Date: Wed, 19 Feb 2014 08:28:24 -0700
From: Durriken Homewood <rainbowshadows@gmail.com>
Subject: Beneath the Sycamore, Chapter 4

Beneath the Sycamore Chapter 4
(C) 2014 Durriken Homewood
All Rights Reserved

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This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or
dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are a
product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously.

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(Please note that, due to some excellent feedback I received from my
fantastic readers, I have decided to rewrite this chapter and continue the
story. Thank you for your support!)

-Chapter 4-

   In the dark spaces of the soul, where light fears to go and shadows
wander under their own will, motivated by their own desires, the darkest of
secrets can be kept, nurtured, imprisoned, starved; a garden of the damned
atop the delights of paradise. Aaron found himself moseying through the
orchards of that place with closed eyes and a mug of coffee cooling on the
counter nearby. The tree that was the secret word, Thespian, should have
born no fruit. Now, he was up to his eyeballs with it, bright bruise
colored bushels of bumpy balls that deserved to rot away to the no-place of
buried confidences.

   Damn Luke! Damn him for remembering and double-damn him for interrupting
what was turning out to be a pretty good day. With only a minimum amount of
effort, the feeling of Jeremy's lips kissing his cock, slurping up his hot,
fresh from the nut cum, could be conjured up as one of a dozen other
reasons he ought to go downstairs and throttle his friend. Damn it!

   "Aaron?" Jeremy's voice, so sweet and brilliant, was a beacon of light
guiding him from the dark garden and back into the kitchen. He stood at the
top of the stairs, an empty laundry basket hanging down his side while the
washer hissed a cleansing melody up the passage behind him. Luke's presence
in the house had turned the boy toward timid, but his gaze lingered on
Aaron's crotch without fear or shame, two hot beams setting Aaron's juices
a'percolating.

   God, he was so fucking sexy! In all the years that they had been just
brothers, Aaron had missed the potential of his beauty, the grace of his
form. He might never have known the brush of his skin, the tantalizing
mystery of his flesh, were it not for that accident beneath the sycamore.

   "What's up, bro?"

   He shuffled forward, dragging his feet across the floor, looking
uncomfortable under the weight of his thoughts.

   "I...I think Luke is crying," he said, pulling up between Aaron's knees
and parking there. He slipped his fingers beneath the pajama bottoms,
knuckles brushing against his bush. "Is he okay?"

   No, he wasn't. The idiot was lucky to be alive and, by the look of him
at the front door, had just managed to escape.

   Slipping his arms around his little brother, he pulled him in for a
delicate, assuring kiss. "He'll be fine," he answered. "Probably just a
little heart broken. You remember what it was like for me when Heidi left;
I was a wreck. He's going through the same sort of thing."

   "That sucks," Jeremy said, showing his age and inexperience in the
words. "I'm glad I don't have to worry about that."

   "Why not?"

   Jeremy looked up, his expression unreadable. Behind his blue-green eyes,
though, a private thought flashed and then receded into the darkness, a new
seed for his little brother's garden. Seeing it stirred a twinge of
jealousy. If he couldn't share his mind with Aaron, who would he share it
with?

   A cold, desolate canyon opened up in him, blowing hard reality out of
the void and whipping the icy answer like a December gust against his naked
body: His boyfriend. One day, Jeremy would find someone, fall in love, and
tumble from Aaron's arms into someone else's. That he would have to let it
happen, without a fight, made the realization all the more painful.

   The pain must have showed on his face because Jeremy delivered the next
kiss, a comforting, healing medicine that warmed him from the inside and
capped the wound that had appeared.

   "So, I was thinking," Jeremy said, switching topics, "about how
we're...doing stuff together and I was...I was wondering if maybe we
could...do more?"

   Aaron grinned at him, thoughts flying to an unknown moment in time when
he would bury his cock deep into his brother's body, listening to the
noises of delight that he would make under Aaron's skilled loving.

   "Like what?"

   Jeremy blushed, smiling. "You know...stuff."

   "Sorry, bro, I'm just not as smart as you," Aaron teased. "You'll have
to spell it out for me."

