All the characters and events in this 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
PJ
D'n'M Part 4
From Chapter 19:
The need to do homework was, of course, just an excuse to get out of the hospital and away from the embarrassment of having been caught by Grey's dad holding Grey's hand. There was also, however, a more genuine reason for Dan to get out of there and that involved a detour via the gym in order to live up to his promise to M to retrieve the dog-tags.
The ride home didn't take long enough for Dan to sort out all the scrambled thoughts caused by the events of the last few hours and days, no, nowhere near long enough. Besides, he knew he wouldn't be able to do that on his own no matter how much time he had. No, he needed help and he knew who from. This time he'd better fucking pick up.
Chapter 20:
"So what are you trying to tell me D, that you're gay?" Tom had picked up and for the last ten minutes he'd been listening to Dan tell him all (actually not quite all) about Tye and Eddy, and about the disastrous date, the technicolour jerk-off, all the Please Call Me stuff, M and Grey and a lot more besides. What he'd left out, mainly because he couldn't really believe it himself and wasn't yet ready to admit it to anyone else, even Tom, was what had happened when he called in at the gym on his way home.
He had been hoping that the retrieval of the dog-tags would be totally straightforward and, actually, that's how it turned out, although he didn't know that as he pushed open the door and suddenly had a horrible realisation that it might be Tye's turn to be on reception duty. Shit! How embarrassing would that be? Of course, Tye wouldn't know anything about being observed while he was fucking Eddy, but Dan would know and how would he manage to keep an innocent-looking face? Relief, then, when he was greeted by Raji whose shift it was. It took only a minute or so for Dan to explain the reason for his visit and for Raji to rummage through the contents of the lost-property box and return with a plain brown envelope with Dan's name written on the front.
He waited until he was back outside before examining the package. A quick feel confirmed the shape of the tags safe inside. With a huge sense of relief, he tore open the envelope with one hand, turned it upside down and let the tags fall into his other hand, but before he could put them back around his neck he noticed that there was something else. It was a photo, obviously a selfie, taken sideways on, of Eddy being thoroughly fucked by Tye. Straight away Dan recognised the scene he'd witnessed in the locker-room just a few days before. Instantly the experience was replaying in his head - Eddy's shorts pulled down below his butt cheeks, Tye's dick thrusting in and out of the eager hole, the sweat, the heavy breathing, the total sexiness of the two of them together, lost in the moment of raw horniness. Within seconds Dan's dick was fully boned-up. Fuck it was hot! He needed to cum. How quickly could he get home? It was then that he turned the picture over to see that there was something written on the back:
Hope you enjoyed the show. Any time you and Milo want to join in, just let us know! T&E.
Shiiit! They knew he'd been there, knew he'd watched them going at it. The blood rushed from his face even faster than from his dick. They knew he'd been there! But how? Okay, obviously it didn't need a detective genius to work out who the tags belonged to, but how could they know he'd gone back to get them at exactly the moment they were getting it on? And that he'd stayed to watch? He looked again at the picture and there, in the background but clear as day, was his face peering round the corner looking directly at the action on the locker-room bench. Fuuuck!
What was he going to do now? How could he ever show his face at the gym again? Tye and Eddy must think he was a total perve, though if they did, why were they inviting him and M to join in? And why would they think he was interested? And why him and M? None of it made sense, though looking again at the photo had blood galloping back into his dick. This was crazy fucked up. With his mind taken up with all these uncomfortable questions, and more or less on autopilot, Dan lifted the hand that was still holding the tags and put the chain around his neck, tucking them down inside his T. Feeling them there, slightly cold and angular against his chest, was totally reassuring. It was almost as if he'd got M with him there in that moment. Tomorrow he'd be able to tell him that they were back where they belonged. Tomorrow he would be back where he belonged, with M.
So Dan made no mention of how come the tags were now lying between his pecs and he certainly said nothing about the photo, but he told Tom everything else that had been going on, looking really anxious and barely pausing for breath. Tom had quickly realised that Dan needed him to listen, not ask questions, which meant that by the time Dan ran out of steam he, Tom, was a whole lot more confused than he'd been at the beginning.
"Am I gay? No. Yes. Oh, fucked if I know. Aagh!" Dan's frustration and confusion were boiling over. "That's why I needed to talk to you. I thought you'd be able to straighten me out." Tom laughed. "Yeah, I know, bad choice of word. But you know what I mean."
