A gay story: Seamus Ch. 03 Here’s the next chapter. It’s a bit longer than I would have liked, but there were plot bits I had to get in. I hope that the melodrama isn’t too high…
*
“Fuck Neill, fuck Liam,” ran through my mind as my car sped through town. “I don’t need this shit. I don’t mean anything? Fuck him then.” I was angry and sad at the same time, and it took about fifteen minutes for me to cool down and think logically. Maybe Neill was right, maybe it was just hot sex… No, it couldn’t be. He was messing with my head. I saw his face, his body, felt his hot breath on my skin, tasted him in my mouth; and started to get a little hard (okay, very hard) thinking about him. How I could produce another hard-on, I don’t know. As it was, I ignored my burning, wet cock and focused on the road and the thoughts buzzing in my head. It couldn’t just be hot sex. I’d never felt like that before. Nor had I felt so utterly desolate as I did when he said it didn’t mean anything. I felt like I might die.
At the same time, I felt cheap, angry and stupid for enjoying what had happened (okay, loving what had happened with Neill). I was just like all the other fucks Neill had had, only I wasn’t a girl; that somehow made it worse, like he was indiscriminate about whom he gave favours to. He’d use me then discard me, like he did to girls, and call me names behind my back. “Fuck you!” I yelled at a truckie at the lights; he stared back at me as if I was fucking mental. I thought for a moment he might drive after me like in that movie, but of course, he didn’t. This was real life and real life had real consequences. “Fuck you, Neill,” I swore again, a little less loudly. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”
“…And fuck you, Liam!” I howled. What the hell was that shit about? Did the prick spend his nights wandering the hallways listening to people fucking? What the hell was he going to do now? “Shite. Stupid fucking mother-fucker.” I’d die if he said anything to my friends… that made me realize that in some ways I was just the same as Neill, hiding my true emotions from everyone around me, even Jill. Even from Neill. Why couldn’t I say something? I loved him and hated him, and I was just so fucking angry and sad at once.
*
I took the highway out, turned sharp left and drove into a coastal area where Neill surfed regularly. I sat in my car for what seemed like ages, staring out at the black sea. The tide was turning. I saw the white tongues of waves flash in the darkness as they receded from the rocky sands. The few lights along the road glowed purple in the darkness, casting an eerie, stark light upon houses, footpath, the rock fence and the sea below. I had been shocked at the time about what Liam had said, but now I was starting to think that it didn’t matter. Not because I believed I was gay and didn’t care what other people said – I cared a lot; friendships, my relationship with Dad, even perhaps my selection for teams seemed to hang in the balance. I was terrified about what friends like Jill, Greg and Harry would think. I was even more terrified about what Dad would think. And I was worried that I was reading far too much into one sexual encounter with my best-friend… I was also afraid that I would lose his friendship, lose Neill, if I told him how I really felt. Yet, I came to the conclusion that whatever Liam said, no-one was going to believe him anyway. A) because he really didn’t have any friends to tell, and B) because everyone thought that he was a crazy son-of-a-bitch. No-one would believe him. I didn’t realize the things he could do to make my life hell. Nor did I wonder why Liam was so concerned about me and Neill in the first place.
What went round and round in my mind most of all was Neill. How good it felt when our bodies touched and how easy it had been for me to be with him. My mind never stopped me by saying, ‘ugh, this is a turn-off’. I had no inhibitions at all; it felt good and natural. I even knew what to do when we fucked… how the hell did that work? I loved sucking his cock, tonguing and fucking his arse, and every time I thought about it, I got hard again. My mind said he’d humiliated me, but I didn’t feel like that at all, just horny as hell.
It had hurt me so much when I had seen that Neill was in pain because of my cock inside him. I couldn’t bear to see that look on his face. It made me feel like my insides were shriveling up. And when he said, ‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ I honestly felt like I would die. It was the same feeling I had gotten the night before when I thought I’d lost him forever for turning him down.
What was Neill’s fucking problem? I mean, Neill obviously enjoyed it. He had initiated the relationship in the first place, whereas I was too scared to do anything except fantasize. He gave me a blowjob first, and had no qualms about putting his fingers in my bum or swallowing my cum. He asked me to fuck his arse before I did. He didn’t lie back and expect me to do everything to him. When we finally fucked, he was the one who came onto me and started it off. Neill knew what he wanted and how to get it. Yet, Neill was the one who seemed to back down at the end, saying it was hot, but casual, sex. That we really didn’t mean much more to each other than one-night-stands do. What was up with that?
I was scared about what people would think. I didn’t know what Neill was scared of, he didn’t talk of that sort of stuff. It would have helped me understand him a lot more if he had.
Of course, I knew all sorts of things about Neill, he was my best mate after all. Stupid stuff like how he got a long scar on his arm (roller-blading into a corrugated iron fence), what his favorite color was (cobalt blue), why he loved old-style clothes (because they were sort of classy, reminiscent of by-gone eras (You don’t see many tweed pants these days). Neill loved old movies, as well. They were generally vintage horror/thrillers, but also the occasional pre-condom, hairy, no fake tits, poor-lighting, real looking, dodgy porno (which, I’ve just realized, we jerked off to together, cocks out, and did not find weird, before we hooked up). I have no idea where he sourced these movies from, but somebody thought they were worth releasing on DVD.
Neill’s Dad was a corporate something (in some big company), and his Mum was a paralegal. His Mum didn’t need to work, but she had got sick of being at home. There was a bit of a conflict of interest between Neill and his father, since Neill didn’t want to be like his Dad. Neill’s Dad consequently refused to give Neill any help at all with paying for his study, accommodation, anything. So Neill was always picking up jobs he hated, just to get by (like the inputting at the accounting firm, his permanent part-time job; he also had had jobs cleaning butcheries, hotel rooms, bartending…). Neill had gone into zoology because he was interested in ‘Sociobiology’ – roughly meaning animal behavior. As a minor, Neill took psychology (Jill’s subject) as he was interested in the link between human and animal behavior. It wasn’t a choice just to piss his Dad off. It did, though, which Neill saw as an added bonus.
How Neill’s parents behaved really hurt him, although he tried to hide it. He sent his mid-term results home (all above 86%, far better than my 55%-77%), and got a typed letter back, corporate letterhead and all, asking why he had lost the other marks. How cold and fucked up is that? Neill destroyed a piece of Hall property in response.
I know Neill feels like he’s never good enough, so perhaps he did not want his Dad to see being with me as another failure… Or maybe Neill was just as heartless as his father and it didn’t mean anything to him who he fucked just as long as he got off. That’s how he treated everybody else (I don’t remember him ever having a girlfriend, just a series of girls), so why was I any different?
If I told Neill how I felt, he’d brush it off. Or he’d get angry at me and I’d never see him again. I couldn’t let that happen. Maybe it was best to do nothing and just experience what we had while it lasted. I was such a stupid, fucking wimp, but I couldn’t bear to lose Neill.
I got out of the car at about 3 am and ran up to the point and back. I was really pushing myself hard, and managed to do it in thirty-six minutes, when it normally takes me about forty-eight minutes. Running is good, it seems to take away all the physical tension caused by anger, desire or sadness. Every piece of energy in your body is focused on hitting that piece of pavement, following through and hitting it again, arms helping to propel you forwards. Sometimes you can over do it, as I did that night. I collapsed in the driver’s door, and sat there awhile, dripping hot sweat that stuck me to the old vinyl bench seat. I counted my pulse, as I had before the run, then again every one-and-a-half minutes, to see how quickly it fell to resting state. As I did so, I saw my cell phone flashing on the passenger seat and forgot about the fingers on my neck. The light meant messages.
