Thank you all for your comments on Chapter 1. Well, there haven't been any hot sex scenes yet, apart from Brian catching a glimpse of his sons fooling around. But I hope you'll stick around because there are some very hot scenes in the chapters to come.
This chapter is a flashback to Brian's and Bjorn's high school days, how they met and became a couple.
This story deals with adult themes, primarily same-gender sexual relations. Such relations have their basis in love and commitment, rather than sex for the sake of sex alone. In some cases they will use protection; at other times they will not. You and I should always use protection because we do not live in the world of fiction.
If you are offended the idea of homosexuality or if you are under the age of consent or if you reside in an area where such things are considered illegal or immoral, then you should seek entertainment elsewhere.
Comments may be directed to the author at thornado5@netscape.net
This story is copyright 2004 by Mike Williams. All rights reserved. Thou shalt not steal.
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A Thousand Rainbows by Mike Williams
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It had been 25 years ago, a November afternoon much like this one, the end of Indian summer. The eastern side of the school's campus bordered on an area of meadows and forest, crisscrossed by a network of hiking trails. A creek flowed into a manmade pond.
On a Sunday afternoon the two freshmen went for a walk. Bjorn had brought his camera, hoping to capture the brilliant colors of autumn in New England. Brian had taken his notebook, hoping to find a quiet spot where he could study for an upcoming history test. The day was sunny, and the trees were showing their finest.
"You go on ahead," Brian suggested. "I'm gonna park myself by the creek; maybe I can make some sense of this history stuff before tomorrow's test."
"Suit yourself, bookworm," Bjorn replied, pointing to an area on the far side of the meadow. "But, have a look over yonder. I just spotted some colors that are sure to get me top honors at the art show." Carefully cradling his 35-mm camera in his hand, he trotted off to capture his prize on film.
Brian walked to the creek, kicked off his shoes and sat down a few feet from the water's edge. He opened his notebook and started going over the notes he and Bjorn had taken in Mr. Burke's Ancient History class. So much to remember, he thought, Greeks, Assyrians, Egyptians, Phoenicians ... "Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears; I come not to praise Caesar, but to drill some knowledge into your heads" ... that was how Professor Burke had introduced himself to their class just two months earlier. The professor was the best at what he did, and he demanded a lot from his students.
It must have been about half an hour later that Bjorn, down to just a few empty frames, came walking back across the meadow and sat down on the bank next to his roommate.
"Well, is it starting to make sense yet?" he asked.
"I don't know," Brian replied. "I'm not all that sure what Cleopatra saw in either Julius Caesar or Marc Antony. But, if I'm reading these notes right, I think she was one tough bitch. If she was around today, she could probably give those lady wrestlers a good run for their money."
Bjorn immediately picked up on the joke. Taking the part of a ring announcer, he proclaimed, "And in this corner, pharos, ladies and gentlemen, from the banks of the river Nile, weighing one hundred and ten pounds, the Empress of Egypt, Hulkopatra!"
The two boys lay back on the bank, their combined laughter echoing across the stream.
"I like that. Professor Burke might even get a laugh. But I doubt he'd give me an A on my test for an answer like that." Then Brian stopped, looking past his roommate.
"Bjorn," Brian whispered. "Be very quiet, don't make any sudden moves. Turn around slowly."
Bjorn did as he was told. A buck, a rare sight in that part of Connecticut, had emerged from the forest just thirty feet from the two boys. The deer regarded them with little interest and proceeded to the water's edge to drink from the stream.
Brian leaned closer to his roommate so that Bjorn could hear him. "How much film do you have left in your camera?" Brian asked quietly.
"Two, maybe three, frames," Bjorn whispered back.
"You've gotta get a shot of this. Wait `til he lifts his head," Brian said.
"Gimme a second to focus." Bjorn looked through the lens. He knew he wouldn't have much time to set the exposure.
As if on cue, the deer finished his drink and raised his head to an angle worthy of a king, holding the pose for just a moment.
"Now!" whispered Brian, as Bjorn pressed the button, committing the image to film.
Knowing his work was done, the buck trotted back into the forest, leaving Brian and Bjorn in awe. Brian was the first to speak.
"Caesar, I presume?"
"I think I'll call that photo `Majestic'."
"Good choice. Sure to get the yearbook photo editor to sit up and take notice."
Bjorn turned back to his friend, not saying a word, only a sly smile. He raised his camera and snapped Brian's picture.
Brian leaned back, and it took him a moment to realize what had just happened. "You dufus," he laughed. "Why did you do that?"
Bjorn was thoughtful about his reply. "The yearbook might have some pictures about the local flora and fauna. But they also want pictures and stories about us, and about what's important to us, students like you and me." He hesitated. It was now or never. "You are important to me, Brian. When my parents started talking about this place, I wasn't sure I could do the whole private school thing. Y'know, living away from home and being surrounded by strangers. I miss my friends in Hartford. I know I'm being offered a great opportunity at this school. But even after I got here, I seriously thought about running away. But I've never been on my own. I wouldn't know where to go."
"Have you talked to your folks or your counselor about it?" Brian asked.
