Chapter Thirteen
All is not Lost
 

    The orchestra room of Emerson Middle School erupted into the usual state of chaos that ensued everyday when the end-of-school bell rang at three-thirty. Mr. Stern sighed and placed his baton down. Zhenya and Robby pulled their violin cases out from under their seats. Sean continued to practice the overture to My Fair Lady which they had been repeating ad nauseum for days. Ethan simply sat in his chair and stared blankly at his music.

    Zhenya glanced to his left and saw Ethan's face, how drained of any emotion it was, and frowned. He nudged Robby and nodded toward Ethan. Robby looked at his former friend for a moment, but turned away and bit his lip.

    "I think Ethan needs his friends right now," said Zhenya.

    "He doesn't want any friends," Robby replied bitterly. "He wants sex buddies and pot."

    Zhenya closed his violin case and organized the music in his folder before standing.

    "I don't think that's true. I think he needs friends now more than he has ever needed them. I think we should talk to him."

    Most of the class were heading for the door. As Robby glanced over again, Ethan seemed to notice the departing crowd and slowly leaned over to pick up his violin case. Zhenya placed his own on his seat and stepped in front of Robby toward Ethan.

    "Ethan, Robby and I are going to the music store on 15th St. now. Would you like to come with us."

    Ethan's eyes were red and he had a slightly spaced out look. He didn’t seem to be entirely responsive, pausing uncomfortably before answering Zhenya’s question.

    "Um, the music store? The one Matt lives over?"

    Zhenya frowned.

    "No. He doesn't live there anymore. And, it's not that one. The one across from Schaumberg Hall, that sells instruments and sheet music, not records. We want to find some works by Dmitri Koronov. Would you like to come with us?"

    Ethan looked strangely up at Zhenya, seeming to think for a moment, before replying.

    "No. That's OK. I've got plans. Besides, Robby hates me."

    He looked sadly down at his violin case and opened it.

    "No, Ethan. He doesn't hate you."

    Zhenya leaned down and whispered, "He loves you Ethan, and he's worried about you."

    "Kyeah, right," Ethan spat bitterly. He carelessly dropped his violin and bow into the case and snapped it shut, quickly closing his music folder and standing. He saw Robby was already standing by the door to the hallway waiting for Zhenya.

    "He's waiting for you," he said as he walked past Zhenya. He ignored Robby as he walked into the hallway and Robby said nothing as he passed. Zhenya sadly watched as Ethan left the room.

    Sean had watched the exchange as he put his flute away. He stood and met Robby and Zhenya at the door.

    "What are we going to do about Ethan?" he asked as they entered the hallway.

    "Well, I thought that everything would be OK when Matt quit selling to him," said Robby. "But, I guess he found someone else to buy it from."

    "Matt feels really bad about Ethan, but Ethan won't talk to him anymore," said Sean as they turned into the stairway leading down to the first floor. "It's like Ethan just cuts off anyone who crosses him."

    Robby said nothing as they descended the stairs. The crowd was thinning out and as they reached the bottom, Sean's face lit up when he saw Matt waiting for him at his locker. He hurried ahead of Robby and Zhenya.

    "Man," said Robby as they made their way down the hall. "I never figured Sean and Matt for a couple. That's the weirdest thing. Talk about opposites attracting."

    "I think it is good thing," said Zhenya. "Matt helps Sean become a man and Sean helps Matt become good person."

    "I think Matt was already a good person. He just needed to get out of that environment he was in."

    Zhenya stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked at Robby with an inquisitive expression.

    "What?" asked Robby as he turned around.

    "You are very understanding and... how you say... open-minded... about Matt. Why are you not so charitable about Ethan?"

    Robby stood for a moment and thought.

    "Because Ethan betrayed me. He knew better. And, he still won't try to turn it around. Matt's turning himself around. Ethan's not even trying."

    Zhenya frowned, but made no reply as Sean and Matt we approaching.

    "Hey guys," said Matt with a big grin. He looked so different since his haircut and the purchase of his nice new clothes. Today he was wearing a colorful pair of bellbottom pants with a paisley shirt under his new warm winter coat, which he still rebelliously refused to zip up. His hair still hung over his ears, but it was neatly trimmed and off his collar and looked quite stylish. Sean's clothes were, of course, much more conservative, but Matt was enjoying his new life and his new freedom.

    "You want to come to music store with us?" Zhenya asked with a knowing grin. Matt gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

    "Ooh, sounds like too much excitement for me, man."

    Sean grinned.

    "We can't. Granddad and Pastor are meeting with the attorneys and Matt's mom. We're getting everything finalized for Granddad to become Matt's guardian. We go to court tomorrow."

    "Yeah, by this time Friday, I'm gonna be Sean's big brother!" Matt said with a grin. "Come on, little brother," he said pulling Sean toward the door.

    "Yeah? Well, fuck you!" Sean replied with a grin.

    "Well, you know what they say," said Matt with a nasty leer. "Incest is best!"

    Robby chuckled as Zhenya looked confused.

    "You don't want me to explain," said Robby to his Russian friend. "Trust me."

    They passed Ethan in the hallway as they walked to their lockers. Once again, he said nothing, keeping his eyes on the green tiles on the floor.

    "Mr. Spencer!"

    All three boys looked up and saw Mr. Osborn standing in his doorway down the hall. "Could you please spare a moment?"

    Robby saw Ethan's shoulders slump. His heart went out to the boy at the same time that he felt contempt. Contempt?

    With a pang of remorse over his feelings, Robby turned and followed Zhenya out the door.

    Several houses along Sycamore had their Christmas decorations up. Christmas trees with glowing lights shown from several windows as giant candy canes and Santa figures kept watch over the snowy yards along the street. Several snowmen had been built by neighborhood kids and it was a festive scene for Robby as he walked along the sidewalk with his friend.

    "We must talk to Ethan," said Zhenya as they approached Robby's house.

    "What?" Robby asked. His mind had been wandering and he was confused.

    "We must talk to Ethan. We are his friends. We must help him."

    Robby frowned as the climbed the steps to his house.

    "Yeah. I guess."

000

    "Ethan, I asked you in here because I think we need to discuss something."

    Ethan was seated in a desk near the front of the classroom as Mr. Osborn stood before him, leaning against the edge of his desk. His arms were crossed and he looked down at the boy, who squirmed uncomfortably.

    "Ethan, when this semester began, I saw an independent, intelligent, confident boy who was at ease telling Allen Ginsburg his poetry was pedestrian, who started a revolution in the school through non-violent protest, who stood up for what was right. I have to admit that of all my students, I admired you the most. You were exactly the kind of student a teacher prays for."

    Ethan looked down at his hands in shame.

    "What's happened? Since before Thanksgiving, you've been sullen, unmotivated, unprepared. You have nothing to do with your friends. You're the complete opposite of what you were. Quite frankly, Ethan, just on the basis of the last six weeks, you're failing this class."

    Ethan remained silent.

    "Ethan, I have to be honest. I'm only nine years older than you. I'm not stupid. I spent four years in a pretty open-minded university, so I know from personal experience when I say, Ethan, you've been stoned every day in class for the last six weeks."

