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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 - 22. Chapter 22

Christmas morning Matt woke up early and came into our room with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies. I groaned at the sight of more cookies, but he looked so pleased with himself that I ate one anyway. Apparently he had memories of his grandma always making hot chocolate on Christmas morning, and this was the first chance he'd had in years of actually doing it. We lounged in bed for a while, but I could tell Matt was hot to get to the presents, so we headed down to the den and settled around the little tree.

Maria had left small packages for each of us, so we opened those first, giggling at the holiday boxers she'd gotten us. Each was a different color, but all of them had Rudolph on the front with his snout right over the fly, so when you stuck your cock out, well, you get the idea. We put them on and had a hilarious red nose contest – which Vincent won – and then moved on to the other presents.

I handed Matt an envelope first. He bent it back and forth a few times with a puzzled expression, then tore off the end and pulled out a folded sheet of paper and a check book. He opened the paper first, stared at the statement of deposit, and raised astonished eyes to me. I had taken my share of 2nd and 3rd place Gran Prix money and opened an investment account for him with Wade's firm.

"You can't touch that till you're twenty-five, except to add to it. If you leave it alone and let Wade manage it for you, you'll have a good chunk of change by the time you start thinking about retirement."

My generous bonus from Amanda had become a checking account in his, Vincent’s and my name. "The checking account is yours to do whatever with, although Vincent is going to monitor your spending for a while. We'll keep you fed and clothed, so it's for your own personal use – CDs, more camera gadgets, stuff like that."

He looked down at the documents in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across the cover of the checkbook, and I could tell he was trying not to cry, so I tossed him another small package. Matt's gift from Vincent was the key to the little pickup truck Corleone's had used as a delivery vehicle for a couple years. It had lots of miles left in it -- they were just replacing it with something larger. Matt still needed to get a license, but he was thrilled, launching himself at Vincent and covering him with kisses. He then dashed out to the garage to look at it. We'd had it painted the same greenish blue as his eyes, and it looked like new.

We’d also gotten him a laptop computer, loaded with the latest version of Photoshop, and a little photo printer so that he could manipulate photos from his new camera, and he spent most of the day figuring it out. Later that evening he showed me a photo he'd snapped of Vincent, to which he'd applied a water effect so that Vincent looked like he was floating just under the surface of a lake. Odd but interesting, and he was having a ball with it.

Vincent and I had made a substantial joint donation to an organization that worked at getting kids off the streets and had gotten each other only a card. You'd think on our first Christmas as a couple we'd have gone nuts with presents, but having only a card to give him made me really work at it. I’d made him a little booklet with my favorite photos of us and my memories of those times written underneath. He had bought me a card from the store that had several blank pages, and he wrote about the months since he’d moved in, how much richer his life was now, how much it meant to know I’d be next to him every night. I read it several times, soaking up the words he'd written to me, and when I looked up at him, he was watching me with the same expression I could feel on my face. I leaned over and kissed him slowly, lingering in his mouth, deeply happy that he was in my life.

Matt picked up a flat package about a foot square and handed it to me shyly. "I made you something, you and Vincent. It doesn't seem like much after what you've given me, but I hope you like it."

I tore the paper off a picture frame, hand-made from old barn wood, weathered and gnarled. As I turned it over, both Vincent and I drew in a breath of amazement. Matt had drawn us in plain old #2 pencil on a sheet of ordinary copy paper, and it was exquisite. We were hugging loosely, leaning back to smile at each other, with the suggestion of our kitchen in the background. The sketch showed us from the hips up, and he had captured us perfectly; the simple black and white drawing glowed with love and contentment.

His initials were in the bottom left corner.

"Oh, Matty." I looked at him in astonishment. "This is just beautiful. My God, I didn't know you could draw."

He was grinning at our obvious delight with his gift. "Yeah, since I was little. It's the one thing I could do no matter where I was or what was going on. You just need a pencil and paper. I can do watercolors a little, too, but I thought pencil was better for this. Alejandro helped me with the frame."

Vincent had gone out to the kitchen after staring at the drawing for several moments. He returned with a hammer and nail and tapped it into the wall near the door so we could see it from the couch where we sat every night. I got up and hung the drawing, then stepped back to admire it, pulling Matt into a hug as I did.

