[IN PROGRESS!!] Josh is an American teenager living in London after moving all over the States when he was younger, and determined to make it his home. Meet Michael, the British boy who will help him do so. (BL, some chapters feature explicit content.)


21. Chapter 16 [2/2]



We slept in a bit on Saturday — I guess we'd both been expecting Mom and Dad's impromptu return because we kept waking up and falling asleep again, but thankfully nothing like that happened — and we took the rest of the day pretty slowly, doing a bit more homework in the afternoon.

Michael grew increasingly quieter the closer we got to dinner time and I did my best to help him relax but it didn't really work. He managed to eat all right and only tried to convince me to change my mind a few times before resigning himself to his fate.

"Seriously," I said with a small sigh while washing up, "you'd think you were facing execution or something! It's not that bad! You just need to relax and enjoy it."

"Easy for your to say…"

I let out another sigh. "Maybe it's a bad idea. Maybe I should just… go on my own for a couple of hours while you stay here."

"Don't say that."

"If you hate it that much—"

"I just… worry… about things. But what sort of boyfriend would I be if I let you go all on your own, right? So… I'll come, but you have to look after me."

"I promise."

"And also… don't let me drink too much, OK? I mean, what happened last time… I know that ultimately it was… for the best, but I'd like to remember everything I do or say this time."


And so we left home around nine o'clock. I made him change into one of my T-shirts because I decided the shirt he'd picked just wouldn't do, and I chose a black one with one of the simplest designs I owned. It was a bit too tight and too long for me so it didn't look too bad on him. It looked good, actually. Maybe I'd just give it to him since I really didn't wear it much anymore. Anyway, as for me, I had my favourite jeans on and another slightly close-fitting dark red T-shirt, with white trainers and a white belt. He laughed at the number of belts and wrist bands in my drawer but I told him that he just didn't understand the importance of matching accessories. That only earned me another chuckle to I decided to drop it for the time being.

The club I'd chosen was only a short Tube ride away and it was a rather low-key place. They had a cool R&B and Soul room and although the club wasn't gay only it was quite obvious that a lot of people there were, which meant we didn't have to worry much about bumping into anyone we knew. Even if we did, them outing us at uni would most likely mean outing themselves, right?


I liked that particular club because it wasn't very well known so it wasn't like trying to get into the big, overcrowded ones. Thankfully, it was comfortably busy when we got there so we made a beeline for the bar. I was ready to get on the dance floor the moment we dropped our coats off at the entrance, but Michael needed 'help'.

"Everyone's looking at you," Michael whispered, sipping his 'help'.

"Looking at us, you mean. Did you check the mirrors in the corridor on the way here? I can tell you we make a mighty fine pair tonight," I said, looking at him from head to toe.

"Say what you want," he shrugged, "but I can clearly see that almost every man and woman here is checking you out. Some are more discreet than others…"

I flashed him my best grin. "One of the many perks of being me."

He laughed softly. "Don't you feel bad, though, deceiving all these women?"


"You know. You're not very… I mean you're not obviously—"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I wear a sign to advertise the fact that I'm gay?" I said jokingly. "If you let me be all over you all evening then there'd be little room for anyone to get false ideas…"

He blushed and then paused for a second, blinking, before taking a sip and looking at me again. "I've never asked but… this seems like the right time. Have you ever… been out with a girl…?"


I guess I should have become used to the fact that he was always going to ask about things I didn't necessarily want to discuss right when I least expected him to.

"Might have," I replied nonchalantly.

"That makes sense."


"I just… It's quite easy to imagine you with a girl on your arm…"

I blinked and put my glass down. "Is that something you often do?"

"No, I don't! I mean… I told you months ago that you were popular with everyone, so…"

Ah yes, during our very first trip to the coffee shop, I remembered.

"So who was she…?"

"A girl I'd just met, really. Her name was Isis, after the Egyptian goddess. Her mother said they had Egyptian ancestry and were descended directly from the gods. Mind you, she did look like a goddess with that smooth, dark skin that shimmered because of the body lotion she used…" I paused and winced, scratching the back of my head. "I really shouldn't be talking about this."

"No, I'm curious," he said, finishing his drink. "When was it?"

