CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion. Poor Sal to go through that with Joe then his father when he was so young. Life is tough at times and being a gay kid is hard. Excellent writing and I look forward to more!
The Original Gay Porn Community - Free Gay Movies and Photos, Gay Porn Site Reviews and Adult Gay Forums
-
Welcome To Just Us Boys - The World's Largest Gay Message Board Community
In order to comply with recent US Supreme Court rulings regarding adult content, we will be making changes in the future to require that you log into your account to view adult content on the site.
If you do not have an account, please register.
REGISTER HERE - 100% FREE / We Will Never Sell Your InfoTo register, turn off your VPN; you can re-enable the VPN after registration. You must maintain an active email address on your account: disposable email addresses cannot be used to register.
Swimming in Basements
- Thread starter ChrisGibson
- Start date
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Chapter Five
Close your eyes and remember. See how this morning is much like the one before. How there is a first time and then a first time and then a first time. But this was the first time, that morning after the football game when, in the small bed, he lay guarded and safe and loved in the arms of Jack Knapp. And what strong arms they were, how rounded and muscular and hot was his whole body. How beautiful he was. And when he stretched, Jack stretched with him, and there was a level on which he wasn’t sure where he ended and Jack began. The only child of two only children, it was a strange feeling because he had always felt alone.
“Hey,” Jack murmured.
“Hey.”
“Jack hugged him tighter and Swann fell into the embrace. He had been afraid of that at first. He wasn’t the kind of person who was protected, or who was cuddled or loved. He wasn’t the kind of person who even looked up to people. He had always known he was on his own. His mother and father had sort of implied that.
Jack, looking drunk with sleepiness, his brown hair sticking up, yawned, directing his morning breath away from Swann.
“My bladder is about to explode,” he declared and, catlike, untangled and moved over Swann, coming out of the bed with more elegance than Swann ever got out of the bed on his own.
Swann reclined on his elbow and Jack grinned at him.
“What?”
“You just look… nice.”
He’d never seen a naked man and Jack was beautiful, all strong thighs and arms, mighty calves, well made chest and stomach, the V line making its way to his groin and to his heavy sexy.
“Well…” Jack looked embarrassed, “you can see more of me when I get back.”
Swann was startled and excited that Jack walked out of his room naked, thrilled by the flash of his buttocks as he closed the door. Swann wondered if he could do that too. There were less people here on the weekend and no one was up. Oh, but he’d be so afraid to be seen. He’d be afraid to get caught. Jack was standing square at a urinal pissing loudly right now and not caring if anyone walked in. In the five minutes Jack was gone, Swann imagined several different versions of himself, and all of those versions never left his room naked.
“I’m baa-aaack,” Jack sang in his flat tenor, opening the door, and locking it behind me. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back comically.
“How ya like me now?”
“What?”
“You said you liked looking at me,”
Swann wanted to laugh. He thought he’d be shy, but instead he got out of bed and took Jack’s face in his hands. He pulled his mouth to his, and pressed his body against Jack’s. One of the most popular, beautiful boys at Saint Francis was in his room, naked, and wanted him. They’d has sex in his bed and he was still here. He ran his hands over his body and kissed him so deeply and Jack, between kisses, murmured, “Goddamn.”
“You’re an animal.”
Swann pulled him back to the bed and the grey sky became the morning sky. He wanted to quit, but he couldn’t be as quiet as he wanted to be. He thrilled at the bed thumping against the wall. His body moved fiercely against Jack’s and Jack’s his, they made an increasing, frantic friction. Pressed under Jack, Swann’s nails dug into his shoulders and, a small scream escaped his mouth Swann’s mouth as, again, he came.
When Jack suggested breakfast, Swann said, “I’m pretty we missed it. The caf always serves it so early.”
“Let’s go to McDonald’s. Throw some clothes on and we’ll do the drive through.”
As they dressed, Swann felt sticky and dirty with all the wonders of the night before, He could still smell the bonfire on his sweat jacket as the two of them left his room.
They sat upstairs in Ben’s huge room meant for two. His roommate had left him.
“I’ve never been able to keep one a whole year.”
All along the walls were posters, Spider Man, the Hulk, no Superman, several Batmans, X-Men. The rugs were old but clean, and Ben’s bookshelves were precisely filled with comic books.
“Halfway through his sandwich Ben said, “Thanks you guys. I was so hungry! You all rest well?”
“Yeah….” Jack and Swann looked at each other. “Yeah.”
“Cool,” Ben said.
Swann had a desire to tell Ben, and he thought Jack did as well. He thought a moment and landed on the compromise:
“Jack stayed in my room last night.”
“Oh!” Ben said, nodding his head and smiling. “Cool. I bet you guys had a great time. I know Jack wanted to spend some one on one time with you.”
Swann went hot and turned away from Jack who had shot him a ravenous look, more like that of a leering wolf than a seventeen year old boy. In his eyes were the memories of the last few hours. Jack on hands and knees, his arms on either side of Swann. Doggy humping, and neither had done it and neither wanted to stop. Jacks teeth in his shoulder. Swann pulling him down and kissing him, sucking on his tongue. Jack grunting through clenched teeth, breathing staggered, body tense. Swann’s memory of his hands filled with heat as Jack comes, hot slickness falling through Swann’s fingers onto his belly. Jack going soft, Swann going hard, the pool of semen between them, the sweat and funk of their bodies no matter as Swann wipes his hands on the firm hills of Jack’s ass, and in a tangle of boy limbs, they fall back into sleep.
But “Jack stayed in my room last night.” “Cool. I bet you guys had a great time. I know Jack wanted to spend some one on one time with you.” was a much as they said about it.
Jack wondered if he’d be able to eat lunch after having breakfast so late. But the capacity for both sleeping and eating was unlimited in teenage boys, and as soon as Ben had fallen asleep with an X-Man comic on his face, Jack directed Swann to get his clothes and stuff and bring them up to his room and then, taking him by the hand, they went to the showers to bathe.
“My dad went here,” Jack noted, unwrapping his towel and hanging it on the hook. “He said back then there were no hooks or partitions, just a row of showerheads.”
The part of Swann that Jack was awakening was thrilled by this, but the part of Swann that didn’t take off a towel until he was in the shower knew he’d hate that.
Jack had already slipped into the water, and as an upper classman came in, Swann remove his towel, put it on the hook and slipped in too. Jack gave him first crack at the water, and then as Jack stood under the shower head and the residual water still warmed Swann, he washed Jack’s back, and his buttocks and between his buttocks. He went to his knees and washed his calves from the back, turned him around, washed all of him. Jack did the same for him, and if the washing turned to kissing, turned to more, it was no less thorough for that.
Close your eyes and remember. See how this morning is much like the one before. How there is a first time and then a first time and then a first time. But this was the first time, that morning after the football game when, in the small bed, he lay guarded and safe and loved in the arms of Jack Knapp. And what strong arms they were, how rounded and muscular and hot was his whole body. How beautiful he was. And when he stretched, Jack stretched with him, and there was a level on which he wasn’t sure where he ended and Jack began. The only child of two only children, it was a strange feeling because he had always felt alone.
“Hey,” Jack murmured.
“Hey.”
“Jack hugged him tighter and Swann fell into the embrace. He had been afraid of that at first. He wasn’t the kind of person who was protected, or who was cuddled or loved. He wasn’t the kind of person who even looked up to people. He had always known he was on his own. His mother and father had sort of implied that.
Jack, looking drunk with sleepiness, his brown hair sticking up, yawned, directing his morning breath away from Swann.
“My bladder is about to explode,” he declared and, catlike, untangled and moved over Swann, coming out of the bed with more elegance than Swann ever got out of the bed on his own.
Swann reclined on his elbow and Jack grinned at him.
“What?”
“You just look… nice.”
He’d never seen a naked man and Jack was beautiful, all strong thighs and arms, mighty calves, well made chest and stomach, the V line making its way to his groin and to his heavy sexy.
“Well…” Jack looked embarrassed, “you can see more of me when I get back.”
Swann was startled and excited that Jack walked out of his room naked, thrilled by the flash of his buttocks as he closed the door. Swann wondered if he could do that too. There were less people here on the weekend and no one was up. Oh, but he’d be so afraid to be seen. He’d be afraid to get caught. Jack was standing square at a urinal pissing loudly right now and not caring if anyone walked in. In the five minutes Jack was gone, Swann imagined several different versions of himself, and all of those versions never left his room naked.
“I’m baa-aaack,” Jack sang in his flat tenor, opening the door, and locking it behind me. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back comically.
“How ya like me now?”
“What?”
“You said you liked looking at me,”
Swann wanted to laugh. He thought he’d be shy, but instead he got out of bed and took Jack’s face in his hands. He pulled his mouth to his, and pressed his body against Jack’s. One of the most popular, beautiful boys at Saint Francis was in his room, naked, and wanted him. They’d has sex in his bed and he was still here. He ran his hands over his body and kissed him so deeply and Jack, between kisses, murmured, “Goddamn.”
“You’re an animal.”
Swann pulled him back to the bed and the grey sky became the morning sky. He wanted to quit, but he couldn’t be as quiet as he wanted to be. He thrilled at the bed thumping against the wall. His body moved fiercely against Jack’s and Jack’s his, they made an increasing, frantic friction. Pressed under Jack, Swann’s nails dug into his shoulders and, a small scream escaped his mouth Swann’s mouth as, again, he came.
When Jack suggested breakfast, Swann said, “I’m pretty we missed it. The caf always serves it so early.”
“Let’s go to McDonald’s. Throw some clothes on and we’ll do the drive through.”
As they dressed, Swann felt sticky and dirty with all the wonders of the night before, He could still smell the bonfire on his sweat jacket as the two of them left his room.
They sat upstairs in Ben’s huge room meant for two. His roommate had left him.
“I’ve never been able to keep one a whole year.”
All along the walls were posters, Spider Man, the Hulk, no Superman, several Batmans, X-Men. The rugs were old but clean, and Ben’s bookshelves were precisely filled with comic books.
“Halfway through his sandwich Ben said, “Thanks you guys. I was so hungry! You all rest well?”
“Yeah….” Jack and Swann looked at each other. “Yeah.”
“Cool,” Ben said.
Swann had a desire to tell Ben, and he thought Jack did as well. He thought a moment and landed on the compromise:
“Jack stayed in my room last night.”
“Oh!” Ben said, nodding his head and smiling. “Cool. I bet you guys had a great time. I know Jack wanted to spend some one on one time with you.”
Swann went hot and turned away from Jack who had shot him a ravenous look, more like that of a leering wolf than a seventeen year old boy. In his eyes were the memories of the last few hours. Jack on hands and knees, his arms on either side of Swann. Doggy humping, and neither had done it and neither wanted to stop. Jacks teeth in his shoulder. Swann pulling him down and kissing him, sucking on his tongue. Jack grunting through clenched teeth, breathing staggered, body tense. Swann’s memory of his hands filled with heat as Jack comes, hot slickness falling through Swann’s fingers onto his belly. Jack going soft, Swann going hard, the pool of semen between them, the sweat and funk of their bodies no matter as Swann wipes his hands on the firm hills of Jack’s ass, and in a tangle of boy limbs, they fall back into sleep.
