Disclaimer

This story is intended for an adult audience and contains sexually explicit content. If you are under 18 years of age or are offended homosexual erotica, please do not read this story. Likewise, please do not read this story if it violates the laws or regulations applicable to you.

The events and characters depicted in this story are purely fictional, and should not be misconstrued for real life events and characters. Any similarities are purely coincidental.

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A couple of weeks later Trent and I were on our way to Nebraska. I had driven through Nebraska once, but never spent any time there. Despite the misery of traveling on a holiday, I was excited to see Trent's family again. Of course, my own family was holding a grudge, because I usually refused to travel on the holidays, but made an exception this time around. I'd have to smooth that over later.

We arrived and the whole family was there to meet us as we came through the security checkpoint. It was a great welcome and then we headed out to the car. There was, of course, the conversation about how Trent almost ruined Thanksgiving, but we were all soon past that and moving on to my driving tour of Omaha. I'm not sure what I expected, but I was pleasantly surprised by several areas that had some unique historic architecture.

Soon, we were out on a long country road. We turned off, and traveled up a long drive to a sprawling ranch-style house nestled in a stand of trees. The weather had turned cold, and Page's earlier warning of snow was starting to materialize, as large flakes began coating the ground around us. I will say Nebraska was every bit as cold as I expected.

We pulled into the garage, and exited the car, grabbing our luggage and following Page and Dan into the house. As we walked in the first word that popped into my mind was "homey". The house was decorated in an eclectic fashion, but was neat as a pin. Everything seemed to have a place, and the colors and furniture made me instantly forget how cold it was outside.

"I'm going to get the fire going, and you boys put your things in Trent's room.” Dan instructed.

Page was in her element, having all her chicks back in the next, and went into the kitchen to make some homemade hot chocolate. I followed Trent and Sarah down the hallway to Trent's room. As we walked into the room, it was exactly what I might have expected. It looked like a room someone had spent their entire childhood in, redecorating for each new phase he went through, but leaving some remnant of each. There was a teddy bear on a bookshelf. A box of Lincoln Logs on another shelf. Various model cars that were once fantasies of possible first cars. There was an autographed football on a stand on the desk. It was just an eclectic and lived-in room, but what I liked most about it was that it just felt like Trent. Even now, I could sense his presence there. I could smell his scent. There was no single definitive object that made the room Trent's, but rather the sum of all