In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions, using the link https://donate.nifty.org/. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
THE BEGINNING OF ALWAYS
by Marin Giustinian
Inverness, Scotland
Thursday, September 17, 2023
Mr. Paul Campbell, the director of the Regional National Youth Choir of Scotland in Inverness spotted Andy Sinclair coming in.
"Andy, could you come over here please. I want you to meet Alby Sutherland. He's sixteen and has just moved here from Edinburgh where he sang in the Broughton High School choir."
Andy was a strapping young fellow of nearly nineteen. Alby's angelic looks immediately pleased him. Smiling, he held out his hand, "Glad to meet you, Alby."
Then turning to Alby, Mr. Campbell continued.
"Andy Sinclair is our 'star' countertenor -- or male soprano, if you wish. He's quite good in coaching lads who want to be able to sing like him after their voices change."
Alby was charmed by the smile in Andy's soft brown eyes. He politely replied, blushing a bit, "Pleased to meet you too."
Mr. Campbell seemed to be in a hurry to get choir practice underway. He quickly added, "Andy, I've just tested Alby's voice. He's a natural upper tenor as well as a decent alto. We tried to see what was left of his treble... With just a few indications he was able to come up with a very appreciable soprano."
"Congratulations," smiled Andy.
"I'll get to the point. Since it seems that Alby's post-pubescent voice is now stabilised and that a good soprano potential is still there, could you work on eliminating the stress in his higher registers and help him breathe correctly? I don't have time to take on another pupil. Can you do that for us?"
Looking at Alby, Andy replied, "I'd be glad to give it a try, Mr. Campbell... Could I hear him sing a few notes in his soprano voice?"
Campbell replied, "Go to my office and try him out, Andy. I need to get the voice warm-up started with the choir."
Once in the office, Andy again smiled at Alby and asked, "Can you sing me something?"
"I sang some of 'Source of Light Divine' by Handel for Mr. Campbell."
"Very well..."
Alby closed his eyes, inhaled, and let an angel's song flow from his lips. Speechless, Andy joined in with him singing the trumpet's part. Alby beamed.
"I'll be honoured to coach you, Alby," said Andy, putting his hand on Alby's shoulder.
"Thank you very much!" replied Alby, obviously both elated and relieved.
"You're welcome! After the rehearsal, we'll take a minute to organise our first session. Now let's go join the others."
The choir looked at Andy and Alby as they walked in together and sat side by side in the tenor section.
"Choir, our new member's name is Alby Sutherland. He's from Edinburgh. He sang in the Broughton High School Choir. Now he's with us. Like Andy, he has a good countertenor potential. In fact, I've asked Andy to coach him."
Andy nodded. The choir applauded.
"Now back to work!" ordered Paul.
Alby shared Andy's score book for the song they were working on.
"You sight read like a pro," whispered Andy. Alby beamed. It was obvious that he felt comfortable with Andy by his side. At the end of the rehearsal, Paul congratulated his choir, saying, "Stay out of trouble until next week!"
Several other choir members came up to welcome Alby as they were leaving.
As they were going outside, Andy inquired, "Where do you live?"
"Huntly Street, by the river, near the funeral home. My Mum and I have just moved there in a house she found for rent," answered Alby.
"Good news for us! I live on Douglas Row, just on the other side of the river. Are you taking a bus?"
"My Mum drove me. I'm waiting for her now. Do you take the bus?"
Showing his helmet, he said, "I've got my Suzuki 250. Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school. I've started doing remote learning with online tutors in the mornings. I study by myself the rest of the time. My Mum preferred I continue that way instead of having to adapt to a new school."
"You're on level S5, aren't you?"
"Yes. And are you a student in a school or university?"
"Schooling is a thing of the past for me, Alby. Now I'm just taking voice lessons with Mr. Campbell, learning scores, and sailing singlehanded some on the Loch. I keep myself busy..."
With that Laura Sutherland drove up. Alby and Andy quickly exchanged their phone numbers. Alby then said, "I do thank you for your attention. I'm really looking forward to working with you. When can we meet?"
"Tomorrow at three. My house our yours?"
"Ours isn't quite finished with the move..."
"Okay. Meet me at the foot bridge at 3PM. We'll go to my place."
"Perfect... Before I go, come and let me introduce you to my Mum."
Andy was quite impressed by Mrs. Sutherland's very elegant allure. She was in her late thirties at the most, had naturally blond hair, and, like her son, a definite touch of class.
Alby explained, "Mum's a pilot with Loganair," then turning to his mother, "Mum, Andy has just accepted to be my vocal coach in the choir."
"That's really nice of you, Andy. I'm glad for Alby," replied Laura, leaning towards the car window.
"My pleasure, Mrs. Sutherland," responded Andy with a slight bow.
"See you tomorrow, Andy!" exclaimed Alby jumping in the car.
As Andy watched them drive away he put his helmet on, straddled his bike, and left for home. The several seconds of his duet with Alby lingered in his mind.
At dinner with his father, Sean, he spoke about Alby and his new responsibility. Sean simply commented, "That's good for you."
"I think so too, Dad..."
The next day at five to three, Alby was walking from one end of the foot bridge over the River Ness. Andy was coming from the other. They met in the middle.
Andy laughed, saying, "I guess I didn't tell you on what end of the bridge we were to meet. We met anyway... How are you, Alby?"
"Fine and you?"
"Fine... ready to work?"
"More than ever."
They chatted on the way and several minutes later they were in Andy's typical male teen den with view on the River Ness.
Looking out the window Alby smiled, "You see, the house with the bright red door just to the right of the funeral home over there. That's our house. At night I can see if your window's lit or not..."
"So, you're going to spy on me..." jested Andy.
"Ha! Maybe... You can spy on me too if you want. Mum gave me the room on the street. Hers gives onto the back... no traffic..."
"Like my Dad giving me this room. You only talk about your mother. Doesn't your father live with you?" simply inquired Andy.
"I don't have a father..."
Andy gave Alby a blank look.
"Well, I must have a biological father somewhere, but we've never met and Mum doesn't know where he is... It's complicated."
It was obvious that Alby was uncomfortable talking about it.
"You don't have a father at home; I don't have a mother at home. My mother died when I was an infant. In our house, there's just my Dad, me, and Ali. Ali's our cook, house cleaner, and laundryman. Here, it's an all male abode!"
"Your father didn't remarry?"
"No... There's just a passing lady friend or two."
"What does your father do?"
"He's a marine architect, specialised in restoring traditional wooden boats. He does brokerage as well. He's often away on the job, but when he's home, he's all mine!"
"Lucky..." uttered Alby looking out the window.
"Sorry..."
"No problem" replied Alby, "I guess we're starting to have a lot in common you and me with our single parents, our river view rooms, music..."
"That's for sure."
Noticing the picture over Andy's desk, Alby commented, "Nice sailboat."
"Yes. It's the picture of Godspeed, our own 34' replica of an American Friendship sloop. Dad and I take her out on Loch Ness in the summer. She's moored up at the Dochgarroch Locks ten minutes Southwest of here."
"I'd love to sail, feel free, play with the wind. That must be fun..." mused Alby, touching the frame.
"Yes, it's a lot of fun! Ready to work now?"
"Sorry, I often drift off daydreaming like that... I'm ready, Andy."
Andy taught Alby some breathing exercises with the diaphragm. He was all the time touching Alby either on the back, holding his ribs between his hands, or accompanying the usage of the lower abdomen.
"Do you mind me touching you like that?"
"No... In fact it's really nice. Nobody touches me."
After only a few minutes, Alby was breathing deeper than he had ever done. It made him yawn.
"Yawning is good. It relaxes your jaws. Now lick you lips, massage them, as well as your cheeks. How does that feel?"
"Makes me want to yawn even more..."
"Then do it... and then suck your thumb."
"What?"
"Suck your thumb. Stimulate your mucus... Suck and swallow. Mucus is what gives brilliance to the sound of our voices. We males have a lot of brilliant fluids in our bodies: Saliva, mucus in our nasal cavity, our throat, even in our anus. Precum's a kind of mucus too. Believe it or not, all of those slick fluids are a part of the act of singing."
