Date: Wed, 4 Jan 2023 10:23:17 +0100 From: Marin Giustinian Subject: Two in One SIn the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions, using the link https://donate.nifty.org/. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale. ---------- TWO IN ONE by Marin Giustinian ---------- Nowadays in Nova Scotia ---------- Mark had fled the cramped, excessively narrow life he had endured growing up in the sleepy little town of Baddeck, Nova Scotia, on the northern shore of the immense Bras d'Or lake. He needed excitement, freedom, and the intellectual stimulation he imagined he could find in London -- and he found it. Mark's parents were extremely openminded, yet set in their simple small town life. His older brother, Jack had from the start destined himself to take over the family boatyard and chandlery. His wife, Marlene, was the perfect housewife. They fostered two daughters before their son Timothy finally came along. Maybe Tim, Joe Sutherland's only grandson, was one of the reasons why it was easy for him to let his own son, Mark, go his way. Mark was the dreamer, the bookworm, and the keenest lad in the junior sail section of the Baddeck Yacht Club. During the summer of his fourteenth year, Mark enjoyed fucking Adrian and being fucked as well, and since he kept no secrets from neither his father nor his brother, he told them that he was gay. Daddy Joe's only reply was a big hug and a whisper in the ear saying, "Be careful, Son." Jack added, "I'll always stand by you, brother!" Subsequently, Mark's sexual preference was no secret. It was just never talked about. When Mark was in high school and later in Cape Breton University, he enjoyed other gay flings, but only for the fun, never for more. When Mark turned twenty-two, he left for London with a Bachelors degree in English. There he seduced Percy Winthrop in a pub. Wasn't difficult. Three months later they were living and fucking together in Percy's rather posh flat in Chelsea, taking care of Mark, even a bit too much. Percy was a spoiled aristocrat's son living off of his father's money, vaguely studying at the The London School of Economics and Political Science. Mark didn't study. He wrote all day long and partied with Percy at night. After two years of hard work, his first book, a gay tragedy between two student lovers at Cambridge, separated by the First World War, was published. It turned out to be a best seller. His editor even negotiated rights for a film. He was suddenly rich and becoming famous. Consequently, Mark's success peeved Percy. Mark had always been Percy's trophy. Now Percy was in Mark's shadow. Mark had his own money and drew his own attention in London's high society. Percy's supremacy deteriorated with Mark's television appearances, his book signings and of course, the shooting of the film. Percy, plagued with jealousy, was making Mark's life unbearable... Mark called his brother, Jack. "I'm unhappy, Jack. I'm leaving Percy. I want to come home... I hate London! I want to find a boat and become a water gypsy." "Do you have money? If not, I can..." Mark stopped him. "I've got money, more than necessary, brother! That's no problem. The problem is my soul. I feel it's damaged... These past years in London have been too much, way too much for a small town guy like me." "I thought you sought success, sex, and big city life..." "I sought it and I found it, but now I'm empty and I don't love Percy. I don't love his ways, his kind of people..." Jack heard his little brother on the verge of weeping. "Jack, tell me you love me..." pled Mark. "I love you, Mark! You know I love you and of course I want you back, Mark! We all do. We've missed you ever since you ran away! Ha!" "I didn't run away!" retorted Mark, "I followed my heart... Now I want to come back to you and the family..." "Mom and Dad are going to have a 'joy stroke', and Tim's going to have an orgasm! You're his idol, Mark!" "Nice kid... He's the only one of your babes you and Marlene have left in the house now, if I'm not mistaken." "Both our girls are married and gone, Susan to Vancouver and Mary to Toronto. I'm soon going to be a grandfather... and, yes, Tim's still around." "Is he gay like I said he would be?" "That's his business, Mark!" "Of course..." Mark's spirits were lighter. He and Jack went on talking about everything and nothing for nearly an hour. "Listen, brother, as soon as you have your date of arrival, I'll take the day off at the chandlery and drive to meet your plane at Halifax Stanfield. It'll be my honour to bring you back to us! Don't make us wait too long! Love you, man -- Love you a lot!" ---------- Within two weeks Mark had settled his business in London. He booked a one way Signature class passage to Halifax direct with Air Canada. He then had a long talk with his editor. He told her his problem. She encouraged him to do what he needed to do. He thanked her for everything and promised her he'd send her another manuscript in due time. She assured him that the money will still be coming in. Mark felt relieved. Next, he had to settle things with Percy. He bluntly told Percy that it was over between them and that he was returning to Canada. Percy had a fit, Mark told him to behave like a gentleman, and then they fucked like maniacs for old times' sake. The following days they squared up what they owed each other, haggled a bit, wept, and fucked some more. Mark finished his packing, leaving a lot behind. He reserved a hotel room near Heathrow for the evening before take off. The day came for him to leave. He called a cab. Percy followed him to the door. Mark simply said, "Good-bye", the cab drove off. That night by himself, Mark slept like a child. The following morning he calmly went through check in and boarded flight AC869 to Halifax. Once airborne, Mark's mind went blank. He just stared out the window at the endless sky and let his soul wander. He didn't know if he wanted to weep or laugh, facing himself for the first time absolutely alone. "More coffee, Sir?" inquired the handsome young cabin attendant leaning over Mark's shoulder. Mark smiled, saying, "Yes please, black..." Musing to himself, Mark smiled, "That's right... I'm closer to heaven up here with an angel in uniform filling my cup, Ha!" The angel went on helping others as Mark once more stared out the window. He was feeling weightless, as if his body was lost somewhere in an insignificant dream. "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll soon be landing in... Mesdames, Messieurs, nous decendons sur Halifax..." blared the captain over the intercom. Fifty minutes later, Mark was in Jack's arms. ---------- During the long drive to Baddeck, Mark continued to stare out the window. Jack left his little brother alone, sensing the storm of emotions Mark was experiencing. Then Mark spoke. "Five years aren't much... and yet they're a lot. You don't look any different, Jack... Do I?" "You're still the best looking dude God has put on this planet, Mark... A bit weary perhaps, but still gorgeous... at least for me." "Why are you so nice to me, brother?" "Because I love you, dimwit!" "Percy was never nice to me..." uttered Mark. "Maybe he didn't love you after all," replied Jack, driving. "He didn't even love himself!" "Do you love yourself, Mark?" After a long silence, Mark replied, "I think I'm beginning to..." Suddenly, he leaned over and gave his big brother a quick kiss on the cheek. They were still laughing as they drove up the Sutherland's driveway on Water Street.

