Date: Fri, 28 Jan 2011 14:08:26 +1100
From: Marcus McNally <marcusis32@live.com.au>
Subject: Love On The Rocks 11

Love On The Rocks - 11

This story contains sexual situations between two males. If material of
this nature offends you then you should not read this story.  If you are
under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this
story.  This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to
persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no
duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web
sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.

*************

In the morning, Ty and I only had time for a brief cuddle and a bit of
sexual handiwork before we heard George's prompt knock on the door at 8.30,
followed by his delivery of our breakfast.

We took advantage of our shower time to continue the handiwork, and then
hit the beach for a grueling run before returning to the house.  We dressed
and while I logged on and checked emails, Ty was hard at work with his
manuscript and guitar.

I lay on the balcony and read for a while, until I realised George was
stripping beds and doing loads of washing, which wasn't part of his work
brief.  He wouldn't let me take over, so we did the chore together and I
was thankful it was me who stripped the bed I shared with Ty.  I remade the
beds while George prepared a light lunch.

After we'd eaten, Ty returned to his manuscript, and I prepared for my
drive to the airport to collect Scott.  I called out that I'd see him in
about three hours. On my way out the door, I reminded George that Scott
would be with us for dinner and that I'd pick something up.

It was mostly a cruisy and enjoyable drive in the sunshine, but unexpected
heavy traffic for the final leg of the trip left me worrying I'd be late
meeting Scott's flight.  Fate had me arriving at the gate lounge only
minutes after the plane had touched down.

I stood to one side and watched as priority passengers filed into the
terminal first, and noticed Scott immediately.  He seemed engrossed in a
conversation with a very pretty girl around his own age, and I was able to
have a good look at him unobserved for a minute or so.

If anything, he looked more handsome than ever; his tan had deepened, his
dirty blonde hair was messy and his smile still lit up the room.  He was a
younger version of Ty and I wondered briefly how that thought hadn't
occurred to me the first time I saw him in Coolangatta.

Scott said his goodbyes to his fellow passenger and turned to scan the
lounge.  I waved and he beamed as he strode towards me.

"Hey Mike!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around me and slapping my back.
"It's great to see you!"

"Hey asshole!" I grinned.  "You're looking great."

"Where's Ty?"

"He was working on his music so I thought it was better to keep him
focussed on that," I explained.  "Besides, Ty hanging around an airport can
turn into a circus, as you know."

"Yeah," Scott agreed.  "I can't wait to see him!"

"So, I saw you chatting up a piece of skirt!"

Scott laughed.  "Yeah, she was sitting next to me on the flight and she was
really friendly, if you know what I mean.  She was hoping we could catch up
while I'm here."

"Did you make any plans?"

"Nah, I told her I was catching a connecting flight to Alice Springs!"

"So, no interest?"

"Ah, no," said Scott, a little self-consciously.

We left the discussion there while we collected Scott's luggage from the
carousel and within minutes, we were on our way back to the Sunshine Coast.
We chatted a little about how George came to be staying with us, and I
enthused about the house and the beach.  I was keeping things casual, but
suddenly Scott turned towards me and spoke quietly.

"Ty told you, didn't he?"

I was caught by surprise and paused for a moment before replying.  I
contemplated saying "told me what?", but decided that the truth was the way
to go.

"Yeah, mate.  That bother you?"  I studied his face, but he gave little
away.

"Hey Scott, no secrets, right?  Besides, I thought you and me were mates,
even before Ty, well ... you know ..."

Scott laughed.  "Before Ty poked you with his rhythm section?"

I grinned back.  "Why the fuck are you here if it isn't to talk?  Isn't
that the point?  To talk, I mean. Without having to go off whispering in
dark corners?"

"Yeah, that's right Mike," Scott replied, his smile returning.  "At home, I
just didn't get the chance to talk to Ty privately.  Every time we were
along, Mum appeared asking if we wanted some juice.  Or if we said we were
going for a walk, Dad was half way to the door before we even pulled our
boots on."

 "Yeah, he told me," I laughed.  "Can't blame them though.  They don't see
much of him these days so I guess they just wanted to make the most of any
time they got to spend with him."

"I know it," Scott replied.  "And I couldn't lay it all on Lachie, not with
him flying back to fuck knows what.  Shit, it makes my little problem seem
pathetic."

I ignored that.

 "Well, you've got all this time ahead of you, away from home, to discuss
anything you want to with Ty."

"No, no Mike," he protested.  "I'm cool with talking to you.  Fact is,
there's a couple of things I wanna clear up ... before ...".  He hesitated.
"... before I talk to Ty."

I was surprised but didn't show it.  "Shoot," I said.

"OK, here goes," he said, drawing a breath.  "First thing is a confession.
I know you saw me jacking off in my bedroom that morning."

I paused, and he added, "At Grand Apartments", as if I needed reminding.

"No way!" I shot back, this time registering surprise.  "I went back inside
before you could have seen me."

"Yeah but you were always on the balcony about that time, having your
coffee, so I just made sure you could see me.  I wanted you to see me."

"Why, Scott?"

He shrugged as if he had no answer, but then went on to explain as best he
could.  "I wanted you to make a move on me, I guess.  I had this feeling
you were gay and ... well, I wasn't sure how to ... you know?  Shit, it
sounds so fucking lame, doesn't it?"

 "And there was me, feeling like I was a voyeur ...!"

"What did you think of me when you first met me?" Scott asked, suddenly
earnestly.

I thought for a moment before answering.

"Okay.  You asked.  Honestly?  The first time I saw you was when you were
checking in.  I thought you were the most gorgeous guy I'd ever laid eyes
on, and stuff started happening in my jocks!  I was so distracted by you
that I even tipped coffee in my lap.  All my groceries went flying all over
the floor of the lobby, and George came to help me."

