Both Billy and Chris had been fast asleep when George had knocked on the door and entered the bedroom, switching on the light as he did so. They’d stirred as his words had entered their sleep befuddled brains and Billy, who was usually up before Chris in order to go and do his paper round before setting off for school, had automatically pulled away from Chris on hearing George’s voice. Now, he rolled onto his back and as George closed the bedroom door behind him, said, “What the friggin’ ’ell’s ’e on abaht? Bleedin’ Father Christmas don’t exist.”
By now Chris had also started to wake up and he rolled over the other way to look at the alarm clock on his bedside table. As the time its hands showed registered he exclaimed, “Flipping heck! It’s Christmas Day and only just gone seven!”
Raising his voice he yelled out, “And a Happy Christmas to you too George.”
Billy laughed and then added his own shouted wishes, before saying, “S’pose we’d better get up. Anyone’d fink the bleedin’ ’ouse was on fire!”
Upon saying which he threw back the blankets and eiderdown over his side of the bed, shivered as the cold air hit him and as quickly as he could pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper before sticking his feet into the old pair of plimsolls he usually wore round the house. While he was doing that Chris was getting similarly dressed on the other side of the bed. Having done so, Chris stretched and yawned, then said, “Hope this is worthwhile. I’m gonna leave washing and getting decently dressed until we’ve seen what the fuss is about. Ready?”
Billy grunted a response and the pair made their way downstairs to the kitchen with Billy in the lead. As they were descending the stairs a thought occurred to Chris. Perhaps…maybe—but surely that isn’t possible? he thought to himself.
Billy opened the door into the kitchen and walked over to where George was sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea.
“So, what’s all this abaht Father Christmas that ’as you gettin’ me outa a nice warm bed?”
On entering the room Chris had looked over to the box where Lucky slept and then walked over to it and knelt down on the floor.
“It’s this, Billy. Lucky has had her kittens,” he said in a voice tinged with awe.
Billy turned and looked before exclaiming, “Bleedin’ ’ell! Is them kittens? I thought kittens was furry things—them look more like bald mice!”
Now George gave out a little laugh before saying, “They do rather I know. I’ve been reading up some stuff the vet gave me. Their ears won’t come up properly for a day or so and their eyes won’t open for seven to ten days, but after that they’ll start to look more normal.”
“But George we haven’t got any food for them and the shops are shut today and tomorrow—they could starve,” Chris said in a worried tone.
“Don’t panic Chris. They’ll just suckle from their mother for the first month or more before they can start eating normal food.”
That drew an expression of ‘eugh’ from Billy.
“Billy, I reckon you suckled from your mum when you were born. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I knows that, but… ’ow do they know where to go to find a tit?”
“I think they just do. Look lads, we should try and leave her and the kittens alone as much as possible, especially as I reckon this is her first litter. Don’t touch them for a day or so as if they don’t smell of her she might reject them and then they’d have no chance. But in a couple of days I’m sure she’ll let you touch them.”
“Can we keep them, George? She did only have the two like I told her!”
George had already decided when he saw the kittens earlier that they were going to stay. Christmas presents like this didn’t come often and he knew as Billy had gone to join Chris on the floor by Lucky’s box, that both boys had grown very attached to the cat and would surely grow even more attached to the two kittens as they grew and developed. But, he didn’t want to appear to give in too easily.
“We’ll have to see about that,” was his response, on hearing which Chris got up from where he was squatting and came to stand behind George before wrapping his arms round his neck and shoulders.
“Please, George. I’ll pay for their food. It’ll be the greatest Christmas present ever! I wonder what sex they are? Hope they’re female.”
“I’ll have to get Mrs Brown to come and have a look in a few days. These leaflets do say how you can tell, but I wouldn’t want to decide on my own. Why do you hope they’re female?”
“Cos I know just the right names for them!”
Billy groaned. “Oh, Gawd. Not Comet and Cupid or Donner and Blitzen—pleeease.”
“No, don’t be silly Billy. Holly and Ivy would be right, don’t you think?”
