Date: Tue, 12 Feb 2019 20:49:13 +0100 (CET) From: marin.giustinian@laposte.net Subject: Adam and Evan In 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. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at . This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale. ---------- ADAM AND EVAN by Marin Giustinian ---------- Loch Morar and then Glasgow, Scotland, 1960 ---------- I never believed in coincidences before, especially when they are totally unlikely. When one happens, then things have to be revised. That's what happened to me. I found the theory about guardian angels quite convenient for me to believe in. I guess any explanation could do, but I liked that one. Angels are beautiful and I love beauty, so... I didn't know I was waiting for somebody in my life, a perfect somebody. But the perfect person I was waiting for, and didn't know about it, showed up alone in a rowboat at dawn a little more than a year ago. My guardian angel can be quite a jokester at times! I have to write down the miracle so with age, it won't unfocus in my memory. I have heard that if you have the privilege of growing old, memories can be important and at the same time difficult to summon out of the fog of time. With this text, I'm sure I'll be able to clearly reminisce on the fabulous love which is ours, mine and Evan's. Will it last a lifetime? It's been a little more than a year now and that's already great! Nothing seems to indicate that we're on a crash course either. Both of us know that loving is a full-time job of attentiveness, patience, passion, and perseverance, so there's perspective and trust. Thank you again, my wonderful angel! Now I have to decide where to start! ---------- I swore I would forget my knee injury from a fall I had three years ago on one of my solitary hikes in the hills. I guess that's where my story really starts. It was a harsh way to put me on the right path, so I guess I should bless it. That's what I say now. When it happened, I cursed my angel -- and myself -- to no end! I knew it was foolish for the dancer that I was to take such stupid risks... but I did. Such risks are compulsive, they're a part of outdoors, and a part of me. Nature is my religion! I still have to walk in the woods, hike in the mountains, paddle down a river or across a lake. I need to roam under the sun, alone, sleep under the stars, and experience earth's love of life. I just have to feel the energy of life on earth mingle with the energy the earth put in me. I have to stay connected with nature, with the essentials. Otherwise, I think I'd go daft and let myself drift through life on the surface of futile emotions like most of the urbanites I know, living in my other world, the world of professional dance. I could never spend my life, only sweating and competing in dance studios, on theatre stages, and aimlessly hanging around in downtown bars as most dancers usually do. I don't find that fun and avoid wandering down that one-way street. I guess that's the problem of being born and raised as a good, obedient country boy in the Smoky Mountains of Virginia. My gym teacher in high school said I should take up dance. I was physically cut out for that, good looking, but not in the Tarzan sort of way. I loved and still love music, so that's what I did. He was right. I was really good at it and acquired skill enough to even teach later, as I do now. However, to be frank, I didn't have enough ruthlessness in me to become a top, superstar. I am proud to say though, I never had problems getting hired. After all, I did dance for five years on Broadway before my accident! When I busted my knee, falling off the rock I was climbing, I didn't even imagine I was busting up my life. The fall was just a part of the way I had chosen to live. But, after going through physical therapy and declared healed, I realized I could never do stage work again. So, here I was at the age of thirty-two, out looking for a job as a teacher or ballet master somewhere, anywhere if the work is challenging... and of course, well paid! That's when my guardian angel got back on the job! A friend of mine, knowing I was open to any reasonable proposition for a ballet master's position, called me and asked, "Adam? Have you ever been to Scotland?" I replied, "No... why?" "There's a damn good, high paying job opening at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow. They need a... how do they put it? There! I read that they need a quote 'qualified classical ballet master with skills in modern trends' unquote, now listen to this, 'such as in West Side Story.' You did the first Broadway production with Jerome Robbins, man! That's cut out for you!" "Where can I find the ad?" "Why don't you invite me out for a beer at our favorite bar down in Greenwich Village and I'll give you the magazine..." "So that's why you called me, you wonderful rascal! Great idea! When?" "Now." Well, I took the downtown subway and I showed up an hour later in the bar. Luke was there, waving a British dance magazine in my face. I read the ad and in my head it was decided. I'm applying. I applied, got a request for an interview and wired back saying I can catch a flight whenever they desire me coming. Two weeks later I was sitting in the director's office in Glasgow. We talked about the job. They were fierce guys to deal with, but very elegant -- quite different from New York! Other faculty members were there too, and after about two hours of hard negotiations, I landed the job with a very fit salary. I had three months to tie up everything in New York, move over to Glasgow and begin a brand new career as their ballet master in modern dance. I was to teach repertory, advanced technique for the older students and hold special classes for the male dancers of the Academy. So, that's how I spent last year and loved it. The dancers loved me too. That helps! For my well deserved vacation, after the summer session and before the beginning of academic year, I hitched up my canoe on its trailer along with my camping gear on to my little MG roadster and went to explore several lochs in the Highlands. On the last day of my outing, THE miracle took place. I remember quite clearly the mantle of misty haze coming down in the early evening on Loch Morar. I had gone to the far eastern end of the loch