Anthology

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional.

ANTHOLOGY

You are travelling into an alternate dimension. Do not adjust your connection to reality. Here we find a universe of infinitive possibilities, of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. Welcome to the Anthology...

Anthology (V) – Seasons Meetings (part one)

Steve and Hugh are not exactly friends. Steve is cool and popular and sees the hearts on people's sleeves while Hugh is odd and struggles to feel his own emotions, never mind recognise the feelings of others. Sometimes, Hugh just wants to disappear. They are both lonely and keep secrets. However, as Christmas approaches, the unlikely pair are about to discover they are not alone and never have been...

DRIVING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Hugh sat up straight – headphones wrapped over his head and clamped over his ears. He stared ahead, sitting placidly and still, blinking rhythmically and smiling softly.

Steve sat beside him, the middle seat of the car creating a physical gap between them. Steve held his phone, the screen lighting up the darkness in the car. He fidgeted, shuffled and huffed.

STEVE: [So... it's been three days... I feel like a stalker... lol.]

STEVE: [Please reply to me, man. Fifteen messages! C'mon!]

Steve scowled at his phone and shoved it in his pocket. He looked across at Hugh who didn't react in any way. Hugh had the halo of a boy who was totally untroubled – like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Denmark is a prison, then the world is one. Steve was more like Othello – one who loved not wisely but too well. Steve rolled his eyes, grunted, sighed and drummed his legs. God, he wanted a drink! Steve was only seventeen but he had discovered alcohol was pretty fucking good.

Steve and Hugh were in S6 – their last year of High School – and had just attended the Four Nations Academic Decathlon. The Albion Commonwealth encompassed Scotland, England, Wales and Ireland and the Four Nations could be very competitive. There were some major social and political divides between them and Steve came from the kind of conservative household that had elected the incumbent Prime Minister... on purpose, for some reason. The PM was a total buffoon whose advisors were more powerful and dangerous than the elected leader. One of those advisors was Jethro Renton-Mass, a shrewd and clever man who achieved more with whispers than the Prime Minister did with bellowing slogans. Steve's father was among those political powerhouses – so powerful were they that they didn't need to be elected.

Steve's phone buzzed and lit up and he looked at it hurriedly, hoping it was a reply from...

"Fuck," Steve muttered.

DAD: [Will you be home tonight or tomorrow?]

His dad hadn't even asked if they had won the academic competition – they had! When Steve and Hugh had been chosen to represent the school, there were a few surprised faces. Well, no-one was surprised that Hugh had been chosen but Steve? Everyone assumed he had been chosen because of his status in the school rather than his intelligence.

The Decathlon was at lease a nine-hour drive away and Steve had wanted to take his new car. The original plan was for Steve to drive and Hugh to take a train or plane but Hugh's parents didn't want him taking either alone and Steve refused to change his plans. Mostly, Seve thought he'd listen to hours of talk about trains but actually, trains didn't especially interest Hugh.

As a compromise Steve agreed to drive and Hugh would travel in the car. His car was brand-new GreenWay23x, a car that was both fast and environmentally friendly which Steve liked to boast about. Steve also liked that it antagonised his dad to drive such an efficient vehicle – even though his dad was the one that bought it – because climate scepticism played well with the kind of people that voted for politicians he advised.

Steve leaned forward to ask Matt, the boys' teacher who was driving, how long they were going to be. Matt had been asked to attend with them at the last minute – as a chaperone, Steve guessed. Matt had a worried knot of distraction around his head – probably because of the snow that had already added three hours to the journey and they were still far from home.

"Are we going to be home for Christmas Eve?" Steve asked.

The weather outside was frightful.

The snow had started on the day of Academic Decathlon and now a blanket of the white stuff seemed to have covered all four nation and every route across them. Matt had already warned they might need to stop for the night and continue in the morning.

Matt looked in the rear-view mirror at Steve. Steve was a handsome seventeen-year-old – nearly six foot tall, a footballers build, a square but jaw, dark skin, hazel-brown eyes and short dark brown hair. Steve was popular, smart and attractive. He had something of a reputation for arrogance but there was something manufactured about it as if the behaviour was cultivated out of expectation rather than actual personality trait.

"Sorry, Steve but we're going to have to stop for the night. There's a lot of weather outside," Matt replied.

Steve smiled at the use of the English idiom but was glad Hugh hadn't heard it – the guy has a problem with turns of phrase and Steve couldn't be bothered digging into etymology.

A lot of weather outside! Matt should know – he was the one creating it.

Matt's eyes slid to the other boy in the back. Hugh was also seventeen and cute rather than handsome. He was several inches over six feet with long limbs that made him look like a matchstick man. Hugh reminded Matt of another all boy he'd met recently – Jay.

Hugh's face was round but his nose was long and his eyes were grey-green. Hugh's hair was dark, messy and in need of a cut. He was quiet but when he got talking it could be difficult to get him to stop talking.

Matt was charged with arranging a meeting between the two which was difficult even though they already knew each other. What Matt really had to do was "get the two together" – nothing was more important.

"Great," Steve had replied bitterly to Matt.

STEVE: [I'll be home tomorrow. Stopping for the night.]

Steve saved his words when he talked to his dad, who tended to be judgemental, argumentative and cantankerous. His dad wouldn't reply – not only because they had a distant and unemotional relationship, but his father was a busy man. Samuel Evans worked for the Scottish office of the Senior Ministers Advisory Taskforce, led from London by Jethro Renton-Mass.

Steve sent another (ANOTHER!) message off to Blair, his best friend – albeit one who was not currently talking to him.

STEVE: [We have to stop for the night coz of the weather. I might be stuck sharing a room with Hugh Hanes! Rolls eyes.]

No! Fucking! Reply!?

"Something wrong?" Matt asked.

"No," Steve lied.

"Maybe you should tell Hugh that we're going to be stopping soon?" Matt suggested.

Steve nodded, turned in his seat and then poked Hugh in the arm.

Hugh was so skinny. Steve thought Hugh was fascinating in the way he moved, talked and thought. For example, Hugh tended to avoid contractions. Steve once asked him about it and Hugh admitted he had no difficulty with them he just didn't like them. Hugh also avoided – but did not entirely abstain – from eye-contact. His eyes tended to drift just a little from whoever he was talking to. Some people thought it was rudeness but Steve appreciated it was just discomfort from the intensity of gazing.

Hugh was an odd-ball package where the parts didn't work but the sum of those parts did. In response to the poke, Hugh slid the band of his headphones from the top of his head to the back – he liked pretending he was opening a space helmet – and then pushed the speakers from his ears onto his shoulders.

"Yes?" Hugh asked.

"We're stopping for the night," Steve said and then looked forward again.

It was a bit of a dick move – he knew it was a woefully unsatisfactory explanation for anyone but especially Hugh. Of course, Steve knew this – he kind of just wanted someone to talk to.

The snow was a messy flurry in front of the car but it looked pretty.

"I need more information," Hugh said.

Hugh didn't need to look for it – it should have been obvious from the adverse weather and the fact five hours of travel had taken them nearly eight hours already – the were only just approaching border between England and Scotland. There was still the best part of 250 miles to reach home.

Most people rolled their eyes, huffed or sighed when Hugh asked for more information. Most people... but not Steve. Steve was different – sure he was a sport obsessed, locker room smelling jock but he was smart too. Hence why he was both the football captain and chosen for the Academic Decathlon.

Steve didn't mind when or why Hugh asked for more information. In this case, he knew that Hugh needed details to feel safe and settled. When it came to travel: why, what, were, when and how. Hugh had a worried knot around him and it was much easier to tell Hugh what he needed to know than to antagonise him – which a lot of people at school liked to do.

"What kind of information?" Matt asked.

Anyone who knew Hugh knew what information he was looking for. Steve answered methodically.

"We're stopping because the snow slowed us down and made the roads unsafe to drive on at night," Steve started. "We'll stop at the next travel lodge which is... where?" Steve asked Matt.

"Crosby Lodge. About five miles away," Matt offered.

"We'll stop in about ten or fifteen minutes," Steve calculated. "We'll stop by not driving anymore."

Why. What. Where. Why. When. How.

"That's nice. Thank you," Hugh replied.

"That's nice..." was one of the very few, possibly only times, Steve ever heard Hugh use a contraction in a sentence. It was an easily repeated phrase that Hugh found comfortable like an old jumper.

The worried arrangement settled into a quiet and almost blank expression of emotion but Hugh was brimming with thoughts and feelings and surprised Steve by noticing he was distracted.

"Are you ok?" Hugh asked.

Hugh was staring straight ahead but Steve accepted that was just Hugh's way.

"Yup."

"Are you sure? You have checked your phone forty-three times in the last four hours and..." Hugh glanced at the large digital screen of his watch; "...twenty-one minutes."

Hugh had learned people did not always answer questions honestly and sometime you needed to ask twice. He was always proud of himself when he got it right.

"I have not checked it that many times," Steve protested.

Had he?

"You have been checking messaging apps including Messengr, Sextr and Instr..." Hugh observed.

"You've been reading over my shoulder?" Steve interrupted angrily.

"I observed. The optimal distance to read a phone screen is fifty to seventy centimetres," Hugh detailed. "Your phone was outside the optimal distance and turned away so I could not read it. However, I recognised the themes of the applications as they loaded..."

"Fucksake Hugh," Steve complained.

"I am sorry," Hugh answered.

"We'll be stopping in a few minutes," Matt interjected, sensing the tension.

"That is good," Hugh replied. "I need to urinate."

"That's because you drank a litre of water since our last stop," Steve observed.

"Yes, I am starting to feel bladder discomfort. Also, I have an erection," Hugh revealed.

Steve barked an involuntary laugh and Matt sputtered and coughed at the unexpected information.

"It is not due to your conventional attractiveness. I think my bladder is overfull and pressing down on my prostate," Hugh enlightened.

"I don't need any more information, thanks," Steve cut him off.

"Ok. I understand," Hugh replied blandly.

