Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.
Flip's Tale
By
Joel
The Sequel: Autumn 2000
Continued:...
S5: Wayne's Whirled
I did relent and put the record straight as we went into the bathroom and tried to shower together. He responded by unfairly kneeing me out of the shower, dripping wet and still soaped up. We were still horsing around when the backdoor bell rang. I hastily tied a bath towel round me and went through to the kitchen. A rather goggle-eyed short lad of my age stood there, dressed in smart dungarees and carrying a bag. Before I, or he, had a chance to speak nosey Tom came up behind me, also attired in a bath towel and rubbing his hair with a hand towel.
"Oh, hi there, Wayne," said Tom, "Come to measure up for the shelves?"
Wayne stared a moment longer, "Och, Tam, I heerd you'da moved across here. How ya, eh?"
I stood aside and beckoned Wayne in. His accent was more pronounced than Tom's. As he passed me I appraised him. About five seven, slim, dark-haired, blue eyes, ready smiling expression.
"Ma aunt saw ya yesterday lumping ya stuff across and told ma sister Marcie last night you'da staying here cos your dad is promoted and going off."
At least, the bush telegraph was alive and kicking. Wayne, and whoever had heard of a good young Scot called Wayne?, was well away. Except that he was stopped in his verbal tracks by Tom.
"Look, Wayne, I'll show you Flip's brother's room and you can measure there while we get dressed and then you can measure in ours. You know what he wants in there, don't you?"
I was rather glad Tom had suggested Stuart's room be looked at first. At least the bed would be tidy. I pictured our bed, duvet scattered and evidence of the night on the sheets. Not a sight for Wayne and his roving tongue. Tom ushered Wayne along past our room and the intervening bathroom and Wayne disappeared into Stuart's room. I looked at Tom, raised my eyebrows and he grinned. I felt my chin - no time for a shave today - and went into our room. As envisaged the bed was a mess. Two largish patches were evident on the bottom sheet. I hurriedly pulled the duvet across as Tom came in. He saw the need and helped me cover the evidence.
"Wayne was in my class at school," he informed me, "He left at sixteen to work for his father who's got a builder's business near Fort William. He's a great lad but mouthy. We played in the same football team."
I nodded at this intelligence and he said no more as we went back to the bathroom to get rid of the soap. We were back in our room just finishing dressing when Wayne came to the door.
"I've made a start," he said. I listened carefully, translating his accent. "Six feet high do? Then there's a bit across the other side of the window, shall I measure that up, could make a nice cupboard there?"
I was sitting on the edge of the bed tying the laces of an old pair of trainers. Wayne cast his eyes across. I could almost see the cogs turning. One double bed, two large lads, Tom had said 'ours'.
I stood up and went with him into Stuart's room. He was quite voluble about the improvements which could be done. All the time, though, he was taking in the attributes of the room. I grinned inwardly. This time: one double bed, one boy.
I agreed with what he proposed and then we processed back to our room as Tom had been a silent witness to the flow of suggestions towards the end. Our room was then subjected to a close scrutiny. Again, most sensible suggestions were made of what could be done while mental notes were made of rumpled cast-off boxers and shirts on either side of the bed..... I had also detected that slightly musty smell of new sex which the newly washed would be aware of and I hoped young Wayne's nostrils were not as cleansed as mine.
Tom and I left him to his measuring and went through to the kitchen where Aunt Margaret had left a note propped against the coffee pot. 'Please put washer on when filled.'
I asked Tom what he would like for breakfast and we both decided on cereals followed by toast so all this was in train when Wayne emerged, tapped on the door and came in.
"Can I set my measurements down in here?" he asked.
I pointed to the stool the other side of the kitchen table and shifted a space for him. I must say he was most efficient. Rapid, neat sketches were made and filled in with the sizes. Tom and I chomped through our breakfast watching him. I pointed to the coffee-pot, Wayne nodded and Tom got up and poured him a mug. Three spoonfuls of sugar were stirred in and the sketching went on. I thought I'd better start the washing off and one item would be our bottom sheet. I scurried off and came back with that, plus a pile of tops, boxers, underpants and socks collected from both our rooms. There was already some of Aunt Margaret's things by the washer. Wayne looked up as I opened the washer door and began to stuff things in.
"You mustn't mix those coloured things with those whites," he said authoritatively.
I looked over at him. I generally shoved all in and set the dial and switched on.
"What do you mean?" I asked, "How do you know?"
"If you'd got three older sisters you'd soon learn," he said, grinning, "I'd have my ears boxed if they saw me doing what you've just done. Take all that stuff out."
He got up and came over to me.