   He turned an even deeper shade of red, leaning in close enough that his
torso pressed up against Aaron's crotch.

   "Sex stuff," he whispered.

   It was so adorable, watching him try to grow out of his naivety,
oblivious to how his innocence turned Aaron on. He licked his little
brother's neck, tasting the bitter heat of his libido on the smooth skin
beneath his jaw.

   "You want me to fuck you, little brother?" Aaron breathed, dropping his
voice to a low, husky rumble.

   "Yeah."

   "You want me to ride your tight little ass?"

   Jeremy shuddered, swallowing hard as he nodded.

   He remembered the conversation in Jeremy's bedroom, what he had
revealed, and followed his instincts.

   "You want me to use you, bro? Make you my cumrag?"

   The youth melted against him, nude chest gliding along Aaron's skin, so
smooth and creamy. His fingers had bunched up the pajama bottoms, lifting
the hem above Aaron's ankles as he gathered the material, leaning into
Aaron to press his younger cock between his big brother's spreading legs.

   A memory blurred across Aaron's mind's eye, triggered by the pressure of
Jeremy's boner against the sensitive strip of skin between his balls and
asshole. He was on his back, arms stretched above his head, bound by cuffs
anchored at the bed posts. A leather collar had been fixed around his neck,
his ankles lifted and strapped into stirrups hanging from above. Heidi
reclined alongside him, her hand curled around a thin chain that linked his
collar to the one worn by the man between his legs, his face close enough
to feel his breath on his lips.

   He had been hesitant to allow this, not because he would be the
receptive partner--Heidi liked fucking him with a strap-on whenever she
took the Domme role--but because of who would be doing the penetrating.

   "It's part of being his Sponsor," Heidi had cooed. "He has to know he
can trust you to be there for him when he needs you. I'll even let you
break him in once he's done. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Luke?"

   The sound of feet thumping up the stairs drew him out of the memory the
same instant that Jeremy separated from him. His little brother rounded the
counter to block his teen wood from view when Luke appeared.

   Jeremy was right; he had been crying, and hard too by the look of
him. His eyes were red and puffy, face drawn and streaked by tears. He had
kicked off his single shoe and pulled on a hooded sweatshirt from Jeremy's
wardrobe, hugging it and himself to his chest.

   "I can't get your coffee pot to work," he mumbled, hanging in the
doorway leading downstairs with a cloud of defeated misery clinging to him.

   A mug was settled onto the counter, Jeremy's delicate hand sliding
across the surface of it as though to tease Aaron. "I'm gonna hang out in
my room," he said.

   "Thanks, bro."

   When he had gone, Luke dropped boneless onto the barstool beside him,
reaching across to pour himself a cup of the steamy, black brew. As he did,
the red friction burn around his neck became more prominent, catching
Aaron's attention and forcing him to see the other marks: the yellowing
bruises around his throat, a discoloration beneath his cheek, a glistening
split on his lower lip. The sight stirred up angry bile that burned the
back of Aaron's tongue; that he forced himself to swallow down again. Luke
liked the rougher play, and had no doubt brought this on himself, though he
at least knew when it had gone too far.

   "Was it Katie?" Aaron asked, staring into his coffee.

   Luke sniffled. From the periphery of his vision, Aaron watched him shake
his head, saw his hands trembling around the mug. There were bruises on his
knuckles, swelling on the flat backs of his fingers, opening up a different
possibility--that he had been in some sort of fight.

   The anger felt justified now. Aaron swiveled toward him, his knee
brushing against Luke's thigh, who twitched away from the contact. He
lifted his gaze, looking to Aaron from the corner of his eyes.

   Just as he opened his mouth to confirm his suspicion that Luke had, in
fact, been brawling, the door chimed again, followed by a loud pounding.

   Luke froze, fear etched across his features.

   "Aaron! Open the fucking door!" Luke's father hollered from the other
side.

   His friend tumbled out of the barstool, backing away from the sound at
the front of the house.

   "Hide! My room!" he whispered to Luke, standing. Jeremy, summoned by the
angry noises, flew into the kitchen, putting Aaron between himself and the
front door.

