Subject: A Kid Named Ryan, Chapter 11 [Thanks for reading my story and for your comments. Help Nifty keep stories like this available by making a donation fty/donate.html] A Kid Named Ryan Chapter 11 – The Aftermath he was so in a daze. The two hours after the service that he spent receiving the sympathies and condolences of many who attended was totally overwhelming. He handled it as best he could. Once we got back to my place, he totally lost it and, for the most part, he spent the late afternoon hours in my arms crying as I did my best to console him. The reality, trauma and finality of losing his parents hit him hard. My parents went to pick up his grandmother so she could attend the funeral. In fact, my mom and dad ended up going to visit Lucille about every two or three months until she died in the first semester of Ryan’s senior year in high school. Mom and Dad treated her as if she was one of their parents; they truly were very kind to her during those years. Ryan and I did our best to go up and see her a few times each year. When Lucille died in the first semester of Ryan’s senior year, he had a much better idea of how to handle it. Ryan’s birthday was August 16. So, in order to get his mind on something else – other than all the many meetings and appointments we both were having to go through regarding where Ryan would live after the initial court order was up – I made up my mind to do something special for him. Thanks to the Farmer’s, we were able to get a weekend at a beach rental cottage in South Carolina. Ryan had a great time at the beach, especially with the boogie board he had me buy him. The sun and the waves took a lot of energy out of him each day. We may have shared a bed while there, but he was so worn out at night nothing happened between us at all. The sexual tension, though, never left us; it was always something to deal with. I knew I had to be the one who would set the parameters, but it didn’t always work as I would have liked. As we continued in the first months together, I would allow Ryan to lean against me on the sofa when while we would watch TV or a movie. But the proximity of him to me was too much for me to control. Often, my rod would harden and, of course, he would notice. One night, he began to simply rub my stomach. As my cock stiffened, he started to lightly rub it through the jeans I was wearing. Eventually, he had my belt loosened and the jeans unzipped and took my already throbbing penis in his mouth. He finished me off with a handjob, cum all over his hand and my stomach and pubes. The smile on his face, knowing he had taken me well beyond the boundaries I had set up for us, was as pleasing as it was frightening. He also learned, very quickly, that if he started wrestling with me, it was an immediate turn on. How he figured out my wrestling fetish was beyond me. Growing up in Carolina, pro wrestling from different territories around the country in that era was always on TV every Saturday. Dad and I would watch; as I got into my teens, the more I watched, the more it was a definite turn on for me. So, Ryan, however he figured it out, would surprise me from behind and start a “match.” It always ended up with my cock getting stiff. His did, too, so that tension became a real challenge. And the more he grew physically, the more of a challenge it was. I never let it get past that, but he did his best on more than one occasion. As he settled more and more into my condo, the guest bedroom became his own. He took over the closet for his clothes as well as the chest of drawers that was in there. I bought another desk to replace the smaller one that had been there. It gave him more room for his computer and, as school started, for his books and a place to study and do homework. Once we returned from the trip to South Carolina, I convinced him he had to start sleeping in that room regularly. While he fought it initially, Ryan figured out, on his own, he needed his privacy. I have to say that despite everything he had been through and the continuing saga of the “unknowing future,” he was trying, for the most part, to deal with what happened. I thought he remained a fairly balanced, happy teenager. Trying to get him accustomed to a “new normal” was daunting some days, especially once the new school year began. Most of it had to do with trying to ply the minefield of high school and teenage angst, but he had the added pressure of continuing to deal with his parents’ deaths and, now, having me as his guardian. Ryan was a sophomore and I may not have had him in class, but the faculty and staff knew he was my responsibility. If they suspected something was wrong with Ryan, if he missed doing an assignment or whatever, I was the one they came to in order to address it with him. I was not prepared for that aspect of this “new normal” at all and neither was he. We weathered the storm as, over-and-over, I convinced him to simply be honest with me. His best friends were Luke, Christian and Tyler. They were his classmates and all were on the soccer escort