The Unwanted - 1. Part 1: Arctic Summer

Karasjoki, Finnmark, June 2011

 

A gentle, almost warm summer breeze blew over the rows of low, blunted hills, which looked as if they had been sculptured that way. In a way they were, not by mankind but by thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of years of crumbling ice, that had scraped the mountains they once were into the softly rounded forms they still had in present times. Despite their gentle shape they were forbidden and rough in winter, covered as they were by frozen snow, crushing under one’s feet. Now, in the month of June, they looked friendly, covered by a lush green cover of moss and speckled with the many colors of the wild summer flowers.

At the base of the hills a river lazily followed the course dictated by its bed. Contrary to the hills, vegetation was abundant along its shores, with birches and many, many spruces. Here and there a boat was seen with one or two men fishing in its waters.

Along the north bank of the river was a small town. It was the kind of typical Scandinavian town with wooden houses in many colors. There was a blue shed directly along the river and houses in green, red, white and ocher. The town had two churches, both made of wood, an old church, now in disuse, and a new larger one. It also had a small police station, of which schoolboy gossip told, that only the outside was made of wood, while the inner walls were of concrete, thereby making it impossible for any crook to escape from the one and only cell the small building possessed. The only structures not made of wood were the gas station and its attached cafetaria, an ugly grey concrete building, whose only colors were emanated by its screaming neon signs, that advertised the oil company that supplied the fuel in this area, and the bridge over the river. Oh, and the town had two schools, but despite being pretty large buildings they were still made out of colorful wood.

Despite the late hour of the evening this end of June night the sun still casted an orange-like glow over the town, being visible above the horizon. In this light a casual observer could see two boys of maybe fourteen years of age and a dog hanging out along the town’s main street. It might be late, but having summer holidays they saw no immediate need to get to bed in due time for another school day. Both knew that would change, especially since they were entering secondary school. The minute the school bell would ring the first time after the holidays, fun would be over, but for the time being they only wanted to enjoy their freedom from teachers, rules and school books.

The way both boys were dressed might bring the same casual observer to the conclusion, that they belonged to the Sami people, the only indigenous European people left, that had inhabited these cold and inhospitable areas from a time long before Christ was born. Both were wearing the traditional gákti, the colorful and decorated coat so typical for the Sami people. However, at second glance one might feel doubt about this premature conclusion, especially in regard to the boy walking on the left. If one was looking at him from the rear it was not unthinkable the boy was simply Nordic, because his long blonde hair gave that impression. And looking in his eyes might confirm this idea, since they were a lively steel-blue as was the fact that he was pretty large for his age. But for the rest he was Sami: he had the round face with the reddish brown-tanned skin tint, that most Europeans link with Native Americans. Both conclusions were partly true, because Eidno was of mixed ethnicity, his mother being full Sami and his father full Nordic. His father had come from the south to Finnmark to fulfill his National Service, but after he fell in love with Eidno’s mother, the Arctic in general and with dog sled racing specifically, he just decided to stay, now serving as a career soldier in the nearby garrison. Between his duties there he had seen chance to infect his son with the virus for dog sled racing with the boy owning his first small sled and a two-dog team at the age of eight. Now Eidno’s life centered on dogs and on dog sled racing. Under the rigid, military-style guidance of his well-meaning father his body became lean but muscled and his mind was hardened for the big ordeal to come. Because the big dream he was training for was to take part in the Finnmark Run, the grueling long-distance race in the Arctic wastelands of Norway in the deepest winter conditions. But this big dream was followed in its footsteps by a second dream, the one to become a vet!

The boy on the right, whose name was Mihkkel, was an almost perfect opposite to Eidno. He was rather small and thin but his head betrayed his Sami ancestry in a clear way, leaving no doubt. His face was also round, with twinkling dark brown eyes hiding between his glasses and his raven black hair fell on his shoulders.

He had a sketch book and a pouch of drawing utensils under his arm and the two of them chatted animatedly about their trip to the river bank this evening. Eidno was well aware, that Mihkkel often felt lonely. His mother was a single woman, who raised her son on her own and had enough to do with working long hours of hard work for small wages at the local cafetaria, making sure there was at least something to eat for her and the boy. So Mihkkel was often alone at home or he was with his grandfather, a wise old man with kind eyes, a soft voice and an always compassionate demeanor. But as often, very often, the two boys were together, just having fun as boys their age are supposed to do.

They had become friends the minute they met as six years-old kids when they entered primary school. Somehow, they instinctively liked each other instantaneous and felt drawn to the other. It was just a normal boy’s friendship: they chatted, they dreamed about later, in summer they swam in the river, they did their fishing from the shore in summer and their icefishing in winter together, they made mischief and they wandered for hours in the breathtaking nature around the town. Mihkkel was no fanatic dog lover, but he liked it when he was in the midst of Eidno’s dogs and Eidno could look on in admiration as Mihkkel started drawing, like this evening.

For the umpteenth time he observed his friend working and was unable to comprehend how he did it every time and again: the boy could put on paper with his hands and fingers what his eyes saw, no matter what it was: the river, the hills, an animal, a building, a boat with somebody in it, it all appeared on the white paper as natural as it was before them in reality, like it was this evening.

“Amazing”, Eidno had exclaimed, “I really don’t get it how you do it, but it’s really incredible. It just looks real! If I would have done it, you wouldn’t recognize it!”

Mihkkel only shrugged and with a somewhat shy smile he answered:

“So what? Hey, you can race dogs! Not exactly my cup of tea!”

“Yeah,” Eidno objected, “But that’s something completely different”.

“It is”, Mihkkel agreed, “It is different but for me as incomprehensible as drawing is for you. I can draw, you can race dogs. Hey, if I would race dogs, I would probably end up in hospital with at least two broken legs”.

Eidno had smiled at that remark, knowing that his friend was right. Then he asked:

“You want to go on with drawing? I mean...later? Make a living out of it?”

Mihkkel nodded with a smile, the smile that Eidno knew so well and that he had learned to love. Softly he said:

“Don’t tell anybody…but yes: I want to be an artist!”

“That’s great, Mihkkel!” Eidno cried out enthusiastically, “Want do you want to do when you’re an artist?”

“Pffff….I don’t know yet!” came the sobering answer, “I mean, I’m not an artist yet, am I?”

“In my eyes you are”, Eidno said full of conviction.

“And you?” Mihkkel wanted to know, “What do you want to do later on?”

“I…hey, uhm, don’t laugh! Promise?” Eidno hesitantly muttered.

“Promise…cross my heart”, Mihkkel said.

“I want to be a vet”, Eidno confided.

“I could have guessed!”, was all Mihkkel said, “Come, my friend, I think it is time to go home now before our parents start worrying where the hell we are!”

Eidno whistled his dog and they rose, strolled back to the village and once they arrived there, through the main street, where this casual observer saw them in the never-setting midnight sun.

 

Karasjoki, Finnmark, January 2013

 

Things started to change when both had turned sixteen, maybe even a bit earlier. It was a gradual and stealthily developing process that none of them noticed right away. And it didn’t matter who noticed it first.

