Date: Sat, 28 May 2011 11:44:17 +0200
From: Calvin Corvidian <cancorv@gmail.com>
Subject: Clouding Certainties

A fucking hot day at the end of semester. And although we've got essays and
papers and tests galore, all my best friend Jason can think of is going for
a swim. When Dad got a golden handshake a couple of years back, it was all
about home improvements. The rumpus room and a pool were not bad additions,
but my own bedroom on top of the rumpus room was way cool. Fucking
awesome. I could jump from my own little Juliet balcony into the pool if I
was drunk, stoned or stupid. Fortunately, testosterone has yet not
conspired with any of these enhancers, though I, that's Patrick to you, am
still young and could easily be led astray. With these home additions, we
knew we were made. Yuppies, in the best sense of the word, overnight. I
developed a new appreciation for my father's priorities.

Jason tore me away from my algebra kicking and screaming. I was so close to
finishing, but he would have none of it. We were out of the library within
5 minutes and on our bikes. Bikes? Yikes! You might think bikes are a bit
lame, but when Dad offered my big brother Frank and me a car to share, we
both declined without thinking, let alone consulting. We had been a cycling
family forever, the town was not that big and winters not so severe.

Once we get home, we have to shower. Dad is really strict about showering
before swimming, and especiallly if we've been at school all day or riding
a lot. He says he doesn't want the water flavoured with all that sweat and
hair and bum-berries and piss and smegma and pre-cum or anything else late
adolescent bodies have to offer. As usual, I ask Jason if he wants to
shower first and totally not as usual, he suggests showering together. I'll
wash yours if you wash mine, stuff. Don't fuckin' think so mate, I'm
thinking. He just smiles and shrugs and shucks his stuff and steps into the
shower. Doesn't close the door, doesn't close the shower curtain, keeps
talking to me and asks me to pass him a different shampoo from the one on
the window sill. It's no big deal, we've known each other for 15 years and
been through the mill together. Jeez, he is always round here, having me
help with his homework and stuff, but mainly just taking refuge from his
dumb-arse family. They don't deserve a kid like him. I'm no genius, but he
really needs help in the scholastic department. He's the most important
thing in my life, and there's nothing we wouldn't do for each other. But
his family. Don't get me started.

So Jason's in the shower taking a huge amount of time for a pre-swim rinse
and talking to me so as to keep me there. I'm thinking this is not like
him, but we're best friends and nothing else really matters. He's paying
great attention to his kit, stretching his foreskin and washing all around,
stretching his scrotum and sending the soap up and down his crack like he
wants it to disappear - the soap, that is.

Then it's my turn to shower and totally not as usual is Jason sitting naked
on the toilet seat, dripping wet while I shower. He maintains his innocous
banter until I start to turn the taps off. Suddenly I'm hearing how I
didn't wash under my arms thoroughly and that my dick still stinks. How
could anyone know that with all the shampoo and soap smells floating around
on the steam waves clouding up the little poolside bathroom? He's never
asserted himself like this before. I reckoned his class-consciousness had
created a self-consciousness in him that I never sanction. But when it's
deep inside, it's hard to hide (hey that's a nice phrase - maybe the Pet
Shop Boys could set it to music. Or Rufus).

As I reach for my swimmers, Jason informs me, yes, He informs Me, that
we'll be skinny dipping today. Don't fucking think so, mate. But he throws
me that you-don't-owe-me-a-thing-but-please-do-it-for-me look. I give him
my you're-acting-weird-again look and shrug and we wander out to the
pool. Dad and Frank won't be home for a few hours, and the neighbours
aren't that close and can't see over the hedges and it's not like the
garage is made of glass. So there's nought to worry about.