    Ethan finally looked up.

    "Yeah," Mr. Osborn continued. "I know these things. I almost flunked out of SSU my sophomore year because I was stoned all the time."

    Ethan looked back down at his clenched hands.

    "What does it matter?"

    "What do you mean, 'what does it matter?'"

    Ethan's face scrunched in frustration.

    "So what if I get straight A's or flunk out. Does it matter?"

    Mr. Osborn frowned as he looked down at the boy. He saw the pain and confusion in Ethan's face and it hurt him. He fought the urge to lean down and hug him.

    "My Dad's a famous poet. Great. He's got the common sense of my sneakers. He took us to Chicago and we got caught in the riots because he thought it might be interesting. He's fucking a coed in one of his classes and he thought it might be an interesting experience for me to get fucked by one of his graduate assistants!"

    Mr. Osborn's eyes grew wide.

    "My Mom is this big radical lawyer, but we live in this fancy expensive home and while she makes all these great speeches about the poor and the oppressed, she's representing the same people who make the people poor and oppressed."

    The teacher sighed and re-crossed his arms.

    "My friends like me. They even say they love me. But, it's only if I do what they want me to do and act like they want me to act. I'm OK as long as all I do is meditate and act a little strange. But, when I do something really different, well then, Ethan's not good enough to be their friend! Well, fuck everybody! I'm doing my own thing!"

    The boy angrily stood up and stormed out of the classroom.

    "Ethan! Stop!" Mr. Osborn called as he chased the boy into the hall. Ethan was running down the hall, tears of anger and frustration flowing down his cheeks. "Let me talk with you! Let me help!"

    Ethan was through the lobby and out the front door. Even in his winter coat, he easily outdistanced Mr. Osborn. The teacher stopped on the top step in front of the school as Ethan ran up the sidewalk along 18th St. He bit his lip in frustration, resolved that this was not the last conversation he would have with the boy.

000

    “Y’all aren’t going to screech those damn violins up there, are ya?”

    Robby cringed with shame and embarrassment as he and Zhenya carried their new sheet music up the stairs. Robby’s mother was standing in the hallway door from the kitchen. Zhenya blushed uncomfortably, not knowing how to react. Robby stopped.

    “Can we go to your place?” he asked softly. Zhenya nodded and smiled.

    “We’re going to Zhenya’s,” he called in response.

    “Good. Frank’s gonna be here soon and that violin drives him crazy.”

    “Well,” said Robby softly as they reached the top of the stairs and turned toward his room, “we don’t want to drive Frank crazy, do we?”

    “Would you like to stay for dinner?” Zhenya asked. “I’m certain Papa would like it.”

    Robby smiled at his friend. He was finding that in the weeks since they had become closer, they were almost inseparable, often not needing to respond to each other as they already knew what the other would say.

    The boys gathered their violins and crept back down the stairs.

    “I’m going to eat over at Zhenya’s. OK?” he called out from the foyer.

    “Fine,” his mother responded distractedly from the kitchen.

    “And, afterwards,” he continued in the same voice, “I’m going to run naked through the White House and have sex with President Nixon.”

    “OK. Just be home by ten.”

    Robby rolled his eyes and Zhenya stifled a giggle.

    “Mom!” Brian yelled in his tattle-tale voice from the living room, “Robby said he’s gonna have sex with the President!”

    “OK,” she yelled back. “Just don’t make a mess.”

    This time, neither Robby nor Zhenya could hold back. They were cackling loudly as they stepped out on the porch and Robby closed the front door.

    “I guess I should happy she ignores me as much as she does,” Robby said as they walked through the declining afternoon light to Zhenya’s house.

    “You are fortunate to have mother,” said Zhenya as they walked up the sidewalk.

    “What happened to your mother,” Robby asked. “You never talk about her.”

    Zhenya sighed and looked off in front of them for a moment.

    “She died when I was young boy. She was in hospital for pneumonia. Papa says that is why we came to America. He says there was no reason for her to die.”

    “Oh, man. How old were you?”

    “I was six. I miss her very much. She always laughed and sang and danced. She was happy, beautiful woman.”

    They were passing Sean’s house across the street and turning toward Zhenya’s.

    “Do you think you dad will get married again?”

    “I don’t know. He spends all his time teaching and writing and making speeches. He is going to Washington, DC for speech at White House with President Nixon, soon.”

    “Really?” said Robby with enthusiasm. “That’s really cool!”

    Zhenya shrugged.

    “I remember when Papa met Brezhnev. He didn’t even know who Papa was. Politicians are all… dunces and… bullies.”

    Robby looked at his friend as saw bitterness on his face.

    “You met the Governor at the party after the Symphony last month. You were pretty turned on by that.”

    Zhenya snorted.

    “It was not as grand and wonderful as I thought.” He paused for a moment and as they came up to the Koronovs’ driveway, he said softly, “Sometimes, what you think is good and beautiful is really poison underneath and you miss the real goodness and beauty when it’s under your nose.”

    Robby stopped at the driveway as Zhenya walked on. He looked at the back of his friend, the stooped shoulders and the head looking down at the dirty slush under his feet. Could he mean something by that, he wondered

    Zhenya’s father was not home yet. The boys took their shoes off and left them by the door as they hung their coats on pegs by the mirror in the foyer. Robby followed Zhenya into the living room with the sheet music they had bought at the music store. Zhenya knelt before the record cabinet and withdrew an album, Deutsche Gramophone’s recording of the Berlin Philharmonic performing the Second Violin Concerto, the piece for which they had purchased the sheet music. Robby sat down on the couch as Zhenya set the record on the turntable and turned on the hi-fi. He pulled The Book from the shelf and turned on the lamp beside the couch as the beautiful piece began. He sat beside Robby, their legs touching, and opened the book toward the middle. As the music built in intensity, he flipped through the pages, glancing at each page, as Robby looked on.

    “Here it is,” said Zhenya as Robby looked at the incomprehensible Russian handwriting in the book. “1886. He’s in Paris. He is twenty-five. This must be just after the suicide of his love, Sergei.”

    “Who was Sergei?” Robby asked softly, almost reverently.

    “He studied with Dmitri in St. Petersburg,” Zhenya replied equally softly. They were in love. They met after Prince Anatoly was murdered. It says here that Dmitri left St. Petersburg after he received a letter from Sergei’s brother telling him that Sergei had shot himself. He says that he could not bare to look at the Neva without holding Sergei’s hand.”

    “What’s the Neva?” Robby asked breathlessly.

    “The river that runs through Leningrad. This was before Bolshevik Revolution and city was St. Petersburg then. He says he escaped to Paris. He says he wrote Second Concerto sitting in café. He dedicated it to Sergei because violin was Sergei’s favorite instrument.”

    “But, listen,” Robby said. “It sounds so happy. This doesn’t sound like something he would write if is boyfriend had just died.”

    Zhenya closed his eyes and listened.

    “Yes, it does,” he said quietly. “You really think it sounds happy?”

