Date: Fri, 27 Oct 2000 22:18:44 -0700 (PDT)
From: Brew Maxwell <brew_drinker23@yahoo.com>
Subject: Twin Spin, Part 2, Chapter 10

Disclaimer:
The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or
events is purely coincidental.  The story contains graphic descriptions of
sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material
must exit the story now.  The characters have unprotected sex, as
characters safely can in fiction.  Reality, obviously, is another matter
entirely.

This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its
readers.  It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without
the written permission of the author.

Other works by the author in the Nifty Archive include "Unusual Christmas"
and the series Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school; "First
Mate" and "Twin Spin" in gay/incest; The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in
gay/encounters; "My First Year with Kevin" in gay/high school; and "From
Slave to Houseboy" in gay/authoritarian.

This story is a continuation of "Twin Spin," and you might find that some
of the references make more sense if you've read the first part.

E-mail comments are always welcome.

Twin Spin, Part 2

Chapter 10

	After that night when Kevin and I had our "come to Jesus" about the
Dozens, I saw less and less of him.  All of us except Brian were
religiously faithful about going to his football games, but he stopped
going out with us after the games to celebrate his triumphs on the field.
Tom either didn't notice Kevin's absence, or he chose to ignore it.  I
couldn't help thinking I had said something that night to drive him away
from his own family.  We all finally faced what was going on about a month
later at breakfast.
	"Has anybody seen my brother lately," Brian asked.  Tom, Chuck,
Brian, and I were at the table.
	"Don't you see him at school," Tom asked.
	"Yeah, Dad, I see him, but that's all I do.  Just *see* him.  We
never talk, except to say 'hi,' or something.  It's like we're just
classmates.  He's even started sitting in different desks across the room
from me.  I literally have not had a conversation with him in weeks."
	"Well, I feed him every morning," Chuck said, "but he hasn't been
very communicative with me, either.  It's like he's withdrawn from us, or
something.  Tom, frankly, I'm worried."
	"Has he done anything strange or unusual," Tom asked.
	We all shook our heads "no."
	"I don't get it, Dad.  I see him in the lunchroom at school, and
he's always with the other football players.  There is always a pack of
girls around, so I know he's popular.  He knows everybody at school but
me."  Huge tears welled up in Brian's eyes.
	"So I take it you guys aren't sleeping together anymore," Tom said.
	"Dad, we're not even talking to one another," Brian said.  "What
happened to my brother?"
	"I'll call this Dr. Spaulding today and see what he says," Tom
said.  "I'll give everybody a report at dinner."

