The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel

by Patrick C Notchtree

  "Hiya, Daniel," said Simon hesitantly, catching his friend's mood.

  "Hiya," said Daniel curtly.

  "What's the matter?"

  "Layton, that's what's the matter, if you want to know," came Daniel's gruff response. "Come on, let's go."

  As the two walked up the hill, Simon wondered what had happened to upset Daniel. He could guess, because Daniel had talked of Layton before, and indeed when Simon had gone to watch and cheer Daniel on at swimming galas, he had seen the boy in question, undoubtedly a big and strong swimmer.

  "He is older than you, though, isn't he?" offered Simon in consolation.

  "Not the point, I'm better than him." Daniel hated not being first.

  "But it was just a practice, though?"

  "Again, not the point. And it is for the county team."

  They walked on in silence until they got to the corner.

  "See you later?" said Simon cautiously.

  Daniel stopped. "I'm sorry, Simon, it's not your fault. You were waiting for me and all I've done is be bad tempered with you. Come in with me. Please?"

  "'Course I will," said Simon, gratified. So they went to Daniel's house and entered through the back door into the kitchen. Mrs Gray was there, putting things in her handbag.

  "Hello, darling, how did you get on?"

  "Don't ask," said Daniel, dropping his bag and taking off his coat. Mrs Gray looked questioningly at Simon.

  "That Layton again, I think, Mrs Gray," said Simon.

  "Oh darling, what happened?" she said to her morose fourteen year old son.

  "I came second in backstroke AND butterfly," grumbled Daniel.

  "Front crawl?"

  "Oh I won that of course, by miles. But I wanted to beat Layton in backstroke especially."

  "Well, you can't win everything, Daniel. What about the county? You are in the team?"

  "Yes," said Daniel, "first two go through."

  "You mean you're on the team for all three strokes?" said Simon, wondering why in that case Daniel was so upset.

  "Yes," said Daniel, a bit defensively now. "It's just that I really wanted to beat Layton in something other than crawl. And the county gala is in two weeks. Easter Saturday."

  "Well," said Mrs Gray, "nobody can question that you're the best when it comes to the crawl, and you're in the team for the others as well. You've done very well."

  "Oh, I suppose so. I took it out on Simon a bit too," he admitted, mellowing somewhat now.

  "It's OK," said Simon. "You stink of chlorine, anyway." And it was true. The chlorine of the swimming pool was now evident in the warm kitchen.

  "Oh," said Daniel, "yes, there was a lot in the water today."

  "Well, anyway boys," said Mrs Gray, "I'm going into town for a couple of hours, will you try not to burn the house down?"

  "Where's Dad and Louise?" asked Daniel quickly.

  "Dad won't be home until this evening, Louise probably won't be back until late. She went out with Sarah and that lot. I think she's seeing Graham later. You'd better do something about that chlorine." With that, Mrs Gray took up her handbag, put on her coat and left to get the bus.

  "Better take your coat off," said Daniel to Simon once the two were alone. Simon did so.

  "Back room," Daniel commanded. Simon knew what was coming. When Daniel felt frustrated, he would play the piano, venting his frustration into the music.

  "Rachmaninoff, I think," said Daniel, rummaging among the music books. "Sit," he ordered Simon, patting the piano stool. Simon sat next to Daniel. To him, the mass of tightly packed notes meant nothing, except that the tune went higher when the notes went up. But when Daniel said "Turn", Simon's job was to turn the page.

  Daniel paused, and then with a burst of sound began to play. The three dark opening chords matching his mood. Simon loved the Russian music, its emotion, its soaring drive and rhythms, its complexity, but especially he loved it because Daniel loved it and played it. He watched Daniel's hands, those large, strong but somehow delicate hands, sweeping across the keys, his legs as he pedalled, raising and lowering allowing the sound to crescendo, killing it when he wanted. His passion and feeling, even anger, going into the poignant chords as the piece reached its climax, and then subsiding, its work done. Simon watched with a mixture of admiration and envy, turning the pages on command. Daniel's face expressing the feeling in the music. The piece ended. Daniel stopped, panting slightly.

