The Embarrassment of Riches

The Embarrassment of Riches Chapter Thirteen: The More Things Change...

The people, places and events in this story are entirely fictional and any resembelences to real people, real places or real events would be awesome.

The time it takes for a minute or an hour or twenty seven days can pass is subjective. For one person it passes in an instant, for others it lasts an eternity.

Martin had thought he had all the time in the world to study for his prelim exams and suddenly he was sitting on Friday the thirteenth in January feeling decidedly not-lucky and not quite prepared. The prelims, or preliminary examinations as no-one ever called them, were practice tests of a sort that indicated the sort of mark the student was capable of achieving in the main exams. In May, the main examinations would take place – they were externally marked and provided their qualifications for the year. If anything went tits up, the prelims were proof that the student could do better and they should resit.

Martin was prepared enough, which was a step or two below the quietly confident he had been aiming for. There was a few hours left before the Higher English exam that was time tabled for the afternoon. If he was honest with himself Martin would admit he was confident, about this exam at least. English was his favourite class and he enjoyed both reading and writing. His teacher was of the opinion that Martin would make a very talented writer if he put his mind to it.

Perhaps he would, put his mind to it that is, after school was done and dusted; given the fact he had no idea what to do with his life after school, writing would at least be a start.

Martin put down his notes, stood up and stretched; he had had quite enough of studding now and needed a chance to pause and breath. He took a walk to the front door and felt the icy breath of winter wind.

The house had been cosily warm; his skin toasty, but the cold air was very pleasant until the chills turned to shivers.

"Will you sign for this?" the post man asked as he walked up the driveway from his van that stood parked half on the kerb.

"Yea," Martin replied, accepting a package in return.

The package, Martin discovered, was intended for him but he hadn't remembered buying anything since before Christmas. The box was neither big nor weighteous and offered no clue to its contents so he sliced the tape with a knife from the kitchen and then opened the box. Parting the paper packed around the object inside, Martin found a photo frame.

He looked at the photo for a long time.

To the left hand side of the photo he immediately recognised his mother, Laura: his birth mother, standing next to a boy who didn't look entirely comfortable holding her hand. The boy, who looked fourteen years old plus or minus a year, had a remarkable resemblance to Martin – it was the first time Martin had seen his dad.

His mum and dad together.

After a minute Martin's eyes finally moved on to look at the other people in the photo. A small boy held Laura's other hand, he was only five or six but his face was a picture of joy. On the far right of the photo stood and older boy with arms wrapped around a girl who was giggling as he held her waist. The girl had red hair and freckles but was very pretty, the older boy was also handsome and Martin would have had naughty thoughts about him if the circumstances had been otherwise.

It was all rather a lot to take in and much of it still a mystery to Martin so he put down the photo and rooted through the box to see if it held anything else. There was a letter inside which Martin opened and read:

Dear Martin,

Today is the thirteenth of January and it's been five years since my sister passed away. Your

mother. She wrote to you and I expect you'll have read her letters by now. If not, this parcel

will come as a bit of a shock but I know the parents who raised you are good people so I'm sure you'll know all about Laura by now. I'm Frazer, the wee boy in the photo. Your uncle, I suppose.

It's nice to meet you.

I'm not sure I've done the right thing giving you this picture, Laura was never sure if she should

give it to your mum & dad or not and she died before making up her mind. But I think she would want you to have it now. I think so. If you're wondering about the photo, it was taken in 1998

on Jamie's birthday. Jamie would be your dad, standing next to Laura. Next to them are Laura's

best friend, Amy and Stephen, your dad's brother. This was taken a year before you were born... actually nine months I think.

It feels a little morbid to get in touch for today, of all days, but I suspect you have a lot of questions that Laura never got to answer. If you want to talk some day my number is below.

Frazer.

Martin had an uncle called Frazer.

Two uncles actually, Frazer and Stephen.

Martin wanted to call immediately but a) he had an exam to sit in a few hours, and b) he wasn't sure where to begin. But he knew he could not call without speaking to his mum and dad first. If he was getting in touch with family, such as it was, he had to talk to them first.

And before that he had that damn exam.

Martin put down the photo but took the letter up stairs with him, reading it over again as he went. He stripped off the comfy clothes he'd thrown on when he woke up that morning and changed into his school uniform. He locked the letter in a drawer of the desk in his room.

Heading back downstairs, Martin picked up his notes and stuffed them into his backpack. He was still distracted by that letter, that phone number, but he had to concentrate - he had an exam to pass. Martin locked up and left the house; he forgot all about the photo that was still propped up in the sitting room.

When Johnnie was twelve years old, he was only in hospital for a few days after surgery. After being admitted to hospital just before christmas, he was well on the way to recovery though nearly a month has passed now. His surgeon, one of his surgeons, had told him his headaches and memory problems etc had been a "complication" of the endovascular coil that had been inserted seven years ago. A ruptured aneurysm was pretty much the highlight of a sucky year and Johnnie was glad that year was over. Twenty-sixteen had seen his friendship with Calvin implode, the loss of Alan Rickman and Carrie Fisher to name but two, an embarrassing 'Brexit' referendum and the election of a fucking twat to the highest seat of power in the Western world. Twenty-sixteen could kiss Johnnie's ass.

Following his collapse he was rushed to Glasgow's Institute of Neurosciences, located on the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital campus; there he had emergency surgery, this time neurosurgical clipping was used to save his life, leaving scar above his left eyebrow as a result.

Under other circumstances, Johnnie could have been out of hospital in a week; it was now nearly four weeks since his collapse, the week before Christmas, and he was getting anxious to check out.

After surgery he had gone to intensive care, from there to high dependency and had languished in HDU step-down since then. Infection post-OP was a major risk and Johnnie had been stuck with IV antibiotics, which he would be more unhappy about if it wasn't a life-saving measure.

He had had regular visits from all his family and friends but things with Calvin were still tense. To his credit, Calvin had visited Johnnie on his birthday at the beginning of this week. They knew they had both said things that friends who want to stay friends probably shouldn't say.

Turning nineteen in hospital had sucked and he wanted to go home.

Johnnie had already seen his consultant this morning so pretty much his day was free now. Johnnie's rehab had been excellent – as it should be in a young man – his cognitive impairment was minimal, his neurological tests were all normal and, if his blood results continued to improve, he would be home sometime next week.

