So Jeremy's back home once more, and in this chapter we'll see what sort of reception he gets from his mother and step-father. Later we'll have a chance to see how Kam's friendship with Neil is developing, and we'll get to hear what they each think about girls...
WARNING: we'll also be hearing quite a lot about Adolf's view of the world in this chapter. The author would just like to repeat that these are opinions and beliefs that he does not share!
Jeremy walked up his front path, hesitated, and then took his key from his pocket and let himself into the house.
“Hello?” he said, nervously. “Is anyone at home?”
“Jeremy? JEREMY!” His mother came flying out of the kitchen and enveloped him in a massive hug, kissing him over and over again. Jeremy waited for the storm to subside, knowing that the difficult bit was sure to follow, and of course it did.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “Have you had anything to eat? Are you sure you aren’t ill – have you been sleeping in a ditch? And what on earth were you thinking of, running off like that in the first place?”
She gave Jeremy no chance to answer any of these questions before following up with the next one, and when he did finally draw breath she still didn’t give him a chance to say anything.
“Get upstairs and get those dirty clothes off, and then have a bath – you must be filthy,” she ordered.
In fact Jeremy had taken a shower in the Ivy House cricket pavilion on Monday evening, so he didn’t feel particularly dirty; but the idea of a hot bath did have its attractions, so he headed for the stairs.
“Err, Mum,” he said, pausing on the bottom step, “where’s Ad… Andrew?”
“He’s at work. He stayed off until this morning, but once the police were involved he thought they could do a far better job of looking for you than he could, so he went back to the office. But he’s been really worried about you.”
I bet he hasn’t, thought Jeremy, but he kept his mouth shut.
“I’d better call and tell him you’re home. And… do the police know you’re back?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Then I’d better let them know, too. Now go and get in that bath!”
Jeremy went and took a leisurely bath. He could hear his mother speaking on the phone downstairs and guessed that it would only be a matter of time before Adolf came home and laid into him, but somehow it seemed to matter less now that he knew that Tony hadn’t told anyone his secret. Even being grounded for weeks on end wouldn’t be too bad as long as he could still see Bilal at school… though he knew that Tony was right, and that sooner or later he would have to tell Bilal how he felt about him. Still, that was a problem for another day.
He finished his bath, went through to his room and put some clean clothes on and then went back downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen cooking a meal for him, even though it wasn’t yet eleven o’clock: she was apparently convinced that he hadn’t eaten since Saturday lunchtime. Jeremy saw no reason to argue, because his mum’s cooking had been one of the things he’d missed most while he was away.
“Andrew’s on his way home,” she told him, making his appetite subside briefly: he’d hoped to have the rest of the day to prepare himself for the thrashing he knew was coming. But then he thought he might just as well get it over with – at least then he might be able to sit down again by the time bedtime came around…
Adolf appeared shortly before he finished his meal. To Jeremy’s surprise he didn’t shout at him, just told him to come through to the front room as soon as he had finished eating. And now that the moment had arrived, Jeremy’s appetite disappeared completely, and he was unable to clear his plate. He pushed it away and walked slowly to the front room, bracing himself as best he could.
“Shut the door and come and sit down,” Adolf told him as he came in.
Obviously it was going to be the lecture first and the thrashing afterwards, thought Jeremy, closing the door and taking the armchair opposite his step-father.
“Are you okay?” asked Adolf.
Jeremy’s jaw dropped – this was hardly the first question he’d expected. He bit back the answer ‘What the hell do you care?” before it could escape and just nodded.
“Your mother was really worried about you.”
That was low, thought Jeremy: trying to make me feel guilty like that isn’t going to work… except it was working, because he knew it was true and it had been bothering him for the whole of the time he’d been away.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“So was I.”
Pull the other one, thought Jeremy.
“I don’t suppose you believe that, but it’s true,” Adolf continued. “I know you don’t much like me, Jeremy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to you.”
“Oh, come on,” burst out Jeremy, unable to keep quiet in the face of this blatant lie, “if I hadn’t come back you’d have been dancing in the street.”