which is totally unpopulated and after two days there, I was returning to camp, finishing my freedom, on a gem of an island I had spotted going out. The islands are near the village of Morar where I had left my car and trailer, so my departure could be really easy... or at least as painless possible. Before the fog hid it completely, I spotted my island. It still had a cloak of light over it. I eased in. Strangely enough, I felt a kind of emotion, something between joy and expectation as I was approaching. Islands have personality. I paddled around it once, looking for the best place to come ashore. A perfect little clearing on the eastern side revealed itself. I beached, unloaded and set up my little teepee tent. I even made a small fire inside to keep the damp out. Sometimes at night, the fog lifts. I hoped so that night. I need some stars to console me! I ate, enjoyed a shot of whiskey all snuggled up in my nest of covers and immediately fell asleep. ---------- After a wonderful night's sleep, in the wee hours of the forthcoming dawn, I crawled out on all fours to go and pee. Was I going mad? The fourth piano prelude, opus 28 by Frederic Chopin, faintly floated across the immobile, mirroring waters. Then there was a moment of silence and it started over again. That's when I saw in the clear, dim dawning light, rounding the point of the island, a skiff being rowed by a handsome young man. It looked like he was heading towards 'my' island. In the stern, there was a vintage hand-cranked gramophone playing a 78 rpm record. So that was Chopin! I scrambled back into the tent to pull on my sweatpants and put a sweater on to greet the fellow as he was tying up. The young man looked astonished to see me. I almost felt sorry for him. I bade him a hearty "Good morning!" and he replied the same, stepping ashore. "Excuse me if I bothered you, Sir. I didn't expect to find somebody here," he politely stated, with a gentle smile, "I'll leave immediately." "Wait... the island is not my private property. Whatever you came to do, please do it. You don't bother me at all. I'm going to make coffee. Will you have a mug with me?" I said, coming closer. "Thank you, with pleasure, Sir. While you prepare it, might I go down to the point for the sunrise? That's why I came." "You admire the sunrise with Chopin," I commented, amused, indicating the record player he had under his arm. "You recognized the music...?" "Of course, I did. I'm a ballet master and it's my job to know the best of music!" He looked totally astounded. Seeing him mute, I continued, "Why do you look so startled? I'm not dangerous, you know!" I said, jesting. "It's that... It's that I came here to dance, Sir," he stuttered, "I dance for the dawn so to speak... and..." "And that's wonderful! Please don't let me hinder you. I'll be discreet, I promise." "But I'm not a real dancer, Sir. I just dance what I feel." "Well, so much the better! Please go dance for the sun while I light the fire for our coffee." I found that very touching... strange but touching -- especially out here in the boondocks. Anyway, the lad looked a bit more relieved and quietly made his way on a little path to the point of the island. He really intrigued me. I can recognize a country boy when I see one. I was one myself! He was dressed like a hick, his hands looked rugged like someone who works with them, his complexion was a bit weathered and yet he was so refined. I couldn't imagine a teenage yokel who dances for the rising sun... with Chopin! That was a total mystery! Also, I admit, his totally becoming good looks impressed me. I gathered some sticks, lit the fire, and put the water on to boil. I had to peek! I went down on the shore and was able to see him as the sun exploded the horizon. My God! He was beautiful. I couldn't classify his movements but they flowed. He was enrobing himself in a cloud of graceful motion, nimbly pacing his step from stone to stone. His dance was just as refined as he was, with just a touch of animality about him, mixing the feline style of a coy wildcat and the nervousness of a gazelle. The light made him glow in spite of his very tired attire. He came back just as I had finished brewing the coffee. "Sugar or black?" I asked as I handed him his mug. "Sugar please, if you don't mind, Sir. Thank you." I handed him the sugar jar and a spoon, saying, "Listen, my young friend, my name is Adam. I do appreciate the 'Sir' but I do feel it's a bit inappropriate out here at this hour in the morning. And, by the way, what's your name, if you don't mind?" "Evan... Evan Trovers, Sir... I mean, Adam. But shouldn't I say Maestro? I saw that you were looking at my dance..." "Yes, I did. Quite a wonderful sight in the rising sun, I must say!" "I didn't look too silly, did I?" "None whatsoever, Evan!" That was a terrible understatement! He smiled and we just stood there by the fire sipping our coffee. I broke the silence asking him to tell me some about himself. How did he become interested in dancing? What was his livelihood? I found it strange when he asked, "Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?" "Both... Am I being too nosy?" "Oh no! It's just that not that many people are interested in me for real... I'm just a bit surprised that you, an American ballet master, want to know things about me." "How do you know I'm American?" "Your accent, Sir, and coffee. Here, we mostly drink tea!" We both laughed! "Well, to get you started, let me introduce myself first. Yes, I'm from the States. I danced until I injured my knee in a climbing accident. I used to dance on Broadway. I got a job teaching at the Royal Academy in Glasgow a year ago. I'm a nature lover and spend as much time as I can outdoors. I live alone and don't mind it at all... Now it's your turn!" "I work for the priest of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and St Cumin's Church and Rectory over on the shore at Morar. I'm the handyman, gardener and do just about anything else that needs to be done for the old gentleman. Two years ago, when I went with some mates on a graduation trip to Inverness, I saw the film 'West Side Story'. Wow! Ever since, I live to dance! Sure, I couldn't afford going to dance schools and I know my parents could never pay tuition and expenses for me to go to Glasgow or elsewhere, so