Scarface and the Alien - Chapter Fifteen


Okay, this is the final chapter, so hopefully by the end of it all the loose ends should have been dealt with, more or less...

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On Thursday evening of the following week – this was July 3rd – Young waited until Hamilton got off the bus and then came and sat next to Luke. Apart from the occasional greeting – generally friendly on the bus (where there were none of their classmates to see what was going on) and neutral at school – neither Young nor Hamilton had said a lot to Luke. But now it became clear that Young at least had things to tell him.

“You know I told you I was sure Matt was enjoying being fucked?” he began. “Well, it’s really obvious that he does enjoy it – if I don’t mention it for a couple of days he always finds a way to bring the subject up. Except it isn’t just being fucked: he wants me to be able to do anything I want to him. Well, obviously because we’re still mates I’ll only be doing the things he wants, and he knows by now how to tell me what those are: if he begs me not to do something then he knows I’ll do it as soon as I can.

“Anyway, this week he decided I ought to be filming everything that happens to him. What he actually said was ‘I bet you’ve got a camera hidden somewhere in your room recording everything that happens there, just to make sure you’ve got loads of evidence if I ever tried to stop doing what you tell me to. And I suppose you’re going to borrow Sinclair’s camcorder so you can do it properly, now you realise I know about it.’ So I thought I might do just that – except I want you to come and do the filming for us. That’ll embarrass him no end, but I reckon he’ll actually like the idea, even though he’ll never admit it. So, what are you doing on Saturday?”

“Nothing definite,” said Luke, who hoped for a chance to spend some time with Martin but hadn’t actually arranged anything so far.

“Good. Come over after lunch – say about half-past two. And don’t forget the camera.” He gave Luke a piece of paper with an address written on it. “Walk up Duskett Drive, cross over Fielding Road and it's the first little close on the left,” he explained, and he got off the bus.

So on the Saturday Luke cycled over to Young’s house as soon as he had finished lunch. Young met him at the door and opened the side gate for him so that he could wheel the bike round to the back of the house.

“He’s in the studio,” said Young, nodding in the direction of a shed at the bottom of the garden. “I put him in there as soon as we finished eating and confiscated his clothes, so unless he wants to streak he’s stuck there… come to think of it, maybe he would enjoy it if I made him streak. I’ll find out what he thinks later. Oh, and you’ll never guess what he wants to do today – though I’m not sure whether he’ll still want to do it with you there.”

“What?”

“He wants to suck me off. Obviously what he actually said was something like ‘Now you’ve got more film of me I suppose you could force me to do anything at all, even if it was something really bad like sucking your cock,’ but I got the message, so this afternoon he’ll get a chance to find out if he likes doing it or not. If he does, and if I like it – and people say it feels really great – then we’ll be doing it again. Got the camera? Let’s go, then.”

He strode off down the garden with Luke at his heels.

“He’s even said a few things recently that suggest he wants me to beat him,” Young continued. “I’m not sure I fancy that, and I don’t think he will either if we really do it, but he was definitely angling for it last night. Maybe he just wants to try it once to find out what it’s like – I mean, I know some people do like getting whipped and stuff, even if it seems mad to me. But if he does want to try that the studio is the best place for it, because it’s sound-proofed.”

He opened the door to the shed, and Luke saw that it was quite different from the shed in his own garden. For a start, this one was bigger, and the walls were lined with some sort of white board. And instead of tools and a lawn-mower it held an old sofa, a stack of kitchen chairs… and a drum kit.

“You play the drums?” he asked.

Young nodded. “That’s why my parents fitted this place out for me – they were getting fed up with me practising indoors. It’s completely sound-proofed and double-glazed, so the neighbours won’t hear me and complain. So if anyone were to start screaming in here, nobody would hear or come to investigate. And unless you want me to prove that, you’d better come out, Matt.”

Hamilton stood up slowly – he’d been hiding behind the sofa, which was the only place in the studio he could hide.

“What’s he doing here?” he asked.

Luke couldn’t read his face or his tone of voice, so he wasn’t sure if Hamilton was really happy about his presence or not.

