by Rafael Henry

Chapter 3

The conversation is sporadic rather than continuous, and then out of the blue, Evert comes out with something in his own language which he never usually does.

'Je peux etre avev tu.'

I roughly knew what that meant, but I asked him to confirm it in English. He did and I was right…….'I want to be with you'…..but he explained further. The 'be' bit isn't quite how it sounds….it's more like 'I want to be part of you'. That isn't right either…….not quite. It's really an expression of empathy with someone….being in sympathy with their ways of thinking…..the sort of bond spiritually that brothers might have. As he tried to explain himself, I felt moved by his words.

'That's a really nice thing to say Evert, thanks.'

'So…how can I?'

'Well, you can share your thoughts with me, and I can share mine with you. We do already I think. Do you think so?'


'And your feelings too…..like you did about Marcel being unkind to you?'

'Yes, that too.'

'So….what else Evert?'

He didn't say anything in response to that question. Instead, he drew back the duvet, swung his legs onto the floor in the gap between our two beds and sat with his hands to his sides resting on the bed.

'What's the matter Ev? Are you ok?'

He didn't move.

I waited a few seconds to take stock….to think quickly, but I have already made my decision. I made it a few days ago so that I would be mentally prepared if it should happen.

I drew back my duvet.

'Do you want to come back in Evert?'

Again he said nothing, just looked at me unsmiling and a nod of his head.

I can't tell you how moved I was by that very short, but meaningful conversation we had between us. It was all so incredibly meant, if you know what I mean…..so genuine in how he expressed his feelings. Sweet boy. I just want to hold him in my arms and love him.

I woke up just before midnight, extremely hot. There isn't really room for two in these beds, so I gently shook Evert's shoulder. He came to, more or less, enough for me to suggest to him that he went back into his own bed. Within a minute he was on his side in the next bed with the covers loosely over his lower half. I looked at the boyish form for a few moments lying there with his back to me, and wondered how he would react in the morning and in the cool light of day. I know it can be difficult sometimes when the realisation hits. It wasn't for me at school because it was just dormitory fun, and what most of the others were doing anyway. For most, it's just something that happens and after a year or so they lose interest and that's that. For most, but not all.

I'm writing this sitting up in bed while Evert sleeps on. He's on his side now, facing me, and more or less completely uncovered.

I've spent the last five minutes looking at him. It's just before seven, and his alarm goes off at seven thirty. It won't be long and I'll know.

I think the faint sound of my tapping the keys woke him. He stirred and a hand reached for the duvet and pulled it up and over his body. I kept looking at him. I knew what I would do….just keep smiling. After a minute or so his eyes opened and he looked at me, just his eyes were visible. I told myself to keep smiling. The top of Evert's duvet lowered so I could see his whole face. Good. I'm sure he's aware that I might be worried, but his face tells me that all is well……almost certainly well. Thank goodness.

Once we had gone up to bed my mother never disturbs us, and she always brings me a cup of tea on weekdays at seven thirty in the morning. This gives Evert ample time to wash and have a bowl of cereal before he catches the number 5B bus which stops close to the school in Lansdowne Place. If he doesn't shower, he uses the basin a couple of metres the other side of his bed. Watching him at the basin reminds me of the Degas drawings I'd seen in a book in the art library at school. Seeing those drawings had got me into pastels, albeit temporarily. I thought of the clay figure I was going to make next term using David as my model. The summer holidays can change everything when it comes to friendships. I've seen a boy 'jump ship' for another often enough, leaving the other bereft.

It happened to David. I'd seen him in the reading room on his own and looking a bit down. I asked him if he was ok and basically he wasn't. That was the start of it for us. Maybe it's all gone now. I won't know until the first evening when we all get back in September. I'll know then soon enough. I've not heard from him.

I haven't stop typing although the last one hundred words don't make a lot of sense and will need rewriting. Under the circumstances it's a little difficult to concentrate. I'm looking sideways at Evert and he's making me smile. He's more or less uncovered and on his side and looking like our time together last night is on his mind…….fresh in his memory shall we say?

'Are you ok Ev? Did you sleep well……tu as bien dorme?'

He gives me one of his lovely smiles and looks down again, then a quiet

'Oui, merci.'