But “Jack stayed in my room last night.” “Cool. I bet you guys had a great time. I know Jack wanted to spend some one on one time with you.” was a much as they said about it.
Jack wondered if he’d be able to eat lunch after having breakfast so late. But the capacity for both sleeping and eating was unlimited in teenage boys, and as soon as Ben had fallen asleep with an X-Man comic on his face, Jack directed Swann to get his clothes and stuff and bring them up to his room and then, taking him by the hand, they went to the showers to bathe.
“My dad went here,” Jack noted, unwrapping his towel and hanging it on the hook. “He said back then there were no hooks or partitions, just a row of showerheads.”
The part of Swann that Jack was awakening was thrilled by this, but the part of Swann that didn’t take off a towel until he was in the shower knew he’d hate that.
Jack had already slipped into the water, and as an upper classman came in, Swann remove his towel, put it on the hook and slipped in too. Jack gave him first crack at the water, and then as Jack stood under the shower head and the residual water still warmed Swann, he washed Jack’s back, and his buttocks and between his buttocks. He went to his knees and washed his calves from the back, turned him around, washed all of him. Jack did the same for him, and if the washing turned to kissing, turned to more, it was no less thorough for that.
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was interesting to see more of Jack with Swann. They are clearly having a great time together and I am interested to read what happens with them.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Y
Yay! I do love Jack and Swann together, and there will be more soon.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
In the cafeteria they ate with a hunger that belied breakfast and Ben got a second Sloppy Joe and declared, “Swann, I’m glad you’re around.”
“Thanks?”
Swann laughed.
“No, for real.”
He touched Jack.
“This was one grumpy guy before.”
“I wasn’t!” Jack took a roll and lobbed it at Ben.
“He never broke rules,” Ben continued. “Why, you know what? It was me who got him to go to Lafayette that night. He’s such an old man.”
Swann grinned and said, “Really? He never seemed like an old man.”
“That’s because you only see him when he’s around you,” Ben said. “ You change him.”
“Well, how do ya like that?” Jack said in a mocking voice, to Swann, “you change me.
“I like it just fine,” Swann said, and shoved Jack’s shoulder.
He gasped as, under the table, Jack’s hand squeezed his thigh
But now, with his other hand, Jack was waving to Chris Navarro, and the tall boy from last night, who had just entered the cafeteria, waved back before getting in the lunchline.
“We got a good crop of Freshmen this year,” Ben remarked, and a few minutes later, with in jeans and a short sleeved polo shirt, Chris was approaching them with his lunch tray.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Me and Chris are going to the mall after lunch,” Swann said while the others nodded for Chris to sit down.
“Oh, cool,” Jack said.
“Our Swann doesn’t have enough friends in his year,” Ben said in a fatherly tone, and Swann couldn’t tell if it was mocking or not.
Jack seemed to be of the same opinion.
“How are you guys going?”
“The bus,” Chris said.
“On Saturday?” Jack shook his head. “I’ll drive you all.”
“That’s not necessary,” Chris said.
“It’s not necessary,” Swann agreed, “but I’m not going to say no.”
“Buses only travel once an hour on Saturday, and all the routes don’t run today. Me and Ben were doing stuff, so we could just drop you guys off.”
Ben nodded. “Just let us know how much time you need.”
“Or find a pay phone,” Jack said.
“Either way,” said Ben.
Chris listened to all of this, nodded and said, “Thanks, guys.”
Chris was discovering what Swann had slowly been learning. He had done things on his own and been used to no support and no friends. The group of boys, which would grow and shrink and change but would get them through the next four years, was forming.
He began to hate his parents less. He had imagined there would be no happiness at Saint Francis, and the first weeks had contained misery and there were still assholes and unpleasantries, but now he had friends. Now there was someone who wanted to go to the bookstore with him. Chris was in the science fiction section and Swann was in religion when suddenly, Chris hissed, “Swann! Swann!”
He was in the row on the other side of where Swann stood and Swann rounded it and saw a book called Pleasure for Him, Pleasure for Her. He blinked and looked around and realized they were in the midst of expensive, hardbound sex manuals, and Chris was flipping through a large book which he now sat on the ground with. This book had real people, several different white couples, some mixed race, all demonstrating sexual positions and in acts of simulated fucking. Plenty of small print gave directions on how to do what was demonstrated as well as what caused pleasure and what usually did not.
In baited breath, without a hint of giggling, Chris solemnly read: “Slow, deep strokes will give her the most pleasure. As for men, the mistake is concentrating on the shaft when much attention should be paid to the….” Chris’s voice went shallow as he whispered to Swann, “the V spot beneath the head of the penis.”
Chris continued reading. He murmured, “Tug on scrotum...”
“This is going to come in really handy when we start having sex,” Chris noted. Years later, they would laugh over this memory in bed, for that day Chris had not been insinuating that they would be having it with each other.
“Or just for masturbation,” Swann said frankly.
“You do that?” Chris sounded shocked.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“But it’s bad. I mean, it’s a sin? Don’t you feel guilty?”
“Not really,” Swann said. “There are so many real things to feel guilty about.”
“Oh, my God,” Chris slammed the book closed a little too hard for something he didn’t own.
“You are like, the coolest person I’ve ever known.”
“You’re pretty cool yourself. I mean, that whole guitar thing.”
“I could teach you.”
“No,” Swann said honestly. “But I’d like to listen to you sing.”
“Cool beans.”
“Who says that?”
Chris wiggled his fingers, made a swimming motion and then turned them into a fist.
“What’s that?”
“It’s our secret handshake.”
“Sure,” Swann shrugged, “what the hell.”
And he reciprocated.
He turned around for the next book and pulled down, The Joy of Gay Sex.
“Wow! Was all Chris said. “You’re fearless.”
Fearlessly, Swann opened it up and the boys began thumbing through it.
“What we’re doing,” Chris said solemnly, “we cannot share with others.”
“No doubt,” Swann remarked.
They turned the heavy pages solemnly, not daring to look at each other. Some were illustrated, but on some actual men were doing actual things with each other.
After a while Chris swallowed and said, “I…. I never knew it was real. It was like… something you called someone. But… it’s real. Real people do this.”
Swann nodded as, moving through the pages, he saw what he and Jack had not done, but had been on the edge of doing. When he saw one man bent on his fours, taking another man into him, he almost swooned. He recovered from a feeling hotter even than when he’d seen Jack naked for the first time as he read carefully about all the different ways–some of them ridiculously athletic–liked to be fucked.
“But it’s supposed to be wrong,” Chris said.
And then he said, “Is this one of those cases again of something’s supposed to be wrong, but really it’s just we’re stupid, and people with sense don’t think anything of it? Because look, right here, here’s a whole book on it.”
“You might be a little right,” Swann said
“It doesn’t look wrong,” Chris said, dismally. “Or at least not any more wrong than the first book. You know, I’m beginning to think Catholic school may not be the right place to learn about sex.”
“I think the Midwest isn’t the right place to learn about sex,” Swann said.
Then he said, “I think what people do with each other is their business.”
“Are you a virgin, Swann?” Chris asked, his voice still solemn.
“Uh….”
“Because I have a confession. I’m not. I know I should be, and I almost am. But I’m not. I was a counselor at summer camp, and me and this girl got together and went too far, and it’s sort of weighed on me because people think I’m good, and… She wasn’t really a girlfriend, and we weren’t committed, and I know it was a sin. I mean…. You’re not supposed to lose it in the eighth grade. And… I haven’t really told anyone that.”
“No,” Swann said. “I’m not a virgin.”
Chris looked relieved and Swann was not going into details, especially not that it had just happened with Jack last night.
“Are you coming with us?” Swann said. “I mean, I don’t know what Chris and Ben are going to do, but I think they’ll invite us.”
“Yes!” Chris said, excitedly.
“Good. It’s time for us to go. I have another confession,” Swann said.
“Okay?”
Swann knitted his brow and thought about the book in his hands.
“I’m about to steal this book.”
And then he did.
“Thanks?”
Swann laughed.
“No, for real.”
He touched Jack.
“This was one grumpy guy before.”
“I wasn’t!” Jack took a roll and lobbed it at Ben.
“He never broke rules,” Ben continued. “Why, you know what? It was me who got him to go to Lafayette that night. He’s such an old man.”
Swann grinned and said, “Really? He never seemed like an old man.”
“That’s because you only see him when he’s around you,” Ben said. “ You change him.”
“Well, how do ya like that?” Jack said in a mocking voice, to Swann, “you change me.
“I like it just fine,” Swann said, and shoved Jack’s shoulder.
He gasped as, under the table, Jack’s hand squeezed his thigh
But now, with his other hand, Jack was waving to Chris Navarro, and the tall boy from last night, who had just entered the cafeteria, waved back before getting in the lunchline.
“We got a good crop of Freshmen this year,” Ben remarked, and a few minutes later, with in jeans and a short sleeved polo shirt, Chris was approaching them with his lunch tray.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Me and Chris are going to the mall after lunch,” Swann said while the others nodded for Chris to sit down.
“Oh, cool,” Jack said.
“Our Swann doesn’t have enough friends in his year,” Ben said in a fatherly tone, and Swann couldn’t tell if it was mocking or not.
Jack seemed to be of the same opinion.
“How are you guys going?”
“The bus,” Chris said.
“On Saturday?” Jack shook his head. “I’ll drive you all.”
“That’s not necessary,” Chris said.
“It’s not necessary,” Swann agreed, “but I’m not going to say no.”
“Buses only travel once an hour on Saturday, and all the routes don’t run today. Me and Ben were doing stuff, so we could just drop you guys off.”
Ben nodded. “Just let us know how much time you need.”
“Or find a pay phone,” Jack said.
“Either way,” said Ben.
Chris listened to all of this, nodded and said, “Thanks, guys.”
Chris was discovering what Swann had slowly been learning. He had done things on his own and been used to no support and no friends. The group of boys, which would grow and shrink and change but would get them through the next four years, was forming.
He began to hate his parents less. He had imagined there would be no happiness at Saint Francis, and the first weeks had contained misery and there were still assholes and unpleasantries, but now he had friends. Now there was someone who wanted to go to the bookstore with him. Chris was in the science fiction section and Swann was in religion when suddenly, Chris hissed, “Swann! Swann!”
He was in the row on the other side of where Swann stood and Swann rounded it and saw a book called Pleasure for Him, Pleasure for Her. He blinked and looked around and realized they were in the midst of expensive, hardbound sex manuals, and Chris was flipping through a large book which he now sat on the ground with. This book had real people, several different white couples, some mixed race, all demonstrating sexual positions and in acts of simulated fucking. Plenty of small print gave directions on how to do what was demonstrated as well as what caused pleasure and what usually did not.
