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Subject: The Hunters, chapter 8 The Hunters – Chapter 8 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction which features sexual activity between teenage boys, as well as between teenage boys and adults. If you do not want to read such a story, or it is illegal for you to do so because of your age or where you live, then I recommend you go read something else instead. Feedback is very welcome. So, if you are enjoying this story, please do drop me an email at hoo If you can, please support Nifty with a financial donation – whatever you can afford – so that this archive of stories can remain free and available. Just go to http://donate./ *** Six o’clock, Sunday morning. Will sat on a window ledge in his bedroom, staring down at the quad below. The window was half open, allowing the smoke from his cigarette to escape. Students were not permitted to smoke in their rooms, but Will found the habit soothing and on this particular morning he was in need of as much soothing as possible. He still hadn’t spoken to Josh; just received a couple more cheerful texts that didn’t really say anything. Somehow, Josh had managed to evade him over the past two weeks since their argument. This was partly due to the fact that, since the start of their A Levels, the brothers had no classes together. Will knew something was wrong, and, as if to confirm it, Olivia was coming over that afternoon to ‘talk about something important’. When he had pressed her on what that something was, she would only say that there was nothing to worry about and that she loved him very much; two assurances that made him worry all the more. He lit another cigarette, his sense of foreboding growing stronger with every drag. *** Lunchtime. Jennifer and Timothy attended Stephen and Brandon’s drinks party. It was a sunny, though somewhat chilly, late November day. Some of the guests were in the conservatory while others stood admiring the redecorated living room. “I love what you’ve done,” Jennifer told Brandon when her host came to greet her. “I’m so glad you like it. You have the best taste of anyone I know.” Brandon glanced anxiously about him. “Do you think the party’s going well?” “Very well. You’re a marvellous host.” Jennifer noticed Stephen standing across the room, talking to a group of men. “How are things with you two?” “No better. Can we meet for lunch this week?” “Of course. Are you free on Tuesday?” “No, I’m sorry, I’m meant to be trimming Frank and Julia’s hedge. I could make Wednesday, though.” “Then Wednesday it is.” As he thought about Stephen, Brandon’s mind cast itself back to the moment the two of them met, some fifteen months before. *** August 2016, Manchester city centre. It was a warm evening. Brandon had just woken up. Since his father had kicked him out of his house five weeks previously, the teenager had become distinctly nocturnal. The man had come home early from work one afternoon to the distinct cry of his son practically screaming: “Oh yes Dan! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” Making his way up the stairs, Brandon’s father had found his son in bed, being railed by one of his classmates. After threatening to cut Dan’s balls off, Mr Price had told his son that he didn’t want a homo living under his roof. Brandon pulled some clothes on, grabbed his wallet and phone, and hadn’t been back since. Within a couple of days of living on the streets, Brandon had realised that what money he had would soon run out. He needed to find a way of making some cash. Luck soon came his way. Standing on a street corner, nursing a bag of chips, a car pulled over. The driver, a man in his forties, asked Brandon how much he charged. Being a little naive, the teenager asked him what he meant. “How much for a blow job?” the man clarified. Brandon quickly realised that this was his best way to make a quick buck. Since then, he had spent every night selling his body to any man who would pay for it. Within a few days of starting his new line of work, he had met a couple of other rent boys, both of whom had been on the game for several months. One of them, a cute blonde named Daryl, had told him that if he wanted to make his life easier, he should place an advert on one of the gay dating apps as a more convenient way of advertising his wares. It was through this app that his first appointment of this particular evening had been arranged. All that he knew about the man he was going to meet was that he was called Stephen – if that was even his real name – that he was 53, and, most importantly, that he was willing to pay for it. After wiping the sleep out of his eyes, Brandon lit a cigarette, taking a long, slow drag on it. As he stood up, he could feel that his arse was still sticky from the previous night’s seeding; five loads total, from three different men. He made himself some coffee with a splash of vodka in it, hoping to numb his senses to the emptiness he felt inside. After finishing his drink, he gave himself a quick wash before pulling on his ripped jeans, tank top and trainers, and filling his pockets with his mobile, a half-filled packet of cigarettes, a flask of whiskey, and a bottle of poppers. On his way to the location