This is a story about a love between two young boys. The usual disclaimers apply: If you are under the age of 18, or reading such material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then please leave this story unread now. There are within the story explicit descriptions of sex between boys, but that is not the main theme; so if your thing is reading stories that are purely sex in nature then this story will probably not be to your liking.
The story is made up of both fact and fantasy. The people herein are real, but their names have been changed. The rest of the story, as I said, is a mixture of fact and fantasy . . . perhaps how I wish it had happened. As to what is fact and what isn't, I shall keep that to myself. As usual, comments and suggestions are welcome; flames will be ignored.
I received some very disturbing email just after posting Kenny_7. I won't go into detail but, well, it's not the message I'm trying to get across there. I decided to go no further in the story, but David, the Archivist, suggested very strongly that I must continue. Then at about the same time we were having our dialogue, I received another disturbing email, and was so moved by it, by the young man's frustrations and his desire to be honest and up-front, to love and be loved, that I requested his permission to include it here. Unfortunately, he is right in a great many cases. I will not comment further, just let you read the message (an excerpt from the one I received), and thank the sender once more for allowing me to share it. Thank you, man, you know who you are!
"Most of my friends are about the age you and Kenny were in this story. All of them are straight. I kind of watch them all, as only I can, being an outsider in their everlasting quest for "pussy". They make and break relationships at the drop of a hat, seeking partners based on status, looks, wealth, or willingness to put out. The only reason they're lacking is love. Oh they say, "I love you" all the time, but those are just words.
"They learn to imitate the people who are REALLY in love to, although they do it poorly. Rarely do they ever consider what the other is feeling, rarely do they go out of their way to do anything special for their partner. They're fuck-puppets. In our nineties world, full of the most cutting-edge new technology, the world's population at the most its ever been, lovers just can't seem to love each other. They can't look into each others eyes and say volumes without opening their mouths. They don't find security and happiness in their partner's touch. They're not content to just BE with someone. They have to have them to prove their 'love'.
"Perhaps that's why, when seeing two people who genuinely DO love each other, it really flips me out. Two people in the most oppositional environment found a way to depend on each other, to value the other, to live each others' life. I've never seen, in person, two people that actually love each other. I've just realized this tonight, so I think its my Great Discovery for the week."
Kenny_8: A Friend and So Much More
Two weeks later we were still sleeping in separate beds. By this time Mom and Dad Collins knew something was wrong, but they didn't know the details. Kenny and I spoke, did homework together, but that was the extent of our relationship. It must've been strange to watch, because we got along as well as any two brothers ever did, but there was no more sitting together on the couch and slipping our hands together, no more slipping off to bed early, no more waking morning after morning with one bed in our room completely undisturbed. Dad Collins asked us many times what was wrong, but we just said "nothing" and refused to elaborate.
"What're ya doing?" Kenny asked when he walked into the room. It was the end of November, and there'd been no resolution, no change.
"I'm packing," I said, "I just don't feel comfortable here. I'm going back home." As I said the word 'home' I realized that I'd considered myself home where I was for quite some time, and it seemed more to me as if I was leaving my home, not returning to it.
"I wish you wouldn't," Kenny said in a shaky voice, "Can't we just go back to the way we were?"
"And what way is that, Kenny? You've already got a brother so you don't need me. I never had one so being your brother isn't what I had in mind when I moved in here."
"That's not what I meant, Charlie. I meant further back. I'm sorry, but I overreacted to what you did. I should've just given you hell then forgot it. I've been thinking lately, and I've decided I miss you so much I'm willing to take a chance on catching anything you might have caught. I just don't want to lose you, Charlie."
"I think it's too late, Kenny," I answered as my eyes started getting misty again, "It's been over a month and you showed no interest in changing things before. I think we both need to get our lives straightened out, and we can't do that as long as I'm here."
I didn't believe what I was saying, and Kenny's revelation that he was willing to resume the relationship should have been the best news I could ever hope for, but it wasn't. The incredible thing was, I didn't want to leave; I didn't want to face my father's wrath, and I certainly didn't want to end what Kenny and I had. But I guess somewhere deep inside I was angry for the way he'd treated me over the past month, and I wanted revenge. I wanted him to hurt the way I'd been hurting ever since the incident at the pool.
I have done some stupid things in my life, but this one has to go down in history as one of the most idiotic! Dad Collins tried to talk to me, but I'd made up my mind. I thanked him for all his kindness, but told him this was just something I had to do. He still didn't know what had caused the rift in the first place, only that things weren't well with us and hadn't been for some time. So after I'd finished packing all my things, I tied them on my little motorbike, shook Dad Collins' and Kenny's hands, gave Mom Collins a hug, and headed for home.
"What brings you around?" my father asked when I walked in.
"I--I'm moving back home, Dad, if that's all right."
"Finally coming to your senses, huh? What happened?"
"Nothing really, I just felt that I should move back home at least until I finished school."
"Well," father said without emotion, "You should've called first. We've rented your room, so you'll have to sleep on the day bed in the den. And I hope you've got that crazy idea about being in love with that Collins kid out of your head."
I didn't answer, but I noticed Ellen looking long and hard at the bracelet on my wrist. So I just busied myself untying my things off the bike and getting settled in the den. Dad used that den for all sorts of things in the days and evenings, so I had a place to sleep, but no place that was really "my room." I didn't like it, but there seemed no alternative at the time.
I didn't do very well on my Christmas exams. I had no incentive to study at all, and whenever possible I avoided all my old friends: Kenny, Ron, and Timmy. I think now that I was in some sort of self-imposed exile, but I had begun to wonder if I was really gay at all. I made new friends, guys I had known in elementary school. They were ok, but they were into all the sports that high schools provide, and it just wasn't my thing. And then I met Jack.
