A gay story: Maverick Cattle Company Ch. 10
There are scenes of unprotected sex depicted in this story. In all cases it was between the two main characters, who are in a committed, monogamous relationship and were tested. If you aren’t in the same kind of relationship, then you should always protect yourself and wear a condom.
Mitch sat quietly in the living room. Anyone who knew Mitch, even passing acquaintances, would recognize this as not normal. But the wait for the caseworker to return with Trent was wearing on his nerves. Darrin was working late at the university, and Josh stayed to get help from Zach on some classwork. Both of them perfectly reasonable explanations, but Mitch really didn’t buy either excuse. He thought they were staying away intentionally so they didn’t have to deal with Trent after his physical. He couldn’t really blame them, he didn’t see any way this was going to go well.
Mitch let out a sigh and propped his boots on the table, a habit Darrin had almost broken. But right now, he didn’t care. He was tense, apprehensive and desperately wanted a beer so he could relax a little. But somehow he didn’t think it would be good to smell of alcohol when the caseworker arrived with Trent. The new kid was already cornering off with Josh, the two of them going at each other like two old tomcats. Every time they had to work together, it exploded into an argument. Mitch was just happy it hadn’t devolved into an actual fist fight, at least not yet. Trent seemed to recognize that he was at a disadvantage in size and muscle, as Josh definitely outsized Trent. Not taller, they were similar heights, but Josh was certainly the more muscular of the two. Mitch was just glad they had the guesthouse for Trent to live in; otherwise the bickering between the two young males would have been unbearable.
Darrin had been surprised that Trent hadn’t ran away the first night, but Mitch wasn’t. Trent had to be smarter than he let on, or he wouldn’t have survived on the streets – his survival instincts were working just fine. Trent understood that being fed and given a warm place to sleep, and a whole house to himself, was a sweet deal. Mitch did have to laugh a little at the tough guy persona Trent was putting out, given that he looked 14 at most. But Mitch trusted the sheriff, who said Trent would be 17 in a few days. The one thing even Mitch was finding tiring was Trent’s use of ‘fuck’ for punctuation. As Mitch started to speculate on how he might get Trent to clean up the language, he heard a car door slam shut. In spite of himself, Mitch had to chuckle. Trent was certainly not subtle.
Hoisting himself off the couch, Mitch made it to the door just in time for it to jump open and Trent to blast past him with a black look on his face. Turning back, he got a crooked smile from the caseworker as she handed Mitch a handful of small white bags. Mitch looked over the sacks that he recognized as prescription bags, and looked back at the worker, who seemed perfectly happy to not step into the house from which increasingly loud noises were coming.
“I take it the tests didn’t go well,” said Mitch quietly.
“They could have been worse. He tested negative for HIV, but he’ll need to have a follow up test in six months. Unfortunately, like a lot of these kids, he has Chlamydia and Gonorrhea. They seem to think if they don’t have anal sex, they’re safe from STD’s. Fortunately, both are treatable. Just follow the instructions on the prescriptions. Unfortunately, he was also on the streets long enough to have a bad case of head lice. The shampoo for them is in the other bag, you’ll need to use the comb on his hair too because—”
Mitch held up his hand to stop her. “I know about the nits. And with his hair, it’s going to be a pain to get them all. Anything else we need to know?”
The caseworker let out a sigh. “He’s been abused. But he told the doctor that he’s never had anal sex. He does have some nasty scars, some new and some older. Frankly, Mr. McRichards, he’s got a lot of psychological damage and I’m not sure you and your partner are the best ones to help him. But Sheriff White Cloud seems to think that you two are exactly what he needs, and his opinion carries a lot of weight around our office.”
Mitch gave the worker a piercing look and paused for an extended time before replying. “He’s welcome here as long as he wants to stay. It’s amazing how helpful a little unconditional love can be, and empathy from someone who’s been in a similar situation.”
“Maybe. But he’s still a minor and I will be checking to make sure he isn’t being abused in your house. Some foster family compositions are more successful than—”
Mitch stopped her with a fierce look. “Don’t you dare. I swear to God I won’t be responsible for what I say or do if you finish that thought. That a professional child advocate would buy into the lie that gay men routinely abuse children, well it pisses me off no end.” Mitch paused for a minute, bridling his thoughts and mouth, and continued, “Do you have anything else . . . Miss?”
The caseworkers lips formed a hard line, as her eyes became slits. “No, but as I said. I will be back. And there will be surprise visits.”
“Come as often as you like,” said Mitch with his arms crossed.
Without a word the woman turned and walked back to her car. Mitch continued to watch until she had left their property and then turned back with a soft sigh, knowing now he had to deal with Trent.
Walking into the living room, he found Trent standing in the middle of the room looking very defiant. Before Mitch could speak, Trent spat out “I didn’t sit on your fuck’n precious furniture, since I’m all fuck’n infested with fuck’n lice.” Trent took in a deep breath and Mitch could almost swear there was a slight shudder. “I’ve got the fuck’n clap too. Goddamn it! I never let the fuckers screw me. I thought that would fuck’n keep me from fuck’n git’n it.” Trent’s face hardened as he turned to challenge Mitch. “So are you fuck’n git’n rid of me now? Cause now you know I’m diseased so I won’t make a decent boy toy for ya.”
For the second time in so many minutes, Mitch actually wanted to hit someone and this time it was Trent. Mitch knew he was just pushing the same buttons the DHS worker had already hit pretty hard. But Mitch quickly quailed his anger, realizing this was Trent’s method of dealing with the problem. Mitch took a deep breath and began.
“No, you’re not getting thrown out. You’re also never, and I repeat never, going to have sex with either of us. You have some diseases and parasites; fortunately they’re all treatable. You need to shower using the lice shampoo, and I’ll wash all your bedding and clothes and take care of anything else in the dryer to kill the lice.” Mitch looked Trent directly in the eyes and continued, “I’m sure it will be nice to not have it burn every time you piss, and for your head to not itch all the time. We don’t know what you’ve been through, but no one in this house is going to judge you for what has happened.”