he’d agreed to meet Stephen at, he bumped into a few tourists. Without a hint of detection, the teenager picked a couple of wallets up, a skill he had become rather adept at in such a short space of time. He pocketed the cash and headed on to his rendezvous. As Brandon rounded the corner, he laid eyes on his first customer of the night. Of course, he’d seen a photo of Stephen on the app, but it was surprising how many of Brandon’s customers used a fake pic. For his age, the man was reasonable looking: about 5ft 10, salt and pepper hair, green eyes and a suit. Brandon stopped, waiting for his client to make the next move. After a few seconds the man began to walk towards the teenager. As he went past, his wallet fell out of his pocket in front of the youngster. He kept on walking. Brandon picked it up and ran after him. “Oi! Sir, you dropped this!” Brandon said, in his most innocent sounding voice. “What a good lad,” Stephen replied. “Come on, come with me. You deserve a reward for such honesty.” Brandon walked with the man for several hundred metres until they arrived outside a rather posh hotel. “Follow me in and don’t say a word until we’re in the room,” the man cautioned. At the check in desk, Stephen told the receptionist that he had a room booked for himself and `his nephew’. The receptionist looked at the pair rather sceptically before handing over the key. After taking the lift to the 15th Floor, Stephen unlocked their door and indicated for Brandon to walk in first. “So where’s the money?” the teenager asked, once the door was closed safely behind them. “The wallet you dropped for me is empty!” “Of course it was empty. If I dropped it in front of the wrong boy, I’d be out of money.” Stephen reached into his jacket pocket and took out several bank notes. Taking them, Brandon looked them over. After pocketing the money, Brandon brought out his flask and took a drink. “You want some?” he offered the man. “What is it?” “Whisky.” “Sure.” Stephen took a mouth full. The man put his lips on the teenager’s, letting the stinging liquid drip into Brandon’s mouth. The youngster drank it all, sucking the booze off the man’s tongue. “Now, about that reward you offered,” Brandon began. Stephen smiled and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He ran his hands over the youngster’s tank top, rubbing up and down Brandon’s body, eventually taking the garment off. Moving closer, he began to lick the teenager’s stomach and nipples. Brandon tossed his head back, moaning as the man bit hard on the young nubs. The sixteen-year old ran his hands through Stephen’s greying hair, pleased that the man knew what he was doing. Stephen’s tongue began to move up and down the teenage body; starting at the flat tummy and going all the way up to the slim chest. Further still, he began to kiss Brandon’s neck as he held the lad’s arms at his side. The man moved his mouth up the youngster’s neck until eventually their lips collided once more. As they connected, Stephen pushed his long tongue into the teenager’s mouth. Brandon let the man take the lead. Clearly, he knew his way around a boy’s body. `Face it,’ the teenager told himself, `he’s probably never had an easier and hotter boy at his disposal.’ After ending the kiss, Stephen pulled the lad’s jeans down, smiling widely as he realised the teenager wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Naughty boy,” the man said, before taking Brandon’s hard cock in his mouth. His lips wrapped around the teenager’s meat so effortlessly. Brandon put his hands on his hips, tossed his head back, and moaned loudly. “Fuck yeah; yeah… damn, you’re good sir!” Brandon told Stephen as the teenager ran his hand through the man’s hair. As he ran his tongue up and down the teen’s shaft, Stephen’s hands were busy caressing Brandon’s chest and thighs. After five minutes of cock sucking, the man pushed Brandon onto the bed and removed the youngster’s trainers. He began to worship the teenager’s feet, sucking the toes and running his tongue up and down each sole. Stephen licked the sides of each of the lad’s feet. Brandon lay back, propped up by his arms, watching his client enjoying himself. `That’s what this is about,’ Brandon said to himself. `Giving my men what they desire.’ After several more minutes of foot adoration, the man pulled the youngster’s jeans all the way off and pushed Brandon’s legs up in the air. Taking his cue, the teenager bent the limbs so his knees were positioned by his ears. Bending down, Stephen began to lap at Brandon’s well used hole. The tingle of the man’s tongue on the teen’s bare rosebud caused the youngster to purr like a kitten. Urged on by the sound, Stephen continued, feasting on the rent boy’s fuck-hole. To Brandon, the man’s tongue felt wonderful. Stephen licked, sucked and probed the teen’s starfish for several minutes. Eventually, he inserted a finger. Instinctively, Brandon winced. “Does that hurt, son?” Stephen asked. “Not at all, I’m just getting myself ready for more!” the teenager said between gasps. Brandon reached over for his jeans, taking a bottle out of the pocket. He opened the lid and sniffed it, before offering some to the man. “No, I don’t need that to enjoy you, son,” his punter told him. Stephen