Part eighteen: `Date Night'
Luke Shaw stood in front of the biggest mirror in his Manchester apartment, and fussed for too long over what to wear. He looked at the baggy designer tshirt he had on in frustration, tugged it off over his smooth chunky torso, and tossed it aside, then pulled on a crisp new shirt to button up. He squinted at the awkward cling of his chosen skinny jeans, and swapped them for the fourth time. About twenty minutes later he was in a totally different outfit of a polo-neck top and black chinos, and somewhere near satisfied. He looked critically at his own handsome reflection, momentarily considered rewinding to three outfits ago, and then told himself not to be such a dick.
`Relax, relax,' he muttered into the mirror, and rubbed his face, his skin soft with moisturiser. He was making too much effort. This was ridiculous. Stop overthinking. But tonight could be... important.
Tonight he was out for a drink with Harry Maguire.
Luke knew he absolutely needed to avoid thinking the word `date', but here he was, fussing over his clothes in a mirror like he was a 16-year-old lad taking some sweetheart out for the first time. He glared at his anxious youthful face in the mirror and rolled his eyes at himself. Stop! Relax!
It had been after the Burnley game yesterday, another 2-0 victory following their destruction of Newcastle, that he had plucked up the courage to suggest it. Pulling Harry aside after little contact in these awkward, busy, post-Christmas days. Making his furtive suggestion, bravely facing rejection, and almost having a little heart attack when the big strong Yorkshiremen turned to him, gave a casual nod, and agreed. And so here they were. It was the day before New Year's Eve, and it was a private drink, just them two, a chance to really figure out this messy few weeks of play that had broken out between them.
Luke pulled a thick jacket on over his polo-neck, slipped on some smarter trainers, and headed out into the night. He'd picked a tiny bar above a swish restaurant, somewhere quiet and discreet and where they could maybe relax and talk a bit more freely. But he'd suggested meeting at a tram stop near his own apartment block, in case Harry was... nervous. Oh yes, because Luke was feeling super chill and confident... hah!
Luke didn't realise how much he had been expecting to be stood up til he was padding down the quiet street to the tram stop, and recognised the tall bulky outline of Harry Maguire in a peacoat and flat cap on the kerb ahead. His heart did an embarrassing flutter. Like some sort of Victorian gentleman or oversized Peaky Blinder, Maguire tipped his cap, and Luke could make out his big grin in the glow of a streetlamp. He took a deep breath.
Evening,' Harry called as he approached. Good to see you mate.'
Luke returned to the greeting, considered a hug, decided it wasn't really appropriate, just touched Harry on the arm, through his sleeves, and gave him what he hoped was a really clear smile of his pleasure to be meeting up. As their eyes met, all Luke could see was the crisp frosty woodland on Christmas day and what had gone on there: he'd had the same problem on the pitch at Burnley, constant flashbacks as the two defenders worked closely together on the job.
`How far to this bar?' Harry grunted.
`Oh, five mins, or so.'
`Cool. Cool.'
`How you feeling? Legs okay after yesterday?'
`Oh sure. Pretty much recovered, lad.'
`Cool, yeah... Same, really.'
They began to chat a bit about their next game, Arsenal on New Year's Day, but neither of them was interested in the topic. It had been such busy days of professional life for them that discussing the upcoming clash was the last thing they wanted... But it was a safe topic. They strolled along the street side by side, heads lowered a bit to reduce the irritation of being recognised, and Luke led them round a corner and towards the quiet little district of bistros and cocktail bars he'd selected, through a less well-lit lane to get to... Suddenly Harry was grabbing at him, and the surprise of it took his breath away.
Harry grabbed his elbow and spun him into the architectural metal wall behind him for a moment, in the shadows of the lane, miraculously free of passers by, and leant in to plant a rough kiss on first his cheek, then his neck, nuzzling at him with stubble, pressing hard hands to his waist and tummy, letting out a long breath, and then pulling away. As quickly as it had begun, the kiss was over, and Harry was strolling on, dragging a hand across his mouth as if wiping away toothpaste. Luke stumbled after him, speechless. Was this a date after all??
At the bar, quiet as hoped, they were given stools at a long table along the window, overlooking the square of fountains and eateries below, and both men ordered safely manly cocktails. Short, whiskey-based, umbrella-less. Luke tried to relax the tension and himself by talking about a nice restaurant across the way, somewhere he'd taken his last couple of girlfriends: in turn, Harry told some inane stories about what they'd bought the baby for Christmas, and vague references to his wedding plans with his fiancée. Luke squirmed a bit at this: was it really a good idea to be reminded of Harry's real life right now?