---------- When Clare Sutherland, better known a Mama Clare, opened the door and saw her baby boy standing there, she couldn't speak. She just held him in her arms for several long seconds before letting him go. Then she uttered, "Come on in, you two rascals!" While their mother was taking care of her baby boy, Jack carried Mark's luggage up to his room and opened the window. Fresh air off the lake flowed in, filling the room. He dashed back down. "I've got to go now. See you both tomorrow for lunch at our house with Marlene and Tim," reminded Jack, leaving. "Great! Thanks again for..." "For what? It was all my pleasure, brother!" Mama Clare prepared a light snack for her boy, now yawning with a bit of jet lag. She finally let him go up to his room and take a bath before Daddy Joe came home. Mark's boyhood room hadn't changed. He went over to the window and gazed at the summer afternoon light sparkling on the distant water. He then stripped, drew a bath, and relaxed in a mass of scented suds. He remembered his first jack off with his little friend, Adrian, both of them twelve at the time. They had naughty boy fun together in that very same bathtub -- sweet memories. He dried off, dressed, and unpacked, rediscovering the smell of freshness and lavender in the closets, the sounds of summer through the open window. He heard his father drive up, returning from the boatyard, slamming the car door, as usual. He was happy to be back home. Downstairs, Daddy Joe hugged and patted Mark on the back so hard that he nearly was bruised. "Welcome back, boy! You look dreadful but you smell good! I think we need a drink now, don't we?" "You're always right, Dad!" During 'happy hour', there was a lot of small talk, memories, and discreet questioning about his book. They had to get used to each other again. They dined early. Jet lag then hit Mark hard. He made his way upstairs, stripped, peed, and slipped under the covers, finally feeling the weight of his body as he sank into a warm summer night's sleep back home. ---------- Mark joined his parents at breakfast. Mark filled in his parents about everything that had happened in London... everything. "We're proud of your success but you sound unhappy, Son..." stated Daddy Joe. "I'll feel better soon, Dad." "I'm sure you will, my boy. It's really good to have you back, damn good... And what are you going to do now?" "I want to buy a local-built wooden boat and spend some time sailing down the coast, maybe even attempting to live year around aboard. I need to move, not feel tied down, and get my wits back together again to write and write and write some more!" "That might sound crazy to stupid people, but if that's what you need, then do it," replied Daddy Joe. Mama Clare simply said, "Mark, you're too complicated." "I'm on my way to simplicity, Mom. That's why I came back home." Mark's mother replied, giving her son a caress on the cheek, "Well, good for you! Now I've got things to do and then I'm going to church." "What do you have planned for the morning, Son?" "I'm going to take a walk around the waterfront. Maybe find my dreamboat for sale... Who knows?" "Your Daddy Joe knows, boy... Go down to the docks at the angle of Ross Street. There's a proper looking 36' Tancook Schooner for sale. Check her out. She came in last year and was put on sale. She's still available... might do. I guess you're rich now..." "I've got enough, Dad." "If you say so! See you at lunch... and by the way, Jack is really happy you're back. Don't forget, he and Marlene are having us over for lunch at their place." ---------- Jack and Marlene's traditional wooden home was in the same neighbourhood. It was freshly painted blue and white, surrounded by a perfectly kept lawn. Mark arrived, with a bouquet of roses for Marlene, immediately followed by his parents. They rang the doorbell. Marlene opened. "Oh, Mark! You're a love! Do come in! Daddy Joe, Mama Clare, you look really happy to have Mark back!" "We are, dear," confirmed Mama Clare. They joined Jack in the living room. The parent sat, Mark hugged Jack. "Tim did our meal today. He loves to cook. I think you can be proud of your nephew," announced Jack. Mark inquired, "What grade will he be in?" "He graduated two weeks ago, Mark. He's already eighteen," sharply replied Marlene. "Already!" Just then, Tim came into the living room. "Hello Uncle Mark! Welcome back! Lunch is on the table everybody." Mark couldn't believe that the awkward, nerdy little lad of thirteen he had known was now an absolutely gorgeous young male, not quite yet a man, but still... Tim had set the table with place cards. His seat was next to Mark. They all took place, complimenting Tim. Jack said to Mark, "Your nephew's a keen scholar, and a promising cook, but he's not in a hurry to earn a degree nor find a job!" "He's got time, Jack!" exclaimed Daddy Joe. Tim blushed. Daddy Joe asked, "Did you go take a look at the schooner I told you about, Mark?" "Yes, I did..." "And what did you think about her, Son?" "It's weird. She looks just like my dreamboat..." "Well, you said you were looking for your dreamboat. So your father told you where she is! Ha!" joked Daddy Joe. "I jotted down the number. I'll call for an appointment this evening." "And where would you sail away to?" inquired Jack. "For the time being, I'd just enjoy the lake, linger around an island or two, then cut through the canal and go down the coast. Maybe spend the winter in Shelburne. The bay down there is ice free." The ladyfolk looked bored; Daddy Joe and Jack were politely listening; Tim was looking at Mark dreamy-eyed, drinking every word. "Boys, your lunch is getting cold!" reminded Mama Clare. ---------- That evening, Mark called concerning the schooner. "Hello..." "Mark Sutherland speaking. I'm the son of Joe Sutherland, the owner of the boatyard, and I'm interested in the Tancook schooner you have up for sale." "Mark Sutherland, you say?" "Yes... and you?" "I'm Paul Thompson, Adrian's brother." "Paul! Goodness gracious! It's been ages! Tell me how's Adrian doing?" "He's fine. Married and settled down in Ottawa. He's working in a bank. The last I heard about you, you were living in London, England." "I'm back... When can we take a look at your boat?" "First of all, it's not mine. It was my father-in-law's. My wife inherited it and doesn't want to keep it." "I understand. How old is the boat?" "She was built in Chester Basin only twenty years ago. I've got a complete file on her. But let me warn you, my father-in-law was a history buff on Nova Scotian boat building. He had this boat built just like they were during their heyday at the turn of the last century and there's no motor aboard. Are you still interested?" "Absolutely!" "Good! That usually scares everybody off. So, if you want, we can meet at the boat tomorrow morning." "I'll bring my father along. He's the expert." "That would be an honour!" "What time?" "Ten o'clock. Will that do?" "Perfect, Paul. See you then. Nice talking with you!" "Likewise, Mark." ---------- Boats are funny things to acquire or get rid of. Some people spend months looking for their dream boat, others just stumble upon her as if she was meant for them. Mark never dared imagine that the boat he wanted was simply waiting for him in his home town. Mark was born into a boatsman's world. The Sutherland boatyard had been in the family since 1937. Daddy Joe was the third generation running it. Jack and Marlene ran the