"If you say so, Andy..." said Alby, "but I admit I don't quite understand..."
"Don't try to understand. Release your body as well as your mind. Our bodies are ourselves. We don't 'have' bodies; we 'are' bodies. Often, our cells understand much better than our heads. The exercises we do trigger that understanding. Understand?"
"More or less..."
"Do you enjoy sucking your thumb?"
"Yes!"
"Enjoyment is the body's way of understanding itself, ourself, ourselves."
Andy then took his pitch pipe, saying, "I want you to hum along with me just to warm up our voices a little."
They licked their lips and began to hum. Then they opened their mouths and 'chewed' the sound, moving it around between their jaws.
Then Andy explained how to mentally project the voice, through the body, down towards the perinea...
"The what?"
"The perinea. It's the hammock muscle deep down low. You naturally squeeze it when you have to refrain from an urgent piss. You can locate it if you squeeze the muscles behind your balls, like when you shoot off. Go ahead, cup your sex and massage the bulge in front of your anus. Squeeze and release."
Alby closed his eyes, cupped his sex with a hand, and concentrated.
"There, I feel it," he said giggling a bit.
"What's funny?"
"I'm getting hard..."
"Enjoy! Now sing the first note that comes to mind, imagining that the sound comes out of your perinea."
Alby did as told. The sound was low, round, and hefty. Alby surprised himself. Andy matched the sound with his voice and Alby amplified it. It became vibrant and smooth.
"Now carry on while I sing a higher note and slide your pitch up to your chest. Imagine that the note is singing in your heart."
Alby's voice slid up an octave or so higher, joining Andy's. Their combined sounds resonated in the room. A natural vibrato began to quiver.
"Great! You're doing fine, Alby! Now I'm going to let my voice climb behind my eyes into my skull and fly overhead singing the sound 'e-e-e', nice and sharp. Follow my lead. Let the sound vibrate in your nose. Let it climb as high as it wants. Don't bother about your throat. Keep it relaxed... Good! Now in your mind connect the soprano voice coming out of your head with your heart and perinea. Let the energy in your sex, in your heart, and in your mind all flow together in the pure luminous sound soaring over your head."
Alby was almost there. Then he quacked.
"No problem! We have to accept the chaos in us. It happens when you begin this work. Relax and accept! Welcome all that happens. Let's start again.
After a few more tries, Alby was glowing, standing tall, slightly lifting his heels as if all the weight of his body was leaving him, singing a perfect A5 above middle C, unable to stop.
"Alby, your sound is a light beaming over your head, drawing you upwards... Be careful to not fly off like Peter Pan and bash your head on the ceiling..."
Alby gasped, choking with laughter, and then collapsed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Andy! That was FANTASTIC! In my mind I WAS Peter Pan, a fairy on wing, an eagle. I was a flute, a piccolo, a column of sound, a fountain of song. I'm exhausted!"
"Like after a good wank?" inquired Andy, tousling Alby's blond curls.
"Better than after a wank!"
"That's encouraging! The word soprano comes from the Italian word for 'on' or 'above' or 'over'. Sopra... Keep that in mind when you sing sopra-ano. You're singing above yourself, up there where your dreams are floating."
Alby eagerly nodded, saying, "That I understand!"
"Now that your voice is well tuned, let's make sounds together. Keep the feeling of a fountain of sound flowing from your body as if you were slowly shooting off without stopping."
"Wow!"
"Now I'll sing a note. Dare to sing your own note WITH mine and not necessarily sing the same note as mine. It can be dissonant, harmonious, whatever. Ready?"
Alby nodded.
Andy began by singing a high pitched G. Alby merged in with a very nearby D. Andy then slipped down to a C. The dissonance broke into an overtone. They continued juggling, dribbling, shooting notes together, carefree and reckless, always aware, always attentive. At one point, Alby stopped and began rubbing his temples.
"I'm getting a headache..."
"You'll get over it. It's your brain reacting to all the vibrations in your skull. You must feel a bit dizzy, don't you?" asked Andy, as he gave Alby a strong, long hug.
Andy melted in the embrace, whimpering.
"Are you all right?"
Alby's voice trembled as he replied, "Never been better. It's just that something sort of cracked inside me, in my mind, my head... Andy! Something's breaking up deep down inside, like ice cracking under the sun on a lake. Oh damn! I'm going to cry..."
Andy let Alby sob in his arms and laugh at the same time. Andy knew the feeling... in fact Alby was both happy and weeping as he freed himself from some sort of silent, dried up sorrow. Little by little he gathered his wits, wiped his cheeks with his sleeve, and said, "I'm sorry Andy. I didn't mean to behave like that. Really, I'm sorry."
"Don't be silly, Alby. To sing like you do, you have to let EVERYTHING come to surface and overflow."
"Andy! I'm going to weep again..."
"Oh, no you're not! We've still got work to do!"
Andy cupped Alby's sex in his hand and massaged the perinea with the tip of his fingers, saying, "Make it throb."
Andy contracted and released his perinea smiling. Andy then put his hand on Alby's heart and said, "Give me the sound that's waiting in there to come out."
Alby sang a tenor's G. Then Andy took Alby's head in between his hands and with their foreheads touching, he began to sing a very high D. Alby blended in as they sang the exact same note together triggering a shower of harmonics.
"There, Alby, I think that's enough for today, don't you agree?"
Alby nodded.
"If you feel like it, we can practice some more tomorrow. Are you free?"
"I'm free! When do you want me to come?"
"Can you come at two thirty? We can work until four. Tomorrow, Dad's usually at home on Saturdays. I'd like you to meet him. He's a real gentleman. By the way, do you know Leakey's?"
"Leakey's?"
"Do you like books?"
Alby beamed, nodding.
"Leakey's is the greatest used book store in the world... We can go browsing there together after work. What do you say?"
"Wow, Andy! I'm your man!"
That evening, at the table, Sean asked his son how did his tutoring go.
"I think I did a good job, Dad. I sort of feel proud of myself. At any rate, Alby is really happy with our work and his voice is amazing."
"Interesting..." acknowledged Sean, nodding with a smile. That's all Andy needed, feeling sincerely recognised by his father.
Upstairs in his room, Andy undressed getting ready for bed. He stood nude, looking out the window just in time to see the light across the river in Alby's house go out. He turned his lamp off and on twice, as if to have it say, 'Good night'. Suddenly, the window across the river flashed back.
Strangely happy, Andy spun around and collapsed on the bed. He turned off his lamp, slid under the covers, and laid there, images of Alby came and went. Smiling, he gently fell asleep.
The next day. Alby arrived right on time. Andy introduced him to his father.
"My son said he was happy to work with you, Alby. Please feel welcome in our house."
"Thank you Mr. Sinclair. I'm very happy to work with Andy."
On their way up to Andy's room Alby said, "Your father's a very elegant gentleman."
"He's the best!" replied Andy, opening the door.
As the afternoon sped by, Alby felt totally at ease while Andy guided him to sing without stress. They explored the art of singing 'low pressure', that means letting the note leave the throat on a wisp of air and rise, all by itself. The volume of the note is in its resonance and not in the force of the lungs. Alby's sound was finally full, sensuous, and warm. He no longer felt the erroneous need to affirm something. Alby's relief was deeply moving. The boys congratulated each other with a good 'man' hug.
Andy whispered, "Let's go to Leakey's!"
The former church converted into a used book paradise surprised Alby. Books were piled everywhere, others were lined up on multiple levels of shelves running for seemingly hundreds of yards on the ground floor. Same could be said about the circular balcony above.
"I like the smell in here," commented Andy, thumbing through an illustrated book about boats.
Alby added, "Being surrounded by all these books that other people have read, it's as if we were protected from the harm of stupidity. There they are, waiting to be read again. They seem to be whispering their hopes to each other..."
"Alby, you're a poet. You say things that we think without knowing that we think them. I'm starting to really like you."
"I liked you the first time ever I saw you, Andy... and now I like you even more."
"Thank you..." uttered Andy, blushing a little.
"You're welcome..."
Each one left with a book. They walked in silence back down to the river. Street lights glistened on the rushing black waters. The moment was uncertain, not yet night, no longer day. Alby and Andy walked shoulder to shoulder.
