Author's note: This story includes explicit sexual content, involving contact between an adult male and a boy below the age of consent. If you find this in any way offensive or distasteful, please read no further, and/or if it is illegal for you to read such material in your jurisdiction due to age or domicile, please read no further. The author does not condone or promote any illegal activity. This story is entirely a product of my imagination, no minors were involved in any way in its compilation, and the characters and actions portrayed are entirely fictitious. The characters in this story may not engage in safe sex, because, being fictitious, they don't need to. You, as a real person, do.
****
Shaun felt himself floating, seemingly unsupported, in mid-air. A momentary flicker of panic rose from the pit of his stomach, he was going to fall, but then he was calmed by a stronger, clearer thought, like words spoken by a solemn schoolmaster - 'You're dreaming'. He knew that thought must be correct, because the last thing he could remember before finding himself in this untenable position was going to bed in his flat, dog-tired after a long and busy day at work. He'd heard of lucid dreaming, and guessed that this must be what it was like, knowing you're dreaming while still within the dream, although it had never happened to him before. Having accepted the logic of the situation, he knew instinctively he could follow wherever the dream led, and he would be safe, because he was, in reality, just lying in his room, under a lightweight summer duvet. He continued to drift slowly downwards, with a movement which made him recall films he'd seen of airships landing, or docking, or whatever it was that airships did, manoeuvring, or being manoeuvred, gently, almost lazily on his intangible magic carpet. Finally, and just as lightly as a new-born infant being set in its crib, he felt his shoulders and back touch a surface, and his movement ceased.
Shaun looked around, curiously. He was in some kind of a room, but it was difficult to gauge its size, or even its height - all the walls and the ceiling, coloured cornflower blue, seemed strangely indeterminate, incorporeal, as though built of slabs of sky. The floor and the bed, or whatever it was, that he was lying on were white, but a rather matt shade, certainly not dazzling. That bed - it looked like marble, but rather than being cold and hard, it was slightly warm, and slightly yielding, just right for optimum comfort. When he swung his legs around and down, and his feet touched the floor, there was that same, uncanny perfection - whatever the material was, it had that slight internal warmth, and the feel of stepping onto a top of the range, deep pile carpet. He felt his clothing ripple around his body, and realised for the first time that he was wearing some kind of robe, about knee-length, made of a very fine silky material, but more than adequate given the warmth of the room that he was in.
Shaun was just starting to think about how realistic and lifelike were all of his sensations within this dream, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, to his left and almost behind his field of vision. He turned in that direction, and saw a figure moving towards him. Given the difficulty he'd had in assessing the size of the room, it was difficult initially to reliably tell how big or far away from him the person was, but his immediate impression was that it was someone smaller than himself, but dressed in a similar robe. After a second or two, it was apparent that Shaun's companion was a boy, around six inches shorter than himself, and with brown, tousled hair. As he looked more closely, his heart almost stopped. It wasn't just a boy, it was, to all appearances, the boy, the one he'd seen walking past his office window for the last four years, the one who had grown in that time from a pretty little boy in primary school uniform to a teenager on the very cusp of puberty, and, to Shaun's eyes, the most delightful creature he'd ever seen in his life. The boy stood and faced him, with a slight smile on his full lips.
"Hello, Shaun, welcome to Oneiros. You've only had a short journey, but it will probably seem to you to have been a long one, in terms of time and space. I know you're an intelligent man, so I'll explain to you in due course all the details of how and why you've come to be here. In the first place, though, you need to be aware of one main issue. The rules in this place are different from those you've been used to living with in your life to this point. The main practical difference that this will mean to you is that you don't need to hide your true feelings any longer. I can appreciate that this is a concept that will take some time for you to become accustomed to, so no pressure will be placed on you to change your behaviour, you can take as long as you need to get used to your new life."
