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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Stonegate Stables - 41. Chapter 41

Levi and I spent a few hours together on the 28th, going over ideas on how he could fit into what was becoming a true multi-discipline training facility at Stonegate. He and Cody had skills in different areas of western riding, so they complimented each other as far as what we could offer with both of them in residence. We finally decided that they would lease the western barn from me and run their own deal. We drew up a simple agreement, with them contracting with Stonegate for such things as cleaning, feeding, and building maintenance.

I was still a little skeptical about Levi's ability to stay in one place for more than a few months, but maybe our part of Texas had what he was looking for - a good job, friends nearby, and most of all, David. I had my fingers crossed.

The Saturday after New Years started innocently enough. Vincent and I woke up fairly early, got in one round of orgasms, showered, and were in the kitchen rustling up a huge breakfast when the phone rang. Matt answered it, and then held it out to me, a wary expression on his face.

“It’s the Highway Patrol.”

At 8:15 on a Saturday morning? Suddenly cold with dread, I turned to look at Vincent as I took the receiver from Matt.

“Hello? . . . Yes, this is Sean Flanagan.”

Vincent put down the plate he was holding and took a step toward me.

As the officer spoke, the room went gray around me and the only thing I could focus on was Vincent, watching me intently from across the room. The receiver clunked to the counter as I dropped it and reached out a hand to him; he was there to hold me before I took two steps. As he banded one arm around my chest, he picked up the phone.

“This is Sean Flanagan’s partner. Please repeat what you just told him.”

I stood there gripping Vincent’s arm tightly as he listened to the officer tell him that Dylan O'Hara had died early this morning in a traffic accident just outside Dallas.

Vincent asked a few questions, handed the phone to Matt, and hung onto me as I sank to the floor. I could barely breathe, and I began to shake as I tried to comprehend that this was really happening. It wasn’t a sick joke, or an unfortunate mistake. Someone I loved was dead, and I’d never see him again - never hug him, never laugh with him. With one phone call, he was gone from my life forever.

Vincent knelt there holding me while bacon snapped in the frying pan and sunlight streamed in the tall windows, making bright rectangles on the tile floor. Matt crouched down next to me with a hand on my back as I leaned across Vincent's arm, gasping for breath.

"What happened?" he asked Vincent.

"Dylan was killed this morning in a car wreck."

"Oh, my God. Oh, Sean."

I could hear him, but it was all I could do to keep breathing through the pain. Vincent sat back against the cupboard and pulled me up between his legs, turning me to hold my head to his chest while he spoke quietly to Matt.

"Turn off the stove and pour a cup of coffee, lots of sugar."

Vincent's heart thudded in my ear as I watched Matt blow on the coffee and take a quick sip to make sure it wasn't too hot before he knelt down and held it out to me. When the brim of the cup touched my lips, I took a reflexive gulp, coughing a little, but it was something real, something to focus on, and I wrapped my hand around the mug while I drank some more. As the hot, sweet coffee flooded through my chest, I twisted around to look at Vincent.

"They called me because he had a card in his wallet," I said to him, needing him to understand why the call had come to me. "If anything ever happened to him, he didn't want his parents to be called by a stranger. Oh, God . . . ," I moaned. "I have to call my mom."

Dylan’s mom and Colleen were cousins, and I knew I could tell my own mother easier than I could tell Dylan’s, so I waited while Vincent dialed the number, sick with the thought of the devastation my call would cause. Luckily, my dad answered and I told him first. He stayed with Colleen as I told her what I knew. She was silent for so long that I thought we’d been disconnected, but then I heard her take a deep breath, beginning to think of the multitude of things that death required, and I knew she’d be okay.

I huddled on the floor with Vincent for a while longer until Matt squeezed my shoulder. "We have to go tell Adam," he said.

"Oh, Adam," I moaned. I had to tell Adam.

He and Dylan had been friends and more, for a long time, and I needed to tell Adam in person. I got to my feet with Vincent’s help, and as we drove the fifteen minutes to Adam’s place, I tried to think of some way to say it that would lessen the pain, but there simply wasn’t any way to do that. He opened the door, his welcoming smile dying as he searched my ravaged face. He gripped my arm tightly.

