The following story is pure fiction. Though the places are real, all persons aren't. It contains descriptions of consenting sexual activities between teenage boys. If you are offended by this kind of material or, even worse, if you are easily bored by stories going beyond the bare necessities of sexual lovemaking, then do not read on. The third part doesn't even contain any sex scenes, at all. You have been warned. Readers in the U.S. please check with your local law enforcement agency if you are allowed to read this kind of material .
I do claim the copyright to the entire story. It may not be used for any commercial purposes. It may, however, be distributed freely through the Internet and all connected networks as long as this header and the story are not altered in any way.
This is my first story. It consists of three episodes, named 'Lucien', 'Lucien and Yannick', and 'Lucien and Jerome', all set in the North of France at the coast to the English channel, from where one can see England on a clear day. You'll find that there is no end to it, so far. I'm planning on a few more parts, though. Any comments, suggestions, or friendly words of encouragement will be most welcome.
..........................................................................
Lucien by RaCo
Lucien couldn't remember that it had ever been this hot - certainly not in late August. He had strolled along the beach but it was just too hot with the sun burning down and not the slightest breeze coming from the sea. The beach was packed with tourist families and Lucien hated the tourist season when the village youth couldn't have the beach all to themselves. So, he had retreated into one of the bunkers high up in the cliff - sitting in the shadow at the entrance of a narrow tunnel leading inside, hidden from the crowd on the beach by a large bush but still able to look out to the sea. He liked this place. He and his friends often came here for all kinds of adventures and explorations in the dark maze which criss-crossed the entire cliff, as his grandmother had told him. His grandfather had been forced by the Germans to help building it before they shot him for being in the 'Resistance'. Growing more audacious with every year, the children had explored quite a bit of it but had never even come close to venturing into the deepest parts where it was pitch-black and one was up to the knees in mud and water.
But, today, everything was plain boring. All his friends had left with their parents for the South of the country or Spain. His best friend, Yannick, had fallen from his bike, three days ago, and was in the Hospital at Saint Pierre with a bad concussion and a broken rib. So, the prospects for the remaining week of school holidays weren't too promising, and Lucien was in as depressed and bored a mood as one can be at the age of thirteen.
A rumbling noise from the sea announced the approach of the Hovercraft ferry from Dover. Normally, he and Yannick would have run down to the Hoverport, as they did so often, to watch it glide elegantly across the beach and on to the tarmac but the idea of doing so alone didn't appeal to him. And then, there was still this incredible heat and here was a slight but steady stream of cool air which came from deep down in the cave-like bunker structure.
He had never been separated from Yannick for longer than it took to get through a bad cold in winter and he had never imagined that he would miss him as much as he did now. Yannick was nearly a year older, almost half a foot taller, admirably strong and always fun to be with. He would certainly have suggested to go fishing or have come up with an idea for an adventure which would have taken them deep into the bunker where, now, Lucien wouldn't enter alone. He would be afraid, down there, alone in the dark. He was often afraid of all sort of things and Yannick would just laugh about this. The notion of fear seemed perfectly unknown to him, but he always had a word of encouragement for Lucien. Being with Yannick, everything was different.
Lucien thought of the package of 'Gitanes' cigarettes hidden beneath a stone, a bit further down in the bunker. Yannick had brought them, some days ago, and they had shared the first cigarette of their lives. Lucien didn't quite understand how the grown-ups could find any pleasure in inhaling thick smoke which made him cough and gave him a headache but Yannick had said that this was quite normal for the first time and that he would enjoy it after a few more.
Well, maybe today was the time to start enjoying it, especially as there was really nothing else to do.
He rose and walked down the tunnel to the short stretch where it got rather low and narrow because part of the ceiling had caved in, long ago, and he had to crawl on his hands and knees to get through. Only very little light from outside reached this part and he had to strain his eyes to find the stone behind a corner in the tunnel where they had put the cigarettes and a box of matches. Both were still there. He took one of the cigarettes and lit it. He wouldn't take it to the entrance as he knew that this was the time when Grandmother walked the dog along the beach and he certainly didn't want to be caught smoking. The smoke was bitter and he just puffed it and didn't try to inhale it, anymore. Still, the taste was awful, it made him feel dizzy and he wasn't enjoying it, at all.
He was about to throw the remaining half of the cigarette away and get out of the darkness again, when he heard the sound of steps coming from the entrance and he instinctively froze. Someone had apparently walked into the tunnel and was now standing a few steps inside. Lucien thought that it would be wiser not to be detected.
Hoping that he would not be seen back in the dark, he cautiously looked around the corner to find out who was there. It was a boy, a few years older than himself, maybe 15 or 16, whom he had never seen before - probably a tourist. Lucien didn't like the tourist boys very much. Most of them were from Paris or the other large cities and they bored him with their talking about how rich their parents were and all the wonderful things they had at home.
The boy was standing there and looking in Lucien's direction without seeing him. Lucien knew now that he was safe as long as he didn't make any noise and that he could go on watching what the intruder was up to. Still facing towards Lucien, the other boy pulled down the shorts he was wearing and peed on the floor holding his dick upwards in an apparent effort to reach as far as he could. Then he pointed it to the left and right to hit the wall on both sides. Lucien noticed that the boy's dick was so much bigger than his own and still quite a bit longer than Yannick's which he had occasionally caught a glimpse of when they were showering after a soccer game. Also, there was a lot of hair above the boy's dick. Last time when they had gone swimming, he had noticed that Yannick was having a few hairs at this spot and again he wondered why he didn't have any himself. Also, Yannicks voice had become a lot deeper, lately, while his own would only crack, at times. This made him sound like a cartoon character and he hated it.
He was getting a bit uncomfortable but he didn't dare to move as he was afraid that any noise might reveal his presence. The other boy had finished peeing and Lucien hoped that he would go away so that he could come out of his hiding.
But, instead, the boy was thoroughly inspecting his dick, twisting it in all directions and pulling the foreskin back to uncover a head which, at least by Lucien's standards, was enormous. Then, he turned his attention to his balls weighing each one in his hand and squeezing it. Lucien didn't quite know what to make of this. He was feeling more and more awkward in his hiding - but then again he was watching with increasing interest as he had never had a chance to have such a prolongued look at another boy's private parts, let alone with someone who, without knowing, made sure that he got to see every bit of them.
The boy's hand had now returned to his dick and was slowly pulling the foreskin back and forth, each time revealing this big head. And, to Lucien's amazement, the boy's dick grew bigger and bigger. Now, he let his shorts slide all the way down and took off his T-shirt, standing there naked with nothing on but a pair of sneakers and the shorts down at his ankles. He was still stroking his dick which had now grown immensely and looked very rigid. Lucien had recently found that his own dick would be stiff, at times, especially when he woke up in the morning, but he hadn't given very much thought to this. Still, there seemed to be something to it, as the boy was visibly enjoying what he did, and the rubbing on his dick caught up more speed while he was squeezing his balls with the other hand when he wasn't using it for playing with his nipples.
