by Max Hudson
Mason’s hand slips under the waistband of Owen’s pants, reaching right around his underwear and going straight for his naked penis. Owen gasps at the touch, and Mason squeezes slightly, moving his hand up and down along the shaft. Irritated with the barrier of his pants, Owen slips them and his underwear off, letting Mason have full access to him. He reaches for Mason’s penis through the sweatpants. Mason groans at the touch, and Owen smiles in response.
Owen pulls Mason off the bed and quickly strips him down, grabbing his ass and pulling Mason’s mouth back to his quickly. They make out standing up, penises pressed against each other and grinding against each other’s bodies for a moment before Mason breaks off the kiss.
“I want to try something,” he breathes, kissing Owen on the mouth hard. “I want you to fuck me.”
Excitement courses through Owen and his dick throbs. He’s about to agree before a thought occurs to him. “Wait. It’ll hurt you, won’t it?”
Mason blushes. “It shouldn’t, no. I, uh, I’ve been prepping for a while now.” He kisses Owen again, grabbing his penis and running his hands along it. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.”
Owen shivers, grabbing Mason’s face and kissing him hard. Mason kisses him back before pulling back and darting out of the room. Confused, Owen is still standing there when Mason returns shortly, holding a small bottle in his hand. He holds it between two fingers and twiddles it before tossing it to Owen.
“Lube,” he says, kneeling on the bed. He reaches a hand out and Owen takes it, joining him on the bed. Slowing down, he kisses Mason softly, running his hands through the other’s hair and caressing his face.
“Are you sure?” Owen breathes.
“Yes,” Mason responds, kissing along Owen’s neck and up to his ear. “I want you to fuck me, Owen.”
Not needing further prompting, Owen opens the bottle of lube and squirts a hearty amount on his member. Mason grabs it, spreading the lube along his shaft. Mason turns around, getting on all fours and facing away from Owen. Breathing quickly, Owen rests a hand on Mason’s hip and guides his dick toward Mason’s ass.
He makes contact with his skin and, slowly, he pushes inside of him, groaning in pleasure the further he goes. Mason gasps, and Owen pauses.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.
“Yes,” Mason gasps. “Yes, it feels good.”
Owen pushes further in until he can go no further, Mason’s bare skin touching his abdomen. He starts to slowly pull out, shocked at how good it feels. It’s tight, warm, and he grabs Mason’s hips more solidly. Owen pushes back in, and Mason groans, pushing his hips back onto Owen’s. He continues to move slowly for a few minutes, reveling in the pleasure of being inside of Mason and the feeling of his penis being squeezed on all sides.
As he thrusts forward, Mason pushes back, harder, against him. A thrill runs through Owen, and he responds in kind, thrusting faster into Mason. He sees Mason grab his own cock, pulling rhythmically to Owen’s thrusts. Seeing Mason touch himself makes Owen throb, and he starts to feel pleasure building inside of him. He starts thrusting faster, harder, using Mason’s hips as leverage. His balls slap against Mason’s as he pounds into him, the pleasure building and building.
“Fuck,” Mason groans. Owen moans, slamming into Mason as he starts to cum. “Fuck!” Mason shouts, cum shooting out of his own penis as Owen’s orgasm starts to fade.
Owen pulls out of Mason slowly, aftershocks of pleasure waving through his body as he does. Mason flops down on his stomach, and Owen lies down next to him, his breathing ragged. He reaches over and traces patterns lightly on the skin of Mason’s back, and Mason shivers.
“That,” he murmurs, his face squished into the mattress, “was wonderful. My lips are tingling.”
Owen leans over and kisses his lips lightly, giving him a peck on the nose before lying back down. “Mine too,” he breathes, letting his hand rest on the small of Mason’s back. Mason’s eyes drift close, and Owen just stares at him, tracing the lines of his face with his eyes. He smiles. As much as the situation with Jenna and his daughters pains him, he doesn’t regret this, wouldn’t take it back. He’d never loved Jenna the way he loves Mason, and he closes his eyes as well, letting himself be enveloped in a bubble of contentment for the rest of the night.
