The Marshalls
by Kit
Chapter 13
For a couple of days after Mike had gone to the bathroom pretending that he needed to puke, he and John continued their usual school day routine. Their interactions were polite but not very friendly. The redhead could tell that John's attitude toward him had cooled, and he realised that it probably related to the way that he'd ended their discussion. However, he thought that the older boy was overreacting.
Mike had shared some of his most private thoughts, had become embarrassed, and had made a joke as an excuse to leave the room. He couldn't understand why that should have made John become so distant. The redhead felt that he had nothing to apologise for and that the problem was that John was oversensitive, so it was up to the older boy to make the first move to fix things. This was still Mike's attitude when Connor phoned him one evening.
"You're earlier than usual," Mike commented. "Have you finished your homework already?"
"Yeah. There wasn't much, and it was easy. Have you finished yours?"
"Ages ago."
"Paul said that Saturday looks like it'll be a good day for a run, and he said you should remember to bring your kit."
"You know I always bring my kit, just in case," Mike said.
"Obviously," Connor replied, rolling his eyes. "But you know what Paul's like."
"So what will you be doing while we're out running? Will you be watching footie?"
"No. I'll be going for a bike ride with Stephane and Liam and Oliver."
"Don't you see enough of that kid at school and when you do homework?"
"He's my friend," Connor replied, and then in a teasing tone, he added, "Are you jealous?"
"Of course not!" Mike protested, not completely truthfully.
"You've no need to be," the younger boy soothed, concerned that he might have hurt Mike's feelings. "It won't affect you and me. We're not just friends; we're foster brothers."
"Yeah."
Mike felt a glow of happiness, though of course he could never allow anyone to suspect how he felt. Apart from Katie, Connor was the only other person who'd ever seemed pleased to regard the redhead as their foster brother.
"How're you getting on with John now?" Connor asked. "Are you trying to be nice to him?"
"It's easier to be nice with him than it was with you."
"Ouch!"
"No, I didn't mean it like that! It's just that being nice with you was like, erm, practising. So it feels easier with John because I've done it with you."
"Anyway," Connor said after pausing to consider Mike's words, "Paul said you can ask John if he wants to join you for the run on Saturday."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Because he goes running with you at school, and he and Will are coming here for tea on Saturday anyway."
Given the recent relatively cool relations with John, Mike took a few seconds to think about that.
"What about showers?" he asked eventually, thinking that it might be an excuse for not inviting John. "With running and cycling, we may all want showers. That means you, me, Liam, Oliver, and John all queueing up to use your bathroom."
"We're meeting Oliver near his aunt's flat, and he'll go straight back there after the ride. So he can shower there and come here after he's changed clothes. Paul can drop John off at Will's flat after your run. So it'll just be me, you, and Liam here."
"Okay, then. I'll ask John."
After the call ended, Mike went to find John, who was in his room reading a textbook and making notes.
"Hey," Mike said. "Still doing homework?"
"Hey," John replied, his tone showing a hint of suspicion. "Just studying. We're having a mock exam just before the Christmas break."
"That sucks," the redhead replied with minimal sympathy. After a brief silence, during which John began to feel impatient, he added, "You know I'm doing most of the same subjects that you did last year, but you've never offered to help with my homework."
"I didn't think you'd want me to. Would you have accepted?"
"No. At least not before the truth game."
"There you are, then," John said, relishing a small victory. "If you ever want help, you just have to ask. Anyway, I can't believe you came just to chat about homework."
"Connor says that Paul wants to know if you want to go running with us on Saturday."
John frowned as he considered what appeared to be a third-hand invitation and wondered why it had been transmitted via Mike.
"It's up to you," Mike said, giving the impression that he didn't care. Then he contradicted that impression by adding, "You know that running with Paul's fun. You can pick up some good techniques. It's probably better than just copying me."
"Yeah. I'll join you."
"You'd better let Paul know, then."
Mike turned away and was about to leave the room, but John wanted to use this opportunity to try to sort things out. He screwed up his courage.
"Wait," he said. "Can we talk?"
"What about?" Mike asked, though he was fairly sure that he knew the answer.
"Why are you being so weird?"
