(1. James Hargreaves Williamson. 2. Adelphi Hotel - well, kind of.)
Billy bought a razor; a packet of them actually, disposable safety razors and a can of shaving foam. For some time now he’d been plucking out the odd stray hair sprouting from his face and, lately, scraping them off with an old lady-razor of his mum’s. But now his top-lip, his sideburns and odd patches around his chin had begun growing hairs in earnest, it was time to start shaving. Billy was becoming a man.
Justin had recently applied his patented hair-removal cream to permanently remove all traces of hair from Billy’s legs, thighs and up around his arse-crack. He’d also used it to shape Billy’s dark-red pubes into a neat little triangle and to keep his dick and balls completely hairless.
He’d wanted to use it on his face too, to remove any trace of whiskers or moustache, as he had already done to his own, but Billy refused. He quite fancied the idea of growing a beard one day.
A beard was, in Billy’s view, the mark of a man. Or, the potential to grow one was anyway and he didn’t want to surrender that. This stuff of Justin’s was permanent, there was no going back after it had been used. Justin said that he could always glue a false beard on, but that wasn’t the same.
So now, freshly out of the shower, he stood before the mirror in the small en-suite bathroom and studied the instructions on the can of foam. He was barefoot and naked, apart from the thick, white, towel around his waist. His flawless skin glowed pinkly from the warmth of the shower.
In the mirror, he saw Justin come back in from his solitary morning run. He grinned at Billy, and then untied and kicked his shoes off and quickly stripped off all of his clothes. He came, naked, into the small bathroom.
Billy assumed that he was going to have a shower, but he stopped behind him, pressed his naked chest up against Billy’s bare back and he began nuzzling his neck.
“Good morning Superboy. How’s your day been so far?”
“Great! Couldn’t be better. The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the most beautiful boy in the world is standing, naked in our bathroom.”
As he said the words, his hands slid around Billy’s belly, released the towel and let it fall in a pool at his feet.
“Oh, Billy. My beautiful, beautiful, Sunny-Boy. Everyday I love you more.”
Justin’s arms crossed over on Billy’s chest, holding their bodies tightly together, and his open palms caressed the rock-hard little nipples.
“Mmmm. I love you too,” Billy sighed as he leaned back against him. But, then he flinched as he felt the hard, upright, dick pressed against his butt-cheeks.
The hands uncrossed as they slid down to hold Billy’s pelvis on either side of his soft dick. Justin’s cock nestled in the crevice of the butt-crack and began sliding up and down as he started humping him from behind.
“Oh no you don’t! Damm Justin! Cut it out, Man. Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
He tried to wriggle away but Justin held him, as tightly as a vice, and he kept on humping - vigorously now.
“Justin, stop it already! Bloody hell, get out of it!” He angrily wrenched himself away and he whirled around.
“You’re as randy as a fucking old billy-goat! There’s no time for that now. Get out of here, Justin. Go on, fuck off and leave me alone!”
He did feel a momentary regret at the crestfallen look on Justin’s face, but he was busy. So he shoved him out of the bathroom and slammed the door.
“Piss off, Superboy!”
Ten minutes later, shaving completed with just one small cut, Billy came out and looked around the bedroom. Justin had gone. While he was getting dressed, he noted that Justin’s running clothes had gone from the floor. He opened the laundry basket, to drop the towel in, and the running gear wasn’t in there either.
“He must’ve put them back on and gone back to the Square.” He shrugged. “I’ll go find him if he’s not back for breakfast.”
Down in the kitchen, Connors was sitting at the table with her ever-present coffee. Billy helped himself to coffee and porridge and sat down opposite her.
“Morning, Connors.”
“Good morning to you too, Sunshine. Where’s your other half then?”
“Justin? I think he’s gone out for a run.”
“Late today isn’t he? He’s usually back by now.”
“Yeah. He did come back before, but I think he’s gone again.”
“Ah well. Nice day for it I suppose.”
Finished eating, he checked back in their room, then walked around to the Square to see if Justin was there. He wasn’t. Lucas, Daniel and Tony paused in their running around the track.
“Hey Guys. Have you seen Justin?”
“Lost Superboy have you?” Lucas grinned. “They’ll take him off you if you can’t take better care of him than that.”
“Fucking will not! But, yeah, I think I might have lost him – temporarily. I think I upset him.”
