Sander's Courage Read online

will see!"

  "Eek! A Man!" I laughed in a silly damsel-in-

  distress voice. "Why, suh... Your dubious and forceful

  nature has proven to be, uh, rather stimulating, I do

  declare!"

  "Roll over and shut up. The only thing I want open

  on you is your ass," Sander chuckled as he used his knee to

  plant my face down on our soft and feathery bed. I yanked

  the eiderdown off and tossed it to the floor.

  "There you go! One ass, just like you ordered." And

  then the teasing and the play slowly morphed into some

  serious passion.

  He laid on his side and petted me from my head to

  below my butt, ending each stroke with his fingertips

  lightly brushing the back of my ball sack. I could feel his

  erection against my hip, so I reached back and slowly

  stroked his cock while he rubbed the small of my back.

  "Johnnie, have you ever love someone as much as

  that I love you?" he asked, switching to English, a hint of

  whisper in his voice.

  "Never. Never ever. And I never will," I said.

  "There is no way that I can tell you how much I love you. I

  try every day, you know? I try to find the words. I look in

  my Danish dictionary. I know the words to say aren't in

  English," I explained. "So you will just have to take my

  word."

  "I do. And I am same, with words I mean. My

  English is still not so best, but even I try in Danish and

  German. German, forget it. But closest I find is Russian,"

  he said.

  "What is it?"

  " Ya tebya lyublyu, is what it call. But it don't mean I

  Love you, like Jeg elsker dig do in Danish," Sander

  explained. "It mean, You are part of me."

  "Wow. Who'd ever think the Ruskies could get

  something right? Because that's what you are," I said.

  "Pokey, you are a part of me. The best part. Because you

  make me want to be better than I am."

  "Same for you." And then he kissed all up and

  down my back. My shoulder blades. The back of my neck.

  And then he climbed gently atop me and glided his

  beautiful member into my quivering ass. Nothing felt as

  good as Sander entering me, his mellow movements

  gathering momentum as he reached the perfect rhythm for

  us both. What a beautiful and considerate lover.

  "Is this good, Johnnie?" he whispered.

  "So good. God, it's so good. You feel so wonderful.

  Thank you, Sander. God, I love you so fucking much..."

  "Squeeze against me," he exhaled. "I want you to

  hold me inside of you..."

  "Yes! Oh, God, Sander! Oh, it feels so fucking good.

  I love you! Please, hard as you like!" I managed to utter in

  the heat of it all. My ass wanted more of him; deeper,

  harder. "You know me so well! God, you know what to do.

  Love me, Sander! Oh, God, make it go forever..."

  "I love you, Johnnie! I'm so much in love with you...

  You are so fucking hot! God damn! Ohhh.... Fuck!" He was

  going at full tilt boogie, and I reached under and grabbed

  my cock, alternating between jacking it and rubbing the

  underside of it on the soft sheet.

  "Sander, I'm gonna cum! Oh, God it's so fucking

  good. Oh, please, harder! Harder!"

  "I'm getting close," he breathed against my neck.

  "Johnnie, I'm gonna cum! Ohhhhh!!! Ahhh! Of, fuck! I'm--

  I'm... Aggghhhh!" And I felt the familiar warmth of his

  mark of love filling my ass. It entered me with a pressure

  that tickled the right spot, and that did it.

  I blasted all over the sheets and my hand. What a

  feeling! I just savored it for a moment, feeling Sander's

  elevated heartbeat as he laid against my back. Then the

  rain picked up outside, striking horizontally against the

  north side of the house.

  "Well, I know it wasn't Viagra," I chuckled. I felt the

  movement caused by his laughter.

  "No. Nobody need that stuff if they with you,"

  Sander laughed. "You are what we in the business call A

  Good Fuck!"

  "What business?!"

  "Monkey business!" he snickered.

  "You know what?" I asked.

  "What?"

  "If somebody ever yells at you and calls you a

  fucker, all you gotta do is tell 'em that I said you're the best

  fucker ever!"

  "What if they tell me to get fucked?"

  "Say you're on your way home to me!"

  SANDER AND JOHNNIE HAD GONE to bed.

  Of course they both knew that there were people in

  the house, but the layout of the floor plan allowed for near

  perfect privacy; walls were not easy to hear through, and

  each doorway had an inset jamb at least two feet deep. So

  there was never much of a chance of anyone in the house

  walking in on someone doing something they shouldn't

  be, and it was even harder to hear anything.

  Therefore, it was by no accident that when Sander

  and Johnnie were making love that rainy night, that the

  person had merely stumbled upon them, and just

  happened to watch them the entire time.

  Their door was cracked open to let the heat in from

  the hall stove, and to listen for wolves in the yard. They

  were watched, though. And the watcher masturbated and

  ejaculated onto the floor. He used his foot to wipe it up as

  best he could, and then returned to his room.