“Sounds good,” George said, “but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You two should go and get washed and dressed while I get breakfast. I intend to have dinner about one, so will poached eggs on toast keep you going until then?”
“When do we open our presents?” Billy asked.
“How about after breakfast? After that, and when I’ve got the dinner started, I’m going to go to the cemetery.”
“Can we come with you, George?” Chris asked.
George was both surprised and touched by the request. Annie meant nothing to the boys, other than a photograph or two. Yes, he thought it would be nice to have them with him today.
“Of course you can. I’ll be very pleased to have your company. Now go and get washed and dressed!”
The pair disappeared upstairs and George could hear them chattering away as they did so before a few minutes later they came scampering back down the stairs. To him it was rather a reminder of how his own son had approached Christmas Day—but when he was some years younger than these two. They seemed to have a zest for life that deserted Philip about the time he had become a teenager. Maybe it was because there were two of them and they seemed to get on so well together; thinking back he couldn’t recall them having an argument since they’d been living with him.
----------
Poached eggs and toast eaten and the washing up done the trio adjourned to the living room. During the last few days various packages had mysteriously appeared under and around the Christmas tree, the lights of which George had switched on earlier.
To start things off George handed Billy and Chris identical small parcels which when unwrapped proved to contain identical wrist watches. Neither of them had a watch of their own although George had lent Chris an old one of his while he had given Billy one of Annie’s that Billy kept in his blazer pocket for school. He then gave them a bigger parcel which he said was between them and which proved to contain a transistor radio. Needless to say the boys were both thrilled with their presents and two wristwatches were promptly wound, set and worn.
The boys then gave George his bottle of whisky and cardigan—they had decided to keep back the slippers until later. George was delighted, but told them they shouldn’t have spent their money on him.
Chris had bought Billy a pair of Wrangler jeans and also some coloured long t-shirts while Billy had got for Chris a warm, check work shirt, plus a pack of two coloured briefs.
Once all those had been unwrapped and admired they adjourned to the kitchen where the boys helped George by preparing the vegetables—potatoes, parsnips, carrots and sprouts—while he stuffed the turkey and got it ready for going in the oven. When that was done he went up to change into his suit and the boys put on shoes and anoraks. On coming back downstairs George picked up a bunch of dried flowers that had been lying on the sideboard saying to the boys that he saw no point in buying expensive real flowers at this time of year when the frost would kill them overnight. Billy though told him to wait a minute and grabbing a pair of scissors from a drawer went out into the back garden to return a few minutes later with various stems of greenery that he had cut from some shrubs out there. He handed them to George saying, “They ain’t much but it’s summat. One of these days I’m gonna go an’ find where me parents are buried an’ put some flowers on their grave.”
Having said which he started to gently sob until George stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
“Next summer we’ll go and do that Billy. I wish I’d met them.”
“You’d ’ave liked ’em George an’ they’d ’ave liked you.”
Billy disengaged himself from George’s hug and wiped his eyes. He looked at Chris who was standing rather awkwardly not quite knowing what to make of the situation and he realised that to all intents Chris also had no parents. He didn’t know who his father was and had run away from a mother who didn’t care for him; at least he had known loving parents. He walked over to Chris and said, “I’d like you to come too when we go, cos you’re like a bruvver to me an’ they’d ’ave loved you same as me.”
Now it was Chris’s turn to tear up as he gave Billy a hug.
George was now worried that going to the cemetery today was going to be a bad idea. He had wanted Christmas to be a happy occasion for them but right now it didn’t feel that way.
“Come on lads, let’s go. Sooner we go, sooner we get back and I’ve got some mince pies for elevenses I got from Bailey’s the other day so they should be good.”
----------
The cemetery was about a twenty minute walk away. Fortunately the early morning rain had stopped and it wasn’t too windy, but quite chilly—although the brisk walk kept them warm. There were few other people out and about, except for those walking dogs, and they exchanged Christmas greetings with anyone they saw. As they walked George told the pair more about his earlier life with Annie. The cemetery was also deserted and George led the way to Annie’s grave. The two stood to each side of him as he put the flowers and greenery in a pot on the grave and then they stood back to leave George on his own.
