Making Love and War

By moc.kooltuo@8102gnitirwsa

Published on May 20, 2018

Gay

[Note] This is not technically Chapter/Part 2. While the main story is told primarily through Veikko Carlisle, side chapters explore concurrent events through the eyes of the other (currently) four planned major characters. They are not essential to the main storyline. A reminder that all my characters come from very different backgrounds and do not necessarily represent my personal beliefs and values.

[Disclaimer] The story involves same-sex relationships and explicit sexual acts between similar aged boys under the age of eighteen. This is legal where I am, but if it isn't for you, I suggest you exit now. All characters and events are completely fictional.

[Sex] Every chapter and side chapter is intended to have at least some sexual content, some more than others. While Making Love And War is intended to focus on the relationships between these characters, they will be engaging in sexual activity. If this is what you're here for search for, the [+] and read until the [-] I put in for your convenience. I get it. ;)

[Nifty] Nifty has provided countless orgasms for a huge audience over many years, free of charge, but it does need your assistance. Don't forget to help Nifty to help you, and every donation is precious.

[Email] My email is aswriting2018@outlook.com. I appreciate emails, so if you want to chat about any chapters I upload, feedback, your own works or even just to talk, you might even make my day.

Making Love And War Part One (B) Christopher Lynch

Topher always woke up before his alarm. Between five-thirty and five forty-five in the morning. The alarm would go off at six sharp. It was

the first day of Eleventh Year at school today, and his heart sank as he remembered. Neither one of his close friends was attending this year. Zackary Clement, already seventeen, had chosen to leave school and join the military with the blessing of his parents. Although Topher maintained an uneasy friendship with Zack, he was an impulsive and borderline dangerous person sometimes. The military's discipline would do him a lot of good. Kevin Zhang, Topher's closest friend, was going to a Catholic school next year. Topher had campaigned to go as well, but he was to stay in the school he was currently attending, his mother said. I'm going to miss them, Topher thought. Two years is a long time to be alone.

He didn't want to keep Kevin waiting. Every morning, providing neither was sick or out of town, he and Kevin would go for a run together at six-fifteen on the dot. He prided himself on never being late, unlike Kevin, who couldn't seem to help himself. Topher slid out from under his covers, naked, and flicked on his light switch, flinching at the sudden light. The light of the sun was barely starting to touch the horizon, and it was very dark. He fumbled in his drawer, taking out a pair of neatly folded briefs and a pair of compression shorts, putting the former on before squeezing the latter over his firm butt.

He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He was as good as a grown man now. Five feet and ten inches tall, slender and with muscle definition on his flat stomach, firm pectorals and biceps he could flex. Spending so many hours on the beach during the summer holidays had done wonders for his pale skin and gave him a full, golden tan, although he didn't much like how white his hips and butt were in comparison. His father was olive-skinned, dark-haired and brown-eyed, but he favoured his mother, with light sand-coloured hair that fell on his face, long eyelashes and blue eyes.

"God gave you your mother's eyes, her skin and her butt, you lucky son of a gun," his father would quip on occasion, earning a filthy look from Gwen and laughs from Topher.

Topher snuck his way down the loudest, creakiest staircase in the world and drank a large glass of water before sneaking out the back door. He had not put on a shirt, socks or shoes for the morning run. He never did, unless a dress code or serious weather demanded it. It was cold as he walked the three short blocks down towards the beach, where the chilly wind was blowing from. It smelled of salt, and the moment he felt sand under his bare feet, he felt lighter. He was free out here. There were no rules or expectations. At the nexus between water and earth, there was nothing but beauty, and he felt closer to God than he ever could at the Church or in his home. Here, the cold breeze caressing his bare chest and the seaweed tickling his toes, God was smiling on him.

"I don't know what you're so happy about," Kevin grumbled, rugged up in his tight-fitting jacket, loose fitting shorts over his full-length tights and wearing his filthy running shoes. "You have that weird smile on your face again."

"Sorry Flash, I was miles away," Topher laughed. They grabbed each other's hands and briefly wrapped their left arms around each other, patting their friend twice and releasing. The man-hug, people called it.