Jack and I had one common interest: motorcycles. I still had my little moped but was planning on buying something bigger in the spring. Jack had a little BSA that was not big as motorbikes go, but next to my tinker-toy it was a monster. He was about 19, had dropped out of school in the 9th grade, and was working at whatever job he could find. I wasn't the least attracted to him sexually, nor did he display any attraction to me, at least at first.
"I'm goin' up to my parents' camp for the weekend," Jack said one Wednesday night in March, "Why don't you come along? The ice fishing should be pretty good."
"Sounds like fun," I answered, "When are you going?"
"Tomorrow night, right after work."
"But I've got school Friday. Why can't you wait till Friday?"
"Fishing's good now," he explained, "On the weekend everybody and his dog will be there. I wanna catch some fish. Besides, you can miss a couple days of school. It'll probably do you good."
I couldn't resist. I'd never been ice fishing, and the thoughts of staying in that camp held a strange attraction for me, and Jack seemed really anxious for me to go. I didn't have that many friends, so I agreed.
We had a terrible trip to the lake. It was getting dark before we left, and before we'd gone 10 miles it had started to snow. It was 60 miles to the camp, so by the time we got there we were both soaked to the skin, cold, and hungry.
The camp was a pretty typical cottage/camp, with no electricity, no running water except a slow dribble that came from a spring up the hill. For heat there was a small wood stove, where Jack soon had a roaring fire going. As soon as the camp started heating up we started peeling our clothes off. I found I was quite reluctant to take off all my clothes, but I'd put on a pair of long underwear for the drive and it was as wet as everything else; so when Jack took his underwear off I followed suit. I wanted to tell Jack that no one but Kenny had ever seen me naked before, but of course I didn't.
We sat around the hot stove, stark naked, all evening. We talked about this and that, in particular some of the girls we both knew. About 10 PM Jack produced a pint of rum he'd hidden in his pack and asked me if I wanted a drink. I had never tasted liquor, but I was trying to be cool, trying to be one of the guys, so I said "Sure, I'd love one!"
Needless to say, by the time we got ready for bed we were both feeling no pain. There were two bedrooms with a double bed in each, but Jack suggested we sleep together to take advantage of our body heat when the fire died down. It sounded like a good idea to me, so we both crawled in after putting our underwear back on.
As we lay in bed, we started talking about girls again. Jack began telling me about all the girls he'd bedded, and what he'd do with this one or that one right now if he had them in bed. "That Carol," he growled, "I bet she'd be a good lay." As he said it he moved closer to me. I had my back to him, and I felt his body touch mine, his erection poking me in the back. He put his arms around my shoulders and started humping gently, grunting "Oh, Carol! Would I ever like to fuck you!"
I felt his hand sliding down my chest, my belly, and on down till he grasped my erection through the underwear. I was on the verge of panic, but at the same time just being touched caused me to not want it to stop. Then after a short hesitation the hand fumbled with a button, then another, and then his hand was holding my cock. As we continued to hump gently in the bed, he began stroking me. "Do it to me!" he grunted. I was moaning and groaning, pretending I was more drunk than I was. I did take his dick in my hand, albeit reluctantly.
When Jack finally came, he shot all over himself in the front, and me in the back. I was astonished at how disgusted I was at his emission. Even my own ejaculation seemed dirty to me, not something I wanted to touch or have anything to do with.
Jack and I played our mutual jerk-off game often after that. It was always the same: drink enough booze to be able to play drunk, then a quick jerk off. He always urged me to suck him, but I only did it once. We were in a borrowed car, out in the country on a fairly deserted road.
"Suck it for me, Charlie!" Jack said breathlessly. I only grunted. I couldn't answer because I was supposed to be drunk and not know what I was doing. He asked again, and again.
"OK," I finally gave in, "But only if you got a rubber." Of course he did, all young men and teens carried condoms in their wallet, if for no other reason than to appear to be sexually active to their peers. He put the rubber on and I took his big dick in my mouth. It wasn't much longer than mine, but it was really thick. And truly disgusting to me. The taste of the rubber didn't help, but with or without it I was almost sick as I worked my lips up and down. He didn't have an orgasm, at least until I stopped sucking and he finished himself off.
After my many experiences with Jack, I had started having serious doubts if I was gay at all. I had seen the odd girl I was attracted to, and I began justifying any attraction to boys that I felt. But I still couldn't get Kenny out of my mind. Night after night I would lie in bed, my left hand fondling and fingering the identification bracelet on my right wrist, and I would cry. I never had to look at it, because its every detail was permanently etched in my brain. Kenny had called a few times when I first left, but the calls had become fewer and fewer.
"How'd ya do?" a familiar voice came from behind me. It was June, and the end of the school year. We had all just got our final grades and everyone was asking everyone else if they'd passed, and how their grades were.
"Hi, Kenny," I said, trying my best to hide what I was feeling, "I did ok I guess," I answered, "I wound up with a "B" average."
"Not too bad, but not up to your usual standards, Charlie."
"Things change, Kenny. How'd you do, as if I didn't already know?"
"Well, if I'd only got an "A" in Physics I'd have all A's. Some of that stuff I just can't do alone. You're the scientist, Charlie. Without you to help me I just can't get that stuff!"
"It doesn't matter anyway," I observed, "I'm not going back in the fall."
"You're quitting school?" Kenny was visibly shocked, "But why? What about college? What're you gonna do?"