Often when he came to the grave George would talk out loud to Annie telling her of things that had happened since his last visit, but today he decided to commune with her in silence. He thought back to the first Christmas after she had died when Bill Rogers had invited him to join his family for Christmas dinner. George had accepted, appreciating the offer and knowing he would have done the same had their situations been reversed, but he hadn’t really enjoyed it and when the invitation was issued last year he had politely declined. He’d spent Christmas Day on his own with a frozen ready meal, too much beer and too much TV. This year was going to be very different; his life had changed in the last few months and had become worth living once again.
He did suspect that had Annie been alive when Chris and Billy first appeared he wouldn’t have offered to take them home. Had it been Chris on his own, then he might have done although he wasn’t sure if Annie could have accepted a younger version of Philip. For sure though Billy as he had looked and acted at first would not have been welcomed; indeed he’d almost turned him away himself. But that was before he had known the boy’s history and from which he seemed to have emerged almost unscathed. He had a cheekiness about him that George admired while Chris seemed to be the rock on which Billy relied. They made a good pair and evidently thought a lot about each other. He was quite sure given Billy’s history that the two of them ‘did things’ together, although how far that went he didn’t know or really care as long as they kept such activities within the house. And that was when a thought suddenly occurred to him. What would happen if…. Today wasn’t the day for pursuing that, but once Christmas was over there was something he needed to do.
Once they had left the cemetery gates the boys again took up position on each side of George. Now though he joined hands with each of them and they walked back to the house as a trio with him breaking into a chorus of ‘Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer’ in which they joined, after which Chris treated them to ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ and Billy was then persuaded to sing something which turned out to be, rather inappropriately, ‘How Much is that Doggy in the Window’ which he claimed to be the only thing he knew apart from a version of ‘While Shepherd’s Watched’ which he resolutely refused to sing. It was all very childish, but by the time they’d finished and were all laughing and happy, George had succeeded in what had been his aim when he started the singing—that of changing the mood completely.
When they got back to the house George put the turkey in the oven and they sat in the lounge for a while to eat their mince pies with a cup of tea. After that the pair offered George intermittent assistance with things in the kitchen while listening to the radio or watching TV.
Christmas dinner was served about 1:30 and George had done them proud with the turkey and vegetables, plus stuffing, chipolata sausages and cranberry sauce. After that the boys still managed to eat some Christmas pudding with a rum custard that George had made and which definitely contained a lot more rum than the one they’d had at the hotel the other night. George had drunk a bottle of beer with his dinner and the boys had cider. George had also bought a box of crackers so when the meal was finished they pulled those, donning the paper hats and telling each other the jokes that were contained in them.
There was then just enough time to do the washing up before settling down to watch the Queen’s Christmas Message at 3pm. George was sat in the middle pf the settee with Billy on one side of him and Chris on the other. By sheer fluke the subject of the Queen’s message that year turned out to be ‘The Family’ and one sentence early on in it resonated with each of them in slightly different ways:
“There is overwhelming evidence that those who cannot experience a full and happy family life for some reason or another are deprived of a great stabilising influence in their lives.”
George suddenly found each of his hands being grasped as the sentence ended and they sat like that until the message ended.
Once the Christmas message was over there followed on the TV Billy Smart’s Circus and then the pantomime ‘Mother Goose’ which they sat and watched. When that finished they decided it was time for the so called ‘tree presents’ to be distributed. These were all minor items, such as razor blades for George, various sweets and chocolates and some indigestion tablets for Billy that Chris had got in fear that he might eat some of the Brussels sprouts. One fair sized parcel remained which Chris indicated to Billy he should give to George. On unwrapping and opening the box he found that it contained a pair of red leather slippers. George laughed out loud as he saw them before asking the boys if they had got the right size as he took one from the box and held it by the upper heel. Naturally it was Billy who asked him if he wanted to make sure before proceeding to stand up, undo his jeans, push those and his briefs down towards his ankles and then bend forward to present his bare arse to George. Both George and Chris were trying hard not to laugh as Billy partly stripped, but Billy had decided he wanted to play the game to the full.