"No, they're all counting on me to stick it out. I don't want to disappoint them." Bjorn paused. "And then someone assigned you and me to share a room. And, you ..."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you," Bjorn continued softly, "you've made living here a lot easier for me. I feel like I can lean on you, and I think I can trust you. There's times when you're not around, and I ... I feel like something's missing. And then when you come back to the room, everything just lights up in my head like a Christmas tree. I guess that sounds kinda crazy."
Brian regarded his friend with concern. "What do you think?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," Bjorn replied. "I feel something special for you, like there's a connection between us ... like you're like the brother I never had, but there's more to it. It's hard to explain."
"How does it feel?"
"It feels nice," Bjorn smiled. "Yeah, and safe."
"Right back at ya," Brian smiled back at his roommate.
"I still think about running away," Bjorn confessed. "But I wouldn't want to run away unless it was you and me running away together." Then he turned to face the stream. "Yeah, that's it. We'll build a raft and sail away to see where this creek leads."
"Well, I hate to bust your bubble, Huck Finn. But I have followed this creek. And it only goes so far as the swamp."
"So it looks like we're stuck here," Bjorn surmised.
"Yep, we might as well make the best of it." Brian got serious before continuing. "I feel the same way about you, Bjorn. But I was only too glad to get away from the city, too many distractions, my little brother's constant pestering, my sister fighting with my parents. I mean, I love my family and all, but I don't think I could ever get any work done with all of them around. Just wait until you meet Tony. If there is a god, my folks will ship him off to reform school. Then there's my sister Hillary. She's a few years older than us. But she's so wrapped up in her own little world, I don't think she'd give us the time of day."
The boys were quiet for a moment.
Brian looked at the ground between them, then continued. "Hell, just two months, and I can't remember what my life was like before I met you. And now, I can't imagine what my life would be like without you. It feels like we've known each other forever. You're my best friend, Bjorn."
"You're my best friend too, Brian."
Again the boys fell silent for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, as if memorizing every detail. It was Bjorn who broke the silence. "So where do we go from here?"
"I don't know," Brian replied. "I want us to get to know each other better, do the usual stuff that kids our age do, ride our bikes, hang out at the mall, go camping together. You do like camping, don't you?"
"Never done it," Bjorn said. "My dad's idea of `roughing it' is any hotel with less than five stars."
Brian smiled. "Well, stick with me, kid; I'll show ya the world. But there's just one thing."
Bjorn was sure something was wrong. "What's that? Do I have something in my hair, some spinach caught in my teeth?"
Brian was quick to answer. "No, no, nothing like that. It's just ... well ... Bjorn. Not a name you run across every day. How did your parents come by that?"
"From my grandmother. She lives in Stockholm and doesn't speak much English." Bjorn answered, sitting up a little straighter. "When she came to the hospital after I was born, she called me her little bear. Bjorn ... that's Swedish for `bear'. But that's really my middle name."
"Aww, how cute," Brian teased.
"Knock it off, asshole." Bjorn blushed and playfully punched his roommate's shoulder. This revelation aroused Brian's curiosity.
"So," Brian continued, "we've been sleeping in the same room for more than two months, practically living in each other's socks, and I still don't even know who it is I'm sharing a room with. So what is your name?"
Bjorn paused and looked at the ground. "It's Henry," he replied, then looked up, directly into Brian's eyes. "Henry-Alexander Bjorn Larkin, named for my grandfathers Henry Larkin and Alexander Olson ... and for my grandmother, who just had to put her two cents in." Then he turned the tables on Brian. "And just who the hell are you?"
Brian beamed; he was only too happy to tell. "Brian David Connor, so named when my dad couldn't come up with any worthy relatives to name me after. So he opened to a random page in the West Hartford phone book, closed his eyes, and took a wild stab at it. Good thing his aim was on. Scares me sometimes to think where his finger could have landed. Half an inch either way, and my name might have been Agnes."
For a moment Bjorn was totally taken by Brian's wild story. And then he saw the twinkle in his friend's eyes and burst out laughing. "You are so full of shit!!"
A man's voice boomed at them from the meadow. "Such colorful language, Mr. Larkin! Is it really necessary?"
The boys were on their feet instantly, face-to-face with Headmaster and Mrs. Stanwick, cameras around their necks, apparently out for a walk taking in the fall colors.
"Uh, Doctor Stanwick ... sir ... I - I'm very sorry, sir, m'am." Bjorn sputtered his response.
Brian had difficulty hiding his amusement. Mrs. Stanwick hid her smile behind her hand. Dr. Stanwick was enjoying this too.
"Mr. Larkin, I could demand a five-page essay on what is and is not acceptable language. But it's a lovely autumn day, our football team is undefeated, and I'm feeling generous. So we'll put the matter behind us ... this time ... and move on. Am I clear?"
"It won't happen again, sir."
Dr. Stanwick glanced at his wife and gave the boys his most charming smile. "Good Afternoon, Mr. Larkin ... Mr. Connor."
"Good Afternoon, Doctor Stanwick ... Mrs. Stanwick." The boys replied in unison. Mrs. Stanwick took her husband's hand, and they continued along the path toward the forest.
Brian smiled and offered his hand to his roommate. "Pleased to meet you, Henry- Alexander Bjorn Larkin. I hope we'll be friends for a long time."
Bjorn took the offered hand and smiled back and said, "I think we will, Brian David Connor."
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to be continued in Chapter 3