The Embarrassment of Riches

The Embarrassment of Riches Chapter Sixteen: The Heart-Shaped Box

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.

When something good ends abruptly and without warning; without explanation and without closure... you don't just let it go, do you?

E.J. had tried calling and texting and messaging Martin without success and even if he accepted that Martin didn't want him anymore, E.J. felt he deserved better than to just be put out in the cold. But E.J. was reluctant to just turn up at Martin's work, certainly not his home... Martin's school? Yea, thirty-one year old cruising a high school and waiting for the boys to get out, that sounded like a genius idea.

Everywhere E.J. looked there was hearts and flowers to be seen, which reminded him of what he had lost. It was the weekend before Valentine's day and E.J. had planned on having plans with Martin for the big day. It was not a simple case of two and a half weeks has past, now get over it. How could E.J. just get over it when he didn't even know why it was over? He could play the game if the rules made sense. But with Valentine's just days away, it might just be what he needed to get Martin talking to him; to get him back or at least the closure he deserved. He had had plans for the day after all...

The Pothos Emporium was as busy as Martin had ever seen it and he could swear the number of visitors had swollen in the run up to Valentine's Day. The shop was adorned with red and pink paraphernalia and Martin himself was being asked to get into the spirit of things.

"Come now, Martin, how can I be expected to sell our seasonal products without showing off what people can buy?" Graham said reasonably.

Martin was starting to see through Graham's `reasonable' tone of voice and seeing it for what it was - subtle manipulation.

"I dunno," Martin replied; "Maybe buy more mannequins?"

"Very droll," Graham said; "You are the best mannequin I have. I thought you enjoyed your work here?"

"I do," Martin replied.

"I thought, to be honest, that you enjoyed showing off," Graham ventured carefully.

"I do," Martin admitted.

Sean entered the staff room just then and sensed he was interrupting something. Graham turned and raised an eyebrow at Martin; could Martin be persuaded if he had a companion, a partner in crime?

"Sean. We were just discussing your uniform for this week," said Graham.

Sean lifted a pink ribbed vest and skimpy red underwear with darker red piping. When he looked at it his eyes boggled as he considered just how he would look in it and just how many people would see him in it too.

Martin for his part actually felt better about the situation now that he was not the only one being exploited. Sean was a handsome lad too and Graham had made very little use of his assets so far; Martin could see that Sean was very attractive - cute and even hot - but it was not something he had given much cognisance to when he was with E.J. Now that he was single, Martin had taken more notice of other men and boys and noticed more when men were noticing him.

"Sean, I would like yours and Martin's attire to mirror each one another's today. You can do that, can't you?" asked Graham. It was the first time Graham had asked Sean to exploit his sexuality and he wasn't sure how he felt about it, except that he would do anything to be close to Martin.

"Yes," was Sean's answer; for want of any other response.

Sean was down to his underwear when the other guys in Graham employ - Sandy, Joe and Sam - walked into the staff room.

"Oh, wow," said Sandy as he checked out Sean's excellent swimmers physique and long thin legs wrapped up only in a pair of boxers.

The other lads working the shop floor for the day also stopped to watch because Sean's only option was to drop his boxers to put on his new `uniform.' Somewhat reluctantly, Sean pushed his boxers down but turned his back first. The guys didn't mind because they still got an excellent ass-shot before Sean pulled the salmon coloured briefs up to cover his penis. But in turning his back on them, he had faced Martin and only realised the full-frontal mistake as the briefs came to cover his cock and balls.

Sean blushed, pulled on the matching vest and turned back to the other guys; "What do you think?"

"Fantastic," replied Sam as he swept his long fringe from his face with a smile that revealed a smiley piecing that was almost hidden inside his mouth.

The red-pink hue of Sean's clothes were fitting for the Valentine's day theme and contrasted the sexy number Martin was expected to wear for the day of love.

Martin was still hovering in his black briefs as he considered the `uniform' he had been given. It consisted of a black mesh vest and briefs with white piping. When Martin tested his hand against the crotch of the briefs, he could see his hand through it. Even with clothes on, customers in the shop would see his nipples and more importantly his cock and balls.

Martin was aware of all four lads watching him now; unabashed, Martin pushed down his briefs without turning away from them and let the sight of his five inch flaccid cock return to their memory. They had all seen it before at one time or another after all. Then Martin pulled up the briefs and looked down – sure enough his cock and balls were clearly visible and twisting around to look at the back, his creamy ass was also showing through. Martin pulled on the vest and looked up at the group.

"Does my ass look big in this?" Martin quipped.

Martin and Sean spent much of the morning on parade around the shop, distracting the shoppers and generating word of mouth for the store so that by the early afternoon the Pothos Emporium was getting a little claustrophobic.

Graham had asked Martin to work in the underwear section of the shop and when he was joined by Sean, being pressed close to his attractive peer gave Martin a longing he had not expected. He wondered if this was how most teenagers felt when horney and alone: find someone, anyone will do. Sean, in fairness, was not just anyone – he was a friend and someone with whom Martin enjoyed spending time with.

