July in Scotland is a wayward mistress. Some days fair and warm, sun dappling the fields and inviting everyone to believe they can go about without wool sweaters. And then, sometimes overnight, cold, wet air blows down from the North, or from the ocean, and the birds huddle amongst the branches and fires are lit in the houses.
Stuart arrived early one morning in a brand new motorcar that he reported later to be white, but was spattered all over with mud, as was Stuart. And so was the man with him. Michael walked out of the house and could not tell who it was that was pulling a case out of the boot since they were wearing odd goggles – speckled with mud – and a cap. Stuart ran over to him, throwing his arms around him, and kissing his cheek.
“I can't tell you how nice it is to get out of Edinburgh. It's beastly. Thank-you for having me...well, us...I hope you don't mind.” He glanced behind him guiltily and the man had taken off his goggles and who Michael was face to face with was Marcus. Who was smiling at him in a way that was very confusing: half happily, half guiltily.
“Hello, Michael. Do you mind...?”
Michael, the product of a few generations of privilege and what his mother called “effective breeding”, was nothing but polite and even, he thought to himself, gracious. He was aware that John had come out and was standing beside him looking anything but gracious. Michael turned to him, knowing John well enough to say, “Please. Just let's wait to see what this is about before you go on the attack.”
John gave a half-laugh, half-snort and turned and walked into the house.
Stuart, ever the diplomat, said, “Oh, John. He'll be right as rain in no time.”
Michael turned to Marcus and extended his hand as if he hadn't met the man before. “Hello Marcus. Welcome to my house.”
“I'm please...that I am welcome.”
Michael played the officious host and got them settled into rooms, showed them around the place, and just before lunch was to be served – upstairs, since these were guests – Marcus pulled him aside in the hall and said, “Michael, I know this is odd for me to be here at all, but Stuart is very persuasive and I have had a rather enlightening time since last I saw you. I will say this much and we can talk later, but I know I was beastly to you, a right cow as my gran would say, and I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?”
Michael listened with surprise and not a little skepticism, but the look on Marcus' face was convincing and he felt himself melt and relent. “Yes, Marcus. I do. I'm very happy to hear this. I was concerned for you. Yes, later we can talk more.”
They had a cheerful lunch and Michael was struck that he hadn't eaten upstairs in some time and quite liked it. John seemed confused at what was going on, but was polite and didn't say very much.
He managed to stop him after the meal and they stood in the back stairs. Michael took John's hand and said, “Marcus has seen the error of his ways, I suppose you could say, and has apologized for being so awful to me last term. He seems to have had a revelation or something. I really feel he has changed. I hope you can be civil to him.”
John's face softened and he kissed Michael. “I was merely protecting you, Michael. I do see he is not the same man as before, so I'm looking forward to meeting this new Marcus.”
Michael smiled and felt relieved and kissed him back. He had always found their difficult conversations made him feel very sexual and he couldn't help but slide his hand across John's trousers, feeling him get hard. “Michael McLaren, what have I told you about fondling me where everyone can see?” But he seemed delighted.
At dinner they drank a good deal of wine and sat by the windows that opened on the the meadow behind the house. The air was fresh and cool, but comfortable. Stuart, having had more wine than the others, was dozing in his chair. Marcus gave him a nudge and said, “You might fine your bed more comfortable.”
Stuart mumbled and rose and with a formal bow said, “I will retire to my chambers.” He stumbled off.
Marcus, laughing, looked at the other two with a little trepidation. “I wanted to talk with you so I am glad Stuart has gone. I want to apologize to both of you. For my...ridiculous behaviour. I broke it off with Sarah as soon as term ended and I suppose I wandered in the wilderness for a few weeks feeling wretched.
He cleared his throat and took a sip of his whiskey. “And I had an experience that...well I suppose it woke me up.”
John, smiling a little wickedly, asked “Oh? Tell us the tale.”
Looking a little guilty he said, “Do you really want to hear?”
Michael looked at John, then back at Marcus. “I think we do.”
He looked into his glass and then drained it, putting it on a little table next to him. John reached for the decanter and poured a good deal in. “I was walking by the sea near the old castle one night, feeling very low. I mean, I very briefly considered walking into the sea...don't be alarmed. It was just a passing fancy. I stood looking at the waves when I head a voice beside me.”
He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He took another large swallow of his whiskey. “It was a man – I think I recognized him from school – who said it was a nice evening. I agreed with him and he wondered why I was standing out there all by myself. I knew in that moment what he was about and I found myself smiling at him. Well...perhaps you can guess the rest.”
Michael cleared his throat feeling – to his surprise – excited. “Perhaps we can guess, but I for one would like to hear more.”