Today, Johnnie was lying on his bed and thinking about Calvin who had sent him a text that morning:

[Exam today, wish me luck :)]

Johnnie had no regrets about missing his Journalism and Multimedia exam, he was confident he wouldn't return to university now anyway but he did spare a thought for Mr Carlisle who had been an invigilator last year. Johnnie had nearly run out of time because he had spent a little too long thinking about his lecturer's arse.

Together, Johnnie and Cal had often enjoyed checking the lecturer out instead of paying attention in lectures or seminars. The seminar at the beginning of the last semester when Johnnie had stripped off in the class was a testament to that.

That event seemed a long time ago – back when he and Cal were still intimately close.

Johnnie and Cal remembered Mr Carlisle from when he was a teacher at their high school: Earl of Lennox Boys School. It was during their fifth year that he left but Johnnie and Calvin had been happy to encounter him again as a lecturer at the James VI of Scotland University.

The two friends had wondered if he had been quite so pleased to see them given what had happened just before he left their school. It was this event Johnnie found himself thinking about now; a simpler time, happier, hornier, sillier. Johnnie didn't have much else to think about until he escaped detention in the hospital.

"But Mr Welland is a fanny," complained Calvin as he attempted to justify why he shouldn't have detention.

Johnnie and Calvin were in one of the art rooms on the second floor of the school and Mr Carlisle was supervising their punishment.

"Calvin!" said Johnnie though gritted teeth.

"Let me get this straight," Mr Carlisle replied; "I ask you why you shouldn't have detention and the best answer you can come up with is `Mr Welland is a fanny' is that right?"

Calvin made to answer so Johnnie nudged him, "Can we have another go?"

Mr Carlisle smiled and Cal and Johnnie both melted. He was a very attractive man in his early or mid-twenties and he looked like he should be on the cover of Shit Hot Teachers magazine rather than teaching Media Studies.

Secretly what Johnnie liked the most about Mr Carlisle was that he was a more mature version of himself: a similar caramel-brown shade of hair and light brown eyes with a slim and athletic build. He once tried to tell Calvin this, that Johnnie liked the man for similarities they share; Cal started calling their teacher "cousin Carlisle" until Johnnie told him to quit it.

Johnnie and Cal had heard rumour that he was pursuing other jobs and that the Earl of Lennox Boys School had been a career stepping stone so Johnnie and Cal, for all their complaints and comments about their detention, were secretly glad to have this unbridled time to check him out.

"Mr Welland is not a fanny," said Calvin reluctantly.

"Yea, he's a bell-end."

Mr Carlisle bit his lip to stop laughing and turned his back so the boys wouldn't see his face. It took a minute to rearrange his features back into the face of an authority figure.

"I think the detention will have to stand, boys," he said. "Why don't you do some of the homework I set you?"

"Why don't you clean up some of the f-," bad word averted; "flipping mess left in the hall."

The aforementioned Mr Welland was at the door of the art room.

"The janitor's off on the sick, why don't you two mop the floor like good little urchins," he said.

Johnnie and Calvin were confident he had not heard them refer to him as a part of the penis or Mr Welland would have been redder in the face and less pleasant. For a teacher at an expensive private school he had an awful lot of contempt for the boys he taught.

"We'd love to Mr Welland, but we don't have any buckets."

"Or water."

"Or mops."

"I brought everything you will need," Mr Welland replied, pushing cleaning paraphernalia into view with his foot.

"Awesome."

"Thanks."

"Mr Welland, are you taking this detention or am I?" asked Mr Carlisle with some authority.

Mr Welland scowled; "By all means continue."

He departed but left a trace of his presence in the air like a fart in a lift.

"Prick."

"Cunt."

"Bell-end," muttered Mr Carlisle, or at least that's what Cal and Johnnie thought they heard.

Everything they needed was indeed there and Mr Carlisle seemed embarrassed to see the boys picking up mops and setting to the dusty corridor outside the art room. They didn't need to, Mr Carlisle had told them, but the boys would rather do that than homework.

It was a Friday afternoon early in February, Calvin had turned seventeen on Tuesday (Valentine's day) – five weeks after Johnnie's own seventeenth birthday. Johnnie and Cal planned a weekend that would make one or both of them walk funny until Monday.

This was what was carrying them though the remains of the day. They might be stuck in school for an hour longer than normal but they still had a whole weekend ahead of them. Mr Carlisle made an excuse to leave after five minutes, intimating that if they weren't there when he returned that would be ok.

The boys knew Mr Carlisle would cover for them if Mr Welland asked, but they didn't want to risk it regardless. Only forty-five minutes to go and then they could sod off without risk of penalty.

"We could make this interesting," said Johnnie the instant Mr Carlisle departed.

"Yea, how?" Calvin asked.

"Well, it would be a shame if we got our school uniforms dirty while we were mopping up," Johnnie suggested.

"Yea," Cal replied; "I mean water splashes and we wouldn't want anything to get wet or anything, would we?"

"Certainly not," Johnnie agreed.

"You first."

"Why me first?"

"Because it was your idea and because I'm not that stupid," Cal replied.

Johnnie resisted the temptation to rebuttle. Instead, he unknotted his tie and then unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off and tossing it halfway into the room where their detention had began. Then Johnnie unbuttoned his trousers and took off his shoes so he could removed them; he was going to put them back on but somehow black dress shoes and nudity just didn't make the visual Johnnie was shooting for. Also, since he was already committed to being a complete lunatic, Johnnie pulled off his socks and tossed them into the school classroom too.

Calvin took in the sight of Johnnie, now wearing only his snug fitting boxer briefs that showed off a decent sized package that was becoming more decent the longer Cal looked at it.

"Your turn," Johnnie prompted.

Calvin was reluctant but he and Johnnie were always in things together and he wouldn't leave Johnnie alone in this. Besides, the idea was rather exciting. Calvin followed Johnnie's lead and was soon stood equally barefoot and practically naked. Cal's looser fitting boxers tented with a semi-erection.

Calvin and Johnnie continued down the corridor, putting distance between themselves and the safety of the room and more importantly their school uniforms. Things descended into the ridiculous when Calvin lifted his sopping wet mop and slapped water to the small of Johnnie's back. Water ran over Johnnie's bum, soaking his underwear, and then down his legs.

