Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
Title: Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (Part Eleven)
Author: Ana
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: NC-17
Notes: I don't really know if you have noticed but it's basically impossible to post at ComingClean anymore, so from now on, you can find updates of my story here in my journal; at least until I manage to find what's going on. Special thanks to holiest_ofholes your comment on last chapter's COADM encouraged me to finally finish this part. Without furthermore, I give you Chapter Eleven.
Link to Previous Chapters: http://missmacy3334.livejournal.com/1975.html
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The heavy curtains of my bedroom window were conveniently open, offering us both a romantic view of the sunset. Light rain had started to fall, and I watched delightedly as tiny, crystalline droplets of water splashed against the glass before silently rushing downwards.
The entire scene looked pretty much like an epic dream to me, the kind you are bound to read only in literature, except this one was real. But maybe it wasn't; after all, the sensations stirred in me by such a scene could only compare to those you get when you're under the influence of some kind of hard drug, and let me tell you something, this specific drug named Billie Joe Armstrong caused some real powerful, hallucinating effects that were more than capable of erasing all trace of reality from my weakened mind. Hence, I knew I could not trust my eyes, nor my senses anymore.
There was something hidden within my previous analogy that would inevitably make me smile: that something was irony, evident irony. If I recalled correctly, right before our first kiss, Billie told me I was more addicting than any razor he'd had in his hands before; yet, like many other aspects in this relationship, this situation had managed to turn upside down. In other words, roles have managed to reverse once again.
It was then that I looked down and contemplated the gorgeous vision placed beside me on the bed: Billie Joe was lying comfortably on his side while calmly smoking a cigarette. I snuggled close behind him, unconsciously running my hand all along his body. He didn't say anything; the only audible sound that could be heard in the bedroom was a tiny gasp, or a muffled moan trying hard to escape his throat every time I pressed my lips to the back of his neck.
The smell of nicotine flying in the air soon filled my nostrils and reminded me of the very first time we had been alone in my studio. Back then, things had gone on smoothly, and I marveled at how effortlessly Billie Joe had managed to seduce me with that sweet, delicate innocence of his. Certainly, the very first time I actually paid some attention to him, it was mere lust what he had aroused in me, and I never planned on coming closer to any other feeling, but what can I say? I guess it just happened. Was it that somewhere along the line that lust I had initially experienced morphed into something far more complicated and dangerous? Was it love?
In spite of knowing how ridiculous it's going to sound from where you're standing, I just have to admit that I was scared. I'm not lying when I say I had hardly felt like this about anyone before, and I wasn't lying to Billie Joe either when I told him I had been in love before, but this was certainly different. The real problem was I had no idea how to explain this new kind of different.
There was, however, one thing I could tell for sure: we were moving forward; this relationship was moving forward, regardless of whether we wanted it to or not. Maybe it wasn't quite defined yet in what I considered to be the most awfully cheesy terms of "boyfriend and boyfriend" but that didn't really mattered anyway, for it was completely unnecessary. At that point, I consider we were more than that.
I wondered if he knew about it, if he had a clue about what was really going on between the two of us, and my first impression was that he did, but there was no way on earth he was aware of the actual implications of our being together. I knew for a fact that Billie Joe had deep, strong feelings for me, but what somehow managed to create havoc in the course of my thoughts was if the only reason he thought he loved me was that I was functioning as an outlet from his home life and complicated world in general. I still hadn't forgotten about the medical diagnosis I had read about in his private file, or the talk I'd had with his father and Principal Johnson, and I figured that if I was really going to go through this, I needed to help him in any way I could. I was strong and positively sure I wanted to do everything in my power and beyond to help him crawl out of that damn whole in which God or whatever other force had dumped him in. I felt like I owed it to him.
Lots of inquiries remained floating around in the air, and the minute I thought I had figured out the answer to any of them, more questions surfaced almost at the same time, one after another in an endless, maddening hurricane. But then again, whenever Billie Joe appeared before my line of vision, my entire world became a white canvas all over again; it was a vicious cycle which never seemed to come to an end.
I admit that my mind was wandering, but I knew that this complex train of thought I seemed to be trapped in wouldn't last much longer, for the pleasurable climax I had recently experienced had left me quite exhausted, and the relative sleepiness that came along with it was already starting to take over my senses, relaxing my body, making me want nothing more than to crawl in bed with Billie Joe so that we could stay like that until next morning.
