Date: Sun, 26 Jul 2009 17:40:04 -0700 (PDT) From: Tim Connors Subject: Six Irish Brothers - Chapter 10 Six Irish Brothers - Chapter 10: The Merry, Mad Month of May, Part II Story Codes: B/b, T/b, inc Disclaimer and Acknowledgments: The story you are about to read is true. These events happened and though some details have been skewed slightly to obscure the identities of the real persons involved, the events, relationships and substance of the tale have not been altered. Much of the material in this story is pornographic in nature, dealing with incest, teenage and preteen sex, gay themes, and so forth. If you are under 18, or it is illegal in your area to read this material, or if offends you, then stop now, and go Google something wholesome. Introduction: I'm sorry that it took this long to get this out, everyone. I had about four times this much written, and lost most of the rest of it in a hard drive crash a few months back. I've got a fair bit of it reconstructed, though, so chapter 11 *will* be along very shortly, I just have a little bit more to write in it. I thought about putting it all together in one, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. So, without further ado, here's this chapter. I hope you continue to enjoy these tales of my childhood with my brothers. -------- Chapter 10: The Merry, Mad Month of May, Part II May 1996 I remember morning came far too early on the day after Walter, Texas Ranger and his trusty steed Fintan crashed through the OK Screen Door and we all wound up in the Wild Wet. I awoke in Sean's bed, feeling the empty spot where he'd been snuggled against me through the night. I heard soft breathing coming from across the room, and opened my eyes. When the daylight flashed in, I groaned and for the first time in my life (but not the last) I briefly thought that orgasms were like alcohol: the more you had, the bigger the hangover when you woke up. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes again, and the spots disappeared. The source of the breathing was Ben and Drew, arms draped over each other in Ben's bed. I found myself smiling as I walked to the dresser and put on a pair of boxers. The waistband hit my belly with a satisfying snap, and Ben muttered something in his sleep. It was only then that I realized I'd put on *his* boxers. 'Oh, well,' I thought, watching them snooze. Then the smell of eggs and bacon drifted into the room, and a moment later, Sean came through the door. He was wearing his standard morning attire: red basketball shorts and a blue tank top. What I always thought of as his Superman colors. "Goooooooood morning, Eeyore!" he said, riffing Robin Williams. He gave me a side hug, and kissed the top of my head. "Let's get these two up." We each grabbed a corner of Ben's bedspread and yanked it off, exposing the two entangled, naked boys. Ben and Drew stirred abruptly awake, and I caught glimpses of morning wood as they sat up groggily. "Come on, spuds," Sean said, clapping his hands. "There's a Full Irish to be eaten before school. Unless you want those little leprechauns to finish it all." Nathan and Walt both ate like starving lions at an all-you-can-eat antelope buffet. Drew just grunted while Ben rubbed his eyes. The first words Ben said when he looked up were, "Are those my shorts?" He nodded, answering himself, and then sighed as he stood. "Whatever. Toppa', mates." He and I each took one of Drew's arms, and pulled our still-sleepy friend to his feet. "G'morning," Drew muttered. "Benji, where's my clothes?" Ben shook his head and prodded Drew in the direction of the bathroom, and the thought of hangovers came back into my head. While they relieved themselves -- 'one way or another,' I thought -- I finished dressing, and followed Sean back to the kitchen. The microwave clock said it was almost 8 and I winced. I sat and ate, ruffling Nate's hair and Walt's while they munched away, and Sean helped Adam with his breakfast. Ben and Drew joined us a few minutes later, still only half dressed. They were grinning, and I nearly burst out laughing when I realized Ben was wearing Drew's underwear and Drew was wearing mine. Sean saw too, and we all shared an amused look. We ate more or less silently, glances and slight gestures saying what we couldn't in the presence of the wee ones. Sean was staying home with Adam -- all his teachers knew our situation and made allowances when Greg was out of town -- but the rest of us still had to go school, though Walt and Nate wouldn't have to leave for another hour. I really missed the days of homeschooling, which we did when we were traveling for long stretches. I always hated it when we came home for long enough that we made the switch back to "regular" school. I liked most of my teachers that term, though, so it wasn't too bad. We finished breakfast and Ben and Drew ran back for the rest of their gear. "Coolness," I muttered sarcastically as I slung my own pack over my shoulders. Sean ushered us to the door, and the four of us all shared a bemused look, remembering the night before. My hand brushed his as I followed Ben and Drew on our way to the bus stop. I watched them silently while we waited at the corner. They talked about Sonic the Hedgehog and baseball and basketball, practically oblivious to my presence. Again I sensed the growing closeness between them, and found I was now glad for it. When the bus came, I got up behind them. "Try not to look like you're going steady, mates," I said, meaning it to be funny. Drew blushed and Ben rolled his eyes. "Ah, step off, you git," he muttered, but I heard the smile in his voice. The rest of that day remains a blur to me now. Nothing really eventful happened. It was middle school, after all. I do remember we stayed behind to watch Drew's basketball practice, and took the last bus. By the time we got home, Nathan and Walt were already there. Sean had gone to Home Depot earlier, and had taken Adam with him. Now the little guy was napping, the back door was fixed and all evidence of Wally's wave of destruction was gone. Homework was light again, and we all put it off. Ben and Drew went to play with Walt and Nate while Sean and I debated what to do for dinner, interspersed with oblique conversation about yesterday's activities. We'd decided that if push came to shove, Sean would tell Greg about Walt's wild ride on Fintan, but that everything else would remain out of the picture. Ben and Drew wouldn't say anything, of course, and Walt had already forgotten it all. The only question mark was Nathan. We still hadn't come to any conclusions on that, or dinner, when the phone rang. Sean glanced at the caller ID and picked up. "Connors' House of Horrors," he said, "Young Frankenstein speaking." It was Ellie DelVecchio, Drew's mother. She was used to Sean's sense of humour, thankfully. Yes, Drew was behaving, he told her, and yes, the boys were having fun. "Dinner?" he said, cocking an eyebrow at me and nodding in the vague direction of "Chez DelVecchio." I nodded enthusiastically, and Sean agreed. They settled on 7:30 and Sean put the phone down. It would put Ellie at ease about us being well-fed while Greg was gone. She tended to