USUAL INTRO & THANKS ====================
Phew! It's been a bumper couple of days for email (as many since Part 7 went out as during Parts 1-4 combined). And 90% of you wanted to express support for my little rant at the end of Part 7, for which I am very grateful! I think I answered them all, but if I missed you out I truly am sorry (but 542 messages since part 1 was posted on the 24th of July is a LOT!), they are all important to me and I don't send stock responses, even if some of my answers are very short. Anyway, as always I am happy to receive comments, or I wouldn't put my email address in here (ardveche@hotmail.com, username on AOL and MSN ardveche). So keep them coming. Time to answer some more generic questions, I think, these are all ones I've been asked more than ten times and I'm getting sick of answering!
- Is Matt your boyfriend? - No, Matt is a reader who I have chatted extensively with and who has helped focus me on the task in hand, for which I am very thankful. 2) Are you single? - Yes, I am. 3) Where do you live? - In Scotland, this has surprised a lot of people, but I swear it's true. 4) Are you Drew? - No I am not. This is a work of fiction, my own High School years were nothing like that - sadly! 5) Is Lois a real person? - She's a composite of a lot of people I know including teachers, friends and relatives. The only vaguely 'real' person is Kate, and she knows who she is! 6) How old are you? - Strangely, although I answered this last time I keep being asked. I'm 24, and a Sagittarius, so I'll be a quarter century before long. Aargh! 7) Is Tyler gay? - I answered this too, but you don't believe me. I don't know yet. What do you think? 8) What's coming next? - I don't know that either, please believe that I don't know what will be in a chapter until I write it. 9) Are you going to try to get this published? - For a more detailed answer, see end. 10)Will you finish it here first? - Yes I will. And properly too, I owe all the people who are reading a satisfactory ending.
Now that that's out of the way (and that's the longest intro yet), lets get on. As always, if you want updates, just mail me and ask to be put on the list. For everyone on it already, I am so sorry I forgot to Bcc it last time! And I meant no offence to anyone with the postscript to Part 7, I truly didn't.
DISCLAIMER ==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2000 - ardveche@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between consenting (all over the legal age, at least in my jurisdiction they are) males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
Now, if everyone who is still here is meant to be here, let's get on with it. All comments are welcome and gratefully received (email them to ardveche@hotmail.com).
NEW TO THIS STATE =================
Chapter 8 - Weekenders
It took Curtis a few minutes to recover sufficiently to be able to speak, and when he did it was still pretty incoherent! He thanked us several more times and hugged each of us again and swabbed repeatedly at his face with his shirt sleeve. All in all it was a very touching scene, and the crying aside it reminded me of Christmas as a kid. I got the feeling that since his mom died, Curtis hadn't got too many presents. I felt really good about myself for the first time that day, that I could make him that happy for a few bucks I didn't really need seemed somehow wonderful.
"If you boys are going to keep this up, please go to another room, I need to water my plants." I had hardly even been aware of Lois being there I was so caught up with Tyler in the gift giving and with Curtis.
"Sorry, Lois!" We all said as one, and again we all burst out laughing, again Curtis begged us to stop and clutched at himself in pain.
"And your clothes, young Mr. Reid, smell of smoke! Drew's mother will not approve. So take yourselves out of my way, and I'll expect a private recital later. Okay?"
"Okay." And we all trooped out obediently.
"Oh, Lois!" I called suddenly remembering something and popping my head back in. "I forgot, there's a ton of stuff in the laundry..."
"Already on it, it'll be done this evening. Go, go, go." And she made shooing motions at me, but the smile on her face and the twinkle in her eye told me that the little scene in the kitchen had touched her as much as the rest of us.
"I ought to put my stuff away." Curtis said to me as we slowly climbed the stairs.
"I'll help later."
"There's one box, Drew! How much help do you think I need?"
"Okay, well I'll talk to you while you do it?"
"You can bother me on one condition."
"Which is?"
"You lend me some cologne?"
"Done. But you can keep it, I don't want it back used." I grinned at him.