  "That's better," he said. "Did you like it? I played that for you."

  "Of course I did."

  "Good. The prelude in C sharp minor, Opus 3, number 2.

  "I do recognise the prelude," Simon said. "Quite apart from it saying at the top of the page. Why do you like Rachmaninoff so much?"

  "It matches my mood. He's an amazing composer, especially for piano. And it's very challenging, hard to play. When I was younger my hands were too small but Mum adapted his music for me, but my hands are bigger now. So I like to master it. There's a part of that where there is so much fingering, he used double staves to fit all the notes in. That took me ages to learn. But listen to this one," he said, thumbing the music book, "It's a bit more cheerful, now I'm feeling better."

  The next piece was different in tone, but Simon could see that it was a hard piece, Prelude Op. 23 No. 5, according to the book. The music danced, Simon almost felt like clapping along with it, and this time Daniel was smiling slightly as he played it, glancing at Simon to see his reaction. Simon knew this was being played for him too.

  "Do you like that one?" asked Daniel as he finished.

  "Yes, it's a bit more cheerful than the C sharp one."

  "C sharp minor," corrected Daniel. "I have to work on that last one, I made a couple of mistakes. Can you still smell the chlorine?"

  "I didn't notice any mistakes," said Simon, but he knew how Daniel always strove for perfection. "And you do reek a bit."

  Daniel sniffed. "Suppose I do a bit." He went into the kitchen and checked the Aga. "I'll have a bath." Turning to Simon, he added mischievously, "Want to come and wash my back?"

  Simon smiled and nodded, followed Daniel upstairs, where he started to run the bath. Simon sat on Daniel's big bed and watched as his friend undressed, completely unselfconscious with Simon. In Simon's eyes, he was the most beautiful creature walking on God's Earth. In the bathroom, Daniel tested the water and then climbed in and sat down.

  "That's good," he said, and lay back, allowing the hot water to swirl around him and over his chest. Simon perched on the side of the bath. Daniel lay further back and submerged his head, his hair floating out, momentarily reminding Simon of the lido when they were younger. Daniel blew bubbles up at Simon and then surfaced, pushing his now wet hair back, and lay back again.

  "I can't do your back with you lying on it," Simon pointed out.

  "You get in," said Daniel.

  "There's not room."

  "I'll make room. Come on. They're all out. Let's have a bath together."

  At that, Simon quickly undressed, watched by Daniel, both boys now becoming aroused with the anticipation of this novel arena. Daniel sat up and Simon got in, facing Daniel, their legs overlapping each other.

  "Ah!" exclaimed Simon as the cold tap touched his back. "I've got the tap end. It's cold."

  "Well, don't lean on it then, idiot," said Daniel, with that wide grin on his face for the first time since getting off the bus. He reached forward and pulled Simon close, their hands exploring each other. Simon reached round and started to rub Daniel's back.

  "Simon, what are you doing?"

  "Washing your back. Or trying to. It's a bit awkward. Turn round."

  With some splashing and difficulty in the confines of the bathtub, Daniel turned and sat, knees drawn up, with Simon behind him, his legs either side of Daniel. But Simon was pushed back against the cold tap again.

  "This is too awkward," he complained.

  "They manage in the films," said Daniel.

  "Have you seen the size of the baths they ha
ve, though?" countered Simon. He kissed the wet nape of Daniel's neck, who responded by running his hand up the inside of Simon's thigh.

  "You're right," said Daniel, "I think the chlorine will have washed off now anyway. Let's get dried off."

  They both climbed out, and stood together, dripping. Daniel took up a bath towel and started to dry himself down.

  "What towel can I use?" asked Simon.

  "Better share this one. Too many wet towels might look odd."

  So they dried themselves and each other, using the ends of the large towel. Daniel hung it on the towel rail. "Come on, bring your clothes." Daniel led the way into his bedroom, closing the door. Simon dumped his clothes by Daniel's heap on the floor. Daniel lay on the bed and beckoned him.

  "Come on, then. After this morning, I need this."

  Simon joined Daniel and they lay arms round each other.

  "Let's get in," said Daniel. They both climbed under the sheet and blankets. It was warmer and Simon always loved being in Daniel's big bed with him. It was warm, safe and like a loving cocoon.