“Sean, what's wrong? What happened?”

"Dylan's dead," I blurted out.

His face froze and he closed his eyes for a moment. “How?” he asked in a steady voice as he pulled me to him. I told him, and when I was finished, Adam was silent for a long moment, just wrapped around me with his face in my shoulder. Finally, he took a deep breath and let me go. "Let me get some things together and I'll go back home with you."

After we got back to the house, Vincent made the calls to our friends. I could hear the rumble of his voice, but he used the phone in the kitchen so that Adam, Matt, and I were spared hearing the words over and over. Adam sat in the big chair by the window, just gazing out to the meadow; he hadn't said two words since we'd left his house.

Vincent came into the den when he was finished and sat down next to me.

"I called TJ . . . . . he's on the way. Wade and Cody are gone to that reining thing."

Vincent looked at me carefully. I don't know what he saw, but he pulled me off the couch and led me to the living room where he pushed me gently onto the sofa until I was lying down. He lay down next to me and wrapped his arms around me as he whispered in my ear. "It's okay to let go, sweetheart. Just let it go."

So I finally did, sobbing out my hurt and loss and anger as he held me and rubbed my back. William's death was the closest I'd come to losing someone who really mattered to me, and I was amazed by how much it hurt physically. My body ached, my head was pounding, and I felt like I might be sick. When I finally sighed out a hitching breath, Vincent began to talk to me. My mom had called to say that Dylan's parents were flying in tomorrow around 2pm, and she wanted us to come over for dinner - Matt, Vincent, and me.

"God, I don't think I can do that," I groaned, rocking forward and back.

"Matt and I will be there, baby. We'll get through it," he assured me. "Dylan's parents need to see you."

Unbelievably, it was barely noon. Matt stayed with Adam in the den. Adam was tight-faced and dry-eyed, still staring off across the pasture, and I was worried about him, but everyone deals with grief differently and I let him be.

The phone rang at one point and Vincent brought it to me.

"Someone named Ryan?" he said, lifting an eyebrow.

Ryan. Dear god, Dylan had been going to Dallas to see Ryan.

I took the phone from Vincent's hand. "Ryan, this is Sean, Dylan’s cousin."

"Hi, Sean. I guess Dylan's mentioned me? We met a few weeks ago and he was supposed to be coming here this weekend, but I haven't heard from him and I just….. wondered if……" His voice trailed off, and I knew he could sense that something was wrong. "What happened? Is he okay?"

Like a pebble dropped into a still pond, the effects of Dylan's death rippled ever outward.

"No, he's not. God, I'm so sorry." My voice broke, and I took a couple gasping sobs before I could continue. "Dylan was killed this morning on the way to Dallas. On his way to see you."

The stunned silence at the other end of the line was finally broken by his voice, deep and shaky. "Oh, my god. I….. we barely knew each other, but……." I could hear his increased respiration as he coped with the unthinkable. "God, I'm so sorry. You must be devastated. He talked about you a lot. Oh, god, I don't know what to say."

We were both silent for a moment; then I asked him, "Would you like me to let you know about ……"

I simply couldn't say the word 'funeral,' but he understood.

"Yes, please. I…… I want to meet you, at least, since……"

He hung up, and I pressed the dead phone hard into my chest as I cried again - for Dylan, and for his friend who’d never know what he'd lost.

About an hour later Danny came by the house and pulled me into a long hug. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to me. "I didn't know him well, but he seemed like a good guy."

"He was," I sighed against his chest. Danny gave great hugs, and I lost myself in the circle of his strong arms.

TJ had emptied the pantry of tissue boxes, putting them all over the house, and kept hot coffee coming during the morning, quietly urging us to sip. Around noon, he switched to soup and crackers - comfort food that he had to coax us to eat. Phone calls came and went as the news spread. I had a long talk with Dylan’s boss, and discovered that he’d been planning to offer Dylan a junior partnership the following week. So many lives touched by one death.