I turn back to my typing, but I can't think of what to say. I have butterflies in my tummy.

If I had worried about any fallout from last night, I need not have.

The weight of his body on mine is not oppressive. He's slightly shorter than me and weighs less judging by his build. He'd asked me a question just a few minutes earlier……

'Puis-je vous embrasser?'

He'd pulled my covers off me gently, and looked, and noticed. Moments later we were tummy to tummy. I had my arms around his back when he asked me the question. He was up on his elbows with his hands either side of my face.

I'm about to find out what being French means I think. There's kissing………..and kissing, if you know what I mean. The act of putting one's lips onto someone's face can mean more than one thing, but I wasn't about to refuse what I take to be an invitation from Evert. It was a playful time for him I suspect…….born out of a growing awareness of his sexuality but not meant to be anything other than experimentation probably, and of course it was fun……just a game…..just being a playful French boy. I let him do what he wanted…….ears, nose, cheeks, and finally our mouths. At that moment I lowered my hands to cover both of his buttocks, my thumbs touching, and my fingertips not so far apart. It was the first time I had taken a risk with Evert, and of course it was a risk. It suggested an intimacy between us that might be entirely unwelcome.

The smooth bare skin of full buttocks. As I move my hands over those that belong to Evert, he reacts to the sensation by the almost imperceptible movement of his hips. This is sex. I can't believe what's happening……I really can't. One thing I know is that we are both loving what we are doing. There's no doubting that. I wonder again as he touches my mouth once more if this is really sex? Evert's hips move again….and then again. Yes, this is sex.

My mother had talked to me briefly about sex. She'd given me two books on the subject. One was a stuffy sort of diatribe for newly married couples and had a Christian bias, and the other had an interesting text and a few rubbish illustrations and was aimed at boys entering puberty, so she had got that bit right. Her watchword seemed to be……..'one thing leads to another'. I remember thinking rather naughtily at the time……'well I hope so!'

This morning it was obvious that Evert wanted to be in control. I had not encouraged him, and that's the truth…..really it is. Yesterday I'd had another card from David…..a nice one, in terms of what he had written on it. No doubt my mother had read it. He's been careful about the wording, thank goodness, and getting that card had reined in somewhat any thoughts of leading Ev down the slippery slope. On the other hand, if he wants to play games with me, then so be it, the curious boy. Curious……yes that's it.

I'm still on my back and he's on his side now. I'm looking at his face, smiling, and then at his body. He looks at mine, and then he looks back at me, unsmiling.


I'd had asked my mother last night to bring tea at seven forty five instead of seven thirty. We had time now before that. I checked the clock on the bedside cabinet between our beds. Five past seven.

Boys who can't are fascinated by boys who can. It's a matter of huge interest. It was for me too. I have allowed older boys to use me, for want of a better word. I read Stephen Fry's book 'Moab is my Washpot' recently and thoroughly enjoyed it. In it, he puts forward his theory that teenaged boys in single sex boarding schools don't have girls to play with so they have to make do with younger boys. It's not a gay thing with them at all….just a little pleasure of the flesh. A pretty, or not so pretty, twelve year old can be a convincing substitute for a girl and if of the necessary persuasion will make a surprisingly good occasional partner for him. In return, the boy gets subtly preferential treatment, kindness hopefully, and is privy to what the older boy can offer. That was me and Gerald in a nutshell. It started for us at the swimming baths, intimate in the changing cubicle, and he took it from there, and I adored what he could offer. We found each other attractive in more than one way…….that is to say, physically and intellectually. Then we were found out, stupidly, and it was over.

I let Evert do what he wants. My body responds as it should and it all works well as far as he is concerned, curious boy. His curiosity is satisfied and so am I. I watch with my hands under my head as it all happens. A very singular pleasure.

The Doc taught me that phrase. I can't remember the context.

Talking of the Doc, I heard from Bryn the other day. He's been up to Norfolk to get filled in about the English courses he'll be teaching……getting the benefit of the Doc's experience. Hmm…….I bet he is. Not so much as filled in, but filled up in all probability. Sorry, that was rude and unkind….and no, I'm not jealous. The Doc is great in many ways, but I don't want anything like that from him. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy showing off for him last summer term on the boat. I did it for him, by way of thanks I suppose for being such an inspirational teacher. I knew he'd enjoy it, so I provided it for him for his general entertainment. He's seen every part of my body, and in all its states of mind, and he's never touched me, and nor would he. He's a very moral character who just enjoys boys in all their forms. Why should I deny him a little harmless pleasure?

