The Bus Stop

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 14

I'll not be forgetting that look on Kerry's face for a while, so full of expression and overflowing, like a cascade of feeling, just as I was feeling for him. Actually there is no touching, as I absorb what I have just been told. All that work has paid off, but at this definitive moment for us just to be still and quiet is a perfect state of our being. Us two boys together sharing each other's lives, here in such an ordinary yet beautiful and calm place, listening and watching the rhythm of a quiet sea. Not thinking, all feeling now in abeyance; just watching those patterns of water caressing those pebbles, and listening to the sounds they make, both harsh and soft all in one numbed sensation. He's passed his test. I did too, by the skin of my teeth, but my sister Fiona did not. I turn my head towards the boy I am in love with, truly.

'May I?' I say, poised with my arm. He nods and smiles through his pretty tear- stained face.

That's enough for me. But not for him.

'I want to kiss you Arlo.'

You can do that with heavy raincoats on.

Albeit beneath plenty of clothing, the joining of our mouths, the interplay of our tongues probing and tangling, and no arms or hands involved, still does the usual trick of getting our bodies excited. I've always thought that's the test. Whether kissing excites. It all depends on who it is, presumably, and which sex too. I've never kissed a girl. Would the same thing happen if I did? And will I ever? Maybe with that Lilly female on the bus, just to see?

If you have done it, you will know that walking up a steep shingle beach is hard work; lots of effort for slow progress, plus a loaded rucksack on your back. At the top we paused to get our breath back. We stop to look at each other. Just doing that turns me on. I take one hand of his and we walk on.

We didn't speak during the ten-minute walk back to the house, but everything was said through our hands, the squeezes, the pressing of fingers, and then just as we reached the front door, Kerry brings my hand to his face and kisses the back of it, and then takes my thumb between his lips and begins to stroke the underside with his tongue. I have never asked him, or he, me. It's a magical moment that promises everything for both of us as soon as the formalities are over and we can get upstairs. There's mum to inform first. She knows Kerry will know his result by now.

'Hello boys. Good day?' pretending to forget the expected news.

'Fine thanks mum.' I said, looking at Kerry who was taking off his outdoor coat and reaching up to hang it up on the back of the kitchen door. In so doing his tailless shirt and jumper ride up to leave a few centimetres of bare skin visible. Nice. When he turns round to see mum looking for an answer he just stands there.

'And what about you Kerry? Is………everything alright?'

Kerry's smile dissolves and transforms into a strange kind of distorted mixture of tears and joy. It's not a pretty look. Alarmed mum moves forward to put her hands on the boy's shoulders……

'Darling, what on earth is the matter? Tell me……please!'

Kerry just looks back at her, his expression just as alarming as it is ugly. Has he not told me something?

'Speak to me darling! What is it?'

'I passed.'

Mum looks at our boy appearing to be quite unable to process the two words he has just uttered.

'You passed?'

Kerry nods losing control completely, his wide eyes still focussed on my mother.

Mum has him in her arms, tightly, stroking his back; for the next two minutes. There are tears in her eyes too, and I can't not be part of this highly charged emotionally explosive scenario. Mum releases Kerry, her hands on his arms now as a smile slowly returns to his lovely face. Mum wipes the tears away……

'Go upstairs you two. There's a surprise for you.' She says, wiping away her tears with a tea towel.

My new bed, and it's right next to Kerry's! And a new duvet with a seaside theme too. It's the same size as my old one, same style and everything, and crucially the same height. But there's one problem. They're not together. Well, that's easily solved as and when we want to. My boy is pleased too.

'What do you think Kerry?' I ask, my hand behind his neck.

'There's a gap between us?'

'But nothing in the gap.'

Very true, so easy-peasy to close that gap and make it into a double. We tried doing exactly that and hey presto, it was a very simple solution to the main impediment that has been stunting our sexual development, or rather, progress in that department. What with mum's recent decision, prompted by sister Fiona's helpful input about allowing us much more privacy, the way ahead for us is no longer strewn with rocks, but smooth. Or smoother at least.