‘Six new voicemail messages’ flashed on the screen, as I opened the phone out. I let them play. The first was Dad. He had called at 9 pm the night before. ‘Hi Seamus, it’s me, Dad,’ (he always did that, like he thought I couldn’t recognize his voice), ‘Guess what? I managed to get the money together and book my flights. I’ll be here for a week, around the time of the finals. And don’t you dare say that your team won’t be in the finals, because I know damn well it will be. I need to sort out somewhere to stay, so if you could let me know about a good, cheap hotel, it would be good. I’m really looking forward to seeing you. What’s it been? More than a year, anyway. You’ll have to come home for Christmas this year…’ (His breathing became heavy, like he was sad.) ‘Anyway, it’ll be good to catch up. Tell your girlfriend I won’t eat her. It’s Jill, right? Okay well, ring me. Bye.’
We live on the other side of the country. It’s a pretty impossible drive, and air-flights are dear because of all the transfers. I knew that Dad had been saving forever to come and see me. I was glad he was coming. It was far more than a year since I’d seen him, more like two. I wondered whether he had changed much. Last time I’d seen him he was having trouble with his knees… and pretending he wasn’t. Years of pushing himself in the navy as a youth, followed by marathon running and extensive gym training had taken their toll (Yes, I get a lot of how I am from him). He’s currently a personal trainer, but before that had been assistant coach to a second division rugby team, which was big time. I don’t know what happened to make him leave. If he gets sick of a job, sometimes he’ll just chuck it in and find something different to do.
I don’t think he’s dated anyone since Mum died when I two. He was away on some naval thing at the time, and I don’t think he can forgive himself that he wasn’t there. No-one could have stopped it, anyway. It was a blood-clot, sort of a ticking time bomb inside her. Since then, he’s moved job to job, house to house. Like me, he goes out and runs himself into the ground, playing merry hell on his joints and body. I don’t think he’s ever really dealt with a problem, just tried to run on and forget it. Don’t get me wrong, he’s no coward. Other men might have gone to pieces over Mum’s death and having to raise a two-year-old alone. He didn’t. He’s always been good to me.
Since I was a kid, he’s always ‘known’ that I am going to be an international rugby player, or that’s our plan. I think it’s a good plan. He’s not one of those pushy Dads you see roaring at school games, he’s never pushed me like that. He did ensure that I enrolled at the most prestigious university in the country, something to ‘fall back on when times are tough’. He was damn sure I wasn’t going into any armed force; probably his own experiences made him say that. He has his rules, as all parents do, but he is a good guy. Still, I didn’t how he’d react to Neill, if me and Neill were a serious relationship (if Neill decided we were a serious relationship (My anger had died down a little and I was slightly lucid)). I’d never heard Dad say anything particularly homophobic, but it’s different when it’s your kid. And it’s hard when you’ve grown up in such a male-influenced way, the naval and locker-room culture, where guys just don’t talk about stuff at all.
‘Next new message,’ from 2.56 am (I must’ve had the volume on the ringer turned off, else I would have heard these calls). ‘Neill’ was on the screen. “Dude, where are you?”
The message after that was about 2 minutes later. “Seamus… Fuck, just pick up! You’ve freaked out again… Don’t fucking freak out, man… Damn it, please, can we talk?”
3.12 am, “Damn it, Seamus, answer your fucking phone!”
3.20 am, “Seamus… Stop freaking out and come back! Oh, come on, Seamus, you shithead…”
3.26 am, a deep breath… “Look, I feel real dumb, man… I can see that your running gear’s gone and nothing else… I’m not trying to act like some psycho, ok? But God, you must be bloody shagged, you can’t do this to your body… You do need to sleep… I’m sorry, okay? Just come back. And don’t be freaked out by what we did, we can, like, not talk about it again, if you want. Never say anything, ever, about it. We can go on like we were before, yeah?… Okay, well, bye.”
I picked up the phone and rang Neill back. “Nah man, I’m fine. I just- Well, you know I go out all hours if I can’t sleep. It’s nothing to do with you- Yes, I’m sure that’d help tire me out,” I laughed at his suggestion. “Okay sure, riiiiggght. Okay, I’m on the way the back. I’m up the coast, should be about twenty minutes. Yeah, nothing’s wrong…”
‘Nothing’s wrong’, I thought. ‘Everything’s bloody wrong, that’s the fucking problem with me. I always fuck things up. I make things complicated when they shouldn’t be… Shit, Shit, Shit.’ I wheeled my car into reverse and hit the road fast.
*
Neil jumped me before I had even shut the door. He’d managed to put some boxers on, but that was it. Just the sight of his face, let alone the rest of him, brought back memories of the hours before. (I didn’t think I’d ever forget the look on his face when he had cum: the way his eyes suddenly opened all the way out, his lips a tongue-width apart, utter bliss on his face.) I could smell the pungent scents of sweat, sex and cum in the air and on his hot skin. The way he was rubbing himself on me was beginning to get me hard. I pushed him away; I wanted to talk to him first… I mean, if it was such a casual, mean-nothing relationship, why was he so desperate that I come home from my run?
When I pushed Neill away, I saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Look, man…” he began. “Look, it doesn’t matter- I’ll move out, and… well, you don’t even have to talk to me again if you don’t want to…”
“Is that what you want?” I asked. I was so messed up that I didn’t know what I wanted. I dragged Neill close again, our chests near touching. His biceps tightened under my hands. Electricity crackled through my hot palms. His hands slapped against my sweaty t-shirt and then sneaked down to the hem, fingers like twin spiders, dappling my skin. I quickly released him, my heart thundering as I heard his breathing become rapid. I reached for his face. My fingertips flowed down and along his sweaty jaw, which was prickly with a new day’s growth of blonde hairs. I felt him swallow as I leaned in, close, so that our mouths were only inches apart. Our hot breaths mingled in the air between us. My lips grew warm and moist. I licked them. A shiver rushed over me. I was scared. I shook Neill away.
“What the- Ay?” Neill said, blue eyes shifting from my lips to my eyes. “No. I- I-”
“Did it mean-” I don’t know why but the words I really wanted to say stuck in my throat. I was such a coward that I couldn’t even ask or tell him what sex with him really meant. I went and stood by his desk, like an idiot. I turned my head back to him. Neill was standing there, tanned, golden hair glowing, a boner stretching his near-see-through boxers to breaking strain. He had this ‘What the fuck?’ look on his face.
“Did you like it..?” I asked, then let the question hang between us. I tried to smile.
Neill smirked. “What, you think I didn’t..? It was the most fucking amazing-” He sat heavily on his bed. He must’ve heard my groan and taken it the wrong way. “Are you okay, mate?”
I sank onto the bed beside him. Even if I couldn’t say that I loved him, that I was scared and that I wanted the relationship to continue, I could at least ride a bloody good wave while I had it. I ignored his last question. “I thought so, too,” I whispered. My hand fell easily to his bare knee. As I looked down at what I was stroking, I could see Neill’s hard-on straining hard against the elastic waistband of his shorts.
