The Embarrassment of Riches

The Embarrassment of Riches Chapter Nineteen: The Truth Takes Time

The people, places and events in this story are entirely fictional and any resembelences to real people, real places or real events is coincidental.

"Hi, Martin," Sean said excitedly.

Martin smiled in return - happy to see his friend but oblivious to Sean's puppy-dog enthusiasm to see him.

"I meant to try and catch you after class yesterday," Sean said.

"Yea? What about?" Martin asked as he pulled off his t-shirt to don his work shirt.

It wasn't every day that Martin got to wear his regular uniform at the Pothos Emporium so it was a little unsettling - most days he came in the maroon shirt and dress trousers were substituted for something more provocative. There was still time for that of course. Sean took in the sight of Martin's body, savouring the sight of it before he started to button up the maroon shirt to cover it.

Sean was scared about what he was going to do next, but there was nothing else for it. Things with Matt had been a little frosty for a while but, as brothers always do, they had made up. Matt neither said any more about his thoughts on Sean's feelings for Martin, nor his opinion that Martin did not reciprocate. There was one way to find out.

"Well, I thought maybe we could go out some time? Do something?" Sean asked awkwardly.

Martin wasn't really listening; "Sure, maybe."

Sean was blinded by his hopeful ear.

"Maybe go the end of year formal together?" Sean asked.

Still not really listening; "Sure, maybe."

His hand delicately touched Martin's hand, which brought their eyes to meet each other; "I enjoyed what we did here on Valentine's weekend."

Now Martin was listening; "Yea, me too."

Martin meant what he was saying but not in the same way. A thought that had come to him during his last conversation with Frazer returned: sex and exhibition were things he sought out now rather than things that happened as a result of machinations.

Geez, Frazer! There was a man he didn't want to think about right now. It had been two long weeks since Frazer had been offered an interview at the Symposium.

The Symposium!

Where E.J. worked!

Martin was sure he was going to be rumbled. Frazer would realise Martin knew E.J.; or Frazer would tell E.J. he had a son; or Frazer would tell Martin he had "found Jamie, do you want to meet him..."

There was rather a lot that could go wrong with a meeting between E.J. and Frazer. Rather too many to imagine. Martin had been relieved when Frazer told him that the interview had gone well; he had met the current manager Anthony Slade and was on the final short list for the job. Frazer commented on the synchronicity of his next interview falling on April fool's day but Martin didn't enjoy the irony as much as Frazer did. A second interview meant the risk of Frazer meeting E.J. was redoubled.

And even worse, even if they didn't meet at this interview they were guaranteed to meet if Frazer got the job. What was martin meant to do, hope Frazer didn't get the job? And then Martin felt like a bastard for even indulging that hope. Frazer deserved the job.

Today was the day: Frazer's final interview.

Anyway, Martin had meant what he said to Sean; he had enjoyed their Valentine's encounter. The bow job had offered a sweet oblivion form his pain and guilt and ever-growing desire to run away from life, the universe and everything. If Martin was ever in need of sweet oblivion, it was now.

"Maybe we should try something else?" Martin suggested with an implicit sexual undertone.

"Yea? Like what?" Sean asked breathlessly; he had been excited enough by sucking Martin's cock last month, what would "something else" be like?

"I'm sure Graham will have an idea," Martin replied knowingly.

Martin had given Graham an idea several weeks ago and today, by fortune or coincidence or providence, was the perfect day for it to happen. Sweet oblivion.

Graham was in his office and worrying over a financial fuck up made by his accountant. When he looked up, Martin was standing in the doorway with a curious smile on his face. Not curious as in inquisitive, curious as in "why is he smiling like that?" way.

"Martin, if you need something maybe you could talk to Nate?" Graham said pleasantly.

Nate was the closest thing the Pothos Emporium had to a deputy manager but he was not the man for this conversation.

"I just wanted to ask about the demonstration today," said Martin as he stepped into the room.

"Demonstration?" Graham asked, wondering if he hadn't been paying attention.

"Oh, I mean the spring clearance," Martin amended; "The set up we're putting up in the atrium? I was thinking of it like an expo."

Graham nodded and found himself wondering if Martin was suggesting the kind of thing that was now running through his own mind.

"What's your question?" Graham asked innocuously.

Graham was starting to see the real reason Martin was here, not the veiled one.

"I thought... well, I thought if you thought it would help... I could bring some attention to the store today... somehow?" Martin said anxiously.

He was not really anxious; he was just hoping that Graham was thinking about the subtext of his dialogue rather than the actual words.

"I'm sure we could think of something," Graham replied coolly; "I must admit that business has always boomed when... well, I could really ask you do something like that again."

"Something like what?" Martin asked. He was rather enjoying being the manipulator this time, although the result would be the same: it would be him with his clothes off.

"Business really took off after your demonstration with Oscar, the tailor. And again with the wilderness man Halloween costume you modelled, the window display and the auction at Christmas and your exhibition at Valentine's day... There is rather an inescapable theme."

"You think people would come if I took my clothes off?" asked Martin, seemingly aghast.

There was a time, Graham thought, when this naive boy would never have worked that out. The more things change the more they stay the same, as Jean-Baptiste Karr said.

"I know it's asking a lot of you," Graham replied and he was suddenly compelled to give a really good reason, luckily his computer offered just that; "The truth is the Pothos Emporium is in trouble right now because my accountant is an idiot. I can fix it but I need to get profits up for a few weeks to keep the shop afloat."

"Oh, right... well I guess I could," Martin answered; "Do I have to do it alone?"

Graham almost laughed; "Why don't you get Sean to help you?"

Martin nodded in agreement and made to leave the office.

"And Martin?" Graham said, then not nastily he added; "I'm not so naive as you. I don't know why you've made such a generous offer... but thank you."

Graham had not minded being manipulated but a sense of senseless pride would not allow him to let Martin leave without knowing he had been played.

"I don't know what you mean, boss," Martin replied smoothly and exited the office.

Martin did not mind that Graham had sussed him out; he had free reign to orchestrate something but now he need to figure out what. As he walked through the store, Sandy, Sam and Jerry were hard at work on the shop floor; Sean was in the dressing room area and Nate was manning the check outs with Gordon. Today was all hands on deck; in a few hours their spring clearance would be in full swing, the stock spilling out into the atrium outside the shop.

The shopping centre's fifth floor hosted only three other realtors: the Cleeneasy, the Foto Shop and Johnson's Coffee Shot. None of these, nor the Pothos Emporium either, were frequented by most Saturday shoppers. There was a time when the best explanation would have been that Saturday shoppers were put off by the prevalence of gay men who traipsed in and out of the fifth floor. Now, the answer was more likely convenience. There were five or six coffee shops between the ground and fourth floors so no need to traipse all the way up to the fifth. As for the photo developer, Martin didn't know people still used such a place in the 21st century and there were more convenient dry cleaners too.

All of these factors were a good thing because in no other place could Martin have done the things he had done. Can you imagine a naked lad jizzing in the window of a Marks and Spencer, or a Debenhams or a John Lewis?