"Oh, ha ha! You're not funny."
"I'm not?" I tried to look all 'lost little boy' at him, but it wasn't working.
"Only to look at."
"Shut up." Secretly I could not be more pleased that he was coming back to himself so quickly, so I didn't even mind the point scoring.
"Will you two give it a rest?" Tyler was watching us with a grin on his face. We all climbed up to my room and Tyler quickly occupied the only chair (legs crossed at the ankles and stuck out in front of him) with a quick flick of his eyebrows at me, which meant Curtis and I had to sit on the bed. I made a mental note to take Lois up on her offer of furniture from other rooms as soon as possible. Not that I didn't want to sit with one of them, just so I could have people round and not do it Japanese style on the floor. Though there were some people I'd 'do on the floor' without hesitation! If you take my point.
Curtis brought one leg up over the other and rested the guitar on it, I admired the dark, shiny wood of the instrument as he plucked at the strings and twiddled the little, well, twiddly things (what are they called?) until he nodded in satisfaction and looked up at us, with a small, shy smile.
"You guys really want me to play something?" He looked apprehensive.
"Yes!" We chorused.
"Um, okay, but my arm hurts like hell, so it's not going to be that great. Okay? What should I play?"
"Something your mom would've liked." I said without thinking and then brought my hand up to my mouth and silently appealed for forgiveness with my eyes. He just smiled gently at me and nodded, something distant about his lovely green eyes. I winced inwardly at the bruising round his eye and the new scar his father had inflicted on him - but something about it, rather than detracting from his appearance, made him even cuter.
"Okay, this is, um, 'Where Have All The Flowers Gone'?" He looked at us to see if we knew what he was talking about. "Um, well, it's meant to be. It was one of her favorites." And so saying, he started to play, and it was great. I really mean that, it was obviously hurting him to sit like that and play, but even so, he played it beautifully. I sat and watched the delicate Polynesian dance of his fingers on the strings and the fret and smiled like an idiot at how this one simple thing had made him so happy. Curtis was looking down at what he was doing and concentrating intently, so I sneaked a glance at Tyler and saw that he was grinning too. He played through one whole verse, and then, tentatively, began to sing along with it, and he had a surprisingly pleasant voice. To be honest, I think he had pretty much forgotten we were there, as his voice gained strength.
"Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing. Where have all the flowers gone,? Long time ago. Where have all the flowers gone? Young girls picked them, every one. When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?" And then, to my utter astonishment, Tyler joined in, his voice lower and far quieter than Curtis's and not so sure, maybe even not on key, but I was amazed by the two of them. He nodded as he sang along and when Curtis finally got to the end he looked up at Tyler who was shaking his head in amazement too. I applauded them both with genuine enthusiasm.
"I remember that, from when I used to come round to your place. Joan, something, um, Baez? I remember your mom singing it to us."
"Yes. Joan Baez."
"She had a fantastic voice, your mom."
"Yes." Curtis nodded slowly. There didn't seem to be anymore to add, and he quickly changed the subject, but it was clear he was touched by Tyler's recollection. "How 'bout something more modern now?" Tyler glanced at his watch.
"Why not? But then I have to run to practice. Whatcha gonna give us?"
"Um, well Drew likes 'Savage Garden', right?" His earlier reticence to play seemed to have vanished for the time being. Maybe in the face of Tyler's and my enthusiasm for the last song.
"Right."
"How about, 'Two Beds and a Coffee Machine'?"
"My favorite!" I supplied. It never used to be, but after the departure from my old life it had seemed strangely poignant to me, and I was hopelessly impressed that he'd chosen it, even if I'd never heard it played on a guitar. Once he started playing I became aware that the song had significance not just for me and lines like 'another bruise to try and hide' or 'there's hope in the darkness' and 'the years go by so fast' seemed the more relevant and agonizing when Curtis sang them than they ever had before. I was absurdly moved by it, and felt that my heart might burst with affection and sympathy for this brave and complicated young man.