"Am I giving you satisfaction, Andy?"
"A lot. Do you want us to continue?"
"Definitely!"
"Can you some next Tuesday at the same time?"
"No problem!" asserted Alby.
They walked together onto the bridge. Once in the middle, Andy confirmed, "My place at three, Tuesday."
"I'll be there... It's been a fabulous afternoon, Andy..."
"For me too..."
There was a moment of silence as the two looked down at the river flowing beneath, oblivious to the people passing by.
Alby mumbled,"Andy, can we hug?"
"What did you say?"
"I said, can we hug?"
"As much as you want, Alby!" replied Andy, pulling his young friend into a body to body embrace.
They stayed like that for almost a minute. Alby felt Andy's bulge pressing his. Andy pulled back and simply touched Alby's soft cheek. Nothing more was said. They then gave each other a double thumbs-up and turned, beaming as they walked back home.
Sunday morning brunch in the Sinclair house was sacred. Sean and Andy, still in pyjamas, cooked together, each one knowing what he had to do. It was a kind of father and son ritual.
As Andy was smearing his toast with a big blob of country butter, Sean brought up the subject of Alby.
"Your new friend is quite a fine young fellow. Since you met, I'm happy to feel how relaxed and high spirited you are."
"It's wonderful having him with me, Dad. Whatever we do together is both fun and uplifting..."
"Not only because of your music, Andy..."
Struck by what his father just said, Andy thought a second and nodded, "You're right, not only because of our music."
There was a moment of shared silence as Sean winked at his son, then pouring himself a second cup of coffee he asked, "When do you see each other again?"
"Tuesday..."
"Good -- listen, if you think it's a good idea, we could invite Alby and his parents to dinner one evening."
"He lives alone with his mother..."
"Well then we just invite his mother and him one evening soon. I'll reserve a table at the 'Mustard Seed' and then we can come here for after dinner cordials."
"That's a super idea, Dad! I'll call Alby this evening."
"Tell him any day can do... and for us now, since the weather seems to be clear tomorrow, if you want, we can motor over to the loch, check on the boat, and enjoy a good walk along a stretch of the Caledonian Way together. What do you think?" inquired Sean.
Kissing his father on the cheek, Andy said, "That's what I think, Dad!"
Later that evening, Alby's phone buzzed. He saw it was Andy calling.
"Hello Andy"
"Are you busy?"
"No. Anything wrong?"
"No, I'm calling because my father thought it would be nice to have you and your mother to dinner one evening soon and if you accept the invitation, could you give me a date?"
"Wow! Let me ask my Mum. Hold on."
A minute later Alby said, "She would be delighted and said that she had next Wednesday and Thursday off. I said Wednesday evening since we have choir Thursday."
"Hold on."
Andy was back in a moment, "Dad says Wednesday at seven is good for us too. We'll wait for you at the 'Mustard Grain'. Upon arrival, you just ask to be ushered to the Sinclair table."
"Wonderful! We still meet Tuesday?"
"Absolutely!"
The fog didn't lift all day Tuesday. The other side of the river was invisible. Andy decided to go meet Alby on the bridge.
The sequence was like in a film. The two friends saw each other at the very last minute. Both were beaming with squinting eyes and ruddy damp cheeks.
"How's life, Alby?"
"Never been better!"
"Let's go..."
Andy put his arm around Alby's shoulder as they walked, Andy said, "I was thinking we could work on the full version of 'Eternal Source' a cappella. I'd like to ask Mr. Campbell to stay a minute after rehearsal Thursday to hear us"
"Does he sing countertenor?"
"He was a well known countertenor before he gave up concert work to teach and live with his partner, a philosophy professor at the University."
"Really... Mr. Campbell's gay! Cool!"
They went straight to Andy's room, stretched, and did a few scales to awaken their soprano voices. Andy played the first note and Alby began. Then Andy joined him. After ironing out several kinks, they were satisfied with the results.
"You know, Alby, baroque singers would improvise interludes of variations on the theme of their arias. Maybe we could try that with this song. When we finish, I'd like you to carry on improvising."
"Why not you?" replied Alby.
"Scared?"
"Yes..."
"Okay, I'll do it but you have to blend in."
They tried, and it wasn't a total disaster.
"We must work on that too," concluded Andy.
"If you say so."
Changing subjects Andy said, "Alby, I was thinking. You can come to choir with me on my Suzuki Thursdays. Do you have a real warm jacket?"
"I've got a fleece lined bomber pilot jacket..." replied Alby, all excited.
"Let's go now and buy you a helmet, then."
"Is it expensive? I've only a few pounds on me..."
"I'll lend you the money. No problem."
Alby immediately hugged Andy with a kiss in the neck.
Thursday evening, Andy drove Alby to choir practice. Alby loved holding Andy tight by the waist. Andy loved it too.
Just before practice, Paul Campbell said to Andy, "That was quite nice of you to call and ask me to listen to the results of your work with Alby... We'll do that in my office after practice."
When the practice was over, they went with Mr. Campbell to his office. Once inside he asked, "Are you going to sing the score I gave you?"
"Yes"
Andy blew into his pitch pipe, they hummed the first note, and then Alby began 'Eternal Source...'
Time stopped when Andy joined in, singing the trumpet score. Their voices soared in an array of harmonics rarely heard.
Once they had finished, Paul simply said, "Perfect... unbelievably perfect. But glacially perfect as well. It's time that you put, excuse the brutality of the expression, a touch of guts, of balls, of emotion into your voices... both of you. Alby, you're no longer a little boy eager to please your teacher. You're not a grown man either. You're a miracle of flesh and breath made song. I need to hear a bit more flesh and feel the flame of desire in your throat, in your heart, your sex, and above all, in your mind. And you, Andy, now it's about time you go beyond your technical skill. Do both of you understand?"
Alby replied, "I think so, Mr. Campbell. Are you saying that my singing should have a... a certain..."
"A certain fragrance, a scent of life, of body, of love..." exclaimed Campbell.
"Do you mean lust, Mr. Campbell?"
"Exactly! and by the way, stop the Mr. Campbell thing. Call me Paul."
Andy and Alby looked at each other and smiled.
"That's a privilege... Paul," remarked Andy.
"Yes it is," acknowledged Paul, "Now what were you going to ask?"
"Are there exercises to sing the scent of sound?" asked Alby.
"I was going to ask the same thing," added Andy.
"No" bluntly replied Paul.
Alby and Andy looked at each other again, puzzled.
Paul continued, "All you have to do is keep in mind that song is more than sound. You must sing and enjoy things together, make the alchemy between you work. By singing together you're already 'tuned', so to speak. If your souls and bodies follow suit, your music will become sublime."
Having made his point, Paul added, "There, that's enough talking even if what we're saying is essential."
Paul gave them another score to work on: Pur Ti Miro by Monteverdi.
"Can you work together at least an hour or so, let's say four times a week?"
Alby nodded. So did Andy.
"So just do it!"
"I promise we will, Paul! Thank you, thank you a lot!" replied Andy as Alby nodded.
They were back at the bridge in about ten minutes. As Alby was climbing off the Suzuki, Andy said, "I understand that Paul wants us to deepen our bonds. I agree... So, would you like for us to go, just to do other things together, on a little cruise this weekend? We can leave Saturday morning and sail to Fort Augustus, have dinner in a restaurant, spend the night and sail back Sunday."
"Heaven's YES!" nearly screamed Alby.
"The weather forecast is nice. A good wind out of the Northwest."
"What do I bring?"
"Your toothbrush and a change of clothes. Sailing can be wet, whatever the weather. There's bedding and towels aboard. If you don't want to share the berth with me, you can sleep on the bench, but you'll have to bring your own sleeping bag."
"I won't bring a sleeping bag," grinned Alby.
"Tomorrow afternoon, let's meet, take a spin over to the boat, and prepare her for our weekend. Okay?"
"What time?"
"Is two o'clock too early?"
"Not at all... I can't wait! You are the best!" exclaimed Alby, opening his arms.
"WE are the best!"
They shared another very close hug, bade each other good-bye, hesitating an instant before each going his own way.