"What's it matter?" I said, trying to show how tough I'd become, "I forgot about college a long ago. It's just not gonna happen, Kenny. I've got no money, my dad wants me to be a fuckin' lawyer and if I try anything else I'm on my own. So there's not gonna be any college for me. Besides, I'm just plain sick of school." I had learned, like so many teens, that having good grades, being a gentle and caring, emotional individual was just not cool. And it certainly hadn't got me anywhere, or so I thought at the time.
"Can I walk with you?" Kenny asked tentatively. `YESSSSS!!!!!,' every fiber in my body was screaming. But I acted the cool dude and shrugged, saying sure, if you want to.
I could not believe how much I wanted to take Kenny in my arms right there and then and hug the life out of him. But I could hardly do that, could I? After all I wasn't gay, never had been really, just confused. But we made small talk, he asking me about my motorbike, I asking him how his folks were, how the swimming was going, very neutral subjects.
"What are you doing for the summer?" he asked.
"Not much," I answered, "But I'll probably go up to the farm in another week or two if I don't find a job. Maybe I'll stay there and just work on the farm." In truth that was the furthest thing from my mind, but I wasn't about to tell him that.
About that time we had come to the place where I turned off. I wanted to just say "see ya" and leave, but I couldn't seem to make my feet obey. There was a long uncomfortable pause. I saw Kenny looking at my wrist, the bracelet still there. I checked his wrist and he still had his on too. I don't even know why I looked, but I did.
"What else have you forgotten, Charlie?" he asked. I could see his eyes misting up.
"I dunno what you mean," I defended.
"I think you know exactly what I mean, Charlie. We had such plans, going to college together, building our lives, showing your dad that you're more than a piece of shit! Making your mother proud! And now you're throwing it all away! I know you love the farm, Charlie, but you could do so much more! Charlie, I have to ask you something."
I shuffled nervously. All the old feelings came back, and I wanted to be anywhere on the earth except where I was. "What is it?" I said as neutrally as I could.
"Charlie..." Kenny hesitated, then started again with more energy. "Charlie, do you.... are you.... uh... are you ready to take the bracelets off yet?"
"Why do you ask?" I evaded, "Do you want to? We can if you say so."
"I think you already know, Charlie. I'll never take mine off, and I'll never take yours off either. If either of them ever comes off, it'll have to be you that does it."
"Kenny," I said, fighting my breaking voice, "It's been so long..."
"Yeah, it has," he agreed, "It's been too fucking long! Charlie, I've missed you so much! I know just by the way you've been acting that you're not very happy, and I'm just conceited enough to think that the reason you're unhappy is me!"
"That's not conceit, Kenny, that's truth. You could have any guy, or girl, in the whole school! So why would you fool around with me? I've really screwed up since I moved out of your house."
"I know all about it, Charlie. I know about the drinking, and the wild parties, and I know about Jack too. I don't know what you guys do but I know you spend a lot of time with him. I don't know him very well but I know enough to know you can't possibly love him."
"He's just a friend, Kenny," I said defensively, "We both like motorcycles, and his folks have this cool camp where we go fishing a lot. But if you know about all my hell raising, then you know I'm not the kind of guy you need to be with. You're special, Kenny, and you're going places. I can't ask you to hang around me, I'll just pull you down. Why would you want to anyway?"
"Because I love you, Charlie, and I don't see that changing any time soon. I miss you so much!"
"Kenny, I... I just don't know..." I was wavering and I think he knew it. He went for the kill.
"Charlie," he said suddenly, "Are you doing anything tonight? I mean, right now?"
"No," I answered, "Not for the rest of the afternoon anyway." Another lie! It being the last day of school we were out shortly after noon, and I expected Jack to be at the house waiting for me. We were planning to go out and get rip-roarey eyed drunk, in celebration of my last day of school: my last day EVER!
"Can you come home with me, please?" he pleaded, Maybe have dinner with us?"
"Well, I don't know...."
"Please?" OK, he had me. Kenny had grown some, had lost that squeaky voice that switched between baritone and soprano that I'd loved so much, but he hadn't lost those deep brown eyes that could totally mesmerize me with one look. So I said ok and continued to walk with him.
"Charlie! What a pleasant surprise!" Mom Collins exclaimed with I walked in with Kenny, "How have things been going?"
"Pretty good, Mrs. Collins," I answered.
"Mrs. Collins?" she said in surprise, "What happened to Mom Collins?"
"That was a long time ago."
"There's never a time limit on love, Charlie," she lectured, "I loved you when you were my surrogate son, and that'll never change. And I sorta thought you felt the same way about me."
When I look back on these events now, which I have abbreviated somewhat, I can't help wonder if it was a conspiracy from the beginning. It certainly wouldn't be the first time I'd been set up by the Collins family, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But right now I felt as though I'd just come home, and I dissolved in Mom Collins' arms in tears. She held me and consoled me just as if I were her own son; just like I'd seen her do with Kenny; just like my mom had done when I was little. And at that moment I was little. I was a very little boy being comforted by my mama, and it felt so incredibly good! When I finally pulled myself away I noticed that she was crying also. She was crying! For ME!
"Charlie's staying for supper," Kenny said questioningly, "If that's all right."
"All right!" Mom C. said with a start, "And why wouldn't it be all right? Of course he'll stay for supper, and all night, and for breakfast, and for the rest of his life if he so chooses! Now you boys get on up to your room. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about, and I have to get supper going. Dad will be home soon to see how you did this year. Incidentally, how did you do Kenny?"
"You already know, Mom," Kenny answered sheepishly, "That darn Physics kept me from getting all A's."
"I'm so proud of you!" she gushed, "And how did you do Charlie?"