Shaun heard the words, but they didn't initially penetrate his confused mind. He was still thinking of himself as being in a dream landscape, but the evidence of his senses seemed to be telling him that no dream, however vivid or lucid, could be this lifelike, this internally consistent. The boy hadn't moved, hadn't changed his expression, but, for all that, Shaun had the impression that his thoughts were being read like an open book. The boy spoke again, seeming to confirm that notion.
"Don't say anything yet, Shaun, you've arrived at a place beyond any of your previous experience. I'm not trying to patronise you, but just try to come to terms with one fact for the moment, and I can assure you that it is a fact - you're not dreaming. Perhaps this will help you."
The boy took a half step forward, reached up and tenderly put his arms around Shaun's neck before planting a gentle, melting, delightful kiss full on the man's lips. Shaun, like a condemned prisoner grasping at the last moments of his life, tried to let every millisecond of contact and sensation register, the yielding softness with hints of firmness beneath the boy's lips, the aroma of his skin, the very slight, subtle undertone of the mint taste of his lips and breath, the body warmth radiating across the few inches of air that separated their bodies, before the boy broke away from him and edged back to his former position, the faint smile still moulding the lower half of his face. Shaun was so enraptured, he almost forgot to breathe, until instinct took over, and a huge ragged sigh restarted the process. Questions began tumbling over each other in his head, all fighting for precedence, thrusting forward or dragging others back, which resulted in his being able to say nothing for long seconds, until the one question he really wanted the answer to, above all others, finally came to the fore.
"Are you...Josh?"
The last vestige of the smile on the boy's face faded, and he looked at Shaun gravely, as though he was a doctor about to deliver a worrying prognosis, to which he expected a strongly negative reaction.
"Shaun...it is so difficult to explain in terms that will make sense to you. As I said before, you are an intelligent man, and commendably open-minded, but you are not a quantum physicist, or, indeed, a scientist of any kind. Have you heard of ' the Everett interpretation'?"
Shaun shook his head. "The only Everett I've heard of," he smiled wanly, "is Rupert Everett, and I doubt you're talking about him!"
For the first time, the boy looked slightly nonplussed. "Who is Rupert Everett? Is he a friend of yours?"
No such luck, Shaun thought. "He's an actor, films mostly. Most of his stuff is probably a bit 'adult' for you - now I'm trying not to patronise!"
The boy regained his insouciant composure. "It's OK, I understand now. When did Rupert Everett become well-known on your br...in your life?"
"Early to mid-1980s, I guess - 'Another Country' was his first big hit, and that came out in about 1983 or 1984."
"I thought so - that explains why I haven't heard of him. The 'Everett interpretation' is a theory in quantum physics, which scientists here believe is correct, where there are an infinite number of parallel universes, making up a 'multiverse', and where, at each moment, new universes are born as quantum processes twist one way or another, unpredictably. Some of these universes are almost indistinguishable from each other, some are vastly different, and, with each passing moment, further quantum events happen which create new universes from the previous generation, and so on. It may not be immediately obvious to you, but the fact that there are an infinite number of universes means that anything not prohibited by the laws of physics not only can happen, but must happen. Each of these parallel universes is known to us as a 'branch', and on this branch, as you will have already guessed, certain things are substantially different from the branch that you are used to, while others are very similar. Which year were you born in?"
"1969" Shaun replied.
"That is another confirmation of what we believe about when our branch and yours diverged. It has proved to be impossible to pin these things down exactly, but the best evidence we have is that the 'bifurcation' - that is, the exact instant the paths divided, and one universe became two - occurred during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962. I don't know how much you know about your family history, but as far as we can tell from the information we were able to obtain from your branch, your parents met at a Christmas party in that same year."
"I knew my parents met at a party, but I wouldn't have been able to tell you more than that."