Chapter Eighteen
Owen wakes the next morning exhausted, dark circles hollowing out his eyes and a haggard look on his face. He dresses mechanically, grabbing the suit he’d laid out the night before and pulling each article of clothing on without really looking at it. After finishing, he glances in the mirror, and finding that everything looks to be in its place, he moves out into the kitchen to grab breakfast.
Mason is sitting at the dining table, munching on a small bowl of cereal. They make eye contact, but neither one makes a sound, Owen unable to muster the energy to talk and Mason sensing Owen needs the quiet this morning. Owen grabs a granola bar and sits across from Mason, and they eat in silence.
After they finish, they continue to sit, neither speaking and neither moving to sit close to the other. Owen feels hollowed out, numb. After a while, Mason makes the first move, shifting in his seat to reach for Owen’s hand. Owen lets him take it, but doesn’t really respond. Though he doesn’t consciously think about it, he’s afraid that if he lets anything touch him today, even kind gestures like this one, he’ll fall apart and won’t be able to put himself back together.
“It’ll be okay,” Mason murmurs, rubbing soothing circles on the back of Owen’s hand.
Owen nods numbly, unable to give a better answer than that. Truthfully, Owen can’t believe that everything will turn out okay. That, by some miracle, he’ll be allowed to see his girls again. He runs through the logistics of it, thinking out what a future would look like without them in it. Faith he could see soon, as she’d be eighteen in less than a year and then Jenna couldn’t keep her from seeing him. She’d no longer be under Jenna’s custody and no longer forced to stay away, though other issues might arise surrounding living situations and college funds. Grace and Rebecca would be the hardest ones to get through. Grace wouldn’t be eighteen for another four years, Rebecca another seven. Seven years without seeing his youngest daughter. He swallows hard, fighting back tears. Who says she would want to see him after so long, either? She’s only eleven, and Owen can’t bring himself to expect her to come rushing to his side the second she turns eighteen. Faith is one thing. Waiting just over nine months to see her dad wasn’t too bad, and other things could be worked out. But four years? Seven?
Owen lets his head fall into his hand, squeezing his eyes shut. He thinks of all the things he’ll miss in their lives, all the birthdays he won’t be allowed to attend, all the dates he won’t be able to see off, all the accomplishments and failures and excitements and tears he won’t be there for. He won’t be able to see any of it, and he wouldn’t blame them for hating him for it. It would be his choices that would make this happen, and though he cannot take them back and doesn’t regret them, he would accept them turning their frustration into hatred toward him. He would hate himself, so why shouldn’t they?
Mason would be the only remaining person in his life that he could see, and for that he is grateful. He squeezes Mason’s hand tightly, needing to feel the pressure of his skin to remind himself that Mason would be there. No matter what happened over the next few days, no matter if he got to have his girls all the time or lost them for good, Mason would be there to hold his hand.
Mason gives him a small smile and motions to the door. “We should probably get going,” he murmurs.
Owen nods, standing and heading to the car without another word.
They reach the courthouse in less than twenty minutes. Mason gets out of the car immediately, but Owen stares at the building for a moment, taking a breath, trying to center himself before opening his door. The wind bites at his cheeks, and he and Mason hurry inside to get out of the cold.
As soon as they enter the
building, they see Jenna sitting on a bench with her lawyer. She looks up at the sound of the door opening and narrows her eyes, scowling at them before turning back to the lawyer and whispering furiously. Owen doesn’t react or try to say anything to her. He simply takes a seat at an empty bench, Mason sitting beside him, and waits to be called into the courtroom.
“Owen,” a woman’s voice says. He looks up to find the face of his own lawyer, Lucy, smiling at him. He returns the smile, standing and shaking her hand when she approaches. Mason does the same, and she takes a seat on Owen’s other side.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, placing an empathetic hand on his forearm.
