Ana Armas

Subject: Do As You’re Told – Chapter Nineteen Do As You’re Told Chapter Nineteen: The Question If you need permission to read this story (from a master, husband, partner, lodger, boss, next door neighbour, gardener) please obtain it first. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional. This story is exclusively for entertainment purposes so please enjoy in safe and legal manner. FRIDAY 18TH JANUARY 2019 Robin was finishing his third French fancy and drinking the dregs of his tea as his gran’s. She was affectionately named Bessie due to her resembled the little old lady who personified the famous frozen pudding company. She’d asked him how his exams had gone – only ok, was his estimation. He was glad they were over until May and he had a long weekend off now. Bessie was opening his present and card – it was her sixtieth birthday today. She had plans later – and Robin had a show to perform – with her friends but they had enjoyed family time together, chatting and eating cake and drinking tea. She was a sweet not-so-old lady who doted on him whenever he visited. Many years ago he had wanted to live with her instead of his father – but his dad wouldn’t hear of that and made his opposition patent with bone-breaking clarity. “Oh, thank you sweetie, you didn’t have to do this,” she said as she liberated a box from wrapping paper. “Oh, good lord! Thank you!” Robin beamed, “I hope you like it.” Bessie had developed a recent obsession with crushed ice so he bought her Ninja blender for crushing ice, making smoothies and other blended… things. “Oh, I’m making a mojito later,” Bessie said. “Happy birthday, Bessie,” Robin said as he peeled himself of the sofa and gave her a hug. “You’re a good boy, Robin,” she said. “Now you’re sixty, do you want me to call you granny?” Robin asked cheekily. “You’d better not,” she warned. Then beamed again – realising he was teasing her. “It’s your birthday soon… do you want anything special?” Bessie asked. “I dunno,” Robin answered with a shrug; he’d been building up to asking a question of his own all afternoon. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from mum?” Robin had asked Bessie about his mum after he discovered he had no way whatsoever to contact her, but Bessie had had no contact with her daughter either. He asked if she’d gotten a Christmas card or anything from her over the holidays, again no. Try as he might, Robin found his crushing disappointment in his absentee mother hard to deal with. “No, I’m sorry sweetie,” Bessie replied. “I thought she might get in touch, what with it being a big birthday an’ all,” Robin said. “No.” “Sorry. Crap, I need to get going. I don’t want to be late home,” Robin said, rushing to get ready. “Be careful, son,” she said affectionately. She paused and added thoughtfully; “You know, that father of yours is a damn fool… But my daughter is the biggest fool of them all. You’re a wonderful boy, Robin.” “Happy birthday, granny.” She kissed him for that. Even as Robin pulled on his jacket and made for the door, he knew he was going to miss his bus. He’d just have to hope his dad was already passed out at home. “Thanks again for the ice crusher. I’ll make you a slushy next time you come over,” Bessie called from the front step as Robin closed the garden gate. She watched Robin wave over his shoulder and trot down the street. When she closed the door she leaned against it and let out a long and wretched sigh. She felt sick and tearful for lying to her grandson. Bessie climbed the stairs and knocked on the spare bedroom door which she knew would be locked from the inside. “Kim!” Bessie said curtly. The door opened a second later and her daughter went back to the window for a final hopeful glimpse of her son, even though she knew he was out of sight now. “I lied to that boy,” Bessie said bitterly. “I know, mum,” Kim replied quietly. “He asked if I’d heard from you. He wanted to see you. And you were sat hiding in my spare fucking room!” Bessie said with great frustration. “I came back to see you for your birthday mum, what more do you want from me?” Robin’s mum asked testily. “I want you to take responsibility for him. I want you to protect him,” Bessie said with an air of defeat. “We’ve been through this a million times. My bastard husband used to beat the shit out of me. He tried to kill me, remember?” Kim said as if either of them could forget. “And you left Robin with him,” Bessie said. “If I tried to take Robin with me, that psycho would have hunted me down. He let me go because I let Robin go. It broke my heart. But Robin was a lot safer with his dad than on the run with me and that bastard chasing us,” Kim said, almost shouting. “Well, you haven’t seen the bruises,” Bessie muttered clearly. “Mum! Don’t!” “Robin’s almost as bad at hiding them as you were. He wants someone to help him,” Bessie said. “Then you help him! Oh wait, you expect me to do it! You criticise me for not saving him but when it’s you who’s letting him down, it’s a different story,” Kim needled. “I took Robin in, you cheeky bitch! Your husband broke my arm and threatened to burn down my house! I’m the one who called the social but they couldn’t help because Robin denied anything was wrong. He made a deal with his dad; no more social workers if he left me alone,” Bessie told her daughter. “Fucking useless social workers,” Kim spat. “You can’t blame them. Robin got good at hiding things. Pretended everything was ok. Told them I’d got the wrong end of the stick,” Bessie chastised he daughters disrespect. “Couldn’t be that bad then. He’s obviously ok. He looked ok,” Kim said desperately trying to convince herself. “Robin’s brave. I’m proud of him. But I’ve seen the bruises. I’ve seen him sick as a dog when his dad gives him a jagged little pill to test,” Bessie said with frustration. “Stop trying to guilt me mum.” “He only wanted to see you, dear. That’s all Robin wanted. But you don’t write, you don’t call… and you won’t even see him,” Bessie said with great disappointment. Aunt Bessie hadn’t been lying to Robin when she called her daughter a fool. “Kim, that bastard is getting worse. He’s going to kill that boy!” Bessie said on the verge of tears. “He won’t. No, he won’t,” Kim said – barely convincing herself. Regardless of the spat, they both knew they were impotent to help Robin and Robin would not accept help either. Aunt Bessie knew, even if her daughter didn’t, that Robin’s friend Cameron had offered to take him in too. It wasn’t that Robin was short of offers to help; it wasn’t help he needed. Robin needed someone to save him. MONDAY 21ST JANUARY 2019 There was still half an hour until the registration class and Robin, Adam and Ben were whiling away the time. “What happened to your face?” Micah asked Robin. Robin, Cameron and Ben were all mid-conversation when the question came. Pointlessly, Robin tried to shy away. He had already lied to Ben when they met up on Saturday. He lied again, to Cameron, when they had hung out on Sunday. Micah, a transient member of Robin and Cameron’s friendship group, was definitely not going to be told the truth. “Or good morning, as most people say,” Ben said flippantly. “Good morning. How’d you cut your eyebrow?” asked Micah impertinently. “I stumbled over a rug in my flat. Hit my face on the glass panel in the door,” Robin answered convincingly. Micah seemed to buy it, just as Ben had, and Robin was offered commiseration and a good-natured needling about his clumsiness. Cameron looked less convinced but his best friend never really knew if it was Robin’s dad who had done it or if it was a genuine accident. Cameron always sensed if Robin would tell the real story or not. This was not one of the times when Cameron would be offered a true retelling even if he asked. So he didn’t. The truth was that Robin’s dad had been furious when Robin got home. The old man had been drinking, there was nothing to eat and the flat wasn’t clean enough. “You were over seeing that old bitch, weren’t you?” his dad slurred. Robin knew his dad would remember. Dad remembered dates like that and liked to mark them with a fist or broken glass in Robin’s bed or a test run of