In that moment he incorporated slightly, and reached out for the ashtray placed on the night stand. As Billie was putting out the remains of his cigarette, his pale skin made contact with the subtle shining of the last sun rays coming through the window, and it glowed as if he had just stepped onto the spotlight on the middle of a stage. Then, my eyes fell on three particular pink lines crossing Billie Joe's wrist, causing an odd shiver to run sullenly through my spine.
He turned to lie on his back, before fixating his dazzling emeralds on me. I could feel my heartbeat accelerating as his gaze followed the direction of my eyes; he would inevitably figure out what I was thinking.
"These ones healed faster for some reason," Billie said humbly. "I keep thinking you had something to do with it."
I can't deny that I was deeply moved by this statement, but deep down, I knew I'd had absolutely nothing to do with it, and how I wished I would have had the words to tell him that he was the one healing me, and not the other way around; yet there was another question wandering in my mind at that exact moment though. "Billie, have you-..."
"No, I haven't cut, and you don't really have to worry because I won't do it anymore."
"Is that a promise?"
"Yes, yes it is," he said shyly. "As long as you're with me, I guess I-..."
"No, don't say that; I'm positively sure you're gonna get better with or without me."
"Of course I will, but I'd rather you're with me in the process." Billie remarked delicately. "Promise me you will be there with me."
"Always," I stated decisively. That being said, I watched Billie smile at me before standing up and leaving the bed. He stripped from his shirt and carefully tossed it away. He soon started undoing his jeans too.
"What exactly are you trying to pull here, baby?" I asked amusedly.
"Nothing!" he was quick to assure me. "It's just that I feel awfully dirty and I urgently need to take a shower." Stopping to consider his next sentence, he made a slight pause. "You're welcome to join me if you want to," Billie said finally. I silently nodded my head.
I can't even began to explain how incredibly adorable was that mixture of sweetness and wit his personality seemed to have acquired now that we had left behind every student-teacher boundary that may have stopped us in the past.
He took me by the hand and compelled me to lift my tired body off the comfort of my bed, pushing away at once, every bit of sleepiness I may have had left. We took our time walking to the bathroom, stopping here and there to help the other out of his clothes. Once the last item of clothing had abandoned my form, Billie stared at me astonishingly while running his hands up and down my chest. His cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, which gave me the tender impression that this was the very first time he ever did something like this.
I realized then that I had never taken the trouble to ask Billie Joe about his sexual preferences. From my part, I always managed to find something quite alluring in each of both sexes, but I was totally in the dark about Billie. A few weeks before that night, it wouldn't have mattered if my baby was gay, straight, or anything in between, for my sick, demented method to get students into my bed was designed to work its magic both ways. However, this was one of the many questions that would remain unanswered to me; at least until the right moment of openly asking them came.
I admit that I wouldn't have been able to keep on with my train of thought if my life had depended on it. Billie Joe was demanding all of my attention in that moment, and I was only happy to lose the battle. He tilted his head, and I soon felt the warmth of his lips pressed against my chest. I grabbed his waist and gently pulled him closer towards me, as once again I began to feel that impending need of leaving absolutely no space between our bodies.
Somehow understanding this unspoken necessity of mine, Billie surrounded my neck with his arms before flashing up his innocent stare at me with his mouth parted slightly to speak. "Mike, I think I'-...," he started, but he didn't have to finish that sentence for me to figure out in advanced what he was going to say. I immediately shushed him with my index finger before there was no way back. It was definitely not the moment for those words to be pronounced.
"Come here, baby;" I said, "Let's take this into the hot tube, shall we?"
"Yes, please..." Billie murmured, and his eyes lit up. It seemed to me like I had skillfully managed to dodge the ball for the moment; I was quite certain that one day, my feelings towards this sweet boy would hit me in the face enough times for me to figure them out, and I'd be able to properly express those feelings to him the way he deserved it.