added a second finger, along with some tongue. He lapped at the lad’s entrance for several minutes, eventually lara kendi evi olan escort adding a third. Brandon tossed his head back, moaning in ecstasy. As the man slowly removed his fingers, Brandon grabbed hold of his hand and pulled it towards his youthful face. Smiling like the proverbial Cheshire cat, the teenager licked Stephen’s fingers clean, sniffing his own arsehole smell and tasting his juice. “You dirty whore,” Stephen chuckled. Slipping off the bed, Brandon fell to his knees. Reaching out, he unzipped the man’s trousers and moved the fly of his underwear to one side. Grasping hold of the large, 8-inch erection, he pulled it out of the opening and smelled it. It was musky. The teenager moaned in anticipation. Soon, he had it in his mouth. Relaxing his throat, Brandon let the cock hit the back of his gullet as his nose ground against Stephen’s pubic hair. The boy took a big sniff, enchanted by the man’s odour. Ever so slowly, Brandon withdrew the prong from his mouth, until it was all the way out. The man groaned in frustration. Only a second later, the teenager went back down on him again, repeating the action over and over, causing Stephen to make the most amazing noises. Sensing the man was getting close, Brandon decided to change things up, this time using short strokes of his hand while moving his mouth a only a few inches, letting Stephen’s cock slip through his wet lips. With his other hand, he tugged on the man’s balls, massaging them between his fingers. Stephen howled. Moving his mouth down, Brandon began to attack Stephen’s scrotum, taking one orb, then the other into his oral cavity. As he did so, the teenager continued to jerk the thick cock. Brandon could feel the man starting to tense up. The rent boy knew this was his cue. Quickly, he moved back to Stephen’s erect penis, taking the head into his mouth, teasing around the tip, his boy lips just touching the bottom of the head. Inside his orifice, Brandon could feel the head get thicker and the cock getting stiffer. The muscles in Stephen’s legs began to tense up. Brandon stared up at the man, noting how red his face had become. The sixteen-year old plunged the man’s prong deep into his mouth, just in time to feel the first stream of hot, salty, creamy jizz shoot out. The boy kept on sucking until he’d milked the cock dry. There were at least six threads of cum, all of which ended up in Brandon’s stomach. Having licked the appendage clean, the teenager worked his way up the man’s body, kissing his client’s navel and biting his nipples. Taking the teenager’s head in his hands, Stephen kissed the boy, thrusting his tongue deep inside the youngster’s mouth and tasting the remnants of his own load. Their tongues were soon wrestling for supremacy; their breathing becoming ragged. Stephen broke off the kiss, locking his eyes with Brandon’s. “You’re a beautiful boy, son,” the man said. “Thanks. So do you want another round? After all, you’ve paid for it.” “What do you think?” the man asked, taking hold of the teenager’s hand and placing it onto his once again hard 8-incher. Brandon grinned. “I want that inside me. I want to feel your cock plunging in and out of my boy-pussy. Make me your bitch!” “Get on your knees, boy,” Stephen ordered as he applied a coating of KY to his own hard tool. As commanded, Brandon climbed on the bed, spread his cheeks apart, and felt the man’s big, thick penis press at his opening. The cold of the lube touched his hole as he opened up and allowed Stephen in. “That’s it, son, let me in.” Stephen slipped in inch by inch. Placing his hands on Brandon’s hips, he pulled the teenager towards him and was soon all the way in. After pausing for a couple of seconds to allow the youngster to catch his breath, Stephen started to pump, thrusting in and out. Brandon could feel it passing his sphincter muscle, moving past his opening, before being plunged back inside. His youthful body tingled with excitement. After several minutes, Stephen shifted positions, laying on his back and telling Brandon to mount him. Bending his smooth pale legs, the teenager got into position, looking forward to bouncing up and down on the fat prong. Brandon began by rocking back and forth, putting his hands on the man’s chest, running his fingers through the hair he found there. After getting used to this new position, the sixteen-year old began to thrust up and down. Stephen placed his hands under the boy’s arse cheeks. Brandon bent forward and began to kiss him. “Oh yes. That feels so good,” Stephen moaned quietly, between kisses. “Fuck yeah. You’ve got an amazing cock,” Brandon said as he continued to ride the man. The teenager trailed kisses down the man’s neck, biting it, sucking on him. Stephen’s hands rubbed the teenager’s chest and back, running all over the youthful skin. Further down he went until he was massaging the youngster’s legs; each hand almost wrapped around the lad’s slim thighs. “Lay on your back sweetie,” the man ordered. Brandon rolled off the man and lay on his back. Taking a pillow, he put it under his hips. Stephen grabbed the teenager’s legs, pushing them up over his head. “Does that hurt, baby?” “No. It hurts that you aren’t