Rory and Sebastian

--Rory and Sebastian are in their final year of high school and above the age of 18--

There's a line in one of Rory's favorite books when one of the characters looks back on the happiest time of his life and says that, in his memory, that time is always summer. I don't know why that line stuck with me, because I personally wasn't a big fan of the book, but "always summer" remained in my head for years to come. That is how I remember the time between just after Valentine's Day and the end of our summer exams. Even though it definitely was not always summer and the weather in February was actually pretty shit that year, to be perfectly honest. But the point is, I guess, that for Rory and I, it was the summer.

"Baby, what happened to your head?" I asked. It was the first thing I noticed when I saw him walking into school one Wednesday morning: a big, angry bruise in the middle of his forehead. "Did you fall?"

"Are you serious?" he asked, witheringly.

"What?"

"It's my ash for Ash Wednesday," he laughed. "You get anointed with ash to mark the start of Lent. 'Sack-cloth and ashes.'"

"Don't look so smug, dick face. How the hell was I supposed to know that?"

"Hmm.. that's true. You are a big, fat, heretic."

"If I called you that, you'd shoot me," I rebutted.

"If you called me a heretic, you'd deserve it," he teased. Deliberately misunderstanding which adjective I'd been referring to.

I laughed and flung my arm around his shoulder.

"So what did you give up?"

"Sex."

I tripped slightly. Not quite like the inner-ear-problems-level-of-imbalance of Bella Swann or Anastasia Steele, but still, there was a definite jolt. I stared at him in mute horror. If he'd actually decided to give sex up for the month-plus of Lent, I was fucked. (And I use that word ironically, obviously.) I didn't really like the odds of trying to pit myself against God in Rory's affections and see who came out on top.

"Are you shitting me?" I asked.

"Look. I know you don't necessarily understand the whole Catholic thing. But it's Lent, Sebastian. It's the season of penitence; we're supposed to give things up for the forty days. To prove ourselves. Perhaps I'm being silly and taking it too far..."

"You think?!"

"... but I haven't done Lent properly in a while and I feel that I really, really should. Besides, it's only for forty days and I hope that if you love me, you'll support me in this. Please?"

"Rory... I mean, I ... are you really, actually, genuinely serious about this?"

"No, of course I'm not serious," he scoffed. "I gave up chocolate. But your face! See you after class."

As he sailed into his homeroom giggling to himself, there were times were I thought I might one day have to kill him.

That afternoon, when we were upstairs chilling in my bedroom, Rory and I began making out. Everybody was out -- with Jenny at after-school clubs and Mom and Dad still at work. I started to give Rory some of my best work; the stuff I knew really turned him on. I moved over to lie on top of him, pressing down on him with my weight and letting him feel how excited I was getting through my school trousers. I trailed slightly-hard, possessive kisses down his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt, whilst gently stroking his crotch with my fingers. When his shirt was open, I twisted his nipples and then began unbuckling his belt. I could feel how hard he was and his back kept arching up off the bed in frustrated desire. I unzipped his fly; slowly and sensually tugged his underwear down and watched as that beautiful dick of his leapt free. I hovered my face over it and Rory put his hands on my head, tugging on my hair slightly.

"Alright, zip up," I said, sitting up between his legs and give him a light smack on the side of his ass.

His head rose from the pillow and I've never in my entire life seen anyone so confused or surprised. "Did you hear the car?"

"Nope," I answered. "This is payback for your little Lenten sex joke earlier, baby."

"Pardon!"

I smirked and lowered myself down over him, pressing my nose against his: "Like for like, fucker. You tease me; I tease you." I kissed him on the lips. "Zip up."

I hopped off the bed and he propped himself up on the bed -- shirt open, pants down by his knees and boner slightly deflating. "Are you actually going to leave me here, semi-naked, and like THIS?!"

I bounced a little on my feet and slapped my hands together. I was very, very pleased with my prank.

"Yup!"

"Do you know what this is going to do to my mental health?" he gasped. "Maybe I'll just start making myself sick again? It'd be your fault."

