LIFE AFTER VASHISHT Copyright 2010 Lucky Lex
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. Exclusive permission to post electronically is given to www.nifty.org and its affiliated mirror sites only.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It contains consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever reason.
The characters in this story practise unprotected sex. Please be aware that this is VERY dangerous in today's world and should not be indulged in unless you are in a long-term monogamous relationship and trust your partner implicitly.
I'd love to hear from you, please let me know what you think! [Feedback is the only way writers can tell how they are doing.] Please direct any comments, criticism, feedback or suggestions to: LuckyLex@luckymail.com
When Vash was diagnosed with breast cancer I didn't think for one minute that he would die. For a start, how could a boy have breast cancer if he didn't have breasts. For another, Vash was one of the fittest boys I had ever known, and it was his fit, dark-skinned body that first brought him to my attention before I even realised what a great guy he was, and before I knew that I wanted him to be a big part of my life; the part that most teenage boys would choose a girl for.
Although I had never previously considered myself to be gay, and I still admired a pretty girl if I saw one walking down the street, my relationship with Vash had changed my mind; and once I made my mind up that I was gay I came out to my folks, and shortly afterwards to my peers. Several of my friends distanced themselves a little and some of them kept clear of me in the showers at school, but on the whole they were very accepting. Vash, on the other hand, being from an Indian Hindu family, didn't even dare to let his parents to suspect his sexuality or he would have been cast out of the family, even though he was only sixteen.
It was a bit of a shock, then, when Vash developed a swelling and some discomfort in his chest. Initially his doctor thought it was nothing to worry about; but when it persisted for several weeks and did not respond to any form of treatment, eventually the doctor sent him to hospital for tests and the cancer was discovered.
He underwent surgery and seemed to be doing quite well afterwards but he then started to lose a lot of weight very quickly and was admitted to hospital again on New Year's Eve and on January 5th at 5am he died, just a week before his seventeenth birthday.
Being told of his death was the last thing I remember of what I now think of as my old life'. I'm told that I retreated into myself and ignored everything that was going on around me. I didn't speak and I didn't eat. I didn't leave my room for days on end, even when the doctor came to visit, and eventually I was admitted to Saint Gregory's Clinic. Saint Gregory's was known locally as The Mad House', and this is how I had always referred to it, but Saint Gregory's proved to be my salvation ... eventually.
When I was admitted to the clinic I was deemed to be too ill to make my own decisions, so the staff were given the authority to treat me as they thought best. However it was not the clinic's policy to treat anybody against their will and they only did so when the patient was putting his or her life in danger. I was in such a state that the normal `suicide watch' was upgraded and I was never allowed to be alone. A member of the nursing staff was constantly with me and I soon became familiar with the three nurses who were allocated to me, two of them in twelve hour shifts and the third covered the shifts when the first two were on their days off.
Frank, who usually worked the day shift, was a bit of a rough diamond but always good-humoured, and no matter how withdrawn and taciturn I was he never gave up and chatted to me throughout the day. Hal came on duty at nine o'clock in the evening. He was a much different character and whilst he was never unkind to me, he gave me the impression that it was `just a job' and his heart really wasn't in it. He never made any effort to hold a conversation with me and I found myself actually disliking him. The third nurse, my favourite, was Wes. Wes had only recently qualified as a nurse and, for the time being, was given all the worst jobs; so it was a relief to him when he was allocated to me and he got a little respite from cleaning bedpans and lancing boils. I think I responded more to Wes than the other two, basically because he was openly gay, but I still refused to leave my room except to go to the toilet, and I had to be accompanied even then, so I tried to hold off shitting until Hal was on duty so he had to put up with the resulting stench. I should point out that the part of St Gregory's in which I was accommodated was an old building, and had been designed before private en-suite bathrooms became the norm.
I ate when I was hungry, which wasn't often, and I spent the rest of my time lying on my bed and thinking of my darling Vashsisht. My parents came to visit most days and brought with them a number of my belongings, hoping that my having familiar things around me would snap me out of my depression, but nothing made any difference to me; I couldn't be bothered to do anything.
It was one night during my third week at St Gregory's that Hal came on a bit strong trying to get me to take a shower. I had lost all pride in my appearance and I didn't care if I stank to high heaven, even if it offended everyone around me. We argued loudly and a passing doctor came in to see what the fuss was about. I told him what had happened and that I no longer wanted Hal anywhere near me, so the doc arranged for another nurse to sit with me while he took Hal to the duty administrator.