Marcus looked at him and, seeing the grin on Michael's face, smiled back, and he seemed to relax. He set his glass down again and settled himself into the chair. “We smiled at each other and then I felt his hand stroking me. Like this.” And Marcus rubbed his hand along the front of his trousers. Not just showing what the man did, but actually doing it and Michael was certain he saw that things were happening in Marcus' trousers.
“He got on his knees and unfastened them, and he pulled out my cock. Like this.” Michael, somewhat amazed at how brazen Marcus was being, watched as he unbuttoned himself and pulled out his rigid cock, just letting it sit there. Then Marcus said, a wry smile on his face, “I wonder if we three can resume where we left off.”
Hearing him laugh, Michael looked at John who smiled at both of them in turn. He stood up. “That is a grand idea, Marcus. Come upstairs...we will be more comfortable.” Shyly, Marcus followed them out of the room and up the big stairs.
Once they were in their room, John sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands. Michael sat beside him and Marcus, not sure what to do, stood uncertainly. John said “Why don't you sit between us?” He slid to one side and Marcus sat down between them. “Now finish the story. I want to know how it ends.” John was almost laughing.
With a little smile, Marcus continued, beginning to stroke himself as his cock was exposed and again, and to Michael, looked harder and damp. “The boy sucked me and licked my balls, and sucked me some more. He was very good at it.” Marcus' hand was moving a little faster.
John seemed to seize the moment. He got off the bed and on to his knees in front of Marcus and licked his cock from top to bottom, then looked up at Marcus. “Is that how he did it?”
“Yes, but he also...”
His words were stopped by Michael's mouth on his and they kissed and Michael felt Marcus' tongue quickly join his and realized he had almost missed Marcus. Not that it changed his feelings about what he was building with John. Marcus opened his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. At the same time, John pulled his trousers to the floor and Marcus was naked, his cock wet and throbbing. Michael stood up and pulled his trousers off, opening his own shirt and then pulled himself over John so he was sitting in Marcus' lap, his buttocks right over his cock which Marcus began to rub over his balls, over his hole.
Michael heard John get up and he knew he was getting the little bottle of oil which he handed to Marcus. Michael realized John had pulled his clothes off and was sitting beside Marcus, his hand on his cock, stroking. Michael sat down and Marcus, his hand slippery with oil, massaged it into him, his fingers beginning to explore. He felt the head of Marcus cock slide in slowly, past the tightness of muscle then more easily as Michael relaxed into him, lowering his body until he buttocks met Marcus' legs. He began to flex his thighs so he could push himself down, then up on the length of him. He shut his eyes, feeling himself almost split two.
Michael realized that John was standing and his cock was near his mouth, near Marcus' mouth, and they seemed to understand and they both began to lick John's cock, alternating sucking it and licking around the base, their lips meeting at the head which they both tried to kiss, rubbing their lips hungrily on it. John began to moan and held both of their heads to him.
Michael realized his thighs were getting tired and he lifted off Marcus. He moved further up the bed and lay down exposing his hole which was now almost gaping from the thickness of Marcus. Marcus got between his legs and slid into him again, this time looking down at his face. Michael was struck again by how handsome this man was and he pulled Marcus' fact to his, meeting his lips. He felt John close again, then felt John's cock sliding between their lips, tasting John's salt and musk. John seemed to be trying fuck their lips and his hips were jerking forward and Michael knew he was close to something, and sure enough, John held their faces to his cock which exploded with a rush of seed that covered their lips and outstretched tongues and they both lapped it up alternating with kisses and exploration of each other's mouths that were swirling with John's spunk.
Marcus was also pushing even harder into Michael, and once they had swallowed, he leaned back, just watching Michael as he fucked him and Michael felt it was a kind of apology since they had fucked like this before, but now it was as if Marcus was asking for forgiveness. Michael smiled up at him and watched Marcus' face become more and more intent, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate. All at once, Marcus groaned and shuddered and slowed his pace. He leaned forward and kissed Michael once more.
John was sitting beside them and he gently pushed Marcus off Michael, who watched Marcus' cock slide out of him. He wasn't sure what John was going to do until he saw John get up onto him and positioned his ass over his cock which was burnished and throbbing and he sank down in one move so that Michael was deep inside him. John said, “Take me, Michael. Take me from below. I want to watch your face while you fuck me.”
Michael was struck by the energy in John's voice, the force of his command. So he followed his orders and began to hike his hips up into John, feeling his length go deep in his body. Primed by Marcus, he knew he was not long to explode and so he did, a few more jerking thrusts upward and his whole body became a little wild and he felt his body empty into John, pouring upward and gripped John's hips for traction until his body calmed. John leaned down to kiss him, and their tongues played a lazy game.
