Only humans over the age of 18 years engage in any sort of sex in this fictional story.
Hope the buildup is not too slow.
Thank you, as ever, to
@kenjisato
for his thoughtful, thorough editing.
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Coby, Part 1
Born of a Central-European mum and a South-Asian dad, Coby was a beautiful boy. This is not any kind of pejorative or judgement - he was undeniably a boy with "pretty" facial features. He wasn't effeminate or 'girlie' (whatever that means) - it was simply his physiognomy. He was beautiful.
I can never work these things out: Coby was the son of the daughter of my father's second wife. What does that make us? Step-uncle/nephew? He and I were not that close as he grew up, only because of geography: I've always lived downtown and his family is way out in the outer suburbs. So we only really saw each other a few times a year, at family events. I have always been the fun, cool uncle in my family. The one who played games with the younger ones, who didn't talk down to them, the one who actually listened to them and didn't patronise them. In other words, Coby and I had a normal, utterly conventional relationship as he grew.
Coby was by this point almost nineteen and finishing highschool. Two inconsequential events in the past few months could have signalled to me that more might have been going on, if I had been paying attention. Yup, hindsight.
First was at a thanksgiving dinner party at his family house, not long after Coby turned eighteen. At some point after dinner, there were 5 or 6 of us - assorted family members of various ages - rough-housing and being silly together up in Coby's room: you know, play-wrestling, doing stupid caricatures of martial arts moves. Generally just being idiots but having a lot of fun in the process!
At one point I had Coby pinned down on the carpet and had put a foot on his chest and belly in "conquest," while beating my chest like a knight from Python's Grail. Coby was trying to extricate himself and was kicking at me so I grabbed one of his legs. He squirmed away from me but I held on to his leg so my foot on top of him shifted down as he squirmed until it was on his crotch. When I realised where my foot was I immediately moved it but as I did so I noticed that Coby had stopped squirming and was looking at me with an enigmatic expression. It lasted mere milliseconds - over as quickly as it happened. Never thought of it again.
Second was a few months later at another family dinner, this time at a restaurant. We had all arrived in separate vehicles. Sixteen people all at one huge table. By chance Coby and I ended up sitting beside each other, at a corner of the horseshoe(-ish)-shaped table, during the meal. At one point we were play-fighting again, poking each other etc. I am very ticklish and I scream ridiculously when tickled, which naturally delights all my nieces/nephews. I had tried to poke him in the ribs but he grabbed my hand to stop me. I relaxed my hand so it fell to the table and instead of letting go, Coby held on to my hand for some reason. It was only for a second - less than a second - and again I didn't think anything of it - but his dad noticed and asked him irritatedly what he was doing. Coby quickly and sheepishly let go of my hand and the conversation moved on.
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Coby's good looks meant many commercial modelling/acting gigs as a child, continuing as he grew into adolescence. As he came of age, he still got the odd commercial and although he was old enough to get around on his own, his typically helicopter-ish parents still preferred to drive him to and from his gigs - or arrange for another family member to ferry him around. They were extreme suburbanites, living way out in the hinterland and were lamely frightened of the city. Since I lived right downtown and very close to the studio most of his gigs were at, his folks asked me a few times to look after him for the time between his shoot and when they would be able to have him picked up.
A few months after the events above, Coby had a commercial shoot and no one was available to pick him up so his folks asked me to look after him for a couple of hours. Our usual arrangement, no biggie.
Someone must have let him in the main door of my building because without warning there was a knock on the door of my flat. I opened it and there he was: taller than me now, and fit, in both senses. He is a black belt in karate so you can imagine his physique! And still gorgeous of course.
I gave him a quick hug in the doorway but my door has a closer on it: I had been propping the door open with my foot, the hug threw me off balance and the door hit us.
We went the rest of the way inside so I could close the door. Coby stood in the hallway, pausing, and I turned, opening my arms.
"Hey c'mere give us a proper hug. It's been like forever man!"
We took the step or so toward each other and connected into what should have been - at least based on our history - a typical quick, back-slappin' "bro" hug. I think we both were waiting for the other to pull away to end the hug, but neither of us did, so there we stayed, joined from shoulder to thigh. We both adjusted our arms but still neither of us pulled away. It was a lovely warm, human moment.
I moved my arms down to Coby's lower back but held him to me as I leaned my head back to look at him, trying to read his expression. Before I could, he gave me, well, he gave me a quick little smooch on my cheek, just as quickly stepping back, laughing and shoving me back toward the door.
What the heck was that?
"Got any beer?"
"Yup. Fridge."
I followed him into the kitchen.
"How was the gig?"
"Eh, you know. The usual."
"Dialogue?"
"Nah."
"Too bad." Having lines in a shoot is a significant couple of notches up on the ol' Fee Schedule...
"Let's go sit. I'll put some tunes on. Requests?"
"Impress me."...Our usual faux-snark. I put on Esperanza Spalding's latest masterpiece. Mmmm mm.
"So who's coming to get you?"
"Actually your dad is."
"Aah hah! That's hilarious. That is insanely far out of his way. Why the hell don't you just take the train and an uber man. It would cost the world way less in carbon emissions, fuck."
"I know it's ridick. What can I say: I'm a fucking wimp. I've fought and fought with mom about it. I can't win. She is relentless. So I just let her have her way, you know?"
"Yeah... pick your battles and all that."
"Exactly. Fucking embarrassing though."
"Hope you at least do something nice for your grampa once in a while. Although, sad to say, he's probably happy to be wanted. Happy to be useful, a part of things."
"Huh. I never thought of that, but I can see it."
"Don't you dare ever say anything like that to him. You wouldn't, would you?...And Don't Take Advantage Of It!"