It was just as they finished these first, strong drinks, and Luke was wondering if he should suggest getting some snacks (too much like a date? Or a good way to ease the awkwardness?) that they were approached by some other figures. Luke, confident in the intimacy of this evening, confused the arrivals for fans, assuming casual drinkers had recognised them and were coming over to fetch an autograph or congratulate them on the last couple of games, or...
Lads,' Harry exclaimed, quietly but assertively, twisting about on his barstool a bit, glad you could make it... was starting to think you wouldn't show.'
Luke immediately realised his error, as the figures reached them in the dimly-lit bar, and leaned on the bar table beside them: it was Mason Greenwood and Daniel James, their corridor buddies from the Watford trip the other week, both smiling a little nervily and dressed up fairly smartly in decent shirts and coats, fresh from the chilly Lancashire night. Luke stared from them to Harry, who seemed to ignore him, just smiling benevolently at the arrivals. Shaw muttered a confused greeting to them, uncertain smiles, another sharp glance for meaning to Maguire.
Go get yourselves drinks then, boys,' Maguire said, and then like some sort of big shot, he flashed a £50 from his jeans pocket and shoved it into Mason's hand. And us. Same again.' He tapped his cocktail glass as if the 18-year-old should instantly recognise what it was, and then the two arrivals drifted away from them again.
Luke stared intently at him. `What?' Harry demanded softly.
Harry,' he murmured a bit weakly, then tried to pull himself together. I thought it was... just us. A drink and a... catch-up.'
Oh, yeah,' Harry said slowly, vaguely. I think that is what you said, yeah... but, I dunno, seemed a shame not to invite a couple of the lads, you know...' Luke found it impossible to hide his sullen pout at this turn of events, his disappointment surely visible on every pore of his face right now: in response, Harry just laughed, affectionately but unapologetically, and squeezed his shoulder.
`But...'
Mate,' grunted Harry playfully, leaning in between their two stools, trust me... it will be better this way.'
`What will?' Luke asked shakily.
What we tried on Christmas,' Harry said, as if this was fully obvious, then patting Luke on the back a bit. Trust me. Stop fretting. All will be good.'
`But...' began Luke again, but he gave up, a bit lost at the redirection of their night's plan. Every time he began to feel any grip on his life at the moment, everything slid away again at a whole new angle. What the fuck was big Harry up to here? Their eyes met, and he couldn't decide if he was pissed off or turned on by the long, smug grin splitting the bigger guy's face in half. And then Dan and Mason were back with them, drinks in hand, putting theirs down on the tabletop.
Harry took his up in one hand, cradled it, and let his beady eyes rove from one lad to another. Well, let's make a toast,' he said, in his low growl of a voice. The other three complied, and glasses clinked briefly. To Luke's arse,' Harry said, and Shaw went scarlet, and shot his nervous eyes from Harry's smirk to the unreadably frozen smiles of Greenwood and James, and then down into his own cocktail. Oh god.. The battle between anger and excitement tensed every muscle in his body, and before he could add any comment to the celebration of his backside, Harry was moving in another direction all over again, `Who can't fucking wait to destroy Arsenal in two days, eh?'
So ensued a good ten minutes of chatter between them over the coming game, just what Luke had already steered the conversation away from, and he could only sit there, hanging off the edge of his barstool, clutching a cocktail, dry-mouthed, feeling a bit sideswiped. Mason was enthusing about the game, reliving the glory of his recent goals for the side, full of nervous energy, and Harry was entertaining him with patient encouragement. Dan looked very tense, but was passionately commenting on how much he was loving his time at United already. Luke struggled to contribute. He watched the other men cautiously: what had Harry actually told them to get them out tonight for this drink? What was actually going on?
After a little while, he flet Harry's hand settle on his leg, just above the knee. So Luke is inviting us all back to his after these,' the big, powerful defender announced in a low voice, and then he turned his eyes on Luke. Ain't that so, Shaw?'
Luke looked at their expectant faces and nodded silently. Okay, so that's where this was heading. Yeh, if you all want to come over,' he mumbled. That's cool.'