Tom said nothing.
"Well, don't just sit there, say something."
"I will. I will. Cool it. Let me think. You're not just asking me to recommend a deodorant or to choose between Vans or Converse you know. Vans every time, by the way."
"To-om!"
"Okay, let me see if I've got this right; you really fancied Christy and getting to touch her tits gave you a massive hard-on. Yes?"
"Yes." It wasn't a memory he wanted to relive.
"But when you thought she was gonna jerk you off ..."
"The hard-on disappeared - yes. You don't have to rub it in." Dan obviously didn't notice the accidental play on words (Tom did) and his mixture of anger, embarrassment and despondency was all too evident in his slumped shoulders.
"And seeing Tye and this Eddy guy going at it really got you excited."
"Yes." Still no mention of the photo.
"But spending time in the gym being photographed by him hadn't turned you on at all, even being virtually naked?"
"Correct."
"And after the date disaster, when you jerked-off at home, it was M's face you saw when you cummed."
"And his body."
"Right. And the counsellor, Mrs., Mrs?"
"Margelles."
"Margelles, right, you think she might have a theory about you being gay."
"She's never said it straight out," Tom grinned again, "But when I go back over some of the stuff she's talked about, I think that's what she's been hinting at."
"Such as?"
"Well, she's got this big thing about being a teenager is when all the stuff you take for granted when you're a kid gets totally shaken up -- all the old you' connections getting disconnected she calls it -- and eventually a new you' turns up with lots of new connections and that can mean that all the old stuff doesn't make sense anymore and the way you feel about things and people can be totally different."
"Okaaay. I think that sorta makes sense." It didn't, at least not completely, but Tom decided it would be no help to Dan if he said so.
"We talked about the messing around we used to do, me with you and with M."
Tom's eyebrows shot up. He wasn't sure he wanted some random counsellor to know about his private business, especially not the sort of business that had included his kid brother.
"It's okay." Dan could see that Tom wasn't happy to hear that his counsellor knew about the TRWDPS, and the rest. "She said it's common. She said it's just big brothers teaching kid brothers about sex stuff. Same with best friends, they try stuff out together, though it's usually just while they're waiting to start dating girls. But not always." Dan's explanation was edging ever closer towards the uncomfortable central issue. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to voice it, not even to Tom.
"But that's not what's really got under your skin, is it? I can tell you're holding out on me."
Fuck! Trust Tom to see straight through him. Deep breath.
"She asked me how I feel about you, if I have feelings for you."
"And what was your answer?" Tom had no idea where this was going, although it sounded like potentially dangerous territory.
"I said of course I have feelings for you, you're my brother and I love you. But I'm not in love with you."
"Sounds like a pretty fair answer to me." A relieved pause. "So that can't be the real problem."
"She asked about M, do I feel the same way about him?"
"And do you? Feel the same? He is the `other brother' after all."
So now it was crunch time. Now Tom was expecting him to face up to the question he'd been desperately trying to avoid. Now he had to be honest with himself.
"Honestly?"
Tom nodded. "Honestly."
"No. No I don't feel the same about M."
"Then what's different?"
"I think ... I think ..." Oh fuck this was hard. "I think I may be in love with him."
Long pause. Dan waited, Tom deliberated.
"You think?"
"Well, how can I be sure? I've never been in love with anybody before. How can you tell?"
"That, little brother, is the 64 million-dollar question."
"Fine, so what's the 64 million-dollar answer?"
"The only person who can come up with the answer is you."
If Tom had been in the same room at that moment, there was a very good chance that Dan would have punched him.
"I'm not trying to duck out but the answer is different for everyone."
Dan was still looking daggers at Tom.
"But there are some pretty common clues."
"Such as?" Maybe Tom was about to tell him what he needed to hear after all.
"Such as, how do you feel when he walks into the room? Such as, do you laugh at his jokes, even when they're not funny? Such as, what do you think when you call him and he doesn't pick up? Such as, how do you feel knowing he's messed around with Grey? Answer those questions and you'll have your 64 million-dollar answer. Now I gotta go -- team practice! You gonna be okay?"
Dan nodded.
"Okay, speak soon. And D?"
Dan nodded.
"You'll know when you know."
The screen went blank.