Out of reciprocity, Johnnie splashed Calvin's abdomen. The initial bust of water pushed Cal's boxers down just a little, exposing some of the pubic hair above his cock, before soaking them just enough to highlight the penis underneath.

They started kissing after that. Arms wrapped around each other and bodies pressed tightly together. They were just friends but friends who had explored every aspect of their homosexuality together. They didn't need boyfriends – they had each other. Johnnie took his lips from Cal's and began to kiss Calvin's neck. Hands played across each other's chests and their legs glided together, feet touching feet and playing mischievously.

It was another minute before either of them noticed the shadow cast across the floor. When they looked up, Mr Carlisle was watching them.

The lads were embarrassed at first but that did not last. Being caught red handed like this was a risk when they started it and now they were caught by the hottest teacher in the school, they couldn't have planned it better if they'd tried.

And they had tried.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mr Carlisle asked incredulously.

"We're kissing," Calvin replied, taking hold of Johnnie's hand.

"And holding hands," Johnnie looked down on the union before adding; "apparently."

"No, no. I mean..." Mr Carlisle tried to find the right words. "Why are you... undressed like that?"

The attempt at jest told Johnnie and Calvin all they needed to know. They weren't in any trouble.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Johnnie replied.

"Yea, we didn't want to ruin our school uniforms," Calvin supplemented.

"Looks like you've ruined your underwear though," Mr Carlisle commented.

They both looked down at the partially-sodden garments and then they both looked at each other.

They grinned, they nodded, they pushed their underwear down.

Mr Carlisle really didn't know here to look now.

He tried really hard... he tried with all his might not to look at their penis's before failing and looking at the two semi-hard cock's dangling just a few steps in front of him.

Johnnie and Calvin stepped out of their underwear and held them in their hands.

"We don't have anywhere to put these just now," Calvin said suggestively.

"Maybe you could hold them for us?" Johnnie asked.

Mr Carlisle looked at the two teens, scanned their naked bodies that were on complete display and then stepped forward. He took the underwear and held them in his hands. They were very close now, close enough to...

Mr Carlisle tried not to think about what he wanted desperately to think about.

Then Johnnie and Cal stroked their cocks with their freed hands and Mr Carlisle was brought seven inches closer to them.

"I think we should go back to the art room," Mr Carlisle said in a measure voice.

The boys turned and led the way so that their teacher could walk behind them. It had the desired effect, Mr Carlisle could not help but look at their perfect fucking arses. Back in the room, Mr Carlisle closed the door and drew the blind conveniently placed on the door so that no-one could look into the room. Then Mr Carlisle turned the bolt on the door to lock it from the inside; no-one outside the room could unlock it now.

Mr Carlisle turned back to look at the naked boys. He was only eight, maybe nine, years older than them. He was thinking things he shouldn't, asking himself what would be different if he'd met them in a bar or club.

"Hi, I'm Dean."

Johnnie and Calvin stared at Dean for a moment before finding the wherewithal to move towards their handsome teacher; their bare feet made a soft patting noise on the lino floor as they stepped up to him. Johnnie made the first real move by leaning in kissing Dean's lips, then slipping his hand onto Dean's face to feel the bristle of stubble on his cheek.

Dean's eyes has a slight glaze of fright in them; an `oh fuck what am I doing' kind of look, to be exact.

"Mmm," said Johnnie when their lips broke, communicating his deep satisfaction with the turn of events.

Calvin stood at Dean's other side and placed his hand on the teacher's shoulder before sliding it down his chest, brushing a nipple through his shirt, caressing his hip and finally groping his backside. Dean made a tiny jump as his arse was felt up but grinned widely.

"I'm gonna get fired," he said quietly, stepping back by half a pace.

The step back gave him a better view of Cal and Johnnie's naked bodies, which was not his intention. Dean shook his head, disappointed in himself at what he had done. He should never have come into this room.

"No way," Johnnie replied.

"You won't get fired," Calvin agreed.

Dean looked the boys in the eye, torn between running a mile and surrendering to temptation.

Johnnie and Calvin started stroking their cocks, which had started to wilt.

Surrender.

Dean stepped to close to Johnnie that he could feel the seventeen year olds had cock pressing into his groin, their lips met again in an act of reciprocity that only seemed fair before he switched attention to Calvin and locked tongues with him. Johnnie in turn nipped at Dean's neck, or as much of as was accessible above the collar of his shirt.

Dean moaned as he felt both erections pressing against him, threatening to leave sliver trails of pre-cum on his black trousers. As his exchange of saliva with Calvin continued, Johnnie got to work on the trousers; pulling at the belt and untucking the shirt. Moments later, Dean found his shirt unbuttoned to the sternum which revealed a respectably toned abdomen and moments after that his trousers opened up to expose his tight white briefs.

Tight because of the blood-filled penis stretching within them.

Cal pulled away once the briefs were exposed and went down on his haunches, hefted out the seven inch cock from their confines and took Dean's, Mr Carlisle's, hard penis in his mouth. Dean gasped and bit down to stop from moaning to loud. Although the school ought to be almost empty by now and the classroom door was locked, he was well aware of the risk he was taking.

A stupid, deplorable, decadent, unacceptable, unprofessional risk.

"Oh, fuck," Dean said.

Unprofessional or not, Calvin's mouth hovering his dick was deeply pleasurable. He looked down at the naked younger man whose untouched cock was thick and hard and protruding from his groin and felt a surge of desire to put his lips around it as his was engulfed now.

Johnnie was still enjoying himself as he unbuttoned the rest of the shirt and pulled at the knot of Dean's tie. The shirt fell open and Johnnie pushed it off of Dean's shoulders, down his arms until it stopped at the teacher's wrists; Dean's arms were almost shackled by the shirt now. Next Johnnie licked and kissed Dean's nipples, between which a there was an attractive spread of hair that glanced the older man's shoulders and descended in a triangle towards his navel.

Calvin's nose brushed Dean's pubic hair as he took the cock deep and then his hands rose to the waist of the trousers and pulled them down.

The underwear came too and now Dean was stood in the school classroom with two naked boys, his pupils, with his own chest exposed and arms behind his back and trousers around his ankles; his cock was being sucked by one boy and the other was starting to probe his arse with a finger.