"Fantastic. Curtis, you should be in a band, buddy." Tyler said slapping his hands on his thighs and standing up. His voice shook me from my reverie, and I tore my gaze from Curtis's face and turned to face Tyler, I felt choked. "But, I have to go or the Coach'll skin me alive I'll see you guys around, okay?"
"Okay. And, Tyler? Thanks for everything." Curtis rose to his feet and propped the guitar against the bookcase.
"Hey, no problem. That's what friends are for, right?" And he stepped round me to gave Curtis a quick hug. "You take it easy, and get better, or I'LL kick your ass!" He smiled at Curtis and then at me and headed for the door. "See ya!" He called as he disappeared from view and I heard him thunder down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard him call his thanks to Lois and moments after that his car pulled out of the drive and silence descended over the house.
"Curtis, that was beautiful." He had plunked back down on the bed and flopped onto his back, hand thrown over his eyes.
"Yeah?" He smiled shyly, and looked up at where I was sitting beside him, at my face as though to gauge if I meant it or not, and something there must have reassured him. "I'm glad you liked it."
"I'll never think of it the same way again." I really meant that, but he looked at me for a moment and burst out laughing. "What?" I wanted to know.
"It's only a song, Drew. Sure it's good, but don't get all mooshy on me."
"Mooshy?" I was incredulous, but the big grin on his face made me laugh.
"That's what I said."
"I'll show you mooshy." And so saying I pinned him down by his shoulders and kissed him full on the lips, and held it for ages. When I sat up straight again, his eyes were closed and he pulled in a huge breath and let it out slowly.
"Wow!"
"You taste of smoke." I stated matter-of-factly and we both started laughing again. I lay down beside him to get my breath back, both our legs hanging over the end of the bed, his hand sought out mine, and squeezed.
"Drew? Can I ask you something?"
"Um, yeah, sure." I was worried this was going to be something I couldn't answer.
"Can I borrow your toothpaste." I turned my head and saw a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh again.
"Goof!" I said hitting his arm.
"Ow!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" I way overdid the sincerity and solicitousness of my response. "Here, let me kiss you better." And for the second time in five minutes I kissed him on the lips. I felt his part slightly and the tip of his tongue touched mine, cautiously. I jerked my head back and sat up straight.
"Drew, I'm sorry, I thought..." His face was a picture of contrition.
"You thought right! But you need to borrow that toothpaste first!"
"You bastard!"
"I never claimed to be nice. But you taste like an ashtray, buddy!"
"You kissed a lot of ashtrays?" He smirked at me.
"I never kiss and tell."
"And anyhow, you bought me the damn cigarettes!" A fair point, and one I had forgotten about.
"And you still owe me the money!" I shot back.
"You know, I don't normally smoke as much as today, right?" He was suddenly serious.
"Sure. I know, it's been a stressful day. But you know, you could chew gum or something instead?"
"Yeah, I know. Would you mind if I took a shower?"
"Curtis, if you're staying here, and you are, you don't need to ask before taking a shower. Okay?"
"But..."
"And the clean towels are in the closet by the window."
"So I'm taking it up here, huh? In your boudoir?" He drew the last word out lasciviously, puckering his lips on the vowel sounds, and looked utterly ridiculous doing it.
"You can dance around on the lawn under a hose for all I care."
"You'd like that, huh?"
"Well...!" Actually, it wouldn't have been so very, very bad!
"Pervert. I need to get some stuff from downstairs." And he pushed himself slowly upright and left me sitting on the bed contemplating the events since Tyler's departure. What had I done? Why had I done it? Was it fair to him while I felt the way I did about Tyler? Did I feel that way about Tyler? I had a dozen questions, and I needed to take some time to do some serious thinking before I allowed my hormones to take control again. I had to know if I had kissed him because I was genuinely attracted to him, or because I felt sorry for him. I was still pondering such questions when he returned. I favored him with what I hoped was a sunny smile.
"Ready. Coming with?" He asked with a grin and a raised eyebrow.
"No. I think I'll let you handle this by yourself."
"No fun."
