If I Should Fall: The Second Book of Geshichte Falls

LOVE

(Conclusion)

Opening his eyes in lovemaking Chayne had seen the barely visible print of the thin moon on the white morning. All of the days since Rob had come to him felt like the sun. Tonight, in the house that was quiet when Anigel stayed with her sister and Russell was staying with friends, Rob had undressed him and straddled him and taken Chayne’s hands to his sides, up and down his white body.

“Who’s your blue eyed boy?” he whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “Tell me who’s your blue eyed boy?”

Rob’s eyes were merry like an elves and his skin was cool to the touch, but when Chayne’s hands remained on him, warm with the heat beneath, warm with the beating heart that had slept in this bed beside him since summer began.

Coolness and predictability, a sort of invulnerability was what Chayne knew, what defined him in this life, that and being ahead of the game and ahead of everyone around him, but he found that he was never ahead of Rob and these days, never invulnerable to him. The September coolness came through the window, but the heat of the bed, or Rob’s limbs moving with him as they strove together was more than a match, and that… crescent… of moon… was like the light at the very tip of…

Chayne gasped as his head went into Rob’s damp shoulder and their bodies contracted, slowly released together, both of them shuddering, squeezing together as climax overtook them. Even when it was done it was not done, and they lay in the bed, fingers still linked, hands still touching.

 

“Rob, Look over there,” Chayne said at last, gesturing over Rob so that he had to turn around.

“The table.”

Rob stretched, stood up and went to it and Chayne looked over his young, narrow body and missed him eve though he was right there.

A pile of folders and notebooks and bound sheaves of typed papers were on the table, and Rob looked from them to Chayne.

“If you want them,” said Chayne. “those are all the things I did between high school and when I started college. The original Chayne.”

Rob had been absently scratching his ass and now he turned to his lover.

“Only if you want them—”

“Chayne!” Rob said.

Chayne propped himself up on one elbow.

“And they wouldn’t really give you any tips, except for how not to write.”

“Chayne, shut up!”

Rob came back to bed, kissing him hard on his mouth.

“I love you.”

 

Jason Lorry loves Saturdays, and he loves these Saturdays which have occurred for the last month or so. For two years he was like some broken down thing, hollering for Russell Lewis, but doing it badly, wanting to be in his presence, but hating himself for it, and then, in the end, simply wanting to be in his presence.

That first night, when Ralph’s sister in law had her baby, Russell was in this house and Jason had seen that strange, funny boy who was wittier and odder than anyone he had ever known, whom, deep inside, he was sure would never want to be bothered with someone as slow as him, could not be fooled as girls were fooled, and he had kissed him. He had put his hands to Russell’s hair and he had tasted his mouth and his mouth tasted like spearmint. He had been making out with Russell, and then they’d had to stop and go back to join Ralph and see the baby and come back into the real world.

For all of that day Jason wondered if what had happened with Russell was real. Sex was real. He’d been fucking and smoking pot since he was fourteen, and in India he’d had his first time with a boy. He knew all about sex, but he had never been in love, never been kissed by someone he was in love with. Girls had loved him, mooned over him, but this was something so different. If anyone had asked him how he felt that night when Russell had come to his back door, he would have said he felt like a virgin. He felt shy and nervous, but with none of the bravado he’d shown on that first, first time over three years ago.

He loved all of his time with Russell, but he loved this time because right now, he was not lagging behind him. Right now he was not trying to keep up with Russell’s impulses or his mind. Right now he did not feel slightly dwarfed by him. Right now he could simply adore him. In the grey light of morning, Russell lay stretched out and nude, his sleeping face turned from Jason and curtained by his red hair. Jason lay on his side, curled and savoring the nearly six foot length of the other boy, the milkiness of long feet, calves, strong thighs, the round hills of Russell’s dimpled buttocks and the long spine leading up to his long back. He was beautiful, especially when he opened his green cat eyes, and he didn’t even know it.

“What time is it?” Russell wondered, stretching as he yawned, and turning around.

He was so gentle, but in these last few weeks less gentle. Jason didn’t answer because, for a moment his mind was still back in just a few hours ago, when he had bent himself like an accordion and felt the full force of Russell. There was something about teaching the gentle boy to be fierce, holding onto his arms while Russell planted his hands on his shoulders, looking up into Russell’s face and teaching a boy that he’d known to be nervous, quiet, but fierce…. Teaching him how…. To fuck.

“It’s almost eight,” Jason yawned, brushing Russell’s hair from his face. Strands of red caught his fingers.

“You wansome breakfast?”

Russell yawned and slowly turned in a circle and was back on his side.

“I want to sleep another hour, but I’m so, so hungry too.”

“Well,” Jason grinned, unable to look at Russell while he made jokes about sex, “I know what wore you out.”

Jason got out of bed and felt Russell’s eyes on him and he was glad to know he was as gorgeous to Russell as he was to everyone else. Well, more so, because he and Russell became deeper friends and kept making love and still Russell thought he was beautiful. Jason slipped on shorts and a tee shirt, but left his underwear on the floor and then pulled his keys off the bureau.

“Three sausage biscuits with eggs and two large orange juices?”

“You’d go to McDonalds for me?” Russell said, yawning and smiling.

“I’m already on my way.”

 

Late that morning when Russell came home, his parents were drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes in the kitchen. Russell poured himself a cup and stood in the doorway, preparing to go upstairs. 

“Did you have a good night?” he asked.

“Yes,” they said.

“Did you talk about me?”

Paying full attention to the mug of coffee she was stirring, Patti said, “Contrary to you belief, we do talk about other things besides Russell Fenian Lewis.”

Russell tilted his head, sipped his coffee and then said, “Oh, you had sex. Happy for you. Glad I missed it,” and quick as that, he went up the kitchen stair.

Thom raised a dark eyebrow in the direction of his son, and then looked to his wife.

Patti looked back at her husband.

“He’s your son.”

 

 

 

When Rob had told Chayne about his cousin, Chayne said, “Nehru and Brad. But isn’t Brad with that white woman in the library?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Chayne said. “If you’re leaving, I’m going to visit Jewell.”

“But how do I look?” Rob demanded.

Rob was in a silky white, red and yellow paisley shirt, and snug ripped and faded jeans that made a delight of his ass. He wore round framed shades and had tinted his hair brunette and blond.

“Too young for me,” Chayne said, frankly.

“Oh, good, you can tell me that when I’m energetically fucking you tonight.”

Rob slipped on his turquoise ring and stuck out his tongue.

“No one else coming?” he shouted down the hall.

The someone else would have been Anigel who did not answer because she had chosen to sleep all day, told them this already and assumed that not saying anything was saying plenty.

Russell and Gilead had gone to Mark Young’s track mete, which Rob thought should have been over by now, but maybe they were just doing whatever teens and Geschichte Falls did.

“Alright,” Rob said, “I’m off to the Noble Red.”

“Are you interfering with Nehru?” Chayne asked as he kissed Rob.

Rob nodded and lowered his shades over his blue eyes.

“Only if I’m able.”