"You're the one who's been weird for the past couple of days."
"But you're weird most of the time," John said in a semi-joking tone. "It wasn't nice, the way you said you wanted to puke and then just left."
"It was a joke. Can't you take a joke?"
"I thought we were getting on okay and becoming friends. But you suddenly just blew me off with a stupid joke."
"Didn't you listen to what I said about reflexes?" Mike asked, clearly frustrated. He sighed, and with a slight smile, he added, "And if I'd really blown you off, I'm sure you wouldn't be complaining now."
John's blush was obvious even under his golden skin. Mike smirked and turned to leave, but then he stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"You can come to my room after bedtime tonight," he said, and immediately left the room.
John tried to return to his studies but was unable to concentrate.
At bedtime, John went through his usual bathroom routine and changed into his sleeping clothes. He sat on his bed until the hallway lights were dimmed and the house went quiet, then he waited a few minutes before going to Mike's room. Going in without knocking still felt somehow wrong, but he had been invited, and he didn't want to risk making any noise.
The only illumination in the room was from the desk lamp, but there was sufficient light for John to see clearly. Mike, who was also wearing his sleeping clothes, had been sitting on the bed but immediately stood up. He gave John a small enigmatic smile before he spoke in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.
"Do you trust me?"
John nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure that he did.
"Then just do what I tell you." In response to another nod from John, he continued, "Just lie on your back on the bed."
When John had followed the instructions, Mike stood close to the bed and looked down on him. This was a new and exciting experience for the redhead, and he wanted to savour it. Never before had he been the one taking charge in a sexual encounter. Although Mike had been a teacher for Connor and had demonstrated some basics, there had been no control involved. However, here was an older boy willingly doing what he was told.
Mike sat down on the bed and began running his hands all over John's body, from shoulders to thighs. John, who was holding his arms stiffly at his sides, shivered.
"Are you cold?"
"No," the older boy replied, his voice a whispered croak.
"Are you scared?"
"No. Just nervous. Excited."
"I can see that," Mike said, grinning as he stared at the bulge in John's shorts.
The redhead started to gently massage the bulge, causing John to moan.
"Shush. Remember, we can't make much noise."
Mike gently pulled down the shorts, revealing his prize. After admiring it for a few seconds, he pushed up John's T-shirt until it was bunched up at the top of his chest. Then he resumed stroking, his hands wandering all over the older boy's body, but always returning to the penis. Eventually, he gripped it gently and started moving his hand slowly up and down. John wriggled. Mike leaned over until his lips almost touched the other boy's ear.
"Try to stay still," he whispered. "You'll enjoy it more if you relax."
John, who wasn't sure it was possible to enjoy it any more than he already was, tried to relax but couldn't prevent himself from clenching his fists. Mike continued his work, occasionally using his other hand to play with John's scrotum. Then, when he felt that an orgasm was close, he pinched John's nipple firmly while continuing to stroke his penis.
"Ouch!"
"Quiet!" Mike hissed.
"What did you do that for?"
"An experiment. Sorry if it hurt. For some boys, that stops them from cumming. For others, like me, it makes cumming more intense."
He returned to his work on John's penis and scrotum, and in less than a minute, he felt the first pulse of orgasm. He knew that under such conditions, the ejaculation could be very strong and might squirt all over his bed, so he put his left hand in a position to catch any semen while continuing his slow stroking.
When the orgasmic pleasure began to surge through John's body, he made little squeaks as he tried to suppress his moans. Mike, feeling the strength of the jets on his palm, was glad that he'd put his hand there. As the orgasm subsided, he slowed and then stopped the stroking. Watching the semen pool on John's abdomen, he waited for a minute or so after John's body had relaxed completely. Then he reached out to grab some tissues from the box next to the bed.
"Did you enjoy that?" he asked in a smug tone as he wiped up the mess.
"No, it was horrible," John replied hoarsely. When Mike looked up sharply, he grinned and said, "Just joking. It was the best ever."
"Right," Mike said, standing up after the cleanup was complete. "Your turn now. What do you want me to do?"
John, still feeling a little wobbly, got up off the bed and stood looking directly into the other boy's eyes. "I want us both to be completely naked."
