1
“Covid vaccines make you gay, you know,” said Brandon, casually flipping back his unruly wig.
“Sure, I might have been on a ventilator one or three times, but now I can almost smell things again, and hey,” he threw an inflatable club on his shoulder, adjusted the fake fur loincloth with his other hand and winked, “as straight as I’ve ever been.”
The woman in a black witch’s hat rolled her eyes and took her drink to the other end of the living room.
The October 30 Halloween party was winding down. On TV, Jason had taken Manhattan, and the credits rolled. A few guests were saying long good-byes to Brandon’s younger cousin Cody on the porch, while their designated driver waited at the wheel, wearing a pair of glittery devil’s horns. The witch untangled a drunk ghost from the sheet and helped her stand up from a couch. Dracula was diligently trying to call them an Uber despite patchy connection and the fact that they were in a farmhouse outside What Springs, population 158.
The town of Foul Springs used to be famous for the health benefits of its malodorous water. In the early 1900s, mining in the area irreparably changed the local aquifers, drying up the springs, and the new name stuck.
Carefully leaning onto his blow-up club, Brandon looked around the empty room and deemed the party a success no matter what. So what if he didn’t score with the recurring guest actress, the cast of Wild Hog High had a good time, and Brandon felt proud as a host.
Well, a co-host.
Cody walked back into the room and took off the hood of his mint-green Labubu onesie. His short dark hair was an even bigger mess than Brandon’s caveman wig.
“You need to stop telling everyone about Covid vaccines, man,” Cody said, starting to throw empty plastic cups into a trash bag.
“Did the witch snitch?” Brandon swept empty pizza boxes to the floor and dropped onto the couch. Wincing, he reached behind his back and pulled a phone from the loincloth’s elastic.
“You might as well stop tweeting about them.”
“People need to know the truth!” Brandon waved the phone around. “And it’s not like you disagree, man!”
“Sure, but I, unlike some of us, keep the truth to myself,” Cody shook his head. “Which is why my character gets promoted to a series regular, and yours is in a coma after suffering a massive head injury. Cody Amyll’s name is where? That’s right, in the opening credits. And Brandon Amyll? In the closing ones, when I visit my star quarterback older brother in the hospital.”
Brandon huffed and stared into his phone.
Cody looked at his cousin and put down the trash bag with a quiet sigh. He reached into the styrofoam cooler on the coffee table and fished two miraculously remaining beers from mostly melted ice.
“Not a bad party, though, huh?” Cody grinned and offered a beer to Brandon.
The caveman pretended he didn’t notice. Cody apologetically wiggled a bottle under Brandon’s nose. With a chuckle, Brandon looked away from the phone and took the beer.
“Why are you dressed as a fucking Labubu?” he squinted at Cody.
“I’m not a Labubu,” Cody turned around and walked to the kitchen. “I’m a time traveller from the year 2025.”
Brandon mimed his mind being blown behind Cody’s back and followed his cousin to the deck.
2
“So, as a star quarterback older brother in a coma after suffering a massive head injury, I have some free time on my hands,” said Brandon, sitting in a rocking chair with his bare feet on the railing. “And I went to the library.”
Cody loudly spat out his beer and stared at his cousin.
“Now don’t look so surprised!” continued Brandon. “I’ve been known to read.”
“By whom? When?” cackled Cody. “Twitter and air freshener on the toilet don’t count.”
“You of little faith! Anyway, I learned some shit about our great-great-great-uncle and this here house.”
“Whoa,” Cody’s face turned serious. “So? Spill.”
“It’s not much. Apparently, Silas Amyll-Knightwright was not the most popular man in town,” Brandon lowered his voice to an ominous whisper. “You might even say he was feared.”
“Whoa,” whispered Cody.
“Yeah. There aren’t many surviving records of him, but from what the librarian showed me, he was a science man of some sort. In that late 1800s, early 1900s, not Frankenstein-y exactly, more of a snake oil-y sorta way? The whole town was like that, mind you, so something else must have rubbed the locals the wrong way about Uncle Silas.”
“Well, you build a dirt farm on the edge of a small town and start doing quote-unquote science there?” frowned Cody. “People may start talking.”
“Maybe. There’s more, but not a lot. Uncle Silas is mentioned in the Foul Springs Gazette as one of the pioneers of naturism in the United States.”
“Naturism? Like, trees and shit?”
“Like, not wearing clothes.”