	That night Chuck decided to stay to eat with us.  Calvin was on a
business trip, anyway, so it made perfect sense.  Once the four of us were
seated, Brian asked,
	"Did you call the Doctor, Dad?"
	"Yeah, but he wouldn't tell me anything.  He said Kevin is an adult
and that I had no legal right to know anything about their relationship.
He did say he thought Kevin was making exceptional progress, though."
	"Progress at what?  Ignoring his family?"  I could tell Brian was
annoyed.
	The whole time this was going on, I sat there thinking about that
night I had made him so upset over the Dozens.
	"John, do you have any insight," Tom asked.
	I almost choked on the mouthful of food I had.  I chewed and
swallowed before I answered.
	"Not really," I said.  "The only thing I can think of is a
conversation we had before Fall Break.  He told me he wanted to go to the
University of North Carolina, Asheville.  He wasn't ready to leave home.
He also said Misty was the most important thing in his life right now."
	"He said that," Brian demanded.
	"Yes, Brian, he did," I replied.
	"How could he have said that," Brian asked.
	"Well, he did.  I asked him the same thing, Brian, and he didn't
respond.  I even asked him if she was more important than the family or
football or school or his friends, and he didn't respond."
	"This may be more serious than I thought it was," Tom said.
	"Well, he told me he doesn't even have transitory depression any
more.  Dr. Spaulding told him as much," I said. "Kevin assured me he wasn't
going to do anything stupid, like kill himself.  I know that's what you
guys are thinking, but he won't."
	"We all know that's not going to happen, John, but it's good to
know you explored that with him," Chuck said.
	"But why's he doing this," Brian said.
	"Well, look at the obvious," Chuck said.  "You have somebody, I
have somebody, John has somebody, and Tom has his business.  What does
Kevin have?"
	"He has us," Brian said.  His tone was almost pleading.
	"Yeah, but you go off to Durham every chance you get," Chuck said.
"And John and Mike spend as much time together as they can.  Calvin and I
are a married couple with a life of our own, and Tom is in and out of here
all the time.  We've got lives.  Kevin is building a life of his own, just
like us."
	"But for him to say Misty is the most important thing in his life
cuts me to the quick, Huck," Brian said.
	"But now think about it, Brian?  Who's always here for him?  Misty.
Who offers him unconditional love?"
	"Don't go there, man.  Don't fucking go there, Chuck.  I offer him
unconditional love," Brian said.
	"No, you don't, Brian," I said.  "Your condition is that he accept
himself as a heterosexual.  Your condition is that he abandon his fantasy
that you and he are one person.  I think you were right in demanding that,
but that's not unconditional love.  You put some conditions on your love."
	"Was I wrong," Brian asked.
	"Absolutely not," I said.  "But Misty doesn't give a shit about
that stuff.  When was the last time you rode Midnight, Brian?"
	"Where is this going, man," he asked.
	"Just answer the question, Brian."
	"I don't remember.  It's been a while.  The last time I rode her,
she acted like Misty used to act when I would approach her."
	"Does that tell you anything, Brian," Chuck asked.
	"Well, maybe that she doesn't recognize me anymore," he said.
	"You get an A+, my boy," Chuck said.  "She probably thinks Kevin
owns her, too.  It's the twin spin that John is always talking about.  Twin
horses must have it, too."
	"But what am I supposed to do, man," Brian demanded.  "I'm losing
my brother.  I'm losing my Kevin."
	"That could be, son, but Kevin is gaining himself," Tom said.  "Has
he been cross with you?  Has he showed any anger toward you?"
	"No, sir."
	"You guys share a bathroom.  Don't you ever see him in there?"
	"Dad, of course I do, but we don't talk to one another in there.
Not anymore," Brian said.
	"Brian, have you left him a note or called him on his cell phone,
or even e-mailed him and said, 'Hey, Kevin, let's do something together
this weekend?"
	"No, sir.  He always did that.  I never did that kind of thing,"
Brian said.
	"Well, maybe your relationship has changed, son.  Maybe it's time
for you to take the initiative and ask your brother out on a date."
	"Dad!"
	"I didn't mean it that way, Brian.  You're not courting.  You're
brothers, for Christ sake.  Just ask him to do something with you."
	"It couldn't hurt, Brian," I said.  "I know you remember the
morning at the pool when he said he'd never ask you to play with him again,
but he'd always play with you if you asked him to play."
	"Yeah, but don't you think he meant sports, J," Brian asked.
	"He said 'play,' Brian.  Going out to a movie is playing.  Going
out to eat is playing.  Shooting pool is playing.  Hell, going to the mall
and hanging out is playing.  I don't know what Kevin meant, but I heard