“Go on then, you might never get another chance!”
So George obliged, and it had to be said that the slipper made a fair ‘crack’ as it landed on its target, taking Billy a little by surprise and causing him to let out an “Ow!” Of course Chris knew he had no option but to follow Billy’s lead so he stood up, took the other slipper from the box and handed it to George saying, “Better find out if this one works too.”
He lowered his own jeans and briefs before giving George a view of his backside which was still startlingly white against the remains of the summer tan on his legs. George delivered a similar whack to Chris which produced a similar reaction, before the pair of them pulled their clothing back into place and sat down.
“I knew that was a flipping silly idea of yours to buy those for George,” Chris said as he sat back down.
“Only cos you’re a wimp,” Billy retorted.
“Yeah, well I don’t get slippered every week at school, do I?”
Billy laughed. “S’pose that do ’elp even if it’s a plimsoll not a slipper.”
George had watched the friendly exchange between the pair and chuckled to himself.
“Come on you two. It’s about time to try some of the Christmas cake Chris bought and I’ve also made a trifle.”
“’Ope you put lotsa sherry in it,” Billy said as he stood up.
George had indeed put a fair amount of sherry in it as a result of which both the trifle and the cake were thoroughly enjoyed. After eating they decided to leave Lucky in peace and adjourned to the lounge once more. As there was only a film on TV that didn’t much appeal to the boys George suggested a game of Monopoly instead. Chris had never played before but Billy had so that gave him a bit of an advantage and he duly won. Because Chris had gone broke quite early in the game it hadn’t been a great success, so George then suggested they could either play crib or dominoes. Neither of the boys knew how to play while George, in large part because of the time he’d spent in the army, was quite an expert. The rues of both were pretty easy to grasp and while admittedly only two could play either they were quite quick games so sitting out wasn’t too bad. Later in the evening the TV came back on for the Ken Dodd Show and that was followed by Top of the Pops which George agreed to suffer. That took the time to almost midnight but neither Billy nor Chris wanted the day to end as for both it had been the most memorable Christmas they had known. However, George was quite tired by then, so it was agreed they’d call it a day. Both of the boys gave George a hug and a kiss as well as thanking him for everything—presents and cooking. Finally though the day was over and having made sure the beds had been warmed with hot water bottles, Chris and Billy settled down, spooned and naked as usual.
Billy dropped off to sleep quickly, but Chris’s mind was still a jumble of thoughts. It had been the best Christmas he’d ever known and he’d been given some great presents—far, far better than any he’d ever received before. Indeed he’d been thinking about buying himself a watch just before Christmas and had looked at some in the window of a jeweller in town. He’d even seen the very model that George had given him and knew that it wasn’t cheap. He was pretty sure that George’s job wasn’t that well paid and yet George had bought one of those watches each for him and Billy. There had been a Beatles song last year in which part of the lyrics had been ‘money can’t buy me love’, but he knew George hadn’t been trying to buy their love. And when that thought occurred to him he smiled in the darkness as everything fell into place.
What he had needed for so long, what had been missing in his life was in fact a four letter word—love! Now he was living in a house where love existed, he was surrounded by it from both George and Billy—and indeed Lucky. And in turn he loved them so that now the emptiness that had been inside him for so many years had gone and had been replaced by an emotion he had struggled to recognise because it was so new and had come so late into his life. Now he had two people who he knew would look out for him and help him when necessary, and he would happily do the same for them.
----------
When he woke the next morning it was still dark, but it was normal to wake in the dark at this time of year when the alarm clock went off so Billy could go and do his paper round while he got ready to go to work. Today though Billy’s newsagent was having the day off so there were no papers to deliver and Billy had made certain before getting into bed the previous evening that the alarm wasn’t set.