chandler shop and later would probably handle the yard as well. By the age of fifteen, Mark was an accomplished sailor. He knew his ropes, and loved sailing as much as he loved reading novels. He might have been interested in the boatyard if it handled only wooden boats. Now boats are mostly made out of plastic. The smell of epoxy resin made Mark sick. ---------- The following morning, Daddy Joe and Mark found Paul aboard the schooner. Entering the boat, Mark liked the smell -- no odour of diesel fuel. He and his father went over the boat from mast to bilge. She seemed to be in good shape. Mark noted that there was no needless electronic devices aboard. Even brass oil lamps were there for night light. There was one solar charged battery aboard for the running lights and feeding a cellphone. Ample storage space was provided. There weren't bunks galore, only a double bed in the bow behind the mizen mast. Between the masts, the space was open, no bulkheads. Deck prisms shed a soft rainbow light over the central table and the upholstered lateral benches. The starboard side galley had a brass hand pump, feeding a porcelain sink neighbouring a cast iron wood stove, both for cooking and heat. The firewood bin was under the aft deck beside the companionway. A slicker locker was on the other side, next to a spacious chart desk. The layout suited Mark, however, there was some refurbishing work to be done inside and out. A thorough paint job was needed and the queen-size mattress had to be changed. Mark could handle the painting, preparing the surfaces, scraping and sanding. He could have a mattress delivered, and if needs be, the crew at the boatyard could lend a hand. Otherwise, the rigging seemed to be in good shape, and the sails were new, as well as the inflatable tender. The ground tackle was perfect with two anchors, chains and mooring lines. The security equipment was also up to date. The overall impression was good. Daddy Joe asked, "Paul, can I have your boat towed over to the yard, hoist her out of the water, and take a look at the underside, check the rudder, the caulking, the antifouling, etc." "No problem, Joe..." "After that, I'll compare your price with my appraisal and leave it up to my son to make a deal or not with you. How does that sound?" "Sounds fine to me," replied Paul. "Good! Now Mark, you get Tim to help you. Tomorrow morning, you two come over here with the work Zodiac and tow the schooner to our travel-lift. Paul, can you be here at 9:00 AM to oversee the job?" "No problem." Then Daddy Joe instructed Mark, saying, "And I'll meet Tim and you at the boatyard at 10:00 AM." Things were clear! As they were leaving, Mark told Paul to give Adrian his best regards. Daddy Joe drove back to the boatyard. Mark walked, stopping by Jack's house. Tim was there. "Tim, can you come with me to the boatyard tomorrow morning at 8:30? We've got to tow a boat over to the travel lift." "Sure... but why?" replied Tim. "It's to inspect the schooner I might buy." ---------- Tim was right on time. As they came up to the schooner, Tim was very impressed and amazed that she had no motor. "You mean you're ready to buy a boat without an auxiliary engine?" "Yes I am, Tim! In fact a sailboat without a motor smells good, she's ecological, and far more elegant than the run of the mill plastic stuff afloat today." "Uncle Marc, do you know that two summers ago, I went on a week long sailing course aboard a big restored fishing schooner without a motor leaving out of North Sydney? We didn't go far. We knew when we left but didn't know when we would get back! That was fun!" exclaimed Tim. "That's another reason to prefer depending only on the will of the wind!" "Uncle Mark, you are completely... completely unique!" They towed the boat over to the travel-lift and placed her in the slings. Daddy Joe had her lifted out of the water and put onto a cradle. He inspected the underside, finding her hull sound. According to Daddy Joe, she was a work of art, but needed care. He estimated her worth at forty-six thousand Canadian dollars and not fifty-four like Paul requested. They left the schooner in her cradle. Mark drove a hard deal with Paul pointing out the fact that with no motor she could never be sold. He offered forty-four thousand cash. Paul accepted. Mark registered her under the name Bel Ami, French for Beautiful Friend. Mark began working on Bel Ami, and of course, Tim immediately showed up. "Uncle Mark, If you need help, I'm free!" offered Tim, smiling. "I can use your help, Tim, but I don't pay well," joked Mark. "Being with you is pay enough, Uncle Mark!" "That's nice of you to say that, but won't you be needing money for your studies this coming fall?" "I have no studies in view...". Mark preferred not insisting. "Do you have old work clothes at home?" Tim nodded. "Can you be here this afternoon?" "No problem..." "Okay... We'll start by scraping below the waterline. It's always best to start by cleaning up what's invisible." "It would help a lot in life if we could first clean up what's invisible with people!" commented Tim. "Wow! You're as wise as you are good looking, Tim!" "Don't flatter me, Uncle Mark! It might go to my head! Will two o'clock be alright?" "Two's fine, Tim. Thanks!" Mark smiled as he admired Tim hasten away, light as a young buck deer, his flaxen hair dancing in the sun. ---------- For the following three weeks, Mark and Tim worked together, side by side. They both seemed to be able to read each other's minds in a kind of uncanny togetherness. For Tim, it seemed natural that they get along with each other like they did. For Mark, having experienced more of life's backlashes than his nephew, such mutual harmony was, of course, a bit more unusual. Tim was in heaven. He had always craved adult men's attention. Having been blessed -- or cursed -- by his stunningly androgynous allure, Tim was exposed to a lot of lewd behaviour from older males. His school mates constantly teased him and the girls either shunned him by sheer jealousy or found an accomplice in his effeminacy. With Mark, he was neither a prey nor a misfit, he was family... July became August and work on Bel Ami was coming to an end. As they were cleaning up the cockpit, Tim uttered, "I guess you'll be leaving soon, Uncle Mark... Do you plan to sail Bel Ami singlehanded?" "If someone's meant to fall into my boat, he'll fall. If not, I'm not scared to man Bel Ami alone." Tim suddenly collapsed flat in the cockpit, right at Mark's feet. "Good God!" yelled Mark kneeling, shaking Tim by the shoulders. Opening his eyes, grinning, Tim exclaimed, "You see, Uncle Mark, since I was meant to fall in your boat, I fell!" "Scamp!" shouted Mark. "Keep me with you, please!" "Impossible!" "Why?" argued Tim. "Because... because, I've got to think about it first." "Don't think, just say yes!" "It's not that simple... We need to talk about that with the family." "Don't be complicated! Can't you see I'm on my knees begging you to say YES, Uncle Mark?" "Get up!" exclaimed Mark, laughing as he pulled Tim to his feet. "Take me with you, Uncle Mark..." "God you're stubborn! Listen, come to the house this evening with your father and mother for happy hour. We'll see what Daddy Joe and your folks have to say about you leaving with me." ---------- Jack and Tim showed up without Marlene. Entering, Jack said, "Good evening, Dad, Mark... Tim told his mother that she didn't have to come. He explained that we were going to talk about