My Story, 3

We splashed and played around in the water. There wasn’t really room to swim properly. The pool was long enough but really narrow. An Olympic athlete could jump right across it, maybe.

I quickly lost the embarrassing stiffness and certain parts of me got shrivelled and even smaller than usual in the cool water. That didn’t last for long though. When Joel dived under the water, swum around behind me, prised my legs apart and, slowly, swum through between them, I was as hard as ever by the time he surfaced and grinned at me.

“Someone’s pleased to see me.” He moved around behind me again, put his arms around me and pulled me back against his naked body!

One hand stayed on my chest, the other slid down and his fingers wrapped around my rigid dick.

“Oh, yes! You’re old enough to party all right.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so easy. I’d only just met this guy, I knew next-to nothing about him, and, already, he was jerking me off. But that was not what I was thinking right then. Who could think?

My gran says that a man hasn’t got enough blood for his brain and his dick to work at the same time. (Yeah, she’s all class, my gran).

Whatever. It was such an amazing feeling; I’d never known anything like it. Total bliss! I sure wasn’t cold anymore; I was hot and getting hotter. Joel’s temperature was rising as well. Much more of this and we’d be boiling the water around us.

(Think he was hard as well? Well, of course he bloody was!)

I’m not sure how he did it, he was bigger than me, but, somehow, his huge, hard, dick was in the crack of my bum and he was humping me from behind as he jerked me off.

Whoah! It was so hot. I was just at the age where I was starting to cum and, boy! did I come that time – bigtime! I jerked and jumped around as my whole body spasmed. (Is that a word? You get the picture anyhow). I was so spent when I finished, I felt like a limp rag. I would’ve collapsed in a boneless mess on the bottom of the river, if he hadn’t been holding me up and still humping me from behind.

My brain cleared as I slowly got my breath back and my dick deflated. Maybe it was true then, about the blood and the brain? I was starting to feel uncomfortable, but Joel wasn’t stopping. Both arms were back around my chest and his dick was pulsing as he came.

I couldn’t see it, of course – I haven’t got eyes in the back of my head, but I had no doubt at all that he was cumming. His breath came in ragged gasps as he spasmed and came in the crack of my bum.

Jimmy was sitting up and watching us intently. He was probably wondering what the hell we were doing. Jimmy had never known anything like that. Mum took him to the vet for ‘the unkindest cut of all’ when he was 6 months old. Poor old fellow was knackerless. I was sure glad that she hadn’t done that to me!

Joel spun me around and he kissed me – a real, passionate, kiss with tongues and everything. I wasn’t complaining, it was great!

And, that was the end of the good times. We staggered up out of the water and I reached for my clothes, but he stopped me by grabbing on to my arm.

“What’re you doing? Get off, Joel. I want to put my pants on.”

“You’re not, not yet. We haven’t finished yet.”

“We’ve finished for now.”

“Oh no we haven’t. I want to fuck you.”

“You just did, didn’t you?”

“That wasn’t fucking. I want to really fuck you now; I want to get it in you properly.”

“Well, you’re not! You’re not shoving that monster in me with no lubricant or anything. You’d rip me in half!”

“No, I won’t. We’ll get it in. I’ll work it in.”

“You’re not! Forget it. You got your rocks off, that’s all you’re getting.”

“I’m going to fuck you. What are you going to do about it, Little Girly-Boy? I could just take it and you couldn’t stop me.”

“You try it and Jimmy will have your nuts off! We don’t just keep him around for decoration you know.”

He let go of my arm and looked at Jimmy. One hand went down to, protectively, cover his dick. “What’s he going to do anyway? He’s tied up, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s tied up, but he could break that leash, no trouble at all, if he really wanted to.”

“He could? Screw you anyway. I don’t need this. I’m outta here.”

He put his shorts on, picked up his bike and started back up the bank. Halfway up, he stopped and looked back. I had my boxers on and was pulling my shirt on.

“Why don’t you go back to your mother’s titties? You’re nothing but a fucking cock-tease, Girly-Boy. And you shouldn’t be allowed to get around with a dangerous dog.”

“He’s as dangerous as he needs to be. Fuck off, Stafford.”

He fucked off.

Jimmy settled down and I carried on putting my clothes on. What was that line in Dickens’ tale of Two Cities? ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’ Screw him too! I wasn’t that easy and I wasn’t going to be ripped open like that. What would Mum and Gran say?

“Come on, Jimmy. Let’s go home.”

That was my introduction to life in Tiroroa. What? You thought it was going to be all fun and games? I wish. Life’s not like that – mine’s not anyway.

We climbed back up to the bridge, went back to the main road and went straight home past the pub. Who cared if anyone saw me? I was going home anyway.

I was totally dry by the time we got there, apart from the hair, and I carried on with the unpacking, like the good little boy I was. I was not going to tell them where I’d been and what I’d been doing. Not likely! They’d totally freak. (But I suspected that they would do the same thing, given half a chance). And – eww!

My Story, 2

I’m back!! Surprised? You should be; I’m known for starting things and not finishing them. You should see my room, it’s full of half-finished stuff – bits and pieces of models and things everywhere.

My mum says that I’m “Just bloody messy and lazy”. But that’s not the reason for it; I don’t think so anyway. I just get side-tracked and starting something new is always more exciting than carrying on with yesterday’s stuff. One day, I’ll get back to the other stuff – maybe.

Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, here. We’d just arrived in Tiroroa and moved into the house across from the school, my mum, my gran and me. As soon as we’d got all our stuff inside and halfway sorted, the “responsible adults” in my life left me to it and went down the road to check-out the local pub.

I was meant to carry on unpacking until they brought fish and chips back for our dinner. Think that was going to happen? Of course it wasn’t. My bed was set up, the TV was plugged in, there was nothing else that couldn’t wait and there was a whole new town out there to explore. So, I put a leash on Jimmy and we went out for a walk.

(Jimmy is a dog, by the way. He’s a pure-bred Alsatian and he comes from a long line of good breeding stock, which is more than could be said about me).

To the right, the highway went out of town. There were only two houses after ours and then there was nothing but farms and things. So, there was only one way to go – left and down through the ‘town’. Damm small town; I could see the other end of it from where I stood.

We didn’t have to find the school, it was right there over the road. The school was the biggest place in the town. Apparently the primary school was on the same site and they shared a lot of the facilities. It was a big school, much bigger than the one I used to go to in the city. Turns out, they served a big area, it was the only school for miles around and buses went in all directions.

A lot of the kids came to school in their own cars, either driving themselves or with older siblings, cousins or neighbours. That would explain the big parking area in front of our house. In some ways, many ways, country kids grow up faster than city kids – and if you’re thinking ‘sex’, stop it right now! (But you’d be right).

Anyway, enough about the school. I’d be spending far too much of my life there anyway.