in me, though,” the teenager added, with a smile. Stephen aimed his cock at Brandon’s winking starfish and stuck it in. “How’s that, baby?” “Perfect. It felt empty without you.” As he continued to move in and out of the boy, Stephen held on to the youngster’s thighs and began to stroke them. Bending one of Brandon’s legs, he brought the lad’s foot towards his mouth, sucking on the teenager’s toes. Reaching up, Brandon rubbed the man’s tummy. Stephen bent over and kissed the teenager. As he did so, his bottom raised up and down. Brandon’s legs wrapped around the man’s arse. Stephen stuck his tongue into the boy’s mouth. Their tongues duelled for a moment, first inside Brandon’s mouth, then outside of it too. Stephen caressed the teenager’s cheek and kissed it. “Oh god. You’re incredible, baby!” His pace picked up, as he pummelled Brandon’s hole. The teenager could feel the man’s cock swell inside of him. “Oh yes, give it to me!” Brandon cried out. Stephen’s body tensed up as he let loose inside of the teenager. Stream after stream of cum shot out, coating the walls of the boy’s love-tunnel. Less than a second later, Brandon unloaded too, streamers of teenage jizz splashing onto the youngster’s chest and abdomen. Completely spent, Stephen collapsed on top of the teenager, the boy’s sticky cream mashing between their sweaty bodies. For several minutes the man held Brandon in his arms. “Right, I best get going,” Brandon said, eventually. “Other clients to meet.” “Oh, okay,” the man said, sounding disappointed. “Can I see you again?” “Sure. Just hit me up on the app again.” With that, the teenager got dressed, took his money, and headed out to meet his next punter. *** November 2017, Stephen and Brandon’s drinks party. That was over a year ago. After a few more hook-ups, Stephen had persuaded Brandon to move in with him. Since then, their sex life had nosed dived. Brandon sighed as he thought about the change in their relationship. When the man had been paying for it, the sex had been exhilarating, wild, frantic. Now it was monotonous, dull, boring even. It lacked the excitement, the risk, the general illicitness that their first few encounters had. A waiter appeared, offering top-ups, breaking Brandon out of his daydream. The young man took a glass. Jennifer however declined. Angela was coming over that afternoon to talk to her and Timothy about ‘something important’. She hoped it wasn’t to ask for a loan. Though she would be happy to help out, Timothy had strong views on the subject of scrounging relatives. “So how was the Peak District?” Brandon asked. “Lovely. We were staying with Guy Holder and his wife. Guy was at Oxford with Timothy.” Actually, it had been a difficult stay. Guy, although semi-retired, owned a construction company and had been constantly on the phone to contractors, a habit Timothy labelled showboating and none too subtly either. The atmosphere was decidedly frosty by the end of their visit and Timothy had spent the whole of the drive home ranting about `jumped up builders’ while hooting every driver who dared to cross his path. Not that anyone would guess it now. He had just joined Stephen’s group, shaking hands, slapping backs, and radiating bonhomie. “Tim seems to be enjoying himself,” Brandon observed. “Yes. He’s always enjoyed a good party.” “Unlike Stephen. God, he looks bored. Even though this shindig was his idea, I know I’ll get it in the neck this evening for having subjected him to it.” Brandon shook his head. “You’re so lucky, having someone like Tim.” She nodded. Lorraine Mayer, an attractive woman of about 40, had joined Stephen’s group and was laughing at one of Timothy’s jokes. He was smiling at her, his manner warm and charming. Lorraine said something and it was Timothy’s turn to laugh, giving her a conspiratorial wink as he did so. `Is she the one?’ Jennifer wondered. `Is it someone else here?’ She scanned the room, suddenly seeing every woman as a potential threat, while an oblivious Brandon kept prattling on about how lucky she was. *** Half an hour later, Brandon stood in the conservatory, listening to Lorraine Mayer praise his hosting skills. “Calvin and I are having a party next month and we’ll really need to up our game to match this.” Lorraine’s tone was smug, suggesting she didn’t consider it a challenge at all. Brandon smiled politely, wondering if Lorraine would be quite so smug if she knew that Brandon had slept with her husband. Lorraine began talking about her children. While feigning interest, Brandon noticed Calvin Mayer testing wistful glances in his direction. Their affair had only lasted six weeks but Calvin had pestered him for months afterwards, even offering to leave his wife so the two of them `could be happy together’. Brandon had put on a fine display of regret while laughing inwardly at the man’s arrogance in assuming that anyone so dreary could ever be the answer to his prayers. But there it was, Brandon considered. Calvin was a repressed, middle-aged man and all such men were fools to be used and discarded, their only functions to pay the bills, flatter the ego and help keep tedium at bay. All except one. *** The longer the meeting went on, the more Mike knew he had made lara otele gelen escort a