In mid-afternoon Adam got up from the couch and left the room, walking silent as a ghost down the hall and disappearing up the steps. Matt had gotten up with him, but Adam walked by as if he didn’t exist. With a devastated expression, Matt watched him leave the room, and then turned to me with a lost look on his face. I just shook my head.

"Give him some time, Matt. He and Dylan were close for years before they quit seeing each other."

Matt hunched up in one of the big chairs, huddled into himself, his forehead dropped down onto his knees. I felt bad for him, but I knew that my arms weren't what Matt needed right now. After an hour or so, he crept out of the room.

TJ went home after making us macaroni and cheese for dinner, and Vincent and I went up to bed not long after. Matt wasn't in his room, so I walked down the hall and peeked into the guest room. They were fully clothed with Matt sitting up against the headboard holding Adam close to him, running a hand up and down his back. Matt's eyes were closed and his expression was peaceful, so I left them alone.

I was exhausted emotionally, but I wasn't sleepy, so Vincent put me on my stomach and straddled me, rubbing my back, putting enough weight into his hands to make me groan. I could feel his soft penis drag against my skin when he leaned forward, and I realized I needed him, needed to feel him, to feel alive. I reached around to push his cock down into the crack of my ass.

"Fuck me, Vincent."

My voice was raw with emotion and need, and Vincent didn't question my demand. I heard the 'pop' of the lube bottle, then the soft squish and slide of Vincent stroking himself to erection. That sound worked on me like Pavlov's bell on his dog, hardening my cock quickly as I pushed a pillow under my hips. Vincent slid a slick hand down the valley of my ass, and eased two fingers into me as I moaned, arching my back.

He shoved my legs apart, hanging over me on his knees and one hand as he guided his cock between the cheeks of my ass, pushing deeper until he began to enter me. He started to work his way in with short strokes, but it wasn't enough, and as he came forward one time, I shoved back into him, burying his cock in me hard enough to make us both grunt.

Vincent understood what I needed and began to really stroke me, slamming his pelvis into my ass so hard that I moved up the bed each time until I braced a hand against the headboard. As his balls banged into mine, I began to cry again - hot, painful tears that burned my eyes. Vincent lowered himself onto my back, curling his hands over my shoulders so that he could pull himself into me as he pumped.

There was nothing gentle or loving about this fuck - it was rough and primal, and I lost myself in the rhythm of his strokes, rising to meet each one with gritted teeth and knuckles clenched whitely in the sheets.

I don't know how long Vincent could have kept it up, but I began to need the release of orgasm, a culmination of this day and this act.

"Now," I told him, my voice muffled by the pillow. "Make me come now."

He pulled out and rolled me over, slid a finger deep to massage my prostate, and grabbed my dripping cock in a hard fist, stroking me with the short twisting motions that he knew I liked. I was so far gone by then that I started to shoot at the top of the fifth one, freezing at the peak of each contraction, shuddering as the next one built. Vincent slid back into me quickly as I started to climax, pumping hard for a few seconds until he pressed into me, his body jerking as he came.

When he was sure I was finished, he got up to turn on the shower. He came back to the bed to gather me in his arms for a moment, wiping his thumbs under my eyes, and mopping up my runny nose. I finally began to feel better under the hot water, leaning on my hands against the cool tile while Vincent soaped me with gentle hands.

"Thank you," I told him, turning to look into his compassionate gaze. He was truly my rock, the one thing I knew I couldn't live without. "I couldn't have gotten through this day without you. I love you."

"I know you do, sweetheart. I'm so sorry about Dylan." He cupped my face in his hand. "Do you think you can sleep?"

I nodded, and we dried off and climbed into bed where I slept more easily than I would have thought possible under the circumstances, but I woke up to an empty bed about one a.m. I sat up enough to see that the bathroom door was closed, but the light wasn’t on, and when Vincent didn’t come out after a few minutes, I got up and walked over to listen. Quietly, but unmistakably, I could hear him crying, alone in the dark.

I pushed the door open and stepped in cautiously, not sure where he was, but then I saw a movement and knelt down to him. He was crouched in the corner behind the door, and turned away from me when I reached for him.

