Francis took the blame. Francis was cool like that. He just spoke up, said it was all his fault, told the headmaster that I hadn't been any where near him when it had happened. Everyone liked Francis, the headmaster would let him off with some time-consuming but pretty trivial punishment; the new pupil, the new English pupil. Francis would have to practice his English more and have this kid trail around after him for months. It would be annoying but it wasn't horrible. I thanked him, Francis was a true friend. It wasn't until I saw the new pupil that I was suddenly jealous. Silas, the new boy, was beautiful. If I'd taken the blame I could have had him and I wanted him so badly and ever minute of every day he was with Francis. Francis kept him busy, choosing his clothes and carrying his books. Silas would wander around looking dazed and tired all the time and Francis would boast about the sex they had, telling me how Silas was a total sex hound who would jump him every time they were alone. I wanted the boy.
Francis and I were like brothers. We came from the same region of the country and everyone noticed our accents. We both had dark hair, were both tall, although Francis was slightly taller than me. He had dark brown eyes, much darker than mine. His mum had died when he was young, he'd been moving around from boarding school to boarding school, expelled from most of them until he finally got sent to this school. This was a school for the boys no one else could deal with, the gay ones, the ones with pregnant girlfriends, the ones on drugs, the bullies. His father travelled a lot, sending Francis large sums of money each month but never any letters. Everyone knew Francis, everyone loved him and felt the desire to be around him but some how he took energy from people, stole it whereas most extroverts reflected it. You gave to him but there was nothing in return. I wondered if sex with him was the same. Francis was the only person at that school who knew I was gay. He'd said it was cool and then kissed me. He smiled, asked if I wanted to have sex with him 'cause he'd always wanted to try it.
"We won't date." He'd said. "We wouldn't work as boyfriends."
He'd sucked me off once but then Silas had turned up and Francis decided to experiment with him instead. Obviously, he enjoyed his experiments and he kept Silas by his side all the time. And Silas was tired all the time. When I went to hang out with them in Francis' room, Silas would always be sitting on the floor. Francis had a desk but Silas never seemed to use it. Silas could have just done his work in his room, he never joined in our conversations, just sat on the floor, working, occasionally watching us, blushing when Francis noticed and commented on it.
"Why don't you use the desk?" I'd asked him once when I'd gone to Francis' room and found Silas alone, working on the floor.
He'd looked down at the floor before answering. He shrugged slightly.
"Its easier to work on the floor."
He had a beautiful accent. He spoke Spanish slower than native speakers, sometimes emphasising vowel-sounds that most people just skipped over. He didn't speak often though, Silas was so innocent, hardly ever talking to anyone, just following Francis around. Everyone followed Francis but Silas did it as if there was no-one else in the world, as if he was programmed only to listen to Francis. If he was a total sex hound he hid it well.
When we went to university Francis told me he had HIV. He'd had it since before he started fucking Silas. He had HIV and was fucking the most beautiful boy in the world. I'd punched him, swore at him and called him every name I could think of. Then I dropped out of university, left Spain and went to travel the world, to reconsider life. That bastard had polluted such an innocent and I couldn't stay around him. He still went back to the school, to fuck Silas, he didn't even seem guilty about it. He was phoning me for days after I left, telling me that it was ok, that Silas was cool. Of course Silas was cool, Silas hardly spoke, he wouldn't be able to stand up to a persuasive argument from Francis. Francis shouldn't have put the poor kid in that situation.
Then I got a letter, about ten years after we'd first been to school together, from Francis' lawyer. Francis had died and left me something in his will and his lawyer had been trying to tracking me down. I went to see the lawyer, got a letter from beyond the grave and then went round to an apartment block in one of the more expensive areas of the town. There was a doorman who told me that if I was with Josh then Silas didn't want to see me. He called up to Silas' apartment with my name.
"Philip from school?" The doorman asked.
I nodded surprised that Silas remembered me so quickly. The doorman let me go up.
The door of the apartment was open, Silas was on the floor, surrounded by papers. He smiled up at me.
"I'm glad the lawyer managed to get hold of you. I thought you'd come and see me, once you read the letter. Francis told me about the argument you guys had and how much he regretted it."
"I think that's the most I've ever heard you say. Glad to see you're still enjoying sitting on the floor." I went in and shut the door.
He grinned again and stood up.
"Do you want a drink?"
I followed him in the kitchen.
"So he never slept with you? Ten years and you guys never fucked?"
"How much did the letter tell you?" He asked, suddenly looking fearful.
I patted his arm.
"I'm not gonna judge you. If you like to be tied up and spanked then its up to you but he said that he didn't think that you did. Whats going on with this Josh fellow then?"
He turned away from me before he started talking, that was just like he'd been at school, couldn't stand people looking at him when he spoke. That's why most of the time, he didn't talk. People looked at him because he was beautiful, because he was with Francis, because he didn't talk.
"Francis' home help when he came off the medication. Francis told him to look after me the day before he died, look after me both sexually and helping with the funeral arrangements. I didn't mind it for a while, I think I needed someone to help me out for a while but then he got violent and possessive and I didn't love him, I didn't want him here. I kicked him out and he's been trying to get back for a while but I think he's gone now."
"You kicked someone out?" I laughed.
He put his hand on his hip and watched me until I stopped.
"I'm not a total pushover you know. Francis never forced me to do anything I didn't want to do."
"Why did you always sit on the floor?"
He ignored me.