Anyway, during this extremely long January evening Mihkkel was in his bed, trying to sleep. The midnight sun in summer had its drawback in winter, when the sun wouldn’t rise at all.

The alarm would go off early the next morning for another school day. But somehow sleep wasn’t coming. Something bothered him!

Being kept totally in the dark about hormones and their effects he was worried by his body for some months now. He felt that things were changing but he didn’t know what exactly and even worse: he didn’t have a clue why it was changing!

The first thing he had noticed was that hair was starting to grow on and around that puny body part that hung under his abdomen between his legs. Initially he didn’t pay attention to it, but with the passing of time and the growth becoming wealthier he started to worry if he might have some scary skin disease in that area. It became some kind of obsession for him and he studied himself in the mirror each evening, swearing he could discern each hair that hadn’t been there the evening before.

But what unsettled him even more was, that the thing, that he had until recently only considered to be a convenient tool for aiming where he had to pee, seemed to have started a life of its own, a life that was totally beyond his control. At the most unexpected and funny moments it started to throb and got big and hard, standing up like the spruces along the river, just to get limp again after some time. When he accidentally touched it, it gave him a strange sensation, which was quite enjoyable.

He really panicked when he noticed something peculiar: the little tube became like a ramrod spruce every time he was thinking of Eidno! The first times it happened he saw no direct connection between the reaction of his penis and the image of Eidno. But after it happened repeatedly he became really scared.

He was convinced that Eidno was a part of his life and that he didn’t want to lose him. But if it could be called love? He had no idea. Love was such a big word, but…if it was, what could be wrong with it?

No matter what: he decided to do something to strengthen the ties between the both of them and he found a perfect occasion with Eidno`s sixteenth birthday coming up. Without his friend knowing, he made a deal with Eidno´s mother so that he would have access to the dog shed, where he started drawing Migás, the leader dog of Eidno’s team. Since the dog was a very uncooperative model it took him weeks, but at long last he was able to present the drawing to Eidno as a birthday gift, completely with picture frame, really enjoying how Eidno loved it, looking at it with gleaming eyes!

This dark January evening the funny feelings had happened again. But something new took place as well: he noticed how the blunt tip had become some kind of damp.

“Jesus”, he hissed, “Do I have a problem? Does it mean that I want Eidno to touch me there? Or do I want to touch Eidno?”

He felt in his bones that it wasn’t normal but had no idea why. He jumped out of bed, started his computer and began to google. All he found and read worried him even more.

“I’ve got to talk about this with someone”, he muttered.

But he knew full well that was easier said as done! He could ask his mother about it, but on the other hand he saw no need to burden her any further as she already was. She had enough on her hands with making a living for the two of them. And besides, she was Sami! As a Sami he was aware that his people were a silent people, who seldom talked. Oh yes, they chatted…about the weather, about the reindeer, about their new car, about their football club, all superficial things. But the real things, the intimate things, were not open for any discussion. Even a seriously ill family member was considered “intimate” and was not discussed. At best the direct relatives would whisper about the patient but it would never leave the walls of their dwellings.

All he read on google said his physical changes had to do with sex. Well, if that was the case then he really had a problem, because the fact, that he even had never heard the word mentioned before, indicated that it was the most intimate thing that was certainly not to be discussed.

Besides: all hits mentioned that sex had to be between boys and girls, men and women. Only one hit mentioned something different, but the idea of it was too frightening to him. He knew that it would make life very, very hard for him in this small-knit community north of the Arctic Circle.

“I really have to talk to someone”, he muttered again.

He considered his options. OK, so it wouldn’t be his mother, that was for sure. But who then?

“Maybe…grandfather Eaddji?”, he whispered.

There was a risk: the man was also Sami and might condemn him as any other in the village would do. But somehow, he couldn’t imagine the man would; he knew him from baby on and the elderly man was always kind, understanding and compassionate.

Somewhat in despair he looked at his alarm on the night stand.

“Fuck”, he whispered, “This is going to be one hell of a very short night. OK, boy…there’s two things you can do. You can fret over it for the rest of your life or you can at least try to talk to grandfather Eaddji. That’s all the options you’ve got!”

He got back in his bed, put out the night stand light and stared to the ceiling. To his luck sleep overwhelmed him, liberating him from all his worries…at least for this night.

 

It took him some days to assemble enough courage but finally he knocked on the door of his grandfather’s little house. Although he had been there thousands of times in his life, this time was different. At least the belly ache he felt told him so.

The old man opened and at recognizing him said with a broad smile:

“Hei, my most favorite grandson…come on in, Mihkkel!”

Following the man Mihkkel said cheerfully:

“Yeah, grandpa…and your only grandson on top of that. So, it’s not that difficult to be your favorite one, is it?”

Grandfather Eaddji chuckled at the remark, inviting him to sit down, asked him if he wanted tea and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. From the kitchen he said:

“Yeah, you’re right. But, my boy, it makes you something very special in an old man’s life!”

When tea was ready his grandfather shuffled back in the living room, balancing the two tea cups in his hands. After putting them on the table he sat down opposite Mihkkel and looked at him.

“You look good, my boy! Actually, did you notice that your beard starts to grow? You’re growing into a man now”.

“Beard?” Mihkkel reacted startled.

The old man grinned and said with his soft voice:

“Yes, beard! Don’t you look in the mirror?”

Mihkkel thought it a good idea not to mention that he looked in the mirror every evening, concentrating on the area between his legs, looking for new hairs. He had never noticed a beard growing, since he had never looked at his face.

“But”, the old man continued, “I also notice you look worried. What is going on, my boy? What is nagging you?”

It had happened so often, the way his grandfather seemed to be able to read his thoughts before he even noticed it. That was exactly why he felt so good when he was with him, the confidentiality, the way the man made him feel at ease.

“Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to come here to talk it over”, he thought.

“Well, grandpa…”, he started in doubt, “I…”

The old man, well into his seventies, looked at him with inviting eyes. Mihkkel looked in the face he knew so well: the wrinkled skin, the bushy eyebrows above the dark eyes, the grey hair too long for what one would expect for a man his age.

But his grandfather sure knew how to play the game. He didn’t insist, didn’t push, he just waited patiently until his grandson would spit it out. Because the old man was already certain of one thing: no matter what bothered the youngster, it sure was important in his young life, taking too long to talk about it if it were something trivial.

The unspoken invitation in the old man’s eyes made him start talking. By bits and pieces he told about what had been bothering him for the last months. His grandfather just listened, never saying a word, never interrupting him, just waiting for more to come when a lapse of silence fell in his story.

Only when he had kept silent for several minutes, having told most of what had been eating his heart out, the old man asked:

“Was that all, my boy?”

Mihkkel hesitated. He was fully aware that he didn’t mention one important thing in his narrative, but he simply didn’t have the guts to do it. He just nodded as an answer.

“Somehow I got the feeling that I’m the first one you are discussing it with”, his grandfather mused out loud, “I’m pretty sure you didn’t talk this over with your mother”.

Mihkkel shook his head in denial.

“Because you thought she already had enough on her hands without giving her more to be concerned about”, the old man continued.

Mihkkel nodded, again surprised by how the man was really capable of reading his thoughts.

“You’re a good boy”, grandfather Eaddji said.