men stuff -- so she stayed home, fixing dinner." Daddy Joe replied, "Come on in. Mark here says we've got to study an idea your son has on his mind." "That's right, Sir," immediately replied Tim. They went into the living room. The three men sat. Tim remained standing by the mantle. Daddy Joe asked, "So what do you have to tell us, Tim?" "Listen, since I've been working on Bel Ami with Uncle Mark, I've learned a lot -- and above all, I'm learning to love him more and more. He's read the books I love, he's showed me things on how to keep a wooden boat shipshape, and he's listened to my questions about London, about his ex-boyfriend, and about life in general. Not only did he listen to my questions, but he even answered them. That really changed me from school. Bel Ami, is like him: no nonsense, clear, and beautiful. So when I asked if he was planning to sail alone he replied, 'If the right fellow falls in my boat, maybe he can stay...' So I fell. I want to sail Bel Ami with Uncle Mark and be his mate..." Mark took over, "I said we had to discuss that question in the family. That's why I didn't say yes right away." "And why?" Daddy Joe bluntly asked. "Tim hasn't made up his mind for his future; he hasn't even looked for furthering his education or getting a job. Taking him aboard would be a big responsibility and..." "And so what, Son? I think it's about time you assumed some responsibility! You are dumb as dirt imagining you can strike out on a schooner, on our coast, with no motor, singlehanded. Don't leave Tim behind when he could save your life. The boy's craving to be your mate! Wake up, Son! You absolutely need him aboard. You can get stuck on a shoal, or get bashed up on the rocks! You name it. Tim's a damn good sailorboy. He's at the right age to do the job! He's a sweet, clever young man and cooks like a chef! Have I been clear?" Mark glanced up at Tim standing steadfast as an oak, then at Jack. Jack simply nodded. Mark felt stuck. He started to say something right when Daddy Joe spoke up again. "Son, it's your duty to help your nephew grow up to be like you. He's queer as a three dollar bill, just like you. He just hasn't said so yet. You know better than anybody that it's not easy growing up as a homo. Am I correct?" Mark nodded. "And you, Tim, am I right?" repeated Daddy Joe. "Yes, Sir." "Mark, Timothy, neither of you care about fucking women, having a family like Jack and myself -- and it's both your right. I've kept an eye on you two these past weeks working together at the boatyard. You share the same soul!" "Dad, I just wanted to..." "Mark, don't disagree! He'll be a great partner for you, and you need a real parter, and you, Tim, do you need Mark?" Tim looked at his father. His father replied, "Speak your mind, Son." "Yes, I need him, but only if he needs me." There was a moment of dense silence. Everybody's eyes were focused on Mark. "Tim, I know from experience that your grandfather is always right and my brother's right most of the time," softly said Mark, adding, "Tomorrow we're going to drive over to Sydney, get ourselves outfitted, and purchase stuff to equip Bel Ami for the two of us." "Good God! Thank you, Uncle Mark, I'm so..." "Hold on there," interrupted Mark, "Tim, since we've been declared partners, just call me Mark. Okay?" "Okay, Mark." Beaming, Daddy Joe stood. "Tim, pour us four glasses of whiskey. I've got a toast to make." "Four glasses, Sir?" "I said FOUR!" The glasses were poured. Daddy Joe, raised his and said, "To our sailor boys! May they follow their star! Mark you've got another best seller to write and Tim, you've got to take care of Mark so he can do a damn better job this time... I want a real male romance story!" "And I drink to Bel Ami! Don't sink her!" added Jack. Tim coughed as they downed their whiskies laughing. Suddenly Mama Clare appeared in the door and declared, "Don't you get that boy drunk in there! It's time for supper. Now Jack and Tim, go home and stop making Marlene wait." Jack and Tim obeyed. Daddy Joe took Mark by the arm on their way to the dining room, saying, "You'll be happy the two of you, you'll see." Not really knowing why, those words made Mark feel soft inside. He wondered if... but he gave up. He knew his father was right. Percy had never been a partner. He was a good fuck; he had money; he had taught Mark how to succeed in society... Percy was a high society convenience, that's all he was. Yes, Daddy Joe was absolutely right. That night, alone in his room, Mark recalled the spicy tingle of lust he felt when he and Tim glanced at each other, smiling. The evident simplicity of such togetherness was changing Mark's ways. He was used to playing the ageless game of seducing and being hard to seduce. As a teen, then as a student, he had become an expert player. As far as sex was concerned, he was always the one in charge. He was the one who fucked or decided to be fucked. With Tim, the game seemed totally absurd." ---------- The next day Mark and Tim went shopping in Sydney. They first bought adequate sea attire for their trip. Then they went to the Walmart Super Centre for cooking utensils and tableware. After that they chose their bedding" "Any problem about sharing the same bed?" asked Mark. "Not at all. I'm more than glad," replied Tim giving Mark a nudge in the shoulder. They gathered their loot and checked out. Once back aboard Bel Ami, Tim and Mark equipped the galley and made their bed. Tim jumped on it and held out his arms, giggling with glee. Mark fell on him and gave him a lover's kiss on the lips. Tim gasped, then opened his mouth. Their tongues met. Tim blushed, beaming! "Tomorrow we put Bel Ami back in the water." ---------- The day before their departure they double-checked the charts, the water, the firewood, the food, etc. They had equipment for fishing and making any minor repairs needed along the way. Nothing was neglected concerning their safety and comfort. That evening, alone with his parents at the dinner table, Tim quietly said, "Mark and I are finally ready. We kissed -- I'm happy!" "We'll always stand by you, Tim. Be gentle with each other. That's all I can say," stated Jack. Marlene nodded. That night, sprawled nude in his bed, Tim gently stroked his elegant uncut cock until he tensed, gushing hot semen into his fist. He then brought the creamy fluid to his lips wondering if Mark's tasted the same. He turned out the lights falling asleep with a sticky smile adorning his lips, praying that the night be brief. ---------- At 8:30 AM Sunday, Tim and Mark arrived at the boatyard with the family. Tim jumped onboard and tossed their sea bags in the cabin. Then back on the pier they gave everybody a big hug. Daddy Joe said, "Stay gone as long as you want... maybe I should say as long as you need... Am I clear?" "Very clear," stated Mark, smiling at Tim. "Good, now get underway and call when you want!" Jack was smiling; Marlene was wiping a stay tear; Daddy Joe and Mama Clare were waving as they watched their lads cast off. Bel Ami drifted away from the pier. Mark hoisted the mainsail while Tim took care of the jib. Bel Ami swerved a bit sideways to the breeze. While Tim hoisted the mizen and staysail Bel Ami slightly heeled and headed into the morning sun. As they were crossing the lake at the easy pace of three knots, Tim unpacked and stashed their clothes. He then prepared sandwiches for lunch. He looked through a porthole at the gliding water and wiped a tear of joy off his