“He was here”, Daniel said. “Just left a few minutes ago. He was running like the clappers and not talking to anyone, that must be why.”
“Damm. He is upset. Why does he have to make such a production out of everything? I’d better find him. Which way did he go?”
Lucas said, “He shot off up Brigham Street. He’ll be going to the cemetery if you’ve upset him. He likes to tell his troubles to Jeremy and Carl.”
“Bugger it! I’ll go and get the car then. I’m not walking all the way out there. See you, Guys.”
“See you, Billy. Go find Superboy. You’re not the only one who needs him around.”
A little worried now, (‘Thanks Lucas’), Billy went back to the Adelphi for the car and he drove out to the cemetery. The place was deserted as he drove in and over to the section where Jeremy and Carl’s graves were. There was no sign of Justin.
He was turning around to leave when he spotted a splash of colour under the over-grown hedgerow. Bright, electric blue – the colour of Justin’s running gear. He drove over closer, and then got out and walked across.
Justin was sitting there underneath the trees. He sat on the ground with his arms around his drawn-up knees. His head was down and his face hidden in the curtain of his long hair.
“Justin? Justin are you all right?” Billy dropped to his knees in front of him. There was no answer.
Louder now, Billy said, “Justin, what’s the matter? Look at me will you!”
He raised his head and looked at him. Billy thought he’d never seen a more miserable face. “Justin?”
He put his hands on his shoulders and, worriedly, looked into his eyes. “Oh, Sweetcheeks. What’s wrong? Is it me? Is it because I told you to fuck off out of the bathroom?”
“I’m sorry, Billy. I’m so sorry. Will you be moving back to your mother’s now?”
“Moving back to Mum’s? What would I do that for?”
“You’re not? But. . .I stuffed up, Billy. I’m sorry. I try, I try so hard, but I’m so stupid.’
“Shit Superboy, if you’re stupid then the rest of us are really in trouble! You’re not stupid, Justin, and you haven’t stuffed anything up.”
“But I raped you. I love you and I raped you. I’m not just stupid, I’m a fucking monster! I’m really, really sorry, Billy.”
Billy shuffled forward on his knees and held him while Justin sobbed over his shoulder. When he quietened down, Billy pushed back and looked into his eyes.
“Now you listen to me, Justin Reynolds. You’re not a monster, you’re a kid – a teenager, and horny with it. What happened back there was not rape. That’s just silly. You wanted sex, I didn’t – not at that moment. You tried to push it, I said no and you stopped. No way is that rape.
You haven’t stuffed anything up. You made a mistake, a little mistake, and then you were sorry so that’s the end of it – it’s finished. I made a mistake too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did, and I’m sorry. Okay?
I love you, Justin Jonathan Reynolds, and if you don’t know that by now then maybe you are a bit stupid. I love you and I only want to be with you, all the way and always. Now wipe your nose and kiss me and then we’ll go home and have all the sex you want.”
He did wipe his nose and kiss him, and then Justin beamed. “Thank you, Sunny. You’re great! You’re fantastic and you’ll never know just how much I love you. And, you so dammed sexy it’s hard to control myself. But I will, I won’t do anything like that again.”
“It’s not a big deal. Don’t control yourself too much, I love it when you want me – just pick your time, okay? Let’s go home.”
There was something different in their love-making that day. Billy was on top as they slid and thrust and groaned together, but that was not it – they always took turns at being ‘top’. Now, he really did feel that he was the top partner and that Justin needed him.
Afterwards, as he held the sleeping Justin, Billy lay there thinking. Who was he really, this, amazing, beautiful, loving boy in his arms?
He was the grandson of Bob and Kathleen Reynolds, the identical, (but very different), twin-brother of Jonathan, and he was the one – the one person that Billy knew he would love for the rest of his life, no matter what.
Justin could run like the wind and sing like an angel. He had a memory like an elephant and he was a walking, talking calculator when it came to maths. He could fight like a fury – bullies, rugby teams, packs of dogs, nothing and nobody could match Justin in a scrap. But, he was so gentle he could pick up an ant in his fingers and not damage it.
He was fiercely loyal to anyone he loved and he loved almost everyone he met. He loved openly, totally and unreservedly, and everyone he knew loved him back. The Carvers, the cops, grumpy old George Green out at the cemetery, the dragon-lady of the Adelphi Hotel, school staff, hospital staff, the Mayor and the people of Westpoint – everybody loved Superboy. Even his grandmother, the fearsome Ma carver, was in love with him. But, who was he really?
