Perfect Imperfections

This is a problem that has been weighing down my mind for the past four years or so. It is a strange problem because it used to prick at my conscience, though no longer. It is still a "problem", because it is a situation that I cannot solve. Which is in itself a troubling prospect.

We come from an elite all-boys school known for churning out students who go on to Oxbridge and the Ivies. A member of the elite-to-be, you can say. I was a fencer and he, a soccer player.

We met innocently enough. I was rushing into the cafeteria one morning to look for Jasper, my best friend. To this day, I still do not know why. To hector him for a piece of homework possibly. I found him easily enough. He was talking to Brandon from the football team. I know they were great friends but I have never had the chance to say hi. Until that morning anyway.

I did not really know much about him. He was not particularly good-looking. He was just normal, like you and me. His smile and that firm handshake though. I wondered idly who in the world at our age introduce themselves to their schoolmates with a handshake?

That night, I was reading Jared Diamond's analysis of how the Easter Island society that gave us moais imploded when I felt my phone buzz with an incoming message.

"Alec, Brandon here. Jas said you're a god when it comes to geography. I was wondering if you want to come over to my place and we can work on a set of notes for our upcoming geography test? The textbook and readings are useless. No pressures though yeah"

I was intrigued. He is quite intelligent. While I topped the level in geography, he topped the level in history. He was perfectly capable of working on a set of geography notes.

Jasper was practicing with the school band and could not join us the next afternoon after school. We walked to his home. His room was hopelessly cluttered.

"I'm sorry, I just cannot bring myself to declutter this place" he mumbled before flashing a wide smile. Quite unlike your typical football player.

"It's okay. Let's do it." I pulled out my laptop and we compared notes. Yes, I am a nerd and a sportsman. I am proud of that. We worked through the afternoon and night, punctuated with mundane chatter and whines like most boys our age.

We finished at 11pm and he insisted that he walk back with me because it would be a lonely and dangerous fifteen minutes' walk otherwise.

"I wouldn't get mugged y'know. I am pretty nifty with a pointy stick. "

"Manners manners. I know you're good with your stick but still."

And he gave me that smirk.

I swallowed. The darkness suddenly felt really stifling.

I darted into my room when I got home and sat down on the floor in the dark. What could he have meant by that? A myriad of possibilities started chasing after themselves in my mind. I slapped them down before retiring for the night.

God knows I have tried really hard not to think about that comment and that encounter. It would have been possible if not for Providence.

Predictably, Jasper, Brandon and I aced our test. I found myself hanging out with Brandon increasingly after school. We spent more and more time studying together on days when we do not have any practice, which happened to be the days Jasper had band practice. We hung out in the library, at his place, at my place, at Starbucks, anywhere and everywhere, but mainly his room.

In hindsight, those innocent touches and slaps here and there which I dismissed at the time as casual displays of brotherly affection (extremely common in my all-boys school),were hardly innocent at all. We became a lot more comfortable with each other and best buddies. We shared almost every single detail of our lives with each other including our sexual exploits and fantasies.

And it happened.

That afternoon after school, we were just lying around in his room, me reading my novel and him leafing through a magazine.

"Do guys with circumcised cocks need lube to jack off?" He wondered aloud randomly.

"Don't be retarded, of course not Bran" I replied casually while still concentrating on Charles Ryder's adventures at Brideshead - quite fitting given the circumstances don't you think?

"How do you know?" He shot back.

"Cos I'm circumcised, dumbass" I countered while reading though I could not concentrate on my book any longer.

"I have never seen one. Show me" he whispered while lying down next to me on the floor.

I felt this strange feeling overtake my rationality, a strange and pulsing irrationality fogging up my mind. Lust, probably.

Brandon can be very persuasive and charming. We disagreed on many things, but I have always found it difficult to mount a rebuttal with him as my opponent. His smile and looks were disarming. He is not strikingly handsome, everything about him is above-average, just like me, except our minds. But he radiates trust. One chat with him, and you feel like you can rely on him. And we both knew that. But I love his smile, his full unguarded grin that just seems to light up his face. His fringe which flops into his eyes makes him seem younger than he really is.

I felt his hand snake across my thighs before sliding itself into position over my crotch. By this time, there was an unmistakable bulge. As he continued stroking my crotch and my thighs with his hands, I heard myself gasp at the pleasure that registered in my mind.

I could not think and I did not. I found myself reaching over to feel his bulge and heard his intake of breath. We stood and shed our pants. It must have been a really strange sight - two eighteen years-olds in their white school shirts and underwear standing and looking at each other shyly.

He reached over and begin cupping my erection and balls through my tight grey boxer briefs with one hand. The other he held onto my shoulder. I did the same. We were both exploring tentatively, neither wanting to make the next step while yet reveling in the pleasure this brought.

He made the next step. He pulled down my underwear and freed my cock which was harder than I could ever imagine. He started to stroke my dick and I could see the drop of pre-cum at the tip of my cock. It felt amazing. He started slowly before whispering into my ear, "Does it feel good?"

"Of course." I whispered back. As though I would lose that pleasurable connection if I raised my voice.

"Your hand is amazing" he said it so softly that I nearly missed it. By now, his underwear had joined mine by our ankles.

We did not exchange any more words as stroke each other to a crescendo. Our moans and intakes of breath told us all we needed to know about each other's state of arousal. We remained in that strange position, facing each other with one hand on each other's shoulder for stability and the other stroking each other's cock. We were thrusting into each other's hands. Stroke met thrust. I felt my orgasm building and apparently his too as he started tensing. We could feel it.

"Don't stop" was all he said before he came like a fountain. His cock erupted and his jizz was everywhere all over my hand, that hot sticky fluid. It was surprisingly arousing to see Brandon come apart under my ministrations and it did nothing but expedite my own arrival at the edge.

"I'm going to cum you know" I told him in between gasps as he leaned his head on my shoulder and continued to stroke me. Without warning, he knelt down and took my dick in his mouth. He licked and sucked on my overly sensitive head while still stroking me. The wet warmth of his mouth and the suction he applied were all too much to bear. I came apart in his mouth and all I could say was "Brandon!"

Stupid of me, I know. But it was the only thing my sex-crazed mind could think of at that moment. It was erotic; him kneeling down and taking my dick in his mouth, milking me for all I was worth.

When the throes of my orgasm were over, I was in shock. I found myself cleaning my hands with some wet tissues Brandon provided me with. We were silent as we dressed.

"Alec, that was" he started but I cut him off.

"I am not gay. I am not a fag. I am going." That was what I said. I was being a complete ass to my bud. I knew that but I could not bring myself to face what we have done. All my life, my parents and the church have taught me that homosexuality is a sin. It is an abomination. I will go to hell for this. We both will.

I could not miss the shock and hurt in Brandon's face. It was as if someone had punched him. I threw everything into my backpack and ran out the front door with my shirt tucked out. But I did not care. I could not care.

"ALEC!!" I could hear him shouting from behind me as he followed me down the stairs.

I continued running along the pavement not knowing where I was going. In my mind, all I could think of was "No. No. No." Yet, I felt a strong sense of guilt - like I have committed great sins in a short span of time, to myself, to Brandon and to God.