Love On The Links Chapter 13

This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys. All the usual rules apply. If you shouldn't be reading this now then don't continue on. Copyright Notice - Please, this story is Copyright © by NCDuffer and the author retains all rights. You may distribute, copy, print, staple or spindle this story however you like, provided this copyright notice remains intact and you do not change the story in any way. Also you may not charge any fee to anyone to distribute or access this story. Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcomed! Send them to ncduffer@hotmail.com.

I got out of bed, put on some mesh shorts and a teeshirt, and walked downstairs. The smells of frying breakfast foods suddenly aroused a hunger inside me. It's just something about how the smell of fried pork can make a 15 year old southern boy immediately so hungry that he just might gnaw his arm off if he doesn't eat soon enough. I kissed my mother on the cheek as she stood in front of the stove.

"Good morning, darling," she said.

"Morning momma," I replied as I popped a hot piece of bacon into my mouth. "Where's dad and James?" I sputtered as I tried to choke down the scalding piece of bacon.

"They went to the sporting goods store," she answered. "We're going out to the lake when they get back, and your father wanted to get a few things to winterize the boat."

I thought about calling Jack and inviting him to go with us to our lake house, but I was not ready to deal with him just yet. Last night had really strained us, or maybe it was just me, but I felt as though I needed my space for the moment. I ate my breakfast, had seconds of fried livermush, helped mom with the dishes, and went upstairs to get some stuff to take with me to the lake.

I silently wondered to myself why we were going out to the lake at this time of year. My dad rarely did any self-maintenance to the boat; he usually left that kind of thing to the people at the marina. I saw something behind this trip, perhaps it was to clear my little brother's head about the events of the past week. Regardless, I could really use the peace and serenity of the woods and water to get my own ducks in a row. I still had to get a grip on how I wanted my life to unfold, and whether or not it was in my best interests to continue to let Jack push me towards coming out.

Soon there were the busy sounds of activity coming from downstairs as my dad and brother had returned. I grabbed my bag and cd player and headed downstairs.

"Will, could you give me a hand with some stuff?" my dad asked.

"Sure," I replied. I helped him carry a big cooler, a suitcase, and some firewood from the basement and loaded it all into the back of the Expedition. I threw my gear in the back seat and went inside to call Jack. As I was dialing his numbers, I suddenly stopped one digit away. Something inside just told me I didn't need to talk to him until I'd figured a few things out for myself. I didn't want to risk getting into a battle over ideas when I didn't even know where I stood. So, I hung up the phone. By this time, the family was ready for the 2 hour car ride to the lake. We all piled in and once again, the Parker family was on the move.

I think it's ironic, my dad takes us on these little weekend jaunts so he can get away from work, yet he spends the whole time on his cell phone with his secretaries and partners. Even with my headphones on, I could still hear the speakerphone in the car drowning out everything else. I swear, sometimes I think technology creates more problems than it solves. I pulled out a new book I'd just bought, The Great Santini, by Pat Conroy, and began reading to pass the time. I'd finished about 100 pages when we rolled up to the lake house.

It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but I really liked the fact that we were for the most part isolated. My brother and I helped dad unpack the car, and mom was busy opening windows and airing out the place. It was just after midday, so my dad decided we should all go out for a boat ride while mom was cleaning up the house. We had a 28 foot SeaRay cabin cruiser that was about 3 years old, but it was still a really nice boat. It had two inboard/outboard motors that would haul some ass. God, I loved coming out here when I was little and spending all day just water-skiing and knee-boarding.

Dad lowered the boat from the lift, prepped the engines, and started the boat. It hummed with a nice rhythm that sent a smile to my face. It's funny how just the sound of a boat motor, or the scent of the boat fuel, can just trigger memories from your childhood. Dad backed us clear from the dock and slowly started out into the cove. He cracked a beer from a small cooler he'd brought on board and took a healthy swig. He noticed me looking at him, and smiled.

"Wanna beer, boy?" he asked in his thick southern accent.

"Sure, dad," I answered, "if that's ok."

"Hell, just don't tell your mother," he said with a laugh.

