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    Talo Segura
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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. 

Camp Echo - The Missing Chapters - 2. Adam

"You met him where?"

Max was looking hard at Aeriol.

"It doesn't matter. We're invited to this gig tonight."

Obviously Aeriol was not about to say where or how they'd met, which irritated Max, because he was always bringing someone new home. Maybe Max was jealous, but that wasn't something he was about to admit, not even to himself.

"So this guy plays in a band?"

"Yes, Max. He plays in a gay band and we're on the guest list for tonight."

"He's gay then?"

Max needed confirmation.

"I don't know, I never asked. He's sixteen."

Max gulped, thinking, barely legal and sweet sixteen at the same time.

"So you coming?" Aeriol asked him.

"Where is it?"

"Jackson's Lane," Aeriol grinned.

"Not a big band then. What are they called?"

He really wasn't decided if he'd go or not, but it did seem like an occasion had presented itself. An evening of music with a gay band. Now, that was different.

"Outsmart," Aeriol replied.

Max rolled the name around in his head.

"They any good?"

"For fuck's sake Max, how the hell would I know. I'm not their fucking manager, I just met him."

"You want some tea," Max flicked on the kettle he'd been filling whilst they were having this indepth discussion.

Aeriol stared at him and continued putting together the joint he was working on.

"Sure," he said, as he licked the little strip of gum along the edge of the cigarette paper. Funny how it always tasted mildly disgusting, he thought.

Max poured the hot water over the tea bags that hung suspended like delicate origami parcels on a thread draped over the edge of each mug. There was a time when everyone used tea leaves and a tea strainer, not any longer.

He moved over to take a seat opposite Aeriol, passing his mug of hot tea across the kitchen table.

"Bet he's nice looking," Max smiled as he sipped his tea and watched Aeriol light the now finished splif.

"He's sixteen, Max. What do you think?"

Aeriol inhaled and held it, before blowing the smoke out, up towards the ceiling. Max accepted the proffered joint, flicked off the ash and took a long toke. He didn't reply to the question, it just hung there in the air between them. Rather like his consciousness which seemed to swim around the room. Aeriol watched him and smiled.

 

"There's a big crowd outside for an unknown band," Max observed as they crossed at the lights.

"An unknown gay band," Aeriol reminded him.

They jumped the queue and went straight to the door where some burly coloured guy in a black jacket that he'd probably never be able to button up around his chest, stopped them.

"You are?" The guy scowled at them as if he were about to pick up two lightweight fairies and send them flying.

Aeriol tried his macho assertiveness. "Aeriol, plus one," he told him, nodding at the piece of paper the big guy had in his hand.

Slowly, like a lumbering giant plodding his way forward, he checked the list, looked up, and let them through, the scowl never leaving his face.

"What was his problem?" Max asked, as they made there way along the old church hall.

"He's a bouncer. What do you expect? Intelligence and a liberal embrace."

Max let it drop.

The place was already half full and judging by the queue outside would soon be packed. The two of them settled for a space a little way back from the front, off to the side, which gave a good view of the stage.

There was not too long to wait before the group, there were four of them, emerged from the wings. An eruption of loud applause, whistles, and raucous cheering echoed deafeningly through the old church.

A light picked out the main guy, centre stage, must be in his late twenties. Wearing a thin black tie, waistcoat, black trousers. Max thought he noticed a little pink triangle on the waistcoat. His hand went up as if to shield his eyes from the sun and he peered out into the crowd.

"I'm Tom," he turned to his right where another guy with curly black hair and holding a guitar stood. "This is Micky on the guitar."

A chord sounded as the guy flicked his thumb across the strings, the electric sound vibrating from the speakers, his foot hit the wah wah pedal.

Sweeping his arm further around behind him Tom introduced Arnie, who stood up behind his drums and gave a little drum roll.

Doing a one hundred and eighty degree pirouette, Tom turned around and looked over at the keyboards. "And Adam our newest member on keyboards."

Adam did not stand up, he seemed almost to hide behind his keyboard, but he did play a few notes.

"And we are... OUTSMART."

Tom shouted the name across the ranks of the audience who responded with more loud cheering and shrieking. Then they launched into their first number. It was a lively evening, or as lively as it gets with a mediocre band in a quasi village hall, where there's no alcohol. One song Tom sung got everyone joining in and bouncing around, a sort of gay anthem.

Max doubted the reception would have been quite as good if it wasn't for them being a gay band. But, so what, he thought, it's great to be out amongst a sweaty mass of loud and happy gays and lesbians.

When the show had finished, after two encours, the band left the stage and Aeriol grabed Max, pushing him towards the wings and improvised changing room. In no time at all the hall reverted back to the empty space it was before, with that weird air that you get in churches. Aeriol congratulated Tom, and the other two, then moved over to say hello to Adam.

Max was right there with him, nodding and smiling.

"Shit, what's that," he taped Aeriol's arm and pointed at Adam.

Two large reptilian eyes blinked at him. Adam gave a shy smile as he gently scooped the lizard into his hands.

"Do you always hang out with a lizard on your shoulder?" Max returned the smile, ever so slightly enamoured by the boy. He took in the jacket, slim frame, short hair, and round boyish face.