   "What's going on?"

   "Chill, bro," Aaron said. "I got it." He left Jeremy in the kitchen,
making his way to the door.

   "Mr. Sanders?"

   "Open the god damned door!" the man called out in reply. "I know that
little freak is in there."

   "Mr. Sanders, Luke isn't here."

   "Bullshit! Let me in!"

   Jeremy appeared behind him, holding the land-line out to
him. "Mr. Sanders," he warned, "If you don't leave, I'm calling the cops."

   There was one final thud against the door, followed shortly thereafter
by a car door slamming and the squeal of tires against the road.

   "Should we still call the cops?"

   Aaron turned away from the door, realized he was shaking, adrenaline
pumping through his fluttering heart. He took a deep breath, willing
himself to calm down, and pulling his little brother against him in a
protective hug. The boy wasn't even a little frightened, suffering Aaron's
embrace for a short while before squirming away.

   "No," Aaron answered. "Call Mom and Dad, though, and tell them Luke will
be here for a while. Tell them about his dad."

   "They're gonna freak out," Jeremy countered. "They'll wanna come home."

   He heard the implication in the statement, that if they came home, their
affair would be ended. Brushing his fingers through Jeremy's fluffy hair in
assurance, he replied, "They won't, though. They're too devoted to this
business thing. Even if they did come back, you'll still be my little
cumrag."

   Jeremy colored, and started dialing.

   A few moments later, Aaron was at his bedroom door, the rush-thrum of
the washer nearby an irony of domestic sound against the excitement of
recent events. He tried the doorknob, found it locked.

   "Luke, it's me," he called through the barrier. "He's gone."

   On the other side, he heard his friend move off of his bed, unlock the
door. He pulled it open, ashen faced and with eyes darting around the space
behind Aaron as though his Father would pop out at any instant and drag him
away.

   "You're sure he's gone?"

   "He's gone," Aaron promised. Luke moved aside to let him pass, closing
and locking the door again behind him. Aaron flipped on the light switch.

   A soft purple-blue glow lit up the sprawling space. Before Aaron had
taken it over and turned it into his bedroom, the place had been designed
to function as an entertainment room, with a built in bar that he now used
to keep his snacks with his malfunctioning coffee pot serving as the
centerpiece. Low to the ground, his bed sat opposite the door, the covers
speckled with lint caught beneath the black light he used in place of the
fluorescent tubes that had been there originally. A couple of torchiere
lamps stood on either side of his desk, serving as regular lighting when he
needed it for homework or reading. Though there was no television, he kept
a futon where one might have been if there were, facing a candle heavy
table with a pair of throne-like chairs flanking it. the place was
spacious, serving his as more than somewhere to sleep, fuck and jerk
off. It was his private sanctuary; a playground of pleasure.

   "I'm sorry," Luke said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I didn't know
where else to go."

   The irritation he had first felt toward his friend for arriving while he
was busy with Jeremy drained away beneath a deeper concern and
affection. He sunk onto the bed beside him, laying a hand over Luke's knee
to give him a supportive squeeze.

   "don't worry about it," he replied. "I'll always be here for you, man."

   Luke leaned against him, resting his head on Aaron's shoulder. The scent
of him, spicy sweat under a layer of warm, buttery earth and something akin
to sugared walnuts, drove into Aaron's awareness, triggering another
memory.

   Much as they were now, he and Luke were alone in Aaron's room. Aaron had
just pulled the blanket over his shoulders, staving off the winter chill
weeping through the basement walls, condom covered cock buried to the root
in Luke's incredible heat, his tight orifice clinging to him in a vice-like
grip. Upstairs, his parents were ringing in the New Year with a houseful of
other guests, the champagne they had shared with Aaron swirling around his
fuzzy brain.

   There were no collars, no cuffs, no coercion. Just the two of them,
perhaps a little tipsy, but in charge of their faculties and enjoying
themselves, and each other.

   "How long will Heidi be gone?" Luke had asked, sliding his fingers
through Aaron's hair and then pulling him in for a deep kiss, encouraging
him to start up his thrusting again.

