Date: Fri, 23 Oct 2015 13:24:02 +0100
From: DS <niftyaccount27@yahoo.com>
Subject: New life with Denholm-Submission 2

Hello everyone, if you're reading this I'm guessing you liked the first
submission, so thanks for continuing to read. I will try to write as much
material as I can, however I have limited time to do so.

Please don't forget to donate to Nifty to ensure this wonderful site
remains open and free to use for people such as yourselves. Thanks again.

In the last chapter, Denholm had moved into the house with James and his
dad. He had spent his first night, and already had developed a friendship
with his new adopted brother.

As we reached the kitchen I noticed a note on the kitchen table. This was
usually the way my dad and I communicated, as both of us regularly visit
the kitchen to make tea or coffee etc. The note simply said that he'd gone
out to work and would be back at about five o'clock. He then went on to ask
if I could make breakfast and lunch for Denholm and make sure he was
settling in. This was fine with me, I was pretty good at cooking, having
made my own meals regularly since my mother left. I figured I would make
something that Denholm wanted, to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

"So, it looks like I'm making your food today. Anything in particular that
you fancy for breakfast sir?" I said with a strong British accent, my hand
behind my back, imitating a butler.
"So I've got a new brother and a new servant?" He said, a smile emerging
from his face. He carried on the act by responding in the same accent, "How
about pancakes?"
"Of course, Sir." I said, nearly ruining the act with a muttered laugh at
the end of my response.

So I began making his food while he sat on the raised breakfast table,
staring out of the window to his left. He noticed the swimming pool and
immediately his eyes lit up, exposing even more of those pure blue circles.
He then switched to a rather dejected look as he said, "I haven't got any
swimming shorts."
"Don't worry." I said, we can get some for you later when we go into town.
He looked relieved at this, and glanced back at me, pouring the mixture
into the frying pan.
As I waited for the mixture to heat up, I turned around and asked, "so what
are you into? Sports, games, anything like that?" Trying to start a real
conversation.
"I like football, but I don't play a lot." He responded.
"Do you support a team?" I asked, hoping for the next answer to be
Manchester United.
I couldn't have been more wrong, as he smiled and said, "Manchester City. I
saw your United posters on your wall though, wrong choice there." He said,
his smile turning into a brief chuckle.
I jokingly turned my nose up at him, and said, "looks like someone's not
getting breakfast now."
He laughed and then admitted, "I'm joking, of course I support United. I
went to a match once with my dad, but he ended up fighting with another man
so we had to leave early."

This didn't surprise me, given the brief knowledge of his dad, I didn't
think a fight in front of his son was beyond him.

I tried to change the subject from his dad and said, "Well, I suppose you
can have something to eat now. "

He smiled, then began to devour his pancakes as soon as I placed the plate
on the table. He finished within minutes, so I told him to go upstairs and
get ready to go out. He did so, as I picked up and ate a cold slice of
pizza that my dad had left in the refrigerator. I had forgotten to make
myself something to eat in the effort to please Denholm.

By the time we left the house, it was ten o'clock. You have to be seventeen
in England to drive, meaning me and Denholm would have to get the bus into
town. On the way to the bus stop, I showed him the village, the local park
and eventually his new school, which I also attended. He would be in year
9, I would be in 12 which is the first year of sixth form. He was one of
the older kids in his year, and I was actually one of the youngest.

Of course Denholm had no money, so I had to pay for his fare on the bus
into town. I didn't really care about this, I had my own share of my
grandmas inheritance which I had never really touched. I figured I would
treat him today, buy him some stuff if he wanted anything. We reached the
large shopping centre in the middle of town and I told him if he saw
anything then he just had to ask me and I would pay for it. Firstly we went
to this clothes shop, to find some swimming shorts for him. He immediately
found some he liked, along with some goggles that I suggested he should get.

As we left the shop, we bumped into one of my friends from school, Jack. I
say one of my friends, in truth he was my best friend. We'd known each
other since we were young.
"Alright James."
"Alright," I paused, I looked down at Denholm and said, "This is my friend,
Jack. You'll see him from time to time."
I then looked at Jack and gave him the 'I'll explain later' look, and said
"this is Denholm. He's living with me and my dad now, my new little
brother."
And with that comment, Denholm blushed and smiled, looking down at the
floor.
"Alright bud." Jack said, holding out his fist.
Denholm timidly touched Jack's knuckles then retreated again.
"Anyway, we'd better be off." I said, noticing Denholm feeling a little
uncomfortable.
"See you later mate." Jack said, as he walked off.

I asked Denholm if he was ok, and he nodded, then said, "it feels good when
you call me your brother,"
I ruffled his hair then we walked on back to the bus stop, although this
time we caught a different bus. Denholm looked at me with a confused
expression but stayed quiet.
When we got off the bus, we were directly outside of Old Trafford, the home
stadium of Manchester United. I looked at him and smiled, "you sure you're
a United fan?"
"Yeah?" He said, his expression remaining confused.
"Come on then." I said, walking towards the box office where you can buy
tickets.