mistake. He and his family sat with Jon in the garden of his parents’ pub. Now that the lunchtime rush was over, they could all relax and get to know each other. That, at least, had been the plan. “So how does this part of the world compare to Newcastle?” Mike’s mother asked Jon. “Oh, I much prefer being back here.” “It must have been hard, though,” Mike’s father suggested. “All the moving around you’ve had to do.” “Yeah, I guess.” “And anyway,” Mike’s sister Lauren added with a smile. “There is one particular advantage to living here.” Jon looked blank. “I mean Mike.” Lauren laughed. “At least I’m assuming that’s a good thing.” “Oh, yeah. Definitely. I’m a lucky guy.” The words were spoken as if they had been learned by rote. Mike felt himself blush whilst Jon, oblivious, sipped his coke and stared distractedly into space. Mike’s parents asked Jon about college. As he answered, he fiddled with a serviette, tearing it into strips, radiating nervous energy like heat. Mike nudged his boyfriend’s hand while noticing his parents exchange the briefest of looks. `They think he doesn’t want to be here,’ Mike began to worry. And Jon didn’t. That was the awful thing. Mike’s father began to talk about football. His two nephews joined in, listing their favourite players. At last, Jon rose to the occasion, telling them about the players he had idolised when he was younger. “I loved football at school. It was my favourite subject.” “Football isn’t a subject,” one of Mike’s nephews announced. “Isn’t it? Well, that probably explains why I did so badly.” Everyone laughed. Briefly the mood eased. “We’ve got a football,” his other nephew said. “It’s in the car.” “Which is where it’s staying,” Mike’s brother in law Rob said firmly. “Dad!” “We are not here to play. We are here to meet Uncle Mike’s boyfriend.” “But it’s boring!” “Caleb!” Lauren exclaimed. “That’s very rude.” “Why? Jon’s bored too.” Mike’s heart sank. Yet again his parents exchanged a look. “I’m not at all,” Jon said quickly. “It’s lovely to meet you all and the lunch was delicious.” “Well, you’re very welcome,” Mike’s mother said. Mike hoped it was true. That Jon’s relationship with his parents wasn’t over before it had even begun. His nephews, clearly restless, jostled each other. “I’ve got an idea,” Jon told them. “Let’s have a kick around on the green.” “Can we, Dad? Can we?” Rob groaned. “Go on,” Jon urged. “You and me against Messi and Ronaldo.” The four of them headed off to the car; Mike’s nephews arguing over who was going to be Ronaldo. “That was nice of Jon,” his mother said. “He’s a nice lad.” “I’m sure he is.” “He is. He must be if he’s willing to put up with me.” He waited in vain for laughter. “He’s just… not himself right now. His grandmother’s death hit him hard.” One of the barmaids came to report a customer complaint. Mike’s parents went to sort it out. Lauren remained where she was. “Okay, Mike, cut the act. I can see you’re in a state. What’s going on?” Though he and Jon had agreed to keep Josh a secret for now, the need to unburden himself was too great. Lauren sat in silence, her eyes growing ever wider as the story unfolded. “I want to be happy for him,” Mike said eventually. “But I’m scared. He’s so excited and we’ve no idea what his new family are like. They might not want to know him and he’ll be so hurt and I’ve tried to warn him but he just won’t listen.” “So what’s Josh like?” “I haven’t met him. I hate him, but I haven’t even met him.” “Why do you hate him?” “Because he makes me feel like I don’t exist. He’s all Jon talks about, all he thinks about. God, I must sound like such a bastard. I don’t want to be but I can’t help it. That’s why I organised this meeting today. I wanted to remind Jon that we’ve got something special. And we do. He’s the one. He really is. I’ve only just found him and now it’s like he’s being taken away from me.” “Well, he’s not.” Lauren rubbed his arm affectionately. “If anything, you’re even more important to him now. He needs someone to keep his feet on the ground.” “But what if he ends up hating me for doing it?” “He won’t. Not in the long run. If this does go tits up then at least you’ll be there to pick up the pieces.” “I want it to work. He deserves it. He really is a great lad. I know I keep saying it but it’s the truth.” “You don’t need to convince me. The fact you think the world of him tells me all I need to know.” “Thanks.” Lauren hugged him. As he hugged back he looked over his sister’s shoulder at his nephews bouncing around Jon like excited rabbits. Both clearly adored him. With the unclouded view of childhood they could see what a wonderful person he was. `Let his new family see it too,’ Mike silently prayed. `Let them welcome him with open arms… just don’t let me be discarded in the process.’ *** “Why are you doing this?” Jennifer demanded. “You’re my sister. I thought you loved me.” “I do,” Angela insisted. “And this is how you show it? Coming into my home and telling lies?” “They’re not lies.” “Of course they are. They have to be!” Angela sat at the kitchen table watching her sister and brother-in-law. Jennifer paced up and down the room while an ashen-faced Timothy stood in a corner smoking a cigar and saying nothing. “So he looks like Joshua,” Jennifer continued. “It doesn’t prove anything.” “Jen, look at the picture.” Angela gestured to the one photograph Jennifer hadn’t thrown on the floor. “This isn’t just a passing resemblance. They’re identical.” “How do you know? You haven’t even seen him.” “But Josh and Olivia have. If you don’t believe me then speak to them.” “Oh, don’t worry. We will,” Timothy said. “It must just be a coincidence. Don’t you think so Tim?” Jennifer said, seeking assurance from her husband. “Jen, only three boys were born in the ward that day,” Angela told her. “Jonathan was one and Josh and Will were the others. This can’t be a coincidence. You know it can’t.” “The only thing I know is that William is my son,” Jennifer replied. “He still is!” her sister assured her. “That doesn’t have to change. Not if you don’t let it.” “You’re not listening! He’s mine biologically. Do you think I wouldn’t know if he wasn’t? What sort of mother do you think I am?” Not wanting to make the situation worse, Angela chose not to answer. “Will looks just like me,” Jennifer added. “Everyone says so.” “But that’s what you say to parents,” Timothy interjected. “It’s like paying a compliment. You don’t necessarily mean it. You say it to be nice.” “He does look like me!” Timothy walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Jen. I’ve never really noticed it before, but the likeness between the two of you is fairly superficial.” Jennifer brushed him off. “How can you believe her? For god’s sake, you’ve never even liked her!” Angela let the insult go. It wasn’t anything she didn’t know already. Instead she continued to watch Jennifer pace. “I’m not saying I believe her. But the evidence seems strikingly conclusive. Josh and this Jonathan boy look like mirror images of each other. I don’t want to believe it either, but I can’t see what other explanation there could be.” “Jen, come and sit down,” Angela said eventually. “Don’t tell me what to do! You must be loving this. You’ve always been jealous of me.” Again Angela let it go. Bending down, she picked up the other photographs. “Leave those alone! He’s a conman. This is all a con and you’re stupid enough to have fallen for it.” “He’s not a conman. He’s sixteen for goodness sake.” “So?” “And it wasn’t him who found us. Liv found him.” “Well, how convenient. You and she probably planned this to get back at me.” “Oh, Jen, come on…” “To get back at me because I’ve got everything you want. A wonderful husband, two successful sons and a beautiful home, while all you could manage was a daughter who’s grown up to be as big a disappointment as her father was.” Angela’s self-restraint vanished. “So what are you saying?” she demanded. “That I’ve failed as a mother?” “Well, if the cap fits.” “Then what does that make you, Jen? Because at least I managed to recognise my own child, which is more than you did.” “William is my child!” “No, he’s not. You gave birth to identical twins and took home someone else’s baby instead of one of them. That’s the truth.” “Don’t talk to my wife like that,” Timothy told her. “It’s not true!” Jennifer shrieked. “The DNA test will prove it.” “DNA test?” Angela questioned. “You’re not serious?” “Of course we are,” Timothy interjected. “That will confirm it one way or the other.” “What are you afraid of Angela?” Jennifer asked. “Or is this just a scam you and Olivia have cooked up to try and get money out of us? You talk about the truth, well there it is!” “Very well, Jen. And while we’re on the subject of the truth then answer me this. Would you be talking about imposters and DNA tests if Jon was identical to Will?” Jennifer stared of her. “What do you mean?” “You know exactly what I mean. Will has always been your favourite. It makes me sick the way you’ve always favoured him over Josh, and the real truth is that if I was sitting here telling you that Josh wasn’t your biological son you’d be popping open the champagne and dancing on the table.” As soon as the words were spoken, Angela would have given ten years of her life to take them back. Jennifer looked as if she had been shot, while Timothy just stared reproachfully at her. “Below the belt, Angela,” he said softly. “Well below.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Jen, really I didn’t…” Jennifer was no longer listening. Instead, she just collapsed into a chair, buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Angela tried to put her arms around her but was pushed away. She tried again, this time successfully. “Jen, listen to me. This doesn’t have to be the end of the world. William will always be your son. No one can take your place in his life. You’re the only mother he’s ever known and the woman who gave birth to him died long ago. In fact he’s going to need you now more than ever to help him get through this.” “But he is mine.” “That’s right. In every way that counts he still is. You’re not losing a son. You’re gaining another.” “I don’t want another. I just want…” “But you’ll like Jonathan. I know you will…” lara rus escort Timothy was shaking his head at her. She stopped, knowing he was right. Now was not the time. She wondered if the time would ever come. For Jonathan’s sake she hoped so. Jennifer continued to sob. Angela stroked her hair, whispering soothing