“Go back to bed, Sean,” he told me in a tight, choked voice.

“Why is it okay for you to always be there for me, but when you need comfort, you won’t come to me?”

He didn’t reply until I touched his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I just feel like I’m supposed to be strong and take care of you. It’s always been that way.”

“You are always strong for me, but I need to know that you'll come to me when you need to.”

I sat back against the wall next to him, and put my arm over his slumped shoulders. He was stiff at first, but finally came to me, sniffing hard and grabbing some toilet paper to wipe his nose.

“Why were you crying?”

He shrugged and heaved a huge sigh. “Just everything. I wished more than anything today that I could make it easier for you. I knew you were hurting so badly, and I felt helpless, and I hated it. Not that I don’t feel bad about Dylan, but you’re always my main focus. Always.”

He hugged me hard, and we sat there until my butt started to hurt from the hard tile. I got up, pulled Vincent to his feet, and lead him to bed. He was back in control of himself, pushing me onto my side away from him so that he could pull me close. This time I made sure he fell asleep first, and we both slept through until morning, when I felt him get up around seven. I was just rolling over to stretch when Matt came in with a cup of coffee. He climbed onto the bed next to me, holding the cup while I took a careful sip. He looked drawn and sad.

"You okay, Matty?"

"Just tired," he nodded. "Vincent's making breakfast. Are you ready to get up?"

"Yeah. How's Adam?"

"I think he's okay. He talked to me last night, finally. I asked him why he pushed me away, and he told me that he didn't think it was fair to make me go through all the grief with him, cause I barely knew Dylan. I told him I wanted to be with him. He just stared at me for a minute, and then he grabbed me and he never let go, even when he fell asleep."

"Did he cry yet?"

He shook his head, looking away from me for a moment, and I couldn't mistake what I saw in his face. He was in love with Adam. It didn't matter that he was only nineteen. Sometimes love just happens without regard for age or time or place, and Matt was in love with Adam. When I put a hand on his shoulder he turned those sea green eyes to me, just as they were about to overflow with unshed tears.

"Tell him, Matty. It's time. Go to him now, and tell him how you feel."

When Matt blinked, several big teardrops rolled down his pale cheeks, and I wiped them off with a gentle finger. His chin trembled for a moment, but then he tightened his jaw, and took a big shuddering breath as he got off the bed. He scrubbed his hands over his face a couple times before he left the room. I put the coffee cup on the nightstand and lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. Please let it go okay, I thought to myself as I heard the guest room door close at the end of the hall.

Vincent had scrambled eggs ready when I got to the kitchen. I told him what was happening upstairs, and he was silent for a bit while he buttered a piece of toast.

"Are you okay with that? If they get together, Matt will leave us."

I nodded. "I just hope that Adam doesn't reject him, like it's too soon after Dylan's death or something. I think they would have ended up together anyway. Remember at Christmas, how Adam was with him? It was starting then."

We finished breakfast, and cleaned up the kitchen together. It felt good to do something normal like dishes, and I worked my way around the counter, cleaning and straightening. Vincent sat at the island watching me until I ran out of puttery stuff to do. When I came up behind him to drape my arms over his shoulders, he wrapped his arms over mine and put his head back so that we were cheek to cheek.

"What would you like to do today, baby, before we go to your folks?"

I had my eyes closed, and was moving my head just enough to scrape my unshaven face lightly against his. The scratchy noises our beards made brought a little smile to my face.

"I need some time by myself to just think about it. Maybe I'll take Zena for a ride."

He nodded, turning his head to kiss me. "I'm gonna run over to the restaurant for a while. Tony's doing his first big wedding tomorrow and I need to go over it with him. See you back here early afternoon?"

I went upstairs to change, glancing down the hall, but the door was still closed and I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.

Zena was hot to trot, so we headed out onto the trails at a canter. After I loped her a bit, she settled down, and I let her set the pace as we wandered around the more remote parts of the development. We reached the top of a hill - one that I had been to more than once - and with no one to talk to, I let my mind just open up to the fact that Dylan was gone.

