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Seamus

By: Sachs



My name's Seamus (I blame my parents for that). I'm six foot two, well-muscled, with dark hair and green eyes. I am still at uni and I play rugby. In my second year of university, I elected to stay in the hall of residence where I had been staying since the first year, rather than go out flatting like most of my mates. This was really because I didn't have time to make dinners or do any of the roster duties that flatmates usually have to do. It wasn't that I was lazy (ok I was a bit), I was in the university first fifteen rugby team and the second eleven cricket team. This meant that I had to keep myself in really good shape, I had heaps of practices, plus I had my uni work – commerce, and I had picked up a couple of jobs as a personal trainer to middle-aged women for a few hours a week.

I ended up in a shared room (it was heaps cheaper than a single room), sharing with a third year student. His name was Neill. He had longish, blonde-brown hair, these brilliant, piercing blue eyes, and a catlike face, with fine chiseled cheekbones and a pointed chin. His tanned limbs and chest were tight with lean muscle. He surfed when he could get to a beach, and skateboarded in his free time. He was studying zoology and was into Greenpeace and saving forests from mining projects and stuff like that. He regularly picketed against things that I had no idea existed. 

I guess Neill was a bit of a culture shock for me to start with. I had always been on the straight and narrow, doing what Dad said, playing the right sports, doing the right courses. Neill really made me wake up and start thinking about the real world. I found it hard to deal with some of his more extreme friends, but he was cool. We got along like a house on fire. I never had more fun than that year.

Anyway, one night, Neill came in at about eleven, which wasn't too late for either of us. He wanted me to come out on the town with him and anyone else we could pick up. "Come on man, come out," he begged me. His blue eyes bored into me, a quirky expression on his tanned face. "You never have any fun. When did you last get drunk, let alone laid?"

"I've got practice at 5.30, tomorrow morning," I grumbled. "Coach nearly had my balls last Friday when I showed up hung-over. He's getting really tough on the team – he kicked Nathan off games for two weeks just 'cos he showed up late for practice. I can't risk it, man."

"Oh, come on, that's your excuse every time there's a party or anything," he saw my glare and probably guessed I wouldn't change my mind by that reasoning. He changed tack. "Jill must be the last fuck you had, right? That was three months ago, man."

"I've had girls since then," I lied. I sat on my bed and started to take my shoes off. I lifted my gaze to his, smiling with pursed lips. "I can't go, mate, I just can't. I promise I'll come out next time."

"You say that every time," Neill said. He flopped down on the bed beside me. He sat so close that our legs touched, and when he spoke to me his face was only inches away. "You know what you need?" He took a deep breath. "A good shag."

"Like that will solve everything," I said.

"It'd be a start," he replied. "You're so uptight." He rested his hand on my thigh for a moment, up the top, next to my groin. He smiled at me, waiting to see what I would do next.

I thought it was typical gay chicken. Neill was always pulling this stuff with me, and I honestly thought it was a joke (yes, I was a bit dumb (plus stupid, 'cos I fancied him like crazy)). I responded by putting my hand down on his. His hand was surprisingly hot and sweaty. Gently, I moved both our hands to his knee, stroking them up and down his inner thigh. "Why don't you just go and have a good time. I'll still be here when you come back, if you're still horny," I joked. We both laughed, though his laugh seemed to catch in his chest very quickly.

He left after that. I can't remember him saying much, he just got his jacket and said, "Ok, bye." I stripped down to my boxers, turned the lights off and went to bed.

I was awoken at about one a.m. by the door being slammed. I heard Neill's light laugh, and the giggle of a girl. I was a bit annoyed that he had brought a girl back without texting me to clear out to somebody else's place, but didn't saying anything. I shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep. The lights flicked on, and it became harder to keep my eyes shut.

"Shit, you didn't tell me you shared a room," the girl spat.

"It won't be a problem, will it?" Neill said.

"Yeah, it is a problem. I am not shagging you in the same room as your roommate!" At this point, I had to open my eyes, just so I could see who she was. Her name was Simone. She took a lecture with me, and I knew her only on sight. Her skin was dark and she had long, wavy, black hair. She wore big, hoop earrings, a white, sparkly halterneck and a short, denim skirt. She was hot, I guess, I just wasn't into her. 

"He's asleep," Neill said.

Simone made eye contact with me. "No, he's not. I suppose you two think you're smart – one of you bring the girl back and then you both fuck me, right?"

Neill gave a little swagger and put his hands on his hips. He was wearing his usual bootcut baggy jeans (think seventies – most of his stuff was 'vintage'), but had on a nice button-down black shirt in some sort of slinky fabric. The contrast with dark made his hair look lighter and his eyes more intense. We made eye contact. He smiled and winked at me. Somewhere, there was some sort of logic to all this, but at that point, I didn't get it. "If that's how you like it," he told Simone. "I'm sure Seamus would like to join in."

I got up. I couldn't help it. It would just be too weird for conservative-little-me to have a threesome. "Umm, look, I'll go sleep in someone else's room, it's no biggie."

She looked at me (probably realizing that I was 'that rugby guy'). They both looked at me. I had on my 'tighty' black boxers that left little to the imagination. My abs were like a washboard, my arms and pecs were well-developed. I had no hair on my body – I didn't get it waxed (I don't do pain), I used a spray-on, hose-off depilatory spray. I was pretty vain about my body, and spent a lot of time and money getting a full body tan. At that point in time, I was probably the fittest I've ever been. Yet, I suddenly felt embarrassed by the way they were looking at me, especially Neill. I guess I suddenly got that all the passes he had made at me weren't a joke, they were for real. He was staring at my crotch. I couldn't help it, my heart pounded and I was hot and red all over. My groin tingled as my cock hardened.

I was mortified! I wasn't sure whether they'd seen my cock swell or not, but I quickly grabbed my pillow and a t-shirt and covered myself. I didn't know what I felt about Neill, but I couldn't deal with it now. I picked up my keys and pushed myself between them to the door. 

Neill caught my arm, "Don't go." The contact of his sweaty hand sent jolts through my body. My muscles tightened. I quickly shrugged him off.

I nodded to Simone. "Have fun."

I closed the door behind me and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. I didn't feel like waking anybody to share their room, although there were probably lots of people awake. I wanted to be alone to think, and sadly, the bathroom was usually the only place anybody could be alone. Surprisingly, as I walked past the door, I saw the common room was empty. I guessed there was a party on that I didn't know about. I settled down on one of the more intact couches and tried to sleep. I tried not to think about or touch my cock.

I must've slept, because at some point in the night, I woke up to somebody's cold, sweaty hand on my face. I had one of those waking experiences when your whole body jumps and suddenly you're wide awake. I instinctively punched toward the source of the hand. 

"Oww, man. What'd you do that for?"

"Neill?" I asked. 

"What a waste of time that was," he said. "She kept talking about you, then gave me her life story. We didn't even kiss! Now she's gone back to whatever hole she crawled out from."

"That's not very nice," I whispered. It bugged me that I couldn't see what Neill was doing. He wasn't even touching me now, so why did it scare me?

"I must've woken up half the hall looking for you," Neill continued. "I'm really sorry about the girl, I just wasn't thinking. You shouldn't have got kicked out of the room."

I sat up. "No," I agreed.

"Um, well, you can come back now." Neill's voice sounded unsteady for the first time since I had met him.

We didn't talk for a while after that. We got back to the room, got into our beds and turned out the lights. Finally, Neill spoke. "You're a bit quiet, mate. Are you all right? Is everything cool with us?"

"I'm just tired," I said. "What time is it?"

Neill shifted something on his bedside table to check his clock/radio. "Two eleven."

"Great." I shut my eyes again.

"Are you sure you're all right?" I heard his bedsprings whine, and figured he was rolling over. I didn't realize he was out of his bed until I felt his hot breath on my cheek. 

My heart was pounding like a hundred horses, sending pulsing, tingling blood all around my body. I shivered as I started to get hard again. 'Why?' I was asking myself. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' My groin felt like it was on fire (in a good way). I instinctively reached inside the waistband of my boxers and tugged myself. I felt myself lengthen and harden between my fingers. My hot cock was swelling very quickly to 7 ½ inches. "I'm fine," I gasped. What was happening to me? I wanted him to touch me so badly that I forgot to breathe for a couple of seconds.

Neill peeled back the covers and climbed in beside me. My heart felt like it would explode. I didn't know what to do. "What are you doing?" I moaned.

He pressed his bare chest against my back. I could feel every hair, every long, sinewy muscle, even his nipples, which seemed big and hard like a girl's. His silky hair caressed my skin, sending tiny shivers all over my body. Then I felt his hand pressing on the outside of my boxers. I think I stopped breathing again. My cock was still wrapped up in my hand. However, my balls were left at the mercy of his long fingers. He cupped them in his hand, pressing them back against me, seeing as they were still in my boxers, and did something with the palm of his hand which had my cock dribbling. I don't know why, but a natural movement came over me and I started to hump my balls against his hand, my back against his chest. I could feel his hot, fat cock rubbing against my lower back as I moved. He had boxers on, but his cockhead must have been sticking out. It felt wet and smooth, and only aroused me further. 

Neill kissed my neck with an open mouth. He gave me love bites, but he didn't really bite. He seem to pluck at my flesh with his mouth, momentarily sucking the skin against his hot, muscular tongue, then releasing it whilst he sought out another piece of skin. The areas where he had kissed me grew cold quickly, contrasting strongly with the warm, fresh kisses. I was hot and cold all at once. It felt amazing. No girl I'd ever been with had been so intuitive about what would feel good on my body.

I didn't know what to do, didn't know if I wanted Neill sexually. My body said I did (I did! I did!), but my mind kept going 'What the hell are you doing? You don't find Neill attractive. You're supposed to like girls. You're a sports star, you're not a pansy. What are you doing? Don't let him touch you like that.' It kept going around and around in my head, and I started second-guessing what my Dad, my other friends, my team-mates would say. Then I thought, 'maybe this will be a one-off shag. It doesn't mean that I'm gay.' My heart skipped a beat, 'who said anything about a shag?', 'what if he wants me to suck him? I can't do that, let alone the other stuff.'

Now I know that the most masculine, most sexy, thing a man can ever experience is another man's touch, but I didn't know that then. I was too scared about what everybody else would think to allow myself to enjoy what I wanted. I just couldn't handle it. Suddenly I heard my voice groan, "Stop, you've got to stop. I can't do this, I'm not gay."

Neill stopped touching me immediately. His hand left my groin, his lips my neck, his chest my back. I heard a strangled sound like a sob escape his throat. Then he was out of the bed. I covered my face with my pillow, whilst he did something on his side of the room. I heard the drawers slam shut, the jangle of his keys and the door bang. Neill was gone. 

I began to cry, slowly stroking my cock as I did so. It was amazingly wet with precum, which made jacking very easily. I was also much more aroused than I had ever been before. Every point of my body that contacted something else seemed to be hot and tingling, and it felt like hot ropes ran through me, channeling all the arousal to my cock. The starchy sheets clung between my sweaty legs. My slinky boxers provided only the lightest whisper of touch to my balls. I felt my own skin contacting skin, silky, hairless, with hot sweat providing lubrication for movement. My hair brushed across my face sending shivers throughout my body. Anything that touched me made me hornier. 

I wasn't gentle with myself, I started to rub and tug myself hard, so that jacking was almost painful. I couldn't help it, I was desperate to cum... and I couldn't. After a few minutes of punishing my meat, I gave up and rolled onto my back.

I lay there, bathed in hot sweat, the sheets stuck between my legs and my cock pushed out of my boxers, resting against my stomach. I felt so terrible. I couldn't understand what had just happened – well, I could actually, but I was all confused. I'd blown it with Neill and he'd probably never talk to me again. He was my best friend ever, in the whole entire world, and I'd lost him.

It was stupid, what I had said, because I had wanted him. I wanted him to hold me and to kiss me. I wanted to kiss him properly, so that our mouths and bodies met face to face. I wanted to stroke his hair and rub my lips across his forehead and along his cheekbones. I even wanted to feel his hot, hard cock in my hands, perhaps inside me. All these thoughts of desperation only aroused me further.

I started to remember porn movies where girls were fucked by huge red poles between their hard oily buttocks, only there weren't any girls – it was me, on my knees, face tilted into the floor, my hands behind me, parting my butt-cheeks for Neill's cock. Neill, grinding into me hard and fast, his hands on my hips, pulling me toward him every time he thrust in, so that his cock went into me deeper and deeper, forcing open my hot, virgin channel, so that next time he fucked me I'd be just that little bit looser. His hairy legs and balls would be pressed against mine, tickling me and arousing me further. I'd be panting like a dog, wanting more and more, drenched in sweat and so hot my skin would burn like chilli on my wet lips. My cock would be flat against my stomach, dripping precum all over the floor, until finally I wouldn't be able to take the fucking in my arse anymore and cum would explode from my cock, splattering my chest and even my face in a hot shower of lust. Neill would cum soon after, or maybe at the same time, filling my tight arse with so much thick cum that it would drip out my anus while his cock was still inside me.

I had fantasized about it many times before in the middle of the night, whilst half-asleep, and had always pushed the thoughts to the back of mind, like they weren't happening at all. I guess that's why it didn't work with any of the girls I'd been with recently – I was always imagining that I was the one being fucked and not the other way round. 

I was a coward. I worried about what Dad would think, and whether I'd lose my place on the teams. And the minute my dreams started to come true, I was too scared to let them happen. I had turned down the only guy I'd ever fantasized about. Neill was gone. Shit. I lay on my back with my pillow pressed on my face, and cried so hard that it felt as though my throat and lungs were being ripped out. After a bit, I ran out of tears, and started to think about how I could fix this mess. I searched around for my phone and tried his number. I heard his Nirvana ringtone on his half of the room, so I hung up. 

At 4.30, I decided that there was no point staying in bed. I got up, dressed, and headed out to my car. I chucked my rugby gear on the backseat and slammed the doors. I drove to a wooded park I knew and went for a 45 minute run. The dawn mists and fresh air didn't make me feel any better. I kept checking my phone for messages, nothing from Neill. I then had rugby practice, followed by couple of lectures and a session with my client, Mrs. Peters. I couldn't stop thinking about Neill and wanted to be back looking for him. However, it was 2 pm before I got back to the Hall.

The first thing I noticed was Neill's car, a blue Toyota that had had a hard life, parked illegally in the service exit. The trunk was open, displaying a shabby back-pack and a plastic bag full of clothing (nothing anybody would want to steal). I broke into a run, hoping to intercept Neill before he left. 

It was the time of day when almost everybody was out somewhere. There were only a few people I passed, apart from one large group of guys and girls playing football in a hallway on the top floor of Somerset Wing. They begged me to join in, but I made my excuses and passed through. I ran up down two flights of stairs, along another couple of hallways and into our wing. There I met Neill coming out of our room, a rubbish bag in his hand. 

"What the hell's going on?" I asked. Before he could reply, I steered him by the elbow back into the room and locked the door. I took the bag from his hands and tossed it onto his bed.

Neill didn't meet my eyes. "I'm moving out."

"Why?" I asked.

"Cos it's just going to be too weird if we keep sharing a room," he replied, shuffling his feet. Neill never shuffled his feet, or looked humble like that. It made me feel even worse about what I'd said, since he obviously wasn't himself anymore. It would have taken a lot of guts to do what he had done the other night and I must've made him feel like a complete fool (as opposed to an incomplete fool).

I didn't touch him, even though I desperately wanted to. Once again, I was afraid of seeming 'gay'. But I managed to stutter a few words, "I don't want you to go."

Neill looked up at me, his blue eyes suddenly cold. He held me with his eyes for a second or so, then glanced away. "We both know why I have to go. It just wouldn't work out if I stayed. You'd be all paranoid around me-"

"No-" I said. "Please, I won't. I've been a complete dickhead about all of this-"

"You got that one right," Neill whispered, in a harsh tone. He still looked away from me, his blonde hair half across his face so that I couldn't see his eyes. Normally that would annoy him – he was always threatening to get some of it cut off 'cos it kept getting in his eyes (he did not want to be a ponce in a ponytail, he said) – but I guess that day it was a useful shield.

"Neill-" I moved to stand straight in front of him, only inches away. I took hold of his shoulders but he shook away.

"Stop fucking touching me." He elbowed down my hands, fighting to get away from me. He succeeded, and went over to his bed to pick up the bag I'd thrown there. "I don't know what your fucking problem is, but I'll be glad to be away from you-"

I couldn't help it, I couldn't bear for Neill to hate me like that, I grabbed him, tightly this time. I pulled him close, even though he punched at me and it hurt. Closing my eyes, I kissed his fine, chiseled lips, as hard as I could. When I came up for air, he slapped my face and stabbed his knuckles into my stomach, driving me back so that I whacked my back on his drawers. "What the fuck are you playing around with me for? I know how you feel, so just stop pissing me around," he shouted.


Seamus & the Sisters



Seamus took a swig of Guinness & wiped the froth from his face. He lifted himself off his bar stool and said “Excuse me ladies, I have to visit the little boy’s room.”

“The little boys’ room?” laughed Margaret. “I don’t think so Seamus,” she said patting his large belly. Seamus smirked. Ciara & Margaret giggled to each other as they watched him walk off across the dance floor of the busy, rural pub.

Seamus was in his 50s, he was a big man; even without his belly, he would be a big man. He had a large frame with broad shoulders. He was bald on top but had a chest of thick, blonde, curly hair to compensate. Ciara & Margaret were sisters, both in their late twenties. Margaret was the more voluptuous of the two but both had very nice figures & quite typical features for Irish women, fair skin contrasting with dark, dark hair.

The gents’ toilets were out of order so Seamus had to use the makeshift one outside. The sisters watched him as he staggered out the back door. 

“Shall we?” said Margaret, nodding at the back door. 

“Mmm, yes please!” replied Ciara. They followed, making for the ladies’ toilets, weaving between dancing couples on their way. “What if someone else is out there Margaret?”

“I don’t know… double the fun?” The two women laughed. They walked past the ladies’ & slipped out through the back door.

In the dark, they could just make out the shape of Seamus leaning, pissing against an outhouse. He was alone. They moved to get a better view, gesturing to each other to be quiet. 

“Oooh!” crooned Margaret, quite involuntarily as they settled. Seamus’s fat, floppy dong was powerfully hosing the weeds at his feet, the inevitable splash-back spraying his Timberland boots. Steam rose in the cold night air. Ireland was not known for its night warmth. They crouched, marvelling at his piece. Ciara licked her lips.

He finished his business, jiggled & put his monster back in his trousers. The girls stood up.

“Ah Seamus, don’t put it away,” said Margaret

Seamus looked around, startled. “What are you ladies doing out here?”

“Well, we love to watch a big man at work,” she replied.

“With a big tool” added Ciara. The two women advanced on him. They each took a hand & led him around the back of the outhouse – lest anyone else came out.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise!” he said as they pushed his back against the wall. A cheeky smile spread across his rugged, handsome face. His features were rather ruddy, from years of (mostly harmless) drinking.

“Mmm, we’ve wanted to do this for some time,” said Margaret as she unbuckled his belt. Ciara wasn’t going to let her have it all to herself; she joined in unzipping his cage, and then ran her fingers along the inside of his underwear strap. She could feel his coarse, belly hair on the back of her hands. 

“Ah, we shouldn’t be doing this you know, I know your father,” said Seamus unconvincingly. The girls ignored him & delved deep into his underwear, rummaging around.

“Mmmm…” all three moaned in unison, chuckling when they realized they were in sync.

“It’s a bit crowded down there,” said Seamus.

“Sure I’m not surprised, Seamus! Four hands, one meat & two veg!” said Ciara.

“Yeah, big cut of meat too” added Margaret. Seamus grinned with pride; he couldn’t help it.

“Shall we set it free Margaret?” 

Margaret nodded & the women lifted the heavy load out of its habitat.

“Jaysus, don’t you get tired carrying this thing around all day?” said Margaret stroking it. Seamus chuckled; his belly chuckled along too.

Margaret slowly dropped to her knees, looking up at Seamus as she did. She knew men liked that kind of eye contact. Ciara was a bit peeved & jealous that Margaret always seemed to make the first move. Oh well, her time would come. Seamus watched as Margaret’s head disappeared under the girth of his round stomach. She engulfed his dick in her mouth.

“Mmmm” Seamus exhaled slowly. He grabbed Ciara by her arse & pulled her to him, kissing her firmly. This wasn’t so bad, thought Ciara. Seamus was a great kisser, he’d been around long enough to know that himself. She tongued him back & took in his musky, Guinnessy scent. Margaret was taking in musty scents of her own down below as Seamus’s cock quickly stiffened in her mouth. Once at full mast, she took it out & licked the side of the shaft, then gently bit it while massaging his blonde, furry balls. Jeez, they’d be a meal in themselves, she thought.

Meanwhile, Ciara was running her hand over his big belly while Seamus kissed her ears… neck… and mouth. She then placed her hand onto his thick, hairy chest. Mmmm, she just loved… a really hairy chest. She ran her fingers through the golden carpet of hair before her. Mmmm, what effects the feel of fur could have on her. Seamus lifted up her skirt so he could get a proper squeeze of her arse cheeks. Spurred on, she moved her hand inside his denim shirt. Oh what could feel better than having your hand sandwiched between a sea of fur & the owner’s shirt! She thought, playing with his large, hairy, man breast.

“Ohh” Seamus groaned. Down below, Margaret was licking the bulbous tip of Seamus’s monster. There was something about the men in this part of the world she thought, they all had really rounded heads. She ran her tongue over it a few more times, encouraged by the burly man’s moans, before licking him from his balls, up the underside, to the tip before greedily gobbling it all up again.

Ciara wanted to explore Seamus’s torso fully & see what that belly felt like in person. She moved her hand downward, popping open his shirt poppers as she went. The shirt spread open, revealing even more of his animal-like torso. She was pleased to find that his belly was as hairy as the rest of him! She just had to take a peek; she had long imagined what the rest of him looked like. He was a regular in Lydon’s Bar, always flaunting that hairy chest of his. Irish men of his generation seemed very proud of their hairy chests, they always wore their shirts as open as possible. Ciara noticed that bald men seemed to do this even more so, perhaps they were trying to compensate for the lack of hair on their head. Hair definitely equalled virility in this culture.

She looked him up & down whilst running her hands all over him. Then she gazed into his eyes, whilst slowly dropping to her knees, running her hands down through his hair as she joined Margaret down below. What a lucky bastard! He thought.

“Mmm hello” said Margaret, releasing the big, pink monster from her jaws.

“Mmm” replied Ciara, taking it in both hands. She played with it awhile, examining its dimensions; she was impressed. Savouring it, she slowly took it in her mouth, swallowing as much of it as she could. Margaret looked on, she reached up with one hand to stroke his belly, and played with his balls with her other. All the while Seamus & Margaret were smiling at each other.

After getting acquainted with his dick, Ciara offered Margaret some, releasing one side of it from her mouth. Margaret didn’t hesitate. They kissed, licked & sucked either side of Seamus’s massive, swelling member. The two women then French kissed with the tip of his cock in their mouths! Tonguing crazily. Oh what a feeling! He couldn’t help but grab both of their heads – as if it were possible to force them any closer! It was to keep himself standing as much as anything!

They heard somebody coming out of the pub; they froze. Gossip could be destructive in a small village like this. The footsteps came closer, but then stopped on the other side of the outhouse. Then came the sound of pissing. They relaxed a little, it was just another punter relieving himself, but they stayed still & quiet. Margaret cheekily licked Seamus’s tip, he waved at her to stop, fearing he might not be able to maintain silence. She smiled at him devilishly & licked it again. He waved again, more frantically. She stopped. They waited for the pisser to finally stagger back inside.

Margaret stood up and let Ciara have the goods all to herself again. She devoured the big cock. Margaret resumed where Ciara had left off, kissing this big, mature hunk & running her sticky hands all over his body. She pulled her top down to reveal he fulsome tits, a breeze tickled her erect nipples. Seamus being a breast man immediately bent over to devour them. His warm mouth on her mounds felt especially good in the cold air. She nibbled his ear & ran her fingers over the smoothness of his head. Seamus tongued her nipple lazily, and kissed & bit each one in turn. She put her hands down the back of his shirt & scratched his broad, hairy back.

Ciara continued to feast on Seamus’s cock. She too had released her breasts to the elements and was taking great delight in rubbing Seamus’s tip on her nipples, round & around, up & down and across her raspberries. Seamus returned his oral attention to Margaret’s mouth, kissing her with force, Mmm, the flavours of sex in the mouth. She returned her hands to his front & pulled his shirt wide open. She pressed her tits firmly into his chest & rubbed her nipples into his rug. She then dove right in & pushed her face into the forest, running her tongue all over… first over one nipple, then along his chest to the other and back again, licking in the valley between his chest & belly. She could taste the slightly salty sweat on his tough, manly skin, what a taste, then over the crest of his belly, down the track of hair that led to his cock, which her sister was still vigorously working.

They exchanged his aching, helpless cock between their mouths. A second dose of this treatment was too much for the big man. He felt the swelling in his huge balls. His servants could sense it too. Ciara got ready to receive, taking over sole duty. Again he held their heads for support. Oohhhh-hhhh! He groaned as he spurted. Ciara took all of round one; Margaret pulled the dick to her mouth. Seamus’s knees buckled as he spurted again. Margaret & Ciara took turns trying to swallow all that came their way, until he was completely spent. Finally, Ciara released his softening tool, it hung glistening in the car park light. Margaret took it in her hands & marvelled at it as she licked off the excess cum. Once Ciara had swallowed her last load she joined her sister in cleaning him up with her tongue.

“Girls, girls, please… enough.”

They chuckled. They stood up & gently kissed him on either cheek.

“I’m exhausted,” he said, slumped against the outhouse wall.

“Jeez, will you be wanting us to put it away for you too?” Ciara chuckled as they reached down & re-housed his flagging cock.

They readied themselves & headed back inside. The music & chatter was just as loud & vibrant as before.

“Jesus girls, that was great. I think I need a drink after that. Can I get ye one?”

“Oh no thanks, we’re not thirsty,” they laughed. “Do it again sometime Seamus?”

“Sure,” he said, discreetly patting them both on the arse as they headed into the ladies’ to clean up. He walked back to the bar a tired but happy man.

THE END

Comments welcome.



Seamus Ch. 02



"Me, Cyndy and Kev and whoever else we can find, are going out tonight, there's a new band playing at Pump," Harry said. "Do you wanna come?"

"I don't know," I replied. I was damn sure that Neill was going to be in my bed that night. I wanted that to happen as soon as possible. "I'm pretty busy at the moment, heading up to the University Games."

"Oh, come on man," Kevin said. He slung his arm around the girl ('Cyndy'), obviously his latest screw. She was a pretty redhead, but she only looked 18. He was a complete sleaze, but still a good mate. "You always have an excuse like that. What's happened to you? You used to go out every night and have fun with girls and shit. Now, in the last few months, you're turned into an old man, 'Oh no, I can't come out, I'm too busy', 'I'm too tired', 'I've got practice tomorrow', 'I've got a test tomorrow', blah blah blah, you've always got some lame excuse. We're all sick of it."

"Yeah," Harry added for extra effect. "Bring the old Seamus back."

I was about to reply when my phone rang, inside my room. I always had it on loud (except in lectures) in case I had another job coming up. "I'll give it some thought, guys, and talk to you later. I've just got to answer that phone." I went into the room and shut the door behind me, breathing a sigh of relief. It was then that I realized that Liam had skulked off at some point. It disturbed me, stuck in my mind like a barb. He always came and went so quickly, without a sound. It was creepy.

My phone was in the pocket of the jacket I'd discarded. I picked it up and flicked it open. 'Neill' flashed on the screen. "Yeah, it's Seamus," I said.

Neill exploded. His staticky voice screamed into my ear, "That fucking son-of-a-bitch! Do you know what he's done? I'll fucking kill him!"

"Who?" I asked. "Slow down."

"Liam!" Neill shouted. "He called the towing company on me. It was nothing to do with the kitchen staff – they don't even use that service entrance! Get this – he told Greg and Harry that there were problems with the kitcheners, so that I would get a message and get out there in time to see my car going down the road attached to a truck. It's pathetic. Why the hell does he do shit like that?"

"Shite," I said. "Did you stop the towies taking your car?"

"No. The bastards had come all the way here," he spat, sarcastically, "from one block over, so they had to take it to be 'worth-their-while'. Fuck. I couldn't even get my stuff out. And guess what? It's $200 to get it out of the impound lot. Bloody Liam, I'll kill that motherfucker!"

"Where are you now? Do you want me to drive you over to the impound lot?"

"Nah, I'm in Jill's car, we're outside the impound now. I'm gonna fucking kill Liam." The line went dead.

Unfortunately, Ms. Kelley, one of my aging gym-bunnies, had rung me that morning to reschedule her appointment to this afternoon. I left regretfully, a note to Neill on top of his bed. I hoped everything with his car turned out ok. 

It was about six by the time I had grabbed a shower and got back to the Hall. I ignored people and slipped quickly down to our floor. 

I started to unlock our door, but heard Neill yell from inside, "Door's unlocked!" He had the bass up high on his stereo.

I found him sitting on the floor with his knees up, leaning against his bed. He was wearing the same brown, tweedy, retro-old-man pants he had worn that afternoon, but had changed into a black shirt, which he wore open over his tanned chest. Several empty bourbon-and-coke bottles lay scattered around him, along with a half-full bottle of rum. I also distinctly smelt pot. "Dude, you'd better not set off the fire-alarms again. Liam's pissed us around too much already," I said.

"I put the joint out ages ago. It still smells pretty good though." Neill said. He didn't look up.

I sat down on the floor opposite him, against my bed. "So what happened with your car?"

He looked at me and smiled with pursed lips. His lips might not have looked too happy, but his eyes seemed to have their spark. He brushed his hair off his face, leant over, and switched the stereo off. "It's impounded. If I don't pay their fine, they'll sell it for parts." Suddenly, he smiled properly. "That's the bad news. The good news is I got all my stuff out of it and told them they could sell it. It's a shit car anyway – probably only worth about $300. I don't think they'll get many useful parts off it – it's unwarranted, the undercarriage is all rusty, the clutch is tetchy, the starter-motor plays up all the time and the left rear door doesn't open from the inside. I was sort of waiting for it to die."

"So what are you going to do for a car?"

"Well, I don't like doing this, but I rang up my parents. Mum already knew about the car and she hated me driving it, and, well, I hadn't told Dad what I was driving. They're going to give me a loan for a good secondhand car, which I'll pay back sometime, probably never. I pay for everything I have here, Dad can give me something for once," Neill said. "I'm still pissed at Liam, though. I mean, what is his problem? He's always giving people shit for no reason. He's like a fucking psychopath." 

Neill smiled at me again and something quirky happened with his face that looked like an open invitation. He licked his lips and smiled again, then dropped his legs so they were out straight. His shoeless left foot came to rest between my legs.

I smiled and started stroking my own thigh, how I wanted to touch his. I maintained eye contact with him, and licked my lips back. "You haven't done anything to Liam yet, though?" I asked. 

Neill undid his belt buckle as he talked to me. "No, Jill stopped me from going after him when we got back from the impound lot, but I tanked myself up on rum and went to his room a couple of hours ago. The fucker wasn't in, or else he was too scared to open the door. I kicked it a few times and started shouting and Jill escorted me back here."

"She just leave you here like this?" I pushed down the elastic waistband of my shorts. My cock felt hot and wet through my briefs.

"Nah, I convinced her that you were coming back soon, and hid the bottles from her. She had a few drags of my joint, we talked awhile, then she left." 

He unbuttoned the top button of his fly, causing his loose pants to flop open. I could see the painful tent his cock was making beneath the zipper. He eased the zipper down slightly, but didn't pull himself out. He reached inside and ran his fingers up and down his shaft, all the time watching my face. I couldn't help but groan as he pulled his wet, precummy fingers out of his pants, stuck out his pink tongue, and licked them. I couldn't move, I was just so enthralled by my best friend licking his own precum from his fingers. He must have taken my inactivity for fear or disgust or something like that, because he stopped suddenly and asked, "Are you still into doing this?"

I gasped, suddenly breathing heavily. I nodded. I could watch Neill all day. There was just something about him, and only him. I never felt like this about any other guy, just him. "Hell, yeah," I breathed. 

Neill went back to stroking his cock, still stuck inside his pants. "I mean... it would just be... like casual, right? I mean we- we aren't- you know- yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. He was right, we weren't gay, neither of us felt anything for other guys, and we were both attracted to and good with girls. No-one would ever have to know about it if we didn't want to tell them. I got up and turned the stereo on again. "So our hallmates don't come down here thinking we're having a fight again." I sat down next to Neill, my legs outstretched.

"So- Like, how far do you want to go?" Neill asked.

I reached over and pulled his meat into the open. It was really long. I don't know how long, but longer than my 7 ¾ inches (The ¾ was very important to me... I'm sure everyone's measured theirs at some point in time). It was searing hot and veiny and sort of flinched in my fist like it had got a fright. He wasn't as thick as me further down, but his head was big. It was a beautiful red-purple split bulb, glistening with precum. His foreskin had retracted, so I stretched it up, delighting at the way he groaned as his cock twitched. Quickly, the foreskin retreated from his fat head, so I pulled it back up and let it fall a couple of times. Then I began to slowly fist his hot cock, lubricated by the precum rapidly dribbling from his piss-slit. Neill was absolutely still. I don't think he breathed. I could feel his heart beat rapidly in his veiny meat, almost matching my own. "How far do you want to go?" I whispered in his ear, then nibbled his earlobe.

Neill's breath seemed to come in short bursts. "All the way- Any way we can- Fuck that feels good- Shit- You're so good-" His blue eyes fixed mine for a few seconds, and my hand went slack around his cock. He turned his body toward me and brought his left hand up to my face. He brushed his fingertips over my forehead, eyelids, cheeks and chin. His fingers, calloused from his job as a computer inputter for some accountancy firm (completely against his principles, but it was money), felt smooth and light on my skin. He traced a line about my lips with his index finger, then gently pushed it inside and ran it along the heat of my lower lip. I sucked him further into my mouth, my tongue tip flicking on his fingertip. "You're so perfect, you're so fucking bloody perfect- I can't believe it." he groaned.

Neill plucked his finger from my lips and stood up. His pants fell down around his ankles, leaving his engorged pole standing alone above his hairy balls. He stepped out of the pants and kicked them away. He pulled me up and I helped him strip off my shorts and soaked briefs. We merged together, hard-ons pressed tightly against each other's chests. My hair stood between his fingers as he drew my face to his. Then Neill stopped. "You want this?" he said. "Do you really want this?"

I could feel his warm breath on my lips, and taste a mixture of rum, bourbon, coke and dope in my mouth. There seemed to be a lot of saliva. I swallowed. My lips felt dry. I licked them. "Course I do."

All I could see were his bright blue eyes, large, sparkling, piercing into me. "Tell me how much you want it."

"A lot," I whispered, slightly confused by Neill's question. 

"What do you want to do to me?"

I think I understood then. I started to think about my fantasies of him, but decided they might freak him out. Instead, I talked about everything that came into my head at the time. "Um, well- I want to kiss your mouth- and your neck- your chest- I want to lick your nipples and stomach- God- I want to suck your cock in my hot, wet mouth. I want to lick it all over the head and taste your precum and lick the ridge underneath- and your hairy balls- Fuck, I want to suck you off until you cum in my mouth or on my face- and-"

I think Neill's eyes were smiling. He did not move, until he whispered, "Will you fuck me- Please? Or would that be too weird?" 

"Yeah," I whispered back. "But only if you fuck me."

"Shite," growled Neill and ground his sticky hard-on against my stomach.

Our lips met, open-mouthed, tongues playing each other. His mouth was scorching hot and tasted incredible. It was a different kiss to anything I had ever had before, even the one that afternoon. Neither of us was holding back. It was so hot, so masculine and aggressive. I was so turned on that I humped my pelvis against him harder. Our hot cocks rubbed hard, lubricated by dripping precum. His hairy groin tickled me like crazy. I liked that.

Neill reached between us and gripped both our shafts, so that they pushed together side by side, giving our rubbing more control. He leant forward against me, his other arm on my shoulder for support. His head was in the way so I couldn't really see anything but I could certainly feel it. His sticky hand was curled around our cocks (it couldn't close completely), jacking us fast. His cock seemed to twitch where we touched, whilst mine just got real hot. The hot friction was amazing. After a few seconds, he sank to his knees.

He stared up at me, a devilish smile upon his face. "Now I'm gonna suck your cock. I'm gonna suck it really good and you're gonna cum all over me." Neill lowered his face to my cock, one hand wrapped around its thick girth. I'd never seen my cock look so purple or swollen before. I'm sure it was bigger than usual. As I watched Neill, a big drop of precum beaded in my piss-slit and hit the floor between his legs, narrowly missing his cock. My cock wriggled in anticipation. Neill puffed cold air on me, seemingly mesmerized by my meat. I guess he was scared. I was scared when it was my turn. It felt like there was no going back after this.

"Please-" I gasped. "Please suck my cock- Arggh-" His lips stretched themselves around my head, then sucked me in. His mouth was very wet and warm, kind of like a pussy. I could feel his sizzling tongue playing my length as he sucked me in as far as he could manage (about a third of my cock was in his mouth), then pushed me out again and again. He tried to take me deeper, but it didn't work.

Neill choked and coughed. My cock slipped from his mouth, flicking warm saliva on my thighs. He gripped me tighter then, and stared up at me. He stuck his long tongue out and carefully orbited my throbbing head and shaft. I couldn't believe it. To me, this was better than when I was in his mouth. I loved seeing his wily tongue on my cock, and the way he stared up at me made it seem more special – like he was doing it to me and not just to someone's penis. 

His tongue became more persuasive as he got more adventurous, exploring my piss-slit and the folds of my foreskin. He followed the ridge beneath my cock all the way back to my smooth balls (already tight with cum), which he suckled and swirled in his mouth. His hair kept tickling the underside of my cock as he did this. My hips shook. After about a couple minutes of ball-sucking, I couldn't stand the pressure anymore. I ran my fingers through his hair and directed his head back to my dick. As I did so, his teeth grated against me as he playfully held and released me. The added friction drove me up the wall. I groaned.

Neill stopped sucking. "Is that okay? Are teeth okay?"

"Anything you do is okay," I gasped. "Is it alright that I hold your head?"

"Yeah," Neill said. "I like you showing me where to go."

With that, I gently pushed his head back onto my cock. This time, he easily took in at least half of my meat, sucking and slurping with his hot mouth. His head bobbed back until I was almost completely out of his mouth. I thrust my hips toward him, and pushed his head down on my cock. He let go of my shaft and grabbed the backs of my knees. His head easily slid along my shaft, his tongue exploring me as he did. At one stage, he started to gag and came up for air. "I'm- gonna deep-throat you," Neill groaned between coughs.

Neill gagged again and again, but wouldn't pull his mouth back from my cock, even though I released the hold on his head. I was moaning encouragement to him as he finally swallowed me until my whole cock was buried in his mouth. His hair brushed against my stomach and I felt his hot breath burst from his puffing nose. The rhythmic contractions of his gag-reflex sent shivers through me. My cock jerked in the hot, tight space of his throat and I thought I would cum. He held me there for what seemed like ages, until we both ceased to spasm. 

Then Neill started up again. I was whimpering, begging him to let me cum. His tongue pushed up against me and undulated along my length. It made my cock feel wet all over. My body sizzled with prickly electricity that sapped my strength and made me think my knees would give way. Just when I couldn't take it any more, he started to play my length again, pulling his head nearly completely off my cock then taking me all the way in. He was incredibly fast.

All I could do was grunt in pleasure. I moaned his name and told him what a good cocksucker he was, and how I was going to fuck his arse just the way he was sucking my dick. After that, I slipped into gasping words like "Shit," and "Fuck," and "Oh God." I grabbed handfuls of his silky hair and rammed his head down my meat, moaning his name. I was completely out of control... when somebody knocked on the door.

Jill again. "Neill, are you in there?" I saw the door handle turn and had this horrible fear that the door wasn't locked, luckily it was, though I didn't remember doing it. "Come on, Neill, open up. I can hear you moving about in there."

Neill's sweaty fingers tightened on my knees. He was breathing heavily through his nose, but he made no attempt to pull his face off my cock.

"Neill!" Jill shouted. She banged the door loudly. "Are you all right?"

I don't know why, but I spoke. "Neill's not here!" It shocked me that she could hear us. I hadn't even thought about that when we started. I hoped that our neighbors, Harry and Joanna, were out. 

"Seamus, Neill's pissed and half-stoned. Where'd he go?"

At that moment, Neill did something really mean. He licked his index finger and reached between my legs, stroking my nuts on the way. He reached up as far as he could and traced his wet finger down between my buttocks, until he reached my tight, puckered hole. He rubbed the finger over and around my burning arsehole. My breath caught in my chest. He licked his finger again and pressed it into me until my hole gave way, with only a slight tug of pain. His finger was cold compared to the heat that seemed to burn in my arse. He started to thrust back and forth in my opening, whilst his mouth maintained a tight hold on my cock. 

I looked down and saw his eyes staring up at me, a definite devious streak in his look. I was quivering all over and trying not to gasp, when Neill buried two more wet fingers, deep into my arse. I don't remember much pain, more a big shock that my arse was spread open like that. It was not just the sensation of being penetrated, but also the thought that another guy was fingerfucking me that set me off. I completely lost control, crying out as my cock exploded in his mouth. My cock spurted so hard that it escaped his lips, jerking and shooting hot cum all over his eager face and chest.

Jill banged on the door again. "Seamus- Seamus, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I gasped. I leant over and supported myself on the bed. I flashed Neill an evil look as shockwaves continued to ripple through me, more cum spraying on his bed-cover. "Just strained myself doing stretches."

"Can I come in?" Jill asked. "I'm really worried about Neill and all this shit with Liam."

"No-!" I shouted, before I had thought of an excuse.

"Why not?"

I avoided her question. It was hard to speak, but somehow I got out a breathless, "Neill's gone to Mike's. He's not here." As I spoke, Neill's mouth extracted cum I didn't even know I had left. Another orgasm washed over me. I couldn't stifle my loud groan of enjoyment.

"Seamus, are you jerking off?" Jill said quietly, through the door. I almost laughed. That's what I liked about Jill – she was straight up and down and said exactly what was on her mind, rather than side-stepping or playing mind-games.

"Um...Yeah," I lied. It was half-true. Neill was just helping me out with my cock.

Jill laughed. "Okay, um... I'll get you to drop by later if you're not too busy, yeah? Tell Neill I'm looking for him, he's switched off his phone." She laughed again. "Okay, well, um, have fun with your meat. See ya."

I managed to gasp, "Bye!" as my orgasm drained away.

I stared down at Neill. Shit, he was a mess. I had never seen so much cum (except in old porn). Cum dripped from his nose, eyebrows and chin. His hair was matted and wet. There was cum on his chest, his shirt, his bedspread and the floor. As I watched, he ran his fingers down his face, smirked, and dipped them into his mouth. "You are a monster," I whispered, not sure whether Jill was out of earshot.




Seamus Ch. 02



"Sorry- I couldn't help myself. I love seeing you squirm," Neill whispered, then laughed. More seriously, he said, "Did you like that? Did I do it right?" 

"Better than anyone else," I said, honestly. I slumped, facedown onto his bed. I felt drained and my arsehole throbbed with fire, yet I could not stop shaking with excitement. My spent cock dribbled between my legs, onto Neill's bed and the carpet.

Neill climbed up beside me and knelt on the bed. It had a crappy soft mattress, so as he sunk in, I was drawn into the dip around him. "Mmm...Thank you," I murmured. "Thank you so much. I can't believe what a dickhead I was to you last night. I'm really sorry." I pulled myself upright and put my arms around him and began to lick my tangy, slightly bitter cum from his face. Intermittently, we kissed, hard and fast, sharing the flavor between us. Very quickly, his face was all clean. I stopped for a second. "Was that okay? I mean, on your face? Was that okay?" I had only ever met one girl who had liked that. The rest seemed to get freaked out about the mess or psychological shit (like I mustn't respect them if I came on their face).

"Stop worrying," Neill whispered as he nuzzled my ear, treating me to open-mouthed kisses on my neck and jaw. "Anything you want, just do it to me. Everything you do drives me wild- I was getting so frustrated, I thought about- climbing in your bed and sucking you while you were asleep- or getting you so stoned that you couldn't stop me- I mean, I wouldn't really do it-"

"Yeah, I had some thoughts like that," I said.

"Why didn't you do anything about them? I dropped enough hints."

I pushed him onto his back, his head at the foot-end of the bed, and leaned over and kissed him. "Cos I'm an idiot... I was scared about what would happen- I wasn't even sure you were for real, or just playing gay chicken. I have to be the dumbest guy on the planet... But damn, I'm glad that we sorted it out..." I brushed his chest with my fingertips, and with both hands pulled his shirt as wide open as I could get it.

Neill's olive skin enshrouded long, lean muscle. He had broad shoulders, but his body tapered along his trunk, and his hips were narrower than mine. His powerful, yet slender, shoulders and upper-body muscles were a result of competitive swimming at high school, as were his lean, muscular legs. He wasn't bulky like me, but definitely not unfit. 

His chest hair was an object of fascination, since I had religiously removed mine since I was eighteen (a girlfriend told me that she didn't like it on her tongue or face). His chest seemed more masculine, with its the triangle of golden curls above and between his nipples, and the narrow trail down to his groin (I looked forward to licking down that path). I loved the way the hairs felt; thick, coarse and silky at the same time, so different to my own smooth skin. In places, his hair was slick with cum, but as I bent to lick it off, Neill pushed me away.

"We gotta stop."

I was completely taken off guard. "Why?"

"You invented a half plausible excuse with Jill, but you gotta remember that its around tea-time now. They'll all be coming back to their rooms, or down here to talk to people. You can't stall by telling people I'm at Mike's and you're wanking all night. For all we know, Harry is sitting at his desk, the one pressed up against our wall, right now. Joanna might even be home."