It was probably because Martin was still reeling from being single and feeling guilty over how he had dealt with the knowledge that E.J. was his dad that let to Martin's thoughts wandering to ideas he would never have considered before. Since joining Connor's social circle, Martin had realised how much he had missed out on; his friends had explored their sexuality together while he had not had any sexual encounters, except his own hand, before meeting E.J.

Thus it was in working closely with a scantily clad Sean in a hot and confined space that led to him saying; "You know, this vest is really starting to chafe my nipples."

Sean laughed at the declaration and turned from where had been arranging a pile of t-shirts by size.

"Well, you could always take it off," Sean suggested.

There was a hitch in Sean's voice that he feared Martin would hear; but he didn't, such subtleties still flying over Martin's head. Sean may have wished Martin "saw him" in the potential-partner sense of the term but was willing to settle for watching Martin peel off the sweaty, partially see-through vest. It left Martin in nothing but the black mesh briefs – Sean cold not help but transfer his gaze from Martin's gorgeous chest the cock that was only partially concealed inside them.

This was something Martin noticed because when Sean's gaze lifted again, Martin grinned.

Sean blushed.

The men in the shop continued to browse and peruse, taking every available opportunity to brush past the handsome boys in their scanty clothes. They were used to Martin exposing a bit of flesh by now, though even for him the briefs were showing a bit more than normal. But the addition of Sean was a very nice treat. Graham had been working for quite a long time towards this moment and had not misjudged the chemistry between the two teens. Though even Graham had not have divined the reason for the chemistry he perceived.

Martin wanted to get over E.J., actually he wanted to be under E.J. but that was not an option.

Sean wanted to get his leg over Martin, but would settle for even heavy petting.

"Sean, what are you doing?" Graham asked as he materialised, seemingly from nowhere.

"Sorry?" Sean answered.

"I thought I said this morning that I wanted your attire to mirror Martin's today," Graham said in the serious voice that he had practiced with Martin.

With Martin, the serious voice had exploited Martin's innate naiveté. With Sean, it worked to exploit his desire to please.

"I thought it did?"

"Martin is wearing briefs, is he not?" Graham replied.

Sean turned to look at Martin; long legged and bear chested and... Sean started getting a cheeky little erection so staved his attraction to Martin by returning his attention to his boss.

"Yes, he is."

"And what are you wearing?" Graham asked incredulously.

"...also, briefs?" answered Sean.

He was caught off guard by Graham's line of questioning but he would get his meaning in a moment.

"Also a vest," Graham said bluntly.

"Oh."

"Valentine's day is a couple's event and I wanted you to mirror Martin because I want you both to be the reflection of what Valentine's day represents," Graham articulated his rationale in the same talking to a stupid person way as he usually reserved for Martin.

"You should take your vest off," Martin translated.

Graham's head swivelled around to look at Martin - he was just as surprised as Sean to hear Martin say it. Martin had come a long way since the day he stood in the Pothos in just his briefs because his clothes had been `stolen.'

"Oh, eh... I dunno..." was Sean's reply.

"It's no big deal, Sean," Martin said nonchalantly.

Martin's seductive green eyes overrode Sean's common sense and a second later he too was wearing just his briefs in the middle of the store in a bustling shopping centre on a busy weekend shopping day.

It took a while for anything else to happen, but Graham knew it would. He could rely upon the ingenuity of gay men to prey on hot nearly-naked guys.

"Say, Martin, those are some really great looking briefs," said a painfully cute lad with skin like caramel.

Martin grinned at Ali, who was something of a regular customer and admirer. He was in his early twenties with a boyfriend in tow who didn't seem to mind the flirting. Actually, the ebony and ivory couple seemed to take turns at flirting with him.

"Oh, thanks. They're on special offer at the moment," Martin replied.

"We'll take any special offers you want to make," Ali replied.

Josh, his long suffering boyfriend, chipped in; "How much do you really see through those briefs?"

"Come closer if you like. See for yourself," Martin replied.

Martin tucked his hand into the mesh briefs and played his fingers across the interior to show the movement of his fingers. Josh, having been invited came closer and stepped behind Martin to check out the arse of the briefs. Emboldened by Martin's display, he slipped his hand into the back of the briefs and gave Martin's arse a squeeze.

Martin tensed his cheeks but did not pull away.

"I still think it's hard to tell how much they show. Maybe you could take them off so I can have a better look?" Ali asked.

Martin smirked at the suggestion and waited long enough for Josh to pull his hand out of the back of the briefs before pushing them down and off and handing them over to Ali. He was now naked in the centre of the shop.

The black briefs against Ali's brown skin created a reveal that was more subtle but no less alluring. Of course Ali had no intention of returning the briefs to the nude Martin and he had no intention of asking for them. Martin was quite happy to show off his arse and expose his big flaccid cock to anyone who wanted to see it.