Dean reached out and finally touched one of the lads who had been pleasuring him; he wrapped a hand around Johnnie's cock and started to masturbate it. Johnnie was surprised but delighted and his arm continued to extend around Dean's back so his finger could trace circles around the sensitive sphincter. Dean was getting close to orgasm now and Johnnie had been ready to blow, untouched, from the moment he saw Dean's cock. A moment of lament passed over Johnnie that it was not him on his knees but whatever regret he had over that was replaced by pleasure he now derived from having his teacher jerk him off.

Dean gently bucked his hips as Calvin sucked and moved his hands up and down Dean's firm legs. Cal finally groped Dean's arse cheeks, spreading them a bit for Johnnie who took the opportunity to slip his finger in.

The feeling of the sphincter closing around Johnnie's finger made Johnnie very happy; he imagined the feel of that tightening around his cock would be doubly exciting.

The feeling of Johnnie's finger inside him made Dean tremble with anticipation.

When Dean's orgasm arrived, he spurted cum in Calvin's mouth. Dean had no reservations about this, somehow he knew Calvin and Johnnie were special friends and their confidence at being naked was a sure sign Calvin knew how to swallow.

Dean found himself thinking about the rumours he had heard about the boys for the past year. Exhibitionism that he missed out on because he was their teacher rather than a peer; perhaps one day, as an adult, he would experience their showmanship for himself.

Dean's hand and wrist were starting to ache by the time Johnnie came, the cum erupting on the floor and narrowly missing Calvin's head and Dean's trousers. The cum spread onto Dean's hand which smeared it over the hard, post-orgasmic organ.

Only Calvin remained unspent, but he put an end that to that by grabbing his own throbbing penis and stroking it with fast desperate tugs. Calvin finally released Dean's cock from his mouth and licked the residue from his lips; Dean looked down at the handsome teen and watched him stoke himself to a hurried orgasm.

For his part, Cal was looking up at a man he and Johnnie had been checking out for a long time. He was even more attractive now that he had seen everything that he or Johnnie had imagined. It was the sight of Dean's legs, bulging balls, fat cum and saliva smeared cock, thin waist and chest and trendy stubble that took Cal over the edge and his cum spilled more wreckage of their deeds on the floor.

After they had all came, there was a daze in the room.

Slowly, Dean reached for his trousers and underpants and pulled them up. Calvin stood up and wiped cum from his hand onto his thigh, his subsiding erection caused his cock to dangle between his legs and swing as he rose. Johnnie was still delighted by the sensation of Dean's hand around his dick that he considered never washing his penis again. Except, of course, he would.

Dean buttoned up his shirt and tucked it in before fastening the belt and moving towards the desk at the front of the room. Johnnie and Calvin brazenly remained totally naked before him.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" Dean asked.

"Sure thing Dean, but we thought you were enjoying the view," Johnnie replied.

"I was. I am. I..." Dean shook his head; "Maybe you should call me Mr Carlisle again."

"Sure thing," Cal said teasingly; "Mr Carlisle," Cal made the title sound scandalous.

An expression must have crossed Dean's face because the boys stopped teasing him and pulled on their underwear that had remain undisturbed from when they had stripped and tossed them into the room from the school corridor.

"You know we won't tell anyone?" Johnnie said with a deep honesty, naiveté almost, that could have melted Mr Carlisle's heart.

"Thank you," he replied.

"We enjoyed this," Calvin added; "You're the hottest man in the school."

Calvin carefully avoided referring to the man he had just sucked off as "teacher," as he knew Mr Carlisle would not want to be reminded of the ethical barrier he had just breached.

Calvin and Johnnie got dressed and stood before their teacher as uniformed pupils once again.

Johnnie restored normality to the room in his inimitable fashion; "Well, this was great, we should do detention again some time."

The three of them laughed and Mr Carlisle seemed to relax.

"You guys are unique," Mr Carlisle said; "I don't know if your friends or more than that but... you are both very special."

A few months after that Mr Carlisle moved on from the school and the boys eventually found themselves taught by him again when they got to university. They never talked about it with him of course but Calvin and Johnnie wondered if Mr Carlisle, Dean, thought about that day.

Johnnie was still thinking about that day, about Dean and about Calvin when he was stirred from his daydream by someone coming into his room. He must have been half-asleep because we was jolted by the arrival.

"Sorry," Calvin said quietly, "Were you sleeping?"

"Eh, no. Not really," Johnnie replied.

It took effort for him to sit up properly and Calvin felt helpless watching Johnnie, unsure whether to help or not and unsure how to help if he tried.

Calvin felt nervous – he had been to see Johnnie during the time he spent in the neurosurgical intensive care unit, he had sat with Johnnie's parents and with his friends (Tom, Daniel, Victor, E.J.) but he had had very little alone time with his friend.

"How was the exam?" Johnnie asked.

It didn't seem like that long ago Calvin was messaging to say he as going into the exam room but it must have been hours for him to be finished and to have travelled all the way here.

"Oh, fine," Calvin said breezily.

Johnnie smiled at Cal's confidence, "You'll have done great then. You're always nonchalant when you've done great."

Calvin smiled sadly at the character observation and silence took the room.

"We... we haven't talked much, properly I mean, since..." Calvin as nervous about talking about their differences and about their fight and about their tacit falling out.

"There's been kinda a lot going on," Johnnie joked and the tension broke.

The both laughed.

"You called me," Cal said. "I don't know if you remember or not but when you felt not-right, you called me."

"Yea," Johnnie replied. Whether he remembered or not, he was willing to concede the point.

"Does that mean we're still," Calvin didn't want to ask if they were still friends; "Does that mean we might be ok?"

"Maybe," Johnnie replied; "I'm still pretty hurt."

They both knew he meant emotionally and it made the room sad; sad that Johnnie still cared and loved Calvin more than he could expect in return and sad that Cal didn't feel the same way. Except that Calvin's heart had been broken at the thought of loosing Johnnie and he wasn't sure what that meant for how he felt. He couldn't put any of that into words right now.

"Are you getting any better?" Calvin asked after a few minutes awkward silence.

"Getting there. I'm hoping to get out next week," Johnnie replied.

Johnnie knew he had a ways to go for his recovery and that he would have check-up's galore in his future but one step at a time – his focus was discharge from hospital, whatever came after that is hat would come after that.

"Great," Cal answered slowly, happily, sadly; in the way only someone in a brittle friendship can.