I pointed at him, half-seriously. "Hey! It is still way too soon for that to be funny, Ror-Ror."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. I loved playing with him, because he always played back. But there was no way he could win this round. I had definitely beaten him and I was feeling very cocky about it. From the losers' gallery in the bed, Rory stared at me, with a keen and calculating look his eyes. They were sparkling with plotting his next move. Then, I saw the flash as he figured out what to do.

He slipped out of his shirt and shuffled out of his trousers and boxers entirely. He began slowly jerking his dick back to full erectness. I was determined not to give in, but then he began talking.

"Please, Sebastian."

"Fuck off, Rory. You're not winning this one."

"That's fine. Maybe I'll just lie here and finish on my own, since you won't help me? And I'll think about that time on new year's eve and the time in the forest and the time you face-fucked me when you came back from the stables. Do you remember that?" He kept jerking and his back was arching again, just the way I liked. "I'll think about how full you make me feel and how great it is when you start kissing my neck and how we don't get as often as you'd like to have sex, because we have to wait for a nighttime hook-up in your car or when our parents are out. And we have this perfect opportunity and you're wasting it."

I was developing a boner so stiff it hurt and I began aggressively undoing my tie.

"Rory, look at me. If I come over there, you better give me your word that you're going to let me fuck you. Got it?"

He nodded. "I'll give you my word."

"Then I'll give you my dick," I promised, cockily. I unbuttoned my shirt, tossed it off into the corner and stripped my bottom-half naked.

"You're a beautiful man," Rory breathed.

"You're a fucking slut and I love it," I whispered. I lay on top of him and as soon as we kissed, the fireworks exploded between us.

He pushed me over onto my back and straddled me. He reached to my bedside cabinet, pulled the lube out from the top drawer (beneath the socks, where I'd hidden it.) And then he slathered my cock in a generous dose of it.

"I love your dick so much, Sebastian."

I ran my hands up and down his back as he lowered himself onto my penis. "Fuck -- I love you, Rory. That's it. Squeeze your ass muscles for me. Just like I like. Fuck! Yes. Rory. I ... fuck. C'mon, baby, move like that. Yeah -- you feel full like you wanted? Christ, you're tight. And hot and ... fuck! Rory, stop squeezing like that or I'm going to cum."

I spat on my hand and began jerking him, as he rode on top of me like a professional porn star. He was doing some of his best work and, in about two minutes, he sprayed across my chest -- letting out a strong, sharp gasp as he did. I lasted about forty-five more seconds, before holding him down to my balls and thrusting up, lifting my ass cheeks off the bed and emptying a fuck-load of spunk into his tight, hot, wet hole.

In the aftermath, the room wreaked of sex -- a weird fetid smell that I'd hated when it had reminded me of Joshua, but kind of kinkily liked when it was with Rory.

I was still inside him and he was panting on top of me, but through the exhaustion and the sweat, I could still see that fucking smirk spread across his face as he shimmied on down to kiss me on the lips.

"I win, frat star."

An hour later, we were sharing ice cream and my kid sister was bouncing around the house with some of her school friends. I leant against the kitchen doorframe, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. Rory, obviously, had re-dressed in his uniform.

"I stared seeing someone," he announced, casually, after taking a dainty slurp of strawberry ice cream.

"What?"

"A therapist. Not another guy, idiot."

I nodded, taking the information in. Best not to spook him; after all, this is what I'd wanted, even if he had done it without telling me.

"When?"

"A few weeks ago. It's helping."

I nodded again and took a spoonful of ice cream. I didn't know what to say.

"I know you wanted to be included in everything to do with ... this. And I know how much it hurt you when I excluded you before," he continued; not looking at me. "But, I had good reasons for not telling you when I made the appointment and I'm telling you now. Please don't be angry with me. It was the right decision."

I set my ice cream bowl down on the table and walked over to him. "Baby, I'm not angry at you. It's helping?"

"Yes. I feel ... better. Every time I go."

"That's amazing," I said, gently. Trying to get him to see that I wasn't angry.