There was a time when Martin scarcely noticed the attention he got, but that was when all of his attention was on E.J. so now the eyes of a hundred men was something that set his heart racing. Martin surreptitiously made his way closer to Sean, who had watched in awe from a safe distance. Sean was struggling to hide his rock hard cock inside the red briefs; the waistband of the briefs was pressing open as his cock filled out and stretched towards his left hip, for it was in that direction his dick was tucked.

"Sean, I believe we have spoken about this before," Graham said when he found them again.

Sean looked faintly terrified.

"Please mirror Martin's attire," Graham said.

Sean's heart was beating very fast. He wanted to protest the appropriateness of seventeen year old boys being naked in a shop but could hardly do that without jeopardising future possibilities of ogling Martin. Besides, deep down Sean had known this might happen. When he had asked Graham for a job it was to get closer to Martin. Much closer if possible.

This was much closer.

Being scared and doing it anyway, that's brave.

Sean slipped his hands into the briefs, looked around to make sure Connor or Kazuo or his brother Matt were not watching – that was how this adventure with Martin had started after all – and then pushed the briefs down and off.

Sean had never been totally naked like this before. A busy boy's locker room, sure, but not a busy shop in the centre of town. He felt exposed... he was exposed.

Graham was delighted by Sean's show of excitement: a rock hard cock, its head already shiny with pre-cum. When Martin sidled up beside Sean, Graham saw Sean's fear and desire displayed in equal measure. Martin was not afraid, Graham noticed: he was encourage by the attention and revelled in it. Martin did not use to be so hungry for the validation and attention of others, Graham wondered what had caused this but only for long enough for him to think of his next move.

"Well, I thought you boys should mirror each other but this is more than I could have asked for," Graham admitted with something approaching humility. "Perhaps I could ask for one more thing?"

Martin's had automatically reached for Sean's and the contact almost made Sean yelp with contentment.

"Well, it is Valentine's day coming up. The day of love. Perhaps you boys could demonstrate an act of love here... now," Graham said.

Martin took Sean hand and led him to the same spot around which men had watched Martin be measured by the tailor Oscar. Martin kissed Sean and groped his penis so that Sean feared he would splatter a load of cum right then but he resisted and then recovered. As the boys had been asked to mirror once again, they used their initiative and lay on the floor in a space at the centre of the shop. They lay facing each other but head to toe so they could each take the other's cock in their mouths.

Martin and Sean were sixty-nining.

Their mouths and dick's were quickly wet and full. Martin had never tasted cock apart from E.J.'s; every thought Martin had seemed to come back to his lover... his boyfriend... his... stop it!

Martin had to stop thinking about E.J.

Sean had tasted multiple cocks but never one of someone whom he desired as much as Martin. It was a hopeless crush, an infatuation: that is what Sean had told himself. Except this moment proved it was not hopeless. With his penis in Martin's mouth and Martin's in his, Sean was dangerously indulging thoughts of much more than just casual sex.

With progressive sucks, Sean shifted his body closer to Martin; their bodies almost touching in a contact that for Sean resembled intimacy. For Martin the heat and the sex were empowering; he had desired to find a way to push his guilt and longing for E.J. away and taking Sean's six and a quarter inches was achieving that quite nicely.

In fact, Martin found himself feeling just a little jealous that it had taken him until now to find friends with whom he could explore sex; for that is all this was to him, an exploration.

Sean gripped the base of Martin's cock and knocked the big dick against his tongue before licking it and sucking it back into his mouth. Martin returned the provocation by swirling his tongue around the head of Sean's cock and stimulating it nearly to climax.

Suddenly, Martin pulled back and sat up then pushed on Sean's shoulder so Sean was on his back. Clambering onto all fours, Martin moved himself over Sean so they were still in a sixty-nine position but Sean was flat on his back and Martin was looming over him. Martin was positioned almost doggy style so some of the observers could see his puckered hole. Sean lifted his head to take Martin's cock back in his could and Martin could feel Sean's hips rise to stab his cock in the general direction of Martin's face.

Sean could take an eye out with that thing.

Martin deep throated Sean's cock with relative ease while Sean was experiencing for the first time in his life some difficulty taking the entire cock of his sex-partner in his mouth. Martin's big dick was the biggest he had ever had.

Sean was in heaven.

Goodness only knows how long their mission to cum lasted. Sean slid his hands up Martin's sweat-slick back so his hands could play with the tender sphincter of Martin's ass hole and it did the trick. Moments later, with a finger buried deep in his arse, Martin's cock let lose a stream of hot cum into Sean's mouth.

The taste was enough to excite Sean's own testicles and they too deposited seed into the waiting mouth above. Cum dribbled from Martin's mouth as much due to gravity as to volume too great to be swallowed in one go.

The crowd around them were delighted with the display and dispersed enough for Sean and Martin to stand and eventually to move though the masses. Sweat soaked and a little bedraggled and not to mention exhausted, neither boy knew what to say. Not until much later, when they were dressed conservatively again.