Matt exited the motorway and pulled into the car park of the Crosby Lodge. Matt parked close to the roadside hotel then Steve and Hugh climbed out. Hugh was sat behind Matt so Steve was on the opposite side of his car. He leaned over the top to talk to the teacher.

"I'm gonna go to the toilet too. We'll meet you at the front desk?" Steve suggested.

"Sure thing," Matt replied.

There would be a toilet in their rooms but Hugh couldn't or wouldn't wait long enough to check in. Steve could see Matt was anxious, frustrated and edgy – it loomed over him like a cloud, the tension rolling off his head and down his neck and wrapping around his shoulders. But why?

Steve turned to walk with Hugh to the toilets but he was already gone and nearly at the entrance. Steve followed, half a minute behind Hugh, and pushed into the clean and fresh smelling restroom. There were another two men in the room, moving away from the urinals to wash their hands.

Hugh was at a urinal and Steve stepped beside him, unzipped and pulled his flaccid penis out to pee. Steve looked to his classmate and saw that Hugh had unbuttoned and unzipped. His jeans were wide open so Steve could see Hugh's underwear hooked under his balls and he had a dark bush of pubes above his dick.

Also, Hugh was still hard. The piss came out at high pressure and Hugh was holding is cock in a tight fist like he was handling a firehose.

Also, Hugh's cock was huge – eight inches and the biggest dick Steve had ever seen in real life.

"Please stop looking at my penis," Hugh said at an embarrassingly normal volume.

Steve blushed and glanced behind him at the two men who, unfortunately, were still at the washing up. They looked back at the teenagers with unreadable expressions. Steve could tell they were trying to figure out who was the bigger weirdo – the boy who openly talked about his penis or the kid who was looking. Steve could see they were amused but embarrassed for him and a little bit disgusted.

"I... I wasn't looking," Steve insisted.

"No, you were," Hugh assured.

Steve stared at the wall until he heard the door close and when he looked back the men were gone. Steve and Hugh finished pissing and crossed the room to wash their hands.

"I did not mean to embarrass you," Hugh said.

Steve was surprised that Hugh had noticed. Hugh looked relaxed but with him there was always a little bubble of thought or overthinking rolling around his head. Hugh didn't always notice when he said something "wrong" but his brothers had coached him about how to recognise when he had and the kind of things people generally did not talk openly about.

"It's fine. But you shouldn't have said that," Steve replied.

"People often tell me what I should and should not say," Hugh proffered.

"I didn't mean it like that," Steve replied.

Steve had a lot of time for Hugh. His friends all thought Hugh was a laughing stock: a big, weird kid and didn't understand why Steve talked to him. Perhaps it was because Steve knew what it was like to be judged on appearances. People made a lot of assumptions about Steve because he was black and played football. Steve might be best known for his athletic prowess but he was a very emotional person and he felt the inherent unfairness of people always admonishing Hugh for being who he was.

"I didn't mean to lecture you about what you can and can't say," Steve elaborated.

"So, it is ok that I talked about my penis?" Hugh asked.

Steve thought about Hugh's dick for a moment. Steve was certainly happy with his cock which was nearly seven inches but Hugh had at least an inch in him... on him. Hugh's cock was a lovely, long schlong that suited the rest of his matchstick man appearance. Steve had looked at in in the locker room before – where it had obviously been flaccid. Hugh had a nice soft dick too.

"Not really, man," Steve said honestly. "It must be annoying that people always tell you you've said something wrong. On one hand, I don't want to be one of those people but on the other hand, talking about your penis is uncultured... on the other hand, why have I got three hands?"

"Ha. That is funny," Hugh said.

Steve grinned. Hugh actually said "ha" instead of laughing sometimes.

"Come on, Matt will be wondering where we are," Steve said as he led the way.

"Yes, Mr..."

Hugh stalled. All the students at the school addressed the teachers as Mr whatever-their-name-is and never by their first names. Yet, Hugh could not think what Matt's surname was.

"He will be waiting for us," Hugh agreed.

As they trudged across the carpark, Steve noticed the knot of confusion in Hugh.

"Steve? Can I ask you an uncultured question?" Hugh asked.

"I guess," Steve shrugged.

"Were you looking at my penis?" Hugh asked.

Hugh was curious and innocent in the way he asked and there was not a single flicker of judgement.

"Sometimes guys look," Steve answered without answering.

"Yes, I like to look at penises too," Hugh said.

Everyone at school knew Hugh was gay because he seemed literally incapable of not telling people.

"Yea, I know," Steve replied with a smirk at Hugh's honestly.

"I looked at yours in the restroom. It looked small," Hugh said.

Steve stopped and stared at him, appalled at the comment because no guy wants to be told they have a small dick. Hugh oblivious to having caused so he continued regardless.

"I have also looked at your penis in the locker room. It is nice. Your penis, not the locker room. Although, the locker room is ok..." Hugh rambled.

"Hugh, shut up," Steve interrupted.

"Ok. I understand," Hugh replied.

Steve pulled out his phone and checked the home screen. Still no messages from Blair. No message from his dad either but that didn't bother Steve. He saw Hugh looking at him with curiosity and fully expected his classmate to ask a question. When Hugh said nothing, Steve realised it was because he had told him to shut up.

When they entered reception, Steve and Hugh saw Matt talking intensely to two people. A cute, blonde white boy who was around fourteen or fifteen and a man. The man was handsome with brown eyes, black hair and olive skin.

The other man looked Italian perhaps but whoever he was, his head turned the instant Steve and Hugh entered the reception. Steve felt... very... strange... looking at the man. Steve was able to read most people but that man had a halo that was too bright – like looking directly into the sun.

The boy was easy to read. He also looked at Steve and Hugh and his feelings were immediately randy and downright filthy.

They moved off before the pair approached, leaving Matt alone.

"Who were they?" Steve asked.

"We just got chatting," Matt answered but Steve knew he was lying. "Any problems?"

"No, everything's fine," Steve lied.

Except his best friend still wasn't talking to him after... what happened.

"You boys are going to have to share, I hope that's ok?" Matt said.

Steve shrugged.

Hugh nodded happily.

"I brought you bags in and took them upstairs for you," Matt reported.

Matt, Hugh and Steve had packed for a few days since the Academic Decathlon itself took up a whole day and travel took a day each way – they should have fucking flown! It had necessitated a few overnight stays. And now another unplanned, night.

Matt handed Steve the key and they headed for the elevator. It took Matt a moment to realise Hugh had not moved. Steve already knew why. Everyone at school knew Hugh didn't like elevators.

"Hugh? Are you coming?" the teacher asked.

"I'll take the stairs. What floor are we on?" Hugh asked.

"Three. Room Fourteen," Steve said, looking at the key.

Steve smiled at the number and caught Hugh's eye. He was thinking the same thing.

"We'll see you up there," Matt interrupted.

Matt and Steve pressed the call button and waited.

"Hugh said you were checking your phone a lot in the car," Matt said – worried that whatever it was that preoccupied the boy would interfere with matchmaking him with Hugh. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Matt had met Angelo and Milo at the front desk of the hotel; they were all travelling north after intercepting Steve and Hugh during the Academic Decathlon, working together to try and push the boys closer. The overnight stay was a part of that – giving the boys time alone in a potentially intimate environment.

They were all part of a special team, each member with a special skill.

Angelo was over 290 years old and not quite human. He possessed the ability to see through time - chronal cognition they called it. He could also see adjacent timelines – parachronal cognition. It was Angelo who insisted the team had to get Steve and Hugh together.

Matt manipulated the weather to orchestrate the overnight stay and drive in this secluded location, away from home. They'd had separate rooms for the Decathlon. Perhaps without the pressure or oversight from his peers, Steve would feel more comfortable.

Finally, Milo was the little minx who could alter memories – both subtly and otherwise. Making Steve and Hugh recall Matt as their teacher was Milo's work. It was a very subtle group of memories that placed Matt in a position of trust. Now Matt could be there to sooth things and drive them along (like getting the boys to share a room),

"No, I don't want to talk about it," Steve replied.

But he was thinking about it... again...

THREE DAYS AGO

"But who gets to define how much cake is too much cake?" Steve said.

"Half a cake for one person when it's meant to feed sixteen people... is too much cake," Blair punctuated his point.

Steve could see Blair was excited and happy, it jumped around him like a puppy that couldn't stay down.

"Right, fine," Steve conceded.

The friends were on their way back inside after a lowkey workout on the football pitch. School was finished for the Christmas holidays and this would be their last chance to run the field or practice shots until the new year. Also, they liked hanging out and talking about Gareth Simpson eating too much cake. It was his own birthday cake, but still.

"So, smart-jock," Blair said – holding the locker room door open for Steve. "You're off to the super-smart people convention tomorrow?"

Steve drew Blair a withering look. Blair's excitement and happiness and settled into something approaching a sulk. Blair had always gently needled Steve about being "as good in the classroom as you are on the pitch... shame you're crap in the bedroom. So I've heard."

"It's called the Four Nations Academic Decathlon, which I think you know. And you know I hate when you call me smart-jock," Steve replied.

The boys sat down, side by side, to pull off their muddy trainers and socks.

"And Hugh Hanes is going to be there?" Blair chuckled.

"Yea, he's a super-smart person too so..." Steve retorted cheekily.

"He's weird though," Blair said. "Funny, smart, but..."

"Don't say weird again," Steve warned.

Steve could see Blair was annoyed. Why? Because Steve was going away for a few days or because he'd admonished Blair for his judgement of Hugh?

"You defend him a lot, you know," Blair said as he pulled off his t-shirt.

"We spend a lot of time together to prepare for the Academic Decathlon," Steve reasoned. "And I wouldn't defend him so much if people weren't such dicks about him."

"Hey, I'm not a dick!" Blair protested.

Blair stood up and humped his crotch into Steve's face, cackling as he did so.

"Gross!" Steve objected.

Oh! My! God! Heaven! Boy smells! Dick! Shirtlessness!

Blair rubbed his gross (amazing) school football shirt in Steve's face. Steve breathed in while removing it from under his nose. He looked up at Blair who stood over him – topless and barefoot. Only his shorts covered the important bits in the middle.