“Really? Our great-great-great-uncle invented being naked?” said Cody. “I can live with that legacy. But also I can see why the townspeople would give him a wide berth."
“As far as I understand, that was the welcome part,” Brandon took a swig of beer. “Again, quack health tonics, Foul Springs, new spiritual practices, that was all the rage here in those times.”
“Then what do you think was wrong about him?”
“The last mention of Uncle Silas comes from a brief article in the Gazette,” Brandon cautiously looked around and dropped the voice even lower, gesturing for Cody to get closer. “It says Silas Amyll-Knightwright has found a way to defeat death and may himself come back from the other side in a hundred years.”
Brandon looked over Cody’s shoulder, and his eyes widened in horror.
“It’s him!” Brandon screamed at the top of his lungs, rushing to his feet and pointing into the darkness behind Cody.
“Really?” said Cody, not bothering to get up or turn around. “This much setup for this little payoff? Really?”
“The inspiration struck at the last moment,” shrugged Brandon. “Not my best work.”
“You can say that,” grinned Cody, taking a gulp of his beer.
“But there actually is one last article in the Gazette, man,” said Brandon, sitting back in the chair. He took out the phone and flipped to the photo of the article. “It says Uncle Silas has discovered some kinda wellspring? ‘A limitless natural resource waiting to be tapped’. What that was, beats me. The article is super vague. ‘It might revolutionize the wellness industry,’ whatever that means. And then, nothing. Ever.”
“Spooky,” agreed Cody. “You think it killed him? What could it even be?”
“Fuck if I know. Maybe he simply found another fart-smelling spring. Maybe he found nothing, but built hype just in case. It doesn’t look like he struck oil here.”
“Yeah,” nodded Cody. “And then what, the house just stood empty for a hundred years? It didn’t look abandoned.”
“No, there were other owners before you bought it last year. None lasted too long in the house, but nothing interesting enough happened, I guess,” said Brandon and scratched his stubble. “Otherwise the realtor would have disclosed that, right? Or the library would have the records? Chalk outlines on the floor?”
“Right,” said Cody, looking thoughtfully into the night. “I wonder what happened to Uncle Silas and his whatever. Oh well, at least now we know who he was, we know he built this fine house and he enjoyed being naked. And I’ll drink to that.”
Cody raised his bottle, and Brandon followed suit.
“To Uncle Silas, may his dong swing in the wind for all eternity,” proclaimed Cody loudly and yawned. “I’m going to bed.”
“Yeah. We can clean tomorrow,” yawned Brandon. “Oh! I forgot!”
“What?”
“My agent got me a role in one of those Christmas movies!”
“I’ll drink to that, too!” cheered Cody. “Yay to Christmas movies not giving a fuck about who’s cancelled or not!”
“I’m getting too old to play high school students, anyway!”
“What, you’re drawing the line at thirty-five?”
“Fuck off, I’m not even thirty, asshole!”
“Cheers to that!” guffawed Cody. “Oh! I forgot, too. I banged that girl who plays one of the cheerleaders, she was in her uniform tonight, what’s her name, eh, doesn’t matter. Yay?”
“Yay!”
Both cousins headed back inside. Stepping into the dark kitchen, Cody suddenly turned to Brandon.
“Hey, do you think realtors legally have to disclose ghosts?”
3
It was a dark, stormy morning when Cody woke up in his bed. The wind had brought a blanket of clouds and a drizzle of cold rain, throwing handfuls of brown leaves into the air with each gust. Something was rattling outside. Probably a rain gutter got loose, thought Cody, stretching under the sheets.
After last night’s talk, he went to bed completely naked, and now was lazily enjoying the new sensation. Who knew sheets could feel so nice? Rain gutters could wait. Maybe he should go back to sleep to the soothing sounds of rain. Naked. Let Brandon clean the house after the party. It’s the least he could do, crashing at Cody’s for a few months now.
Yeah, thought Cody and smiled. He fluffed the pillow and closed his eyes.
The next gust of wind ended in a crashing sound.
“Goddamit,” muttered Cody, sitting up.
He checked his phone. Nothing important. Good. He pushed the tangle of sheets aside and got out of bed. His bladder seemed to be in cahoots with rain gutters. No more sleep for Cody, he sighed.
Now that whatever had been rattling crashed, the house stood quiet, rain gently pattering on the roof and the windows. A second later Cody realized that some of the louder water sounds came from the shower.
