Veil

by Aaron Overfield

  “Oh, Hunt! You didn’t have to do that,” Olivia called out from behind when she caught him in the act.

  Hunter finished placing the last couple bottles in the mini-fridge and shut its door as he stood up.

  “You know how he is,” Hunter smiled and turned around.

  “Yeah I do, and you know he already noticed they were missing. So he’ll be even happier they’ve been replaced than he would’ve been had he never noticed they were gone,” she nodded. She knew Hunter understood exactly what she meant. And he did.

  “He sure will.”

  Brock’s house looked so different to him from Hunter’s height and through Hunter’s eyes. The smell was the same though, and the feeling of it being home was as strong in Hunter as it was in Brock. Hunter probably spent more time at the Elsbeth house than at his own so that wasn’t a surprise to Brock, although it did feel good to experience it firsthand.

  I had so many ideas, Hunter thought as he made his way to the basement, about what we could do today, from skydiving to rock climbing to bungee jumping—all that. I had no idea what to pick. There were a few obvious things, as you saw, and I always had to put myself in your shoes, trying to predict what you would want to do if you could. Coming here was one of the last ideas I had but it was one of the best. I know how much your parents love you and I know how much you love them. I know you’re probably still looking at everything through my eyes, still noticing how different things seem, but I want you to stop that for now. For the rest of the time we’re home, I want you to pretend like I’m you, because that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to pretend like I’m Brock Elsbeth.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Hunter stopped thinking.

  “Hey son!” came the deep voice from a corner of the basement.

  “Yo, what’s up pops! Moms tells me you’ve been busy down here trying to overdo it and get yourself hurt.”

  “Well,” Elijah Elsbeth offered in his defense, “it’s not every day I get someone over here to help me take care of this old house, so I gotta make use of it.”

  “I’m all yours.”

  “Check out this beauty,” he beamed and proudly showed off his new water heater. He informed Hunter that he was still in the process of disconnecting the old one and added, “Your mom didn’t tell me what time you’d be coming over so I wanted to get everything ready.”

  It was that last thing his dad said that made things really sink in. It all came together and made perfect sense, especially in light of Hunter’s words as he descended into the basement. He understood Hunter’s message.

  He and Hunter were so similar and his parents treated Hunter like a son, so it wasn’t hard at all for Brock to simply slip into being himself in that moment. As strange as it was to experience life through someone else, only through Hunter could the experience come so close to feeling as though he were inside his own skin. Now he knew what Hunter meant; Hunter wanted it to be Brock’s experience.

  At that moment, Brock was a man in his parents’ basement, who was helping his pops install a new water heater. Exactly what a grown man would do: help out and take care of his parents whenever he could. It was part of being a man and something Brock felt he was never able to do, especially when he considered how much his parents took care of him.

  Brock felt completely at home as the two men worked and chatted and joked and laughed and cussed, trying to get the damn thing to connect the way it should. Although he stopped feeling “not normal” years and years ago, the movement of Hunter’s body was the closest Brock came to feeling normal than he had in as long as he could remember. The sensation, combined with not only being at home but also feeling at home, resonated so closely with Brock that—it dawned on him. Hunter’s message dawned on him and he truly understood it.

  In the lab, Brock’s eyes flew open. Hunter was staring at him; he was sitting there patiently waiting for Brock to have the realization. He quickly glanced down at his pocket watch and then at the notebook still in his lap. He looked at Brock and smiled.

  “Watch dad. Pay attention to him,” Hunter whispered.

  Brock closed his eyes. He had been paying attention to his father, and that was how Brock realized what he realized. He kept paying attention; he paid close attention as his father casually talked to Hunter the exact same way he would’ve talked to Brock. There was absolutely no difference; he treated the two men, who were practically brothers, in exactly the same manner. There was no change in voice or tone. There was nothing in his father’s mannerisms to indicate he felt any differently toward Hunter than he did Brock.

  It finally dawned on Brock that he felt so at home and felt so normal in Hunter’s skin because everything was so identical. The only thing different was his body. And that was just it: the way his father was speaking to him through Hunter showed him that his father never treated him any differently because of his body. His father always treated him like a man, same as any other man.

  For the first time, Brock realized fully how, in the back of his mind, he constantly wondered if people did treat him differently, especially his parents. He wondered that almost to the point of obsessing over it. For the first time, he realized how deeply the unanswered question still affected him, even to that day. He figured he stopped asking himself that insidious question at some point while growing up. However, the question itself, rather than the answer, simply planted roots deeper and deeper in his mind.

  The fear of knowing the answer pushed Brock to the point where he allowed himself to become a subconscious hostage of the question. Of course he would still ask himself that question—why wouldn’t he?—the question became part of him. In that moment, as Hunter and Brock’s father installed a new water heater, a question Brock Elsbeth grappled with, so often and for so long that he forgot he was asking it, finally got answered. Hunter didn’t treat Brock any differently; his parents didn’t treat him any differently. If anyone else did, well—fuck them, they didn’t matter anyway.