"The walls dividing the rooms are made of concrete bricks, mate. You can't hear a damn thing through them. The wall with the door is the only one not soundproof." I was angry. "I thought that you wanted this!"

"I do," Neill hissed. "I just don't wanna get caught out, and neither do you, else you wouldn't have been so fucking paranoid last night and you wouldn't have lied to Jill."

"Look who's being fucking paranoid now," I snapped. "I just want to give you back what you gave me."

"I can wait, we can both wait. Fuck, I'm sure the anticipation or something'll make it even more explosive, yeah?" His voice mellowed. "Is that okay? Are we cool?"

"I suppose so," I said, disappointedly. I wasn't finished with him just yet – I managed to suck his neck until he moaned and pushed me off the bed. "So we get dressed now and pretend we're normal, straight guys for a few hours?"

"We are normal, straight guys," Neill replied. I had begun to doubt that... "You should probably go see what Jill wants. I'll clean up, then sit in the common room in half an hour or so, and tell everyone I've just come in from Mike's house."

*

Jill let me into her room with her normal, wry smile.

"Don't worry, I've washed my hands," I joked.

"Good," she replied. "I won't have to go round with spray-n-wipe after you leave."

Let me tell you about Jill. She had long, shiny, straight hair dyed a dark, purple-black color. I'm pretty certain she was naturally blonde, if the hair color of other areas was anything to go by. Her skin was very light, like cream, with a pink flush along her cheekbones. She lined her eyes with thin stripes of black eye-liner, and always had a streak of purple on her lids. She was incredibly beautiful and had an amazing body. Yet, most guys were scared of her and I don't think she had many female friends. I guess it was 'cos she looked a bit Goth and had some very deep convictions about things like the war and freedom of speech. She was plainly spoken, and said what she really thought, rather than lying to protect people's feelings, which some people would prefer. She fitted in well on our floor. She was "one of the guys" in thought, speech and action, but her clothing was definitely different.

That day she was wearing a bright, emerald green skirt sewn from what looked like old curtains. Around her neck was a tarnished gold chain with an amulet of amethyst. A tight black top dipped low on her breasts. I won't get started on her breasts. They were perfect, I'll leave it at that. On her feet were some purple velvet stilettos decorated with tiny, off-set bows. Jill was the only girl I knew that wore pantyhose because she liked them rather than 'cos she had to for work and stuff like that. That day she wore sheers in a muted purple color, which shone slightly on her curvy calves.

Her room was a single room, probably about a third-quarter the size of mine. Since it was a cheap room, perhaps cheaper even than mine and Neill's, it was crappily furnished. The Hall had provided her with a tiny, skinny bed (it hardly fitted Jill, let alone anyone extra), and a desk. There were built-in cupboards by the door. While we were 'going out', Jill had bought a couch for $10, which wouldn't fit in her room – Mike had cut it back to three-quarters size with a chainsaw, and Jill had slipped bricks under the side that didn't have an arm. It was now wedged in the space between the bed and the wall the door was on, but you had to climb over its corner to get into the room.

"Don't stare at me, sit down," she said. "Look, let's just forget this afternoon, ay? I'm not embarrassed but I think that you are." She grinned savagely and opened her wardrobe door. It always amazed me how she managed to fit things in odd places. She had a small refrigerator and a TV in her wardrobe so that you could sit and watch TV on the couch with a beer (these were not new – she had gleaned them from the transfer station at the tip and fixed them up). She opened the fridge and got herself a bottle, giving me a good view of her curved bum and the Celtic tattoo above it. "You want one?" Before I could reply, she chucked it to me.

Seating herself on her bed, her back supported by black satin pillowcases, Jill said, "I'm really worried about Neill." Jill had gone to school with Neill, and they'd been friends for years. I don't know if they were ever girlfriend-boyfriend, but they were very close. I had only known Neill and Jill one year, and they were my best, most honest mates. I felt like I didn't have to pretend to be smart or strong or a lout around them, I could be myself. I hated lying to Jill about me and Neill, but truth was I couldn't say anything until we'd figured out how serious it was. As far as I knew, it was only casual sex, not important for anyone to know, just like when me and Jill had slept together for a while. We cared deeply about each other, but sex was a secondary relationship to our friendship.

"Over the last week, Neill hasn't been himself. He's been grumpy and on edge and taken some stupid risks. I mean, it's not like him to start fighting with you over some silly girl, and he never drinks alone. You're pretty close to him, do you know what's going on?" 

My cheeks felt hot, but if I was blushing, Jill would have commented. "He's fine, Jill. Everyone has bad days. He's back to normal now." I hated lying to her. Jill deserved better than that. But if it was only casual and going to end soon, what was the point in telling anybody? Me and Neill were not gay, and didn't need our lives complicated further by people who thought we were.

"Are you sure?"

"Course I'm sure," I replied.

"But you'd tell me if there was trouble?" This wasn't like Jill at all. She normally went straight to the point and did not muck around fishing for answers.

I smiled, "Oh come on, don't look so worried. It's not like you to get all wound up like this. Of course I'd tell you if there was anything going down. There's not. Neill's just been a bit shitty lately, that's all, and I'm sure he's sorted it out. It's like when you have PMS."

"I don't get PMS!" Jill snapped in mock-anger. Her expression quickly shifted into a frown. "Has he said anything about Liam?"

"He had a lot to say about his car being towed," I replied. 

"Yeah, he was bloody angry," Jill said. "I was scared that if he kicked Liam's door anymore times his foot would go through it..." Her voice trailed off and she looked quite serious again. "You've both had problems with Liam lately, haven't you?"

"Stop worrying. Liam's not going to get anyone too upset. Yeah, he has a problem with everyone, but everybody knows he's an arsehole, and nobody takes much notice of what he does, other than swear a bit."

"You have to be careful," Jill whispered. 

Perhaps if she had told me everything she knew, some things wouldn't have happened. That doesn't mean I blame it on Jill, far from it, but if I knew Neill's background better I may not have hurt him so much. I might have understood why he behaved as he did, instead of trying to work it out later and getting angry and doing stupid things. Of course, it wasn't really up to Jill to tell anything; it was Neill's life, after all...

After that, we moved on to other topics, and through some beer. Jill went back to her normal, joking self. However, her worries about Neill and Liam still clung in my mind. It was just so unlike her to give guarded questions like that, and not say what she was really thinking. Later, we joined Neill and some others and went up to an impromptu pool tournament in the main common area of our wing (a big games room upstairs.) Neill came second, so we had to celebrate that. There was a lot of drinking (the RAs were mysteriously absent, most were nice enough not to fine us for alcohol in common areas). 

Couples started to pair off and disappear, until only us 'singles' remained, draining off in loose groupings. It was after midnight by the time we got back to our room, since we diverted to Greg's large, third-floor room (a fucking mansion compared to our basement room) on the way to listen to music and talk shit. We held liquor well, as students generally do. Neill and I were both 'happy drunk', not quite tipsy and definitely not comatose.

Our room was pitch black. I heard him lock the door, but after that, he moved so quietly, I didn't know where he was. The lights flicked on. I was standing next to one of the desks, which had just found my shin in the dark. I felt his arms come around me from behind. "I've been waiting for this all day," he whispered in a husky voice, nuzzling my neck.

"You're certainly pleased to see me," I gasped. "Or is that your wallet grinding against my butt?"

Neill laughed a little, then said, "You were just waiting for a moment to say that cliché, weren't you? Anyway, you had a boner half the night. I saw. When that Becky-girl sat in your lap, she thought it was for her. Greg couldn't understand why it was so funny when she slapped you... Now, tell me, was it for her?"

"You know who I was hard over, and what are you complaining about, Mr. Stand-close-to-the-pool-table-and-hope-no-one-notices?"

"I was not!"

"You were so. I bet your boxers are all wet with precum, if you're wearing any of course." I swiveled around and shoved my hand down the front of the sports-pants he'd changed into. As usual, he hadn't bothered with underwear. The lining of his pants felt as hot and slick as my boxers. He was red-hot and hard as wood. I grabbed his shaft, roughly, and pulled it from his pants. "What do we have here?"

Neill's steely fingers grabbed me through the front of my trousers, and pulled me to him. I felt myself spasm like I was about to cum, and was seeing stars. "Probably a similar specimen to what we have here," he whispered. He kissed me, not gently like before, but hard and aggressively, like he knew what he wanted.

When he released me, I was quivering all over. "We've got to fuck," I gasped. "Please fuck me. You're making me so hot." 

Now that I look back, I wonder when I stopped being scared. Was it when Neill sucked me earlier, or when I was half-pissed that night? A change had come over me and I no longer really cared what people would think if they knew. I said and did exactly what was on my mind, anything to feel the incredible arousal that Neill's presence drew from me. I know I sound like a sap, and a slut, but that's how it was for me. I'd do anything for Neill.

Neill moved his arms around my back and pulled me into him. His blue eyes narrowed. "You sure?"

I rubbed my body against his, enjoying the friction of our clothing on my sweaty skin. His engorged cock, still over the waistband of his pants, dribbled hot precum onto my polo-shirt. "Of course I am. This is what I want." 

"Have you ever..?" Neill asked, "Has anyone ever put anything in your arse?"

A shiver washed over me. "A few fingers, nothing bigger."

He smiled. "Me neither. Scary, huh?"

"I trust you," I whispered. "I want you to fuck the virgin out of it. I know it'll hurt, but I don't care."

"I just makes me so horny, thinking about it – you in me, and me in you. You ever butt-fuck a girl?"

"A few times," I said. "What, you think that means we'll know how to do it?"

Neill shook his head. "I don't know, we'll have to try and see."

"What about condoms? Have you ever had sex without one?" I asked.

"No," he said. "Why?"

"I haven't either. That means we're clean right? 'Cos I want you to fill me up when you cum, not some rubber bag."

Neill kissed me hard with an open mouth. Our hot tongues played and tasted the night's mixture of drinks. He started to pull my shirt off whilst mouthing my cheekbones, neck and jawline. "That's so fucking hot," he murmured into my ear, teasing it with his soft lips. He pulled back so I could haul off my shirt. He did the same. "I don't want you to use a condom either, yeah? When my arse is split open, I want your juices pumping into me."

"Fuck man, don't say it like that. You're making me so horny I might force you down and do it now," I groaned.

Neill kicked his shoes off and ripped his pants down. "Go ahead, Seamus, I'm all yours."

I was hyperventilating as I stared at his hot body. Those long, lean limbs and his finely muscled abdomen drove me wild. His blonde hair glowed under the lights, on his head, his chest, right down to the patch above his cock, his heavy balls and legs. His cock, red and raw in the shaft, and deep purple in the head, curved up in front of him.

I tore what was left of my clothing off, and grabbed some lube from my bedside cabinet. I pushed him back onto my bed, whispering, "On your back," then climbed astride him. He made a strange, purring noise. His fingers traced the curves of my arse. "Mmmm..." I groaned, enjoying the sensation. I pressed back so that his hot cock and flushed nuts pressed between my cheeks, my cock and balls flat on his chest. I rocked myself against him for a moment. His breathing was coarse and erratic. 

"Fuck man," he whispered. "This is so fucking hot... Just you and me..."

I moved up Neill until my cock brushed his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth to feed on my meat. "Just to get me wet," I murmured as I stroked his hair. I was a selfish prick. "Let me know if it's too weird." I allowed him to lap his tongue around my swollen red cock, all the time watching the way his head tilted as he puffed breath and his eyes smiled on mine. I felt his lungs and ribcage expand with every erratic breath, then deflate once more between my tensed, muscular thighs. My balls rubbed against the stubble on his chin.

After a bit, I lay against him and we tongued, sharing hot saliva and the flavour of the night's drinks and foods. Sweat ran from my forehead onto his face, quickly cleaned up by my mouth. The bedsprings screeched as we humped our sweaty bodies against each other. We gasped and groaned, telling each other how fucking great it felt. I was beyond caring whether anyone could hear us or not. Harry was out with Kev at Pump. We couldn't hear Joanna screaming, so she wasn't there. If worst came to worst, we could always blame sound on Joanna ('the Nympho'), who had an extremely active sex-life when she was home, which was seldom. Nobody really knew her at all. Greg thought she was a hooker. 

My right knee looped between Neill's, causing his legs to be forced apart. I pushed my right hand into the gap. My sweaty fingers found a way behind his balls, to stroke lightly across his dry puckered hole. I wouldn't stick anything inside him unlubed, but he didn't know that. I teased the hot skin with a bead of sweat that had dribbled between his clenched butt-cheeks. He jerked involuntarily against me, squishing his hard, wet meat, into the knotted muscle where my abdomen joined hip. I reached between us with my left hand and grasped him tightly until he whined for release. Release he got. Eventually.

My own body was just as out-of-control as his. Against Neill's side, I rubbed my fully hard cock, swollen and demanding attention, although his mouth had temporarily sated it. Everywhere we touched burnt and dripped sweat as if we were in a furnace. Most of all, I noticed that whenever I did something to Neill that sent him shivering, moaning, or forcing my head to his body, my corresponding body part would go into palpitating spasms, sending shocks of warmth to my cock. 

I maintained my grip around his long shaft as I licked a line over and between his nipples. I stopped to tease each hard point with my teeth before giving them a light suck that had Neill moaning like a child. I would have liked to spend more times on his nipples, but I was too frantic with thoughts of his cock to bother. 

His chest-hair felt wonderful as I swirled it around my tongue, sucking it to form small tents on his chest. Maybe it was the friction, the way it tasted (salty, pungent with a strange after-taste that I couldn't quite pin-point), or the fact that it was definitely masculine, that resulted in my shivering skin. I licked down his chest, drawing hot, wet circles that became smaller and colder as I left his nipples. Finally I was tongue-circling the hairy skin above his cock, around and around and around. I mimicked the action with the fingers I had pressed to his tight anus. I don't think either of us could take it anymore. I lifted my head and gave him a long lick along his ridged underside, then parted my lips.




Seamus Ch. 02



My mouth devoured his head, my zeal somehow allowing it to easily pop through my tightly stretched lips. Neill grabbed handfuls of my hair and forced my face down to his abdomen. I still don't know how it happened. It hasn't happened since. My tight throat parted without a gag. His knobby, saliva-coated cock curved down the back of my throat, filling it 'til I thought I'd explode from pressure. He hyperventilated and started to shake. Suddenly his entire body seemed to burst against me with heat. "Fuck-" he groaned. "You're a fucking freak, man- Suck me-" He pulled my head up until it was almost completely off his cock and rammed my face down again and again. After a while he ran out of energy, his grip relaxed and he allowed me to explore him with my tongue. 

He tasted good. Bitter, sweet, salty, a mess of tastes and smells all at once. My tongue studied the hot, throbbing veins in his shaft. It flicked to the source of his ridge and wet the place where balls met cock. I orbited his knob, tasting urine and old cum in his slit, then moved down to his sticky foreskin. I tried to use my mouth to guide it back over his head. Didn't work. I administered my left hand instead, then licked the outside, now exposed by straightening it, then let it retract. I moved on to jacking him whilst rolling his dribbling head on my tongue. His breathing became labored and coarse. I loved the way he shuddered and moaned stuff, and resisted his attempts to push my head further down his shaft, deciding that that would be a reward for good behavior. 

Neill's arsehole had twitched against my index finger every time his breathing halted or he gasped something. It sort of eased open a miniscule amount, like it wanted to suck my finger-tip in and be fucked, then closed again. I had resisted the urge until now. I reached for the lube. "Bend your legs, man," I whispered. I didn't know how close he was to coming as I swallowed his whole length and pressed against his hole a little harder.

"Fuck, dude- Shit- I can't help it- Shit- Shite-" Neill moaned and convulsed, his cock twitching violently. He couldn't cum now. I jammed my knuckles into the soft area between his ball-sac and anus. Yes, I had read about it in one of Jill's Cosmopolitan mags. He grunted out, "Ugh, uh, argh-" and similar gravelly noises from the back of his throat. A small dribble of dilute cum trickled from his slit down my throat. The rest had been diverted elsewhere; probably bad for him, but I was desperate to keep him hard. Whilst he shivered and shook away post-orgasm tension, I squirted a big gob of lube on my hand and rubbed it until warm through. 

Neill slowly raised his knees, thrusting his pelvis slightly upwards to give me access to his anus. I checked his face, making sure he was still okay with everything. He smiled lazily and whispered, "Fuck." To me, that meant I was doing something right, he was enjoying himself.

I grinned back. This was so weird. I was scared about what we were doing. Not because I thought it was wrong or would hurt or anything like that. No, it scared me that I was completely okay with it. That I was aroused by Neill and playing his body like I knew what I was doing, when I had no experience what-so-ever. It felt so damn natural that I was doubting who I had thought I was. I was scared because I didn't think I could keep this as a casual relationship. I knew I loved him, and the way he'd been talking made me think that he didn't view us the same way as I was beginning to. It was all happening so fast...

I lay with my head on its side between his legs, staring at his hole. When I blew on it, it would pucker a little more than usual and Neill would shiver. I kept thinking that this should turn me off, but instead all I could imagine was how hot and tight he would be, and how much even a finger would split him open. The skin was pigmented slightly darker/greyer than his normal skin, just like his scrotum. His blonde hairs stretched along his crease, but the area around the hole itself was hairless. The hole appeared small, puckered and brown, but would dilate a little as Neill relaxed and show pink.

My tongue slithered across his opening. I couldn't believe it, I'd just licked his arsehole... and it tasted good. I'd never done that to anyone. My cock throbbed with need. I let Neill's moans subside, then licked again. This time I tried to push my hard-yet-soft, hot tongue inside him. I was disappointed that it didn't work. Still, it had Neill nearly climbing the walls, his hands firmly anchored to the bed by big handfuls of sheet. I remembered the forgotten lubricant on my hand.

My lubed fingers carefully orbited his anus, making sure that everything was as wet as possible. I didn't want to hurt Neill. I wanted this to be the best damn fuck he ever had. I daubed a blob of the gel on the hole itself, enjoying the way his knees were trembling. I checked my index fingernail (I had an experience with a girl with pointed fingernails once – fuck, it hurt), then pushed the tip into his tight, hot depths, circling around just inside to make sure he was well lubed. I pulled out, re-coated my finger and pressed further in. His sphincters were like hard cords around my knuckles, yet once inside, his hot, velvety rectum felt like it had a bit of give. I thrust in and out in, trying to loosen his opening, in a tiny movement that I didn't think he'd be able to feel. He felt it all right; suddenly bearing his pelvis down to trap my finger in an even tighter space. "Jesus- Fuck, Seamus- Put something bigger in, please," he whined.

I countered by stabbing his hot arse with two, then three fingers. He thrust against air and the bed, moaning that he wanted more and more. I couldn't bear to hurt him... I was about to fuck my best mate... I couldn't believe how my thought patterns had changed in the space of twenty-four hours. 

"Oh shit man, God, fuck me hard, fuck me hard, please," Neill moaned.

I was shaking like a hot leaf. I looked down at my huge plum-colored rod. The anticipation of fuck had swollen me larger than ever. The mushroom shaped head was more than 2 inches across at the tip, spreading out into a wider bulb below. Threads of precum bled down my shaft and onto the sheet below. I really thought I was going to explode. I was desperately hot and prickly. Neill handed me the lube, and helped me grease myself up. We kissed and held each other for a second, then I pushed Neill back onto the bed.

I picked up his sweaty legs and looped them over my arms so that his knees hooked into my elbows. He bent his knees upwards to expose his arsehole to my cock. His hand held my shaft tightly, causing me to twitch, as he guided my tip to his anus. I shivered as my hot skin brushed his wet, puckered opening. I saw that he had closed his eyes and mouth, as if waiting for pain. I leant forward and kissed his forehead, whispering, "Come on, man. We can stop if you don't want to do it-"

Neill's face exploded in a laugh. "What, you think I want you to stop?" His muscles relaxed, giving me the perfect chance to thrust into his hot, tight opening. The laugh quickly turned to grunts of, "Unk, umph, umph, uh." I tried to ease back, but his hands pushed my tensed buttocks toward his pelvis. "Just do it, man," Neill groaned. "Just force yourself all the way in."

I thrust really hard, but hardly moved. He was so fucking tight and felt blocked off. I was afraid I was stretching him so far I might seriously damage him. I slipped back almost all the way out, so that his sphincter was stretched less. I tried to thrust back in. I met the same barrier three inches inside. This time I heard a catch of pain in Neil's breathing. "I'm hurting you," I whimpered.

Neill's sweaty hand brushed my cheek and jaw. It slipped down to rub his abdomen. "Just- just push harder," he gasped. It didn't work. I thrust in and out, desperately trying to loosen him up. Finally, I pulled all the way out, his anus making a popping sound as my cockhead flicked out of his hole. "What you doing?" he asked.

"It's not going to work," I said. 

"Of course it is," Neill snapped. He sat up, pulling me roughly against him. Savage kisses burnt their way down my neck, plucking my skin against his teeth. He grazed along my jaw and cheeks. When his lips finally got to my mouth, they pushed brutally against me, so that it felt like he was bruising me. I moaned into his mouth, delighting at the way his sharp tongue wrapped around mine. I raised my face to the ceiling as he sucked my lower lip. My skin tingled and I shivered. His fingers twiddled my sweaty nipples, sending shock waves to my rod. "You have to fuck me- You have to- I want you to force me open-"

Despite his exhibition of control, Neill was shaking like a leaf. "I want this so bad," he mouthed in my ear. "I don't fucking care if you hurt me, okay? You make me so hot that it doesn't matter. It'll get good soon."

"It's good now," I gasped.

Neill squirted more lube on his hands and massaged my hard-on until it glistened. "If you sit on a chair it might work better."

The mental image of Neill impaling himself on my cock, rushed through my mind. "Okay," I agreed, giving a sly smile. I walked over to my desk, hot with the knowledge that he was watching my every step: the way my cock bobbed against my abs as I walked, the ripple of my buttocks and the muscles of my back. I dragged a chair into the centre of the room and sat on it. Neill stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders for a second, then moved in front, facing me. He climbed astride.

Neill stood with his thighs clenched, butt lowered until his pubic hairs brushed my cock. He stabilized himself with one sweaty hand on my left shoulder. I could tell he was breathing heavily by the way his dark nipples rose and fell, and the feeling of his warm breath bursting onto my skin. His blue eyes focused on mine, a grin on his cat-like face. I ran my hands down his back, tracing the slight bulges of his fine, lean muscles. I applied no downward pressure to his body, just resting my hands lightly on his hips. "This is so fucking hot," he whispered, as he began to lower himself on me, forcing his anus open.

I was surprised that this time his tight fissure spread open far more easily than last time. Maybe leaving it for a couple of minutes had been enough to relax whatever muscles that had automatically tensed to prevent invasion. Suddenly, Neill just dropped down on me, as if he could no longer stand to have his legs clenched at that angle. His action drove my shaft deep into his hot bowels. He cried out and gasped like he was in a pain, a sound that I mimicked, shocked by the tight, warm sheath suddenly covering my dick. His hole tightened spasmodically about my cock. "Shit, man, shit," he swore.

I drew my hands up his back, rubbing him, trying to help him relax. His head had flopped forward over my shoulder. His mouth puffed warm, wet breath against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair. "You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he groaned, tilting his face to mine. I kissed him slowly, then fast, trying to let him know how much this meant to me. I reached down to his neglected cock, burning hot against me. His shaft had shot precum onto my stomach. I took some on my fingertips and drank in his flavor, sharing it with him in a deep kiss. My other hand steadily jacked him, causing him arse to pulse around me.

Neill lifted himself up, nearly completely off my cock, and slammed himself down again. "Shit," he gasped, as he did it again. Suddenly, though still incredibly tight, it was easy for me to fuck him. He felt slippery and hot, as though his rectum had leaked lubricant to help move the blockage of my cock's intrusion. I bounced my pelvis upwards as he shot down my pole. My fingers were between his arsecheeks, both pulling him open and helping to control our thrusting. He started to thrust forwards a little so that my cock rubbed his prostate. It sent his anus into more spasms.

"Ride me hard," I moaned and slapped his butt like a jockey to a horse.

"I'll give you hard," Neill replied. He rammed himself down as my hips and cock rose to meet him. My skin was on fire with friction. As he drew off me, I bucked my chest forwards to brush his. He grabbed the hollow behind my neck and pulled my face to his. "How do you like that?"

We kissed and pounded his arse I don't know how long. I don't think we stopped to think about noise. We both went insane, grunting and talking dirty, sharing spit, sweat and his precum between our lips. After a bit, I picked Neill up, still deep in his hot arsehole, and flopped him onto the bed. His thighs automatically gripped my hips, holding me tightly inside him. Finally, our hips were pressed completely to each other. I was also free to ram him as hard as I wanted, something I'd never do to a girl, but which seemed definitely okay with him. 

Neill didn't seem to be in any particular pain anymore. I drove in faster, knowing that my thick cock was stretching his narrow hole further open than it had ever been. It provoked me to fuck him harder and harder, drawing grunts of air from his chest. I wanted his body to bear some memory of my cock spearing his bowels, his channel looser and more open than ever before. Selfishly, I wanted him never again to be so tight that I couldn't fill him in one thrust. With these thoughts in mind, I literally battered him like a battered ram. As I did this, I managed to massage his prostate with my cock, more out of luck than anything else. 

Neill gave me no warning he was about to cum. He didn't shake or cry out in preparation, perhaps he didn't even realize. When he did cry out, he had already begun to cum. I felt his rectum spasm around me, his hot anus clamp hard on my girth. His cock jumped between us, splashing thick, white cum mainly on our chests but also on our faces. His juice was so hot it felt as though my skin was burning. 

My already tight balls couldn't take it anymore. I felt energy rush through my body, channeled to my cock. My body temperature fluctuated out of control. Heat prickled all over the surface of my skin, mingled with freezing cold that made my hairs stand up, my skin shiver. In the first release, my balls sort of clenched hard, causing cum to spurt almost painfully from my quaking cock. The spasms rocked me again. I cried out, my toes curled. I felt his hot arse vibrate around me. Hot cum shot deep inside his bowels, like a milky enema. Soon it had nowhere to go, pooling hot against my cock-head. Still, my cock spasmed again, forcing cum down around my length. I trembled, and started to grunt, but Neill grabbed my head and forced our lips together. I gasped in and out of his mouth, tasting the flavours of his warm breath. My eyes dribbled with the intensity of my release. Suddenly, my muscles lost all power. I went slack, glued to Neill by the cum on our chests and my softening cock.

It felt as though I lay there for hours before I plucked my shaft from his hole. When I finally did, a trickle of cum followed after me. My fingers explored his sticky hole, finding it closed, but definitely much looser before. "I'm going to tongue your arse," I told Neill, who had slumped sweatily in one position and seemed unable to move.

Neill offered no resistance as I rolled him onto his front. "Are you okay?" I whispered.

"Fuck yeah," he gasped, head turned on his right cheek. "I've never- ever- like that. I can't even move- I'm so wasted."

I didn't focus on his arse straight away. I bet it was burning, probably still throbbing and spasming. I ran my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders and down his back, using methods I had experienced when I had physio for a back and shoulder injury the year before. Once I was satisfied that he was relaxed, I moved on to his arse. I flicked my fingers over his white cheeks – such a contrast to the rest of his golden, tanned skin. After that I kissed the top of his crease, loving the way his breathing caught in his chest. I parted his cheeks and licked the sweaty hairs between them. Sweat and body salts assaulted my mouth. His flavors were wonderful. Finally, I orbited his now raw and angry red hole. I gently pushed my way inside. I couldn't believe I had my tongue inside his arse. The feeling and taste of his burning, still tightly constricted hole sent a shiver washing over me. 

Neill moaned and humped the sheets as I set to work cleaning and sucking cum away. I wouldn't dream of doing this to a girl's pussy, let alone her arsehole, if I had left cum inside her. But this didn't gross me out, I guess 'cos I knew it drove Neill wild...

*

Later, we lay together, our sweaty limbs entwined, sheets stuck to our bodies. Neill's head rested lightly on my shoulder. My face was turned to his, nose buried in his hair. He smelt sweet, sweaty, salty, a mixture that I cannot explain in words. "That was amazing," he whispered.

"Yeah," I murmured in reply. "Like nothing I've had before. Next time you'll have to fuck me."

"Of course," he said. "I can't wait to take your virginity. God, my arse is on fire now. Your cum's still dribbling out."

"Fuck, man," I whispered, stroking the fine hairs of his abdomen.

"No-one has to know though, right?" Neill said, rolling over so that his hot, flaccid meat pressed against my hip. "It was incredible and sexy and all that, but we don't want to be shouting about it in the streets. I mean, we're not gay, we don't need other people giving us shit about stuff that's just hot sex."

"Yeah." I felt my stomach sink. My throat thickened and my eyes prickled with tears. He was right, I didn't want shit from people that didn't get it, but to me it was more than hot sex.

"I mean, it doesn't mean anything..." 

I made some sort of sound like agreement and lightly kissed his forehead. We lay in silence. I heard Neill's breathing change to snores. Once I was convinced that he was asleep, I slipped from the bed, found some shorts and a shirt, and my sneakers. I was going out for a jog. In the middle of the night/early early morning. I wasn't worried about my own safety, I was big enough that anyone would think twice about going me, and if they did I could hold my own. I had to go. I find that I can only about ever think properly about touchy-feely stuff if I am running, exerting my body in a repetitive pattern whilst my mind is miles away.

Neill did not stir as I locked the door behind me, and set off down the hallway. As I walked toward the stairs, I heard someone move behind me. "Fucking fag," someone spat.

I wheeled on the person, Liam. What the hell was he doing up? Had he been listening to us fuck? He folded his arms across his chest to try and appear more staunch. He didn't, his pajamas were cut off in the leg, whilst the top was too long. He had his usual sneer and frown. He couldn't change that he was short, but he could change that he was an arsehole. "Don't think I don't know," he whispered. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." I took the stairs two at a time to get away from him.

They don't call him Bullet for nothing; he ran up the stairway and caught me on the landing. "That's right, I know what you are, fag." He was in my space and I was pissed enough with everything to deck him. But I held back, not 'cos of reasoning or anything, just did. I don't know why. Later, I wished I'd kicked the crap out of him. I would have lost less if I had, appearing some raging psycho rather than what I became, losing everything that mattered to me.

"Go fuck yourself," I told him. I couldn't deal with Liam's shit. I pushed past him.



Seamus Ch. 03



Here's the next chapter. It's a bit longer than I would have liked, but there were plot bits I had to get in. I hope that the melodrama isn't too high...

*

"Fuck Neill, fuck Liam," ran through my mind as my car sped through town. "I don't need this shit. I don't mean anything? Fuck him then." I was angry and sad at the same time, and it took about fifteen minutes for me to cool down and think logically. Maybe Neill was right, maybe it was just hot sex... No, it couldn't be. He was messing with my head. I saw his face, his body, felt his hot breath on my skin, tasted him in my mouth; and started to get a little hard (okay, very hard) thinking about him. How I could produce another hard-on, I don't know. As it was, I ignored my burning, wet cock and focused on the road and the thoughts buzzing in my head. It couldn't just be hot sex. I'd never felt like that before. Nor had I felt so utterly desolate as I did when he said it didn't mean anything. I felt like I might die. 

At the same time, I felt cheap, angry and stupid for enjoying what had happened (okay, loving what had happened with Neill). I was just like all the other fucks Neill had had, only I wasn't a girl; that somehow made it worse, like he was indiscriminate about whom he gave favours to. He'd use me then discard me, like he did to girls, and call me names behind my back. "Fuck you!" I yelled at a truckie at the lights; he stared back at me as if I was fucking mental. I thought for a moment he might drive after me like in that movie, but of course, he didn't. This was real life and real life had real consequences. "Fuck you, Neill," I swore again, a little less loudly. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

"...And fuck you, Liam!" I howled. What the hell was that shit about? Did the prick spend his nights wandering the hallways listening to people fucking? What the hell was he going to do now? "Shite. Stupid fucking mother-fucker." I'd die if he said anything to my friends... that made me realize that in some ways I was just the same as Neill, hiding my true emotions from everyone around me, even Jill. Even from Neill. Why couldn't I say something? I loved him and hated him, and I was just so fucking angry and sad at once.

*

I took the highway out, turned sharp left and drove into a coastal area where Neill surfed regularly. I sat in my car for what seemed like ages, staring out at the black sea. The tide was turning. I saw the white tongues of waves flash in the darkness as they receded from the rocky sands. The few lights along the road glowed purple in the darkness, casting an eerie, stark light upon houses, footpath, the rock fence and the sea below. I had been shocked at the time about what Liam had said, but now I was starting to think that it didn't matter. Not because I believed I was gay and didn't care what other people said – I cared a lot; friendships, my relationship with Dad, even perhaps my selection for teams seemed to hang in the balance. I was terrified about what friends like Jill, Greg and Harry would think. I was even more terrified about what Dad would think. And I was worried that I was reading far too much into one sexual encounter with my best-friend... I was also afraid that I would lose his friendship, lose Neill, if I told him how I really felt. Yet, I came to the conclusion that whatever Liam said, no-one was going to believe him anyway. A) because he really didn't have any friends to tell, and B) because everyone thought that he was a crazy son-of-a-bitch. No-one would believe him. I didn't realize the things he could do to make my life hell. Nor did I wonder why Liam was so concerned about me and Neill in the first place.

What went round and round in my mind most of all was Neill. How good it felt when our bodies touched and how easy it had been for me to be with him. My mind never stopped me by saying, 'ugh, this is a turn-off'. I had no inhibitions at all; it felt good and natural. I even knew what to do when we fucked... how the hell did that work? I loved sucking his cock, tonguing and fucking his arse, and every time I thought about it, I got hard again. My mind said he'd humiliated me, but I didn't feel like that at all, just horny as hell. 

It had hurt me so much when I had seen that Neill was in pain because of my cock inside him. I couldn't bear to see that look on his face. It made me feel like my insides were shriveling up. And when he said, 'It doesn't mean anything,' I honestly felt like I would die. It was the same feeling I had gotten the night before when I thought I'd lost him forever for turning him down.

What was Neill's fucking problem? I mean, Neill obviously enjoyed it. He had initiated the relationship in the first place, whereas I was too scared to do anything except fantasize. He gave me a blowjob first, and had no qualms about putting his fingers in my bum or swallowing my cum. He asked me to fuck his arse before I did. He didn't lie back and expect me to do everything to him. When we finally fucked, he was the one who came onto me and started it off. Neill knew what he wanted and how to get it. Yet, Neill was the one who seemed to back down at the end, saying it was hot, but casual, sex. That we really didn't mean much more to each other than one-night-stands do. What was up with that?

I was scared about what people would think. I didn't know what Neill was scared of, he didn't talk of that sort of stuff. It would have helped me understand him a lot more if he had. 

Of course, I knew all sorts of things about Neill, he was my best mate after all. Stupid stuff like how he got a long scar on his arm (roller-blading into a corrugated iron fence), what his favorite color was (cobalt blue), why he loved old-style clothes (because they were sort of classy, reminiscent of by-gone eras (You don't see many tweed pants these days). Neill loved old movies, as well. They were generally vintage horror/thrillers, but also the occasional pre-condom, hairy, no fake tits, poor-lighting, real looking, dodgy porno (which, I've just realized, we jerked off to together, cocks out, and did not find weird, before we hooked up). I have no idea where he sourced these movies from, but somebody thought they were worth releasing on DVD. 

Neill's Dad was a corporate something (in some big company), and his Mum was a paralegal. His Mum didn't need to work, but she had got sick of being at home. There was a bit of a conflict of interest between Neill and his father, since Neill didn't want to be like his Dad. Neill's Dad consequently refused to give Neill any help at all with paying for his study, accommodation, anything. So Neill was always picking up jobs he hated, just to get by (like the inputting at the accounting firm, his permanent part-time job; he also had had jobs cleaning butcheries, hotel rooms, bartending...). Neill had gone into zoology because he was interested in 'Sociobiology' – roughly meaning animal behavior. As a minor, Neill took psychology (Jill's subject) as he was interested in the link between human and animal behavior. It wasn't a choice just to piss his Dad off. It did, though, which Neill saw as an added bonus.

How Neill's parents behaved really hurt him, although he tried to hide it. He sent his mid-term results home (all above 86%, far better than my 55%-77%), and got a typed letter back, corporate letterhead and all, asking why he had lost the other marks. How cold and fucked up is that? Neill destroyed a piece of Hall property in response. 

I know Neill feels like he's never good enough, so perhaps he did not want his Dad to see being with me as another failure... Or maybe Neill was just as heartless as his father and it didn't mean anything to him who he fucked just as long as he got off. That's how he treated everybody else (I don't remember him ever having a girlfriend, just a series of girls), so why was I any different?

If I told Neill how I felt, he'd brush it off. Or he'd get angry at me and I'd never see him again. I couldn't let that happen. Maybe it was best to do nothing and just experience what we had while it lasted. I was such a stupid, fucking wimp, but I couldn't bear to lose Neill. 

I got out of the car at about 3 am and ran up to the point and back. I was really pushing myself hard, and managed to do it in thirty-six minutes, when it normally takes me about forty-eight minutes. Running is good, it seems to take away all the physical tension caused by anger, desire or sadness. Every piece of energy in your body is focused on hitting that piece of pavement, following through and hitting it again, arms helping to propel you forwards. Sometimes you can over do it, as I did that night. I collapsed in the driver's door, and sat there awhile, dripping hot sweat that stuck me to the old vinyl bench seat. I counted my pulse, as I had before the run, then again every one-and-a-half minutes, to see how quickly it fell to resting state. As I did so, I saw my cell phone flashing on the passenger seat and forgot about the fingers on my neck. The light meant messages.

'Six new voicemail messages' flashed on the screen, as I opened the phone out. I let them play. The first was Dad. He had called at 9 pm the night before. 'Hi Seamus, it's me, Dad,' (he always did that, like he thought I couldn't recognize his voice), 'Guess what? I managed to get the money together and book my flights. I'll be here for a week, around the time of the finals. And don't you dare say that your team won't be in the finals, because I know damn well it will be. I need to sort out somewhere to stay, so if you could let me know about a good, cheap hotel, it would be good. I'm really looking forward to seeing you. What's it been? More than a year, anyway. You'll have to come home for Christmas this year...' (His breathing became heavy, like he was sad.) 'Anyway, it'll be good to catch up. Tell your girlfriend I won't eat her. It's Jill, right? Okay well, ring me. Bye.'

We live on the other side of the country. It's a pretty impossible drive, and air-flights are dear because of all the transfers. I knew that Dad had been saving forever to come and see me. I was glad he was coming. It was far more than a year since I'd seen him, more like two. I wondered whether he had changed much. Last time I'd seen him he was having trouble with his knees... and pretending he wasn't. Years of pushing himself in the navy as a youth, followed by marathon running and extensive gym training had taken their toll (Yes, I get a lot of how I am from him). He's currently a personal trainer, but before that had been assistant coach to a second division rugby team, which was big time. I don't know what happened to make him leave. If he gets sick of a job, sometimes he'll just chuck it in and find something different to do.

I don't think he's dated anyone since Mum died when I two. He was away on some naval thing at the time, and I don't think he can forgive himself that he wasn't there. No-one could have stopped it, anyway. It was a blood-clot, sort of a ticking time bomb inside her. Since then, he's moved job to job, house to house. Like me, he goes out and runs himself into the ground, playing merry hell on his joints and body. I don't think he's ever really dealt with a problem, just tried to run on and forget it. Don't get me wrong, he's no coward. Other men might have gone to pieces over Mum's death and having to raise a two-year-old alone. He didn't. He's always been good to me.

Since I was a kid, he's always 'known' that I am going to be an international rugby player, or that's our plan. I think it's a good plan. He's not one of those pushy Dads you see roaring at school games, he's never pushed me like that. He did ensure that I enrolled at the most prestigious university in the country, something to 'fall back on when times are tough'. He was damn sure I wasn't going into any armed force; probably his own experiences made him say that. He has his rules, as all parents do, but he is a good guy. Still, I didn't how he'd react to Neill, if me and Neill were a serious relationship (if Neill decided we were a serious relationship (My anger had died down a little and I was slightly lucid)). I'd never heard Dad say anything particularly homophobic, but it's different when it's your kid. And it's hard when you've grown up in such a male-influenced way, the naval and locker-room culture, where guys just don't talk about stuff at all.

'Next new message,' from 2.56 am (I must've had the volume on the ringer turned off, else I would have heard these calls). 'Neill' was on the screen. "Dude, where are you?"

The message after that was about 2 minutes later. "Seamus... Fuck, just pick up! You've freaked out again... Don't fucking freak out, man... Damn it, please, can we talk?"

3.12 am, "Damn it, Seamus, answer your fucking phone!"

3.20 am, "Seamus... Stop freaking out and come back! Oh, come on, Seamus, you shithead..."

3.26 am, a deep breath... "Look, I feel real dumb, man... I can see that your running gear's gone and nothing else... I'm not trying to act like some psycho, ok? But God, you must be bloody shagged, you can't do this to your body... You do need to sleep... I'm sorry, okay? Just come back. And don't be freaked out by what we did, we can, like, not talk about it again, if you want. Never say anything, ever, about it. We can go on like we were before, yeah?... Okay, well, bye."

I picked up the phone and rang Neill back. "Nah man, I'm fine. I just- Well, you know I go out all hours if I can't sleep. It's nothing to do with you- Yes, I'm sure that'd help tire me out," I laughed at his suggestion. "Okay sure, riiiiggght. Okay, I'm on the way the back. I'm up the coast, should be about twenty minutes. Yeah, nothing's wrong..."

'Nothing's wrong', I thought. 'Everything's bloody wrong, that's the fucking problem with me. I always fuck things up. I make things complicated when they shouldn't be... Shit, Shit, Shit.' I wheeled my car into reverse and hit the road fast.

*

Neil jumped me before I had even shut the door. He'd managed to put some boxers on, but that was it. Just the sight of his face, let alone the rest of him, brought back memories of the hours before. (I didn't think I'd ever forget the look on his face when he had cum: the way his eyes suddenly opened all the way out, his lips a tongue-width apart, utter bliss on his face.) I could smell the pungent scents of sweat, sex and cum in the air and on his hot skin. The way he was rubbing himself on me was beginning to get me hard. I pushed him away; I wanted to talk to him first... I mean, if it was such a casual, mean-nothing relationship, why was he so desperate that I come home from my run?

When I pushed Neill away, I saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "Look, man..." he began. "Look, it doesn't matter- I'll move out, and... well, you don't even have to talk to me again if you don't want to..."

"Is that what you want?" I asked. I was so messed up that I didn't know what I wanted. I dragged Neill close again, our chests near touching. His biceps tightened under my hands. Electricity crackled through my hot palms. His hands slapped against my sweaty t-shirt and then sneaked down to the hem, fingers like twin spiders, dappling my skin. I quickly released him, my heart thundering as I heard his breathing become rapid. I reached for his face. My fingertips flowed down and along his sweaty jaw, which was prickly with a new day's growth of blonde hairs. I felt him swallow as I leaned in, close, so that our mouths were only inches apart. Our hot breaths mingled in the air between us. My lips grew warm and moist. I licked them. A shiver rushed over me. I was scared. I shook Neill away.

"What the- Ay?" Neill said, blue eyes shifting from my lips to my eyes. "No. I- I-"

"Did it mean-" I don't know why but the words I really wanted to say stuck in my throat. I was such a coward that I couldn't even ask or tell him what sex with him really meant. I went and stood by his desk, like an idiot. I turned my head back to him. Neill was standing there, tanned, golden hair glowing, a boner stretching his near-see-through boxers to breaking strain. He had this 'What the fuck?' look on his face. 

"Did you like it..?" I asked, then let the question hang between us. I tried to smile.

Neill smirked. "What, you think I didn't..? It was the most fucking amazing-" He sat heavily on his bed. He must've heard my groan and taken it the wrong way. "Are you okay, mate?"

I sank onto the bed beside him. Even if I couldn't say that I loved him, that I was scared and that I wanted the relationship to continue, I could at least ride a bloody good wave while I had it. I ignored his last question. "I thought so, too," I whispered. My hand fell easily to his bare knee. As I looked down at what I was stroking, I could see Neill's hard-on straining hard against the elastic waistband of his shorts. 

Neill gave an exploratory kiss to my cheek, as if scared that I would tell him to stop. I ran an absent-minded hand through his hair. I was too busy staring at his navy-blue slinky-knit boxers, admiring an inch-round circle of moisture where his cock-tip would be. My mouth watered in anticipation. "I didn't think that you could get hard this many times in one day," I whispered.

He laughed. "Neither did I." He sort of sniffed the air around me, poking his nose into the side of my hot, damp shirt then coming away for air. "Man, you fucking stink, you know that?"

Even thoughts about Liam had left my mind (I did think that'd sort itself out, though.) "Yeah, I know," I said. "I'm going to go have a shower... We're cool though, right?"

Neill's next question surprised me. I hadn't even thought of it. "Can I come?"

I panicked. "What if someone hears us?" What about Liam? I hadn't seen him when I came in...

"Oh come off it, only loons like you up at this hour. Besides, the walls are as concrete as ours-"

I interrupted. "Hell yeah." 

*

There was one shitty shower on our floor with a toilet, and three separate toilets. The water pressure was not brilliant, Lord knows why since the upper floors had great body-pounding showers. Most of us preferred this shower to the others, although sometimes we sneaked up to the newly refurbished third and fourth floors of the wing with a towel and some gear. 

There were two reasons why our floor's shower was popular with our floor. First of all, it was close. Secondly, it was a darn-sight better than the dodgy communal showers on the second floor. You only went to those showers if you were desperate to get cleaned up, or you wanted a no-strings fuck. The RAs never tried to sort out what went on in there. Supposedly, there was a male communal and a female communal, but in reality, anybody went anywhere they wanted. I'd been up there a few times, but usually came back feeling a bit creeped-out and dirty if I saw other guys fuck girls while I was fucking. Somehow, it seemed different to porn, because in porn you really only hear the chick...