"Yea," Johnnie agreed.

"Just in time for our Trump Inauguration celebration," Calvin tried for levity.

"I had brain surgery, not a lobotomy," Johnnie replied dryly, also trying for flippancy.

The tension between them would remain as long as what was unsaid remained unsaid, thus Calvin spoke up.

"Listen," Cal said, desperate to clear the air. "You and me weren't on the best of terms before... I'd understand if you didn't want me to stay."

Calvin was close to tears and his voice as thick with emotion. This was a made or break moment; if Johnnie rejected Cal now it would be the end of everything and anything between them. Johnnie's brain flashed to images of Calvin naked; on his knees, Dean's cock in his mouth, on his bed when they had sex for the first time, on his bed when they fucked at the university Halls for the first time. All the times they had been together and all Johnnie had wanted was to make love more than fuck. To make love more than grow physically apart.

Whatever Johnnie wanted and whatever he felt didn't matter as fatigue took him. He rested back in his bed, aware that Cal was waiting for an answer.

"Stay," Johnnie answered and he could hear Calvin relax although his eyes were now closed so he could not see his friend. "I like being around you Cal, it's peaceful."

Calvin listened to Johnnie's sleepy voice and pulled up a chair beside him. Johnnie was already asleep by the time Cal took held hand.

The prelim exam had gone just fine...ish.

Even after the morning's distraction, Martin had brought all his concentration to bear from the moment he entered the exam to the moment he left. Now his mind relaxed and his only remainder that the exam had happened was the test paper he stuffed into his backpack. Martin checked his phone; had a message from E.J. wishing him luck with a smiley and xxx at the end which made Martin smile. He also had two voicemail's: one from Mum wishing him luck and reminding him she was out to dinner with dad tonight; the other from dad wishing him luck and reminding him he was out to dinner with mum tonight. His parents enjoyed taking nights out together every month or so, more frequently since Martin had got a life.

"How'd you do?" asked Sean, coming up from behind.

"Oh, ok I think," Martin replied breezily as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

They chatted about the exam and their respective choice of answers, the usual post-exam dissection that only made you feel bad about yourself. They were put out of their misery by the arrival of Connor, who had also sat the exam but who was far less inclined to reminisce about it.

"Kaz and Matt should be here soon, we were gonna hang out if you want to come?" Connor said to Martin.

"Yea, do you want to come back to mine?" Sean asked, then seemed to think about the implied come-on; "I mean, back to ours. To... help," the final supplication was made to Connor.

Connor helpfully clarified, "Do you want to go to Sean and Matt's house for an entirely platonic afternoon of Netflix and crisps?"

Poor naive Martin wasn't sure which, if either of them, was taking the piss.

"Alrighty, losers?"

The three lads turned to see Kazuo and Matt heading their way, dressed in casual outfits; neither of them were taking Higher English this year.

"Hello, lover," Connor replied to Matt's taunt.

Matthew rolled his eyes and shook his head but was smiling sincerely. Matthew was their designated driver. In the last six months, since turning seventeen, he has taken umpteen lessons and passed his test just a week ago. He was a good driver.

"Do you guys want a lift somewhere?" Matt asked.

"Zach Efron's house."

"Daniel Craig's house."

"Idris Elba's house."

"...Ryan Gosling's house?"

"For fuck's sake," muttered Matt amiably, turning his back on them as he led the way back to the car.

Connor moved towards Kazuo, "Thanks for the English tutorial, it was a big help."

"No problem but if you get a better mark than I did when I sat it last year, I might have to kill you," Kazuo replied and the two segued into a discussion about Daniel Craig.

"Can I ask you something?" Martin said to Sean as they trailed behind everyone else.

"Sure."

"Connor called Matt `lover' so were they ever... together?" he asked.

"Oh, go no," Sean replied; "Matt's straight."

Martin's surprise must have shown.

"Oh he knows what people think, that he and me are both raging gay boys but Matt was only ever curious. He's an ally now, a loyal one," Sean said with fondness.

"I guess I'm as bad as everyone else. Making assumptions," Martin admitted.

"He doesn't say anything because he worried that saying `hey, I'm not gay,' makes him sound defensive or that being gay would is a bad thing. And he wouldn't let anyone think that. He's got an off again on again girlfriend. In that order." Sean added.

"That must be hard," Martin said quietly.

"What, having a girlfriend? Totally," Sean replied facetiously.

"No," Martin said seriously; "Being straight in a group of friends where everyone else is gay. And people making assumptions about you... it must be what a lot of gay guys and girls feel like. Lonely. The only one. I mean, not you or Connor or Kazuo or even me. But other guys... that must be hard."

"Yea," Sean replied; he'd never thought about it like that before.

Several hours later and the boys were getting bored. The afternoon had given way to evening which had given way to Dominoes pizza. Martin had never had one before and found it extremely over rated. At any rate, they were getting bored until someone had a bright idea.

Half an hour later they were in the car and headed for the Symposium Athletics Club.

Martin and Connor were still, more or less, in their school uniforms. Shirts were untucked and ties dispensed with but both had put their blazers back on to combat the icy January temperatures. In the Symposium, Martin made an excuse to linger behind the others and sent a message off to E.J. to tell him he was there. Martin had high hopes of sneaking away with his boyfriend now – when the time came to leave the club.

When Martin joined the others it was to hear that the club was closing a few hours early for routine maintenance. It still gave them a few hours in which to burn some calories and work up a sweat. They all started with a swim, Martin borrowing a swimsuit from Sean. They had suggested he just go for a swim in his pants, but Martin declined. Kazuo had had the forethought to book an activity room which would be free in an hour: rowing machine, weights, treadmill –everything they would need to pass the rest of the evening away.

They rinsed under a shower after their swim and then changed in to short and t-shirts. Sean sneaked many a glance at Martin in the shower, but he still didn't seem to notice that boys checked him out a lot. After all the times Martin had showed off, all the things he'd done at the Pothos Emporium, he still didn't realise that people noticed him.

Shortly before eight pm, a handsome athletics assistant popped his head around the door to tell them the Symposium would be closing soon and they would have to wrap up their session. Half an hour later and they noticed the lights in the corridor going out; they really had to go now.

"You guys better be the maintenance team or you're in big trouble," joked E.J. from the door to the activity room.

Martin blushed at his boyfriend in the presence of his school friends.