Blair had a similar build and development to Steve. Both a few inches short of six-foot, broad builds, sparse chest hair spreading from the centre of their chests, cresting around their nipples and plunging down to their dicks. Steve had looked at Blair in the shower plenty of times to know that his best friend had big balls and a fat flaccid dick.

Neither Steve nor Blair was "hairy" but they had chest hair and dark barbs on their inner thighs and running down their legs. Steve's square jaw was clean shaven whereas Blair had a week's worth of stubble that the school didn't like but didn't have specific rules against.

Blair was still standing in front of Steve when he pushed his shorts down.

Steve half averted his eyes from his best friend's cock. Dick. Penis. It was a soft, three-inch roll of circumcised penis. Blair wasn't teasing Steve or baiting him or playing with him – the gesture had been casual and thoughtless. Steve had never had the courage to tell anyone that he was gay – not even, or perhaps especially, his best friend.

Still, Steve was up close with his friend's dick and wanted so smell it and rub it over his face. Steve hadn't come out to his best friend, or anyone actually, but he wanted to. Steve genuinely didn't know how people would react.

Steve's dad would hate him. Blair would probably be cool with it. The rest of the school? They'd be surprised more than anything – Steve could almost see the collective knot of bewildered scribbles above their heads. Gay kids got teased at school – well, most did. They had tried to tease Hugh and gotten nowhere because he was totally immune to that kind of antagonism.

The dicks in the school found other ways to antagonise Hugh.

Blair turned away and walked bare-assed towards the shower. Having never fucked a man before, Steve wondered what it would feel like. Blair had firm glutes; the meaty globes would need to be parted for him to get inside. However, Steve was more interested in someone fucking him. He imagined being bent over and someone slapping has ass as he thrust inside. The most Steve had put inside himself was fingers – he was too scared to buy a dildo in case someone in the family found it, or the housekeeper.

Steve shook himself from his reverie and pulled his shirt off, he shoved his shorts and underwear down by lifting his ass and then stood up, stepped out of them and headed to the showers to see Blair. Not to see him as in look at him... although Steve was going to look. No, Steve went to shower with Blair. That doesn't sound right either. Steve went to the showers to shower at the same time as Blair was showering.

There was nothing gay about it.

Steve saw his naked, hunky friend and felt his heart quicken. Blair's chest, arms and legs were sexy as fuck and the flaccidness of his penis was perhaps more appealing than if it were hard. Steve approached and surprised them both by putting his hands on Blair's chest and kissing him.

That was a bit gay.

Blair didn't pull away, he kissed Steve back. Well, he kissed Steve's lips. Their mouths opened and tongues flashed. Blair put up his arms, wrapping them around Steve's back. Their bodies pressed closer; chests and legs and groins. Steve got very hard, very fast. Blair... not so much.

Blair pulled back, "What was that?"

Steve looked at his best friend and tried not to lick his lips. They were naked in the showers after school. The water wasn't running yet and Blair's skin has a salty sheen of perspiration on it. Steve wasn't sure what had possessed him to do that. To kiss his best friend while they were both naked... yet, Blair hadn't pulled away. Blair had kissed him back even.

"I... eh..." Steve tried to formulate a coherent sentence and failed.

He could see Blair was confused rather than disgusted or repulsed.

"That was... interesting," Blair said.

"Yea?" Steve chuckled.

Steve kissed Blair again and then moved from his lips to his neck. Steve kissed down his friend's chest, licking Blair's nipple and then dropping to his knees. Steve pushed his face into Blair's groin, nuzzling the floppy penis and sniffing his balls.

Steve put out his tongue and holding Blair's penis, began to lick it. Steve had always wanted to do this with a boy but was too scared. This hadn't been planned and perhaps the unexpected spontaneity was what spurred them both on. The fact the Blair was the one was something really special. Steve licked Blair's balls and dick, which had started to harden. Steve jerked it with one hand, his other hand on Blair's abdomen.

Once it was fully stiff, Steve looked into the eye of Blair's erection. He squeezed the cock and watched the purple head ooze. Steve kissed the head, feeling a sticky strand of silk touch his lips as he pulled away. But Steve wanted to go farther.

"Do you want me to stop?" Steve asked Blair.

Steve was looking up at his best friend. They were both bare naked. Steve was on his knees and fully erect; Steve was holding Blair's erection in his grip and waiting to suck it. What else could Blair say?

"No. Suck it," Blair replied.

Steve's eyes snapped to his friends' cock. He moved his face closer, licked the head and then licked the shaft and then took the head into his mouth. Blair moaned and put his hands on Steve's head. Steve moved his hands to Blair's legs, stroking up and down the muscular limbs. Steve moved his face closer to Blair's groin, advancing his friend's cock deeper into his mouth.

Steve continued to stroke Blair's left leg but used his right hand to fondle his balls, clamp his fingers around the root of Blair's erection and to steady the turgid tube of flesh.

Blair moaned some more and began to buck his hips.

Everything Steve knew about blowjobs came from porn but he seemed to be doing a good job. Steve breathed through his nose but a few times he pulled back to gulp in air. Precum mixed with other fluids that slopped out of his mouth – stringy and sticky, it spilled over his chin.

Steve licked the length of the six-inch shaft, swirling his tongue around the head and then kissing the head with pouted, wet lips. Steve worked his tongue up and down the shaft a few more times, feeling Blair shiver as he did so. Steve could feel the firm organ throbbing; a vein along one side was prominent and pulsed with hot blood.

Steve wanted to make Blair cum. He groped the cock again and manhandled it into his mouth, slurping and sucking, tightening his lips and swallowing until he felt Blair's hands tighten in his hair. Blair's cum flowed in spurts that coated Steve's tongue. Blair let go of Steve's head.

"You don't have to eat that if you don't want to," Blair said.

Steve looked up – cum in his mouth and filth on his chin. He gulped down the claggy, lumpy mixture. Steve was not a connoisseur of spunk, he had only tasted his own, but Blair's jizz was... ok...

Steve wiped his chin and breathed deep breaths. He rocked back on the soles of his bare feet and stood up with Blair offering a hand to support him.

"Did you swallow my cum?" Blair asked incredulously.

"Yea," Steve laughed. "I guess I did."

There was a very awkward silence.

"Right... ok..." Blair stuttered.

Steve could tell Blair regretted what had happened. Now that the excitement and sexual stimulation has passed, Blair came crashing down on the realisation that he'd just gotten a blow job from a guy.

"I- I need to go," Blair said, brushing past Steve as he left the shower room.

"But... you haven't showered yet," Steve said.

It sounded stupid. Stay longer, be naked, let me watch you get soaking wet. No wonder Blair ran away. Despite his embarrassment and fear of the uncertainty in his relationship, Steve was still horny himself. He knew it would be wrong to chase after Blair with a raging stauner so instead, Steve turned on the water and started stroking it.

The water lubricated his seven-inch cock and Steve let himself imagine Blair reciprocating what had just happened. Steve ignored the clear illogic of this – he knew Blair wasn't gay or bisexual. He knew the same way he could tell when people were happy or sad or annoyed or angry... he just knew.

Steve continued to jerk himself, reaching around to press a finger gently against his hole. His hard-on was hot and rigid, the head was excited and tingled with sensation as his hand passed over it.

Fuck! How could he be so stupid! He had sucked his best friend's dick!

Yet, Steve was still excited and approached an orgasm with ease. The water had made Steve's skin shiny and slippery, making it easier to pleasure himself. Steve was so close to the point of no return that he didn't even need to frig himself but his finger stayed close to the hole, rubbing around it and massaging his perineum.

Steve brought his muscular arm in front of his face, gripping his own hair and biting his bicep as he imagined being taken from behind by a sexy man like Mr Carey, the PE teacher for the older boys at the school... the man who was standing at the entrance to the showers watching him.

Mr Carey was a bisexual man in his thirties and seventeen-year-old school boys didn't really do anything for him. His boyfriend did things for him a few times a week. However, Steve was an incredibly sexy young man and it wasn't as if he deliberately watched the naked lad.

Mr Carey had been cleaning up us office and heard someone leaving – Blair. Mr Carey had only come to check the locker room was clear before going home when he heard the shower. He had not expected to find a naked boy in the showers and expected even less that the boy would be jerking off.

"Oh my fucking god," Steve said as his cock shot.

He hadn't been able to stop. Steve was so close to orgasm that his hand just kept going. The sight of the fucking hot teacher had been more exciting and stimulating than shocking or embarrassing. Steve's cum didn't shoot too far because it was a fast wank and he jerked off every day. The jizz spurted and leaked, sloshing onto the shower floor.

Steve let go of his cock, leaving himself fully exposed to the young teacher who looked intrigued, excited, embarrassed, lustful and ashamed all at once. Mr Carey knew he shouldn't be looking at the boy. Finally, Steve came to his senses – recognising that he was naked and exposed and had just been seen shooting spunk by a fucking teacher!

"Make sure you rinse the floor properly," Mr Carey said awkwardly.

Mr Carey turned and left Steve to finish his shower, to wishing the ground swallowed him whole and to hope Steve didn't tell anyone. The young man did not want anyone to think he routinely watched teenage schoolboys showering or masturbating.

Despite the humiliation of being caught jerking off, Steve was more upset and obsessed with what had happened to Blair. Thinking about being watched was a rather nice fantasy for future wanks but potentially losing his friend was a real downer.

Blair wouldn't dump him or hate him, would he?

Steve hadn't stopped thinking about, apologising, trying to explain himself, asking if Blair was ok... three days later and Steve still didn't know if he even had a best friend anymore. Instead, Steve was stuck at a roadside hotel with a teacher and classmate. It was only a few hours until Christmas eve...

CHRISTMAS STEVE

When they reached the third floor, Steve and Matt alighted. They exchanged few words, though Steve could tell the man was thinking furiously – not as in angrily, rather he was overwrought. Steve pushed his key into the lock of room 314. Steve smiled as he looked at it – Hugh had noticed the numerical significance too. Hugh was stood still a few paces from the door. The tall boy was planted like a tree and he contemplative.