But that was the trouble, he did know, knew the answers to all those `such as's'. Knew other stuff too, like the finishing of each other's sentences, like knowing what would wind him up and what would calm him down, like knowing what he was thinking, sometimes before he did, like - and this was a sudden realisation that hit him like a stone -- wanting to hold him, to touch him, to kiss him.
Fuuuck!!
If Milo had been worried before that his life was totally messed up, the day that was finally coming to an end had provided all the confirmatory evidence he needed. The whole day, the first one following the surgery on his leg, had been weird, constantly drifting in and out of sleep. He vaguely remembered that both his dad and D had called in to see him but had no real memory of their visits - what time of day it was, what they talked about, how long they stayed. He sort of remembered Nurse Ari telling him, before the surgery, that the anaesthetic would need time to work itself out of his system and he'd probably have a day just like the one he was in fact having while it did exactly that. His periods of sleep brought with them some seriously wacked dreams and memories. Most of them vanished like morning mist the minute he started to wake up but others left unpleasant and unwelcome echoes which hung around until the next time he drifted off to sleep.
Some of the worst of those dreams made him revisit his experiences with Zephan, and at least one replayed, frame by agonising frame, the scene when his mum threw him out of the house, screaming hateful threats and accusations as he fled. With Zephan the images were always of him, Milo, on his knees being viciously face-fucked -- gagging, drooling, gasping for breath -- but with him still (and this is where it got seriously sick and disturbing) begging for more. The dreams all contained at least some thin thread of truth, but all, apart from the one about being thrown out, took that thread and used it to exaggerate and embroider some sort of nightmare scenario.
And then there was the one that hung around way longer than any of the others and which played a big part in making him realise that he had to do something to unmess his life before it became forever unmessable. It was the one that showed a continuous loop of him and D flip-fucking on D's bed, in the locker-room, in the middle of the school soccer field, in fact in just about every place that the two of them had ever spent time together. This dream was definitely not one of those that vanished from his memory as soon as he woke and that meant he had plenty of opportunities to think about it, question it, worry at it.
There were certain basic facts that Milo was sure of: that no-one in his world was more important to him than D; that he, Milo, was gay; that D was straight; that he, Milo, was in love with D; that D could never love him in the same way; that they, both himself and D, were trapped in an inescapable but fundamentally untruthful relationship. And then there were the knock-on effects of these basic facts: that he, Milo, was unable to have any sort of decent relationship with anyone else; that his friendship with D was in danger of falling off a cliff because of the lack of honesty at its heart; that both he and D deserved better. The solution was staring him in the half-conscious face, but doing anything about it would probably be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do, with a very good chance that everything in his life, everything important, would totally implode. With that terrifying thought haunting both halves of his mind he toppled back into sleep again.
This time it was a different dream. It was very late at night. He was lying in bed, not his own bed and not even D's. His movements were restricted, parts of his body feeling trapped and useless. Warm, electric pulses were travelling up and down his body, all beginning and ending between his legs. A feeling very like the one he'd experienced when being blown by Grey was making his dick hum with pleasure and his balls dance in anticipation of discharging a large load. This was good, this was the sort of dream he wanted, so much better than all those others involving Zephan, his mother, even D. Yes, this was the sort of dream he could happily stay asleep for, happily allow himself to get completely lost in.
In a half sleeping, half waking state, Milo knew he was close to unloading big time. His dick-head felt as if it was encased in a warm, damp tunnel being enthusiastically sucked and released, sucked and released, his hips were thrusting and gyrating with a rhythm all their own and his breath was increasingly ragged and shallow. Crap! Please, not a wet dream, not here, not now. How embarrassing would that be? He needed to fully wake up and focus all his powers of prevention on stopping the typically Milo-sized cum which was on the very edge of erupting from his rock-hard dick. Somehow he willed himself from half to complete wakefulness. Hopefully it wasn't too late to avoid the embarrassment of having to explain to Nurse Ari exactly why he needed another sponge bath so soon after the one he'd had just before his surgery. The room was dark apart from the electronic glow of the monitor screen and some muted light seeping in through the small window in the door. Milo noticed these things before he began to realise that yes, he was now awake but, no the feeling of an imminent cum eruption had not gone away. He put his hand under the light blanket and down to where he fully expected to be able to place his dick in a boner headlock to prevent, or at the very least control, the threatened cum explosion.