play mother hen a little, afraid that we'd revert to "Lord of the Flies" savagery if we didn't have some maternal input from time to time. As I'd suspected, dinner turned out to be pizza, burgers and hot dogs. When you had a family of eight kids with number nine on the way, and you invited the six boys from down the block to dinner, quick and cheap were the key motivating factors. Fortunately, with our friends the DeeVees, good taste, and good times, were never in doubt. Sizes and shapes sometimes were, though. What we'd come to call "DelVecchio pizza" was usually square or rectangular, either deep dish or thin crust, thanks to using brownie pans and cookie sheets. The kids made it themselves, and it was a ritual we looked forward to. When we got there, we could smell the pizzas already in the oven, and saw Drew's dad, Vince, working the grill on the patio. As he turned the meat, he kept glancing at the overcast sky, expecting it to rain even though this last storm was supposed to blow over without a major deluge. Sean went to talk with him, while the rest of us went through the patio doors into the DeeVees' large, welcoming family room. Ellie greeted us, and took Adam from my arms. She rocked him a moment and he smiled happily. "Hi," he said, and I marveled. While Adam had started talking months ago, he did so only rarely. Each discernable word was a revelation. Ellie carried Adam over to the far corner of the great room, where twins Aaron and Amanda were playing in a large area "fenced off" with baby gates. She put him down, and he instantly started browsing through a pile of blocks with the two other tykes. They'd been crib buddies with him practically since the day we came to the States, and accepted his sudden presence as if he'd always been there. While we waited for dinner, most of us -- well, those out of diapers but not yet in high school -- played games. I don't remember exactly what we did, except for an image of Nate playing Connect Four with Frank (alias Saint). And I also remember that Sean went for a walk with the two oldest DelVecchios, TJ and Sarah, his best friend and girlfriend, respectively. After dinner, we hung out for a while and ate ice cream with peanut butter and chocolate sauce. Peanut butter was still a relatively new thing (it's not a staple in Ireland), and it was something all six of us had come to love. I remember when I discovered Reese's Peanut Butter Cups for the first time, it was practically orgasmic. But I digress... When the youngest members of the brood started showing signs of sleepiness, we made our way back home sometime after nine-thirty. As we left, Sean gave Sarah a quick kiss goodnight and shared a bro-hug with TJ. Ben and I gave Saint and Drew high fives, and shared a wink when he said he "had fun sleeping over last night." With hugs from Ellie and Vince, the six of us went home, and the three little pigs went wee wee wee all the way to bed. Sean, Ben and I got our pajamas on, and then had some hot cocoa. We were exhausted, too, but not yet sleepy. Each of us, in our own way, was something of an introvert or loner, and though we loved the DelVecchios dearly, big get-togethers with everyone were often draining. It affected me more than either Ben or Sean, but it still got to them at least a little. And so for a while, the three of us sat in the family room, in companionable silence. It looked like the rain was finally passing us by, but the night was still chilly. Sean lit the fire, and settled back on the love seat. Pretty soon, Ben and I had squeezed in on either side, and his arms were around us. We sat and watched the fire, and talked softly about school, about little league, about Greg, about Drew and what we had done and if he was doing anything with his siblings. We talked like that until our eyes grew heavy. Ben fell asleep first, and Sean and I followed soon after. Two days later, Greg was back from his business trip. I remember now that he'd been in Chicago at least part of the time, because he brought back a Cubs cap for Benji's birthday, which was May 20th. He showed it to me and Sean, and then tucked it away somewhere safe. Life returned to what passed for normal around our home, except that just as Greg's departure had heralded the rains we'd experienced, his returned heralded a heat wave. By the time 20 May came around, we were in the thick of it. The day that Ben turned 13 was the hottest of the year, at least as far as I can remember. It was close to a hundred degrees. Even so, it was a special day for all of us. It wasn't like Ben had never been to a birthday party, or had one of his own, but this was different. We'd managed to have a couple parties for him in the old days, but now that he was with us for good, we had so much to celebrate. Still, it was a Monday, and school was hell for us to get through. Lunch was another matter, though. Ben and I were sitting at the table, both feeling rather fidgety, which was no different than usual for Ben, but a little different for me. He'd finished his chocolate milk and was playing with the straw; I could tell he was about to pelt me with his patented chocolate spitball. I was about to duck when a bunch of guys came over and suddenly there were about six or eight of our mates (practically all we had in school) clustered around the table. And Drew DelVecchio was right at the center of it. "Uh, what's up, guys?" I asked, looking back and forth between Drew and Ben. Drew looked at me with that goofy grin of his, and nudged our friend Thomas (he hated to be called Tommy), who'd been standing with his back to us. Thomas turned around and sat a plate down on the table, right in front of Ben. It was piled with cupcakes, chocolate and vanilla, and a few candles, unlit though they were. Drew just shrugged and said, "Ol' Scoops there wouldn't let me have a match." He jerked his thumb at the lunch lady. "I wonder why?" Ben said, rolling his eyes. "Uh, thanks, fellas. But... uh... you're not gonna si--" He didn't get the rest of the sentence out before Billy, poor out of tune Billy, started singing "Happy Birthday" and the rest of the gaggle joined in. Ben and I both wanted to sink into the floor, but I could tell he was glad, too. When they got to the last long note on "Happy birthday, dear Beh-en," someone lobbed a milk carton over. It hit Drew on the forehead, but it was like he didn't notice, and they just kept on through the "Happy birthday to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu," which elicited a few thrown grapes from another corner of the cafeteria. One landed square in Drew's open mouth; he gagged and spat it out. Ben and I were laughing hysterically by this point, and the other guys joined in. "Not funny, dorkface!" Drew yelled toward the grape throwers. "I know," someone else called back, "but tomatoes haven't come in yet!" That made us laugh all the harder, even Drew. Then Benji looked up at them again and said, "Thanks, guys. You suck at singing...but you're the best." They all said "happy birthday," and then each grabbed a cupcake and sat down. That left one vanilla for Ben, and a chocolate for me. As the other boys got engaged in conversations of their