This story has been a long time in the making. Part1 consists of 19 chapters, not all of which contain any sexual material. Its main characters are teenage boys. The author has not been a teenage boy for a long time and apologises if the dialogue is not always convincing.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com
D'n'M Part1
From Chapter 12:
Inside the bathroom, with his back to the door, his boxers around his ankles and his hand wrapped round his dick, it took precisely fifteen seconds for Milo to cum. Where Zephan had spurted, Milo dribbled. Where Zephan's cum had gathered in his tummy button, Milo's slid down his fingers. Where Zephan would, without doubt, already be asleep, Milo knew he'd be awake for hours, reliving the amazing events of the evening. He also suspected that he'd be jerking off again before being able to get to sleep himself. He wasn't wrong.
Chapter 13.
The journey back home on Monday morning seemed, if anything even longer and more interminable than driving to his aunt and uncle's home the previous Friday. Once again Milo sat alone on the back seat, completely absorbed in his own churning thoughts. On the way there the seemingly unanswerable question had been, `Was he, or wasn't he?' Well, the weekend's events with his cousin Zephan left no doubt that, yes, he definitely was. The new puzzle facing the troubled thirteen-year old was, "How do I live with the fact that I'm gay, without letting it screw up my life? How will D feel about it? Will he still be my friend?"
Dan was the most important person in his life, more than all the members of his family -- his dad, his sister, his mother (yes, definitely his mother) -- and more than all his other friends rolled together. As the miles sped by, taking him ever-closer to the source of his anxiety, Milo convinced himself that there was no way he'd hang on to the central most important relationship in his life once D discovered that he, Milo, liked boys. In fact, that he liked dick. Dan was straight, constantly coming up with new and ever-more unlikely strategies for hooking up with Beth Harper (ugh, those enormous tits!). He played on the school soccer team and liked to hang out with the other young jocks. Yes, D was definitely straight, so what chance was there that he'd so much as give the time of day to an out-and-out gayboy (not that he had any intention of coming out, not until he was at least eighteen and living a million miles away from his mother), let alone want him as his best friend?
This train of thought had the effect of darkening Milo's mood even further so he made a conscious effort to brighten things up, and the best way to do that, without any doubt, was to zoom in on the amazing events of the weekend. Images of Saturday night flashed across his brain like a strobe lighting sequence in a play -- Zephan naked in the shower, Zephan gripping his steel-hard, naked dick, his (Milo's) hand on Zephan's steel-hard, naked dick, cum spurting from Zephan's steel-hard, naked dick. The images went on and on. Just watching them play over again in his head left Milo exhausted. And he hadn't even started on what happened on Sunday night. With ear buds firmly fixed in place, Milo drifted off into a private world of very pleasurable memories.
Jerry de Beer, like his son, spent much of the journey home lost in his own thoughts. Not that there wasn't a lot of talking going on, it was just that, as usual, he was paying virtually no attention to it. He heard the sounds coming from his wife's mouth but made no effort to construct any sort of meaning from them. He knew that any response or contribution he might make would simply be dismissed out of hand. So, as his wife kept up a ceaseless, moaning commentary on the faults and short-comings of his birth family, her dreadful migraine headache, (caused, of course, by that family) and her relief at being on the road back to civilisation, Mr. de Beer allowed his mind to replay the highs and lows of their weekend in the country.
The major high was the day out on Saturday. The trip was fun, the weather stayed fine all day, his wife wasn't there and, best of all, Milo was back to his normal, sunny self. Sadly, after the trip, the weekend had slid inexorably downhill. His wife's `indisposition' had nothing but a negative impact on her general mood and her manner towards everyone else -- a deterioration that barely seemed possible -- and Milo retreated, once again, into teenage moodiness and silence.
In contrast to his son, Jerry de Beer's nephew, Zephan, had been very cheerful and friendly, especially on Sunday before going out to meet his team mates, and again that morning over breakfast. It gave him hope that Milo, too, would eventually emerge from his adolescent cocoon and rejoin the human race.
Something, though kept niggling away at the back of his mind. Yes, Zephan had been affable (except when his aunt was in the room, and who could blame him for that?), and generally good company, except with Milo. Thinking about it now, Mr. de Beer realised that Zephan had not spoken directly to his cousin all weekend, yet Milo's eyes seemed constantly to zero in on the boy every time they were in the same room. Strange, he thought. Something there didn't add up. However, he wasn't able to pursue the thought any further as he felt a sharp pain in his side at the same time as his wife's insistent tone of voice broke through.
