Date: Tue, 3 Oct 2000 19:20:05 -0700 (PDT) From: Brew Maxwell Subject: Twin Spin, Part 2, Chapter 4 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 4 Chuck got to the house around ten. That, apparently, was his usual time, at least during the summer when the boys were out of school. I was inside, freshly showered, shaved, and dressed, when I heard him drive up. I met him at the back door. "You look frazzled," he said. "Did Kevin let the horse sleep with him in the house last night?" I laughed. "No, but I want to talk to you about him. He's fucked up, Chuck." "Well, wouldn't you be if most of your whole world had crashed and burned inside two weeks?" "Yes, of course I would be. And I let it happen." "John, baby, you did what had to be done. And so did Brian. He's eighteen years old. He's legally an adult, and it was time somebody had the courage to confront him. I had thought about it for a long time, but Calvin helped me realize only Brian could actually do it. And he did. And that's a good thing." "Yeah, you're right. But he is confused as shit, man. I think he needs some counseling. By a professional, not by me." "You're probably right." Chuck said. I told him about Rudy and the interaction of earlier that morning. I especially told him about Rudy's comment about suicide, and Chuck laughed. "Why are you laughing, man? Don't you think that's a possibility?" "No way." "How can you be so sure," I asked. "John, you are a good man, and you have been a wonderful influence on my boys, but they're still *my* boys. There is no fucking way in hell that Kevin Finch would ever kill himself. I understand your premises and your logic, but it just won't happen. He's jealous of that Rudy boy, probably, and he's pissed off still about the sports thing, but my Kevin isn't going to kill himself. I'm more likely to kill him than he is to kill himself." "How can you be so sure," I asked. "Mother's intuition? I don't really have an answer that's logical and that makes sense, J, but I think I'm right on this point. Now, as to the therapist, I *do* think that's a good idea. Calvin and I talked about it last night, and he actually brought it up before I thought of it. He's getting some names today of people who might be able to help Kevin. He says they had a speaker at Rotary Club who seemed like he understood kids. He's getting his number. In fact, he's going to talk to him today about Kevin." "Chuck, man, I knew you'd know what to do. I love those guys, as I think you know, and I know you love them, too. This job has turned into my life, man." "I know it has, and that's something I've wanted to talk to you about, too. You need an independent social life. And an independent sex life, too. You need to be around people your own age." "Yeah, I agree. But they're so interesting and so needy right now." "Yes, they are both of those things, but you ain't their mama. I am. You need to get out on your own and meet some people." "Don't you think I'll do that when I start school," I asked. "You'll meet people, but will you be available to them? Will you want to hang out, drink coffee between classes? Go out for a beer? Go to their houses for friendship?" Jesus, I thought, more to think about. "I see your point," I said. "I know you do. You're a young man. Handsome, smart, well educated, clever. You have it all, John. Their twin spin could crush you against the side of the washer, man. Don't let that happen. When was the last time you had a date? I don't mean sex with Brian or Kevin. I mean a real date with someone of either sex that you were attracted to?" "I guess Mike and I were getting pretty close. But the boys were always with us." "You get on that phone right now and call Mike. He's the doctor, right?" "Yeah." "Well, you call his ass and see when you two can get together. Calvin and I will handle the counseling thing with Kevin. I'm glad you realized he needs it. But you've got a life, too, man. Don't lose it. Calvin and I have taken care of them for years. We can do it another weekend, not that they need much taking care of anymore." "They need adults who love them, Chuck." "Well, they've got them. Now get." I went up to my room. I thought about what Chuck had said, and he was right. I really liked Mike, and he was the only person I really wanted to connect with. I fished around in my wallet until I found a business card for his practice, and I called the number. "Endocrinology Offices," the receptionist said. "Hi, can I speak to Mike Simmons, please," I said. "Do you mean Dr. Simmons?" "Yeah. Dr. Mike Simmons." "Who shall I say is calling," she asked. "It's John Prescott. I'm a friend of his." I waited a few minutes. Then, all of a sudden, Mike