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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Box - 15. Chapter 15

October 15, 1942

I got a letter from Aaron today! I’ve read it and re-read it a million times, even though it’s only a page long. It’s so good to have some contact with him, to know that he’s alright and he’s doing well. He says they’re working his ass off, and that they didn’t let him write home for the first month because they’re trying to ‘break them down’. He says it’s all part of this whole Marine Corps indoctrination, where they tear you completely down as a civilian, then rebuild you as a marine. I’m not sure that I like the sound of that. I’m not sure that going into the Marines is my thing. Fortunately I have a few months left before I have to decide on that.

His letter was nice, but it kind of bothers me too. I feel really bad, writing that down here, because it makes me feel disloyal, like I’m not a good friend. Then again, this is my diary, and no one’s going to read it, so I might as well pour out my thoughts and feelings.

He seems different. He didn’t really write much, but there’s something there, something about his tone, that is more confident, with greater conviction than ever. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, it’s just different. There was none of his playful cockiness in his letter, none of his almost flirtatious sense of humor. I know they censor all the letters, and I know he can’t write and tell me that he loves me. It’s not that. It’s just that he seems different.

I started thinking about that and what it means, and what it means is that we’re growing apart. I wonder if he’ll still want to run away to New York and live together after the war. Maybe he’ll meet a fellow marine and fall in love with that guy and out of love with me. The thought of that rips me to my core, and I feel the little green monster rising up, the jealousy threatening to overwhelm me, but I know it may just happen and I know there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Maybe if I’d joined with him, and we were going through this together, we’d be even closer instead of growing apart? Maybe this is all my fault for not being there with him? Then again, I made the deal with my parents, and I have to stick with it. It’s how things have to be.

And that’s not the only thing bothering me. I make it sound like the changes have all been on his part, that he’s gone away and he’s different while I’ve stayed the same. And I know that’s not true either. I’ve been lying here on my bed, trying to decide what it would be like if Aaron came back and said he was going to finish up school. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be thrilled, but it would be weird.

In the past three weeks, I feel like everything has changed. I was kind of out there, floundering around, lonely and miserable. Now slowly, piece by piece, I’ve started to rebuild my life without Aaron in it. It’s been tough, but I’m getting there. The most important part of that equation is my friends. I’ve always been linked to Aaron; we’ve always been a pair, even when we were little kids. That meant that all the friends I had were just acquaintances, no one I could really get close to, or no one I really wanted to get close to. I’m finding that I can do that, that I can have more than one friend, and that’s made me a lot more popular at school. I wonder if I was like that, where I only had one really good friend, because that’s how I was, or if I was like that because of Aaron. I’m wondering if he’s the kind of guy that just has one friend who means everything to him, and since that was me, I kind of turned into that kind of person too.

Then the jealousy returned. If he were that kind of guy, that’d mean that with me not there, he’d have to find a new friend, a new guy to latch on to. Maybe even a new guy to fall in love with. He didn’t mention any of his fellow marines by name in his letter, but he sounded pretty content there. Could he be content and be alone? I’m thinking it’s unlikely.

And of course all of this would be less complicated if I weren’t really attracted to his younger brother. If I went back and picked the day that my life started to come back together, it was probably that drunken afternoon with Jim, where we sat by the river. After that, he’d gone out with Nathan and me on the following Saturday night and we’d all had a really good time. Those two, Nathan and Jim, formed my core group, but it wasn’t like it was with Aaron. There were a lot of other guys that hung around us too. It’s just that I spent the most time with them, and Jim even spent the night a couple of times.

I’ve invited Nathan to stay over a few times, but he always says he can’t. At first, I just took that in stride, figuring that he liked to be in his own house. I mean, Aaron damn near lived over here and his parents didn’t care, so I know it’s not them. The thing that has me really worried is that maybe he saw me watching him that day by the pool, and that he realized I was checking him out, so now he’s going to keep his distance from me so I don’t try and do faggy things to him. Then again, if he were really worried about that, he wouldn’t goof around with me so much.

