And the Greatest of
These is Love
By Lone-Wolf Dedicated to all those I have called friend, and to all those who I call friend, who don’t care: particularly those I truly Loved - - - and those I still Love - - - An Important note to the Reader : This is a work of Fiction! The persons, places, events, and dialogue are entirely the product of the author’s imagination, and must be regarded as such. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and accidental. All brand names mentioned are the property of the company who manufactures them, and they are used only for clarity.
Dale Burdette stopped pedaling his Diamond-Back BMX race-bike and coasted to a stop at the side of the dirt trail. He was thirteen and a half years old, but still looked to be twelve and a half or so. His body was lean and lithe, all skin and muscle. Not muscular, per se, but well sculpted. He was not a “wimp”, but neither was he a “jock”. He would have been a non-entity, if not for the rumor around school that he was gay.
Dale, of course, knew the rumor was true, and even suspected that he knew who had started it. The guilty boy was named Paul Smith, and was the same age as Dale. They had been friends for almost a year when the camping incident occurred.
They had camped out in Dale’s back yard last summer, and were looking at some porno magazines that Paul had liberated from his older brother’s room. As they studied the action in the magazines, they had talked about which activities interested them most. One thing led to another, and by midnight they had both tried oral and anal intercourse on each other.
Dale had participated because he loved Paul deeply. Paul had participated because he wanted to have sex, but didn’t have the luxury of a girl friend to make out with.
They had sworn to keep their ‘experiment’ a secret, but less than a month later that fall at school the rumor had begun. Nobody openly gave him much grief, since it was still just a rumor. But nobody much wanted to be seen hanging out with him, in case it turned out to be true.
Dale hoped that his new hobby of BMX bicycle racing might garner him some positive press with his peers, if he could win some races. So he spent most of his free time trail riding to sharpen his skills and build up his stamina. This was his motivation for being out riding the trails today.
Dale’s hazel eyes, peering through too much long, thick, shaggy brown hair, followed the trail as it wound up to the top of Mount Richardson. The peak of the geologic cancer rose some four hundred feet into the noonday sky, and hardly qualified as a mountain - but still the name stuck. It was one of many hills in the terrain around the small Midwest town Dale lived in. It held the distinction of being the one with the greatest number of dirt-bike trails, which were unique unto themselves in that they were some of the steepest and most challenging trails in the Midwest.
Dale unclipped his water-bottle from the frame of his bike and sipped economically of its contents, which were getting warmish. He heard the clatter of a chain on sprockets, and turned to see who was coming up behind him.
As Dale watched, another boy, astride a Torker II BMX bicycle, appeared around the bend and skidded to a stop directly behind Dale. The Torker’s rear wheel kicked a shower of dirt at Dale as its rider kicked out the back wheel for the quick stop.
Dale’s heart clenched in his chest, momentarily stopping his lungs from working as well. The boy riding up on him was the only boy in the school, or even the town, that Dale really, truly loved. There was no rational reason for his affection, since the other boy seemed to dislike him as much as all of their peers. But Dale did love him, with all of his heart, and body, and mind. He knew without a doubt that he would willingly give his life for this boy: Would volunteer to be tortured to death if it would save this boy. More than anything in the world, Dale wanted this boy to love him back.
"Don’t!" Dale clipped, brushing the dirt from his stomach and shorts.
"Whatsa' matter, Daley-boy? Can't take a little dirt?" the other boy teased him mercilessly. “That is a dirt bike, isn’t it?”
The boy’s name was Beryle Masche’, and he was nine months older than Dale at age fourteen and a quarter. Beryle was also infamous at their school, but not because of any sexual orientation rumor. Beryle was famous for being the most over-confident, self-centered, macho punk of the BMX circle. He was rumored to be a cheat, and seemed proud of it. He also prided himself on claiming to be the only boy in town to have "made it" with a girl before finishing seventh grade. Dale was convinced that the latter was a fictional tale Beryle had concocted to hide the fact that he was as queer as Dale was. But that was only a theory, and Dale had no proof to back his assumption.
"Not in my water," Dale replied, trying to sound angry.
"Not in my water," mimicked Beryle, smiling unpleasantly. He was wearing the same clothes he always wore: Nike cross-trainers, blue nylon swim trunks, and a silver stud in his pierced left ear (which was usually hidden by his hair).
His long, thick, blond-brown hair was cut in bangs just above his eyes; the cut then slanted steeply back and down, covering his ears completely, and touching his tanned shoulders in back.
His skin was evenly tanned, as he almost never wore shirts or long pants, and his body was just as lithe and lean and slender as Dale’s. Also, his eyes were the same shade of hazel as Dale’s. Dale thought Beryle was perfect in every way, with the single exception of the boy’s foul attitude. But Dale’s love for Beryle was unconditional, and he loved the boy in spite of the foul attitude, and coarse teasing. Most people saw only malice in Beryle’s hazel eyes, but Dale saw something else - contrary to what common sense dictated.
"Why do you act like that?" Dale asked bluntly, without thinking.
"Act like what, fart-brains?" Beryle asked, tugging on his bike’s chain experimentally to check its tension.
"Like you hate everybody," Dale said simply. He managed to catch Beryle off guard with the remark, so he continued. "Maybe if you treated people like friends, you might have a few friends,” Dale stated.
