Green Room II
On the way home in the car, and the middle of nowhere, Fingers asked if I was gay. "What makes you ask that?"
"Just curious. I'll be honest, I think you're a great kid. I'm bi."
What a revelation! It wasn't easy to suppress a giggle. "You been with guys before?"
"No. But it's something I've thought about."
Unsure how to respond, I watched the powerful headlights gobble up the country miles. But curiosity got the better of me. "Can I ask what you're thinking?"
"I've been in a few situations with mates. Tame stuff. Not like you imagine."
"What do you think I'm thinking?"
"Not sure. You're very good looking and you have a nice body. I don't want this to sound wrong, but I enjoyed touching you the other night."
No kidding, I thought. "I was cool with that."
"It's just you and me tonight. Any chance I can massage you again?"
Oops! Time for a decision. Despite my nervousness, I remained calm. "I'm cool with that."
"Are you shy about this?"
"Depends on whether or not you are."
Once inside the house, Fingers made a dash for the fridge and produced two beers. We entered the den where he approached me and began to undo my shirt buttons. His hands shook and his fingers fumbled. "Are you sure you're okay with this, Stuart?"
"Looks like you're gonna have a heart attack, mate. Just relax and let your fingers do the walking."
He nervously admitted that he'd never been in a situation like this before, where a guy actually allowed him to be this close. Perspiration formed on his brow and his breathing became erratic. It didn't worry me, though. This bloke opened his house to me and treated me generously. I felt good. Better still, I enjoyed the way he admired me. He was also quite handsome, and I didn't mind what I saw. He worked out and kept himself in good shape. To assist him, I undid his shirt buttons, which freaked him a little.
"You might not like what's under there," he apologized in anticipation.
"Not too bad for a bloke of 40," I remarked as I peeled off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Seemed he used hair remover; smooth as a baby's butt. There was a little excess weight around the stomach, otherwise he was fit, with well toned skin and muscle. "So, what now?" I asked when my shirt joined his on the floor.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he repeated.
"Why not? You're not gonna rape me. Or are you?"
He laughed. "I don't need anyone to know about this, Stuart."
"You've not done this with Brett?"
"Not like this. He allows me to massage him sometimes but if I get too adventurous he loses his temper and doesn't speak to me for days. Unlike you, he's somewhat homophobic."
"Have you been naked with a guy?"
"Never. Well...on school camps when we skinny dipped. But we were all shy and ran for our towels after leaving the water."
"Okay, so let's swim nude. That's pretty cool and normal."
"Do you smoke?"
"No. Forget it."
"I'll share a joint if you have one."
As he left to get a reefer, I went to the pool and stripped. He emerged from the door to see me starkers; his eyes popped. My feet dangled in the pool. Although the night air was cool, the water felt quite warm.
"You don't have a problem being naked," he said as he sat beside me.
"Nope, so now it's your turn."
I could have bust laughing when he stood, turned his back and dropped his pants. I studied his muscular buns and figured they could push 20 kegs apiece with no trouble. He turned to face me and revealed a rock-hard dick, which I actually took as a compliment. However, I played down the situation and acted nonchalantly. It worked.
He sat beside me, dangled his legs in the water, then passed the joint. The matt black sky was alive with a million twinkling stars, some of which were in Fingers' eyes as he admired me. Hey, why not? So many people back in Byron loathed my guts, so this was a welcome change. Maybe G was right. Maybe there was a hero inside me, buried deep down.
I took the last drag of the joint and flicked it into the garden, then eased myself into the water, followed by Fingers. We drifted around, taking a few leisurely strokes here and there. Without warning, he grabbed me from behind and we wrestled, just as Kyle and I did. Fingers' body was that a mid twenties guy, one who was fit but hadn't exercised in a while. And he was one strong mother. "Do you need to go back to Byron," he asked as he held me in a bear hug from behind.
"Yeah, I do. Hey, I gotta go back to school to repeat my final year."
"Would you visit for school holidays if I provided the air ticket?"
"Not sure Brett would appreciate that. I don't want Brett to know about this either. He doesn't know I'm bi." It occurred to me then that Brett probably was aware of the relationship between Kyle and me.
"So we share a secret," Fingers smiled. "I'd like to see you again, Stuart. My God! I'm in love with you!"
So what's cooking here, G. Did I do something insane? Fact is, as the night wore on, I enjoyed Fingers even more. I didn't see any harm. But if Brett knew, he'd give me a helluva hard time.
Speak of the devil, he arrived home, beaming from ear to ear. Fingers and I sat at the breakfast table. I was dressed only in boxers because I needed a clean overall. "Hope you guys behaved," he joked.
"Yeah, right, you were out bonking Candy while I was home watching boring TV!"
"Pull the other leg. Hope you left my stash alone."
Brett joined us for breakfast, but said nothing about his night with Candy. He didn't need to, his happy disposition said it all.