It’s funny how the two of them, Nathan and Jim, bring out totally different sides of me. Nathan is calm and subtle, and carries a certain serenity with him. He makes me feel calm and relaxed, until I think about him naked, then I get anything but calm. Jim isn’t like that at all. Jim is outgoing and gregarious, the guy who always looks for a party, and if there isn’t one, he makes one. He keeps us out and social. When I’m with Nathan, we talk about stuff, but it’s not too deep. I’m not sure why, we just don’t go there. When I’m around Jim, we talk about dolls. Man, that boy has a libido.

Aaron says that they’ll give him some leave, although probably not much, when he’s done with boot camp. I know that when I see him, I’ll realize how much I miss him and how much I love him, but right now, it’s easier not to think about him too much.

December 27, 1942

Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything in here. I guess I only go here and write shit down when I’m feeling blue, like today. So much has been happening, I feel like I’m on a carnival ride and I can’t get off. It’s hard to believe that it was only a year ago that we got into this war. Since then, things have really started to turn around. In the Pacific, we won the Battle for Guadalcanal, so we’ve started our offensive there. In Europe, we landed troops in North Africa to try and chase Rommel out. Apparently they negotiated some deal with the Vichy French in Algiers and that pissed the Germans off, so they took over Vichy France too. The French fleet was in Toulon, and when the Germans came marching in, the French sank their own ships. That must have been really weird.

Aaron was home for a week. You’d think I’d be excited about that, you’d think I’d be bouncing off the walls that he was here and now be really devastated that he’s not. I guess there’s some of that, but it was really strange. When he first got back, it was all I could do to keep my hands off of him. It seemed like an eternity before I could bring him up to my room and fuck him. He really has changed, both physically and mentally. Physically he’s rock solid. He’s gotten even more muscular than before, and with his buzzed off hair, he looks like a man, like a marine. I felt like a little kid standing next to him.

That’s nothing compared to how he’s changed mentally. Sometimes I wonder if he even remembers how his life was when he was here in Claremont. It seems like he was born when he joined the Marines. He eats, sleeps, and thinks Marines. That’s all he talks about. I’m really proud of how patient I was, how I listened to him tell me how to put together and take apart a rifle about fifty times, and how he rambled on and on about how you storm a beach. I was interested the first few times he told me that stuff, but after that, I just pretended to be interested. I remembered how he told me that they tear you down as a civilian and rebuild you as a marine. They sure had succeeded with Aaron.

I was determined that we wouldn’t fight while he was here, that I’d make him glad to be at home, but it was really hard. The reason for that is Tom Sully. Sully is a guy he went through boot camp with, and he has to mention his name in at least every other sentence. Sully is from Cincinnati, so they are even fellow Ohioans. Sully is a great friend. Sully knows everything. Sully is perfect. And Sully is his new lover.

He wouldn’t admit it to me, but I knew. We fucked a lot while he was home, a lot, and it was good, but not really good like it used to be. The bond was missing. There wasn’t the same connection that I had with him before. Plus he did different things. One night we were fucking, he was plowing into me, and he reached around and pinched my nipples really hard. It fucking hurt like hell. He knows I don’t like that, but he did it anyway, right before he blew his load. And that ripped me to the core, because that’s when I figured out that while he was here fucking me, he was fantasizing that he was fucking Sully. Sully must like to get his nipples pinched really hard. Sully must like it when Aaron pulls completely out of him while fucking him and then slams back in really fast. Sully must like having his ear bitten. Sully may like all those things, but I don’t.

I have a break, now that school is off for Christmas, and he has to take a train to San Diego to report in. I had originally planned to go with him, to make the trip so we could spend some time together, just the two of us, and maybe even splurge on a sleeper compartment. We were talking about when he had to leave, and he was trying to act all sad, but he wasn’t. Then he told me that he was catching the train in Claremont and that when he got to Cincinnati, Sully would catch up with him and they’d get to ride together. I didn’t even bring up my plan after that.

Like an idiot, I’d talked to my parents about it before he’d even come home, and gotten them all on board. They were going to pay for it and everything. My mother, with her big mouth, asks Aaron if he’s excited to have me travel out to California with him. He looked at me, all confused, and I was kind of at a loss to know what to say.