"Something wrong?" Steve asked.

"That is unclear," Hugh replied. "There is only one bed."

Steve sidled past Hugh and looked at the bed in the middle of the room. It was a double bed – not even a queen or king sized. Steve looked back at Hugh who did not look particularly bothered with there being only one bed which meant his classmate was thinking he would have a problem with it.

"One of us could sleep on the floor, I guess?" Steve put forward.

"Not it," Hugh said and walked towards his bed to put his jacket down.

Steve flapped his hands at the audacity of it but he had kind of asked for it.

"Well, do you mind sharing?" Steve asked.

Hugh turned to face Steve, and his eyes flicked around as he thought about his reply.

"No. But I am a homosexual and I know some boys have a problem sharing a bed with a homosexual," Hugh responded.

Steve tried not to smile – Hugh really was quite sweet.

"I don't have problem sharing," Steve said.

"That's nice. Then no, nothing is wrong," Hugh asserted.

Hugh had taken off his jacket and as he pulled his jumper off, his t-shirt rode up to expose his waistline. He was skinny but there was definition around his abdomen and the skin-tight exposure of his ribs and sternum made him look incredibly lean.

Steve took of his jacket too.

"It's getting late, we should get something to eat," Steve said.

"The restaurant downstairs is open 24/7," Hugh replied.

"Are you hungry?" Steve asked.

"I could eat a horse," Hugh said but it sounded like a parroting of the well know phrase.

"Do you ever get halfway through eating a horse and realise you're not as hungry as you thought?" Steve joked.

"Ha. That is funny," Hugh replied.

Hugh opened his travel bag and pulled out a clean shirt. Quite casually and with no indication that he had even noticed Steve looking, Hugh pulled off his t-shirt. Steve got an even better look at Hugh's chest. There was no part of Hugh, apart from his round face, that was not long and thin – his arms and legs and his torso all made Hugh look like a matchstick.

Also, he was hot!

Hugh's chest had some whisps in the centre but was otherwise smooth. He covered it by pulling on a vest (he got cold easily) and then slipping his arms into a shirt before spraying himself with deodorant and buttoning up.

"I think I might take a quick shower first," Steve said.

"Ok. I will speak to Mr... I will speak to Matt," Hugh said.

"He's in room 303," Steve said.

Hugh turned to leave and opened the bedroom door. Steve had already removed his jacket and was pulling his jumper and t-shirt off when Hugh turned back. Steve saw instant attraction from Hugh – an excited glow that Hugh, perhaps not deliberately, was able to obscure from the expression on his face. With the door open and Steve now topless, a young man passed by and grinned at the topless seventeen-year-old. Pervert.

"I like 314," Hugh said enthusiastically as he pointed at the number on the door.

"Pi," Steve replied with a nod.

Hugh's eyes flicked across Steve's bare chest. The black wiry hairs sprouting from his dark brown skin was fascinating but Hugh knew that staring was rude and he tried not to be rude. Also, staring, particularly prolonged eye contact, made him uncomfortable.

"3.141, 5926, 5358, 9793, 2384, 6264, 3383, 2795," Hugh rattled off the number to thirty-one decimal places.

He had a reason for choosing thirty-one. Pi was 3.1 and short of learning the number to 314 places, which Hugh could do, thirty-one seemed like a logical stopping place.

"I'm impressed," Steve said.

"Ok. Bye," Hugh replied and he walked out and closed the door.

A short while later, Steve was naked and dripping wet. He had just turned off the shower and stepped out of it, rubbing his hand through his dark brown hair to expel excess water. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Steve found himself exposed full-frontally to Hugh.

"Matt says he will be ready for dinner in fifteen minutes. Also, I can see your penis," Hugh reported.

Steve grabbed a towel and covered himself.

"What the hell, Hugh! Don't you know how to knock?" Steve said.

He was annoyed but slightly excited to be seen naked. Of course, Hugh had already admitted to looking at him in the locker room but the intimacy of the hotel room changed things. The question didn't land right for Hugh who was mystified by it. He lifted his hand and knocked on the open bathroom door.

"Yes, I know how to knock," Hugh replied.

"I meant..." Steve started to say but then stopped. "Don't you think you should have knocked before walking in on me in the shower?"

"You were not in the shower. I could hear the shower had stopped," Hugh pointed out. "However, I understand what you mean. I apologise for walking in on you naked. And for talking about your penis... That was uncultured."

Steve chuckled at the reference to uncultured. Did Hugh actually listen to what Steve said?

"Ok," Steve said and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"I once walked in on my little brother masturbating," Hugh offered for no obvious reason.

Steve looked uncomprehending for a moment and then laughed disbelievingly.

"What was that like?" Steve asked.

Steve had seen Hugh's brother – he was cute.

"He was fifteen but his penis is above average. However, he is my brother so that is quote disgusting unquote," Hugh replied.

"Your brother is disgusting?" Steve enquired.

"No, he is beautiful. I think he meant my looking at him masturbating," Hugh acknowledged.

Steve dried his hair while they were talking but his clothes were in the bedroom. Hugh stepped away as Steve approached and they both re-entered the main bedroom. Steve pulled on a t-shirt and then worked clean (novelty Christmas) boxers on underneath the towel. Once his genitals were covered, he removed the towel. Hugh liked the look of Steve's bulge and the way the legs of the boxer shorts wrapped around his thighs.

Steve's thighs were soon covered when he pulled on jeans and then he pulled on a jumper.

"Dinner time?" Steve said.

"Yes. We will Meet Matt downstairs," Hugh replied.

"Let's take the stairs," Steve said – accompanying Hugh to avoid the elevator.

Matt was by himself at the front desk. As the boys approached him, Matt was reminded of the boys next door, Jay and Milo. Like Hugh, they were both tall and thin like beanpoles – though not as tall as Hugh. Steve, Hugh, Jay and Milo were all taller than him – considering he was twenty-odd years older; it was mildly embarrassing to have to look up at the teenagers.

It was already dark outside as Matt, Steve and Hugh sat in the dining room. It was midwinter though – it got dark early. The greenspace around the lodge was covered in a blanket of snow and illuminated by bright lights. Steve was staring out at the snowscape while Hugh went to get a third desert.

"Hugh is very relaxed around you," Matt commented.

Steve hesitated before replying. He wasn't sure what the teacher was driving at.

"Yea. People just need to listen to him. Honestly, it's harder work antagonising him than adapting to what he needs," Steve asserted.

"You spend a lot of time together?" Matt asked.

The teacher should have known their practice sessions for the Academic Decathlon had taken hours of studying together. Maybe he had a point though – it was close and persistent contact with Hugh that had cultivated Steve's empathy. That and other things that Steve had never told anyone.

"I guess so," Steve agreed.

Matt didn't get the chance to say more because Hugh returned.

"I got sticky toffee pudding. It is good. There was rice pudding too but it looked like vomit," Hugh reported.

"Good to know," Steve replied with a grin.

"Are you going to get more?" Hugh asked.

"I'm full," Steve answered.

"You should not have filled up on horse," Hugh replied, chuckling.

Steve laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes.

"I made a joke," Hugh reported and he was clearly pleased with himself.

"I can see that," Matt commented – watching Steve catch his breath. "Why don't you guys go out for some fresh air? The snow is fresh."

"I do not like the cold," Hugh said.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Steve encouraged.

Hugh's eyes briefly met Steve's as he decided whether or not to relent to the peer pressure, is eyes slid away and looked down.

"I will need my hat. My ears get cold," Hugh said.

"Ok," Steve agreed.

"I will need a jumper and my jacket. My body gets cold," Hugh added and Steve waited for more. "I will need my gloves..."

"Your toes get cold?" Steve suggested humorously.

"They do but the gloves are for my fingers. Also, I will need extra socks... my toes get cold," Hugh said.

Out in the snow, twenty minutes later, Steve had to talk Hugh into having a snowball fight.

"Did you like that? Did you have fun?" Steve said, dancing with his shoulders.

"Yes, I liked it. Yes, I had fun," Hugh replied.

Steve had gone easy on Hugh but his classmate could move fast and a few times Steve would have sworn Hugh just appeared in impossible places. At one point, Hugh had run away from Steve's attack, sprinting around a corner; Steve turned the corner a moment later but Hugh was gone and a moment later he was pelted in the back with snowballs.

After that, they built a snowman that was slightly lopsided. Hugh wanted to fix it until Matt told him the flaw made the snowman more charming. Hugh wore and unhappy face for a few minutes but then seemed to forget about it. Matt brought them a hat and scarf and even sourced some dark, round stones for the eyes and mouth.

"He looks pretty good right?" Steve asked Hugh.

"Yes," Hugh replied.

"I'm kinda glad we got stuck here," Steve confided.

"That's nice. I'm going inside now," Hugh replied as he turned and walked away.

Most people would have been upset by the dismissiveness, lack of engagement and apparent apathy. Most people, but not Steve. He could see Hugh was quite content, his mind already wandering as he crossed the carpark towards the entrance to the lodge.

Steve's mind was wandering too. When the day had started he was worried about Blair not responding to any of his umpteen messages. Now he was thinking about how cute Hugh's red nose was and how the skinny boy was also really sexy.

Steve had known for a while, ever since their practice for the Academic Decathlon had put them together for several hours a week, that he liked Hugh. Steve liked Hugh a lot more than he was willing to admit, to himself or anyone else.

Steve dug around in his pocket and pulled out his phone. His happiness seemed to vanish like heat radiating into the cold and being lost. Still no reply from his best friend? His best friend! Even if blowing him in the showers had been a mistake, surely Blair should have replied to something by now?

Not looking where he was going as he cross the carpark to follow Hugh, Steve slipped and fell on his hip. There was a sudden screech of tires and the blare of a car horn. Steve was caught like a deer in the headlights – even if he hadn't been stunned, he could not have moved fast enough to get out of the way of the car that was skidding towards him. The car was trying to stop but it was going too fast, sliding on the ice and in a moment Steve would be hit...

