By Lee Mariner

© 2003

The author's copyright, dated June 2003, and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force. All rights are reserved.

This story depicts homosexual acts, between brothers, and is intended for ADULT readers only. If you are not of legal age, in your locality, please leave.

The continued assistance of my friend, Dean, in editing and proofing this work and others I have written is greatly appreciated.

All of my stories can be found in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's under the pen name of Lee Mariner.

If any reader would wish to be notified of future episodes to this and/or any other story, please contact me at:

Chapter XIX

While Dalton locked the garage, I walked to the front of the house passing Dad's dark gray, sturdy, middle-class Oldsmobile '98 sedan.  The highly polished hood of the car mirrored the twinkling stars in the dark sky; and, as I glanced upward, I smiled to myself, noticing that their bedroom window was dark. "Gay or straight," I thought to myself, "most arguments end when people realize how silly the arguments were, and sex usually soothes things over."

"Mom and Dad must have gone straight to bed," Dalton said as he came up behind me. 

"It looks like they have," I said, still smiling inside, turning to look at him, "Mom might not have been as mad as Dad thought."

"I've seen her give Dad the cold shoulder after they have had an argument," he answered as we walked down the driveway.

"Gay people do the same thing, Dalt.  Gay or straight, people are people and sometimes have their feelings hurt in a disagreement.  Usually, it's something silly, and that is what makes it fun when they make up. Where do you want to walk to? Is there anyplace close?"  I asked, breathing in deeply, enjoying the solitude of the evening.

"The ladies' garden club fixed up a small place at the end of Martin's Lane, by the woods; not far. Mom asked Mr. Miller if he would donate a couple of benches for it.  He sent a couple of his men along with the benches, and they set them in concrete so no one would swipe them. Dad glued little signs on the backs showing that Miller's Hardware had furnished them."

"He did that so Mr. Miller could show it as a business expense, Dalt. It was nice of him, and I'm sure the ladies appreciated it," I said glancing at him walking beside me stride for stride.

The neighborhood park that Dalton and I walked to was small, only about twelve feet by twelve feet.  Boxwood hedges had been planted on three sides of the area, and the two benches that Mr. Miller had donated were set at angles in the corners formed by the hedges.  Between the benches a sugar maple tree had been planted, and its branches spread out into an almost impenetrable canopy.  Three-foot wide brick-edged flower beds had been built from the end of each bench to the sidewalk. The beds were filled with a variety of flowers; and a small circular flower bed, located in the center and filled with various kinds of iris, surrounded the inevitable concrete birdbath.  There was a street lamp across the street from the park, but its light did very little to penetrate the darkness beneath the tree. It was a secluded spot, and the ladies of the garden club probably did not think of its becoming an almost perfect hideaway for young lovers. 

"Dalton," I said, glancing at him and grinning, "you ever think about bringing a girl here for a little spooning?"

"Spooning!" he exclaimed, "you mean hugging and kissing? Yuck, that's the last thing I ever would do; Carl, kiss a girl,."

"You've never kissed a girl, Dalt?" I asked, sitting down.

"If you don't count Mom, I haven't; I never thought about it or wanted to," he answered as he sat down, turning to face me with one arm on the back rail of the bench, his left leg pulled up between us.

"What about the girl at the drive-in, Dalt, what's her name, Susie?  She looked like she had goo-goo eyes for you."

"Yeah, Susie,. She's hot for any boy she hasn't been to bed with. I guess I could make it with her, but she doesn't make me feel the way I do when I look at some of the hunky boys at school.  I get a hardon in class just thinking about making it with them," he sighed softly.  "I get horny as hell just thinking about sex with Tony Meachum; he is hot."

"So, you don't think you would like to try making it with Susie or some other girl?" I said , stretching my legs out and leaning against the bench backrest. 

"No, I wouldn't, Carl. Why do you keep saying that?  I didn't really know what I felt until........., well you know; we did it," he said hesitantly.

