"’Cause I’m strong enough to live without you." Hunter's clear baritone voice blended with Cher's recording of "Strong Enough" as they echoed off the green and white diamond shower stall tiles.

The thirty-eight-year-old bent down, turned off the overhead rain shower head and ran his hands through his short, spikey jet-black hair. He cleared the water from his light blue eyes, reached for the bath sheet, and dried his six-foot muscular body. He sat on the wooden bench along the bathroom wall and gently rubbed some witch hazel on his size twelve bare soles. A few years back, he'd discovered the astringent worked wonders with keeping his soles and toes soft, healthy, and free of rough spots. Another plus was that witch hazel didn't disrupt his natural scent. Hunter slipped on a pair of white and black diamond-decorated ankle socks, then hung up the towel and walked into the bedroom of the guest house he and his son, Elliot, were staying in while they looked for a permanent home, which was located behind his parent's stately manor that sat on a five-acre lot. The property boasted a luscious front lawn of bright green grass and large oak trees and had a private beach with picturesque white sand in the back. The manor and guest house had an unobstructed mountain and ocean view from almost every room. He opened a drawer, pulled out a pair of skin-tight black jeans, put them on, chose his tan sleeveless polo shirt, and put on a square white gold ring with a diamond eagle in the center. Once dressed, the brunet put on his black canvas skater shoes, then followed the enticing scent of freshly baked homemade biscuits into the kitchen.

In the cozy nook of a kitchen, fourteen-year-old Elliot danced around on the light-colored hardwood floor. His voice hadn't changed yet, so the teenager still had an airy soprano singing voice. "Don't just let life pass you by like winter in July," the boy sang along with Sarah Brightman's uptempo song "Winter In July" as he made breakfast. Elliot was so much into his endeavor that he didn't notice his dad standing in the doorway, watching him with a huge smile and a mixture of love and pride shining in his eyes. 

“Damn, I'm gonna miss your high notes when your voice changes, Kiddo," Hunter said before he cracked up laughing and leaned against the wall when he saw his boy jump, screech like a girl, and almost drop the skillet of scrambled eggs.

"Dad, you scared the shit outta me," Elliot exclaimed after he composed himself and before he dissolved into a fit of giggles. The dark brown-haired teen set the black skillet on the stove top, then turned around, ran to his dad, and launched his five-foot-five-inch, one-hundred-twenty-five-pound body into his arms.

Hunter grunted and pretended to almost drop his giddy boy. "Don't let your Grandma hear you talk like that, Eli," he said as he tightly hugged his son and kissed his cheek.

The teen's light blue eyes sparkled with happiness and possessed a youthful innocence, not jaded by the harsher side of life. However, that didn't mean that Elliot was oblivious to reality. For as long as he could remember, the boy accompanied his family to the soup kitchens and food banks where they all volunteered. Right now, however, the boy's eyes reflected the playful mischief ingrained in his personality. He looked into his dad's eyes, smiled, and said, "But Grandma says worse when she's driving or watching Fox News to see what the right wing is saying so she can think of a rebuttal when discussing politics."

Politically, the Bryant family were devout Democrats, Independents, and a few moderate but socially leaning left Republicans.

Hunter threw his head back and boisterously cackled at the teen's response. He shook his head, laid the giggly boy face up on the floor, straddled his waist, and pinned his son's arms over his head. "I see a cheeky boy who needs a visit from his favorite buddy, the tickle monster."

Immediately, Elliot's high-pitched laughter sprang from his lips, and his body wriggled and squirmed as his size seven-and-a-half bare feet slapped the floor. "Shit, not the tickle monster, Daddy," the teen squealed. 

"Wait! I wanna join in too, Papa Hunt,"  Julian O'Hanna said as he walked in through the kitchen's unlatched sliding screen door. The fifteen-year-old was at the doorway, silently watching the playful exchange between father and son. He loved seeing how loving and openly affectionate the pair was with each other.

"No fair launching a double tickle attack on the defenseless and adorably cute Elliot," the trapped teen stated between his boyish giggles.

"Babe, you know how much I love hearing your giggles in the morning. It's the best part of the day," Julian said as he wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's ankles and slowly stroked his slender index finger up and down the center of his trapped boy's bare arches. The five-foot-eight-inch red-haired teen's bright green eyes shimmered and shined like an emerald and were a stunning contrast to his flame-red hair.

