Tuesday, September 2, 2008
mini-happy!-cake
It was Jonny's birthday. Thom had an elaborate plan to make it a momentous occasion. That morning, Jonny woke up with arms and legs completely spread, each limb tied to one of the four bedposts. Thom had just finished covering the birthday boy's naked body in vegan chocolate sauce. "Many happy returns, Jon-Jon!" he grinned as he proceeded to run his tongue down the flavoured flesh of his lover. His beard tickled Jonny's sensitive skin and the latter regularly let out an excited giggle. When finished with the licking and the hours of kinky sex, Thom would take Jonny to the zoo. Jonny loved watching the penguins. Afterwards there would be a great dinner and more kinky sex: Thom had arranged for a threesome with Colin. This would certainly be a trip down memory lane for Jonny.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The One That I Want
[warning: contro]
Colin must be the best brother in the universe. There are millions of things that could vouch for him to earn that title, but the following is something special. I know that we can’t ever tell anyone what happened, but I’ll always have the knowledge that he’d do anything for me.
That time, I actually was the one that had come to him. At four in the morning, after that party at Ed’s. I had told him, between tears and chokes, that we had kissed, me and Thom. That the moment our lips parted he had told me he was seeing someone. A girl he’d met. After two years of denial, hope, nerves, lust, cowardice and finally courage, my world had been reduced to zero.
Colin was the one I could turn to. Of course. At four in the morning, he had been the one soothing me, not by telling me what a bastard that Yorke was. Not by telling me I was still so young and I’d meet tons of other brilliant people. Not by patting my back and handing me another beer. No, he’d taken me in his arms. He hadn’t said a word, just pulled me in a hug, and I had clung to him as if there was no tomorrow. Because there really wasn’t.
Colin knew me. Because he knew himself. We’re too much alike, we are. There are siblings who have entirely different characters, can’t even manage to choose a movie together. Not us. He knew what I needed, and in hindsight it may not have been the best option there was, but it felt like it was back then.
We were still hugging tightly when I felt his hands wander over my back, soothing. We were both sitting on the edge of his bed, turned to each other, one knee pulled up on the bed. The hands became more persistent, carefully pressing down whilst caressing every inch of my back. One hand moved down, then traveled over my hipbone to my thigh. Warm breath tickled my ear when a soft voice spoke.
“He really hurt you, didn’t he.”
A few fresh tears sprung from my eyes as I nodded, wiping at my cheeks. He really had. Colin’s cheek briefly touched mine, and that one gesture somehow made everything better. It soothed me more than words could have done. I pulled him closer to me, hugged him tighter, and whispered a ‘thank you’ that was little more than a breath. At that, his hand found the bare skin under my T-shirt and started drawing little circles, barely touching. It was strangely exciting, but I blamed it on myself. Until he spoke again.
“You’re so tense. So frustrated.”
I knew what he was talking about the moment I felt his lips on my jaw and his left hand on my stomach. And he was right, I was frustrated. I still had such a high from that kiss. The hands and lips traveling over my body were hitting all the right spots at exactly the right pace, and I answered by lifting my head up, so he had better access to my neck. Colin didn’t hesitate and soon I felt a wet tongue trailing over my skin. I slowly let go of him, my eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, panting heavily.
“I know, Jonny. I know what it’s like. Let me make it better.”
He crawled over me as I leaned back, never entirely losing contact with my body, which was pleasantly ignoring my brain, screaming for us to stop. The words he then said to me were the ones that pulled me over, made me give in.
“Just pretend I’m him.”
And so I did.
At twenty past four in the morning, our mouths sought and found each other, and it wasn’t all that different from the hour before. Only when I pulled away this time, there were no lame excuses, no apologies, no leaving me behind against the back wall of the garden shed. There were only soft understanding hands, moving over all the right places, all the places Thom had touched in my mind. My mind, that was having a hard time separating reality from fantasy, and when a hand undid my trousers I could’ve sworn it was Thom’s. Keeping my eyes firmly shut, I let physical pleasure take over.
It wasn’t long before a skilled tongue started licking around my by then straining erection, and in the pitch dark behind my eyes I could see Thom down there, looking up at me from under blond strands of hair, a deviant smirk on his face. My moaning was answered by the mouth engulfing me completely, sucking me off hard. I didn’t last long, and arched my back whilst crying out from behind my own hand.
But Colin wasn’t finished; he coated himself with my come and ripped off my jeans and socks. Too tired from the afterglow, I could only watch with a frown, realisation dawning on me only when he put two slick fingers in me. I wanted to say many things, but all I could do was gasp at the alien sensation. When after a few moments the fingers were replaced by a hard cock my eyes squeezed shut again, and I didn’t think of protesting any longer. It was Thom who was fucking me. It was Thom’s hand that held onto my hip as the other wrapped around my hardening cock, still so sensitive from orgasm. Those lips against my neck were Thom’s, the heavy breathing was his. He was picking up speed, filling me up again and again, hip bone scraping hip bone in frantic movement. I started pushing back, arching my back every time he came down, and both of us didn’t last long, me coming for the second time that night, Thom’s name on my lips, my own hanging in the air.
The next morning I woke up alone. Colin was asleep in the other bed, his back turned to me. Despite feeling so grateful for having a brother like him, he couldn’t help the fact that he just wasn’t the boy it was supposed to be. He just wasn’t Thom. I clutched the sheets until my knuckles turned white, but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. I silently cried myself back to sleep, my head a complicated mixture of overwhelming gratitude and love sickness.
Colin must be the best brother in the universe. There are millions of things that could vouch for him to earn that title, but the following is something special. I know that we can’t ever tell anyone what happened, but I’ll always have the knowledge that he’d do anything for me.
That time, I actually was the one that had come to him. At four in the morning, after that party at Ed’s. I had told him, between tears and chokes, that we had kissed, me and Thom. That the moment our lips parted he had told me he was seeing someone. A girl he’d met. After two years of denial, hope, nerves, lust, cowardice and finally courage, my world had been reduced to zero.
Colin was the one I could turn to. Of course. At four in the morning, he had been the one soothing me, not by telling me what a bastard that Yorke was. Not by telling me I was still so young and I’d meet tons of other brilliant people. Not by patting my back and handing me another beer. No, he’d taken me in his arms. He hadn’t said a word, just pulled me in a hug, and I had clung to him as if there was no tomorrow. Because there really wasn’t.
Colin knew me. Because he knew himself. We’re too much alike, we are. There are siblings who have entirely different characters, can’t even manage to choose a movie together. Not us. He knew what I needed, and in hindsight it may not have been the best option there was, but it felt like it was back then.
We were still hugging tightly when I felt his hands wander over my back, soothing. We were both sitting on the edge of his bed, turned to each other, one knee pulled up on the bed. The hands became more persistent, carefully pressing down whilst caressing every inch of my back. One hand moved down, then traveled over my hipbone to my thigh. Warm breath tickled my ear when a soft voice spoke.
“He really hurt you, didn’t he.”
A few fresh tears sprung from my eyes as I nodded, wiping at my cheeks. He really had. Colin’s cheek briefly touched mine, and that one gesture somehow made everything better. It soothed me more than words could have done. I pulled him closer to me, hugged him tighter, and whispered a ‘thank you’ that was little more than a breath. At that, his hand found the bare skin under my T-shirt and started drawing little circles, barely touching. It was strangely exciting, but I blamed it on myself. Until he spoke again.
“You’re so tense. So frustrated.”
I knew what he was talking about the moment I felt his lips on my jaw and his left hand on my stomach. And he was right, I was frustrated. I still had such a high from that kiss. The hands and lips traveling over my body were hitting all the right spots at exactly the right pace, and I answered by lifting my head up, so he had better access to my neck. Colin didn’t hesitate and soon I felt a wet tongue trailing over my skin. I slowly let go of him, my eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, panting heavily.
“I know, Jonny. I know what it’s like. Let me make it better.”
He crawled over me as I leaned back, never entirely losing contact with my body, which was pleasantly ignoring my brain, screaming for us to stop. The words he then said to me were the ones that pulled me over, made me give in.
“Just pretend I’m him.”
And so I did.
At twenty past four in the morning, our mouths sought and found each other, and it wasn’t all that different from the hour before. Only when I pulled away this time, there were no lame excuses, no apologies, no leaving me behind against the back wall of the garden shed. There were only soft understanding hands, moving over all the right places, all the places Thom had touched in my mind. My mind, that was having a hard time separating reality from fantasy, and when a hand undid my trousers I could’ve sworn it was Thom’s. Keeping my eyes firmly shut, I let physical pleasure take over.
It wasn’t long before a skilled tongue started licking around my by then straining erection, and in the pitch dark behind my eyes I could see Thom down there, looking up at me from under blond strands of hair, a deviant smirk on his face. My moaning was answered by the mouth engulfing me completely, sucking me off hard. I didn’t last long, and arched my back whilst crying out from behind my own hand.
But Colin wasn’t finished; he coated himself with my come and ripped off my jeans and socks. Too tired from the afterglow, I could only watch with a frown, realisation dawning on me only when he put two slick fingers in me. I wanted to say many things, but all I could do was gasp at the alien sensation. When after a few moments the fingers were replaced by a hard cock my eyes squeezed shut again, and I didn’t think of protesting any longer. It was Thom who was fucking me. It was Thom’s hand that held onto my hip as the other wrapped around my hardening cock, still so sensitive from orgasm. Those lips against my neck were Thom’s, the heavy breathing was his. He was picking up speed, filling me up again and again, hip bone scraping hip bone in frantic movement. I started pushing back, arching my back every time he came down, and both of us didn’t last long, me coming for the second time that night, Thom’s name on my lips, my own hanging in the air.
The next morning I woke up alone. Colin was asleep in the other bed, his back turned to me. Despite feeling so grateful for having a brother like him, he couldn’t help the fact that he just wasn’t the boy it was supposed to be. He just wasn’t Thom. I clutched the sheets until my knuckles turned white, but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. I silently cried myself back to sleep, my head a complicated mixture of overwhelming gratitude and love sickness.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Meeting Jonny, pts 1-6
[warning: contro]
The fields surrounding the university campus were enlightened by several spots coming from the stage. The space in front of it was packed with people holding beers or snacks, available from the numerous stands surrounding the area. A loose, friendly atmosphere hung in the now slightly chilly air. It was the week before the Easter holidays, and thus time for the annual Cambridge mini-festival, which the Board of Students always organised and had lamely called Music for Students for Music. Luckily, only the posters and flyers kept using that name.
Of course Colin was there. He had a few friends within the Board and was asked to write a little piece for the university newspaper, what with his broad knowledge of music. Colin had cringed; the newspaper wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you wanted to have something to do with, let alone be a part of. But his love for music and writing had gotten the best of him and with a smile he had accepted the task, after emphasizing the fact that he’d be helping them out.
The lineup, he had to admit, was rather impressive. Not taking the opening acts into consideration. The festival would, naturally, start with two bands from Cambridge. Shameless self-promotion of a few geeks, probably, that’d surely keep dropping their picks. Why would they get the benefit of knowing people from the Board and he’d get the shitty jobs?
Realising the power he’d be having writing their reviews, Colin smirked inwardly. He walked around the stage, flashed the guard his pass and entered the backstage area. Looking for a quiet place to sit down, already coming up with some snarky comments, he accidentally bumped into someone. Startled, he looked up.
‘Someone’ appeared to be two people, to be correct. The first, a short guy with peroxide blond hair pointing in all directions, snorted audibly and walked on without a second glance. The second, however, froze and apologised quietly, asking if he was ok. If Colin would have been able to give him a proper look, he would’ve seen a lanky figure, dark-haired, all jutting bones and slenderness, a certain grace surrounding his gestures. But Colin could only stare into chocolate brown eyes, almost black in this absence of light, partly covered by a black fringe. When the boy opened his mouth again to repeat his question, Colin’s gaze dropped a few inches and rested on full lips. That was the moment where he felt the blush creeping up. He had to get away as soon as possible. Quickly assuring him that yes, he was fine, no problem, he noticed the lips slightly forming a smile before he turned around, practically running towards the trailer with toilets.
Colin dropped his notebook and pen on the sink before letting cold water fill his cupped hands. What the hell just happened? Splashing water onto his face to try and take the red away, he sighed, but it came out all desperate. He looked into the mirror. Same face as ever, except for the reddened cheekbones and worried frown. Thinking back to the other guy, the rude one, it struck him. It was a singer, he’d seen him on a picture. A picture of the main act. He had just bumped into On A Friday. Okay. So what about the other boy? Desperately repressing any further thoughts, he tried to think reasonably. He barely looked sixteen. Sounded older though. Could he be in the band as well? Was he a roadie, a friend? A boyfriend, maybe? Colin slapped himself inwardly and made his way towards the bar, deciding between either getting completely pissed tonight, or getting a fucking grip.
Part II
Thom was being a prick. Prick Thom was hard to handle. Even for Jonny. Thom had been going on and on about Cambridge people. How snobistic they were. How much they actually looked down on them. How they were all combed hair and smart talk in libraries and nerdy maths contests and their graduation would probably be the first party they’d go to.
“Thom, they picked us to be their main act.”
“Yeah, well I’d like to see who picked us, and the entire line-up, for that matter. Probably some friend of a friend who-“
“Good God, are you really supposed to be 21? Just give it up already, be glad we’ve got a show and some publicity -“
“And what kind is that? Headlining a Cambridge festival? People’ll start to think things, Jonny, they’ll associate us with them, they’ll think we owed them or something.” His tone was pure vomit.
Jonny just rolled his eyes.
“What?!” Thom spat.
“We’re on in ten minutes, don’t fuck up.” Jonny turned on his heels and left.
“Don’t bloody fuck up??” he repeated to the door, baffled.
