Date: Thu, 16 Dec 2021 21:54:02 +0100 From: Marin Giustinian Subject: Banished In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at . Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale. ---------- Banished by Marin Giustinian ---------- Aberdeen, Scotland, July 2013 / March 2021 ---------- Angus MacKay, a fervent member of the Congregation of the True God, banned his rebel son, Dorian, from his home in Aberdeen. The eighteen year old lad, for the first time, had stood up against his father, asserting that he was a confirmed atheist and that the church's preaching about sin and salvation was bollocks, a load of toxic religious trash. MacKay, furious, slapped Dorian so hard that he fell face down on the living room floor. He barely managed to get back on his feet, look at his father, dead in the eye, and utter, "I despise you." "Get out of this house! Never put a foot back on my doorstep! Do you hear! Never! You are no longer my son," hissed MacKay. Jenifer, his wife took a step towards her Dorian. "Woman, stay back. This sinful blasphemer is no longer your son." Darcy, Dorian's younger brother, was there, horrified. He dashed over to grab his brother. MacKay seized the skinny twelve year old lad by the nape of his neck and threw him head first on the floor as well, leaving him there, sobbing. "Wimp" hissed MacKay, looking down at Darcy. He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Dorian furiously galloped up the stairs to his room. On the way he nearly knocked his sister over as she came rushing down. "What's going on here?" exclaimed Trisha, seeing her little brother weeping in his mother's arms. Jenifer simply replied, "Take Darcy with you. His nerves can't stand this. Your father has thrown Dorian out the house. He has blasphemed God and the church and is no longer a part of the family." Trisha turned pale. She pulled Darcy to her, wiped his face, and took him upstairs. The lad collapsed on his bed. Trisha gently closed the door. Then she went into Dorian's room. "Dorian, explain..." Dorian, was franticly stuffing clothes in a bag. He stuttered, "I stood up against Father and told him that I was an atheist and that the church was utter tosh! He sentenced that I was no longer his son. He told mother to heed what he said and then told Darcy that I was no longer his brother. Darcy ran to hug me. Father intercepted. He threw him on the floor. You know how high strung Darcy is... Our father's a sick man!" "Didn't you know that what you said would infuriate Father?" "More or less" "Did you hope he would throw you out?" "Not really... but..." "But... but! You're a misfit, Dorian. It was time you got out of here." Dorian's eyes brimmed with tears. "I know you're right, Trisha... but... I love you. I love Darcy too... I didn't have the guts to leave on my own. Now things are clear! I'm BANISHED..." Trisha hugged Dorian, then whispered in his ear, "Are you serious when you said you're an atheist?" "Dead serious" "I love you too, little brother. I think you've simply gone astray. You've got my number in your cellphone. Call if you need... and call even if you don't need. Let me and Darcy know how you're doing. Promise?" "Promise..." Dorian held on to Trisha for a long moment. The front door downstairs slammed. Trisha whispered, "Father's back. Good luck..." "Thanks, Trisha... Take care of Darcy... He's so delicate and I'm afraid that..." "I know... Don't worry. I'm his big sister too!" ---------- As lads, Dorian and Darcy lived each in his own world, with one exception: music. They played music together. Dorian as well as Darcy attended music school. Dorian was an accomplished player of the Celtic harp and Darcy excelled as a young flutist. They were often required by their father to play during the Sunday church service. The six year difference of age between the two brothers didn't exist when they played together. There was no need for them to even utter a word in order to understand each other. Music sufficed. With Dorian's banishment, for Darcy, that vital bond was shattered, ripped apart. He was devastated. ---------- Dorian made his way to the Isle of Skye. He found work at the Talisker Distillery in the visitors centre and shop. After four years on the job, he was promoted to become the manager of the centre and earned a very decent salary for the thrifty bachelor he was. He did splurge in buying a small Vauxhall combo van and renting an ultramodern furnished one room cabin on a knoll overlooking Loch Harport. Dorian lived a rather solitary existence but was never lonely. He hiked, admiring the singular beauty of Skye, planning nothing in advance, living day by day. His wound of banishment was still there but hurt less. He cherished his conversations on the phone with Trisha. He learned that their mother had been put into an institution after a nervous breakdown. Trisha found a job working in the Harlaw Academy cafeteria in downtown Aberdeen. She dated a certain Bill, but still stayed on in the family home, keeping house for Angus and Darcy. He also was told that Darcy and his father avoided each other as much as possible. She was glad to say that the little brother excelled in school, and played the flute like a professional, never complaining, never laughing. "You wouldn't recognise him, Dorian. He is absolutely gorgeous, like a top model in the magazines. It's a shame he's putting his good looks to waste! He's always keeping to himself. I feel that he misses you a lot!" said Trisha as Darcy just turned seventeen. Dorian did long to see Darcy again. He even found a picture of him on the internet, playing a flute solo during the June recital of his music school. "Maybe next year... when Darcy is eighteen, maybe he'll come for a visit..." Dorian sighed to himself, looking at the picture, "Maybe..." ---------- A year later, Dorian's phone rang. It was 8:00 AM. He didn't recognise the number. "Hello..." "Hello Dorian, it's Darcy, your brother, calling..." Dorian gasped hearing the deep soft voice of his little brother. "Darcy, are you all right?" "I've never been better. Can I come to see you in Skye?" "Of course! When?" "As soon as possible" "And when is that?" "I can arrive in Kyle station at 4:15 PM..." "Today?" "Today!" "I'll meet you there!" shouted Dorian on the phone, tears brimming in his eyes. "I've got to go now. We'll tell each other everything when I get there. I love you, Dorian." "I love you too, Darcy..." "See you later..." "Yeah... later..." "Bye" "Bye..." Dorian stood there, dumbfounded, looking at his silent phone. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Suddenly, he changed the linens on the bed, gave the bathroom a quick clean up, dressed, and left for work. When he arrived, he told the director, "I'll be leaving for Kyle a bit early this afternoon, at 3:00 PM to be precise... My little brother's arriving. I haven't seen him for six years! I can't believe he's coming!" ---------- Once at the station, Dorian tried to look calm. But when he recognised Darcy coming out the door, towing a suitcase, his flute case slung over the shoulder, Dorian ran. They collided in a hug, laughing together. They were suddenly alone in the world. The weather was overcast, stormy, a little bit chilly, normal for a Highland summer. At first the conversation in the van was awkward, in fact, totally stupid, like, "You've really grown," or "was the train crowded?" Then the dreaded question... "How long do you plan to stay?" "Depends on you..." replied Darcy, giving his brother a worried smile. As they drove along, Darcy managed to tell Dorian that Trisha had kept him informed about his work, his harp, his new van... and that was about it. "In fact there's not much more to say... And you?" "I'll tell you everything after a good shower. I have to scrub myself clean and shampoo the Aberdeen stench out of my hair!" ---------- A little past five, they arrived in front of the cabin. "Dorian, this place is almost too beautiful. Being here with you is a dream. Don't wake me up!" "You're already awake, Darcy, and all of this real. Grab your bags... Hungry?" "A little..." "Shit, be honest!" "I'm famished!" laughed Darcy, tagging along. Once inside the cabin, Darcy looked around while Dorian put together a snack. Darcy gave his opinion, "I definitely approve! The gigantic sliding door-windows, the view, the simplicity, everything is the total opposite of the stupid, smelly little project house in Aberdeen we both come from." "I'm glad you feel good here." "I feel good with you, Dorian, and even better here!" Dorian had never seen Darcy so exuberant and cheerful. He was relishing every second. After downing the snack, Darcy asked if he could unpack, take his needed shower, and change. Dorian showed him where he could stash his belongings, gave him a towel and said, "You can use all the stuff you need in the bathroom." "Do you have shaving foam?" "In the closet beside the shower," replied Dorian, suddenly aware that his little brother now used a razor! ---------- If Darcy was handsome getting off the train, after grooming himself, he was breathtaking. He was dressed with the best of taste in a black kilt and matching t-shirt and sweater. His dark hair gleamed, enhancing his flawlessly pale skin and intense green-blue eyes. He and Darcy had the same plump yet nervous lips, ready to curl into a fleeting smile whenever something pleased them. Dorian had problems admitting to himself that this handsome young man standing there was his 'little' brother. "Don't move! Let me look at you, Darcy! You are absolutely gorgeous!" Darcy replied with a silent blush, walked over to the sliding glass door and looked out over the water. "Dorian?" "Yes..." "I want to live here with you. May I stay?" "As long as you want, Darcy." "As long as YOU want, Dorian. I don't want to be a burden. You're used to living alone with no one bothering you... and I just..." Dorian interrupted, stating, "I said I WANT you to stay! Is that clear?" "I needed to hear that, Dorian. I really did..." "Listen, let's call Trisha, then go to my favourite pub. It's only five minutes from here. We can enjoy a pint or two, eat like gluttons, come back, stoke the fire, and sip a few drams of Talisker, talking and cuddling to our heart's content." "I'm all for it!" Dorian dared kiss Darcy on the cheek, then whispered, "Let's go." Darcy gently touched his kissed cheek, then skipped out to the van, as if he were dancing. ---------- During the meal, Dorian told Darcy about his work saying that they were understaffed in the visitors centre. "I have to greet the people, supervise the organisation of the guided tours, stock the shop, see that everything's sparkling clean, and then do the paperwork." "Maybe I could give you a hand." "Wait... I've got an idea... Would you accept the job of hosting, you know, welcoming the clients, ushering them to their tour, and keeping the premises perfectly clean... You could be, in a sense, our 'steward' -- could you do that?" "Of course I could!" "I imagine how good you'd look in our exclusive full Scottish attire, kilt, sporran, stockings, Talisker tartan, shirt and vest. You'd get your picture taken all day long." "Sounds awesome," grinned Darcy, laughing. "We'd have the same hours... I can coach you to begin with." "I'm your man, Dorian!" "Great!" There was a moment of silence before Darcy spoke up. "Dorian, now if you're ready, can I tell you a few things about myself?" "I'm