That evening both Laura and Sean gave them permission for the weekend aboard Godspeed.
Alby called Andy, "It's fine for me! Mum is quite happy about us doing something together, just for the fun."
Andy laughed replying, "Same for my father. See you tomorrow. The fine weather seems to be holding out. I'm really excited about us sailing together."
"This will be another discovery for me, Andy. With you, every day is a discovery!"
"How sweet of you to say that," softly remarked Andy, feeling all warm inside.
"It's true! Take a look at my window. I'm going to flash you my good night wishes!"
Alby flashed his lights twice. Andy replied flashing several more times. Alby did even more. Both laughed on the phone.
"Alby, you're such fun!"
"And you, Andy, you are... are very important to me..."
The Caledonian Canal was completed in 1822. It linked Inverness to Fort William. Godspeed was moored just above Dochgarroch Loch on the canal before entering the long open body of water called Loch Ness.
Alby was terribly excited holding on to Andy as they sped up the road to the lock. He felt the vibrations of the motor in his arse and the heat of Andy's buttocks pressing on his cock. He laid his head on Andy's shoulder enjoying the speeding intimacy of their ride.
For Alby, the ride was over way too soon.
"There she is, Alby. Godspeed is the sailboat with the black hull and bowsprit."
"She's absolutely beautiful!" exclaimed Alby, grabbing Andy by the arm.
"I hope you'll feel good aboard. I'm more at home on Godspeed than in my own room. Come on, let's open her up."
Inside, Alby discovered a simple, traditional boat cabin. It was panelled with teak. The skylight overhead spread its glow on the polished copper oil lamps, the small enamelled wood burning stove to port and a nice pantry and rudimentary galley starboard. There was a central mahogany table, flanked by two benches and beyond the foot of the mast, a large double berth was nested in the bow.
"Take a look around. If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask. I'm going to check the bedding hoping it's not too damp."
"I've just one question. Where's the bathroom?"
"On a boat, it's called a 'head'. There isn't one aboard. To wash up we heat a kettle of water and sponge bathe wherever we want. At anchor in the summer we do it outside if there's nobody around. When it's chilly we do it by the stove. There's a lidded bucket with a rope tied onto the handle stashed behind the companionway ladder. We use it when we can't piss overboard or if we have to do a 'pooh'. We dunk the bucket in the water, fill it halfway, sit and do it. The contents usually emptied in a public toilet, if there is one nearby, or end up in the loch."
"Very limited privacy..." mumbled Alby.
"With only menfolk aboard why waste space for physical privacy?"
"I don't know what it's like to have only men around."
The boys fluffed the bedding in the sun. Andy showed Alby how to polish the lamps and trim the wicks. Andy cleaned out the pantry, checked the motor, then hoisted the sails to check the halyards. Afterwards, they stashed everything the way it should be done and sat facing each other at the table.
"What do you think?" asked Andy.
"I'm at home too..."
"Wait until you hear this!"
Andy took a deep breath and sang a few measures of 'Nisi Dominus'. The whole boat resonated as if they were in a violin.
"Goodness! That's amazing," marvelled Alby.
"It's the seasoned teak panelling. Give it a try."
Alby began 'Eternal Source'. When Andy sang with him, Alby's eyes teared up...
"You see why this is where we should work on our duets."
"Good God, yes!"
"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning. I'll make us some sandwiches..."
"And I'll bring apple pie..."
"We'll cast off before eight. There's tea aboard. Tell your Mum we'll be back Sunday evening, let's hope before dinner!"
"She'll probably have me call every hour!" jested Alby.
"No way!" said Andy, wide-eyed.
"I'm joking..." said Alby, "but not that much..."
They went by motor down the canal and then into the loch three miles out. There was an ideal breeze out of the northwest. They hoisted the sails; Godspeed heeled and picked up speed.
"Andy! I'm in heaven!" shouted Alby standing in the bow.
They clipped along nicely. During the morning, Andy taught Alby the basics of sailing. He learned fast. It was obvious that the lad was at ease sailing. Andy was charmed as he watched Alby move around on deck like cat. He had never felt that much attachment to anyone before. Deep inside, he was dreading and yet lusting to be in bed with Alby, imagining all the possibilities of what could and might happen. There was definitely a gay connection there... It's just that they were both total novices.
Alby took the tiller while Andy made tea for lunch. They enjoyed the sandwiches, then some pie together. In early afternoon, the wind turned to the south and increased in speed. Sailing became a bit more sportive as they pulled in the sails on a close reach. Splitting the wavelets, spray dampened their faces. Alby loved it. At one point he came up to Andy with red cheeks and moist cherry lips, his eyes gleaming. He grabbed Andy's hand and put it on his sex declaring, "Feel that! I'm hard as a hammer handle! This is FABULOUS!"
Andy turned crimson red. His heart skipped a beat as he squeezed Alby's cock. Godspeed's bow was spitting drops of foam. Alby in turn rubbed Andy's stiffy through his jeans as well.
"Don't you think this is getting to be a bit too gay, Alby?"
"I am gay!" asserted Alby.
Andy laughed out loud, "Me too!"
Alby popped the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper, giving Andy free access. Andy yanked Alby's jeans and undies down. Sun glistened in the precum dripping from Alby's half uncovered glans. Alby unbuckled Andy's jeans and did the rest to free Andy's cock.
Laughing with total abandon, they stroked, squeezed, and thrusted.
"Alby, your cock is marvelous! It's perfect in my hand. Just the right size and your balls are as cute as can be!" panted Andy.
"Yours is gorgeous, too. Makes me thirsty!" replied Alby, falling on his knees, smearing Andy's precum on his lips.
Andy trembled as Alby licked, wanking him faster and faster. Then the inevitable explosion. Andy filled Alby's eager mouth with shot after shot of creamy cum. Then he slumped. Alby stood, took the tiller as Andy knelt and sucked. It was such a natural thing to share clipping through the wavelets. A minute or two later Alby's semen shot directly into Andy's throat.
Godspeed slightly bucked in the growing waves. Alby and Andy, for the first time, kissed, rubbing their deflating cocks together.
Pulling their jeans back up, Alby said, "We needed that, didn't we?"
"Yes, we really did."
"What next?" grinned Alby.
"I'm inexperienced."
"Me too... So we'll just do what we feel like!" deduced Alby.
"And create what we feel our way!"
"Yes, Andy! Our way."
It was four thirty in the afternoon when they tied up at the dock in Fort Augustus. Andy brewed some more tea. They sat at the table, smiling at each other, feeling no need to speak.
Alby broke the silence saying, "Are you happy, Andy?"
"Very happy..."
"I was wondering how we would finally enjoy each other that way, express our needs and our hearts' desire. Then you made it happen."
"Nature made it happen."
"Yes, you're right... Nature."
They stripped, changed, and went for a stroll, then to the Boathouse Restaurant for dinner.
"Glad to see you again, Andy. How's your father?" inquired the owner as he greeted the lads.
"He's fine. I'm now on a weekend with my mate, Alby, here."
"How was sailing? Not too gusty?"
"It was lovely!" replied Andy winking at Alby.
"Where would you two young fellows want to sit?"
Andy pointed to the table in the corner, saying, "Over there, please."
The owner gave them the menu and asked, "What are my handsome young fellows going to drink?"
"Could I have a pint of Guinness and a half pint of the same in a Coca-Cola glass for my mate?"
"No problem"
They decided on lamb stew with potatoes and a salad each.
Andy raised his pint and said, "Here's to coming events!"
"Is that a pun, Andy?" giggled Alby.
"Maybe..." grinned Andy.
"Hear, hear!" toasted Alby raising his glass to clink with Andy's.
Later during the meal, Andy inquired, "Alby, can you tell me why you left school for home learning?"
"Because Mum and I were moving to Inverness..."
"Is that the real reason?"
There was a moment of silence. Alby looked out the window onto the loch, then looked at Andy, and stated, "No."
"I'm asking because I dropped out of school for personal problems myself."
