Blood Rising - Part Fourteen
Title: Blood Rising (Part Fourteen)
Author: gregoria44
Rating: 16+ for adult concepts, this part
Word count: This part, 1,904
Summary: Back to reality.
A/N: Same as Part One. All comments and concrit always welcome. Special thanks to haldoor, ladywillin and rivers_bend.
Warnings: These are teenagers and this is gay fiction. Stuff happens. Please note age rating if easily offended.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen
The evening moved into night, getting messier in a gradual way that made it hard to notice the slide. People were spreading out from their original groups, giving me chance to escape from Tag for a while, but Des was circulating back and forth, making him hard to pin down.
At one point I bumped into Wayne who was back to lurking in the kitchen. “It’s a good do, this,” I told him. He was borderline drunk, becoming more morose with every mouthful.
“’S all right, I suppose.” He gazed over to where Kelly was chatting to a Ben. “You know we’ve had some of Tag’s family staying over this last week?”
“No.”
“Oh, aye. I don’t think me and Mam are quite good enough for them; if you ever need to know what being a bad smell is like, I’m the man to ask.”
There wasn’t much to say to that, but it explained plenty. Des stepped up behind us taking Wayne by surprise, dropping an arm round his shoulder. His fingers were a couple of inches from my face, and I struggled to take my eyes off them. “Thought you said these blokes were a bunch of posh tossers? They seem all right to me.”
Wayne mumbled something unintelligible, and Des gave him a squeeze. “Never mind, mate, it’s only for one night. You want to go outside: see what Will’s up to; he’s got them eating out of the palm of his hand.”
“Bloody hell!” Wayne moaned, his voice rising a couple of octaves. “What’s so special about ‘outside’ all of a sudden? We’re not in bloody Italy, you know.” He shrugged Des off and stomped over to sit the other side of Kelly, presumably to glare at her from closer quarters.
I turned to make a joke about it, but Des had already moved away.
On the patio, Will’s edges were getting sharper as everyone else’s got more blurred. He was holding an impromptu wine-tasting session, and it was impossible to tell if his intentions were good.
“Not like that! Remember the hamster cheeks: blow, suck, blow, suck. Then you swallow… or spit, depending on your preference.”
“Do you think we should stop him drinking?” Mark muttered round his fingernails.
“Sooner you than me,” I said, unhelpfully, and opened another tin.
*
By midnight, I was feeling the first twinges of boredom. It had been a long day, and nothing was going the way I’d hoped.
The Bens were happiest talking about themselves (a subject of limited interest) and my lot weren’t exactly the life and soul: Will was becoming more work by the minute, Wayne and Kelly were charging towards falling out or getting off, Mark wanted to involve me with the Will problem and Des had disappeared altogether. I was trying to ignore the fact that one of the Benesses had also gone AWOL.
I headed out to the garden, and found somewhere to sit on my own for a bit.
The bigger part of me was stinging with disappointment that I hadn’t had Des to myself the whole night. The smaller part wouldn’t stop imagining him up a corner somewhere, fingers caught in the shiny hair of someone he barely knew. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, forcing the stupid picture out of my mind, but it was hard not to read anything into his actions, or lack of them.
Staring blankly at the house, it took me a while to see what I was looking at: framed by the French windows, stage lit from within, Kelly and Wayne were (as expected) all over each other like entangled squid. A rise of laughter came from somewhere in the room, and a shouted request from Will for some Barry White.
The gross unfairness of choices I hadn’t even made hit me squarely in the chest. Was this really what the fuck it was all about? Was it really all about raging hormones and seething jealousies and getting carried away in public as some sort of vindication for it all?
Standing up, I took a step forward, unsure where I was going, but thinking home might not be a bad start. Whatever it was I wanted, whatever it was I wanted to achieve, I wasn’t going to find it the way Wayne had: thrashing around in front of a drunken audience.
“Hey.”
It was a quiet, still word, and it stopped me in my tracks. Des was standing next to me, light from the doorway refracting through the grey of his eyes. He was watching me intently. “How come you’re out here by yourself?”
When I didn’t answer, he gave a slow smile that suggested I didn’t need to. There was something about it that reminded me of the first time we’d kissed; when he’d been scared, and I’d been the one to make the first move. It was strange, experiencing it from the other side.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked him.
He smiled all the more. “With that girl Tag sat you next to. She wanted to ‘talk’.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I had to be polite, but there’s only so far you can go with that.”
I decided to take the sentence at face value. “Where did you leave her?”
“She’s inside, ‘talking’ to Tag. Thought it might get them both off our backs.”
His half-suggestion put me on the defensive. “Tag’s all right, he was trying to include me in things, that’s all.”
