Bit of a warning with this one, the material, as the title dutifully implies, rather explicit. No complaints please, you’ve been freely warned.
Chapter Two
Unrequited Sex
The way is prepared, I topple every hindrance. A lion roars in Zion! The gate will open; even now I forge the key.
My imperfect children, long has the waiting night held me, vast was the darkness of its womb, but soon am I borne, the seed is well grown, the pasture prepared.
Yet… are you ready? Have you heard? Will you hide when the trumpet sounds? Will you die beneath the weight of it, or swim like the naiad, a part of and beneath its amorous waters? Will you take root and flourish like the petals of Eden, the alien plumes of worlds apart, or fall upon the hard earth and be choked by the venom of your own hearts?
Oh, my sweet, inconstant stars, shine brightly now! Be strong, and give me your strength!
I pray for you on this day. I pray that your bellies shall be unto a well whose walls are guard of a bottomless depth, only satisfied by unrighteous blood, and that your mind is pure unto the steadfastness of your heart.
Sharpen your teeth like cut diamond. Bare claws, don armor, gird yourself with wisdom, and shy from the reticent bosom of the common humanity that defeats you.
Call out to me and I shall hear, come to me and I shall make you whole!
A day comes to crown all days, and God shall rise as well as Gods shall, then will we cut into this world like a dagger, and open its arterial firmament as libation for our cause. The day is coming! So soon, the day is-
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“COMING!” the entire class began to “Ooo…” as Garren awoke from sleep at his back-of-the-class desk.
“Who’s cumming?” someone shouted to the delight of the rest of the room. Garren smiled stupidly.
“Your mother, Flynn!” Garren retorted.
“Now quiet down!” Mrs. Draken, the advanced English teacher, had had enough. She had taught kindergarten up until last year and decided to fill the much needed AE class for the pay up-grade.
“How would you feel if I fell asleep while you were reading, Mr. Acsel?”
“He can’t read!” Flynn sat back in his chair in petty satisfaction.
“That is quite enough rudeness for one period.” Mrs. Draken’s eye brows almost rose into her hair line.
“Now Garren, since you fell asleep during Persy’s turn, you will be finishing out the chapter. Try falling asleep then.” Her mouth formed a well controlled smile as she passed back to her all too cutely ornamented desk.
Harker felt empathetically embarrassed for Garren, but dared not look back. It was Garren’s fault, the situation he was in; the crisis, his ego whiplash, the psychological vertigo that you feel when self perception is skewed by self doubt.
It was less than a month ago. Harker was throwing another party at his house. His parents were god knows where again, so he took the opportunity to invite a couple dozen acquaintances over to help the liquor industry out by emptying said cabinet. His parents always refilled it without a word, which made Harker blindly angry for reasons he no longer really understood. So the parties got bigger, and his glass more frequently emptied.
Harker had made an exquisitely difficult drinking game, as it was his hobby to do, with some artfully created cards that demanded for the party goers to perform repetitious nonsense and physical stupidity that grew in difficulty the longer you lasted, and even more so because the drunker you were.
They played it in his bachelor pad of a room, a room that actually did once belong to his father before he was “joined” to his wife in the ‘60s, complete with a permanently affixed, circular bed that is rumored once to have been able to turn 360 degrees, and a ceiling mirror right above it, for those times when you just need to look up from the hooker your banging and flash that thousand watt smile or pick parsley form your teeth.
Harker had never lost a game, and Garren had never lost anything, so both were blitheringly determined to win, i.e. be the last to pass out or vomit on the shag carpeting.
Over the years the deck of cards had grown to a little over a hundred, but was at the moment looking quite sparse. They both stood resolutely on one leg in their boxers as Garren slurred the words to Ave Maria while doing his best Jimmy Durante, when the last person left the room. It sounded like a small skirmish had broken out in the backyard and as far as high school goes, a good fight is almost as good as a NASCAR crash to feast your eyes on.
Garren had finished his song with a hardy “Ha cha cha cha cha!”
“I am impressed, sir. Sadly you are still going to lose this one, buddy. You are staring at the reigning champ.” Harker beamed as he looked over at the jock-built boy standing in front of him, and perhaps looked a bit too long under the influence.
“Admiring my handy work, I see.” The boy said swaying on his leg smirking arrogantly. “Don’t be afraid to be impressed, Nancy boy.” He flexed his biceps. “These guns don’t come cheap, bro.”
“Did you just call me, Nancy boy? What- uh- bad eighties movie did you watch before you came over here, Animal House?” Harker said as if these words were profoundly clever.
