the piss taken out of you something fucking wicked! Okay, so what time do we have to leave to meet your parents?"

"We've got plenty of time if we leave by 4.00 p.m., that will be plenty soon enough. I better give my mother a bell first to let her know we'll be over this evening."

"I just hope your mother doesn't ask us about our sleeping arrangements again."

"I don't think she will, after the last time. Now let's drop the subject. I'm going down to the mini-market to do my lottery numbers for tonight, you coming?"

"Yeah, I like to rile up that dick head behind the counter when I buy my ciggies, he still can't believe that I'm over sixteen."

So for the time being, with the imminent meeting with Dylan's parents placed at the back of their minds, they went to the mini-market - one to do his Lotto numbers in the hope of becoming a millionaire, the other to in-no-uncertain-terms extract the urine from the proprietor when he went to buy his cigarettes.

By 4.00 p.m. they were both showered and dressed, but only because Dylan had threatened the boy that he'd kick him out if he didn't change from his track suit into something more presentable.

With much moaning and muttering under his breath, the boy complied with the man's wishes, and, when he had, was taken into the man's arms and gently squeezed and pecked on the lips, which was Dylan's way of showing the boy his approval of his appearance. He took the boy by the hand and led him towards the front door to start their journey to his parent's house.

Their progress was stopped by the boy digging his heels into the carpet and tugging on the man's hand, "Let's have a quickie Dylan. My cock is as hard as rock looking at you all dolled up.

"Bloody Hell, Lucas!" Dylan exclaimed. "You want to ruin everything? We've spent over an hour getting ready and now you want to get your clothes off again just so that you can shoot your load."

"No, not really. I'm shit scared of your mother; she's a real hard case."

"Don't worry, you won't be on your own at any time, and if you are left alone with her, if she gives you any grief, just give a big yell and I'll come running."

"Give us another hug for good luck before we go."

The man smiled and drew the boy into his arms, lowered his head and brought their lips together

After the kiss, Dylan looked at the boy. "Ready to face the music?"

"Music doesn't worry me, it's your mum that does. Okay, let's do it," and they made their way out of the apartment.

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