"Go wash. You stink."
"Is it okay to use, like, your soap and stuff?" What was with these questions?
"Yes! Go."
"Thanks." And I was alone with my thoughts again. It seemed like forever before the sound of running water started up, but I guess it took him a while to shuck his clothes without assistance. Maybe I should have gone in with him? Not out of horniness you understand, but as a purely humanitarian effort. How could you think anything else? He was in there for maybe forty minutes, most of which time I was staring blankly out the window. I know, I was supposed to be thinking deep thoughts, but in fact my mind was mostly blank, I just stood and stared and it wasn't until the water shut off and I looked at the clock that I realized how much time had in fact passed.
I waited a few moments and then the door opened, and in a cloud of steam a still dripping Curtis emerged. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was vigorously drying his hair with a second. For the first time I really looked at his body, and I was not disappointed with what I saw (apart from the discoloring of his bruises which still made me suck my breath in involuntarily), he was a pretty well built man. Smooth, with nice definition, not like rippling with muscles, but just nice, solid. He stopped toweling his hair and looked at me with his head on one side.
"Five dollah, me love you long time, soldiah boy." He said in the most dreadful oriental accent I have ever heard. I laughed loudly and pitched a pillow at him, missing completely.
"I think I liked you better when you didn't talk!" I said when I got my breath back.
"Charming. Listen, um, Drew?"
"What?"
"What happened to my clothes?"
"Oh. We put them all in the laundry."
"Ah, well. Then, I guess you have a choice."
"Which is?"
"Keep me up here naked, or lend me some clothes."
"What was option one again?"
"Funny."
"Yeah, okay, help yourself." I threw open the wardrobe to let him browse my pants and shirts. I stood by the open door and waited.
"Wow. Why do you need so many shirts? You could open a store."
"Just pick something, wise ass." He stared at them for a few seconds longer and then selected a plain dark green one in a fairly heavy cloth and a pair of khaki cargo pants.
"These okay?"
"Sure."
"Thanks." He stood holding the two items and I stood watching him hold the two items. Nothing happened. "Um, you're not going to stay and watch are you?" He seemed quite nervous about the prospect, I honestly hadn't been thinking, I know I'd have wanted some privacy.
"Oh. Sorry, I'll wait outside. Call if you need anything." I winked.
"Thanks, man."
"T-shirts, shorts and socks are in the dresser."
"Cool." I walked out, pulling the door to behind me and waited quietly with my back and hands pressed against the wall and my eyes closed. I heard a few drawers open and close and then a sort of muffled grunt. A few minutes passed where I could hear nothing.
"Drew?"
"Yes?" I called back without moving or opening my eyes.
"Could you come in here for a minute?" I pushed off the wall and swung round into the room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked from the waist, shirt and T-shirt lying beside him.
"Problem?" I asked, he nodded and bit his lower lip. "What?"
"Um, bandages. I think my back is still bleeding a little, and I don't want to mess up your shirt." I checked his back, and there was no blood, but I could see that any exertion might open up some of the cuts and start them going again.
"Okay, wait here." I ran down the stairs to find the medicine chest and liberated a few rolls of bandages, gauze, scissors and some surgical tape. He was sitting where I left him when I returned, with a forlorn, hangdog expression on his face. "If the wind changes you'll stay like that." I commented depositing everything on the bed beside him. He smiled weakly, and I found myself wondering if his mood ever stayed the same for more than a few minutes at a time. I guess he just didn't like being dependent on someone else, or being in this situation, and who could blame him? I assessed the situation for a moment or two and then made my best stab at imitating Lois's work of the previous day, it took a while and it was nowhere near as neat, but nothing seemed in danger of coming undone or falling off and I was quite pleased with myself.
"Thanks." He muttered as I finished up. He had sat silently throughout, moving limbs as and when asked to and generally being very pliant.
"Florence Nightingale, I'm not, but I think they'll hold."
"You're a riot, Quinn."
"I know." I gave him a lopsided half smile, half grimace. "You know, I could get used to this, having you at my mercy."