I winced again. "Last… summer?"

I'm sure I don't need to describe the very heavily pregnant pause that inserted itself right there — hell, I'm not sure I could describe it any better than that anyway. I mean, what had he imagined? I'd told him I'd known for a long time that I liked guys, hadn't I?

"Were you… in a rebellious phase, rethinking your… preferences?"

I laughed. "No, nothing like that. Let's just say that I was a little curious, I wasn't with anyone at the time, and also — and that's the most important part — she wasn't the kind of girl who took no for an answer. I made it very clear to her that I batted for the other team but she still took me home with her."

"So you… slept with her?"

"Yeah. We kind of… dated for a month or so."


"I know. Err… d'you think we could talk about something else? I mean, not that I regret what I did. It was a… an experience, and she taught me a lot, but it cemented my belief that it wasn't what I was after. We parted amicably, really, but we've never met up again. So that's it for my Girl Adventure. Now you know everything."


We stood there silently for a while — well, as silently as you could in a club… — and I really wished we hadn't touched that subject. Why now of all days, huh? I could see that even though he'd had his 'help' and we'd waited for a bit, he still didn't want to move to the dance floor but I was literally itching to go so I had to do something. I bought him another drink, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to a corner of the room.


"Take a seat," I said, pushing him down and placing his glass on a small table on the side. 

"Why did you drag me—"

"I can't wait anymore so I'm going to dance right over there," I said, pointing behind me. "You just… enjoy the view," I said with a crooked grin.

"Wait, what if—"

"I'll keep an eye on you. But if you're too worried — about yourself or about me — come and join me," I added with a wink.

I leaned over and kissed him full on the lips to make the situation clear to anyone who might have been watching and made my way to the dance floor, swinging my hips a bit more than necessary, just for his enjoyment.

Gosh I felt like I was home almost the second I stepped into that crowd. I always enjoyed the music selection there so I closed my eyes and let the music take over my body for a bit. Not too long, though, because I hadn't forgotten that was I looking out for Michael at the same time, but God I felt so good. 

When I glanced back, my heart tightened a bit. He still looked so nervous… Well I'd work on it after a few songs, promise, but right now it was time for a bit of Josh Time. Even though I did make sure to glance back at regular intervals, I shut everything out and focused only on the music and the way it made me feel, the way it made my body want to move, and just let it guide me. It didn't last long, I wished it could have lasted much, much longer, but it was bliss and I felt like a battery I didn't know was running on empty had suddenly been charged up all the way to full again.

And then I realised someone was dancing a bit too close to me.

"Hands off," I said, leaning over just before his hands made contact with my waist.

He looked at me questioningly, cocking his head to the side a bit and looking like an endearing little puppy. He was quite cute; about the same height as me, short spiky dark hair, blue eyes. Six months ago I probably wouldn't have stopped his hands.

I nodded in Michael's direction — who was thankfully staring right at us and not looking very happy. "Boyfriend's watching."

"Shame," the stranger said, withdrawing almost right away but not before letting his index finger run down my arm. Oh, cheeky…

"Awww, thanks," I said with a wink before turning away and facing Michael again.

Almost right on cue, Naughty Girl by Beyoncé started playing. Now I can't say that I'm a Beyoncé fan but it was hard not to know her songs when you listened to mainstream radio, and I knew Naughty Girl. And it was so perfect for the idea that just popped into my head that I couldn't stop myself from grinning as I made my way towards my poor unknowing victim.

His eyes widened when I planted myself right in front of him and started moving with the music, running my hands over my body in a way far more provocative than I would usually do.

I love to love you, baby
I love to love you, baby

"Wh—What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like?" I asked, stepping closer and swinging my hips harder as I lip-synched the lyrics.

I'm feelin sexy
I wanna hear you say my name, boy
If you can reach me
You can feel my burning flame

I'm feelin kind of n-a-s-t-y
I just might take you home with me

Baby, the minute I feel your energy
Your vibe's just taken over me
Start feelin so crazy, babe
Lately, I feel the funk coming over me
I don't know what's gotten into me
The rhythm's got me feelin so crazy, babe

The look on his face was worth every single second spent making a spectacle of myself. And I knew I was — I could almost feel the glances from people on the dance floor.

