Date: Sun, 22 Oct 2000 14:37:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: Brew Maxwell <brew_drinker23@yahoo.com>
Subject: Twin Spin, Part 2, Chapter 9

Disclaimer:
The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or
events is purely coincidental.  The story contains graphic descriptions of
sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material
must exit the story now.  The characters have unprotected sex, as
characters safely can in fiction.  Reality, obviously, is another matter
entirely.

This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its
readers.  It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without
the written permission of the author.

Other works by the author in the Nifty Archive include "Unusual Christmas"
and the series Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school; "First
Mate" and "Twin Spin" in gay/incest; The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in
gay/encounters; "My First Year with Kevin" in gay/high school; and "From
Slave to Houseboy" in gay/authoritarian.

This story is a continuation of "Twin Spin," and you might find that some
of the references make more sense if you've read the first part.

E-mail comments are always welcome.

Twin Spin, Part 2

Chapter 9

	Mike and I had a fabulous time the weekend of Labor Day.  The whole
family--Tom, the boys, Chuck, Calvin, Mike, and I--went to Hendersonville
for the Apple Festival on Saturday.  We went in separate vehicles, and
Kevin took Lou along with him.  Brian and Rudy went together in Brian's
car.  There was a pretty cool concert Saturday night, and everybody had a
really good time.
	The next day, Sunday, Brian and Rudy left for Duke in Durham.  It
wasn't all that far, but Brian planned to spend time with Rudy and wouldn't
be home until Tuesday night.  Kevin and Lou had plans on Sunday, but, on
Monday, everyone who was there went to the Finch, Incorporated picnic.  It
started at nine o'clock in the morning, and it lasted until well after
dark.  There was a softball tournament among the various departments, and
Kevin played for two different ones.  He was great, and he got six homers
that day.  They wanted to give him the MVP trophy, but Tom vetoed that.  I
don't think Kevin ever knew about it, but Tom knew that a regular employee
should have that honor, not his son.
	I put Mike on a plane to New Orleans early Tuesday afternoon.  Our
good-byes were laced with tears, but we knew we'd see one another again
very soon, maybe even as soon as the coming Friday.
	Brian came home somewhat depressed on Tuesday night, and the boys
went to school the next morning.  Kevin had gotten up at 4:30, as he had
been used to doing, and he swam, rode Misty, and even did a full battery of
chin-ups, pull-ups, and crunches before breakfast.  He went upstairs just
as Chuck was coming in to get them off to school.  I knew none of the first
morning back-to-school stuff first hand.  It all came to me from Kevin and
Chuck.  I slept until ten.
	"Well, I got them off," Chuck said, as he and I sat down to coffee
when I finally woke up.
	"How was Brian," I asked.
	"Nervous as a cat," Chuck said.  "Kevin had been up for hours, and
he was pumped up to the max.  He came downstairs in a tanktop, but I made
him go back and put on a tee shirt, at least.  He did as I said, of course,
but he rolled the sleeves up high enough so the bottom of his tattoo
showed.  It was also tight enough so you could see the outline of his
nipple ring through it."
	"I'll bet he looked hot," I said.
	"Oh, yeah.  He looked hot.  He looked like a punk, too.  I mean, he
did everything but roll up a pack of cigarettes in his tee shirt sleeve."
	I laughed.  "How was Brian dressed?"
	"Khakis, a button-up sport shirt with a button-down collar, and
deck shoes.  Your perfect preppy.  Brian asked me to call dermatologists
today to see if any of them knew how to get his tattoo removed.  I think
the kids he met at Duke must have made an impression on him."
	"Don't you think that's a natural progression in the distancing
between them that has been going on all summer," I asked Chuck.
	"Of course, I do.  I've already made a list of dermatologists to
call."  We both laughed.
	"So tell me about you and Mike.  Did y'all have a nice weekend
together," Chuck asked.
	"Oh, it was great.  Do you know that he's moving here," I asked.
	"Well, I sort of picked that up," Chuck said.  "I know he did some
apartment hunting on Friday."
	"Yeah.  He found a really nice place, too.  He rented it."
	"Good.  When's he moving," Chuck asked.
	"Probably on October 5th," I said.
	"Are you guys in love," Chuck asked.
	"I think so, Chuck.  We haven't made any commitments, but, yeah, I
think we are."
	"Well, if you boys are as happy together as Calvin and I have been,
I salute you.  And I thank God you've found somebody, John.  You're a very
good man, and so is Mike.  You deserve one another."
