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Jabez gets heavy, Danny gets laid.

He did these things without thinking about them, automatically. He smiled as Mike came out, wearing a towel around his waist, carrying one for Kyle.

"Trust me, you don't want your butt on that Naugahyde," he said, handing the towel to Kyle.

Kyle smiled and wrapped it around him. He put the toast on the table and brought butter and jam.

Mike looked at the spread, "damn, Kyle. You're gonna make someone a good wife."

Kyle flushed red, but also felt a certain sense of pride. He sat down and waited until Mike was done pouring his cereal and milk to get his own. As he was waiting, he looked at the four sparse photographs on Mike's dining area wall. Mike watched him and explained:

"Okay, top left. That's my family. My dad, mom, and my sister. This was taken in sixty-eight, before I left. I was twenty-five then. I think my sister has a few more kids now than then. I lost track after three, I just send them money. One on the right is my squad. I ended up being the old man of the group, and so they called me poppa."

Kyle nodded. Poppa was not a name used in his family of origin.

"Down here," he gestured with a spoon, "is pride of last year."

"Pride?" Kyle inquired.

"Gay Pride. It's a big deal around here. You start hanging with us long enough and you'll get snagged into it. Kind of like a big party." Mike said. Kyle swallowed and began to understand his entry into the gay subculture.

"And that's my little brother, I just got him two months ago. In fact, I'll have to kick you out about noon or so, as I go to see him on Sundays."

"Your parents had a kid late?" Kyle asked, confused.

"No no, hell I don't think my parents even have sex anymore," he laughed. "I do volunteer work for the Big Brothers of America. Jimmy there is eight. It's like having a grandkid, you go out, buy 'em crap, pump 'em full of sugar and send 'em home. Jimmy's grades aren't none too good, so I go over some schoolwork with him, and have him read and stuff."

Kyle nodded. His grades were poor although he was literate and well read, he just hated school.

"So how about you?"

"Not much to tell. Graduated in eighty-five, moved out. That kinda thing."

"So you ought to be getting close to twenty-one. The bar scene will be calling you." Mike noted.

"I don't know. I guess so, but I'm not sure. I watch from my apartment, the front part of the North Bank, the men come, the men go. A lot of them look plastic, unreal. I'm not sure any of them would want me. I'm fat, I'm not attractive. I don't know what I'm doing." He looked down, away from Mike.

"Hey, Kyle. We all had to start somewhere. No law says you have to go to the bars anyway. You can always hang out in the theater along with the rest of the pervs," he grinned.

Kyle nodded, "it's darker in there."

"To each their own," Mike said. "Personally I hate bars, but then again, I don't smoke. North Bank is always oozing with smoke."

Kyle made a face and nodded adding, "Both my parents smoke."

Mike smiled, watching Kyle's face. He was holding himself back from trying to get emotionally involved but Kyle made it hard. He was so innocent, so needful.

"You can always hang out with me and the guys," he offered.

"Really?" Kyle's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas Morning.

"Oh yeah, we'd love some fresh blood."

"Wow. Thanks!" Kyle replied enthusiastically.

Mike loved seeing that smile on Kyle's face, it was like the look on Jimmy's face when he took him to the movies.

Kyle picked up his dishes and moved to the sink with them running water. Mike's eyes did not leave his round, plump butt, and his mouth watered. He slid out his chair making a screeching noise but did not rise.

When Kyle turned back toward the table, Mike was beckoning him with one finger and patted his thigh. Kyle sat on him. Mike wrapped an arm around him and pulled him down in the awkward position, kissing him roughly on the lips.

The scent of soap and arousal were powerful for Kyle, who had spent many hours stroking off

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