own, Drew leaned over towards Ben and me with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "So what's the plan?" he asked. "Plan? What plan?" I said. He had a smear of chocolate icing on his cheek, and I resisted the urge to wipe it off. "You know, for the party. For the weekend. For...stuff." The emphasis he put on the last word made it clear what "stuff" he had in mind. I was beginning to think we needed a code word. "Don't know yet," Ben said. Since it was a school night, his official party day was Friday, and Sean had told us he had an idea for the weekend but was keeping it hush. The bell rang before any of us could say much else, and we all headed off to wherever we were supposed to be. The rest of the day passed much like any school day, except for recess being truncated due to the heat. After just a few minutes outside, Ben said he felt a little sick, and so did a few others and we went back in. For the rest of the period, the teachers let us read or play games. While Ben, Drew and I played Clue, I brought up the subject of code words for "stuff," and we quietly tossed a few around. I don't remember how we came up with them, and most were just silly, but a couple stuck. After last week's adventure, "horseback" was an obvious choice. "Have you seen my cap gun?" somehow meant "I've got a boner," and the countersign "Beam me up, Scotty" was an offer of a blowjob. "Cute arse" became "Professor Plum," and cum became "Mountain Dew." Laughing like loons, we put all these into various imaginary conversations. "Whoa, check out Professor Plum, my cap gun's loaded," "Beam me up, Scotty, I want a Mountain Dew," and so forth. Master cryptologists we weren't, but it amused the hell out of us back then. Baseball practice was cancelled due to the heat, so we got home earlier than usual for a Monday. I remember feeling a little sorry for Drew who still had basketball practice in the gym. When Ben and I got home, Sean and Sarah were puttering around in the kitchen, and Sean had the determined look of a chef on a deadline. Sarah, I think, was mostly there to keep him grounded and remind him where he'd set things down. Sean said that Greg was on his way home with Nate and Walt, and that dinner would be in about two hours and with a smile and wink, he suggested we should go be somewhere else until then. So we checked in on Adam, who was napping away peacefully, and then I heard the phone ring. I ran and snatched the cordless off the receiver. It was Alice and Ted, Greg's parents. Ever since Greg had married mum, our new grandparents had made a habit of calling to wish each of us a happy birthday when we couldn't be there in person, and they'd now extended that to Ben. I handed him the phone, and watched as they talked. At first, I think he was a little surprised at the call, but I could hear most of what Alice was saying, and the absolute warmth in her voice made both of us smile. And Ted was just a big kid at heart. The call lasted about ten minutes, and they promised they'd see Ben on Friday. Excited now, we took a Frisbee out back to play with Fintan for a while. The day was cooling off a bit, but it was still far too hot to be comfortable, and soon we traded the Frisbee for the hose. Fin loved chasing the jet of water, barking and trying to bite it as it hit the ground. On lighter settings, we'd shoot him with the hose, and he loved that too. Funny how a dog can be terrified of getting a bath, but loves playing with a garden hose outside. Of course we sprayed each other, too, which felt great, and only stopped when we heard Greg come back. Then, smiling, sweaty and with sopping wet clothes, we dried off Fintan and went back inside. We said a quick hi to Greg and the boys and headed for our room. In the bathroom, we both stripped off and left our wet shorts and shirts hanging on the towel rack. Standing there together just in wet white briefs, we unabashedly stared at each other's clearly visible stiffies and smiled. Knowing I was still hesitant to initiate anything with him, Ben took a few steps toward me and traced his fingers along my dick. Feeling him do that through the wet cotton, I shivered a little. "Ohhh," I said softly, and he chuckled. It felt really good, and he knew it. Still, something, something undertone in the atmosphere made me ask him, "Do you wanna really?" He looked at me. "It's your birthday, Benji," I continued. "I'll do whatever you want, but we don't ever have to do anything if you don't want." It was a babbling gush of a sentence, but I think he got the gist. Ben slid his hand up my belly and my chest, and then around my shoulder, stroking my back. "You've gotta take off the kid-gloves, man. I do want to, really. But in a minute, ok?" He bit his lip, and I saw in his eyes, he was trying to decide something. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he just sort of ruptured. "Sometimes I miss home. I mean this is home. You're my home, but I just... I talk funny to everyone and... and... I dunno..." He trailed off, and I knew he was thinking about the teachers and some of the kids who had trouble getting through his brogue, which was much thicker than either Sean's or mine. Why it came to mind now, I wasn't sure. I still didn't really know what to say. But then she shrugged it off and said, "Doesn't matter. It's okay, Timmy." He never, ever called me Timmy, and had it been anyone but him or Sean, I would have been annoyed. As it was I just leaned back against the tile wall, felt the coolness on my shoulder blades. Ben's arms came down around my waist and he hugged me, his head resting against my neck. I whispered his name and hugged him back, and he pressed tighter against me. I felt his cock against mine, both stirring again. We stood like that for a long time, and then I felt him shift under me, his knee brushed against my hard-on, setting it to throb. I reached over and turned on the shower. After a minute, we stepped into the tub, still wearing our briefs. Ben grabbed the soap, and we started to wash ourselves, and each other, like we had that day after the storm. We held on to each other while we rinsed off, and then I felt Ben's crotch sliding against me. I slid an arm around him, while he worked his boner against my side. Then he reached down and peeled my soaked briefs down my legs. They dropped to the bottom of the tub, and in a second, so did his. Using his shoulders for balance, I kicked them over the side, and he laughed a little. After that, he just held on to me again like earlier. I didn't really know what was inspiring all this closeness all of a sudden, but I wasn't about to turn it down. It was Ben's birthday, but as far as I'm concerned, I was getting the best present. Before the water started to cool too much, Ben twisted around me and threw the stopper. The drain closed and the water started pooling higher around our feet. As the tub filled, we sat down beneath the spray, gently splashing each other. Smiling and still rubbing our hands over each other. When the tub got full enough, I turned off the shower, and Ben slid around, his back to me. I pulled my legs up, and he slid back between, leaning against my chest. With his