But he couldn't, grab his dick that is. He couldn't grab his dick because it wasn't available to be grabbed and it wasn't available to be grabbed because it really was in someone's mouth. And Milo knew this because his hand found not his dick but the top of the head of the person whose mouth was so enthusiastically and successfully blowing it.
What the ...! The eruption came before he could complete the thought, five major volleys followed by several minor rounds. It was at least three or four minutes before anything approaching a coherent thought fought its way to the surface of Milo's mind, by which time his dick had been cleaned up and had started to deflate, the mouth had been removed and the blanket was once again ensuring Milo's decency.
"I hope you enjoyed that."
Grey!
"You've been in and out of sleep all the time since you came back from surgery and every time you dozed off you started muttering in your sleep and got a boner so hard it lifted the blanket. I thought you probably needed some relief so I waited until it was lights-out and set to it. You sure had a lot of cum saved up!"
"But ... but ..."
"No need to thank me, I enjoyed it."
"I wasn't going to thank you. I was gonna ask what the hell you think you were doing? Sucking me off in my sleep? That's sick man."
In the slightly blue light of the monitor Milo saw Grey's face begin to crumple.
Crap! He was gonna cry. How insensitive was he? Grey was trying to do him a good turn and all he could do was ball him out. What an ass-hole. The tears began to flow.
"Hey Grey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I was just so shocked." Somehow he needed to make amends." I'm not gonna pretend it didn't feel awesome. You and your mouth have got some serious skills."
A half smile appeared at the corners of Grey's mouth and no more tears formed in his eyes.
Milo needed to go into damage-limitation mode big time. After all, it wasn't Grey's fault that he had chosen to suck Milo off just as Milo had decided on a seriously scary and potentially dangerous course of action with regard to D. It wasn't Grey's fault that he was the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't Grey's fault that he wasn't D. Milo patted his bed, on the side furthest from his recent surgery.
"Come and sit." Grey sat, his handsome face still lit up by the glow of the monitor and still clearly showing the signs of being upset.
"Grey, you know I like you."
Grey nodded.
"I like you a lot."
"But not enough." This was a matter-of-fact statement but said with a catch in the voice.
"I like you a lot and I think I could get to like you even more." Milo saw Grey's eyes widen with hope and expectation.
"But I'll never be able to find out just how much I could get to like you while there's someone else in the picture."
"D." Again matter-of-fact but now without the hope and expectation.
Milo nodded.
"So ...?"
"So until I've sorted things out in my head and then sorted things out with D there can be no you and me."
"Not even friends?" The tears were gathering again.
"Yes, we can be friends."
"But not friends with benefits."
"Definitely no benefits. And believe me, after the way you just sucked me off, that's not an easy thing to say. But I can't be doing things with you while I'm still thinking about him -- I won't do it to you or him and I definitely won't do it to myself, not any more. I don't want my life to be messed up."
While all this was not easy to admit to it was, nonetheless, all 100% true. It was also way easier to say than to have any idea what the crap to actually do about it.
"So what are you gonna do about it?"
Good question. "Honestly I have no idea. How do you tell your best, your closest friend, your other brother, the most important person in your life, Mr. Straight and tits-obsessed, that you're in love with him and always have been? How do you do that without him ending up hating you for lying to him for so many years? How do you survive losing him? How do you ever find someone else to take his place? How?"
Grey's answer to this question within a question within a question was short, concise and completely unhelpful. "Fucked if I know!"
"Then that makes two of us."
"But when you work it out remember that my mouth and my butt will be ready and waiting." Grinning, Grey hopped down onto the floor, placed a gentle kiss on Milo's cheek and went back to his own bed. "G'night."
"Goodnight Grey. Thanks for ..., well, just thanks." There was no reply so Milo rearranged the blanket, adjusted his still slightly sticky dick and settled himself in preparation for going back to sleep. Not surprisingly sleep was a long time coming. Now that he'd spoken aloud about the cross-roads he was facing there was no way that his mind, either half of it, would let him just close his eyes and sleep. Unfortunately, neither half could provide any sort of help in choosing the right course of action. Oh yes, it was obvious which branch of the fork in the road Milo was going to have to take but there was no Lonely Planet or Rough Guide to give advice on how to take the first steps along it. And after all, with broken ribs and a busted leg, he wasn't going to be going anywhere for quite some time so maybe he could stop thinking about it and put off, at least for the next few hours, having to do what he knew he was going to have to do.
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