The boy nodded. "On this branch, your parents apparently didn't meet, but between October and December 1962, things changed quite radically in some ways between your branch and ours. In terms of your existence, because your parents didn't meet, you, obviously, weren't born. If you had been, we would not have been able to bring you here - one of our most sacrosanct ethical principles is that we never allow a situation to arise where someone on this branch might meet a 'doppelganger', even if the resemblance is only minimal. In contrast to your situation, my parents did meet as they had on your branch, and I was born in the same year and with a very similar genetic makeup, but there are still differences from the 'Josh' that you knew. You've doubtless realised that my vocabulary is not what you might have expected from a 13 year old, which is a function of our completely different educational system - we learn things at what you would consider to be a primary school age that are on a similar level to an undergraduate on your branch. Also, my views on what you might call 'morality' are shaped by our values, and my upbringing within that ethos, and are, again, considerably different from your previous experience. Perhaps the kiss we shared might provide you with food for thought in that respect. And finally, my name - I am called Andrew on this branch."
There was a clashing of mental gears for Shaun, as he began, slowly, to come to terms with what Andrew had told him. He wasn't dreaming, Andrew had said, so he really was in a room, or whatever this place was, with the boy, or a very close equivalent of the boy, who had dominated his waking life and his dreams for so long, and, more than that, he'd been told that he didn't have to hide his feelings, and the boy had given him a mind-numbingly wonderful kiss. After all the years, a quarter of a century and more, of hiding, denial and rigorous self-control, could he allow himself to believe? Surely there had to be a catch somewhere, was this some kind of entrapment scheme, where as soon as he reached out towards Andrew, sirens would blare, lights flash and handcuffs click? Or had that part of the story already happened, and was he now in some kind of 'Ministry of Love'-style institution where his 'perversion' was going to be burnt out of him, by physical or mental torture?
He closed his eyes, and buried his face in his hands, staring into the sparkling darkness behind his eyelids for long moments while thinking of something, anything, to say.
"Come and sit down, Shaun. I can only imagine how difficult and strange all of this is for you - it would be the same for me, I would guess, if I'd been brought to your branch." The boy took Shaun's hand, and gently guided him back to the 'bed', which seemed to now have become transformed into a spacious two-seat sofa, or loveseat. They sat, side by side, close but not touching.
"Andrew...I can't think what to make of all this, it is so strange, as you said, and I'm full of a thousand questions at the moment. First of all, though, one question that's very important to me, coming from where I have and from what my life has been like, since I was your age, really. Are you here with me because you want to be?"
"Of course! I was closely involved in the process that led to you being brought to Oneiros. Part of the way that our society is structured is that it is recognised that every individual has a perfect soulmate. That soulmate may not always actually exist on our branch, but because of our technological capabilities, we have the opportunity to cast the net more widely. There may be rare occasions when that perfect match cannot be made, even in the vastness of the multiverse, because there are limits to how far from this branch that our technology can reliably reach, or there may be an ethical bar to bringing someone's soulmate here - they may be too closely related to someone else here, or they may have commitments in their 'home' branch that we have no wish to disturb - but in my case, and yours, no such obstacles exist. You have no close family, or other personal responsibilities of that sort, and our matching processes have identified that not only are you my perfect partner, but that I am yours. You may well think that I, and my civilisation, are being ridiculously presumptuous in plucking you from home and hearth and bringing you to somewhere very different, but these things are never undertaken on a whim - this process has been ongoing for almost four years, and every possible criterion has been considered. This isn't some kind of hit-or-miss computer dating agency, it's a complete assessment of two individuals' intellect, instincts and personalities, which I have undergone just as thoroughly as you, the only difference being that I was aware of the process taking place, because it's part of everyone's life here, whereas you were being observed from a distance, as it were. You haven't been abducted - if you don't wish to remain here, there is no compulsion, you can be returned to the exact time and place on your branch from where we transferred you, with or without the memories of your time here, as you choose. I would be sad if you chose to return, because I've come to know you so well over the last few years, but my feelings are not important in this context, your freedom of choice is paramount. I would return to the search, either here or elsewhere - there are doubtless other 'nearly-Shauns' out there, and I would set about finding the next best option. And I would be happy, you need have no fear of 'ruining my life' if you want to return to your branch, you can be completely and utterly self-centred in your decision. Please let me say one thing to you, though, even if it's selfish on my part to say it - I love you, and I think you could come to love me."
