The Peter & Charlie Trilogy

by Gordon Merrick

  “Can I have you now the way it’s always been?”

  He looked at her and smiled ruefully. “We agreed it would never be the same again. Well. Life is a slow wearing away. We’ll see.” They fell back on the bed together and he moved her with tender care and removed the ugly shreds of cloth from around her waist and made her comfortable before he lifted himself over her and prepared to celebrate his slightly worn, slightly damaged love.

  Charlie sat at Peter’s desk and tried to draw Jeff’s head from memory. It kept coming out rather hawklike. He must have missed some quirk in the features that was the clue to a likeness. He wished the model would hurry up and get here so that he could rectify the omission. He couldn’t bear the thought of his sitting alone somewhere, tormented, feeling abandoned. He hoped his parents hadn’t given him a bad time. He could count on George, if sober, to deal reasonably with him. He was less sure of Sarah. The boy was already strained to the breaking point; he tensed at the thought of what a careless word could do to him.

  Everything had gone more easily with Martha than he had expected and the household had received him comfortably. There was evidently to be no further reference to the night before. He had been able to announce Peter’s return for the next day as if it had never been questioned. As he had done so, he had been nervously aware of tempting fate by allowing himself to think of Jeff while Peter was still away.

  But he had thought of Jeff, without stopping. He had worked his way through the whole situation in his mind, presenting it to himself in the most extreme terms.

  He was half in love with a boy half his age. At any moment, he might say the word or make the move that would release the flood of love he had sensed so precariously balanced in the boy. They would be two people in love. They would have to be together. He would move to Boston. Farewell to the family. He would watch over Jeff, guide him, help launch him on whatever career he might choose. There would be no fear of Jeff being tempted by others so long as he remained spellbound by the monumental phallus. Charlie had known a good many male bodies in his time and had encountered only one or two that might have qualified as competition. As for himself, something in his spirit had been captured by Jeff’s great undirected, undisciplined yearning. His body ached to fill Jeff’s young unformed body with joy. His eyes longed to learn the moods that filled Jeff’s eyes with mysterious beauty, that touched the beautiful curve of Jeff’s lips with adorable tenderness. It would mean building a new life. A life with Jeff. Us.

  Each step in his thoughts caused a wrench, but when he got that far he was overwhelmed with desolation. He had to be with Peter. He would wither and die without the familiar touch of Peter’s glorious body, without the known safe brilliance of his presence. He could think of having them both, but wasn’t there any sane solution? Adopt Jeff as a son, integrate him into the family, have him secretly until the ache slowly eased? Perhaps tonight would still his craving to display himself to Jeff’s worshiping eyes. Wasn’t that what his being “in love” amounted to? Whatever words he used to describe it didn’t diminish the fire that burned in him.

  His hand flew over the paper as he created another hawklike image. It was the extraordinary depth and sensitivity of the eyes that foiled him. He could see them as clearly as if he were looking into them and he longed to sink his own into the depths of their surrender. Jeff would be here any minute.

  The thought made his mind race in preparation. What had he said? What would he say? He had spoken of love and Jeff had acted as if he hadn’t heard him. Avoid commitments and declarations. Let their bodies speak for them until tomorrow when something would have to be said. There need be no secret of Jeff having slept here. He had told Martha he was coming, telling her of the circumstances in which they had found him. She had made a point of accepting it as quite natural that he should take care of him.

  He heard the thud of the front door below. All the surface of his body seemed instantly sensitized as if a thousand centers of erotic pleasure had flowered on his skin. He stood, naked except for the sarong hitched around his waist, and felt his sex stretch with the weight of desire. He crossed the room and opened the door. Jeff’s pace quickened to reach him across the dark adjoining room. Charlie closed the door after him and turned the key and opened his arms to the slim body that flung itself against him.