"Thank you, Matty. That's the most personal gift anyone has ever given us, and I love it. We'll have to get you some supplies. Do you wanna see if we can get you into an art school?"

"That'd be great. I've got the knack, but I could really use some training."

After a late breakfast, Vincent headed off to the restaurant for the early dinner seating, and Matt and I went to the barn to clean and feed. Tommy and Alejandro had done the morning feeding before they'd driven to Alejandro's folks' house but hadn't cleaned, so it took us a several hours to do all the horses. Ginger was looking much better after a month of steady groceries, and I'd quit worrying that she was going to drop dead in her stall. She nickered when she saw Matt, and he gave her extra carrots while he cleaned. After she ate, I got out an old western saddle and bridle, brought her out to the cross ties[,] and tacked her up with a gel pad to cushion her back.

She stood quietly as I mounted in the round pen and walked out calmly when I legged her. When I asked her to shift gears, she broke into a soft, slow jog that I sat without difficulty. I hadn't planned on loping her, but she seemed fine, so I asked for a left lead. She lifted into it without hesitation and moved around the ring on a loose rein until I asked her to stop, which she did quickly, sliding like a stock horse and almost unseating me. I looked at her with new respect and decided to see if TJ wanted to sell her. Sam couldn't find anything wrong with her, so we still didn't know why someone had decided to starve her almost to death.

Matt was watching from the fence, and I called him in as I dismounted. "Climb on from the left and settle in. The stirrup length should be okay. Hold the reins in one hand, lay them against her neck, and leg her gently with your inside leg to put her on the rail."

He rode her for half an hour, and then we went home to join Vincent for a traditional Hispanic holiday meal of pork tamales with rice and beans. Adam arrived just as we were sitting down, so he joined us. Matt ran upstairs and came back to hand him a small package.

As he tore the paper off, his face broke into a grin. After a minute of studying it, he handed me a picture frame that held a drawing of him holding the Gran Prix trophy up against his chest in one hand while the other was clenched in a fist pump next to his shoulder. It was practically a snapshot of the moment Adam had been handed the trophy at the awards presentation in Florida, and Adam’s immense satisfaction came through loud and clear.

Adam grabbed Matt in a big hug and held on tight as he spoke. “Thank you, I love it.” He pulled back to look at me. “How did you like the one of you and Vincent? Isn’t it great?”

I agreed that it was, and he said that Matt had shown it to him at the barn when Alejandro was helping him frame it.

“But I didn’t know you did one of me,” he added, pulling Matt close again. Matt looked content in Adam’s arms, closing his eyes and letting Adam swing him back and forth a couple times before they broke apart. Adam touched Matt with the same affectionate frequency that Vincent and I did, and Matt returned the gestures, even hugging Adam briefly from behind when he got up for more tamales.

After dinner Adam asked Matt to take a walk with him, and they strolled around the neighborhood for an hour or so. Adam left without coming back in the house, and when Matt came inside, he was smiling to himself as he listened to the iPod Adam had given him.

I couldn't decide what I thought about Matt and Adam. Not that they were together, but it certainly seemed as though Adam had some interest. I'd had Adam paired with Dylan for so long in my mind that it was hard to think of him with someone else. Adam and I had always been good friends, but our time together at the GPs while Vincent was gone had brought us very close. I loved and respected Adam, but I cared enough about Matt to feel a pang at the thought of him with someone else – even Adam. I had no illusions that Matt would live out his life under my roof, but I wasn't looking forward to the day he'd leave, either.

We had flan and brandy in front of the fire in the den. Matt wasn't wild about the brandy, but had a few sips of mine before switching to milk, his drink of choice. He was quiet, staring into the fire with a pensive expression – not the lost look I mentioned earlier, but just absentmindedly twirling the fringe of the afghan around his fingers. I was leaning back against Vincent with my feet in Matt's lap, and poked him gently with a toe.

He turned and looked at me for a long moment, his eyes steady on mine, then crawled up and lay down next to me so that he could hug both of us.

"You guys saved my life," he said softly, resting his head against my chest while he looked at Vincent. "And I can't ever thank you enough for that. I love you both." It was almost a teary moment, but Matt's kisses of gratitude gradually got hotter, so we abandoned the couch for our big bed. His quiet mood carried over into the bedroom, and as we were settling in for two blow jobs (mine from him and his from Vincent), he suddenly stopped and sat up.