Hugh had reached for the handle of the door and pulled it open when his attention was drawn.

He had been thinking about how it is well known the Inuit's have forty-six words for snow but which country had four hundred and twenty-one terms for snow? It had been a question at the Academic Decathlon and Hugh had not known the answer.

Steve had known the answer was Scotland. Hugh was thinking he should have asked what kind of snow they had been playing in but he was too cold and wanted to get inside where it was...

The sudden screech of tires and the blare of a car horn caused Hugh to turn. He saw Steve had fallen in the path of a large vehicle an in a moment, his classmate would be killed.

"No!" Hugh shouted.

Shock, surprise, fear and intuition took over.

Hugh reached out his hands, each palm pointed across the carpark. What happened next, happened in an instant. There was no bright light or sci-fi dissolve. There was accompanying sound. One moment Steve and the errant car vanished and the next they reappeared opposed positions.

They had switched places.

The entire exchange was so fast, it appeared to be almost instantaneous. Less than the time it took to blink. Steve felt strange; pins and needles gently prickled his skin. It took a moment to figure out what had happened because the car appeared to have vanished – except it hadn't, it was on his other side from where it had been a second ago. But he had moved too... had they somehow switched places?

Steve looked around wildly and he saw Hugh with his arms outstretched and an amazed expression on his face. Even at a distance, Steve could see a busy arrangement of thoughts and feelings overcoming Hugh.

In his bones, Steve could feel that Hugh had saved him somehow.

The car had lost no momentum during the transfer so it screeched and slid, finally stopping when it hit the kerb where a bank of snow burst onto the grass from the impact. The driver came out panicking.

"What... I don't know what happened... are you ok, kid?" the driver asked.

"Yea, I'm fine. I fell," Steve responded.

He looked back to the door but Hugh was gone.

Hugh appeared in room 314 on the third floor of the Lodge.

Hugh was breathing hard and close to tears, shaking all over and finding it difficult to think. His brother had known about Hugh's ability for months and had warned him to never tell anyone. Hugh understood why – he read comic books and watched movies, freaks like him would be locked up.

He hadn't meant to reveal himself, but what was he supposed to do? Let Steve die?

Hugh felt hot, too hot! He ripped off his jacket and then his jumper and then his shirt. The sleeveless vest emphasised his spindly arms and was loose enough for a nipple to slip out. Hugh was shaking hard and pacing the room. It wasn't just that he had revealed his ability. Until today, Hugh had only ever transported himself. Well, technically he had moved a few smaller objects across a room. However, Hugh had never attempted or even contemplated moving an entire other person.

And technically, it wasn't just another person. It was two people (Steve and the driver) and a vehicle. Hugh had no idea he had that level of ability. Was he shaking from fear or from the surge of effort that the practice had taken?

Steve burst into the room and closed the room door. He looked at Hugh with open astonishment but Hugh had trouble recognising it. Whatever it was, Steve was making some pretty heavy eye contact. Hugh didn't like it so he looked away and continued pacing and shaking.

"That was amazing."

"Hugh... you saved me."

"How did you do that?"

"Stop. Stop," Hugh muttered.

"You did something. One second I was here and the next I was there."

"The car moved too."

"Please stop," Hugh pleaded.

"It was you. I know it was you."

"Hugh, talk to me."

Hugh had backed up against the wall as Steve talked. He was too noisy! It was too much! Hugh covered his ears with his hands – his palms pressed as tightly against his head as he could manage but he could still hear Steve talking at him. It was too much.

Steve watched as Hugh slid down the wall, covering his ears, squeezing his eyes shut and rocking gently. Above Hugh's head, Steve could see a knot of frustration and distorted jumble of feelings that never became anything definable. Steve had said he knew Hugh had done something but he didn't say how he knew – beyond the instantaneous movement from one place to another.

Steve had never told anybody that he was able to see emotions. Literally, Steve was able to see what people were feeling. It manifested in different ways but substantially as colours and shapes. It was one of the reasons why he understood and liked Hugh so much.

One of the reasons but not the only reason.

Above Hugh's head there was a tangled mess of feelings. Like a Charlie Brown thought bubble filled with black scribbles. Steve felt a wave of empathy for Hugh – he had done this to the poor guy. Steve had talked too much and too loudly; he hadn't listened to Hugh when he said he needed Steve to stop.

Steve looked around and found what he was searching for. He lifted Hugh's headphones and MP3 player, selecting a playlist as he squatted in front of Hugh. Steve put his hand on Hugh's knee and the boy looked up at him through screwed up eyes and a face strained with stress.

"I'm sorry," Steve said – mouthing it clearly because Hugh was still covering his ears with his hands.

Steve placed the headphones over Hugh's hands but the lad pulled his hands off his ears and then clamped them back in place – this time over the headphones which drowned him in music.

Steve stood up and took off his jacket and trainers, pacing in front of Hugh who was now oblivious to everything around him. The tense knot of emotion around his head was losing and Steve felt himself relax as Hugh did – as if his own emotions had been affected by Hugh's.

Steve sat in front of Hugh, slumping back on his ass, his back resting against the bed. He watched as Hugh stopped rocking and Steve closed his eyes but just for a moment.

"I feel much better now," Hugh said ten minutes later.

"Hugh, how did you do what you did?" Steve asked.

Hugh pressed his lips tightly together, as if he were literally sealing his lips.

"Ok... I'm going to tell you something... something I've bever told anyone," Steve confided.

Hugh looked at him with curiosity, tilting his head inquisitively.

"I can see what you're feeling," Steve elucidated.

Hugh's head was surrounded by a cloud of violet and grey that signified confusion and mystery. Steve reached out with both hands and placed them lightly on the top of Hugh's head.

"I see it like a halo or a cloud. Colours that fall over your head and down your neck and off your shoulders..." Steve continued.

Steve eyed Hugh's collar bones which were exposed by the vest. As Steve spoke, his hand moved down the side of Hugh's face, over his ears, his neck and his shoulders. Hugh laughed, wriggled and pulled his shoulders up to his ears as Steve caressed his neck. A burst of bright yellow, orange and red radiated from Hugh's head and puffed more faintly from his entire body.

"Are you ticklish?" Steve asked with a grin.

"Yes. Please don't tickle me," Hugh replied.

Steve fought the urge to do it anyway but he could see a wisp of royal blue on the crown of Hugh's head – trust – a trust that Steve didn't want to break.

"Sorry," Steve said, placing his hands in his lap.

"Can you see literally emotion?" Hugh asked by way of follow-up.

"Yes. Exactly," Steve answered. "But I don't know how I do it. I just do," Steve said.

He could tell Hugh was deciding what to say next. Steve had been open and honest and Hugh felt the weight of reciprocity but he also wanted to share his secret.

"I just do what I do," Hugh agreed.

"But what do you do?" asked Steve.

"I can move through space," Hugh replied.

"What do you mean, you can move through space?" Steve asked.

Steve didn't even blink. One moment Hugh was there and the next he vanished.

"Like that," Hugh said.

Steve turned to see Hugh standing behind him, at the bottom of the bed.

"Wow. That is so cool," Steve beamed as he scrambled around the floor, turning to get a better look.

Hugh smiled in return and again, he seemed to radiate happiness and excitement.

"It took practice to do it without losing my clothes," Hugh added.

"R-really?" Steve replied.

He was trying not to seem too interested.

"So, when you first learned to move through space... can we just call it teleport?" Steve asked.

"Yes. Alright," Hugh agreed.

"When you first teleported, you ended up... naked?" Steve said. "What was that like?"

One moment Hugh was on the other side of the room and the next, the clothes he had been wearing fell to the floor with no Hugh inside them. Simultaneously, Hugh appeared just inches away from Steve and he was totally naked.

"Like that."

Steve was still sat on the floor so when he turned to look, he was up close and personal with Hugh's groin. Hugh's bellybutton was shaped like a teardrop from which a trail of fine hair descended to an unmanscaped bush of pubes. The hair was thick in the centre and petered out as moved over the inguinal line. Hugh's inner thighs and lower legs were also peppered with feathery hair.

Steve looked up at Hugh, whose tall figure loomed over him.

"You are looking at my penis," Hugh said. "It is ok if you want to look. No-one can see you looking and I will not tell anyone."

Hugh's flaccid penis was three inches long and there was a bulge inside the foreskin - half an inch from the tip – where the shape of the head was visible.

"Why... why would I want to look at your penis?" Steve asked.

"Curiosity, comparison, homosexuality, bisexuality..." Hugh started to list the first ten reasons he could think of.

"What? No... Hugh..." Steve scrambled back and then stood up.

It was strange to be in the room with him naked. Had Hugh felt similarly strange walking in on him in the shower earlier? Steve couldn't help looking down at the penis in the room but it had gotten bigger. Within seconds, Hugh was fully erect. Steve imagined it in his mouth – going deep into his throat and when the cum was released, his uvula would be rinsed with jizz.

"You can put your boxers back on," Steve said ruefully because he was enjoying the nudity.

"Ok."

Fuck, Hugh's bare ass was amazing too – it could use more cushion for the pushing but Steve was less interested in topping and more interested in the thought of Hugh sliding his eight-inch cock inside him. What would it feel like? Steve had never been fucked so it was hard to imagine the sensation of being penetrated especially by suck a big dick.

Hugh put his long legs inside his boxers and turned around to face Steve again as his penis was concealed inside. The hard-on left a long sausage-shaped outline inside the underwear.

"Can I put on my t-shirt too? I am cold," Hugh reported.

"Yea, of course you can," Steve replied, trying to contain his exasperation.

Steve watched as Hugh popped his arms back inside his t-shirt, revealing tufty armpits as he did and then pulled it over his head. His arms were long and thin, making the sleeves seem extra short.

"When did you first do that then? Teleport, I mean," Steve asked to distract from the boner.

"Tuesday the first of June two thousand and twenty-one, four fifteen PM," Hugh replied.

"That's very specific," Steve chuckled. "I can't be that exact but I realised my ability around about then too."

"That's nice," Hugh said.