"Yeah, I noticed," he chuckled.  "I remember looking at you and laughing,
and you got embarrassed and disappeared pretty quick."

"Embarrassed doesn't cut it, mate.  I spent the next 24 hours wondering why
I felt so attracted to a kid so much younger than me.  I didn't see you for
a couple of days and thought you must have disappeared.  Then I heard you'd
had that accident and were hobbling around on crutches.  It was the next
day, when you came to the pool, that we met for the first time."

"Yeah, and because my back was so sore, you offered to massage me, and I
couldn't wait.  I really did think that once I was in your apartment and
naked on the massage table, things would just naturally happen.  If
anything was going to happen."

He sighed.  "But nothing did."

Again, I considered my reply.

"Time to fess up," I said.  "I was in a real conflict over that.  I
couldn't believe my luck that I'd gotten the opportunity to give you a
rubdown.  My cock was sending me one very strong message.  But I kept
reminding myself that you were 17, almost half my age.  A kid.  And I don't
regret the fact that my conscience won.  For two reasons, Scott.  Firstly,
you didn't actively give me any signals that you wanted anything to happen
and secondly, I'd have hated myself later."

"Well I'm glad I know that," Scott said.  "I was worried maybe you had some
idea that I was trying to seduce you and that you thought I was pathetic."

"Far from it mate," I reassured him.  "I still thought you were one of the
most handsome guys I'd ever clapped eyes on.  I still do.  But if anything
had happened between us ..."

I stopped myself.  I was about to mention Ty but somehow that didn't feel
right.

 "Yeah," he laughed.  "You and Ty?  Now how would he have reacted if he'd
found out you'd fooled around with his little brother?"

 "Turned out you ended up playing matchmaker," I grinned.  "Your big
brother is my perfect match, mate, and I've never been happier in my life.
I owe that to you."

"It makes me happy too, Mike," he smiled back. "I'm pretty stoked that I
pointed him in your direction.  I figured he'd get some good legal advice
from you, but he got more than even I bargained on!"

Scott laughed, before adding ruefully, "It's good to know someone's getting
regular man-on- man sex, even if it's not me!"

"You're just 18, mate!" I laughed.  "Plenty of time for that."

Satisfied he'd got that much off his chest before we reached the house,
Scott changed the subject and for the remainder of the drive we talked
about other things, including his need to make some sort of decision about
whether to get a job or go to university, to get his parents off his back.

**********

As we neared the town Ty and I had temporarily made home, I asked Scott
what he fancied for dinner. He laughed and said he'd like the same meal I
made the night I gave him the massage in my penthouse – T-bone steak,
jacket potato with sour cream and cheese, and salad.

"You're such an Aussie!" I laughed as we pulled into the town's supermarket
car park.  "You wanna come in with me?"

"Nah," Scott replied.  "I'll just stretch my legs."

Cruising the aisles picking up what I needed, I could see Scott outside,
peering in the window of the surf shop across the road.

As I stood in the fruit and vegetable aisle, gently feeling avocadoes in
the hope of finding a ripe one, I was greeted by a beaming Simon.

"Hey Mike!" he grinned.  "I was wondering when you'd show up again.  You
needing a delivery?"

"Hey Simon," I replied, shaking his hand.  "No, just grabbing a few things
today, but I'll be doing a full shop sometime at the weekend.  Will you be
working?"

"Sure will," he smiled.  "I'll be able to drop everything off for you.  And
Mike, I haven't said anything to anyone about ... you know!"

"Good man!" I smirked.  "I knew you'd keep your word.  I'm just gonna pay
for this lot.  Can you grab me a couple of six packs of Crown Lager and a
bottle of Coldstream Hills white?"

I followed Simon to the liquor section and couldn't help but register that
perfect ass as he bent to pick up the beers.  Ah yes, I thought. If I was
ever going to give Scott a taste of the wild side, there was the perfect
starting point ...

Simon stood with me as I paid for the groceries, and he noticed as Scott
and I waved to each other through the window.

"Who's that?" Simon asked, wide-eyed.

"That's Scott, Tyson's brother," I replied, as we picked everything up and
exited the store.  "He's just finished Year 12 and he's going to be
spending part of his summer break at the house."

"Fuck, he doesn't half look like Tyson, eh?"

"Yeah," I smiled.  "They're very similar, in lots of ways."

Scott was still window shopping across the street as Simon helped me load
the groceries into the car.  I noticed them discretely checking each other
out.

"Thanks Simon," I said, again shaking his hand.  "I'll be in at the weekend
to arrange that delivery."

"OK Mike.  See you then," he said as he strolled back into the store,
watching from behind the supermarket's front window as Scott climbed into
the passenger seat.

As we drove off, Scott asked as casually as he could, "Who was that?"

I smiled to myself.  "That's Simon.  He's holidaying here with his parents
and working at the supermarket because he's bored.  He delivered our
groceries the first day we arrived."

"Does he know that it's Ty who's staying there with you?"

"Yeah, he does, but I swore him to secrecy.  So far, he's kept his word.
He's a good kid."

"How old is he?"

"Oh, about 20 I'd say," I replied.  "I know he's older than 18 because he's
got his driver's license."

"Speaking of driving," Scott said.  "How about you let me drive from here
to the house?"

"You don't have your license yet mate," I reminded him.  "Can't take the
chance."

"I've got my learner's permit though," he offered hopefully.

"Well, we'll pick you up some `L' plates at the weekend and then you'll be
all legal!"

Scott slumped back in the seat.  "Shit," he said.  "Looks like I just have
to wait for everything!"

He was smiling though, and I smiled back.  "Everything in good time, mate!"

