The Embarrassment of Riches

The Embarrassment of Riches Chapter Fourteen: All The Pain In The World

The people, places and events in this story are entirely fictional and any resembelences to real people, real places or real events would be awesome.

Martin's life had been put in a snow globe and shaken until he was confused and sick. It had been a long weekend since finding his birth certificate on Saturday morning. Now it was Monday and he sat not responding to another message from E.J. because he did not know what to say. He'd reply later with something ambiguous. Martin hadn't gone to work and had studied as restlessly as if having a bad dream.

Martin was having a bad dream.

It took time to figure out how the name on his certificate could be E.J., his E.J. but Martin separated what he knew from what he didn't.

E.J. had told Martin he had sex with a girl when he was a young teenager and his mum (Laura) had told him, in her letters, she was fourteen when he was conceived and that his dad was about the same age. About the same age: so he could have been thirteen, which would make him thirty-one now. The age that E.J. is now: so the ages probably fit. Martin had accepted that E.J. was thirteen, nearly fourteen, years older than him. Thirteen years and nine months as it turned out.

Laura had also written that she had sort of considered naming him after his dad: calling him Jamie or Andrew. E.J.'s last name was Jamieson and he was born on St. Andrews day. In his note, Martin's uncle Frazer, Laura's brother, had also referred to Martin's dad as Jamie.

Martin's head hurt. Again.

Martin had read though the letters from Laura that had been in the shoe box along with his birth certificate and while they had an intrinsic value, they shed no light on who his father was. She simply didn't talk about him.

Martin reread the letter from Frazer and looked at the photo of E.J. as a young boy, holding hands with a girl and not looking comfortable with it. Martin could have been looking at himself at that age.

That kind of thinking wasn't helping.

Martin had read the phone number Frazer left so many times, he now knew it by heart. His hand was shaking as he dialled and then put down his phone to pee because his bladder was as nervous as the rest of him.

Martin's thinking had become circular and obsessive. Everything seemed to fit but still he imagined that perhaps he was seeing patterns that were not there, that he was making the facts fit...

DENIAL!

Martin dialled again and listened to the ring tone.

"Hello?"

Hi, I'm Martin and I'm your nephew, you said I could call you.

"Hello?"

I'm really nervous and have so many questions, can we meet sometime?

"Eh... is anyone there?"

I'm not a sales call, honest. I'm not trying to offer you PPI, windows, conservatories or solar panels.

"Anyone? Anyone. Ok, then."

If he hangs up, I'll never call again.

"Is this Frazer?"

Now that someone had finally spoken, Frazer was sounding reticent rather than annoyed; he had been starting to think it was an annoying sales call but Martin's little voice eradicated this assumption.

"Yes... who's this?" he answered.

"I'm... I'm Martin," there was a long pause, the name filtered through.

"Ah..."

"Can we talk?"

The agreed to meet in a few hours, with Frazer skipping out of work during his lunch break to make the meeting. Martin had wrapped up for the cold weather but the inside of the coffee shop in the centre of town was warm and comfortable. Martin was watching the door for every man who came in but it would have helped if he knew what Frazer looked like.

The next man who entered was an inch or so short of six foot, with sandy brown hair, short at the sides but longer on top and swept to the right, and with blue eyes rimmed by black framed glasses. His eyes swept the room and met Martin's green eyes with a look of recognition that bordered on shock. The sort of look one might give a ghost or if you saw your first lover again fifteen years after breaking up.

"Hello, Martin," he said when he got to the table.

Martin tried to answer but just nodded and smiled and nearly muttered. Frazer was a handsome man of twenty-something or so; he had attractive beard that suited him and highlighted his beautiful blue eyes, framed behind black spectacles that made him look a little geek-chic. Frazer went and got a coffee and another tea for Martin.

"Sorry I'm late, I was in the middle of something," he admitted as he sat down.

"What do you work as?" Martin asked.

"I'm working for a community centre just now. I help to run the place. My wages are barely enough to fold; they pay me less that a kid who works in McDonalds," he smiled sardonically as he spoke but it clearly bothered him to be underpaid in an undervalued job role.

"I don't know where to start," Martin said by way of an icebreaker; he didn't have enough headspace to tackle Frazer's dissatisfaction at work.

"Me neither," Frazer admitted.

It bothered Martin, he thought he knew all he needed to know so why was he here? Was a part of him really hoping that Frazer would tell him he was wrong about E.J.? Martin felt like he was burning inside. The man across from him was the only one who could give him answers. It took all of Martin's restraint to not reach across and shake every answer out of him.

ANGER!

Martin didn't move - this wasn't Frazer's fault.

"We could start with this," Martin calmly offered as he put the photo on the table.

Frazer lifted it and smiled fondly, thinking about his lost sister.

Then he laughed; "Geez, man. I was never that young."

Martin smiled at Frazer's beaming face which was lit up by the broad laugh upon it.

"Look at my hair!"

"You've changed a bit," Martin agreed, his panic-induced anger subsiding as fast as it had arrived.

Frazer sat back and then turned to face Martin; "Haven't we all? You're all grown up."

Martin blushed, "My mum, after she gave me up... was she ok?"