I have to work alone with my feelings... and nature as my masters. I say I go fishing and leave my room before daybreak, row over here and dance in the dawn, hidden from the mainland and most of all from Father McKinley. He says the only dance that's not an offense to the Lord is the Scottish highland fling. It's fun, but I need more meaning. Whatever, I love dancing in the sunrise. I have the day off but I come early anyhow!" I listened attentively as he spoke. He looked so sincere! "I hope I don't bother you. I can go now if you want..." he continued. I immediately interjected, "No! You are in your space and you have the perfect right to be here. In fact, I'm really interested in your dance. I feel it's your passion and I've never met a self-taught dancer as graceful and strong as you." "Really...!" "Listen Evan, what would you say if we worked some together today? Would you like a little coaching?" "Oh, my goodness! Would you do that for me! Of course, I'd be honored if you could help me. Sometimes, I feel like I'm always doing the same things." "That's not a problem, Evan. You must do the same thing until you do it better and each time they grow, change, become stronger, more beautiful too as you persevere." "I see. Wow! Today is really my lucky day!" "But before anything, I'm starved! Would you like to share some breakfast with me. I've got enough pastry and oranges for two. I'm going back to Glasgow tomorrow, so I have to finish my stock." "Well, I guess I can help you out!" he chirped, laughing. ---------- As we ate I was amazed by his appetite. I guess I was voracious like that too when I was his age... in fact, not that long ago. He told me that he comes from a fisherman's family in Mallaig. He's the middle child of five. He says he's a loner, a music lover, and reads a lot. He also said he's a Catholic but not too convinced. He then questioned me some about my career in dance, how did I like teaching and things like that. When I told him that I had danced in the first production of West Side Story, he nearly had an orgasm with a heart attack. He actually gasped, his mouth dropping wide open! It made me laugh inside. People who had seen the show never expressed such enthusiasm as he did, having only seen the film -- which, of course, is good, but the live performance is something awesome! In fact, I hated the filming, doing the dances piece by piece, over and over again. Sure, the result is perfect, but almost too perfect, lacking life and magic. "Let's clean up breakfast. I want to wash up a little before we work and take advantage of the hot morning sun. You can do some stretching and warm-ups during that time." He just stood there, shrugged and looked at me as if he had a gigantic question mark over his head. "You don't know what to do... Is that it?" He just shrugged. "Well, we'll do it together! It'll do me good too! But let's put out the fire and tidy up the place beforehand." "That I know how to do, Adam!" Once everything was in order, I took my towel and went down to the shore. "Come on with me," I said beckoning him with my free hand. Once we were on the edge of the water, I stripped and invited him to do the same. He hesitated. I insisted, saying, "Just do what I say and follow me. You'll see, it'll put us in great shape!" Both of us naked, facing the sun, standing in the water just above the ankles, I started a kind of gym routine, stretching, twisting along with some squats, dunking our balls a bit. That made him laugh. We were really enjoying the motion, the air, the sun and the fellowship. The kid was giving me energy galore. "Now here's the good part! You can scream if you want!" I shouted as I dove into the chilly water. "Come on! Dive! It won't kill you!" I ordered and he dove, bobbed up laughing like mad, splashing around as I strode up onshore. He followed. I was rubbing myself down with the towel. As he approached, I started rubbing him. He grabbed the towel and returned the favor. We carried on like that for a minute or two, swapping the towel, laughing even more. We were both crimson red, our cocks proudly jutting forward, bouncing as we hopped and skittered some, catching our breath. "That's great, Adam! I feel so very much alive!" "I'm glad you enjoy! Put your T-shirt and undies back on and we'll do the workout like that." "Why not naked?" "Naked? Well... Well, why not indeed? I guess if it was good enough for the ancient Greeks, it'll be good enough for us!" I replied. "The ancient Greeks went naked?" "The word 'gymnos' in Greek means 'naked'. When we say 'Gym' or 'Gymnasium' in English, that designates, in fact, the place where you should go naked. 'Gymnastics' meant moving naked." "Cool! Wow, you know a lot of things, Adam! Follow me. I have a clearing further in where we can move some better." It would be too laborious for me to write down all we did. The most important thing I remember was that he learned fast and the more we worked, the more he wanted to work. He was well coordinated by nature. If a person craves to dance, it's also because his body is hungry to express itself, being naturally high strung, limber and lively. Evan's motion was even more sensual as his nudity blended in with the surroundings. His perspiration glistening in the morning light giving him an allure of an angel having shed his wings. But he was human after all. His scent was a mix of cinnamon and incense and his soft, unblemished features were just on the threshold of manliness. His proportions fascinated me. Everything was just the right size. The length and flair of his nose, his wide, well spaced eyes, his small ears and plump lips composed a most comely face. His limbs were in proportion too, neither too long nor lacking extent, and his perfect penis still had its moderate foreskin dangling like a ripe fruit from the nest of his pubic curls. Other than some scarce body hair on his legs and in his pits, he was smooth as ivory. We worked without stopping late into the morning. Then, at a certain point, he sort of stumbled on me, collapsing in my arms, stuttering, "Pity! I'm dead! I've got to take a break! That's really hard work!" I hugged him, holding him tight against me and said as I patted his buttocks, "You did really well, Evan! You can be proud of yourself." "I'm proud of you, Maestro!" He