Everyone, even the TV News people, called him Superboy. Billy called him that himself, but was he? He couldn’t fly or leap tall buildings. He couldn’t play cricket, or football, or tennis, or any games involving a ball. Couldn’t play any games at all really. He couldn’t swim, or cook, or drive a car. He was hopeless with a computer – he barely knew how to turn one on. But, admittedly with his brother’s help, he had cured an incurable disease and discovered the R&R stuff and all the rest of it.
He was shy, modest and unassuming, and he was an ex-porn star and prostitute. And yet, he was a real innocent, he never wanted to believe bad of anybody, even when they were spitting in his face – he just wanted to love them.
He was stubborn. He was so stubborn that bullets couldn’t stop him, or policemen, or coal-trucks. Not even Kathleen Reynolds could stop him when he was on a mission, and yet, he was so soft that he cried at soppy movies.
He never claimed to be anything special, he always said that he was, “just me”. He was Superboy, a hero and an innocent. He was complex, but he was simple.
That was who he was! It struck him like a bolt from the blue. He was simply Justin – what you saw was who he was, there were no hidden agendas, he was just Justin.
‘That’s who you are – you’re Justin and you’re mine because I love you.”
Justin stirred and woke. He didn’t lift his head, just lay and snuggled closer, clinging on tight. Billy kissed the top of his head. “Justin?”
“Mmm?”
“I know who you are.”
Now he did lift his head to look at him.
“Who I am?”
“Yes. You’re not Superboy. You’re not a hero, or a genius – you’re just you. You are Justin and I love you.”
He put his head down on Billy’s chest, and he didn’t say a word. Billy felt a tear drop onto his bare skin.
“Justin? Are you all right?”
He looked up again and grinned widely. “Oh yes! Thank you, Billy. At last – you’re the only one who knows me. Thank you, Sunny, I love you and I need you.”
“I know you do. I love you and I need you too – my Gestalt.”
“Yes! My Gestalt!”
Justin had recently applied his patented hair-removal cream to permanently remove all traces of hair from Billy’s legs, thighs and up around his arse-crack. He’d also used it to shape Billy’s dark-red pubes into a neat little triangle and to keep his dick and balls completely hairless.
He’d wanted to use it on his face too, to remove any trace of whiskers or moustache, as he had already done to his own, but Billy refused. He quite fancied the idea of growing a beard one day.
A beard was, in Billy’s view, the mark of a man. Or, the potential to grow one was anyway and he didn’t want to surrender that. This stuff of Justin’s was permanent, there was no going back after it had been used. Justin said that he could always glue a false beard on, but that wasn’t the same.
So now, freshly out of the shower, he stood before the mirror in the small en-suite bathroom and studied the instructions on the can of foam. He was barefoot and naked, apart from the thick, white, towel around his waist. His flawless skin glowed pinkly from the warmth of the shower.
In the mirror, he saw Justin come back in from his solitary morning run. He grinned at Billy, and then untied and kicked his shoes off and quickly stripped off all of his clothes. He came, naked, into the small bathroom.
Billy assumed that he was going to have a shower, but he stopped behind him, pressed his naked chest up against Billy’s bare back and he began nuzzling his neck.
“Good morning Superboy. How’s your day been so far?”
“Great! Couldn’t be better. The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the most beautiful boy in the world is standing, naked in our bathroom.”
As he said the words, his hands slid around Billy’s belly, released the towel and let it fall in a pool at his feet.
“Oh, Billy. My beautiful, beautiful, Sunny-Boy. Everyday I love you more.”
Justin’s arms crossed over on Billy’s chest, holding their bodies tightly together, and his open palms caressed the rock-hard little nipples.
“Mmmm. I love you too,” Billy sighed as he leaned back against him. But, then he flinched as he felt the hard, upright, dick pressed against his butt-cheeks.
The hands uncrossed as they slid down to hold Billy’s pelvis on either side of his soft dick. Justin’s cock nestled in the crevice of the butt-crack and began sliding up and down as he started humping him from behind.
“Oh no you don’t! Damm Justin! Cut it out, Man. Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
He tried to wriggle away but Justin held him, as tightly as a vice, and he kept on humping - vigorously now.
