Camp Echo - 20. Chapter Twenty – Sharing Secrets, Sharing Futures.

The Whole Earth Cafe was buzzing when Max stepped through the entrance. It wasn't crowded, but there was some band supposed to be playing or was it a theatre group, he hadn't paid much attention to the flyer on the door. Two guys and a girl were moving stuff around on the little stage in the corner, directed by an older chap wearing a burgundy beret.

Nate saw him straightaway, spoke to the guy he was working with at the serving counter and came over to join him.

"Hi, you okay? Let's sit down. You wanna eat, or drink something?"

Max looked at him.

"You are, okay?" Nate thought he looked a bit... odd.

Max nodded and allowed Nate to lead them to a table. He sat down, feeling just a little exhausted.

"I'll get us a drink. Fruit juice or tea?"

When Max didn't answer Nate waved his hand.

"Nate to Max. Drink?"

Max snapped back to the table. He'd been watching the stage.

"Yeah, same as you."

"Back in a minute."

Nate got up, he frowned, wondering what was going on with Max.

There were now another three people around the stage and they'd stopped moving stuff and were talking. There was one very nice, good looking, young guy who was off to one side. Max watched him. It seemed to Max that he was looking in on the conversation, a little apart. As if he wanted to be involved, but was unsure. "How old was he?"

"There you go," Nate sat down.

Max fixed his attention back on Nate, but not before his boyfriend had also noticed the young guy over by the stage.

"You seem kinda distracted?"

Max looked up.

"It was busy at work today," he replied, by way of explanation.

Nate was tempted to say something about the guy Max had been looking at, but he didn't.

"So, my parents." Nate sipped his hot beverage.

Max jumped. He felt a dread that was lodged in the pit of his stomach.

"You know at the restaurant, last time..."

"Yeah, what?"

"I.."

"What, Max?"

"I really don't know what I told them. You know, when your brother asked are we boyfriends... well after it's like a blur. I know I was talking about me, maybe us, but I was, I don't know, just blabbing without thinking. I mean, it all seemed okay. Well except I remember your mother never said much after that, but otherwise..."

Max trailed off. Am I crazy? He thought to himself after blurting all that out.

"Max," Nate reached across the table and touched his hand. "Chill, relax. It's okay." He looked at him sympathetically. "I thought I should be the one being worried," Nate tried to lighten the feeling he was getting from Max. "My parents only want to talk about where things go from here. Nothing heavy. Well, least I thought not. They know we're in a relationship. Martin mentioning the boyfriend thing was a bit much, but you handled it okay. You were great." He smiled, reassuringly.

"But, you know, we're not exactly the same."

"What does that mean?" Nate fixed his eyes on Max.

"It means, you live in some huge mansion. You go out to really expensive restaurants. And, well, we aren't in the same class, are we?"

"You feel inferior?" Nate couldn't believe it.

"I don't know. It's heavy."

"Max. You want to know something?"

Max put his mug down and looked back at Nate.

"What?"

"You do too much dope. You've lost your self confidence. You're okay, you just don't see it. You've kinda opted out and maybe when you're confronted with scenarios like my parents. Well, maybe, it phases you. No, shit, not maybe. It does. You sort of zone out. You try to think too hard about what's the right thing to say. And you question everything. You tie yourself in knots."

Max looked at the table top.

"You don't have to come to the house if you don't want."

Max was silent. Until Nate repeated: "You can stay like you are. We can stay like we are."

"Nah," Max said. "You're right. My life is shit."

"Oh Max, shut up. It's not shit. Let's go back home."

"To my place?" Max asked.

"Of course," Nate smiled.

"It's actually warm in here," Nate leaned over and kissed Max.

"I know. I put some parrafin in the heater."

"I'm going to university next summer," Nate suddenly announced.

Max had to think about this for a second or two.

"Where?"

"Well, that's the thing. It's not decided. I'm not brainy enough for Cambridge and the best second choice is Dundee."

"Dundee!" Max was agitated. "I don't even know where the fuck that is except in Scotland somewhere."

"Yeah. It's where the Christmas cakes come from."

"What?"

"You know, those fruit cakes with almonds on top that you always eat at Christmas."

"I thought everybody ate Christmas pudding, but never mind. You're going to live in Dundee."

"No. I mean, I don't know. Kinda depends."

Max sat up in bed, pulling the duvet around his lap.

"Depends on what? On your parents. That's it. That's why you want me to meet them again."

"No, no, no. It's got nothing to do with them. Least ways, my father reckons if I'm gonna study archaeology, I should chose the best uni to go to. That is the best that will accept me."

"I never knew you wanted to dig things up."

Nate looked at him, then laughed.

"Yeah, funny."

"So you're going to be living in Scotland?"

"It depends."

"You said. But on what?"

"On you."

There was a silence. Max shifted around.