"He's a pet," Adam explained, as if the presence of the reptile had to be justified.

Max tried a little more conversation, but Adam didn't seem to be very outgoing. Much too reserved, he thought. The one bit of information he did get was that Adam was an only child. It was all the more amazing to Max, that the three of them found themselves outside standing together on the steps of the church. Maybe he'd been distracted, but apparently Aeriol had invited Adam back. Max learned later, he'd extended the invitation to crash at their place because Adam lived somewhere south of South London. In other words, he had a long journey home.

Once back at the flat it was decided, all be it, much later in the night, that Adam could sleep upstairs in Aeriol's room. With Aeriol? Max thought probably, but he wasn't certain. Adam was simply a very cute, shy, sixteen year old, who didn't give off any gay vibes. But he was into getting stoned, talking bollocks about mysticism into the early hours of the next day, and coming up with a few surprises.

Max discovered that as well as being vegetarian, Adam was into macrobiotics. Not something he'd discovered himself, but his parents followed the teachings of George Oshawa. There was another discovery Max would make, but that revelation came later.

 

"So you sleep okay?" Max asked Adam.

The boy looked up from his bowl of organic, sugar free, muesli, and nodded. Nothing much had change overnight then. Still the same quiet introvert. Breakfast was properly lunch, or maybe brunch, as the Americans coined the label for eating between breakfast and lunch. They'd gotten up late. It was gone half past eleven by the time everyone was in the kitchen eating. It was practically a silent affair. Like when you turn on the bright lights, daytime brought with it a return to reality and a fading of the magic. Whether that feeling was really to do with the light of day or simply not being stoned is open for debate.

Aeriol and Max walked Adam to the bus stop, giving him instructions on how to get the tube from Finsbury Park to Kings Cross. He assured them he new his way home from there to the leafy suburbia of South London and one of its posher neighbourhoods.

It was much later in the afternoon when Aeriol posed the inevitable question. "So what you think about Adam?"

"Haha, why you asking me?" Max replied.

"Just wondered."

"Me too. I just wondered if you slept with him."

"Max!" Aeriol exclaimed, with a feigned tone of indignation.

"Well?"

"I'm not sure I should say," Aeriol grinned mischeviously.

"Don't then. Who cares," Max went to stand up.

"Oh, sit down. I'm only winding you up."

Max sat back down and stared at Aeriol.

"No. I didn't. I'm not even sure if he's gay."

"Did you ask him how come he's in a gay band? I mean it's kind of the big question."

Aeriol scratched his head as if thinking about that statement.

"Yeah, actually I did."

"And?"

"Well his answer didn't answer the question exactly. He replied to a wanted ad in the NME, did an audition, and they wanted him. He is actually a damn good keyboard player. He told me his passion is for jazz. Apparently, he studied under Stan somebody or other, a famous jazz musician."

"You seeing him again?"

"Yeah, I think so. He said he'd call."

This time Max did get up. He moved around the kitchen opening cupboards, before finally turning back to Aeriol.

"How about fish and chips?"

Aeriol smiled. "Great idea."

 

It was a week later when Aeriol got a call from Adam and he was surprised, not that Adam wanted to meet up, but that he asked if he could stay over. What he actually said was: "Would it be alright if I stayed over. I want to ask you something." Of course, Aeriol was intrigued. Max was also happy to spend another weekend with Adam, he wondered what they would do together.

One of Adam's traits was, not being very well organised and a bit off when it came to keeping rendezvous. He mostly never turned up on time. That Saturday was no exception, Aeriol and Max had almost given up on him and were about to walk down the road to Weatherspoons and get a pint.

Max would have preferred to drink a half, but Aeriol insisted he wouldn't be seen drinking with a wimp with a half pint. When Max questioned why, Aeriol came up with the stunning response that only ladies drink halves. Max told him that was pretty rich coming from a gay guy and they'd quarrelled. Even so, Max always felt constrained to drink pints with Aeriol. Especially at Weatherspoons, which was the home of locally brewed ale from small breweries all over the country. It was supposed to be the beer connoisseurs mecca, they even held competitions to judge the various beers.

They were stepping out the front door when they saw Adam coming up the road. The three of them headed back down to the home of organic ales! Low and behold, but who should they meet there but Connor. They could not very well ignore him seeing how well they knew each other. It was one of the drawbacks of living where you grew up, Aeriol, Max, and Connor, had been in the same class at high school.

Connor was okay, if a little weird. Perhaps more than a little. He'd done drugs like nearly everybody, but unlike everbody else he'd got into the heavy side of using H. Something Aeriol and Max would run a mile from. Normally, they would have nothing to do with that or anyone into it. But Connor assured them he was clean and had undergone treatment in a clinic. Max wondered who the hell paid for that, because neither Connor nor his family had any money.

By the end of the evening Connor had invited them for a meal next Sunday. He was living just a few streets away with his new girlfriend, who he insisted they had to meet. Adam said he wouldn't be around, but Aeriol and Max could not say no. Connor had these deep puppy dog eyes that begged for affection, although Max could easily imagine Charles Manson living inside his head and being poisoned over Sunday lunch.