"You've got plenty of whites to do on a hot wash," he said, picking out the sheet and holding it up. Oh, sod it, I thought, he'll see. "Then there's these as well." He held up two of Aunt Margaret's white coats she wore in the surgery. "And all these hankies, they need boiling really."
"You'll make someone a lovely wife, Wayne," Tom said, laughing.
"Fuck you, Tam McLaren, you wouldn't last a morning with those sisters of mine."
He continued deftly to pack things in the washer. He closed the door, put washing powder in the holder and turned the dial. He came over and sat down again. He continued to fill in the sketch, now of our room.
"And I tell ye," he continued, without looking up, "You mustnae do all those knickers and boxers and things on a hot wash or they'll shrink and they won't fit round anyone's arse." He pronounced the last word in the delightful Scots way as 'erse'. "I got a right slapping for doing that with my sisters' bits and pieces and I telt them they wouldnae fit anyone's erse afore anyway. They slapped me again for that. I'm always getting slapped."
He sighed. "All they think and talk about is boys. They want doing sae bad I telt them if I was'nae their brither they'd a had ma breeks round ma ankles years ago. I got slapped for that, too." He looked up at me and Tom slyly. "You wouldnae want to take a coupla off ma hands, would ya? I know he's got enough and I expect ya have too. They're begging for it but they've nae got near it yet for all their trying."
What was Wayne fishing for? Both Tom and I laughed, me a bit hesitantly. Tom came to the rescue.
"No good, Wayne," he said, chuckling, "We're off to Edinburgh and we can't take excess baggage, or baggages."
Wayne did have the grace to laugh too. "But what about his brother. He's a braw lad, I saw him this morning with that rogue Archie Ferguson waiting for the school bus." He looked at me, "He's like you. What about him?"
"It's no good, Wayne, he's not fifteen yet for a couple of months and, anyway, he's worried whether he would be big enough."
Tom shot me a sharp look and, of course, I'd let Stuart's worry out and where would that gobbet of prime gossip get to now.
Wayne sniggered. "I'd say as long as it's stiff and greasy they'd sit on any pole. Mine's only five and a half as he'll tell you and no one's complained yet!"
I looked at Tom who closed his eyes resignedly. Something I would have to ask him later! By this time Wayne had completed his drawings. He held them up for inspection. They were very good. Not a rough sketch but a very detailed depiction of what he was planning.
"They're very good, Wayne," I said, "You're quite an artist."
His eyes met mine. There was a recognition of something in his look. What I'd said had sparked a memory.
"I know where I've seen you before," he said. "The laird's son's got you drawn on his wall."
The laird's son? Pete Douglas!
"Oh, yes," Wayne went on, "My dad got the job of repairing the roof over that side of the house and I've been doing the woodwork inside. That's were I've been for the past three weeks. I saw the drawings and talked to the lad, his name's Pete isn't it?"
I nodded. "I took some of my drawings and paintings in and we had several chats. He's a bonny lad isn't he?"
I explained I'd been at school with him and he'd actually stayed here for part of the summer. He nodded.
"Have you seen that one of you?"
I said I had. He smiled.
"Not the one in the frame." His eyes travelled down my chest. I got the message. I had seen the ones of his pals at school that were on display. "It's very good,." he averred, "Pity you can't have one of my sisters you'd be just right for her."
Tom had sized up the situation and got up and went and stood behind Wayne. He crossed his arms and caught hold of Wayne's ears, one in each hand. He lifted Wayne up from the stool and, by uncrossing his arms, Wayne whirled round to face him.
Tom held him at arms length. He spoke slowly and deliberately.
"You'll get a bloody good slapping from me, Wayne, if you don't behave and I'm bigger than your sisters. In fact, if you're not careful I might start right now."
Wayne looked quite scared.
"OK, OK, I know, I wouldnae say anything 'cause you did help me at school."
"Too true, you deserved being beaten up after what you said there but I did stop them, but it was mainly because we needed you in the team."
Poor Wayne, a deep blush rushed neck upwards.
"You should never have said what you saw Willie McBride and Charlie doing in the boiler-room. You had a dirty mind and a big mouth then and if I hadn't stood up for you you'd have lost even your less than five and a half inches at that time. Don't worry Wayne, I also stood up for you 'cause we were friends as well!"
He let go of Wayne's now bright red ears and he dropped back thankfully onto the stool. Tom patted him on the top of his head and winked at me across the table.
"When we want an example of a short dick in our studies we'll get him as a prime exhibit, eh, Flip? You could have come and examined him when I was holding him up just now, he always had it hanging out at school!"
Poor Wayne, he went even redder. Put the poor lad out of his misery.
"Come on, Wayne," I said, "Let's have some more coffee and I'd like to see some of your drawings as well sometime. Young Pete wants to go to Art College, what about you?"