Well, keep imagining, `cause it ain't gonna happen.

But it could happen here. Martin stepped out of the shop and surveyed the landscape; he could hear the bustle of activity on the lower floors and felt his everything tingle at the thought of his naked body being so close to all that noise and all those people. And this time he had a partner.

"You want to what?" Sean said, flabbergasted.

"I thought you were interested in doing stuff with me?" Martin replied.

"Well... I, I, I... I am. But... something."

"Wow, that was egotistical," Martin dead-panned; "Three I's in one breath?"

"Sarcasm, really?" Sean asked, surprised to hear such a thing from Martin of all people.

"Sorry. But you've done things with guys before. Connor, Kazou, even Matt... you told me that. So how about you relive those good times but with me?" Martin suggested.

Sean nodded; "What do you want me to do?"

"If you plan to wear that thong, you might want to shave your thighs," Martin suggested.

This was a few hours after his conversation with Sean and the Pothos had lines of tables and racks set up for their big sale. Standing in the doorway, with the store behind him, Martin's comment had been directed to a burly looking guy in his mid-twenties who grinned with unnaturally white teeth at the suggestion.

Straight ahead was the escalator to and from the lower floors and to his ten o'clock was Johnson's Coffee Shot; the wall between the Pothos and the coffee shop was lined with sales racks. At Martin's three o'clock ran the long wall of the Pothos and included the glass display window in which Martin had exhibited himself all those months ago; at the far end was the dry cleaners and next to that, at one o'clock was the Photo Shop. The greatest expanse of the fifth floor atrium lay between the entrance to the Pothos Emporium and the two stores on his right.

Martin walked straight forward and stood to the right of the escalator; looking down on the floors below and the people who had no idea what he was about to do.

He turned back and spotted Sean watching him.

Sean had been staring at Martin when he turned around and caught him.

Sean blushed and covered it by picking up a brimmed hat and tossing it to Martin who caught it and dropped it at his feet.

"Can you spare any change?" Martin asked the first person who passed.

"Can you spare any change?" was a phrase one usually heard in town or city centres, spoken by the homeless, by junkies or by non-educated delinquents. Thus, the handsome lad he asked responded merely by crooking his eyebrow Spock-style; translation, "eh?"

Martin unbuttoned his shirt until his bare chest was revealed.

It had begun.

"We'd like to invite anyone who wants see what else in on sale today to make a donation," Martin said, gesturing to his hat for any "spare change" to be placed into.

Martin pulled off his shirt and handed it to the handsome lad and then reached for his belt. No-one knew quite what to say or do and so most just stood stock still in stunned silence. Martin looked up at the handsome boy, hands suspended on the belt, then nodded to the hat.

The lad took out his wallet and dropped a fiver into the hat and then stood back while folding the shirt and adding it to his bag of purchases.

Martin pulled off his belt and offered it to the next man to contribute a donation; the next man got a shoe, ok a pair of shoes agreed Martin after another couple of pounds was added. Socks off with disregard for the cash it accrued; Martin's trousers fell to the floor and the bulge in his briefs was throbbing. He lifted his long legs to extract the trousers and handed them over to the accompaniment of notes that overflowed the hat.

People were paying for the clothes, people were paying to watch, people were paying to see what happened next.

Clad only in his briefs Martin's heart pounded and he was about to take them off when Sean parted the crowd and stood in front of him. Then Sean knelt and gripped the briefs, nearly taking his eye out as he pulled them down and Martin's big dick sprang free.

Martin was naked, he was watched and he felt glorious.

Sean was shitting himself.

Metaphorically.

His breath touched the knob of Martin's cock and Sean ached to put it in his mouth. Sean's own penis was so hard that it ached inside his underpants and he felt so excited that he feared he was going to pop before even being touched.

Martin reached down with his hand and cupped Sean's chin so he looked up; Martin could see Sean was excited and a little scared. Martin actually felt the same.

"I think you're a little overdressed," Martin said.

The crowd who were watching were animated and clearly enthusiastic about what was going to happen next – especially as it was likely to involve another naked guy entering the fray. Sean stood up and pulled off his shoes by holding each heel with the toe of the opposite shoe and pulling out his foot. Sean was wearing ankle socks which were removed easily in much the same way as the shoes.

Martin got to work on the buttons of Sean's shirt; his eyes lifted to take in the scene around him. There was so many men and boys, more than had ever watched him before; to his right was the glass banister over which he had looked earlier to watch the mass of people on the floors below. The noise of those people carried while a hush of sorts descended as Sean's shirt came off.

The crowd were still excited but there was only so much noise that could be made before it would call the unwanted attention of people below or, knock on wood, security staff – even more unwanted. Sean opened his belt and as he dropped his trousers and pulled them off, his foot knocked the money-filled hat over.

The hat was removed by a helpful observer, along with all of Sean's clothes, save for the underpants that covered his modesty. But not for long.

Martin kissed Sean and their tongues met in an exuberant dance. Martin's hands held Sean's hips and moments later, briefs hit the floor and the boy's naked erections were pressed together.

The naked embrace of the two teens was enough to sate the lust of the audience for a short while, but soon they were getting rowdy and wanted to see more than bums and pressed flesh. Thus, Martin and Sean parted and exposed all to the amassed crowd.

Martin did not immediately recognise anyone, well he recognised them well enough to say a polite "hello," mostly regular Pothos customers, but no-one he really knew. Not like last time when he came at the same moment he realised Connor, Kazuo, Sean and Matt were watching.

It was Sean who first spotted someone in the crowd that caused a little concern. He took Martin's hand and pointed out the boy in question: Devon McMann.

It could have been worse, it could have been Mitchell who is a complete ass-hole.

Sean and Martin had been regaled of the story offered by Connor and his naked run: the wrath of McMann was not something either Sean or Martin would have wanted to incur. Devon McMann had a certain reputation at the Earl of Lennox Boys School, certainly not as heavy handed or disliked as his step-brother Mitchell but by no means a saint himself. Although, Devon had probably shown his true colours by seeking out Connor to return his clothes.

Devon was watching, amazed that two of his class mates were totally naked and hard and in public too. Devon was also holding hands with his boyfriend which eased some of Sean's concerns somehow.

Suddenly, Sean's thoughts were elsewhere as his penis was taken in Martin's mouth.

Sean gasped and struggled to keep his knees from buckling; it's not every day that the boy you adore, idolise and desire more than anyone descends to suck your cock.

Sean closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head as Martin licked and wetted his cock and pulled it into the cavern of his mouth again. Sean was thinking about how the day had started; he had been so scared of talking to Martin about going out sometime but it had been so easy in the end. And Martin had said... well, he'd said "sure, maybe," but then he'd also said he had enjoyed fooling around at Valentine's. And Martin was sucking his dick! All things considered, Sean was feeling pretty positive about how things were going with Martin.