“I know, mate,” Des laughed, looking back towards the house.
“Do you?” I was suddenly tired of joking around. I needed some reassurance that he was taking me seriously; that he understood what he was putting me through.
“Steve…” His eyes focused back into mine, all traces of humour gone. He touched my arm lightly but then gripped harder as though the first contact wasn’t enough. “I know.”
All the tension inside my body shifted towards him, instinctively taking me with it. I breathed the smell of him, felt the burn between us. He swallowed, letting go of my arm, but didn’t immediately move away.
“I wasn’t just talking to people, earlier,” he said, unexpectedly. “I had a look round as well; there’s something I want to show you.” His hand drifted against mine and then he turned, walking further into the shadows where the grass began.
Without a second’s hesitation, I followed.
There’d never been any reason for me to explore beyond the Hamilton’s large lawn, but the garden went back a long way, wandering round overgrown flowerbeds. Distant streetlights washed the sky with orange, and we made our way silently in the semi-darkness, leaving the sounds of the house behind us.
“Here.”
Hidden behind a long hedge, a little brick outhouse building came into view. Even in the low light, I could see a key in the lock. Des pointed at it and came to a stop. “Amazing the faith people have in each other, isn’t it?”
Whatever plan he’d been working on, I would have gone along with it regardless. The fact he’d had me in mind was enough.
Two minutes of rusty scraping later, we were the other side of the door, eyes adjusting to the heavy gloom. “Now what?” I asked, hoping that I already knew the answer.
Making a big show of checking his watch in the murky light from the murkier window, he pushed me until my back was up against the empty wall. “Happy birthday, then.”
It was the closest we’d been since Lancashire, but it was different; more knowing. He leant the length of his body along mine, and kissed me.
There was no taking it slow, no playing it safe, no doubt from either of us. It was hot and disorganised and breathless and great, and it was having the same effect on him as it was me. He moved back slightly, smiling with something like relief. “That all right with you?”
I answered by going in for another kiss, wrapping my arms around him, bringing him back against me. The material of his waistcoat slid under my hands, his shoulder muscles moving as he repositioned himself between my legs.
“Sweet Jesus, fuck.”
Pressed together, there was no mistaking what it was all about. He took the opportunity of me swearing to lick up my neck and place his tongue inside my ear. It was something I hadn’t had done to me before, and it made me twitch violently into his touch. He responded by grinding against me, dragging more curses across the air.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, vibrations amplifying the words in my head.
“Why? What are you…?” I felt him rubbing against my hard-on, outlining the shape of me with his fingers; curving down lower and working back up. Regular breathing became too much of an effort for speech.
He had trouble undoing my flies with his left hand restricted. “Sorry.” His voice was so low, guesswork had to tell me what he’d said.
“You’re joking, right?” I managed, fumbling over clothes I’d been in and out of a hundred times.
Then there was nothing in the world except his hand, and what he was doing to me; the feel of it, the feel of him, the need for it to go on forever and the sense that it was going to be over all too soon.
Overwhelmed, I shut my eyes and pressed my head back into the wall, but inexperience left me totally unprepared for what happened next: his rhythm changed, the motion stuttered slightly, and a warm wetness surrounded the head of my cock like nothing I’d even dreamed of. My eyes opened so quickly, I couldn’t see anything for a few seconds.
“Oh, my God…”
If it had lasted an hour, I still wouldn’t have blinked. It was an image that was going to be burnt onto my brain forever. I daren’t reach out to him: scared that he’d stop, scared that he’d carry on. He’d already got me right inside his mouth, sucking hard enough to give me a new understanding of how pain could be a good thing.
“Des…” My voice sounded strange, even to me. I scrabbled my fingers on the wall behind me, needing to get a grip on something solid.
“Des… I…” The rising note of panic wasn’t enough to warn me, let alone him, and I came quick and hard with a force that I hadn’t known possible.
There was a horrifying moment as he pulled back coughing, strings of my come briefly suspended between us. I froze, unable to think, let alone ask if he was all right; surely I’d done some irreparable damage?
Dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, he glanced up at me as I stared at him in shock, jeans half-way down my thighs, tackle dangling. He coughed again, and then, unbelievably, started laughing.
“Bloody hell, Steve!” Without getting up, he shifted sideways and propped himself next to me on the wall, still laughing.
As the ridiculousness of the experience began to sink in, I pulled my clothes around me and inched down the wall til we were level with each other. “I am so sorry.”
He moved his head to face me, grinning wildly. “Just shut up, yeah?”
I grinned back. “Shut up, yerself.”
Reaching out, he curled his arm around my thigh, and we sat there for a long time, coming down together.
