Full Circle - 1. 1995

31 AUGUST 1995

Sudden moonlight hit the tent’s canvass roof, softly illuminating the interior. Mark saw then what he had known anyway, that Brad lay awake staring at him. He had been doing the same thing in the darkness, but witnessing his best friend brought a smile to his face and an excited tremble to his stomach. When Brad smiled back, the moonlight glinting in his eye, Mark’s heart all but melted. Last night, they had both listened to Kylie Minogue’s new album on their Walkman to pass the time, sharing earplugs and playing the track Confide In Me over and over. Tonight, their last night away from home, the tension between them allowed no such diversion.

“Do you think they’re asleep yet?” asked Mark, his voice a whisper.

For the second night running, they had agreed to wait an hour until both sets of parents in their respective tents had fallen asleep. Mark had no idea an hour of quiet could last a lifetime.

“Mine are,” said Brad. “Not sure about yours.”

“How do you know?”

“I hear snoring.”

“Your dad snores?”

“No, my mum.”

Mark muffled his loud fit of giggles against the rim of his sleeping bag.

“Shhh,” came Brad’s voice, also trying hard to suppress his own laughter. “Don’t wake them.”

“Sorry.”

Once again they lay there in comfortable silence, listening to the nights sounds of the woodland camping ground beneath the mountain peak of Cadair Idris, in Snowdonia. Mark loved simply being there with his friend, miles from the city, and able to steal some moments together.

“How stupid is this?” murmured Brad, rolling onto his back, a tantrum Mark had heard many times raising its head. “I’m sixteen and you’re not far behind. We should be able to go on holiday on our own. Do whatever we want. Without having to trail around after them.”

“We talked about this, and we will one day. But neither of us can drive yet. And we both need to save whatever money we have for college. After that, it’s just you and me, Chewie”

Once again, the moon had disappeared behind a cloud, filling the space with darkness. But Mark heard Brad roll over and shuffle nearer to him.

“You and me, Solo. I can’t fucking wait.”

Mark loved the nickname Brad had given him, warmed him that only Brad ever used the name, a reference to his surname, Falconer, and to the captain of the Star Wars starship, Millennium Falcon. Brad—always bigger, taller, and broader in stature—was Mark’s Chewie to his Solo.

From across the darkness, a forefinger reached out and caressed the horizontal line of his lips, a habit Brad had recently favoured. On the third gentle stroke, Mark opened his mouth and sucked on the finger. Brad’s breath hiked in, and the next thing he knew, Brad’s body came crushing into his.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, before pushing his lips against Mark’s. Of late, they’d taken their time kissing, slowly exploring each other’s mouths with tongues, venturing to kiss other parts of each other’s body, discovering the effectiveness of this form of foreplay. Mark felt his semi hard erection bursting to escape his underpants. A soft moan of complaint escaped him when Brad finally brought their lips apart.

“Give me your hand,” said Brad, breathing heavily.

“What?”

“Just give me your hand. Please.”

Mark did as asked and Brad led the hand down along his sleeping bag until his fingers touched the hot erection poking out. Brad’s penis was as impressively large as Brad himself, and Mark could barely get his fingers all the way around the girth. But whenever he did, Brad became putty in his hands, a big sloppy teddy bear who would do anything Mark wanted. Tonight Mark squeezed a couple of times, bringing panted breaths and soft moans from his friend, before beginning to slowly stroke the impressive length, the way Brad enjoyed.

“Can I touch you, too?” asked Brad.

“Of course you can.” He loved how Brad always asked for permission. “Help yourself.”

Without another word, Brad’s hand delved into his sleeping bag and descended to Mark’s erection.

“Hey, not fair,” said Brad, his face hovering over Mark’s. “You’re wearing pants.”

“It’s cold at night.”

Even though unusually hot weather had swept the British Isles that summer, the temperature near the river and at the foot of the mountain ranges dropped significantly at night.

“So get your butt in here. And get those boxers off.”

