Jum

[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.)

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14. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

In which Josh has to deal with Valentine's Day




Valentine's Day arrived before I knew it and since I'd never been with anyone on that day I wasn't entirely sure what to do. I'd gone out just before his birthday to buy the silly stuff usually associated with Valentine's Day—card, chocolates and all—but I had to wait until the day after to give it to him. There was just no way I was going to take that stuff with me to uni and I couldn't plan anything for the afternoon either since it was Thursday.

I admit I felt a bit silly walking down Oxford Street shopping for Valentine's Day stuff. Everywhere I went seemed packed full of girls giggling and guys looking like they didn't have a clue. Plus I had to spend a rather embarrassing amount of time in there choosing the damn card. A big "I love you" just didn't seem right. I mean it had only been a few weeks, right? I'd never said it to anyone and call me old-fashioned but I didn't want to say it without truly meaning it. So I went for a text-less but still romantic-looking card, hoping that would do the trick.

I bought a box of chocolates in Thorntons because I knew their stuff was good. But fucking hell, the old woman at the till had to go and say, "Oh, she's a lucky one!" when I paid for the box I'd chosen—one of the large ones they had—and asked for it gift-wrapped. I swear I had to grit my teeth so I could smile at her instead of saying that, no, sorry, these were actually for a guy, got a problem with that?

Stupid people with their stupid assumptions… Maybe next year I'd get a card that clearly said "boyfriend" on it—assuming we were still together, you know—and see how people would react to that.

Anyway…

We didn't meet for breakfast on the fourteenth. I whispered an extremely quick "Happy Valentine's Day" and squeezed his hand under the table when we settled down for our first lecture and left it at that when he couldn't stop himself from grinning and blushing and had to look away. I'm not lying when I say we were like a couple of giggling schoolgirls. Pretty sad, I know, but awesome at the same time. If that makes sense.

The morning lessons seemed to take forever that day. I was beginning to think we were stuck in some weird stopped time dimension thingy and that lunchtime would never come when we finally reached the end of the last lesson, hooray! Unhurriedly, we made our way to his—no, to our—coffee shop and sat at our usual table in a corner at the back. After a bit of persuading on my part, he let me buy him lunch and beamed when I returned to the table with a slice of chocolate cake he hadn't asked for.

"Tradition, you know," I mumbled, taking the stuff off the tray and placing it on the table.

"Huh?"

"You're supposed to give chocolates on Valentine's Day, right?"

"But I—"

"We can share it and then we'll be even, right? This is all I can do right now. Sorry…" I added, sitting down.

I felt his legs shuffling under the table and suddenly one of his knees was touching mine, rubbing against it.

"This is more than enough. Having… you… is more than I would ever have dreamed of a few months ago."

I stared at him while he focused extremely hard on his cup of tea, unable to believe that this was for real. OK, I know it had been a few weeks now and he was still here, apparently able to put up with me, but there was still a part of me that thought he'd suddenly take off when I least expected it. And I couldn't ignore that fucking voice, no matter how hard I tried.

It really hadn't been that long and I'd fallen hard. Really hard. Too hard, I knew. Still, for the time being he didn't look like he wanted to be anywhere else so I'd be damned if I was going to focus only on the negative stuff!

 

*


I must admit that I was tempted to ask Michael to skip classes the following day so we could have some extra time together. I didn't, because I knew he was the kind of student who didn't miss a single lesson unless he was unwell and I didn't want to make him feel guilty. So I bided my time patiently—his lesson was from eleven to noon, mine from ten to eleven—and we made our way to my place as soon as he was done.

We'd pretty much bought each other the same kind of stuff so that made me feel better. He'd also gone for a text-less card and the chocolates were from Hotel Chocolat. Nice! Mom had bought me one of the big slabs once and their stuff was yummy. True, it felt weird to stand there and suddenly go "I've got something for you" but I think we were both as uncomfortable so it kind of cancelled itself out, if you see what I mean.

As usual, I'd made us sandwiches so we ate lunch in front of the TV and then snuggled up to watch a movie. Once it was over and I'd cleared everything up, I took him by the hand and led him to my room.

"Sit there," I said, pushing him on the bed.

