Brighton Rock - 1. Brighton Rock

‘How come I always end up in bed with skinny vegans with dreadlocks?’ Kevin complains, putting an arm around Jeff’s shoulders. ‘Don’t get me wrong. Generally speaking, they’re a good time—up for anything, those boys are—but they always get so upset the next day when they discover I like bacon . . .’

Jeff laughs, shaking his head.

‘I tell them, I say they should’ve figured I like me a good piece of ham and a nice big sausage,’ Kevin continues.

‘Oh, groan!’ says Jeff. ‘Seriously, worst pun ever.’

‘Bit much?’

‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’

‘Nope, totally shameless!’ says Kevin proudly, squeezing his best friend’s shoulder.

They’re walking down Brighton Pier. It’s a warm Wednesday evening in June. The beach is still full of people, swimming and sunbathing in the warm rays of the setting sun, and the pier is busy with families, couples, and kids screaming for ice cream or wanting to go on rides they’re too little for. Jeff has just turned eighteen, and in less than three months he’ll be off to uni.

‘So, you wanna do something this weekend?’ asks Jeff.

‘Sure,’ says Kevin. ‘There’s this new club I’ve been wanting to go to.’

‘Yeah, maybe not, eh?’ says Jeff uncomfortably, looking away.

‘Oh, come on!’ Kevin pouts. ‘You need to get out there, meet people! How do you ever expect to find someone if you don’t get out of the house every once in a while?’

Jeff shrugs. ‘Don’t really fancy it,’ he says airily.

He can feel Kevin’s eyes on him and he looks up to find his friend looking at him with a curious expression on his face. ‘Well, I’m definitely going out Saturday,’ he says. ‘But Friday I’m free as a bird, so . . . Back to the Future marathon?’

Jeff grins. ‘Thought you’d never ask!’

‘I’ll bring the booze,’ says Kevin with a wink. Then he glances at his watch. ‘Damn, I should go . . . I’m up early tomorrow. Speak to you later!’ He hugs Jeff and Jeff takes a moment to breathe him in, while he can. Then Kevin saunters off with a smile and a wave, and Jeff is left alone on the pier.

He wanders about aimlessly for a good while, just thinking.

Kevin and Jeff have been best friends longer than either of them can remember. Kev was only fifteen when he came out to his family and friends, and everyone seemed fine with it. This came as no big surprise. You can’t really live in Kemp Town and be a homophobe, or if you do you’ll be deeply unhappy. By rights, it should be called Camp Town, as one can hardly take two steps without being faced with a Pride flag or a gay bar. Kevin announced one day that he liked blokes, and that was the end of that. He then went on to shag every Tom, Dick and Harry who would have him, which was also fine.

So it’s not out of fear of not being accepted that Jeff has kept his sexual orientation to himself. He has no doubt his mother and all his friends would be supportive. He’s certain that everyone would love him just the same and nothing would change in that regard.

No, the reason why he has yet to come out is Kevin.

It took Jeff a lot longer than his friend to realise that he even was gay. For the longest time, he didn’t really feel anything for anyone, male or female. He had begun to suspect that he was asexual by the time he reached college. But then, he began to notice an uncomfortable feeling in his gut whenever Kevin would mention one of his conquests. He began to look at Kevin more, to pay attention to the way he moved; majestic, predatory, like a lion. He began to notice his long, dark lashes, the way his hair fell in front of his eyes sometimes, the curve of his lips, the straight line of his nose. The way his tight t-shirts and tank tops clung obscenely to his body, stretching across his chest, showing off the contours of his nipples and his abdominal muscles, and it made Jeff blush.

His suspicions were confirmed when he woke up one morning after staying over at Kev’s house, to find his friend fast asleep with his body tight against Jeff’s back and his hand on Jeff’s hip and his hard-on pressing firmly against Jeff’s buttocks, and Jeff knew that there was nothing he wanted more in the universe then to have Kevin do those things while he was awake.

It’s not easy being in love with your best friend. Especially not when said best friend is tall, lean and handsome and prefers skinny, dreadlocked boys who usually turn out to be vegan. Not when your name is Jeff and you’re 170cm and weigh 85 kilos. Short, chubby and ginger is most definitely not Kevin’s type.