On our side of the road there was nothing but houses, a big long line of them with farm paddocks behind them. Over the other side, after the school, there was the Playcentre, for the preschoolers, then a paddock with a couple of horses in it, and then more houses.

A street branched off the main road, to the right, the pub was over the other side of it. There was a block of shops after the pub. But we couldn’t go that way; someone might be looking out of the windows and I’d get sent straight back home. So we went around the corner and up the side street.

More houses, and then, over the road, there was a park – a huge park. It looked to be far too big for a town of this size, but, I supposed, that space wasn’t an issue around here – there was way too much of it. We crossed over the road to check-out the park.

It was mostly just a wide-open grassed area, with a few trees dotted around and a hedge of trees all around the edges. There were a few people around, but not many. There was a kids’ playground to the right, with swings and climbing frames and stuff, and there was a small, concrete, skate-board ramp to the left.

That looked interesting, so we went over that way. There was no-one using the ramps, but I didn’t have my board with me, so I just sat down on the park bench to have a look at it. Jimmy flopped on the ground at my feet. I tell you – that dog’s even more unfit than I am!

It was nice sitting there in the warm sunshine with just enough breeze to keep it from getting too hot. I didn’t like the look of all that snow on the mountains in the distance though. It was warm enough then, but the nights were going to be bloody cold around here.

A kid, a teenager, came across the park, riding on a too-small-for-him BMX bike. He rode up and stopped on top of one of the skate-board ramps and sat there looking at me. Then he came over for a closer look and stopped in front of us.

For about 2 minutes, we sat quietly looking at each other. I liked what I was looking at. He was a bit older than me, (he was 16 as it turned out). He had short, blond hair, big blue eyes, and a nice, open, sun-kissed face – small nose, thick red lips and a strong, square jaw-line. His body was very well-developed, solid and strong-looking. That was not hard to see, he was wearing nothing but brief, faded, blue-denim shorts – no shirt, no shoes and not even a cycle helmet, (which you are supposed to wear).

Jimmy didn’t move, he didn’t even lift his head, but his alert eyes were missing nothing as he checked the kid out as well. The kid sat staring at me like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. That was nothing new, it was probably the hair, it usually was.

I was pretty ordinary looking really, maybe a bit skinny, but I did have long hair – really long. Did I mention that? You think you’ve seen long hair on a boy? Well, you haven’t if you haven’t seen mine. It was just straight and an ordinary brown colour, but it was really long, and thick. I’d never had a hair-cut in my life, apart from the fringe. When it was loose, which was not often, I could sit on my hair. That’s long! Mum’s and gran’s hair was exactly the same. Maybe mum’s was a bit longer and gran’s was starting to go gray. We were a long-haired family.

I hated it when I was little. It took a lot of looking after and it took forever to get it dry after washing it, also it got in the way when it was loose. I usually wore it tied back, loosely, just above my shoulders. By 13, I’d changed my mind and I was proud of my hair. It made me different.

The kid glanced down at Jimmy. “Does that dog bite?”

“Only if I want him to.”

“Oh, okay. Is the hair for real?”

“Yeah, it’s real. Is yours?”

“Of course it bloody is! Who are you and what are you doing in our park?”

“It’s your park, is it? I’m Virgil and we just moved here. What are you doing here?”

“Living, I suppose,” he shrugged. “If you can call it living. What does your father do?”

“I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea. He doesn’t live with us. My mum’s the new woodwork teacher at the Highschool.”

“She is? That’s cool. I heard that we were getting a woman teacher. Is she any good?”

“Good enough. She knows her stuff.”

“I hope you’re right. Woodwork is my best subject. I’m Joel Stafford, I’m 16 and I live over there, with my dad. He’s a teacher at the school too, so we’re both teachers’ brats. How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen? That much? I thought you’d be younger.”

“You thought wrong then.”

“Okay, you’re 13. Do you party, or are you still too young?”

“I’m old enough.”

“I’ll bet you are. Cocky little bugger, aren’t you? I don’t think you’re a bit scared of me.”

“Should I be scared of you?”

“Not while you’ve got a bloody great dog at your feet anyway. I was going down to the river, for a swim. Do you want to come with me?”

“You’re asking? Yeah, okay. I’d like that. But, where is the river? I don’t want to walk past the pub.”

“Why not?”

“Mum and Gran are in there. If they see me, they’ll send me home, I’m meant to be unpacking.”

“Okay. We don’t want that then. We can go out the other way, around the back of the shops. Come over this way.”

We walked out the short track at the end of the park, around the back of the shops, passed the garage, (Wordsworth Motors Ltd.), passed the old hall, along the road to the corner and down the side-road to the river.

As we walked, we talked and found out a bit about each other. Mostly I just admired the view – of him that is, the rural scenery didn’t interest me at all, but he was very nice to look at. That smooth, hairless and golden young body was solid and compact. He had a raw magnetism and an air of muscular power about him. This was a magnificent young male just coming into his sexual prime.

Was I interested? You bet your life I was! Yeah, I‘m gay – you’ve probably figured that out by now.

We crossed the long bridge over the river, and passed a couple of girls, going the other way, on the bridge. They’d been swimming and they were going home. That was good. Joel exchanged a few words with them, but they didn’t stop. That was good too. Neither of the girls spoke to me; probably thought I was a little kid or something.

Was I worried? You guessed it.

We clambered down the bank at the far end and down to the swimming-hole in the small, busy, river, underneath the bridge. Joel manhandled his bike and I struggled to manage the excited Jimmy.

There was no-one else around at all. (‘Good!’) There were plenty of signs that it was a popular hang-out place though. The underside of the concrete bridge was covered in tag-marks and graffiti, some of which would make your grannie blush. I decided that I’d have to come back sometime to have a good look at it all, there was no time for that right then, I had better things to look at.

I let Jimmy have a drink of the clean, clear, water, and then tied him up, under a tree where he could lie in the shade. Bad move. When I turned around, Joel was already in the water and his denim shorts were lying on the stones. Bugger! He was probably naked and I’d missed it. Yeah, he was naked all right – I could see the white globes of his bum in the water.

“So?” he grinned up at me. “Are you coming in?”

“I dunno. It’d be a bit cold, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not cold. You’ve just got to get in quick, and then it’s okay.”

“If you say so. But, I’ve got no swimming-trunks with me.”

He swam over to the side near me, stood up in the knee-deep water, and gave me a full-frontal look at his glorious naked body, before dropping backwards into the water.

(‘Oh, wow!’)

“I haven’t got any togs either. Come on, Kid. Come skinny-dipping with me – it’s the only way to swim. There’s no-one around, no need to be shy.”

A truck rumbled past on the road above us. I looked up at the bridge and Joel knew exactly what I was thinking.

“They can’t see us. As long as you stay close to the bridge, no-one can see you.”

“Yeah, but you can see me.”

“So?” He stood up again. “Have you got something that I haven’t?”

“No, definitely not. But I haven’t got as much of it as you have.”