“I thought he’d be interested,” said Young. “And he’s brought his camera along, look.”

Luke pulled the camcorder from his pocket and showed it to Hamilton. Hamilton’s facial expression didn’t change, but his body reacted in a completely different way, and one that entirely vindicated everything Young had said so far: clearly Hamilton was pleased to see Luke, or at least his camera. He moved his hands to cover his groin, but nothing like quickly enough to hide his condition.

“You pervert!” exclaimed Young. “Were you playing with yourself while you were waiting? Well, okay, if that’s what you want to do, lie on the sofa and get on with it. Turn the camera on, Sinclair.”

This didn’t appear to be on Hamilton’s list of things he wanted to try, but Young insisted, and he was forced to lie on the sofa and masturbate while Luke filmed him. Young kept up a stream of derogatory comments about how disgusting he was, and then switched to commenting on the size of Hamilton’s equipment.

“Just how long is that little thing, anyway?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Hamilton.

“Don’t lie! I know you measure it.”

“I don’t, I swear!”

“Then do it now,” said Young, pulling a small plastic ruler from his pocket and tossing it onto Hamilton’s stomach.

“Do I have to?” asked Hamilton, plaintively.

“Don’t ask stupid questions. Just do it, or else.”

So Hamilton held the ruler against his erection and Luke zoomed in so that the ruler could be seen clearly on the screen.

“Well?” asked Young.

“It’s about nine centimetres,” said Hamilton, not meeting his eye.

“’About’?”

“Okay, it’s eight and a half.”

“That’s really pathetic for a thirteen-year-old, isn’t it, Sinclair?”

“It’s a hell of a lot smaller than yours and mine, certainly.”

“And he’s older than both of us. Okay, Little Cock, get on with it.”

Hamilton started masturbating again and kept going until he ejaculated, producing a couple of spurts of thin liquid.

“Pathetic!” commented Young. ‘”Obviously you need to see what a real boy looks like.” He threw his clothes off and sat on the sofa.

“Now suck me off,” he ordered.

“I can’t do that!” said Hamilton. “Come on, Sammy, that’s filthy!”

“It should suit you perfectly, then. Get on with it, unless you want me to start handing copies of what’s in Sinclair’s camera round the form.”

It was obvious that Hamilton had never done this before because he wasn’t sure quite how to do it – should he use his hands? Exactly what should he do once it was in his mouth? Young had never been in this position, either, but he was able to issue instructions that eventually led to it feeling really nice, and once that point was reached he ordered Hamilton to carry on like that. And Luke filmed it all, finding it fascinating and wondering what it felt like on be on the receiving end.

It took a while, but before too long Young was holding the back of Hamilton’s head and thrusting against it, and it looked to Luke as if this was giving Hamilton a few problems – he guessed that Young’s penis was more than long enough to hit the back of Hamilton’s throat if he allowed it to. But then Hamilton started holding the base of Young’s penis, and that seemed to resolve that problem. And after that he just kept bobbing up and down until Young‘s body tensed up and he ejaculated into Hamilton’s mouth.

“Swallow it,” ordered Young as Hamilton started looking around for somewhere to spit, and after a moment’s hesitation he did.

“What was that like?” asked Luke.

“That was bloody amazing. I like fucking him more, but that was a pretty close second. Why don’t you have a go and find out for yourself?”

Luke thought about that. He thought this was a pretty disgusting thing to make someone do, even if that someone was a bully who had made his life miserable for weeks on end… but Hamilton showed no signs of objecting, and in fact he was just kneeling there waiting – with, Luke noticed, an erection, even though he had only ejaculated a short time previously. And that decided him: if Hamilton was happy to do it, he was happy to give it a try.

“Okay, then,” he said, and he gave the camera to Young and stripped off, revealing that he was already in the mood: he wasn’t as big as Young, but he was demonstrably bigger than Hamilton. He sat on the sofa and Hamilton shuffled forward and slipped it into his mouth.

