Michaels Ghost

Michael's Ghost, Chapter Four

Michael’s Ghost

or, On Becoming a Man

By: SoQueer

This story is dedicated to Andrew Hollerand.

This is a work of fiction. It is, however, based at least in part on real people and a few actual events. Many of the conversations represented here took place. Having experienced the joys of being outed in public by another myself, I have taken the liberty of changing the names and altering the events enough to hopefully prevent anyone from being embarrassed.

As always, this story is intended for an adult audience interested in Gay erotic literature. If you are not of legal age--that's eighteen in the US--or are offended by depictions of homosexuality or what homosexuals do when you're not around, then I strongly request that you find another place to surf. This story remains the property of the author and may not be reprinted in part or in whole without my permission.

If you have any questions or comments, please contact me. Mail to: soqueer@excite.com

Love and a wet kiss, SoQueer.

Chapter 4

I heard a rooster crow. At first, I didn’t know what I was hearing. I opened my eyes and realized where I was. David was propped up on both pillows sound asleep, and I was lying in his arms. We had fallen asleep like that the night before. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the thrill of crashing against his magnificent body to the sounds and flashes of the storm. We took the chaos and turmoil of the squall and made it our own--taming it to respond to the passions of our bodies.

I carefully extracted myself from David’s loose embrace and climbed out of bed. It took me several minutes to find my underwear, and then I remembered leaving them on the porch. I walked naked into the morning sunlight. I felt so free, so complete in myself. My nakedness felt natural in this setting, as if this shedding of my false skin were meant to be a part of it. I sat in the chair David had occupied the night before and took in the scenery. The world around me had been washed clean the night before, and now I in turn was being washed clean of my inhibitions.

My stomach growled, reminding me of why I had gotten out of bed in the first place. I’m always hungry when I wake up, and the previous night’s exertions left me ravenous. I pulled on some pj’s and, after a stop by the bathroom, tried to sneak down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Mrs. Canon said from behind the stove. She was cooking. “Sit down, and I’ll get you some breakfast.”

“Thanks. I’m starving.”

Mrs. Fambrough again laid out a full course. She fixed me bacon and eggs, grits, toast and jelly, and a big glass of milk. I dug in while she enjoyed a cup of coffee.

“I’m surprised to see you up so early. I figured you for a late sleeper.”

“New surroundings I guess. David was still asleep when I came down.” I paused to wash down a bite of food. “David’s room is awesome. I love having that porch right off the room like that!”

“Why, thank you. The house was designed by my mother-in-law, but the second-story porch was my idea. In fact that was my room up until a couple of years ago. But, my knees started giving me trouble so I added a bedroom here on the main floor. I ended up putting a door onto the screen porch out back so I could slip out there when I couldn’t sleep.”

“I sat out this morning and watched the sun come up.”

“Really! My husband used to like to do that, too.” She gave me a sly look. “Of course, he was usually naked as a jay-bird!”

I blushed deep red. Had she seen me? I had been so intent on taking every thing in I that I knew I would have seen her.

She smiled. “Oh! You too!” She patted my hand. “This is a farm, boy, and you’re young. Don’t let it bother you...”

A thud above my head announced David was up. Before long he came bounding down the stairs. He passed by me, gave me a wink, and then kissed his grandmother on the cheek. “Morning, Grandma,” he said. I understood. The peck on the cheek was for me.

David fixed himself a plate and sat down. “Whatcha wanna do today?” he asked me.

“I don’t care. What ever you want to do is fine with me.” David grinned. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. His hair was disheveled and there was still sleep in his eyes. In other words he was absolutely lovely. I watched as each spoon full of food passed between his full lips and felt my mouth watering for him. His shoulders gently rose and fell with each breath, causing my arms to ache with the desire to hold him. From time to time he would give me a slight wink, and lick his lips as if licking off some bit of excess food. My mouth would involuntarily open to receive him, and I had to stop my own tongue from lunging forward to greet him.

“Why don’t you two go down to the creek and catch us a mess of fish for supper?” Mrs. Fambrough asked. “I’ll pack you a picnic lunch, and you can spend the day out.”