In baited breath, without a hint of giggling, Chris solemnly read: “Slow, deep strokes will give her the most pleasure. As for men, the mistake is concentrating on the shaft when much attention should be paid to the….” Chris’s voice went shallow as he whispered to Swann, “the V spot beneath the head of the penis.”
Chris continued reading. He murmured, “Tug on scrotum...”
“This is going to come in really handy when we start having sex,” Chris noted. Years later, they would laugh over this memory in bed, for that day Chris had not been insinuating that they would be having it with each other.
“Or just for masturbation,” Swann said frankly.
“You do that?” Chris sounded shocked.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“But it’s bad. I mean, it’s a sin? Don’t you feel guilty?”
“Not really,” Swann said. “There are so many real things to feel guilty about.”
“Oh, my God,” Chris slammed the book closed a little too hard for something he didn’t own.
“You are like, the coolest person I’ve ever known.”
“You’re pretty cool yourself. I mean, that whole guitar thing.”
“I could teach you.”
“No,” Swann said honestly. “But I’d like to listen to you sing.”
“Cool beans.”
“Who says that?”
Chris wiggled his fingers, made a swimming motion and then turned them into a fist.
“What’s that?”
“It’s our secret handshake.”
“Sure,” Swann shrugged, “what the hell.”
And he reciprocated.
He turned around for the next book and pulled down, The Joy of Gay Sex.
“Wow! Was all Chris said. “You’re fearless.”
Fearlessly, Swann opened it up and the boys began thumbing through it.
“What we’re doing,” Chris said solemnly, “we cannot share with others.”
“No doubt,” Swann remarked.
They turned the heavy pages solemnly, not daring to look at each other. Some were illustrated, but on some actual men were doing actual things with each other.
After a while Chris swallowed and said, “I…. I never knew it was real. It was like… something you called someone. But… it’s real. Real people do this.”
Swann nodded as, moving through the pages, he saw what he and Jack had not done, but had been on the edge of doing. When he saw one man bent on his fours, taking another man into him, he almost swooned. He recovered from a feeling hotter even than when he’d seen Jack naked for the first time as he read carefully about all the different ways–some of them ridiculously athletic–liked to be fucked.
“But it’s supposed to be wrong,” Chris said.
And then he said, “Is this one of those cases again of something’s supposed to be wrong, but really it’s just we’re stupid, and people with sense don’t think anything of it? Because look, right here, here’s a whole book on it.”
“You might be a little right,” Swann said
“It doesn’t look wrong,” Chris said, dismally. “Or at least not any more wrong than the first book. You know, I’m beginning to think Catholic school may not be the right place to learn about sex.”
“I think the Midwest isn’t the right place to learn about sex,” Swann said.
Then he said, “I think what people do with each other is their business.”
“Are you a virgin, Swann?” Chris asked, his voice still solemn.
“Uh….”
“Because I have a confession. I’m not. I know I should be, and I almost am. But I’m not. I was a counselor at summer camp, and me and this girl got together and went too far, and it’s sort of weighed on me because people think I’m good, and… She wasn’t really a girlfriend, and we weren’t committed, and I know it was a sin. I mean…. You’re not supposed to lose it in the eighth grade. And… I haven’t really told anyone that.”
“No,” Swann said. “I’m not a virgin.”
Chris looked relieved and Swann was not going into details, especially not that it had just happened with Jack last night.
“Are you coming with us?” Swann said. “I mean, I don’t know what Chris and Ben are going to do, but I think they’ll invite us.”
“Yes!” Chris said, excitedly.
“Good. It’s time for us to go. I have another confession,” Swann said.
“Okay?”
Swann knitted his brow and thought about the book in his hands.
“I’m about to steal this book.”
And then he did.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Jack and Ben were waiting for them outside the Marshall’s, and when they saw Swann strolling to the car behind a very nervous Chris Navarro, Jack reached back to open the door.
“You gotta book,” he said, noticing the swell in Swann’s bag.
Chris got in and closed the door tight.
“Yes, I did,” Swann said.
“We should probably get moving,” Chris Navarro said.
When Jack looked at him in surprise, Chris added, “You know—cars behind us. Might be waiting for folks like you were.”
“That is very considerate of you,” Jack said after a moment. “You guys doing anything?”
“Going to dinner in the calf, then looking at the ceiling.”
“Good. Good. Me and Ben were going to my mom and dad’s for dinner, and mom said it would be fine if I brought friends. You wanna do that?” Jack was asking as they were driving around the lot, looking for an exit.
Swann looked to Chris.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “That would be great.”
“And then we’re going with some of my friends at Saint Anne’s to a party.”
“Can I invite my friends from Saint Anne?” Swann said.
“Sure, why not. We’ll head back to school to get cleaned up. How’s that sound?”
Again, Swann looked at his new friend for confirmation, then said, “It sounds great.”
Anne came over while everyone was still getting dressed. Upstairs, Ben and Jack were showering and spraying on plenty of Old Spice, and back at the girls’ school, Anne’s friends and Ben and Jack’s were dressing too.
“They do realize we’re going to some pot den in Wallington and not a cotillion?” Anne said.
She was in bellbottomed jeans and a mustard yellow sweater, red hair combed out and hanging down her shoulders. She looked effortless right, and Swann admired it. He could not see himself from the outside so he never understood when people said the same about him
“I haven’t seen you in a week and that’s a week too long,” Swann said, and he told her all about the campfire and Chris playing the guitar, and how they had come back to school around one in the morning.
At this point he stopped and said, “We’re friends?”
“What a question!”
“Then I’m about to tell you this…”
And so he told her while her face changed with surprised and the delight, about spending the night with Jack, and the next morning, and going to the bookstore with Chris and then walking out the store casually while Chris was sweating bullets.
“Well, you had to have the book,” Jill said, sensibly, “or else how are you going to really know what to do with Jack? I mean, they don’t teach that in sex ed.”
And then she said, “Well can I see the book?”
“Oh? Oh!” Swann said. “Well, just reach under you. It’s right beneath the bed.”
Jill did, and the two of them sat reading.
“Oh wow, are you doing to do that with him?”
“I think ideally we’re going to do it with each other.”
“It looks like it would hurt… But they look like it feels good.”
“It must if everyone smiles when it happens.”
Suddenly Chris Navarro, in khaki’s, and a white tee shirt under an open dress shirt swung in.
“You guys, ready for a party?”
“Not really,” Swann and Jill said, then looked at each other.
Chris came into the room and sat on the other side of Swann, throwing his arm over his shoulder and rubbing his back.
“You two are the Famous Freshmen of the infamous Lafayette party. Of course you’re ready. I’m hoping you’ll show me the sights.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Just a little,” Chris confessed, “and Edgar Allenby—he sounds like someone from the American Revolution—gave me a meltaway that’s loaded with weed.”
Chris put down the bag between them.
“You guys get yourselves a few. Oh my God, that’s the book! I was so scared I was going to get arrested.”
“You know, I’m probably talking too much, but this book excites me even more than the first. I mean I like girls and all, but I still think about guys. I mean, not all the time, but I need to see this book.”
Swann examined the chocolate candy, bit half off it, sagely, and nodded while Jill took the other half.
“Guys, you can totally get more. I gotta go to the bathroom.”
As Chris stood up, Jill said, “You’re beautiful. I can’t keep that to myself.”
“Thanks!” the boy with the golden halo of hair said, smiling brightly at her.
“And you have a nice ass,” she added.
This was true. Swann nodded.
“Thank you,” Chris said, giggling at the ceiling.
As he left the room he shouted back, “You have great tits.”
“I like him,” Jill reflected.
As Chris disappeared Jill said, “That’s the Chris you went to the bookstore with?”
“Yeah?”
“Your new friend.”
“Uh, huh.”
“You’re going to have sex with him.”
“You gotta book,” he said, noticing the swell in Swann’s bag.
Chris got in and closed the door tight.
“Yes, I did,” Swann said.
“We should probably get moving,” Chris Navarro said.
When Jack looked at him in surprise, Chris added, “You know—cars behind us. Might be waiting for folks like you were.”
“That is very considerate of you,” Jack said after a moment. “You guys doing anything?”
“Going to dinner in the calf, then looking at the ceiling.”
“Good. Good. Me and Ben were going to my mom and dad’s for dinner, and mom said it would be fine if I brought friends. You wanna do that?” Jack was asking as they were driving around the lot, looking for an exit.
Swann looked to Chris.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “That would be great.”
“And then we’re going with some of my friends at Saint Anne’s to a party.”
“Can I invite my friends from Saint Anne?” Swann said.
“Sure, why not. We’ll head back to school to get cleaned up. How’s that sound?”
Again, Swann looked at his new friend for confirmation, then said, “It sounds great.”
Anne came over while everyone was still getting dressed. Upstairs, Ben and Jack were showering and spraying on plenty of Old Spice, and back at the girls’ school, Anne’s friends and Ben and Jack’s were dressing too.
“They do realize we’re going to some pot den in Wallington and not a cotillion?” Anne said.
She was in bellbottomed jeans and a mustard yellow sweater, red hair combed out and hanging down her shoulders. She looked effortless right, and Swann admired it. He could not see himself from the outside so he never understood when people said the same about him
“I haven’t seen you in a week and that’s a week too long,” Swann said, and he told her all about the campfire and Chris playing the guitar, and how they had come back to school around one in the morning.
At this point he stopped and said, “We’re friends?”
“What a question!”
“Then I’m about to tell you this…”
And so he told her while her face changed with surprised and the delight, about spending the night with Jack, and the next morning, and going to the bookstore with Chris and then walking out the store casually while Chris was sweating bullets.
“Well, you had to have the book,” Jill said, sensibly, “or else how are you going to really know what to do with Jack? I mean, they don’t teach that in sex ed.”
And then she said, “Well can I see the book?”
“Oh? Oh!” Swann said. “Well, just reach under you. It’s right beneath the bed.”
Jill did, and the two of them sat reading.
“Oh wow, are you doing to do that with him?”
“I think ideally we’re going to do it with each other.”
“It looks like it would hurt… But they look like it feels good.”
“It must if everyone smiles when it happens.”
Suddenly Chris Navarro, in khaki’s, and a white tee shirt under an open dress shirt swung in.
“You guys, ready for a party?”
“Not really,” Swann and Jill said, then looked at each other.
Chris came into the room and sat on the other side of Swann, throwing his arm over his shoulder and rubbing his back.
“You two are the Famous Freshmen of the infamous Lafayette party. Of course you’re ready. I’m hoping you’ll show me the sights.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Just a little,” Chris confessed, “and Edgar Allenby—he sounds like someone from the American Revolution—gave me a meltaway that’s loaded with weed.”
Chris put down the bag between them.
“You guys get yourselves a few. Oh my God, that’s the book! I was so scared I was going to get arrested.”
“You know, I’m probably talking too much, but this book excites me even more than the first. I mean I like girls and all, but I still think about guys. I mean, not all the time, but I need to see this book.”
Swann examined the chocolate candy, bit half off it, sagely, and nodded while Jill took the other half.