With that achieved, we stood together and looked at each other knowing that the potential to widen our horizons as a couple, was as good as it was ever likely to get. We have a double bed to go to sleep in and to wake up in, and do anything else we wanted to do.

'Shall we get out of our school stuff Arlo?'

'Sounds like a plan.'

'Undress me please. I'm too tired to do it myself.' He says, smiling sweetly. Oh those twinkling eyes, the sexy little……… person !

This is something that really appeals to me, and in the other direction too; being undressed, whoever by. Big sister Fiona was often given that task, to get me ready for my evening bath.

Arms raised high as the top stuff comes off, and then trousers undone please, and underpants revealed with that pretty little bump at the front. We know what that is don't we, and at this moment, slumbering peacefully. But this should wake him up.

'You're so soft in there, so lovely and smooth.'

'Am I? And my back bits too?'

I turned my little lover boy around to admire his pants clad bottom, and pass my palms around the boy's hips and then over those firm plump forms, venturing in between, just to hint, perhaps? When he faces me again, I know what he needs now. A long lasting and enduring sensation between our mouths and lips, and tongues, and of course, our hands too.

This is our celebration of our success. That's what this is really all about. Not any kind of complicated sex. We've worked hard together to achieve it and now we can relax and enjoy it. Simple things together, but everything however uncomplicated, should end happily for both of us.

Kerry stands before me naked and upstanding. My own pleasure and fulfilment can wait. But this is my pleasure. To bring my boy to orgasm gently and quietly. He's asked me to do that for him, and the way he's asked me, so sweetly. We had finished with our mouths and tongues and it had been as lovely as it always is. Down under, so to speak, there a little wetness there. I love that, to feel it with the pad of my thumb and move it around the glistening dome.

'Arlo.'

'What is it darling?'

'I want to come. Will you do it for me please?'

'Of course.'

'Can I see it later?'

By the time I had set up my phone somewhere where it was completely stable and wasn't going to move, Kerry had rather lost the momentum, but that's the pleasure in this simple but moving process. The playing, the coaxing of the boy back to life and then the needing. It lasts six minutes and thirty-two seconds and takes the story from small beginnings to the end, complemented by all the appropriate sounds that only Kerry can produce as I take him through his journey this evening, ending with………..something very nice indeed. Quite impressive really, considering where he was a month ago. Maybe I've had an influence on his physical development? Hardly. All our gentle playfulness together has hastened the process somewhat.

Time for a playback as we lie together on our new sleeping arrangements.

He's on his side so we see his back, knees raised and his little white pants still in place, my hand starting the whole business off in the way I like to take him down this road. Then he rolls onto his back and I can reveal him and make him ready for what is to come. And it does come, beautifully, the sounds he makes moulded around the vision of a young boy experiencing a strong orgasm. It took time, just as it should do, as it must do to be right. And it was right. Perfect in fact.

And then the aftermath, the gentle resolution to the problem, the finger tips to explore his achievement, the last drops to be examined and savoured, the shiny tummy flesh to be wiped with soft white cotton and brought to our noses, the faint perfume of Kerry's essence in our nostrils, the sheer joy of it all. We have it all now. We have what we've had, but there will be more. When we are together, as one body, consumed in each other.

Inner peace reigns within us both.

Kerry slept for a few minutes but I didn't. I just wanted to watch my boy, breathing deeply like this, his chest rising and falling like the tides. In and out; in and out. Such beauty in my arms, such joy in one body, and for now, mine to celebrate. And when he wakes……….drink to me only with thine eyes my dearest creature.

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss within the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.