David and I agreed to her plan enthusiastically. “I’ll go get ready while you finish eating,” I said. I made my leave and walked up the stairs. For some reason I still don’t understand, I paused at the head of the stairs to listen to the conversation below. I could hear Mrs. Fambrough speaking in a soft voice, barely above a whisper. I crept down the stairs until I could hear them both.

“Oh, I don’t mean anything, David. I was just commenting that he’s good looking.”

“You don’t like him?” David’s voice held a note of nervous defense.

“I didn’t say that. On the contrary. If I were forty years younger--well--let’s just say he’d have a problem on his hands.”

“I-I like him, Grandma. I--He’s my best friend.”

“And he’s damn good looking, too. Isn’t he?”

David let out a sob.

“It’s OK, Baby,” she said softly. “If you’re going to go that way, at least you picked a pretty one. And he’s got a good heart.” David was crying now. The sounds were muffled, as if they were holding each other. “And unless I’m sorely mistaken that boy is head-over-heals in love with you.”

“Really? Do you think so?”

“The way he looks at you? I figured that out the first time I saw you two together. And I’m not talking some passing fancy, either. Nope. Mark’s got it, and he’s got it bad. We’re talking the long-term stuff.

“David, I love you. You’ve been through enough hurt for two people, and you’re not even full grown yet. I just want you to be happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Yes Ma’am.” David answered. “When I’m with him I just know everything’s going to be all right.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you all along.”

“Yes Ma’am.” I could almost see him wipe the snot from his nose. “I-I slept all night last night.”

There was a pause. “No dreams?”

Another pause. David must be shaking his head, I thought. “No bad dreams. Only good ones.”

I realized I had been standing there on the stairs long enough to have gotten dressed and come back down, so I hurried upstairs and got ready. I felt guilty at having eavesdropped, but I also felt exhilarated by what I had learned. So much of the last two weeks made sense now. I understood his fears. David was desperate for love. In me he had found more that he had hoped for in that he meant as much to me as I did to him. Once again I knew I would do any thing he asked. I’d go anywhere to be with him, and I’d face any danger to please him. And as Mrs. Fambrough had observed, this was no short-term thing. I determined then and there to spend the rest of my life with him, and to hell with any one or anything that stood in our way.

I went downstairs and pretended as if nothing had happened. David excused himself and went upstairs to change, leaving his grandmother and I alone. I joked around with her the way I liked to joke around with my own mother, and I was pleased at how well she responded. Her laugh lacked the brilliance of David’s laugh, but it was deep and beautiful. I felt a warmth for her, and I enjoyed her company.

David came downstairs and suggested we get a move-on. I helped grab up the supplies and headed out the door behind him. Mrs. Fambrough stopped me as I was leaving, and said, “Mark, I just want you to know how pleased I am to have you staying here.”

I turned and looked her in the eyes. “I’m honored to be here, Ma’am.” I picked up the basket and ran after David.

David was quiet. He had been quiet all morning. The clouds had returned to his face. I had tried several times to draw him into various discussions, but his short, crisp answers persuaded me to give it. The silence was uncomfortable. We were together doing something we both enjoyed, I told myself, and so I tried to concentrate on relaxing and enjoying the moment. David would glance over in my direction occasionally, but he remained silent. From time to time one of us would bring a nice, healthy brim or perch to shore without comment. I had caught a dozen myself, and David had done just as well, if not better. Before long, though, the sun had rose to its zenith, and the fish all but stopped biting.

I pulled my line in and went to the basket Mrs. Fambrough had packed for us. I was astounded by the volume of food she had stuffed in such a small place. I picked out a dry, shady place high on the bank under an old live oak and spread out the table cloth she had sent along. I unpacked the food and arranged it neatly in the center. I looked up to see David coming up the embankment toward me. His long legs made easy work of the steep incline, and he soon plopped down beside me. Wordlessly I grabbed a plate and started fixing his meal.

“No,” he said softly, taking the plate from my hands. “You sit back, and let me fix your plate.”