“Guys, you can totally get more. I gotta go to the bathroom.”
As Chris stood up, Jill said, “You’re beautiful. I can’t keep that to myself.”
“Thanks!” the boy with the golden halo of hair said, smiling brightly at her.
“And you have a nice ass,” she added.
This was true. Swann nodded.
“Thank you,” Chris said, giggling at the ceiling.
As he left the room he shouted back, “You have great tits.”
“I like him,” Jill reflected.
As Chris disappeared Jill said, “That’s the Chris you went to the bookstore with?”
“Yeah?”
“Your new friend.”
“Uh, huh.”
“You’re going to have sex with him.”
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was an excellent portion! Good to see Swann having so much social interaction. He is getting to know Chris better and while I know what happens between them eventually, this is still interesting. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Matt, i'm glad you're enjoying the story and sorry we didn't get to talk much this weekend. I hope you enjoyed yourself
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
And so we arrive at the end of Chapter Five!
Three cars—one with Jack and Ben, and Chris, one with Susanne and Betsy and their friends and the last with Jill and her friends—were zooming over the speed limit. Ben said since he’d had shotgun all yesterday, Swann should ride next to Chris.
Chris blasted up the radio, and they tried to sing along.
Realize, I don't want to be a miser
Confide with sly, you'll be the wiser
Young blood is the lovin' upriser
How come everybody wanna keep it like the Kaiser?
They laughed and sang:
Give it away, give it away, give it away, now
Give it away, give it away, give it away, now
Give it away, give it away, give it away, now
I can't tell, if I'm a king pin or a pauper
Behind Swann, Chris leaned forward and threw his arms on Swann’s shoulders, and if no one else noticed, Jill did.
Jill said, “I can’t decide if getting high was a good idea or not.”
Acknowledging the strobe lights and the lights that swirled, Swann said, “I’m not sure if it would have made much of a difference.”
“Hey, what’s your name?” a guy came up to Jill.
“My name’s Tammy,” she said. “What’s yours?”
“York.”
“York like New York.”
“I’d be new for you, baby.”
“I bet you would.”
“Say, you wanna come back to my room?”
“I’m with my boyfriend.”
“Hey, honey,” Swann, said who had been listening, but unseen by the guy hitting Jill up.
“Baby, this is my friend, York.”
“I’m gonna get going,” York said.
“Bye, York”
“What’s that old phrase? Birds of a feather flock together–”
“Or get raped alone.”
“Speaking of, where is everyone?”
“Jack and the senior gang are over there. My ladies are there… Except Lucy. So we know what she’s up too. And Chris… Oh,”
Swann’s new tall friend could be seen in the reddish blue light, head a little bowed, leading a girl out of the large room.
“Well, I guess I won’t be having sex with him.” Swann said.
“Not today,” Jill agreed. “But, I mean the things he said. The way he acts.”
“The way who acts?”
“Don’t do that!” Swann said to Jack. “That sneaking up behind us.”
“We were talking about Chris. He’s sneaking off with a girl.”
“We gotta get him!” Jack said.
When Swann looked at him sharply, Jack said, “We’re like his chaperones. He’s a kid. He’s fourteen and this is a college party.
“He’s the same age as me,” Swann said.
“I’m going to go find Tamara,” Jill excused herself.
They waited till she was done and Swann said, “She’s probably not much older than you.”
“She probably is, and Chris is a kid. And we’re supposed to watch out for him,” Jack said, “and he doesn’t know her, and,” Jack said quickly, in an urgent whisper: “I’m in love with you.”
Swann caught Jack’s hand, and Jack squeezed his. They went in the same direction as Chris. Swann thought they wouldn’t find him but he soon realized there were only so many places you could go, so many rooms that people could disappear into.
“Jack,” Swann said. “Let me get him. He’s my friend? Okay?”
Jack nodded and said, “I’ll be in the living room, and Swann nodded his head too.
He waited till Jack was gone, then tested one door, another, this door. and there was Chris, all for him, long and naked with tapered back to small ass, moving like a up and down, and there was the girl beneath him, and when Swann went into the room he walked alongside the bed and watched Chris move in and out of her, Chris rise up on his hands and press in and out as her legs reached up and hooked around his hips, Chris push down into her so his mouth moved in ecstasy and when he opened his eyes and they were black in this darkness, he didn’t react with surprise when he saw Swann. He acted like nothing at all, and Swann shuddered as Chris, opening closing his eyes on Swann, continued to fuck the girl. Now and again he raised his curly head in ecstasy, his blond curls pink in the purplish light, and as Swann left, he placed his hand in the damp thickness of Chris’s hair, and ran his hands over his striving back.
“Thank you, Swann,” Chris murmured as he slowly fucked her, and he put out his hand, and though Swann was slightly confused, he took it. Chris squeezed his hand, let it go, and kept fucking.
He stepped back from Chris and saw Jack at the door watching the whole exchange and Swann saw Jack’s erection striving against his jeans, In the reddish light, Swann locked the door, opened Jack’s jeans and took the his boyfriend’s swollen cock into his mouth
Suddenly he heard the girl shouting while Chris began to fuck her harder, and as he fucked her harder, Jack fucked Swann’s mouth harder, his hands kneading his scalp. In the moment the girl gave a cry, Chris let out a thin boy’s shout from the bed while Jack staggered and groaned, his body trembling while Swann’s mouth filled to bursting and he gagged on his semen.
Much later that night, Chris sat on Swann’s bed, legs crossed under him and said, “Can I say something, Swann?”
“I guess.”
“That was hot. I don’t know how else to say it. I mean there’s no point in not talking about it. When I opened my eyes and there you were… It was… hot’s not the word. I didn’t know that girl, but I was feeling really wound up. I feel like it’s easier to get wound up that way now, and part of me feels like it’s not right, but the other part of me is so….. I need it. And then suddenly you were there and it was like… not just sticking my stuff in. It was….
“Intimate.”
“Yeah. It was like doing it with a friend. Am I making it up, or were you getting busy with someone?”
“I may have been,” Swann said, thinking it was not his to give away Jack’s identity.
“Cool…. I feel so close to you. Is that weird?”
“It’s weird because we’re bonding over having quasi sex with each other, but….”
Jack swung in through the door, and he said, “Well, you crazy kids. I’m about to head to bed.
He stretched elaborately, and Swann, catching the hint, made a great yawn and said, “Yeah, I’m on my way, too.”
“Then I won’t keep you up.” Chris got up, hugged Swann, high fived Jack.
“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” he said, and was gone, followed by Jack who mouthed a message of love to him.
Swann, in his room, gathered a few things and pressed his huge copy of The Joy of Gay Sex back under the bed.
Late that night, or early that morning, while Jack was waiting, Swann arrived, and in the darkness they undressed and pressed together and when Jack was on hands and knees behind him, Swann reached back and covered his hard penis in lube, and while he rubbed it Jack moaned with pleasure. And then he leaned back and pulled Jack inside of him, and they both moaned in pain and discomfort at the entry, and then, when he was in, Jack cried out with relief the same Swann adjusted to a new pain. He pressed back as Jack pressed in, and in desperation he opened the small bottle Chris had left and inhaled the fumes. Sighing, he melted into pressing himself against Jack and, eventually, like an engine just beginning, they moved swifter and swifter. Were both of them thinking of Chris’s body, jouncing over that girl as Jack jounced over him. Maybe. Maybe. The ache and the pleasure that overtook Swann’s asshole as Jack fucked him was more full than he had ever known. Once it was almost unendurable, but he had to endure it to the end, meet the end of the road and suddenly a furious shout burst from Jack’s mouth, and Jack, sweaty, firm inside of him, came while he was still fucking.
By now, Swann was astride him. Shuddering, he moved against Jack and when Jack was heaving under him, Swann’s body melted to a hot center, and then from the same hot place came a boiling which ended in orgasm.
Three cars—one with Jack and Ben, and Chris, one with Susanne and Betsy and their friends and the last with Jill and her friends—were zooming over the speed limit. Ben said since he’d had shotgun all yesterday, Swann should ride next to Chris.
Chris blasted up the radio, and they tried to sing along.
Realize, I don't want to be a miser
Confide with sly, you'll be the wiser
Young blood is the lovin' upriser
How come everybody wanna keep it like the Kaiser?
They laughed and sang:
Give it away, give it away, give it away, now
Give it away, give it away, give it away, now
Give it away, give it away, give it away, now
I can't tell, if I'm a king pin or a pauper
Behind Swann, Chris leaned forward and threw his arms on Swann’s shoulders, and if no one else noticed, Jill did.
Jill said, “I can’t decide if getting high was a good idea or not.”
Acknowledging the strobe lights and the lights that swirled, Swann said, “I’m not sure if it would have made much of a difference.”
“Hey, what’s your name?” a guy came up to Jill.
“My name’s Tammy,” she said. “What’s yours?”
“York.”
“York like New York.”
“I’d be new for you, baby.”
“I bet you would.”
“Say, you wanna come back to my room?”
“I’m with my boyfriend.”
“Hey, honey,” Swann, said who had been listening, but unseen by the guy hitting Jill up.
“Baby, this is my friend, York.”
“I’m gonna get going,” York said.
“Bye, York”
“What’s that old phrase? Birds of a feather flock together–”
“Or get raped alone.”
“Speaking of, where is everyone?”
“Jack and the senior gang are over there. My ladies are there… Except Lucy. So we know what she’s up too. And Chris… Oh,”
Swann’s new tall friend could be seen in the reddish blue light, head a little bowed, leading a girl out of the large room.
“Well, I guess I won’t be having sex with him.” Swann said.
“Not today,” Jill agreed. “But, I mean the things he said. The way he acts.”
“The way who acts?”
“Don’t do that!” Swann said to Jack. “That sneaking up behind us.”
“We were talking about Chris. He’s sneaking off with a girl.”
“We gotta get him!” Jack said.
When Swann looked at him sharply, Jack said, “We’re like his chaperones. He’s a kid. He’s fourteen and this is a college party.
“He’s the same age as me,” Swann said.
“I’m going to go find Tamara,” Jill excused herself.
They waited till she was done and Swann said, “She’s probably not much older than you.”
“She probably is, and Chris is a kid. And we’re supposed to watch out for him,” Jack said, “and he doesn’t know her, and,” Jack said quickly, in an urgent whisper: “I’m in love with you.”
Swann caught Jack’s hand, and Jack squeezed his. They went in the same direction as Chris. Swann thought they wouldn’t find him but he soon realized there were only so many places you could go, so many rooms that people could disappear into.
“Jack,” Swann said. “Let me get him. He’s my friend? Okay?”
Jack nodded and said, “I’ll be in the living room, and Swann nodded his head too.
