CHAPTER 1

Cape Town, Summer 1997

Under the hot Cape summer sun, a group of four oddly matched teenage boys waited on the church steps for their youth club to start. Three of the boys formed a remarkably close clique and did almost everything together.

“Ben, where’s your wingman?” Tom said.

The curly blonde-haired Tom was the oldest and tallest of the group. At eighteen he was well over six foot tall with a very sturdy muscular frame. He was not what one would call traditionally good-looking, but he was not unattractive. He had a certain charm about him. Tom was not the typical parish pastor’s son. He was unusually wilful, consistently up to no good, sporting a semi-permanent leering expression and a lecherous grin on his face that brought to mind a hyena.

Ben did not answer.

“I don’t think anyone else will come, Tom. Let’s go to your place,” David said.

Among the boys, David, their leader, stood out as the most handsome. He, too, was over six feet tall. His long, dirty-blond hair cascaded over his piercing green eyes, complemented by a straight and well-defined nose, and full red lips.

Tom, knowing what chores would await him at home, kissed his teeth twice.

Ben stared at the sports field a few hundred metres away next to the church hall.

“We can’t even play football or cricket today!” Ben said.

Ben was effortlessly charismatic. He could talk to anyone, and he fascinated those who met him. Standing at just around six foot he had a lean, sculpted athletic build that was perfectly proportioned and impressive. His manner of walking had a distinctly animalistic quality to it. He kept his curly brown hair short and dressed appropriately. However, his eyes were truly distinctive: one dark amber brown and the other gleaming dark green. Beyond their striking contrast, there was also a distinct aura of hunger and danger to his gaze. When he looked at someone it seemed as if his eyes were boring into them seeking answers to unspoken questions.

“I definitely do not want to play football… it’s too hot,” Calem said.

The shortest of the boys, Calem, lacked the lean and toned look that the other boys sported. His freckled nose possessed a distinctive feature, resting somewhere between straight and slightly flat, and his long, dark brown hair, framed a somewhat rounded face that some found angelic in appearance. When he was just eleven years old, one of his primary school teachers astutely remarked that Calem possessed the face of an angel, concealing the Devil within. He did not particularly stand out in any group until one approached him and discovered a captivating brightness that sparkled in his green eyes, which seemed like windows to an unseen realm.

As the outsider, Calem always felt the need to impress these boys. He felt like the odd one out in every social circle – at church, at school, and even at home. He did not firmly belong to any particular group, yet he had a remarkable ability to seamlessly shift from one clique to the other without drawing attention or resistance. At most, he was accepted, and at worst, he was regarded as inconsequential.

Calem looked at Tom, who grew visibly more restless and began kicking stones around aimlessly.

“What are you guys doing after summer?” Calem said.

“Work!” Tom said.

Calem looked toward Ben, who intentionally avoided making eye contact, his attention absorbed in absentmindedly playing with a twig.

“I don’t know. Same, I guess. Probably work for my brother’s construction firm,” Ben said.

David ignored the conversation, spat on the ground, as he walked away in the direction of the toilets.

“I need to piss.”

Tom stopped his playing, and looked over his shoulder at Ben as he trailed after David.

“Yeah, me too… Ben, are you coming?”

Calem rose to his feet, beginning to follow them, only to come to a sudden stop.

“Isn’t the gate locked?”

“Jump!”

Tom laughed as he continued walking away. Ben threw the stick aside that he had been idly playing with and followed them to the toilet. A few seconds later Calem, too, followed. When he entered the toilet Tom and David were urinating next to each other at the urinals. Ben had disappeared into one of the cubicles.

Suddenly a scream echoed through the toilet.

“Hey… you cunt… you just got piss on me!”

Tom had turned to David and was urinating in his direction. David hearing laughter coming from behind him, turned around. He walked toward the laughing Calem, still unzipped, cock dangling, swaying from side to side.

“Come here!”

David pulled Calem roughly toward him.

“You think that’s funny?”

David forced Calem to kneel in front of him, and in one swift movement shoved his cock into Calem’s mouth. Tom, stroking himself, moved closer to David, egging him on. As David continued to feed Calem, his cock continued to swell and grow, becoming thicker and longer. After a few seconds David’s low moans reverberated through the toilet.

Tom moved David out of the way and inserted his cock into Calem’s mouth.

“My turn!”

The two boys exchanged a high-five as Ben exited a cubicle. Ben quietly observed the unfolding scene with veiled interest.

“Who knew we had such a good little cocksucker amongst us?” David said.

Tom turned to Ben, who remained still and silent, his gaze fixed on them.

“Want a turn, Ben?” Tom said.

Ben shook his head, declining the offer, his gaze hypnotically fixed on them. Ben’s eyes concealed an increasing concern for the events, which to him was evident from his refusal to partake in their fun. Nevertheless, his unease remained indecipherable to the other boys. David walked behind Calem and lowered his shorts. Within moments of the spit making contact with David’s hand, he quickly applied it to the tip of his cock, and inserted it without any thought into Calem, impatiently driving it deeper and deeper into him.

“Yeah… open for me!”

David breathed hoarsely as he unexpectedly encountered the second muscle inside that newly opened entrance. He finally stopped, then withdrew to rub more spit on to himself.