Finally, John pulled himself off Michael's cock leaving it wet and still hard. Marcus leaned close and took it in his mouth, seeming to savour the taste of Michael and of John. He pulled off Michael's cock and lay back against the head of the bed, breathing heavily. Then he said, “Am I forgiven?”
Michael burst with laughter. “Of course you are. You just took me and I let you, so yes. You are forgiven.”
They dozed in bed for a little while, then Michael was aware that Marcus left the bed and watched him in the sputtering candlelight find his clothes and with a look at Michael that seemed warm and calm, left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.
He heard John's voice. “He seems quite himself again.”
“I would say so!” And Michael laughed, kissing John's chin, his cheek and then his lips, very softly. They settled into each other, something they were getting good at, and they both drifted off to sleep.
---
The next day, He and Stuart went for a walk in the park around the house and Michael felt very happy to have his friend there at last. He wanted to share the place. Stuart seemed excited – as always – and at one point he shyly looked at Michael, stopping by a hedgerow beyond which stood a herd of long-haired cattle, chewing in the sun.
“I found myself wondering...do you think Marcus...I mean...do you suppose he would be interesting in the likes of Stuart?”
Michael was struck by the thought which he had not entertained before. “Only you can discover this. Have you ever had a talk with him? Or felt he might be looking your way?”
“Oh, you know Marcus. It's hard to tell what he feels about anything.”
He wondered if he would say something about the night previous, but decided to keep it to himself. But he thought how Marcus was, and how almost free he seemed. “Stuart, I have a feeling that now would be a good time to declare yourself. In this world we aren't give many opportunities for this, for men like us so I think you should take the risk while you can.”
Stuart gazed fondly at him, then they continued walking in the sunshine. They stopped again at a stand of very old trees, gnarled and tall, looking as if they had been there always, through wars and storms and winters beyond count. Perhaps that was even true. Stuart said, “What do you think will happen to us, Michael? I mean for the likes of us. The world feels so...against us. Everywhere. Everyone. Well, not quite everyone. But you take my meaning. I put on my happy face and behave as if nothing could ever bother me, but it's all rubbish. I worry. For myself and for all of us.”
His face looked sad, something Michael had never seen there before. He put his arm around Stuart's shoulders and pulled him close. “I know. It weighs me down. John seems to have taken the position of constantly fighting and asserting and taking whatever he can get. And I can see that it is successful. But, as he might say, the lad is talking too loudly for his oats. I've never quite understood that saying, but I think I mean he has decided to put out of his mind the doubts he may have.”
Stuart was quiet for moment, pulling at the tall grass around them, the clear blue of his eyes looking across the meadow to the church spire that could be seen through a distant mist. “He may be right to take that stand. He found you, did he not?” And his smile was back, the playfulness in his eyes had returned.
“Surely he did.” Michael felt a rush of pleasure at the thought. John had found him and they would not be easily taken from each other now.
--
The days that followed were at turns lazy and busy. John had much to do and Michael was happy to be taught by John to at least help, if not accomplish things himself. He was becoming more comfortable dealing with tenants, with tradespeople, with keeping the finances in mind. He loved John's confidence and it was infectious.
Stuart and Marcus seemed to be content to relax and take longs walks – together, or with Michael, or alone. Michael often wondered if Stuart had spoken with Marcus yet, but as far as he could tell, he had not.
One fine afternoon when the air was still and warm, Michael and John walked across the fields toward the river that ran along the bottom of the field. They had reached a curve in the the course of the river where it flowed around a little hillock covered in willows. Michael heard a sound, then another and he realized he was hearing men's voices. As they approached an especially large willow they stopped, amazed for they saw Stuart leaning against the tree, naked, with Marcus behind him, fucking him rather forcefully.
True to form, John took this as an opportunity and strode forward, unfastening his trousers. Michael wondered where he found the...what? Courage? Fortitude? John, naked from the waist down, came up to the men who had stopped and were looking at him. Stuart seemed guilty. John laughed and said, “Don't stop on my account. I want to watch what you're doing.” He knelt down in front of Stuart and began to suckle on his cock as Marcus shrugged and began to thrust forward again.
Michael, feeling odd, since he had never imagined he would want to be that intimate with Stuart, decided to see what might happen if he took his clothes off. They were taking a risk since anyone could find them, but at the same time, the trees were large and the spot remote from the fields.
He moved toward them, feeling the breeze on his cock and knelt down behind John. He spit in his hand a few times and rubbed it on John's backside, exploring him. Then his spit more on his own cock and found he wanted to take John, rather than just make love to him. He gripped John's hips and drove his cock in. John grunted and pulled of Stewart. “You are a beast today. I like it.”
Michael laughed. “Don't expect to see the beast very often.”