"For me, it's because I'm gay. There were three pimple faced thugs who bullied me all of my last year of school because I was seen walking hand in hand with a good friend on Holyrood lawn. They called me poofter, bufty, pervert. They even ripped my shorts off and beat me up in the locker room. They hit me. I fell on the concrete floor. I was bleeding, shivering half naked, curled up at their feet as they laughed. Thank God, the gym teacher came in and caught them hurting me. They were expelled only for a week. My Mum, furious, made a scandal, threating to report what happened to the police. The headmaster said that wouldn't change a thing. She grabbed me by the arm and together we stormed down the hall and out of school forever. She decided that it was best for me to be home taught. Then she asked to be transferred to the Loganair base up here... I'm glad."
"Guess what! I suffered a similar situation. I dropped out of school because I was bullied too. I had refused to let my gym teacher fuck me in his office. I gave him a kick in the balls that I'm sure he still remembers. As he was moaning, I escaped into the hallway. By pure vengeance he spread the word amongst the teachers that I, the student, had tried to rape him, the brawny Gym Teacher. Life became hell. Mind you, being fucked isn't the question. The question is how, with whom, and why, but not like that, in a smelly locker room with a hairy, stinky, body builded goon I did not love and even less, admire ... No WAY!"
"Don't you think that the fact that we can sing soprano makes them want to torment us..."
Andy replied, "Maybe. Gays are always in trouble somewhere... If they sing soprano, well... You see what I mean. When I told my Dad that I felt like I was gay, the first thing he said was, 'Be careful'. He was right."
They continued eating like ogres, cleaning their plates. Then, they indulged in a big, gooey dessert. With the help of Guinness and full bellies, they were in seventh heaven.
"Put the bill on my father's account. It was absolutely delicious, as always!" stated Andy as they were leaving hand in hand.
That evening, they bathed each other, then cuddling nude in the berth Nature guided them through a sumptuously sensual and meaningful sixty-nine finishing in a mind-blowing climax in unison. After a long immobile moment, Andy pulled Alby up into a very tender hug. They kissed. Then Andy softly whispered, "We must remember this night. It's the beginning of always."
Enlaced, and fell deep asleep.
Dawn had not yet broken. Alby slid under the covers and began nursing Andy's plump cock. Andy sleepily caressed Alby's curls, deeply moved by the magical awakening he was experiencing. Unlike the night before, all was calm, peaceful, and silent. Andy felt his semen slowly churning deep down inside. Alby's tongue massaged the slippery glans; he sucked on Andy never bobbing his head, never squeezing the shaft. He sucked calmly, knowing he would be quenched in due time. Andy began to whimper a bit as his semen rose. Alby sucked deeper and deeper feeling Andy's cock throb in the back of his throat. Gush after gush of creamy semen satiated his thirst for Andy.
Silence.
Andy slid out of the berth, followed by Alby, both braving the chill topside. Pissing into the shimmering moonlit waters, their abundant streams fenced, playing together, splashing as far away as possible.
Andy whispered into Alby's ear, "I'm thirsty for you too..."
Alby dashed back down into the cabin and scrambled under the fluffy duvet on the berth. Andy slipped in alongside and kissed his way down to Alby's perfect sex. His lithe body writhed with pleasure as Andy buried his nose in the boyish scent of Alby's pubic curls. Andy inhaled its musky fragrance. His tongue found the drooling tip of Alby's slender cock. It invited Andy to indulge, inviting Alby to fill his throat, to fulfill his heart's desire. Andy now needed to drink Alby's fluid essence, swallow his offering, partake in communion with him.
Alby felt no stress. As Andy sucked, Alby began feeling an unprecedented light rising from within, matching the dawning light slowly glowing in the skylight overhead. A sheen of perspiration adorned Alby's forehead. He shivered, then gasped, his sweet semen flowed. Satiated, Andy emerged. Alby discovered his scent on Andy's skin, the taste of his semen in Andy's kiss. The unutterable power of loving and being loved in love slowly took form between them both.
"Andy... Listen... Can you hear your heartbeat?"
"I only hear yours..." whispered Alby.
"You mean ours."
"Yes, that what I mean."
Warm tears of joy brimmed in his eyes gazing into Alby's. That shared moment of silence was full of meaning. Laying body to body, savouring each other's presence, Alby's stomach suddenly growled. Andy tickled it saying, "Hush!"
Alby burst out laughing, grabbed Andy's balls, and threatened, "DO NOT TICKLE!" His teenage stomach growled again, making them both nearly howl with laughter.
Andy managed to say, "I think it's about time for some 'more' breakfast, don't you?"
"Yes!"
Andy lit the stove and put the kettle on. They straightened up the cabin, used the bucket, brushed their teeth and with the warm water, tenderly bathed each other again. They dressed, found a café open up by the locks, and enjoyed a full Scottish breakfast under the tender smile of the barmaid.
Another wonderful day was theirs.
Sailing away, they sang 'Pur Ti Mio'. The notes rose, greeting the morning sun. The sound of their melding voices vibrated, almost glowing.
On the way, Alby replaced Andy at the tiller and declared, "I'd really like us to live together, Andy. I don't know how nor when, but I want it! And you?"
"Does a bird want to fly? Does a flame want to dance? Do I want to live with you like we live here and now? YES! Since both of us want the exact same thing, let's not worry. There's always a way, always," affirmed Andy.
Alby thought a moment and then asked, "When do we tell our parent?"
"After dinner Wednesday."
Alby's phone rang. It was Laura calling to have news. Alby told her he had never been so happy.
The rest of the day flowed by as they lazily tacked back, finishing the trip by motor.
Once secure at her berth in Dochgarroch Lock Godspeed was correctly closed up. The two lovers climbed onto Andy's Suzuki and sped back to the bridge.
Saying good-bye was hard. They remained for a long moment in a hug, dared a quick kiss, and repeated again, "Tomorrow afternoon at two at your home, Andy... in your room."
"Yes, tomorrow... Love you, Alby."
"Love you too, Andy..."
Monday afternoon, Alby was boiling over with impatience. Andy went down to open the door. They kissed like mad, scrambling up the stairs two steps at a time. Slamming Andy's door behind them, they grabbed each other laughing. They spun around twice and fell on the bed. Jeans were yanked down, opening way to a rather savage sixty-nine. They orgasmed together drooling. They caught their breath, licking his lips.
Alby declared, "Sex makes us sing even better!"
"Loving and singing are the same thing for us now..." added Andy, zipping up his pants.
Alby was taking a long look at the picture of Godspeed when Andy said, "Can I ask you something, Andy?"
"Of course..."
"When you said, "We must remember this night because it's the beginning of always," were you serious about 'always'?"
"Yes I was. Why?"
"Always is a very... very long time... Maybe you'll get tired of me, find somebody else... We've only known each other for a fortnight or so... I don't know why I ask, but what we're living is just so... so..."
"So magical!" interrupted Andy looking at Alby with infinite tenderness, "Always is not long enough to make me want to leave you. Sure, we'll both die one day... but Alby, don't be afraid of loving as long as we're not dead. Only fear can cripple the 'always' of our togetherness, our love, our power."
They sealed that certitude with a meaningful kiss. With lips still touching, they began humming, then singing a few scales and suddenly, Monteverdi's song surged from their throats, filling the room with the beauty of total trust in life, in love, in themselves.
Stunned by the subtle power of their song, Andy said, "Let's sing that again!"
"Okay!"
It was even better.
"Let's call Paul. We must to sing 'Pur Ti Miro' for him. He's the one who asked for it. We must know what he has to say."
Paul told them to come by the next day at three.
Paul simply said, "Amazing, absolutely brilliant... You should put together a concert programme. I'd be more than happy to help you. Music needs you. I need music... I need you. It's not complicated at all! Now you must work a lot... and even more than a lot."
Standing shoulder to shoulder, Andy and Alby listened to Paul as they breathed in his words.
"Correct me if I'm wrong. You are in love and loving it..." stated Paul, tilting his head.
"Very much so..." replied Alby.
"Body and soul," echoed Andy.
"There's the flesh and fragrance I was hoping for... and what's even more miraculous is that it's authentic. It's for real," declared Paul.
"Thank you, Paul!" said Andy.
"You're welcome. By the way, Alby, I need to hear a bit more faith in your singing."
"Faith?"