  Brock opened his eyes again and looked at Hunter. He badly wanted to ask his friend “how?” How Hunter not only knew what Brock would want to experience but also what he needed to experience. For a moment Brock became angry with his body for not being able to ask his friend that simple question. The anger quickly turned into a laugh. For the hell of it, Hunter laughed with him.

  Within an hour, the two men disconnected the water heater, installed the new one, carried the old one to the garage and lifted it into the bed of his dad’s truck. As they washed their hands in the garage sink, Olivia poked her head inside.

  “Hunt baby, are you going to be staying for dinner?”

  Hunter glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “You know I’d like to, but I’ve gotta get cleaned up. I’ve gotta date.”

  “Oh really?” Elijah grinned at Hunter. “Do we know him?”

  “Eli! It’s none of our business, he’s a grown ass man!” he was scolded by his wife.

  Hunter laughed. “Actually her name is Katharine and nope, she’s someone from college who happens to live in the area. Sort of.”

  “See, now don’t you feel stupid,” Olivia teased her husband and closed the garage door.

  Elijah grabbed two towels from a rack over the sink and handed one to his son.

  “You’re a confusing man, you know that? Right when someone thinks they know you,” he smiled, chuckled a couple of times, and shook his head.

  After he finished drying his hands and rehung the towel on the rack, Hunter grinned and gave a typical Hunter response.

  Tapping his head, he grinned, “Yeah well, try being up here.”

  Elijah Elsbeth belted out a laugh, put an arm around Hunter, and gave his own typical response.

  “Takes all kinds … Takes all kinds.”

  Hunter made his way back to Brock’s bedroom, grabbed his bag, and headed to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and began to undress.

  Now, I know I have the body and dick of a god, but don’t go getting
off on seeing me naked, you perv, he thought to Brock as he climbed into the shower.

  Brock opened his eyes and snarled at Hunter in the lab. In return, Hunter licked his two index fingers, rubbed his nipples through his shirt, and gyrated his hips seductively. Brock sneered and closed his eyes. He didn’t know which was worse: being forced to experience Hunter shower inside the Veil or watching Hunter’s jackassery in the lab.

  Hunter did possess a good physique and it wasn’t really a secret or anything. Growing up, he was always rather attractive and athletic enough. He stayed in shape as everyone else got older and became bigger around the waist. Hunter explained to Brock a long time ago how in the gay world, if someone didn’t have a nice body, it didn’t matter how good-looking of a face they possessed. The only thing that mattered as much as having a jacked body was having a big bank account. Since he could, Hunter figured, why not have both? And the dick to boot.

  Brock always admired Hunter’s physique but thought it appropriate that Hunter was, for the most part, gay, because he had that whole “too good looking to be straight” thing going on. And too built. Although, “gay” wasn’t really the right word for Hunter. Brock figured Hunter to be bi-curious, but in the opposite way of how most people thought of it. Hunter was a man who was bi-curious about women, rather than a man who was bi-curious about other men. Hunter was homoflexible.

  Experiencing Hunter in that capacity—naked and in the shower—actually didn’t creep Brock out too much. Sure, he usually feigned being grossed out because Hunter had the tendency to turn everything into a gay joke, but Hunter possessed a unique perspective on sexuality and the body. So, he had no qualms with recognizing the fact that Hunter had an impressive physique and, from what all Brock had seen in porn, wielded a formidable dick.

  The realization that Hunter was slowly becoming aroused in the shower was a totally different story. Like, completely aroused, Brock suddenly noticed … and felt. Like, aroused and erect and shit.

  Ok, what the hell?

  Brock opened his eyes and as much as he could, frowned and scowled at Hunter. Hunter referred to his pocket watch and notebook again.

  “Close your eyes and hear me out,” he instructed his friend.

  As much as he wanted to ask his friend “how” earlier, Brock just as badly wanted to call his friend “homo” then.

  Before he shut his eyes, Brock could already hear Hunter thinking to him from back in the shower. Brock shut his eyes and listened.

  This is something as a man I think you should experience, too. I want you to go back to pretending that I’m you. It’s you in the shower and it’s your dick. For reasons that will become clear later, this is what some of us guys refer to as ‘emptying the gun.’ It can be an essential part of getting ready to go out for the night. And, no matter what any guy ever says, even married ones, even dads, all men jack off. All the time. Jacking off as a man is a lot different than jacking off as a boy. So don’t be a pussy and go with it.

  Not really having much of a choice, Brock went with it. Hunter cleared his mind and the two focused on the feeling and sensation of getting off in the shower. Hunter was right: jacking off as a man, possessing a man’s dick, was different from jacking off when they were kids. And yes, it felt good, although not nearly as good as fucking did earlier. But, sure, it felt good.

  Whatever.

  Brock tried as much as possible to pretend like he was himself rather than Hunter, but it still wasn’t the same. He could’ve definitely gone without that part of the Veil. He imagined it was akin to jacking off your brother. Or jacking off your identical twin, which he supposed could be considered masturbating in some sick way. Whatever that part of the Veil was for or intended to accomplish, it was less than interesting and he definitely could’ve gone without it.