**********

As we pulled into the driveway, I briefly saw Ty appear on the front
balcony and then heard him as he bounded down the staircase several steps
at a time, materializing beside the car before I'd even turned the engine
off.

Scott jumped from the car and was immediately engulfed in a bear hug from
Ty.  The two embraced and slapped each other's backs, Ty kissing his
brother's head and ruffling his hair.  It was always a joy to witness the
close bond between the Hill brothers, so natural was their interaction.
The three of them were like pieces of a jigsaw, fitting together and
completing the picture.

Ty smiled at me and mouthed "thanks" as he grabbed Scott's suitcases and
led him upstairs to the main lounge.  I unloaded the groceries and followed
them in time to hear Scott's reaction to his new surroundings.

"Man!  This place is awesome!" he exclaimed, looking around.  "It's huge!"

"Mate, there's a pool room too," his big brother grinned.  "And our own
private beach!"

George suddenly appeared and beamingly welcomed Scott.

"Hey George," Scott began, offering a handshake.  "It's great to see you.
How did your operation go?"

"It was very successful, Mr. Hill," George replied.

I rolled my eyes.  "Now you're in trouble, George!" I laughed.  "Two Mr
Hill's.  You'll confuse us all, so I think it's gonna have to be `Scott'
for pretty boy here!"

"Yes, it could be confusing," George mused.  "I should be fully recovered
by the time this break ends, Scott.  And it's all thanks to Mr Hill and Mr
Stewart."

"George," I cut in.  "Let's put all this stuff away in the kitchen and fix
some drinks.  Mr.  Hill, you can show the kid around the house and where
he'll be sleeping."

George relieved me of some of my load and we headed for the kitchen while
Ty and Scott started their reconnoiter.

We returned to the main lounge with trays of beer, wine, cheeses and dried
fruit just as Ty and Scott came full circle.

"This place is like a palace!" Scott beamed.  "The owners went a bit
overboard with the white paint though!"

"Yeah," I laughed, "but you'll find it's very relaxing after a while.
Nothing to distract you!"

We sat on the couches and tucked into George's late afternoon snack plate,
while he busied himself unpacking Scott's suitcases and making his bedroom
comfortable.  Ty and Scott caught up on family news, and Scott filled us in
on his final exam results.  Inside that pretty head was clearly a working
brain – a University Enter Score of 94 was further cause for
celebration.

As evening drew near, I suggested that Ty take Scott for a walk along the
beach, to properly enjoy the spectacular sunset.

"You're not coming?" Ty asked.

"No, mate," I replied.  "I'm gonna help George with dinner."

The two brothers wandered down the staircase and on to the sand below as
George and I set about preparing the meal.  While George fired up the
balcony barbeque, I seasoned four T- bones, wrapped four large potatoes in
foil and put them in the oven.  With spinach and rocket as our base, George
helped me add avocado, mango, cucumber, feta and walnuts.

While George made from scratch his spectacular olive oil and seeded mustard
dressing, I poured myself a wine and stood on the balcony.  In the distance
I could see the boys meandering along the sand, Ty with his arm
protectively around his youngest brother's shoulder.

With the salad ready to go and the steaks sizzling on a slow heat, George
joined me on the balcony and I poured him a wine.  He too could see the
Hill boys enjoying some private time together.

"They're very close, aren't they sir?" George commented.

"They certainly are, George," I replied.  "I'd love to have had a brother
and enjoyed that kind of mateship."

"He's a fine young man, Scott.  And the resemblance between them is
uncanny."

"Yep, Scott's just a younger version of Ty.  And between them is Lachlan,
whom you haven't met.  He's in the Army and deployed in Afghanistan.  He's
a great bloke too, although with his military haircut he doesn't look so
much like them."

"Scott certainly has it all `going on', as they say," George smiled.
"He'll break a few hearts, I'm sure.  He'll have the girls lining up."

"Um, about that, George," I replied, drawing breath before filling him in
on Scott's recent revelation, and the reason for his visit ...


**********

The steaks were almost done by the time Ty and Scott returned from their
beach walk, and as George laid the table – for four, at my insistence
– the boys grabbed beers and I served the salad and potatoes.

"Hey Mike!" chirped Scott.  "This looks almost good enough to eat!"

"Good on ya, asshole," I laughed.  "Some time during your stay George and I
are gonna get you in the kitchen and teach you a few tricks.  You need to
know that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!"

Without missing a beat, Scott shot back with "I'm not interested in a man's
stomach, I've got my sights set a little lower" and was rewarded with a
light slap across the back of the head from Ty.

The meal was great and the conversation relaxed and jovial.  George cleared
the table and asked Scott what else he'd like.  Just like his brother, ice
cream and chocolate sauce was his first choice for dessert.

"Nothing too challenging, George!" I smiled.  "There's chocolate sauce in
the fridge."

When we'd finished eating, George retired to the kitchen where he
painstakingly hand washed and then dried every piece of crockery and
cutlery.  I'd reminded him earlier in the week that the kitchen had a
state-of-the-art Miele dishwasher but George, as we already knew, was a
stickler for the old ways.  "Dishwashers always leave streaks, Mr Stewart,"
he deadpanned.  "I don't."

While George prepared for the next morning, Ty, Scott and I sprawled out on
the leather couches and watched a re-run of `Harry Potter And The
Half-Blood Prince' on cable.  While I could take or leave J.K. Rowling, Ty
and Scott were engrossed in the sixth installment of the `Potter' series.
As the credits finally rolled, Ty and I chuckled when we realised Scott had
nodded off.

"Hey asshole, bedtime!" Ty laughed as he gently shook his brother.  Scott
woke, stretched and yawned and said, "Yeah, I'm knackered!"