Unusually they had moved apart during the night and both were on their backs. Chris rolled away from Billy so he could switch on the lamp that stood on his bedside table. Having done so he picked up his watch and saw the time was 7:45. He hadn’t wanted to take the watch off when he’d got into bed last night, but in the end had decided that it might somehow get damaged while he was sleeping so it might be safer left on the table.
He rolled back the other way and raised himself on an elbow so he could look at Billy. He was still in the land of nod, but there seemed to be a trace of a smile on his lips—perhaps he was having a good dream. Chris stroked a finger down Billy’s cheek and under his chin; he wasn’t ticklish Chris knew so he continued to stroke his fingers over Billy’s chest and down his side. As always the room was pretty cold, but Chris decided to risk it and pushed aside the eiderdown, blanket and sheet to expose Billy’s body. His fingers moved further down and finally found their target. Chris very gently squeezed Billy’s balls—they felt hard which brought a smile to his face. It had been some days since they’d last done anything together and it felt that, like him, Billy hadn’t wanked himself between then and now. He moved his fingers a little and found Billy’s prick was slightly hard, but it was oh so soft to the touch. Chris knew his felt the same and also why that was.
Their sessions with the baby oil at the weekend had halted when the warm weather ended as their bedroom was simply too cold. One Sunday afternoon though when George had left to go to the cemetery, the pair was sat in the lounge watching TV when Billy told Chris he was going to have a bath. Chris had already had a shower that morning after playing football so told Billy he didn’t want one and would rather watch the film that was on. The bathroom could be made reasonably warm by lighting the paraffin heater there, so having a bath wasn’t an ordeal. Chris had heard the water running and assumed Billy had got into the bath. He was thus surprised about ten minutes later to hear the door of the lounge open and Billy cough. He was even more surprised when he turned to look and saw Billy standing in the doorway naked and holding the bottle of baby oil.
“Wanna change yer mind?” he asked with a laugh.
The immediate reaction of Chris’s penis provided an answer that Billy couldn’t see, but the smile that lit up his face provided one he could. Chris stood up, adjusted the position of his prick within his jeans and then followed Billy up to the bathroom. Once there he quickly stripped and sat down on the bathroom ‘stool’ that was actually a whitewood box with a cork top, inside which various odds and ends were kept. It did though provide a more than adequate seat at the right height.
As it had been some weeks since their last session Chris was eager, really too eager and after he had sat on the seat and Billy poured some of the oil onto his prick, within a couple of minutes he had shot his load into Billy’s hand. They changed positions and Chris attended to Billy who managed to last considerably longer before ejaculating. Chris was surprised when following that Billy told him to sit down again and once more poured some of the oil onto his prick. This time though partly because he had shot so recently and partly because Billy concentrated on stroking downwards rather than upwards and also took pauses, it was a long time before Chris was ready to come. Even then Billy continued to tease him and in the end Chris was almost at the stage of begging for release. It had been the most intense experience he had ever known. The Sunday bath had since then become part of their life together, whether George was in or out.
Now this morning as Chris gently stroked Billy’s prick, he sensed a slight movement and heard a small noise, but Billy still appeared to be asleep. Chris kissed the tip and then extended his tongue to lick the head, with the result that Billy’s prick grew. Chris raised his head as he felt Billy move and on looking at his face could see that his eyes were now open and there was a smile on his lips.
“Beats a friggin’ alarm clock. You ain’t gonna stop now, are you?” Billy asked, chuckling as he did so.
Indeed Chris wasn’t going to stop and a few minutes later Billy came.
Chris shuffled back up the bed to lie alongside Billy. They kissed, deeply and intensely.
“What did I do to deserve that this morning? I ain’t complaining though!”
“I love you, Billy Lee—and I just had to show you I do.”
Chris had tears in his eyes as he spoke those words and Billy looked at him in wonder. He hadn’t really thought of their relationship in terms of love, although he had decided a while back that Chris was special to him and although he might do things with Chris that he had done with other people, the reasons for doing so were totally different. That was why he had stopped his other activities; they were part of a life he wished he’d never experienced, but which he’d survived. In some ways it had made him what he was now.
