MAXIMUS

They may as well have put it on a marquee. JEFF AND BOUDICCA ARE UP TO SOMETHING SO BE WARNED AND BE READY. Because I choose to ignore them, does not mean I am oblivious to their practical joke playing by any means. The wicked hint in the smile she gave Jeff after glancing at me, was all the notice I needed that something was afoot. I had no doubt she was planning something for me. I knew it had something to do with her appearance, so I had no problem with her request. But to ask Jeff if I could change in the room he shares with Paul? When there were plenty of other cabins available for my use? I know them far too well.

My curiosity piqued, I led Jeff first to the room I share with Boudicca to gather my clothing and toiletries. He was fingering her suitcases when I was done. "Don't you just want to open this and look at it?"

"Look at what?"

"That's the point, mate. There is supposed to be nothing there to see."

"And she doesn't want me to have an idea of it either, until she is ready for me to. I'll know soon enough."

"You're an oak, Max." I suppose one could take that comment several ways.

Paul was waiting for us when we stepped inside their room and handed me a beer. Glancing away when I thanked him, he moved to sit beside Jeff on the bed, and they shared a beer back and forth. For several minutes we simply sat there, sipping at our drinks and not saying anything. Paul was nervous, Jeff was...who knows? Trying to hide a smile I think, but it was causing him to laugh.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing. We're just sitting here like knobs."

"Sometimes peace and quiet is a wonderful thing. But I'm not getting much of that anymore." I pointed in the direction of my room with the neck of my bottle.

"Wishing she was a little more quiet? I don't."  Obviously, Jeff.  She helped you set me up, I thought.

However, I agreed with the sentiment.  "As opposed to near-complete silence, I am not going to complain, no."

"Cheers to that, mate. Besides, you probably had it all stored up, and it was rotting off." Paul hit him in the ribs with an elbow.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I had reserves."

"So I hear."

"From whom?"

"Oh...Teener, the Hurricane..." He waggled his eyebrows as he ticked off the names.

"Ah yes. Well. It's all true," I grinned.

"All of it?"

"Most of it. Didn't get my name for nothing, you know." Paul got up, muttering about needing another beer and did I need another? I declined. Jeff was eyeing me strangely. I pretended not to notice.

"God's gift, right?" he asked.

"Something like that. Well, if I am going to meet her on time, I guess I better get ready, don't you?"  

"Yep. You know where the shower is. Exactly where yours is."

"Thanks, Jeff."

"No worries. Just be as smashing for her as she wants to be for you, mate." I intended to be.

Fifteen minutes later, I had to open the door of the bathroom to let out the steam and allow cool air to circulate. And interrupted a very intimate moment between Jeff and Paul, who were kissing and cuddling on the bed. I feigned innocence as I stood in my towel, examining my features in the mirror. Jeff has done the same to Bou and me, and I doubt very seriously it has ever been accidental. They take delight in deviling each other that way. I'm usually the one who suffers for it however, so I felt not one bit badly about causing Jeff some consternation in his privates. Paul was a concern, but Bou and I are already working on making him feel comfortable with our family, so he might as well get used to the affectionate teasing that goes on between Jeff and her and me.  Something tells me he's not quite as reserved as he lets on. 

I am no stranger to relations between males. There was no stigma placed upon them in my own culture, but then the spread of the Christian faith had not reached all the corners of the world at that time. Uma is correct. Partnerships between older, mature soldiers and young recruits were fairly encouraged to create a sense of camaraderie, and it was a bond between my mentor and me, a part of my education if you will. I had a relationship with an older man during the early days of my army career, and it was within the bounds of that I learned much of what I know and am today.