Luke thought it felt pretty good – as Young had said, actual fucking was better: he didn’t think anything could compare with the way he felt when he coupled with Martin, though of course there was an emotional connection there, too. But this was still nice, and as Hamilton worked on him it got nicer, until eventually he couldn’t hold it back any longer. He pulled Hamilton hard against him and held him there until it was over.

“You were right,” he told Young. “That was nice. Thanks, Hamilton.”

“You don’t have to thank him,” Young pointed out. “He does as he’s told unless he wants to be in deep shit. Anyway, let’s have a bit of a break until I’m ready to fuck him. Get dressed and we’ll have a drink – there’s some Coke in the little fridge in the corner.”

“Can I get dressed?” asked Hamilton.

“Obviously not. Perverts stay naked.”

Luke and Young got dressed and Young handed round the Coke (and he gave one to Hamilton, even if, as he said, the older boy didn’t deserve it), and they sat on the sofa to rest for a bit.

“So, are you any good on those?” asked Luke, indicating the drum kit.

“Well… sort of. I’m taking proper lessons, but I can understand why my parents didn’t want me in the house.”

“Only we were thinking of starting a band,” Luke told him, “and we need a drummer.”

“Really? Who’s in it?”

“So far, just me and Mars.”

“What, the loony? Is he safe?”

“He’s not a loony. We made all that stuff up, about him being a psycho and getting thrown out of school and stuff, because we reckoned if you were scared of him you wouldn’t struggle, and then I could fight Hamilton in peace. He’s home-schooled, but it’s because he’s super-brainy, not because he’s a nutter.”

“You bastard! I almost wet myself when he put that pencil in my ear!”

“That was the idea. It was his idea, actually – I told you he was brainy. Anyway, he plays the piano – and any other keyboards we can get hold of, I suppose - and can sing a bit, and I play the guitar and can sing fairly well. And you play the drums. I don’t suppose you can play the bass guitar, can you, Hamilton?”

“No, I play the clarinet, and that’s not really any use in a rock band. But I might be able to learn. I can read music okay.”

“Do you know anyone else who plays the guitar?” asked Luke.

“Well, not really. There’s a Spanish kid in 2B who plays flamenco, but I don’t really know him and to judge by what he did at the end of term concert at Christmas he’s only interested in classical stuff. If Matt really reckons he could learn it would be a lot better – at least with him we could keep him under control and stop him from turning into a drug-fuelled rock maniac who trashes hotel rooms.”

“I’d never do drugs,” Hamilton said. “I don’t even smoke, you know that, Sammy.”

“True, and you never will now either, unless you want some of our pictures of you to start circulating.”

“Trouble is, if you haven’t already got a bass we’re going to have to get one from somewhere,” said Luke. “And instruments are bloody expensive, and of course we’d need an amp and speakers, too.”

“We might be able to find something second hand,” said Young. “There are usually instruments for sale in the local paper, or we could try eBay or something. We might as well start looking, anyway.”

“Would you really want to be in a band with me and Mars, though? I mean, we’re not exactly mates, are we?”

“I don’t know – I reckon we could be. You fight pretty well, and you let us down a lot more lightly than you could have done. If it had been me I’d have passed the film around anyway.”

“Yes, but then I’d have lost my insurance.”

“Right, but I’m not sure I’d have wanted to risk fighting you again after I’d seen you take Matt to pieces, even with two of us against one of you. And anyway, there’s not a lot of point in learning to play the drums unless you’re going to use it in a band. Okay, I don’t think I’m good enough yet, but it’d be more fun practising with other people instead of on my own using tapes, which is what I do at the moment.”

“What about you, Hamilton? Could you stand being in a band with a freak?”

“It’s not up to me any more, is it? I have to do what I’m told, unless I want Sammy passing dirty pictures of me round the class.”

“Don’t be stupid, of course it’s up to you. What Young does to you is sort of a private game between you two… okay, it might not be a game to you, but it is to him, and I don’t think he wants to run your whole life from now on. This is completely different. If none of the films existed, would you want to do it?”