Once inside the bathroom, I handled the knobs until the water reached an enjoyable luke-warm temperature. Billie set two towels on top of the lid of the toilet and stepped into the tub. Luckily, we didn't have to fumble much with the other's limbs before finding a comfortable and peaceful position. What do I know? Maybe our bodies were meant for each other and they had been designed to fit like two stray pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Then, starting from where we had left off in the bedroom, my gorgeous little baby leaned towards me and our lips connected again in a passionate, heated kiss. Our tongues danced for a while, and I made an effort to remember the exact movements Billie liked the most when we were kissing. I knew he loved it when I bit his luscious bottom lip, and that his breath would falter him when I unexpectedly stuck my tongue into his mouth to give his a sensual massage. Truth is, kissing had never felt better with anyone before.
He had learned way too quickly how to turn me on as well. He knew what his precious little body did to me, and he always took advantage of it by rubbing it deliciously against mine. He knew I loved to feel I was in control, so he usually wrapped his arms around me as if asking to be protected. Little details like these made me want him, need him, even more, and the more I convinced myself these moments just couldn't get better, the more we discovered something new that was unknown even to ourselves.
Fortunately, our tongues were not the only ones moving; our fingers quickly started exploring each other's skin, proving here and there. Billie was really curious about being with another man, or so I could tell by the way his eager little hands ran smoothly all over me. A familiar sensation started to form in my gut; there was no doubt in my mind about what it was; I could feel the heat growing between my legs, and obviously, Billie would soon feel it too.
It wasn't long before I felt his palm enclosing around my hardening member. He pumped it slowly at first, just running his fingers up and down, but then he began squeezing the base a little, occasionally gracing the tip with the pad of his thumb, reproducing almost the exact movements I had made a few hours earlier when we had been engaged in certain activity of the same kind. I was about ready to explode.
"God, I've waited too long to touch you like this, Mike," Billie Joe cooed in my ear after readjusting his position to kneel between my parted legs. The sight of Billie's emerald eyes filled with such innocent lust was enough of a turn on for me, but the softness of his voice was able to work even greater wonders inside me. I shut my eyes and threw my head back as intense waves of pleasure shook my shivering body from head to toe.
The rhythm of that heavenly hand increased before I felt a set of wet lips attached to my neck. My arm flew around him to press him against me as my hips thrust into that iron grip that had me about to come. It was then that I became aware of certain rigidness poking my right thigh, and I realized that Billie needed some attention too. As if it had gained a mind on its own, my hand quickly fled to his cock, and I began rubbing it harshly, just like Billie was doing with mine. We settled for a faster pace that increased within every second; soon enough, Billie was desperately urging me to hold him while he pressed both of our wiping erections and rubbed them together in a crazy motion. Once again, we came at the same time, screaming the other's name loudly into the open air.
We lied still for a couple of minutes, letting the last shivers of our coordinated orgasm wash over our tired forms.
"So much for cleaning ourselves up," Billie murmured.
***
Our precious time together, locked away from the world eventually had to come to an end; everything in life that was worth the wait always had.
Billie and I got dress while enveloped in a comfortable silence. I offered to give him a ride home, but Billie courteously shook his head and asked if we could walk instead, so I put the car keys back in the night table drawer and took his hand in mine.
"It's a beautiful night, isn't it, Mike?"
I took a look around me; the cold night breeze was glowing underneath the light coming from the street lamps, and my still heated skin was being refreshed by the humid air around me. I used to go on a nocturnal walk every now and then to relax and clear my thoughts after a particularly busy day at work. But I admit I'd never contemplated anything like this gorgeous suburban scene we were now part of.
"It's certainly is, baby," I said, agreeing with his previous question. Billie squeezed my hand as he leaned in to me. I kissed the top of his head, taking a minute to enjoy the sweet scent of his black curls before surrounding his shoulders with my arm.
"May I ask you something?" His little voice broke the silence of the night.
"Well, you usually ask whatever you want to know regardless of my telling you I hate inquiries."
Billie giggled childishly. "My bad. What I've been meaning to ask you is: how come you started noticing me all of a sudden?"
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon, we both know what we mean. Now we're here, holding hands, calling each other by our first names, but two months ago you wouldn't even look at me."
"That is not true," I retorted.
"Of course it is! I would practically daydream in Literature while you were standing at the front of the class, lecturing about the underrated narrative style of Edgar Allan Poe, and there wasn't a single time I can remember you stopped a minute and look at me."