what he said.  And so did you.  He said something like, 'I won't ever again
ask you to play with me, but I'll always play with you, if you want me
to.'"
	"Yeah, but he also said we were still playmates the day we got the
horses," Brian said.  "Remember that?"
	"Yes, I do.  But have you ridden with him?  Have you and he taken
care of the horses together?"  I was a little annoyed at Brian right then.
	At that moment we all heard a car drive up, and we assumed it was
Kevin.  He didn't come inside immediately.  No doubt he had gone to put the
horses to bed.
	It was about nine o'clock, but we were still all in the dining
room.  The way the house was set up, Kevin could have come in at the back
door and gone upstairs without even knowing anyone was up downstairs.  We
heard the back door open and him lock it.  He went into the kitchen and
opened the refrigerator, no doubt to get something to eat left over from
dinner.
	"Shit," he said, although we could barely hear it.  He turned the
faucet on and probably drank a glass of water.  Then he started trudging
upstairs.
	"Kevin," Tom called out very loudly.
	"Sir?"
	"We're in the dining room.  Come in here, please."
	"Yes, sir," he said.
	When he walked into the dining room, I knew he was surprised to see
all of us still at the table.
	"Shit, did I miss something important," he asked.  "Whose birthday
is it?"
	"No, son, it's nobody's birthday.  Come and join us, though.  Where
have you been?"
	"I've been at the building.  I have a paper due on Friday, and I
wanted to finish it tonight.  I went to the library at UNCA to finish up my
research, and then I went to the building to finish writing it."
	"You've got that paper finished already," Brian asked.
	"Yeah.  We have a game tomorrow night.  Remember, guys?  The only
Thursday night game we have on our schedule?  I had to finish it tonight."
	"Please sit down, Kevin," Tom said.
	"Okay."
	He didn't say another word, but the look of fatigue was all over
him.
	"Can somebody give me a smoke," he asked.  He lit his cigarette.
"This is my first of the day, and it tastes damn good."
	We all chuckled.  It was an artificial chuckle, but it was a
chuckle, nevertheless.
	"Kevin, your birthday's coming up in a couple of weeks.  Give us
some ideas of what you would like to have," Tom said.
	"Underwear and socks and shit, Dad.  I don't need anything or
really want anything.  Y'all be creative."  Then, to Brian, "What do you
want?"
	Brian's eyes got heavy with tears.  "I want my brother back," he
said.
	"You set the fucking terms, man.  I've got a life, Brian.  You as
much as said you have to be part of it on your terms, but, so far, I
haven't heard anything from you.  Please excuse me.  I am really tired, and
I have to get up very early tomorrow morning.  Good night."
	Kevin got up and went up the back stairs to bed.  The emotion in
that room was so thick at that moment, you couldn't have cut it with a
knife.  Everyone was silent.  In a minute, Brian started crying.  Chuck put
his arm over him to comfort him.
	"John's right, Brian.  You have to reach out to him if you want him
as your best friend," Chuck said.
	"Why does this have to be so *fucking* complicated," Brian asked of
no one in particular.
	"Because life and relationships are complicated, son," Tom said.
"You've taken him as much for granted as he used to take you.  Now you've
got to work at getting your friend back."
	"Jesus, Dad, he's my fucking identical twin," Brian said.
	"Not any more, Brian.  You wear an earring, and he doesn't.  He has
a tattoo and a nipple ring, and you don't.  He drives an Explorer, and you
drive a Mazda.  You want to go to Duke, and he wants to go to UNCA.  You're
gay, and he's straight.  I see a lot there that isn't identical."  I was
surprised Tom was that insightful.  On second thought, I realized he
couldn't have built the financial empire he had built if he hadn't had
insight into people.
	"I know," Brian said.
	"Well, fellows, I need to get home.  I've got to get up early, too,
to satisfy the hunger of that brute beast that just jilted us.  Y'all clear
the table and make sure it's spotless in the morning when I come to work at
'All My Children.'"  Chuck's comment got a laugh from everyone, even Brian.
	After the "good-nights" for Chuck and Tom, Brian and I cleared the
table.  We really didn't talk while that was going on.  After, though, we
settled in the den with a scotch each.
	"What did you make of that, J," Brian asked.
	"I think he's made the kind of progress you and I both wanted him
to make.  He no longer thinks of himself as a part of you."
	There was a long pause.
	"You dominated your relationship, didn't you," I asked.
	"Yeah. Now I realize I did.  It wasn't intentional or conscious on
my part, but, yeah, I think I did."
	"Well, I think you're going to have to get that right with him," I
said.  "I don't know how, but I think the play thing is crucial, Brian."