    Robby shrugged.

    “No,” said Zhenya. “It sounds sad, very sad, like his heart is breaking. Just think. Imagine. Dmitri is sitting alone in café in Paris. He is watching the crowds pass by. He is drinking wine and remembering the wonderful times with Sergei, when they would dance alone and sing and walk along Neva and love each other at night. Sergei was happy and joyful man and Dmitri is remembering how happy and joyful Sergei was and it is breaking his heart. Yes, music is happy, but it is heartbreaking happy. You understand?”

    Zhenya’s eyes remained closed the entire time he spoke. Robby gazed at the innocent yet knowing face of his friend and suddenly saw the wisdom and depth of feeling in Zhenya. The boy could feel the agony in Dmitri as the composer wrote this music. He had a profound understanding for the emotion underneath the music. Robby saw Zhenya clasp his hands atop The Book. The boy’s lower lip was quivering as he listened.

    “Do you not see him sitting at the table, crying?” Zhenya whispered.

    Robby put his arm around Zhenya and pulled him close. Zhenya leaned his head on Robby’s shoulder, his eyes still closed.

    “My grandfather’s uncle wrote this,” he whispered reverently. “It must have hurt so much.”

    Robby now understood. What had seemed joyful, almost like laughing, now seemed mournful. He could hear the tears beneath the laughter in the music.

    Zhenya snuggled closer.

    “Here’s the solo. Listen,” he whispered. Suddenly a sole violin burst from the momentary silence. It was like a howl of anguish, the torture of the innocent, followed by the soft whimper of suffering. It grew in strength, as if remembering happier days of sunshine and peace before wailing again the torment of one left behind. It was several minutes long and by the time it was over, tears were flowing down Zhenya’s cheeks, falling onto the shoulder of Robby’s sweater. Robby was sniffing.

    Zhenya looked up, his chin touching Robby’s cheek. He saw Robby’s red eyes, looking off toward the hi-fi.

    “You understand,” he whispered to Robby.

    The boy looked down at Zhenya, their mouths only an inch apart. Robby looked at the pale round face of the Russian boy, at the pink thin lips, the watery blue, pain-filled eyes. Without a thought he closed his eyes and lowered his lips to those of Zhenya and kissed him softly, lovingly. Zhenya was motionless for several seconds, but them kissed back, raising his right hand from The Book to hold the side of Robby’s face, his damp hand tenderly caressing the freckled cheek.

    As the next movement began, Robby pulled Zhenya closer with his right arm and wrapped his left arm around him, as well. Zhenya moaned softly, letting Robby take the lead and feeling the strength of his friend as he held him.

    Zhenya could barely breathe. His heart seemed to pound in his chest and he was fiercely, painfully erect in his tight slacks. He almost felt dizzy as Robby’s lips loved his.

    The unmistakable rumble of Dr. Koronov’s Volkswagen could be heard coming up the driveway. The boys opened their eyes and Robby pulled away slightly. He breathlessly looked down at Zhenya, whose lips were parted and who seemed speechless.

    “Your father’s home,” Robby whispered. Zhenya closed his mouth and nodded. Robby pulled away and sat facing the stereo. Both boys’ eyes were red from the emotion of the moment. When the front door opened, Zhenya made no effort to return The Book to the shelf, as he had the time his father had walked in on him and Ian reading it. He held it over his lap as his Papa entered the living room.

    “Zhenyechka, my boy. You…”

    His father stopped and saw the red eyes of the two boys and heard the third movement of the Second Concerto. He stood for a moment, listening. Finally, he smiled.

    “Zhenka, you have been reading of Dmitri’s life when he wrote the Second Concerto.”

    Zhenya nodded. His father smiled sadly.

    “I see that you understand more than I realized.”

    “Da, Papa.”

    The man walked over and placed his hand on Zhenya’s head.

    “Ya lyubyu vac, moyevo suiina.”

    Zhenya closed his eyes.

    “Ya lyubyu vac, Papu.”

000

    It was a perfectly clear sky as Ethan huddled in his coat and walked along the deserted sidewalks of the neighborhood. He had paid no attention to where he was going. After dinner, he had just announced to his mother, who had become accustomed to her son’s strange behavior over the last few weeks, that he was going out for a walk. Allison simply rolled her eyes with disgust and said nothing.

    Because of the clear night, the air was bitterly cold. Ethan was walking along the south side of the school, the back side. As he breathed, he could see long, great clouds of vapor forming before his face and sparkling in the cold, lonely silver-blue of the street lights. He could hear traffic in the distance, but the bitter cold seemed to make it sound more distant than usual. He had a knit hat over his head and a scarf across his face that was becoming moist from his breath.

    He was as bitter as the cold. His friends had all abandoned him merely because he had discovered how cool pot was. His mother hadn’t even noticed he was smoking pot and he knew he wasn’t that good at hiding it. Allison knew, but she merely looked at him with the same contempt as always. There was no change there.

    It was Robby that really torqued him. Robby and Matt. Robby claimed that he loved him, but Robby sure took off when Ethan didn’t conform, didn’t he? If Robby thought smoking pot was so bad and if he loved Ethan as much as he said he did, why didn’t he do more to make him stop? Because, underneath it all, he didn’t really love Ethan. So… what did it matter.

    Then, there was Matt. What was up with him? OK, so he gets to pretend that he’s all nice and respectable and middle class now and so he’s too good to hang with Ethan now? Too good to get and high and get it on with him?

    His dad was crazy, his mother a sell-out, his friends two-faced. Fuck ‘em all! And, now, he didn’t know where to get any more pot. He was all out and he was furious and it was cold and he didn’t have any friends and he was so full of rage and he didn’t know why and all he wanted to do was scream and take a stick and hit something! God! Everyone and everything was so FUCKED!

    He stormed around the east side of the school, along State St., and up to 18^th. Up ahead, he could see Sean’s house. There were several lights on. He hoped Matt was happy now that he got to wear cool clothes and have Sean do his homework for him and get easy sex every night. He probably hiked his butt for Sean’s gay grandfather! Yeah, that was the secret of it all.

    Ethan spat toward the house and threw his finger up as he passed. He crossed 18^th and threw a finger toward Robby’s house up the street. There wasn’t a light on in Robby’s window. Great. He was probably at Zhenya’s pretending to be a great violin virtuoso with his new little friend.

    A frigid north wind kicked up just before he crossed into the shelter of the house beside him and for a second he shivered. When he crossed the alley, the wind hit him again and then disappeared as he crossed in front of a house.

    He could hear a violin. No, he could hear two violins. He was approaching Zhenya’s house. Yes, upstairs. He could see the light on in Zhenya’s room. He stopped and listened. It seemed to be a happy piece, at least superficially is sounded happy. Yet, there was a quality to it that made him want to cry and suddenly, standing there alone in the cold, ice forming on the scarf over his mouth and nose, a frigid breeze stinging his cheeks and eyes, tears formed and flowed down his face, stopping at the wool scarf.

