More of a coming of age story which shares a boy's learning of same-sex relationships with a man's understanding of letting the past go. I hope you enjoy it, if you do and want more, please let me know. Roy. sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk

And he Scores 4

Saturday came and went, both Fred and Bryan thought about each other often during the day. Fred was worried that his remembering Jimmy so emotionally would scare Bryan away, and thought he'd have to talk about the relationship and what it meant to him when -- if -- he saw him again. Bryan knew Fred had got upset remembering the past, and thought he'd have to be sure Fred didn't have to go through it again. It would be best forgotten, and not talked about.

Sunday afternoon came at last, and as the shadows in his garden lengthened, he heard his neighbour's car pull up outside their house and its doors slamming. Then he heard raised voices, a man's, a woman's, Bryan's and another boy's. Eventually, after the sound of their front door slamming, it went quiet. `I won't see him today.' Fred thought.

About an hour and a half later, Fred's doorbell rang. When he opened the door, a very sour-faced Bryan walked in, straight past him. He closed the door, and turned to look at the boy in his hall. Bryan stood there with a very mean glint in his eyes. "It's been a bad day." He said. "Don't ask."

Fred had to do something to cheer him up. "Lemonade?" he said. "Chocolate cake?"

"I'll have the drink, please. I don't want anything to eat."

They walked into the kitchen, and Fred poured out the lemonade. Bryan stood and held the glass to his lips, sipping instead of wolfing it down as he usually did.

"I taped the Arsenal game off the telly on Saturday, if you'd like to see it." Fred said, cheerfully.

"I watched it with Dad at Auntie Carol's." Bryan said, soullessly.

"I saw most of it, anyway, until Billy started. Dad got mad and switched it off then. I saw the goals though." He put the glass down on the table. There was still a quarter left in it. They looked at each other silently for over a minute.

Then Fred made a big mistake.

"I'm sorry about Friday, Bryan." He said.

"Don't mention it." Bryan said, coldly.

"But I want you to understand what Jimmy meant to me then--" he was going to add `and what you mean to me now', but Bryan, remembering his earlier thoughts, snapped "I don't want to talk about it."

"But Bryan I just wanted to tell you--"

Bryan raised his voice. "I said I don't want to talk about it. OK?"

Fred lost his temper at this rebuttal.

"No, it's not OK, Bryan." He shouted. "If you cared anything about me then you'd be quiet and listen to what I have to tell you, and not be so downright rude to me. Do you understand?" Fred leaned towards and bellowed the last three words at Bryan.

Bryan felt empty and alone in the world. His family hated him, his brother had blamed him for breaking some stupid ornament at Auntie Carol's and his parents had believed it, and told him he wasn't fit to be taken out anywhere. Now his new friend had wanted to tell him how much better that boy from his past was than him and -- and --. He felt his whole life collapse around him. He was suddenly scared beyond all help. He felt the warmth on his leg and looked down. Fred's eyes followed his and saw the spreading wet patch on his jeans. He turned and ran.

Fred ran to the door after him. It was wide open and he just saw the running Bryan turn left at the end of his driveway instead of right, towards his home.

What should he do? What could he do, without giving away their secrets? He just hoped the boy would cry himself out and go back home eventually. That's what he did when he ran away, he remembered. He sighed, closed the door quietly, and turned back to the kitchen.

A couple of hours later Fred's doorbell rang again. He opened the door expecting to see a despairing and tear-stained Bryan, but it was his neighbour Jack, Bryan's father.

"Hello Fred. You haven't seen our Bryan, have you? He's not in his room, and we thought he went to bed hours ago."

Fred paused for a moment. "No." he said, then saw Molly, Bryan's mother coming up the drive looking very distraught.

"Wait a minute, I might have!" he said, as she came up to them. "Was he in jeans and a blue sweatshirt? I saw a boy like that, it could have been Bryan, running that way-- he pointed left down the street "-a couple of hours ago."

"Yes, he was wearing jeans and that old blue shirt he likes!" Molly said. "Did you see where he went?"

"No, sorry. The boy I saw ran past as I glanced out earlier" Fred said, getting worried about Bryan and also afraid their liaisons would be discovered.

"Jack, we must go and look for him!" Molly cried.

"What about his brother?" Fred asked.

"Billy doesn't know where he is, either!" Molly said.

"No, I mean where is his brother?" Fred said.

"In his bed." Jack said.

"You go and stay with Billy," Fred said to Molly, "and Jack and I'll go and look for Bryan."

Fred and Jack walked the streets for over an hour, looking for Bryan, calling his name. When they got back, Molly was frantic. "What are we going to do?" she wailed.

"Let's try to stay calm." Fred said. "Is there anywhere here he could hide?"

"Do you think he's come back?" Jack said. "It might not have been him I saw." Offered Fred.