"Sorry, we're just getting ready now," Connor replied on the groups behalf.

"I'll walk with you," E.J. said.

The boys filed out with Martin at the back of the group as they headed for the locker room. E.J.'s hand rubbed the hem of Martin's shorts, his hand brushing the back of Martin's thigh. Martin turned and half-grinned, half-glared at E.J. who smiled innocently in return.

"This place is dead," commented Matt as he looked around the darkened atrium between the entrance with its reception area and the locker room.

"You were told, the Symposium was closing early for maintenance," E.J. responded.

Actually, the maintenance men had called to say they were running late and that they would let themselves in which was fine by E.J. – he was thinking about an night with Martin now. In the locker room, the boys began stripping off but E.J. wasn't looking at them, he only had eyes for Martin who seemed oblivious to strolling naked around the locker room, waiting for the others to undress so they could shower.

It wasn't until everyone but Matt was naked that the boys made their way to the showers.

"You know, we all know you and Martin are dating," Matt said in a neutral voice: neither judging nor approving.

"Yea?"

"Yea. I guess you know about Martin's fun and games at school and work?" Matt continued neutrally so that if E.J. did not know, it wouldn't cause problems.

"I do," E.J. said and could not help smiling.

Matt smiled too; "I think I have a fun idea."

Matt might be straight but he still had a sense of adventure.

Along with Connor et al, he had watched the things Martin had done and bee intrigued that anyone could be so confident, blasé and brave. Matt knew his brother had a major crush on Martin and was not getting over it any time soon; he also knew that although Connor was dating Tom, he too liked Martin a lot. Perhaps not romantically, but physically Martin was very attractive, a recognition of which does not cease when your dating. Kazuo as unattached and not dreaming of dating Martin and therefore free to lust over him with impunity.

The boys, bar Matt, were all under the water and washing when the showers suddenly turned off. They looked around at each other as if the answer might be in the steam that hung between them.

"Sorry, water's been turned off now," E.J. said mischievously.

Martin, Connor and Sean exchanged glances.

"I guess you boys should be getting out of here? The Symposium has been closed for half an hour now," E.J. continued.

Back in the locker room, the three naked boys towelled dry and then reached for their lockers – which were open.

"Oh," said E.J. "I and Matt took care of your things. They're in the car, after all I really ought to have locked up by now."

Now they were getting it.

"Please put the towels in the hamper before you leave the locker room, they are Symposium property."

Martin laughed, Connor shook his head in cordial disbelief and Sean squeeked.

Their trainers were the only items left behind as they exited the locker room totally naked and entered the atrium. It was deserted now, but by day there would be a throng of activity. The three naked lads followed behind E.J. and when they got to the main entrance, they could see their nudity reflected in the glass.

Matt's car was idling just outside the entrance; good thing too because when the naked lads got outside they were reminded it was nippy January night. They climbed into the back seat while E.J. locked up.

Matt rolled down the window and leaned over to call to E.J.; "Can't believe you made them do that," he said, impressed.

"Can't believe they actually did it," E.J. replied; "You take them home, yea. I'll see to it Martin stays safe."

"I bet," Matt replied.

The car pulled away and in the back seat, Connor and Sean recovered from their exposure.

Martin shivered in the cold night and E.J. wasted no time getting him into his car and turning up the heat.

"I wasn't sure you would go for that. You know it was just a bit of fun, right?" E.J. said.

"I know. I'm thinking of ways to pay you back," Martin replied jokingly as the heating in the car brought warmth to his body.

It was strange being in a car, naked, with the night all around them; other cars passing oblivious to Martin's nudity. It was a bit of a turn on and if he hadn't just been chilled, Martin might have sprung an erection. In no time at all, E.J. as pulling into his drive way and offering Martin his shorts and t-shirt to put on.

"Oh, you're too generous," Martin said sarcastically; "Are you sure you don't want me to just go in naked?"

E.J. laughed and replied: "Are you kidding? This is a respectable neighbourhood."

Martin didn't dispute it and was thankful he would not have to walk the admittedly short distance from the car to the house in the buff. Even in the shorts and t-shirt, Martin was chilled by the time he entered the house. The running shorts ended well above the knee so his long legs were exposed to the nearly-zero temperatures; his arms too were cold to the touch.

Luckily, E.J. was more than willing to help heat Martin up. They kissed when the door was closed and enjoyed the embrace that came with it. The central heating was on and the whole house as toasty. When they stopped kissing, Martin asked about Victor, E.J.'s lodger.

"He's picking up Calvin from Glasgow, he went to see Johnnie," E.J. replied.

"How is he?" Martin asked, it was a strange thing to ask as he still did not really know E.J.'s friends or associates.

"He's getting better," E.J. relied vaguely, primarily because he didn't really know himself. "Y'know, Victor said he planned to take Calvin out tonight and maybe stay in Johnnie's room at the Halls. So we have the house to ourselves."

"Wow. What will we do with ourselves?" Martin asked.

"Why don't you have a shower first, then we can think of something?" E.J. suggested.

Martin bound up stairs, with E.J. watching Martin's sexy legs take the stairs two at a time. E.J. moved up the stairs more slowly, carrying Martin's bag with him as he climbed. In the bedroom, E.J. half undressed to make himself more comfortable.

Then a wonderful notion edged its way into E.J.'s head so he opened Martin's backpack and it coalesced. E.J. had a wicked idea; from Martin's backpack he removed his lover's school uniform.

Martin enjoyed the cascade of warm water on his head, refreshing his body and easing his muscles; washing the salt and sweat from his skin. He stood with his arms outstretched, the water flowing down his neck and back. He'd told a white lie before leaving Sean and Martin's house as they headed for the Symposium – leaving a message for his mum to say he was spending time with his friends and might be out all night. Spending time with his friends, check; out all night, check; out with friends all night, nope.

Martin shut off the water and grabbed a bath sheet from the rail; the towel was soft and dried his body to leave it almost as fresh and cosy as the towel itself. Martin put it in the hamper and then wrapped a smaller bath towel around his waist – it came only to just above the knee.

Martin opened the bathroom door, letting out the stream which followed him as he headed for the bedroom door. As Martin entered E.J.'s bedroom he stopped and broke into a smile as he took in the sight of E.J. in his school uniform but was dumbstruck for words.

E.J. eventually broke the silence; "You think I'm being silly."

