Jumbo (16 page)

“What?”

“Wait outside while you get dressed.”

“No.” Though Mitchell wished he would. “We see each other all the time,” he added. He began to feel a little shaky, though he found a pair of underpants and stepped into them, knowing all the time that Tadd had his eyes locked on Mitchell’s cock. It was wilting under the pressure.

“It sure looks good like that.”

“What?”

“Your cock — when it isn’t hard.”

“You think so?” Mitchell said, looking down at his cock, the tighty-whities around his thighs.

“It looks like a nipple.”

Mitchell swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, pulling the underpants up, though he felt as though he could cry.

“I don’t really like cocks.”

“What?”

“I don’t really like them. I mean — I like everything else about a guy — shoulders and abs and thighs and faces — everything. But I don’t like cocks. I’m not too keen on balls either.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Tadd smiled. He sat down on Mitchell’s bed. “It looks empty.”

“What?”

“Your underpants. Like an empty sack.”

“I usually put a sock in there.”

“You’ve probably stretched it. It would be good to see how it looked in a tight pair — like in a tight pair of sexy briefs.”

“Like my speedos, I’d say.” Mitchell pulled his jeans on.

“Yeah. But you always have a hard-on when you’re at practice.”

Mitchell took a breath. “I do that on purpose.”

“What?”

“I make sure I’ve got a boner. I think about sexy shit and look at the other guys. I’ve trained myself — so it’s always hard.”

“Yeah? You told me you couldn’t help it.”

Mitchell turned to get a shirt out of his closet. “I lied.”

“What was that?”

“I lied,” Mitchell said, turning around.

Tadd smiled. “You’re a pretty funny person.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. It’s like you’re really smart, but you act like a kid.”

“I’m naive.”

“I suppose so .... Yeah, that fits.”

Mitchell nodded, sitting down on the chair to put on his shoes.

“So, you want to come around to my place?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

Mitchell shrugged.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No.” But there was something. “I’m afraid of you.”

“So you said.”

Mitchell nodded, his eyes on the ground. “I’ll come around to your place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mitchell.”

Mitchell nodded.

“You want to go, then?”

“Yeah.”

They walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “Hang on,” Mitchell said, as they passed the living room. He walked in and told his father he was going out.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Tadd.”

“Are you going to introduce me?”

Tadd walked in from the hall. He had heard the conversation from where he was standing. Mitchell’s father stood up along with Jake.

“Tadd, this is my father.”

“You can call me Michael,” his father said as they shook hands.

“And I’m Jake,” Jake said, stepping forward.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Upstairs. Tadd’s already met him, Dad. And I’m sure you’ve seen Tadd at the meets.”

“Too many people,” his father said.

Tadd nodded. “I’m the fly specialist.”

“You collect them?” Jake said.

“No. I mean butterfly. Swimming.”

Mitchell tried to restrain a smile, but he laughed.

Everyone smiled.

“Where’s the puppy?” Tadd said.

“Pete’s got him. I said he could have him for a couple of days — work on the training. He’s sleeping in Pete’s room.”

Tadd frowned briefly, but then nodded.

“Don’t you like the puppy?” he said, as they walked out the front door.

“No. Sure, I like him.”

“Have you got a name for him yet?” Tadd said, as they were getting into the car.

“I’m thinking of calling him Lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. You don’t like it?”

“Why don’t you try a real name? Like a person’s name?” Tadd said, starting the car.

“You mean like Sally?”

“Yeah.”

“That caused a lot of problems.”

“Yeah?” Tadd frowned. He glanced at Mitchell. “How?”

“Well, my mom got to know this woman called Sally around when I was twelve or thirteen. She was in my mom’s book club. Anyway, all these confusions started to happen over which Sally we were talking about. One time, after I’d just got home from school, my mother was speaking — you know the way women do — when you just lose the thread of their conversation.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Like you start thinking of something else because they’re taking too long to get to the point.”

Tadd nodded, steering around a curve in the road.