There was a brief moment of silence, while Beryle recovered from his surprise at Dale’s sudden show of bravado.
"Kiss my ass," Beryle retorted. "Who asked you, anyways?"
"I did," Dale replied. "`Cause I'm stupid enough to like you, even when you keep acting like a jerk all the time."
“What did you say?” Beryle asked, clearly meaning the part about him acting like a jerk all the time.
But Dale chose to ignore the obvious, and focus on the part that mattered to him.
“I said, I like you, Beryle. Why else would I put up with your attitude?” Dale asked, wondering where his sudden streak of boldness had come from. Perhaps he hoped Beryle would attack him and wrestle him down – then at least he would have a legitimate excuse to put his arms around the boy he was in love with.
Beryle regarded him through squinted eyes for a moment, as if pondering how he should react to Dale’s latest revelation. “The way I hear it, you’re gay,” Beryle sneered. “So maybe you just like my dick, hmmm?” the blond boy teased cruelly, grabbing his crotch.
Dale felt his bold streak growing with his anger. “You know what, Beryle? You’re freakin’ right! I’m queer as a three dollar bill, okay? And you know what else? I love you, Beryle! I love you so much it hurts every time I look at you! Did you know that? Did you know that I love you more than myself, even? That I’d die for you, Beryle? Did you?” raved Dale, his voice rising steadily as his tirade gained momentum. “I don’t know why I love you: God knows you’re meaner to me than anyone else I know! But I can’t stop loving you any more than I can stop breathing, Beryle! So go ahead and beat me up now! You know you want to. And I won’t try to stop you, either! I love you too much to hit you back,” Dale went on, sounding a little like a Baptist minister or a politician on a rampage. “And yeah, you’re right about your cock, too! Every night I dream about you making love to me! Or even raping me! When I jack off it’s YOU I fantasize about! I’d give my left nut to suck your cock, Beryle! I’d let you come in my mouth! Hell, I WANT you to come in my mouth!” Dale blurted angrily. “I’d let you do anything you wanted to me, Beryle! I’d be your full-time, permanent sex-slave! Did you know that, Beryle? Did you?” Dale exclaimed vehemently. “And you know what else? I think you’re just as gay as I am! You never stuck your dick in Cindy’s snatch! You never even saw her naked! You made that whole story up to hide the truth, so nobody will know that you’re just a queer as wimpy little Daley-boy Burdette! That’s what I think!” Dale finished, hands on his hips, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.
For almost half a minute, Beryle was speechless: he looked like he wanted to say something, but was too flabbergasted to find any words at first. Apparently Dale’s unexpected tirade had shocked him as much as it had shocked Dale.
“I don’t know what you’ve been smoking,” Beryle said finally. “But if you got any left, I’ll flip you for it.”
“You tryin’ to say you’re straight?” Dale replied evenly.
“You can say that again,” Beryle sneered. “Ain’t no way my dick is going into another boy.”
“You’re lying,” Dale accused coolly, his fever cooling a bit.
"You're such a wimp," Beryle sighed, shaking his head.
"Fine! If you're so heterosexual, let's see you beat me to the top of Mount Richardson," challenged Dale boldly.
"Why should I?" asked Beryle. "Any dipshit in diapers could beat you!"
"Then you won't mind staking something on the outcome?" Dale asked, grinning slyly.
"Name your price," Beryle sneered arrogantly, unable to back down now.
"If you win, you get to beat the shit out of me, and I promise to stay out of your life, and leave you alone, from now on," Dale explained. "But if I win, you have to fuck my ass until you almost come, and then fuck my face until you do come! Every week! From now until you turn twenty-one!” Dale snapped.
"Say what?" Beryle asked, his jaw dropping.
"Losing your nerve?" asked Dale tauntingly. ”Afraid you might lose?”
"No!" Beryle retorted. "I'll even give you a fuckin’ head-start!" Dale leisurely clipped his water bottle back onto the frame of his bike. "You're wasting your head-start," Beryle spat, clearly frustrated.
"See you at the top, Butt-Buddy," Dale grinned, before mounting his Diamond Back and vanishing quickly up the trail, leaving a bewildered Beryle in his wake.
Beryle waited for about three more seconds, then laid into his pedals and set off in hot pursuit of Dale. The trail was a constant up-hill, consisting of switch-backs spliced together with hair-pin turns, so it was really more of a stamina test than a speed test.
Beryle finally managed to get Dale into sight, but he could not seem to gain on him. Dale’s bike was better maintained than Beryle's, and Dale had just quenched his thirst. Beryle was already winded when he started, and Dale had a good hundred yards head start on him at first.
About half way up the incline Beryle had finally managed to gain a position just behind Dale. He was too tired to pass Dale, and Dale was too tired to pull ahead; so they fought their way up the hill.
Both boys tired steadily, and their pace grew slower and slower. When they finally wheezed to a stop at the crest, they were both too winded to speak, so they simply collapsed on the ground beside their bikes and lay in the grass, panting raggedly.
Eventually Dale sat up and pulled his water-bottle from his frame. He drank deeply, then looked over at Beryle. Beryle's bare chest glistened with sweat, and he was eyeing the bottle out of the corner of his eye. Dale held out the bottle to Beryle.