“You planning to ride out to California with me?” he’d asked.

“Well, I’d thought about it, but it’s kind of busy around here, and the trains are pretty full,” I’d said lamely. My mother had watched me, her eyes like rockets shooting through me.

“That’s really nice of you,” he said. “But you’re probably right. Getting train tickets these days is pretty tough.” I glared at my mom, telling her to say nothing, not to mention that we’d already made reservations and everything. But the Aaron who had left in September would have jumped on that, would have been so excited to be with me for that much longer. This Aaron, December Aaron, couldn’t wait to leave me and get back to Sully.

The whole thing just made me numb, like I was after he left in September. He was here, in front of me, but he didn’t love me, he loved Sully. I guess all those thoughts I had about him being with just one person were right. I wasn’t around, so he latched on to someone else. I learned a lot about myself through this whole thing. I learned that I’m not like that. I learned that I don’t have to have just one person in my life, and I learned that I can love someone even if they’re not there in front of me. Aaron can’t do that.

I thought about how I wanted to handle it, how I wanted to deal with him and his new boyfriend. Part of me wanted to rip him up and down, to make him feel as bad as he was making me feel. But I love him, even if he doesn’t love me, and he’s going off to fight. I didn’t want his last memories of me before he went off to war to be of a petulant, bitchy guy. So I played along like I bought into the whole act, like we were still together and as tight as we ever were. I tried to do all the things he liked when we were in bed, to remind him that I was a good lover, but I kept feeling like I wasn’t doing something right. Somehow, those massive raging orgasms didn’t seem to come to either one of us.

But I did it; I repressed all those feelings, and gave him a big man-hug when he went off to fight. I even had genuine tears in my eyes when he left. He was sad to leave, but I could read him like a book, and as sad as he was to leave Claremont, that was nothing compared to how happy he was to see Sully again.

It’s really hard to think that I’m not enough for him, that he found someone better. It makes me worth less, like a bargain basement item. I’m kind of like the Chevy someone has, that they think is so swell, until they can eventually trade up for an Oldsmobile. After the guy has his new Oldsmobile, the Chevy is just a piece of shit.

His timing worked out pretty well, since it was right around Christmas. I was kind of worried about how my friends would handle it if I blew them off to hang out with Aaron, but in the end, that wasn’t a problem either. Now that I wasn’t his number one guy, he didn’t seem to have a problem being around the other guys. So I dragged him along when we went to parties or goofed around, and then we’d usually end up back at our house where we’d fuck. It worked out pretty well for everyone but Nathan.

Nathan acted kind of weird the whole time Aaron was home. I’d invited him to stay over too, but he’d turned me down. The fact that I invited him over should have told both Aaron and me how fucked up our whole relationship was. In the past, there’s no way I would have given up any of our time together. In the end, it didn’t matter; Nathan just said no and headed home. Still, there was this look of sadness in his eyes that I just didn’t get. I guess it must be tough to have your big brother come breezing back into your life only to leave in a week to go off and fight.

January 1, 1943

Holy shit, what have I done now? I’m wondering if I’ve totally fucked up my life, or if I might have made it a whole lot better. We went to a big New Year’s Eve party last night up in the hills, not too far from where Jim lives. Nathan came over and left his car here, so I drove us both up there. The guy who was hosting it, Seamus Boyle, some Irish kid, did a great job. What is it with the Irish and drinking? Whatever it was, I’m glad, really glad. So I started drinking beers and so did Nathan as soon as we got there, and I was really enjoying myself until I ran into Barbie.

We hadn’t really talked since our big blow-up in September. I mean, it’s not like we hated each other. She did that thing for a while, where she pretended to despise me, but eventually that faded and it got to the point where we’d see each other in the hallways and she’d be polite and I would too. Then we had a project in one of our classes and we ended up working on that in a group. That would be pretty unfair to the other people to be jerks, so we worked pretty well together there too. So things had gotten more and more relaxed.