I grabbed a beer and took a long sip. My dad looked at me and just smiled. "Not your first beer, I take it?" he asked. I blushed and shook my head no. "That's ok, boy," he said, "I was already drinking and raising hell at your age, so I'm not that surprised. I just wished your first beer was shared with your old man." I just smiled and gazed out across the expanse of water we were chopping through, letting my mind numb over with the tranquil serenity.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" my dad asked James over the rumbling of the motors.

"Nothing, sir," James replied curtly. I detected a hint of bitter sarcasm in his response that also did not go unnoticed by my father.

"Boy," my dad started, "you better get your mind off that girl. It's over and done with, hear me? You'd be better off just to let it go."

"Yes, sir," my brother answered, completely sullen, his spirit broken, his eyes downcast.

"Dad," I started, my voice coming from nowhere, and completely without the benefit of my rational brain behind it, "what's the big deal?"

"Stay out of this Will," my dad turned to me, his jaw clenching, and his temper rising. "Unless you want to get into territory I'm sure you'd rather not tread." This quickly shut me up, and the color immediately drained from my face. James looked at me, with sad gratitude in his eyes, and I immediately felt ashamed that I could not protect him. The rest of the boat ride was in complete silence, all three Parker men immersed in the universe contained entirely in their heads. When we arrived back at the dock, mom was firing up the grill. The twilight sky over the lake streaked with the blazing colors of the setting sun; the night was falling fast.

"Hey, you've reached Will and James' line. We're not here right now, so leave us your digits and a message and we'll get back to you as soon as possible…" Jack hung up the phone before the beep; where was he, Jack wondered. He'd been calling off and on since around lunchtime, and nobody was answering at Will's house. He was really wanting to talk to him after last night. They had parted on less than loving terms, and it was eating Jack up inside. Deciding that reaching Will was out of the question for the day, Jack headed out to the course to play a round and clear his head. His dad saw him in the member club storage room at the clubhouse and invited him to play. His dad recognized the furrowed brow, the distant look in Jack's eyes, and knew something was on his son's mind. Jack accepted the invitation, and the two started out for the first tee.

Jack's swing was a reflection on his nature; you could learn a lot about Jack's personality just from watching the way he played. He had a smooth, unforced fluidity to his swing; neither hurried nor idle. He was relaxed, and swinging a club was almost as second nature to him as walking. Jim Stewart was proud of his son, not just for his golf abilities, but for the young man of character and integrity that he'd become. He knew that Jack had been forced to face some pretty difficult facts in his short nearly 16 years. Much more difficult things to accept than he'd had when he was Jack's age, Jim thought. What a statement of accomplishment, Jim thought; my son already has the self-awareness to be able to recognize who he is. That, more than anything, made Jim extremely proud of his son. While they were walking up to their approach shots on the third green, Jack decided to open up the lines of communication.

"Dad, I want to come out," Jack said. His son had never been graced with the art of subtlety, Jim thought. He was puzzled about why this was an issue all of a sudden.

"Son," Jim started, taking a practice swing, "you have to realize the gravity of that decision." Swing. Connect. Sweet approach shot, laying 7-8 feet from the cup. "It's not something that you can take lightly. Once the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, there's no taking it back. Ever."

"I know, dad," Swing. Connect. 10 feet, slightly downhill and to the left of the cup. "I just feel like now that I've come out to you guys, every day that I pretend to be somebody I'm not to everyone else, I'm just betraying who I really am."

"You have to realize, though, there are more factors at work here than just you outing yourself," Jim said, lining up his putt. "You completely change the rules of the game. Nothing, as you currently know it, will ever be the same. For better or for worse." Putt. Rolling, rolling. Gurgle of ball falling into the cup.

"See, I know things will be different," Jack said reading the brake. "But in the long run, won't things ultimately be better?" Putt. Slight misread of the brake, ball rolls slightly to the left of the cup. It's in the leather, though, so they pick up and move to the next hole.

"That's not necessarily true, for now, son," Jim said, cranking his tee shot nearly 300 yards and giving it a fade slightly to the right. "You realize that most people won't take it nearly as well as your mother, Haley and I."