There was a quiet between them for a moment. Hugh wasn't being facetious or insincere when he said "That's nice", it was just a phrase he repeated by way of acknowledgement but it could grind things to a halt sometimes.

"You'll have to tell me about it someday," Steve suggested. "So, when did you learn to move other people through space?"

"Approximately thirty-four minutes ago," Hugh replied.

"Wait, I was your first time?" Steve said and then considered how that sounded – not that Hugh noticed the virginal connotations. "I mean, you had never teleported anything else?"

"I have been practicing with small objects but never another person or a vehicle," Hugh clarified.

Hugh's eight inches had abated to a mere five inches as they talked.

"I really envy you, you know. You have such an amazing ability. Mine is..." Steve paused uncertainly.

Steve sighed and at on the edge of the bed, on the left-hand side. Hugh sat at the bottom of the bed, cross-legged. His long limbs and feathery legs made him look very sweet and Steve tried not to look but he was more and more aware that he had been looking. Steve had known he was gay for a long time and been attracted to lots of boys but he'd never looked at someone the way he looked at Hugh. Steve hadn't even noticed the attention Hugh was stealing from him but now that Steve was aware of it, he was nervous.

"I think your ability is enviable," Hugh said, breaking the silence.

"It's not exactly the toughest superpower is it?" Steve scoffed. "I mean, people look at me and they think I'm fit and strong. I'm stuck with the power to tell if they're happy or sad or hungry."

Steve was embarrassed about his ability, for such a physical person, it felt stupid to be so sensitive.

"I would like to have your ability, Steve. I have trouble understanding when people are happy or sad... is hungry an emotion?" Hugh pondered seriously.

"No, I was being facetious," Steve replied.

"Ha. That is funny," Hugh said. "I do not find it easy to tell when people are being sarcastic or serious."

Steve watched a troubled sadness flow faintly around Hugh's head. It was an insubstantial mist of blue, flowing into purple – the colour of melancholy?

"I'm sorry," Steve murmured.

"However, it is cool to be able to teleport," Hugh enthused.

"Very cool," Steve agreed.

"It is late. I am going to bed. Please move," Hugh said suddenly.

"What?" Steve responded.

"Sorry. I meant, I wish to sleep on the left-hand side... please move," Hugh repeated.

"Sure," Steve replied.

Steve didn't even ask why the left side mattered so much – he could see an agitated knot of grey. Steve stood up and pulled off his jumper and t-shirt in one go. Remaining shirtless, Steve sat at the bottom of the bed to pull off his socks and then his jeans. The cuffs of the jeans were still slightly damp from the snow.

The snow – that felt like a long time ago. Steve looked at his watch and saw it was after midnight. It was Christmas Eve. Steve was wearing red boxers with Santa's on them – he was Christmas Steve on Christmas Eve.

Steve felt the bed move as Hugh climbed under the covers. When he stood up and looked around, Hugh looked adorable – snuggled under the warm duvet and his head sank inside a pillow that was probably too soft. Steve stood up and was about to get into bed when Hugh spoke.

"Put out the light," Hugh said.

"Then put out the light," Steve muttered as he complied.

They had studied Shakespeare for the Decathlon – the bard had taken up an entire category.

"Othello. Act five, scene two," Hugh recited and then paused before adding: "Are you going to kill me?"

"No, Hugh. I'm not going to kill you," Steve assured him.

"That's nice. Thank you," Hugh replied.

Even with the light out, Hugh's eyes were able to follow Steve. Although he found it difficult to avoid unguarded comments, Hugh was able to refrain from commentary about how sexy Steve looked. Steve looked like an underwear model or a superhero. Perhaps they were both superheroes in a way? Was there really such a thing?

Steve got under the covers on the other side of the bed and they both lay looking at the ceiling.

"Did you ever receive the message you were waiting for?" asked Hugh spontaneously.

"Oh... I haven't checked for a while," Steve answered.

In the excitement of what happened, Steve had quite forgotten the nervous agitation he had been feeling about his best friend. His phone was in his jeans pocket and Steve found he had no interest in checking – a far cry from a few hours ago. Steve had nearly been killed looking for a reply from Blair and now he was lying in bed next to a cute boy.

Steve could never have imagined sharing a bed with Hugh, never mind discovering Hugh had a special ability too. Steve could never have imagined telling anyone about his power – who would believe him? And if someone did believe him, imagine the danger he might be in.

Imagine the danger Hugh would be in if someone found out about his power.

"Steve?" Hugh said.

Steve had closed his eyes with the mistaken impression that they were going to sleep.

"Yea?"

"I am concerned about the journey home," Hugh said.

"Oh? Don't be. Matt seems like a good driver," Steve insisted.

"Steve?" Hugh said.

"What?"

"Who is Mr..." again Hugh faltered. "Who is Matt?"

"What do you mean, who is Matt? Matt's our teacher. He was chaperoning us to the Four Nations Academic Decathlon," Steve said as if it were a script.

"What does he teach?" Hugh asked.

Steve chuckled incredulously. "Well, he teaches..." Steve faltered this time. "Wait... What does he teach?"

"I do not remember," Hugh said chillingly. "Also, what is his name?"

"Matt..." Steve answered with a sinking feeling.

"We address our teachers by their surnames, not their first. What is Mr... What is Matt's surname?" Hugh implored.

"Well, it's... it's Mr..." Steve sat up in bed and looked around at Hugh.

Hugh was still lying flat and did not seem particularly perturbed. A flux of pale and dark blues indicated trust, safety and calm – he felt safe with Steve.

"I do not think Matt is our teacher. I do not know who he is," Hugh reported. "Also, the GreenWay23x is your car. Why is he driving your car?"

Steve didn't speak for a moment. Then...

"Well, fuck me Hugh! Why didn't you mention this before?" Steve demanded.

"As agreeable as I would be to anal sexual intercourse with you, I do not think now is appropriate," Hugh said infuriatingly.

"Why didn't you say anything before, Hugh?" Steve asked anguished.

"I did not notice until after I teleported," Hugh replied. "Perhaps whatever allows me to translocate disturbed the alteration to my memory."

"The alteration to your memory?" Steve repeated.

This was getting ridiculous! A few hours ago, Steve felt lonely as the only boy with a weird power and now Hugh also had an ability, their teacher wasn't their teacher and his memory was altered.

"It is hard to explain, Steve. I can recall Matt and his reason for coming with us to the Four Nations Academic Decathlon," Hugh clarified. "However, the more information I attempt to derive from my memory, the less I am able to recall."

"Leaving aside how someone altered our memories..." Steve started to say.

"Presumably with a similarly atypical ability as teleportation and synaesthetic empathy," Hugh interjected.

"Synaesthetic empathy?" Steve chuckled – he liked the sound of that.

Steve could see a happy flare of colours around Hugh's head. He was pleased to have pleased Steve.

"You said you can literally see emotions. The ability to feel someone else's emotions is called empathy," Hugh elaborated. "Synaesthesia is characterised by the merging of senses that are usually unconnected. Grapheme-colour synaesthesia for example is when letters and numbers are perceived as colours."

"SO, synaesthetic empathy. Very clever. It sounds way cooler when you say it like that," Steve said and then paused for a few seconds. "What was I saying before?"

"Leaving aside how someone altered our memories..." Hugh reminded him verbatim.

"Right. Leaving that aside... why?" Steve asked. "Why would a man we do not know, change our memories so we think we do know him and then bring us to a snow-covered hotel in the middle of nowhere?"

Hugh thought for a moment before replying somewhat unhelpfully: "Have you ever read The Shining?"

Steve could tell immediately that Hugh was joking – it was all around him and while most people would have cracked themselves up with such a joke, Hugh did not laugh out loud. There was an unbearable air of smugness though. The amusement fluttered in Hugh's chest though – singing and bouncing as he listened to Steve laughing.

Steve swatted him playfully and finally lay back down.

A snow-covered hotel in the middle of nowhere. It sounded like the location of a holiday romance movie. They were close to Gretna Green which was famous for marriages; in 1754 couples in England and Wales who were under the age of twenty-one needed parental consent to get married but in Scotland there was no such rule. Gretna became famous for couples crossing the border to tie the knot. Steve wondered if he would ever tie the knot – in Gretna or anywhere else.

"What are we going to do about Mr... Matt?" Hugh asked again.

"Well, I certainly think we should lock the door," Steve said.

"Agreed," Hugh responded.

The each got out their own sides of the bed and navigated cautiously through the dark towards the hotel room door. Steve misjudged how far away Hugh was and accidentally walked into the back of him. Hugh was several inches taller but Steve could smell his hair and scented skin.

Hugh secured the door with the security chain while Steve reached past him to turn the tumbler of the lock. Steve stepped back one pace and Hugh turned around to return to bed – this time it was him who misjudged how close Steve was. Steve had retreated no more than one pace so Hugh walked into his firm chest, they were face to face, body to body and groin to groin.

"Oh, sorry," Steve said.

They retreated but Steve kept thinking about Hugh's skinny body. The again lay down in the bed, facing the ceiling. It was now very late, or early depending on one's point of view. Steve was tired and he yawned while trying to settle into a comfortable rut in the bed. Then Steve noticed Hugh was shivering.

"Are you cold?" Steve asked.

"Yes," Hugh replied.

Getting out of bed had cooled their skin. Hugh was wearing a t-shirt and boxers but Steve was only wearing his underwear. Steve was cold too. Steve turned onto his left side to face Hugh, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Do you mind being touched? Hugging... that kind of thing?" Steve asked.

Hugh could feel Steve's breath on his face – it was warm and not unpleasant. Not pleasant either.

"My brother says I am like a cat," Hugh replied.

Steve's eyes knotted with confusion.

"Why?" asked Steve because the non-verbal confusion was not enough of a prompt.

"I like being touched until I don't," Hugh elaborated.

Steve smiled at Hugh and found his honesty, his innocence and his directness quite charming.

"I'm cold too... we could... we could cuddle if you want?" Steve said.

If you want.