"You broke her heart. Not you, sorry. It wasn't your fault. I meant that giving you up broke her heart. Because she loved you. But wasn't ready for you," Frazer said.

He paused long enough to realise he hadn't answered Martin's question.

"She was fine. She got married and had kids, when she stopped being one herself. They're great boys, maybe you could meet them sometime," Frazer suggested.

"Maybe. And my dad?" Martin asked at last.

"Jamie? Well, Ewan, but he hated that name and when I was that age," he tapped the infant in the photo; "I couldn't say Ewan properly. So I called him Jamie, which he liked, so everyone joined in. He was the most beautiful boy I've ever seen," Frazer laughed at himself as he caught what he'd just said. "First boy I ever had a crush on... Sorry. Is crushing on your dad a bit weird?"

You have no idea.

"A bit. What was he like? Why did he and your sister... you know?" Martin asked.

"He was quiet but his brother Stephen was... not. He was keen for E.J.," Frazer paused.

Martin could not believe the name had slipped into the conversation, he shouldn't have been surprised really; Martin wondered if Frazer had stopped because of the look on his face but he soon continued.

Frazer shook his head; "Sorry. I totally forgot that's what Stephen called him, just Stephen; no-one else. Anyway, Stephen was going out with a girl who was best friend was my sister. Stephen set them up as a thirteenth birthday present. I think he regretted it when he found out Jamie was gay. Another reason why my sister never got in touch with your dad. Stephen and Jamie moved away with their dad a couple of months after. That was before Laura started showing so Jamie never knew. I hear Jamie moved back to somewhere around here but I wouldn't be able to tell you where or how to reach him."

"That's ok," Martin was starting to feel hot and bothered by the conversation. "How do you know Jamie is gay?" Martin wondered.

"Stephen wrote to his girlfriend, Laura's best friend, for nearly a year after they moved. Stephen told her and she told Laura. My sister forbade her friend from telling about the pregnancy but..." Frazer paused, considering how to say the next part. "But she did tell Stephen. I didn't find out until years later because Stephen turned up and wanted to see her. When he found out she had gave you up... I think he felt partly responsible for peer pressuring Jamie. And would have taken more responsibility for you if you weren't already well looked after."

"Stephen sounds like he was a good guy," Martin commented.

"He was... I heard he was killed in oh-nine, he was a soldier. That was the last we ever heard from your side of the family. Until you called me today."

"I just wanted to find out more about... everything," Martin replied.

"Laura wrote to you, yea?" Frazer asked. "Tried to explain things?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we could talk again sometime?" Frazer said, after that he added; "I'll have to run."

Martin was sorry their first meeting was over so soon. In meeting his first 'real' family member, Martin had almost forgotten why he had come. He had come in the hope of confirmation that E.J. was E.J. Except that wasn't quite true - he had come hoping he was wrong and that Frazer would offer information that would prove him wrong.

He had wanted to grab Frazer then, to beg him to make it not-true. He would give anything for E.J. to not be his father.

BARGAINING!

"Thanks for coming. For meeting me," Martin said.

They both stood up for Frazer's departure and Martin threw his arms around him, Frazer retuned the embrace with little reluctance.

"You look like him, like Jamie I mean," Frazer said. "I see a lot of him in you."

You have no idea.

The week had trailed on so that by the time Friday afternoon arrived, the week itself was exhausted. Connor had just finished an exam and was relieved to have just one prelim left. Ephraim was bored now because Sean had gone to work at the Pothos Emporium, Matt was with the girlfriend that he thought no-one knew about and Kazou had gone to the dentist. Connor had attempted to persuade Martin to hang out but he had been distracted and refused to talk about, well, anything.

Connor had joked with Martin by singing, badly; "I don't want to talk, because it makes me feel bad..."

Martin glared at Connor, not in an angry way, more a W.T.fuck kind of way.

"Not an Abba fan?"

"See ya, Connor."

So Connor meandered towards the park close to the school. It was after lunch time now so it was almost deserted. January was still cool but not cold - it had been a terrific winter with very little frost or snow so far - and the afternoon was almost mild. His phone buzzed to signal a call and Connor was pressing answer before it had even left his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ephraim. How'd you exam go, sweetie?" Tom asked.

Ephraim smiled at the sound of Tom's sweet voice, the only person who he allowed to call him by his first name. "Good, not great, but good. Where are you?"

"The Symposium," Tom replied.

"Oh, I wondered if you might like to come out and play?" Ephraim asked flirtatiously.

Tom sniggered, "Sure thing. Your place or mine?"

"Mine," Ephraim answered, "Simon says be there in an hour."

"Simon says, huh? And what gives Simon the authority to tell me what to do?" Tom demanded jokingly.

"Do you want him to tell you to do something more exciting? If you're in the locker room, Simon says take off your top." Ephraim said with equal jest.

There was a pause on the line and Ephraim had to check he was still connected.

"Tom?"

"Sorry, I was just following Simon's instructions," Tom replied.

"Really? How intriguing, in that case: Simon says..."

"I think it's my turn now," interrupted Tom.

Tom, although the older of the pair, was rarely so assertive. Ephraim rather liked it.

"Tell me what you're wearing," Tom asked in a "by the way, what are you wearing" sort of way. Salaciously - that was it, he said it salaciously.