"Yeah? Excites you does it?"
"A little." I tried to downplay it, remembering that I was meant to be sorting out my feelings before I led him on anymore.
"Bet I can excite you more. And without even touching you." He fixed me with his gaze and an enigmatic smile.
"Oh? How." I was intrigued, he beckoned me a little closer, I leant forward and he beckoned again, as I moved nearer he brought his mouth level with my ear and whispered in it.
"I'm wearing your underwear."
And you know what? At the same time as amusing the hell out of me, that was a pretty exciting thought. I mean, ordinarily that'd be a fairly icky thought, but they were clean and straight out the drawer, so it was a bit different. I doubled up with laughter and by the time I recovered he'd slipped the T-shirt on and was trying to yank the shirt out from under me so he could put that on too. I rolled over and let him have the shirt after a moment or two to catch my breath. I sat up on the edge of the bed as he went to retrieve his dirty clothes from the bathroom.
"You're incorrigible!" I told his back.
"But sexy." I made no response as he padded back towards me, dumping his clothes and boots in a heap by the bed. He stood looking down at me as he carefully replaced the crucifix around his neck. "And you owe me a kiss!"
"Yeah? Well you owe me a blow-job!" I shot back and then wished I hadn't. So much for casual and distant. So much for not leading him on. So much for controlling my hormones!
"Jeez! And I thought that was charity work." He smiled at me, and I didn't feel quite so bad about my comment after all, he seemed to be taking it as a joke. "Maybe we can work out some kinda payment plan later?"
"Cash is fine." I decided that making light of it all was the way to play it.
"Damn, I don't have any."
"Sure you do, and a lot of it." I froze and wished there was some way for the earth to open up and consume me. The smile was gone from his face, and he looked really angry. I really have to work on that whole thinking and then speaking thing I hear so much about.
"Do I." Both words came out flatly, and it was clear he was trying to control himself and not shout at me, it didn't work. "What the fuck else did you snoop through?"
"The tobacco tin." I said, deciding to be honest with him. "It fell out of your coat pocket and there were drugs in it. I had to be sure there was nothing else, that my mom might find." I tried to sound sorry.
"Yeah? You read my letters too?"
"No!" He turned away from me and walked over to the window. It was clear that he was fighting to remain calm, but his knuckles where white from clenching his fists so hard. I stayed where was and waited for him to say something else.
"So what theory did you and jock-boy come up with to explain it all?" He said slowly and deliberately.
"Don't call him that!" I snapped.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you and him were an item. Oh no, I remember now, you're not." I decided to let that comment go, hurtful though it was, and calculated to be so.
"You have to admit it looks suspicious."
"Not if you'd left it alone it wouldn't."
"Well I did. And I'm sorry. But it looks like you're dealing, try to see it from my point of view." I pleaded.
"Why the fuck should I do that?" His back was still to me. But before I could answer he went on. "So you think I'm dealing?"
"It looks like it. Are you?"
"Did you count the money."
"No."
"There's exactly one thousand, one hundred eighty dollars in that box. If I'm dealing, I'm not very good at it, am I?" I was surprised, it had looked like a lot more than that. His not looking at me was beginning to get to me, so I got up and walked over to him, putting my hand on his back.
"Curtis. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have looked through your stuff. We had no right." He felt very tense.
"No. You shouldn't." He relaxed a little and turned to look at me. "You want to know where that money came from?"
"Not if you don't want to tell me."
"I worked for it."
"Oh."
"Yeah. 'Oh.' I've been pumping gas and checking oil for people like you and Tyler, and trying to save some of what I earn, for more than two years. Good going, huh? One thousand dollars. You probably got ten times that in some savings account, huh?" That hit home. I fact, there was less than ten times that in my savings, but his point was a good one. I hadn't worked for one cent of mine.
"Curtis, I'm sorry."
"You said."
"I'm going to straighten stuff up downstairs."
"I could help."