“Fucking Sixteen Candles, so draw a fucking card, dude.” He also thought this was some how quite funny.
Harker furrowed his brows as if accepting this battle of wits. “Okay then, Mr. Gun Show, lets see what you got.” He drew up the card with what he thought was a flourish, held for suspense a bit too long, wobbled, then looked over it.
He immediately deflated. “And now I shall draw the next card and then we will see what you got, Mr. Gun-“
“Ha!”
“Ha, what do you mean ha?”
“I win, motherfucker!”
“No you fucking don’t!”
“Your rules, if you can’t do what the car says then you’re out. That’s how everyone else got out, ‘cause they were pussies, ‘cept for Flynn, I think he’s passed out on your toilet still, which is awesome. So you gonna be a pussy too, Nancy?”
“Alright then, duuuude, you tell me who the pussy is.” He handed Garren the card which depicted a big exaggerated pair of puckered lips and a guy making out with a cat for some reason.
Garren contemplated it, then threw the card on the floor. It floated innocently to the shag, the cartoony words “Make Out…” were all that could be read in the shadows.
He looked up at Harker and tilted his head for a moment as if to appraise his price. He hopped over to the door, closed, and locked it, then hopped back over to Harker who was faking his snarkiest smile as his heart began to beat faster with each of Garren’s one footed bounds.
Was it fear? Yes, yet some how it also felt dangerously like excitement, curiosity, and he was struggling with how to accept this. In the end he settled on the fact that he simply would not lose to this douche jock, and stood his ground.
Garren looked at him with grave sincerity, his frosty blue eyes piercing through Harker’s resolve like a wet t-shirt.
Harker starred right back, trying his hand at a look of grave sincerity, which probably came over as more of a look of a drunken eye exam, as his eyes wondered unintentionally.
Garren’s skin was tanned and looked soft to the touch, but his muscles rippled, hard, and perhaps a little exaggerated in the dim lamp light. His hair fell in gently wavy pieces, and a few strands now fell over one of his eyes. Harker remained a carved statue, perfectly still, full of exaggerated resolve, and motionless for the fear that he might start shaking.
They had been standing there for an eternity, another game. Who would crack, who would run away, lose, a game of what the kids at school playfully called “Gay Chicken”. Harker moved not an inch. Garren smiled that tight arrogant grin.
“Welp, Nancy, looks like you’ve got tickets to the gun show.” He grabbed Harker with both hands on either side of his head and crumbled him down slowly to his warm, moist lips, which parted, waiting, with the seeming illusion of eagerness.
Harker held fast against the electric feelings inside of him, buzzing under and over his skin. He unintentionally moved his hand up Garren’s side and touch his arm. He felt shocked at how solid they felt, and grasped it as Garren invaded his mouth with a tactful movement of his tongue. Garren liked being good at this, and Harker could tell.
Garren kept one hand on Harker’s defined jaw, placed the other behind his head to eliminate all distance possible between them, and garnered all control. He bit Harker’s bottom lip and tugged it just a bit, then let it go, Harker gasped as quietly as he could, which made Garren even more ravenous. He lowered the hand on Harker’s cheek to the small of his back and pulled his body to him.
Harker felt the sensation of skin touching skin. He felt the detail of each balled abdominal muscle against his own trim frame, and he felt the cushion of Garren’s broad pectorals pressing, then giving into softness as the muscles flexed and relaxed, and all this prevaded with embracing warmth.
Oh dear god! Harker thought and forced himself to pull away. He stood stiffly and turned around; embarrassed, unbelieving that he had actually gotten an erection from this silly game. F-my-life! Dear god, why do I have to be in my boxers right now!?
“Its okay”, Garren said, “I could give an arm chair an erection.” He laughed. Harker did not see the humor.
“What? Did I just turn you gay, Nancy?” Garren laughed again.
Harker’s sexuality had never been questioned before, not by anyone, and certainly not by himself. He had sex with girls, he liked doing it, but there was something different about this, he knew it, and he was sick with it.
The kiss had meant something and he only knew because it made all the kisses before it pale, die, and vanish. He couldn’t believe what he was thinking. He didn’t know what he was going to do, he just stood there as still as before and twice as terrified, he began to quiver ever so slightly, the quivering for fear of want.
Then warmth wrapped around his naked waist. He snapped back to reality, or was it reality? Because what was happening around him now made even less sense than what was happening in his terror stricken mind; the structures of his persona bore stress cracks that he had never known were there, or didn’t know needed repair, and now never could be. Harker knew, in one of those clear and fleeting moment of truth, as strong arms wrapped around him, and the warmth of a man’s body set slowly against his back, that this would ruin him, irreparable.