Neill gave an exploratory kiss to my cheek, as if scared that I would tell him to stop. I ran an absent-minded hand through his hair. I was too busy staring at his navy-blue slinky-knit boxers, admiring an inch-round circle of moisture where his cock-tip would be. My mouth watered in anticipation. “I didn’t think that you could get hard this many times in one day,” I whispered.
He laughed. “Neither did I.” He sort of sniffed the air around me, poking his nose into the side of my hot, damp shirt then coming away for air. “Man, you fucking stink, you know that?”
Even thoughts about Liam had left my mind (I did think that’d sort itself out, though.) “Yeah, I know,” I said. “I’m going to go have a shower… We’re cool though, right?”
Neill’s next question surprised me. I hadn’t even thought of it. “Can I come?”
I panicked. “What if someone hears us?” What about Liam? I hadn’t seen him when I came in…
“Oh come off it, only loons like you up at this hour. Besides, the walls are as concrete as ours-”
I interrupted. “Hell yeah.”
*
There was one shitty shower on our floor with a toilet, and three separate toilets. The water pressure was not brilliant, Lord knows why since the upper floors had great body-pounding showers. Most of us preferred this shower to the others, although sometimes we sneaked up to the newly refurbished third and fourth floors of the wing with a towel and some gear.
There were two reasons why our floor’s shower was popular with our floor. First of all, it was close. Secondly, it was a darn-sight better than the dodgy communal showers on the second floor. You only went to those showers if you were desperate to get cleaned up, or you wanted a no-strings fuck. The RAs never tried to sort out what went on in there. Supposedly, there was a male communal and a female communal, but in reality, anybody went anywhere they wanted. I’d been up there a few times, but usually came back feeling a bit creeped-out and dirty if I saw other guys fuck girls while I was fucking. Somehow, it seemed different to porn, because in porn you really only hear the chick…
My mind had completely changed about everything, now that I was with Neill again. Something about him managed to draw away all the negative thoughts and overanalyses that had plagued my mind. Maybe I stopped thinking with my head. Now my heart was racing, my skin was hot and shivering. The hand that brushed his forearm as we walked was sticky with sweat. I wasn’t frightened anymore; I thought I understood him and that he wanted this as much as me. I’d do anything for him.
Neill wore a towel over his boxers. His dick had even managed to tent the heavy yellow fabric. I was itching to rip the towel off him, grab his hot meat and suck him ’til he screamed, but I waited until he shut and locked the door. I don’t know who moved first, but suddenly I was being rammed against the partial wall that separated the open shower from a grotty loo. My hands were stroking roughly through Neill’s hair, my head writhing to either side as if trying to escape his lips. His wet lips smeared across my mouth. I couldn’t help moving my head, though I wished I could stay still. My body was blossoming heat, and my muscles were contracting in crazy ways. I bucked against him, trying to feel his entire body pressed to mine. I wanted him naked. Damn it, I wanted both of us naked. That towel had to go for a start.
I frantically scratched around his back trying to find the end to unravel his towel. Neill started to laugh against my mouth. His rocking hips shook against mine, the lump of his hard-on providing friction to my straining cock. The naughty clammy hands that had found their way under my shirt dug into my back muscles. As he pressed against me, they got squashed against the wall. We spun over to the other wall, slamming Neill against it, bodies ramming against each other, every part touching, so hot and sweaty. I kissed him hard, probing his hot mouth with my tongue. He giggled and bit me.
“Ouch, shit, man,” I swore, though it really didn’t hurt. Bloody towel. I abandoned trying to find the end of it (How thick do you have to be to not be able to find the end of a towel?) “What’s up with the laughing?”
Neill gave me a big, tonguey kiss before replying. I loved the way his soft lips manipulated my skin, sending shockwaves to my hard cock. “Ticklish,” he smirked. He pushed away from me. “Come on, man, you gotta get some of your gear off before I take anything else off.”
“Are you going to help me?” I whispered, then licked my lips.
“Nah, I’m sure a big boy like you can manage,” he said, nonchalantly. “You can start with the shoes… You’re so fucking hot, you know that?”
His last words would have scared the shit out of me one day ago, but now they only made me hornier. I couldn’t believe that my best mate- Well, it was weird. He found me just as hot as I found him. I wrenched at the laces of my sneakers, discarded them and my soaked socks. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I told him, smiling back. I noticed that he was stroking the patch of towel concealing his cock. “Do you want a hand with that?”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later, bitch,” Neill said. He frowned a little in response to my worried look. “Did you find that creepy..? I don’t think I’ll say that again.” He laughed, but his laughter didn’t show in his eyes. His skin seemed quite white all of a sudden, although it could have been the fluorescent lighting. Suddenly, he grabbed me aggressively, fingers grasping handfuls of my shirt. “Course I’ll give you a hand.”
He stripped me of my shirt very quickly (though it did get stuck over my head for a bit), and proceeded to run his fingers down my chest, following with his hot tongue. My smell clearly didn’t bother him as terribly as he said, since he managed to lick the salt and sweat from my skin. His fervent tongue traced a whisper over my chest, around my pecs, my armpits, orbiting each chiselled muscle on my abdomen. I was on fire. My skin burnt and tingled, shivering as the little muscles that would normally erect hairs contracted in a wave beneath his scorching, wet tongue. He reached my waist band and stroked his fingers over the skin above it, but did not try to remove my shorts. When I tried to, he flicked my hands away. “Just you wait,” Neill said, savagely, and smirked at me. His blue eyes lit up, his cheeks glowed with happiness. He flicked his pink tongue-tip over his lips then ground them against his teeth.
Neill nibbled his way back up my chest, fingers reaching before him like a climber on a wall. I couldn’t help but cry out “Shit, man- That feels so good- Oh, man- Shit- Fuck- Neill- Arrgh-” and gurgle noises that made no sense. His teeth felt great, just pinching, drawing my skin into his mouth and getting it warm and wet. He prodded and poked me with his hot tongue then licked on. He seemed to avoid any power points that would usually turn me on, like the skin above my cock, my bellybutton and nipples. Still, I hardly wanted anything else. It just felt so fucking amazing. Finally, we were eye-to-eye (Neill’s only a few inches shorter than me).
I tried to kiss Neill, but he tilted his head away. “Just wait,” he whispered in my ear, then sucked the earlobe. He thumbed my nipples causing them to stiffen and burn. Jolts of pleasure shot over my skin in a wave of heat. I wondered why no-one had done this to me before; do girls just not know this stuff, even though we do it to them? My cock burned and swelled, stretching my shorts and briefs even more. He started to pinch the tips with his nails, plucking them outwards until they hardened, then rubbing them gently. More heat, mingled with slight pain. His lips suckled my neck. My moans were muffled by his hair. My pelvis trembled and I tried to rub my burning bulge against his. He pushed me away.
“Now the shorts,” Neill whispered. I felt his fingers slip inside my waistband, tugging the elastic downwards, and causing my cock to be pressed down as well. He left the waistband pushing down my cock, so it tried to stick out on a horizontal angle. The pressure caused by both the band and the stretched fabric of briefs and shorts was excruciating; not exactly painful, but the sort of force that made me feel like I was just about to cum, but somehow couldn’t burst over the edge. My hands reached down to release my aching cock, but he batted them away. “Leave it,” he snapped. “Just wait.” I growled in frustration.