“Is that what you think?”
“If you care about me that much, why am I never allowed to have my friends round, even on my birthday?”
“It’s because I care about you that I won’t let them in the house.”
Jeremy gaped at him speechlessly, unable to believe he was actually uttering this load of old codswallop.
“Look, I was intending to talk to you about this next year,” said Adolf. “I thought when you were thirteen you’d be able to understand. But you’ve shown us that you’re not a child any longer, so maybe I should try to explain now.
“Jeremy, this country is in trouble. Do you remember a couple of years ago when we had no electricity for part of the time? I expect you thought it was fun, going to bed by candle-light, but really it was very serious: the coal-miners were refusing to work properly, so there wasn’t enough coal for the power stations. We had two elections that year, but it didn’t make any difference: it’s still the Trade Unions who decide what happens to the rest of us.
“The other problem we’ve got is immigration. This is an island, Jeremy: nobody has invaded us successfully since… do you know?”
“1066,” supplied Jeremy. “William the Conqueror.”
“Right. Well done. Nobody’s managed it since – not Napoleon, not even Hitler. For a thousand years we’ve survived and flourished, doing things for ourselves. And now our politicians want to throw it all away by bringing in people from outside. Oh, we’ve had immigrants here before, people running away from persecution in other countries, but they’ve always been white and they’ve always fitted in. Even the Jews were white, although they fitted in less than most of the others.
“But now we’ve got coloureds coming in, and the government isn’t doing anything to stop them – in fact, it was the government that actively encouraged the first lot. What’s the difference, you might ask – what does it matter what colour they are? Well, it matters because they’re not like us: they don’t think the way we do, and they don’t act the way we do.
“Most of my colleagues in the NF are worried about the blacks. I agree that we’re going to have a problem there, but I think it’ll be easy to deal with, and it’ll be a while in coming, too, because it isn’t the first generation who are going to be a problem: they know their place, they’re doing the basic jobs they were brought here to do, and to be fair to them they’re doing them pretty well. It’s the second generation who are going to cause problems, because they’re going to see the things the white people have got and they’re going to want the same things – but they’ll be too lazy and too stupid to earn them by hard work, so they’ll start stealing and robbing, and maybe they’ll start selling drugs to bring in some money…
“You see, Jeremy, black people simply aren’t as intelligent as white people, so although they’ll commit crimes, they’ll be easy to catch and deal with. That’s why it’s not really the blacks who worry me. No, the real problem is going to be the Asians, because they’re not stupid, and they’re nothing like us. At least the blacks speak English, and they’re mostly Christian – well, except for those Jamaicans who wear their hair in ropes and think the Emperor of Ethiopia is a god, or something.
“No, it’s the Asians who scare me: they’re the ones we really have got to get rid of before it’s too late.”
“I don’t understand. What’s so wrong with them? I mean, Bilal’s just a boy like me – he was born here, he speaks perfect English, he works hard at school – why shouldn’t he be allowed to stay here?”
“Because he’s not just a boy like you, Jeremy. Haven’t you seen him when he’s dressed to go to that shop they use as a mosque, wearing that knee-length shirt and the peculiar round hat? Haven’t you seen the rest of them there, the men with big bushy beards and the women all covered up in veils and stuff? And try asking your friend what language he speaks at home: I’ll bet it’s some foreign gibberish.”
“They’ve spoken English whenever I’ve been there,” Jeremy pointed out, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t supposed to visit Bilal’s house.
“Only because you’ve been there. Ask him what they speak when it’s just them. And they all have big families, too, so as soon as they get settled here they send to Pakistan and invite granny and auntie and all the cousins to come and stay with them. And they work damned hard, too, running those shops of theirs all the hours under the sun and raking in plenty of money…”
Jeremy couldn’t understand why the blacks were being condemned for laziness while the Asians were being lambasted for working hard, but he knew better than to point out such discrepancies in his step-father’s argument.