“It’s okay to like it.” Garren said with a voice that didn’t sound like the Garren Harker once knew. Harker so wanted to turn, but was still too confused to move, frozen, breaking.
Garren turned him on his heel, and stared into Harker’s deep green eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” said moving the straight black hair out of Harker’s face, “kiss me.” He seemed to be talking to Harker, but something seemed removed, he spoke in a dream, or in the past.
“Uh, thank you.” Harker said, which was the only thing that seemed to come to his mind.
Garren smiled slyly and put a hand once again behind Harker’s head and pulled him into his full pink lips.
Harker only resisted as much as his muscles naturally did when not acting on their own, he thought that this was a good enough fight for his pride, at least for the moment.
In the rapture of the perfect kisses Harker finally found himself again. He raised back from Garren and found this moment, he resolved to see objectively this beautiful person in front of him, damasked in slinking shadows and orange light, this person who thought he was beautiful too and he did the most dangerous thing of all… gave in completely.
He grabbed Garren and pulled him over, kissing him with fire on his lips. He caressed his fine muscles, and ran his fingers up his smooth back, and Garren followed suit, discovering Harker’s long gracful body.
Harker began to kiss Garren’s neck and Garren moaned quietly. Knowing he found a point of interest, he bit down and, as he hoped, Garren moaned louder. He kissed Garren’s chest, reaching down, fingers caressing, and found the elastic strap of Garren’s boxers.
After a moments hesitation his hand descended further, slowly, pressing gently but persistently down through the curling brown sugary hair he found what he tentativly saught. He held it in his hand, gripping it for a moment, feeling its weight and texture while Garren nibbled his ear. Harker raised his left eye brow, as he often did whenever confused or surprised… he was both at the moment.
He gripped it a tad harder, enjoying the smoothness of its texture, and the very presence of it. He began moving his hand up and then slowly back down, much as he had done to his self before. Garren locked lips with him again, as he began to do the same.
Garren moved a hand over to Harker’s nipple and began to give a subtle pinching. Green eyes went wide as sensation he never thought might be pleasurable ignited nerves all over the body and pleasure is what it was.
Garren pulled away. “Looks like I’m teaching you a few new things.” He laughed a bit, then pulled down his boxers.
“Lesson number two,” Harker stood a bit vexed, dealing with new levels of awkward acceptance, and the fact that Garren Acsel would be teaching him anything in this lifetime also caused him to marvel.
“Oh don’t worry, I just want you to initial it. Then maybe I could get your John Hancock too. ” He thought he was so funny. “Well, your mouth is open, that’s a start.”
Hark closed his mouth, not realizing that it had indeed been open in some kind of astonished wonder/anger/confusion/arousal feeling.
Harker coughed awkwardly. “You don’t have to clear your throat or anything, that’s what this is for.”
Harker got down on his knees, morbidly curious about imminent things, like taste, breathing, and the how of it all. He had girlfriends before, he was sure he could hum a few bars, as it were.
“It won’t bite.” Garren assured, as he winked down at him.
Harker opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around it. Fit well enough not to be too awkward. He started to make the motions, as if his hand was his mouth. Then he had a thought, and at intervals began to apply suction. Garren was greatly pleased, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, savoring the feeling through the deprivation of sight, and reveling in triumph.
Harker discovered that he had room to move his tongue, and did so, now adding to the speed of it.
An elongated “Wooooow” crept out of Garren’s mouth. “You… are… a fucking wonder!”
Harker felt a strange pride creeping over him and he went about perfecting the art of this clumsy process. Harker was a man of precision, after all. The knack was pretty easy. Garren was gasping every now and then as Harker tried new things that seemed like they might naturally go along with the other multi tasks currently under going, and began varying them for the effect of surprising the sensation.
“Oh my god, you’re a natural. Oh my god-“
This last exclamation came at a different tone, as the creak of a door was heard.
There was Flynn, a slender noodle of a boy with his short, cropped, red hair, wiping his mouth as he stopped dead in the door way.
Garren pulled out of Harker’s mouth and walked over to Flynn. Harker had just enough time to turn around and see Garren sock Flynn square between the eyes. Flynn fell like a chopped tree to the linoleum floor.
“Holy shit!” Harker said, in concern for the human carrot sprawled out on the bathroom floor, and then “Holy shit!” for altogether other reasons.
“It’s okay.” Garren said for the second time, this time it was a bit less effective. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, trust me, he won’t say a word.”
“You punched Thin Flynn Nickels into a coma!”
“Which is good. Dude, he was so drunk he probably won’t even remember.” He approached Harker again and put his hands around his waist. “Now then, where were we?”