"No. I've got it." He picked up his clothes, grunting slightly as he bent for them, and walked out of the room without another word. I was about to go after him, but decided against it when I reached the door to my room. I'd let him have some time to cool down. I was pacing in my room, beating myself up for being so dumb when I heard my mother getting back from work. I went downstairs, Curtis's door was closed and there was no sound from behind it, so I continued down to the kitchen, in time to bump into my mom as she came in the front door.
"Hey, honey. How was your day?"
"It had its ups and downs." I answered, and left it at that. We walked into the kitchen together, where Lois was ironing one of Curtis's shirts. My mother looked at the pile of laundry, and then at both of us.
"Where did that come from?"
"Um, Curtis's place. He went over today to get some things."
"I see." There was a pause. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not being told everything?" Lois and I looked at one another and she sort of shrugged at me.
"He gave me the slip on the way over." I supplied, so much for not telling her. I guess pretty much every resolution I had made today, I had gone on to break. "His dad was there, and he hit him again. Tyler and me handled it though."
"I can't believe you were so stupid, Andrew."
"Huh?"
"To put yourself in that situation. What if you'd been hurt?"
"I wasn't."
"That's not the point."
"What is?"
"The point is, that boy has been nothing but trouble since you met him. I'm sorry for his problems, but he has no right to drag you into them as well, and put you in danger."
"He didn't 'drag me in', I went after him because he's my friend."
"As soon as he's well enough, I think he should find somewhere else to stay. There must be a relative or somebody he could..." She was cut off before she could say anything more, by Lois who had stood silently throughout the exchange.
"Margaret. This is my house, and the boy will stay here until I say otherwise. And that's an end to it." She said with decision.
"Mother!"
"Don't 'mother' me. Andrew is fine, no harm came of it except a few more bruises for Curtis. If anything, you should be praising Andrew, not scolding him, for being such a good friend that he would take risks for that poor boy. Now I don't want to hear another word." And she went back to placidly ironing the shirt, but her tone made it clear that there was to be no further discussion of the subject.
"Fine." My mother was not happy. She walked out of the room and silence reigned.
"Thanks." I said.
"Why? She's right. You were stupid, but I already told you that." Great, even Lois was turning on me. I left the room too, and went back up to mine. So there we well, all four of us in separate rooms, none of us communicating. Fabulous. What a great day. I sat on my bed and read some more of the 'Analects', trying to concentrate on it and make some sense of it. Time passed slowly, and after about two hours, my mother tapped at the doorframe and when I called out she came into the room.
"Hi."
"I'm sorry, Andrew."
"Okay."
"Dinner'll be ready soon, come downstairs." I got up and followed her downstairs. In the kitchen, Curtis was perched on a stool talking to Lois as she busied herself by the oven. He stopped as I walked in. I felt totally ill at ease, in what was supposed to be my own house. "Boys, would you set the table?" My mother smiled at me as she said this.
"'kay." I went to the drawer where the cutlery was kept, leaving Curtis to handle everything else. As he squeezed past me to get the pepper mill, he put both hands on my waist and whispered in my ear.
"Cheer up." And then, with my mother in the room (but thankfully looking the other way), he tentatively kissed my cheek. So maybe everyone was prepared to forgive me and we could all be friends again. I guess I'd done my penance sitting alone in my room.
Dinner passed uneventfully, we chatted a little about stuff that had happened that day. I told my mom about Kate and Tyler coming over, Curtis told about the gift of the guitar and then I embarrassed him horribly by going on and on about how good he was until even my mother was forced to tell me to stop. After dinner, and once the kitchen was cleaned up a little, he even agreed, reluctantly, to get the guitar and play a few songs for my mom and Lois, who proved as appreciative an audience as Tyler and I had earlier. Finally, Lois produced a Scrabble set and Curtis, sensibly as it turned out, professed exhaustion and excused himself to a chorus of further praise and 'good nights'. Leaving me to face mom and Lois in what turned into a humiliating defeat for me and a battle royal between them. Seems they played a lot when my mom was at college and had developed a real competitive edge for the game - I had no idea that scores could go that high! In the end, though, it was Lois who won. I don't know about you, but I hate a good loser more than a sore loser. They just sit back and smile and then talk about luck, and praise you for doing so well and it really, really ticks me off!
