Hikaru—Ru, as we’d started calling him—pushed past my son and barreled through my front door to run up to me and hug my legs. “Jiji, can you make me some tea?”
Holden blinked, his eyes going shiny as he recognized the Japanese nickname forgrandfather. He reached for Beckett, whose eyes were just as bright. Beckett’s understanding of Japanese was minimal, but even he understood the term’s importance.
Some time ago, I’d started joining Beckett and Holden when they visited Beckett’s friends out at their ranch between Dripping Springs and Johnson City. Ginger from Lupe had joined us for one of the visits and told me that these were the people who’d rescued her and her friend Ant from a human trafficking situation.
More than that, they’d been the ones to introduce her to Beckett, who secured the job at Lupe for her. She also informed me that he’d been the go-between for several of the teenagers who’d ended up at Lupe, including Leo.
Holden hadn’t been surprised by any of these revelations, but I sure had been. I’d spent many weekends volunteering at Lupe since Robert’s death, all the while thinking that my much-loved almost-son-in-law was simply a preacher with a different worldview. I hadn’t realized how dedicated he was to practicing what he preached.
When Beckett had warned me not to ask too many questions about their foster child’s background, it hadn’t taken a genius to realize that the kid had likely survived something similar. When we’d come home with Ru a few weeks ago, I hadn’t known what to expect.
Moreover, while I was thrilled to get the chance to be a grandparent, I still had that conflicted reaction to any occasion that was supposed to be happy. So, as with Christmas and the grand opening of the Meeting House, I’d armored myself.
I’d expected welcoming my new grandson into the family to be complicated, to say the least. Yet Hikaru was a pure joy, and I had never been more grateful to live in the same little cul-de-sac as my son and his partner. From the moment Ru and I had laid eyes on each other, I knew that we were cosmically connected. That I was meant to be his grandfather. And despite losing his birth parents to unspeakable violence, Hikaru responded to our love like a flower to the sun. In the short time he’d been with us, he’d started to bloom.
His therapist warned us that Ru, no matter how resilient, would still have to work through his traumas, and things might not be so simple when he hit puberty and didn’t understand what his body and mind were trying to process. We took her at her word, but there was no suppressing how much fun the four of us were having together now. Wherever Robert had landed in the cycle oflife–death–rebirth, I liked to imagine that he’d sent Ru our way, knowing we would all need each other.
As much as Ru enjoyed living with Beckett and Holden, he and I had a special bond. It was far too soon for him to refer to them as his parents, and I’d had even fewer expectations. Hearing him call me “Jiji” was a delight, and my heart only ached slightly for the fact that Robert wasn’t here to enjoy it with me.
We were taking Ru to the Meeting House this weekend to introduce him to Robert’s Lost Boys and the community who would love and surround him for the rest of his life. With the anniversary of Robert’s death coming up, our little boy was helping us to see that life could still be beautiful.
“Grab your cock.”
“Jack off for me.”
My eyes flew open as the rest of the familiar dream played out in my memory.
Major behind me, bending me over his desk, ordering me around.
Still half asleep, I palmed my dick, moaning like a wanton lover even though I was alone in my bed with only my memories to keep me warm. Oh, but what memories they were.
In the weeks since he’d taken me over his desk (and finished me in his office chair), I’d envisioned Major’s body against mine more often than I cared to admit. Age difference be damned,there had been times I’d considered calling him to service me again.
But… yeah, no. My hand would have to do.
Well, my hand and the new toy that had arrived yesterday.
I pulled the lube and the high-end butt plug out of my side table. With my face smashed against the mattress and my ass in the air, I slicked my fingers, pressing one, then two inside myself while attempting to lube up the plug with my other hand. There was no grace involved in either proceeding, and twice, the plug shot across the bed.
I grew clumsier and more desperate with each passing second, so I only did the bare minimum to prep my ass, then set about getting a better hold on the slippery plug. Once I’d managed that, I pressed the tapered end to my entrance, leaning into the initial stretch. As much as I wanted to rush things, my body wouldn’t let me, so I stroked my cock, reminiscing about the smell of Major’s skin as I slowly inserted the toy.
The tight ring of muscle finally relaxed enough for me to begin pushing in the plug past the thickest part. I cursed about the mechanics of getting the thing into my body, and I reminded myself that I’d been the one who’d searched out a plug that matched Major’s girth.
Once it was seated inside me, I had to take several deep breaths. Even as my body grew used to it, I had to move gingerly as I stacked the pillows against the headboard, and I gasped when I propped myself up in a nearly seated position.
Despite the executive-level awkwardness of getting to this point, the angle was perfect. Spinning up the memory of Majordropping us into his office chair, I pressed my ass down on the bed, whining as the move lodged the plug even deeper inside me.
I remembered so clearly his strong arms around me, and I visualized his meaty hand gripping my cock. My thin fingers couldn’t do it justice, but I let my imagination fly, hunching and pushing down against the mattress until the plug found that sensitive spot inside me.
I was glad no one was around to see what renewed eroticism looked like on an aging man.
Squirming and jacking myself, I imagined Major’s strong thrusts, and I started to come undone, ecstasy ripping through my veins, my nuts drawing up so tight I whimpered. Even so, the strength of the orgasm was a shock to my system, and my arms lost their strength as I ejaculated, cum shooting everywhere.
I barked out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, even as the orgasm continued to roll through me. By the end of it, the whole bed was a mess, and I was left with a teenager’s sense that I had to clean up quickly or I might get caught. It had been years—decades, even—since I’d woken up from an erotic dream. I couldn’t tell if that made me feel young or pathetic.
I shook my head as I wiped my hands on the ruined sheets. Feeling like I’d forgotten something, I reached over to check my phone. It was nearly seven in the morning, late by my standards.
As I thumbed the screen to check for messages, I noticed the date, and horrifying guilt sank to the pit of my stomach. Ihadforgotten something. Something so important I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive myself.
