He sighed heavily. “One day, your grandfather caught him staring at a farmer’s worker. He beat him so badly that evening in the barn, I'll never forget it. I knew Ahmet loved that boy. Now, I don’t know whether that boy loved him or even knew about Ahmet’s inclination, but whatever happened that night, we woke up with my brother’s dead body... He hung himself in the barn.”
Ercan didn't realize he was as tearful as his father. His Elif was crying softly beside him too.
“Son, my father never got over his guilt or his sorrow at the way things turned out. I promised myself and your grandmother that I'd never judge my own flesh and blood. Son, times are changing and even I, as an old man can see that…why can’t you? You're living in Australia where people are more tolerant, so what’s your problem? That son of yours is never going to live in Turkey, so if God's willing, he'll never experience what my brother did. I miss my brother, Ercan. Won’t you miss your son? What if he loses his hope? How will you feel?”
Listening to his father, Ercan felt more choked up. He didn't know what to say to his father. He imagined how he'd feel if anything happened to his Ilhan. He'd never thought of those awful possibilities.
“Son, what’s it to you who your son sleeps with? Let God judge him just like he will judge us all. Your job is to bring him up and be a good father… You rejecting him will not change anything but could make things worse. Respect your son and welcome this man of his, so you don’t lose him. I personally like the man. Elif, what do you think of him?” He watched Ercan turn to his wife to hear her response.
“Baba, the boy is respectful and works very hard. He's an orphan so I think he did very well in life. He loves my son and treats me as if I am his mum. Who knows, maybe they will adopt a child one day and give us a grandchild. I see in the newspaper, that same sex couples often adopt or use other methods to have children,” Elif spoke with full conviction which made Ercan proud of her.
“Ercan, we have only one child. If you welcome him, you will have two sons to be proud of.” Elif hesitantly turned to him and spoke to him with her eyes wide open, looking beseechingly at him.
“Okay, father… I'm sorry about Uncle Ahmet. I did not know,” he said sadly, visualizing this young man choosing to take his life when he thought there was no hope for him.
“Elif, call them here, wife…and I forgive you for leaving me.” Ercan felt very gracious with his speech until his father slapped his head hard.
“Insolent brat. You know she did not leave you. So get off your high horse.” His father growled at him.
Ercan had never felt this humiliated, but accepted that his father was right. “Sorry, wife. Father is right,” he said gently to Elif.
Elif nodded and gave him a sunny smile. Then she went to the phone to call their son and his boyfriend.
When the knock came on the door, Ercan stopped Elif and opened the door. He saw his son looking unsure and pale. But the man who stood beside him look determined, and stood in front of his son protectively. He sighed, knowing full well that his previous behavior was why the pair were behaving this way.
“Come in, Ilhan… John,” he invited the young lovers. As he thought of them as lovers, he almost cringed. This was so new to him. I shall do whatever is necessary.
As they walked into the lounge they both kissed his father’s hand and hugged his Elif.
There was nowhere for them to sit because the flat was never meant for bigger numbers. As Ilhan sat on the floor with his legs crossed in traditional Turkish style, he watched John follow his son’s steps, which brought a small smile to his face.
“Do you love my son, John?” he asked with authority.
“Yes, sir. I do,” John answered clearly.
“What about you, Ilhan? Do you love this man?” he asked his son who shook a little.
“Yes, baba, I do,” Ilhan answered hoarsely. Ercan looked at them both for a while, noticing small things. John sat closer to his son touching him with his pinky finger as if no one saw that physical touch for comfort. Ilhan had brought his foot closer to feel John’s little finger. He felt bad for making this pair so shaken up and hurt.
“I would be a small man if I did not own up to my error. I’m sorry for the way I reacted when I saw you two hugging, Ilhan… John. I hope we can repair everything and start over.” He felt his eyes getting teary. His Ilhan suddenly stood up and threw himself in to his arms sobbing. Ercan hugged him tightly.
“Ah, aslanim—my lion. I‘m sorry for hurting you. I was shocked and did not know how to react. Your dede is right. You are my only son and I don’t want to lose you. Both your dede and mum approve of your man, so I welcome him into the family too, okay?” Ercan gave John an appealing look. When John smiled and nodded at him, he felt relieved.
“My children, did you really need me to come all the way here to speak? He tsked. “Elif, I’m parched, daughter. How about you make us tea?” Ercan's father chortled.