"I know, dad, and frankly, that scares the hell out of me," Jack said, driving it about 55 yards less than his dad, landing slightly in the rough on the right. "But so does losing touch of who I really am."

"Jack," Jim said as they were walking to their next shot, "there is a proper time and place for everything. Look at what you've got now, compared with what you have to potentially gain or lose by coming out to everybody."

"I know dad, and frankly, I couldn't have asked for a more painless coming out than you guys gave me," Jack said, connecting with a 3 iron and sending the ball nearly to the edge of the green. Nice setup for a little chip shot. "And I know the other shoe will drop eventually, and I'll run into somebody who doesn't take it as well."

"Son, I think 'taking it as well,' is a major understatement," Jim said, gracefully lofting the ball onto the green. Chance for a birdie hole. "I overheard a few dads of your classmates talking about a few 'queers' at your school. My heart skipped a few beats until I found out they weren't talking about you and Will. I'll spare you the details of what they said, but rest assured, they haven't been exactly teaching their children values of acceptance."

"Yeah, two guys got outed at school this week," Jack said as he scooped a nice little chip shot, landing near the cup. "It completely ripped my guts out not to stick up for them, too. Dad, they went through absolute hell. Every missed chance to stand up for them was like a sock right in my gut. But I thought maybe if people knew a cool kid was one of them, then they might back off. This may sound stupid, but I felt like by not saying anything to support them, I was just as bad as the guys who were explicitly picking on them."

"That doesn't sound stupid at all, son," Jim said, sinking his birdie shot and earning himself a high five from his son. "You just have to realize, though, that your status as a 'cool kid' might evaporate as quickly as morning dew once you divulge something like this. I don't want to bring up bad memories, but you can't ignore or forget the bitter lessons you learned in Florida."

"I haven't forgotten them," Jack said, sinking his par shot. "It's just that Florida seems like such a long time ago. I was kind of operating under the assumption that people have grown up since then."

"Jack," Jim said practicing his drive, "one of the things I admire most about you is your unbridled optimism and faith in the goodness of people." Swing, connect, middle of the fairway. "Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks to that is that you often give people more credit than they deserve, and ultimately leave yourself wide open to get hurt."

"But dad," Jack said, sending the ball straight down the fairway, "you can't just live your whole life afraid of giving people the benefit of the doubt. Who knows? These people may be more accepting than the Floridiots."

"I just want you to be extremely careful with this, son," Jim said as Jack took his practice swing with his fairway wood. "You have to realize that every action carries with it a set of consequences. You just have to decide for yourself whether the benefits of the action outweigh the negative ramifications."

"There's no way to really quantify the benefits, dad," Jack said, shanking the ball off to the left and into a sand trap. "Shit, sand trap. I can use words like 'be myself,' and 'remaining true to my ideals,' but in the end, how can you honestly put a value on those? Even if it means my life, they're ultimately more important than any negative consequences."

"Jack, you don't know how proud, yet terrified, I am to hear you say things like that," Jim said, sending the ball to a short approach to the green. "I feel like I've done you right parenting-wise to know that standing up for what you believe is ultimately one of the most important virtues, but it scares the devil out of me to realize just what that might cost you. Just remember what I said about the proper time and place for everything."

That ended the conversation for the rest of the front nine, both Stewarts lost in their thoughts over the dialogue. The golf provided a nice distraction, and allowed each to ruminate over what the other said. Jim started on a new line of conversation on the green of the 18th hole.

"What about Will?" Jim said, sending a 15 footer achingly close to the rim of the cup. "What does he think about coming out?"

"Oh, I think he's terrified of it, actually," Jack said, sinking a three footer.

"Well, I think that may just answer your question for now," Jim said, tapping in his putt and finishing the pair up for the day. "You certainly must realize that anything you do will directly affect him, and also the dynamics of your relationship."

"I know dad," Jack said, tossing his bag over his shoulder and heading for the clubhouse. "But as much as it's unfair to ask him to come out before he's ready, isn't it just as unfair to ask me to stay in after I'm ready to come out?"