I'm looking at my diary. It's August the 18 th …..already! That leaves just under two weeks holiday left. Evert leaves on the 31 st . He's talked about it only because I asked him, but he's not really talking about it. His group will go by coach back to Paris via the Dover Calais ferry, barring more bother with the poor migrants, where his people will collect him. I hardly know him really, but……..here we go again. No, not really. I really don't know him well enough.

I've been invited to a beach party on Saturday. It's given by the language school for all the students and any of the host families that are silly enough to contemplate joining in. It starts, so Evert says, at six and ends at ten, in theory. He said that last year it went on longer, unofficially, mainly under the pier. There is no alcohol allowed. Excellent. I told Ev that I wanted to go. He seemed pleased and told me I could meet his friend Simon.

Oh? That's the first I've heard about him. A part of me felt ever so slightly jealous, and another part felt pleased that he had a friend at the school.

When I spoke to Bryn on the phone, he asked me about Ev.

'So how have you two been getting along then?'

'Fine thanks.'

'Well, that's not much of an answer.'

'Well, how have you two been getting along then?'

I was referring to him and the Doc.

'Fine……yes, it's been very interesting actually. He's been incredibly helpful. I have to take over all his courses, so I need to know exactly what they've done…..all that stuff.'


'And what Jon?'

'You know.'

'Well, as I said, it's been interesting. Ok? Will that do for an answer?'

He's right, it is not my business. He's been up there nearly two weeks now. Bryn said his flat is really nice. It's near the top of Upper King Street. I once had a look at the Catholic cathedral which is on a kind of traffic island a bit further on. King Street is an interesting part of the city.

'Are you back in Brighton before term starts Bryn?'

'Yes, tomorrow. Do you want to meet up?'


'You said that pretty quickly. Are you ok….really? You don't sound it.'

'Yes, I suppose so.'

'Right……Wednesday afternoon. We can walk on the Downs. How does that sound?'

'Ok, but Evert doesn't have school on Wednesday afternoons.'

'So he can come too can't he? Text me later ok?'

'No….that's fine Bryn.'

I wasn't massively keen on that idea, but thinking about it, I changed my mind which was just as well as I had already agreed to Bryn's plan. I wanted to finish up a sketchbook before term started. I could do some drawing up there, and I wanted to get something of Evert. I thought of those Vuillard drawings of groups of friends and family in the garden. No, it would be good. Bryn said he'd bring his camera too.

Mother is always punctual with the morning tea………seven forty five on the dot usually……..sometimes a little later, but never earlier. Evert is, unlike me, a sound sleeper. I invariably have to wake him in the mornings, just after seven. He wakes up nicely…..no grumpy face or anything like that. He's quality, as the kids say. We both sleep in tee shirts, or nothing if it's really warm, and certainly no pyjama bottoms or pants. It has been quite hot of late. I wake him by gently moving his shoulder. He will always turn and face me, if he isn't already. I do this by reaching across the gap between us. I always say……

'Morning Evert.'

In reply, he gives me one of his special smiles. He's so sweet.

If there is to be 'playtime' he will tell me in his own way, usually by drawing his duvet down to expose his tummy, or by pushing his hand out towards me. Most mornings we have 'playtime', and if he has signalled his desire, I go in with him. It's a simple as that. I love to feel him, just as I do David, and Gerald before him, in my arms. It's not about sex……it's just being with someone . We can stay like that for ages. I love his smell…….the feel of his skin against mine…….the touch of his fingers on my hands and face…….the colour of his eyes and the feel of his lips……ears…….hair…..everything……even his feet. I like his feet and my examination of them makes Evert laugh. Evert, I have decided, is indeed very beautiful and well worthy of examination! He'll be a memory soon and I want no regrets. All the shyness has gone now…no hiding anything about ourselves, and I'm as certain as I can be that Evert has found our short friendship liberating.

