Date: Sun, 17 Sep 2000 20:21:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: Brew Maxwell <brew_drinker23@yahoo.com>
Subject: My First Year with Kevin, Chapter 19

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.  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 its author.

My other works in the Nifty Archive include Unusual Christmas and 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, and From
Slave to Houseboy in gay/authoritarian.

E-mail comments are always welcome.


My First Year With Kevin

Chapter 19

	We didn't have school the rest of the week.  We didn't get much of
a Spring Break because of that, but we definitely needed the rest of the
week to recover.  I didn't wake up until noon on Ash Wednesday, but Kevin
was already up when I stirred.  I took a shower, one of the best of my
life, and dressed in jeans and a tee shirt.  It was late February, and it
was already well into spring.
	I found Kevin in the den, with the TV set on local "News at Noon."
	"Hey, Babe," he said when I walked into the room.  "How're you
feeling?"
	"Hey."  I kissed him chastely on the lips.  "I feel good.  Did I
pass out last night, or something."
	"Nah, man.  You just went to sleep on the way home.  Wu had a busy
day, wu did."  He was talking baby-talk, and he was about as cute at that
moment as he ever was.
	I wanted to say something witheringly funny, but all I could do was
laugh at him.
	"You are so fucking cute," I finally got out.  "Who could resist
you?"
	"Well, you obviously can't, that's for sure.  Are you aware you
have a hard-on."
	I knew I didn't, but that made me laugh more.
	"I know I don't, but do you wish I did?"
	"I always wish for wood," he said.  Then, "Come here to me."  He
pulled me to him.  "Did you have as good a time yesterday as I think you
did?"
	"Kevin, Babe, I had a fabulous time.  Thank you."
	He didn't say anything.  Instead, he raised my tee shirt back over
my head, and he went to work on my nipples.  I was pretty horny, anyway,
and that sent me over the edge.  He "dragged" me very willingly up the
stairs and made deep and serious love to me on his bed.  In an hour, both
of us were sexually drained, and we were ready to start the day.  It was,
by then, two o'clock.
	When we went back downstairs, Frank and Denis were at the kitchen
table drinking coffee.  Kevin poured cups for the two of us.
	"So, was it a successful Mardi Gras," Kevin asked them.
	"It was wonderful, fabulous, unbelievable-you know, the usual,"
Denis said.
	"Did you guys get laid?"
	"Kevin!"  That from Frank.
	Denis started laughing, and then Frank saw the humor in the
question, too.
	"Goddamn, Dad, that's not such a bizarre question," Kevin said.
"Did ya?"  His eyes lit up like neon signs on that last question.
	"Fuck you," Frank said.  Denis and I laughed.
	"Oh, Daddy.  Would you?  Please?  I'd do anything for a Smythe cock
up my ass."
	Frank laughed with us on that one.
	"This is not wholesome family breakfast-table conversation," Frank
said, pretending to be self-righteous.
	"I know, Daddy, it's pure white trash, and I love it," Kevin
responded.  "We're finally getting down to our roots.  I want to see this
trailer of ours a-rockin' and a-rollin'."
	Denis and I were roaring with laughter, and Frank was having a hard
time keeping up the charade of a serious talk.
	"Where the hell did you come from," Frank finally was able to say.
	"Right out of that big, fat, wonderful dick of yours, Daddy.  I
want to crawl back into it and just suck myself off."
	We all roared with laughter when he said that.  Kevin was really on
a roll then, and I was loving it.
	When we had settled down, Frank said, in all seriousness, "Can you
really do that?"
	"Do what?"
	"Suck yourself off?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Jesus Christ!"
	"What?"
	"Kevin, you are un-fucking-believable," Frank said.
	"I'll take that as a compliment," Kevin said.
	We drank coffee and smoked cigarettes in silence as each man read
his copy of the paper.
	"Excuse me, fell-ows, I must evacuate.  Back in a flash.  Or as a
flasher.  Or with a flush.  I don't know which."  With that, Kevin left the
room to go upstairs.
	"What the hell is he talking about," I asked.  I had never heard
him say that before.
	"That means he has to take a shit.  That goes way back to when his
mother was still alive," Frank said.  "He used to say stuff like 'I have to
take a shit,' or 'I need to piss' when he was ten years old.  We thought
that was inappropriate around adults, so we taught him to say nothing but
'excuse me.'  Well, in time he figured out that, medically, taking a shit
was called 'evacuating your bowels' and taking a piss was 'voiding your
bladder.'  So he started using those terms for a couple of years.  That
last jibe was aimed at me.  Denis probably has never heard him say that.
Have you?"
	"No, I haven't," Denis said, "but it's entirely consistent with the
mood he's in today."
	We all laughed.
	"Matt, was he telling the truth a few minutes ago?  Can he really
suck himself off?"  Frank seemed inordinately curious.
	"Yes, sir, he can.  I've only seen him do it a couple of time, but
he damn sure can."
	"Just the head of his cock, or what," Frank asked.
	"No, sir, almost the whole thing.  He's really flexible."
	"Good God," Frank said.  Denis laughed.
	"You're just jealous, Frankie, and you know it."  I had never heard
Denis call him "Frankie" before.
	"Could you ever do that," Frank asked Denis.
	"Would I be here if I could," Denis said.  Then, when he realized
what he had said, he looked at me with worry on his face.
	"Duh," I said.  "Would I?"
	They both laughed, and I did, too.  I imagined that Kevin had grown
up hearing that kind of banter between them, so I had a better insight into
his saying, months before, he had a better grip on his sexuality than I did
because he had grown up with two gay parents.  He was right.