legs out straight, I slid mine around him, Indian-style, locking him in a kind of crablike embrace. Our arms were linked over his belly. We leaned back, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. He sighed, and wiggled his butt. I felt my boner poke between his cheeks down there, but neither of us said anything for a long time. Then he said "I love you, Tim." It was almost a whisper. I held him tighter, and whispered "Happy birthday, Benj" back to him. We sat like that, feeling each other breathe, until we heard Sean in the bedroom, calling us for dinner. "We'll be cumming in a minute," Ben said in reply, and I'm sure Sean took his meaning well. With that, he wrapped my hand around his stiff, submerged boycock, and I jerked wildly on his meat. The motion made ripples in the tub, spreading out from Ben's cock. He moaned in short, ragged breaths, and after less than a minute he clutched my legs tightly and leaned back against my chest, shuddering as he came. We watched as his cock sent several streams of milky semen shooting into the warm bathwater. Although my own stiffy throbbed against Ben's backside, I would have been happy enough to leave it there. But Ben wiggled out from between my legs and turned around. He knelt in front of me, and grasped me in his hand, stroking me as madly as I had him. His face was a mask of blissful concentration as he tugged on my tube, and it didn't take me long before I was ready to burst. "I'm gonna shoot," I said breathlessly, arching my back. The head of my cock popped out from the water, and my first jet of cum smeared across Ben's cheek. He aimed my spurting dick like a laser and opened his mouth, catching the next shot on the tip of his tongue. Some dribbled down his chin. He leaned forward and caught the next shot fully, and the rest of them hit his chest. He kept jerking my cock as it slipped back beneath the surface and gobby dribbles of cum joined his in the bathwater. He let go of my cock and rubbed my legs as I shivered my way through orgasm. When I calmed down, sinking to my neck in the soapy, cummy water, Ben wiped his chin with the back of one hand. He licked my spunk from his hand and then shook off the residue under the water. "Better than cake icing," he said, cocking his patented, bemused half-smile. "Nice birthday gift, thanks!" I just let out a whistling breath, not ready for words. Ben and I climbed from the tub and I flipped up the stopper. We dried each other off with one of our big beach towels. As we did, I trailed my fingers down Ben's arm, tracing a few his small, rough scars. He looked at me oddly, and feeling the blush rise in my cheeks, I shuffled my feet and said, "I wish I could have protected you." "You are now," he said, "and you always have. Thinking about you and Sean and...mum, hoping for this... Remembering your faces every night. That kept me going. And the scars... I don't think they matter anymore." He flashed a quick, full smile at me, like rare sunlight on a rainy day. I was so chuffed that I didn't know what to say, and just grinned like a loon. We dressed quickly. Over our fresh briefs, Ben and I put on matching gray cargo shorts, and baseball shirts, his blue-and-white, mine maroon-and-gray. He slung an arm around my shoulder, and turned us to the mirror. Then he kissed my cheek, and my brain short-circuited for a few seconds. "Let's go eat, chum," he said. "Sounds good, but don't call me 'chum,' mate," I replied reflexively, completing our old joke by rote while reality seemed to stutter inside my head. My mouth hung open slightly. "The food's not going to come upstairs and jump down your throat, Tim." He laughed, took my hand, and pulled me toward the door. I came back to earth as we left the room, and raced him down the stairs to the dining room. We could smell it before we'd gotten halfway down. Sean had made Ben's favorite for dinner: Chicken Alfredo. There was also the deep smell of French fries, and the sweet tang of root beer. As we skidded to a stop, I saw we hadn't been holding the others up for long. Sean and Greg were just putting hot crescent rolls on the table, along with corn-on-the-cob. Nate and Walt looked ravenous, and Adam was in his booster seat next to Greg's chair, playing with a handful of carrot sticks. I glanced at Ben, who was staring at Sean with unbridled admiration. They hugged quickly, and Sean rubbed his buzz cut hair. Greg cleared his throat, and raised his hands like an orchestra conductor. For the second time that day, Ben was serenaded by "Happy Birthday." Aside from me, this rendition was much more in tune. And we'd all do it again on Friday, at the official party, complete with cake. We sat down, Greg at one end, Ben at the other, Sean and me flanking him, with Walt next to Sean, and Nathan next to me. Sean said a quick grace, and we dug in. The Alfredo was Sean's best approximation of mum's old recipe, and it was simply amazing. When Ben had first tasted it on his second time visiting as my schoolmate in Belfast, it had instantly become his favorite thing in the universe. I watched him eat two full helpings, and half a plate more on top, not to mention the chips, corn, champ and crescent rolls. In fact, I could barely keep my eyes off Ben all through dinner. He just seemed so happy, and the spot where he'd kissed my cheek still tingled, in my imagination at least. About halfway through, Greg lifted his glass of root beer, and said, "A toast to Benji, everyone. Thirteen, man. Welcome to your adolescence. Enjoy tonight, because next comes armpit hair, body odor and shaving nicks. It's all downhill from here, kiddo." Sean added, "It's not all bad. There's dating to look forward to, too." We all laughed. A short time later, Sean got up to refill everyone's root beer. When he came back, he saw me staring at Ben again, and softly nudged me. He whispered, "You really are over the moon, aren't you, Eeyore?" I just blushed and twiddled my fork through my mashed potatoes. After dinner, Greg ushered us all into the garage. Remembering what had transpired in there yesterday, I had a moment of panic as I imagined Greg finding some kind of evidence we'd left behind. It was only paranoia, and I knew it. This was part of the plans that Greg, Sean and I had made earlier. Though Ben's official party was a few days away, we couldn't let his actual birthday pass without giving him something special. Greg opened the door, and Ben's mouth dropped open. In the middle of the garage was a brand new twelve-speed bicycle, painted blue with red trim. Ben goggled at it, amazed, and excitedly thanked us. He ran to it, and as if awestruck, ran his hands over the handlebars. The bike had been Greg's idea, but Sean and I had helped him pick it out, and stash it in the back shed a week earlier. Since then, Sean and I had snuck out there at times when Ben was otherwise occupied, and stenciled some additional detailing: Ben's name on one side (Sean's idea), and the Harp of Erin superimposed over the American flag on the other (my idea). The plastic license tags read "BARC 13" for Benjamin Arthur Rory Connors. He traced his fingers over the "C," and I knew what he was thinking. Connors. Not