Standing at the right edge of the stage, Colin was pretty much enjoying himself. The main act was giving everything they had, and while the lead singer was obviously in a bad mood, he played and sang along effortlessly. Well, the singer wasn’t exactly the one that was getting Colin’s attention anyway. He couldn’t stop gazing at that dark-haired guitarist in front of him, thrashing about on his Telecaster as if there was no tomorrow. Surprisingly, what came out were clean sounds, each played note deliberately chosen and each solo brilliantly blending with the music. And the way he was moving... The way he swished his long hair this way and that, momentarily revealing that beautiful face in an expression that made Colin’s knees grow weak. He had no idea what was going on, what his body was telling him; he only knew that he was enjoying it to the fullest.
Before Colin knew it, it was over. People were walking back towards the bar, leaving Colin standing there. He hadn’t written down a single word on his notepad. Suddenly a brave thought entered his mind. But Colin didn’t feel brave enough yet to carry out his plan. Making his way over to the bar for the required amount of bear, he was already scribbling furiously on his notepad.
The others were still changing clothes when Thom opened the door of their trailer, cigarette hanging down the corner of his mouth, snarling a “what?” to whoever had dared disturbing him.
“Eh, hello, I was wondering if you could spare a few minutes-“
“Spare a few minutes,” Thom mockingly repeated in his most posh accent. “Look, I don’t need this smart talk, just say what you want to say. And hurry up, ‘cause I need to take a piss.”
Colin understood, composed himself quickly, put on his sternest face and said, ”I need you for an interview.”
Thom, for a second taken aback by the sudden change of attitude, grinned, then rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Ten minutes.”
“I’ll be in trailer four.” And Colin was already walking away, not sparing Thom a second glance.
Colin, surprised with his own boldness, sat down at the table after having put a chair on the other side. Tapping his pen nervously on the wood, he reread the questions he had prepared for the nth time.
When the door finally opened, Colin was mortified to see that the guitarist – Jonny, if he had read correctly – had decided to come along. Thom sat down on the chair, obviously still in a mood, while Jonny was looking around the trailer, seemingly in search of something.
Dammit! thought Colin, and he quickly stood up, brushed some coats from a chair in the corner and placed it in front of Jonny.
“Thanks,” the latter repeated with a soft smile.
Colin felt his courage melting each second. He sat down on the opposite side, flashed a glance at his notebook, cleared his throat and started off.
Half an hour later, the tension had eased away slightly, and though Colin still refused to look Jonny in the eye directly, he had managed to get a few interesting answers from both of them. Thom had opened up and had talked a fair bit, though when Colin had asked them how they enjoyed being here, Jonny had quickly answered that it was lovely, glaring at Thom warningly. Suddenly, the door opened and Thom was asked for a picture.
Within five seconds, the door slammed shut again and Colin was trapped with Jonny opposite him, legs crossed, fingers entwined in his lap. One finger was drumming a strange off-beat rhythm.
Curious, Colin asked him about his taste in music.
It was bang on. Jonny’s face lit up, and before he knew it they were talking rather animatedly about the new Pixies album - which they both agreed wasn’t their best - the tragedy that was Ian Curtis and the breaking up of Talking Heads. Finally meeting someone who shared his favourite bands was a relief. He had almost forgot about his former bashfulness, when the door swung open and a familiar, clearly irritated voice shouted “Jonathan! We’re loading the van, mate! Come on!”
Rolling his eyes, Jonny let out a sigh and stood up. Not knowing what to do, Colin stood up as well, straightening his sweater. Suddenly, Jonny stuck out his hand. Colin hesitantly took it, and at that moment their eyes met. A flash of heat shot through Colin. Before he could react, a small smile formed on Jonny’s face and he shook his head, letting more hair fall over his eyes. Reluctantly, they let go. Colin just stood there, kicking himself inwardly to fucking say something. But Jonny was first.
“Bye... eh, what’s your name actually?”
“Colin.”
“Bye Colin.”
“Take care.” He had meant to say it in a cool way, but it came out all wrong and serious.
Jonny smiled and walked out the door, scratching his head.
Colin copied the gesture.
Part III
Thom had noticed. At least, he thought he had noticed. Sometimes Thom noticed too quickly, you see. But he was pretty sure now. He had noticed the way the interviewer was fidgeting, how his eyelashes kept flopping down whenever Jonny said something. He had noticed that Jonny had noticed. Jonny was clearly flattered and therefore less inhibited. Thom had smelled the tension in the room.
And he hated it. Thom hated it. Thom was quite a territorial person and he knew the effect Jonny had on certain people all too well. What Thom wanted from Jonny wasn’t exactly love or anything – that would be ridiculous – he just wanted his undivided attention. Which he had gotten ever since the boy had been allowed to join the band.
So when they were all standing backstage drinking a few more beers, not at all in a hurry to leave, Thom made sure he draped his arm around Jonny’s waist a little more than often, and when he felt Jonny melting into his touch, he calmed down a bit. Maybe it was his imagination after all.
Colin was talking to a girl from class, not at all registering what she was going on about. They were slowly walking through the backstage area when Colin spotted the On A Friday crew. His eyes found Jonny and took in the sight of Thom’s arm around his waist. Anger bolted through his thin frame, repressing disappointment vehemently. This was one of those ‘now or never’ moments. With a lame excuse he left his fellow student and made his way towards the group of people. Upon approaching, Jonny was the first to notice Colin and he quickly detached himself from Thom’s grip. A few glances were exchanged within seconds, and it seemed as if Jonny was quietly apologising. Colin couldn’t help but smile faintly, before stepping into the circle.
“I thought you guys had already left. Didn’t you say you were from Oxford?”
The last question was directed towards Thom, who startled.
“Eh, yeah.”
Seemingly finding back his role, he added an arrogant “What’s it to you?”
Colin smiled, pretending not to have noticed Thom’s snapping, and answered calmly, “It’s just that Oxford is a few hour ride from here, I was wondering if you were planning on driving all night.”
At this moment, Jonny dropped in.
“We’re staying in a hotel in the centre. Normally we can’t afford it, but headlining a festival does have its advantages cash-wise,” he laughed. Colin laughed as well. Thom thought he was about to throw up. When their conversation flipped to Magazine, he couldn’t help but interfere.
“Secondhand Daylight is way better.”
“What’s that all about, Thom? You’ve always proclaimed the sheer brilliance of Real Life!” replied Jonny, raising an eyebrow.
“Their later stuff is just better. Jackson leaving had a great deal to do with that.”
Colin jumped.
“Jackson was brilliant! They never again reached the level of Real Life because he left!”
“I’m going to have to agree with that, Thom,” Jonny added.
“Shut up, Jonny. You never even heard Magic, Murder and the Water,” Thom snapped.
“Weather,” Colin corrected.
“Whatever,” Thom sighed, rolling his eyes. I need to get out of here for the benefit of the atmosphere, he thought, leaving to get a few more beers.
Colin and Jonny watched Thom leaving. Jonny was frowning.
“Is he in a bad mood or is he always like that?” Colin dared asking.
Jonny sighed.
“Bad mood. No idea why though. He’s been like that ever since we arrived here.”
“I see. So, you’ve never heard Magic, Murder and the Weather, then?”
“Well, no. My sister traded Magazine for Joy Division after Secondhand Daylight. I didn’t complain, though,” Jonny added, smiling.
“I wouldn’t have either,” said Colin, clearly impressed. He started saying something else, then hesitated. Jonny looked at him, waiting patiently. After the easy talking of the past minutes, that look brought Colin right back to where he was before, complete with sweating palms and a blank mind. Now or never, the thought again.
“Maybe I could... I have the record, would you... I mean, my room is just across the field, I suppose you could give it a quick listen, it’s great,” he stuttered, pointing towards the dark Cambridge buildings.
Jonny’s mouth opened, stayed like that for a second, then shut again. He looked over his shoulder to where Thom had disappeared, then to the other band members.
Colin’s hope and bravery sank with every second. This was going wrong. Until he noticed a small smile upon the guitarist’s face.
“Sure,” Jonny nodded. He turned towards Phil and Ed, explaining that he would be gone for a while.
“You don’t have to wait up, I’ll find my way back to the hotel, it’s not that far.”
Phil and Ed, both more than a little intoxicated, didn’t seem to mind. They didn’t seem to register him very clearly either, but Jonny quietly ignored that fact.
Soon they were on their way down muddy paths towards the on-campus dorms, Colin trying to remember in what state he’d left his room earlier that day, Jonny thinking about how crazy he actually was, going home with a complete stranger. But was he? Throwing a quick glance at the boy next to him, he had that feeling again. The feeling like he’d known him his entire life. A familiar feeling entered his belly, and he thought of his early years with Thom. God, he had worshiped him. Crush would be a terrible euphemism. While Thom had made clear from the start that it wasn’t ever going to work out between them, that wouldn’t stop them from exploring each other to the fullest.
“So, you and Thom...” Colin broke the silence.
Oh hey, a mind reader.
“Yeah?”
“Eh, you and Thom, do you... get on well? I mean when he’s not in a bad mood,” he added with a grin whilst jumping over a particularly big puddle.
“Oh... er, yes, we’re best friends, actually. Tell each other everything and stuff. Yeah,” he answered, walking around the puddle.
“Best friends? As in...” Colin hesitated. He had to know.
Jonny answered quickly, “No no, not like that, no,” laughing nervously. He reconsidered and, smiling, added, “Well... not... entirely.”
Part IV
They had entered the building and were approaching the large staircase, but Colin stopped in his tracks. Jonny heard it and looked around.
“What?” he asked with a grin, scratching his head, sending strands of silky hair covering his face.
Colin looked back boldly, then answered “Nothing,” He grinned mischievously and scurried up the stairs. Jonny had to increase his pace to keep up. The first floor was deserted, and Colin quickly unlocked the door of his room. He then stuck out an arm invitingly, motioning for Jonny to come in.
Jonny didn’t even have time to register the inside of the room before he was slammed into the door. Colin was using his entire body to keep him there, holding his wrists in a tight grip against the door. He brought his lips close to Jonny’s, but pulled away when Jonny tried to meet them with his own.
“Quite a game you were playing out there,” he panted.
Jonny, startled by the switch of attitude, stared at him for a second. A sly grin appeared on his face before he replied, “Could say the same for you.”
“Are you even old enough to know about games like these anyway,” Colin hissed in his ear, then put his teeth to Jonny’s earlobe, pulling slightly and breathing hard in his ear.
Jonny shivered. He loved being controlled and, especially since this had come more or less unexpectedly, was enjoying it to the fullest.
“If you’re that convinced I’m underage, then why don’t you stop this now and walk out?” he suggested, sliding slender fingers through Colin’s belt loops, pulling him closer.
“Or are you the kind that prefers young, innocent, unspoilt boys?”
Colin stopped moving altogether. He brought his right hand to Jonny’s neck, his fingertips barely touching. Jonny arched into his touch. Slowly, he trailed up towards Jonny’s mouth, moving one finger over his full lips before tracing a cheekbone.
Looking at each other, the same want was reflecting in equally chocolate dark eyes, and a shiver ran down Colin’s spine. Sliding his palm around the back of his head, tangling fingers in silky black hair, he brought their mouths together and murmured against Jonny’s lips, “Nope. Just you.”
Their mouths opened simultaneously and tongues touched hesitantly. The small gesture of tenderness was quickly replaced by furious licking, biting and pulling. Colin was groping him shamelessly, rubbing their groins together, making Jonny moan in his mouth. The latter detached himself from Colin’s grip and stared at him wide-eyed.
“Is there a problem?” Colin asked casually, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not at all,” panted Jonny. “It’s just... I hadn’t seen it in you.”
“Well,” Colin shrugged, “you have that effect on me.” Not wasting another second, he put his lips to Jonny’s neck whilst sneaking under his hoodie and T-shirt, caressing then scratching the soft, warm skin underneath. When Jonny elicited another deep moan and finally started reciprocating, Colin felt bold enough to start fumbling with Jonny’s jeans. He undid the belt buckle and with one movement, pulled it out of the loops, throwing the piece of black leather on the bed.
Jonny, however, had other plans, and quickly flipped them both over, pushing Colin against the door. He pulled at Colin’s sweater and T-shirt and Colin lifted his arms to help him take them off. Running his hands over newly exposed skin, he started licking a trail down Colin’s heaving chest. Colin, taken by surprise, couldn’t do anything else but watch. And God, what a sight it was. Jonny on his knees in front of him, unzipping his trousers, fingers curling their way inside the waistband of his boxers.
“By the way, I’m not.”
Jonny looked up from under his fringe. Colin could’ve come right there and then. Managing to control himself, he asked, “Not what?”
Jonny released Colin's straining erection from the pinstriped boxers, shoving them down for better access.
“Not underage.”
Colin started replying that he couldn’t give a fuck anymore, but Jonny had already taken him in his mouth and he promptly forgot what else he was going to say. Fucking hell, that boy was good. Colin’s knees buckled involuntarily when the scraping of teeth on the underside of his cock sent shivers down his spine to his toes.
“Innocent,” he panted, “uns... unspoilt... my arse...” He could barely speak.
Jonny smiled, pulling away.
“Well, what about that?” he asked, and began groping Colin’s buttocks. Taking his cock back in his mouth, he let one finger slide down to Colin’s hole, massaging slowly. When he heard a loud moan, he added pressure.
Colin didn’t know what to do to keep from shouting. The shockwaves of pleasure he was receiving weren’t helping. He hadn’t dared dreaming about the experienced way Jonny was pleasuring him. At least not from his youthful, slightly shy appearances. But holy mother of Jesus, that Thom must’ve learned him a few tricks.
A pang of jealousy entered his mind again, and Colin looked down. Jonny, eyes closed, was fulfilling his task with devotion. It took Colin some self control to stroke his cheeks, nudging that beautiful face away from his pulsating cock.