A little while later Wes came into the room and told me that he'd been allocated to work the night shift with me in future. I was secretly pleased, but didn't want to let on that my little victory had had a positive effect on me.
It was at around 3am that I needed to pee and as Wes and I were returning to my room afterwards we walked past a guy who was heading in the opposite direction. I thought at first that he was a young kid, but then I realised that he was probably about the same age as me; he was just very slightly built with short dark hair and bushy eyebrows and he had an air of not belonging in this world. He was dressed in a crumpled T-shirt and shorts with bare feet, which I assumed was his sleeping attire. We'd just got past him when I heard him say, "God, what's that bloody awful smell!?!"
"Who's was that?" I asked when he was out of earshot. "And what was he talking about?"
"That was Bobby, Bobby Marsden" Wes replied. "He's in the room right at the far end of the corridor."
"What's he in here for?" I asked.
"Sorry, confidential; can't tell you that." Wes replied. "What I can tell you is that the smell he was referring to was you."
"ME?" I almost shouted.
"You." He said. "Hal may have gone about it the wrong way, but what he said about you needing a shower was absolutely right. I'm sorry if that offends you, but you're actually offending other people.
"Quite honestly, I don't give a damn." I said forcefully.
Wes was silent for a minute or two. "Bobby's quite cute, isn't he?" He said out of the blue.
"I didn't really notice," I said, untruthfully. I had noticed him and he was cute.
"You won't get anywhere with him smelling like you do." He pointed out.
"I told you, I don't give a damn." I repeated. "What makes you think he's gay anyway?"
"Trust me, he's gay." Wes said. "But you didn't hear it from me."
I lay back on my bed and thought once again of Vash. His lovely dark skin. His clear complexion, his even white teeth every time he smiled. I imagined his slender brown fingers wrapped around my cock and I grew hard at the thought. What a waste. What a total waste of a life.
I think that was the point when I finally came to terms with the fact that I would never see him again, and that there was nothing I could do about it. I thought about Bobby.
"Maybe I will get in the shower." I said.
Wes gathered together a large towel, shampoo and shower gel and we went down one floor to the shower rooms. It was getting on for four in the morning so the place was deserted. I wasn't a modest person so I stripped off and went into one of the shower stalls. I saw Wes wrinkle his nose and smiled inwardly as I turned on the water. I stood underneath it and let it run all over me.
Wes came over and held out the shampoo. "You'll need this for you hair, Kyri." He said.
"No, I don't think I'll bother going that far." I said.
"Go on, might as well make a good job of it." He said.
"Hmmm ... You're the one who's supposed to be looking after me," I said. "Why don't you do it for me?"
Wes laughed. "You don't think I would, do you?" He asked.
"I dare you." I said.
Without a second thought Wes began to strip off his uniform and before I knew it he was naked with me in the shower. Wes stood behind me, pouring shampoo into the palm of one hand and then began rubbing it into my greasy hair. As he rubbed the shampoo in I could feel his cock and his pubes rubbing up against my butt and within a very short time we both started to get hard.
I actually began to laugh, and I mean really laugh heartily. I hadn't done that in weeks. We allowed the shower to wash the shampoo out of my hair and then Wes applied more, and this time it really lathered up. I was getting a buzz from the feel of his half-hard cock rubbing up and down my butt and slipping in and out of my crack and my own cock was now like a steel rod. I hadn't been this aroused since ... ... well, since you know when.
After washing the second lot of shampoo from my hair, Wes reached for the shower gel and instead if using a wash cloth he rubbed some into his hands and began to run them over my back. He told me to raise my arms and washed my pits thoroughly then worked his way down to my waist. He then knelt behind me and took care of my legs, leaving my butt until last. I don't think my butt had ever received so much attention. Vash had never been much of a one for anal sex, which was my one big regret about him.
"Turn around," Wes said as he stood up. I turned and took a good look at Wes's naked body. He was in his mid twenties but had little body hair. There was a treasure trail from his innie navel down to his pubes and I could see hair in his pits, but that was about it. Even his legs we pretty much hair-free.
After he'd soaped up his hands again he went to work on my chest, pinching my nipples in passing. He worked his way down to my waist and then knelt in front of me, his face just a couple of inches from my rampant cock. Totally ignoring this, he washed my legs and then took time and care over my feet which, he'd said, smelled particularly foul. "Are you going to finish the job?" He asked with a waver in his voice.
"Why, don't you want to?" I asked.
"It would be unprofessional not to ask." He said.
"Well, I'm not going to do it." I said, praying fervently that he wouldn't back out.
"Okay, you asked for it." He said.