I went to the window and closed the blinds a bit before putting my iPod in its speaker system and selecting the 'sexy' playlist I'd made the night before. Oh yeah… Then I went in the kitchen to retrieve what I'd inconspicuously put in the microwave.

Michael's eyes widen. "Is that—"

"Chocolate sauce. Yeah, baby," I said with a grin.

I sat next to him and stirred the melted chocolate, breathing in the oh-so-lovely aroma. I'd done it just long enough and the consistency was perfect. I licked the spoon clean in the most seductive way I could manage and placed it on my bedside table before dipping a finger in and smearing it over my lips.

"Come get your chocolate," I whispered, trying not to laugh.

I was, of course, rewarded with the furious blush I'd come to love so much. But I puckered my lips and waited. I mean, come on, this was Michael. And chocolate. And me. There was no way he could he just sit there and do nothing, right?

I watched him biting and then licking his bottom lip and I knew it would only be a matter of seconds until our fun began. I closed my eyes and waited, and couldn't stop grinning when I felt his lips brush against mine in a shy kiss.

"Come on… That chocolate isn't going to lick itself off, you know," I teased, placing a hand on his waist and inviting him to scoot closer.

I heard him letting out a soft sigh but I kept my eyes closed. When I felt his hand under my chin I followed his lead and tilted my head back a but, grinning wider and wider.

Three.

Two.

One.

Go!

I barely felt his tongue to start with. He moved away after a few seconds and I heard him chuckle, but I didn't move. I waited patiently, and sure enough, he came back for more and did it with more insistence this time, licking my bottom lip first and then the top one. And then he held my face in his hands and gently sucked on my bottom lip. Oh yes. Well of course I couldn't stay still anymore and proceeded to thoroughly French-kiss him! And between you and me, he so didn't mind.

"My turn now?" I asked when I finally broke the kiss.

He nodded and waited patiently while I applied some chocolate on his lips. I won't surprise anyone when I say that I didn't waste a single second, right? It was fun and sexy at the same time—he agreed, judging by his own growing erection—and I was glad I'd gone for it. I admit that I'd stood in that supermarket aisle for quite some time, looking at the chocolate sauce and wondering if that might be taking my personal fantasies a step too far. But even if we didn't go any further than licking it off each other's lips, I was a happy man.

"I'm never going to want to eat chocolate the normal way again. So boring," I whispered against his lips when we came up for air. By that point I'd made him recline against the pillow and was kind of lying half on top and half next to him.

"I must admit it's… surprisingly fun."

"Not grossed out?"

"Uhuh," he said with a smile. "What next?"

"Well I do have a few ideas, but… maybe we should put a towel on my bed, just in case."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't try to hold me back when I got up and looked for a towel in my cupboard. He was wearing Claire's turtleneck. As much as I loved the way he looked in it, my plans needed it to go.

"Take your top off," I said in his ear, straddling him and slipping a hand under the turtleneck. His stomach was so nice and smooth. Yes, it would be most delicious... "I promise I'll keep you warm," I added when he looked at me questioningly.

'Unfortunately', we started kissing again and I got side-tracked. I'd never been the kissing type because I used to see it as something in the way of other, better things I could be doing, but it was different with Michael. I wanted to take my time. I wanted to enjoy every single second. Besides, his lips were so very delicious and he looked so cute once his cheeks were flushed and his lips pink and slightly swollen—which was exactly the way he looked when I pulled back.

When we finally broke apart, I had both hands under his turtleneck so he propped himself up and we worked together at getting it off. His hair was all messed up once the turtleneck was finally discarded and man, this time he really couldn't look any cuter! But I resisted going back to his lips. Instead, I pushed him down again and grabbed the chocolate sauce, aiming for his chest and stomach. I only applied a small amount, though, because I'm pretty sure this sort of thing could get messy if you got too much at once. Also, the last thing I wanted was to make myself sick with it. So I trickled a thin line down the middle of his chest, not going anywhere near his jeans, another one following his collar bone and then circles around his nipples, which made him laugh.