“I’m all right,” he murmurs, shrugging.
“Good. And Mason? Are you ready?”
He nods. “Ready and prepared for duty, ma’am.”
Lucy nods, flicking through a folder in her lap. “Good, good. Remember, just stay calm, both of you. You have nothing to hide, nothing to worry about. It’s Jenna that’s in the wrong, not you. So, stay calm and firm in your answers, in your assertion that you love your girls, and your guarantee that seeing Mason has not jeopardized their well-being in the slightest, and everything should go smoothly.”
They wait quietly after this, Owen wringing his hands in his lap and Mason keeping a steady hand on his arm.
“Owen Bauer and Jenna Hannigan?” a man asks from the doorway of the courtroom.
They both stand abruptly. “Yes,” they answer simultaneously. Jenna shoots him an annoyed glare from the corner of her eye.
The man nods. “They’re ready for you. This way.”
Owen swallows hard, grasping Mason’s hand and squeezing it tightly before following the man into the courtroom.
As he walks in, Owen can’t help but notice the similarities between this room and the auditorium that his church’s sermons are held in. Different, obviously, but eerily similar. The rows of benches behind the two desks appear as pews, and the judge’s podium could have easily held a choir and Pastor Joseph. A little of Owen’s anxiety falls away as he pictures the congregation here, and he senses God in the room and takes comfort in that.
Lord, please help me. I can’t lose my girls. Please.
He takes a seat at the table Lucy sits at. Glancing around, he sees Mason sitting a row behind him. Today, he’s alone, the lone supporter in this case. Tomorrow will be different. Witnesses will be asked to testify on either his or Jenna’s behalf. The day after, his daughter’s testimonies will be viewed and a decision will be made, and his stomach twists at the thought. But, for now, Mason is alone in the sea of benches.
He smiles at Owen, giving him a concerned and supportive look. Owen tries to smile back, but his lips barely twitch before he turns to face the podium.
“All rise for the honorable Judge Lucas,” a man says. Everyone stands as a woman walks in, garbed in robes, and all sit as she does. She adjusts her glasses and glances at some papers before turning her attention to the people in the courtroom.
“Before we begin, I want to give you both a chance to stop all this and continue on with shared custody. These cases are never pretty and tend to do more damage than good to the children involved. You will not be able to revert to shared custody. One of you will definitively hold sole custody of all three girls. So, do you still want to continue?”
Before Owen can open his mouth or even figure out how to respond, Jenna answers. “Yes,” she snaps, her voice cold and hard.
The judge sighs. “Very well. Mr. Malone, your opening statement, please.”
Jenna’s lawyer stands, adjusting his jacket as he does. “Your Honor, we’re here today because Ms. Hannigan has reason to believe that her children’s father is no longer fit to raise them. They have spent years in harmony, sharing custody of the children and running into very few problems along the way, and she does not deny that. Until recently, he has been a great father to them. However, recent events concern her and give us reason to ask whether this still holds true or not. He has behaved impulsively and without morals, and Ms. Hannigan believes that her children are no longer safe when they are in the custody of Mr. Bauer.”
Malone sits down, ending his statement. Heat brews in Owen’s stomach. Dangerous? She thinks that he’s a danger to his own children? Just for dating a man? He fumes and tries to calm himself. Being angry won’t help him any, it will only make him sound as impulsive and dangerous as Jenna is making him seem.
“Ms. Ling, your opening statement,” the judge says, turning her gaze toward Lucy.
Lucy stands, patting Owen’s hand as she does. She steps in front of the table, pacing slowly between the tables and the podium. “Your Honor, my client is of no danger to his children. He has simply made a decision in his personal life that Ms. Hannigan does not agree with. This in no way renders him incapable or unsuitable to parent his own children. If anyone is a danger to the children, it’s Ms. Hannigan for dragging them through this process and wanting to tear them away from their father, all for making a life choice that is not dangerous, is none of her business, and that the children all have no issue with. Mr. Bauer is an extremely fit parent, and should be granted full custody of his daughters.”