It’s gone nine by the time Jeff gets home.

‘Hi, mum,’ he calls as he steps in through the door, tossing his keys in the bowl in front of the mirror.

‘Hi, sweetheart!’ his mother calls from the living room. She’s watching telly. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘No, I got a bite to eat with Kev,’ Jeff replies. ‘Think I’m just gonna go to my room.’

‘Do you have work tomorrow?’ his mother asks.

‘Yeah, so I should get some sleep.’

‘All right. Good night!’

Upon entering his room, Jeff notices that he forgot to close his laptop before he left this morning. Facebook is open. He has disappointingly few notifications, but a chat window is blinking red at the bottom of the screen. He clicks it.

Kevin Jackson: hey

The message was sent twenty minutes ago, but Kevin’s still online, so Jeff replies.

Jeffrey Bennett: hi. how’s you?

He waits for a few moments, before the window lights up again.

Kevin Jackson: erm… you kind of caught me at an odd moment.

Jeffrey Bennett: Oh?

Kevin Jackson: indeed.

Jeffrey Bennett: How so?

Kevin Jackson: well… I’m kind of getting myself off right now.

Jeff blushes to the tips of his ears. Is he actually reading this? He shakes his head to clear it, but all he can see is Kevin, sitting in front of his computer with his dick in his hand. He blinks a couple of times, before realising that he should make some sort of reply.

Jeffrey Bennett: Well, why did you answer, then, you numpty?

Kevin Jackson: I dunno… I messaged you first, figured it was polite.

Jeffrey Bennett: Lol! You have a strange definition of polite…

Kevin Jackson: whatever.

Jeff stares at the screen for a few moments. There’s something strangely arousing about knowing that Kevin’s getting off while talking to him, and he feels himself getting hard. He gets up, steps over to the door to make sure it’s locked. Then he sits back down before his computer and starts palming himself through his trousers.

Jeffrey Bennett: Do you do this often, then? Talk to people on Facebook while masturbating?

Kevin Jackson: not generally, no.

Jeffrey Bennett: Wow, I feel special, then. :—P

Kevin Jackson: of course you’re special. you’re Jeff.

The words on the screen send a jolt to his groin and Jeff bites his lip. Unzipping his jeans, he pulls his cock out of his pants and starts to stroke it. Typing with his left hand is slow, as is focusing on spelling while beating off, but he manages to type out the next message anyway.

Jeffrey Bennett: So, what if I were to start getting myself off now, too?

Kevin Jackson: lol come at me bro

Jeff isn’t sure what to make of that, but he’s too far gone to care. Spending an afternoon in Kev’s company always leaves him frustrated. He was more ready for this than he thought.

Jeffrey Bennett: Doing it now, getting my dick out!

Kevin Jackson: haha! well, I’m glad I can provide inspiration.

Jeffrey Bennett: Well, it’s been a long day. A good wank is good for the soul.

Kevin Jackson: amen, brother! testify!

Kevin Jackson: getting pretty close now, actually

So is Jeff. His breathing is growing laboured and he’s moving his hand faster, thinking of Kevin. Kevin’s brown eyes, his long legs, his gorgeous arse . . . Kevin, sitting the way Jeff is sitting right now, fist pumping his dick, close now, about to come.

And then Jeff does come, biting his lip hard to keep from crying out. He takes a shuddering breath. When the euphoria of his orgasm has died down, he feels more miserable than he ever has before in his life. This is something that he and Kevin will never truly share.

Jeffrey Bennett: Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’m knackered. Gonna read in bed for a bit. Night.

He shuts the lid of his laptop. He’s stopped trying to hold back the tears.

* * *

Jeff has the same summer job as last year, in the shop at the Sea Life Centre. The tedium of selling plush turtles to screaming kids is broken only by the days when his break coincides with the feeding of either the sharks, the turtles or the rays. Some evenings, Kevin meets up with him after he’s finished and they grab a bite to eat down at the pier.