“Justin, stop it already! Bloody hell, get out of it!” He angrily wrenched himself away and he whirled around.
“You’re as randy as a fucking old billy-goat! There’s no time for that now. Get out of here, Justin. Go on, fuck off and leave me alone!”
He did feel a momentary regret at the crestfallen look on Justin’s face, but he was busy. So he shoved him out of the bathroom and slammed the door.
“Piss off, Superboy!”
Ten minutes later, shaving completed with just one small cut, Billy came out and looked around the bedroom. Justin had gone. While he was getting dressed, he noted that Justin’s running clothes had gone from the floor. He opened the laundry basket, to drop the towel in, and the running gear wasn’t in there either.
“He must’ve put them back on and gone back to the Square.” He shrugged. “I’ll go find him if he’s not back for breakfast.”
Down in the kitchen, Connors was sitting at the table with her ever-present coffee. Billy helped himself to coffee and porridge and sat down opposite her.
“Morning, Connors.”
“Good morning to you too, Sunshine. Where’s your other half then?”
“Justin? I think he’s gone out for a run.”
“Late today isn’t he? He’s usually back by now.”
“Yeah. He did come back before, but I think he’s gone again.”
“Ah well. Nice day for it I suppose.”
Finished eating, he checked back in their room, then walked around to the Square to see if Justin was there. He wasn’t. Lucas, Daniel and Tony paused in their running around the track.
“Hey Guys. Have you seen Justin?”
“Lost Superboy have you?” Lucas grinned. “They’ll take him off you if you can’t take better care of him than that.”
“Fucking will not! But, yeah, I think I might have lost him – temporarily. I think I upset him.”
“He was here”, Daniel said. “Just left a few minutes ago. He was running like the clappers and not talking to anyone, that must be why.”
“Damm. He is upset. Why does he have to make such a production out of everything? I’d better find him. Which way did he go?”
Lucas said, “He shot off up Brigham Street. He’ll be going to the cemetery if you’ve upset him. He likes to tell his troubles to Jeremy and Carl.”
“Bugger it! I’ll go and get the car then. I’m not walking all the way out there. See you, Guys.”
“See you, Billy. Go find Superboy. You’re not the only one who needs him around.”
A little worried now, (‘Thanks Lucas’), Billy went back to the Adelphi for the car and he drove out to the cemetery. The place was deserted as he drove in and over to the section where Jeremy and Carl’s graves were. There was no sign of Justin.
He was turning around to leave when he spotted a splash of colour under the over-grown hedgerow. Bright, electric blue – the colour of Justin’s running gear. He drove over closer, and then got out and walked across.
Justin was sitting there underneath the trees. He sat on the ground with his arms around his drawn-up knees. His head was down and his face hidden in the curtain of his long hair.
“Justin? Justin are you all right?” Billy dropped to his knees in front of him. There was no answer.
Louder now, Billy said, “Justin, what’s the matter? Look at me will you!”
He raised his head and looked at him. Billy thought he’d never seen a more miserable face. “Justin?”
He put his hands on his shoulders and, worriedly, looked into his eyes. “Oh, Sweetcheeks. What’s wrong? Is it me? Is it because I told you to fuck off out of the bathroom?”
“I’m sorry, Billy. I’m so sorry. Will you be moving back to your mother’s now?”
“Moving back to Mum’s? What would I do that for?”
“You’re not? But. . .I stuffed up, Billy. I’m sorry. I try, I try so hard, but I’m so stupid.’
“Shit Superboy, if you’re stupid then the rest of us are really in trouble! You’re not stupid, Justin, and you haven’t stuffed anything up.”
“But I raped you. I love you and I raped you. I’m not just stupid, I’m a fucking monster! I’m really, really sorry, Billy.”
Billy shuffled forward on his knees and held him while Justin sobbed over his shoulder. When he quietened down, Billy pushed back and looked into his eyes.
“Now you listen to me, Justin Reynolds. You’re not a monster, you’re a kid – a teenager, and horny with it. What happened back there was not rape. That’s just silly. You wanted sex, I didn’t – not at that moment. You tried to push it, I said no and you stopped. No way is that rape.
You haven’t stuffed anything up. You made a mistake, a little mistake, and then you were sorry so that’s the end of it – it’s finished. I made a mistake too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did, and I’m sorry. Okay?