"I don't want your damn water," rasped Beryle hoarsely.
"Take it," Dale said. "Or I'll tell the guys I beat you to the top of Mount Richardson." Beryle stared at him, then snatched the bottle away and drank, forgetting to conceal his relief.
“You forgot to wipe off the fag-germs,” Dale pointed out, smiling. Beryle’s eyes widened, but he didn’t stop drinking for several more seconds.
“I heard it’s not contagious,” Beryle panted, when he finally came up for air.
“Well, I can hope, can’t I?” Dale asked, not smiling.
“Sure. Why not?” Beryle shrugged, taking another sip of the water.
“You ready to pay up on our bet?” Dale asked, point blank, deciding he should assert his rights as winner before the other boy tried to renege.
“You can’t be serious,” Beryle scoffed, trying to call Dale’s bluff.
“Of course I’m serious,” Dale stated flatly. “If you had won, you’d be pounding my face in by now, wouldn’t you?” Dale accused blandly.
“I sure would!!” Beryle snapped angrily. He saw Dale’s shoulders sag as he spoke; and for the first time in his life he reconsidered. “Okay, I suppose I wouldn’t beat you up for no reason,” Beryle admitted, glad nobody else was around to hear him say it. Dale sat up straighter, and stared at him.
“Good try, Beryle,” Dale replied, smiling thinly. “But I’m still making you pay up.”
“Get real,” Beryle sighed. “Every week? From now until I turn twenty one?” he guffawed, squinting.
“Yup. Starting now,” Dale added firmly.
“Now?” Beryle queried, shocked. “Here? And now?” he added dazedly.
“Here and now, Beryle. Pay up,” Dale insisted, his heart hammering wildly in his chest at the control he had over the boy he wanted desperately.
“Someone will see!” Beryle argued foolishly.
“Fat chance. We’d hear them coming a hundred yards away, easy,” Dale pointed out truthfully.
“Well, maybe,” Beryle sighed. “But I bet you don’t have any of that KY Jelly stuff in your fanny pack,” the bully pointed out hopefully.
“Actually, I don’t,” Dale sighed. “So I guess we’ll just skip the first part this time, and go straight to the blow job.”
“You’re serious?” Beryle insisted, lowering his voice. “You honest to god want me to cum in your mouth?” he asked with awe.
“More than anything else in the world,” Dale admitted. “Except for one thing.”
“What one thing?” Beryle wondered out loud, actually curious. Dale stared at him for several long seconds, as if deciding if he would answer or not.
“The thing I want most in the world,” Dale confessed, slowly and very softly, forcing the other boy to lean closer to hear him. “Is for you to Love Me as much as I Love you, Beryle,” Dale admitted softly, his eyes locked firmly on Beryle’s. Beryle could tell that Dale was not lying – the boy’s eyes were burning with passion and resolve. They were also glistening wetly, as if Dale was about to cry. Beryle didn’t know what to say – nobody had ever loved him before – much less with the total conviction this boy obviously held for him.
Dale watched the expression on Beryle’s face, but couldn’t read it after all. Finally he broke the silence himself. “So, would you rather do it standing up, holding my head, and fucking my face?” Dale asked point blank. “Or would you rather just lay back, close your eyes, and let me do all the work,” Dale offered, giving Beryle the choice.
Beryle gulped, and stared at him blankly for a long moment. “I – I guess I’ll just lie back an’ let you do the work,” the older boy said haltingly.
“That’s cool,” Dale nodded, actually pleased, but not willing to let the other boy know. “So get naked,” he urged Beryle, after several seconds passed without any action on the older boy’s part.
“You first,” Beryle challenged him lamely, gulping nervously. Dale shrugged, hooked his thumbs in the waist band of his Addidas gym shorts ( and the Hanes y-fronts underneath ) and shoved them all the way down to his ankles! Dale’s penis wasn’t fully hard yet, but it was getting there in a hurry, Beryle noticed. He also noticed that Dale’s member had no prepuce; only a dark scar where the foreskin had been surgically removed. Lastly, he noticed that Dale’s groin was still devoid of pubic hair.
“Your turn,” Dale smiled lustfully, kneeling down next to Beryle.
Having no choice any more, Beryle reluctantly raised his butt up off the ground and slid his shorts down almost to his knees. His own penis was still limp and flaccid, the fireman’s helmet fully encased in his intact prepuce, surrounded by all seven of his blond pubic hairs. The hairs were so new that they had not even begun to curl yet.
“Didn’t know mine’s intact, did ya?” Beryle asked, disdain in his voice. “Thought mine would be cut, like yours, eh?” he added snidely.
“I figured it was probably cut,” Dale admitted. “But I was hoping it wasn’t,” he added, making eye contact with Beryle again.
“So – you like foreskin, then?” Beryle asked, sounding disappointed.
“I love foreskin!” Dale lisped. “I wish mine wasn’t cut,” he added dejectedly. “You’re so lucky, Beryle,” Dale whispered. Nobody had ever accused Beryle of being lucky, before, either, the bully realized dimly.
Dale sat down beside Beryle and gently fingered the older boy’s limp penis, his fingers trembling visibly with his excitement at what he was about to do. He had dreamed of it for so long that it seemed almost surreal, now that it was about to become reality!