izmit team, so I knew them, too. Every Sunday afternoon that first September, they hung out at the condo and were at the pool for a couple of hours. The condo’s pool was within eyesight from the balcony of my unit, so I could see what they were up to. The afternoon ended with me cooking burgers or steaks on the grill. The late afternoon football game was on television, so they always watched that, too. If any of them were gay – or if they knew Ryan was – I had no idea. It was just great to see Ryan doing normal teenage things with his friends. When the autumn weather arrived, it was no more pool and a lot more video games in the living room. It was interesting to get to know Luke, Christian and Tyler away from school and soccer. I was pretty sure it was as interesting for each of them to see me in another environment than school, too. They were wonderful young men. Christian was the “conscience” of the group; he was the oldest of his siblings, so, he never would do anything wrong. Tyler was the stud athlete. He may have concentrated on soccer but he could’ve played any sport – as best as I could tell – and succeed at it. Always confident, he was physically gifted and, god, when he was shirtless…well, it’s just unfair that kids have that gene pool. Luke was what might be called “comic relief.” He was the happy-go-lucky one of the group; everything was always great in his world. Thanksgiving and Christmas went as well as could be expected. With all that had happened, I did my best for Ryan. Whatever he wanted over the holidays, either we did or he got. We went to my parents for Thanksgiving. It was their first time having any quality time with Ryan. He wanted to be home for Christmas, so we decorated my place. We went to his home and found the storage area where his family’s decorations were stored. We took some ornaments from what would have been his family’s tree as well as some other items and put them around the condo. My parents came over Christmas afternoon. The gifts they bought him made you think he was their grandson. Ryan definitely basked in all of that attention. I found out in November that Ryan and his parents each year would take the week after Christmas and go to a ski resort in West Virginia. I certainly didn’t have the money for where they usually went. My dad, though, spotted me the money to be able to take him. Now I’m not a winter sports person, but Ryan was, particularly snow boarding. I loved watching him out there having fun and being a normal teenager. The cottage his parents reserved had a fireplace in the living area. At nights we’d get a fire going. One night as we sat on the floor in front of the fire, Ryan was just wearing a pair of jeans – no shirt, no shoes. He looked like an adonis to me and it was everything I could do to not go after him. I think he knew he was teasing me. The next to last night we were there, a winter storm hit the area. The resort lost power. It was the first night we slept in the same bed in almost four months. Challenging? Yes. He so desperately wanted something to happen. I made sure nothing did that went too far. Meanwhile, all of the various lawsuits from the accident were swirling around us. In mid-January a family court judge issued the final decision granting me guardianship of Ryan until his eighteenth birthday. (That meant that his senior year, technically, he could be on his own. He never had a thought to do that as he remained with me through the summer after he graduated.) In March the insurance settlements began to come in. He received a very hefty one from the trucking company and they took responsibility in paying the funeral expenses, too. The lawyers who had his case really made sure he was set for life. As well, after some real difficult discussions, Ryan decided to sell his parents’ home. He wanted the two of us to move in there mainly because it had more room. But, after he realized I would not be able to stay there after he was no longer my responsibility, it made the decision to sell easier. Between the estate sale of its belongings and the sale of the house, the trust fund that had been set up for Ryan was substantial. From that I received a semi-annual check to provide for his care. Soccer in his sophomore year proved to be where the “acting out” of his grief and anger occurred. Ryan certainly was not into the sport as he had been his freshman year. Early in the second semester before the season came along, Tim sat Ryan down for a heart-to-heart talk about his attitude. At pre-season practices you could tell Ryan’s game was becoming what could be best described as “having a chip on his shoulder.” In the first regular season game, he was given a yellow card for a slide tackle that he would never have even tried the year before. The arrogance – or cockiness – he showed immediately after it made Tim even angrier. When Ryan received a red card in the fifth game – which meant, by state rules, he would be suspended for the next izmit escort game – Tim benched him for two additional games. At that point, I jumped