"That was really..." Sean started to say but wasn't sure how emphatic he should be.

"Awesome," Martin offered to Sean's deep satisfaction.

Martin did not appreciate the strength of feeling behind Sean's thoughts.

Sean did not appreciate Martin was running from his problems through distraction and self-destruction.

"Yea, awesome. We should, y'know, do it again? Another time?" Sean half said and half asked.

"Defiantly," Martin replied.

A quarter of an hour after work and Sean was waiting for his lift home. He felt quite contented and the proposal of future relations with Martin, positively accepted, had given Sean a glow that Matt did not fail to notice.

"So, do you want to tell me why your grinning away like the Cheshire cat?" his brother asked.

And so Sean told his twin about his adventure in the Pothos Emporium and when he finished, Matt was quite for a long time. Sean was starting to feel uncomfortable for his tale had been regaled with such enthusiasm and excitement, he was unsettled by Matt's stony silence.

"Are you planning on saying anything outloud or are you keeping your thoughts to yourself?" Sean asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage but it came out as caustic.

"I don't think you'd like what I had to say," Matt admitted.

"We tell each other everything. Since when have I resented what you have to say?" Sean asked genuinely, his grievance at Matt's lack of excitement now forgotten.

"Since you fell for Martin big time," Matt responded, then added; "And since you started doing stupid things."

"Like what?"

"Like getting naked in a town centre shopping centre," Matt replied as if it was obvious.

"Yea... but... well... Martin does it," Sean said lamely.

Matt rolled his eyes; "Yea but Martin is special in the held-back sense of the word," he jested, but half meant it.

"I really, really like him, Matt," Sean said pathetically.

"I know. That's the problem; I get why you'd do anything to get closer to him but..." Matt didn't want to say it.

"But?"

"He doesn't see you that way," Matt said quietly and instantly regretted it.

Sean looked like he had been punched; "You're right. I don't like what you have to say."

Matt sighed; "Look, you know I love you. But Martin is oblivious to how you feel. And he didn't blow you because he wants to be your Valentine. He did it for the same reason he wanked off in the shop window last year or jerked off on McMann or stripped for the sex ed. video. He enjoys that stuff."

Sean seethed in silence, resenting every word that came out of Matt's mouth and mostly because it struck a nerve and rang more true than the fantasy Sean had concocted for himself.

"He had a boyfriend. He's just broken up. How do you know I'm not the right person for him now? How do you know he won't be... not-oblivious and want me too?" Sean asked.

"I don't know," Matt started to say.

"No! You don't. So shut up then," Sean hit back.

So Matt shut up and they drove home in silence; Sean regretting taking his anger out on Matt and Matt regretting hurting his brother - even if it was out of a desire to protect him. The truth was that Sean wanted Martin to want him and it was an inconvenient truth to consider that Martin would never look at Sean in that way.

Sean believed that Martin must feel something after what they did that afternoon; plus, they had been spending more and more time together. Friends at school and colleagues at the weekend, it must be fostering the foundation for something, right?

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up. I don't want you to get hurt," Matt said at the end of their journey, the first thing either of them had said for ten minutes.

"You hurt me," Sean replied spitefully.

Because it's always easier to take things out on someone who doesn't deserve it.

Martin was making his own journey but only as far as a late night cafe to meet uncle Frazer - his mother's brother. The first time they had met, Frazer had confirmed Martin's worst fears: that E.J. was his real dad. This evening he hoped he could start feeling like a person again.

When Martin saw his estranged uncle he noticed, not for the first time that he was a good-looking man whose dark rimmed glasses complimented his short black hair and emphasized his blue eyes.

"Hi Martin," Frazer said breezily.

"Hey, have you been waiting for long?" Martin asked.

"Nope. You gave me enough time to get highly caffeinated," he answered.

"Glad I could help."

They settled down with some small talk but Frazer knew that Martin still had questions. They had talked about Martin's birth parents before but Farer could see the doubt in his nephew's eyes: the questions about where he came from and who he was at the beginning.

Frazer enjoyed talking about his sister, but it made him miss her and ultimately Martin had more questions about his dad. For a boy who was not too savvy, Martin was adept at manipulating the conversation without Frazer really noticing.

"Do I really look like my dad?" Martin asked.

"Well, you're seventeen and Jamie had moved away by that age but, yea. You look like I imagine he would have at that age," Frazer had replied.

There was a glint in his eye when he spoke about E.J., or Jamie as Frazer had known him.

"What did you look like at that age?" Martin asked curiously.

"Younger," Frazer jested; "Actually, I might have a picture."

Frazer pulled out his phone and flipped through his facebook photos, stopping at photo from 2010.

"That was me," Frazer said with a hint of reticent admission.

Martin took the phone and looked at the boy in the photo. Seventeen, gawky, with kinky (as in wavy) black hair, glasses and a too-dorky-to-be-cool Captain America t-shirt; he looked sweet though and there was a family resemblance.