"School uniform, does that matter?" replied Ephraim.

"I didn't say Simon says," Tom retorted.

Ephraim huffed, "No fair. I didn't know that was you taking your turn."

"Don't be a sore loser, dear. I get another turn since you responded incorrectly. Simon says, change out of your school uniform," Tom instructed.

"I'm in the park." Ephraim said shrilly to no response. "Outside," silence; "It's January," nothing; "I only have shorts and t-shirt in my bag," not a peep; "people might see me."

"I know, exciting isn't it," Tom responded at last.

There was something pent up about Tom's answer that made Ephraim wonder if all the stories about Martin had inspired an exhibitionist streak in his partner.

Ephraim huffed and moved towards the closest bench which faced a deserted swing set frequented by teens looking to give each other a swatch of their genitals. Or just to kiss - to each their own. Ephraim put his bag on the bench and removed his shorts and t-shirt from it – he had brought them in case the opportunity for a kick about cropped up and he had also been running more often lately, giving serious thought to doing a half marathon in late spring.

"I'm putting the phone down to change, ok?" Ephraim said to Tom.

"Put on FaceTime so I can watch," Tom pleaded.

Ephraim complied then looked around again and then pulled off his jacket. It wasn't too cold; considering it was January it was still surprisingly mild. Running around in short sleeves and shorts was ok, but Ephraim was chilled as he was standing still and a cool breeze blew through thin material his shirtsleeves.

Ephraim pulled off the tie and unbuttoned his shirt to expose his thin, teen-toned body.

Tom wolf whistled.

Ephraim muttered an obscenity.

Ephraim pulled off the shirt and then unbuckled the belt of his trousers and unbuttoned them. Pushing them down, Ephraim hastily flicked his shoes off and pulled off the trousers. He stuffed it all into the bag, standing in just his underwear in the middle of the park, before pulling on his shorts, trainers and t-shirt.

"Happy now?" Ephraim asked the phone.

"Delighted," Tom responded; "I don't suppose it occurred to you, you could have changed into the t-shirt and then the shorts? You didn't have to stand around in your pants in public... Not that I'm complaining."

Ephraim groaned as he sat on the bench beside his bag, his bare legs outstretched in front of him.

"Simon says take your underwear off," Ephraim said – ignoring the commentary on his performance.

Ephraim picked up the phone while he watched Tom push down his shorts and briefs in one motion. In the background he could see the locker room of the Symposium and then Tom's skinny legs as he pulled the shorts back on.

"Get yourself hard," was Tom's next gambit.

"No, you didn't say Simon says. So it's my turn again. Simon says go to the gallery that overlooks the pool."

"Is that it?" Tom asked, surprised.

"Are we playing this game or not?"

Tom went on the move; "While I'm making my way there, Simon says pull out your dick and get it hard."

Ephraim looked around the park before going for it. The place was deserted: the time of day and the cool January temperatures had scared off the decent people and left only the debauched. Ephraim pulled the band of his shorts and underwear and hooked them under his balls so his cock was out and then started to stroke it tenderly.

"I'm here, now what?" asked Tom.

"Is anyone else there?" Ephraim asked.

"It's the middle of the afternoon in a working day, of course no-one else is here. Some fit guys in the pool though," Tom answered gleefully.

"Great, they'll give you something to crack one off to. Simon says take off your shorts, for being cheeky, and start stroking."

Tom looked around, now highly aware of the danger that someone else might enter the gallery to spectate on the pool. From the pool at least, no-one would see him. Tom lifted his bum and removed his shorts, leaving them on the floor in front of him where they could easily be slipped on again. Then Tom brought his erection to full mast and licked his hand to stimulate the head of his penis.

"Simon says, race you to the finish and the winner picks top or bottom tonight," Tom said.

"Done!"

Tom listened carefully for the door to the gallery opening but it remained thankfully closed.

Ephraim periodically looked around to see if anyone was approaching; the last thing he wanted was a dog sniffing around his bollocks. A handsome dog walker might be ok though but neither was within sight. As far as he could see, Ephraim was alone in the park so he pushed the shorts around his ankles as he beat off his six and a half inch penis.

Tom, whose feet were unrestrained by shorts, as able to spread his legs wider. He could see a few great looking men in Speedos or tight Casino Royale 007 swim shorts and they proved to be just what he needed to get him over the edge before Ephraim. He came on the floor, little worrying about the mess and rewarded himself by pulling his shorts on.

"I win," Tom announced as his bum and privates were covered again.

"I hate you."

"No you don't. Hurry up and finish yourself off," Tom answered.

The cold and lack of visual stimulus had worked against Ephraim but he still shot a load onto the ground in front of him and pulled up his shorts and underwear, the latter of which would absorb the residual cum.

Of course by then Ephraim had been seen; at a distance too far to be caught on Mitchell McMann's phone, at least. But the lad had fostered thoughts of revenge for months – since Ephraim and his friends had cum on him and abandoned him naked in the locker room. Now, Mitchell was having thoughts about how he might exact his payback. It had been a purely chance observation but Mitchell was grateful for it; he departed from his hiding place and left Ephraim to his plans.

"So, my place. Top or bottom?" Ephraim asked.