	"Thank you, Chuck.  I really appreciate that," I said.

	Mike was able to get away from his practice to be with us for
Kevin's first football game.  Kevin played very well, and Asheville High
won.  All of us, including Lou, celebrated after the game at home.  Chuck
made some righteous food for us, and Kevin ate it like a horse.  Around
midnight, Kevin and Lou went down to the barn for him to put Misty to bed.
When he came in, he was alone.
	"Where's Lou," Tom asked.
	"She went home, Dad."
	"You really like her, don't you, son," Tom asked.
	"Yes, sir.  I really do."
	"Well, she's a wonderful girl.  The people at the office tell me
she's a real credit to the corporation," Tom said.
	"How does she feel being around so many gay guys," Mike asked.
	"She's cool with that," Kevin said.  "Besides, nobody would ever
suspect that any of you guys are gay."
	"Have you proved to her that you're not gay, Kevin," Tom asked.
	"Yes, sir.  On many occasions."  We all laughed.

	Mike moved to Asheville the first week of October.  He didn't
really own any furniture that was worth moving from New Orleans, so he
didn't have to rent a truck or hire a mover.  In fact, he shipped all of
his books and a lot of his clothes, and they were in his apartment when he
arrived.  I had flown to New Orleans to help him pack and to drive to
Asheville with him to make the trip easier.  When we got to his apartment,
he remarked that he figured he'd be camping out on the floor until he could
buy some furniture.
	"Stay with me, Mike.  Tom won't mind," I said.
	"I was hoping you'd offer," Mike said.
	"Why didn't you just ask," I replied.
	"I don't know.  I'm still a little shy with you, you know?"
	"You're damn sure not shy in bed," I said.
	He grinned.  "Oh, just wait until I *really* get to know you."
	"Wow, that's something to look forward to," I said.  I took him
into my arms just then and kissed him.  He responded passionately, and we
were both hard inside of a minute.  We undressed one another hurriedly, and
I'm sure it must have looked pretty awkward to anyone who might have been
watching.  Once we were naked, we hugged one another standing up.  Mike had
a light coating of hair on his chest and stomach, and it felt good rubbing
against my smooth skin.  Our hard cocks rubbed one another as we sort of
swayed back and forth.
	Mike got on his knees and took my cock into his mouth.  My dick was
hardly a horse-choker, and he was able to get most of it in his mouth.  I
let him suck me in that position for a time.  His tongue knew all the most
sensitive places, and he came very close to making me come.  I prevented
that from happening, though, by getting down on the floor with him.  I
gently moved us both into the sixty-nine position on our sides, and I went
to work on him as he resumed work on me.
	I'd always liked to suck cock and to have my own sucked by somebody
else, but the sixty-nine position wasn't my favorite.  I wanted to
concentrate on what I was doing to a guy, and having so much sensation on
my own penis was distracting.
	"Let me take over, Mike," I said.  I got down between his knees and
sucked him that way.  I wanted to rim his ass, too, and that put me in a
good position to do that.  Mike responded audibly when my tongue made its
first swipe on his anus, and he moaned even more when I continued working
it.  I eventually wet a finger with saliva and stuck that in him.
	"How does this feel, Mike," I asked.  "I'm on your spot, aren't I?"
	"Oh, yeah.  You're right on it, and it feels terrific.  I want your
cock there next," he said.
	It was only at that moment I thought of lube.
	"Is there any lube handy," I asked.
	"It's packed away in my toilet kit right over there.  Can you reach
it?"
	I abandoned what I was doing for a few seconds to get the toilet
kit.  I got a tube of KY out of it and spread some on Mike's hole.  Then I
inserted two fingers into him to shove it into his rectum.  I greased up my
cock with the stuff, too.
	"Are you ready, Babe," I asked him.
	"Oh, yes.  Very," he said.
	Slowly, gently, tenderly I gave him my manhood.  I thought calling
my penis my manhood was cliché and not entirely accurate in that
situation.  I really meant I gave him my personhood.  I gave him me, and he
accepted me with ease and grace.  After a few moments of adjustment, I
started thrusting into him.  He returned my thrusts with counter-thrusts of
his own, and we became a rhythmic love machine.  He took me, and I gave
myself to him.  I thought about some of the "fucks" I had had in my life
where I didn't even know the person's name, and that experience was so far
removed from those encounters that it should have been a different dick I
was using.  I wanted to give him maximum pleasure, and I sensed he wanted
the same for me.