Ty helped him to his feet and the two hugged.  Scott then turned and gave
me the same kind of brotherly hug.  "Goodnight guys," he said, stifling
another yawn.

"Have a good sleep, mate," I smiled.

George appeared with his usual question about breakfast.

"Juice, eggs and toast and coffee for us, at 8.30 thanks George," I
responded.  "Scott?"

"8.30? Are you kidding me?" he laughed.  "That's the middle of the night!"

"Teenager alert, George!" I laughed.

"Maybe 9.30 for me if that's OK?", Scott asked hopefully.  "And I'll have a
bacon and egg sandwich and a Coke."

Ty jumped in with "Fresh orange juice for the kid, George.  Coke is not on
the breakfast menu."

George nodded and returned to the kitchen and as Scott made his way to his
bedroom he turned in the doorway and said, "Hey guys, thanks.  For
everything."

Ty and I stayed seated on the couch for a few minutes, before Ty commented
on the fact that it wasn't especially late.

"Yeah, but Scott's had a pretty full-on day," I reminded him. "I guess it
means we can take advantage of an early night!"

Ty smirked and jumped to his feet.  "Last one into bed gets fucked!" he
laughed, but I cut him off with a request to sit down again, while I
disappeared for a few moments.

I'd made a mental note when we arrived that our en suite had a huge
crab-claw bath and was looking forward to us enjoying a soak together, and
tonight seemed like the perfect time.  I detoured to the kitchen to grab a
packet of tea-lights candles, headed to our bedroom and drew a bath before
illuminating the room with candlelight and loading the CD player with an
instrumental jazz album Ty had packed in his luggage.

I returned to the lounge and lay on the couch with Ty, my head in his lap
for 20 minutes, until the bath was ready.

"Give me five minutes," I said, as offhand as I could manage, "and then
meet me in the bedroom."

"What're you up to?" he asked.

"Can't say too much," I smirk.  "Let's just say you're a very dirty boy and
it's time we did something about it!"

**********

The bath ready, candles burning and thick, soft towels on hand, I stripped
and waited.  A couple of minutes later, Ty walked in, surprise registering
on his face.  "A bath?" he grinned.  "Ace!  Can't wait to tell Scott we've
got a tub."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Mum and dad's place had an old cast iron bath when we were growing up," he
explained, as he stripped his clothes. "We used to love it.  It was big
enough for me and Lachie and Scotty, so we'd all bathe together, and mum
used to get me to wash Scotty's hair, because he wouldn't do it himself.
Then, when they finally renovated, they got rid of the bath and we had a
big shower.  The three of us really missed having a good soak."

Naked, Ty's cock started to harden and he flashed me another of those goofy
grins that made me melt.  "After you," I said, as he slipped beneath the
bubbles.  I followed him and no sooner had my ass hit the bottom of the
bath than his arms were around my neck and his soft, gentle mouth met mine.
Another moment of true happiness for me; I could kiss this guy forever.

As our tongues danced their dance, his hand wrapped around my cock and his
thumb rubbed my precum over the swollen head. My body was in immediate
conflict; complete relaxation from the first bath I'd had in an age, and
extreme excitement at having my guy handle those parts of me I'd reserved
for him exclusively.

Still gently stroking my dick, Ty's other hand picked up a sponge and
started soaping my chest, arms wrapped around me.  He replaced the sponge
with a loofah, reached around and scrubbed my back before turning his
attentions to my shoulders and arms. I sank back into the tub, closed my
eyes and gave in to the sumptuous luxury of being bathed.

Completely relaxed, I snaked my hand through the water, found Ty's thigh
and moved upwards until I found his throbbing monster.  I ran my fingers
lightly up and down his pulsating shaft, delighting in the mewing sounds he
made involuntarily every time I played with him like this.

As he continued to sponge my body, intermittently placing small kisses on
my lips, I increased the tempo of my jacking.  I opened my eyes and watched
him, eyes closed, lips apart, his head leaning backwards, consumed by
exquisite feelings.  I pulled him closer to me and continued to pleasure
him at the core of his manliness.

It wasn't long before I felt his prick swell in my hand and at the same
time we looked down and watched in awe as the eye of his cock started
spurting uncontrollable streams of male mayonnaise high into the air before
splash-landing in the bath water.  I wondered momentarily whether Scott or
George had heard the loud moan that accompanied Ty's ejaculation.

Spent, Ty slumped against my chest.  We clung to each other for a minute or
two before I picked up the sponge and began to gently wash him, knowing his
arousal would build again.  We kissed, and with renewed energy, he pushed
me away from him and used his arms to help me lift myself on to the edge of
the tub.  I'd barely settled before he wrapped his perfect mouth around my
angry wood.  He sucked slowly at first, smug in the knowledge that he could
make me whimper.  When he'd tortured me enough, he started to suck harder,
his fingers massaging my relaxed and sagging balls.

All I wanted to do was lean back and revel in the moment.  As happened
often when I was completely relaxed, and Ty was either sucking my dick or
burying his big boy boner deep inside me, the endorphin release triggered
an emotional earthquake somewhere else deep inside, and I felt like I
wanted to cry.  What the fuck did I do right to be rewarded with someone
this incredible?

I was sending a silent thank you to the cosmos when reality dragged me back
into the moment and I was painfully aware that the troops had rallied and
the charge was imminent.  I made noises that matched Ty's earlier sexual
symphony as I filled his mouth with cum.

Once the army was depleted, we both leaned forward, my head resting against
the top of his head for, who knows how long?  The water was getting cold
when we finally pulled the plug and stepped onto the bathroom floor, both
of us semi hard again.  We dried each other and after a long, languid kiss
Ty said "I love you", turned around and leaned over to brace himself on the
vanity, thrusting his mouth-watering ass provocatively in front of
me. "Fuck me" was all he said.