    Ethan cried as he stumbled forward, his feet slipping on the sidewalk. He balled his fists up and held them to his eyes as he cried is eyes out, staggering up the street.

    Snot was dripping down his nose and forming blobs on his scarf as he reached Providence. There were only a few cars out in the freezing night and he slowly staggered across the street unthreatened. There was silence from Lake Windermere as he walked uncertainly along the chain-link fence around the frozen pond. It was almost completely frozen over and he could see nothing living around it as he made his way toward his house.

    As he reached the west end of the lake, he stood leaning against the freezing iron bar across the top. He could see the lights of St. Luke’s Hospital and the bank building south of the park on Providence rising above the houses and the naked trees beyond. The lights shined across the uneven ice of the lake and seemed to amplify the cold.

    He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, as his cries of despair returned. He was almost hanging over the fence as his body was wracked with sobs when he was suddenly startled by an arm around his shoulder. He jumped.

    “It’s OK, Ethan, it’s only me.”

    Thad was standing beside him, a ski jacket on and a woolen cap over his head. Ethan closed his eyes and seemed to collapse into the fifteen year-old. Thad put his arms around him as Ethan leaned against him and sobbed.

    “Let it out, let it out,” Thad muttered as he held the boy. “It’s OK. Let it out.”

    After a moment, as his crying began once again to subside, Thad led Ethan over to a bench along the walk. They sat down and Ethan snuggled into Thad’s taller, lankier body, the teenager’s arms still wrapped around him.

    “You’re not alone, Ethan,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”

    “Nobody gives a shit about me,” he declared forlornly. “Nobody.”

    “I do.”

    Ethan snorted.

    “You don’t know me. Besides, you’re queer. You probably just want to get in my pants.”

    “Hey,” Thad replied firmly. “I’m not Ian. I told him where to go. I do care. And I know you’re heartbroken. I know you’re going through Hell right now. I know that nobody wants to have anything to do with you. I know that you’ve been smoking pot like a fiend since before Thanksgiving. I know you’ve lost Robby and I know you lost Matt.”

    Thad was looking down at the twelve year-old. Ethan looked up in surprise.

    “How do you know all this?” he asked, his voice still weepy as he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

    “I go to school with your sister’s boyfriend.”

    Ethan looked away bitterly.

    “Oh, great. Now, everyone’s talking about what a loser I am.”

    Thad squeezed him and leaned his head down.

    “No, no, Ethan. No one’s talking about you. You’re sister is worried sick about you, but she’s afraid to say anything to you. Chad thought about it, but he was afraid you’d just get angry with Allison. They know I know you and they have a pretty good idea that I’m, well, queer and they know about you and, by the way, they don’t care that you’re gay, anyway they thought I could talk to you and see what we could do for you. Well, I was up in my room tonight and I looked out the window and saw you here, so I came out.”

    Ethan sniffed and looked off toward the hospital rising above the houses.

    “Ethan, you want to tell me about it?”

    “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want everyone to leave me alone. I just want to get high and I want everyone to leave me alone.”

    Thad sighed.

    “I like getting high sometimes.”

    Ethan looked at the teenager excitedly.

    “You have some? Can you get me high?”

    Thad shook his head.

    “No, I don’t have any.”

    Ethan’s shoulders slumped in bitter disappointment as Thad continued.

    “I just meant that sometimes, I get high, like at a party or something. But, Ethan, you got it bad. There’s something wrong here, Ethan.”

    “There’s nothing wrong. I just like to get high.”

    “All the time.”

    “So what?”

    So, you’ve lost all your friends and Allison says you never do homework anymore so I guess you’re probably flunking all your classes…”

    “She can quit spying on me, fucking bitch!”

    “Stop it, Ethan! Stop it.”

    Ethan bit his lip in anger and frustration as Thad tightened his hold on the boy.

    “Let go of me,” he demanded, trying to pull away from Thad.

    “No,” Thad replied as Ethan began to struggle.

    “Let go of me! Let go of me!”

    “Stop it!” Thad said as he held the fighting boy. Finally Ethan sighed gave up. He collapsed against Thad again and the two just sat there, Thad holding the boy for several minutes.

    “Ethan, don’t give up on your family and friends. They all love you. And, don’t give up on yourself. You’re a cool guy and I was serious when I said that if I were twelve again, I’d go after you. I want you to know that I’m your friend and if you ever want to talk or just hang or do anything, let me know. I’ll always be there, OK?”

    Ethan looked down in embarrassment and nodded. He sniffed and quietly, in almost a whisper, said, “Thank you. I guess I ought to go back in now.”

    Slowly he stood and turned toward Thad. Their eyes met for a moment and Ethan smiled sadly.

    “Thanks.”

    Thad nodded and smiled.

    “I meant what I said.”

    Thad sat on the bench alone and watched Ethan as the boy crossed the park and the street and climbed the winding walk up to his house. He didn’t stand until he saw the front door of the Spencer house open and close. He then wiped away his own tears and turned toward his house.

000

    “Allison, Ethan, I have something to tell you,” Emily Spencer declared as she poured two bowels of Life cereal for her children Friday morning. “I’m riding the train into the City this afternoon. I have to meet with your father to discuss a few issues and I have a few other people I need to see while I’m there.”

    “Are you and Dad getting back together?” Allison asked excitedly.

    “No!” Emily replied emphatically as Allison frowned and looked back down at the kitchen table. “We are most definitely not getting back together. However, it’s possible he may be moving to Sheffield.”

    Both children looked up with surprise.

    “He’s applying for a position in the English Department at Sheffield State.”

    “Why not Sheffield College?” Allison asked. “Why Sheffield State? That’s for losers.”

    “It’s not for losers. There’s nothing wrong with state schools, Miss Academic Snob. May I remind you I went to a state school?”

    “Mom,” Ethan countered. “You went to Berkeley and then law school at Michigan. It’s not the same.”

    “Whatever,” she said dismissively as she placed the cereal bowls before them. “The point is that I’m leaving the two of you here alone for the weekend. Allison, I do not want Chad spending the night, as if you’ll listen to me. And, if he does, for God’s sake, use protection. I can’t afford to send you out of the country for an abortion. And, you,” she finished with a serious look at Ethan. “No pot inside the house. I won’t have this place smelling like you’re father’s love pad in the Village.”

    Ethan looked sheepishly down at his bowl and said nothing.

    “Now, I’ll be staying with the Rosens, you know, on West 89^th. Here’s the phone number and the address. No calls unless it’s an emergency. And, you know what I mean by emergency. I don’t want to hear about Ethan playing Peeping Tom while you make out with Chad on the couch. The house had better be burning down or one of you had better be kidnapped or poisoned before you call. Got it?”

    Allison gave a sarcastic raised eyebrow.

    “Thanks for caring.”

    The news, however, was the first to bring cheer to Ethan in some time. He began to imagine all kinds of exciting scenarios in which to revel in his weekend freedom. The first idea was to seek out Robby and try to make amends for the last month and a half. As he walked to school, his eyes hurting from the brilliant sunlight reflected off the ice and snow, he imagined how the conversation would go and grew happier and more confident as he approached the school and played through Robby’s joyful and grateful acceptance for the fifth or sixth time.