Donovan, his mother's name, or Murdoch, our father's, but Greg's name. The name we all shared as a family, and it was his now. "It's absolutely brill!" Ben exclaimed, taking in the bike as a whole. All in all, it was a great improvement over the secondhand two-speed he'd lost that day in the park. That one had only meant to be temporary anyway, and now, it was forgotten completely. We gathered around as Ben continued his inspection, and I smiled as he picked up the helmet, stenciled the same as the bike itself, and noticed the small envelope taped to it. He read the card out loud: "To Elliot, with love. Safe landings, always, ET & The Rescuers." That had been all me, and I was glad it made him laugh. Greg opened the garage door, and suggested he take the bike for a spin around the block. For a second, Ben actually did look nervous, as if afraid to handle a delicate piece of china. He hadn't ridden much since the incident at Suicide Hill, though he'd borrowed Sean's old bike a couple of times. But he wasn't afraid of falling again. He looked at the gages, then up at Greg and Sean and said, "It might be a little more complicated than my last ride. Will you show me the ropes tomorrow?" They both nodded, smiling. "If that's the way you feel, Ben, sure," Greg said. "You sure you like it, though?" Ben nodded vigorously. "I love it!" He almost said "Dad," but caught himself, thought about using Greg's name, but then just settled for a hug. Greg patted his back. "Love you, kiddo." In a moment, it was a group hug. Ben even picked up Adam, who flung his arms around Ben's neck and said, "Love Bee-Gee." It was as close as the wee man could come to saying 'Benji', and that too made us all laugh. Then Greg said, "Go get your shoes on, fellas. We're going to Friendly's!" A resounding chorus of cheers was followed by a stampede to the house, then back again to the garage, and out the door to the waiting minivan. Thinking back to those times, I'm again amazed at Greg. He always knew just the right thing to fit the moment, and to top it off, what other single father could actually have brought himself to drive a minivan without a trace of resentment? Our trip to Friendly's consisted of sundaes from the carry out window, eaten around the two round stone tables that sat on the restaurant's lawn. Ben and I had Reese's Peanut Butter Cup sundaes, though his was vanilla and mine chocolate. I'm not sure what the others had, except for Walt making a royal mess of his Happy Ending, smearing hot fudge over his Goof Troop t-shirt, and Adam taking a couple bites of Greg's strawberry cone. I do remember that Ben smiled a lot, and so did Sean. The rest of us undoubtedly did, too. All in all, it was a great way to end the evening. On the way back home, I rode shotgun, with the little ones on the middle bench, and Sean and Ben in the back row. I could see them whispering to each other when I turned around. Greg saw, too, in the mirror. "I don't know what you two are on about," he said, "but don't get too excited. Tomorrow is still a school day, boys." They both just nodded, and Sean still smiled while Ben had a serious look to him. And I was damned curious. When we got home, I hung back with them for a minute while Greg led the wee ones inside. Sean and Ben got out of the minivan, and I saw Ben shove a piece of paper in his pocket. I just looked back and forth from Ben to Sean, raising my eyebrows. Ben still looked gravely serious, but there was a sparkle in his eyes, and Sean just gave me his own brand of half-smile and patted my shoulder. "We'll talk about it later," he said. I knew he meant after we went to bed, in the privacy of our room. Knowing all the ice cream and excitement would make it impossible for them to quiet down anytime soon, Greg extended bedtime for the little guys by an hour, or until droopy-eyed, whichever came first. To burn off some energy, we broke out Greg's old Twister game, and I laughed, watching with Adam on my lap while the others played. Adam, for his part, was engrossed in a Sesame Street tape. "Snuffy!" he yelled happily when the big brown mammoth came on screen, and I turned to watch with him. Snuffleupagus had always been my favorite on the program, too. Adam fell asleep almost before the show finished, and I carried him to his bed and tucked him in. I brushed his red hair from his forehead and kissed it. "Sleep tight, wee man," I said, and returned to the family room. Nathan had won the Twister game somehow, I saw, and they were packing it up. I had to block out the thought of all of us playing the game in the nude, but I made a mental note to suggest "Naked Twister" to Sean and Ben on some occasion, sooner rather than later. For some reason, the thought of playing it with Greg also came to mind, and as far as I can remember, that's the first time I had ever thought of him in an even remotely sexual way. It must have been the impending onset of my years of teenage angst that was ramping up my horniness. Walt and Nathan decided to fire up the Super Nintendo and play Donkey Kong Country until bedtime, and Sean and Ben started up a game of Stratego. They both asked me if I wanted to do something else, something for all three of us, and Greg asked if I wanted to play cards with him, but I just shook my head, content to sip a glass of milk and watch. That was something I did often, sit back and watch everyone else doing stuff. I thought of it as "fun by osmosis," though no one else really got it. Not even Sean fully understood those moods of mine. Hell, I'm not sure I even did. When the game finally finished, long after Nate and Wally were in bed and Greg had gone into his office, Ben came over to me while Sean cleaned up. I smiled at him, and he plopped down on the couch next to me. "Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded. "Sure am, mate. I just felt like watching." He hugged me. "I had fun today, Tim. A lot. My best birthday ever." I leaned my head against his and smiled as Sean sat down across from us. "Best birthday ever, huh?" he said, grinning. "Yup. The craic was ninety!" I smiled again, hoping Ben never stopped using those Irish phrases. They were already seeping out of Sean's vocabulary, replaced by American idioms that didn't garner odd looks from his friends. It was almost midnight, and we marched into Greg's office to say goodnight. Greg hugged me and Ben, and suggested that lights out should be at Sean's discretion. He figured we'd probably stay up talking for a while. We left the office with Sean's arms draped over our shoulders, and headed upstairs. A quick tooth brushing and change into pajamas for me and Ben, and into boxers for Sean, and we were ready for bed. Almost. On another night, I know Sean would have stayed up talking on the phone with Sarah for a while, or would have been over at the DelVecchios', but he thought it was important that he be here, that we all be together for Ben's first birthday at home. "You want to tell him?" Sean asked Ben, and I snapped out of my reverie. "Yeah," Ben answered without hesitation. "No secrets. Uh, from each other, I mean." He fished in the pockets of his discarded cargo shorts and pulled out the