The laughter turned into a soft hissing sound when I got down to licking and sucking my way around his chest, though, and it wasn't long before his hands went for my hair, grabbing handfuls of it and tugging once in a while. Oh God, those moans of his! I tried to spend a little more time than necessary on his nipples, licking and sucking and alternating between the two since that got the loudest moans out of him and I even managed to catch one between my teeth but I got a good yank on my hair for that so I only did it once. Bottom line is that once I was done he was panting and squirming and again I had to use all the willpower I had not to try to jump him there and then.

This was working far better than I'd anticipated.

"My turn," he said, taking the chocolate sauce from me. "Lie on your front."

"What, you'd rather not see my face or something?" I chuckled.

"Just do it."

I took my sweater off and obliged, and I'd just settled down that his hands were already on me.

"Hmm, just as I expected…" he whispered. "Seeing Swan Lake made me realise I might just have some sort of back fetish. And yours is quite delicious indeed."

I felt the long line of chocolate sauce dripping along my spine and then one on either side, stopping at my shoulder blades. I was dying to see him licking that chocolate off of my lower back but he pushed my head away when I tried.

"Please don't look or I won't be able to do it."

You know, I wouldn't have thought that kissing and licking that part of my body would be particularly nice, but bloody hell, he sure made it so! I think he used his hands almost as much as his mouth to cover just about every single square inch of my back and made me discover that I apparently was a fan of back rubs, so by the end of it I'd completely melted.

"How did you get such a nice back?" he eventually asked, lying on top of me and nibbling at my neck.

"Swimming. There's a pretty good gym not too far from here and I go there a couple of times a week. Well, I used to go."

"Why did you stop?"

"I used to like going there during the week on Tuesday and Friday afternoon after class but these days I have… other commitments," I said with a smile.

He climbed off me and settled next to me on the towel. "I don't have to come over all the time, you know. If you'd rather—"

I rolled over to my side, moved right against him and silenced him with a kiss. "D'you really think I'd even consider choosing working out over you?"

The way he smiled at me got us into another kissing and groping session during which I lost a bit of time. Not that I had a problem with that, of course.

"Urgh," he panted when he parted again, "our chests are sticking together…"

"Sweat, chocolate and saliva. How lovely," I chuckled. "Hey, we could have a shower. Or carry on and possibly make a much bigger mess," I added, palming his crotch gently.

"The idea of a shower sounds nice, but—"

"Shower it is then," I said, getting off him and placing the chocolate sauce back on my bedside table.

True, I would have loved to carry on but… yeah, baby steps. I mean I gave him a choice so I had to go along with his decision, right? Besides, I had the feeling that eating more might make me queasy so maybe it was for the best.

We started kissing again as soon as I'd locked the bathroom door behind us. For a second I was tempted to go back for the chocolate sauce after all but at the same time I didn't want to part from him so I stayed where I was. He came into my arms and wrapped his around me, mimicking most of my moves, which gave me an idea.

"Follow my lead, OK?" I said against his lips.

And so he did, moving his hands up and down my arms and back in sync with my own movements, and his lips never left mine. Slowly, our fingertips caressed our waists and hips, slipping into our jeans and stroking the skin tantalisingly hiding underneath the elastic bands of our boxer shorts. Smiling against his lips when I heard his breath quicken, I moved my hands towards the front of his jeans and started unbuttoning them. He tried the same on me but I was wearing a belt, as usual, so he fumbled blindly for a while before chuckling and abandoning my lips to look down long enough to undo it. My eyes were locked on his as I slowly pulled his jeans and boxer shorts down and felt my own slide down my legs, and I smiled when his eyes widened as I knelt down in front of him.

"I thought we— shower?" he gasped, bracing himself against the sink as I let my tongue run down his entire length.

"Later."

"This was… your plan all along… Right?"

I gave him my most mischievous smile before taking him into my mouth, hands on his hips to keep him right where I wanted him. Again, this was unfortunately not the sort of situation in which I'd be able to drag things out much but something told me he wouldn't really mind.

His moans… Oh God. His voice when he spoke was so lovely and soft that I still didn't expect the low, guttural moans he uttered when he was in this state. And they always had a very strong effect on me, so of course, you know me by now, I did all I could to hear as many of them as possible. Meaning that before long I had to allow my right hand to take care of my own aching erection or I'd go mad.