I thought about all the things we'd done together through the years - all the boys we'd shared when we were young and chronically horny, playing in the pool, our nights on the couch; and I thought about him recently, how he'd pulled away from our friendship the past year. I realized I hadn't really known what had been going on with him, and it made me sad to think I that hadn’t bothered to find out.

That eventually brought me around to Vincent and Matt and Adam - three men who were very important to me, and who I loved in varying ways and degrees.

I knew that Vincent and I had something really special - Wade and Cody's little episode had made that clear to me. I vowed to be more aware of the people I loved - how they felt, what mattered to them - and to make sure they knew what they meant to me. Dylan's death had been a brutal reminder that you can't always put something off until tomorrow because sometimes there simply is no tomorrow.

By the time I put Zena away I was calm, and went into the house looking for Vincent, needing to hug him and tell him that I loved him. I found him in the den, and my stomach knotted up as I looked around the room.

Matt was huddled into the chair by the door, Adam was back to staring out the window at the far end of the room, and Vincent was sitting on the couch halfway between them. He turned to look at me with a grim expression and shook his head.

I leaned down to Matt who raised red eyes and a tear-stained face to me. He looked miserable, and began to cry softly when I hugged him tight for a minute. I lay my hand against Vincent’s cheek for a second as I crossed the room to Adam.

He acknowledged my presence with a glance, but didn’t say anything as I settled my back against the wall next to the window.

“What’s goin' on?” I asked him softly, watching Matt blow his nose.

“I think you probably know. Matt came to me a while ago and told me that he was in love with me.”

I nodded slowly. “He is. Is that a problem?”

“Jesus, Sean ………. he’s still a teenager.”

“I remember you telling me one time that he was ‘old enough.' What’s changed?”

Adam shook his head in frustration. “I’m talking about a lifetime here, not one night.”

“And you feel he can’t make that kind of decision because he’s only nineteen? I think he’s already experienced more in his short life than you and I have put together." I looked at him. "Do you love him?”

He hung his head to his chest, and his voice was so choked with emotion that I could barely make out the words. “I need him so badly it hurts," he said through gritted teeth.

“Then fucking do something about it! What are you so goddamn afraid of?”

He lifted his hands to grip the window frame with white-knuckled fingers. “That’s a huge decision, and I just think he’s too young.”

“So…… what? You’re gonna wait until he’s twenty-one? Twenty-five? When will he be old enough? He’s in love with you, Adam. Look at him.”

He didn’t move, so I sunk my fingers into his shoulder and turned him forcibly.

“Look at him," I repeated quietly. "Dylan made you wait years. Are you going to do the same to Matt? He doesn’t deserve that.”

Adam’s face softened as he watched Matt. “No, he doesn’t.” He looked down at the floor, and swallowed hard. “God……."

Something occurred to me. "Is this about Dylan? Are you still-?

"No!" he cut me off. "No, I'm not still pining over Dylan. But his death made me realize that I need to do something about Matt and me, and I'm just not sure…….. He's so young, Sean. If he changes his mind and leaves me……"

"There are no guarantees, Adam, you know that. People change. If you're lucky, you weather those changes."

"You and Vincent….."

"….. have an exceptional relationship, but we have the occasional problem, too. Everyone does. Talk to him," I urged. "Talk it out. Maybe you're right; maybe he's still just a kid, but he loves you, and you owe it to him to at least give him a chance."

My hand was still on his shoulder and I squeezed it as he left me to cross the room and kneel by Matt’s chair. When he spoke, Matt jumped a little and lifted his head. I don’t know what happened next because Vincent took me by the wrist and led me from the room, closing the door behind us, but a few weeks later, Matt told me most of it.

When Adam knelt by Matt's chair, the words he'd spoken were, "Matty, we need to talk"

Adam then took Matt over to the couch where they talked about what each of them wanted and needed in a partner, Adam's fears about Matt's tender age and ability to commit, what they wanted their life together to be like. Matt's replies must have reassured Adam because they found us in the kitchen about an hour later, hand in hand. Matt looked exhausted, but very happy, and Adam looked at peace for the first time in weeks. Adam pushed Matt into Vincent’s arms and came to me, locking his hands behind my neck, and pulling our foreheads together.