I know it's clichéd and rather obvious, but I love his penis. Firstly, it bigger than mine, which is fine. Secondly, it has a really sexy glans…..quite broad, and the foreskin doesn't cover it all so it sort of peeks out asking to be……well, asking for something. I just find it very interesting. That's all.

'Why do you do that Jon?'

'Because I want to see and understand. It's like any interesting thing……..you need to really look at it to appreciate it don't you?'


'Yes, that too. Do you mind? Say if you do.'

'Non. No, I don't mind. It's funny.'

He would soon let me know what he had in mind, but I wasn't to be hurried in my travels around his body which gave him so much amusement. In the mornings, it's all about Evert. He leads me and I follow. I tease him with words he doesn't know……

'Patience, Evert…….just wait a minute…ok?'

I tease him by making him wait. Twenty minutes before morning tea, but boys when ready can't wait too long…….and I know it would be a mistake to make Evert wait too long. I know I wouldn't like it. Afterwards, we lie quietly, separate now, and we talk about the day ahead, our hands crossing the divide, to retain the memory of what's just happened I suppose.

Evert has more or less taken over my wardrobe. Of course I don't mind. I've been wearing his stuff often enough.

'Are you going to take those home with you Ev?'

'Can I?'

'Yes, if you want. Do you like them?'


'Good. Just leave me these, ok?'

That little deal pleases me no end. I'll help him with his packing to make sure all is in order. Things can easily get mixed up. I know it's a bit weird, but it's important to me, like I'm not completely losing him.

'Do you know what blood brothers are, Ev?'

He did, after I had explained the term. As everyone knows, it's about mixing your blood with another person's as a symbol of a bond between friends….and not really a good idea these days. To a degree, I suppose kissing someone, especially deeply, is the same because it exchanges body fluid. Our night 'playtime' happens around nine thirty or so, or later sometimes, depending on when I have finished typing up my account of events. I find it particularly pleasurable just before sleep. Evert has a habit of distracting me however, endlessly curious. To put it crudely, he's getting more adept and I'm getting more responsive to his adeptness. He noticed, applying pressure on me as part of his distraction strategy, I was losing a tiny amount of body fluid.

'What is that Jon?'

I explained what it was and what it was for. He insisted on examining a drop which he put between finger and thumb, sliding it about, just to prove my point.

'See……it works doesn't it?'

The next thing he did rather surprised me. Then he looked up at me…….

'Is it the same as…..?'

'Well, sort of…..well, yes, pretty much.'

At your peril do you keep a boy waiting when he's ready. I know I get very grumpy when I'm really up for it, and it's not forthcoming immediately.

In the half dozen times we've done the night play thing, my sperm has landed unimpeded on my tummy. Not this time, but not in the perfect way it has to be said. I remember David that first time when we stayed together at Uncle's place. David was always more aware, and David being David, always desperate to please. Evert has not had the same exposure as we have to the noble savage from an early age.

The trip to the Downs went well. Bryn was on good form being jolly and encouraging as ever. He still has his old VW Polo. We parked in a layby opposite Waterhall golf club which is a fair way short of the Downs Hotel. Most people go all the way up which gives them a good view of Chanctonbury Ring and beyond, or down to the village of Fulking. Where we stopped was ideal as we were completely on our own, having walked a hundred metres or so away from the road…..ironically not far from the spot where I had been discovered by the man in the car four years earlier. I had dressed alternatively for Bryn's benefit. Evert seemed to be rather taken with my outfit that I had selected.

'Can I wear those please Jon?'

'Nope, but I've got another pair. They're more or less the same. Here, try these.'

I handed him my spare pair of white shorts. When he'd got into them, I made him stand still, and turn around a couple of times. Hmm…..a bit borderline, but we aren't going public so it won't matter I suppose. It certainly won't upset Bryn, and definitely not me. He looks great especially with his bare upper half. He looks like one of those child models they photograph on the beach. He has a tasteful tan now…not too dark, but enough to make him look doubly gorgeous. The shorts were very fitted around his bottom. What he had borrowed from me, probably on a permanent basis, was very visible through the relatively thin material.

'Well, I wouldn't let you wander Brighton seafront looking like that Ev, that's for sure. Can I have this top?'