"Yea, I got bullied at school," Frazer said uncomfortably; "It was a bad time anyway. By then we knew Laura was sick."

Martin didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Instead he flipped through a few more photos and they talked about Frazer's years at university which had been an awakening after the years he spent repressed and subdued at high school. When Martin got to a photo taken on a sunny beach four years ago, Frazer became slightly stiffer in his seat.

"What happened to your arm?" Martin asked.

A twenty year old Frazer was stood on a sunny beach in a British summer and squinting at the sun behind the camera. He also had a plaster cast on his arm.

"Ah," Frazer replied and reached to take his phone back off Martin; "I broke it... it got broke."

"Got broke?" Martin repeated automatically.

"I was in a bad relationship," Frazer admitted, his gaze falling to his feet.

"Someone did that to you?" Martin asked, horrified at the idea.

Frazer didn't answer right away, then; "Yes. I've been single for more than three years now after finding the guts to leave him. It's hard... to leave someone who's bad for you, or to you. It's hard when you still care about them."

"I can't imagine caring about someone who would do that to you," Martin answered.

Frazer smiled and Martin's innocence.

"It's complicated. People think they know better, that it would never happen to them, that they'd not put up with it... but they don't know. But one thing is right, I left him. I left him because he was a shit," Frazer said, then thought for a second; "And you, Martin. Why did you leave your guy?"

Martin looked stunned for a moment.

"How do you mean?" Martin asked.

"I mean it's obvious you had a bad break up. Do you want to talk about it?"

Martin did want to talk, but didn't too. He could confide in Frazer: close, honest, trust worthy – but not so close that it would be difficult to be around him again after the truth came out.

Maybe not the whole truth.

Martin had been walking a fine line already with Frazer. Martin knew who his father was – he had met the man Frazer knew as Jamie. Martin had dated E.J., Jamie, his own estranged dad. But Frazer did not know that; in fact Martin had feigned ignorance at knowing anything about E.J.

But Martin did want to talk about the break up.

"I've never broken up with someone before... it sucked," Martin said.

"Yea," agreed Frazer; "Why'd you break up?"

"It's complicated. But I had to, I just... had to. I can't tell you why. I couldn't even tell him why. That doesn't make any sense, does it?" Martin asked rhetorically.

"No," Frazer answered anyway; "You broke up with a guy and didn't tell him why?"

"Kinda."

"What? Not even a - you're a really nice guy but you broke my fucking arm and you're a bad-tempered prick who's never done blaming others for his own pathetic weaknesses?" Frazer paused after exercising his own demons for a moment, then added; "Y'know, or something like that."

Martin sighed; "He was a good man. A wonderful person. I just couldn't..."

Frazer's face softened when Martin's voice cracked.

"Look, I'm sorry if I wasn't exactly sympathetic. You don't owe me an explanation. You might owe this guy one, but if you can't do that... don't you at least think you should tell him it wasn't something he did?" Frazer asked reasonably.

Martin thought about that. Then he thought some more. But he didn't know what else to say.

A FEW DAYS LATER

Daniel was slouched in a chair with his feet up on another as Tom held up two options.

"This one," Tom asked, then swapped hands; "Or this one?"

"I like the first one," Daniel replied.

Tom looked at it again and nodded slowly to himself.

"No, I mean I like the first one," Daniel said as he stretched out his hand; "Can I borrow it?"

"Ha fucking ha," Tom replied happily; "You're meant to be helping."

"I am helping. I'm offering comic relief," Daniel said but didn't even sound convinced himself.

"Maybe you should stick to knock knock jokes," Tom suggested.

"The second one goes with your hair and your eyes. And it looks cute," Daniel offered honestly.

Tom made a satisfied little noise and passed the other shirt to Daniel who was very pleased with the offering. Tom looked again at the chosen shirt holding it out in front of himself at arms length.

It was white but covered in green and orange flower-shaped patterns; some were hollow outlines and some filled with their respective colour. The shirt buttons and the inside or the collar and cuffs were also orange, except for the top button which was as green as half the blossoming shapes on the shirt. The emerald colour matched Tom's eyes and the orange... well it was much more orange than Tom's hair but it was still nice.

"Thanks," Tom accepted the compliment and pulled off his t-shirt.

Tom was very skinny, his ribs showing when his arms stretched up and his waist narrow enough to show off the curve of the pelvic bone beneath his pale skin.

"Geez, I forget how skinny you are. That is properly skinny. Have you ever heard of a fucking cheese burger?" Daniel jested

Tom just shrugged in response.

"You could use some cushion for the pushin', that's all I'm saying," Daniel added.

"Cushion for the..." Tom sputtered; "Can we talk about something else?"

Daniel thought for a minute, then said; "Knock, knock."

It was February the fourteenth and Tom was nearly dressed for his Valentine's Day date with Connor, or Ephraim as Tom alone was allowed to call him. Tom had been trying since the weekend to persuade Daniel to make plans with Calvin, but had had little success.