"You're freezing!" Kevin remarked, rubbing his hands together and stretching his legs in preparation. It is cold, Topher thought, rubbing his arms with his hands. He was beginning to shiver. A hot day was coming, but the sun was barely visible, creating a beautiful pink and orange glow.

"Then we better get moving," Topher grinned and began at a jogging pace, running down towards the water. Kevin quickly caught up, and the two began to get competitive and progressed into a sprint. Topher was a very fast runner, but there was one reason he never seemed to take a blue ribbon or gold medal, and that was Kevin Zhang. Flash was his nickname. Not so original, but very accurate, Topher thought happily as he chased his friend, the wet sand cold underneath him and the spray of the waves occasionally touching his legs and flat stomach.

"Pretty poor effort, Chrissy," Kevin teased when he finally slowed. They'd sprinted quite a way, and both were beginning to tire.

"... Call me... Chrissy again... and I'll throw you in... the sea," Topher laughed and doubled over, bracing himself on his knees, focusing on regulating his breathing. He had great stamina for long distance running, but sprinting was another matter entirely. If the two of them ran at a set pace to the big pipe and turned back like they normally did, Kevin would have been the one who struggled to keep up.

"Hello boys," Marlie Meade yelled on her way past, on her early morning jog with her four dogs. The boys yelled their greetings and waved back. They crossed paths nearly every morning, sometimes both stopping for a chat, but she didn't stop today. She must have been in a hurry.

"C'mon, Christine! Do you need me to run back and get your tampons and sports bra?" Kevin taunted him. Topher grimaced a little. He didn't appreciate Kevin's tendency to lean on sexist jeers, but any time he voiced his objection, Kevin would dismiss it as insecurity of his masculinity or start with the homophobic jeers instead.

"I noticed you waited until Marlie was gone before you said that," Topher laughed, and Kevin shrugged.

"She'd probably deck me, and I'm no fool. Seriously, come on, you're as slow as a wet week, sissy boy!"

He took off, and Topher ran after him again. This time, they ran for fun, not competition, and side by side, their strides in unison, they ran for another two kilometres until they reached their checkpoint. It was a large concrete pipe that seemed to come from underneath the city. It protruded from the sand and ran into the water, disappearing further out in the ocean. Topher had been meaning to find out for most of his life what its purpose was, but he had never done it. Kevin sat against it, out of breath, but Topher wasn't ready to sit down yet. He hopped up on it and gingerly walked along it, passing the gentle high tide waves that licked the sand.

"You're gonna fall in!" Kevin warned him, but Topher only laughed. He'd never fallen in, and even if he did, it wouldn't be the end of the world. All he had were his compression shorts and underwear, and they'd survive getting wet. Five meters along, Topher sat down, one leg hanging over either side of the pipe and his feet engulfed by the freezing cold water.

"Come and join me!" He yelled, and Kevin shook his head no.

"I'll get wet, you psycho," he laughed.

"That's the idea!" Topher encouraged him, and Kevin sighed.

"If I fall, you're washing my clothes," he grumbled, tugging his shoes and socks off and walking uncomfortably along the thick, dry concrete underneath. He made it to where Topher was perched and sat down with him, their knees nearly touching. Kevin hissed with discomfort as his toes hit the cold water and he opted to sit cross-legged instead, nice and dry.

"School is going to suck today," Kevin moped, looking out towards the bay.

"Flash, nearly everyone from our entire Church goes to your school," Topher reminded him. "You're going to have way more friends than you did last year."

"Yeah, but they're not you," Kevin said quietly. Topher's eyes fell to the grey concrete below them. He didn't want to be feeling the things he did.

"We're still going to run every day," he offered. "And breakfast every Monday and Thursday, dinner on Tuesday and Thursday, and Mass on Sunday. We'll see each other all the time."

"Well, duh," Kevin laughed. "But, you know how it is. What are you going to do? School is going to be so much worse for you."

"Aw well. I'll survive it. Not everyone's so awful."