My mind had completely changed about everything, now that I was with Neill again. Something about him managed to draw away all the negative thoughts and overanalyses that had plagued my mind. Maybe I stopped thinking with my head. Now my heart was racing, my skin was hot and shivering. The hand that brushed his forearm as we walked was sticky with sweat. I wasn't frightened anymore; I thought I understood him and that he wanted this as much as me. I'd do anything for him. 

Neill wore a towel over his boxers. His dick had even managed to tent the heavy yellow fabric. I was itching to rip the towel off him, grab his hot meat and suck him 'til he screamed, but I waited until he shut and locked the door. I don't know who moved first, but suddenly I was being rammed against the partial wall that separated the open shower from a grotty loo. My hands were stroking roughly through Neill's hair, my head writhing to either side as if trying to escape his lips. His wet lips smeared across my mouth. I couldn't help moving my head, though I wished I could stay still. My body was blossoming heat, and my muscles were contracting in crazy ways. I bucked against him, trying to feel his entire body pressed to mine. I wanted him naked. Damn it, I wanted both of us naked. That towel had to go for a start. 




Seamus Ch. 03



I frantically scratched around his back trying to find the end to unravel his towel. Neill started to laugh against my mouth. His rocking hips shook against mine, the lump of his hard-on providing friction to my straining cock. The naughty clammy hands that had found their way under my shirt dug into my back muscles. As he pressed against me, they got squashed against the wall. We spun over to the other wall, slamming Neill against it, bodies ramming against each other, every part touching, so hot and sweaty. I kissed him hard, probing his hot mouth with my tongue. He giggled and bit me.

"Ouch, shit, man," I swore, though it really didn't hurt. Bloody towel. I abandoned trying to find the end of it (How thick do you have to be to not be able to find the end of a towel?) "What's up with the laughing?" 

Neill gave me a big, tonguey kiss before replying. I loved the way his soft lips manipulated my skin, sending shockwaves to my hard cock. "Ticklish," he smirked. He pushed away from me. "Come on, man, you gotta get some of your gear off before I take anything else off."

"Are you going to help me?" I whispered, then licked my lips.

"Nah, I'm sure a big boy like you can manage," he said, nonchalantly. "You can start with the shoes... You're so fucking hot, you know that?"

His last words would have scared the shit out of me one day ago, but now they only made me hornier. I couldn't believe that my best mate- Well, it was weird. He found me just as hot as I found him. I wrenched at the laces of my sneakers, discarded them and my soaked socks. "You're not so bad yourself," I told him, smiling back. I noticed that he was stroking the patch of towel concealing his cock. "Do you want a hand with that?"

"There'll be plenty of time for that later, bitch," Neill said. He frowned a little in response to my worried look. "Did you find that creepy..? I don't think I'll say that again." He laughed, but his laughter didn't show in his eyes. His skin seemed quite white all of a sudden, although it could have been the fluorescent lighting. Suddenly, he grabbed me aggressively, fingers grasping handfuls of my shirt. "Course I'll give you a hand." 

He stripped me of my shirt very quickly (though it did get stuck over my head for a bit), and proceeded to run his fingers down my chest, following with his hot tongue. My smell clearly didn't bother him as terribly as he said, since he managed to lick the salt and sweat from my skin. His fervent tongue traced a whisper over my chest, around my pecs, my armpits, orbiting each chiselled muscle on my abdomen. I was on fire. My skin burnt and tingled, shivering as the little muscles that would normally erect hairs contracted in a wave beneath his scorching, wet tongue. He reached my waist band and stroked his fingers over the skin above it, but did not try to remove my shorts. When I tried to, he flicked my hands away. "Just you wait," Neill said, savagely, and smirked at me. His blue eyes lit up, his cheeks glowed with happiness. He flicked his pink tongue-tip over his lips then ground them against his teeth. 

Neill nibbled his way back up my chest, fingers reaching before him like a climber on a wall. I couldn't help but cry out "Shit, man- That feels so good- Oh, man- Shit- Fuck- Neill- Arrgh-" and gurgle noises that made no sense. His teeth felt great, just pinching, drawing my skin into his mouth and getting it warm and wet. He prodded and poked me with his hot tongue then licked on. He seemed to avoid any power points that would usually turn me on, like the skin above my cock, my bellybutton and nipples. Still, I hardly wanted anything else. It just felt so fucking amazing. Finally, we were eye-to-eye (Neill's only a few inches shorter than me).

I tried to kiss Neill, but he tilted his head away. "Just wait," he whispered in my ear, then sucked the earlobe. He thumbed my nipples causing them to stiffen and burn. Jolts of pleasure shot over my skin in a wave of heat. I wondered why no-one had done this to me before; do girls just not know this stuff, even though we do it to them? My cock burned and swelled, stretching my shorts and briefs even more. He started to pinch the tips with his nails, plucking them outwards until they hardened, then rubbing them gently. More heat, mingled with slight pain. His lips suckled my neck. My moans were muffled by his hair. My pelvis trembled and I tried to rub my burning bulge against his. He pushed me away.

"Now the shorts," Neill whispered. I felt his fingers slip inside my waistband, tugging the elastic downwards, and causing my cock to be pressed down as well. He left the waistband pushing down my cock, so it tried to stick out on a horizontal angle. The pressure caused by both the band and the stretched fabric of briefs and shorts was excruciating; not exactly painful, but the sort of force that made me feel like I was just about to cum, but somehow couldn't burst over the edge. My hands reached down to release my aching cock, but he batted them away. "Leave it," he snapped. "Just wait." I growled in frustration.

He passed his hand lightly over the fabric encasing my cock, giving only enough pressure for me to know that the fabric was moving. It wasn't nearly enough. I lost control. I couldn't help it. My hands ripped at his towel, fingers roughly gripping his hard package through his slippery, soaked boxers. I pulled Neill to me, loving the hot trembling flesh in my fist. We kissed hard and fast, sweaty muscles slipping against each other, creating a heat that seemed only destined for our cocks. Neill's fingers reached inside my shorts and pressed against the fabric of my briefs. I was shuddering like crazy, head tilted away from his hot mouth, moaning to him to fuck me.

Neill dropped to his knees, dragging my shorts down to my ankles. He let me kick them off whilst he sucked the tensed inside of my thighs. He moved up to my briefs, which were transparent with precum and nearly ripping from the stress my hard cock was placing on them. His hot breath felt comparatively cold to my sizzling groin. He flicked his sweat-sticky fingers down the backs of my legs, working on muscle knots as well as any physio. His face was right against my briefs, but all he did was blow on me. I prickled and shook some more. My hands guided his face further forwards.

I gasped as he licked the steamy fabric over my cockhead. When I tried to take the briefs off, Neill swatted my hands away. He continued to lick and suck the soaked fabric and the bulges beneath, drawing precum out of the fabric and breathing it into his mouth. "Shit-" I gasped. "Shite- Please- Neill, God- Fuck me-" I had to lean against the wall again; there was no way my knees would support me. 

Neill's feverish fingers scraped down my wet briefs, and flung them to the side, so that they slapped the wall. Those few seconds gave me a little relief. Not for long, though. He gripped my shaft, directing me to his hot mouth. He licked and nibbled all the way around bulging red head, drinking in the strings of precum that would otherwise run over his fingers. I looked down, and he did something really dirty. Withdrawing my cock from just inside his lips, along with a thread of clear saliva, he rubbed the sensitive head first across his lips, then over each cheek. 

His face was- Well, it was his face-! My best friend was rubbing my cock all over his face, getting all shiny with spit and precum. I couldn't believe it. My eyes must've been on stalks. The rest of my body was shaking like it had electricity running over the skin. All my trembling hands could do was hold onto his sweaty blonde head. His breathing seemed all fucked up like mine. After a few seconds he groaned, "Do you like this... or is it freaking you out?"

Neill's hand tightened fractionally around my cock, but it felt like I was getting squeezed. I moaned a little, liking the extra pressure. "Hell... yeah," was all I could get out.

He laughed. "Cool, we're on the same wavelength." He nuzzled my cock a little harder, smearing me over his lips to get wet, then grazing me across his skin. I now have in memory the image of my best mate with my cock mashed into his face with precum dribbling down his cheeks (something that I'll never stop dreaming about).. I could feel the prickle of his stubble, the padding of flesh on his cheeks, the slightly greasy, sweaty texture of his skin brush against my hypersensitive tip. My body was exploding with heat. Every muscle in my body was tensing in preparation to blow cum all over that hot face of his. I tried to hold back, but couldn't keep it up much longer. 

"Please-" I moaned. "I don't want to cum yet- Please- Neill, shit-"

It hurt, trying to hold off orgasm; it made me even more aroused, on edge, under tough pressure. I survived a gentle lick as he released me. Then I just slid down the shower wall, gasping and convulsing as my muscles relaxed. It felt like I had cum, but there was no spunk, and my cock was still hard. It was wet with precum and spittle, with a bulging plum coloured head and a burning red shaft. Not as super-sized as the night before, more it's usual size - quite thick and long by most standards. I had to change position. I stretched my legs in front of me and leant back a little, since I couldn't bear anything touching my tingling, sore cock. 

Neill sank down beside me. He lightly stroked my shoulder as I lolled against him. When he was satisfied that I was breathing normally, he spoke. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"What?" I murmured.

"Thinking your coming and then stopping it," Neil said. He laughed and shoved me away. "That's for what you did last night, when you did whatever fucked up thing you did to stop me coming."

"Ow, man, that hurt," I replied, in semi-mock pain. "Sorry."

"Still felt bloody good though, didn't it?"

"Yeah. Fucking amazing. But you- You are so bloody dirty or kinky or something."

Neill flopped his face back, head hitting the vinyled shower wall. His brown-blonde hair was pushed back off his face, except one strand, which he blew away. "I hope that's a fucking compliment," he snorted.

"I think it is," I said.

We just sat there, naked, erections reaching to the ceiling. If we had clothes on, this would pretty much be our position in our room if we were tired, talking shit or drinking. I couldn't think of anything to say or do; I felt smashed.

Neill suddenly said, "Anyone ever complain you cum too soon?"

"I do not!" I snapped.

He laughed. "Yeah, you do."

"You didn't complain last night- and at least I warned you that I was on the edge."

"You just changed the subject," Neill said. 

"I did not!" I saw that he was about to laugh, probably because my protests all sounded the same. "Geez, if you were under the same fucking pressure, you would too." I grabbed his hair, forcing his lips to mine. Of course, Neill didn't object. His fingers played my shoulders, our hips sort of turned over each other. I flinched as our cocks brushed. Then I pushed him away. "Just you wait," I whispered and smiled evilly.

"Oh come on, Seamus!" Neill protested as I got up. I don't know what he thought I was doing, but I certainly did. I turned the shower on. Of course, it was cold, as all showers are until they heat up. In fact, because they use artesian water in the Hall, it was bloody fucking freezing. "Oh, fuck! Seamus, you shit!" Neill swore, as he was drenched. His hair, now looking brown, was all forward across his face. I nearly pissed myself with laughter. He got up, nearly slipped, and dragged me under the water with him.

"Shite," I moaned. Even though the water-pressure sucked, there was still enough water to saturate me. Neill shoved me under the shower-rose. Stupidly, I was swearing at the time, and my eyes were open. It was so cold, like bottled water from the fridge. I struggled to get out of the stream. My hands and body slid easily over Neill's, every part feeling oiled. I forced him over against the wall, so that the spray was only on our feet. "That was fucking mean," I gasped.

Neill flicked water in my face from the tips of his fingers. "And who started it?"

I decided not to reply. I didn't have a come-back to that. Luckily, the water seemed to be heating up; steam was rising, making the lights look hazy. I looked down. We were both still rock hard. If anything, that cold splash would slow us down a little, which might be a good thing. We moved under the stream again.

Neill wrapped his arms behind my back, enveloping me in a hot, slick hug. There was no friction at all between our bodies. I loved how I could feel his muscles tense and release beneath the skin. The way his thorax pushed outwards when he breathed. Even his rapid, pounding heartbeat (although, that could have been mine and I just got confused). It felt as though my skin was much more sensitive to anything that touched it. "Mmmm," I heard Neill moan. Our cocks touched, slippery and hot, pressed in against our abs. Shockwaves were already shooting through me again. 

We clashed against each other, bodies straining hard, lips, tongues, teeth, everything, contacting each other's flesh. I slammed Neill into the wall and grabbed his veiny cock, stroking as hard as I could. "Uh-" I heard him splutter. "Uh, oh God-" I could hear his breathing hiss in and out in small puffs. "Shit." His head rocked backwards, eyes to the ceiling, then dropped over my right shoulder. His mouth pulled hard on the little bit of flesh above my shoulder bone. He bit down a little, then harder, still sucking and tonguing the skin in his mouth. It was enough to make me release his shaft, as I fought the waves of pleasure rippling through me. 

"That hurt?" Neill asked. He looked a little worried.

I shook my head. "Nah." I bent my head and sucked his nipple into my mouth. I lightly chewed the hard nub. Neill moaned.

"That hurt?" I asked him.

"God, no," he whispered.

I smiled through the water streaming down my face. My hands stroked his cock a little more gently, mimicking the way he was treating my meat. I got a bit of a shock when I looked down. He was so long, probably two inches longer than me. What did that make him? 9, even perhaps 10 inches. Fucking freakish porn-star shit. 

"Shit," I whispered. I hadn't actually thought about his length at all, other than comparing it to mine. I'd swallowed it all right, but how would it go in my arse? Also, the split mushroom of his head looked to be 2 inches across, although he narrowed further down. I kept rubbing his head between my thumb and forefinger, the other hand around his meaty base. He was so wet and hot. I fiddled with his foreskin, stretching it out and pulling it back. My fingertips manipulated the underside of his cock, where there's this bit where the head joins shaft, that makes my whole body jolt when I play with it. 

Neill took me, and I was thicker than that, I realized. Plus the added length of his cock would mean that there was more inside me being touched... Just thinking about it drove me mad.

We were both groaning by then. The water supplied a steady hot stream rippling onto our bodies, bouncing and dripping off onto other parts. The water smoothed our skins, lubricated our bodies. It made me completely hot and wet all over, like it was a sex organ itself. I went back to nibbling Neill's hairy chest, which took some of my attention away from his cock. But not for long. 

Soon I was down on my knees, avoiding his cock and probing his crack with my tongue. He still tasted like musk and cum, a flavor which I drank in the water that ran off his buttocks. From the way he was standing, even though his legs were quite far apart, I couldn't get my mouth to his shithole. The fingers of my left hand could, though. I allowed my wet fingertips to massage the rim of his tight anus, whilst my tongue retreated to his balls. I nibbled his sack a little. At the same time, I could feel myself growing hotter and harder. My cockhead burnt against my wet abs. I was so caught up in what I was doing that Neill's groans of, "Shit," and "Fuck," and "Oh yeah..." didn't really sink in. Still, I did feel his hands on my head, pulling my hair and directing my hand and mouth to his dripping, scorching cock.

I expected to be able to take him all at once, as I had before, but that didn't happen straight away. It took a lot of gagging and coughing. I pulled back after a few attempts and mouthed down each side of his cock, plucking him hard with my lips. The hot water ensured that he was always warm and wet. "Suck my cock, man," Neill gasped. "Please- Ahhh yeah..." My mouth slurped his head. I sucked a little of him in, then bobbed back, each time taking a further inch. When I was about half way along, he forced my mouth along his extra length as far as I could go. I choked, I thought I couldn't breathe. He was so thick that I felt like my throat was being closed off by his throbbing cockhead. I tried to spit out, but Neill wouldn't let me. The air that was coming through my nose wasn't enough. I was scared that I'd breathe water into my lungs. Why was this so hard, when last night it was easy?

"It's okay, it's okay," Neill whispered. He didn't try to press in any further, but didn't let me move back either. "Just keep swallowing. It'll be fine."

Hot, dilute spit had pooled in my mouth and started to dribble over my lips. It was thicker than the shower water and seemed to stick to my skin. I took Neill's advice and swallowed, clearing some of the fluid from my mouth, but not really moving him. My tongue pressed his shaft hard against the roof of my mouth in rhythmic waves. I sucked in, swallowed some more. His head was completely slippery. I forced my mouth forward and felt him curve over the soft, then hard back of my tight, hot throat. My moans caused his cock to vibrate in my mouth. I can only imagine how good that felt.

I pulled away a little, then pressed my nose back against his slick, sweaty pubes. I'd stopped gagging. I loved his hot, huge cock, and the noises of appreciation he made as he fucked my face, faster and faster. His balls slapped against my chin, his shaft burnt friction against my lips. At the same time, I forced two wet fingers into his tight arsehole, fucking him back in an erratic motion.

We didn't keep it up long. I didn't want Neill to cum before he'd fucked my arse. I was sure I'd be missing out on something if he did.

I spat him from my mouth. "You've gotta fuck me, man," I growled. Shit, it felt surreal that we were doing any of this. All those sweaty nights, half awake, just wondering what it would be like, but not thinking that it would ever, ever happen. I guess I didn't think that I would really be able to do it, that it would really turn me on like this. I thought fucking Neill was just one of those things in your mind that you think, 'shit, that sounds hot,' but the actual practice of it would be completely horrible, and definitely not arousing. Goddamn it, I was wrong. Now that I knew what it was like to fuck him, there was no way anything he did to me could turn me off.

Neill's reply was a feral sounding grunt. He wrenched me from me knees and rammed me against the wall under the shower-rose, thrusting at me with his hips, so our hard-ons clashed in shots of heat. All I could do was moan into his mouth, no even able to kiss him back. 

"Just wait a sec," Neill told me. He left me heaving for air whilst he stepped out of the shower. I slumped against the cold corner. My slick hair dripped water into my eyes. The sight of his hot body was slightly obscured as I blinked the water away. Still, what I saw was just as arousing as the first time I saw him naked after a shower, months back. His hair, dark with water, reached just to the knobbly joint where the neck joins the shoulders. The locks beaded, sending small rivulets of water to join those already flowing down the furrow of his back. His shoulder and upper-back muscles flexed powerfully beneath his tanned skin, smoothing into the longer, streamlined muscles of his back. His butt was muscular, and sort of rounded, pale in comparison to his tan. It dimpled and stretched as he walked. As he leant over to pull something from the handful of clothing he had brought, I saw his balls bob between his legs. His cheeks parted, exposing his tiny pink hole to my eyes. I still couldn't believe that my fat cock had fitted in there. I made me worry a little about what he had in store for me.




Seamus Ch. 03



Neill was carrying a clear bottle with some sort of yellowish liquid in it. "What's that?" I asked, as he joined me in the steam.

"Oh, you remember that shit Jill won?" he laughed.

"Which shit?" I asked. (Jill seems to have a knack for winning things, probably because she enters every sweepstake she can.)

He waved the bottle in my face, 'Rose's Massage Oil'. "That kit she got with all those face creams and make-up shit for men."

I laughed. It was a bit of a standing joke. "Would that be Radio Live's Metrosexual giveaway?"

Neill nodded. "She palmed a lot of it off onto Greg, but some of it ended up in our room... Want to use it up?"

"Right," I said, with a smirk.

"Should work just like lube," Neill said. "And guess what?"

"It's 'rose-scented'," I read from the back label. We both laughed as he opened the bottle and squirted some on my chest. "Mmmm, so flowery," I said, with a sniff. I couldn't help but take the piss, 'cos there's no way either of us would normally use anything that smelt like roses (that's how 'straight' we were; always scared of what other people would think, I guess.) It didn't smell half-bad, and the oily texture felt great on my skin. I got some on my hands and rubbed him up, paying special attention to his red bulging cock and hairy ball sac.

Neill massaged my chest, my prick, between my legs, so that the water now skimmed over me rather than sticking. He turned me around and did my back as well. His fingers were bloody magic, not too light, nor hard enough to be painful, just enough to penetrate each muscle and give it a good workout. He ironed out knots I didn't even know I had. At the same time, I felt his fat cockhead pressing into the curve of my lower back. As great as the massage felt, all my frantic mind could think about was having that burning shaft push through my virgin hole. "Oh, man," I moaned. "Fuck me- Please, just fuck me-"

"All in good time." Neill kissed the base of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. This was nothing compared to the jolts I felt as his oily palms pressed into my buttocks, swirling up my back and then down again so that his fingertips flicked over the sensitive place between my balls and arsehole. He allowed one hand to linger between my legs, lightly brushing the smooth skin of my balls. The other hand reached for the oil. He drizzled more of the cold liquid down my lower back so that it dripped into my crease.

"Urgh," I groaned. One of his fingers had slipped between my cheeks, guiding the oil down to my arsehole. He used one hand to hold my buttocks apart while he squirted more oil directly over my tight hole. The intense flow on my sensitive pucker caused me to flinch and gasp. I heard the clonk of the bottle dropping to the shower floor. My body jerked as Neill's fingertip pressed into me. The tip of my prick slid against the cold shower-wall. 

"It's all right," he whispered. His finger continued to thrust into my hot, tight hole. I really wasn't concerned about it, he'd already fingered me before, with incredible results. It was just that everything he touched had me rippling with pleasure, and I couldn't control the movement my body made in response. I pushed back slightly, forcing his second knuckle past my sphincter.

"Oh God," I murmured. "Fuck my virgin arse... Please fuck me hard..."

Neill countered the catch in his breath by stabbing another finger into me, circling the two inside my hole. I writhed and moaned like some slutty girl. His other hand pulled my hips back quite a bit, so that I was supporting myself more on my arms than my legs and my hips and back were angled. I was worried 'cos I couldn't rub my cock against the wall anymore. As if reading my mind, Neill laughed. "The only way you're getting off is by my rod fucking your arse."

I could easily have pushed back into the shower-side, but I didn't want to. I wanted this cum to be just from Neill's long cock splitting my virgin channel. "Get on with it then, man," I moaned. "Fuck my arse." I didn't realize that as I spoke, he had already lined his fat head up, ready to burst into me as soon as his fingers retreated. 

Suddenly I felt this huge, hot thing, stretching my tiny anus. Jolts of pain shot through me. My body tensed, face creased, lips bitten so I would not scream. Neill thrust further into me and my agony increased. A whine crept from my throat. My skin seemed to prickle with pinpoints of pain. "Relax mate," I heard him whisper. 'Easy for you to say,' I thought. I felt sorry for all the girls I had ever given anal. How the fuck could he have enjoyed this torture?

Neill's fingertips brushed across my chest, one hand rubbing a mixture of oil and hot water into my nibbles, the other stroking my cock. I moaned as pleasure mingled with the pain. I must have relaxed a little, since I experienced a sudden stab of pain as his thick knob slid past my tight entrance. Suddenly, it felt a bit better. My sphincter was still stretched wide around his ridged shaft, but not as wide as it had been before. 

He was gasping in my ear, as if feeling the same pain as I was. "Fuck, you're so tight. Push down a bit, ease yourself open..."

I rolled my head to the right, so that I could almost see his face behind me in the corner of my eye. The change of position caused the water that had been hitting my head to hit my collarbones, gushing on to my prickly nipples, and down to my engorged cock. The shock caused me to jump, forcing his cock further inside me. My whole body throbbed with the pain of my stretched anal muscles. "What do you mean?" I groaned, as my cock tingled in delight, like it enjoyed the pain.

"It feels like you're all jammed up... Push like you're taking a shit-"

"Argh!" I pushed down as he eased himself further into me. His pole felt slippery and hot, but my arse still resisted the invasion. My abs tensed as I fought to expand my channel. Neill was right, it did ease the pressure; I suppose he had figured that out when I couldn't get inside of him.

He pulled back and pushed in again, going a little deeper this time. My hole pulsed with heat. "How much of you is in there?" I grunted.

"Less than half," Neill said.

"What?" My surprise gave him a chance to force a few more inches inside me. He thrust in and out to loosen me a little more. His hand continued to play my cock, shooting waves of pleasure through my body, until I was shaking back against his chest, pulling myself up almost straight then moving down again. Slowly, I began to realize that most of the pain had passed. I could feel his hot, thick knob and shaft moving easily in my burning rectum. "How much now?" I moaned.

Neill's chest hair rubbed against my back as he bent forwards to tongue my ear. "Nearly there," he whispered. His pace increased. My pelvis started to move against his, thrusting down as he pressed up, forcing more of him into me. The friction of his throbbing cock rubbing against every sensitive place in my tight hole made me moan. My own cock, neglected now that Neill's hands had moved to my hips, burned against my abdomen. I didn't need his touch there anymore; the pressure of his scorching cock inside was enough to keep me unbelievably aroused. 

"Harder," I grunted. "Fuck me harder. Split my arse- Uh- Ugh- Uh-" I felt electricity shoot through my veins. My heart skipped several beats. I guessed that this angle was right for massaging my prostate. This was nothing like the pleasant sensation I got from a fingering during a blowjob. My whole body was trembling. I think I saw flashes of color. It felt incredible. 

My best mate was fucking my arse and I loved it. I loved him.

Every movement caused my stretched ring to burn, but this was soothed almost immediately by the hot water dripping down my back. I pushed my butt down to split myself further open as Neill's huge pole thrust back and forth inside me. I felt his balls slapping mine as he upped the tempo. He speared deep inside me, causing my abdomen to vibrate and twinge with pain. He pulled out almost completely before returning to that point, the pain receding as his fat cockhead massaged my velvety insides into tremors of pleasure. My expanding cock wept down my abs and onto my tight balls. I babbled out a stream gasped words that made no sense. "Fuck me- Shite- Harder- Oh, God, Neill- You're so good- Fuck me- Fuck me open- Neill- Neill- Yeah- That's good, man- Poke me with your long cock- Harder- Argh- Shit- Fuck me-" 

I heard similar words spitting from Neill's lips. "Oh, man, you're so tight- You're so fucking tight- I'm going to loosen you up- Gonna fuck that virgin hole- Gonna shoot cum up you- You did to me- Dirty boy- You love this don't you?- So hot- Go faster- Fuck, Seamus- Tight arse- My cock's splitting you open- Seamus- Oh God, Seamus-" He moaned on and on as his pole rammed into me. We were going faster and faster. The friction scorched through my bowels, burning through to my drooling shaft. My butt muscles bounced off his thighs, feeling the prickle of his hairs and the flexion of his muscles. The movement caused my rectum to clench and release around Neill's slippery pole, increasing the erratic catch in his breathing.

"Uh- Uh-" Neill grunted. He slowed our thrusting right down, rotating his hips so that his cock ground against every surface in my tight hole. I countered by squeezing myself closed, and tilting my hips to crush his cock with my pubic bones. "Urgh," Neill moaned. "Shit man- I'm gonna-" 

"Gonna what?" I gasped. I released my muscles and started to move fast against him, fucking myself on his cock. His hands flinched and trembled on the thick, sweaty muscles above my hips.

"Gonna-" 

"Gonna what, man?" I could tell by the way his cock seemed to expand and vibrate in my arse that he was close to the edge. "You gonna cum before me?"

"Seamus, you shit," he grumbled. Neill's wet hand grabbed my shaft and started to jack me hard. The assault on both my hole and my cock had me hot and quivering all over. Violent shockwaves shot through me. I convulsed in pleasure. My skin prickled with cold despite the hot water pounding off my back. 

Neill pushed into me and held his whole length within. He began to jerk in my sizzling, snug hole. "Admit it-" I groaned. "You're- Argh!" His cock blew a load of semen inside me. The intensity of the explosion forced cum deep into my tight bowels, far further than his embedded cocktip. "Oh- Shit-" It was so hot, shooting through me. Neill pulled back a little, his cock still blasting and quaking. I felt cum press down around his shaft, lubricating to reduce the friction of his movement.

"Oh, man- Oh, fuck-" Neill gasped again and again. His fingers slipped around my shaft, squeezing hard and releasing me with each wave of his orgasm. I couldn't help but cry out, I was so close.

"Neill," I moaned. He had started to ream me again, spreading warm cum all along my burning channel. My knees were beginning to bend. I could hardly take the trembling fire that was shooting through my groin.

His arm slotted beneath my outstretched arms, elbow locking him to my chest. He forced me to stand upright, causing my rectum to tighten around him. His long rod completely filled me at this sharp angle. I moaned as I felt his hard nipples and damp chest hair prickle against my back. The shower water shot hot needles at my tensed face. Neill walked me back, balls swinging against mine, so that the water was aimed at my trembling cock. "Holy shit, Neill," I gasped as both of his hands began to play my length.

I thrashed, forcing his prick to move inside me, contacting every sensitive nerve inside my tight hole. Hot and cold shot over my body. I rolled my head back and growled. His hot mouth and tongue stroked my sensitive neck. "Cum for me," Neill whispered.

"Uh-" I moaned.

His fingers massaged my meat harder. "Cum for me, Seamus," Neill said, again.

I couldn't stop myself anymore. The heat of the water caused my sensitive cockhead to throb. His hands pushed me further, seemingly drawing cum out of me. And the cock in my arse, added incredible, pleasant pressure. "Argh- Uh- Ugh-" I gasped. My body jolted as semen pulsed out of my cock. "Argh- God, Neill..." I moaned, as more and more hot, thick juice blasted onto my chest, quickly washed away by the shower's streaming water. He continued to rub me, using watery cum as a lubricant. He slowly humped his prick in and out of my spasming fuckhole, causing further hot cum to spurt through his fingers.

As I continued to moan, Neill slowed down his hands and pelvis, until finally he stopped altogether. He wrapped his arms around my chest and slumped his head over my left shoulder. "Okay," he murmured. "You win."

"Win what?" I asked. Both of our cocks had begun to soften. I could feel less pressure and heat in my rectum now. I was sort of sad and glad at the same time. Sad, because now that I'd felt him fuck me, I wanted to do it all the time. Glad, because there was no way I would have the energy to do it again and get through a whole day, including rugby practice that night.

Neill laughed. "I was trying to wind you up... You don't cum too soon, mate." He kissed my cheek and started to pull from me.

His cockhead was still wider than his shaft, and took a little more pressure to remove. When it did slither from my burning arsehole, I heard a satisfying sloppy 'pop' noise. "Mmmm..." I said as I turned off the water. I kicked the bottle of oil off the silver hole in the floor so that the water could flow away. "We'll have to thank Jill."

Neill was toweling himself off. He stopped when I spoke. "For what?"

I picked the bottle up, flicked the lid shut, and chucked it to him. "The oil," I said.

Neill gave me a strange look. He started to put on a gray-blue shirt. The cuffs were buttoned, so it took a bit of forcing to get his hands through the sleeves. "We're not telling Jill," he told me.

"I hardly think she'd care-" I began, but he cut across me.

"Damn it Seamus, you're not telling anyone. It's just you and me," Neill snapped. "We're not fucking gay, we're not fucking telling anyone."

I turned away. I didn't want to look at him anymore. The violence of his words shook me to the core. I had clearly read him completely wrong. He hadn't wanted me to come home because he was worried about me 'freaking out'. He had wanted me to come back so he could have another fuck. Now I was no use to him. He didn't care about me. He wasn't my best mate. I pulled on a pair of trackies and a polo shirt, and was about to leave when Neill grabbed me.

I could have easily broken his grip if I wanted to, but I let him maintain it, just struggling enough to let him know that I didn't want him touching me. "Seamus, please-" he said. I couldn't look at him; maybe I'd start crying or bash his face in, I don't know. "Look at me!" he hissed.

Something about the way he spoke made me look at him. I was kind of shocked by what I saw. He was crying. "It's one hell-of-a-lot to take in, man," he whispered. "I didn't think that- It's fucking scary, okay?"

I gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. "Is scary," I said. "I don't- Well, I don't really want anyone to know either."

Neill laughed slightly. "Our dirty little secret then?"

"Okay-"

There was a bang at the door. Damn it, people were always banging on doors around here. A man's voice, "Would you hurry the fuck up, some of us have places to be."

"Shit," I swore. My eyes flicked to Neill's. There was no way out besides the door. "What the fuck are we gonna do?" I hissed.

"Just fuck off and give me a chance to get dressed," Neill yelled out. "Go upstairs if you're so fucking desperate."

"It's a ten dollar fine for talking to a senior hall member like that," the voice said. Liam. Shit. I still think that the fucker must have been following us around.

"Sorry," Neill replied, a little more quietly. "I'm still getting dressed. Why don't you go upstairs for a shower?"

Liam's voice became harsh. "Listen to me, Neill Simmons, either you get out of there right now, or I go and get the master key and unlock the door myself."

"I'm still getting dressed," Neill protested. We were both pulling on as much clothing as we could. Despite there being no way of getting out of this situation, we weren't going to be caught naked. "Gimme a bit more time."

"Well, just hurry up. I've got a gym appointment in half an hour."

I rolled my eyes at Neill. "Usually people have a shower after they go to the gym."

"What the fuck are we going to do?" Neill whispered. "He's not going to go away, is he?"

After less than a minute had passed, Liam banged on the door again. "Are you dressed yet?"

"There's nothing for it," I hissed. "We're going to have to just go and hope like hell no-one else is up."

Neill pursed his lips. He inhaled then exhaled slowly. "Fuck it then." I stood back as he unlocked the door and pushed his way past Liam.

Liam was still dressed in the too-big pajamas I had seen him in earlier that morning. He had this cruel, victorious snarl on his face. His dark eyes narrowed as he saw me. "Look at that," he said. "Two fags in a shower. You better have cleaned it."

Neill bolted. He didn't stop to look at me or get his towel or anything. He was halfway down the hallway before I had registered that he'd left me to pick up the shit. "Go to hell," I told Liam.

I stooped to pick up Neill's gear. As I did so, Liam whispered, "Like having his arse poked, does he?"

The muscles in my neck tightened. I would have let it drop with a verbal comeback, if he hadn't repeated himself, starting with, "Didn't you hear me-" Before I knew what I was doing, Liam's head had knocked into the opposite wall. I rammed him there, fist around his throat. "You say another fucking word and I'll kick you into next month," I barked.

'He can't do anything,' flashed through my mind as I contemplated putting another fist in his stomach. 'What's he going to do? No-one'll believe him... If you do this, you'll be the one in trouble.' I took a deep breath and released my grip. I picked up Neill's stuff and left.

Liam spluttered a little, then called after me, "It's a twenty dollar fine, per person, for indecent acts in a Common Area. Expect an invoice by tonight."

*

Neill was going nuts when I got back to the room. He paced up and down, kicking things and repeating, "What the fuck are we going to do? What the fuck are we going to do?"

He pushed me away when I tried to hold him. "Jesus, Seamus, what the fuck are we going to do? He knows...!"

I sat on my bed and took a few breaths. "You should sit down for a minute," I said. "Just slow down a bit."

Neill's mouth arced in a strange curve as he stopped and faced me. The skin beneath and between his eyes was creased with worry. Still watching me, he sank onto the floor in a fetal position, leaning against his bed. His face dropped onto his arms, wet hair flicking forward to cover any exposed skin. "What are we going to do?" he whispered. "He'll tell everyone... I can't do this, I can't."

I shifted over and sat down beside him. I pulled him in so that his head leant on my knees. My hand stroked his hair. "Who do you think'll believe him?" I asked. "Everyone knows he's a psycho. He says that to anyone and they'll back us up, probably give him a hiding to go with it."

Neill didn't reply.

"Come on," I said. "You really think Harry and Greg, or Nate, or Kev or any of the guys will actually listen to him?" I smiled a little, remembering something Kev had said the day before. "We've got half the bloody female population of the hall to back us up. Liam can't do anything to us. He can't hurt us." How ironic that statement seems now...

After that, Neill did calm down. We kissed and talked logically for a bit, then talked shit like we normally did. We ate some muesli bars that my coach had said were good for energy for breakfast. Then we got our stuff together and went out to lectures.




Seamus Ch. 03



*

I was half an hour early to rugby practice. I usually am, so that I can have a longer warm-up time. After several injuries over the seasons before, my physio had recommended that I do this or face more torn ligaments, tendons and muscles, and some painful surgery. I swiped my access card at the changing rooms and entered. Someone else had dumped stuff on one of the benches, but I hadn't seen them around the park. It didn't phase me; often guys leave their gear overnight, since it's only us that has access to the room, it's pretty safe. 

I pulled on my shin-guards and my long woolen socks, striped in the university colors. I put my box on – most guys don't bother at practice, but after seeing a guy on Dad's team lose a testicle, I was not taking any chances. Then my shorts, my practice shirt. I tied my bootlaces and headed out to the field. 

As always, I did a slow lap to warm myself up, then returned to the front of the grandstand to start my stretching regime. I was doing a typical calf stretch when something hit me from behind. I didn't even have time to turn around before the next punch to the small of my back. My attacker was very strong. He dragged me back my shirt and slammed me to the ground, stabbing his boots into my side. I rolled over in time to see a boot hurtling for my face. Lucky for me, I was fast enough to grab the leg and stop it, unbalancing my attacker at the same time.

His face hit the grass. "Fucking fag," I heard him yell. He swiveled onto his back, kicking out with his feet, the nubs on the bottom of his boots cutting into my face. Blood spilt from my left eyebrow. I forced his legs down and punched him a couple of times in the soft part of his stomach. His hands clawed the front of my shirt, pulling me back down with him. He pushed me into the ground.

Liam kicked me again as he got to his feet. I dragged myself up by the back of his shirt and rammed him into the grandstand wall. He spun and I avoided his punch. My own fist struck his hard cheekbone, then his lip, and he spat blood down his front. I blinked to clear my sticky blood from my left eye. He struck me in the chest – he was too short to get to my face. We grappled and ended up on the ground again.

Somehow he managed to momentarily pin me, face down in the muddy grass. "You like that fag, you like that?" I heard Liam grunt. To be honest, I wasn't all that scared (I'm a lot bigger than he is), until I felt his hard cock rubbing into my back. At first I thought I must have imagined it, but when he did it again, this time grinding his hips down as well, I really freaked out. I clawed the ground and rolled, forcing him into his back. About thirty seconds later, the coach and half the team arrived to find me towering over Liam, my fists pounding his chest.

A few guys cheered, but mostly they were just trying to pull us apart. Liam was still kicking, punching and spilling blood as Nathan and two other guys towed him away. I guess I was no better. It's all a blur. What was clear, however, was that the war had started...

*

I couldn't believe it. Coach had kicked me off the team. Next to my Dad and Neill and Jill, rugby was probably one of the best things I had in my life. My degree program was a sham, everything had always been about building myself up, increasing my skill, so that one day, yeah, I'd be on an international side. It was a big dream, but I was damn sure I could do it. And Liam had taken that away from me. And from my Dad. 

Running through my head was how Dad was coming to see me play in the finals. I hadn't seen him in two years and I knew that he could hardly afford to get all the way here to watch me. Now, that money would be wasted. He would never see how much I had improved. I didn't want to disappoint him like that, especially over some stupid, fucked up fight. I would never be able to explain to him why the fight had happened. God, I didn't even know myself.

I felt so dirty and scared about what Liam had done. I just didn't get it at all. I sat parked up on the side of the road, crying my eyes out, blood and tears all over my shirt. He had a hard-on, what the fuck was up with that? Why had he done that to me? What would he have done if there was no-one else there? I thought how I must've baited him, and blamed myself for everything. Why had I let any of this stuff happen?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

*

I couldn't really put into words how I felt when I got to my room. Jill was there, practically sitting in Neill's lap, as they went through his textbooks. She was doing thesis work on something to do with the psychology of the way women are treated by society, and was trying to find some sort of biological explanation to add to her work. I think that's what they were doing anyway. Neill had her hand in her silky hair, she had her face so close that they could have been kissing. They didn't jump apart like people that have been caught at it, and Jill has always been one of those touchy people, so I didn't read too much into it. Still, I felt incredibly jealous, like I was the third world and didn't count for shit, especially after what had just happened to me.

Jill was the first to look up. "Holy Fuck," she swore. "What happened to you?" She rushed across the room to take my bag of gear, which she dropped on the floor, then guided me to sit on my bed. Her blue eyes flickered with worry under their dark layers of cosmetics. Before I knew it, she had one hand on my chin to tilt my head in the light. The other hand brushed my dark hair off my forehead as she examined my war wounds.

"Got kicked off the team," I whispered. I made eye contact with Neill. He was very pale all of a sudden. He didn't have to say anything, he knew who I had fought with.

"Over a fight?" Jill exploded. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," I muttered.

I really had wanted Neill to come with me to the Emergency Department, but it was Jill that did. Neill said he had work to do and didn't want to come. I only needed a few stitches, I was a big boy, I could handle it. Still, Jill was good. She chattered her way through the two hour wait for assessment, flirted with the student doctor who did the stitches, and held my shaking hand while I screamed with a closed mouth (As I said, I don't do pain). She really helped lift my spirits, and didn't push me to elaborate on details that I didn't want to share, like who I had fought with and why.

*

Later, I lay on my bed and talked to Neill. 

"I hope he looks worse than you do," Neill said.

"I'd be surprised if he can walk straight," I replied. I told him everything, including the scariest bit, Liam's erection. At that point, Neill got really angry and started talking about how we were going to make him pay. I wish we'd stopped and actually thought about what we were doing. Things were escalating way out of control. Of course, an act of war is usually accompanied by a retaliation. That retaliation is usually far worse than the original act itself... I can never thank Jill enough for pulling me through the time after the retaliation, when I had lost everything I cared for... 



Seamus Ch. 04



Author's notes: Thanks to all that have sent me anonymous and public feedback about this series. I like to know whether what I'm writing rings true and what people really think.

*

I spent the night being woken every hour by torchlight in my eyes, as Neill checked to see if my pupils dilated evenly, to ensure I didn't have a brain injury. At 4 a.m., we decided I was okay and gave up on it. The next time I awoke, I could see triangles of muted light coming through the curtains of our high windows (our room was below ground level). I figured it must be around 6 a.m. I lay there for a minute, wondering why my limbs and head felt so heavy, my torso so tight. I wasn't really in pain until I tried to roll over. I gasped as my muscles spasmed, volts of pain shooting all over my body.

"You alright, man?" Neill hissed, sounding concerned. He was in his own bed. "You awake?"

"Yeah," I groaned.

"You okay? Did they do x-rays and shit at ED? Want me to check your eyes again?"

"Nah, I'm fine. They looked me over pretty good." I tried to get myself comfortable again. The pain didn't want to go away. I'd been warned not to take anything for eight hours in case it messed my head, though I guessed about twelve had passed since the fight. "How long have you been awake?"

I heard Neill roll over, probably to face me, but I couldn't see him from my back. "Ages. Couldn't get back to sleep after last time I torched you." he said. "Thinking, I guess."

"About?"

"What we should do to get the fucker back," Neill spat.

The fury in his retort surprised me. He seemed angrier about all this than I was. I guess I was still in shock. "I don't think we should do anything," I said. "Coach is putting me before the Disciplinary Board. It'll look worse for me if I go in for round two."

"Not if Liam doesn't say anything."

"Oh, come on man, he'll whine. It already looks like my fault anyway; by the time everyone arrived, I was sitting on him and punching his lights out. It looks like I was picking on him 'cos he was short or something, 'cos I'm heaps bigger-"

"And that other shit he pulled?"

"Then they'll say I'm a homophobe as well! Couldn't take him making a pass so I bashed the shit out of him. Or he'll deny it. There's no point trying to say anything." I took a few deep breaths and sat up, wincing as my muscles contracted, but trying to hide the pain from Neill. 

I heard Neill take a sharp intake of breath. "You're right. They won't believe you, next to him, so fucking perfect." He sat up too, and stared at me through the morning gloom. "Shit, you look like shit, mate."

"I'm fine," I lied. Seeing Neill diverted my mind so that I forgot some of the pain. He looked so- I won't say cute, that's too girly, and hot doesn't fit either. He just took my breath away. How you can feel like that about your best mate, I don't know, I just did. I'm not even sure when it started, but often when I looked at him my heart would miss a beat. I was still finding it weird, as if my mind had skipped a wire, to be so fascinated by someone so masculine. 

That morning, he wasn't wearing a shirt. I liked watching the glinting hairs on his chest in the half-light, and the way his muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin as he moved. His arced cheekbones were broad beneath slightly angled intense blue eyes, like a cat, but not your average delicate moggy. His chiselled face was almost lion-like. His hair was all shaggy and disarrayed. He just looked so golden... and sexy. Damn it, I wished I could touch his hair and kiss the soft part of his neck so much, but I wasn't sure if he still wanted me after all the trouble with Liam. There was just too much shit flying. We were both angry and scared.

Neill's words broke the spell his sight had put on me. "Liam has a lot coming to him," he whispered. 

"You got that right," I snapped as pain returned in sharp stabs. Damn it. I was angry; it was just a different anger to Neill's. "I said he couldn't hurt me and he fucking found a way that he could. I don't know what I'm going to do. If I'm not in that team, I've got nothing."

"Oh come on, man. Rugby isn't everything. You've got me and Jill and-"

I couldn't believe how bitter I suddenly was. "And what? Nothing. All my fucking life, all I've done is push and shove and strain myself to get to this level, and if not playing, there's no way any selectors are going to pick me for bigger teams. I know it sounds stupid, but this is it, this is everything. I'm a mediocre student at best. I hate commerce! I don't even know how I'm going to stomach working in a fucking office, 'cos that's all that's fucking left-"

"Calm down," Neill whispered. He peeled back his covers and trod across the room (Another jolt to my heart and cock). He sat at the foot of my bed and stared at me. 

"You've still got that disciplinary thing, they might just let it all drop... And if they don't? Geez, you've still got cricket, gym stuff, and you should change course to something you actually like, and if you don't want that you can always go in for modelling," snigger, "or something. And anyway, I know it sucks for you that you aren't on the team, but don't you think that you've got more in you than just being a-" he searched for the right word, "jock? I mean, you aren't dumb-"

"I can't deal with this shit," I grumbled. "I just can't fucking do it."

Neill frowned. "Grow some balls, you have to deal with it. Wasn't it you that told me that he was an arsehole but he couldn't do anything? Well, he can't. We'll make him pay, so he won't mess us up anymore, okay...?" He smiled and patted my knee, like I was some angry kid. "Now, did the doctor give you something to get you out of this shitty mood?"