`I'm gagging for it' I thought to myself, and I know it's difficult to believe, but this was the first time I'd had had any sexual feelings since Vash died; there, I'd said it, Vash was dead.
Wes soaped up his hands and grasped my cock with one hand and my balls with the other and began his manipulation. He certainly wasn't as gentle as Vash had been, but as a means to an end I had nothing to complain about, so a couple of minutes later I emptied my balls over the shower wall and Wes's legs. The relief I felt was unbelievable, and as I towelled myself dry afterwards I couldn't help smiling to myself.
"I don't know what you're smiling at," Wes said, working his own cock to orgasm, you could at least have helped me out here."
I looked at him and said, "Nah; besides, I'm dry now. Anyway, wouldn't it have been unprofessional if you let me jack you off?"
"Unprofessional be damned." Wes said just before he started to moan as his climax approached. I had to admit he was pretty cute, but I really wasn't looking at the moment, and he was certainly too old for me. Still, maybe that Bobby ... ...
"Shit!" Wes suddenly said as he turned off the shower after flushing the evidence down the drain.
"What's up?" I asked, beginning to get dressed.
"I haven't got anything to dry myself on."
"Here." I said, tossing him the towel that I had used.
"It's bloody soaking." He said.
"Look, just wrap it round you until we get back to my room, then you can dry off properly." I said.
"Well, I just hope nobody sees us," Wes said, "I could get the sack for this if anyone found out."
"Trust me, they won't hear from me." I assured him.
"Thanks, Kyri." He said.
We made our way back to my room without being seen, and I have to say I was feeling much better after my shower, and after relieving the pressure in my balls; and when I climbed into bed I slept better than I had in weeks, and for the first time my dreams were not of Vash, but of Wes and Bobby, and for some reason I dreamed of them together and they made a pretty hot pair.
The following day I was taken off twenty-four hour observation and downgraded to `suicide watch', which meant that instead of having somebody with me all the time, they came and checked on me every fifteen minutes.
I was walking down the corridor just before lunchtime and I could hear classical music playing somewhere. When I got to the last room it was obvious that this was the source of the music. The door was open slightly and I peered through the crack to see if I could see whose room it was. I saw a guy sitting with his back to me playing a keyboard which was set below a large wall mirror, and when I looked in the mirror I saw that it was Bobby. He was dressed in the same rumpled T-shirt and shorts that he had been wearing the previous night and was still barefoot. His keyboard skills were obviously very accomplished and he seemed to be unaware that he was being watched.
I slipped into the room and leaned against the wall by the door, entranced by the music and drinking in every movement of his body, which expressed the music as he played it. He reached the end of one passage, and as he began the next he glanced into the mirror and our eyes met.
"Go fuck yourself, boy." He said. "You stink." I hadn't noticed the accent the night before, but there was a distinct American twang.
I walked towards him and said, "I had a shower."
"Well, go fuck yourself anyway." He replied.
His fingers seemed to drift across the keyboard without touching the notes, yet the variety of tone and expression in the music showed that he was well in control of the instrument.
"You play well ... for a Yank." I commented.
"Go fuck yourself."
"Don't you ever say anything else?" I asked.
"Yea, Fuck off." He said, trying not to smile.
"OK you win." I said and turned on my heel.
"No, wait." Bobby said. "You can stay if you like. Just don't expect much of a conversation."
I sat on his bed and watched him playing for a little while until there was a commotion in the hallway outside and I heard my name mentioned. I went to the door and saw an anxious-looking Wes. "If you're looking for me, I'm in here," I said.
"You bastard, I've been looking everywhere for you." He said. "Don't ever do that to me again."
"Sorry, but I didn't know I was going to be in here." I said, and ducked back inside the room before he could chastise me any further.
"Still on suicide watch, eh?" Bobby asked.
"Yea." I replied.
"Wanna talk about it?" He asked.
"Not now." I said. "Just keep playing, please."
"Do you like Debussy?" He asked
"Who?"
Bobby laughed loudly and heartily, but didn't miss a single note.
"Claude Debussy, he's my favourite composer." Bobby replied. "Anyway, what's your name kid?"
"Kyri." I replied, "Kyriacos Karayannis to be precise."
"Sounds Italian." Bobby said.
"Greek, actually." I told him. "I'm born and bred English, but my grandparents were Greek and when I was born I was given a Greek name.
"Bobby Martin." Bobby said as the piece he was playing came to an end. I went over to him and held out my hand.
"Pleased to meet you Bobby." I said.