"Weren't you listening to me? I said I've got one of my heads and we need to find somewhere to stop so I can get some water to take my medication."
As it happened they were just approaching a service area so Milo's dad was soon able to pull in and stop the car. Milo was shaken back to reality, suddenly ejected from the middle of an enjoyable and very explicit daydream.
Back in the car, his mother loudly complaining about the quality of the drinking water in the, "God-awful dump of a café", Milo reached for his phone and ear buds and was immediately wrapped in the warm after-glow of the weekend's events, particularly those of Sunday night.
All through the day on Sunday Milo had been on edge. Yes, the memory of jerking-off Zephan was never far from his mind (or his dick, which remained in a constant and increasingly-uncomfortable state of excitement the whole day) but they hadn't spoken a single word about it. Zephan had fallen asleep pretty much straight away after cumming and he completely ignored his cousin once they were both awake in the morning. So Milo had no way of knowing what to expect. Having had time to think about it, was Zephan angry? Was he embarrassed? Most importantly, would he bring Milo's whole world crashing down by telling his aunt about Milo, her one and only son, being ... `a faggot'? Milo had no way of answering any of these questions so didn't know how best to prepare himself for any fall-out there might be. Hence the feeling of being constantly on edge.
All day Milo was acutely aware every time he found himself in the same room as Zephan and he couldn't stop himself from repeatedly glancing in his direction. His glances, though, were never returned and that only added to his sense of insecurity. He did, however, notice that his cousin seemed to go out of his way to avoid being anywhere near Milo's mother, so that was reassuring -- sort of.
Finally, immediately after dinner and what must have been the most exhaustingly inactive day of his life, Milo decided to take himself off to the peace and tranquillity of the shared bedroom. Zephan had spent the evening with friends, announcing before he left that he would be back late. One half of Milo desperately wanted to be asleep before he returned. That way there could be no repeat of Saturday's jerk-off action. The other half was equally desperate to stay awake in the hope of a repeat of Saturday's jerk-off action. There were no prizes for guessing which half won.
As he waited for Zephan to come home, the sense of unease he had been experiencing all day returned to Milo with even greater strength. Something about the darkness and a looming prospect of disaster combined to make him feel completely and utterly alone. At any time in the past any such feelings (and they were rare) could easily be blown away by the simple means of walking down the street to D's house. Part of him wondered if that would ever be possible again. He realised with surprise that, for the first time that day, even his hard-on had deserted him.
It was late when Zephan came into the room. It was dark but Milo had had plenty of time to adjust to the low light level so he could see his cousin sit on the edge of his bed and start to take off his shoes and socks. Without bothering to switch on a light, Zephan got up and walked unsteadily to the bathroom. Was he drunk? Milo wondered. The sound of pee hitting the water in the toilet bowl could be heard, before Zephan re-entered the room, stumbling even more than before, due to the fact that his unzipped cargo shorts were gradually sinking down his legs. Zephan managed to make it back to the safety of the bed just as the shorts hit the floor. A few seconds later a big-ticked T-shirt joined them as Zephan subsided backwards.
Silence for a few minutes. Then Milo heard the sound of chuckling -- maybe even giggling - coming from the direction of Zephan's bed. It was barely loud enough to be heard across the room, but quiet laughter it definitely was.
"Are you drunk?" Milo was careful to express his enquiry in a neutral and non-judgemental tone of voice. If Zephan had had too much to drink it certainly wouldn't be wise to antagonise him. There was no immediate answer.
Milo tried again. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," came the laughing response. "I'm fine. Never better."
"Do you want some water or something? It's supposed to make the headache more bearable the morning after."
"No, I won't be getting a headache. I've just smoked a little, that's all. Good stuff it was too."
"Oh. Okay. I hope you're right about the head. Goodnight."
More silence. When, after several minutes had passed and there was no sound of Zephan having fallen asleep, Milo somehow managed to find the courage to ask the question that had been preying on his mind all day.
"So, are you gonna tell my mother?"
"Tell her what?" came the slightly slurred response.
"About me. About me liking boys."
"Well, that depends."
"On what?" Milo didn't like the sound of such an ambiguous reply. He was beginning to get a churning feeling in his gut.
"On what you're willing to do to convince me not to."
"What do you mean?" The churning feeling got worse.
"Come over here and I'll show you."
Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter posted -- ten days of sun, sea and blue skies provided a very welcome break from the grey and damp of autumn. The last few chapters of Part1 will follow over the coming days.
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