didn't release me. I felt our cocks rising to rub each other as my heartbeat sped just a little. We looked at each other, our noses nearly touching. Then with a face-splitting smile, we ran hand in hand to the water, jumped in and swam around like otters playing together. After a minute or two, we were back ashore, drying in the sun. "I'm going to catch us some lunch!" he stated, pulling his underwear on. "How's that?" I inquired, dressing too. "Trout!" then dashing down to this skiff, he shouted, "I'll be back in a minute!" In a minute! I thought I had time galore to bake potatoes and even wait some. The fire was going well. I had wrapped the potatoes in foil, having just put them in the fire when Evan rowed back, jumped out of the skiff with two beautiful trout strung on a stick and his lunch bag elegantly hanging from a shoulder. "What did you do? Whistle and they just come and jump in your boat, Evan?" He laughed, saying, "Not really, but I know how to catch them. I always have a fishing rod in the boat and lures. I just feel where they are, cast, and they strike!" He cleaned them in a blink and while the fire dwindled down to coals under the grill, I laid out the picnic plates, goblets and cut the bread he had brought with some cheese. The lunch was a banquet! We were ready for a little nap after. I suggested we get into the shade and rest up some before carrying on. "Do you want us to work some more later on? We can work with your music if you want." I suggested. "More than ever! I want to learn as much as I can before -- before you go away..." he said nearly finishing his sentence in a whisper as he turned his face away. I felt a little pang too. That's a threat when you let your heart indulge in too much happiness. ---------- As we laid side by side in the golden shade of the early autumn maple tree, I let my thoughts drift. I had Evan on my mind. He was breathing deep, snoozing next to me, contented with a slight smile on his full lips. His dance haunted me, questioned me, stimulated my creativity, my quest for artistic freedom. He was so unspoiled and pure. His instinct mastered his movements. He haunted me. I couldn't help feeling his loneliness too... or was it mine? I avoided pondering on those thoughts and concentrated on a little nap myself. For the second time that day, Chopin woke me up. Evan had retired to the clearing and had his record playing. I rose, stretched and went to join him. He was dressed only in his T-shirt and briefs and was slowly swaying, listening to the enchantment of the piano playing in the tiny glade. When he saw me he smiled, walked up to me and said, "I'm ready if you are." I touched him on the cheek and we went back to work. We listened twice to the prelude, analyzing the ruptures of rhythm, the crescendos typical of Chopin's music. I told him some about Chopin, his life, his strifes and his drives. Then I told Evan to not dance on the music, but let the music dance in him. He beamed and began. Nothing more was needed to be said. Of course, I suggested he be a little less lyrical here, a bit more incisive there. I even told him he could take a pause in his motion, letting the music pass by, gathering his emotion to begin again with more depth, more hushed passion. When I told him that dance is simply the sublime side of sex, he smiled and said, "I think I know what you mean." When he resumed his dance, it was more like desire instead of love-making. It was evident that he was virgin and not upset at all about it. God, he and his dance were so beautiful it almost hurt! I gave up trying to understand the creative process going on in Evan's mind and body. All I understood is that he was a natural born dancer, a kind of rare and outstanding prodigy you run into once in a blue moon. What could become of such talent here in this remote area of the coast of Scotland? The lad was striving for survival and yet persevering in his dream, dancing only for the sun. I suddenly felt terribly responsible for him and for the art of dance. I didn't know what to do. Well, yes I did know -- but didn't have the guts to commit myself. I felt like a wimp! The music stopped. He did too. Looking at me, he came over and said, "Why do you look so down, Adam? I didn't work well? Are you disappointed?" "Evan, I'm not disappointed at all. You simply upset me with the purity of your dance. It terrifies me." "I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" "I don't have to forgive you, Evan. You are perfect! It's just that for me, if we go on working a minute longer, we'll need years to finish... if ever there's an end. Let me think about it. Be patient with your passion and with me. Okay? Can you come back tomorrow morning like you did this morning?" "Sure I can. I'll bring you a gift to thank you for all you've done for me!" As we were walking back to the campsite, I asked, "What time do you normally have supper at the rectory?" "Mrs. Grimley, the housekeeper, serves at six. Do you want me to go now?" "I think it's best. That way you can row back without hurrying and be on time for supper. I'm going to think about what I can leave for you to work on after I'm gone." He fidgeted some with his shirttail before pulling his pants back up."You'll come back someday won't you, Adam?" There was like a plea in his voice. "I don't know Evan... Give me a hug." He quickly jerked up his trousers and threw himself on me. We hugged. He snuggled his face in my neck, then kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you again, Adam! See you tomorrow!" He wiped a tear off his cheek as he turned, buckling up, and sprinted away to his skiff. Once afloat, he waved back to me and rowed away. The splash of each oar-stroke chilled me more and more as I just stood there feeling -- feeling extremely empty. ---------- I tossed and turned in the covers. Sleep didn't seem to be on the program that night. I jerked off. That usually relaxes me. As I shot off, I screamed out in the dark, "Evan!" It appeared to be evident now. I had to invite Evan to come and work with me in Glasgow. He could live in. I could arrange things so that he attends my courses for free, as a guest auditor. I earn damn enough money to take over expenses. He could find some gardening to do in the rather posh village I live in for personal money. We