"I'm nearly twenty," Tom began by way of answer; "I don't know if I should be letting a seventeen year old bum me."

"Yea, yea, old man. I'll bring you some Viagra and you can fuck me tonight," Ephraim answered happily.

"And they say romance is dead."

The problem with setting your heart on something is the sense of disappointment you feel if you don't get it. Johnnie was feeling that way now; he had hoped to be discharged on Wednesday and was still languishing as Friday afternoon matured. Johnnie had not felt well in the small hours of Wednesday morning: his temperature had shot up to 38.3 Celsius and his blood pressure had gone up too. Pyrexia and high blood pressure, especially for someone whose brain had just had major problems, were bad things.

"Spurious cause," was the euphemism used by the medical staff, which loosely translated to "we don't know why."

Blood cultures, regular observations, a precautionary brain scan. Nada. Zilch. Nothing.

To be clear, his MRI did show he had a brain, it just didn't show anything to be worried about.

He was now being told to stay in hospital until Monday and Johnnie was feeling positively peeved about it.

"Can I take your obs', Johnnie?" Cameron, Johnnie's hot male nurse was at the door.

"Gosh, it seems like forever since I last saw you. I was starting to forget what you looked like," Johnnie said facetiously.

Johnnie could set his watch by the nurses schedule of meals, medications and observations.

"Well, I can give you a picture if you like?" Cameron replied.

Score!

"Yes please," Johnnie said and then winked.

Cameron blushed, laughed and ignored the flirt.

He always did.

Cameron strapped on the blood pressure cuff and clipped on the oxygen sats probe and then took Johnnie's temperature with a tympanic thermometer.

"Any time you feel like using an anal thermometer, just let me know," Johnnie quipped.

Cameron laughed, blushed, refused to rise to the bait. Instead replying with, "Shhhh."

Behind him, Calvin and Daniel entered the room but they hovered silently so as not to disturb the man at work.

Cameron counted Johnnie's respirations while the machine finished calculating his BP, pulse and SpO2 (oxygen saturation) and Cameron recoded it silently.

"NEWS zero?" asked Johnnie.

The National Early Warning Score was calculated based on various physiological parameters, deviations from the norm – a high temperature or low blood pressure for example – caused a person to score. The more deviation, the higher the score. The aim was to provide a simple way to identify when a patient was unwell or their condition was deteriorating.

"You've been here too long," commented Cameron at Johnnie's use of jargon. "Drink a glass of water, your blood pressure is a tad low."

Johnnie really liked Cameron but it was inconvenient, no awkward, to flirt with Calvin right behind him. Johnnie still felt things for Calvin and, in his heart, he still wanted to have those feelings returned.

"See you in four to six hours?" Johnnie asked – the next time his observations were scheduled to be taken.

"No, see you in one hour for the medication round," Cameron replied; "I'll ask the junior doctor to prescribe you something to make you less cheeky."

Calvin laughed at the retort, bringing Cameron's attention to the visitors.

"I was just leaving guys, good luck with this one," Cameron said, tilting his head in Johnnie's direction.

Once he had gone, Calvin and Daniel took seats from the side of the room and brought them closer to Johnnie's own bedside chair. Johnnie could not explain it but he saw something in the distance between their two chairs, the way their postures mirrored on another... perhaps it was unconscious behaviour on their part. Johnnie was not usually apt to notice these things, but Tom had visited yesterday and talked about micro expressions, mirroring and eye contact. The science of flirting – quite why Tom had been reading this and why he brought it up, Johnnie wasn't sure.

Unless he was making a subtle observation about Johnnie's behaviour towards Cameron?

"You don't seem as unhappy about being here as I thought you would be," Daniel said.

"I'm stuck here whether I'm happy about it or not. Might as well entertain myself," Johnnie replied.

"Will this help?" asked Calvin, passing a newspaper over.

It was better than nothing - at least he'd have a crossword and soduku to do.

"Anything good?" Johnnie asked.

Seemed like the news was always bleak - why did they never lead with nice stories about puppies or pay rises for everyone.

"Tits on page three?" Daniel offered as if Johnnie would be interested.

The famous page three where bare-breasted girls offered their thoughts on what was happening in the world, occasionally with an incongruous (presumably piss-taking) quote by Nietzsche or similar.

"Oh, Donald Trump," Johnnie said as he checked for the boobies.

"So, yes to the tit," commented Calvin and they all laughed.

"How are you feeling?" Daniel asked.

Johnnie thought before replying; "Ok. My doctor is being overcautious, his words, and keeping me in until Monday."

"What do you plan to do when you leave?" Calvin asked.

"I... don't know," Johnnie replied.

He had a few ideas about what he planned to do and where he planned to go however.

"The Hall's aren't the same without you," Daniel chipped in.

Johnnie noticed Cal as quiet when Daniel spoke. Was he blushing too? Johnnie felt a wave of... unattractive emotions when he thought that Cal's attention might be drawn to Daniel.

"I'm reluctant to say we miss you, because that might go to your head but... we wouldn't... what am I trying to say?" Daniel asked Calvin, patting his arm as he said so.

"We wouldn't be adverse to you coming back to the Halls. I suppose," Calvin quipped.

