28 August 2009

It's still dark and Jake is sleeping like the dead but Sam can't, this cramped little room some local was kind enough to offer them shelter and food in, some sort of resistance person or something he guesses, cautions about never venturing out in the daylight being about the only language barrier that got across. They're in some sort of border land here, exactly which border he isn't sure, just knows the curse of him and Jake is the only one strong enough to land two gay brothers in love with each other in the worst possible situation without fail.
He had seemed like a kind man, he looked to be in his sixties but with the weariness of a person who has been at war and in wars too long, something both brothers were now beginning to understand. The man had shown them to this underground cave of a room. What his intentions were beyond that was unclear, though Sam didn't feel threatened by him at all, the man looked to be about the least likely to want a fight from anyone at this point, the sort of man who jumps at a knock on a door and keeps his life and what little is left of his dreams buried in a cloth in a hole and maybe looks at them when it's dark and not a soul is left to see him with that last spark in his hands.
He flips on the telly, quick to turn it down before it wakes Jake. Though at this point he doubts a mortar shell on top of them would wake the boy up. Jake looks like he's aged five years in the past few weeks and this just makes Sam feel so sad. He brushes his hair which gets a grunt in the boys sleep and a passing smile from a familiar touch.
Only three channels and BBC World is fading in and out, the only one he can understand. Sam lights a cigarette, coughing, fuck these cigarettes are strong, and promptly drops it in his lap because he's looking at a photograph of himself on television.
'What the-' he hisses, and this wakes Jake up, rubbing the sleep out his eyes. Yes, there they are, both their photos, then Jeremi, and then there's the anchor.
'This afternoon, Royal Navy vessels operating in the Mediterranean were fired upon by Libyan gunboats. They returned fire, sinking the Libyan vessels, which has caused an international row. Yet more disturbing is the recovery of wreckage belonging to three boys, two of the British nationals on your screen, believed abducted in France. With the military engagement and now the discovery of this wreckage just off the coast of Libya, both the Royal Navy and French National Navy have begun moving additional resources into the Mediterranean. Already BBC has learned that UK authorities are now investigating a number of unsolved abductions of British nationals aged 15-20 in France, previously believed to be unrelated to one another. The Prime Minister has also taken the extraordinary step of issuing a strong warning to the Libyan government.'
'What the-' says Jake, sitting up now, grabbing his own cigarette.
And then there's something Sam never thought in a million years he'd hear, but just did, there's the Prime Minister saying his name, Jake's name, and he never particularly cared for the man but there's something very comforting about hearing a man with a Navy threatening anyone who tries to hurt you with the full power of that Navy and whatever else it takes.
The story rambles on to mention both Italian and Spanish military forces are joining in the cooperation.
'Oh, god,' mumbles Jake. 'Did we just start world war three?'
But now this could go any number of ways, he knows, cos if it's Libyan cops that find them the last thing they're going to want is for anyone to see them on Libyan soil. Of course there are other sorts operating round here that will simply see them as a fat paycheck. And as for their host...who knew. He didn't seem the type to consort with either of those two and definitely not the sort who wanted any attention. They were just a couple of kilometers from the coast but those had already proven to the longest two kilometers in existence.
'What are we going to do?' asks Sam, cos Jake will know, Jake always knows, right?
And Jake just looks at Sam with a look that says everything, he's worn out from figuring out 'what to do' and probably thinking every time he does figure it out things always go from bad to worse. The boy just lays back and takes a drag of his cigarette, and now Sam hears it, Jake's crying quietly, scared, but at least not alone he needs to let him know. So he just holds him and now he's really crying , curls up into a ball like he just wants to disappear into Sam, and Sam can't tell him it'll be okay cos he's not gonna lie to him, he honestly doesn't know anymore, just hopes that this all comes to an end that means they can stop running forever, yes, that'd be nice, the cottage, just them, Jake smiling at Sam over a bowl of hot oatmeal with extra raisins and sugar on top just like likes...

Now What

Both boys are laying on the bed, covers unruffled, no energy for sex, no energy for discussion even, having seen their boat go under the wake of the navel boat pretty much at the same time they had jumped off it, both are too adrenaline low to speak, swimming ashore and getting through the locals who had gathered on the quayside to see the event had been difficult enough and then running through the narrow streets where traders and tourists stared, no doubt remembering every detail should they be asked by anyone latter, the traders hoping that maybe the information might be worth some money to someone, everyone runs for a reason and sometimes that reasons worth money, the tourists, well it will be something to tell friends back home but for both boys, the swim the run had been adrenaline fuelled and now they lay just numb. Jake just glad that they had got out of that one intact, he can feel his heart smiling on the inside, emanating out, just glad he and his brother are safe, safe to live and love again, for another day at lease. Sam is all dark, thinking, why wasn’t that it, the end, the end of both of them, would it, could it, improve from the high of the last few days when he and Jake had discovered a deep physical love for each other, a love that had been tough, tender, raw and beautiful, Sam just thinks now what is there, why wasn’t that the end of both of them, he would at least have died happy but he hadn’t died and what now, he didn’t have a clue.
Fed up thinking Sam turns on the TV and the newscasters carrying the story of Madonna being battered to death by some kid she adopted ’;stupid fucking cow’ he thinks and kills the TV, now what.

26 August 2009

dreams, that's all it is just dreams, and now sam is wondering what if, what if he reached into his jeans or ducked under the gunwales and wonders what if, they thought they were going to attack the gunboat and just maybe that's best cos...and he imagines it like it almost makes him cum the thought of the 50mm gun shredding their tiny universe to pieces and jake getting hit first cos sam is ducking and he almost disintegrates only the important bits are left to love but they're dying and now the bullets are shredding into him too and like in life they become one just a shredded pile of pulp and bone mixed in with the sawdust on the deck as their boat capsizes and there's nothing left to save except the last long look between them in this world just his blue eyes and the fear that maybe there is no next one just its all gone and maybe this is how it always was going to be and maybe they get one last kiss before it all expires and maybe they cum so the blood and shredded bone gets mixed up with it a bit just its them...together forever.

But Jake got fucked up on his directions cos now they see the flag on the gunboat isn't Spain or Britain its just straight green.
'What the fuck is that??' asks Sam cos now he's getting really freaked.
And Jake's just well shaking here cos this wasn't supposed to go so bad but then when has it ever not gone bad and he double checks his co-ords and then realizes they yanked the GPS and now he's got a book open with all kinds of flags and he just says 'fuck.'
'Fuck? What the fuck does that mean?'
'It means fuck. Like really, fuck.'
'What flag is that? Where the fuck are we?'
'It's Libya.'
And now the option of being gunned to pieces really sounds like the safest bet and they're getting closer and Sam's like 'What now?'
'What now?'
'Ya, what now?'
'We're absolutely fucked'
And Jake is spinning the sail to try and run but this won't get them far enough, there's not enough wind in the sails to outrun the gunboat, it would take a cyclone. And fuck Jake is swearing cos he coulda sworn they were heading northwest not southeast but people tend to go in circles when they're lost and especially if they're relying on an unplugged GPS.
And there's shouting over them in Arabic and now they have to hide what's between them forever and fuck.
'C'mon, fuck' yells Jake but then there's the proverbial shooting over the bow which cuts the sail in half and now they're just dead in the water. Like always things just went from bad to absolute worst.

Fucked Philipino's

as the boys stand, arms out wide, the sign of no problems man, across the ocean they were now being taken from by the British Navy, gay icon and thoroughly modern wonder Madonna was getting her head trashed from the kid she had so nicely, so kindly, so wonderfully, so caringly, bought for enough money to equip the kids country with good schools, meaning he and kids like him need ever be parted from their parents ever again, well at that very moment the kid was whacking her over the head with a designer, ten thousand dollar remote control car. Blood was starting to show through that oh so fucking nasty perm that for some weird reason she thought was cool, and as he hit her she called for help, but she still hadn't got out of the habit of affecting an English accent, a hangover from her marriage to that mockney wanker and failed film director, Guy Ritchie, you know the one, him who stumbled across a good first film, then, the second was all 'ohh Brad Pitt's accents so wonderful', no it fucking isn't twats, I live here and no one speaks like that stupid, he's just a stupid stupid American actor who thinks his shit don't stink. So anyway Madge is getting her head kicked bad and she's all 'Oh No Don't You Know You Must Not Treat Mummy This Way. You can't do that to Mummy and the kids like totally a flipped Philipino and is beating the shit outta her head bad and Madgee is all Oh don't do this to Mummy and he's now got the back of her head and is slamming it into the marble floor and her bloods spattering and dripping all over the Egyptian marble flooring and the flipped Philipino kid is screaming at the top of his voice, wheres my fucking dad bitch. and as dear gay icon and child buyer Madge is blacking out the British Navy board Sam and Jake's boat.