Then he stared pensively for a few seconds and said:

“My dear Mihkkel, don’t you worry! You’re not ill. It is only that you transforming from a boy into a man, with your body, with your mind and with your heart. Yes, it can be a difficult process. We all have been there! But it will turn out just fine, it just takes time”.

“Does it take long, grandpa?” Mihkkel asked with clear relief in his voice.

“I can’t say that. One boy is faster than the other so don’t ask me to do a prophecy on that”.

The old man chuckled and added:

“Only problem is, that we will have to keep a closer eye on the girls in town”.

“But…”, Mihkkel said, biting his lip just in time, choking back what he had almost blurted out, the only thing he hadn’t mentioned yet: the connection between getting aroused and Eidno. He felt, that he had just drained so much of the scarce stock of courage, that there was not enough left in him to address that subject as well.

“But?”, his grandfather asked curious.

“No…”, Mihkkel said softly, “Sorry, just forget it!”

Grandfather Eaddji was not only old but he was wise as well. He didn’t press his grandson, knowing it would be no use. A vague smile was on his lips and his eyes only seemed to say:

“No problem. It’ll come out sooner or later!”

 

Karasjoki, Finnmark, March 2013

 

While Mihkkel was suffering from his worries and changes Eidno had his own share of problems. Being only one month older than his friend he experienced the same physical changes at about the same time, but he didn’t pay much attention to it, accepting it as a given thing.

He was too occupied with training. After a long talk with his father both were convinced that he was ready for his first race, so he registered for the Junior Finnmark Run next year. He would have loved to jump directly to a higher class, but his age precluded that. Besides, his father told him not to hurry and just enjoy the race, at the same time gaining experience for later races in a higher class. Eidno knew that his father was mostly right, so he took the advice and started training himself and his dogs.

This Saturday evening, he lay in his bed. His father had pushed him and the dogs to their limits the whole day and he was bone tired. He smiled at the thought that his four-pawed friends in the shed would probably feel the same.

Somehow his mind drifted off and he started dreaming. He knew that the possibilities to go out on a Saturday were none-existent in this town so he let his mind drift to the big city, to Oslo, the only place in the country where he could study for vet. He tried to imagine how lots of young folks would be having fun in the clubs, which seemed to be plentiful in the city as far as he had heard.

Somehow this daydream was not very fascinating and lost its appeal very fast. His eyes slid to the drawing of Migás, that hung prominently above his bed. It was a beautiful drawing of a beautiful dog. Each feature was delicately drawn with the utmost care and here and there some shades of grey accentuated the dog’s body on exactly the same spots where in reality the black coat showed some lighter spots. It must have costed Mihkkel unimaginable concentration and effort to draw this.

Mihkkel…his thoughts drifted on to the young artist who made this piece of art, at least that’s what it was in his eyes. It was not only a promising artist but also a dear friend for about ten years now. But Eidno felt that something was changing in their relationship. As if it became… more intense, as if it was on some undefined higher level than just friendship. Eidno was no fool: he knew that it wouldn’t be welcomed…by nobody!

But what else could he do? Oh yes, he remembered that his sister, who was one year younger, had told him giggling that Aliissa Kristopherson, a girl in her class, was swooning about him. He had looked at her once: yes, she was cute, that was not the problem but somehow it didn´t appeal to him.

But Mihkkel…if he was not dressed in traditional Sami garb but just in normal western clothes he looked pretty with his tight jeans, mountain shoes and sweatshirt with hoodie. It showed his cute ass very well. The only possible conclusion was, that Mihkkel was attractive to him.

Eidno could not escape the thought that he was really yearning for his friend. He wanted to be near him, touch him, love him! But despite the fact he was fearless on a dog sled in deep snow he felt himself a weak coward in these matters. He was too shy to talk about it with Mihkkel. He felt too much fear of losing his friend, leaving him totally emptyhanded and on his own.

He wished he had someone he could talk to about all this, but he knew there wasn’t. His parents were kind people, but he had the gloomy feeling that they wouldn’t understand this. It was no use to run downstairs, storm in the living room and yell:

“Hey, guys, listen up. I’ve found out I’m gay and I’m deeply in love with Mihkkel!”

He imagined what the effect would be and he smiled when he whispered:

“Now that would ruin a quiet Saturday evening for sure!”

He wished he had the same kind of grandfather Mihkkel had: an old, wise man to whom he could tell everything that bothered him and would understand it all, someone he could depend on. But again, he knew he hadn’t! What did that leave for him, apart from trying to sort it all out by his own?

“Wait a minute!” he whispered.

He remembered something, something he had heard at school. He couldn’t recall all the details but he was certain that he found a possibility to talk to someone about his chaotic, mixed-up feelings. He got out of bed, started his laptop and googled a bit.

It took him a few minutes but then the thing he was looking for popped up.

“Yes…the Youth Help Chat if you need a talk; for kids to 18 years”, he read out loud. He made contact and as soon as he came in the chat page a message came on:

“Hei, I am Jens. What can I do for you?”

It almost made him startle but he quickly got his wits together and typed back:

“Oh..hei…well, I don’t know if you can help me. Actually, just wanted to talk. There’s no one else I can talk to about this. It’s some kind of too personal, you know”.

“I understand”, Jens wrote back, “Will you tell me your first name? It makes it a little more personal to chat, don’t you think so?”

Eidno was in doubt…he wanted this to be anonymous. But on the other hand, just his first name couldn’t cause any problems, so he answered:

“Oh sorry, I’m Eidno. But hey, I want this anonymous. No offense meant, but the less people know about it the better it is”.

“Lovely name you’ve got”, Jens wrote, “Don’t worry about being anonymous. Only thing I know about you, is that your name is Eidno and that you’re somewhere in Norway. Only thing you know about me is that my name is Jens and that I’m somewhere in Oslo. Now, is that anonymous enough for you?”

Eidno thought it over for a few seconds and then typed:

“Yeah!”

“How old are you. Eidno?” a new message flashed.

“16”.

“So, Eidno, what is it you want to talk about?” Jens wrote.

“Well…I’ve got this friend. A real good friend, I mean. We’ve been friends for almost ten years. We met in first grade of primary school”.

“Wow, that’s a long time. It seems you two are having good times and lots of fun then”, Jens answered.

“Yeah, we have”, Eidno typed with a smile on his face.

“But where’s the problem?” Jens wanted to know.

“Well…you know…I’ve got the feeling that this friendship is somehow changing. At least on my side”.

“What does that mean?” Jens asked.

“Well...I think I love him!”.

Even writing it in a chat with a total stranger made him blush.

“Wait a minute, but let me get this clear…you love HIM?” Jens typed.

Eidno nodded, but he realized it was not very smart to just nod. So, he typed it:

“Yes”.

“Eidno, do you mean that you love him as a friend or do you love him as in Love with a big L?” came the next message on the screen.

Eidno had to take another brief thinking pause but then he wrote without hesitation:

“I mean love him as in Love with a big L!”

There was a short break in incoming messages, that made Eidno worry that the chat was over. But he was wrong, because the screen showed the next message:

“And how does he feel about it?”