Lego (MDMA mixed with other shit that can kill you). Robin’s answers were irrelevant and the conversation ended with his dad shoving him so hard that the right side of his face collided with the glass panel in the living room door. Robin had invested in a first aid kit and his dad – playing the good father – helped him to mop the blood from his temple and apply steristrips. The wound didn’t even need them, it was shallow and would be invisible in a week or two. A few centimetres over and the glass would have been in Robin’s eye – his dad told him he was lucky and managed to make it sound like a threat rather than conciliatory. Robin had made himself scarce for the rest of the night. Luckily at The Fourth nightclub, Teen Titan wore a mask so his injury was hidden. Robin lamented how things between Teen Titan and Adam had been left – Adam didn’t return for his show or the parlour and it caused Robin to feel a little bit empty. The weekend had given time for the shallow cuts, scratches really, to heal but the bruising was only just showing and would remind him he was broken for weeks to come. “Maybe we should hold the doors open for you today,” said Micah sarcastically. They all entered the main building to get out of the cold and looked for somewhere to lurk, hover or otherwise loiter. Robin chuckled which allowed the others to join in but there was little humour in it. “Aren’t scars are supposed to be sexy?” Ben suggested. At that, Robin did smile. Ben was such a sweet wee man and his endearing nature made it hard not to feel warmed by him. Their date on Saturday hadn’t even gone to hand holding – due to Ben’s reservation rather than his own – but they kept making affectionate eyes at each other. “Every cloud has a silver lining,” Robin admitted amiably. Then Robin noticed Adam pass him by and clocking the cuts on his face. “Except a mushroom cloud, which has a lining of iridium and strontium ninety,” Ben joked even though no-one else seemed to get it. Adam carried on by without talking and his friends sneered and sniggered at Robin’s wound. “Who beat you up, Robin? The old lady who sleeps outside Greggs?” Carlos asked with a round of laughs from the rest of the gang. Adam didn’t crack a smile – he also didn’t say anything. “Aw, shit Carlos, did the old lady take your spot?” Arthur asked the bully. That produced even more laughter and this time Adam managed a smile. Carlos made a grudging chuckle. Arthur had a disarming humour and an ability to level the playing field with wit, no matter who was playing. “You’re a cheeky wee bam, Arthur,” Carlos said accepting the mockery and moving on. “Well, guys I got things to do,” announced Micah even though no-one had asked. “Registration starts in a few minutes. Also, What things?” Ben asked out of politeness. “I need to make history…” Micah said enigmatically and then under his breath; “My bitch.” Micah took the green stairs two at a time and pushed through the double doors into the first floor corridor. On his left was the Art department where he’d had so much fun watching Adam Mansouri naked and hard and on display in front of boys who had come to suspect Adam was having a mental breakdown. On the right was the History and Modern Studies department where Micah was about to tackle Mr Jones… Rhys liked to use the twenty or thirty minutes before registration class to get organised for his first class of the day. Micah didn’t even knock when he pushed the ajar door open and said nothing when he closed it. Rhys watched him with silent interest and if there was any recognition or suspicion in his eyes, he didn’t show it. “So, I wondered if we could talk,” Micah said with bravado. Rhys wasn’t really in the mood. He had been making plans with Malcolm who wasn’t making it easy to make plans. Seriously, how hard is it for a guy who is cheating on his boyfriend to make an excuse to get out for the night? They hadn’t fucked since before New Year and Rhys was getting annoyed. Malcolm’s four weeks of fidelity was a problem that Rhys really didn’t need. “If it’s about you exam, I’m not done marking them,” Mr Jones replied snappily. “It’s not about the exam,” Micah said. “Do you like boys, Mr Jones?” There was a glimmer in his eyes that was so fleeting, Micah could not be certain that he didn’t just imagine it. Rhys was just adjusting his brain to deal with an entirely unforeseen development. Another problem he didn’t need. “If you want to discuss sex and sexuality, I suggest you speak to your guidance teacher,” Mr Jones said smoothly. Micah laughed, impressed by the urbane reply. “Should I tell him you’ve been texting me three months too?” Micah asked. Rhys needed time to think but he didn’t have any. He ploughed on with denial. “Micah, what the hell are you talking about?” Mr Jones asked, sounding irritated but he was guarded now too. Rhys was trying desperately to make Micah doubt his clear (and entirely correct) suspicions. Micah paused for a moment: had he got it wrong or was Mr Jones just playing innocent? “I mean in October a mysterious texter called MrEe introduced himself to me. MrEe had some wild ideas and needed my help with something,” Micah explained cautiously just in case he was wrong. “And I’ve been more than happy to help. Just imagine my surprise when I realised it was you?” Rhys sniggered and smiled indulgently at Micah. “I don’t know who you think I am…” Mr Jones started to say. “You’ve confiscated my phone a few times for having it out in class. I guess that’s how you got my number. I’d also guess is there’s an audit trail between you and the phone MrEe has been texting me with. If I’m wrong the police will be knocking on someone else’s door,” Micah threatened. “There’s no electronic trail, Micah. Are you suggesting some kind of crime has been committed?” Mr Jones asked with concern. “Oh, you’re good,” Micah congratulated. “Say it again. That was worthy of an Oscar.” “That’s enough Micah,” Mr Jones said in a classic teacher tone. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it as I’m sure you have,” Micah added. “If you’re not going to explain what this is really about…” Mr Jones started to say. “Or maybe I’ll skip the police. Adam’s dad is loaded. I wonder if he knows someone who could find out who’s been setting me tasks to humiliate his son?” Micah asked. At last Mr Jones did stop. His expression went from butter-wouldn’t-melt innocence to throttle-until-dead angry; in the end it settled on relief mixed with impressed. “You cocky little bastard.” Micah swaggered back to the door and turned the tumbler to lock it. He grinned back at Mr Jones and swaggered back like a rooster with an itch. Rhys was watching him blandly, his expression betraying nothing, but his eyes were calculating every variable. Micah returned to stand directly in front of Mr Jones and then put out his hand and traced lazy fingers up and down the teacher’s thigh. “So, what are we going to do, Mr Jones?” Micah asked with sultry undertone. Mr Jones moved faster than Micah expected, suddenly grabbing the boys wrist; not hard, but not gently either, and pushing it away with unequivocal rejection. “You’re going to keep your hands off me,” Mr Jones warned. “Let’s not pretend you’re in any position to…” Micah started to say. “Neither are you,” the teacher interrupted. “You participated in blackmail. What you did to Adam would be classified as sexual assault and your seventeen so saying a bigger boy made you do it isn’t going to fly.” “And you’re a teacher manipulating a seventeen year old high school boy, blackmailing another boy and accumulating sexually explicit images of him,” Micah countered. “Looks like we have a stalemate,” Mr Jones said. He stood up and pushed past Micah and then extended his arm to point at the door, “You can go now.” This time it was Micah who moved too fast, pushing Mr Jones against the whiteboard and pressing himself against the man. Micah grinded his hips and pushed his hard dick against Mr Jones’ groin. “Oh, you’re not soft,” Micah teased. Micah’s hand got between them and gave Mr Jones’ cock a squeeze. “And I’m also not hard,” Mr Jones countered. escort bayan It took every ounce of Rhys’ self-control 