"Are you?" he asked, taking my hand.
"Shouldn't I be?" I asked
"Depends on how you feel about arsonists." He said.
"What!?!"
"Yea, I thought so." Bobby said and turned back to his keyboard.
"Okay, how do you feel about guys who can't cope when their boyfriend dies and sink into a massive depression?" I asked him.
Bobby turned back to me. "Shit, that's tough." He said.
"Well, I'm sure you had good reason to do what you did, so how about we forget what we've both done in the past and start again?" I asked.
Bobby thought for a few seconds. "No, that wouldn't work." He said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Firstly I don't want to forget, and secondly you'll never forget." He said.
I knew that he was right about me, so I supposed that he was right about himself.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked him.
"Not now." He said, "but maybe ... sometime." He turned back to the keyboard and began to play again. This time it was a familiar march tune that I knew to be by Sousa.
"Now I know that's Sousa." I said.
"Yea, he's my favourite composer." Bobby said.
"But you said that other guy, Deboozy was your favourite." I argued.
"It's Debussy, and that was then. Now my favourite is Sousa." He said.
"I thought I was the crazy one." I said.
"No comment." He said with a grin.
"Monty Python's Flying Circus." I said. "That's what the tune is."
"The Liberty Bell, actually." Bobby said. "Monty Python borrowed it."
"Oh." I said. I listened for a few minutes and then I started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Bobby asked.
"A suicidal depressive and an arsonist discussing whether it's Monty Python or Liberty Bell." I said. "It just seems amusing to me." I said.
"You are the crazy one," Bobby said, but I knew he meant it in fun.
"Are you two OK?" Wes asked from the doorway. Bobby stopped playing.
"Are you fucking stupid or what?" Bobby asked him with a big grin on his face.
"OK, OK, silly question." Wes said and disappeared.
"How can I concentrate on my music with all these damned interruptions?" Bobby said theatrically. I couldn't help but laugh; I liked this kid. "Hey Kyri, do you play?" He asked.
"Oh no." I said. "Mum wanted me to learn and I took lessons for a year, but I just couldn't transfer all of those dots on the page to the keys."
"Come and sit here and we'll have a go." Bobby said.
It was only a single piano stool he was sitting on, so we were pretty close together. "Is this your own keyboard?" I asked.
"Yea. Mom insisted they let me have it in here." He replied; "I'd be bored to tears without it."
Bobby would make a great teacher. He grabbed some fairly elementary music from a pile on his chest of drawers and as we played, slowly things started to come back to me from my earlier lessons, but he explained everything so simply that we were soon playing very simple duets. We were also getting very close to one another on the piano stool and it really felt good.
Glancing down I could see that Bobby seemed to be enjoying it too as there seemed to be a distinct swelling in the front of his shorts and he seemed to be pressing his leg hard against mine. As I looked up I saw in the mirror that Wes was standing watching us with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and I just couldn't help smiling back. "I'm going off duty now boys." He said. "I'll see you later."
About an hour later Frank came into the room and said that I was wanted in one of the conference rooms. As I stood, Bobby grabbed my arm and squeezed it in a gesture of support and I smiled back at him. I was beginning to feel a real connection with this strange American kid.
"Wes tells me you two are getting on well together." Frank said as we walked through the corridors.
"It's early days." I told him, "But he seems OK."
"Poor kid needs a friend, just like you do." Frank said as we reached the conference room.
As I entered I saw that my doc was there with the head of nursing and one of the psychiatrists that I had seen when I was first admitted to the clinic.
I was assured that I wasn't in any sort of trouble and then they apologised for the way that Hal had treated me. I pointed out that Hal had been right in what he said, but that the way he said it was what had irked me.
We carried on chatting for about twenty minutes and Bobby's name cropped up several times and I had the feeling I was being sounded out about him without being directly questioned. At the end of the meeting I was asked to wait outside for a minute while they had a quick discussion, and when I was called back in they all left the room except for the doc. As I sat down he began, "Well Kyri, you seem to be coming along in leaps and bounds. We've decided to downgrade you and you are no longer on suicide watch, but we are trusting you to tell us if you think you are regressing in any way, and we will still be keeping a close eye on you. You will be here for at least another two weeks but we will probably move you into the new wing where things are a little more free and easy."
"Does that mean I'll have different nursing staff?" I asked, not wanting to have my routine upset too much.
"Yes and No," the doc said. "You'll be losing Frank, but now that Wes has been here for a while we're going to give him a little more responsibility and he will be working day shifts in the new wing so you'll still be seeing him. Is that OK?" He asked.
