Johnny Come Home
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 6
The pretext for John's excursion to Alex's house, and for the benefit of John's parents' peace of mind was to help Alex with the garden.
'It's too early to go gardening John……..don't you think?' Says Alex, re-arranging the bath towel around the boy's shoulders, the one he'd just dried him with.
'Yes.' The boy replies with those sky-blue eyes, twinkling in the early morning light, as Alex pushes his fingers through the light brown hair and then teasing it forwards the way John has it, dividing in the middle to leave some forehead visible.
'Put these on please.' Alex insists, handing the small garment to John, who dutifully puts his feet through and pulls them up into place.
'How's that? Go and look in the mirror.'
'Nice.' The boy says, admiring himself, sans towel now.
Very nice, thinks Alex, observing John's straight back, slender arms and legs and the bit in between, cosily clad in white, the label showing at the back which he had meant to remove, but the embroidered name of the previous owner safely concealed. Simon would have been quite chuffed to know that what he had left behind that afternoon now adorned Johnny's interesting body.
There's only one place to spend the next hour, at least, think both boys.
'Warmer now?' Enquires Alex, his arms either side of the boy's chest. There's a tiny space between the two bodies in the bed, just wide enough for the two of them.
' Getting warmer. Your skin feels nice and warm. Can we cuddle?' Asks Johnny.
Alex can feel John's hands on his back, just as his are on John's. When he first felt those hands touch his skin, he sighed, just as he always did when he and Richard played together, their middles coming together. The sighs came louder and almost continuously when the truly loving brothers got into a rhythm.
It had started in the school library, this little adventure, and when the arrangement was made for John to help Alex with his work one Saturday morning, all agreed with his people at home, the boys had an alternative agenda not spoken of.
The boys look at each other, sky blue into green. Alex blows soft breath onto John's forehead making his now dry hair part. John smiles, eyes twinkling.
'I like that. Do that again please.'
So Alex does, moving his head closer to John's face. John looks at Alex's mouth from whence the warm breath flows. He moves his face closer still as both boys close their eyes. When John feels Alex's hands behind his head, he moves his head too, and the inexorable narrowing of any space between them closes; mouths first, and then bodies too. This is the very first time they've touched, no hands, and it's magical. They're not proper kisses yet, those early clumsy attempts, but soon they will be.
Garth makes the tea in the mornings, not that Sean wouldn't, but Garth is the nurturing kind and feels it is his duty. It's not his only duty when the first weekend morning comes around. But that's for afterwards, and only if Sean wants it. He doesn't always.
'How are things down there Garth?'
Garth has to wonder exactly what Sean is referring to.
'What things?'
'With those boys. Any sounds of movement?'
The door from the kitchen into the well house, Alex's accommodation, is a relatively thin plywood one, and the boy's bed head is just to the left of it. It's the way the furniture had to be arranged due to shape of the space. It had to go there.
'I think our cyclist has come for a reason Sean.'
'Oh, really?' whispers Sean a he sits himself up to receive his mug of steaming tea.
'Did you hear the bath running?'
'No.'
'Did you enjoy your bath John?' Enquires Alex, his arm around his friend's shoulder.
'Yes, very much thanks. Did you?'
Alex laughs at that witticism from John. He wasn't the one enjoying the bath; or was he?
'Can I feel you now?'
'You can right now, can't you?'
'I meant with hands. Anywhere apart from our clothed parts.'
'So that's off limits is it?'
'Yes. It's was your rule wasn't? Making me wear these things.'
'I like you like this.' Alex says, pulling at the waistband, and playfully letting it snap back against Johnny's tummy.
'You're weird.'
'It's for your own protection John. I'm putting you in charge now. Everything is your decision.'
'To be or not to be?'
'Precisely. I don't want you doing anything you wouldn't let your brother do.'
'They were just games.'
'Nice games?'
'I love him, but in a different way.'