Johnnie laughed, joining his close friends in the humorous witticism.

"That's damning with faint praise, isn't it?" Johnnie replied.

Daniel gave Johnnie a queer look, "What a strange phrase for you to use, no offence. Where'd you hear that: damning with faint praise. I like it."

Johnnie felt a little annoyed at the implication the phrase was beyond his usual rapport but, in fairness, it was.

"Cameron uses it sometimes," Johnnie felt compelled to admit.

"Ah," Daniel said while smiling knowingly; "Cameron says, does he?"

"Shut up," Johnnie answered good-naturedly.

Johnnie noticed a flash on Calvin's face at the mention of Cameron... was that jealousy or relief?

Jealousy: Calvin changed his mind and wanted Johnnie after all?

Relief: if Johnnie moved on, Calvin wouldn't have to feel guilty for rejecting him.

"Have you asked him out yet?" Calvin asked in a level voice.

It wasn't an accusatory question. But it stilled the room as they all knew what the question really meant.

"Only in a joking way," Johnnie answered; "So that he'd say I can't date patients so then I said, in that case can you help me self-discharge so I'm not your patient."

The three guys laughed.

"Yea, he laughed too."

An hour later, Calvin and Daniel were nearly out of time. Daniel instinctively stepped out of the room on the pretence of finding a toilet and then getting a cup of coffee.

Alone, Calvin and Johnnie were quiet initially. Eventually, Cal broke the silence.

"Have you decided? What you plan to do when you leave?" Calvin asked.

"I'm not coming back to the Halls," he let it hang in the air between them.

Things were better since Johnnie got better; they had spent cordial time together but things were not what they were before their spat.

"I'm pretty sure I want to quit Uni, I've missed the exams and coursework deadlines anyway," Johnnie added – there would be more exams come May if he stayed.

"You can sit the second diet, I asked. I mean, you had a legitimate health problem..."

"I don't want to be there," Johnnie interrupted. "And this isn't about you and me. It's just about me. Uni isn't for me; a degree isn't what I want anymore. I feel like I haven't been there for twelve chapters of my life."

"What will you do instead?" Cal asked quietly.

"I still want to see you all," Johnnie said so there was no ambiguity that leaving University meant leaving Calvin's life too – that was not what it meant. "E.J. has agreed to put me up. He has another bedroom next to Victor's and he said he'll give it to me cheap while I figure out what I want to do."

"I thought your mum and dad would insist you went home for a bit," Cal said.

"They did. And I insisted I didn't. And of the three of us I'm the boss of me, so I won," Johnnie retorted.

Calvin smiled appreciatively at the levity but still felt a little empty – as if his life were being abandoned. Cal began to wonder if there was anything he could do to make a difference? Anything he could say or feel that would change Johnnie's mind?

"My parents have agreed to keep supporting me for now," Johnnie continued.

Johnnie and Calvin were in the very privileged position of not having student loans because their parent could bank roll their attendance at the James VI (Scotland) University.

Johnnie added; "But I want to support myself. E.J. said he might have a job for me as an athletics assistant. A general dogsbody, I suppose."

"And you'll be happy doing that?" Cal asked, sounding a little judgemental like he thought the job was beneath Johnnie somehow.

"I need to start somewhere. Besides I have other ideas but... I'm not ready to talk about them." This last statement from Johnnie reminded them both of the distance still between them.

"Ok," Calvin replied.

Johnnie wanted to say more but didn't. Anything he said, he felt would dig a deeper hole for himself.

"Monday is the twenty-first of January," Calvin said as he stood up to make it clear it was time for him to go.

To go join Daniel, Johnnie wondered jealously? Except the date resonated to erase most other feelings.

"I wondered if you wanted my company. You're coming home, I wouldn't mind coming... to be with you?" Calvin asked and it was clear he felt almost as acutely sad as Johnnie.

"Nine years..." Johnnie said quietly. "Since my brother died. You always remember."

"Of course I do," Calvin answered.

And there it was, that `thing' between them that reminded them both of their history, their friendship and sufficient to justify their future.

"I'd like that, if you're free I mean. I'd like to see you." Johnnie replied.

"I'll see you Monday," Cal said, giving him a quick hug.

Calvin was already at the door when Johnnie replied; "See you."

Martin had to make a choice.

Actually Martin had to make lots of choices.

It was Friday morning, should he lie in or get up and have breakfast now?

Should he have toast or cereal?

Should he study all morning or chill out for a bit to let his mind rest and percolate all the facts he'd learned before his last prelim exam?

Should he tell E.J. that they're related and all the times they'd had sex, E.J. had been fucking his own son?

Should he not tell E.J. and carry on dating, because he did... does... love E.J.?

Should he not tell E.J. and break up with him?

Martin had to make a choice.

First things first: Martin got up, ate breakfast, threw up, showered, dressed, studied, took a break, studied, went to school, engaged distractedly in idle chit chat, said "nothing" when asked if everything was ok, sat his last prelim exam and then went home.

Back at home that afternoon, Martin moped about.

E.J. sent him a message that was sweet and interested and affectionate as ever. It made it hard to know what to do. His mum and dad had thought he was stressing out about exams, so whatever he was going to do to fix things, he ought to start it now before they figured out it wasn't about school.

