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LOVE IS ALL THAT MATTERS
~ Chapter 3 ~
From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:
As Reid glared down at me (he must have been 6'3", to my
5'10"), I heard footsteps and Josh appeared at the doorway,
a coffee mug in hand.
"Here's your latte," announced Josh brightly. His
cheerfulness seemed weirdly incongruous in the tense
atmosphere. Josh seemed to sense it.
"Are the both of you getting along?" he asked anxiously.
Reid flashed a smile at him. "I think we understand each
other perfectly." He turned to me and gave me a warning
look, unseen by Josh.
"Um, yeah. Look, Josh, I forgot that I have to go somewhere
important," I said.
Josh's face fell. "Now? But . . . I thought we were . . ."
I felt like I was caught in between the two of them. I
interrupted, trying to keep my voice steady. "I really have to go, Josh. Maybe another day?" I knew there would never be
another day. From the tone I said it in, Josh must have
realized it too.
"At least finish your coffee," he said, handing me the mug
without looking at me. "Careful, it's hot."
I couldn't say no to his pleading face. Reluctantly, I
accepted the steaming mug. Behind Josh, I caught Reid's
glare.
I lifted the mug to my lips, blowing on the liquid so as to cool it. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Reid move away from Josh and towards me. I was too busy looking at Josh. He seemed really upset over my sudden coldness. He was avoiding
my gaze. I wanted to take him into my arms and say that I did love him, that it was all Reid's fault I was acting this
way.
I wasn't really paying attention to Reid until he came up
right next to me. The coffee was still hot and I was
desperately blowing air on it to cool it down so that I
could finish it and leave as quickly as possible. Out of
nowhere, Reid casually jolted my elbow with his arm. Josh didn't notice it until I cried out as the steaming liquid in
the mug spilt over my hand and onto my chest.
"Oh my God, Harry. Are you okay?" Josh rushed over to my
side. Blinking back tears, I wasn't sure whether of pain or
sadness, I looked down at my chest. There was a large brown
stain on my white shirt. My chest and hand were both
burning, the pale skin on the latter glowing an angry red.
Josh grabbed my hand and blew gently on it, his earlier disappointment seemingly forgotten. "Damn, Harry, I told you it was hot." Josh thought I'd spilt it on myself. I spared a glance towards Reid. The smug look on his face had given way
to uncertainty. This wasn't panning out as he'd hoped. At
that moment I hated him. I should just tell Josh what Reid
had said to me earlier, that he'd purposely made me spill
the hot coffee on myself.
I was a split second away from revealing everything to Josh, when I thought about Reid's motivations. I realized Josh had been wrong when he'd said his relationship with Reid was not
a serious one. It was more than just about sex, at least in
Reid's eyes. Reid loved Josh, and he didn't want to lose
him, especially not to someone like me, who he clearly
thought was going to hurt Josh. I thought back to the night when my `friends' had beaten up the hapless Dean Winters. My actions that night were fueled by my own cowardice, but Reid
was influenced by genuine love for Josh. I couldn't judge
Reid. The pain I felt from my burning skin was just
momentary; the injuries inflicted on Dean had left him in a
coma for months. I was the cause of that. I didn't want to
the cause of Josh and Reid's breakup as well.
I felt Josh's hands unbuttoning my shirt as he said, "I'll
get something for -"
I pulled his hands away from my shirt buttons. "I'm okay.
I'll get it myself when I go home to change. I'll just go
now."
Josh looked hurt. "Harry, did I do something wrong? Why are
you doing this?"
I'm the one who's done something terribly wrong. This is for
your own good, I wanted to tell him. But I knew that
wouldn't solve anything. Reid was watching us with narrowed
eyes. "I'm sorry, Josh. It just won't work out between the
two of us. Goodbye." I managed to get the words out in a
cold tone of voice.
Josh was crushed. "Can we . . . can we at least be friends?"
We used to be friends a before. I'd thought - no, I'd hoped - that we could be so much more now.
"I don't think so," I told him. Then I turned away. Just before I did, I saw Reid put his arms around Josh from behind and comfort him as he started to cry. I ran from the room.
I got into my car but didn't start the engine immediately. I don't know what I was waiting for - Josh to come running out to get me back? Anyway he didn't. He must still be in Reid's arms, which, although it pained me to admit it, was where he belonged. So why did I feel like such a jerk for pushing him away for the second time? Josh was better off with Reid, I argued. Reid was more experienced than me - definitely in the sex department - and he had one hell of a hot body. He was also out of the closet, unlike me. What sort of relationship did Josh expect me to have with him? I could never publicly be his boyfriend, thanks to my homophobic father.
I looked down at my chest. The top buttons of my shirt were still undone, and I could see the pink tinge to my smooth pale skin where the hot coffee had spilt. I realized I'd have to go home, at least to change my shirt. I couldn't go around with a coffee stain on it. I gripped the steering wheel with my hands and winced as my scalded hand came into contact with it. Damn Reid. But I couldn't stay in the car all day, feeling sorry for myself. I guess I deserved it, in a way. Gritting my teeth, I started the engine and drove off.