I usually swim naked when home alone. I love the feel of the water all over
me and quite simply the audacity titilates. We splash around and climb out
and jump in repeatedly. He comes close to me as we are treading water and
splashes me in the face. I cough and splutter like a little kid. He holds
me as if afraid I'm going to drown, by which time I've recovered and am
laughing it off. He's still holding me and our faces are the closest
they've ever been. He leans forward and at that very moment everything is
clear. He wants to kiss me. I go to mangle his kit and am shocked. Totally
shocked - he's got a hard on, it's size suprises me and even in the cold
water it feels warm. He sensed my mixed feelings and waited for me to
untangle them. I felt a kind of love and hatred in equal measure. This is
not the friendship we know and love and live. I scrambled away and
clambered out of the pool. I spread out a towel out on the grass and lie
down with my forearm covering my eyes. I heard him climb out of the pool
and felt his shadow as he stood over me. I knew that I would see his
erection towering a metre above me if I opened my eyes. I didn't. Instead,
I laughed and said you're full of shit and grabbed his ankles, toppling
him. He fell on the grass. He grabbed me. We ended up wrestling and
wrestling for what seemed like ages. He knew he had nothing to lose
now. The cat was out of the bag. My best friend is a faggot and in love
with his best friend. My beautiful, sporty, muscly, stupid, funny friend of
15 years has chosen today to hold me down on the grass, to press our naked
throbbing erections together, and to cloud the certainty of our lives from
this moment on.

And now I'm thinking that maybe I feel romantic love for him too. Where did
this come from? This thought had never surfaced. He must have sensed my
uncertainty. He started moving his hips to force some reaction from the
friction between our cocks. Every muscle and every vain in my body were as
tense as they had ever been. I was not relenting. My squirming urged him
on. We were at last staring defiantly into each other eyes. His face
lowered closer and closer and I flicked my head to one side, and he
whispered those three stupid words in my ear. I relaxed. He'd said it
now. I felt for all the pain he must have suffered, for all the courage it
took to say that. I loved him too. At that very moment, I discovered
something about myself that had lain beyond the realms of
self-awareness. He started gyrating his cock very hard into mine and I knew
that either of us spilling our seed at this moment was not on the
agenda. With renewed energy I tossed him off me with all the muscle I could
muster. The next thing I heard was his head cracking on the poolside
concrete.

I crawled up and lent over him on all fours. Not a sound, not a twitch, not
anything. I am too young for this. Dad has just got all this work done on
the house. Life is exactly as it was meant to be. I have not killed
him. Please Jason, I whispered. I put my thumb on Jason's wrist. A pulse is
discernible. What does that mean? I've transformed him into a vegetable, a
quadraplegic, he will have lost his memory and not recognise me? Where's
the blood that should be flowing out of his head and into the pool? Don't
die, please don't die or you'll never get to hear me tell you that I love
you. I love you, I love you. Oh fuck, you don't want to be hearing this
now. Shit. Oh Jason, at least one last kiss. A first kiss and a last
kiss. Of fuck, the shortest love story in the world. Patrick runs his hands
all over Jason's body, gently stroking and then firmly pressing. He looks
at his friend, his lover perhaps, and finds himself looking at him
intensely. Patrick has never looked at his friend's body in the way that he
is now, and in a way that he now realises Jason has been looking at him for
years. How could I be so blind? I am such an idiot. Patrick is breathing
gently into Jason's face while massaging his heart. He remembers hearing
that that's what they did for Princess Diana in her last hours. Jason gets
an erection. And smiles. He utters unsteadily, If this is what death
brings, then bring it on. This is truly heaven. Patrick looks at him, at
first in a kind of rage, then breaks down, sobbing his heart out. Patrick,
You've no idea how much I love you. Jason consoles him, That's OK - you
didn't even know yourself. Patrick helped him sit up. Jason leaned into him
and Patrick embraced him. How long have you known? Jason answered
infuriatingly that he'd never not known. So what now? Patrick asks the new
master. Hows about that kiss the world's been waiting so patiently for?
They roll over onto the towel on the grass and embark on a Guinness Record
breaking kiss. Patrick kisses way beyond Jason's lips, slithering around
his neck and earlobes and adam's apple and nipples and navel and down
Patrick's muscular V line into his crotch. Stretching himself stomach-down
on the grass, Jason went face down into Patrick's hairless scrotum and
devoured the cold-water scrunched-up eggs. And slowly tongued his way up
his friend's cock from base to tip. Patrick had never expected the damp
warmth of a mouth engufling his cock to send tingles from the top of his
head to the soles of his feet, from the heart of his being to the soul of
his love for his life-long friend. If ever there was such a thing as pure
love, Patrick knew that he was experiencing it here and now. Life had led
to this point. Nothing else could ever matter.