"What will you do if you join the marines?  There are lots of macho guys who talk about nothing but girls, and they go into great detail when they brag about some chick they balled.  They brag about how many times they screwed her, or how good it felt when she sucked their tool, stuff like that.  Men, especially young men, are just that way, Dalt, when they are alone with their buddies.  They want to make themselves look like tough, macho studs who can fuck any girl they want.  Most of it is bullshit, but that's just the way guys are, especially if they are in the military."

"That sounds just like some of the guys in school or down at the drive-in, Carl. They talk about different girls, and what they did with them. Some of them grab their crotch and make funny faces like just thinking about it was enough to get hardons. Some of them, like Billy Markham do; he's a senior and on the football team; and he's always with a different girl.  I wouldn't know what to do with a girl, Carl. Susie is always coming on to me, and I kid and play around with her, but that's as far as it goes.  I don't know what I'd do if she asked me to go to bed with her."

"You would do just about the same thing you do with a boy, except it's with a girl. Sex between boys and girls is sex; the only real difference is the equipment.  The hardest thing about having sex with a girl, when you would rather be with a boy, is trying to keep a hardon unless you are bi-sexual.  I've had sex with girls; and, when I did it, I was thinking about some hot guy that I would have rather been with than the girl. It only worked half-ass, I never could get a real hardon even though I tried to imagine her cunt was some guy's hot, tight asshole.  It really didn't make that much difference with a whore; she couldn't care less whether you screwed her with a hardon or not as long as she was being paid which is what she wanted."

"I don't understand that, Carl. How can a guy be gay and still want to go to bed with a girl.  I'm pretty sure that a guy's being bi-sexual means he goes both ways, but I don't know why he would want to do that.  I don't think I could do it. When Jeff and I had sex, I really liked the way he sucked me off but I really wanted to fuck his ass. I know that's not like screwing a girl, because I've heard guys talk about how sloppy and stinky a girl's pussy is."

"That's mostly just talk, Dalt.  Girls that don't keep themselves clean might be that way but it's just like boys that are not circumcised. If they don't wash under the foreskin, a secretion builds up; and it stinks. It's not very good personal hygiene to let it happen.  You don't have to worry about it since Mom and Dad had you circumcised when you were a baby. As far as being a guy who sleeps on both sides of the sheets, I don't really know much.  I have heard that some guys hide being gay by getting married and having kids.  I guess they have to satisfy their gay urges, and that is when they go to bed with a man.  I've always thought it would be kind of hard to do, but I guess it's not much harder than gay guys hiding being gay.  The big difference is that they are married, and no one thinks about them going to bed with a man. On the other hand, guys who are completely gay have to act as if they were not gay, kid around with girls whom they work with or know, and make up stories of their own; so that people don't think that they are gay." 

"I can understand that, Carl. After summer vacation, all of the guys will be telling stories about girls they met and what they did.  I never thought that much about it when I was younger; but I guess I'll have to do the same thing, at least until I get out of Richmond.
"You will be doing it all of your life, Dalt, especially if you join the marines.  It's like a game we have to play if we don't want to be hassled about liking men and not girls.  You will learn how to pick up on what the others are bragging about and use it; so that you seem to be as straight and macho as they are, or think they are. You reverse the roles; and, instead of talking about a boy you went to bed with, you describe what you did with him as if you were with a girl. You say stuff like, "boy, this bitch I met when I was at Lake Gaston was hot; and, after I fucked her, she sucked my cock," and leave it at that. Don't try to get fancy with a lot of details; or the other guys will think you're a big bullshiter; even though that's what you want them to think.  You'll learn a lot about the game if you just listen and don't try to top what anyone else is bragging about, Dalt. I learned from a navy chief I knew, that the less you say; the better off you will be in the long run.  Men don't brag; boys do;  and you can always pick out the phony ones that brag too much.."

"Jesus, Carl, you've done all of this stuff?"