Lucien realized that this might have something to do with a thing called wanking which the olders boys of the village used to joke about while shaking a hand in front of their crotch in a way which he had never quite understood. He was now really fascinated by what he saw and he noticed a tickling back in his throat which he would normally have while watching a particularly thrilling film. But it wasn't only this, it was also the effect of the cigarette and, before he could help it, he was coughing. The boy immediately startled, pulled up his shorts, grabbed his shirt, and ran out of the bunker.
After a moment, Lucien, still coughing, made his way back to the entrance and saw the boy run down to the beach with the T-shirt still in his hand, once turning around shortly and looking towards him. He cursed the cigarettes and pledged to himself never to touch one again in all his life. Somehow, he sensed that he had missed something - that there would have been an experience which, now, he wasn't going to know about.
. . .
The next day was just as hot as the days before. In the morning, Lucien had been told to accompany Grandmother on the bus to the Hypermarche and help her carry the heavy shopping bags back home.
Later in the afternoon, the air turned increasingly heavy and humid. Dark clouds were hanging above the sea and Lucien hoped that there would be a thunderstorm to cool down the air. With Yannick around, he loved to watch thunderstorms from the safety of the tunnel. Without him he would never have done this as, alone, he was frightened by the lightning and the rolling echo of the thunder from deep down in the bunker.
But the storm seemed still a good while ahead and, somehow, Lucien was drawn up into the cliff to his favourite spot. He sat down at the entrance and looked down at the sea where a number of large freight-ships were slowly moving along. He thought of the fun he would have with Yannick once they would have grown up and would both be fishermen as their fathers. They had promised to each other that they would always make sure to be working on the same boat so that they would never be separated.
Right in the middle of his thoughts, he heard footsteps approaching and when he peered through the bush in front of him, he saw the boy walking towards him. He immediately realized that the boy was already too near for himself to get away down to the beach. So, he retreated into the bunker and once again into the dark corner behind the caved-in section of the ceiling. He wouldn't admit to himself that he had been waiting for this to happen but he could feel his heart beat in anticipation of what he would be seeing. And he would certainly leave the cigarettes alone...
As soon as Lucien had reached his hideaway, he could hear the boy's steps as he walked into the tunnel. He came a lot nearer, just a few steps ahead of the narrow passage, but Lucien felt safe in his corner and, cautiously looking around the edge, he could see the boy pull down his shorts. This time, he took them off completely, then the T-shirt came off, and even the sneakers. The boy was peeing, again. But today, his dick was already nearly as big as after all the stroking the day before, and it seemed to be taking him quite an effort to pee at all, judging from the strained expression on his face. Lucien again noticed the tickling in the back of his throat, but today he was sure that it came from the thrill of the situation. The boy had finished peeing and stood facing in Lucien's direction while he began stroking his dick which quickly grew to its full size. Lucien felt his own dick getting stiff and it ached a bit, having got entangled within his underwear. But he didn't dare move to free it for fear of disturbing the other boy once more and thus robbing himself of a chance to finally find out what would happen.
The boy was meanwhile turning in all directions and finally, facing towards the entrance, bent forward to reveal his buttocks and another nest of hair at the spot where Lucien suspected the hole. He grabbed his balls and his dick and pushed them backwards through his legs so that the head of the dick looked out right in the middle between the two big balls. Then, he wiped the tip of his dick with one finger and stuck it into his mouth while rubbing his dick with the other hand. Now, he turned back in the direction of Lucien and slowed down the stroking until it came to a halt with the foreskin pulled all the way back and the head shining as if it were wet. Lucien had to think of a Western which he had seen and the scene where the hero stood right in front of the saloon, filmed with the camera pointing upwards from the ground, so that he looked unnaturally tall. Only that it wasn't a gun the boy was holding in his hand. Just as Lucien began to wonder whether the boy might possibly be doing all this knowing that he was not alone, the boy called out to him.
"Now, come out of there. I know that you are watching me." Lucien's heart missed a beat. '...watching me...' said the echo from deep down in the bunker. In spite of the intense heat, he felt cold and he now found that he was soaking wet from his sweat with his T-shirt and his shorts sticking to his body.
"Come here, will you? I've seen you rushing inside when I came here." Lucien didn't know how to react. Should he run further down into the bunker? He had never been down there alone. And, somehow, he felt as if all force had been drained from his legs. He knew that he wouldn't be able to run away from a boy who was two or three years older and quite a bit stronger. He was trembling and he wished that Yannick could be with him - he would have known what to do.
"Come out of there... or I'll come and get you," the boy said. '... get you ...' the echo answered. Lucien had to clear his dry throat before he could speak, "Ok, but only if you'll promise not to beat me up. Swear it!" "Well, I swear not to beat you up - that enough?", the boy answered. "And you won't hurt me in any other way, either?". Lucien was still not convinced. "No, I won't do anything to you," came the answer. "Swear it!" "I swear it!" "Or you shall drop dead on the spot?" "Or I shall drop dead on the spot. Now come on, you coward!"
No boy at the age of thirteen likes to be called a coward even if he is shaking with fear, and neither did Lucien. So he slowly came out of his hiding and crept through the narrow part of the tunnel. He rose again and stood in front of the naked boy. From this distance, his dick looked even bigger and it seemed so hard. Lucien couldn't take his eyes away from it.
"You like what you see?", the boy asked with what sounded to Lucien like a slightly threatening undertone. "Ah.. err.. sure, yes, I do...," Lucien stammered, not at all prepared for this kind of question. "Well, I want to see yours, too." the boy said. Lucien's own dick was stiffer than it had ever been and it was still trapped and aching but he felt unable to do or say a thing. He knew he would eventually have to obey the boy and drop his shorts in front of him, and he was afraid because his was so small and there was no hair.
"Now, look.. This is not fair. You've had your chance to have a good look at me, now I want the same from you. And I won't hurt you. There's no need to be afraid." The boy's voice now sounded calm and comforting. '... no need to be afraid', this time, the echo came from within Lucien's head and he began to feel a bit more reassured. This was what Yannick used to say when they were in a situation where Lucien would rather want to retreat.
He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't manage to say a word. Instead, he merely nodded his head, unable to look up at the boy's face.
The boy moved a step forward and was now standing so close that the tip of his dick almost touched Lucien. He went down on his knees, undid the buttons on Lucien's shorts, and slowly pulled them down together with the underwear. Once it was free, Luciens dick sprang up and stood rigidly away from his body, pointing up into the air. The boy grabbed each of Lucien's ankles and made him step out of his clothes and the sandals which he wore on his bare feet. The boy's hands moved slowly up along the outer sides of Lucien's legs, then over his buttocks until they reached the lower edge of his T-shirt. Still moving on, they took it with them and as they reached his armpits, the boy stood up and Lucien raised his arms to let him pull the shirt over his head.