He shook his head. He said he was quite happy working at his carpentry and drawing and painting in his spare time. He said he liked working with his hands and he was quite content. When he was ready to go he promised to make the best job he'd ever done and said he would bring some of his work with him when he started on Monday.
After he went I got the confession from Tom that he and Wayne had been guilty of the same act of mutual stimulation as Wayne had blabbed about Willie and Charlie so he was covering himself and several others in their group of friends. I taunted him about having to slap such a wee cock but we just ended up in fits of laughter imagining what Wayne had deduced from his visit. At least, with his advice, our knickers would still fit our `erses'! We then went and spent an informative hour with Stuart's print-out before starting work in the garden and on the bungalow.
S6: Action Stations for Archie
Stuart was actually quite cheerful when he arrived back from school. I think he was much relieved that it wasn't too different from his previous one. He said a couple of the boys had called him a Sassenach and had started to say something about his accent but this had stopped once Archie said something to them. Tom said it was best to ignore ignorance and he should find boys were boys anywhere. God, what that boy eats, too! I had to put away the tin of scones after he'd devoured three with the two mugs of tea he had while telling us all this. He wanted to know if we had seen the print-out and we said we had. We also told him Wayne would be starting on his room on Monday. He wanted to know who Wayne was and we said we'd arranged for his three sisters to come to tea on Saturday which scared him sufficiently to wash up the tea things without being kicked and pummelled which he then tried to do to us when we disabused him of the plan. He went off to his room saying he was going to read the print-out and if we wanted a copy we would have to print out our own.
On Friday afternoon when Stuart arrived home from school I was alone in the sitting- room reading an introductory textbook of General Medicine I had found on the shelves in Aunt Margaret's study. I was fascinated and knew I was going to enjoy studying. The main thing worrying me was learning all the long Latin names and so on in the anatomy text I'd looked at previously.
Stuart looked a bit sombre as he walked in. I asked how school had gone and he said it was OK and he'd the first batch of homework to do and would I check it for him when he'd done it. Then he came and sat by me on the sofa.
"Can I ask you something, Flip?" he began.
I immediately said he could and he continued.
"I think there's something wrong with Archie," he said slowly.
"What's wrong?" I asked, realising Stuart was truly anxious.
"He's got a lump on his testicle and there's a poster at the school the boys were laughing at saying boys should test for lumps 'cause they can be dangerous."
My usually telegraphic brother was obviously worried. I'd seen a telly programme about the same thing one holiday time and had that night surreptitiously felt my balls very carefully after undressing ready for bed.
"How do you know and does Archie know?"
"I felt it and told him last week," was the straight reply.
"What, were you looking for lumps?"
He shook his head. "Please, Flip, don't get angry, but it was when we were doing things. He wanted me to hold them and I was feeling them and I said he'd got another ball growing cause I could feel this pea on his left one. He laughed and said he needed three balls. But we saw that poster today and he's worried and so am I. D'you think I should tell Aunt Margaret?"
Wow! What to do? I thought for a moment.
"Where's Archie now?" I asked.
"He went home all upset and there's no one there 'til his mum comes home."
"Go and get him and I'll talk to him and say he should see Aunt Margaret as soon as possible, OK?"
Stuart nodded and went off. Both boys arrived in less than five minutes. Archie's eyes were a bit red. I made him sit beside me.
"Look, Archie," I said, "Stuart's told me what he found. Don't worry I won't say how you found out but you should see my aunt as soon as possible. Can you wait until the morning because she's got evening surgery."
Poor lad, two tears welled up in the tough guy's eyes. Stuart sat beside him and held his hand.
"Come on, Archie, it'll be alright. They'll do something for you."
Archie nodded and I got up and went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea as I had put the kettle on as soon as Stuart had gone to fetch Archie. When I got back with three mugs of tea and a plate of scones Archie was sitting with his head on Stuart's shoulder and Stuart had his arm round him.
"Here you are, Archie," I said, "I know it's worrying but my aunt will deal with it."
Archie nodded and took the mug I handed to him.
"I don't want to be ill," he said with a tremor in his deep voice, "There was a boy last year who had to go to hospital and he didn't come back."
I said he wasn't to think things like that and we managed to get him off the topic of illness and sat and chatted and drank tea and ate scones until just before six when he said he'd go home. I said he needn't say anything to his mum and dad but that I would talk to my aunt and he should come across next morning at nine and I expected she'd examine him then. He did look a bit apprehensive when I said this but I said aunt was a doctor and examined everyone, including him at least, I expected, when he was a baby. He did grin then and Stuart went off across to his house with him promising he'd fetch him in the morning.