1) not to get hard and 2) not to take control. Rhys liked control – he sacrificed it only when doing so was an advantage. He took turns at being in control when he was fucking Malcolm – although the fact he was fucking another man’s boyfriend always gave him a semblance of control. Right now he refrained because he still needed Micah as Adam’s handler – so to speak – and because allowing the boy to think he had control was just another manipulation. Micah’s illusion of control was just another part of Rhys’ toolkit. Micah kissed the teacher, who gave away very little in the way of tongue; Micah got bored before Rhys got turned on so the boy gave up. “How old are you sir?” Micah asked. “Twenty-six,” he replied. “You look good,” Micah returned as if it was surprising to find an attractive twenty-six year old. Micah was rubbing his trousers and slowly lowered his zipper and opened his trousers; Rhys briefly dropped his eyes at the sound of the descending zipper but then returned them to the boys face. Rhys supposed, if he had a gun to his head, he had to admit Micah was pretty and good looking. Thin, brown-skinned and dark features; his youthful good looks were rooted in the fact he was just a teenager. “If I told you to get on your knees…” Micah started to ask. “I’d rather be a big hairy guy’s bitch in prison,” Mr Jones replied. Micah smiled at the image. It wasn’t true though – if push came to shove Rhys would absolutely suck off the seventeen year old. But Micah didn’t know that, but it was all part of Rhys’ calculation to trust the boy would believe him. Micah was weaving his own power play and was just as willing to lie – to save face and to assert dominance. Rhys didn’t look down but he could tell – sense, smell and detect from the motion of the boys arms – that Micah had pulled his cock out. “Oh, I don’t want you to suck me,” Micah insisted. He opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. “I want you to watch.” There was only fifteen minutes before Rhys’ registration class turned up – plenty of time for a horny teen to jerk off. Micah was already hard and smiled as he caught Mr Jones unable to stop himself looking. Micah knew he didn’t have the biggest dick in the world but the very fact he could make a man look at his boycock was exhilarating. Micah’s cock and balls were out, his trousers open and his underwear hitched under his scrotum. He rubbed his dick with one hand and his balls with the other. When he’d walked into Mr Jones’ room, Micah had been cocky – too over-confident in fact. But he was able to think on his feet and, realising he would be unable to wrestle control from Mr Jones, he was willing to settle for something else. The sound of Micah pumping his cock was really rather oddly seductive. Rhys would have rather been watching Malcolm beating his fat black cock but watching Micah was entertaining enough. Micah was getting closer to orgasm and Rhys was still looking at the boy’s pumping penis. He wasn’t into school boys per se but there was something interesting in watching just about anyone masturbate. The boy was enthusiastic; the little dark bush of pubes sprouting around his cock was set against the whiteness of his shirt. The scrotum suspended below his average-sized dick contained two little eggs that Rhys would have actually quite liked to suckle. Rhys reached forward and lifted the bottom of Micah’s shirt, peeking at the teenagers’ abdomen – smooth and brown with the gentle curve incumbent in slim boys. His belly button was good enough to play with but Rhys didn’t touch, he let go of the shirt and it fell back to just above the jerking penis. “Keep watching,” Micah warned; “Watch me cum, Mr Jones.” Rhys watched the teenager cum. Micah’s dick spurted hot cum onto the floor between them – the jerking session hadn’t built up much force. Rhys was wondered if Micah had intended to shoot cum on him, but closest it got was a splash of spunk in front of his shoe. “I just wanted you to watch,” Micah said breathlessly. “And now?” Rhys asked. “And now you’re done looking at a teenage boy’s cock, why don’t you tell me why you’re so interested in Adam?” Micah asked. “No.” “No?” “No.” Micah was thrown by the flat and unqualified refusal. “What do you mean, no?” Micah asked stupidly. “I mean… I’m not going to tell you why I’m doing this to Adam,” Rhys said as if talking to a stupid person. “You can continue to play your part or opt out, it’s up to you,” he added. Micah was annoyed – he had walked in here with information that could ruin the teacher and what happened? Nothing! Micah knew he couldn’t ruin Mr Jones without implicating himself and there was a far more persuading reason… he didn’t want to ruin Mr Jones. The fact he was a good teacher and besides, Micah was happy to continue screwing with Adam. That would never get old, would it? “I’ll play my part,” Micah answered. “But there is another thing.” “What?” Mr Jones asked, pretending to be bored now. Micah flashed out his hand and gripped Mr Jones’ groin, the erection inside was very pleasing and they both knew the cause was the show he’d just put on. “You’re hard now,” Micah said triumphantly. Rhys patiently removed Micah’s hand from his erection and returned to his desk. “If you want to make yourself useful, you can help think of fun activities for Adam. Now get out,” said Mr Jones. “You think you can just boss me around?” Micah asked rhetorically. Mr Jones sneered in return and Micah returned the wicked smile. “Do as you’re told,” they both said at the same time. Rhys was starting to consider the problem that Micah might present to him – he’d have to contemplate what to do about him. Micah gave a jaunty and sarcastic salute, cast a look at the blobs of sperm he’d left deposited on the classroom floor and headed for the door. Micah figured he’d have time to wash his hands before his first class so exited the classroom and left it ajar, just as he had found it. Walking into that room, Micah almost thought it would be easy but Rhys was more difficult than he’d expected… it was quite exciting really. MEANWHILE Robin was urinating when Adam sidled up to him. “What happened to your face?” Adam demanded with whispered urgency. “Nothing. My living room door won an argument,” Robin replied – also in a whisper. Robin caught Adam sneaking a peek before he could put his penis away. “Is that the truth?” Adam asked – still whispering. “Why are we whispering?” Robin asked – also still whispering. They were in the boys toilets at the first interval and it was unoccupied except for them. “I thought there might be someone else here?” Adam asked. Adam was still whispering because he still didn’t know is discretion was in order. “We’re alone in here,” Robin said – barely audibly, virtually just mouthing the words. “Now you’re just taking the piss,” Adam chastised with a laugh. Robin grinned at Adam – almost forgetting himself – washed his hands at a sink and then pulled paper towels from the dispenser to dry them. Robin had to remind himself that things with Adam were complicated now. They weren’t friends; at The Fourth, at school or after school either. They had built a rapport and relationship at the gay nightclub and although Robin still worked there, he wasn’t sure Adam would continue to frequent given the change in their dynamic. A moments silence had passed and Robin was returned to the room by a friendly hand on his arm. “What happened to your face, really?” Adam asked with emphasis on the last word. “It doesn’t matter,” Robin said despondently. “It matters to me,” Adam said. “Why? We’re not… you-and-me… we’re a not-you-and-me…” Robin said clumsily. “I don’t care about that,” Adam said. He was lying, he did care about you-and-me but it was a separate issue from this. “What I care about is proving myself to you, remember? To show you who I really am. And I don’t mean that in a selfish, it’s all about me, kind of way,” Adam insisted; “I mean, you look like you need someone to save you and I want to help… You look like someone beat you up.” “You should see the other door,” Robin said humourlessly. “I’d help you in a heartbeat, Robin. Not because I want you,” although Adam did; “But