But he truly wanted to fuck him hard in this strange outdoor tableau. Marcus watched him and soon their bodies were moving at the same rate. John was taking Stuart's own thrusts in response to Marcus and it all felt overwhelming to Michael. So much stimulation and the air on his body felt forbidden, that removing his clothes like this, expressing this animal need in the out-of-doors was surely sinful. But he laughed at the thought and thrust even harder.
Marcus reached a climax first, collapsing forward and gasping into Stuart's shoulders, and Stuart gripped John's head and drove his hips forward into his mouth, a strangled cry coming from him. Michael took some time and finally he felt his body begin to spasm and he felt himself filling John, felt his cock become wet and the liquid dripped onto the grass below them.
He slid out of John, feeling almost embarrassed, but he quickly realized they all did, since they were all having trouble looking at the others. Finally Stuart laughed. “Come now fellows. We can still be friendly despite that...whatever that just was!”
John gave a low laugh and reached for his trousers. “I agree with Stuart. There was no harm in that, and we have all had a nice time.”
When everyone was dressed again, Michael found he wanted to say something that he had forgotten when all this began. “I take it Stuart that you have had your conversation with Marcus?”
They both burst out laughing and Marcus put his hand on Michael's shoulder. “Yes we have. Stuart and I have come to an understanding. Haven't we?”
Stuart nodded, grinning. “We have. We mean to see how we are together. Here, and at school.” He looked at Marcus and took his hand. “We'll not make any predictions, mind. Just enjoy each other.”
Michael felt very pleased and he leaned forward and embraced Stuart, feeling affections and even love for him.
Later that night, as he and John lay on the bed – their bed, as Michael had begun to remind himself – they talked over the events of the day. He turned to John and kissed his ear, “I'm so pleased that Stuart has found someone to at least try something with. And even more, I'm so pleased that Marcus has...well...seen the error of his ways?”
John ran his hand up Michael's chest, massaging his nipples. Michael squirmed and turned to him, embracing him around the chest. “I am glad as well. It feels right. And I was wondering...if either or both of them would want this, if they could in time come to live here...or at least spend time here...what do you think?”
He felt his cock hardening into John's thigh, but he ignored it. “I have had a similar thought. I think they will need to finish taking their degrees, as I will. But I would imagine Stuart might consider it. He has independent means and could live wherever he wants. But Marcus will want to support himself somehow and I can't imagine it would be here. But he may want to visit.”
John reached down for his cock and gripped it as if trying to slow it down, but Michael could see that he was hard as well. How can we be so hard all the time, he thought. “This is of course your house, Michael. I do not mean to push this idea on you.”
Michael reached for John's cock and stroked it slowly. John growled and stroked his in turn. “At this point, John, you have as much right to decide as I. You know that I have made a will? Perhaps you didn't know I spoke with the solicitor last week. He has agreed – with some convincing – that you inherit this if I die.”
John's hand stopped moving for a moment. “Is this true?”
Michael stroked a little faster. “Yes. I will have no children. You are mine as much as my child, my brother, my parent, would be. If we could marry, then I would.”
The hand on Michael's cock moved faster, then Michael leaned forward and sucked John into his mouth and John, gasping, poured out into Michael's mouth as he gushed over John's thigh. They both began to laugh. “We are children, Michael! But I am moved by what you have done, and I love you for it.” He pulled Michael's face to his and they kissed, tasting each other over and over. They slept soundly and when Michael woke knowing John was up and busy, he was able to lay in the bed content and happy, despite the trials that may be ahead because of the world as it was, trials that may some day lead to a different one.
--
There is a tale to be told from here. A tale of Michael's house and lands on which he and John lived for many years. A tale of the second War for which Michael was conscripted (John being slightly too old) and in which he was wounded, losing an eye and injuring a leg, was discharged and recovered, with John's care in his home. A tale of Stuart who lived with them for a few of years, but then purchased lands nearby and settled into a similar state of contentment with Marcus. They both survived the second War and settled back in their home. It was an uncommon situation for Scotland and for the worlds in general. But one thing men like they were could do is be discreet and careful.
Fergus, too old for the second War, stayed on, creating a magnificent garden that still exists today. There were other men who worked for and with them and who occasionally shared their bed. But mostly it was the two of them and Mrs Rideout, who was steadfast and loyal and kept their secrets. She never found another one to love herself, but she seemed content and took on a motherly role in the house.
Thus Michael recreated the family he had grown up with, recreated the security and the love. Both Michael and John saw their kind of love decriminalized in England in 1967 and only Michael survived long enough to see it legalized in Scotland in early 1981 and he died a few months later, feeling angry but slightly vindicated. But they had had many decades to love each other and that, despite everything, was enough.