He pulled Chris to him and they kissed again. Billy ran his hands down Chris’s back until they were on each of his buttocks. Billy loved the sight and feel of Chris’s arse—it was round and soft to the touch, yet firm from the physical work he had done in the summer months.
“Do we ’ave to get up this morning?” he asked.
“I’m not playing footie until this afternoon and I suppose George won’t mind if we stay here for once. Any particular reason?” Chris asked with a smile.
Billy smiled in response.
“I can think of a couple—three mebbe.”
“Apart from the fact that it’s nice and warm in here?”
“Yeah, that’s anuvver one. Let’s see.”
Billy held up a hand and started to fold down fingers as he spoke.
“One, we don’t normally get the chance to do this. Two, I love you too Chris Atkins and I love being with you. Three, I owe you one. Four, I wanna ask you somethin’.”
“Does three come before four or after?”
Billy chuckled. “It oughta come before, but me mum told me it’s rude to talk wiv me mouth full!”
Chris laughed in response. “So what do you want to ask?”
Billy shuffled around in the bed to get more comfortable and so he could look directly at Chris.
“Did you read that book?”
“Yeah! That was…phew…something else. Never read anything like that.”
“But what did you fink of it—what they did?”
There was a long pause before Chris answered during which Billy started to get rather worried that maybe he had done the wrong thing in leaving the book for Chris to read—and yet he had seemed to be enjoying it that night he’d gone to bed early.
“I’m not sure how to answer, Billy. Some of the things they did were like we do but some were things I’d not thought about before. But I suppose that was why you gave me the book. I know the book said they loved each other, but I guess I’d never reckoned on boys doing that with each other. I know how men and women make love as we did that at school, and I suppose this is sort of the same when it’s two men who love each other.”
Billy decided to take the plunge.
“So whatcha fink about you an’ me doing that sorta thing? Not that we ’ave to, but I were just wondering.”
There was another pause of a similar length before Chris responded.
“Perhaps we could, but I’m not sure I’m ready to have your prick inside me in that way. Saying that seems daft when not five minutes ago I had it inside me another way, but….”
Billy hadn’t considered Chris would look at things that way.
“I didn’t mean like that Chris. I meant for you to come inside me!”
Now it was Chris’s turn to be surprised.
“But…with what happened to you at the home I thought you’d never want to have anything like that happen again.”
“I thought that at the time—an’ for a while after. But I were raped by that bloke. ’E didn’t care about me, ’e just used me—same as ’e used lots of other kids. Bastard were using ’is power. But I got to fink it’d be different if I asked someone I loved to come inside me. Mind you, I ain’t sure ’ow I’d be when it came to it. I might not be able to let someone else in—’e could’ve made it so I’d feel anyone else was ’im doing it again. I’ve thought about it a lot though an’ I reckon if it were you an’ we did it slow and gentle like, it’d be alright.”
When Billy finished his little speech Chris hugged him tight and they exchanged kisses and strokes for several minutes with both of them shedding a few tears along the way. Finally, Chris broke the embrace.
“Billy, I need to think. You don’t want me to answer now do you?”
“Nah. Anytime you want—an’ we don’t ever ’ave to even try an’ do it. I’ll still love you Chris.”
----------
They lay in bed cuddled together for another hour or so, stroking, touching and kissing; simply enjoying the unusual luxury of being in contact with each other’s bodies and the pleasure that gave them. Finally though the call of nature could be resisted no longer and first Chris got up and went to the bathroom followed by Billy when he returned. When they came downstairs George made a big point of asking what time they thought it was, as it was just after 9—unusually late for them who were both early risers. Chris made a point of getting down on his knees to talk to Lucky who was very pleased to receive his attention and even rolled over to allow him to properly see her kittens, which still looked very much like mice.