I laid back on the cloth and dozed in the mid-day heat. David had little ways of making me seem special, and yet he could be so indifferent. The frustration I felt inside was bursting to get out. I wanted so much to talk to him about what I had heard. I wanted to know the details and background of every comment. Most of all, I wanted to know why he told her about us. I didn’t dare let on, though. David would have to broach the subject himself. Rather than risk saying something wrong I just lay there admiring the shade of red the sunlight cast when passing through my closed eyelids.

“Here,” David said, handing me my plate.

“Do you realize that’s the most you’ve said to me since we left the house?” I opened my eyes and took the plate from his hands. David looked away. It was just too irresistible. “Are you OK? Have I pissed you off, or something?”

“I’m sorry. I-” he turned and faced away from me. “I haven’t been very good company, have I?”

Damn! I pushed too hard too fast. I knew if I pursued this line we’d end up fighting. “Its OK. Really! I just thought you might want to talk about what’s on your mind, that’s all.”

“I’d rather not.” Double damn! He’s thinking about me, I thought. Fuck! “Maybe later.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

We ate without speaking. David continued facing away from me. My appetite dwindled to nothing, so I tossed the sandwich I was eating away. I laid back down, closed my eyes, and tried not to think. I tried not to remember that David was sitting within my reach, that all I had to do was extend my arm, and my hand could caress his back. I tried not to think of how warm his skin would feel under my fingers. I tried not to remember how his skin tasted or how his body smelt. I tried to block out the feel of him pressed up against me, breathing hard, and spraying me with cum as hot as molten lead. I tried, but it did no good. My hard-on was throbbing.

I cracked my eyes open. David was still sitting hugging his knees and facing away from me . I closed my eyes again, rolled over, and went to sleep.

===============================================

I was looking at my reflection in a full-length mirror. I was naked, but my reflection was fully clothed. The face in the mirror smiled at me, and yet I wasn’t smiling. We both reached out to touch each other, but the glass prevented it. Was he a reflection of me, or was I a reflection of him?

“Figured it out yet?” he asked me.

“Figured what out?” I asked.

“What you’re doing hear, Dorkus! You remember...in the tub the last night? You were whining about not knowing why you’re here.”

“Oh. You were there?”

“I’m where ever you are. I’m your reflection remember. We’re kind of linked.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s an understatement, Marko! So tell me, you like listening around corners?”

“I was curious,” I said.

“You were nosy.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I told you. I’m your reflection.”

“No you’re not.”

“What are you? A vampire? You got no reflection?”

“You’re not my reflection.”

“Then who am I?” he asked.

“Michael!” I shouted. “You’re Dennis Michael Fambrough!”

The image smiled at me, winked, and then faded away. I awoke with a start. David had given me a push to wake me up.

“You were mumbling in your sleep,” he said.

===============================================

I got up and began clearing away our mess. David took the clue and gathered up our fishing gear and catch. It looked quite respectable, I thought. If David was impressed, though, he didn’t let it show.

We walked back to the house using a two-rut lane. As we neared the house I could hold my peace no longer. I said the first thing that popped in my mind. “Have you got any pictures of Michael?” I asked. David froze in his tracks. “You told me I looked like him. I want to see for myself.”

“OK,” he said, and headed toward the house.

Mrs. Fambrough greeted us in the back yard. She had re-potted several flowers and now sat on the ground in a temporary Eden. We showed her our catch and listened bashfully as she bragged on our prowess as hunter-gatherer types. We cleaned the fish, put them a pan of water, and set them in the refrigerator to keep cool. I headed upstairs to get cleaned off and heard David come up the stairs behind me.

“Go get cleaned up. I’ve got to get something out of my room first. I’ll meet you in the bathroom later.”

I went in the bathroom and pulled off my clothes. What a pisser of a day, I thought. I sat on the edge of the tub with my feet under the faucet and rinsed the river-muck off my legs and arms. David came in and joined me at the tub.

“You wanna scrub my back?” he asked, using my shoulder to steady himself as he stepped into the tub.