“I didn’t think you would if you’re just 13. Besides, I’m bigger than you are.”

“You certainly are! Oh, okay, whatever – I’m coming in.”

“Great!”

‘He wants me!’

I sat down and took off my sneakers and socks, and then my t-shirt. I stood up, dropped my trousers and boxers together and stepped out of them. By the time I’d exposed my skinny white body, my face was bright-red. (I couldn’t see it, of course, but I could feel it). My dick was as stiff as a bone.

Joel stood chest-deep in the water and smiled as he watched me. I kept my back to him and cupped my hands over the naughty bits when I turned to face him. I waded out a few steps and then flung my arms out as I plunged into the cool water.

He was still standing there, grinning like a Cheshire cat, when I surfaced, spluttering. He splashed a bit of water at me.

“See? It’s not so bad. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Kid.”

“It will grow.” I splashed some back at him.

It seemed that my life had taken a definite turn for the better. We’d only been there a couple of hours, and there I was, naked, with a good-looking, studly boy and he was naked too! Jealous? Yeah, I would be too. Sometimes, it’s good to be me.

My Story

(Right then, here we go).

Hi People, It’s Me!! (*Waits for applause* – not a sausage – dammit!)

The Old Boy’s not here, he’s tired. So, I’m going to tell you my story.

There are a million stories in the world; hundreds of millions of them. There’s a story for every person, and more than that even. This one is mine.

This is my story, but I’ll share it with you. You can read it if you want to – or not. I don’t really care; I’m telling it anyway. Suppose I was to drop dead tomorrow – unlikely, I know, but it could happen.

It happened to Ray Tampion. He dropped dead. Sixteen years old, he was. He had a blood-clot. No-one knew about it, but it was there, moving around inside him. One day it moved into his brain and he dropped dead – just like that. Scary.

I don’t think that’s going to happen to me. I hope not! But, you never know, it could happen – just like that. If it did, I’d be gone and there’d be much weeping and wailing. Well, I hope there would. (There bloody should be!) But, even so, who could honestly say that they knew me – really knew me that is? Nobody, that’s who.

Nobody really could say that they knew me unless they read my story. So – this is it. You can read it if you want to, and then you’ll know me.

Who am I? Virgil Cain is my name. Stoopid name isn’t it? But that’s what my mother called me. What was she thinking? I dunno, maybe she just hated me as soon as she saw me. There’s love at first sight; maybe there’s hate at first sight too. I mean, when you think about it, it’s really not the best way to meet somebody, is it? All that pain and mess and stuff and out pops a brand-new person, screaming his head off!

Anyway, she had her revenge – she named me Virgil. Of course, no-one ever calls me that, except for my mum and my gran. Everyone else calls me ‘Virgin’. Hah! It’s not true anyway. I’m not a virgin, not any more, so don’t call me that. My name is Virgil – dammit!

My second name is almost as bad. Almost but not quite. No name is as bad as Virgil. Anyway, my other name is Chevy – Virgil Chevy Cain. Know where that came from? You won’t if I don’t tell you.

She called me Chevy because that is where I was conceived, on the back seat of a chevy – a 1964 Ford Chevrolet. All class eh? Not! (I think that my mother was a bit of a slapper really). Well, she was only 14 at the time.

I’m older than that already. I’m 15 now and I don’t think I’m old enough to be a parent – not that that’s likely to happen. I’m gay, aren’t I? You didn’t know that? Well now you do – told you that you’d know me if you read my story. See? Already you know something that most people don’t.

I was born in a small town, a very small town. I’m not telling you where it was, it doesn’t matter anyway. Small towns are all much the same wherever you go – boring! Anyway, we don’t live there now. We moved, to another small town. Dammit!

Now we live in Tiroroa. My mum’s a teacher at the school there. She teaches woodwork and metalwork at the Tiroroa High School. That’s pretty cool really – not the normal sort of job for someone’s mother, but that’s my mum. No-one ever said that she was normal.

She’s got a boyfriend too. He’s 18 and, eww! It’s all legal and everything, but a couple of years ago he was a student in one of her classes. I don’t like to think about it. So I won’t. It’s not her story anyway, it’s mine.

I don’t have a boyfriend, not any more. I used to, but not now – he dumped me. The Swine! I heard a song once, it said, “I was making love but you were making believe.” Something like that. That was us, apparently. Just my luck; I fell in love with someone who didn’t love me back.

He’s got a girlfriend now. I hope she makes him happy. She’d better, because if she doesn’t, he’ll dump her and I know what that’s like – it’s not nice. It’s a shame really because I did love him. I still do, but I’m not telling him that. Once was enough.

It was easier when we lived in Christchurch, in the good old days. I was just a kid then. I went to Shirley Intermediate School and I was quite happy there, thank you very much. But, that was too good to last. My mum graduated from Teachers’ Training College, applied for and landed the job here in Tiroroa, and so we had to move. I had to leave my friends and the only life I’d known and come to live here. Dammit!

We didn’t quite leave everything behind – my gran came with us and she lives here too, sometimes. My gran lives in a house-truck and, when the mood takes her, she goes off, tripping around the country. She’s often gone for months at a time and we never know where she’s going to turn up. Crazy old lady.

If you think my mum’s different, you should see my gran.

Gran’s a great gardener. She’s got a garden in her house-truck, hydroponically. She grows tomatoes, lettuces, puha, (that’s a sort of water-cress), and marijuana – heaps of marijuana. One day, she’s going to get busted – again.

She doesn’t sell it or anything, just grows it for her own use. Mum has some, sometimes, but I don’t touch the stuff. I don’t want to turn out to be a crazy old druggie like my gran.

I suppose that she’s not that old really. She’s 44. I know that because I looked at her driver’s licence. That’s right – I’m 15, my mum is 29 and my gran is 44. I think that I come from a long line of slappers.

They are all the family that I’ve got. I suppose that I have got a father somewhere, a grandfather too, probably. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met them. There’s just us – me, my mum and, sometimes, my gran.

I’d just turned 13 when they wrecked my life and we had to move here, to Tiroroa. I was not impressed, but I had no choice. At least there’d be no more bus rides to school. Our new house was a school-house and it was right across the road from the main entrance. I wouldn’t have to get out of bed at 6.30am anymore. Now I could lie in bed until 5 minutes before school-time and still get there on time.

What else was good about being here? Bloody nothing – that’s what! I knew she hated me.

What d’you think of my story so far? That’s all you’re getting, for now. I’m getting tired too, and there’s school tomorrow. It’s not easy cutting school when your mum’s a teacher there. I’ll write some more tomorrow, if I’ve got nothing better to do. ‘Bye.

Time Fillers

Hey Guys,

Gotta go away for a family drama. We'll have a new story when i return. Meanwhile - enjoy.

cheers

Westpoint tales - The Last Time, 9 (the last time)

Billy and Justin drove out, through the pouring rain, to the Carver’s Ranch. It was a cold, wet, gray and miserable day. Christian and Roman met them at the door.