"Yea, I suppose so." I replied. "When will I be moving?"
"Well, we'll have to sort out a room for you, but it will probably be some time tomorrow." He told me.
When I left the conference room I thought about what had been said as I was walking back to my room, but when I turned the corner Frank was coming towards me with Bobby in tow. As we passed he grinned at me and I winked at him, wondering how he was going to fare at his review.
I got back to my room and lay on my bed and my thoughts turned again to Vashisht and I suddenly realised that this was the first time I had thought about him since I'd entered Bobby's room earlier. I thought of Wes in the shower the previous night and my cock began to grow hard. There was one sure fire way to get me going, and that was simply to imagine Vash's dark brown fingers wrapped around my cock, and this time was no exception. Of course, it was my own fingers doing the job right now, but my imagination was a wonderful tool. As I slowly rubbed myself up and down my mental picture of Vash slowly faded and was replaced by Bobby's face. I thought of his strong, slim fingers as they hovered over the keyboard and imagined that they were now wrapped around my cock.
It felt good. It felt DAMNED good. I was well on the way to climax and so involved in myself that it came as a hell of a shock when I heard someone's throat being cleared and looked up to see a grinning Bobby in my doorway. "Don't let me stop you." He said, his hand dropping to the bulge in his shorts.
"Fuck off, Bobby." I said, almost dying from embarrassment.
"Chill, man; we all do it." Bobby replied.
Of course, I knew that Bobby was gay, but did he know that I was? Knowing Wes, Bobby probably did.
"Do you need a hand with it? I'd be happy to help you out." He said, walking towards me.
I was speechless. For once in my life I just didn't know how to react. I didn't want to be disloyal to Vash, but Vash was dead, and I had thought about Bobby's slim little hands on my cock.
"Ummm, no, I think I'll pass this time." I said, tucking my cock inside my trousers. I couldn't help checking out his package again and it looked to be pretty aroused to me.
"Well, if you're sure." Bobby said. "Maybe another time?"
I pretended to think about it. "Maybe." I said with a grin. "By the way, how did you get on with your review?" I asked.
"Yea, Okay." He replied. "They're going to move me into the new wing as soon as they can."
"Me too." I said. "And they've taken me off suicide watch."
"Great." Bobby said, "as long as you're OK about that."
"Yea, I think so." I said. "I've admitted to myself that Vash is dead now and I know that life has to go on."
"Vash? Was he your boyfriend?"
"Yea, but I prefer lover' to boyfriend'." I replied. OK, I'd now made sure that Bobby knew that I was gay. How about you?" I asked.
"Yea, I think I've convinced them that I'm not going to be a serial arsonist, but they want to keep an eye on me for another couple of weeks; then they'll report to the Director of Public Prosecutions' Office, and they will decide whether they'll take me to court or not." Bobby reached down and adjusted himself.
"Charming!" I said.
"Your fault, Kyri." He said. "It's not every day that you call on a friend to find him beating off."
"Don't remind me." I said as Frank came into the room.
"Oh great, you're together." He said. "Would you both like to come with me to the new wing and I'll show you both the rooms you'll be moving into tomorrow.
We both jumped to our feet, eager to see our new accommodation. "Bobby, you might want to put some shoes on and some warmer clothes." Frank said, "We have to go outside."
"Nah, that's OK Frank, I like barefooting and I'm used to your British weather now." Bobby replied and slipped his arm into mine as we followed Frank down the corridor and out into the wintry sunshine.
We walked across the courtyard and went into the new wing of the clinic; the atmosphere was different in here, more like a hotel than a hospital. "Here we are boys, rooms 110 and 111, take your pick.
Bobby walked into 110 and I walked along to 111. It was a lovely room with a big window looking out on to the courtyard. There was also a door leading into what I thought must be a private bathroom, but as I walked through the door so Bobby entered through another door on the other side. We looked at one another and laughed. "We're not going to be able to get away from one another." Bobby said.
"Do you want to?" I asked, eyebrows raised.
Bobby paused for a moment before saying with a smile, "No, I don't think I do."
"OK lads, you can move into here at ten o'clock tomorrow morning." Frank said. "Wes will be around to make sure it all goes smoothly."
"Thanks Frank." We chorused, and he led us back to our old rooms for the last time.
As we walked back into the old building Frank dashed off to answer an alarm bell that was ringing and we turned towards our rooms. I was about to walk past Bobby's door when he pulled me inside, shut the door behind me and pressed me up against it.
"What the ... ..."