After breakfast the two boys went for a walk along the cliff tops with Chris taking a football that they kicked around for a while. There were more people about today with several parents and younger children showing off their presents from yesterday in the form of bikes and scooters and even a couple of kites. Then they came back for lunch which was a bowl of soup and a sandwich before they all went off to watch while Chris played football. It wasn’t one of his best games as his mind didn’t always seem on the play, but at least his team won. Following that they went back home and later had dinner which was cold turkey with jacket potatoes and vegetables after which they sat together in the lounge watching TV or when there was nothing worth viewing, playing crib.
The Monday was also a bank holiday, but Billy had to be up bright and early for his newspaper round. Normally, except at weekends, Chris would get up at about the same time but today was a Monday and for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom Chris felt quite lonely in bed on his own, so although he didn’t need to it wasn’t long after Billy departed that he got up himself and came down to join George in the kitchen. They chatted about various things with Chris trying to pluck up his nerve to somehow ask George about what he and Billy had talked about the previous day, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.
However, in the afternoon he and Billy did go upstairs for a bath!
On Tuesday things were back to normal as both Chris and George went back to work. Billy had some schoolwork to do during the holiday which he got on with, but by the end of the day he had almost completed it and was wondering what to do with the rest of the holiday. Although he had settled in well at school he hadn’t made any particular friends—apart from one boy, Andrew, who was the fly half to his scrum half in the rugby team. On the last day of term he had suggested to Billy that if he was at a loose end over the holiday he could call round. Andrew lived fairly near and Billy decided that on the Wednesday he’d have an early lunch and then call round to see if he was interested in going to the pictures. Although most of the cinemas were showing kids’ films there was one that had a film he thought might be good and they ought to be able to get in to see.
Billy knew the road where Andrew lived as it was on his paper round, although he didn’t deliver to Andrew’s house. The houses in that road were all quite modern postwar built detached properties and thus much nicer than the old Victorian house where Billy now lived. When he rang the doorbell Billy was slightly surprised to find Andrew opening the door, but he seemed pleased to see Billy and invited him in, explaining that his parents had gone off for the day to visit some friends. However, when Billy suggested going to the pictures Andrew told him he had been given firm orders that he wasn’t to leave the house. So they went into the kitchen where Andrew gave Billy a glass of lemonade and some crisps while they sat and talked about their respective Christmases. It was obvious to Billy from looking round the house and the clothes Andrew was wearing—new jeans, new jumper, and new shirt—that his parents had a lot more money than George. He was at least glad that he was wearing the new pair of Wrangler jeans Chris had given him, although they were rather in contrast to the well-worn anorak, jumper and plimsolls he had on.
When he had been at the orphanage hardly any of the boys had new clothes—most were handed down and because his school here had a uniform policy for the boys, they virtually all looked the same although some might have trousers that ended above their ankles or scruffier shoes or blazers. Thus Billy felt a little uncomfortable sitting with Andrew and was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake in coming when Andrew asked him if he’d like to come upstairs and see his model railway. Billy could recall in earlier years wishing he had such a thing so readily followed Andrew upstairs. He was taken into a room that rather took his breath away because it was given over to an OO gauge railway setup that stood at waist height. Just at a quick glance Billy counted at least half a dozen tracks while the number of engines, carriages and wagons was impossible to count.
“Wow!!” was about all Billy could manage to say, before adding, “Gee you’re lucky to ’ave all this.”
“Well, my dad started it for my brother who is six years older than me and is at uni now, but then it just got added to when I came along. Do you want to see it working?”
“Please—that’d be great.”
Andrew set the system in motion and Billy’s eyes lit up as from initially just one train running he could eventually see three running round. He had noticed that there were two sets of controls and that Andrew was only using one. Even so he was surprised when after about ten minutes Andrew asked him if he wanted to try using the other one and thus bring more trains into operation. Billy of course agreed and moved round the table to where the controls were. He was slightly surprised though when Andrew came and stood right behind him and then leant over and round him to show him how to use them. As Andrew pressed up against him Billy became aware that he had an erection as he could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing into the top of his bottom—Andrew being a good few inches the taller of the two. Next thing he knew Andrew’s right hand was on the front of his jeans and his fingers seemed to be trying to find the zip. Billy felt himself start to harden.