"Yes, faith. Have faith in your feelings, in your heart, and above all, in your mate. Making love together kindles that faith. So no turning back. Listen to me, you lusty angels, you just need to DO IT. Sing and make love together. Leave behind the worries, about security, needless studies, and all the other rubbish. Am I clear?"
"Very clear!"
"Now give me a hug. I've got more work to do."
Laura and Alby showed up fashionably late at 'The Mustard Seed'. They were shown to the Sinclair table in a remote angle upstairs. Sean had already a bottle of white sparkling Portuguese wine waiting in an ice bucket. As their guests arrived, Sean and Andy rose to greet them. Andy held the chair for Laura. They sat. The waiter put the appetizers on the table and served the wine.
"This is absolutely lovely, Sean... May I call you Sean?"
"Only if I can call you Laura."
Alby and Andy shared a smiling wink.
"Ever since their little weekend cruise, Alby is in heaven. I don't know what you did together, Andy, but whatever it was, you can carry on!" stated Laura.
Andy and Alby blushed.
"Same for Andy, Laura..." added Sean, "Let's raise our glasses for our lads' budding friendship!"
"Budding, did you say, Sean? I say it's solidly established," asserted Laura.
The boys stifled a giggle.
"I agree! Cheers everybody!" exclaimed Sean, raising his glass.
"Cheers!" echoed the boys and Laura.
Alby coughed a bit as he sipped.
"You'll get used to it later, Alby," laughed Andy.
"Don't push him," winked Laura.
Sean and Laura shared some small talk after glancing at the menu.
The waiter returned. The boys had attentively studied the menu and placed their orders while their parents were still making up their minds.
During the meal, both Sean and Laura had their sons talk about their music, their cruise, their feelings one for the other.
"After the meal, we'll go over to our house for cordials and have our boys sing for us... that is if you two agree?" suggested Sean.
"Yes, yes, yes!" clapped Laura.
"With pleasure!" replied Andy as Alby nodded, smiling.
An October chill had fallen on the river as they walked in the rising fog to the Sinclair home. Inside, the living room was warm. Ali had prepared the fireplace. Sean lit the kindling as Andy brought in a tray of after dinner cordials and a bottle of rare Abelour.
"My favourite whisky," comment Laura, now feeling quite at ease.
"We share the same tastes, Laura," suavely echoed Sean.
"Your living room is absolutely charming. I feel guilty to not have correctly taken care of our house since we arrived... Not enough time..."
The kindling was flaming. Laura and Sean settled down together on the sofa. Alby sat on the facing sofa as Andy served whisky to Laura, then to his father. Like Alby, he refrained from drinking, saying he wasn't thirsty. Before Andy could sit, Laura said, "Boys, we want our private concert before drinking too much..."
"Alby, let's go upstairs to warm up our voices."
They left their parents chatting as they climbed the stairs. Inside Andy's room, they gave each other a big thumbs up and made out like mad.
"Remember what Paul told us, Alby..."
"I haven't stopped thinking about it since yesterday. Let's go... I love you, Andy!"
"I love you, Alby."
When the boys entered the living room, their parents immediately stopped talking. The silence was quite impressive. Alby looked at Andy and winked.
"Laura, Dad, we're going to sing two duets. The first one is by Handel, composed for the birthday of the Queen Ann, entitled 'Eternal Source of Light Divine'. Normally it's for a soprano and a trumpet. Mr. Campbell transposed the score for us. Alby sings the lead and I sing the trumpet. Afterwards, we'll sing 'Pur Ti Miro' from the opera 'The Coronation of Poppea' by Monteverdi."
Laura and Sean exchanged a smile. Then Sean nodded as if to say, "You can now begin."
Andy pitch piped the first note and Alby began singing a cappella. Andy blended in. Together they sang, looking into each other's eyes. The moment was breathtaking as their voices became ethereal. When the song was over, neither Sean nor Laura moved. Tears were brimming in Laura's gleaming smile. She then looked at Sean. He nodded, stood, and held open his arms. Laura followed suit. Both sons melted in their parents embrace.
"I guess you'll softly make us faint now with the Monteverdi..." jested Sean, obviously moved, hugging Alby as Laura took Andy in her arms.
Sean and Laura returned to the sofa and sat a bit closer together waiting. Andy gave the first note. When the song took wing, their voice were no longer that of two young mortals. Angels of lust had taken possession of their flesh.
In the silence that followed, the lads found their parents sitting shoulder to shoulder, stunned.
Alby uttered, "So?..."
"Oh my God! I'm overwhelmed. Really over... WHELMED!" declared Laura.
Sean wiped the tear off his cheek, took a sip of his whisky, and said, "I too am dumbfounded. I can't find words, so I'll just say that I'm extremely proud of what you've accomplished in such a short time. It's a miracle."
Alby and Andy stood there, looking awkward, not knowing what to do. Then Alby whispered to Andy, "Do you tell them about us or do you want me to do it?"
"You do it, Alby."
"Okay... Uh...Mum, Mr. Sinclair..."
"Alby, my name's Sean!"
"Very well... Uh, Sean... you both know Alex and I share a passion..."
Sean and Laura nodded.
Shuffling on his feet, Alby swallowed, took a deep breath, and continued.
"But now, we are more than friends and the passion we share is more than for music. Mr. Campbell said we could already become professional concert artists... together. That's normal because we are now..."
Alby looked at Andy.
"Because we are now lovers. We are in love with each other. We are in love with each other more than we can say. Your gay sons have found each other and want to live together. That's what we want to say."
Andy came up beside Alby and took his hand. Laura was at a loss for words. Her lips moved but nothing came out. Sean took her by the arm and stood.
"Lads, thank you! Now I want you to kiss each other, then come over to us so we can kiss you each."
Andy took Alby in his arms. Their fervent kiss was love itself. A gleeful moment of mass confusion followed with kissing going on everywhere. In the rejoicing, Laura and Sean even stole a furtive kiss as well.
As things finally calmed down, Laura returned to the sofa. Sean joined her. Andy and Alby sat on the carpet at their feet.
Sean spoke, "Now let's talk business."
The boys listened.
"First of all, If I understand correctly, you want to concentrate on a musical career, singing countertenor together. Correct?"
The boys nodded.
"I approve. And you, Laura?"
"It's obvious that they have the talent. I can only say yes."
"Do I understand that Mr. Campbell thinks you should already put together a programme in order to propose your work to places where you can do concerts on your own. Correct?"
"Correct"
"Good... Now I presume, for obvious reasons we do not need to discuss, you want to live together and also work together in peace, whenever you feel like it. Am I right?"
"Yes," confirmed Alby.
"So here's my conclusion. According to Andy, Alby said he could live aboard. Is that exact, Alby?"
"Yes"
"I know that Andy has always said he wanted to live on the boat. Therefore, I will give you Godspeed under one condition. If after having lived and worked together aboard during the mid-term holiday next week, you still want to continue as a couple living such frugal condition and supposing that you want to carry on singing in the choir and deepen your work with Mr. Campbell, you can move aboard. You must work hard on your concert programme and on the promotion of your talent. If things go the way you plan, I'll assure Andy of an income over the years necessary for your duo to become a money-making job. I've spoken. Now Laura, what do you have to say?"
"They have to try to succeed both challenges, song and couple... What you propose is perfect as far as I'm concerned. I too shall always assure Alby of an income until he's able to pay his own way like you do with Andy... Now, boys, I'd like to hear what you two have to say," clearly stated Laura.
"Mum, your love for us is...is..." Alby was so moved he couldn't finish his sentence.
"Laura, Dad, your love and generosity are simply... WONDERFUL! You are wonderful parents and wonderful persons!"
Laura spoke.
"Andy, I don't know if we're wonderful or not. All I know is that I've suffered and I can't bear anything that could make Alby, and now you, suffer. I want to be totally clear with you. I think it would only be honest to fill you and your father in on a little background. Alby was an unexpected gift I received from a crime, a miracle hidden inside a night of horror. Andy, Sean, you know that Alby's father is never mentioned. It simple. I don't even know who he is."
Laura's voice trembled as she spoke. The moment was intense.
"Andy, I need another shot of whisky, please."