He waited till Jack was gone, then tested one door, another, this door. and there was Chris, all for him, long and naked with tapered back to small ass, moving like a up and down, and there was the girl beneath him, and when Swann went into the room he walked alongside the bed and watched Chris move in and out of her, Chris rise up on his hands and press in and out as her legs reached up and hooked around his hips, Chris push down into her so his mouth moved in ecstasy and when he opened his eyes and they were black in this darkness, he didn’t react with surprise when he saw Swann. He acted like nothing at all, and Swann shuddered as Chris, opening closing his eyes on Swann, continued to fuck the girl. Now and again he raised his curly head in ecstasy, his blond curls pink in the purplish light, and as Swann left, he placed his hand in the damp thickness of Chris’s hair, and ran his hands over his striving back.
“Thank you, Swann,” Chris murmured as he slowly fucked her, and he put out his hand, and though Swann was slightly confused, he took it. Chris squeezed his hand, let it go, and kept fucking.
He stepped back from Chris and saw Jack at the door watching the whole exchange and Swann saw Jack’s erection striving against his jeans, In the reddish light, Swann locked the door, opened Jack’s jeans and took the his boyfriend’s swollen cock into his mouth
Suddenly he heard the girl shouting while Chris began to fuck her harder, and as he fucked her harder, Jack fucked Swann’s mouth harder, his hands kneading his scalp. In the moment the girl gave a cry, Chris let out a thin boy’s shout from the bed while Jack staggered and groaned, his body trembling while Swann’s mouth filled to bursting and he gagged on his semen.
Much later that night, Chris sat on Swann’s bed, legs crossed under him and said, “Can I say something, Swann?”
“I guess.”
“That was hot. I don’t know how else to say it. I mean there’s no point in not talking about it. When I opened my eyes and there you were… It was… hot’s not the word. I didn’t know that girl, but I was feeling really wound up. I feel like it’s easier to get wound up that way now, and part of me feels like it’s not right, but the other part of me is so….. I need it. And then suddenly you were there and it was like… not just sticking my stuff in. It was….
“Intimate.”
“Yeah. It was like doing it with a friend. Am I making it up, or were you getting busy with someone?”
“I may have been,” Swann said, thinking it was not his to give away Jack’s identity.
“Cool…. I feel so close to you. Is that weird?”
“It’s weird because we’re bonding over having quasi sex with each other, but….”
Jack swung in through the door, and he said, “Well, you crazy kids. I’m about to head to bed.
He stretched elaborately, and Swann, catching the hint, made a great yawn and said, “Yeah, I’m on my way, too.”
“Then I won’t keep you up.” Chris got up, hugged Swann, high fived Jack.
“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” he said, and was gone, followed by Jack who mouthed a message of love to him.
Swann, in his room, gathered a few things and pressed his huge copy of The Joy of Gay Sex back under the bed.
Late that night, or early that morning, while Jack was waiting, Swann arrived, and in the darkness they undressed and pressed together and when Jack was on hands and knees behind him, Swann reached back and covered his hard penis in lube, and while he rubbed it Jack moaned with pleasure. And then he leaned back and pulled Jack inside of him, and they both moaned in pain and discomfort at the entry, and then, when he was in, Jack cried out with relief the same Swann adjusted to a new pain. He pressed back as Jack pressed in, and in desperation he opened the small bottle Chris had left and inhaled the fumes. Sighing, he melted into pressing himself against Jack and, eventually, like an engine just beginning, they moved swifter and swifter. Were both of them thinking of Chris’s body, jouncing over that girl as Jack jounced over him. Maybe. Maybe. The ache and the pleasure that overtook Swann’s asshole as Jack fucked him was more full than he had ever known. Once it was almost unendurable, but he had to endure it to the end, meet the end of the road and suddenly a furious shout burst from Jack’s mouth, and Jack, sweaty, firm inside of him, came while he was still fucking.
By now, Swann was astride him. Shuddering, he moved against Jack and when Jack was heaving under him, Swann’s body melted to a hot center, and then from the same hot place came a boiling which ended in orgasm.
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was an excellent portion. Looks like Swann may be with Jack but he is already interested in Chris. I wonder how that will play out? I’ll have to wait and see. Great writing!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
And soon, my friend, you will see indeed. Thanks for being a reader.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
BACK IN THE PRESENT, SWANN, CHRIS AND SAL NEGOTIATE CHRISTMAS....
Chapter Six
Christopher Leon Navarro was a surprise and disappointment to himself once again. This was yesterday, Christmas Eve. A few dry snowflakes had fallen.
Not that long ago, he and Swann had stood on Lake Michigan and talked about this very possibility, the possibility where tall, good looking, wavy haired Sal Goode drove up to his house with Swann.
And Chris had said he didn’t care, that he wanted what was best for Swann, that Sal was a good guy and if something happened between them, well great. He had been realistic. He could only see Swann a few times in a semester and even during the summer they didn’t live together. School was another year and a half, They didn’t have room for jealousy, not after all they’d been through.
And yet here was Sal Goode and Chris was trying to come up with reasons to hate his old friend, and let’s be very clear, Sal was an old friend. They had run track together along with Jack… Holy God, Swann, how many of us have you fucked!
No, but he was trying to make things Swann’s fault.
Sal thrust out his hand manfully, a very un Sal thing to do.
He’s nervous.
This guy who was here for me when my baby died, who I ate with and lived with…
“You can do better than that,” Swann said.
Chris hugged Sal tight, and while the two of them were embracing, Sal said, “I’m staying with my family tonight, but I thought… Tomorrow...”
“Why not tonight?” Chris held his old friend by his shoulders. “We’re family.”
Sal looked to Swann who nodded.
“We’re doing the feast of the three fishes.”
“I thought it was seven fishes.”
“Mom gets tired after the third fish dish,” Chris said. “Besides, we’re going it up big for Christmas Day.”
“Well, Mom’ll be asleep by eight, so…. If that’s not to late—”
“It’s not too late, brother,” Chris said.
Chris picked up Swann’s bag and took it through the garage. Swann squeezed Sal’s hand.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
As the garage door closed and Chris went to open the door into the basement rooms, Swann said, “That went a lot better than I imagined.”
Chris shook his head, which was shaggier than the last time Swann had seen him.
“You know what I’ve learned?”
“Huh.”
As Swann followed Chris, he said, “You are my best friend in this whole world, and Sal is my family, and at the end of the day that’s the only thing that matters All sorts of shit changes. Not that.”
“Well,” Marie explained, “it was more like the feast of one and half fishes.”
“What?” Swann said. They were drinking cocktails in the kitchen, and the snow that had been thin was falling thicker now.
“Well, I knew you were coming, and you’re a a good cook and you’re a much better cook with seafood and—”
“You knew I was coming as a guest in your house and you thought I’d do the cooking.”
“Well, I thought you’d contribute a lot.”
Chris snorted and put his hands to his face.
“Only my mom would wait for Swann to come and do the cooking.”
“Well, my mom would do it too,” Swann said. “But the two of you are going to help.”
Swann downed the rest of his drink and clapped his hands together.
“Alright, what are the dishes?”
“I was going to do a fish soup,” Chris’s mother said.
“You mean you were going to watch me do a fish soup,” Swann said.
“Correct,” Marie said. “White fish.”
“Alright. And what’s the next dish.”
“Branzino.”
“I don’t know shit about that”
“That’s an old family recipe,” Marie said. “I mean, not my family, but Dave’s he’s doing that.”
“And then there’s shrimp scampi.”
“Alright, sounds like a plan. You all cut the vegetables and I’ll do the rest.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Swann said. “Once the vegetables are cut the rest is easy.”
Marie dutifully cut vegetables while Swann directed Chris in cleaning fish, and when they were done, he set to the soup first and then the shrimp scampi while, on the other side of the kitchen, Chris’s dad prepared the branzino.
“This place smells amazing,” Marie announced as the sky darkened and Bing Crosby was singing from the stereo.
She looked at Chris.
“What are you doing?”
“Being moral support.”
“Be moral support and bring me a bouillon cube and some garlic powder,” Swann said.
Marie was not useless at all. She had baked crusty bread, hollow when you knocked on it, with wide crannies, and put out good butter to be soften for when soups and fish and scampi were brought to table. She had surprised them with crab, making this the feast of the four fishes, and there was plenty of wine so that when Sal arrived everyone was merry.
“I remember you!” Marie said.
“Oh this boy could run. The two of you ran your little hearts out and Swann, very sensibly, sang in the choir instead.”
“I brought a bottle of wine,” Sal said.
“That’s the last thing we need,” Chris said.
“It’s the first thing we need,” his mother protested. “Have a seat. I’m going to heat you up a plate. They say you can’t reheat fish, but that’s nonsense.”
Sal awkwardly hugged Swann, then sat between him and Chris, and Chris poured him a glass of wine.
“Not too much. I’m driving.”
“You’re not driving anywhere for a while,” Chris told him, and this proved to be true.
Swann was already tired and half drunk when Sal arrived. He stayed up for another hour and then went into the dens—there were so many rooms—and climbed on the couch to sleep. Over and over the house had been added onto, and it was a strange structure so that the kitchen looked over the garage and stairs led down to the den where Swann listened to the music and the conversation at the table. After a while, Sal and Chris came in and shook him and said, “Mom and Dad are winding down. Let’s go to the basement.
Getting used to Saint Francis had gotten Swann used to this house where it seemed like three had been built over each other in the last fifty years, and from the den they went to what had been the original kitchen and then down the stairs to the familiar finished basement.
“Are you going to bed?” Sal demanded.
“Yes,” Swann said.
“Well, fine, be that way,”
“I will.”
“Me and Sal’ll talk a while,” Chris said. “We’ll probably talk about you.
“I’m so sleepy I don’t even care.”
“Does your family go to Midnight Mass?” Chris asked Sal.
“Yeah. At Regina Coeli.”
“My parents were thinking about it. I don’t know it they’ll still feel like it.”
“I’m game,” Sal said. “Only I don’t like Regina Coeli.”
“We could go to Saint Francis,” Swann said, offhandedly.
“That’s right. We could.”
“I mean, they are monks, with a church. They’ll be having Midnight Mass.”
Swann was always well back in Chicago whenever that happened, but he’d heard from the boys who lived in town that sometimes they went to Midnight Mass at Saint Francis. Jack had even been a server.
“Swann, you’re a genius.”
“I’m a sleepy genius.”
Chris suddenly stifled a yawn,
“We could set an alarm for eleven,” Sal suggested.
Chris yawned and covered his mouth, nodding.
“I think we’d better.”
Chapter Six
Christopher Leon Navarro was a surprise and disappointment to himself once again. This was yesterday, Christmas Eve. A few dry snowflakes had fallen.
Not that long ago, he and Swann had stood on Lake Michigan and talked about this very possibility, the possibility where tall, good looking, wavy haired Sal Goode drove up to his house with Swann.
And Chris had said he didn’t care, that he wanted what was best for Swann, that Sal was a good guy and if something happened between them, well great. He had been realistic. He could only see Swann a few times in a semester and even during the summer they didn’t live together. School was another year and a half, They didn’t have room for jealousy, not after all they’d been through.
And yet here was Sal Goode and Chris was trying to come up with reasons to hate his old friend, and let’s be very clear, Sal was an old friend. They had run track together along with Jack… Holy God, Swann, how many of us have you fucked!