Then, at this party, she came up and was really flirting with me. It was nice. I like her, and I liked being with her. She was hanging around with me, almost clinging to me though, and that started to get old. I could tell it was really starting to piss Nathan off, but I couldn’t seem to get rid of her. What started out as kind of this pleasant thing was becoming pretty annoying. I kept excusing myself to go to the bathroom, and instead of going I’d head off to another room to get away from her. But after I was gone for a while, she’d come looking for me.

We had this big countdown when the New Year approached. Everyone stood around in a circle and counted down the time. As soon as we got to zero, everyone screamed “Happy New Year” and grabbed someone to kiss. Of course Barbie was there, and she planted this major kiss on me. It was a little too passionate for us, since we were just friends, but I went with it. Then I kissed a few other girls, not as passionately, but a kiss is a kiss, and that pissed her off. After that, she grabbed a couple of her friends and stormed out.

It dawned on me that she probably feels about me like I did about Aaron, and that just cuts me to the core, to know that I hurt her like that. The harder thing, though, is I don’t know what to do about it. I mean, I like being her friend, but I don’t want to be her boyfriend again. I don’t want to make that kind of emotional investment. But what am I supposed to do? I guess I’ll have to use the high school rumor chain, and have my friends talk to her friends. I hate that, though. It’s so childish, and plus everyone else gets all involved in my personal life.

That whole thing kind of killed my good mood, and I stopped drinking. When I was sober enough to drive, I went and tracked down Nathan, who was vomiting in the bushes. “You ready to go?” I’d asked him.

“In a minute,” he’d said, and wretched again. I grabbed a bucket from the Boyles’ garage just in case he had to throw up on the way home, and then I helped him into the car. He was so drunk, it was really funny. He could barely walk. “Take care of me, OK?” he kept saying.

I drove down the hill, and kept stealing sideways glances at him. God, he’s cute. He just has such an amazing grin, like Aaron’s but cuter. I think that’s because he’s more subtle. I think it’s because he doesn’t know how cute he really is. Aaron knew he was good looking, so his grin had a kind of cockiness to it. Nathan’s isn’t like that at all.

We got back to my house and he started walking to his car but I stopped him. “No way you’re driving home,” I told him. “You’re staying here.”

He looked really nervous about that, and I didn’t get that at all. “No, I have to get home,” he said, but then he staggered and fell face down on the driveway. I pulled him up and his nose was bloody, so then I had to drag him inside and stuff tissues in it for him.

“You’re staying, got it?” I ordered. This time, he just nodded. I led him upstairs to my room. He’d been here a lot of times, but he seemed nervous now. We got to my room and I closed and locked the door, then turned around to help him take off his clothes.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Taking off your pants and your shirt,” I said.

“I’ll keep them on,” he said.

“Not in my bed. There’s puke all over them.” He’d looked down and saw that, and started laughing. Then he pulled off his shirts and his pants and climbed into my bed. I tried not to look at him, tried not to notice how sexy he is, but it was hard. I pulled my clothes off pretty quickly and jumped into bed with him. We were lying there, side by side, and it was all I could do not to roll over and start making out with him.

He tilted his head sideways to look at me, and I did the same. Our eyes locked, really locked, and it was like a vacuum, pulling me in. “Happy New Year,” he said. And then he kissed me. It wasn’t some peck on the lips, it was a full on, open-mouth, tongue-twisting kiss. Not only that, it was a really good kiss. I moved my body sideways so I could really get into it, and put my hand on the back of his head, urging him on. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, he pulled away and smiled at me sheepishly.

“My breath is pretty bad,” he said.

“I don’t care,” I said, and pulled him back into the kiss. There was a dull growl, one that came from deep within his body, and he pushed me onto my back and landed on top of me. The feel of his muscular body as it pinned me down was sheer heaven. I felt his thick hard cock rubbing against mine as he thrust his hips, pushing them into me. I just wrapped my legs around him and enjoyed the ride. He’d pump hard for a while, then slow down and just kiss me passionately, and then he’d pick up the pace again. Finally, I could take no more.

“I’m gonna cum,” I’d whispered urgently into his ear.

