Direct Confusion - 4. Chapter 4

Saturday I park my old Dodge in the Parker’s driveway, next to their shared decrepit looking Ford pick-up and knock on the door. It is opened by a blond, smiling woman of about my mother’s age, dressed in a flour dusted apron and holding a giant recipe book in her hand.

“It says here you need the meat completely dry, or it won’t brown,” I arch one puzzled eyebrow as she waves me in without really looking at me, “Do we have any bay leaves?”

“Yes,” An exasperated male voice is the precursor to Erin’s appearance from what I can only assume is the kitchen. He’s wearing a striped butcher’s apron and holding a selection of carrots and onions, “Ma, they’re in the jar on the spice rack. Where they always are.”

“I thought your father threw them away when we moved?”

“He did,” Is Erin’s rather snarky reply, “Hey Luke, welcome.”

At last Mrs Parker looks at me, and smiles warmly, “Sorry dear, I get all scattered brain when I cook,” I can see Erin smirking. “You must be Luke McBride. We’ve heard so much about you. Do come in, Erie’s helping me make beef stew.”

“Boeuf bourguignon,” Erin rolls his eyes, “I’m teaching her, Julia Child is helping.”

“You cook?” I follow them both into the kitchen, where it looks like a bomb made of ingredients has gone off. A lot of the stuff I don’t even recognise.

“Sure.” Erin dumps the carrots, hands the jar of bay leaves to his mother and then begins to chop an onion into translucently thin slices. “Someone is this house has to cook, and Jameson has about as much sense when it comes to food as I do about higher level calculus.” He shrugs in a sort of self-depreciating manner which makes him seem sort of adorable, “I’ll be done in a little bit. I think Jameson’s in his room. Go on up.”

“Take these with you,” Mrs Parker hands me a plate of assorted sweet biscuity things, “Nice to meet you Luke.”

The parker family home isn’t very different from my own, and I wander up the stairs, looking at the framed photos on the walls. There are no studio shots, these are all images taken for fun; the family outside what must have been their old house, a tweenage Erin in an apron holding out a giant birthday cake for his twin, both the brothers in little league baseball gear, their mother and the man who must be their father holding hands in front of a Christmas tree. It’s all very normal and pleasant. I follow the stairs to the landing, and find Jameson’s room by virtue of the poster on the door. I thought his name sounded familiar.

“Did your parent’s deliberately name you after liquor or what?”

“Hey Luke!” Jameson drops his head phones on the desk and crosses the room to meet me, taking the plate of cookies with a grin, “Is Erin teaching mum to cook again?”

“Seems that way.” I un-sling my bag from my back and flinch as Jameson rubs my shoulder, “Look Jameson, I’d like to be your friend but it’s gonna be really difficult if you keep on giving me mixed signals all the time.”

“Ah crap.” Jameson falls back on his bed, picking at his cuticles, “I’m doing it again aren’t I? You know, I blame Erin for this.”

“Huh?”

“Well how easy do think it is to develop an appropriate idea of human contact when you grow up with a gay twin?” Jameson talks like it’s nothing, but I can feel my jaw slamming into the proverbial floor.

“What?”

Jameson frowns at me.

“And this is what I meant about not interrupting people with your tongue. If you’d let me finish my sentence the other day I would have told you not to cut your hair because my brother really likes it.”

“Erin is gay?”

“No, he just fancies you rotten!” Jameson punches my arm, and for a skinny guy, he’s got some power there, “And they say straight guys are blind to the obvious. You really couldn’t tell?”

“Um…” I can’t tell him I was too busy trying to imagine him naked to notice much about his brother. “But, in the shower…”

“I looked? Well yeah, Erie would go mad if he found out I had the opportunity to look but didn’t report back to him. Sheesh.”

“Oh…” There isn’t an end to that sentence, because my brain is busy turning in circles, spelling out the litany of “Erin Parker fancies you, Erin Parker fancies you, Erin Parker fancies you…”

“And in payment for this information,” Jameson holds up his history workbook and the text book, which he has opened at the wrong chapter, “You will now help me make heads or tails of this.”

I take the books from him, and we eschew the desk in favour of spreading everything we need out over the floor. I grab the laptop from my bag and start to read him key bits of text while he makes notes. At the end of an hour, when Erin finally makes an appearance at the top of the stairs, Jameson is staring at me in wonder.

“So the only reason there’s Catholic Christian’s and Protestant Christians is because Henry the eighth didn’t fancy his wife?” He looks back at his notes, “And she wouldn’t bear him a male heir?”

“Pretty much,” I sit back, leaning on my elbows and smile, “Of course, it was probably him who was largely infertile, but we’ll never know.”

“He’s responsible for the deaths of thousands of people!” Jameson seems incredibly shocked by this revelation.

“Yeah, but he also is responsible for the fact that people can actually get divorced now,” Erin is smiling slightly, and there is flour on the side of his face. I am seized with the sudden desire to touch his skin, “And since he became head of his own church, you could argue it was the beginning of the separation of church and state.”