could always work things out. The question was for me, down inside, was I ready to give up my selfish solitude. I'd tried living with a girlfriend. We split up after four months of what became a living hell. I tried living with another mate, indulging, satisfying my homo tendencies. It was even worse. I'd sworn to myself to never get into a situation that could hurt me that way again. And here I am on the verge of breaking my own oath. Well, maybe, Evan could stay in with me just long enough to get on his own... I am so damn confused! I'll see what he has to say. Maybe he won't even consider coming to Glasgow. Maybe he's happy to do what he's doing... Maybe he'll just say thank you, preferring to stay here... Oh shit! I hope not! I was awake before daybreak. The stars were still twinkling in the paling light to the East. My heart skipped a beat when I heard Mozart in the morning breeze coming across the loch. Sure enough, there was Evan rowing in the glow preceding the break of dawn. I quickly lit the fire I had prepared. He called out to me as he neared the shore, "Good morning, Adam! I'm glad to see you're up!" "Yes I am and glad to see you too, Evan!" I was almost sweating with anticipation. No, not almost! I was dripping cold sweat from my pits as he climbed the bank to join me by the fire. With no further ceremony we hugged, giggled and hugged again. He smelt good of soap and toothpaste. This time it wasn't a little peck on the cheek, but directly on the mouth. "Is that your gift?" I asked pulling him close to me, belly to belly. "No, this is!" And he took my head in his hands and kissed me again... and again. It felt so normal. I kissed him back. The first sun ray peeked over the horizon of the loch. A path of gold shot across the surface of the waters and fell on us as I pulled away, not really knowing where this could take us... or knowing too well! "Evan, I have something to say concerning you and me. Let's have a coffee and calmly talk some before dancing. It won't take long and all you have to do is answer my question by yes or no." He looked worried, standing by the fire, and simply said, "I'm listening." "Have a seat -- There, that's better -- I thought about you all night long..." "Me too, Adam!" he stated, interrupting me. "As I was saying, I thought if you could manage to free yourself from your duties at the church, I am willing to take you with me to study, for free, only in my classes, in the Academy. My house is in a village about a half an hour north of Glasgow. It's a little cottage, simple but comfortable with a guest room upstairs. I think we could get along well if we respect each other's space." I was extremely nervous as I spoke. He just looked at me with a rather blank face. Then I saw tears swell in his eyes. "Oh my God! Thank you so much, Adam. That's really kind of you, but I don't have any money and I don't want to be a burden on you." "Listen to me, Evan. What I'm saying is that I'm sure the world of dance needs you and I represent that world in my modest way. Let's say I'm investing in your dance because I believe in it, thus in you! I earn my living quite well. You will not be a financial burden at all -- as long as you work well, keep the house in order, and be your cheerful, gracious self! Am I clear?" "Yes." "So do you accept my offer or not? Yes or no?" He rose walked a few paces here and there. It was obvious that a storm was raging in his head. He scratched his hair and sat back down. He drew his thighs up, hugging them close as a child does to console himself. He looked at me for a long moment, his head cradled in his arm. His eyes were soft. Little by little a smile crept over his lips as he said, "Yes, I accept." I think I leapt up! I held out my arms for him to rise and hug. We immediately grabbed each other and kissed again. Both our cocks were straining. Mine was drooling. I was trembling as Evan began to play with the drawstring on my sweat pants. "Evan, I'm not sure that we should go that way. Now to celebrate, don't you thinks it's time to dance the dawn...?" "You're right, Adam! I don't know what overtook me..." "If you don't know, I do. For the time being, keep calm and let yourself go by dancing what you feel, facing that wonderful sun on your skin!" He flashed that unique smile of his, ripped off his shirt and ran, with me behind this time, down to the point where he does his sun-dance. He stood for a long moment without moving and then starting in his pelvis, he moved ever so slightly as if he were making love. The motion spread through his body and again the miracle happened. It seemed like he created a halo of glowing energy around him as he sculptured space, this time in the glory of silence. When he stopped, he turned to me, walked up and said, "Hug me Adam! I'm the happiest fellow on earth and you are my happiness." We hugged, shared a tender kiss and holding hands, we returned to the campsite. The fire was almost out. "Coffee?" "Please." Evan filled the kettle while I rekindled the fire. "Tell me everything I need to know, Adam! When can I come? What do I need to bring? And all the rest!" "It's not complicated. You come as soon as possible. You call me after 8:00 PM giving me your arrival time and date at the Glasgow Queen Street Station and I'll be there to pick you up. You bring what you can put in your suitcase and that's it. It's up to you to handle Father McKinley. I think it's best you simply tell him the truth, the whole story. If he's a good man, he'll give you his blessings, pay you your due and that's it." ---------- Breaking camp was easy this time. We were two to do the job, folding the tent and the covers. I stashed the little food remaining while Evan cleaned the soot off the grill, kettle and pot. We put my things in his boat making my canoe lighter and thus faster. When everything was loaded and the island was as clean as if untouched, we turned and just looked at each other. Evan sighed and held out his arms for another very important hug. Of course, I complied! "Your island, Evan, is a magical place, a kind of sacred spot on earth. Your dance will linger here for a long time, I'm sure!" "You say the nicest things, Adam. I'll take the spirit of the island with me in my heart all the way to Glasgow! Promise!" "I think we should go, don't