It was all I managed to say before Bobby's lips were pressed against mine and the rest of his body pressed hard against me. I could feel my cock rising to the occasion and I began to kiss him back, pressing my tongue against his lips to find them opening for me and I explored the inside of his mouth.
"What brought that on?" I asked when we came up for air.
"You." Bobby said, grinding his cock against mine.
"Why?" I asked.
"Why not?" He countered.
"Listen, I'm not ready." I said, my mind in utter confusion.
Bobby lowered his hand and grabbed my hard cock through my trousers. "Feels ready to me." He said with a lecherous grin.
"Wait ... I don't know ... ummm ... shit ..." I stammered.
"OK, OK," Bobby said, backing away. "Look, I don't want to rush you or anything."
"No, it's alright." I said, "I just ... don't know." For some reason tears sprang to my eyes and I just ran from the room in a blind panic. When I got to my room I threw myself on the bed and tried to make sense of the conflicting feelings that were racing through my mind. Sure I wanted Bobby, but I didn't want to be disloyal to Vash; but Vash was dead and I'd never see him again no matter what happened. A moment later Frank walked into the room.
"Hi Kyri," He said. "Bobby said you were upset. Anything I can help with?" He asked.
"No, I'm OK now." I said.
"Well, if you're sure." Frank said. I nodded and a few minutes later I fell into a troubled sleep and dreamed a variety of dreams, none of which made any sense to me.
When I next woke I had no idea of the time, but it was dark. What I did know, however, is that I wanted to be with Bobby. I slipped out of bed, still fully clothed apart from my shoes and padded along the corridor to Bobby's room. When I slipped inside, the room was bathed in moonlight. Bobby's bedside clock read 2.13. I stood looking down at him, marvelling in his beauty. After a couple of minutes I grabbed a chair, lifted it and quietly placed it next to Bobby's bed. I sat and stared at him. He stirred and the bedclothes shifted so I could see that he wore no top. I could see one of his nipples, which seemed to be much larger than mine and very dark in colour. His skin was unblemished and his face looked totally at rest.
I must have fallen asleep; I have no idea for how long, and I was awakened by the touch of Bobby's hand on mine. I woke with a start, and although it was still dark I could see that Bobby was standing naked in front of me. "What are you doing here?" He asked.
"I'm ready now." I said simply. A big grin spread across Bobby's face as we stripped my clothes off and he pulled me into his bed. It was only a narrow single, but that's all we needed.
At first we simply kissed and snuggled together, but then the hormones kicked in and we had to move on. Bobby took the initiative and moved himself so that we were in the classic `over and under' position ready to sixty-nine. We were both already rock hard, so there were no preliminaries, we both went for it. It seemed a little strange to be to be sucking a white cock; also Bobby was cut, where Vash had been intact. Thinking back, it probably helped that they were so different and I couldn't make a direct comparison. Before long all other thoughts blanked out of my mind when I felt my juices gathering ready and my cock was almost ready to explode. Bobby managed to keep up a constant rhythm on my cock, even though his breathing had become very ragged. I slowed up a little as I wanted this to last a little longer, but I was having trouble holding on to my own love juices. The crunch came when Bobby stopped sucking on me and put his tongue to work on my glans. The final straw that sent me over the top was when Bobby shot his load deep into my mouth, moaning as he did so causing an earth-shattering vibration against my glans which I couldn't resist, and my love juice erupted a few seconds later.
I remember thinking that Bobby's juice was sweeter than I had expected, but then the post-orgasmic exhaustion took over and I lay back and dozed. I was aware of Bobby moving back next to me, but nothing more until I opened my eyes to find him propped up on his elbow, looking at me with a contented smile on his face. It was still dark outside so I knew that I hadn't been asleep for long.
"What are you looking at?" I asked him.
"You." He said. "Did you know that you make baby noises when you're asleep?"
"I do not!" I protested.
"Yes you do. You were almost blowing bubbles just now."
"Hmmm, must be something I ate." I said, referring to his sweet offering.
"There is nothing wrong with my cum." He said, feigning hurt.
"I didn't say there was." I said. "In fact, it's sweeter than Vash ... ... ..." I stopped because I thought Bobby might not like being compared to my former lover.
"It's OK." Bobby said. "You can talk about him. He was a big part of your life, and I'm sure you'll never forget him."
"Thanks." I said, embarrassed. "I suppose we've both got things we're never going to forget, things that we regret and things that we don't."
"You got that right, kiddo." Bobby said. "Do you still want to know more about Bobby the arsonist?" He asked.
"Only if you want to tell me." I replied.