“Now there’s something I’m grateful for.” I am watching Erin watching the shape of my lips, and wondering how I did not see it before, “education governed by religion is a fancy word for indoctrination.” Erin nods, “See if you knew all this stuff why d’you need my help?”

Erin blushes hard.

“Stay for dinner?” Jameson says quickly, crushing the pregnant pause that threatened to overwhelm us, “You’re gonna have to proof read this anyway so I don’t get all my dates screwed up.”

“Sure. I’ll stay,” I look at Erin when I speak, “Smells way too good to miss.”

Erin joins us for a bit, writing part of his paper, then vanishes to go and check on the rising smells of meat and spices, wine and other delicious things. As soon as he goes, Jameson grins at me and stops writing.

“So?”

“Huh?” Realisation dawns at the excitement in his eyes, “You are trying to set me up with your brother?”

Jameson nods vigorously, and I push at his shoulder.

“Get back to your studies bud.”

*

Dinner is delicious. I sit next to Jameson and Erin together with his mother serves us a glistening stew of beef and carrots with a rich dark gravy, little potatoes shaped like olives that have been seared to make them crisp and crunchy, and a selection of green vegetables, all of them sweet and tender. Mr Parker, who looks exactly like you’d expect: slightly thinning hair, an easy smile and an argyle jumper, is polite and pleasant and enthusiastic about his son’s cooking.

“This is really excellent Erie. Sterling work.”

“Mum did most of it…” Erin mumbles, but he looks secretly pleased.

“Oh nonsense.” Mrs Parker waves away the compliment, “You don’t need to pretend in front of your friend that I can cook.”

“Mum’s an awful cook,” Jameson says softly, “Weekdays we get take out, pizza and things frozen and thrown in the oven. On weekend, Erin cooks and we get to eat actual food!”

I spear and piece of meat and chew it gently; it practically melts away on my tongue, a tang of salt, the rich wine and spices. It’s like eating in a fancy restaurant from television.

“It’s really good Erin.”

He blushes towards his plate, a touch of pink just enough to colour his cheeks, spreading down his neck. My dick chooses about that time to wake up and take notice of the reaction. He flashes me the tiniest smile when he looks up, and I realise I’ve already found my jerk-off material for tonight. Now it’s my turn to blush.

Afterwards I jump up to help clear the plates, which earns me praise from both Parker parents, and Jameson dismisses himself to go and finish off his essay. I follow Erin into the kitchen where he is starting to fill the dishwasher. The kitchen at my house looks like a bombsite after anyone has cooked in it, but the Parker’s beautifully laid out kitchen is surprisingly clean. I place the last of the glasses on the surface by the sink, and find myself standing behind Erin. He’s taller than me, but maybe only by an inch, and as he straightens up, I step forwards half a pace until i can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Luke?” His voice is whisper soft and shy.

“Hmm?” I desperately want to reach out and touch him, but I settle for placing one hand on the surface beside him. He turns in the half cage of my body and brings us face to face. His lips are mere inches away.

“I want…”

“Yes?” I know I’m being mean to him, but the pink blush is back and I love the little bit of hopeful fear is his eyes. I place my other hand on the surface, brushing past his hip. He flinches, bringing our chests together with a little thud.

“Oh…” His blue eyes brighten with the realisation I’m as into him as he is to me, and the blush intensified even as he get braver. A hand touches my shoulder, I tilt my head to one side, smiling, and we kiss.

He tastes faintly of red wine and pepper and his lips are illegally soft and tempting. The kiss is gentle, slightly exploratory, but like a furnace in the near distance. I can feel the heat that could easily build between us. I could push forwards, pin him against the worktop and open him up with my tongue. His imagined groan in my head makes my cock fully thicken out in my jeans. But we are in his parent’s kitchen, alone but not guaranteed solitude. I’d be a complete dick to take advantage. It feels like too soon to step away, but I do anyway.

Erin is panting, his eyes wide and bright.

“Thanks for dinner.” I hook my thumbs into my pockets and quietly adjust my hard on. He notices. “Heh… sorry.”

He looks like he wants to ask something really personal, but he holds himself back.

“I’d better go,” I shrug, I really don’t want to leave, but if I stay, I’ll ravage him in minutes, “See you at school yeah?”

“Luke!” He looks suddenly desperate, and it’s enough to pin me to the spot. “I really like you,” He’s blushing again, “But…”

“But let’s get to know each other a bit better yeah?” It’s the reassurance he’s looking for and the tension eases across his shoulders.

I shout my goodbyes up the stairs to Jameson, who hollers back he’ll email me his finished essay, just in case it’s crap. It won’t be, the boy is bright, if not great at analysing historical sources. Erin waits at the front door for me, and I am so tempted to kiss him again. I settle for running my fingers across his palm.

“Thanks for the great kiss.” I say softly.

“You too,” Just the memory makes him blush, it’s adorable, “Luke?”

“Yeah?” I’m half way out the door, back over my shoulder.

“Can you, could you not tell anyone? I’m not out yet.”

I nod mutely, but as the door closes, I start to wonder how I managed to get myself into this mess again.