Lucien, now as naked as the boy, was still slightly shivering - no longer for fear but because of the excitement which he felt rising within himself. He had never been so aware of his own body. He looked down at himself and although his dick was a lot smaller than the boy's, his chest was nicely formed, his legs were firm and there wasn't a single hair on his entire body. Through his erection, his foreskin had slipped a little way backwards, and the tiny head of his dick peeked out at the tip.
"Now, this may not be too far developed," the boy said looking down at Lucien, "but it seems to be working alright. Let's find out what we can do with it."
He sat down on the floor and rested his head and his shoulders against the wall. He patted the ground to his left and nodded towards Lucien to sit next to him. Lucien did as he was told and noticed the strange sensation of the warm concrete against his bare buttocks. The boy moved over until their sides were in close contact. At first, Lucien wanted to move away, but then he quickly realized how good it felt to have the boy's warm body touching his own. The boy put his left arm around Lucien's shoulders and, for an instant, he felt the urge to rest his head on the boy's chest but resisted it. He still looked at the boy's dick which stood all upright, big and powerful with its large red head half uncovered and it reminded him of the big old lighthouse at the other end of the cliff.
"Want to touch it?", the boy asked. There was no answer. He took Lucien's right hand and guided it towards his big dick, closing the fingers around it. It felt hot and very rigid but the skin was smooth and soft. The boy began moving Lucien's hand up and down the shaft.
"Ah, this feels great...", the boy said, "You've ever done yourself?" "I have what?", Lucien managed to ask. "Wanked your dick?", the boy replied with noticeable astonishment. Lucien shook his head. So this was it, then... wanking... the older boys' jokes.
The boy released the grip on Lucien's hand and encouraged him with a gesture to go on rubbing his dick. The boy's hand reached over and closed around Lucien's dick. He gave the little organ a few caressing strokes. It went stiff as a bone and Lucien liked the feeling. Each time the foreskin was pulled back, the head appeared like a tiny red cherry. Now, the boy's hand went down to his legs and when it caressed the inner sides of his thighs, this sent shivers of pleasure through Lucien's entire body. The hand moved up to his balls and squeezed each one slightly. Lucien felt that they were responding, too, as if they were getting bigger.
Then, he watched his balls and his dick almost disappear together in the boy's fist and he was gently stroked, again. The sensation was new and unknown to Lucien, but also sweet and incredibly pleasant. The boy's left hand, which had until now rested on Lucien's left shoulder, caressed his chest. His nipples had also changed and they where standing out. Each time the fingers touched them, this caused the well-known tickling in the back of his throat but now stronger than he had ever known it.
By now, Lucien had relaxed completely and he was enjoying the situation without the slightest reservation. He closed his eyes and didn't even notice that his head had sunk on to the boy's shoulder. And, unconsciously following the rhythm of the hand giving him so much pleasure, he went on rubbing the boy's dick as he had been instructed.
And then, the intensity of all those wonderful feelings increased in an unexpected and totally overpowering way. All he knew was that his dick was being stroked faster and faster. His heart was hammering in his ears, his was breathing fast and heavily and then, there was this breathtakingly intense sensation in his dick, his buttocks rose from the floor without his control and he felt waves of pleasure emanating from his dick and spreading through every single part of his body.
When all this slowly subsided, Lucien had lost any notion of time. He was lying there, exhausted and sweaty but as peaceful and at ease with himself and the world as he had never been before. He surely had never known something so beautiful in all his life. If this was wanking, he couldn't understand why the village boys made nasty jokes about it. This should be celebrated with Champagne, candles, and a cake.
The hand released his dick, reached for his head, and drew it down on to the boy's chest. Lucien felt a gentle kiss on his hair. When he opened his eyes, he saw the boy's dick, now soft but still quite big, lying in a small puddle of a white liquid. He also noticed some drops of it on his own body and around them on the floor.
"What is the white stuff?", he asked. "It's my sperm.", the boy said, "You don't have any yet, but you seem to have the most incredible orgasms and you'll find, you'll be shooting some out of your dick, before too long. Once you have started to grow hair above it, that is." "When will this be?", Lucien wondered. "Oh, I guess it won't take that long anymore. Maybe a year or even less. It doesn't happen overnight, you know...", the boy replied, "...you'll easily enough recognize the hair and the first time something squirts out when you're doing yourself." "You mean ... I can do this to myself ... all alone?", Lucien asked. The boy had to laugh. "Sure you can, stupid. What do you think I was going to do here, yesterday?" "And... doing it alone... will it be as great as it has been with you, right now?" "Maybe not quite as much...", the boys voice sounded a bit sad, "...but still, you'll like it. And you'll find other people to do it with."
All of the sudden, the tunnel was lit by a very bright light followed by a deafening crash of nearby thunder and a most frightening echo from further down the maze. Both boys jumped to their feet. The storm had finally broken loose, outside. The boy went to the entrance and startled. "Heavens, it's almost dark and I'll be late for dinner." He returned and immediately began putting on his clothes. "Will you come here again, tomorrow?", Lucien asked. The boy was lacing up his sneakers. "I'm afraid I won't. We're leaving for home, tomorrow... right after breakfast." Lucien felt a big lump build up in his throat. The boy rose and saw the sadness in his face. He walked over and took him in his arms. Lucien couldn't help a little sob escaping his throat while the boy stroked his hair. "I am sorry, but I have to run or there will be another row with my father.", the boy's voice was very sad, now. He kissed Lucien on the forehead and then turned away and ran out of the tunnel.
Not bothering about his nakedness, Lucien followed him to the entrance, but the boy was already rushing down the cliff. "I don't even know your name.", Lucien shouted into the noise of the elements. He could hear that there was an answer but it was carried away by the wind and ripped to pieces by another crash of thunder. "I don't even know your name...", he repeated, but only to himself, and big tears were running down his face.
LUCIEN AND YANNICK by RaCo
"I don't even know your name," Lucien repeated over and over in between his sobs, slowly shaking his head. Even the storm which was still raging outside didn't make it into his conscience, anymore. He was sitting at the entrance to the tunnel, where everything had begun, still naked, his head resting on his knees, and, for the first time in his young life, Lucien felt he just wanted to die - not that he knew too well what this really meant, but he was sure that, now that he had known this ultimate pleasure, there could be nothing waiting which he might want to know about.
He was abruptly stirred out of his agony by a blinding light which was immediately followed by the most terrifying crash of thunder the force of which all but knocked him over. He felt the entire cliff tremble and he could hear small bits of concrete fall from the ceiling. In a state of sheer panic, he jumped up, grabbed his clothes, darted out of the tunnel and half ran, half fell down the cliff while trying to dress at the same time, the tears in his eyes reducing his vision to a mere blur.
When he eventually arrived at his house, he wouldn't have been able to say how he had gotten there. He rushed up to his room and fell face down on to his bed. His clothes and his hair were soaking wet, his T-shirt was torn, his right knee and his left elbow were bleeding, but Lucien didn't notice any of this. He lay there sobbing and shaking until, after a while, he drifted off into sleep.