Martin was enjoying himself. The attention and adoration of others gave him meaning that he had lost when he broke up with E.J. and though it was not the same kind of adoration it was something, it was enough. Martin did not care that Devon was watching - if anything a boy from his school watching this made it even more embarrassing and therefore more exciting. It was a strange thing that, although he did not always act like it, Martin did find his naked escapades humiliating; it was what made him so hard too.

Sean moaned low and Martin could feel his climax coming and took schadenfreude in denying Sean euphoria... for now at least. Instead, Martin stood up and fondled Sean's balls. Sean's hands responded by gripping Martin's eight inch cock and pulling on it until his hand was smeared with pre-cum.

Sean caught the eyes of several men and boys around him and although his heart was beating fast and Martin had always made this kind of public display look easy, Sean felt equal parts pleasure and terror. He tried not to think about the fact that discrete megapixel cameras installed in most phones nowadays. The boys around his age were of most interest to Sean; cute and beautiful and imagining themselves in his place or in Martin's. He imagined being one of them and watching the scenes of debauchery that were unfolding – it was almost enough to make him cum.

On the floor around Sean and Martin square packets had appeared and it wasn't until Martin stooped to pick one up that Sean noticed them; they were condoms, lots and lots of condoms.

Latex, non-latex, dotted, ribbed, studded, flavoured, ultra thin and even glow in the dark.

Martin picked a textured condom and whispered in Sean's ear; "Do you want to do this?"

"Yes," Sean whispered back desperately; "Oh yes."

"Top or bottom?"

Sean took the condom from him and opened the packet; "I'll put this in my mouth and then you're gonna put it on."

Martin was not sure how that would work and so followed Sean's lead. Sean lay on his back and held the condom in his lips, with the nib facing into his mouth. Martin squatted over Sean and held his dick, pointing it towards Sean's mouth and the waiting condom. As Martin pushed his cock into Sean's mouth, it entered the condom and Sean tightened his lips to squeeze the top. Martin pushed against the pleasurable resistance of Sean's lips and his cock was protected, though he rolled it farther up his long dick just to be sure.

Martin remained where he was, pushing his protected penis in and out of Sean's cock and feeling his balls hit Sean's chin. Having never tea-bagged before, Martin gave it a go; swinging his balls into Sean's face and then lowering them into Sean's mouth to be suckled.

The entire display had been watched with amazement and delight and the crowd was now so big that people near the Pothos' storefront had to stand on something to see over the heads of the rows in front. Martin looked up to see Devon whispering to his boyfriend, what was his name? Connor had told him... Ben, that was it. Devon and Ben were a hot couple!

A strangled sound beneath him told Martin that Sean needed air so he rose to his feet and helped Sean to stand too as a hard floor was not a comfortable thing to lie on for too long. A hard cock on the other hand...

Martin took Sean's hand and led him to the banister – he peeked over the edge with a thrill of being naked and barefoot while the throng below carried on regardless. So near and yet so far. Martin guided Sean's hands onto the rail and then slid his hands down Sean's back; at the hips, Martin's hands glided around to Sean's slim and toned stomach and gently pulled his body back.

Sean took the hint, he shuffled backwards while still holding onto the handrail above the glass banister so his body stretched out and his arse pushed out.

A few paces later, Sean was bent well over.

Not far from the maddening crowd, Martin came into possession of lubricant, which he applied generously to his aching cock and then rubbed and abundant volume onto Sean's bum. Martin's fingers smeared the lubricant into Sean's anus and the sphincter became so slick that Martin pushed two fingers in with no effort at all. How Sean's arse would cope with an eight-plus inch penis remained to be seen.

Sean's dick dripped pre-cum on the floor and over his shoulder he could still see the throng of people about to watch him being fucked by Martin, which only made him harder. Sean felt Martin press the tip of his cock against his hole and push in; Sean's sphincter eased open to permit entry to the massive organ. Sean had had sex before, lots of times, but never felt anything like this. It wasn't just the size – the length and girth – but the whole scenario that set Sean up for a dizzying array of feelings.

Sean felt like he was in love with Martin; lust and longing at least and obsession too. And now he was having sex with Martin in front of a crowd of people. Most of the people were hot too or Sean imagined they were. Perception was so easily tainted - you don't notice the guys with acne or yellow teeth. To Sean's eyes, the people watching were as well groomed and attractive as one could expect from gay guys who frequented a gay store.

Sean's arse struggled to spread enough for Martin's big dick and the pleasure-pain balance was weighted only just in the right direction. It wasn't until Martin eased out and then started to thrust in and out that Sean took a hand off of the rail in front of him and put his fist in his mouth. It was the only way to stop from crying out.

After several deep thrusts, Sean's bum could take in more of the sensations; the texture of the condom as the cock it wrapped went in and out until Sean could have wept with bliss. Martin too was walking a mile with pleasure, the texture of the condom giving him very exciting feelings too. Martin's hands slid up and down Sean's smooth back until one idle hand took the notion to reach around and take hold of Sean's neglected penis. It was sticky and warm and more engorged than it had been when Martin had sucked it.

Looking around at the men and boys watching them, time seemed to slow down. Martin suddenly thought about how Sean was only the second person he had ever had sex with, the first being...

"E.J." Martin whispered.

Sean heard Martin moan but could not make it out.

Martin was pretty sure saying another man's name while you have sex - fuck - them was not complementary and was gratified that Sean hadn't seemed to make it out. Martin continued to thrust and pound and imagined E.J. was the one bent over. More than anything Martin wished it was E.J. here and now and being filled by his penis.

Martin came thinking about his former lover - his kin.

Sean had not came yet but felt Martin climax and continue to push beyond that moment until his balls mush have hurt. When Martin pulled out, he staggered just slightly and Sean turned to face him and watch his big dick sag but remain just as hard. Well, almost as hard at least.

A few condoms were thrown to Sean and he caught one that did not fall fast enough, having landed on his sweaty chest. Sean could hardly believe the opportunity and looked up at Martin for a sign that he should put it on.

Martin smiled and nodded, no words offered but consent unambiguously given. Martin walked towards and then past Sean, his naked body pressed against the glass banister and Sean feared that Martin would stand up on it to display his Adonis form.

But he didn't.

Martin took a step back and then bent all the way forward; his hands planted on the floor, fingertips touching the banister, his face looking down on the oblivious shoppers below and his arse stuck out. Sean wasted no time in pushing his aching dick into Martin's hole; it was tight enough although Sean was not as well-endowed as Martin. Martin had not had sex in two months which, while hardly an era, was long enough for the sphincter to become tense and slow to yield.

Martin enjoyed the feel of Sean's feather-clad penis slide into his bum and he assisted the sex by pushing back as Sean pushed in. Sean's cock went deep enough to touch the sweet spots in Martin's rectum.

Given how excited he was, Sean had been lucky to get his cock in without going off prematurely.

He savoured every moment, every thrust, every miniscule sensation. Never the less, it was less than five minutes before he ejaculated his load and felt his dick start to sag. He pulled out his cock and Martin stood up; he was a little stiff from bending over but he was able to again face the crowd who drank in the sight of the two naked and post-coital seventeen year olds with envy and incredulity.