As much as Cody liked his new place, he could admit that his ancestral abode having only one full bathroom was not ideal. Especially when you had your cousin staying with you indefinitely.
Still groggy, Cody opened the bathroom door. The man who opened the shower curtain in front of him at that very moment was certainly not Brandon.
“What the fuck?” yelled Cody at the tall, middle-aged man standing naked in the shower.
“Do you knock?” yelled the man, hastily grasping for a towel and finding none in his reach.
“It’s my bathroom!”
Cody threw a towel to the stranger and took a bathrobe off the hook for himself. Now that Cody had fully woken up and focused his eyes, the man behind the shower curtain was looking less and less like a ghost, and taking the shape of his Wild Hog High co-star.
“Coach?” gasped Cody with relief.
“I only play one on TV,” the man responded without missing a beat. “Hey, Cody. Morning,” he added awkwardly, toweling off.
“Shawn, what are you doing in my shower?” Cody turned away from the shower and towards a toilet. “I thought you left with everybody last night.”
“My edible hit a little harder than expected,” said Shawn, also turning his back to Cody taking a piss. “I wanted to lie down for a minute, and I guess I fell asleep in the guest bedroom. Or whatever that room is. There’s a bed and a bunch of boxes? Pretty cozy.”
“Dude, first you come without a costume to my costume party, and then you let yourself stay the night? Rude.”
“I had a costume.”
“Jeans and a t-shirt are not a costume.”
“I was Jack Reacher!”
“Jack reaching, more like it!”
Shawn chuckled.
“C minus pun at best, sport,” he said, turning back around to Cody with a towel now wrapped around his waist just a little too low.
“D minus costume at best, Coach,” grinned Cody, wincing at Shawn’s unruly pubes peeking above the towel.
“The shower is all yours,” Shawn gestured courteously, when a low, chilling moan came from somewhere in the house.
Both men stood in silence, listening. Everything went back to quiet. The wind was growing stronger outside, tree branches scraped the roof. Cody held his breath. Shawn carefully stepped out of the tub and placed a hand on Cody’s shoulder.
“What was that?” whispered Shawn.
“Shh.”
Nothing.
“Wait, why are we whispering?” said Shawn at regular volume. “It’s not like we’re alone in the house, right? Is that Brandon suffering from a hangover? That’s Brandon!”
Another moan, now with a small whimper at the end, came from somewhere. Shawn took a small step behind Cody’s back.
“No way that’s Brandon,” whispered Cody. “I know the sounds he makes.”
“Like, all of them?” Shawn crooked an eyebrow.
“Yes, all of them!” scream-whispered Cody, but quickly collected himself. “I’ve seen him hungover, we did our stunts on sets, our bedrooms are next to each other, and we have a lot of threesomes. So yeah, all of them.”
“That’s not Brandon.”
4
Cody hastily closed the robe, and Shawn carefully held the towel in place, as the men stepped out of the bathroom and into the dim hallway. Rain clouds outside got heavier, and the house filled with dusky shadows. A floorboard creaked under Shawn’s step.
As if in response, another low, aching sound came from one of the bedrooms.
“Is your place haunted, by any chance?” said Shawn.
“I think it’s coming from Brandon’s room!” whispered Cody, alarmed. “Quick!”
He ran to the bedroom’s door, swung it open, and froze in the doorway. Shawn came behind him and looked inside.
The curtains in Brandon’s room were closed, and the only streak of grey light poured from the hallway. The air in the bedroom had a sharp chemical odor mixed with the usual musk.
On the bed, there was Brandon.
The caveman wig still on, he sat on top of the sheets with pillows stacked behind his back, naked and covered in sweat. Brandon’s legs were wide open, his throbbing cock and tight balls on full display. In the left hand he held a dusty brown bottle almost the size of a beer can, while his right one reached lower, ignoring the cock and going underneath his butt straight to the hole. His middle and ring fingers were slowly pushing into the man’s asshole, soft, wet, and willingly accepting the intrusion.
Brandon’s eyes were half-closed, his mouth agape, and drool ran down his prickly chin.
Brandon’s brow furrowed and body tensed in anticipation when he reached further down, pushing the fingers deeper inside. He put the bottle to his nose, took a slow breath and held it for a few seconds. When he exhaled, his muscles relaxed, and he slumped onto the bed, motionless except his hand still going back and forth at his rear opening. A low rumbling escaped Brandon’s wet lips, followed by a small whimper when his fingers finally slid out of the ass.