Kevin works, too. He has two part time jobs. One is selling ice cream at the pier. The other is serving drinks at one of Kemp Town’s numerous gay bars. He could quit the ice cream gig on the tips he makes by simply being eighteen and gorgeous and making decent Cosmopolitans, but he keeps it anyway, insisting that he enjoys the people-watching. When Jeff points out that Kevin could just people-watch on his own time instead, Kevin says, ‘Yes, but people are less guarded around serving staff. They just carry on their conversations and don’t pay you any mind. It’s like being a fly on the wall, or furniture.’

Jeff has never been able to understand how Kevin can be so interested in the affairs of others. Jeff himself finds other people utterly uninteresting and frequently annoying. It’s part of the reason why he doesn’t want to go out on the weekends. The other part is his own appearance. The idea of spending a whole evening in a room full of beautiful people who are infinitely more fashionable and outgoing than himself is terrifying in the extreme. Jeff would much rather be at home, reading or watching movies.

Thursday comes and goes. Jeff goes home for dinner with his mum and spends the evening in his room. Kevin works at the bar tonight. Then comes Friday. Jeff’s work day passes far too slowly. When it’s finally over, he fairly runs home. He tidies up in his room a bit and sticks a large frozen pizza in the oven. It’s done exactly a minute after Kevin arrives, on the dot as usual.

Jeff bought the large television set and PS3 in his bedroom with the money he made working at Sea Life last summer. It’s come in handy for his and Kevin’s movie nights, though these have not been as frequent since Kevin turned eighteen and began spending every night he could clubbing.

Kevin has brought some beers and a large bottle of vodka, and they sit on Jeff’s bed eating pizza and doing a quote-along for the first movie (‘You’re my density!’). Drink if you miss a line, drink twice every time Doc Brown says, ‘Great scott!’ The more they drink, the more lines they miss. And at ‘Get your damn hands off her!’ it’s bottoms up, as is custom. The mandatory sing-along to Johnny B. Goode is interrupted by a fit of giggles worthy of a pair of fourteen-year-old girls.

For the second film, Kevin snuggles up to Jeff and starts picking absentmindedly at his checkered shirt.

‘What are you up to?’ asks Jeff, taking a sip of his beer.

‘Bored,’ says Kevin.

‘Don’t you want to watch the movie?’

Kevin is silent for a moment, and Jeff wonders if perhaps he’s fallen asleep, so he turns to look at him. Kevin is looking up at him with sleepy eyes and dilated pupils. ‘No,’ he says at last, ‘I do. I just . . . Kinda drunk. And horny.’

‘Oh.’ Jeff looks away, not sure what to say. He feels his face flush. ‘If . . . Er, if you’d like to just go out and find someone to—’

‘No,’ Kevin slurs. ‘I’m comfy here . . .’

‘Okay.’

Jeff turns his attention to the movie again, not at all certain what he’s supposed to think. On screen, Marty McFly’s son is about to get pummelled. Kevin snuggles closer, raising himself up a little and putting his chin on Jeff’s shoulder. Jeff swallows. The proximity is causing his heart to pump double time, and he’s positive that Kevin can tell from his pulsing jugular.

He almost jumps out of his skin when Kevin stretches his neck and places his lips on said vein, leaving light kisses. Jeff’s breathing grows fast and shallow. ‘Wha—’ He swallows. Tries again. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you think?’ Kevin’s breath is hot on Jeff’s skin. He resumes the kisses.

Jeff’s head is spinning. Kevin’s drunk, but so is Jeff, and though his rational mind is telling him that this should not be happening, that this is his best friend who in no way fancies him, he can’t bring himself to ask him to stop. His lips feel too good on his skin.

‘Are . . . are you coming on to me?’ asks Jeff weakly.

‘Maybe,’ Kevin whispers. ‘Does it bother you?’

Jeff swallows again. Clears his throat. ‘No . . .’

Kevin shifts closer, to give himself access to more of Jeff’s neck, biting with his teeth now, and Jeff whimpers as Kev’s right hand comes to land on his thigh, mere centimetres from Jeff’s rapidly hardening prick. Then he moves his hand, brushing Jeff through the fabric of his jeans, and Jeff gasps.