Martin knew he had to go see E.J. anyway – it had been a long time coming. Although they had been in touch, they had not seen each other for a whole week now. The worst part was, Martin still wanted to see E.J., to be with him and love him. Meeting Frazer was meant to make things easier... somehow Martin could not figure out why meeting him had been so important - perhaps he was disappointed that his uncle had confirmed rather than debunked the questions he had about E.J.

The most important thing was to see E.J.

"Hello, Martin," Victor said as he opened the door to E.J.'s house.

"Hi, Victor."

"Are you going to come in or do like keeping the doorstep warm?" Victor asked when Martin failed to step inside.

Martin smiled but a laugh would have been forced, so he didn't.

"Long time no see, wee man. How did your exams go?" Victor asked interestedly.

Victor was a lovely man: a big black guy, built like a house but inside he had a soft filling. Like a handsome grizzly bear that would give you cuddles afterwards. Martin liked talking to him, but it was hard when your heart felt heavy and your brain was buzzing.

"They all went fine. I'll find out results in a week or two. It's the big exams in May I need to worry about anyway," Martin replied.

"Have you started planning for the future: Uni, work, travelling?" Victor asked.

Martin shrugged.

"What about you, Victor? Studying hard?" Martin asked.

"Always," Victor answered parsimoniously.

"Good evening," E.J.'s voice hailed from across the room.

Martin turned to see E.J. almost totally naked. He was wearing only a pair of skimpy briefs which highlighted his long legs and bare feet, also his hard slim abdomen and defined chest... ok, fine the whole package (so to speak) looked shit hot!

"Fuck, man," Victor offered his commentary to the room. "Seriously, dude. If you let me get my nipple clamps and butt plug, I'd be happy to stick around for a bit."

E.J. laughed, "It's ok, Victor. We'll be fine."

"No problem," Victor said as he made to leave the room. In a stage whisper to Martin, Victor added: "Take pictures!"

"Good night, Victor." E.J. said, he was no leaning nonchalantly against the wall, smiling at himself because of the look Martin's face.

"I'll just be upstairs studying. I promise to wear my earphones and not listen to you guys... much," Victor said as a parting shot.

"So," said E.J. "What do you think?"

"I want to break up?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it E.J., but I need you to accept this is over."

"I don't understand."

"Because I haven't explained myself well, and don't know how to explain. But we have to end this."

"This isn't happening."

Of course it's not happening, you big coward.

Speak up! Tell E.J. now... before it's too late.

"So," said E.J. "What do you think?"

"Wow."

Too late.

"Wow? Lost for words are we?" E.J. teased as he strutted towards Martin. "I know this is silly, but you seem to get a kick out of exhibitionism so I thought I'd give it a try... in my own home... but my lodger saw me so that counts, right?"

"Sure," Martin answered.

Martin found it had to concentrate; his eyes had traced every contour, every muscle, every hair and every bulge. E.J. was directly in front of him now, towering over Martin where he sat on an armchair; E.J. bulging briefs were directly before Martin's eyes and he could not tear away his gaze.

His father, this was his dad.

His lover, this was his boyfriend.

It was E.J. – a man he had fallen in love with and desired more than anything. Also, E.J. was the most handsome and sexually attractive man Martin had ever laid eyes on and that hadn't changed despite what he knew. Martin reached out and put his right hand on E.J.'s left thigh, sliding it up the side of E.J.'s leg until it landed on the hip of the briefs containing the prize Martin desperately wanted to see again.

The prize was growing and E.J. edged forward until Martin surrendered and leaned over with his mouth wide and suckled the cock within, through the briefs that still contained it. E.J. made appreciative noises, encouraging Martin to raise his other hand to the opposite hip and then slipping both around the back to grasp E.J.'s buttocks and pull him closer.

The front of E.J.'s briefs were wet with saliva and pre-cum as Martin slipped his hand into the back of the briefs to feel the smooth, bare flesh underneath. Martin knew he should not continue, but having sinned with E.J. already, he was apt to sin once more.

"I think you're a little overdressed, Martin. Let's go upstairs and take care of that, shall we?" asked E.J.

This was his chance to say no and make hasty his escape.

Martin took E.J.'s hand and allowed himself to be led upstairs. As they ascended, Martin gazed long at E.J.'s big bare feet, his thin and curved calves and his thigh's that joined an exquisite bum.

In E.J.'s bedroom, the door closed despite Victor's eagerness to watch or participate, Martin sat to watch E.J. push his briefs down to his ankles. Exposed, totally naked, while Martin remained clothed; both gained an understanding of how the other usually feels. Martin watched the exposure and imagined it more public, more crowded and how that crowd might appreciate the sight as he appreciated it now. E.J. was beginning to understand the appeal of exposure while others remained protected; his whole body felt hot and prepared to do more.

"Stroke yourself," implored Martin.

He had not spoken much since entering the house, did E.J. noticed?

E.J. pulled at his penis until it grew again and stood up at its full eight inches, the head already shiny from the stimulus downstairs. Martin stood up and kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, the only item of clothes not in this room was his jacket, located in the hall right by the front door of the house.

"Take off my clothes," Martin asked in a little voice.

