E K Stokes

Thanks @chris191070, @Gary L, @drsawzall, for your nice comments. You may have noticed the book cover bears the title Eighteen Years, this is because The Cwtch is another of my short stories, but one I had half decided to turn into a longer piece. I guess it's all a question of inspiration and quite often the starting point of my inspiration is a real event, the rest is fiction. In this instance Aled really was eighteen and from Mold, a boy I met in a gay club in Chester, although I'm not Harry and where things go from there is a romantic fiction which will be continued because I like this chapter and the characters as much as you do and we have to see how things work out. So this becomes a character driven story which I'm working on along with finishing my other current stories and I have to say I'm enjoying writing them all. For the moment I'm bubbling over with ideas, the only problem is finding time to write everything.

The booming bass from the speakers didn't just fill the room; it vibrated straight through the floorboards of the Flamingo Rose, Chester’s only real gay venue for a Saturday night out. The club was small, with sparkling coloured lights that bounced off tiny mirrors on the ceiling, and packed to the rafters with a sweaty, joyful crowd. For eighteen-year-old Aled, it felt like stepping onto another planet, it was both nice and alien at the same time. He stood near the edge of the bar, s

Cwtch is a Welsh word, translated into English it means a hug, but the meaning is deeper and more profound than a simple hug. When you give someone a cwtch you also give them a safe place and this is what twenty something Londoner Harry gives Welsh farmboy Aled. The story tells how two souls find each other, and recognise one another immediately. It is attraction, but also love at first sight, although true love is never easy. This story is also published under the title Eighteen Years by E K Stokes.

The heavy oak door of the detached house clicked shut with a finality that seemed to invade the quiet, tree-lined street. For a moment, Leo stood on the driveway, squinting against the sudden, aggressive brightness of the early afternoon. The world looked exactly the same—the neighbourhood hadn't changed, a distant lawnmower was still humming—but to Leo, the landscape felt like a stage set that had lost its meaning. As he swung his leg over his Raleigh, sitting on the saddle gave a reminder

You can unpublish the original story and publish the revised version as a new story - Add Story The consequences of doing this: you lose all old comments, but they are irrelevant anyway, you lose any chance of becoming a promoted author, promising author, or any other author status. That's my best understanding of things, so I would think long and hard about what to do and maybe speak to a gayauthors site person for official advice - don't do anything you might regret later, The site has very strict policies!

Ryan is nineteen, a student, shares a flat in London with his ex-school mates who know he's gay, but still think he might not be. He is going to meet someone he found on a dating app, a first!

The light of Ryan’s phone reflected his image which was, by all accounts, infuriatingly youthful. At nineteen, with a round face, a scattering of freckles, and a clean-shaven jaw that had never known the struggle of thick stubble, he looked more like a sixth-former bunking off class than a Londoner trying to navigate the city's dating scene. He shifted on the edge of his mattress, his slim, gym-toned frame tense. From the other side of the flat's thin walls, the muffled sounds of his two ex

The internal fire that had warmed Leo by the lake didn't stay there; it followed him home, the glowing embers buried yet ready to burst into flames. The heat permeated his body like a fever. It was a single loop—a constant mental replay of sunlight, skin, and the magnetic pull of the brothers. He found himself wondering if Kenny felt that same static charge in his blood, or if Sam’s bravado wasn't only a mask for a similar obsession. The grand opening of the summer holidays didn't arrive wi

So whisperly poetic... And more... Which include a trip to the dark side...

The week had passed in a fever dream of well known monotony. To everyone around him Leo was just another unremarkable, ordinary boy on a Raleigh, but to himself, he felt like an undercover agent returning to a secret location. The nineteen-fifties semi-detached house in the suburban street next to Hadley Woods no longer looked like all the other similar properties; it looked like a gateway, an entrance, a special place. Leo propped the bike against the low garden wall, his palms damp agains

@peter rietbergen, @Lutheros, @chris191070, @drsawzall Firstly, my apologies, the first publication was a draft version published by mistake, I've corrected the error. It was a repeated small section that got mixed up in the editing. I'm finding this site difficult to read on as the stories are plastered with ads everywhere, breaking into the text and making a real mess, with weird highlighted Google links on story phrases. As to your comments and the story itself, one by one, in order: You should, it's based on a real event. Indeed, it's really chapter one, but the progression is meeting Thomas, "Usually, our friend Thomas is here," Sam continued... Yes he did, the story is an exploration of burgeoning adolescent sexuality. I can't know other people's experiences, but speaking for myself, growing up there were many sexual things which happened and I can't believe I am different from everybody else. Maybe you had a quieter neighbourhood, maybe you had less freedom, or you simply didn't encounter the same kinds of adventures? And yes, to reiterate it could be expand, I have a draft of chapter two, but it's an adventure with Thomas and Thomas is the oldest. As I said the event here is based on a real event. I hesitate with the continuation due to the ages of the characters, Kenny is 11, Sam 12, Leo 13, and the girls are 14. Similar age group for this site rules, but Thomas is 16 and that might pose a problem to continue here, I don't know, I prefer to be cautious, I've already skirted controversy and have no wish to go there again, even if it's not entirely fiction. Thank you for your comments and encouragement.