Elif laughed as she wiped her tears, “Tamam, baba, I’ll make the tea and bring börek for us all.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - John
Life is so different with them. John was marvelling at the Turkish custom and friendliness once peace was made. They spent the whole evening together until midnight. Ercan booked a room at a hotel earlier and John dropped them at the hotel. Ercan and Elif had kissed him on the cheek. Everyone agreed that Dede was better off staying at the flat upstairs.
When John and Ilhan came back to their apartment, it was close to one o’clock in the morning.
“Fuck, I'm drained,” John muttered as he dried Ilhan, who was shivering after their shower. He pushed him toward the bed. “Go. Hop into bed. I’ll bring your socks,” he said as he dried himself. He almost laughed at the way Ilhan threw himself into bed. He went to the drawer and got a pair of red fluffy socks for Ilhan and put them on his chilly feet. When he got into the bed, Ilhan was already threatening him.
“Don’t even think about hugging me. First thaw yourself out. I know you're cold cos you took your time getting into bed,” he said tartly.
“Aww… Come on. Where's your compassion, man?” John whined as he slowly edged toward his lover.
“Eekk. Get away! You're as warm as a corpse. Ohmigod! Fuck! Your hands are like ice!” Ilhan said, his voice high-pitched.
“But, love, I missed you. It’s been hours since I hugged you.” John continued to sound as pitiful as possible. He loved playing with Ilhan.
“Oh, all right, just this once. Arrgghh! You're so cold. My nuts must be sitting under my liver to get warm now. Brr...” Ilhan growled, but hugged John tightly.
“Sowwy.” John tried to sound childish, but continued to hug Ilhan.
“Never mind. You're so lucky I adore you.” Ilhan sounded shaky.
John hugged him tighter. “And I adore you, man. You mean the world to me… You gave me a home and a sense of belonging. You know that, don’t you?” John muttered as he rubbed his nose against Ilhan.
“You did the same, John. You are my home,” Ilhan said softly.
They both became quiet. John loved these moments because they were comfortable with the silence which meant they were more settled as a couple. He was wide awake, though, after the energy-draining and highly stressful day. He knew Ilhan was too.
“Are you going to read that steamy story now?” John murmured as he got warm and toasty.
“No…well… Yes, I want to know what happened to Dmitri and Bren,” Ilhan answered in a tone of voice that told John he was warm and content now. He sniffed his man’s scent mixed with coconut. It made his mouth water.
“Go on. Read it out loud, the ‘Own Me’ one, so I can hear too,” he whispered as he rocked his hardening cock against Ilhan’s crack.
“Oh, yeah? How am I going to focus on Brina Brady’s story if you're rubbing yourself against me? Gee... Thanks, I think. You've got me all worked up now so you’d better do something about this hard matter.” Ilhan wondered whether John’s cheesy talk was contagious.
“Oh. Baby. I'm ready to deal with this hard matter.” John growled as he playfully nipped at Ilhan’s neck. It made Ilhan squeal in delight and ticklishness.
EPILOGUE
“Where is my sexy confectioner? Ilhan, baby, you home yet?” John called out as he opened the door.
This was Ilhan’s first day as an apprentice sweet maker at a well-known café, so he'd come home early. He was planning to take Ilhan out for dinner to celebrate his special day. John’s nose flared with the pleasant scent of lavender as he walked into the room slowly.
There were candles around the room, creating sensuous shadows. The softly playing music was different from anything John had ever heard but still similar. Ilhan has been listening to these kinds of songs lately, so he guessed it was either Turkish or Middle Eastern. It sounded so exotic and haunting in its slow rhythm. But, it wasn't the shadows or the music that made John stand still at the entrance to the room, but the way Ilhan was dressed.
He felt his heart beating strongly as his Adam’s apple worked hard to swallow at the first sight of Ilhan, dressed provocatively in black boy shorts with a shimmering cloth tied to his sexy hips. Fuck! The sight of him made his mouth water. Dropping his jacket on the floor, all he wanted was the gorgeous mystical creature standing in front of him. So much glistening skin and all for him, only him.
John’s mouth leaked saliva when he saw how Ilhan’s acutely defined, sinewy back was glittering. His eyes never left Ilhan’s sparkling body. He'd used glitter.
Ilhan slowly turned his head to see where John was.
All John saw was his lover's profile, the subtle but obvious eye makeup. Ilhan gave him a small smile and turned back facing the wall. As the music changed into an almost haunting, sad tune, Ilhan raised his arms and moved his shoulders sensuously. John’s heart slammed against his chest. He stood frozen, and totally forgot about moving. He'd never seen anything so sexy, unique and…only for him.
