He just smiled.
Mason wrapped his arms around him.
As Mason’s lips met his, Chase felt that same sweet sensation rush through him, the one he always felt when Mason kissed him.
In the beginning, when they’d first started kissing, he thought there might have been something wicked about what they were doing, but he’d changed his mind. Not because of his own actions, but Mason’s. Mason was the best person he’d ever known, and he couldn’t believe any god would ever punish him for the things he did, that any god could see anything other than the kindness and goodness of the boy who had his arms wrapped around him, pulling him as close as he needed to be to him.
He’d never felt so happy before in all his life. He didn’t think he could be so happy, but the Finleys’ dairy was the only thing that made sense anymore. Since he’d come to live with them after Ma had stepped in for legal guardianship, he finally felt like he had a family.
Mason pushed him back against the wall and moved his hand beneath Chase’s shirt, across his belly.
Chase grabbed the back of Mason’s neck and pulled him closer. But even when their bodies were pressed against each other, it wasn’t enough. His dick had grown hard in his jeans, and he rubbed against Mason.
He didn’t feel embarrassed about it as he once had.
Mason never made him feel embarrassed about things like that.
He never made him feel like he was bad or wrong, the way he knew so many people in the world would if they knew what they did in secret.
Mason opened his mouth wider, and Chase matched it with his own. His face warmed, and he felt Mason’s dick get hard in his pants too, just like his.
He grabbed the erection and smiled.
“You like this,” Chase said.
“You like it too,” Mason said as he felt Chase’s.
Mason kissed him again, and Chase wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in for the biggest of hugs.
He enjoyed the time he and Mason spent together, and months passed where they were as happy as they ever could have been, working together so well on the dairy, caring about each other.
One day, Mike, one of the farmhands, came to pick Mason and Chase up from school—something he never did. It was always Ma or Pa, so they knew there was something wrong.
They exchanged looks all the way home. Despite Mason’s attempts at pulling the news from Mike, he just kept saying, “Your parents have something they had to take care of at the house.”
Chase suspected there was more to the story. When they arrived at the house, they entered the living room and saw Ma and Pa sitting together on the couch.
Pa held her hand, and Ma turned, her face red, and it was clear by how her eyes were swollen and the water within them that she’d been crying.
“Come on in and sit down now,” she told them.
“What is it?” Mason asked.
Someone must’ve died. That was how everyone acted whenever Chase went to his family funerals.
Sadness. Deep, profound sadness.
“Sit down,” Pa said.
Chase and Mason sat beside each other on the couch.
“You can’t tell anyone this,” Ma said, “but I went to the doctor today. They did some scans last week. My doctor didn’t think it was anything serious, but they found something. They’re going to have to operate.”
“Are you okay?” Mason asked.
Chase could hear the sadness in his voice, see it all over his expression, and all he wanted to do was take away his hurt and comfort him in whatever way he could.
After they finished their discussion, they went about their chores and had dinner together. Chase was getting ready for bed in the guest room—which they had turned into his room a year earlier when he’d come to stay with them—when Ma walked through his doorway.