Once again, Shaun was struck dumb, even the maelstrom of his thoughts was largely quenched - the only reverberations in his head were those three words 'I love you', over and over again, and his deep-rooted response 'It can't be true, these things don't happen in real life'. Andrew reached out and took Shaun's hand again, holding it lightly but, as Shaun somehow felt, decisively, using the physical contact to make a statement, rather than using words that might not have breached the wall of Shaun's confusion and disbelief.
"Shaun." The sound of his name didn't initially rouse the man from his introspection. "Shaun, I'd like to ask you a favour."
"Sorry, Andrew, I'm still having problems with this scenario. While I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that I appear to have been spirited away to a parallel universe, the boy of my dreams tells me he loves me, and I'm flung onto a whole new level of unreality. A favour, of course, anything I'm capable of."
"I'd like to be closer to you, can you swing your legs up onto the couch if I stand up for a moment?"
Shaun nodded, and shifted his position as the boy had asked. Andrew climbed astride his midriff, before laying on top of the man, putting his arms around Shaun's neck once again. Their faces were very close, so close it was hard for Shaun to focus his eyes properly on the boy, and he could sense the same, faint mint note as before emanating from Andrew's mouth. Once again, the boy's lips found their way to Shaun's, and the man shuddered as he was the recipient of another gut-wrenchingly sensuous kiss, then another. Even if his partner hadn't been who it was, the mere physical contact was almost overwhelming. Shaun had never been this close to a boy in his adult life, he'd always steered well clear of any such contact, knowing how he would react, but now, he'd gone from one extreme to the other, from nothing to everything all at once. He knew what was going to happen, but could do nothing to stop himself, the slight friction of the garment he was wearing was more than enough to set off the most explosive orgasm of the man's life, accompanied by a disembodied groan, almost inhuman sounding, dredged from deep within the darkest recesses of the self that had been hidden from his world for so long. On and on it echoed through his body, longer than he would ever have believed possible, but as the ecstasy ebbed away, torrents of guilt and shame rushed in to take its place, what had he done? Everything would be ruined, paradise lost before even being gained. The intensity of his emotions, of everything that had happened in the last few, short minutes engulfed his mind and he collapsed into wretched, gulping sobs, like a toddler, completely shorn of any self-control at all. Andrew gasped, sitting up and putting his hands on Shaun's shoulders, trying to begin to reassure the man that it was OK, it was all understandable, to calm down, this was Oneiros, not his world, it was what he, Andrew, really wanted, please calm down, everything is fine, I'm fine, I want you to be fine, too, don't cry, please don't cry....
There was no way of gauging the time, but Shaun thought later that it must have been at least fifteen minutes before he felt himself able to speak. Andrew had moved from the sofa to the floor, and had wrapped himself around Shaun from his right side, his arms around the man's shoulders, his lovely face resting against Shaun's cheek, whispering words of love and solace into the man's ear, lifting himself up from time to time to wipe away the tears that were still seeping, now soundlessly, from Shaun's eyes, although even the silky, gentle touch of Andrew's thumbs on his cheeks was enough, in his fragile state, to elicit another surge of lachrymose emotion from the man.
Andrew held his breath for a few moments, trying to work out if Shaun had calmed down enough for him to speak. He almost got to the point of being ready to talk to the man, but Shaun forestalled him.
"I'm sorry, Andrew...sorry for what happened, and sorry for how I reacted. It's just that I've been waiting for so long, held so much inside..."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Shaun. I'm the one who should be apologising, I was greedy, impatient - I've been waiting, too, but only for a little while, not half a lifetime and more, like you. I've made a big mistake, and I don't deserve you. I wouldn't blame you if you asked to go back to your branch right away."