"Well, ma'am, I started,
"Charlie missed a lot of time this year, Mom," Kenny interrupted, "But he came out with a B average. I think that was pretty good considering."
"Of course it's good," she assured us, "Long as you did your best, Charlie. You both are such good boys!"
Well, now as I climbed the stairs behind Kenny, followed him into his room, my mind was racing a million times a second. Damn, I thought, his mom had forgot all about Kenny's grades when she saw me! She had reduced me to tears, something I thought I had under control now. And she'd just acted like she thought Kenny and I were back together, and she was happy about it! "Thanks, Kenny," I said when we were out of earshot, "For not saying anything about my quitting school."
"Why?" Kenny shot back, "I got the impression you were proud of it." I didn't answer, nor did he wait for one. But the point had been made.
I stood in the bedroom door and looked around. It was as if the entire room had been in a time warp. Absolutely nothing had changed. There were the two twin beds, both neatly made; The two desks where Kenny and I had studied; the model airplanes hanging from the ceiling, model cars placed neatly and lovingly on shelves. My eyes went back to the bed where Kenny and I had slept, and of course played, so many nights. The memories came flooding back.
"Charlie..." Kenny's voice snapped me out of my reverie, "If you don't want to be my lover any more that's ok, but... can we be friends?"
"We already are, Kenny. We've always been friends and we always will be." I felt my eyes tearing up again and was powerless to control them.
"I mean REAL friends, Charlie," Kenny went on, "I mean spend time together, study together, play together."
"Kenny," I said in almost a whisper, "Those things we did... well, I don't think I'm gay... I mean..."
"Look me in the eye and tell me you're sorry we did what we did," he ordered, "Tell me you find the idea disgusting. Tell me you wish all that had never happened."
I did look Kenny in the eye, and that was my downfall! Those eyes, those deep brown liquid eyes that had first stripped me of my resolve, my self control; those eyes had not lost any of their power. If anything, they had become more enticing, more powerful over me. Kenny made no move toward me, just stood there and looked at me, eyes unblinking, distinct signs of becoming filled with tears. I took him in my arms and whispered, "I can't do that, Kenny. What we did was... was so beautiful! But I ruined it! It can never be the same now. I hurt you so badly, and I fucked up what could've been so great!"
Kenny tore himself out of my arms in a fit of anger. "Charlie," he flared, "Will you please quit with the 'poor me' crap? You've been feeling sorry for yourself as long as I've known you, and it's getting real old! Shit man, you're so talented, so gentle, so... so full of love! You've had some pretty rough things happen to you, but look at you! You've got through it, Charlie! You've survived! You've got to put those things behind you and live your life! Look around you! No one feels that sorry for you because when others see you they see a very bright, talented guy who has had a pretty rough time and is doing just fine anyway. People admire you, Charlie! They don't feel sorry for you 'cause they wish they could be like you! Whether you admit it or not, you're one awesome dude! Yeah, I still love you as much as I ever did, but it's so much more than that. I want to be close to you no matter what, 'cause you're... you're..."
"A beautiful person?" a voice from behind me suggested. I snapped my head around to see Robbie standing in the doorway. "I heard it all," Robbie said as he shook my hand warmly, "You need to know, Charlie, that my lil brother has been miserable since you left. And it wasn't just because he had lost you, although that came into it too. But he was so worried about you, Charlie. I daresay he knows a lot more about what you've been up to than you think, and it's breaking his heart. And I might not admit this to everyone, but it's breaking my heart too! And Dad's and Mom's.
"You crazy little shit," he said, using a tone that only Robbie could get away with these days, "We all love you, Charlie! You told us once that you loved it here because you could feel the love; you said that this house reeked of love! What happened to that, Charlie? Where's your need for love? You may be ignoring it, but it's still there. And don't tell me you're not miserable too, 'cause I've seen it happen at college. Guys get into a depression and refuse the very thing they need the most - love! And caring! And help!"
Again I was reduced to tears as Robbie and Kenny both tore into me, telling it like it is. I was for the millionth time astonished by the love the two brothers had for each other, and they were trying their level best to share that love with me, each for his own reasons. I was so confused, so torn between my 'new life' as a cool motorcycle dude and the academic, musical, homosexual lover of Kenny the perfect male specimen.
Dinner with the Collins' was no easier for me. When Dad C. came home he hugged me affectionately just as the others had done. As we ate he began quizzing me about what had been going on in my life.
"How's your dad?" he asked.
"Fine," was the simple reply.
"And your step mom?"
"She's ok. They got married last December."
"How are you getting along with them?"
"Well, he doesn't beat me any more, just kinda ignores me. I guess I've disappointed him pretty badly. He wanted me to go to law school so bad, but I'll never make it now."
"Well that's good. Mom tells me you did well in school this year. Have you given any thought to where you want to go to college?"
"I'm... well, there won't be any college. I'm quitting school and going to work."
"I see. Do you have a job yet?"
"No, but I'll find one. I'll be 16 next month, so there should be no problems finding work."
And so it went. He didn't lecture me, only asked questions to which he already knew the answers, making me re-evaluate my life, causing me to reflect on all that had gone on and where we were now. After we finished eating I got up and began to help Mom Collins with the dishes. "I appreciate it," she smiled at me, "But not tonight. Tonight you're the prodical son, returned home again. Go sit with Kenny! Dad'll help me with the dishes."
"Thanks, Mom," Kenny said appreciatively, "C'mon, Charlie, let's go upstairs." I wasn't sure I wanted to, but Kenny was already on the stairs, so I followed. And Robbie followed me. In less time than it takes to relate, we were back in Kenny's room. I just stood there in a daze, looking again around me, at the room where we'd been so happy. Every instinct in me wanted to grab Kenny and drag him if necessary to the bed, but I resisted. After all, I wasn't like that any more. I was a cool cat, running with the big boys, done with school and about to start my lifetime of work - REAL work! Like delivering groceries, or building houses, driving trucks. There was no time in my life now for tenderness, for being real and honest, especially with myself.