Which is what Mark did, removing his underwear along the way, until they were both crushed naked together. With Brad’s size, not much room remained for Mark to manoeuvre inside the single sleeping bag. Had they not been in such a hurry, he would have suggested zipping the two bags into one. Despite the tight space the proximity proved warm and snug, with them both now able to kiss each other while Brad took both their cocks in his big hand, mutually satisfying them both, using their precum as lubrication. Each already aroused to boiling point, they came within minutes almost at the same moment. Brad managed to catch most of their load but some escaped onto the inside of the bag. After Mark grabbed a pack of antiseptic wipes, they each cleaned the other one up, smiling happily as they dabbed at each other.

Finally, they lay down to rest, breathless, Brad guiding Mark to turn over, so that he could spoon him, they way he liked. This small act left Mark feeling boneless; cherished and protected. Brad’s steady breathing against his neck told him he was not ready for sleep yet, had something on his mind.

“Mark?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about us doing more?”

“More what?”

“You know, going further together?”

Mark thought that maybe one day they would get around to doing more, and he knew Brad had a fierce appetite for more but would be patient with him. The truth was he had no idea what to do and that thought alone both scared and excited him. He had certainly had fantasies about having Brad inside him. But what terrified him more was losing Brad because he shied away from experimenting with the friend he had come to love.

“With you, definitely. But can you wait until we’re at college? We’ll both be over eighteen then, and legal. We’ll also have our own privacy to do anything we want.”

Even as he spoke, he knew his reasoning sounded a little lame. Part of him felt guilty because he had used the argument before, to encourage Brad to keep up his grades so that they could eventually head to the same college in York. And now he wondered if he had begun to sound like one of those girls at school who refused to put out until her boyfriend proved himself worthy. Like his father, Brad had a natural talent for more physical rather than cerebral activities and had been in the football teams in each of their schools, usually as goalkeeper. Mark supported him at every game but also patiently helped and encouraged him with his homework and studies—much to his mother’s delight—and so far Brad had achieved above average grades. When Brad got some complicated equation or correctly interpreted a passage of Shakespeare, Mark had always been the one to encourage him with a beaming smile, a hug or a high five. They had spent the past few years planning their future together; Brad would study physical education and sport while Mark would immerse himself in law. Both of them would rent a small flat near campus in York. And eventually, both would have the conversation with their parents.

“Unless I’m being selfish. And you want to try other things with other people.”

Even as he said the words, they twisted like a knife in his stomach, the same spot Brad’s arm tightened around him.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m not blind, Brad. I see the way girls—and some boys—stare at you. The last thing I want is for you to feel that I’m holding you back, and for you to regret the time you’ve spent with me—”

“Mark, stop. Don’t ever say that. Yes, I’ve had offers. At the end of last term, Janice Morganson backed me into a corner and came on to me big time. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to say. She’s a really nice girl—I like her a lot—but I knew I didn’t want her that way. And then right at that moment, you walked around the corner chatting with Mr Francis, the science teacher. Bet you don’t even remember. Janice noticed, because she saw the smile on my face and must have realised then she didn’t have a hope in hell. It’s men for me, Mark. And I’m sorry, but my heart picks you. No matter where I find myself, it’ll always be you that I come back to.”

“Me too, Brad. It’s always going to be you.”

“You know, in five years we enter a new millennium, and if all the computers don’t stop and the world comes to an end as predicted, maybe people will become more accepting of each other and of people like you and me. One day we might even be able to get married to each other.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Mark’s father had used that expression recently talking about his football team—Manchester United’s—chances of overtaking the team ten points ahead in the Premier league. Brad laughed quietly behind him, but inside Mark lit up at the idea. After a moment of quiet, he brought his arm to rest on top of Brad’s.

“Mum and dad are driving down to see my aunt Jess next weekend. They won’t take Bobbi because he’s getting old now and doesn’t like long car rides. So I offered to stay home to look after him, feed him and take him for walks. Do you think your mum would let you sleep over?”

