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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Stronger Than Lions - 30. Conversations

Sunday night, 22h38

Now that I think of it...’

‘What, bru?’ Chris was lying on his side, reclining, head in propped on his hand.

‘Don’t laugh, but…’ I shifted on the bed, feeling myself blush.

‘Spit it out, man.’

‘It’s kind of hot, thinking of you and a girl. Just not Tricia.’

Chris raised an eyebrow and his eyes glinted.

‘Just watching us, or part of the action?’

‘Maybe both? Oh god.’ I dived under my pillow. I heard him chuckle.

We were dissecting The Great Bisexual Saturday Adventure after a long afternoon of sweaty, sticky tomfoolery interspersed with napping and gaming and double cheeseburgers to evict our hangovers. At one point we had to shower and come down and pretend to be innocent because my father was finally home after another weekend callout, and had brought pizza.

‘Seriously bru?’ He drummed his fingers on my back. Either sounds hot and If I’m being honest I was getting turned on by the thought of you… you and Veronica.’

I turned around and clutched my pilllow. ’Fuck. Is this what we are, just a bunch of hormones?’

‘You’re cute. Remember I said if you wanted to be with a girl, I’d be okay with it. Just let’s discuss it next time…maybe when we’re both a bit, I dunno, older.’

‘I don’t think there will be a next time,’ I said quickly.

‘Well, at least not without my consent, bru.’

A shadow circled over us: a moth was doing a whirligig around my bedside lamp. ‘This moth has seen things tonight,’ Chris said with a smile. ‘From the way it’s flying it’s either traumatised, or is one of those voyeur creeps wanting more.’

I shook my head and batted the moth away. It flew across the room and didn’t return to the light.

’Moving right along. Veronica said she’d never have, you know, if she knew. She thought I was single.’

He frowned. ‘So she knows about us?’

‘I kinda blurted it out afterwards. Now I guess I outed you which wasn’t cool of me.’

He stared ahead for a bit. ‘Is she cool with us?’

‘Totally fine with it.’

He nodded. ’I’m not pissed, bru, but, I’m not going to be able to look at her with a straight face. ‘

‘A straight face,’ I intoned.

‘Fuckin’ hell, you better have kids one day so I can blame it on dad jokes.’

‘That implies you’d be there with my kids. Are these our kids, and how did we have them?’

He blushed. ‘I…’

I gave him a very cheesy grin.

‘You win, bru. But you better be a gentleman and let Veronica off the hook and tell her the air is cleared because I might die if I bump into her beforehand.’

‘The least I could do. And I’m never drinking wine again.’

‘I never drink beer again all the time.’ He flopped back on his pillow.

I mirrored his pose. ’Can we just… can we hug now and?’ I asked. ‘I need a hug.’

‘I could use one too,’ he said as he wrapped his arms around me. ‘Time to sleep all this off, bru.’

I reached out, switched off the lamp, and settled back in his embrace.

‘Night babe.’

‘Night my man.’

 


Monday morning, 04h32

‘Hey.’ Chris rubbed his eyes and stretched as I wriggled back under the covers.

‘Sorry, I went to pee, I didn’t mean to wake you,’

‘No worries,’ he said, snuggling up to me and lazily stroking my chest. ‘I can’t sleep any more.’

‘Me neither.’

‘I gotta say,’ said Chris, yawning, ‘last night was fuckin’ awesome.’

I gave him a shy grin. ‘I never thought I’d ever be having make-up sex in my bedroom. Well, make-up hand and blow jobs.’

‘Bro jobs,’ he said flatly, and burst out laughing.

‘Oh my god you didn’t.’

‘I did, I did. But you know what, Cal?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You’re the best I’ve ever had.’

‘Best what?’

Oh. I flushed red. ‘Really? But… but, we’ve never gone like, all the way.’

‘Does it matter?’ He wiped some sleep out of his eyes. Perhaps we will get there. Perhaps not.’ He yawned. ‘Honestly, bru, I’m not ready.’

My sigh of relief was perhaps a little dramatic. ‘Seriously? It freaks me out, a little. Okay, maybe a lot. It looks hot on the porn I’ve seen, but…’

He scooted up to me and pawed my shoulder. ‘Hey, hey. I guessed as much,’ he said. ‘It’d be new for both of us. I guess what I’m also saying is… I don’t mind waiting, cause, um… I’m not going anywhere, Seven of Mine. Think you also need to process your first time and losing virginity thing.’

‘Thanks,’ I managed, and nodded. ‘She was… good to me. No wait, kind to me.’

’Aw, bru, I’m happy to hear that. it’s hardly ever fireworks the first time. But hell, it gets better and better. Look at us, man. Expert at a lot of things I’d never thought I’d be doing.’

‘How come I can last so long with you when we mess around?’

He laughed. ’Maybe because we know each other’s bodies. I don’t feel pressure. I feel safe. As far as my idiot brain tracks, we are already having sex, we’re just not able to meet all the, like, criteria for an Amateur College Men casting call.’