    He saw Robby already entering the Social Studies classroom with Zhenya as he arrived at his locker. He hurriedly hung his coat and pulled out his notebook and text and walked quickly to class so that he could have time to talk with Robby before the bell rang.

    Zhenya was just leaving Robby’s desk and heading back toward his as Ethan entered. He smiled at Zhenya, who seemed pleased that he would greet him. Robby looked at him warily as he approached.

    “Robby,” he said with excitement, “Mom’s going to see Dad in the City tonight and won’t be back ‘til Sunday night. Allison and I have the house to ourselves for the whole weekend! And, um, I was wondering if maybe you might want to sleepover. It’ll be just like old times. We’ll play chess and Risk and I’m not gonna, well, you know. It’ll just be us. It’ll be just like before. You don’t have to worry about me doing you know what. I promise. It’ll be wonderful. You’ll see. Please.”

    Robby looked down at his desk uncomfortably. This was not the reaction Ethan had fantasized.

    “Well, I can’t tonight. Maybe tomorrow. You see, Zhenya’s father is taking him and me and Sean and Matt and Sean’s grandfather to an organ recital at Trinity Cathedral tonight and then I’m spending the night with Zhenya.”

    Robby paused a moment and when he saw the look on Ethan’s face, a look of betrayal, he quickly added, “You can probably come with us to the recital. I don’t think Zhenya or his Dad would mind at all.”

    Mr. Osborn entered the room. Ethan stood up and looked down at Robby.

    “I guess you and Zhenya are pretty good friends now.”

    Robby looked back down at his desk.

    “Well, I mean, you’ve been kind of, well, you know, and so I’ve been spending more time with Zhenya and, well, like, he’s really cool and…”

    Ethan frowned and turned away as the bell rang. He seemed to walk automatically to his desk and for the rest of the hour, he spent most of the class looking out the window. Mr. Osborn noticed, but said nothing until after the bell rang for the end of the class.

    “Don’t worry, Mr. Osborn,” he said as he walked past his teacher’s desk. “I’m not high today.”

    Mr. Osborn looked understandingly at the boy and smiled.

    “I’m proud of you. Why don’t you come see me after school.”

    Ethan smiled sadly and nodded before exiting the classroom.

    During Second Hour French, his practicing with Robby went better than usual as he was reasonably conscious and could actually remember what Madame Creneau had taught. However, he was so far behind, that Robby had much remedial work to do with him. Ethan remained focused and struggled through the hour without embarrassing himself too much. The rest of the morning went by without incident until lunch. Robby and Zhenya had found a table and were sitting together, as they had done for weeks, when Ethan approached with his tray.

    “Do you mind if I sit with you today?” he asked uncertainly.

    “No, no. Sit!” said Robby hurriedly. Zhenya smiled happily.

    “Where’s Sean and Matt?” Ethan asked as he set his tray down.

    “They’re at the court hearing,” Robby replied. “The next time we see Matt, he’ll be Sean’s big brother!” he added with a chuckle.

    “Will he really be his brother?” Zhenya asked.

    “Naw. Not legally. His grandfather’s not really adopting him. Just becoming his guardian. We just tease Sean about having a big brother now.”

    However, just as he spoke, Sean and Matt entered the cafeteria together, both dressed in grey slacks with a coat and tie, and they were not smiling. Matt, in fact, looked downright angry. When he finally emerged from the cafeteria line and marched over to their table, he dropped his tray at his place and dropped into the chair. He angrily loosened his tie as Sean quietly sat beside Ethan.

    “What’s the matter?” Robby asked fearfully.

    “The fuckin’ judge. The fuckin’ Dietrichs,” Matt barked.

    Sean frowned.

    ‘The judge in family court said that a “procedural objection” had been raised about Granddad’s suitability to be a guardian. Someone said he’s not fit to be Matt’s guardian and we now have to go to state court and guess who the judge is.”

    “No way!” Robby declared. Zhenya’s mouth fell open. Ethan threw down his fork in disgust.

    “Gavin Dietrich’s grandfather.”

    Sean nodded with his lips pursed.

    “Motherfucker,” Matt spat.

    “Why’s he got it in for your grandfather?” Robby asked Sean, who immediately blushed and seemed even more disconcerted than before.

    “Um, well, it’s a long story and it happened a long time ago.”

    He said nothing further, but took a bite of his roll. Robby didn’t pursue the subject. Matt furiously ate.

    “Don’t worry, Matt,” said Sean. “We’ll figure a way out of this. We got your mom on our side and Pastor and Granddad’s lawyer is one of the best in Sheffield.”

    “Hey, my Mom’s pretty good,” Ethan offered. “Maybe she could help.”

    “Well, we have to do something,” said Sean. “Because no matter what, Matt’s living with us.”

    Sean looked at Matt, who looked back at the younger boy and contained his anger long enough to smile and nod.

000

    Ethan stood at the living room window and watched Chad’s Mustang pull away as his sister and her boyfriend went off to dinner and a concert at the arena. He was alone on a Friday night. He had no one with whom to share, no pot to smoke, no way to take advantage of his freedom. He felt so alone, so sad, so deeply, painfully sad. He looked across the park at Thad’s house. Thad had held him the night before and allowed him to cry on his shoulder. Thad was a good guy, a bit of a dork, but sincere and well-meaning. And, Ethan knew Thad liked him. But, Ethan was through using people.

    Ethan jumped. The telephone rang. He turned and slowly walked to the table by the couch and picked up the receiver.

    “Spencer residence,” he said without emotion.

    “What are you wearing?” said the quiet, raspy whisper.

    “What?” Ethan demanded. “Who is this?”

    There was sudden laughter on the other end and a happy voice announced, “This is Thad. How’s it going, Ethan?”

    The boy rolled his eyes, and in spite of himself, he smiled.

    “I’m OK,” he answered sheepishly.

    “No you’re not. You were moping by the front window. When Chad and Allison drove off, you looked like you were gonna slit your wrists.”

    Ethan spun around toward the window.

    “How’d you know that?”

    Thad chuckled.

    “’Cause I’m standing in my window with a pair of binoculars watching you. By the way, I’m naked and, if you look closely at my window, you can see my hard-on sticking up.”

    Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he strained to look.

    “Caught ya, ya pervert!” Thad cackled as he laughed again. Ethan flipped off the window.

    “Now, that was naughty. What if a neighbor saw you. Oh, wait. A neighbor did see you! Me!”

    “Talk about perverts, looking in people’s windows with binoculars!”

    “Hey, it’s only your window. You’re the only interesting person in the neighborhood, well, except for that cute nine year-old three houses up from you.”

    “Man, you are a pervert.”

    “So, listen. You’re Mom’s in New York. Your sister’s at Chez Whatever with Chad the Walking Hormone who, by the way, is going to fuck her lights out tonight. She’s gonna quit teasin’ his prick and finally let him pork her. Why don’t we hang with each other. I hear you’re a shitty chess player, so we ought to be evenly matched. I’ll bring some PBR over and we can listen to some Jimi.”

