The Trials of Dylan

D e s i r e

"THEY'RE HERE!" MAXINE cheered then skipped from the bay window to her front door.

Dylan did a final check of the munchies and beer. The private party had been Maxine's idea. "Just the cream of the crop," she promised.

"My heroes!" Maxine swung the door wide, and the team stars strutted in.

"I can't believe we made the regional championships," Nathan said.

The sound of his brother's grownup voice surprised Dylan. Somehow it had never entered his head that Ethan would be there.

"Well," Maxine smiled. "It sure took you long enough."

"Ah..." Nathan began, glancing around while the other jocks attacked the grub. "I wanted to thank your parents for the party."

"You'll have to telephone them. They're out of town."

"Well, then let me thank you. And I want to thank all your cheerleaders."

"There's just the two of us."

"Oh... Well, we couldn't have done it without you."

Everyone hoisted a beer can at that and let out a hoorah.

"And I'd especially like to thank you," Nathan said, coming over to his big brother. "Only I don't know your name."

"Marilyn," Maxine cut in smoothly. "She's a good friend from upstate. She came down just to help you guys win."

"Marylyn. Figures. How'd they know?" he asked Dylan.

"What?"

"Your parents. How'd they know you'd be that beautiful."

Dylan froze, trapped in the twin high beams of Nathan's mahogany eyes.

"Usually," Maxine advised. "When a gentleman complements a lady she says, 'Thank you.'"

"Thank you?"

"You're very welcome."

"Now, RHS Warriors," Maxine grinned, cranking up the music. "Let's party!"

⁂
"GENTLEMEN," MAXINE SLURRED after the beer was gone and half a fifth of Tequila liberated from her dad's liquor cabinet. "It's time for your reward."

"And what might that be?" Nathan chuckled.

"I'm going go up to my parent's room. And Marylyn, she's going to go up to my room. Then one at a time—I don't care if you guys pick straws or arm wrestle—you pick a girl to give you your big surprise."

"Not as big as my surprise, I'm sure," muttered one of the lobotomized jocks.

"I'll be the judge of that." Maxine linked her elbow with Dylan's, escorted him up the stairs and opened her bedroom door for him.

"But," Dylan stalled. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I suppose you'll just have to get down on your knees and pray for inspiration." Then she placed her hand on his bum and propelled him toward her four-poster bed.

⁂
Five athletes later Dylan sat on the edge of the bed plump and sassy, if a little lockjawed. Randy was ancient history.

'How could I have squandered my charms on that infant?'

Then came a shy knock at the bedroom door.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

"Sure, Nathan."

His younger brother poked his head in, smiled a sheepish grin, and stepped into the girlish room.

"Seems they saved the best for last," Dylan smiled.

"Actually, you'll be my first."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Look, I know you're a lot more grown up than me but why don't you give a kid a break?"

As his answer Dylan patted the satin pink bedspread next to him.

Nathan sat close his body touching his brother's, snaked his arm round his waist, and whispered, "You are the perfect woman."

"Am I?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

"Just hold me." Dylan nestled his nape on his brother's broad shoulder and scented the heady male musk that was no longer his own. It made him muzzy and wanting.

Then Nathan began to sweetly kiss his shoulder, rambling his way up his neck onto the lobe of his ear.

Dylan's flesh burned exactly as it had that first time he'd been with Randy— only better— this trespass being doubly taboo.

"Lay back," Dylan cooed. "We've both waited a long time for this." When his brother did, he drew down the boy's fly, reached in and freed his erection.

It was nothing like Dylan's.

'Mine is a promise broken. The promise of manhood— my pledge to mom and dad of someday having a wife and kids of my own. A dream that I wagered and lost. My mother—my father—even my brother are all strangers to me now. And I have nothing to blame but my stupid pride.'

Dylan wanted Nathan like dark wanted light. He pulled the head of the stiff cock into his selfish mouth, staining the other boy's khakis with his slobber.

"Yes." Nathan's eyes crisscrossed in his own craving.

Dylan sank his brother shaft into his mouth then waddled his head about, saving it silkiness and swell.

Then he ran his grip up and down the slippery shank, bringing his brother to the verge of eruption.

"Not yet," Nathan murmured drenched and fiery in his indolence.

Dylan dipped the nip of his tongue into the peep of the cock's crown seeking out the pearly liqueur entombed within.

The boy beneath him shuddered his erection taunt and ruddy.

The boy above pursed his lips round its crest and tenderly suckled.

With each throb and pulse the shimmering wealth within lacquered Dylan's tongue, a lush and vibrant stain on white canvas.

Dylan let it loll upon the rasp of his tongue until the throb and jerk of the cock was spent. Only then did he let the seed slip down his throat— shamed to have such gold join the brass of the ones that came before.

"Remember me," Dylan whispered within the confines of his brother's whorled ear.

Then Dylan left the room whole and shattered.