Mason nodded and grinned like the eager teenager he was. Cool, I'm up for that,' he piped up. Dan just gave a nervy grin and bit his lip, and then set about finishing his cocktail at speed. Harry gave a lazy smirk and let his hand stroke Luke's knee a bit, giving him a reassuring look with his eyes, as if to repeat Trust me'. Luke found it difficult to finish his own drink now, nervous, but he eventually did so, and he put down the glass with a clink.
The walk back to his apartment was silent, all four men burying themselves in their coats, not looking each other's way. The air of tense sexual expectation settled over them at every step, and Luke almost fucked up the security code getting into the building, he was so put on edge by it all. In the lift, they all seemed to avoid meeting gazes in the dull reflections of the mirror walls, and upstairs on Luke's corridors, he was so shaky-handed with the keys that Greenwood took them off him and did the job. And then they were inside, and things could begin.
Harry, who'd never actually been here before, strolled through the small flat and into Luke's comfy lounge like he owned the place, sliding off his coat and cap and tossing them onto the arm of one sofa, which he slid into, folding his great legs. Luke stood in the centre of the room anxiously, and tried to play host. `Who wants a beer?' he suggested. There was a general murmur of consent. Dan James slipped past him and onto the other sofa, and Mason perched himself on the arm of the couch with Harry, both removing their jackets. Luke left them, nipping into the sleek little kitchen and fetching some IPAs from his fridge. When he returned, Dan was already stripping off, watched by Harry and Mason.
That's it,' Maguire purred, get yourself naked, you little Welsh slut.'
Luke passed cans to the other two, and watched as Dan finished unbuttoning his silky print shirt and yanked it off to expose his hard-muscled young body, all compact and lightly tanned, his face nervous and cute under the curly mop of his hair. Right, well, if this was all going to be about Harry's fucking ego, he could push things too. He cracked open his can, took two swigs, and joined Dan on the other small sofa, sinking down next to him as the younger lad undid his black jeans and pushed them down to his knees, sat in just his trademark tighty whities once more. Luke grabbed him to him, feeling the nervous heat of his body, and began kissing him openly in front of the other two. There was a bit of a gasp from Greenwood and a dirty chuckle from Maguire.
Dan seemed startled enough himself – his first kiss with a bloke – but he relaxed into Luke's gentle touch and insistent mouth action. Soon, he clutched at the tight fabric of Luke's polo shirt and began dragging it upwards. Luke opened his eyes to look over as they made out, wondering if he was sparking any hint of envy in the dominant Yorkshireman opposite – it was impossible to tell, but Harry was definitely stroking himself through his dark blue jeans, and perched next to him, young Mason was doing the same.
Dan,' barked Harry, seeming to seek back control, Lukey boy needs a blowie... get down there...'
Why was Dan so fucking compliant? That was what part of Luke thought, as James' nervous, grasping hands moved down his bare torso to his legs and the lithe youngster slipped off the sofa onto his knees – but obviously, a much bigger part of him was thinking, oh god yes, because his dick was now straining in his chinos. Whilst Dan undid his belt and flies and pulled these trousers down about his thick thighs, he watched Mason shift down into a sitting position by Harry, and at Maguire's guidance, begin stroking both of their crotches as they watched. Fuck, the atmosphere was becoming absolutely electric.
Luke lifted his arse a moment to let Dan get his boxer briefs down and off, all around his ankles, now sat naked, his semi twitching into life, looking down into Dan's strangely innocent face. He was a beautiful lad, and his soft lips on Luke's dick felt immediately satisfying. He stroked his hair gently, thinking what magic they'd released when they corrupted this one in the disabled loos that night. A skilled cocksucker already.
And now Maguire and Greenwood were getting up to undress too. Mason tugging with youthful excitement at his shirt buttons and jeans button fly, while Harry more slowly, provocatively, pulled his woollen jumper up and off, and let the buttons on his short-sleeve white shirt fall away until his long, muscular torso was on show again. Then the two lads were stepping up to the sofa, either side of Shaw and James, pulling their meats out of their undies. Luke lifted his hands expectantly, and took each cock in one – to his right, Harry towering, his dick not quite hard but still a handful already, and to his left, Mason practically fucking his fingers as he easily positioned himself for the start of a handjob. And between Luke's parted fluffy legs, Dan's head bobbing hungrily up and down.