more into the fray attempting to discuss things with Ryan at home. In one of those talks, he became so mad that he actually took a swing at me! He may have missed, but he was so shocked by what had occurred that it finally got his attention. His remorse certainly wasn’t crocodile tears. That finally woke him up. As that second year of high school ended, we planned a week-long road trip for vacation as soon as I was finished with post-planning. He wanted to go to Florida so I found a place to stay on Daytona Beach. He also asked about bringing Tyler, and I agreed. Everything was fine when we first got there. On Tuesday night, the two of them wanted to spend time on their own at the boardwalk. We agreed that they would be back by 11:00 p.m. At 11:15 I texted Ryan; at 11:30 I called him and got no answer. Just before midnight, there was a knock on the door of the rental unit we were in. A security guard had Ryan and Tyler in tow. Somehow they had been able to get served at a local bar, were drunk and had gotten somewhat out of hand. “Sir,” the guard said to me, “they’ve been pleading with me to not take them to jail. So, I think they may know right from wrong. We’ll let this one go for now, but only if you assure me that they’re not on their own anymore.” Of course I agreed. As soon as the door was closed, Ryan started, “I’m so sorry, Mark. We were just having fun.” Very stoically I said, “Not now, Ryan. You two, get ready for bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” Ryan kept trying to put up a defense, but I kept interrupting him and saying, “Tomorrow,” or “Please get ready for bed.” Tyler – somewhat surprisingly to me for his personality – never got involved in the conversation. He went to the bathroom, changed and was ready for bed and to try and put the night behind him. Finally, Ryan realized I wasn’t going to budge. He took off his shirt and shoes and went to the sofa-bed he was sleeping on. The next morning, I ordered breakfast for us through room service to be delivered at 9:00 a.m. Ryan and Tyler weren’t ready to get up at that hour, but I forced the situation once the food had been delivered. The three of us had a talk – of which I did most of the talking, laying down the law about what was acceptable behavior, and what wasn’t, the rest of the trip. I also let Ryan know that if he was going to drink alcohol, it was going to be at my place and monitored by me. At first, Tyler just wanted assurance that I wouldn’t tell his folks. “As long as you’re always honest with me, they’ll never know,” I told him. “Do you let Ryan drink?” Tyler asked. “Yeh. I’ve let him have a few every now and them, with me, at home,” I answered. Tyler looked at Ryan and said, “Dude. You are so lucky. My folks won’t let me have anything. They’re so strict.” Ryan looked at me. His eyes gave away his concurrence that he knew he was fortunate to have me. Later, after Tyler was in the shower, Ryan looked at me and said, “You’re the best!” “Thanks,” I said. “I just try a little harder to be so for you.” The rest of the week went great. Ryan and Tyler spent most of the days on the beach – playing a lot of beach volleyball. In the evenings, the three of us remained together, finding something to do that didn’t bore them to tears. Soccer camp that summer brought back all the memories of the previous one. By Tuesday Ryan asked if we could leave. I spoke with Tim and the three of us met that same day after dinner. Tim understood Ryan’s emotions as the year anniversary was approaching, but as a coach, he did not want Ryan to go. After we left from talking to him, Ryan said to me, “I’ll stay through tomorrow afternoon, but not any longer.” So, that’s what I told Tim and we headed home Wednesday in the late afternoon after our last game of the day. And, Ryan continued to grow up, too. By the beginning of his junior year he was just under 6- feet tall and was a pretty muscular 150 pounds or so. His chest and abs were getting much more definition. When soccer season had ended, I agreed to get us a gym membership which he just ate up. Ryan was kicking my ass in every way. When I would run with him, he had me totally beat and wiped out before we hit two miles. Now, of course, he was in great shape from soccer and I had let myself go for too long. But, man, did it give him fuel to bust my chops. As time went on he, of course, began driving and when he turned 17 he wanted a car. My dad was my expert in this area so he helped in finding something that was not only good, but affordable. Ryan was a decent driver – not great – and he got his first ticket for running a stop sign some 6 weeks after he got the car. As soon as he walked in the door at home, I knew something was wrong by the look on his face. He came clean immediately and we dealt with it. I think he was shocked that I didn’t over-react or ground him. That summer before his izmit kendi evi olan escort third year of high school, his friendship with Luke changed. They spent more and more time together, but once the school year began, they were