24 August 2009

The tall man doesn't really like being here. He's afraid he might get unwanted attention, especially because for some peculiar reason it seems like he's the tallest person in the room, and he scans around a bit but no police in sight.
Ilias, you're so foolish, he thought, very foolish to be in a bus station and armed even if it was just a knife, foolish to try and make a case to Hasan that there was money where there was not even a shred of proof. But he was going to be boss someday and the short fat fuck whom he was trying to impress carried a pistol, an antique prize from the North African front, a shiny Luger. It was time to be more brave if he ever planned to become anything.
Sam feels refreshed, though he's already seen one bus and it doesn't look very air conditioned so he's wondering just how long this ride is going to be. Jake will enjoy it, though, he was always a bit crazy about history.
Though he wonders why Jake, who seemed so enthusiastic about the trip, is now seeming really edgy, scanning the crowd. And then Jake smiles and says hello to of all things a man that looks like a policeman, and he's thinking, oh shit, I hope it's not a real cop.
The man looks more like a tour operator than a real cop at least, and unlike most cops he's dealt with, seems friendly, giving Jake a pat on the head and a smile. Jake whispers something to the man and he frowns at first, then looks concerned. And now they're both scanning the crowd and Sam sees something out of place, everyone else is going about their business with little concern or attention to those around them except this one man who is unusually tall who is staring right at him. So fixed is his attention on Sam that he's not even paying attention to Jake, nor the man he's talking to in the uniform that identifies him as Brigade Touristique, the man who is now looking very concerned and whispering into a radio and there's movement at the fringes of Sam's vision. The tall man looks over and seems concerned because a short fat man a dozen meters away is being accosted by the regular police, practically swallowing up his little presence in their blue uniforms. Tall man's got a worried look on his face and quickly averts his eyes from Sam, attempting to turn and walk away but he's got his own man in blue to deal with and Sam's like wtf is Jake doing and who are these men and why the fuck can't him and Jake just have a couple of normal days?
The tall man is trying to act nonchalant, gesturing a lot, and the officer with Jake whispers something, putting himself between Jake and the man, and fuck now there's starting to be police everywhere. Jake is backing away, slowly, though neither of the two strange men are paying any attention to them now.
'What the hell is going on?' asks Sam, sweating now out of fear cos they didn't exactly sign a guest register when they entered the country. And the little matter of dead bodies.
There's a pop like a firecracker and suddenly people are screaming and another and Jake grabs Sam's arm and hisses, 'Change of plans, go, go, go!'
Another pop and they just barely make it out of the station before a wall of blue closes in behind him and the last thing Sam glimpses is tall man whipping a big knife at the guy Jake was talking to, and there's blood in the air, everyone's running and screaming and fuck they keep getting people hurt or killed everywhere they go.
Jake pulls him into an alley and bends over, throwing up, and he's crying.
'What the fuck just happened?'
'You didn't see them? The two men staring at us and gesturing?'
And, no, Sam didn't, but he's not surprised after yesterday his guard was well down, Jake never fully lets his down.
'The cop said the tall one is a suspect in tourist abductions.'
And Sam feels like throwing up himself but Jake's pulling his arm along and he's getting this awful sense that someone is following them but he's scared to see who. He doesn't know where they're going at all just blindly running, back into the shitty areas where they started, and he wonders what next and they're in the really bad part where they concealed the boat, getting strange looks from people wondering what two tourists are thinking, being in this area. His heart's about to burst from his chest cos he's sure now he hears footsteps behind them. A man sitting at a cafe drinking mint tea looks up from his newspaper and there's a split second of recognition and fuck Sam knows this man and this is all about to get really bad, Jakes uncovering the boat so he jumps to help him when there's a voice right behind them.
'Going somewhere, boys?' says a thickly accented voice which sends chills down his spine. 'I believe you've caused some trouble for my...associates. It's a matter we must to discuss.'
And Jake turns slowly, Sam doesn't want to but does, there's a man who looks homeless and here he remembers the man also, remembers thinking it was strange that this man would be ignored outside the bus station when he needed help, even remembers dropping a few Euros into his cup.
Instinctively he puts himself between Jake and the man, who's reaching into his filthy shirt and the sun is catching something metallic and glinty and oh fuck this is about to get real bad cos the only weapon between Sam and Jake is the boat knife buried at the bottom of the backpack, he remembers the master stroke of hiding it under really smelly clothes in case they got searched.
The man takes a step forward.
'Thank you for the euros, son,' he says. 'But I am quite well off, so if you need them, well, let me know. I'm sure you have someone missing you back home, where might you be from, Gibraltar? No, the accents aren't quite right. You can't be all the way from Britain?'
And Sam flinches involuntarily and the man laughs.
'Now, that is a currency I love dealing with. So much better than Euros.'
He steps forward again and Sam steps back which sends Jake into the boat with a grunt.
'Lots of ropes to undo here before you can go for your afternoon sail, aren't there?'
He has a knife out now and it's a long blade.
'Do you need help with those?' asks the man. 'A boat like this, well, she's a beautiful boat. Probably fetch a handsome reward as well.'
The blade waves, catching the sun in a blinding flash. One more step forward towards them. Sam has nowhere to go.
Suddenly the man stops and it sounds like a burp and a giant glob of red pops out of his mouth with a strange gurgle. He drops his knife and sways a bit before a black hand grabs his shoulder and yanks him back. Another gurgle and now blood is pouring from his mouth. The hand pushes him aside, right into the water with a dead splash and now Sam is looking at the man from the cafe, the man from the alley that they 'helped' the other night, a blade in his hand covered in red.
The man wipes the blade off and puts it away and Sam's knees are about to give out. But the man bows.
'I owe you boys an apology, but now we are even, no debts between us?'
'Huh?' says Sam.
'You didn't count my payment. It was short by quite a bit. I suggest you leave Morocco, and quickly. This man will be missed by some people, people who like new business opportunities.'
He gives a slight nod to Sam and Sam does the same and now Jake is pulling him into the boat and undoing ropes and shoving off like a boy possessed. Sam plops onto the deck and finally it all comes up, he's puking over the side and can barely sit up right except to look behind them, watch the corpse disappear from view, the city, all of it, and now he's crying and Jake's fumbling around below deck, sounds like he's trying to burrow a hole into the boat and there's a whirring sound with a clank and a shadow casts over him.
He looks up and there's the Union Flag flapping over them and fuck he's never felt so relieved to see it, no more of this shit, these shit places where there's nothing but death hovering overhead.
'It's only a few kilometers, okay, we have to do this, okay,' pants Jake and Sam knows he means Gibraltar, maybe dangerous to them but just maybe they will live through that kind of danger.
'Here,' says Jake and he's stuffing Sam's UK passport into his hand. 'When the boats come, no sudden moves. We were abducted in France by Jeremi and another man, and we never saw Morocco, never, okay?'
'How do we explain this?' says Sam, 'How?'
'There dozens of deserted islands in the Mediterranean. They slept, we escaped, simple is good, right, keep it simple, okay?'
'If there's so many deserted islands...' starts Sam, but he knows the answer. Everywhere they land is trouble.
'If anyone can help us now, you know as well as I it's Sydney, you know this, right?'
And Sam just nods and sure enough here come the gunships, huge cannons pointed straight at them and Jake stands up, arms out, and he does the same and wonders wtf is going to happen next.
just to the right, here’ say’s Jake pointing.
‘yes, Sir, To the right, the tour bus should be there in five minutes for the Roman ruins’ and Jake turns, raises his eyebrows to Sam
‘K, five minutes, just outside’.
Sam rises from the over stuffed sofa in the lobby and looks at Jake smiling.
‘OK lets go er wait then’ he says and Jake pushes him in a playful way and both boys walk out of the revolving door and join a small queue to the right-hand side.
‘there, they have just left’ a dark tall, fit, muscular man points as the boys exit the doors and he rises with his friend, colleague, business associate, a smaller, older man with poke marks on his face. As they walk out of the lobby the smaller man says;
‘you are sure, they arrived with a French boy’
‘yes the same boy found in a trash bin’ says the taller man.
‘story’ the smaller man says.
‘I don’t know, that’s it, they arrive with a French boy, he’s found dead and these two don’t seem to unhappy about that, do they’.
‘and where is the body now’ asks the smaller man.
‘collected, gone, garbage’.
‘hmm, so blackmails difficult without a body to present to them’.
‘but there’s a story here boss, we just need to find it out’ the taller darker man is keen to hook his boss into this one, otherwise the boss gets pissed off paying wages for nothing.
‘OK, follow them, see what you can find out, they look like queer to me so be careful my friend’ and with that the smaller man laughs and walks away, mobile phone clamped to his ear.