. . .
Three days later, Yannick was released from the hospital. His rib had turned out to be not as bad as the doctors had thought and the effects of the concussion had vanished soon. All that remained were a few bruises. And so, he had something in common with Lucien who, with the exception of the still visible marks on his knee and elbow, had also recovered from his most horrible night.
On the following afternoon, Yannick was allowed outside, again, by his mother. With the weather nice and reasonably warm, the boys had gone down to the beach. They had climbed over the fence of the Hoverport, had soon been spotted by the people in the control tower and had been shouted at over the Tannoy to leave the premises immediately.
Now, they were aimlessly wandering about at the foot of the cliff. Yannick seemed in some kind of a pensive mood which was quite untypical for him and Lucien attributed this to the last effects of Yannick's accident.
Lucien hadn't returned to the beach, since the notorious night and he hadn't told Yannick anything about it, with the exception of a vague explanation for the bruises. Not that he wouldn't have wanted to. But he certainly wouldn't be able to tell him about the boy and he was afraid of being laughed about when he'd speak of the events relating to the thunderstorm. Presently, he was just happy to have Yannick back with him and he became suddenly aware that he was very much like what Lucien had always been missing - an older brother.
"Say, you know whether the 'Gitanes' are still up there?", Yannick asked from the left. "They were there, four days ago," Lucien responded, immediately biting his lower lip. "So, you've been at them, in the meantime. Did you like it, then? Tell you what... let's move up and have one." Yannick almost shouted the last sentence with regained energy in his voice. In Lucien, this 'tell you what...' immediately produced the feeling that normal routine had just been re-established. 'Tell you what...' was Yannick's usual opening for all kinds of adventures and undertakings.
Yannick ran up the cliff and Lucien had trouble following him. When they arrived inside the tunnel, there were bits of concrete lying on the floor and a few small cracks in the ceiling. "You've noticed the Allies returning here, during the last week?", Yannick mused. "No, that's been a lightning strike." And Lucien told the first half of the story - well, actually the second half. The first half would have to wait, if it were to be told at all. Yannick followed Lucien's slightly edited account open-mouthed. "Poor little boy. But what in the world got you, of all people, here, in a thunderstorm?" Lucien's brain went into overdrive. He wasn't used to having secrets in front of Yannick. Soon enough, he came up with a story of having smoked a cigarette in the rear part of the tunnel and not been able to run home because of the torrential rain, so he had considered it wiser to sit out the storm when the lightning struck. He deliberately spiced his account with descriptions of his horror which made the entire concoction sound quite plausible.
"You're definitely growing up, mate," was Yannick's final comment before he went down on his hands and knees to enter into the rear section of the tunnel with Lucien behind him. The cigarettes were soon found and Yannick held the package out to Lucien. "No, I'd rather not," Lucien explained, "But I'll stay with you if you like." "Well, maybe I should have brought something not quite as strong for the younger ones," Yannicks teased as he brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it.
Not a word was spoken while Yannick smoked, actually inhaling most of the time. Both boys were sitting on the floor, opposite each other, their backs leaned against the wall. Lucien's mind began to wander back to the last time, when he had been at this place. And, for the first time, the memory of his pleasure with the boy became stronger than that of his fright in the storm. He had not yet tried to repeat the experience on his own and he began to wonder how Yannick might react when he would approach him with the idea. To his own astonishment, the mere thought made something stir up in his shorts and within less than a minute, he was having a hard-on.
Yannick had dropped the end of his cigarette and had apparently sunk into deep contemplation of the smouldering rest lying on the floor in front of him while Lucien was pondering if and how to bring forward his desire to share this new knowledge with his best friend. If he had enjoyed it himself, why shouldn't Yannick? But, as much as he tried, Lucien couldn't think of an easy way to tackle the delicate subject. Apart from the odd joke, some of which they had only heard from other boys and didn't even quite understand, they had never really talked about such matters. He looked over at Yannick, who had a strange smile on his face and seemed to return from very far away.
"Tell you what... I may have something to show you," Yannick said with an odd note in his voice. "Oh, do you?" Lucien replied absently, still too preoccupied with his own thoughts and not really wanting to be interrupted in his search for a suitable opening. "I had quite some fun with the other boys in our room at the hospital and I thought, you might like this, too. Then, on the other hand...", Yannick went on, "if you don't like the cigarettes... you might still be a bit young for that, as well..."
Lucien immediately felt the familiar tickling in the back of his throat and the surprise was fully his. Still, he didn't want to reveal too much of his own experience, and he decided to act as innocently as he could manage. "I don't think I'll ever like smoking. So you might as well tell me now." "Well, I... I mean...", for the first time Lucien saw Yannick lost for words, "...oh, never mind... I guess, you wouldn't like it, anyway." Clearly, something had to be done quickly or, for once, it would be Yannick to lose his guts. A quick look over to the other side confirmed what Lucien had hoped to see - a noticeable bulge in Yannick's jeans. Lucien got up, turned against the wall on his side, ripped open the buttons of his shorts and released his dick. The peeing-trick had worked quite well on himself, after all...
Little did he know that most men can't pee with a hard-on and he was no exception. After a moment of trying unsuccesfully, he began to gently stroke his dick, put on his most friendly smile and slowly turned around. Yannick's jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide.
"Is it this you wanted to show me?", Lucien asked with the most innocent expression of a six year old standing right next to a broken window pane. Slowly, Yannick regained his composure. "Well... I couldn't know that you... I mean, you never told me." "Nor did you."
Lucien went over to Yannick, sat down to his right, put his head on to his friend's shoulder and slowly stroked his own hard-on. He liked the feeling but something was lacking... "Are you going to remain like this?", he looked down at the big bulge in Yannick's jeans. "Surely not...", Yannick was still visibly surprised by this unexpected turn of events, "you want me to do it for you?" Instead of an answer, Lucien took Yannick's hand and guided it to where he had wanted it for the last twenty minutes.
"You like it," Yannick asked after a while. "Oh, certainly a lot more than your cigarettes. What about yours, then?" Yannick tried to open the button and zipper of his jeans with his left hand - something not quite as easy if one is sitting and doesn't want to stop helping one's best friend at the same time. "Oh, come on, move down a bit and I'll give you a hand." Lucien had already changed into a half lying position. He undid Yannick's fly and with his help, managed to pull the jeans down together with the underwear.
He knew that Yannick's dick was bigger than his own, but he had never seen it erect. And what he saw there made him swallow. A beautiful large dick with a heavy foreskin which, even now, still covered the entire head. The last time he had seen Yannick naked in the showers, there had been a few hairs above but, meanwhile, he had grown hair all around it and there was even some on his balls. Lucien reached over, and began to stroke it gently.