  Brock opened his eyes in the lab and rolled them at Hunter.

  Hunter shrugged and said, “Hey, can’t win ‘em all. You’ll understand later, though.”

  Brock rolled his eyes again and shut them.

  Hunter got all dressed up and said his goodbyes to the parents after he reminded them they never saw him; he was never there that day. No matter who asked, he was never there. Period. They agreed, so long as it didn’t involve him going out and killing someone later. He assured them it was nothing like that, and they would find out one day soon what it was about. However, as one of their sons, he was begging them to deny he was ever there that day if it came up for any reason within the next, say, week or so. No matter who asked. They agreed. They were confused, but they agreed.

  Hunter hugged dad and they shook hands. He gave mom one more hug and another twirl in the air, to which she gave the same demand that he put her down that instant. She kissed him on the cheek, thanked him for helping his father, and told him to behave himself.

  He gave mom a look that said, You know me, and left.

  On the way to their next destination, Hunter opened the glove box and took out a couple of protein bars and a banana. Brock realized Hunter hadn’t eaten all day and he could feel Hunter’s hunger. He hadn’t considered what it might feel like to experience eating as someone else, so his curiosity was immediately piqued. Unfortunately, the food choice wasn’t ideal and the experience was rather bland. It definitely felt different, but Brock figured the experience was certainly lacking due to the food choice. He made another mental note to talk to Hunter about that as well. The taste buds could probably be a pretty damn powerful source of experience inside Veil. Maybe next time.

  After about twenty minutes, they arrived at their destination and Hunter parked the car. He scanned the parking lot until his eyes found the same car that was parked at the bottom of the cliffs earlier. The same car he fucked in earlier that day.

  “Round two,” he said out loud after he spotted the car. He headed to the entrance of the building.

  The next hour was spent with the same woman from earlier, Katharine. The two dined on tapas over drinks. As Brock suspected earlier, the experience of tasting food through someone else was fascinating. The protein bars definitely weren’t up to par, but the tapas sure as hell were. The tastes weren’t better, or more intense, or even different in and of themselves. What was different was how Hunter’s mind paid more attention to certain tastes than did Brock’s. While the entire palate of flavors was available within every bite, Hunter’s mind somehow preferred certain tastes to others. His preference was reflected in how the flavor of each bite was perceived. It was fascinating.

  However, because of the company, it was hard for Brock to focus on the experience of eating for too long. Brock found it hard to take his attention away from her. Hunter and Katharine caught up, discussed their lives, and playfully flirted throughout the meal. When they were finished, they made their way to the back of the restaurant, which opened up into a small dance club.

  For the first time in his life, Brock danced. And not only danced but danced with a woman. He felt himself move with her body and felt her skin rubbing against Hunter’s. He felt how they could move in unison at some points, with their bodies pressed up against each other, and then at others be completely separate physically but still sharing the same rhythm, still in unison. Man, Brock liked dancing. A lot. It seemed like Hunter was good at it. Damn gays, he figured, always so good at everything.

  Imagine that.

  In the lab, Brock smiled with his eyes closed and he jerked his head back and forth, back and forth, in small movements, to the sound of the music Hunter danced to so many hours ago. Hunter smiled as he watched his friend wind down the night.

  After over an hour at the club, Katherine took off her shoes and stood on the tops of Hunter’s feet. Hunter used his feet to dance for the both of them and he held her against him while he moved in slow, rhythmic circles.

  She finally looked up at him; both were worn out but not tired.

  “Wanna go?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he winked and as she put on her shoes, he paid their tab. The two walked out of the rest
aurant, arm-in-arm, and got into her car. She drove and he placed his hand on her thigh to gently rub it. They remained quiet for the entire drive until they arrived, a short time later, at the hotel where she was staying. Hunter quickly jumped out of the car after she parked. He ran around to her door and opened it for her. Hand-in-hand, they walked into the hotel.

  Hunter smiled and thought to Brock once again.

  You experienced fucking. I wanted to do it that way so you’d get over the shock and awe of it. Now I’m going to show you sex. Real sex. From beginning to end. Every part of it. Get ready bud, this right here is one of the things life is all about. This is also why I wanted to empty the gun. See, I told you. Pussy.

  Brock’s eyes shot open. Hunter looked down at the notebook and smiled as he stood. He set the notebook in the chair and placed the pocket watch on top of it.

  “Enjoy,” he whispered to his friend and walked out of the lab. When he got to the door he looked back and saw Brock’s eyes were closed. Hunter turned off the lights to the lab, opened the door and, stepped outside.

  Ken was there, sitting in a chair by the door of the lab.

  “Everything ok?” he asked Hunter.

  “Oh, yeah, perfect. Absolutely perfect. Just letting the old boy have some privacy for this part. I needed to stretch a bit anyway, maybe get a bite to eat. You hungry?”