"Jill had a bag with painkillers and anti-imflammatories in it. I'm sorry to be such an arsehole, I'm just angry, I suppose."

Neill got up and pulled a t-shirt over his boxers. He rummaged around until he found the pharmacy bag, then chucked it my way. From our shelf, he selected a glass that looked cleaner than the others. "I'll go and fill this up for you, yeah? I hope you're not so prickly when I come back."

"Thanks," I said. I slowly pulled myself to my feet, shaking the bedding off my lap. I'm not going to say it didn't hurt, but I could manage. I couldn't lie in bed all day. 

I painfully stripped off the track pants that I had changed into before going to the hospital, along with my boxers, and found another pair of trackies. I regretfully ignored my semi-hard cock. There was some half-crusted precum in my discarded boxers, evidence of foggy dream delights. I was navigating a fresh blue golf shirt when Neill returned.

"What the hell are you doing getting up?" he snapped. He stuck the water on my bedside cabinet and forced me to sit down, shirt hanging off one arm. "When I said grow some balls, I didn't mean bust them by pushing yourself too bloody far."

My muscles clenched in pain, but I didn't wince. I thought I was smiling, though it probably looked like a grimace. "There's no point staying in bed. I'm not some stupid kid. I've got stuff to do."

"Like what?" Neill asked. "Beating yourself up some more?"

I thought of my schedule. I could afford to miss lectures, but couldn't really pass up the $30 an hour I got for taking my bunny of the day through stretches, a brisk 3km run, ab-blast, cycle and weights routine. It was bloody good money, $60 for a couple of hours of not-so-hard work. 

"I've got Ms. Gerhardt, for 8.15 a.m. session before her work."

"You think she'd be happy to see you looking like that?" Neill said. "You'll scare her off! What's her number? I'll ring her and tell her you're sick, but not hung-over. I bet you can't even bend more than a few inches, try doing yoga or whatever the hell you do!"

"I don't do yoga," I said, grudgingly. "But her number's in my diary, top drawer of the desk, in the back under G." I tore open the pharmacy bag and pillbox and swallowed the dosage.

Neill found the number and rang it, explaining to Ms. Gerhardt that I had a rugby injury, which was half-true. He rescheduled her for the same time the following week, and cancelled the other two appointments she had with me before then. He then rang everybody else I had booked. 

"I'm sorry, man, I know this sucks, and if you need help meeting your fortnightly hall fee, I'm happy to pay up," he whispered, between calls. "But you need to recover properly; otherwise you'll damage yourself later. I've listened to you mutter this stuff after seeing physios, so it must be true."

"It's okay," I said. "Thanks for helping out with all this."

Neill smiled. "Come off it, what did you expect me to do? Now, let's get you back to bed."

I rolled my eyes. "Really, nurse, it's better if I do move around, so my muscles don't go into knots. Nothing strenuous, just walking and stuff."

"You realize you put your pants on inside out, right? You can't go out looking like that."

He was right. "What are you doing looking down there?" I snapped. 

Neill smirked, but his voice was a little unsteady. "Thinking about 'and stuff'- Liam didn't- do anything- to you there, did he?"

"Protective gear. Box and shin-guards. Probably the only places I'm not bruised." I stood up and started to uncomfortably strip off the track-pants. Neill hastened to help me, forcing me to be still. I couldn't help but run a hand under his shirt, across his warm, sweaty skin, then down to his waist-band. I stopped as muscle spasms kicked in, trying not to whimper with the pain.

Neill pulled me gently to him and flicked his lithe tongue over my lips. I couldn't hold back. My mouth parted and I devoured him. Our searing tongues stroked as our slick lips pulsed. I sucked his hot, tangy saliva into my mouth. Neill broke the kiss with a smack of his lips.

"Someone's eager," he whispered. His fingers lightly stroked my semi through my boxers. In a more serious voice he said, "I'm not pushing you. You sure you're up to anything like this? I don't want to damage you anymore than you already are."

I blew hot air on his cheek and curled my lips into a smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. It'll take my mind off stuff." 

Not only the pain, I thought, but that horrible, unclean feeling I felt whenever I thought of Liam. I felt as though I must have done something to deserve his arousal, besides punching him at the showers. My anger and sadness masked a deep, horrible feeling of guilt, as if everything was my fault. 

Neill smiled back. I reached to touch his face, to make sure I wasn't dreaming. A tiny muscle somewhere below my armpit twinged, causing the rest of my chest to spasm for a second. I had to gasp that time.

"You'd better sit down before you fall down," Neill advised me.

"Okay," I said, and carefully perched myself on the edge of my bed.

Neill stepped beside me and straightened some of the bedding, pulling my pillows into place. "Maybe lie down for a little bit until the drugs kick in. Don't shit with me, you look like you're in agony."

"You just want to get me into bed," I teased. 

When he frowned, I shuffled myself onto my back. "Like this?"

"Would it help if I gave you a rub?" He saw the horny smirk on my face and laughed. "Not there- Not yet, anyway. I mean like massage shit, would that help the pain or just make it worse? I don't think you should rub bruises, but you've got pulled muscles as well. Would that help?"

"Could do," I replied. 

"So maybe your back? Which bit's the least bruised?" Neill regarded the dark, red-purple bruises on my chiselled torso. I couldn't help but groan as he ran his fingertip down the middle of my abdomen, from the hollow of my neck to my waistband. His sweaty hand rested there as he checked my response. He didn't have to wait long; there was a solid bulge in my boxers.

"As much as I hate to say this - back," I said. "Too many bruises on my front, I guess 'cos there's more padding."

"Stop shitting Seamus, you don't have any padding, any fat or shite like that. You're all muscle... Helpless muscle, at the moment..." He smiled and lifted his hand to flick my nipple. "Are you able to roll over or will I have to help you with that too?"

I gave a small laugh; couldn't do anything more. "I don't know, man, maybe you will have to help me." I met Neill's eyes for a second, then rolled over. "Okay, I lied," I murmured. "I'm not completely helpless."

His fingers flinched a little as he ran them lightly over my shoulders. "That hurt?" Neill whispered.

"Nah," I said. "I'll tell you if it does."

"What about being on your front? That must squash all the bruises, and 'stuff'." As he spoke, Neill walked over to his bed. My eyes were slightly obstructed by the pillows, so I couldn't see what he picked up. "Okay, I think you should lie on this, it might cushion you a bit." It was his feather pillow, one of those ones that start out plump and pack down to nothing. He helped me slide it longways, under my torso.

He was right, it did help. "You're really into doing this properly, aren't you?"

Neill climbed astride my back, careful to keep his weight on his knees. He placed his hands either side of my head and leant forward over me. "Don't you believe it," he whispered. I gasped at the warm breath on my neck, inhaling his masculine, sweaty scent from the pillow, as if he was all around me. The anticipation of his touch was as arousing as the real deal. 

My semi-hard cock started to get hot and plump up more, cushioned by the pillow. 

His tongue traced a warm circle along my right shoulder and continued to circle up around each of the vertebrate in my neck. "Oh, man," I murmured. "That's great." His lips continued to the side of my neck. He mouthed the sensitive, ticklish place beneath my ear for a second before pulling back completely. As he did so, I felt his hard-on momentarily burn my back. My own tingled, deliciously stiffening some more.

Liquid trickled on my skin. The scent only increased my arousal. (I still can't smell a rose without getting a little turned on by memory of my first time.) Neill began to smooth the oil all over my back. He started by circling outward with just the tips of his fingers shivering on my skin, then his whole hand would contact as he drew the circle back in, before running his fingers down my spine again. It was so amazing, I just stopped breathing for a second or so.

"That good?" Neill whispered. "Feel better?"

"Oh yeah," I gasped.

He got more into it, applying more pressure to areas that were not terribly bruised, but still in a symmetrical action. As he did so, I couldn't help but moan. 

"You like that, Seamus?" he breathed. He shifted back a bit, now astride my thighs. His greased fingertips dipped lower, following my spine, then branching outward over the rigid muscles of my lower back. The balls of his hands pressed either side of my spine as his fingers continued to feather outwards, this time harder. "Relax... I'm not pushing too hard am I?"

"It's fine," I murmured. "Feels good." Every place he had handled tingled and tensed, waiting for his fingers to return. Heat wired along the centre of my torso, as sweat soaked into the pillow below. My cock had begun to drool slick, hot precum against the front of my boxers and my abs. The waistband felt too tight. I moaned a little more as his touch intensified.

Neill stroked back up my shoulders then all the way down a few times. His fingers drifted a little lower, to the seat of my shorts. I suddenly felt this jolt of panic as my muscles recalled Liam. Neill recoiled. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes as my face flushed with heat. I felt so stupid. I kept telling myself that this was completely different. I loved Neill, I wanted him to touch me, my body just had this strange reflex kicking in. 

"Muscle spasm," I murmured.

"You sure?"

"Aha."

Neill's soft lips brushed the small of my back for a second. I felt the ends of his hair flick over my skin. "Is this okay? I won't shag you, just stroke you a bit? Okay? You can tell me to stop, I won't mind. I'll just go back to giving you a normal rub down."

I felt a tear glide into the crease at the edge of my left eye. "Do anything you like, man." Isn't that what they say about falling off a horse? I wasn't going to let one tiny, fucked up experience ruin this. "I'm all yours."

He dappled his fingers over the back of my boxers, fast, like a waterfall. Over the top of my buttocks, then along the sides, causing my cheeks to clench. He pushed his palms down hard, circling each individual finger over the sweaty fabric. I groaned as I felt his thumbs press into the furrow at the top of my crease. They rotated, then spread out to my hips.

"More?" Neill asked, momentarily halting his hands.

"Yes," I gasped. 

His oiled fingers peeled down the band of my shorts and played the flesh there for a second. My whole body tingled with need. "Take them off," I panted. "Neill..." He grabbed the hem of my shorts and heaved them downwards, stopping only for me to reach in front and guide my cock out. The fabric fluttered as it struck the ground beside the bed. 

He really got into massaging my arse, applying intense, hot pressure to the sweaty muscles. Up, down, around and around, never once flicking between my legs or down my crease. Until, that is... 

"Can you spread your legs a bit?" Neill whispered. His hands were already on the inside of my thighs, guiding them apart. I felt him shuffle further down. His hot breath puffed against my skin.

Then his tongue. A searing muscle slipping its way between my musky cheeks. His fingers parted my quivering buttocks to expose more of my crease as he lapped his way down to my hole. I felt my opening start to twitch a little, as if it was blinking in anticipation of his touch. I jerked up, trying to meet his slick tongue. This resulted in a flash of fire from my abdomen to my neck. I couldn't help but grunt in pain. At that point, he stopped, "Keep still, man. You'll hurt yourself," and panted against my palpitating anus.

"Please, keep going," I moaned. When nothing happened, I tried again, "Please, Neill."

Neill made a sound like a laugh. His wet tongue-tip flicked around my hole, then stopped again. "Do you like that?" he whispered. 

I felt a sticky, calloused fingertip stroke my hairless ball sac, causing me to jump a little more. "God, you're so smooth everywhere. Feels like fucking silk." His tongue returned, this time more insistent. He slurped his way around my burning rim, then pulled me open a little more.

"Uh- Argh-" I felt his moist organ press into me. My cock spasmed, weeping more hot fluid into the damp pillow supporting my torso. He slid it into me, lubricated by copious hot saliva, every part of him squeezed and pressed against my cord-like sphincters. His tongue orbited inside my tight hole, lapped and fucked me. Hot spit trickled down to my tightening balls, massaged in by his fingertip. 

"Fuck!" I swore as his thick muscle undulated in my arse. His lips were now firmly pressed into my pucker, sucking and slurping air and saliva around his tongue. He made more noise than I did. 

"Uh- Oh shit-!" I was burning all over. My hands couldn't grasp the sheets hard enough to stop my body moving, trying to avoid the stabs of pain from my torso.

Every now and then I'd get too eager and start to thrash around, attempting to force Neill to touch more of the shivering, hot walls of my arsehole. I'd jolt with pain, sometimes crying out. At that point, Neill would retract his slippery, muscular tongue and massage my back until I was still. 

During those interludes, Neill whispered things like, 

"Mmmm... you're so tasty," followed by a slight snigger, though I could sort of tell he meant it. His normally even voice was ragged and coarse. 




Seamus Ch. 04



And, "I never thought about- frenching someone's arse before- and you did it- and you call me dirty- Fuck, it felt so good though. I hope you like this, 'cos I can stop if you don't." To which I moaned, "Don't stop, please don't stop."

When I started to grunt or shriek, he'd get more concerned, though I could still hear the lust thickening his vocal cords. "Are you okay? I don't want to hurt you, man. Just tell me to stop when the pain kicks in, okay?"

Somewhere along the line, Neill stopped stammering. His voice lost the wheezy quality it had taken on, and became smoother and deeper. It was like a purr. To be honest, it sent shock waves through my body. I got painfully hard, especially when he started to describe his view. "Your smooth, tiny, tight, little hole. I can't fucking believe how much this turns me on. Shite, god, Seamus, who would've thought that this stuff would feel so good. Your tight fuckhole shuts when I pull back. I have to prise it open every time my tongue tries to go back in... Wow, Seamus, I mean shit. Sometimes I think it won't, that it's too soft or not wet enough, and I press and then pop, I'm in. There's no in-between feeling. It feels so weird talking about this, like so dirty, but I'm just getting harder and harder."

Eventually, he just sounded horny as hell. "You're arse is so tight- tighter than any pussy I've ever fucked... I'm forcing my tongue up that shithole. I'm tongue-fucking your fucking dirty arsehole, man. And you love it, you dirty perv... I'm hard as a fucking rock just looking at your sweet, tight arse."

"So am I," I moaned into the pillow. I didn't think Neill heard me. His mouth was already kissing my musky bum, driving me wild, my heart beating hot blood to every bodily surface. 

Neill's lips vibrated a little against my skin as he sucked my tender perineum. His tongue flicked over my balls. Then he stopped. "Okay, you can roll over now."

"What?" I whinged.

"Play-time's over. I don't want you hurting yourself." He climbed off me and stood beside the bed. His greased hands gripped my left hip and pulled it to him, compelling me to roll onto my back with a grunt of pain. The pillow was dragged from under my front and chucked to Neill's bed. 

Neill had a wry, horny smirk on his face. "Okay, don't look so worried. I really only wanted access to this." He grabbed my throbbing, hard tool and pulled it level. The oil appeared again, this time copiously squirted all over my cock. He gave me a pretty vigorous rub, then pulled away.

A rustle of soaked fabric slipping to the floor. I rolled my head to the side. I had to take a couple of quick breaths at the sight of Neill awkwardly trying to grease and loosen his arse. My heart jolted into my mouth as heat shot over my body. 

"Want a hand with that?" I gasped. As I spoke, more hot precum beaded in my slit, quickly trickling down my throbbing shaft, onto my balls.

Neill passed a hand across his forehead and brushed some hair from his eyes. His horniness seemed to have momentarily passed. I saw him draw a deep breath. "I think I'm good," he whispered. "I think so, anyway..." His voice thickened up as he watched me. "You look terrible. I shouldn't be doing this to you... I'm sorry. We can stop-"

"I'm all right," I murmured. "Besides, I'm the one who should apologise. I mean, it's you that's going to get-"

"Fucked?" Neill asked. He carefully climbed astride me. "Oh, no, that's the best bit. I want your fat cock all the way up my tight fuckhole. I want your hard tool forcing me open as I ride you hard and fast..." Okay, I was wrong; he was still horny as hell. "...Yeah, shit I do. Only, you have to promise me that you're not going to move about too much. Leave everything to me, okay?"

As he spoke, he ran his fingers over my glistening head, causing me to twitch and shake. Electricity jolted through my veiny cock. I got thicker, forcing his fingers further apart, as he rubbed me up and down. It was agonisingly good. I moaned and tried to hump my pelvis against him, but it really did hurt too much. "Promise?" Neill repeated.

"I promise," I gasped.

He crouched over my dick, using one hand to hold it steady. His other hand fluctuated between trying to support himself and guiding my sensitive tip to his greased hole. He closed his eyes. This time round, I could tell it wasn't the pain that made him do it; his mouth was open, the edges curled up like he was smiling. He was hyperventilating. As he pressed further down on my cock, his expression changed to one of pain, which he tried to hide by opening his teary eyes and smiling at me.

After a few seconds of being pressed against his tight, seemingly unbreachable opening, I felt his anus yield to my cock. The first inch or so was swallowed by his hot sheath quite easily. His muscular action then kicked in, burning, spasming and protesting my fat cock's intrusion. Despite knowing that forcing Neill apart hurt him like hell, I couldn't help but find it arousing. From the look that flashed across his face, I think he did too.

Neill rocked onto his knees and set about easing himself down my shaft. He moved up and down as more and more of my ample cock shafted his tiny hole. Very quickly, my (nearly) 8 inches filled him completely. He sat on my pelvis, partially encasing my ballsac in the crevasse created by the parting of his sweaty man-cheeks. His slightly tight balls nestled above my groin, tickling me with their blonde hairs. I was so fucking horny, I couldn't wait for this to begin.

I felt his abdomen spasm in pain, but he kept smiling. "This is so fucking good... Your thick meat stretching my arsehole open- Shite-" His hips made micro-movements that my trapped, sensitive glans picked up with a tremor of pleasure. I felt him slowly relax as he tilted his pelvis, rotating his wet, velvety insides so that my cock rubbed his prostate. 

"Mmmm..." escaped his mouth. To make sure I understood, he ran his pink, pointed tongue over his lips. I responded with my own steamy groan, stroking his arse.

I was mesmerised by his cock. It curved up, obscenely long against his chiselled chest, like one of those ancient fertility statues. The head glowed red with trapped blood. It seemed to pulse and grow as I watched precum trickle slowly from its slit. My mouth salivated at the thought of taking his sensitive organ to my mouth, brushing it with my soft, parted lips, before licking and plugging the entire length into my narrow throat. I was half-dazed by the idea as I lay there, sucking my bottom lip and jacking his horny cock with my eyes. He had repeated himself twice before I heard him, which made him even more concerned.

"Is this okay?" he asked. "I'm not hurting you am I?"

I reached across and slowly stroked his warm, dribbling cock, thumbing his head and piss-slit. "What do you think?" A smile crept over both our faces. When Neill laughed, I felt his mirth vibrate around my encased prick.

"This is so fucking gay," he whispered, but didn't say anything more. He rose almost completely off my cock then pressed down to sheath me fully in his sizzling rectum. He did this a few more times and gradually built up a rhythm; expanding his channel on the up thrust, contracting on the bottom thrust. He leant forward on his elbows and really went for it. My body convulsed with the thrill of being completely jacked off by this hot, tight, wet sheath, so much better than a fist, a mouth or a pussy. 

I didn't have to do a thing at all, which made me feel a bit lazy. I really wanted to share the experience with Neill. I'm not one of those people that can just lie back and let the other person take charge. I really wanted to be able to kiss him and pound him, stroke his cock and back, maybe bend up and lick his nipples, but I couldn't. I guess I thought that he was getting a bit of a raw deal, but I only had to look at him to see that this wasn't really the case.

Neill's head was slightly tilted, his mouth parted. With every down thrust, he panted and his lips jerked like he was smiling. His eyes widened a little more and seemed to light up even bluer. Sweat ran down his entire body, glistening like beads on the hairs and muscles of his torso. His hair was slightly damp and clung a bit about his face. From every place a hair contacted skin, a snail-trail of hot sweat ran. His long cock bounced off his abdomen, above his navel, leaving a thread of precum that joined the two hard muscles together. The grunts of "Uh, Uh- Shite- Argh- Oh, man-!" got more adventurous and louder, as he called out my name and how good it felt.

After some good, long minutes, I began to realise that we were both teetering on the edge. Neill leaned further against me so that his hot cock rubbed over my chest with every violent thrust. His mouth aggressively explored mine, tongue splitting my lips. Those sticky hands found my wrists and held them down, either side of my head, not that they could go far. His arsehole began to twitch and then spasm, squeezing and releasing my cock in a frenzied wave. He slammed up and down my pole a couple more times, burning me in rings of fiery friction. I saw stars, honest to God I did, and I wasn't the one coming. 

The burning prong pressing into my chest started to jerk and shoot white-hot cum onto my flinching chest, neck and face. Neill wasn't immune. When he finally stopped shooting, there was a big gob of tangy cum dribbling down his jaw, which I quickly scooped away with my tongue. As I did this, my own throbbing prick burst. I shouted in pain as my abdomen tremored. Pressurised cum shot into the depths of his hot bowels. Another load of man-cream splashed back against my cockhead, churning as the next scorching blast propelled through. Neill began to moan and ram himself hard on me, forcing my cock to spurt once more.

My body couldn't help but convulse, firing needle-points of pain seemingly from every muscle of my body to my brain. My heart was pounding so hard that my blood vessels vibrated with fire. My skin shivered, hot and cold. Everything went white and hazy for a few seconds; pain, pleasure, I don't know. Neill's hole started to clench and palpitate; his cock jerked against my chest. His abdominal muscles strained hard as he came for a second time.

"Fuck, Seamus. Shit, Fuck," I heard him groan. "Argh- Oh, shit-" He slammed his arse down, forcing my cock to penetrate his convulsing rectum far further than it had before. A primal shriek shot from his mouth as he stabbed his arse again and again. Cum literally blew from his jerking penis. This sent my shaking, empty cock off again. I painfully came, clasping Neill's sweaty body to mine, so that his slick hair and contracting muscles caressed my chest. I sucked and bit his neck savagely, drawing more deep-bellied grunts from his throat.

As my body throbbed in pain, Neill forced my wrists above my head. His hands were slippery with sweat but his fingers felt like steel. My knuckles grazed the wall with every thrust he made. He bit my lips and tongue as he took complete control, slowly moving up and down, squeezing and pressuring me to cum again. I screamed, I couldn't do it, there was nothing left. 

Still he thrust on and on, faster then slower, sucking me into his arse and forcing me out again. It really did feel amazing; don't get me wrong, it definitely hurt, probably due to my injuries more than anything else, but honestly I'd never felt so aroused or cum as much as that before. We both forced out more and more cream, swearing, sweating, biting and fighting. 

Our orgasms drew away slowly, giving no definite stopping point, just a series of smaller and smaller tremors, his arse, my cock.

"Holy shit, Neill," I whispered as he climbed from me. My hot cum dribbled from his raw hole as he wiped himself off and searched for some fresh clothing. "That was so- So fucking good."

For a minute or so, he didn't reply. When he did, it was if nothing had happened over the last half hour or so. "You okay? You look like shit... How would you like Macca's for breakfast?" he asked. (McDonald's, for the unenlightened).

*

Walking with over half a dozen bruised boot-prints to your body, wrenched muscles and a very sore head is not so fun. It doesn't help if you've just blown all your energy on an amazing shag. Neill actually had to support me before we even got off our floor. He was definitely copping a feel of my arse, which had me in stitches of pain and laughter. I was about to give a pinch to one his muscular buns, when a voice behind us spoke.

"Hey guys- You okay Seamus?" When Neill turned us around, I saw Nathan standing in the hallway behind us. It wasn't his floor; he lived in the Somers wing, which was far more prestigious. It was odd that he was on ours so early. "God, you look like crap. How the hell did you avoid getting a couple of shiners to go with the eyebrow stitches?"

"I'm okay, dude," I said, slowly. Neill had hurriedly pushed me away by that point.

Nathan is a handsome guy (I never thought of him 'like that', it is just an observation.) At that time, his black hair was shorter than mine, probably an two inches all over, with red-brown streaks. It was unstyled and spiky; I'd seen him get up after a hard night and just mess it with his hands to remove any flat patches. To emphasise his tousled look, Nate only shaved once a week. He played his roguish appearance to his advantage; many a girl had fallen for the 'bad boy turned good' ruse. Actually, he was far from bad. This is a guy who cries in movies then pretends he's got popcorn debris in his eyes when the lights turn on; that melts a few hearts too, but since he does it when he comes out with us guys, I'm pretty sure its for real. Who else cried at the end of Kill Bill Vol. 2?

His eyes are big and dark, with the long lashes and heavy eyebrows that girls seem to like. His skin is milky pale, darker around his eyes. He doesn't freckle, despite being one of those guys who spends summer constantly peeling if he doesn't use sunscreen. He has a roman nose and lips that appear quite wide, rather than full. Everyone assumes that he is Italian or something romantic and European, but I don't think he would be able to find Italy on a map. His family are meat-and-three-vege and fish-n-chip people, nothing exotic. Down to earth, nice people, not that Europeans aren't nice. I think I'm digging a hole here.

"Whatcha doing down here so early, Nate?" Neill teased. "Who'd you score?" That's the general assumption we had if we found a guy who didn't belong on our floor the following morning. If the guy looked smashed, we'd presume he'd just crashed in someone's room.

Nathan shuffled his feet a bit, looking at me. He seemed so damn uncomfortable that he can't have noticed anything different about the way we were behaving. "No-one- I just- tired- night-"

I smiled a little. "Oh come on, you can tell us."

"Well- I- um- Jill and me... Shit, I hope you don't mind." Too late now, anyway.

I lied before when I said the me and Jill were just sleeping together as an extension of our friendship. It was serious, else I wouldn't have told Dad about her. What Nate said had me feeling quite fucked off. It shouldn't have, seeing as I had moved on. I suppose I thought that Jill might wait longer. A bit of a double-standard, I know. I guess it's 'cos I adore Jill; I don't exactly love her yet really I do. It sounds strange, but that's how it is. I still act like her Dad sometimes and rip into anyone she brings over. It would just break my heart to see some guy mess her up, especially a guy I knew, like Nathan.

It didn't work between me and Jill, up too close and personal, it just didn't. We were at the point of hating each other if we didn't stop and back-off. There was the thing I had for Neill, complicating it all, and Neill and her- Well, it didn't work. Still didn't stop me feeling like I had to scare off any guys that came sniffing around her, as if she were still mine. 

"Course not," I grunched. "How long's this been going on?" You bastard.

"Um- Arr- Last night- Since then." Fuck you, Nate. Go to hell.

"Hey, we're going to McDonald's for breakfast, want to come?" Neill asked. I could have kicked him. 

"Yeah, that'd be great. We're cool, right Seam?" Arsehole. One of the reasons why I don't like my name, sometimes? People who shorten it to 'Seam'='Shame'.

"Of course," I said. What the hell was up with Jill? I was feeling hellishly possessive. Of all the guys she could have chosen, why Nate? And why last night? Jill didn't just sleep with guys at the drop of the hat. 

"God, you look like shit," Nathan repeated. "You took off so fast- otherwise I would have taken you to get checked out by a doctor. As it was, coach had to sort out Liam. Good job on that, by the way. He sure had that coming and one of us had to do it."

"Just had to be me, did it?" I asked, glumly. We had started up the stairs on the way out of the wing to join the parking building. I was having trouble walking, but Neill wasn't helping, which pissed me off a little more. Fuck Liam. Fuck you too, Neill.

"I'm sorry mate. Once you left, me and Weaver," our captain, "did try and gang up on Prentice," our Coach. "He's gonna leave contacting the disciplinary staff, if you guys can sort it out off field. I know that sucks, but disciplinary is far worse. This way, you guys are still going to be playing in the finals. I wish Liam would get kicked off, but Coach'll hear nothing of it. I'm really sorry about everything. You just shouldn't have gone him like that, with all the team arriving for practise-"

I wheeled on Nate. He's a nice guy, he was just pissing me off that day, first with Jill and then with assuming that it was my fault that the fight happened. "You really think it was me that started it? It was that fucker, you understand, not me, okay? So just shut-up about it." Be glad I don't bash your face in to go with it.

As I spoke, I heard Neill swear. He was ahead of us on the second floor of the parking garage, jangling the keys to my car. He was looking for where I'd parked it. We'd already agreed that I probably shouldn't drive. "Seamus, you'd better come look at this."

Someone had backed into my car, side on, even though it wasn't jutting out of the park. The left tail-light was broken, the bumper dented, and the rear side-panel crumpled a bit like a dented beer can. More than one point of impact. An unlikely accident. If it was, whoever had done it hadn't left any note. I still wonder whether I was paranoid to assume Liam was involved. I wanted to go find him and rip his head off, but somehow I was persuaded to have some shitty McDonald's breakfast instead. Probably because I really had no energy to protest what Neill and Nate were saying. 



Seamus Ch. 05



WARNING: the end of this chapter contains sexual harassment/abuse. Sometimes, the worst part of this abuse is the unwanted sexual response that the perpetrator arouses in his victim. This storyline is not intended to offend.

Author's notes: when I originally wrote this plot, I never intended to pad the story out with so much emotion, but I think it's needed to make the characters realistic. I worry that it's too much, and I'm trying to be concise. Anyway, I thought I'd better split this from Chapter four, since it is a new phase, darker with more angst. (Also being bipolar and depressed at the moment, my writing has darkened and lost a lot, which is a shame, so I may leave off for a while after this segment). And thanks to everyone who has sent me feedback, it's great to hear what you think.

*

We finally lost Nathan at about 9 a.m. When I say 'lost', I didn't purposely try to get rid of him, although I was on the verge of punching him when he began to describe in graphic detail what sounded like an all-too-familiar amazing night with Jill. No, he had lectures to go to; thank god. Neill seemed to enjoy my discomfort and was rather quiet, at least until he dropped Nate on campus on the way back to the hall.

He ran his hand over my thigh, one hand on the wheel. "Want to rip his fucking head off, right?" 

"You arsehole," I swore, under my breath. When Neill chuckled, I slapped his fingers. "Watch the road and stop laughing!"

The car veered a little, narrowly missing a double-parked truck. "Stop harassing the driver," Neill snapped. His hand groped higher, encompassing my groin, causing my cock to tingle a little with heat. I shoved him off, but he returned, with a vengeance. "You want me to drive safely? Let me play."

I gave up trying to move his hand; every time I did, he swerved a little. "Shit!" Neill ran a red light, attracting multiple horn blasts of warning. "My car's already broke, don't total it! You're behaving like a dickhead-" While my heart tried to return to some semblance of a pulse, he began to laugh. "I don't understand why you're finding this so fucking funny!" I fumed.

Neill took a deep breath and returned both hands to the wheel. "Are you still hung up on Jill?"

"Is this why you're being such a prick all of a sudden?" I replied. "Jealous?"

"Course not- I just-"

My turn to laugh. "Yes, you are."

As soon as he started to protest, I knew I had him. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Take the left turn-off here-"

"What?" Neill asked.

"Go down to Bissell Park. I want to talk to you, without you getting us bloody well killed," I said. "And don't you say we're talking now, you know what I mean."

He didn't say anything else, just drove us the extra couple of minutes and pulled up in the almost vacant car-lot on the south side. He turned to me and glared. "Okay, what?"

I fixed Neill with a glare of my own. "Turn the car off, put the brakes on, take your hands off the wheel and look at me properly." My heart pounded in anticipation of what I was about to say. I felt my skin ripple as my hair follicles erected in a mixture of arousal and fear. Insecurity or no, I had to say it. "I- Neill- This, us, has never been casual for me. I don't know what that means, but there's no way in hell I would have gone for this if I didn't- care- about you." 

I was faced with an emotionless mask. His vivid blue eyes averted mine, staring down at his hands. Shit. I'd blown it. To him, it was just meaningless sex; a way to get off while neither of us had a girl. Then I realised that the rest of his features were relaxed. Beneath the mesh of blonde hairs, his forehead bore none of the ticking worry lines I usually saw when he was under stress. He looked a little slack-jawed, but I suppose anybody that's just heard something like that would. As I kept watching, a stray tear trickled down his furred cheek, which was odd because his lips were beginning to curl at the edges. As his eyes rose to meet me, his smile increased.

Neill has always been an actions-rather-than-words person. Before I knew what was happening, he rammed into me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me along the bench seat. His lips locked mine before my body had even thought about the pain his brutal contact caused. I felt his tongue dart into my complaining mouth, wrapping and trapping my own in heat. Over-salted McDonalds' breakfast and stale coffee flavoured his thick, slightly cooler saliva. He drew back a little, clasping and releasing me between his lips. His stubble grazed my bruised chin. At the same time, his long fingers found their way to the sweltering skin under my shirt. 

I moaned against his mouth, momentarily clamping his tongue, as heat shot over my skin. He traced the prickling skin above my waist-band, then up the muscles of my torso. My cock began to grow some more, shocked and aroused by the way our warm bodies were crushed together. One of my hands grasped a handful of his silky hair and pushed him forwards, slamming him against my pulsing lips. Neill's sharp tongue continued to tease me, whilst he somehow managed to embed a canine in my lip. My nerve fibres went into overdrive with sensations of pleasure and pain. I ran with heat, shuddering and jerking against his hands as one fingertip found the soft skin of my nipple. I bit down a little and drew my teeth over his tongue, teasing the coarse surface of his tastebuds as my sensitive nipples heated and stiffened to his gentle touch. My other hand fought with the stretched zipper of his jeans to release his burning half-hard meat. 

He pinched the hardened tips of my nipples, sending electricity jolting through my sore, spasming muscles. I growled, releasing my grip on his tongue. Neill suckled my lower lip for a second as he continued to play my chest. His head shifted, eyes meeting mine with a perverse, gleeful gleam, closing as his lips found the alcove at the end of my unshaven jaw. He nuzzled his wet lips over my skin, nose puffing heat onto my ear. Sweat dripped between my tight pecs as his palms painfully flattened my tingling nipples. I felt blood accumulate as my tips fought to harden, then rush in as he started to tease them once more. I was moaning uncontrollably, my dripping tongue lapping salt from the side of his face as my quivering hands focused on releasing his wrapped groin.

Neill only ever wears underwear to sleep in. He says it saves him from stumbling out into the hallway naked when he needs to take a leak. So the reddened head of his cock immediately sprang out when I succeeded in getting his fly down. My fingers lightly fondled his foreskin, while my other hand grasped his white root and fisted him slowly into hardness. As Neill moaned into my neck, I blew some spittle on my fingertips. I dripped the spit onto his ruby head and used it to lubricate my assault on his foreskin. Very soon, I saw a tiny bead of precum in his slit, which I teased out into a bigger bubble with my thumb. His teeth clashed against my skin, biting me in approval. I groaned in pleasure, but my mind was completely possessed by his cock. I was kind of disappointed when Neill pulled back from me, until I heard what he had to say. "Yeah, I care about you too, you horny bastard."

When I raised my eyebrows in question, he continued, "What, d'you think I'd let you shag my arsehole with that fat prod just 'cos you haven't had a fuck since Jill...? I'm not that good a mate to anyone." 

His lips closed for a second and when he spoke again, his voice sounded much more serious. "I didn't really think this would happen, but I- Well, I don't know what I wanted. Okay, I- I was hitting on you- I guess- But I never thought it would actually happen- And neither of us have done this- And- It gets scary when you don't know what to do. But, after Liam did- I don't know, maybe before- Definitely before- I- I- You're my best mate, and well, I- care- My-" He broke into a grin. "My balls have never blown so much before in my life. That must say something."

"Great for your balls," I whispered. You know what? I didn't want to push the issue any further. I knew what Neill meant, and I don't think I could have said anything different. It was better this way; we did what we felt, rather than trying to warp it into words and emotional shit. "How about this rock in my hand?"

He laughed. "Keep rubbing me the right way and you'll know." 

"How about a tongue instead?" 

"Even better," Neill groaned. "You sure you're up to it though?"

"What do you think?" I lowered my head and poked my red tongue from between my smirking lips, watching him with horny eyes. He leant back in the corner created by the edge of the bench seat and the car door, giving him a better view and me easier access. Though I didn't say anything, the position my torso was in cramped already torn and bruised muscles. Of course, I completely forgot about that as soon as my wet tonguetip glided up his ridged underside. I loved the way his cock immediately jerked a little as if it had been burnt.

"Those painkillers must really be working," he gasped.

My long tongue twisted and grasped his length. Everywhere it touched glistened with my hot saliva, polished by my strong muscle. It never left his skin for a second. My mouth was constantly open and I forgot to swallow, so spit began to accumulate and dribble down my chin and onto his balls. My hand used it as a lubricant for a wet palm massage. I revelled in the way he completely lost control of his hips, which were bouncing his cock up to meet me. I felt his excited, wet tip burn over my right eye and forehead as I focussed upon nibbling his wide base. 

Then I moved down to his balls, enshrouded in their loose pink sack. The crinkled golden hairs stood out like a halo, most too curly to be stuck down by my slick spit. I slurped and swirled each individual ball in my mouth, feeling the tender, hard nut within. Then I took them both as best I could, coarse hair prickling my tongue as they filled my small cavity. "Oh yeah, suck my balls," I heard Neill murmur, in-between grunts of pleasure. His hands cradled my head against him as his pelvis continued to hump my face. When I was sure his sack was completely dripping with my hot saliva, I mouthed and lightly bit the skin for a while, my own cock getting hard just imagining it was happening to me. 

His hips were really starting to jerk around. I raised my head and stared at him. "No-one about?"

"Nah," Neill said. I don't think he even bothered to look out the car window. But then, nobody really uses that particular carpark at Bissell Park; it's not near the walkway, the 'lake', any tables, children's play area or toilets. I knew that when I told him to drive there. 

"You still want me to suck you?"

"What, you want me to drive back after you've got me all hot and bothered like this?"

My hot lips parted and took the very tip of his glowing bulb. My tongue lapped a tiny streak of precum off, then stopped. I felt impetus on both sides as Neill's hand tried to push my mouth further down his cock, whilst his hips tried to drive more inside. I resisted and raised my head again. "Maybe I do want you to drive back," I ran a tight fist up his shaft, "Like this."

"You're an arsehole, you know that," Neill said. "Just suck my cock-"

"Say it like you really want it," I teased, still fisting him, slowly with added pressure.

Neill's meat jumped in my hand. I felt the veins pack out more as he heated and expanded, dribbling precum like a tap. "Please suck my cock," he whispered. "Please, please, suck my cock." When I still did nothing, he became more insistent. "Suck my cock! Come on, suck it, Seamus, please."

I felt myself begin to drip as I heard his pleas. My best mate, begging me to give him head. I was startled to realise that this was one of those recurring dreams that I had tried to forget for so long. I couldn't hold out any longer. I dropped and engulfed as much of him as I could in my hot mouth.

"You bloody tease," Neill hissed. He thrust upwards, embedding more cock than I intended between my stretched lips. I couldn't protest, because his hands held my head in place. Slowly, his hips began to work his trembling cock in and out. His skin seared my mouth, hard, soft and smooth all at once. I panicked slightly as he upped the tempo, forcing in more and more meat until I began to gag. The rhythmic, uncomfortable contractions in the back of my throat forced saliva to flood out of my lips, which my tongue attempted to mop from the hilt of his shaft. "Oh yeah, that's good," I heard mutter. "Use your tongue some more."

I did, running my tongue around and along his ridged skin. He was so warm and hot, jerking and shaking out salty precum for my pulsing mouth. I was so caught up in making it good for him that I soon forgot the pressure of his slippery head on my soft throat. My discomfort decreased as I focussed on the sounds he was making. "Oh, yeah- Shit- Fuck, yeah, Seamus- I'm fucking your dirty little mouth- Oh shit- You're so good-" He was going wild. He loved it. Soon I realised he wasn't even holding my head in place anymore. His fingertips were lightly drawing circles on my sweaty scalp.

I pulled up, until his only his head was in my mouth, and focussed on rolling its hot swollen redness over my tongue, before sucking him back in as far as I could go. I bobbed up and down slowly, licking and prodding him with my tongue, then got faster, letting him fuck my face with his hips. Each time he hit my throat, my gag reflex got weaker, until finally I just focussed on trying to swallow him to the root. He was too long, or the angle didn't work or something, so I gave up and went back to sucking.

After a bit, Neill pulled my head off and moved until he was lying fully on his back across the front seat. He pulled me backward over him, so that my soaked crotch was above his face. I was disappointed when he didn't try to take my pants down, but satisfied enough to feel his fingers rubbing my hot hard-on through the fabric. The slippery warmth and friction of the precum-slick fabric of my boxers felt great on my delicate cockflesh. "Argh- Yeah, that's good," I moaned. "Rub my cock hard. Rub it, Neill... Mmmm..." I gobbled his cock down, raising a yelp of pleasure, which had my own piece springing in his hands. I don't know how either of us managed to get hard again, but I was sure I was even more sensitive to his touch than I was earlier. My body was absolutely wet and hot and shaking all over, a current like electricity linking every quivering muscle to my burning groin.

As I continued to suck Neill's meat between my stretched lips, I couldn't help but lower my cock to his face. I mashed it into his warm hands, bucking my hips harder and faster as I felt my boxers brim with fluid. "Oh, god, please," I heard myself gasp as I bobbed my head completely off his hard shaft, "Please, suck me, please." I jerked about some more, my pleas vibrating his saliva-coated length. I heard deep, steamy moans from his end as one of his hands lightly cuffed my arse.

I shook, squeezing his cock tightly between my tongue and the hard roof of my mouth. He slapped me a second time, this time harder. My cheek burnt and stung beneath my sweaty trackpants. His fingers scraped me down to the buff, then slapped me one more time, before roughly tugging my dripping shaft. "Uh-" I groaned. "Neill, man, that-"

One finger pressed against my tight, pink hole, quickly breaking through into my rectum. It surged inside me, then retreated as quickly as it came. I wiggled my arse in his face, desperate for more. When nothing happened, I decided to up the pace. I flicked my tongue over his now bulging, plum coloured head and prodded his piss-slit with its tip. Neill's cock jerked in approval, leaking such cloudy precum that it looked like he was close to the real deal. I devoured him between my lips, gently exploring his slit some more.

Neill howled in pleasure and buried his index finger against my prostate, sawing so rapidly up and down that my cock drained a river of precum on his face. "Uh," I heard myself moan. "Uh, yeah-"

When my lips tried to return to his cock, he pushed them away. "I wanna wait for you."

"I'm close," I whispered. I felt his velvety mouth close around my plump shaft. He suckled me while another slippery finger joined its mate in my sizzling channel. "Oh, shit," I swore, as my arse stretched. The pleasure rippled down to my balls and I felt my cock start to jerk. Hurriedly, I wrapped my lips around his length and sucked as hard as I could, rewarded almost immediately by a blast of hot cream.

Neither of us had much cum to share, having cleaned our balls out that morning. Still, it was amazingly satisfying to release what little I had, after the great build up. We didn't stay down long. Instead, we sat up and kissed quietly for a while as the tingling heat passed and sweat ran cold. When I finally broke away from Neill, I said the words that had been on my mind since the first time I fucked him. "I love you, man."

"I love you, too," Neill responded, immediately. We stared at each other in wonder, then just laughed and laughed. We were still laughing by the time we got back to the hall. 

*

I still can't believe how quickly I fell for Neill. Three months earlier, I would never have imagined that this would have happened. As I've probably said before, I never thought that fantasy would be so hot in reality. We were never awkward, how the fuck does that work? And I couldn't get him out of my head. It was love and obsession, something that could easily be broken.

By the time we got back to the Hall, my energy had dropped through the floor. I seriously needed to crash. I think the pills made me tired, but the fucking and sucking can't have helped my energy levels. Neill helped me get into bed, arranged my pillows and patted a blanket over me. He still didn't say much. I was quite aroused by how gentle he was being, but too tired to do anything about it. He stroked the hair off my forehead and ran his fingers over my face. His finger-tip lingered on my soft lower-lip while I massaged it with my tongue. For a moment, I imagined it was his red cock and the thick spit dribbling down my chin was his precum. 

I tried my best to coerce him into staying, but he said that his Lab was important and counted toward his final mark. After he left, I dozed off. I don't really know whether I dreamed it, or whether something happened, but at some stage during the day, I think the door opened and Neill came back in. I was in limbo between sleep and waking. Though I was aware that he was in the room, I didn't stir or open my eyes. I don't think I could. 

Something heavy dropped on the floor, maybe his bag or some books. Maybe I heard footsteps... Hot lips on my cock?... I slept on, through lunch-time and tea; I must have been tired, because McDonalds hardly fills half my stomach. At around 8 pm, I began to shift about, starting to be aware of the room around me. A hand prodded my shoulder, and a misty-looking Neill loomed into my view. I blinked. That looked better. 

"Shit- I thought I'd let you sleep, but I- Shit- You alive? Lucid? Know where you are?"

"Yeah," I croaked. Neill was sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall, knees up, beside my shoulder/arms. He must have climbed over me to get there. His feet smelt bad.

"That 'stuff' must have really been something to knock you out like that...You'd better get this down you, case you're dehydrated." He handed me a bottle of sports-water, one of those ones with electrolytes and salts to replace missing essential things. It was one that didn't taste like shit; though I could have drunk sewage I was so dry.

I sat up, less pain this time. The bottle gurgled as I gulped fluid down, and hissed when I broke the vacuum. "Thanks, you buy this for me?"




Seamus Ch. 05



"Course." He shrugged.

"Your feet stink," I groaned.

"And I was being so nice to you," Neill mocked.

"Sorry. You have been so nice to me, lover."

Neill gave me a light shove, like he was afraid I might break if he pushed any harder. "What'd you expect? That I let you lie here all battered up and probably half-comatose? I watched you almost all day to make sure you didn't choke on your tongue or anything like that. I knew you'd be shitty, that's why I didn't wake you sooner. You're still shitty. Guess that empty head does have something to bruise after all."

I pushed him back. He was so relaxed that his head banged against the wall. "Sorry." I said, for the shove. "Don't be mean." For the comment.

Neill shoved me again, this time harder. When I gasped he asked, "That hurt? Good. Don't be an arsehole... I rang the pharmacy to check out those pills you took this morning. You're supposed to be tired. I'm just not sure whether they meant this tired. They said you may sleep a lot if you're not used to taking stuff, which you aren't, because of the regulations around your sport. By the way, these won't affect that... How are the muscles? Bruises?"

"Sore," I said.

"You're supposed to be able to take the meds every four hours, if needed, but I don't think you need anymore."