"Yeah, that's great." Yannick moaned. "Shouldn't we get rid of our clothes?", Lucien wanted to be able to give his best friend as much pleasure as he could. "You mean, all of them?" "Yes, sure. This is how it's done, isn't it?" "Well, usually... ", Yannick seemed a bit uneasy, "I just pull down my pants and do it." "You just rub your dick until you...", Lucien couldn't believe it. This was very much like Yannick. He was a wonderful buddy, but the word refinement was sadly lacking from his vocabulary. "Take your things off and I will show you how to feel really good."
After a thoughtful pause, Yannick began to peel out of his shirt and took off his jeans. Lucien had undressed as quickly as never before. He took his time to admire his friend's body, his broad shoulders, the strong arms, the muscular chest with those nice big nipples, his firm tummy with the beautifully formed muscles and the deep navel, this really big dick with dark hair all around, the two heavy balls below and his slender and powerful legs. He even discovered that a boy's feet can look attractive, especially Yannick's with those long toes.
Lucien's heart filled with friendship and tenderness and he remembered everything the other boy had done with him. He took Yannick's balls in his hand and caressed them with his thumb. He ran his hand along Yannick's thighs which had a fine coat of hair. And he returned to the object of his greatest desire. From the reaction of Yannick's dick, it was clear that he enjoyed all this, but he didn't say a word. His hand had returned to Lucien's dick and he was stroking it fast and with a painfully tight grip. Lucien reached down to Yannick's hand. "You're almost crushing it. And slow down a bit... Now, that's better."
His head had returned to Yannick's shoulder and Lucien felt as happy as never before. Sure, it had been great with the other boy, but that was nothing compared to doing it with the person he liked more than anyone else - his friend Yannick. Lucien put his hand on Yannick's chest and, for the first time, he realized how much it excited him to feel the warmth of the firm muscles. Both boys had begun to breathe more heavily and light sweat made their bodies shine. Lucien learnt that even this added to the sensation. He liked the smell of Yannick's slightly sweaty body and he soaked in the distinct smell of his hair.
Lucien noticed Yannick's entire body going very tense. His chest and tummy were as hard as a plank. Lucien was turned on by the force he could feel in this beautiful boy. Every single muscle on Yannick's legs now looked as if it had been chiseled out of the finest marble. His breathing had gone fast and flat. A slight shiver went through him and then Lucien felt his friend's dick turn as rigid as steel. A big stream of cum shot out of it and landed on Lucien's left hand, still on Yannick's chest. The next one landed straight on Lucien's cheek. And that was when Lucien lost track of the remaining action as his eyes went out of focus and his own climax made him lose any sense of what was going on around him. This wonderful force had returned to his dick. It was as if it were going to pop off. An incredibly powerful sensation shot through his loins. Little cries of pleasure came from his open mouth. And then he felt like drifting up on a warm fluffy cloud while the most beautiful feeling spread all over his body.
As he slowly returned to reality, Lucien wouldn't have been the least bit astonished to open his eyes and find himself surrounded by a group of little angles on a large green meadow. Instead, it was still the bunker with Yannick at his side, but to Lucien, this surely was heaven and angels enough. Well, one angel, actually, but what a beautiful one and what could heaven hold on offer after this? He cuddled up against Yannick's side, rested his head on his friend's chest and hugged him close. Again, Lucien felt tears well up in his eyes, but these were tears of joy and relief.
"Yannick...", Lucien felt another surge of tenderness inside him, just by pronouncing his name, "...did you like it?" "Sure, but it's getting uncomfortable, down here." He shook Lucien's arms off, stood up and turned away. "Ugh, shit... You've got a cleenex?" But Lucien wasn't yet so well equipped for this kind of situation. Instead, Yannick grabbed his slip and vigorously wiped his front with it before he stuffed it into his pocket and put the rest of his clothes on.
When he had finished dressing, he turned around and saw Lucien still naked on the floor. "You going to stay? I think it's time we make a move." Lucien rose and dressed slowly. He began to sense the change in Yannick's behaviour. As soon as Lucien had put everything on, Yannick walked off towards the entrance. Just before the two boys went outside, Lucien grabbed his friend's arm and held him back. "Anything wrong, Yannick?" "No, why?" Lucien went up on his toes and kissed Yannick's cheek. He instantly frowned when he saw Yannick look at him in amazement and disgust. "Move on, now, and wipe this mess off your face!" Lucien had completely forgotten about the last moment before he had drifted off into the greatest pleasure and he wiped a big spurt of Yannick's cum from his right cheek.
Yannick turned into the direction of the village and didn't say a word until the two boys arrived in front of his parents' house. Without looking at Lucien he muttered something which sounded like 'See you tomorrow...' and disappeared inside.
. . .
On the next day, Yannick behaved as if nothing at all had happened. The two boys had gone to Boulogne to buy a few things for school, which was to begin in two days. On the way back Yannick suggested to go for a smoke and Lucien was quite sure that this was exactly what he meant.
They arrived at the bunker, went inside, and Yannick had a cigarette without even sitting down. When he had finished it, he didn't make any move to leave and Lucien's hopes rose. He was having a hard-on since the moment when they had arrived and there was an unmistakeable bulge in the gym shorts which Yannick was wearing. Still, Lucien didn't want to start anything before he could be certain that this was what Yannick was after.
Yannick gave him an odd glance, "Wanna do it?" What a question! Lucien felt as if a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders, "Yeah, sure." And he settled down on the floor. Yannick did likewise and pulled his dick out through one leg of his shorts. "You do mine 'n I do yours?", Yannick asked. "Sure... just a second...", Lucien was pulling his T-shirt over his head. But Yannick stopped him, "There's no need to undress. Just a quick wank and that'll do." A bucket of icy water couldn't have had more of an effect on Lucien and his dick went soft. But then he realized that he had nothing to claim from Yannick and so he just allowed himself the luxury of leaning his head on his friend's shoulder. They brought each other to a quick climax before Yannick swiftly made them move on.
. . .
School had begun, autumn came quickly and was just as void of any remarkable events as the winter that followed. Lucien spent half of the day in school and the remaining half with Yannick or with his grandmother. He saw very little of his mother who had taken on a job in a restaurant kitchen which made her leave by noon and return after he had gone to bed if she returned at all. He couldn't remember when he had last seen his father who had joined the crew of a big trawler which did two-week journeys way up North. And in between those journeys, he would spend his days at the 'Brasserie du Nord'. When he eventually came home, late at night, Lucien would often be woken up by his parents shouting at each other, downstairs.
But to say that nothing of any interest happened in Lucien's life wouldn't be true, either. He soon discovered the first hair sprouting out above his dick. Then there was a second one and Lucien had the impression that his dick had also grown a bit. So, he took up measuring its length, once every week, and logging the progress on the last page of his maths exercise book. By Easter, it had grown by almost an inch and he had given up counting the hairs, as there were just too many, by then. He noticed too late that his balls had also grown and he regretted not having measured them earlier to record their growth, as well.