"There's not really very much to tell." Bobby said. "Mom and dad split up shortly after my kid brother was born. Naturally we stayed with Mom. They got divorced and a couple of years later and then mom met this English guy named Joe. I never liked him from the start, but she fell in love with him and they got married and we moved over here. He tried to boss mom about, but she's always been her own woman and she always stood her corner. Last year he started drinking heavily and started knocking her around. It wasn't too bad at first, but he came home in a state one night and mom ended up in hospital. The police were called and he was arrested and carted off to the police station. He tried to get into her good books again and tried to butter me up, but I wasn't having any. I thought I'd get my own back in my own way, so I decided to set fire to his car. He had a top of the range Mercedes and it was his pride and joy. He'd left it outside his business premises, so I went there one night and set fire to the car. Because of the intense heat the factory caught fire too and the whole place went up in flames. I didn't realise, but he'd had CCTV installed and I was caught on camera.
They wanted to send me to a youth offenders centre, but the judge took pity on me and agreed to send me here so they could assess me and then decide what to do with me at a later date."
"How did it work out with your Mum?" I asked.
"Mom's fine now, and she's been here to see me once or twice, but she can't bear it that we're apart, and it really upsets her every time she has to leave me in here, so we've agreed that it might be better if she stayed away."
"I'll tell you what I think." I said.
"I think that if I'd been in your place I wouldn't have set fire to his car, I'd have set fire to HIM, and I'd have willingly gone to prison for the privilege."
Bobby beamed at me. "So you don't blame me then?" He said.
"How could I?" I said.
"Well, well, what have we here?" A familiar voice said from the doorway.
"Hi Wes," Bobby said. "What the hell does it look like?"
"To be honest, it looks as though all my wishes have come true." Wes said. "I knew you two were right for one another."
"Well, it's early days yet, so why don't you just fuck off and let us get to know one another a little better." Bobby said with a grin.
"Yes Sir!" Wes said, saluting. "But you both have to be ready for moving at ten o'clock, so I'll make sure you get your breakfast nice and early. Just make sure you're back in your own room by then, Kyri." Wes told me.
"OK Wes." I said.
Bobby and I talked and kissed and talked and kissed, and then we talked and kissed some more, and we knew a lot more about one another by the time I went back to my room. Breakfast arrived at about eight-thirty as I was packing my belongings together. I hadn't realised until I started to eat how hungry I was, so after the cereal and toast that I'd ordered I broke open a bag of chocolate that Mum had brought me a few days ago that I hadn't eaten.
Just before ten o'clock Wes turned up with a large trolley. He said he was going to load Bobby's things on first as he had more of his own possessions than I did, like the keyboard and all his music. He would then come down and I could load mine on.
I filled in the time that I was waiting by checking around that I hadn't left anything behind. I found a stray sock and a box of tissues but that was all. I made doubly sure that I had my most prized possession; Vash's school tie. Although we all wore school uniform, very few of us wore the official school tie, but Vash had always worn his; so I determined that in future I would always wear Vash's tie to school as a tribute to him.
Eventually we were all loaded up and off we went to the new wing. It wasn't until we got there that I noticed for the first time whom they had named the wing after. All of the wards and suites were named after famous literary men and women, and the new wing had been named after Oscar Wilde; appropriately one of the most famous gay men in our history.
We began to unload the trolley and although the rooms in the new wing were slightly smaller, there was plenty of room for everything. Wes sat us down together and explained that his new responsibilities would not give him as much time to spend with individual patients, but we weren't to feel as though he was neglecting us; we only had to ring the buzzer and he would be with us. He also said that with the new layout, i.e. a shared bathroom, it would be all too easy to invade one another's privacy, and although he guessed that we would be spending a lot of time together, we might each want some time to ourselves. The bathroom doors, therefore, should be an indication of that. If we found our partner's bathroom door was closed, we were to respect their privacy unless we thought that anything amiss was going on, in which case we were to buzz for the nurse on duty and they would deal with it.
When Wes left us, it seemed strange being in our new rooms and we both wandered around for a while getting used to our new surroundings and exploring the views form our windows. After about half an hour Bobby wandered into my room. "Can I come in?" He asked. I held out my arms and he came to me.
"You don't have to ask." I said. "Remember, if my bathroom door's open you're welcome. Besides, I want to be with you as much as possible."
We sat on the sofa and did what people in love did, and we did what boys did and generally revelled in one another's company.
"So where are you going to sleep tonight?" Bobby asked.
"In bed." I replied with a non-committal smile.