	I was in control, and I made our orgasms build slowly and deeply.
I brought us to the brink several times, and then I eased off, stopping,
until we had ourselves under control.  I had recently come across an
on-line community called "Masturbation and Throb," which was about bringing
yourself close to climax and then letting your dick throb for a few
seconds.  I hadn't tried it, but I imagined that it was like what Mike and
I were doing anally.  Fuck and throb.  Fuck and throb.  Finally, of course,
we reached the point of inevitability, and we both came.  For me, it was
incredibly powerful, and, if the volume of his semen was an indication, it
was very powerful for him, too.
	"Goddamn," he said.  "Where'd you learn how to do that," he asked.
	"What?  Fuck?  It's kind of an instinct, I think," I said.
	"It's an instinct to fuck, but it's an art to fuck like you just
did.  Damn."
	"So I take it it was good for you," I said.
	"No, it wasn't just good.  It was fabulous."
	"Thanks, Mike," I said.
	"No, thank you, John."
	We lay on the hard floor for a while, snuggling and kissing and
nipping at one another.  Then he said,
	"Are you comfortable?"
	"With you?  Hell, yeah."
	"No, I meant on this floor."
	"Hell, no," I said, and he laughed.
	"So why are we still here," he asked.
	"Because you don't even own a fucking bed, that's why," I said.
	He laughed.
	"Yeah, but as good as it was, I'm getting up.  You want to join
me?"
	It ran through my head to make a pun on "I'm getting up" and to
start the Dozens with him, but I didn't pursue it.
	"I guess an older man like you needs creature comforts more than I
do."
	He laughed.
	"How old are you, anyway, Mike?  I've never known," I said.
	"How old do you think I am," he asked.
	"I don't know.  Twenty-nine, thirty?  Somewhere in there," I said.
	"I'm twenty-nine.  How old are you?"
	"I'm twenty-three.  I turned twenty-three in April," I said.
	"Does the difference in our ages bother you," he asked.  He asked
that with a serious tone of voice, so I knew it was something he had on his
mind.
	"What do you think," I asked.
	"I think it doesn't," he said.
	"And you'd be one hundred percent right," I said.  "When is your
birthday," I asked.
	"In May," he said.
	"Well, we're only six years apart, and you still look like a
fucking kid."
	"Gee, thanks, John.  I'm sure that inspires confidence in my
patients," he said.
	"God, I hadn't thought about that.  I guess people don't want kids
fooling around with their glands."
	"You didn't seem to mind me fooling around with your glans," he
said.
	"Is a glans a gland," I asked.
	"No, but it should count for something," he said.
	"Are we playing the Dozens," I asked, "because if we are, I'm up
for it, dude."
	He laughed.  "I guess that game does depend a lot on puns, doesn't
it?"
	"Oh, yeah.  A whole lot.  And I'm good with puns in three
languages," I said.
	"Well, let's just stick to English, and no, let's don't play the
Dozens," he said.
	"That's fine with me, although it has kind of become second nature
to me over the last few months," I said.
	"I'm sure.  But why don't we go get something to eat, maybe see a
movie, and then go back to your place for the night?"
	"You're on Mike.  You're great.  Do you know that?"
	"No, but I know you are," he said.  Then, "Gotcha last."

	Mike settled into his new practice easily.  He discovered that the
University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill had a medical school that was
deeply involved in endocrinological research, so he hooked up with them.
There were just as many sick glands in West Carolina as there were in New
Orleans, proportionately, at least, so he was happy in his job.
	Brian had his tattoo removed by a local dermatologist who had
studied under the guy in New Orleans who had invented the whole thing.  His
arm wasn't even sore after the half-hour procedure.  He flew to Durham on
lots of weekends to see Rudy, and Rudy came to our house one weekend.  I
didn't know whether he saw his parents or not on that visit.
	Kevin was doing spectacularly well on the football field and in his
social life.  He and Lou called it quits at the end of September, both
citing a lack of common interests as the reason for the break-up.  They
stayed friends for a while, but the difference in their ages made their
mutual social life pretty difficult.  Lou got a serious promotion about two
weeks after their parting.  Kevin sent her flowers and an expensive bottle
of perfume to congratulate her.  I happened to pick up the phone while they
were talking when she called to say thanks.
	"Kevin, that was so sweet of you to do that," Lou said.