Without saying anything, Mike began to remove his clothes, tossing them onto the desk, and John did the same. They stood in silence, each studying the other's body in detail. John noted how Mike's pale skin seemed to glow and how the muscles could be clearly seen on the slim frame.
"You're beautiful," he whispered without intending to say it aloud.
"Don't be stupid," Mike replied, blushing. Though his words may have seemed harsh, his tone was soft. "What now?"
John closed the small distance between them, put his arms around Mike, and pulled him into a hug. He bent his head and nuzzled the base of the other boy's neck. Mike stiffened, then relaxed.
"That's all you want to do?" he asked, expressing an amused disbelief.
"It's what I've wanted to do most, even before I came to live here. But it's only the first thing. Erm, can I do anything I want with you now?"
"Almost. But no kissing on the mouth and no touching my bumhole."
"Okay," John agreed. "Any particular reasons?"
"Kissing's for boyfriends, and bums are, erm, special."
John wasn't in the mood to think about that, so he simply said, "Now, go and lie on the bed."
When Mike complied, John copied what the redhead had done to him, including tweaking the nipple. However, he wasn't quite so successful at catching the semen, and one squirt landed on Mike's pillow.
"Not bad for a beginner," the redhead teased after he'd recovered.
"I'd definitely like to practise more so I can get better."
Mike lifted his head off the bed and looked at John's groin.
"Seems like you're ready for more," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Lie on the bed."
John, whose erection had subsided only briefly after his orgasm, eagerly complied. Mike began as he'd done before, but this time he just stroked the older boy's nipples instead of pinching them. Diverging from the previous actions, he began licking and butterfly-kissing his way from nipples to thighs. He moved his lips and tongue from thighs to scrotum to penis, and then John had his first experience of oral sex. It didn't last long.
"I'm going to cum!" John hissed urgently, barely suppressing the urge to yell. When Mike didn't stop or even slow what he was doing, John started to repeat the warning. "Really, it's…"
Before he could complete what he was saying, his orgasm began, and Mike swallowed it all. Then he looked up at the older boy and grinned.
"Saves on tissues," he said.
While John was basking in the afterglow, he thought about what had happened and wondered if this was really just a dream. It occurred to him that in total, Mike had given him three orgasms, whereas he'd given the redhead only one. His lack of experience in such matters made him wonder if a tally was kept in such situations and if Mike might feel he was being treated unfairly.
"I suppose it's my turn now," John said, "but I don't think I'll be very good at it. Well, not as good as you, anyway."
"It's your turn to decide what you want to do, so you don't have to do that." Mike glanced at the bedside alarm clock. "It's getting late, so maybe you want to do anything else tonight."
"I won't be able to go to sleep if I don't suck you first," John said quickly, realising that he'd already decided. "I'd just be thinking about it all night."
They swapped places, and as before, he did his best to copy what Mike had done to him. Although John knew that he was lacking in skill, the redhead seemed to appreciate his efforts and quickly reached orgasm. Although getting semen in his mouth wasn't particularly unpleasant, John couldn't bring himself to swallow it and spat it into a couple of tissues.
"That's okay," an amused Mike commented. "You're not the only one who thinks it's nasty. Once I've cum, I don't care what happens to it."
John felt a strong urge to lie down next to the other boy and have a cuddle. However, he resisted that urge, believing that Mike would have rejected any such show of affection. Even if he had decided to act on his feelings, he didn't get the opportunity because the redhead quickly got off the bed.
"I think we both need to brush our teeth again," Mike said as he started to put on his shorts. Then he picked up John's sleeping clothes and threw them at him. "You should at least put some shorts on."
While John got dressed, Mike gathered up the soggy tissues and put them into his wastebasket.
"You can open the window, and I'll flush these down the loo before the room gets too stinky," he said.
The blast of cold air that hit John when he opened the window confirmed to him that this was real and not just a particularly vivid dream. Mike was away longer than John had expected, and the older boy was feeling uncomfortably cold by the time the redhead returned.
"You're still here," Mike observed in apparent surprise.
"I need to brush my teeth, but you were in the bathroom. You took a long time."
