tagGay MaleKasper's Den Ch. 06

Kasper's Den Ch. 06

bytarzanacide©

My 50th story on Literotica. Thanks everyone for your support!

*****

"I met you in the dark, you lit me up

You made me feel as though, I was enough"


"And what happens when you cry in front of the Hamad family?" The psychiatrist asked me.

Mr. Hamad had filled him in on the situation with my parents. He asked all about my childhood, my family, my dad. I kept waiting for him to judge me or tell me what to do to feel better, but he didn't. He just listened, a lot.

"I keep crying around them. I feel like all I do is bring them my problems," I'd said.

"You keep bringing up crying. What's so bad about crying? Do you feel that's something you shouldn't do?" He'd asked.

"I'm not a crybaby. I haven't done that since I was a little kid, but I keep crying with the Hamad family," I'd told him.

"What did your birth family do when you cried? How did they react?" He'd asked.

"Told me to stop, said boys don't do that. My dad would either get mad at me or make fun of me... call me a baby or something... We didn't do that stuff," I'd said.

"How did that make you feel?" He'd asked.

"Bad, you know... I was always weird to them. like..." I trailed off trying to think.

"Like you didn't belong with them?" He suggested.

"Yeah... I'd go hide in my closet and get it together..." I went silent and stared out his window. His office overlooked the ocean. It wasn't an ocean though. Amir had corrected me on that this morning when he drove me along the coast to see the doctor.

"It's so beautiful. What ocean is it?" I asked.

"It's a gulf, Kasper. The Gulf of Arabia... Persian Gulf is what Americans call it. You can't see it from this far away, but that's Iran on the other side." He pointed off in the blue horizon.

"So where's Persian?" I asked. He laughed.

"Persian is a people. Iran is the country. We've gone on vacation there, to Kish. It's an island, nice beaches... Didn't you learn geography in school?" He asked and put his hand on my leg.

"Kasper!" The psychiatrist said and woke me out of my recollection.

"Sorry... what, sir?" I asked.

"I asked what happens when you cry in front of the Hamad family. What do they do?" he asked me and wrote something in his notes.

"They hug me... try to cheer me up... tell me it's ok to cry... tell me they'll be there for me," I answered and shifted in the oversized chair with high arms and a pinstriped design.

"How does that feel to you?" he asked.

"Safe... They don't have any hate in them. They let me be myself and not so hard all the time... Like they really care about me... Almost like I'm their youngest child... I don't know why. I don't get why they want to deal with my messes. Everything I do just causes problems for them and..." I started to elaborate, but he put a hand up.

"Let's back up. Your first feeling was 'safe.' Can you sit with that for a moment? You feel safe with them. You have food, a bed, and people who care about you." he said. I thought about that.

"Safe. you're right. I belong with them. They make me feel like I can just be a kid, do stupid stuff I never got to do when I was young. It was kind of weird at first, but I should just go with it, right? Just enjoy being their child. Just have fun and be a good boy for them," I nodded happily.

"Hang on, Kasper. That's a pretty big leap you are making there. Let's just wrap up today with the thought that you are safe. You have time to figure things out and people who will support you while you do it. You're in a safe space." He said and stood. I guessed our hour was up.

He went over to open the door to his office and I heard Amir jump up. I walked over to leave.

"Is he going to be ok?" Amir asked the doctor as he came into the office with a worried tone as though I'd just gone through surgery. He reached for me and pulled me against his chest.

"With support and understanding from a good family like yours, he will be fine once he works through the pain, is allowed to process it with understanding people there to see him through it. He might be extra sleepy sometimes or hyper at other times. It's a coaster," the doctor answered.

Amir kissed my cheek and rubbed my back, pushing me into his hold. I put my nose in the crook of his neck and smelled his cologne.

"He will have whatever he needs! I'll make sure he has no worries or troubles. I'll be his protector." Amir turned to look at me. "You can cry or yell or whatever you need, Kasper. We're all here for you. We'll help you."

"I know your family will be the best thing for him," the doctor agreed.

"He just looks so... when I saw him on the jet when they got here from Durban. He looked so helpless, so small and fragile. I can't imagine what he went through... what he's going through. How could someone do that to their own kid? It just makes me want to protect him from everything, hold him and never let go," Amir confessed.