"Will one of you fuck me, please?" He rushed the words out, then calmed down a little and spoke more slowly. "I don't even know if I like it or not. I just did it when some guy wanted to, but I never enjoyed it." He looked at me. "I've watched you when Vincent fucks you, and you seem to love it, so I want to try it again now that it's just us."

So far, Matt had shown no interest in fucking from either side, and I'd begun to wonder if his years on the streets had left him with a permanent aversion to that particular pastime. I'd sucked him off several times by now, but I'd never gone near his hole with my tongue or a finger, and he hadn't encouraged me to.

Vincent and I looked at each other; I nodded at him, and he looked back to Matt. "I'd love to -- if you really want to." Matt nodded and lay down on his back with his knees bent and spread, looking trustingly up at Vincent, who lowered his weight onto Matt and began to kiss him. I almost felt like I should leave the room, but I scooted up to one corner of the bed and watched while Vincent seduced Matt. I use that word in the most positive sense possible, because it was a seduction – a slow, loving arousal designed to make it an intimate experience Matt would never forget.

As I watched, I recalled that first night in Vincent's apartment. He had been a talented lover back then and he had only improved with age, so I knew what Matt was feeling. By the time Vincent began to work his cock into him, Matt's mouth was open, and he gave little panting moans every time he exhaled. Vincent went very slowly, pushing in a little more each time Matt relaxed a little, and I could see the strain on Vincent's face as he fought to control his response to the feel of Matt's body tight around him.

By the time Vincent was fully in, Matt had broken a sweat, his smooth body gleaming in the dim light of the room. I went to him then, lying along side so I could kiss him and rub his chest. As I touched him, he turned to me blindly, burrowing into me and clutching my hand. Vincent groaned when Matt moved. I kissed Matt’s face and cupped his cheek. "You okay?" I asked him softly. Matt didn't speak, but I felt him nod against me.

Vincent was still as a statue, eyes shut, gripping Matt's legs and breathing raggedly. As I watched him, he began to move in long strokes, clenching his jaw each time he pushed deep. Eventually Matt started to move with him, and I backed off again. Despite his exceptional control, I didn't think Vincent would last long, and I was right. He soon began to move more quickly as Matt's moans rose to a high keening that was almost eerie to listen to.

It made my mouth dry and my cock hard as I watched Vincent lift Matt's hips to get a better angle at his prostate. That was it for Matt, and he shuddered through an orgasm so intense I thought he was going to pass out. He didn't breathe at all through his usual copious shots, and when he finally did, it was in huge gasping breaths with his eyes wide open.

Vincent came inside Matt with a growling snarl that twisted his face and looked like it actually hurt. He bared his clenched teeth and hung over Matt on stiff arms while his body jerked. Finally he gave one last convulsive shiver, pulled out of Matt, and fell over onto his back. He was dripping wet, and his chest rose and fell like a bellows as he tried to catch his breath.

I was still milking the last of my own solo orgasm from my cock when Matt rolled onto his side and reached for me. As soon as I put my arms around him, he began to cry, and Vincent recovered enough to come to us, searching my face. I shook my head, not sure what the problem was, and I rocked Matt for a few minutes while he gradually got himself under control. I wiped his face with a corner of the sheet and handed him the tissue box to blow his nose, which he did noisily like a little kid.

After a moment, he looked up at me and said in a quavery voice, "I can see why you like it so much," and then began to laugh in a watery, snuffly chuckle that had Vincent and me smiling. "I'm not crying cause I'm scared or anything. It was just so intense."

Matt slept with us that night, tucked safely into the curve of Vincent's body, while I lay facing them, holding Vincent's hand as it draped across Matt. It was a damn good end to Christmas Day.

We decided sort of at the last minute to host a New Year’s Day buffet brunch and phoned all the guys on the 29th to let them know. We included Gabriel, since I knew he didn’t have any family around; even if he wasn’t gay, I figured he could handle us for a few hours. Everyone accepted except Dylan, who had decided to go to Houston to attend a party his law firm was holding. He hadn’t been around in a while, and I was beginning to wonder what the deal was.