folded piece of paper I'd seen earlier. He handed it to me. "Sean gave me this in the car," he said, and then added, "Please don't freak." All three of us sitting on the edge of Sean's bed, I opened the paper. I had no idea what I'd find, but the message I saw there wasn't something I would have predicted. In Sean's best handwriting, the note read: GIFT CERTIFICATE presented upon the recipient's entrance into the teenage, and according to the rights thereby granted, this certificate entitles the bearer to one unlimited horseback ride on SAM. Ride to be given at a time of the bearer's chosing and to be repeated thereafter at the bearer's will. I stared at the "certificate," and started to say, "I don't understand," but then I suddenly did understand. My eyes came close to bulging from their sockets, my mouth dropped open and I jerked my head to look first at Sean, then Ben, and back again. Sean's expression was calm, placid, and he said, "Easy now, Eeyore." Ben's face was still marked with seriousness, but the light in his eyes was bright and happy. My eyes once more dropped to the rumpled paper, and I reread it, mouthing the words, as full realization dawned, blazing in my mind. The meaning of the "horseback ride" was clear, and the horse "SAM" was obviously Sean, who was Sean Arthur Michael, but the "unlimited" part was something totally new. Their expressions told me that it meant exactly what I thought it did. Sean had given Benji an invitation to fuck him. Not just the kind of horsey ride from the other day, or hot dogging his crack, either. It was a license to bugger. Dick in arse. Ben fucking Sean. For real. I handed the note back to Ben, and lay back on the bed, letting out a long sigh. Sean asked if I was okay. I said, "Sure, as long as you answer two questions." "Anything," Ben said. "Okay then." I sat up, grinning, despite my best attempt to be serious. "First is... can I watch?" They exchanged a glance, smirking, and Ben turned back to me. "We'll see, Timmy," he said, winking. I punched him for calling me that, lightly though. "Okay." I looked up at Sean. "Second is... am I going to get one of those?" My own birthday was a month away. Sean just stared at me for a long moment, and then smiled. "We'll just have to see about that, too, Eeyore." The three of us shared a group hug, and then Ben hugged Sean tighter, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Sean," he said. "I kinda do wanna take that ride now, but... I think I'll save it for a while." He disentangled himself and ran over to his desk, putting the gift certificate in the old, worn brown wooden box where I knew he kept letters, photos, some coins and stamps and ticket stubs, and other bits of nostalgic paraphernalia he'd collected before he came home to us. It was the same box from which he'd pulled a photo, years before, which confirmed that we were brothers. "Real soon," he said, turning back to us. "Tonight, I just want to be with you both." He moved back over to us, and took off his shirt. I did the same, and the three of us climbed into Sean's bed. Ben in the middle, me spooned against his back, both of us just in pajama bottoms, and Sean in his boxers, cuddling both of us in his warm, big embrace. We talked for a while, cracked a few jokes about the whole situation, laughed and snuggled with each other. Ben drifted off to sleep first, and Sean turned out the light. He kissed Ben's forehead and rubbed my arms. "Goodnight, lads," he said, and that was all I knew until morning. With Ben's actual birthday behind us, but the party still looming ahead, the rest of the week seemed to creep by, all the while the temperature shot up like a rocket. Plans for an indoor day of gaming changed drastically when Greg suggested we make it a pool party. Ben jumped at the idea. I nudged Sean and quietly joked that we'd both need baggy swim trunks. He gave me a bro-slap on the back of my head and I laughed. I guess it was Wednesday that Sean took Benji and me out and we bought some diving toys and pool noodles -- no jokes, please, we made them all in the car -- and other things Ben wanted for the party. When we were done, I remember he dropped us back at the house to stow everything, because he and Sarah had a date. That was rare for them, at least as far as I can remember, to actually go out on a real date. Most of the time, they just hung out, or did stuff with one or both families. They were serious, but casual about it, I suppose. Ben and I waved goodbye with our noodles (again, no jokes) as he drove off. Thursday when we got home from school, Greg was still at work, but Ted and Alice were there, having gotten in around lunchtime. "Well, well, if it isn't my newest teenage grandson!" Ted called when we came in, smiling. He was a tall man in his late fifties, with brown hair gone half gray and a somewhat craggy face that was still warm and open. In some ways he reminded me a little of an old Clark Gable. Though he'd lived and worked in Baltimore and then Chicago for years, he still spoke with a kind of broad New England accent that sounded oddly lyrical. It was more down home New Hampshire or Maine than Massachusetts Kennedy, I suppose. We Irish boys weren't the only ones to "talk a little funny." Ted reached out a hand for Ben to shake, and when he got a grip, he pulled Benji into a big bear hug that practically swallowed my small-framed brother whole. "You'll never be too old for a hug from gramps, alright?" Laughing, Ben forced himself out of Ted's grasp, but was just as soon enveloped by a hug from Alice, who had come in from the kitchen after hearing the door open. "Hiya, kiddo," she said, kissing his cheek, and squeezing him hard with a protracted "Oohhh! It's so good to see you!" She stroked his hair and said "Happy birthday, Ben," finally letting him go. Ben just beamed at both of them, still unsure of how to really respond. "Ehm, thanks!" he said, sheepishly. He absently wiped at his cheek, then caught himself, and shuffled his feet. "I'm really chuffed you came, it's brilliant!" "'Chuffed', huh?" Alice echoed, smiling. "I guess that's a good thing." "Ayuh," Ted said. "I think it means he's happy." He turned to me, opening his arms. "And don't think we forgot about you, Tim, me lad." I first clung tightly to Ted, then Alice. We all talked for another few minutes, and I only noticed she was wearing an apron after she flapped it at us. "Now you boys run on and play while Sean helps me fix a good old-fashioned, wholesome dinner for everybody to offset all that cake and ice cream you'll have tomorrow!" Though we could have taken Alice's "go play" literally, we decided to finish our homework first, since we wanted it out of the way. It was mainly some easy math problems, and I also remember helping Benji work out some of the differences between US and UK grammar for his book report on The Giver. Though he didn't read a lot of stories, he was more into history, that book really resonated with him, and he kept a battered and weather-worn copy on his desk for years. By the time we finished up, Greg was home with the little ones, but dinner was still a while away. I offered to help in the kitchen, but Sean