  Chapter 14

  reakfast time at the Hansen-Allen house is always

  a bright affair. It's the start of a new day, and

  B whenever Jannik's here it's even brighter. He came

  to the table with a cat in each hand and plopped onto 'his'

  chair, a wicker fan stool that was totally out of place with

  the rest of the decor, but who gave a shit?

  It was the funny looking chair that he'd rescued

  from the back of the Lutheran Donation Center; apparently

  it was too beat up for even them to do anything with. But

  not for Jannik. He'd gotten it home, and the next day he

  checked out a book from the library about basket weaving

  and working with rattan.

  Between that, and what he'd googled on the Net,

  by the end of the weekend you'd have never thought that

  it was anything other than a brand new, high quality piece

  of furniture. He'd painted it, and there wasn't a wicker

  weave out of place anywhere to be seen.

  "I bring two friends," he said, hanging Klaus

  around his neck, and placing Slinky on his lap.

  "I know two friends who need their cat box cleaned

  out," Pokey said, cutting strawberries and arranging the

  platter of bread, fruit, cheese, and sliced meats.

  "I do it after."

  "Okay. You want some juice, or milk?"

  "Both?"

  "Sure. What about you, Mr. Allen?" He smiled at

  me and winked.

  "I'll have what he's having."

  Sander carried everything to the table and then

  swung past the fridge and grabbed the pitchers. He sat

  down and scooted his chair close to me.

  "Morning, beautiful," he said. "I hardly got any

  sleep."

  "Yeah. Sometimes sleep just isn't that... important,"

 
; I grinned.

  The bread was fresh from the bakery and the butter

  was creamy and soft, with just a hint of saltiness. "Where's

  that guy who came last night?" Jannik asked. "Is he not

  having some food?"

  "He'll come and get something when he gets up,"

  Sander told him. "We don't have to bother him."

  "Pokey, can I ask you something?"

  "Sure. Always."

  "That guy was really mean to you. I know who he

  is. I know what he did. And I wonder why... Why is he

  here?" Jannik asked.

  "He needs our help," Sander replied. "That's all we

  have to know. If you needed help I hope someone would

  give it to you, or to Johnnie."

  "But me and Johnnie aren't assholes."

  "No. But I can't turn someone away because of

  something that happened that's over. And I accepted his

  apology back then, just how Morten said he forgave you

  when you broke his game controller, right? You wouldn't

  want somebody to hold something against you, and so it's

  better if we do the right thing," Sander explained.

  "If you say so. But I still don't know. What do you

  think, Johnnie?" Jannik asked.

  "I'm with whatever brother decides."

  "What if he kills us in our sleep?"

  "Oh, I don't think we have to worry much about

  that," I said. "Your brother's right about doing the right

  thing, and right now this is the right thing."

  Torben stumbled into the kitchen rubbing the sleep

  from his eyes and asked if he was interrupting anything he

  shouldn't be a part of. Pokey assured him that he wasn't

  and invited him to join us.

  "There's plenty, Torben. Help yourself. And there's

  milk and orange juice here, and if you want coffee just

  press the green button on the coffee maker and it'll take

  care of itself," Sander said.

  I had my misgivings last night when he offered

  Torben a place, but I have to say that in spite of what had

  happened those years ago, I could tell that Torben was

  genuinely sorry. And my heart warmed at how

  comfortable Pokey was at making our surprise guest feel

  welcome.

  "Thank you both for letting me stay last night. I feel

  crazy that I even thought of coming here. I didn't mean to

  make you uncomfortable, but I didn't know what else to

  do," Torben began. "I got out of the hospital and I was

  standing outside and I kept thinking about you. I thought

  of everyone that I know, and I swear, guys, I couldn't think

  of a single person who would want to see me at their

  door."

  Torben took a moment to butter his bread and top

  it with cut strawberries. He sat it on his plate and cleared

  his throat. He looked at Sander; his eyes were so sad.

  "Sander Hansen. That's the only person I thought of

  who might help me. I've wanted to call you for so long to

  say how sorry I was, and..."

  "Torben, really, it's okay. You told me you were

  sorry in the hospital. I mean it when I say it's over, we start

  new, okay?" Sander said. "Now what do you want to do

  from here?"

  "Pffft... I haven't even thought about what I'm

  doing today," Torben snorted. "I'll have to find a place to

  live, and because of my... Because I'm sick I won't have to

  get a job ever. I don't know yet."

  "Johnnie and I talked about it and we're fine with

  you staying here until whenever. We don't mind."

  "I would only think about it if you will let me pay

  you money for rent, and I'll take care of my own food and

  everything. But I would love it if I could stay, Sander."

  "Johnnie?" Sander placed his hand on my knee.

  "You already know what I think," I said.

  "What about what I think?" Jannik added.

  "What do you think?" Sander asked him. Jannik

  took a long drink of orange juice and glanced over the top

  of his glass at Torben."

  "Do you like cats?" Jannik finally asked him.