“Wait,” he whispered, pulling Jonny up and kissing him feverishly whilst slowly pushing him towards the bed.
Part V
The moment Jonny’s calfs hit the side of the small single bed, his hoodie and T-shirt were already tossed to the floor. Both his and Colin’s trousers were half off, and they fell messily on the bed, Colin hovering above Jonny with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Somehow they managed to get out of their jeans, after a little trouble with Jonny’s black Doc Martens, simultaneously trying to touch and kiss every inch of skin available.
Suddenly, Colin halted. Jonny looked up at him, curious.
“I should lock the door.”
But before he got up, he planted a soft kiss on Jonny’s lips.
“You’re looking utterly angelic, you know that?”
Jonny blushed crimson, which made him even more cute.
Colin had already left the bed stark naked, turning off the main lights and locking the door, then proceeding to the record player.
“Don’t let that refrain you from anything,” Jonny replied casually from the bed.
“What?” asked Colin, grabbing a record.
“I said, don’t let...”
“I heard what you said, but what do you mean?”
Miles Davis was filling the air when Colin approached the bed already full with Jonny. Carefully placing his knees on the few square inches left on the mattress, he looked at Jonny, challenging.
“I was saying,” Jonny abruptly pulled Colin’s body to his, grinding their erections together, “that I might look naive, but I do have some experience when it comes to this,” he trailed his lips along Colin’s neck, quickly sank his teeth into it then sucked away the pain, “and that I trust you.”
Now Colin was the one shivering. The incredible power this boy was giving him, the enormous anticipation that was filling his blood with adrenaline, he couldn’t care less what exactly was the cause of it, but he knew exactly what to do about it.
“You really trust me?”
“Is there any reason I should not?”
Colin laughed breathlessly.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he answered, and took Jonny’s belt, that was laying behind him on the mattress.
“May I?” he asked politely, looking into Jonny’s eyes.
“Please,” the latter answered, obediently sticking out his wrists.
When Colin was done binding Jonny’s arms securely to the bedpost above his head, he took a moment to marvel at the sight. He wondered if Jonny had any idea how beautiful he was. All lean and lank, jutting bones, taut belly, dark eyes full of anticipation and desire. Not wasting another minute, he took the lube from the bedside table and coated his straining cock with a generous amount. Then he leaned over Jonny and faintly touched his lips with his own, so that Jonny had to lift his head to reciprocate. Too soon Colin trailed down towards his neck, eliciting a sigh from Jonny’s lips, or was that a gasp? When Colin moved his hips so that his cock was rubbing near Jonny’s opening, he heard the first real moan. The sound was so lovely he slowly did it again. Jonny’s hips were bucking and Colin quickly pressed them back onto the bed.
“You’ll have to show me some control, Jonny. It’s important that you don’t let yourself go. I promise you’ll be rewarded for your efforts,” Colin said with a low voice, before nibbling on a nipple. Jonny hissed, but managed to keep still.
“Good boy.”
Still working on the nipple, Colin slowly moved his finger towards Jonny’s opening, fingering the tight ring of muscles with a still slick finger. Jonny was now quivering under him, opening his legs farther, which made Colin smile. He was only just getting started. By the time a second finger was stretching Jonny, the boy was breathing deep and slowly, an attempt to relax and keep control. When Colin was satisfied, he pulled out all the way and positioned himself. Lips hovering over lips, he murmured a seductive “ready?”and a quick nod came as reply. Colin took both of Jonny’s legs and bent them for better access, softly stroking the boy’s inner thighs. With one strong hip movement he pushed in almost all the way, making Jonny moan out loud and pull on his restraints involuntarily, his eyes squeezed shut. But Colin knew it wasn’t from much pain.
“I knew you were ready,” he whispered in his ear.
He began easing in and out slowly, profoundly. Seeing Jonny doing everything he could not to move with him, trying to control the sounds he was emitting, made Colin try even harder to accomplish what he was aiming for. Which was pleasing Jonny the best way he could, making him forget about Thom and whoever else, making him remember this. Making him his.
Soon he was fucking Jonny with little effort, the latter breathing hard and swaying with every movement. His lips were forming a soundless moan, and Colin felt that it was time to let him make whatever delicious sounds he was holding back. With a skilled hip movement, he changed his angle just the slightest and started hitting that place.
Jonny saw stars. He couldn’t keep it to himself anymore and let out a scream. Colin pushed in again, and he screamed again.
“Oh my... ahhh, Jesus!” was all that came out, before a string of incoherent moaning and whimpering took over. It didn’t take long before Jonny started shaking, which was exactly what Colin was waiting for. Jonny tried to cross his legs behind Colin’s back, to push him more, but Colin quickly spread them apart again. He was the one in control. Jonny rolled his head to the side, pulling at the belt with his arms, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face. He was close, Colin could tell. With one last push, Jonny emitted a high-pitched whimper and shook all over. Colin stopped moving and waited. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t... Nope, nothing. Excellent. Colin gave Jonny a few seconds to catch his breath and then without warning pushed in again. Surprised, Jonny’s eyes flew open.
“W... what are you doing? Why didn’t I cum?” he asked, bewildered.
“You’ll see soon enough, darling.”
If it weren’t for a few years of experience, Colin would’ve never been able to pull it off. Knowing what to do was one thing, staying hard another. But it was incredibly important for this. Within a minute, Jonny was on the edge for the second time. His eyebrows were furrowed, he didn’t understand how this was possible, but soon he closed his eyes and let his second orgasm wash over him, moaning Colin’s name out loud. When it was over, Colin looked at him with a deviant gleam in his eyes.
“One more?”
Before waiting for an answer, Colin started moving again. This time he was slamming into Jonny, relaxing his pelvic muscle, not trying to hold back any longer. With his left hand he held onto Jonny’s hip, while his right encircled his straining erection. It was so sensitive by now that Jonny squirmed when he started stroking him. He knew it couldn’t last long anymore, and with a few quick movements Jonny cummed at last, with an intensity he had never experienced before. His contracting muscles tightened around Colin’s cock and he let go, orgasm washing over him in the most intense way. He collapsed on top of Jonny's sweaty chest, simply because there was no space left next to him, and shakingly undid the belt from Jonny’s now dark red wrists. Jonny, although utterly drained, found a last spark of energy to put his arms around the boy on top of him. With the sound of a faint jazz trumpet in their ears, they fell asleep swiftly.
Part VI
It took a few seconds for Colin to gain consciousness. With his eyes still closed he registered soft arms around him, holding him. And keeping him from falling out of the bed. It was dark outside, and the sheets were still damp. Flashes of earlier that night seeped into his brain and he had to shift a bit to make sure he wouldn't wake Jonny with a new erection. Carefully, he untangled himself from Jonny's arms, took the sheets at their feet and spread them out over the two of them.
At that exact moment, three miles away, a furious Thom climbed into his hotel bed, still cursing under his breath. He had no idea where Jonny was, and those wankers of bandmates hadn't exactly been of much help. Rational as he always was when angry, he had started searching for Jonny himself, stomping around the fields that were slowly running empty. Even now he still didn't really know why he'd done that. Neither why he was so angry. Not sparing the empty single bed next to his a second glance, he crawled under the covers and turned his body to the window. If he'd been very honest with himself, he would've realised it wasn't anger he felt, nor worriedness. It was an ugly, complicated mix of disappointment, self-doubt and, yes, longing.
Jonny woke up to the warm feeling of sun shining onto his face. The first thing he registered was weight. Something was lying on top of him. After a few seconds he felt breath tickling his bare chest.
It breathes.
He tried opening his eyes, but the strong light made his eyes water. He shifted a little and immediately felt it. The afterglow was still in his limbs, and the evident feeling around his arse assured him. Sex.
His eyes flew open by themselves and Jonny quickly turned his head to the shadows of the small room. Peeking at his chest he noticed dark, more or less long hair sprawled across it. The rest of the person was hidden under the covers, but Jonny knew enough.
Colin. Wasn't it? Yes, Colin.
It was easily the best sex he'd ever had. Granted, the only experience he had acquired was from one person, Thom. He'd never really been with anyone else. Hadn't felt the need to, either. But Thom was all demanding and dominant. It was always 75% about him and, if Jonny tried hard, 25% about him. This was different. Colin had been the dominant one, but had still made Jonny the focus of attention. It was an entire new way of looking at sex.
And, jesus, it was just plain good. If only Thom would –
Oh yeah. Thom.
Shit.
"Shit," Jonny said again, out loud this time. Colin grunted and shifted his head, the stubble scraping Jonny's nipple a little. He flinched and moved to sit upright. Colin's head stayed where it was, glued to Jonny's chest, only now he was sleeping upright. Well, not exactly sleeping.
Another grunt escaped from somewhere deep in Colin's throat.
"Would you mind lying back down, I find it rather impossible to sleep comfortably in a vertical position," he mumbled sleepily.
Jonny opened his mouth to say something, decided against it and fell back down onto the bed.
Colin had already fallen asleep again. Or so he thought, until he felt the tip of a wet tongue flicking his left nipple.
"No, no no, I should go." It sounded almost desperate.
Colin rolled his head so that his mouth could envelop the pink bud entirely, biting down on it softly, hardening it instantly.
Jonny tried to sit up again, but this time Colin pushed him back down.
"I'm not letting you go just yet, Jonathan."
Jonny pulled a face.
"Don't call me tha- ngggggh, stop it!" he hissed, not very convincingly.
"What's the matter, Jonathan? Liking this a little too much?"
Colin's hands were now helping his words for more effect. One was caressing his side, slowly travelling downwards to his hip, the other was holding up Colin’s own body while a damp mouth was moving over Jonny’s treasure trail, destination obvious.
Jonny sighed and covered his face with his hands, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist anyway.
______________________________________________________________________________
The first thing Thom did when he woke up that morning, was turn around. The bed next to his still hadn’t been touched. A nauseous feeling entered his stomach, one he quickly suppressed with anger. It was only fair to be mad at Jonny, wasn’t it? Trodding off without anyone knowing where he is, not even making use of the bed that was bloody paid for, leaving him alone- he was going to pay this time, Thom swore he was.
Jonny showed up right before checkout time. Strolling into the lobby with his hands in his pockets, head hung low. Thom lunged at him, roughly pulled him aside in a corner.
“What the fuck, Jonny? Where the hell have you been? Do you even know what time it is?”
Jonny was avoiding Thom’s piercing gaze, looking at the ground and over his shoulder, clenching his elbow with his hand.
“I’m... er-“
“It’s ten minutes before checkout, Jonathan. Ten. Where the fuck did you sleep? Did you really expect us to wait for you? Did you even consider maybe letting us know where you were trodding off to? You stupid- we might as well have booked a single room now! Do you realise what we could’ve bought with the money?”
Thom was moving closer as he spat out every single thought that entered his mind, stopping only when his index finger painfully poked Jonny’s chest, making the latter flinch and meet his gaze. At that very moment, Thom stopped talking. Eyes searching for nothing in particular, he moved his head closer, inhaling deeply. A look of disgust crept onto his face when he looked at Jonny again.
“You smell of sex.”
Thom kept staring, waiting until Jonny would confirm or deny the statement. Jonny was wise enough to keep his mouth shut, which Thom promptly took as a yes.
“You fucking slag.”
The slap came from nowhere. Despite the shock, Jonny moved quickly and pinned Thom’s arms to the wall behind him to stop him from doing it again. Cheek already reddening, eyes watering a little, he pressed his own forehead to Thom’s, talking quietly between his teeth.
“Do not do that again. Call me anything you want, but not that.”
Thom squirmed in his grasp but quickly realised he couldn’t get away. He settled for words.
“So it’s true then. God, Jonny, I didn’t know you were such a whore. You fucking ungrateful bastard, you-“
“That’s what it’s about then, isn’t it? It’s not about me. Not about him either. It’s about us. Isn’t it, Thom?” Jonny asked calmly.
“Who was he then? Tell me, who was it? I bet it was that Cambridge guy, I saw him eyeing you, don’t deny you didn’t notice, he was practically raping you with his eyes, was he any good? Tell me, Jonathan, did he make you cmmmmmbl”
The rest of Thom’s rant was drowned by Jonny’s lips on his. They pushed against each other, biting, scratching, pinching. It was the only thing they knew how to deal with. So when Thom roughly pushed Jonny into the storage room next to the elevator, Jonny didn’t stop him. This was easier than talking. Less painful, even with the bruises that were surely going to turn purple tomorrow.
Two minutes later, both were leaning against the wall next to each other, pulling up zippers and panting heavily. Thom didn’t even look at him, just opened the door and, right before slamming it shut, couldn’t resist.
“Whore.”
The fields surrounding the university campus were enlightened by several spots coming from the stage. The space in front of it was packed with people holding beers or snacks, available from the numerous stands surrounding the area. A loose, friendly atmosphere hung in the now slightly chilly air. It was the week before the Easter holidays, and thus time for the annual Cambridge mini-festival, which the Board of Students always organised and had lamely called Music for Students for Music. Luckily, only the posters and flyers kept using that name.
Of course Colin was there. He had a few friends within the Board and was asked to write a little piece for the university newspaper, what with his broad knowledge of music. Colin had cringed; the newspaper wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you wanted to have something to do with, let alone be a part of. But his love for music and writing had gotten the best of him and with a smile he had accepted the task, after emphasizing the fact that he’d be helping them out.
The lineup, he had to admit, was rather impressive. Not taking the opening acts into consideration. The festival would, naturally, start with two bands from Cambridge. Shameless self-promotion of a few geeks, probably, that’d surely keep dropping their picks. Why would they get the benefit of knowing people from the Board and he’d get the shitty jobs?
Realising the power he’d be having writing their reviews, Colin smirked inwardly. He walked around the stage, flashed the guard his pass and entered the backstage area. Looking for a quiet place to sit down, already coming up with some snarky comments, he accidentally bumped into someone. Startled, he looked up.