"We just think it's a bit soon," Daniel said as Tom started doing something with his hair; "We both think a Valentine's Day dinner when you've been dating less than three weeks is a bit..."

"Premature?" Tom offered.

"Exactly."

"And is going off premature a consistent problem in your relationships?" Tom asked.

Daniel laughed in response; "I deserved that for making fun earlier, didn't I?"

"Yea."

"Ok."

"You guys haven't just met, though. And you've had one date already..." Tom said, ever the matchmaker.

"Alright match-stick man, that's enough," Daniel said with a tone of finality.

Tom tutted then asked: "What are you guys doing for Valentine's night then?" Tom asked fatalistically.

"We're gonna watch a couple of movies. He's picking on, I'm picking one," Daniel shrugged nonchalantly but it was clear from the expression on his face he thought the idea was rather...

"Cosy. That sounds real cosy," Tom said.

"Whatever," Daniel said with a chuckle at Tom's knowing expression; "So after dinner; you're place or his? It's a school night after all."

From some people this comment would have been pass-remarkable of Ephraim still being a high school boy while Tom was a twenty year old University student. But from Daniel, with whom Tom was close owing to the number of classes they shared, it was just a passing remark.

"I don't know yet," Tom said with a smile that was open and happy.

There was another reason that Tom and Daniel had fostered a positive, comforting and easy friendship. In the beginning: Tom had been attracted to Johnnie, Daniel to Calvin and both had been under the impression that Johnnie and Calvin were... Johnnie-and-Calvin.

That assumption had been put paid to in recent months.

Plus Tom had found Ephraim and gotten over his crush on Johnnie way before the shit hit the fan.

"You know, it's funny..." Daniel said from his in the corner of Tom's room.

"Hmm?"

"A year ago Calvin and Johnnie were still fooling around and having sex and looking like they were the last two to figure out they were actually a couple. And a year ago you were all puppy-eyes around Johnnie..."

Tom interrupted with: "And you were keeping a shrine dedicated to Calvin," he retorted.

"I did not have a shrine," Daniel defended.

"Hey, what you were doing with binoculars and a parabolic microphone is none of my business," Tom joked.

"I miss the days when you were quiet and unassuming," Daniel said then brought the conversation back on track; "My point was. It's been all change lately."

The more things change, the more they stay the same - yea, right!

Tom had to agree. Six months ago, as they all prepared to start back at university, Tom would never have called all of this. There had appeared to be so many obvious avenues of development but nothing had turned out the way they imagined it would.

"And you and me..." Tom eventually added.

Daniel lifted his eyes and caught Tom's as they were reflected in the mirror.

"Yea. You and me..." Daniel said.

"Why didn't that work out?" Tom asked as he turned around.

They had secretly dated for two months in the summer between first and second year and even slept together in the sexual sense once. They never told any of their friends; it was a nice secret between them. Not a secret held out of shame but rather because it was nice for it to be just theirs alone.

"You were in love with man you hadn't met yet," Daniel answered.

Tom graciously accepted the assessment of his feelings for Ephraim, though neither he nor Ephraim had said the `L' word yet.

"It's all worked out though, right? I mean, you are happy too?" Tom asked Daniel.

Daniel just nodded.

After a moment Daniel facetiously broke the silence; "So! Knock knock..."

Knock knock.

Martin rose from the sofa to answer the front door. He was home alone for Valentines night – a few weeks ago he was sure he'd celebrate it in one fashion or another with E.J. but finding out E.J. was his father had put paid to that. Martin was still having some difficulty dealing with the whole thing; his behaviour at work at the weekend, what he did with Sean, his appetite to perform rather than being compelled to participate was all symptomatic of his spiralling down.

The year book photo, giving Sean a blowjob... Martin almost felt himself coming apart at the seams but every time he consciously thought about it, he pushed those thoughts aside and opted for not dealing with it. Burying the problem, like burying one's head in the sand: no problem is so big it can't be ignored.

Or not.

At the front door, Martin received a parcel his neighbour had taken in for him while he had been at school and his parents at work. It was addressed to him and although it was an anonymous-looking box, but Martin just knew it was from E.J.

He was afraid to open the small and inconspicuous box - since finding out who E.J. really was, Martin had been trying to understand how it. He still loved E.J. and still thought about him, still wanted him and still wanted to be with him. How much harder was it for E.J. who did not know the truth?

Genetic Sexual Attraction was the term he had come across on the internet; Martin prayed to the god he didn't believe in that his parents didn't somehow find the internet history he had comprehensively deleted on the subject. Genetic Sexual Attraction described the attraction between family members, especially when separated and then meeting for the first time.

Anyway, the box.

Martin unpacked the plain box that was only a few inches cubed and fished around inside. He pulled out a red heart-shaped box that was about the size of a ring box. Martin felt his heart pound as he contemplated what was inside. A ring? A ring?!

Martin opened the box but it was not a ring inside.

Inside the box was a thimble.