"Fuck, security is coming," said someone.

The crowd dispersed with impressive speed; as if they were the guilty or the naked, many retreated inside the Pothos Emporium. Others remained looking at the sales racks and tables set up in the atrium that surely smelled of sex, the coffee shop found itself busier too. Ironically, considering they had the most to fear from being caught, the slowest to respond was Sean and Martin. Eventually, Sean bolted for the Pothos, pushing past the people blocking the entrance as he pulled off the cum-filled condom.

Martin didn't have time to wonder about where the condom he took off had gone to, hopefully some pervert was slurping it in the toilets as he ran for the closest place he could find. Martin looked back just as the security man's head appeared at the top of the escalator; he evaded being seen just in the nick of time by pushing his way into the photo studio...

Johnnie had been looking forward to this.

He was going on a date. With a man who actually wanted to go out with him. It was four weeks since he had dabbled with modelling and found the experience wanting. It had been wonderful in its own sexually-gratifying way but Johnnie would remember the day much more profoundly as the day Dean left him a voicemail to ask him out.

Johnnie had been looking forward to this.

This wasn't just a date, it was another date. Their third date in fact. The first had involved coffee and scones, the second drinks in the evening and this one would involve lunch; which was a step in the right "real thing" relationship direction. Which was something Johnnie hadn't thought he would be looking for after the big fat failure that was Calvin. Now the need for it was an obsessive compulsion. - he could not stop thinking about having a proper boyfriend and could not feel normal until he found it.

"You have no idea how glad I am that April fools didn't fall on a school day this year," commented Dean as he slid into the table opposite Johnnie.

Johnnie chuckled and agreed it was probably a good thing; he recalled one April 1st when Calvin had told him towels were a fire hazard and he had to dry himself after a shower using paper tissue. Johnnie was an idiot sometimes.

"The academic year must be coming to a close soon, yea?" Johnnie asked.

Johnnie knew that come May time, the students of most subjects would begin their end of year exams and the teachers could soon look forward to being released from the inquisitive/ gormless faces of their students.

"Another month or so but I'll be busy for a few weeks after that," Dean replied.

"Is Johnnie behaving himself in class?" Johnnie asked.

It was a relatively neutral question but Dean wondered if he had an ulterior motive for asking.

"Yea, he's doing well," Dean replied; "Do you miss him?"

Johnnie looked struck by the question.

"I just mean, you two were thick as thieves. I kind of always thought you guys would end up as a couple... maybe you were a couple?" Dean said.

"No, we weren't really a couple," Johnnie answered; "I wanted to be but he said he was looking for the real thing."

Dean's eyebrows knotted together as he asked: "What does that mean?"

Johnnie smiled in reply, then: "It means he doesn't want to have sex with his best friend anymore."

"Ah, I see."

"He's dating a nice guy now. Daniel. He's a mutual friend. A really nice guy; sensible, dependable, kind, affectionate, thoughtful..." Johnnie found himself listing all the things that made Daniel desirable.

"Sounds like you want to date him," joked Dean.

"I don't. But I get why Calvin would. He wants a proper boyfriend rather than a fuck up like me," Johnnie hadn't indulged in self pity since being rejected by Calvin; it made him sound petty.

"Sounds like you're a bit jealous. Like maybe you were both looking for the same kind of boyfriend thing and while you were finding him he was finding someone else," offered Dean.

"Sure, if you wanna be sensible and insightful about it," Johnnie replied breezily.

"Ok, enough about me. Tell me about why your single, why haven't you been snapped up?" Johnnie asked.

It was a genuine question. Dean was handsome, successful and a good man. Dean was in his mid-twenties and single, Johnnie was surprised by this.

"Oh, well, y'know... I make bad choices sometimes," Dean said enigmatically.

Johnnie made a "huh?" sound.

Dean was reluctant to say more but since Johnnie had worn his heart on his sleeves for daws to peck at, he felt obliged.

"I've kinda had an on, off, on, off, on... off... boyfriend."

"I see. Err, how does that work?" Johnnie asked.

"I want to be with him more than he wants to be with me. And even though he keeps leaving or cheating on me, when he asks I... I still want to be with him so we try again," Dean sounded a little embarrassed by himself.

"Sounds complicated."

"Yea."

"Sound like he doesn't know what he has till it's gone, as the old song goes," Johnnie said though he didn't know who sang the old song. "Is that why he keeps coming back for you?" Jonnie asked.

"Maybe," Dean said, though he sounded unsure; "Anyway Ben's working in Paris last I heard."

"Ah, ze country of louvre," Jonnie said in the worst French accent imaginable.

"I didn't know you spoke French," dead-panned Dean.

Martin couldn't be sure Sean had made it to safely but he was rather worried about himself at this precise moment. He pushed into the Photo Shop and hoped all the hopes he had that there would be no-one in the waiting area.

Because he wouldn't want someone seeing him naked after fucking and being fucked in public? Ok, someone in the waiting area was a moot point.

There was no-one in the waiting area.

Come to think of it, Martin was surprised the shop was open since he was sure Alec Rosenberg, the owner, was meant to be away on business this week.

"Glad you could make it," said a voice from behind the counter.

Martin looked to see Ben behind the counter and then standing at his shoulder was Devon. Martin had had little cause to interact with either boy: actually he knew Ben only by name and Devon only by his step-brothers reputation. Mitchell, Devon's brother was a fud-faced ass-hole; even as Martin thought this he wondered if it was a mixed metaphor.

"It's ok, you're safe in here," Devon said.

"We hoped you'd find your way here. Did you follow us?" Ben asked.

It occurred to Martin they sounded... sultry. Were they coming on to him or did he just have sex on the brain?

"No, I just ran away from the man with the big truncheon," Martin replied with an uncharacteristic quip.

"Oooh, matron," responded Devon in a camp voice.

Martin didn't get it but in fairness, Carry On Matron was made twenty-seven years before he was born. Also, Carry On films suck.

"So, is it the showing off that you enjoy or the sex?" asked Ben beckoning Martin closer.

Martin approached; since they had just watched him and hands can only cover so much, it seemed pointless to cover his cock.

"Both I guess," he answered.

Devon and Ben exchanged looks.

"We prefer our sex less public," Devon admitted; "But we wondered if..."

They exchanged a look again.

"If what?" Martin asked.

Together, they asked: "Have you ever had a threesome?"

Martin had never even entertained the notion. But then he had only met his first and only boyfriend in the last six-ish months and they been broken up for two. Plus it had been a monogamous relationship. Plus Martin had been a little late to mature in the sex department of the teenage boy.

The two lads were good looking, a nice couple and they had just taken their tops off to reveal unremarkable physiques but cute, thin, and fat free. They were typical skinny gay guys.

"Why don't you come through to the back," Ben suggested.

Devon giggled immaturely and gave Ben's arm a limp-wristed slap; "So to speak."