"Not everyone has parents like yours who are so understanding, but he is stronger than you think. He will be ok. He's going through loss. Being there for him and letting him express what he's feeling when he is ready to share is important. He might just want you to hold him and say nothing at all. And please remember when you speak that you're speaking about the people who gave him life, the only family he's known," the doctor said. Amir nodded.

"Yes... ok. I can do that." Amir gave me another squeeze and put his nose in my hair.

"I'll follow up with your father... There's no easy way through grief. He needs his time to mourn, process, understand why this happened. Be patient with him," the doctor assured and walked us out. He gave me a hug and said we'd see each other again soon.

+++

After that, I went to run some errands with Amir. His sports car was so futuristic. Everything was touchscreen and voice automated. The computer reminded him of events he had coming up and warned him when there was traffic ahead.

He took me to his university. It was a sprawling campus of glass buildings and green lawns with high palm trees, an oasis in the desert landscape. We went through security gates where a guard took a look at him and waved us through. He had his own special part of the parking garage that had a gate that opened when his car got close to it. It had wide spots and was completely underground, cool like a cave.

"So this is where the royalty parks?" I asked with a laugh. Amir seemed embarrassed by their position sometimes, but he'd gone through his daily routine too many times to have thought about this perk. He put his car in park and ignored my joke, wanting a kiss instead.

"C'mon, we have to drop off some paperwork. Dad... the one you know as Emerson... Should I say White dad and Arab dad? Is that racist? I just call Emerson 'Dad' and Ali 'Father.'" Amir got off track in his thoughts.

"I picked up on that. Dad and father. I think of them as Emerson and Mr. Hamad since your brother is also named Ali," I said.

"Ali Raza is my brother's name," Amir corrected.

"Anyways! Dad's fundraiser for scholarships was better than he projected. We are able to bring in 35 students from developing countries. So this is some paperwork on the 10 students my parents recommended. They went through over 200 applicants! The other 25 students will get picked by committee from the other 900 students who applied!" Amir said. "So yes, this is where we park."

"Scholarships? Wow that's really cool. My brothers all got them for academics and sports, but I'm not really good at anything they give money for." I laughed.

"That's not true. Once you start to believe in yourself, you'll find all sorts of things you care about. If you want to take a class or two, we'll support you," Ali said and took my hand. He put his leather work case over his shoulder and we headed out of the garage. It was a million degrees outside, but he quickly led me into a building and through the air conditioned corridors that connected everything on the campus.

"This is my workspace. I share it with Ali, but he never uses it. He likes the student commons," Amir said when he took me to a small office in the corner of a large open room filled with students at various work stations. He had a private area with corner windows overlooking the mountains on one side and water on the other. He set his bag on the desk that had shelves above it with pictures of his family and little mementos from his travels.

I was amazed that he'd held my hand the whole time we'd walked from the car. He'd said hi to people he knew and even stopped to chat for a minute with one of his professors. He introduced me as "my boy, Kasper." The whole time he kept his hold on me proudly and no one batted an eye. It apparently wasn't strange here to have a blonde boy in tow. I sat in his leather swivel-chair while he sorted out his papers.

"So what's the deal here?" I asked. "It's like is everyone here into guys? How does that work?"

Amir laughed at that, "Everyone is into whatever they're into. I don't ask. That would be weird."

"But the lion thing? What's that about? You call me your cub sometimes. Does everyone have a cub? Are cubs what they call smaller guys?" I prodded.

"No one knows for sure about that," Amir said and leaned against his desk. "My History professor said it goes back to the time of the crusades. This part of the world was an Eastern center of culture. Back when Europeans were still in little tribes and the Americas belonged to just the Americans."

"I'm an American," I informed him.

"You're a European-U.S.-American. I meant the indigenous people... Satra was already a developed state ruled by powerful tribal leaders. Our terrain offered natural defenses and we didn't have the eye of the Western world on us. The European armies never made it over this far, but occasionally we'd get a fighter or small band who had wandered off or gotten separated. They'd spend weeks lost in the desert and either find Satra or one of our traveling merchants would collect them. They were fair, light-haired men with skin blistered by the sun. Their spirits broken by the desolate terrain, they were quite receptive to our stronger men. They fell in love, especially the ones who'd been rescued." Amir continued.