  Daniel propped up on one elbow, looked down at Simon's head on the pillow, put his arm round the back of Simon's neck and leaning down, kissed him, their lips exploring each other, Simon's hands in Daniel's now almost dry hair, arousal heightening, Daniel running his hand down Simon's back to his thighs, Simon responding.

  They used their bodies to pleasure the other, the joy each found in the other's body ending with mutual climax, each drinking the fruit of the other's loins. And as so often, they sang the chorus of what they had come to think of as their private song, certainly in this sense, in celebration of their shared joy.

  Fire! fire! fire down below;

  Fetch a bucket of water, boys, There's fire down below!

  As they lay together afterwards, Daniel said, "You always make me feel better. I know I get too tense sometimes. You're good for me."

  "And you for me," said Simon.

  "You do like doing this?"

  "Yes, you know I do. Why are you asking about that again?"

  "I feel a bit guilty I suppose."

  "Guilty? What about?" asked Simon, puzzled.

  "Ages ago, when we first started, going to the den and that, one reason why I liked it was because …" Daniel stopped.

  "What?"

  "I was the boss, telling you what to do, it made me feel kind of powerful."

  "That's all right."

  "No, Simon, it's not. It's almost like I was using you, and I'm really sorry. You're worth more than that."

  "Honest Daniel, it's OK. I never felt used. Just safe and looked after. Maybe I was using you in my own way. You've always been there for me and you've never let me down, ever. No apology required."

  "If you ever do feel like that, used I mean, tell me, won't you?"

  "OK, but I know you never would. You're just not like that, and this proves it."

  "Well, I was a bit worried about it," continued Daniel, "especially now I am sometimes going into you. If you're not happy about it, I would feel as though I was using you."

  "No," reiterated Simon. "It's super. It feels right and you know I sometimes come just from the way you are in me. I like it when you come there as well. I know I've got you for longer in a kind of way." Simon had never heard of the prostate but was very aware of its highly erogenous effect when stimulated! He turned and kissed Daniel. "No more apologies, right?"

  "Right. Thank you, Simon. You're an amazing friend to have. Do I still smell of chlorine?"

  Simon moved closer and drew in breath on Daniel's shoulder. There was no chlorine, all Simon could smell was the masculine scent of him that he found so exciting. But all he said was, "No. You smell normal now."

  "Good," said Daniel, "so do you."

  "I didn't smell of chlorine in the first place."

  "So? You still smell normal."

  Simon laughed, but it was cut short by a shout from downstairs.

  "Daniel? Are you in?"

  "It's Louise, shhh," said Daniel. They heard Louise coming up the stairs. Simon instinctively clung closer to Daniel's warm body. Louise seemed to stop outside the door.

  "I didn't lock the door," whispered Daniel anxiously, fearful that his eighteen year old sister would just come in.

  "Daniel, are you in there?" came from the other side of the door. Daniel knew he would have to answer.

  "Yes. Got back from swimming."

  "D'you make the team? Silly question."

  "Yes, three events."

  "Three? Good," Louise said. "Simon in there with you?"

  For a moment Daniel wondered what to say, just in time remembering Simon's coat on the chair in the kitchen.

  "Yeah. We're OK," he called back from the bed, praying Louise would not open the door.

  "I'm sure you are," answered Louise. "I've just come back for some things. I'm off out again. Mum in town?"

  "Yes," said Daniel, he and Simon still locked in unmoving embrace.

  "OK bruvver." They heard Louise go to her room. A few minutes of movement during the which the two boys didn't stir, and then footsteps on the landing outside the door.

  "I'm off then. See you later."

  "Bye!" called Daniel.

  "Bye!" Louise paused. "Bye Simon!"

  Daniel nudged Simon, nodding.

  "Bye!" shouted Simon, hoping the nervousness in his voice wouldn't show. They heard Louise going downstairs and a few moments later, the front door closing. Both boys exhaled and relaxed their grip on each other.

  "That was close," said Simon.

  "You can say that again!"