because it’s the right thing to do.” “You can’t help me with this,” Robin said miserably. “No-one can. People have tried. My mum, I guess. My granny Bessie, definitely. Even Cameron… no-one can help me.” Robin really believed it too. He’d given up hope. He was defeated. “Did your dad do this?” Adam asked. He put the all the pieces together – the family and friends who had tried to help and the one person missing from the list. “Adam, please stop,” Robin pleased. “No,” Adam said quietly; “You don’t want help, fine. Help is when you support someone to make things easier. I’m going to save you.” “Adam,” Robin chuckled at the melodrama of the statement. Robin wasn’t mocking Adam’s sentiment, nor was he ungrateful – he simply didn’t believe it possible. Robin thought it was an endearingly sweet gesture. “Your dad did this,” Adam said – laying a finger on the gash to Robin’s forehead. “If it was as easy as walking out, you would have. If it was as easy as that, you wouldn’t have not seen your mum for years or you granny would have taken you in or Cameron would have taken you…” Adam said. Robin had to admit, Adam had gained a remarkably swift grasp of the problem. “I’ll talk to my dad,” Adam added. “He said he’d help me… when I was ready to tell him,” Robin said quietly. Robin hadn’t met Adam’s eyes for several minutes – he was too embarrassed by his predicament. “The time is now,” Adam told him. Adam’s hand cupped Robin’s chin and lifted his gaze. There was no shame in needing help. “The time is now,” Robin repeated. Any other arrangements would require a longer conversation than could be managed in fifteen minutes in a boy’s toilet. They both knew an intermission in the conversation was necessary. “You’re taking forever, Adam. Are you doing a poo ’cause I thought you just needed to tinkle…” Arthur was joking as he entered the toilets. He spotted Adam drop his hand from Robin’s chin. The gesture was gone so fast, most people wouldn’t have noticed and Adam covered it by treating Arthur like he was most people. Robin just turned way and washed his hands again to give himself something to do. “Sorry, Art. I was just washing my hands after a… I’m not calling it a tinkle,” Adam returned the joke. He hadn’t actually peed, which was annoying because he still needed to go. “Oh, I was always taught not to piss on my hands,” Arthur jested. “Yea, you’re really suave,” Adam said sarcastically. “Yes, I am suave,” insisted Arthur. “You’ve got caramel on your chin,” Adam pointed out. Arthur wiped the remains of his Mars bar from his chin with nonchalance “I was saving it for later,” bemoaned Arthur. The two laughing boys left Robin alone. Robin didn’t feel alone though. For the first time in a long time he had hope. Hope he could escape his bastard father and stop being scared to go home. Robin had hope but he knew it wouldn’t be easy and he was going to have to be brave. Vincent – Mr Wilson – had been given homework to do by Cameron. At first the teacher had thought his young lover was joking but he soon realised that Cameron was quite serious. Cameron suggested that Vincent write him a story; it wasn’t homework in the sense that Cameron was going to check the spelling and punctuation – Cameron had entirely different criteria by which Vincent’s work would be graded. Cameron told him the story had to make him cum. Perhaps if Charlie hadn’t been on his mind so much recently, Vincent wouldn’t have thought of writing about him. As it was, Charlie featured heavily but it was a good story… THE SCOTSMAN WHO WENT UP A HILL AND CAME OVER A MOUNTAIN CLIMBER It was summer 2010 and I had just left high school. I was still totally crushing on my best friend Charlie and hadn’t even realised that Jake liked me yet. I would be starting University in a few months but my friends and I spent most of the summer messing about. It was a glorious morning in June when Charlie gave me a call and asked if I wanted to go hill walking. I think it was in one of the national parks, but maybe that was a different day. I don’t really remember if it was a walk in the park. Figuratively it certainly wasn’t. The temperature was expected to go above twenty degrees – taps aff weather – so I would have rather sat in the garden, but Charlie was persistent. Jake was on holiday with his family in Benidorm and the other boys in our regular group of friends all had summer jobs so it was just me and Charlie, which suited me. I should point out that I look back now and wonder what it was that I liked so much about Charlie. I suppose he was good looking, charismatic and he was the linchpin/ figurehead/ top banana in our group of friends. He also had a nice dick and we fooled around, cuddled, kissed sometimes; we were never “together” but I wanted to be. I was just too scared to ask my friend out and I kept hoping he would ask me. Anyway, it should come as no surprise that Charlie got his way and I abandoned my plan to sunbathe in the back garden in favour of walking up a hill. I was into wearing briefs at the time because I was seventeen and I liked the way they made my thighs look more muscular and my legs longer. My inner thighs were smooth and hairless and I liked the way briefs made my penis look bigger because they bulged nicely whenever I wore them. I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt and put a hoodie in by backpack in case it got cool later in the day. My hair seemed to have lightened that summer because usually it was a sandy brown but that year the sun had bleached it almost blonde. I used a little bit of product in my hair so it had a quiff and personally, I thought I looked amazing. Finally, I pulled on trainers and raced out the door. Twenty minutes later and I was at Charlie’s house. His sister let me in because he was still in the shower, which gave me a bit of a flutter, and I went to his room to wait. When Charlie came into his bedroom he was only wearing a towel. He was a bit taller than me and not as skinny – his abs were hiding little bit – but I thought he looked great. I liked his pink nipples and his pale skin – he never did tan very well. The fair hair on his legs were still damp from the shower – personally I always thought they looked best when they were behind his head but I didn’t get that view as often as I would have liked. Charlie closed his bedroom door while he got dressed but he didn’t mind me staying. He turned his back when he dropped the towel and I got to look at his bubble bum. He grinned over his shoulder when he caught me looking and then he stepped into a pair of loose fitting boxers and turned back to me. I could see his penis was chubby but it remained hidden from me and when Charlie pulled on a pair of cargo shorts, I felt a little bit disappointed. I guess I hoped Charlie would want to fool around – as it turned out, he did. Charlie had passed his driving test – the first one in out group who had. He couldn’t afford a car but his sister grudgingly let him use hers. Charlie was also the first one in the group to turn eighteen and he acted like a bit of a peacock about it. Charlie had put the windows down while he drove so a warm wind could blow in and not cool us down. His hair was spiky and bent like wheat in the air that rushed though the car. I hadn’t asked where we were going, it was just cool to be with my friend and on the move. We had the radio on and that summer the soundtrack included: Alejandro, Hey Soul Sister and California Gurls. Forty minutes later, Charlie pulled into a car park and we started walking; wherever we were, there was a lake or a pond nearby. I remember skirting the path that would have taken us to the lake and instead starting an uphill trek. I say uphill but it could have been a mountain for all I know. Despite the glorious weather, we didn’t see that many people. I guessed people would rather be chilling out in gardens, beside pools – or lakes or on a beach – or sitting in the shade sipping beer. I guessed that, because that is what I would rather have been doing. I was sweaty everywhere by the kocaeli escort bayan time we’d been climbing for twenty minutes and I’d already finished one bottle of water. I was melting, so