you?" "If you say so..." The car was where I left it, untouched. Evan exclaimed, "So that's yours! I love it! Are you going to collect me at the station with it?" "Of course, mate! Glad you approve!" We laughed to lighten the atmosphere. We easily put the canoe on the trailer and packed the camping gear inside. I fitted the tarp over it, securing everything nice and tight. "So, here is my card, Evan, with my phone and address. Don't lose it! When you've settled everything here, call me. You're sure to find me on the other end of the line after 8:00 PM. Call at least a day before you arrive, giving me the day and time of arrival and I'll be there. Try to come before classes begin Monday next -- not day after tomorrow but the next. Then, I'll be less free. It would be great also if you could start with the others." "It won't be long. I assure you! I miss you already! I don't know if I'll go back to the island before coming to meet you. It will be too sad without you there... I'll see. I'm talking with Father McKinley today! By the way, I must haste! I'm sure I'm nearly late!" "Run! I can't wait till you're in Glasgow!" With those words, he grabbed me and we hugged, tapping each other on the back. Then he broke away, wiped his nose, saying, "See you later, Adam! Have a safe drive back!" and off he ran. I climbed into the car, started the motor, and hit the road. I was heading straight into a brand new life, wondering if I were mad, or finally, at last, my real self! ---------- As I drove, I kept on scatting the wicked little devil hissing in my right ear saying, "Adam! Watch out! The boy's going to break your heart really bad. The kid won't come, and if he comes, he's going to take advantage of you and then drop you like cigarette butt, crushing you under his sole." In my left ear, my guardian angel kept on interrupting him, saying, "Shut up, liar! The kid's a saint, crazy in love with him. He'd walk barefooted through hell just to stand by him! Adam, you can trust him! I assure!" Well, I went through that all the way back and when I was at last back home, I was totally worn out! I opened up the house, picked up the pile of mail scattered in the entry, and went in. It was good to be back! I feel secure in my own hideaway. I went through my mail, postponing all answers till tomorrow. I unpacked, leaving a royal mess a little bit everywhere, saying I'll sort it all out later. I was starving too and decided to have an early supper out. I drove to my favorite pub, had a few pints, ate a good, greasy fish and chips and returned home. I sat like a moron looking at the phone. I even checked that it was working... I put a record of Mozart on the hi-fi, drew a hot bath, full of bubbles, and soaked with a whiskey in my hand. Life was good after all. Deep down inside I was happier than I'd ever been. My angel assured me that Evan's coming and that everything is going to be all right! I said to myself, tomorrow, Sunday, I'll work on my program for the upcoming year. I have something new to say at the staff meeting Monday, but I'm not really clear about it. I must work on it. My experience with Evan has given me all sorts of new ideas on coaching young dancers. I thought about undertaking a less indoctrinating line of teaching. Instead of telling my student to do this and do that, saying that this is good and that's bad, giving them the fake certitude that I alone held the only truth in the matter, I would try to lead them to their own dance. I'm sick of turning out nice, handsome robots, only good for spinning, leaping, and lifting girls. I want them to discover the art and the beauty they have inside themselves, the rawness of their emotions, lust and secret feelings. That's the soul of dance! I don't know what nor how to go about doing it, but things must change. Thank you, Evan, for being my inspiration! ---------- At the end of the staff meeting, I drove home, satisfied by the reactions to my intervention. I was washing my supper dishes when the phone rang. My heart skipped a beat... even two! "Hello" "Is that you Adam?" "Yes, Evan. Speak up!" "I'm arriving day after tomorrow, Wednesday, at Queen Street Station in Glasgow at 3:30 PM." "I'll be there, Evan!" "I'm so excited! I miss you terribly. I've got to hang up. I'm out of coins. See you soon! Bye-bye." Clunk, then hummmmmmm... I just stood there, the phone receiver in my hand. Holy stars were exploding! I hung up and poured myself a double shot of whiskey, plopped down in my armchair and repeated, "He's really coming! I can't believe it! Evan, here!" I didn't know if I were overjoyed or scared to death! Both I guess! And I didn't give a damn! Tuesday was spent preparing the guest room. I stocked food, bought flowers and cleaned even behind the sofa. I dusted the books and checked to see if all the LPs were in the right jacket. I played Elvis Presley's Love Me Tender at least ten times, cursing and laughing at myself for being so mushy and romantic! Shit! Why not? I'm happy! I called to see if I could see the director that afternoon. I was lucky. He gave me an appointment for 4:00 PM. "Good afternoon, Adam. I thoroughly appreciated your comments at the staff meeting yesterday. What gives me the honor of your visit now?" "Thank you Alfred. There's a link between my intervention and my visit. His name is Evan. I need your authorization concerning the possibility of me working with a real prodigy I discovered on holidays just a few days ago. I'd like for him to study with me in the Academy." "Please carry on..." He attentively listened to my story about Evan and his dance and simply replied, "Highly interesting. He sounds quite special. I don't know why prodigies have become so rare these days. France had Rimbaud, Austria and the world had Mozart, now I understand we have a certain Evan. I shall enroll him as a free auditor. He can only attend your classes and we cannot let him take our exams being a free auditor. He must be insured of course. Once he's here, have him go see my secretary to fill out his papers with all the necessary data. You will be taking care of his housing, board and such, I presume." "Yes, and thank you, Alfred. When you see him dance, you'll be proud of your decision!" "It's only because I'm proud of you, Adam. Is that all?" "That's all." We shook hands. I