Tom came home soon after Stuart got back and we told him the sad story.
He didn't question Stuart's tale but just accepted the straightforward account which Stuart gave of discovering the lump. He nodded in agreement when I said I'd talk to Aunt Margaret as soon as she came home.
As soon as Aunt Margaret came in and demanded G's and T all round, I asked if I could speak to her privately. We went into the fourth bedroom which doubled, or trebled, as her study and emergency consulting room. I told her exactly what had happened, even to the fact that Stuart had spotted the lump. She looked at me quizzically. I shook my head. I knew what she was wondering. I grinned.
"No, it's not that," I said, "He's straight, as the terminology goes. It was just boys together."
She didn't bat an eyelid. I wondered if girls were just girls together in the same way.
"Right," she said in her usual brisk manner, "You did the right thing. I'll see him at nine in the morning. He doesn't have to tell his parents yet." She smiled at me. "You'd be surprised the number of girls I see who daren't tell their parents certain things. With boys it's much less often, usually they're frightened they might have picked something up and they generally ask to see Jimmie Henderson. Anyway, I would like you and Tom to be there when I examine him. I'll ask his permission but it'll be for two reasons. It'll be better for him to have male support and it'll be experience for you two. Can't start your training too soon, can we?"
Nothing more was said that evening and I told Tom what Aunt Margaret had said as we lay in bed. Sex that night was again slow and very intense. It was strange. Both yesterday and today we only came once each but I know for me it was quite sufficient. I shall have to discuss this with Tom to see if it's the same for him.
We were all up bright and early. Aunt Margaret was pleased with our progress in the garden and the beginning of the painting of the rear of the bungalow. Over breakfast she told Stuart that she would like him to wait in his bedroom while she examined Archie and, if he was agreeable, then Tom and I would be in with her as potential medical students in training. I knew Stuart wanted to be there as well but he didn't say anything and just said he wanted Archie to be alright.
Stuart went off about ten to nine and came back with a rather pensive looking Archie. >From his fairly frequent sniff I knew he'd had a weep during the night. Stuart disappeared off and Aunt Margaret asked Archie if Tom and I could be present when she examined him. A look of some relief crossed his face and he nodded. We went along to the makeshift consulting room here Aunt Margaret had laid a sheet of absorbent paper over the single bed.
"Will you take your shoes and trousers off and lay down, please?" she asked.
Archie slipped off his, I noticed, new trainers and rather hesitantly dropped his jeans and stepped out of them. Tom picked them up and put them over the back of a chair. He lay on the bed which was raised up like the couch I remembered in the doctor's surgery where I'd been examined once.
"Now I want you to pull your shirt up and push your pants down because I've got to feel for any lumps."
Archie did as he was told, sniffing a bit more as he did. Stuart was right. Archie had a bigger cock than he had. Even in its quiescent state it lay fatly and lengthily across his thigh. Aunt Margaret rubbed her hands together.
"Can't have my fingers cold, eh, Archie?"
With that she lifted the right hand side of his ball sac and felt round the quite substantial testicle enclosed in it. Archie winced a bit and I put a hand out and held his hand nearest to me. He grasped my hand in response and gripped it hard. As Aunt Margaret continued running her fingers round she looked up and across at Tom and me.
"This is called palpating," she said, "I'm feeling to see if there is anything which shouldn't be there. I'm not going to say anything and I'll ask Archie if he will allow you two to examine him as well. That's the right one done, now the left one."
She let go of his right ball and began the same procedure with his left. It was over in a few moments.
"Now, Archie, would you let Tom and Flip do the same? They are going to be medical students very soon so they have to learn very quickly how to do things like this."
Archie looked up at me. I gripped his hand and he nodded.
"Right, Tom first." She turned her attention to him. "You've seen what I did, now do it carefully and very gently and don't say anything until Flip has finished as well."
Tom went round the bed and copied the movements he had just witnessed. He looked very gentle as he felt poor Archie's balls. Then it was my turn. It was odd. If I'd been feeling Tom's, or Ghazi's balls in the normal way I'd have been immediately stiff as a poker. Here it was different. The boy on the bed was a patient to be examined, carefully and clinically. I felt his right testicle and felt it slide in its sac. It was smooth except for a bit of roughness on the underside. It was a different story when I moved my finger around the surface of his left testicle. On the side I felt a distinct little lump, about the size of a small pea. I carefully lowered his sac.
"OK, Archie, you get dressed and go and see Stuart in his room, we'll be out in a moment," Aunt Margaret instructed him.
Tom handed him his jeans after he'd pulled his pants up. He picked up his trainers and went out sniffing. Aunt Margaret shut the door behind him.