The boy made to move away, but Shaun caught his arm, and gently drew him back into his body. "Don't go, darling boy, please...I just need a little more time, a little more acclimatisation, everything will be alright...I think." Shaun gave the boy a tiny, almost chaste peck on the cheek, born of deep affection rather than any kind of lust, and Andrew smiled broadly.
"I was right, Shaun...when we were finding out about you, I said I thought you were the nicest man in the multiverse, and I was right!"
****
Author's footnote: This story was going to be longer, but after last night's meltdown, I don't feel it's right to go on with it. The story is, in a way, part of the problem, because it's brought my most cherished fantasy out of its hiding place. Not just a boy, but the boy.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Shaun looked around, curiously. He was in some kind of a room, but it was difficult to gauge its size, or even its height - all the walls and the ceiling, coloured cornflower blue, seemed strangely indeterminate, incorporeal, as though built of slabs of sky. The floor and the bed, or whatever it was, that he was lying on were white, but a rather matt shade, certainly not dazzling. That bed - it looked like marble, but rather than being cold and hard, it was slightly warm, and slightly yielding, just right for optimum comfort. When he swung his legs around and down, and his feet touched the floor, there was that same, uncanny perfection - whatever the material was, it had that slight internal warmth, and the feel of stepping onto a top of the range, deep pile carpet. He felt his clothing ripple around his body, and realised for the first time that he was wearing some kind of robe, about knee-length, made of a very fine silky material, but more than adequate given the warmth of the room that he was in.
Shaun was just starting to think about how realistic and lifelike were all of his sensations within this dream, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, to his left and almost behind his field of vision. He turned in that direction, and saw a figure moving towards him. Given the difficulty he'd had in assessing the size of the room, it was difficult initially to reliably tell how big or far away from him the person was, but his immediate impression was that it was someone smaller than himself, but dressed in a similar robe. After a second or two, it was apparent that Shaun's companion was a boy, around six inches shorter than himself, and with brown, tousled hair. As he looked more closely, his heart almost stopped. It wasn't just a boy, it was, to all appearances, the boy, the one he'd seen walking past his office window for the last four years, the one who had grown in that time from a pretty little boy in primary school uniform to a teenager on the very cusp of puberty, and, to Shaun's eyes, the most delightful creature he'd ever seen in his life. The boy stood and faced him, with a slight smile on his full lips.
"Hello, Shaun, welcome to Oneiros. You've only had a short journey, but it will probably seem to you to have been a long one, in terms of time and space. I know you're an intelligent man, so I'll explain to you in due course all the details of how and why you've come to be here. In the first place, though, you need to be aware of one main issue. The rules in this place are different from those you've been used to living with in your life to this point. The main practical difference that this will mean to you is that you don't need to hide your true feelings any longer. I can appreciate that this is a concept that will take some time for you to become accustomed to, so no pressure will be placed on you to change your behaviour, you can take as long as you need to get used to your new life."
Shaun heard the words, but they didn't initially penetrate his confused mind. He was still thinking of himself as being in a dream landscape, but the evidence of his senses seemed to be telling him that no dream, however vivid or lucid, could be this lifelike, this internally consistent. The boy hadn't moved, hadn't changed his expression, but, for all that, Shaun had the impression that his thoughts were being read like an open book. The boy spoke again, seeming to confirm that notion.
"Don't say anything yet, Shaun, you've arrived at a place beyond any of your previous experience. I'm not trying to patronise you, but just try to come to terms with one fact for the moment, and I can assure you that it is a fact - you're not dreaming. Perhaps this will help you."