	"Aw, shit.  No it wasn't," he said.
	"Oh, it was," she said.
	"Lou, you're still one of my best friends," he said.  "Even if
things didn't work out between us.  I still love you, just not in that
way."
	"God, I wish you were six or seven years older," she said.
	"I wish the same.  We could have made it, I think," Kevin said.
	"Oh, I know we could have.  Maybe."
	"Why the 'maybe,' Baby," he said.
	She laughed.  "Are we playing that stupid-ass game again," she
asked.
	"Shit, I'm sorry.  I was revving up for it, but I did it without
thinking," he said.
	"Kevin, you are the nicest boy I've ever known, but I need a man,"
she said.
	"I know.  I know.  We've been all through this.  But some of it was
good, wasn't it?"
	"Oh, it was all good, Kevin.  Please don't ever think it wasn't.
You're cute, you're gorgeous, you're smart, you're funny, and you're rich.
And you're a fucking tiger in bed."
	He laughed.
	"I mean it, Kevin.  You are all of those things, especially the
last one."
	"You're going to give me a hard-on, Lou, saying that shit."
	"It wouldn't be the first one, now would it," she said coyly.
	"Come on, Lou.  Cut it out.  You're embarrassing me," he said.
	"Yeah, right.  Anyway, Kevin, I'll never forget you.  I hope you
know that."
	"Even when I'm CEO of Finch," he asked.  I could almost hear the
grin on his face.
	"You asshole."
	He laughed hard on that one.
	"I love you, friend," he said.
	"And I love you, friend.  Thanks, again.  I gotta run.  Corporate
shit, you know," she said.
	"Make me some money, Lou.  And make some for yourself, too.  I love
you."  Kevin evidently hung up the phone, and I did, too.
	I went down to his room.
	"You heard, didn't you," he asked me as I walked in.
	"You are so fucking fantastic, Kevin," I said.
	"Bullshit," he replied.
	"Oh, but you are, man.  You handled that so well.  She's a great
woman, too."
	"Yeah, I've picked that up," he said.  "But she's right.  She needs
a man in the corporate world, not a high school football player, even if he
is a fucking tiger in bed."
	I was wondering how long it would take for him to get that line in.
I laughed hard at it, and he laughed, too.
	"It was great while it lasted, but I damn sure had no intention of
spending the rest of my life with her.  Hell, I see girls at school every
day that I want to fuck, and Lou wouldn't tolerate that."
	"Have you been with anybody else since you started dating her," I
asked.
	"Just Brian.  One time.  The night Dad came home.  That's it.
Well, a couple of girls since we broke up, but nothing serious.  Nothing
memorable, either."
	"You're a horn dog, you know that," I asked.
	"Yeah, and you should talk, stud boi," he said.
	I grabbed him and got him in a headlock.  I rubbed his hair and
then set my knee to his ass.  He grabbed me around the waist, and we
wrestled on the floor of his room until we were both out of breath.  Kevin
was incredibly strong.
	"Let me buy you a drink," he said.
	"You're on," I said.
	Tom and Brian were both out, Mike was at his newly-furnished
apartment studying for his Board exam, so that left Kevin and me on our
own.  It was a Wednesday night.
	"Brian told me he's going to apply to Duke so he can be with Rudy
next year," Kevin said, starting the conversation.
	"What about you," I asked.
	"I like Rudy, and all, but I don't really want to be with him the
way Brian does," he said with an absolutely straight face.
	"No, I meant for college," I said.
	"Gotcha last.  That was a real quickie.  But then, you're the
master of the quickie, or so Mike says."
	"I ought to throw this drink right in your face," I said.
	"Throw it down my throat.  It's not nice to waste liquor," he said.
	"Goddamn it, Kevin, can't you ever be serious," I asked.
	He got a really introspective look on his face.  I thought maybe I
had made a break-through.
	"You know," he said with great intensity, "apparently not."
	"You asshole," I said.
	"Oh, wow, what a fabulous come-back.  'You asshole.'  God, I wish I
had thought of that one.  That's a real zinger."
	"Shut up."
	"Yes, sir."  He lit a cigarette.
	"Seriously, Kevin, where do you want to go to college," I asked.
	He stood up and tried to contort his body into UNCA the same way
people did to the song "YMCA" by the Village People.  Well, I totally lost
it and laughed my ass off.
	"You may speak," I said, when I finally could.  I knew he could
keep that stuff up all night, and I really did want to talk to him.