"I had a quick rinse in the shower," the redhead said as he put down the wastebasket.
Mike sprayed some air freshener around the room, and then he handed the can to John and said, "You can take this back to the bathroom."
As the redhead went to tidy his bed, John said goodnight and left the room.
"As I'll be picking Mike up on Friday, I can bring John as well," Paul said when he phoned Will to make arrangements for John to go running at the weekend. "There's no point in both of us driving to Meedford."
"That would be great. By the time I finish work and drive through the rush hour traffic, it's unlikely that I could pick John up much before six."
"Then you can pick him up from my house," Paul suggested. "And you can both have a meal with us before you take him home."
Will gladly accepted the invitation and said that he'd call his brother to let him know about the new plans.
On the Friday afternoon, Paul collected Liam and then Connor from their schools, and then he drove directly to the foster home. When the three brothers went inside, Sarah made a complimentary comment about how smart Connor looked in his uniform. John and Mike picked up their bags, which were already in the hallway, and the two boys led the way out to the car.
Without any discussion, Liam, Connor, and Mike immediately took their usual places on the back seat, leaving John to ride shotgun. The three boys at the back began chattering excitedly about their plans for the weekend, but John didn't feel excluded. Instead, he relaxed and enjoyed listening to the conversation. As he did so, he noticed that the way Mike was talking made him seem younger than he actually was.
A few months earlier, John would probably have felt disdainful about Mike's behaviour with the younger boys. However, now he knew the redhead better and had obtained an idea about his background. He also remembered what David had said about the difference between 'childish' and 'childlike'. He was happy to observe that his friend was able to relax and let down his barriers a little.
Shortly after Stephane came home, Will arrived, and they all sat down to eat. During the meal, they discussed what they'd been doing during the week and their plans for the weekend. Although they all shared in the conversation, there were two main groupings. The adults mainly talked about more serious subjects, and the boys mainly concentrated on more fun topics. John found himself involved in both.
During the drive back to his flat, Will noticed that his brother seemed a little subdued.
"Mike seemed relatively friendly with everyone this evening, and you seem to be getting on with him," he said. "But you seem a bit glum now. Is everything okay?"
"I'm not glum," John replied, turning to smile at his brother. "I'm just thinking about stuff."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not just now. Maybe sometime," the boy replied evasively.
"Okay. That's fine."
"And yes, I'm getting on better with Mike now," John said after a brief pause. "At least I think so. Sometimes he's much nicer than usual. He's complicated."
"Everyone's complicated once you see beneath the surface."
Coincidentally, at about the same time that the Marshall brothers arrived at Will's flat, Connor and Mike were having a similar conversation while they were setting up a gaming console in the parlour.
"You seem to be in a good mood," Connor teased. "You were even nice to John."
"I guess he's not so bad, really," Mike replied begrudgingly. After a pause, he added, "Last night, he helped me with my homework."
Connor knew the redhead well enough to realise that any teasing or joking about such an admission would be a very bad idea.
"Are you still playing the truth game with him?"
"Yeah, but we don't have the strict rules now."
From his own experience playing the game, Connor understood that the loosening of the rules indicated a growing trust. He was both pleased and a little surprised that things had progressed so quickly.
"That's good," he said, careful to maintain a neutral tone. Then he paused before adding, "You know that Oliver's coming round tomorrow. He's a bit shy, but he's really nice when you get to know him. I'd really like it if you'd be friends with him."
"Has he tried the bidet yet?" Mike asked, diverting the topic.
"No, he hasn't been upstairs yet."
"I think you should let him see it."
After consulting the weather forecasts, Paul had concluded that Saturday morning would be best for running and cycling, and arrangements had been made accordingly. It was cloudy and chilly, but it was dry, and there was no wind. However, Liam, who had taken a walk in the garden after breakfast, was not enthusiastic.
"It's cold outside," he complained, "and I don't really feel like going out on my bike."
"I'll stay here with you," Stephane volunteered. Before the little boy could complain about not needing a babysitter, he added, "We can download some guitar lessons and practise together."
"I can still go with Oliver, can't I?" Connor asked, frowning.