    “Why don’t you bring some weed over and I’ll let you in.”

    “Naw, little dude. No can do.”

    “Aw, come on. You’re already going to Hell for getting me drunk. We might as well enjoy it.”

    “No way. Besides, you’re only getting one bottle. Just enough to loosen your inhibitions so I can get into your pants.”

    “Dream on, faggot. I’m only into pussy.”

    “Yeah, that’s what you’re Old Lady says, but I don’t believe it. See ya in two.”

    Ethan put down the phone and smiled. Maybe he wasn’t completely alone after all.

000

    Robby genuflected as he entered the pew in Trinity Cathedral behind Zhenya, Matt, Sean, and Sean’s grandfather. He was the only one who had, but he had seen several elderly people up ahead do it and he thought it was the respectful thing to do, even though he was Presbyterian. He looked at his friends as they settled in beside him. Matt’s eyes were wide as he looked around at the ornate Gothic style Episcopal cathedral. He had never seen anything like it. Zhenya, on the other hand, had seen numerous churches and cathedrals in Prague, Leningrad, and Moscow, though they were used only as museums now. Even so, they were spectacular and made Trinity Cathedral look like a village church. He wasn’t impressed.

    A man in a tuxedo came out and stood before the sanctuary and beside the pulpit, announcing the organist for the recital, who was the chief organist of the cathedral and professor of organ at Sheffield College.

    “He’s gonna go back there and play with his organ,” Robby heard Matt whisper to Sean, who gave him a quick elbow in the ribs, eliciting only a mischievous chuckle from his boyfriend. Robby grinned, though Zhenya seemed totally mystified, still not completely understanding the intricacies of American slang and idioms.

    Suddenly, a loud organ work burst through the cathedral and the boys jumped. The three Americans recognized it as the piece that evil, mad geniuses always play in cheap horror films. Zhenya, of course, knew it as Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. They sat and listened and even Matt seemed to get into it after a bit.

    Robby’s hand was resting on the pew between him and Zhenya. After a few minutes, Zhenya’s hand moved over and his finger touched Robby’s. Robby didn’t move and a few seconds later, Zhenya’s fingers moved on top of Robby’s. Once again, his hand remained motionless. A minute after this, Zhenya’s hand lay completely atop Robby’s. Only then did Robby close his fingers around Zhenya’s thin hand, holding it warmly and for the rest of the recital, they let go of each other only to applaud.

    As they filed out of the cathedral at the end of the recital, Matt shivered dramatically while walking down the front steps and declared, “Damn! It’s colder than a witches tit tonight!”

    “You are pussy!” Zhenya said with grin. “If you want to feel cold, go to Moskva! This is just autumn weather in Soviet Union!”

    Matt sneered, “There he goes again. Always trying to outdo us Americans!”

    Zhenya was grinning as they walked along the downtown street toward Mr. Lindquist’s Studebaker.

    “In R-r-russia, we have only vodka to keep us warm!”

    “Hey, maybe Russia’s not so bad after all! What do you think, Gramps,” Matt said looking mischievously at Sean’s grandfather. “How ‘bout a few shots when we get home. You know, just to warm up.”

    Mr. Lindquist raised a hand as if he were going to bop Matt on the head and said, “I’ll put you to work shoveling that sidewalk you were supposed to take care of this afternoon! That will warm you up!”

    “Ooops!” said Matt with a sheepish grin as the others laughed.

    Sean and Matt sat together in the front seat beside Mr. Lindquist as he drove back toward their neighborhood, while Zhenya and Robby took the back. Once again, in the dark where no one could see, they held hands until the Studebaker turned off Providence onto 18^th and stopped in front of Zhenya’s house. The two boys shouted their good-byes and thanks and ran to the porch.

    Once safely inside, they shed their coats and hats, hanging them on the pegs in the foyer as Dr.     Koronov emerged from the kitchen.

    “Ah! Zhenyechka and Malinovka! You are home. I have hot cocoa waiting for you in the kitchen.”

    Zhenya grinned and led Robby up the hallway.

    “What did he call me?” Robby asked as Dr. Koronov followed.

    “Malinovka means “r-r-robin” in R-r-russian,” Zhenya explained as his father poured the cocoa from the pan into three cups.

    “So tell me all about recital,” he said leading the boys into the living room. The boys sat on the couch, but not very closely, as Zhenya’s father took a chair near the fireplace. They chatted for some time until Zhenya’s father yawned.

    “I must go to bed. You boys do not plan to play your violins all night, I hope?”

    Zhenya grinned as he hopped up from the couch and handed his cup to his father.

    “No, Papa. Of course not. But, can I put the record player on if I turn it down low?”

    “Of course. I have a cot in your room all ready for Robby. Don’t stay up too very late.”

    He smiled warmly at Robby as he took his cup and the two boys hurried from the living room and up the stairs.

    The cot was in the center of the room, parallel to Zhenya’s bed. Zhenya blushed uncertainly as he stood looking at it, not knowing whether he should refer to it or not. Robby knew what was going through his mind and enjoyed watching him fumble around. He walked over and put his arm around the boy and smiled down at him.

    “You look very handsome in your coat and tie,” he whispered. Zhenya smiled happily and looked down in embarrassment.

    “You do, too,” he replied. “But, you always look handsome.

    Robby kissed his forehead and stepped away as he began to loosen his tie and remove his blazer. He carefully hung it over the back of the chair in front of Zhenya’s desk as Zhenya hung his in the closet. Silently, the continued to undress until they were down to their underwear. Robby had brought pajamas with him, despite the fact that after his first sleepover at Ethan’s, he had never done so again. Zhenya was wearing only his tight white briefs and his back was to Robby as he opened the dresser and withdrew green cotton pajamas. He glanced back nervously at Robby, who quickly slipped his briefs down, exposing his penis, still flaccid from his nerves and uncertainty, and slipped his pajama bottoms on. Politely looking away, he allowed Zhenya privacy as he quickly did the same.

    Robby sat on the edge of his cot facing Zhenya’s bed and commented, “You know, Matt and Sean sure seem happy with each other.”

    “Yes,” Zhenya replied walking between Robby and his bed. He stooped in front of his record cabinet and pulled out Dmitri Koronov’s Seventh Piano Concerto and put it on the record player. It was quiet and romantic. He returned to the door and flipped off the overhead light, leaving only the dim bedside lamp and the tiny nightlight beside the desk to bathe the room in a soft glow. He sat down on the edge of his bed, opposite Robby, and smiled.

    “Dmitri was living in Vienna when he wrote this. He was tutoring the son of a Hapsburg duke. I think he was pretty happy and probably in love with the boy when he composed this.”

    He gave a knowing grin and Robby grinned back.

    “I don’t care that Dmitri liked boys. I think it’s sweet. He seems like a wonderful man and his music is the most beautiful I’ve ever heard. It’s too bad people can’t read Dmitri’s autobiography and see the beauty and pain in his life the way it really was and not the way they would probably see it. They would probably let all their prejudices color the way they’d look at him and they wouldn’t understand the beauty and pain.”