One evening ten days later, Patrick was reading on his bed, scribbling some
marginalia for his last essay for the semester, when he heard curious
noises from his brother's room. He closed his book and used the dimmer to
turn the light off. He lay down on the bed and listened. Sweet noises that
Patrick thought might have been coming from a romance film. And yet, the
noises were somehow more arousing – aroused perhaps. When Patrick's room
had been added not long ago, the design had to be worked around not only
the rumpus room but their mother's tree, sacred to Frank and Patrick and to
their father. This arrangement meant that at night, when one boy's lights
were on and the other's off, it was quite easy to see into the room more
lit. Sound and light conspired against Frank this evening. His little
brother was getting a full jerk-off show. Despite being a first, this was
something that Patrick acknowledged with only some slight interest – OK,
so I am not the only one jerking off around here – but that was the
extent of it, ... except that the soundtrack of the film that Frank was
getting his rocks off to really pricked up his ears. The volume was turned
up to fill the house. He became so terrified that his suspiciouns were
correct that he tiptoed through their shared bathroom to Frank's door and
listened in. Frank obviously thought he was home alone since Patrick was
supposed to have gone out with his father tonight. Alas, it had been
cancelled at the last minute. When the cat's away, and all that
jazz. Patrick turned the door handle very slowly and looked across Frank's
vibrating right elbow at the video he was jerking off to. The video had
just got to the point where Jason was standing over Patrick, arms akimbo
and Patrick had his eyes covered with his whole forearm. Patrick looked
across and saw the digital video camera on a tripod by the window now
pointing at Frank filming his own jerk off session. Frank had filmed him
and Jason that afternoon. Patrick felt violated. The most important private
moment of his life captured by his tacky brother, who was now using it,
using him, as a jerk-off stimulant. How maddening. How saddening.

This of course meant that Frank knew that he was in love with Jason. And
now, fuck me dead, he's jerking off to it? What does that make him? My
brother is gay? And a voyeur? But what most alarmed Patrick was the next
sequence in the video – Jason looks up and smiles a cocky,
he's-putty-in-my-hands-now grin and mouths thank you into the camera.

Patrick says out loud, Was I so set up? Frank coolly responds, Dude, you've
been setting yourself up for that for years. Since your First Pube Day. Why
did you make him wait so long? Patrick asks him to stop jerking off and to
talk some sense. From the dozen or more pairs of shorts and underpants and
jeans and socks and t-shirts carpetting the floor, Patrick snatches up some
board shorts and throws them into his brother's lap. Fuck you Frank. I
don't deserve this. I don't deserve my brother and my best friend ganging
up on me.

Now little brother, which bit don't you like? You got what you wanted,
whether you knew you wanted it or not. Now let me tell you the bit I don't
like. That kid moping around here, doe-eyed, tongue hanging out for your
arse, for how many years? And all you offer him is another session of
Nintendo and a bike ride. Kiddo, you've messed him up terribly.

Patrick decided he'd deal with that info later. Now, let me tell you what I
don't like, big brother. First of all, if you knew all this, you could've
let on. Secondly, you set me up. You and Jason planned this behind my
back. And thirdly, you are jerking off to it. Are you some kind of fag, or
something?

Frank assumes some wise older brother attitude, new to both of them. He
gestures to his brother to sit before him so that he, in some overblown
Socratic pose, can spill the facts of life on the unititated. This is going
to be good.

Patrick decides to play along and sits cross-legged in front of his
brother, still sitting in his swivvel chair, still naked except for the
board shorts standing in for a loin cloth. Let me deal with your questions
in reverse order. He jerks the swivvel chair forward, grabs Patrick by the
back of the head and thrusts it into his crotch. In order to find out if I
am a fag, you can suck my cock and I'll let you know if I like it. We call
this empirical research at college.

Patrick garners all his energy to fight his way out of his brother's grip,
but the older is stronger and was well prepared. He's thrown the loin cloth
away and has Patrick's face at the base of his crotch. I even showered for
you.