"Yes. Just take warm clothes, stay away from main roads, and make sure you're back before lunchtime," Paul replied.
"I don't care about the cold," Mike said.
"Well, I still think it's best to avoid the open moors," Paul said, thinking about how exposed his favourite route was. "We should go somewhere more sheltered, like Lytton Dell."
Just a couple of minutes after Paul and Mike left, Connor set off on his bike to meet up with Oliver. However, the two cyclists had been out for less than an hour when Oliver decided that he was feeling too cold to continue and that he needed to pee. They returned to Paul's house, where Stephane and Liam were in the parlour practising on the guitar.
Connor, who was going to his room to change his clothes, invited his friend to use the upstairs bathroom. As Connor had expected, when Oliver emerged from the bathroom, he asked about the unusual toilet. When Connor explained how the bidet worked and suggested that Oliver try it sometime, Oliver blushed deeply and changed the topic completely.
"I'm thirsty," he said. "Can we have a drink before lunch?"
About an hour later, Paul and Mike arrived home, having dropped John off at Will's flat.
"How was the run? Weren't you bothered by the cold?" Stephane asked.
"It was great once we got started and got warmed up," Mike replied.
"Mike's technique has improved a lot recently," Paul added, proud of his protégé. "I think that running with John has helped him to get more practice."
"And John's not as bad as he was at first," Mike said.
Had anyone else said that, Connor would have interpreted it as a criticism, but he knew the redhead well enough to realise that it was intended as a compliment. It was a pleasant surprise.
"Anyway," Paul said, "there's just time for a quick shower before lunch."
"Are John and Will coming?" Liam asked.
"Not for lunch, but they'll be here for dinner tonight," Paul replied. Looking at Oliver, he asked, "Would it be okay with your aunt if you stayed to eat with us tonight?"
"Erm, I'll have to check," Oliver replied hesitantly. "I don't think she'll mind if I'm not there to eat, but she won't like me riding my bike in the dark."
"If you want, and if she agrees, you can ride your bike home, and then I'll come and pick you up to bring you back here," Paul offered.
Oliver spent most of the rest of the day with Connor, Mike and Liam, and they were later joined by John and Will. Connor, feeling protective of Oliver, monitored how everyone interacted with his new friend. He was very pleased to find that Oliver was beginning to overcome his shyness and was integrating well with the group. Mike didn't interact much with Oliver, but when he did, it wasn't unfriendly. There was no hint of antagonism and not even any sarcastic comments.
In the evening, after Will and John had gone home, Paul drove Oliver to his aunt's flat. Mike and Connor went with them, but Liam stayed home with Stephane. When Paul returned home, he announced that he was going to have a mug of tea and asked if anyone else wanted anything. Stephane said he'd have tea, Mike asked for hot chocolate, and Connor didn't want anything.
"No, thanks. I'm going to bed now," Liam said, surprising them all.
"It's not even quarter past nine," Connor pointed out. "And it's a weekend."
"But I'm tired," the little boy said, wearily and with a hint of sadness.
"Are you feeling okay?" Paul asked, frowning with concern. "Maybe I should check your temperature."
"I'm not ill, just tired." Liam protested a little irritably. Then, as he was leaving the room, he turned to Connor.
"Can I have a goodnight hug?"
For a second, Connor wondered if his little brother was testing him to see if he'd keep his promise about giving him a hug whenever he wanted. Then he immediately decided that he didn't care if it was a test or not.
"Of course you can," he replied, stepping forward and opening his arms.
He glanced at Mike, wary of how he might react, but the redhead merely rolled his eyes. The hug lasted for almost half a minute before Liam decided that it was enough and left the room. For a few minutes, Connor sat on the sofa and tried to watch TV with the others, but he couldn't stop thinking about the expression on his little brother's face when he requested a hug.
"I'm just going to check on Liam," he said as he stood up.
When he got to Liam's room, it was empty, and presuming his little brother was in the bathroom, he sat on the bed and waited. It wasn't long before Liam, wearing his dressing gown over his pyjamas, came into the room. He was surprised to see his brother, but before he could say anything, Connor spoke.
"It's ages since I had a bedtime cuddle," he said. "Can I have one now?"
