Date: Wed, 19 Feb 2014 08:28:24 -0700 From: Durriken Homewood Subject: Beneath the Sycamore, Chapter 4 Beneath the Sycamore Chapter 4 (C) 2014 Durriken Homewood All Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without author's permission. The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display this work. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are a product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously. Remember to show your love: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html (Please note that, due to some excellent feedback I received from my fantastic readers, I have decided to rewrite this chapter and continue the story. Thank you for your support!) -Chapter 4- In the dark spaces of the soul, where light fears to go and shadows wander under their own will, motivated by their own desires, the darkest of secrets can be kept, nurtured, imprisoned, starved; a garden of the damned atop the delights of paradise. Aaron found himself moseying through the orchards of that place with closed eyes and a mug of coffee cooling on the counter nearby. The tree that was the secret word, Thespian, should have born no fruit. Now, he was up to his eyeballs with it, bright bruise colored bushels of bumpy balls that deserved to rot away to the no-place of buried confidences. Damn Luke! Damn him for remembering and double-damn him for interrupting what was turning out to be a pretty good day. With only a minimum amount of effort, the feeling of Jeremy's lips kissing his cock, slurping up his hot, fresh from the nut cum, could be conjured up as one of a dozen other reasons he ought to go downstairs and throttle his friend. Damn it! "Aaron?" Jeremy's voice, so sweet and brilliant, was a beacon of light guiding him from the dark garden and back into the kitchen. He stood at the top of the stairs, an empty laundry basket hanging down his side while the washer hissed a cleansing melody up the passage behind him. Luke's presence in the house had turned the boy toward timid, but his gaze lingered on Aaron's crotch without fear or shame, two hot beams setting Aaron's juices a'percolating. God, he was so fucking sexy! In all the years that they had been just brothers, Aaron had missed the potential of his beauty, the grace of his form. He might never have known the brush of his skin, the tantalizing mystery of his flesh, were it not for that accident beneath the sycamore. "What's up, bro?" He shuffled forward, dragging his feet across the floor, looking uncomfortable under the weight of his thoughts. "I...I think Luke is crying," he said, pulling up between Aaron's knees and parking there. He slipped his fingers beneath the pajama bottoms, knuckles brushing against his bush. "Is he okay?" No, he wasn't. The idiot was lucky to be alive and, by the look of him at the front door, had just managed to escape. Slipping his arms around his little brother, he pulled him in for a delicate, assuring kiss. "He'll be fine," he answered. "Probably just a little heart broken. You remember what it was like for me when Heidi left; I was a wreck. He's going through the same sort of thing." "That sucks," Jeremy said, showing his age and inexperience in the words. "I'm glad I don't have to worry about that." "Why not?" Jeremy looked up, his expression unreadable. Behind his blue-green eyes, though, a private thought flashed and then receded into the darkness, a new seed for his little brother's garden. Seeing it stirred a twinge of jealousy. If he couldn't share his mind with Aaron, who would he share it with? A cold, desolate canyon opened up in him, blowing hard reality out of the void and whipping the icy answer like a December gust against his naked body: His boyfriend. One day, Jeremy would find someone, fall in love, and tumble from Aaron's arms into someone else's. That he would have to let it happen, without a fight, made the realization all the more painful. The pain must have showed on his face because Jeremy delivered the next kiss, a comforting, healing medicine that warmed him from the inside and capped the wound that had appeared. "So, I was thinking," Jeremy said, switching topics, "about how we're...doing stuff together and I was...I was wondering if maybe we could...do more?" Aaron grinned at him, thoughts flying to an unknown moment in time when he would bury his cock deep into his brother's body, listening to the noises of delight that he would make under Aaron's skilled loving. "Like what?" Jeremy blushed, smiling. "You know...stuff." "Sorry, bro, I'm just not as smart as you," Aaron teased. "You'll have to spell it out for me." He turned an even deeper shade of red, leaning in close enough that his torso pressed up against Aaron's crotch. "Sex stuff," he whispered. It was so adorable, watching him try to grow out of his naivety, oblivious to how his innocence turned Aaron on. He licked his little brother's neck, tasting the bitter heat of his libido on the smooth skin beneath his jaw. "You want me to fuck you, little brother?" Aaron breathed, dropping his voice to a low, husky rumble. "Yeah." "You want me to ride your tight little ass?" Jeremy shuddered, swallowing hard as he nodded. He remembered the conversation in Jeremy's bedroom, what he had revealed, and followed his instincts. "You want me to use you, bro? Make you my cumrag?" The youth melted against him, nude chest gliding along Aaron's skin, so smooth and creamy. His fingers had bunched up the pajama bottoms, lifting the hem above Aaron's ankles as he gathered the material, leaning into Aaron to press his younger cock between his big brother's spreading legs. A memory blurred across Aaron's mind's eye, triggered by the pressure of Jeremy's boner against the sensitive strip of skin between his balls and asshole. He was on his back, arms stretched above his head, bound by cuffs anchored at the bed posts. A leather collar had been fixed around his neck, his ankles lifted and strapped into stirrups hanging from above. Heidi reclined alongside him, her hand curled around a thin chain that linked his collar to the one worn by the man between his legs, his face close enough to feel his breath on his lips. He had been hesitant to allow this, not because he would be the receptive partner--Heidi liked fucking him with a strap-on whenever she took the Domme role--but because of who would be doing the penetrating. "It's part of being his Sponsor," Heidi had cooed. "He has to know he can trust you to be there for him when he needs you. I'll even let you break him in once he's done. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Luke?" The sound of feet thumping up the stairs drew him out of the memory the same instant that Jeremy separated from him. His little brother rounded the counter to block his teen wood from view when Luke appeared. Jeremy was right; he had been crying, and hard too by the look of him. His eyes were red and puffy, face drawn and streaked by tears. He had kicked off his single shoe and pulled on a hooded sweatshirt from Jeremy's wardrobe, hugging it and himself to his chest. "I can't get your coffee pot to work," he mumbled, hanging in the doorway leading downstairs with a cloud of defeated misery clinging to him. A mug was settled onto the counter, Jeremy's delicate hand sliding across the surface of it as though to tease Aaron. "I'm gonna hang out in my room," he said. "Thanks, bro." When he had gone, Luke dropped boneless onto the barstool beside him, reaching across to pour himself a cup of the steamy, black brew. As he did, the red friction burn around his neck became more prominent, catching Aaron's attention and forcing him to see the other marks: the yellowing bruises around his throat, a discoloration beneath his cheek, a glistening split on his lower lip. The sight stirred up angry bile that burned the back of Aaron's tongue; that he forced himself to swallow down again. Luke liked the rougher play, and had no doubt brought this on himself, though he at least knew when it had gone too far. "Was it Katie?" Aaron asked, staring into his coffee. Luke sniffled. From the periphery of his vision, Aaron watched him shake his head, saw his hands trembling around the mug. There were bruises on his knuckles, swelling on the flat backs of his fingers, opening up a different possibility--that he had been in some sort of fight. The anger felt justified now. Aaron swiveled toward him, his knee brushing against Luke's thigh, who twitched away from the contact. He lifted his gaze, looking to Aaron from the corner of his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to confirm his suspicion that Luke had, in fact, been brawling, the door chimed again, followed by a loud pounding. Luke froze, fear etched across his features. "Aaron! Open the fucking door!" Luke's father hollered from the other side. His friend tumbled out of the barstool, backing away from the sound at the front of the house. "Hide! My room!" he whispered to Luke, standing. Jeremy, summoned by the angry noises, flew into the kitchen, putting Aaron between himself and the front door. "What's going on?" "Chill, bro," Aaron said. "I got it." He left Jeremy in the kitchen, making his way to the door. "Mr. Sanders?" "Open the god damned door!" the man called out in reply. "I know that little freak is in there." "Mr. Sanders, Luke isn't here." "Bullshit! Let me in!" Jeremy appeared behind him, holding the land-line out to him. "Mr. Sanders," he warned, "If you don't leave, I'm calling the cops." There was one final thud against the door, followed shortly thereafter by a car door slamming and the squeal of tires against the road. "Should we still call the cops?" Aaron turned away from the door, realized he was shaking, adrenaline pumping through his fluttering heart. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down, and pulling his little brother against him in a protective hug. The boy wasn't even a little frightened, suffering Aaron's embrace for a short while before squirming away. "No," Aaron answered. "Call Mom and Dad, though, and tell them Luke will be here for a while. Tell them about his dad." "They're gonna freak out," Jeremy countered. "They'll wanna come home." He heard the implication in the statement, that if they came home, their affair would be ended. Brushing his fingers through Jeremy's fluffy hair in assurance, he replied, "They won't, though. They're too devoted to this business thing. Even if they did come back, you'll still be my little cumrag." Jeremy colored, and started dialing. A few moments later, Aaron was at his bedroom door, the rush-thrum of the washer nearby an irony of domestic sound against the excitement of recent events. He tried the doorknob, found it locked. "Luke, it's me," he called through the barrier. "He's gone." On the other side, he heard his friend move off of his bed, unlock the door. He pulled it open, ashen faced and with eyes darting around the space behind Aaron as though his Father would pop out at any instant and drag him away. "You're sure he's gone?" "He's gone," Aaron promised. Luke moved aside to let him pass, closing and locking the door again behind him. Aaron flipped on the light switch. A soft purple-blue glow lit up the sprawling space. Before Aaron had taken it over and turned it into his bedroom, the place had been designed to function as an entertainment room, with a built in bar that he now used to keep his snacks with his malfunctioning coffee pot serving as the centerpiece. Low to the ground, his bed sat opposite the door, the covers speckled with lint caught beneath the black light he used in place of the fluorescent tubes that had been there originally. A couple of torchiere lamps stood on either side of his desk, serving as regular lighting when he needed it for homework or reading. Though there was no television, he kept a futon where one might have been if there were, facing a candle heavy table with a pair of throne-like chairs flanking it. the place was spacious, serving his as more than somewhere to