“Hang on.”

David re-entered Calem, this time more forcefully. He drew a gasp from Calem as he passed through the second door with one brutal movement. When he had finally pushed through, with each thrust he became more crazed as the tight passage expanded and contracted around him. Calem’s moans increased as David continued to relentlessly drive faster and faster into him.

A look of greed grew in Tom’s eyes as he attempted to push David aside.

“My turn!”

“Wait! I think I’m gonna cum.”

Tom’s arousal got the better of him, forcing David to step aside.

“Fuck, wait!” David said.

David walked to the front and inserted his cock into Calem’s mouth as Tom entered Calem. Tom was unprepared for the sensation that engulfed him as he effortlessly slipped into Calem. David had opened Calem enough to allow Tom, being slightly longer and thicker, to slide in more smoothly. The sensation of him being hugged, massaged, enveloped and squeezed inside Calem sent sensations of pleasure coursing through his body.

As David neared ejaculation he impatiently pushed Tom out of the way.

“Okay, enough! I want to cum!”

David entered Calem roughly, as he switched places with Tom. After a few moments of rapidly increasing thrusts, David felt a surge of pleasure as a cathartic discharge coursed through him as he climaxed inside Calem. His movements became shorter and slower as he finally gave one last hard thrust. He withdrew and stood motionless for a second, collecting his thoughts, before he walked over to a basin to wash up.

“Wait!” Tom said.

As David walked away Tom quickly entered Calem and soon felt the same sharp, overwhelming spasms of pleasure wash over him.

David vaulted over the gate.

“Hurry up!”

After a few thrusts Tom, too, climaxed. Within seconds of ejaculating he withdrew, washed up and followed David over the gate.

Calem stood up, oblivious to the fact that Ben had remained behind, his eyes intensely locked on every move Calem made.

Insistent voices called out to Ben boisterously from outside; however, he kept his cold gaze on the motionless figure, only to slowly become aware of Calem’s hushed, irregular breathing.

Calem managed a forced smile as he rose, pulling his shorts up.

“They are calling you.”

Ben took two steps towards Calem, yet Calem remained motionless. Positioning himself directly in front of Calem, Ben meticulously scrutinised Calem’s face for any signs of emotion. Calem kneeled in front of him. When Ben looked down, he noticed several milky-white viscous drops staining the floor where Calem had kneeled.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you wanted me… to…”

Ben froze, feeling himself getting lost in Calem’s eyes. He began to scrutinise them with newfound interest. Despite the absence of visible emotion, Calem’s eyes held an unexpected lustre and glow, momentarily catching Ben off guard. It was a particular detail he had not noticed before. His thoughts slipped away, leaving him utterly speechless as he felt himself drifting into inscrutable depths.

“Oh,” Calem said.

As Calem turned around to lower his shorts, Ben hastily stopped him. They both froze as the silence between them shattered once again, pierced by insistent calls and whistles cutting through the air like arrows. Ben’s eyes moved from Calem to the gate. Upon looking back, he helped Calem rise to face him, finding it remarkable that there was still no emotion in his eyes. More shouts sliced through the air, calling out to Ben to join them.

“Go into the cubicle and clean yourself.”

Calem, visibly shaken, walked into a cubicle. After a few moments, he emerged, mechanically heading towards the gate, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to his surroundings.

“Wash your hands as well.”

To Ben, it seemed that Calem washed his hands in a trance. Growing concerned, Ben approached him, turned the tap off, and held Calem’s in his own for a moment to reassure him.

“That’s enough now. Let’s go.”

Ben guided him to the gate, but instead of jumping over, he helped Calem over the gate first. When Calem landed safely on the other side, Ben, too, nimbly vaulted over the gate. He looked at Calem, who had moved a few steps away from the gate and was now staring at the river flowing through the field behind the toilets. Ben walked over to him and put his right hand on Calem’s shoulder. He did not acknowledge Ben’s touch as another shout rang out, prompting Ben to turn around and run in the direction of the laughing voices echoing in the distance. After a few metres he stopped, looked back, and took a step back towards the motionless figure. Calem turned around and briskly walked past Ben toward the church gates. In the distance, boys’ carefree laughter continued to ring through the hot African air.

Walking home, Calem looked at the world through a new lens. When he arrived home, he headed directly to his bedroom, within the granny flat situated in the backyard. As he was undressing to shower, he had a sudden realisation. Despite always feeling an unexplainable attraction to other men, he could never have fathomed how the day’s events could ever have been possible. He was aware that he neither loved David nor Tom. What he did acknowledge, however, was his desire for a repeat of the same experience.

After a quick shower, he got into bed. As he drifted off to sleep, an unexpected memory resurfaced: Ben’s kindness toward him that very afternoon. In hindsight, Calem realised that he was too overwhelmed at the time to notice it. Yet, looking back, he now recalled the way Ben had seemed to study him with a deep introspection that, if Calem was not mistaken, unveiled a genuine concern and tenderness that had not been apparent to him in the moment. Calem concluded that Ben’s actions were likely driven by an insincere display of sympathy. And given his knowledge of those boys, it would be wiser not to look for a deeper meaning behind Ben’s actions.