"Ages and ages," Liam agreed.
They lay down on the bed and snuggled together, just as they'd done for as long as either of them could remember. There was no need for words, as they both enjoyed the comfort of the familiar closeness. After a few minutes, it was clear to Connor that his little brother was falling asleep, so he gently disentangled himself and stood up.
"Come on, sleepyhead," he whispered. "Take off your dressing gown and get into bed."
After the drowsy little boy complied, Connor went downstairs, where Paul met him with a concerned, questioning look.
"Liam's okay," Connor reassured his big brother. "He's asleep."
Before Connor went to bed, he and Mike went to the parlour to play some video games. When they'd had enough of that and decided to get ready for bed, Connor started to enthuse about the planned trip to Barbados.
When Paul had initially proposed it and had booked the flights and the villa, Liam and Connor had been very excited. They'd spent considerable time online with Paul and Stephane, finding out about the island and all the activities available. However, that had been in the summer, and for the boys, Christmas had seemed to be a long time in the future. By September, when they were settling in at their new schools, much of the excitement had faded.
Then, in October, Paul had brought up the topic again, saying that it would be a good idea to book some things in advance. He pointed out that restaurants would quickly get booked up for Christmas Day and that some of the things they were most looking forward to might not be available if they weren't booked in advance.
Selecting and booking what they wanted to do had renewed the boys' enthusiasm, and as Christmas time got closer, the upcoming trip became a larger part of their conversations. This had not gone unnoticed by their friends. Oliver, who was envious but also wondered if it might all be a little too adventurous for his tastes, listened patiently to Connor talking about what he was looking forward to doing.
Mike was not as patient as Oliver, and when Connor brought it up again that night in the parlour, the redhead felt a little irritated.
"You'll be stuck doing everything with Aunt Anne for almost two weeks," he pointed out when Connor told him yet again how he and Liam would have window seats on the plane.
"We won't be doing everything together," Connor said, disappointed and a little exasperated by his friend's negative tone. "Liam and Stephane will be looking at gardens when I go sailing with Paul. And Aunt Anne and Uncle Geoffrey will be doing a rum thing."
"Rum thing?"
"Yeah, they want to see where rum is made. Sounds boring, but old people are weird like that."
"They probably want to drink free samples," Mike commented. "I bet they get drunk."
"And they won't be going on the submarine with the rest of us," Connor said, ignoring the redhead's comment.
One evening early in the following week, John was in his bedroom doing homework when Mike appeared in the doorway.
"Calculus is stupid," he said vehemently. "And it's completely pointless."
John, who didn't disagree, remained silent as he looked at the redhead.
"If you help me with my homework, you can come to my room later," Mike said.
"I'd help you anyway. Just ask. You don't need to offer me anything," John replied, knowing exactly what the invitation implied.
"I'm asking."
"Okay, bring your books and show me what your problem is."
Mike sat next to John as the older boy explained as best he could how to solve the problem. By the time that he'd finished, it was obvious to both boys that the close proximity and frequent semi-accidental touching had been arousing. The redhead stood up and made no attempt to cover the bulge in his jeans.
"When everyone's gone to bed, you can come to my room," he said. Seeing that John didn't seem to be as eager as he'd expected, he decided to make things clear. "We can play the game."
"Which game?" John asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Do we need to play the truth game to avoid telling lies?"
"I wasn't talking about the truth game."
"If I come to your room, why does it have to be a game? Why do we have turns taking charge? Why does anyone have to take charge? Why can't we just do what we feel like?"
Before responding, Mike went to the door and made sure no one was in the hallway.
"We don't have to take turns," he said, sounding a little hurt. "It was just a way to get things started. You said you'd never done it before. I thought that maybe you didn't really know what you'd like."
"I do have an imagination, you know. And I've read about sex, so I've a pretty good idea about what I'd like."
"Real sex isn't always what people imagine, and it's not the same as porn," Mike said with both conviction and sadness. "I just wanted to show you the real thing, and I thought taking turns would be fair."