I walked up to the lady at the counter, and asked for the form to fill out
for season tickets. "Could I have two please? one for my brother as well."
He looked up in disbelief, as I handed the woman roughly  £600 for the two
tickets.
I had to fill out the information, and weirdly I realised I didn't know
Denholm's surname.
Embarrassingly, I asked him, "Rogerson." He said, the lady looking at us
strangely, having just been told that we're brothers. She simply shrugged
and carried on.

As we left, for the third time in the space of two days, Denholm hugged me
tightly, not needing to say anything.
"You're welcome." I said, warmly smiling at him. "Come on, let's get back
home."
He nodded, as we began to walk together back to the bus stop.

We grabbed a sandwich from the local bakery on the way home for lunch, then
eventually got back to the house.

 I could tell what he would ask next, as we walked through the kitchen with
the shopping, past the window with the view of the pool.

He looked at me knowingly, and simply said, "well..?"
I nodded and told him to get changed, and without another word, he began to
strip off into his swimming shorts.
I didn't know what to do with myself at this point, as he took his shirt
off, then his shoes and socks and eventually his shorts. He seemed to stop
at this point, as he noticed me looking in his direction. I was trying not
to make it obvious, but apparently I failed to do so. I felt rather
embarrassed, looking away, but before I could start walking he said ,"it's
fine." as he pulled off his underwear, smiling at me.
I couldn't help but look. He wasn't sporting a boner like yesterday, but
his dick seemed to hang about an inch less in its softness. He was
uncircumcised, as was I, and I noticed a slight fuzz of hair above his
shaft. The rest was completely smooth. His balls were propping up his
member nicely, and hung at equal length. I'd rarely seen another guys
package before, but it's safe to say I enjoyed this one. The moment only
lasted so long, as he pulled on his new swimming shorts, still looking into
my eyes.
Embarrassed, I blinked several times and headed upstairs to get my own
swimming shorts. I needed a few minutes to let my own dick relax, with
images of Denholm still fresh in my mind.

After a few minutes, I returned downstairs to find him already soaking in
the pool outside.
I jumped in next to him, causing a huge splash, soaking his face and blonde
hair. We both laughed at this and began splashing each other, wrestling and
swimming away.
Suddenly he was submerged in the water and I genuinely had no idea where he
was. Until a few moments later I was pulled under from behind, with
Denholm's legs wrapped around my waist, his body pressed firmly against my
back. If I wasn't mistaken, I could feel something pushing against my lower
back- again Denholm had a boner, and he made no effort to hide it.
I wondered why he always seemed to bone up when around me, was this boy
actually attracted to me? It seemed strange to think such a thing, so I
immediately ignored the thought and again put it down to him being a horny
little shit all the time. I picked him up from behind by the underside of
his arms and threw him over my head, causing him to do a somersault. He
emerged and shouted, "that was fucking amazing."
I was bemused by this language having not heard him swear before, but
thought little of it. We both laughed and messed around for a few more
minutes before pulling ourselves out of the pool in exhaustion.

He was still pretty hard by the look of the tent in his shorts, and I soon
noticed that I was too. Mine was a little more obvious, just shy of seven
inches when in this state. He noticed this before I did and smiled, looking
down at me with a menacing grin. "Enjoy it that much?" He laughed.
I smiled back while blushing, covering myself up with a towel.
We then went back inside to dry off properly and get changed. He surprised
me again by stripping off his shorts at the door and running up the stairs
in front of me, giving me the complete pleasure of his naked behind. I
followed him, appreciating the beautiful bubbles bouncing before my eyes.

As I changed into some shorts and a shirt, I couldn't help but feel like
I'd achieved something with Denholm. Only yesterday he was too shy to even
get out of the car and meet my dad an I, and now he was perfectly happy to
show off his naked body to me. (Something I didn't particularly mind.) Even
I couldn't do that. It seems like all he needed was to feel like a part of
the family to be himself, and I was rather proud of myself for making that
happen. It did occur to me, however, that he was still nervous around other
people, like Jack today when they met. And I also thought of how he'd only
really seen my dad once, and didn't say a word to him. Come to think of it,
I was the only person that he'd really opened up to. This almost brought a
tear to my eye as I thought about it.

Nevertheless, it was about 4 o'clock, and my dad would be home in about an
hour. I knocked on Denholm's door and asked if he was ready. He said he was
so I went in, noticing his cases were still very much full.
"Why don't we unpack your clothes, that way you'll feel more at home?" I
said.
"Ughh, alright." He muttered.
So we began to neatly fold his clothes into the draws, hang some in the
wardrobe and put his shoes on the shoe rack on the back of his door. There
wasn't that much stuff in his cases in truth, it didn't look like his
parents had bought him much.
"Is this everything?" I asked, confused.
He then looked back at me, with a more serious look on his face. "I didn't
bring anything that my dad bought me. Everything here was from my mum."
I mentally kicked myself for bringing up this topic again, but simply said,
"looks like we're going to have to go shopping again."
He smiled appreciatively and said, "you don't have to buy me so much stuff,
I don't mind."
"Nonsense." I said, "I don't mind either."
In truth, I rather liked treating him, it made me feel good knowing he was
happy.