Not really, I thought. I was pissed with him. He hadn’t said a dozen words to me in six hours, and now he wanted to get friendly! I sat there as he put the plug in the drain and turned the hot water on. David sat down in the rapidly filling tub of steaming water and gave me a winked. Don’t get cute, I thought, and I held my place. David’s eyebrows knit together, and he reached up and ran a hand up my calf. I stepped out of the tub, dried my feet, and padded naked to his room.

I closed the door behind me and laid down on the bed. I could feel tears stinging my eyes, but I was determined not to cry. Part of me wanted to go back across the hall and tell him what a shit he had been all afternoon. The rest of me wanted to run tell him I loved him and ask him to forgive me for being such a pussy. The dream I had was burning in my mind, and I needed desperately to talk it over with David. All of the morning’s clarity had evaporated away in the midday heat.

The door opened. David looked sheepishly at me. He was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. Only when I saw him did I realize I was naked. I reached down, grabbed a handful of bedspread, and flung it over my midsection. David’s eyes--and his expression--dropped. I felt silly. I saw how petty I was being towards him but the resentment at being shut out all day still boiled inside of me.

David came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. He had that same look on his face he had that morning he asked me where he could go swimming. His lips were slightly parted, and his expression was vague and distant. “I-” he started to say, but drifted away. He was so pitiful. My heart was breaking. My emotions were exploding, but now rather than out of anger it was out of soft-heartedness. God! I loved him!

“I can’t take this, David.” I said, fighting back the need to cry. He just sat there, still staring off into space. “One minute you act like I’m the center of your universe, and the next minute you treat me like I’m not even here. Make up your mind! I’m not asking you to pick out china, or anything, I just want you to be consistent. Stop playing games with me.” I felt my conscience sting. Who was I to talk about playing games!

“I-I’m sorry...”

“Do you mean ‘I’m sorry I pushed you away’ or ‘I’m sorry get the fuck out of my life’?”

“What?”

“Damn it, David! What am I to you, a pacifier? What do I mean to you?” I through the covers off of me. “Fuck this! I don’t need this. I love you with every ounce of my being, and you’re too fucking dense to see it!”

I got up and went to the closet. I pulled my suitcase down off the shelf and flung it open on the bed. “Can’t you see there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you...”

David jumped up and flung his arms around me. “Please don’t do this! Please don’t leave me! Promise me you’ll stay! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you....I...”

I kissed his mouth. I kissed him long and hard. I relished the taste of him. I sucked in his hot breath. I lost myself in that embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around me, binding my own arms to my sides. I was so helpless in his grasp. I was at his mercy, and I would have let him take me even if my parents had been in the room. Nothing was going to stop what was about to happen. David flung me on the bed. I grabbed the towel he was wearing and pulled it away. Our mouths were still locked in a kiss, and his arms held me pinned to the bed. I freed my legs from under him and embraced his waist with them, locking them together at the ankles. I could feel the head of his mammoth dick pressing at my opening.

David sat up, pulling me up with him, and slowly lowered me onto his lap. Again I felt the head of his throbbing cock pushing against my asshole. I relaxed as best I could and opened myself to receive him. Slowly, inch by enormous inch, I felt him slide inside me. He was splitting me open, tearing me apart with the shear size of his erection. He swallowed my moans and cries in his kiss, his tongue jealously trying to penetrate me as deeply as his prick was. Tears streamed down my face, and I worked my arms free to hug him back.

At last I felt his thighs under my ass. He was all the way in me. We were joined--twice joined--at the hip and mouth. David gently raised me up and lowered me down on himself again. He was moaning now. I felt my ass muscles relaxing, so I started rocking back and forth with his rhythm. He felt like a red-hot poker inside of me. I was burning from his touch both inside and out. My hands ran all over him, caressing and squeezing him. I urged him on, squeezing my ass-cheeks together each time I raised up off of him. David’s dick plunged upward to greet me each time I lowered myself back down. Faster and faster we moved against each other. Our bodies danced and gyrated in pleasure. David’s cockhead bounced against my prostrate, and I felt my own prick expand with pleasure as it rubbed against his sizzling belly.