Charlie suggested I take off my t-shirt. To say this was the beginning of a slippery slope (since I’m halfway up a hill/mountain) would be a cringe worthy pun… which I’m quite happy about. I was a shy boy really and didn’t often show much skin in public – unless compelled to do so by outside forces. I told you how Charlie got me naked and then epilated in the school showers? Well, Charlie liked that sort of thing. He didn’t stop talking about it for weeks after it happened – I thought the chat was starting to piss off Jake but I didn’t understand why since I was the one who had been humiliated. The thing was – I liked it. I had liked being caught naked. I liked having my hair removed. I liked the smirks on the boy’s faces. I liked sucking them all off after it. My memory of that shower incident serves to remind you that I had indulged a little in submission before and I was open to it in a way I had never expected. The reason being, I liked to obey. My dalliance with Charlie was predicated on obedience and submission. Jake was never like that – he wasn’t the dominant type – and I never had a relationship like him before or since. I wonder sometimes if the reason I was open to submission was because I had a crush on Charlie and he was the one giving the orders. I wanted to make him happy so I did what he asked but I don’t think it was just that. I got a kick out of the humiliation and Charlie was about to test if it was a one-off predilection or a recurring phenomena. I took off my t-shit and stuffed it in my backpack. The straps of my bag against my bare skin made me feel more naked but really it wasn’t a big deal. You don’t see a shirtless guy in summer when the sun is blazing and think, “huh, that’s weird.” I guess I felt self-conscious about it because I was so self-conscious about my body. I was just a shirtless teenager walking up a hill beside his best friend who suggested I also take off my shorts. At first I thought Charlie was joking but he insisted that it really was too hot for shorts and weren’t they chaffing and wouldn’t it be great to get a tan on my thighs too? I told him I would take mine off if he took his off too but he was blunt and to the point: “No.” The control was very much in his hands and I was slow to realise he knew I’d gotten a kick out of the shower thing. He also knew that I liked fooling around with him. I mean we both got hard and we both liked to cum. I think Charlie just assumed I was like him, that the dalliance went as far as physical pleasure but that was all. If I’m sure of anything it is that my feelings for him were one sided. But that just made me want him more. I wanted to impress him and seduce him and pleasure him. So I took off my shorts. We were half way up a hill in broad daylight in a public place and I was in my underwear. It was a bit of a thrill to be walking out in the open only wearing my briefs and a pair of trainers – unless you count the backpack on my back as an item of clothing. My legs felt hot in the summer sun and my chest had started to form beads of sweat that I could feel tinkling down my chest. Beads of sweat tickled the back of my legs too, diverting over the back of my knee and down the back of my calf. We had only passed a few people in over half an hour of walking – only one couple in the time since my shorts had come off. It was a pair of attractive guys in their twenties and I wondered if they were a couple but they might have just been friends. All I know is they checked me out – either because they liked what they saw in a gay way or because they thought I was a total freak to be walking around in my pants in public. After they passed, I wanted to get dressed again but Charlie said “no” and I wanted to please him. He asked to see my bag so he could take a drink of water and once he’s had a swig, he held onto my bag. Now I was walking with nothing but my trainers and my briefs. I can’t explain why the loss of my backpack made a difference; maybe because while I had still been holding onto it, I knew I could get dressed anytime. With the bag, I knew my back was covered so anyone coming up behind us might not immediately notice I was barely dressed. With the bag I could take it off and put it in front of my crotch if push came to shove. But now Charlie had it and I felt like a fool walking up a hill in just a pair of briefs. Charlie figured that if I already felt like a dafty then I should just take the briefs off too… so I took the briefs off too. You might be asking yourself, “Why did you do that?” Well, it’s because I’m an idiot. I have to admit, the second my briefs bundled around my ankles, I got an instant boner. I untangled my feet and stuffed the briefs in my bag, which was still on Charlie’s back. Charlie looked at me with a big grin that made me blush and proud at the same time. My penis took a while to go down and in the meantime, we continued up hill. I kept expecting Charlie to make more of my predicament but out chat remained as routine as always. Up ahead there were two paths, one was grassy and wanted wear and the other bent through the undergrowth, protected by a canopy of leaves from the trees on either side. Under the line of trees was worse than the climb we had endured so far. It was humid and clammy and moist and although the oppressive sun broke though only occasionally, it was muggy under the trees. I dived into the tree line several times to avoid walkers coming back down the hill. On more than one occasion I was too late and someone rounded the corner to see me balls-out naked. The only consolation was that in the hot weather my penis was not small – it was about as well-presented as one could hope for. My penis was plump, my testes dangling in flaunting way while swinging from left to right and the sheen of sweat from the hot climb made me look amazing! Or so Charlie told me and I was wont to believe him. It was only when we got to the top of the hill that we a cairn had been erected – whether this was of long-standing archaeological significance or a piece or tourist-bait I don’t know but I can’t even remember where we were. What I do know is that the oppressive temperatures had kept people away so Charlie and I had the top of the hill to ourselves. The view was really something: blue skies with only the odd fluffy white cloud, green grass and emerald firmament for as far as the eye could see. Charlie said I added to the scenery and suggested I became a permanent addition. He grabbed my ass as we kissed and I felt blood rushing from my brain to my penis. I liked kissing Charlie and he smiled when I opened my eyes and I realised they had been closed – he seemed to find it amusing that I had been so lost in the kiss. In a blur we were suddenly sexualised in that hasty way only teenage boys can be. Charlie was pushing down his cargo shorts and searching his bag for a box of condoms that he “happened to bring along.” It was then that I saw Bill – the mountain climber in the title… Let me describe Bill. I’d guess he was about twenty-one years old but it was hard to be certain. He was the tallest guy I’d ever seen – six foot four – and he had a beard and dark hair that had been swept backwards. He was broad-chested and his arms and legs were like tree trunks. His muscles had muscles but for all that, when he spoke, we instantly knew he was “one of us.” If you were ever looking to remake Brokeback Mountain with lumberjacks instead of cowboys, Bill would have been your man. His voice revealed an American accent and it was deep but soft, his chuckle throaty but too close to being a giggle. When Bill saw me naked and Charlie with his shorts down and his boxers tenting, Bill made a joke about camping under the tent. Charlie, ever the charismatic chancer asked if Bill wanted to join us. Bill actually thought about it but instead asked if he could watch. We all waited to see if the others were serious – did we really plan to fuck outdoors, did he really plan to watch? Bill waited for both of us to agree before sitting on a fallen log and watching me bend over. I’ll confess that this was not the first time I’d had sex outside but it was the first time in broad