By midday, I felt tired because of the heat in the barn, and my total lack of sleep. I thought a great deal about the previous night and how much I liked Fingers. He was the type of bloke who always had a lot of people around for one reason or another, but was lonely. A lot like me, especially with Kyle gone. I wondered what Kyle would think of what happened between Fingers and me. Maybe he would disapprove. He hated my relationship with a middle age woman a while back. He accused me of being her male whore. That relationship sparked a lot of fights between Kyle and me, but we stopped when Brett arrived on the scene and eventually befriended Kyle.
Fingers didn't show for most of the day, which surprised me. I thought he'd be all over me like a rash but was also thankful he wasn't. I didn't need Brett chewing my ear about what took place. Actually, Brett was too busy to even speak to me for a minute or two. That pissed me off because I itched to know all the grotty details about his night with Candy. Hahahaha! Yeah, right. Imagine my asking him about that. He would have clobbered me.
Fingers had a date with his girlfriend that night, which provided an ideal opportunity to talk with Brett privately. How would he react to my ugly confession? Despite my apprehension, I knew it had to be done.
After beetling back to the house I discovered Fingers gone. That was a relief; I didn't need him to ogle me while Brett was present.
Brett was chirpy, telling me what a great day he had with the yacht. He lit the outside barbecue and prepared steaks for dinner. I wore boardies while he was clad in cargo shorts. The evening was magic, one of those typical West Australian evenings--a huge open sky colored a marvelous palette of pinks and crimsons by the setting sun. We downed a beer each before Brett lit a joint, one for him and one for me. "So what did you guys get up to last night?" he asked.
"Not much," I lied.
"Fingers didn't rape you or anything?" he laughed.
"Why? Did he try that with you?"
"Christ, mate! The first night here I almost put a fist through his head. He massaged me like he did you, but when his hands went beyond my waistband I let him have it." Then he laughed again. "But you're just a slut so I guess it's okay."
"You and Candy are pretty tight."
Brett took a drag of the joint, then studied the cloud of blue smoke that drifted him his lips. "She's the finest woman on this earth--treats me like a king, and she's an expert in the art of making love."
"Tell me more!"
At that moment, I became the sudden and unwilling victim of Brett's considerable strength. He grabbed my arm and threw me into the pool. Those black guys weren't kidding when they described him as strong as a red `roo. He cracked when he saw the joint in my mouth turn to shredded flotsam. But the water was great, so I hung by my elbows and watched him light another joint for me. "Don't you normally go out with her on Fridays?" I asked.
"She didn't want a blond himbo hovering around so she gave me the night off."
"Hey, she didn't want you seeing her gawking at my blond good looks and god body."
"She probably did gawk at you, but she prefers men."
Brett's mood shifted to solemn. "I'm sorry I haven't spent much time with you--seriously. But you've seen how hectic it is around here."
"I've had a blast here, and Fingers is pretty cool."
"Oh? How cool?"
"I mean, just getting away from Byron is what I needed, and I also need to speak to you one to one."
"Since Kyle died, I've been a wreck. I spent most of my time tripping, and I was desperate for a break. I also wanted to apologize to your face."
I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I was about to reveal. "I've done some evil things, and one of them was getting my drug mates to beat you up."
"That weed's gone to your head, mate. Which time? I've been in a million fights."
"You, Susan, Kyle and Melanie went clubbing. You were met by some guys outside who laid into you. Worked you over a bit--okay, a lot."
Brett became silent, then walked to the barbecue where he turned the steaks. I exited the pool and stood opposite him.
"You got balls, Stuart--telling me that. But I don't believe you. You'd be too chicken to arrange something like that in case I found out. Why would you do that anyway?"
"I was jealous of the friendship you had with Kyle, and worried about what it did to Kyle and me. I hated you back then."
"Why didn't you do the job yourself?"
"You know that already."
"Yeah, because you're a spineless user and loser. You used everyone around you."
"Please! I came here to apologize."
"Why the guilts now, huh? Why now? And why did you come here? I know why. There's a pile of shit in Byron you don't wanna face. So you chickened out to Fremantle."
"You don't understand shit."
"Oh? On the contrary. I understand you, you little fuckweed. Don't tell me I don't understand. If you and Kyle were such good friends, why did you fuck his girlfriend? Huh? You were never his friend, you were his user. You hated him because he never bought your smack, you cunt."
My fist caught Brett unawares on the jaw. His head snapped back. He glared at me, and his lip bled. His eyes were on fire. "Hit me again," he snarled.
"I'm sorry, Brett, please."
His one fist connected with my mouth, the other with my gut. I crumbled to the ground, doubled up on my knees. The pain was intolerable. I tried not to cry and cough but failed. Luckily, I saw his foot coming and managed to roll to one side to avoid my ribs being caved in. I stood, and held him in a tight bear hug. But he was awesomely strong. "Brett! Stop it, stop it! This is going all terribly wrong!"
He broke away and hit me again in the gut, then left me coughing and choking on the ground while he returned to the barbecue and downed the rest of his beer, still glaring at me, until I began to cough blood.
Immediately concerned, he came to my aid. Or was it to gloat? My tears flowed freely from the intense pain. Then he offered his hand, and pulled me to my feet. "You better go clean yourself."