Almost every day on the way home from school, he and Yannick would stop at the bunker 'for a smoke'. Lucien had accepted that they went there with different ideas - Yannick for quick sexual relief and he for something more. He had tried a few times to break the simple routine of a quick wank but Yannick had made it quite clear that he was not into this kind of thing.
On the 4th of April, a date quite easy to remember for Lucien, as it was exactly a week after his 14th birthday, they had as usual 'gone for a smoke' and, for the first time, Lucien had an ejaculation. On this afternoon, Lucien went to the village's small supermarket. He returned home with a plastic bag, sneaked up into his room, locked the door, and celebrated the event with the candles, the cake, and the tiny bottle of Champagne which he had bought himself.
Much of Yannick's and his free time was spent at the Youth Centre at the harbour in Boulogne, which was only a twenty minutes walk away from their homes - a walk which had the added benefit of having the bunker on the way. The youngsters were offered all kinds of activities there, and one of the main attractions was a disco 'night' on Saturdays which began at 5 p.m. and ended at 9 p.m., at the latest. Especially Yannick was particularly keen on these events as he had begun to discover girls.
Lucien, on the other hand, dreaded these Saturday nights, as girls were certainly the last thing which interested him and for him it meant sitting in a corner of the dimly lit room, which had been decorated with a few paper flowers and the odd poster, while watching Yannick dance with a girl to the sound of terribly distorted music from a hopelessly overdriven stereo system complemented by the two coloured bulbs of the 'lightshow'.
Spring had set in very soon this year, and in early May, there were the first days with nice and warm weather. On Saturday night, they were off to the Youth Centre again, and Yannick had postponed their stop-over at the bunker until their return from town. Lucien had been sitting alone in his corner, and he would certainly have been as bored as on all the other occasions if there hadn't been this boy around. He was older than Lucien, maybe 16 or 17, about his size and a real beauty with curly brown hair, tight-fitting white jeans, a yellow T-shirt, a fine gold chain around his neck, and a kind of leather bracelet around his right wrist. He had to be doing a lot of sport, as his well- trained body looked even better than Yannick's who, until now, had been Lucien's absolute reference as an attractive boy. And the boy had been dancing alone, all the time - not humping around like the other youngsters but spinning and swirling around with an elegance which Lucien had never seen. Every now and then, one of the girls danced up to him, and he would smile at her and then dance away to the other side of the room. Lucien couldn't take his eyes off him and his attraction grew with every minute.
Somewhat later in the evening, someone had smuggled in a few bottles of spirit. This was strictly forbidden, but the staff usually kept away from the 'disco' and its nerve-wrecking noise. Soon, Yannick had had one too many and was half sitting, half lying in a corner with an equally tipsy girl in each arm. Most of the youngsters had now had their share of the stuff and were enjoying themselves, or so they said. Lucien hadn't touched any of it and he grew more and more uneasy. The beautiful boy had been dancing alone for another while and had eventually left.
This was exactly what had been needed to wreck the evening altogether for Lucien. He went over to Yannick and his harem. "Don't you think we should be going for a smoke?" Instead of an answer Yannick flung a packet of cigarettes at Lucien which hit him in the face and fell to the floor. Lucien was shocked. "You know quite well what I mean. I said GOING for a smoke." Yannick was obviously very drunk. He just drew the two girls nearer to himself, looked at Lucien with a most disgusted expression on his face and shouted, "Oh, you make me sick. Bugger off, little queer!"
Lucien turned away and walked straight out of the place. No, this couldn't be... this couldn't be his Yannick... and the words echoed in his head, worse than the most frightening noise of the most terrible thunder in the bunker, 'LITTLE QUEER!'.
LUCIEN AND JEROME by RaCo
In a state of shock, Lucien crossed the busy street which runs alongside the harbour without looking neither left nor right. He walked on to the quai and sank down on a large wooden box facing the 'Bassin Gambetta'. He was feeling numb, empty, and hurt in a way which went beyond his comprehension. He recalled the frightening experience in the thunderstorm. But the truth with which Yannick had struck him was much more scary than the lightning which had been over within fractions of a second. He sensed that there was something which would change his entire life and, this time, there would be no point in running away. He still heard Yannick's voice resounding in his ears. Unlike Yannick, he had been longing for more than just quick relief. He had wanted to hold him, kiss him and have his feelings returned. And if 'queer' was the word for a man wanting to love another man, then Yannick was right. He was 'queer'.
He hadn't heard the steps come near behind him. Someone was sitting down right next to him. "You're not OK, at all, are you?" the voice speaking to Lucien was soft and warm. Lucien turned his head and there was the boy he had seen before at the disco. "I've been through all this, myself, not too long ago," the boy was smiling at him but it was the honesty in his big brown eyes which instantly made Lucien trust him. "I was standing in the hallway when I heard someone yell those words which gave me the creeps," the boy went on, "then I saw you running away." "But how did you know it was me?", Lucien was alarmed. Would everybody be able to see 'it'? "Oh, that wasn't too hard to guess. I had seen you sitting alone in your corner, all night. Your eyes were following every move of this other boy. I guess his name is Yannick, at least that's what the girls called him." "He's been my best friend." "So, you've known him for a long time?" "We've grown up together," Lucien's head sank down and he had to swallow. "And, in the end, you've asked for more than he could give you."
How could it be that there was someone who knew exactly what had been going on between him and Yannick? He got the answer before he could ask for it. "I've lost my best friend in exactly the same way, a year ago. And I know how it hurts. But, believe me, best friends make bad lovers."
For a while, there was silence. Thoughts and ideas swirled around in Lucien's head like angry bees. His hands were busy with a small imaginary object. Several times, he breathed in, opened his mouth but then held his breath for a moment and, almost invisibly, shook his head. Eventually, the question on his mind just had to be spoken out. "Do you mean that you are... queer?" "This is a nasty word from those who hate us." The boy looked firmly into Lucien's eyes. "But if you're asking me if I want another boy as a lover, the answer is yes."
Lucien was amazed by the self-confidence with which the boy had made this declaration. Wanting another boy as a lover... The ugly word queer had scared and hurt him. He had been ready to accept the fact, though, sensing that there would be no choice for him, just as he would have accepted to lose an arm, still knowing that life would go on, somehow. Now, there was someone who was like him and he admitted it - almost casually. And he seemed so much at ease with himself. This someone was even smiling. The way the boy had put it made something which, only a moment ago, had seemed scaring and menacing suddenly sound positive and even inviting. Lucien felt as if the boy had just pulled him across a deep gorge, threatening and full of dangers, and over to a place where he could feel safe again. If accepting the facts would include holding someone like this boy in his arms, he was more than ready.
"May I... ask you a few more things?" The boy smiled at him, "Sure, but would you mind asking them at my house. I'm freezing."
The day had been nice and warm but a cool breeze from the sea had set in. Lucien, too much occupied with their talking, had to admit that the boy was right, though he hated the idea to leave and keep all those nagging questions until another time.