With all the kissing, petting and grinding we'd done on my bed, he came pretty quick and I followed suit shortly afterwards—all over the bathroom floor… Yeah, all right, so I hadn't really thought it through, sorry! I had to force him to stay upright while I cleaned the floor because this was not a stain I wanted to have to explain to anyone.

Before we got to the bathroom, I'd thought that maybe we could have another round in the shower if he was up for it but now that we were stepping in it I realised it wasn't necessarily a smart move. I had promised I'd slow down so I wouldn't "kill him", hadn't I? Now if he happened to make a move first it would be an entirely different story, but yeah… I'm not going to pretend that I stuck to one side of the shower and left him entirely alone because that would be a big lie, but I kept it decent. I mean come on, it was out first shower together! What do you expect?

Had I been a manga character, I think I would have had an instant nosebleed when I turned around at one point while drying myself up and saw that he'd slicked his wet hair back. Holy shit, he looked so different! In a good way. A very good way. I briefly wondered if there was any way I could persuade him to leave it like that before turning around in an attempt to hide how fast my body was responding to Michael-with-a-towel-around-his-waist-and-his-hair-slicked-back.

"Can I borrow a hairdryer?" he asked as I walked out, tightening the towel around my waist.

Guess I'd have to work on him for some time if the first thing he asked for after his shower was a hairdryer… But I wouldn't give up.

"Sure. Tall cupboard to the right of the sink."

I heard a crashing sound as I zipped up my jeans and ran back to see him picking the straighteners from the floor.

"I'm sorry, the cables were tangled up so they fell from the shelves when I pulled the hairdryer out. I hope I didn't damage them. Don't tell your mother."

"Don't worry, they're tough," I chuckled. "And they're mine. She keeps hers in her bedroom."

He blinked. "You use straighteners?" he asked, looking at me as if I'd just sprouted wings or something. There was a clear hint of mockery in his voice.

"Yes, I do. Thanks to Mom, my hair is naturally wavy. And I don't like it."

I could see he was still smiling. A sneaky little smirk in the corner of his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said, and the smile grew a bit wider.

"It's not that weird. A lot of people use straighteners."

"I would assume a lot of these people are women."

"John Barrowman straightens his hair!" I blurted out.

He laughed and turned to me. "What does John Barrowman have to do with this?"

"N—Nothing. He just… he's the first person that came to my mind. That's all."

He put the hairdryer down and leaned against the sink. "It's not the first time you talk about him. Do you fancy him?"

"What?"

"Do you?"

"And what's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm asking a simple question."

I shrugged, trying to act cool. Ish. The truth was that if I were to have a wet dream about anyone other than Michael, John Barrowman would most likely be at the top of the list. And I hated the fact that he'd figured it out so easily.

"I might do. I admire the guy, you know? He's had the career I dreamed of when I was younger and he's… pretty good looking…"

He took a couple of steps until he was in front of me. "If I look inside your wardrobe, am I going to find some secret pictures somewhere?"

"You cheeky bastard! You never would have talked to me like this when we first met."

"Aren't you glad I'm comfortable enough to do it now?"

"Absolutely," I said, grabbing him by the towel and planting a kiss on his lips. "But don't you get too cocky on me, all right?"

All I got for a reply was a smile, but that was enough for me.

All too soon after we'd finished getting ready—of course I did my hair as well, what did you think?—it was time for him to go home and for me to start wishing it were Monday morning again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything better," I said, scratching the back of my head. "If Mom and Dad had been away this weekend… or better, if I had my own place, I could have asked you to stay over and cooked for you…"

"You can cook?" he asked, putting his coat on and walking towards me.

"Damn right I can!" I replied, putting my hands in his pockets and pulling him right up to me. "Someday I'll show you. A proper candlelit dinner and everything."

"I'd like that."

"Then we have a deal," I replied against his lips.

"But you seem to forget that this was my first Valentine's Day as well and… well, I could hardly have done worse than I did."

"Don't—"

"I promise I'll do better," he said silencing me with a kiss.

I don't know how I'd have reacted if he'd added something like "next time" so I'm glad he didn't, but at the same time I really liked the fact that he implied it anyway. So I silently promised myself that the following year would be infinitely better.

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