Once back home, Max excused himself and retreated to his bedroom at the back of the house. It was dark and cold, and he was more than a little drunk. Adam and Aeriol went upstairs to Aeriol's room. They looked at each other almost like a stand off in a Western movie, but who was the sheriff and who the outlaw?

"You said you had something you wanted to ask me."

Aeriol turned away and gazed idly out of the window at the blackness. Adam hesitated, nervous, but with his senses and emotions dulled by alcohol he felt able to talk.

"There's two things."

Aeriol drew the curtains and stepped back towards the bed. He sat down and kicked off his shoes. Waiting for Adam to continue, he looked up at the boy.

"I want to do a trip."

The words hung in the air on a wave of silence. The bed creaked as Aeriol began undressing.

"And?"

Adam watched him, moving his weight from one foot to the other like a child. Then he sat on the bed next to Aeriol. The silence broken by Aeriol, the question posed, but no reply. He turned to look at the boy next to him and let his arm fall over Adam's shoulder. Aeriol pulled him close and as Adam turned his face towards him, there lips touched.

 

All three shared coffee and toast the next morning as the sun cast a wane light through the windows. They had moved together into the living room next to the old gas fire, the only place in the flat offering a semblance of warmth. The cold of winter was not about to be overcome by the light of a cloudless day. It was a Sunday they spent together walking along the railway path and through Highgate Woods.

Aeriol had the idea they should eat at the cafe, but Adam had to get home. So they walked him to the underground station, saying goodbye and standing watching him disappear. They would get together in two weeks time.

"I'm starving!" Max exclaimed, stamping his feet on the ground.

Although his body didn't feel cold his feet were icy, the thin material of his sneakers offered little insulation.

"Yeah, let's get something to eat," Aeriol turned away to walk down the hill.

The Whole Earth Cafe was buzzing with like minded people who either couldn't be bothered to cook Sunday lunch for themselves or else were simply escaping the chill. There was a fire in the old Victorian chimney and the flames lent a Christmas atmosphere to the place. A real pine tree decorated with lights reminded everybody that the big day was only a few weeks away.

Even if there was no veggie equivalent of a Sunday roast, they both had a bowl of red bean and veg casserole in front of them. The steam indicating it was fresh out of the oven, and Max was almost salivating. Nether one spoke until they'd ploughed through the first course and moved onto the dessert of carrot cake.

"So?" Max smiled, looking up at Aerial with big wide eyes.

Aeriol laughed.

"I know you so well, and yes."

"You slept with him?" Max's smile grew bigger and he felt strangely excited.

Aeriol nodded.

"It's not like you think."

"What do I think?" Max asked.

It was Aeriol's turn to smile.

"That I seduced him. That I planned it all. Or something like that."

"Not at all," Max feigned hurt.

Aeriol just stared.

"He asked me."

"What?"

Aeriol lent across the small table towards Max.

"He asked me to fuck him," he whispered.

Max's jaw dropped and his mouth gaped open.

"You don't believe me?" Aeriol asked him.

"No. It's not that, but... I'm kinda surprised. I didn't think..."

"You didn't think he was gay," Aeriol interrupted.

""Well yeah, I guess I didn't."

"He's not."

"Now you're winding me up," Max frowned.

"No, really. At least maybe. He wanted to try it."

"Fuck!" Max almost choked on his coffee.

A guy at the next table turned and looked at him, before returning his attention to his meal and girlfriend.

"Exactly," Aeriol grinned.

"And?"

"And what?" Aeriol asked.

"Did he..." Max whispered.

"Enjoy it?" Aeriol finished the sentence.

"Did he?"

"I don't know. He never said. You know he doesn't say much."

"And you?"

"No. Really, no. Not like you might think." Aeriol leaned closer and spoke quietly. "It wasn't a great fuck, like you might imagine. The boy is cute, but... Maybe I was too drunk."

"But you're seeing him again."

"Yeah, not for sex. I think you could call it a one off."

Aeriol grinned and sipped the rest of his coffee. Max wondered what it would be like. He couldn't help himself. The idea was a turn on. The boy was, as Aeriol said, very cute. He wondered..?

Copyright © 2019 Talo Segura; All Rights Reserved.
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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. 
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Good to have another peek into the life of the younger Max (and Aeriol). :thankyou:! :) 

And always good to see a new piece of writing by one of my favourite authors here on GA.

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These are kind of like snippets, side dishes to the main story, but they have the same substance. I liked this one and was amused by Aeriol’s line: 

"He's a bouncer. What do you expect? Intelligence and a liberal embrace."

Same old (or young) Aeriol.

Max obviously has an eye for Adam. Could he end up with Adam too?

Another nice chapter, Talo. Thank you.

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Interesting look into Aeriol's first gay experience and he didn't enjoy it. Max's interest in a gay encounter was also piqued. 

So two horny teenagers living together inquisitive about gay sex. However, will they find out?

I'm more than a little surprised that Aeriol was not sexually active gay before this, given that by the start of the main story he was such a seasoned campaigner. I suppose that was a couple of years later.

Edited by Bard Simpson
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