‘Someone’ appeared to be two people, to be correct. The first, a short guy with peroxide blond hair pointing in all directions, snorted audibly and walked on without a second glance. The second, however, froze and apologised quietly, asking if he was ok. If Colin would have been able to give him a proper look, he would’ve seen a lanky figure, dark-haired, all jutting bones and slenderness, a certain grace surrounding his gestures. But Colin could only stare into chocolate brown eyes, almost black in this absence of light, partly covered by a black fringe. When the boy opened his mouth again to repeat his question, Colin’s gaze dropped a few inches and rested on full lips. That was the moment where he felt the blush creeping up. He had to get away as soon as possible. Quickly assuring him that yes, he was fine, no problem, he noticed the lips slightly forming a smile before he turned around, practically running towards the trailer with toilets.
Colin dropped his notebook and pen on the sink before letting cold water fill his cupped hands. What the hell just happened? Splashing water onto his face to try and take the red away, he sighed, but it came out all desperate. He looked into the mirror. Same face as ever, except for the reddened cheekbones and worried frown. Thinking back to the other guy, the rude one, it struck him. It was a singer, he’d seen him on a picture. A picture of the main act. He had just bumped into On A Friday. Okay. So what about the other boy? Desperately repressing any further thoughts, he tried to think reasonably. He barely looked sixteen. Sounded older though. Could he be in the band as well? Was he a roadie, a friend? A boyfriend, maybe? Colin slapped himself inwardly and made his way towards the bar, deciding between either getting completely pissed tonight, or getting a fucking grip.
Part II
Thom was being a prick. Prick Thom was hard to handle. Even for Jonny. Thom had been going on and on about Cambridge people. How snobistic they were. How much they actually looked down on them. How they were all combed hair and smart talk in libraries and nerdy maths contests and their graduation would probably be the first party they’d go to.
“Thom, they picked us to be their main act.”
“Yeah, well I’d like to see who picked us, and the entire line-up, for that matter. Probably some friend of a friend who-“
“Good God, are you really supposed to be 21? Just give it up already, be glad we’ve got a show and some publicity -“
“And what kind is that? Headlining a Cambridge festival? People’ll start to think things, Jonny, they’ll associate us with them, they’ll think we owed them or something.” His tone was pure vomit.
Jonny just rolled his eyes.
“What?!” Thom spat.
“We’re on in ten minutes, don’t fuck up.” Jonny turned on his heels and left.
“Don’t bloody fuck up??” he repeated to the door, baffled.
Standing at the right edge of the stage, Colin was pretty much enjoying himself. The main act was giving everything they had, and while the lead singer was obviously in a bad mood, he played and sang along effortlessly. Well, the singer wasn’t exactly the one that was getting Colin’s attention anyway. He couldn’t stop gazing at that dark-haired guitarist in front of him, thrashing about on his Telecaster as if there was no tomorrow. Surprisingly, what came out were clean sounds, each played note deliberately chosen and each solo brilliantly blending with the music. And the way he was moving... The way he swished his long hair this way and that, momentarily revealing that beautiful face in an expression that made Colin’s knees grow weak. He had no idea what was going on, what his body was telling him; he only knew that he was enjoying it to the fullest.
Before Colin knew it, it was over. People were walking back towards the bar, leaving Colin standing there. He hadn’t written down a single word on his notepad. Suddenly a brave thought entered his mind. But Colin didn’t feel brave enough yet to carry out his plan. Making his way over to the bar for the required amount of bear, he was already scribbling furiously on his notepad.
The others were still changing clothes when Thom opened the door of their trailer, cigarette hanging down the corner of his mouth, snarling a “what?” to whoever had dared disturbing him.
“Eh, hello, I was wondering if you could spare a few minutes-“
“Spare a few minutes,” Thom mockingly repeated in his most posh accent. “Look, I don’t need this smart talk, just say what you want to say. And hurry up, ‘cause I need to take a piss.”
Colin understood, composed himself quickly, put on his sternest face and said, ”I need you for an interview.”
Thom, for a second taken aback by the sudden change of attitude, grinned, then rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Ten minutes.”
“I’ll be in trailer four.” And Colin was already walking away, not sparing Thom a second glance.
Colin, surprised with his own boldness, sat down at the table after having put a chair on the other side. Tapping his pen nervously on the wood, he reread the questions he had prepared for the nth time.
When the door finally opened, Colin was mortified to see that the guitarist – Jonny, if he had read correctly – had decided to come along. Thom sat down on the chair, obviously still in a mood, while Jonny was looking around the trailer, seemingly in search of something.
Dammit! thought Colin, and he quickly stood up, brushed some coats from a chair in the corner and placed it in front of Jonny.
“Thanks,” the latter repeated with a soft smile.
Colin felt his courage melting each second. He sat down on the opposite side, flashed a glance at his notebook, cleared his throat and started off.
Half an hour later, the tension had eased away slightly, and though Colin still refused to look Jonny in the eye directly, he had managed to get a few interesting answers from both of them. Thom had opened up and had talked a fair bit, though when Colin had asked them how they enjoyed being here, Jonny had quickly answered that it was lovely, glaring at Thom warningly. Suddenly, the door opened and Thom was asked for a picture.
Within five seconds, the door slammed shut again and Colin was trapped with Jonny opposite him, legs crossed, fingers entwined in his lap. One finger was drumming a strange off-beat rhythm.
Curious, Colin asked him about his taste in music.
It was bang on. Jonny’s face lit up, and before he knew it they were talking rather animatedly about the new Pixies album - which they both agreed wasn’t their best - the tragedy that was Ian Curtis and the breaking up of Talking Heads. Finally meeting someone who shared his favourite bands was a relief. He had almost forgot about his former bashfulness, when the door swung open and a familiar, clearly irritated voice shouted “Jonathan! We’re loading the van, mate! Come on!”
Rolling his eyes, Jonny let out a sigh and stood up. Not knowing what to do, Colin stood up as well, straightening his sweater. Suddenly, Jonny stuck out his hand. Colin hesitantly took it, and at that moment their eyes met. A flash of heat shot through Colin. Before he could react, a small smile formed on Jonny’s face and he shook his head, letting more hair fall over his eyes. Reluctantly, they let go. Colin just stood there, kicking himself inwardly to fucking say something. But Jonny was first.
“Bye... eh, what’s your name actually?”
“Colin.”
“Bye Colin.”
“Take care.” He had meant to say it in a cool way, but it came out all wrong and serious.
Jonny smiled and walked out the door, scratching his head.
Colin copied the gesture.
Part III
Thom had noticed. At least, he thought he had noticed. Sometimes Thom noticed too quickly, you see. But he was pretty sure now. He had noticed the way the interviewer was fidgeting, how his eyelashes kept flopping down whenever Jonny said something. He had noticed that Jonny had noticed. Jonny was clearly flattered and therefore less inhibited. Thom had smelled the tension in the room.
And he hated it. Thom hated it. Thom was quite a territorial person and he knew the effect Jonny had on certain people all too well. What Thom wanted from Jonny wasn’t exactly love or anything – that would be ridiculous – he just wanted his undivided attention. Which he had gotten ever since the boy had been allowed to join the band.
So when they were all standing backstage drinking a few more beers, not at all in a hurry to leave, Thom made sure he draped his arm around Jonny’s waist a little more than often, and when he felt Jonny melting into his touch, he calmed down a bit. Maybe it was his imagination after all.
Colin was talking to a girl from class, not at all registering what she was going on about. They were slowly walking through the backstage area when Colin spotted the On A Friday crew. His eyes found Jonny and took in the sight of Thom’s arm around his waist. Anger bolted through his thin frame, repressing disappointment vehemently. This was one of those ‘now or never’ moments. With a lame excuse he left his fellow student and made his way towards the group of people. Upon approaching, Jonny was the first to notice Colin and he quickly detached himself from Thom’s grip. A few glances were exchanged within seconds, and it seemed as if Jonny was quietly apologising. Colin couldn’t help but smile faintly, before stepping into the circle.
“I thought you guys had already left. Didn’t you say you were from Oxford?”
The last question was directed towards Thom, who startled.
“Eh, yeah.”
Seemingly finding back his role, he added an arrogant “What’s it to you?”
Colin smiled, pretending not to have noticed Thom’s snapping, and answered calmly, “It’s just that Oxford is a few hour ride from here, I was wondering if you were planning on driving all night.”
At this moment, Jonny dropped in.
“We’re staying in a hotel in the centre. Normally we can’t afford it, but headlining a festival does have its advantages cash-wise,” he laughed. Colin laughed as well. Thom thought he was about to throw up. When their conversation flipped to Magazine, he couldn’t help but interfere.
“Secondhand Daylight is way better.”
“What’s that all about, Thom? You’ve always proclaimed the sheer brilliance of Real Life!” replied Jonny, raising an eyebrow.
“Their later stuff is just better. Jackson leaving had a great deal to do with that.”
Colin jumped.
“Jackson was brilliant! They never again reached the level of Real Life because he left!”
“I’m going to have to agree with that, Thom,” Jonny added.
“Shut up, Jonny. You never even heard Magic, Murder and the Water,” Thom snapped.
“Weather,” Colin corrected.
“Whatever,” Thom sighed, rolling his eyes. I need to get out of here for the benefit of the atmosphere, he thought, leaving to get a few more beers.
Colin and Jonny watched Thom leaving. Jonny was frowning.
“Is he in a bad mood or is he always like that?” Colin dared asking.
Jonny sighed.
“Bad mood. No idea why though. He’s been like that ever since we arrived here.”
“I see. So, you’ve never heard Magic, Murder and the Weather, then?”
“Well, no. My sister traded Magazine for Joy Division after Secondhand Daylight. I didn’t complain, though,” Jonny added, smiling.
“I wouldn’t have either,” said Colin, clearly impressed. He started saying something else, then hesitated. Jonny looked at him, waiting patiently. After the easy talking of the past minutes, that look brought Colin right back to where he was before, complete with sweating palms and a blank mind. Now or never, the thought again.
“Maybe I could... I have the record, would you... I mean, my room is just across the field, I suppose you could give it a quick listen, it’s great,” he stuttered, pointing towards the dark Cambridge buildings.
Jonny’s mouth opened, stayed like that for a second, then shut again. He looked over his shoulder to where Thom had disappeared, then to the other band members.
Colin’s hope and bravery sank with every second. This was going wrong. Until he noticed a small smile upon the guitarist’s face.
“Sure,” Jonny nodded. He turned towards Phil and Ed, explaining that he would be gone for a while.
“You don’t have to wait up, I’ll find my way back to the hotel, it’s not that far.”
Phil and Ed, both more than a little intoxicated, didn’t seem to mind. They didn’t seem to register him very clearly either, but Jonny quietly ignored that fact.
Soon they were on their way down muddy paths towards the on-campus dorms, Colin trying to remember in what state he’d left his room earlier that day, Jonny thinking about how crazy he actually was, going home with a complete stranger. But was he? Throwing a quick glance at the boy next to him, he had that feeling again. The feeling like he’d known him his entire life. A familiar feeling entered his belly, and he thought of his early years with Thom. God, he had worshiped him. Crush would be a terrible euphemism. While Thom had made clear from the start that it wasn’t ever going to work out between them, that wouldn’t stop them from exploring each other to the fullest.
“So, you and Thom...” Colin broke the silence.
Oh hey, a mind reader.
“Yeah?”
“Eh, you and Thom, do you... get on well? I mean when he’s not in a bad mood,” he added with a grin whilst jumping over a particularly big puddle.
“Oh... er, yes, we’re best friends, actually. Tell each other everything and stuff. Yeah,” he answered, walking around the puddle.
“Best friends? As in...” Colin hesitated. He had to know.
Jonny answered quickly, “No no, not like that, no,” laughing nervously. He reconsidered and, smiling, added, “Well... not... entirely.”
Part IV
They had entered the building and were approaching the large staircase, but Colin stopped in his tracks. Jonny heard it and looked around.
“What?” he asked with a grin, scratching his head, sending strands of silky hair covering his face.
Colin looked back boldly, then answered “Nothing,” He grinned mischievously and scurried up the stairs. Jonny had to increase his pace to keep up. The first floor was deserted, and Colin quickly unlocked the door of his room. He then stuck out an arm invitingly, motioning for Jonny to come in.
Jonny didn’t even have time to register the inside of the room before he was slammed into the door. Colin was using his entire body to keep him there, holding his wrists in a tight grip against the door. He brought his lips close to Jonny’s, but pulled away when Jonny tried to meet them with his own.
“Quite a game you were playing out there,” he panted.
Jonny, startled by the switch of attitude, stared at him for a second. A sly grin appeared on his face before he replied, “Could say the same for you.”
“Are you even old enough to know about games like these anyway,” Colin hissed in his ear, then put his teeth to Jonny’s earlobe, pulling slightly and breathing hard in his ear.
Jonny shivered. He loved being controlled and, especially since this had come more or less unexpectedly, was enjoying it to the fullest.
“If you’re that convinced I’m underage, then why don’t you stop this now and walk out?” he suggested, sliding slender fingers through Colin’s belt loops, pulling him closer.
“Or are you the kind that prefers young, innocent, unspoilt boys?”
Colin stopped moving altogether. He brought his right hand to Jonny’s neck, his fingertips barely touching. Jonny arched into his touch. Slowly, he trailed up towards Jonny’s mouth, moving one finger over his full lips before tracing a cheekbone.
Looking at each other, the same want was reflecting in equally chocolate dark eyes, and a shiver ran down Colin’s spine. Sliding his palm around the back of his head, tangling fingers in silky black hair, he brought their mouths together and murmured against Jonny’s lips, “Nope. Just you.”
Their mouths opened simultaneously and tongues touched hesitantly. The small gesture of tenderness was quickly replaced by furious licking, biting and pulling. Colin was groping him shamelessly, rubbing their groins together, making Jonny moan in his mouth. The latter detached himself from Colin’s grip and stared at him wide-eyed.