“Fancy a wank, Billy?”
Billy spun round and looked at Andrew—various thoughts racing through his mind as he did so. He had no idea why Andrew had asked that question, but it was obvious that he wanted Billy to agree—and by the smile now on his face it looked as if he expected Billy would. Had he still been at the orphanage Billy would definitely have agreed, but now some inner voice was saying ‘caution.’
“Why’d yer fink I would?” he asked.
“Oh, let’s think,” responded Andrew, with what was almost a leer on his face. “There’s the rumours about you going round at school and then there’s the way you just stand there undressed in the changing rooms with everything on display. Everyone else is usually trying to hide their bits, but there’s Billy with his cock and balls on show for everyone to admire. It’s as if you’re looking for someone to give you a hand.”
Billy hadn’t thought about how he might look in the changing rooms. Before, he’d been used to taking a shower with other boys and to running around in the dormitory naked. He thus had no modesty about his body. He realised now how his so called display would look to boys such as Andrew.
“I dunno what you’ve ’eard, but I ain’t no poof.”
A sudden thought entered his head, and he continued, “It’s just where I come from up north kids ain’t so soft an’ shy as you lot are down ’ere. We don’t worry about fings like that.”
“And where exactly do you come from, Billy? Suddenly appearing at the beginning of term and living with that old geezer who runs the putting greens. Are you and him….”
Andrew got no further because Billy pulled back his right arm, made his hand into a fist and drove it into the other boy’s nose and mouth. There was a noise as the blow landed and then blood started to trickle from Andrew’s nose.
“Don’t ya ever say anyfink about George. He’s a fuckin’ war hero an’ a great dad!”
Having delivered that line, Billy shoved Andrew aside, ran back downstairs and out of the house. Once outside he stopped to draw breath and think. It dawned on him that things could get difficult if Andrew said anything to his parents. He hoped he wouldn’t but couldn’t be sure and if he did that might lead to perhaps the police coming knocking on the door. He almost started to cry at the thought because if that happened he’d have to run away again—and he really, really, didn’t want to do that but there was no way he was ever going back to the orphanage. He’d kill himself rather than go back there.
He wondered about ringing the bell again and apologising to Andrew; he even thought about doing that and giving him the wank he’d wanted. But he’d made his mind up a while back that the days of him giving wanks and blowjobs had gone. Now he only wanted to do that with Chris and when they did them it was totally different to what he’d done in the past; they did it because they loved each other and it was a way of showing that love.
Yet if he ran away that would also be gone. Perhaps at some point he could come back, but up to what age could he still be returned to the orphanage—fifteen, sixteen, eighteen? He didn’t know but it could be years before he’d see Chris again if that happened and by then he might have tired of waiting for him and found someone else and he absolutely certainly didn’t want that to happen.
Now Billy did start to shed a few tears. Only the other day life had seemed wonderful, now today it might all come tumbling down because of how he’d reacted to someone asking him for a wank. He decided to head home and hope George came back from work before Chris so he could talk to him.
----------
It so happened that Chris was working late to finish a job so George did get home first. When he came in it was to find Billy sat on the kitchen floor talking to and making a fuss of Lucky. Billy immediately stood up and told George that he needed to talk to him; George asked for a couple of minutes to take his coat off, wash his hands and make a pot of tea. Billy pointed out that the tea was already made so it was indeed just a couple of minutes before they were sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table.
Billy proceeded to recount to George every details of what had happened with Andrew that afternoon, ending by asking what he should do. George had listened attentively without once interrupting and when Billy had finished he sat back in his chair with his mug of tea in his hands. Billy sat waiting expectantly, his head lowered but with a downcast look on his face—which was so unusual compared to the cheerful attitude he normally showed. He was deeply worried that the way of life he had come to love over the last few months was about to be taken from him—and all because he hadn’t agreed to wank someone off! Considering how he’d lived for the previous few years that was very ironic, but as that thought entered his mind it caused a little smile to cross Billy’s face as he raised his head to look at George.