“Yeah, that’s it Steve, blow that load,” he said in his sultry, sexy voice. Then I lost control, just spasming as my orgasm took me on one amazing ride. When I was done, I was almost giddy, I could barely move. He rolled off of me and seemed kind of at a loss as to what to do. He hadn’t blown, but there’s no way he’d be able to sleep without getting off.

I stood up, smiling as he looked worried, and pulled off my boxers, using them to wipe the cum off my body. Then I pulled his off too. There, in front of me, was his big, thick dick. Damn was it thick. I touched it gently and felt it throb, and then I heard him moan at the same time. I knelt beside him and moved my mouth down his chest, flicking his nipples with my tongue, the whole time slowly stroking his dick, not to make him cum, but to keep him keyed up. I kissed my way down his abdomen and looked up at him while I ran my tongue down his treasure trail. Then I got to his cock and licked the head gently. He really moaned at that. I opened my mouth as wide as I could; reminding myself of the time I went to the zoo and saw a snake eating a rat. I managed to open wide enough to take him, then I lowered my mouth down on his cock, really slowly, letting him feel my lips on every inch. I bobbed up and down two, maybe three times, and that’s all it took. He came, practically flooding me, but I swallowed it all, took it like a champ.

I rolled over onto my side after that and I felt him spoon up behind me. “Is this OK?” he’d asked cautiously.

“It’s great,” I said. His strong arms wrapped around me and I felt incredibly safe. His calmness, his serenity seemed to flow right into me. I lay there, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Would he be like Aaron and lose it? That would be sad, really sad, especially since I was really enjoying our group of friends. He seemed to sense my apprehension and he just squeezed me tighter, pulling me into him. I relaxed and just enjoyed the moment.

When I woke up this morning, he was gone and I started to panic. Did he just get up and leave? Where did he go? I was about to really lose it when he came sauntering into my room with a big smile on his face. “Morning,” he said. He was wearing just his boxers, and he looked magnificent.

“Morning,” I told him. “You’re awfully happy for a guy who was puking last night.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t want to test my stomach too much, but I’m not doing too bad,” he said. Then he got kind of nervous.

“You want to sleep some more?” I asked him, raising my eyebrows suggestively.

“Not really, but I’ll get back into bed,” he teased back. He shucked off his boxers and I got my first look at his dick in the daylight. It grew quickly, making me laugh. He laughed with me, and then jumped into bed. Then his lips were on mine, he was on top of me grinding his body into mine, and I surrendered to his moves. I figured it would be like last night, but he broke our lip lock and moved his mouth down my chest like I’d done for him last night. I felt his lips brushing across my chest and my nipples, then down my stomach. I gasped as I felt his mouth envelop my dick. Then he began to really work me, moving up and down with such sensual movements he sent me over the edge. I blasted my load in his mouth, damn near straight down his throat. He looked up at me, licking his lips and smiling. “Good?”

“The best,” I told him honestly, and then returned the favor. After that, he went home and I spent the day at home, hung over. But I was smiling all day long.

 

 

1999

I paused and looked at JP, Brad, and Robbie. Brad looked pensive, and I knew him so well, knew that he was reliving the times when he’d been in those situations with Robbie. How horrible it was not to be able to satisfy the man you’re with, or to know that you’re not the one that really makes him happy. I caught Brad’s eye and winked at him, reminding him that those days were in the past. He smiled back at me.

“Jeff was like that,” JP said, his eyes telling me he was deep in thought.

“Like what?” I asked.

“The serenity. The ability to just be around him and say nothing. He had that same calming way that Nathan seems to have,” JP said. “I remember driving to Chicago with him for the first time. We didn’t really talk much.”

“That must have made the drive pretty boring,” Robbie said.

“No, not at all,” JP said. “It was really calm and peaceful. Almost a zen feeling.” Then he looked at me and his eyes sparkled. “Not like the time before that, when I was saddled with a complete chatterbox.”

I pretended to scowl at him. “I have never been known for keeping my mouth shut.” That got a laugh, which I stopped when I started reading again.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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