always ready, brother." Darcy spoke about his school, his lack of mates, and his disinterest in girls. Then he talked to great length about their mother's hospitalisation and their father's depressing attitude. "Father spends his time drinking and praying. He's stubborn as dirt. Your name is never ever pronounced. However Trisha and I often speak about you; you were our favourite subject of conversation." Dorian blushed, almost smiling, then said, "Father should have been hospitalised instead of Mum... His damn religion is toxic!" Darcy didn't reply. "Are you a believer?" asked Dorian Darcy thought a minute or so and replied, "The Bible says that God is love. I believe in love. I've never experienced true love in my flesh and blood, if you see what I mean... but..." Dorian nodded. "I've never experienced God either, for that matter. But I trust that both God and love are worth believing in. That's what I believe; that's my faith." Dorian listened, then mused aloud saying, "Love... God... Faith... vast subject... and the flute?" Darcy suddenly beamed, "Ah, the flute! Vast subject too! I'm working on Bach's flute sonatas, but without the harp accompaniment, I admit that they are a wee bit severe..." "I'll find the scores on the internet." "You mean you still want us to play together like we used to?" "More than ever! Dimwit! Dessert?" "Dessert? Of course! Dimwit, yourself!" As they were finishing, Darcy explained that Trisha had lent him £200. If he could get the job, that would be great. He could even pay her back fast. "You'll get the job! And as for money, I earn way enough for two, so forget about that." "But if I earn my share too, then couldn't we can buy the cabin?" Damian suddenly looked straight into Darcy's eyes and slowly uttered, "Brother, you go fast... We were separated for so long, I'll have to learn to keep up." "Dorian, deep down inside, we've never been separated." When they went out, a steady twilight drizzle was falling with distant thunder grumbling in the hills. Driving back to the cabin, Darcy asked, "Why did you buy a van? You don't need such a big car just for yourself, do you?" "It's not really that big, but it's big enough to haul my coal and kindling, butane gas cylinders, and grocery stock. Also, I can sleep in it when I go on weekend hikes..." "Can we go together sometimes?" "No problem -- There's room enough for two -- by the way, do you mind if we share my bed tonight. I can get you a cot or something later, if you want." "Dorian, I've ALWAYS wanted to share your bed! We were condemned to separate rooms in order to avoid, as Father put it, shameful temptations." Dorian, laughed, "I remember... Let's try to forget about him and enjoy the 'shameful temptations' of sipping whisky and cuddling -- just to get started." Darcy chuckled, nodding his approval. ---------- The cabin was still warm. Dorian poked the coals, tossed a few shovelfuls of anthracite in the stove, put the bottle of Talisker on the coffee table along with two very elegant glasses, and lit a candle. Darcy discarded his shoes and curled up on the sofa. The last light of day was dimming outside. The drizzle settled into steady, stormy rain. Dorian poured each a shot of whisky, handed Darcy his dram and plopped down on the sofa with his brother. Darcy snuggled up closer and lifted his glass. Dorian did the same. Their glasses chimed together as they exchanged the gentlest smile imaginable. Nothing was said. Darcy broke the silence, saying, "It's wonderful being brothers. We don't have to talk to be comfortable together. I can understand you by just being close to you like this... Wait, that's not right... I can feel you instead of 'understanding' you. That's a special kind of love." Dorian meditated a moment before replying. "I'm now realising that if God exists, He is always silent. According to the Scriptures, in the beginning He just said that things should be and they happened. Since then, silence. God is love, you say... God is silence too, and silence at this very instant, Darcy, is overflowing with love. I love you, man! So don't say 'a special kind of' love. Just say 'love'? Darcy was overwhelmed. His hand slightly trembled as he touched Dorian's cheek. Dorian gently took his it in his and added, "But this being said, I think it's better for me to shut up," chuckled Dorian, Darcy's hand still in his. Gusts of wind thrashed curtains of rain against the windows. Darcy shivered. "Chilly?" "No, just happy..." "Give me a few seconds," whispered Dorian as he went over to his MacBook Air. Suddenly the first measures of Mozart's concerto for harp and flute, in C major, K299, filled the room. "Do you remember?" "My God, YES. We listened to that together before Father would tell us to put some real music on the hi-fi. He only tolerated hymns and jigs! Ha! Later on, in my room, I'd put my ear plugs in and weep, listening to it on my phone, missing you..." "Promise me you'll no longer weep!" "I don't promise anything, because I might weep now for happiness! You know how emotional I am!" "Yes, I remember..." Dorian turned up the volume and returned to the sofa. Rain continued to whip the windows, flames danced in the stove, Darcy wiggled around and laid his head in Dorian's lap, eyes closed. Dorian gently caressed his brother's raven hair, admiring the serene beauty of his moist lips faintly smiling in the candlelight. When the concerto ended, Dorian put their empty glasses on the table. Darcy rose, his kilt slightly tenting. "Sleepy?" inquired Dorian taking their glasses and whisky to the kitchen counter "Not really, but I do think we'd be better in bed, don't you?" "Definitely... You can use the bathroom first. I'm going to poke the fire, straighten up a little, and take a quick shower." ---------- Darcy threw back the covers, grinning, as Dorian appeared nude in the dim bedside light. "I see you sleep in the same attire as I do..." commented Dorian. Darcy held out his arms. Dorian crawled in bed and grabbed Darcy in a tight embrace. Their legs entwined. They sighed, laughed, kissed each other's neck, pressing their chests and hunching their crotches together. After a minute or two of revelling, Darcy disappeared under the covers and began sucking Dorian's moist erection. Dorian gasped, froze, and seized Darcy's head, pulling him up, "Do you realise what you're doing?" "Yes" "Don't you think..." Darcy interrupted, "No, I don't think, Dorian! Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me you don't want me to do what I'm doing. Say it..." After an instant of tense silence, Dorian sighed, smiled, and gave his brother the deepest, most meaningful kiss possible. Then spinning around towards the foot of the bed, Dorian took Darcy's glans between his lips and teased the tip with his tongue. Darcy hummed, opened his thighs, and sucked as deep as he could Dorian's throbbing cock. Bliss. They kneaded each other's buttocks, coaxing their cocks to dance in each other's mouths. Things became eager, intense, feverish, until the moment of total abandon drew nigh. They sucked deeper and deeper. Their tongues twirled, slurped, as their throats opened, yearning to be fed. Then lightning struck! Darcy, then Dorian spewed their precious semen as each drank, swallowing each surge of their souls' offerings. Dorian, licking his lips crawled through the tangled sheets and faced Darcy. His ravished little brother was panting, head thrown back, a drop of his cum pearling in the corner of his lips. Dorian kissed him ever so gently. Suddenly laughing, Darcy squealed out loud "Dorian? Do you think we're going to hell?" Dorian's reply was immediate. "Impossible! We're already in heaven!" ---------- Dawn in the summer breaks early in the Highlands. Its golden glow covered the brothers, lazily entwined, deep asleep. The rain had ridden the sky of its dreary gloom, leaving behind the promise of a sun-filled day. Darcy was the first to open his eyes. He snuggled his face into Dorian's silky armpit and tickled him with the tip of his tongue. Dorian startled, then retaliated, rolling over on Darcy to smother his tormentor with a good-morning kiss. Darcy writhed, then warned, "I'm going to pee!" "Not without me!" quipped back Dorian, jumping off the bed. Darcy chased behind. They raced into the bathroom and, standing in front of the toilet, they nudged each other, side by side, duelling with their piss-streams, giggling like school boys. "Dorian, you have the most beautiful penis that ever hung on a man," complimented Darcy. "My penis thanks you..." replied Dorian, shaking off the last drops as he looked at Darcy's, "I think it's just like yours..." "We match in a lot of ways," concluded Darcy. "I agree." "Happy?" inquired Darcy. "I'm VERY happy and I'm hungry too! Aren't you?" "Famished! Let me fix breakfast." "While I fire up the stove." Dorian fetched a fleecy house robe from his closet and tossed it to Darcy. "Don't catch a cold!" "And you?" inquired Darcy. "I've got an old baggy angora sweater I love to wear inside!" The stove roared red as they devoured their eggs, toast, and bacon. "What time are we on duty at the distillery?" asked Darcy, drinking his tea. "Quarter to ten." "Then we've got some time before getting underway..." "Yes, we do. What do you have in mind?" "Get back in bed together... I'm still thirsty..." purred Darcy rubbing Dorian's leg with his foot. "Now that you mention it, I think I'm still thirsty myself!" beamed Dorian, winking over his teacup. ---------- They lazily pulled themselves out of bed and made their way, hand in hand to the shower. There was ample room for two. As they were dressing, Dorian said, "Wait a minute. I've got an extra Talisker kilt. I want you to wear it. That way I can show you off to the General Director and ask him to hire you as our 'steward'. Splash some of my cologne on you too!" Darcy admired himself in the mirror standing beside his big brother. Dorian pinched a bit of pink into Darcy's cheeks, grabbed his hand, and darted off to the van. Ten minutes later, Dorian was introducing Darcy to the two guides, the cleaning lady and the salesman as he prepared his counter before opening time. They warmly complimented Dorian. Darcy felt welcome. Then Dorian took Darcy to the Director's office. Dorian explained how he planned to use his brother's presence in the shop, welcoming and ushering the visitors to their tour as they arrived, carrying their purchases to the car or the bus as they left. The Director inspected the lad from head to toe, smiled, and agreed to take Darcy on for a two weeks trial period before drawing up a contract. Once back in the shop Dorian asked Henry, the salesman, to explain to Darcy all the different whiskies he had on the shelves and asked Malcolm to take him along on the first morning visit in the distillery.