You are one sick fucker, Patrick emitted, muffled by sundry
genitalia. Frank dragged his head up, yanking the long thick blond
hair. With his other hand he positioned his cock at Patrick's lips. Open
wide, come inside, it's play school, he sang. Patrick kept his lips firmly
closed. We can stay like this all night, if you like, Frank said tightening
his grip on the hair. After a minute's impasse, Frank tried to force
Patrick's teeth apart like a parent frantically grappling for something
their infant swallowed. Little brother, it's no big deal. You've been
sucking cock for almost two weeks now. What have you got against mine?
Frank reached across to his desk for a ruler and smacked Patrick on the ear
with it. Patrick screamed and Frank smiled. Patrick sighed, opened his
mouth and took the angry, ugly cock into his mouth. Oh, Jason told me you
were good, but wow, you're an expert. Frank held him firmly by both ears
and moved his head up and down on his cock. Not wanting to speak with his
mouth full, Patrick shouted a warning to Frank not to come in his mouth. I
would never do such a thing to my little faggot brother, he said grabbing
another clump of hair. You suck until I've had enough, he said
masterfully. ... whereupon he filled his little brother's mouth with a huge
load. Patrick was expecting it and took it like a man. By now, he refused
to appear desperate. He threw his head back and gargled it, and laughed at
the same time. This was so grotesque that it even alarmed Frank. Sensing
this, Patrick slowly stood up and coughed the load into his brother's
face. He was ill-prepared for this and liked it not. There was not a single
thing he could do about it. Patrick slowly removed his clothes in front of
his brother, used his underpants to scrape the mess off his loving
brother's face and walked into their ensuite bathroom He showered, got
dressed and went for a late night bike ride.

He stopped at one of the service stations on the highway, and rang
Jason. Patrick didn't want to go home that night, but neither could he go
back to Jason's shambolic house, shambolic family. They sat there drinking
coffee, squeezing each other's legs together under the table and not
looking into each other's eyes. They rode up to the college where one of
their school friends let them in to one of the many empty rooms that there
are by this time of the semester. They made love all night. Slept till
midday and talked all afternoon.

Was there something going on between you and Frank?  Well, we never fucked,
if that's what you're asking. Hell, I don't even know if he's gay. But he
sure knew that I was and that you were the one I wanted.  And that nothing
of the sort had ever occurred to me. He knew that too, didn't he?  Your
brother's a prick, but he had us sorted. Do you remember that afternoon we
christened your pool?

I remember we planted those rose bushes for mum, and then Dad squirted us
all with champagne so that we had to dive in and rinse it off. He was so
proud.

Well, you mightn't remember just how much fun we were having. I don't think
I did until a week later. I was at your place and you were doing something
with your Dad, and Frank showed me the photos he'd taken that
afternoon. He'd made a careful selection. In every one, my arm was around
your shoulder, or both my hands were on your shoulders, we were pushing
each other into the pool. And our innocent larking around in the water
suddenly didn't look so innocent. My tongue was not the only thing hanging
out. As Frank pointed out, the way his camera caught me looking at you
spelled one thing only.  Love?  Bingo.  OK Frank. You've got me. But please
don't tell Patrick. I love him to death and I'd rather love him at this
intimate distance than lose his friendship.  I do so like a masochist,
Frank said. But look at you. What's there not to like? Even a little twirp
like you has his good points. Frank then grabbed Jason's crutch and held it
long enough for Jason to start filling out. You're going to make his arse a
very happy receptacle with this weapon. One day. Jason was shaking like
crazy. Frank unzipped him and let it spring out. Dude, and he started
stroking it. If I was a cock-sucker, I'd reckon that there's nothing I'd
like more than this thing.  I'm rather partial to it myself, Jason
whispered nervously, trying to lessen the tension.  You're joking, Frank
challenged him. Jason bent over and took the tip of his own cock into his
mouth. Then stood upright with a short-lived cheeky grin.  OK kiddo, give
me some time. We'll make a plan.