23 August 2009

A day without death

Sam gets woken first by some yelling outside and car horns, then pushes his head under the pillow to make it go away, and it seems like ten seconds later Jake is shaking him awake.
'What the fuck time is it?' he wonders aloud and his hand is hurting something awful.
But Jake isn't paying attention, he's acting all excited and he's holding some guide or something and dragging Sam out of bed without at first realizing he's got the one they cut last night and Sam yelps.
Jake says sorry and he's going on and it's really starting to confuse Sam cos he's sounding...normal. Like a fucking tourist and a happy one at that and it makes him think back to the cottage cos he's got the book in Sam's face and showing him pictures of buildings that are, well, pink ironically, and then he's talking about taking a bus to see some Roman ruin or something.
'Who are you and what have you done with Jake?' he asks and laughs.
And Jake gets quiet and Sam looks at him and for a minute he looks down at his sneakers and damn he bought new sneakers, rip-offs of some American brand, and Sam's really starting to wonder what time it is and if he slept through a day or more somehow.
'I want us back, the way it was, even if it's only for a while,' says Jake. 'I don't want to think about death or any of that today. I want to have fun with you, fun, you remember what that was like?'
And Sam thinks Jake is about to cry or something so he says okay, okay, what do you want to do?
'Get dressed,' he says, and Sam complies, once again Jake's in charge but it does sound nice, what he's talking about.
The next thing he knows they're out in the street with all their stuff in backpacks, and he never really went out much here during the day before, it's jammed with people, strangely, he can't seem to pick a single woman out of the crowd.
And he notices at once Jake is not next to him and wonders where he went. Then he's getting dragged into some restaurant where they feed him some soup dish with meat he can't quite place and fruits and lots of other things, it's good, and they bring them tea which is a bit minty for Sam's tastes. It's the first real meal he's eaten in a long time, even though hot soup in this weather is just insanity.
And Jake drags him around it feels like the entire city, he's got a disposable camera and taking pictures of everything it seems, and the kid won't stop talking and smiling and everywhere they go people really are friendly to them, it's such an awesome change to be a tourist with his brother and not two outsiders against the world and it's actually making him feel good also. But the heat is starting to really get to him, and he complains a little and Jake looks a little disappointed cos he really wanted to make the bus trip to see the Roman ruins. Sam says he's really enjoyed himself, and he's not lying there, not even close, he feels calm and happy for the first time in it seems forever.
'Can we do it tomorrow and find a real hotel like one with a very large pool... and a very well-stocked bar?'
Jake nods then sees something behind Sam and he lights up a bit and says 'Wait here first.'
Jake's back in a few minutes with two necklaces made of dark wooden beads, they look a little cheap to be honest. But it's the thought that counts and they get a few strange looks from some men on the street when Jake insists on them putting them on one another, but fuck it's so much nicer of a way to do this, what's this world done to them that they thought of using the knife before this?
They find a nice looking place, which Sam learns is called a riad and the minute they enter it's like a whole different world, an oasis, there's a courtyard with the big pool he wanted and a bartender, it's surrounded by lemon trees. Jake has to argue to get them a room together and gets frowned at but Sam guesses he knows Jake well enough that the room price went up 200%, Jake always gets his way.
He doesn't even care about the money, he just wants to strip off his dirty clothes and take a real shower and jump into his shorts and enjoy the pool.
They're sitting there next to each other and got frowned at for sitting too close together, but it's close enough he guesses, they've been almost on top of each other everywhere they've slept for days or weeks, yet not since the cottage has he felt so close to Jake.
After the sun goes down it starts to get a little chilly so they eat something and go up to the room, two beds of course, but Jake just draws the shade, messes up his bed and then climbs in with Sam.
'Did you enjoy today,' he asks, and Sam loved it, he's going to actually sleep soundly tonight.
And it's different next cos it's not all about getting to the fuck or even close, Jake really just wants to kiss, quietly, for a long time, gently even, just tasting each other more than they probably ever have before. It's the nicest Sam's ever felt he can remember, he doesn't even realize they both came without even doing anything more than kiss each other for what must have been an hour or more. Jake won't let him stop, his tongue in his mouth, like fuck Sam is about to cum again cos this just feels so perfect, they lose track of time completely and he has no clue how many times he's cum but it's starting to hurt a bit and he's getting tired so he gently breaks it off and says he has to breathe and Jake's like 'one more time?' and before Sam can say anything he's down on him and it's like two seconds wait for so much pleasure he can't stop, filling his mouth with it, cumming like he never has before. He's almost afraid Jake will want to keep going cos he's well exhausted by now, feels like he's run across the country and back five times, but, no, he's satisfied, happy, and curling up and he just whispers that he loves Sam and Sam returns it, brushing his hair and drifting off to sleep, their breathing in sync.

Done Deal

‘look Jake, it’s fucked OK, we both know that, but if it’s fucked, it’s fucked, so we just need to do what we need to do, whatever the circumstances and one day, yeah the circumstances are gonna catch up with us and then that’s the end of it, but this is not the end, here, right now, it’s just not’ and he looks at his brother and Jake at last seems to be able to take in what he’s trying to tell him, been trying to tell him for the last hour.
‘so Jake, yeah’ questions Sam.
and flimsy as this sounds Jake realises there is nothing else he can do, he knows he needs to accept this because to fight it, resist it, is to deny what’s gone on and now their strength together lies in each others trust and love that and the knowledge that they can both kill if the circumstances require it, kill to save themselves and each other.
‘deal’ say’s Jake…’sorry man, it just took me a while to catch up with you’.
‘cool’ say’s Sam and he picks up a lock knife from the table and looks at his brother
‘wha’ Jake’s immediately nervous because this could mean anything with Sam and he’s relieved when Sam cuts a line across his hand and watches the blood flow
‘now you Jake’ and he hands the knife to Jake and Jake does the same and then as one both boys lift their hands and join them so the blood runs between them.
‘forever together’ says Sam
‘forever together Sam smiles Jake.
‘ the killings not over you know that don’t ya’ says Sam
‘yeah I know’ says Jake and then he adds ‘so’ and looks straight into Sam’s eyes and Sam can see the bond made, the deals done, there is no doubt between them now, just trust and love, murder and death.

22 August 2009

At the same time, tho, they both know that something has changed forever...and Sam can't get that sickening feeling that they were stupid to ever think that this would go any other way from the start, or maybe just desperately hoping against hope it didn't have to.
And maybe now it was too fucked up to ever totally fix, forever they would be walking around with angry ghosts chasing them, how many neither of them was sure, five, ten, maybe more?  Some like Sydney had asked for it, just maybe, but for some there was no denying that the only thing they ever did was cross paths with them at the wrong time, and maybe this was Sam's fault cos Jake was always a bit dangerous.  He'd made the boy desperate, how own brother, damaged him some way cos he trusted Sam like no one else, and where would this end, cos he remembers still giving him too many Xannys that one time and wonders if Jake's ever started down that road with him.
That trust didn't scare Sam so bad cos he felt like this would end badly, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but it probably would, and he hoped if he died it would be by Jake's hand and not some random stupid event.  Sometimes when he was off by himself he fantasized about that moment, fantasized cos it seemed like only way the two of them could be together in peace forever.

21 August 2009


Ten hours of sitting in almost total silence, disbelieving, the two boys understand that they must re-emerge into the world, leave this behind them, but is it so easy?
Sam stands and walks over to his brother who is sitting on the coach, Sam sits beside him and lays his head on the younger brothers shoulder.
‘hey’ says Sam
‘hey back’ says Jake
‘Hey, hey’
‘hey’ says Jake with almost a laugh
‘hey, hey, hey, hey ,hey’ say’s Sam laughing now,……..’come on Jake, it’s over’
‘yeah, I know’
‘let’s just leave it behind now yeah’
and Jake strokes Sam’s hair, gently
‘yeah let’s leave it now’.
and so relieved is Sam to hear this that he lifts his head and kisses his brother and in kissing him, its as if they are back at the cottage, experiencing that first kiss, that first touch and in re-experiencing that both boys re-emerge into the world.

dark streets.

Jake is well shocked and Sam can't really blame him but he was coming between them and he couldn't let that happen, and they're dumping Jeremi along with the huge pile of garbage when they got caught. It's a man as black as pitch and when he talks you need a shower cos it oozes and he just says one word: '5,000.'
And Sam's like fuck it's a payoff for the man to not mention the dead boy between them but no, its not.
The man has a photo and he's talking about his sister getting 'dishonored' whatever that means and before Sam can say shit before Jake says '7,500' and this is really out of control cos all Sam can do is make sure Jake doesn't get hurt like he's in disbelief cos the guy in the pic is a Brit tourist and just wants something to fuck, doesn't really matter so much if its a boy or girl and Jake plays it, like acting drunk and asking to get walked home and Sam follows a short distance back and then the African dude cuts him off and Sam gives him the keys and just follows. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to see what's gonna happen just he damn well needs to be sure Jake is okay and he grabs the African guy by the arm to tell him if he hurts him he's dead and the guy just laughs.
'your friend will be fine.'
And it's really fucked up next cos he lets the fat man get into it, sweat pouring off his body and he's grunting like that only makes Sam think of one thing and then fuck the African dude's got the biggest knife he's ever seen and it just goes right through him like butter and this is all fucked cos he was inside Jake and Jake's not stopping cos he's still useful for a few minutes and the man just hands Sam an envelope sprouting cash and Jake cums and he says something about just in time and Sam goes and pukes all over the bathroom..

20 August 2009

I'm ready for my close up now Mr De'Milne.