“Well… probably. I mean, who doesn’t want to be in a band? Even if we’re completely crap to start with, we’d get better. And as for what I think about you… like I told you, I respect the way you fight. And I agree with Sam about the way you didn’t use the film – fuck, you didn’t even tell anyone else you beat the shit out of me. If I’d won I’d have made bloody sure every kid in the form knew about it. I reckon the question is more would you want to be in a band with me and Sam?”

“We need a drummer,” said Luke, “and Sam’s the only one I know… is it okay for me to call you ‘Sam’, Young? Thanks… and at least I know you two. And of course if you two piss me off I’ve still got the film. Or I’ll set Mars loose with the Pencil of Death.”

“No, thanks,” said Young. “I reckon he was right, anyway: you really could kill someone that way, and I don’t want to find out what it’s like being pencilled. So… obviously it would be easiest if we could practise here, because it takes ages setting the drum kit up if I have to move it, and this place is sound-proofed… and nobody will interrupt us here, so if I don’t think Matt deserves to keep his clothes on he won’t have to. But there’s no piano here, so we’d have to try to find a keyboard as well as a bass if we do that.”

“Well, let’s start asking about and checking second-hand shops and stuff,” said Luke. “And I’ll have a look at eBay when I get home. Like Hamilton says, we’d probably be crap to start with, but it would still be a laugh.”

They talked about music for a while and found they had similar tastes, and Hamilton said he liked a lot of metal bands, which Luke thought would please Martin. And then Young told Hamilton to bend over the sofa and get ready to be fucked, and Hamilton obeyed without the remotest hesitation.

Luke filmed them, of course, managing to catch the look on Hamilton’s face when he lost control of himself as well as the look on Young’s when he reached his own climax some time later, and when they had finished and stood up to clean themselves off he also made a point of filming the small damp mark on the sofa that indicated where Hamilton had been lying.

Once they were dressed he told them that he had to leave if he was to be home in time for tea. He promised Young he’d get the film on a CD and give it to him on Monday morning, and then he rode home and phoned Martin.


Saturday July 5th

Luke called me this evening to tell me that he thinks he’s found the rest of our band: apparently Young plays the drums, and Hamilton says he’ll learn to play the bass guitar if we can find one. He plays the clarinet, so he does have some musical experience. I said I was surprised that Luke wanted to be in a band with those two, but he said they’ve been completely different towards him since the fight, and not just because he’s got that film of them, either. And if they ever do change the way they are now he’ll still have the film to hold over them.

I don’t mind, of course: the only time I’ve met them was that day in the dip, so if Luke is happy playing in a band with them, I am too. Young even has a sound-proofed room for us to practise in, though we’ll need to find a portable keyboard and a bass guitar, amplifier and speaker before we can start properly. Maybe my parents might help me to buy a keyboard – after all, playing in a band with three other boys would be a really good way for me to develop my social relationship skills, which is something I probably need to do. I’m going to ask, anyway.

Luke says Hamilton likes metal, so we could probably play covers of music by my favourite bands, though I’d like to try writing some stuff of my own. I think I could do that: Mother says I have a good understanding of music theory. I might even try writing something for keyboard, guitar, drums and clarinet so we would have something to play together until we find a bass – though I think that’s a weird combination and so it would probably sound a bit strange. Still, it would be a good challenge.

He’s coming over tomorrow to film the first segment of my puberty record. I’m going to use the cream when I have my bath this evening so I don’t have any hair at the start of the film, and I’ve worked out what I’m going to say at the very beginning to introduce the film. I think this is going to be a really interesting project, and if I manage to keep doing it – if I don’t decide to stop doing it because my personality changes the way my mother says often happens, that is – I think it’ll be fascinating to look back at when I’m older. Miles says it might even make a good educational film for schools, though I’m not sure about having anyone except my family and my special friends, like Luke, seeing a film of me undressed.