Very much making it Hugh's decision except Steve wanted it. He wanted to hold and touch and smell Hugh. Steve had never particularly thought about being a lonely boy but he was. He didn't get on with his dad, he had good friends but none of them knew the truth about him (well, Blair had probably guessed by now) and he didn't have a girlfriend because he wanted a boyfriend but hadn't come out yet.

"Yes please," Hugh replied.

Steve slipped his left arm under Hugh's neck and his right arm over Hugh's chest and then pulled him closer. Hugh made an "ohhh" sound as he turned towards Steve and found himself face to face. Hugh's t-shirt was thin so Steve could feel his bony chest and as Steve's hand slid onto Hugh's hip, he could feel how slender the boy's waistline was.

Hugh's right arm was trapped half beneath him and half between himself and Steve but his left arm, long and gangly, draped over Steve's muscular flank. The two boys settled, warming each other and Steve was glad he couldn't see Hugh's face properly because it meant Hugh could not see his.

What was Hugh thinking?

Steve and Hugh's chests and groins and legs were gently pressed together and after another few minutes, Steve pressed his right leg between Hugh's so they were entangled. Hugh could feel the sparse and downy hairs on Hugh's legs and Hugh could feel the tickly prickle of Steve's.

"That's nice," Hugh said spontaneously.

Steve leaned closer and pressed his lips against Hugh's. If Hugh was surprised, he hid it well and since that was not his forte, he probably was not surprised. In truth, Hugh had no particular thoughts about how unexpected Steve's kiss was. It was warm and soft and Hugh simply enjoyed the sensation.

Steve closed his eyes and continued to kiss the boy whom he wouldn't even have called a friend. But he was something. Hugh returned the gentle pressing of lips with sudden energy and excitement, catching Steve off guard. Hugh seemed to have experience in the kissing department and Steve admonished himself for thinking the peculiar boy would not have had any prior intimate contact.

Though Steve also wondered who Hugh had been practicing on.

When the kissing finally broke for air, the pair lay in the dark, panting. They could each feel hot breath. Steve was thinking of hot thoughts and hot blood and hot deeds – is love a generation of vipers?

"I can feel your erection," Hugh said.

Steve blushed and nearly pulled away. He had probably given away his sexuality to his best friend but Steve had never told anyone he was gay. Even Blair might not assume Steve was gay or bisexual or anything but straight – he might just think it was a mistake. Steve had no way of knowing what Blair was thinking because they still hadn't spoken.

"I can feel yours too," Steve confided.

"Yes," Hugh said.

Steve grinded his pelvis into Hugh's so they could both feel the hard slide of arousal.

"Steve? Are you a homosexual?" Hugh asked – as direct as ever.

Steve wanted to say "yes" – he wanted to finally tell someone but he was scared and suddenly the idea of intimacy or confession was an insurmountable thing. Even in the dark, even with someone as non-judgemental as Hugh, Steve balked.

"I don't know," Steve lied.

"Ok. I understand," Hugh replied.

Steve could see Hugh's understanding emanating even in the dark. It seemed to evaporate after a few seconds – disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

"Goodnight, Steve," Hugh said.

Hugh tucked himself closer, turning his face against Steve's chest with Steve's chin resting on top of Hugh's head. Hugh's body relaxed, almost as if it were melting and his cock – so hard and big, deflated. Steve envied Hugh's carefreeness.

"Goodnight, Hugh," Steve whispered in reply.

It felt like only seconds later but it could have been minutes. Either way, Hugh was already asleep.

IT'LL BE LONELY THIS CHRISTMAS

Steve lay awake for a little while – thinking about what might have happened if he had admitted he was gay. He fantasised about a hot and exciting tryst with Hugh.

Steve wanted to kiss Hugh more, to reach down and put his hand inside Hugh's boxers. Hugh's penis was flaccid now, the limp softness flopping against Steve's own wilted dick. It would be wrong to touch Hugh in his sleep but the idea of arousing him was not only exciting but also affecting.

Steve slid his hand to the small of Hugh's back, feeling bare skin between where the t-shirt had ridden up and the waistband of his boxers. Hugh's skin was soft. Hugh was contentedly tucked against Steve's chest so Steve could feel warm breath on his bare chest.

Steve closed his eyes to imagine Hugh licking, kissing and then sucking his nipples. Then Hugh would kiss down Steve's chest, his tongue probing Steve's bellybutton and then daring to go lower...

Except Steve would rather it was him venturing lower. He wanted to be the one kissing and pleasuring and sucking. The thought of kissing Hugh's huge, turgid cock made him half hard so Steve was glad Hugh was still asleep. Steve imagined taking the cock into his mouth to make the long shaft wet, slapping the erection against his face and drinking the ooze of precum as his mouth gave Hugh pleasure like he'd never felt before.

Then, Steve would climb on top of Hugh. Hugh would lie on the bed, looking up at Steve as he manoeuvred himself into position. Steve would lift himself and hover his hole over Hugh's vertical tentpole. Lowering himself onto the eight-inch cock, Steve would feel the hardness penetrate him, spreading the sphincter that would clamp around the turgid monster.

As it went deeper, Hugh's shaft would glide into Steve's guts, stopping at the hilt and then they would bounce and lift and grind...

Steve roused from oblivion to see Hugh at the bottom of the bed. He had fallen asleep thinking about sex with Hugh and when he remembered it wasn't real, he was almost disappointed.

Hugh's long body seemed to sprout from the floor to the ceiling. Hugh pulled off his t-shirt and then dropped his boxers. Steve had been barely awake but his eyes were wide with attention now. Hugh was not teasing or enticing Steve – his undressing with almost thoughtless and he hadn't noticed Steve was looking.

Hugh's flaccid penis was really very beautiful. Yesterday, Steve had seen it hard while Hugh was pissing and later after he teleported – it had been an impressive eight inches. He had also seen after Hugh had teleported? It had been a weird day! Steve wished he hadn't been so scared and backed away. Now, knowing that Hugh did not know he was looking, Steve was able to openly observe the gangly boy with the long dick.

Hugh turned away and stepped into the bathroom, his butt was very petite and Hugh's long legs added to the delightfulness of the tight cheeks. Hugh didn't fully close the door so when the shower started running, Steve got out of bed and crept to the door. It felt sordid to watch Hugh showering but the lad was naked and wet for fucksake.

Steve pushed his boxers down his legs and stepped out of them and then started jerking himself. Watching Hugh, Steve felt a thrill, despite knowing that spying was wrong. Steve could feel his cock reach full length, thickness and hardness within his grip. As Steve continued to masturbate, his cock grew hotter. Steve just wanted a quick tug and was confident he'd cum before Hugh finished his shower when Steve felt an almost undetectable rumble.

On the floor, Steve saw his jeans and he suddenly remembered his phone. Steve let go of his cock, which stuck curved up proudly towards his stomach. It was not as big as Hugh's but it was a healthy 6.8 inches.

The rumble had indeed come from his phone – the vibration of a message alert – which he held in his dick-handling hand. There were two messages – one arrived late last night and the other just a moment ago. They were both from Blair.

BLAIR: [Sorry I didn't message back. Tom dropped my phone in the bath. Why did he even have MY phone, you ask? Good question. Wish I had a good answer. Anyway, I kinda needed time to think. We're totally ok, ok? Message me back whenever and we can talk.]

BLAIR: [Bummer you got stuck in the snow. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Did you go walking in a winter wonderland? Etc. Hope you get home today. Feel free to leave Hugh where he is lol.]

Steve smiled at the ease of Blair's reply and he felt relief that, at least from a distance, things seemed ok. Steve had imagined Blair would be angry or have told everyone what had happened. He tapped out a reply.

STEVE: [Hi. Yea, it sucked to be stuck but we built a snowman. He was a jolly soul with a corn cob pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coal.]

STEVE: [I'm gonna hit the road soon. Let's talk after Christmas. I'll say hi to Hugh for you. Lol.]

STEVE: [PS thanks for the messages. I'm glad we're ok.]

"Hello Steve. I can see your erection," Hugh said.

"Fuck," Steve jumped.

He hadn't heard the shower shut off or Hugh leaving the bathroom. Steve also hadn't consciously realised he was still lazily playing with himself. He looked at Hugh who was already searching through his bag for clothes to put on.

What? Hugh didn't even have the courtesy to check him out for another few seconds?

Steve grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist and stepped into the bathroom to shower. While the water pelted down on him, Steve thought about Blair and how things would change between them. Would Blair want a gay best friend?

After his shower, Steve got dressed while Hugh packed the few items he'd taken out. Steve was still packed because he had been too lazy to take anything out of his bag.

"Hugh, we need to talk about something," Steve said.

"Ok."

"I... I'd rather you didn't tell people about last night," Steve said.

"I need more information," Hugh replied.

Steve could see a haze of uncertainty – it wasn't confusion.

"I mean, I'd rather you didn't tell anyone about us sharing a bed. Or... kissing..." Steve said, ashamed of himself.

"Or our mutual arousal?" Hugh asked keenly.

"Definitely don't mention that," Steve agreed.

"Ok."

"It's just complicated for me, Hugh. I've not figured out how I feel or if I want to tell people and even if I did..." Steve hesitated. "I don't have the kind of family that would be very supportive."

"Ok. I understand," Hugh agreed.

"Thanks," Steve said.

"What are we going to do about Mr... Matt?" Hugh asked.

"Oh, yea. I guess we should confront him and find out who the fuck he is?" Steve said. "Oh... and while we're talking about things we shouldn't talk about, I guess you shouldn't tell anyone about my synaesthetic empathy."

Steve smiled as he used the phrase Hugh had invented. It was the kind of thing Blair would have done. Science fiction and comic books were popular and Steve and Blair had often had conversations about which character they would want to be. Steve always said he identified best with Sergeant Nation (originally named Sergeant Federation) – a super strong black superhero who was controversial in the 1950's. He was controversial for having the audacity to exist and American's nearly destroyed the publisher over it. Nowadays, Sergeant Nation was in movies and was one of the bestselling comics and movie characters in the world.

It was funny to think that Steve literally had powers and he had conversations where, if he could choose a power, he'd chose to be someone else.