"Harrison! Where have you been? I was starting to get worried." Mom did look anxious, and I felt guilty for raising her concern. She spotted the stain on my shirt. "What happened?"
"I spilt some coffee on it, Mom. Don't worry, I'll just go and change."
Mom grabbed my hand as I started to go upstairs. "You will be coming down for dinner, won't you?"
Exhausted by the day's events, I sighed and said yes. I was going to have to see Dad eventually.
In the privacy of my bedroom, I stripped off my shirt and started poking around in the closet for a new one, before deciding I might as well take a shower. I removed the rest of my clothes, catching sight of my nude body in the full- length mirror as I did so. An image of Reid's gorgeous naked body flashed in front of my eyes. I felt my cock stir. Shit, what was going on? I know I was new to the whole gay thing, but surely that didn't mean I was going to fantasize about every gay man I come across. I didn't even like Reid. Shaking the image out of my mind, I went into the shower and allowed the warm water to thud against my back, loosening all the stressed muscles.
When my shower was over, I felt weirdly restful. The day's nerve-racking events were obviously taking their toll. Without even bothering to dress, I collapsed onto my bed, in a deep sleep.
"Harry, wake up!" I opened my eyes as soon as I heard his voice.
"Josh!" I leapt out of bed. Josh looked at me in amusement, and it was then that I realized that I was naked. Blushing, I reached out to grab the sheets to cover myself up, but Josh grabbed my hand to stop me.
"Don't," he said.
"Josh, we can't," I told him.
"Is it so wrong that I love you? And you love me too." It wasn't a question; he was just confirming what he already knew.
He came closer to me and kissed me on the lips, with a passion reminiscent of our first kiss earlier that day.
I broke off the kiss. "What about Reid?" I asked.
"Reid's okay with it."
"Really?" I asked him, disbelieving.
Josh brushed aside my concerns. "Hush, baby . . . don't worry about all that."
He eyed my naked body lustfully and licked his lips. "Hmm . you're naked and not defensive, so I guess you won't mind if I do this?"
Without pausing for my reply, he grabbed me and planted another kiss on me. Any thoughts of asking him further questions flew out the window as his lips touched the erogenous spot on my neck. His hands, meanwhile, tweaked my nipples playfully.
I moaned, and he looked up smiling. "Ah, you like that, do you?"
I nodded shyly. But he was lost in his ravishing of my body. His tongue made wet trails on my smooth torso as it circled my nipples and traveled down my stomach. And then finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his mouth fastened around my cock, and he was sucking it. It was the most incredible feeling. I clutched his black curls in my hands as he deep-throated me skillfully. Josh's gray eyes, full of laughter, watched me as he teased me.
And then, the overwhelming pleasure on my cock made me lose all control, and I came with a cry. I shot string after string of cum into the air, all over myself.
It was at that precise moment that I awoke. I looked around my surroundings groggily. Somehow I'd managed to push the covers off myself, so my nude body was exposed. My stomach and pubic hair were coated with an abundant amount of sticky white liquid. "Shit," I muttered, as realization dawned on me that it had just been a wet dream. This wasn't a good sign. There was no way I was ever going to hook up with Josh. I'd been given a second chance with him, and I'd blown it - on purpose. So why was I now dreaming about him giving me an all-too-real blowjob?
I heard a knock on my door and realized that was what had woken me.
"Harrison, are you alright?" I heard my Mom's voice from behind the door. "I thought I heard you groaning."
I struggled to think of something to say. "Um . . . yeah, Mom, I'm okay."
"You don't sound okay. I'm coming in," Mom announced.
My eyes widened in horror. I couldn't let her see me naked and covered in cum. I quickly rolled off the bed. My feet got tangled up in the sheets and I fell to the floor behind the bed with a thud.
"Harrison?" Mom peered into the room. I poked my head out above the bed, being careful to make sure that Mom could only see me from the shoulders up.
"I'm okay, Mom," I told her.
Mom looked puzzled. "What are you doing on the floor?"
"Err . . . nothing, just . . . um, checking for that box of stuff I used to keep under my bed." I surprised myself by coming up with the lie so quickly and making it sound so convincing.
"Under the bed? Do you want me to help you look?" asked Mom, starting to come into the room.
"No!" I said. Mom was stunned by my sudden vehemence. I steadied my voice and said in a more normal tone, "I mean, I just realized it must be in the cupboard below the stairs."
"Oh, I'll get it for you then," said Mom. I started to protest that she didn't have to do everything for me, but Mom reminded me it was my first day home. It was a good reason to get her out of my room so that I could clean myself up and get dressed, although I did feel guilty later on when she told me she'd spent half an hour looking for the non-existent box.
After Mom had left my room, I wiped my perspiring forehead with the back of my right hand, forgetting that it was the one scalded by the hot coffee. I winced. This was not turning out to be a good day. And considering that next on the agenda was dinner with Dad, it didn't look like it was going to get any better.
To be continued . . .
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