ah, just fucking genius Sam, just genius’ Jake is just so angry with his brother Sam, Jeremi’s almost pushing himself into the wall, so does he not want to be involved in this row.
‘just see’ says Sam, ‘just see OK’
‘see what fuckhead, see you went out three hours ago with all our money and you come back with some admittedly good shit and some other stuff we have yet to see in your bag, what is that shirt anyway’
‘later, patience, dear brother OK, all in good time, now have another hit and stop stressing’. and Sam passes him the fat, fat blunt he has rolled from a baggie that seems so big, it would impossible to smoke the contents in this lifetime.
Jake takes a hit
‘it’s good yeah’ says Sam laughing and Jake passes him the blunt, but he palms it straight over to Jeremi, kill it man’ says Sam and Jeremi finishes it with a relish. Jake notices this and realises that Sam has been doing this for an hour solid now, passing the vast amount of the stuff onto Jeremi, whilst taking very little himself.
As Jeremi stubs the blunt out in the ashtray, Sam moves beside him on the sofa and starts to kiss him on the mouth, deep and as he kisses him he moves his hands to Jeremi’s jeans and massages his cock through the material and in no time under Sam’s guiding hand he’s hard as a rock and panting.
‘does Jeremi want more’ Sam says in a baby voice.
Jeremi whose past the point of a laughing this one off says ‘yeah, course’
And Sam stands and goes to his bag and pulls out a video recorder and tosses it to Jake who catches it and Sam starts to pull his clothes off.
‘come on then , lets party and party fucking hard Jeremi’ Sam says laughing and as he’s saying that Jeremi’s already pulling his tee over his head and then his jeans and shorts are down and off and he’s standing there so hard, so horney.
‘ah, nice’ says Sam. ‘you ready bro, with the camera’ and Jake just shrugs cos he’s never seen Sam this alive, so focused on anything, so he figures as bad as he might feel watching and filming this, he better jump on the idea fast.
‘yeah ready’ says Jake
And Sam pushes Jeremi onto his knees onto the floor so that his ass is pointed in the air and he pulls his bag closer and then inserts two and then three fingers roughly into Jerami’s ass.
‘fuck man’ says Jeremi
‘shut the fuck up bitch’ shouts Sam as he pounds Jeremi’s ass with almost his whole hand inside the boys ass.
‘fuck man, fuck, careful’
And that brings a swift response from Sam who pulls Jeremi’s hair back hard so that his head is forced back.
And Jake gets on the idea cos this is like new and horny, so he starts to engage with the idea of filming the two together.
‘want me to fuck you’ Sam say’s to Jeremi.
‘fuck yeah’ says Jeremi pushing his ass onto Sam’s hand.
And Sam withdraws his hand from Jeremi’s ass and moves on his knees closer to Jeremi and positions his cock at the boys asshole
‘ready bitch’ say’s Sam
‘fuck me man, fuck me’ say’s Jeremi and Sam pushes his cock into Jeremi and starts to fuck him rough and hard and fast and Jeremi’s screaming in a kind of fuck this hurts but don’t stop yet kiinda way and Sam’s stomach and balls are banging against Jeremy’s ass and you can hear the loud slapping clearly and then Sam grabs Jeremi’s balls and squeezes em really hard,
‘get that Jake get the balls man’
And Jake moves position and focuses on a mangled set of balls being worked hard by Sam’s hand
‘fuck you cunt’ shouts Jeremi and Sam just pulls his hair back harder and fucks him in short fast stabs and reaches and grabs Jeremi’s cock and jerks it hard.
‘I’m gonna cum’ shouts Jeremi
‘do it man, do it, cum’ screams Sam back at him
‘Jake get a long shot from his head down to me, make sure all of him is in frame OK'
And Jake moves to get the shot Sam has directed him to do.
Two boys on their knees one fucking the other’s brains out as if his life depends on it.
‘now come ya cunt, cum‘, shouts Sam,’cum now asshole’
‘yeah, yeah, ah, yeah’ and Jeremi’s there, he needs the release, he needs to shoot this load so bad.
And Sam can feels Jeremi’s cock squirting his load and as he cums Sam takes a lock knife from his bag and pulls it across Jeremi’s throat and he feels the warm blood flood over his hand.
And Jake drops the camera as he see’s the blood running,
‘fucking pick it up and film Jake’….Jake…pick up the camera… film…come on’
And Jake relieved to have another set of thoughts in his head does as Sam has told him
‘close up Jake on my cock and his ass, come on’ and Sam has to shout this louud tto Jake becausee Jeremi's make a loud griggling sound through the slash in his throat.
And Jake repositions so he can see Sam’s cock fucking the twitching, dying boys asshole and Sam withdraws his cock and shoots his thick, large load over Jeremi’s ass and the then he turns the boy over onto his back and grabs the camera from Jake and films Jeremi’s death, which takes about two minutes of blood flow and twitching and then it’s all over.
‘one more long shot, pan the body’ says Sam and he moves the camera as he has just directed himself, then he shuts the camera off, stands and looks at a pale shocked Jake.
‘dude what do you know, we got ourselves a real life snuff movie, should be worth a mint yeah’ and he throws the camera onto the couch and walks through to the shower.

19 August 2009


It's just hot and sleazy is the only way to describe it. The people all get on the roof at night for prayer and fuck shortly after and no one asked shit when they flashed the Euros just suddenly they have a room, no questions.
And Jake is boiling like so mad and Sam is almost scared to speak when he finally hisses in his ear it's, 'ok, i lied, my ass is for sale, and do you know why?'
And Sam just shakes his head, no, like wtf.
'Cos he never fucked me, but now he's gonna be the first and you're gonna watch.'
And Sam almost pukes right there but Jake is in charge like usual and he's looking at Jeremi and the kid looks uncertain but Sam just nods like whatever, it's Jake, no point in disagreeing, and he finds the cheap liquor and takes a big gulp and its turning him on in a fucked up kind of way to see them naked in bed together.
And they're just making out atm and Sam grabs Jeremi's dick and just massages it to get it just a bit harder before a little spit and he lets him push a bit and plays with Jake's so it won't hurt so much and then it's in and Jake has to tell Sam to stop cos he's gonna cum too quick but fuck that Sam just sucks harder and he shoots all warm and salty in Sam's mouth, but Jeremi's not ready yet and Jake tries to wriggle out but Sam won't let him, no, if he's gonna pay rent like this he better get used to it, and it's kinda hot to see Jake like this cos it's gonna make him cum again whether he wants to or not, Jeremi's got a big one.
Sam's hard too and he slips off the rip-off Nike sweats he bought and starts to fuck Jeremi, he has to go slow cos the kid is so tight and he bitches a little but he wants it.
'Play with him some,' instructs Sam.
And Jeremi starts grabbing Jake's soft dick and that just seems to make him a bit crazier and Jake is almost crying now cos it hurts so bad and feels so good.
'You close?' asks Jeremi and fuck Sam coulda been there five minutes ago so he just gasps and he feels the ass tighten a bit as he does too.
And Sam's well spent here and soaked with sweat, he gets up and lights a cig and finds the alc but Jake isn't done with them yet, he makes Jeremi put it back in so he can jerk off at least and nice some fucking life they've wound up with.

dumbass plans

it makes perfect sense ‘ say’s Sam
The other two boys look away as if slightly embarrassed by his idea.
‘what’ says Sam
‘are you for real’ says Jake
‘what’ says Sam become pissed at the two of them
‘OK’ says Sam, ‘why not’ and as he says this he spreads his arms wide.
Jake looks at him a mixture of concern and humour, mainly humour he guesses.
‘look Sam, Morocco’s like a Muslim country’
‘and’ says Sam
‘erm, Muslim’s and three gay boys, two of them brothers, all randy, sucking and fucking might just not be the winning combination in the hideaway stakes of life we need to be playing right now yeah’?
‘and that’s just it, dumbass’ say’s Sam
‘ whose gonna come a calling there’?
‘It’s gonna be cheap’ chips in Jeremi.
‘yeah, that too’ says Sam.
‘it feels so wrong’ says Jake shaking his head, worried now that Jeremi seems to be supporting Sam in this fucked up, half witted plan.
Jeremi’s already working the angles in his head, a boat, cheap Atlas mountain grade dope, eight miles to Spain, not just dope to smuggle either, all those illegal’s looking to enter Spain, start a new life, a dingy ride away.
‘I think we should give it a go’ says Jeremi.
‘see’ say’s Sam, ‘it’s not so dumbass to him, so Jake’
And he throws his brother an accusing look, a look to challenge the shit outta Jake.
‘It’s just so wrong, I can’t even begin to start to explain why’ says Jake.
‘cool’ says Sam. ‘Morroco it is then.
And then with a sparkle in his eye, a sparkle Jake spots immediately because it usually leads to enormous trouble and strife, troubles so large Sam says
‘and we can service all them pedo types who live there, I mean Jake you are only 15, they gonna pay for your ass big time and if there’s a little brotherly love thrown in we gonna cream em large style, no’.
‘No’ says Jake, ‘No’s the answer to that one‘.
‘we’ll see’ says Sam.
And now Jake is really starting to feel afraid, because he can see Sam not’s so far from serious with that idea.

17 August 2009

white flags.

He didn't mean it to happen it just did he jerked off and flipped over cos the sunburn hurt and he left the jeans unbuttoned cos he was lazy and next he knew it was fucking heaven like someone just greased him up and shoved it in so rough. And slowly he kinda realized it wasnt Jake's like he thought and he could've stopped it, fuck, no condom, he should've, but he didn't and just lay there cos Jeremi fucked him so different, rough and angry like. And he started to pull out he guesses cos he's gonna come and he says stay in and fuck it goes way in like further than ever he just gasps cos its making him cum also. And he's still in him and it's starting to hurt but he's not done, he wants more, so Sam rolls onto his back to let him in more and he opens his eyes for a second and Jake is watching an oh fuck this is gonna go so bad he thinks but then Jake goes down on him and he's getting so close and Jake tastes it and jumps right on it, no condoms no care right? Why worry about something that will kill us in ten years when there's no sure tomorrow?
Jake takes his turn after Jeremi, and he's never fucked Sam before or seemed into it, and he went for like 30 minutes so Sam can barely move now, both of them well past 8", he's just lying there covered in his own dried cum and filled with both of theirs and they're both standing at opposite ends of the boat when Jake just comes right out and says he made his decision.