Poe was one of my favorite writers; I usually started the first lesson of the course by giving a presentation about the infamous Boston writer, so I understood perfectly what Billie was referring to.
"How was I supposed to know? You always sit at the back of the room and refuse to take part in any of the class activities. You had to come into my office and ask for an extension to your Modernism essay before I was finally able to set my eyes on you."
"Yet, you said no."
"But then I said yes."
"I'm glad you did. I had really started to think I was the stupidest person on Earth for falling in love with you."
"I get it, I was a complete asshole."
"No, you're just a great teacher."
If only... I thought. If only...
We kept walking for a few more blocks before the dark red facade of Billie's house appeared majestically before us. We stopped some feet aware from the doorway, reluctant to let go of the other's hand. "Listen, I have something I want to give you," Billie Joe said.
"Great! Am I getting a second book marker? Quite frankly, I'd love another one."
Billie just rolled his eyes and offered me a playful grin.
My eyes followed his hands as he reached into his left pocket and fidgeted with the fabric for a while until he came up with a little white plastic box; it had been sealed with a piece of red ribbon, which I untied effortlessly once I had it in my hands.
"I'm giving this to you because you're the only person I can trust," Billie said. I took one more look at him before removing the top lip. A small, shiny razor blade lied there, looking as innocent and harmless as any other random object would; only, I knew exactly what Billie had been using it for.
"It's my last one, I promise," he rushed to say. "It gave me comfort when I most needed it, but it's now time to move on. So, please take it as a reminder of the promise I made to you today."
Truth is, this relationship that I had once called sick was not made of shits and giggles anymore; this was for real. Perhaps, Billie Joe was the only one capable of destroying that evil shadow in me that resembled that one present in Dorian Grey. Based on this assumption, I started to believe that this time around, the classic story written centuries ago by Oscar Wilde would have quite a different closure.
***END OF PART 11***
I'm sorry for being absent so much time. I kept on changing the course of this chapter endlessly until I was finally satisfied with this final version. Heartfelt thanks to everyone who is still willing to read this story; your comments would mean the world to me.
Author: Ana
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: NC-17
Notes: I don't really know if you have noticed but it's basically impossible to post at ComingClean anymore, so from now on, you can find updates of my story here in my journal; at least until I manage to find what's going on. Special thanks to holiest_ofholes your comment on last chapter's COADM encouraged me to finally finish this part. Without furthermore, I give you Chapter Eleven.
Link to Previous Chapters: http://missmacy3334.livejournal.com/1975.html
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The heavy curtains of my bedroom window were conveniently open, offering us both a romantic view of the sunset. Light rain had started to fall, and I watched delightedly as tiny, crystalline droplets of water splashed against the glass before silently rushing downwards.
The entire scene looked pretty much like an epic dream to me, the kind you are bound to read only in literature, except this one was real. But maybe it wasn't; after all, the sensations stirred in me by such a scene could only compare to those you get when you're under the influence of some kind of hard drug, and let me tell you something, this specific drug named Billie Joe Armstrong caused some real powerful, hallucinating effects that were more than capable of erasing all trace of reality from my weakened mind. Hence, I knew I could not trust my eyes, nor my senses anymore.
There was something hidden within my previous analogy that would inevitably make me smile: that something was irony, evident irony. If I recalled correctly, right before our first kiss, Billie told me I was more addicting than any razor he'd had in his hands before; yet, like many other aspects in this relationship, this situation had managed to turn upside down. In other words, roles have managed to reverse once again.
It was then that I looked down and contemplated the gorgeous vision placed beside me on the bed: Billie Joe was lying comfortably on his side while calmly smoking a cigarette. I snuggled close behind him, unconsciously running my hand all along his body. He didn't say anything; the only audible sound that could be heard in the bedroom was a tiny gasp, or a muffled moan trying hard to escape his throat every time I pressed my lips to the back of his neck.
The smell of nicotine flying in the air soon filled my nostrils and reminded me of the very first time we had been alone in my studio. Back then, things had gone on smoothly, and I marveled at how effortlessly Billie Joe had managed to seduce me with that sweet, delicate innocence of his. Certainly, the very first time I actually paid some attention to him, it was mere lust what he had aroused in me, and I never planned on coming closer to any other feeling, but what can I say? I guess it just happened. Was it that somewhere along the line that lust I had initially experienced morphed into something far more complicated and dangerous? Was it love?
