The first time Neil and Freddy met was years ago, when Neil was living in London and working at the BBC, on the television show, Much Ado. Freddy's shop was on Oxford Street, and Neil had stumbled upon it quite by accident, looking for Christmas presents. His Tale sense told Neil that Freddy was also a Tale, though he had never remembered seeing him writing on the compendiums. It took several years for the reclusive Frederick to open up and be friends, but after that, Neil would come by all the time to hang out at Fred's, eating his tea cakes. It was one of the things Neil missed about moving to the United States, but with Freddy now in New York City, it was like old times
( ... )
Freddy couldn't help but laugh at Neil when he both signed and talked at the same time. If it'd been anyone else, he'd have been very offended at the gestures because it would have made him feel like the person thought he was too dumb to understand one or the other. He was strung across one couch, his long legs stretching out with his bare feet hanging off the end. "Because more Tales are here. I am trying to get out more," he signed back, going very slowly since his own motor functions were suffering from alcohol impairment.
He doubted very much he'd go out as much as his parents had wanted him to. They were scared for their son, how he was so shut in, and they just wanted him to come out of his shell more, given his age. So they'd paid for him to come to the United States, even though Freddy had the means to pay for himself. His eight siblings had gone on to have families and lives, why should he let one small thing like his deafness make him such a hermit?
The sign for 'Tale' was one which they had to come up themselves: the sign for 'story', followed by the sign for 'person. Glancing sideways at Fred, Neil looked dubious. "You wrote that in the compendium (sign language: magic; book). I'm glad for you, but it's such a big change! This is your first step, coming to America. Who... (oops wrong sign) ... what are you going to do to get out more? Join a gym?"
Neil smirked, indicating to Fred he was making a joke, but that didn't mean he wasn't wondering what things his friend was going to do to 'get out more'. Coming to America was just a beginning - if Fred decided to continue being a hermit, then he might as well have never left England.
Fred gave Neil a funny look at first, "Do you think I need to lose weight?" Then he patted his stomach, not that he was fat at all. The man, for being sheltered, was fairly lean, almost sinewy underneath his clothing. The joke had been a little lost in translation with the two of them as intoxicated as they were.
"I do not know. I read a lot. Maybe a book club or the park. I do like to go out and watch people," he signed. He'd have to use the computer to look into different avenues around the city. He could go to a Broadway play, even if he couldn't hear it, he could enjoy the spectacular visuals.
Maybe it was because Freddy was just too drunk and had hit that level of not giving a damn as with most states of intoxication or maybe Freddy wasn't scared of Neil and the way he acted. He wasn't afraid or put off by Neil's behavior once he'd gotten used to how he acted, plus the two of them were much older now, and he was past that phase of being weirded out by much in his life.
Perhaps he was just curious to see what Neil would do.
He swallowed and didn't move, only grunted when Neil started moving, his arms laying stretched out to his sides as he watched the other man.
It was as if Neil was hypnotized, not really believing that this was happening. For years he'd been only been teasing and joking, but now there wasn't even a flicker of protest. In fact, the grunting that came from Freddy sounded positively welcoming. The delicious friction Neil was producing spurred him on, and he could feel the other man's erection through the fabric of his trousers as they rubbed.
Becoming a little light headed, Neil leaned forward, pressing his hands against the floor on either side of Freddy, supporting himself while hovering over him, keeping direct eye contact with him until the sensations building in his own body forced him to squeeze his eyes shut and moan.
Freddy was more than likely not going to get off from what Neil was doing, regardless of the reaction his body had already given him, but he just lay there, his stomach tightening as Neil lay on him more. Neil was lucky that Freddy couldn't hear the moaning because it might have snapped him out of letting Neil do this. But he could see his mouth move and could guess what was going on by his facial expression. He still made no move to push him away, but just let his friend take advantage of the situation. Freddy was okay with Neil because he knew he wasn't going to hurt him and all he was doing was like having a wank but with his clothes on. No big deal, right?
As if something snapped, Neil's movements became more frantic, desperate. His hair fell into his face as he hung his head down, twisting his expression into one which, from Freddy's point of view, must've looked like extreme pain. However, it was quite the opposite. Though Freddy couldn't hear him, Neil cried out loud and came inside his jeans, his body shuddering from the effort.
Whimpering, Neil's arms felt wobbily, but he pushed himself into an upright position, trying to catch his breath. Had he just used his (straight) friend to get off? He looked down at Freddy, lying there, and scrubbed his hand over his face, then rose, using the arm of a nearby chair to support him as he got to his feet long enough to swing around and sit upon the same chair. He needed to be separate himself from Freddy, physically, and he instinctively reached for his glass of wine, draining the glass in one gulp.
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He doubted very much he'd go out as much as his parents had wanted him to. They were scared for their son, how he was so shut in, and they just wanted him to come out of his shell more, given his age. So they'd paid for him to come to the United States, even though Freddy had the means to pay for himself. His eight siblings had gone on to have families and lives, why should he let one small thing like his deafness make him such a hermit?
Reply
Neil smirked, indicating to Fred he was making a joke, but that didn't mean he wasn't wondering what things his friend was going to do to 'get out more'. Coming to America was just a beginning - if Fred decided to continue being a hermit, then he might as well have never left England.
Reply
"I do not know. I read a lot. Maybe a book club or the park. I do like to go out and watch people," he signed. He'd have to use the computer to look into different avenues around the city. He could go to a Broadway play, even if he couldn't hear it, he could enjoy the spectacular visuals.
Reply
Perhaps he was just curious to see what Neil would do.
He swallowed and didn't move, only grunted when Neil started moving, his arms laying stretched out to his sides as he watched the other man.
Reply
Becoming a little light headed, Neil leaned forward, pressing his hands against the floor on either side of Freddy, supporting himself while hovering over him, keeping direct eye contact with him until the sensations building in his own body forced him to squeeze his eyes shut and moan.
Reply
Reply
Whimpering, Neil's arms felt wobbily, but he pushed himself into an upright position, trying to catch his breath. Had he just used his (straight) friend to get off? He looked down at Freddy, lying there, and scrubbed his hand over his face, then rose, using the arm of a nearby chair to support him as he got to his feet long enough to swing around and sit upon the same chair. He needed to be separate himself from Freddy, physically, and he instinctively reached for his glass of wine, draining the glass in one gulp.
Reply
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