"I just wanted you to know," Robbie said to me, "I never did move back in with Kenny. I got the feeling that he wanted to be alone if he couldn't be with you. So your bed's there, if you want it."
"So you're saying the only reason I came here was to get it on with Kenny?" I accused.
"I'm not saying that at all, Charlie. It crossed my mind that you guys haven't been together for a long time, but that's not why I said what I said. I just wanted you to know that we've all been waiting for you to come home."
"I AM home!" I countered. I was getting pretty defensive now, trying to set the record straight. "I'm living with my father where I should be."
"Are you?" Robbie challenged, "Well, if you're happy with the situation you're in, I'm glad. We're all glad!"
"Charlie," Kenny said softly, "You'd be doing me a big favor if you did stay over. There's so much I want to talk to you about. We don't have to sleep together, you can take your bed and I'll take mine."
"My bed?" I questioned, "My bed is at home, not here."
"You know what I mean, Charlie. Stay, please?"
I did stay that night. I resisted as long as I could, but Kenny's pull was just too strong. His family was so understanding, so much like my fantasies of what a family should be, my resistance melted and I agreed. I had objected that I didn't have pajamas, to which Kenny responded by producing a pair. I said that I was dirty and needed a bath, and Kenny announced proudly that his dad had just installed a shower so getting clean would be no problem. So I was trapped. Deep down I wanted to be trapped, but I wasn't about to admit it.
Kenny and I stayed in separate beds that night for about a half hour. Then Kenny said in his most enticing, most alluring tone, "Charlie, can you come over here, please? So we can talk?"
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I answered.
"We don't have to do anything, I just want to talk and I hate having to talk to you halfway across the room." Was he enticing me? I didn't think so. Was he trying to use what he knew was my killer attraction for his gorgeous body? Never! I knew Kenny wasn't like that. So again my resistance collapsed and I padded the three steps from my bed to Kenny's and crawled in.
I won't go into a lot of detail about what we talked about, what was said and what was thought, because I suspect you already know. We didn't have sex that night, but we did wind up with our arms around each other. "Tell me you don't love me any more," Kenny challenged, "And take my bracelet off. Then I can go on and know that it's really over."
"I don't know if I can do that, Kenny," I answered, "We've been together so long, worn those bracelets so long they're like a part of us. And we did have some good times, didn't we?"
"Yeah, we did," he agreed, "And I gotta ask you, Charlie, is the way you're living now better? Are you happy with the way things are going for you?"
"Things are ok," I responded. I was getting pretty uncomfortable and started looking for an opening to take my leave and go back to my own bed. "I got a bigger motorcycle, so I can go pretty well anywhere I please now."
"That's not what I asked you, Charlie. I want you to tell me that you're glad we broke up. Tell me you are better off because you left here."
Of course I couldn't do that. So I slipped my arm under his strong, lithe neck and hugged him. He responded by melting into me, wrapping his arms around me and going silent. And that's the way we went to sleep.
"Where in the world have you been?" my father asked two days later when I finally got home, "We've been worried about you. Did you get your final grade? How'd you do?"
"I did ok, I guess," I answered. "I stayed over with a friend," I explained, "we got to talking, and then it was too late to call." And that was the end of the third degree. He didn't seem to need to know any more about how I'd done than 'ok I guess,' so I didn't tell him any more. It wasn't important anyway, was it? I was getting a job and school for me was history!
It was Saturday, and that night I went out with Jack. We did our normal thing: get a little drunk, then pretend we were a lot drunk, and Jack's hands were all over me. But that night there was a difference. What had been a sort of neutral experience had become totally disgusting! I recoiled at his every touch, and incredible as it seemed, Jack could not get me hard! Every time I looked at him I saw Kenny. Every time I tried to touch him, I thought of Kenny's gorgeous body, and the beautiful person that lived there, and I wanted to throw up! Eventually Jack gave up. We continued our macho sexual do-it-to-any-girl talk, but there was no more physical contact. But I have to thank Jack, because that night, on a lonely road outside town, as we sat there drinking and getting totally wasted, I made up my mind.
""Kenny," I said into the phone, "Can we talk? I mean, can we get together?" It was just a little after nine on Sunday morning, and I had obviously got Kenny out of bed; but this couldn't wait.
"Well," a sleepy Kenny answered, "We're going to church, so why don't you meet us here after for lunch?"
"Now, Kenny! Please?"
"Okay," he said, "Just a sec."
I heard muffled voices in the background as Kenny covered the receiver and talked to his parents, and then he was back on the line. "Ok," he finally said into the phone, "Can you come over?"
"Right away," I answered, and hung up. After all my tough talking, all my drunks, all my efforts to show the world how impervious I was to their hurts, their caring, their love, I had decided what I wanted and needed, and no amount of talking or thinking could convince me otherwise. And I had to resolve it NOW!
"I did a lot of thinking last night," I said when we were seated in the Collins kitchen. Everyone had gone to church. Leaving Kenny and me alone. "I guess I don't have to tell you I got drunk last night, I mean really drunk."
"Yeah," Kenny answered uncomfortably, "It's kinda obvious. You were with Jack, right?"
Yeah, I was. Of course he tried messing around the way we've done so much but I just couldn't stand his hands on me, ya know what I mean?"
"I know, Charlie. But I doubt that you came all the way over here and kept me out of church to tell me about your night with Jack. What's going on, Charlie?"