"So, when would you like me to come by, then?" "We can go there right now. I got my wheels across the street. Is there any time when you have to be at home?" Lucien jumped up and a trace of a smile showed up on his face. "No, there's just my grandmother. She goes to bed early and won't notice when I'm late. My mother won't be coming home before eleven." They were walking back towards the Youth Centre. "No father around?", the boy asked. "He's somewhere way up north on one of the large trawlers. And if he weren't, he'd be at the bar until late at night." "So, you can walk in and out whenever you like?" "Well, I've never really asked, but they don't seem to care much about me, anyway. Could you drive me home, afterwards?" "Sure." The boy directed them to a motorbike parked alongside the building and unlocked it. "Wow, this is yours?" Lucien was really impressed. "Yep, I got it on my last birthday." "I wouldn't have guessed that you're 18." "No, you're allowed to drive these at 16. I'm 17... and you?" "Just turned 14, a good month ago." "Now look, I don't have a second helmet with me. I'll drive as carefully as I can and you'll put your arms firmly around me. And keep your feet on the rests if I have to stop on the way." With this, the boy kicked the engine on and mounted the bike. He made Lucien sit behind him. At the next traffic light, they had to stop and the boy turned his head back to Lucien. "By the way, I'm Jerome. You're OK, there?" "Yes, I am. And I'm Lucien." "Lucien...", the boy said, "sounds nice..."
Lucien could hardly believe it. On the night which had almost meant the end of the world to him, only an hour ago, he was sitting on a motorbike with his arms around this boy. Could it be that being whatever it was to be called wasn't all longing and loneliness, after all? He knew he had lost Yannick and the thought was painful, but he felt he had found a friend to whom he could relate in an altogether different way.
They drove out of the town, down the road leading towards Le Touquet and, after a few miles, they slowed down and turned into a driveway which led up to a beautiful old house in the middle of a garden. Jerome stopped the engine and pushed the bike into a shed. "This is your parents' house?", Lucien liked the place. It looked beautiful and comfortable. "Yes, we moved here from Paris, a year ago, when my grandmother died." They climbed the few steps to the door and Jerome took him into the hall. "Hello! Anyone in?", Jerome shouted across the place. A woman in jeans and a sweater came out of what seemed to be the kitchen. "Well, let me think. There's Mitterand, the Pope...", she was counting on her fingers, "...Queen Elizabeth, Bjorn Borg... the Beatles should be arriving any minute..." she looked at Lucien, "and there's a handsome young man to whom I have not yet had the honour to be introduced." "Oh, sorry...", Jerome had to laugh, "this is Lucien." And, turning towards Lucien, "My Mother..." The woman smiled warmly at Lucien. "You're a friend of Jerome's?" Jerome gave the answer, "I've met Lucien at the Youth Centre. Someone had just dealt him a nasty blow and he's suffering from a bad attack of Gerard Syndrome. We'll be upstairs for the rest of the night. We have a lot of things to talk about but I guess, with all those people around, you will be busy enough and not missing us too much. Oh, and give my regards to the Queen and tell her to say hello to Dad when she sees him."
With that, he climbed upstairs and made a gesture for Lucien to follow him. "Aren't you hungry? And how about Lucien?" his mother called after them. "Could you prepare a few sandwiches and some tea? I'll come down in ten minutes and fetch them." "Ah, so am I to take it that you do not want to be disturbed, then?" "Yes, that would be nice. Thanks a lot, Mum." Lucien had been following this rapid exchange with amusement. These two seemed to have some form of understanding which he had never known between himself and his own parents.
They arrived on the second floor and Jerome took him into a large room with stylish modern furniture which was a big contrast to the antiques which he had seen downstairs. There was a hi-fi system and a colour TV. The walls were full of photographs in large glass frames. "I want you to feel quite at home, here." Jerome said. "If you want to wash your hands, there's the bathroom." He pointed at a door to the right. Lucien didn't know what to say. "Is this YOUR room?" "Yes. Mum had everything changed to one of her own designs when we moved in. She's living downstairs. She wanted me to have something like a flat of my own." "Your Mum designed this?" "Yep. She works as an interior decorator." "And your father?" "He lives in London since he left us. Maybe I'll tell you more about this, some other time. Now, make yourself comfortable. I'll be with you in a moment."
Jerome disappeared through the door leading to the bathroom. Lucien looked around and compared what he saw to his own little room under the roof with just a bed, a bookshelf, chair, table and an old wardrobe. He sat down on a large piece of furniture, some kind of half bed, half couch built out of blocks of big square cushions. On the table in front of him lay a book with a beautiful young man on the cover. He couldn't resist having a look. The entire book was full of printed art photographs of nude boys and young men. Most of the boys were of his or Jerome's age. He hadn't even known that such books exist and couldn't get enough of it.
He heard Jerome return back into the room and he quickly put the book back on the table. "You like it?" Jerome didn't seem to be embarassed, at all, to have Lucien find such private things on his table. "Mum gave me this, yesterday, for an A in maths. It's really beautiful." Now, this was too much for Lucien, "You mean you had an A in maths and your mother gave you a book with naked boys for that?" "Well, I guess she had found it in a bookstore on one of her trips to Paris and I would have had it, anyway. It's by a German count who lived on the Isle of Sicily. He took all those pictures around the turn of the century. Strange to think that all these young boys are now either in their eighties or have died, years ago."
Jerome was walking around the room and switching off some of the spots lighting it, until there was a comfortable atmosphere for two people to sit and talk. "Just let me pop down and fetch the sandwiches and then we'll sit down and I'll answer any questions which you may have."
Lucien was as confused as one can possibly be. Not only wasn't Jerome the least bit inhibited about being 'queer', but his mother gave him books with naked boys. He had no idea what his own parents would say, but he supposed that their reaction would be very much the opposite of what he saw and heard here.
The door opened again and Jerome put a tray with tea and sandwiches on the table. He poured tea into the cups and told Lucien to help himself to the sandwiches. Lucien recalled parts of the conversation between mother and son downstairs. "Say, what is George's Syndrome?" "Oh, you mean Gerard Syndrome." Jerome had kicked off his tennis shoes and pulled his legs up on to the couch where he sat next to Lucien. "Gerard was MY best friend and Mum knows in which state I was when the big bang occured. So, it was the quickest way to give her an idea of the situation. By the way... she says you're nice." "But she has hardly seen me." "Oh, she's amazingly good at telling the good guys from the bad ones on first sight. She knew about me before I did." "She's never been mad at you because of it?" "No, actually she helped me a lot when I had to come to terms with it." "But how did you find out?" "Much the same way as you did. Gerard and I used to do it together for years. Then, he discovered that he was more interested in girls. I didn't want to lose him and, I guess, I began to behave quite stupidly. And, one day, after we had been together, he told me that he had had enough of this and he wouldn't ever want to do it again. I made quite a scene and he got terribly mad. He called me a sick pervert and he regretted having ever known me and threw me out. And, still worse, he told another friend about me and that one told someone else, until the entire class at school knew it. No one would speak to me and I could hear them laughing and making nasty jokes behind my back. Then, my sports teacher became aware of what was going on and, at the beginning of the next sports lesson, he told the class to behave as they were having a young lady amoung them. It was hell. That was still in Paris. I had never thought about being 'queer' or whatever you like to call it. It was just him and me, so who cared? And then, I had to accept that I actually WAS different from the other boys who were all dating girls. All this happened shortly after Granny died and we inherited this house. Mum realized that I needed to get away from my old school and we moved over here. I think, if she hadn't been there, I would have killed myself."