Beryle was torn. On the one hand, he was hoping his penis would get stiff, so Dale could suck him off; he had never had any sexual relations up to this point, and he was eager to end his virginity. But on the other hand he was hoping it wouldn’t get stiff, so Dale wouldn’t be able to collect on their bet – at least not so soon. But that got him to wondering if he couldn’t have won the race if he had really tried. He had tried to win, hadn’t he? He didn’t really want Dale to make love to him, did he? It was all so confusing. Then Dale’s fingers were gently fondling his penis, and Beryle felt himself beginning to grow erect, and there was no longer any point in debating.
Within thirty seconds, Beryle’s penis was completely and totally erected, throbbing at its full four and a half inch length. Its bright red fireman’s helmet was already poking halfway out of its snug foreskin, glistening wetly.
Deciding fore-play was redundant at this point, and being most desperate to fulfill his fantasy, Dale used his thumb and fore-finger to retract Beryle’s awesome fore-skin, fully exposing his flushed red glans, glistening with pre-cum. He tugged the excess skin down to the base of the boy’s rock-hard cock, and trapped it there with his fingers, making Beryle’s cock look almost like it was circumcised. He could feel Beryle shaking wildly as he touched the boy’s swollen penis, and knew Beryle’s heart was beating as fast as his was. Then, overcome with love and lust, Dale impaled his face on Beryle’s four and one half inch erection.
Beryle gasped involuntarily as Dale’s hot, wet lips encircled his virgin penis. Dale’s mouth moved down smoothly, engulfing Beryle’s swollen member in the wet heat of the younger boy’s mouth. Beryle had never in his life felt anything remotely as wonderful as the sensations coming from his boy-erection at this moment. The wet heat of Dale’s mouth was so fantastic that Beryle was afraid he might climax right then. But his practice of masturbating two or three times a day saved him by permitting him just enough control to keep from achieving a premature ejaculation.
Dale shuddered as he moved his lips down the length of Beryle’s firm shaft, the boy’s thick penis filling Dale’s mouth perfectly. Ever since he had first laid eyes on this boy he had wanted to do this for him - now, at last, he was living his dream. Beryle’s penis filled Dale’s mouth with the delicious, sharp, salty-musky taste of urine, smegma, sweat, and pre-cum, all blended together. This was the best taste in the whole world, Dale realized, as his salivary glands opened up and added to the volume of flavorful liquid.
“Oh, Dale,” whispered Beryle urgently, as he felt the younger boy’s lips contact his belly, every millimeter of Beryle’s twitching boyhood engulfed inside of Dale’s mouth. Then Dale applied suction, and Beryle thought he might pass out, the pleasure was so extreme.
Beryle shivered again, as Dale’s tongue, teeth, and palate all worked together to pleasure Beryle’s swollen sex organ. At the same time, Dale’s fingers gently kneaded Beryle’s nuts inside their constricting sack of velvety skin.
Dale paced himself, going slowly, and deeply, at first, resisting the urge to just go wild and bring the other boy off. Very gradually, Dale increased the speed of his pumping, shortening the strokes slightly as well.
It was almost three minutes before Beryle finally felt the first stages of impending orgasm. Dale felt the involuntary twitches in Beryle’s cock, and knew that the other boy was growing close to the stages just prior to climax. But he still didn’t let himself cut loose just yet.
As Beryle grew more and more excited, Dale pumped steadily faster, and sucked gradually harder and harder. Beryle shuddered involuntarily as he felt his orgasm beginning to grow imminent. For ten or twelve interminable seconds, Beryle hung there, hovering on the very brink of release, his body trembling with anticipation .... Then he felt himself pass the point of no return. His orgasm blossomed like a skyrocket, his lithe body going rigid in total ecstasy as he climaxed explosively!
Dale felt Beryle’s body go taut, and knew the boy had achieved orgasm. Frantically Dale stroked the corona’ of Beryle’s cock-head rapidly with his tongue, bent on maximizing the boy’s pleasure. A couple seconds later Beryle’s cock spasmed rhythmically as he ejaculated spastically, his pulsing penis squirting again and again and again in Dale’s suctioning mouth!
Beryle’s thick, sticky semen erupted from his pulsing peter, coating Dale’s tongue with its strong, musky flavor. Beryle writhed in ecstasy as he shot not 6, not 7, but 8 thick juicy gobs of hot spunk into Dale’s waiting mouth. The orgasm seemed to go on longer than he was accustomed to, and he reveled in the extra two spurts.
Even when Beryle’s nuts were voided, Dale kept on sucking his now super-sensitized glans, making Beryle writhe in post-orgasmic pleasure, his young body trembling wildly.
Finally Beryle’s pleasure ebbed, and his cock began to soften. Dale slowly savored his mouthful of juvenile sperm, swallowing it a little at a time, until all the taste was finally consumed. Only then did he finally release Beryle’s shrinking peter. He watched intently as it retreated into its protective fore-skin.
“Oh, Dale,” sighed Beryle, still recovering from the release of his orgasm. “You really know how to do that GOOD.”
“I’d like to say practice makes perfect,” Dale panted, smiling. “But that was my first time,” he admitted, having decided that Paul didn’t count; in more ways than just this one.
“Then how’d you know how to do it so good?” Beryle wondered.
“I read a lot of stories on boy-love sites, on the internet,” Dale explained.