“So I guess your cousin has never fingered himself in front of you before, huh?” said Shawn.
“Yeah, this is new,” muttered Cody, bewildered.
“Well, on the plus side, your house is not haunted.”
Brandon didn’t seem to notice either of them and went on writhing in bed.
“What’s in that bottle?” Cody hesitated to take a step inside the room. “And where did he get it?”
Brandon uttered another long moan.
“Maybe it has something to do with that old book on his nightstand?” said Shawn. “Or the eerie green glow that seems to be filling the room? Shit, is this place haunted after all?”
Brandon turned onto his stomach and reached for his asshole again.
“Fuck it, I’m going in,” said Cody.
He sat on the edge of the bed and gently patted his cousin on the shoulder. Brandon pulled his finger from the ass with a wet pop and turned his head to Cody. He looked surprised to see him.
“Hey, man,” slurred Brandon with a big, happy grin. “Didn’t see you come in.”
“Morning, cousin,” Cody smiled back uncertainly. He tried his best not to pay attention to his cousin’s sweaty buttocks slowly gyrating next to him. “You okay, man?”
“I’m great,” purred Brandon. “Never better. Why?”
Cody carefully pulled the sweaty wig off Brandon’s head.
“No reason,” Cody dropped the wig on the floor next to the loincloth and a beige thong and took a better look at his cousin’s face. His cheeks were flushed, but his pupils seemed a normal size, which was probably a good sign, Cody thought. “Hey, that’s a cool bottle you got there! What’s in it?”
“I dunno, man,” Brandon’s grin grew wider. “But that’s some good stuff.”
“You mind if I take it?”
“Yes,” pouted Brandon and pulled the bottle closer. “Get yourself your own magic bottle.”
“Where can I get one?” Cody shot a quick glance at Shawn, who was still at the door, but listening carefully now.
Brandon followed Cody’s eyes and looked at Shawn with suspicion.
“What’s Coach doing here?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me where you got this bottle.”
Brandon beckoned Cody to lean closer.
“Basement,” he whispered. “Now tell me.”
“Coach is here to, um, do the coaching.”
Brandon chortled and pointed a finger to the dark, empty space next to the bed.
“Don’t you see? Uncle Silas is my coach now.”
5
“So, um,” Shawn closed the bedroom door and looked at Cody. From the room, moaning resumed. “What did we learn?”
Cody stood in the middle of the hallway with a book under his arm. He looked determined.
“We’re going to the basement.”
“Let’s make a quick stop in the kitchen and get us some ice first,” Shawn looked down at the bulge in his towel.
“Damn,” Cody tucked his erection under the bathrobe’s belt. “We’re going to the kitchen!”
A few minutes later, holding a bag of frozen broccoli to his crotch, Shawn knit his eyebrows and looked at Cody in disbelief.
“Your great-great-great-uncle?”
“Well, I don’t have any other explanations for this,” Cody pressed frozen peas to his boner. “Last night we talked about the treasure he had allegedly found, and I guess Brandon went looking? I mean, the book? The bottle? I’ve never seen them before, so he must have found them sometime during the night. And look, the basement door is ajar. It’s all coming together, man.”
Cody adjusted the peas.
“We should have gotten him out of that bedroom,” said Shawn.
“You saw how he got when we tried. And I’m not dragging my naked, sweaty cousin to the other room by force. This is weird enough as it is,” Cody looked down at his peas. “By the way, we’re never talking about this part.”
Shawn looked at his broccoli.
“Agreed.”
Faint wisps of green mist swirled behind the basement door.
“Alright, I’m going,” said Cody and dropped the peas into the sink. He sighed with relief, feeling his soft dick slip from under the belt. “You stay here and study the book.”
“Don’t you want me to go with you?”
“You’re the control group. You didn’t step inside Brandon's room, so maybe you weren’t exposed to whatever it is that got him. I might be already compromised. If anything happens to me down there,” Cody opened the door and shuddered at the stairs descending into the darkness. “I need you to keep it together.”
“Got it. Shoot you in the head.”
“No!”
“Okay, okay. Just reading the book, then.”
Shawn hurriedly grabbed a dish towel and handed it to Cody.
“Here. Wrap it around your face. Maybe it helps.”
“I’ve never worn a mask, and I’m not starting now,” said Cody and took a step down the stairs.
