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.

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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.