“Superboy, Billy, at last! They’re in the big lounge, sitting by the fire.”

“We took their clothes off them,’ Christian grinned. “They’re in the wash and the boys are wrapped up in blankets; so they’re not going anywhere.”

“Thanks Guys. We appreciate that.”

“We had to stop them from running away again. They claim that they’re going to Christchurch.”

“Yeah,” Roman said. “It’s taken them 2 days to come 25km; it’d take them forever to get there.”

“They’re going nowhere but home. Thanks for looking after them.”

“Not a problem. There was a time when we had nowhere to go and the Family looked after us.”

“Well of course! I’ll just go in and talk to them.”

Justin went, by himself, into the Big Lounge. Marty and Andy, wrapped in old woollen blankets, sat together on a small couch directly in front of the open fire. He went and stood, with his back to the fire, in front of them – Two skinny, delicate-looking, handsome young boys, identical in appearance and with their long blond hair falling around their faces.

They said nothing, avoided eye-contact with him and both shifted closer together.

“It’s about time someone put some walls up in here,” Justin said. “This room is way too big and it’s impossible to get it warm. I think it’s going to be a late summer this year.”

“What are you doing here, Justin?”

“If you think you’re going to take us back, you can think again. We’re not going.”

“I’m not taking you back. No-one wants you anyway. They’re all glad to be rid of you.”

“What??”

“They are not!”

“Of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be? And, you’re not staying with us – one teenager is more than enough to live with.”

“But.”

“But, you said that you loved us.”

“I used to,” Justin shrugged. “Well, I suppose that we should be getting back to town. Bloody awful weather out there.

Good luck walking to Christchurch. It’s going to be cold up in the mountains, but you can do it – probably. Your great, great-something, grandfather came to Westpoint by walking all the way from Christchurch. He did it, so can you.

Of course, his twin brother died on the way. He’s in an unmarked grave on the side of the road, up there somewhere. No-one knows where. But then, he was just a boy, you’re older than he was, so you should be all right – if the weather’s kind to you.

I wouldn’t try hitching a ride. That girl was raped and murdered a couple of weeks ago; they haven’t caught whoever did it, yet. Good luck, Boys. It was nice knowing you.”

He went back to the kitchen where Billy, Christian and Roman stood looking aghast at him.

Marty and Andy looked at each other and Marty started crying.

“What are you bawling for? He doesn’t mean it. Of course he wants us to go back.”

“He’s not exactly begging us, is he? He’s right, it is going to be bloody cold up in the mountains, and you’re already sick. I don’t want you to die, Andy!”

“Oh Marty, I love you too. I don’t want you to die either!”

The blankets fell away as they embraced, clinging together and crying together.

“Come on.” Marty was the first to pull himself together. “Let’s go and ask Justin if he’ll take us home.”

“Yeah. We have to, but we are not sleeping in separate rooms.”

“No way! Not ever.”

“Never!”

Clutching their blankets around their naked bodies, they shuffled out to the kitchen. Billy was getting a hot drink, Christian and Roman sat at the table and Justin stood in front of the fire. He looked over when they came in. They stopped and looked at him. He smiled and they both flew at him, dropping their blankets on the floor as they wrapped their arms around their loving uncle. They all cried together.

“Justin. Oh, Justin, please don’t leave us.”

“Take us home, Justin. Please take us home.”

“Oh, my Sweet Boys! Of course we’ll take you home. I love you, Boys. I really do.”

“We love you. I love you the most!”

“You do not, I do.”

“Shut up, Dork. I love him the most.”

“Andy! Marty!” Justin laughed through his tears. “Stop fighting, Boys. Stop it or I’ll slap your bare bums.”

“Umm, yeah.” Red-faced, Marty picked up the blankets, handed one to his brother and wrapped up in the other. “Will our clothes be long, Christian? We need them back. We’re going home.”

“They’ll just be a few minutes. They’re on the drying-cycle now.”

“Thanks. Thanks everyone, we just want to go home now and face the music.”

“We do, but we’re not going to be separated. I love Marty and he loves me and we are going to be together.”

“We are! Always.”

Billy came over and held out his arms. He hugged one boy and then the other. “It’s going to be all right, Boys. Everyone just wants you at home. All of your parents love you just as much as we do – more, probably. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Marty and Andy thanked Christian and Roman and hugged them both as they were leaving.

Roman said, “You’re welcome, Kids, but it’s good to see you going home – you’re doing the right thing.”

“You are,” Christian agreed. “Any time you want to run away, you run out here to us. Now, go away. Daniel will be here, any minute now, with a bus-load of visitors for us. What would people think – walking in here to see naked teenagers all over the place?”

“Christian!”

“Yeah, shut it, Christian.”

They got into the car, Billy driving, Justin next to him and Marty and Andy, cuddled together, in the back seat. Back in town, at the Beachhouse, the boys were really nervous, but the uncles gave them no choice. Justin led the way in and Billy brought up the rear.

Kathleen stood, arms akimbo, just inside the door. “So! You are a pair of naughty little boys! Your parents have been worried sick – everyone has. I’m very disappointed in you. Next time you run away, for goodness sake, come to the Adelphi. You know there’ll always be a bed there for you.”

“Thanks, Gran. Sorry, Gran. Nice to see you too.”

“Yeah. We love you, Gran. Sorry.”

Lana came running down the stairs and hugged and kissed them both. “Welcome home, Boys. About time too! Your mum and dad are in the kitchen.

Jonathan stood up when they walked in. “There you are! Do you know how much time everyone has taken off work because of you two?”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Sorry.”

“So you should be. Don’t you ever do that again. Now come here and give me a hug – I love you Boys.”

“Oh, Dad!”

They both hugged him and then turned to face their mother. She stood and frowned at them.

“You two are grounded. Both of you. You can both go up to your room and don’t come down until tomorrow.”

“Up to our room?”

“Our room?”

“Yes,” she smiled at last. “Your room. Your beds are where they’ve always been. I’m not saying that I like it, but you can shut the door and we don’t have to know.

Welcome home, my Lovely Boys.”

The End. End. End. END! (I think.)

Westpoint Tales - The Last Time, 8

“I, umm,” Jonathan shrugged. “I think we could have handled that better.”

Claudette and Lana nodded at each other.

“Yeah, they are,” Lana said.

“I think you’re right. Well, it’s going to stop. We’re not having that.”

“What’s going to stop? You’re talking in riddles, Girls. What are they?”

“Get with it, Jonathan,” Lana said. “Your sons are gay and they’re having sex together.”

“Oh, I see. But is it really any of our business?”

“Damm right it’s our business! They’re our sons and we’re not having it. It’s not right.”

“Plenty of people would say that our lifestyle’s not right either, but it’s right for us.”

“Our lifestyle has got nothing to do with it. Lana, you and I are adults. They are not, they’re just boys and they’re brothers.”