All three laughed at the innuendo and then went through to the back of the shop. Martin noticed the studio lights were on and hoped there would be no professional photos taken. That was not what the lads had in mind.

Ben turned to face Martin and was rewarded with a very close encounter as Martin had been following very close behind. Ben took half a step back and took a long and close look at Martin.

Devon coughed softly.

"Right," Ben said, rallying his concentration; "Er, well, I work here part-time for Mr Rosenberg. That's why I had the keys. We're not actually open this weekend but I figured... what the hell."

"We don't want to put any pressure on you," Devon said.

"But we do want to have sex with you," Ben helpfully chimed in.

They finished each other's sentences... how cute.

"Just one question: Sean. What's up with you two?" Devon asked.

The question seemed important to how things were going to proceed and Martin wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't even know why the question had been aired, but then he was oblivious to the magnitude of Sean's infatuation.

"Eh... nothing," he eventually replied; "We're friends."

"Just friends?" Ben asked; "'Cause you two looked like more than just friends."

"Well, we're not even friends and you want to have sex," Martin answered smoothly.

"True."

"We just don't want to get in the way of anything... special... intimate... that sort of thing."

"There's no sort of thing going on between me and Sean," Martin assured.

"Goodo," Ben said happily; then he kissed Martin.

On the floor in the centre of the room was a swathe of sheets, many of them laid so thick it was like a mattress; the sheets met the back of the studio space where the props had been moved back. The closest of these `props' was a sheet covered bench about half a metre high; it was on this that Devon sat to take off his trainers and socks and pull down his skinny jeans. Then he watched his boyfriend kiss another man; not every boy would be thrilled by this but Martin was just about the most attractive man Devon had ever seen outside of Helix Studio pornography.

Martin could be one of those boys, Devon thought.

When Devon and Ben had watched Martin and Sean strip and have sex, it had been a wild thought to get a closer look. It had been a pipe dream that they might get to touch Martin and seduce him. Devon, and Ben, were rather pleased with how the day was working out. It had been remarkably easy.

Ben pulled his tongue out of Martin's mouth and looked at his boyfriend sitting admiring the view; he held out his hand for Devon to take his and the two lovers kissed while Martin stood behind Ben and pulled down his shorts and underwear. Walking around to behind Devon, he pulled down his underwear too where bare feet easily slipped out. Devon and Ben's bare groins grinded together until they both sported average erections, about six inches long – or perhaps a little over.

Ben and Devon kissed with love and familiarity, their hands caressing and stroking with affection that reminded Martin of what he didn't have any more. The two lovers each grabbed the other's bum and pulled the other close so their erections were trapped between them. Martin watched the frottage long enough to feel left out before stepping forward and adding his mouth to Devon's neck.

While Ben sat to pull off his trainers, no socks, and extract the shorts and pants that were around his ankles, Devon and Martin kissed not with passion or affection but pure unadulterated sexual gratification. Hands gripped cocks and Devon felt a pang of inadequacy at the feel of an eight point two inch cock compared to his average dick.

But then he reminded himself that Martin was the aberration. Yea, Martin was the big-dicked freak; it must be a real burden.

The boys had come with protection and only now did it occur to Martin that they hadn't discussed positions. As if reading his mind the boys piped up about who should be on top.

"We thought we could both put it in you," said Ben.

"At the same time," said Devon.

If Martin had ever seen double penetration he might not have agreed to it, as it was he was excited by the idea.

Both dicks at the same time? Martin could only imagine what that would feel like.

While they wrapped up, Martin stroked his cock that, although had only cum half an hour ago, was already ready to go again. His arse hole had already been stretched from having sex with Sean, still Martin lubed his fingers and pushed them into his hole.

With that done, Martin sat on the sheet-covered bench and rubbed his penis slowly while Devon and Ben sat on the floor facing each other; they splayed their legs then shuffled closer together. Devon's legs slid over Ben's so his knees rested over Ben's; their cocks and balls met so that while Devon fondled their balls together, Ben stroked both their cocks with one hand.

With both erections conjoined and awaiting Martin who stood, stepped over the pair of boys and lowered himself towards their cocks. Martin put his arms behind him, resting his hands on the bench behind him in an exercise resembling a chair dip. Martin's arse hole touched the tip of Devon and Ben's combined penises.

Their dicks were both slick with lube, but the united girth was more than Martin had ever had before and it was difficult to accommodate the force impressed upon his sphincter as he eased himself down.

To their credit, Devon and Ben let Martin take his time though both were clearly excited to get going. Once he was all the way down, Martin was able to press up and the boys underneath him thrust up and down into his anus with short gentle pushes.

Martin's long hard cock bobbed up and down, shooting out from his groin without being touched. Martin's hands were busy suspending him above his lover's erections and although Ben and Devon's hands ran over Martin's body, the angle was all wrong for them to get an adequate sustained grip.

Martin didn't mind, his leaking cock happily dangled in front of him while his arse was filled up. Despite sex with Sean just a short while ago he felt ready to burst as if he had been celibate for a year. His balls were ready to expel another load of his seed and the boys beneath him were also getting close.

Devon and Ben increased their speed until a warm splash could be felt at the tip of both condoms, Martin could feel, or imagined he felt, the heat of the cum contained within the latex. Their combined cocks up Martin's ass meant that a few minutes later (just as the boys were getting blue balls) he also came. He cock erupted, untouched, in a deeply satisfying climax.

Sean had raced from the scene of his sex with Martin and made it inside before the arrival of the security guard. It had been a strange experience to be totally naked, pushing past the crowd of clothed boys, with his cock still wet from orgasm.

He was sure the group had impeded his progress; not to get him into trouble but so they could see him longer, feel him, surreptitiously touch his legs and bum and...

"Hands!"

The guys laughed good naturedly and Sean took the implicit compliment that he was desirable. But there was only one man whom he desired – one boy in all the world whom Sean had set his sights on. So where the hell was Martin?

Sean got dressed into something sensible and went back into the store. The clientele were a little disappointed to see him dressed already and Graham communicated the all clear; the security guard had been alerted to a lot of noise but appreciated Graham was just making good business today.

Failing to find Martin in the store, no-one had seen him since his performance in the atrium, Sean went outside. He looked at the scene of the crime and saw still a few unopened condom wrappers strewn on the floor. There was still a lot of business going to and from the Pothos Emporium and the coffee shop in particular.

Sean thought logically and made his way towards the CleenEasy but it was too sedate to contain a naked seventeen year old - everyone was too relaxed. Sean knew the Photo Shop should be closed but tried the door anyway and it opened easily. Inside, the lights were on but nobody was home. He was about to leave when a sound from the back drew his attention and he made his way towards the studio itself. He nudged the door open quietly for he knew how to recognise the sound of sex.

And then Sean saw it and his heart stopped.

Martin was being fucked by two boys; he recognised them as Devon and Ben. They were having sex with Martin...