13 August 2009


It's so foggy that Sam has a splitting headache from trying to see where they're going for hours. And to make things worse, he doesn't know where they are, for all he knows the sun could burn out reveal they were only miles of some coastline or it could just be water all around them. Jeremi swore they were only going to stay far enough out to be in international waters, to go out much more would put them in the middle of the shipping lanes which has also got Sam so nervous he can't sleep, every night it's a nightmare about waking up to some giant ship crashing through their little sailboat because their lights are too weak to be seen. None of them are doing well, either, Jake is seasick and Jeremi just let slip that he has asthma and no medicine and Sam got himself sunburned so it's like some bad nineteenth century sailor's tale, everything is going wrong. Jake has gone from being too flirty with Jeremi to being right protective of him which maybe even worse to Sam. Once Jake gets that way it's damned impossible to change it.
Jeremi is coughing again and Sam can't feel much about it, what the fuck is wrong with me, he wonders, but worse is when Jake comes out to see Jeremi gasping away and Sam just standing there doing nothing, and now Jake is there, calming Jeremi until it goes away.
'It's the humidity,' says Jeremi, and thanks Jake, but Jake is looking at Sam with the look of a boy who just got all his Christmas presents stolen from him and tears are in his eyes and he comes up to Sam.
'What the fuck? Do you want us to ignore you if you have a diabetic reaction? Do you?'
And Sam feels just, shame, 'cos Jake is right, and he looks down and all he can do is apologize but Jake hisses, cutting him off.
'Don't apologize to me. Apologize to him. We all need each other now, all of us,' and then he's gone without even sticking around to see if Sam apologizes and he feels like puking atm 'cos he's being a real shit to Jeremi and he has to make himself do this, I mean fuck at least Jeremi through whatever fucked up chain of events got people scared enough to leave them alone for now, and he just says sorry.
And Jeremi shocks Sam with a big hug and tears and kisses him on the cheek and says he's not trying to come between them just he's well scared, not just cos his never been alone like this before or had to trust other people like this, he's a little scared of Jake, too, some, Jake who seems to swing between murderous rage and desperate loneliness, and Jeremi has a point there.
So Sam just says, hey, kiddo, let's get you out of the damp.
He brings him below decks, Jake is crying, Sam doesn't know why, Jake isn't in a real forgiving mood, he justs look at Sam and fuck he knows how to get back at him, how to really hurt him, dragging Jeremi into his bed.
He's undressing himself and Jeremi right in front of Sam, touching him gently, and Sam figures on some level he deserves this, and Jake is standing up and leans in close.
'I'm gonna have sex with him,' he whispers, 'and whether or not that ends up meaning anything is something you really got to think about, now.'
And for a minute Sam's just frozen in place, 'cos Jake is, not just sex but kissing Jeremi while his eyes are still fixed on Sam. Sam can't figure out how to react 'cos it's making feel like eight things at once, eight different things that he didn't think he could possibly feel at the same time, but he's not gonna give him the satisfaction, no, he goes up to the deck and finds a beer and smokes and lights one and then he just closes his eyes. He slides his hand down his jeans and starts massaging himself, gently, the fog wrapping him up tight and before he even is ready he cums all over the place, and curious, he tastes it, wonders what he tastes like, and decides he's not even gonna clean himself up cos he wonders what Jake will do when he comes out and sees what he's done. Jake's only caught him doing himself once and Sam knew on some level it hurt, as if Jake was scared he wasn't enough for Sam.

11 August 2009


“We all end up with our personal garbage , out own rotten, totally rotten, putrid smelling secrets, rotting away at us from the inside out, until it emerges through swollen pores visible in our behaviours and attitudes for the whole world to see and deal with. It’s a poison that destroys the spirit, optimism, love, compassion, whatever, it destroys any kind of future and this is just how Sam felt as he sat on the deck and watched Jake and that French tart Jeremi. A murder, a murderous brother to be accurate and where exactly would Jake draw the line on that one, just how far would he go to get whatever it was at that moment in time, would he go as far as Sam, if Sam were to cross him somehow, would Jake kill his own brother, the act itself had been so fast, so instantaneous Sam hadn’t seen it coming until the wood had exploded across and then into Sydney’s face, no warning just action that’s Jake. Sam watched as Jeremi put his arm around Jake, laughing, flirting, looking into his brothers eyes deeply, no fuck this thought Sam, it’s just totally out of order wrong, bang outta, and as he watched he thought I need to get a wedge in between Jake and Jeremi, poison Jake against Jeremi, until that murderous rage exploded, yeah thought Sam, that’s the way to get rid of that French tart, get Jake so poisoned up against him that he did it, leaving no opposition for Sam, just the two of them again and as he thought how he would do that Sam sat back and watched and as he watched the two of them together his anger focused into a plan.

09 August 2009

open water.

Sam hopes things get better. They left a mess in Calais. The conductor wasn't drunk but he wasn't all there, he was texting when the train ran through so the crowd at the Calais stop got to meet the upper half of Sydney Thomson which of course ran live on BBC along with all of their photos. He's not sure what to make of Jeremi. He brings money into the whole plan, which is something they really needed cos Jake seemed to go through it like water around French food and wine, but that life is done and they can't set foot in Europe for a long time now that their pics are on BBC and everywhere else.
They're sailing somewhere different, straight out into the ocean, and thankfully Jeremi knows what he's doing there, no more of Sam fishing Jake out of the soup cos he got knocked over by the sail. Jeremi has his mobile with him to tell his dad he was okay and going away for a while and his godfather is getting well bent by the French police for operating without permission and they're wondering about the mayor's involvement cos the coverup was a complete fail, some old lady talked and everything came out. And it's almost a relief to see the bars on the Orange phone go to zero and then roam and then nothing and they're really out in it now, no land in sight.
Jake hasn't spoken a word in a day and barely come out of the cabin, not since he beat Sydney, he won't even let Sam near him atm though he seems to get on with Jeremi okay and let Jeremi hug him so at least maybe he can talk to him if he feels like it.
Jeremi picks up the mobile, studies it, then tosses it into the sea.
'Fuck the world,' he says.
And Jake finally comes out and the first person he talks to is Jeremi, which bothers Sam, but at least he's talking, something about making lunch for them.
'Let's go someplace warm,' he mutters. 'I don't wanna be cold ever again.'
And then he hugs Jeremi and tugs on Sam's shirt to bring him in and just maybe the world has tilted a bit in their favor.
Trenhomle's watching breakfast television, well he has an ear on it, he finds both of the presenters irritating in the extreme, so he listens.
He's beyond irritation, the deal for the kids heart has hit the rails just as it was on, everyone had disappeared off the face of the earth, mobiles no longer worked, all contact lost and a son dying by the second, losing weight, skin almost translucent blue.The mention of the name of a school on the news makes him turn and look at the TV set.
'French Police have issued an appeal concerning the murder last night of a recently retired English and Latin schoolmaster Sydney Thompson formally of St Luke's Public School, Worcester. The French Police believe his murder may be tied to that of missing school boy Jake Smart and his older brother Sam Smart. The boy's have not been since the murder of their mother and lover and apparent suicide of father Jacob at the family cottage just outside Basingstoke, Hampshire. Anyone with details should contact investigating magistrate Ms Dederoit at Calais Central Police Station, contact details of which appear on our BBC news web site, the number is also at the bottom of your screens....now'
then the idiot newsreaders move onto a story concerning Madonna and her apparent physical assault by one of the children she recently adopted from the Philippines.
Trenholme picks up his mobile and locates the name of his Head of HR and pushes 'dial'.
"Carol..Ian...I have to take a few days out, no longer than a week" he listens as his rather dull, overweight Head cackles on about 'no problem' he almost cuts her off before she has finished. Then he shouts through to his wife who is attending to their son in the kitchen.
"Jane, I have to go to Calais, there maybe some news there that can re-start our search, I need to pack and go, I will phone you from the car, OK and try and watch the news, you will see what I mean" and shhe nods her head and say's
"go. go, quickly" and returns to their son in the kitchen.

08 August 2009

Its enough he guesses for now though he's trying to game how to keep things going once he finds the people this fat man is looking for, game it so he can tell him to swoop him off his feet and find an apartment in Paris or Bruxelles or Bruge and why not hey let him pay the deposit. The man is in love with him and he could care less except what easier way is there than to take advantage of that?
And he curses to himself cos it's 23:00 and he's crawling over a sand dune, he had to make it look more difficult than it really was to find them, I mean it's two kids in a giant sailboat which kinda stands out.
He hopes Sydney is as stupid as he seems, too, cos that scary fuck also named Sydney has been following them non-stop all day and is as subtle as an express train, and he better not fucknig expect to get a cut of it, cos Jeremi is gonna work this all the way if he can.
There's a yell just after they cross the dune and he has the common sense to dodge and duck, but for a fat man like Sydney that's not so easy, the younger one of the two has a piece of driftwood and smacks him right across the face which takes him down well quick and he just stands for a second and seems to recognize him and fuck he goes berserk and starts smashing his face with it and then Jeremi has to do something to protect his investment and it's him and the psycho guy and the other kid all trying to pry him off and they're getting sprayed with blood and bits of Sydney and fuck how can this kid be so strong they can barely knock him down.
And finally they manage to just knock him over but he's smashed his face in well serious and been kicking him like a football and fuck there's blood everywhere and Sydney isn't moving and his sport jacket is drenched with blood and his face is a pulp of shattered bones and blood and ripped flesh and fuck fuck the scary Sydney is checking his pulse and looking all serious and fuck Jeremi is now thinking how the fuck what the fuck cos he's never seen someone beat this bad and now scary Sydney is doing CPR and the bank at least coughs and spits up blood, he's spitting it up bigtime, huge chunks of something soaked in red.
And now the younger one speaks and he says 'Why the fuck can't all of you stay out of your lives?'
And suddenly he's at him again, knocks the psycho guy right over and this time it's for real, he just slamming a huge piece of wood down on the bank's head and this time no one is stepping in cos they're all to scared, he just's smashing and smashing and the dunes are running over with blood and his face is all grotesque broken up and its him and scary guy and the other kid just standing at the outskirts of this play with no fucking clue, it's just like he wants to end this guy, and finally scary guy tries to step in and fuck if he doesn't get piece too, right across the head, with as much force as a pro cricket player and that's when the other kid steps in and then the younger one just collapses and starts crying and this is all so fucked up, the bank has to be dead by now, he's in pieces and curled up in some strange fucked crunched position and bits of him are falling out of his head like one of his eyes and thats so fucking gross cos it's like hanging out and hes not breathing and Jeremi's 'protector' is also out, stunned, and then the older one speaks.
'Why can't you just fucking leave us be?'
And fuck Jeremi doesn't know what to say, he wasn't tryin to be a part of this just it ended up happening and now he feels guilty cos the fat man spent his last 4200 on him to die in a smashed-up pile on the dunes and he finds himself asking the pair to take him with him, cos sure as hell he's well fucked if he stays, even tho psycho guy has come to and is rubbing his head and muttering something about putting the body on the train tracks, all he can think of is going to the jar and getting the rest of it and begging them to take him away cos unless the conductor is blind there's no way to pass this off as anything than it was.
He's sitting here and feeling sick and realizing this is the first dead body he's seen, the first time he's seen someone smashed to pieces. What a sad ending for such a sad man.