And did I what!  Fuck the foreplay!  I moved against him, grabbed his
shoulders in my hands, and plunged into him in one fluid movement, my new
reserve of precum making the trip a smooth one.  I turned his head to its
side, and kissed him with a force that almost alarmed me.  How I wanted
this guy.

The kiss broken, I started pumping his ass hard, my fingernails digging
into his hips. Ty repeatedly slammed his ass back against the invasion,
trying to take me as deep as he possibly could.  Fixing my hands on the
vanity for leverage, I gave him the very best I had to offer and we were
both verbalising our pleasure.  The tight ring that clutched at my steely
cock was driving me rapidly towards the edge.  What pushed me over was
glancing in the mirror as Ty's male machine gun fired a copious round dead
ahead, splattering forcefully against the bright white Villeroy & Boch
basin.

I started to feel faint as my brain sent an urgent message to my balls that
abandonment was a physical necessity.  Noises I don't think I've ever made
before escaped from my throat as I flooded his ass with my potent offering.

I held onto him and convulsed and as we came down from the high, I slipped
out of Ty's ass as he turned and took me in his arms.

We eventually made our way to bed and sank, sated, under the sheets.  As
the CD came to an end, Ty positioned himself with his head on my chest, and
I wrapped my arm around his shoulder.

The silence in the room was broken when Ty said suddenly, "You're quiet."

"I know," I said, truthfully.  "I'm just thinking that I can never really
find the right words to express what you mean to me."

Turning his head to look at me, he said, "You don't need words, Mike.  Just
love me."

"You never have to worry about that, mate" I said, as we settled in for the
night

***********.

Once again I woke early, lying spooning with Ty and feeling comforted by
his soothing and rhythmic breathing.  In twilight sleep, I dared to dream
of a future with this beautiful soul who'd so unexpectedly become part of
my destiny.

My reverie was interrupted by George's prompt rap on our bedroom door and
once I'd grunted, he opened the door and appeared, with his customary
aplomb, the perfect tray prepared for breakfast.  I shook Ty who mumbled,
rolled over and tried hard to sleep more.  I shook him again, he rolled
back, opened his eyes and after focusing and orientating, managed a "Hey
George!"

"Good morning Mr Hill," George replied with his usual cheerfulness.  "Your
breakfast is ready."

Slowly, Ty and I say up against our pillows and George handed us our tray.
Like obedient school children in front of the teacher, we drank our juice
and draped napkins across the laps we had hidden beneath the covers.
George made his exit as we tucked in to our eggs on toast and satisfied our
caffeine cravings.

Breakfast over, we lazed in bed reading the newspapers until the door
opened again and Scott walked in, his bacon and egg sandwich and juice in
hand.

"Hey!" he said in a sleepy voice.  "Fuck it's early."

"It's 9.30, asshole," laughed his brother.  "They call it mid-morning in
the real world."

"Can I get in with you guys?" he asked.

"Sure" Ty said.

Scott used his free hand to fold back the sheet, before recoiling.  "Ew!"
he exclaimed.  "You've both got nothing on!"  They both looked at me.

"We're protesting the way silk worms are exploited to make silk underwear,"
I grinned.  "We're very committed to the cause."

Scott chuckled and rolled his eyes, as I pulled back the sheet slightly.
"If you're game, hop into the snake pit!"

Scott slid in beside me and started chomping on his sandwich, as Ty and I
folded our newspapers and watched with fascination the joy on the
teenager's face as he digested George's breakfast bonanza.

Once the beast was fed, we lay back and shot the shit for a while before Ty
asked, "So, you wanna talk about stuff today?"

"Yeah," Scott replied, hesitantly.  "But I think I wanna take a walk along
the beach on my own for a while, just to get my thoughts together.  This
isn't easy y'know?"

I couldn't help myself. I reached out my arm and drew him to me.  "We're
here for you, mate," I said, as reassuringly as I could.  "In your own
time"

"Thanks Mike," he smiled.  "I'm ready.  Just gotta go take a few deep
breaths and think about all the things I've never been able to say til
now."

Ty leaned across us and ruffled his youngest brother's hair.  "We've both
been where you are now mate,' he said.  "Like Mike says, in your own time."

"I'm gonna go for a walk and maybe we'll talk after lunch?"

"Done," I said. "Now you'd better go and get dressed, unless you wanna see
two old naked guys hobbling to the bathroom."

Unexpectedly, Scott kissed me on the cheek.  "I knew I was right about
you!"

As Scott got out of bed, Ty joked in his best Monty Python accent, "He's
not the Messiah, you know.  He's a very naughty boy!"

**********

By the time we'd all showered and dressed, the house became a hive of
activity.  Scott was preparing to go for his walk, George was banging
around in the kitchen and Ty had headed for his makeshift music room and
was gently strumming his guitar, practicing chords.

I made my way to the kitchen and spoke to George about our plans for the
day, to all meet for lunch on the balcony, followed by our heart-to-heart
with Scott.

"Steak and potatoes again, Mr Stewart?" George asked, a nod to Scott's
fairly pedestrian tastes.

"Actually no, George," I smiled.  I'm thinking of driving in to town to get
what I need for you and me to come up with something a bit more upmarket
than a barbeque."

"What did you have in mind sir?"

"I was thinking about it in the shower, George," I mused.  "What do you
think of a mezzo platter to start, with chorizo, saganaki, marinated
mushrooms, olives, dolmades and chicken and beef skewers, with pita?
That'll give him his meat fix.  Then we'll hit him with asparagus risotto
with egg yolk and truffled pecorino?"