The boy took a half step forward, reached up and tenderly put his arms around Shaun's neck before planting a gentle, melting, delightful kiss full on the man's lips. Shaun, like a condemned prisoner grasping at the last moments of his life, tried to let every millisecond of contact and sensation register, the yielding softness with hints of firmness beneath the boy's lips, the aroma of his skin, the very slight, subtle undertone of the mint taste of his lips and breath, the body warmth radiating across the few inches of air that separated their bodies, before the boy broke away from him and edged back to his former position, the faint smile still moulding the lower half of his face. Shaun was so enraptured, he almost forgot to breathe, until instinct took over, and a huge ragged sigh restarted the process. Questions began tumbling over each other in his head, all fighting for precedence, thrusting forward or dragging others back, which resulted in his being able to say nothing for long seconds, until the one question he really wanted the answer to, above all others, finally came to the fore.
"Are you...Josh?"
The last vestige of the smile on the boy's face faded, and he looked at Shaun gravely, as though he was a doctor about to deliver a worrying prognosis, to which he expected a strongly negative reaction.
"Shaun...it is so difficult to explain in terms that will make sense to you. As I said before, you are an intelligent man, and commendably open-minded, but you are not a quantum physicist, or, indeed, a scientist of any kind. Have you heard of ' the Everett interpretation'?"
Shaun shook his head. "The only Everett I've heard of," he smiled wanly, "is Rupert Everett, and I doubt you're talking about him!"
For the first time, the boy looked slightly nonplussed. "Who is Rupert Everett? Is he a friend of yours?"
No such luck, Shaun thought. "He's an actor, films mostly. Most of his stuff is probably a bit 'adult' for you - now I'm trying not to patronise!"
The boy regained his insouciant composure. "It's OK, I understand now. When did Rupert Everett become well-known on your br...in your life?"
"Early to mid-1980s, I guess - 'Another Country' was his first big hit, and that came out in about 1983 or 1984."
"I thought so - that explains why I haven't heard of him. The 'Everett interpretation' is a theory in quantum physics, which scientists here believe is correct, where there are an infinite number of parallel universes, making up a 'multiverse', and where, at each moment, new universes are born as quantum processes twist one way or another, unpredictably. Some of these universes are almost indistinguishable from each other, some are vastly different, and, with each passing moment, further quantum events happen which create new universes from the previous generation, and so on. It may not be immediately obvious to you, but the fact that there are an infinite number of universes means that anything not prohibited by the laws of physics not only can happen, but must happen. Each of these parallel universes is known to us as a 'branch', and on this branch, as you will have already guessed, certain things are substantially different from the branch that you are used to, while others are very similar. Which year were you born in?"
"1969" Shaun replied.
"That is another confirmation of what we believe about when our branch and yours diverged. It has proved to be impossible to pin these things down exactly, but the best evidence we have is that the 'bifurcation' - that is, the exact instant the paths divided, and one universe became two - occurred during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962. I don't know how much you know about your family history, but as far as we can tell from the information we were able to obtain from your branch, your parents met at a Christmas party in that same year."
"I knew my parents met at a party, but I wouldn't have been able to tell you more than that."
The boy nodded. "On this branch, your parents apparently didn't meet, but between October and December 1962, things changed quite radically in some ways between your branch and ours. In terms of your existence, because your parents didn't meet, you, obviously, weren't born. If you had been, we would not have been able to bring you here - one of our most sacrosanct ethical principles is that we never allow a situation to arise where someone on this branch might meet a 'doppelganger', even if the resemblance is only minimal. In contrast to your situation, my parents did meet as they had on your branch, and I was born in the same year and with a very similar genetic makeup, but there are still differences from the 'Josh' that you knew. You've doubtless realised that my vocabulary is not what you might have expected from a 13 year old, which is a function of our completely different educational system - we learn things at what you would consider to be a primary school age that are on a similar level to an undergraduate on your branch. Also, my views on what you might call 'morality' are shaped by our values, and my upbringing within that ethos, and are, again, considerably different from your previous experience. Perhaps the kiss we shared might provide you with food for thought in that respect. And finally, my name - I am called Andrew on this branch."