jumped in the car and raced back to the village wondering how was I going to survive until tomorrow at the train station! ---------- When the train screeched to a steaming stop on platform 5, I was discreetly jittering, waiting for the coach doors to open. Suddenly a crowd of people came rushing past me, flooding into the main hall. Several other people like me, were nervously straining to see in the mob their own expected passenger. The flow didn't seem to dwindle and I was getting really nervous! Did he miss the connection in Fort William? Did something happen? Why wasn't he already there? I was still stretching, trying to see further down the platform when I heard, "Adam! I'm here!" THERE HE WAS! "Good God! How did you get here without me seeing you?" "You were too intent on looking for me. That's why. Don't I get a hug?" "Good God, yes!" I grabbed him like I'd never grabbed anyone before and right there in front of God and everybody, we kissed. No one paid the slightest mind. The crowd thinned out and we left the station holding hands. Once at the car, I stuffed his old duffle bag in the boot and we drove away. "How was the trip?" "Uneventful and too long! I'm so glad to be here at last!" he replied squeezing my thigh. "And I'm so glad you're here!" I stated, "If you're not too tired we can go by the Academy. I'd like to show the dance studio. Then we can head out of town, have an early supper in a good little pub on the way, and arrive home not too late." "Sounds good to me, Adam! Anything goes." Dodging a bus, I asked, "How did it go with Father McKinley?" "I did like you said. I told him everything : my dance, you, your offer. He listened and simply said, 'If that's the will of God, I'll give you my blessing and your train fare. If it's the devil, I'll just kick you out. What do you think?' he asked. I told him, 'Father, I know it's the will of God. Every time I danced at dawn it was my way of praying that He put me on my true road in life. My guide was waiting for me Friday morning. That's the Gospel truth!' Then he said, 'I believe you my boy. I'm going to miss you around, but you must follow your star -- and become a star, if you pardon my joke!' and I said, 'I'll do my best, Father.' and that was it." "Do you really believe our meeting together was sent by God?" "Of course I do, Adam." "Here we are! The Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama... and dance too!" I parked and we went in. He was very impressed by the immense, white dance studio. I turned the tape recorder and amplifier on and suddenly the Ninth by Beethoven blasted into space. Evan was awestruck. "God, that's wonderful! Just like in the movie theatre!" he exclaimed and dashed out into the room, with a leap and a pirouette. I shouted, "Take your shoes off! Never go on that floor with street shoes on!" "I'm sorry, Adam, I didn't know," he said as he sheepishly tiptoed back. "No harm this time! Now you know... You'll get used to it. Come on there's more to see." We went to the changing room, showers, then to the lounge. "Do you think you're going to like it here?" "Pinch me, Adam! I fear I'm dreaming!" I slapped him on the rump. He jumped, then laughing he grabbed my hand and whispered, "I'm hungry..." That's a sentence I've often heard since. I love it! We went back to the car, fought traffic out of town and pulled up at the pub close to quarter to six. We ordered and ate and he asked if he could have seconds. We ordered again. It was wonderful watching him eat. His pleasure was so obvious that it almost made me regret not being twenty any longer. Well, we were well fed and our thirst very well quenched when we entered the cottage. I do have a whole wall of books and at least a hundred or so LPs by the hi-fi. Those were the first things Evan spotted once inside. He plopped his duffle bags on the floor and then looked around, smiling. "Your home is all a guy could want. I love it! It's uncluttered, cosy, with a wonderful fireplace and books galore!" "I'm glad you like it." "And flowers... I love flowers, Adam!" "Let me show you your room. Grab your bag... it's upstairs." We put his bag on the sofa-bed and went back down. "Now let me show you the rest, the kitchen and my room and bath. He approved of everything, especially the bathroom. "I could spend hours in that!" he said, indicating the tub, "It's big enough for two!" "I guess you'd like to wash up after a day in the train..." "Yes, I do! Oh, Adam, let's take a bath together. I feel I could use one and I love getting wet with you! Remember dunking in the loch?" "I really don't need..." "Come on! I'll wash your back!" I just laughed, turned on the big hot water tap as Evan began undressing. I poured some bubble bath under the abundant flow, quickly filling the tub. It instantly foamed, filling the air with jasmine scented steam. "Wow! That looks like fun!" he exclaimed, leaning over the tub and taking a handful of suds, putting them on his head, giggling. I slowly undressed, leaning on the sink, enjoying the sight of my 'merman' discovering the joys of simple luxury. He slid in the bath, I followed suit and we slithered together, rubbing each other, lathering our hair, teasing and groping our cocks. We ended up facing each other, somehow our legs wrapped around and even under as we slowly leaned together and shared a long needed kiss. Almost in a whisper, Evan, murmured, "Adam, I know that patience whets passion, but I'm not patient any more. I know you want me as much as I want you, so don't deny me, please, I pray you, Please... Adam. Let's share your bed tonight. I can't face you being down here alone and me up there alone too." "Are you sure, Evan? Don't you think we should..." He put his finger on my lips, interrupting me, and said, "I've never been so sure in my life! My mother told me to always take care of my dreams. I want to take care of you, Adam! You are my dream. I need to live this with you, feel you, taste you, have you in me so that I can know it's true -- and not only a dream, but also a promise! Take me to your bed... Please!" There was no turning back. What had to be, was. We stepped out of the bath, toweled each other and climbed in bed. With absolutely no hesitation nor obstacle, nature led us to the threshold of ecstasy. As we slowly stroked each other, Evan