"They're pretty awful, Toph. You remember the way Veikko Carlisle kissed up Zack that one time?"

Topher and Kevin laughed together. Zack and his parents were very homophobic and he often picked on the Carlisle twins, despite Topher and Kevin's efforts to keep him in line. The mighty Dominic Duvall took Zack to the ground and held him there while Veikko forcibly kissed him on the lips for nearly a full minute.

"He deserved it," Topher recalled, looking over his neck at the waves behind him. "No matter what they are, Zack didn't have to be so horrible to them."

"I don't know," Kevin said, thoughtfully.

He had always been a fence sitter, Topher knew. He didn't actively encourage Zack to pick on most of the girls, the queers and the promiscuous at the school, but he did nothing to stop him. I didn't stop Zack either, not until he was getting dangerous, Topher thought privately. Maybe being alone is what I deserve for letting him get away with cruelty.

"Some of them really needed a kick in the guts," Kevin declared.

"That's not for us to decide," Topher reminded him. "It's God's place to judge them, so that means we don't have to."

"You and God really need to get a room," the Chinese boy joked, and Topher leaned down and cupped his hand in the ocean water, throwing it up at him. Kevin squawked and tried to shield himself with his hands. Topher splashed him again, laughing, and Kevin grabbed his wrist to stop him doing it a third time. Kevin also grabbed Topher's left wrist, and the boys laughed before they suddenly pressed their lips together. For six, seven, eight seconds they kissed, then kissed again, lowering their hands. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen seconds. Topher quivered. Suddenly he felt cold, as though Kevin's lips were the only source of heat he had access to.

Kevin pulled himself away and shuffled backwards, a look of confusion and shame on his face. Topher looked at him, intensely, guiltily. He hadn't intended for that to happen. Not again. Kevin hoisted himself back up on the pipe and began walking away.

"We shouldn't have done that," Kevin muttered. "Why would you do that?"

"I... I didn't mean to... you did it too!" Topher stammered, drawing his feet from the water and standing himself up, following his friend back to the sand.

"You should have stopped me!" Kevin was getting angrier and ran his hands through his short, buzzed black hair. "Why don't you ever stop me?"

"Uh... um..." Topher was at a loss for words. He didn't want to stop him. He wanted it every bit as much as his friend.

"Why do you keep tempting me?" Kevin shouted suddenly, trying to shove his wet feet into his socks. "What's the matter with you?"

"I didn't mean to," Topher raised his hands. "I'm sorry if you think I did."

"Do you ever stop to think?" Kevin asked, progressing to his shoes. "Did you think for a minute that maybe God is separating us to punish us?"

"No, I don't accept that," Topher shook his head and sat next to Kevin. "God didn't put into another school, Kev. Your parents did."

Kevin exhaled angrily through his cute button nose and looked to the sky. It was lighter now. The sun was up, and the day had officially begun.

"Whether it's God or my parents, it's the same thing, isn't it?" Kevin thought aloud. "We have to stop. That's what God is telling us."

"Alright," Topher didn't mean to sound as sad as he did. "I'm not sure I agree with you, but I respect your boundaries, and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Kevin sighed. He hopped to his feet. "We're going to miss breakfast if we don't hurry."

The run back wasn't as enjoyable as the run to the pipe. Kevin barely said a word, and that was upsetting. They'd always been able to talk freely with each other, but ever since the first kiss happened last year, things had begun to get awkward between them. Now he's leaving me, Topher thought sadly. Maybe is he right, after all. What we are doing is wrong. I just don't understand how it feels wrong for Flash but... I don't feel that way.

The two broke off when they scaled the manmade stairs to the road above the beach. Topher lived a mere three minutes away by foot, but Kevin had further to go. From the look of the sun, they were running late today. Kevin would almost certainly be in trouble. Every Monday, Father Jon and Gwen, Topher's parents, would host sort of a communal breakfast for the little four-family clique today. Kevin's parents would be here, as would Kevin and his two little sisters. Zack was away training with the armed forces and his brother wouldn't be coming either, but and his parents would be here. Hannah, a year younger than the other boys who went to the same school Kevin would be attending, would be there with her mother and three little brothers and sisters. The house was going to be full soon.