"The reason I didn't tell you was because I've spent my whole life with this and it's taken over my whole teenage existence. That probably sounds ridiculously melodramatic. In any case, I realized that it was starting to take over us, as well. One way or the other, it's the only thing we've ever really, seriously, fought over. It's the cause of the only times I've ever hurt you and it's been the cause of the awkwardness between us after Surrey. I know that you'd do anything to help me and there will be times I'll need you. Probably for the rest of my life, Sebastian. There's no-one I love and trust more than you, but I don't want to let this ... thing ... take over us, as well. I like having time with you when I'm not thinking about it. When I feel confident. And attractive, even. Which I've never in my life felt before, but you make me feel it all the time. I like us, without "it." And it helps to go to the doctor and to get it out, without you. And then to come back and just be happy with you. And I can't promise that it will always be like this, because there may be still be times when I freak out or when I need you to hold me, but for now, although I wanted you to know about the doctor, because I know you wanted me to go and I know you want to know all the important stuff, what I really want is for us to just be us. And to be happy. Because that's how I think of us: as happy."

I leant down and kissed him. I have him multiple kisses on his lips and I held his head. And when we stopped kissing, I pressed my nose against his and smiled. And that was all we said about it again, for a long, long time.

The extent to which I was totally and completely in love with this guy still amazes me. And that is the greatest happiness of my life, by far.

One night when I had been more or less fucked off my face on alcohol, I had told Rory that I wanted to try out sex with me receiving, rather than him. I'd made sure to remind me of this when I was sober the next day, so that he knew I'd been serious. Rory wasn't my first anything -- except love, which, let's face it, is by far the most important first. He was also my last and, I'm pretty sure, only, actually. But, whatever, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Right before I'd started sleeping with Joshua Peterly, I'd had a very brief fling with a guy called Will, who was in the same year as us at Saint Thomas á Becket's and played on their rugby team. I liked Will, I guess, but we had nothing much in common apart from rugby and sex. We'd fucked four or five times, after rugby socials, and it'd been great. I'd taken it up the ass from him and quite liked it.

After that, I'd started fooling around with a kid called Michael Suzette, a good-looking indie kid in our year who had been in the closet at the time. The first time we slept together, I'd figured it was best to receive again and it was okay. But Michael was never very good in bed when giving it - when receiving though, he turned out to be an awesome lay. Although he was beautiful, his dick wasn't very big and I got bored of the whole closeted thing. I called it off and I never told anyone about us -- even when he came out later that year -- and I'd moved on from Michael, pretty much simultaneously, to the epic disaster that was my involvement with Joshua Peterly.

Now, I wanted Rory to have what Will and Michael had done. Plus, I liked it when he got all butch and ruffled and sexy. When the polished little prince fell away. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted to give that to him, even though, weirdly, he didn't seem totally keen on the idea. I knew instinctively that part of his reluctance stemmed from nerves and that he was worried that if he was "on top," he'd be the one in charge -- i.e. I wouldn't be guiding him and that if the sex was bad, it would therefore be his "fault."

I finally called him out on it in the car one night and announced, brutally and casually, that I wanted fucked up the ass by him that weekend and that I'd masturbated about it the night before. Sometimes subtlety just doesn't get you the results you need, folks.

However, Rory's first time being on top was not a total success. Firstly, even I wasn't sure whether to be on my knees or on my back, which resulted in a weird, awkward half-wobble when I got on the bed. Secondly, it took Rory quite a long time to get hard and I had to get down and blow him to help out. It wasn't that the sex was bad; we both ended up cumming, but it wasn't great. It just wasn't fun, really, and I was annoyed at myself for not making it as good as our sex usually was. Rory, true to form, was quiet afterwards; clearly pissed at himself. It'd also hurt quite a bit, because it had been a while since I'd been with anyone in that way and Rory's dick was quite a bit bigger, and thicker, than Michael Suzette's. All in all, it was a failure and so the next day I rode the fuck out of him, with his legs around me as he bounced up and down on my dick. We didn't try role reversal again for a long, long time.

Since we lived only a couple of hours drive from London, sometimes my brother Evan would come back home for the weekend. Which was awesome since I think, apart from Rory, Evan is my best friend. Since his house party at new year's, Evan had gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend, Sarah, who he'd slept with that night and who he'd also dated for most of the last two years of high school. The two of them had broken-up shortly after going to college, but since new year's they'd been pretty much in constant contact and they'd both realized how much they missed each other. I'd definitely noticed the difference in Evan since he'd gotten back together with Sarah; he was much, much happier and more at ease with himself. It was great to see.