“So? They’re not little kids anymore. They’re as old as we were when we all got together. I think that we should leave them alone. If it’s not right, then it won’t last. If it’s right for them, then it’s right.”

“It is not right, and that’s all there is to it. Where do you think you’re going, Jonathan? We need you to move the bedrooms around.”

“I’ll be back soon. I’ve got some business to take care of, uptown.”

Jonathan rushed out and Claudette turned to Lana. “He’s going to see Justin. I wish that, for once in his life, he could face something himself without calling on his brother for help.”

“Superboy does the same thing. They’re two halves of one whole and they need each other to function at their best.”

“They do. They’ve always been like that.”

“They have. Maybe Marty and Andy are going to be the same.”

“That I could handle. It’s the sex business I don’t like. It’s not right, brothers doing that together. It will end in tears.”

Jonathan went straight up the street to the Adelphi. Justin wasn’t there. Nobody knew where he was. Billy came in with the Sunday Papers.

“There you are. Billy, where’s Justin?”

“Good morning to you too. He’s not here, Jonathan, he’s gone for a run.”

“He spends half his bloody life running! At the Square? I’ll go around there.”

“You can go there if you want to, but he’s not there.”

“Where then? Come on, Billy, don’t play games; I have to talk to my brother.”

“Okay, okay! He went out to the cemetery, I think. He’ll probably come back by way of the North Beach, he usually does.”

“Dammit! I’ll have to go back and get the car then. I’m not up to running as far as he does.”

“Who is? Here,” Billy held out his keys. “Take my car. It’ll be quicker.”

“I will. Thanks, Billy, you’re a mate.”

He left, by the back-door, and Billy settled down with the papers and a coffee. He looked up and grimaced when Jonathan pulled out with a squeal of tyres.

“My poor wee car! Granddad, your grandsons are terrible drivers.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Bob replied. “You’re not too bad. Jonathan’s okay, just too fast. Anyway, have you seen Jeremy behind the wheel?”

“Yeah, and I wish I hadn’t. He’s going to be the worst of the lot of them.”

At the cemetery, there was a group of people around a grave over to one side. Jonathan drove over and got out. Justin was there, along with Claire, Lucas, Jay, Shelley and Dee.

“Hey Guys. What’s this? A class reunion or something?”

“Well, almost,” Lucas replied. “Today would’ve been Carl’s birthday.”

“Really? I didn’t know. Happy birthday, Carl, kind of.”

“Kind of, yeah. Were you wanting something, Jonathan,” Justin said.

“Yes, I want you. Can you come with me? We have to talk.”

“Sure I can. See you later, Guys.”

“Bye, Sweetcheeks. Thanks for coming out. Bye Jonathan.”

“Of course I came out! I don’t forget my friends. Later Guys.”

“What’s up, Brother?” He asked when they were in the car.

“Wait a minute.” Jonathan started the engine. “We’ll go down to the tiphead.”

“Oh? It’s important then?”

“It is – very important. Sorry to drag you away from your friends.”

“Not a problem. You come first, Jonathan. You should know that by now.”

“Yeah, I do, I guess. Thanks Brother. I still love you too.”

“So you should.”

He turned at the end of the tiphead, and parked looking back towards the town.

“We’ve been here before.”

“We have. Many times. What’s the problem, Jonathan.”

“Justin, my sons are queer. No, sorry, I mean they’re gay.”

“Queer’s okay. All of your sons? Surely not.”

“No, not all of them, I think. Marty and Andy are gay.”

“Yeah, I know. They told me.”

“You knew that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I couldn’t. It’s not my story and they didn’t say I could tell anyone.”

“So you didn’t. You still should have told me – I am their father.”

“Jonathan, I couldn’t tell you. How long do you think they’d trust me if I went around blabbing their secrets?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Did you also know that they’re having sex together?”

“No, I didn’t know that. Are you sure?”

“Fairly sure. Claudette and Lana are sure, they’re certain of it.”

“How do they know? Did the boys tell them?”

“No, they didn’t. It was woman’s intuition, or whatever you call it. Anyway, they’re sure of it.”

“And, how do they feel about it?”

“Lana didn’t say. But Claude did – she’s not happy about it and she’s going to split them up.”

“No. Bad move, Claude. How do you feel about it, Jonathan?”

“I, umm. . . well, I don’t know. I mean, it’s not the end of the world, is it? Why is it a bad move to split them up?”

“Because it is. They’re twins and they’re 15. What would’ve happened if Grandmother and Granddad tried to split us up when we were that age and sleeping together?”

“We weren’t having sex.”

“Of course we weren’t. Even so, what would have happened?”

“We probably would have told them to get knotted. I remember once, Granddad said that he forbade you to go near the Carvers. You told him that you couldn’t care less, and you went anyway.”

“I did, and just as well too! How is anyone going to keep them apart anyway? Lock them in separate rooms until they’re 40?”

“Claude’s talking about separate bedrooms. But – that’s not going to work, is it?”

“It’s not. But it might separate them from you guys, forever. Do you want that?”

“Fuck no! They’re our boys. What are we going to do, Justin? I don’t want to lose my boys.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a good father.”

“You’re a bloody good uncle too. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but you are.”

“I try to be. I love those boys just as much as you do.”

“I know you do. So, what are we going to do?”

“The usual, I guess – talk, talk and talk some more until everybody’s happy. Where are the boys now?”

“I don’t know. They blew up and stormed out and I don’t know where they’ve gone. I thought they might have come to you.”

“They didn’t. Not yet anyway. Let’s go back and see Claude and Lana.”

“Yeah. That’s a good place to start. Thanks Justin.”

“Welcome, Brother.”

There was huge activity going on at the Beachhouse. To add to the confusion, Tine and Junior had decided to swap rooms as well. “Just for a change.”

Claudette didn’t want to talk about it, there’d been too much talking already, but they made her. Finally, reluctantly, she agreed that Marty and Andy could stay as they were – for now. She didn’t want to lose her sons either.

Marty and Andy didn’t come home all day. Nobody knew where they were. They hadn’t been to the Adelphi. By dinner-time, the family were getting worried. It was totally unlike them to miss a meal, especially the Sunday Roast.

“You don’t think they’ve done something stupid, do you, Superboy?”

“No, Claude. I’m sure they wouldn’t. They’re not dumb. They’re both very bright boys. Wherever they are, they’re together. They’ll be fine.”

“They’ll be fine when I get hold of them – Little Shits! Justine, when you’ve finished there, you and Junior can go and look for them again.”

“Don’t call me that, my name is Tine. We’ve been looking all day, Claude. We don’t know where they are.”

“Well, go and look again. They must be somewhere.”

At 10 o’clock, Justin and Billy went home. They were going to bed and they weren’t going to worry, (they said). Jeremy stayed the night, sleeping on a camp-bed in Junior’s room. If there was going to be any drama, he wanted to be there to see it.