Tonight I'll be your naughty girl
I'm callin all my girls
We're gonna turn this party out
I know you want my body
Tonight I'll be your naughty girl
I'm callin all my girls
I see you look me up and down
And I came to party

But you know what, I didn't care. It was fun. I was enjoying myself — from the dancing and from his reaction — and I nearly took it to the lap-dance level for the second part. People were definitely looking, some were even cheering, and I drew from their energy to keep going. When Michael finally gave up and got to his feet to join me, we got a really loud cheer and he hid his face against my neck.

"You'll pay for this, I promise you. I don't know how yet, but I promise you will," he said in my ear, his hands sneaking to my waist to pinch me.

"Can't wait," I replied with a grin before planting a quick kiss on his lips.

But it had worked. He finished his drink in one go and then finally joined me on the dance floor. Sure, he didn't look entirely comfortable to start with, but who cared? Like I'd told him last time, no one dancing around us was going to pay much attention, right?

"Remember, just let yourself go," I said in his ear, leaning over so I wouldn't have to shout too loud. He grabbed one of my hands and gave it a light squeeze before nodding.

I don't know how long we stayed there, but it must have been quite some time because when the thought crossed my mind we'd heard more songs than I could remember. I was glad the music selection was as good as I remembered; everything they played was mainstream and easy to move to.

We went back to the bar for a drink when both of us felt too sweaty and thirsty to carry on and then back on the dance floor. With three drinks in him, Michael was definitely feeling less self-conscious and it was quite enjoyable to watch, really. During slower songs, he even let me wrap my arms around him…

But with three drinks in him, there came a time when he needed the toilet. Thankfully, they had some upstairs. I tried to go along with him, even though I didn't need to go myself, but he insisted for me to keep us a spot by the bar and get more drinks. So I did, because I was a good boy who did what his boyfriend told him — sometimes at least. He'd been gone for a couple of minutes already when I suddenly felt someone… well, jumping me from behind, really. I put my glass down on the counter, moved the arms that had wrapped themselves around me and turned around, ready to tell whoever the jerk was to back off, when I saw—


Holy cow, how long had it been since I'd last seen him? The feeling of joy was a bit mixed, though; I felt more guilty than ever, running into him like this after not being in touch for several months.

"It's so good to see you," I said anyway, hugging him. "What are you doing here, man?"

"What are you doing here, you mean. It's been ages!" And with no more warning than that, he threw his arms around my neck, pulled me down to him and pressed his lips on mine.

Now I feel I should take the time to say that as far as Jez and I were concerned, that sort of thing wasn't… hmm, how do I say it? Well it wasn't that unusual. All things considered, though, I really wish he hadn't been so eager.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. "You can't do that. Not anymore."

He blinked a few times. "You're here with someone?"

"Yeah. And he… he'll be back any moment now."

He kept his eyes locked on me for a little while, frowning. "Hmm…"


"You look like a lovesick puppy."

"Do not!"


I grunted. "OK, yes, I'm with someone and I… really like him. Happy?"

"Then I'd better wipe that lipstick off your face or you'll have some explaining to do. And I'm sure you'd rather not, right?"

"Yeah, you got that right," I said as he looked around the counter — for a napkin, I assumed. "Why on earth are you wearing black lipstick anyway?"

"Oh come on, darling, it's part of the outfit!"

I looked down. Black sleeveless turtleneck, black leather-looking pants — at least they weren't hot pants, like I'd seen him wear a few times before… — and a green belt made to match his eyes and the highlights in his hair. He liked that sort of thing. And of course, the usual good dose of eyeliner to make his eyes stand out even more. I had to be honest, he looked good. He always did.

"Can those pants be any tighter?" I whispered in his ear with a chuckle.

"I'd have to be sewn into them."

"You're working tonight?"

"Possibly," he replied, wiping my bottom lip after finally getting his hand on a clean napkin.

Call me stupid but it never occurred to me to check how close we were standing to each other and what it might look like to an onlooker. As it was, one of his hands was on my shoulder, the other around the back of my neck, my arms had slipped down and around his waist and our… crotches were far closer than they should have been…

And that, of course, is how Michael found us when he came back.

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