I touched his mouth with mine as he slept, but not to disturb his breathing, and I touched his body too, so gently, as he turns away from me, knees raised, buttocks protruding and………….so close to my hand. I reached for what I needed, and found it just where I had left it. This is my pleasure now, and as he slowly awakes, and in his semi-conscious state, it is his pleasure too. But never mind Jove, might I of Kerry's nectar sup? I rather think that's a distinct possibility but more in the future than now. I can never suggest something of an advancement to our kissing and cuddling because he's younger than I am. If there is to be any advancement it must come from him. Only him.

'You ok sweetheart?'

'Umm. That was nice; just now; what you were doing.'

'I've thought for a while that you would enjoy that bit of you. Is that right?'

'Umm. But you don't do enough. You just stop when…….'

'Oh, sorry. Is it something special for you?'

'Umm. It just starts to feel special when you do it like that.'

'Like it said in the Book?'

'Yes. Just like that. You just don't go on long enough; or far enough. You start and then stop. You tease me. It's not fair.'

Is he serious?

Mum's calling up to us. It's a mealtime for us, a typical interruption.

I helped Kerry get dressed in play clothes, all my old stuff, and way too sexy to chuck out. You don't see short shorts like that these days but they fit Kerry alright, just, in fact he shows rather well in them, at the back very nicely and at the front too, the very modest bulk of his boy parts clearly visible. With Kerry it's hard to know exactly what the word flaccid really means! I can hardly wait until the summer when I can parade him along Hythe seafront in those things, coupled with a short tee shirt with a bit of tummy and back flesh showing. There are bound to be a few appreciative eyes on him, pretending to admire the view but actually admiring a subtly different view. I have to admit doing that myself in those very same shorties just to see who looks at you. It's not just the odd adult male, but plenty of boys do, and girls too. It's a little scary, the idea of doing that, but very exciting. I'm terrified that one day someone will actually stop me and make some dodgy enquiries concerning my movements for the rest of the afternooon. I'm hoping they will, but also hoping they won't. A bit odd really. A kind of terrifying playing with fire game. If Kerry is still here, the two of us can do it. A bit of safety in numbers eh?

'Oh there you are boys. I thought you'd got lost for a minute.' Mum says, oven glove in hand, emphasizing the word there . 'Kerry darling, you look flushed. Are you feeling alright?'

'I'm ok thanks.' Kerry says quietly, looking down at his empty plate.

'I expect you're getting over your wonderful news. An early night I think for you young man. Arlo, I need a word with you after Kerry goes up.'

Oh bugger. That tone of voice usually means something I'd rather not hear.

'The woman from social services was around again this morning. They are happy for Kerry to stay here until the Court hearing. They are going over Miriam's will. It was amongst all the papers I found there. One or two relatives are mentioned, and their addresses. I think you should be prepared darling. He may well have to go back to one of them. Is he alright? He looks very flushed this evening.'

'He's fine mum, but he has trouble at night.'

'What kind of trouble darling?'

'He wakes me up in a bit of a panic some nights. Then I have to try to settle him down and then leave him. Sometimes he cries too. So I have to go back to him again and sit with him for a while. He'll probably be better now he's got his exam result behind him. Maybe. It's been horrible for him mum.'

I just had the idea, totally out of the blue, a flash of inspiration. Knowing mum, it might just work.

'Oh dear. Perhaps you could put the two beds together darling? So he feels more secure with you near him? Would you mind? I think that would be a kindness.'

Oh indeed it would be! And it's Friday tomorrow. Life drawing. We need to be ready for that.

07.55 at the bus stop.

Lilly was on the back seat, not by the window but one space in, making it pretty clear what we mere boys were supposed to do. Apart from her general bidding, we are to sit either side of her with Kerry in his usual place next to the window. I suppose she will have to be tolerated, besides Kerry told me she was 'alright', whatever that really meant. It wasn't long before we got our orders.

'You sit there.' She says pointing to her left where I go. 'You're next.'

For what, pray?

'Why not him again?' I said, gesturing towards Kerry who was grinning.