"I'm tryin' to tell you. But it ain't easy, Kenny. What I'm trying to tell you is, I want to come back. I mean I want to be your friend, hang out with you, go places together..."
"And--?" Kenny said expectantly.
"And nothing. We had something so special, but I can't ask you to try that again. But just being close to you, like the other night sleeping with you, it has.... well, it's like going to the farm for me. It's so calming, so peaceful. You're a real special guy, Kenny, and I just want to be your friend."
There was a long pause. I was thinking I'd been too melodramatic, but it was really how I felt, and I hoped Kenny knew that. "I'm afraid that's not gonna work," he said finally. I was shattered, and more than a little surprised. I had thought that's what he wanted.
"Why not?" I asked, "It's not like I was asking to make love to you or anything, I just want to be a part of your life. Maybe it'll help me get mine back together."
"But Charlie," Ken said as he took my hand and fingered my bracelet -- OUR bracelet, "I WANT you to love me! I WANT you to make love to me! I don't want you to be a part of my life, I want you to BE my life!"
"I can't, Kenny, can't you understand that?"
"No I can't. Can you explain why you're here? Do you know any more about love than you ever did?"
"Love? Shit, Kenny, I don't think I know as much as I did a year ago. I don't know anything any more."
"Exactly! That's my point! You're confused, I'm confused... we don't know what the future holds, we both know we'd be far better off to find some nice girl and dance with her, take her to movies, eventually marry her and have half a dozen kids... but that's not me, Charlie! And I don't think it's you either. I think we belong together, man! And just so you know, I've never felt any other way since that first day we met at Ron's house."
Ron's house! Now there was a piece of ancient history. The last time I'd been there was less than a year ago, but it seemed like a millennium. But the mention of it did the trick. I remembered happier, more carefree times. At the time I'd thought it was the worst time of my life, with my mom sick and my dad and I hardly speaking; but now I realized that it was a lot better than I had now.
"Are you saying that you want me back? I mean, completely?"
"Well, Sherlock," Kenny said as a grin broke on his face, "You finally got it! So what's it gonna be? Do I get a kiss or not?"
Kenny got his kiss. Then another, and another. We just stood in the Collins kitchen, totally lost to the world as our lips, our tongues danced around each other. My arms were around his hard, broad shoulders and my mind was somewhere in Nirvana. Tears were streaming from our eyes and we were completely lost in time. There's no telling how long we stood there, but when we finally separated it was as if we'd never been apart. We looked at each other and started laughing; then crying; then laughing and crying at the same time.
"I got an idea," Kenny said suddenly, "You got any money?"
"A little," I said tentatively, "About a hundred bucks at home."
"Great! Let's go to our fishing camp for a couple days."
"Let's wait," I suggested, "I'm gonna be 16 in another three weeks, and we can have another birthday party."
"I turned 15 last week," he reminded me, "And I haven't had that honored yet!" Damn! I thought, and I accused my father of forgetting my birthday! Could I be getting just like him? "I'm sorry, Kenny," I said sheepishly, "I forgot. I didn't get you anything, or..."
"Yeah you did," he grinned, "You got me YOU! So what do you say?"
What could I say? I suggested that we go right away, but that we forget all the 'equipment' and just have some time alone. He thought that was a great idea, so he wrote a hasty note to his parents, we scrambled up to his room and packed some clothes, tied them on the bike and we were off, stopping on the way for my money. I got some strange looks when Kenny showed up on the back of the bike, but I ignored them, got my fortune and beat a hasty retreat.
We had little trouble renting the cabin. Although fishing season was still in full swing, the owner recognized us from last year and fit us in. To this day I don't know if he knew what we were up to, but I have to believe he had his suspicions, because we certainly had no fishing gear. But he remembered us as being "nice boys," and told us we could have the cabin until Tuesday morning. WOW! Two nights! We hurriedly signed his register and practically ran out the door, on the bike, and back to the cabin.
It was a beautiful June Sunday, with all the warmth of the summer coming, life springing up all around, but we didn't notice. When we were inside the cabin we were in each others arms again. My hands were all over Kenny, marveling at how much he'd grown and matured, at how steel hard his muscles had become in the past seven months, regretting that I hadn't had my arms around him for so long.
"I want you inside me" I gasped, "Please?"
Kenny didn't answer, but just started peeling my clothes. I did the same to him, and in a very short time we were standing facing each other, naked. "Wow!" I exclaimed, "Man, have you filled out! And all that hair!"
"Been saving it for you," Kenny answered with a smile, "Now do you want me to make love to you, or do you want to stand there and admire me?"
"Both!" I said with no hesitation. My little boy Kenny was gone, replaced with the most handsome young man I could ever dare hope for! He had a thick bush of coal black pubic hair, a very thin line running up to his navel; there was no hair on his chest, but he didn't need it. His muscles rippled everywhere and his chest formed a distinct triangle from hips to shoulders, which were so broad it was if they'd been sculpted out of solid granite. I was totally in awe of this beautiful creature, and that he wanted ME!
"Man!" he exclaimed as he tried to enter, "You're as tight as you were the very first time!"
"Well," I reminded him, "It's been a while. And you've grown quite a bit too." Indeed, I had grown very little, still around six inches while Kenny had to be at least seven. When he finally broke through I thought I would have a stroke, so intense was the pleasure! There was no pain at all, just the familiar feeling of fullness, and the joy of being coupled with one that I loved. "Go slow," I panted, "I don't want this to end for a long time!"