	We spent the rest of that week lounging around, shopping, going to
movies, going out to eat with the dads, shooting some pool with Todd, doing
homework, and just kind of being an ordinary family of two gay men and
their sons who were lovers.  "Leave It to Beaver" kind of stuff.  You know?

	School started back with a vengeance.  We were in the last half of
our senior years of high school, and we were really eager to get beyond
that.  We had all the freedom we wanted or needed, but the idea of living
on our own away home was beginning to get both of us more and more excited.
	In March, the colleges started drafting their football players.
Kevin had been in touch with the FSU coaches on a more-or-less weekly
basis, and, a lot of the time, he hadn't let Frank or Denis know he had
gotten a letter.  It became increasingly apparent that they wanted him as a
red-shirt freshman.  He wasn't all that big, by college standards, even for
a quarterback, and they hoped he'd grow in his year as a red shirt.
Finally, signing week came, and Kevin didn't know what to do.
	"You remember our plan," I said.  We had both been accepted by
Florida State by then.
	"Yeah, but how do I tell them?"
	"You write a letter.  I'll help you."
	"I know *how*, asshole.  What do I say?"
	"You tell them like it is, dude.  Tell them you have applied to
Harvard and that you would really like to wait to say yes or no after you
get the letter from Harvard."
	"That's it?"
	"Yeah, basically.  I'm sure they don't get a lot of letters like
that.  I mean, it's rarely a choice between FSU football and Harvard for
most people.  You know what I mean?"
	Kevin wrote that letter, and he got a polite reply saying they
understood and would have to hear something from him by May first.

	Golf and baseball seasons had both started.  We both made the
first-string teams in our respective sports.  I had wanted to play tennis,
too, but golf and tennis were both spring sports, so I had to make a
choice.  Kevin and I discussed that at length, and we also discussed it
with Denis and Frank.  All three guys were unanimous that I should try out
for golf, and I made the team.  Kevin made the first string baseball team,
of course, and he did extremely well that season.  He was batting around
.400, and he was very impressive as a third baseman.  My golf game hovered
in the mid-eighties, and I was consistently better than any of my
opponents.
	April 15th came around before we knew it.  We were so distracted by
our sports, by school, and by our other activities that I don't think
either of us realized it was even approaching.
	When we got home from school that afternoon, Frank and Denis were
already home.  We didn't really think anything of that, but, when we walked
into the kitchen that afternoon, they were there, all a-grin.  They both
held out really thick envelopes.
	"Open them, boys," Frank said, as we walked in.
	Of course we did, and we had both been accepted at Harvard.  The
course of our next four years was set.
	Frank and Denis took us out for a big meal that night to celebrate
our acceptances.  They told everybody they saw that they knew about our
news, and, frankly, we were both a little embarrassed about how people made
over us.  We actually met a couple whose son was a Harvard junior, and they
said they just knew he'd be delighted to serve as our guide.  Yeah, sure, I
thought.  When I looked at Kevin, I knew he was thinking the same thing.
	Kevin was ferocious in bed that night, just as I knew he would be.
He was every bit the alpha male, and he made my ass sing.  I had figured he
would be extra-horny, and I got hard just from thinking about it on the way
home from the restaurant.  Frank and Denis had wanted us to have a drink
with them when we got home.  We had a short one, but Kevin wanted to go to
bed.  He was a very excitable boy, and the Harvard news had him very
excited.
	After we had sucked and fucked and kissed and rimmed and done all
the things we knew how to do, he held me tight.
	"Babe, I think this Harvard thing has made Frank and Denis very
happy, don't you?"
	"Yeah, I do, but I think it's made you pretty happy, too."
	He nuzzled me and kissed me gently on the lips.
	"I think you know me too fucking well."
	"You really didn't want to go to FSU, did you?"
	"No, and I didn't really want to play football at that level of
competition."
	"I knew that in my heart, Kevin.  Why didn't you say something?"
	"Because if we hadn't both gotten into Harvard, I would have done
it, that's why.  That was our ace in the hole and our reason for going
there."
	"*Our* reason for going there?"
	"I knew you'd go with me.  We had made that pact.  And I never want
us to be apart.  I'd have let those gorillas in the ACC beat up my ass if
it meant you'd be there with me."
	I was taken aback.
	"Does that mean you would have done anything for us to stay
together?  That's what that just sounded like, Kevin."
	"And that's what I meant, Babe.  Anything."
	He held me tightly, and I could feel his semi-erect penis pressing
into my back.  I was silent in the darkness of our room, and I thought
about what he had said and about its implications.  I started crying
gently.
	"What's the matter," he asked, deep concern in his voice.
	"You really love me, don't you?"
	"Have you ever had any doubt?"
	"Oh, Kevin, never.  I love you so much.  It's just that I didn't
realize how much you love me.  I'm embarrassed."
	"Why?"
	"Because I'm not sure I would have let ACC gorillas bust my ass
just so we could be together."
	He laughed and hugged me tighter.  I felt his hard cock slip into
my ass.
	"Shhhhh, Babe.  Go to sleep, now.  Your man has you, and he ain't
ever lettin' go."
	The next morning there was a small story in the paper about Kevin
being offered a place on the FSU team.
	"Goddamn it," he said loudly, as all four of us sat at the
breakfast table.  "Why the fuck didn't they write about me getting accepted
at Harvard?  About us getting accepted?"
	"Kevin, which section of the paper are your reading," Frank asked.
	"The sports section."
	"So, do they usually report academic achievement on the sports
page?"
	"No, sir, but..."
	"But what?  You made sports news, not academic news.  Go with it,
son, and chill the fuck out."
	Denis and I laughed.