‘Wow, excited aren’t you?’ Kevin whispers in his ear. ‘Bless!’ He strokes him through his jeans, and Jeff utters another whimper.

‘Please,’ Jeff gasps. ‘Wait, just . . .’

‘Don’t try and pretend you don’t want it. Your cock tells a different story.’

And Jeff does want it. He wants it so desperately it hurts. He’s never wanted anything—anyone—more.

‘Just, please, just hang on a moment!’

Kevin pulls away and looks at him. ‘I’ll make it good,’ he promises. ‘I can make you feel so good, Jeff. You’ll see.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Jeff asks, desperately. ‘Is it just cause you’re bored? Because, to be honest, I don’t think I can . . .’ He trails off. How does he say this without revealing his feelings? ‘I mean . . . You don’t fancy me.’

Kevin lets go, sitting up properly, and looks at him, head tipped slightly to one side. ‘What makes you say that?’

Jeff utters a humourless laugh. ‘Well, I’m not exactly your type, am I?’ he says. ‘I mean, come off it, Kev. You like pretty hipsters and skinny boys with dreadlocks and lean and attractive older men who work out. You don’t . . . you don’t like me.’

‘You don’t like me, you mean,’ says Kevin, and for a moment Jeff thinks he actually looks hurt.

Before he can stop himself, he exclaims, ‘What? Of course I do!’ Then he blinks, turns his face away, blushes. ‘I . . . I mean . . .’

‘Look, I know you don’t like boys. You don’t really like anyone in that way. I just thought, maybe you could like me a little bit . . . if I could show you a good time.’

Jeff looks at Kevin again, incredulous. What’s he saying? What does he mean?

‘Hang on . . . Are you saying you . . . like me?’ he asks slowly. ‘Like, you’re into me?’

‘Course I am!’ says Kevin. ‘That so hard to believe?’

‘Er, yeah!’ says Jeff. ‘For one, you are so totally out of my league it’s not even funny.’ He sighs, rubbing his eyes. ‘Look, I don’t want charity, okay? I know what I am, I know how I look. I know what you like and it’s not me, so . . .’

Kevin studies his face. He suddenly seems a lot less drunk. ‘So . . . when you said you liked me before . . .’

‘Forget it,’ says Jeff, looking away again. ‘I just meant . . . You’re my friend, is all.’

‘Is it?’ Kevin reaches out a hand and touches Jeff’s cheek lightly. ‘You don’t . . . feel more for me?’

Jeff lets his eyes meet Kevin’s, fully intending to deny that he feels anything at all, but when he at last finds his voice he instead hears himself whisper, ‘Yes . . .’

‘Well, then,’ says Kevin softly. ‘What, exactly, is your objection?’

Jeff sighs. ‘I don’t believe you feel the same way about me,’ he mumbles.

‘Then let me show you how I feel,’ says Kevin.

‘You don’t understand—’ Jeff protests, but Kevin puts a finger to his lips to shush him.

And then, without being completely able to say how it happened, Jeff’s pants are full of Kevin’s hand and any protests he might have had are forgotten. And soon thereafter, Kevin is crouching between his legs and his lips are wrapped tightly around him, his tongue doing things Jeff is unable to in any way describe. Kevin takes him in to the hilt and Jeff has time to think that that shouldn’t be possible, before he loses all ability to process rational thought. He throws his head back and releases a loud moan, never considering the fact that his mother is in the flat and might be able to hear him. He tries to hold back, but he can’t, and he doesn’t even want to, and now he’s fucking Kevin’s face with abandon, and when he comes it’s sudden and without warning and Kevin drinks him down, drop for drop.

Now Kevin is in his lap, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his pants down, and Jeff tries to reach for him, but Kevin stops him, leading Jeff’s hands instead to grasp his hips as he leans in close and whispers, ‘Kiss me.’

Jeff does, tasting beer and vodka and himself, and Kevin is sitting astride his hips, getting himself off while moaning into Jeff’s mouth, and if Jeff hadn’t just ejaculated he would do so again now at the mere realisation of what’s happening.