words while across the room Timothy smoked his cigar and mulled the situation over. *** Early evening. Will sat on the sofa in his room, flanked by Olivia and Zach, staring at the photographs spread out on the floor in front of them. He kept thinking how much Josh had let himself go, only it wasn’t Josh he was staring at. “There is absolutely no doubt,” Olivia was saying. “Jonathan is Josh’s twin.” Will nodded, wanting to speak but unable to do so. His head was spinning so fast he felt as if he were drugged. Olivia squeezed his hand. “But the one thing you must believe is that this doesn’t change anything. Not for Mum or me.” He found his voice. “What about Josh?” “You’re still his brother.” “No, I’m not.” “You may not have shared a womb, but anyone can see the bond between you. You’re closer than any brothers I know. Think of all you’ve through together, like that year when you started here and Josh was bullied so badly. I remember him telling me he’d never have survived it if it hadn’t been for you. You’re the most important person in his life. You know that, don’t you?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he found himself thinking back to that year, when he and Josh had been nine. He had settled in quickly; making friends and enjoying life while Josh, suffering terribly from homesickness, had clung to him like a shadow. Eventually, in an attempt to help Josh adapt, the headmaster had separated them, placing them in different classes and Houses and endeavouring to restrict their interaction as much as possible. But it hadn’t worked. In fact, it only made matters worse. Josh started wetting his bed, becoming the number one target for every bully in the school. Once Will stumbled across a jeering gang who had cornered his brother in one of the changing rooms and flew to his defence, leaping on the ringleader and pounding his face, eventually having to be dragged off by a teacher while the rest of the gang backed warily away and Josh just stared at him with eyes full of gratitude. Will could smell the room now: the floor polish, dirty clothes and sweat. He could hear the jeers too. Only they weren’t jeering at Josh any more. Now they were jeering at him for spending his whole life believing he was someone he was not. Emotion overwhelmed him. He started to cry. Olivia put on arm around him. “Oh, Will…” “I’m not Will. I’m Jonathan Wilson. That’s the name I should have.” “But you don’t have it. You’re William Hunter, son of Timothy and Jennifer and twin brother of Joshua. This doesn’t change who you are. Nothing can do that.” “That’s right,” Zach agreed. “You’re not defined by your name.” Will shook his head. “It’s more than just a name. It’s a whole life. Jonathan should have had mine and I should’ve had his.” “You can’t look at it like that,” Olivia told him. “How else am I supposed to look at it? It’s all been a lie. My parents aren’t my parents. My twin isn’t even my brother.” “Their love for you isn’t a lie.” “Bullshit! They only love me because they think I’m someone else. If Jonathan had grown up with them they’d have loved him instead.” “But not like they love you,” Zach said. “How could they?” The raven-haired teen gestured towards the photographs. “He’s an overweight scrounger without any decent qualifications to his name. Not much to write home about, is it?” Olivia frowned. “Be fair, Zach. He hasn’t had an easy life.” “I am being fair. Will would have been a success no matter what sort of upbringing he’d had. He’s a winner and this Jonathan’s not. It’s as simple as that.” “Don’t start kicking Jonathan. He’s as much a victim as Will.” “Will is not a victim. Only a weakling allows himself to be that.” “Jonathan’s not a weakling.” “Oh, please! And why are you sticking up for him? You told Will this didn’t make any difference.” “It doesn’t!” “You could have fooled me. Well, I suppose Jonathan is your cousin.” “Will is my cousin. Anyway, this is a family matter and you’re not family Zach, so why not do us all a favour and fuck off.” “Don’t start fighting,” Will told them. “Not now, please.” “I’m sorry,” Olivia said, kissing his cheek. “Apology accepted,” Zach said. “I wasn’t apologising to you…” “Enough! Christ almighty, I really don’t need this at the moment.” Will exhaled. “Zach, do me a favour and open a bottle of wine. I could use a drink.” Zach walked over to Will’s desk. Olivia remained where she was. “I’m so sorry, Will. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling but as I said before, this doesn’t make any difference. Not to me.” “What about Mum and Dad? What difference will it make to them?” “None. You know it won’t.” “No, I don’t. Just like I don’t know what difference it will make to Josh. He and Jonathan aren’t just twins. They’re identical. It’s the most powerful bond in the world. I heard someone describe it as two bodies with a single soul. What chance have I got against that?” Olivia didn’t answer. Across the room, Will heard Zach pouring the wine. He willed his boyfriend to hurry up. He needed a drink more than ever. His mobile rang. Olivia told him to ignore it but he couldn’t. He knew it would be his mother, or the woman he had always thought was his mother. She was in tears, telling him that it was all lies, and