We’ve decided to cut it down to less than a minute for two reasons: first, I don’t think we need a full minute every week (perhaps we could do a minute on my birthday or on the anniversary of the start of the film); and second, we’ll be able to get a longer period onto the same length DVD, which will be useful if my body takes more than three years to finish changing, which Luke says it probably will. I hope once Miles sees how it’s going we’ll be able to persuade him to keep a record, too: it’ll be really interesting from a scientific point of view to see if there are any major differences in the speed of development between siblings…


Graham’s grounding had finally ended this week and Miles had arranged to meet him and as many of the other members of the gang who were free on the Sunday afternoon: he wanted to go and have a proper look at the old camp and see what they could do to transform it into a proper headquarters. But he didn’t want to miss the start of Martin’s film, so he persuaded his brother to invite Luke over for lunch and to shoot the film either before eating or immediately afterwards.

They had time before lunch to shoot the introduction, which was simply Martin (fully dressed) explaining the purpose of the film.

“My name is Martin Gillespie,” he began. “I was born on August 25th 1995. Today is July 6th 2008, so I am about seven weeks short of my thirteenth birthday. This is going to be a record of what happens to a boy’s body when he reaches puberty: every week we’re going to film me for around forty seconds so that when the sections of film are joined together you’ll be able to see exactly what happens to me over the next three years or so. There will be a chart behind me to show how tall I am, and each week I will say how heavy I am and will also tell the camera if I have noticed anything changing.

“My brother Miles and my friend Luke will be doing the filming, so I’d like to thank them now for their help. Okay, that’s all I need to say, so the first recording will follow on straight away.”

It didn’t, in fact, because they went downstairs for lunch first. But after lunch they went back to Martin’s room and set everything up: Martin got undressed, went to the bathroom to check his weight on the bathroom scales and then came and stood in the position he had marked for himself in front of the height chart, facing the camera with his legs a little apart. Luke got the camcorder out and turned it on, nodding when he was ready. Martin said, Okay, go!” and as soon as the little light on the camera came on he said, “Today is July 6th 2008. I am twelve years and three hundred and sixteen days old. I am four feet eleven and a half inches tall, or a hundred and fifty-one centimetres, and I weigh exactly six stones or thirty-six kilos. This is the first week of the record, so there is nothing to report yet.”

Luke started with a full-length short and then, once Martin had finished talking, he zoomed in on Martin’s face and then panned slowly down his body, pausing in the genital area. When he reached the feet Martin moved to stand sideways on and put his hands on his head, and Luke then panned slowly up again. When he reached the head he held shot for a couple of seconds and then turned the camera off.

“Come and see what you think,” he said, and without bothering to get dressed Martin came and stood beside Luke and Miles and watched as Luke played it back.

“I don’t go too fast, do I?” Luke asked.

“No, it looks fine. Maybe you’ll need to take a little longer once things start changing, but for now that’s a good speed. How long did it last?”

“Exactly forty seconds. Of course, you’ll be able to cut down the intro a bit from now on – you know, next week you can just say ‘July 13th, twelve years three hundred and twenty-three days, four feet eleven and a half, a hundred and fifty-one centimetres, six stones, thirty-six kilos, nothing new,’ and that’ll save a few seconds.”

“Okay, maybe I’ll do that. Thanks, Luke… can you stay for a while? We can listen to some music.”

“Okay. Er, were you thinking of getting dressed? I mean, I won’t mind at all if you don’t want to, but just in case your mother comes in I think maybe you should…”

“Or we could wedge the chair under the door handle and you could get undressed as well – as soon as Miles has gone, that is. You did say you were going out this afternoon, Miles, didn’t you?”

Miles would quite liked to have stayed and watched, but he didn’t think they’d let him, so he nodded and went out, closing the door behind him. And once he was out of the way Luke wedged the chair into place and got undressed, and then they lay down together on Martin’s bed to listen to some music and to do anything else that came into their heads.


Miles rode to Graham’s house, and then they rode together to the Greyhound, where they had arranged to meet the rest of the gang. Most of them were there, although Toby wasn’t, despite Graham inviting him personally on the Friday afternoon.

“You’ll be okay,” he had assured him. “We’re never going to do that sort of stuff to you again.”

“I know,” Toby had replied. “And next time I’ll definitely come. It’s just that I’ve already arranged something for Sunday afternoon.”