Kenny's face looked almost radiant as he gazed down at me, his body slowly and gently moving back and forth, his sex sliding slowly in and out of me. I was mesmerized by the intensity; it was probably my imagination, but I thought I felt his very heartbeat through our coupling. "This is so great, love!" he moaned.
"I love you, Kenny!" was all that I could say, so I said it over and over.
I felt a slight tremor course through Kenny's entire body, and then he lowered himself onto my chest as he began to ejaculate inside me. He stopped moving except for a slight twitching, our lips locked together. The feel of my insides being filled, the weight and heat of his body, the sensation of our tongues dancing together, took me over the edge and I was spasming too, filling all the cavities between our two bodies. I thought he would never stop as volley after volley filled my bowels. And then he was perfectly still. I whispered "I love you." one more time, but Kenny didn't hear me. He was sound asleep, still inside me albeit somewhat smaller and softer. Contented again at last. I fell asleep too.
It was late evening when I woke up. There were no lights on, and for a moment I didn't know where I was. When I remembered I immediately panicked, wonder where Kenny had gone. He was there, lying beside me, head propped up on one arm, just looking at me. "What are you doing?" I asked sleepily.
"Just watching you sleep," he answered, "Anyone ever tell you you're gorgeous when you sleep?"
"That's cause I'm so happy," I told him, "Kenny, I'm so sorry..."
"Me too," he interrupted, "So now lets just put it behind us, like it never happened."
"Just one more thing," I persisted, "I want you to know, I will never ever do that to you again. I mean cheating, leaving, everything! Never again, Kenny! You're stuck with me from here on in"
"You don't know how stuck," he laughed, "When I woke up our bellies were stuck together big time by all that glue you put between us." Saying that, we both laughed, hugged, kissed, and went back to sleep.
I awoke about seven the next morning. Kenny was gone, but someone had opened the shades to let the light stream in, had turned on a small radio softly, and someone was in the shower. I thought of joining him, but I was too comfortable, too content, to move! I just lay there thinking about nothing, really, except how relaxed I was, wishing this retreat would never end.
"About time you woke up," Kenny's cheerful voice came as the bathroom door opened, "Man, Charlie, you're somethin'!" He stepped into the room, still naked. His beauty took my breath away.
"Me?" I questioned, "It was you who screwed my brains out last night."
"I didn't screw you," he corrected, "I made love to you!"
"Well whatever you did, I can still feel it leaking out."
"I love you so much, Charlie!" he said, more seriously now.
"I love you too, Kenny! Life without you is just not..."
"Uh-uhhh!" Kenny said, pointing a finger at me, "No more of that, remember?"
"Well," I countered, "I'm without you right now aren't I?"
"Not for long," he said as he jumped on top of me on the bed. For the next few minutes we wrestled around on the bed, tickling, poking, giggling, just being boys. We could have been brothers, good friends, anything. But we weren't; we were lovers, and full of gratitude that we were together again.
We hopped on the bike after I'd had my shower and went down the road a few miles for breakfast. Then back to the cabin where we took a long walk along the river, just drinking in the beauty of the world around us and the excruciating happiness of being together. We got a few strange looks from fishermen along the river as we walked along, holding hands the whole time, but we didn't care. We stopped short of shouting to the whole world that we were together again, although the thought crossed my mind; but I would not be denied the constant touch that hand holding provided, no matter what the world thought.
In the afternoon Kenny got another idea. I swear he was so full of ideas, so creative! "Let's go get some groceries," he suggested, "And cook ourselves up a big dinner."
"I dunno," I said, always the pessimist.
"C'mon, Charlie! It'll be fun! And we've got a stove, pots and pans, dishes, everything!
Well, we did exactly that. I won't spend a lot of time describing the meal, because it was nothing special, just steak, baked potatoes, peas and spinach. Yes, Kenny and I had both been taught to like all veggies, including spinach! It was a real adventure for us, and everything turned out as well as we could want.
The smell coming from the cabin brought the owner, Mr McLean, wondering what was going on. I guess he never expected to see two teenagers cooking a meal. "You boys doing ok?" he asked when I answered the door.
"Doin' fine, sir," I answered, "Just cooking some supper. Would you like some?"
"No thanks," he said to my relief, because we only had two steaks. "I just thought it a little strange that you guys would be cooking. I wanted to check that you're all right."
"Never better," Kenny called from the stove.
"You guys been out fishing? I noticed you were gone all morning."
"No," I answered, "Just walking along the river."
"Thought so," he said pensively, "Fishing's a bit unusual for kids your age, unless your dad is along. So I guess you're just takin' a break after school?"
"Something like that," I said. He was obviously pretty nosy and wanted to know what was going on. I was content to let him wonder, but Kenny had other ideas.
"It's kinda a celebration," Kenny offered. I thought, for heaven's sake, shut the hell up! But he didn't.
"Oh?" the old man said, as if to invite more information.
"Yes, sir," Kenny went on, "We kinda had a falling out last fall and finally got it worked out. So we thought we'd come up here and just be by ourselves for a while."
"Really!" Mr. McLean said, "Musta been a serious falling out."
"Not really," Kenny went on, "But you know how us teenagers are, always making mountains out of molehills."
"I know exactly how teenagers are. And I know about you two too, Kenny." Oh fuck, I thought, what's he seen or heard? What's gonna happen now. My only comfort was that I saw the same panic in Kenny's eyes that I was feeling.
"I had a long talk with your father this morning," the old man continued, "He called to make sure you'd got here all right, and he told me what great friends you are, and how proud he is of you both. You were up here last year right?"
We both nodded guiltily.
"Well, I just wanted you guys to know I'm here if you need anything. You're two really great kids, and I'm real happy for you. Your dad is too, Kenny. I just wanted you to know. We just don't see friendship like that very often, and I got a soft spot for teenagers that are polite, and clean up after themselves."