Jerome got up and went over to the desk below the window. He searched around in one of the drawers and produced a box of cigarettes. He returned to the couch and held the box out to Lucien. "You want one?" "No, thanks. I haven't seen you smoking, all night." "Oh, usually I don't. Only when I'm getting excited." Jerome lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke. "It's a lot easier, now, but you should have seen me in the first weeks after it happened. I was a wreck. I'd never have believed I would be able to talk about it without breaking down in tears again. That reminds me, I admire your courage. You seem to be coping quite well." "That is because of you. I wouldn't want to know what it would have been like, if you hadn't followed me down to the harbour. I had watched you dancing, all night, and then you were gone. I went over to Yannick and told him I wanted us to leave..." Lucien quickly recounted the events within the disco room.
"And you rushed out of the place without taking any notice of me standing there. I had been hoping that you would eventually be bored and look for someone to talk to. I'll be honest. When I heard the noise and saw you rush out, I was shocked and somewhat relieved at the same time. At least it confirmed my hopes about you."
Jerome had lit another cigarette and there was a long period of silence. Lucien had more and more trouble sorting all this out. This boy was having hopes about him?
Jerome crushed the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, got up and paced around the room. At one moment, he stopped in front of his desk, looked out of the window and Lucien watched his hands nervously playing with the little medallion on the golden chain around his neck.
Then, his eyes fell on the clock on top of his desk. "Gosh, it's almost a quarter past eleven. You want me to take you home?" Reluctantly, Lucien admitted to himself that he should be reasonable and let Jerome drive him home, though he would have liked to stay with him, forever. He still had so much to ask. And in all those different feelings raging and fighting within him, there was one which grew stronger with every minute. But, after all the events of this day, he didn't feel strong enough to deal with it.
"Jerome?" "Yes..." "When will I see you again?" Jerome turned around and the strained expression on his face gave way to a smile. "Shall I pick you up tomorrow morning? We could drive along the coast." "Yes, I'd love to." "So, I'll be there at ten... that OK with you?" "Yes, sure."
The two boys went downstairs and Jerome took Lucien into the living room where his mother was reading in front of an open fireplace. She looked up from her book and smiled at Lucien, "You're better now?" Lucien felt that she wasn't just being polite with him. Her voice conveyed genuine interest and he liked her immediately. "Yes, a lot better. Jerome has been so kind with me, but I'll have to return home, now. Thank you for having me here, tonight." "You are always welcome. Will you drive him home, Jerome?" "Yes, and we'll have a drive up the coast, tomorrow." "That sounds like fun. Shall I prepare something to eat that you can take along, then?" "Oh, thanks, but we'll have some chips and burgers on the way." "Ugh, burgers," her face contorted, "well, you have to eat them, not me." "OK, we must run, now, we're late, already. Will you still be up when I'll return? It won't take too long." "Yes, I think so. You want to talk?" "I guess I do... Anyway, we're off now."
They went outside and Jerome got the motorbike back out of the shed together with a second helmet for Lucien. On the way, Lucien grew more and more conscious of the fact that he wasn't only clinging to Jerome for his own safety, especially as Jerome, unlike the other boys he knew, was driving very carefully. It was more like hugging him and he could feel the body of this beautiful boy press against his own. Never since his encounter with the tourist boy had he felt like this. He was embarassed when he became aware of the reaction in his groin, but then they were already at the corner of his street and he made Jerome stop. He wanted to stay on the safe side and try to enter the house without having everybody woken up by the motorbike.
He returned the helmet. "Listen, don't make too much noise when you drive off. I'll try and sneak in so they won't notice how late I am... And thank you... You've been so nice to me." Jerome's right hand with the thick leather glove rose from the handle-bars and shyly caressed Lucien's cheek. Then he clanked in the first gear and drove off.
Lucien entered the house, and everything seemed quiet, inside. But when he stealthily climbed up the stairs to his room, he heard his mother laugh in the living room and there was a man's voice which was not his father's. He had observed in the last months that his parents hadn't been getting on too well with each other and he guessed he knew what was happening, downstairs. Having seen very little of his father over the years he wasn't really attached to him but the idea of having another man around scared him. There was enough turmoil in his own life, already.
. . .
When Jerome arrived at home, his mother was still sitting in the living room. She looked up at her son and he gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for waiting. You're not too tired?" "No, I'm fine," she said, "how about you then?" Jerome had settled down on the rug in front of the fireplace. He had put on a sweater before he left and pulled it over his head. It had been quite chilly outside and the heat of the fire was most comforting. "I'm as awake as I could possibly be. Actually, I don't think I'll be sleeping very much, tonight." "But you should sleep or you'll be a bad driver tomorrow. You don't want anything to happen to Lucien, do you?"
Just hearing the name made him smile. He looked at his mother. "Is there anything I need to tell you, or do you know it all, already?" "Well, I see my son melting away when I mention a certain name and there are bright stars in his eyes. So, what could this mean?" "Mum..." "Yes, dear?" "May I have one of your cigarettes?" "Oh, is it this bad? Well, here you are." She took a cigarette out of the box on the table and threw it over to her son. Jerome grabbed a lighter from the mantelpiece. He blew the smoke out with a long sigh. "Mum..." "Mmm.." "I think I'm falling in love." "But this is something very beautiful. So, where is the problem?" "I haven't had the nerve to tell him. He was so upset and I didn't want to add to his confusion. And, maybe I'm still a bit scared of getting involved with someone..." "Someone so young, you mean? How old is he?" "He's 14. Would you mind about his age if we'd be together?" "No, I wouldn't. I only want you to realize how young he is and how vulnerable. Do you think he's sure enough about his own feelings? I mean, not towards you, but about himself." "From what I found out, tonight's incident at the Youth Centre has finally pushed him over the edge and he appears to accept it." "Has it been very bad for him?" "I guess it helped a lot that I happened to be there. Seems his parents are not very supporting." "And he may not have someone to run to... If you really care for him, then give him the time he needs. You are so much stronger, now." "And I've got you. You're wonderful, Mum. I love you." "I love you, too, dear. Now, don't you think you should get some sleep?" "You're right. I'm getting a bit tired." They both walked into the hall and Jerome took his mother into his arms. "Thank you, Mum. Good night." "Good night, love. Say, what's his name, again?" "Lucien... but you know this." "Sure. I just love to see those stars in your eyes. Sleep well." "Oh, you're impossible. 'Night Mum."