"I don't think so, son," Jack said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "Something like this, I think, might just be more detrimental to Will than for you. Sure, you may have to bite your tongue, but think about his situation. Will comes from an entirely different background. His family derives a great deal of their identity from where they come from, and how people view their family. I would be willing to bet you that Will could tell you the exact date his ancestors stepped off the boat in, probably Charleston Harbor, and could give you a pretty detailed account of his family's rise to prominence. I think it's fairly safe to assume that if you jeopardize his name by forcing him to come out before he's ready to actually defend himself against a social pressure you can't really appreciate, you can pretty much guarantee destroying everything you've both worked so hard to create together."

"You think he would break up with me for something like that?" Jack asked, not really wanting to hear the inevitable answer.

"Whether it's his wishes, or his parents, you can bet that Will's familial survival will far outweigh anything you could provide him right now. Sorry to burst your bubble on this one, Jack, but our two families couldn't be more different. We're not from their background; our family takes pride in our own accomplishments. Will's family takes pride in the accomplishments of people 9 generations back. Neither is more right than the other, it's just a different way of looking at things. You have to ask yourself, 'is coming out right now worth losing Will over?' You said you were willing to make sacrifices to preserve your ideals. Are you prepared to make this one?"

After dinner, mom and dad were sitting in the swing on the back porch overlooking the lake. James had been MIA since dinner, and I decided to do a little soul searching. I grabbed my fishing pole and tackle box, some bait from the bait cooler, some bug repellant, and headed for the dock. I cast my line out into the water and sat patiently, being lulled into a near hypnotic trance by the metronomic bobbing of the cork. It was a cool bobber, it glowed in the dark so I could fish without turning on all the dock lights. The moon was high up overhead, and its cool glow reflected brightly in the water. This is as close to heaven as it gets, I thought. Water has such a calming effect on me. It's almost like a reflection on life; sure there will be ripples, and sometimes even waves, but it always settles and goes back to calm. I slipped off my New Balances and stuck my toes in the water. It was a little chilly, the fall weather had cooled the temperature off quite a bit, but it still felt nice.

My trance was interrupted, however, by quiet sobs and a quick, hushed sniff. I turned around to see James sitting in the boat under the canopy. He tried to be silent and hide from me, but I called out to him quietly and invited him to come sit beside me. He softly padded down the walkway out to where I was, and plopped down beside me. He opened up the tackle box and started playing with a lure. We sat there in complete silence while he gathered himself and fiddled with the jig. Soon, he spoke.

"This thing reminds me of my life," he said.

"How so," I asked, very curious about the answer to this seemingly absurd statement.

"Well, ok, suppose I'm a fish, and this lure is Shante," he said. I was still clueless about his analogy, but gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm just swimming along, and all of a sudden, I see this shiny cool thing." He starts dangling the lure a foot away from his face. All the moving parts on the lure started shaking and spinning. "I think it's soooo cool, so I decide to swim up to get a better look at it." He holds it really close to his face now, wiggling it between his fingers. "Well, by now, this lure is looking really awesome, so I go for it. I go for Shante." Ahh, by now I see where he's heading with this. "Once I've committed myself to biting, I realize, too late, that there's this hidden hook that I never noticed. I can't stop, though, I've decided to bite the bait. What seemed so inviting and cool before is now ripping me to shreds. That's how this lure reminds me of my life." Good God, I thought, this is kind of scary.

"James," I started, trying to impart some type of comfort, "it's not like your whole world is ending."

"How would you know, Will?" Jack said. "Don't give me that shit about you and Hillary. You don't love her, yet. You wouldn't be dying inside if you couldn't see her anymore."

"Of course I would," I said, my pride wounded. "I guess you're right that I don't love her yet, but I don't think it would make me lose all hope if it did happen."

"Sigh, you just don't understand, Will," James said. "You don't know what it's like to throw yourself headlong into something without any reservation or hesitation at all, and then have yourself torn away from it. It's like a bee. When he stings you, he rips off his stinger in the process. He can't live without that stinger. Even though he may fly off, he's gonna die because he's not whole anymore. He's lost part of himself." Note to self: quit letting James watch so much Discovery Channel.

"James, you just have to move on, man," I said, trying to look into his eyes. He kept his gaze out on the water, though.