Sean thought he and Martin had an understanding, an arrangement of sorts. Had he not asked Martin out this morning? "Maybe we could go out some time? Do something?" He had said, hadn't he?

Sean felt sick to see the boy he adored and desired being...

Martin had just finished and it seemed the boys under him had reached the happy place too while Sean felt his world crash and burn. He wanted to cry, he wanted to be sick.

Martin saw him.

Sean had tears in his eyes and when he went to wipe them away he realised the tears were on his cheek and his nose was leaking too. It was as if hearing had shut off because he realised he was sobbing and the sound had carried into the room.

Sean was half way out the door when he heard; "Martin, you said you and Sean weren't..."

Sean just wanted to escape but his legs were like jelly and his stomach cramped so badly he could taste bile in his throat but for want of somewhere to actually vomit he held it in.

"Sean, wait. What..." Martin said.

Sean turned and even through eyes blinded with tears could see Martin wearing someone else's underpants.

"Fuck you, Martin," Sean answered; because whatever Martin's "what" question was, "fuck you" seemed like the appropriate response.

Martin was struck dumb but eventually caught up with the response; "Sean... I was just..."

"A fucking half hour after you have sex with me, you're giving it to someone else? What, do you just open your legs and put out invites?" Sean said nastily.

Because nothing makes boys cruel like humiliation and heartbreak.

"I thought you wanted me as much as I wanted you?" said Sean.

And Martin finally understood why Sean was so upset and so angry; why Ben had just said: "You said you and Sean weren't a thing."

"I didn't realise I meant so much to you," Martin said sullenly.

"Even if you didn't know, don't you think I deserve more than a half hour before you start giving an fucking encore?" Sean asked.

"That's not fair..."

"It is kind of fair, Martin," Sean interrupted; "I find your naiveté endearing but being fucking oblivious? Are you really that self absorbed? Am I that insignificant? Was sex with me that irrelevant to you? Do you have that little fucking respect for people?"

Martin stood mute and dumb.

Guilt will do that to a man: he had shown Sean no respect and he hadn't given Sean a single thought: irrelevant was about right. And that wasn't right.

More guilt.

"I asked you out, for fuck sake. I thought you wanted to go out with me too," Sean said pathetically.

"I thought you just meant as friends. I didn't think you'd take it so seriously. If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered," Martin replied.

It wasn't quite what he had meant to say but Sean had shouted at him and used the word "fuck" a lot. Sean had made him feel guilty and actually being guilty hadn't helped. Thus Martin had retaliated defensively and only made things worse.

"I'm sorry I wasn't worth the bother then," Sean cried; "We can't all be as sought-after as you."

Sean stormed out and Martin was left feeling like a pretty lousy human being.

"Sorry," Martin said inaudibly to a room full of nobody.

Frazer had enjoyed his first interview with the incumbent manager Anthony Slade. He explained that he would be leaving the Stirling Symposium Athletics Club to head up a new branch. Mr Slade asked about his qualifications and experience and about who he was as a person. Frazer felt that it had gone rather well and so was minimally intimidated by this second interview. He knew he was one of three candidates left and was waiting to see Mr Slade again for round two.

After his first interview, Frazer had been offered a tour of the Symposium and then been guided on a glibly annotated trip around the facilities by Johnnie, by all accounts a new recruit to the team. Johnnie was charming and attractive and entertaining; Frazer could see why, although the newest employee, he had been chosen to show him around.

Another handsome man, and at this Frazer wondered if being good looking was a hiring requirement, made his way over and deposited a glass of water in front of him. His nametag read: John.

"Sorry, the boss... bosses, actually, are running a little late," John said.

"That's ok," Frazer replied.

"You need anything else, just holler."

Frazer wasn't really anxious about the interview, he was confident in his abilities and his suitability for the job but the longer he had to wait, the more antsy he started to get. Then, something happened. On the other side of the vestibule from where he sat, exiting a door leading into the corridor of offices he had visited the last time he was in the Symposium exited a man. Frazer had not seen him for a very long time but he recognised him at once: Ewan Jamieson, Jamie, E.J.

Frazer couldn't not look at him.

Frazer was struck by the similarity between Jamie and his nephew, Martin – Jamie's son. It wasn't so uncanny as to be astounding but the resemblance was there. The height and build, the hair and eye colour; they were both handsome in the conventional sense.

Martin. Frazer had told Martin he had heard Jamie had moved back to the area but didn't know where. Now he knew and now he was burdened with responsibility: to tell Martin or not. To tell Jamie or not.

Could he really keep it a secret? Could he really meet Jamie and not tell Martin about him, not tell his nephew that he had found his father? What kind of person would he be if he kept a secret like that?

"Hi, Frazer Monaghan?" said Jamie, proffering a hand.

Frazer took the hand to shake and was struck dumb. The man didn't just mean something to Martin...

Frazer had no idea how true that was

...He was also the first man Frazer had ever fancied. He'd been a little boy when Jamie left but the emotions bubbled to the surface with all the scary emotions that accompany a major crush coming up to say hello.

"I'm E.J., it's nice to meet you."

"Hi," replied Frazer.

Now what the hell was he going to do?

For a guy who had had sex and came twice in one day, Martin felt pretty crappy. He felt crappy about himself, indulging self absorption again, and he felt guilty about hurting Sean's feelings. He really hadn't meant to - but he had. And worst of all he had been blind to how Sean felt about him. It hadn't even occurred to him how Sean might feel. And he should have seen it, he should have - it was so obvious.

Martin finished the last hour of his working day feeling miserable; Sean having absconded and Martin too ashamed to offer Graham a proper explanation. At the end of the day, Martin was given leave and descended the escalators feeling numb and dumb. He was outside and into a pleasant sunlight, skirting the edge of the shopping centre when a shadow fell across him.

Martin was roughly shoved a short distance and was stopped staggering farther by his collision with a wall. The impact hurt his shoulder and he turned to see Matt whose face was filled with such unbridled fury that Martin cowered and was unable to move. Matt grabbed Martin by his shirt and hauled his forward, then pushed him hard into the wall - his fists digging into Martin's shoulders.

"I tried to warn Sean about you," Matt spat; "But I don't blame him for the way he felt or for not listening when I told him not to set his heart by you."

"Matt, let me go."

"I blame you, you selfish bastard," Matt continued.

"I know," Martin said, economic with his replies out of fear of saying something wrong.

It doesn't take long for a whole world to crash down: Martin, and Sean, knew that better than most.

"You should know..." Matt said breathlessly; "...how hard it is for me to not punch you in the face until your head cracks open," Matt added, before releasing his grip.

Martin straightened himself up and hoped it was over. Martin's respect for the protective brother thing was largely annihilated by fear of physical harm.

"It was so obvious he had a crush on you... It was so obvious how he felt... How could you do that to him?" Matt asked.

"Apparently I'm self-absorbed and have no respect," Martin answered insolently.

"Ever since you broke up with E.J. you've been acting like..."

"Don't you talk about E.J.," Martin fired back.