“I don’t know!” Eidno typed honestly, “And before you ask if we have discussed it: no, we haven’t. I’m too afraid to discuss it. If it goes sour, I might not have a lover after all but also lose a very dear friend. I’m not sure if I’m willing to take that risk”.

“I understand”, Jens reacted, “It is normal you feel that way”.

Eidno shrugged in the darkness of his room, only his face slightly lightened by the glare coming off the laptop screen.

“So, that’s my problem in a nutshell”, he wrote.

“Yes”, Jens wrote back, “I can see you have a problem. Let’s start with the easiest part, although I can imagine you feel different. It is nothing unusual you feel fear. Since you’re sixteen I assume it is your first big love. You know, Eidno, the first love is incredibly beautiful and terribly frightening at the same time”.

“Why that?” Eidno asked.

Jens typed the answer very fast:

“Because you are on ground, where you’ve never been before. Or maybe I should say: you walk on land you don’t know. You’ll just have to find your way there and you have to do it on your own. The fact, that you are gay, doesn’t change anything about it. A boy, who falls in love with a girl for the very first time, feels the same fear and uncertainty. In other words: gays are no different from other people”.

“Is that bad, to be gay?” Eidno asked, suddenly feeling little at ease. He had already suspected he was gay, but the fact that it was in letters, right in front of his nose, made him a bit twitchy. It read as a verdict or a diagnosis from a doctor; maybe it just made it official!

“No, it isn’t”, Jens typed, “You’re just different than other boys. But you’re no better or worse than other boys. I know that there are people, who see it different, but that is not your problem. You have a right to lead your own life and love your own love!”

“But what do I do with Mihkkel?” he asked.

“Aaah”, Jens wrote, “That is your big love’s name? I was just wondering about that”.

Somehow it made Eidno feel good. It read as if the warm smile on Jens’s face was visible through the screen.

But the next message was a bit disenchanting, because Jens continued:

“You know, Eidno: I can’t help you out on that! The only one, who can do something about it, is you! But I can give you a few guidelines. First: try to find out how he feels, not by direct asking, but by…let’s call it signals he is sending. And in the end, you will just have to find the courage to talk to him. And take the consequences if it goes wrong. I mean: you can’t force him to love you, can you?”

“No, I can’t”, Eidno responded despondent.

“Think about it. Maybe he already did send signals, but you misunderstood them or simply didn’t pick them up. That might give you clues on how he feels!” Jens suggested.

“He gave me a beautiful drawing of my lead dog for my birthday”, Eidno wrote, hoping that was something he might interpret as one of these mysterious signs.

“Drawing? Lead dog? I don’t understand. Can you explain that?” Jens asked.

“Mihkkel draws a lot. He wants to become an artist. I think he already is”, Eidno typed enthusiastically.

“And what is a lead dog?” Jens asked again.

“Oh, sorry…I’m in dog sled racing”, Eidno wrote smiling.

“OK, where do you live then?” Jens wanted to know, “I don’t mean which town, but only which area”.

Eidno felt a twinge of suspicion. Jens had promised it would remain anonymous and now he asked for additional information. After considering it briefly he decided it didn’t matter; Finnmark was a pretty huge area so he answered with:

“In Finnmark”.

“Well, if he really drew it himself, then you might see that as a signal, I feel”, Jens wrote, “But again, Eidno: it’s no different between a boy and a girl. Keep that in mind!”

“I will”, Eidno wrote, “Thanks! Maybe you can’t solve my problem but it helped a lot to talk…well, in this case write about it. Guess I felt pretty lonely. I feel like the only gay in Finnmark”.

“No, no” Jens reacted re-assuring, “I can guarantee you, that there are more gays over there. And they all feel the same way you do. Remember, if you want to chat again, just come on line”.

“I will”, Eidno wrote, “Thanks and have a nice evening!”

“Same to you, Eidno”, the screen read, “I hope to see you again!”

He shut down his laptop and rose, walking back to the bed. He didn’t lay down but stood in front of it, just staring at the drawing hanging above it, as if he was looking for answers to the question, that stormed through his thoughts, from the black, white and grey dog head:

“Was this just a birthday presence, Mihkkel, or did you want to express more with it?”.

After a long time of scrutinizing the drawing he shrugged. To him, drawings appeared to be notoriously incapable of giving answers.

“Oh fuck”, he moaned, “I’m too tired to think any longer, Tomorrow is another day!”

He lied down, wrapped the blankets cozily around him and switched off the bed light. Before he knew he was sound asleep, but Mihkkel didn’t leave him. He was in his dreams!

 

Karasjoki, Finnmark, May 2013

 

The days were getting longer again. It was a sure sign that spring was coming and, as always during spring, people tend to become restless. For some reason, unraveled by science until the present day, this is particularly true for people in love. They can get enormously restless during spring!

Mihkkel was no exception to that unwritten rule of nature. The more sun he saw, the more excited and restless he got.

Apart from school he hadn’t seen Eidno for a few days, knowing that the boy was fully occupied with his training for the next winter’s race debut. It made him feel kind of lonely. Being separated from Eidno caused him pain and this pain resulted in questions and uncertainty in his mind as almost per default.

He thought that the gift of the drawing had been a clear sign but, although Eidno was very pleased with it, the response was lukewarm, at least when seen in the light of its actual objective. There was no further noticeable rapprochement above the already existing level of their friendship.

During the long winter months it had depressed him but now, with the days getting longer and the green sprouting, he felt new hope.

He had asked Eidno this morning in school when they could get together and the reply was given with sparkling steel-blue eyes: next Saturday there was no training scheduled. So, they agreed to see each other that Saturday and have some fun again.

That meant that Mihkkel was on his own this Wednesday afternoon. His mother was at work and he was wondering how he would spend it. A plan came up: he had been thinking for some time to make a portrait of someone and he had a fair idea for a perfect model, well…apart from Eidno that was. He picked up his cellular and dialed the number of his grandfather.

About half an hour later he sat at his grandfather’s table, sketchbook open and a whole battery of pencils, charcoal and erasers around him. The old man sat comfortably in his chair and the boy started observing his face, studying the main features, like cheek line, chin and form of nose and mouth. Then he started sketching.

He was so absorbed in what he was doing, that he didn’t notice, that the old man was observing him carefully. He almost startled when he heard the squeaky old voice say suddenly:

“You look very happy, my boy”.

He looked across the table, trying to take a stance, but he felt he failed miserably in doing so.

“Do I?” was his only reaction.

“Yes, you do. You look very happy indeed! How come, if I may ask?” his grandfather asked.

The boy giggled somewhat nervously when he said:

“I’ll tell you. But only if you promise you won’t tell mum!”

“OK”, was the immediate reply, “A secret from man to man between the two of us”.

Mihkkel wouldn’t think of lying to his grandfather so with a shy smile he softly said:

“I think I’m in love, grandpa. No, I’m certain I’m in love!”

“Well, well”, the old man smiled, “And who is the lucky girl?”

Back in his own realm of lines, shadows and shades Mihkkel didn’t think of what he was answering, so he simply blurted out:

“Oh, it’s no girl, grandpa, but….”

It hit him like a lighting strike what he had just said and with horrified eyes he looked at his grandfather. The only thing he saw where the softly encouraging and inviting eyes under the bushy grey eyebrows.