There was a clashing of mental gears for Shaun, as he began, slowly, to come to terms with what Andrew had told him. He wasn't dreaming, Andrew had said, so he really was in a room, or whatever this place was, with the boy, or a very close equivalent of the boy, who had dominated his waking life and his dreams for so long, and, more than that, he'd been told that he didn't have to hide his feelings, and the boy had given him a mind-numbingly wonderful kiss. After all the years, a quarter of a century and more, of hiding, denial and rigorous self-control, could he allow himself to believe? Surely there had to be a catch somewhere, was this some kind of entrapment scheme, where as soon as he reached out towards Andrew, sirens would blare, lights flash and handcuffs click? Or had that part of the story already happened, and was he now in some kind of 'Ministry of Love'-style institution where his 'perversion' was going to be burnt out of him, by physical or mental torture?
He closed his eyes, and buried his face in his hands, staring into the sparkling darkness behind his eyelids for long moments while thinking of something, anything, to say.
"Come and sit down, Shaun. I can only imagine how difficult and strange all of this is for you - it would be the same for me, I would guess, if I'd been brought to your branch." The boy took Shaun's hand, and gently guided him back to the 'bed', which seemed to now have become transformed into a spacious two-seat sofa, or loveseat. They sat, side by side, close but not touching.
"Andrew...I can't think what to make of all this, it is so strange, as you said, and I'm full of a thousand questions at the moment. First of all, though, one question that's very important to me, coming from where I have and from what my life has been like, since I was your age, really. Are you here with me because you want to be?"
"Of course! I was closely involved in the process that led to you being brought to Oneiros. Part of the way that our society is structured is that it is recognised that every individual has a perfect soulmate. That soulmate may not always actually exist on our branch, but because of our technological capabilities, we have the opportunity to cast the net more widely. There may be rare occasions when that perfect match cannot be made, even in the vastness of the multiverse, because there are limits to how far from this branch that our technology can reliably reach, or there may be an ethical bar to bringing someone's soulmate here - they may be too closely related to someone else here, or they may have commitments in their 'home' branch that we have no wish to disturb - but in my case, and yours, no such obstacles exist. You have no close family, or other personal responsibilities of that sort, and our matching processes have identified that not only are you my perfect partner, but that I am yours. You may well think that I, and my civilisation, are being ridiculously presumptuous in plucking you from home and hearth and bringing you to somewhere very different, but these things are never undertaken on a whim - this process has been ongoing for almost four years, and every possible criterion has been considered. This isn't some kind of hit-or-miss computer dating agency, it's a complete assessment of two individuals' intellect, instincts and personalities, which I have undergone just as thoroughly as you, the only difference being that I was aware of the process taking place, because it's part of everyone's life here, whereas you were being observed from a distance, as it were. You haven't been abducted - if you don't wish to remain here, there is no compulsion, you can be returned to the exact time and place on your branch from where we transferred you, with or without the memories of your time here, as you choose. I would be sad if you chose to return, because I've come to know you so well over the last few years, but my feelings are not important in this context, your freedom of choice is paramount. I would return to the search, either here or elsewhere - there are doubtless other 'nearly-Shauns' out there, and I would set about finding the next best option. And I would be happy, you need have no fear of 'ruining my life' if you want to return to your branch, you can be completely and utterly self-centred in your decision. Please let me say one thing to you, though, even if it's selfish on my part to say it - I love you, and I think you could come to love me."
Once again, Shaun was struck dumb, even the maelstrom of his thoughts was largely quenched - the only reverberations in his head were those three words 'I love you', over and over again, and his deep-rooted response 'It can't be true, these things don't happen in real life'. Andrew reached out and took Shaun's hand again, holding it lightly but, as Shaun somehow felt, decisively, using the physical contact to make a statement, rather than using words that might not have breached the wall of Shaun's confusion and disbelief.
"Shaun." The sound of his name didn't initially rouse the man from his introspection. "Shaun, I'd like to ask you a favour."