“Wow,” was all Beryle could think of to say.
“I’ll be right back,” Dale told Beryle. “I got to go take a leak.”
“Knock yourself out,” Beryle replied absently, still coming down from the heights of his orgasm, and marveling at the fact that Dale had been the one to take him to those heights.
Dale climbed to his feet and walked over behind a large bush, where he planned to take a whiz. He was not prepared for what he found. There was something waiting for him – something that looked more or less like a man. But “he” was wearing flowing grey robes, which didn’t seem to be made from any material Dale had ever seen before. The other odd thing was that the “man’s” feet were about three or four inches above the ground! The ‘man’ looked down at Dale benevolently.
Dale didn't know how, but he knew he had nothing to fear - although he couldn't seem to move or speak. Dale knew the figure wasn't human.
"Hello, Dale," the man greeted him. "I am Gabriel."
"The Angel Gabriel," Dale replied, suddenly able to speak.
“Well, I was an angel. But as you can see my robes are not white any more, so I am no longer in HIS good graces,” the “man” explained.
“Then – you – you work for the other guy? Lucifer?” Dale asked, wondering why his legs would not obey his mind and flee.
“No,” Gabriel said at once. “If I did, these robes would be black, and I would no longer appear in human form,” the fallen angel explained.
“Then – who do you work for?” Dale wondered.
“People like you, Dale,” the angel smiled. “People who love with all their heart, but love another of the same sex, which falls short of HIS laws.”
“Can you make me straight? Is that why you’re here?” Dale wondered.
“No, dear boy. You are what you are. Only HE could change that; and HE doesn’t work that way,” Gabriel explained.
“Then why am I being allowed to see you?” Dale asked curiously.
“On many occasions you have voiced your willingness to die for the boy you just made love to,” Gabriel reminded Dale. Dale gulped, but nodded. “Today is the day I must put that claim to the test,” the fallen angel stated.
“Beryle is going to die today?” Dale intuited, his throat constricting.
“Yes,” Gabriel explained gently. “The storm that is coming in will cause a tree to fall on him, as the two of you make your way down the trail.”
“But you wouldn’t be telling me this unless there is something we can do about it,” Dale realized pointedly.
“Yes,” the angel agreed. “It is within my powers to allow you to take his place.”
“What’s in it for me?” Dale wondered conversationally.
“Only the chance to prove that your love for him is greater than your love for yourself. That, and the satisfaction of knowing he will live,” the angel said.
“You know I wouldn’t want to live if Beryle was dead,” Dale stated.
“I am completely aware of the depth of your love for him,” the angel nodded. “Otherwise I would not be offering you this opportunity.”
“Then you know I will agree to take his place,” Dale stated.
“I suspected that you would,” the angel nodded. “But it is your choice. I have no power to sway your decision either way.”
“Will you allow me to say goodbye, before – you know?” Dale begged.
“I will,” the angel agreed. “You deserve that much, at least.”
“Then I will take his place,” Dale said, his teeth clicking. “How do we do it?” he asked.
“Just ride down the trail with Beryle. I will handle the technical aspects for you,” Gabriel promised. “You are a brave and loyal boy, Dale,” the angel noted, clearly impressed.
Dale didn’t know how to answer that, so he only gulped and shrugged. Then he was alone again, wondering if he had been hallucinating. He aimed his penis and drained his bladder into the weeds as he replayed the conversation over and over in his mind. Finally he decided it had to be real, and he hurried back to where Beryle was waiting for him.
Dale trotted back over to Beryle nervously as fat rain-drops began to fall. "Where have you been?" Beryle asked. He looked at Dale more closely. "What's wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you stoned?"
"I'm alright," Dale replied. "We gotta' get back down. The rain's gonna' make the trail slippery,” Dale noted, pulling his briefs back on, followed by his shorts.
"Maybe I ain't ready to go," Beryle said callously, no longer sure why he was still treating Dale like a second class person.
"Dammit, Beryle! I don't have time to argue with you! I'm going back down that hill, and you're coming with me!" Dale stated forcefully. Beryle sensed the determination in Dale’s voice; almost an urgency. He pulled his own underwear and shorts back up as he regained his feet.
“You gonna’ make me?” Beryle challenged, reverting to his set ways.
“Damn right I’m gonna’ make you!” Dale snapped, getting up in Beryle’s face.
“Why?” Beryle scoffed, surprised yet again by little Daley’s bravery.
“Because I Love you, stupid! Don’t you get it yet?” Dale whimpered, suddenly and inexplicably on the verge of breaking into tears.
"Okay, okay," Beryle sighed. "Chill out, kid,” he added, picking up his bike.
"My name is Dale. Friends don't call each other Kid,” Dale pleaded.
"I'm not exactly your friend by choice, remember," Beryle replied, still unable to accept the notion that he felt any affection for Dale, even though, deep down, he was beginning to know that he did.
"Maybe not," Dale retorted. "But I'm yours, whether you like it or not!" He mounted his bike and started down the hill. Beryle blinked in surprise, and headed after Dale, his emotions spinning. No matter how rude he was to Dale, the boy just kept on wanting Beryle to like him. And the boy just kept on loving him, Beryle realized. That was what they called unconditional love, he remembered suddenly: when the other person loved you no matter how rotten you treated them. He had never been loved that way before, but he was beginning to like it, he realized. He wondered if he could ever love anybody that way?