  Jeff’s hands were busy, disposing of the sarong, rushing to grasp rigid flesh. He wrenched his mouth away from Charlie’s and looked down at it. “It happens so quickly,” he said with wonder. “You’d suppose it would take time to get so enormous.” He removed his hands slowly and took a step back and continued to gaze at it as he began to unbutton his shirt.

  “How did everything go?” Charlie asked, moving toward him, wanting to engage his mind as well as his senses.

  Jeff retreated, his eyes still fixed on his sex. “It doesn’t matter much when I can look at that.” He turned and headed toward the bedside table where he knew the lubricant was kept, discarding clothes along the way. “Dad was fine. He really is a wonderful man. If you ever get a chance, tell him I said so.” He faced Charlie naked, a hand behind his back applying the lubricant, his eyes lowered and worshiping.

  The sight of the willowy angular body being unabashedly prepared to receive him engaged all of Charlie’s responsibility once more. So young. So damn defenseless. He wanted to protect him from further hurt. He stepped quickly to him and Jeff reached for his sex. He gripped it and gasped and closed his eyes.

  “God, yes. Once more,” he muttered as if to himself. He turned his back and lifted Charlie’s hands and put them on his chest and swayed into the circle of Charlie’s arms. His hair brushed softly against the side of Charlie’s face. “Once more and forever,” he whispered mysteriously. He pulled them forward and fell onto the bed, bringing Charlie down on top of him. “Oh God, Charlie, make me yours,” Jeff begged in a deep strangled voice. “Save me.” He burst into sobs again as their bodies began to struggle, locked in the combat that Jeff seemed to demand. There was a note of terror in his voice as he kept calling Charlie’s name. Charlie gripped him hard, digging his fingernails into spare flesh, tangling his fingers in his hair and beating his face down into the pillow as he fought to allay the terrible longing that remained in the body beneath him. Their orgasms were a wrenching interruption rather than a release. It left Charlie with a feeling of failure. The more passionately he gave himself, the more Jeff seemed to retreat into his wild secret sorrow.

  After he had rested briefly, he pulled away and sprang up and reached over for Jeff and hurried him into the bathroom. Perhaps connection would be made in small everyday acts. He pushed him under the shower and stood close to him while they washed. He thought of Peter this morning and of the sunny gaiety he generated between them. He thought of their being together tomorrow evening and of the joy they would share in resuming pleasures he had long denied them. His body tingled at the thought. What was he doing here with this boy? Did he seriously contemplate having two lovers, the lover of the dark, the lover of the light? Perhaps in another age or place it wouldn’t be so absurd, but here and now he had only a night and a day to find the dimensions of reality.

  Jeff’s great eyes were on his face now, fixed and still and contemplative. Charlie couldn’t bring himself to meet them. Jeff spoke. “If you knew what it does to me, being able to look at you at last, being with you like this so naturally. It devours me. I couldn’t survive it a week.” The words came from somewhere deep and remote in him, muffled and strangely passionless.

  Charlie put out a hand to him impulsively and gripped his neck and bowed his head so that their foreheads touched. He turned off the water and drew Jeff out of the shower. His sleek slim body seemed to have no will of its own in Charlie’s hands. His sex was erect once more.

  “I’m insatiable,” he said when Charlie released him and handed him a towel. There was no flirtatiousness in the statement; it was said as a melancholy fact. “You’re so young. I feel a hundred compared to you. I suppose i
t’s because you’re immortal.”

  “You talk such nonsense. I have some very mortal things to say to you.”

  “I love your gray hair. Every year when you first arrive you look so beautiful and distinguished. After you’ve been here a while, the sun makes it all streaked with gold and the gray doesn’t show any more.” He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers through the hair on Charlie’s temples.

  Charlie trembled within himself at the touch. This was as close as Jeff had come to recognizing him as a person. Perhaps it would happen now. Perhaps love would begin to flow out to him. He remained silent and motionless so as not to divert its course.