Curled inside the thimble was a piece of paper and on the paper was a few lines of beautiful hand written script in E.J.'s hand writing. It read:

{Wendy also said she would give him a kiss if he liked, but Peter did not know what she

meant, and he held out his hand expectantly. "Surely you know what a kiss is?"

she asked, aghast. "I shall know when you give it to me," he replied stiffly, and not

to hurt his feeling she gave him a thimble.}

Martin understood immediately why this had been given to him. Peter Pan was a book they both cherished and had talked about or referenced several times during their relationship. As a Valentine's Day gift it was as close to perfect as could be.

Which is why Martin was crying.

Martin was again sorry for his own pain and the pain he had caused E.J. and he knew he could not ignore E.J. any more. He could not tell E.J. the truth by any means but he could try to settle things: he owed E.J. that at least.

Martin picked up his phone and called E.J.

Martin had deluded himself, briefly, into thinking he could resolve things over the phone and it would all be hunky-dory in fifteen minutes. Ultimately they agreed to meet at the Symposium where E.J. was still hard at work.

Valentine's night trying to jiggle rota's and overtime to cover for a sick staff member was not E.J.'s idea of fun. Worse, Hari was still expected to be off work for months to come and E.J. was starting to consider other options – like hiring a temporary replacement. E.J. was planning to pack up for the night very soon; still, it was a welcome break to step out of his office and into the cool night.

Seeing Martin for the first time in three and a half weeks (was that all it had been?) was hard.

Seeing E.J. for the first time in three and a half weeks (had it been that long?) was hard.

"Hi," said Martin.

E.J. suddenly thought how young Martin looked.

"You wanna come in? It's cold out here," E.J. said.

"I'm fine," Martin said through chattering teeth.

"Ok."

"I got your... your gift," Martin said and it was surprisingly hard to talk to the man he loved.

"And?" E.J. asked expectantly.

"It was beautiful, thank you. You shouldn't have."

E.J. had bought it before they had broken up, but the gesture remained genuine, as did Martin's sentiments.

"Really..." said Martin - holding onto the hitch in his voice; "You shouldn't have."

"Why?" E.J. asked and Martin knew the question covered every possible question.

Why shouldn't I have bought you that?

Why did you break up with me?

Why won't you tell me why?

What are you afraid of?

Did you meet someone else?

Why won't you return my calls?

"Do you still love me?" E.J. asked.

The question hit Martin hard and tears immediately blinded him.

Shame, guilt, more shame, even more guilt.

"Tell me," E.J. said.

E.J. stepped forward and slid his hand over Martin's cheek, then used his thumb to wipe away Martin's tears. His hand slid around the back of Martin's neck and he pulled the boy closer and into a strong embrace. In each other's arms, Martin's chest heaved with pain and silent sobbing.

He still couldn't tell E.J., could he?

How could he?

E.J. whispered; "Just... tell me why? Let me make it better. Was it something I did? Something I didn't do? Something..."

"It's my fault," Martin interrupted as he pulled away, his own voice quiet and as still as the night around them. "It's all my fault, not yours. Nothing to do with you. Nothing you did. Nothing, fucking nothing!" Martin tried to shout, angry with himself, but the volume never raised above a sotto voice.

"Martin, I think you want to tell me... so tell me," E.J. said; "If you don't get this off your chest, you'll never be able to breathe."

"Trust me, E.J. you don't want to know," Martin replied.

"Trust you? How can I trust you if you won't tell me anything?" E.J. responded.

"If I could tell you, I wouldn't be asking you to trust me."

"But there must be a reason," E.J. said desperately, his voice getting thicker; "Please! I have to know!"

Martin shook his head.

"Present fears are not less than horrible imaginings," Martin murmured.

E.J. understood: the truth was worse than anything he could imagine. He couldn't imagine how. E.J. felt defeated again; he wasn't going to get an answer. Martin's coming here had told E.J. one thing: they were still in love, so why was it over?

"What happened to you?" E.J. asked; "You didn't used to be like this. You used to be Martin. My Martin," said E.J.

A thought came to Martin unbidden, a paraphrase from Peter Pan, which was apt given the catalyst for Martin's coming to see E.J. this night: perhaps there was no such person as Martin, and then he would have cried had E.J. not been crying.

"This is me," Martin said instead; "I think you should always be yourself, because if you're not yourself... then who are you?"

"I don't know," E.J. replied after a long pause and then paused again before adding; "I don't know who you are."

"I would have done anything not to hurt you..." Martin said with all his heart. "I'm sorry."

"Come back to me," E.J. said as he wiped the tears off his cheeks; "When you grow, Peter Pan, when you decide to be a man and talk about this like an adult... You come back to me."

If they had both hoped for closure from their meeting, both were equally disappointed; and thus it will go on, so long as young men are gay and innocent and heartless...

Tom spotted Ephraim waiting for him and took a moment to observe. Ephraim looked rather handsome in his black tie and tailored black suit, contrasted by a brilliant white shirt. Ephraim was also impressed when he spotted Tom.