daylight out in an open space that anyone might walk into at any moment and with someone watching. I was bent over and facing Bill with Charlie behind me and also facing Bill. I thought Charlie was getting off easy – no pun intended; Bill couldn’t see Charlie’s cock but he could see mine. Bill could see my chest, nipples, legs and face contorted in sweet romance. Charlie really got off on pushing his cock in while looking over me at Bill. I was a bit jealous that Bill was taking the attention from me, which I hope isn’t selfish – I just wanted Charlie to concentrate on me while he fucked me. Charlie and I made grunts and moans; he because of the sensations of my sphincter gripping the shaft of his cock and I because Charlie’s dick hit my prostate just right. If god didn’t want men to be gay, he shouldn’t have put their G-spot up our asses. Only kidding – god isn’t real. Bill wore a big smile as he watched me, twinky and naked and bent over – my cock pointing in his general direction. I gave it a few tugs and Bill’s switched between me and Charlie who loomed over me, occasionally pushing me forward to bend me over farther. I could feel Charlie’s loose ball sac swing, touching my perineum and the slapping sound was quite exciting. Once Charlie had been going for a while, he’d started to slow down so Bill got up and moved closer. Charlie was already close to cumming and I had jerked my penis long enough to only need a few more minutes to reach climax. Bill started to rubbed himself through his shorts – the big guy was wearing a t-shirt that would have fit the Incredible Hulk and bust just as easily as the green guy’s clothes seemed to. His shorts would have fit two of me, not because he was fat but because everything about him seemed to be big. I really do mean EVERYTHING about Bill seemed to be big! His penis had grown and was now three quarters of the way down his thigh. I heard Charlie mutter “fuck” and it could have been my ass or Bill’s gigantic cock that caused the expletive. At a guess, I’d say Bill’s penis was ten inches long and about seven inches thick. It was big! Really big! You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it was. Charlie came in my ass – I felt him arrive, so to speak – and then he slumped over me. Charlie’s weight and exhaustion brought me back to the hilltop where I was bare naked in public with a cock up my ass and being watched by a big American dude. Charlie pulled out and started making himself decent so he wouldn’t be caught with his pants down. Bill meanwhile stood in front of me and pulled the waistband of his shorts under his scrotum. His cock was huge! With Charlie off my back and removed from my anus, I had straightened up and just as I was about to cum. Bill stepped right up to me, lifted the front of his t-shirt and pulled me in by grabbing my dick. His chest and abs were hairy – I had time enough to notice that before Bill slipped my exploding penis under the hem of his t-shirt just as I started spurting cum. Bill’s abdomen was absolutely solid – and he rubbed my penis across his washboard abs and chest; once it was done discharging, I picked a few hairs from Bill’s abdomen off my sticky cock head. I looked over my shoulder to see Charlie tying up his spent condom and cleaning his dick. When I looked back, Bill was jerking away on his ten-incher. Bill aimed at my chest and shot his hot cum on me; it was like a fireman’s hose, shooting strong bursts for creamy goo up my chest and over my abdomen. The thick and milky ropes of spunk landed messily, pooling in my bellybutton. Charlie hadn’t been paying attention – he was busy getting dressed and Bill winked so the experience was kept between the two of us. Bill hefted his garden hose cock back into his shorts and Charlie noticed the cum on me, assuming it was my own. I smiled knowing it was really Bill’s and that my jizz was drying on Bill’s matted chest hair. Charlie’s eyes watched Bill who was still lazily stroking his monster but Charlie never got to see it in all its glory. The thick hose was clearly outlined against Bill’s shorts which barely had enough room to accommodate the fat organ. The head of Bill’s penis very nearly peaked out of his shorts but he held it back to keep it from Charlie. With a grin, Bill suggested Charlie should clean up my mess – the cum on my tummy that wasn’t really mine. Charlie seemed to like the idea – if it would make Bill happy, I think Charlie would have agreed to anything. Charlie pursed his lips over my bellybutton and slurped the cum from it. I felt his tongue swirl around before releasing from my tummy. I thought it was amazing that Charlie had just sucked Bill’s cum from my body, the secret adding a layer of unexpected satisfaction. Charlie’s eyes flirted between Bill and I. In retrospect I realise two things. 1) Bill knew I was naked because of Charlie and he had rewarded me for my sportsmanship. 2) Charlie was indulging his own bout of jealousy for not being paid attention to. The next thing I knew he had thrown something at me. My shorts were on the grass behind me and I gratefully pulled them on. Charlie didn’t give my by briefs or my t-shirt back and I didn’t ask. We sat on the hilltop for a while talking to Bill, who stopped subtly pleasuring himself to tell us he was travelling around the world. He was an avid mountain climber and laid over in Scotland for two days longer than he’d planned. In lieu of a mountain to climb – he’d already tackled Ben Nevis – he was taking a few days off. For Bill, climbing a hill still counted as having the day off. He was twenty-three, a lawyer and had “a month off work in which to climb mountains and watch twinky gay Brittish boys have sex.” He was funny too. He asked if we were a couple and I left Charlie to answer that one because I wanted to be a couple and didn’t trust myself to answer properly. I was too gutless to tell Charlie how I felt but the funny thing was that Charlie paused as if he wanted me to answer. When I said nothing and then Charlie said nothing, Bill just nodded as if to say “sure, ok.” We walked back down the hill with him and we knew we’d not see him again, but Bill would never forget us and I’d certainly never forget him and his ten inch penis. The drive home was filled with talk of the big American with the ass-hurting penis wand when we got back to Charlie’s we had sex again. The thing I didn’t know at the time was that Charlie and I would only have sex one more time. We fooled around and masturbated together, I gave him a blowjob… but the only other time we would have sex would be the first month of University. I went to see him in Glasgow and he actually made me dinner and then we had sex. A week after that, Jake asked me out and that was the end of me and Charlie. Except there had never been a me and Charlie. I suppose, in a way, that trip up the hill stays with me because that was the summer when I could have made things happen. I could have told Charlie how I felt and I wonder what difference it would have made to my life. What road would my life have taken? But if I had told Charlie, I would never have fallen in love with Jake. And if I hadn’t lost him and moved on, I’d never have met you down this road. And if I hadn’t met you, I might never have written this story down and we’d never have gotten to this moment when… Vincent hadn’t been sure how to end his story for Cameron. Ultimately, he settled for an ending that he hoped Cameron would appreciate. The story ended at the same moment he finished reading the final sentence. Vincent had written in first person to avoid identifying himself and carefully avoided Cameron’s name during the entire story too – just in case the story was intercepted. Vincent had typed and printed it at home and folded the seven pages into an unmarked envelope. Vincent knew quite nicely that the story had been on his mind because of Charlie – because Charlie had been in touch after five years and suddenly they were making kocaeli escort plans to meet. Vincent had no intention of updating Cameron on the Charlie story; as far as Cameron knew, his best friend had gone away five years ago and the friendship had sunk