sleep, fuck and jerk off. It was his private sanctuary; a playground of pleasure. "I'm sorry," Luke said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I didn't know where else to go." The irritation he had first felt toward his friend for arriving while he was busy with Jeremy drained away beneath a deeper concern and affection. He sunk onto the bed beside him, laying a hand over Luke's knee to give him a supportive squeeze. "don't worry about it," he replied. "I'll always be here for you, man." Luke leaned against him, resting his head on Aaron's shoulder. The scent of him, spicy sweat under a layer of warm, buttery earth and something akin to sugared walnuts, drove into Aaron's awareness, triggering another memory. Much as they were now, he and Luke were alone in Aaron's room. Aaron had just pulled the blanket over his shoulders, staving off the winter chill weeping through the basement walls, condom covered cock buried to the root in Luke's incredible heat, his tight orifice clinging to him in a vice-like grip. Upstairs, his parents were ringing in the New Year with a houseful of other guests, the champagne they had shared with Aaron swirling around his fuzzy brain. There were no collars, no cuffs, no coercion. Just the two of them, perhaps a little tipsy, but in charge of their faculties and enjoying themselves, and each other. "How long will Heidi be gone?" Luke had asked, sliding his fingers through Aaron's hair and then pulling him in for a deep kiss, encouraging him to start up his thrusting again. "Next week," Aaron answered, pumping his hips, building himself up to a slow, smooth rhythm that gave him greater control over the trajectory of his cock, allowing him to target Luke's prostate with each inward push. "Her parents are checking out that place, seeing if they really want to move there." "Do you...ungh...think they will?": Aaron reward his grunt by picking up the pace, lengthening his strokes. "She said she doesn't think they will." The conversation had fallen away at that point; the only sounds Luke could get out being guttural, primal urges, begging Aaron to fuck him harder, faster, deeper. But as Aaron neared his climax, teeth chewing on Luke's neck to muffle his own moans lest they attract his family, Luke did manage one final coherent statement. "I...love...you..." And Aaron, caught up in the throes of ecstasy, had responded in kind. The words tickled in memory against the back of his throat now, begging to spill over into Luke's hair. He cleared his throat of them, shrugging his friend off of his shoulder. Luke took the hint, sitting up under his own power. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" "He caught me," Luke answered. "Well, he caught me us, I just wasn't quick enough getting my pants on." "You and Katie?" Luke gave him a caustic, side-long glance, and then lay back on the bed. "Katie and I haven't been together since spring break." "So, who was it?" "Some guy I met at the mall. He thought my collar was hot. If I had known Dad had forgotten his phone, I wouldn't have brought him home." He raised his hand, considered his knuckles. "I got in a couple of shots, though," he added. "Knocked him out too. I guess that cat's out of the bag now. He knows I like dick, which means Mom will know soon enough and off I'll go to Straight Camp." "Just...just tell 'em you're bi," Aaron suggested. "Tell 'em it was the first time and that you're into girls now." Luke shook his head. "I'm done hiding, Aaron. You taught me that a slave is always truthful, that I shouldn't be ashamed of myself. That's why I agreed to join the...why I agreed to it." He caught Aaron's gaze, holding it. "I wish it had been you." The part of himself that was in charge of such things, told Aaron that he should be surprised. He wasn't. Deep, deep down, he had known about Luke; had seen the hurt in his eyes whenever he hugged Heidi or carried on about her. Subtle awareness and instinctive suspicion were not the same as open admission, though. "I know you're into girls," Luke continued, looking away. "I just...well, you're my Sponsor, right? You should know these things so that I can be a better slave." Girls. Teasing, trampy vixens that tortured and titillated but never made good on their promises. They weren't the effort anymore, especially when he had Jeremy nearby, begging him for all that he had to give. But the icy chasm opened up again, reminding him that Jeremy would not always be there to answer his needs. Jeremy was young and inexperienced. He was hot to trot now, but what about later? And, even if he could keep up with Aaron's voracious sex-drive, they were brothers. That preexisting relationship had to be preserved for familial concord. He fit into the hole that Heidi had left in his life, but that hole was bigger now. Sighing, he fell back, looked to his friend. Luke was a handsome young man; a real beauty of masculinity even when he was mewling like a girl. "You know how horny I am," he said, turning his attention to the ceiling. Luke laughed. "You're a fucking sex-fiend, dude." "And I'm not going to beat the shit out of you. I'm not into that." "Got it." He could hear the smile in his voice, confirmed it an instant later. "And," he added, rolling onto his side, "I don't want to hear any of that silly faggot nonsense about being life partners, or that you don't do something now that you used to do, just because you're gay. We're boyfriends, and we're the same people we were before." "We can cuddle, though, right?" There was genuine need in the question. Aaron answered it by laying an arm across his chest, pulling Luke to spoon against him when he turned onto his side. "I love you, Aaron." "I know, babe," he answered, pressing his lips to the back of Luke's head, holding him close. It was New Year's all over again, but with clothes between them. "I love you too." ---- Thank you all for your feedback! I welcome your comments, and look forward to hearing from you. Drop me a line at rainbowshadows@gmail.com.