"I don't want to talk about him. I want to talk about you fucking my brother." A finger like a dagger poked Martin's chest. "Using him, treating him like shit and then ditching him like he was nothing. How about we talk about that?" Matt asked, maybe rhetorically. "How about we talk about you breaking my brother's heart?"

Matt's voice had cracked, rage giving way to lamentation, and Martin felt even worse.

"I don't mean to hurt his feelings," Martin said quietly.

"Yea, but you did. And you did it so easily too," Matt replied.

Martin could see Matt pacing like a wild thing, he really was showing restraint and it occurred to Martin that Matt must care very deeply about his brother to be so incensed.

But Martin could not face taking responsibility: how do you justify not even noticing someone is infatuated? Martin had felt self-destructive and unhinged since losing E.J. and he had no-one to talk to about that. He had used exhibition and sex to (not) deal with it and this was the result. His poor decisions were not just affecting him but people he cared about - because he did care about Sean. Just not in that way.

So why was everyone blaming him? It wasn't all his fault!

Martin wanted to run away.

"I have my own problems. I have things no-one can help me with. No-one is there for me," Martin explained, tears filling his eyes now.

"Well boo-hoo," Matt replied sarcastically.

Now who was self-absorbed and oblivious?

"Look, I didn't mean to hurt Sean. But I don't love your brother, ok?"

"No, but I do," Matt shot back furiously. He was about to leave when he turned back; "And no. It's not ok, you fucking dick."

Frazer was in E.J.'s office and sitting opposite him. While Frazer was smartly dressed for his interview, attired appropriately in a grey pin-striped suit, E.J. was not so much. He was dressed in pale linen trousers and a casual slim-fitting white shirt. E.J. had been dressed in his usual smart black trousers and dress shirt, plus a tie, but it was April fool's day and... well, to make a long story short there wasn't any gold fish in the swimming pool and his staff had pushed him in.

The interview had been a relaxed affair and gave Frazer a false sense of security; all the while he was thinking about what, if anything, he should tell Martin. Also, what, if anything, he should tell E.J.

"So, why do you want to leave your current job?" E.J. asked.

"Well, I feel I have learned a lot from my current job but there comes a point when you start to give back more in experience than you get out in your present vocation. I feel I should move on and enhance my own knowledge and experience before I get complacent," Frazer answered.

E.J. had a note pad in front of him on which he had scribbled a few thoughts on each interviewee. A smile, despite his best efforts to fight it, spread across his face. He was amused.

"What?" asked Frazer.

E.J. looked up at the handsome young man in front of him and laughed.

"Sorry," E.J. replied; "It was a really good answer."

Frazer knotted his brow: so why so amused, he wondered.

"I was just wondering what the real reason for wanting to leave your current job was? You can be honest" E.J. said insightfully.

Frazer sighed; "I work with a bunch of bastards. I'm underpaid, I'm expected to do unpaid overtime, my boss is lazy and stupid and I want to enjoy my work."

"Well... I did ask for honesty. And do you think you would enjoy working here? Why should I give you a job?" E.J. asked pleasantly.

"I wouldn't have applied for the job if I didn't think I'd enjoy it. The Symposium has a good reputation. And you should give me a job because I have management experience, I'm confident enough to speak my mind... as evidenced by my full and frank answers. Also, if you wanted to promote someone who already works for you, I hope you wouldn't have wasted my time and your time and the time of others by inviting me here for a second interview." Frazer's reply put E.J. into a thoughtful silence.

E.J. liked this man; rather more than he was willing to admit actually.

Frazer sat wondering if the full and frank approach had been the way to go but it was too late for `less is more' now.

E.J. responded to Frazer's answer with one more question, he sat back with a relaxed stretch and asked; "Tell me something about you. Not a bullshit answer like `I'm too organised,' I mean something real."

"I like to help old ladies across the road and I give too much money to charity," Frazer deadpanned.

"I knew it," E.J. said, getting into the spirit of things.

It was an odd and comfortable interview with a sort of familiarity that that made both men feel at ease.

"I like to listen to opera," Frazer said, genuinely answering the question.

"Really?" E.J. asked; it wasn't the sort of thing he expected from a man in his mid-twenties.

"First time I ever heard Puccini's Nessun Dorma, I couldn't believe any human could make such a beautiful noise," Frazer elaborated.

E.J. was struck by Frazer's intelligence, articulacy and charm; were they good reasons to employ someone? E.J. worried he was attracted Frazer less as a prospective deputy manager and more as... He didn't like to think about that - things with Martin were still so raw.

They must have been talking for some time because John arrived with a fresh tea and coffee and left them to the interview which was quickly descending into a chat.

Frazer still wasn't sure if he should say anything to or about Martin. E.J. was the first man he had ever been attracted to. Sure, he'd only been five years old at the time, but the heart has a long memory. Besides, Frazer was pretty sure that E.J. was gay.

"I have a confession," Frazer said; "We've met before."

"We have? When?" asked E.J.

"Eighteen or nineteen years ago," he answered and caused E.J.'s eyebrows to test an expression that said "is he joking?"

"You knew my sister, Laura Monaghan... I was her little brother. Your brother was dating one of her friends," Frazer said and as he did he wondered why he had brought it up.

"Oh, gosh. Laura. Yea, of course Frazer Monaghan. My brother Stephen was dating... eh, Anna?" E.J. tried.

"Amy."

"Right, yea."

Frazer could see E.J. thinking; he was thinking a lot of growing up had happened in the last eighteen years. Frazer wondered if he had done the right thing but felt ok about it, so guessed it was fine. He wanted to tell E.J. about Martin but didn't know how. How would that even go?

"I know your son." "What, I have a son?" "Yes, his name is Martin."

Maybe he shouldn't say anything.

Frazer's gaydar had been going off since they had met and he was sure E.J. was gay. This thought recurred many times within Frazer's mind; he had picked up his adolescent crush right where he had left off. All the more reason to not tell him E.J. that had a son; moreover, it made it even harder to tell Martin anything. How would that even go?

"I met your dad." "Really? What's he like." "He's gay." "Like father like son."

Maybe he shouldn't say anything.

"How would you like to work under me?" E.J. asked.

"Pardon?" Frazer replied.

"For me," he quickly corrected; "Not under. For me. With me."

"I'd love to," Frazer answered without hesitation.

"You're the best man for the job, I want to make that clear," E.J. continued; "But I'd like to hear more. How is your sister?"

"She... she passed away from cancer five years ago," Frazer answered.

"Oh. Sorry. I lost my brother to Tony Blair," E.J. said humourlessly.

Silence took the room, broken only once E.J. could think of a neutral way to conclude things.

"Well, I should let you get off. It's a Saturday, you probably have plans. Friends or romance maybe?" E.J. half asked.

What kind of question is that? Was he really fishing to see if this guy was single?

Frazer wondered if E.J. was fishing to find out if he was single; "My friends are broke and so's my romance. But I should still get going."