David plunged up inside me. I could feel his seed exploding inside of me. I clamped down on his dick as hard as I could, and my own member shot off. I sprayed us both with my boy-juice. The sticky wetness of my cum tickled as it ran down my chest.

We stayed like that for several minutes. David’s erection subsided, but he stayed lodged inside of me. We licked my cum off each other’s face, kissing and caressing each other with our mouths.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his breath still coming in gasps. “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you so much, but I just couldn’t.”

“No. It’s OK. I was being an ass.” I licked a bit of cum off his ears that I had missed. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“But I do,” he said. “You don’t know what you do to me. I didn’t mean to tell you any of that last night. You just--I don’t know--pulled it out of me. I’m scared if I start talking I’ll say too much.”

Now what does THAT mean, I asked myself. “Never mind. Just touch me or something so I’ll know you’re not sick of me.”

David sat back. His hair was a mess, and his face was streaked from where I had licked him off. “Sick of you? Is that what you thought?”

“Hell! I didn’t know! This morning you were...” Shit! I said to myself. I almost gave it away. “Uh...well, you seemed so happy to see me...and then...well, you acted like you wanted to be alone. That’s all.”

David laughed. “Hell! I wanted to do what we just did. I’ve been wanting it all day. I was...just being stupid, I guess.”

“A real Dorkus, huh?” I asked playfully.

David’s face instantly clouded. “Don’t call me that! Don’t you ever call me that again!”

I-I’m sorry. I was just kidding.”

“Michael used to call me that!”

Now I felt my own face cloud. I disengaged myself from David, feeling the emptiness suddenly expand within me as his dick pulled out. ‘Dorkas’ the reflection in my dream had called me. My reflection: Dennis Michael Fambrough! My head was spinning.

David reached under the bed and pulled out an old shoe box bound with a string. He untied the package and pulled off the top. It was full of pictures. “I put this collection together right after Mike died. I used to pull it out two or three times a day and look at every picture, but pictures don’t talk. Sometimes I wish I had a movie of him or something, but it wouldn’t be much better.” David started handing me photographs. At first they were of a baby, then a small boy, and then an older child. David had meticulously sorted the pictures in chronological order. Here before my eyes was Michael’s brief life: Michael in diapers, Michael and David in a blow-up swimming pool (yes, David was a hunk even then), Michael at his fifth birthday party with a toothless grin on his face, Michael playing T-ball, and so forth.

The pictures continued...and I felt like I was watching myself grow up. Michael and I didn’t just look somewhat alike: We were dead ringers for each other. I was indeed looking at my reflection. I even saw him wearing clothes like the ones I had hanging in my closet at home. When David handed me a picture of Michael at his Junior prom, I had to look twice at the girl to make sure it wasn’t my own picture. We wore the same tuxedo, the same red tie, and the same red cumberbun. Everything, even down to the way we wore our hair, was the same.

I was so unsettled by the prom picture that I barely looked at the next photograph. Something, though, caught my eye. I looked at it again, and this time I studied it carefully. Michael and David were standing together in front of a enormous Christmas Tree. David was solemn, but Michael! I knew that stance. I had seen it thousands of times. It was the same clenched fist--the same glint in the narrowed eyes. The set of his shoulders and the way he stood was the spitting image of my father.

“Dennis Michael Fambrough.” I had spoken his name without thinking. David was staring at me hard.

“No one called him Dennis. Who told you his name was Dennis?”

“Is that the reason why he did it?”

“Why, because his name Dennis? Don’t be silly.” David laughed, but his nervousness was obvious.

“No. Because his father’s name was Dennis!”

I was caught off guard by the violence of his reaction. David picked me up and slammed me against the wall. “Who told you that? Who told you? Who!”

“Are you boys all right up there?” I heard Mrs. Fambrough calling upstairs.

I pushed David off, cracked the door, and said, “Yes ma’am. We were just horsing around.”

“Well, supper’ll be ready soon.”