*
Part Fifteen
Overstock Discount Coupon
Author: gregoria44
Rating: 16+ for adult concepts, this part
Word count: This part, 1,904
Summary: Back to reality.
A/N: Same as Part One. All comments and concrit always welcome. Special thanks to haldoor, ladywillin and rivers_bend.
Warnings: These are teenagers and this is gay fiction. Stuff happens. Please note age rating if easily offended.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen
The evening moved into night, getting messier in a gradual way that made it hard to notice the slide. People were spreading out from their original groups, giving me chance to escape from Tag for a while, but Des was circulating back and forth, making him hard to pin down.
At one point I bumped into Wayne who was back to lurking in the kitchen. “It’s a good do, this,” I told him. He was borderline drunk, becoming more morose with every mouthful.
“’S all right, I suppose.” He gazed over to where Kelly was chatting to a Ben. “You know we’ve had some of Tag’s family staying over this last week?”
“No.”
“Oh, aye. I don’t think me and Mam are quite good enough for them; if you ever need to know what being a bad smell is like, I’m the man to ask.”
There wasn’t much to say to that, but it explained plenty. Des stepped up behind us taking Wayne by surprise, dropping an arm round his shoulder. His fingers were a couple of inches from my face, and I struggled to take my eyes off them. “Thought you said these blokes were a bunch of posh tossers? They seem all right to me.”
Wayne mumbled something unintelligible, and Des gave him a squeeze. “Never mind, mate, it’s only for one night. You want to go outside: see what Will’s up to; he’s got them eating out of the palm of his hand.”
“Bloody hell!” Wayne moaned, his voice rising a couple of octaves. “What’s so special about ‘outside’ all of a sudden? We’re not in bloody Italy, you know.” He shrugged Des off and stomped over to sit the other side of Kelly, presumably to glare at her from closer quarters.
I turned to make a joke about it, but Des had already moved away.
On the patio, Will’s edges were getting sharper as everyone else’s got more blurred. He was holding an impromptu wine-tasting session, and it was impossible to tell if his intentions were good.
“Not like that! Remember the hamster cheeks: blow, suck, blow, suck. Then you swallow… or spit, depending on your preference.”
“Do you think we should stop him drinking?” Mark muttered round his fingernails.
“Sooner you than me,” I said, unhelpfully, and opened another tin.
*
By midnight, I was feeling the first twinges of boredom. It had been a long day, and nothing was going the way I’d hoped.
The Bens were happiest talking about themselves (a subject of limited interest) and my lot weren’t exactly the life and soul: Will was becoming more work by the minute, Wayne and Kelly were charging towards falling out or getting off, Mark wanted to involve me with the Will problem and Des had disappeared altogether. I was trying to ignore the fact that one of the Benesses had also gone AWOL.
I headed out to the garden, and found somewhere to sit on my own for a bit.
The bigger part of me was stinging with disappointment that I hadn’t had Des to myself the whole night. The smaller part wouldn’t stop imagining him up a corner somewhere, fingers caught in the shiny hair of someone he barely knew. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, forcing the stupid picture out of my mind, but it was hard not to read anything into his actions, or lack of them.
Staring blankly at the house, it took me a while to see what I was looking at: framed by the French windows, stage lit from within, Kelly and Wayne were (as expected) all over each other like entangled squid. A rise of laughter came from somewhere in the room, and a shouted request from Will for some Barry White.
The gross unfairness of choices I hadn’t even made hit me squarely in the chest. Was this really what the fuck it was all about? Was it really all about raging hormones and seething jealousies and getting carried away in public as some sort of vindication for it all?
Standing up, I took a step forward, unsure where I was going, but thinking home might not be a bad start. Whatever it was I wanted, whatever it was I wanted to achieve, I wasn’t going to find it the way Wayne had: thrashing around in front of a drunken audience.
“Hey.”
It was a quiet, still word, and it stopped me in my tracks. Des was standing next to me, light from the doorway refracting through the grey of his eyes. He was watching me intently. “How come you’re out here by yourself?”
When I didn’t answer, he gave a slow smile that suggested I didn’t need to. There was something about it that reminded me of the first time we’d kissed; when he’d been scared, and I’d been the one to make the first move. It was strange, experiencing it from the other side.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked him.
He smiled all the more. “With that girl Tag sat you next to. She wanted to ‘talk’.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I had to be polite, but there’s only so far you can go with that.”
I decided to take the sentence at face value. “Where did you leave her?”
“She’s inside, ‘talking’ to Tag. Thought it might get them both off our backs.”
His half-suggestion put me on the defensive. “Tag’s all right, he was trying to include me in things, that’s all.”