“But, my boy?” the man said softly, insisting ever so gently.

He knew he was trapped. No, he knew he had trapped himself! But it looked as if there was no way out of it, so barely audible he answered:

“It’s a boy, grandpa”.

His grandfather couldn’t suppress a satisfied smile: finally, it was out in the open between them, the words that didn’t come out a few months before.

Mihkkel had totally different feelings than satisfaction: he felt agonized. He feared anger, even rage. He was certain, that his grandfather would kick him out of his house with the words to never come back again. Where could he go then when he had problems? And despite the promise, the old man would call his mother right away. Just one second of not thinking and he was in the shit real deep!

He felt an urge to cry from despair and anger at himself. Actually, tears were already welling up in his eyes.

But nothing, of what he feared, happened. His grandfather just looked at him with soft understanding eyes and the only thing the man said was:

“Then I must rephrase my last question: who is the lucky boy?”

Bewilderment replaced fear in Mihkkel’s mind. Was he hearing this right?

“It’s …it’s Eidno, the dog boy”.

“Aaah”, his grandfather reacted, “The boy with the long blond hair? I believe his father is in the Army, isn’t he?”

Speechless as he was, Mihkkel could only nod.

“Well, well, my boy, you have an excellent taste”, the man smiled with sparkling eyes.

“But…grandpa…” Mihkkel started, still not understanding what was happening.

“Yes, my boy?” was the ever-friendly reaction.

“Aren’t you angry with me?” Mihkkel asked cautiously, not really wanting to provoke a rage.

“Why should I be angry with you?” the graybeard asked.

“Well…they say it’s a grave sin when a boy…well, you know, when a boy loves a boy. They say that these boys must be deeply ashamed of themselves”.

“Says who, my boy?” his grandfather asked.

“The parson says so. And the people in Kautokeino, when they more or less chased this man out of town!”, Mihkkel replied, referring to a series of incidents in a town to the west, where people had been terrorizing and threatening to kill a man, who had openly come out as being gay, to the extent that he had to be protected by the police until he could leave, fleeing to the anonymous safety of Oslo, more or less seeking asylum there.

“My boy”, grandfather Eaddji spoke, “What the parson says and what these people in Kautokeino did, says more about their own narrowmindedness than about you, Eidno or this man. And I most certainly hope you are not holding me for narrowminded”.

Mihkkel shook his head frantically. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

The old man stared pensively for a short while and then he continued:

“I think it is time to tell you a very old story, that might make things clear to you. It is a story I learned from my grandmother when I was a kid”.

“Wow”, Mihkkel said in reverence, “Then it must be really old!”

His grandfather chuckled and said:

“It is even older than that. Because my grandmother told me she had learned the story from her grandmother, who, in turn, had learned it from her grandmother. It is actually an old Sami saga, that could well be thousands of years old”.

“How does it go?” Mihkkel asked curious.

His grandfather made sure he sat comfortably and started telling the story:

“A long, long time ago, before the Christian man came from the south, we were the only people living in these lands. We were rather happy. Oh yes, of course there were times of hardship, but in general the reindeer herds gave us good to eat, enough skin for clothing and tenting and, maybe the most important thing of all: we were free to settle our own matters in our own ways without interference from the men from the south, who had the idea they knew everything better”.

“You mean the Norwegians?” Mihkkel asked.

The man nodded but continued undisturbed with his story:

“In those days our people had three worlds. There was the southern world, that gave us warmth and life and which was the place where all our gods lived. The middle world was where the Sami and their reindeer lived and the Northern world is the underworld, which was called saivo, from where the cold comes and where the dead reside.

We had many, many gods. It was not as it is now, where the parson says, that there is only one God, of course the Christian one”.

He took a deep breath and then continued his story. Mihkkel listened captivated.

“Now the actual saga goes like this: when Sami children were born, they were not born as boys or girls, but only as children. They became boys and girls while they were growing. Now, the goddess Madderakka is the god who gives the children the body parts for this. She makes sure that boys get penises and that girls get vaginas and wombs. Madderakka was really dutifully and she always made sure that each child got the part he or she was lacking until that moment. But then…there was a problem: it is not enough that children get their last body parts, but their spirit must be adapted to their future roles as man or woman. Now, this was the task of Madderakka’s husband, the god Madder-Attje. He was responsible for the ignition of the appropriate spirit in each child. No mortal will ever know if Madder-Attje was simply lazy or chaotic or if he suffered from forgetfulness. But the truth is, he often forgot to ignite the spirit or he gave a child the wrong spirit. Many, many children felt miserable, because they didn’t know what they were. There were boys with penises who felt like girls, as there were girls with vaginas and wombs, who actually felt like boys, both of them screaming in despair to the gods to change their spirit. And then there were those children who were simply left in the dark what they were and who simply did what they thought was the best thing to do. It made many, many children confused and it caused a rainbow of sexual identities and roles in our people. And all that was because this god forgot to give a spirit or he had forgotten to change what was supposed to be changed”.

It seemed the story had ended, because his grandfather looked questioningly in his eyes. Mihkkel thought it over and said hesitantly:

“Grandpa, somehow I understand what it means with my heart but I can’t translate it in logical words in my mind. Can you help me out on that?”

The old man smiled and said:

“The fact that you understand it with your heart is the most important thing. But yes, I will gladly help you out to do some logical explanation”.

“What does it mean in logical words then?” the boy asked.

“Let us start with translating it in modern, now-a-days language. All children are born uni-gender, which means that every child is born bisexual. We are not talking about the physical side: every boy is born with a penis and every girl with a vagina and womb. But mentally they grow into boys and girls during their development to become men that love women and women that love men. But there is a small group that remains bisexual and a larger group that becomes homosexual or lesbian. And yes, there is a small group that is transgender, what the saga calls a female spirit in a boy’s body or the other way around. Is it clear so far?”

Mihkkel nodded. He got it!

“But”, his grandfather continued, “what the saga really means, especially at the end, is that there were lots of gender varieties in the old days and that things were not limited to the present norm, that only love between a man and a woman is the only right and correct love. We Sami already recognized that we are not all the same. That is the real meaning!”

“So…”, Mihkkel started a question, still considering what he had heard.

“So?” the old man encouraged him.

“Well, if I get it right, I’m not breaking the moral rules of my own people. Is that correct?”

His grandfather smiled and said:

“You are a little genius! Right on the spot, my boy. Yes, you are breaking the moral rules of the Christians, but you are not breaking the moral rules of the Sami. So…what is stopping the two of you?”

Mihkkel smiled a bit uncertain at the last question and answered only:

“Courage, grandpa!”

“That will come with time, my boy”, the kind voice said.

“But… what I don’t understand, grandpa”, Mihkkel wanted to know, “Why did we abandon our old morals and religion?”

“Because we had to”.

The boy looked puzzled and said:

“Why that?”

Mihkkel saw his grandfather’s eyes change from softness to sadness. After a long, deep sigh the man answered:

“About three hundred years ago some king in Oslo decided that the Sami had to be re-educated in good, Christian Norwegians. So, he sent his soldiers, his policemen, his officials and, maybe the most important of all, his missionaries to the north. And let’s face it, my boy, when you look at it from their perspective, they did a real good job because we have almost no culture of our own left!”