“If we don’t get rid of them, in twenty years’ time this country will be unrecognisable,” Adolf went on. “There’ll be a mosque in every town, there’ll be Pakis in Parliament making laws that affect the rest of us… there are already parts of some cities where there are more of them than there are of us… English will be a minority language, and, most important, all the decent jobs will go to them instead of to white people. So it’s your future I’m talking about here, Jeremy: by the time you leave university this is already going to be starting, unless we put a stop to it now.”
“But I still can’t see what difference it makes if I’m friends with Bilal – we like the same things, we work together at school, and it isn’t like he’s some sort of hooligan or anything.”
“No, but he doesn’t think the same way that you do. For a start he follows a barbaric religion that chops peoples’ hands off for stealing and stuff like that. And he’ll get married to whoever his parents tell him to get married to, not to a girl he chooses for himself – and how can that work out? I can understand that he seems nice to you, and being born here means that he’s got a veneer of civilisation about him – but deep down he’s a primitive, Jeremy, just like all the rest of them. You only see the surface, and it’s easy to be taken in, but the bottom line is that he thinks so differently from you that you’d be better off making friends with a chimpanzee.”
Jeremy was silent. He was sure Adolf was wrong about Bilal, but that last bit had raised the odd nagging doubt in his mind: after all, even Tony had suggested that Bilal’s thinking about sex might not be in line with his own.
“Look,” Adolf went on, “I know you think I’m being unfair to you, but you’ll thank me in the end, because there’s absolutely no future in trying to be friends with one of them: if it comes to the crunch he’ll only let you down, and if he was asked to choose between you and one of his own he’d pick the Paki every time. For your own good, stay away from him, and the rest of that lot, too.”
The argument was getting through: every time Jeremy told himself that Bilal would never let him down, a nasty nagging voice in his head said something like, ‘He’ll drop you like a hot potato once he knows you’re queer,” and “It’s bound to be against his religion – probably he’ll want to chop your balls off once he knows…” But he managed to shut the voice up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I think you’re wrong about Bilal. He’s my friend, and he’s never let me down” (‘yet’ added the nasty internal voice, which Jeremy tried to ignore) “and I’m not going to stop seeing him. I won’t ask him to come here, but I’ll still talk to him at school and see him at the weekend.”
Adolf sighed. “That’s a pity,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind in the end, though. Now you’d better go and tell your mother you’re sorry for worrying her like that. And for God’s sake don’t ever do anything as stupid as running off like that again, okay?”
Jeremy waited, but that seemed to be all his step-father was going to say.
“But… aren’t you going to punish me?” he asked, finally.
“Why, do you want me to?”
“Well, no, but…”
“I should have thought that living rough and hungry for four days was punishment enough, myself – but if you ever did pull that stunt again, you would really be in trouble, understand?”
“Okay,” said Jeremy, still unable to believe his luck. “I’ll go and talk to Mum, then.” He stood up, walked to the door, and hesitated. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to say this, but he felt he had to.
“Thanks,” he said. “For not punishing me, I mean.”
“Just don’t do it again,” said Adolf, picking up the local paper and starting to read. So Jeremy went back to the kitchen and apologised to his mother, and then retired to his bedroom and sat on the bed. Strangely, not being punished somehow felt worse than a heavy thrashing and a four-week grounding would have done: it left him feeling that the way he had upset his mother had somehow not been paid for. He almost reached the point of going back downstairs and asking Adolf to beat him – almost, but not quite.
After school Tony came and called for him, and seemed quite surprised when Adolf simply called for Jeremy to come and talk to his friend and then went back into the house.
“So you’re not grounded until your 21st birthday, then?” asked Tony as they walked round the corner to where Bilal was waiting for them.
“Nope. He didn’t hit me, either. Of course, he thinks I’ve been living in a dustbin eating raw mice for the past four days, but it still feels really strange.”
“Bet you’re not complaining, though.”
“Well… actually, Tony, I think I’d feel better if he had hit me. I do sort of deserve it for letting my mum get in a state about me… I’m starting to think it was pretty stupid, running off like that – and it hasn’t changed the way Adolf thinks about Bilal, either. Now he’s explained it to me I don’t think anything will change his mind about it.”