The ‘something’ was a visit to Josh’s house. In fact when he had mentioned it to Miles and Twitch they had both said it would be fine to bring Josh along with him, and he’d thought about it and decided that next time he would do that. But this weekend he wanted to try some stuff, just him and Josh in a locked room: kissing, for a start, and undressing each other, and… well, that sort of thing.

The rest of the gang had fun working on the camp. Kevin had brought along a set of garden cutters so that they could remove some of the branches inside the bush and so make space to rig up the tarpaulin into a decent shelter, and although they weren’t sure how well it would stay up in a really strong wind they were happy that it would keep the rain off of anyone underneath it.

They spent the rest of the afternoon fighting a number of war games through the woods. This involved a lot of wrestling, but nobody tried to hurt anyone else, and nobody made anyone strip, either, which disappointed quite a few members of the gang. Afterwards Miles gave Twitch a ride home and stayed long enough to check out the new carriages they had bought for the model railway – and long enough for a cuddle, though nothing more on this occasion.


Over the next two weeks Luke went round to film Young and Hamilton in action a couple more times. It was fairly obvious that Hamilton was still keen on what was going on (at least if his ever-present erection was anything to go by), though that was put rather to the test on the second occasion, when he finally got the beating he’d been angling for: apparently he’d been needling Young all day, so after school all three of them went to Young’s studio, where Hamilton was stripped, tied down over the sofa and had his buttocks roundly thrashed with his own fairly heavy belt. Luke filmed it as usual, and he got the impression afterwards that this was one experiment Hamilton might not want to repeat.

But he showed no inclination to protest about being made to suck or being fucked, which happened every time. Luke was quite happy to be sucked, but he declined Young’s offer to fuck Hamilton: as far as he was concerned he only wanted to do that with Martin.


Saturday July 19th

Something really brilliant happened today: I got an early birthday present, and a really good one. My dad had found a second-hand synthesizer (I’m not sure where, or even which country it was in, because of course he’s been away somewhere in the Far East this week), and although my birthday isn’t until the end of August he decided to give it to me now – he said that if he kept it until my birthday there would only be a week of the school holidays left for me and my friends to use it, whereas by giving it to me now we’d have the whole of the holidays (apart from when we’re away with our families, of course) to practise using it. Of course it means I’ll only get a couple of little presents when my birthday actually does come round, but I don’t mind that at all.

So I called Luke and he came straight over to look at it. It’s going to take me ages to work out how to use it properly, because there are loads of buttons and knobs and slides on it as well as a normal keyboard, but there’s a manual that goes with it, so I expect I’ll work it all out eventually.

The school holidays start this week – the last day of term is on Tuesday – so Luke called Young and arranged for us to get together at the studio on Wednesday afternoon. This will be our first proper practice, though we still haven’t found a bass for Hamilton. Still, the synthesizer should be able to fill in a bass line until we do, and I’m going to try to arrange something to include a line for clarinet so that Hamilton will be able to join in even without a bass.

Once he’d made the call to Young we went to my room, closed the door and wedged my chair against the door handle to make sure that nobody came in, and then we got undressed and mated again. I still don’t understand why it feels so incredible – I mean, I get why Luke likes it, because I can understand how it might feel the same as doing it with a girl, but I don’t know why it feels so good from my point of view, because I’m not a girl and I don’t have any of the things a girl has. But I’m not complaining because it’s wonderful – wonderful enough that it made me get that weird feeling again, though today I’d made sure I was lying on a small towel just in case.

Afterwards we managed to sneak to the bathroom and back without anyone seeing us, and once we’d cleaned up we went back to my room and wedged the door shut again. And then came what I think might be the best bit of all: we lay on the bed together without any clothes on, and Luke just held me. We didn’t need to speak, even: we just lay like that for ages, and I felt totally protected and safe with his strong arms holding me. And then…

I still can’t believe this bit, but it really happened. Then he looked at me and said (and I’ll try to write down exactly what he said): ‘Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me. It’s totally changed the way I am and the way I think about stuff. I really love you, Martin.’ And then he kissed me on the forehead.