On one of the weekends when he was back from uni, Sarah came back from her college in Manchester, which is quite a bit further away from where we lived in Kent, and we made plans to go out for dinner together -- both couples -- on the Friday night. We'd made plans to go to this nice Italian place, near to where we lived, and the reservation was for eight o'clock.

I really liked the idea when Sarah had suggested it to me over Facebook one night. I thought for a minute that Rory might be a little bit nervous about; I don't know why. Maybe because it was related to food? But I'd forgotten that if there was one thing Rory could do without a moment's hesitation, it was to socialize. From the moment he met someone, he had an indefinable and inimitable ability to charm them and to put them at their ease. I'd experienced it myself the first time I'd noticed him; that day overlooking the school rugby pitches. When the wind had caught his tie and he'd looked at me properly for the first time in his life. That wonderful day.

On the evening of the date, Evan wandered into my room, which was next to his, topless and tousle-haired. Evan looked a lot like me, I guess, except for the fact that his hair was a kind of sandy brown, where mine was blond, and he has our dad's nose. I was wearing nothing but my briefs and was only out of the shower by about five minutes.

"Seb, do you have a shirt I can borrow? All of mine are wrinkled and I didn't bring any back with me from college."

"Sure," I said, dismissively. "Help yourself."

Evan burped and opened my closet.

"Tonight'll be good," I said to his back, as I pulled on a pair of jeans.

"Yeah, definitely," he said, not turning round. "It'll be nice to spend some proper time with Rory. Get to know him a bit more. I'm going to take this one."

As he pulled on my shirt, I spoke seriously to him, "Listen, Evan, do me a favor and don't make any jokes to Rory about hearing us having sex? He'd shoot himself on the spot."

"Dude, do you think I'm a fucking idiot? Of course I won't say anything like that. Like you'd turn round to Sarah and be like, 'Oh, you sound different when my brother's dick isn't inside you'?"

I laughed and jokingly grabbed my crotch. "They can't get enough of that Carson lovin', can they?"

"It's because we're such amazing lovers."

"Obviously. Hereditary sex appeal," I smiled. "How are things going with Sarah?"

"So well, Seb. Not like last time. It's amazing."

I tossed him a can of my deodorant and opened a drawer. I was going to wear a sweater tonight, since we weren't going anywhere too fancy and I didn't want to turn up in a shirt, as if Evan and I had decided to deliberately match.

I picked out a red round neck sweater.

"Dude, can I ask you something?" I said.

"Sure?"

"Don't you ever feel like ... I dunno... you and her fucked up? Don't you get pissed that you wasted so much time being apart for the last two years? They're two years you're never getting back."

"No," he answered, honestly and firmly. "Not at all. I mean, yeah, of course I think it's a pity it all went so wrong. But, the way I see it is that we needed to be apart from each other for a while to really appreciate what we had and how much we needed each other."

"That's awesome. See, sometimes I think that I've been in the same school with Rory and I've known him for nearly five years, but we only got together now. It's fucking annoying to think of all the time I wasted with dickheads like Josh Peterly, when I could have had even longer being with Rory."

"But didn't you tell me that you and Rory barely noticed each other before the start of this year?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, then it wasn't meant to be then. Clearly. When you noticed each other, that was the right time for you. Look how great it's going. There's no guarantee that if you'd gotten together before the time was right that you wouldn't have ruined everything and already broken up by now. There's no point getting upset over could haves, Seb. How many people realistically get together and stay together as teenagers? Almost no one I know. You and Rory got together when you'd become men and that's the best way to be. Plus, by fucking around with people like Josh you can see how much better Rory is for you. If you hadn't had a couple of shitty experiences with assholes like Josh, you mightn't fully get how lucky you and Rory have been to find each other."

"Is that how you felt about girls you got with when you and Sarah weren't together?"

He looked at me and grinned, cheekily. It was a Carson grin. "Well, I didn't get with anyone too nasty or fucked-up. I just got with ... eh, quite a lot... of people."

"Slut," I laughed.