“But how did they do it?”, Mihkkel asked, feeling a kind of undefined anger boiling up.

“Just in a nutshell, my boy”, the wise man answered, “First they forced us to abandon our nomadic lifestyle and ordered us to settle in one fixed location. But worse was, they forcefully took all our children away and sent them to boarding schools to be educated to good, faithful and Christian Norwegians, who only spoke Norwegian. Our own language was banned, our own religion was strictly tabu. And we obliged, becoming the silent people, just making ourselves as inconspicuous as possible to end up in the long term as second-class Norwegians, who happened to have a darker complexion and were discriminated. We simply became the unwanted people!”

“But they can’t just do that!” Mihkkel cried out, really angry now.

His grandfather sighed, looked at the boy and smiled when he saw the same anger he had felt when he was a young, hot-headed and tameless boy of about his grandson’s age. And what was funny: he had seen it again in the boy’s mother when she was young. It seemed to be a genetically determined family quality.

“No, they can’t but they simply did it!” were the only words he could find.

Somehow it made him sad: yes, he had fought for the rights of his people, was thrown from school and even jailed for making rebellious speeches against the school principal and the local authorities, but he had never given up. Now, in the present times, he knew his people had more or less won the fight. For what it was worth, the present King had publicly offered his sincere apologies on behalf of himself and the Norwegian people for the pain they made the Sami to endure in all these centuries. The government had outlawed discrimination and had even given his people certain privileges. It was a battle that his beloved grandson didn’t have to continue. But in all his wisdom the old man knew, that the boy had a totally different war to fight, his own personal war against ignorance, condemnation and silence. These were sad thoughts, but despite that he smiled, because when he looked at the boy, he knew he was cut from the right family stuff!

“How about that portrait, my boy?” he asked cheerful, just to change the subject.

Mihkkel looked at the drawing, that was partly finished and then glanced at his watch.

“Well…”, he said somewhat disappointed, “It won’t be for today, I’m afraid. I’m not saying that our talk was wasted time, but I did lose a lot of time in talking. And I still have to make my homework and make something to eat. I’m afraid I have to finish it another time, if you don’t mind”.

“Not at all”, the old man chuckled, “I’m always happy to have you around me. Will Saturday afternoon do?”

It looked as if the boy startled and he started to mutter clumsily:

“Well, grandpa…if you don’t mind…we uhmmm…I…I agreed to see Eidno next Saturday, so…it’s not exactly convenient”.

The old bony, wrinkled hand stroked the boy’s long black hair and the old man said:

“No, I will not be the mean, crooked old man that destroys all that youthful happiness! Then let’s arrange it for next Wednesday if that is okay with you”.

“Thank you, grandpa”, Mihkkel answered with gleaming eyes. Then he spontaneously hugged the old man, pushed his adolescent-style beard-to-be in the grey, three days stubble of his grandfather and kissed the man on both cheeks.

“You are the sweetest grandfather in the world!” he whispered.

The old man kissed the boy as well and deeply moved he was only able to reply with choked up voice:

“And you are the sweetest grandson in the world””

 

The bank of the Tana River, near Karasjoki, Finnmark, July 2013

 

Despite popular beliefs of many people living in more southern latitudes the Arctic is not always a frozen wasteland. Summer can be very pleasant over there, with the geese returning from the south to do their mating and breeding, with lots of birds singing and Arctic flowers with their bright colors growing in abundance on the low rolling green hills. In the summer the whole Arctic teems with life! There are actually days when it can be pretty hot. It is not to say it is a daily returning occurrence but even these northern areas have days, when the temperature breaks through the thirty degrees mark, that is: in Celsius!

This Saturday promised to become one of these hot days. During the weekends Mihkkel was a notorious late sleeper, having no problems with lingering in his bed for most of the morning, often coming out at noon. His mother had commented this habit often with a smile, saying:

“Must be the artist in you!”

Mihkkel settled those remarks mostly with a shrug, deeming it as one of those funny and unfounded prejudices about artists. As if all of them were in bed most of the day and drinking in the pub for most of the night.

But when he opened his eyes that early morning and saw the sun shining exuberantly, he knew that this was not a day to turn over and sleep on. It would be by far too hot to stay under the blanket, so he decided to raise early.

“Pity mum has already gone to work” he thought smiling. She would be shocked to see her son walking around at seven on a Saturday morning. Still, he had to consider how he would spend this long day.

While doing so he made coffee and took some bread for his breakfast. Then his cell phone rang. He looked on the small screen who that could be so early and with a smile he saw it was Eidno!

He pressed the accept button and almost yelled out of joy:

“Hei…!”

“Hei, Mihkkel, tell me: what are you doing this beautiful day?”

“Pfff…man,” he replied, “I was just thinking about that. Haven’t decided yet”.

“Then how about going to the river, the two of us. Bit of swimming and perfecting our tans. How does that grab you?”

“Don’t you have training today?” Mihkkel asked surprised.

“No”, came the fast reply, “Dad scrapped it. It’s too hot. The dogs would run themselves into the ground because they overheat. So…I’m off today. Well, you like the idea?”

“Yeah, great!” Mihkkel said excited, “About ten? Have to take a shower and do some chores first”.

“Fine”, Eidno said, “We meet at the gas station?”

Mihkkel agreed and with a “See you later” broke the connection.

He took his first sip of hot coffee with a broad smile on his face and with glistening eyes. And he couldn’t ignore the twitchy feeling in his belly and the excited sensations in his groin.

 

They met at the gas station and together they walked at leisure to the river shore, to the place that they had started to consider as “their own spot”.

It was a lovely and quiet clearing on a small sandy beach, surrounded by dense bushes and lots of spruces with here and there the white bark of a birch shining through. There was a soft breeze coming from the river and the sunlight filtered through the many pine needles on the branches. All around them birds were singing. They both simply loved the place.

They spread their towels in the sand and undressed, both standing in their swimming trunks in a very short time, and lied down to enjoy the sun. For a while there was innocent chitchat, about class mates and teachers, about dogs and about the latest gossip in town.

Eidno turned lazily around to lay on his belly, explaining the move with a smile when he said:

“I have to consider the tan on my back as well!”

“Good idea”, Mihkkel replied, “I always forget that”.

Eidno grinned, showing his brilliant white teeth while his steel-blue eyes sparkled and said:

“You know, it really looks dumb to be tanned up front and being like a milk bottle on your back”.

Both laughed and started snoozing in the hot sun.

Mihkkel opened his eyes and gazed secretively to the body next to him. He admired the smooth, tanned skin, that was strained over the graceful but at the same time powerful muscles of the shoulders and the arms. He reveled at the sight of the long blond hair, contrasting with the tan of the skin and waiving a bit in the breeze. It seemed to lighten up in the sunlight. He tried to look lower unnoticed, his eyes following the line of Eidno`s spine and noticed that the boy had a cute crisp ass, that was clearly visible in the tight swimming trunks.