No, but he was trying to make things Swann’s fault.
Sal thrust out his hand manfully, a very un Sal thing to do.
He’s nervous.
This guy who was here for me when my baby died, who I ate with and lived with…
“You can do better than that,” Swann said.
Chris hugged Sal tight, and while the two of them were embracing, Sal said, “I’m staying with my family tonight, but I thought… Tomorrow...”
“Why not tonight?” Chris held his old friend by his shoulders. “We’re family.”
Sal looked to Swann who nodded.
“We’re doing the feast of the three fishes.”
“I thought it was seven fishes.”
“Mom gets tired after the third fish dish,” Chris said. “Besides, we’re going it up big for Christmas Day.”
“Well, Mom’ll be asleep by eight, so…. If that’s not to late—”
“It’s not too late, brother,” Chris said.
Chris picked up Swann’s bag and took it through the garage. Swann squeezed Sal’s hand.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
As the garage door closed and Chris went to open the door into the basement rooms, Swann said, “That went a lot better than I imagined.”
Chris shook his head, which was shaggier than the last time Swann had seen him.
“You know what I’ve learned?”
“Huh.”
As Swann followed Chris, he said, “You are my best friend in this whole world, and Sal is my family, and at the end of the day that’s the only thing that matters All sorts of shit changes. Not that.”
“Well,” Marie explained, “it was more like the feast of one and half fishes.”
“What?” Swann said. They were drinking cocktails in the kitchen, and the snow that had been thin was falling thicker now.
“Well, I knew you were coming, and you’re a a good cook and you’re a much better cook with seafood and—”
“You knew I was coming as a guest in your house and you thought I’d do the cooking.”
“Well, I thought you’d contribute a lot.”
Chris snorted and put his hands to his face.
“Only my mom would wait for Swann to come and do the cooking.”
“Well, my mom would do it too,” Swann said. “But the two of you are going to help.”
Swann downed the rest of his drink and clapped his hands together.
“Alright, what are the dishes?”
“I was going to do a fish soup,” Chris’s mother said.
“You mean you were going to watch me do a fish soup,” Swann said.
“Correct,” Marie said. “White fish.”
“Alright. And what’s the next dish.”
“Branzino.”
“I don’t know shit about that”
“That’s an old family recipe,” Marie said. “I mean, not my family, but Dave’s he’s doing that.”
“And then there’s shrimp scampi.”
“Alright, sounds like a plan. You all cut the vegetables and I’ll do the rest.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Swann said. “Once the vegetables are cut the rest is easy.”
Marie dutifully cut vegetables while Swann directed Chris in cleaning fish, and when they were done, he set to the soup first and then the shrimp scampi while, on the other side of the kitchen, Chris’s dad prepared the branzino.
“This place smells amazing,” Marie announced as the sky darkened and Bing Crosby was singing from the stereo.
She looked at Chris.
“What are you doing?”
“Being moral support.”
“Be moral support and bring me a bouillon cube and some garlic powder,” Swann said.
Marie was not useless at all. She had baked crusty bread, hollow when you knocked on it, with wide crannies, and put out good butter to be soften for when soups and fish and scampi were brought to table. She had surprised them with crab, making this the feast of the four fishes, and there was plenty of wine so that when Sal arrived everyone was merry.
“I remember you!” Marie said.
“Oh this boy could run. The two of you ran your little hearts out and Swann, very sensibly, sang in the choir instead.”
“I brought a bottle of wine,” Sal said.
“That’s the last thing we need,” Chris said.
“It’s the first thing we need,” his mother protested. “Have a seat. I’m going to heat you up a plate. They say you can’t reheat fish, but that’s nonsense.”
Sal awkwardly hugged Swann, then sat between him and Chris, and Chris poured him a glass of wine.
“Not too much. I’m driving.”
“You’re not driving anywhere for a while,” Chris told him, and this proved to be true.
Swann was already tired and half drunk when Sal arrived. He stayed up for another hour and then went into the dens—there were so many rooms—and climbed on the couch to sleep. Over and over the house had been added onto, and it was a strange structure so that the kitchen looked over the garage and stairs led down to the den where Swann listened to the music and the conversation at the table. After a while, Sal and Chris came in and shook him and said, “Mom and Dad are winding down. Let’s go to the basement.
Getting used to Saint Francis had gotten Swann used to this house where it seemed like three had been built over each other in the last fifty years, and from the den they went to what had been the original kitchen and then down the stairs to the familiar finished basement.
“Are you going to bed?” Sal demanded.
“Yes,” Swann said.
“Well, fine, be that way,”
“I will.”
“Me and Sal’ll talk a while,” Chris said. “We’ll probably talk about you.
“I’m so sleepy I don’t even care.”
“Does your family go to Midnight Mass?” Chris asked Sal.
“Yeah. At Regina Coeli.”
“My parents were thinking about it. I don’t know it they’ll still feel like it.”
“I’m game,” Sal said. “Only I don’t like Regina Coeli.”
“We could go to Saint Francis,” Swann said, offhandedly.
“That’s right. We could.”
“I mean, they are monks, with a church. They’ll be having Midnight Mass.”
Swann was always well back in Chicago whenever that happened, but he’d heard from the boys who lived in town that sometimes they went to Midnight Mass at Saint Francis. Jack had even been a server.
“Swann, you’re a genius.”
“I’m a sleepy genius.”
Chris suddenly stifled a yawn,
“We could set an alarm for eleven,” Sal suggested.
Chris yawned and covered his mouth, nodding.
“I think we’d better.”
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
A great portion and it is cool to get back to the present. Looks like Sal and Chris are going to have a talk about Swann. That should be fascinating I’ll bet. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Yes, we're back, and I'm finally remembering to post! Hope you had a great day.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
All those years in school he never complained about the dress code. He had been wearing ties and dress shirts to school his whole life, and the blazer was just another thing. Every day boys asked, “Why do we have to wear this?” along with “Why aren’t there any girls here?” and a host of stupid, useless questions it made no sense to ask.
Doc Russo, the Latin teacher snapped, “Because you’ll wear this for the rest of your lives. It’s to train you for the real world.”
Indeed, Doc Russo did wear—shabbily—a tie and blazer every day But the moment Swann heard this was the moment he knew it wasn’t true, and so far it hadn’t been true. The last time he’d worn a tie or a blazer had been to his graduation from Saint Francis, and he didn’t wear either tonight. Chris and Sal did, though.
“It’s just something about putting on a suit,” Sal declared, and thought Swann Sal and Chris looked wonderful, he wore rings, a paisley silk shirt, suede vest and bell bottomed trousers along with a cardigan and a long burgundy scarf.
They could see Saint Francis, or rather the large façade of the church it spread our from, well before they arrived. Its portico and rose window were well lit, and cars were all on the snowy lawn before the school.
Inside, the church was brightly lit and carols were being sung while, in the vestibule, altar boys and priests were fiddling with the incense and the final preparations before the procession into the church.
“Swann!” Abbot Prynne said, then, “Salvador and Christopher! Well, where’s everyone else.”
“In Chicago,” Swann said.
“In Chicago indeed. Well, I’ve got to get up there for some of your Aunt Pam’s pecan pie. Are you going back? What are you doing here?”
“Tommy, “ Father Reed said, slipping into the Abbot’s given name, a sign of how long they’d known each other, “we’ve got a mass.
“Sirs!” he stopped, smiling when he saw Sal and Chris.
“Look at the two of you. And Swann.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Swann began.
“God, we’re in church,” Sal murmured.
Father Reed had been the track and field coach, and perhaps he never forgot the Lafayette party or anything else that Swann had done. Swann imagined that he conflated him with his cousin and blamed him for Doug’s many stunts, the last one being the poisoned pizza that had sent thirty students to the infirmary.
“Well, I see you haven’t lost your wit, Mr. Portis,” the thin, bespectacled priest who reminded Swann of a grasshopper said.
“And I see you haven’t found yours.”
Brother Herulian, who had been organizing the servers and was just lighting the incense snorted, and Sal said, “Why don’t we go find a seat?” pulling Swann into the church while Chris shook Father Reed’s hand.
“He always bugged me,” Swann said of their old principal.
“In heaven we’ll all be friends,” Chris said after genuflecting, and crossing himself, then sliding into a pew near the back.
“But for today….” Swann murmured, taking his seat as Sal sat down beside him, squeezing his knee
Almost immediately the lights dimmed, and a soloist began. A tenor voice shook the air, so high, so pure, so lonely, and it reminded Swann of himself, when he sang in this place and whatever was said about him, whatever went wrong fell to nothing at the sound of his voice.
Hodie Christus natus est
hodie Salvator apparuit:
hodie in terra canunt Angeli,
laetantur Archangeli:
hodie exsultant justi, dicentes:
Gloria in excelsis Deo, alleluja.
In the dark, and even through the Mass, Swann’s mind could drift. It always did in church. Time wasn’t time, the past was close by. Chris, and possibly Sal too, were good at looking good. He wondered sometimes if white boys made business of walking around looking like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth, if that’s why Father Reed liked them so much and had never had patience for Swann. It didn’t matter now, not so many years after school was over, and once Abbot Prynne had confided, “He doesn’t know what to make of you. You’re clever, and every time he says something you say something back.”
But now Swann thought of a morning… Seven years ago? Not Christmas at all, still fall, the first weekend he’d spent with Jack, when they had all gone to the party. He’d spent the afternoon becoming Chris’s best friend, and later come into the room where under a dark light he’d seen all of Chris, naked, stretched across a girl, body stretching, bunching, creamy smooth ass flexing and unflexing as he fucked her. Had he imagined it? Had he imagined coming up next to them, watching them? Had he imagined putting his fingers in Chris’s hair, Chris looking into him. As he fucked her? Even now, especially now, it seemed like a fever dream, him going down on his knees on Jack’s cock, filling it in his mouth, growing large and harder. Chris screaming with orgasm the same time Jack came in his mouth.
Much later that night, Chris sat on Swann’s bed, legs crossed under him and said, earnestly, “That was hot.”
“I don’t know how else to say it. I mean there’s no point in not talking about it. When I opened my eyes and there you were… It was… Hot’s not the word. I didn’t know that girl, but I was feeling really wound up. I feel like it’s easier to get wound up that way now, and part of me feel like its not right, but the other part of me is so….. I need it. And then suddenly you were there and it was like… not just sticking my stuff in. It was…”
“Intimate,” Swann murmured as they all stood up and more lights came on while the choir sang:
O come, O come, Immanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
Doc Russo, the Latin teacher snapped, “Because you’ll wear this for the rest of your lives. It’s to train you for the real world.”
Indeed, Doc Russo did wear—shabbily—a tie and blazer every day But the moment Swann heard this was the moment he knew it wasn’t true, and so far it hadn’t been true. The last time he’d worn a tie or a blazer had been to his graduation from Saint Francis, and he didn’t wear either tonight. Chris and Sal did, though.
