Jack lived with us for 5, or 6, years, until we got sick of his antics and we sent him off to live with his mother, Marie Campbell, who lived in the house next door. Oh yes, in a moment of family bonding, she bought the house next to me.
That’s been okay. She got new job she loves and I don’t see a whole lot of her. Occasionally, we meet up down the dog park and we chat civilly. Actually, because I have no skin in the game, as they say, Marie and I get on pretty honestly with each other. She has learned that I don’t tell everyone else her business, so we are pretty honest with each other. It’s kind of weird, we’d have such a relationship, who’d have thought.
The thing being, that the change of address did nothing for Jack’s sense of direction, so every weekend, after popping pills and dancing and trying to pick up birds, Jack would appear in our lounge room, collapsed across one of our couches, across a whole couch, so nobody could sit down. He would suddenly come in, and crash between two people if no space to sit, actually, existed. Until one of us managed to wake him to tell him to go and find a bed to sleep in.
The thing was that Jack’s room had been taken by our youngest member of the household, Jamie Brown. 19 year old blonde curly-haired, blue-eyed western suburbs lad, who Liam and I found hugging a club toilet hand sink pedestal, sobbing.
“Nobody likes me, I have no friends, I will never fit in here.”
“Oh Jamie, it gets better.” He looked around at us with teary eyes. “Come with us.”
We took Jamie home and showed him love, Liam and I. Another young life fixed, even if I do say so myself.
Jamie had our room on the weekends. Jamie came to stay with us from Friday to Sunday, on many weekends.
Then Jack moved next door. And Jamie got kicked out of home when his parent’s found out he was gay. So, Jamie got Jack’s old room, when he was thrown out on the street.
“In the beginning, it was very slow. I didn’t know how to pick up guys,” said Jamie. He was lying in his room, late Sunday, wishing for the guy he’d fancied at the club he’d just been to, but didn’t have guts to approach, when he prayed to God.
“Please, give me him, even just for a little while, and I promise I will get more confidence and flirt with guys and do it myself. But just this once,” Jamie told us, “I kid you not.”
“Which god were you praying to?” I asked.
“You know, mother Mary, Joseph and Jesus.”
“The god that says being gay is a sin?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Jamie.
“Jesus never said it was a sin,” said Liam. “He thought it was so important, he never mentioned it at all.”
Jack had been downstairs taking up the whole couch in an-out-of-it stupor. and we’d told him to go find somewhere else to sleep. We meant his own place, next door, with his mother.
“Go home, Jack, and sleep.”
Jack gets up complaining and disappears. Unbeknownst to us, Jack headed upstairs, stripped to his jocks and crashed through his old bed room door and collapsed on the bed, nearly naked. When Jamie complained about the intrusion, Jack simply took Jamie in his big, naked arms and pulled Jamie to him, spooning the little guy. Jamie slept naked, Jack had on a pair of his loose boxer shorts like he always did.
“His bulge was pushed up against my arse, his naked chest and arms were around my naked body,” said Jamie. “It was heaven.”
That is how Jamie woke up on the Sunday mornings, Jack would come crashing into Jamie's room drunk, wrapped in Jack’s naked arms. Jack wouldn’t go home to next door, he’d head upstairs to his old room, mindless.
“I don’t really mind,” said Jamie.
If Jamie fidgeted about too much in the early morning, Jack would push his hardon into Jamie to tell him to stop fidgeting.
“I don’t mind being told to keep still that way,” said Jamie with a cheeky smile.
Jack would crash in my bed in an ill fitting pair of boxer shorts on, barely covering him. And he slept the sleep of the dead.
“So, I’ve played with it,” said Jamie. “It gets hard easily. Jack has a nice, fat cock.” He’d say it like a naughty boy as he lay between Liam and me.
“Jamie?” we questioned.
“Well, it’s my bed. He really has no consideration for me,” said Jamie. “What does he expect? Really? He does it all the time.”
We’d both laugh.
There was another time when Jack crashed home from a night out, had a shower first, and then got into bed mindlessly with Jamie naked. Jack has a habit of lying on his back.
“That night I took Jack’s cock in my mouth for the first time,” said Jamie. “I sucked it until it was rock hard, stretching all of its skintight.” Then he got too nervous and stopped, worried what would happen if Jack woke up.
The thing with Jack is that he never remembers what happened. He used to wake up on our couch 3pm Sunday and have no idea what had happened the previous 24 hours.
Another time Jamie was sucking Jack’s cock, and he felt Jack’s hands grip his head. “You shouldn’t be doing that, little man,” Jack’s voice croaked. Then Jack grabbed him by the armpits and pulled him up to face to face with Jack. Jack exhaled, then he rolled Jamie over and spooned him.
“Seriously,” said Jack. “Now, go to sleep.”
Jamie felt Jack’s hardon fade away.
Jack looks after Jamie at dance parties, nights out. He is always walking hand in hand with Jamie through the crowd, seemingly watching over him. They always say they are brothers. Jamie always tells gay guys that Jack is his big brother. They can always be found on the dance floor dancing in each other’s arms.
When they are really high on drugs, it is so cute when Jamie asks Jack to kiss him. Some times when they have kissed, Jamie will say, "You can do better than that." And Jack will really pash Jamie passionately, after which Jamie will look all google-eyed. And Jack will laugh.
There was the time Jack and Jamie, dressed in matching school boy uniforms, playing little brother, big brother boyfriends so believably at Red Raw, that they had all the gay boys sniffing around for a piece of threesome action. With Jamie’s hair buzz cut like Jack’s, they really looked alike.
“I’ve never seen that side of gay men before,” said Jack. “Yikes. Those guys were deadly serious sick puppies.”
Jack's been known to throw Jamie over his shoulder on more than one occasion.
Apparently, one night, Jack crashed into Jamie’s room, stripped to his jocks, without realising Jamie was awake and wanking to old school Jeff Stryker porn. "Have you seen the schlong on that dude?"
Jamie said he was peeking on the drugs he’d taken when he got home, and he wanted to continue with Jeff to the end.
Jack, apparently, eyes as big as planets, shaking and chattering, hesitated momentarily, brooding good looks, arms, chest, abs, bulge, legs, and then proceeded, to lie on the edge of Jamie’s bed facing the wall.
“What a big, beefy butt Jack has,” said Jamie. “I really wanted to reach over and touch it.”
Jamie heard Jack sigh a few times, a bit later.
“What are you doing?” grumbled Jack.
“Nothing,” said Jamie.
“How long is it going to take,” said Jack.
Jamie said it was his bed, after all, so he kept pulling himself. Once he’d cum, and he’d pulled out his headphones, he felt, perhaps, a little guilty, only to hear Jack snoring.