“Is there a problem?” Colin asked casually, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not at all,” panted Jonny. “It’s just... I hadn’t seen it in you.”
“Well,” Colin shrugged, “you have that effect on me.” Not wasting another second, he put his lips to Jonny’s neck whilst sneaking under his hoodie and T-shirt, caressing then scratching the soft, warm skin underneath. When Jonny elicited another deep moan and finally started reciprocating, Colin felt bold enough to start fumbling with Jonny’s jeans. He undid the belt buckle and with one movement, pulled it out of the loops, throwing the piece of black leather on the bed.
Jonny, however, had other plans, and quickly flipped them both over, pushing Colin against the door. He pulled at Colin’s sweater and T-shirt and Colin lifted his arms to help him take them off. Running his hands over newly exposed skin, he started licking a trail down Colin’s heaving chest. Colin, taken by surprise, couldn’t do anything else but watch. And God, what a sight it was. Jonny on his knees in front of him, unzipping his trousers, fingers curling their way inside the waistband of his boxers.
“By the way, I’m not.”
Jonny looked up from under his fringe. Colin could’ve come right there and then. Managing to control himself, he asked, “Not what?”
Jonny released Colin's straining erection from the pinstriped boxers, shoving them down for better access.
“Not underage.”
Colin started replying that he couldn’t give a fuck anymore, but Jonny had already taken him in his mouth and he promptly forgot what else he was going to say. Fucking hell, that boy was good. Colin’s knees buckled involuntarily when the scraping of teeth on the underside of his cock sent shivers down his spine to his toes.
“Innocent,” he panted, “uns... unspoilt... my arse...” He could barely speak.
Jonny smiled, pulling away.
“Well, what about that?” he asked, and began groping Colin’s buttocks. Taking his cock back in his mouth, he let one finger slide down to Colin’s hole, massaging slowly. When he heard a loud moan, he added pressure.
Colin didn’t know what to do to keep from shouting. The shockwaves of pleasure he was receiving weren’t helping. He hadn’t dared dreaming about the experienced way Jonny was pleasuring him. At least not from his youthful, slightly shy appearances. But holy mother of Jesus, that Thom must’ve learned him a few tricks.
A pang of jealousy entered his mind again, and Colin looked down. Jonny, eyes closed, was fulfilling his task with devotion. It took Colin some self control to stroke his cheeks, nudging that beautiful face away from his pulsating cock.
“Wait,” he whispered, pulling Jonny up and kissing him feverishly whilst slowly pushing him towards the bed.
Part V
The moment Jonny’s calfs hit the side of the small single bed, his hoodie and T-shirt were already tossed to the floor. Both his and Colin’s trousers were half off, and they fell messily on the bed, Colin hovering above Jonny with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Somehow they managed to get out of their jeans, after a little trouble with Jonny’s black Doc Martens, simultaneously trying to touch and kiss every inch of skin available.
Suddenly, Colin halted. Jonny looked up at him, curious.
“I should lock the door.”
But before he got up, he planted a soft kiss on Jonny’s lips.
“You’re looking utterly angelic, you know that?”
Jonny blushed crimson, which made him even more cute.
Colin had already left the bed stark naked, turning off the main lights and locking the door, then proceeding to the record player.
“Don’t let that refrain you from anything,” Jonny replied casually from the bed.
“What?” asked Colin, grabbing a record.
“I said, don’t let...”
“I heard what you said, but what do you mean?”
Miles Davis was filling the air when Colin approached the bed already full with Jonny. Carefully placing his knees on the few square inches left on the mattress, he looked at Jonny, challenging.
“I was saying,” Jonny abruptly pulled Colin’s body to his, grinding their erections together, “that I might look naive, but I do have some experience when it comes to this,” he trailed his lips along Colin’s neck, quickly sank his teeth into it then sucked away the pain, “and that I trust you.”
Now Colin was the one shivering. The incredible power this boy was giving him, the enormous anticipation that was filling his blood with adrenaline, he couldn’t care less what exactly was the cause of it, but he knew exactly what to do about it.
“You really trust me?”
“Is there any reason I should not?”
Colin laughed breathlessly.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he answered, and took Jonny’s belt, that was laying behind him on the mattress.
“May I?” he asked politely, looking into Jonny’s eyes.
“Please,” the latter answered, obediently sticking out his wrists.
When Colin was done binding Jonny’s arms securely to the bedpost above his head, he took a moment to marvel at the sight. He wondered if Jonny had any idea how beautiful he was. All lean and lank, jutting bones, taut belly, dark eyes full of anticipation and desire. Not wasting another minute, he took the lube from the bedside table and coated his straining cock with a generous amount. Then he leaned over Jonny and faintly touched his lips with his own, so that Jonny had to lift his head to reciprocate. Too soon Colin trailed down towards his neck, eliciting a sigh from Jonny’s lips, or was that a gasp? When Colin moved his hips so that his cock was rubbing near Jonny’s opening, he heard the first real moan. The sound was so lovely he slowly did it again. Jonny’s hips were bucking and Colin quickly pressed them back onto the bed.
“You’ll have to show me some control, Jonny. It’s important that you don’t let yourself go. I promise you’ll be rewarded for your efforts,” Colin said with a low voice, before nibbling on a nipple. Jonny hissed, but managed to keep still.
“Good boy.”
Still working on the nipple, Colin slowly moved his finger towards Jonny’s opening, fingering the tight ring of muscles with a still slick finger. Jonny was now quivering under him, opening his legs farther, which made Colin smile. He was only just getting started. By the time a second finger was stretching Jonny, the boy was breathing deep and slowly, an attempt to relax and keep control. When Colin was satisfied, he pulled out all the way and positioned himself. Lips hovering over lips, he murmured a seductive “ready?”and a quick nod came as reply. Colin took both of Jonny’s legs and bent them for better access, softly stroking the boy’s inner thighs. With one strong hip movement he pushed in almost all the way, making Jonny moan out loud and pull on his restraints involuntarily, his eyes squeezed shut. But Colin knew it wasn’t from much pain.
“I knew you were ready,” he whispered in his ear.
He began easing in and out slowly, profoundly. Seeing Jonny doing everything he could not to move with him, trying to control the sounds he was emitting, made Colin try even harder to accomplish what he was aiming for. Which was pleasing Jonny the best way he could, making him forget about Thom and whoever else, making him remember this. Making him his.
Soon he was fucking Jonny with little effort, the latter breathing hard and swaying with every movement. His lips were forming a soundless moan, and Colin felt that it was time to let him make whatever delicious sounds he was holding back. With a skilled hip movement, he changed his angle just the slightest and started hitting that place.
Jonny saw stars. He couldn’t keep it to himself anymore and let out a scream. Colin pushed in again, and he screamed again.
“Oh my... ahhh, Jesus!” was all that came out, before a string of incoherent moaning and whimpering took over. It didn’t take long before Jonny started shaking, which was exactly what Colin was waiting for. Jonny tried to cross his legs behind Colin’s back, to push him more, but Colin quickly spread them apart again. He was the one in control. Jonny rolled his head to the side, pulling at the belt with his arms, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face. He was close, Colin could tell. With one last push, Jonny emitted a high-pitched whimper and shook all over. Colin stopped moving and waited. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t... Nope, nothing. Excellent. Colin gave Jonny a few seconds to catch his breath and then without warning pushed in again. Surprised, Jonny’s eyes flew open.
“W... what are you doing? Why didn’t I cum?” he asked, bewildered.
“You’ll see soon enough, darling.”
If it weren’t for a few years of experience, Colin would’ve never been able to pull it off. Knowing what to do was one thing, staying hard another. But it was incredibly important for this. Within a minute, Jonny was on the edge for the second time. His eyebrows were furrowed, he didn’t understand how this was possible, but soon he closed his eyes and let his second orgasm wash over him, moaning Colin’s name out loud. When it was over, Colin looked at him with a deviant gleam in his eyes.
“One more?”
Before waiting for an answer, Colin started moving again. This time he was slamming into Jonny, relaxing his pelvic muscle, not trying to hold back any longer. With his left hand he held onto Jonny’s hip, while his right encircled his straining erection. It was so sensitive by now that Jonny squirmed when he started stroking him. He knew it couldn’t last long anymore, and with a few quick movements Jonny cummed at last, with an intensity he had never experienced before. His contracting muscles tightened around Colin’s cock and he let go, orgasm washing over him in the most intense way. He collapsed on top of Jonny's sweaty chest, simply because there was no space left next to him, and shakingly undid the belt from Jonny’s now dark red wrists. Jonny, although utterly drained, found a last spark of energy to put his arms around the boy on top of him. With the sound of a faint jazz trumpet in their ears, they fell asleep swiftly.
Part VI
It took a few seconds for Colin to gain consciousness. With his eyes still closed he registered soft arms around him, holding him. And keeping him from falling out of the bed. It was dark outside, and the sheets were still damp. Flashes of earlier that night seeped into his brain and he had to shift a bit to make sure he wouldn't wake Jonny with a new erection. Carefully, he untangled himself from Jonny's arms, took the sheets at their feet and spread them out over the two of them.
At that exact moment, three miles away, a furious Thom climbed into his hotel bed, still cursing under his breath. He had no idea where Jonny was, and those wankers of bandmates hadn't exactly been of much help. Rational as he always was when angry, he had started searching for Jonny himself, stomping around the fields that were slowly running empty. Even now he still didn't really know why he'd done that. Neither why he was so angry. Not sparing the empty single bed next to his a second glance, he crawled under the covers and turned his body to the window. If he'd been very honest with himself, he would've realised it wasn't anger he felt, nor worriedness. It was an ugly, complicated mix of disappointment, self-doubt and, yes, longing.
Jonny woke up to the warm feeling of sun shining onto his face. The first thing he registered was weight. Something was lying on top of him. After a few seconds he felt breath tickling his bare chest.
It breathes.
He tried opening his eyes, but the strong light made his eyes water. He shifted a little and immediately felt it. The afterglow was still in his limbs, and the evident feeling around his arse assured him. Sex.
His eyes flew open by themselves and Jonny quickly turned his head to the shadows of the small room. Peeking at his chest he noticed dark, more or less long hair sprawled across it. The rest of the person was hidden under the covers, but Jonny knew enough.
Colin. Wasn't it? Yes, Colin.
It was easily the best sex he'd ever had. Granted, the only experience he had acquired was from one person, Thom. He'd never really been with anyone else. Hadn't felt the need to, either. But Thom was all demanding and dominant. It was always 75% about him and, if Jonny tried hard, 25% about him. This was different. Colin had been the dominant one, but had still made Jonny the focus of attention. It was an entire new way of looking at sex.
And, jesus, it was just plain good. If only Thom would –
Oh yeah. Thom.
Shit.
"Shit," Jonny said again, out loud this time. Colin grunted and shifted his head, the stubble scraping Jonny's nipple a little. He flinched and moved to sit upright. Colin's head stayed where it was, glued to Jonny's chest, only now he was sleeping upright. Well, not exactly sleeping.
Another grunt escaped from somewhere deep in Colin's throat.
"Would you mind lying back down, I find it rather impossible to sleep comfortably in a vertical position," he mumbled sleepily.
Jonny opened his mouth to say something, decided against it and fell back down onto the bed.
Colin had already fallen asleep again. Or so he thought, until he felt the tip of a wet tongue flicking his left nipple.
"No, no no, I should go." It sounded almost desperate.
Colin rolled his head so that his mouth could envelop the pink bud entirely, biting down on it softly, hardening it instantly.
Jonny tried to sit up again, but this time Colin pushed him back down.
"I'm not letting you go just yet, Jonathan."
Jonny pulled a face.
"Don't call me tha- ngggggh, stop it!" he hissed, not very convincingly.
"What's the matter, Jonathan? Liking this a little too much?"
Colin's hands were now helping his words for more effect. One was caressing his side, slowly travelling downwards to his hip, the other was holding up Colin’s own body while a damp mouth was moving over Jonny’s treasure trail, destination obvious.
Jonny sighed and covered his face with his hands, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist anyway.
______________________________________________________________________________
The first thing Thom did when he woke up that morning, was turn around. The bed next to his still hadn’t been touched. A nauseous feeling entered his stomach, one he quickly suppressed with anger. It was only fair to be mad at Jonny, wasn’t it? Trodding off without anyone knowing where he is, not even making use of the bed that was bloody paid for, leaving him alone- he was going to pay this time, Thom swore he was.
Jonny showed up right before checkout time. Strolling into the lobby with his hands in his pockets, head hung low. Thom lunged at him, roughly pulled him aside in a corner.
“What the fuck, Jonny? Where the hell have you been? Do you even know what time it is?”
Jonny was avoiding Thom’s piercing gaze, looking at the ground and over his shoulder, clenching his elbow with his hand.
“I’m... er-“
“It’s ten minutes before checkout, Jonathan. Ten. Where the fuck did you sleep? Did you really expect us to wait for you? Did you even consider maybe letting us know where you were trodding off to? You stupid- we might as well have booked a single room now! Do you realise what we could’ve bought with the money?”
Thom was moving closer as he spat out every single thought that entered his mind, stopping only when his index finger painfully poked Jonny’s chest, making the latter flinch and meet his gaze. At that very moment, Thom stopped talking. Eyes searching for nothing in particular, he moved his head closer, inhaling deeply. A look of disgust crept onto his face when he looked at Jonny again.
“You smell of sex.”
Thom kept staring, waiting until Jonny would confirm or deny the statement. Jonny was wise enough to keep his mouth shut, which Thom promptly took as a yes.
“You fucking slag.”
The slap came from nowhere. Despite the shock, Jonny moved quickly and pinned Thom’s arms to the wall behind him to stop him from doing it again. Cheek already reddening, eyes watering a little, he pressed his own forehead to Thom’s, talking quietly between his teeth.
