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.