	By then it was ten o'clock.  I called Mike, and he wanted me to
come over.  I needed him that night, and we made love that was tender,
concerned, and sharing.  I spent the night with him, and I barely made it
to my class at ten.  Mike was long gone by the time I woke up, but he left
me a note.
	"John," he said, "I could tell last night that you have some
conflicts with the boys.  I know you love them, but they have to live their
own lives.  You're a special part of that, and I love it, but you can't do
everything.
	"See you for lunch?  Page me.
	"I love you.
	"Mike"
	After my ten o'clock class, I paged Mike, and he returned my call
in just a few minutes.
	"Hi," I said.
	"Hey, lover.  What's going on?"
	"A lot, Mike.  And you're right, I have to let Brian and Kevin work
out their lives."
	"Do you have time for lunch," Mike asked.
	"Sure.  I always have time for you, man.  You know that."
	"Yeah, more than I have for you, I'm afraid," he said.
	"Let's don't go there, okay?  One day very soon you and I will have
all the time we need for one another.  We've just got these few months and
a couple of exams to get through."
	"You are so great.  There aren't many guys who would be as
understanding as you are," he said.
	"Well, if any guy loved you the way I do and wasn't understanding,
he'd be a fucking fool," I said.
	"Is that why I love you, John," he asked playfully.
	"No, it's my cock, and you know it."
	We discussed where we would meet for lunch, and we got there at the
same time.  I wanted to kiss him when I saw him, but Asheville wasn't the
kind of city where men kissed on the street in front of a busy restaurant.
	After we were seated and had ordered ice tea, I started the
conversation.
	"Finger any glans this morning," I asked.
	He got the pun.  "Just yours, but you were sound asleep.  That
didn't keep it from plumping right up, though."
	"Oh, damn.  I missed it.  The fingering of the glans."
	"Is that anything like the Gathering of the Clans they have up on
Grandfather Mountain every summer," he asked.
	"What the hell are you talking about, Mike?"
	"Oh, it's something I read about.  Apparently, there's a large
population of people with Scottish ancestry around here, and they have this
big pageant every summer.  We'll have to go next year."
	"That sounds cool.  Do I have to wear a kilt," I asked.
	"No, but about half the people there do wear them.  They also have
traditional Scottish games.  All the athletes participate in kilts,
including some of the marathon runners.  That must be a real bitch."
	I chuckled.  The thought of wearing a kilt was kind of intriguing,
especially if you wore one without underwear, as I'd heard they did.
	Our lunches came just then, and we both got busy.
	"So, what's up with the kids," Mike asked.  We rarely talked about
them when we were together, although Mike was enormously fond of both of
them and genuinely cared about their welfare.
	"I think Brian is suffering Kevin-withdrawal," I said.  I filled
Mike in on all that had transpired.
	"Is Brian having second thoughts about making Kevin come in," Mike
asked.
	"Come in?  What are you talking about?"
	"Well, gay men 'come out' to people.  Admitting you're not gay must
be like 'coming in.'"
	I laughed.  "Yeah, that's it, exactly.  Kevin is apparently making
really good progress with his psychologist, and he's trying to build a life
for himself.  Chuck is the one who pointed that out.  Brian has Rudy, I
have you, Chuck has Calvin, Tom has his business, and Kevin has..."
	"Nobody," Mike finished for me.
	"Exactly," I said.  "But we've talked enough about them.  Let's
change the subject."  And we did.
	As we were leaving the restaurant, I reminded Mike that Kevin had a
game that night.  Mike had been to every home game, and I knew he wanted to
attend all of them, if he could.
	"Damn.  I forgot about that," he said.
	"Well, if you can't make it, Kevin will never know.  There was a
note on the refrigerator this morning that said he's spending the night
with a friend after the game, so we won't have a post-game gathering with
him."
	"I'll be there.  It just slipped my mind, is all."
	"Well, this is the only Thursday-night game on their schedule.
They're more than half-way through the season."
	"I'll miss Friday night under the lights," he said.  "I'll see you
tonight.  I love you."
	"Okay.  I love you, too.  Finger a glans or two for me."  He
laughed, and we went our separate ways.