inseparable. On a mid-September Friday, Ryan asked about staying at Luke’s house overnight. Phone calls were exchanged between Luke’s mom and me, and all was fine. After school, Ryan went to the condo, grabbed some clothes and other stuff and off to Luke’s he went. The two of them wanted to extend it through Saturday night. That night, Ryan told Luke he was gay and Luke told him he needed to leave. When Ryan came home, I was, to say the least, very surprised to see him, but I could tell something was wrong. With tears streaming down his face, he said, “I told Luke I’m gay. I don’t think he can handle it.” “Come here,” and I took him in my arms. “It’ll be okay.” We stayed up well into the early hours of the morning talking some, but mostly just sitting on the sofa as Ryan tried to process what had happened. I inquired if he was into Luke. After he immediately responded, “No,” I asked, “Then why did you tell him?” He never really answered me, so I was never sure if he was being fully honest with me. At school on Monday, Luke told Ryan that he asked him to leave for fear his dad would find out. Luke knew his dad had no time for people like Ryan, so having him leave was a way of protecting his friend. Once Ryan found that out, things settled down. If there was a person that Ryan had a “crush” on it was Tyler. In his junior year, it just seemed to me that Ryan was obsessing about Tyler. Over dinner one night I asked about it and, as he was nervously trying to deflect my questions and comments, Ryan blurted out, “But he’s so damn hot!” He knew right away that he had let the cat-out-of-the-bag, so it opened up a longer conversation between us on how he was handling his sexuality. It wasn’t the best of talks – nor the easiest between us – but, at least, we talked. The remainder of his high school years were a mixed bag, so-to-say. (But isn’t it that way for every high school student?) He was never an “in-your-face-I’m-gay-get-over-it” guy. Much like I did when I was in high school, Ryan just did not want to bring attention to that part of his life. At the beginning of his senior year, he may have been at his lowest point. He was getting pressure as to why he wasn’t dating anyone, why he didn’t go to prom or other school dances. I could tell it was making him more-and-more depressed. Totally afraid that he would do something drastic, I forced more “level the playing field” talks with him. If nothing else, he knew that I deeply cared for him. That time may have been – since the initial days after his parents’ death – the most emotional for the two of us. He found me in tears one night on the sofa. I explained that I was just really concerned for him. He knew that, but he had never seen me that emotional about him till that night. As his senior year went on, Ryan made applications to colleges and universities. He was accepted to several, including my alma mater, but he chose to go to a larger state university. I presumed he chose it so he could “fade into the crowd” versus the possibility of having a spotlight on him. The onset of “senior-itis” didn’t escape him or his friends. Christian’s dad actually called me in March to express his gratitude that, somehow, I was keeping his son’s focus on that final semester. To be honest, I’m not sure I was doing anything special; just being there for them and being honest was what I did for Ryan as well as for his friends. Christian’s family decided to host the after-graduation party. It was a melancholy event for me – one I never expected to have to deal with, but now thrust into the emotions of what was ahead of us. Christian’s dad, Jason, made it a memorable night for them. The adults shared their feelings about their boys now being “grown up”; even the siblings of the other three realized that these four had something special between them. As that summer following graduation continued, the separation anxiety for me was truly horrible. Ryan felt it to, but he also knew he was heading out on his own and had a substantial sum of money behind him. We had worked with a financial advisor to get a plan for Ryan that would ensure he wouldn’t (and couldn’t) go through the money too fast. When it came time for him to head to college for the fall semester, I asked if he wanted me to go with him and help him get settled. “No,” he said. “But thanks. It’s probably best that I do this on my own and get used to it.” The final night he was with me in the condo before leaving, I got the best steaks available for dinner along with a fantastic bottle of wine. Afterwards, we had a long talk about all that had gone on. He expressed his thanks to me for being there for him and said he wouldn’t have made it without me. I assured him I would always be there for him, wherever, whenever he might need me. After cleaning up the kitchen from dinner, I headed to the living room where he was. He jumped me for one final wrestling match between us. Of all the ones we had through the years Ryan lived with me, it may have been the most fun – and, for me, the one that broke my heart.