Patrick was forced to re-assess his brother yet again. Why is he such a
vile cunt and yet able to pave the way for his greatest happiness? The
phone rang repeatedly while they were barricaded in the college room - he
never answered it.

Jason was lying half on the floor with his knees folded over the back of a
desk chair, his cock pointing straight down into his face. Patrick, do you
know how often we ever talked about girls? About dating, about sex, liking
someone, lusting after someone, did we mention cocks or hard-ons or jerking
off or wet dreams once? In all the years we've known each other, we never
talked about this shit. I wanted to at every turn, but at every turn you
had some scholastic matter to discuss, or another episode of your My
Superdad fantasy, or the next computer game or mobile phone gizmo or chess
move you'd discovered somewhere. Patrick, please don't think I'm
complaining. When you're in love, you put up with so much. Do you mind if I
come again? Frank was still upside down with his cock poking longingly at
his mouth.

If you think you can, let me see it, Patrick said with a tinge of jealousy.
I might need some help.

Patrick knelt on the floor on the other side of the desk chair and wrapped
Jason's ankles behind his neck. He leaned in and sent his tongue straight
in to tickle Jason's sphincter. Jason's fingers wrenched his buttocks apart
as Patrick's tongue went further in. Patrick didn't even know rimming
existed two weeks ago, and now he's a hardened addict. And his long thin
tongue could fuck Jason's welcoming arsehole as fine as any vegetable that
had been inserted there over the last few years. Patrick was slurping in
and out and in and out, savouring the taste of Jason's arse. He sniffed the
atmosphere while Jason kept stretching his buttocks apart. This went on for
a good 15 minutes, when Jason announced Not long now. Of course, Patrick
was both disappointed and overjoyed as Jason spewed all over his own face
without having touched himself once. After they got their breaths back,
Jason unwound himself from the deskchair, knelt up and let Patrick's long
thin tongue clean the semen of his face. They could then kiss it away
forever.

A few weeks later and our young lovers had spent very little time
apart. Patrick had asked Superdad if Jason could stay here for a while
because his parents were broke. And going through another bender
period. Their mobile home was revolting. Who could say no to a request like
that? They moved an old divan up from the garage into Patrick's room for
him. It didn't get any use, of course. Patrick never wanted to sleep alone
again. In fact, he never really wanted to sleep again. They would lie awake
night after night kissing and kissing, long after Jason had withdrawn from
Patrick's sticky arse, long after Jason had rimmed him, long after their
bodies were covered in several coatings of come.

Frank was happy for them. He was so happy that he asked if he could video
them. Patrick hated the idea but Jason was very curious. OK, let's try it
just this once. Frank set up the equipment and when they were ready, he
pressed start. OK, you can leave the room now, Patrick says.  No, that's
not the plan. The camera has to move with you. For which a third party is
needed. I volunteered, remember.  You arsehole. You never told me
that. Jason asks Patrick what he expected.  OK, whatever. But making love
in front of my brother is not quite what I had in mind.

Frank simply announces, rolling! Patrick is sitting up on his bed resting a
thick, hard-cover book on his raised legs. He turns a page and drops his
hand into his crotch as he reads. He squeezes for a while. He then takes
the pencil from behind his ear and makes some notes in the margin, then
pokes it inside his T-shirt and flicks his nipple with it. He licks the tip
of the pencil and sends it back to play with his nipples. He puts the book
down and grabs his crotch, presses the other hand into his taut abdomen,
but then castigates himself with a self-mocking tut tut, sits up and
continues reading. He is so engrossed in his reading that he doesn't notice
Jason come in. Jason waits but is not acknowledged so he slowly takes off
his T-shirt. No reaction. Frank is panning from one to the other. Pulling
wide angles. Jason slides his jeans off and is standing there in threadbare
underwear which Frank quickly pulls away from, focussing now on Patrick and
his reading. Jason is now naked and crawling along the bed and puts his
head into Patrick's crotch. Patrick doesn't flinch and keeps reading. Jason
takes his lover's cock out and plays with it for a while. Frank closes in
on them and then takes his own T-shirt off. He presses his hands into his
chest. And slides them down inside his jeans. He plays with himself for a
while and when he undoes the top button and zip, his erection pops straight
out thanks to this evening's decision to go commando. He runs his longish
fingers through his longish jet black pubes. He squeezes out some pre-cum
and massages it around his nipples.

