Westpoint Tales

by Kiwi

The Last Time

Chapter 7

Days, and then weeks went past. They kept themselves to themselves and thought that nobody knew what they were doing. They were wrong. Their friends and family were not stupid and more than a few people had their suspicions about what was going on.

Christmas was coming and that was the busiest time of the year for the choir. The Westpoint Community Singers were very much involved in carol services and other concerts and end-of-year functions.

A hectic schedule was planned and rehearsals and practices were in full swing. So, of course, Andy caught a cold, lost his voice and couldn't sing.

Somehow, Marty missed getting infected and his voice was fine. He was going to stay home anyway, to keep his brother company, but Andy insisted that he didn't.

"You can't, Marty. You have to go, they're depending on you. No-one's going to miss my croaking, but you're the choir's best singer and they need you."

"No, they don't. I'm not going anywhere if you're not."

"You bloody have to! Right then - I'll go anyway. I'll stand up the back and just mime the words."

"You bloody will not! If you're standing there, spreading your germs around, everyone's going to catch colds. Okay then, I'll go, but I won't like it. You can stay home, look after yourself and get rid of your dammed cold."

"Good! I guess that we'd better not do anything for a few days."

"Not do anything? We are too! We'll just pull a condom over your head."

"Shut the fuck up. We are not - get real."

"What are we going to do then?"

"Nothing! Or, maybe we could. There could be, like, just no kissing."

"No kissing?"

"Not on the mouth anyway."

"Yeah. That could work. We'll live dangerously."

So, Marty went off to practice and Andy stayed at home by the fire, wrapped in a blanket and with lemon-drink and a large box of tissues. Justine came in and sat down, carefully well away from him, on the other side of the fire."

"I can sneeze right across the room you know," Andy grinned.

"Well, just don't. Keep your disgusting germs to yourself. Andy-Pandy, what's going on with you guys?"

"What do you mean, what's going on?"

"You've changed, haven't you? Something's up. You haven't had a serious fight for weeks now and you're both forever shut away up there in your room."

"Nothing's up. We're just getting on all right, that's all."

"No, that's not all. You're both different. You're actually acting like you like each other."

"We do like each other. Geez, Justine. Why's it such a big deal? Everyone's always telling us that we've got to get on together, well, now we are."

"Yes, now you are. You never have before, not for more than 5 minutes. And don't call me Justine. My name is 'Tine' now."

"Yeah, it is since you've decided to change it. See? People can change, and you've been changing everything - your hair-colour, the make-up, everything. If you get any more piercings, you'll liable to spring a leak."

"I will not!" she snorted. "I just felt like some changes. I'm not 'Daddy's sweet little girl' anymore. I'm growing up."

"Maybe we're just growing up too."

"Maybe. I think that there's more to it than that though. I'm watching you guys. And don't you cut Junior out either. He's been feeling a bit left out."

"We haven't cut Junior out. He's never home lately anyway. He's always out with Jeremy and his crowd."

"Could be that he feels more welcome there. He's still your brother and don't you forget it."

"Okay, okay! Damm. Are you sure that Lana's your mother? You're getting as bossy as Mum."

"Shut the fuck up, Andy-Pandy."

"We're going to swap some bedrooms around tomorrow."

Claudette sat, in front of the mirror, brushing her long, brown hair. She always, religiously, brushed her hair 100 times every night. It probably didn't make any difference, but her grandmother had raised her to believe that brushing made for a healthy head of hair.

"Oh?" Jonathan rolled over in bed to look at her. "Again? What's wrong with the way they are now?"

"Because it's time we made some changes. Craig can go up to the box room on the top floor, the one with no windows. That'll suit him, he hates any light in the room at night. Carmel can come down to Craig's room. I don't like her being up on the top-floor, she's too little."

"Okay, that makes sense, but why can't Craig and Carmel just swap rooms?"

"No, Bobby is going into Carmel's room."

"He is? But why? There's nothing wrong with the room he's in now."

"There's not, but he's just little. He doesn't need all that space - it's just room for him to spread his mess out."

"What are you going to do with Bobby's room?"

"Either Marty or Andy can move in there. I don't care which one; they can decide."

"But why? We've always kept them together so that they'll learn to get along. It seems to be working at last. Why split them up now?"

"Because it's time that they were separated. Andy's gay you know."

"Do you think so? What makes you think that?"

"He's gay, I know it. A mother knows these things. Andy's gay and I'm pretty sure that Marty is too."

"Both of them? I didn't see that coming."

"You just don't look, Jonathan."

"You're probably right, you usually are. Oh well, if they are, they are. I still don't see why they can't stay together. They can support each other."

"No. It's time they were separated. They're 15; think back to what you and Superboy were doing when you were 15."

"What we were doing!! But, they're brothers. Justin and I slept together when we were 15. Didn't do us any harm."

"Of course it didn't. You weren't gay and Superboy had Billy. Marty and Andy don't have anyone else, I think it's time that they did."

"Maybe they don't want anyone else yet."

"Maybe they don't. Think about it, Jonathan."

"What? Do you think that they are . . Surely not!"

"I'm not saying that they are; I'm just saying maybe. Lana thinks so too. I've discussed it with her."

"Of course you have. You two always talk about everything before you bring me into the picture."

"Of course. We're the mothers; you're just a mere male."

"Okay, Claude, whatever you think is best. Now come over here and I'll show you what a mere male can do."

The riot started at breakfast the next morning. Claudette announced the plan for the day and no-one agreed with her. Craig and Bobby were happy with the rooms they had now, thank you very much! They were not moving.

Oh, but they were!

Carmel liked being up on the top floor, with 'the big kids', and she wanted to stay there.

No, she was not. She was coming down to the room next to her mother.

Marty and Andy both refused point blank. They were not moving.

Oh, but they were.

Oh, but they bloody were not! They were staying where they were.

They were not! Their mother had decided and one of them was moving into Bobby's room. If they couldn't agree on which one, she'd flip a coin. They needn't think that appealing to their father was going to change her mind. It would not.


"Don't try to bring me into this, Marty. Your mum's decided and you're moving. It's nothing to do with me."

"It's not fair! Why can't we stay where we are? We've always shared a room and I like being with Andy."

Yeah, thanks. I like being with you too. If one of us is moving, then we'll both move."

"You will not! Don't be ridiculous. It's time that you had separate rooms."

"We don't bloody want separate bloody rooms. We're not moving!"

"You are moving, or, one of you is. You're not both staying where you are."

"Mum! You can't do this. We need to be together."

"You need to be apart. It's not like you're never going to see each other, it's just separate bed-rooms. One of you is moving."

"All right then!" Andy yelled. "Have it your way. I'm moving and so is Marty. We'll go to the Adelphi. Granddad will give us a room there."

"He will not. This is your home and this is where you're staying - in separate rooms."

"You can go screw yourself. We're not moving!"

"Don't you talk to your mother like that. I'll kick your arse, Boy!" Jonathan growled.

"You'll try, Old Man," Marty replied, icily. "Come on Andy. We're out of here."

They twins stormed out and left the building. The adults sat and looked at each other.

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