Still fired with a sulky disappointment at the failure of `date night', Luke leaned over to the left, relaxing his hand on Harry's big monster, and dipping his mouth instead to Mason's stiff young bone. Greenwood let out a real gasp of delight, clearly thrilled to be back in this homoerotic blur after their hotel room action, unexpectedly relaxed about it all. Luke lapped his tongue down that slender caramel meat and then took it all in hungrily, hoping that behind him Harry was jealous or disappointed... but he was probably just feeling the voyeur's thrill. Sure enough, Luke felt wet lips pull away from his own cock as Harry claimed back Dan instead. He ignored this and went deep on Greenwood's wood, letting his lips reach the short fluff of pubes, feeling the eager cock brush the back of his throat, almost gagging at this new depth to his sucking.
Then, he felt a hand on him again, his body twisting further left to get better access to Mason: that must be Harry's big hand, pawing its way down his bare back, electric on his skin, reaching the curve of his buttocks. Oh yes. In went one finger, sliding down his crack from above, and Luke's sulking was forgotten. He leant onto the arm of the sofa, still noshing Mason, and lifted his big behind to let Harry start fingering him, tensing up at the tight, urgent feel of that strong digit between his cheeks.
`Fuck,' growled Mason above, clearly watching this in excitement.
In response, Luke reached around and squeezed the young lad's tight arse cheeks, making him moan, and then tried a tickling single finger between them: Mason both tensed up with excitement and clenched his arse defensively against this further experimenting. Luke just relaxed his own more, feeling Harry's knuckles against him, and a second finger pushing for entry. Oh, god...
Get up, Shaw,' barked Harry then, and the big powerful Yorkshireman was reaching down with both arms to embrace and then drag at him – but not to his feet, just into a better bending position, his knees up on the sofa, his forearms clinging over the back of this straining furniture, his arse in the air. But instead of resuming the delicate fingering, Maguire was moving about, and was suddenly in front of him, holding his mighty dick in one hand, and snatching his hair in the other to push him down into blowjob mode. Dan,' Harry called over him, `get your fingers in his cunt...'
Luke felt Dan's less controlled, confident hands on his quivering cheeks, then his notably smaller fingers playing with his hole, slicked with spit. In front of him, he licked greedily at Harry's big dick then his heavy balls, then gasped in surprise as Mason's cock joined it, both of them in front of him now, pushing their slick wet heads against his struggling lips whilst he felt Dan's second finger inserted at his behind. He felt totally overwhelmed with the attention, the raging desires, the sensory overload of it...
More swapping, tagging in and out... Harry's cock left his face, and he sucked only on Mason's trembling member, as once again Maguire was behind him, pushing Dan out of the way to lodge his own meaty fingers in there, really stretching Luke. He wanted to cry out in pleasure/pain but his mouth was full of Greenwood.
Now...' came Harry's voice, Mason... get round here...'
Luke gasped for air and leaned over the sofa, staring into the wall of cheap modern art he'd tried to fill it with, and nervously turned his head over his shoulder to take in the scene: there was Harry, fingers still in him, towering, Dan on his knees noshing him off, and Mason joining them, all lanky and bright-eyed with arousal. Then Harry's fingers were out, leaving his hole tender but looser, and things clicked together a bit in his head. Mason,' grunted Harry, you're gonna fuck him...'
`What? But...'
`Go on, do it!'
`But I've never...'
`Look how much he wants it.'
That was the plan, then... Harry had been too big for a virgin hole, but Mason was... Luke clutched the sofa, still nervous at his second try at this, but seeing some twisted logic in Harry's dominance: was this all to help them out, to make things easier? Or was it all just one big sordid ego trip for Maguire? Fucking hell, Mason's face went from nervous indecision to steely determination in seconds, and Luke braced himself. He felt Mason's sweaty palms hit his lower shoulder blades for support and then the sticky wet feel of the dick between his cheeks: it was nowhere near as thick and powerful as Harry's, yet it still felt monstrously big against his crack. Luke tried his best to relax, listening to the wet slurps of Dan, the encouraging growls of Harry, and the nervy yelped excitement of Greenwood, and... oh, there it was. He felt inch after inch of 18-year-old meat pushing into him, and he couldn't hold in his cry of mixed excitement and physical stress at it. Oh god,' he called out, oh bloody hell...'
`Yeah, that's it, Mase...'
`Fucking hell...' Dan's startled realisation of what was going on beside him.
`Mmmm,' Mason's whimpering pleasure at the tightness of Luke's hole.