"You get bored of it after a while," Evan explained. "After a year or so in college, fucking around starts to get to you. It's weirdly fucking lonely -- y'know?"

"I know that's the route I'd've gone down if I'd never met Rory," I said. I didn't judge my brother, at all. I fucking love sex and I'd always assumed that college would be my slutty years, but having met Rory, I could see completely what Evan was saying when he said that after a while, all it had done was make him appreciate Sarah more.

Sarah and Rory hit it off right away. Sarah was bright and pretty, with long blonde hair and a killer smile. She was studying French at university and her and Rory chatted away about an obscure French play that I'd never heard of, but made a mental note to ask him about on the way home. It's always good to learn, especially from someone you love.

"So, what universities have you applied to?" she asked.

"Saint Andrew's is my first choice."

"He should've gone for Oxford or Cambridge," I interjected. And I was right. He should have.

"Saint Andrew's is my first choice," he continued, smiling at me. "Then Trinity in Dublin, Durham and my back-up is Southampton."

"And what do you want to do?"

"History with Theology," he answered, taking a sip of diet lemonade. "History with Politics, if I go to Trinity."

"Fab," she said, enthusiastically. "And what about you, Seb? Evan said it's London?"

"Yeah," I said, forking a piece of pasta. "UCL is my first choice, then Herriot Watt in Edinburgh, Manchester and Cardiff."

"Well, it'll be very handy for you two if you get into Herriot Watt," Sarah said, tossing her hair over her shoulders. "Much easier to stay together that way."

I saw Evan look at her, with a kind of indulgent "shut up" expression. I, however, was not feeling amused. I liked Sarah; I really did. But there was no fucking need to imply that a train schedule and geographical proximity were the only two reasons why Rory and I would be able to stay together once we went to college.

"We'll be fine, either way," I declared. Trying not to sound too rude, but still coming across as firm. I put my hand on Rory's leg under the table. "Won't we?"

"Yes," he answered. "Obviously, Herriot Watt would be a lot easier, though. Although I know you'll get what you need to get into UCL. Do you like Manchester?"

"As a city?" Sarah asked.

I zoned out of the conversation and glowered slightly. This was not the first time that I'd picked up on something non-committal in the way Rory answered questions about our future. He seemed more comfortable discussing marriage than he did staying together at college. Which was just fucking bizarre. I mean, yes, him and Sarah were technically right -- having to travel a half hour from Edinburgh to Saint Andrew's would be a hell of a lot easier than a 12 hour train ride from London. But was there really a need to point that out on a casual double date? What the fuck did she know about our relationship? Plus, I was kind of pissed at Rory for backing up what Sarah had said, when I'd just corrected her. I hunched a bit more over my plate, before feeling a gentle nudge on my knee from Evan's leg. He was telling me to stop being a fucking baby. I sat up straight and smiled ruefully at him.

"Are you annoyed with me?"

I shook my head as I drove Rory home.

"Well that's convincing."

I exhaled slightly, conceding his point that I wasn't hiding my annoyance very well. "I didn't like what Sarah said about us staying together."

"The Herriot Watt thing?"

"Yes."

He sighed and stroked my leg. "Sebastian, she didn't mean anything by it. She's blatantly right. If we were closer together geographically, of course it'd make our relationship easier."

"She didn't say that, though, Rory. She said that it would make staying together easier. That is not the same thing."

"I think you're maybe reading too much into it."

"To be honest, I'm more upset about the fact that you agreed with her."

"You wanted me to question her factual observation of rudimentary British geography?" he asked, incredulously. "You wanted me to query if Edinburgh was closer to Saint Andrew's than London?"

"Don't be a prick," I snapped. "I wanted you to agree with me when I said we'd have no problem staying together."

"Well, you made it so awkward for her that I wanted to be polite and diffuse the awkwardness. And I did not agree that we'd break-up. Firstly, because that's not what she said and secondly, I don't think that will happen."

"You don't 'think'?"

"Sebastian! My God, what is it with you and this? I obviously can't see into the future and I know a lot of people do break-up when they go to uni."

"And you think we will?"