was on the phone. "Hey, J. What's up, man?" "It's good to hear your voice, Mike." "Are the kids all right?" "Well, yes and no. That's a long story, though. I think we're going to have to put Kevin in counseling." "Let me guess. Identity crisis? He's figured out he's not Brian?" "Shit. Right on the money, man. Right on the fucking money." "Yeah, that was brewing when we were in New Jersey. It's time for Kevin to accept his sexuality. Of course, I was much older, but I finally did." "Oh, when was that?" I was afraid he was going to say he was straight. "About two days after I left you guys. I'm gay. No more charades. What about you?" "Ditto, dude. In fact, that's why I'm calling you. I really like you, man, and I'd like to see you again." There was a long pause. I thought he was figuring out a way to tell me he didn't feel the same way. That would have been okay, but I hoped and prayed it wasn't what he was figuring out how to say. "This is a real surprise, John." "Oh?" Damn, what did you say to that line? "Yeah. I've thought about you every fucking day since that New Jersey trip, man. I've dialed your number three or four times a day, but I just couldn't finish it. I didn't think you would be receptive." "Mike. Yes. I'm very receptive. I've thought about you a lot, too. Every day. Many times a day, in fact. I called you, didn't I?" "Oh, God, you don't know how happy that makes me right now." "Well, when can we get together," I asked. "Could you be here tomorrow," he asked. "Or tonight?" "Maybe. Let me check out flights and get back to you. Oh, man, this is so good." "No, this is wonderful, J. This is fucking wonderful." I ran downstairs to tell Chuck. "That's good news," Chuck said. "Call the airport and find out when the first flight to get you to New Orleans takes off." I called the airport, and there was a flight to Atlanta at four that would get me to New Orleans by six, New Orleans time. I booked it immediately with a credit card number. I was really excited. The three boys came home for lunch at noon. "I'm going away for the weekend, guys," I said. "Why," Brian asked. "To see a friend, that's why." "Where are you going," Kevin asked. He had come back from his ride sweaty and nasty, but he hadn't bothered to shower. He put on some shorts to eat, but he was shirtless. "To see my friend. Why do you care, Kevin?" "Why do we care that our brother is going away for a weekend? No reason. Just idle curiosity. Oh, did I tell you I'm getting married Sunday?" Kevin's voice was dripping sarcasm. "Tell them, John. You know I won't unless you do," Chuck said. "I'm going to New Orleans to see Mike. Okay? Are you satisfied?" Brian and Kevin lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really," they said in unison? "Man, that's fucking great," Brian said. "Oh, J, that's great," Kevin said. "So you guys got a thang, rait?" Kevin did a pretty good western Carolina accent. "Make him move here, John. Make Mike move to Asheville," Brian said. "Whooa, dudes. I know you guys like Mike, and he likes you. But he has a job in New Orleans and not one here. Remember, Asheville was his *second* choice, not his first." "Yeah, but he's got reason now," Kevin said. "At least I hope he has." "Look, boys, let me handle my own life, will you, please? If Mike wants to move here, he'll move here, but it will be in time. Not over this weekend. We're going to get to know each other better, have some fun, eat some good food, and hang out. Okay?" "J, when I was packing, I left a baseball glove in the garage. It should be on a shelf with the other sports equipment. Will you bring that to me," Kevin asked. "Sure, if I remember to do it," I said. "I'm calling you tomorrow to remind you," Kevin said. "I spent more than a month breaking in that glove. I can't believe I forgot it." "So who's this Mike guy," Rudy asked. He was eating lunch with us. "He's a great guy, Rudy, and I know you'll like him. He's kind of old, but he's cool," Kevin said. "He's a doctor. What kind of doctor is he, Huck?" I wasn't sure who that "Huck" was directed at, but I answered anyway. "He's an endocrinologist. He does things with glands. Go figure." "I've got a glans he can do things with," Rudy said. We all laughed. Especially Chuck. "You're a cute one, aren't you," Chuck said to Rudy. "Yes, sir, I try to be," Rudy replied. "Y'all eat," Chuck said. "How's the lunch?" "Tastes like shit," Kevin said. "Well, if anyone should know what shit tastes like, you should," Chuck returned. "Yeah, cause I've eaten so many of your meals," Kevin said. The Dozens. "But you'd only know if it tasted like shit if you'd had the real thing." "Well, I've eaten Brian's ass enough to know what shit tastes