“It’s just something about putting on a suit,” Sal declared, and thought Swann Sal and Chris looked wonderful, he wore rings, a paisley silk shirt, suede vest and bell bottomed trousers along with a cardigan and a long burgundy scarf.
They could see Saint Francis, or rather the large façade of the church it spread our from, well before they arrived. Its portico and rose window were well lit, and cars were all on the snowy lawn before the school.
Inside, the church was brightly lit and carols were being sung while, in the vestibule, altar boys and priests were fiddling with the incense and the final preparations before the procession into the church.
“Swann!” Abbot Prynne said, then, “Salvador and Christopher! Well, where’s everyone else.”
“In Chicago,” Swann said.
“In Chicago indeed. Well, I’ve got to get up there for some of your Aunt Pam’s pecan pie. Are you going back? What are you doing here?”
“Tommy, “ Father Reed said, slipping into the Abbot’s given name, a sign of how long they’d known each other, “we’ve got a mass.
“Sirs!” he stopped, smiling when he saw Sal and Chris.
“Look at the two of you. And Swann.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Swann began.
“God, we’re in church,” Sal murmured.
Father Reed had been the track and field coach, and perhaps he never forgot the Lafayette party or anything else that Swann had done. Swann imagined that he conflated him with his cousin and blamed him for Doug’s many stunts, the last one being the poisoned pizza that had sent thirty students to the infirmary.
“Well, I see you haven’t lost your wit, Mr. Portis,” the thin, bespectacled priest who reminded Swann of a grasshopper said.
“And I see you haven’t found yours.”
Brother Herulian, who had been organizing the servers and was just lighting the incense snorted, and Sal said, “Why don’t we go find a seat?” pulling Swann into the church while Chris shook Father Reed’s hand.
“He always bugged me,” Swann said of their old principal.
“In heaven we’ll all be friends,” Chris said after genuflecting, and crossing himself, then sliding into a pew near the back.
“But for today….” Swann murmured, taking his seat as Sal sat down beside him, squeezing his knee
Almost immediately the lights dimmed, and a soloist began. A tenor voice shook the air, so high, so pure, so lonely, and it reminded Swann of himself, when he sang in this place and whatever was said about him, whatever went wrong fell to nothing at the sound of his voice.
Hodie Christus natus est
hodie Salvator apparuit:
hodie in terra canunt Angeli,
laetantur Archangeli:
hodie exsultant justi, dicentes:
Gloria in excelsis Deo, alleluja.
In the dark, and even through the Mass, Swann’s mind could drift. It always did in church. Time wasn’t time, the past was close by. Chris, and possibly Sal too, were good at looking good. He wondered sometimes if white boys made business of walking around looking like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth, if that’s why Father Reed liked them so much and had never had patience for Swann. It didn’t matter now, not so many years after school was over, and once Abbot Prynne had confided, “He doesn’t know what to make of you. You’re clever, and every time he says something you say something back.”
But now Swann thought of a morning… Seven years ago? Not Christmas at all, still fall, the first weekend he’d spent with Jack, when they had all gone to the party. He’d spent the afternoon becoming Chris’s best friend, and later come into the room where under a dark light he’d seen all of Chris, naked, stretched across a girl, body stretching, bunching, creamy smooth ass flexing and unflexing as he fucked her. Had he imagined it? Had he imagined coming up next to them, watching them? Had he imagined putting his fingers in Chris’s hair, Chris looking into him. As he fucked her? Even now, especially now, it seemed like a fever dream, him going down on his knees on Jack’s cock, filling it in his mouth, growing large and harder. Chris screaming with orgasm the same time Jack came in his mouth.
Much later that night, Chris sat on Swann’s bed, legs crossed under him and said, earnestly, “That was hot.”
“I don’t know how else to say it. I mean there’s no point in not talking about it. When I opened my eyes and there you were… It was… Hot’s not the word. I didn’t know that girl, but I was feeling really wound up. I feel like it’s easier to get wound up that way now, and part of me feel like its not right, but the other part of me is so….. I need it. And then suddenly you were there and it was like… not just sticking my stuff in. It was…”
“Intimate,” Swann murmured as they all stood up and more lights came on while the choir sang:
O come, O come, Immanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
He’d had best friends before, and certainly Jill was a best friend. But a part of him was fearful of such friendship, especially with boys. Sitting on the bed with Chris Navarro, a Freshmen like himself, who he’d watch have sex, whom he had stayed in the room with while they both had intercourse with other people, was a different feeling, dirty, unclean, impure, and at the same time heady. When Chris had left his room, Swann had known that, in the way you could only feel for a best friend, he was in love with him. In the way you could only be with a boyfriend, he was in love with Jack, and in the dark recess of that night, they’d taught each other sex. Yes, Swann remembered that.
The next morning had been Sunday. He and Jack were so tangled together it was hard to know whose limbs were whose. His mind flashed back to the climax of the night when he had lain spread eagle like a sacrifice, and Jack, so gentle, so calm, so careful of him, had spent an endless time pounding him, fucking him rhythmically over and over until he ached the way he ached now.
“We have to get to Mass,” he whispered, and that was the most surprising thing he could have said.
It wasn’t that Swann didn’t have faith, it was only that he wasn’t sure what that faith was, and though he loved sitting in churches and smelling the incense, Mass bored him. He also wondered if there wasn’t something hypocritical about being fucked all night by Jack and then Jack saying let’s go to church. If it was, Jack didn’t think so, and because Jack didn’t, they showered together, quickly and efficiently, and Swann, who would have ended up in church eventually, came with Jack only to find in the vestibule Chris in white surplice, his golden hair a halo, bearing the brass cross beside Sal Goode.
Chris pinched him as he went through the doors into the nave. Looking back at the blond boy who winked at him, Swann sat down, surprised,by Abbot Prynne, who was then still Brother Prynne and sat down beside him.
“This is early for the both of us,” the monk remarked.
Jack looked so proud and serious at the altar, and so did Chris, and at the time Swann didn’t know Sal and felt embarrassed for thinking how handsome and solemn he was. Did he just like every white boy in the world? As he smelled the incense and watched the solemnity of the mass, for not the first time he wondered what was wrong with him.
O come, O Bright and Morning Star,
and bring us comfort from afar!
Dispel the shadows of the night
and turn our darkness into light.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
One of the white robed boys laid the infant Jesus down in the manger that had been set up before the altar, and Swann remembered early winter those seven years ago, when he and Chris has been walking around the school grounds in parkas and Chris said, “Swann?”
“Yes?”
“We’re friends, right? Best friends? And we love each other, right?”
It was such a strangely earnest thing to say, and Swann said, “Yes. Of course.”
“Then, listen, okay. I know that you and Jack are a thing. I know that’s why you got that book out. You do it with him…. The way I do with girls.”
No one had ever said that out loud.
“Only I suppose that when I do it with them its a sin cause I don’t love them or anything. But…. I don’t think its a sin when you all do it. And I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.”
“I just want you to know I know and… I don’t care.”
And then he said, “But I do care. I know, and I care ,and I think it’s great. Cause you’re great. And Jack is great And….. truth is… I feel that way.”
Swann didn’t really know what to say, so he just let Chris continue.
“I feel like I like guys. Like I want to be with a guy. But I’m not ready yet.”
Swann nodded. He sat down at the stone bench and Chris said, “Does it feel nice?”
“Yes,” Swann said, feeling embarrassed, his face heating.
“Can I see the book? Sometimes?” Chris asked.
“Of course.”
“I promise I won’t let other people see it.”
“We’d all be expelled.”
“I know.”
Chris wiped the back of his hand over his brow.
“You know something?” he said, I don’t know if I’m good or I’m bad. I mean, when I’m at church I feel like I’m good, and then we go to parties or something and I end up making it with some girl, or I’m awake at night thinking about other stuff and I think….. You’re not good at all. You’re gross. And the thing is…. That time when you came in the room while I was… while we were….”
“Yeah.”
“It excited me. I mean, I liked that you were there with me when I was with that girl. I liked the idea that you were….not so much watching me, but with me. Like, even now, if I meet a girl…. And it’s not like its happened a lot. I mean it really hasn’t but, I ….”
When Chris stopped talking, Swann waited a while, and then he said, “What?”
“When I have sex fantasies it’s of me doing it to a girl, like really hard, and you’re watching. Or when I’m making it with a girl I remember your hands in my hair. I pretend you’re somewhere there. And that’s dirty of me.”
“I’m sort of flattered,” Swann said. “I don’t think it’s dirty at all.”
Then he said, “I liked being there. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. I actually wanted to touch you more. While I was looking at you. Touch your neck, your back. The way you were moving up and down in her… I wanted to run my hands over you.”
“I wish you had of,” Chris’s voice was shallow. “I would have loved that.”
Swann thought of touching Chris even now, but suddenly Chris laughed as if to shake the spell away.
“So we’re both perverts,” he said.
Swann nodded in fake solemnity.
“I’m afraid we are.”
The next morning had been Sunday. He and Jack were so tangled together it was hard to know whose limbs were whose. His mind flashed back to the climax of the night when he had lain spread eagle like a sacrifice, and Jack, so gentle, so calm, so careful of him, had spent an endless time pounding him, fucking him rhythmically over and over until he ached the way he ached now.
“We have to get to Mass,” he whispered, and that was the most surprising thing he could have said.
It wasn’t that Swann didn’t have faith, it was only that he wasn’t sure what that faith was, and though he loved sitting in churches and smelling the incense, Mass bored him. He also wondered if there wasn’t something hypocritical about being fucked all night by Jack and then Jack saying let’s go to church. If it was, Jack didn’t think so, and because Jack didn’t, they showered together, quickly and efficiently, and Swann, who would have ended up in church eventually, came with Jack only to find in the vestibule Chris in white surplice, his golden hair a halo, bearing the brass cross beside Sal Goode.
Chris pinched him as he went through the doors into the nave. Looking back at the blond boy who winked at him, Swann sat down, surprised,by Abbot Prynne, who was then still Brother Prynne and sat down beside him.
“This is early for the both of us,” the monk remarked.
Jack looked so proud and serious at the altar, and so did Chris, and at the time Swann didn’t know Sal and felt embarrassed for thinking how handsome and solemn he was. Did he just like every white boy in the world? As he smelled the incense and watched the solemnity of the mass, for not the first time he wondered what was wrong with him.
O come, O Bright and Morning Star,
and bring us comfort from afar!
Dispel the shadows of the night
and turn our darkness into light.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.
One of the white robed boys laid the infant Jesus down in the manger that had been set up before the altar, and Swann remembered early winter those seven years ago, when he and Chris has been walking around the school grounds in parkas and Chris said, “Swann?”
“Yes?”
“We’re friends, right? Best friends? And we love each other, right?”
It was such a strangely earnest thing to say, and Swann said, “Yes. Of course.”
“Then, listen, okay. I know that you and Jack are a thing. I know that’s why you got that book out. You do it with him…. The way I do with girls.”
No one had ever said that out loud.