smooth cheek. He had never been so happy. Then he hasted topside to join Mark at the tiller. "Want to take over, Tim?" "With pleasure!" Life was good. ---------- It was close to five in the afternoon when Mark and Tim decided to drop anchor in between the Crammond Islands. The shimmering waters mirrored the afternoon sun. No house nor boat was in view. They were alone on earth. "What about a little swim and some sun?" suggested Mark, stripping. "Nude?" "Nude!" In a flash, holding hands they counted, "One, two, three!" and leapt overboard laughing. They swam, grabbing each other, laughing, groping cocks, and stealing kisses. When they climbed back into the cockpit, shivering a bit, Tim quickly went down to fetch a towel. "You're even more beautiful naked," said Tim as he rubbed Mark, front and back. "And so are you, Tim. Even your cock is perfect." "You like my cock? Look, it's perking up just for you..." giggled Tim tossing the towel to Mark. "Just for me? I'm honoured!" Tim giggled, looking at Mark's cock hardening up as well. Tim dared touching it. "Hmm," purred Mark. "We've got another hour or two of good sun. Let's get some tan," suggested Tim. "You're really pale. I'll go get the sunscreen." Tim and Mark slathered each other all over and then laid down on the warm deck side by side, touching. Tim abandoned himself to the sun, his silky young pits emanating an enticing spicy scent. Mark's foot played with Tim's as they relaxed there in silence. Slowly, Tim turned, facing Mark. Gently, his hand found Mark's erection. Mark then slid his hand between Tim's legs. Tim immediately opened his thighs. Their kisses became a bit breathless as precum oozed out of the slits. Suddently Tim released Mark's cock, slid down, and licked its tip. "You taste like me..." whispered Tim. Mark spun around and licked Tim's moist cock as well. They began to suck each other, humming under the hot summer sun, relishing each other's cock. Mark twirled his tongue around Tim's glans. Tim gagged a little as he tried to swallow Mark's eager thrusts. They kneaded each other's buttocks. Mark slid his fingertip into Tim's ass. Suddenly, Tim shivered and then shot several mind-blasting surges of sweet semen down Mark's thirsty throat. Mark too exploded, experiencing perhaps the most meaningful orgasm in his life. Catching their breath, they sat, holding on to each other. After a minute of two Tim started giggling. "Mark, I saw stars!" "For a simple blowjob, that was incredible. You are incredible..." "Me?" "Yes, you. Tim, you in my throat. Me in your mouth. You and me -- us. We are incredible. The cum we swallowed is our covenant..." uttered Mark. Leaping to his feet, Tim jumped overboard, laughing, followed by Mark, splashing a fountain of diamond droplets in the late afternoon light. As he dressed, Tim said, "I'm going to light the stove, whip together a lamb stew, and let it simmer during happy hour." "Brilliant idea!" replied Mark, pulling up his shorts. While Tim was busy in the galley, Mark turned on the mast light, called the weather forecast and noted 'Evening, calm, variable winds force 1 / Monday, overcast with rain, winds Northeast force 3 to 4 / Tuesday, clearing skies and moderate breeze from the East, force 2 to 3...' "According to the weather, we'll be better off here until Tuesday morning," informed Mark. "That's fine with me. We'll have time to get to know each other better," winked Tim, uncorking the wine. "Tim, you're an angel!" "I'm your partner, not an angel. That's who I am!" The wine was sweet, the dinner, delicious, and Tim was even more beautiful in the setting sunlight. While they were doing the dishes together, Mark asked, "May I ask you to tell me about your experience in sex when we're done?" Tim replied, giggling, "That won't take too much time! We can first finish the wine and talk in bed." "I've got a better idea. We can finish the wine in bed..." "Yesss!" They sponge-bathed each other and when they were all smooth and clean, Mark and Tim emptied the last glass of wine, sitting nude on the bed. Mark put the glass away and lit a candle. Tim cuddled up to Mark and began his story. "You remember me telling you about my sailing course out of North Sydney? Well that summer was full of laughter, cum, and unkept promises. All happened aboard the boat. I was just sitting at the bow by myself looking at the water when he came up and sat beside me. He was handsome -- even very handsome -- with long blondish hair, almost touching his shoulders. He was the crew member in charge of our living quarters under deck. He fascinated me. He said he had noticed me and liked my looks. I said I had noticed him too and liked his looks as well. He then put an arm around my shoulder. I thought that was very kind of him. Then with the other hand, he rubbed my thigh. Well, one thing led to another. He said he wanted to kiss me. I said why not. Then he put his hand in my shorts and stroked my very hard cock. I shot off in seconds. He licked his hand, looking straight in my eyes. God! That was sexy! After that, we met every night in the rope locker. He sucked me dry. I sucked him. It was fun. He put his finger in my hole while he sucked, like you did. It was fantastic! I exploded, like I did with you. We promised we'd be friends forever. I was happy. Then when the cruise was over and I was in the bus coming back home, he sent me a text. It said that what we did was fun, but it's over and that we should never try to get in touch with each other again. Where in the hell was his promise for us to always be friends? A promise is sacred. He degraded and disgraced the wonderful, natural fun we shared. I was angry. I guess he was simply fucked up in his head!" "Not only him! They're a lot like him in the world... And after that?" inquired Mark. "After that, I was sure I was gay. I counted on my right hand, made love with myself, and avoided complicated people. When the family talked about you and about you being gay, I sort of fell in love with you from afar, as with an idol, an icon, a hero. And when I saw you, I fell for good!" Mark said nothing. "Why are you so quiet?" "I'm deeply touched by what you said... more than I can say right now." There was another moment of silence. Whispering, Tim then asked, "Could you tell me about your own sex life too?" Mark took his time before responding. "I guess I owe you... I'll be brief and straight to the point. Between the age of twelve and twenty-two I masturbated like a maniac, fucked and was fucked as much as possible, with guys, old and young, even some girls too. Then in London, I met Percy in a pub. His class, his good looks, his money lured me into thinking that I loved him... at least he said he loved me and I believed it... but something was missing. I didn't know what. I still don't... Whatever, sex became a bore. The game was over and love was never there. I was a success in my work, but my heart was a disaster -- and my ass and cock were nearly numb. We fucked by habit. That was really sad." Mark thought for a long moment. Tim waited... "So I decided that the comedy was over. My soul was wounded, hurt and empty. I realised I had always run away from myself. Deep down inside, I had never felt love for myself and if I couldn't love myself, I could never love and be loved by another. So I came back home -- and then you showed up in my life -- and here we are!" Tim was silent. The candle was almost out. "Mark?" whispered Tim. "Yes..." "Mark, do you love