that even if it wasn’t it didn’t matter. “Jonathan will never mean anything to me. You’re my son and you always will be. Nothing on earth can change that.” “Yeah, I know.” He swallowed. “I love you, Mum.” “I love you too, Will, and do you know why? Because you’re mine! We’re going to get through this and everything will be fine. You know that, don’t you?” He told her that he did. He told himself that he meant it. But in his heart he knew that things would never be fine again. *** As he uncorked the wine, Zach listened to Will speaking to his mother. The raven-haired teen filled a glass then drained it in a single gulp, a secret toast to the triumph he felt but could never express. He had had high hopes for this meeting, had prayed that whatever it was that Olivia had to tell them would help weaken the bond between Will and Josh. But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a blow as lethal as this. Olivia was insisting that nothing would change but she was wrong. Things had changed already. Will belonged to him now. And Zach was going to keep him. Zach returned to the sofa, carrying wine for all of them. Olivia glared at him. Lowering his eyes, Zach apologised for his earlier comments, saying he had only been trying to spare Will’s feelings. He even managed to sound sincere. Will came back over to the sofa. Olivia went to hug him. Zach did the same, speaking words of comfort and keeping his triumph hidden. *** Half past 10. Jon was talking to Josh on his phone. “So how did they take it?” Jon asked. “They were shocked, but that was to be expected.” “Yes, of course.” “But you mustn’t worry. They’ll deal with it. And when they meet you they’ll love you. I’ll make sure of it.” “Thanks.” “No problem. We’re twins. That’s my job.” “Thanks,” Jon said again. “I feel bad about Will, though,” Josh said. “I know it’s not my fault, but I still do.” Irritation swept through Jon. Will didn’t matter. He was the twin now. “That’s right,” he said quickly. “It’s not your fault.” “Why don’t we meet up one evening this week?” Josh suggested. “Which is good for you?” “All of them. Take your pick. I’ll ask Mike if he can drive me up to you.” As he spoke he smiled at his boyfriend as the man watched him from across the room. Mike smiled back. The call ended. “So, Tuesday it is,” Jon told his boyfriend. “Is that okay for you?” Mike nodded. “Thanks for including me.” “Of course I’m including you. You’ve included me with your family.” Another nod. The look in Mike’s eyes spoke volumes. “I’m sorry about this afternoon,” Jon said. “Don’t be. My nephews adored you.” “What about everyone else?” “They did too.” His tone was neutral. Jon sensed his boyfriend was lying, yet realised he didn’t care. But that wasn’t true. He did care. Or at least he wanted to. “You’ll like Josh,” Jon said. “I’m sure you will.” “Yes,” Mike replied softly. “I’m sure I will.” *** Midnight. Jennifer sat at her kitchen table, staring at a photograph of Jonathan. He stared back, a stranger whose face she knew as well as that of her own son. Timothy appeared in the doorway, holding a drink. “It’s not true,” she told him. “I’m not so sure. What if your sister’s right? What if there really was a mix up?” “William is our son. I know he is.” “How do you know?” She didn’t answer. There was no point. She wasn’t fooling either of them. “How could you not have realised?” he asked. “You were their mother.” “I could ask you the same question.” “I didn’t give birth to them. I didn’t carry them inside me for nine months. Christ, I wasn’t even there when they were born!” She gave a hollow laugh. “Starting as you meant to go on,” she retorted, immediately regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. The look on Timothy’s face told her she’d pushed him too far. `After all these years, I should know better than that,’ she told herself. “I was earning money. I was doing my job. Your job was being their mother. It’s the only job you’ve ever really had and you royally fucked it up!” “You can’t blame this on me. I was ill. It was the nurses who mixed them up. How was I to know what had happened?” “Because you should have done, that’s why,” he said, the alcohol causing the words he’d kept inside for so many years to start spilling out. “From the moment they were born the boys have been your whole life.” A snort. “Or, at least one of them has. And that’s the irony, isn’t it? You’ve spent the last sixteen years telling everyone you’re the perfect mother while pouring all your love and devotion onto a child who wasn’t even yours.” It was his turn to laugh. “Karma really is a bitch.” She opened her mouth to protest. He walked away, leaving her alone. The photograph of Jonathan was still in her hand. Timothy’s lighter lay on the table. She opened it up, summoning its flame. For a moment, she just let it flicker. Then, holding it to the photograph, she watched it eat away the face. *** Note from the author: If you enjoyed this story, you might also want to check out my first story `Tutoring Dylan’ which can be found fty//gay/adult-youth/tutoring-dylan/ Please note that my email address is different to the one mentioned in Tutoring Dylan, so you can now contact me at hoo 17

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