"Why on me? I'm not gonna tell you to trash the career you've obviously planned out."

Nate frowned and gave him a hard look.

"Did you fancy that kid at the cafe?"

"Wow! Where did that come from," Max became a little uncomfortable.

"You were gazing at him. Seemed obvious to me."

"Nothing escapes mister super detective."

"Now you're just being childish, because I pulled you up on it. I'm the younger guy here, you should be the responsible one."

"You were telling me about going to Dundee. To get some cake."

Nate rolled over on top of Max, pushing him down on the futon and pinning him there between his legs, his arms pressing into Max's shoulders.

"If you wanna be childish. You want me to make you cry 'uncle?' Or spit in your mouth?"

"You wouldn't?" Max looked up at the smooth pale chest leaning over him.

Nate grinned, but didn't move.

"Alright, you win," Max said. "It depends on me whether you go to uni or not."

"No. I'm going to uni. It depends on you if I go to Dundee or London."

Max smiled, feeling a sense of relief.

"If you can go to university here, why all this, 'It depends on me?'"

"Because, if you're going to go off with every good looking boy who's willing. Then, we don't really have much of a relationship, do we? I'm not Aeriol. I want some commitment here."

"Oh. This is serious."

Nate shifted back to his side of the futon.

"It's serious for me. But what about you?"

"Didn't I tell you I love you?"

"I'm not sure, but you need to prove it."

"Didn't we just do that, like five minutes ago?"

"Oh shit Max. I think I might as well leave. This isn't going to work, is it?"

"Why?"

"Because proving you love me isn't only about having sex. Do I have to explain what a proper relationship is. Two people, together."

Max just looked at him as he stood up and went to pick up his clothes.

"Davy, there's one thing I don't get?"

Max was washing up after the meal the three of them had just shared. Aeriol had disappeared into the front room.

"What's that?" Davy replied, watching him stack the dishes on the drainer, he didn't move to help.

"What are you doing with Aeriol?"

"What is this, twenty questions?"

Max pulled the plug and turned around to look at the boy. "Just curious."

Davy's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? Really?"

"Really," Max echoed.

"And you?"

"Me. What about me?" Max was staring at him.

"I could ask you the same thing, couldn't I? What are you doing with him?"

Max smiled. "Sharing a flat."

"Yeah, it's a bit more than a flat you're sharing."

Max picked up the tea towel and started drying the plates. He slowly rolled a dinner plate between the towel. Thinking. "You're right. It's a bit more than that."

"And you're doing it, because you like it. You like sharing your life with Aeriol."

"There's Nate."

Davy looked at the table avoiding Max who was watching him.

"And there's you." Max turned back to the the dishes on the draining board.

"Me?"

"Yeah. It was me who first called round, remember?"

"So what you gonna do?" Davy asked.

"I don't have a fucking clue and I'm not being mean here. I... I guess I like you. But I like Nate and I like Aeriol." Max shifted around. "If you wanna know the truth, I love all of you. Aeriol doesn't ever demand anything. Nate wants a steady relationship. And you? What do you want?"

"I want to sleep with you."

Max grinned: "We already did that, I think."

"And?"

"As I recall, I left you and Aeriol together that night."

"That was a shame."

Davy looked at Max, who stared right back at him. There was something almost melancholy about that look. Music drifted in through the open kitchen door. The strains of Eric Clapton, belting out Layla on an electric guitar.

"You can see, things are just a bit complicated?"

"They are what you make them. So?"

"What?" Max was only half listening now.

"About sleeping together?"

"Come here," Max couldn't ignore the kid.

Davy stood up from the table. The chair grated back across the floor. Clapton was lost in a guitar crescendo. Max stepped close to Davy and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. They stayed like that for what seemed ages. Max rested his chin on Davy's head, he could smell the scent of shampoo in his hair.

"That's yes then?" Davy looked up.

"Let's have that after dinner smoke first. Okay?"

Davy smiled.

It was less cold in the bedroom, with the parrafin heater guzzling down the fuel. Problem was it made the room feel damp, parrafin is not a great way to heat. Anyhow, he couldn't leave it on all night. The moon was a tiny sliver in the dark night sky, everything beyond the large window was obscured, not even shadows to give a hint of any shape. Max had been thinking hard about his life since being confronted by Nate's demand for a relationship. Now he had Davy here with him, standing close, his arm around Max's waist.

"What are you thinking?" The boy asked Max, and Max wasn't sure how to reply.

"Nothing much," was all he said.

Davy let his arm slide down and away from Max. He too had a lot to think about, a lot on his mind. Max moved and drew the curtains, turning, smiling. Davy had that same air of melancholy, something he seemed to wear around him, like a cloak he was too cold to take off.

"Do you want me here?" Davy asked, stepping back looking at the shadow in front of the curtains.