and Alice said they had it under control and that I should go have fun. Greg was seeing to Nathan and Walt's homework, and Ted was looking after Adam, so Ben and I decided to take Fintan for a walk. We strapped on the big dog's leash, and headed for the woods, figuring we'd end up at the DelVecchios' and hang out with Drew and Frank for a while. As Fintan paused to sniff at some rocks, Ben and I looked around. He pointed towards an area where there was a little spur that went off from the main path, and connected up with it again a few hundred yards ahead. Following the little sidetrack would lead you to a little clearing of sorts, ringed by the trunks of two large trees felled by old storms. "I bet that would be a good place for a fort," he said. I nodded, saying that the Drew had told me they'd camped out in that spot a few times. "You think we could?" he asked. "Could what? Go camping? Sure." He nodded, and we resumed walking. "Camping, yeah. Or maybe build a fort there or a kind of treehouse or something. For us and the DeeVees." I could tell some idea had struck him and this was only the surface of it. He didn't say anything more, though, and in a few minutes, we were coming out of the woods into the DelVecchios' back yard. Drew and Saint saw us from the patio windows and came running out. Both were barefoot and shirtless, just wearing shorts. Fintan barked happily as they approached, wagging his tail. We got hi fives from the boys, and then Frank bent and started petting Fin. We talked for a couple of minutes and Ben asked if they wanted to take a walk while we waited for dinner. They both nodded, and Drew ran in to let either Sarah or his mom or someone know that we were all going around the block, and would be back. He came running back out, still barefoot. I handed Fintan's leash to Saint, and we set off. Walking and talking, or running with Fin at times, our route covered about a mile and a half of rural back roads. It was hot and a little muggy, so Ben and I took off our shirts, and slung them over our shoulders. Walking like that, with Drew and Frank, I was reminded of the opening to The Andy Griffith Show. All that was missing were the fishing poles. I think I even started whistling at one point, until Ben nudged me and I shut up. I can't whistle, or sing, or carry a tune in a bucket. Of all the Irish genes I have, the one for making music isn't one of them. We traded Fin's leash between us, and he was very well behaved. The heat must have been sapping his energy at least somewhat. After about half an hour, we came back around into our neighborhood proper again, and stopped at our house. We sat on the porch drinking cokes until Ellie DelVecchio called and said it was time for Drew and Saint to come home for supper. We walked them to the edge of the woods, and Ben told them to look at that one spot and see if they thought a fort would work there. They went on, and we went back in the house just as Alice, Sean and Greg were setting the table. Ben and I got cleaned up some, and then we all sat down to a good old fashioned Irish dinner. Beef stew, chicken and leek pot pie, mashed potatoes and gravy. Alice said she'd thought about making ham and cabbage instead but figured she would have pity on the wee ones. "Ayuh, that's a good call, love," Ted said, and we all laughed. After dinner, milk and cookies were served in the family room. Later, after Adam went to bed and Greg read him a bit from Oh, The Places You'll Go, the rest of us played Monopoly. I remember Walt zooming around the room every time he passed go. At least it wore him out a little, bleedin' Energizer bunny that he is. The game was over after Nate cleaned Ben out when he landed on Park Place with a hotel. We cleaned up, the Walt and Nathan went to bed. By 11 o'clock or so, Ben and I were tired, too and said goodnight, while Sean stayed up with the grownups for a while longer. We all slept in our own beds that night, but I woke up when Sean came in. Benji, who could probably sleep through Armageddon itself, didn't stir when Sean kissed his forehead, or when he leaned against my top bunk, and we talked softly while he gently rubbed a cramp out of my leg. I had growing pains sometimes during the night. When it was gone, he ran his hand up my body, rubbing my chest, and then stroking my cheek with a finger. I smiled and held his hand for a moment. He bent, kissed me softly on the lips and said goodnight. I was back asleep almost before he'd reached his bed. School was hell to get through on Friday, not just for me and Ben, but for all of our classmates who were coming to the party that evening. All tolled, that was about a dozen guys and a few girls. A couple of the older and younger boys were invited too, ones with whom Ben had also become friends. Even our baseball coach and some of our teachers were invited, the ones who had taken a positive interest in an awkward, hurting boy with a strange accent, but deep thoughts. Somehow, we all made it through the day, though I swear if I'd had to hear Drew say how he couldn't wait for it one more time, I would have belted him one. All of the kids who rode the same bus as Ben and I had permission to get dropped off at our house, so we arrived in a gaggle of about eight. Coach Will came next, and then the other kids trickled in one or two at a time, as did Ms. Brennan, Mrs. Bigley, and Mr. Novaczek, our favorite teachers. Other kids from the neighborhood and their parents were also invited. The rest of the DelVecchios were already there when we arrived, having helped Greg, Ted and Alice set up. Ted and Vince manned the dual grills, whipping up scores of hot dogs, burgers and chicken. Even some Irish sausage for the courageous, and where they found HP Sauce, I'll never know, but God love 'em. Greg and Sean spent most of the time on lifeguard duty, watching over the thirty odd kids splashing around in the pool, having super soaker battles, or enjoying the slip-n-slide on the hill. Fintan was also on the lookout for trouble, and an occasional bark from the big oaf -- who was brighter than he looked in some ways -- was usually enough to remind the boys not to run on the pool deck. Alice and Ellie were collecting the gifts, taking pictures, talking with the parents, and making sure the ice cream kept coming. It was a perfect example of controlled chaos, and Ben was having a blast, though he wore a t-shirt over his trunks to cover the scars. And me? Well, as I think I've said before, I don't do that well in crowds. I'm not afraid of them, but I'm hyper-observant so the noise and constant sensory overload would get to me after just so long. I forced myself to hold it together for Ben's sake, but he understood how I felt. I did go inside or into the woods for a five minute breather a few times, but on the whole, I handled it pretty well. Around six o'clock, Greg and Vince called everyone out of the pool, and made sure everyone had eaten their fill. Then everyone gathered around Ben at the picnic tables to sing happy birthday. Nathan and I led the way from the house as Alice and Sean brought out the cakes. We'd made two of them special, and had a generic third standing by, just