"That's great, nurse."

"Doctor sounds better."

"Okay, doctor then. Whatever."

Neill smiled. "Whatever. Jill was in before, quirky as hell and spitting tacks now she's found out that you bashed Liam. She wanted to wake you up, but I wouldn't let her, said you were too smashed. I didn't think you'd want to talk to her. You're pissed over that thing with Nate, right?"

"Yeah, a bit. My boyfriend made me sit through an hour and a half's breakfast listening to the guy tell me how great my ex is in bed," I told him, grudgingly. 

Sleep had mellowed me a bit. I had lost the edge of my anger at Liam and Nate. Things were looking up, I was still 'in' my rugby team, if I knuckled under a bit. I suppose I was sort of grateful to Nathan and the other guys for having a go at our coach. The specifics of what had happened during the fight, and the damage to my car, were pushed to the back of my mind. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to deal with it.

"Still want to kill Nate, right?" Neill gave me a knowing smile and patted my hand. Not this again, I thought. I though we'd worked it out that morning... or had I dreamed that part?

"Nah, I'm good," I said. "But he'll lose his balls if he messes her around."

He was quiet for a patch, maybe a minute or more. It was an easy silence. I felt too zonked to connect ideas and come up with an actual sentence, Neill just seemed tired. After all, he had been up half the night checking my eyes, and the amount of sex we had had wasn't normal, even for two college boys. Our only point of skin contact was his hand on my arm. It wasn't hot or sweaty, just normal. "She seemed ashamed of it, like she didn't think it should have happened."

It shouldn't have made me feel so relieved. "Yeah?" I asked.

"But then, she seemed happy enough. Jill does overanalyse and obsess about everything. She's training to be a shrink, after all."

"Yeah." I wasn't sure whether he meant it and whether I agreed or not.

More silence. Less comfortable this time, or at least I felt that way. I watched his face for a bit, trying to figure out what he was really thinking. I wanted to say that he didn't have to be jealous, but I wasn't sure whether it was true or not. 

Neill shook. "What you staring at?"

I couldn't help but smile at him, like a kid who's just seen a balloon for the first time. All thought channels switched off. My heart pumped steadily. "Something ugl- No seriously, you," I replied.

"Quit staring," Neill snapped, then smirked.

I leant in and tentatively kissed his mouth. When he responded vigorously, I pulled away and then returned quickly for round two. Once again, he got hot and heavy fast. "Stay still," I whispered, and flicked a fingertip under his chin. 

"Oh, all right," he grumbled. I placed my palms either side of his jaw, and stroked my fingers over his skin. I drew his face in. His blue eyes stared into mine, fathomless as the ocean on a fine day. He tried to stop blinking, causing a tear to trickle down one cheek. After that, his eyes flickered open and closed quickly to make up for the delay, eyelashes meshing like a new butterfly pumping its wings. 

Neill's hot breath, laced with onions, garlic, something else, drifted into my nose and mouth. Agonisingly slowly, my tongue ran a hairline over the contours of his soft lips. Enough of this romance crap, I thought, and thrust my hot muscle into his mouth. He sucked me in, entrapping me with his own wet tongue. His head tilted to lock me. I fought, sweeping my lips over his, and plucking him with the smooth inside of my lower lip. My hands frantically grasped his hair, forcing our mouths together.

I dropped one hand from his head and ran it lightly down his chest. I could feel the bulges of his muscles through the folds of his light t-shirt. The heating was on, but he still seemed to have goosebumps. I rummaged with his fly. He'd changed his cum-stained jeans to cords. Button-down, damn it. I had to break our kiss to play with the bloody buttons. His meat was loose in the silky lining of the corduroy fabric. Neill made no sound, apart from deep breathing. 

My fingertips stroked his length, causing his prick to perk up almost immediately. I hadn't noticed before that whilst partially erect (very, very partially), his cock was just under half its fully engorged length and as pale as the untanned skin of his groin and butt. It was amazing to see how much he grew, as trapped blood flushed his cock red. I didn't think that was possible. Whilst my hands were otherwise engaged, Neill hooked his wrists behind my neck and pressed his lips to mine, forcing my mouth open and dragging his teeth along my tongue, as I had that morning. I pushed back, stabbing him in return and ensnaring his mouth with mine. Our tongues tied together, whilst hot saliva pooled between our clashing lips.

Suddenly, I had to pull away. I took a deep breath, down to my belly, and my mouth involuntarily stretched to its widest in a giant yawn. As always, if you yawn once, you have to yawn again, which I did. Then two of those half yawns where your jaw locks open but your mouth doesn't widen to its full extent and your nostrils flare. "Sorry," I murmured, mid-yawn.

Neill slapped his hand on my shoulder. "You horny bastard, behave yourself, you've just woken up. Perhaps we should get you walking around the room a little, wake you up, circulate the blood, before we do anything else. I'll get you something solid to eat, like bread or something."

I squeezed the base of his cock, causing the rest of his shaft to quiver and burn. "There's something solid here." I tried to move down the bed a little and felt my back shriek. I coughed involuntarily, more a hiccup than a cough, which set my chest muscles spasming. I had to clasp an arm to my chest, stupidly trying to force the pain to stop. 

"Behave yourself, Seamus," Neill muttered and prised my fingers apart. "You're in no fit state."

"Yes, doctor."

He cracked a smile, but didn't shove me, though it was one of those looks on his face. "Shuddup with that crap."

"Okay," I croaked. 

We sat still for a moment. I stared at his cock and imagined how smooth and hot it would feel in my mouth. My pants started to tent a little, just thinking. Neill's prick grew before my eyes, burning with the knowledge that I was watching him. I gave a moan of disappointment when he tried to cover it with his pants and t-shirt. My eyes flashed to his face. He gave me an evil smile. "Seriously man, you need to get up and walk around. Have something to eat, probably go to the toilet. You must've slept 10 hours. That can be very relaxing, but you told me this morning that your muscles will clamp up if you don't keep them warm and stretched. So get out of bed."

"Fine."

The pain was less fiery this time, more a solid ache all over. There were a few nervy muscles, in my back and torso, which jolted my entire body when stressed. Less than the morning, though. "Okay, let's see some laps," Neill teased. "Around the room to each corner or nearest piece of furniture, twice."

"You're getting off on this, you mean bastard," I grumbled.

Neill chuckled. "Course I am." He dropped his pants and flashed his cock at me, balls swinging, before slipping on a pair of loose sports pants and a longish fleece jacket. "Keep moving. I'm going to check my locker in the floor kitchen, find something for you to eat." 

He came back with a honey sandwich and some crackers. "Sorry, man. I forgot I'd run out of a lot of food. I've got some cans, but other than that, this is pretty much all I have left."

"Thanks," I murmured. "You can get some stuff out of mine if you get hungry, seeing as I've eaten yours."

We sat on the floor for a bit, while I ate. "You had tea?"

"Yeah, be glad you missed it. Brown broccoli, sliced leeks boiled to snot, deep-fried 'fish' aka solid batter, and potatoes. Thank god they can't muck up cooking spuds. I don't think I'd survive if they did."

"You still hungry?" I asked. Before he could answer I had torn a piece of sandwich off and shoed it through his lips. He refused the next piece. "No. You've only had McDonalds today, you gotta eat something."

"Fine," I said.

"Stop moaning."

Mid-bite. "I'm not moaning."

"Yes you are. You shouldn't be moaning, boyfriend." That had us in stitches. This was so unreal. I couldn't really believe that it was happening.

Eventually nature called and I headed to the toilets. I told Neill I'd be all right, but in reality, my blood pressure was pretty low and the dancing stars in my eyes didn't go away like I had hoped.

*

Damn it, I should have asked Neill to come with me. I was light-headed and sweating profusely by the time I was halfway along the hall. I stopped once, leaning to the wall to support my aching muscles. After that I shuffled on. I had a quick conversation to Harry as I passed the kitchen. I should have asked him for help, but was too embarrassed to admit I needed help getting to the toilet. 

I saw Liam go into his room, moving with more ease than I was. Bastard. Even so, it was gratifying to see that one of eyes was half shut, the other nestled in bruises. Stitches below his lip and eyebrow. His nose was purple across the bridge, but wasn't taped, so it can't have broken. His left forearm and wrist were wrapped with a compression bandage.

Needless to say, I walked as fast as I could. My aching, stabbing muscular pain and dizzy head were forgotten. The toilet door was hurriedly pulled shut and locked behind me. I gasped for air, claustrophobic in the one by two metre room. My white knuckled fingers supported me on the grimy taps of the sink opposite the doorway. 

For the first time, I saw the damage Liam had done. It wasn't too bad. My right eye had escaped a direct blow; there was only slight bruising along the pad of my cheekbone. He'd grazed the left side of my face with the spikes on his boot, leaving my cheek and forehead a little raw. It could've been much worse. Lucky for me I diverted his foot or moved my head. I can't remember exactly what I did. The skin around my left eye was shiny and red from a fist, but not particularly swollen. At the hospital, they had partially shaved my eyebrow to make room for four sutures (the sort that break down in two weeks and don't need removing) and some of those white strips of tape. The wound had wept and looked a little yellow and crusty around the edge. 

My lips weren't split, my nose not bruised or broken.

I ran the taps, then decided that while a splash of cold water might help my headache, it would make my skin burn with fire. When I felt like I was okay, I moved to the toilet and got my dick out. Dizziness swept over me again, a wave of heat and flashing vision. It lessened when I went leant forward and supported myself with one hand next to the flusher. Then returned with a vengeance. I felt my body start to crumble, and I saved myself on the bowl. Shit.

I crawled onto the toilet seat. My muscles hurt as I pressured my bladder to release, but it was just a twinge. Then I lay my head back against the cold plastic, trying to make the white and black stars in my eyes go away. They didn't. For a few seconds everything was black. I heard a high-pitched sound and my skin ran cold. Then normal sight, with tiny white flashing points. I took some deep breaths and tried to swallow the sick feeling in my stomach. If I stayed here long enough, Neill would come and get me.

A bang on the door. "Taken," I croaked. I didn't register the sound of keys or the lock being clicked open. Just suddenly, I opened my eyes, and there was Liam, inches in front of me. It was like a bad dream. I shut my eyes, imagining 'it' would go away.

Opening my heavy eyelids revealed the truth. Liam was still there, solid as a rock. I didn't see his face, just the tent in his trousers. "Got it wrong, didn't I?" Liam whispered. "You're the one with the pussy-arse. He's even got you pissing like a woman." Where'd he come up with this shit?

"Fuck you," I spat in anger, disgust, a little humiliation. I pulled myself to my feet and shoved him away. "Just get out of my face." Hurriedly, I dragged my pants up. The smirk on his face was quickly punched off. I shot to the door. He grabbed my arse on the way out. 

I tried to push him away but white and black fire was already clouding my vision and draining my movement. "Leave me alone," I weakly protested. Liam's hands groped my bulge. Heat shot through me as he drew me by my package, back into the room. I was suddenly pressed more tightly to him than I wanted, his hard-on jabbing my side. He slipped his cold, almost clinical hand, down my pants. It felt wrinkleless, even on the knuckles, the skin oily, almost rubbery, like he was wearing a glove. The bastard wasn't, since his nails scratched the skin above my groin. I flinched with the terrible knowledge of what was about to happen. He drifted lower and caressed my loose, urine-dripping cock. I felt myself grow hot and begin to distend almost instantly. "Stop!" I protested in panic. "Please stop, please!" My murky mind couldn't determine whether I was talking to him or my stiffening cock.

Sight got hazier. "Stop," I whispered as pain set in. My voice sounded slurred. I was going to pass out and I sure as hell didn't want to if Liam was going to be anywhere near me. Agonisingly, I could feel blood rush south as my heart tremored weakly. I may have been able to disassociate from the experience if my engorged cock hadn't warmed his chilled hand.

Liam ran his smooth fingertips along and around my meat and gripped me tightly. His fist slowly closed and started to rub up and down, spreading my urine along my shaft. Meanwhile, his left hand, with the bandaged wrist, stopped holding my body still. It dropped and massaged my balls through the lumpy fabric of my track-pants. He'd clearly handled men before; his fingers were the right pressure, neither too rough nor too gentle. If he had fumbled or hurt me, I would have felt better, not so aroused. "Stop..." I said, but it was only a soundless breath. As I slipped into darkness, I started to believe that maybe it was Neill's hand on my leaking, hard shaft, or even my own.

A hard kiss on my neck brought me back. "Do you like that?" burned my ears.

Not Neill. I remembered where I was, what was happening and felt sick and horrified that I was so aroused over someone whose presence made me nauseous. "No," I gasped.

"You do." Lust slurred voice, hand moving faster, massaging my precum along my burning, prickling length. I just hoped to hell he wouldn't keep it up. My throbbing shaft wouldn't hold out much longer.

I shuddered as electricity flashed through me. The heat and pressure I associated with impending orgasm spread at the beat of my panting heart. "I don't," I moaned. I clenched my thighs, abdomen, bladder, anything that would hold me back. I would never forgive myself if I let Liam make me cum. 

Anger. I hated the bastard. Hated the way he way he was perverting something that felt good to hurt me. "Get off me."

Fury. I blinked the dizziness away. My eyes refused to look at him. I couldn't bear it. "Get the fuck off me." The revoltingly pleasant feeling of his fast hand on my cock provided the necessary stimulation to force my knuckles into his stomach. He released me, catching his hand in my waistband, before withdrawing it altogether. I struck again, in blind fury. Literally blind, since I still had my eyes tightly closed. Some mysterious source of energy gave me strength to slam his body against the sink. Quickly, I turned, no pain, and attacked the door. My sweaty, shaking hands struggled with the handle.

I lurched through the doorway. As I did, I heard Liam groan, "Who made the first move, you or him?" Why did I look back? His stitched lips curved into a smile. "Him. You're as straight as a fucking nail." I still cannot entirely understand why he said it or what satisfaction he got from saying it.

*

I staggered back to the room, forgetting everything except Liam's groping fingers burning into my scrotum. What hurt was that my cock had instantly prickled on contact, and was now terribly hard, on the edge of climax. What the fuck was wrong with me? I hated Liam, I didn't want him anywhere near me and his touch made me want to vomit. My mind told the hard-on to go away, but it wouldn't. Guilt ripped up my guts. I must have liked it, else I wouldn't be so close. What was wrong with me? What had I done?

By the time I got to the room, I had pulled my jumper as far down as I could, my pants up as high. There was no way in hell I wanted Neill to know about this. I brushed past him into the room, staring blankly anywhere but his face. My mind refused to quiet.

Neill seemed to immediately sense that something was very wrong. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

"No, you're not. You'd better sit down." He tried to help me over to my bed but I shrugged him off. My body flopped onto the mattress of its own accord, oblivious to any pain. At the time, I didn't notice what position I took or why, but in hindsight I realise I wanted to be as small as possible. I think I bent forward, head resting over the arms tightly protecting my chest. I couldn't take this, but I didn't want Neill to know. I was ashamed, angry, horrified by the way my cock had leaked for Liam's hands.

Neill sat beside me. When I felt his hand on my shoulder for a second time, I gave in and let him hug me. I couldn't say anything. My guts felt ripped out.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I should have come with you."

"You're not my babysitter," I protested, fighting the urge to rage, scream, cry, something to release the pressure. "I'm all right, really. I just got dizzy- Hit my head- Think I blacked out." The lie brought more tears to my eyes than the truth. I felt as though this was an okay vent for the terrible feelings raging inside me.

His hands pushed me away a little, so that he could eye me up. I didn't look to see whether he glanced at my groin, which I knew from sensation was still hard, the fabric slick and damp. "Don't lie," he whispered. "The truth."

The sight of those blue eyes, divided by a tiny worry line, teased a little more out. I still resisted tears. I guess I thought I wouldn't be a man if I cried, because in my mind this only happened to women. "Liam," I said. Couldn't say anymore.

A flash of anger in Neill's eyes, but his voice remained calm. "What did he do?"

Slow, steady. "Cornered me on the way back from the toilet. Really, nothing much. Just wanted to have a go over getting kicked off the team."




Seamus Ch. 05



"Don't fucking lie to me," Neill snapped and pushed me away. I recoiled at the raw fury in his voice, aimed directly at me, as if I had done something wrong. "Stop fucking lying to me!" His hand slapped across my face with a fiery sting.

What the-? His eyes glittered with a violent cruelty that I had never seen before. Neill continued to shout, smacking my face and chest with the hard heel of his palm. I ceased to listen, my mind focussed only upon his eyes and the pain. I was dying inside. I couldn't understand what was going on. My hands never came up to defend myself, I was so flabbergasted. He hated me! That seeming hatred was what made me roar with tears. "Stop yelling- I didn't do anything-! He unlocked- the door- stood with his dick- hard- in his pants- Touched me- Stop- I said- I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't do anything! I didn't want it!" Unsaid, was the guilt that I didn't do anything to stop him.

Immediately, the set on Neill's face relaxed, to its normal self. I saw a slight hurt in his face as I clasped my burning cheeks, trying to hide my tears. I started to back away, but he caught my wrist. His fingers delicately stroked my burning flesh. I was too scared to move. "It's okay," he said, like nothing had happened.

"What?" I sniffed, my eyes closed as I tried to stifle my tears.

"It's all right," Neill repeated. "You've admitted it."

Anger rose with the blood flushing my smarting cheek. "What are the hell are you talking about? I didn't do anything wrong! He fucking hurt me!"

"That's the point," he whispered. "You didn't do anything wrong. You gotta cry, you gotta cry as much as you need to, okay? Doesn't matter if all he did was stand there, mock you. If it made you feel bad, you gotta fucking let it out. You're going to have a messy head if you don't." 

I never told Neill exactly what happened; it was almost as if he instinctively knew. After I calmed down a bit, he got up from where he had been lying beside me and poured us both a huge bourbon, which he mixed with some flat coke he had left on his desk. At first, I refused to drink mine, but once I saw Neill knock off his, I had a few sips, before he drank mine as well. 

"More?" he asked me, as he set about mixing another.

"No," I said. "I don't think you need anymore either."

He ignored me and skulled another glass. "I love you, you know that, right?" 

"I love you too," I replied. "Doesn't mean I'm going to let you destroy your liver in ten minutes flat." I got up and took the bottle off him. "No more. Now you've listened to me moan and grumble about Liam for two days now. It's enough. I'm kind of okay with what happened, but it doesn't seem like you are, yeah? You haven't said anything except talk about revenge."

Neill's temper flared. "Because revenge is the only thing an animal like that understands!"

"Yeah," I said, "But it's me he's got the beef with. I don't need you to go and beat him up for me. I'll sort it on my own, okay?"

"No," Neill snapped. "Cos you won't sort it. He'll just get away with it again. That's why we're going down there right now and we're teaching him a lesson." Before I could stop him, he was out the door and I was forced to follow him, if only to stop him doing something really stupid...



Seamus Ch. 06



Author's notes: Thanks to all those who have taken the time to send me feedback, both anonymous and public. I love hearing what people think of my work, good or bad. It's so much better than looking at the voting tally and trying to figure out what I did wrong... 

I have re-written this piece several times over, trying to get the right mix of dark and light down on paper, and iron out the inconsistencies of character that arise when emotions run high. While Neill's behaviour is becoming increasingly erratic, angry and somewhat abusive, I do not want Seamus to appear a wimp. Whether or not that's achieved is another matter :-)...

*

Neill stood outside Liam's door. As I approached, I saw a ripple of uncertainty flicker through the muscles of his tanned face. He pursed his lips in an effort to look determined, smoothing his cheeks into a firm expression. However, the features above betrayed his true feelings. A mixture of sadness and fear creased his forehead and made his eyes unnaturally wet. Nervously, he brushed his shaggy hair out of his left eye. His other hand balled in front of his chest, hovering as if to protect him from an oncoming attack.

"Neill, just leave off," I hissed, catching his fist in mine. His hot skin was slick with sweat. Rather than gripping, my fingers slid over the pronounced bones of his wrist. "I don't need you to fight my battles." A growl rose in his throat as he shook my hand away. I tried again, "Come on, Neill, I'll deal with Liam. Let's not do anything stupid!"

"Oh, just shut up, Seamus." Both fists shunted me into the wall opposite, driving the wind from my bruised chest. "Go back to our room if you're such a pussy." 

I heaved a breath into my empty lungs, then lashed back, "Hey, don't talk to me like that! Why don't you just shut up and listen to me? He's got me in enough fucking trouble as it is. Neither of us are going in there. We're going to go back to the room and you're gonna calm down. Okay?"

"You can't tell me what to do!"

I'm surprised that Liam didn't come to the door. We were making a lot of noise. "Neill, I'm not going to let you do something this stupid. Let's just sleep on it!"

"Is everything okay?" With a flash of anger, I turned to see Nathan's head sticking out Jill's door. His pale skin was slightly heat blotched and his hair looked messier than ever. He didn't appear to have clothing on. 

Neill's jaw gaped. "Yeah, we're fine!" I shouted. I grasped Neill's elbow tightly before he could object and used it to drag him down the shabby hallway to our room. 

Once inside, Neill wheeled on me in fury. "Why'd you have to do that?" His hands clawed over my face and chest, driving a shriek from my lips. I shoved him away, a little harder than I meant to. With a bone-numbing 'clunk', his lower back contacted the sharp corner of his chest of drawers. He let out an agonised yelp that curdled my guts. Pain carved his features. 

"I'm sorry. Neill, man, sorry," I apologised, but I knew it wasn't enough. A glance at his reddened face and tear glazed eyes revealed an uncontrollable anger burning deep within. All I wanted to do was calm him down before I did something else I might regret.

"Seamus, why d'you have to be such a fucking bastard?" Neill snarled. 

I caught Neill's fists as he tried to strike me and forced him against the foot of his bed. My head felt as if my mind was swimming, yet somehow my legs held me. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I pushed you. Settle down..." He continued to beat his palms on my chest, striking already painful bruises. "What's wrong? What's going on with you?" I asked him, staring into his deep blue eyes. I smiled, or at least tried to; my grazed face was stinging from the contact of his fingernails.

He avoided my gaze, staring anywhere but me. "Nothing, idiot," he spat. 

I took a step back, breathing heavily. "Yeah, there is. You're angrier at Liam than I am. It's got me thinking that it's not me you want to get revenge for."

"What?" Neill snapped. His hands propelled me, stumbling, across the room until I struck my desk. It hurt like hell, causing my thigh-backs to numb for a second. "You've got shit for brains, you know that?"

Angrily, I grabbed his shoulders and tried to get him to look at me. "Don't talk like that! What the hell did he do to you?"

Neill's eyes focussed on mine, the pupils like tiny dots floating in a sea of blue. "Nothing!" He manoeuvred himself away from me, into the centre of the room, between our beds. I followed, clasping one arm across his chest from behind. My other hand tried to massage the bony area where he'd hit the drawers. He moaned and twitched. I half expected him to turn and whack me. When he didn't, I pulled him closer and let my head sink over his shoulder. As my warm breath caressed his cheek, he stiffened up, averting his face from my lips. I used both hands to lightly stroke his stomach and help him relax. Slowly, over a few minutes, I felt the tension drift from his muscles. His face turned to mine, so I gently kissed the corner of his lips. "Mmmm..." he whispered. "That's nice."

Then I did something stupid. I shouldn't have pushed the issue. "Tell me what he did," I whispered back. "It's okay."

"Fuck it, Seamus," Neill swore. He immediately bristled, breaking my hug to turn on me. "Aren't I allowed to get upset because he got my car towed? Because he beat you up? 'Cos he fucking made a pass at you when you couldn't stop him? He's been an arsehole to us all year, to everyone. He's got it coming!" With a sudden, furious force, he shoved me back toward his bed. I was caught completely off guard. His frenetic hands rammed my chest, forcing me down on the mattress. My aching head knocked against the solid concrete wall adjacent to his bed. Neill didn't seem to care. For comfort's sake, I shuffled over and drew my legs up as well.

I was tempted to encircle myself in a ball, but Neill had other ideas. It all happened so fast I didn't get a chance to defend myself. As I tried to sit up, muscles cramping my abdomen painfully, he leapt onto the bed. His body mass crushed me into the too-soft mattress, grinding my back against the slatted bed-base beneath. "Neill, what the fuck?" I grunted, knowing I was at his mercy. "Get off!" 

In a quick movement, Neill manoeuvred himself so that his knees were either side of me, effectively trapping my arms. His warm buttocks weighed on my chest, whilst his hands firmly pressed my shoulders down. Panic swept over me in a haze of heat as my ribs refused to expand sufficiently to breathe easily. I glared up into unforgiving eyes. I lowered my gaze, still protesting and half-hoping he'd give up soon. Without really being conscious of what I was looking at, I stared at his cock, which seemed to be boring through a wet spot to the side of his trackpants. As realisation dawned, I struggled more, getting increasingly horny and scared in equal measure. My heart seemed dislocated from my chest, pounding between my ears like it was going to explode.

"Come on, Neill- Get the fuck off!" I failed to see much in the way of a response. However, as I tried to slow my breathing and the minutes ticked over (or at least they seemed to), I saw his chiselled lips quiver and could feel his soft buttocks shivering ever so slightly through my thin t-shirt. There was that betraying line ticking between his eyebrows as he struggled to keep his expression unreadable. Suddenly, the mask cracked into a grin. 

In a last, desperate protest, I gasped, "It's not funny, get off, damn it! You're hurting me!" I shook beneath him, but couldn't escape.

Neill laughed. The ends of his hair brushed my skin as he lowered his face to mine. He lifted his hands from my shoulders and cupped my ears, forcing my eyes to stay locked to his blue stare. He took a deep breath and slowly spoke. "You've got to understand." His lips brushed the side of my face, teasing the skin.

"What? Understand what?" I asked, frantically.

"I care about you," Neill hissed, gripping the sides of my face tightly. "If you're hurt, it hurts me, and it makes me so goddamn furious! I just want to beat the snot out of the bastard for everything he's done to you! I know you think you can deal, but it doesn't stop me getting angry, okay?"

"And you had to sit on me to tell me?" I wheezed. My throat was very dry from breathing shallowly. "I can't get far as it is."

He kissed my sensitive lips and broke away as I began to respond. "No, I had to sit on you to get you right where I wanted you." His smirk coaxed a smile to my lips. "So do you believe me?" As he spoke, he reached behind his back and clumsily groped my bulge. My semi-hard cock immediately sprang further into life.

"Yeah..." I moaned, still completely bewildered.

Neill squeezed my sensitive cockhead hard, though not painfully so. "I said 'do you believe me'?" I could tell by the satisfied, smug expression of his mouth and cheeks that he was enjoying himself. 

Despite the pressure, I could feel my cock continuing to grow. Blood seemed to boil in my groin. "Okay," I croaked. "I believe you! I just think that as much as both of us want to kick the crap out of him, it's only gonna make it a hundred times worse, yeah?"

For a few moments, Neill just stared at me. A strange, agonising sadness seemed to cloud his expression. I should have realised then that something was very wrong, but I was stupidly more focussed on the hand pinching my cock. "I suppose so," he said, dolefully. "You like this don't you?"

"You're suffocating me," I grumbled. 

"Oh, shit, sorry." Neill hurriedly climbed off me. He sat beside me, running his fingers through my dark hair. "You know, I'm so angry about everything that's happened. I can't understand how you can be so calm." 

I shifted over a little so that he could lie beside me. My mind flicked over what had happened over two hours earlier. It's difficult to describe the mishmash of guilt, disgust, fear and anger rippling beneath the surface, or even the way I was trying to process it. I suppose I was in what they call denial. I wanted to forget everything Liam had done. I thought I could if I tried to pretend it hadn't happened. It doesn't work that easily; it always comes back to bite you in the bum. Still, that doesn't happen until you stop to think. And if you don't think, it doesn't happen... at least not until you sleep. 

"Let's just shut up about it, ay?" I told Neill in a final tone. "I'm fine." 

Neill smiled at me and his hand ran down my side, tracing the folds in my t-shirt until he got to my waist-band. "You sure?" he asked. My fingertips dappled over his chest, finding the hard nubs of his nipples through his blue shirt. He whimpered slightly through smiling red lips. Despite his bodily response, I could see disbelief in his eyes, but he wasn't going to push the issue. 

"Yep."

"Um, sorry I got so angry..." Neill whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you earlier, I just wanted to- I don't know, fix it for you... I'll make it up to you, promise."

"Oh yeah, I'll make sure of that," I told him with narrowed eyes, glad to see a noticeable shiver ripple through his body. His head flopped back, exposing his Adam's apple. His knowing gaze didn't leave mine. "Come on then," I heard him whisper; maybe he thought it would help. 

My response was exaggerated. "Fuck? What, now? You've just half-killed me, man! Look, I just gotta get a drink. My throat's sticking to itself." I clambered over Neill and stepped across the room to retrieve my drink bottle. My head ached a little and my feet were unsteady on the carpet. 

"So..." I eyed my sexy room-mate. He lay on his back, hair spilt over the pillow like a sunburst. His brilliant blue eyes gleamed against his natural tan. My gaze travelled down his chest, encased in a pale blue university t-shirt, to his baggy grey-marl trackpants. The thin fabric sheathed his hard, wet cock like an extra skin. I licked my lips in anticipation.

"So..." Neill paused and smiled at me, fighting away the doubtful clouds in his eyes. "So are you coming to bed with me or what?"

I grinned. "I don't think I should reward such bad behaviour."

"You fucking pushed me into those drawers. That hurt!" It was almost a growl. He stood up and advanced on me. 

"Don't get angry. You're supposed to be making it up to me, remember?" Yeah, I know; I was being mean. I just wanted to forget. I wasn't trying to use Neill, I wanted him to forget Liam too. 

I did forget, as soon as our lips touched. I put my arms around Neill, kissing him deeply and passionately. There was a warm feeling inside me that I have never felt with anyone else, not even Jill. The love, or lust, between us was like a magnet; as soon as we got a breath's distance from one another, we couldn't keep apart. Within the seal of our kiss, our hot tongues twisted and fought. I felt him shiver against me and my body responded in kind, arcing and rubbing against him. Everywhere he touched me, even through my clothing, tingled with heat. 

The drink hadn't helped my dizziness. My legs gave out and I wound up pulling Neill down with me. The spell passed in an instant. Once he was sure I was alright, we laughed and fought because we could, not caring about the clonks and bangs we made as various sweaty limbs hit the floor. 

He ripped off his shirt and lowered himself so that my mouth brushed his furry chest. I hungrily licked his golden chest hair, getting his skin hot and wet. His curls glistened in the light, slick and shiny with my saliva. His beautiful dark nipples hardened before my eyes. I teased him, drawing slick lines around each nipple with my tongue but not actually touching the sensitive flesh. He shivered delightfully, causing my sweating body to writhe at his response, my legs wrapped around his. Neill kept his cock from me until I finally devoured his left nipple, drawing a moan that vibrated my bones. He arched his pelvis down to rub mine. Heat shot through me as I felt his hungry cock press into my hip. A groan of, "I love you- Fuck- Neill," left my lips. He murmured back in kind, manoeuvring himself so that our hard members brushed in a rush of pleasure. The fact that it was through precum-dampened clothing only added to the blissful tremors.

Neill suddenly rocked back on his heels and stood up. I whimpered in disappointment. His blue eyes focussed upon mine, eyebrows raised, as if to say, 'get over it'. "Are you feeling all right with this? The bruises? Your face looks like shite." 

"Thanks mate," I muttered, rolling my green eyes. "You really know how to boost my ego... Yeah, I'm fine. You? Your back?" 

"You might have to give it a rub later, return the favour for this morning." He chuckled as he fumbled with his socks, bending to give me a good view of his tight arse stretching the light fabric of his pants. 

"Nice arse." I stumbled to my feet and gave him a pat on a firm cheek, drawing a scandalised look from between his legs. "I'll fuck that while I'm at it... After you've done mine, of course. Can't have you missing out." I followed his lead, stripping until I too was shirt and sock-less. 

He growled, bending up to kiss the hollow between my collar bones. Straightening up, he leant hot his forehead against mine as I caressed his shoulders. "You-" Neill laughed. "Oh, man. 'Course I'll fuck your arse, but I didn't think you were too keen on that."

Heat rose to my face, spread down my neck and across my chest. "I am," I protested. "I love everything you do to me." With a low chuckle, Neill pulled away. His fingers fumbled with the drawstring of his trackpants, purposely prolonging the action for my benefit. "What are you staring at?" he asked.

My eyes rose, hungrily memorising each ridge, curve and hair on his body. They traced over the hard piece of meat bulging diagonally across his pants and followed the ridging of curled golden hair emerging from his waistband to the triangle at his breast. Finally, I gazed at his face. In the midst of the mad pulsing of my heart, I had a brain wave. I was determined that this time, at least for a few moments, I would be in control. I don't like to be pushed around, and though I loved him, and I had basically given as good as I got when we argued, I still felt that I had a point to prove. 

"Nothing," I said. "Get on the bed."

"What?" Neill's eyes flashed to my face, which I fought to keep straight.

"I said, 'Get on the bed'. Take those pants off and get to bed!" With one hand, I pushed him backwards. My other hand ripped apart the knot holding his waistband and yanked the pants down by one baggy knee. His cock was pulled down and then flicked back up against his stomach. I desperately wanted to stare, but for the moment, I ignored it. He staggered out of the puddle of clothing and climbed up onto the mattress, visibly shaking.

"Scared, or just cold?" I asked with a smile. 

Neill grinned back. "Horny as hell," he whispered. "So are you going to take yours off, too?"

"Course," I mocked. "In good time." With a perverse smirk on my face, I slowly edged my pants over my hips, pushing the hardened tip of my cock down with the elastic waistband, so that it remained unexposed. The taut, tanned skin above my groin was revealed to his greedy eyes. I let my pants sit where they were and stared at him with raised eyebrows.

Neill licked his lips. "Get on with it," he said. I could see the air surging in and out of his lungs, causing the tensed muscles of his abdomen to lightly contort and flex. His big cock rested there, the crimson head gooey with precum and seemingly pulsing in time to his heart. Lower still, his pinkish balls glittered with the wiry, golden hair that grew all over his groin. It was a beautiful sight. 

I raised my fingers to massage his bulbous head, drawing the slick foreskin over the sensitive skin. An audible groan vibrated his throat as a thread of precum bled down his shivering cock. I ran the fluid to the base of his shaft with my fist, watching the sweet smile on his face spread like honey. The sticky, hot, ridged skin felt so good in my grip. My mouth watered; god, this felt so natural. Ideas of control and domination flew out the window.

Ducking to my knees, I motioned Neill to move to the edge of his bed. He sat with knees either side of me, and fed me his blood-engorged cock. My tongue came out and flicked over the hot tip, tastebuds delighting in the flavours I encountered. I bathed him in saliva and licked my lips, ready to fully taste my treat. He gave a nice, shuddery groan when his big head forced my lips wide. "That's it...Oh god, Seamus... Yes..."

I sucked and slurped on Neill's cock in earnest, taking more of his thinner-than-the-head shaft with every thrust of my mouth. My cheeks bulged out by his plum-like head. His gentle hands ran through my sweaty hair, guiding me forwards to his groin until his head plugged my throat and tickled my tonsils. I couldn't help but gag, moaning and jerking his cock in the confines of my tight, wet throat. I didn't pull back. Spit trickled out of my moaning mouth as I fought to relax my protesting throat muscles. I pressed forwards. The rubbery, hot bulb of his head slid past the hilt of my tongue and down my throat. My forehead leant against his abs, feeling the muscles flex under the skin. The coarse hair at the base of his cock tickled my lips and nose. I inhaled his musky, sweaty groin scent; he smelt damn good!

My mouth took all nine or so inches of Neill's cock, then slowly, agonisingly slowly, pulled back with my tongue lapping over the thick vein on his underside. "You freak, man," Neill muttered. He later told me why he called me 'freak' every time I managed to deep-throat him. I was the first person to be able to take all of him, both in my mouth and inside me. It had been somewhat of a problem, like some girls said it hurt, 'cos of the length.




Seamus Ch. 06



Neill's hips shook a little and he gasped as my tongue set to work. "Yeah!" A flash of warmth shot through my body, causing a bead of precum to spill down my tingling hard-on. I reached into my trackpants and found my shaft. The soft touch of my circling thumb on my weeping piss-slit felt great. Everything Neill moaned, my cock throbbed and electricity seemed to pass over my skin, leaving a lingering heat. I started to rub my cock hard within the tight encirclement of my sweaty fist.

At the same time, my tongue lashed all over Neill's oozing head. I drank in as much of his salty, sweet, bitter precum as I could. Flicking my tongue back into my mouth, I turned my attention to his balls, tight within their loose, hairy sack. My lips nibbled over the sensitive skin, then parted and sucked on each sweaty orb. Once his balls were flushed pink and glistening with spittle, my mouth returned to his reddened shaft. The fat, purple-red bulb of his head glowed before more eyes, plump above his shaft. I sucked him deep again. Neill's breathing quaked, "O-Oh- fuck, Seamus- Suck my cock! Suck my fucking cock hard!" His hips started to piston his cock in and out of my mouth. 

Cruelly, I pulled away. "You're gonna cum in my arse, not my mouth," I replied to his whinges. 

I crawled to my bedside cabinet to find some lube. As good as Neill thought his oil was, I wanted something a bit thicker. Chucking it somewhere near his bed, I climbed to my feet, twirling dizzily. My hands fumbled with my waistband, then wrenched down my pants to reveal my naked body in all its glory. I'm not trying to sound vain, but I was in great shape. My body was smooth and fully tanned, each muscle exercised and ridged, though not monstrously so. Watching Neill's gaze, I ran my fingers down my abdomen, over the muscles cording my hips and down my thick rugby-player thighs. I stroked my fat, raging red hard-on and smiled, causing the graze on the left side of my face to burn.

"Damn it, Seamus, stop touching yourself and get over here!" Neill dragged me back to bed. We thrashed around, me on top, until my sweaty hands found one of his arms and the muscular curves of his back and rolled him over on top of me. He roared as our hot naked bodies clashed. I felt his mouth roughly caress mine before it found its way down my neck. He probed, licked and sucked my skin, getting it so wet that when his lips brushed it, I could hear a squelching sound. "Neill..." I groaned as I tried to kiss the side of his face. My cock burnt against his.

Neill hungrily moved down my chest, soft lips parted over my shaking skin. His kisses were brutally masculine. Moaning, I grasped his hair to hold his mouth in place, arching my back as his tongue flicked over one of my sensitive nipples. 

"Oh man..." Neill breathed. "God, I love you, man..." His head writhed, smearing his wet lips and stubble over my chest.

My cock tremored and I nearly came, just from hearing him say the words. I took a couple of coarse breaths, then pulled his head up from my chest. "Lie beside me," I whispered. We lay side by side, facing each other. As we caught our breath, his hands gently ran over my sweating body. He was so close that the hilts of our cocks tangled and I could taste the flavours of his warm breath. Neill's hand moved slowly along my leaking, engorged cock, generating a hot prickling sensation that jolted through my veins like liquid fire. With a gasp of "Yes!" my mouth found his, my tongue piercing his soft lips. 

I pushed Neill onto his back, crouching forward with my knees either side of his chest, my arse slightly in the air. His shaft brushed the crease between my buttocks. I thrust back, enjoying the sensation of a burning, wet rod cleaving my arse, warming the sensitive valley between my smooth globes. Neill moaned and when I looked down at his face, he was smiling. "I do love you," he said, seriously. "You've been messing with my head for ages, I've just been too scared to admit it."

"Me too, I mean, I love you too," I whispered. "I'll show you how much, if you let me."

"What, you think I'm gonna say stop?" He took a deep breath as my mouth contacted his neck, sucking the skin into its warm depths. His hands rippled lower on my back, following the curves to my muscular arse. Hot, sweaty fingertips carved into the even hotter space between my buttocks, searching out my tiny, hypersensitive entrance. I jumped when he found it. 

"Lube your fingers up first," I protested. By the time my words were out, his index finger was knuckle deep in my rectum. For a second, my anus instinctively tightened like a cord, trying to force the invader out. I slowly relaxed, allowing him to press further into the thick heat. He thrust around for a few seconds, then pulled out.

"Okay, um, pass me the lube." I handed him the partially squeezed tube and watched him squeeze a sizeable gob into his palm. Gently, he used the cold gel and his skilled fingers to open me up. I was gasping and whimpering with need by the time he had got to three digits. The incredible feeling of three independent fingers twisting and thrusting in my tight rectum had my cock weeping like a tap.

"Oh man, that feels so good," I told Neill as I showered his face and neck with hot, tongueful kisses. Taking some lubricant from his hand, I massaged his pole until it glistened. His kisses became hungrier and his hips bounced his cock between my hands. My arse suddenly felt empty as his fingers slipped away.

I pulled his burning cock level and ran the leaking tip down my hairless abdomen. Delight spread across Neill's handsome face. "You ready?" I asked.

He laughed. "Is the Pope Catholic?" His warm, muscular arms drew me down for another kiss. "Mmmm... You sure you're okay with this?"

I threw my head up to look into his glittering blue eyes. "Fuck, Neill, I want you in me! I want that big, long cock of yours up my arse, is that explicit enough? Stop worrying or I'll start calling you nurse again." With a smirk, I rubbed my fingers through his golden hair, brushing it into his eyes.

"Don't you dare," Neill whispered, blowing the hair away. "It'll kill the mood."

"Oh, we've got a 'mood', have we?" I laughed as I moved down his body. I shrugged away his hands and sought out his cock. 

"Shut the fuck up, Seamus," he said in a coarse voice, but his face smiled back. The smile grew as I slowly ran his bulbous cockhead over the sensitive skin surrounding my entrance. It found my puckered, greased inlet without much trouble. Pressing down slightly, I felt my anus stretch wide to accommodate the thick girth. The pressure quickly released as the head popped through my tight sphincters. His shaft was thankfully much narrower. "Oh, yeah," I heard him moan as an involuntary shiver rippled through his body, all the way to the end of his prick. "You feel so damn good."

"Glad to hear it," I gasped. Gritting my teeth and jamming my butt down, I let gravity do the remaining work. His entire, slippery length drove into my tight anal fissure in one swift movement, an action I very soon regretted. "Uh- Ah! Fuck!" wrenched from my lungs as I fought to relax. I'm a wuss when it comes to pain. 

It felt like his cock was tearing me in two, forcing me wide open like there was a fucking fist in there. Though slick with lubricant, my tunnel still offered a lot of resistance. My rectal muscles tightened and spasmed, clenching painfully around his shaft to try and press it out. There was a sharp ache in the pit of my abdomen. My anus throbbed like a ring of fire. I slumped down, almost onto Neill's chest. He changed his position to a seated one, his knees supporting my arse, and took me into his sweaty embrace.

Soft lips manipulated my neck while his fingers ran over the rigid muscles on my back. "It's okay," I heard him whisper as his warm mouth suckled an earlobe. "It's okay, just relax, man."

I rose up a little and pushed back down, feeling that big cockhead slide inside me. As I pulled up, my arse sucked on his shaft. A shiver of delight rippled through me as his sticky bulb slid over the nub of my prostate. I drew back down, swirling my pelvis around as he hit me in all the right spots. "Oh fuck, that's good," I grunted and thrust again, moving his cock only slightly inside me. My rectal muscles relaxed a little and the pain started to subside.

"Mmmm..." Neill affirmed to my lips. 

Shaking and sweating, I squeezed my buttocks and pulled up a good few inches, then slammed down, encasing his cock in the thick warmth of my arse. "Damn, that feels good!" I swore as my body shook. A slippery heat drove through my groin, prickling and pleasant. Precum flowed freely from my throbbing cock. The thickened fluid connected his chest to me with a slick chain. I arched forwards, so that my cockhead rubbed against his hairy skin. His hand reached down and encircled the shaft. "Yeah!" I moaned, thrusting again. "Yeah, fuck- Rub that cock!"

Neill's thighs flexed and his hips bucked up, driving his thick pole in on my downward thrust. His cock juddered over my insides, pleasuring every tiny nerve fibre it touched. I squeezed my arse tightly, as though trying to force him out, and rammed myself down on his cock. My sweating buttocks parted as they pressed into his thighs, allowing a little more of his cock inside me. Neill's hands helped me draw up again, and we started a sort of rhythm, me pulling up, his hips pistoning his cock into me as I came down.

Neill was bucking like crazy, driving his cock home with every thrust. I bounced up and down, meeting his impetus with my hungry arse. More than once I heard myself gasp, "I love you," in between the hornier, lust-laden groans of, "Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Electricity seemed to be shooting from every point we touched. Hot, sticky sweat formed a film over our skins, acting as a lubricant between our bodies. His mouth grazed over my face, tongue out, cleaning the salt away. Much lower, his fist formed a tight grip around my cock, the fingers barely touching. Every time I pulled upwards, dragging the warm thickness of my rectum almost off his shaft, his fist rammed to the base of my cock. As I slammed back down, his thumb and forefingers forcibly stroked my foreskin back up over my sensitive, searing hot head. "Argh!" I grunted.

I felt Neill start to push me onto my back. I let him, drawing my legs upwards and outwards, then stretching them around his hips as he knelt between. His hands supported him either side of my body, so that he was kind of in a 'girl's' press-up position, except my buttocks still rested on his thighs. He started to thrust into me really fast, his cock pounding over my prostate. Jolts of pleasure rushed through me, again and again. I couldn't even voice how it felt, all that came out were wild grunts and gurgles. The air was scorching from my lungs and my heart was beating in one endless beat. 

"Fuck your arse feels good," Neill gasped as he drove his cock inside me, lifting our bodies a little so that his balls hung free to slap my arse. He pushed me back down, staring deep into my eyes as he spoke again, "I love you."

I panted back, "Love you too." 

He leant back and drew my legs over his shoulders. I tightly gripped his shoulders/back with my sweaty calves. His well-developed shoulder muscles flexed beneath my knees as he bent down to kiss my face. The action forced my thighs against my chest. Bruising kisses tortured my lips. He drew his cock back until the head pulled on my anus, leaving me feeling wanting and open. The entire length slammed back into my rectum, driving a shriek from my lips. It was agonisingly good. He repeated the action, building an uncontrollable sensation of liquid pleasure in my groin. With a roar, I felt my balls tighten and heat shoot through my cock. Hot cum blasted onto my abdomen and thighs in release after release. "Oh, shit, oh god, Neill," I heard myself moan.