I looked up at him with rapt attention as he leaned against his desk. I rolled closer to him and put my face against his abs. He smiled at me and put his hand on my hair. Emerson had put it up in a neat little bun. He liked it out of my face. Amir smoothed it back.

Emerson had picked out a pink short-sleeved button up shirt tucked into small khaki shorts and white skater shoes. I looked like a kid on Easter morning ready to go hunt eggs after church. I didn't mind though. I pretended like I needed his help. Emerson said he loved having a boy to dress again. It made him happy which made Mr. Hamad very happy. With him pleased, it meant I brought good things to their family. I wanted to be accepted, be one of them.

It also made Amir happy that his parents adored me; an added bonus. I fit into his world. I would be good for his future aspirations of managing the family's businesses.

"Our men would nurse them back to health and most begged to stay. Our people were advanced and our city had wide clean streets, running water from pristine wells, and beautiful gardens. It was heaven compared to the disease-ridden villages and squalid fiefdoms to which the men were accustomed. Europe was always at war and in chaos. They developed... well, what you and I are developing. The lion is a symbol of our people, like the Eagle to yours. The European men were not of our people, but they were granted rights when sponsored by a Satra citizen,a lion. The sponsoring citizens, their lovers, were responsible for them... they were like cubs." Amir concluded.

"Strangely that makes sense," I laughed. "So I'm your wandering warrior?"

"You never have to wander with me... never have to fight. I will be your protector," Amir said gently. He leaned down and kissed my head. I stood up and moved between his legs. He put his arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss. We fit so perfectly together, a two-piece puzzle.

"Are you going to fuck me?" I whispered when his lips pulled away. I bit my lip and tried to give him the most innocent eyes I could fake. It worked. He gave me that look like he'd agree to anything, but then quickly shook off my spell.

"Your eyes are hard to say no to. You look like a Japanese cartoon of what a twink should be, but there are cameras up there and there." He pointed to two small circles in the ceiling. "We had some trouble with equipment missing so the university put them in."

"We've done it in front of cameras before," I reminded him of our nearly naked time in front of the show crew and cameras.

"Yes, and after that my father sent me to another continent! I ruined Africa. If we mess up Asia, where would I go?" Amir laughed. He pet my hair and nibbled on my ear while our hard bulges rubbed against each other. This was all I'd get for right now. I guess it would have to do.

He pushed away from me then and grabbed the paperwork he needed to turn in for his fathers.

"Come, Kasper. Before we get into trouble and make these poor students have to wait for their acceptance letters. Let's go," he said. He didn't want to leave anymore than I did, but he made a good point. We needed to be more discreet about the physical side of our love. His parents still saw him as their sweet, impressionable child. They weren't ready for him to be a lion just yet.

He took me to a top floor office that had a picture of his family along with five others. He pointed out their pictures and told me about them and what they did. His family did the most for education, but each family held their own causes important to growing the kingdom

and investing in her people. I wondered if there was a king. He handed the papers to a secretary and laid out specific instructions for each one. She nodded and seemed to know what to do.

We went to the student center next. It was brand new and looked like a futuristic resort. There was a rock climbing wall in the center that went up three stories. A muscled Korean guy gave a nod and wink to Amir as he made his ascent. Amir waved, but pulled me on without saying anything. Around the giant rock was a large bookstore and a few restaurants and shops.

Amir was telling me about the construction of the new student center. They'd just opened it last fall and his father had financed it. He was pointing out the different shops they'd brought in from Europe, a lot of stuff from the UK, when we rounded a corner and I got the surprise of my week.

"Holy Shop!" I said and grabbed his arm excitedly. "They have Busy Burger! Oh My God! They have the BEST french fries in LA! We have to get some."

"Oh, it's... yeah we wanted something from LA, but the healthier options weren't interested in opening an outlet here. We really don't eat that kind of stuff. It's so unhealthy," Amir droned on.