yourself now?" "I think so..." "You said that drinking each other's cum was our covenant." "I said that because it just wasn't shooting off. Something special was happening when we gave ourselves to each other. I already felt our connection before we drank each other... I had never 'given' myself for real. With you, you didn't try to prove yourself with sex. You just let it happen because you were giving your heart to me with your cock..." "And I know you gave me your heart that way too, Mark." "How do you know?" "I know it because I felt it." Mark was silenced by what Tim had just said. It struck him deep down inside. He was short of words. Tim concluded, "I'm tired. It's been a very big day! Now I want to fall asleep in your arms. Tomorrow and after tomorrow and for a lot of tomorrows to come, we'll discover a lot more of what can happen between us, in us, making life more beautiful with our cocks, our hearts, our asses, and our silences. Now, I've got to go topside and pee! Don't you?" Together, shoulder to shoulder, Mark and Tim giggled like schoolboys, crossing their piss streams, shattering the shimmering moonlight, mirrored on the waters. ---------- It was close to six in the morning when Mark cautiously slipped out of bed, paying attention to not awaken his bedmate, still snuggled up to him. He went up on the deck. The sky was overcast with a faint glow in the east. The breeze was stiff. He tied a bucket on the end of a rope and dropped it into the lake. Sitting on the bucket, he relieved his bowels and emptied the bucket overboard. Then he drew some more water and washed his ass before returning inside. While Mark was kindling the stove, Tim woke up. He got out of bed, asking, "Mark, what do you do when you have to take a shit on Bel Ami?" Mark rapidly explained. Tim immediately understood the process. When he came back down, he hugged Mark from behind. "Making coffee?" "It'll be ready in a minute. I've just lit the stove and put the kettle on." "Let's get back to bed until the water boils. I still need more cuddling with you!" Mark grabbed Tim and threw him on the bed, kissing him all over from the neck to the navel. Tim screamed, laughed, wiggling to free himself. "Stop!" squealed Tim. "I can't stop! You are IRRESISTIBLE, Tim! Gorgeously irresistible." "Is that so?" squealed Tim, "Hang on!" Tim, nimble as a ferret, slipped out from under Mark, and ferociously tickled him, gripping him, tormenting him with all his force. Mark howled, tossed to and fro, begging Tim to stop. Both, out of breath, collapsed, Tim on top of Mark. Both were erect. They kissed, making out until the kettle began to hiss. Jumping off Mark, Tim declared, "I'm going to make breakfast!" Tim had a brought with him an old sweater long enough to skimpily cover his pert round bottom. Mark gazed at Tim's grace doing such a banal job as making coffee, frying eggs, and toasting bread in the little oven. The cabin was now warm and cozy and both were famished. Mark too pulled a cardigan on, free balling as well. He and Tim sat facing each other, devouring their breakfast, exchanging knowing smiles. "Mark, do I hear rain on the deck?" "Yes, you do..." "I guess we'll stay in then," replied Tim, shrugging. "Yeah... I guess we'll have to stay in." "More coffee?" asked Tim, holding up the pot. "Please" "We can cuddle in bed. Keep warm, save firewood," suggested Tim. "Good idea, and if we stay naked we can save doing laundry too." "Good thinking, Mark!. Yes, I think it would be nice to just stay in bed -- together -- naked," added Tim, giggling. "And the dishes?" asked Mark. "I'll get them done in a jiffy!" "I'll help you!" "Then I'll brush my teeth..." smiled Tim. "Me too..." "And then we'll see what happens!" ---------- Time seemed to expand in the dawning hours. Tim and Mark's laughter softened into lusty silence as their hearts began to throb in their chests. All was clear -- no haste -- no thought -- only blissful abandon. Both revelled in kissing, licking, smelling each other's most intimate recesses of flesh: the crease behind an ear, the nape of the neck, an opened armpit. Moving together as if underwater, their hands wandered, caressing, exploring, squeezing. Tim licked Mark's vibrant cock, then his perineum, and returned to savour his glans, gleaming with slick. Mark massaged Tim's glutes, then licked the silken skin inside his thighs, his balls. His rampant tongue rimmed Tim's winking anus, prodded it, driving him mad discovering electric sensations. Tim followed suit, separating the cleft of Mark's rump, licking the gluteal crease, delicately slipping a fingertip in the yearning hole. Mark's tongue seemed to enter Tim's anus. Tim's cock oozed, he moaned, as he inserted his index deep inside Mark. Mark moaned as his ass loosened, nearly expanding, begging to be filled. Slithering, nimble as quicksilver, Tim flipped around, lifted Mark's thigh, positioning the tip of his cock. Mark's hole was quivering. He pulled his glutes apart. With the abundant presence of saliva, precum, and anal fluids, Tim's glans broke through, sinking into Mark. Both gasped. Ineffable waves of delight flooded their united flesh. Mark grasped Tim, holding him tight from behind, pushing back. His most intimate ass muscles massaged Tim's throbbing erection. Nature took over. Tim neither pushed nor pulled, he undulated entering a bit deeper with each surge, thrilling Mark's body beyond reason. Mark was lost in a riptide of rapture, moving in perfect harmony with Tim. Long moments later, Tim began to quake, then tremble. He panted, drooling. He clawed Mark, nibbling his shoulder. Then suddenly, on the verge of fainting, he began to lurch, blasting jet after jet of spewing semen deep into Mark's vibrant flesh. Neither moved. Catching their breath, they seemed to dissolve one into the other. Spent, exhausted and smiling, they slowly came back to earth. Tim's cock lazily slipped out as Mark turned. Then with infinite tenderness, they shared the most meaningful kiss that had ever existed. Tim hummed, then whispered, "I think I know what's going to happen later." "Me too..." uttered Mark, stretching like a cat. The wind had picked up, splattering curtains of rain against Bel Ami. The motion of the boat was tense as she pulled on her anchor chain. "Shouldn't we check if we're holding?" inquired Tim rolling over on Mark. "You're right..." replied Mark, slipping out of bed. Tim followed. Dressed in their sweaters and rain slickers, they gave Bel Ami a rapid inspection. Sheltered between the islands, the waves of the lake were just a gentle swell. All was holding well. Back inside, Tim kindled the fire in the stove while Mark worked on spreading the bed sheets back in place. "We're going to mess them up again!" chimed Tim, playfully wiggling his pert behind. "Already?" asked Mark. "How do you feel?" inquired Tim, giving Mark a kiss in the neck. "Very much alive!" replied Mark, tapping Tim's cute fidgety ass. "Mark, I need you to open me up. I want you to feel free to enter me too without hurting me. I know you can do that for me, please..." "It's an honour. Let me get my jerking oil out of my toiletries. I'll massage you until you're ready -- until you can be filled only with pleasure..." While Tim sponged off his crotch then stoked the stove with wood, Mark spread a towel on the bed, placed the vial of oil in reaching distance, and invited Tim to lay face down. The mood was that of devotion. The act of flesh that they were going