They searched the house, under every bed, in each cupboard. It was half past eleven when they found him, in the shed at the end of their garden.

"Bryan!" all three of them shouted as Jack shone the torchlight on his crouched form huddled in a corner.

Bryan struggled up, ran to Fred and hugged him. Jack and Molly looked at him, at Fred, then at each other, astonished.

"What's the matter, son?" Jack asked, sad that his son would run to a neighbour instead of his father.

"You won't believe me!" Bryan sobbed as he looked round at the father he loved. "You won't listen to me, only him!"

"I'm sorry, son. I should have." Jack said sadly.

"It's alright, Bryan. Billy broke the vase, he told us after we missed you." Molly said. "Please forgive us!"

Bryan looked at his father, his arms held out towards his son. Bryan looked up into Fred's face, saw him smile and nod, and walked over into his father's arms. He hugged the man tightly and sobbed. He held an arm out to his mother, who moved over and joined the family hug. The two adults then looked up at Fred.

Fred smiled at the reunited group and said, "I think a hot bath, a warm bed and a bucketful of love is called for, don't you? I'm off to bed now, I'm glad everything's turned out alright. Goodnight!"

They all walked back into the house, Jack shook Fred's hand warmly and thanked him for his help, then Fred returned home. He was genuinely glad that Bryan seemed to have survived the  day's events relatively unscathed, and also to a lesser extent that their relationship remained a secret.

Monday morning at Nine thirty Fred was surprised after the bell rang to find Molly and Bryan at his front door.

"Hello Fred, I'm sorry to bother you, but I wonder if you could help me?" Molly said.

"Bryan was sneezing a lot last night, and I thought he might have caught a chill after being out cold and wet like that last night. I've kept him home from school and taken the day off to be with him, but they've just rung from the office, there's a very important deal coming in that just can't wait another day. I wouldn't ask but Bryan insists he'll be alright with you, he says you and he have watched football videos together before. I'd leave him on his own, but if he gets a fever--"

"It's no bother at all, Molly." Fred interrupted. "Football videos and hot chocolate are the best known cure for a boy's cold, and I've got plenty of both. It'll give me a chance to sort my video collection out, anyway. You go off to work and clinch that deal, I'll keep Bryan warm here. Will you be back in time for Billy getting home from school?"

"Yes, I'll pick him up at school on the way home. I just can't thank you enough, Fred, especially after last night as well." She smiled and held Fred's hand in a `thank you' gesture, ushered Bryan in through the door, and left.

Once inside, Fred helped Bryan off with his coat. Fred laid it over the stair rail. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Very sorry for being stupid yesterday." Bryan answered. "I really fucked up good, didn't I?"

"A bit." Fred said.

"Are we still friends?" Bryan asked, a little concerned.

"We never weren't." Fred replied. "Hot chocolate?" he asked.

"Not just now, thanks." Bryan said. "I've had two already this morning. I'm not all that keen on hot milk, anyway. It tastes funny."

"Yours is quite tasty!" Fred joked. Bryan leant in against him, happy their friendship was still intact.

"Can we go upstairs?" Bryan asked, quietly.

"Why, what's up there?" Fred joked, wrapping his arm over the boy's shoulder.

"Your bed." Bryan said, holding Fred round the waist.

"Oh!" Fred said, in mock surprise.

"Please!" Bryan begged. "I want to be cuddled."

Silently they climbed the stairs and entered Fred's bedroom. Bryan kicked off his trainers as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, followed by two t-shirts. Fred just watched him.

"Mum wanted me to stay warm." Bryan explained.

Fred slipped his jumper over his head and unbuttoned his shirt as Bryan slid his jeans down and stepped from them. "Too old?" asked Fred as he let his shirt slip from his shoulders and fall to the floor.

"Nah!" said Bryan, "Just right!" Fred had always kept himself trim, and now, despite his age, there was no unwanted fat or `pudginess'.

He watched as Fred lowered his trousers then, in one swift move, he pulled down his boxers and dived under the duvet, covering himself. Fred slipped off his underpants and slid into the bed beside him.

Man and boy held each other tight, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies.

"Just hold me, Fred." Bryan whispered. "I want to feel -- happy."

Fred did as he was asked, hoping it was working.

After about five minutes, just as Fred was thinking Bryan had fallen asleep, he felt something growing against his body. When it was fully erect, Fred said "Well, that seems to be happy, at least!"

They unwrapped from each other's arms, and Bryan jumped away giggling and said, "What are we going to do, Fred?"

"Everything!" came the excited reply.

"OK!" Fred said, leaned over and kissed the boy on the forehead, and got out of bed.

Fred was gone for a couple of minutes, and Bryan wondered what was going on. "Whatcher doing, Fred?" he called out. "You'll see!" came the reply from the bathroom.