   "Next week," Aaron answered, pumping his hips, building himself up to a
slow, smooth rhythm that gave him greater control over the trajectory of
his cock, allowing him to target Luke's prostate with each inward
push. "Her parents are checking out that place, seeing if they really want
to move there."

   "Do you...ungh...think they will?":

   Aaron reward his grunt by picking up the pace, lengthening his
strokes. "She said she doesn't think they will."

   The conversation had fallen away at that point; the only sounds Luke
could get out being guttural, primal urges, begging Aaron to fuck him
harder, faster, deeper. But as Aaron neared his climax, teeth chewing on
Luke's neck to muffle his own moans lest they attract his family, Luke did
manage one final coherent statement.

   "I...love...you..."

   And Aaron, caught up in the throes of ecstasy, had responded in kind.

   The words tickled in memory against the back of his throat now, begging
to spill over into Luke's hair. He cleared his throat of them, shrugging
his friend off of his shoulder. Luke took the hint, sitting up under his
own power.

   "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

   "He caught me," Luke answered. "Well, he caught me us, I just wasn't
quick enough getting my pants on."

   "You and Katie?"

   Luke gave him a caustic, side-long glance, and then lay back on the bed.

   "Katie and I haven't been together since spring break."

   "So, who was it?"

   "Some guy I met at the mall. He thought my collar was hot. If I had
known Dad had forgotten his phone, I wouldn't have brought him home." He
raised his hand, considered his knuckles. "I got in a couple of shots,
though," he added. "Knocked him out too. I guess that cat's out of the bag
now. He knows I like dick, which means Mom will know soon enough and off
I'll go to Straight Camp."

   "Just...just tell 'em you're bi," Aaron suggested. "Tell 'em it was the
first time and that you're into girls now."

   Luke shook his head. "I'm done hiding, Aaron. You taught me that a slave
is always truthful, that I shouldn't be ashamed of myself. That's why I
agreed to join the...why I agreed to it."

   He caught Aaron's gaze, holding it. "I wish it had been you."

   The part of himself that was in charge of such things, told Aaron that
he should be surprised. He wasn't. Deep, deep down, he had known about
Luke; had seen the hurt in his eyes whenever he hugged Heidi or carried on
about her. Subtle awareness and instinctive suspicion were not the same as
open admission, though.

   "I know you're into girls," Luke continued, looking away. "I
just...well, you're my Sponsor, right? You should know these things so that
I can be a better slave."

   Girls. Teasing, trampy vixens that tortured and titillated but never
made good on their promises. They weren't the effort anymore, especially
when he had Jeremy nearby, begging him for all that he had to give. But the
icy chasm opened up again, reminding him that Jeremy would not always be
there to answer his needs.

   Jeremy was young and inexperienced. He was hot to trot now, but what
about later? And, even if he could keep up with Aaron's voracious
sex-drive, they were brothers. That preexisting relationship had to be
preserved for familial concord. He fit into the hole that Heidi had left in
his life, but that hole was bigger now.

   Sighing, he fell back, looked to his friend. Luke was a handsome young
man; a real beauty of masculinity even when he was mewling like a girl.

   "You know how horny I am," he said, turning his attention to the
ceiling.

   Luke laughed. "You're a fucking sex-fiend, dude."

   "And I'm not going to beat the shit out of you. I'm not into that."

   "Got it."

   He could hear the smile in his voice, confirmed it an instant
later. "And," he added, rolling onto his side, "I don't want to hear any of
that silly faggot nonsense about being life partners, or that you don't do
something now that you used to do, just because you're gay. We're
boyfriends, and we're the same people we were before."

   "We can cuddle, though, right?"

   There was genuine need in the question. Aaron answered it by laying an
arm across his chest, pulling Luke to spoon against him when he turned onto
his side.

   "I love you, Aaron."

   "I know, babe," he answered, pressing his lips to the back of Luke's
head, holding him close. It was New Year's all over again, but with clothes
between them. "I love you too."

   ----

   Thank you all for your feedback! I welcome your comments, and look
forward to hearing from you. Drop me a line at rainbowshadows@gmail.com.