'Different to what John?'
'Different to you.'
Alex felt tears forming as he looked at John looking at him. What a thing to hear from anybody? He kissed the boy on his lips again, lightly and tenderly, allowing himself some forwards movement of his hips so the two bodies touched again. John appears to be back on top form again.
'Were you in love, you and that person? Quintus wasn't it?'
'I think so. In fact I know so.'
'He with you?'
'Yes, in his own way, with hindsight. He had caught me with a friend. I think he followed us.'
'And then he said he'd tell if you didn't let him do it to you?'
'No! He was lovely. He'd never do anything like that to me. He did love me in the only way he could.'
'As opposed to the way he couldn't.'
'Exactly that. The way he couldn't.'
'But would like to have done?'
'He knew the rules when he got involved with that way of life. Living with boys. It was his choice. Probably quite a painful choice at times. But there was plenty for him to enjoy, all those naked bodies to look at.'
'In a bad way?'
'No, in a good way. He just had to eliminate sex, as he once told me. We are all human John. We are all wired for certain things. Sometimes different things.'
'Like now?'
'Yes, if you like.'
'Now then?'
'I'm putting you in charge John.'
'So you're not responsible for your actions then?' Observes John, twisting Alex's ear.
'Yes I am , and I have choices just as you have.'
'To not allow me to do what I want?'
'My choice is to let you express yourself as you want to. As you are doing.'
John pulls Alex into him, harder still.
'I want to be with you Alex. For as long as possible.'
'You can. For as long as possible.'
'How long will that be?'
'I don't know. But…….carpe diem.'
'What's that?'
'Never mind. It was in a play I saw on TV. Y ou're here now.'
John rolls on top of Alex so they are face to face, and then lays his head to the side of Alex's on the pillow.
'Rub my back please. Like you did in the bath.'
So Alex does, as John sighs with the sheer pleasure of it all. Loud sighs, over and over again. As John works his way a few inches higher up Alex's body, Alex finds his hands are at the perfect height to comfort the boy's bottom, safe inside the smooth white cotton fabric.
Quintus Beer had seen Alex with Simon, from a distance. Alex knew Simon was interested in him although somewhat younger than he was. A common scenario. A look here, a look there, a smile, an 'accidentally on purpose' bumping into one another in a narrow corridor, a meaningful but very short conversation whilst leaving the games field on a warm afternoon, the ensuing stroll to the periphery, and a sit down to chat that led to a cuddle and that easy to manage with no kissing kind of sex boys have that just involves their hands. They didn't cuddle up together afterwards, but just talked briefly, pulling up his shorts and discarding the underwear before Simon made his excuses and left him there. Alex watched the boy walk off, pulling at the hem of his games short shorts like boys of his age do as they become more self-conscious, and the thought that other boys might be looking at their bottoms, all in most boy's imagination of course, but not in Simon's case. In his case they certainly were looking. Simon was one of those pretty boys that got noticed . Now he had cemented his place in Alex's visual vocabulary, his personal store of information that could be called up as and when needed, as was that article of his clothing, that bit of litter that a passer-by would wonder……..how on earth did those get there?
He could have raided lost property and found plenty more.
'Have you noticed that Simon Perret Alex?' The boy asks, moving a smelly pair of socks to one side.
'No. What about him?' Replies Alex, nonchalantly, watching his friend sort through what could be kept, washed and sent to the school shop.
'A Fourth Former. Have a look next time.'
Alex didn't need to. He had clocked that boy's potential ages ago. And he certainly didn't tell him that they had had a brief coming together earlier that afternoon in the longer grass when Simon had donated his knickers to the cause. They were folded neatly and removed from the scene of the crime, concealed and compacted in Alex's firm grip. Another trophy from a mini-conquest.