Fred came back carrying a small jar. As Bryan watched, he scooped some grey cream from the jar and wiped it onto Brian's hard cock, then spread it over by rubbing up and down.

"Ohhh! That's nice!" Bryan said. The cream made it easy for Fred's hand to slide over the skin on Bryan's cock, as well as slide that up and down. After only a few seconds, Fred stopped, put the jar on his bedside table, and laid back on the bed.

"Owh!" whimpered the disappointed boy.

Fred lifted his arms. "Come here, sexy!" he said. Bryan scrambled over onto him, and as he did, Fred opened his legs so that Bryan had to kneel between them.

"What are you going to do?" the curious boy asked.

"It's what you're going to do!" Fred said, holding his arms up to him, inviting him down, and curling his own legs over the back of boy's.

As Bryan leaned forward, Fred lifted his legs to behind the boy's thighs, preventing him from shuffling back, and lifted his hips so that the tip of Bryan's cock touched his arse. Bryan froze in sudden realisation.

"Push, Bryan." Fred said.

"Are you going to let me -"

"Just push, Bryan." Fred repeated.

Bryan pushed, and his cock started sliding into Fred, who'd already lubricated himself in the bathroom. He kept a constant pressure, and over a couple of seconds slid all the way in.

Fred closed his eyes tight, breaking the wonderful vision of Bryan's face as he entered somebody for the first time, and pushed his head back into the pillow. It had been a long, long time, and Jimmy hadn't been all that small, either. Quickly, Fred banished the memory from his mind.

Bryan had never felt anything like this. Better than any hand, better than Fred's lips, even. This was IT, the best thing ever.

He looked into Fred's face and saw the pain. "I'm hurting you!" he gasped. Fred gripped with his legs behind Bryan's thighs, preventing him from pulling out. "It just takes getting used to!" he gasped.

In a few seconds, Fred's body accepted Bryan's entry, and by guiding the boy's body to and fro with his hands, introduced him to the world of male intercourse.

Bryan started slowly, savouring the new sensation, feeling something better with every thrust. Gradually his lust took control, although he enjoyed seeing in Fred's face that he was giving pleasure as well as receiving it. As his desire to reach climax grew, he channelled all his effort into it, revelling in the feelings coming from his tunnelling cock.

As he reached the peak, Bryan felt his cock swell and thicken, an enlargement that Fred noticed as well. On reaching the point of no return, the moment immediately before release, he thrust deep into Fred, uttered a deep voiced "Uuuurrrggghhhhhh!" and blasted his cum deep into his adult friend's bowel. His climax went on and on: he pumped cum far too many times to count, more than ever before, and without doubt more than he would for a long time hence.

Drenched with sweat and completely exhausted, he collapsed onto Fred gasping for breath, and shedding a few tears. Tears of joy, marking his passage into adulthood. Tears of gratitude, for what Fred had taught him and allowed him to do. Tears of love, for he felt truly loved.

After a long rest cuddling in each others arms, they showered and dressed. Fred cooked sausage, egg and chips for them both, and they spent the rest of the afternoon on the settee watching the best of Fred's football videos.

Every time Fred glanced at Bryan, he seemed to be radiating a glow. Every time, Bryan would look at him and smile, which made the glow brighter. Neither of them wanted to `play about' again that day, it seemed as if it would spoil it, take the `specialness' away. They sat watching the football videos, sometimes holding hands, sometimes cuddling, until Molly arrived with Billy.

Fred invited them in, as he wanted her to see that they had spent the day watching football, as he'd told her.

"How is he?" she asked when she saw him sitting watching the video and sipping a glass of lemonade.

"He's fine now, Molly. I made him take a shower earlier because he worked up quite a sweat this morning, and it drained him quite a lot."

Bryan jumped, coughed, half-choked and blew the mouthful of lemonade down his nose when he heard that. Most of the remaining lemonade from the glass spilt in his lap, soaking his jeans as he coughed heavily. He turned his head and looked daggers at Fred, who, stood behind Molly, shrugged his shoulders and raised his arms in a `what did I say?' pose.

"That's a nasty cough, Bryan, I was going to say you were better now, but--" Fred said, trying hard to suppress his laughter.

"It just went down the wrong way," Bryan coughed. "I'm fine, really I am!"

"Good. Come on now, Bryan, tea and an early night. School tomorrow." Molly said.

Bryan stood. For the second time in as many days, the front of his jeans was soaked. "Just look at the state of you!" she said. She overthanked Fred for having Bryan whilst he was off school, to which he replied "Anytime, Molly, honestly anytime. Actually, I've been rather grateful for the company."

Fred stood at the door and watched them go. He smiled to himself, shook his head and closed the door. He walked back to the living room, got out a glass, a bottle of Glenfiddich, his favourite scotch whisky, sat on the warm seat recently occupied by Bryan and poured himself a generous dram. It had been an eventful couple of days.