“Now he’s explained what?” asked Bilal, having caught the end of this comment as they reached the corner where he was waiting.
“Oh, Adolf reckons you’re basically nothing like me, and that you’re really a chimpanzee pretending to be human.”
“Ook, ook, ook!” replied Bilal, bending his knees and trying to scratch his armpits in a thoroughly simian manner. “Got any bananas?”
“Oh, my God, Adolf was right!” cried Jeremy, clutching his forehead. “My best friend‘s been a monkey all along! Why didn’t I see it before?”
“Probably because a monkey would make you look really thick,” suggested Tony. “Monkeys have probably all got higher IQs than you.”
Jeremy laughed and hit him, and Tony hit him back, grinning, and an impromptu wrestling match started, which Bilal eventually broke up.
“Okay, children,” he said. “So, does this mean everything’s back to normal, then?”
“Pretty much. I’m not grounded, and you’re still not allowed to visit, but there’s nothing to stop us getting together at the weekend.”
“Well, I suppose that’s okay, then. It doesn’t sound as if your disappearing act actually achieved anything, though.”
“Oh, I don’t know: I learned some stuff, and I found out I’ve got some really good friends, and I made a few new ones, too. I don’t think it was a complete waste of time. Oh, and thanks for the presents, guys – I never even mentioned it on Tuesday, Tony, but it’s a brilliant knife. And the Airfix kits saved me from dying of boredom, Bilal, so I guess you could say you saved my life.”
“Well, it’s an easier way to do it than dragging you from a raging sea, or fighting off a pack of hungry wolves,” said Bilal. “When you come to save my life I’ll try to make it more of a challenge.”
“So, we’re back to normal,” Jeremy resumed. “Can you let me have Uzzy’s phone number, Bilal? I’ll ask him to bring the Airfix kits home with him later this week, and then I can pick them up after football on Sunday – assuming we’re going to be playing again then, that is?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” asked Tony. “After all, there’s plenty of the guys haven’t had to streak yet, and that needs changing.”
“Especially if it’s you this week,” said Jeremy.
“I’m too classy. It’ll probably just have to be you again – after all, some of us have got it, and some of you haven’t…”
Thursday and Friday rolled past: Jeremy was besieged with questions from the rest of his classmates on Thursday but managed to persuade them that his absence had just been due to a misunderstanding and that everything as now back to normal. His teachers gave him some extra work to help him catch up with the lessons he had missed, and that kept him busy for much of Saturday as well as the weekday evenings, but by Saturday evening he was up to date once more and looking forward to a nice, normal football session the following day – though he also intended trying to talk to Kam about his feelings for Bilal, if he could catch him on his own.
However, catching Kam on his own was likely to be difficult, because Neil had come round on the Saturday evening and stayed over, sleeping in a sleeping bag on the boys’ bedroom floor. It had actually been very frustrating for both of them, because they hadn’t dared do anything in case Awais woke up: they were pretty sure that if Awais woke up and caught them sharing Kam’s bed it would be broadcast far and wide the next day, whatever they threatened him with.
“Next time we’ll camp out in the garden, or something,” muttered Neil, grumpily, once he was sure Awais had fallen asleep.
“We haven’t got a tent.”
“Then we’ll sleep in the shed – anywhere we can get away from your brother’s big flappy ears.”
“He’d probably still find out,” said Kam, gloomily. “It’s really hard to keep anything a secret from him. It’s a miracle he hasn’t twigged about us already.”
“Hey, what about if we went out to Jeremy’s garage?” suggested Neil. “If we could get permission to camp out we could sleep there – even Awais’s ears can’t hear stuff happening five miles away…”
“Now that is a really good idea,” said Kam, approvingly. “Maybe at the start of the holidays – I reckon I could get permission to camp out with you. What about your parents? Would they let you stay out overnight?”
“Yes, I should think so. I’ll ask, anyway.”
“Brilliant! We could take our bikes and do some exploring, and come back to the garage to sleep and stuff in the evening…”
“And stuff?” queried Neil.