“Well, this one afternoon I came home, and my mother was talking about her book club. I was sort of zoning in and out, not really knowing what she was saying. And then she said, ‘Sally read it.’ And I said, ‘
What?
’ And she said ‘War and Peace.’ And I started to think, How could she have read it, she’s a dog. Then my mom said, ‘She thought there was too much war in it.’ And I said, ‘What?’ And she said, ‘War and Peace. Sally thought there was too much war in it.’ And I said, ‘Mom. How could she have read it? She’s a dog.’ I was half-wondering if that was what Sally did when I was at school — stay at home and read books, but at this point, Pete, who was sitting at the table drinking milk, snorted it out of his nose.”

Tadd chuckled, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. He drove with a smile on his face, shaking his head from side to side.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before.”

“Yeah. I suppose I don’t do it very often. It’s not very often someone tells me something that funny.”

“Yeah. Well, that was only the start of it. There were lots of ‘Where’s Sally?’ and my mom would say, ‘Delaware. At a conference.’ Or she’d say, ‘I had a good day with Sally. We had coffee at that new cafe.’”

“Don’t, Mitchell.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me anymore. I’m trying to drive. I’ve only just got this car.”

Mitchell nodded, staring at the dash. He had never been anywhere near a car like this. It must have cost tens of thousands.

“It’s a nice car.”

“It’s unbelievable.”

36

Tadd’s house was enormous, like something transplanted from Europe. Three floors of large, mullioned windows, steep slated roofs angling every which way, dormer windows, finials, chimney stacks. The drive curved up through a grove of ancient oaks to a high-roofed portico supported by four massive columns. Tadd pulled up on the drive, the gravel crunching under the tires of the Audi, while Mitchell glanced around at the house and grounds.

He followed Tadd to the front door, feeling a little overawed, though Tadd seemed to think there was nothing to comment on. He slipped his key into the grand double doors and pushed them open, holding them for Mitchell who walked through into a grand checkered hall. A majestic set of stairs led upwards, fanning at the landing to either side, and reaching high above Mitchell’s head. Mitchell span around, craning his head upwards.

“You want to come up to my room?”

“Okay,” Mitchell said, hearing his voice small, and wanting to get into any place smaller than this.

Tadd led the way up the stairs and turned to the right. At the top, on the second floor, the corridor led away in both directions. At the end of it, Tadd opened a door and turned left. The corridor then became irregular, they moved into one space, where there was a second set of stairs. On the other side of this was a closed door. Tadd took out his keys and unlocked it. He led Mitchell through, locking the door after him.

Tadd had the end of a wing to himself, he explained. A bedroom, a sitting room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and two extra bedrooms for anyone he invited over.

“So you want to sit in the sitting room?”

“Okay.” Mitchell followed Tadd into the room. “Where does that door go?” Mitchell said, nodding at a door at the back of the sitting room.

“It’s a different entrance into the wing at the back of the house.”

“God. You could get lost in here.”

“It has been known to happen.”

“Could we go exploring?”

“We’re not really supposed to go into those rooms. They’ve been renovated, but they’re empty. My father wants to keep them pristine — but if you really want to.”

“No. It doesn’t matter.”

Tadd opened his hand at the couch, and Mitchell sat down, sinking into the soft, black leather. His cock had retracted into his body, the way it always responded to fear.

Tadd sat down at the other end of the couch. “What do you want to do? Games? TV? Something to eat?”

“We could just talk.”

“Yeah. That would be good,” Tadd said. He turned to face Mitchell, lifting his knee onto the couch.

Mitchell wanted to put his fingers into his groin and press down. Whenever he was uncomfortable like this, or cold, he liked to press his hands into his groin, pressing into the depression where his penis had retreated.

He swallowed.

“Well. What do you want to say?”

Mitchell shrugged.

“Do you like me?”

Mitchell nodded.

“You’re not giving me a lot of encouragement.”

“I wrote you a note.” As soon as he had said this, Mitchell felt as though it was a stupid thing to have said. “It’s only a couple of days since I first ... I didn’t ever know ... that you would have liked me.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“Yeah?” Mitchell said, glancing at Tadd.