He was a man of very few words, Mr. McLean. After he'd made his little speech he turned and left without another word. Kenny and I looked at each other, for once speechless.
"WOW!" Kenny finally exclaimed, "What the heck was that?"
"I think..." I pondered, "I think he wanted to tell us he likes us. Who would ever think, 'way out here?" From what he said it was very unclear if he knew the nature of our relationship or not, but we suspected that he knew it all.
"I dunno," Kenny said as he scratched his head, "But I'll take it. C'mon handsome, let's eat!" And so eat we did.
We awoke about Tuesday morning, about 6 AM, to a room full of full sunlight blazing through the windows. We'd been up until after 2:00 loving each other in various ways until we finally fell asleep, both thoroughly exhausted. Now we were content to just lie there and do what we did best, what we enjoyed best: just running our hands over each other's bodies, totally relaxed, totally at peace with the world.
"Charlie," Kenny said dreamily."
"Mmmm?" I answered, only half awake.
"Tell me about your mom?"
"What about her?" I snapped awake, not knowing what he was asking.
"I mean, you never talk about her. I know you were very close to her and loved her intensely, but you never ever talk about her. She's like some stranger to me, and I want to know her cause she was so special to you."
I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, and then I started to speak, but instead I began crying as I held Kenny, my Kenny, closer. "I can't," I said as the panic grew inside me, "I mean, Kenny... I can't remember! I can't remember how to describe her! I just can't remember!"
"Nothing?" He said with amazement.
"Almost nothing. Just a couple stupid things that happened, and that's all!"
"Tell me? Please?"
I didn't answer for probably five or ten minutes, just lay there and remembered, and searched my memory for more meaningful things to tell, but nothing would come. Finally I began to speak.
"I think I was 11 years old. Yeah, I'm sure, I was 11. I had just graduated from Cubs to Scouts. I was so proud of my uniform I could hardly wait till Friday night to wear it. I even had the hat, you know that Mountie hat that Canadian Scouts wear? My mom had scrimped and saved for months so she could buy it for me. It was about this time of year and I'd been to the Scout meeting and was on my way home. It was still light, but starting to get dark. There was a storm coming, I could hear thunder in the distance.
"Of course World War II was over, but still on everybody's minds, so my head was full of fantasies about how the Scouts had been called up to help the troops, shooting the enemy, helping wounded soldiers back to medic tents, that sort of thing. I wasn't 11 in my mind, I was 18, a warrior, and fighting for my country. I never really thought about it till right now, but I had fantasies even back then about taking clothes off other boys to treat their wounds. Weird, huh?
"When I came down the street where we lived, there was my mom sitting on the front porch, watching the storm coming. The dark clouds had made it quite dark by then, and it was starting to rain just a little bit. I remember taking off my hat I loved so much and saying 'Good evening, Ma'am, is everything all right?' She fell right into my fantasy and assured me that she was fine, and then as if by magic I was a little boy again. I crawled into my mom's lap and cuddled up to her, and we just sat there at watched the storm. I felt so warm, so safe, as the storm boomed and crashed all around us."
"Is that all?" Kenny said. I had started crying and Kenny had pulled me even closer.
"Only one other thing," I said as a memory I hadn't even thought of for years came flooding back. "When I was only 4 or 5, my mom was doing a lot of sewing. She never drove a car, so she and I had walked downtown so she could buy some sewing materials. It was Winter, and cold as hell! While she was looking at something I wandered into the section where they had a counter covered with all sorts of brightly colored threads and yarns, the kind they use for fancy embroidery and things. I thought they were so pretty, I took a handful of them and put them in my pocket.
"When we got home I went to my room, and when my mom found me I had these threads all spread out on the floor playing with them. I didn't have to tell her where I got them, she already knew. So she bundled me up in my coat and boots again. Kenny, it was in January and it was 20 below zero! But she marched me back to the store and made me take them to the clerk and tell her I'd stolen them and that I was sorry. I hated her so much for doing that! But I wish she could do it now, I would gladly go through that again if only she..."
"She made you what you are, Charlie," Kenny said gently as his hand wandered over my back, "She taught you music, reading, integrity, gentleness. She taught you how to be who you are," he said. "God, how I wish I could see her to tell her thank you for making you what you are!"
"But there are so many things, like sitting at the piano with her, birthday parties, her putting me to bed, making me wear diapers when I was five years old because I still wet my pants... I can't remember any of it, Kenny! I know it all happened, but I can't remember!"
"You will," he assured me, "But I'm getting the very clear feeling that I knew her just because I know you."
If I had known then what I know now, I'd have been astonished at his insight, how he'd reacted better than any counselor ever could; but at that time I had never even heard of such things as counselors, shrinks, whatever. All I knew at that point in my life was that telling Kenny these special stories, being held by him as I cried softly, was one of the most special moments in my life. Eventually we drifted off back to sleep and didn't wake up again till noon, and then we had to pack up, clean the cabin, and head for home.
Even more important, I felt better about myself just then. I was so comfortable in Kenny's arms, so content, I knew deep down that this could not possibly be wrong! I had the strangest feeling come over me... a feeling of assurance that Kenny and I, one way or another, would never be separated again.
If you like this story or have any comments or criticisms, please e-mail them to charlieje@mindspring.com. When I started this project I never dreamed it would get so long; but the more I type, the more I remember, the more I feel needs to be said. And to all who are patient enough to read it, a very hearty THANK YOU! It's very therapeutic to write down your feelings and experiences, especially when there are kind readers. Thanks again!