Moving On.

“maybe we should think of moving on Sam, move down the coast a little”
“why” say’s Sam, not sure why he would even question because he doesn’t really care where he is as long as Jake’s there.
“well I don’t think we should stay in one place too long, not just yet anyway”.
“like love on the run” laughs Sam.
“yeah Sam, just like love on the run”
“but what we running from Jake”
“dunno, but it feels safer to keep moving for now”
“can’t we just stay a few days Jake and then move”“feels like a risk Sam, it just feels risky to me”
suddenly Sam remembers the Jake of old, always with a devious, nasty little plan that would always bite you when you less expected.
“but I thought you said no plans Jake, what’s this if it’s not a plan”
“I’m not sure it’s a plan Sam to be honest, it’s just an idea and I think it’s a safe one” and now Jake’s a little pissed at Sam, because sometimes Sam can be a little fuckhead when it comes to running his life.
“well moving along the coast sounds like a plan to me, what’s it a plan for”?
“its not a plan for anything Sam, remember the last plan you were involved in would have seen you missing vital organs by now, sold over the internet.
“well my plan say’s stay here” says Sam and he has no reason to say this apart from Jake’s started to get all bossy and planny on him and he knows where that leads too usually.
“OK, OK, Sam, to make you see there is no plan, nothing, we will stay here, OK, stay here for fucking ever if you like, but don’t come woosing it up to me when something happens.
“good” says Sam “here it is then”
and although Sam has got his own way he’s starting to immediately regret it, because it means he will be responsible for anything that happens from here on in and Sam knows he’s not big on responsibility.

06 August 2009


'You did what with him?' says Matthieu to Jeremi, glaring at Sydney now, 'You said you would keep an eye on him, dammit. And now this? How could you do this?'
Matthieu is furious and pacing. 'How?' he repeats.
Jeremi produces a thick was of Euros.
Sydney counts it.
'There's nearly two thousand euros here.'
'What did you do with him?' demands Matthieu.
'Do you really want to know? Do you care? He didn't force me to do anything, I just wanted his money, and if all it takes is me doin' some acting for his fat pasty greasy corpse of a body, so be it. He said to meet up with him this afternoon and he's gonna give me more, not just for, you know, but to help him find someone tonight.'
'I knew it,' said Sydney.
'Knew what.'
But he can't exactly level with Matthieu about why he's here so he has to concoct an elaborate story about Jake and Sam and Sydney Thomson trying to abduct them for sale into some harem and by the time he's through he can't believe himself what he just tried to pass off as real but apparently Matthieu is shellshocked enough by what Jeremi is doing that he'll believe anything now, his jaw has been hanging open and and twitching for like five minutes.
'Give me back my money,' says Jeremi. 'Do I have to do this thing with helping him find those people? I mean, I got a good thing going here, I can play him for a few more days and probably take everything he has.'
'I suppose you'll be nice enough to leave him enough to buy a Eurostar back to the UK,' says Sydney, handing him back his money. This kid was starting to remind him of Somalia.
'Standard class,' answers Jeremi, and before Matthieu can say anything more, he's gone.
'Well, Matthieu, like you said, I'm not sure Jeremi is the one in need of protecting.'

Jeremi stuffs the €1900 in a place he knows no one but him will ever find it, then wonders just how much more this man is good for. At this rate he'll be able to let a decent flat in Paris or Bruxelles, far from this shit village, and he doesn't care what they told him, he's gonna lead this fat old idiot on several wild rides at night to not find anything at all, just to keep him paying up, and whatever the fat man wants, he'll get so long as his euros are there.
And he finds the man, sitting in public, drinking straight from a bottle of some cheap vodka, I guess Sydney has figured out that people hating him just means he can get away with anything. He offers Jeremi a swig, and Jeremi knows the role Sydney most wants him to play.
'My dad says I can't drink,' he says, puppy-dog like.
'It's okay,' says Sydney. 'I won't tell. And I have money for you, too.'
Jeremi pretends to hesitate and takes a swig from the bottle, ignoring the fact that the fat man's spit-stained mustache and backwash are all over the bottle mouth and the vodka is not just warm, it's practically hot from being in the man's fat hands for an hour.
And he leads him back to his flat, holding his hand like the man wants, and doesn't complain when Sydney tells him to put on some pajamas with cartoon characters on it, doesn't complain even when the man wants him to take off the pajama top and takes a photograph of him shirtless with a cheap disposable camera. Sydney wants to give him a bath and wash his hair and then accidentally drops the soap bar in and fumbles around down there just 'cos Jeremi is letting him, and now he's putting the soap bar in places that Jeremi isn't so sure about, he just closes his mind to it though and thinks about the money, about a place in Paris, not about the clumsy pudgy fingers prodding him with uncut dirty nails, none of that, just, the money. 'Cos he's a good actor and actors do what they're paid to do, right?
So he plays this one to the max, getting out of the tub and stuffing himself into the pajama bottoms but letting Sydney pop the button off the front and fiddle about, think of the money, and he doesn't even mind so much now when he's told to lie on his stomach and Sydney climbs on top, almost knocking the wind out of him while he fumbles with his member to try to get this little thing in, it's a tough task when you can't see around your stomach, but he manages and then it's just flap, flap as his gut slaps against Jeremi's ass and back and then he grunts like a cow getting milked with cold hands and at least the job is done and Jeremi goes to collect his salary and is pleased to see there's even more money in there this time.
'I put some extra in there, so you can help me find those people tonight, okay?'
'Oui,' says Jeremi.
'Can I play with yours some?' he asks and Jeremi nods, he doesn't mind anyone jerking him off, really, he just closes his eyes and thinks about the woman on TV in the shower commercials and that sweet tiny patch of red hair down there, the soap trickling around her pussy, imagining himself down there, first with gentle fingers, then his tongue, licking it and her moaning, and then he shoots everywhere at the thought of the slight wet fishy taste in his mouth.
'Wow, big boy,' says Sydney. 'You must have really enjoyed what I did.'
'Oui, but of course, oui, you want you can stay tonight, for money of course?'
The bubble of spit hanging from Jeremi's mouth becomes a major fascination for Sydney or more correctly the boys lips do, so red and full, firm to the kiss, he reaches across and with a finger scoops the spit from the boys face and places it in his own mouth and drinks down and as his finger enters his own mouth his cock hardens so that the tip of it is now brushing against Jeremi's fingers. Jeremi opens his hand and takes Sydney's cock, still moist from their earlier sex and runs his fingers along the cock and then sucks his fingers, tasting Sydney. Sydney's eyes narrow, he cannot imagine why anyone would want to do that. Then Jeremi bends forwards and takes Sydney's cock in his mouth, cleansing it with his mouth, licking and sucking clean and as he does Sydney's cock starts to ooze pre-cum so Jeremi licks that as well and with a massive suck along the length lets the cock fall from his mouth but he keeps his tongue in contact with Sydney's body and starts to lick his distended stomach and pushes the stomach with his hand so the rolls fat of flatten out, he moves further up Sydney's body to his tits and they are tits so like a woman is Sydney's body shape and licks and sucks on Sydney's nipples like a new born with it's mother. Sydney lies back wanting this more than anything in the world.
"more tomorrow, yes" says's Jeremi
and Sydney says "no now, please"
Jeremi puts his hand back around Sydney's cock and gives it a pull and says
"non, tomorrow, money first, then sex,yes".

05 August 2009


Sydney thinks he should have seen his doctor before hand, because he almost stroked out, one second Jeremi was hinting at what might be possible and the next he was riding him, everytime he squatted down all the way it 'bout made Sydney explode and maybe he just did fucking die and go to heaven.
He never knew it could be like this, never knew a world beyond smell piss-stained public urinals and sweat-stinking moldy bathhouses and god here was Jeremi, just perfect, his skin so pale and white and yes he knows exactly what he's with.
'You're an angel,' he says, almost in disbelief that he just said that out loud, but it's true ffs, Jeremi is an angel of some sort, his angel, and the boy just laughs.
'Non, non,' he protests, and matter of factly stands up, the head of his penis still moist, walking past Sydney and its so close to his lips it makes him almost cry. And the boy opens up Sydney's wallet and helps himself but Sydney doesn't care.
'I can get more,' he says, 'will you let me stay?'
'If you can get more, to be sure, yes.'
'And later I need your help with something, I will pay you for that, also.'
'Is fine. You want to take sleep first? Dormir avec votre ange?'
Sydney nods, this is just amazing, the boy curled up, secure, not even caring about the folds of Sydney's sagging skin on top of his stomach, he just breathes, a soft scent of intoxicating orange wafting from his perfect full lips like Cointreau sex which are just slightly apart to show his gleaming perfect teeth, a bubble of spit slipping out of the corner of the boy's mouth.
Sydney is stroking his long black hair gently and whispers, 'You are so beautiful, so perfect in every way.' And Jeremi moves his hand ever so slightly, until it just barely rests itself on Sydney's pubes.