By the time we'd finished unpacking his clothes and putting his suitcases
up in the attic, it was nearly 5 o'clock, and I heard my dads car
approaching the house. He must have finished early, I thought.
Denholm again seemed uncomfortable at the thought of seeing my dad, and
looked up at me expectantly.
"I know my dad may seem distant, but he's a good man. You don't have to
worry about him. You know it was his idea to take you in?" I said
reassuringly.
This seemed to help slightly, although I think the image of a father to him
was somewhat different to the norm.

Seconds later, my dad entered, closing the heavy door behind him. We walked
downstairs to say hello. I didn't normally do this, but I wanted to try and
get Denholm and my dad to communicate in some way, a difficult task given
the stubbornness of the two.
"Alright lads," my dad said, raising his eyebrows. "How'd you two get on
today?"
And before I could answer and to my surprise, Denholm replied, "really
good, we went shopping and James bought me a season ticket for Man United
and some swimming shorts so we could go swimming."
My dad seemed as surprised as I did at this sudden outburst, and smiled,
"sounds good, although he should have got you a Manchester City season
ticket."
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that my dad was a City supporter, and has been
all his life.
Denholm shook his head and emulated the response I have him earlier,
jokingly turning his nose up at my dad.
We all laughed before my dad asked, "what do you two want for dinner then?"
"Ask the servant." Denholm smiled, giving me a knowing look.
"He's off duty." I said, reverting back to the British accent.
My dad smiled and rolled his eyes, he seemed happy that Denholm was talking
and joking around.
"How about I make a nice lasagne?" He said after a brief pause.
"Sounds good." I said, after seeing Denholm nod.
And with that, my dad disappeared to the kitchen, while Denholm followed me
to the second floor, where I kept my Xbox. We played FIFA for about an hour
until my dad called for us to eat. For the first time in years, my dad had
sat down to eat a meal with me. It felt nice, and it felt like a family
meal, with the pleasant addition of Denholm at the table.

When we'd finished, my dad offered to clean up after the meal, and then
suggested we all watch a film in the living room afterwards.
This sounded like a good idea, so Denholm and I went first to pick out a
few films to watch. We decided upon the hangover, Denholm hadn't seen it
and wanted to watch it, so we ended up watching both hangover 1 and 2.
Although there were three couches, my dad occupied one for himself and
Denholm chose to slot in next to me, resting his legs over my lap, causing
me to revel in the softness of his skin touching mine. It's safe to say I
was boned up throughout the two movies.

When the second movie finished, I stood up, covering my hardness and headed
upstairs with Denholm following me. My dad had fallen asleep by about nine
o'clock, so I placed a blanket over him and turned the light off.
I suggested that we should get to bed soon, both of us tired from watching
the movies and from our earlier swim. He agreed, then hesitantly asked, "do
you mind if I sleep in your bed tonight? It gets a bit cold in the other
room."
"Yeah sure, that's fine with me." I said with an exhausted smile. Although
I'm sure he made that last part up, as the spare room was always hot,
especially at this time of year.

"I normally just sleep in my underwear though, is that ok?" I asked.
"Fine by me, I do the same." He said with a grin.

So I climbed into bed first, moving slightly left to make room for him. I
had a king sized bed, and there was more than enough room for the both of
us. He pulled down his shorts and took of his shirt and climbed in after
me. Again I couldn't help but notice his hard dick shoved to the left of
his underwear. This was becoming more than a coincidence. He then shuffled
in close to me, pressing his back against my torso, and subsequently his
behind against my dick, which soon reacted to the sudden feeling of his
cheeks against it. I moved back slightly, not wanting him to notice it, but
as I moved he turned and said, "what are you doing? It feels good."
This pretty much confirmed my suspicions, and I was both excited and
concerned at what was happening.
"I've seen you looking, and I thought you would have guessed by now that I
feel the same way.."
"I..." I was lost for words. Was he actually trying to tell me he knew I
liked him in such a way, and that he felt the same for me?
I rolled on to my back and said, "look, Denholm, it can't be like this with
us. I'm older than you are, and people wouldn't understand if anything were
to happen between us."
He paused for a moment, then said, "what if people didn't know?" He then
continued, "I like you James, and being with you makes me feel like I'm
wanted, and I've never felt like this before. I know you feel the same way,
and I know there's a few years between us but it's not like you're taking
advantage of me. I want this just as much as you do, if not more."
I was still relatively lost for words. But with this silence, Denholm
rolled me back over to face him, and delicately kissed me.
"Our secret." He whispered, as he turned his body the other way, pulling my
arm over his body and holding it against the smooth skin on his chest.
Again his bottom pressed firmly into my dick, which remained hard
throughout the conversation. "Goodnight James." He whispered.
"Goodnight." I followed with.

I stayed awake for hours, partly enjoying the feeling of Denholm's body
being so close to mine, and partly thinking about the consequences of what
could happen if this continued. The more I thought of it, the more I
realised that this is what he wanted, and what I wanted.
After hours of contemplating, I fell asleep with my head centimetres away
from Denholm's, wondering about what was to follow.