'I had him last time. It's your turn now.' And in so saying she squeezes between my knees and the seat in front and plonks herself in my lap, my arms to my sides, her legs either side of mine, thus her knees are wide apart, her tartan skirt ridden well up her thighs. I'm wondering what she might have in mind for me. I check out the pair of bare legs which look very similar to Kerry's slender examples. One of her knees bears the faint scar of some sort of mishap. She leans back against my chest, being noticeably shorter than yours truly, her head way under my chin.

'Feel me, and not too softly. I want to feel it properly. Ok?'

Err, absolutely not.

'Try not to be more silly than you already are Lilly, please.'

'Why don't you want to?'

'It's not what you do on the school bus. We'll get thrown off it, or banned. What will your mummy say then?'

I have to say this experience is not unpleasant. I looked sideways at Kerry who was smirking broadly. Actually it is quite nice, this slim little body pressing down on mine, and on a sensitive area as well, just to make life a little more awkward.

We passed through Sandgate and were approaching Cheriton before she deigned to get off me. At one point I wondered if girls enjoy a bit of bottom fiddling, or is it just us that like it. I reckon a girl's back bum has to be the same as a boy's, apart from the prostate which I know they can't have. That's just for us lucky boys , that is.

Her knees went even wider apart, her skirt so high up it was around her hips, her pale pink knickers in full view as were my hands, one on whatever she calls it. Her thing, and the other hand on her inner thigh and my fingers creeping towards her pants. To my surprise my penis had swollen and was getting decidedly uncomfortable. Lilly must have felt it come up under her because that was the end of ordeal, or that part of it. She slid off me into the vacant space in between me and the fascinated Kerry, still displaying her pretty knickers which I thought very attractive and how good Kerry would look in them. Before you could say gnat, she was undoing the clip that held my trousers together and lowering the zip fastener on her own voyage of discovery. She's very welcome.

'Yours is bigger than your friend's. I like it.' She says.

'Oh do you?'

'Yes I do. Does it come?'

'It might.'

'Make it come then.' She orders. 'I want to see it come out. Go on!'

'It takes too long. Sorry Lilly.'

'Why?'

'Because it does. I don't know why, exactly. It depends on……..'

'On what?'

'Oh, nothing. Can you let go now please?'

'Let me do it then. Are you gay?'

'That's nothing to do with you is it, even if I was, and I'm not.'

'Why do you wear those pants then? They're like girls' pants.'

'No they are not . Boys' actually.'

I looked at Kerry whilst doing myself up. He was wide eyed and I think quite pleased to have witnessed my bravery. Lilly just got up and went back to her usual seat. End of, as they say, leaving me with a totally unexpected experience to ponder upon, my one and only association with a girl. It wasn't a huge amount of fun. Boys have way more to offer!

We arrived bang on time, again, for our money-making job as models for Phil's life class; at ten past four, and it was the same seven people sitting astride 'donkeys' or standing at a three-legged easel, the large sheets of paper held on the boards by chrome spring clips, all ready for us, lengths of charcoal poised. Having undressed in front of two sixth form boys and two girls that might well be school students, plus Henry and two other men who had so far said nothing. Phil had left two chairs on the central dais for our clothes, implying that he intended us to get naked on the dais. This struck me as an attempt to make our undressing a spectacle. Is that reasonable to ask us to do that? Anyway we did it. I felt just a little used , not by the younger ones who I noticed deliberately busied themselves with fiddling with pencils and rubbers, but by Henry in particular who kept his eyes on Kerry the whole time. I looked at Kerry who was clearly engaging with Henry's prolonged concentration on him. I'm not liking this at all.

Kerry left his pants until last, the whole process reminding me of that final scene in the film, the Full Monty. It was a performance for Henry. We stood naked on the dais waiting to be posed.

'I think we'll have you looking like friends shall we?'

I looked at Phil, wondering what he meant by that.