“Do not do that again. Call me anything you want, but not that.”
Thom squirmed in his grasp but quickly realised he couldn’t get away. He settled for words.
“So it’s true then. God, Jonny, I didn’t know you were such a whore. You fucking ungrateful bastard, you-“
“That’s what it’s about then, isn’t it? It’s not about me. Not about him either. It’s about us. Isn’t it, Thom?” Jonny asked calmly.
“Who was he then? Tell me, who was it? I bet it was that Cambridge guy, I saw him eyeing you, don’t deny you didn’t notice, he was practically raping you with his eyes, was he any good? Tell me, Jonathan, did he make you cmmmmmbl”
The rest of Thom’s rant was drowned by Jonny’s lips on his. They pushed against each other, biting, scratching, pinching. It was the only thing they knew how to deal with. So when Thom roughly pushed Jonny into the storage room next to the elevator, Jonny didn’t stop him. This was easier than talking. Less painful, even with the bruises that were surely going to turn purple tomorrow.
Two minutes later, both were leaning against the wall next to each other, pulling up zippers and panting heavily. Thom didn’t even look at him, just opened the door and, right before slamming it shut, couldn’t resist.
“Whore.”
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Sprained Ligament
The first part of-
Sprained Ligament a.k.a. The Get Well Soon Cake for Kora.
Sprained Ligament a.k.a. The Get Well Soon Cake for Kora.
“I always thought you’d injure yourself during a concert or something, not like this.”
Thom glared at Ed.
“What? I’m just saying, with all of your crazy dancing and such, I always thought…”
“Well don’t! Ed, just don’t think, please, stop thinking right now!!”
Thom might have had a good reason to be cranky as this appeared to have not been one of his best days.
He woke up with a terrible morning erection that caused him to absent-mindedly rub himself against the man next to him, which, apparently, wasn’t very much in the mood for that sort of stuff and quite hated it when Thom woke him up before time by grinding his morning erection into his lower back.
So Thom and his morning erection got ignored.
“Jooooo-honnnyyyyy…” Thom singsang into Jonny’s hair.
“It’s Jonny…Jonny, no H.” Jonny mumbled into his pillow.
“Oh come on Jon, I’m dying here…Help me…” Thom whined into Jonny’s hair.
“You need help with your morning erection?” Jonny asked into his pillow.
“Yes!” Thom smiled into Jonny’s hair.
“Naked Phil. Your parents doing it. People coming over to thank you for writing Karma Police and changing their lives…” Jonny yawned into his pillow.
“Alright alright, shut up, you killed it!” Thom rolled onto his back, one hand over his sleepy eyes and the other one down his boxers, rearranging what needed to be rearranged.
Later that day, Thom found himself over a toilet bowl, throwing up his guts. Which was funny, because he hasn’t even been drinking, and he was still throwing up his guts. Which was funny, because it wasn’t really funny at all.
Jonny came into the room with a glass of water. “It must have been the sushi. I knew something was wrong with it.”
Thom coughed. “So why did you let me eat it?!”
“I told you I thought there was something wrong with it.”
“But I kept eating!”
“Well how is that my fault then?”
“You should have…Oh just, give me that…”
Jonny sat on the cold tile floor next to Thom and handed him the glass, watching him as he gulped the water down his throat.
“So do you wanna go home?”
“No, no, we’re almost done here. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I feel a lot better now.”
Later that evening, Thom found himself on the floor again, staring at a dustbunny while his friends laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
Jonny was the first one to put down his guitar and go over to Thom, still laughing. “Are you alright?”
“No.”
Thom heard the others exchanging their points of view of his fall. “Yes!” He heard Ed’s most cheerful tone, “And then, the cord was around his foot and I could see it happen you know? Like, in slow motion?”
“Come on.” He felt Jonny’s hands on him. Well, at least now he’ll touch him.
“Oh but it was his own cord now wasn’t it??”
“My foot, it hurts.”
“Yes! Did you see his expression as he fell?!”
“Oh?”
“Oh god yes! It was like, like this!”
“Yeah, it really huts.”
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
“Lemme see. Oh, that doesn’t look so good.”
Later that night, Thom found himself on a hospital bed, waiting patiently to go home and put an end to this nightmare, also known as Tuesday.
“I’m only saying, Thom,”
“Are you still here?!”
Ed looked a bit hurt. “Well they left me here to keep you company, you don’t have to be such a—“
“Oh look! Greenwoods! Can we please get the fuck out of here now?!”
Colin and Jonny entered the room, all cheerful and brotherly. Thom rolled his eyes.
“Well, apparently, Thomas, you’ve managed to sprain a ligament in your foot with your own guitar cord. Congratulations.” Colin sat next to Ed and they both had that smirk on their faces.
Thom kept glaring. “Do ya’ll really hate me that much? Am I really that much of a prick?”
“Aw, I don’t hate you, Thom-Thom.” Jonny sat next to him, rubbing his nose against Thom’s shoulder.
“We don’t hate you either, Thom-Thom, it was just hilarious. You’ll appreciate it one day when you’re…less bitchy.”
Thom raised a pair of fingers in Colin’s direction and jumped off the bed. “I’m out of here, fuck all of you, OUH!”
“Thom! The doctor said you need to let your foot rest for at least a week!”
“Yeah, Jonny, good luck with him, we’ll come visit.”
“Oh Christ, that hurts, fuck you Ed, AAAOUHHH!”
And finally, Thom found himself back in bed, one of his legs raised on a pillow and wrapped in a bandage. He groaned.
“Could we please, please, pleeaase, go to sleep now?”
“I don’t think so, Thommy.”
“What?”
Jonny’s hand was on Thom’s chest all of a sudden. On his chest and under his shirt. Under his shirt and on his skin. On his skin and around his nipple—
“What are doing?!”
Jonny was licking his way up Thom’s neck.
“No, no no no, no Jonny, NO!”
Jonny just started nibbling on Thom’s earlobe.
“Jonny! I said…Stop that…”
Jonny was huffing hot air into Thom’s ear in a low groan.
“I’m tired…”
Jonny was whispering. “But, you see, I’ve been thinking…”
“What.”
Jonny was playing with his fingers around Thom’s nipple. “You know how, the doctor said you’re not allowed to move for a couple of days?”
“He did not say that Jonny.”
Jonny was lowering his hand down Thom’s torso. “So, I’ve been thinking…”
“Jonny he did not say that! He said I shouldn’t move my foot…”
Jonny started playing with the rubber of Thom’s waistband. “Since you can’t move, I’ll have to do everything by myself…”
“Oh.”
Jonny’s hand followed one of Thom’s hipbones down and under his boxers. “And that turned me on.”
“It…Did?”
Jonny’s fingers almost touched the tip of Thom’s hardening skin. “Yes, ‘cause you never let me do everything by myself. You’re too hyperactive for that.”
“Oh.”
Jonny’s hand withdrew altogether. “But if you’re tired…”
“I’m not tired.”
“You have to promise to let me do whatever I want.”
“I…I promise.”
Jonny jumped off the bed and opened the closet. “Great!”
“What are you doing?”
Jonny was searching for something. Then he found it and Thom started regretting he ever even woke up this morning.
“Is that…”
“Oh, remember your little, tie era, Thom? It was hot, I don’t know why you ever stopped.”
“I…I turned 28…”
“Well, I miss your tie era Thom.”
“What are you planning to…”
“Uh, don’t worry, I won’t make you wear it, that would be silly.”
“So, what…Oh…OH! No Jonny, no fucking way!”
Jonny stopped trying to wrap the tie around Thom’s head and above his eyes. “Thom, you promised.”
“Jesus.” Thom raised his head and let Jonny block his vision with a red tie that had black and yellow stripes on it. It was ridiculous, and he hated it, but he was hoping he’ll just be able to take it off once Jonny is busy with---
“What’s THAT?!”
“Handcuffs.”
“Oh, oh, handcuffs, oh, alright then, handcuffs, WHY DO YOU HAVE HANDCUFFS?!”
“We bought them together Thom-Thom.”
“We did not!”
“In Amsterdam.”
“I was high! That doesn’t count, are you seriously gonna…oh god…”
That’s how Thom found himself blindfolded and handcuffed to his own bed. He felt like he was taking part in a very bad and a very kinky porn movie.
“Since when are you into that kind of stuff? Did Colin tell you to do that? Are you taking pictures of me now?”
“Shhh, Thom, You promised.”
“But why do you even need me handcuffed to the bed? I mean, what are you…”
“Thom, don’t make me gag you as well.”
“You should be taking care of me now, you know, not using your twisted mind to molest me.
…
…
…
…Jonny?”
The room was very silent.
“Jo…Jonny? Are you here?”
The room was still very silent.
“This isn’t funny, Jon. I swear, if you’re pointing a video camera at me right now, I swear Jonny, I’m gonna—“
And then Thom felt something almost touching his bare chest, only for a swift moment before it was gone. It was smooth and soft and when it touched his skin it sent a light shiver across his it.
Thom had absolutely no idea what it was, but he wanted to feel it again.
And there it was- this time on his thigh, running down almost to his knee in a quick movement, not long enough to realize what it was.
Soft, what could be so soft?
The next time was on Thom’s forehead and he could smell Jonny, feel his weight on the mattress.
Before Thom knew it he was busy trying to guess the next spot where the tender sensation will appear, his entire body turning into a game field, all of his sensed maxed in the effort.
Of course he failed every single time, but he didn’t really care because the touch of whatever it was got longer and more concrete every time it reappeared and felt better and more pleasuring with every stroke.
Thom was lost, addicted to the little trails of Goosebumps that were left in the different areas of his body by the amazing feeling of softness that he hadn’t even realized he already knew, quite for certain, what it was.
Or that it just didn’t matter once Thom gave himself completely to it, wanting more, needing more and everywhere and as soon as possible, now would be great.
Hair.
It was Jonny’s hair, carefully caressing his skin between two random points, making its course slowly from his neck to his collar bone, from his elbow to his wrist, and then, after his boxers have been carefully removed, from his navel to his swollen cock, over his now ridiculously stretched skin, causing his back to arch and his breath to hitch and his wrists to twist in their metal prisons.
He wanted his fingers in that hair more than anything right now, just to dive them into this black silk and drown in there forever. But, Jesus, he couldn’t.
“MmmmmJooonnyyyyyy….” Thom used his most whiny voice, hoping to make Jonny release him from the handcuffs and let his do as he wished.
Thom forgot about his wishes completely as soon as he felt the warm, damp touch of Jonny’s tongue on his inner thigh, the sudden sensation of anything that wasn’t Jonny’s hair on his skin causing him to sigh in pleasure.
Thom’s day was getting a hell lot better all of a sudden.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
058 Dinner
Thom has tied me down on the bed.
My wrists are tightly secured with climbing rope. The thin kind, with pretty colours. I remember the day we bought it, at that large sports store outside of town. Thom had been bringing it up for weeks. Saying that silk ties weren’t really doing the trick, because they kept slipping when he squirmed, and then he could easily escape if he wanted to. That’s right, it was Thom who had been the one tied down. It wasn’t really my thing, and Thom hadn’t complained.
Until now.
It’s afternoon. The curtains are open, revealing the neighbours’ bathroom window. No, revealing me to the neighbours. An older couple, friendly, but in a cold, formal way, and behind that façade still very much disgusted with us and everyone else thinking that same sex relationships aren’t a sick, twisted sin. If one of them would discover me lying here like this, they’d call the police on us, no doubt. Thank God Thom at least put my boxers back on.
It’s been two hours and thirteen minutes since he left me here. My wrists are burning, the blood hardly able to make its way to my hands. He sure knows how to tie knots. Every time I try to loosen them, they only tighten more. That rock climbing camp he did as a kid sure proved useful. I try turning myself around, but when my stomach reaches the mattress I hiss from the pain my wrists are causing. I turn back and sigh.
It had started out rather good, though. Sleeping in, Thom bringing me tea to bed for a change, both of us just enjoying the peace and quiet of a Saturday morning. Noon, actually. And enjoying each other. I will never get tired of that, I know that by now. Ever. Even if I had to swear to never fuck him again, forever be the bottom, I’d do it with a smile. He’s good. The memory of this morning alone could be enough to wake up certain bodyparts.
I jerk my head towards the movement I notice at the door from the corner of my eye.
A smirking Thom is standing in the doorway. He’s holding something I can’t see, but when I lift my head from the pillow, he tucks his hand behind his back.
“How are we doing, Jonjon?” he asks casually.
I close my eyes and count to ten to keep from thrashing about.
“It’s nearly 3 PM, you know. You might want to consider getting out of bed, you lazy bum. The weather’s beautiful.”
My leg jerks involuntarily. Breathe, Jonny. Zen. Om. Yin Yang. Whatever.
“Thom. You’ll have to untie me eventually, there’s no way you’re going to cook that dinner for your parents on your own. You mess up cooking bloody potatoes.”
The smirk doesn’t leave his face. It gets bigger, ever.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve got everything under control. I’ve been doing some grocery shopping on my own. And lookie what I found. 50 cents off!”
He holds the can of whipped cream up for me to see. I roll my eyes.
“How unbelievably cheesy of you,” I snort.
The smile fading a bit, he walks towards the bed, crawls to the middle on hands and knees and straddles me, pinning my legs down.
“You know, I don’t really care about your opinion. I can do what I want with you. And right now, I want...”
He pretends to think deeply for a few seconds, then shakes the can, making the bed wiggle. The friction of our hips together is stirring things I’d rather keep down at the moment. I’m in the middle of picturing the neighbours g-string clad on the beach, when whipped cream is being squirted into my nostrils. I’m assuming he was going for the upper lip, when he starts covering my chin with more of the white stuff.
When he’s done, he sits back, evaluating his work.