I didn’t know what to say, but I managed to tell him that I loved him too, and that I hoped we’d be friends for ever. And I kissed him on the cheek, and then we just lay there for a bit longer until my mother called up from downstairs to ask if Luke wanted to stay for lunch. So he opened the door long enough to shout ‘Yes, please’, and then we got dressed and went downstairs. But I think I’d have to say that today has been the best day of my life so far.


On the Wednesday afternoon Martin’s mother gave him (and the synthesizer) a lift to Young’s house. He found the others were already there, so they were able to help him carry his equipment to the studio. What followed was more of a prolonged jam session than a proper rehearsal for any eventual performance, but it gave them a chance to play together, and it also allowed Martin to see that Luke knew some basic chords, that Young could keep a rhythm and that Hamilton was quite a decent player of the clarinet, though whether this would transfer to the bass remained to be seen. And it was fun, too.

After an hour or so they took a break.

“Did you bring the camera?” Young asked Luke, who nodded and took it out of his bag.

“Good. Okay, Matt, strip.”

“Oh, God, do I have to? I mean, it’s not just Luke here today…”

“Of course you have to. It’s not as if Mars hasn’t seen you before, is it?”

“Well, no. But still…”

“Just do it, or we might have to beat you again. I see you’re wearing that nice heavy belt…”

Hamilton hesitated but then began to get undressed, though the fact that he had an erection when his boxers came off did rather undermine his professed reluctance.

“Better,” said Young. “Now kneel down and bend over the edge of the sofa – you know how to do it.”

Hamilton did that, folding up a small towel underneath him first (which suggested to Martin that he wasn’t the only one who had trouble controlling himself when this was done to him) and spreading his legs a little without waiting to be told to do that, and Young got busy with the Vaseline and then lined up and started to fuck him. Luke was already at work with his camera, so Martin just sat on one of the hard-backed chairs and watched with interest.

Once it was over Young wiped himself down and got dressed, throwing a couple of tissues at Hamilton.

“There’s no need for you to get dressed yet,” he told him. “Now, I’m going to the house – my mother’s got some sandwiches and stuff for us. Luke” (by now all of them were on first-name terms), “would you like to come and give me a hand? Mars, feel free to amuse yourself while we’re gone. Did you bring your pencil with you?” And he grinned and led Luke off up the garden.

“You didn’t, did you?” asked Hamilton, nervously.

“No. And we told you I’m not really mad, so I wouldn’t do something like that anyway. Why don’t you sit down?”

So Hamilton got up, and Martin noticed the damp patch on the towel before he folded it up, put it on the floor and sat on the sofa.

“That feels really good, doesn’t it?” commented Martin.

“What, being fucked? No, of course it doesn’t – I hate it,” replied Hamilton, looking flustered.

“Why are you lying? It’s obvious you really enjoyed it.”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes, it is. It was obvious from looking at your eyes while it was happening, and I know you lost control of yourself – I saw the towel. So why are you trying to pretend you didn’t like it?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are, but I don’t understand why. I mean, I love it when Luke does it to me – it’s the best feeling in the world. So why don’t you want Sam to know how much you like it?”

“Luke fucks you?”

“Yes, and it’s amazing. I don’t talk about it with anyone else, of course, because it’s private, but since you and Sam do the same thing I don’t think it needs to be secret from you.”

“Oh. But… aren’t you ashamed? And don’t you think Luke will think you’re queer?”

“Well, he already knows I’m a bit unusual. Everyone says I don’t think the same way as other people – it comes of being part-alien, I think. But I’m not worried about Luke, because I know he really likes me. And Sam likes you, doesn’t he? So why do you think he’ll like you less if you admit you like mating with him?”

“Well… because… look, boys aren’t supposed to like being fucked! Only queers like taking it up the arse, and I don’t want Sam thinking I’m queer, okay?”

“But aren’t you?”