"It sounds extraordinary, sir," George smiled.  "You don't think it's a bit
adventurous for young Scott though?"

"George," I chuckled.  "If he's going to be a poof, then I'm making it my
duty to make sure he's a cultured poof.  Ty slipped through the cracks, but
I reckon Scott's ripe for some gourmet grooming!"

"Is it something Mr. Hill would eat, sir?"

"Ty will eat anything we put in front of him, even if he doesn't know what
it is," I chuckled.  "He likes pretty much everything, it's just he doesn't
know how to make it!"

"Very well sir," George replied.  "I'll set the table on the balcony while
you go shopping.  I don't know that the supermarket will have everything
you need but I did notice a small delicatessen when we drove through the
town the day we arrived."

I told Ty what I was doing before heading off with my shopping list and
wallet.  I found much of what I needed in the supermarket and was pleased
when Simon appeared, clearly glad to see me.

"Hey Mike," he said enthusiastically.  "You need a delivery?"

"Not today, Simon. Just grabbing a few things again.  But later in the week
I'll organise a bigger order for you to bring over."

"Scott's not with you today?"

"No, he's gone for a walk.  He's really enjoying the isolation so far, but
I'm waiting for the boredom to set in!"

"Maybe he and I could hang out sometime?  I could show him around the town
maybe, or even give him some driving lessons?  I've got my full license."

"That's a great idea, Simon.  Where can I buy some `P' plates?"

"I've still got mine in the back of my car."

"Great mate, we'll talk about it when you deliver the grocery order on
Saturday.  By the way, is there anywhere around here I can buy chorizo?
And saganaki and pecorino?"

"You'll get the chorizo and probably the pecorino at Grants, the deli on
the corner.  They probably wouldn't have saganaki, but there's a little
Greek restaurant called Pelagos just off the main street, next to the post
office.  They're open for lunch today and they might sell you some.  If
not, you could always use Haloumi.  Not quite as good, but passable.  Just
needs a bit longer in a hot pan with butter."

Ah Simon, I thought to myself, you're on my wavelength!  I have plans for
you!  "Thanks mate," I said.  "See you Saturday".

The deli had most of what I needed and indeed, my new best friend Theo from
Pelagos was more than happy to sell me some fresh saganaki.  I headed for
home and George unpacked my groceries while I looked in the pantry for a
suitable wine.

"What do you think of Pipers Brook chardonnay, George?" I asked.

"Excellent choice, sir," he replied.  "It combines white peach and
nectarine with squeezed lime juice and roasted almond notes, just a hint of
cinnamon."

"I know I've said this before, George," I grinned, "if you were a hundred
years younger ..."

While George took two bottles of Pipers Brook and put them in the fridge to
chill, I poured a coffee from the percolator George always had bubbling
away and opened the balcony doors.  Walking outside I saw Scott in the
distance, sitting by himself on the sand, his knees drawn up and gazing out
to sea.  For a moment I considered leaving the lunch preparation to George
and joining Scott, but dismissed the idea.  He clearly needed some time on
his own.

My thoughts were interrupted by the very clear sound of Ty, strumming the
opening chords of "Hallelujah", the song he'd so beautifully performed in
the last concert of his recent tour.  Moments later, that heavenly voice
started singing from mid-song ...

"Maybe there's a God above/But all I've ever learned from love/Was how to
shoot somebody who outdrew ya/It's not a cry you can hear at night/It's not
someone who's seen the light/It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah ..."

As always, the sheer power of his crystal clear voice overwhelmed me, and
the passion he injected into the lyric gave me goose bumps.  Walking back
through the kitchen, George remarked.  "What a nice song, sir.  I don't
know it.  It's not on Mr Hill's album."

"No George," I replied, "it's a Leonard Cohen song and Ty performed it in
his last concert.  He told me that his single biggest musical influence has
been Leonard Cohen.  He idolizes him."

I left George humming in the kitchen and wandered to the music room,
standing unnoticed in the doorway as Ty, eyes closed and head pointed
Heavenwards, continued ...

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof/You saw her bathing on the
roof/Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya/She tied you to a kitchen
chair/She broke your throne, and she cut your hair/And from your lips she
drew Hallelujah/Hallelujah, Hallelujah ..."

Somehow aware he was not alone, Ty opened his eyes and looked at me.  He
smiled.

"Mate," I said.  "You sing that so fucking beautifully.  Why don't you
record it?"

"I've thought about it," he replied.  "But what's the point?  The
definitive version has already been done.  I reckon it's the most beautiful
song ever written and you just can't beat perfection.  Plenty of people
have tried, but nobody's come close."

"What makes it the most beautiful song ever written?"

Immediately, Ty became enthusiastic, having been given the chance to talk
about music.  "It's just so clever, Mike," he explained.  "See, it's
written in 12/8, which means it combines the basics of both waltz and
gospel.  It was originally written in the key of C major, and the chord
progression follows the lyric – `it goes like this, the fourth, the
fifth, the minor fall, and the major lift'.  So it's C, F, G, A minor and
then F again."

When Ty looked up and saw the blank look on my face, he laughed.  "You
don't have a fucking clue what I just said, do you?"

"Not one iota," I grinned back. "I just love to hear you sing."

"Just my luck to finally fall in love and end up with someone who's tone
deaf."

"Yeah, sorry about that!" I chuckled.  "I've got a big dick though!"

"Yes, you do!" he laughed. "Hallelujah! ..."

I left Ty to his private world of minor falls and major lifts, and joined
George in the kitchen where we set about pulling everything together for
lunch.  By midday, we had things pretty much ready to go and 15 minutes
later, Scott suddenly appeared in the kitchen and announced he was
starving.