As Vincent left for work that morning, I told him to invite Eduardo. He eyed me and asked if I was playing matchmaker.

“No, but they seemed to hit it off at the Christmas thing. I think it would be good for Matt to hang around with someone closer to his own age, don’t you? It’ll just give them a chance to see each other again.”

“Matt knows the way to Corleone’s. If he wants to see Eddie, he can drive over any day of the week.”

“All right, all right! Jesus! I just thought I’d give it a helping hand, okay? Don’t invite him then.”

He just smirked at having gotten me to admit it and walked out the door, but Eddie called me later that afternoon and thanked me for the invitation.

We spent a fairly quiet New Year’s Eve. With Dylan gone, I invited Adam to come over for the evening. We ordered pizza and sat in the hot tub for a while, Matt being naked for the first time with someone other than Vincent and me. He didn't seem at all shy about shucking his shorts in front of Adam, and we had a relaxing night, coming inside in time for the ball to drop in Times Square. We all kissed and hugged at midnight, and then Adam left – somewhat reluctantly, I thought – and we went to bed.

The next morning we slept late, getting downstairs just in time to start coffee before the first guests arrived. At my suggestion, Jesse and Ben arrived a little early, and I took them into the kitchen where Matt was helping Vincent. I watched Jesse as he caught sight of Matt, then looked at Matt to see what Jesse was seeing.

Matt was dressed in jeans and a sweater my mom had given him for Christmas, which was the same color as his eyes and looked wonderful on him. He had gained 21 pounds in the two months since Jesse had brought him over here that afternoon; the hollows in his cheeks were gone, and his butt had rounded out nicely, a detail not missed by Jesse's observant eyes.

Matt didn’t see Jesse right away, and Jesse just stood there for a few moments while his smile got wider and wider.

“Hey, Matt.”

At Jesse's voice, Matt turned around with a surprised expression, which broke into a delighted grin when he saw who’d spoken to him. He put down the knife he’d been slicing bread with and walked right into Jesse’s open arms. They hugged for a long minute, then Jesse held him at arm’s length to take a good look. “God, you look great, Matt. It's wonderful to see you happy and healthy. These guys are taking good care of you, huh?"

"Yeah, they are." He pulled away. "I have something for you. Let me get it." He trotted out of the room. I shrugged at Jesse's questioning look, but by now I had a pretty good idea what it might be. We got drinks and were sitting around the island when Matt came back and handed a small frame to Jesse.

"It's from the night that Vincent and I went into Ray's. You were sitting at the table in the motel room, thinking."

Jesse's face had gone from curiosity to astonishment as he looked at the drawing, much as mine had done when Matt gave us our Christmas present. I leaned over to peer at it; in the drawing, Jesse was in profile, shown from the waist up. He was sitting with his elbow resting on a table and his chin on his fist, gazing down at the tabletop. The heavy muscles of his arm were bunched, and the fabric of his t-shirt stretched over his shoulder. His face was partially shadowed, and you could really feel Jesse's intensity.

"Jesus . . ." was all Jesse could manage at first. He stared at Matt for a moment, then went back to the drawing. "I bet I didn’t sit there like that for more than a few minutes.”

Matt shrugged. "I work from memory a lot. Most of the time I couldn't sit and draw something while it was in front of me, so I got good at remembering."

Ben had taken the frame from Jesse and was studying the drawing carefully. “It captures some the things I love most about you -- your strength and your determination,” he told Jesse, then glanced at Matt. “You have a real talent.”

We’d left the gate open and the front door unlocked, and Adam wandered in just then with Gabriel, so we got the party underway. TJ arrived with Wade and Cody not long after, and Eddie, Tommy, and Alejandro showed up just as we were starting the first round of omelets. Matt seemed a little surprised to see Eddie, and I caught Adam watching me with a speculative look when he noticed Matt and Eddie laughing together off in the corner.

After everyone had at least one plateful under his belt, I moved to the front of the room and cleared my throat. Vincent joined me, standing partially behind me with an arm around my waist. "Vincent and I have decided to make our relationship more formal.” I paused and held up my left hand, waggling my third finger. "No one seems to have noticed this since I got it back at the end of August.”