"Will, you look into Shante's eyes every day. You see the longing and sadness in those eyes, every single day, and THEN you tell me to move on." Wow, James really floored me with that. He could tell he had me, and he just unloaded. "You hear her calling your name, begging you to talk to her, and then you turn YOUR back on her. You show her that she never meant anything to you, because *I* can't do that." With that, he threw the lure out into the cove and walked back over to the boat.

"Christ, I need a cigarette," he said. Seems my little brother was full of surprises these days. He tapped the pack a few times in his palm, packing the tobacco, and unwrapped a new pack of Camel Lights. I looked back at the porch, and the swing was empty. I guess mom and dad had called it a night. James produced a lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, and sputtered out a cough.

"Not really a habit, yet, huh?" I asked with a little amusement in my voice.

"No, this is actually my first one," he said as he smiled a weak smile at me.

"Well, shit, give me one of those, I guess," I said. I quickly lit one up and produced the same type of cough.

"Your first one, too?" James asked.

"No, Jack and I shared one at a party one night," I said. Pain flashed through my eyes as I thought about Jack sitting at home, still hurt from our scene last night.

"It's so cool that you have a friend like that," James said.

"Huh?" I quickly asked, my tone defensive. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, dude," James answered, "geez, chill out, it's not like I called him your boyfriend or anything. I learned my lesson the last time I did that." I quickly dropped his gaze and rather forcefully cast my line back into the water.

"Will?" James asked. I ignored him. With each moment, my heart beat faster and harder in my chest. My head started feeling light, and he asked again. "Will?" Silence.

"Will," James said again, this time nudging my arm. "Is Jack your boyfriend?" The way he asked it, though, softly, with quiet curiosity, intrigued me.

"What would make you think that?" I asked, still not able to meet his eyes. My focus remained steady on the little green object floating out in the water.

"I don't know. It just dawned on me all of a sudden. Is he?"

I swallowed really hard, hung my head down, and softly whispered, "Yes."

"Oh," he said, taking another drag off his cigarette. "Do mom and dad know?"

"Ok, beau, look how they handled your situation once they found out about it. Do you honestly think they know?" I stated.

"Good point," he said. "Well, that doesn't make sense, then."

"What?" I asked.

"Well, what dad said today when you tried to jump in while he was yelling at me," James said. The words echoed in my head as my father's clenched jaw etched itself into my memory. Frankly, I didn't want to believe my dad knew anything, but the words he said to me today would seem to indicate otherwise.

"If they know," I said, "they sure haven't said anything to me about it."

"Me either," James replied.

"Well," I asked, meeting his gaze for the first time since admitting my 'dirty little secret.' "What are you thinking?"

"Honestly," he said, "I'm stunned. I mean, this changes everything, you know, but at the same time, it doesn't."

"What do you mean?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Well, I mean, I guess I just always assumed you liked girls, so I guess it changes that. But then again, I mean, God, you're my brother, Will. So like, it doesn't change that."

"Cool," I said, taking a last drag off my smoke and flicked it into the water. It hissed for a brief second, and floated away.

"Hehehehe," James started giggling, something I'm sure he hasn't done in a while.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Mom and dad. I thought they were gonna flip when they found out about ME…You're fucked, buddy!" James said. Even though I knew the seriousness of what he just said was undeniably true, I couldn't help but let a little laugh escape, too.

"You know what, Will?" James asked.

"What, beau?" I replied.

"A few months ago, I would have totally wigged. I mean I would have gone totally postal when I found out about you. After seeing what it feels like firsthand, though, to go through people looking down on you for dating somebody they don't approve of, all I can do is just feel bad for you. I love you, bro, but damn, dude, I really just feel bad for you." My eyes started to tear up, and a stray tear slipped and rolled down my cheek.

"Oh, shit," James laughed, "you're not gonna go all girly on me are you?" I punched James in the arm, and he cringed. "Nope, not girly yet. No girl I know punches that hard. Damn, dude!"

"hehehe, you earned that one, buddy," I said, wiping my eyes. "But seriously, man, I can't thank you enough for being here for me. I mean, you don't know what it means."