  Torben nodded. "Then I think you are one lucky fucker to

  have a friend like my brother," he pronounced. "Don't

  mess it up this time, that's what I say."

  "I won't, I promise," Torben said, with a marked

  look of relief on his face. "If I can do anything, just tell me.

  I want to help too, you know?" Jannik started to say

  something but Sander cut him off at the knees.

  " You clean the cat box, Jannik. Nice try."

  "I wasn't going to..."

  "Nice try. Don't piss me off," Sander scolded.

  "I'd listen wisely, Jannik the Younger," I teased him.

  "Your foe is of Viking blood!"

  "Well, so happens I'm related to my foe and have

  the same blood as him so I'm not scared. And I'll clean out

  the cat shit. I don't know why every-body's being so pushy

  about it anyway."

  And so went our first of many breakfasts with

  Torben Petersen. And I was certain... Sander had done the

  right thing.

  "JANNIK MADS HANSEN! PLEASE report to the boss!

  You are required!" Sander chirped through Jannik's

  bedroom door.

  "You're stupid!" Jannik replied. "Come and get me,

  copper!"

  "Get out here before I count to three or you're in for

  it." Sander laughed.

  "You can't count that high and you know it! You're

  stupid!"

  "I'll call mom and then you'll be dead."

  "You would! What a baby! What do you want,

  anyway?"

  "Serious... No joking anymore. Me and John-nie

  need to talk to you about something and we thought we

  could go to the Saturday Market and get some food that's

  totally bad for us and talk there."

  "Okay." And he opened the door, his anorak jacket

  already on him. "Let's go."

  WE STOPPED AT THE BRUGSEN supermarket where

  they have a key machine so we could make Torben a set,

  and then headed over to the Saturday Market.

  There's a horse there and the owner gives rides to

  the little kids while their parents scour the market. There's

  a picture on our fireplace mantle of Pokey at about six

  years old riding this same horse. And here we are, two

  boys in love walking through the market holding hands

  enjoying our Saturday together. When I was a kid, not

  much older than Sander was, he was sitting atop this very

  same pony half way across the world. And now here we

  were. What a beautiful puzzle life is, especially when the

  pieces fit.

  "There's a table free over there! I'll get it!" Jannik

  hollered. He claimed the table by hopping on top of it and

  dancing to a Shu-bi-dua song that was playing over the

  sound system. The song is called—no lie— There is a

  Dogshit in My Garden. And the funny part isn't the song

  itself actually; it's that it is done in reggae style. That's

  right, folks, Danish Reggae!

  "If you're expecting 50-kroner bills in your

  undershorts, you'll be waiting a long time," Sander teased

  him.

  "Not fifties," Jannik shot back, "hundreds!"

  "Will you settle for nothing and get down from
>
  there?"

  "Depends," he said.

  "On what?"

  "Oh, nothing I was just talking about your

  undershorts. Depends."

  "You've been owned again, Pokes. I'd quit," I said.

  "Even now he's thinking of his next attack."

  "And there's more after that!" Jannik laughed, as he

  skipped off the bench and planted his butt on the soft

  grass. "So what's the big talk about?"

  "Something really important we have to discuss

  with you," Pokey said.

  "Let me guess... You're both gay and you are

  getting married," Jannik teased.

  "Ha ha, Mister Funnyfuck. We're serious, we have

  to talk with you. We'll have fun later, but right

  now it's important family talk, okay?" Sander said.

  "Oh. Sure. Okay. Sorry..."

  "No, it's fine. Just want you to listen good, okay?"

  "Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with

  me?"

  "Of course not, Cracker Jack! Never! No, look... We

  just want to help you with something, okay?" Sander told

  him.

  "What?" Jannik asked warily.

  "First, you are the most important person to me

  that I know, that Mama and Pop knows, and Ingrid..."

  "And me too," I added.

  "You're scaring me. What's going on?" Jannik asked

  fearfully. I had to agree that this wasn't starting out as

  we'd hoped. I picked up the thread.

  "Jan, here's the thing. And maybe it's easier if I say

  it because I haven't known you as long as the family.

  We're all worried about some things that we

  have noticed since you came back from Russia."

  "What?" he asked.

  "Little things mostly, and that's how we want them

  to stay. But if we don't talk about them and get something

  figured out, we're afraid that what happened to you

  might change you in a way that's

  not so good," I explained.

  "How do you think you feel?" Sander asked his

  little brother. "Do you feel a little bit different?" Jannik said

  nothing. His head dropped and tears appeared on his face.

  Silent tears.

  "Why are you crying? What's making you feel

  bad?" Sander asked him, snuggling up to him on the grass.

  "You can tell us anything, you know?" Jannik nodded, his

  eyes cast to the ground. He focused on a pair of bunny

  rabbits that were rooting in the grass.

  "I'm... I hate everything now," he confessed. "I want

  to cry all the time, and when nobody's there it's what I do."

  "And that's why we're talking about it now,"