	"Thank you, Master," he said.
	"You are most welcome, Slave.  Why do you want to go there," I
asked.
	"Cause I want to live here, man.  Why do you think?"
	"But you could get accepted at Duke," I said.
	"Look, Dad's going to have to donate a building to get Brian
accepted.  I think two buildings are a bit much, don't you?"
	"Bullshit.  You guys are smart, and you have some incredible study
habits.  What did Brian make on the SAT," I asked.
	"He made a 1560, which I think might be pretty good."
	"Jesus Christ, the highest you can make is a 1600.  Do you know how
many people make a 1560?"
	"No.  How many?"
	"Hell, I don't know," I said.
	"See.  Nobody really knows what it means.  It's like a mystery.
Nobody knows what a mystery means, either.  It's, like, a mystery, a
mystery is."
	"Please don't start that, Kevin.  I'm trying to have this grown up,
big-brother talk with you, and you start that shit.  That really pisses me
off, you know?  Here I'm trying to take an interest in your ignorant little
life, and you go off playing the Dozens on me.  I don't know why I care
about you."
	Kevin got really subdued when I said that.  He got huge tears in
his eyes.
	"J, I'm sorry, man.  I was just having fun."
	"I know you were, Kevin, but you're pissing me off, man."
	He started sobbing, and I felt like day-old shit.
	"Kevin, I'm sorry, man.  I was going to say 'gotcha last,' but I
never meant to hurt your feelings.  You know I'd never do that.  I love
you, Huck."
	"I know you do, Huck," he said.  "But I just have one thing to
say."
	"What's that, baby," I asked.
	"Gotcha last."  He started laughing, and I wanted to beat the shit
out of him.
	"Goddamn it, Kevin.  I'm tired of this shit, man.  I fucking care
about you, and you go and do something like that.  That makes me feel like
pure shit, man.  I am so fucking tired of this I could scream.  In fact,
I'm going to quit.  Shit, I don't need this kind of abuse from some fucking
eighteen-year-old kid.  That's it, man.  I've invested my emotions in you
and your brother, and that's the way you treat me?  Like the object of some
fucking game?  My letter of resignation, effective immediately, will be on
your father's desk in the morning.  I'm out of here, man.  Fuck you!"
	Kevin went to pieces.  He cried.  Oh, did he cry.  And he talked,
although I could barely understand what he said.
	"J, pwease dong go.  I sorrwy, man." Gasp.  "I am shit, J.  Please
dong go."
	"Gotcha last, Kevin, for the last fucking time.  You hurt my
feelings, man, and I'm dead serious.  This is not the fucking Dozens, okay?
This is me, and this is you.  I'm not leaving, but I wanted you to know
what it feels like to have your emotions manipulated like you did.  You
feel bad right now, don't you, Kevin?  I know you do, man, but you made me
feel bad, too.  You can't keep doing that to people, Kevin, making them
feel like shit and then saying 'gotcha last.'"
	Kevin cried some more.  When he finally got himself together, he
said,
	"John, thank you.  You made me realize the difference between being
a kid and a man."  Deep sigh.  "I've done that shit to you, and to Brian,
and to Chuck, and I'm sorry.  If you'll accept my hand, I promise I'll
never consciously hurt your feelings again.  You know, I'm so used to it
with Brian, but I always knew he knew I was playing the Dozens with him.
It's that twin spin you talk about.  It's real, man, and I forget other
people don't have it with me.  Chuck almost does, but not quite all the
time.  It's a curse, man.  It's a fucking curse.  Being an identical twin
is a fucking curse."
	I accepted his hand and we shook.
	"I love you and Brian, as I think you know, Kevin, and I only care
about your best interests.  I think you're a man of character, and I trust
you."
	"What I was going to say, John, is don't fucking trust me.  I don't
fucking trust myself.  If I ever, and I mean ever, break this promise, I
want you to promise you'll beat the shit out of me.  Will you do that?"
	"Are we going into the Dozens here, man?"
	"No.  No.  No.  I'm serious.  I've played the Dozens since I was
old enough to talk, and I think the game has given me a sharpness and an
edge that other guys don't have.  But I'm dead serious with you, John.
It's gone too far.  I've hurt you, and I want to stop it.  I will never
hurt you again, J.  I've never hurt Brian because he always knew, and Chuck
almost always knew, because of the twin spin.  But I've never hurt Chuck.
It will never happen again."
	He was quiet for a long time.