"Well guys. Wish I could say it had been fun. But I'm going to turn in." I said rising to my feet on legs wobbly from kneeling on the floor for hours.
"Goodnight, dear."
"Sleep well."
And I made my way slowly to my room. Again, I stopped by Curtis's door, but no light was showing and it was silent, so I gathered up my resolve and continued up the stairs. I threw myself under the shower and tried to make sense of everything that had transpired, but my mind refused to work. So when I finally slipped between the sheets and lay back, I was no closer to knowing my own mind than I had been twenty-four hours before. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying conversations I had had with Tyler in a effort to find clues that he was concealing his sexuality, but they kept getting tangled up with memories of how good it had felt to be with Curtis the previous night, and how wonderful it had felt when he kissed me. I was still turning these things over and over in my mind, when there was a tiny tap at the door and a voice came to me out of the darkness.
"Knock, knock."
"Curtis?"
"No. Father Christmas. Can I come in?"
"Do you have presents for me?"
"Maybe."
"Good enough, you can come in." He padded across the floor to the bed and sat down on the other side from me. I rolled on to my side, to face him, and propped myself up on one elbow, my head resting on my hand.
"You look cute, when you're all mussed up."
"And at other times?"
"Pretty ugly." He smiled at me, and I could see the whiteness of his teeth in the dark, but that was all, I reached for the light switch. "No. Leave it."
"Why?"
"This way you can't see the bruises." There was a pause. "Permission to come aboard?"
"Granted." I pulled the covers back, and he swung himself in beside me. Instantly, I could feel the warmth of his body lying beside me. He slid a little closer, and I placed my other hand on his chest and looked down into his eyes.
"Sorry about this afternoon, Drew."
"S'okay. I was in the wrong."
"Yeah, but I over-reacted. I've been hiding that money for so long, you know? In case my old man took it. I should've been more, well...I don't know. But I was over the top, and I'm sorry. I guess I'm just kinda protective of my personal stuff."
"Forget about it."
We lay in silence like that for a while, me gently stroking back and forth across his chest and belly, until my other arm cramped a little and I rolled on to my back. He rolled with me, so he was now on his side, and laid his head on my chest.
"I can hear your heart." He whispered, running his hand across my chest now.
"And?"
"It's pounding." And it was, my heart was going like a train, and blood was rushing everywhere blood will tend to rush in situations like that. His fingers twitched my T-shirt up and I experienced a thrill as they touched the bare skin of my belly beneath. I drew in my breath sharply and he paused. "Okay?"
"Wonderful."
"How about now?" His fingers slipped under the waistband of my shorts and glided further down, through the patch of hair, and slowly circled my now fully erect penis. Ever so gently he began to move his hand back and forth.
"Oh. Wow. Yes. Great." Each word came out as a tiny gasp.
"So about that payment plan?" He raised his head and kissed my chin lightly.
"Well." I said. "Let's deal with the kiss I owe you first?"
"You got it." And without letting go, he pulled himself a few inches up the bed and placed his lips on mine. We kissed gently like that, trading pecks to one another's lips and cheeks, and he even kissed my nose once. Finally, he returned his lips to mine, which I readily parted and reveled in the fantastic sensation of his tongue in my mouth. And the minty fresh taste! Wow. His hands on my body, his lips on mine and his tongue moving against mine in the warm, wet cavity formed by our mouths was the single most thrilling experience I had shared with him so far. I could have lain like that forever, just holding him and kissing him, but after a while he broke the kiss.
"Take off your shirt." He instructed me. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, but I obeyed quickly. "This is the first time I've seen your body, you know."
"And?" I asked a little hesitantly.
"And it's okay." He grinned at me.
"Fuck you."
"Really?" He kissed me again and then began to trace his tongue and lips across my upper body, paying special attention to my nipples, which felt fantastic. Throughout all of this, his hand had never left my shorts, and his gentle manipulation hadn't slowed or stopped.