When Kevin comes with a groan, gritting his teeth and leaning his forehead against Jeff’s, Jeff’s hands move of their own accord. One slips around Kevin’s waist, pulling him closer to him, while the other moves up, up, into Kevin’s dark hair. ‘I love you,’ Jeff whispers and places a chaste kiss on Kevin’s lips. ‘I love you . . .’

* * *

When Jeff wakes up, his head feels heavy and his eyes don’t seem to want to open. There’s music coming from the telly—the blu-ray menu stuck on repeat. He wonders briefly what the soft thing in his arms is, and then his eyes snap open.

Kevin is lying next to him, on his stomach, mostly naked and snoring lightly. Jeff is lying half way on top of him, with his arm around his middle. He blinks a few times, last night’s events rushing back to him. He looks at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It’s two in the afternoon. Then he begins to worry that he’s crushing Kevin and he shifts, pulling back against the wall. He has a frightful need to piss, but now Kevin is stirring and he freezes, staring at him.

Kevin turns his head towards him and blinks, bleary-eyed, his cheek adorned with an imprint of the creases in the bedsheet. His hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles. He has never looked more gorgeous. And then he smiles, and Jeff forgets everything else. All he wants is to see that smile for the rest of his life.

‘Morning,’ Kevin murmurs.

Jeff swallows. ‘Morning.’

‘You okay?’

Jeff considers for a moment. ‘Head hurts. Need to piss. Feel slightly sick. Other than that, can’t complain.’

He still has his arm around Kevin’s middle. His bedmate makes no attempt to move away from him. Instead he props himself up on his elbows. It causes his shoulder blades to stick up attractively and his back to curve. He yawns. Then he smiles.

Kevin turns his head to the telly. Reaches for the remote and turns it off. ‘I must have slept like the dead,’ he says. Jeff nods. ‘So,’ says Kevin, looking at him again.

‘So . . .’

‘Did you mean it?’

‘Mean what?’ Jeff frowns, looking at his friend. Then comprehension dawns on him, and he blushes, looking away. ‘Oh. That.’

‘You said it quite a lot,’ says Kevin. ‘Twice the first time . . . And then the second time . . . So, did you mean it or were you just . . . thinking about someone else?’

Now Jeff laughs, despite himself. ‘Who the fuck could I possibly be thinking about besides you?’ The idea is so ludicrous to him that he can’t help but release another burst of laughter. Kevin is the only person in the world. He always has been. When his laughter has died down, however, Jeff falls back down to Earth very quickly, and he sighs, closing his eyes. ‘Yeah, I meant it,’ he says grimly. ‘I’ve always . . . I meant it.’

‘Well, then,’ says Kevin. ‘That certainly changes things.’

‘Does it have to be over?’ Jeff pleads, opening his eyes again. ‘Can’t things just go back to how they used to be?’

Kevin shakes his head, smiling still. ‘I don’t think so,’ he says. ‘I don’t think things can ever go back to the way they used to be.’

Jeff tries very hard not to cry, but it is a failed effort, and tears begin to fall from his eyes. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, shutting his hazel eyes against Kevin’s kind, brown ones. He feels Kevin shift next to him, expects him to get out of bed, to get dressed and leave him and never come back, but instead he feels a palm press against his cheek, and then a pair of soft, warm lips graze his forehead, lightly. Jeff’s eyes fly open as Kevin’s lips meet his own, hot and insisting, and he melts against him.

Then the lips are gone, and Kevin is getting out of bed.

‘Where are you going?’ asks Jeff weakly.

‘I’m going to get dressed, take a piss, and head down to Sainsbury’s for some hangover food—preferably bacon,’ says Kevin. ‘Then I’m coming back here, and we’ll eat the food and maybe take a shower.’ Kevin smiles.

‘Aren’t you going clubbing tonight?’ asks Jeff.

Kevin shrugs. ‘We missed most of number two and didn’t even get to number three.’ He grins. ‘I think we have a Back to the Future marathon to finish.’ He pulls on his clothes and then returns to the bed, placing another kiss on Jeff’s forehead. ‘I’ll be back in a bit,’ he says, and then he leaves.

Jeff lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Kevin is right. Everything’s changed. Things will never go back to the way they were before.

Jeff’s all right with that.

END