Somehow Mihkkel felt relieved he was lying on his belly. It hid the pretty clear bulge in his own small swimming suit, saving him a lot of embarrassment and shame.

The sun climbed to the zenith and started to move to the west. Its light started to shine directly upon them, no longer filtered by the cover of the trees. It became really hot!

Mihkkel wriggled uncomfortably on his belly. The bare tip of his dick pushed in the elastic of his swimming short and it started to hurt. He had no idea how he could avoid the painful feeling. But as luck would have it Eidno said:

“It’s too hot to stay here. Let’s go cool off in the river and when we return shift a bit into the shadow”.

Mihkkel sighed with relief. That was a good suggestion. Only problem he had to solve right now was how to get into the river without Eidno noticing his aroused state. But he managed by carefully staying behind his friend when he ran into the water.

They did what all young kids do when they are in cool water on a hot summer day: they swam a little, but mostly they were chasing each other, wrestling to get the other head under or just splashing water at one another. After a while they got tired from running hip deep through the water and they waded back to the shore. Both picked up their towel and started to wipe the water off their bodies.

It gave Mihkkel a chance to see Eidno up front. His eyes were immediately drawn to the wet swimming short, that sticked to the skin, showing a big bulge at the place where Eidno`s…

“Don’t think about it”, it flashed through his head, “You’ll only get another hardon if you think about it”.

But he was too late. His own tree started to grow again and shyly he turned a bit to get it out of Eidno’s view. He looked at Eidno, to check if his friend had noticed what had happened, and accidentally looked directly in the steel-blue eyes. They had a look that Mihkkel had never seen before in all those ten years they knew each other: they smoldered with a mix of warmth, challenge and shyness and, not the least component of it all, of seduction!

Instinctively Mihkkel felt, that they were at the verge of breaking an unwritten but very important rule. He yearned to break that rule but at the same time he was overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty.

He attempted to regain a normal stance and lied down on his towel. Eidno lied down beside him, but funny enough much and much closer than before they had gone swimming. Mihkkel could feel Eidno’s hip pressing against his. He felt, how the boy’s body warmth seeped through the two thin layers of fabric and loved every second of it.

Without any warning cough or announcing “Hey…” Eidno suddenly asked:

“Do you like me?”

“No,” Mihkkel’s heart screamed: “I don’t like you, I love you, damned!”

“What a dumb question” he heard himself say, “Do you think we would be friends for over ten years if I didn’t like you?”

“Hmmm”, was Eidno’s only reaction.

For a while there was silence, as if both were struggling to find words. But then Eidno bluntly asked:

“Do you find me attractive?”

That did it: all Mihkkel’s restraint crumbled like a building in an earthquake and the only feeling left was raw desire!

“Yes…”, he whispered, “You’re not just attractive but you are breathtaking!”

Eidno smiled shyly.

“But…”, Mihkkel asked uncertain, “Do you find me attractive enough? Compared to you I’m just a troll”.

“No”, Eidno said softly, “Unless you are a very beautiful troll, I don’t know if these exist. And I adore your eyes. They are so beautiful dark brown and they are as deep as the fjords”.

Mihkkel couldn’t hold it back any longer:

“Eidno, may I…oh shit, this is so difficult!”

“What is difficult, my love?” Eidno asked.

“To ask. I don’t know what you will answer”, Mihkkel replied almost in desperation.

“Just ask!”, Eidno said smiling, “Worst thing that can happen, is that I say no”.

“But I fear your no!” Mihkkel cried out.

Eidno laughed and replied:

“Then you better find out if I say yes!”

“OK”, Mihkkel sighed. He dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper and asked:

“May I kiss you?”

Equally inaudible Eidno answered:

“Yes!”

Deep brown eyes stared in steel-blue eyes, as well as the other way around, and agonizingly slowly their heads came nearer and nearer to each other. Finally, hungry, sensitive lips touched hungry, sensitive lips.

It was their first kiss, that first kiss that no one forgets in his lifetime, that two-way transfer point of intense emotions, that were akin to high voltage electricity.

Both moaned softly when their lips touched, experiencing the sensation with closed eyes but still seeing the other vividly in their minds.

After their lips parted Mihkkel opened his eyes. The first thing they saw were Eidno`s steel-blue eyes and they read an unspoken question in them.

“Wow, that was…beautiful!” he whispered, still mighty impressed by the kiss.

Eidno said nothing and smiled, but the question remained in his eyes. There was no way Mihkkel’s mind could understand what the boy wanted to ask but his heart said “yes” and instinctively he nodded in approval to whatever it was.

He soon found out: without a word Eidno slid his hand over Mihkkel’s breast, stroked his nipples tenderly and went down over the belly towards the extensive bulge in Mihkkel’s swimming short. Their eyes remained locked!

Eidno’s uncertainty was tangible when his fingers reached the bulge but it seemed he overcame it and his fingertips cautiously slid over the hard shape under the texture, his lips smiling and his eyes sparkling while he did so. Then he hissed:

“I want to see you!”

Mihkkel didn’t understand it: he was right in front of his friend so he assumed he was visible enough.

“I’m here!” he simply muttered.

“That’s not what I mean”, Eidno whispered, “I want…how do I say it…I want to see you completely. Including the…euuhhh…the parts that are always covered up”.

A kind of mischievous smile came on Mihkkel’s face when he replied:

“Then you’d better tear the cover off!”

Eidno needed no further encouragement and started to tear down Mihkkel’s swimming suit. When it slid down the hard phallus jumped into freedom as if it were another spruce in the small forest around them. While Eidno did so Mihkkel’s eyes were drawn to Eidno`s crotch and in all his innocence the boy marveled when he saw the damp dick tip sticking over the waistband of the small trunk.

“Hihi”, he giggled, “You got a hardon as well!”

Eidno smiled with feverish eyes, while his fingertips reconnoitered Mihkkel’s erected penis by stroking it softly over the shaft and the tip, making an excursion to the balls so every now and then. Without thinking Mihkkel spread his legs slightly. Eidno immediately took the hint, kneeled between the legs and bent over. With a tenderness he wouldn’t have expected Mihkkel felt the soft tissue of Eidno’s lips kissing his dickhead, while the blue eyes were firmly aimed at his own brown eyes.

“My sweetest friend,” he asked shyly, “I want to touch it! May I? Please?”

“Yeeessss!” Eidno answered teasingly.

Mihkkel let one fingertip carefully slide over Eidno`s belly but it stopped just short of the objective it was searching for. The desire was there, only thing that failed, was the balls to do it!

“Touch it!” Eidno whispered, “Please…?”

Encouraged by the invitation Mihkkel took the last step and cautiously his finger stroked over the swollen dick tip with an enormous tenderness.

“It feels a bit damp”, he snickered.

“Then unpack it”, Eidno panted excited.

Mihkkel tore the swimming short off and found himself deeply impressed by what he found.

“Oh, dear” he exclaimed, “I’ve never seen such a beautiful one!”

Eidno looked at him laughing and asked:

“How many did you see then?”

Mihkkel blushed and stammered:

“As a matter of fact: none, apart from my own”.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight. In his view it was huge and thick, with a beautiful flaring head.

He looked at his own densely grown playground and said:

“Your’s has less hair that mine”.