A Boy An Orange and A Grubby Set Of White Underwear

Jeremi sits next to Sydney on the sofa and as his ass hit’s the seat he spreads his legs so wide his jeans creak at the seams and he wipes both hands one on each leg, his hands spread on top of his thighs and then down to his knees.
“that’s better” he says.
“yes absolutely” says Sydney still staring at the legs cased in tight jeans.
Jeremi moves his hands to his crotch and pretends to wipe his hands again as he moves them over his cock, an outline of which appears.
Sydney is transfixed and cannot take his eyes off the boys crotch.
“I think you like some fun sometimes” says Jeremi in his best little boy lost, coy voice.
“I do” says Sydney rather solemnly as he cannot really imagine, such a boy would ever want to have sex with him willingly, twenty years at least the boys senior at least five stone over weight and no prospects to speak of.
Jeremi claps his hands together and laughs
“what fun then” and drapes his arm behind Sydney’s head on the sofa, he shifts his body, one leg under the other to show better his hardening cock.
Sydney’s out of his depth and he knows it, he’s more used to being in control of the boy, more used to submission even tears as he dances his dance of seduction. He watches as Jeremi peels the second orange, slowly, Sydney transfixed by his slim elegant, noble even fingers. Fingers which might soon to touching and rubbing, probing and loving Sydney’s body. Jeremi places the peeled orange on a table next to the sofa and stands.
“and now fun”
And he slowly peels the tee over his head, Sydney watches as the tee rises over a flat well muscled set of abs, as it travels over ribs, exposed and sharp under soft, sunburnt skin, then over a slender neck, then over head and as he drops his tee shirt to the floor Jeremi shifts his weight onto one leg so his upper body has a curve to it. Sydney pulls at his swollen cock through his thick woollen trousers. Jeremi see’s this and giggles “what fun” and kneels in front of Sydney and undoes his belt and buttons on his trousers and pulls them off his overweight rather pale legs. Jeremi raises himself slightly and feels Sydney’s rather small, podgy cock through his white underwear
“and now” Jeremi places his hands on the bands of Sydney’s underwear and pulls them down, Sydney lifts hiss ass to aid removal and as they slide down his legs his rather small, pale cock springs up. Jeremi stands and pulls his own jeans and shorts off in one motion, a full, hard, lengthy cock springs against his flat stomach.
“so this is fun” he laughs and Sydney can just about answer “yes” so tight and constricted is this throat. Then Jeremi picks up the peeled orange from the table and pushes it into Sydney’s mouth, Sydney tries to struggle
“non” Jeremi crys and pushes it further inside Sydney’s mouth. Jeremi then sucks three of his fingers and pushes them inside his ass and Sydney’s cock starts to ooze some pre cum and Sydney wipes his cock with thumb and forefinger as Jeremi moves astride him and slides his ass over Sydney’s cock.


'Who are you and what the hell is my son doing with that stranger?' snarls a voice directly behind Sydney, all the more shocking because he's gotten himself so wrapped in the stageplay he's created he complete forgot his surroundings, something Sydney never does. He spins to confront the voice.
'And just who- wait...Matthieu? Is that really you?'
The man looks the same as he did ten years ago, a little more wrinkled, perhaps, but the same intense dark green eyes, unusual enough without the smooth straight jet black hair he still kept long enough to almost seem unkempt.
'Sydney? Well I'll be fucked, it's been, what, ten years?'
'Fifteen I'm guessing.'
'Damn. We're old men now, aren't we?'
'Speak for yourself.'
It's as if it they were back there, that summer where Sydney, then a relative newcomer to SAS, had participated in a joint exercise with his counterparts across the channel and found a friend at once in Matthieu. Despite being the son of a prominent and very wealthy family, the young man of perhaps twenty-three at the time never had made any comments about it. Sydney had taken him under his wing and the two of them became inseparable, a pair everyone wanted on their excercises because they moved in perfect lockstep every time.
'So, all history aside, what have you gotten my son into?'
'See that man there?'
'The one that is drunkenly trying to grope my son,' says Matthieu, not sounding at all amused.
'Your son's idea, not mine, and I must say he must have learned some skills from you about getting people to let down their guard.'
Matthieu grunts, and he's obviously still not very happy, so Sydney continues, 'That man is involved in a few things back home we couldn't quite pin him down on. Nothing dangerous, mind you, but when he decided to come to France, well, I figured he might be easier to catch off-guard.'
'What sort of things?'
'Smuggling of some kind, is our best guess. Prepaid cel phones to people in port cities, that sort of thing, and he seems to have a thing for, well, you know.'
'I'm getting a picture, and I'm not liking it.'
'I'm not going to let your son out of my sight, you know me, he's safe.'
'It's not my son I am worried about, my friend. The boy is a demon, I am quite sure, even still, he is my son.'
'Well, perhaps you can also assist here, the people I represent would...be quite appreciative, if you get my meaning.'
'What are you trying to accomplish?'
'Well, if your son is overly friendly to him, and a lot of the other people are downright mean, that will put your son in the unique position of trust, a position where a man is likely to betray himself quite easily.'
'So, what do you want me to do? I can spread the word among the elders and parents here pretty quickly, we are a small enough village, if you think that will work.'
'Yes, let's do that. He's also rented a car -- see the Citroen over there?'
'The hideously colored one -- god, is that purple? I didn't know such a color existed, mon dieu.'
'I think it needs a ticket, it is illegal to park right in front of the pub like that, right? And then maybe ask your officers to ignore what happens next?'
Matthieu laughs.
'God, Sydney, you haven't changed. Remind me to stay on your good side.'

Inside, Sydney Thomson is having some difficulty concentrating. Too many pints and he keeps looking back and forth between the beer and the boy, the tender drops of sweat trickling down his naked chest, across his nipples, down to his stomach before disappearing behind the belt that holds secrets for Sydney, oh just to trace that bead all the way down. He doesn't even notice the boy looking over his shoulder, the subtle nod he gives to an unseen man outside.
'Is that your car?' asks the boy.
'Car? What- Oh, fuck, great, a parking ticket. Where's the bloody sign that says I can't park there?'
He almost makes the door before two teenagers crash into him knocking him over. To his disbelief they start smashing the windows out of it.
'That's my fucking car! My fucking car! Where'd the fucking copper go that was just here?! Police!'
But they're gone and he's lying on the sidewalk, wondering if he bought insurance with the rental. An old woman in a shawl stops in front of him and looks at him with the meanest look he's ever seen on a woman in his life.
'Madame??' he asks.
'Va te faire foutre! Clochard de merde!' and to his disbelief, she *spits* on him. Yes, spits.
'What the bloody fucking hell?!'
He starts to stand, indignant, before he feels a firm hand on his shoulder
'Don't,' hisses a voice, 'It's not safe for you here, come with me, now or there is trouble. You do not want to make these people angry, gypsies.'
He now notices that there are several people staring at him, before the boy spoke they would have seemed normal enough but now that he looks at them, there definitely is *something* off. Something he can't quite put his finger on.
The hand tugs on his shoulder again, and a chill runs down his spine, and Sydney is only to happy to follow wherever the boy is taking him, which turns out to be a small cellar apartment which has barely a stick of furniture in it, just a lamp, a floor with a mattress on it.
'J'mappelle Jérémi', says the boy, and Sydney can almost feel rust on his mental gears as he tries to unshackle his memories of French from three decades ago.
'Sydney,' he says, 'uhm...Anglais?'
The boy nods and produces two oranges from his backpack, offering Sydney one, but all Sydney can do is sit there, realizing now he's alone with Jérémi, smelling the sweetness of the fruit, seeing its juice trickle down across the boy's lips, dribbling onto the crotch of his dirty ripped jeans. He reaches out and touches the boy's crotch, and the boy is a bit shocked but all he says is, 'is fifty euros to start, okay?' with a soft look in his eyes, so pouty, and Sydney notices that his pupils are catching the sunlight so slightly they almost seem violet in the semi-darkness of the room, and he feels a stirring in the jeans.
'You can touch to me,' says Jérémi. 'Is cool. Touch for real touch, okay?'

A Predatory Step Closer For Sydney

Sydney watches as the youth leans across the bar and orders a coke, he remains leant across the bar as the barman walks away to get a cold coke from the freezer shelf.
The youth aware he is being watched, places one foot on top of the other to give his long legs a tight outline, he grinds one foot into the other so his leg muscles tense through his jeans. Sydney cannot take his eyes off the boy and allows, demands that his eyes travel up the long legs of the youth to the small of the boys back as his tee raised up in the posture of leaning exposes the lower vertebrae of his back, eyes travel down the muscle group to see a vivid white line against the boys tanned skin the line interrupted only by the boys butt crack his eyes travel down to a perfectly arranged white elastic band the top of the boys shorts, eyes travel down, green and white hoop’d material tort against the boys ass, back to legs still moving, still grinding.
Sydney moves a step closer, a predatory step closer, moving into the boys space and looks down again.
He can feel the boys vertebrae as he runs his hands down the lower of the boys spine, feel his fingers move against the bone that is supported by such soft skin, skin that gives slightly to the touch and down and he imagines he is tracing with a finger the boys tan line and then placing his tongue on the youths skin and licking around the boys body where the line runs in perfect geometry the circumference of his body and back to the boys ass, tongue in butt crack working its way down to the boys ass, he lets out a slight groan as he imagines his tongue placed against the boys asshole, he imagines pushing his tongue inside the youth and as he imagines he lets out a long sigh.
Sydney is snapped back to the bar as the boy speaks to him.
“er Bonsoir, ja’m..”
The boy interrupts

“English please, you are English”
“yes” says Sydney “I am English”
And as Sydney says “yes” another “yes” is being spoken on a boat barely half a mile away, a yes that see’s two boys, two brothers wrapped in each others arms, hot, in love and as Sam say’s “yes” Jake moves his cock towards Sam’s ass.