"Well, Tom, what did you notice?"
"A small lump on his left testicle, about pea-sized."
"And you, Flip?"
"The same, just by that roughness you can feel."
Aunt Margaret nodded. "Yes, very noticeable. That roughness is his spermatic cord and the growth is just beside it. I have to tell you it could be serious and I want you to go and sit with him while I make a telephone call, then I'll go across with him to see his parents." She smiled at us, "You did well, very professional. I liked the way you both dealt with that because it was quite a test for you. A bit more interesting though than looking down someone's throat, eh? You'll find you have to be rather detached and you coped with that most competently. Now, you go and just talk to him. Don't say what you found, I'll tell him in a few minutes after my call."
We went to Stuart's room. He and Archie were standing together with Stuart hugging Archie and Archie sobbing.
"Come on Archie, Aunt Margaret's on the phone and she'll be out in a moment."
Stuart guided Archie to the bed and they sat side by side, Archie's face buried in Stuart's shoulder. Stuart looked as if he could weep at any moment. We all sat in silence for a few minutes until Aunt Margaret came into the room.
"Now Archie, please listen. I've made arrangements for you to go down to Edinburgh to hospital on Monday. I know it's a long way but I've just spoken to a friend who is a consultant there and he'll see you at half past two on Monday. All being well you'll only be in hospital a few days."
Poor Archie really did begin to sob then, his shoulders were heaving and tears were also forming in Stuart's eyes. He looked helplessly at me. I went over and knelt by them and put my hand on Archie's shoulder.
"Look Archie, I'll tell you what, Tom and I will take you to Edinburgh.
We'll drive you down in my car. It'll be good for us as we both want to see where we'll be living and we've got friends at the Medical School. What do you think? Would that be OK? I know your parents are very busy and it's a long way for them to go and take time off work."
Archie's sobs and sniffs grew less. He turned his tear-stained face to me.
"Please, I would like that, but I don't want to be a nuisance."
"You're not a nuisance, Archie. We want to help our brother's best friend."
Aunt Margaret came up and stood beside Stuart.
"That's a very kind offer, Archie, I'll talk to your parents now. Let's go."
Stuart helped Archie stand up, towering over him, held him and handed him a clean hankie. Archie wiped his eyes and then put on his trainers which Tom handed him before he followed Aunt Margaret out of the room. As soon as we heard the back door shut Stuart burst into tears and rushed over to me and hugged me.
"He won't die, will he?" he sobbed, "Poor Archie, I don't want him to die."
"No," I said quietly, putting my arms round him, "He'll be OK but they'll have to do something about that lump."
We sat Stuart down and Tom hugged him too and said he wasn't to worry as he was sure whatever it was could be cured.
Aunt Margaret was gone nearly an hour and when she came back she wasn't her usual bustling self.
"I've talked to his mum and dad," she said after she had sat down in Stuart's easy chair with us three lads ranged along the bed. "They are worried just as Archie is. I explained to them what will happen and after that he should be quite alright. As you three are all involved I'll tell you everything, but," here she looked at Stuart, "none of this goes beyond this room. What a doctor knows is confidential and I think you'll be making a decision soon, won't you?"
Stuart nodded. That was the first I knew he'd been thinking about his future.
"What Archie has got is likely to be serious if left. Thanks to Stuart it's been caught, I would guess, at a very early stage. If it's what I think then Archie is very young to have it but it is something that young teens can develop though the two cases I've seen in the past five years one was nineteen and the other twenty-five. It's probably because Archie developed young, he said his voice broke when he was twelve, but that's not the cause, it's just that he's very mature for his age."
Stuart nodded again, he was about to say something but stayed silent.
"I'm afraid the treatment is rather drastic," Aunt Margaret continued, "They'll have to remove his left testicle and I guess they'll give him some chemotherapy after they've done the biopsy. The biopsy will tell them all about the growth."
She saw the look of horror which must have passed over three teenage faces in front of her.
"Don't worry, you only need one!" she smiled, "There's lots of boys who are very singular for all sorts of reasons but he may have problems if he has to have more chemotherapy. They do have a solution for that as he can have a sample frozen in case he wants children later."
Stuart twitched against me. Here was his aunt calmly telling him and us about such things. Then he relaxed as she went on.
"His mum and dad would be very grateful if you would take him down to Edinburgh. They suggested you went by train but I think you would be OK by car. They want to pay for the petrol and you must accept that. I'm going across to see his granddad in a moment. He'll need to be told as he and Archie are very close and his parents don't feel up to it at the moment as they want to be with Archie. Luckily Archie's other sister is training to be a nurse and she'll be home this afternoon and tomorrow so I'll chat to her as well. Archie wants you to go across after lunch, Stuart, and I rely on you not to say anything to him. It'll be a test, not only of friendship, but of trust."