"I have a pretty good idea, beau," James said. "Remember when I first told you about Shante? I was shaking, man, I was so nervous. I thought you were gonna totally rail on me about it. But you didn't. I figured I at least owed you the favor. What are you going to do about the Hillary situation, though?"

"Wanna hear something funny?" I asked. "She knows. She called me out on it the first day!" We both laughed.

"No WAY!" he said.

"Yup. I don't know how she did it, man, but she figured it out right away. We've been scheming, though. She's covering for me for as long as I need her to. What a cool girl, huh?"

"Yeah," James answered with a strange twinkle in his eye, "sigh…she's really cool."

"You have a crush on her, don't you!?" I kidded.

"I mean, what guy wouldn't?!" he replied before he realized what he said. "Oops, hehehe, I guess I know one, no, two guys that wouldn't!"

"Well, if you ever get over Shante, I'll be happy to set you two up!" I was just picking around, but James got really quiet. "Oh, shit, dude, I'm sorry! I was just pickin!"

"No, it's ok, Will," James said. "Something strange just happened to me. I think by finally getting to rage about the whole situation, it sort of helped me to start to get over it. I finally think I'm going to be ok."

"So do you really want me to talk to Hil for you?" I asked, this time serious.

"I'm not there, yet, Will," he replied. "Give me some time, dude. But I definitely think I'll be able to move on, now. I guess we should have these brother talks more often, huh beau?"

"Fer sure, little man. Lord knows I could always use some help when the time comes to tell mom and dad."

"Will, I made a promise to myself that one day I'd be strong enough to stand up against mom and dad. I won't lie to you; I'm not at that point yet. Jesus, I'm only 14!"

"You're 13, James," I said.

"Close enough, dickhead, don't interrupt me," James giggled. "Anyway, I just hope that I'm ready by the time the shit hits the fan with mom and dad. I kinda want some revenge. The whole thing with Shante is over. There's no way to salvage it. But I'll be damned if I stand by and let them do the same thing with you."

"Thanks bud," I said, sincerely meaning it.

"Do you love him?" James asked.

"Yeah, I do," I replied.

"Is he worth being cut off?" James asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, mom and dad threatened to cut me off from the family and everything else if I ruined our name. I don't necessarily think they'd throw me out, they'd just ship me off to boarding school or something to get me away from the 'bad influences.' You know, basically write me off. Completely threw me for a loop, though. Just know what you're getting yourself into. I'll ask you again, is he worth it?" I was reeling from what James had just told me, and my hesitation spoke volumes.

"Might want to figure that little bit out before you proceed any further, beau." With that, James stood up and squeezed me on my shoulder.

"Going in?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm getting eaten alive by the skeeters out here," he replied. I didn't try to stop him, I still had a lot to think about. I turned my focus back to the little green bobber out on the lake.

"Is he worth it?" James' words kept ringing in my ears, as I pondered my answer. Then my attention shifted to the question of why Jack kept pushing me towards coming out when he obviously knew I wasn't ready. I could feel the heat rising in my face, as the anger I'd felt last night crept back to the surface. To be sure, I did regret the fact that I was holding him back. At this point in time, though, I still saw it as necessary self-preservation to remain in the closet. It saddened me as I realized I had just answered my own question. I shivered as the hammer of realization came down on me with one swift blow. At this point in my life, Jack wasn't worth it to me to out myself. As soon as that thought flashed across my mind, I was ashamed and disappointed in myself. Apparently Jack thought I was worth enough to come out to his parents. He risked everything because he loved me. For the first time, I realized that I wasn't ready to go to the same lengths for Jack as he was for me. My churning emotions were welling up on me, and just when my eyes were about to spill over with tears, the green bobber disappeared below the surface of the water.

I hopped up on my feet, tugged on the line, and started to reel in my catch. I kept tugging and reeling, slowly bringing the fish closer and closer. I had set the hook, but the little fella was fighting me something fierce. Struggling to be free. In an instant, I saw the resolution of the conflict with Jack encapsulated in this small incident with the fish. I knew what I had to do. I reached into the tackle box, grabbed a pair of scissors, cut the line, and let the fish go towards freedom.