6
The basement door swung wide open, and Cody rushed back into the kitchen, gasping for air.
“I tried to breathe as little as possible down there!” he panted. “Not sure if it worked. Hey, the fuck?”
Shawn stood at the stove with a pan full of eggs and bacon.
“What?”
“I’m exploring the unknown, and you’re making breakfast?”
“Yeah,” shrugged Shawn, putting two plates on the table. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Okay, I am, actually, thanks,” still breathing heavily, Cody sat down and took a fork. “So. There’s a secret door, a secret tunnel, and a secret lab down there.”
“Naturally,” nodded Shawn with a full mouth.
“There were all these boxes of old shit, I guess Brandon moved them last night and found the whole thing,” continued Cody. “It’s crazy, man. There’s a crack in the dirt floor, it oozes! Green stuff! It smells terrible. And there’s bottles of it on the shelves along every wall, lots and lots of bottles, some of them broken, just like the one Brandon is hitting.”
Cody reached into the bathrobe’s pocket and put a brown vial with a glass stopper on the table. Shawn looked at it with concern and took a loud gulp of coffee. The faded label read “Amyll-Knightwright’s Tonic Vapor Concentrate.”
“I think this is what Uncle Silas found. The crack. The green ooze,” Cody was waving his arms around, forgetting about food. “He must have bottled it. And Brandon must have tried it! Oh my god,” gasped Cody. “He opened the secret door, probably spent a lot longer down there, breathing those foul fumes. He simply couldn’t smell them! I bet he overdosed on the fumes! And now his own secret door is off its hinges!”
“Okay, sit down, Cody. Have something to eat, your sugar is running low,” Shawn said.
“You found something too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. About that. This?” Shawn picked the book from the table. “It’s the journal of Silas Amyll-Knightwright. It pretty much confirms what you just found. Your uncle struck weird green ooze on his property, and he was studying it.”
“It’s never good when Brandon reads,” said Cody, chewing. “What does it say?”
“Cody. This is a disturbing read.”
“I need to know. Tell me.”
A strong gust of wind rattled the windows, blowing leaves all around the yard. On the floor above, Brandon moaned.
“The ooze is only part of it, Cody. The fumes open the way to your uncle’s real discovery. The untapped limitless resource,” Shawn lowered his voice. “A man’s prostate.”
Cody stared at Shawn in wide-eyed terror.
“No.”
“Yes, Cody. Silas Amyll-Knightwright discovered ass play. And now your cousin did, too.”
7
Shawn watched Cody anxiously pace the kitchen. A loud howl from Brandon’s room made both men turn their heads up in alarm. Then it went quiet again, and only familiar small whimpers came from upstairs.
“The green ooze turns you into a fag?” said Cody, shaking his head.
“Are we just saying slurs now?”
“Who’s gonna cancel me, you?” Cody snapped.
“Point taken,” said Shawn. “And yes. Yes, huffing the Amyll-Knightwright patented green fumes makes you a cock-hungry homosexual. Your uncle says so in these exact words.”
Shawn opened the journal and pointed to an underlined passage.
“But Brandon can’t be gay!” Cody heavily leaned onto the table. “He has a Christmas movie to make! Wait, am I gay now, too?”
Before Shawn could react, Cody pulled him in for a kiss.
“Ew!” Cody pushed Shawn away. “Disgusting.”
“The fuck was that?” shouted Shawn angrily, wiping his wet mouth.
“Just checking. It’s fine, I didn’t inhale enough fumes, I guess,” Cody plopped back on the chair. “Or maybe Uncle Silas is wrong?”
“Uncle Silas is quite certain of his findings. He conducted tests. Placed ads in newspapers, paid drifters and off-season farmhands to try sniffing the ooze. None of Uncle Silas’ subjects returned to their heterosexual lives. Not to mention heterosexual wives. He wrote it all down,” Shawn opened a page with neatly organized tables. “It’s pretty conclusive, Cody. The fumes and a fiber-rich diet ease the access to a prostate dramatically, and once tapped, that well can’t be untapped.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“I’m afraid there’s no cure for it, Cody,” Shawn slowly flipped through the journal, avoiding Cody’s eyes. “Once you finger your crack, you can’t go back. There is no cure, only treatment.”
“Treatment?”
“Brandon will need a steady supply of dick in the ass for the rest of his life. The journal says it calms the recipient for some time, soothes the craving and makes him a productive member of society again. But it’s only temporary.”