“Yes ma’am.” I closed the door. David’s eyes were burning. He looked at me with the same fierce anger I saw on that first day. He was in a blood-lust.

“No one had to tell me, David. It all adds up. You yourself said I could pass for his twin. Hell, we even wore the same clothes! We LOOK so much alike because we ARE so much alike. There can be only one explanation: Dennis Michael Fambrough was my half-brother.”

David’s whole body began shuddering. He had the most pitiable expression on his face I have ever seen on a human being. He was loosing Michael all over again. I took him in my arms, and he collapsed into me a sobbing heap.

“That’s...that’s why he threw the keys at her.” he said sobbing. “He loved Dad. They...they did every...thing together. They were best friends...and...when she told him...he just...he...he..” I held him as best I could while the storms of emotion racked his body. David’s world had cracked under him and was in danger of swallowing him whole. Wail after wail fled from his mouth, and his body grew so weak from the exertion of weeping that I had to hold him up. Eventually we both sunk to the floor--David still in my arms--and me trying to console him. I ran my fingers through his hair and rocked him gently back and forth.

An image in the corner of my eye caught my attention. A full-length mirror had captured our reflection. I saw myself holding this beautiful man-child, and I understood. Now I knew why I was here. It was ME that the pallor hung over all the time. I was the one Michael was trying to reach and not David. Seeing my reflection in the mirror I understood my place. I was David’s reprieve.

I heard footsteps at the top of the stairs. Mrs. Fambrough was checking on us. I panicked when I remembered we were both naked, but there was nothing I could do. David was still crying, and I wasn’t going to let go of him no matter what the cost to my own dignity. I heard the floor-boards creaking just outside the door, as if she were listening, but as abruptly as she had come she departed. She understood. My admiration for her grew immensely.

I closed my eyes and held David close. My awareness of self vanished. David and I became one, bound by our half-brother and the sense of loss we both felt. We held each other as a link to Michael, and each of us received comfort from the other. In David I had a wealth of knowledge of a brother I had never known. In me David had both the semblance and form of Michael. We each gained from the other. Michael was no longer a barrier between us. Rather, he had become part of the glue binding us together.

“Sssshh,” I whispered. “Let it go.”

David wiped his eyes. “She crushed him. She ripped his heart out.”

“Sssshh.”

“No. I want to tell you.” He got up and sat on the bed. I grabbed a tissue off the night stand and handed to him as I sat down beside him. “He got pissed about the car, but that was because Dad said it was his and not ours. He wouldn’t accepted unless it could belong to us both. Dad said he’d get me a car later and that one was his, take it or leave it. Dad stormed out of the room without hearing Mike’s answer...

“Mom goes over and starts cooing over Mike, and she tells him. Just like that! He was dumbfounded. He just stood there with this look of horror on his face. I didn’t know what to say, either. Then she tells him how she and Dad HAD to get married when I was born. She never wanted to have his baby in the first place. She only married Dad ‘cause he got her knocked up--with me! I was standing there while she told him she never wanted me. He was her baby...I was just this ‘thing’ to her.

“Anyway, she met this guy right after I was born. We lived in Jacksonville then, and he was there on business. They had this thing going for a few months, and she got pregnant with Mike. The guy wouldn’t leave his wife, so they broke up. She named him Dennis Michael after him.

“Mike always thought he was named after Dad. When Mike told her that she laughed at him. That’s when he hit her with the keys. He called her a whore and ran out of the house. I didn’t know what to do. Grandma was there and came in the when she heard the shouting. I guess she thought it was me shouting ‘cause Mike had already left the house. I picked up the keys and ran after him.

I made the mental calculations in my head--twelve minus nine is three. I was born in March. Michael was born in December of the same year. My father was stepping out on my mother while she was giving birth to me. “You never told any one?” I asked.

“Who was I gonna tell? Grandma?”

“And you’ve carried this inside you for six months?”

“When I turned around and saw you, I thought I was losing my fucking mind!” he said. “I kept dreaming that morning over and over. Every night I’d see that telephone pole coming straight for us. Grandma’s asked me and asked me to tell her what happened, but I couldn’t. I can’t tell her Mike isn’t her grandchild.” A look of panic swept across his face. “You’ve got to promise me you won’t tell!”