‘Oh my fucking God, you watch that too?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe? Dudes look like they’re having fun and being safe.’

I put my head in his chest. ‘That’s it. Safe.’

‘Me too,’ he said. ‘Can I just stay like this, right now, forever?’

I blew out my cheeks. ‘How do we know it’ll be like this always? What if something happens? I thought my mom would always be there, and then, well, ugh.’

‘Stop that,’ he murmured, holding me tight. ‘We can’t know the future, bru.’

The sense of his body against me combined with the mention of Chris liking the same porn I did made me hard, and I let him know it. Soon we had shed our clothes again and tumbled about the bed in a little whirlwind. We had to be quiet, which made everything just more intense, and we were all spent within minutes.

I kicked off the counterpane, muggy with sweat and come despite the winter outside. It was still dark, but the setting moon spilled its light through the window. The little grey moth was perched unmoving in the topmost corner. I gazed down at my own body next to Chris’s and saw it for what it was: his complement. The undulations of our bodies seemed to echo each other, a strange but wonderful chimera.

No, very much no, a voice echoed in my head, we were not boys any more.

We towelled the worst of the stickiness off each other,.

I trailed my hand down his torso. My hand brushed against a rough patch on the inside of his leg and he twitched.

‘What’s that?’ I asked. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘It’s nothing,’ he said, covering the area with his hand in reflex.

I switched on the light. ‘Let me see,’ I said, and he meekly moved his hand away. There was an angry scratch mark on the inside of his leg. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it earlier.

‘What happened? It looks bloody painful.’

‘It’s from Saturday night, when I was running after you in the rain, I tripped and fell and landed on a fallen branch. Just a scratch, bru.’

‘A big one.’

‘Serves me right for being so piss drunk and upsetting you.’

‘It’s gonna leave a mark if we don’t attend to it properly.’

I found some disinfectant and though I had to hold a squirming Chris down in my best wrestling lock I managed to clean it properly.

‘You were… fuckin’ clinical bru,’ he grumbled, getting up. ‘You ever thought of becoming a doctor?’

‘Hmm.’ I laughed. ‘Both of us in med school? That’d be incestuous.’

‘I don’t want to do medicine, bru. My dad wants me to. I wanna do stuff with my hands. Thought came to me when I was fixing your bike.’

‘You’d make a good engineer,’ I observed. ‘You better apply soon, before admissions close.’

‘Fuck. That’s true.’

‘I’ll help you, Number One.’

He stretched and walked to the window, where the moth was now batting against the pane.

He stared at the little creature. ‘You are not insignificant, bru,’ he said suddenly. ‘Today you shall not know death.’

He shooed the moth into the frosty dark.

 


Monday afternoon, 14h12

‘You did what?’ Rob gaped at me.

Bella put down her Dostoyevsky. ‘How could you do that to Chris?’

‘I know,’ I said, looking down at the grass. The three of us were sitting sunning ourselves on the green in front of the old school buildings.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Bella.

‘Guys, Chris and I are cool, please, we were stupid and we sorted it out.’

Rob shook his head. ‘Excuse me.’ He got up and walked off. I started after him but Bella grabbed my arm.

‘Leave him,’ she whispered.

‘I’m such an idiot. I know what you guys must think.’

Bella shook her head. ‘I’m not judging you, Cal. I’m surprised, but I’m not like shocked.’

‘I don’t deserve you.’ The guilt that I thought I’d successfully exorcised was bubbling back from a crack in my soul.

‘Men can be so stupid,’ said Bella. ‘Main thing is you and Chris are okay with each other.’

‘Thanks,’ I managed. ‘I’ve sure pissed Rob off though.’

I’d never seen him looking so furious with me.

‘It’s not so much about you and Chris,’ she said. ‘He’s had a crush on Veronica for a long time.’

‘Oh, fuck.’ I put my head in my hands.

‘It will blow over,’ said Bella evenly. ‘For God’s sake don’t do your apologising routine now. It’ll only make things worse.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ I asked.

‘I think I understand men reasonably well. If the rivalries between my brother and his friends over girls are anything to go by.’

Brothers. Rob and I were essentially brothers.

‘He loves you, you know. I’ll be bloody annoyed with you two if you turn this into a competition.’

‘I doubt that would happen.’

‘You do know that if Jason finds out he’s going to murder you. Not that it’s any of his business.’

‘Tough,’ I said with bravado, trying to hide the tide of anxiety rising.

‘I felt I should warn you. I’m kinda proud of you guys, though, for sorting out your shit. That you guys are okay. We need you to be okay.’

As the bell rang I closed my eyes, the images of the past few days whirling about in my mind like an infernal carousel.

As I walked up to Maths, I saw Jason lurking at the end of the corridor. On Saturday we’d be swimming in our biggest event yet and he was going to be voracious for victory.

‘Hey Jason,’ I said in spite of myself. He stared at me. ‘How are you? Ready for what the season brings?’

‘Fuck off, MacLeod,’ he growled.

‘Suit yourself,’ I managed cheerfully. ‘I’ll see you in the pool soon.’