	"Do you want another drink," he asked me, after a while.
	"Yeah, but let me get them.  I assume you want one."  He nodded.
	I brought the drinks back.
	"So, can we talk about you and college," I asked.
	"Yeah, let's."
	"What were your SAT scores," I asked him.
	"The same as Brian's.  And we're both National Merit
Semi-finalists," he said.
	"Really?  You guys never told me that."
	"We're just semi-finalists at this point, J.  But my counselor told
me that she's sure I'll be a finalist and that Brian will be, too.  He'll
get into Duke, if that's where he wants to go, and I probably would, too.
But I really don't want to leave home right now."
	"Why not?"
	"Shit, a million reasons.  For one thing, Brian needs his space,
and I need mine.  For another thing, I really love Misty.  She's just about
the best thing in my life right now."
	"Kevin, do you really mean that," I asked.  All of a sudden the
enormity of everything that had happened to that gorgeous boy in the last
five months struck me.
	He didn't respond.  There was a long silence, and I could tell he
was thinking, evaluating his life.
	"What about the family," I asked.
	Again, no response.
	"What about school and football and all of your friends," I asked,
desperate for it not to be true.
	Again, nothing.
	"Kevin, please say something.  You're scaring me, man."
	"Oh, don't worry about me, J.  I don't even have transitory
depression anymore, or so Milton says.  I'm not in danger of doing
something stupid or anything like that.  But it's true, man.  I mean I love
you guys more than I can say, and I love football and school and my
friends.  I love Lou, but that's over.  But the only demand that Misty
makes of me is that I love her, and she returns that love unconditionally.
When I'm riding her, especially bareass, it's like we're making love.  I'm
not some kinky pervert.  That's just the way it is."
	"Have you talked with Dr. Spaulding about these feelings," I asked.
	He nodded his head slowly.
	"What does he say?"
	"Very little, really.  I just mostly talk.  Now and then he asks a
question, but that's about it.  I asked him about that one day, and he said
he was of the school of thought that I was intelligent enough to solve my
problems myself if I would just face them.  It was in his office that I
realized that Lou and I were wrong for one another at this time in our
lives.  I left there that day as light as a cloud.  It was something I knew
deep down inside, but talking to him about it made it come to the surface.
Only then could I accept it."
	"Do you ever talk about you and Brian," I asked.
	"What do you think," he asked.
	"You're right.  That was a dumb question.  Any progress there," I
asked.
	"Oh, tons of progress there.  That was just about all I talked
about for the first month or more.  I still talk about it a lot.  By the
way, J, I don't know whose idea it was for me to see him, but I'm so happy
y'all set it up.  That man has helped me be happy again.  I'm not all the
way there yet, but the difference between now and that trip is fucking
incredible.  I was just about in despair, man."
	He was quiet.  He lit another cigarette, and I joined him.  His use
of "despair" frightened me, and I had to know what he had been thinking.
	"Kevin," I said softly.
	He looked at me.
	"During that time, did you ever think about killing yourself?"
	There was a very long pause.
	"Yes," he said very softly.  His face was completely
expressionless.
	I didn't have a clue as to what to say, so I acted on instinct.
	"I'm glad you didn't," I said.
	"Me, too," he said.  He grinned at me, and my heart leaped with
joy.  "Back to where this started, I don't think I can leave Dr. Spaulding,
either," he said.  "I know there are probably doctors like him in Durham or
wherever I would go, but he knows me so well now, and I'm not finished with
him by a long shot.  He first thought it would just take a few weeks, but
he's now saying that he sees layers of complexity he never dreamed were
there when we first started.  I see them, too, John.  I just can't leave
Asheville."
	I looked at my watch, and I suddenly realized it was after
midnight.
	"Shit, Kevin.  It's almost 12:30.  I wonder where Brian is."
	"He's in Durham," Kevin said.
	"Durham?  On a school night?  No way."
	"We don't have school tomorrow or Friday.  The teachers have
workshops or something.  We're off until Monday.  Do you think I'd be up
this late if we had school in the morning?"
	I was sure I had known that at some time, or at some level of
consciousness, but it made it easier for us to continue.  Mike's entering
my life had sort of shifted my focus away from the family slightly, and the
holidays were just the kind of thing I would have forgotten all about.
	"Do you have a game Friday night," I asked.
	"Nope.  Nobody in the state does.  Tomorrow and Friday are holidays
for the whole state.  There aren't any football games in all of North
Carolina this week."