"But whose?" He asked, smiling back.
"Mine, of course." I said.
"Alone?" He asked with a disappointed look.
"I hope not." I replied. His look of disappointment immediately changed to one of joy and he kissed me again.
"Let's not get too excited just now." I said. "Otherwise we might not get around to everything tonight."
"Everything?" He asked with a lecherous grin.
"Everything." I replied, equally lecherously.
We actually spent the entire day together. We played music together, walked arm in arm in the grounds, ate together, dozed together, watched television together, at one point we even peed together.
After dinner we sat to watch TV, but our attention kept wandering. After a few minutes Bobby's fingers wandered to my shirt and he slowly unbuttoned it and began playing with my nipples and chest. He was wearing a polo shirt and after a couple of minutes I pulled it over his head and leaned over to kiss him. I began at his neck and ended at his nave, kissing and licking all parts in between. Bobby was already barefoot as he had been all day, I had removed my trainers after we'd had our walk in the garden, but now Bobby knelt and removed my socks.
"Why do you always go barefoot?" I asked him.
"I don't know, I just always have." He said. "My kid brother's the same."
"Where is your brother?" I asked.
"He lives in the States with my real dad." Bobby said sadly.
"You get on with him?" I asked.
Bobby laughed. "We used to fight like cat and dog, but I love him, and I really miss him now."
He sat next to me again. "But this isn't about my little brother, this is about us." Bobby said, reaching to unbuckle my belt. I grabbed the elasticated waist of his shorts and pulled them slowly downwards. He wasn't wearing any underwear so his soft cock was immediately exposed.
Bobby stepped out of his shorts and then pulled my trousers to my ankles. Then he grabbed the waistband of my pants pulled them down too. I stepped out of them and we stood and looked at one another's naked forms. We both started to get hard at the same time. I took Bobby's hand and we walked to my bed. I laid Bobby on his back and knelt astride him in the classic sixty-nine position and we began to pleasure one another. This was really familiar territory for me as this had been Vash's favourite way of getting off. I could feel Bobby's tongue sliding under my foreskin and I was suddenly as hard as I had ever been. I remember I briefly felt sorry for Bobby as he would never experience this, having no foreskin himself, but I did my best for him and judging from the snorts and moans I was doing a pretty good job. Bobby released my cock from his mouth and began sucking on my left testicle, and then it disappeared into his mouth. I was a little worried that he might bite on it as he was preoccupied with his own feelings, but it emerged intact, only to be substituted with my right which also came to no harm. I expected Bobby to go back down on my cock, but he was nearing orgasm and went into a little world of his own until he shot his juices into my mouth. I savoured the sweet, sticky cum and bent down to share it with him.
"Sorry," He murmured. "It was so intense I couldn't think of anything else."
"It's OK." I said. Maybe later ...
"Oh no, now." Bobby said, pushing me off him so that he could lift his legs into the air, offering me his love chute.
"Oh wow." I said. "Are you sure?"
"Sure am." Bobby said. "I want you inside me, and I want it NOW." He said. "There's some lube in the bedside cabinet. You won't have to loosen me up much, I'm well used to taking it."
I didn't need a second invitation. I grabbed the lube and pressed one and then two fingers inside him.
"I think that'll be enough." He said, hurriedly.
"PLEASE get your cock inside me NOW" He pleaded.
I pressed against his opening and my glans slipped easily inside. Bobby gasped. "Sorry," I said quickly.
"Don't be." He said. "It feels fantastic. I can take it all now,"
I pushed gently inside until I was sheathed to the hilt. I was in heaven. This had been Vash's worst nightmare and he had only let me fuck him twice; consequently he thought that it was the same for everyone and after only one attempt, refused to fuck me.
"That feels fantastic Kyri," Bobby said. "It's up to you to pleasure yourself now. Whatever you do will be great with me." I began to pull out, and when just the glans was left inside I pushed in again. Bobby moaned with pleasure, and as I began my rhythmic thrusting I couldn't control my own grunts and groans. Being inside Bobby was a feeling that I had longed for and been denied, but I was going to make the most of it now, although how long I could hold out for was another matter.
I surprised myself by holding out for several minutes, but when I could contain myself no longer the feeling of ecstasy as I emptied my load was indescribable, and what made it all the more enjoyable was that Bobby shot his second load just a few seconds before me.
I collapsed on top of him in a euphoric haze and Bobby's juice was squashed between us, cementing us together. I slid off him and we lay in one another's arms, totally spent but very much in love, proving that there is, indeed, life after Vashisht.