My anus clenched and dilated around Neill's girth. The muscles of my rectum rippled with my orgasm, massaging his cock with my pleasure. His hips kept up a sluggish rhythm as the spasms subsided, gently thrusting his shaft in and out. As I tried to slow my heart rate and get my breathing under control, I stared up into his eyes. There was a smirk on his face and I kind of guessed what he was about to say. "Don't you dare," I whimpered.

"You cum too soon," Neill chuckled.

"It's not a fucking race," I panted. Heat rushed all over my skin and through the veins encased within. My cock continued to throb against my abdomen, although I could feel the pulse relaxing, the hardness slipping away.

Neill's mouth slid over my cheek and found my lips. "Poor baby," he mocked, in between kisses.

"Arsehole," I snapped back.

He laughed again. "Takes one to know one. Now let's see if we can make it shoot again, hmm?" His chest started to press my thighs back down. The smile on his face grew as his cock burrowed deeper in my snug arse. 

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" I scooped cum from my torso on my fingertips, and fed myself. The warm, thick white fluid tasted good. I fed Neill some too. The way he took it made me laugh, since he held my wrist and sucked each finger from his mouth with a pop. "Mmmm..." I heard him chuckle. His hips slowly started to work his forgotten cock inside my arse. I responded by running my hands down his back.

He leant forward over me, completely squashing my thighs against my sweaty, cum-slick chest. My rectum had relaxed around his cock and seemed to tightly cushion every ridge and bulge. It was heaven as he moved, ploughing into me with renewed fervour. "Uh-" Neill gasped. "Oh, yeah." I pushed back with my thighs and arse as he pressed his full length in, fighting each stroke. My back arched up, my hands pulled him in. I was sweating like a pig as he slammed into me again and again.

"Yes!" I shouted, "Yes! Fuck me with that big cock! Fuck me hard! Damn it, Neill, fuck me!" The filth continued to flow as I stared up into his smirking eyes. His blonde hair moved all over his face, in some places stuck down with sweat. As he surged forwards and drove his cock into my tight arsehole, most of the hair flapped onto his face, as he pulled back it left. His lips were a wide smile. I reached up and pulled his face to mine, flicking my warm tongue into his mouth.

My cock was rapidly reinflating. The thick, tingling shaft pressed upwards between my thighs. With every nudge to my prostate, I felt heat shoot through to my groin and my cock thicken some more. The heat continued to flow through my veins and spread to every surface of my body. "Argh! That's good..." I panted, breaking Neill's kiss. His cockhead shafted deep within my rectum, drilling over and over into my tight, sensitive wetness. I felt his fingernails dig into my arsecheeks as he crushed my thrusting hips against his. 

"I-! love-! you!" Neill slammed into me, punctuating every word with the slap of his groin on my arse. The friction was burning up my hole. "You've got such a-! fucking-! tight arse-! Feels soooo-! damn-! good-!"

"I love- you- too-" I panted back, my breath knocked from me with every blow. "Fuck me- Neill! Fuck me hard! Cum- in my arse! Give me some- of that- thick man-juice-! Clean me out- with your cum!" My voice was raw and ragged, growing rapidly louder. I reached down his back to the thick seam of hair running between his sweaty arsecheeks. "Fuck me-! Harder!" My fingertips found the hot seam of his crinkled anus and gently circled over the soft skin.

Neill let out a gasp, "Fuck- Seamus! Finger me-! Yes!" I felt my index finger break through the tight opening, into the sizzling, sucking heat within. As he drew his cock back from my arse, my finger pressed deeper into his. I can only imagine how it felt to have his cock inside an arse at the same time as being entered himself. "Oh- Shit, man! That's so- good-!" He slammed back into me and sent me into another daze of pleasure. 

"Harder! Yeah, fill-! me-! up-! with your big-! long-! cock! Fuck me, Neill!" Suddenly, I felt Neill stiffen in my embrace. He gave a strange hiccup. "Yessss, cum!" I panted. "Fill my arse!" I felt heat shoot into my bowels as his cock pulsated out jet after jet of thick cum. Neill was completely silent and barely moved. "Oh god, yes..." I moaned.

My eyes flicked up to his face. His jaw was slack, pulling his cheeks down in a shocked expression. His gaze was directed over my head, towards the door. "Sh-it-" Neill whispered through gritted teeth. I craned my neck and was treated to the sight of the door slamming. 

"Why the fuck didn't you lock the door, you shithead?" Neill hissed. He quickly climbed off me, dragging his cum-drained cock from my well-used arse.

"Shit!" I swore. "Who the hell was it?" I found my trackpants and t-shirt and hurriedly dressed. It's amazing how awkward it is to dress when you're in a hurry, but also how quickly you can do it. 

Neill's glare was filled with anguish and fury. "Nathan!" he spat at me. "He's gonna fucking tell Jill, you know that! What the fuck are we going to do? He's gonna fucking tell everyone!" His fists struck hard against my chest, yet I barely felt them.

"Hell..." I drew a deep breath. "I'd better go after him." I rushed out through the door, nearly bumping into Nathan, who was just standing there in the dim hallway (they only left two lights on in the hall after 10pm), looking shell-shocked. His dark eyes flashed over my face, then turned away. He was visibly shaking.

"You're gay," he whispered, dully. "I can't- believe it."

I caught his arm as he walked away. "Come on, please Nate, can we talk?"

"O-o-kay." He nodded and let me guide him back into my room. Once inside, I found Neill, fully clothed, in a foetal position on the floor against his bed. The air stank of sex. "The light was on and I heard- voices," Nate muttered. He didn't look at either of us. "I- sorry."

I offered Nathan the wheelie chair from my desk, but he just shook his head. "I can't believe this- I've known you since- forever. You're one of my best mates," he whispered. 

"You can't tell anybody what you saw," I said.

"No," Nate replied, still shaking. "I'm going to try and forget- I mean, I didn't mean it like that-"

"Yes, you did," Neill spat. I thought I could see tears on his face, but he hurriedly hid it in his knees. "You're disgusted by us."

"No- No-" Nate protested. "I don't care that you and him- you know- I don't care. I just- got a fright- I promise, I won't say anything to anyone if you don't want me to."

"And you're not gonna treat us any different," Neill hissed into his hands. "You're not going to run out of the showers after rugby practise if Seamus comes in? You're not going to fucking jump if one of us touches you?" 

Nathan's gaze slipped over to me, seated on my bed, feeling very uncomfortable. I hadn't really thought of any of the stuff Neill was saying, but clearly he had. He sounded really upset and I just wanted to go over and put my arms around him. I should have. I was just too embarrassed to do it while Nate was there. Lord knows why, since Nate had just seen as deep as it got. "I'm not interested in anyone other than Neill," I told him. I went a bit further, "I mean, don't you think that I would have got my arse-whipped by now if I got a hard-on every time I was in the changing rooms, or if I felt someone up on the field? I'm not attracted to other guys."

"O-okay," Nate said. I'm sure his knees were knocking. "I-I'm not gonna treat you guys any different- I won't tell no-one either- God, Seamus, you can trust me- I've known you since you were four! Why didn't you- just tell me- I'm your friend-" Nate is my friend and I did trust him. I just forgot that he gets angry when he drinks.

*

After Nate left, Neill and I cleaned up the bed, took showers and went to sleep in each other's arms. I could tell that Neill was unhappy and I was trying my best to help. I just didn't want to make him angry, so I left it. In hindsight, maybe some of the heartache could have been prevented, if he just talked to me... Or if I was able to read his body language better.



Seamus Ch. 07



Author's notes: I really wasn't happy with my last chapter. I was in a rush to upload it and I think that shows in how clipped the conversation is, especially with Nate; maybe in time I will post a revised version on the site, but in the meantime I am trying to finish what I've got. Secondly, this time round, I've needed to insert some plot, so there's little in the way of sex. If you're reading this to get off, go for one of the earlier chapters or find something else.

*

The next thing I was conscious of was light streaming through the tiny, high windows of our underground room. The golden light of dawn illuminated the white bedsheets and gave our intertwined bodies an ethereal glow. Neill's warm body weighed on my chest and left arm. My muscles were sore and I could not feel my fingers. Not that I minded terribly. The man I loved was curled up against my body, sleeping contentedly, the tears of the night before long forgotten. A strange feeling flowed through my veins and heated my face. It was satisfaction, wholeness, a feeling of having everything I wanted in my arms.

For the first time in the last two days, Neill looked truly calm. His head nestled into my chest, the skin smooth and free of worry. I could feel his lungs move with every breath. He made such endearing little whining, whistling noises that I probably would have laughed under any other circumstances. His fingers were clasped in handfuls of my grey singlet as if he was scared I would run away. 

Gently, I brushed the tangle of blonde locks back so that I could see Neill's peaceful, closed eyes. I couldn't help but run my fingertips over the contours of his face, exploring the warm resilience of his cheeks, the soft, thin skin of his eyelids and the prickly half-centimetre growth of golden hair dusting his jaw. He flinched slightly and muttered something like 'fuck off, Seamie', then seemed to drift back to sleep. I didn't want to disturb him, so I let my hand rest on his back and pulled the striped duvet up over us.

Eventually, Neill stirred and smiled at me. "Morning," he yawned. "I could get used to this..."

"Used to what?" I asked.

"Waking up with my head on your chest, your ugly mug smiling at me," he whispered with a grin. He braced himself against my chest and drew his head up above mine. His sleep-mussed hair hung like strands of misaligned silk around his face, causing his features to be partially cast in shadow. Not his eyes though, they glinted, large, fresh and blue, brimming with love for me. 

I gently ran my fingers down his warm skin and drew Neill in for a kiss. "Is that all I am, a glorified pillow?" I teased as his lips brushed mine with the strange sensation of my stubble stroking his.

"Yes, idiot," he told me, blue eyes flashing with mirth. "That's all you are, a fucking pillow I make love to. What do you think?" 

"A pillow you make love to? Not a pillow you shag?" I mused. My breath caught as his mouth went to work on my neck, teeth teasing the wet, spittle-warmed flesh. His hands smoothed over my singlet, the wrinkled fabric caressing the sweaty skin beneath. I pulled him closer and felt his morning arousal burn against mine.

"As much as I may have wanted it to be, it's never just been shagging. You've pulled me in too deep for that, Seamus," Neill joked between kisses, although I'm sure he meant it.

"Me and my magnetic personality, hmm?"

Neill choked, then chuckled. "I wouldn't say that! You can be a grumpy beggar when you want to be... and you're so damn obsessed with rugby... and your all-over tan and... you smell like socks."

"You don't always smell too hot yourself," I growled, wrestling him over onto his back so that my body rested over him. I ground my pelvis to his and felt his back arch in response. His firm legs parted and hugged me to him so that my burgeoning erection fitted into the alcove between his thighs. Only the cotton of our boxers separated our aroused bodies. I thrust down again, enjoying the smile spreading across his face and the way his breath seemed to catch in his lungs. "Are those the best insults you could come up with?"

Neill shot back, "Wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, seeing as you're such a pussy," but his heart wasn't in it. He was too busy groaning with need as his thighs tightened their grip on my waist and his hips humped against mine. I felt his hands snake their way under the hem of my singlet to lift the fabric over my head. "Why must you insist on wearing so many clothes in bed?"

The singlet became caught and I had to help him remove it. I couldn't help but laugh as it struck the wall on the opposite side of room. Neill joined me in my laughter. "Someone's eager," I teased, repeating his own words of a day ago. I let my lips wander over his face as his hands stroked my back. In an unexpected move, my warm tongue lapped the ticklish hollow beneath his earlobe, a place where I knew touch sent shivers running down his spine. 

"Not eager, just..." Neill whispered, softly gripping the thick muscle above my shoulder with his teeth. 

He knew me well. Small, tingling explosions of pleasure radiated through my flesh. I moaned into his neck. "Just what?" 

My cellphone, placed somewhere beneath something on my side of the room (as in, I had no idea where it was), began to chirrup the annoyingly bright ringtone I had set it to a few days earlier. "Fuck!" It had to be seven or eight in the morning. Nobody with any sense rings at that hour.

"Jesus, what the fuck is that?" Neill growled.

"I'd better answer it," I said, struggling out of his grip. I walked across the room, my hard cock bobbing through the black cotton-lycra of my tight boxers. "Could be a client." 'Worse,' I thought, 'it could be that something has gone wrong with Dad.' I don't know why I thought that, but when someone rings that early, something must be up.

The phone was buried in the pocket of a pair of trackpants I had been wearing the day before. A local number that I didn't recognise flashed across the screen. At least that ruled out anything concerning Dad. I flipped it open. "Hello?"

A gruff male voice asked, "Fraser, that you?" (Fraser is my surname).

"Yeah," I answered. "Who's this?"

"John Prentice. Sorry to ring so early but we've got to sort some stuff out. No doubt you're already up?" Prentice was my rugby coach. That he was calling me at all was a good sign. Perhaps there was some truth in what Nathan had told me about Coach wanting to keep the Disciplinary Committee out of my fight with Liam. 

"Of course, Coach." I shot a look to Neill, who was intently staring at me from the bed. He smiled and ran a hand through the mass of golden hair standing from the firm muscles of his chest. I felt a rush of heat shoot through my body - need, want, desire. 

Prentice had continued to talk while I studied Neill's body. I hadn't really been listening. "You there, Seamus?" he barked. That brought me back to earth.

"Yes," I replied. "Still here."

"Get your head out of the clouds, boy, and answer the damned question." 

Neill started to pinch at his delightfully hard nipples. I reluctantly turned away as he poked his tongue out at me. "Question?"

"Injuries from the fight, Fraser. What you got?"

"A few bruises, strained muscles, nothing much," I answered.

"Liam has two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a broken nose," Coach said, gruffly. "The doctors say he won't be able to play for a few weeks without risking further damage. The idea of having to find two new players as good as you two, even among our subs, this near the Cup, is a fucking nightmare. So I discussed it with the University and my assistants and you're gonna be able to play for us again. For the amount of fucking damage you've caused to Liam's person, you should be before Disciplinary, if not before the police. This is a big chance for you, so don't mess it up. Now I don't give a flying fuck what you were fighting over but don't you ever do it again with anyone, because if you do, I will make damn sure that you are not on my team to fuck it up for the rest of them. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cut the shit, Fraser. Get your arse down to the physio department and make sure everything's working as well as it should be. I want you to be fit enough to play in the next game, understand? Practise is tomorrow. You will come and apologise to Liam and the rest of the team in a satisfactory manner. If you don't, you can forget all this, 'cause your sorry arse will be before Disciplinary and off the team. You understand?"

"Perfectly," I replied. Coach Prentice had a way of putting people on the spot and making them squirm before he crushed them. It was useless to argue with him, better to just listen to what he had to say and not complain. That he was giving me any sort of chance was a wonder in itself. I was angry that Liam was going to get away with everything he had done, but anger would get me nowhere. Not being able to play rugby for a few games was a good punishment for him, though I didn't doubt that he was going to get his own back somehow. I know I should have said something about Liam's sexual harassment, because that's what it was, but Prentice was a gruff, rough, man's man and there was no way in hell I'd subject myself and my sexuality to any kind of scrutiny by him. I'd heard all too many of his racist, sexist, bigoted jokes to believe he would treat me terribly kindly. 

"Good," Prentice snapped. "I have no time or place for hotheads on my team. You always struck me as a sensible bloke, so use your fucking sensibility and keep that proud nose of yours out of the shit, got it?"

"Of course, coach," I said.

"I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he hung up. I flicked the phone shut and turned to Neill.

"I'm back on the team," I told him. I explained the conversation, including having to apologise to Liam. "And, Liam's not going to be able to play for a bit because I broke his ribs."

Neill took a second or two to reply. The muscles of his face tensed unnaturally as he tried to pull off a smile while his brow was furrowed. "I suppose that's a good thing," he said, softly. "I know how much being part of the university team means to you and your ambitions, but what are you going to do if Liam comes after you again? You're on the team as long as you behave. What if he makes it so you can't behave? I know you're not going let him touch you or do any of that shit he was trying to pull last night, but what happens if he does? If you can't hit him, then what the fuck are you going to do?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't know. I'll just have to stay out of his way. If I make sure I'm never in the position to be alone with him, then I'll be alright." I sunk down on the mattress beside him, my feet hanging off to brush the floor.

He watched me with a wary expression on his face, or at least I thought so. "Well, you know what I want to do, however impractical it might be."

"Beat the shit out of Liam?" I asked. Neill nodded, chuckling slightly. "I'm glad that you've decided that it's not a possibility. You were pretty angry last night."

"I had every right to be angry! I love you, and to see you getting hurt like that- it's just disgusting," Neill snapped. "I just hate to see him getting away with this shit. You aren't the first person he's done this to and if someone doesn't do something about it, you won't be the last either. I know that we can't beat him up and I know that you don't want to report him, I just don't know what the hell else we can do."

"Maybe we should just let sleeping dogs lie," I said. "We can decide what to do when Liam makes his next move." Neill's face had a somewhat crestfallen expression. The anger seemed to have faded to a hostile acceptance of the facts. I thought his eyes shone a little more than usual, but it could have been the way the morning light caught them. His right fist was gripping the sheet so tightly that his knuckles were white. I gently brought my own hand down on his and stroked the tension away. "I'm sure everything will be alright."

Neill smiled. "Of course it will be." He leant over and kissed my cheek as his hand cupped the back of my head to pull me close. "Everything will be fine."

We lay back on the bed, kissing ardently. His lips plucked at mine as his tongue darted into the velvety warmth of my mouth. Our saliva laced with the twining of our tongues. Prickly heat shot over my sweaty skin as my heart missed a beat. "I love you," I whispered. "I think I have loved you since I first saw you." I remembered sitting nervously on my hard new bed, waiting for my new roommate. Neill had strolled in like he owned the place, a smile that could light a room adorning his face. He extended his warm hand, making some quip about what a shit room we had wound up with. I felt instantly at ease around him. He always seemed able to bring out the best in me. "As I've gotten to know you, the love has grown so much. I can't believe how good you've been to me and how happy you make me feel every time I look at you." The words that I had wanted to say the night before flooded to the surface, yet once again, they didn't feel strong enough to describe the depth of emotion in my heart.

I had a lot of regret regarding what had happened the night before. I felt like we had had a cheap fuck, when what I had really wanted was to make love. All the shouting and gasping about how big Neill's cock was and how much I wanted a hard fuck had clouded or distorted my true intent. I lost control with Neill that night, just as I always did. The passion took over and raw energy rushed through me, spilling out of my mouth in a series of easily crude words. I couldn't stop my body moving harder and faster, thrusting forward to feel every inch of Neill's body in me, around me, running through my veins and filling the dark recesses of my most intimate parts. I loved him; he became a part of me. I needed him, everywhere at once, so that I knew that he was really with me and it wasn't just another dream. 

Love was there, beating strongly in my heart and pulsing through my veins, but I couldn't speak my feelings! After all the agony of believing that Neill did not feel the same way, I was the one that could only say the words when he prompted me with his own declaration. I don't know why that happened, I suppose it is easier to yell out, "Fuck me hard!" than "I love you! I never want to let you go!" Saying "I love you" bares you to the soul and makes you feel vulnerable to hurt from the person who could hurt you the most, the one you love. I realise now how hard it was for Neill to say.

Being caught yelling, "Fill my arse with your big long cock!" by Nathan opened me up to another form of vulnerability, the fear of ridicule. Nate was a very old friend and I did care what he thought, but whatever happened, I loved Neill and others would have to like it or lump it. No skin off my nose either way. I was less worried about Nate's opinion than I was by the way Neill had taken being caught in the act. His words had been short and terse when we went to bed, yet he'd slipped quickly into sleep, as if there wasn't really anything on his mind.

My mind was completely distracted when Neill smiled that beautiful smile. "I'm not one for describing my feelings particularly well, but-" I saw his bright blue eyes flicker from their focus on mine for a second as if he was searching for the right words. His warm hand stroked over my morning-furred cheek. "I love you, Seamus. You're the first person I've allowed this close to me. I've always felt scared about letting anybody know... how messed up, I am, I suppose. You seem to be able to stop me doing stupid stuff, and I'm not saying you're a glorified nanny, it's more that you sort of know what I'm thinking and can talk me down. I don't normally listen to anyone, except Jill, and she doesn't know everything. I don't talk about myself much, you know, emotional stuff, but I do love you. I want you to know that I always will." He kissed either side of my face, burying the warm swell of his lips in my neck. Hearing those words knocked all the breath from my lungs and sent my heart beating in overdrive.

Gently I stroked my fingers through his hair, causing him to raise his head until it was a breath's distance from mine. I could taste all his scents, the fruity kick of his shampoo, the stale tang of yesterday's aftershave, coupled with a masculine, musky sweatiness. His hair framed our faces, the ends brushing against my skin. "Look at me, Neill," I whispered. Excited, nervous blood pounded through my body. I could hear it drum between my ears, feel it throbbing at my pulse points and in the head of my frantically engorged erection. You require energy and faith to talk from your soul. Protecting your soul are a series of masks; reflections of what people want you to be, what you have to be, what you think you need to be. To allow somebody close enough to see you without those defences takes a lot of strength. I found telling Neill that I loved him to be the most frightening and exhilarating thing that I had ever done. I definitely wanted him to know, but all the same... it was scary.

Neill watched me with a slightly agitated expression on his face. His bottom lip trembled in a terribly inviting manner. I realised then that I could crush him just by saying the wrong thing; it wasn't just my feelings that were at stake anymore. The sensation of his firm hands on my shoulders lent me strength. We were in this together. I took a deep breath and finished my sentence, "I love you so much, and I'm glad that you feel the same, but I got to tell you some stuff. I'm scared. I don't want to be judged or abused by the people around me for being myself. But the more I think about that, the more I know that if people are my friends, they aren't going to reject us. I'm more scared of hurting you than I am of what people think. I don't want to do something stupid and wreck what we've got. I don't want to imagine what it would be like to not have you near me. I was so scared of telling you that I loved you because I thought-" I floundered. I couldn't voice the fears that had been kicking my emotions through my mind. I was so glad when Neill took up where I had left off. He was the only person that understood exactly where I was coming from. I just wish he'd been able to share that tiny piece of him that he held back - that scared, bleeding boy who was unjustifiably guilty and didn't believe he deserved to be loved at all. If only I had known...

Neill whispered, "You thought that I wouldn't want you as much as you wanted me. You thought I'd reject you and it would ruin our friendship, because to you it was only casual sex. The fact that I said I loved you and you didn't return my feelings would always be hovering there between us. You would become so uncomfortable around me that you would pack your bags and shift out. If I saw you again, you wouldn't want to talk to me or even worse, you would, and we'd have one of those awkward, sterile conversations. It would feel so cold and horrible to have to face you when you didn't feel anything for me. That's how I felt and it messed with my head like crazy. 

"I lied to myself, first that I didn't have any feelings for you and wasn't attracted to you. Then I lied to myself that it was just sex and we'd both get past it. It was never just sex. I felt- I feel like my heart's gonna explode every time I touch you or look at you. It scared the shit out of me for ages. I've never felt that way before; if I did, I would probably have had myself checked for a heart condition ages ago. Before you came along, I'd never worried so much about hurting someone. I was a love-em-and-leave-em kind of person. I didn't want anybody anywhere near me and I certainly didn't want somebody in my head! It's uncomfortable enough with Jill trying to second-guess my every move. But you're different, you're my friend and I trust you like I can't trust other people. I love you! I- I've never sat watching somebody sleep for five or six hours, so spellbound that I couldn't even pick up a book and so concerned that I thought just looking at you might make you better," Neill whispered. The glittering trail of tears on his cheek mirrored my own brimming eyes. 




Seamus Ch. 07



"You did make me better," I replied. My tongue lapped away the flavoursome tears from his skin. I loved the salty warmth floating on my tonguetip. Neill always tasted good, no matter what part of him I tasted, and swallowing his flavour made me feel somewhat possessive, like I was taking a part of him into myself. "You've spent the last two days looking after me. You made sure I ate, you rang the pharmacist and asked about my meds, you put me to bed, kept me company and even watched me sleep! Don't believe any of that shit I said last night, I owe you big time for what you've done for me!"

"Don't I know it." Neill's own tongue came out and met mine halfway, twisting and bonding to each other. We gently teased for a minute before I pulled back a little and started to work my way down his chest, gently tugging on each of his nipples with my mouth, my tongue whirling to cool the hot, tight nubs. Neill moaned and shook. I loved that I could give him such pleasure that he stiffened in my embrace, curling his muscles to prolong the sensation, then finally released his grip and softened so that his body once more fitted to mine, all in the manner of milliseconds. Each time I did it, I felt a corresponding fluctuant heat rush through my body. My heart skipped a beat. 

Neill grabbed a handful of my dark hair and held my face to his skin as I worshipped his body. My fingers stroked over him, teasing and tweaking a response until he was writhing against me. His hard cock burnt against my abdomen. I desperately wanted to drag off his warm, crisp, cotton boxer shorts and feel the glowing pleasure beneath against my furry cheek and my soft lips. I had every intention that I would. Just as I started to tug down the wide, firm waistband, his hand stopped me. "Not yet."

He pushed me onto my back, sitting over my thighs. With a gentle fingertip, he traced around every large purplish bruise that mottled my chest. In places the skin was broken and there were tiny scabs from the spikes of Liam's rugby boots. I had discovered it the night before when I studied my injuries in the mirror. Still, it wasn't like it was the first fight I had been in. My stiff muscles were no longer shooting arcs of pain with every movement and their tenseness had relaxed somewhat. "I hate that he's done this to you," he whispered. "You know what I should have done yesterday?"

'Not again,' I thought. "You can't beat Liam up, Neill."

To hide the dark expression that flitted fleetingly across his face, he laughed. A brilliant smile lit every feature of his face. I saw the laughter ripple through his body, each tanned muscle of his torso contracting and releasing. His dark, round nipples glistened with my saliva, achingly hard and ready to be kissed again. I couldn't help but trace his skin with my fingers, cupping his hips with my hands. "As much as I want to, I didn't mean that. No, I meant that I should have-"

"Should have what?"

"Kissed my poor baby better," Neill teased. His head bent, blonde hair falling forward to brush my chest. I felt his lips murmur across my skin, wetting and manipulating my bruises with his light touch. I loved that gut-wrenching, heart-fluttering way he could make me feel, so that even the tiniest sensation was like a bolt of electricity running through my body. His touch is something that I could never get enough of.

I moaned and stiffened, running my fingers through his silky locks. "Just when did I become your poor baby?" 

Neill made a small growling sound in the back of his throat, not unlike a suppressed laugh. I felt it vibrate through my skin, joining the pleasurable tingling heat that seemed to flow from every point of contact to my desperately hard cock. He raised his head while his fingers scraped down my boxer shorts. "I don't know." Then he grinned. "Actually, I do know. It's because you're the girl in this relationship."

"I'm the-" I exploded. "I am not! You're the one who collects old clothes and has long hair!"

"I don't have long hair, it's not like I'm able to tie it up in a ponytail," Neill snapped and laughed again. "Sorry, I've just been dying to say that. Come on, you shave every hair from the neck down, you must get some flack for that when you hit the showers after rugby!" You might be surprised, but about four or five other guys on the team did the same thing, and apart from a bit of harmless mockery, no-one ever said much about it all. To be honest, if someone had said something, I would be wondering why the hell they were looking in the first place.

I shivered as his hand wrapped around my thick, purple-capped erection. "I thought you liked it."

"Oh, I do," Neill whispered. "I just thought I'd point it out. I love how smooth you feel and well, come off it, neither of us are girly. You're just too easy to wind up."

"I am not!" I protested.

"Are too," he said. "Admit it, I know every single button to push to get you all hot and bothered."

Of course, Neill was right, but where's the fun in accepting that? In a solemn, mocking voice, I whispered, "You put too much faith in your abilities, Mr. Simmons."

"I do not, Mr. Fraser," he returned, with a smile. "I can read you like a book and I can get you protesting like you're on one of my picket lines with only a few movements of my mouth. Of course, I can also make you moan with pleasure using very similar tactics." His gentle fingertips rippled over the throbbing hardness encircled within his hand, catching a moan from my throat.

"Can you now?" I asked. "I should like to see that-"

A loud bang on the door interrupted us, followed quickly by a succession of smaller thud, not unlike extremely loud rain. "Anyone home?" A male voice queried.

I started to sit up, but Neill pushed me back down. "Ignore it," he hissed. "Whoever it is will bugger off if they don't hear any signs of life."

"Come on, Seam, Neill," the voice said. "I know you're in there. Open up." He tried the doorknob, but I had learnt my lesson and it was most definitely locked. Realising that, his fists struck the door again. "Seamus, open the fucking door, damn it!"

Seconds later, my cellphone began to ring again. I had left it lying on Neill's bedside cabinet, so it was within my grasp. 'Nate,' flashed across the screen. I showed Neill. "We really should talk to him properly," I whispered. 

"Seamus, I know you've moved the phone, I could hear the sound change! Come on, let me in. I really gotta talk to you, I've been up all night, you know, thinking. And before you say it, yeah, I don't do that much! But damn it, I don't want to talk to you through this door," Nathan shouted, his fists made a dappling sound against the door as each individual knuckle hit wood. "Let me in!"

"Hold your fucking horses," Neill snapped. My cellphone suddenly stopped ringing. "Do you know how early it is? Some people are still trying to sleep!" I was glad that Neill seemed able to converse normally with Nathan, albeit through the door. The conversation the night before had been very uncomfortable for all of us, but I think his discomfort was the greatest, as he had sat most of the time with his head in his hands, barely speaking a word. Afterwards, he had cried a little when he thought I was asleep. It was really distressing for me to see. I had pulled him to me, enveloping him in a deep hug as I let emotion take its course.

Neill got up and set about finding some clothing to wear. In the end, he pulled a bathrobe from the wardrobe and wrapped himself up. His erection still managed to tent the thick white flannel. I pulled my boxers back over my hips and dragged on some sweatpants and a long rugby jersey. I couldn't make my arousal go down and I didn't really own anything that would cover and disguise it.

"Are you going to let me in or what?" Nate asked, in a much quieter tone.

"Just a fucking minute," Neill snapped, loudly enough that Nate could hear. I went and sat on my own bed and leant against the wall with my legs up. He walked over the door and unlocked it, a terse expression on his face. "Do you have to make so much noise?"

Nathan stepped inside, giving me an uneasy smile. He didn't wait to be asked, just naturally sat on the chair I had offered him the night before. "Sorry," he said. "Just needed to talk." Admittedly, he looked as though he hadn't slept. The pigmentation around his hooded eyes was greyer than usual and his skin excessively white. His black, red-streaked hair hung lank around his face, like anyone else's normal hairstyle, but it wasn't Nate. He hadn't even thought to mess it into his usual style. 

Neill came and sat beside me. Nate's dark eyes flickered beneath their curtains of dark lashes, watching us intently but not making much contact with our faces. "Last night," he whispered. "Was a fucking big shock, okay? I wasn't really thinking straight and I didn't really- talk- to you guys at all. I just sort of listened and repeated what you said and- well, I went away pretty confused and I couldn't sleep a wink. I wanted to come back, but by that stage it was about three in the morning and I knew someone would bite my head off, or I'd be- you know, interrupting something, like I probably am this morning. I- I can go away again if you want, and we talk about this later."

I glanced at Neill. He was staring intently at his hands, a completely blank expression on his face. I'm not an observant person. I can't read subtle body language and I can't infer from what someone is saying what they really mean. I can't read minds! And reading Neill was like trying to read tea-leaves. It either couldn't be done or it took a skilled reader like Jill to do it! He should have trusted me with all the barbs of his past. I wouldn't have said half the things I did if I understood where he was coming from. "No, it's alright," I said. If Neill wasn't going to speak up and let me know what he thought, then I would have to make the decision for him.

"Well, I-" Nate began. He took a deep breath and his black eyes focussed on mine. I saw a strange look filled with complete bewilderment pass across his face. He started fiddling with his watch. "When did this happen, Seam? It feels like you've changed a lot and I didn't even notice it happening. You're my best friend... Why couldn't you tell me- stuff?"

"It's not the matter of telling anyone," Neill said, slowly. "You're the only one that knows and we'd like to keep it that way, at least 'til we get ourselves sorted out." His eyes rose to exchange a look with me. "Right?"

I nodded. "Yeah." Nate was still staring at me. "Look, Nate, it's not like we've changed at all-"

"Yes, you have!" Nate interjected. "Fucking hell, Seam, I didn't come here to yell, but don't you dare give me that shit about not being different! 'Cos you are, okay?"

"So what are you saying?" I asked. Those dark, hostile eyes glared at mine. There was something else hiding in his flushed expression, but for the life of me I couldn't tell what it was. "That I'm some freak and you don't want to have anything else to do with me or Neill in case our 'gayness' rubs off on you or some stupid shit like that? Real mature, Nate. I thought you were my friend!"

"For fuck's sake, Seam, I'm still your friend! I don't give a shit that you're gay or you swing both ways or whatever the hell else, I just- I just thought that I knew you- I thought you would tell me stuff that's going on! That's what friends do! I was straight up with you about Jill, why the hell couldn't you be straight up with me?" 

Neill slowly climbed off the bed as if oblivious to the conflict around him. His face was red beneath the wealth of golden nape-length hair that fell across his face as he bent to drag open his drawers. There was a 'bang' as he slammed the drawer shut, dropping a pair of socks and a towel to the floor. He grabbed a pair of steel gray, belted dress pants and a shirt from the wardrobe. He picked up his handful of clothing and the towel, found his razor, shaving foam and shampoo and backed his way toward the door. "I've got work today and you know, this really doesn't concern me- I hope you guys can sort this out, but I've really got to go and have a shower now."

I wanted to yell at him to come back and support me instead of leaving me to pick up the shit like he always did, but he was already gone. Nathan continued to stare at me. "It's like you wanted to get caught, leaving the door unlocked like that! Fucking hell, Seam- What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Nate that's bull and you know it. Yes, I'm your friend and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about me and Neill, but I would have in time! Christ, I haven't even told my own father! And if I have changed, Nate- Well, I don't know. For a long time, I didn't know what the hell was going on with me either. I didn't feel comfortable with anybody; or myself, for that matter. I didn't notice myself changing, Nate. You're not the only one out of the loop, I was out of the loop myself!"

He plucked at his dark hair with his hands, watching me intently. The hard, furious expression on his chiselled face seemed to soften a lot. "Seamus, I'm not angry at you and I'm not saying you're a freak or any of that stuff and I know that I really have no right accusing you of stuff. I just- I don't know- It was a big shock, a big fucking shock- And that stuff I've been saying and- Seam, of course you're still my friend! I know that you're my friend! What the hell did you think I'd do? Kick your arse and refuse to talk to you just 'cos you- For goodness sake, man! Like I said, I've been thinking about this all night. I just want to understand why you feel like this, 'cos- No, I can't say that- Throughout this term, you have become increasingly withdrawn. I thought there was something going on with you, I just didn't know what. I just- I just want to be your friend again like when we were kids. I know this sounds all messed up like I'm trying to say a hundred things at once, but that's what my mind is like at the moment."

I didn't know what to say. I tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace. "I'm sorry, Nate. Of course I want to stay friends with you. Hell, we met at kindergarten and we still haven't driven each other nuts or killed each other, have we? We get along good. I was going to tell you about Neill and me, just not yet, alright? I'm still adjusting and trying to figure out what's going on. I'm really sorry I didn't lock the door last night, I never, ever intended you to see me like that-"

"How do you know?" Nate interrupted. He had been looking at his fingers, still intent on destroying the strap of his Casio watch. Now his worried eyes rose to mine. The skin around them was beginning to flush red. His pale, full lips were attempting to smile, but his jaw could not stop trembling.

"Know what?" 

Nate shook his head. "No, it doesn't matter." He averted his gaze to Neill's side of the room. His hooded eyelids and thick fan of eyelashes prevented me from seeing what was in his eyes.

"Yeah, it does," I said. "If there's something bothering you, you can tell me."

He kept shaking his head. "It's nothing, man. I just got angry..." Then he seemed to think better of it. "How do you know," he whispered, so softly that I could hardly hear him, "that you're gay." His big, black eyes pleaded with mine. "Cos, I think I might be too."

That struck me like a bolt out of the blue. I got up and stepped towards him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, so I just stood there in the middle of the carpet and waited. "What? Why?"

"I- I- really like Jill. Hell, I've fancied her for ages, like since the beginning of this year, but she- she was your girl, so I couldn't- She- She's so smart and so funny and- and she's drop-dead gorgeous! I really- I feel good when I'm near her- but- but- but, god, Seam, why the fuck couldn't you lock the door?" Tears were bleeding trails down Nate's reddened cheeks. I reached out to touch his shoulder, but he flinched away. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Nate, if you're happy with Jill, then you can't be gay," I said, slowly.

"You were happy with Jill!" Nate accused. "You made her happy! She's always fucking talking about you, you know, you and Neill and her and how much fun you guys have. You went off with her and Neill and you left me alone!"

"What are you getting at?"

Nate shook his head. "I don't know!" he roared. "My head's gone to shit! Yesterday, I was fine and then I walk in on you and Neill and everything goes down the fucking shitter! I really like Jill, so why the fuck did you have to fuck up my head like that?"

"I told you it was an accident! I have no intention of messing your head up or stealing Jill from you or anything like that, Nathan! I just don't understand what you're on about- you're not- please stop yelling and calm down," I pleaded. This time when I laid my hand on his shoulder, he didn't comment or pull away. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, then sat with one hand over his mouth.

With a deep breath, he said, "I'm not- I saw- I-saw-you-with-him and- I got- It's fucking sick-I-know- I didn't jerk off, I'm not some fucking sicko wanker like-that- I just- God, Seam, I don't- I don't know why my head's all gone to shit- I spent about thr- three hours in and out of a fucking cold- shower- last night- and I don't know fucking what's gotten into me-" His voice was thick and unnatural. The tears were streaming hot and fast from his eyes. He wouldn't look at me.

"Oh, god, Nate, I'm so sorry," I whispered. I didn't know what to do. "Have you- have you ever felt like that about guys before?"

"No! Jesus fucking no!"

"Are you hard now?"

"Seamus! What the fuck would you want- Why the hell do you want to know that?" Nate glared at me, the tears and confusion momentarily forgotten.

"Then it was probably just some weird bodily reaction from breathing in pheromones or some voyeuristic shit like you get when you're watching porn," I explained. "It doesn't mean anything at all. Come on, it's gonna be alright."

He climbed hastily to his feet. His fingers grabbed my biceps tightly, like he was clinging to a life raft and about to drown. Tears stained his skin, leaving his eyes raw and frightened. Red lingered down his cheeks. He blinked twice, discharging more salty fluid to trace paths already forged.

"It's okay," I whispered. "Nate, you're not crazy. Your head's not going to shit. Everything's just fine."

"I s'pose so," Nate replied. Suddenly, he seemed to lunge toward me. His face loomed closer and closer, so quickly that I didn't have time to react. Firm, warm lips pressed against my unready, protesting mouth. An even hotter tongue dug between them, going in too deep, too fast. His thick sandpaper-like stubble grazed my skin. 

My hands shoved him off. He'd taken my breath away, but not in a good kind of way. I was shocked shitless. "What the fuck, Nate? You can't pull shit like that with me!" I snapped angrily. "What the hell were you thinking? That 'cos I love Neill I must immediately want to kiss and fuck every guy I see! I don't cheat and I'm not fucking interested in you like that! How could you do that to me?"

"I- I don't know! I don't know!" he cried. "Fucking shit, I don't know! I wasn't-"

By that stage, I didn't care that he was crying like a small child. I didn't care that he was probably confused as hell. He'd just brought to the surface all the horrible things that Liam had tried and almost succeeded to do to me. "Get the fuck out, Nate!"

"No!" He tore at my shirt with frantic fingers. I rammed him across the room, as far away from me as possible. He tripped over his feet backwards and crumpled to the floor. "No, Seam, please- I didn't mean to!"

I stayed planted where I was. "What? You accidentally stuck your tongue in mouth? It was no fucking accident, Nate, so don't shit with me!"




Seamus Ch. 07



Nate crawled onto his hands and knees and slowly made his way to his feet. He made no attempt to cross the floor toward me. "Seamus- Please- I'm a stupid fuckhead- I'm just so fucked up right now- I promise it'll never fucking happen again- I don't even know why I did it and I- I won't do it again-"

"How could you do that to Jill?" I snapped.

"I adore Jill! God, please don't tell her," he whined. "I- really-"

"I'm not going to tell her," I replied. "But listen to me, if you really think that you're gay, you should break up with her, 'cos if you hurt her, I will fucking kill you!"

"I couldn't hurt Jill... and I'm not gay. I didn't- enjoy- what we just did- I just- had to- check-"

I raised my eyebrows at that comment. I was damned angry with Nate for everything he had just done, but I suppose I could almost understand why he did it. "So what, I'm just some fucking science experiment to you?"

Nate frowned and closed his eyes. I could see deep, stomach breaths dilating and tightening his chest through his dark t-shirt. "No, of course not, Seam-"

"Don't call me that!" I snapped. "I hate it when you don't say my proper name! It reminds me of all those fucking jokes the kids at school used to make up, you know about 'a-seam-ed' ('ashamed') and 'seam-ful' ('shameful')-"

"It's a fucking nick-name, Seamus, you never told me you didn't like it," Nathan said. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry about everything! I didn't mean to use you by making a pass at you like that. I just don't ever think before I do anything. You know that, you know how I am. It really doesn't excuse anything, I know. I'm just sorry for fucking your life up. Every single stupid thing I've done, I'm sorry! I shouldn't be your friend!"

His final words really struck me. "You haven't fucked my life up! It was just a stupid, misguided kiss. You're still my friend, Nate. I should be angry, and I am, but not angry enough to accuse you of something like fucking my life up, okay?"

"Okay," he said, dully. He looked dead miserable. "I hope this means we're not going to be all weird around each other now, 'cos I promise I'm not going to jump you or anything like that."

"No, it's fine." I gave a half smile. Maybe it was time to change the subject. I can be a bit avoidant like that. "Coach rang this morning to tell me that I'm allowed to come to practise and play the next game. It looks like all that shit with Liam will blow over."

"That's good," Nate replied. I think he was trying not to cry some more. "You know what we should do?"

"What?" I asked.

"Have a party. I bet I could bribe Greg with some kegs and a few bottles of vodka or whiskey into letting us use his room. He usually doesn't care as long as he gets free booze and he doesn't lose his security deposit from somebody trashing the place. I mean, your room's so small, his is a fucking third floor mansion." 

"If you want." I was a little blasé about the entire affair, since I believed it was an excuse to drink; to Nate and most of my friends, every night was party night. That may be why I preferred to spend time with Neill and Jill. Though they drank quite heavily, they managed to keep up more interesting conversation than where the next beer was coming from and who gave the best head. I left Nate to arrange the party as I wasn't all that interested. I think he thought it was a way of making it up to me.

*

Neill returned from the shower, looking so hot that I wanted to drag all his office clothing off and fuck him silly, but of course I couldn't as he was already running late. Let me tell you something, he hated those clothes, hated his three-to-four-days-per-week nine-a.m.-til-five stint at that accounting firm. I don't exactly know what he did there, but it was something to do with typing and client databases and filing. He'd worked there for six months and his fingertips were already calloused. His eyesight had also deteriorated so much that he had to get glasses. I hardly ever saw him wearing them, since they annoyed the shit out of him.

I told Neill exactly what happened between me and Nate. He seemed happy enough on the surface with my explanation, though I caught some sort of anger or sadness flushing across his face before he hid those emotions. I let him borrow my car to go to work, since Liam had put his out of use.

*

The party was in full boom when we arrived. You could hear the bass and the catcalls from two floors down. I'm sure Greg or Nathan must have bribed some of the Hall staff into not fining them for noise pollution - in other words, they had paid the fines in advance. It's what they usually did. They didn't have to contend with Liam as their R.A.

Packed into Greg's large 'studio apartment room' were around fifty people. I'm not kidding when I say that. They had spilled out through the gigantic lounge with its two couches, widescreen television and huge sound system (paid for by Greg, not the Hall. I think he'd put the supplied furniture in storage since it wasn't up to his high standards. I'm certain that that was against Hall rules, but money can lubricate anything), out into the kitchen and dining area, the adjoining study and the large third floor balcony that was wide enough for a table and chairs. There was absolutely nowhere private, apart from Greg's bedroom, which looked to be both locked and barricaded. 

I was terribly tempted to turn around and drag Neill back to our room. His appearance was driving me to distraction. I could see his virile package swelling out the coarse fabric of his jeans, leaving me in no doubt that his cock hung loose down his left trouser leg. His white shirt was made from a silky, synthetic fabric that skimmed perfectly over his muscled shoulders and chest without clinging too much. An open, mustard coloured jacket covered his back to the pockets of his jeans. While it was well-tailored to his form, being about thirty years old and thus secondhand, it smelt like an old man. Still it was very Neill – he always did look out-of-place in the trackpants and rugby jerseys I wore. His tanned skin was dark against his blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. A warm, knee-weakening smile that could light a room decorated the muscles his handsome face. All in all, the sight was breath-taking.

Neill knew I was nervous about seeing Nate and explaining to Jill exactly why I had gotten into a fight with Liam, but wouldn't let me get out of going to the party. Our gentle arguing was one of the reasons that we were late, that and the fact that we just had to have sex. Of course, Nate, Jill and a couple of other people had texted us to get our arses up stairs so it was a quickie. I didn't doubt that there'd be more later.

We strolled slowly inside, pushing our way through the people and getting a pile of 'howzits' and a few 'congrats' about being back on the team. I think most of those there had no idea why there was a party, just heard the music and turned up for free beer (the bill for which Greg and Nate would undoubtedly share with me later). I was glad of that; I hate to be the centre of attention. 