to perform was in fact an initiation. Even if physically speaking getting fucked in the ass and receiving a beloved's presence within one's intimate self is the same thing, but they are not exactly equal. One is being dominated and possessed, the other is receiving a beloved in his flesh. Mark kneaded Tim's buttocks, spreading his thighs, massaging his prostate, coaxing his anal ring to enjoy the surrender of relaxation. He rimmed Tim with his dancing tongue, lavishing the lad's winking orifice. Tim never flinched, welcoming Mark's doings with grace, discovering new dimensions of self-awareness and lust. Time again seemed to expand. Mark felt Tim's energy yearning for him, drawing him softly. Then Mark slathered his cock with oil. Tim raised his rump, slightly rolling. Mark then coaxed Tim to turn over on his back. He spread Tim's legs. Tim looked at Mark with pleading eyes, his mouth agape, his nostrils flaring. Mark leaned over Tim. The tip of his cock drooled as it met Tim's pinkish hole. Their mouths met in a kiss as Mark slowly entered Tim, never stopping until fully in. Tim beamed as he moved, cradling Mark's cock inside him. Mark too began to undulate, softly stirring Tim's innards. Mark stretched Tim's left arm over his head. The fragrant pit, the blossoming scent of youth and ardour prodded Mark. Tim trapped him in between his knees, rocking to and fro, lost together in the forthcoming upheaval of a massive orgasm. And massive it was! It happened! Mark arched, screaming, thrusting, grunting as he shot, never ceasing, over and over his semen deep inside Tim. Tim sprawled his legs, his toes curling, his fingers clawing Mark's rump, his cock spewing cum like a fountain, splattering their chests. Mark fell into Tim's arms. The sweat of their skin glowed in the pale daylight. Clutching each other, enlaced, immobile, they gasped for air. Realizing what Mark had left inside him, Tim sprang out of bed, grabbed Mark by the arm and pulled him outside. Drenched and naked, Tim clinged on to Mark, singing, "Mark Sutherland! I LOVE YOU! I love you, I'm loved, loved, loved for real!" Oblivious to the rain flowing down their glistening bodies, they laughed as they danced holding each other. Suddenly realising that they were freezing, they dashed into the cabin and, standing by the stove, they frictionned each other with towels until they were red as lobsters. "Mark, I'm... I'm... I don't know," exclaimed Tim, pulling Mark back in bed. "Are you still..." "YES! Let's see what happens now..." ---------- By mid afternoon, the rain had ceased and the wind had slackened. Tim sang as he fished from off the bow. Mark stood at the chart desk, writing, trying to understand the myriad of marvels he was experiencing. The words he wrote flowed out of his pen like poetry recalling the different states of abandon and delight he and Tim had created together. The kettle hummed. Mark made tea, fetched the cookie tin, and called his mate. Tim came in carrying two pollocks. He declared, "Take a look at supper for tonight! Do I bake or fry?" "Your choice," replied Mark with admiration. "Bake, with just a tomato salad on the side..." "And white wine," added Mark. "Yes, definitely white wine... Wanna know something? I'm so happy I can hardly believe it. It almost hurts!" stated Tim, drinking his tea. "Do you hurt elsewhere?" Laughing a little, Tim admitted, "My cock's a bit sore and so is my ass, but it's delightfully bearable! And you?" "The same..." "Ha! Now, I'm going on deck to clean the fish," declared Tim, putting his mug in the sink. Mark wrote in his notebook: happiness is discovering that youth is ageless. It lives forever in the soul -- Tim revived my heart, and shared his youth with love, love given and received. I didn't realize that I was softly falling in love, and now that it's happened, I still don't understand... and the best is that I don't give a damn! The baked fish, salad, and white wine were delicious. Tim and Mark peed into the night together, shoulder to shoulder, under a spangled sky, gleaming with the rising moon. Then they retired to bed, and this time, just for sleeping -- and they slept very, very well. ---------- Dawning rainbows streamed through the deck prisms. Tim yawned, then peeked at Mark, admiring him still deep asleep. It was his turn to tiptoe topside and sit on the bucket. He noticed that the weather was perfect for sailing. Crossing his fingers, he hoped that Mark would agree. Back inside he lit the stove for breakfast. "Already up, lover boy? You do me good! I haven't slept like that for ages..." exclaimed Mark, hastening topside. Coming down, Mark declared, "Perfect weather to go for a real sail!" Tim gave him a thumbs up. After a full breakfast, they dressed. The breeze was chilly, the air clear, and the sun ready to burn. Together they tidied the cabin, aired out the bed, and stashed whatever could go astray if the going got rough. Mark called the maritime weather forecast recorder. "Bras d'Or Lake: Forecast for the next twenty-four hours: Sun, breeze East force 2-3." "Perfect! We're going to see what Bel Ami can do, Tim. We've got to tack to Poor Island, then ease off Southeast and then South into the cut. We'll tie up just before Saint Peter's Bridge and see what happens from there." "I'll weigh anchor when you tell me." "Tim, are you ready?" "Ready!" "Weigh anchor!" Mark swiftly hoisted the mainsail, Tim had the jib up, and then the mizen. Mark pushed the tiller for a starboard tack. Bel Ami hesitated a bit. Tim shouted, "Bite the wind, Bel Ami! Veer off!" And as if by magic, Bel Ami eased to port, caught the wind and heeled. Several minutes later she was clipping along through the chop, heading into the open waters. Tim held on to the mizen mast, facing the breeze, looking like an angel, as Bel Ami picked up speed. Then he came back and prepared the deck for the port tack soon coming up. Shouldering up to Mark, Tim exclaimed, "Bel Ami's horny! Look how we're climbing the wind!" "Not only Bel Ami, if I judge from the bulge in your jeans!" "It's Bel Ami's fault -- and yours too!" laughed Tim, readjusting himself. "Just teasing!" "If you don't need me up here, I'm going down to make us sandwiches for later on." "Give me a kiss, first..." "Whenever you want, Mark! When and wherever you want. And if I want to kiss you too, even while you're asleep, I'll do it!" "Do it, mate!" replied Mark, just before Tim laid a kiss to remember on his lover's smile. Three tacks later and a lot of spray in the face they cleared Poor Island, then veered Southeast. The wind waned as they entered the cut, zigzagging among the islands. Around 3:30 PM, they dropped sails, easing up to the dock just before the bridge. While Mark went to see the lock keeper just before closing time, Tim secured Bel Ami for the night. When Mark returned, Tim inquired, "So what's the news?" "Good, they gave me the number of a young fellow called Fred. He does jobs around here and the islands with an outboard powerful enough to tow us through the locks. I called. He answered. He'll be here at 9:00 AM tomorrow. Now we're free! How would you like to take a walk around Saint Pierre? We can find a restaurant and return later to celebrate life!" "I think ours deserves it, Mark!" ---------- They found Louie's Cozy Corner, a good basic redneck eatery with fried seafood galore, good beer, and fun music. They loaded up on food, and fresh water, then returned to the boat, and dress up for their night