like. That's for damn sure." "So why'd you always say it was like honey," Brian said. "'Cause compared to this, it was honey," Kevin said. "Ohhhhh, Kevin. You make an old Negro sad, honkey boy," Chuck said. "Oh, please! If that's your come-back, erase the tape. Chuck, I got you last, and you fucking know it. You can't lame-ass out of this one, dude." Chuck laughed. "Yeah, you got me last, Kevin. For the last time." "Why, Chuck? Are you dying?" There was excitement in Kevin's voice. "Slowly, my son," Chuck said. "Could you speed it up some, Chunk? I've got a horse to ride." "Oh, I forgot. You're on a horse's ass now. Forgive me." "No. I'm on Misty, not on you. You know that, boy." "'Boy' is especially offensive to us black men, Kevin. I thought I taught you not to hate men of color?" "You did, Chuck. You forced me to love you, and I do. So how about, 'You know that, girl'?" Kevin did a pretty good imitation of a black girl. "Oh, oh, oh, oh. This is so painful to me, Kevin, but you got me last." Brian and I laughed. Rudy sat there dazed by that display. "Rudy, honey, you had better get used to this kind of verbal dueling, if you're going to hang with these boys. It's called the Dozens, and it's something black people do. White people who don't know better think we're fighting, but we're showing affection for one another. It's a way of life in this fucking dysfunctional family." "I've already had a 'gotcha last,' Chuck," Rudy said. "This morning, and I didn't even realize what we were doing." "This Kevin boy has come along quite a bit, recently. You might hear them call me or each other 'nigger,' or 'darkie,' or 'colored boy,' but those are terms of endearment in the Dozens. If they called me 'nigger' in anger or spite, I'd whip their asses so fast they wouldn't even know what happened." "Don't forget alligator bait or chocolate drop, Chuck. Those are terms of derision we use sometimes," Brian said. "Oh, and there's 'spear chucker,' except he isn't strong enough to throw a spear, so we rarely use that one. Or how about 'coon'? You're crafty as a coon, so that's not really an insult. He's our He-Coon. He da boss He-Coon when the sun rises." "Shut the fuck up and eat your lunch before I feed it to the hogs," Chuck said. We all laughed. "So you guys really are a family, aren't you," Rudy asked. "We're so much a family that we kill outsiders who mess with us," Kevin said. "We're talking about my mama when we talk about Chuck. And Brian's mama, too, although we're really not quite sure where he came from." "Fuck you," Brian said. "Oh, how clever. How original. 'Fuck you.' Why didn't I think of that?" "No more Dozens, boys. No more. Until later, of course. Kevin, are you having a guest tomorrow," Chuck asked. "Yes, sir. She'll be here around ten." "Oh, Jesus, spare me. Okay. Lunch at 12:30. Will she be here for dinner?" "Yes, sir, I hope so." "No, she won't," Brian said. "Brian, what did I just say about the Dozens?" "Yes, sir, Chuck." "I'm going to let you figure out the after-dinner entertainment, Kevin, but I'll leave a home-made coffee cake and some home-made sausage biscuits in the fridge for breakfast. You go from there, man. You are a man, now, and that's the best I can do." "Thank you, Chuck. I really appreciate it. I hope I need all that stuff." "Me, too, Kevin. Me, too," Chuck said. After lunch, all three boys started to get up, but Chuck and I asked Kevin to stay. "What do y'all want," he asked. I thought his tone was hostile, but Chuck shrugged it off. "We want you to sit and talk with us, that's what we want. Is that okay with you, mister?" Chuck's tone was that of a parent with an errant child. "Yes, sir," he said. "Kevin, Calvin and John and I have been worried about you, lately. We think you might benefit from somebody outside the family to talk to." "Lou and I talk, Chuck." Kevin's tone was confused and hurt. "She's outside the family." Chuck put his hands on Kevin's hands, which Kevin had joined on the table before him. "I know you do, son, but she's not trained to do the kind of talking you need to do," Chuck said. "You want me to see a therapist, don't you?" "Yes, we do. We know a very good man in Asheville that we think can help you sort out some of your feelings, Huck," Chuck said. "You think I'm crazy, don't you, Chuck? And you, too, don't you, J?" "Oh, baby, don't make me have to cry," Chuck said. "You know if I thought you were crazy, I'd have had you in a straight jacket so fast it would make your head swim." Kevin laughed, and I did, too. "So, you don't think I'm a fucking lunatic?" "Now please don't be putting words in my mouth, Kevin," Chuck said. Kevin screamed with laughter. "You asshole." "You little