"Hey, Greg!" I said. Greg was trying to persuade a blonde and her brunette friend to stop jumping on his couch. He had covered all his plush furniture with the painter's tarpaulins he kept hidden in his wardrobe for such occasions (he learned early that the scent of vomit lingers long after the chunks are gone). Greg was a tall, lanky guy with a Beatles' haircut. He was what they call a 'ginger' or more explicitly, 'a Daywalker', as his hair was a fiery, sun-streaked copper colour and his skin was pale yet unfreckled. He got some shit about his hair, but he gave as good as he got, and it really was part of his identity. 

Greg gave me a harassed smile. Just as he was about to reply, a scream came from the kitchen, loud enough to penetrate through the heavy bass of the stereo. "Fuck!" he swore, and that was that. He went to investigate what was going on.

Now that I was closer, I recognised the blonde girl jumping on the couch. She had wavy peroxide treated hair, heavily smudged eye make-up, and a pale lilac smile drawn on with lipstick. Her top was low and glitzy, while her skirt was one of those short, pink pleated numbers. Killer gold heels, pointed at the toe and undoubtedly stabbing into Greg's furniture, shackled her feet. "Becky!" I said, with a grin I most definitely didn't feel. This was the girl that had draped herself all over me a few nights earlier. I'm not being cruel when I call her the Hall bike, trust me, everyone, including some of the girls, had had a ride. She was a walking STD. 

Becky ignored me, launching herself from the couch so that her legs and arms were wrapped around Neill. I wanted to kill her. "Neill!" she trilled. "I never got a chance to congratulate your pool victory the other night!" Her stained lips were already buried in his neck.

I was pleased to see Neill push her off. "Thanks Becks, but I distinctly remember that you did give me a congratulatory kiss, so I guess we're even." He started to weave his way through the crowds, and before I could catch up with him, Becky had grabbed his wrist and wrestled him to an area where couples were dancing. The nameless brunette joined them, grinding herself against his firm buttocks, cradled in the well-worn denim of some retro flared jeans. He gave me one of those 'help me' looks and I thought I'd have to go and save him. 

"Seamus!" a voice called as I set off on my Neill-rescuing mission.

I wheeled about to find Jill. Her dark hair was tied up in a high pony-tail, drawing attention to her perfectly formed cheekbones and kohl-lined blue eyes. A black singlet showed off the curves of her milky skinned breasts, while her skirt was one of those long, bohemian things. "Hey," I said.

"Hi," she replied. "I dropped in yesterday, but you were drugged out of your little skull and Nurse Neill wouldn't let me wake you up. He really cares about you, you know."

"I know." I glanced back at Neill, who now seemed to be in his element, his hands rippling up and down Becky's body. The 'help me' look was replaced by one of his lascivious smirks. He actually poked his tongue out at me. I inwardly fumed.

Jill followed my line of sight. "He's a big boy, he can look after himself," she hissed in my ear. "Come on, let's go get you a beer."

I reluctantly followed Jill into the kitchen, where Greg was helping an Asian girl to pick up the remains of a vodka bottle. Another girl had a nasty cut on her hand. Her boyfriend was going to take her to find the floor first aid kit. Jill grabbed a couple of beer bottles from the fridge and guided me through the dining area, where somebody had set up some kegs on the linoleum. The guys there were challenging each other to drink yard glasses; long, trumpet-shaped glasses with a bulbous bottom that held about two litres of beer. I saw one guy get completely drenched when the beer flowed out quicker than he could swallow. Nate was in that crowd and tried to pull Jill and I into it as well. He didn't seem too miffed when Jill said we'd go out on the balcony for a bit and come back later. By that stage, it looked and smelled like he had a few drinks under his belt. 

Outside, we dragged a couple of chairs into a dark corner and stared out onto the night-lit campus. There were a few stoners and cigarette smokers in small groupings leaning against the railing. Their speech was nothing but quiet murmurs and a few laughs, a complete contrast to the raucous revelling inside. I noticed several couples making out, but didn't look too hard. 

"If you don't mind my saying, you look like shit," Jill said matter-of-factly. She was right, of course. The pink-rimmed graze along the left side of my face had dried to the extent that it was tight and beginning to crack. Varying shades of bruising dappled the opposite cheekbone and the bony ridge above my eye, which was adorned by the taut, black butterflies of four sutures. I would have looked like shit whatever I wore, but Neill insisted I 'dress for the occasion', if only to make him happy. So I found myself in jeans and a pale green polo shirt. 

"You don't say." I flicked the twist-top off my beer and took a long swig from the bottle. 

"Nate and I heard you arguing with Neill last night," Jill told me. She didn't try to explain why Nate had been in her room. "I'm really glad that you were able to talk him out of going after Liam. I don't want to see him get himself in trouble. I'm glad that he cares about you enough to listen."

I got the impression that Jill knew something about our relationship, but I shrugged that off. Jill was always one to get to the crux of the matter without thought for fickle things like feelings. Not that she was malicious, just plainly spoken and down-to-earth. "I suppose so," I said, softly. "Though he's got every right to be angry with Liam."

It was too dark for me to ascertain what expression was on Jill's face. She spoke carefully, though her voice was a pitch sharper and sounded dangerous. If she were a dog, I would expect her hackles to be up. "What on earth do you mean by that?" 

"What d'you think I mean?" I challenged.

Jill didn't say anything for a moment. It wasn't like her to hide things. "I know that Liam has managed to give you and Neill as much stick as he can this year and certainly that dirty trick he pulled to get Neill's car towed was a low blow. Whatever happened at your rugby practise should have brought to your attention that Liam is a sick fuck and he will use whatever he can to make other people's lives miserable. You and Neill need to keep out of his way because whatever you do in retaliation, he'll find something a hundred times worse to do in return. He won't think twice about it."

"What do you know that I don't? You keep on hinting at some deep, dark secret about Liam. Come on, out with it! Stop feeding me up on half-truths and little hints and tell the full truth, Jill."

"Stop being paranoid, Seamus," Jill replied. She took a deep swig of her beer and placed a firm hand on my knee. "There isn't a big secret, I've just been watching Liam lately and I know that trouble is brewing, alright?"

We chatted for a while longer, probably about an hour. Jill wanted to set me up with some girl she knew, but I talked her out of it. In the end, we wandered back inside and were immediately accosted by Nathan. He had never been one to hold his liquor particularly well. It had been embarrassing when I was at high school. Still, that didn't stop him binge drinking on numerous occasions until he either vomited or passed out. His blue t-shirt was soaked with so much beer that I could smell him from six feet away. The stained wet fabric clung to his chiselled chest. Somewhere along the way he'd chucked his pants and was now only in a pair of baggy Spongebob Squarepants boxer shorts. His feet were bare and ready to stand in spilled beer, spat out chewing gum, broken glass and whatever other disgusting things that had been dropped to the floor. When I glanced at his eyes, I saw that his lids were lowered more than usual and that they had that bleary 'out-of-it' look. "Where have you two beens?" he slurred.

Jill frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. I don't think she realised that action caused her breasts to bulge invitingly upwards. "I told you we were going outside for a drink."

"You should... have been back agesh ago," Nate said. He almost absentmindedly stroked a hand through her hair, or at least I'm sure that's what he intended to do. His hand was a little heavy and knocked a handful of silken locks across her porcelain-pale face. 

She immediately backed off a bit. "I think you've had a bit much, Nathan. Where the hell are your pants?"

He shook his head, as if trying to shake the alcohol out of his mind. "Um, Kev took them. I losht a bet..." He swayed a little and groped at her breasts to steady himself. "I love your titsh, Jill, they're sho... perky." 

"This is not a turn on," Jill snapped. She slapped his hands down. "You're out of it, I think you should sit down and stop slobbering on me." 

Nate grabbed her a little more possessively this time, dragging her curvy frame against his. He lapped his drooling, pink tongue over Jill's flinching face. "Now that's shlobbering," he lisped. "Mmmm... you taste... like- like flowersh..."

"Don't Nathan!" Jill gasped, jamming her elbows into his chest. She easily broke his grasp and started to walk away.

"Oh come on, Jill, you loves it when I licks you- espec- espeshh- your cunt tastes so good... like flowersh!" His voice was loud and quite a few people had stopped dancing and were staring at them. And laughing

Jill turned with the ease of a ballerina. Of course, ballerinas never scream, "That was my face you just drooled all over, arsehole! Fuck you!"

He made an attempt to shamble after her, but I caught his arm before he could go very far. It almost knocked him off balance. "Let her go," I told him, firmly. "You're just gonna fuck up some more if you try to talk to her while you're this boozed." 

"You!" Nathan accused, stabbing a finger at my face.

"Yeah, me. Seamus. Let's get you sitting down so you can sober up." Those were the same words I had continually told him through most of high school. He had seemed to calm down when he hit university, but lately he had shown up to rugby practise hung-over. I knew he drank heavily, yet I hadn't really paid much attention to him lately. That night was a bit of a wake-up call for everybody involved. "Someone get him some water!"

"You!" He repeated. "What the... were you doing to my- my Jill!"

"We were talking on the balcony," I said.

Nate's bloodshot eyes seem to flare, his eyelids flapping upwards. "No, you fucking weren't!"

"Yes, we were." I gazed steadily at him. It was impossible to argue with him when he was like that. I tried to placate him. "Drink this down, it'll-"

"No!" His large fist knocked the paper cup from my hand, sending water spilling on the carpet. "No! You're fucking poishoning me!"

"I'm not."

Before I knew it, he was on his feet, suddenly moving faster than I thought possible for someone that drunk. His arms floundered but they still packed a hard punch, knocking the air from my stomach. "YOU'RE GAY! YOU'RE A FUCKING FAGGOT QUEER!" For the second time in as many days I caught a fist with my face. "WHY THE FUCK YOU DOING TO JILLS? YOU SHED YOU WOULDN' CHEAT ON NEILL! WHAT YOU WANTSH WIV MY GIRL, FAG!"

I pushed him back, easily knocking him to the ground. I saw bewildered faces all around, staring at and mocking me, or so it seemed at the time. Someone had shut the music off. "I'M NOT GAY! YOU ARE DRUNK OUT OF YOUR BRAIN, NATE! JILL AND I WERE TALKING ON THE DECK! WE TOLD YOU WE WERE GOING TO BE OUT THERE! DON'T YOU DARE ACCUSE ME OF SHIT LIKE THAT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!"

There was a loud burp, followed by that disgusting chunky cough that you hear when somebody loses their guts. I heard somebody, I think it was Greg, yell, "Not on the carpet! Someone get him outside!" 

A few people tittered as the crowd parted to allow a couple of guys to drag Nate's now limp, groaning body out onto the balcony. I glanced around for Neill, but I couldn't see him. It's all a bit of a blur to me. "You too," Greg snapped. "Outside, you're bleeding on the carpet!" I found someone pushing me outside as well. My mouth was filled with the salty, sweetness of blood. Another split lip. 'Great,' I thought.

"Is it true?" a male voice asked, loudly.

"Of course, it's not true," Greg shouted. "Nate's just a drunk, crazy prick! Everyone knows that!" I owed him for standing up for my 'straightness' so quickly. It really was just as I thought. Nobody would really believe that I was gay, would they? And did it even matter? No. What mattered was that I had confided in someone I thought I could trust and they had not only broken that trust, but also our friendship.




Seamus Ch. 07



"Yeah!" a few other people agreed. I blocked the rest out, sinking into a chair in the dark, crisp night air. I don't know who was out there with me, although I could clearly hear Nathan being sick somewhere nearby. I shut my eyes and wished that my life was a videocassette or a DVD and I could rewind and erase the last ten minutes. I wanted Neill. Where the fuck was he? Hiding? Fucking Becky? What? If I wasn't such a wimp, I would have walked back through that crowd of people to find him.

Instead, I just sat there and listened to all those voices spilling out into the darkness from the warm room within. I don't know what was said, just knew that there was a lot of murmuring. Then the music started again and drowned them out. The closer sounds of Nate's vomiting and sobbing didn't go away that easily.

"Seam, you- out here?" I heard him whimper. "I'm shorry..."

Someone told him to shut the fuck up. I ignored him. "I dunno... why I shed dat... Seamush..."

Over the next quarter of an hour, Nate continued to babble slow, shambling, slurred sentences. "I'm sho shorry... Seam... I know none... of it'sh true... I... you and Jill... good friendsh... she... talksh about you... shorry... shorry... I... never good enuff... I'm not... jealoush... shouldn't be... you sho happy... I got nothink... Seam... I'm sho shorry... what I shed... didn't mean shit... I'm... shit... I'm shit... shorry... you fucked my... head up... you alwaysh better than... me... not... jealoush... I love... you... I know I'm shit... not good enuff... can't tell you why... I'm sho shorry... Seam... are you listhenink... I lovesh you... my friend... but I'm not... good enuff... ever... you... ignoresh me... I'm sho shorry... sho... sho... shorry... can't trusht me... with... anythink... shorry... love you... what I shed didn't mean... shit..." 

 Author's comment: So what do you think? Leave a comment, yell at me, give me your opinion. I think the next chapter will be the end... 



Seamus Ch. 08



Author's notes: I know that this will act as a bit of a 'spoiler', but I do need to make a brief warning about this chapter. It deals with binge drinking and self-mutilation and it's quite angsty. I'm hitting on some painful subjects and I would not want to make anybody relive past experiences or be offended or hurt by the content of this story. You have been forewarned....

*

It was the witching hour, half past midnight. Other party-goers may have said the night was still young. To me, both the night and my friendship to Nathan Hennessey were over. I saw Nate as a paranoid, drunken bigot who could join Liam on my list of people who could go fuck themselves. I leaned carefully against the concrete balustrade on the far end of the third-floor balcony, away from the smokers and murmuring couples. The ashes of burning weed and a few cigarettes drifted through the chilly night air and curled into my nostrils and mouth. The flavoursome scent of hemp offered comfort to my shattered nerves, reminding me of my absent lover, Neill. 

I was angry and alone. The guys that had taken Nathan back to his bedroom had had the sense to stop talking to me after I told them to 'Fuck off!' Greg had come to offer words of wisdom, but I'd been too angry to listen or to thank him for sticking up for me. I gazed down upon the campus, lit by bleary lamps with halos of orange and white-violet. The light glinted on the night-dampened asphalt paths and shone in the windows of the buildings. It was like looking down upon a disorderly architectural timeline. Old carved stone buildings jostled with wooden and brick buildings. Towering 1970's monstrosities that had ugly glued-pebble facades competed with modern lecture theatres and laboratories which stood gleaming in the dark like alien glass monuments. Intermingled were the proud autumn skeletons of massive oak trees. 

I had to find Neill, either to rescue him from the siren clutches of Becky or to draw him from a sobbing foetal position into my arms. Wherever he was, I was certain that he would be agonising over Nathan's 'fucking faggot queer' announcement. I knew that he wasn't ready for all this. He was vulnerable and scared. With that in mind, I turned and pushed my way inside, through the throngs of people who were staring at me like I had grown an extra appendage. The music had stopped again; I mentally vowed to hunt down and kill the wanker who was in charge of the stereo. I was in one of those homicidal, unreasonable moods. Nate was at the top of my hit-list.

"What is everyone staring at?" I asked, loudly. "Hennessey is a fucking paranoid wanker. Jill and I are friends! We were talking on the balcony! There were about twenty other people out there, so it would be pretty damn hard and pretty damn stupid to get it on or whatever other shit Nate imagined we were doing without someone else saying something! I'm not getting back with Jill, nor am I gay! I'm angry as hell with Nate, I was only trying to help him sober up and he lashed out at me like that! As far as I'm concerned, he can go fuck himself! Are there any questions?" When nobody spoke up, I repeated, "ARE THERE ANY FUCKING QUESTIONS? No? Well, I hope that this is the end of the matter. This is supposed to be a happy night! I've just gotten back on the rugby team and I don't need shit like this."

There was only time for a few questions and words of support from my captive, staring audience before Greg let out a yell that there was a keg competition. Slowly, the music and partying started again and people lost interest in me. I glanced around but Neill was nowhere to be seen. I spotted Becky groping a dark-haired man and felt a little relief. At least she wasn't with Neill... which meant that my second thought was most likely correct. My heart sank further into my gut. I felt like I couldn't ask just anyone where Neill was without raising suspicion. Maybe Greg had seen him.

I found Greg in the kitchen, cleaning up another mess. I felt sorry for him. Nate and I had imposed this party on him without really asking about his thoughts. It was odd that he had commenced the next round of drinking games though. I'm not saying that Greg was a straight-laced guy; he did have his fun, just not when it was his apartment as the venue that was likely to be trashed. I helped him put the empties in a rubbish bag and apologised for yelling at him on the balcony.

"Nah, it's alright," Greg said. "I know you're feeling pretty upset."

Taking a deep breath, I replied, "Yeah, I was. Still am." 

With a toothy grin, Greg picked up the rubbish bag and tied it off. "I know you'd rather be looking for Neill than helping me with this. I can tell you where he is – he went back to his room ages before Nathan had his tantrum. He didn't hear a thing. And before you ask how I know you're worried about him, you look like a dog who can't remember where he buried his bone."

I realised then that Greg knew about me and Neill. "Oh god," I whispered. "Am I that obvious?"

He shook his head. "Not really, I just watch people- not in a dodgy way- and I noticed that you guys couldn't help but touch each other, almost unconsciously, like you don't even know that you're doing it. You two always seem to pick up on what the other one's getting at long before anyone else does. And you're always happier if Neill's with you. It's okay though, I mean- I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. 

There was a lump in my throat as I thought about Greg had said. He was a good friend and I felt like I had taken him for granted, especially with imposing tonight's party on his room. "Thank you," I croaked. "For what you did after Nate said that stuff- I'm really sorry about this whole party thing. I promise I'll come by tomorrow and help you clean up."

Greg smiled. "Hey, that'd be cool... Look, um, there's one more thing. I know that you are angry at Nate. Shit, I'm furious with him myself! But lately, he hasn't been too happy with himself. He perked up when he picked up with Jill and then tonight he was back down in the dumps, even before he started drinking. I know what he said was pretty unforgivable but I think you should bear in mind that he's not doing so good before you have a go at him. He never used to drink like this, Seamus, and he's missing lectures." 

"He's never been a model student," I snapped. "As for the drinking, he was like this all the way through high school. He was a total fucking embarrassment then too. s far as I'm concerned, he can go fuck himself."

*

I tried the handle of my room. The peeling white door was locked. I knocked, but there was no reply from within. Where was Neill? Remembering his behaviour that morning, I considered that he might be ignoring my knocking. "Neill, it's me. Can you open the door? I don't have any keys."

After a few seconds, the door was opened. Neill stood there in a pair of grey pyjama bottoms. His golden hair was dishevelled and slightly flat on one side, as if he had been lying down. He scowled at me. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been waiting up for you for about three hours! Don't you look at your phone?"

"Don't yell at me," I said quietly, but there was a dangerous edge to my voice. I shuffled into the room and collapsed on my bed. Neill shut and locked the door.

When he faced me I saw that his expression had softened and worry creased his forehead. I stared into blue eyes that were filled with a mixture of emotions; love, anxiety, sympathy and pain. "Seamus, what happened? Are you alright?" He sat down on the bed beside me. The simple touch of his hand on mine was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I had not realised that beneath my fury at Nate was a deep, painful wound. Seventeen years of friendship were gone. I had stood by him through all the trouble in high school and this was how he repaid me? I trusted him and once again he'd let me down.

I scrunched my eyes shut. I still wasn't comfortable with letting Neill see me cry. It sounds stupid, I know, but it made me feel weak. "Nate," I whispered. "Got drunk and convinced himself that... I... was trying to seduce Jill... so while I was trying to sober him up... he attacked me... he shouted in front of everyone... called me a pile of names... faggot... queer... Greg... Greg, he had figured us out ages ago... so he protected me... said that Nate was crazy and drunk and it wasn't true..."

Neill pulled me into his arms. I sank my face into his shoulder and began to sob. "I can't believe that Nathan would do something like that," Neill said. I was surprised that he didn't ask what other people had said, surprised that he didn't go and curl himself into a ball, scared with the knowledge that the truth was coming out. I suppose I had underestimated him. He was more concerned about me than about himself. "How could he? I thought that although he was pretty messed up and confused this morning, he understood what was going on with you. It's horrible. I thought he was your friend."

"So did I." I closed my eyes again and begged the tears to stop. I had to be strong. 

"Fucking hell, I can't believe he did that!"

"Yeah, I know. I'm angry as hell..." I said. "Look, I don't really want to talk about it anymore."

"But you're okay, right?" Neill's voice was soft and like a breeze it was light yet had power behind it. His unnervingly deep blue eyes flickered from my face for a second and then returned to mine. I saw a strange intensity in them that made me unwilling to blink or look away. As if to prevent that happening, Neill's gentle palm cupped my jaw, his fingers hooking into the alcove beneath my ear. 

"I'm fine," I replied. My needful lips pushed forward until our noses nearly met. "I just don't want to even think about him ever again. It just fucking annoys me..."

"You don't sound fine-"

"Please- I just can't talk about him right now, okay? I want to be here with you. I don't want to be thinking about Nate or why the hell he did it or any of the fucked up things he said, 'cos it'll do my head in and it'll fuck things up with you. I just want it to be us, alright?" Even though my words were harsh, my hands were gentle. I ran my fingertips through his hair and listened to the little gasp it caused. We were close enough to kiss, but we didn't. I contented myself with tasting the warm breath that flooded from his lips to mine and staring into those blue eyes. I was mesmerised.

Neill pulled back, leaving his warm hand to gently support my jaw. "Just us, then," he whispered.

There was silence for a little while as we just stared at each other. Finally, I broke it. "Anyway, how the hell did you manage to get away from Becky? From what I've heard, if she wants you she won't leave you alone until she either gets you or is surgically removed."

"This is uncomfortable," Neill said. "I don't mean what we're talking about, I mean how we're sitting. Let's take some clothes off and lie down. I know it sounds fucking needy, but I need it. Besides, I promise my intentions are all good."

That drew a laugh from me. "I'm feeling pretty needy too." In a matter of seconds, I was standing before him naked. A pleasant tingling sensation alerted me that my cock was becoming rapidly engorged. Neill wasn't even touching me. It was just that look of hungry love in his blue eyes that set me off. I loved that my presence made him horny and happy. "Whose bed?" I asked. My skin prickled a little in the cold air. They never turned the heating on until it was actually snowing and that would be a few weeks away at the very least.

Neill dropped his pyjamas, revealing a similar state of excitement. His stiffening cock was not yet at its full length. It sort of pointed outward from his body and tried to strain upwards. The pale, tight foreskin, soft like velvet to my touch, was still stretched over the expanding bulb of his cockhead. Only a little of the flushed flesh hidden beneath was able to be seen, although more would be revealed as the swelling forced the tight skin to retreat to ridge at the base of the red glans. I couldn't help it. My hand grabbed his shaft possessively, feeling the soft skin tremor and fill with warm blood, growing hotter, harder, thicker and longer as the blood forced those sensitive tissues to expand. Neill groaned as I gave him a couple of strokes. "My bed." In between a couple of shuddering breaths, he added, "It's too soft, but I prefer it to yours. Your mattress is as hard as the hobs of hell."

I laughed. "So are you." He let me lead him to the bed by his cock, stopping only to pull back the covers and move the pillows apart so that both our heads would be cushioned. I reluctantly released my grip as we lay down face to face on our sides, our legs intertwined and hands on each other's backs. "So tell me now, how did you remove yourself from the clutches of Becky, lover?" I asked, with a mocking sensuality. My cock slid next to his, the soft skins touching in a comforting way, until it almost seemed like we were one flesh. I closed my eyes.

"I told her I had warts."

My eyes snapped open. "You what?!"

It was Neill's turn to laugh. "I'm kidding! See, I told you, you're so easy to wind up! Nah, I told her I needed to go to the toilet. There was a queue, too many damn girls. And Becky decided she would wait with me, which was great fun." He rolled his eyes. "She tried to get in there with me, but I shut the door before she could. I didn't know how I was going to get out. Fuck, I thought she was gonna stand outside the door and wait for me all night! She started knocking on the door, checking up on me. So I had to go back out there. Then she decided she needed to use the toilet too. That's when I made my escape."

"She didn't miss you much," I said. "When I left the party, she was sucking some other poor bugger's face."

"That's good." Despite the calm words, an anxious expression flooded Neill's face. The little frown-line appeared between his dark eyebrows, the one that sort of twitched when he was worried. 

Was it regret that I saw? That instead of being curled up in a girl's arms tonight, he was with me? Knowing how much he loved me, I didn't think that that would be true, but it seemed like the only explanation. "Are you jealous of that guy?" As soon as I opened my stupid mouth, a better explanation came to mind... Nate's revelation, the vulnerability and fear of people knowing that we were together. It was too late to add that.

A short cough and a smile flushed his face. "Do you think I'm crazy? Hell, no! That poor guy's dick'll probably fall off tomorrow!"

"Are you worried about what people are saying now that Nate's made that public outburst? 'Cos when I deflected it, I sort of talked a bit more about not being with Jill than about not being gay. I thought that that way people would think that the gay part was an added insult on top of his crazy accusations about Jill and me."

He looked at me for the longest time, then said, "I'll face that when it comes... Promise you won't laugh at this...?" I nodded, wondering what the hell he was talking about. "What I was thinking about, and it's not really a worry, is that all time Becky was rubbing against me, I wasn't aroused, not even you know, physically." 

"She's not exactly attractive is she? I mean, you look at her and you wonder where she's been," I sneered. "You know what though, I was so jealous when I saw you with her. I'm glad she couldn't turn you on." I saw a haunted sadness in his expression and I was afraid I'd said the wrong thing. "It's alright! I love you!" My lips brushed across his anxious forehead, driving the tension away. "I love you!" I whispered again as I kissed his chin. "I love you!" My mouth found each of his cheeks. "You don't ever have to be afraid that I'll laugh at you. Yes, I might mock you from time to time, but nothing vicious or malicious. I promise I won't ever tell anyone something that they could use to hurt you." 

Neill smiled. His lips brushed mine tenderly, a mere stroking of soft skin against soft skin. "I'm glad to hear that. We have wasted so much time, haven't we? If we hadn't been so scared of what we were feeling and gone with the flow... Well, at least we managed to finally get here. I love you too." 

I tried to reply, but his mouth had taken complete possession of mine. My fingers curled into fists, my entire body stiffened to prolong that wonderful sensation of Neill's kiss. I felt my heart leap in my chest as heat and electricity roped through me, binding every pin-prick of pleasure to my cock. His warm lips pulsed against my mouth, taking me, owning me. He ravaged my lower lip, plucking it between his, skimming it with his teeth. When I moaned with need, his soothing tongue shot over the enflamed flesh, tracing and finding every contour of my lips. 

He left his mouth open to attack. I penetrated its soft, wet cavern with my loving tongue, seizing it and making it mine. His tongue had no choice but to come back and defend its home. We fought; warm, muscular tongues jousting and darting around each other, our hands raking flexing muscles to pull ourselves as close to each other as possible. We writhed against each other, running our hard cocks over our sweating abdomens, feeling each of our bodies swell with pleasure. Our breathing was thunderous. 

"Fuck!" Neill groaned, breaking the kiss. 

"I love you," I gasped in his ear. "I love you so, so much." My mouth set about exploring the body I knew and loved so well. I tugged on his hard, brown nipples until he arched off the bed and begged me to fuck him. I hadn't even gotten to his cock. "Not yet," I whispered, then nipped his sensitive earlobe. "Where's your massage oil?"

He leant across me and fumbled in the top drawer of his bedside cabinet, handing me the ¾ full bottle of golden, rose-scented oil. "Am I getting a rub-down?" he asked, with a horny smirk.

I took his cock gently in my hand and stroked him for a second with a frustratingly light touch. With a grin of my own I told him, "Only if you promise to be very, very good."

Needless to say, he promised. I had him roll onto his front as I straddled his thighs. My erection was nearly flat against my stomach. My crinkled foreskin was concertinaed at base of its leaking, purple head. I ignored my cock. 

The white cap flicked back from the bottle with a clicking noise. Instantly, the powerful scent of roses teased my nostrils. I squirted a liberal amount down the muscular furrow of his spine and watched it pool in the curve of his back and bleed onto the bedcovers, not caring that this was probably another set of sheets we would ruin. I remembered what he had done when he had massaged me and hoped I could have him as hot and bothered as he had had me.

My fingertips pressed into the oil, slowly circling over his skin. They dug into his flesh, making him moan in pleasure. I ran my hands up over his shoulders, concentrating on every ridge of muscle on the way to ensure every part of him got my love and attention, then drawing back down his spine, teasing those twitching buttocks. I reached lower and rubbed my hands over his thighs. The way he tensed and arched off the bed at my touch caused me to shiver in anticipation. I let my palms knead his buttocks, pressing down hard, forcing his most intimate part to be displayed as I pushed my hands toward his sides. The brown pigmented flesh clenched itself tightly, as if the pink lining it hid was shy of my sight. My thumb lightly brushed the golden hairs that sought to protect that opening. His anus dilated. We both shuddered and moaned with need. 

I wondered if there was still cum inside Neill from the quickie we had had before the party. I liked to imagine my thick sexual fluid had soaked into his rectal tissues to become part of his body. That maybe my DNA-rich sperm were still twitching in the lining of his arse. I wondered if I would be able to taste myself in him. There was only one way to find out. I shuffled down the bed until my face was between his thighs. From this angle, I could see that the hairy pink sack storing his balls was half-flattened against the sheets. My tongue couldn't help but lick the soft, crinkled skin, following the seam of thickened flesh between his testicles back to the smooth, furred skin of his perineum. Neill practically jumped off the bed like he had been electrocuted. He thrashed and gasped in pleasure. I felt heat rush through me, my cock trembling and thickening, my breathing becoming erratic. "I love you," I panted. I kissed and then ran the flat of my tongue over each round, white globe of his arse. This was one of the many parts of Neill that I could never get enough of. Tiny golden hairs gleamed against the skin, running to a thicker seam between his buttocks. 




Seamus Ch. 08



With a laboured breath, Neill mumbled into his pillow, "I love you too, Seamus... Fuck, that feels good... Lick my arse... Yessss..." 

I gripped his arse with my fingers, peeling his cheeks apart so that my hot tongue could slip between. I traced the line of golden hair to the puckered inlet surrounding his hole, gently circling with my tongue-tip. His anus quivered at my contact, sending a corresponding rush of pleasure through my body. I hungrily watched it flash from greyish brown to the pink beneath. When he started to groan for more, I leant in and pressed my lips tightly against the delicate skin surrounding his tender spot. Gently, I slurped and sucked, flicking my tongue against the soft, elastic flesh. He suddenly pressed back, forcing my tongue into his musky, tight hole. It made my own cock leap to realise that the flavour of my semen had indeed mixed with his body. He was definitely still loose from the earlier fucking so my wet muscle slid in and out easily. As I slowly fucked his arse with my tongue I fondled his balls, which seemed to rapidly tighten in my fingers.

With a smile that he couldn't see, I climbed over his body and lay my chest against his back. My lips gently tugged on the skin beneath his ear. He gave a startled yelp and shook against me. A low whine escaped his lips as my fingertips dappled down his back and explored the cleft of his arse. I slowly pressed two fingers into his tight ring. 

Neill jumped again. "Shit... please..." he whimpered as I twisted those digits around, feeling the scorching, wet velvet of his rectum close around me. I thought he was looser than usual. I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with the head of my cock. 

With a sudden, frantic convulsion, Neill let out a rippling, pained scream. "No- God, stop! Stop!" His hands clawed over the sheets as he arched his back to push me out.

In shock, I pulled out and got off the bed immediately. "Oh, my god- I'm sorry!"

Neill rolled onto his back and stared at me, visibly shaking. When I glanced at his eyes, I thought I saw something strange, haunting. His fearful stare was quickly hidden as one of those invisible masks that protect the soul slipped into place. "It's okay," he whispered. "I'm okay, it's nothing."

The way he had screamed, it couldn't have been nothing. Nobody screams like their guts are being ripped out over nothing. I won't ever forget that horrible, blood-curdling sound. I won't ever forgive myself for letting him convince me it was over nothing. "I hurt you!" I gasped. Tears rushed to my eyes. "I'm so sorry. Oh god, I'm so sorry... I didn't think you would need lube- I'm so sorry!"

He rose unsteadily to his feet and pulled me into his arms. His cock was not as hard as it had been. "Don't cry! I just got a fright. It's okay. You didn't really hurt me." 

Neill walked me back to the bed. "I'm fine, you didn't hurt me," he kept saying. I felt his fingers brush my face, then slip down my chest. My cock jerked a little when his thumb slid over the hot, weeping fissure of my piss-slit. "I really want you to make love to me," he whispered as he nuzzled my ear.

I was worried. "Are you sure you're alright?"

He lay back, tugging on his shaft until it regained its previous tumescence. My eyes flickered from the long shaft with its large, bulbous head, over his writhing body, to the grin on his face. "I'm fine. Come and join me. I want you to fuck me silly!" Against my better judgement, I did just that. 

This time I made sure I was gentle. I went and got the tube of KY I made Neill use on me, believing that the massage oil probably wouldn't be slippery or soothing enough. My first finger penetrated the clasping bands of his anus slowly. I inched it into the velvet tightness of his rectum. The entire time, my eyes intently watched his face. He didn't flinch. There seemed to be no pain. I twisted that finger carefully, flicking the soft pad of my fingertip over every surface, expecting perhaps to find something torn and bleeding. I found nothing like that. I pressed in further, gently massaging the ridge of his prostate. Neill gave a low whine and told me to hurry up and fuck him. I didn't. 

I repeated the process with two, then three fingers. Thrusting slowly in and around, flexing my fingers, stroking those hot, wet walls at a frustratingly slow pace. It got to the point that he was so sensitive to my touch, I only had to move a finger a millimetre to generate a moan from his throat.

I nestled my head between his thighs. My lips plucked a row of kisses from his balls to the reddened head of his cock. That aroused, vascular skin quivered at the touch of my mouth, leaking a steady stream of salty pleasure against my tongue. Neill's gentle fingers combed through my hair, guiding me but not pressuring me with his usual urgency to get off. Knowing how tight his balls were in my palm, I was careful not to let him trip, purposely stopping and kissing his thigh or licking the precum that I had missed from his abdomen as often as I thought necessary. 

He was shaking, begging me to let him cum or at least fuck him, but I managed to keep up the teasing and fingering for twenty minutes or so. By that stage, the head of his cock was glowing a bright red colour that flushed along the network of veins in his shaft. There was a large ridge travelling up the underside of his cock. His cockhead was a swollen bulb, his shaft thick and turgid and half an inch longer than usual. 

We lay against each other, chest to chest, cock to cock, kissing and whispering how much we loved each other until we were both shaking with need. Neill gently rubbed the cool gel of the lubricant into my burning member. I'm sure I heard a hiss as hot met cold. He rolled his hips upward, exposing his thoroughly loved, glistening hole to the shining purple head of my cock. I inched into his sweltering, sucking depths slowly. We both moaned in contentment when my balls brushed against the crease of his arse. He was smiling as his lips murmured 'I love you' into my mouth. His thighs gripped the alcove above my hips to draw me deeper. This was different to what we had done before, more gentle and sensual. I moved slowly, stroking his insides with the whole length of my cock. We didn't build as fast and experienced all those strange, tingling electrical sensations as if in slow motion. My name was on his lips as his cock burst all over my chest, just as his was on mine when I spurted inside him. It was minutes before we stopped convulsing. I stayed in him until my cock went limp and his muscles pushed me out, followed by a stream of my semen. I cleaned his body with my mouth, wiped my dick on a tissue, then lay back against him as we drifted into sleep. I thought everything was going to be alright.

*

The next morning we had breakfast in the floor kitchen with Harry and a few others. Nathan had suddenly lost popularity. Even gentle Harry remarked about what a wanker he had been. It was obvious that nobody really believed a word he had said; his drunken outbursts were far from new. I was glad to see Neill looking relaxed and happy. I couldn't believe I had hurt him the night before and when I apologised again in our room, he got cranky and told me he was late for work. It wasn't like he was lying about being late, but it still felt like he was avoiding something. I was late for a lecture. I hated parting company when we had just fought, so I made the effort of a kiss and a smile, promising that I would see him at around eight that night (Neill worked until five, while I had rugby practise at five-thirty. He wouldn't be home before I left).

I wasn't surprised when Nate didn't show up for our ECON232 lecture, or the COMM221 lecture that followed it. Though he seldom attended either lecture, I guessed that he was probably too hung-over to bother. It was no skin off my nose; he could go fuck himself for all I cared. 

I got back to the room by midday and set about tidying up the place. It was a mess. The clothing Neill and I had discarded the night before was scattered around the carpet in little puddles of fabric. I picked up his jeans and shirt and gave them a sniff. They didn't smell too bad, so I folded them and left them on his desk so that he could decide whether to launder them or not. 

My green polo-shirt from the night before had a few spots of blood from the lip that Nathan had split. It went straight in the laundry hamper, joined with Neill's oil and cum-stained sheets. There were about three or four different sets of sheets in that basket, so I decided we'd better start washing them before we ran out. I didn't think anybody would wonder why we went through so many sheets, but in case they did, I only took two sets and the rest of the dirty clothing up to the laundry. Once I had set two machines going (not only was there a lot to wash, but I had to separate darks and lights too), I returned to the room.

The scent of sex and sweat hung heavily in the thick, warm air. The hall staff hadn't turned the heating on; the warmth was probably just the build up of body heat and carbon dioxide, kind of like the greenhouse effect. Hoping to alleviate some of the odour, I found a coat hanger so that I could jump up on my bed and unlatch the high windows. Then I hauled the fan out of the wardrobe and set that blowing the chilly autumn breeze about the room. As a finishing touch, I flitted some air-freshener around. I didn't actually mind the aroma of our lust, but I doubted anybody else who dropped in would be as enthusiastic. Plus there'd be some of those uncomfortable questions to answer.

I tossed the KY back in my top drawer and Neill's oil back in his. My eyes lingered on the family photograph beside his bed. It looked to be about ten years old. Neill had shorter hair, a bowl-cut actually; I was always giving him shit about that. Standing behind him was his father, a tall, blonde man with an aggressive looking jaw. He was anaemically pale, as if he never went out in the sun. Maybe I was influenced by what Neill had told me about him, but to me Mr. Simmons looked like one of those Aryan, Nazi guys. Beside Mr. Simmons stood the willowy, ebony haired, Mrs. Simmons. She had a 'my-shit-don't-stink' look on her face. Only Neill and his pretty older sister were smiling. 

I could hardly imagine what it would be like to grow up in a family like that. On one irrational level I was jealous. Neill's family was rich. He actually had a mother and a sister. My Mum was dead, and there was no chance of Dad having more kids with anyone else. On the more reality-grounded level, I knew that Neill's childhood had not exactly been wonderful. His parents hardly ever spoke to him. His father wouldn't pay for any of his education because he wasn't following in the 'family profession' of law/accounting/auditing/whatever it was (Neill was always vague). Whatever Neill did was never, ever good enough, even though he had an A+ average over his zoology papers. At least my father treated me like a human being.

Just as I started to make Neill's bed, a knock came at the door. "Come in!" I called out. The door was unlocked, so I didn't bother to turn around. 

The handle slowly turned and I heard somebody shuffle uneasily inside. "Seam-" he said in a groggy voice. "I- I- really fucked up last night-"

"No shit," I snapped angrily. I flung the folded flannelette topsheet I had been handling down on Neill's bed. I turned to see Nathan standing in the doorway. Though he had changed his clothing to a black adidas hoodie and faded jeans, he looked disgustingly unkempt. The bad-boy-five-o'clock-shadow-look had turned into the-crazed-drunk- who-hasn't-bothered- to-shave-in-days-look. His black hair stuck out in greasy tufts from his skull. Grey pockets supported his dark eyes. The sad, bewildered expression on his face made me want to punch him until his bones turned to mush. How dare he feel unhappy, after what he did to me? "Get the fuck out, Nate! I don't want to talk to you!"

Nate clenched the muscles of his face like it hurt to hear loud noises. "No, please- Come on, Seam- I'm really sorry-" 

I picked up the closest, heaviest thing I could find – a dust-covered novel that I'd hassled Neill about buying – and threw it. I mentally thanked Diana Gabaldon for writing such a thick book as 'A Breath of Snow and Ashes' struck Nate in the chest and thundered to the ground. My eyes flashed with anger. "Fuck off! Get it into your thick skull that I don't ever want to talk to you again!"

"Please don't be like this- I'm sorry, Seam! I'm so sorry-"

"You're sorry?" I snarled. "You're sorry? Well, I'm glad you're fucking sorry, but it's not like making an apology is gonna fix anything is it? I can't believe this! I trusted you with a big secret and not only did you turn it into some sort of bigoted insult, but in the same fucking breath you accused me of trying to steal your girlfriend! How could you think that about me? How could you do that to me? After all the times that I kept YOUR secrets, even lied for you, and I tell you something in confidence and you turn around and tell everyone! 

"When we were twelve, you made a sparkler bomb and blew a hole in your parents' fence – I told them I saw the kids next door do it! When we fourteen and you lost your virginity to your barely legal cousin, I told no-one, even though that's fucking incest and statutory rape! When we sixteen and you kept landing yourself in hospital to get your stomach pumped, I told everybody at school that you had bad asthma! Yeah, you got stick for it, but it was better than everyone knowing what a disgrace you really were! When we seventeen and your girlfriend noticed those scars on your thighs and arms, I told her it was from running through a sliding glass door as a child! When you were eighteen and you got drunk and mixed up reverse with first gear and drove your Dad's car into the wall of the parking garage, I made sure he thought someone had backed into it! I did all those fucking things because you were my friend! Why couldn't you keep one little secret for me?"

"Seam, please-" Nathan whimpered. "I wasn't thinking- I was drunk-"

"Well, why the fuck were you drunk? You know you can't handle more than four beers at a time!" I was too angry to watch his face. That primal urge to strike and punch and kick and bite until he either collapsed in a pile of shattered bones or left me alone over-rode my brain. I rushed forward and slammed him against the door, hearing a heavy clonk as his head rocked back into the wood. "Fuck you, Nate! I don't want to talk to you! Just get the fuck out before I fucking hurt you!"

Before he could talk, I yanked him forward by his right forearm, causing a yelp of pain. I turned him and wrenched that fleece-covered wrist behind his back, before ramming his body into the door again. I was further angered when I breathed in a nauseating mixture of smoke, vomit and stale beer from the air fouled by his person. "Get out!"

Suddenly, I felt resistance. Nate's body visibly stiffened beneath the snug fabric of his clothing. His left elbow jagged fiercely into my abdomen. "Don't you fucking touch me like that, you fucking poof!" He turned and shoved me backwards. A hellish glare spread over his red, shining face. "You know what your fucking problem is, Seam? You think you're so fucking perfect!"

I leapt forth again as furor boiled in my veins and clouded my vision. "So what's your fucking problem, Nathan? You jealous of me?"

He was crying as he pushed me away. "Yeah, that's it!" he sneered. "I'm jealous of you! I'm jealous of your smart-arse friends! I'm jealous of your fucking marks! I'm jealous of how the girls always talk to you first! I'm jealous of the way that you score more tries than me on the field! I'm jealous of your god-damned body! I'm jealous of your arse-grinding boyfriend! I'm jealous that you ARE perfect! Everything comes so fucking easily to you! You never do anything wrong! You never make a fucking mistake! You think you're better than me! You think I'm not good enough to hang around with you! You have ignored me the whole fucking year, you know that? You're such a fucking arsehole, Seamus!"

I was too angry to take it all in. "I don't fucking ignore you! I spend most of my day with you when you bother to turn up to our lectures! Almost every day we eat lunch together! How dare you accuse me of ignoring you? And how dare you be jealous of me?" I asked, incensed. 

"My life has been far from easy! Everything that I am has come from hard work! I struggled through school and the only reason my marks are okay now is because I sit down and read everything twice over after lectures! I run nearly every day just to keep in shape and keep my head free of clutter! I pay my own way - I don't rely on student loans or my father's money. Everything I earn goes into my education and my hall fees! I've been working at various jobs since I was thirteen! You don't even have a fucking job! If you'd just pull your life together and actually apply yourself, you'd be passing your fucking papers! If you bothered to turn up sober to practice, you might play rugby a bit better!" 

I ignored the strange hiccupping noise that came from Nate when I stopped to catch my breath. Instead, I continued, "How dare you be jealous of me! You're the one with the father and the mother and the brothers and sisters, the uncles and aunts. You have grandparents that live locally and you can visit them whenever you want! I've only got my Dad, and I haven't even seen him in two fucking years! Your family can actually afford to fly you back home for the holidays or fly themselves down to see you, mine can't! Until you fucking betrayed my trust, you were like a fucking brother to me, you know that? How dare you say you're jealous! You've got a fucking warped sense of reality! You are the one with better looks than me, you are the one who always ended up with dates at high school, you know that! Fucking hell, Nate! What's your fucking problem?" 

I didn't care that there were tears streaming in great rivers down Nate's face, carving his features into a tragic mask. His skin was flushed red, a colour echoed in the whites of his eyes and I didn't care at all. Nate screamed, "I hate you! That's my fucking problem! You've got your head so far up your arse that only shit will come out your mouth! I don't know why I even bothered to talk to you! You only think about yourself! I don't care what you say, you're a selfish prick! I hate you! I HATE YOU!" 

"Well, I HATE you too!" I screamed at my former friend. "Go to hell!"

Nate launched himself on me, slamming me into the floor with the full force of his heavily muscled body. His hands madly scratched over my clothing as he tried to keep me underneath him. I felt his hot breath hit my face and breathed in the sickening scent of stale alcohol and vomit. He was still crying as he stuttered out, "You don't mean that- You don't mean it, Seam- I didn't mean it! Please, god- I'm so sorry- I'm sorry- I fuck things up! I always fuck things up! You don't need to say it- I'm not good enough! Not good enough- for- for Jill- not good enough for you! You don't hate me! Please say you don't hate me!"