Marty and Andy didn’t come home that night. The little ones were all sent to school the next day, there was no need for them to be at home. Tine, Junior and Jeremy took the day off, as did the adults, and they all spent the day searching everywhere they could think of.

The Police were notified and Paul Jamieson and Constable Lucas Sheridan spent the entire day searching fruitlessly.

West FM broadcast constant appeals for information, but they were no help either.

Another long night dragged through to the morning.

Tuesday morning, the family were all having breakfast and sitting around in the Beachhouse kitchen. It was another school day and life had to go on. Claudette looked around when Justin came in.

“Oh. It’s you. There’s still no sign of them, Justin. We haven’t heard a word.”

“It’s okay, Claude. Roman just rang. They've got extras for breakfast, out at the Ranch, this morning – a couple of very hungry boys.”

“They’re at the Ranch? Well, Good! How the hell did they get away out there?”

“They walked, apparently. Christian found them asleep in the hay-loft, in the barn. They’re feeding them now. Billy and I are going out to get them.”

“Thanks, Superboy. Jonathan, you go with them.”

“No. I think it’s best if you don’t come, Jonathan. We’ll bring them home.”

“Why can’t I come? I am their father.”

“You are and that’s why. You’re probably the enemy right now.”

“And you’re not?”

“Of course not. I’m not their parent, just their friend. They know that I love them.”

“Well, so do I.”

“Sure you do, but you’re still the enemy. We’ll go and get them and, please, be nice when they come home. Don’t make it worse.”

“Justin, for goodness sake!” Claudette burst out. “Go and get my boys!”

Westpoint Tales - The Last Time, 7

(Justine, aka. Tine, aka, Reta. Hey Reta!)

Days, and then weeks went past. They kept themselves to themselves and thought that nobody knew what they were doing. They were wrong. Their friends and family were not stupid and more than a few people had their suspicions about what was going on.

Christmas was coming and that was the busiest time of the year for the choir. The Westpoint Community Singers were very much involved in carol services and other concerts and end-of-year functions.

A hectic schedule was planned and rehearsals and practices were in full swing. So, of course, Andy caught a cold, lost his voice and couldn’t sing.

Somehow, Marty missed getting infected and his voice was fine. He was going to stay home anyway, to keep his brother company, but Andy insisted that he didn’t.

“You can’t, Marty. You have to go, they’re depending on you. No-one’s going to miss my croaking, but you’re the choir’s best singer and they need you.”

“No, they don’t. I’m not going anywhere if you’re not.”

“You bloody have to! Right then – I’ll go anyway. I’ll stand up the back and just mime the words.”

“You bloody will not! If you’re standing there, spreading your germs around, everyone’s going to catch colds. Okay then, I’ll go, but I won’t like it. You can stay home, look after yourself and get rid of your dammed cold.”

“Good! I guess that we’d better not do anything for a few days.”

“Not do anything? We are too! We’ll just pull a condom over your head.”

“Shut the fuck up. We are not – get real.”

“What are we going to do then?”

“Nothing! Or, maybe we could. There could be, like, just no kissing.”

“No kissing?”

“Not on the mouth anyway.”

“Yeah. That could work. We’ll live dangerously.”

So, Marty went off to practice and Andy stayed at home by the fire, wrapped in a blanket and with lemon-drink and a large box of tissues. Justine came in and sat down, carefully well away from him, on the other side of the fire.”

“I can sneeze right across the room you know,” Andy grinned.

“Well, just don’t. Keep your disgusting germs to yourself. Andy-Pandy, what’s going on with you guys?”

“What do you mean, what’s going on?”

“You’ve changed, haven’t you? Something’s up. You haven’t had a serious fight for weeks now and you’re both forever shut away up there in your room.”

“Nothing’s up. We’re just getting on all right, that’s all.”

“No, that’s not all. You’re both different. You’re actually acting like you like each other.”

“We do like each other. Geez, Justine. Why’s it such a big deal? Everyone’s always telling us that we’ve got to get on together, well, now we are.”

“Yes, now you are. You never have before, not for more than 5 minutes. And don’t call me Justine. My name is ‘Tine’ now.”

“Yeah, it is since you’ve decided to change it. See? People can change, and you’ve been changing everything – your hair-colour, the make-up, everything. If you get any more piercings, you’ll liable to spring a leak.”

“I will not!” she snorted. “I just felt like some changes. I’m not ‘Daddy’s sweet little girl’ anymore. I’m growing up.”

“Maybe we’re just growing up too.”

“Maybe. I think that there’s more to it than that though. I’m watching you guys. And don’t you cut Junior out either. He’s been feeling a bit left out.”

“We haven’t cut Junior out. He’s never home lately anyway. He’s always out with Jeremy and his crowd.”

“Could be that he feels more welcome there. He’s still your brother and don’t you forget it.”

“Okay, okay! Damm. Are you sure that Lana’s your mother? You’re getting as bossy as Mum.”

“Shut the fuck up, Andy-Pandy.”




“We’re going to swap some bedrooms around tomorrow.”

Claudette sat, in front of the mirror, brushing her long, brown hair. She always, religiously, brushed her hair 100 times every night. It probably didn’t make any difference, but her grandmother had raised her to believe that brushing made for a healthy head of hair.

“Oh?” Jonathan rolled over in bed to look at her. “Again? What’s wrong with the way they are now?”

“Because it’s time we made some changes. Craig can go up to the box room on the top floor, the one with no windows. That’ll suit him, he hates any light in the room at night. Carmel can come down to Craig’s room. I don’t like her being up on the top-floor, she’s too little.”

“Okay, that makes sense, but why can’t Craig and Carmel just swap rooms?”

“No, Bobby is going into Carmel’s room.”

“He is? But why? There’s nothing wrong with the room he’s in now.”

“There’s not, but he’s just little. He doesn’t need all that space – it’s just room for him to spread his mess out.”

“What are you going to do with Bobby’s room?”

“Either Marty or Andy can move in there. I don’t care which one; they can decide.”

“But why? We’ve always kept them together so that they’ll learn to get along. It seems to be working at last. Why split them up now?”

“Because it’s time that they were separated. Andy’s gay you know.”

“Do you think so? What makes you think that?”

“He’s gay, I know it. A mother knows these things. Andy’s gay and I’m pretty sure that Marty is too.”

“Both of them? I didn’t see that coming.”

“You just don’t look, Jonathan.”

“You’re probably right, you usually are. Oh well, if they are, they are. I still don’t see why they can’t stay together. They can support each other.”

“No. It’s time they were separated. They’re 15; think back to what you and Superboy were doing when you were 15.”

“What we were doing!! But, they’re brothers. Justin and I slept together when we were 15. Didn’t do us any harm.”

“Of course it didn’t. You weren’t gay and Superboy had Billy. Marty and Andy don’t have anyone else, I think it’s time that they did.”