"Pretty much, but you have to be careful about who you meet and what you say. There are a lot of good looking guys who only want one thing when they see some guy who is young and attractive, his body. You will never be completely safe; so even though you see a guy that you like and who seems to like you, be careful not to let your hormones take over for your brain. Some guys can really mess you up with rough stuff, Dalt. Such guys like to show how tough they are and make their sexual partners do things the partners don't want to do, and never would do. Gay guys are pretty much loners until they meet someone they really like," I said thinking about Jerry, "then they are sort of married and live together. We all want someone in our lives, Dalt, it's only natural to want to be with someone we love."

We sat quietly for a few minutes and I could see by his silence that Dalton was thinking.  Even in the dark, I could feel the magnetism between us.  I had stopped short of telling him that I had found the one I wanted to live with.  As much as I wanted to say it, I didn't feel he was ready for it, not yet.  I knew he loved me because he was my kid brother and had told me he did, but that was different from telling me that he wanted to be only with me for the rest of his life.

"Now you're scaring me, Carl," he said, moving a little closer.  "Have you ever met anyone like that?"

"No, Dalton, I haven't." I responded, laughing lightly. "I've seen some guys wearing leather and chains and looking like they are mad at the world, but that does not mean they would hurt anyone.  Hell, if you were to meet one of these guys and were to go to bed  with him, he might be a pussy and throw his legs up in the air; or he might be a devil on wheels. Gay or straight, Dalt, it takes all kinds, and it takes good common sense to be sure of what you want and with whom.  I'm not trying to scare you, kid, but I just want you to be careful, that's all. Hopefully, we've got a lot of life ahead of us, and getting sick with a disease or spending part of it in a hospital does not have to be a part of it." 

We were talking so intently that neither one of us saw or heard the police car drive up to the curb until a voice called out gruffly, "what the hell are you doing in the park this late at night?" followed by a bright spot light being turned on us. 

Dalton turned as if to jump up, but I grabbed his forearm and held him down, whispering,  "easy, Dalt, we aren't doing anything wrong," before I answered.  "We were out walking and decided to sit and talk for awhile, officer. Are we breaking a curfew or is this park off limits at night?"

"Can't say just yet," he said, turning off the spotlight and turning on his flashlight as he walked towards us. "I can guess that you aren't under sixteen, but what about the young lad with you? You grabbed his arm pretty quickly, like he was going to run when I hit you with the spot. You weren't intending to do something you shouldn't, were you?"

"There it is," I thought to myself, "a homophobic cop throwing his weight around." I had to curb a flash of anger before answering without being insolent.  "No, officer, my brother was not getting ready to run, you startled both of us when you turned on your spot light."

"Your brother, huh, I guess your going to tell me your brother is over sixteen." he said with a hint of sarcasm, still suspicious."

"I'm almost seventeen, officer; here, I can prove it," Dalton said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and producing his driver's license.

The officer checked Dalton's license, comparing the picture with him before handing it back. While he was checking Dalton's license, I pulled my navy identification card from my wallet; and, when he turned to me, I handed it to him.

"Navy," he said, checking my picture like he had Dalton's. "What's your address, sailor?"

"My home address or my navy address, sir?" I said quietly, unable to resist the slight dig.

"Your home address will do fine," he said, focusing his light on my face.

"2727 Cedar Rd., you can check it against my brother's driver's license," I said, getting a little tired of his attitude.

He stood over us, moving his flashlight back and forth between us as he checked our identification. I couldn't help but notice that he checked our crotches as he stood there, moving his light around; and I was about to lose my patience, when he handed the cards back to us and lowered his light.

"No need to get testy young fella; I'm just doing my job.  We've been getting calls from the residents of this neighborhood reporting young kids using this place for petting and stuff.  I wish the city council had never told the ladies they could build the damn thing; but they did; and we have to check it out," he said a little more politely.

"I guess you have to do it, officer," I said, breathing in deeply and trying for it not to be obvious that I was controlling the anger that was building inside of me at the high-handed way he had treated us.

"Well, everything seems to be in order, sorry for the trouble," he said before turning to leave.

"No trouble, officer; we were just about to leave when you drove up," I answered.

"No need to leave on my account, but it is after mid-night," he said as he opened his car door.  "Kind of late to be out walking, even in this neighborhood."