“You know she will,” said Brad, his voice a little puzzled. “She thinks your a good influence.”

“I am,” said Mark. “And after we’ve done our studies, maybe we could try going a little further.”

A sudden hike in Brad’s breathing almost had Mark laughing, followed quickly by something hot and hard resting against the crack of his backside.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You don’t have to. I really don’t mind holding off until college.”

“But I know you want to, and I’m also going to burst if I have to wait much longer.”

“I mean it though, Mark.” Brad nuzzled the back of Mark’s neck. “The most important thing to me is that we’ve found each other. I read in one of my mum’s magazine that some people go their whole lives without finding someone. I just know we’ll always be in each other’s lives.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Mark did, too. Some people mistook them for brothers, because they got on so well, even though they looked nothing like each other. Everything felt so right when they were together, as though they had both been given a special gift. Mark loved that Brad felt the same way.

“I didn’t tell you. Your mum asked me if I was seeing anyone special. While we stopped for coffee at the service station, and you and your dad went for a pee.”

“Did she? What did you say?”

“I told her the truth.”

Mark held his breath and waited.

“I told her that I am. I’m seeing someone very special.”

This time, Mark turned carefully over so that they were lying face to face. Unable to resist, he leant forward and kissed Brad lightly on the lips.

“And what did she say?”

“She says she wants to meet her one day.”

Mark let out a tired sigh and rested his head against Brad’s neck.

“I wonder what they’ll say when we tell them.”

Before long, Mark heard Brad’s breathing slow and knew he had fallen asleep. He set his Casio watch to wake him at six, before his parents woke, so that he could get back to his own sleeping bag. For now, though, he enjoyed being folded up in Brad.

Funny, they had always been close. But the physical connection had only happened a year ago. And now Mark could barely go a day without needing a dose of Brad. Sometimes he wondered if he knew his friend better than he knew himself. The way he pushed his bottom lip out and blew hair at his fringe when he was concentrating; the gentle way he placed his big paw on Mark’s forearm when he wanted to get his attention; they way he loved to jump up and dance to music but had no sense of rhythm or timing at all; or the way his eyes seemed to change colour, to become almost black, when he wanted to touch Mark. Whatever it took, he was going to make sure Brad did as well in his A levels as he had in his O’s.

And then the future would be theirs.

******

They broke camp at eight the next morning. While the mothers cooked breakfast, both fathers agreed on the route home, to take the faster motorway, rather than the more scenic but much slower route down the Welsh coastline. Mark’s father had driven the journey a number of times so they agreed to him leading the way. They would stop for a comfort break at the service station near Leamington Spa, just after the halfway mark.

Brad wanted Mark to ride with him and his family, but with all their camping equipment, they had no spare room in either car. Happily, Brad’s mother volunteered to take the back seat, so Brad sat up front with his father. Mark, on the back seat of their car, spent most of the first hour staring out the back window, either making faces or just staring longingly at a smiling Brad.

Mark had been drowsing when their car skidded violently to the right, jerking him awake. Both his mother and father were talking frantically at the same time, she shouting for him to pull over. As they came to a stop on the hard shoulder, his father immediately leapt out of the car.

“What’s happening?”

She was in the process of opening the passenger door.

“There’s been an accident,” she said, over her shoulder. “Stay in the car.”

Mark immediately looked back and saw mayhem. A large truck lay on its side like a slain dragon, smoke coming from somewhere behind. Other cars slowed down, their hazard lights flashing a warning. Some cars pulled up on the hard shoulder in front of them. He understood why his mother had gone. She’d trained as a nurse so would be able to offer first aid medical assistance for anyone hurt until the ambulances arrived.

Ten minutes later, his mother returned and opened the back door on his side. He began to ask a question but before he could say a word, she pulled him into her arms.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” she said, sobbing and holding him tight. For a moment, he wondered what on earth she was doing, until cold realisation dawned on him.

“My poor darling baby boy.”