“It’s better than nothing!” ejaculated Cody. “Right? Right, Shawn?”
“I suppose it is,” nodded Shawn. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Shawn,” Cody squeezed the man’s forearm. “I need you to dick down Brandon.”
“Now wait a minute!”
“I’m serious, Coach. We gotta help him. Can’t you hear he’s suffering? His fingers are not enough anymore,” Cody turned his ear to the ceiling. “He needs to go back to his normal, straight slut self. He needs a real thing up in there. And I think you got just the one.”
“Dude, I’m flattered, but I don’t swing that way,” blushed Shawn.
“You got bricked when you saw his hairy ass jiggle in the air, and I have broccoli to prove it,” said Cody. “Granted, I got hard as a rock, too, but I’m his cousin, man. So that’s, like, plan B at best.”
Shawn sat in silence for a while and listened to the wind and rain outside, contemplating. A series of brief, desperate yelps came from upstairs.
He suddenly grabbed Cody’s face and gave him a long, sloppy kiss.
“Gross,” smiled Shawn, happily watching Cody spit and cringe.
“Okay, I’m secure in my heterosexuality. I’ll fuck that faggot straight.”
8
Brandon greeted the visitors sitting in bed, clear-eyed and cheerful, like nothing happened. Only a raging flushed erection and a flood of pre-cum dripping down his stomach gave away the morning’s events.
Smiling and not making any sudden movements, Shawn sat next to him. Cody remained standing on shaky legs, alert and keeping close watch on what was about to happen.
“Hey, buddy,” said Shawn in a gentle, unthreatening tone.
“Hey, guys,” smiled Brandon. “What’s up?”
“Brandon, we need to talk,” said Shawn. “Cody and I got something to tell you. This might sound shocking, but we can’t keep the truth from you any longer.”
Brandon leaned forward.
“Guys, you can tell me anything,” he said in a hushed tone. “What is it?”
The room went quiet. The sound of tree branches swinging in the wind trickled from outside. The walls of the house made small creaks. Raindrops showered the windows.
“There’s no easy way to say it, Brandon,” sighed Shawn.
“You’re gay,” said Cody.
Brandon’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung open.
“No.”
“Yes, you are, man,” said Shawn, placing a hand on Brandon’s thigh. “It doesn’t mean we don’t love you anymore or anything. We do. We really do. More than ever.”
Brandon pulled Shawn into a hug and waved to Cody to join. The three men embraced, clumsily trying and failing to avoid Brandon’s leaking boner.
“Thanks for telling me, guys,” sobbed Brandon. “It means a lot. Thank you!”
He tightened the grip and held them closer. The boner slid into Cody’s bathrobe opening. Cody made a tiny squeal of protest, but the group hug only continued stronger. Finally, Brandon let them go.
“I’m happy you’re taking the news so well,” said Shawn with a warm smile and a tear in his eye. “Now get on all fours.”
“What?” Brandon’s eyebrows shot to the middle of his forehead.
“On all fours. Like a pig, oink-oink,” Shawn gave him a little push. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
Brandon’s face lit up at the realization, and he rushed to his hands and knees, eagerly arching his back. He wiggled his ass in the air.
“Like this?” he grinned, picking up the brown bottle.
“Good piggy,” growled Shawn. “Cody? Do you wanna wait outside? This might get brutal.”
“But you said you’d be gentle,” exhaled Brandon, his eyes glazing after a hit of the fumes.
“Sure, sure,” cooed Shawn, pushing Brandon’s face into the pillow and smashing his nose into a snout.
“No, I’d rather watch this happen,” said Cody and pulled an armchair closer to the bed.
“Your house, your rules,” grinned Shawn, dropping the towel.
9
It took a few changes of the rhythm, and some adjustments of the angle, but now Shawn has hit the stride, relentlessly pounding Brandon’s ass. Brandon was panting and moaning into the pillow, while Shawn thrusted his cock inside him at just the right pace and degree to make the pig squeal louder and longer. Sweat rolled down Shawn’s hairy, tight ass, dripping from his wildly swinging balls. The room filled with wet squelching sounds of Brandon’s hole being destroyed. The bed shook and creaked.
“Go! Hogs!” Shawn yelled the chant from the show over and over again.
“Yes! Coach!” came Brandon’s muffled response.