"Yes,sir," I said, still angry and watching as he wrote something on a pad before driving away.

I watched the tail lights of the police car fading in the distance before I turned to, Dalton. He sat hunched over looking down at the ground and when I touched his shoulder, he didn't look up.

"Dalton, are you okay? It was only a cop; and we weren't doing anything wrong; or he would have pulled us in."

"I know he was only a cop, Carlie, but it scared the shit out of me. I've never had a cop look at me and ask me questions like that. I could tell he thought we were a couple of faggots."

"Dalton," I said, taking his hands in mine, "he may have thought it, but that's all.  It's one of the curses, if you want to call it that, of being gay.  You are going to have to get used to it and realize that in society's eyes, we are something dirty; something to be hated and avoided.  You know that you avoid looking at some guys, even though you want to?  They might see you looking and grin, or they might turn away. You, like most of us, will look away for fear  that if they think you are checking them out they might not like it, and you're afraid they will think you are gay.  There is an inner defense mechanism that tells you that you are different, but that you don't want anyone knowing you are; and that provides the mind ways to help you avoid showing that you are different.  Dalton, there is nothing wrong about being gay, and you should never feel ashamed. Don't put a big sign on your chest proclaiming that you're gay, but don't be ashamed of being different in that one respect only. You, me, all of us are just as good as anyone else; and, until people realize that, we have to be extra careful of whom we associate with."

"You make it sound simple Carlie," he said softly.

"Nothing in life is simple, Dalt," I sighed, standing up and pulling him up with me. "What I am trying to say is don't panic every time someone looks at you differently from how you think they should. Don't get smart mouthed and arrogant about it, just be yourself; and, remember one thing, that person looking at you is more afraid of you than you should be of them. You'll learn, Dalt, it just takes time. Come on;, we better be getting on home, or we will be sitting here talking when the sun comes up."

"I like talking with you, Carl, you make sense and I can understand what you are saying," he said, putting his arms around me and laying his head on my chest.

"You'll be all right, kid," I said to myself as I hugged him tightly to me.

We didn't talk much on the way back to the house.  Dalton asked a few questions about what we were going to do at the cottage, but mostly he was quiet.  The stars were still twinkling,  and a half moon had risen in the west and was slowly moving across the sky. We snuck into the house trying to be quiet and not wake Mom and Dad, but I had the feeling that mother, at least, was not asleep.  Most mother's are like that; they don't sleep until they are sure their kids are safe inside.

We tiptoed down the steps to the basement and went to Dalton's room without turning on the overhead light.  The faint glow of his night light guided us through the darkness to the door.  I went on into the bathroom to take a leak while Dalton undressed.  He joined me to take a piss buck-naked, the soft yellow night light giving his skin a golden glow.  He glanced up at me with his soft dark brown eyes, and the urge to take him in my arms swelled up inside of me, but instead I asked him, "you want to take a shower now or wait until in the morning?"

"In the morning, Carl, I'm kind of tired.  It's been a long day for both of us."

"Yeah, it has been, hasn't it?" I said softly, chucking him under the chin.

We both brushed our teeth before going back into the bedroom, and Dalton slid into the bed while I undressed. I could see his eyes watching every move I made as I folded my clothes and placed them on top of my open suitcase. Getting in bed, I pulled the sheet over us and turned towards him; he moved closer; and, laying his head on my arm, he put his arm over my chest pulling us closer together.

His warm body molded to mine, and we lay hip to hip, soft cock to soft cock. I could feel our hearts beating in unison and the sensation of feeling his chest rising and falling as he breathed sent warm feelings flowing through me.  Neither of us said anything; we just held each other lost in our own thoughts until Dalton whispered softly, "Carlie, do you love me as much as I love you?"

"Do I love you as much as you love me? Let's put it this way, I love Mom and Dad; but I love my kid brother more," I whispered, feeling a lump growing in my throat. 

"That's pretty much," he answered softly, his answer drifting off.

"Yeah, that's pretty much," I thought to myself, feeling drowsy, "pretty much."

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