Do I miss it? A good question, that. There is something to be said for the intense physical pleasure being taken that way gives, and yes, I felt it and I enjoyed it. But on the other hand, my interest has always been in the softer nature of a woman. I love the way they are made to sheath a man inside then carry the seed of his love, nurture and guard it, then bring it into the world. I love their breasts and all the images of motherhood, desire, and peace they conjure in my brain in any given moment I have interaction with their bearer. And with a little vanity, I will confess to the urge to protect that holding a woman produces in me. I simply never felt that need with another man. I want to examine the mysteries of womanhood, to challenge my own grasp of human nature. I understand men. The strengths and weaknesses that compliment my own that are present in a woman's mind and heart and body are what I crave when I dream on my chosen partner. That is my choice. Other men must make their own, and I respect and admire Jeff's and Paul's growing devotion to one another.  Bou says often regarding them, that they are the strongest of us all. It takes a great deal of courage to live in a manner that is looked down on by society and not hide it from the eyes of the world.

Bou tells me things. She tells me, because I can keep them secret as I need to, and sometimes she sounds thoughts out to me to work out her own answers. There is little I don't know about our family, unless she was not made privy to the knowledge herself.  So I am aware of Paul's attraction to me, and while my own interest in a man is purely of a platonic and brotherly nature, I try to be careful not to hurt Jeff's partner. But as a friend, I don't mind having a bit of fun with Jeff.

"You know, mate, Bou is right. You people don't know the first thing about modesty or privacy," he growled.

"I'm in a towel. I could just be doing as we did in my time, you know. We had no problems with nudity. Walked about naked in front of each other in the baths all the time. You should be no stranger to that, Jeff.  Don't you play rugby?" He nodded. "Then you know basically how a bathhouse would look when you're in the locker room." Over my shoulder in the mirror, I caught the look between Jeff and his lover. I had used the magic words. Bath house and nudity. Inside I was grinning, but outwardly I took no note, simply studied my face, deciding what I needed to do differently for my wife.

My beard needed attention. I debated shaving the sides off, to give Bou the goatee look she has been begging for. I hate Russell Crowe sometimes. She showed me a picture of him taken some time not long after he got done playing me, in which he still had my dark hair, but the beard had been trimmed to just his chin and the mustache above. She has been after me ever since. I picked up my shaver and started to work.

"Just be sure you rinse that all down the sink," Paul ventured from the other room.

"I will," I assured him as I splashed cologne on my freshly-trimmed neck, letting the burn settle to a dull cool.

"Let me guess," Paul said, setting a fresh beer in front of me on the back of the sink. "Eternity?"

I laughed. "She thought it was pretty funny too." He grinned and retreated to give me space to finish getting ready.

Not all the shopping Bou and I did was inside the portals. While we were in Rome we had gone into Armani, where she picked out a dark khaki suit for me. I had eschewed the jacket, and rolled the sleeves of the white silk shirt she wanted with it up. She loves the visible bit of chest hair to show, so I left it unbuttoned for her beyond the first button. It fit me well, I thought. She does have an eye for well-made clothing when she needs it. I turned to the other men for confirmation, because I still felt a bit of nervousness. Perhaps I was simply excited at the prospect of what she was doing, and worried I would not match up.

"Well? Will she be impressed?"

Paul appraised me with a practiced eye. If they had been watching as I dressed and had enjoyed the show, he was collected about it now.  "I think you're perfect anyway. Jeff?"

"Tempting." I knew he couldn't be that serious, for that long. He was leering at me, marking me out as 'prey'. We had an understanding. We would talk later. Paul wasn't finished, though.

"Shoes. Those pants look good on you, but they need shoes. And it's dinner. They'll be off soon enough, after. You know, when you're getting the return on your investment?"

"Fine." I did as I was told and slipped on the uncomfortable dress shoes, grateful for Paul's keen fashion sense.  Neither of them gives off the air of being that interested in their appearance that often. Though I suspect Paul cares more than Jeff does when the occasion calls for it. I stood for last inspection.

"Now?"

"Better," Paul nodded.

Jeff affirmed, "God's gift."

"The things we put ourselves through for those we love." I looked at them both meaningfully. Jeff squeezed Paul's hand unabashedly.

"Yeah, mate, things turn out all right after all. Go get her."

"I'll get my things later, gentlemen."

"No worries. Come back anytime you need a shower, mate," Paul called sweetly. I snickered. The things we do for our friends as well.

The last thing I heard, before I closed the door to let them have their own time together and get ready, and went down to the bar was, "Paul, that was a bit off."