Stuart nodded and Aunt Margaret got up, smiled at us three solemn looking lads and went off to see the elder Mr Ferguson.
If this was what being a doctor was like it was going to be difficult but I knew I wanted that career. Stuart was sitting between us. He put out his hands and took one of each of ours and squeezed them.
"Thank you, you've been so kind. I hope Archie will be OK and I promise to help him any way I can."
Friendship and trust.
S7: Before the Great Day
After lunch Tom suggested we went for a run. It was something we'd never done before but we changed into shorts, rugby shirts and trainers and set off. It was just what we needed. It released a lot of tension just loping along in silence along the track beside the loch. After about four miles or so we slowed down and sat watching the ripples on the loch surface.
"I really want to be a doctor," said Tom softly, "So do you."
Nothing to say. I put my hand out and covered the back of his which was resting on the grass. After five minutes of silence and getting our breath back we set off again and must have done a good seven miles before reaching the bungalow again. The feelings I had as we entered the back door were just the same as after an intense loving sex session with Tom. We showered together. No nasty kneeing this time. We soaped each other and then retired to our bed where we lay and brought each other to a very satisfactory climax. We were as one.
We mopped each other with our handy towel kept purposely under the bed for such occasions. We dressed leisurely and went into the kitchen and I made some tea while Tom looked in the pantry for food. Aunt Margaret came back as I was pouring a second mug of tea. She sat opposite us as I passed her a mug. She smiled.
"I feel as if I've got three good sons," she said, "I may be an old maid but you're just like my own. I wish your mother could see you now, Flip. I hope when you feel you can you'll contact her."
I thought about that last statement a lot while I helped Aunt Margaret get supper. I couldn't quite steel myself to write just yet. I wondered if Stuart was missing Mum? He never mentioned her and definitely not the Creep. I knew he'd sent a couple of cards to her but I hadn't seen any replies. Perhaps she was still away licking her wounds having got rid of Ray.
Tom laid the table and was instructed to open a bottle of red wine to go with the rest of the pheasant casserole we were having for supper. Both he and I were getting a liking for the wine Aunt had stored away. She said the bottles were mainly gifts from grateful patients. I hoped I might have such generous patients!
While the supper was heating up Tom and I had shown Aunt Margaret the duplicate sketches Wayne had left behind. She thought they were very good and she was confident he would make a good job of the improvements to the two rooms. I told her about his encounter with Pete and that he would be bringing some of his work to show us. Aunt Margaret laughed when we told her it was now common knowledge about Tom's move. Tom asked her if she knew the three sisters. She said she most certainly did as she had brought the younger two into the world and Wayne as well. Tom said the three girls were known as the Vampires by the lads around because if they got their teeth in you they wouldn't let go. Tracey, Marcie and Sherrilee were the three and I had noticed them prowling in concert at the Ceilidh and had had a brief encounter in a couple of the reels as they flung themselves around giving one the glad eye all the time.
Stuart came back and still looked rather sombre. He said Archie was much better now and he was very glad we were taking him to Edinburgh on Monday and would we go and see his parents in the morning.
Things did liven up a bit as the wine flowed and Aunt Margaret told us about some of her more spectacular patients. We all went to bed early and I wanted to talk to Tom about the meeting tomorrow with his parents at lunch-time when we were going to tell them officially of our resolve to make a commitment to each other. However, Stuart was still a bit down and as he came along the corridor as we went into our room Tom asked him if he would like to come in with us for the night.
Stuart's face lit up. "Oh, please, if you and Flip don't mind, I'm still worried about Archie," he said.
Our double bed was very full as Stuart spooned himself in between us and, I think, we all dropped off to sleep very quickly. I know I did. There was no sex, just three lads helping to comfort each other with their company.
I woke up quite early and felt my brother's erection planted firmly between the cheeks of my arse. He was still fast asleep and had his arm flung over my shoulder to keep himself close to me and, again, it was very comforting knowing he was as sexy and randy as we were. I dropped off again and woke to find him turned away from me and whispering to a still comatose Tom, "You taste lovely, Tom, salty and nice", and then he crawled out of bed across me.
I caught hold of his arm. "What did you mean by that?" I asked.
I could see him grinning in the half-light. "Nothing, Flip, I just kissed his neck and then licked it," he explained, "But, I've got to go to the bathroom now, it's rather urgent!"
I knew why as when he turned his boyish rod was still as erect as it was when I had awoken first.
There was quite an interval before he returned, clad only in a pair of tatty shorts, but bearing a tray with steaming mugs of coffee.