“Oh, there would have to be stuff,” said Kam, grinning. “That’s the whole point of going, isn’t it, to give us a chance to do things we can’t do with Dumbo in the room.”
By now they knew that Jeremy was back home, of course: Bilal had told Kam and Awais at mosque on the Friday. Uzzy already knew, because he’d brought the rest of Jeremy’s things back on the bus with him on the Thursday evening. So the garage was vacant, and the idea of spending the night there with each other was extremely attractive.
Their relationship had continued to develop steadily: they had started by being physically attracted to each other, but had very quickly developed a close emotional bond, too, and while neither would have been prepared to entertain the word ‘love’ just yet, the roots were already growing. The problem was finding enough privacy for anything more than a fleeting hug, because any close friendship in an all-boys school is likely to be put under close scrutiny from their classmates, and even though they were extremely discreet at school there were already a few jibes flying about, mostly aimed at Neil.
After school hadn’t been a lot better: Neil had been round to Kam’s house a couple of times, but of course Awais got home from school before they did, and quite often his friend Robin was there, too (Robin’s mother didn’t get home until five o’clock, so there was a standing arrangement that he would come round to Awais’s house straight after school and stay there until his mother came to collect him) and that made it impossible to do anything more than a very brief cuddle when they were sure that the younger boys were safely in the garden. They both found it very frustrating.
On the Sunday morning, though, they finally managed to break free: it was a fine sunny morning yet again (so far this summer was proving to be record-breakingly hot and sunny) so after breakfast they got on their bikes and rode down to the common and then took the lane that ran out towards High View. In due course this brought them out into Britannia Forest. They rode on for a bit and then found a path leading off into the trees, which they followed until the trees got too close together to allow them to cycle any further, at which point they got off and pushed their bikes away from the path.
The trees here were mostly evergreens, and several of the pines had branches that grew very close to the ground. They picked a suitable-looking one, made their way through the low branches to the trunk and found themselves in a nice space with a carpet of pine-needles underfoot and a canopy of branches above. They were also, as they found when one of them went outside to check, totally invisible to anyone on the ground who was more than ten feet away.
“Peace at last,” said Kam, propping his bike against a branch and lying back on the pine needles. “No irritating little brother, no nosy classmates, just you and me… so what do you think we should do?”
“Go to sleep?” suggested Neil, coming and lying down next to him. “It’s really peaceful here, and I reckon I could drop off really easily.”
“We haven’t got any pillows,” Kam pointed out, “and I can’t sleep without one. Of course, you could offer to let me use some of your clothes…”
“Then what am I going to use?”
“Some of mine?”
“Fair enough.” Neil stood up and stripped naked, rolling his clothes up to make a pillow of sorts. Kam did likewise and they grinned at each other, but they found when they lay down once more that being naked on pine needles wasn’t quite as nice as they had thought it would be. Kam got up and collected his bike cape from his saddlebag, but that wasn’t ideal, either, as it was made of plastic that stuck to them uncomfortably.
“Sod this,” said Kam. “We’ll have to remember to bring a blanket next time. Now what?”
“Well, I reckon we can’t be all that far from Shortham,” Neil pointed out. “I’m pretty sure the road we were on goes to Brideford, so if we take a right turn off it we should end up in Shortham – and we know there’s a place there where we’ll be comfortable…”
So they got dressed again, pushed the bikes back to the road, carried on riding until they found a lane leading off to the right and then went that way. And they found they’d hit the jackpot: this turned out to be the lane the abandoned house was on. They’d actually ridden past it before Kam realised where they were and stopped his bike.
The garage was, as they had hoped and expected, deserted. They had a bonus because Sim had not yet collected his sleeping bag, so when they had undressed again they had something to cover themselves with. The cushion Jeremy had used as a pillow was still there, too, and Kam didn’t mind rolling his clothes up once more to provide them with a second one.
They lay down next to each other and relaxed.
“This place will be perfect if we can talk our parents into letting us camp out,” said Neil. “I reckon I could sleep really well like this.”