whispered in my ear, "You are the sun for which I dance," and he began kissing, licking, humming his way down my chest, into my pubes, finally swallowing my cock, swirling his tongue, sucking me deep, fondling my balls as I writhed. I humped his throat, uncontrollably, and he gagged a bit. He never relinquished his drive to quench his thirst with my semen. My jaws ached to suck him too. I worked my way around, pulling his pelvis to my mouth and sucked him to the hilt. He squirmed in my mouth, urging my throat, whimpering as he bobbed his head. Our rhythms synced. Our bodies undulated with the rising tide of our orgasms colliding. I swallowed, guzzling his precious juice spewing into my throat as mine gushed, surging from the very depths of my soul into his avid mouth. He swallowed, spun around and kissed me, licking my own tongue, mixing our remaining semen, feeding our merging souls. Limp as a sleeping babe, he covered me as I stroked his back, his buttocks, the nape of his neck. The scent of his sweaty hair was a precious perfume to me. Overcome with happiness, I began laughing. A laugh of bliss, of completion, of simple glee began to rumble deep down inside, erupting like distant thunder beneath Evan, making him bounce on my belly. He arched, and his boyish laughter mingling with mine. He grabbed my head, fell over on his side and pulled me on top of him, out of breath with joy. Finally quiet, we laid there, enlaced. I caressed his cheek, feathering him with my fingertip, kissing his eyelids. He purred, nudging me closer. "Adam, at the break of dawn, I need you to take me, all the way. It will be my dawn dance with your sun deep inside." "I'll be there, Evan. Welcome home." ---------- I penetrated him as the sun shed its light on the bed. I then received him in me. Never had bliss and belonging been so intense, so meaningful. We spent the morning, cuddling and playing over and over. "I'm so happy here in bed with you. I could make love with you every night! Can I move in here with you?" "You mean like if we were married." "Exactly!" We decided to put my off-season clothes in the upstairs closet making room for Evan's clothes in with mine. We decided to put my desk up there too, making the room a kind of study. As we were unpacking Evan's things, I noticed that he had very few decent clothes and only two pairs of shoes, both rather rustic to say the least. I'm not a fashion victim but I do appreciate quality clothes: simple, becoming, and easy to clean. "Evan, now that you're a city dweller, how would you like to have some new clothes? We need to go shopping anyway for your dance attire, so why not profit to dress you up a little?" "I'd like to, Adam, but all I've got to my name is twenty-seven pounds sterling from my last pay, saving and the sale of my skiff... and I have no idea of how far that can take me here." "That's a neat little sum. Not too bad! But as I told you, you're living expenses are covered. I suggest we add ten pounds to your fortune for clothes, dance attire and study supplies. How does that sound?" "It sounds too good to be true, so if you insist..." "I insist!" We went first to buy dance attire. He looked great in his tights. He said he had to get used to the slippers and hated the idea of a dance belt exclaiming that it would crush his balls! "You'll get used to it!" I stated. After that, we went shopping for street attire. It was fun seeing Evan and the shop owner himself working on his choices. The hardest choice was the shoes. We overshot the five pounds for some very elegant, confortable shoes and sneakers. At the end, I had the most handsome, young companion beside me as we left the shop, loaded with packages and sacks. We stuffed everything in the car and indulged, the both of us, in a haircut. When we got back home, Evan modeled for me and it seemed that we couldn't get enough of making love to each other. So that's what we did all weekend long until it came time to start classes. We were both satiated, radiating our joy of living when it came time to show up at the Academy. Evan's formalities were quickly taken care of. Alfred gave him a very warm greeting saying, "I'm anxious to admire your work, young man." "I'll do my best, Sir," he stuttered, suddenly looking bashful. "With Adam's guidance, of that I'm sure!" That was a year ago. I'll just add this little epilogue. Winter came and went. We took long walks in the woods and went canoeing on nearby Loch Lomond on weekends. For the spring break we returned to camp out on our island in Loch Morar. The sunrise was even more astounding as we danced, this time, together! Father McKinley and Mrs. Grimley were glad to see him. Evan introduced me to his mother. His father was away fishing and his siblings were either gone like him or in school. It was a polite moment and that was all. All Evan said was, "I knew they wouldn't understand, Adam..." Evan's dance had progressed like lightning. He studied and read a lot on his own. He turned out to be a very decent cook. We enjoyed the kitchen a lot together. It became his job to light the fire and keep it going. Evan fitted in quite well with the other dancers. He was invited to stay over for a party or two with his colleagues after which he was really quite happy and even more eager to see me! Our love life is just as creative as our dance and it just gets better as time slides by, increasing openness and trust in each other. Many a candlelit evening was spent massaging each other, taking and giving our semen in the most intimate ways possible. Just pure love in the making. For the Academy's end-of-the-year gala in the Royal Theatre, Evan was requested to create a solo and asked me to do the choreography for him. "You know my deepest intimacy, Adam. Please reveal me to myself, even more than you already do by giving me and the world 'our' dance." The music department agreed to play and sing O Fortuna from Carmina Burana by Karl Orff for the music and Evan chose the simple word "Dawn" for the title. It was a smashing success! It won't be long before he's noticed for professional performing. "What will we become when you are a superstar, Evan?" "You'll simply be the famous choreographer of the superstar!" That's what's happening now. ---------- A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at .