In spite of knowing how ridiculous it's going to sound from where you're standing, I just have to admit that I was scared. I'm not lying when I say I had hardly felt like this about anyone before, and I wasn't lying to Billie Joe either when I told him I had been in love before, but this was certainly different. The real problem was I had no idea how to explain this new kind of different.
There was, however, one thing I could tell for sure: we were moving forward; this relationship was moving forward, regardless of whether we wanted it to or not. Maybe it wasn't quite defined yet in what I considered to be the most awfully cheesy terms of "boyfriend and boyfriend" but that didn't really mattered anyway, for it was completely unnecessary. At that point, I consider we were more than that.
I wondered if he knew about it, if he had a clue about what was really going on between the two of us, and my first impression was that he did, but there was no way on earth he was aware of the actual implications of our being together. I knew for a fact that Billie Joe had deep, strong feelings for me, but what somehow managed to create havoc in the course of my thoughts was if the only reason he thought he loved me was that I was functioning as an outlet from his home life and complicated world in general. I still hadn't forgotten about the medical diagnosis I had read about in his private file, or the talk I'd had with his father and Principal Johnson, and I figured that if I was really going to go through this, I needed to help him in any way I could. I was strong and positively sure I wanted to do everything in my power and beyond to help him crawl out of that damn whole in which God or whatever other force had dumped him in. I felt like I owed it to him.
Lots of inquiries remained floating around in the air, and the minute I thought I had figured out the answer to any of them, more questions surfaced almost at the same time, one after another in an endless, maddening hurricane. But then again, whenever Billie Joe appeared before my line of vision, my entire world became a white canvas all over again; it was a vicious cycle which never seemed to come to an end.
I admit that my mind was wandering, but I knew that this complex train of thought I seemed to be trapped in wouldn't last much longer, for the pleasurable climax I had recently experienced had left me quite exhausted, and the relative sleepiness that came along with it was already starting to take over my senses, relaxing my body, making me want nothing more than to crawl in bed with Billie Joe so that we could stay like that until next morning.
In that moment he incorporated slightly, and reached out for the ashtray placed on the night stand. As Billie was putting out the remains of his cigarette, his pale skin made contact with the subtle shining of the last sun rays coming through the window, and it glowed as if he had just stepped onto the spotlight on the middle of a stage. Then, my eyes fell on three particular pink lines crossing Billie Joe's wrist, causing an odd shiver to run sullenly through my spine.
He turned to lie on his back, before fixating his dazzling emeralds on me. I could feel my heartbeat accelerating as his gaze followed the direction of my eyes; he would inevitably figure out what I was thinking.
"These ones healed faster for some reason," Billie said humbly. "I keep thinking you had something to do with it."
I can't deny that I was deeply moved by this statement, but deep down, I knew I'd had absolutely nothing to do with it, and how I wished I would have had the words to tell him that he was the one healing me, and not the other way around; yet there was another question wandering in my mind at that exact moment though. "Billie, have you-..."
"No, I haven't cut, and you don't really have to worry because I won't do it anymore."
"Is that a promise?"
"Yes, yes it is," he said shyly. "As long as you're with me, I guess I-..."
"No, don't say that; I'm positively sure you're gonna get better with or without me."
"Of course I will, but I'd rather you're with me in the process." Billie remarked delicately. "Promise me you will be there with me."
"Always," I stated decisively. That being said, I watched Billie smile at me before standing up and leaving the bed. He stripped from his shirt and carefully tossed it away. He soon started undoing his jeans too.
"What exactly are you trying to pull here, baby?" I asked amusedly.
"Nothing!" he was quick to assure me. "It's just that I feel awfully dirty and I urgently need to take a shower." Stopping to consider his next sentence, he made a slight pause. "You're welcome to join me if you want to," Billie said finally. I silently nodded my head.
I can't even began to explain how incredibly adorable was that mixture of sweetness and wit his personality seemed to have acquired now that we had left behind every student-teacher boundary that may have stopped us in the past.