“Maybe they don’t want anyone else yet.”

“Maybe they don’t. Think about it, Jonathan.”

“What? Do you think that they are . . Surely not!”

“I’m not saying that they are; I’m just saying maybe. Lana thinks so too. I’ve discussed it with her.”

“Of course you have. You two always talk about everything before you bring me into the picture.”

“Of course. We’re the mothers; you’re just a mere male.”

“Okay, Claude, whatever you think is best. Now come over here and I’ll show you what a mere male can do.”



The riot started at breakfast the next morning. Claudette announced the plan for the day and no-one agreed with her. Craig and Bobby were happy with the rooms they had now, thank you very much! They were not moving.

Oh, but they were!

Carmel liked being up on the top floor, with ‘the big kids’, and she wanted to stay there.

No, she was not. She was coming down to the room next to her mother.

Marty and Andy both refused point blank. They were not moving.

Oh, but they were.

Oh, but they bloody were not! They were staying where they were.

They were not! Their mother had decided and one of them was moving into Bobby’s room. If they couldn’t agree on which one, she’d flip a coin. They needn’t think that appealing to their father was going to change her mind. It would not.

“Lana!”

“Don’t try to bring me into this, Marty. Your mum’s decided and you’re moving. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“It’s not fair! Why can’t we stay where we are? We’ve always shared a room and I like being with Andy.”

Yeah, thanks. I like being with you too. If one of us is moving, then we’ll both move.”

“You will not! Don’t be ridiculous. It’s time that you had separate rooms.”

“We don’t bloody want separate bloody rooms. We’re not moving!”

“You are moving, or, one of you is. You’re not both staying where you are.”

“Mum! You can’t do this. We need to be together.”

“You need to be apart. It’s not like you’re never going to see each other, it’s just separate bed-rooms. One of you is moving.”

“All right then!” Andy yelled. “Have it your way. I’m moving and so is Marty. We’ll go to the Adelphi. Granddad will give us a room there.”

“He will not. This is your home and this is where you’re staying – in separate rooms.”

“You can go screw yourself. We’re not moving!”

“Don’t you talk to your mother like that. I’ll kick your arse, Boy!” Jonathan growled.

“You’ll try, Old Man,” Marty replied, icily. “Come on Andy. We’re out of here.”

They twins stormed out and left the building. The adults sat and looked at each other.

Westpoint Tales - The Last Time, 6

(Tauranga Bay).

The last time? No. Over the next week or so, there were lots more times, but everytime it was agreed that it would be the last time.

They were not going to make a habit of having sex together. They couldn’t! But, it was just so easy and it was so good. This time, every time, would be the last time – definitely.

Andy had a problem – a big, fat problem. Well, it wasn’t fat really; it was just about perfect actually, but it was a big problem. His problem’s name was Marty.

Martin Andrew Reynolds, 14, almost 15, years old. Blond-haired, blue eyed, tall, tanned, glowingly healthy and altogether gorgeous. And dammed sexy too! Marty was bright and intelligent and talented in so many ways, but not at all vain – he was a nice person. Too nice!

He drove him ‘nucking futs’, but, even when he hated him, he loved him. He always had.

But now? Well, he was in love with him, and that could not be. That was a big, fat problem.

Marty was his brother, his identical twin brother. Andy’s being gay wouldn’t be a problem, that was no big deal. But being in love with his own, twin, brother would be – their parents would totally freak!

He wasn’t sure if even Uncle Justin could cope with that. Justin was gay, he had a twin brother and he loved him dearly, but he wasn’t in love with him. That had never even entered into their relationship. And, Justin’s brother, Andy’s father, Jonathan, was not gay either.

Andy’s brother, Marty was gay – obviously – and he loved him. Andy had a problem.

Marty had a problem. His problem’s name was Andy.

Marty was the first to go on a date, and it was with a girl! That surprised even him, But she asked him if he wanted to go with her to the Seniors’ Highschool Ball. He was very flattered; the Ball was for years 12 and 13 and year 10’s only got to go if they were invited as partners.

Besides which, Crystal Boniface was one hot babe. She was a fellow member of the Westpoint Community Singers, which was a bit nerdy really, but she was still very popular and sought after. Her bubbly personality, her good looks and, especially, her nubile young body were more than enough to make up for being in the choir.

At first, he was shocked when she asked him. Well, he was gay, wasn’t he? But, why not anyway? It could do wonders for his own popularity, and he was pleased to say that he’d go. His mother was delighted, she thought that it was wonderful.

Surely she wasn’t having dreams of grandchildren already? She was only about 30.

Justin just looked at him wonderingly, but he said nothing. Jonathan was delighted as well. He said that he’d drive them anywhere they wanted to go and even offered to get a chauffeur’s cap. Marty said thanks, but no thanks. He wasn’t taking his dad along on his first date.

So, Marty went to the Ball and Andy sat at home, feeling like Cinderfella, but he had no fairy godfather and he didn’t score a handsome prince. Not that night anyway.

Or, maybe he did, kind of. He was still awake when Marty arrived home, looking so good in his old-style formal clothes. He hadn’t been drinking, though most of the kids were. Crystal had gone off with another boy at the after-ball party. He didn’t care. He’d rather be with his brother anyway.

He shed his clothes, climbed into Andy’s bed and, they did it. (For the last time).

Andy’s time came later. Monday lunchtime, he was sitting woefully watching his twin, with a group of boys and girls, laughing and joking as they sat around re-living their experiences of the big night.

Phil Campbell came around the corner with a small group of seniors. Andy admired the sight. Phil was no awkward, gangly, teen, he was a mature young man in all his athletic glory.

If you didn’t know who he was, and if he wasn’t wearing a school uniform, he could easily pass for a young man. He moved with the grace of a lion at the height of his powers. Andy would definitely not throw him out of bed for dropping crumbs.

“Nice!” he sighed

Senior boys had the option of wearing long trousers with their school uniforms, so, of course, most of them did, but not Phil Campbell. Not always, but usually, he stuck with his old shorts. Good move too! He looked great in his tight shorts. It’d be a shame to cover up those legs.

Campbell saw Andy looking at him. He left his friends, came over and sat down next to him.

“Hey, Reynolds. How’s it going?”

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m always good. Which one are you, Andy or Marty?

“I’m Andy. That’s Marty over there.”

“Right. It’s bloody hard to tell you two apart you know. So Marty’s the one who went to the Ball. Why weren’t you there?”

“I wasn’t asked, was I? Year 10’s only get into the Seniors’ Ball by invitation.”

“And nobody asked you? That’s a shame. If I was a girl, I would have asked you.”

“You would? But you’re not a girl, are you? Boys do ask boys, sometimes.”

“Sometimes, yeah. If they don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t know if I’m quite ready for that. Would you have come if I’d asked you?”

“Does a fish shit in the water? Of course I would have!” Andy blurted out, and then he blushed as his brain caught-up to what he was saying.