He passed his hand lightly over the fabric encasing my cock, giving only enough pressure for me to know that the fabric was moving. It wasn’t nearly enough. I lost control. I couldn’t help it. My hands ripped at his towel, fingers roughly gripping his hard package through his slippery, soaked boxers. I pulled Neill to me, loving the hot trembling flesh in my fist. We kissed hard and fast, sweaty muscles slipping against each other, creating a heat that seemed only destined for our cocks. Neill’s fingers reached inside my shorts and pressed against the fabric of my briefs. I was shuddering like crazy, head tilted away from his hot mouth, moaning to him to fuck me.
Neill dropped to his knees, dragging my shorts down to my ankles. He let me kick them off whilst he sucked the tensed inside of my thighs. He moved up to my briefs, which were transparent with precum and nearly ripping from the stress my hard cock was placing on them. His hot breath felt comparatively cold to my sizzling groin. He flicked his sweat-sticky fingers down the backs of my legs, working on muscle knots as well as any physio. His face was right against my briefs, but all he did was blow on me. I prickled and shook some more. My hands guided his face further forwards.
I gasped as he licked the steamy fabric over my cockhead. When I tried to take the briefs off, Neill swatted my hands away. He continued to lick and suck the soaked fabric and the bulges beneath, drawing precum out of the fabric and breathing it into his mouth. “Shit-” I gasped. “Shite- Please- Neill, God- Fuck me-” I had to lean against the wall again; there was no way my knees would support me.
Neill’s feverish fingers scraped down my wet briefs, and flung them to the side, so that they slapped the wall. Those few seconds gave me a little relief. Not for long, though. He gripped my shaft, directing me to his hot mouth. He licked and nibbled all the way around bulging red head, drinking in the strings of precum that would otherwise run over his fingers. I looked down, and he did something really dirty. Withdrawing my cock from just inside his lips, along with a thread of clear saliva, he rubbed the sensitive head first across his lips, then over each cheek.
His face was- Well, it was his face-! My best friend was rubbing my cock all over his face, getting all shiny with spit and precum. I couldn’t believe it. My eyes must’ve been on stalks. The rest of my body was shaking like it had electricity running over the skin. All my trembling hands could do was hold onto his sweaty blonde head. His breathing seemed all fucked up like mine. After a few seconds he groaned, “Do you like this… or is it freaking you out?”
Neill’s hand tightened fractionally around my cock, but it felt like I was getting squeezed. I moaned a little, liking the extra pressure. “Hell… yeah,” was all I could get out.
He laughed. “Cool, we’re on the same wavelength.” He nuzzled my cock a little harder, smearing me over his lips to get wet, then grazing me across his skin. I now have in memory the image of my best mate with my cock mashed into his face with precum dribbling down his cheeks (something that I’ll never stop dreaming about).. I could feel the prickle of his stubble, the padding of flesh on his cheeks, the slightly greasy, sweaty texture of his skin brush against my hypersensitive tip. My body was exploding with heat. Every muscle in my body was tensing in preparation to blow cum all over that hot face of his. I tried to hold back, but couldn’t keep it up much longer.
“Please-” I moaned. “I don’t want to cum yet- Please- Neill, shit-”
It hurt, trying to hold off orgasm; it made me even more aroused, on edge, under tough pressure. I survived a gentle lick as he released me. Then I just slid down the shower wall, gasping and convulsing as my muscles relaxed. It felt like I had cum, but there was no spunk, and my cock was still hard. It was wet with precum and spittle, with a bulging plum coloured head and a burning red shaft. Not as super-sized as the night before, more it’s usual size – quite thick and long by most standards. I had to change position. I stretched my legs in front of me and leant back a little, since I couldn’t bear anything touching my tingling, sore cock.
Neill sank down beside me. He lightly stroked my shoulder as I lolled against him. When he was satisfied that I was breathing normally, he spoke. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“What?” I murmured.
“Thinking your coming and then stopping it,” Neil said. He laughed and shoved me away. “That’s for what you did last night, when you did whatever fucked up thing you did to stop me coming.”
“Ow, man, that hurt,” I replied, in semi-mock pain. “Sorry.”
“Still felt bloody good though, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. Fucking amazing. But you- You are so bloody dirty or kinky or something.”
Neill flopped his face back, head hitting the vinyled shower wall. His brown-blonde hair was pushed back off his face, except one strand, which he blew away. “I hope that’s a fucking compliment,” he snorted.
“I think it is,” I said.
We just sat there, naked, erections reaching to the ceiling. If we had clothes on, this would pretty much be our position in our room if we were tired, talking shit or drinking. I couldn’t think of anything to say or do; I felt smashed.
Neill suddenly said, “Anyone ever complain you cum too soon?”
“I do not!” I snapped.
He laughed. “Yeah, you do.”
“You didn’t complain last night- and at least I warned you that I was on the edge.”
“You just changed the subject,” Neill said.
“I did not!” I saw that he was about to laugh, probably because my protests all sounded the same. “Geez, if you were under the same fucking pressure, you would too.” I grabbed his hair, forcing his lips to mine. Of course, Neill didn’t object. His fingers played my shoulders, our hips sort of turned over each other. I flinched as our cocks brushed. Then I pushed him away. “Just you wait,” I whispered and smiled evilly.
“Oh come on, Seamus!” Neill protested as I got up. I don’t know what he thought I was doing, but I certainly did. I turned the shower on. Of course, it was cold, as all showers are until they heat up. In fact, because they use artesian water in the Hall, it was bloody fucking freezing. “Oh, fuck! Seamus, you shit!” Neill swore, as he was drenched. His hair, now looking brown, was all forward across his face. I nearly pissed myself with laughter. He got up, nearly slipped, and dragged me under the water with him.
“Shite,” I moaned. Even though the water-pressure sucked, there was still enough water to saturate me. Neill shoved me under the shower-rose. Stupidly, I was swearing at the time, and my eyes were open. It was so cold, like bottled water from the fridge. I struggled to get out of the stream. My hands and body slid easily over Neill’s, every part feeling oiled. I forced him over against the wall, so that the spray was only on our feet. “That was fucking mean,” I gasped.
Neill flicked water in my face from the tips of his fingers. “And who started it?”
I decided not to reply. I didn’t have a come-back to that. Luckily, the water seemed to be heating up; steam was rising, making the lights look hazy. I looked down. We were both still rock hard. If anything, that cold splash would slow us down a little, which might be a good thing. We moved under the stream again.
Neill wrapped his arms behind my back, enveloping me in a hot, slick hug. There was no friction at all between our bodies. I loved how I could feel his muscles tense and release beneath the skin. The way his thorax pushed outwards when he breathed. Even his rapid, pounding heartbeat (although, that could have been mine and I just got confused). It felt as though my skin was much more sensitive to anything that touched it. “Mmmm,” I heard Neill moan. Our cocks touched, slippery and hot, pressed in against our abs. Shockwaves were already shooting through me again.
We clashed against each other, bodies straining hard, lips, tongues, teeth, everything, contacting each other’s flesh. I slammed Neill into the wall and grabbed his veiny cock, stroking as hard as I could. “Uh-” I heard him splutter. “Uh, oh God-” I could hear his breathing hiss in and out in small puffs. “Shit.” His head rocked backwards, eyes to the ceiling, then dropped over my right shoulder. His mouth pulled hard on the little bit of flesh above my shoulder bone. He bit down a little, then harder, still sucking and tonguing the skin in his mouth. It was enough to make me release his shaft, as I fought the waves of pleasure rippling through me.
“That hurt?” Neill asked. He looked a little worried.