Lucy struts back to her seat, sitting primly and with a straight back.
“All right,” the judge murmurs. “Mr. Malone, you’re up.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” He stands and motions to Jenna. “The court calls Ms. Jenna Hannigan to the stands.”
Jenna stands and walks, meekly, to the stand. She’s sworn in, and her lawyer begins to question her. He starts with simple questions, asking her about her job, her love for her children, and moves on to asking her about the recent situation.
“Ms. Hannigan, you and your husband have been divorced for how long?”
“Over three years,” she replies quietly.
“What was the reason for your divorce?”
“We fell out of love. It wasn’t fair to either of us, and it was better for the girls if we weren’t always angry at each other.”
Bullshit, Owen thinks. It was a half-truth. What she said wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the entirety of the truth, either. He glares at her, daring her to tell the judge what had actually happened.
“What was Mr. Bauer like as a father, both before and after the divorce?”
“He was a great father. He adores his girls. He’s always been there for them, always had their best interests in mind, and I’m sure that he still loves them.”
“And now? How does Mr. Bauer measure up as a father now?”
Jenna inhales deeply and her eyes fill with tears. “I’m not sure, now. Like I said, I’m sure he loves them, they’re so important to him. But I’m not comfortable with the way he’s been acting lately.”
“Why is that, Ms. Hannigan?”
She bites her lip. “Recently, he… he’s been seeing a man. Romantically.”
“That in itself isn’t a crime, Ms. Hannigan.”
“Yes, I know. But he’s never done anything like this before, sleeping with random people, and men no less. He’s always been a devout, God-fearing man, never one to stir the pot, and for him to be doing something that’s so out of character and against God’s will is unsettling.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“It explicitly says in the Bible that homosexuality is a sin, and Owen knows this, believed this for his entire life. Leviticus states that ‘Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination,’ and also that ‘If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them’. For Owen—who has read the Bible backward and forward, who has never so much as stolen a paperclip from his office—to so blatantly disregard his faith is terrifying for me.”
“Why would that terrify you?”
Jenna hiccups, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Owen tries not to roll his eyes. Though prone to bouts of anxiety, Jenna had never been o
ne for crying, and he is almost certain that the tears now are fake. “If he’s broken his covenant with God in such a huge and unforgiveable way, what else has he done? What else will he do? I’m terrified that this decision and any others that he makes will adversely affect our daughters’ upbringing.”
“Thank you, Ms. Hannigan.” Malone turns to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
She nods. “Ms. Ling, you’re up.”
Lucy stands and resumes her slow and easy pacing in front of the stands. “Ms. Hannigan, you stated earlier that Mr. Bauer was sleeping with random people, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware that Mr. Bauer has, in fact, only been on a handful of dates and been romantically involved with only one person since your divorce?”
Jenna pauses. “I wasn’t aware of that, no.”
Lucy nods. “Yes, Mr. Bauer has only been with Mr. O’Connor in the last three years, both physically and romantically. I wouldn’t classify that as ‘sleeping with random people’, Ms. Hannigan. Would you?”
“I suppose not,” Jenna answers through gritted teeth.
“But as for yourself, Ms. Hannigan, you’ve dated many men since the divorce, yes?”
“I wouldn’t say many.”
“How many over the last three years, exactly?”
Jenna pauses. “Maybe…ten, or so.”
“Is it ten? Or more than ten?”
“Ten.”
“Is that number the amount of men you’ve had a relationship with, or men you’ve been on dates with?”
Again, Jenna is quiet for a moment. “Relationship,” she murmurs.
“So, it’s safe to assume you’ve been on more dates than that, then? Perhaps double? Triple?”