Were he a stronger man Martin would have ended this but he was weak and now he knew he would see it to the end. E.J. as quite happy to approach Martin and unbutton his jeans to loosen the waist and then pull out the t-shirt tucked there. E.J. pulled the jumper and t-shirt up in one go and Martin obligingly raised his arms for them to come off over his head. Martin's underarms remained exposed for a moment, long enough for E.J. to trace his fingers along the curve and for this hand to cover a whole nipple at the end of the caress. E.J knelt down to pull at the jeans, which fell to Martin's bare feet and left him wearing only his briefs that were already tenting.

E.J.'s big hand held Martin's balls and gave them a gentle tug; then his hand slipped into the briefs to grasp the hard-on inside and pull it out. The waist of the briefs slung underneath Martin's scrotum while E.J. pulled on the penis and then kissed the head. E.J.'s pursed lips pushed the foreskin back to expose the most sensitive parts of the penis. Only then did E.J. complete his assignment and pull the briefs down to join the jeans, then Martin stepped out of both and was naked.

Martin embraced E.J. so their bodies pressed together, their penis's sliding left or right or up but pressing tight between their bodies. E.J. nuzzled his face into Martin's neck and then kissed it; moving on the kisses touched collarbone, shoulder and then down as the parted so E.J. lips could lick and suck on Martin's nipple. Martin slid his hands over E.J.'s muscular chest, his and groping a pectoral as his was abused with kisses.

"I want..." Martin said.

Neither had spoken for a while so E.J. stopped to listen, to give Martin anything he asked for.

"I want to be inside you," Martin said.

E.J. smiled, all the times they had had sex he had been on top; he was quite happy to bend over and had been a while. E.J. was not sure why Martin had been so reticent about being the one to penetrate, nor why he wanted to do so now, but to ask would have ruined the momentum of the night.

"Good," E.J. replied economically.

Their lips met in a warm and wet embrace; their tongues touching and sliding over one another.

"Martin, if you want a condom they're over on the chest of drawers... if you want it..." E.J. said.

He was reticent to promote bad practice, unprotected sex being just that – unprotected. But neither he nor Martin had any disease that could be shared. And heterosexual couples do it all the time, how else do they make more humans? E.J. was willing to let Martin choose.

Martin was full of bad choices today.

As E.J. spread lubricant on his hand he first distributed it by stroking his cock with it and then by smearing it with his hand across his anus. E.J. pushed a finger in and out and then a second finger. It had been a while since another man's cock had entered him, but fingers had kept the sphincter patent. After all, Martin was a big boy! A little bigger than himself – eight inches and fifth about to invade E.J. arse.

He was going to need more fingers.

Martin was full of bad choices today: he lubricated his big penis and stroked his cock until the entire shaft was slick and shiny. The veins across the top of the organ pulsed and his balls felt heavy with cum. He looked up to see E.J. facing him, with the bed directly behind; E.J. was tall and long and quite resplendent. A beautiful man who was the epitome of what Martin desired; it was a strange desire as they had always acknowledged their similarities and knew it was part of what had attracted each to the other. If E.J. knew why they were quite so similar...

E.J. sat on the bed, still facing his lover, with his penis sticking out and up from his groin. He slid back an inch or two and then lay back. His thighs lay upon the bed, his calves draped over its edge; then E.J. pulled his lower legs up and held them behind the knee.

E.J.'s arse was on display, the whole beckoning Martin to enter; it was as accessible as E.J. could make it. An easy entry for Martin's first time on top. Martin moved forward before sense or sensibility or decorum could change his mind. Madness gripped Martin as he licked the anus offered to him with long wet slaps of his tongue. His tongue entered and flitted in and out; E.J. moaned loudly, louder than he meant to and louder than he expected he would have.

When Martin's face was satisfied he raised it and on impulse he leaned over E.J.'s body, manoeuvring his shoulders between E.J. spread legs and knees, and planting a passionate kiss on E.J.'s lips. Martin looked at his older lover, it was one of the rare times Martin remembered E.J. was older – wasn't that the way of things? You have to really think about certain things sometimes to recall them to the top of your mind. The rest of the time, such facts sleep in your mind and you forget.

Like who E.J. really is – that was asleep just now.

Martin stood tall and put his hands on E.J.'s knees. He leaned his groin forward and then realised he would need his hands to guide his penis in. His fingers touched the glowing and naked head of his cock as he pressed against E.J.'s sphincter.

E.J. felt the bare penis and savoured the flesh on flesh. Martin was very careful as he pressed harder, easing his long cock into E.J.'s waiting hole. The sphincter spread slowly and surely, accommodating the invasion and when the head of Martin's penis slipped in, it was virtually pulled in by E.J.'s will and his rectum's desire.

Martin continued to push deeper, transfixed by the sight of his cock inside another man. It was as deep as it would go, yet an inch or so of his cock still had not gone in. Martin would have asked if this was normal, but decided not to fret. Instead Martin instinctively pulled out and then pushed back in again. The sensitive knob of his cock slip and hit against so many things inside E.J.'s bum – he was not sure if he ought to `aim' for the prostate, nor how to do so even if he should. So Martin continued to blindly pull out and then push in.

"Fuck! Fuck!" E.J. gasped.