"Darcy, I'm leaving you in excellent hands. I've got paper work to do in the office. We'll go have lunch at the café when I'm finished. This afternoon, I'll brief you on your new duties." ---------- Their day flew by. In less than a hour, Darcy was completely briefed. Dorian even took Darcy's mensurations to have two complete costumes made. Then they discussed personal matters, such as opening a bank account and informing the local authorities that he now resided with his brother. They even called Trisha for her to send his flute scores and his high school Advanced Higher. At four, it was time to close shop and go grocery shopping. By five thirty they were on their way back home, loaded with enough food to last for at least two weeks -- so they thought... "Dorian, I'm sort of nervous at the thought of making music together and at the same time, I can't wait! When can we start?" "I'm nervous too, brother. It's been six years! After dinner... Would that be fine with you?" "That's what I was hoping..." It so happened that Darcy was an excellent cook. As soon as they finished the dinner dishes, Darcy and Dorian tuned their instruments together. Dorian began the first measures of their favourite folk melody, Carolan's Farewell. "Dorian! I think I'm going to weep!" "Well, just play and weep at the same time! Let's give it a go together. One, two, three..." After that little warm-up, Dorian found Bach's scores for flute and harp on the internet. They began by the Sonata No.2 in E flat major, BWV 1031. Darcy knew his part by heart. Usually musicians play Bach in a kind of cold, mathematical way. The warmth between the brothers introduced a more sensual interpretation that neither alone could have created. Dorian was astonished at Dorian's sound, its depth, its inimitable richness, filling his heart, lifting his soul. "Darcy, how do you do that? I feel barren playing along with you." "Don't just play the notes, Dorian. Don't play 'along' with me... Play inside the notes, make them yours, make them ours. Do like I do. I play in you and not 'with' you. You must dare to get inside, deep inside. That way we lose ourselves as we enter each other's music, each surrendering to the other, body and soul..." Dorian looked a bit puzzled. "Listen, just relax and join me. Don't think, don't fear, just enjoy." The melding of their melodies was a musical miracle. They began once more. Dorian dared go even further. His body took control as they played and when Darcy lowered his flute, he looked at Dorian, beaming. "That's what I meant. That's us, you and me, you in me and me in you. Let's hug!" They held each other, barely aware of what was actually happening deep inside. Their playing continued until close to midnight. "Bedtime?" "Any time!" "For sleep, I mean..." "That we shall see," hummed Darcy, giving his big brother a very tender kiss. ---------- During the following three days, they settled Darcy's installation. The art of whisky with Malcolm was no longer a mystery. Darcy felt like he could answer all the questions. Then his full attire arrived. At home, after work, Dorian had more fun dressing Darcy, showing him all the tricks about wrapping the kilt and carrying the tartan over his shoulder. Dorian stood back and admired him. He was an icon, a pagan angel disguised as a perfect Highlander. "How do you feel dressed like that?" "I feel... In fact I don't know how I feel... I just feel good seeing how you look at me!" "Be you dressed like a lord or stark naked, you're simply beautiful, Darcy. I love you whatever." "Is your love deep enough for us to fuck?" calmly inquired Darcy, point-blank. Dorian gasped, then caught his breath, "What?" "I asked, Is your love deep enough for us to fuck?" "And yours?" asked Dorian in turn. "My love for you, Dorian, is total! I need your cock inside me, I need your cum to surge deep inside me, breed me with your soul. I need to give and lose myself in you too. I need it as much as I need to breathe, to laugh, to love. Did I answer your question?" Darcy held his breath. "Tonight?" uttered Dorian. "Now!" replied Darcy beaming, their eyes still locked as his kilt fell to the ground. ---------- That afternoon was exceptionally sunny and warm. The sliding glass doors were wide open. A scent of summer flowed through the cabin. Dorian reached out and touched Darcy's lips, then his neck. Darcy stood still. Dorian gently unbuttoned the shirt of his otherwise naked brother -- then himself. Their skin glowed in the slanting sunlight. A pearl of precum gleamed on the tip of Darcy's elegant erection. Dorian whispered, "I'll fetch a dram of oil. I don't want to hurt you." "I don't care if you hurt me," softy replied Darcy. The instant was vibrant. Both felt that henceforth their flesh would meld like their music, uniting them from inside. Male bodies conceal treasures of ecstasy that few dare to discover. Darcy and Dorian were on the verge of living that miracle. ---------- Dorian's instinctive tongue delighted Darcy, opening him, rimming him, driving him mad with lust. When Dorian's slender cock slipped into Darcy, prostatic bliss sparkled, gently exploding throughout his quivering flesh. Dorian's body undulated on its own, his cock, lost in Darcy, danced. Slowly, they both went wild. They became a clenching tempest of reckless abandon. Then exploding like twin stars, Darcy screamed as Dorian spewed his cum deep inside. Dorian howled as Darcy's entrails sucked him in, sweeping them both into oblivion, entangled in a mess of sweat-drenched sheets. Catching his breath, Darcy managed to utter, "So that's what it's like. I saw lightning in a clear blue sky, Dorian! You are fantastic -- absolutely fabulous!" Dorian cradled Darcy in his arms, covering him with kisses, purring, "Whenever you can, I'm ready." Young, fresh hormones seem to always be ready. Darcy's were no exception. He fucked his brother with glee, constantly humming, grunting, and panting. Dorian discovered with Darcy's perfect cock dancing inside him, not only physical rapture but beyond that, the mysterious bliss of total communion with his beloved. They both staggered, blurry eyed to the shower. Under the flowing hot water, they kissed, fondled, gently laughing as they soothed each other's touchy anus. "Let's go to the pub, drink and dine and maybe play with some of the other folk musicians