'So……we need you interacting a bit more I think. An arm around each other; can we?'

Kerry and I stood in front of one another, Kerry looking quite keen on the idea of being held by me in some way.

'Perhaps if your faces were almost touching? That might work nicely. Kerry, your arms around your friend's neck too, and yours Arlo either side of Kerry's hips please, but leave a little space between you. Yes, that's looks perfect. I'll mark the position of your feet.'

Kerry's face is uncomfortably close to mine as he looks into my eyes, with half a smile. Ten minutes of this and it might become a little awkward for us, especially if the small gap between us closes, just a little. He's going to feel me against his tummy, but I can prevent that because I'm holding him by his hips. On the other hand if things are going wrong, I can hide it by letting our bodies touch.

It's a tricky pose to hold, this one, but I managed to keep a small space between mine and Kerry's body, but Kerry is not behaving.

'Keep your hands still please.' I whisper to Kerry.

'I can't.'

'Yes you bloody can. This isn't funny Kerry. I know what you're doing. Stop it please.'

Something has got into him. A cloud of euphoria maybe, resulting from his exam success, no doubt still swirling around his head, just like it is with me, and mum too. It was no mean achievement, for both of us.

Kerry will not stop what he's doing to me, and he knows it. What I must not do is to let it affect me, but he's so good at this, I doubt if I can. Phil has done this deliberately, putting us together like this. The two small electric heaters are very effective, casting an orange glow on our lower legs and keeping us warm as we stand here, vulnerable perhaps, and certainly on show; two young boys' bodies to admire.

'Boys, if you can put a little movement into the pose please, like hands……..whole body movements if you can. Class, don't be afraid to adjust the lines to show how the boys move, ok?'

'Like this?' Kerry asks.

'Perfect sweetheart, but make sure you don't change the position of your feet ……..please.' Replies an earnest sounding Phil.

I'm sure Kerry was already aware of what Phil was going to ask us to do. He certainly did not ask me about this.

This whole thing is becoming a performance as Kerry's hand runs up and down my back stopping well short of my bottom, which would have been an overt gesture. So I start to mimic his hand movements, gently feeling the bumps as my fingers trace a line down Kerry's back whilst making sure there was still not contact with the front of his body which, if I glance down between us, I can see perfectly. I'm terrified Kerry's going to get one of his classics. I'm sure I can stave it off by thinking about a simultaneous equation or something like that but I know Kerry doesn't have any control, and once the process begins, it won't stop. Once he gets a thought in that head of his, that's it. He'll get one. If he does, there's no knowing if I will or not. Once the blood starts flowing in there……..

I glance down between us again. Normally with Kerry you can't see the head of his penis but now it's there, gradually emerging from the skinny sheath of pale skin. I cast a glance towards Henry who has stopped drawing, the piece of charcoal in his hot hand still now, the dirty sod. He can't get enough of this little performance from Kerry. And then Phil announces a break. Just in time.

By the end of the five-minute break Kerry had retreated to normal thank goodness. His performance had affected me too but not noticeably. Phil looked at him and raised an eyebrow, stifling a smile. That's the thing about Kerry, it wouldn't bother him, getting a horn, anywhere. I reckon, if he's still with us in the summer, he's going to be a big hit on the beach. I'm sure I manage to attract some attention myself but this kid is amazing.

Last night we enjoyed a bit more freedom with our new sleeping accommodation. The two of us in a bed together. It's bliss, every single night and almost every morning too, soft and gentle. The book calls it a weird name, this rubbing ourselves up between our upper thighs and our bottoms, pressing against each other's middle bits, aided by some of that very useful Knect lubricant which makes the whole operation so much easier and enjoyable. We made the decision some while back not to be in a hurry over anything but to savour each progressive stage until such time as we manage to do what I suspect Henry dreams of doing with Kerry, and possibly me too.