“What,” I mumble, “you’re getting off on Santa?”
He lets out a high-pitched ha!, before adding, “Getting off is not my goal right now, Jonjon,” he pats me on the stomach, then keeps rubbing lightly, “but I might as well enjoy the moment.”
He bends down, pressing warm denim into my crotch and placing his hands next to my armpits, and sticks out his tongue. I don’t even feel it at first, the layer’s that thick. When he gets to my chin, it starts getting messy. I can feel lukewarm cream slowly sliding down my neck. Before it stains the mattress though, he swoops it up. I throw my head back; despite wanting to keep a stubborn face, I can’t help but enjoy this. He notices and pushes his hips down slightly. I swallow the gasp I was about to emit. Whilst licking my upper lip clean, he does it again, and I quickly lift my head and scoop up some whipped cream from his tongue before he can protest.
“Sneaky,” he says amusedly, and pinches my nipple. I grin, but don’t move an inch.
“Suit yourself.” Thom gets up and leaves the room haughtily.
“At least close the curtains?” I yell after him.
I think I dozed off for a few minutes because the sun is now fully concentrating on the bedroom window. I look at the alarm clock and am surprised to see almost an hour having passed since I last checked. 5:24 PM. Thom’s parents are arriving at seven. We need to get started on the dinner, and the toilet hasn’t been cleaned yet. It wasn’t my turn this week, and I’m not taking his again. He’s rubbish when it comes to household. I’m second worst, really, but two and a half years of trying to make the best of it have taught me a few things about cleaning, cooking and doing laundry. Thom, on the other hand, doesn’t learn from his mistakes. He keeps on putting jumpers in the dryer, cooking pasta until it’s mush and he never. Ever. Changes an empty toilet roll. At least I hope he’s currently proving himself responsible downstairs. I doubt it.
It’s getting hot in here. The sun is going down and stretching over the blanket, over my legs. Soon I’ll be drenched in rays and, consequentially, sweat. I’m losing my patience now. If he isn’t back in five minutes... No, I will not call him. But the dinner... If I don’t get downstairs now, we won’t get it finished in time, and I can picture my mother-in-law’s Face of Disapproval all too vividly.
Just when I feel I can’t wait any longer, I hear footsteps on the stairs.
“Thom, damn it, stop playing games! We need to get moving, they’ll be here in an hour!” I raise my voice, trying to get him to reasoning.
“Calm down, Jonny; as I said, everything is under control.”
He moves to sit down beside me with a tranquility that makes me want to chew my nails.
“Come on, Thommy, I’ve been here long enough, don’t you think? It’s getting too hot in here, I need a shower and I haven’t ironed that shirt yet, and have you turned on the oven for the peppers, ‘cause-“
“Shhhh.” Thom puts a finger on my lips and blinks calmly.
“You’re so sexy when you’re frustrated,” he coos in my ear, whilst running a hand over my thigh.
“Is that why you tied me up? I thought you’d had your dose of Jonny frustration last week when you broke that tile at the fireplace,” I state coldly.
“Jesus, Jonny, you sound like a married couple.”
“It takes two to get that effect, you know,” I bite back, but my voice is quivering because the hand has now moved to my inner thigh and the fingers are making the slightest circling movements towards my crotch, just enough to not tickle, not enough to satisfy. Well, what he lacks in household knowledge, he does more than make up in bed.
No, no no. Focus, Jonny. Dinner. Parents-in-law. Holy fuck we’re screwed.
“Thom, I’m ordering you to untie me. Now. We have guests, for christ’s sake. Your parents. Your mother. You won’t be able to do anything wrong, it’s me who always gets the blame. Besides, I can’t feel my hands anymore. I don’t deserve this,” I add miserably.
Thom nods.
“You’re right, you don’t deserve this. I’ll open a window.”
I make a grumbling, incoherent noise out of sheer frustration and powerlessness.
“Ooh, do that again.”
“Fuck you. Hey, wait, hey! The curtains! Thom!”
I can’t believe he just did that. I am now lying on my bed, hands tied to the bedposts, in my underwear, the window in front of me wide open, revealing me to the neighbours’ bathroom in all glory. I hope for them they’re not planning on taking a shower at six in the evening.
Part 2
I smell something. Could it be... is he really cooking that dinner all by himself? He doesn’t know how to season fucking spaghetti, let alone roasted peppers with plums and cherry tomatoes. He’s going to ruin the entire dinner. Fuck, I knew it. What is he trying to prove, though? We’ve developed our little division of tasks over the two years and a half we’ve lived here (well, one and a half, if you include the tour), and it works. Most of the time. Why this then? Is he unsatisfied with how things are going? He could’ve just told me instead of testing me like this. Fuck, my wrists hurt.
6:35 PM. That’s it. We’re done. I’ll be too late nevertheless. Not enough time to shower, iron and put on clothes, check the toilet (I bet he didn’t even remember), call a caterer to make up for the disaster in the oven... fuck, I have to make sure I won’t reveal an inch of my wrists. They must look horrible by now. Long sleeved shirt, then. What am I even thinking? It’s too late.
Part 3
I hear something. Thom’s climbing the stairs. What, now he’s coming to save me? It’s bloody 5 minutes to seven. I hear footsteps on the landing, then stopping. Something is being put on the ground. It’s clunking. Sounds heavy. Thom is entering the bedroom now, that same smirk from before smeared across his face. I look away, I’m too angry to react at this moment.
“Jonny.”
He says it with a certain... lecturing tone. As if he knows it all better. But softer, mixed with pity. I can hear the smile in his voice.
And then it hits me. The phone call this morning. It must’ve been to cancel the dinner. Must’ve been. He’d never... Oh, the fucker. He’s going to pay for this. I look up at him.
“They cancelled, then.” I say it calmly. I am calm. I’m calm, because I know I’m going to make him pay big time.
He blinks slowly, answering my question that wasn’t really a question anymore.
“Please untie me. It hurts.”
“Just a little longer, Jonjon. I have something for you.”
He walks back to the hallway. I hear some more clunking, and then clinking, like glass. He comes back with a bottle of red and two glasses.
I can’t help but smile.
“Now how the hell am I supposed to drink that?” I ask him.
He giggles, then says, “We’ll work something out.”
He pours us both a glass, then sips from his. Nodding approvingly, he moves closer to me and presses his lips against mine.
“What does that say?”
“Good. I’ll have to have a better taste, though.”
He grins, then kisses me again, this time letting his tongue share the flavour of the wine with me.
“Mhmm. I approve.” I open my eyes again, lazily.
My glass is being brought against my lips, and I have to strain my neck to drink. Despite my efforts, some of the wine spills down my throat, but Thom’s mouth is more than happy to clean it up.
He gets up and goes to the hall again. This time he stays away for a longer time. It takes him almost five minutes to come back into the room, carrying two lit candles and a plate. He places the candles on the bedside table and the plate on my chest. It’s filled with small pieces of toast, topped with melted cheese – camembert, possibly – and half a grape on each piece. Without saying a word, he takes a piece and brings it to my mouth. The moment it touches my tongue, I close my eyes and moan. It’s wonderful. The grape was a great idea, I wonder where he got that. Before I can think too much, another piece is on the way.
“Mmyummikeff?” he mumbles around his own, looking at me.
“More,” I command, watching him playfully.
By the time the plate is empty, the wine is half empty and my chest is full of crumbs and greasy fingerprints. Thom traces a finger over my lips whilst getting up, and I don’t ask where he’s going.
When he comes back, I can’t help but laugh out loud. Another plate, full of roasted peppers, knife and fork, a napkin ánd a table cloth, with which he starts to clean my chest. By the time he’s done, I’m shaking with laughter. This is so not Thom, and the effort he’s making is so adorable and hilarious at the same time.
“What?” he laughs, and it’s more a nervous laugh than anything else. Apparently he needs reassurement. I’ll have to taste first, then. I have to admit they look delicious.
When I get my first bite delivered to me, I hold my breath. What if it’s a complete disaster? What should I tell him? I close my eyes and chew. My eyebrows furrow and my moans are followed by a ‘holy fuck’ as soon as my mouth is empty.
“Where the hell did you learn to cook?” I ask him wildly.
“Your sister. Directions over the phone,” he admits. Taking a bite himself, he nods.
“She’s goood.”
“You’re good,” I nudge him with my thigh.
I get rewarded for my comment with the next bit, brought to me by his mouth. We both bite our part off the chunk and kiss before breaking apart, chewing happily. The plum and cherry tomatoes go incredibly well together, and the fresh basil adds an amazing touch.
“This is way too Lady and the Tramp to be healthy. Is this some sort of a compensation? Did you break my Tele?” I eye him suspiciously.
“’Course not! Jonny-y!” he whines. “Do I ever need a reason for doing this?”
His innocent blue eyes combined with the food and wine make me acquiesce.
The more we eat, the bolder he gets in feeding me, and the last piece is fed to me with him straddling me, taking it carefully between his teeth and letting it drop into my open mouth, before diving down to nuzzle my neck, hands roaming my bare skin.
I squirm and whine, telling him I want to feel him too.
“No way, this is too much fun,” he grins, snaking a hand under the waistband of my boxers, that are slowly getting too tight. But first I need something else done.
“Thom, the curtains. I’m not asking again.”
“Then don’t.”
“Thom, they can see us. Close them.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position right now to order me around, Jonjon,” he states boldly.
Despite the lovely dinner, this is getting on my nerves. I nudge him towards the end of the bed with my legs.
“Close them!”
He sways and almost falls over, but manages to stay up, and before I know it he’s pinned my legs down with his, his nose inches away from mine. Exactly how I want him.
“Hey now. I just made you dinner and hand-fed it to you. I think I can choose what to do next,” he states calmly, but the tone in his voice and the gritted teeth say otherwise.
“Well maybe for that alone I’d let you fuck me again right now, if you hadn’t been such an ass for keeping me tied up for ten fucking hours,” I retort.
“As I said, Jonny, I don’t think you’re in the position to order me around, let alone forbid me.
He puts a knee between mine and pries my legs open. I resist a bit, but let him anyway. He’s best when he thinks he’s in control. Lube is found quickly, and with only a few seconds of preparation, he shoves into me. I sway from the push and groan. He bends my legs further and grabs my hips. The strength with which he’s fucking me surprises me. I must admit that the feeling of helplessness, when tied up, adds something.
He buries his head in the nape of my neck and continues thrusting violently, moaning each time, and soon I’m joining him, tension building up. He brings his right hand towards my cock, and with a few strokes I’m there, making my chest the messiest it’s been this evening. He bucks a last time and comes with a groan, then collapses on top of me, skin on sweaty skin, lips grazing my throat.
Silence for a few minutes.
“Thom?”
“Mmh.”
“Could you untie me now?”
“Mmh. If you promise not to be mad at me.”
Fuck, I knew it. Somehow I knew it.
“It was my Tele, wasn’t it,” I state coldly.
“I called half the country this afternoon, there’s a guy called Roman who’s coming down from Manchester tomorrow to fix it.”
I sigh.
“I’m going to tie you to the boiler in the storage room tomorrow and you’re not coming out for a week. And don’t even think about being fed roasted peppers.”
“Whatever, Jonjon,” comes the sleepy reply, and with one hand he removes the knots. My hands, stinging with fresh blood rushing through them, instinctively fall around his thin frame, but I don’t care anymore. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.
My wrists are tightly secured with climbing rope. The thin kind, with pretty colours. I remember the day we bought it, at that large sports store outside of town. Thom had been bringing it up for weeks. Saying that silk ties weren’t really doing the trick, because they kept slipping when he squirmed, and then he could easily escape if he wanted to. That’s right, it was Thom who had been the one tied down. It wasn’t really my thing, and Thom hadn’t complained.
Until now.
It’s afternoon. The curtains are open, revealing the neighbours’ bathroom window. No, revealing me to the neighbours. An older couple, friendly, but in a cold, formal way, and behind that façade still very much disgusted with us and everyone else thinking that same sex relationships aren’t a sick, twisted sin. If one of them would discover me lying here like this, they’d call the police on us, no doubt. Thank God Thom at least put my boxers back on.
It’s been two hours and thirteen minutes since he left me here. My wrists are burning, the blood hardly able to make its way to my hands. He sure knows how to tie knots. Every time I try to loosen them, they only tighten more. That rock climbing camp he did as a kid sure proved useful. I try turning myself around, but when my stomach reaches the mattress I hiss from the pain my wrists are causing. I turn back and sigh.
It had started out rather good, though. Sleeping in, Thom bringing me tea to bed for a change, both of us just enjoying the peace and quiet of a Saturday morning. Noon, actually. And enjoying each other. I will never get tired of that, I know that by now. Ever. Even if I had to swear to never fuck him again, forever be the bottom, I’d do it with a smile. He’s good. The memory of this morning alone could be enough to wake up certain bodyparts.
I jerk my head towards the movement I notice at the door from the corner of my eye.
A smirking Thom is standing in the doorway. He’s holding something I can’t see, but when I lift my head from the pillow, he tucks his hand behind his back.
“How are we doing, Jonjon?” he asks casually.
I close my eyes and count to ten to keep from thrashing about.
“It’s nearly 3 PM, you know. You might want to consider getting out of bed, you lazy bum. The weather’s beautiful.”
My leg jerks involuntarily. Breathe, Jonny. Zen. Om. Yin Yang. Whatever.
“Thom. You’ll have to untie me eventually, there’s no way you’re going to cook that dinner for your parents on your own. You mess up cooking bloody potatoes.”
The smirk doesn’t leave his face. It gets bigger, ever.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve got everything under control. I’ve been doing some grocery shopping on my own. And lookie what I found. 50 cents off!”
He holds the can of whipped cream up for me to see. I roll my eyes.
“How unbelievably cheesy of you,” I snort.