“I know, mate,” Des laughed, looking back towards the house.
“Do you?” I was suddenly tired of joking around. I needed some reassurance that he was taking me seriously; that he understood what he was putting me through.
“Steve…” His eyes focused back into mine, all traces of humour gone. He touched my arm lightly but then gripped harder as though the first contact wasn’t enough. “I know.”
All the tension inside my body shifted towards him, instinctively taking me with it. I breathed the smell of him, felt the burn between us. He swallowed, letting go of my arm, but didn’t immediately move away.
“I wasn’t just talking to people, earlier,” he said, unexpectedly. “I had a look round as well; there’s something I want to show you.” His hand drifted against mine and then he turned, walking further into the shadows where the grass began.
Without a second’s hesitation, I followed.
There’d never been any reason for me to explore beyond the Hamilton’s large lawn, but the garden went back a long way, wandering round overgrown flowerbeds. Distant streetlights washed the sky with orange, and we made our way silently in the semi-darkness, leaving the sounds of the house behind us.
“Here.”
Hidden behind a long hedge, a little brick outhouse building came into view. Even in the low light, I could see a key in the lock. Des pointed at it and came to a stop. “Amazing the faith people have in each other, isn’t it?”
Whatever plan he’d been working on, I would have gone along with it regardless. The fact he’d had me in mind was enough.
Two minutes of rusty scraping later, we were the other side of the door, eyes adjusting to the heavy gloom. “Now what?” I asked, hoping that I already knew the answer.
Making a big show of checking his watch in the murky light from the murkier window, he pushed me until my back was up against the empty wall. “Happy birthday, then.”
It was the closest we’d been since Lancashire, but it was different; more knowing. He leant the length of his body along mine, and kissed me.
There was no taking it slow, no playing it safe, no doubt from either of us. It was hot and disorganised and breathless and great, and it was having the same effect on him as it was me. He moved back slightly, smiling with something like relief. “That all right with you?”
I answered by going in for another kiss, wrapping my arms around him, bringing him back against me. The material of his waistcoat slid under my hands, his shoulder muscles moving as he repositioned himself between my legs.
“Sweet Jesus, fuck.”
Pressed together, there was no mistaking what it was all about. He took the opportunity of me swearing to lick up my neck and place his tongue inside my ear. It was something I hadn’t had done to me before, and it made me twitch violently into his touch. He responded by grinding against me, dragging more curses across the air.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, vibrations amplifying the words in my head.
“Why? What are you…?” I felt him rubbing against my hard-on, outlining the shape of me with his fingers; curving down lower and working back up. Regular breathing became too much of an effort for speech.
He had trouble undoing my flies with his left hand restricted. “Sorry.” His voice was so low, guesswork had to tell me what he’d said.
“You’re joking, right?” I managed, fumbling over clothes I’d been in and out of a hundred times.
Then there was nothing in the world except his hand, and what he was doing to me; the feel of it, the feel of him, the need for it to go on forever and the sense that it was going to be over all too soon.
Overwhelmed, I shut my eyes and pressed my head back into the wall, but inexperience left me totally unprepared for what happened next: his rhythm changed, the motion stuttered slightly, and a warm wetness surrounded the head of my cock like nothing I’d even dreamed of. My eyes opened so quickly, I couldn’t see anything for a few seconds.
“Oh, my God…”
If it had lasted an hour, I still wouldn’t have blinked. It was an image that was going to be burnt onto my brain forever. I daren’t reach out to him: scared that he’d stop, scared that he’d carry on. He’d already got me right inside his mouth, sucking hard enough to give me a new understanding of how pain could be a good thing.
“Des…” My voice sounded strange, even to me. I scrabbled my fingers on the wall behind me, needing to get a grip on something solid.
“Des… I…” The rising note of panic wasn’t enough to warn me, let alone him, and I came quick and hard with a force that I hadn’t known possible.
There was a horrifying moment as he pulled back coughing, strings of my come briefly suspended between us. I froze, unable to think, let alone ask if he was all right; surely I’d done some irreparable damage?
Dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, he glanced up at me as I stared at him in shock, jeans half-way down my thighs, tackle dangling. He coughed again, and then, unbelievably, started laughing.
“Bloody hell, Steve!” Without getting up, he shifted sideways and propped himself next to me on the wall, still laughing.
As the ridiculousness of the experience began to sink in, I pulled my clothes around me and inched down the wall til we were level with each other. “I am so sorry.”
He moved his head to face me, grinning wildly. “Just shut up, yeah?”
I grinned back. “Shut up, yerself.”
Reaching out, he curled his arm around my thigh, and we sat there for a long time, coming down together.
*
Part Fifteen
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