out. Tim ate double portions of fried fish and shrimp with chips, finishing with a gigantic banana split. He ate with the same ardour he fucked! A splendour to admire. In just forty-eight hours, the sun had given him colours, he had discovered reckless sex, and had sailed a boat of classic elegance. He was simply radiant. Others in the restaurant gave them smiles as well. Tim may look delicate, almost effeminate, but just by watching him move, anyone can tell that his body was strong and his character, well-tempered. He even smelled good -- at least for Mark. Tim and Mark talked with a few, but when the music became too loud, they paid the bill, deciding to leave. They took their time, leisurely walking back to the boat. Walking like that, just for the pleasure with Mark was for Tim like walking with the sun, the moon, the wind and the tides all in one. He totally trusted Mark, loving him, carefree of all the rest. Mark, strolling with Tim, thought about how funny life had been. He had to go all the way to England, fuck and get fucked by quite a few guys, live a fake love affair, and get fed up of mundane success in order to find the perfect person he needed, walking there beside him. He had fallen in love, real love, because it was meant to happen, and he was finally brave enough to let it happen. "Mark?" "Yes, Tim" "I just wanted to tell you that you make me the happiest person alive..." Mark laughed, responding, "Impossible, Tim, the happiest person is me..." "Be it you or me, you and me, it's all the same." Once back at the boat, Tim hugged Mark, whispering in his ear, "Let's see what happens now..." ---------- Fred tied up alongside Bel Ami just in time for a cup of hot coffee. The sun was high and the morning warm. He complimented Bel Ami and then asked, "You two, kin? friends?" "Kin and lovers!" quipped back Tim, proudly smiling. Fred replied with a thumbs-up smile, "Cool..." They went through the locks of the canal, and by 11:30 AM Bel Ami was released in salt water. Fred came alongside and Tim handed him his fee. "Thanks! You're beautiful!" shouted Fred, speeding away. Tim and Mark hoisted the sails as usual. Bel Ami immediately grabbed the wind, heeled and picked up speed, hissing through the swell. Tim took the tiller. Mark went forward and held the forestay looking at the empty horizon. The smell of the ocean was like a perfume to Mark. Was it the wind, the sun, or simply the emotion that made tears swell in his eyes? He turned, looking aft at Tim proudly manning the tiller, then further away at the bubbling wake behind them. The word 'present' came to mind. He thought, "Present... funny word... meaning both 'now' and 'gift'... This present moment is a gift that never ceases giving..." He sat on the cabin roof, staring at the fleeting waters streaming alongside. "And then there's the word 'presence' as well" thought Mark. He jumped up and went to fetch his notebook. He wrote, "The presence of something or someone is more than just the thing or the person that's there. Tim's presence is a part of me now and I know that mine is a part of him too. And like Fred felt, Tim and I create a presence together so strong, so evident that it can only be admired. I'm not afraid, because the presence of the past is behind me now, and in front, there's the presence that brought Tim and I into the nowness of our love, guiding us on our way." Mark folded his notebook and joined Tim at the tiller. "How's it going?" "Couldn't be better." "Want a cup of fresh coffee?" "Mindreader!" ---------- Days became weeks. Tim and Mark made stopovers in towns only to buy supplies, do a laundry, enjoy a meal out. They found remote anchorages every night and whenever the weather wasn't comfortable for sailing, they enjoyed staying at anchor a day or two, cleaning Bel Ami, fishing, making love, writing, and such. Their phone calls home were special moments of sharing their joys with the rest of the family, receiving their congratulations. Of course, they happened to run into a squall and heavy seas from time to time. Since they were always close to shelter, the discomfort never lasted long. During a stopover in Sheet Harbour, they went to lunch at a local diner. They sat at the counter. Three rather overweight fellows in a booth loudly said, "Those fags over there, aren't they the two queers we saw making out on their old blow-boat yesterday?" Their nasal accent and excessive blubber indicated that they were from south-of-the-border. Tim winked at Mark and with a falsetto voice, loud enough for them to hear, Tim exclaimed, with a limp wrist, "Sweetheart, aren't those fat slobs over there the ones we saw, drunk out of their minds, trying to drive that horrible plastic pile of shit roaring around, polluting us, yesterday?" One of the 'slobs' stood, looking mean. The two lumberjack giants sitting at the counter stood as well, siding up to Tim and Mark, with an equally mean eye. The others stood, paid, and left. "Poor guys. I bet they only have money," commented Tim, laughing with the giants. Mark added, "Money and guns." The waitress at the counter laughed out loud saying to them both, "Darlings, you were fabulous!" The giants paid a second round of beer and got involved in a deep discussion with Tim, Mark, and the waitress. They stayed in Sheet River for two more days before sailing down to the 100 Wild Islands. There they sailed from island to island for nearly a week exploring, swimming, making love, and fishing. Avoiding Halifax, they enjoyed Chester and visiting the boatyard where Bel Ami was built. They became friends with the shipwrights and promised to stop by again in the spring heading back up to Baddeck. Finally, at the end of August, they dropped anchor in Shelburne Bay. Mark made arrangements to spend the autumn and winter in the small marina. Tim found a part-time job doing breakfasts in a nearby restaurant. He also bought nearly a ton of dry black ash firewood in the local woodyard and was granted the permission to split and cut it to the right size for their stove, then bag and stash it aboard Bel Ami. The guys in the woodyard enjoyed him being around. Mark devoted most of his time to writing his future novel. He inserted philosophical considerations on love, homosexuality, family, nature and the importance of beauty in his story. He and Tim often discussed the way the book was progressing. One January evening, after dinner, Tim and Mark were standing together outside on the deck, admiring the heavy clouds floating under a starry sky. Mark had been quiet during the meal. "You seem tense, Mark. Something wrong?" "I can't come up with a title for the book and it gets on my nerves!" replied Mark putting his arms around Tim's waist, holding him close from behind. Tim melted against Mark and suggested, "Since your story is about us, why don't you just call it 'Two In One'?" "Two In One? I don't understand..." uttered Mark, kissing Tim in the neck. "I explain: Two In One -- that's you and me. We make two. We are two in one boat, Bel Ami. Also, when we make love, there's you in me, and me in you, and both of us, in one love. Need me to go on?" "No, that's enough, I get it," smiled Mark. "Look, Mark, snow and stars... That's wild!" exclaimed Tim. "And beautiful... but I'm getting cold. Let's go in," Tim turned in Mark's arms, facing him and whispered, "You mean go in and see what happens?" "That's exactly what I mean! Ha!" ---------- Portraits of Mark and Tim are available upon request at