“Cool. Maybe I will ask you, next time, if I’m still here.”

“Really? I hope you’re still here then.”

“Cool. What are you doing after school today? We’re going for a surf, down at the Bay. Do you want to come?”

“With you? Oh yeah, I’d love to come with you!”

“Maybe we can do that too,” Campbell said with an evil grin. “We’ll pick you up from home, about 4 o’clock. Okay?”

“Yes, great! I’ll be there and waiting.”

“Very cool. Well, gotta go – the guys are waiting. See you then, Andy. Maybe we’ll get a pizza out there too. Okay?”

“Yes, very okay. See you then, Phil. Thanks.”

He ran off to join his mates and Andy sat grinning delightedly. He didn’t just dream that, did he? No, of course not – it happened. Wicked!

“What’re you grinning at, Doofus?” Marty flopped down beside him.

“Marty! I just got asked out.”

“You did? By Phil Campbell? No!”

“Oh but yes! We’re going for a surf and a pizza, down at the Bay, after school today.”

“Today? Good for you, I guess. Make sure that you’ve got condoms, Campbell gets around you know.”

“He does, doesn’t he? And, he asked me out. That is way cool.”

“And why wouldn’t he? I’d ask you out, if you weren’t my brother.”

“You would? Thanks, Marty. I’d say yes too, if I wasn’t your brother. We won’t need condoms. I’m not doing that on a first date.”

“I should hope not. Keep it for the one you love, Andy. You’ll never regret it.”

“So they say. Come on, time to move. School’s calling.”

Walking into class, Andy was still grinning from ear to ear, and they were both quiet and lost in thought. Andy had a date! With Phil Campbell – wow!

Marty was not quite sure what he thought about all of this. He should have been pleased for his brother. He knew that. They were totally agreed that they could not continue with what they’d been doing. Of course they couldn’t! They both needed to find someone to love who was not their own twin brother.

Phil Campbell was hot, he was a total stud and he’d be a great catch for anyone. Andy was really lucky if he was in with a chance there. But still . . . He loved his stupid brother and he didn’t see how anyone could take his place in his life.

If he loved him, then he should only want the best for him – the best of everything. But. What about Marty? He bloody loved him. He couldn’t see himself loving anyone else – ever! Damm. What a mess.

Andy was a mess. He was going out on a date, a real date, with Phil Campbell! That was good, wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was good – really good. He was thrilled to be asked out and really glad that Phil wanted to spend time with him.

He’d be the envy of many of the kids around town, both boys and girls, when they found out. Phil Campbell was quite a catch – good-looking, personable and popular. He was a damm nice guy. And, apart from all that, he was Preston Dallas’ nephew and the ‘heir apparent’ of the wealthy Dallas family, since they’d thrown their son, Roman, out.

It was generally believed that the Dallas were the wealthiest family in Westpoint. Lana said that was a lot of rubbish; between them, the Reynolds had far more than the Dallas did. That couldn’t be true, could it?

The Reynolds did have their business interests and all, but they didn’t live like rich people. Their lives were quite ordinary, kind of. They lived in 2 old hotels, but the Adelphi was getting old and past it and the Beachhouse wasn’t even an operating hotel anymore. It was just a tatty old ex-hotel and a big home for Jonathan’s humungous family.

The Dallas lived in a mansion and they were rich – there was no doubt about that. They lived like rich people. The Reynolds did not.

That wouldn’t be a problem, would it? The Dallas had kicked Roman out because he was gay and he had a boyfriend. Idiots! Roman was a nice guy. So was Christian, his lover.

Phil didn’t live with them. His mother was a common old florist, but she was a Dallas and he spent a lot of time around there, with rich old Uncle Preston. Whatever. He didn’t care. He was Andy Reynolds, and he was as good as anyone. Wasn’t he? Yes, of course he was.

Anyway, even without his connections, Phil was a top guy. He had everything – almost everything. There was just one thing wrong with him really, he wasn’t Marty. Andy couldn’t be, but he was in love with his own brother, Dork that he was. Damm. What a mess.

He hurried home after school, to shower and change and get ready to go out. With his wetsuit and a towel in his bag and his body-board under his arm, he stood out on the sidewalk to wait for Phil. He didn’t know where Marty was, he hadn’t seen him since school got out.

Marty was sitting on the rocks down at the Shingle Beach. He didn’t want to go home and watch his brother getting ready to go out with a boy. Andy was doing the right thing, he knew that. They both needed to get relationships with other people, but – dammit! It just didn’t feel right. He wanted Andy all for himself. But, they couldn’t. Dammit again. Life was just not fair.

Andy was a bit disappointed when Phil’s car pulled up and there were four others in there, 2 boys and 2 girls, but, whatever. At least he got to sit next to the driver, sandwiched between him and John Collins. The other guy and the girls all squashed into the back seat.

It was getting late. Marty was already in bed, with his laptop, when Andy came in, slammed the door and threw himself on to his own bed.

“Fuckit!”

“Oh?” Marty sat up and looked at him. “Was the ‘hot date’ not so hot then?”

“Shut the fuck up, Marty. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not? What’s that bloody Campbell done? If he’s hurt you, he’s dead!”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. Don’t be ridiculous. He was the perfect gentleman, and even if he wasn’t, I’m not scared of him. I could take him down any time I wanted, thanks to Justin and karate lessons.”

“What then? Something’s got you all worked up.”

“If you must know, it’s you and you’re pissing me off!”

“Me? What have I done?”

“Nothing. That was the last time, Marty. The last time I’m ever going out with anyone – ever! I’m not interested.”

“I don’t get this. What’s it got to do with me? And, what went wrong, Andy?”

“Nothing went wrong and nothing went right either. He kissed me and there was just nothing there. Nothing at all, I wasn’t interested. One of the hottest guys in town and he wanted to get it on and I couldn’t do it. There was no spark there at all.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Because it is! I bloody love you, Marty. Just you and only you. You’ve ruined my life.”

“Oh, I see. At last. Well, you’ve ruined my life too.”

“How?”

“Because I love you too. I love you, Andy. I’m hopelessly in love with you and no-one else.”

“Oh, Marty! What are we going to do?”

“You know what we’re going to do. Just lock the door and come here and love me. Forget the world, all that matters is us.”

“Yeah, fuck the world. We’ll make our own world in here.”

“That’s it. Have you got any lube?”

“Lube? What for? Butt-fucking? I thought you were only going to do that with the one you’re going to spend your life with?”

“I am, and that’s why we need it. Right here and right now. You’re the one, Andy.”

“Oh, Marty! You’re the one too – the only one for me. Now and always.”

“Yeah! Whatever anyone thinks doesn’t matter and it never will.”

“For once, you’re right. My brother, my lover.”

“Well, stop mucking around and come here and love me.”

And, he did, and they both knew that it was right. Nothing that was wrong could feel so right. They were in love and that was that. End of argument.