I shook my head. “Nah.” I bent my head and sucked his nipple into my mouth. I lightly chewed the hard nub. Neill moaned.
“That hurt?” I asked him.
“God, no,” he whispered.
I smiled through the water streaming down my face. My hands stroked his cock a little more gently, mimicking the way he was treating my meat. I got a bit of a shock when I looked down. He was so long, probably two inches longer than me. What did that make him? 9, even perhaps 10 inches. Fucking freakish porn-star shit.
“Shit,” I whispered. I hadn’t actually thought about his length at all, other than comparing it to mine. I’d swallowed it all right, but how would it go in my arse? Also, the split mushroom of his head looked to be 2 inches across, although he narrowed further down. I kept rubbing his head between my thumb and forefinger, the other hand around his meaty base. He was so wet and hot. I fiddled with his foreskin, stretching it out and pulling it back. My fingertips manipulated the underside of his cock, where there’s this bit where the head joins shaft, that makes my whole body jolt when I play with it.
Neill took me, and I was thicker than that, I realized. Plus the added length of his cock would mean that there was more inside me being touched… Just thinking about it drove me mad.
We were both groaning by then. The water supplied a steady hot stream rippling onto our bodies, bouncing and dripping off onto other parts. The water smoothed our skins, lubricated our bodies. It made me completely hot and wet all over, like it was a sex organ itself. I went back to nibbling Neill’s hairy chest, which took some of my attention away from his cock. But not for long.
Soon I was down on my knees, avoiding his cock and probing his crack with my tongue. He still tasted like musk and cum, a flavor which I drank in the water that ran off his buttocks. From the way he was standing, even though his legs were quite far apart, I couldn’t get my mouth to his shithole. The fingers of my left hand could, though. I allowed my wet fingertips to massage the rim of his tight anus, whilst my tongue retreated to his balls. I nibbled his sack a little. At the same time, I could feel myself growing hotter and harder. My cockhead burnt against my wet abs. I was so caught up in what I was doing that Neill’s groans of, “Shit,” and “Fuck,” and “Oh yeah…” didn’t really sink in. Still, I did feel his hands on my head, pulling my hair and directing my hand and mouth to his dripping, scorching cock.
I expected to be able to take him all at once, as I had before, but that didn’t happen straight away. It took a lot of gagging and coughing. I pulled back after a few attempts and mouthed down each side of his cock, plucking him hard with my lips. The hot water ensured that he was always warm and wet. “Suck my cock, man,” Neill gasped. “Please- Ahhh yeah…” My mouth slurped his head. I sucked a little of him in, then bobbed back, each time taking a further inch. When I was about half way along, he forced my mouth along his extra length as far as I could go. I choked, I thought I couldn’t breathe. He was so thick that I felt like my throat was being closed off by his throbbing cockhead. I tried to spit out, but Neill wouldn’t let me. The air that was coming through my nose wasn’t enough. I was scared that I’d breathe water into my lungs. Why was this so hard, when last night it was easy?
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Neill whispered. He didn’t try to press in any further, but didn’t let me move back either. “Just keep swallowing. It’ll be fine.”
Hot, dilute spit had pooled in my mouth and started to dribble over my lips. It was thicker than the shower water and seemed to stick to my skin. I took Neill’s advice and swallowed, clearing some of the fluid from my mouth, but not really moving him. My tongue pressed his shaft hard against the roof of my mouth in rhythmic waves. I sucked in, swallowed some more. His head was completely slippery. I forced my mouth forward and felt him curve over the soft, then hard back of my tight, hot throat. My moans caused his cock to vibrate in my mouth. I can only imagine how good that felt.
I pulled away a little, then pressed my nose back against his slick, sweaty pubes. I’d stopped gagging. I loved his hot, huge cock, and the noises of appreciation he made as he fucked my face, faster and faster. His balls slapped against my chin, his shaft burnt friction against my lips. At the same time, I forced two wet fingers into his tight arsehole, fucking him back in an erratic motion.
We didn’t keep it up long. I didn’t want Neill to cum before he’d fucked my arse. I was sure I’d be missing out on something if he did.
I spat him from my mouth. “You’ve gotta fuck me, man,” I growled. Shit, it felt surreal that we were doing any of this. All those sweaty nights, half awake, just wondering what it would be like, but not thinking that it would ever, ever happen. I guess I didn’t think that I would really be able to do it, that it would really turn me on like this. I thought fucking Neill was just one of those things in your mind that you think, ‘shit, that sounds hot,’ but the actual practice of it would be completely horrible, and definitely not arousing. Goddamn it, I was wrong. Now that I knew what it was like to fuck him, there was no way anything he did to me could turn me off.
Neill’s reply was a feral sounding grunt. He wrenched me from me knees and rammed me against the wall under the shower-rose, thrusting at me with his hips, so our hard-ons clashed in shots of heat. All I could do was moan into his mouth, no even able to kiss him back.
“Just wait a sec,” Neill told me. He left me heaving for air whilst he stepped out of the shower. I slumped against the cold corner. My slick hair dripped water into my eyes. The sight of his hot body was slightly obscured as I blinked the water away. Still, what I saw was just as arousing as the first time I saw him naked after a shower, months back. His hair, dark with water, reached just to the knobbly joint where the neck joins the shoulders. The locks beaded, sending small rivulets of water to join those already flowing down the furrow of his back. His shoulder and upper-back muscles flexed powerfully beneath his tanned skin, smoothing into the longer, streamlined muscles of his back. His butt was muscular, and sort of rounded, pale in comparison to his tan. It dimpled and stretched as he walked. As he leant over to pull something from the handful of clothing he had brought, I saw his balls bob between his legs. His cheeks parted, exposing his tiny pink hole to my eyes. I still couldn’t believe that my fat cock had fitted in there. I made me worry a little about what he had in store for me.
Neill was carrying a clear bottle with some sort of yellowish liquid in it. “What’s that?” I asked, as he joined me in the steam.
“Oh, you remember that shit Jill won?” he laughed.
“Which shit?” I asked. (Jill seems to have a knack for winning things, probably because she enters every sweepstake she can.)
He waved the bottle in my face, ‘Rose’s Massage Oil’. “That kit she got with all those face creams and make-up shit for men.”
I laughed. It was a bit of a standing joke. “Would that be Radio Live’s Metrosexual giveaway?”
Neill nodded. “She palmed a lot of it off onto Greg, but some of it ended up in our room… Want to use it up?”
“Right,” I said, with a smirk.
“Should work just like lube,” Neill said. “And guess what?”
“It’s ‘rose-scented’,” I read from the back label. We both laughed as he opened the bottle and squirted some on my chest. “Mmmm, so flowery,” I said, with a sniff. I couldn’t help but take the piss, ‘cos there’s no way either of us would normally use anything that smelt like roses (that’s how ‘straight’ we were; always scared of what other people would think, I guess.) It didn’t smell half-bad, and the oily texture felt great on my skin. I got some on my hands and rubbed him up, paying special attention to his red bulging cock and hairy ball sac.
Neill massaged my chest, my prick, between my legs, so that the water now skimmed over me rather than sticking. He turned me around and did my back as well. His fingers were bloody magic, not too light, nor hard enough to be painful, just enough to penetrate each muscle and give it a good workout. He ironed out knots I didn’t even know I had. At the same time, I felt his fat cockhead pressing into the curve of my lower back. As great as the massage felt, all my frantic mind could think about was having that burning shaft push through my virgin hole. “Oh, man,” I moaned. “Fuck me- Please, just fuck me-”
“All in good time.” Neill kissed the base of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. This was nothing compared to the jolts I felt as his oily palms pressed into my buttocks, swirling up my back and then down again so that his fingertips flicked over the sensitive place between my balls and arsehole. He allowed one hand to linger between my legs, lightly brushing the smooth skin of my balls. The other hand reached for the oil. He drizzled more of the cold liquid down my lower back so that it dripped into my crease.
“Urgh,” I groaned. One of his fingers had slipped between my cheeks, guiding the oil down to my arsehole. He used one hand to hold my buttocks apart while he squirted more oil directly over my tight hole. The intense flow on my sensitive pucker caused me to flinch and gasp. I heard the clonk of the bottle dropping to the shower floor. My body jerked as Neill’s fingertip pressed into me. The tip of my prick slid against the cold shower-wall.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. His finger continued to thrust into my hot, tight hole. I really wasn’t concerned about it, he’d already fingered me before, with incredible results. It was just that everything he touched had me rippling with pleasure, and I couldn’t control the movement my body made in response. I pushed back slightly, forcing his second knuckle past my sphincter.
“Oh God,” I murmured. “Fuck my virgin arse… Please fuck me hard…”
Neill countered the catch in his breath by stabbing another finger into me, circling the two inside my hole. I writhed and moaned like some slutty girl. His other hand pulled my hips back quite a bit, so that I was supporting myself more on my arms than my legs and my hips and back were angled. I was worried ‘cos I couldn’t rub my cock against the wall anymore. As if reading my mind, Neill laughed. “The only way you’re getting off is by my rod fucking your arse.”
I could easily have pushed back into the shower-side, but I didn’t want to. I wanted this cum to be just from Neill’s long cock splitting my virgin channel. “Get on with it then, man,” I moaned. “Fuck my arse.” I didn’t realize that as I spoke, he had already lined his fat head up, ready to burst into me as soon as his fingers retreated.
Suddenly I felt this huge, hot thing, stretching my tiny anus. Jolts of pain shot through me. My body tensed, face creased, lips bitten so I would not scream. Neill thrust further into me and my agony increased. A whine crept from my throat. My skin seemed to prickle with pinpoints of pain. “Relax mate,” I heard him whisper. ‘Easy for you to say,’ I thought. I felt sorry for all the girls I had ever given anal. How the fuck could he have enjoyed this torture?
Neill’s fingertips brushed across my chest, one hand rubbing a mixture of oil and hot water into my nibbles, the other stroking my cock. I moaned as pleasure mingled with the pain. I must have relaxed a little, since I experienced a sudden stab of pain as his thick knob slid past my tight entrance. Suddenly, it felt a bit better. My sphincter was still stretched wide around his ridged shaft, but not as wide as it had been before.
He was gasping in my ear, as if feeling the same pain as I was. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Push down a bit, ease yourself open…”
I rolled my head to the right, so that I could almost see his face behind me in the corner of my eye. The change of position caused the water that had been hitting my head to hit my collarbones, gushing on to my prickly nipples, and down to my engorged cock. The shock caused me to jump, forcing his cock further inside me. My whole body throbbed with the pain of my stretched anal muscles. “What do you mean?” I groaned, as my cock tingled in delight, like it enjoyed the pain.
“It feels like you’re all jammed up… Push like you’re taking a shit-”
“Argh!” I pushed down as he eased himself further into me. His pole felt slippery and hot, but my arse still resisted the invasion. My abs tensed as I fought to expand my channel. Neill was right, it did ease the pressure; I suppose he had figured that out when I couldn’t get inside of him.
He pulled back and pushed in again, going a little deeper this time. My hole pulsed with heat. “How much of you is in there?” I grunted.
“Less than half,” Neill said.
“What?” My surprise gave him a chance to force a few more inches inside me. He thrust in and out to loosen me a little more. His hand continued to play my cock, shooting waves of pleasure through my body, until I was shaking back against his chest, pulling myself up almost straight then moving down again. Slowly, I began to realize that most of the pain had passed. I could feel his hot, thick knob and shaft moving easily in my burning rectum. “How much now?” I moaned.
Neill’s chest hair rubbed against my back as he bent forwards to tongue my ear. “Nearly there,” he whispered. His pace increased. My pelvis started to move against his, thrusting down as he pressed up, forcing more of him into me. The friction of his throbbing cock rubbing against every sensitive place in my tight hole made me moan. My own cock, neglected now that Neill’s hands had moved to my hips, burned against my abdomen. I didn’t need his touch there anymore; the pressure of his scorching cock inside was enough to keep me unbelievably aroused.
“Harder,” I grunted. “Fuck me harder. Split my arse- Uh- Ugh- Uh-” I felt electricity shoot through my veins. My heart skipped several beats. I guessed that this angle was right for massaging my prostate. This was nothing like the pleasant sensation I got from a fingering during a blowjob. My whole body was trembling. I think I saw flashes of color. It felt incredible.
My best mate was fucking my arse and I loved it. I loved him.
Every movement caused my stretched ring to burn, but this was soothed almost immediately by the hot water dripping down my back. I pushed my butt down to split myself further open as Neill’s huge pole thrust back and forth inside me. I felt his balls slapping mine as he upped the tempo. He speared deep inside me, causing my abdomen to vibrate and twinge with pain. He pulled out almost completely before returning to that point, the pain receding as his fat cockhead massaged my velvety insides into tremors of pleasure. My expanding cock wept down my abs and onto my tight balls. I babbled out a stream gasped words that made no sense. “Fuck me- Shite- Harder- Oh, God, Neill- You’re so good- Fuck me- Fuck me open- Neill- Neill- Yeah- That’s good, man- Poke me with your long cock- Harder- Argh- Shit- Fuck me-”
I heard similar words spitting from Neill’s lips. “Oh, man, you’re so tight- You’re so fucking tight- I’m going to loosen you up- Gonna fuck that virgin hole- Gonna shoot cum up you- You did to me- Dirty boy- You love this don’t you?- So hot- Go faster- Fuck, Seamus- Tight arse- My cock’s splitting you open- Seamus- Oh God, Seamus-” He moaned on and on as his pole rammed into me. We were going faster and faster. The friction scorched through my bowels, burning through to my drooling shaft. My butt muscles bounced off his thighs, feeling the prickle of his hairs and the flexion of his muscles. The movement caused my rectum to clench and release around Neill’s slippery pole, increasing the erratic catch in his breathing.
“Uh- Uh-” Neill grunted. He slowed our thrusting right down, rotating his hips so that his cock ground against every surface in my tight hole. I countered by squeezing myself closed, and tilting my hips to crush his cock with my pubic bones. “Urgh,” Neill moaned. “Shit man- I’m gonna-”
“Gonna what?” I gasped. I released my muscles and started to move fast against him, fucking myself on his cock. His hands flinched and trembled on the thick, sweaty muscles above my hips.
“Gonna-”
“Gonna what, man?” I could tell by the way his cock seemed to expand and vibrate in my arse that he was close to the edge. “You gonna cum before me?”
“Seamus, you shit,” he grumbled. Neill’s wet hand grabbed my shaft and started to jack me hard. The assault on both my hole and my cock had me hot and quivering all over. Violent shockwaves shot through me. I convulsed in pleasure. My skin prickled with cold despite the hot water pounding off my back.