“David, I...”

“Promise me! You’ll never tell her! Say it!”

“David, My Heart, I’ll never breath a word of this to your grandmother.” I kissed him lightly and stood up. I reached over and picked up Mike’s prom photo and put it with my things. “I’m going to borrow this, if you don’t mind. I’ll get it back to you later.”

“Why?”

“He was my brother, too, David. I have the right.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked. He came over to where I was standing. His posture suggested he was contemplating a move to take the photo from me.

“His father has a right to know. I have the right to tell him. My brother--our brother--was also his son. If Michael was born in December then he was conceived in March. I was born in March. I want to know why my father felt he needed...”

“OK. Do it. But don’t let Grandma know. I’ll never forgive you if you hurt her.”

“I’d never forgive myself.”

Supper was, well, subdued. Oh, the fish was outstanding! After all, Mrs. Fambrough was a fabulous cook. The conversation, however, was cold and shallow. David was physically and emotionally drained, I was a nervous wreck, and Mrs. Fambrough was fretful. Put those together, and you make for a very unpleasant table setting. I kept my eyes focused on my plate, knowing if I so much as glanced up at David’s dejected figure I’d give it all away. I finished my plate and put it in the sink. David got up and left the room. After a while I heard the water running in the tub upstairs. Mrs. Fambrough still sat at the table. I wanted desperately to talk to her, to take her hands in mine and tell her that it was going to be all right. I wanted to console her loss and allay her fears. And yet, I could do none of these. She was my strongest ally and my greatest weakness.

“I don’t expect you to talk about it,” she said abruptly. “I just want to know one thing: Are you in love with him?”

I was shocked. This was not what I expected. She must have thought we had a fight and that the crying was part of some reconciliation. “Yes, Ma’am. I am. Very much so. “

“Don’t hurt him, Mark. He’s had enough hurt.” She was picking at the bones on her plate. Her eyes suddenly flashed up at me. “Don’t for a minute think that I approve. I don’t. But I’d sell my soul to the devil to bring that boy some peace. If you can make him happy, then so be it. I might not give you my blessing, but I won’t stand in your way, either.”

“Fair enough. In return, I give you my word I’ll do all I can to make him happy.”

“It’s a deal then.” She stuck her hand out at me. I took it in mine and shook it. The bargain was struck. Neither of us ever mentioned the conversation again, and for the rest of her life she held true to her word.

I excused myself and went upstairs. David hadn’t been upstairs long enough to have finished his bath, so I went straight to the bathroom. He was lying in the tub with his eyes closed.

“Shut the door,” he whispered.

I gently closed the door behind me and got undressed. David sat up so I could give him the back-scrub he had requested several hours earlier. I took my time, and let the hot water soak the tension from his aching body. The knots of muscles slowly relaxed under my touch. It had been a rough day for us both.

David reached down and pulled out the stopper. He let most of the water drain out but remained sitting in the tub. He replaced the plug and turned on the water. “Get in,” he said. I climbed in and leaned back in his arms. The tub quickly filled with warm water. The sensation of his heat, the security of his strong arms around me, and the moist warmth of the water soon put me to sleep.

===============================================

I was sitting on a beach. The heavy gray of the skies caused the sand to glow white. Out in the distance I could see giant waves crashing on the breakers.

“So now you know,” the guy next to me said.

“Yeah, I know, but knowledge only brings more questions,” I replied.

“At least they’re more informed questions. What are you going to do now?”

“Confront Dad.”

“Confront? Don’t you mean exact vengeance?”

“He has a right to know. How can he know if I don’t tell him.”

“You just want revenge for all the times he's pointed out your shortcomings.”

I thought about his words. Was this about revenge? Did I only want to humiliate him? “You’re right. What should I do, then? Not tell him? He’d never know he had another son.”

“Then tell him. But understand what you’re doing and why. You may not get the results you expect. Revenge comes at a terrible price.”