"Lunch is almost ready," I assured him.  "Can you go get Ty? We'll eat on
the balcony."

"I was like a mile up the beach," Scott commented, "and I could clearly
hear him singing `Hallelujah'.  Fuck, that song did my head in when I was
little.  He used to sing it for like, hours on end.  That, and every other
fucking song Leonard Cohen wrote."

Scott noticed George's slight wince at the language and was immediately
contrite.  "Sorry, George," he apologised.  "I used to get sent to my room
for using bad language at home."

"No apology necessary, Scott," George assured him.  "I know how young
people talk these days.  It just that it wasn't acceptable when I was your
age."

As Scott moved to find his brother, he turned to George and grinned.  "It's
still not acceptable, George.  And from now on, I promise, no more fucking
swearing!"

He was out the door before the marinated mushroom I threw at him connected
with his head; instead, it left its oily mark on the back of the kitchen
door.

**********

We were seated, white wine in hand, when George arrived with a perfectly
presented mezzo platter.

"What the fuck's that?" asked Scott, before immediately turning to George
and saying, "Sorry George, I mean `what on earth is this wondrous delight
you've set before me?"

"It's a mezzo platter, Scott," George smiled.  "In your language, it's a
bit of foreign this, and a bit of foreign that."

Ty chuckled and slapped Scott on the back on his head.  "You've gotta mind
your language, asshole.  I don't know where the fuck you get your bad
habits from!"

George rolled his eyes.  "Young people," he muttered, as he shuffled back
to the kitchen.

Lunch was fun.  Once Scott got his head around the items on the platter, he
was willing – like his brother – to give it a go.  It was a thumbs up
for the chorizo ("it's a bit like cabana" was Scott's observation) and also
for the meat skewers, saganaki and mushrooms, but thumbs down for the
olives ("they're OK on a pizza, maybe", according to Ty).  And ambivalence
from both of them towards the dolmades.  All things considered, I was
pleased.  And I managed to show Scott how to eat each item correctly,
without him having any sense of being patronised.

He even managed to send me up, without my realising it at first.  Before we
ate, he picked up his cloth napkin, shook it, and stuck the corner of it in
the collar of his tee-shirt.  He saw the shocked look on my face and he and
Ty cracked up.

"Just shittin' ya, Mike," he cackled.  "Of course, the napkin goes across
your lap.  And that's good because it can disguise the fact that some
hottie is feeling you up under the table.  Like, I'd be so lucky!"

It was my turn to reach over and slap the back of his head.  "Asshole!"

We all enjoyed the asparagus risotto, just as much as we enjoyed the look
on George's face when he put the dish in front of Scott, who announced
"asparagus makes my piss smell!"

**********

While George cleared up our lunch dishes, we retired with a second bottle
of wine to the main lounge, all sitting comfortably on separate leather
couches.  We chatted about nothing in a particular for a while, before I
realized that the idle chat was masking uncertainty on both Ty and Scott's
part about who should talk about the elephant in the room.  It was time for
me to break the ice again.

"Ok Scott," I started.  "We've heard a rumor that perhaps you might be `one
of those', and we're both here to rescue your soul, and save you from a
life of guilt, abject misery and expensive moisturizer.  If that doesn't
work, we're here to make you really understand that anything below a 1000
thread count in Egyptian cotton sheets is not acceptable, that porcini is
mushroom and not an operatic composer, and that gravy is not a beverage!"

Ty started to laugh.  "You fuckin' kill me, mate!"

"Language, Ty!" I admonished.  "Scott, seriously, what I really want to say
is that Ty and I are here for you.  We love you, mate.  We want you to be
happy.  So let's just throw all the cards on the table and see what hand we
end up at the end of it all."

I was expecting some sort of smartass reply, and I was thrown completely
off-guard when Scott burst into tears.  In a flash, Ty jumped up and sat
next to him, dragging him into a tight embrace, stroking his back and
kissing his head.  "I love you Scotty, and I've been where you are right
now. I understand.  And so does Mike," he said as Scott blubbered into his
shoulder.

"I've bottled this up for so long," he sobbed.

I leaned forward and said gently, "It's time to pull the cork, mate.  Let's
open that bottle of 2011 Complete Honesty."

For the next three hours, Scott poured his heart out.  We listened as he
described his dismay at realizing he was thinking about guys.  About his
sexual experiences with girls and how, when he started having sexual
thoughts about males, he tried all that much harder to prove he was
straight by notching up female conquests.

His roll call was impressive.  For a small country town boy, he'd managed
to dip his wick more times by 18 than Ty and I had managed to date.  He
publicly rejoiced in his peer group perception that he was a "root rat" but
privately hated himself for jerking off thinking about his mates.

When our discussion touched on guilt, he lost it again and this time, it
was me who held him while he cried it out. There were moments, I knew, when
Ty was having trouble coping himself, but I let him deal with the déjà vu
in his own way.  This was about Scott.

A much-needed light moment came when Scott mentioned a girl he'd had sex
with named Kat.

"You nailed Kat Watson?" Ty asked incredulously.

"Yeah, in Year 10."

"Well, fuck me" Ty laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"I fucked her sister!"

"Ellen?  That stuck-up princess?  You're shittin' me?"

"No, it was the Year 11 formal," Ty recounted.  "We managed to slip outside
and we were making out up against the toilet block, out of sight of
everyone.  Things got a bit hot and we ended up going at it, standing up,
her with her pants around her knees and me with my dick sticking out of my
black pants!  It was all over in about a minute and a half, and the awful
memory I have of that night was being back inside for the bit where
everyone lined up and thanked the teachers, and realizing that Ellen had my
cum on her nice shiny patent leather shoes!"