to make sure there would be enough for everyone. Sean, Nathan and I had picked out the cake pan for the first one weeks ago. The first was a Wolverine design, and was either white or yellow, done in yellow, blue and chocolate icing. Twelve candles were lined up along the claws, and the thirteenth was in place of Wolverine's cigar. A word bubble said "Happy Birthday, Bub." Sean had mixed the batter for it last night before he came up to bed, and Alice had actually baked it today while we were all at school. It was a fun cake, partially so because we'd all given each other X-Men nicknames. Ben was Wolverine of course, the scrapper. It made him laugh happily, but that laughter turned to silent awe when he beheld the second cake. It was an absolutely massive double-layer vanilla sheet cake, and it was an amazingly detailed work of art, if I do say so myself. Narnia-inspired, it had taken Sean and I a solid week to come up with the rough design, which Greg had taken to a friend of his at a local confectionary shoppe to have finished. We'd based it off the covers of our old set of Narnia books that we'd had in Belfast, which Benji had borrowed from me at one point and fell in love with. There was at least something or someone from each book on the cake, arranged in a semicircle above Aslan the great lion, who stood in front of not four thrones at Cair Paravel, but six, with the name of each brother stenciled on their backs. "Happy Birthday, Ben" was written at the very top, but beneath Aslan were the words, "Once a King in Narnia, Always a King in Narnia. Welcome Home, Dear Heart." In the top left corner, a wax Mr. Tumnus stood by the lamppost, which was the thirteenth candle. When we all stopped singing, I saw Ben was actually crying. He was smiling broadly, but his eyes were overflowing with ecstatic tears. Sean laid a hand on his shoulder, asked if he was okay. Ben just nodded, blinking away the tears. He closed his eyes, and to this day, I don't know exactly what he wished for, but the biggest smile I've ever seen from his crossed his face, as with his eyes still closed, he blew all the candles out in one breath. As the Wolverine cake got cut up first, Ben was still looking at the Narnia cake in wonder. He asked whose idea it was. I pointed to Sean, since it was mostly his doing, but Sean also pointed to me. Ben leapt up and gave Sean the biggest hug of all time, crying again. Then it was my turn to get the squeeze treatment. He almost knocked me over. "I guess you like it, then," I said when I got my breath back. "It's the most brilliant thing ever!" he said. "Wolverine's great, too, but that's just...brilliant! I'm so chuffed I could bust." We laughed, but Sean and I were both a little teary-eyed, too. Sean made sure that Ben got the piece which said "Welcome home," and I saw them both crying at different points throughout the night. After the cake was dished out to everyone, the gift opening began. I've long since forgotten most of what Ben got that day, but here's what I do remember: Sean gave him a really nice telescope, and he got some GI Joes from Walt and Nathan. He got two Ripken 8 jerseys, a gray one from Coach Will and a black one from Greg, and an assortment of games, books, super soakers, Nerf guns, action figures, models, ball caps and some clothes. I had thought long and hard about what to get him, and I finally settled on a sports watch and a Swiss army knife. Greg had helped me get them both engraved, the knife with the initials B.C., and the watch with the Irish words: "Ben, mo bráthair agus anam chara - Tim." My brother and soul friend. He teared up again a little at that, and later Ben told me that he'd had to restrain himself from kissing my cheek in front of everyone. Once all the gifts were opened and Ben thanked everyone profusely, it was starting to get dark. A few of the guests had to leave, but most stayed. The volleyball net had been set up in one corner of the yard, and a game got started over there. Most everyone else, around a dozen people, got split up into two teams by Greg and Coach Will. And then Greg turned on the pool lights and we officially introduced Ben to water polo, which quickly became one of his favorite games of all time. The game lasted a good while, and it was a hell of a lot of fun. Ben and Nathan together managed to score the winning goal, sneaking one in past Greg who swore up and down later that he hadn't let them win (and I believe him). Ben and Nate then took a spontaneous victory lap around the pool, riding on Coach Will and Sean's shoulders. Things started winding down after nine and by ten, most everyone but the DeeVees, some of the older boys and the teachers had gone. We were all feeling physically exhausted, though not mentally. I remember definitely having that odd feeling of numb, tingly displacement that you get after you've been in the water for a very long time. It was weird, but still felt good. While the grownups talked, Sean and Sarah went off together, which left Ben, TJ, Drew, Saint and I sitting at the picnic tables, absently playing cards while Walt and Nathan played with some of Ben's new action figures. Alice finally came over and took the two little ones inside for milk and bedtime stories. Sean and Sarah eventually came back from their walk, too, and sat down with us, watching us finish up our game. Drew piped up and asked him what the big plan for Saturday was. Sean didn't really give an answer, but said to be ready to split by about ten in the morning. We kept playing and talking until almost midnight. Before he left, Coach Will came over and gave Ben an encouraging hi five. Ben responded with a quick hug that took the coach a little off guard. But he returned it, and Sean and I smiled. Ben had really made a connection with Coach Will, and looked up to him more than any other older person outside the family and the DelVecchios. "Happy birthday, slugger," the coach said as he left. "It's good to have you around." Ben positively beamed. The DeeVees left shortly after that, too, and Sean and I helped Greg and Ted clean up. All we let Ben do was carry his gifts into the house, and Alice had already taken care of most of that. It was almost 1AM by the time Sean, Ben and I finally got back to our bedroom. Still very much feeling that weird post-swim exhaustion, we stripped down, and all three of us got into the shower. Ben and I took turns soaping up Sean, and he washed both of us. I remember that while we didn't really do anything much sexual in the shower that night, Sean kissed both of our cocks, and we gave his a few licks. We were just too tired to do much else. After we dried off, Sean turned on the fan, and we slid naked into his bed, curled up with each other with Ben in the middle again. ---- Thanks again for sticking it out! Seriously, the next chapter is more than half written, and I have it backed up in multiple (if secret) places. It'll be along really soon. Maybe by the end of the week, if I can keep up the momentum. In the meantime, as always, if you have any comments, questions, encouragement or flames, please write me at: patriotspectre@yahoo.com. I'd love to hear from you! Cheers! - Tim