Dale counted the turns, wondering which one would be his last. He was terrified, in a way, yet determined to follow through with the plot. He could not imagine life without Beryle; his love for the blond boy defined his life, and without Beryle life would not be worth living, he knew.
Both boys were riding their brakes the whole way, their block treaded tires slipping and sliding in the ever thinning mud that used to be the trail.
Half way down, Beryle's wheels locked up, but he slid onwards. Dale swerved to let him pass, but wiped out in the process. Beryle managed to stop a little ways down the trail.
"You alright?" he called to Dale, wiping the rain from his eyes, his long hair already soaked.
"Yeah," Dale called back, righting his bicycle. "Keep going!" The pair struggled down the hill, spattered with mud and sliding wildly most of the way. At some point Dale passed Beryle again, so that he was leading, and Beryle was following him.
They were nearly at the bottom, within sight of flat ground, when Beryle saw the huge tree crack and fall. The wind was such that the tree was falling directly across the trail. He glanced down, to see if Dale had seen the tree, and at once knew that Dale would be unable to get out of the way. He opened his mouth and yelled at Dale to stop, or turn, or something; but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the tree hitting the ground; and Dale.
Dale didn’t see the tree coming until a split second before it struck him. He expected it to hurt, but he blacked out on impact, and didn’t feel the trunk crush him and his bike against the ground.
Beryle locked up his brakes and skidded to a stop, dropping his bike heedlessly in his rush to reach the boy he had verbally abused for so long. Beryle knelt down and pulled a leafy branch out of the way, so he could get to Dale. Then he could see that Dale’s body was pinned, with his bicycle, between the tree trunk and the ground. And there was blood; so much blood. A moan escaped Beryle’s throat as he watched the muddy water flowing from under his lover turn a brilliant red with the other boy’s blood. A second reason for his moan was that somewhere in the back of his mind Beryle had finally admitted to himself that he was in fact just as gay as Dale was, and even more importantly, that he loved Dale.
Beryle sat down and scooted in as close as he could, until he was able to cradle Dale’s head in his lap. Gently he used one finger to part Dale’s wet hair to either side of his forehead, the raindrops still wetting them both.
“Please wake up, Dale,” Beryle sobbed, not even noticing that he was crying; something tough guys like him never did.
As if in answer to his prayer, Dale’s eyes fluttered open, and slowly focused on Beryle’s face. His lips formed a smile, Beryle saw.
“You stopped to help me,” Dale panted hoarsely.
“Of course. I'm your friend, remember?" Beryle told him, stroking Dale’s cheek tenderly; something he had never done for anyone ever before.
“You are?” Dale asked, sounding amazed.
“Your best friend,” Beryle clarified, only now realizing that he was in fact speaking the truth finally. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize it,” he moaned, disgusted with himself.
“Oh, Beryle! I knew you would come around! I just knew it” Dale grinned happily. “If only it hadn’t taken so long.”
“I’m sorry, Dale! I am such a total shit!” Beryle groaned.
“No, Beryle,” Dale argued weakly. “You’re not,” Dale insisted. “But, I think I’m running out of time,” he realized, as he lost feeling in his arms and legs. “So cold,” he whispered softly, his eyes glazing over.
“No, Dale! Don’t go! Stay with me!” Beryle begged frantically. Dale didn’t respond, which made Beryle even more frantic. “I love you Dale! I love you! Don’t’ go!” he cried with anguish, knowing his words were true.
“I love you too, Beryle,” Dale swore, his eyes clearing for a moment. “That’s why I have to go now.”
Before Beryle could respond, he was left cradling his dead friend's head in his lap, as the rain continued to run down his face. He started to get up, so he could give Dale mouth to mouth resuscitation, but the volume of blood told him it would make no difference. Slowly it dawned on him that he had just lost the only friend he had ever had; and the only person who ever truly loved him.
The grief was crushing. Beryle lowered his cheek to Dale’s face, crying bitterly for his loss; a loss he was only beginning to realize the size of.
Beryle cried for a long time. He had no way of knowing how long, for time was the last thing on his mind. But after a while he became slowly aware of the fact that he was no longer alone.
Slowly, Beryle lifted his face and looked up. To his amazement, there was a man standing beside them. Well, not a man. Not really. Because the man’s feet were four or five inches above the ground, Beryle noticed. He wore grey robes that seemed to magically repel the raindrops, so that the man remained completely dry, despite the downpour. Beryle slowly realized that the man was not a man at all, but something else. Something not of this world.
“Who are you?” Beryle asked timidly, shy for the first time in his life.
“I am Gabriel,” the being told him.
“An angel?” Beryle asked, jumping to the obvious conclusion.
“Formerly,” Gabriel admitted. “But not any more. Hence, the grey robes, and no wings,” the being pointed out. “But I am not here to talk about myself,” the ‘man’ went on. “But about the one you hold in your arms.”
“His name’s Dale,” Beryle said, his voice hitching as he fought the need to cry.
“He was your friend?” Gabriel asked curiously.
“More than that,” Beryle sobbed. “He was my Best Friend, and my lover! He was the only person who ever loved me. And I was never even nice to him! Not ever!” Beryle moaned, wondering why he was so eager to spill his guts to a being he didn’t even know.