Before setting foot inside, Topher made sure to dust the sand from his feet. It was much warmer now, and Topher enjoyed the feel of the sunlight embracing him. Life is beautiful, he reaffirmed. Even if I'm not. Inside, he could already smell bacon and his empty stomach began to rumble. Father Jon was by the stovetop and gave a warm greeting at the sight of his son. Gwen, however, was at the table and Topher knew already she was in a horrible mood.

"There you are, Christopher!" Gwen barked, irritably. "I had to set the table myself, waiting for you! If you can't be bothered to be back on time when you're out on the beach, then you can stop going altogether!"

"I'm only ten minutes late," Topher objected, defensively folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sorry, we lost track of time."

"Don't just stand there half naked! We have company, go and get decent!"

"Yeees, Muuum," Topher's voice was full of cheek and dripping with insolence. She was being unfair, and he was irritated.

"And for heaven's sake, wash your feet before you come back inside!"

"Yeees, Muuum."

"Now! Hurry! We need you in here to help, not to stand around!"

"Yeees, Muuum."

"Don't be impertinent!" Gwen stood up and pointed at him. "I don't like the tone of your voice, Christopher."

Topher was irritated and embarrassed by her display. Aside from the bacon sizzling in the pan, the room was completely silent. Topher made a show of humbling himself, bowing his head and clasping his hands in front of him.

"Yes, Mum," he said, pretending to be as obnoxiously sincere as he could. There was some laughter from Jon, and he couldn't help but smirk. With his eyes lowered to the floor, he didn't see what Gwen was doing. Her open palm hit him across his face, with all of her strength and weight behind it.

His head snapped to the side so quickly that Jon yelled in anger and concern. The sound her hand created when it connected with his left cheek was so loud that it caused a sharp ringing in his left ear. The stinging pain caused tears to wet his eyelashes. She struck him frequently, but she had never done it in front of Jon before. It was the shock that debilitated Topher the most. Feeling his lip threaten to quiver, Topher quickly turned around and shut the hallway door behind him. He held a hand to his face as he leapt up the stairs and shut his bedroom door as well.

"Those who spare the rod hate their children, but those who love them are diligent to discipline them," Topher whispered the words to himself as they echoed through his mind, screamed at him by his mother. He examined

the redness of his face and sighed. Wincing as his whole head ached, he stepped into his ensuite and turned on the shower, hot enough for it to be mildly painful. He liked to be near poached when he was done. "For God said, 'Honour your father and your mother,' and 'whoever speaks evil of father or mother must surely die,'" Topher once again whispered the words out loud as they went screeching through his memory.

[+]

Desperate to distract himself, he began to wash, scrubbing hard with the shower puff. His thoughts shifted to Hannah Phillips, his friend, the pretty girl who would soon be downstairs, if she wasn't already. She was a beauty, he thought. Shapely and fit, an hourglass figure and a cute, pert butt. You shouldn't be thinking of her like that, he lectured himself, but his hand had already betrayed him, massaging his hard dick, seven inches and uncut. You've already been in here too long, he thought. If you're here for much longer, someone will come and get you. Who cares? He gripped his dick and began to stroke it, back and forth, up and down. It felt good to make himself feel good.

His thoughts returned to Hannah, what she might be hiding underneath her fuschia blouse. Her pretty hand was the one on his dick now, her pretty, slim fingers playing with it. He let her jerk him fast, then faster, harder.

"Oh... ah..." he moaned softly, the hot water enveloping his whole body. "Oh Han..." He looked up at her face, and she was smiling coyly at him, the way she always did. She leaned over and kissed him, kissed him tenderly on the lips. He opened his mouth and her tongue entered, the two of them both starting to make noises of passion now.