"Sorry, Andrew, I'm still having problems with this scenario. While I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that I appear to have been spirited away to a parallel universe, the boy of my dreams tells me he loves me, and I'm flung onto a whole new level of unreality. A favour, of course, anything I'm capable of."
"I'd like to be closer to you, can you swing your legs up onto the couch if I stand up for a moment?"
Shaun nodded, and shifted his position as the boy had asked. Andrew climbed astride his midriff, before laying on top of the man, putting his arms around Shaun's neck once again. Their faces were very close, so close it was hard for Shaun to focus his eyes properly on the boy, and he could sense the same, faint mint note as before emanating from Andrew's mouth. Once again, the boy's lips found their way to Shaun's, and the man shuddered as he was the recipient of another gut-wrenchingly sensuous kiss, then another. Even if his partner hadn't been who it was, the mere physical contact was almost overwhelming. Shaun had never been this close to a boy in his adult life, he'd always steered well clear of any such contact, knowing how he would react, but now, he'd gone from one extreme to the other, from nothing to everything all at once. He knew what was going to happen, but could do nothing to stop himself, the slight friction of the garment he was wearing was more than enough to set off the most explosive orgasm of the man's life, accompanied by a disembodied groan, almost inhuman sounding, dredged from deep within the darkest recesses of the self that had been hidden from his world for so long. On and on it echoed through his body, longer than he would ever have believed possible, but as the ecstasy ebbed away, torrents of guilt and shame rushed in to take its place, what had he done? Everything would be ruined, paradise lost before even being gained. The intensity of his emotions, of everything that had happened in the last few, short minutes engulfed his mind and he collapsed into wretched, gulping sobs, like a toddler, completely shorn of any self-control at all. Andrew gasped, sitting up and putting his hands on Shaun's shoulders, trying to begin to reassure the man that it was OK, it was all understandable, to calm down, this was Oneiros, not his world, it was what he, Andrew, really wanted, please calm down, everything is fine, I'm fine, I want you to be fine, too, don't cry, please don't cry....
There was no way of gauging the time, but Shaun thought later that it must have been at least fifteen minutes before he felt himself able to speak. Andrew had moved from the sofa to the floor, and had wrapped himself around Shaun from his right side, his arms around the man's shoulders, his lovely face resting against Shaun's cheek, whispering words of love and solace into the man's ear, lifting himself up from time to time to wipe away the tears that were still seeping, now soundlessly, from Shaun's eyes, although even the silky, gentle touch of Andrew's thumbs on his cheeks was enough, in his fragile state, to elicit another surge of lachrymose emotion from the man.
Andrew held his breath for a few moments, trying to work out if Shaun had calmed down enough for him to speak. He almost got to the point of being ready to talk to the man, but Shaun forestalled him.
"I'm sorry, Andrew...sorry for what happened, and sorry for how I reacted. It's just that I've been waiting for so long, held so much inside..."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Shaun. I'm the one who should be apologising, I was greedy, impatient - I've been waiting, too, but only for a little while, not half a lifetime and more, like you. I've made a big mistake, and I don't deserve you. I wouldn't blame you if you asked to go back to your branch right away."
The boy made to move away, but Shaun caught his arm, and gently drew him back into his body. "Don't go, darling boy, please...I just need a little more time, a little more acclimatisation, everything will be alright...I think." Shaun gave the boy a tiny, almost chaste peck on the cheek, born of deep affection rather than any kind of lust, and Andrew smiled broadly.
"I was right, Shaun...when we were finding out about you, I said I thought you were the nicest man in the multiverse, and I was right!"
****
Author's footnote: This story was going to be longer, but after last night's meltdown, I don't feel it's right to go on with it. The story is, in a way, part of the problem, because it's brought my most cherished fantasy out of its hiding place. Not just a boy, but the boy.
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Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Delightful fantasy.
ReplyDeleteHello Brian
ReplyDeleteThank you. There's a little bit more to it for me, though - but there's probably been enough said about that for the moment.
Love & best wishes
Sammy B