I'd picked what I always referred to as his 'Jackson Pollock' tee shirt. I've seen girls in leggings in that pattern. Very nice.

All ready, and me armed with my small 'moleskin' sketchbook and pen, we stood by the window and waited for Bryn to appear. Not really thinking, I put an arm around Ev's shoulder. He responded immediately by putting his around mine. I felt a massive warmth surge through me. He's such a sweet boy. I'm going to miss him……I know I am.

As soon as Bryn saw us when I opened the door, he had to comment.

'Goodness, you two look nice. How are you Evert? Are you ready to hit the hills?'

I don't think he quite got the question, so when in doubt, just smile eh?

I sat in the back of Bryn's car with Ev in the front. I could see the back of his head, a right arm folded on his lap, and a long brown leg, bare save a bit of white at the very top. I noticed Bryn glancing sideways from time to time. Every time he did, I poked him gently in the back to let him know that I had noticed.

'What's your problem Jon?'

'Nothing.' I replied with a concealed smile.

The forecast for the beach party wasn't good, but today it's sunny and warm, and perhaps one of the last chances to feel the sun on our bodies. We had found a patch of smooth grass well away from the road and down the hill, surrounded by areas of tall dry grasses with random blackberry bushes which provided convenient shelter from the cool breeze. I was in front of the other two and stopped and turned.


Bryn answered……….Evert had already taken off his tee shirt…….something else of mine he had taken a fancy to.

'Yep….looks good.'

We had a great view looking northwards across the valley…….white clouds rising up from behind the distant hills. Evert sat down with his hands folded around his knees sitting on my tee shirt. I plonked myself down sitting on his . Bryn was holding his camera, the strap hanging loose.

'May I?' Bryn asked

I looked at Evert.

'Is that ok Ev? Do you mind if Bryn takes some photos of us?'

'No, but can I have one please….of us….to take home?'

'Of course.' Bryn replied.

I think I must have a slight tendency to exhibitionism, and I know how I got it….living with that lot in Norfolk. Communal living encourages it, communal everything. You just have to stop worrying, or even thinking about what people can see of you. There are no doors on the lavatories or showers. There are no screens between beds. If you feel the need to relieve stress in bed at night or in the morning, others can see and hear you. Undressing, possibly fully erect, at your bedside prior to the walk across the floor to collect your dressing gown for showers, is something you just do without a thought of who's looking. No one notices anyway. Then the walk downstairs to the showers, holding your dressing gown together at the front because it's uncomfortable if you don't apply pressure, which in turn stimulates you even more so it's still there, bouncing up and down as you hang up your dressing gown and walk the few yards to that steamy room, right past the showers prefect. You look at him as you pass, and he looks at you…..mental note made perhaps……by both of us. He's looked at me before. You know the 'look'. It lingers on you just that little bit longer than you would expect…face first and then lower down, and always there …..just for a moment or two.

The thing is that I like all that, and I find it liberating……you know……the 'no hang ups' thing? So I asked an older boy, who I was sure had taken a fancy to me, in one of the swimming pool changing cubicles we had to share at busy times if I he would let me feel him. He said 'ok' and when I did, he got rather excited about it. Minutes later he'd covered my hand with his sperm. So what? No harm done. He'd enjoyed it and so had I, so we agreed to do it again…..lots of times. We liked to talk about art and books after we had done it….after he'd put his mouth over my penis and his finger had tickled my insides….and I'm not disgusted at the taste of his semen. No, not at all…..just as David is not disgusted by mine. I would gladly taste his if he had any.

I had a question for Evert.

'Bryn wants to go for a walk for a bit Ev. Do you want to go with him? I'm going to stay here……get some sun on my body. It might be my last chance.'

'Can I stay with you please?'

'Yes of course. No one will be able to see us so I'm going to take my stuff off, but keep yours on ok?'

I stood up and took off my shirt and laid it on the patch of smooth grass. With shorts and pants folded neatly, I lay down on my back, and looked through the pages of my pocket sketchbook. I had taken Gerald's advice at last…….take it everywhere, and use it.

I deliberately didn't look to see what Evert was doing. When he laid his shirt down next to me, he was naked, but lying on his tummy.