without a trace. So much in his story was undersold – Vincent read the words he had written and felt nothing compared to the heart-exploding feeling he felt in his heart ever time he thought about Charlie. Since this was a sex story for his current lover, it was perhaps better that he undersold the feelings. “Afternoon sir,” said Cameron at the end of class. It was the last class of the day and the kids – although many were still loitering – were all starting to look a little haggard. That is, except for Cameron who looked rather delighted to be getting homework for once – so to speak. Vincent handed Cameron the envelope and his young lover grinned as he slid it from view and into his bag. Vincent looked fearfully around the room out of fear that someone would see the exchange but they were all too busy chatting, insulting, laughing. It wasn’t always easy being a teacher and having a teenage lover, it certainly wasn’t a walk in the… AND ANOTHER THING “…park on Saturday?” “I guess so,” Robin answered. Ben had been suggesting a picnic and despite Robin thinking that January was too cold for it, he agreed because Ben seemed so enthused and they were still finding their feet in their new relationship. Cameron had been very keen to “get the gossip” about Robin and Ben but so far there wasn’t much to tell. Robin knew that if Ben or Cameron knew about the complication Adam added to the mix, their heads would explode. This was why, among other reasons, everything about Adam remained a secret. Mostly, Robin just wanted to keep things quiet and low-key which was why he would rather not have been making plans with his boyfriend while still in school. “Robin, d’you wanna move your ass?” said Carlos as he pushed his way down the aisle between desks. Robin had been leaning on Ben’s desk, with his bum stuck out, chatting while Cameron spoke to Mr Wilson. Robin stood up and mumbled an apology but knew something was already starting. Once upon a time it was Adam who led the charge in bullying, insulting and demeaning – Carlos (and to a lesser extent Nasser or Tomek) had been his backup dancers. With Adam being increasingly less of an asshole – and Robin did wonder if this had been noticed by Adam’s peers or not – Carlos had really stepped up to take his place. Nasser was a fellow little gremlin who was now playing second rather than third fiddle. “Maybe he had his butt stuck out ’cause he was hoping you’d put something in it,” Nasser said. He pushed his anal sex joke home with a few bawdy hip thrusts. “Fuck off,” replied Carlos; “I’ve already got one dick in my pants, I don’t need another one.” His hostility was directed at Robin even as the reply was in response to Nasser. Nasser laughed nastily, “Still not come out yet, Robin? Are you as ashamed of yourself as we are?” As they all left Mr Wilson’s classroom, Ben and Micah muttered to Robin about the bullies both being worse jerks than they used to be. Cameron was still in the classroom and Robin noticed Adam was just in front of his best friend. He stopped to wait for Cameron in the corridor. “Hey Robin!” said Carlos. Robin tied to ignore him. In a few more seconds he could leave school for the day and galvanise himself for more bullshit tomorrow. “Robin!” Robin made the mistake of looking at Carlos and the small crowd of pupils in the corridor were all looking to see what would happen next. “I know we’re all still waiting for exam results but I hear you’re failing… at life,” Carlos said. Nasser and his buddies sniggered in unison with Carlos, so did a few other kids – everyone else just stayed out of it. Adam had exited the classroom with Cameron just behind him; he had overheard Carlos’ comment and didn’t look pleased. Alongside Adam was Arthur who also looked disgruntled but he’d been putting up with Adam being a bastard for over five years and there were only so many fires Arthur could put out. “Your mum must be so proud of everything you’ve achieved… if you ever achieved anything,” Nasser contributed nastily. Robin started to feel sick so he turned to leave – he knew that Cameron wouldn’t mind him going now and he’d catch up. Meanwhile, Adam heard the dig about Robin’s mum and gritted his teeth – he was going to have words with his friends. “His mum’s a fuckin’ boot. She abandoned Robin in primary school. Maybe she takes it up the ass just like him, except she gets paid,” Carlos laid on the vitriol to laughter of disbelief and cruelty from the surrounding students. Carlos was still laughing at his insult when Adam grabbed him by the front of his shirt with two angry fists and literally threw him against the wall. Carlos bounced off the wall and landed on his feet. Laughter had turned to shock which turned to fury. Carlos’ face was rage-filled, his fists balled into fists in an instant and he was about to rearrange Adam’s face. Adam was also angrier than he could put into words and was ready to make a dentist very rich… “You don’t talk shit about a guy’s mum, dude,” Arthur said casually as he stepped between them and just as casually put out both his arms to keep them both far apart. “He fucking pushed me!” roared Carlos. “What are you, twelve?” Arthur said dryly. “Adam forgot to put on his big boy pants today so he’s feeling a little delicate about bad language.” There was only a couple of kids still around but they laughed as Arthur gently mocked both his friends so it was hard to tell who’s side he was on. Of course, neither Adam nor Carlos laughed but their blood was no longer boiling. Carlos still wanted to deck Adam but he couldn’t challenge Arthur – the BFG of the school – without implicitly admitting how sore he was about Adam’s reaction. “Is something going on here?” Mr Wilson asked from the doorway of his classroom. No-one answered adequately, suddenly everyone found somewhere else to look or go. Cameron had reached Robin and they were slowly slinking away with Ben using every fibre of his being to resist holding Robin’s hand for comfort. Micah had lingered a little longer, watching Adam and wondering what the fuck had provoked that reaction. Then he remembered that he didn’t care and walked away too. Carlos came close to Adam, dropping his voice into a low and threatening tone. “You fucking push me again and I’ll rip off you’re fucking head,” Carlos spat. “Yea, yea…” Adam said breathlessly and dismissively – but his pulse was still racing. “We’re all friends here. We’ll be back to pinkie swears and braiding each other’s hair tomorrow, so let’s not fall out,” Arthur suggested in his easy way but he knew Carlos was unconvinced and still majorly pissed off. “Besides, you wouldn’t want anyone thinking Adam had hurt your feelings, would you?” Arthur left a just-too-long pause between “your” and “feelings” to make his point plain. To fall out over this would implicitly mean Carlos admitting that Adam had physically hurt him. To save face they would both back down because to escalate would embarrass them both rather than cover them in glory. Carlos said nothing as he stormed away towards the yellow stairs and tried not to look like his back hurt like hell – Nasser and Tomek followed him. Now that they were alone, Arthur turned to Adam. “Ok, Adam… What the hell was that?” “Just forget it,” Adam said irritably. They were walking from the English department towards the red stairs. “Was it the joke about his mum?” asked Arthur as he tousled his blonde hair. “He shouldn’t have said that!” Adam said, still angry. Arthur could hear anger mixed with distress. “I know,” Arthur agreed – understanding filled his steel blue eyes. Arthur knew they weren’t talking about Robin’s familial arrangements now; they were talking about Adam’s mother. “Is your mum ok?” Arthur asked. Arthur was the only other person Adam had ever told about him mum. How he had kept it a secret from the rest of his friends was as much a testament to his furtiveness as to their lack of attention. “Pretty much the same,” Adam answered vaguely. His mum was on her third chest infection of the winter and her ability to recover diminished every time. It worried Adam that one day she wouldn’t have the reserve to recover at all. “Or did you get angry because Carlos was insulting Robin?” Arthur observed carefully. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adam lied but he couldn’t look his friend in the eye. Arthur put a hand gently on Adam’s arm, causing him to turn and meet his friend’s gaze. “So what’s going on with you and Robin?” Arthur asked – cautiously – as a follow up. “Nothing… Nothing, ok?” Adam protested too much. “Carlos has made jokes and said plenty of shitty things before and you’ve never flipped out like that…” Arthur persisted. “I just didn’t think what he was saying was funny,” Adam said miserably. “Of course it wasn’t funny. What’s that got to do with anything?” Arthur said as if Adam had just stated the obvious. “You think the things you used to say were funny? Do you think people laugh at stuff like that because it’s funny?” “Then why do people laugh?” Adam asked shortly, bitterly, self-loathingly. “You know why. To be accepted,” Arthur said. They were in the red stairwell on the ground floor and Adam stopped to listen to those two sentences and realised nothing truer had ever been said. He pushed into the corridor and stepped inside the one of the guidance rooms which was empty. The whole school seemed empty. It was just Adam and Arthur and the tumbleweeds. “You think Carlos will forget this?” Adam asked. “Who cares?” Arthur replied flippantly; “What’s going on with you and Robin?” he asked again. Adam sighed (a desperate little noise that sounded almost like weeping) and scrubbed his face with his hands in frustration. Arthur was getting so close to asking… “Nothing. I already said nothing. Why do you keep asking?” Adam pleaded. He’d only asked twice, but Adam felt harried and caged. “Because you guys fell out after primary school and then you spent five years being the biggest dick imaginable to him…” Arthur answered. “And then you stopped. There was that thing in the changing room with him storming off back in November; then I see you driving off with him when school stopped for Christmas. And then you guys were talking in the toilets today. And then you picked a fight with Carlos…” “Alright! Jesus! What are you, stalking me?” Adam said irritably. “Not stalking, just observant,” Art replied Arthur had succinctly summed things up and Adam had no equally succinct reply. “It’s ok if he’s you friend again,” Arthur said when Adam offered nothing; “I mean, I need twenty-eight days notice so I can find a new best friend but…” Adam laughed at the joke and with desperate relief, so much so he had to fight tears. Inside Adam knew he was freaking out about Micah, about Mr Anonymous, about Robin and about the mess he had made in throwing Carlos. The last thing he needed was losing Arthur. “No, we’re good. I’m just a mess just now,” Adam answered. “So talk to me,” Arthur said. Adam shrugged hopelessly, turning in a circle as if his compass was off but really he just so he wasn’t looking at his best friend anymore. “Adam, just tell me…” Arthur said softly; Adam knew The Question was coming. The big question, the one he, and many before him, wanted to run from; “Are you gay?” “Get lost, Arthur,” Adam muttered dismissively. If Adam thought he was freaking out before, he definitely was now. Arthur was tall and blonde; muscular and gentle; his eyes were kind and his voice soft – he was the Big Friendly Giant of the school. So why did Adam feel so threatened? “It’s ok if you are…” Arthur said gently. He reached out to touch Adam’s shoulder but Adam pulled away. “Look, you’re my best friend and I’ll love you till one of us dies,” Arthur said. Adam’s eyes had welled with tears. “Art, please stop now,” Adam’s voice cracked; “Please, go away.” No-one was supposed to know. It wasn’t fair! “It’s just not a big deal… Maybe it’s not fair to ask, you’d have told me if you wanted to tell me but…” Arthur persisted kindly. “Go away, Art. Go away,” Adam said as he rounded angrily on his friend. “Adam…” Arthur said reasonably. “Fuck off, Arthur!” Adam shouted full volume in Arthur’s face. Arthur was very still, his mouth bitten closed and his steel blue eyes swimming like an ocean disturbed by the rain. He found it hard to say anything because for all he defended Adam’s cruelty to others, Adam had never spoken like that to him. “Fine,” Arthur muttered eventually. Without anger, Arthur pulled the door open. It swung as far as it would go and bounced back, half closing behind him. The school was already empty but it was only as Arthur walked away that Adam felt all alone. “Art? Wait,” Adam said too weakly to be heard. His friend was gone. Adam turned on the spot and kicked the floor. He made fists of his hands and thumped a desktop with frustration. Adam struggled to contain his anger at himself. He could have just told Arthur. He could have just admitted it. Adam wanted to wreck the room, punch the walls – break himself in some way. Adam screamed silently against the room with rage giving way despair. He hadn’t even realised he was crying, but Adam wiped tears from his cheek. He kept wiping them away and they just kept coming; short and ragged breaths made his chest hurt, but that might have been the sense of desolation he felt. A sense of panic was overwhelming him. When his phone started to ring, Adam wanted to throw it against the wall or stomp on it but then he saw it was Arthur calling. He stopped weeping long enough to swipe answer and put the phone to his ear. “I’m sorry I shouted at you, Art. I was scared,” Adam said; his voice garbled with anguish. Adam worked hard to create a facade of bravado and confidence but he knew it was a disguise Arthur had always seen though. “I know,” Arthur said quietly. “How do you know?” Adam asked. There was a gentle knock and Adam turned to see Arthur standing outside the window watching him with a sad smile. “You’re my best friend, Adam,” Arthur said compassionately; “I always know.” Adam burst into tears. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve a friend like Arthur. He didn’t deserve someone to be so understanding. He didn’t deserve someone to be unconditional in their friendship towards him – because he certainly wasn’t a perfect friend himself. Adam was embarrassed to be seen wiping hot, wet tears from his face but it was uncontrollable now. Gradually, Adam stopped. He just had to breathe. Adam turned back to look at Arthur who had patiently waited for him to be ready. Adam could feel his eyes sore and red and he sniffed to clear the secretions from his nose. Even through blurry eyes Adam could see Arthur put his hand against the glass. Adam put his hand on the other side and finally said the words out loud that he never imagined saying… “Yes,” Adam said into the phone. “I am gay.” “I know,” Arthur said softly, little tears touching his eyes too; “It’s alright.” “Are we ok?” Adam asked – he had given up sounding anything less than pathetic. “Of course we’re ok,” Art insisted. Adam felt relief sweep over him. He’d come out – his best friend knew he was gay and the universe had not completely imploded nor the flying spaghetti monster consumed the world. “I don’t know where we go from here,” Adam admitted. Arthur thought for a minute, “McDonalds?” Adam laughed harder at a joke than it really deserved. Arthur laughed too and they both brimmed with the relief and calm that had swept over them. Eventually, Adam found the giggles subsiding and a sense of serenity settled over him. “Well, I don’t know about you… but I’m getting a happy meal.” If you want to contact me about this chapter on the ongoing story, email: [email protected] Next week’s CH-20 is something really special and a bit different. I look forward to sharing it with you. Nifty is free thanks to the generous donations of its visitors so if you love these stories please help: http://donate./donate.html Visit my blogspot – pot – for updates including chapter synopses and excerpts. If you are enjoying this story, I have also written: School Exhibitionism fty//gay/highschool/school-exhibitionism The Symposium – http://www.//gay/authoritarian/the-symposium/ The Embarrassment of Riches fty//gay/highschool/the-embarrassment-of-riches/

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