“Longer than you’d believe.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. Since we were freshmen.” He paused. “I did my best to hide it.”

Mitchell nodded. He glanced at Tadd again, throwing him a brief smile.

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that ... you wouldn’t think you were ... vulnerable — to anything.”

“I’m not a superhero.”

“No,” Mitchell said, though he made no sound.

“Mitch.”

“What?”

“Do you think you could relax? We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Yeah.”

“Could I put my arm around you?”

Mitchell took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Tadd slid along the couch and sat next to Mitchell. He put an arm around his shoulders.

“You’re all pressed up into one end. Move this way a bit.”

Mitchell did as Tadd said, shuffling closer to him.

“You’re like a bird.”

“My heart’s beating pretty fast.”

“Will we just sit here?”

“Okay.”

Tadd turned his head and nuzzled his face into Mitchell’s hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

“No,” Mitchell said, though again he made no sound.

“Your hair. Your face. Your body. You’re like something — miraculous. You reckon you could loosen up a bit?”

“I’ll try.”

“Is there anything you want to do? I mean — I said on the phone that I wouldn’t do anything. But if there’s anything you want to do?”

“You could fuck me,” Mitchell said, and his chest jerked.

“No, Mitch. I’ve tried that. I mean, I’d like to.” Tadd paused. “But it’s not possible.”

“Why isn’t it?” Mitchell said, not looking at Tadd, but at the carpet, where there was a small dark stain that he thought might be blood.

“I’ve tried it — with girls, but it’s never happened. I’m too big.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m seven inches around.”

Mitchell felt like he was about to begin shaking. “What do you mean?”

“Circumference.”

Mitchell stared at the stain. “What do you think a baseball bat is?”

“Circumference?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.”

“A lot bigger than seven inches, though. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah.”

Mitchell figured the stain looked a little like a dead poodle, lying on its side. “I’m pretty sure you could do it, if you wanted to.”

“Well, of course I want to. If there’s one thing I want to do, then that’s it. But it just won’t work, Mitchell.”

“If there’s one thing I could choose, one thing I want to do, we could swap. I mean ....”

“What?”

“You could try to fuck me, and then, we could try to do something I want to do. Sometime.”

“Is it going to hurt me?”

“No.”

“I can’t fuck you, Mitchell. You’re shaking.”

Mitchell pulled his eyes away from the stain. He leaned a little toward Tadd. “Could we just lay down, then? On your bed?”

“Not even take our clothes off?”

“No,” Mitchell said, again not making a sound.

“No?”

Mitchell shook his head a little.

“I’d like to see your cock again.”

“It’s not hard.”

“Really?”

Mitchell nodded. He felt somehow stunned.

“This isn’t turning you on? Sitting like this?”

“I’m afraid of you.”

37

Tadd picked Mitchell up and carried him into his bedroom as though he was carrying a bride over the threshold. Mitchell felt loose and weak, as though he had no strength in his muscles at all.

Tadd placed him gently onto the bed, an enormous bed with a soft, eiderdown quilt. The bed had a canopy, curtains, though they were raised. On the ceiling of the bed there was a scene of angels blowing trumpets in the sky. The bedroom had a fireplace, and by it, a pair of armchairs.

Tadd walked around the bed and got onto it, lying on his back like Mitchell was, not touching Mitchell. He had his hands behind his head, staring at the roof of the bed.

Mitchell turned onto his side, turning to face Tadd. He drew his knees up and looked at Tadd in profile. His face was perfect. A strong chin, a curved though extended brow, a straight nose, dark hair. He didn’t look as though he shaved very often. His face was smooth, and there was a blush in his cheekbones.

Mitchell shuffled toward him a little. Tadd didn’t move.

Mitchell hesitated, breathing deeply. Could Tadd really love him?

He moved a little closer and put a shaking hand onto Tadd’s chest. He left it there, though his whole arm was quivering. He needed to embrace Tadd. He shuffled forward, all the way, and put his arm over Tadd’s chest, pressing his body alongside him. Suddenly, Mitchell felt the beginnings of a boner, though it seemed to be rising slowly, as though it would retreat at any moment.