The question struck Max like an arrow aimed at his heart. Did he want Davy? Did he want a one to one relationship with Nate? What the hell did he want?

"Of course I want you here."

Max moved to wrap the boy in a hug. He wasn't short on emotion, or lacking in sex drive. He felt himself responding in both ways and it was obvious how Davy felt. He brushed his hand through the boy's hair and lowered his head, gently bringing his lips to touch Davy's. When they parted, they both slid into bed beneath the duvet, quickly recoupling in an embrass. Davy rolled back away from Max.

"We need to talk," he told him.

Max's hand once again played with Davy's hair.

"About what?"

"About us, for starters. About me, you, everything."

"Everything's kind of big," Max wanted to forget everything and make love.

"Don't be an arsehole, Max."

That took a little of the passion out of Max.

"Okay. Let's talk. You start."

"You're so fucking courageous, but alright."

They were laying side by side. Davy decided he should ignore how Max was being, that he needed to get things straight. If he didn't talk, Max never would. At least that was what he felt.

"Remember you invited me, right? You were... curious, or jealous, I don't know. You were wondering about Reuben."

"All of those things," Max admitted. "I was wondering about Reuben when he told me he wasn't into... fucking. You were there, so I was curious. Jealous, I don't know, I don't think so. What was there to be jealous of? Only, maybe, because you were kind of cute."

"Hmm..." Davy sighed. "Okay. Well, you want to know about Reuben then?"

"I could guess," Max rolled on his side to look at Davy.

Davy turned his head, looking back at him.

"You could, but you might not be right."

Max grinned. "Aeriol told me what you like."

"Did he?"

Max nodded.

"The fucker! And if I share stuff with you, are you gonna tell him? Spread it around?"

"No, Davy. I wouldn't, not if it's just between us."

"And I can believe you?"

"I guess if we're sleeping together and we have sex together, then I get to know what you like, same as you find out about me."

"When I was thirteen..."

Davy slowly rolled out the story from his childhood. He had been on a holiday with a group of boys aged thirteen to sixteen, led by a monitor. A guy at uni, twenty-one year old student. They spent a week canoeing down the River Wye and one special afternoon, it was free time. The choice was left up to them; to walk into the nearest town, or hang about at the ruins where they'd picnicked. Everybody except him, Aart, and Markus, opted to go into town. The last thing Adam, the university student said was, "Don't get into any trouble," before he left with the rest of the group.

"And what happened?" Max was intrigued.

Davy grinned. "We got to mucking around. Then, I'm not sure how it happened, but Aart and his brother ganged up on me. It was kind of evil, but sexy. Aart grabbed a hold of me, we wrestled. He was sixteen, older, bigger, and stronger. Markus had my legs. It was summer, July, and hot. We didn't have much clothing on; shorts or swim trunks, and t-shirt." Davy paused, staring hard into Max's eyes.

Max shifted his head forward and gave him a peck on the lips, a very gentle, very erotic little kiss. "Go on," Max was excited.

"Aart told his brother to pull off my shorts, he was on top, pinning me down. Then he says to me, "We heard in England that boys get beaten." I looked up at him.

Markus joined in the conversation then. "Yes, with a stick across your bum," he laughed.

He crawled up by my face and showed me a long bendy stick he must have picked up somewhere.

"He needs to be beaten," Aart told his little brother, talking over my head.

"Then he twisted me over on my stomach, Markus was once again sitting on my legs. I couldn't move, and they started whacking the bendy branch across my arse. Only it didn't really hurt. They weren't trying to hurt me. Whatever the branch was, it wasn't a cane, just some floppy piece of a bush, but it sort tingled a bit."

"Tingled?" Max questioned.

"Yeah, not enough to really sting, but enough that you felt it. So they were laughing and playing and sometimes talking in Dutch. Which is when Aart twisted me back over and smiled."

"Oh look!" He said. "He's hard."

"And I was. And no way I could hide it. It was sticking straight up for everyone to see. Like a flag pole. Then Aart starts touching me. Very lightly. He touched my balls and of course, he touched my cock. Anyhow, what finally happened is he started, you know, and it felt electric. I mean I'd rubbed my cock before, but this was different, someone else was doing it. Long story short, it didn't take long before I exploded. Which was a shock and a big surprise, because it was my first time. It actually hit Aart on the chin. But he just laughed and wiped it off. I think he was impressed, but maybe I'm fantasising."

"Maybe," Max agreed, smirking. "But it's a great story. Def made me hard."

Davy's hand reached down under the duvet and found that was true.

"Anyhow, that's the kind of games me and Reuben played."

"Yeah, Aeriol said you like..."

Max gasped as Davy's hand squeezed him.

"And you?" Davy asked.

"Yeah, I could be into that," he laughed and they tumbled together.

Both boys were just a little excited.