I saw Bryn walking up the hill just below me. I could see him between my feet. He stopped some ten metres away, pointing his camera at us. Evert was still on his tummy. Bryn must have taken a few. He stayed where he was. I nudged Evert gently….

'Are you ok Ev…..not too hot?'

'I'm ok thanks.'

He turned over onto his back with his knees bent upwards, and his hands together over his lower tummy. He hadn't seen Bryn.

'What's the matter Ev? Why are you looking at me like that?'

As if I didn't know.

'Will Bryn be gone for a long time do you think?'

'He likes walking……probably quite a while. Why?'

As if I didn't know.

I felt Evert's hand lightly brushing the top of my thigh.

I didn't look to see if Bryn was still there. If he was, I know he would act responsibly with whatever he had seen, if anything. Ev was fairly obviously wanting my attention which, naturally, I gave him, and why not?

Afterwards, I lay on my side and distracted myself by drawing the windmill I could just see in the distance. It was painted white and stood out nicely against the mauve sky on the horizon. Ev was on his tummy supporting himself on one elbow, watching me work.

A few minutes later and relaxed now, Evert had fallen asleep on his side, curled up, hands under his head. I covered him with my shirt. I put my sketchbook down and lay back looking up at the white clouds moving overhead. It's my turn now.

Evert is lying with his back to me. I can see a part of him I have not touched and I am focused on it now. I turn slightly towards him as it happens for me, and I marvel at the curved forms of my friend's body.

Thursday morning, four days before Evert leaves for Paris.

He's off on a trip today……something in London. He's up early and I walk with him down to Lansdowne Road which takes us twenty minutes or so. I felt like a decent walk, so he goes in to the school and I continue on down to Hove seafront. There's been rain overnight but it pleasant enough now……no wind but very grey, but I quite like it like this. The sea is a strange colour. I get a text message from Bryn.

Hi. You about today? B

I reply…….

Yes. When. Where?

Yours at ten?

As I walk home, I'm wondering what he did with that camera of his. My mother has been at work an hour now, and as I walk the last hundred metres of the Avenue, I can see Bryn's Polo parked on the road outside the house. He must have seen me in his mirror because five yards short of his car, he gets out. He's in sandals, shorts and polo shirt. He likes Gap clothes….classic American things mainly. His arms and legs are lightly tanned. For a second or two I think he might want me, and I get butterflies in my tummy at the prospect, but then something very logical in my head tells me he won't. Actually I like to think 'can't' rather than 'won't'.

'So this is where it all happens then?'

We're up in the bedroom which is where I keep my laptop.

'What do you mean…….all happens?'


He's brought the memory card from his camera. I lie on my bed with the machine on my lap and open up the photo programme and click on File, then Open, then DCM, and then Browse.

Nothing was said by either of us for at least five minutes I would think. I'm absolutely spell bound by what I'm seeing. The images are stunning.

'Absolutely fantastic….they're absolutely bloody beautiful Bryn. How long were you there?'

'All the time. Didn't you notice?'

'I didn't want to notice, but I thought you might be.'

'What about Evert then? Do you think he was aware of me?'

'No. Definitely not. As far as we were concerned, you'd gone for a long walk. I told him you'd be ages. That why he was so relaxed.'

'Is that what you call it?'

'Piss off. I like this one best.'

'Umm……it's nice isn't it.'

It was of the two of us standing together. Evert was looking slightly sideways out into the landscape, and I was looking down slightly. It was the way we both standing. It worked perfectly.

'You know who would like that one don't you?' I said

'Yes I do. Can I?'

'Umm, why not. Will you keep these?'

'No……absolutely not. When you've finished looking at them, I'll delete them on the memory card. You do it so you're sure ok……except that one and this one of you two when we first arrived.'

There was something else too. Five minutes of video. It all went….got deleted. I made sure it had, but I know I could have relied on Bryn to do it.

It was beautiful up there on the Downs, and of course it will remain in my visual memory……and possibly Bryn's too, but nowhere else.