  “If only you could make me part of you, everything would be different,” Jeff went on musingly. “I mean literally, so that your great cock could be in me always. Today has made my life complete. I could never want anything more.”

  Their eyes met. Charlie felt as if he were falling into appalling depths of unappeasable longing. Every nerve and muscle and fiber in him wanted to clasp the boy to him and bring him peace. He broke the unbearable contact and finished drying himself hurriedly and took Jeff’s arm and led him back to the bed. They were both damp as they clamped themselves to each other and Charlie took the boy’s mouth gently and lingeringly. He was met with a passion that seemed to have no connection with anything Jeff said. Charlie drew away and rested his forehead on Jeff’s shoulder where he could see the marks of teeth.

  “I ought to go,” Jeff said.

  Charlie jerked his head up. “Don’t be silly. You’re staying the night.”

  Jeff lay with his eyes closed. “Peter would find out,” he said.

  “Jesus Christ,” Charlie exclaimed. “Don’t you understand? Peter’s got to find out something.”

  “You didn’t mean those things you said on the boat, did you?”

  “I usually mean what I say. We haven’t had a chance to talk. I want to now.” Despite his resolution to avoid declarations, he knew he had to speak to clear the confusion in his own mind.

  “Don’t. Please don’t. You must understand. This is all we can have. You know that.”

  “Why do I know that?” he protested, while part of him accepted the words with relief. It would be easier if Jeff clung to his curious detachment when they weren’t making love. So long as they were lying together, it seemed to matter less what happened tomorrow. Still, there were things he felt he should say, things that eluded him. The talk about gods created an aura of fantasy that he hadn’t penetrated and he felt it essential for Jeff’s sake that he should. The depths of despair he felt in him frightened him. He tightened his grip around him. “Jeff. Look at me.” He slowly opened his eyes. Again Charlie felt as if he were falling into them. For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The words finally came, strained and difficult. “I told you I love you. I’ve come awfully close to saying I’m in love with you, but I can’t because—well, because I’m in love with Peter and it’s supposed to be impossible to be in love with two people at once.”

  A faint smile played across Jeff’s lips. “That’s foolish. I could be in love with dozens of people at once. It’d be nice to hear it even if it doesn’t mean anything. It won’t make any difference. Believe me.”

  “All right. I’m—in love with you. I——” He had said the words to only one other person in his life. To say them now was a monstrous betrayal, but the fire soared up in him. He had never felt so exposed or carefree. He couldn’t think what else he had been going to say.

  Jeff’s smile became more pronounced. “I’ll never forget your saying it. That makes it really complete. I’ve had a very full life. I’ve been in love with a big theatrical celebrity. A famous painter says he’s in love with me. He’s made me his. Don’t ever tell Peter anything.”

  So much for the monstrous words. They didn’t mean anything. Jeff was making it easier for him than he wanted. “Don’t you realize I want him to know? Not about our making love. That’s something I’ve still got to think about. I mean, how to handle it, how to control it. But——”

  “I wondered if you were going to get around to that.” Laughter rumbled in his chest. “There’s nothing to think about. You’ll see. Your colossal cock. It’s taken me, once and for all. You don’t have to do it again.”

  “But you want it,” he exclaimed, still trying to fit Jeff’s behavior with his words.

  “Oh, God, yes. But I want so many things. Most of all, I want Peter to love me always. Not that I deserve it. He probably knew what was going to happen with us. He knew it was the only thing that might’ve kept me sane. He’s so damn sweet; I want to think he’d understand. I love him. I love you both as an indivisible pair. That must never change or nothing will ever make sense. Promise you’ll never let him know anything.”

  “How can I promise that? I’d have to promise not to see you again when he’s back.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Just remember, whatever happens, you’ve made my life complete. You’ve given me everything. Don’t ever think you could have given me more. This might not seem to make much sense to you now, but you’ll understand.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t always talk in riddles.” His eyes followed the curve of the boy’s mouth. He could feel his hard sex against him. He knew from the weight of his own that he would soon be ready to make love to him again, but he wanted to postpone another combat of their bodies until they had said things to each other that might take them a step toward a future he was trying to imagine and shape. He longed to bring a light to Jeff’s eyes and see them shine with youth and happiness. That was what this was really all about—leading him out of the shadow of despair—his mind committed to it as well as his body. “We’ve got to talk about simple things, like tomorrow and the next day,” he said. “One day, you’re going to fall in love with somebody your own age. That’s simple enough. Until you do, we’re here, Peter and I, loving you. You know Peter doesn’t want you, thank God, but I do. We’ve got all night to find out what we want from each other. Almost anything’s possible, except as you say, to let anything come between me and Peter. I know what I want most of all. I want to help you to be happy.”

  A smile still hovered around Jeff’s lips. “I don’t think I want to be happy, not the way people usually seem to mean. I can’t imagine settling down the way you’re supposed to, the way you and Peter have. I’m not good enough. I was with Dimitri this evening. I made him fuck me. It was the first time he’d ever done it with anybody.”

  Charlie stared at the nearly expressionless face, trying to absorb the words. His mind tried to reject them and then he was frantically disentangling himself from Jeff as if he were lying in a bed of glowing coals. He struggled up and flung himself headlong across the room to put space between them. Without knowing what he was doing, he retrieved his sarong and fastened it around him. There was a roaring in his ears. He bent over the desk and pounded on it with his fist. “You little shit,” he shouted. “Haven’t you understood anything? You’ve torn the guts out of me. I was ready to do anything for you. You talk about worship and you—you——” He choked on tears of rage.

  “I had to know,” Jeff said with limpid clarity. “If he hadn’t been able to do anything for me, I would’ve known I was all right. His cock is smaller than mine, but it was thrilling all the same. Nothing like you, of course, but he was a man exercising his masculinity in me. Because I worship you, I want to give myself to every beautiful man I find and discover the little bit of you that’s in him. I’d fill the world with a rage of male love. I know it’s impossible. I know I’d make a mess of myself, but that wouldn’t stop me. People go to church and worship their gods with hope and prayer, but when they leave they go on with their little mortal lives. You and Peter are my temple. You could never be my daily lot in life. Please remember, always. You’ve given me everything I could ever want or hope for.”

  “Get out. Go,” Charlie said dully while the pain of saying it ate into him until his legs would no longer hold him. He dropped int
o the chair at the desk and sat very straight with his fists clenched in front of him. The hurt in him was a sickness that unhinged his mind and paralyzed his senses. Why had he thought he could allow the caution of a lifetime to go unheeded? He wanted to tear the house apart. He wanted to beat Jeff. He had to keep himself very still to stave off violence.

  The flame Jeff had brought leaping up in him had seemed a precious gift of life; he had somehow convinced himself that it would cripple him to stamp it out. He would cultivate detachment once again; if he was to preserve himself for the long haul of the future, he must maintain an even keel, keep all fires banked.

  He had never considered jeopardizing his life with Peter. His thoughts had flown around the possibility of accommodations without having had time to come to grips with the practical problems involved. Peter would be back tomorrow. He could count on Peter. He thought of Martha last night and what had taken place in the hotel room this morning. Peter was his. He would be back, He had promised.

  Charlie’s ears had been deaf to Jeff’s movements in the room and he was startled by the proximity of his voice when he spoke.

  “I knew you wouldn’t want me again when I told you,” he said. “That’s the way it should be.”

  Charlie lifted his head, his expression neutral. Jeff was dressed and stood beside the desk. His long dark hair fell softly across his brow. His head had never been more beautiful. “You’re right, of course,” Charlie agreed with cool reserve.

  “All the same, I hope you don’t hate me. I’ve lived in my mind for too long. When I finally began doing things, nothing seemed to fit with what I expected. I’ve got to go a long way away where I won’t be at odds with life any more.”