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Final: Vastie's made a terrible mistake.

He cried a soft bit, trying to curl up with the body pillow his mother had given him for Christmas last. It was comfortable, certainly, but didn't feel like Mike. It didn't breathe, it didn't have his heart beat. It didn't tell him the sky wasn't going to fall in because he was a cocksucker.

Kyle thought a lot about that moment. He had no idea how he got it into his head that he should put his face down there. It seemed so natural. He wanted to please Mike, in any way he could. If it was a little head he wanted, then that was no problem.

But Mike hadn't even asked Kyle to stroke him, much less give him head. That was all his own doing, wasn't it? Somewhere deep inside, Kyle began to accept his attraction to the big man. The physical side of it was strong, and the emotional side huge.

He felt a twinge of another emotion. Jealousy.

He felt jealous of Jimmy.

Jimmy was eight, and frankly there wasn't much to be jealous of, but he took time away from Mike. Time he could be using to make Mike feel good, and time he could use to be pleasured by Mike's strong hands as well.

That was all silly, he eventually concluded, and felt good that he'd been able to actually pull himself out of that mental morass. With that confidence in his head, he drifted happily to sleep.

The phone rang, shattering his hard-won peaceful state.

He grumbled into the phone, "hello."

"What, you aren't even out of bed yet?" The voice, reminiscent of Darla's bellowed at him.

"Hi ma," He replied.

"What did I do, wake you up?" Kyle's mother blared out of the phone.

"Well actually, ma, you did." Kyle said grumpily. He did not like being awoken, particularly by the telephone and even more so by his mother on the telephone.

"Well why aren't you over here?" She nearly shouted into the phone.

"I missed the bus." He said.

"Well why didn't you call?" He could see her gesticulations in his mind's eye.

"I did. You didn't answer."

"I was out." She said.

He didn't bother to explain to her that that meant that if he would have shown up he would have been knocking on the door to an empty house. This of course did not stop her from bellowing at him.

"You're a schmuck leaving me all alone. What would your father say?"

"He'd probably be jealous." Kyle muttered a little too loud.

"What? What was that you little putz! Oy! If you were here I'd put your over my knee right now!"

Kyle smiled into the phone. Same old ma.

"So when are you going to move out of that dingy little apartment, and get a proper job?"

"Let the griping begin." Kyle said aloud, this time, quiet enough for her not to hear.

"I like my job, ma. Gives me freedom." He said to her, clearly.

"Freedom! FREEDOM! Bah! Your grandfather is rolling over in his grave, rest his soul. Freedom." She snorted.

"If I don't want to work, I don't have to. If I call in, and want work, I work. It's a good life." He said. To him, it was paradise working for St. Joe's in the float pool.

"As a secretary, a secretary! My son the male secretary! Oy vey!"

Kyle was smiling madly at this point. He'd scored the job through his intimate knowledge of computers and software, and had functioned in many different places at St. Joe's doing a variety of things. They called him frequently, and paid well.

"The least you could have done is go to school like your father and older brother."

"They're rabbis, ma." He said.

"When was the last time you went to temple? Huh? Tell me boy! You stopped going after your mitzvah!" She squalled at him.

Kyle let her rant for a moment or two, and then asked about her sister whom she could rant off on forever for quite some time.

"Oy! That little rat! Did you know she's still living with that filthy lesbian! In that dingy little apartment! Who knows what crap she's filling in my poor baby sister's head. Do you know she's twenty-eight and not even married? My mother, oy! She calls me every day asking about Sylvia," Kyle's mother ran the sentences together almost like a long, drawn out expletive.

Unexpectedly, there was a soft knock on the door,

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