This causes Patrick to look at the camera and smile. The brothers are both
aroused now, looking at each other. Jason takes Patrick in his mouth now,
but all the time Patrick is watching his brother's cock grow as he strokes
it. He has the happiest grin spreading across his face. Both brothers
have. Patrick winks at him and he walks between the camera and the boys,
and lets Patrick stroke him. With Jason still lying on his stomach sucking
on Patrick, Frank licks a finger and reaches down and slides around Jason's
arse. Jason kneels up to see what's going on. Holy fuck! He takes Patrick's
book and throws it on the floor and the three of them end up on the bed
kissing and sucking and screaming and rimming and biting and crying and
fucking.

The noise was enough to bring the house down. It was in fact enough to
bring father to the door. He could hardly believe his ears. He was trying
to work out how many voices he could hear. It suddenly dawned on him that
Jason's residency was less to do with family problems and more to do with
... He was incensed. How could Patrick be so dishonest? He threw the door
open demanding the whole story. The last thing he expected to find was his
elder son in the midst of the action. Fucking hell. Everyone froze. He
approached as one does an accident you don't want to see. The bodies
twisted and contorted, limbs entangled, cocks engorged, smells of gel and
sweat and arse - in the filming light it was an extraordinary vision. His
own cock started to peak out between the join of the terry towelling
dressing gown. As the adult here, he knew he had to take control. He
shouted. And had them standing to attention standing to attention. What the
fuck is going on here? Frank laughed, and Dad knew it wasn't the smartest
thing he could have said. But he still managed to wipe the smirk of Frank's
face. I've heard of brotherly love, but I thought it only happened in
monasteries. They all laughed at that. But Father was deadly serious. Look
at you. My glorious sons and lover boy here. You must have started all
this. Patrick puts his arm around Jason's waist and brings him closer and
was about to say something, but was silenced by a simple gesture. Look at
you. The most beautiful young men god ever created. Your mother's eyes,
both of you. Her hair, Patrick. My hair, Frank. Your cyclist bodies. The
fine down. And as for those things poking up at me like that, they are just
making a mockery of everything. At that moment, he let his dressing gown
fall to the floor so they could compare. Certain family resemblances could
be discerned.

Chips off the ole block, Jason ventured and spanked the love of his life's
bum. Patrick shrieked and Father took a threatening step forward but was
stopped in his tracks by a volley of come squirting out of his younger
son's engorged cock which coated his own cock. Frank's even more engorged
cock followed in sympathy, and he coated his father's abdomen with a thick
and viscous film of young spunk. They all froze. Nobody knew what to do
next. Time stood still till Jason crouched down and starting licking the
boys' come off their father. Patrick stepped forward and put one leg in
front of Jason and one behind, scissoring his shoulder in his crotch. His
cock poked into his boyfriend's cheek. Frank did exactly the same on the
other side. Both boys started chewing on their father's nipples while Jason
started to blow Father seriously. With their hands, they stroked Jason's
head and encouraged him in his labours. Their other hands headed for their
father's arse. They pulled his buttocks apart and Jason licked his fingers
before stretching underneath and sending a finger in. As they sensed his
impending orgasm, Jason took Patrick's cock into his mouth and sucked out
some of the remaining cum. He turned to Frank and did the same, before
returning to their father's overloaded cock. Everything the boys were doing
was ratchetted up a notch then another then another. Patrick balanced his
weight on his father and lifted one foot and sent his toes into his
boyfriend's crack. By the time it was due, father was screaming in pain. He
hadn't even known that his nipples were sensitive, let alone had both of
them licked, sucked, chewed and bitten at the same time. By his sons. Fuck
me dead. Jason released him from his mouth to let him come. When he did,
his head was thrown back, the boys still intent on his nipples and Jason
had three fingers sliding in and out of his arse. A terrifying torrent of
white treacle shot out of father's cock and spurted on the camera, bringing
the film to a sticky end.