“No! Well… shit, I don’t know. I didn’t think so until it happened for the first time, and I still don’t really think so, except… you’re right, it feels amazing, and it makes me come every time. But it’s wrong to be like that! And I don’t want anyone to know I like it in case it makes them think I’m bent, because if that got out at school I’d get treated like shit. So I have to pretend I don’t want it to happen and that I’m only doing it because I don’t have any choice. I don’t even want Sam to know I like it in case he tells everyone else.”

“I think he already knows you like it – it is fairly obvious. But I don’t think he’ll tell anyone else, because obviously he wants to stay friends with you. So I think it would be safe to admit to him that you like doing it.”

“Well… maybe I’ll think about it. But it works okay as it is, I think: it makes him feel good being in charge and being able to boss me about, and it makes me feel good letting him do whatever he wants to me and knowing he’s enjoying it, so maybe I don’t really need to say anything that might change things. And you’re not going to tell him or Luke, are you – please?”

“Not unless you want me to. After all, it isn’t my business, is it?”

The other two came back with the food and they ate and talked about music for a bit, and then Young told Hamilton to get dressed and they played some more music together. And by the time the session ended they all thought that even if they weren’t very good at the moment, if they practised they would improve. And playing together was fun, anyway.


Friday July 25th

Today was Miles’s eleventh birthday, so he had a party and invited all his friends. There were ten of them, and they all seem to like him, so obviously my brother is really good at making friends. They weren’t all the same type, either: some of them were the same type as Graham, sort of sporty and outdoor, but Noel was there too, and so were Toby and a couple of other quieter kids: a pale, mousy sort of boy who stayed close to Toby and a slightly older boy who was also wearing glasses. And there was even a girl, so maybe Miles is starting to grow up and look at girls, although this one seemed to have a boyfriend already.

When Miles used to have parties in London I sometimes felt sad watching him – not jealous, exactly, because I always thought I didn’t really need friends, but more as if I was on the outside of something looking in. But I didn’t feel that at all this time because now I have some friends, too. I suppose Matt and Sam aren’t quite proper friends yet, though I think they’re on the way, but Luke is different: Luke has changed me in lots of ways. I’ve discovered that having a proper friend is something special, and that even the things I could do on my own, like reading and listening to music, are somehow enormously better when you have someone to do those things with. And of course there are lots of things that you can only do with a friend – wrestling and helping each other to climb trees and playing in a band… and mating, of course.

We’re going to spend a lot of time together this summer, and I’m really looking forward to it. We’re going to go camping a few times – we’ll ask Miles and Noel if they want to come, provided we can find a second tent, and we might even ask Matt and Sam if they want to try it, though not at the same time as Miles and Noel. I might not even mind sharing a tent with those two, because I think it would be okay for Luke and I to mate even with them in the tent: they’d probably want to do the same thing with each other, even if Matt is still pretending he doesn’t want to.

It’s really strange to think that we’ve only been here for one school term, because so much has happened: I’ve started to go through puberty – and I’m sure I won’t get moody and bad-tempered because I wouldn’t ever do anything that might make Luke stop liking me – and I’ve found a true friend.

At the start of this journal I said that it wasn’t easy being me, and that I thought I might end up killing myself. But now I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening, because I’ve found out that being different doesn’t mean you have to be on your own. After all, Luke likes me because I’m different. So perhaps it’s true that anyone, if they are lucky enough, can find ways to be happy. Even an alien!

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So, as generally happens in my stories, everything seems to have worked out in the end. Okay, real life isn't actually like that sometimes, but I don't really care: I like happy endings.

Of course, you may not agree, in which case please write and say so! In fact I'd be grateful to receive any type of feedback: tell me what worked for you and what didn't, and I'll bear it in mind when I write my next story. And I'm sure I will be writing another one before too long – at least, I will if I think I actually have any readers out there. Otherwise I won't bother. So if you would like another tale, write to me at gothmog@nyms.net

Many, many thanks to everyone who has responded as this story has unfolded – I truly appreciate that you took the trouble to write in. Thanks in particular to my friend JJ for giving me the basic idea from which this story grew.

Copyright 2009: all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part of it anywhere without my written permission.

David Clarke