“Of course, we might not want to go to sleep straight away,” Kam pointed out.
“Really? What do you think we might want to do first, then?”
“I don’t know… maybe something like this?”
Kam manoeuvred Neil onto his side facing away from him, cuddled up close against his back, reached round and took hold of his friend’s penis, which quickly grew to full size. Kam caressed it for a bit and then began to rub it, but only very slowly.
“That feels really nice,” said Neil. “Don’t make it happen to me too quickly, though – we’ve got ages before we have to go back.”
“Don’t worry, this is just to get you in the mood,” Kam promised.
By now Neil could feel Kam’s own erection pressing against his bum. He knew what gay boys were supposed to do with each other and wondered what it would feel like if Kam did it to him – and he also wondered if he would dare to suggest it. For the time being he held his tongue and just enjoyed what was happening – as he had said, they had plenty of time yet.
After a while he rolled over to face Kam and said, “Your turn,” and Kam obediently turned his back, reversing their previous position.
“No, hang on, we’ll have to swap places,” said Neil. “I don’t think I can do it left-handed.”
They rearranged themselves and Neil set to work, though making no more of an effort to bring things to a conclusion that Kam had done: it was more fun to just stroke slowly and gently, knowing that there was no reason to hurry.
“This is nice,” commented Kam, dreamily. “I definitely like this place, Neil. I reckon a few days camping out here after the end of term would be really good.”
“We’d have to be sure none of the others decided the same thing,” Neil pointed out. “After all, they all know where it is. I wouldn’t want us to get caught here like this if Sim and Uzzy, say, decided to come here to camp out overnight, or something.”
“Actually, if any of the others were going to walk in on us I’d sooner it was those two than anyone else,” said Kam. “They are the only ones I’d be pretty sure wouldn’t laugh at us, because they sometimes strip together, too.”
“Blimey! Do you mean they fancy each other?”
“No, it’s only really a game for them, I think. I mean, they’re only eleven – they’re not old enough to know how it feels to be serious about someone.”
“But we’re thirteen, so we do?”
“And… is that what you think we’re doing, then – getting serious?”
Kam rolled over to face him. “Perhaps,” he said. “I don’t know that ‘love’ is really the word I’d choose, but I really like you, Neil, and I love being undressed with you… it’s… well, it’s not just a game for me, okay?”
“Or for me. I feel the same way… except… “
“Well… how do you feel about girls?”
“I’m not sure. I sort of like the idea, but… I don’t know, sometimes they seem to be a completely different species. I haven’t got a clue what to say to a girl, and even thinking about trying to hold a sensible conversation with one makes me feel uncomfortable. But I can lie here and talk to you without any problem… Maybe they get easier to talk to as you get older. I hope so.”
“I’m not really interested in girls at all, to be honest. I suppose you’re more mature than me, and maybe I’ll change my mind when I… well, you know, when I get as much hair as you. But right now I’m not that bothered. In fact, I was wondering if…”
“Well, if… if I might be gay.”
Kam shrugged. “Like you say, it’s probably just because you’re still growing. It’s probably too soon for you to know for sure. But it won’t bother me if you’re gay, anyway. In fact, I’d be glad, in a selfish sort of way, ‘cos it would mean I could go on doing stuff with you until I decide what to do about girls. If I decide I want to do anything, that is.”
“In that case I hope it takes ages before you work that out, because I really like doing stuff with you.” This seemed to be a good place to mention what he had been thinking about earlier, so he continued, “And I was wondering if maybe we could try doing some other stuff, too.”
“Well, gay boys are supposed to like… you know, fucking each other, and I was wondering if you’d like to do it to me.”
“I would, actually – I’ve sort of imagined doing that with you sometimes. But I don’t think I’m going to, because I think it would hurt you too much.”
“I don’t mind. If it really hurts we could always stop.”