E.J. chuckled; "It's been nice... it's been great meeting you. And getting to know you a little. I'll check out Puccini sometime."

"What about you?" Frazer asked boldly.

"What about me?"

"Friends or romance?"

"Ah," E.J. answered; "Friends mostly. I'm living with a couple just now," he said of Johnnie and Victor and then realised the answer was a little misleading. "Well, a couple of guys... not a dating couple... two guys... but they are gay... when did I start rambling?"

Frazer chose to find it endearing.

"No romance. I'm extremely undesirable," E.J. joked but meant what he said. It was exactly how he had been made to feel with his latest break up.

"I'm sure that's not true," assured Frazer.

"Not according to my ex," E.J. said quietly; "Martin made himself very clear."

Martin?

Frazer's face had been smiling. The smile froze and then slowly slid off his face.

Suddenly Frazer just knew - he knew in his heart, in his soul, in his liver and his feet and his everything else.

Frazer knew.

Martin.

Frazer felt cold.

Martin felt like shit and knew he had to make things right with Sean. He had to explain why he had done what he'd done; why he had been so selfish, self-absorbed and callous. He had arrived outside Sean's house and stood looking up at the house until the sun was ready for bed and twilight had started to close in.

Martin had betrayed his friend and he wasn't sure he could explain why. He wasn't sure he could explain that - in breaking up with E.J. and the why of it all - he had felt like dying. Martin also hadn't dared attempt to call Frazer to ask about his interview at the Symposium because he was too afraid to hear about E.J.

E.J... Everything was all about him.

Martin couldn't make his brain stop thinking about E.J. and it was making his heart hurt. He had to explain to Sean why he had been all the horrible things that Sean and Matt thought he was.

He pulled out his phone and called Sean's number, it was answered after one ring.

"You've been standing outside my house forever. What the hell do you want?" Sean asked; his voice thick from crying and followed by a sniff.

Martin had been prepared for ongoing hostility but found now that the burden of everything to do with E.J., of his guilt and of Sean's – admittedly justified – resentment was a little too much for him.

"I just came to say," Martin started to reply but found he could not finish as he was chocked by a sob; "I'm sorry, Sean. Sorry, so sorry. I hope you know how hard it was for me to come here."

Sean made no reply but his front door opened and the hard expression that ought to have met Martin was softened by incomprehension.

"I made a mistake but I never meant to hurt you. I know I did but I... I didn't mean... to-to push you away. I'm sorry," Martin wept into his phone.

Sean hung up the phone and closed the distance between them. Martin was crying almost as hard as Sean had been earlier and as much as Sean wanted to still be angry, he couldn't be. He put his arms around Martin and held him while he tried to cry silently.

"C'mon," Sean whispered and led Martin inside.

"I'm an idiot, Sean. Please forgive me," Martin asked.

He was aware of how not only pathetic but also self-indulgent he was being. Sean knew too but accepted it.

"It's not your fault I... felt the way I did. I'm not happy about it but..." Sean stopped and watched Martin for a moment before asking; "Look, what the hell is wrong you?"

"I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to think I'm a freak. But I need to tell someone this because... because I need to tell someone," Martin answered.

More than two months of carrying the weight of the truth about E.J. had grown too much. Today had proved that – it had turned him into someone he didn't want to be. Callous and thoughtless and cruel. Martin still loved E.J. and needed him, but E.J. was the one person who couldn't help.

Sean sat beside Martin and put his arm around his shoulders, his own pain forgotten and put in perspective by Martin's abject grief. Sean handed him tissues and sat quietly.

Martin wiped away tears and snot, yuk, but could not stop. Of this, Martin said; "This is so humiliating."

There was a long moment.

Then Sean smiled.

Then Sean sniggered.

Then Sean laughed.

Martin looked at him.

Then Martin thought about what he had just said.

Martin smiled, then sniggered, then joined in laughing.

THIS was humiliating?

Martin had been exposing and exhibiting himself for more than six months but crying was humiliating. It struck them both as rather amusing.

"E.J. is my dad."

Not funny anymore.

"Oh, wow. Ok. Wow. Right. Ok. I see. Ok... Ok."

It wasn't the most articulate Sean had ever been, but he had had a bit of a shock.

He knew Martin was adopted and over the succeeding minutes, Martin explained what he knew, what he had found out, and how, and then what he had done to E.J. with that knowledge.

"I broke his heart," Martin said, then caught himself and looked in Sean's eyes; "Seems I'm pretty good at that, huh?"

Sean shook his head quietly, dismissing the self-chastisement.

"You've been in pain, Martin. No wonder... I don't really know what to say," Sean admitted.

"There's nothing to say. No one can help..."

"Oh for crying out loud, Martin!" Sean interrupted; "Your problems are admittedly unique for a seventeen year old but you're not beyond help. You're problems are not beyond fixing. You already know what you have to do... You have to talk to E.J."

"I don't know if I can do that," Martin answered.

Martin could not honestly imagine telling E.J. – not ever.

He left Sean's house a while later, with their friendship having taken a slightly different shape but at least it was intact. Martin didn't love Sean (in that way), but he had trusted him a great deal and that meant something to Sean.

Martin pulled out his phone to call home to call home, say he would be back soon and not to worry about him when he realised there was a voicemail message. He listened, discovered it was from Frazer and understood he might not have a choice about coming clean about E.J.

Frazer knew the instant that E.J. had said "Martin" that he was talking about MARTIN.

He gave his nephew the benefit of the doubt that he hadn't known the truth about E.J. when their relationship had started and his heart told him that Martin had ended things when he found out. Who wouldn't? But Frazer could read between the lines; the difficulty Martin had expressed about getting over the man he loved...

It was all a little to take in.

More than anything, Frazer wanted to know how Martin could have let him meet E.J. like this. Not tell him what to expect. Had Martin really thought Frazer would never find out having met both him and E.J.?

Frazer felt cold.

Frazer had been smiling and when his face rearranged itself in the wake of the "M" word, E.J. was left wondering what was wrong. Frazer almost trembled as thoughts, and feelings, overwhelmed him. Frazer cared about Martin and his feelings for E.J.... didn't bear thinking about.

"Are you ok?" E.J. asked.

"I'm sorry," Frazer answered slowly, trying to keep his voice level; "I need to go now."

Frazer fled as gracefully as he could and fought back emotion until he was alone in his car in the Symposium car park. Tears pricked his eyes as he pulled out his phone and called Martin.

Martin had lied to him, a lie of omission at the very least.

There was no answer but voicemail offered to take a message and Frazer obliged.

He found himself crying now.

Crying for Martin and his pain. For E.J. and his pain. For himself and the unfairness of Martin's secret keeping from him.

"Martin, its Frazer. You need to call me back..."

A long pause; the sound of silent sorrow.

"...Why didn't you tell me?"

Please donate to Nifty to keep it free at point of access. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Many thanks to fans who have emailed so far; I invite all readers to contact me if they'd like to comment or say nice things. I'm happy to reply so drop me a message: niftyencomiums@gmail.com

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/