"Oh, yes," replied Martin; "But I like it."

E.J. adjusted the school tie and moved towards Martin.

"I can't believe this thing fits me," E.J. admitted.

Halfway across the room, E.J. turned to look at himself in the mirror; the sight too him back in time nearly a decade and a half. But it looked very cute.

Martin wasn't surprised his uniform fit E.J. as they were similar in height and build; at a distance, E.J. could fool someone into thinking he was Martin. He didn't air this observation as E.J. seemed rather taken with seeing himself as a younger man again. Instead, Martin approached him, turned his head with a hand and kissed him.

"If I'm the naughty school boy, then who are you?" E.J. asked.

Martin thought for a minute; "I'm the P.E. teacher who fancies your hot arse."

"You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?" E.J. replied but Martin didn't get the Graduate reference and he didn't feel the need to call attention to it.

Martin moved towards the bed and sat down, spreading his legs as far as the towel tied around his waist would allow. From E.J.'s eye level, nothing under the towel was exposed but if he knelt down he would spy Martin's cock and balls; E.J. was very keen to see them tonight.

"Mr Jamieson," Martin said.

It was very odd to hear his last name used by Martin; it had only been mentioned once – on their first proper date three months ago. Never the less, E.J. got into character and moved to stand in front of Martin.

"Yes, coach?" E.J. asked.

"Coach? Do I look like I'm in a bad American TV movie to you? I'm you're P.E. teacher, so it's Mr McGuigan. Now come here and apologise for calling me something so stupid."

E.J. burst out laughing at Martin's improvisation; "Sorry. You're really good. I just wasn't expecting to get into character so much."

"Now!"

E.J. moved forward and bowed his head, "Sorry, Mr McGuigan."

"Kiss my feet, grovel a little; then say you're sorry again," Martin instructed.

E.J. dropped to his knees and kissed the top of each of Martin's feet. Not much of a foot fetishist, or podophilia, E.J. did not derive especial satisfaction from this but Martin's feet were very fresh and clean so it was not unpleasant.

As E.J. raised his eyes, he looked up the towel to see a semi-hard cock, lying long and thick between Martin's legs. By the time E.J.'s eyes reached Martin's in preparation for apologising again, Martin was smiling.

"Did you see something you liked, boy?" Martin asked.

"I guess so," E.J. replied noncommittally.

"Well I guess it's only fair you show me yours since I showed you mine," Martin said as he lay back a little on his arms.

E.J. stood up and stepped back a pace – Martin was beautiful to look at: tender and lithe with unblemished skin and a small hollow for his belly button. E.J. reached for the knot of the school tie and prepared to strip.

"Did I tell you to take the shirt or tie off?" Martin asked, owning the role of rough asshole P.E. teacher.

"Sorry, Mr McGuigan."

"Stop apologising and start listening, boy."

E.J. smiled, not quite excelling in his role as chastised school boy. E.J. hadn't put on shoes but he pulled the socks from his feet and then got to work on his belt buckle. He removed the belt completely and dropped it to the floor and then unbuttoned his trousers and let them drop to the floor.

Martin sat up straight, satisfied so far, then motioned for the boxers to drop. E.J. pushed them down as well so they too pooled around his ankles. His cock hung just as not quite soft as Martin's was.

"Step out of them," Martin commanded.

E.J. complied.

"How big does it get? Show me."

E.J. grabbed his dick and started stroking so that, within a minute, his cock was its full eight inches proud.

"Come closer, I can hardly see it from here," Martin admonished.

E.J. took two steps forward so his feet nearly touched the base of the bed and his erection was pointed in Martin's face. Martin took hold of it and gave it several experimental tugs which E.J. greatly enjoyed. Martin made to stand so E.J. stepped back again and the two lovers were again face to face, green eyes peering into green eyes.

"Take my towel off," Martin ordered.

E.J. pulled at the edge where the towel was tucked into itself and it came away easily. Martin's cock sprang up and connected with E.J.'s then they both bobbed facing one another, third eye peering into third eye.

"I think a good boy like you knows what to do next," Martin said.

E.J. did indeed know what to do next; he knelt down and put Martin's eight inch plus cock to his mouth. His lips smothered the head of Martin's penis and then his tongue glanced and danced across it. E.J. took his time licking flicking his tongue across the sensitive organ before putting it in his mouth and taking it deeper and deeper with each head movement. E.J. breathed through his nose as mouth was totally occupied by the big venous monster.

Martin looked down on E.J.'s efforts – E.J. who was still wearing the white shirt and school tie to create a strange vision. It was a picture Martin liked very much. His lover was also doing his best to optimise Martin's pleasure and he could tell and orgasm would be quickly forthcoming if he did not act soon.

He let E.J. work for another minute.

"Ok. Ok, lesson over," Martin said; "Maybe we should try something else?"

E.J. could not speak until his mouth was unoccupied with cock, pre-cum and saliva so he sat back, swallowed and then responded.

"What do you suggest, Mr McGuigan?" E.J. asked.

It was still weird using each other's second names.

"I suggest you practice putting on a condom and put that thing where it belongs," Martin answered.

As instructions went, it was fairly clear.

E.J. stood up again and followed his `teachers' instruction; rolling on a condom before smearing it with lubricant. He still had the shirt and tie on but with no instruction to take them off, E.J. left them where they were and turned for his next order.

"Lie down on the bed," Martin told him and took the lube from his hands.

Martin squeezed a generous amount onto his hands and smeared plenty onto his arse hole, working it in with a finger. E.J. lay down on the bed and waited for Martin to come. Martin stood up on the bed and towered over E.J., indeed Martin was so tall that up on the bed, his head scraped the ceiling. Martin stroked a few times then shuffled forwards; squatting down, he lowered his hole towards E.J. waiting cock. E.J. gripped his penis at the base of the shaft and held it vertical until Martin's sphincter made gentle contact.

It took strong thighs to hold the squat as Martin lowered himself onto E.J.'s cock and then rose up again, even with his hands flat on the bed to support himself. The process that was repeated several times with E.J. helpfully thrusting up to surprise Martin was some deep penetration. Martin looked down on E.J., thirteen or so years older than him, wearing his school shirt and tie and smiled with pleasure. Their sex continued like this until E.J. sensed Martin's discomfort with the incumbent position.