Martin could see E.J.'s face and knew it was an expression of pleasure. He too as feeling pleasure, impulses and sensations he had not felt when on his back. Martin could feel his testicles full of hot cum and were churning towards their end. E.J. slid one arm around behind both knees to keep them raised for Martin's ease but freed the other for his hand to grasp his cock and start to masturbate.

E.J.'s heart was pounding and his whole body tingling with ecstatic fire. He pulled back on his cock as far as it would go and used his thumb to smear the head of his penis and titillate the eye of it.

Martin was now so close and when he came, the ejaculate was warm and gooey. It filled up E.J.'s back passage and when Martin pulled all the way out a burst of his own cum followed. He wasn't finished cumming either, so Martin pressed the spurting cock against the eager hole and shot another load over it and into it. Martin pushed his cock back in, pushing with it blobs of ejaculate that oozed back out whenever Martin's penis was removed.

Martin's cock and balls were starting to hurt from continuing past the point of climax, such that he had to stop. With fever, Martin's hands found E.J.'s knees and pushed them down so his legs again dangled off the bed and E.J. cock was accessible. Martin peeled away E.J.'s hands that were still engaged in self-abuse and he took the oozing organ in his mouth.

Within a minute, E.J. came in Martin's mouth and kept on cumming even after Martin's mouth was full. Cum dribbled from his lips and ran down E.J.'s cock until it pooled around the root of his penis. Cum clung to E.J.'s pubes and trickled down onto his balls and farther onto the perineum until it met with Martin's cum still dribbling out of E.J. anus.

When both were able to move again, they lay in bed together.

It was just E.J., Martin and Martin's guilt. Martin's sense of impending doom.

Martin was dozing off when E.J. shifted beside him. They lay on their sides facing each other and E.J. slid his top leg between Martin's. E.J.'s leg shifted, the fine hair on both their legs tingled like slik and E.J. rested easy as their legs joined at the ankle and they were still again.

It was almost morning when Martin awoke to the implications of what he had done and still had to do. He tried to slip out of the bed by E.J. awoke and smiled at him with affection.

Shit!

"Morning," E.J. said happily, propping his head up on his hand.

"Morning," Martin replied uneasily.

E.J. caught it and responded; "Are you ok? After last night... you were good. Great actually. First time on top, full marks."

E.J. laughed nervously at a room that's air had changed. Changed from sex filled to stagnant.

"Good," Martin replied solemnly.

"What's wrong?" E.J. asked, suddenly serious because Martin was suddenly so serious.

E.J. sat up and pulled the sheets across his midriff.

Martin was pulling on his clothes.

"I... I need to get home now," Martin answered.

E.J. reached out for him, to offer comfort and to pull him near, for he sensed the distance growing between them.

"If something's wrong you should say," E.J. said, his spider-sense warning him that freaking out would be ok because things were going tits up.

Though not for any reason that E.J. could even begin to imagine.

"I just need to get home," Martin replied; then he thought about it and couldn't leave things at that. "I can't..."

"Can't? Can't what?" E.J. asked breathlessly.

"This. All of this... Us. I just can't."

"What? Martin... look, let's calm down and talk about this." E.J. replied.

"I am calm. I'm quite calm," Martin responded calmly; "I don't want to be with you anymore."

Martin had to make a choice.

Accepting that anything he said would hurt E.J., he was trying to hurt him the least possible amount. Martin considered how affected he had been by learning the truth and could see no way that it would affect E.J. any less. It would affect him more, hurt him more.

Not only would he learn he had a son born to him when he was fourteen that he knew nothing about; but also he had been in a sexual relationship with him. And that son had just, knowingly brought intimacy between them one last time.

Martin had to make a choice.

ACCEPTANCE!

"I think I want this to end now. I need it to end. I'm seventeen and you're..."

"Martin," E.J. said severely; "The age difference hasn't been an issue since we were honest about the gap."

"Does it matter why then?" Martin snapped.

"Does it matter why you're breaking up with me after we were so happy last night? Yes!" E.J. replied.

"I can't do it anymore." Martin repeated his refrain. "The truth is..."

He'd never say it.

"Goodbye,"

"Martin!" E.J. made a grab for Martin's wrist but the grip was wrenched free immediately.

"Just leave me be," Martin said.

Martin made it down stairs and pulled on his jacket. He didn't look back at the house for fear that E.J. might be watching or pursuing. At the bottom of the driveway Martin started to run.

He got to the park and ran into it to cut through to the other side, but mostly just to keep running.

His legs hurt, his chest was tight, his breath was cold and when he ran out of steam he nearly collapsed. He was alone at least.

All alone.

When he started to cry, to sob and to grieve so profoundly he didn't know how to stop. He was sorry: sorry that he couldn't tell E.J. the truth and sorry that the truth between them was what it was. Martin was sorry he hadn't ended it before they'd had sex last night; he was sorry that he had broken E.J.'s heart and sorry his own was broken too.

It was like being sorry for all the pain in the world.

This author does not advocate unprotected sexual intercourse and the story is not intended to be an exemplar of quality behaviour or good decision making.

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If you are enjoying this story, I have also written:

School Exhibitionism - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/school-exhibitionism

The Symposium - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-symposium/