"You'd, um, you'd let me do that?" I asked quietly, hesitantly, not wanting him to think that I was some kind of weirdo. It was something I couldn't imagine ever wanting someone to do to me.
"Maybe." He answered, stopping his kissing for a moment. "Eventually."
"Have you done it before?" I asked him.
"Been fucked?" I nodded in answer. "Yes."
"You have?"
"Yes."
"And what's it, what's it like?"
"Painful at first, but once you get used to it, it's good."
"I can't imagine that."
"Here. Try this." He pulled himself up into a kneeling position and moved between my legs, pulling my shorts down in one easy movement. I felt a sudden fear that he was going to try to enter me then and there, and I pulled away a little. "Relax." He lowered his head, and took me in his mouth, using his hand to guide me in. God it felt good, my second ever blow-job. He sucked me for a moment or two and then lifted his head off and smiled at me. "Payback." He whispered, slipping a finger into his mouth.
"Yes. Please." I moaned back at him, and then he returned to the task, it felt wonderful. I was squirming slightly, and enjoying the sensations coursing through me when I felt the tip of his finger pressing against me. At the moment that it pressed through the ring of muscle barring entry he swallowed me whole and I felt my head slipping down into his throat. Well, I may be an amateur, but it was clear that he'd one this before. It was fantastic! I can't think of any other way to describe it and leave myself with a stronger term to describe what came next. As he swallowed me over and over, his free hand roaming my chest, he pressed his finger in deeper and deeper, and just when I thought the low ache was going to be too much for me he touched something that sent a shock through me. I'd read enough to know he'd hit my prostate, it was mind-blowing. The tip of his finger worked gently at it as his mouth sent wave after wave of pleasure through me. I couldn't hold back, and I came again and again in his throat with an ecstatic groan.
I sagged back as I came down from my sexual high, and realized that both my hands were knotted tightly in his hair. I let go as he removed his finger and let my penis slip from his mouth. He drew himself slowly up my body until our faces were level, and I could feel some of his weight resting on me and the insistent pressure of his erection against my thigh.
"How was that?"
"Amazing! I've never felt anything like it."
"So is the debt paid?
"More than! I owe you know to even things up." He smiled and bent to kiss me, repeatedly. "That thing you did?"
"Which one?"
"With the finger?"
"Oh, that. You liked?"
"I loved! Is that what being, you know, fucked, feels like?"
"A little, but most dicks are a hell of a lot bigger than a finger. So it hurts much more going in." He continued his kissing.
"Have you ever done it to someone?" I thought about the size of him, bigger than me, and certainly bigger than his finger.
"No."
"Would you do it to me?" I asked before I could change my mind. He froze and stared at me. I held his gaze, determined to show him I was serious.
"Not without protection. And I don't have any."
"Oh. Okay."
"And I don't think you're really ready anyway. Neither am I." He kissed me again, and I returned it enthusiastically, wrapping my arms round his back and pulling him down on top of me.
"Okay. You'd better roll on your back then, so we can settle this account." I let go of him and pushed at him, and with an 'oof' and an indrawn breath he rolled off me. "Ready?"
"Are you kidding?"
I lowered his shorts and took him in my hand as I had the night before, and leaning over him began to lick around the head and along his length. I took him in my mouth and tried to swallow him as he had me, but found I couldn't without gagging, so I nursed on him and worked with my hands on his shaft and on his balls. As with before, it seemed like no time at all before his grip on me tightened and he too went over the edge. As I swallowed, and savored the feeling and flavor of him, I realized with surprise that I had never been happier. That this was where I wanted to be. And he was who I wanted to be with. I lay back beside him and pulled the covers over both our spent bodies before rolling against him and kissing him gently.
"You know what you said last night?"
"What?"
"You said you loved me."
"You heard that?"
"Yes."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Don't be." I paused for effect. "I think, maybe, I love you too."
TO BE CONTINUED ===============