He took me by the hand and compelled me to lift my tired body off the comfort of my bed, pushing away at once, every bit of sleepiness I may have had left. We took our time walking to the bathroom, stopping here and there to help the other out of his clothes. Once the last item of clothing had abandoned my form, Billie stared at me astonishingly while running his hands up and down my chest. His cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, which gave me the tender impression that this was the very first time he ever did something like this.
I realized then that I had never taken the trouble to ask Billie Joe about his sexual preferences. From my part, I always managed to find something quite alluring in each of both sexes, but I was totally in the dark about Billie. A few weeks before that night, it wouldn't have mattered if my baby was gay, straight, or anything in between, for my sick, demented method to get students into my bed was designed to work its magic both ways. However, this was one of the many questions that would remain unanswered to me; at least until the right moment of openly asking them came.
I admit that I wouldn't have been able to keep on with my train of thought if my life had depended on it. Billie Joe was demanding all of my attention in that moment, and I was only happy to lose the battle. He tilted his head, and I soon felt the warmth of his lips pressed against my chest. I grabbed his waist and gently pulled him closer towards me, as once again I began to feel that impending need of leaving absolutely no space between our bodies.
Somehow understanding this unspoken necessity of mine, Billie surrounded my neck with his arms before flashing up his innocent stare at me with his mouth parted slightly to speak. "Mike, I think I'-...," he started, but he didn't have to finish that sentence for me to figure out in advanced what he was going to say. I immediately shushed him with my index finger before there was no way back. It was definitely not the moment for those words to be pronounced.
"Come here, baby;" I said, "Let's take this into the hot tube, shall we?"
"Yes, please..." Billie murmured, and his eyes lit up. It seemed to me like I had skillfully managed to dodge the ball for the moment; I was quite certain that one day, my feelings towards this sweet boy would hit me in the face enough times for me to figure them out, and I'd be able to properly express those feelings to him the way he deserved it.
Once inside the bathroom, I handled the knobs until the water reached an enjoyable luke-warm temperature. Billie set two towels on top of the lid of the toilet and stepped into the tub. Luckily, we didn't have to fumble much with the other's limbs before finding a comfortable and peaceful position. What do I know? Maybe our bodies were meant for each other and they had been designed to fit like two stray pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Then, starting from where we had left off in the bedroom, my gorgeous little baby leaned towards me and our lips connected again in a passionate, heated kiss. Our tongues danced for a while, and I made an effort to remember the exact movements Billie liked the most when we were kissing. I knew he loved it when I bit his luscious bottom lip, and that his breath would falter him when I unexpectedly stuck my tongue into his mouth to give his a sensual massage. Truth is, kissing had never felt better with anyone before.
He had learned way too quickly how to turn me on as well. He knew what his precious little body did to me, and he always took advantage of it by rubbing it deliciously against mine. He knew I loved to feel I was in control, so he usually wrapped his arms around me as if asking to be protected. Little details like these made me want him, need him, even more, and the more I convinced myself these moments just couldn't get better, the more we discovered something new that was unknown even to ourselves.
Fortunately, our tongues were not the only ones moving; our fingers quickly started exploring each other's skin, proving here and there. Billie was really curious about being with another man, or so I could tell by the way his eager little hands ran smoothly all over me. A familiar sensation started to form in my gut; there was no doubt in my mind about what it was; I could feel the heat growing between my legs, and obviously, Billie would soon feel it too.
It wasn't long before I felt his palm enclosing around my hardening member. He pumped it slowly at first, just running his fingers up and down, but then he began squeezing the base a little, occasionally gracing the tip with the pad of his thumb, reproducing almost the exact movements I had made a few hours earlier when we had been engaged in certain activity of the same kind. I was about ready to explode.
"God, I've waited too long to touch you like this, Mike," Billie Joe cooed in my ear after readjusting his position to kneel between my parted legs. The sight of Billie's emerald eyes filled with such innocent lust was enough of a turn on for me, but the softness of his voice was able to work even greater wonders inside me. I shut my eyes and threw my head back as intense waves of pleasure shook my shivering body from head to toe.