He didn't add that his experience of sexual interactions had rarely involved taking turns even when he had considered it to be part of a fair exchange. He had tried to show consideration for John's lack of experience and was now hurt that John had interpreted his attempt to be fair as part of the sex game. Seeing the redhead's unhappy expression, John began to suspect that there had been some misunderstanding.
"So once we get used to things, maybe we can just let things happen," John suggested.
"Yeah," the redhead replied a little more doubtfully than John would have preferred. "But it's best to talk about that in my room after everyone's in bed."
"Why does it have to be your room?"
"Duh!" Mike said, rolling his eyes. "You've just got a tiny bunk bed."
"And do I just have to wait until you invite me to your room?"
"You can always ask for an invite," Mike replied. "If you ask, I probably won't say 'no'. But we can't sneak around too often in case we get caught."
He left the room, leaving a confused John to finish his homework.
Later, when the hallway lights had been dimmed and the house was quiet, John went to Mike's room. John sat at the desk, and Mike sat on the bed. After their earlier discussion, they had both been thinking about what might happen next. Mike went straight to the point.
"So what is it that you want?" he asked.
"Well, I like what we did before. It was great, and it would be great if we keep on doing it. But it felt a bit, erm…" John paused, trying to search for the right words. "It felt just physical, like two people who didn't care about each other just wanting to get an orgasm."
Mike was surprised by the other boy's mention of caring and the suggestion that getting an orgasm wasn't an adequate goal. Although he'd tried to avoid movies and TV shows about romance, he'd occasionally had to sit through them. So he knew all about such things in theory, but he'd always considered romantic love to be a weakness. While he was still processing these thoughts and feelings, John plucked up the courage to speak even more openly.
"I've cared about you for a long time, and I was hoping that maybe eventually you might care about me."
"Foster brothers are supposed to care about each other," Mike said with a resigned sadness. "But in my experience, most don't."
"What about Connor and Liam? They seem to care about you. Don't you care about them?"
"Connor's my friend," the redhead replied as if that in itself was a complete explanation. He squinted his eyes and gave John an accusatory look. "But you didn't mean that sort of caring."
"Yeah. You're right," John admitted.
Mike remained silent, and the way he was looking at John made it obvious that he expected the older boy to clarify his intentions.
"I want us to be friends, and I think… hope that we already are. I want to do sex stuff, but I'd like it to be affectionate and show we care."
John didn't dare to add that he'd had a crush on Mike for a long time and that since he'd moved into the foster home, he'd started to fall in love with him.
"So that's why you wanted to hug and cuddle," Mike said.
"Yeah."
"But if you do that in private, you might forget and do something like that when someone can see. Then we'd both be in the shit."
"But if I suck your dick in private, maybe I could forget and do it when someone can see," John teased with more than a hint of sarcasm. "I'm not stupid, and I can control myself."
"I'm not really into lovey-dovey cuddles and stuff."
"Maybe you'd like hugs and cuddles with the right person. Maybe you just need someone you can really trust."
"There's never been anyone like that."
John stood up and held his arms wide.
Mike's first instinct was to pretend to puke and run to the bathroom. However, as John continued to stand there with his arms open in invitation, he felt confused. Fear, suspicion, and distrust were still the dominant emotions, but then he wondered what he had to lose and whether the risk might be worth it. There was still the reassurance of mutually assured destruction. He stood up and allowed John to hug him.
At first, he felt constrained and very uncomfortable, and he almost pulled away in panic. John, sensing this and following his own instincts, leaned in and lightly kissed Mike's ear before gently nuzzling his neck. Mike became less tense, but he didn't relax. However, he did raise his arms and put them around John's waist.
"This is dangerous," Mike whispered, mostly addressing himself.
"No one will find out," John reassured him.
"It's not that. I mean that you get hurt if you like people too much," the redhead said in an emotionless tone that he might use to describe one of the laws of physics. "People come and people go. If you get attached, you get hurt."
"I promise that I'll never hurt you."
Mike sighed as he realised that John hadn't really understood him. However, that didn't prevent him from tightening his grip on the older boy and stepping backward until they both fell onto the bed. They spent the next hour or so learning how best to give each other pleasure. John took care to avoid both things that Mike had declared to be off-limits, although it took great willpower to avoid kissing the redhead's lips.
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