  "That was close," said Simon, smiling now, and then getting poked by Daniel for deliberately taking him literally. The two remained in that warm cocoon for an hour longer, relaxing in their closeness and talking, of the county swimming gala - "Of course I'll be there!" said Simon – of Simon's athletics – "I bet you win the 100 yards again," said Daniel. "I will if you're watching," said Simon. "Try and stop me," said Daniel – of school and plans for the coming Easter holiday, including more time like this. Holidays, when both Daniel's parents were at work, presented the best chance for the two to use Daniel's bed. When Daniel said his mother might be back soon, they reluctantly relinquished their warm nest and got dressed.

  Simon watched Daniel with Mr and Mrs Gray and Louise from the spectator seats as he sped through the water to win the county front crawl well in front of the next boy, Daniel waving up at them as he climbed out of the pool. He came second again in the backstroke and butterfly heats, losing the final place to Layton, but he went on to star in the four length relay. His team were in third place after three lengths, and Daniel was to swim the final part. Simon watched as Daniel, face set in determination and concentration, was poised on the edge, waiting for his teammate to touch, risking disqualification if he dived too early. As soon as the boy touched, Daniel dived over the boy's head, but well behind the leader who was already powering away. Simon looked on agitated with excitement and anxiety, as Daniel's powerful, lithe body cut through the water leaving barely a ripple, the muscles on his back, arms and legs working hard to make up the deficit, his skin glistening as the water coursed across it. Simon couldn't see Daniel's face as his breathing side was away from him, but he could visualise the look of resolve he knew so well. By half the length Daniel had pulled almost level, the leader seeing this redoubling his efforts, but it was neck and neck as they neared the end. Everybody was now on their feet yelling. Simon was shouting "Come on Daniel!" at the top of his voice. In the last yards, Daniel eased in front to touch an arm's length ahead. The crowd roared at the excitement of the race and the home club's victory. After a pause in the water while other swimmers finished, Daniel leapt out of the water and stood on the pool edge. He waved at his family and Simon, exhilarated. He hadn't won all his races, but he had helped his team win the county gala overall. Daniel was pleased, and so was Simon.

  1959/6 Scouts

  That Spring there were further ch
anges at Scouts. The Troop Leader John Riley was now old enough for Venture Scouts and moved on. Daniel was convinced that either Nigel Colley, Patrol Leader of the Falcons or Christopher Gerrard of the Kestrels would be promoted. It turned out that Christopher Gerrard was only four months away from leaving for Ventures anyway, but still Colley was a bit older than Daniel but had not been a PL for as long. Daniel said that Gerrard had been offered it for the four months, but had said it would be added disruption for the troop to have another change so quickly and he wanted to spend those months with his beloved Kestrels. As with promotion to Patrol Leader, Daniel again beat Nigel Colley to the prize, his prophesy of three years earlier that he would be Troop Leader one day coming true.

  Simon sat with Daniel in his bedroom while he unpicked the scout badge from his uniform shirt pocket so that he could sew on the third white stripe in the centre. The badge was then sewn on again over the top so that the stripe went underneath it.

  "I told you I'd be Troop Leader one day," said a confident Daniel. "Remember? That first time I carried the flag and you came along to watch?"

  "Yes," said Simon. "What about Colley though? He's older than you but now you outrank him."

  "He'll be OK. He's a good scout. I can manage that OK as well."

  "I expect you will," said Simon, poking Daniel. "I feel sorry for him though, with all those spots." Nigel Colley was cursed by acne. One or two of the scouts were suffering this teenage pain, but Colley was the worst afflicted.

  "Must be rotten," said Daniel. "I've never said anything and I don't think anyone else has. I expect he's very self conscious about it."

  "I'm glad we haven't got spots. I'd hate to be all spotty."

  "Some kids get them like Colley, others get hardly any. My Dad says it runs in families, but he didn't have it so maybe that's why I don't."

  "You've got really nice skin," said Simon. "I'll have to ask my Dad if he had them."

  "So have you. Some kids in my year need a shave already," said Daniel, rubbing his still smooth chin. "I suppose that will happen one day."

  "Me too, I suppose. Does Colley shave? It must be dead awkward with spots."