‘What do you look so happy about?’

If you only knew, I thought.

 


Monday evening, 19h33

‘Here,’ said my father, placing a brown paper package next to my bowl of minestrone. We were having a quiet supper; Chris had gone to touch base with his old friend Vusi who was at varsity.

‘What’s this?’ I picked up the package. It was nondescript and felt like it had boxes of something inside.

‘Maybe open it, uh, in your bedroom, later laddie.’ He was doing his Awkward But Serious tone which was equal parts endearing and unsettling. ‘I spoke to a… a few people,’ he continued, tugging at his collar, ‘and apparently they are the safest for… for whatever you and Christopher might want… want to…’

‘Dad?’ I was flummoxed.

‘Prophylactics.’

I threw up my hands. ‘I’m not following, Dad.’

‘Condoms, laddie, condoms.’

‘Oh my God, Dad. Oh my God. Can I please die now.’

My father held up a hand. 'Oh for God’s sake, dinnae be looking so peely-walley. I’d rather you boys be safe and all. Don’t need to know details, just, be safe, okay? There’s also a pamphlet in there, that lists resources, if you need more information on health matters.’

He looked frightened.

‘Dad, as horrifying as this is for me right now…and for the record, Chris and I are definitely not there yet…what’s wrong?’

My father took a deep breath and wiped his mouth with a serviette. ‘It’s a right royal epidemic out there, people dying because they lack access to information. And our president and his eejit Minister of Health prescribing potatoes and garlic as if that will fix things, ha! Doesn’t believe it’s actually caused by a virus.’

‘Dad,’ I said as evenly as I could, ‘I think I know the basics. Are you worried Chris and I are going to... get HIV because we are guys?’

I was going to mention that we were also monogamous until a flashback of the past 48 hours stopped my tongue dead in its tracks.

‘It’s not that, laddie… I…’ His eyes became misty. ‘I lost a few good friends when I was at uni. One of my best mates, laddie, in fact. They didn’t have information or any medicines that really worked. It was horrible. And here, the government is dragging its fucking feet rolling out medications.’

‘Are you scared you’ll lose me? Because you lost Mom?’

‘Oh laddie.’ He looked down at his bowl and set down his spoon. ‘Aye. I suppose I am. And here I am completely destroying any sense of decorum my absolute gentleman of an adult son is trying to maintain about his perfectly normal relationship with his absolute gentleman of an adult boyfriend.’

He was trying so hard, and he looked so lost. ‘Dad, I… appreciate it. Looking out for me.’

‘Looking out for him too,’ he said. ‘Decent lad being treated like shite by his bawbag of a father just because he… loves… loves… my son. Treat each other well, boys, before you know it, the whole world changes while one is having a silly argument about something.’

I grabbed the paper bag and folded it up demurely. ‘I'll take this to my room, and if it makes you feel better, your very inexperienced son will read through the... resources with an open mind as soon as my embarrassment settles, which, by the way, may be never.’

My father nodded and poured out the rest of his beer. ’I love you, laddie.’

I nodded and downed the dregs of my tea. ’I love you too, Dad.’

2013, 2023 Sean J Halford
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Thank you for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts and comments and greatly appreciate honest feedback from readers.
If you are enjoying this story, feel free to recommend it and/or post a review. 
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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9 hours ago, VBlew said:

Good part of making up. Funny, they have now both been with girls “ all the way” but aren’t ready to take their relationship there?  Maybe the gift from dad will help them out. 

 

Well spotted... I wanted to highlight, subtly, the taboo aspect that would still be hanging over them, plus also the misconception that penetrative intercourse is the be-all and end-all of sex.

SPOILER ALERT FOR UPCOMING PLOT POINTS related to the above, scroll down if you want... or not...

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In the original edition of the story, Cal explicitly mentions to the reader in his internal monologue that he and Chris did not consummate their relationship in this way for several years 

Whether this does happen in the course of  the following months I still haven't decided. While I'm not afraid to write sex scenes, this book is not intended as erotica, if they get to it during the course of the story, it will very much be a subtle reveal and not 3D porn-o-rama.

Finally, [not-so-dramatic ending spoiler ahead] this book was always intended to end happily for our two lads in terms of their relationship, as the title even alludes to. While I might put my protagonists through hell and drama, I wrote it as an affirmation that same-sex relationships can be just as happy and solid as heterosexual ones, so I sort of have a duty to have the erotic aspect realistic, messy, and at times frustrating.

I have also written this update as a sort of answer to the much-celebrated novel "A Little Life" by Hanya Nahinagara, which I will warrant is beautiful literature, and has far more recognition and a following than STL ever will have. That book left a bitter taste in my mouth: it feeds into the narrative that gay relationships must be based on suffering and anguish. The protagonist goes through unbelievable torture to the point that it becomes (a) unbelievable and (b) egregious. I am tired of this trope. I believe in hope, and will always be an optimistic writer who prefers cinnamon rolls to gruel, even if I drop my characters into the depths of darkness at times.

 

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