Laura took a sip and continued.
"When I was eighteen, I went with my two best girlfriends on a summer holiday to France. We met up with five extremely handsome young Swedes on holidays together as well in Paris. One evening we partied and drank too much. My friends vanished each with one of the guys. I remained alone with three very drunk young males. To make a long story short, I was raped by all three. They destroyed me. Of course, I said nothing to my parents once back in Glasgow. Two and a half months later I found out I was pregnant. I told my parents how it happened. They wanted me to abort. I refused. They banished me. Do you get the picture? I struggled on my own the best I could. My grandmother took Alby and me in and financed my pilot's license. Now Alby is on the verge of adulthood. All I want for him is his own happiness but last year his happiness was endangered simply because he's gay and didn't hide it. Last year, he was bullied and beaten up at school. When I learned that he was hurt, I went out of my mind with anger. I was like a mother tiger. I was hurting for him, hurting with him."
Laura took another sip and then flashed a beautiful smile.
"Now, I'm out of my mind with happiness for him and for you too, Andy... and I hope for you, Sean, who fostered such a marvellous son."
Andy and Alby sat leaning on each other, head against head. There was a long rich silence as Laura's words sunk in. Sean spoke.
"Laura, thank you from the depth of my heart for your frankness. I know exactly what you feel for Alby and the injustice of him being the victim of cruel stupidity. You say you hope I'm happy... I'm elated! And I too know what suffering is. You have been honest and open with us, Laura. I shall be just as honest with you. I had a twin brother. We shared everything. I still remember him, his smell, the sound of his laughter. If ever on earth there were two brothers who loved each other, they are Roy and I. When we were ten, during the Easter holidays, we were staying on our grandparents farm in Wilkhaven. We used to go and play on the old pier, especially when the big waves crashed on the rocks. One afternoon of windy weather, we adventured out to the end of the pier. Of course it was forbidden... but... well, we went. A wave, much bigger than the others hit us. Roy was swept off the pier. He screamed fighting the waves. He was bashed against the rocks. There was blood, then nothing. The scene still haunts me thirty years later. I was sent to boarding school and my parents divorced after that. I don't know how to forgive them. We haven't spoken nor seen each other in close to twenty years. I hoped that the curse on me was broken when I married Margie. We were so happy together, living in Ullapool. Andy was born. He was just three months old when the police found me at the boatyard where I worked up on Loch Broom. Margie had been hit by a drunken driver while she was strolling on a lane with Andy in his pram. She was killed on the spot. The babe was spared. Those two fatal accidents killing my most beloved, made me afraid of everything. I was scared every instant for my infant son."
Sean took a long, loving look at Andy.
"Years later, when Andy told me he was gay, and that he had to fight off his Physical Education teacher who wanted to abuse him, my fear caught up with me. I was, like you, out of my mind... and helpless facing the police. I really was angry, able to kill just to protect Andy from the thousands of evils prowling out there in this evil, sick world... I was scared out of my mind for my boy."
Sean cleared the emotion in his throat.
"Now, I see him supremely happy, singing like an angel, loved by another angel he furiously loves as well... his real love. Now, I know he's blest from above. His young boy-uncle Roy and his mother are looking after him. All the misfortune we've endured, Laura, has dug into the space of our lives, opening our souls so they can contain unexpected joys and steadfast happiness. Like you, Laura, I can't consider myself as 'wonderful'. You and I are just trying to put things -- how can I say -- No, KEEP things in balance."
Alby crawled up on the sofa and cuddled up to his Mum. Tears were swelling in Andy's eyes as he walked over to the fireplace and leaned face down on the mantle. Sean came up to him, took him by the shoulders. They stood face to face.
"I'm okay, Dad... It's just that with all that's happening, all that's being said, it's almost too much for me... There's so much hurt in the world and yet there's so much love, so much beauty, I'm... I'm... I don't know."
"The mystery of being alive is made of all that, my son. You are alive and wonderful. You and Alby are the wonderful ones! Everything's going to be wonderful for you two. Believe me!"
"I always believe you, Dad."
Alby rose and went over to Andy. Sean stepped back letting them hug. Alby then returned to the sofa and said, "Mum, can we go home, just tonight?"
"Don't you want to stay with Andy?"
"Mummy -- Andy and I have the rest of always to share, but now I need you to tuck me in. I hope you don't mind, Andy. I'll call you in the morning."
"Of course I don't mind but what about your school work tomorrow morning?"
"I'm going to stop schooling. We've got too much work to do. Now I'm exhausted!"
While Laura and Sean spoke together in the entry, Andy and Alby stood holding each other in silence. All was said.
Andy was turning the coals over in the fireplace when his father came back in.
"Son, how are you, now?"
"I'm fine, Dad -- I was just realising how lucky I am being your son, having Alby in my life, and how dead tired I am right now."
Laughing, Sean replied, "I think a good shower and a goodnight kiss can make you feel even luckier... Don't you, Andy?"
"Oh! my God, Dad! YES!"
No windows blinked that night... Only pure love spanned the misty river as it flowed, never stopping and yet always there... Always.
On October 7, Sean drove his 'sons' to the boat. They planned to be gone until October 19. They had adequate clothing, food galore, and a 12 volt phone charger.
It took them a full day to half-way sail, half-way motor to Fort Augustus, pass the locks and drop anchor in the isolated cove by the canal just before Kytra Lock. Alby prepared a rich vegetable stew, put the bread and cheese on the table, and uncorked a bottle of Chianti while Andy took care of furling the sails, lighting the lamps, and stoking the fire in the stove. The cabin lamps glowed filling the space with a soothing light. Alby and Andy were serene, happy, and famished.
"You're a super cook, Alby," complimented Andy.
"My grandmother taught me how to cook for Mum and myself when I was younger. When Mum would come back from a flight, she enjoyed me having the table set and the food ready. I enjoyed it too."
Once the dishes were done, they went topside to pee and take turns sitting on the bucket in the fog. Then, back inside they gently washed each other, paying special attention to their patient erections. Little was said; everything was understood. The silence they shared was rich in expectations. Nature was at work.
Outside a gentle rain had begun to fall. They could hear it pitter-pattering on the skylight overhead. The stove glowed as Andy blew out the lamps, lit a candle by the berth, and crawled under the duvet, cuddling up to Alby.
They took their time delighting each other with their lips, their caresses, and the melding of their bodies, as they slowly moved over and under each other, legs entangled, cocks leaking.
Alby kneaded Andy's buttocks, his fingers wandering, tantalising the twitching anus. Andy hummed and returned the pleasure.
"Do you want me in you?" softly inquired Andy.
"I want you now!" replied Alby with a hushed voice.
"I don't want to hurt you..."
"Just do me gently, open me. We have all night and even the day for loving all the ways we want."
Alby rolled over on his frontside and raised his rump up to meet Andy's mouth. Andy feasted on Alby's velvet rear, prodding the tiny aperture with his tongue, his finger, bathing it with slick saliva. Andy then smeared the opening hole with his generous precum and inserted two, then three fingers. Alby writhed with impatience. His innards were craving Andy's entry, starving for their reward of semen.
Trembling, straddling Alby's knees, Andy placed the tip of his glans on the winking hole. Alby pushed back. Andy gasped as his cock slowly slid inside. Alby hummed, slightly whimpering at the same time, rolling his rump to and fro, lodging Andy deeper and deeper inside him.
Nature did the rest. Alby squeezed Andy's cock with his most intimate muscles. Andy glided inside Alby, slowly fucking, pushing and pulling, sometimes heeding a sudden urgency, other times, gently stirring. Like their voices blending in perfect harmony, so did their instinctive movements united, surrendering to the unfathomed marvels of love in motion. At one point, Andy wiggled his way to lay on his back underneath Alby. Pulling himself up on his knees, Alby straddled Andy and fed his cock back into his arse. Andy thrusted; Alby rode. Their gentle loving become a delightful frenzy of sweat, gasps, and sighs. Alby rode harder as Andy drilled him. Suddenly, lightning flashed. Andy screamed. His blinding orgasm spewed deep into Alby. Alby quaked as his own semen shot all over Andy's chest and face.