"Where did you find a bowtie to go with that shirt?" asked Ephraim, emphasising the word "that."

"You don't like it?" Tom pouted.

"I didn't say that. I think it's marvellous," replied Ephraim, giving a little kiss to Tom's nose.

Tom wrinkled his nose then said: "Y'know, there's something we've never said to each other..."

The 'L' word was still on Tom's mind from his earlier conversation with Daniel.

"Size doesn't matter," Ephraim joked.

Tom blushed; "Is that a height joke?"

"You know I adore my wee ginger man," Ephraim replied.

"I know," Tom replied.

The restaurant was filled with couples, substantially heterosexual but the lads did spot a lesbian couple by the window and two older men holding hands at a table in the middle of the restaurant. Tom and Ephraim also held hands as they were led to their table. Tom could not help but notice one hostile and disapproving look in their direction; it was from a man in his twenties, whose girlfriend noticed the glare and stopped holding his hand in response.

Someone wasn't getting any tonight.

Tom was still thinking about the disapproving man a while later; "Ephraim, there's something I've never told you."

Ephraim raised an eyebrow; "Oh god, you're straight, aren't you?"

"No," Tom laughed.

"Phew. What's the news then?" Ephraim asked.

"Nearly two and a half years ago..." Tom started to say and realised it was a hard thing to tell someone.

Tom had only told his closest friends about it around Halloween time last year; it was an important thing that had defined his life in many ways. Telling Ephraim now was about opening up, being honest and coming out - in a manner of speaking.

Ephraim had sat forward when Tom paused, sensing it was a not a fun story and that his partner was deadly serious. He had seen scars, very faint ones, on Tom's back but Tom had never what to talk about it; he was about to talk about it now.

"I was attacked. I got hurt... really bad," Tom said.

Ephraim reached forward and took Tom's hand in his own again, disapproving man be damned.

"I was beaten up, violated, stabbed... frightened too," Tom added because his fear had been as hard to deal with as recovering from a coma. "I'm telling you now because I trust you and because you've seen the scars on my back... You've been so good not to ask again."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready," Ephraim replied.

Tom smiled gratefully at his compassion and for showing a mature understanding that was beyond his years.

"I was just watching a guy over there glaring when we held hands," Tom said by way of explanation for why he had told all now.

Ephraim turned, instinctively caught the offending mans eye, his girlfriend looked embarrassed again as she saw Ephraim looking. The man's face worked hard to conceal his disgust at the gay couple so Ephraim smiled, raised his hand and gave his fist a shake in the universal gesture meaning `wanker.'

His girlfriend spayed red wine all over him as she sputtered out a laugh at his boyfriend's expense.

Tom was smiling sheepishly when Ephraim turned back; "I also mentioned it because... something happened recently."

"What happened?" Ephraim asked.

"When the guys who attacked me went to prison they were charged with attempted murder so I'll not to fear them for a long time. Turns out there is one who I'll never need to fear... he was killed by another prisoner in jail last week," Tom explained.

"Wow," Ephraim said; "Will we get desert?"

Ephraim's flippancy was a commentary on the insignificance of the assholes who had hurt Tom, not of Tom's feelings about what had happened to him. It broke a tension that had crossed the table during what was meant to be a romantic meal.

"Are you still afraid of men like them... like him?" Ephraim nodded his head in the direction of the disapproving man in the restaurant.

"Not really. Not afraid, I mostly think they're pathetic. But it's hard... it seems like you've never faced much prejudice for being gay. It's not so easy for some people," Tom suggested.

"Which is why I try to set a good example," Ephraim said and absolutely meant it; "Being gay is normal. Being gay isn't something to be afraid of or afraid about, it not something special, it doesn't make me unique, it doesn't make me alone or an outsider. Some people will disapprove... so what? Some people will make fun of you or try to tear you down... so what? The only person being gay matters to is yourself. If you like yourself, if you're ok with it then that's all that matters. Which is why you should be ok with it and people who disapprove can go fuck themselves."

"It's a wonderful little world where you live," Tom said facetiously.

Tom agreed with the sentiment but it still wasn't always that easy. Tom thought Ephraim hadn't got the point until he said one last thing on the matter.

"But if you are afraid. If you are made a victim. It's ok to run away. You can't always fight crappy people. And when you can't beat them, desert them."

"Mmm. Desert," said Tom. "Happy Valentine's day," he added as they waited for the bill.

Ephraim smiled happily; "So, your place or mine?"

Tom had a glint in his eye and was tempted to have sex with Ephraim right there in the restaurant but a bed would be more comfortable.

"Your place, I don't have a lecture first thing," Tom replied; the only reminded of the night that it was a school night and Ephraim would need to be up early in the morning.

They were walking for home when they started holding hands.

"I know you love me," Ephraim said.

"Of course I love you," Tom replied.

"I love you too."

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Continued thanks go out to fans who email thier thoughts on the story. It's fantastic to hear from everyone and anyone and I'll reply to all so if you enjoyed drop 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/