there, just to celebrate!" suggested Darcy as they were towelling off. "Are you as good at folk as you are at classical music?" asked Dorian, a bit surprised. "Aren't you?" "You'll see, Darcy! But before we dress and get underway, let me say that I'm dazzled." Tears brimmed in Darcy's eyes as he replied, "I am too, Dorian! I'm amazed, drunk with love, drunk with life! WAOOOW!" ---------- "You two are the happiest looking pair of brothers I've ever seen!" exclaimed Monro as they entered the pub, "And I see you've brought your harp, Dorian." "That I did... and my bother's got his flute. If your grub's good enough tonight, we'll make the mice in your lousy dump dance!" "Take a seat! The first pint's on the house!" The food was excellent. Other friends came in, one with his guitar, another with his accordion, a third with his fiddle. The ale flowed. The clients and mice danced late into the night. Dorian drove slowly, very, very slowly going home. Once inside, clothes flew everywhere. They peed all they could and hit the bed. Dizzily clinging on to each other, they fell dead asleep, their slurring lips locked in a kiss. ---------- Darcy was hired on a yearly basis with the same schedule as Dorian. He became a very appreciated member of the team. The work was easy and even at times, gratifying. They made love nearly every night and played music together at least three times a week, mostly at home, sometimes in the pub with their neighbours and friends. Together, they were making a good living. It was a good life. Trisha, Darcy and Dorian had a standing telephone appointment on Tuesday evenings. Mid November, she informed her brothers that their mother had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour and had totally lost her mind. She had, at the most, just a few months to live. "Do you think she'd recognise us, Trisha?" worriedly asked Darcy as Dorian listened with the phone speaker on. "I don't know... maybe... do you plan on coming?" eagerly asked Trisha. Dorian immediately said, "We have time off. We'll be there next week. How is Father taking it?" "He's become absent. I think he's beginning to realise that religion has ruined his life. He banished you, Dorian, then you ran away, Darcy, and I told him I didn't want to be married to live with Bill. Since Father was laid off work, he's mute as a clam and just sits around all day long, staring out the window or wandering aimlessly in one or the other of your empty rooms. It's pitiful. I'm sorry I didn't tell you both all of that before. I don't know why... I just didn't have the nerve. He's not the man he used to be." "How are you bearing this, Trisha?" asked Dorian. "I don't know... all I know is that my nerves are about shot. Sometimes I fear I can't last a minute more. Thank God I've got a good job at the school. The kids keep me going. So does Bill..." "We'll find a solution, Sis. Keep us posted! We love you. Hold on for another week and we'll be there. We'll make something happen, break the spell, and put some love and life back into all that mess." "Really?" Dorian and Darcy shouted together, "YES!" "I'll be waiting. Take care, you two... I guess you're lovebirds by now," jested Trisha. "How did you guess?" quipped back Darcy, laughing. "It's natural for the both of you, and I love you even more like that!" "We love us like that too!" continued Darcy as Dorian beamed. "Bye-bye, loves, be good," laughed Trisha. "You too, Sister, bye" ---------- Darcy and Dorian were both deeply touched by Trisha's call. Darcy was the first to speak. "Dorian, our music hides nothing about us. It says everything about how we feel, about how we believe, about its power to send love into the world." "And so?" "And so, when we go to Aberdeen, we'll go to the family house during church hours, sit close together on the sofa in the parlour and play our duets. We'll begin by filling the house with the music of our love. When Father comes in, he'll find us there. Either he'll kick us out, or he'll break down and welcome us back. Whatever he does, that's up to him, the music, and the will of the Lord. We can reserve a good restaurant in town. Then we'll force him to join Trisha and Bill, and maybe Mother, there for a family meal together. That way he'll be trapped and compelled to either wake up or...!" Dorian paced back and forth as he listened, obviously thinking very, very hard. "Or nothing! Darcy, you are a dreadfully cunning and clever young devil. Of course we must take him by surprise, lure him away from his territory, wake him up from his religious nightmare! If that doesn't work, nothing will -- and The MacKay Brothers Duo can do it for sure!" "Repeat what you've just said." "I said that you're cunning and..." "Not that! You said, MacKay Bothers Duo, didn't you?" "Yes, why?" "The MacKay Brothers Duo... That's what we are! While I'm delivering my ideas, here's another. I want us to give a concert. We can put together a pleasant program of classical and traditional pieces, not too long, not too 'cultural', if you see what I mean. We can invite the distillery, the friends from Munro's, have it announced on the local radio, etc. We could do it in our Community Hall just before Christmas." Dorian shrugged, "There's no way to slow you down! Sounds feasible, and even fun. I buy both ideas!" "How much are you paying?" "A full day off -- just you and I, in bed, together!" "For both ideas?" "Okay... two days" ---------- Hardly a word was spoken on their drive to Aberdeen. They were both a bit scared, but yet excited. They had a mission. Save their persecutor! At least that's how Dorian felt it. As for Darcy, he was really worried about seeing their mother on her death bed. "Dorian, you don't seem to be