“So what?” Eidno said, “Yeah, I guess it has. Besides: being blond my hair is lighter, also down under. That makes it harder to see in the sun”.

“And it’s larger than mine”, Mihkkel said, somewhat disappointed by his own utensil.

“Doesn’t matter”, Eidno said softly, “I love yours as it is! You like mine?”

Mihkkel nodded frantically, bent over as well and also kissed the head. He tasted something he didn’t know, a sweet creamy taste. He looked at the dick and discovered a tiny pool of colorless, slicky liquid at the pee slit.

“Already cumming, my love?” he asked giggling.

“Noooo”, Eidno groaned, “Not yet. But I admit: it won’t take long. You made me rearing!”

Mihkkel licked his lips, took the whole head in his mouth without questioning and started to suck it gently. The fluids, he tasted before, increased, seeping on his tongue droplet by droplet. He savored the taste with closed eyes. At reopening them he looked up, seeing the muscles in Eidno’s abdomen contract and release, only to contract another time, the sequence being repeated again and again. His ears heard the soft whining and panting. Eidno threw his head in his neck, made some kind of growling sound and at exactly that moment it felt as if the fountain of youth exploded in Mihkkel’s mouth. Blot after blot after blot were squirted in the small space and, although he tried to swallow it all, some of it trickled out of the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, damned”, Eidno panted, “This felt so blissful!”.

Then he got up, saw the trickles of his sperm on Mihkkel’s chin and started to lick them off with still burning eyes.

“I love you!” the blond boy said softly.

“I love you too”, Mihkkel was only able to reply.

“Since when then?” Eidno asked, seemingly astonished.

“Pfff…”, Mihkkel said, considering it shortly, “I guess for…about a year. Maybe somewhat shorter, but about a year”.

“You never told me!” Eidno muttered in surprise.

“I didn’t dare to”, Mihkkel said with a shrug.

A lovely smile came over Eidno’s face when he said:

“Neither did I!”

“Now I think of it…” Mihkkel said, “I did tell you”.

Eidno looked at him in amazement and blurted out:

“And when was that? Because I can’t remember it”.

“I told it in the drawing I made of Migás”, Mihkkel answered with a mysterious smile, “Just take a good look at it when you’re at home”.

“I sure will”, Eidno said, still catching his breath from what he had just experienced for the very first time.

Eidno cupped his hands behind Mihkkel’s neck and drew his head nearer, kissing him again. But the boy expanded his discovery tour when he pushed his tongue between Mihkkel’s lips, searching for the other tongue. Both found each other and danced around in a delicate, loving ballet. It was beyond imagination!

After a long tongue kiss Eidno looked in Mihkkil’s eyes again and breathed:

“Do you wanna feel what I just felt?”

“Yeeeahhhh”, Mihkkel panted.

“Then just lie down, relax, close your eyes and enjoy it”, Eidno said.

Mihkkel did as was told. Immediately he felt Eidno’s lips around his dickhead and he groaned, when he found out how delightful the feeling was. He felt Eidno’s tongue circling the head’s rim and softly tickling at the pee slit.

“Oooh God...go on!” he sighed, “This is pure magic!”

Eidno continued, sucking softly at the hyper-sensitive head. With each suck Mihkkel felt the pressure inside him rise. His balls seemed to burn with an urge to empty themselves.

“Oh…sweetheart”, he cried out, “I can’t hold it back any longer! I can’t hold it back!”

Undisturbed by this heart cry, Eidno sucked on relentlessly and then...the release simply came!

Mihkkel felt the convulsions all over his body. His arms and legs were spastically beating around him and that one body part, that had its own life, vibrated, knocked and pulsed.

He yelled at the incredible deliverance, feeling the desire to re-live it again and again.

Eidno looked at him smiling. He had spilled nothing. Not a drop was seen on his chin. He bent over, his lips ending up above Mihkkel’s lips, and kissed him, again pushing his tongue between them.

“Mmmmmmmm”, Mihkkel sighed, tasting his own sperm that entered his mouth with the kiss.

“That’s how you taste, my love”, Eidno whispered, “And I love the taste of it!”

Both fell on their back, their desires extinguished and most of their energy spent. They stayed on the small beach for a couple of hours, snoozing or sitting shoulder to shoulder. So every now and then they chatted, looked in each other’s warm eyes or kissed. Or they just lied down, both re-experiencing their adventure of the afternoon before.

The sun was sinking slowly and Eidno looked to the west, where it was just disappearing behind the trees.

“I thought it was getting kind of chilly. The sun is setting. What time is it?” he asked.

Mihkkel glanced at his watch and replied:

“Shortly before six!”

It seemed the answer was some kind of shock to Eidno, because he jumped up and started dressing, exclaiming:

“Ups, have to run, man! There will be hell to pay if I’m late for dinner”.

It made Mihkkel laugh. He also rose and dressed. Before they left their own spot along the river bank they kissed.

“Better do it here than in the middle of town!” Eidno commented, “I love you!”

With a celestial smile Mihkkel answered:

“I love you too!”

They took hands and walked back to the town, making sure their hands separated before they entered it.

 

Eidno was home dead on time for dinner. The whole family was eating when his father asked:

“Well, son. Enjoyed your unplanned day off?”

His mouth full with a piece of meat he just nodded with a “Hmm hmm”.

“What did you do?” his father asked.

“Went swimming in the river with Mihkkel”, he said.

“And did you boys enjoy yourselves?” his mother jumped in.

“You bet we did!” Eidno said with a broad, dreamy smile on his face.

As soon as he was excused, he ran upstairs, taking two or three steps at a time. He ran into his room and started to study the drawing above his bed. His scanned it millimeter by millimeter but found nothing that looked like what Mihkkel had implied to this afternoon.

“In the eyes maybe?” he muttered, thinking of Mihkkel’s fjord-like eyes.

He studied the eyes in the drawing. The only thing that he could determine, was that they were drawn with great skill. They rendered the exact look of Migás’s eyes in real life, expressing the will to please and the eagerness to work. But there was nothing to be found that might be a declaration of love. He was about to give it up.

Coincidentally his eye fell on the signature, the stylized M with the rest of the name following it. Under it was the place and the year it was made. And only then he saw something peculiar:

Under the line with place and year something was scribbled in very small, unreadable letters. He tried to read it, to no avail. He almost pushed his nose on the drawing in another attempt, again without result.

“Wait a minute!” he softly said.

He walked to his small desk, opened the drawer and took his magnifier out. Then he started an attempt to decipher the small writing. It was a rather long line and it took a lot of time. To begin with he found that the first letter was a “w”. He wrote it on a yellow pad, just to avoid that he would forget it so that he had to start all over again. But in the end letter by letter was deciphered, the meaning making him utter under his breath:

“He was right! He did say it!”

The undecipherable line read:

“With all my love for my sweetest”.

Eidno felt thrilled. He smiled at the dog’s head in black and white, praising himself lucky with all that was said and done this afternoon. With dreamy eyes he stared out of the bedroom window, where the sun was just barely hovering above the horizon, spreading an orange hue over the small town.

“We’re no longer friends, Mihkkel”, he murmured, “We’re lovers now!”