The house filled with the dad's teenagers' giggles as Julian tickled the younger teen's feet and Hunter worked on the pair's victim's hairless armpit hollows. Elliot's head shook from side to side as his legs pumped back and forth, his toes scrunched, and his arches wrinkled. After a few minutes, the ticklers released their ticklish prey and gave him a bear hug from both sides. Elliot's heart overflowed with love for his boyfriend and dad. He thoroughly enjoyed the tickling and playtime with both males. For him, it was the best way for the trio to strengthen their bond. Hunter smiled as he got up from the floor and eagerly hugged Julian. In his heart and soul, the Irish boy was as much his son as Elliot. The brunet grinned and kneaded his fingers between the redhead's ribs. Julian's pinkish lips broke apart to let the hysterical laughter escape. His body jerked and jumped around, trying to break free.

Elliot shook his head and giggled as he embraced his boyfriend and kissed his lips before going to work on plating the food. Once everyone calmed down and was ready, the trio sat down to enjoy a hearty breakfast. The conversation was energetic and full of various topics. Two of them being Doug Bryant's election campaign and the house hunt. Doug was Hunter's dad and the former Governor, and now he was running for mayor. The fifty-eight-year-old patriarch wanted to stay in politics on a smaller and more local scale. He wanted to devote more time to his family and let his wife, Dottie focus on her thriving real estate company.

"So, Dad," Elliot said before sipping his orange juice. "Are you meeting Grandma at the prospect today?"

"Yeah, I'm looking at a promising four-bedroom, two-story Craftsman in the White Sands neighborhood."

"Really?" Julian excitedly asked. He blushed when his reaction garnered giggles from the other two occupants at the table. "I love riding my bike through that neighborhood," he paused to take a bite of sausage and then bit into his biscuit. "Damn, babe, your homemade biscuits are freakin' amazing," the red-haired teen exclaimed. He giggled when Elliot blushed and sheepishly said thank you. "Hey, I just remembered, Anthony Wilcox lives in White Sands."

Hearing the musician's name brought a flood of joyous memories to Hunter. He closed his eyes, sat back, and took a moment to conjure a picture of the boy he'd spent his summers with. He and Anthony also gave their virginity up to each other. The younger man was the one who got away, and the one Hunter's heart ached for even after twenty-some years.

"Dad, are you okay," Elliot asked. He and Julian got out of their seats and encased their dad and, in Julian's case, his second dad in a loving embrace.

Hunter brought himself back to the present, smiled, and kissed both boys' on their cheeks. "I'm fine, boys. Anthony's name brought me back to a happy time and incredible experiences." More than once, Hunter regaled the teens with stories of his days with the Wilcox family, so he didn't go any further. The teens sat in their chairs, and after the three young men wiped away their tears, they resumed eating and talking.

"Hey, Papa."

"Yeah, Jules."

"Mom wanted me to ask you if there's any chance you could work her in for an appointment sometime between tomorrow and the next day. She's got an important event this weekend and wants to look her best. Since you're the best stylist in the county, probably the state, as usual, she wants you."

He smiled and ruffled Julian's red locks. "I'm not the best stylist," he said, "thanks for the compliment. I really appreciate it." Hunter owned a popular beauty salon. He was always booked, sometimes months in advance. However, he somehow found time to fill the needs of friends and family. He sipped his coffee. "I'll look at my schedule when I get to the salon and call her to set a time. Are you staying with us tonight, Jules?"

Julian's smile was wide, and his head bobbed up and down. "Yeppers! Mom and Dad said they needed a break, and it's time for my other Daddy to enjoy the wondrous joys of my company." His comment was rewarded with a round of laughter that bounced off the walls of the eat-in kitchen.

When they finished eating, the boys cleaned the kitchen while Hunter finished getting ready. Twenty minutes later, Elliot and Julian kissed and hugged their dad before he left for the day. They also surprised the older man by launching a double-sided tickle attack by kneading his sides. Hunter fell to his knees, lost in an abyss of hysterical laughter as his boys' giggles joined his boisterous laughs. He promised to check in periodically and told the teens he loved them before he walked out the door, got into his silver Camaro convertible, and drove down the long driveway.

To be continued...

Posted: 06/16/2023