	Kevin did unusually well in the game that night, and his team won
handily.  All of us--Tom, Chuck, Calvin, Brian, Mike, and I--cheered
heartily for him.  On the way home, Brian seemed rather depressed.  He was
quiet.  Brian rarely attended Kevin's games because he usually left for
Durham and Rudy after school on Friday.  He had been to the first game and
to one other one when Rudy stayed with us for the weekend.
	Once we were in the house, Tom made himself a drink to take to his
suite of rooms and said good night to us.
	"I want a drink," I said.
	"Me, too," Brian replied.
	I fixed us both healthy jolts of scotch, with just enough water to
make them not "scotch on the rocks."  We went into the den and sat down.
	"You're depressed, aren't you," I asked.
	"Well, hell, yes, I'm depressed.  Why did he have to spend the
night with Riley?  Why couldn't he have come home, like he always does?"
	"How would you know what he always does, Brian," I asked.  Tonight
was only the third game you've seen, if memory serves me correctly.
	"Yeah, but he came home the other two nights I was at the game."
	"Sometimes he does; sometimes he doesn't," I said.  "I think the
team gets together after the games to re-hash them play by play."
	"We used to do that at Colton," Brian said.  "You're right.  That's
probably where he is right now.  It's probably at Riley's house tonight.
Have they ever gotten together after a game here?"
	"Yeah.  Last home game two weeks ago.  Chuck cooked up a fabulous
meal for them.  He, Calvin, and I left at half-time to get it put together.
We had it out in the pool house.  We didn't serve any alcohol, of course,
but I marked the levels on the open bourbon bottles and rum bottles before
it started.  The next day I checked them, and somebody had gotten into all
of them," I said.
	"That's like spying on them, man.  How could you do that, J?"
Brian was appalled.
	"I wasn't spying.  I was doing research.  I had a theory that those
gatherings weren't just to talk about the game, and I had empirical proof I
was right."
	Brian laughed.  "Did you tell Kevin or Chuck or my dad about your
little research project," he asked.
	"Are you crazy?"
	He laughed again, even harder.
	"The next morning, eight boys, including Kevin, were asleep on the
furniture out there.  All seniors.  They, no doubt, had told their parents
they would be spending the night at Kevin's house."
	"I see what you mean, J.  I guess his not coming home is just part
of his life as a team player," Brian said.
	"Yeah.  It is.  So, are you okay, now?"
	"Well, not completely.  I found something on his computer this
afternoon that really bothers me.  Did you know he's been keeping a
journal?  When he writes it is a mystery to me, but he does."
	"I'm sure he writes it at the Finch Building and saves it to his
computer here."
	"What," Brian asked.
	"We're on their network, you know?  Duh."
	"No, I didn't know.  No wonder the Internet is so fucking fast
here."
	"You didn't know that, Brian?  Seriously?"
	"No.  Nobody ever told me that."
	"I thought you were into programming and all."
	"I fooled around with programming a little during the summer and
when school first started, but I haven't done anything with my computer
except to check my e-mail and do some odd research on the Web in a couple
of months.  Besides, programmers don't really care about networks.  What's
the connection," he asked.
	"The connection?"  I thought the connection was obvious.  Tom
Finch's house was connected to his business network.
	"Yeah.  Is it a cable modem?  A T1 line?  What?"
	"Oh.  Sorry, I thought you meant what was the connection between
the Finch Building and this house.  Is there such a thing as a T3
connection?"
	"Yes, there is, J.  And it's really, really fast.  Damn."
	"Have you ever been to the Finch Building, Brian?"
	"No.  I know where it is, and I've seen it.  But I've never been
inside it."
	"So I guess you don't even know you have an office there, do you,"
I asked.
	"What?"
	"You and Kevin and I all have offices in the Finch Building.  You
also have the right to use any of their gym equipment, or the pool.  Man,
this is blowing my mind.  Kevin and I have reserved parking places there,
and there's one for you, too.  But you have to register and sign for it to
get it."