shit. Calling your mama an asshole," Chuck said. "If the dildo fits, wear it," Kevin came back. "Okay, you got me last. This was supposed to be a serious conversation with you, but I see I let it get out of hand," Chuck said. "I actually agree with you for once, Chuck," Kevin said. "You guys, and Brian, of course, have been wonderful to me, but there's some stuff I just don't understand. I do need some help." Kevin started crying softly. "Like this shit. This crying. How many times have you seen me cry, Chuck? Huh? How many times have you seen me cry? In my whole life?" "Oh, maybe five or six, but I haven't seen it for a very long time." "How many times have *you* seen me cry, J? Be honest." "Probably a couple of dozen times," I said. "I haven't taken calculus yet, but can you guys do the math? I mean, I'm a fucking basket case. Shit." He cried some more. Chuck got him paper towels, and he blew his nose when he was through crying, like a tidal wave ripping through Galveston. "You guys..." "We know, baby. We know." Chuck's tone was that of a mother over a distressed child. "You know we love you, don't you?" "Yeah, I know it. Don't do that to me, Chuck. Please." Chuck was rubbing his shoulders. "Okay, baby. So you're okay with talking to somebody?" "Oh, yes. If he can make me happy again, and not so fucking sad all the time. Anything, Chuck." Chuck started crying then. "Oh, my sweet, sweet baby," Chuck said. He pulled Kevin to his chest and rocked him back and forth. "We want you to be happy, Kevin. More than anything." "Can I see him today," Kevin asked. "Please." "Hold on," Chuck said. He called Calvin's cell phone number. "Did you call that man? Pause. "Well, why the hell not? Don't you know one of our boys needs him immediately?" Pause. "Well, get your ass on the phone to him right now. I expect a call in five minutes. Do you hear me?" Pause. "Don't 'yes, sir' me. Do it." Pause. "I know you do, baby, and they love you, too. And you know I do. Now get on the phone. Or go over there, if you have to. I mean it, Calvin. It's gotta be today." Pause. "Okay, baby. 'Bye." Chuck came back to the table. "He hadn't called him," Chuck said in disgust. "I reminded him this morning, too." "Did you have your cock up his ass," Kevin asked. "You are a very cheeky little motherfucker, do you know that?" "You did, Chuck. You just gave yourself away," Kevin said. "Listen to me, boy. You know far, far too much about sex for a little boy your age. You hear me?" "Yes, sir, and I taught it all to myself." Chuck's demeanor changed. "Kevin, when this is all over, and you're happy again, I am going to whip me some Kevin-ass like it ain't never been whipped before. Do you hear me?" "Is that a promise? I have a witness," Kevin said. Chuck hit him hard on his shoulder. "You hurt your hand, didn't you," Kevin said. "You little shit-ass," Chuck said, and they both burst into riotous laughter. "Kevin...oh, shit," Chuck said after the laughter subsided. They looked at each other with the most genuine love I had seen in a long, long time. Calvin called back in about ten minutes. "Hello," Chuck said. Pause. "You did? What time?" Pause. "Okay, he'll be there." "Ask him if I can ride my horse to the appointment," Kevin said loud enough for Calvin to hear. "Calvin said, 'no, you can't ride your horse to the appointment. There's no parking for horses in downtown Asheville.'" "Well, shit," Kevin screamed for Calvin's benefit. "You tell that motherfucker Calvin that I love him and thanks." "Did you hear what he said," Chuck asked. Pause. "Yeah, but Brian is, too." Pause. "Yeah, I know." Pause. "Well, I love you, white boy. But you knew that. 'Bye." "What did he say at the end about Brian," Kevin demanded. "None of your fucking business. Your appointment is at four. John's flight is at four. You take him to the airport at 2:30, you do something with your sorry ass until four, and you show up at this place. The man's name is Dr. Spaulding. And he's seeing you as a special favor to Calvin, so you be truthful with him, you hear me? You spill your guts out. If you have to cry, you cry. Nobody holds that against a man anymore. Real men do cry, Kevin. Real men do cry. I think you've proved that for us." Kevin got up and hugged Chuck, and, once again, Kevin cried. I hurriedly packed for my trip to New Orleans to see Mike. I took three times more clothes than I would need, of course, as everyone does for a trip. Kevin dropped me off in my car at the airport at three o'clock, and then he went to see Dr. Spaulding. I forgot about him and Brian, Misty and Midnight, Chuck and Calvin, and even Finch, Inc. I was on my way to see my boyfriend, and I was so excited, I couldn't wait.