When Hannah pulled away, Topher saw that it wasn't her after all. Kevin's gorgeous black eyes were looking right at him, but there was no fear. No shame. No guilt. He was just enjoying himself, enjoying Topher. He looked down and Kevin's tanned fingers were around his cock, pulling it, playing with it. Topher slipped his hand down Kevin's slacks and felt the warm, hard dick in there, making Kevin's eyes roll back in his head. He tugged it out of the confines of Kevin's underwear and used his hand to pleasure his best friend. They leaned in and kissed again, their tongues wrestling furiously, fighting for dominance.

Suddenly Kevin's hand got tighter, and he jerked faster, and... and... Topher moaned out loud as he came on his tiled wall, shooting two, five, nine times before finally stopping. Topher's knees were shaking with the

intensity of his orgasm. When he opened his eyes, he was saddened, for Kevin was not there. He wasn't sad about losing him in his fantasy, though - he was sad because Kevin rejected him, he thought what they were doing was wrong. Although it was Topher's own ensuite bathroom, he knew Gwen liked to snoop in case he was doing anything he shouldn't be. He couldn't leave any evidence for her.

[-]

He'd dried off and put on his briefs and a pair of blue checkered shorts before there was a knock at the door. That was a relief, he thought. Gwen never knocked, she always walked right in. Father Jon was much more respectful of his son's privacy and boundaries.

"Come in," Topher fished a plain white tee-shirt out of his shirt drawer as his father came in. The first thing Jon did was to touch Topher's face, to look at where Gwen's hand had hit him.

"She really got you good," he remarked sadly, gently stroking Topher's cheek with his finger. "Are you alright? I came up earlier, but you were in the shower."

"I... I'm fine," Topher lied, forcing a smile on his face. "I shouldn't have provoked her."

"She had no right to do that," Jon disagreed with him, his voice thick with rage. "Your mother is sick, and we will pray for her as much as we can, but she should not be laying her hands on you, and I make sure she never does it again. You're a blessing, Topher. A long time ago, I was not a true believer. Neither was Mum, but she wouldn't admit that these days. Gwen and I... well, we were told we would never be able to have children, and we accepted that, but God saw fit to give us a son. Not just any child, but the most perfect one anyone could ask for. We could have had a son that was vicious like Zackary, or a deviant like Veikko Carlisle, but He gave you to us. You are our little miracle. When you were born, I knew in my heart that God is here, and that was the day I knew I was meant to be a man of the cloth. Sometimes, just between you, me and the man upstairs, I do struggle with my faith, particularly during these difficult times, but when I look at you, it all becomes clear again. You are all the proof I need."

"I'm not, though. I'm not a blessing, or a miracle," Topher admitted, unable to look his father in the eye. "I'm... I did something wrong today."

"Did you hurt someone?" Jon asked, using his finger to tilt Topher's head back so that they could maintain eye contact.

"No."

"Did you steal something?"

"No."

"Did you make a pact with Lucifer?"

"No," Topher giggled, in spite of the conflict inside him. Father Jon was popular amongst the community. He made both Mass and Sunday School enjoyable and interactive with his sense of humour and warm heart, a priest indiscriminate and supportive to everyone. Not a father to Topher alone, but to everybody who needed one.

"Then I don't see it being a problem," Jon grinned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"...No," Topher sighed, and sat back on his bed. Jon leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead.

"Take your time, son. If you decide you do want to talk about it, you know where to find me," Jon gave him a supportive pat on the back.

"Dad, I don't want to go downstairs while everyone's here," Topher admitted, sheepishly. "Can I stay up here until I have to go to school? Please?"

"If you're not feeling well, I'm not going to drag you out of here," Jon reassured him with a wink. "You're not going hungry, though, so I'll bring something up for you shortly. Just don't get used to being waited on, and don't make a habit of being anti-social."

Topher's smile was big enough to nearly touch his ears, he was sure. Everything is going to be okay, he told himself as he heard his father descending the creaky staircase.

"'I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born,' says the Lord," he whispered, the words an echo not of his mother's, but his father's.

[Note] Topher can come across as too perfect at this point - this is both intentional and temporary. Where Veikko and Dom are going through their journeys, Topher's is only beginning.


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