Cody sat in the chair in an open bathrobe, with his cock pressing into his belly button. He watched Brandon take Shawn’s attack with fervor, shivering and gasping at every slam into the prostate, which only made Shawn ram harder into him.
Suddenly, Cody heard a new tone in Brandon’s moans. Lower, huskier.
He moved to the edge of the chair to take a closer look.
A steady, thin stream of viscous, pearly liquid started trickling from Brandon’s half-hard cock onto the sheets. Brandon was coming! His semen didn’t shoot the way it usually did, vigorously spraying on everyone and everything, it slowly dripped down with each new push against Brandon’s secret spot.
Cody couldn’t look away, and Brandon couldn’t stop leaking.
It took a while before Shawn’s steady rhythm started to falter, grow more frantic than assured, and Shawn reached his orgasm. He slammed into Brandon’s rear harder than before, blowing a load deep inside his guts, spilling one spurt after the other into the twitching hole with a roar of uncontrollable pleasure. Finally, Shawn froze with his cock buried completely inside Brandon, his whole body shuddered one last time, and they both fell on their side to the bed, panting.
They lay catching their breath, and Cody watched their cocks soften and shrink, spilling the last drops of cum on the wet, sticky sheets.
Brandon opened his eyes and looked searchingly at his cousin.
“Is it me or was that kinda gay?”
Cody grinned. In a lightbulb moment, he quickly jumped from his chair and gave Brandon a kiss on the lips.
Brandon playfully pushed him away, making a face.
“Gross, man! What was that for?”
“It worked!” shouted Cody. “Shawn, it worked!”
Shawn sat up in bed, looking at the mess around them.
“Welcome back, sport,” he slapped Brandon’s ass. “Great job, everyone, now hit the showers,” he fell back on the bed.
“Back from where? The fuck are you guys on about?” Brandon looked amused. “Did I miss something?”
“Your good buds are under the impression that they brought you back from the pit of homosexual depravity,” answered Silas Amyll-Knightwright with a polite chuckle, stepping out of the dark corner.
“Which could not be further from the truth.”
10
“So you guys see him now, too?” asked Brandon when Shawn and Cody eventually stopped screaming and huddled behind him. “I thought they couldn’t before, right, Uncle?”
“They can now, obviously,” Silas cleared one ear with a tip of his pinky.
The old man stood at the foot of the bed, naked and sporting a sprightly erection. He was in great shape for his age and for the fact that he died a hundred or so years ago. His short hair and a neatly trimmed beard were white, and so was the fuzz on his lean, well-muscled body.
“But they didn’t huff the vapors, did they?” Brandon nudged the men in bed. “Did they?”
“No. And did you close the door to the lab after your late night visit?” said Silas.
“No,” Brandon said sheepishly.
“And here’s the answer you seek,” Silas took a deep breath. “The house has been slowly filling with the vapors from the spring underneath us. You probably didn’t even notice you were breathing them all along. They only develop that noxious smell when they sit in a bottle for years!”
“It was so cool when I took my first hit, and you appeared!” said Brandon.
“I didn’t appear,” Silas corrected him. “I was around the whole time, it’s just that you could see me! It’s a shame I only learned about this side effect after my passing, this would have been fascinating to study. Although I suppose I didn’t have a ghost at hand back then.”
“Could you study it now?” suggested Brandon.
“You know what, I could!” Silas beamed and pointed to the bed. “I have just the subjects for it.”
Brandon turned around.
Cody and Shawn were slumped on the pillows, their legs thrown apart and hands wandering across their bodies. Thin swirls of green vapor were floating around them, clinging to every inch of the bodies and sneaking their way into the nostrils. Soft moans escaped their wet parted lips.
“Are they…” Brandon trailed off, unable to take his eyes off the sight.
“Faggots?” smiled Silas, taking a seat in the armchair. “I believe you know the way to find out. Try it.”
Brandon slid lower down the pillows, threw his arms on Cody and Shawn’s shoulders and pulled them both in for a kiss.
Epilogue
It didn’t stop at kissing.
When finally the night fell, Brandon raised his head from the tangle of sweaty bodies. A thick drop of semen hung from his chin.
“Aren’t you ever going to join the party, Uncle Silas?”
“No, it’s alright, my boy,” Silas waved him off dismissively. “I am, after all, incorporeal. You go ahead, what you three are doing is both a trick and a treat!”
“Shoot!” he slapped his hands on his ghostly knees. “I forgot to take any notes!”
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