"No! I'm saying that in casual conversation, it's not unreasonable to concede that it is a legitimate possibility. I'm obviously not saying that I want it to happen or that I think it's going to. I just conversationally agreed with your brother's girlfriend when she pointed out that a relationship is easier when you both live closer to each other, rather than in totally different parts of the kingdom!"

"Her and Evan manage it."

"And hopefully we will, too. Sebastian, don't look at me like that!"

"Hopefully?"

"Yes, hopefully."

I could feel the muscles in my arms twitching. This was upsetting me. "Hopefully... For fuck sakes, Rory. Sometimes, it'd be nice if you just fucking agreed with me that we're great together."

"I always agree with that. And I love you."

"It doesn't feel like it tonight."

"Okay, now you're just being ridiculous."

"I hate when you do this."

He looked at me, irritably. "When I do what, Sebastian?"

"When you start riddling everything about college with qualifiers. Yes, alright, I fucking know that the laws of probability and reality and fucking British fucking geography show that a lot of people break-up in college and that it'd be far easier if we were both studying in Scotland, rather than one of us still being in England. But I don't want to hear about fucking probability, Rory. I want to hear that you love me and that even the fucking thought of us breaking-up, even as an abstract fucking theory, is so upsetting and so fucking awful that you don't even want to think about it. Because that's how I feel and I let you know that every single day. But when college is brought up, you start sounding like a politician. One piece of vague, non-committal bullshit after the other."

He was silent for a minute, gathering his thoughts, like he always did.

"You're right," he sighed. "That is entirely fair and I am very sorry. In my defense, I am coping with the anxiety at the thought of not seeing you every day but trying to calm my hopes down. I am not qualifying anything because I want it to happen. I'm doing it because I just don't know what I would do if it did happen. The thought of not seeing you every day, like we do now, is just so upsetting that it's the thing I'm trying not to focus on. Whatever happens, we'll be apart and I don't like that. So I'm trying to be practical about the whole thing to prepare myself for it, but in the process, I've upset you and made you think I don't care, when I very much do. I already miss you and we haven't even left yet. I love you, Sebastian, and I'm sorry."

I glanced over at him, quickly, before turning my eyes back to the road. I felt a bit emotional and smiled, silently, for a second. I briefly took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed his thigh.

"I love you," he said, softly.

"Love you, too."

A few days later, Rory and I were walking home after school. I was nursing a semi as I perved on his tight ass, but people would be in both of our houses that afternoon and there was nowhere nearby where we could disappear off to mess around, without a major risk of being caught.

"I have a semi," I said, casually.

"How lovely."

"Can we do phone sex when we get home? I can jerk off to it."

"And who says romance fades after a few months?" he said, both sarcastically and affectionately.

"I had the dirtiest wank about you this morning in the shower," I said.

"You have to stop this, Sebastian, unless you want both of us to walk home with erections. Which, frankly, would be rather awkward, don't you think?"

"Do you want to go for a drive later?"

He shrugged. "That could be fun. But I have to finish the Religion homework beforehand -- if that's okay?"

"Of course it is."

A pause.

"We're having sex in your car tonight, aren't we?"

I slapped his ass hard and laughed. "Fuck yeah, baby."

That weekend, the summer sun really came out for the first time. It was a baking hot day and Rory and I went down to a public park near where we lived to chill out. A few people from school were there and I bought Rory a huge bottle of water to keep him cool.

I remember him in perfect detail. He was lying on his side, staring up, from behind his sunglasses. The Sun bathed down on his face and in his shorts and t-shirts, he looked relaxed and happy. Health practically glowed off him and he was already beginning to tan slightly. The light coating of dark hair on his legs and those lovely arms of his. The contented sigh and the soft, enigmatic smile. I remember all of it and how effortlessly contented he seemed on that day. I don't know why it stuck so much in my mind. Or why it still does. There were many other day like that ahead of us, but something in that day stayed in my mind in crystal-clear clarity.

"What?" he asked, lazily. "Are you thinking dirty things?"

"I mean, always a little," I said, lying down so my head was on his stomach, at a right angle. I remembered how he'd been the first time I'd touched him on the stomach, but now he just kept breathing normally. And trailed his hand along my forehead. "You seem so happy today, Rory."

"I am," he said. "I'm with you."

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