    “You understand,” Zhenya whispered.

    Robby looked at Zhenya and nodded, feeling a sudden breathless energy within. The music seemed to suddenly accelerate and become bolder, matching the increase in his heartbeat. His eyes met Zhenya’s and he saw the boy’s face flush.

    Zhenya gazed at Robby, in love with the thick red hair atop his head, the freckles across his face, the green eyes gazing so helplessly at him. As the music reached a crescendo and suddenly became quiet, Zhenya saw Robby seem to change with the music. It seemed that he was stiffening, his body struggling to contain a vast energy as the music grew in strength until it collapsed. He seemed to let his breath out as the music diminished.

    Zhenya pulled back the covers beside him and scooted back on the bed, slipping his feet beneath. He smiled shyly at Robby and patted the bed beside him. Robby looked nervously toward the door. Zhenya shook his head reassuringly. Neither boy had spoken. Robby slowly rose from the cot, the front of his pajamas tented out. He nervously sat down and slid around. He looked down at Zhenya’s face and saw the trust that shown in the boy’s eyes. He slid down and the two snuggled closely together as Robby pulled the covers up.

000

    Ethan stood in the front door watching through the glass screen as Thad loped across the park from his house. He felt a sense of relief and anticipation as the lanky teenager ran up the steps. Ethan smiled as he looked at the goofy grin on Thad’s face.

    “Where’s the beer?” he demanded only half jokingly as the teenager entered the foyer. Thad closed the front door and chuckled.

    “That was just a ruse to get you to invite me over.”

    Ethan smirked in irritation.

    “And the Jimi Hendrix?”

    “Oh, come on. You don’t think my parents would let me listen to him, do you? You’re the one with the cool, liberal mother.”

    Thad hung his coat in the closet and lumbered into the living room, flopping down on the couch under the picture window. He pointed to the stereo and grinned.

    “Well?”

    He started playing air guitar and wailed, “’Scuse me while I kiss the sky!”

    Ethan shook his head as he walked toward the stereo.

    “You really should not do that. It’s just not right.”

    Thad grinned and patted the couch beside him.

    “Screw Jimi. I don’t really listen to him, anyway. Come here and sit down. We need to talk.”

    Ethan looked at him with suspicion and approached. He hesitated for a moment until Thad smiled reassuringly. He sat beside teen, though he folded his hands formally in his lap.

    “Look, I know life’s been pretty tough for you lately. I know you were pretty upset last night. And, I guess you and Robby are probably on the skids.”

    “Yeah, well, you guess right,” Ethan replied bitterly. “Robby’s moved on. He got the hots for Zhenya now.”

    Thad nodded.

    “I kinda figured. If Robby’s not spending the night when your mom’s in New York, then I guess something’s wrong.”

    “Yeah, well. Who needs him?”

    “You do.”

    Ethan remained silent, merely staring morosely at the carpet in front of them. Thad continued.

    “Look, Ethan, I don’t know if things are ever gonna get better between you two or not. But, to be honest, these things happen. Guys go through girlfriends all the time. I know it hurts and this is probably the first time it’s ever happened to you. But, you fucked up, man. And, I’m not comin’ down on ya,” he added as Ethan looked angrily at him. “I’m really not comin’ down on ya. I understand. But, you did fuck up. Robby’s just not the kind of kid who does drugs.”

    “Pot’s not…” Ethan started to protest. Thad held up a hand and interrupted.

    “I know. I know. I’ve smoked pot before. I don’t really get off on it, but I know what you mean. But, you have to put yourself in Robby’s place. Think about it from his point of view. He’s never been around it. He hasn’t seen what you’ve seen, met the people you’ve met. It’s gonna scare him.”

    “He didn’t even give me a chance.”

    “A chance to do what? Come on, Ethan. Robby was afraid of becoming a drug addict. Maybe he exaggerated his fears out of ignorance, but look at what happened. What happened, Ethan? Come on. What happened?”

    Ethan said nothing. He pursed his lips and glared at the carpet.

    “Ethan, you just spent the last month stoned off your ass every day, going to class stoned, walking around Lake Windermere like a stoner. You were fuckin’ around with Matt Hunter every day until he moved in with Sean. Did you really like that? Do you really want to live that way?”

    Ethan closed his eyes. Thad continued.

    “Look, I’m not some goody-two-shoes who says never do drugs. I like to get messed up sometimes. I like having sex. Hell, Ian used to fuck me two or three times a week before I told him to fuck himself. OK, I’m a doofus and everyone thinks I’m a dork. But, I’ve seen shit and I know what’s happening. Not everyone turns into some Reefer Madness fiend when they smoke pot. But, look what happened to you! For a month, you went around in a daze. You’ll be lucky to pass anything this semester. Dude, you gotta wake up. You’ve probably lost your boyfriend over this. What else are you gonna lose?”

    Ethan jumped up in fury and glared at Thad for a moment before tears formed in his eyes. He stood for moment fighting the urge to cry before the sobs broke through. He fell to his knees before Thad and wept. Thad crawled off the couch and held him. He caressed the boy’s face as Ethan cried. After a moment, Ethan clung to Thad as the sobs subsided. They leaned back against the couch.

    “I love getting high, but… none of my friends will have anything to do with me and I am fucking up my schoolwork and all I want to do is get high and beat off and I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

    Thad held him and kissed his forehead. He caressed the boy’s face and squeezed him tightly.

    “I know. I know. If you need a friend now, if you need someone to listen or help or whatever, you can lean on me now. I don’t mind.”

    Ethan sniffed.

    “Why are you being so good to me?”

    Thad closed his eyes and smiled as he held Ethan.

    “Because I think you’re the coolest guy I ever met. I don’t care that you’re four years younger than me. You are so fucking cool. You don’t care what people think. You don’t fit into any mold. You’re just Ethan. And, I think that’s beautiful. Plus…”

    Here, he opened his eyes and took Ethan’s face in his hands, “I think you’re the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen. I’ve been in love with you since the day you moved here. I know you probably don’t like me that way. Everyone thinks I’m a doofus and I know I look goofy and I’m too tall and skinny and I’m not too coordinated and I’m always falling over my feet and shit. But, I like to think I’m a good guy and I’d do anything to help you. You don’t have to get high to have great sex. You can have beautiful, hot, loving sex with the right guy. Maybe I’m not the right guy, but I’d like to try, if you’d give me the chance. I’d do anything to help you, Ethan, and I’d do anything to make you happy, ‘cause… I love you.”

    Ethan looked at Thad in shock as the teenager raced through his speech. Thad spoke quickly, fearing he would chicken out before he said everything he had wanted to. Ethan paused for a moment and when Thad blushed and looked down in shame, Ethan reached up with his left hand and touched the side of Thad’s face. Thad looked up hopefully and saw Ethan smile. Ethan snuggled close to the teenager as Thad wrapped his arms again around the younger boy. Neither said anything as Thad held Ethan, his eyes closed and a serene smile on his face.