Something in his frantic behaviour finally knocked some sense into me. Perhaps it was the way he was jolting me by my shoulders so that my head kept dropping against the carpet. I stared into his deep brown eyes. If it wasn't for a thin band of coffee separating the two, his irises would have blended almost seamlessly with his pupils. I used to call them vampire eyes when we were kids. Now those vampire eyes were drowning my face with a hot monsoon of tears. "I don't hate you!" I gasped. "Okay? I don't hate you! You're right though, I don't understand you! Why did you do that to me? Why would you start shouting at me and accusing me of all that crazy stuff? I was only trying to help you sober up last night."




Seamus Ch. 08



I thought for a brief moment that Nathan was going to kiss me again, but instead he jerked his head back from mine. He kept blinking his eyes, as if he was trying to make the tears or his hangover-induced headache go away. "I- I don't know- Nothing makes sense anymore. I'm all over the place. Fuck, my head hurts. I feel sick..." He rolled off me and slowly got up. "I'm sorry, Seam. I'm so, so sorry about everything..." 

As I climbed to my feet, he stepped toward the door. His hand was on the doorknob by the time I spoke. "Nate, are you okay? You're really scaring me."

Nate just shook his head. "All I wanted to do was say that I'm sorry! I just keep- I get angry and I can't control myself. I can't do anything right anymore. I thought that if I finally- you know, went for Jill- everything would work out, but it hasn't. It's alright though. I'm alright. Really, Seam- I'm fine. I'm sorry for what I did. Anyone that I see, I'll tell them I was so, so drunk I- I didn't even know what I was saying."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "You're not making a lot of sense, Nate."

"Blame that on the beer. I'm still full as a boot," he replied, gruffly. "I just need to go and sleep it off, yeah? I'm just so sorry about everything I've done, Seam. Really, really sorry. I know that you can't trust me anymore. I'm sorry about that, but I'm glad that you've always been so good to me. Even now, after everything I've done, you're still good..." His voice seemed to become strangled within his throat, so that his last sentence had to be forced out between his teeth. "...I love you, Seam." With that he was gone.

It took a second to realise what he had just said. I hurried into the hallway after him. "Nathan! You can't just run away after saying something like that, man! Come back."

He stopped in his tracks and turned. There was a half-smile trying to form on his lips, despite the sad eyes which hid beneath his sooty lashes. "Fuck, Seam- I don't even know what I'm saying anymore! I feel like hell! I meant as a friend, okay? I love you like one of my brothers. I'm so sorry about what I did to you. I was so angry that I forgot all that stuff you've done for me. You've always been there and I'm sorry that I couldn't step up and return the favour. Thank you, by the way, for everything you've done." His dark eyes pleaded with me. "I just need to sleep now. I'll see you later... I know Coach Prentice will kill me, but I don't think I'll get to rugby practise tonight. I know I shouldn't ask you for any favours after what I've done, but-"

"You want me to put in a good word for you?" I asked.

"No lies, no real excuses, just tell him I'm sick. Half the team was there last night, so I'm sure the truth will out," Nate said. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers while he yawned. "Look, I gotta get some sleep."

"Do you want me to walk you to your room?" 

He just shook his head and smiled a half-smile. "Look after yourself, Seam."

*

When I allowed Neill to drive my car to work, I forgot that I would need a ride to rugby practice. Apart from Liam and Nathan, none of my other team members lived anywhere near my hall of residence. There was no way in hell I'd ask the former to give me a lift and it felt wrong to ask someone to come out of their way to pick me up. Jill may have taken me on the twenty minute drive across town but she wasn't in her room. I had to call a taxi. I arrived at practice late, grumpy and out-of-pocket. 

The sky was that hazy blue colour you see when the sun is trying to go down but it hasn't quite got there yet. The field was lit up by lights. I sprinted toward the stadium, knowing I was late and Coach would skin me alive if I didn't hurry up. Since it was programmed into security that the facilities were used for practise at this hour, I wasn't required to swipe my card for entrance. I walked into the changing rooms and dumped my bag on a bench. Within a couple of minutes, I had all my gear on and followed some of the other slow guys out onto the field. 

Coach John Prentice was a tall, solidly built man with arms and legs like tree trunks. You couldn't help but notice the power of his form pressing through his tracksuits and jackets. Fabric could not hide his barrel-chest, the great slabs of muscle for pectorals and slightly pot stomach, nor could it hide those chunky arms and legs. He was excessively fit and took great pride in pushing his team to the extremes that he was entirely capable of enduring. Lack of fitness was a weakness; not only could it get you injured, but it could result in you losing the game (which could also get you injured, or at least yelled at until your ears bled). He was known for getting results and he damn well did. If you couldn't hack his training either physically or emotionally he would make your life hell until you toughened up. If you didn't, he was perfectly capable of crushing your career altogether. I'm sure there wasn't anybody on that team who was not afraid of him. 

"You're late, Fraser!" Prentice barked at me as I joined the rest of the team on the field. We were all dressed in our practise uniforms. For games, we wore a synthetic, breathable fabric. For practise, we wore heavy cotton rugby jerseys which were warmer in the cold autumn air but tended to get hot, sticky and sweaty. On our legs were thick, knee-high woollen socks over shin guards. 

"Sorry Coach, Team." I glanced around. Liam's short, yet over-bulked physique was dressed in a university tracksuit; he wasn't going to be practising. Well, I suppose that was a plus. Still, I dreaded having to apologise to him. As he moved toward us from the grandstand, it seemed to me that he was purposely shuffling and limping. Bastard. I knew for a fact that he could move a hell of a lot easier than that, having seen it when he tried to molest me a couple of nights earlier.

"Hennessey not with you, Fraser? Where the fuck is he?" Coach asked.

Some of the guys who had been at the party offered me sympathetic looks. Evidently, nobody had had the courage to report Nathan's behaviour to Coach as they were supposed to. He liked to keep up with our behaviour off the field, to ensure there were no problems that could affect our performance or scandals that would prove embarrassing to the university. He relied on team-mates dobbing each other in during his fortnightly meetings with each player. As it was, Nate was on a bit of a tight leash about his drinking habits after turning up to practise hung-over a few too many times. "He's not feeling very well," I explained. 

"Party last night?" Prentice barked out.

"Yes," was my meek reply.

Coach turned to the rest of the team. I knew what he was going to do; it was sort of like show and tell. "Who was there?"

Ten of the twenty guys present (there were five subs, fifteen players), nodded. "Did Hennessey embarrass himself?" Coach asked. "I take it he's still under the influence?" There came a murmur of agreement amongst those present, though nobody was going to speak up.

Prentice's anger flared. "What did I say about parties? Go along, but don't drink up! I take it the rest of you got boozed as well? Now listen to me, we've got some important games coming up and we're damn well gonna win the Cup this year, right? Well, we can't do that if certain individuals on this team don't start pulling their weight! I'm sick of you wankers being late to practice, hung-over, smoking – yes, I know about your habits, Fillipo and Dubois. I'm sick and tired of others of you not putting the effort in to work-outs! I'm fucking sick of the scrapping and fighting!" His glare was directed at me. "I don't know what half of you are doing here if you are not going to commit yourselves to the team! Believe you me, I'll be having strong words with Mr. Hennessey when I see him! The rest of you need to learn your fucking lesson. For a start, alcohol and cigarettes fuck your system up! I'm not asking you to be completely sober, but I am asking you to think carefully about how much you're drinking and how often you're doing it! Now I believe Fraser as something to say, an apology. Am I correct?"

I nodded. My throat was suddenly dry. I realised that I had to get the apology over with, but I had no idea what I was going to say. Of course, I had thought about and even memorised my little speech, but for the life of me I couldn't remember it. "Yes, Coach," I began. Liam sniggered; I flashed him a livid look. "I'm really sorry to Liam and the rest of you guys for getting carried away with my rage. I'm sorry that I injured him," I couldn't bring myself to say Liam's name for a second time. "Not only did that hurt him, but I've probably hurt our team's performance, since now our best left winger is unable to play." I shot Coach Prentice an 'is that enough?' look. 

"Right! Now don't let me hear that any of you other wankers have followed Fraser and Liam's examples." Prentice slapped his large, hairy hands together. "Let's get this show on the road." The practise continued normally. At the end, when the other guys hit the showers, Coach Prentice pulled me aside. His watery blue eyes held mine just as firmly as his paw gripped my elbow. "Come through to my office, we have to talk."

We walked into the large, modern building that encompassed the changing rooms, grandstand, gym facilities and the various offices of different university professionals. Prentice lead me down the white-washed concrete hallway and into the bowels of the building. He hurriedly unlocked a maroon painted door, then pushed his way inside. I stared around the familiar room. There were various photographs and newspaper clippings mounted upon the walls which signified the great pride Coach Prentice took in the teams he had coached over the years. Though Prentice was not a vain man, three of the photographs were from his own international rugby career in the 1980s. Carefully arranged and displayed next to these were several framed diplomas, certifying Prentice's training in physical education and sports psychology. As his 'day job', Prentice lectured in these subjects.

"Sit down." Prentice motioned to a chair in front of his desk as he took the one opposite. I watched him warily. "We haven't had a catch up session for a few weeks, have we, Fraser?"

"No, can't say we have." I wished he would use my first name. Liam was addressed in that way. This wasn't preferential treatment; Prentice just found it easier to yell out 'Liam!' than Liam's surname, 'Llewellyn!' 

"Don't be so sullen," Coach snapped. "Anyway, we're not really here to talk about you. I take it you've learnt your lesson?"

'We're not really here to talk about you,' flashed through my mind. "It won't happen again, Coach."

Prentice watched me carefully. He had a very square, weathered face with closely-cropped blonde hair that was slowly retreating from his temples. His ears were the typical 'cauliflower' type that you usually see in someone who has spent their rugby days in the front row of the scrum. "Did you go to the physio department, like I asked?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I saw Bryan Rhys. He's got me onto some new stretches and strengthening exercises."

"You were moving a bit slowly today. I take it you're still sore?"

"I'll be alright. Rhys says I need to keep moving but not to push too hard. I'm going to get back into my daily running but I have to watch the weights I lift," I said.

Prentice nodded. "That's good to hear. Now I wanted to ask you about Hennessey. During practise, I heard the other guys say that he has taken up with your girlfriend. I also heard that you had a bit of an altercation with him over the girl last night. Now listen to me and listen to me good, because I am only going to say this once. I don't want somebody who is going to fight with everybody else on my team, got it? If I hear of a repeat performance of what happened with Liam happening with Hennessey, you'll be off this team so damned fast your feet won't hit the ground. Listen to me, Fraser. You have always seemed to be cool and calm, reserved even. I know that Liam is a shit-stirring little bastard. I know that Hennessey drinks like a fucking fish. You've just got to stay out of their way. So tell me, this girlfriend thing, it's not going to be a problem, is it? You and Hennessey have always been tight before this; I'd hate to see some girl get in the way of your friendship."

I chose my words cautiously. "I haven't got a problem with him and my ex. We talked this morning and everything's fine." 

"Good," Prentice said. "Because I'm worried about Nathan Hennessey. In the past few months he's behaved like a complete, fucking idiot. When he turns up to practise he is often hung-over. Sometimes he has cuts or bruises like he's been in a fight. I've attempted to talk to him about it, but he won't listen."

"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked. "I've told him heaps of times to watch his drinking but he won't listen to me either."

"Well, there's not a lot you can do. I was just wondering whether you knew if he was in any sort of counselling."

I smirked. "Counselling? No, I shouldn't think so." The truth was Nate had been in counselling while we were in high school but he'd sworn me to secrecy over the whole thing. Even though I was still mad at him, I wasn't about to tell Coach Prentice about his past. There were secrets I would never tell, even if Nate told mine. 

Prentice banged one of those giant fists on his desk, causing the photographs that sat beside his name plate to topple over. I saw a flash of a middle-aged red haired woman and four teenaged boys before he straightened the picture up again so I couldn't see it. "Don't fucking laugh! It's not a laughing matter! If Hennessey is an alcoholic, he needs to get some sort of help!"

"He's not an alcoholic," I snapped. "He just doesn't hold his liquor well. He only drinks at parties, not everyday."

Coach made a frustrated clicking sound in the back of his throat. "It doesn't matter when he drinks, if he's drinking too much on a regular basis, he's an alcoholic. When I catch up with Hennessey, I'm going to recommend he visit Student Health and Counselling. I think that you should be prepared to help him out if worst comes to worst. So no fucking fights over girlfriends, okay?" 

Suddenly, I felt like I was the bad guy in all this, once again. Prentice had this way of making it seem like everything was my fault. "Of course not, Coach. I told you, me and Nathan are fine over that."

"Good, now get out of my sight."

I stomped my way back to the now empty changing rooms. My bag was sitting by itself on one of the benches. By now the sweat I had worked up during practice had become cold and sticky. A musky odour clung with my cotton rugby jersey to my chest. Quickly, I stripped everything off and grabbed my towel. Just as I was heading for the showers, I heard footsteps behind the row of green lockers that shielded the inside of the changing room from the door. 

"Still here, faggot?" Liam asked me. His brown eyes gleamed maliciously over a set of bruised and over-prominent cheekbones. A thick white plaster covered the bridge of his bruise-rimmed nose. His small mouth was chapped and scabby. 

"Go away," I said, in a tired voice. I saw the way he was looking at me and instinctively tightened my grip on the towel that covered my hips. "I haven't got time for this."

"What's the matter? In a hurry to get home and fuck your girly boyfriend's arse?" he sneered.

I refused to let him get to me. "Which part of 'go away' did you fail to understand?"

Liam just laughed. He easily sauntered into the room and sat on the bench, right in front of me. I backed up. "So I hear your mate Nathan isn't talking to you now he knows you're a fag. In fact, he got so angry he was gonna kick your pillowbiting arse."

"He was drunk. Nobody believes a word he said. Nobody's going to believe anything you say either. So why don't you do us both a favour and bugger off before I kick your arse, Liam?" I snatched for the bag sitting on the bench beside him, convinced that I could grab my stuff and get changed in one of the toilet cubicles. He knocked my hands back. In one quick move, he was sitting on my bag. "Get the fuck off my bag!" I shouted, suddenly irritated.

Liam gave me a cruel smile. "Oh, I bet you'd like me to bugger, wouldn't you, fag? Too bad that's not happening anytime soon." He laughed again, a short 'ha!' as if he was grunting as he exhaled. His words confused me, because I had him picked as- well, certainly not straight- after that attempted handjob he had given me when I was out of it in the toilets. "The thing is, you might think that no-one believes Hennessey. Just you wait. Give them a couple of days and not only will they be watching you like hawks, but they'll start remembering all those times they've seen you touching him. Little Harry in the room next to yours is going to start wondering about all those funny bumps coming from your room during the night. Jillian down the hallway is going to think how strange it was that you liked her touching your arsehole- yes, I know about that too. I heard her ask one of her girlfriends about it.

"Everyone will know. I wonder how the guys are gonna feel, knowing that you've been standing in the showers beside them, lusting over them as they soaped themselves up. I'm sure they're gonna be furious. Nobody'll want you around. They won't want your face between their arses in the scrum. They won't want you tackling them and pulling them to the ground during practise. 'Cos they'll know that every time you do that, you'll be thinking about fucking one of them, won't you?"

"I will not!" I snapped back. "Fucking hell, I haven't thought about anyone on this team like that! Shit, I would never live it down if I got hard during a changing session! And I haven't, 'cos I'm not a dirty, disgusting pervert like you! Only guy I'm attracted to is Neill!"

Liam just shook his head and grinned at me. "It doesn't work like that, fag. You either like boys, or you don't. Everyone knows that. Fuck, they are gonna be so furious with you. That beating I gave you will be nothing compared to what will happen to your queer arse when they find out."

"Shut up!" I grabbed for the edge of my bag, not caring that he was sitting on it. I pulled at its handle and dragged him along the bench with it. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"You know what? There might be some truth in what you said before. I bet you're the kind of guy that'll fuck anything with a hole in it. Girls, guys, animals, your own hand. I bet you only fuck his arse, 'cos you're straight like that. You probably don't even suck his cock, right? He only sucks yours. He's got one of those pretty mouths, hasn't he?"

"Fuck you!" I shouted. My fist came out and struck Liam square in the cheek, glancing off his hard cheekbone. It was enough force to make him jump to one side, leaving my bag free to be pulled away. "Will you just fuck off and leave me alone!"

"You're just a filthy faggot, you know that? You can't give orders to me," Liam growled. "I should beat your sorry arse for what you just did!"

At that moment, another voice joined us. "Fraser, Liam, stop it!" My heart skipped a beat as I saw Coach Prentice come out from behind the lockers. His wide, square face was crimson red. He looked positively ropeable. "Liam, I don't know what the fuck you're still doing here but rest assured you can get your sorry arse out of my sight right now! I won't have a little shit like you fucking around with my team! Now get out!"

If I wasn't so scared I would have smiled as Liam scampered from the room. Coach turned his attention to me. "Sit down!"

I did as I was told, perching uneasily on the slatted bench with my bag next to me and my hands in my lap. I don't think I was breathing. I couldn't meet Coach Prentice's eyes. 




Seamus Ch. 08



He sat on the bench opposite me. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then I heard his gruff voice ask, "Are you gay?"

"Yes," I whispered. There was no time to talk about not liking that label, about the difficulty of classifying someone when they fitted into so many boxes. The only guy I ever had real sexual and emotional attraction to was Neill. Aside from that, I still like women. It doesn't make sense to me, let alone anyone else.

"Is that what all this fighting has been about? Liam and Hennessey having a go at you?" He must have been standing there since the beginning of the argument. I hadn't heard his footsteps. He must have been very quiet. I wondered why he didn't step in earlier.

"Just Liam. Nate's fine with me, he was just drunk and confused when he had a go at me."

"Look at me." I looked, though I really didn't want to. What I saw was a surprise. Those rough features had a compassionate expression. Prentice was looking at the huge bruises on my chest when he said, "Did Liam kick you, stomp on you? Why did you let everyone believe that you had started the fight? Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't think there was much point," I replied, in a dull voice.

"Because he might tell the rest of the team that you are gay?" 

I watched his watery blue eyes and reddened face uneasily. "I don't know. Everyone thought that it was my fault."

"The rest of the team are a lot nicer than that little shit," Coach said. "If he leaks this about you, I'll put in my bob's worth as well."

"I don't want anyone to know yet." I couldn't believe that this was happening. Not only did Coach seem to be taking my side when I had him figured as a bigot, but he was calling Liam a 'little shit'. Liam, who got away with everything, was a 'little shit'.

"I can't have Liam getting away with something of this magnitude. He'll have to go before the Disciplinary Committee. Fraser, you're gonna need to give a confidential statement against him."

I just knew Liam would find a way to get back at me for this, but I didn't say that. "Alright," I agreed.

"I look after my players," Prentice told me. "I can't have them beating each other up-"

"So if Liam tells the rest of the team and they don't want me around, I'm off the team as well?" I asked, bitterly.

Coach frowned slightly. "I don't think it'll come to that. But unfortunately, that's the way the cookie will crumble if it happens. I do think that you underestimate your team-mates. They are nice people, a bit rough around the edges, but they'll come round. Besides, I'm sure you're not the only po- gay person on the team."

"Right." I don't know if I believed him or not.

"I heard that you arrived in a taxi. Get yourself cleaned up and I'll give you a ride home." I protested, but Coach Prentice insisted. The drive back to the Hall was surreal. I had expected a completely different reaction to the one which I got. He chatted like a normal person, told me about his wife and kids. Even told me that his son was gay. Now I knew why he understood. His parting words to me were, "You've chosen a hard road to walk, Fraser. A hard road, but not an impossible one. You're a versatile, atheletic player that can cover any position from the second row back. You're a nice guy. The team'll come round to your side as long as they don't have Liam pouring poison in their ears. If you choose to make a complaint to Disciplinary, he will be off the team. It doesn't matter what sort of player he is, the university does not take kindly to bigots."

*

Neill was seated at his desk, flicking slowly through the pages of a large textbook. One of his hands laced through his hair, almost pulling a handful out by the roots. My eyes flashed to his face. The tanned skin of his cheeks was shiny with the residue of tears. His blue eyes were shot and rimmed with red. I saw his lower lip tremble slightly as he watched me. "Did you get my message?" he asked, quietly.

"No," I said. "I haven't had a chance to look at my phone-" Neill made a strange sniffing sound, like he was trying to keep the tears inside their ducts. "My god, what's happened?"

"You'd better sit down." He took my wind-chilled hand between his warm ones and led me to my bed. 

I stared at him, frantically trying to figure out what was going on. "Neill, what's happened?"

"Just- Just sit down," he replied. He slowly sat on my bed. I followed his lead, staring into those worried blue eyes. I saw that his forehead was creased with anxiety. His golden hair hung a little haphazardly around his face, as it always did when he had been running his hands roughly through it while upset. 

"Tell me what's going on!" I exclaimed.

Neill shook his head slowly as if he was trying to come up with a good way to say bad news. He pulled my hand into his lap, lightly thumbing circles into the palm while his other hand supported it. I could now feel that his hands were wet with sweat. I waited while he took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my throat. "Nathan's in hospital," he finally said.

Relief rushed over me. Sure, Nate hadn't seemed hung-over enough to have alcohol poisoning, but at least he was alright. "What? Getting his stomach pumped? That's nothing new. He's used to it-"

"No." Neill trembled violently. "Seamus, just listen to me. He tried to slit his wrists."

I involuntarily inhaled a mouthful of air and gulped. My heart had skipped a beat. The news had made it to my brain but I couldn't really process it properly. "No- He wouldn't- It's not true-" I whispered.

"Look, he's- he's alright," Neill said. His blue, tear-rimmed eyes bored into my green ones. "Greg found him- called an ambulance."

"No- He wouldn't," I repeated. "Oh god no-" Suddenly a lump was forming in my throat. I remembered the conversation we had had earlier that day. How confused and sad Nate had been. I should have realised that Nate didn't normally cry like that! How could I have been so blind?

"I'm sorry," Neill whispered. "But it's true. He's alrigh- or at least as alright as he can be. They'll look after him-"

"Oh, god... He came and saw me- We argued and god, he told me-" The tears were strangling my voice. My facial muscles clenched up, trying to stop the inevitable fall from my pressured eyes. "He- He apologised and he- thanked me for being there for him- and he- he told me he loved me-" Realisation rushed through me as those painful tears started to fall. "He was saying- goodbye, wasn't he? And- And I didn't- see it- How could he- do that? How- How could he think- that I didn't- care- that- that- I didn't want him around? He told me to l-look after myself! Oh, god!"

"This isn't your fault-"

"Yes, it is!" I cried. "I- I missed- what he was- trying to say! I- could have stopped this-" I snatched my hand from his, dragging it through my hair and over my face. I tried to crush the tears that were attempting to rush out of my eyes, but I could not. Everything seemed so out-of-control. I remember thinking that it shouldn't, that it couldn't be happening. Nate was my friend. How had I missed that he was that miserable with himself? Guilt rushed over me. All the signs had been there – drinking, misery, confusion, telling me he wasn't good enough, telling me he loved me and to look after myself. And I missed them. What kind of friend was I?

"Seamus," Neill shook his head, slowly. "It's happened. You can't change it. You can't beat yourself up over this. All you can do is ensure that he's alright now."

Neill's words didn't sink in. "How come I didn't see it? He- He was so messed up- and unhappy- he hasn't been himself- for ages- Why did I miss this? He's right- I was ignoring him- wasn't I? I- I never saw- he was getting- s-sick again- Oh, god- this is all my fault! This is all my fault!" Neill pulled me into his arms, hooking his chin over my head as I sunk my face into warm, safe chest. I sobbed like my heart had been ripped out. Pain rippled through my chest. "I did- ignore him- I d-didn't see any of the signs- the drinking- how he- was saying he wasn't- good enough- Why didn't I see it? It's- It was so obvious- how he kept apologising- He lied- he said he was alright- and he wasn't- Why'd he lie like that? He- He told me- he loved me-" I descended into tears. I couldn't say anything else. The only noises that came from me were near screams of desperation and sadness. My oldest, best friend thought that the world, that everybody, his family, his friends, that I would be better off without him. How could he ever think that?

I could feel Neill's hands on my back and stroking through my hair. He was saying something but I couldn't listen to him. 

*

There comes a time when no matter how much you want to cry, there just aren't anymore tears left. Your throat feels thick and red raw. Your sinuses ache like they've been scraped out with a sharp instrument. Your eyes are painfully swollen. A dull pain travels from your throat down your neck and into your chest. You feel like you've been torn open and there's nothing left. At that time, even though the tears are gone and you're empty, a certain strength returns to your body. You feel ready to talk, ready to ask questions. I found myself in that position, my face pressed into Neill's chest. "Greg found him?" I asked. Poor Greg. I wondered how he was holding up.

"Thing is," Neill said, softly. I could feel his fingers swirling gently into my scalp. It was reassuring to know that he was still there, that he was still with me. I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't. "Nate had tried to bandage himself up. The cuts weren't deep. Maybe he wasn't really trying-"

"It was the inside of his wrists though, right?" I remembered when Nate used to cut himself. The cuts were always under 3 inches long and so shallow they healed in a week. The thin, silver scars would blend almost seamlessly with the rest of his skin. He only ever cut his thighs, the inside of his upper arm and seldom on the outside of his forearm. He never cut inside his forearm. At the time, I was sixteen or seventeen. I didn't understand why he felt the need to do something so self-destructive. Nate tried to explain it to me once. It wasn't about making himself feel pain or trying to kill himself. It was about blood. He said he got angry all the time and when he got angry it felt like there was so much energy running around his head that it just had to go somewhere or he'd explode. Cutting got rid of it. I never really understood that. I don't think he did either. He didn't know why he was angry. His family were wonderful; they always made me feel welcome, they were always so great to him. It never made sense. 

Neill swallowed. "Yes."

*

We went to the hospital and were greeted by the news that Nate's grandparents were with him. Jill and Greg sat in the waiting room. The only news they knew was that only family were allowed to see him. Eventually Nate's granddad came and gravely related that Nate was under sedation and that there really wasn't anything we could do for him by staying there. His parents were catching an early morning flight the following day.

*

A psych registrar had offered me a prescription for sleeping tablets, but I didn't take it. It just felt wrong to deaden my mind. Like I was betraying Nathan by blocking out my feelings of guilt and sadness; I know it doesn't make sense, but I was pretty irrational at the time. So instead I found myself wide awake sitting on my bed with Neill, our backs against the wall. I told him the only good news of a sorry, miserable day; Coach Prentice had taken my side against Liam.

I was too deflated to feel any of the warm feelings I had felt after my talk with Coach. Now all I felt was a gaping, agonising guilt, I suppose. I'm not really sure. All I know is, instead of smiling like I wanted to, tears started rolling down my face. I felt like I had no right to be happy.

Neill shuffled over on his bum until his warm side was against mine. His head leant on my shoulder and his hand interwove with mine. "It's not your fault," he whispered.

"Yes, it is," I sniffed. I bowed my head as the tears came hot and hard.

Neill stroked my hair. He stared up at me with eyes that were wide with concern. "Look, I- I don't want to be crude or upset you but you didn't cut his wrists. You didn't make the decision-"

I turned my eyes away. "I knew he wasn't himself- I knew that he didn't normally go round crying and saying he hated me- and he loved me- He kept going on about not being good enough- I should have-"

He cupped my jaw in his hand, forcing me to look at him. When he spoke, his voice was slow and careful. There was a slightly strangled quality to it, as though he was trying to control his own emotions. "You had no idea what he was going to do. It's not your fault, Seamus. There's no point in sitting around blaming yourself and second-guessing what happened. It's only going to make you upset-"

"But I should be upset!" I cried. I didn't want to see the empathy in Neill's eyes. I couldn't stand that he was trying to take the guilt away. It sounds confusing and a little crazy, but at the time, I thought that what had happened to Nate was all my fault. I failed to realise that everyone who was friends with Nate, including Neill, were feeling the same thing – Why didn't we see it? Why didn't we stop him? Neill at least had the sense to realise that I was overburdening myself with guilt. He also knew that it had happened and we just had to deal with it. There was no point trying to change the past.

"Yes, but not like this! It's not your fault this happened. You didn't know Nate was suicidal. You didn't know," he said, gently. "Nobody knew except Nate and he didn't tell us how bad it was."

"I should have-"

"You can say 'should have' all you want, but it is only gonna make you upset. It has happened, you can't change that, so why upset yourself about it? It's horrible, I know but- You can't beat yourself up over this. We're all in the same boat here; none of us saw it coming. We can't change what has happened. All we can do is keep going. We need to be strong enough to support Nate." Neill's voice faltered a little as he spoke. When I looked at his eyes again, I saw that a bead of tears form against his lower eyelashes and dribble down his cheek.

"Alright." I didn't believe him. I just didn't want to talk about it anymore.

He smiled slightly, though it wasn't really a smile, more a relieved expression. "Please don't blame yourself for what's happened to Nate. It isn't your fault."

Gently, I reached out to brush the tear away. Neill flinched a little, then relaxed as I stroked his cheek. "You're so strong and smart; you keep it together better than- well, me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

We sat together for a while longer, caressing each other's skin. It wasn't really sexual, it was more for reassurance and to comfort each other. The tears stopped and eventually, Neill yawned and asked if I was tired.

I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep that night, but I didn't tell him that. I didn't want him to think that he needed to stay awake with me. So I said that I was tired too.

"Do you want to sleep by yourself tonight?" Neill asked.

The idea actually filled me with dread. I couldn't stand to be away from him. His presence just brought a sort of calm to me and I needed him near me, even if he was sleeping. "No," I said. "I want to be with you- unless you want to be by yourself."

Neill shook his head. "No. I want you in my arms- if that's okay."

"Let's stop treading on eggshells, yeah?" Neill agreed. I quickly stripped myself down to my underwear as he did the same. He was going commando as usual and was about to pull a pair of his 'night-time boxers' out of his dresser when I told him not to. I pulled my boxers off so I was starkers as well. I wasn't thinking of sex, I just wanted to feel all of his warm body in the bed beside me. So that I knew that he was real.

I climbed into the welcoming bed and shuffled over to make room for Neill. "You're okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I leant back, feeling the warm hairy body behind me. Neill wrapped his arms around me. I felt every contour of his body press against my back. I felt safe in that embrace, feeling the ridge of each muscle of his abdomen, the silky hair running over his warm, soft skin, the nubs of his nipples against the back of my ribcage. Every part of his body fitted against mine. Even the hot bulge of his groin fitted perfectly to the base of my buttocks. My knees were slightly bent. Neill's knees hooked into the alcove behind my kneecaps. We fitted together so well. Every breath Neill took I felt against my back, not just the warm air when he breathed out, but the swelling and deflation of his chest as well.

His fingers brushed lightly over the smooth skin of my chest. "You alright with me being behind you?" Neill whispered.

It was a strange question. "Of course. Feels safe," I said. I found both of his hands and clasped them in mine, against my chest. "You comfortable?"

"Yeah." He made a small humming noise as his lips lightly brushed my neck. I felt the sinews of his chest tense and then relax. He took a couple of deep breaths. I almost thought he was about to pull away. Instead he exhaled warm air against my skin. His body relaxed some more. "It's nice." 

We lay there for what seemed like ages. I honestly thought that he had fallen asleep. Suddenly, his hand shifted from beneath mine and brushed my face. "You're crying again- God, Seamus, please let me do something."

"I'm alright," I sobbed.

"No, you're not," Neill replied. His warm fingertips brushed over the grazed skin on my cheekbone, feathering lower to trace my already stubbled jaw. He swept over the groove between my chin and lower lip, finally running the back of his hand across my neck and cupping my jaw again. He pressed his soft lips into my neck and gave me a couple of murmured, fluttery kisses. "Don't get angry at me for saying this, but you're not alright! Please- Is there anything I can do? Do you want to talk some more?"

"No, I don't want to talk. I'm done with talking," I snapped.

"You can't just lie there crying, Seamus. I can't let you go to sleep in tears."

He cared. He really did care about me. His words were enough for me to lose it again. I started to sob uncontrollably. "Why? Why would Nate do that? Fucking hell..."

That was a question that Neill didn't have an answer to. He did what he could, pulling me closer and whispering over and over, "It's alright- It's okay- Nate's alright-" He rocked me in his arms, kissing the nape of my neck and my hair. It was one of those roaring sessions of tears that hurt like hell but burn out in a few minutes. Soon I relaxed back into him, but somehow his body felt different. For a second I felt Neill's hard cock brush against my arse, then he pulled his hips away, not wanting to disturb me. I pressed back insistently.

The knowledge that he needed me just as much as I needed him flooded my brain. I wanted... I needed Neill everywhere. With all the bad things that had happened, he was the one who had pulled me through, yet there was this sudden, absurd fear in my mind that I'd wake up and he wouldn't be there.

"Please," I rasped, my throat raw from crying. "I want to feel you- so I know you're there-" I thrust my hips a little, feeling his engorged organ shiver against my skin. The sensation was enough to make me tremble. Warmth rushed over my skin and a slippery heat started to build in my loins. 

"I- I- I don't wanna upset you," Neill gasped. 

"It's alright," I breathed. I reached behind myself blindly and grasped his erection. The response was electric. Neill jolted against me and moaned in pleasure. "This sounds so selfish, but I- I need you- I need to feel you with me- in me- just so close-" My throat was strangled by a large lump that warned me of impending tears. I didn't even know why I was crying anymore. "Please."




Seamus Ch. 08



He chose his words carefully. "I don't think that... this- is going to help. I can't make you forget-"

"I don't want to forget! I just want to feel you in me. It sounds fucked up and I don't even know how to describe it- but I need you. Just make me feel safe so that I know you're here with me, please! Please, Neill..." I squeezed his cock slightly and ran a light fingertip over the hot, trickling head. Neill tried to stifle a moan as his body arched against mine.

"Seamus," he warned.

"Please!" I shifted a little and rubbed his cock down the silky path between my buttocks. "I love you. This isn't about forgetting Nate. This is about you and me. I know you need it and I need it too. We can comfort each other."

"Okay," Neill whispered. "Alright." His hand snaked from my chest to my erection. "Fuck, you're hard too," he gasped. I shivered as he started to stroke my length, playing my foreskin over the sensitive head.

"What'd you expect?" I asked. My elbow was starting to ache from being bent up behind me. Reluctantly, I let go of his cock and stilled his hand on mine. "Please fuck me."

He started to protest about making me upset but I shushed him. "Please." 

Neill's lips plucked at the side of my neck. His hot tongue slid around my earlobe. "I'd love to," he whispered. "But you're very vulnerable right now-" The hand that had held my cock dappled its way over the muscles flanking my hip. His warm palm smoothed down the globe of my buttock then cupped it in his hand. 

"Neill, please. I know you want to."

I heard him reach into his drawer. A moment later he smoothed something greasy around my delicate anus. "Are you sure?" he asked me. 

My hand found his cock again and guided it to my entrance. "Yes," I whispered. "Let me comfort you." I pressed backwards, causing my tiny opening to strain and then yield. I felt his hands on my hips, slowing and controlling my movement as his head popped past my sphincters. His hot, hard length eased inside my clasping warmth. Once he was all the way in, we held together for a long time as my body became accustomed to the feeling of being totally filled. Slowly Neill began to move.

I don't know what happened but suddenly we became frantic. I rammed myself back as he thrust forward, over and over again. A pleasant burning sensation rippled through my tight rectum driven by the friction of his invading cock. I didn't care that it hurt; the pain made me feel alive. His hands moved from my hips to tightly wrap around my chest. His hungry mouth patrolled my neck, plucking and planting wet kisses into my sweating flesh. He frantically clasped my hip with his top thigh. I dug the nails of one hand into it, holding him in place to allow him to take me deeper. My other hand stroked forcibly up and down my cock. Neill moaned and pounded into me harder, if that was possible. With every thrust, his hairy balls pressed tightly to my flesh. "Oh god, it's okay," I heard him gasp. "Everything's gonna be okay. Isn't it?"

"Yes, everything gonna be alright," I grunted. "It's gonna be fine."

"You're here..." his movements became shaky. He reached for my weeping erection and helped me jack myself. His palm was sweaty. "It's alright."

Those calloused fingers spread a mixture of precum and sweat along my shaft. Neill's hand twisted and turned, pumping me. I felt his other hand sift my silken ballsac. Heat shot through me as my body tightened. Two more thrusts, each angled to judder across my prostate, sent electricity jolting through my groin. My balls clenched and my shaft tensed with agonising pleasure. I cried out, involuntarily arching my back as every muscle in my body seemed to curl in on itself. Then with a huge rush all the pressure released. My cock jerked, releasing a torrent of hot, thick semen through Neill's fingers. I felt my rectum vibrate and squeeze around his length as I released two more bolts of cum. I was crying as I came down from the rippling ecstasy and I didn't even know why.

Neill tensed and moaned, his shaft pulsing inside me. I heard his voice tremble in his throat as he lost control. It was a strange sound, sort of a mixture of, "Fuck," "Yes," and "Love you." I felt his hands, slippery with my hot semen, clench onto my hips. His fingernails dug in as he earthed his cock completely inside me. As hot cum shot deep into my tremoring bowels, his body tensed and shook against my back. The air shuddered in and out of his lungs, just as mine did. His sweat mingled with the hot droplets running down my back. Slowly the aftershocks left us and our bodies relaxed once more. He tried to pull out but my rectum tightened its grip on his cock. My buttocks pressed hard against his hips, refusing to let him pull away. "Please... Please just stay..."

Neill trembled violently. "Seamus..."

"I need you here," I whispered. "So I know..." 

I felt his arms snake beneath my arms and tighten around my chest once more. His hands rested over my thundering heart. I could feel his pulse against my back and in the organ still throbbing inside my rectum. The tears continued to roll down my cheeks. "It's alright," I heard him say. "You're going to be fine. I love you. I won't go away."

"I know..." I was so scared that I would wake up and he wouldn't be there. I don't know why. I just couldn't let him go. My own arms lay across his, holding them to my body.

"Everything's going to be alright..." We both repeated those words several times as if trying to reassure ourselves it was true.

I heard him slip slowly into sleep, his breathing rhythmic and warm against my neck. He was still inside me, partially soft, a welcome intruder, letting me know that he really was there with me. His warm arms were still wrapped around me, holding me close to the firm cushion of his chest.

Despite Neill's reassuring presence, I could not sleep. My thoughts were filled by images of another man lying lonely and sedated in a hospital bed. I felt so terribly guilty, knowing that I had devoted so much time to thinking about Neill that I had not noticed when the drinking started again. Sure, I had complained when Coach banned Nathan from games for a couple of weeks for being hung-over, but I thought nothing of what 'hung-over' implied. I was such an idiot! 

What had driven Nathan to such terrible, destructive lengths? Was it me? When he said he thought he was gay, when he said he loved me, did he mean it like that? Or did he mean, as he said the second time, he loved me like a brother? It was all my fault...

Author's notes: I realise now that the file will be too long if I make this the final chapter, so I'm planning two more. I don't want to go past ten chapters. Thanks to everybody who has left me feedback during this series, it's really great to hear from you.



Seamus



"No," I moaned. "No." I found my tongue. "Don't you get it? I've been a dick, a complete shithead. I want you, I do, I want you so badly-"

"Oh, just cut the crap," Neill spat. He tried to punch me again, but I blocked his fists.

"No- It's true, I do, I do. I wanted you to shag me last night, but I was stupid and scared- I've wanted you so badly for so long, but I'm such a shithead that I was scared someone would find out. It doesn't matter, I don't care who knows, I want you!" 

Neill sort of calmed down after that. He chucked the bag off his bed and sat down. He took a deep breath and looked at me properly. His eyes were wider than usual, and a little wet. "Oh shite, Seamus..."

I took a deep breath and sat on the bed beside him, close to his legs, but not touching. "So... are we cool?"

"Yeah," Neill said. "Look, um, no-one needs to know about us. I mean- well, it doesn't mean we're gay or anything, really. You haven't done this before, have you?" 

"No," I replied. "Have you?"

I think I saw a flash in his eye of some distant memory, or maybe I was just imagining it. "Once, sort of- Me and Marcus were drunk last year, but nothing really happened."

"Marcus?" I said with a bit of a smirk (Marcus is this guy who is best described by the words 'hairy', 'huge' and 'ape'. Don't get me wrong, he's a good mate, but he can be a bit thick, and he is the hairiest human being I have ever seen.)

"I was really pissed," Neill protested. "It doesn't matter does it?"

We both laughed. "Of course not," I said.

Everything went still then, as if time had stopped. We sat there for ages, just looking at each other's faces. Then one of us touched the other, and it was like someone had pressed the fast forward button (sorry if this sounds like Burton's 'Big Fish'). Electricity crackled across our skin, our lips met, our arms pulled us together. His lips were soft and muscular, and I found that he was leading me, coaxing my mouth open with his hot tongue. I willingly let him slide inside, his hot saliva merging with my own, our tongues entwined, massaging one another like the hand on my groin. I went wild. It was amazing. We moved against each other, pushing, pulling, like we were fighting one another rather than prefucking. My skin blossomed with heat, his every touch sent shivers through my body, radiating warmth. I was so hard already, harder than I've ever been in my life. 

Neill pushed me back on the bed, so that I was lying beneath him. He pulled himself up and straddled me, his knees pressing in below my shoulder joints and squeezing my chest tightly. His pants were loose and made with a thick weave (he had his sixties ugly pants on that day), but I could still feel his hard cock and balls burning into my chest. He wiggled himself around a bit, making sure that I could feel it. "Ride me," I groaned. He did just that, slowly humping himself against my chest whilst he leant forward and kissed me. His silky hair formed a tent around our faces, but there was nothing girly about it. He smelt wonderful, a sort of combination of cinnamon, dope, old man clothing, sweat and cum. My senses reveled in the assault they were getting. 

Neill moved further down me, and lay his head on my chest for a bit, whilst I draped my arms loosely around him. "Shite," he gasped.

"Yeah- God-" I replied. I pulled him up to my face and kissed him, and it was all on again. Our sweaty muscles fought and twisted against each other. We took off our shirts, relishing the way our bodies met, hard muscle on hard muscle, stretched ligaments and tendons moving with the muscles under our skins, sort of rippling like water over our chests.

I was fascinated by his nipples, they were brown and not actually as big as I had thought they were, but the had very thick, hard heads. I bent my head and licked him, generating a moan of, "Fuck, do that again." I did, flicking the tip off my tongue over both nipples, starting with the left and moving right then left again – whilst I moved between them, my hot saliva went cold, so that when I came back, they were warmed up once more, causing Neill to shiver. After a few seconds of doing that, I bent over and properly administered my tongue, swirling all over then sucking the nipple into my mouth. Neill went crazy – he trembled all over, threshing his body against the bed, moving his hands over my back and pulling me further onto him. His pelvis seemed detached from his body, tilting and humping against me in a powerful frenzy. "Oh- Ugh- Fuck, Seamus-" he moaned. I wondered how he would be when I sucked his cock.

I pulled off him and started to unbuckle his belt. Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Fuck," Neill swore.

"You guys haven't murdered each other, have you?" My ex, Jill, from two doors down. She was cool, we were still friends.

"No, we're fine!" I called out.

Another voice, Kevin, who didn't actually live in our Hall, was about 28, but always seemed to be there. "Have you guys kissed and made up yet?"

Someone else, "Neill, your car's still out the back with the trunk open. Do you want me to move it? The kitchen staff are seriously considering getting it towed."

"Greg," I said, identifying the voice.

"Shit," Neill said. He got off the bed in a hurry and did up his belt. He struggled with his t-shirt for a second, then got it on back to front, so he had to take it off and put it on again. "Nah man, I'll come out and shift it- I'll just be a second, I've lost my keys with all this shifting around. Could you go down and stall the staff?"

"Yeah sure. I'll see you there."

"Do you want a hand bringing your bags back in, Neill?" Jill asked.

"Yeah that'd be good." By that time we were both dressed, and trying to hide our boners. Neill wedged his behind his belt buckle (ouch), I relied on baggy trackpants and a long rugby jersey. We opened the door.

There were six people crowding the hallway. Jill, Kevin, Greg, a girl I didn't know, Harry (our neighbour) and our RA, Liam. Liam glared at me. He always glared at me, I don't know why. He slapped Hall fines on me whenever he possibly could. To make matters worse, he was also in my rugby team, and somehow managed to get me in trouble with Coach a lot. I think he had what I call short person's disease – because you're small, you make up for it by having an immense ego. Liam was about 5'5", bulky, yet fast – he was nicknamed 'the Bullet'. He had a military-issue haircut (apparently it made him run faster) and narrow, dark eyes. (If you're wondering why I'm telling you this, me and Neill taught him a lesson he wouldn't forget in a hurry that year, I'll tell you about it later). 

"Shit, what happened to your face?" Kevin exclaimed, staring at me. 

Instinctively, I touched my face, sort of checking that it was all still there. There must've been a mark from when Neill had hit me. "Somebody punched me," I said.

"Yeah, I thought you guys must be having a fight," Harry said. "It's all over, I hope?"

"Look, I'd better go rescue my car before it gets impounded. I'll see you guys later." Neill pushed through the group, followed closely by Jill ('Wait up! Don't walk so fast!' If she wasn't wearing her knee-high fuck-me boots it probably wouldn't have been so hard.)

I smiled. I couldn't help it. "Yeah, it's all over." 

"Look man, if I've learned anything at all here, it's that one girl and two room-mates do not work," Kevin told me. Neill must've have told them we'd fought over Simone, I guessed.

"Yeah," I said.

"Anyway, you're both good-looking guys – I mean, half the hall wants to fuck you, and the other half has already done Neill in the three years he's been here. You'll get more chicks."

I almost laughed.

In the next story – I tell you how me and Neill finally slept together, and how Liam finally got his come-uppance.