Bryn is really great company. He keeps me informed about how Elly and Jem are doing because I hardly ever see either of them. I'm perfectly happy with my own company as a rule, which after the hurly burly of boarding school life, it's actually quite nice not having much to do when I'm home. My default activity is walking…either on the Downs, or along the seafront. Sometimes, if he's about, Bryn will come with me, and we discuss all sorts of matters that concern us. He is an emotional support to me particularly with regard to my mother. I can't deny that it is sometimes quite difficult with her, but he always makes me see that there is a path for me that I must follow. I love him for the care he gives me and the kindness he shows me, and I would love him in other ways too if he'd let me. He's obviously worried about finding me attractive which I know he does, and how those feelings must not surface into anything physical. At some point I'm going to be sitting in his English class for heaven's sake, but not yet awhile.

Yesterday, he received his timetable for the next academic year. He's not teaching my form…….sadly. He watched as I deleted almost all of the images of myself and Evert that he'd taken yesterday. Some things just have to go regrettably, as a matter of respect. I didn't delete the one of Ev and I standing nude, or the nice one of just Evert on his own smiling back at the camera, and a similar one of Ev and me in our shorts among the tall grass.

'I'll get those two printed for Evert. If I upload them now, they'll be back by Friday.'

'What about those two Bryn?'

'Hmm. Can you trust me with those….for a while?'

'Yes, fine. Is there some way you could keep them?'

He said there was. There was nothing sexual about them.

'So have you enjoyed Evert's company then Jon?'

I'm not going to lie, and I was aware of Bryn's slight emphasis on the word 'enjoyed'. I know he wants to know, so I told him.

He lay on Evert's bed while I talked about our evenings…what Evert and I talked about before and after as it were. I made it as interesting as I could for him which, by the time I had finished, I could see he had appreciated.

'So it's the party on Saturday then? The forecast is crap………did you know?'

'Yes, but it'll still be on. If it pisses down, we can all go under the pier I suppose.'

'The rain still comes through eventually. I've tried it.'

'Have you now? When was that then?'

'Never mind when, nosey.'

I'm fairly sure Bryn's gay, but he's never come out and said so, in so many words. There are obviously tons of gay teachers, very few of whom are attracted to any of their pupils, just as the vast majority of straight teachers are not. I personally don't mind if they take a fancy to me. I would be flattered, depending somewhat on who it was. I would do anything with Bryn if he wanted it, and I mean anything. Sex for me goes with friendship and building a proper relationship with a person, like I did with Jem, Gerald and now David…..even Evert. I also want sex to be part of it….I like it and I want it. I could have had it enough times on my walks on Brighton and Hove seafront, but it would mean going back to some bloke's flat to do whatever. No, that's not for me. Not yet anyway. One day I might want to….you know….go looking for it?

'So, are you back to school on the Sunday then?'

'Yes…the sixth.'

'And Evert leaves next Monday doesn't he?'

'Yes…the twenty fourth…..at nine in the morning. They go by coach to Dover. He's just got one case so I'll help him with it on the bus.'

'You'll probably need the Sunday to recover from the party.'

'Maybe. It'll be a good day for him to take stock. We'll walk somewhere….Downs probably, or round and round the park. I want him to go home with it all straight in his head…everything in perspective. He's done one or two things he hasn't done before so…..'

'Right. Give him a bit of space. Have a quiet day.'


'I'm back in Norfolk on the Tuesday after the Bank Holiday, so I've got another week here before that. I've got loads more to sort out. I suppose you have to be back on the following Sunday? We have two training days the week before. The Doc's letting me stay on at his until I've got a flat sorted out.'

'That's nice of him…..and yes, it's always a Sunday…..and usually raining just to depress us a bit more than we were already.'

'Umm, I can imagine.'

Oh yes. The Sunday evening before term starts on the dreaded Monday morning. You can imagine the black cloud hanging over the place. Still, we'll have the usual holiday escapades to talk about to relieve the gloom, or at least some of us will have. In a way, I quite look forward to it, once I'm in the right mindset, and I've accepted the situation. Another term of hard academic grind…..loads of essays and getting 'learnt' as they say up here.

Bryn stayed about another hour……an interesting one too. We had a good chat about this and that while I looked through more of his photographs……ones that didn't require deletion! I think he has a good eye. Then I came back to the ones of me and Evert.

'Those are bloody amazing images Bryn……..they really are. Do you want to do some more…….just for fun…….like now? Something to amuse the Doc maybe?'

That was naughty.

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead