A gay story: Seamus Ch. 07 Author’s notes: I really wasn’t happy with my last chapter. I was in a rush to upload it and I think that shows in how clipped the conversation is, especially with Nate; maybe in time I will post a revised version on the site, but in the meantime I am trying to finish what I’ve got. Secondly, this time round, I’ve needed to insert some plot, so there’s little in the way of sex. If you’re reading this to get off, go for one of the earlier chapters or find something else.
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The next thing I was conscious of was light streaming through the tiny, high windows of our underground room. The golden light of dawn illuminated the white bedsheets and gave our intertwined bodies an ethereal glow. Neill’s warm body weighed on my chest and left arm. My muscles were sore and I could not feel my fingers. Not that I minded terribly. The man I loved was curled up against my body, sleeping contentedly, the tears of the night before long forgotten. A strange feeling flowed through my veins and heated my face. It was satisfaction, wholeness, a feeling of having everything I wanted in my arms.
For the first time in the last two days, Neill looked truly calm. His head nestled into my chest, the skin smooth and free of worry. I could feel his lungs move with every breath. He made such endearing little whining, whistling noises that I probably would have laughed under any other circumstances. His fingers were clasped in handfuls of my grey singlet as if he was scared I would run away.
Gently, I brushed the tangle of blonde locks back so that I could see Neill’s peaceful, closed eyes. I couldn’t help but run my fingertips over the contours of his face, exploring the warm resilience of his cheeks, the soft, thin skin of his eyelids and the prickly half-centimetre growth of golden hair dusting his jaw. He flinched slightly and muttered something like ‘fuck off, Seamie’, then seemed to drift back to sleep. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I let my hand rest on his back and pulled the striped duvet up over us.
Eventually, Neill stirred and smiled at me. “Morning,” he yawned. “I could get used to this…”
“Used to what?” I asked.
“Waking up with my head on your chest, your ugly mug smiling at me,” he whispered with a grin. He braced himself against my chest and drew his head up above mine. His sleep-mussed hair hung like strands of misaligned silk around his face, causing his features to be partially cast in shadow. Not his eyes though, they glinted, large, fresh and blue, brimming with love for me.
I gently ran my fingers down his warm skin and drew Neill in for a kiss. “Is that all I am, a glorified pillow?” I teased as his lips brushed mine with the strange sensation of my stubble stroking his.
“Yes, idiot,” he told me, blue eyes flashing with mirth. “That’s all you are, a fucking pillow I make love to. What do you think?”
“A pillow you make love to? Not a pillow you shag?” I mused. My breath caught as his mouth went to work on my neck, teeth teasing the wet, spittle-warmed flesh. His hands smoothed over my singlet, the wrinkled fabric caressing the sweaty skin beneath. I pulled him closer and felt his morning arousal burn against mine.
“As much as I may have wanted it to be, it’s never just been shagging. You’ve pulled me in too deep for that, Seamus,” Neill joked between kisses, although I’m sure he meant it.
“Me and my magnetic personality, hmm?”
Neill choked, then chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that! You can be a grumpy beggar when you want to be… and you’re so damn obsessed with rugby… and your all-over tan and… you smell like socks.”
“You don’t always smell too hot yourself,” I growled, wrestling him over onto his back so that my body rested over him. I ground my pelvis to his and felt his back arch in response. His firm legs parted and hugged me to him so that my burgeoning erection fitted into the alcove between his thighs. Only the cotton of our boxers separated our aroused bodies. I thrust down again, enjoying the smile spreading across his face and the way his breath seemed to catch in his lungs. “Are those the best insults you could come up with?”
Neill shot back, “Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, seeing as you’re such a pussy,” but his heart wasn’t in it. He was too busy groaning with need as his thighs tightened their grip on my waist and his hips humped against mine. I felt his hands snake their way under the hem of my singlet to lift the fabric over my head. “Why must you insist on wearing so many clothes in bed?”
The singlet became caught and I had to help him remove it. I couldn’t help but laugh as it struck the wall on the opposite side of room. Neill joined me in my laughter. “Someone’s eager,” I teased, repeating his own words of a day ago. I let my lips wander over his face as his hands stroked my back. In an unexpected move, my warm tongue lapped the ticklish hollow beneath his earlobe, a place where I knew touch sent shivers running down his spine.
“Not eager, just…” Neill whispered, softly gripping the thick muscle above my shoulder with his teeth.
He knew me well. Small, tingling explosions of pleasure radiated through my flesh. I moaned into his neck. “Just what?”
My cellphone, placed somewhere beneath something on my side of the room (as in, I had no idea where it was), began to chirrup the annoyingly bright ringtone I had set it to a few days earlier. “Fuck!” It had to be seven or eight in the morning. Nobody with any sense rings at that hour.
“Jesus, what the fuck is that?” Neill growled.
“I’d better answer it,” I said, struggling out of his grip. I walked across the room, my hard cock bobbing through the black cotton-lycra of my tight boxers. “Could be a client.” ‘Worse,’ I thought, ‘it could be that something has gone wrong with Dad.’ I don’t know why I thought that, but when someone rings that early, something must be up.
The phone was buried in the pocket of a pair of trackpants I had been wearing the day before. A local number that I didn’t recognise flashed across the screen. At least that ruled out anything concerning Dad. I flipped it open. “Hello?”
A gruff male voice asked, “Fraser, that you?” (Fraser is my surname).
“Yeah,” I answered. “Who’s this?”
“John Prentice. Sorry to ring so early but we’ve got to sort some stuff out. No doubt you’re already up?” Prentice was my rugby coach. That he was calling me at all was a good sign. Perhaps there was some truth in what Nathan had told me about Coach wanting to keep the Disciplinary Committee out of my fight with Liam.
“Of course, Coach.” I shot a look to Neill, who was intently staring at me from the bed. He smiled and ran a hand through the mass of golden hair standing from the firm muscles of his chest. I felt a rush of heat shoot through my body – need, want, desire.
Prentice had continued to talk while I studied Neill’s body. I hadn’t really been listening. “You there, Seamus?” he barked. That brought me back to earth.
“Yes,” I replied. “Still here.”
“Get your head out of the clouds, boy, and answer the damned question.”
Neill started to pinch at his delightfully hard nipples. I reluctantly turned away as he poked his tongue out at me. “Question?”
“Injuries from the fight, Fraser. What you got?”
“A few bruises, strained muscles, nothing much,” I answered.
“Liam has two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a broken nose,” Coach said, gruffly. “The doctors say he won’t be able to play for a few weeks without risking further damage. The idea of having to find two new players as good as you two, even among our subs, this near the Cup, is a fucking nightmare. So I discussed it with the University and my assistants and you’re gonna be able to play for us again. For the amount of fucking damage you’ve caused to Liam’s person, you should be before Disciplinary, if not before the police. This is a big chance for you, so don’t mess it up. Now I don’t give a flying fuck what you were fighting over but don’t you ever do it again with anyone, because if you do, I will make damn sure that you are not on my team to fuck it up for the rest of them. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Cut the shit, Fraser. Get your arse down to the physio department and make sure everything’s working as well as it should be. I want you to be fit enough to play in the next game, understand? Practise is tomorrow. You will come and apologise to Liam and the rest of the team in a satisfactory manner. If you don’t, you can forget all this, ’cause your sorry arse will be before Disciplinary and off the team. You understand?”
“Perfectly,” I replied. Coach Prentice had a way of putting people on the spot and making them squirm before he crushed them. It was useless to argue with him, better to just listen to what he had to say and not complain. That he was giving me any sort of chance was a wonder in itself. I was angry that Liam was going to get away with everything he had done, but anger would get me nowhere. Not being able to play rugby for a few games was a good punishment for him, though I didn’t doubt that he was going to get his own back somehow. I know I should have said something about Liam’s sexual harassment, because that’s what it was, but Prentice was a gruff, rough, man’s man and there was no way in hell I’d subject myself and my sexuality to any kind of scrutiny by him. I’d heard all too many of his racist, sexist, bigoted jokes to believe he would treat me terribly kindly.
“Good,” Prentice snapped. “I have no time or place for hotheads on my team. You always struck me as a sensible bloke, so use your fucking sensibility and keep that proud nose of yours out of the shit, got it?”
“Of course, coach,” I said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he hung up. I flicked the phone shut and turned to Neill.
“I’m back on the team,” I told him. I explained the conversation, including having to apologise to Liam. “And, Liam’s not going to be able to play for a bit because I broke his ribs.”
Neill took a second or two to reply. The muscles of his face tensed unnaturally as he tried to pull off a smile while his brow was furrowed. “I suppose that’s a good thing,” he said, softly. “I know how much being part of the university team means to you and your ambitions, but what are you going to do if Liam comes after you again? You’re on the team as long as you behave. What if he makes it so you can’t behave? I know you’re not going let him touch you or do any of that shit he was trying to pull last night, but what happens if he does? If you can’t hit him, then what the fuck are you going to do?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’ll just have to stay out of his way. If I make sure I’m never in the position to be alone with him, then I’ll be alright.” I sunk down on the mattress beside him, my feet hanging off to brush the floor.
He watched me with a wary expression on his face, or at least I thought so. “Well, you know what I want to do, however impractical it might be.”
“Beat the shit out of Liam?” I asked. Neill nodded, chuckling slightly. “I’m glad that you’ve decided that it’s not a possibility. You were pretty angry last night.”
“I had every right to be angry! I love you, and to see you getting hurt like that- it’s just disgusting,” Neill snapped. “I just hate to see him getting away with this shit. You aren’t the first person he’s done this to and if someone doesn’t do something about it, you won’t be the last either. I know that we can’t beat him up and I know that you don’t want to report him, I just don’t know what the hell else we can do.”
“Maybe we should just let sleeping dogs lie,” I said. “We can decide what to do when Liam makes his next move.” Neill’s face had a somewhat crestfallen expression. The anger seemed to have faded to a hostile acceptance of the facts. I thought his eyes shone a little more than usual, but it could have been the way the morning light caught them. His right fist was gripping the sheet so tightly that his knuckles were white. I gently brought my own hand down on his and stroked the tension away. “I’m sure everything will be alright.”
Neill smiled. “Of course it will be.” He leant over and kissed my cheek as his hand cupped the back of my head to pull me close. “Everything will be fine.”
We lay back on the bed, kissing ardently. His lips plucked at mine as his tongue darted into the velvety warmth of my mouth. Our saliva laced with the twining of our tongues. Prickly heat shot over my sweaty skin as my heart missed a beat. “I love you,” I whispered. “I think I have loved you since I first saw you.” I remembered sitting nervously on my hard new bed, waiting for my new roommate. Neill had strolled in like he owned the place, a smile that could light a room adorning his face. He extended his warm hand, making some quip about what a shit room we had wound up with. I felt instantly at ease around him. He always seemed able to bring out the best in me. “As I’ve gotten to know you, the love has grown so much. I can’t believe how good you’ve been to me and how happy you make me feel every time I look at you.” The words that I had wanted to say the night before flooded to the surface, yet once again, they didn’t feel strong enough to describe the depth of emotion in my heart.
I had a lot of regret regarding what had happened the night before. I felt like we had had a cheap fuck, when what I had really wanted was to make love. All the shouting and gasping about how big Neill’s cock was and how much I wanted a hard fuck had clouded or distorted my true intent. I lost control with Neill that night, just as I always did. The passion took over and raw energy rushed through me, spilling out of my mouth in a series of easily crude words. I couldn’t stop my body moving harder and faster, thrusting forward to feel every inch of Neill’s body in me, around me, running through my veins and filling the dark recesses of my most intimate parts. I loved him; he became a part of me. I needed him, everywhere at once, so that I knew that he was really with me and it wasn’t just another dream.
Love was there, beating strongly in my heart and pulsing through my veins, but I couldn’t speak my feelings! After all the agony of believing that Neill did not feel the same way, I was the one that could only say the words when he prompted me with his own declaration. I don’t know why that happened, I suppose it is easier to yell out, “Fuck me hard!” than “I love you! I never want to let you go!” Saying “I love you” bares you to the soul and makes you feel vulnerable to hurt from the person who could hurt you the most, the one you love. I realise now how hard it was for Neill to say.
Being caught yelling, “Fill my arse with your big long cock!” by Nathan opened me up to another form of vulnerability, the fear of ridicule. Nate was a very old friend and I did care what he thought, but whatever happened, I loved Neill and others would have to like it or lump it. No skin off my nose either way. I was less worried about Nate’s opinion than I was by the way Neill had taken being caught in the act. His words had been short and terse when we went to bed, yet he’d slipped quickly into sleep, as if there wasn’t really anything on his mind.
My mind was completely distracted when Neill smiled that beautiful smile. “I’m not one for describing my feelings particularly well, but-” I saw his bright blue eyes flicker from their focus on mine for a second as if he was searching for the right words. His warm hand stroked over my morning-furred cheek. “I love you, Seamus. You’re the first person I’ve allowed this close to me. I’ve always felt scared about letting anybody know… how messed up, I am, I suppose. You seem to be able to stop me doing stupid stuff, and I’m not saying you’re a glorified nanny, it’s more that you sort of know what I’m thinking and can talk me down. I don’t normally listen to anyone, except Jill, and she doesn’t know everything. I don’t talk about myself much, you know, emotional stuff, but I do love you. I want you to know that I always will.” He kissed either side of my face, burying the warm swell of his lips in my neck. Hearing those words knocked all the breath from my lungs and sent my heart beating in overdrive.
Gently I stroked my fingers through his hair, causing him to raise his head until it was a breath’s distance from mine. I could taste all his scents, the fruity kick of his shampoo, the stale tang of yesterday’s aftershave, coupled with a masculine, musky sweatiness. His hair framed our faces, the ends brushing against my skin. “Look at me, Neill,” I whispered. Excited, nervous blood pounded through my body. I could hear it drum between my ears, feel it throbbing at my pulse points and in the head of my frantically engorged erection. You require energy and faith to talk from your soul. Protecting your soul are a series of masks; reflections of what people want you to be, what you have to be, what you think you need to be. To allow somebody close enough to see you without those defences takes a lot of strength. I found telling Neill that I loved him to be the most frightening and exhilarating thing that I had ever done. I definitely wanted him to know, but all the same… it was scary.
Neill watched me with a slightly agitated expression on his face. His bottom lip trembled in a terribly inviting manner. I realised then that I could crush him just by saying the wrong thing; it wasn’t just my feelings that were at stake anymore. The sensation of his firm hands on my shoulders lent me strength. We were in this together. I took a deep breath and finished my sentence, “I love you so much, and I’m glad that you feel the same, but I got to tell you some stuff. I’m scared. I don’t want to be judged or abused by the people around me for being myself. But the more I think about that, the more I know that if people are my friends, they aren’t going to reject us. I’m more scared of hurting you than I am of what people think. I don’t want to do something stupid and wreck what we’ve got. I don’t want to imagine what it would be like to not have you near me. I was so scared of telling you that I loved you because I thought-” I floundered. I couldn’t voice the fears that had been kicking my emotions through my mind. I was so glad when Neill took up where I had left off. He was the only person that understood exactly where I was coming from. I just wish he’d been able to share that tiny piece of him that he held back – that scared, bleeding boy who was unjustifiably guilty and didn’t believe he deserved to be loved at all. If only I had known…
Neill whispered, “You thought that I wouldn’t want you as much as you wanted me. You thought I’d reject you and it would ruin our friendship, because to you it was only casual sex. The fact that I said I loved you and you didn’t return my feelings would always be hovering there between us. You would become so uncomfortable around me that you would pack your bags and shift out. If I saw you again, you wouldn’t want to talk to me or even worse, you would, and we’d have one of those awkward, sterile conversations. It would feel so cold and horrible to have to face you when you didn’t feel anything for me. That’s how I felt and it messed with my head like crazy.
“I lied to myself, first that I didn’t have any feelings for you and wasn’t attracted to you. Then I lied to myself that it was just sex and we’d both get past it. It was never just sex. I felt- I feel like my heart’s gonna explode every time I touch you or look at you. It scared the shit out of me for ages. I’ve never felt that way before; if I did, I would probably have had myself checked for a heart condition ages ago. Before you came along, I’d never worried so much about hurting someone. I was a love-em-and-leave-em kind of person. I didn’t want anybody anywhere near me and I certainly didn’t want somebody in my head! It’s uncomfortable enough with Jill trying to second-guess my every move. But you’re different, you’re my friend and I trust you like I can’t trust other people. I love you! I- I’ve never sat watching somebody sleep for five or six hours, so spellbound that I couldn’t even pick up a book and so concerned that I thought just looking at you might make you better,” Neill whispered. The glittering trail of tears on his cheek mirrored my own brimming eyes.
“You did make me better,” I replied. My tongue lapped away the flavoursome tears from his skin. I loved the salty warmth floating on my tonguetip. Neill always tasted good, no matter what part of him I tasted, and swallowing his flavour made me feel somewhat possessive, like I was taking a part of him into myself. “You’ve spent the last two days looking after me. You made sure I ate, you rang the pharmacist and asked about my meds, you put me to bed, kept me company and even watched me sleep! Don’t believe any of that shit I said last night, I owe you big time for what you’ve done for me!”
“Don’t I know it.” Neill’s own tongue came out and met mine halfway, twisting and bonding to each other. We gently teased for a minute before I pulled back a little and started to work my way down his chest, gently tugging on each of his nipples with my mouth, my tongue whirling to cool the hot, tight nubs. Neill moaned and shook. I loved that I could give him such pleasure that he stiffened in my embrace, curling his muscles to prolong the sensation, then finally released his grip and softened so that his body once more fitted to mine, all in the manner of milliseconds. Each time I did it, I felt a corresponding fluctuant heat rush through my body. My heart skipped a beat.
Neill grabbed a handful of my dark hair and held my face to his skin as I worshipped his body. My fingers stroked over him, teasing and tweaking a response until he was writhing against me. His hard cock burnt against my abdomen. I desperately wanted to drag off his warm, crisp, cotton boxer shorts and feel the glowing pleasure beneath against my furry cheek and my soft lips. I had every intention that I would. Just as I started to tug down the wide, firm waistband, his hand stopped me. “Not yet.”
He pushed me onto my back, sitting over my thighs. With a gentle fingertip, he traced around every large purplish bruise that mottled my chest. In places the skin was broken and there were tiny scabs from the spikes of Liam’s rugby boots. I had discovered it the night before when I studied my injuries in the mirror. Still, it wasn’t like it was the first fight I had been in. My stiff muscles were no longer shooting arcs of pain with every movement and their tenseness had relaxed somewhat. “I hate that he’s done this to you,” he whispered. “You know what I should have done yesterday?”
‘Not again,’ I thought. “You can’t beat Liam up, Neill.”
To hide the dark expression that flitted fleetingly across his face, he laughed. A brilliant smile lit every feature of his face. I saw the laughter ripple through his body, each tanned muscle of his torso contracting and releasing. His dark, round nipples glistened with my saliva, achingly hard and ready to be kissed again. I couldn’t help but trace his skin with my fingers, cupping his hips with my hands. “As much as I want to, I didn’t mean that. No, I meant that I should have-”
“Should have what?”
“Kissed my poor baby better,” Neill teased. His head bent, blonde hair falling forward to brush my chest. I felt his lips murmur across my skin, wetting and manipulating my bruises with his light touch. I loved that gut-wrenching, heart-fluttering way he could make me feel, so that even the tiniest sensation was like a bolt of electricity running through my body. His touch is something that I could never get enough of.
I moaned and stiffened, running my fingers through his silky locks. “Just when did I become your poor baby?”
Neill made a small growling sound in the back of his throat, not unlike a suppressed laugh. I felt it vibrate through my skin, joining the pleasurable tingling heat that seemed to flow from every point of contact to my desperately hard cock. He raised his head while his fingers scraped down my boxer shorts. “I don’t know.” Then he grinned. “Actually, I do know. It’s because you’re the girl in this relationship.”
“I’m the-” I exploded. “I am not! You’re the one who collects old clothes and has long hair!”
“I don’t have long hair, it’s not like I’m able to tie it up in a ponytail,” Neill snapped and laughed again. “Sorry, I’ve just been dying to say that. Come on, you shave every hair from the neck down, you must get some flack for that when you hit the showers after rugby!” You might be surprised, but about four or five other guys on the team did the same thing, and apart from a bit of harmless mockery, no-one ever said much about it all. To be honest, if someone had said something, I would be wondering why the hell they were looking in the first place.
I shivered as his hand wrapped around my thick, purple-capped erection. “I thought you liked it.”
“Oh, I do,” Neill whispered. “I just thought I’d point it out. I love how smooth you feel and well, come off it, neither of us are girly. You’re just too easy to wind up.”
“I am not!” I protested.
“Are too,” he said. “Admit it, I know every single button to push to get you all hot and bothered.”
Of course, Neill was right, but where’s the fun in accepting that? In a solemn, mocking voice, I whispered, “You put too much faith in your abilities, Mr. Simmons.”
“I do not, Mr. Fraser,” he returned, with a smile. “I can read you like a book and I can get you protesting like you’re on one of my picket lines with only a few movements of my mouth. Of course, I can also make you moan with pleasure using very similar tactics.” His gentle fingertips rippled over the throbbing hardness encircled within his hand, catching a moan from my throat.
“Can you now?” I asked. “I should like to see that-”
A loud bang on the door interrupted us, followed quickly by a succession of smaller thud, not unlike extremely loud rain. “Anyone home?” A male voice queried.
I started to sit up, but Neill pushed me back down. “Ignore it,” he hissed. “Whoever it is will bugger off if they don’t hear any signs of life.”
“Come on, Seam, Neill,” the voice said. “I know you’re in there. Open up.” He tried the doorknob, but I had learnt my lesson and it was most definitely locked. Realising that, his fists struck the door again. “Seamus, open the fucking door, damn it!”
Seconds later, my cellphone began to ring again. I had left it lying on Neill’s bedside cabinet, so it was within my grasp. ‘Nate,’ flashed across the screen. I showed Neill. “We really should talk to him properly,” I whispered.
“Seamus, I know you’ve moved the phone, I could hear the sound change! Come on, let me in. I really gotta talk to you, I’ve been up all night, you know, thinking. And before you say it, yeah, I don’t do that much! But damn it, I don’t want to talk to you through this door,” Nathan shouted, his fists made a dappling sound against the door as each individual knuckle hit wood. “Let me in!”
“Hold your fucking horses,” Neill snapped. My cellphone suddenly stopped ringing. “Do you know how early it is? Some people are still trying to sleep!” I was glad that Neill seemed able to converse normally with Nathan, albeit through the door. The conversation the night before had been very uncomfortable for all of us, but I think his discomfort was the greatest, as he had sat most of the time with his head in his hands, barely speaking a word. Afterwards, he had cried a little when he thought I was asleep. It was really distressing for me to see. I had pulled him to me, enveloping him in a deep hug as I let emotion take its course.
Neill got up and set about finding some clothing to wear. In the end, he pulled a bathrobe from the wardrobe and wrapped himself up. His erection still managed to tent the thick white flannel. I pulled my boxers back over my hips and dragged on some sweatpants and a long rugby jersey. I couldn’t make my arousal go down and I didn’t really own anything that would cover and disguise it.
“Are you going to let me in or what?” Nate asked, in a much quieter tone.
“Just a fucking minute,” Neill snapped, loudly enough that Nate could hear. I went and sat on my own bed and leant against the wall with my legs up. He walked over the door and unlocked it, a terse expression on his face. “Do you have to make so much noise?”
Nathan stepped inside, giving me an uneasy smile. He didn’t wait to be asked, just naturally sat on the chair I had offered him the night before. “Sorry,” he said. “Just needed to talk.” Admittedly, he looked as though he hadn’t slept. The pigmentation around his hooded eyes was greyer than usual and his skin excessively white. His black, red-streaked hair hung lank around his face, like anyone else’s normal hairstyle, but it wasn’t Nate. He hadn’t even thought to mess it into his usual style.
Neill came and sat beside me. Nate’s dark eyes flickered beneath their curtains of dark lashes, watching us intently but not making much contact with our faces. “Last night,” he whispered. “Was a fucking big shock, okay? I wasn’t really thinking straight and I didn’t really- talk- to you guys at all. I just sort of listened and repeated what you said and- well, I went away pretty confused and I couldn’t sleep a wink. I wanted to come back, but by that stage it was about three in the morning and I knew someone would bite my head off, or I’d be- you know, interrupting something, like I probably am this morning. I- I can go away again if you want, and we talk about this later.”
I glanced at Neill. He was staring intently at his hands, a completely blank expression on his face. I’m not an observant person. I can’t read subtle body language and I can’t infer from what someone is saying what they really mean. I can’t read minds! And reading Neill was like trying to read tea-leaves. It either couldn’t be done or it took a skilled reader like Jill to do it! He should have trusted me with all the barbs of his past. I wouldn’t have said half the things I did if I understood where he was coming from. “No, it’s alright,” I said. If Neill wasn’t going to speak up and let me know what he thought, then I would have to make the decision for him.
“Well, I-” Nate began. He took a deep breath and his black eyes focussed on mine. I saw a strange look filled with complete bewilderment pass across his face. He started fiddling with his watch. “When did this happen, Seam? It feels like you’ve changed a lot and I didn’t even notice it happening. You’re my best friend… Why couldn’t you tell me- stuff?”
“It’s not the matter of telling anyone,” Neill said, slowly. “You’re the only one that knows and we’d like to keep it that way, at least ’til we get ourselves sorted out.” His eyes rose to exchange a look with me. “Right?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” Nate was still staring at me. “Look, Nate, it’s not like we’ve changed at all-”
“Yes, you have!” Nate interjected. “Fucking hell, Seam, I didn’t come here to yell, but don’t you dare give me that shit about not being different! ‘Cos you are, okay?”
“So what are you saying?” I asked. Those dark, hostile eyes glared at mine. There was something else hiding in his flushed expression, but for the life of me I couldn’t tell what it was. “That I’m some freak and you don’t want to have anything else to do with me or Neill in case our ‘gayness’ rubs off on you or some stupid shit like that? Real mature, Nate. I thought you were my friend!”
“For fuck’s sake, Seam, I’m still your friend! I don’t give a shit that you’re gay or you swing both ways or whatever the hell else, I just- I just thought that I knew you- I thought you would tell me stuff that’s going on! That’s what friends do! I was straight up with you about Jill, why the hell couldn’t you be straight up with me?”
Neill slowly climbed off the bed as if oblivious to the conflict around him. His face was red beneath the wealth of golden nape-length hair that fell across his face as he bent to drag open his drawers. There was a ‘bang’ as he slammed the drawer shut, dropping a pair of socks and a towel to the floor. He grabbed a pair of steel gray, belted dress pants and a shirt from the wardrobe. He picked up his handful of clothing and the towel, found his razor, shaving foam and shampoo and backed his way toward the door. “I’ve got work today and you know, this really doesn’t concern me- I hope you guys can sort this out, but I’ve really got to go and have a shower now.”
I wanted to yell at him to come back and support me instead of leaving me to pick up the shit like he always did, but he was already gone. Nathan continued to stare at me. “It’s like you wanted to get caught, leaving the door unlocked like that! Fucking hell, Seam- What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Nate that’s bull and you know it. Yes, I’m your friend and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about me and Neill, but I would have in time! Christ, I haven’t even told my own father! And if I have changed, Nate- Well, I don’t know. For a long time, I didn’t know what the hell was going on with me either. I didn’t feel comfortable with anybody; or myself, for that matter. I didn’t notice myself changing, Nate. You’re not the only one out of the loop, I was out of the loop myself!”
He plucked at his dark hair with his hands, watching me intently. The hard, furious expression on his chiselled face seemed to soften a lot. “Seamus, I’m not angry at you and I’m not saying you’re a freak or any of that stuff and I know that I really have no right accusing you of stuff. I just- I don’t know- It was a big shock, a big fucking shock- And that stuff I’ve been saying and- Seam, of course you’re still my friend! I know that you’re my friend! What the hell did you think I’d do? Kick your arse and refuse to talk to you just ‘cos you- For goodness sake, man! Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this all night. I just want to understand why you feel like this, ‘cos- No, I can’t say that- Throughout this term, you have become increasingly withdrawn. I thought there was something going on with you, I just didn’t know what. I just- I just want to be your friend again like when we were kids. I know this sounds all messed up like I’m trying to say a hundred things at once, but that’s what my mind is like at the moment.”
I didn’t know what to say. I tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace. “I’m sorry, Nate. Of course I want to stay friends with you. Hell, we met at kindergarten and we still haven’t driven each other nuts or killed each other, have we? We get along good. I was going to tell you about Neill and me, just not yet, alright? I’m still adjusting and trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m really sorry I didn’t lock the door last night, I never, ever intended you to see me like that-”
“How do you know?” Nate interrupted. He had been looking at his fingers, still intent on destroying the strap of his Casio watch. Now his worried eyes rose to mine. The skin around them was beginning to flush red. His pale, full lips were attempting to smile, but his jaw could not stop trembling.
“Know what?”
Nate shook his head. “No, it doesn’t matter.” He averted his gaze to Neill’s side of the room. His hooded eyelids and thick fan of eyelashes prevented me from seeing what was in his eyes.
“Yeah, it does,” I said. “If there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”
He kept shaking his head. “It’s nothing, man. I just got angry…” Then he seemed to think better of it. “How do you know,” he whispered, so softly that I could hardly hear him, “that you’re gay.” His big, black eyes pleaded with mine. “Cos, I think I might be too.”
That struck me like a bolt out of the blue. I got up and stepped towards him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, so I just stood there in the middle of the carpet and waited. “What? Why?”
“I- I- really like Jill. Hell, I’ve fancied her for ages, like since the beginning of this year, but she- she was your girl, so I couldn’t- She- She’s so smart and so funny and- and she’s drop-dead gorgeous! I really- I feel good when I’m near her- but- but- but, god, Seam, why the fuck couldn’t you lock the door?” Tears were bleeding trails down Nate’s reddened cheeks. I reached out to touch his shoulder, but he flinched away. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
“Nate, if you’re happy with Jill, then you can’t be gay,” I said, slowly.
“You were happy with Jill!” Nate accused. “You made her happy! She’s always fucking talking about you, you know, you and Neill and her and how much fun you guys have. You went off with her and Neill and you left me alone!”
“What are you getting at?”
Nate shook his head. “I don’t know!” he roared. “My head’s gone to shit! Yesterday, I was fine and then I walk in on you and Neill and everything goes down the fucking shitter! I really like Jill, so why the fuck did you have to fuck up my head like that?”
“I told you it was an accident! I have no intention of messing your head up or stealing Jill from you or anything like that, Nathan! I just don’t understand what you’re on about- you’re not- please stop yelling and calm down,” I pleaded. This time when I laid my hand on his shoulder, he didn’t comment or pull away. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, then sat with one hand over his mouth.
With a deep breath, he said, “I’m not- I saw- I-saw-you-with-him and- I got- It’s fucking sick-I-know- I didn’t jerk off, I’m not some fucking sicko wanker like-that- I just- God, Seam, I don’t- I don’t know why my head’s all gone to shit- I spent about thr- three hours in and out of a fucking cold- shower- last night- and I don’t know fucking what’s gotten into me-” His voice was thick and unnatural. The tears were streaming hot and fast from his eyes. He wouldn’t look at me.
“Oh, god, Nate, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I didn’t know what to do. “Have you- have you ever felt like that about guys before?”
“No! Jesus fucking no!”
“Are you hard now?”
“Seamus! What the fuck would you want- Why the hell do you want to know that?” Nate glared at me, the tears and confusion momentarily forgotten.
“Then it was probably just some weird bodily reaction from breathing in pheromones or some voyeuristic shit like you get when you’re watching porn,” I explained. “It doesn’t mean anything at all. Come on, it’s gonna be alright.”
He climbed hastily to his feet. His fingers grabbed my biceps tightly, like he was clinging to a life raft and about to drown. Tears stained his skin, leaving his eyes raw and frightened. Red lingered down his cheeks. He blinked twice, discharging more salty fluid to trace paths already forged.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Nate, you’re not crazy. Your head’s not going to shit. Everything’s just fine.”
“I s’pose so,” Nate replied. Suddenly, he seemed to lunge toward me. His face loomed closer and closer, so quickly that I didn’t have time to react. Firm, warm lips pressed against my unready, protesting mouth. An even hotter tongue dug between them, going in too deep, too fast. His thick sandpaper-like stubble grazed my skin.
My hands shoved him off. He’d taken my breath away, but not in a good kind of way. I was shocked shitless. “What the fuck, Nate? You can’t pull shit like that with me!” I snapped angrily. “What the hell were you thinking? That ‘cos I love Neill I must immediately want to kiss and fuck every guy I see! I don’t cheat and I’m not fucking interested in you like that! How could you do that to me?”
“I- I don’t know! I don’t know!” he cried. “Fucking shit, I don’t know! I wasn’t-”
By that stage, I didn’t care that he was crying like a small child. I didn’t care that he was probably confused as hell. He’d just brought to the surface all the horrible things that Liam had tried and almost succeeded to do to me. “Get the fuck out, Nate!”
“No!” He tore at my shirt with frantic fingers. I rammed him across the room, as far away from me as possible. He tripped over his feet backwards and crumpled to the floor. “No, Seam, please- I didn’t mean to!”
I stayed planted where I was. “What? You accidentally stuck your tongue in mouth? It was no fucking accident, Nate, so don’t shit with me!”
Nate crawled onto his hands and knees and slowly made his way to his feet. He made no attempt to cross the floor toward me. “Seamus- Please- I’m a stupid fuckhead- I’m just so fucked up right now- I promise it’ll never fucking happen again- I don’t even know why I did it and I- I won’t do it again-”
“How could you do that to Jill?” I snapped.
“I adore Jill! God, please don’t tell her,” he whined. “I- really-”
“I’m not going to tell her,” I replied. “But listen to me, if you really think that you’re gay, you should break up with her, ‘cos if you hurt her, I will fucking kill you!”
“I couldn’t hurt Jill… and I’m not gay. I didn’t- enjoy- what we just did- I just- had to- check-”
I raised my eyebrows at that comment. I was damned angry with Nate for everything he had just done, but I suppose I could almost understand why he did it. “So what, I’m just some fucking science experiment to you?”
Nate frowned and closed his eyes. I could see deep, stomach breaths dilating and tightening his chest through his dark t-shirt. “No, of course not, Seam-”
“Don’t call me that!” I snapped. “I hate it when you don’t say my proper name! It reminds me of all those fucking jokes the kids at school used to make up, you know about ‘a-seam-ed’ (‘ashamed’) and ‘seam-ful’ (‘shameful’)-”
“It’s a fucking nick-name, Seamus, you never told me you didn’t like it,” Nathan said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry about everything! I didn’t mean to use you by making a pass at you like that. I just don’t ever think before I do anything. You know that, you know how I am. It really doesn’t excuse anything, I know. I’m just sorry for fucking your life up. Every single stupid thing I’ve done, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be your friend!”
His final words really struck me. “You haven’t fucked my life up! It was just a stupid, misguided kiss. You’re still my friend, Nate. I should be angry, and I am, but not angry enough to accuse you of something like fucking my life up, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, dully. He looked dead miserable. “I hope this means we’re not going to be all weird around each other now, ‘cos I promise I’m not going to jump you or anything like that.”
“No, it’s fine.” I gave a half smile. Maybe it was time to change the subject. I can be a bit avoidant like that. “Coach rang this morning to tell me that I’m allowed to come to practise and play the next game. It looks like all that shit with Liam will blow over.”
“That’s good,” Nate replied. I think he was trying not to cry some more. “You know what we should do?”
“What?” I asked.
“Have a party. I bet I could bribe Greg with some kegs and a few bottles of vodka or whiskey into letting us use his room. He usually doesn’t care as long as he gets free booze and he doesn’t lose his security deposit from somebody trashing the place. I mean, your room’s so small, his is a fucking third floor mansion.”
“If you want.” I was a little blasé about the entire affair, since I believed it was an excuse to drink; to Nate and most of my friends, every night was party night. That may be why I preferred to spend time with Neill and Jill. Though they drank quite heavily, they managed to keep up more interesting conversation than where the next beer was coming from and who gave the best head. I left Nate to arrange the party as I wasn’t all that interested. I think he thought it was a way of making it up to me.
*
Neill returned from the shower, looking so hot that I wanted to drag all his office clothing off and fuck him silly, but of course I couldn’t as he was already running late. Let me tell you something, he hated those clothes, hated his three-to-four-days-per-week nine-a.m.-til-five stint at that accounting firm. I don’t exactly know what he did there, but it was something to do with typing and client databases and filing. He’d worked there for six months and his fingertips were already calloused. His eyesight had also deteriorated so much that he had to get glasses. I hardly ever saw him wearing them, since they annoyed the shit out of him.
I told Neill exactly what happened between me and Nate. He seemed happy enough on the surface with my explanation, though I caught some sort of anger or sadness flushing across his face before he hid those emotions. I let him borrow my car to go to work, since Liam had put his out of use.
*
The party was in full boom when we arrived. You could hear the bass and the catcalls from two floors down. I’m sure Greg or Nathan must have bribed some of the Hall staff into not fining them for noise pollution – in other words, they had paid the fines in advance. It’s what they usually did. They didn’t have to contend with Liam as their R.A.
Packed into Greg’s large ‘studio apartment room’ were around fifty people. I’m not kidding when I say that. They had spilled out through the gigantic lounge with its two couches, widescreen television and huge sound system (paid for by Greg, not the Hall. I think he’d put the supplied furniture in storage since it wasn’t up to his high standards. I’m certain that that was against Hall rules, but money can lubricate anything), out into the kitchen and dining area, the adjoining study and the large third floor balcony that was wide enough for a table and chairs. There was absolutely nowhere private, apart from Greg’s bedroom, which looked to be both locked and barricaded.
I was terribly tempted to turn around and drag Neill back to our room. His appearance was driving me to distraction. I could see his virile package swelling out the coarse fabric of his jeans, leaving me in no doubt that his cock hung loose down his left trouser leg. His white shirt was made from a silky, synthetic fabric that skimmed perfectly over his muscled shoulders and chest without clinging too much. An open, mustard coloured jacket covered his back to the pockets of his jeans. While it was well-tailored to his form, being about thirty years old and thus secondhand, it smelt like an old man. Still it was very Neill – he always did look out-of-place in the trackpants and rugby jerseys I wore. His tanned skin was dark against his blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. A warm, knee-weakening smile that could light a room decorated the muscles his handsome face. All in all, the sight was breath-taking.
Neill knew I was nervous about seeing Nate and explaining to Jill exactly why I had gotten into a fight with Liam, but wouldn’t let me get out of going to the party. Our gentle arguing was one of the reasons that we were late, that and the fact that we just had to have sex. Of course, Nate, Jill and a couple of other people had texted us to get our arses up stairs so it was a quickie. I didn’t doubt that there’d be more later.
We strolled slowly inside, pushing our way through the people and getting a pile of ‘howzits’ and a few ‘congrats’ about being back on the team. I think most of those there had no idea why there was a party, just heard the music and turned up for free beer (the bill for which Greg and Nate would undoubtedly share with me later). I was glad of that; I hate to be the centre of attention.
“Hey, Greg!” I said. Greg was trying to persuade a blonde and her brunette friend to stop jumping on his couch. He had covered all his plush furniture with the painter’s tarpaulins he kept hidden in his wardrobe for such occasions (he learned early that the scent of vomit lingers long after the chunks are gone). Greg was a tall, lanky guy with a Beatles’ haircut. He was what they call a ‘ginger’ or more explicitly, ‘a Daywalker’, as his hair was a fiery, sun-streaked copper colour and his skin was pale yet unfreckled. He got some shit about his hair, but he gave as good as he got, and it really was part of his identity.
Greg gave me a harassed smile. Just as he was about to reply, a scream came from the kitchen, loud enough to penetrate through the heavy bass of the stereo. “Fuck!” he swore, and that was that. He went to investigate what was going on.
Now that I was closer, I recognised the blonde girl jumping on the couch. She had wavy peroxide treated hair, heavily smudged eye make-up, and a pale lilac smile drawn on with lipstick. Her top was low and glitzy, while her skirt was one of those short, pink pleated numbers. Killer gold heels, pointed at the toe and undoubtedly stabbing into Greg’s furniture, shackled her feet. “Becky!” I said, with a grin I most definitely didn’t feel. This was the girl that had draped herself all over me a few nights earlier. I’m not being cruel when I call her the Hall bike, trust me, everyone, including some of the girls, had had a ride. She was a walking STD.
Becky ignored me, launching herself from the couch so that her legs and arms were wrapped around Neill. I wanted to kill her. “Neill!” she trilled. “I never got a chance to congratulate your pool victory the other night!” Her stained lips were already buried in his neck.
I was pleased to see Neill push her off. “Thanks Becks, but I distinctly remember that you did give me a congratulatory kiss, so I guess we’re even.” He started to weave his way through the crowds, and before I could catch up with him, Becky had grabbed his wrist and wrestled him to an area where couples were dancing. The nameless brunette joined them, grinding herself against his firm buttocks, cradled in the well-worn denim of some retro flared jeans. He gave me one of those ‘help me’ looks and I thought I’d have to go and save him.
“Seamus!” a voice called as I set off on my Neill-rescuing mission.
I wheeled about to find Jill. Her dark hair was tied up in a high pony-tail, drawing attention to her perfectly formed cheekbones and kohl-lined blue eyes. A black singlet showed off the curves of her milky skinned breasts, while her skirt was one of those long, bohemian things. “Hey,” I said.
“Hi,” she replied. “I dropped in yesterday, but you were drugged out of your little skull and Nurse Neill wouldn’t let me wake you up. He really cares about you, you know.”
“I know.” I glanced back at Neill, who now seemed to be in his element, his hands rippling up and down Becky’s body. The ‘help me’ look was replaced by one of his lascivious smirks. He actually poked his tongue out at me. I inwardly fumed.
Jill followed my line of sight. “He’s a big boy, he can look after himself,” she hissed in my ear. “Come on, let’s go get you a beer.”
I reluctantly followed Jill into the kitchen, where Greg was helping an Asian girl to pick up the remains of a vodka bottle. Another girl had a nasty cut on her hand. Her boyfriend was going to take her to find the floor first aid kit. Jill grabbed a couple of beer bottles from the fridge and guided me through the dining area, where somebody had set up some kegs on the linoleum. The guys there were challenging each other to drink yard glasses; long, trumpet-shaped glasses with a bulbous bottom that held about two litres of beer. I saw one guy get completely drenched when the beer flowed out quicker than he could swallow. Nate was in that crowd and tried to pull Jill and I into it as well. He didn’t seem too miffed when Jill said we’d go out on the balcony for a bit and come back later. By that stage, it looked and smelled like he had a few drinks under his belt.
Outside, we dragged a couple of chairs into a dark corner and stared out onto the night-lit campus. There were a few stoners and cigarette smokers in small groupings leaning against the railing. Their speech was nothing but quiet murmurs and a few laughs, a complete contrast to the raucous revelling inside. I noticed several couples making out, but didn’t look too hard.
“If you don’t mind my saying, you look like shit,” Jill said matter-of-factly. She was right, of course. The pink-rimmed graze along the left side of my face had dried to the extent that it was tight and beginning to crack. Varying shades of bruising dappled the opposite cheekbone and the bony ridge above my eye, which was adorned by the taut, black butterflies of four sutures. I would have looked like shit whatever I wore, but Neill insisted I ‘dress for the occasion’, if only to make him happy. So I found myself in jeans and a pale green polo shirt.
“You don’t say.” I flicked the twist-top off my beer and took a long swig from the bottle.
“Nate and I heard you arguing with Neill last night,” Jill told me. She didn’t try to explain why Nate had been in her room. “I’m really glad that you were able to talk him out of going after Liam. I don’t want to see him get himself in trouble. I’m glad that he cares about you enough to listen.”
I got the impression that Jill knew something about our relationship, but I shrugged that off. Jill was always one to get to the crux of the matter without thought for fickle things like feelings. Not that she was malicious, just plainly spoken and down-to-earth. “I suppose so,” I said, softly. “Though he’s got every right to be angry with Liam.”
It was too dark for me to ascertain what expression was on Jill’s face. She spoke carefully, though her voice was a pitch sharper and sounded dangerous. If she were a dog, I would expect her hackles to be up. “What on earth do you mean by that?”
“What d’you think I mean?” I challenged.
Jill didn’t say anything for a moment. It wasn’t like her to hide things. “I know that Liam has managed to give you and Neill as much stick as he can this year and certainly that dirty trick he pulled to get Neill’s car towed was a low blow. Whatever happened at your rugby practise should have brought to your attention that Liam is a sick fuck and he will use whatever he can to make other people’s lives miserable. You and Neill need to keep out of his way because whatever you do in retaliation, he’ll find something a hundred times worse to do in return. He won’t think twice about it.”
“What do you know that I don’t? You keep on hinting at some deep, dark secret about Liam. Come on, out with it! Stop feeding me up on half-truths and little hints and tell the full truth, Jill.”
“Stop being paranoid, Seamus,” Jill replied. She took a deep swig of her beer and placed a firm hand on my knee. “There isn’t a big secret, I’ve just been watching Liam lately and I know that trouble is brewing, alright?”
We chatted for a while longer, probably about an hour. Jill wanted to set me up with some girl she knew, but I talked her out of it. In the end, we wandered back inside and were immediately accosted by Nathan. He had never been one to hold his liquor particularly well. It had been embarrassing when I was at high school. Still, that didn’t stop him binge drinking on numerous occasions until he either vomited or passed out. His blue t-shirt was soaked with so much beer that I could smell him from six feet away. The stained wet fabric clung to his chiselled chest. Somewhere along the way he’d chucked his pants and was now only in a pair of baggy Spongebob Squarepants boxer shorts. His feet were bare and ready to stand in spilled beer, spat out chewing gum, broken glass and whatever other disgusting things that had been dropped to the floor. When I glanced at his eyes, I saw that his lids were lowered more than usual and that they had that bleary ‘out-of-it’ look. “Where have you two beens?” he slurred.
Jill frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. I don’t think she realised that action caused her breasts to bulge invitingly upwards. “I told you we were going outside for a drink.”
“You should… have been back agesh ago,” Nate said. He almost absentmindedly stroked a hand through her hair, or at least I’m sure that’s what he intended to do. His hand was a little heavy and knocked a handful of silken locks across her porcelain-pale face.
She immediately backed off a bit. “I think you’ve had a bit much, Nathan. Where the hell are your pants?”
He shook his head, as if trying to shake the alcohol out of his mind. “Um, Kev took them. I losht a bet…” He swayed a little and groped at her breasts to steady himself. “I love your titsh, Jill, they’re sho… perky.”
“This is not a turn on,” Jill snapped. She slapped his hands down. “You’re out of it, I think you should sit down and stop slobbering on me.”
Nate grabbed her a little more possessively this time, dragging her curvy frame against his. He lapped his drooling, pink tongue over Jill’s flinching face. “Now that’s shlobbering,” he lisped. “Mmmm… you taste… like- like flowersh…”
“Don’t Nathan!” Jill gasped, jamming her elbows into his chest. She easily broke his grasp and started to walk away.
“Oh come on, Jill, you loves it when I licks you- espec- espeshh- your cunt tastes so good… like flowersh!” His voice was loud and quite a few people had stopped dancing and were staring at them. And laughing
Jill turned with the ease of a ballerina. Of course, ballerinas never scream, “That was my face you just drooled all over, arsehole! Fuck you!”
He made an attempt to shamble after her, but I caught his arm before he could go very far. It almost knocked him off balance. “Let her go,” I told him, firmly. “You’re just gonna fuck up some more if you try to talk to her while you’re this boozed.”
“You!” Nathan accused, stabbing a finger at my face.
“Yeah, me. Seamus. Let’s get you sitting down so you can sober up.” Those were the same words I had continually told him through most of high school. He had seemed to calm down when he hit university, but lately he had shown up to rugby practise hung-over. I knew he drank heavily, yet I hadn’t really paid much attention to him lately. That night was a bit of a wake-up call for everybody involved. “Someone get him some water!”
“You!” He repeated. “What the… were you doing to my- my Jill!”
“We were talking on the balcony,” I said.
Nate’s bloodshot eyes seem to flare, his eyelids flapping upwards. “No, you fucking weren’t!”
“Yes, we were.” I gazed steadily at him. It was impossible to argue with him when he was like that. I tried to placate him. “Drink this down, it’ll-”
“No!” His large fist knocked the paper cup from my hand, sending water spilling on the carpet. “No! You’re fucking poishoning me!”
“I’m not.”
Before I knew it, he was on his feet, suddenly moving faster than I thought possible for someone that drunk. His arms floundered but they still packed a hard punch, knocking the air from my stomach. “YOU’RE GAY! YOU’RE A FUCKING FAGGOT QUEER!” For the second time in as many days I caught a fist with my face. “WHY THE FUCK YOU DOING TO JILLS? YOU SHED YOU WOULDN’ CHEAT ON NEILL! WHAT YOU WANTSH WIV MY GIRL, FAG!”
I pushed him back, easily knocking him to the ground. I saw bewildered faces all around, staring at and mocking me, or so it seemed at the time. Someone had shut the music off. “I’M NOT GAY! YOU ARE DRUNK OUT OF YOUR BRAIN, NATE! JILL AND I WERE TALKING ON THE DECK! WE TOLD YOU WE WERE GOING TO BE OUT THERE! DON’T YOU DARE ACCUSE ME OF SHIT LIKE THAT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!”
There was a loud burp, followed by that disgusting chunky cough that you hear when somebody loses their guts. I heard somebody, I think it was Greg, yell, “Not on the carpet! Someone get him outside!”
A few people tittered as the crowd parted to allow a couple of guys to drag Nate’s now limp, groaning body out onto the balcony. I glanced around for Neill, but I couldn’t see him. It’s all a bit of a blur to me. “You too,” Greg snapped. “Outside, you’re bleeding on the carpet!” I found someone pushing me outside as well. My mouth was filled with the salty, sweetness of blood. Another split lip. ‘Great,’ I thought.
“Is it true?” a male voice asked, loudly.
“Of course, it’s not true,” Greg shouted. “Nate’s just a drunk, crazy prick! Everyone knows that!” I owed him for standing up for my ‘straightness’ so quickly. It really was just as I thought. Nobody would really believe that I was gay, would they? And did it even matter? No. What mattered was that I had confided in someone I thought I could trust and they had not only broken that trust, but also our friendship.
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“Yeah!” a few other people agreed. I blocked the rest out, sinking into a chair in the dark, crisp night air. I don’t know who was out there with me, although I could clearly hear Nathan being sick somewhere nearby. I shut my eyes and wished that my life was a videocassette or a DVD and I could rewind and erase the last ten minutes. I wanted Neill. Where the fuck was he? Hiding? Fucking Becky? What? If I wasn’t such a wimp, I would have walked back through that crowd of people to find him.
Instead, I just sat there and listened to all those voices spilling out into the darkness from the warm room within. I don’t know what was said, just knew that there was a lot of murmuring. Then the music started again and drowned them out. The closer sounds of Nate’s vomiting and sobbing didn’t go away that easily.
“Seam, you- out here?” I heard him whimper. “I’m shorry…”
Someone told him to shut the fuck up. I ignored him. “I dunno… why I shed dat… Seamush…”
Over the next quarter of an hour, Nate continued to babble slow, shambling, slurred sentences. “I’m sho shorry… Seam… I know none… of it’sh true… I… you and Jill… good friendsh… she… talksh about you… shorry… shorry… I… never good enuff… I’m not… jealoush… shouldn’t be… you sho happy… I got nothink… Seam… I’m sho shorry… what I shed… didn’t mean shit… I’m… shit… I’m shit… shorry… you fucked my… head up… you alwaysh better than… me… not… jealoush… I love… you… I know I’m shit… not good enuff… can’t tell you why… I’m sho shorry… Seam… are you listhenink… I lovesh you… my friend… but I’m not… good enuff… ever… you… ignoresh me… I’m sho shorry… sho… sho… shorry… can’t trusht me… with… anythink… shorry… love you… what I shed didn’t mean… shit…”
Author’s comment: So what do you think? Leave a comment, yell at me, give me your opinion. I think the next chapter will be the end…
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