We've done six sessions for Phil now. We've stopped the portrait class on Tuesdays to concentrate on the life class Thursdays and Fridays because it pays way more. Henry never misses his twice weekly gaze at us while he traces our gently boyish contours with his 4B pencil or one of those messy charcoal sticks that leave tiny fragments over the floor. He's good too. Kerry always goes over to inspect the results of his acute observations, standing next to his easel admiring generally. I keep an eye on Henry and exactly what he does with his hands. He must be so tempted with Kerry practically leaning on him, flirting horribly. It's so obvious to everybody. I honestly don't think Kerry is aware of what it looks like but Henry certainly is. He's a handsome devil that one. Do I fancy him? Umm, a tricky one that. Yes I do in some ways, and I'm curious as to exactly how far Henry would want to go with us. I would put his age at a little over twenty. He always stands at one of those three-legged easels, one hand in his pocket.

Thinking of Henry, and what he might thinking, we get plenty of warnings at school in PSHE [Personal Social and Health Education] about the dangers of being befriended by adults, and the possible consequences, one being the risk of being photographed covertly and the images ending up who knows where and beyond our control. That made us think. Then we were shown an edited video of a boy who said he was ten, talking to a man who sounded quite young, via some sort of remote video link. The boy was persuaded to show the other person his naked body provided the man showed him his. We didn't see those images, obviously, but we got told what happened, and the horrible results of their recorded interaction. We were all shocked to our cores, the long-term damage done to lives through those kind of adventures some boys might fall for. The thing that struck me was the possibility that some boys might actually find it an interesting thing to do that they had never previously thought of. So in one way, something that was intended to protect us might have the opposite effect. I can see Kerry doing exactly that. I can tell you that he's not going to. Not while I have any influence over him. What we do is beautiful, but we do it together in private. Yes, we enjoy looking back at things we have done together, privately . That's fun and very stimulating, but it's entirely between ourselves. It's so easy these days to communicate with people via social media and that includes sharing images and videos, or some chat site.

But we have no reason to distrust Henry. It's not a crime to like looking at boys somewhat younger than you are. Making art derived from, or inspired by the live image of naked boys might be treading a fine line I agree. They say that if it's Art it's ok. Is it?

I sit next to Alan in PSHE. I saw him later at break in the playground. He asked me what I thought of the lesson we had just had. He had a surprise in store.

'I think if I had thought of talking to a complete stranger and doing what I think he wants me to do for him on a live chat, I wouldn't want to do that now.'

'Nor would I, not after that. But it's ok just between us isn't it?'

'Between us Alan?'

'Yes, if we went somewhere out of the way. Or if you came round to mine?'

'I had no idea Alan! You're a dark horse aren't you?'

'I know you are Arlo. So am I.'

'Honestly Alan I didn't realise. Is that what you want to do?'

'Yes, with you. No phones or anything, just us, somewhere. I would really like to. Would you mind?'

'Where then?'

'I only live two minutes away. We could go now, if you want to?'

He has a sweet face does Alan. Yes I do want to explore this surprise possibility. Let's go!

Alan lives just around the corner and although we are strictly not allowed off school premises at lunchtime without an approval note, you can easily slip out through a gate in the corner of the playing field and back in unnoticed, so in no more than five minutes we arrived at Alan's modest terraced Cheriton residence, and no one in as usual at that time of the day.

'Thanks Alan.' I said, sitting on the edge of his single bed.

'What for? I haven't asked you yet.'

'Thanks for asking me out. What did you have in mind; if anything?'

'I've never had my penis sucked. Have you?'

'No, not properly.'

'Oh. So you don't know how then?'

'I'm suspecting it can't be that hard Alan.'

'It isn't. Not at the moment.'

'Oh. Would you like me to take a look?'

'Yes please. You won't tell anyone will you?'

'No of course not! You don't have to do anything Alan. If you sit here I'll kneel between your legs. Just stand up in front of me to start with.'

'Shall I take my pants down?'