very affected about Mum..." "Death can perhaps be the best remedy to a fucked up life, and Father really fucked hers up." "Don't say that. It's not totally correct. When they made Trisha, then you, and finally me, I hope they did it because they loved each other." Dorian glanced at Darcy, "You can be so naive at times. As for our parents making love, I feel they did it more for lust and duty than for love. Didn't you learn that the church wants their members to multiply, according to the scriptures..." "Don't ruin my dreams, brother..." "Sorry... We do need dreams to survive, don't we?" "Didn't you have dreams?" asked Darcy, looking out the window at the fleeting landscape. "You were my dream." "Me? I don't understand." "When I was banished, you were the only person I missed, yearned for, thought and worried about. I only dreamt of you, and that dream kept me going, even if it had to last a lifetime -- but now you're here, riding back to Aberdeen with me. Reality in the long run is better than dreams, even if we're not aware of it." "And Mum dying... that's a hard reality." "We are all dying, Darcy, more or less slowly. At least, Mother won't suffer as she dies." "She loved you... perhaps, more than she loved me." "I still love her with all my heart and soul. That love won't die with her. But her death is a part of her life -- just like it's a part of everybody's." There was a long silence. Dorian noticed that Darcy was trying to stifle his tears. "Go ahead and cry, get it out of your system, release Mum's soul, Darcy. Let her go like she let you go... with love, for love's sake!" Dorian kept on driving. Darcy curled up in the car seat and silently wept as the miles fled behind. Then a short while later, he kissed Dorian in the neck, whispering, "Thanks, brother... Thanks a lot." Darcy fetched his flute on the back seat and began playing, improvising. His notes soared like swallows in a mid-summer's sky. They left the main road and entered the drabby outskirts of Aberdeen. A few minutes later, they checked in the little hotel they had reserved, collapsed on the bed, and cuddled until dinner time. That night, their bodies melded like in prayer to a distant, silent God. ---------- "Hello Trisha -- Yes, we slept well -- We have an appointment to see mother at nine thirty -- You say you left the key in the usual hiding place? -- Are you sure Father's going to church? -- Good -- The service is still at ten thirty? -- And we'll meet at one, with or without Father at The Shepherds Rest in Westhill? -- Perfect! Wish us all the best things you can! -- Love you too." Darcy came out of the en suite bathroom looking like a star, as usual. "Ready to go?" "Ready!" At nine thirty on the dot, they entered the hospital and were ushered to Mrs. MacKay's room. She looked serene, but obviously didn't recognise her sons. Darcy told her who they were. She smiled and then looked out the window. The nurse informed them that her mental state was deteriorating and that she recognised no one of her past, barely did she smile when she received the visit from her daughter. "You're right Dorian, she'd be better off dead. Let's give her a kiss and get out." At ten to eleven, they drove up to the MacKay's house. Dorian hesitated before getting out of the car. "You okay?" inquired Darcy. "I feel nothing. It's like this house had never existed for me." "Whereas it has existed a little too much for me. Grab your harp." When they entered the small parlour where they used to play years back, they were deeply moved. They followed their plan and sat together on the sofa. Dorian then asked, "Can you play what you were playing in the car?" "I was improvising, just playing what came to me on the moment..." "Well, do that now. I'll follow. Play what comes to you here, now... Our spirit still lingers here, I'm sure." Darcy nodded, raised the flute to his lips, and began. Immediately Dorian joined in as if they were reading the same score, but this time, the score was in their hearts. They had no idea of how long they had been playing when they heard, "What the hell is going on in here!" Angus MacKay appeared in the doorway. The brothers resumed their music, pouring as much love as possible into their improvisation. They must have looked like angels, sitting shoulder to shoulder on that small, used sofa in that small, smelly parlour, with their glorious music vibrating in the air. Stunned, Angus just stood there, his mouth agape. Both Darcy and Dorian looked at him as they played. Their father looked desperately fragile, his lips quivering as if they tried to utter something, with nothing coming out. The music continued, flowing like sunlight. Angus very slowly took a step, then two, a hint of a smile illuminating his pale face. His tired eyes seemed to plead for his sons to come into his outstretched arms. Darcy laid his flute aside and rose. Dorian followed suit. The silence was palpable, rich, indescribable. Darcy grabbed his Dad. Dorian grabbed both. Angus began to quake, as a light, hardly perceptible gasp seemed to be stuck in his chest. Darcy and Dorian held on to their Dad as tight as they could, their faces buried in his neck. Angus then exploded laughing. Darcy began to laugh too, then Dorian. Their laughter filled the house. Never had that house heard such an outburst of glee, of relief, of life -- and of forgiveness too. Beaming, Angus simply said, "Sons, could you play some more. You're damn good, the both of you, you know!" Darcy replied, "Yes, Dad, we know!" ---------- In the car going to the restaurant, Darcy and Dorian told their Dad what they did, how they lived, and that they were living in love together. "Do you mean, in homosexual incest?" exclaimed Angus, both