Outside, rain poured, pounding the deck, splashing in the surrounding waters. Storm winds made Godspeed drift back and forth on her anchor chain.
Andy began to laugh. So did Alby, collapsing on Andy, totally spent. Hugging, they rolled over and over, smothering each other's laughter with exuberant kisses. Later, quietly laying side by side, Alby whispered, "What was it like for you?"
"I'll show you in the morning..."
Yawning, Alby replied, "With the dawn?"
"With the dawn I want you in me -- Alby, I love you."
"I love you just as much!" cooed Alby, draping his leg over Andy's thighs, blowing out the candle.
The storm had cleansed the morning sky. Brilliant October dawn light filled the cabin. Andy nudged Alby with his buttocks, then kissed his cherry red lips. Alby smiled, opening his sleepy eyes, and uttered, "With the dawn, here I come."
They dashed topside for a much needed piss.
Back in bed, Andy kissed Alby's very eager cock, and said "I'm twitching all inside for you to enter. I don't care if it hurts, Alby. Just slather some butter on your wonderful cock and go for it -- now!"
Andy didn't need to repeat. Lithe as an elf, Alby darted over to the galley, smeared his cock with butter, mixing it with his own streaming precum. Andy, on his back, his arse exposed, held his legs sprawled in the air.
"Fuck me, Alby, fill me up with your love!"
Alby was crimson with lust. He knelt between Andy's legs, shaking as he placed the tip of his slender cock ready to penetrate. Staring into Andy's eyes, Alby began to push. Andy grabbed Alby's buttocks and pulled. Alby fell on Andy. His cock hit home. Alby grunted as instinct took over. His moist lips protruding, his wild eyes ablaze, Alby kissed Andy's face. He fucked with undulating grace and adolescent eagerness, gently going wild, urged on by rising orgasm. Andy jubilated. The vision of Alby, transfigured in ecstasy, drove Andy close to fainting. Alby's cock danced inside him, overpowering him in bliss. Alby drooled, panted, then howling as he arched, emptying his fluid soul into Andy, his man, his love.
"Wow... My God, wow! So that's what it's like... What a surprise."
"That's us Alby..."
"I'm not finished, Andy."
Andy hummed as Alby licked his nipples, his navel, his glans. Sun flowed through the skylight, glowing on their gleaming, sweaty skin. Alby hummed, sucking Andy harder and harder. Seconds later, Andy spewed, feeding Alby with his most precious offering.
"Yes! That's us too, love."
"I hear you Andy!" exclaimed Alby stretching alongside, beaming with all of his youthful glory. That's how we make love; that's how we sing. We shall always sing our own song, our Andy/Alby song!"
"And for the time being, let's sing the breakfast song!"
Alby hopped out of bed, singing a silly tune, improvising the lyrics,
"My love and I take turns, lighting the morning fire. With shrivelling balls we shiver, careless of the chill, tra-la-la!"
Andy picked it up the tune.
"With growling stomachs awaiting their fill, the other one fixes breakfast, tra-la-la, the other one fixes breakfast!"
"What do you choose this lovely morning, my beloved lusty lad? Fetch the wood and light the fire or cook us our breakfast making us glad?"
"Wow! You speak in rhyme now! I choose the fire... It's sexier!"
"Then enjoy my breakfast! Be it coffee, tea, or me, tra-la-la."
Alby laughed and stated, "Does love drive us crazy?"
"Not crazy enough, dearest Alby, not crazy enough!"
For the following days, they composed themes for wordless improvisations. They also found scores of English Renaissance songs on their iPhones that they harmonised into duets.
Of course there were moments of tension, but they vanished in their glorious love making. Alby was extremely tidy, even meticulous. This influenced Andy. The cabin was always ship shape. They took time to bathe and groom each other, enjoying more and more the tenderness of the ritual. They called their parents, just to say they were still alive and in love. Five days later, they took time off to go by motor down to Fort Augustus and refill the pantry. There they topped off the fresh water tank and enjoyed a hearty fish and chips lunch. The weather seemed to change by the hour. Their moods did too. Sometimes gleeful, sometimes quiet and peaceful, never negative.
"Negative? A waste of time and energy!" declared Alby.
No time nor energy were wasted. They simply dilated time and kindled their energy with song and semen. Without seeking it, their wisdom seeped in quite naturally, simply because that's the way they lived together.
After six days aboard, Alby asked, "What's real, Andy? Is it our life like this or the ordinary life of competition, striving to make money, just to buy things we really don't need?"
"I think if we want to help the planet survive from all the damage that the 'ordinary way of life' is inflicting on it, we must choose our way of life. This is possible only if we make the choice to live like we are living now, in the luxury of bare essentials. We can make that choice. Either we return to the blinded hordes that kill nature, playing their game, and continue the Big Lie, or love the planet, by refusing the Big Lie's game. The choice is there... It's up to us."
"I choose our reality, Andy. For instance, couldn't we equip the diesel motor onboard to burn used frying oil for fuel and ride bicycles instead of your Suzuki to move around off the water?"
"We can."
"Okay, then let's do it."
Their concert programme was composed for one half works of the Renaissance, the other half with improvisations.
Things were becoming quite clear. They felt deeper and deeper the spiritual power of their orgasms and the need of a radical attitude concerning simplicity.
The cruise back was easy. They were happy knowing that they could be totally themselves and make their decisions become realities.
Arriving at Dochgarroch Locks, Andy called his father to come and pick them up.
Sean admired their gorgeous glow. The boys were also very glad to hug Sean as well. They didn't bubble over telling him about everything. Sean didn't question them either.
In the car, Sean said, "Alby, you're having dinner with us tonight."
"And my mother?"
"She's already at the house."
When they entered the Sinclair house, Alby was surprised to see his mother in the kitchen preparing the dinner.
"Give me your dirties. I'll run a machine."
"No need, Mum. We did our wash before leaving."
Laura glanced at Sean. "They did their own laundry... by hand! Can you believe it? And they look so clean!"
"Laura, can't you see their light? I can believe anything about them now. Let's go enjoy a glass of wine before your lovely dinner."
In the living room, Sean raised his glass saying, "I've a toast to make."
Laura and the lads smiled raising their glasses as well.
"Here's to love, to our sons' love and to ours, Laura."
The boys looked at each other, not understanding.
Laura reached her glass over touching Alby's, then Andy's, then Sean's declaring, "Yes my love! Let's drink to our sons and above all to US! CHEERS!"
"Mum, do... you... mean?" stuttered Alby.
"SURPRISE!" sang Laura, "Yes, Sean and I are going to get married..."
"Heavens, Dad! That's so... so... Wow!"
"I have to drink to that all the way!" shouted Alby taking a gulp without coughing.
The boys grabbed each other and started dancing around their parents chanting, "A KISS, A KISS, A KISS!"
Both were teary eyed as they admired their parents kissing.
Suddenly, Alby screamed, "Oh my God, we're incestuous step-brothers! That's so COOL!"
"When young lover-sons laugh, it's like Easter morning bells ringing!" sniffed Laura, a bit overwhelmed by the moment. Sean, stepping in between the boys, held them both by the waist. Andy and Alby leaned their heads on Sean's shoulders. Laura looked at them and managed to say between her sobs, "You three are all too beautiful!"
Epilog
They shared with Paul their vision of life. He understood. Together they organised their first concert recital. It was an 'invitation only' event, for Saturday, December 10, 2023 in the Old High Church by the river.
Paul had Harry Benson, an agent friend of his, come to hear the lads. Benson was totally conquered by the performance. He promised Alby and Andy an excellent contract with concerts, television interviews, and an album to begin with.
"We'll be pleased to study every one of your propositions, Mr. Benson. We're especially glad to share our music, but I must tell you in advance that we are very busy."
"Really? Doing what, if I may ask?"
"Living our lives..." replied Alby.
"Our way of life, Mr. Benson, is a full time job..." added Andy.
Paul nodded his admiration.
Later that night, back on the boat, undressing, Alby said, "You know, Andy, I still remember the night when you said it was the beginning of always... Now I think that every night is the beginning of always. Do you want to go to bed?"
"Are you sleepy?"
"Who talked about sleep?"
A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com.