“Like the one you paid?” I turned and looked at him. Michael brushed the auburn hair out of his green eyes and gave me a bittersweet smile. I was struck by the simple beauty of his face. “Was it worth it?” I asked.

“You mean, am I happy?” He looked out at the dark seas. “Grandma wouldn’t have gotten David out of Mother’s clutches before she destroyed him. He never would have met you. I’d say it was a fair trade-off.”

“But are you happy? Did you get what you wanted?”

“No.”

I, too, watched the churning seas. “Will I see you again?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It all depends.”

“On what?”

He turned and put a cool hand on my shoulder. “On how well you keep that promise you made.”

“I wish I had known you.”

“If wishes were fishes we’d all swim away. Think of me when you see storms at sea.”

================================================

David nudged me. The water was cold. “I gotta get out of this tub,” he said. We climbed out and made our way across the hall. David pulled back the covers and turned out the lights. I climbed in next to him and snuggled close under his arm to get warm.

“Michael was cremated, wasn’t he? You scattered his ashes at sea near your house that day in May.”

David was silent for a moment. “I took his ashes to our favorite spot on the beach. It had rained on and off all day, and the skies were nearly black they were so gray. The sea was real dark and choppy. All that darkness made the beach glow white. I walked out in the water and opened the canister. His ashes passed through my fingers. It seemed fitting.”

It all came together now. I could see the whole series of events laid out before me: David’s mother blamed him for her own poor choices in life, and she took it out on him. She doted on her other son only because he reminded her of a life she might have had. Her malignant disposition drove David away and Michael to his death. David, as usual, was left to pick up the pieces. He was forced to conceal the truth from the people he loved to protect his brother’s memory. In the process, David was on the verge of suicide himself when I met him. That was the special event he was saving the joint for that we had smoked at Beasley’s pond. My appearance, whether orchestrated or not, acted as a catalyst forcing him to confront his demons.

“How did you know that?’ he asked.

“That he was buried at sea? I dreamed it.”

“Oh.”

I ran my hand across his broad chest. He felt so good, so reassuring lying there next to me. “I love you, David. I think maybe I was meant to. Even so, I want to spend my life with you.”

I could just make out the sparkle of his blue eyes in the darkness. “I can’t imagine life without you,” he said as pulled me over on top of him. I felt his erection standing firm between my legs, its head pressed against my opening. I gave him what I hoped was a wicked little smile and slowly pushed back until he was inside me. The look on his strong face was worth the moment of pain. I slowly pushed myself up and sat up, driving his burning cock up my ass hole in the process. David let out a brief moan as my ass rested against his full nuts. Ever so gently I raised myself up and lowered back down onto him.

“Slow down,” he said. His squeezed his eyes shut trying not to come, but it was too late. His broad chest flushed red, and I felt him spasm inside me. ‘Ahhh! Shit! Your so tight. I just couldn’t hold it.”

I didn’t let it stop me. I continued my rocking back and forth. To his own surprise, David stayed hard. Soon his hips were bucking to my movements, matching me perfectly. My own cock grew hard again, and he started touching it. David licked his palms and started rubbing them over my cock head. I could feel the cum churning in my nuts, boiling to get out. I could hardly breath from the passion sweeping over me. David’s hands were so bringing me close, and his cock was finding new depths inside me. I leaned back with my hands on his knees and rode him hard. His cock pounded in and out of me, and his hands were making my whole body quiver with the need for release.

Suddenly David groaned aloud. He pushed up from the sheets and nearly threw me off him. His nuts drew up close to my ass and I felt his second load burst inside of me. I could hold it no longer. A thick stream of cum shot from my dick and splattered on the wall behind David’s head. A second blast landed on his face, and a third splashed across his chest. My cock continued pumping juice on his belly forming little white puddles on his bronzed skin.

I laid down on him and kissed him. His cock slowly slid from me, leaving me empty. We lay together, our legs intertwined and our chest heaving from the exertion. I ran my fingers through his soft white-blond hair and drew him into a light kiss. We slowly drifted to sleep in each others arms.