"Ok. I understand. I assume you will not tell anyone about teleportation?" Hugh asked.

"I promise," Steve replied.

"If Mr... Matt altered our memories, it is likely he knows about our abilities," Hugh pointed out.

"It is the most logical explanation," Steve agreed. "But why?"

"We need more information."

A short time later and the boys were in the main reception. The hotel was busy as Crosby Lodge cleared out all the people who had stayed overnight and, like the boys, were hitting the road to get home for the holidays. The motorway was less than five minutes from the hotel and the drive home would take at least half the day so they didn't want to waste any time.

"Good morning," Matt said casually. "Did you boys sleep well?"

"Not bad," Steve replied as he thought of how to approach the conversation.

"Yes, I slept well. Also, who are you?" Hugh asked.

Steve would have aimed to be more subtle and delicate but the direct approach has merits.

"What do you mean, who am I?" Matt chuckled.

Steve could see an anxious but controlled cloud of grey envelop Matt's head. He was thinking, calculating and planning but also hoping that he was wrong about what Hugh was asking. The question was ambiguous.

"You are not our teacher. I do not know who you are. I can perceive where information about you has been... inserted to make us believe we know you," Hugh answered.

Steve too could see that information about Matt had a strange quality. Now that he knew Matt didn't belong, he could see the edges of where memories had been shoehorned in.

"Information has been inserted? Were you boys doing drugs last night?" Matt asked with an unconvincing smile.

Steve could see Matt was being evasive. Deception and obfuscation had a special quality.

"Please don't do that," Steve said seriously. "Don't gaslight us."

The colours around Matt changed as he seemed to weigh different options in his head. Steve could not read Matt's mind – only see the emotions associated with his decision-making.

"You're right, I'm sorry. The truth is, we know who you are. Both of you. And we know what you can do," Matt admitted.

"I need more information," Hugh said.

"What do you mean by we? How are you?" Steve asked.

Matt responded by walking to a small sitting area beside the exit. It looked out onto the snow-capped carpark where Steve had nearly been killed last night. Steve and Hugh joined Matt but sat opposite him.

"I'm like you but I can control the weather. I made it snow. If you look out the window, you'll see blue skies and clouds," Matt said.

Steve and Hugh looked.

"Pick a shape, any shape," Matt said.

"A parallelogram," Hugh said.

Matt pointed and within seconds, clouds had rearranged themselves into an unmistakable parallelogram.

"A pentagon," Hugh said.

The clouds rearranged again, this time into a five-sided shape. Hugh drew breath to test Matt again but Steve beat him to it.

"A pentagram," Steve said – keeping with Hugh's theme of choosing shapes beginning with P.

Paraboloid. Parbelos. Pyramid.

"Ok. I understand," Hugh said.

"You were awfully quick to accept the fantastic," Matt commented.

Hugh shut his mouth tight and Steve realised it was because they had earlier agreed not to tell anyone about their abilities. Except that was before the discovery of someone else like them and Matt had already said he knew what they could do.

"You said you know who we are and what we can do? What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"There are all sorts of special abilities, Steve," Matt answered. "Chronal cognition. Mind control. Static aging. Invisibility. Weather manipulation. Shapeshifting. Optical empathy... transposition..."

"Memory manipulation?" Hugh asked.

Hugh had a way of asking questions with bland calm but Steve could tell his friend was scared.

"Yes," Matt admitted and had the good grace to be embarrassed about it.

"You changed our memories? Why not just tell us?" Steve asked.

Matt didn't really answer the question. Instead, he skirted around it.

"Specially enhanced xenogeny is a phenomenon that gives rise to people like us. Abilities are not inherited from parents; they appear to arise spontaneously. I've been putting together a team because..." Matt hesitated.

Matt's eyes caught Steve's and he realised that Steve would know not only if he was lying but also if he was not telling them everything.

"There is a great danger coming," Matt admitted honestly. "We are going to need people like you."

It's not every day you get recruited for a superhero team to stop an ominous "great danger". They took it pretty well.

"You did not answer Steve's question. Why did you lie?" Hugh asked.

"To build trust," Matt said.

"By lying to us?" Steve scoffed.

"To build trust between the two of you," Matt clarified. "By creating a situation where you could be honest with each other."

And, Steve wondered, by giving them a common goal.

"How did you find us?" Hugh asked.

"Someone like us with the ability to find people like us," Matt replied. "Another of our team told me you two wouldn't believe me or join us if I approached you separately."

Steve could see this was a half-truth at best. What else was Matt hiding?

Matt's team was not just his team. Angelo was also one of its chief architects – the angel, more or less human, who could see futures. Like a character out of A Christmas Carol, Angelo had visited other pasts, presents and futures and shared with Matt that one particularly grim future kept impressing itself. Matt needed a strong team to avert catastrophe.

"Steve and Hugh are important, Matt," Angelo had said several months ago. "They won't help us unless they're joined, we can't do it without them but we must not deprive them of what they can achieve together."

"So, you decided the best way to get us to join you was to change our memories to make us think we knew you and then strand us here overnight?" Steve asked sceptically.

"We were confident that isolation in a remote setting would... free you both from the pressure of your usual peers," Matt said cautiously.

Matt was probably right. Steve would never have told Hugh what he could do if they had been back home. Moreover, he would never have taken steps towards becoming more himself without the liberation of last night.

"Did you know I was going to be hit by that car?" Steve asked grimly.

"No. I knew Hugh was going to save you from being hit by that car," Matt answered.

"What do you think?" Steve asked Hugh who had gone incredibly quiet.

"I think I want to go home now," Hugh said.

"You have both only taken your first steps towards discovering what you can do," Matt pressed on.

"I do not understand," Hugh said miserably.

Steve could see Hugh's consternation. It loomed over him darkly and oppressively. Matt had overloaded Hugh and Steve could see it was very disconcerting for his friend. Was Hugh a friend now?

"Goodbye, Matt," Hugh said.

Finally, the uncertainty and hesitation ("Mr... Matt") that had marked Hugh's previous efforts to talk about the man who was not their teacher was gone. Steve watched as Hugh stood up, lifted his bag and headed for the Gents toilets.

"Hugh, wait!" Steve said.

Steve had almost been looking forward to the drive home – to talking to Hugh and sharing things. Steve followed Hugh into the empty toilet and they heard the door close behind them.

"You're just going to teleport home, aren't you?" Steve asked.

"Yes. I feel... violated... I need to go... I need to go now!" Hugh said, almost shaking.

"Ok," Steve said understandingly.

He felt disappointed that their time together had come to an end but he shared Hugh's sense of violation. Hugh surprised Steve by stepping forward and hugging him. The embrace was warm but chaste and it lasted a long, long time. This was a season's meeting that they would never forget.

"I can take you with me," Hugh whispered like a kid offering to share his toy dinosaur.

"I need my car, Hugh," Steve pointed out.

"Ok. I understand," Hugh replied.

Hugh stepped back and looked forlorn.

"I know this shouldn't have happened but I'm kinda glad it did. I'm glad we got to be together last night," Steve admitted.

"As am I," Hugh agreed.

There was a pause and Steve was afraid that Hugh was going to vanish from his life.

"I think I might be gay, Hugh," Steve confessed without any preface.

Most other people would have been thrown by the non sequitur but Hugh didn't even blink.

"I know," Hugh replied.

Steve chuckled at Hugh's total lack of surprise.

"I'll call you sometime," Steve said.

"That's nice."

"Goodbye, Hugh," Steve said.

Then Hugh vanished – one moment he was there and the next he was gone. Steve felt very much alone.

Steve stepped outside and returned to where Matt was still sitting.

"Can I have my car keys back?" Steve asked.

Now that he could see the faux memory, Steve could see aspects that didn't even make sense – like a teacher as a chaperone who was driving his student's car. Matt returned Steve's keys.

"I'm sorry for not telling you both the truth. I have trusted others with a far more direct approach," Matt admitted – thinking of Jay and Milo.

"Like the person who implanted those memories?" Steve asked.

Matt nodded.

"Then why the mind games?" Steve demanded.

Matt didn't think Steve would believe him if he said he knew more direct methods of contact would have fail.

"If you believe nothing else, I need you to trust that you and Hugh belong together," Matt asserted.

"Hugh left me to drive home all alone on Christmas Eve," Steve replied. "I don't think togetherness is on his mind to be honest."

"He might surprise you," Matt replied.

"You went to a lot of effort to bring me and Hugh together but you don't mean so we would share our powers with each other, do you?" Steve said insightfully.

"You're going to fall in love with him, Steve, and Hugh will fall in love with you..." Matt revealed. "Nothing is more important."

"I don't even know if Hugh understands what that means. Sounds like a fairy tale," Steve suggested.

Matt shrugged without comment and handed Steve a card with contact details on it.

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Steve."

Despite his manipulation, Steve found himself trusting Matt. Nevertheless, Steve had nothing else to say to the man and he had a long drive ahead of him. Steve left the hotel, leaving Matt to pay the bill and to find his own way home, and climbed inside his car. The night with Hugh had been unforgettable and it brought a smile to Steve's face.

Steve had revealed the secret of his ability, shared a bed and even outed himself to Hugh. Steve settled into his seat to start driving home for Christmas with a thousand memories.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message:

STEVE: [Happy Christmas, Hugh.]

HUGH: [Merry Christmas, Steve.]

Merry Christmas everyone.

TO BE CONCLUDED...

I hope everyone enjoyed part one of the story. It's different from my usual storytelling but I intended to be a sweet holiday romance that introduces two important characters (and more "superpowers") to the Anthologyverse.

Coming soon, in part two:

Steve and Hugh are friends. Steve is cool and popular and an empathic superpower lets him see the hearts on people's sleeves. Hugh is odd and struggles to feel his own emotions, also he can translocate himself and others in the blink of an eye. After parting on the day before Christmas, they find themselves drawn together again. Will the unlikely pair see the New Year together?

Many thanks to the Nifty archivists for posting and hosting these works of fiction. Please donate to keep the active: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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