'No. I'll do everything.'

A couple of things to undo, and then he's there, in his cute panties almost identical to mine, waiting. This is a good moment and I'm feeling no guilt towards Kerry. This won't happen again. It's just one of those pleasant encounters one might have, a chance to do something a bit different with someone you don't really know at all. Another experience shall we say, and why not?

It's a nice little twelve-year-old thingy, uncircumcised with a generous excess of skinny stuff overhanging the bulbous head which shows through the thin skein of skin nicely. Let's see what we can do for Allan.

Fingers under his walnuts first, for a gentle fiddle and see what that does for his little morsel?

Are yes, definite progress here. The little creamy morsel is filling, thus making it enlarge by the second as the skinny bit retreats to leave just the very tip still visible. Time to engage with Alan.

I didn't seem to be getting anywhere although his slightly upwards curving bone felt ever firmer in my mouth……and hot too. Yes, in my mouth, a first for me, and I have to say, it felt fantastic. With Kerry, it was oddly taboo despite all our conversations based on what The Book had told us about all the different ways to please your partner. The Book called it mouth music. How apt.

I was on the point of giving up having given Alan my all, so to speak, when he began to make the right noises just like Kerry does when his moments are approaching and nearing the 'no turning back now' final stage before the explosion of hardly anything at all. Suddenly I got the words…….'it's coming'. Oh great.

It did come, warm and sickly and sweet, and sour, and sharp and………good. Yes it was good. And then, the stuff still in my mouth, I thought about where it had come from. Somewhere inside Alan's body. He held my head there, his penis well into me, until the very last of the spasms had diminished to nothingness. All gone. I thought how good he felt in my mouth, my tongue sliding up and down the back of his hardness right up and around the softer head, a tongue tip teasing the very tip, my fingers busy elsewhere. I just thought about what I would like if I was Alan. This is what I would like, just as the Guide to Gay Sex had told us.

Quite quickly the now satisfied creamy morsel settles back into sleep mode, even that being of interest to my tongue. It was a totally delicious sensation, the complete experience. I want more of this; lots more.

Alan lay flat down on his bed, me still kneeling between his knees. I pulled his pants back up and under him but left the front down enough for me to go on playing with the creamy morsel with my tongue. What a lovely little object and pleasure giver for us both that thing is. I love it. Thank you Alan.

At this point Alan lost interest.

'Criky, is that the time? Better get back Arlo.'

Ok. There was time but never mind. I'll take a rain check.

We walked back to school, our absence unnoticed, probably, as if nothing had happened. There was no conversation but both our heads must have been loaded with new thoughts. I have no doubt Alan enjoyed the encounter too. He seemed reticent to return the favour I had granted him but that was fine by me. I'm left-handed but still handy with my right when the chips are down!

I left Alan in a busy corridor, noisy classrooms either side full of chattering boys awaiting afternoon registration, without a backward look, but our heads storing away a memory of a milestone.

Will I tell Kerry? Yes I will because I want to. I have to be honest with him. He will understand.

At the end of our next session at Phil's studio Kerry was talking to Henry again. I couldn't quite hear what was being said, all of it from Henry by the look of it, with Kerry listening and then at the end, nodding. It looked like some sort of agreement or arrangement. I'll tackle Kerry about it on our way home.

My boy was unusually quiet on our walk home. I thought I'd try a hand hold which was accepted. It's dark now so if he was worried about being seen by anyone holding another boy's hand, he'd be quite safe. His hand felt warm in mine. Kerry knows what it means when I take his hand like that. He knows what is going on in my head, the simple being that I am.

'Another little chat with Henry then?'

'Oh. You noticed.'

'Yes I did. What was that all about then?'

'He knows I want a phone. He said I could have one if I wanted.'

'You mean he wants you to have one just in case?'

'No. Or maybe you're right.'

'It's what he wants. There's a reason Kerry.'

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The Bus Stop

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 14