At that point I was cut off by "How blind do you think we are?" and "Of course, we noticed it."

"Then why didn't anyone ask me about it?"

Wade grinned at me. "We figured you'd tell us in your own good time, and now you are."

I shook my head at them. "Anyway, we're going to have some sort of ceremony here at the house in April, probably the 2nd, so keep it open."

Everyone was happy for us, and we spent a few more hours gathered in the kitchen, eating, drinking, and talking. Matt and Eddie disappeared for a while, and I found them in Matt's room, lying on the bed, fully clothed, talking. Matt raised his head when I looked in the open door, but I just lifted a hand and went back downstairs. They joined the party after an hour or so when Eddie had to leave for his shift at the restaurant. Adam didn't move in on Matt, and Matt spent the rest of the time with Jesse and Ben.

TJ moved into William's house the first week in January. Danny had found another shoer, so TJ began spending most of his time at Stonegate, trailing around behind Sam as she doctored the various ills produced by a stable of 40 horses. He quickly became proficient at a lot of the basic stuff -- shots, bandaging, and diagnosing foot and leg ailments, since he'd done that as a farrier. He also kept all the horses' feet in good repair. We went to lunch a few times a week, and it was nice to have him around all the time.

I'd never gotten over my infatuation with TJ and enjoyed cornering him in the hay barn or tack room now and then for a few hot kisses. One afternoon it went a little further than that, and we ended up with TJ's dick in my hand and my tongue down his throat. Other than Matt, Vincent and I hadn't gotten together with anyone since he'd been attacked in mid-August. It was now early January, and I was obviously more than ready, so later I gave Vincent a quick call. He hesitated for just a second before saying it sounded good. I tracked TJ down and invited him over for a continuation of our tack room session.

I told Matt at dinner that TJ was coming over and why, and that he was welcome to join us if he was interested and felt comfortable about it. He thought for a minute, but then said he’d pass this time, except maybe for a kiss or two. One time when I was telling Matt how I’d met some of our friends, I’d told him how well TJ kissed, and he’d been curious ever since.

TJ showed up about 8pm, freshly showered and looking like a poster boy for the hunk of the month club, in faded, old jeans and a white t-shirt that looked like it had been molded to him. I had called him earlier with Matt’s request, so I let Matt get the door and gave them a few minutes to talk.

We sat around the den for a while, having a drink and starting to play on the couch. TJ sat between Matt and me, with Vincent watching us from a nearby chair. TJ pushed me down and kissed me silly for a few minutes, picking up where we’d left off in the tack room. When he had me half-hard and breathing heavy, he turned to Matt and leaned into him, kissing his cheek first, and then working his way to his mouth. Matt was ready for him, and their first kiss hardened my dick the rest of the way.

As I’ve said, TJ was just a natural-born kisser, and Matt wasn’t immune to his talent. He turned toward him and rose to one knee to face TJ on the couch. TJ pulled Matt’s free leg across his lap so that Matt was straddling him, and gripped his hips as Matt held onto TJ’s shoulders. I was a little surprised at TJ's aggressiveness, but Matt came to him willingly. After a few minutes, Matt broke the kiss, looked at TJ with a dazed expression, and then got to his feet and walked from the room. TJ gave me a confused look.

“He’s not used to world-class kissing,” I explained. TJ laughed, but was cut off as Vincent clamped his mouth over TJ’s and shut him up. Things proceeded predictably from that point. We ended up staying in the den, putting the different levels – floor, couch seat, and couch back – to good use. TJ had learned to top pretty well, moving his cock around in my ass in a leisurely fashion that got the job done without feeling rushed. I'm not fond of being pounded away at when nothing's being accomplished, so TJ's style suited me.

TJ had me bent over the couch with Vincent under me, sucking my cock and tweaking my nipples. I loved being the center of attention, but I didn't last very long. I blew my load all over Vincent's chest as TJ buried his cock and took short strokes that hit me perfectly. After TJ pulled out, I sank to my knees and knelt there for a few minutes while Vincent pulled TJ around to the other side of the couch.