"No! It's the best. I have my punchcard! One more Busy Burger and I get a free shake! They're so good! We have to get one. I have cash." I fumbled for my wallet to show him.

"I'll buy you a shake if you want. Maybe we can split one and then hit the gym when we get home," Amir offered. He was laughing at my excitement.

"No! I have to earn it! I just need one more punch. Wait... Where is my card?" I dug through my wallet and couldn't find it.

"Really, Kasper. It's ok," Amir said and reached for my arm. I couldn't find it. It wasn't there.

"Where did it go? It was here right behind my license," I grew frantic. I knew it had to be there. I went to one of the food court tables on a mission and emptied out everything, a small pile of cards and dollar bills. I had my high school ID, my driver's license, my 7-11 card, a photobooth strip from the Ventura pier of me and a girl I hung out with, and a coupon for gum my mom had cut out for me because she knew I liked it. It was expired and the punch card wasn't there.

"What the fuck? What did I do with it? It has one punch left to get a shake! One punch!" I felt my voice breaking. Amir came up behind me and hovered over me with his warm cage of muscles. He put his hands on the table, spread on either side of me. I felt his warm, reassuring breath on the back of my neck. He wanted to calm me.

"It's ok, we'll find it, Kasper... we'll find it, baby," Amir's voice dropped an octave, gentle but authoritative. He kissed my neck and sorted through my cards. There was a card stuck to the back of my high school ID, but it turned out to be a business card from a friend of mine who was an unsuccessful DJ.

"That's not it... That DJ sucks. What did I do with the card?" I was desperate over a stupid card.I felt my heart begin to pound and that overwhelming sense of panic rose in me. Why was I getting so upset over it? I couldn't stop myself. Amir didn't understand what was happening.

"Maybe the DJ stole it. Shall we phone him up?" Amir giggled.

"It's not here... It's lost... I just need one punch," I said with sadness. I suddenly realized where it was. It was in the tray in my room at my parent's house. It was a white dish with little dancing monkeys on it. My grandmother had brought it from her trip to South America.

"It's not here, Kasper. It's ok. I'll make them give you a new one. I'll pay for it. I'll have them fill a stack of them with punches," Amir laughed, not sensing the rising panic in me. He turned my wallet over and showed me the empty spaces. He thought I was being silly.

"It's in my room at my parents house only... it's not my room anymore... not my family... it's gone... they're gone... one fucking punch left... I can't go back..." I broke down sobbing and Amir quickly wrapped his arms around me as I gasped for air. He pulled me back against him.

"Let it out, baby. It's ok... I'm here, your lion has you," Amir breathed against my ear.

I turned back towards him, my face red with panic, snot, and tears.

"I can't go home... They won't let me go home... Why can't I go home?" I asked between sobs and gasps and sniffles of the snot leaking out of my nose. My family didn't want me.

"We're your home, sweet baby... We love you so much," Amir said and pulled me into his chest. He sat down in the food court booth and pulled me down to straddle his lap. He didn't care who was watching or what they thought. He held me while my body shook, released the pain.

"I love you so much, baby boy. You can always cry in my arms when you need. We'll get through the pain together. I'm here... no matter what," Amir promised. He rubbed my back, rocked me gently in his arms. He laid back in the booth and steadied me on his chest. I soaked his expensive shirt with my tears, he didn't complain.

He held me until I calmed against his chest. He kept rubbing my back and whispering encouraging things in my ear, "I got you baby, I'm here. I'm so sorry you're in pain. I wish I could take it for you... You're safe with me... I want you." Amir talked to me as I went from quiet sobbing to silently numb. I'd never understand why he cared so deeply. I was a mess.

I cried it out and then felt a deep embarrassment. We were cuddled together in the food court booth. I heard the din of students as they filed in for lunch. Amir didn't appear to care though.

"We should go," I sniffled and raised my head off his chest. He looked down at me and pushed back a few loose strands of my hair that had escaped in the breakdown. "People are coming in for lunch. They're seeing us."

He reached for his work bag and pulled out a plastic pouch of wet wipes. He cleaned my face.

"Let them look. Are you worried they'll be jealous and want a beautiful, blonde boy of their own?" Amir asked with a smile as he rubbed his thumb over my cheek.

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