Ilhan kept his arms up, reminding John of a snake dance he'd once seen on YouTube. Ilhan mesmerized him, moving his hips to rhythm of the music. Fuucckk. That’s so sexy.
When Ilhan turned to face John, the sensuous hip movement reminded him of naughty things he'd love to do to him. His eyes went to his exotic dancer’s face and it took his breath away. Ilhan had used black eyeliner that only intensified his blue eyes. The eye shadow was a darker shade of blue reminding him of that actor from black and white silent movies…you know the one who played The Sheik.
His eyes locked on Ilhan, and he felt tingles in his spine. His eyes never left the dancer who walked toward him. The way his abs trembled and his hip jiggled drew a groan from John. Any professional dancer would turn green with envy at the way he moved his body. John almost snickered at the thought of professional dancers watching his Ilhan with green eyes. He couldn’t shift his gaze from Ilhan, who danced with total grace and sensuality. He touched his groin as the growing heavy sensation became almost too big for his jeans. The way Ilhan danced was nothing less than an art form that was unique and captivating… It had definitely captured John.
“This is from the Ottoman Empire times. Men used to dance because Muslim women weren't allowed to perform on stage… Welcome home, lover,” Ilhan softly spoke as he danced.
He's so alluring, sexy and…wow. I've never seen anything like this before, John thought as he his cock jerked involuntarily.
When the drumbeat changed from slow to fast, Ilhan’s hips vibrated and jiggled faster. John's breath hitched when Ilhan the sexy dancer spun with his arms moving sensuously.
“Oh. Baby. You’re killing me, man,” he growled.
Ilhan leaned forward with his arms as if reaching out to John. His body vibrated in a sensual rhythm, that appeared to be effortless and flowing, He changed his expression, looking almost sad because he couldn’t reach out to John. His spine repeatedly rotated from right to left. As he rolled his shoulders, he slowly bent backward, and John's cock stiffened. When Ilhan stood upright in slow motion, his eyes were locked on John.
He stepped forward to slide his hand down John's chest to his waist. As he skimmed his fingers over his body, Ilhan’s expression changed from sadness to joy. He moved his shoulders as he turned his back to John but remained close to him, swaying his body sideways, as if he was a delicate leaf caught up in a whirlwind. He changed his movement to small hip circles complementing the rhythm of the drums.
Taking a step forward, he moved his hips gently, swaying as if he was drawing number eights, and lowering his body to the floor. He opened his knees as he knelt and slowly bent backward with his arms open. John had to step back to give Ilhan space.
Ilhan bent backward, and his eyes caught John’s. John almost whimpered watching Ilhan’s sinewy body shimmering with glitter. His cock felt like it was strangled in his jeans. His knees suddenly felt too weak to stand and he dropped to his knees, bending over Ilhan’s face.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he growled and held the sexy dancer’s face to kiss him. It was an awkward position, but also very erotic. He nibbled Ilhan’s bottom lip as he dragged his hands from his head to his abdomen, noting and enjoying his lover's contours.
“You take my breath away,” he whispered against plump lips. His boyfriend shuddered with desire, a whimper escaping his lips.
“I can’t believe you're mine. I can’t believe how handsome and beautiful you are. Did I tell you I love you, baby?” John asked as he untied Ilhan’s wrap to sneak his hands inside the cotton boxers.
He knew there would be many more unexpected moments like this from his man who was full of energy, and refreshingly different from your average guy.
“Yeah. I love you too, babe….Now, you’re gonna have your wicked ways with me, cos you got me all horny.” Ilhan waggled his eyebrows as he spoke.
John tilted his head back and laughed. “You’re the sexy genie who came out of the lamp and into my life, you know,” he whispered to Ilhan.
Ilhan took a sharp breath as he reached out to hold John’s face and quipped, “Then rub me and make a wish come true, cos you are stuck with this genie…”
THE END
Other Titles by Lily Adile Lamb
Stay With Me
It has been weeks since Curtis first saw the young waiter with the haunted eyes. No matter how often he went to the café to find the right opportunity to introduce himself, that moment simply did not come that quickly.
Joseph was aware of the gentle giant who quietly came to have his lunch and then left day after day. Fearing his father’s wrath and under his ever watchful eyes, he made no moves nor overtures. Until one day when the other man approaches to him…
Hope can turn to love... interracial love.
Awkward in Love Page 12