It was a light enough moment for me to wind up the talk, sensing that we'd
probably covered enough for one day.  I suggested that before the sun set,
the boys might like to have a swim, while George and I thought about
dinner.

"McDonalds?" Scott asked hopefully.

"In your dreams, gay boy!" I laughed.  "You'll thank me one day for the
culinary journey I'm taking you on ..."

**********

As I stood on the balcony, it was hard to walk away from the sight of Ty
and Scott in the surf, rough-housing, splashing each other and, every now
and again, giving each other a quick squeeze.  I pondered momentarily the
pity that Lachlan wasn't here with us, to be part of this significant step
in life of the youngest Hill boy.

I joined George in the kitchen.  We needed to keep it simple after such a
filling lunch, and we only had a choice of what I'd bought earlier.
Together George and I settled on Marinara Linguine with scallops, prawns,
olive oil, garlic and basil.  George had located a Crème Brulee torch in
the utensils drawer (God bless rich people!) so we agreed on a banana Crème
Brulée with macadamia shortbread.

Everything was ready by the time the boys returned from their swim, and
George rather niftily headed them off at the balcony door, handing them
towels to dry themselves before they traipsed water and sand through the
house.

While George and I re-laid the table, Ty and Scott had showers and emerged
just in time to be served their linguine.  It was, at best, well
... perfect!  I'd made it many times before, but there was something George
somehow brought to every dish that made it better every time.  Likewise,
the Crème Brulee.  George was proving himself a dark horse, a gourmet chef
in Concierge clothing. .

By the time we'd had coffee, the yawning had started. We all agreed it had
been a big day, and it was time to say goodnight.  Ty and I both spent a
private moment with Scott, congratulating him on the steps he was taking
and encouraging him to really spill his guts while we were all together in
such a relaxed frame of mind.

I could tell Ty was drained.  As much as I wanted to jump his bones, I knew
he needed sleep so when we slipped naked under the sheets, I maneuvered Ty
on to his side and cuddled up in a spooning position behind him.  My left
arm was under his neck, allowing me to run my fingers softly through his
hair.  My right hand made gentle circles on his hairy chest, and I could
feel him relax even further.

No words were needed; touch was expressing everything we needed to say.
Every now and again I would kiss the back of Ty's neck as my hand massaged
his chest, my fingers occasionally gliding over his nipples, extracting a
soft sigh each time.

Our room was silent but for our mutual relaxed breathing and in the
distance, I could hear waves lapping the shore of our private beach.
Gradually, my hand moved in soothing circles down across Ty's abdomen and I
smiled in the dark when I realised that his cock, flaccid when we climbed
into bed, was now completely stiff and bumping against the back of my hand.

I slid my hand lower until my fingers found the tangle of wiry black hair
and I lazily scratched him.  He moaned softly.

Further down my hand travelled, until they found the sagging flesh of his
generous scrotum and my fingers lightly drummed the orbs that hung heavily
inside it.  Another moan.  My hand encircled his sac and very tenderly I
held his love spuds, bouncing them and moving them around in my palm.  The
moan was louder this time.

My fingers moved under his ballbag and rubbed against his root muscle,
probing the base of his throbbing shaft in circular motions.  I had him in
erotic limbo, probing the base of his mushroom-tipped man sword but not yet
circling the trunk.

It was time to give him what he wanted.  I gauged the thickness of his now
fully hard shaft between two fingers, the width equal to almost three
fingers.  No two ways about it, my guy was hung!  His penis, like the rest
of him, was solid, sturdy and strong.

As he leaned his head back into my shoulder, I encircled his shiny flesh
helmet with my thumb and forefinger, and massaged the loose, nervy skin
that skirted the flange of the head.  Ty's dick twitched impatiently in my
hand and, much as I was enjoying the laziness of my exploration, he was
letting me know he needed to unload.

Slowly and tenderly I started to stroke him, the first upward glide
eliciting a visceral and very vocal reaction.  I increased the pressure
slightly and as my hand reached his helmet, I lightly twisted him and felt
him shudder.  My hand travelled slowly back down his shaft, and for a brief
moment, cupped his sperm-tanks.

I continued my stroking, slow and easy, and Ty's breathing became more
intense.  For a brief time I concentrated my strokes on the upper half of
the cock, before grasping the base and working the neck of his man meat
with alternating strokes and squeezes.

All good things eventually come to an end, and as I quickened the pace of
my jacking, Ty's legs started to tense and I could tell he was clenching
his toes. On each downward stoke, my little finger bumped his sac, which
had tightened in readiness for his imminent release.

Suddenly, he was into the home stretch and I started to jack him with long,
firm strokes, making sure on each upstroke, my thumb and forefinger
stimulated the nerve endings under the head at the split.

He let out a low, animalistic growl as his cock swelled in my hand and I
could feel the rush of semen as it raced from his balls, through his shaft
and left his body through the eye of his cock.  For a guy who'd shot his
white ecstasy all over the porcelain of the bathroom vanity only the night
before, he was certainly loaded.  He discharged his seed in a series of
long spurts which splattered against the crisp white sheets like liquid
confetti.

Finally drained, he slumped back against me, and I peppered his neck with
little kisses, my hand still holding his dick, the last trickles of his
ejaculate running down my fingers.  This was one time I wasn't anticipating
any post-orgasmic intimacy.

I wanted Ty to sleep.  And he did.  I rolled on to my back and even in
slumber, he automatically moved himself in our usual position.

I closed my eyes, sent my usual silent thanks to whoever it was pulling the
strings that enabled me to experience this kind of happiness, and prayed
that with our help and support, Scott would find his feet and that the
journey ahead would be a happy one for him ...

**********

Always happy to have your feedback.  marcusis32@live.com.au