Neill pushed into me and held his whole length within. He began to jerk in my sizzling, snug hole. “Admit it-” I groaned. “You’re- Argh!” His cock blew a load of semen inside me. The intensity of the explosion forced cum deep into my tight bowels, far further than his embedded cocktip. “Oh- Shit-” It was so hot, shooting through me. Neill pulled back a little, his cock still blasting and quaking. I felt cum press down around his shaft, lubricating to reduce the friction of his movement.
“Oh, man- Oh, fuck-” Neill gasped again and again. His fingers slipped around my shaft, squeezing hard and releasing me with each wave of his orgasm. I couldn’t help but cry out, I was so close.
“Neill,” I moaned. He had started to ream me again, spreading warm cum all along my burning channel. My knees were beginning to bend. I could hardly take the trembling fire that was shooting through my groin.
His arm slotted beneath my outstretched arms, elbow locking him to my chest. He forced me to stand upright, causing my rectum to tighten around him. His long rod completely filled me at this sharp angle. I moaned as I felt his hard nipples and damp chest hair prickle against my back. The shower water shot hot needles at my tensed face. Neill walked me back, balls swinging against mine, so that the water was aimed at my trembling cock. “Holy shit, Neill,” I gasped as both of his hands began to play my length.
I thrashed, forcing his prick to move inside me, contacting every sensitive nerve inside my tight hole. Hot and cold shot over my body. I rolled my head back and growled. His hot mouth and tongue stroked my sensitive neck. “Cum for me,” Neill whispered.
“Uh-” I moaned.
His fingers massaged my meat harder. “Cum for me, Seamus,” Neill said, again.
I couldn’t stop myself anymore. The heat of the water caused my sensitive cockhead to throb. His hands pushed me further, seemingly drawing cum out of me. And the cock in my arse, added incredible, pleasant pressure. “Argh- Uh- Ugh-” I gasped. My body jolted as semen pulsed out of my cock. “Argh- God, Neill…” I moaned, as more and more hot, thick juice blasted onto my chest, quickly washed away by the shower’s streaming water. He continued to rub me, using watery cum as a lubricant. He slowly humped his prick in and out of my spasming fuckhole, causing further hot cum to spurt through his fingers.
As I continued to moan, Neill slowed down his hands and pelvis, until finally he stopped altogether. He wrapped his arms around my chest and slumped his head over my left shoulder. “Okay,” he murmured. “You win.”
“Win what?” I asked. Both of our cocks had begun to soften. I could feel less pressure and heat in my rectum now. I was sort of sad and glad at the same time. Sad, because now that I’d felt him fuck me, I wanted to do it all the time. Glad, because there was no way I would have the energy to do it again and get through a whole day, including rugby practice that night.
Neill laughed. “I was trying to wind you up… You don’t cum too soon, mate.” He kissed my cheek and started to pull from me.
His cockhead was still wider than his shaft, and took a little more pressure to remove. When it did slither from my burning arsehole, I heard a satisfying sloppy ‘pop’ noise. “Mmmm…” I said as I turned off the water. I kicked the bottle of oil off the silver hole in the floor so that the water could flow away. “We’ll have to thank Jill.”
Neill was toweling himself off. He stopped when I spoke. “For what?”
I picked the bottle up, flicked the lid shut, and chucked it to him. “The oil,” I said.
Neill gave me a strange look. He started to put on a gray-blue shirt. The cuffs were buttoned, so it took a bit of forcing to get his hands through the sleeves. “We’re not telling Jill,” he told me.
“I hardly think she’d care-” I began, but he cut across me.
“Damn it Seamus, you’re not telling anyone. It’s just you and me,” Neill snapped. “We’re not fucking gay, we’re not fucking telling anyone.”
I turned away. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. The violence of his words shook me to the core. I had clearly read him completely wrong. He hadn’t wanted me to come home because he was worried about me ‘freaking out’. He had wanted me to come back so he could have another fuck. Now I was no use to him. He didn’t care about me. He wasn’t my best mate. I pulled on a pair of trackies and a polo shirt, and was about to leave when Neill grabbed me.
I could have easily broken his grip if I wanted to, but I let him maintain it, just struggling enough to let him know that I didn’t want him touching me. “Seamus, please-” he said. I couldn’t look at him; maybe I’d start crying or bash his face in, I don’t know. “Look at me!” he hissed.
Something about the way he spoke made me look at him. I was kind of shocked by what I saw. He was crying. “It’s one hell-of-a-lot to take in, man,” he whispered. “I didn’t think that- It’s fucking scary, okay?”
I gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. “Is scary,” I said. “I don’t- Well, I don’t really want anyone to know either.”
Neill laughed slightly. “Our dirty little secret then?”
“Okay-”
There was a bang at the door. Damn it, people were always banging on doors around here. A man’s voice, “Would you hurry the fuck up, some of us have places to be.”
“Shit,” I swore. My eyes flicked to Neill’s. There was no way out besides the door. “What the fuck are we gonna do?” I hissed.
“Just fuck off and give me a chance to get dressed,” Neill yelled out. “Go upstairs if you’re so fucking desperate.”
“It’s a ten dollar fine for talking to a senior hall member like that,” the voice said. Liam. Shit. I still think that the fucker must have been following us around.
“Sorry,” Neill replied, a little more quietly. “I’m still getting dressed. Why don’t you go upstairs for a shower?”
Liam’s voice became harsh. “Listen to me, Neill Simmons, either you get out of there right now, or I go and get the master key and unlock the door myself.”
“I’m still getting dressed,” Neill protested. We were both pulling on as much clothing as we could. Despite there being no way of getting out of this situation, we weren’t going to be caught naked. “Gimme a bit more time.”
“Well, just hurry up. I’ve got a gym appointment in half an hour.”
I rolled my eyes at Neill. “Usually people have a shower after they go to the gym.”
“What the fuck are we going to do?” Neill whispered. “He’s not going to go away, is he?”
After less than a minute had passed, Liam banged on the door again. “Are you dressed yet?”
“There’s nothing for it,” I hissed. “We’re going to have to just go and hope like hell no-one else is up.”
Neill pursed his lips. He inhaled then exhaled slowly. “Fuck it then.” I stood back as he unlocked the door and pushed his way past Liam.
Liam was still dressed in the too-big pajamas I had seen him in earlier that morning. He had this cruel, victorious snarl on his face. His dark eyes narrowed as he saw me. “Look at that,” he said. “Two fags in a shower. You better have cleaned it.”
Neill bolted. He didn’t stop to look at me or get his towel or anything. He was halfway down the hallway before I had registered that he’d left me to pick up the shit. “Go to hell,” I told Liam.
I stooped to pick up Neill’s gear. As I did so, Liam whispered, “Like having his arse poked, does he?”
The muscles in my neck tightened. I would have let it drop with a verbal comeback, if he hadn’t repeated himself, starting with, “Didn’t you hear me-” Before I knew what I was doing, Liam’s head had knocked into the opposite wall. I rammed him there, fist around his throat. “You say another fucking word and I’ll kick you into next month,” I barked.
‘He can’t do anything,’ flashed through my mind as I contemplated putting another fist in his stomach. ‘What’s he going to do? No-one’ll believe him… If you do this, you’ll be the one in trouble.’ I took a deep breath and released my grip. I picked up Neill’s stuff and left.