“He loved you?” Gabriel asked. Beryle nodded, tears blurring his vision. “Did you love him?” the angel asked.
“Yes!” Beryle replied at once. “I didn’t figure it out until just before he died, but yes. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
“More than you love yourself?” the angel asked.
“Yes!” Beryle whimpered forcefully.
“Are you certain?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes!” Beryle sobbed.
“What would you give to have him alive again?” the angel asked pointedly.
“Anything,” Beryle sobbed. “Everything!”
“Even your own life?” Gabriel asked softly. Beryle looked up and met the angel’s eyes, wondering what he was getting at.
“Yes. Even my own life,” Beryle whispered. “Dale deserves to live. I don’t. He is a wonderful, patient, loving friend. I’m just a sack of shit.”
“Dale thought otherwise,” Gabriel stated firmly. “He died in your place.”
Beryle opened his mouth to argue, but said nothing as the truth of the statement sunk in. He remembered Dale’s tirade at the bottom of the hill, when the boy had come right out and said that he would die for Beryle.
“And you let him do it, didn’t you,” Beryle accused.
“I enabled him to take your place,” the angel admitted.
“Then undo it! Now! This should be me, not him!” Beryle sobbed. “Put it right again!”
“I can’t do that, Beryle,” Gabriel said gently.
“Yes you can! If you can let him take my place, you can let me take his place!” Beryle insisted forcefully.
“I said I can’t do that, Beryle, because only you can make that choice.”
“Then tell me what to do,” Beryle stated. “I want to take his place.”
“You would die for him?” Gabriel asked pointedly.
“Yes,” gulped Beryle, realizing what he was asking. “I love him more than myself; more than life itself. I don’t want to live if he is gone,” Beryle realized slowly, looking down at Dale’s face and remembering how much the boy had loved him in spite of the way Beryle had verbally abused him constantly.
“You are certain?” the angel asked.
“Positive,” Beryle snapped bravely.
“Then I will give you what you ask,” the angel agreed. Gabriel moved to the tree, put one hand under the trunk, and effortlessly lifted it several feet into the air.
Despite his amazement, Beryle managed to pull Dale’s body out from under the tree, along with his bike. He noticed that there was no blood, and no wounds on Dale’s body any longer! Even the bicycle was straight and unmarked.
Beryle laid Dale down gently, noticing that he was breathing and seemed to be asleep! Beryle leaned down and tenderly kissed Dale’s lips, wishing Dale was awake to kiss him back.
Then Beryle dragged his bike over and pushed it under the tree where Dale’s had been. Shaking, he laid down on the bicycle, duplicating the position he had found Dale’s body in. The right pedal of the bike was poking him in the small of his back painfully, but Beryle knew it would soon be much, much worse. Now he knew where all the blood had been coming from.
“I’m ready,” Beryle told the angel, his teeth chattering with fear. Gabriel nodded, and dropped the tree abruptly.
Beryle was inundated with white hot pain; pain like he had never known before. But he would not cry out, he promised himself. He would not back down. He would not allow Dale to suffer in his place! Finally, mercifully, he blacked out.
Gabriel turned to Dale, who was regaining consciousness, sitting up groggily. “What happened?” he asked, wondering why he didn’t hurt any more. Then he saw the tree; and who was now pinned under it: And the blood – so much blood.
“No,” he whimpered, crawling to Beryle’s side. “You said I could take his place!”
“You did,” Gabriel nodded. “But he loved you too much to let you die for him. So he made me let him take your place.”
“No, no, no,” sobbed Dale, cradling Beryle’s head in his lap. “No, Gabriel. No.”
“He said that you deserved to live, and he didn’t,” the angel added.
“I don’t care. Without him I have no reason to live,” Dale whimpered. “If you’re going to let him die this way, at least let us die together, then!”
“Your love for him is as strong as his love for you, Dale,” the angel said. “But I can’t let you die with him.”
“Then I will take my own life,” Dale threatened. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“I have a better idea,” the angel suggested.
“Like what?” Dale pouted.
“This,” Gabriel smiled, waving his hand aloft. At once, the tree vanished. A moment later it reappeared, a normal healthy tree, like any other that grew alongside the trail. Dale looked down at his lover, and saw that the blood had vanished as well. Beryle’s bike was slightly out of position, too, the pedal positioned alongside Beryle’s body now.
Dale looked up at Gabriel, his face filled with questions.
“Is it not enough that he now knows how much he loves you?” the angel asked Dale with a smile. ”And how much you love him?”
“That’s what you wanted to do all along, wasn’t it,” Dale accused without malice.
“Of course, my dear boy, of course,” Gabriel smiled. “Love will always be the greatest commandment,” he added.
Dale opened his mouth to ask the angel a question, but the being was gone; with no special effects whatsoever.
“Where am I?” asked Beryle’s voice groggily. Dale looked down into Beryle’s face and watched his lovely eyes flutter open. Unable to speak, Dale put his arms around his beloved boy and pulled him up into a bear hug, tears of happiness running down his cheeks.
Beryle saw Dale embrace him, and then he could feel it too. Then his body was responding to his brain again, and he hugged Dale back, pressing his face against the side of the younger boys’ head.