“Only I suppose that when I do it with them its a sin cause I don’t love them or anything. But…. I don’t think its a sin when you all do it. And I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.”
“I just want you to know I know and… I don’t care.”
And then he said, “But I do care. I know, and I care ,and I think it’s great. Cause you’re great. And Jack is great And….. truth is… I feel that way.”
Swann didn’t really know what to say, so he just let Chris continue.
“I feel like I like guys. Like I want to be with a guy. But I’m not ready yet.”
Swann nodded. He sat down at the stone bench and Chris said, “Does it feel nice?”
“Yes,” Swann said, feeling embarrassed, his face heating.
“Can I see the book? Sometimes?” Chris asked.
“Of course.”
“I promise I won’t let other people see it.”
“We’d all be expelled.”
“I know.”
Chris wiped the back of his hand over his brow.
“You know something?” he said, I don’t know if I’m good or I’m bad. I mean, when I’m at church I feel like I’m good, and then we go to parties or something and I end up making it with some girl, or I’m awake at night thinking about other stuff and I think….. You’re not good at all. You’re gross. And the thing is…. That time when you came in the room while I was… while we were….”
“Yeah.”
“It excited me. I mean, I liked that you were there with me when I was with that girl. I liked the idea that you were….not so much watching me, but with me. Like, even now, if I meet a girl…. And it’s not like its happened a lot. I mean it really hasn’t but, I ….”
When Chris stopped talking, Swann waited a while, and then he said, “What?”
“When I have sex fantasies it’s of me doing it to a girl, like really hard, and you’re watching. Or when I’m making it with a girl I remember your hands in my hair. I pretend you’re somewhere there. And that’s dirty of me.”
“I’m sort of flattered,” Swann said. “I don’t think it’s dirty at all.”
Then he said, “I liked being there. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. I actually wanted to touch you more. While I was looking at you. Touch your neck, your back. The way you were moving up and down in her… I wanted to run my hands over you.”
“I wish you had of,” Chris’s voice was shallow. “I would have loved that.”
Swann thought of touching Chris even now, but suddenly Chris laughed as if to shake the spell away.
“So we’re both perverts,” he said.
Swann nodded in fake solemnity.
“I’m afraid we are.”
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great long portion! Swann might be with Jack at the moment but you can tell him and Chris as I know are going to be more than friends. Sorry I took so long to read I’ve been a bit busy and sleepy. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Hey, I'm so glad you enjoyed it and grateful you got to reading it.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
In the present, it is Christmas Eve turning into Christmas morning, and Sal and Chris return from Midnight Mass with Swann and open their first Christmas present.....
It was around one thirty in the morning, but Swann felt strangely awake when they got back to Chris’s house. In the basement he made cocoa and coffee and changed into his pajama pants and a tee shirt while Sal and Chris looked like overgrown school boys or junior businessmen, their long trousered legs stretched out, shirttails hanging and ties loose. Sal sat, long and tall and tired in an easy chair across from them on the other side of a little glass table, his feet propped on a great ottoman. Swann plopped down on the sofa beside Chris. He loved them so he served them even though he remembered his father and what he remembered of that man would have frowned upon him playing house wife to one let alone two white boys, white men. How time changes. This is what they were now.
They talked about how good it was to see Abbot Prynne and how lucky Swann was that Abbot Prynne was going to his house. And:
“Shouldn’t we all just go up to Chicago late tomorrow?”
And Chris said, “There’s so much I want to start doing. I just stay down there in Lafayette all the time. I want to be in touch with all my friends. I forgot how good this was.”
Swann smoked two cigarettes and then began rolling a joint.
“Just for you?” Chris said. “Don’t be selfish.”
“Oh,” Swann blinked, readjusting and taking out more of the green clumps from his bag. He looked across to Sal.
“You too?”
“Tonight,” Sal said. “Yeah.”
While Swann finished rolling, he asked, “You two want your presents now or in the morning.”
Both of them said, “In the morning.”
“You all are such Boy Scouts.”
“Boy Scouts who are about to get baked, but yes,” Sal reflected as Swann stuck the joint between his lips and lit it. “I think Chris was in my Scout troop one year.”
“I am in fact an Eagle Scout,” Chris reported, but of course Swann knew this and Sal put his hands out and feigned bowing to him and Swann handed Chris the burning joint.
“I petered out at Scout Second Class,” Sal repeated, and then took a deep hit on the joint Chris had passed him, and coughed a little.
“That’s no joke,” Chris said. And because Chris said it, Swann supposed he was right.
“So,” Chris said in a measured tone, and he rose and crossed the basement den the place where they had stayed after Thanksgiving, and only Joe was missing. He dimmed the light and he sat down beside Sal, across from Swann, “we’re waiting till the morning for our presents, but you’re going to get your Christmas presents, or one of them, right now.”
“Okay?” Swann looked more troubled than happy.
“There is something we’ve been discussing,” Chris said.
“This….. Sounds serious,” Swann said. Then, because of the dimmed room, “Ominous.”
Sal grinned and shook his head, “I don’t think it’s ominous.”
“We’ve been thinking about it for a while. Like, Sal called me a while ago.”
“What?”
“Guilty!” Sal put up his hand and hung his head.
“And tonight, while you were sleeping, we were still talking.”
Swann asked, “Why do I feel like my life is being planned and I don’t get a say?”
“We’ve decided….” Chris said.
And then he said, “Well, we’ve decided—”
But before he could say anything else, it was Sal who took a long hit off the joint, and blew smoke into Chris’s open mouth. As their mouths sealed and smoke leaked from their nostrils. Swann watched in shock as the two of them made out on the ottoman across from him.
While he watched, the two young men fell back gently onto the ottoman, kissing in the dark and running their hands over each other. Sal sat up, and pushed the table that separated Swann from them away, and then continued kissing Chris. Chris sat up and took a long hit of marijuana and then, on his knees he came to Swann and kissed him, blowing smoke into his mouth. Swann’s nostrils tingled, and his eyes dilated, and now he was kissing Sal, and then he was carefully placing his glass on the little table they’d pushed away, and all three of them were making out. A bottle went to his nose. He inhaled. His mind jolted, and then his numbed body melted. We watched Chris and Sal stand up and begin to undress each other till the two men he loved golden and dark, were naked in front of each other, and then Chris padded away and came back with a bottle of something from behind the bar. Triumphant, he opened it, took a great swig and passed it to Sal who did the same, and then to Swann, whose body was singing and now his mouth and his veins were humming. Chris pulled Sal into the first dark bedroom, and Sal pulled Swann in after him.
Swann, who usually had no problem finding his voice, said, “Are we really going to do this?”
In the dark one mouth met his at the same time another mouth encompassed his penis. As they stumbled to the bed amidst laughter, someone’s voice, either Chris’s or Sal’s said, “We already are.”
It was around one thirty in the morning, but Swann felt strangely awake when they got back to Chris’s house. In the basement he made cocoa and coffee and changed into his pajama pants and a tee shirt while Sal and Chris looked like overgrown school boys or junior businessmen, their long trousered legs stretched out, shirttails hanging and ties loose. Sal sat, long and tall and tired in an easy chair across from them on the other side of a little glass table, his feet propped on a great ottoman. Swann plopped down on the sofa beside Chris. He loved them so he served them even though he remembered his father and what he remembered of that man would have frowned upon him playing house wife to one let alone two white boys, white men. How time changes. This is what they were now.
They talked about how good it was to see Abbot Prynne and how lucky Swann was that Abbot Prynne was going to his house. And:
“Shouldn’t we all just go up to Chicago late tomorrow?”
And Chris said, “There’s so much I want to start doing. I just stay down there in Lafayette all the time. I want to be in touch with all my friends. I forgot how good this was.”
Swann smoked two cigarettes and then began rolling a joint.
“Just for you?” Chris said. “Don’t be selfish.”
“Oh,” Swann blinked, readjusting and taking out more of the green clumps from his bag. He looked across to Sal.
“You too?”
“Tonight,” Sal said. “Yeah.”
While Swann finished rolling, he asked, “You two want your presents now or in the morning.”
Both of them said, “In the morning.”
“You all are such Boy Scouts.”
“Boy Scouts who are about to get baked, but yes,” Sal reflected as Swann stuck the joint between his lips and lit it. “I think Chris was in my Scout troop one year.”
“I am in fact an Eagle Scout,” Chris reported, but of course Swann knew this and Sal put his hands out and feigned bowing to him and Swann handed Chris the burning joint.
“I petered out at Scout Second Class,” Sal repeated, and then took a deep hit on the joint Chris had passed him, and coughed a little.
“That’s no joke,” Chris said. And because Chris said it, Swann supposed he was right.
“So,” Chris said in a measured tone, and he rose and crossed the basement den the place where they had stayed after Thanksgiving, and only Joe was missing. He dimmed the light and he sat down beside Sal, across from Swann, “we’re waiting till the morning for our presents, but you’re going to get your Christmas presents, or one of them, right now.”
“Okay?” Swann looked more troubled than happy.
“There is something we’ve been discussing,” Chris said.
“This….. Sounds serious,” Swann said. Then, because of the dimmed room, “Ominous.”
Sal grinned and shook his head, “I don’t think it’s ominous.”
“We’ve been thinking about it for a while. Like, Sal called me a while ago.”
“What?”
“Guilty!” Sal put up his hand and hung his head.
“And tonight, while you were sleeping, we were still talking.”
Swann asked, “Why do I feel like my life is being planned and I don’t get a say?”
“We’ve decided….” Chris said.
And then he said, “Well, we’ve decided—”
But before he could say anything else, it was Sal who took a long hit off the joint, and blew smoke into Chris’s open mouth. As their mouths sealed and smoke leaked from their nostrils. Swann watched in shock as the two of them made out on the ottoman across from him.
While he watched, the two young men fell back gently onto the ottoman, kissing in the dark and running their hands over each other. Sal sat up, and pushed the table that separated Swann from them away, and then continued kissing Chris. Chris sat up and took a long hit of marijuana and then, on his knees he came to Swann and kissed him, blowing smoke into his mouth. Swann’s nostrils tingled, and his eyes dilated, and now he was kissing Sal, and then he was carefully placing his glass on the little table they’d pushed away, and all three of them were making out. A bottle went to his nose. He inhaled. His mind jolted, and then his numbed body melted. We watched Chris and Sal stand up and begin to undress each other till the two men he loved golden and dark, were naked in front of each other, and then Chris padded away and came back with a bottle of something from behind the bar. Triumphant, he opened it, took a great swig and passed it to Sal who did the same, and then to Swann, whose body was singing and now his mouth and his veins were humming. Chris pulled Sal into the first dark bedroom, and Sal pulled Swann in after him.
Swann, who usually had no problem finding his voice, said, “Are we really going to do this?”
In the dark one mouth met his at the same time another mouth encompassed his penis. As they stumbled to the bed amidst laughter, someone’s voice, either Chris’s or Sal’s said, “We already are.”
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion! Swann is definitely getting a good if surprising Christmas present. I am excited to see where this goes. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!