Kismet is a transgressive coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of a stifling North London summer. It explores the fragile boundary between childhood innocence and the electric, often terrifying, awakening of adolescent desire.

The tires of Leo’s Raleigh gripped the dark asphalt as he pedaled furiously towards the last street of semi-detached suburban houses before the deep green wood, the countryside at the edge of the city. At thirteen, the woods were his sanctuary—a place where he could leave behind the routine and escape on an adventure. He skidded to a halt, the path into the wood was two hundred metres away, the oasis of English oak and a mixed variety of other trees whose names he didn't know. He could already s

Hunter is right, any sane, intelligent review of the war on drugs would arrive at the same conclusion, it's a lost battle. It has been for years. That Hunter' s father believes he is doing God's work, that sounds as American as prayers before meals. There appears to be a growing divide between father and son as Hunter lives through some dramatic events and is growing up fast. I think Ferney's death must have effected deeply everyone in that group of friends, and have touched Hunter perhaps more profoundly than he realises. It's a tragedy that will stay with him until the day he dies. A very good, very real, chapter.

@andy cannon summed it up... Thank you for your comments.

On a rain-slicked stretch of highway between the city and the outskirts, a pair of headlights cut through the gloom. Caleb, driving Sarah’s old station wagon with a manic intensity, saw a figure standing in the middle of the road, waving a tire iron. He slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt and flung the door open. It was Leo. "Caleb!" Leo screamed, his face a mask of mud and sweat. Caleb tumbled out of the car, his heart nearly stopping. "Leo! I saw... the raven... the chapel

The morning was deceptively ordinary. The rain had ceased, leaving behind a sky the colour of a bruised plum, and the rhythmic thump-hiss of the laundromat below provided a steady, domestic heartbeat. In the small bedroom, Caleb was still asleep, his face relaxed for the first time in months, his breathing synchronised with the quiet hum of the city. Leo slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. He felt a lingering warmth in his chest, a fragile hope that their intimacy from the night be

They cannot return to the other side by themselves, they have no power. But, a demon who was sufficiently strong and could channel energy from a rebuilt Citadel, might be able to take them with him. It's not impossible, but it would be much easier to destroy them in the human world.

And Europe (In France, the wealthiest 10% of households own approximately 54% of the total assets. Additionally, half of the households hold about 95% of the total wealth), plus whilst we're talking stats, in France unemployment is 7.7% and amongst under 25's 18.1%. Kind of similar to Columbia, but with the big difference that here there is social security, meaning you get benefit pay outs and help from the state, but that doesn't mean there isn't poverty.

Now the princes have returned to the human world they have lost all their demonic powers and cannot return to that other plane, the portal closed behind them forever. But, entities can as they always have, still pass into the realm of humans. They might destroy and harvest human souls although that is much easier to achieve in the Citadel. They could still bring a human back with them if the entities were powerful enough, because they would need the force to traverse a portal themselves and more to bring someone. It perhaps depends if the person is willing? Also, do not forget, the Citadel has been destroyed, only it is not obliterated, one might say, damaged.

The days in the Citadel dissolved into a seamless blur of sensory overload and cold, hard discipline. Under Leo’s tutelage, Caleb learned that the Aethel did not tolerate weakness. Every meal was a lesson in refinement; every night was a masterclass in service. His body changed rapidly. The soft edges of his youth sharpened. His skin took on that same translucent, marble-like glow that Leo possessed, and his eyes began to hold a permanent flicker of gold. He was being hollowed out and fille

It is not reasonable to ask too much of a sixteen year old, too stay safe, be honest, try to be a good person; that should be all the stuff his parents taught him, but they probably didn't, so he's having to learn for himself. You can't easily expect a long lasting relationship, although it could happen. That people get hurt, emotionally, that happens as we grow up, who could honestly say they've never hurt anyone? If you can you are a better person than me.

Readers are quite rightly a little shocked at developments. I cannot make any comment because I risk spoiling the drama which is unfolding.

Years had passed in the human realm, though in the Aethel, time was merely a suggestion, a tide that ebbed and flowed at the High Lord’s whim. Leo, the Prince of the Abyss, stood on a lonely stretch of highway outside a dying industrial town. The air here was thin, tasting of rust and stagnant rain—a far cry from the rich, spiced atmosphere of his palace. He was no longer the boy who had been hunted. He was the hunter. A few yards away, slumped against a rusted guardrail, was a young m

@akascrubber perfect summary and @drsawzall very true.