I love you, Justin Jonathan Reynolds, and if you don’t know that by now then maybe you are a bit stupid. I love you and I only want to be with you, all the way and always. Now wipe your nose and kiss me and then we’ll go home and have all the sex you want.”
He did wipe his nose and kiss him, and then Justin beamed. “Thank you, Sunny. You’re great! You’re fantastic and you’ll never know just how much I love you. And, you so dammed sexy it’s hard to control myself. But I will, I won’t do anything like that again.”
“It’s not a big deal. Don’t control yourself too much, I love it when you want me – just pick your time, okay? Let’s go home.”
There was something different in their love-making that day. Billy was on top as they slid and thrust and groaned together, but that was not it – they always took turns at being ‘top’. Now, he really did feel that he was the top partner and that Justin needed him.
Afterwards, as he held the sleeping Justin, Billy lay there thinking. Who was he really, this, amazing, beautiful, loving boy in his arms?
He was the grandson of Bob and Kathleen Reynolds, the identical, (but very different), twin-brother of Jonathan, and he was the one – the one person that Billy knew he would love for the rest of his life, no matter what.
Justin could run like the wind and sing like an angel. He had a memory like an elephant and he was a walking, talking calculator when it came to maths. He could fight like a fury – bullies, rugby teams, packs of dogs, nothing and nobody could match Justin in a scrap. But, he was so gentle he could pick up an ant in his fingers and not damage it.
He was fiercely loyal to anyone he loved and he loved almost everyone he met. He loved openly, totally and unreservedly, and everyone he knew loved him back. The Carvers, the cops, grumpy old George Green out at the cemetery, the dragon-lady of the Adelphi Hotel, school staff, hospital staff, the Mayor and the people of Westpoint – everybody loved Superboy. Even his grandmother, the fearsome Ma carver, was in love with him. But, who was he really?
Everyone, even the TV News people, called him Superboy. Billy called him that himself, but was he? He couldn’t fly or leap tall buildings. He couldn’t play cricket, or football, or tennis, or any games involving a ball. Couldn’t play any games at all really. He couldn’t swim, or cook, or drive a car. He was hopeless with a computer – he barely knew how to turn one on. But, admittedly with his brother’s help, he had cured an incurable disease and discovered the R&R stuff and all the rest of it.
He was shy, modest and unassuming, and he was an ex-porn star and prostitute. And yet, he was a real innocent, he never wanted to believe bad of anybody, even when they were spitting in his face – he just wanted to love them.
He was stubborn. He was so stubborn that bullets couldn’t stop him, or policemen, or coal-trucks. Not even Kathleen Reynolds could stop him when he was on a mission, and yet, he was so soft that he cried at soppy movies.
He never claimed to be anything special, he always said that he was, “just me”. He was Superboy, a hero and an innocent. He was complex, but he was simple.
That was who he was! It struck him like a bolt from the blue. He was simply Justin – what you saw was who he was, there were no hidden agendas, he was just Justin.
‘That’s who you are – you’re Justin and you’re mine because I love you.”
Justin stirred and woke. He didn’t lift his head, just lay and snuggled closer, clinging on tight. Billy kissed the top of his head. “Justin?”
“Mmm?”
“I know who you are.”
Now he did lift his head to look at him.
“Who I am?”
“Yes. You’re not Superboy. You’re not a hero, or a genius – you’re just you. You are Justin and I love you.”
He put his head down on Billy’s chest, and he didn’t say a word. Billy felt a tear drop onto his bare skin.
“Justin? Are you all right?”
He looked up again and grinned widely. “Oh yes! Thank you, Billy. At last – you’re the only one who knows me. Thank you, Sunny, I love you and I need you.”
“I know you do. I love you and I need you too – my Gestalt.”
“Yes! My Gestalt!”
5 comments:
Good to see Justin being Justin and not Superboy, did wonder if you would explore Justin's feelings about being more than just a boy. As usual looking forward to the next chapter.
My My David. How could anyone not love Justin?
I always read you're chapters before going to bed. Such wonderful writing. Thanks David.
Mr Bumble
Glad to see the latest chapter - and back to Justin and Billy! I was getting withdrawal symptoms...
Alastair
Justin is just like all of us - not defined by what we do or how we look, what family we are born into - I am simply me. What a love story!
Thanks Guys, very cool.
Danny - right on!
cheers
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