04 August 2009

The rain that threatened in London developed while they were in the tunnel so much that the Eurostar had to slow down because of crosswinds. By the time they hit Calais, Sydney was practically about to explode from the delay. But he knew the man he sought well enough by now to have figured exactly what Sydney Thomson would do, a weak man, he would find the rain too much to deal with and duck into a bar, preferably one close to the station so as not to involve to much effort. And sure enough, a cautious peek around a corner found the man taking a swim in a giant glass of beer, Sydney notices the man has taste if not a sense of irony because he's chosen the Belgian beer 'Nostradamus.'
He's determined his course of action here, to some extent, its to very much stay invisible yet create a chain of events that convince the pathetic man thinks he is cursed. Going at him head on had not been working, his defenses and stubborness were too much up, so the trick would be to convince him that something supernatural was aligning against him. As if magic were against his plans. Sydney knew just the trick, in fact almost tripped over his first rabbit in the hat trying to avoid being seen, a slight youth of perhaps sixteen or fifteen who was looking at him curiously.
'My papa is the mayor,' the boy announces in "rustic" French, 'and he detests strangers lurking about peering in the windows.'
Sydney smiles to himself and peels a hundred euros.
'Then you can make me your friend. I, well, we, need some assistance from your town, and you first, with that gentleman in there. He's a very bad sort which my agency has been trying to catch in the act of, of,'
Best not be too specific. Let the boy put words into his mouth.
The trick works, because the boy wants to feel as powerful as his dad, and he's going to use exactly the powers that will work best on Sydney Thomson to get the man chased by people with pitchforks, well, maybe not literally, that'd be too much fun. Sydney watches the boy peel off his skin-tight T-shirt and saunter into the bar, careful to almost slither by ever so close to the pitiful man, and thinks to himself the lad has a gift for ruining lives, almost takes a sort of pride in it.
And it works, for now Sydney Thomson's developed a shake in one hand and after a moment finds an excuse to say hello to the boy, practically falling over himself to look casual while acting as nonchalant as a starved coyote in a nursery full of infants.
This is going to be a lot of fun.
"I don't believe this, tickets to Calais on Eurostar, time"?
Jake's godfather Sydney is taking a call from that creep Sydney Thompson bank
"OK thanks" he says to the teller whose being paid handsomely to closely monitor Sydney Thompson's account.
Calais, two missing boys, a missing boat and now their old teachers heading off to France.
Sydney looks at his watch and with a cab he can make that train, he throws a few clothes into a bag, steps out into the London grey drizzle and hails a cab.

03 August 2009

trains and tunnels

The sun had finally come out and Sydney Thompson recalled thinking to himself, why not pop out to the pub, walk around a bit. So he did and enjoyed a pint or three or more, and then he found himself looking at his watch.
"Right, well I've got to go," he announced to the bartender.
"In such a hurry? Where to?"
"I'm going to go die, I think."
He laughs a bit, "Well it, it really doesn't matter, now does it?"
He has decided to refuse to concern himself with threats and facts. It's simple, really. He made a decision, and that's that. It's really such a relief. He has no issue dropping £215 to get the very best Eurostar seats from St. Pancras to Calais. He smiles at everyone, which is apparently something people find alarming, but he doesn't mind them.
He's going to Calais.
He's going to find Jake, and he's going to get an explanation. For everything.
While he realizes what happens to him whenever he is unwise enough to follow a few pints with the harder stuff, this is business class, and class is the word, so he orders a double Gray Goose with a twist. The English countryside whirs by at an increasing rate of speed, and the fact it is receding is also making feel even better. He smiles to himself and chuckles at an article in the magazine he picked up back at the station. He chuckles to himself again when he gets his drink, careful not to spill it, savoring its icy burn as the train descends into the tunnel.

Sam's second and third thoughts

Sam watches Jake as he drifts into what?
Sleep a coma, death.
"fuck Sam you stupid shit, why did you do that, cos I can't trust him, never could, never will, whys he being so nice, ask yourself that Sam, cos he's fucked up at school and needs someone now and he thinks that's me does he, he sprung you from hospital didn't he, came and got you, sorted the cottage for you, how was he to know some rednecks would come along and the sex well hadn't that just happened, as much as you as him" Sam's heads spinning, for every opinion there's another and he doesn't have a clue which opinion if any might be the right one.
"so that's enough to kill him is it Sam, because you don't know if he's faking or not, did the sex' the love, the way he held you, kissed you, long and tender the way he lay back all nervous the first time you went down on him, he trusted you to shove ya fist up his ass for fucks sake Sam all that passed between you two, did that feel fake or did it feel like the best thing that's ever happened to you, Well Sam".
Sam shifts, uneasily.
"fuck, fuck, Jake, Jake, wake up, wake up and he slaps Jake face hard.
Jake comes out of his sleep with a bump.
"Jake you need to chuck man, in the bathroom now"
Jake's confused
"I don't feel sick Sam, I just need sleep"
"No Jake, come on, I heard you in your sleep you were retching, now come on".
Sam helps Jake out of bed, a lack of sleep and maybe the Xanax make him stagger a little so Sam holds him upright and walks him to the bathroom.
"Now put a finger down your throat and chuck says Sam. Jake blinks at him, unsure, but does what he's told and suddenly there's a gush of water and three undissolved pills laying in the bowl.
"well done" says Sam
"yeah" says Jake a little unsure.
"now back to bed mister" says Sam in his best matronly tone and he helps his brother back into bed and pulls him tight against his body as he again watches Jake drift into sleep.
As Sam starts to feel sleep coming he looks at Jake and says
"night Jake the fake" and drifts into a sleep of his own.

Sam. Dreams and Pillls

"its OK Jake, I'm here" says Sam as he scrapes himself off the ceiling.
"it's good, just me and you and the boat, remember"
and Jake looks at Sam and the boat and runs his hand through his hair to take it out of his eyes.
"yeah, it's OK Sam, I musta been dreaming"
"and some" says Sam
"man I am so tired and now I'm kinda scared to close my eyes again"
"hold on" says Sam and he gets up from the bed and walks into the galley, pours a glass of water and tips six Xanax from the bottle of pills, he stands and looks at them in the palm of his hand, tosses em up and they land back pretty much where they had been, as Sam thinks he tosses the pills. Then he places the three pills on the kitchen worktop and as he grinds them with the back of a spoon into powder all that's running through his head is "fraud, ya fake Jake, fucking asshole fake" and as his anger builds in it's intensity he grinds them down.
"Sam, you OK, out there"? shouts Jake
"Yep, hold on, be right there" and Sam sweeps the powder into the glass and shakes it, then takes another three Xanax from the bottle and takes them and the water through to Jake.
"here, take these and drink this fast, wash em down" Sam holds out the pills and the water and Jake puts all three in his mouth and necks the water.
"Now just lie here against my arm and get some sleep" says Sam drawing him into his body and as Jake starts to drift back into sleep Sam looks at his brother but all he hears is "fake, ya fucking fake man" run through his head.

01 August 2009


It's the same one every night.

Jake is in the dark ocean and the storm is back, whipping the surface waves.  He turns and turns but he can't find the boat, can't find Sam. He yells for his name and the water is freezing, so cold his penis is shrinking to nothing and he can almost feel his lips turning blue, so scared he feels like his heart might jump right out of his throat and skip away across the water to dry land and warmth and safety.
Something brushes his leg and he laughs and yells 'Sam, stop it, asshole, you scared me.'
But there's no response, just more wind and rain, and the something brushes against his leg again and suddenly grabs his leg hard, like ten of his dad's friend Sydney hard, and he fights but it drags him beneath the waves.
He sees an eye that seems to have no life or emotion in it rush by him.  And another.  And more.  And all around him, glinting through the lightning-lit ocean, glimpses of rows of jagged, cruel, serrated teeth.  And his air is giving out fast and all he can do is scream for Sam but there's no answer and the teeth are closer...closer...closer...

And he wakes up with a scream this time, it was worse than usual, Sam was already awake and jumps so high he almost knocks himself out on the cabin roof.
'What the fuck?' he asks him.
And Jake wants to tell him but he can't, this can't be real, every time Sam says 'no plans' Jake wants to shake him and tell him he's not built like that and fuck if it were anyone but Sam he would never have done any of this or trusted any of this enough to agree to it.  He just wonders how he's gonna keep living like this, 'cos he can't sleep for shit but he wants to because he really feels like, just maybe for the first time in his life, he cares about someone as much as himself, hell, much more than himself, which is also pretty fucking scary.

Sam Awake

Jake's asleep and Sam has been just raised on one elbow for half an hour just looking at him sleep, how his lips turn upwards, how his long lashes flutter when he starts to dream and Sam has started to realise this is just a dream too. Him and Jake a dream. Jake his brother, his scheming little shit of a brother who he hasn't trusted since he was like six years old, good old charming, lovable, adorable Jake who screws everyone over and like they really don't mind cos he does it with such style and grace, some even come back for more, well not me Jake boy, not this fucking sucker and Sam moves from the weight from his elbow and sits at the foot of the bed, naked. Sam starts to put it all together.
Like Jake springs me from hospital, why, why would he do that, he's never ever, ever done anything to help me in anyway before, then the cottage and those locals there to what? was it just a beating or was it meant to be something else and the gun left, the phone call to Dad, the murder and suicide, running so there where no questions to face and now it's just Jake and me here, that's it, no one knows where we are, I don't even know where I am all I know is Jake's in charge, like always.