The smile fading a bit, he walks towards the bed, crawls to the middle on hands and knees and straddles me, pinning my legs down.
“You know, I don’t really care about your opinion. I can do what I want with you. And right now, I want...”
He pretends to think deeply for a few seconds, then shakes the can, making the bed wiggle. The friction of our hips together is stirring things I’d rather keep down at the moment. I’m in the middle of picturing the neighbours g-string clad on the beach, when whipped cream is being squirted into my nostrils. I’m assuming he was going for the upper lip, when he starts covering my chin with more of the white stuff.
When he’s done, he sits back, evaluating his work.
“What,” I mumble, “you’re getting off on Santa?”
He lets out a high-pitched ha!, before adding, “Getting off is not my goal right now, Jonjon,” he pats me on the stomach, then keeps rubbing lightly, “but I might as well enjoy the moment.”
He bends down, pressing warm denim into my crotch and placing his hands next to my armpits, and sticks out his tongue. I don’t even feel it at first, the layer’s that thick. When he gets to my chin, it starts getting messy. I can feel lukewarm cream slowly sliding down my neck. Before it stains the mattress though, he swoops it up. I throw my head back; despite wanting to keep a stubborn face, I can’t help but enjoy this. He notices and pushes his hips down slightly. I swallow the gasp I was about to emit. Whilst licking my upper lip clean, he does it again, and I quickly lift my head and scoop up some whipped cream from his tongue before he can protest.
“Sneaky,” he says amusedly, and pinches my nipple. I grin, but don’t move an inch.
“Suit yourself.” Thom gets up and leaves the room haughtily.
“At least close the curtains?” I yell after him.
I think I dozed off for a few minutes because the sun is now fully concentrating on the bedroom window. I look at the alarm clock and am surprised to see almost an hour having passed since I last checked. 5:24 PM. Thom’s parents are arriving at seven. We need to get started on the dinner, and the toilet hasn’t been cleaned yet. It wasn’t my turn this week, and I’m not taking his again. He’s rubbish when it comes to household. I’m second worst, really, but two and a half years of trying to make the best of it have taught me a few things about cleaning, cooking and doing laundry. Thom, on the other hand, doesn’t learn from his mistakes. He keeps on putting jumpers in the dryer, cooking pasta until it’s mush and he never. Ever. Changes an empty toilet roll. At least I hope he’s currently proving himself responsible downstairs. I doubt it.
It’s getting hot in here. The sun is going down and stretching over the blanket, over my legs. Soon I’ll be drenched in rays and, consequentially, sweat. I’m losing my patience now. If he isn’t back in five minutes... No, I will not call him. But the dinner... If I don’t get downstairs now, we won’t get it finished in time, and I can picture my mother-in-law’s Face of Disapproval all too vividly.
Just when I feel I can’t wait any longer, I hear footsteps on the stairs.
“Thom, damn it, stop playing games! We need to get moving, they’ll be here in an hour!” I raise my voice, trying to get him to reasoning.
“Calm down, Jonny; as I said, everything is under control.”
He moves to sit down beside me with a tranquility that makes me want to chew my nails.
“Come on, Thommy, I’ve been here long enough, don’t you think? It’s getting too hot in here, I need a shower and I haven’t ironed that shirt yet, and have you turned on the oven for the peppers, ‘cause-“
“Shhhh.” Thom puts a finger on my lips and blinks calmly.
“You’re so sexy when you’re frustrated,” he coos in my ear, whilst running a hand over my thigh.
“Is that why you tied me up? I thought you’d had your dose of Jonny frustration last week when you broke that tile at the fireplace,” I state coldly.
“Jesus, Jonny, you sound like a married couple.”
“It takes two to get that effect, you know,” I bite back, but my voice is quivering because the hand has now moved to my inner thigh and the fingers are making the slightest circling movements towards my crotch, just enough to not tickle, not enough to satisfy. Well, what he lacks in household knowledge, he does more than make up in bed.
No, no no. Focus, Jonny. Dinner. Parents-in-law. Holy fuck we’re screwed.
“Thom, I’m ordering you to untie me. Now. We have guests, for christ’s sake. Your parents. Your mother. You won’t be able to do anything wrong, it’s me who always gets the blame. Besides, I can’t feel my hands anymore. I don’t deserve this,” I add miserably.
Thom nods.
“You’re right, you don’t deserve this. I’ll open a window.”
I make a grumbling, incoherent noise out of sheer frustration and powerlessness.
“Ooh, do that again.”
“Fuck you. Hey, wait, hey! The curtains! Thom!”
I can’t believe he just did that. I am now lying on my bed, hands tied to the bedposts, in my underwear, the window in front of me wide open, revealing me to the neighbours’ bathroom in all glory. I hope for them they’re not planning on taking a shower at six in the evening.
Part 2
I smell something. Could it be... is he really cooking that dinner all by himself? He doesn’t know how to season fucking spaghetti, let alone roasted peppers with plums and cherry tomatoes. He’s going to ruin the entire dinner. Fuck, I knew it. What is he trying to prove, though? We’ve developed our little division of tasks over the two years and a half we’ve lived here (well, one and a half, if you include the tour), and it works. Most of the time. Why this then? Is he unsatisfied with how things are going? He could’ve just told me instead of testing me like this. Fuck, my wrists hurt.
6:35 PM. That’s it. We’re done. I’ll be too late nevertheless. Not enough time to shower, iron and put on clothes, check the toilet (I bet he didn’t even remember), call a caterer to make up for the disaster in the oven... fuck, I have to make sure I won’t reveal an inch of my wrists. They must look horrible by now. Long sleeved shirt, then. What am I even thinking? It’s too late.
Part 3
I hear something. Thom’s climbing the stairs. What, now he’s coming to save me? It’s bloody 5 minutes to seven. I hear footsteps on the landing, then stopping. Something is being put on the ground. It’s clunking. Sounds heavy. Thom is entering the bedroom now, that same smirk from before smeared across his face. I look away, I’m too angry to react at this moment.
“Jonny.”
He says it with a certain... lecturing tone. As if he knows it all better. But softer, mixed with pity. I can hear the smile in his voice.
And then it hits me. The phone call this morning. It must’ve been to cancel the dinner. Must’ve been. He’d never... Oh, the fucker. He’s going to pay for this. I look up at him.
“They cancelled, then.” I say it calmly. I am calm. I’m calm, because I know I’m going to make him pay big time.
He blinks slowly, answering my question that wasn’t really a question anymore.
“Please untie me. It hurts.”
“Just a little longer, Jonjon. I have something for you.”
He walks back to the hallway. I hear some more clunking, and then clinking, like glass. He comes back with a bottle of red and two glasses.
I can’t help but smile.
“Now how the hell am I supposed to drink that?” I ask him.
He giggles, then says, “We’ll work something out.”
He pours us both a glass, then sips from his. Nodding approvingly, he moves closer to me and presses his lips against mine.
“What does that say?”
“Good. I’ll have to have a better taste, though.”
He grins, then kisses me again, this time letting his tongue share the flavour of the wine with me.
“Mhmm. I approve.” I open my eyes again, lazily.
My glass is being brought against my lips, and I have to strain my neck to drink. Despite my efforts, some of the wine spills down my throat, but Thom’s mouth is more than happy to clean it up.
He gets up and goes to the hall again. This time he stays away for a longer time. It takes him almost five minutes to come back into the room, carrying two lit candles and a plate. He places the candles on the bedside table and the plate on my chest. It’s filled with small pieces of toast, topped with melted cheese – camembert, possibly – and half a grape on each piece. Without saying a word, he takes a piece and brings it to my mouth. The moment it touches my tongue, I close my eyes and moan. It’s wonderful. The grape was a great idea, I wonder where he got that. Before I can think too much, another piece is on the way.
“Mmyummikeff?” he mumbles around his own, looking at me.
“More,” I command, watching him playfully.
By the time the plate is empty, the wine is half empty and my chest is full of crumbs and greasy fingerprints. Thom traces a finger over my lips whilst getting up, and I don’t ask where he’s going.
When he comes back, I can’t help but laugh out loud. Another plate, full of roasted peppers, knife and fork, a napkin ánd a table cloth, with which he starts to clean my chest. By the time he’s done, I’m shaking with laughter. This is so not Thom, and the effort he’s making is so adorable and hilarious at the same time.
“What?” he laughs, and it’s more a nervous laugh than anything else. Apparently he needs reassurement. I’ll have to taste first, then. I have to admit they look delicious.
When I get my first bite delivered to me, I hold my breath. What if it’s a complete disaster? What should I tell him? I close my eyes and chew. My eyebrows furrow and my moans are followed by a ‘holy fuck’ as soon as my mouth is empty.
“Where the hell did you learn to cook?” I ask him wildly.
“Your sister. Directions over the phone,” he admits. Taking a bite himself, he nods.
“She’s goood.”
“You’re good,” I nudge him with my thigh.
I get rewarded for my comment with the next bit, brought to me by his mouth. We both bite our part off the chunk and kiss before breaking apart, chewing happily. The plum and cherry tomatoes go incredibly well together, and the fresh basil adds an amazing touch.
“This is way too Lady and the Tramp to be healthy. Is this some sort of a compensation? Did you break my Tele?” I eye him suspiciously.
“’Course not! Jonny-y!” he whines. “Do I ever need a reason for doing this?”
His innocent blue eyes combined with the food and wine make me acquiesce.
The more we eat, the bolder he gets in feeding me, and the last piece is fed to me with him straddling me, taking it carefully between his teeth and letting it drop into my open mouth, before diving down to nuzzle my neck, hands roaming my bare skin.
I squirm and whine, telling him I want to feel him too.
“No way, this is too much fun,” he grins, snaking a hand under the waistband of my boxers, that are slowly getting too tight. But first I need something else done.
“Thom, the curtains. I’m not asking again.”
“Then don’t.”
“Thom, they can see us. Close them.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position right now to order me around, Jonjon,” he states boldly.
Despite the lovely dinner, this is getting on my nerves. I nudge him towards the end of the bed with my legs.
“Close them!”
He sways and almost falls over, but manages to stay up, and before I know it he’s pinned my legs down with his, his nose inches away from mine. Exactly how I want him.
“Hey now. I just made you dinner and hand-fed it to you. I think I can choose what to do next,” he states calmly, but the tone in his voice and the gritted teeth say otherwise.
“Well maybe for that alone I’d let you fuck me again right now, if you hadn’t been such an ass for keeping me tied up for ten fucking hours,” I retort.
“As I said, Jonny, I don’t think you’re in the position to order me around, let alone forbid me.
He puts a knee between mine and pries my legs open. I resist a bit, but let him anyway. He’s best when he thinks he’s in control. Lube is found quickly, and with only a few seconds of preparation, he shoves into me. I sway from the push and groan. He bends my legs further and grabs my hips. The strength with which he’s fucking me surprises me. I must admit that the feeling of helplessness, when tied up, adds something.
He buries his head in the nape of my neck and continues thrusting violently, moaning each time, and soon I’m joining him, tension building up. He brings his right hand towards my cock, and with a few strokes I’m there, making my chest the messiest it’s been this evening. He bucks a last time and comes with a groan, then collapses on top of me, skin on sweaty skin, lips grazing my throat.
Silence for a few minutes.
“Thom?”
“Mmh.”
“Could you untie me now?”
“Mmh. If you promise not to be mad at me.”
Fuck, I knew it. Somehow I knew it.
“It was my Tele, wasn’t it,” I state coldly.
“I called half the country this afternoon, there’s a guy called Roman who’s coming down from Manchester tomorrow to fix it.”
I sigh.
“I’m going to tie you to the boiler in the storage room tomorrow and you’re not coming out for a week. And don’t even think about being fed roasted peppers.”
“Whatever, Jonjon,” comes the sleepy reply, and with one hand he removes the knots. My hands, stinging with fresh blood rushing through them, instinctively fall around his thin frame, but I don’t care anymore. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.
Who Put The Weight Of The World On My Shoulders?
My brother and I have always been very close. He did my shoelaces when I was younger and he keeps protecting me from all evil. That is even our mum.
“Jonny, what are you doing up there?”
“He’s just doing his homework!”
An exchange of smiles, one grateful and the other reassuring. I am, of course, not doing my homework and let my brother explain to me the main points of the book he has just finished.
“It’s quite easy actually, Jon. The main character is in love with a girl, but can’t walk up to her and tell her about his feelings.”
“Is there nothing more?”
“Well, yeah, a lot of detail and although the summary – my summary – made it sound boring, it is in fact very well written.”
“Ah, alright.”
“You should read it, too.”
“I will, sometime. At the moment I have other books to read,” I say, smiling up at Colin.
“OK…”
He turns away from me to his desk to continue what he has started. It is a school project and because now it’s his last year before he will be leaving for college, it is very important for him to finish. A couple of weeks ago he explained to me what exactly it is about, but I forgot again. Something about language.
“How is school?” he directs a question at me without looking up.
“Alright…”
“Good.”
Those are the kind of questions he always asks me. He worries about me too much, I’d say. He feels the need to protect me, I understand that, but it seems to me as if he is overdoing it a bit. Once, I arrived home half an hour late. Other children do that on a regular basis when they are much younger and not fourteen. But Colin was outraged. Not even mum reacted like that. He told me to come home on time for a whole month and even after that he’d keep checking on me.
“Colin?”
“Mmh?”
“I am going out until dinner.”
”Alright, but don’t be home late.”
“Yeah, of course.”
I grab my jacket off Colin’s bed and leave the room, quietly descending the stairs leading to the front door. Mum is in the kitchen, the radio on and she is singing along. It makes me smile because she is so uptight most of the time and for once she seems to enjoy herself. The weather outside is nice, it is early spring, still chilly, but the sun is shining brightly onto my face. I make my way down the pavement and cross several streets until the reason why I am out appears on the next corner.
Friday, August 8, 2008
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