000

    Robby lay beside Zhenya, his left arm under the smaller boy’s head, his body half atop Zhenya’s. Their faces were only inches apart as Dmitri Koronov’s Seventh Piano Concerto played softly in the background. Zhenya looked up at Robby with such trust and love as Robby brought his right hand up to his face. He traced his fingers along the almost delicate cheeks, the soft, almost invisible eyebrows, the thin pink lips.

    Softly, almost imperceptibly, his eyes locked on Robby’s, Zhenya whispered, “Love me.”

    “I do,” Robby whispered back. “I am.”

    Slowly, his lips descended until they softly touched Zhenya’s. Gently, the two kissed, their eyes closed, soft butterfly kisses. As the First Movement ended, during the few seconds of silence until the Second began, Robby reached down and began to undo the buttons down the front of Zhenya’s pajama shirt as his lips continued to softly, lovingly kiss Zhenya’s. When the shirt was open, he gently pulled it apart under the covers and then reached for the snap atop the pajama bottoms. He opened the fly of Zhenya’s pajamas, releasing the small, rigid penis. Resisting the urge to touch it, he brought his hand up to Zhenya’s face again, caressing it once more with the tips of his fingers. He pressed his lips down more firmly and pushed his tongue forward, feeling the initial resistance of Zhenya’s lips yield to his tongue. Slowly, he entered Zhenya’s mouth, their tongues touching and sliding against each other, their breaths mixing, their love uniting.

    After several minutes of dominating Zhenya’s mouth, Robby rolled to the side and slid his pajama bottoms down his legs, kicking them away under the covers. He pulled his top over his head and sat naked beside Zhenya, who slipped his pajama top off his shoulders and looked up at Robby with worshipful eyes. Laying atop the open shirt, Zhenya moaned as Robby rolled over atop him. Robby’s hunger for Zhenya was growing and he growled as he opened his mouth and began to devour the boy’s thin throat. Zhenya writhed beneath him as Robby’s lips and tongue bathed his throat and sent chills through him. As the sensations grew too intense, he tried to protect himself by raising his shoulder and moving his chin down, but Robby forced his face in between and Zhenya almost squealed with fear and desire. Robby attacked Zhenya’s immature Adam’s apple, loving it with his lips and tongue and causing the boy to twist and squirm beneath him.

    Finally, Zhenya could take no more. Why a cry, he grabbed Robby’s head and pulled it upward. Robby grinned down at the boy as Zhenya shuddered beneath him and gasped.

    “I love you, Zhenya,” he whispered. Zhenya could say nothing. He lay breathing heavily beneath as Robby gradually slid down his body. When his face was even with Zhenya’s chest, he leaned down and breathed on Zhenya’s left nipple. As the warm moist breath flowed over it, Zhenya writhed again, closing his eyes and moaning. Slowly, Robby leaned down and touched the tip of his tongue against the tip of the rigid little nubbin. Zhenya grunted and pushed his chest upward, forcing Robby’s tongue against his nipple. Robby sucked and loved it, licking all around it and making Zhenya twist and squirm in ecstasy beneath him. Robby moved to his left and began to love Zhenya’s other nipple. The smaller boy began to repeat his actions as the amazing feelings exploded through his young body.

    Robby soon sat up, resting on Zhenya’s legs, and gazed down in love at the pretty, delicate boy beneath him. Zhenya looked up at him with adoration and whispered, “I love you, R-R-Robby.”

    “I love you, Zhenya. I guess I’ve loved you since the first day of school. I just didn’t know it ‘till the other day.”

    “What about Ethan?”

    Robby looked away.

    “Ethan loves something else, now.”

    After a moment, he looked back and down at the rigid little hairless penis throbbing stiffly between Zhenya’s legs. It looked so beautiful to Robby and he had the almost irrepressible urge to kiss it. Slowly, he scooted back and between Zhenya’s legs. He looked down at Zhenya’s erection and watched it bob with the boy’s heartbeat. He had never seen an erect penis with a foreskin and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, a penis the way God had intended it. The shaft was almost three inches long and the foreskin was pulled back slightly to reveal the tip of the cone at the end. Zhenya’s tiny balls were pulled up tight against the base of the penis. It looked so innocent and pure and Robby needed to kiss it.

    He did. He leaned down and as Zhenya felt his breath on his penis, he moaned softly. Robby’s lips touched the shaft below the head for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make the boy groan. The penis snapped upward in response, bobbing against Robby’s lips and nose. He reached forward and pulled it upward, pointing it toward his face and gazing below it at the bare skin above the shaft where hair would one day grow. He pulled the penis back further and leaned down, kissing the bare skin above and running his tongue across it. Zhenya took a sharp, deep breath as Robby’s tongue traced around the base of his penis toward his balls. He licked and kissed them, causing Zhenya to squirm with delight beneath the persistent tongue.

    “Oh, R-r-robby! R-r-robby!” he cried. Robby smiled as he loved the boy’s balls, kissing them lovingly and caressing the smooth alabaster of his thighs. Suddenly, he moved his mouth up and sucked the entire penis into his mouth. Zhenya cried out.

    “Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!” as he writhed beneath Robby, unable to lay still as the feelings exploded within him. He could feel the love of the boy above him as Robby sucked him and it made the feeling even more exquisite and glorious. He grabbed the sheets beneath him and threw his head back.

    Robby felt the boy stiffen beneath him and suddenly Zhenya gasped. His penis began to click in his mouth as he realized Zhenya was experiencing an immature orgasm. Gradually, the boy relaxed and Robby pulled away, gazing down at the angelic boy beneath him. He felt such a love at that moment, a need to hold and protect him, a desire to love him, to feel him, to taste him.

    He lay atop Zhenya and scooted up the boy’s body, his fiercely erect penis sliding between the boy’s thighs. Zhenya felt the erection rising between his legs and Robby gasped at the feeling of his penis between the warm thighs.

    Zhenya felt Robby’s penis sliding against his balls and scrotum. He wanted Robby. He wanted Robby within him. Instinctively, he tightened his thighs against Robby’s erection and thrust his hips upward, sliding his still stiff little penis against Robby’s abdomen. Robby grunted as the feelings exploded through his penis. He thrust downward, forcing his penis deep between Zhenya’s thighs. Over and over, he fucked downward between the boy’s legs, groaning and moaning, laying atop the delicate, beautiful boy, gazing with love at the delicate, beautiful face.

    As the feelings built and grew more intense, Robby moaned, his eyes closing and his face cringing in ecstasy.

    “Oh, Zhenya, oh, Zhenya, oh, Zhenya! Uhhhh!”

    As Robby thrust downward hard, Zhenya thrust upward and cried out as he orgasmed a second time. He felt the warm ejaculation from Robby’s penis between his legs and that added to the delirium he felt.

    As the record ended, so, too, did Robby’s orgasm. He collapsed atop Zhenya and sighed with contentment.

    “I love you, Zhenya,” he whispered in the boy’s ear.

    “Ya lubyu vac, Malinovku,” Zhenya replied. “I love you, R-r-robby.