“At the part where you punched that poor kid in the face.”
“Come on Harker.” He was kissing Harker’s neck up to his ears, rubbing his back. Harker got chills.
“No, Garren, this is- oh. “ Garren nibbled.
Harker pulled away resolutely and walked straight for the bathroom, stopping abruptly at the door… and slamming it closed. He approached Garren again, making an expression as if to say, “I still don’t know what to do.”
Garren bit his tongue and smiled again. “You’re so fucking cute.”
He grabbed Harker by the shoulders and threw him on the bed, then leapt on top of him. He grabbed Harker’s hand s and pulled them above his head, pinning him to the spot. Garren began dry humping up against him, which felt good and strange in all sorts of ways. Then, releasing his hands again, he began stroking Harker as he moved his other hand suspiciously down in between Harker’s legs, at which point Harker became a little unsure about this whole thing all together.
“Uh…” was all he could say, then he said something like “Unnnnguh” as Garren made oceanic motions with his finger while still stroking.
Hark opened his mouth to gasp but Garren had already put his tongue in it and the gasp was quickly converted into a fierce kiss. Then Garren stopped stroking, put his hand to his lips and licked it coyly. He gave himself a few strokes.
In between gasping and kissing Harker could finally say “Uh, wait a second-“and so learned that Garren is not much of a waiter.
“Holy Jesus!” Harker sputtered as Garren entered without knocking and began making succinct motions with his hips.
“Garren… Garren… GARREN!” Hark finally found Garren’s attention.
“What’s up?” he said without stopping or opening his eyes.
“Stop.” Harker said then gasped.
“No, its okay, it only hurts for a sec.”
“No, I figured that it- it might hurt, but…” he lost words and gasped again.
Garren began to thrust faster, sensing Harker’s growing apprehension but still wanting to finish. Harker pushed at his chest.
“No, Garren… No… GARREN, CONDOM!” Garren stopped.
“Oh, but I don’t have any.” Harker shoved him off and out of him, but he was still sitting on his knees, between Harker’s legs.
“Aw shit, fine whatever. I’m almost done anyway.” He stroked over Harker’s stomach; Hark gawked in baffled amazement at this man’s gall. Garren began to gasp, then he moaned and stroked faster.
Fast as a whip, he grabbed Harker behind the head and pulled his face up just as warm droplets came slinking down, then more and more, and finally the small amount that leaked onto Hark’s stomach.
Garren released him. Harker no longer gawked, having had just enough time to close his mouth, but stared up, lips pursed, unsure if he was more angry or simply more confused. Nope, he was angry.
Harker’s anger was always silent and poignant, it emanated from him in radioactive waves. Garren must have been made of lead, or perhaps he was just that thick, he seemed not to notice the quiet fury. Garren rolled over and laid down, he clasped his hands behind his head, satisfied as pig at a pie eating contest.
Harker rose slowly and walked toward the bathroom. He opened the door, grabbed Flynn by the ankles, and pulled him unsanctimoniously out over the carpet. Harker went for the facewash and decidedly avoided his reflection as he washed Garren off his face.
“Damn boy, you’re better than my girlfriend,” Garren said from the bed, “feel free to suck my cock anytime, free of charge.”
Harker’s heart had turned from fire, to ashes, to ice, in no time flat. He lifted his head, starred at his clear face, now blemishless, as if nothing had happened, if only it were true. He looked hard into his eyes and told the core of his being a command that must be followed and would not drown. This is NOT what we want. This is ugly and disgusting, that man in there is just a man, men are dogs, and you will not play the bitch for ANYONE.
“Damn, dude, this party got quiet quick. Everyone musta passed out. You know what that means?”
Harker slowly walked back in to the room.
“We can be as loud as we want, Harky-poo.” Harker almost leapt out of his skin and tore Garren’s smug face off, but knowing that Garren could swat him away like a mustache crumb, he thought better of it, as he always did, he was cool, cold as ice, and unfeeling.
Harker gathered his clothes and slowly put them on.
“Where you goin’?”
He didn’t say a word.
“Hey… HEY!”
Harker left the door wide open when he went out. He walked awkwardly over to Gretja’s house, and opened her window, always unlocked. He woke her, and hugged her hard.
It would be hours before he had strength for a retelling of what happened, and the sad confession that even now he had strange feelings for the pitiless man child who was probably sleeping away in his bed, thinking of his girlfriend’s tits.
“I’m that virgin.” He said, collapsing onto her shoulder, knowing he could share anything with her, and too lost to his own grief to see the pain in her eyes.
willnight 