	"Oh," I said.  I had the next two days off, too, which the
university called Fall Break.  It suddenly occurred to me that the
professors had to be free on those days to give workshops for the teachers.
Duh, I thought.
	"We've talked about this before, you know.  I guess having Mike-man
around has you a little bit distracted."  He laughed.  He grabbed my empty
glass and got up to get us another drink.  He came back with a can of
cashew nuts, a hunk of cheese, and some crackers.  "I'm kind of hungry, and
I'll bet you are, too."
	He dove into the eats.
	"So what's up with you and Mike-man," he asked.
	"We're doing very well."
	"Are you in love with him," he asked.
	"Don't you think that's kind of a personal question, Kevin?"
	"Of course it is.  Are you?"
	I laughed at his smooth audacity.  "Yeah, I think I am," I said.
	"Good for you, man.  Is he in love with you?"
	"Yeah."
	"Fucking shit, dude!  You go, man.  That is so fucking great!  I'm
so happy for you guys."  He was laughing and carrying on, and I wanted to
grab him and hug him.
	"Couldn't you tell, Kevin," I asked when he finally settled down.
	"Well, I really haven't seen all that much of you guys together.
I've been out a lot.  You've been out a lot.  Mike hasn't been here all
that much.  I suspected it, but I didn't know for sure."
	"Well, we are.  We think we might even be good for the long haul,"
I said.
	"Oh, man.  Like getting married and all?"
	"Well, you know we can't legally get married, but maybe an intimate
commitment ceremony with just the family and a few friends.  Yeah."
	"Goddamn, John.  I'm so fucking happy for you."  He leaned over and
kissed me chastely on the lips.
	"We want to live together for at least a year before we decide for
sure, though."
	"So, move in with him.  Y'all couldn't really 'live together' here.
There are too many people.  When are you moving in?"
	"The day after you and Brian graduate," I said.
	"Why wait so long," he asked.
	"Well, I have a contract, for one thing.  I contracted to live with
you and Brian until you graduated from high school, and I take that very
seriously."
	"Oh, shit.  Dad would let you out of that, man."
	"I know.  I've already talked to him, but I just need to fulfill my
end of the bargain.  Your father has been very good to me, Kevin, and I owe
him that."
	"I don't think you do, but that's your decision," he said.
	"Do you know he paid off all my college loans for me, Kevin?"
	"Naw.  He doesn't tell me shit.  But that seems like the least he
could do," Kevin said.
	"Well, he does pay me a salary, you know.  And he gives me free
room and board, plus an open-ended expense account."
	"Yeah, but I could talk him into doing that even if you didn't live
here.  You're our fucking brother, man.  You're a Finch.  A Prescott Finch,
which is the rarest kind."
	"Why would he do that," I asked.
	"Because Brian and I would insist, that's why.  Our dad is putty in
our hands, J.  Haven't you figured that out?"
	I laughed because I had, indeed, figured that out.
	"And Mike needs undistracted time to study for his national
boards."
	"I thought he took those in December," Kevin said.
	"He takes Part One in December and Part Two in May."
	"Shit, that test must be pretty fucking hard," he said.
	"Yeah, I think it is.  Mike thinks it is, too.  He's a really smart
guy."
	"I know, he's a hell of a lot smarter..."
	"What?"
	"Nothing.  I know he's smart."
	"You were going into the Dozens, weren't you."
	"Yes," he said, and he hung his head.
	"You can still tease me, Kevin, and we can still play the Dozens,
man.  I over-reacted a little while ago."
	"No, you didn't, John.  I was insensitive, and I hurt your
feelings. I told you I wouldn't do that any more, and I meant it.  I just
won't."
	We finished our drinks in silence.  It wasn't an uncomfortable
silence, but it was silence, nevertheless.  Kevin and I each had another
cigarette.  When our glasses were drained, he picked up all the stuff and
took it to the kitchen.  He called out good night to me from in there and
went up the back stairs to his room.
	I sat in the den for a while.  In fact, I made myself another drink
and thought about everything that had transpired that evening.
	I had always had a real soft spot in my heart for Kevin, and his
reaction that night touched that spot.  He was such a wonderful boy, and I
knew that he had been hurt very deeply by everything that had happened
since I had come to work for his dad.  I genuinely loved both of those
boys, and Kevin's anguish caused me anguish.  I didn't know what to do or
what to say, but I knew Kevin, at least, needed me.