scandalised and amused. "Exactly," replied Dorian, glancing aside at his father. "Well, now, that's something! I guess it's not too bad as long as it stays in the family..." Darcy guffawed on the back seat. "Are you going to banish us again?" inquired Dorian, smiling. "Bollocks! The ways of the Lord are mysterious. You're alive and we can see each other again. I'm not going to apologise to you two for the upbringing I gave you. I'm just going to say I was wrong." Darcy and Dorian listened. After a moment or so, Angus continued. "I've been doing a lot of thinking instead of praying lately. I looked back on a lot of things. I slowly realised that religion was ruining my life, your mother's, and probably yours. I can't do anything about it. That's how it was. So let it be. Then now... here you are. What the hell! You two are incestuous queers, my daughter's fucking out of wedlock with a fellow called Bill, and my wife's dying and I've missed you two so much I thought I was going to die. You have the right to be who you are. So does Trisha... For Jenifer, it's too late... So let it be. Now I don't give a damn how you fuck. You love each other. That's for sure. And I love you. There!" Silence reigned. Then they stopped in front of the restaurant, Angus asked, "Who's paying?" "You are, Dad!" replied Darcy. "Shit! Why not!" When Trisha saw them come in, she exclaimed to Bill, "Good God, look at how they're smiling!" Angus walked up, kissed his daughter, still in a state of semi-shock. Then he held out his hand to Bill saying, "Glad to finally meet you, young man... and by the way, you're paying for the meal! Ha!" During he lunch, the MacKays finally ironed out a lot of kinks in their rather stormy family story. It was a blessed moment. After dessert, on his way to the toilet, Dorian picked up the bill and was more than glad to pay it, even with a generous tip! Once outside, Bill told them to carry on together without him. Trisha, Darcy, and Dorian accompanied Angus home and they kept on talking together more that they ever had. Angus said he decided to change churches and go to worship with the Episcopals. "I hear they welcome gays," winked Angus, to his sons. "I'm still an atheist Dad, but Darcy and I'll go to church with you whenever we're here." smiled Dorian. Darcy nodded. "I can keep a room for you two boys, but that'll leave me with two rooms empty once you've moved in with Bill, Trisha." Darcy spoke up. "Dad, there's an organisation here that takes care of homeless kids that have been thrown out on the streets for being gay. Why don't you contact them? You could rent out the rooms to the organisation and offer a shelter to the kids, as well as some fatherly affection to boot..." "That's a lot to think about, boy. Thank you. I'll see what the Lord has to tell me. I don't promise anything, but... Who knows?" replied Angus. Dorian spoke up, "You've already made a giant step towards what Jesus taught. Take your time and let Him take over without being influenced by professional religionists." "I told you I'll THINK about it! Okay?" "Don't think Dad, feel what your heart has been trying to tell you for years!" quipped back Darcy. "And what do you say about all that, Trisha?" inquired Angus. "I love you, Dad." "Boys, why don't you check out of your hotel tomorrow and come here. I'll put the double bed in your old room, Dorian. You two are welcome to stay -- only if you play music for me!" "We have to be back on Skye Wednesday evening. Until then, we'll play all the music you want, Dad," exclaimed Darcy, snuggling up to Dorian. "And can you two help me carry my things to Bill's flat before you go?" asked Trisha. "Of course, Sis!" stated Dorian. ---------- Once back in their hotel room, Dorian stretched, sighed, and declared, "I'm totally exhausted!" "Me too, Dorian, and I've never felt so good. Mission accomplished!" As they cuddled in bed, Dorian whispered, "Darcy, don't you think you pushed things a little bit too far when you suggested that Dad take in banished gay boys?" Darcy whispered back in Dorian's ear, "I don't think I pushed things far enough!" Dorian sighed,"You'll always have the last word, adorable rascal..." "Are you really that exhausted?" hummed Darcy. "Not really..." ---------- Epilogue Their concert took place on Friday, December 20, 2019, in the Minginish Community Hall. For the first part of the evening, they played Bach's sonatas and after a brief intermission, they finished with a long improvisation. It was a smashing success. Dorian and Darcy, like the other workers at the distillery, wore black on February 1, 2020, date of the official departure of the United Kingdom from the European Union. Jenifer peacefully passed away on Valentine's Day. The covid lockdown was proclaimed March 20, 2020. Trisha and Bill helped Angus MacKay organise his shelter for gay homeless youth. Dorian and Darcy recorded, in the local radio, the soundtrack of a video showing the beauty of the Isle of Skye. It was broadcasted on BBC Scotland. The brothers regularly returned to Aberdeen. Angus loved having them talk with his 'lads'. On their last visit, Trisha was happy to announce that they would soon be uncles. Talisker Distillery became the exclusive sponsor of The MacKay Brothers Duo for a series of recorded improvisations while awaiting the possibility of a national and continental concert tour. ---------- "Dorian, it was hard for me to grow up without you, but all things considered, if you hadn't been banished, we wouldn't be here, happy like we are." "Banishment or blessing? Whatever... We're just us, brothers and lovers. That's reality." "And the rest is silence..." ---------- A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at .