"This is getting too much of a habit," he said as he set the tray down on the bedside table. He sat on the bed beside me. "Oh, Flip, I do thank you two for looking after me last night. Poor Archie, I hope he will be alright."
I leaned up in bed and held him round his torso and drew him down to me.
"Whenever you need us, we'll be here and you are not to worry about Archie. You have probably saved his life." I put a hand down and felt up the open leg of his shorts. No underpants on so I tickled his balls. "Do you think we ought to examine yours?"
He giggled. "Have done this morning. No problems."
The end of his limp prick was still a bit sticky against the back of my hand.
"And you took care of another thing as well, eh?"
"Of course. I expect I'm just like you were at my age, eh?" He leaned down and pecked me on the nose. "Brother!"
I turned and poked Tom in the back. He grunted.
"Coffee's here, Tom," I said, "Your little brother's a good slave, isn't he, except he didn't wash his hands before making it."
Tom grunted, "What d'you mean?", as Stuart poked me hard in the ribs.
"He's a horny little sod, so he made our coffee with his sticky wank-stained paws."
"Leave him alone," said Tom, "I wouldn't mind him as a real brother, even if he's like you and sex-crazed!"
Stuart scuttled round the bed. "I'm your real brother, now, Aunt Margaret said so and so did Flip before he turned nasty."
"Punishment, eh?" said the devious Tom, now wide awake, sitting up and scratching his incipient hairy chest..
The pair grabbed me and subjected me to a most intense tickling with me shouting and hollering until Aunt Margaret banged on the door. This only set the bastards off on a renewed onslaught with Tom very effectively shutting my mouth with one of his large hands.
"Go on, Stuart, tickle the old fella's balls," mouthed Tom, who was going to get a damn good going over when I got him alone!
Stuart was giggling as I was squirming and, as Tom tickled my very sensitive chest, so Stuart ran his fingers lightly round and round my ball sac and up and down my rigid shaft. Stuart giggled even more as my cock started to drool. This was something I'd noticed in the past year or so. When I got really sexually aroused I produced quite a few drops of colourless liquid which I'd found out, from Ghazi's and my perusals of some of the more forthright Internet sites, was what the Americans called pre-cum. Well, be it on their head, or more likely their hands, if they continued with their ministrations much more. It didn't take long. Stuart was giving my tool a fingering as if he was playing the flute and I just let fly. My cum flew out in gobbets all over Tom's arm and hand and landed in great drops all over my stomach and chest. Stuart giggled even louder and Tom shook his head in his usual mode of disbelief over the amount I habitually came. He flicked the trusty towel over to me after wiping my spunk off his arm.
"Look at that Stuart, he just can't control himself. I don't know what we can do with him. Get up and clean yourself up you randy bugger."
They let me up and I wiped up the evidence of my randiness. I was very much aware of the readiness of Stuart at any little signal to help Tom to the same type of climax. The signal never came although Tom was sporting seven inches of hardness. I wondered why? I wouldn't have minded. Tom was my property but I thought it was something which would have made the bonding between the two new brothers even firmer. It was something I would have to discuss with Tom when we had a quiet moment together.
Anyway, Stuart and I had released our tensions this morning and I was glad that Stuart felt he wasn't letting Archie down by indulging in something that perhaps poor Archie would not be doing for some time, if at all. Again, I would take the opportunity at some point to find out more.
We were up and about so we shooed Stuart off to his room as soon as we finished the coffee. He insisted he had already washed before he made our coffee so the bathroom was free for us. I went in first and had a shower making sure I rid my chest and abdomen of any lingering traces of spunk. As lunch was going to be rather formal I decided I'd better have a shave and really look tidy. I then relinquished the bathroom to Tom who went through the same procedure, except for any spunk removal!
I dressed carefully and as I got out my father's kilt and buckled it on I wondered what he would have said to my announcement I was making today. I hoped he would have approved. I still didn't know if my mother had any inkling, either. Tom came back in as I was tying my tie.
"I love you, you know that, Flip," he said, coming up beside me as I stood admiring myself in the long mirror. "You're a vain bugger, but I still love you." He put his arms round me and we kissed deeply. As he only had a towel round his waist I was very aware he was still erect.
"Let me, Tom," I said, untied the towel and flung it on the floor in front of me. I stepped behind him and we watched in the mirror as I ringed his lovely thick shaft and pulled back and forth slowly until, with a great contented sigh, he shot the load which had been welling up in his balls waiting for my loving hand.
He turned to me. "I won't hold you, Flip, I'm still leaking a bit and I don't want to get anything on your kilt. Wait until night and we'll love each other properly.
Today we are going to make a move towards our vows so it will be a red-letter day for both of us."