“Thank you, Sean. I'm a real ass sometimes. I promise you I’ll take good care of him.”

“You’ll take care of each other,” I replied, smiling at him. He smiled back and kissed me warmly. I glanced at the clock and added, “Come with us tonight. Dylan’s folks will be at my mom’s for dinner.”

“Shouldn’t that be just family?”

“You are family, Adam. Matt’s going, and I want you to come.”

He didn’t argue further, just collected Matt from Vincent and went up to get ready. I stood there with a forgotten drink in one hand, numb with the knowledge that Matt would probably be leaving us to live with Adam. I was happy that they had gotten together, but I dreaded losing Matt. Vincent came to me and clinked his glass into mine.

“What the hell are we celebrating?” I asked him glumly.

“The fact that our Matt has just partnered up with one of the absolute best people we know. Think how he was when we got him, Sean. Skinny, scared to death. And look at him now. He’s a confident, loving person with a good heart, who needs someone of his own. He loves us, and he’s not going that far away.”

I knew all that, but hearing Vincent say it made me feel better, and by the time Adam and Matt came back downstairs I was okay. The evening went better than I expected. Dylan’s parents were devastated, but calm, and were glad to see me. They knew Dylan and I had been lovers, and had accepted it years ago. It was comforting to have family around, so we stayed for several hours reminiscing and deciding about the funeral. I followed my mom into the kitchen at one point to tell her about Matt and Adam. She cocked her head for a moment as she thought about it, and then smiled.

“I thought something was different. Matt looks….. more complete, somehow.”

More complete. It made me smile as I thought that’s how I felt with Vincent by my side, and I hoped Adam and Matt might be able to create something similar. We were quiet driving home, and when we got there, they kissed us goodnight and went up to bed. Matt put his arm over Adam’s shoulders as they walked down the hall, and I smiled a little.

We all went to work Monday. Around ten I called Ryan from the quiet of my office.

"Ryan, it's Sean."

"Hi, how're you doing?"

"All right. You?"

"I'm okay. We'd only been together a few times. It was mostly the shock of it that got me when I talked to you Saturday. Sorry I hung up on you."

"You're never prepared to hear something like that." We were both silent for a moment. "Anyway, the service is ten o'clock Wednesday morning, at Memorial Hills Cemetery, here in town."

"I'll be there. Thank you for letting me know."

I had no idea what Ryan looked like, but his voice was wonderful - deep and confident - and I was curious to get a look at him Wednesday.

I rode a couple horses and did some of the endless paperwork that came across my desk, and the day finally passed. I half-hoped that Matt and Adam would still be there tonight, but when I got home, they were gone.

I went slowly up the stairs and turned down the hall, stopping in Matt's doorway. His closet door was ajar, and I could see the bare pole from where I stood. That, more than anything, drove home the fact that Matty was gone. He wouldn't sleep under my roof any longer. He wouldn't greet me in the kitchen with a hug and a kiss at the end of a long day. The den would be emptier without him sketching in the chair near the fireplace.

I stood there breathing deeply, willing myself not to cry. As I turned to leave the room, I noticed something on his bed - a frame turned to face the pillow. I walked to the bed, picking up the frame, but not turning it over yet. I knew it was a goodbye gift from him, and that he'd meant for us to find it just like this. I clenched my jaw and turned the frame over.

It was a pencil sketch - the kind he knew I liked best - and it was a self-portrait. It showed him naked from the chest up with his head tipped slightly to the right, and he was looking straight at me with a little smile. He'd written an inscription across the bottom.

'Thank you for my life. I promise to use it well. I love you both very much. Matty'

Vincent found me curled up on Matt's bed hugging the picture to my chest. I was finished crying by then, so I greeted him with a kiss, and then showed him the picture. He studied it for a long moment before gathering me into his arms and lying back down. It was dark when we finally got up and went down to dinner, just the two of us.

Copyright © 2011 Gabriel Morgan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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