“I love you Dale Burdette!” Beryle sobbed. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” he whimpered, hugging Dale desperately.
“As much as I love you?” Dale wondered out-loud, his hands stroking Beryle’s back lovingly.
“More, I think,” Beryle sobbed. “I – can’t believe you died for me, Dale. After all the mean things I’ve said and done to you,” he cried.
“But, Beryle,” Dale said soothingly. “You died for me, too! You proved your love for me, Beryle,” Dale reminded him gently.
“I don’t deserve to have someone like you, Dale,” Beryle pointed out. “You deserve so much better,” the blond boy moaned.
“But I love You, Beryle. And only you. I always have,” Dale insisted. “You’re the only one I have ever loved this much, Beryle. Please let me be your forever lover, Beryle. Please?” Dale begged.
“Anything you want, Dale,” Beryle promised. “From now on I’m yours, and yours alone.”
Dale felt his heart leap for joy in his chest, as his beloved Beryle vowed to be his for all eternity. “Then, from now on I’m yours, Beryle. All yours. All I want is to make you happy,” Dale vowed, tears of joy running down his cheeks.
“And I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, Dale,” Beryle promised, crying just as hard as Dale was, and no longer caring who might see him.
“Does that mean you’re not going to bully anybody any more?” Dale asked hopefully.
“Damn straight,” Beryle choked. “From now on I want to be like you, Dale. Kind, and good, and considerate, and everything. You’ll help me, won’t you?” he begged softly.
“Of course I will, Beryle,” Dale promised.
“I’ll even get a decent hair cut, if you want me to,” Beryle offered with some reluctance.
“Oh, no,” Dale protested at once. “Please don’t! I love your hair just like it is! Please don’t let anybody trim it except for me!”
“You really like it this long?” Beryle asked, pulling back so he could see Dale’s beautiful hazel eyes.
“I love it! It’s perfect,” Dale accused, stroking Beryle’s long thick wet mop lovingly with one hand. “Just like you’re perfect,” he added softly.
Nobody had ever accused Beryle of being perfect, ever. Usually it was the opposite, if the truth be known. “If either of us is perfect, Dale, it’s you,” he told his friend honestly. “You saw the good in me, no matter how deeply I buried it. And you didn’t give up on me. Everybody else did,” he reminded Dale.
“I think we’ll just have to agree that we’re perfect for each other,” Dale proposed, grinning.
“Works for me!” Beryle agreed, smiling broadly.
“Then how about we get up out of this mud, and go over to my house, and get cleaned up? I can’t wait to introduce you to my Mom,” Dale said, his eyes twinkling with happiness.
“Is there room in your shower for both of us?” Beryle asked, voicing the same idea Dale was thinking.
“Definitely,” Dale grinned.
“Think we could finish what you started up on the hill?” Beryle asked hopefully.
“I was hoping you might want to try a few other things I’ve read about,” Dale smiled lustfully.
“Anything for you, Dale,” Beryle smiled lovingly.
“Um, now would be a really good time to kiss me, Beryle,” Dale suggested, suddenly shy.
“I thought you would never ask!” Beryle lisped, pulling Dale’s face towards his own.
“You don’t need to wait for me to ask, Beryle. If we’re going to be a couple, you can kiss me anytime you want,” Dale explained.
“Even in the middle of the school cafeteria?” Beryle challenged.
“The other kids wouldn’t know what to think, would they,” Dale laughed. “I would love to see their faces if we just started French kissing in the lunch line! God, that would be rich!” he giggled. “But, you know, we can stay in the closet, if you would rather not have anybody else know about us,” he offered, suddenly conscious of the possibility that Beryle might not be comfortable if their classmates knew about their relationship.
“That’s up to you, Dale,” Beryle replied somberly. “I’ll go along with whatever makes you happy, okay?” Dale regarded him with even deeper respect than before.
“Well, why don’t we start out in the closet, just to keep it simple at first, since they will already be freaking out that you and I are suddenly bestest friends, and that you’re suddenly mister nice guy, too,” Dale pointed out. Beryle had to agree with Dale’s logic on that point.
“Sooner or later somebody will catch us kissing in the boy’s room,” Beryle pointed out. “Or something like that.”
“Sure. And when that happens, then we’ll come out of the closet and watch them freak out all over again!” Dale grinned, hugging his friend warmly. “They’ll be expecting us to deny it, and try to give them some excuse for whatever they saw. And, instead, we’ll just grin at them and say, yeah, we’re lovers. So what’s it to ya?” Dale giggled.
“Perfect!” laughed Beryle. Then, without further contemplation, he pressed his lips against Dale’s, his heart beating wildly as Dale’s tongue slipped into his mouth. He had expected it to be good; but not this good.
Dale, on the other hand, was in heaven. The boy he had loved for so long, pined for day after day, month after month, was kissing his mouth! Passionately, and deeply kissing his mouth, proving that He loved Dale just as much as Dale loved him!
The End. Well, actually, more like the beginning !!If I receive enough positive feedback on this story, I might be talked into writing a sequel; so if you liked it, please let me know!
If you have comments on this story, please sent them to Johnie, and ask him to please forward them to me, as this is my first attempt at fiction, and I welcome your suggestions, praise, gripes, and criticism. Lone-Wolf.