Alex had brought a couple of friends back to the house for the day since he and Sean had moved here, after the divorce. Alison had agreed to Sean's custody of the boy, surprisingly, aided by Alex choosing his father over his mother. Sean knew about Quintus Beer and Alex's unfortunate infatuation. He and Alison hadn't realised the depth of the boy's feelings, not until that cathartic breakdown that evening of his return, defeated in love and now bereft. All his roaring pubescent hopes dashed. Quintus had gone for ever. His brother Richard, just turned nine, didn't understand what was going on with Johnny. His mother, Alison did, thank goodness, while the boy sobbed uncontrollably in her arms. It happens to boys that age. But they get over things like that, with no harm done; hopefully. Just put it down to experience and move on. So little Alexander did move on. There wasn't much choice. And then Johnny arrived on the scene. The twinkling sky-blue eyes, and the rest of him . A knee resting against his, sitting at the library table. A hand touching his, lightly. And now, lying together in bed on a wet Saturday morning, a body on top of his, moving in that provocative way. They're not naked and just as well. It's not just the boy moving his body up and down his which is bad enough, it's the sounds he's coming up with. Every movement, another sound that expresses the pleasures he wants to heap on Alex.
'You had better stop John.' Alex says, breathing deeply.
'Why?' Asks John, smiling down at him. He'd sat himself up, still sitting on Alex in that way, his hands on Alex's tummy.
'Why do you think?'
'Oh. Ok. Shall I turn round? That might be better.'
It was worse, and those sounds again. Alex has a view of John's back now, a beautiful straight back to stroke, knees either side of his thighs, shoulders to feel, a bottom to look at, as it moves forward and hard against him, and then back again, over and over, with sounds . But the sensations are just the same as before, the way the boy is working the situation. He should never have invited him to take control. It's far too soon. There's so much more savouring to be done surely? He pulls at the boy's shoulders. That works, as John's body falls gently back onto his chest, the emergency over, albeit temporarily. His hands travel over the boy's chest, the hardened nipples, two ultra smooth domes at his finger-tips. Louder sounds now, describing deep joy, all love excelling. Louder now, the sounds the boy is making. Is he faking something? No, this is genuine pleasure expressed his way. A very sexual boy indeed.
'So when do we get to meet your guest Alex?' Garth asks as he washes up the two mugs at the sink, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the boy.
'I'm doing a pale wash this morning. Put those straight in the machine please.' He continues, smiling inwardly. Alex wasn't expecting to see his father's partner, the gentle Garth, until much later in the morning. Alex felt his face warm and imagined what shade of pink it might be by now. He did what he was told, not that he wanted too.
Perhaps it wasn't too soon. Perhaps it was the perfect time. After all, they had all day, the two boys. They had been building up to this for weeks, privately and in their own heads, permissions granted to be together like they had been, just minutes ago. No one could say that they shouldn't have, surely? Love divine, all loves excelling, and all that. Yes, John had excelled himself. As Alex walks back through the door retightening the belt around his white towelling gown as he goes, Garth dries the two tea mugs and places them back on the shelf before wandering, somewhat guiltily, over to the machine and opens the door, ostensibly to rearrange the load. That's what he has told himself.
Garth has noticed the embroidered name, Simon Perret. The wash, not a quick cycle, will be done and dried well before the boy goes home, presumably. He can have them back. He always thought Alex had excellent taste. Simon. Such a sweet name, and surely perfect for that boy with the long legs and pretty face he saw out there an hour ago, wet through.
'Anything to report Garth?' Asks Sean, sitting up, turning over another page of his paperback.
'Simon Perret. That's the boy's name. That's nice isn't it. I think it suits him.'
Garth explains how he got to know their visitor's name. Sean puts his book down, looking thoughtful, not having actually seen the boy on the bike arrive this morning.
'You said this chap has dark hair didn't you?'
'No. Lighter than that. Mid to light brown I think.'
'Oh that's odd. I happen to know that Simon Perret has very blond hair. So who is that down there then?'
Not Simon Perret.
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