Luke blinked away the strange pain of it, trying to stay relaxed, even pushing his butt back a little bit on the hesitant thrusts of the young top. It hurt but it felt good, so strangely satisfying. He propped himself onto his elbows and arched his back a bit, letting out more groans and mumbling curses of eager enjoyment. And then Harry, and Dan now, were back around this side, their cocks waving in his eyeline, and towards his gaping mouth. He lapped first on Dan's and then on Harry's, a dick in him from either end, hands pawing at his hair and shoulder muscles and up and down his back. Fucking hell, his own dick was utterly throbbing with arousal beneath him, untouched by the others now.
And in front of him, big Harry was cuddling at pint-sized Dan in a way that stung Luke with envy, licking his tongue alternately from one of their throbbing pricks to the other, as Harry squeezed and grabbed at the young Welsh-Yorkshire lad, and was clearly reaching behind to finger him now too, making him absolutely squeal with undiluted enjoyment. Luke was distracted from this by Mason picking up the pace, really feeling the teenager start to go for it, and grunt loudly.
Enough,' Maguire cut in possessively, time to swap...'
Luke almost cried out with excitement at this idea, easing himself out of position as he felt Mason withdraw, an even stranger sensation of the cock on its way out. He gasped down breaths and changed posture, falling on his back onto the sofa and lifting his legs up in the air as he'd done on the dirty ground on Christmas Day. He saw Dan drift nervously, excitedly by him to Mason, and Harry almost pounce onto the sofa, making it squeak and strain beneath them. Luke looked wildly from the sweaty sheen of Harry's chest, to Dan bending over on the other sofa, and a wild-eyed Mason taking up position behind him. He hoped young Dan was ready!
But his concerns left the other two immediately when he felt Harry's rod between his cheeks again, but so much less frightening now – yeah, it still felt massive, but he was confident in what he could cope with, and he just lifted and parted his legs even more, and reached up to caress the rough muscle of Maguire's abdomen. Fuck me,' he begged in a dirty whisper, staring up at his dominant lover, fuck me baby...'
`Shut up and take it,' snapped Harry, he pushed in.
`OHHHH...'
`Yeah, that's it...'
`OH GOD...'
Harry was a whole different animal to Greenwood, and it was like Christmas Day again, lying in the undergrowth, feeling that big presence at his backside, but now it was really going on, pushing through... oh jesus... Luke grabbed at Harry's waist and chest with slippery fingers, finding and tweaking his nipples, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the mingled agony with the mad, pleasurable sensation of the big meat forcing into him. `FUCK,' he screamed.
He heard randy panting from Mason and similar yelps of agony/ecstasy from Daniel, and the squeaking of both sofas, unused to this frantic exercise. Come to think of it, Luke had never shagged a girl on either, and here they were, christened by sweating, pounding male flesh. He looked up lustily to meet Harry's eyes, but saw the big man was looking over to watch the others whilst his hips relentlessly fucked Luke's arse... Shaw followed his eyes to take in the sight of Dan bent over with Mason absolutely pounding him like some sort of wind-up toy. It was a hot sight, but apparently even hotter, or more distracting, to Harry, who now slowly pulled his girth out from Luke's quivering hole.
`Swaps,' Maguire barked greedily, and Luke's heart sunk: this was meant to be THEIR fuck, he wanted HIS big dick in him, but...
Cock swinging, Harry moved his way between the sofas and almost threw Mason aside to get to Dan James, grasping at the perky buttocks and pressing his dickhead to them aggressively. Luke caught Mason's eyes, excited and restless, and was too horny to resist: he kept his legs up and held under his thighs to support them, and nodded greedily as Mason returned to him, climbing down and pushing his cock to Luke's now hungry hole. Luke shut his eyes to ignore the sight of Maguire fucking James, and just concentrated on the feel of Greenwood entering him. He grabbed at the gangly teen, pulling him close and gasping as the fucking rhythm commenced. He tried for a kiss on the lips, but Mason resisted, and settled for kissing passionately at his jaw and neck, hoping to leave a lovebite in his furious snogging.
This was probably what pushed the 18-year-old over the edge: he rested his brow on Luke's shoulder, made a few sharp, sporadic last thrusts, and cried out his orgasm, as Luke felt the wet new sensation of being cummed in. He wrapped his arms about the lanky lad's convulsing body and groaned his approval, but could not resist letting his eyes slide over to see Dan pulled up into standing, Harry's arms wrapped about his torso, standing fucking him with such strength.