E.J. put his hands on Martin's thighs and held him down in a deep thrust; then he moved his hands to Martin's hips and slid them up a little until he was holding the waist just below the ribs on either side. With a quick motion he flipped Martin and himself to the left so they were now on their sides.

One of Martin's legs was caught under E.J.'s body while the other rested on top but E.J.'s cock was sill deep inside him. He pulled himself up until the cock popped out his ass and E.J. lifted himself to release Martin's foot from under him.

Martin rolled beside E.J. so they were face to face and kissed while their bodies pressed together. With a gentle hand on E.J.'s shoulder, Martin prompted E.J. back onto his back. Martin sat up and swung his leg over E.J. abdomen; he could feel the bottom edge of the shirt and the tail end of the tie against his bum. Martin was facing away E.J. as he shuffled forwards, down E.J.'s legs and again presenting his hole to E.J. cock. E.J. aimed it and pressed into the bull's eye.

With little thrusts back for Martin and jutting movements forward for E.J. the fucking resumed. Martin looked over his shoulder to get a look at E.J. who was sweating and panting with excretion. Martin gripped his own cock and started taking himself closer to orgasm, just as E.J. was getting there himself.

It didn't seem right to cum without facing each other so one last position change was made: this time Martin lay flat on his back, the top of his head nearly touching the head board. Martin brought up his legs to maximise access to his pummelled arse hole and also put his hands above his head to grip the headboard. Martin's armpits were exposed as E.J. pushed his cock back in for a third time and he watched as Martin's hard abdomen and chest rose and fell in excited, excreted, short breaths. Martin grabbed his cock again and wanked it while E.J. pushed his cock in and out. The friction of Martin's asshole emulating the friction of Martin's hand.

Martin stopped long enough to reach up and unbutton the school shirt half way and E.J, completed the task for the upper buttons. E.J. yanked the knot of the tie so it came apart but left the tie around his neck; it draped over either shoulder along with the open shirt. Martin's hands moved up and down E.J.'s chest, stoking it and feeling the hard muscle.

Soon Martin as masturbating again and when he came, he aimed his cock up towards E.J. who was leaning over Martin at the time; shots of cum hit E.J.'s chest and then dripped down onto Martin. Successive shots landed all over Martin's torso and his hand squeezed the last drops of cum from his balls.

E.J. came next, firing a shot of cum into the condom while had cock was still buried deep inside Martin. He pulled out and pulled of the condom to milk the last drops out and onto Martin's already messy chest. They were quite happy together, messy but happy.

An hour later they were sharing a shower that involved lots of slippery hands in nice places.

"We should try something like that again," suggested Martin.

"Maybe next time you should be the naughty school boy," E.J. suggested salaciously.

"Maybe," grinned Martin.

The suggestion got Martin thinking that he still hadn't taken the plunge, so to speak, and been on top. This was not because E.J. insisted on being the one to fuck, but for some reason Martin had reticence that he could not explain. But they didn't talk about that.

They finished their shower and the happy couple went to bed.

In the morning, E.J. got up for work and Martin got up to try and do some studding for his next prelim exam which he had a week to prepare for. E.J. gave Martin a lift home, almost all the way but Martin was reticent about risking his parents seeing E.J. – an event he was not yet ready for.

At the bottom of the street, E.J. let Martin out of the car but Martin leaned over to kiss goodbye before opening the car door.

"Love you," Martin said as he stepped out onto the road.

E.J. smiled happily; "Love you too."

When Martin arrived home minutes later, his dad was already away for work but his mum wasn't. She usually would be but he wasn't at the hospital today, she was teaching and not for another hour.

She was sat in the sitting room and Martin immediately knew something was bothering her.

"What's wrong?" Martin asked once he'd made them both a cup of tea.

"I... We. We found your picture," his mum said.

Martin had no idea what she was talking about.

"There was an old photo in the kitchen when we got home. Your mum is in it," she expanded.

"Oh," Martin replied.

He had put away the letter but had completely neglected the photograph itself. That seemed like a long time ago.

"It came yesterday," Martin admitted. "There was a letter with it. From my uncle, my birth mother's brother."

His mum just nodded.

"Your dad and I want you to have this," she replied. "We want you to have whatever answers you think you need. So this is all we have."

She gave him a large shoebox, the contents of which shifted around when he took it.

"Do you need me?" she asked.

"Always," Martin replied and then hugged her; "I'll always need you. But I should open this alone."

"I know, sweetie," She seemed ok with this and stood up to leave the room; "I don't know if the remaining letters will tell you anything you don't already know but..."

There was nothing else to say after that.

Martin sat and looked at the box for a while and then took it upstairs when his mum left the house. Alone at last, Martin felt prepared to look inside.

The box contained an assortment of things, much of which might be considered junk but that, as his only tie to a woman he would never know, Martin regarded as small treasures. A tiny band with "Baby Monaghan" and Martin's date of birth: "08/09/99."

There were more letters in his mother's hand and more photos.

Martin found a leaflet from the ceremony of his mother's funeral; whether his parents attended or not seem irrelevant. He had another thing belonging to her, the final thing, the full stop.

Martin found himself choked up looking at it: there were no prayers or hymns; his mother having predecided on a secular funeral service. It almost made Martin wish he believed in a higher power to look over her.

At the bottom of the box, Martin unfolded the final treasure of the box: his birth certificate. There was so much on it that Martin could not take it all in. His mother's name appeared again and his date of birth and...

Martin felt breathless and his heart rate quickened such that he could feel the blood pump in his temples and his heart battering against the inside of his chest. His eyes traced it over and over again, but it could not be.

It was impossible.

Martin turned the certificate over, looking for flaws or trickery or for the information to simply change but it remained there resolutely: Fathers name(s) and surname.

His father's name.

He knew his father's name.

He KNEW his father's name.

Ewan.

Jamieson.

"E.J.?"

I hope this has been worth the wait. I look forward to hearing what you have thought of the latest developments.

Please consider making a donation to Nifty to cover their running costs. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Thank you to everyone who has emailed so far to show thier interest in the progression of the story. It's fantastic to hear from readers and I'll reply to all so if you enjoyed this story copy and paste my email and send me a message. niftyencomiums@gmail.com

If you are enjoying this story, I have also written:

School Exhibitionism - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/school-exhibitionism

The Symposium - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-symposium/