Liam spluttered a little, then called after me, “It’s a twenty dollar fine, per person, for indecent acts in a Common Area. Expect an invoice by tonight.”
*
Neill was going nuts when I got back to the room. He paced up and down, kicking things and repeating, “What the fuck are we going to do? What the fuck are we going to do?”
He pushed me away when I tried to hold him. “Jesus, Seamus, what the fuck are we going to do? He knows…!”
I sat on my bed and took a few breaths. “You should sit down for a minute,” I said. “Just slow down a bit.”
Neill’s mouth arced in a strange curve as he stopped and faced me. The skin beneath and between his eyes was creased with worry. Still watching me, he sank onto the floor in a fetal position, leaning against his bed. His face dropped onto his arms, wet hair flicking forward to cover any exposed skin. “What are we going to do?” he whispered. “He’ll tell everyone… I can’t do this, I can’t.”
I shifted over and sat down beside him. I pulled him in so that his head leant on my knees. My hand stroked his hair. “Who do you think’ll believe him?” I asked. “Everyone knows he’s a psycho. He says that to anyone and they’ll back us up, probably give him a hiding to go with it.”
Neill didn’t reply.
“Come on,” I said. “You really think Harry and Greg, or Nate, or Kev or any of the guys will actually listen to him?” I smiled a little, remembering something Kev had said the day before. “We’ve got half the bloody female population of the hall to back us up. Liam can’t do anything to us. He can’t hurt us.” How ironic that statement seems now…
After that, Neill did calm down. We kissed and talked logically for a bit, then talked shit like we normally did. We ate some muesli bars that my coach had said were good for energy for breakfast. Then we got our stuff together and went out to lectures.
*
I was half an hour early to rugby practice. I usually am, so that I can have a longer warm-up time. After several injuries over the seasons before, my physio had recommended that I do this or face more torn ligaments, tendons and muscles, and some painful surgery. I swiped my access card at the changing rooms and entered. Someone else had dumped stuff on one of the benches, but I hadn’t seen them around the park. It didn’t phase me; often guys leave their gear overnight, since it’s only us that has access to the room, it’s pretty safe.
I pulled on my shin-guards and my long woolen socks, striped in the university colors. I put my box on – most guys don’t bother at practice, but after seeing a guy on Dad’s team lose a testicle, I was not taking any chances. Then my shorts, my practice shirt. I tied my bootlaces and headed out to the field.
As always, I did a slow lap to warm myself up, then returned to the front of the grandstand to start my stretching regime. I was doing a typical calf stretch when something hit me from behind. I didn’t even have time to turn around before the next punch to the small of my back. My attacker was very strong. He dragged me back my shirt and slammed me to the ground, stabbing his boots into my side. I rolled over in time to see a boot hurtling for my face. Lucky for me, I was fast enough to grab the leg and stop it, unbalancing my attacker at the same time.
His face hit the grass. “Fucking fag,” I heard him yell. He swiveled onto his back, kicking out with his feet, the nubs on the bottom of his boots cutting into my face. Blood spilt from my left eyebrow. I forced his legs down and punched him a couple of times in the soft part of his stomach. His hands clawed the front of my shirt, pulling me back down with him. He pushed me into the ground.
Liam kicked me again as he got to his feet. I dragged myself up by the back of his shirt and rammed him into the grandstand wall. He spun and I avoided his punch. My own fist struck his hard cheekbone, then his lip, and he spat blood down his front. I blinked to clear my sticky blood from my left eye. He struck me in the chest – he was too short to get to my face. We grappled and ended up on the ground again.
Somehow he managed to momentarily pin me, face down in the muddy grass. “You like that fag, you like that?” I heard Liam grunt. To be honest, I wasn’t all that scared (I’m a lot bigger than he is), until I felt his hard cock rubbing into my back. At first I thought I must have imagined it, but when he did it again, this time grinding his hips down as well, I really freaked out. I clawed the ground and rolled, forcing him into his back. About thirty seconds later, the coach and half the team arrived to find me towering over Liam, my fists pounding his chest.
A few guys cheered, but mostly they were just trying to pull us apart. Liam was still kicking, punching and spilling blood as Nathan and two other guys towed him away. I guess I was no better. It’s all a blur. What was clear, however, was that the war had started…
*
I couldn’t believe it. Coach had kicked me off the team. Next to my Dad and Neill and Jill, rugby was probably one of the best things I had in my life. My degree program was a sham, everything had always been about building myself up, increasing my skill, so that one day, yeah, I’d be on an international side. It was a big dream, but I was damn sure I could do it. And Liam had taken that away from me. And from my Dad.
Running through my head was how Dad was coming to see me play in the finals. I hadn’t seen him in two years and I knew that he could hardly afford to get all the way here to watch me. Now, that money would be wasted. He would never see how much I had improved. I didn’t want to disappoint him like that, especially over some stupid, fucked up fight. I would never be able to explain to him why the fight had happened. God, I didn’t even know myself.
I felt so dirty and scared about what Liam had done. I just didn’t get it at all. I sat parked up on the side of the road, crying my eyes out, blood and tears all over my shirt. He had a hard-on, what the fuck was up with that? Why had he done that to me? What would he have done if there was no-one else there? I thought how I must’ve baited him, and blamed myself for everything. Why had I let any of this stuff happen?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
*
I couldn’t really put into words how I felt when I got to my room. Jill was there, practically sitting in Neill’s lap, as they went through his textbooks. She was doing thesis work on something to do with the psychology of the way women are treated by society, and was trying to find some sort of biological explanation to add to her work. I think that’s what they were doing anyway. Neill had her hand in her silky hair, she had her face so close that they could have been kissing. They didn’t jump apart like people that have been caught at it, and Jill has always been one of those touchy people, so I didn’t read too much into it. Still, I felt incredibly jealous, like I was the third world and didn’t count for shit, especially after what had just happened to me.
Jill was the first to look up. “Holy Fuck,” she swore. “What happened to you?” She rushed across the room to take my bag of gear, which she dropped on the floor, then guided me to sit on my bed. Her blue eyes flickered with worry under their dark layers of cosmetics. Before I knew it, she had one hand on my chin to tilt my head in the light. The other hand brushed my dark hair off my forehead as she examined my war wounds.
“Got kicked off the team,” I whispered. I made eye contact with Neill. He was very pale all of a sudden. He didn’t have to say anything, he knew who I had fought with.
“Over a fight?” Jill exploded. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” I muttered.
I really had wanted Neill to come with me to the Emergency Department, but it was Jill that did. Neill said he had work to do and didn’t want to come. I only needed a few stitches, I was a big boy, I could handle it. Still, Jill was good. She chattered her way through the two hour wait for assessment, flirted with the student doctor who did the stitches, and held my shaking hand while I screamed with a closed mouth (As I said, I don’t do pain). She really helped lift my spirits, and didn’t push me to elaborate on details that I didn’t want to share, like who I had fought with and why.
*
Later, I lay on my bed and talked to Neill.
“I hope he looks worse than you do,” Neill said.
“I’d be surprised if he can walk straight,” I replied. I told him everything, including the scariest bit, Liam’s erection. At that point, Neill got really angry and started talking about how we were going to make him pay. I wish we’d stopped and actually thought about what we were doing. Things were escalating way out of control. Of course, an act of war is usually accompanied by a retaliation. That retaliation is usually far worse than the original act itself… I can never thank Jill enough for pulling me through the time after the retaliation, when I had lost everything I cared for…