The rhythm of that heavenly hand increased before I felt a set of wet lips attached to my neck. My arm flew around him to press him against me as my hips thrust into that iron grip that had me about to come. It was then that I became aware of certain rigidness poking my right thigh, and I realized that Billie needed some attention too. As if it had gained a mind on its own, my hand quickly fled to his cock, and I began rubbing it harshly, just like Billie was doing with mine. We settled for a faster pace that increased within every second; soon enough, Billie was desperately urging me to hold him while he pressed both of our wiping erections and rubbed them together in a crazy motion. Once again, we came at the same time, screaming the other's name loudly into the open air.
We lied still for a couple of minutes, letting the last shivers of our coordinated orgasm wash over our tired forms.
"So much for cleaning ourselves up," Billie murmured.
***
Our precious time together, locked away from the world eventually had to come to an end; everything in life that was worth the wait always had.
Billie and I got dress while enveloped in a comfortable silence. I offered to give him a ride home, but Billie courteously shook his head and asked if we could walk instead, so I put the car keys back in the night table drawer and took his hand in mine.
"It's a beautiful night, isn't it, Mike?"
I took a look around me; the cold night breeze was glowing underneath the light coming from the street lamps, and my still heated skin was being refreshed by the humid air around me. I used to go on a nocturnal walk every now and then to relax and clear my thoughts after a particularly busy day at work. But I admit I'd never contemplated anything like this gorgeous suburban scene we were now part of.
"It's certainly is, baby," I said, agreeing with his previous question. Billie squeezed my hand as he leaned in to me. I kissed the top of his head, taking a minute to enjoy the sweet scent of his black curls before surrounding his shoulders with my arm.
"May I ask you something?" His little voice broke the silence of the night.
"Well, you usually ask whatever you want to know regardless of my telling you I hate inquiries."
Billie giggled childishly. "My bad. What I've been meaning to ask you is: how come you started noticing me all of a sudden?"
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon, we both know what we mean. Now we're here, holding hands, calling each other by our first names, but two months ago you wouldn't even look at me."
"That is not true," I retorted.
"Of course it is! I would practically daydream in Literature while you were standing at the front of the class, lecturing about the underrated narrative style of Edgar Allan Poe, and there wasn't a single time I can remember you stopped a minute and look at me."
Poe was one of my favorite writers; I usually started the first lesson of the course by giving a presentation about the infamous Boston writer, so I understood perfectly what Billie was referring to.
"How was I supposed to know? You always sit at the back of the room and refuse to take part in any of the class activities. You had to come into my office and ask for an extension to your Modernism essay before I was finally able to set my eyes on you."
"Yet, you said no."
"But then I said yes."
"I'm glad you did. I had really started to think I was the stupidest person on Earth for falling in love with you."
"I get it, I was a complete asshole."
"No, you're just a great teacher."
If only... I thought. If only...
We kept walking for a few more blocks before the dark red facade of Billie's house appeared majestically before us. We stopped some feet aware from the doorway, reluctant to let go of the other's hand. "Listen, I have something I want to give you," Billie Joe said.
"Great! Am I getting a second book marker? Quite frankly, I'd love another one."
Billie just rolled his eyes and offered me a playful grin.
My eyes followed his hands as he reached into his left pocket and fidgeted with the fabric for a while until he came up with a little white plastic box; it had been sealed with a piece of red ribbon, which I untied effortlessly once I had it in my hands.
"I'm giving this to you because you're the only person I can trust," Billie said. I took one more look at him before removing the top lip. A small, shiny razor blade lied there, looking as innocent and harmless as any other random object would; only, I knew exactly what Billie had been using it for.
"It's my last one, I promise," he rushed to say. "It gave me comfort when I most needed it, but it's now time to move on. So, please take it as a reminder of the promise I made to you today."
Truth is, this relationship that I had once called sick was not made of shits and giggles anymore; this was for real. Perhaps, Billie Joe was the only one capable of destroying that evil shadow in me that resembled that one present in Dorian Grey. Based on this assumption, I started to believe that this time around, the classic story written centuries ago by Oscar Wilde would have quite a different closure.
***END OF PART 11***
I'm sorry for being absent so much time. I kept on changing the course of this chapter endlessly until I was finally satisfied with this final version. Heartfelt thanks to everyone who is still willing to read this story; your comments would mean the world to me.