Kam thought about it. It was true that he’d fantasised about it once or twice, but he was reluctant to actually try it, and for the same reason that he had never accepted Sim’s offer to do it to him: he was afraid he was too big and it would be too painful for his partner. Okay, Neil was taller and heavier than Sim, so maybe it wouldn’t be as difficult for him to take it…
“Well… if you’re sure…”
“I’m sure,” said Neil, enthusiastically: he’d fantasised about this too, and wanted to know what it would feel like in reality. “Shall we do it now?”
“We can’t,” said Kam. “We’d need something to make it slippery, otherwise I’d never get it in. We’ll have to wait until next time we’re here. Oh, and there’s a condition, too, and I won’t do it to you unless you agree: if I’m going to do it to you, you have to do it to me, too.”
“Really? I mean… well, I thought that because you’re… you know, more grown up, it ought to be you doing it to me.”
“You’re not a girl, Neil. We’re both boys, so if we’re going to do this, we ought to do it equally. Unless you really don’t want to, that is.”
“No, I’d definitely like to try,” said Neil, who had never fantasised about being on the active side of the process at all: it had never crossed his mind that Kam would want that. “But only if you don’t mind.”
“If I minded I wouldn’t have suggested it, would I? Look, Neil, we’re friends, we’re the same age, we’re both boys… we’re equals in everything, all right? So I don’t want to just do stuff to you: I want to do stuff with you, and I want us both to enjoy it. I don’t know how it’s going to feel from either position, but I want to find out. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Kam.”
It was hard for Neil to feel equal in this partnership: Kam was so obviously more… well, masculine, with his substantial body hair and his broken voice and his hint of a moustache. Neil had no body hair apart from the sparse amount at the base of his penis, his voice hadn’t started to change and he reckoned he wouldn’t need to shave for another four or five years, so being treated as an equal was more than he had expected, and it just made his feelings for Kam even stronger.
“I suppose we ought to be heading back,” said Kam. “But we can’t waste this place just because we haven’t got any Vaseline, so – do you want to rub mine first, or would you prefer to be rubbed first?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Then you can do it to me first,” said Kam, and he settled onto his back and waited. Neil got the sleeping bag out of the way and started to rub Kam’s penis steadily. It didn’t take long: pretty soon there were splashes of white across Kam’s chest and stomach.
“I can’t believe how mature you are,” said Neil. “That only took about half a minute.”
“It takes longer if I do it myself. You make it feel amazing… have you got a handkerchief, or something? Because I haven’t.”
“Nor have I…” Neil looked around and spotted a tissue box on the shelf at the back of the garage. It had been there since the travellers had left, and fortunately there were still a few tissues in it, so he mopped up and dumped the used tissues in the Tesco bag in the corner. There was just about room: Jeremy’s empty food packets were taking up most of the bag.
“Your turn,” said Kam, so Neil took his place on the mattress and Kam worked away at him. Neil was very much aware that it was taking quite a bit longer to get him excited, but it felt so brilliant he didn’t think he should let it bother him. Instead he looked at Kam’s face, wondering what it would feel like when they were actually joined together, and whether it would feel best to be active or passive.
Finally he felt the moment approaching: his muscles tensed up and his breathing got shaky, and then he couldn’t hold it back any longer…
“Not bad, Neil,” said Kam, squeezing and then letting go. “There’s definitely more than last time. I reckon you might catch up with me sooner than you think.”
He mopped up with a tissue and dumped it in the bag, and then he looked down on Neil, who had closed his eyes and looked happy and relaxed.
“It doesn’t feel weird any more, then?” he asked.
“No, not really. I think I’ll need a pee in a minute, but that’s about all. I suppose I’ve realised how lucky I am to have you – that’s far more important than anything else.”
He stood up and reached for his pants. “We ought to go,” he said. “But as soon as the holidays start we’re coming back, okay? I want to see how many times we can do that in one day…”
The summer holidays are not far away now, and most of the boys in the Collection have plans, which no doubt we'll get to follow as the summer rolls on. In the next chapter things are back to normal as far as the Sunday football sessions are concerned, though afterwards Jeremy will be asking Kam's advice on dealing with the Bilal problem. Oh, and Sim's got some more poetry to read...
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