Consumed with jealous desire, Luke grasped at and tugged on his own rock hard dick, feeling Mason withdraw and lean over him, dripping sweat, and then pull away from him, leaving him sprawled on the sofa, arse aching, wanking furiously, watching Dan get pulverised. And then Harry was tugging Dan off while he pounded him, and both men's faces lit up in the primal release of their orgasms, and Luke came too, watching. He panted and gasped and felt his spunk unload up his softly defined abs and onto his smooth pecs. The room was spinning.
He saw Dan fall weakly away from Harry, making a hysterical laughing noise of pleasure, falling onto the comfort of the sweat-stained sofa, clearly exhausted by it. Harry, his muscles rising and falling, swaggered away to the bathroom, from where Mason had just returned. All the wild excitement and desire was gone from the teen's face now he had cummed.
Luke sat up a little bit, about to reach for the lad's cock, but Greenwood flinched and pulled away. `You okay, buddy?' he asked softly.
This was too much,' Mason snapped, stepping past him, reaching down to grab at his clothes off the floor. Way too much.'
`Buddy, you just fucked me,' Luke pointed out, unsure how this would help, but feeling weirdly accused even though he was the one who had just taken a really big step. He clambered off the sofa to try and calm or console the panicking teen, but Mason was tugging on boxers and jeans and pulling away from him. Luke looked from him to naked Dan, curled up contentedly as if falling asleep in post-orgasmic bliss. For a moment, he also looked at the cum stains on his sofas, and on the wall at one point, and wondered how easy to clean this mess would be.
Harry was returning from the bathroom, tall, naked, glowing, just as Mason pulled on his shirt and snatched up his jacket and ran off before he was finished dressing, clearly wracked with regret or shame at what had done and enjoyed. Harry just laughed and stepped aside a bit, sharing a surprised look with Luke, before approaching him. A gentle snore from Dan on the couch, bless his tender arse.
`Lukey,' drawled Harry in that lazy, smug voice of a satisfied dominant male.
No,' Shaw said warningly, looking away. Harry reached for him with warm, tender hands, but he pulled away from them. No,' he repeated, his anger rising.
What is it?' Maguire moaned. Give me a cuddle...'
Get off,' snapped Luke, batting his hands away and retreating, grabbing his boxers from where they had fallen on the carpet, and dragging them on up his sweat-streaked legs and over his still semi, cum-slicked cock. Get the fuck away from me.' Harry stared at him in oblivious confusion. `You're messing with me,' Luke said in a harsh whisper.
That was fucking fun,' Harry insisted, but the statement slowly became a question as it left his mouth. You looked like you really...'
I wanted you,' Luke mouthed at him. I want YOU. Not... them.'
`But...'
Just get out, fuck off back to your wife,' Luke railed at him. I wanted you to fuck me, and there you were, too distracted by Dan, and...'
Harry's lost confusion seemed to turn to anger of its own, and he struggled for words back. He turned away, and started picking at his clothes from where they had been tossed. Luke stood trembling in his black boxer briefs, trying to articulate all his rushing emotions. You're just using me, you selfish prick,' he hissed again, but without much conviction. We didn't need these two here, we could have just...'
An armful of clothes clutched to him, Harry stepped up to him sharply and jabbed a finger into his upper chest, just below the throat. What the fuck are you talking about?' he demanded loudly. What do you think this is?'
Luke blinked back tears of frustration, regretting his outburst, but unable to break out of the argument they were in. Then go back to your wife,' he repeated angrily. Go fuck her instead, if she's enough. Fuck off, go on, just FUCK OFF.' His eyes were full of tears now: he was tired, his body ached, his arse REALLY ached, and his head was all over the place. Date night, orgy night, whatever night.
Harry backed off, and gave him one last withering look, seeming offended or regretful or disappointed, and then was gone into the corridor. Luke heard the brief rustle of clothing, a few angry sighs, and then the wrench of the door – consumed with regret, he hurried after Harry, needing to see or touch him, but then the door to the flat was slamming shut, and big Harry was gone. Luke walked to the door and leant on it, trying to gather his wits for a moment. What the fuck had he done that for? Why had he overreacted? He'd got what he wanted – Harry's big cock, inside him – and he was kicking off like some mad girlfriend...
He drifted back into the lounge, and was reminded by the soft snoring that shattered Dan was still there, curled up naked on the other couch. Luke sighed, fetched a blanket, draped it over the contented Welsh lad, and picked up an abandoned IPA can off the floor to take a long, thoughtful drink from. An interesting night, and full of pleasure: so why did he now feel so fucking heartbroken?