He picked up my right hand, the hand that had brought him to that stunning climax, and kissed my fingers.
Tom was dressing when Stuart knocked on the door. He came in and said he'd finished his breakfast and was going along to see Archie. We said we would be there about ten o'clock to make arrangements for the journey. As Tom and I were having our breakfast Aunt Margaret came into the kitchen with a map and said that Edinburgh was about a hundred and fifty miles and we should do the journey in four hours at the most, if we took the A84 and A85 route.
I knew that Simon and Big Dick were staying in their flat. They had moved out of student residence and were living in a house which belonged to some Trust that Dick's father had set up as he was a property developer in a big way. I phoned Simon who said we were to stay in their spare room and not come back until at least Wednesday. This suited us down to the ground because it would give us a chance to explore where we would be studying and where the residence was. In fact, Simon had managed to get us a two bedroom flat in the particular block and said it was the same one he and Dick had had during Simon's first year.
We called at Archie's house just on ten o'clock. His parents looked very worried but were very relieved we would be in Edinburgh while he was being examined. They made it quite clear they would pay all our expenses and I said that would probably not be much more than the cost of petrol. Aunt Margaret had already explained that Archie would most likely be in until the weekend and we said we would find out all the details. Poor Archie sat beside Stuart and looked most woebegone but he said he was thankful he would have us there at least until Wednesday.
S8: Announcing our intentions
The next ordeal was lunch and our announcement. The four of us made our way over to the Police House just before one o'clock. Mrs McLaren opened the door and enveloped me in a big hug then did the same to Tom. I couldn't have been more welcomed. Tom's father came up and shook my hand and said he hoped we would support each other in whatever we decided. Well, I felt so relieved and Tom's face was a picture as Stuart very calmly said he was glad he'd inherited another brother.
We'd rehearsed a bit what we would say and I'd volunteered to say the little speech. It was very simple. I just said we realised soon after we met four years ago that we wanted to be together and that desire had never wavered. We showed Aunt Margaret and Tom's parents the rings and told them the story. As Mr and Mrs McLaren had met Ghazi when he had stayed with me they knew what a good friend he was. I said we had decided that we would make a commitment to each other at Christmas but we would have to plan how, where and exactly when. Mrs McLaren gave us each a box and inside were identical silver kilt pins. She said she hoped they would help to pin us together as well. She was so proud of her son and wanted him to have the best and she knew I was the best for him.
It was all rather emotional and poor Stuart burst into tears. He said he was so happy for us but he was so worried about his friend Archie. So what with all of us feeling happy in one way and sad in another it was quite a heart-rending occasion. Luckily Mr McLaren came to the rescue with a bottle of champagne and we were toasted and wished all the well for the future. Aunt Margaret then proposed a toast to Inspector McLaren and great things for him in the future as well. What was also great was that Tom's father said quietly to both Stuart and myself that if we wanted to call him Dad he would be pleased and Stuart was welcomed into his family as Tom's young brother as well.
Sunday lunch was a stupendous affair. I'd had venison at the Campbells but I don't think it was so succulent and tender as the huge piece Tom's mother had cooked. What was also most intriguing was that it was a present from the terrible twins' father because Tom's father had somehow got them out of some scrape. That was a story to find out about sometime!
My worries about how our announcement would be taken were quite unfounded. Tom and I were seen as part of his family and certainly Aunt Margaret and Stuart had no problems either. My mother was still an unknown quantity.
That night in bed I asked Tom why he hadn't signalled to Stuart that he might toss Tom off.
Tom was quiet for a moment. "Flip, I'm afraid that if I get nearer to Stuart I shall fall for him as well as you. He is so like you when you were his age it's almost like you having a twin. I love you too much and I love him too. Sometime, perhaps, we will be intimate but for him I think it would be a passing experiment. It wouldn't be for me and I think it would be too much for me at the moment. I want you and I need you all the time. I don't want to become confused."
I knew what he meant. I also loved my brother dearly and I could see he was very, very fond of Tom but his love for Tom was not the same as mine. He wanted to experience the power and force of that seven inch tool. I knew he wanted to compare it with his brother's and to find what it would be like when he was also so fearsomely equipped. But, I wanted and needed Tom in quite a different way just as he wanted and needed me although we were both boys. Stuart would find someone to love and have children with at some time, a different sort of love which I knew I could never experience.
We lay in silence for a minute or so then began that slow prelude of loving each other's bodies, minds and spirits which reached the ultimate with the release and enjoyment of each other's gifts of love. There was no loudness about our love that night. Gently and slowly we laved and sucked on each other until we released our separate tokens which we then shared as our lips met and our tongues softly stroked and so fused our love.
To be continued...............