	"No, shit?  I guess I'll have to get down there someday."
	"Brian, do you realize that if your father dies in his sleep
tonight, you and Kevin will own Finch, Incorporated?  That building, the
building in New Orleans, and all the shit Finch owns around the world?
There are no stockholders, Brian.  It's a family business."
	"Why are you telling me this, J?"
	"Jesus Christ, Brian.  Kevin knows all this shit.  I wonder who has
withdrawn more from the family, you or him?"
	"Well, I'm here, aren't I?  He isn't."
	"That is so unfair, Brian, I can't even believe you said that.
Where are you going to be tomorrow night?  Huh?"
	"Durham, and you're right, that was unfair."  Then, "Did you know
about his journal?"
	"Yeah.  I even read some of it once.  He e-mails it to
Dr. Spaulding before he sees him.  Presumably Kevin works out some of his
feelings in the journal."
	"Well, I read it this afternoon," Brian said.
	I was a little shocked.  "Brian..."
	"Don't start.  If Kevin didn't want me to read it, he would have
slapped a password on it.  He wanted me to read it, J.  I know he did."
	"Twin spin," I asked.
	"Exactly," Brian replied.
	"So what did you think of it?"
	He was quiet for a few moments.  Then he said, "It kind of scared
me a little.  Right there on the screen, I saw him becoming a different
person.  I almost cried when I read how he beat himself up for all the
years of making me play sports with him.  Apparently you and he got into it
over the Dozens not too long ago, and he really punched himself out for
hurting your feelings.  There must have been two pages or more about that
little exchange between us in the dining room last night.  I think he wrote
it right after it happened."
	"What'd he say about that," I asked.
	"Well, at first he said he was sorry he had said that and that it
made him feel like shit that he had.  Then, though, he warmed to the
subject, and, by the end of that entry, he was feeling better about what he
had said."
	"How did that make you feel," I asked.
	"Like shit.  He's right, and I know it.  I just don't know how to
approach him about it."
	"What about making some plans with him?  Have you given that any
thought," I asked.
	"Yeah.  I've thought about it a lot, but I just don't know when we
could do anything.  I mean he gets up so goddamn early, he's gone before I
come downstairs, he has practice every afternoon, he stays in town studying
or hanging out or whatever until nine o'clock or later every night, and
then he goes right to bed when he comes home."
	"What about on a weekend?  Surely your relationship with Rudy would
survive skipping a weekend."
	"Of course it would, J, but what does Kevin do on the weekend?"
	"Good question," I said.  "Most Friday nights, even when they have
an 'away' game, he spends the night with the team.  He usually gets home on
Saturday morning before I'm up--when I'm not at Mike's place--and spends
the whole day with the horses.  He's been dating pretty regularly, so he
goes out on Saturday night.  Sunday he fools around with the horses a
little in the morning and then goes into town in the afternoon to study and
work out and whatever."
	"So he's almost never home, is he," Brian asked.
	"Not much.  Every once in a while a friend or two will come over on
Sunday.  They play basketball or ride.  They used to swim before it got too
cool for that, even in a heated pool."
	"I thought he still swims in the mornings," Brian asked.
	"He does, but the other guys lost interest in swimming when their
dicks started retreating into their bodies."
	Brian laughed, and that sounded good.
	"How many more games does he have," Brian asked.
	"Four more.  The last one is an 'away' game on November 17th.  Last
weekend would have been a good time to do something since you guys were off
on Thursday and Friday.  The weekend after the seventeenth is
Thanksgiving."
	"Damn.  That's a long time, and Rudy and I were planning on
checking out the ski slopes that weekend," Brian said.
	"Ask him to go with you," I suggested.
	"Naw, that wouldn't work.  Too complicated," he said.
	"Well, honestly, Brian, I don't know what to tell you.  But it's
getting late, and I have class tomorrow."
	I put my glass in the dishwasher in the kitchen and passed back
through the den on my way to the stairs.
	"Goodnight, Brian," I said.
	"Goodnight, J," he said.