By the time I joined them, TJ's knees were up by his shoulders, and Vincent was dragging his tongue up TJ's ass from his hole to his nuts in long firm strokes that had TJ's head arched back into the cushions. I watched for a few minutes, listening to the slurp of Vincent's mouth and TJ's soft moans, then moved up to kiss TJ, playing with his cock while Vincent drove him crazy.

Eventually Vincent climbed up to work his cock into TJ, who grunted softly with each additional inch Vincent shoved into him. I fondled TJ's balls, enjoying the feel of Vincent's tight belly bumping into my hand on every stroke. When he got close, I bent to take TJ's dick into my mouth. I sucked hard as he pumped into me, flooding my mouth with hot cum. TJ's orgasm triggered Vincent's, who leaned back, his cock deep in TJ's guts as he came.

We had another drink before TJ left, then went up to bed where Vincent flopped onto his belly with spread legs and moaned his way through a slow screw that I was surprised I had the energy for.

The following week, I was sitting in the sun by the stallion paddock, cleaning tack and feeding Calvin a carrot now and then, when Adam pulled into the yard and walked over to me, his face solemn. Cal nickered at him, and Adam buried his face in the big horse's neck for a minute and then sat down next to me as he blew out a big sigh.

"Well, Dylan and I are officially through."

I looked at him in shock. "Really? What happened?"

"He came over last night, first time in weeks, and told me that it wasn't ever gonna happen between us and that he wouldn't be coming around any more."

"Jesus, did you guys have a fight or something?"

"No, nothing that dramatic. Back in August right after Vincent was attacked, I asked him to move in with me. Ever since you and Vincent got together, it's been bugging me that he wouldn’t get more serious about us, so I pushed it a little. He said no, obviously, and I admitted to myself then that we weren't ever gonna get together." He sighed again. "I've been working on accepting that, but I'm so ready to settle down with someone."

I leaned over to hug him, and he sat there for another few minutes, then pushed up out of the chair and went off to ride the new jumper that Maddy Gallagher had imported from Ireland. I felt terrible for him, and was surprised at Dylan ending it like that. They'd been friends, in and out of bed, for several years, and seemed to really enjoy each other.

Dylan settled the mystery that afternoon with a phone call. "Can you meet me for dinner?"

He was in the bar with a drink when I got there and got right to it when my drink arrived. "I broke it off with Adam. I just wanted you to know."

I nodded, looking down into my glass. "He told me. What's going on with you?"

"I'm just not ready to play house, and I know that's what he wants. He asked me to move in a while back." He sighed. "I'm lousy boyfriend material, Sean. I like screwing around, and I'm not ready to be with just one guy - even one as good as Adam."

"He's been waiting a while already. He might wait a while longer."

"That's just it. I don't want him to wait anymore. I don't like having that hanging over my head. He needs to move on and find someone who wants the same things he does, and he won't do that unless I quit seeing him."

I shook my head sadly. "Well, you're probably right, but just for the record I think you're a fool."

He didn't like that much, and I ended up going home after my drink. Matt was in the kitchen when I came in from the garage and turned to me in surprise. "I thought you were eating with Dylan."

"Nope. What did you guys have?" I was pissed at Dylan and feeling bitchy as I yanked open the door to the fridge and stared at the contents without seeing anything.

Matt moved closer, but didn't touch me. "Leftover lasagna from last night, but we ate it all. I can make you some eggs or something." His voice was soft, and I knew he could tell how upset I was. I let the fridge door close and turned to Matt with a frustrated sigh.

"Shit, I need a hug."

He wrapped his arms around me, and I put my forehead down on his shoulder as he squeezed me. I knew what was bothering me. I was afraid that Matt and Adam would get more serious now that Dylan was out of the picture, and I wasn't ready for that. I thought I might never be ready for that. I kissed Matt hotly enough to get a little moan out of him and then went up to bed without supper.

Vincent came up an hour later with cheese and crackers and two cold beers, which we drank while I told him about Adam and Dylan. He looked thoughtful, but didn't have much to say. He set my empty beer bottle on the bedside table, took the last swig of his own, and leaned down to take my soft dick into his mouthful of cold beer, swishing it around as it warmed up. The feel of the cold, bubbly liquid was a shock at first, and I almost pulled out of his mouth, but he held onto me, and I lay back to enjoy the first beer blow job I'd ever gotten. It certainly took my mind off Dylan.

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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