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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36. Chapter 24 [1/2]

Chapter 24

In which life goes on




Monday morning arrived waaaaay too early, seeing how late I'd gone to sleep the night before in order to catch up with homework. I did not want to leave home — or my bed, ever — but the thought of seeing Michael again helped.

Except that he sent me a text message before I'd even left home to say that there were major delays on his train line due to some signal trouble and he wouldn't make it for breakfast. So I stayed home, had cereal and toast, and then made my solitary way to university. It was weird to get there and not meet up with him straight away the way I always did, and even weirder not to go to our coffee shop for breakfast. Funny how you only realise that you're stuck in a routine when it gets messed up and you have to do things differently, I guess.

Ten minutes before the first lecture, he sent me another message saying that he was on his way but would be late, and asking if I could sit right at the back and save him a seat. I ran to the tiny coffee shop that was actually inside the main hall of our building and bought a muffin and large tea just before the lecture started, hoping the tea would stay warm until he arrived.

He was almost twenty minutes late in the end, but since I'd kept the aisle seat on the last row free for him, he was able to sneak in mostly unnoticed — luckily for him, that particular room had a second door at the back. He was panting, which made me wonder if he'd run all the way from the Tube station, and he threw his bag on the floor before slumping over his seat — he did it all quietly, but it was still very unlike him.

"You OK?" I asked, throwing him a quick glance.

"Of all the days for the trains to be so messed up…" he groaned, picking up his bag again and trying to unzip it with one hand.

"Just relax and listen to the lecture. I've got two of the printouts he gave us at the beginning and I'm taking the best notes I've ever taken, just for you. Oh, and I got this too. I hope it's still warm," I added with a smile, handing him the small bag I'd kept safe between my feet.

"Oh, thank you…" he said with a sigh, taking the paper cup out and immediately adding sugar and milk before taking a sip. "You're a lifesaver; I haven't eaten anything today."

I would have liked to watch him devour his muffin and tea, but I focused on taking notes, just like I'd promised I would, and the second half of the first hour went by quickly. When break time came — that teacher always gave us at least a five-minute breather — a few people left their seats and went out, but we stayed put.

"Today sucks," Michael said with a pout. "I can't take any notes. I can hold a pen, but everything feels too stiff for me to do anything with it."

"I told you, I'm taking notes for you."

"I do have lessons without you, you know. One of them is this afternoon."

"You'll find someone else who can lend you their notes. Come on, you're always ready to lend yours to everyone; I'm sure they'll reciprocate."

"I can't even… tie my own shoe laces. And I won't tell you how long it took me to put my clothes on…"

He certainly looked less neat than he usually did, and I felt a little sorry for him.

"That's not all you can't do without your right arm," I said much lower, leaning towards him so only he would hear me. "I'll be happy to help—"

"Not here!" he hissed. "I can't believe you just—"

"What happened to your arm??" a female voice suddenly said — sounding very close — and we both looked up to see Emily standing right next to Michael.

Remember her? The pretty girl I'd danced with at that party before Michael and I got together? That's the one.

So there she was, standing very close to us, and I had no idea how long she'd been there, or what she might have heard or seen. Thankfully, Michael's brain wheels started turning again quicker than mine.

"I was in a traffic accident on Saturday," he quickly said.

Her face fell. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. It looks worse than it really is; I should only need the sling for about a week."

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head. "It's more annoying than painful, really. I was just telling Josh that I can't take any notes."

"I can give you mine."

"Oh it's OK, I've got Josh," he said a bit too quickly, and she gave us a… kind of funny look, before telling him not to hesitate if he needed help, and then going back to her seat.

Later that day, during lunch, Michael let out a fairly long sigh. "We have to be more careful."

"What d'you mean?"

"The way we interact when we're in public… Especially here. With everything that happened this weekend, I just— Sometimes I forget too easily."

"That means we're comfortable," I said, moving my foot so it rested against his, but he moved it away.

"I know, and I like that, but this morning, for instance… I thought my heart was going to stop when I saw Emily. I'm not… ready."

"I don't think she's the type of girl who'd start rumours and stuff. I mean, she knows about me and she never—"

"What?" he said, his head snapping up.

"What what?"

"What do you mean, she knows about you?"

Oh shit. I really had a gift for putting my foot in my mouth, didn't I?

I let out a small sigh and put my sandwich down. "Look, last year, before you and I got together— It was before Christmas, and anyway I was already interested in you and all, but she… she asked me out."

"What?!"

"Don't get all jealous on me for something that didn't even happen!"

"I'm not jea—"

"Anyway, even if I hadn't had my eyes on you, I'd done my share of experimenting with Isis, so… Well, you know, she's cute and funny and probably the type of girl I'd go for if I did go for girls, so… I had to tell her."

"Tell her…"

"Why I wasn't interested," I said slowly, starting to wonder if he wasn't concussed after all. It wasn't like him to make me repeat myself and explain every sentence like that.

He took a few deep breaths and leaned over. "Don't you think that… maybe, just maybe, you could have told me?"

"I didn't say anything about you!"

"That's not what I mean! What I mean is… It's not so strange coming from me since I don't have any friends here, and—"

"What on earth are you going on about?"

He took another deep breath and sat back in his chair. "We spend all of our time here together."

"Not all of it…"

"Only when our lessons aren't the same, and that's just a handful of hours in the week! We get here at the same time, we always sit together for lectures, lessons, lunch, and we go home together. Even when I don't go to your place, we walk the same way anyway."

"So?" I said with a frown, not sure I liked where that was going.

"So you don't think some people might wonder what's going on?"

"Why are you worried about that now? And why would they care? We're friends."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You're friends with everyone. Before… before the end of January, you always spent time with everybody else, always part of a group. Since then, you… you only ever spend time with me."

"Are you saying you want me to leave you on your own and go back to them? Because I'm telling you I won't—"

"That's not what I meant, calm down," he said with a small smile.

"So what—"

"I don't want to give you up and I wish I could always have you all to myself, but I just— I'd like us to be more careful. I'm not ashamed," he added quickly before I had time to say anything, "I'm actually extremely proud, but I'm just… I'm not ready for this. Not just yet. I came out to my parents two days ago and—"

"I know," I said, wishing I could hold his hand or stroke his face or something. "OK, I promise to be more careful."

"Thank you."

 

*


So from the following morning onward, I did my best to abide by his request. Not that I left him alone and just went over to other people, but I tried to interact with others a bit more. It felt kind of odd to start with, but it was easy, and after a few hours I was glad I was making the effort. I really had disconnected myself from everybody else without realising it, and I could tell Michael was pleased even if he tried hard to hide it. He even joined in a little, more than he ever had at the beginning of the year.

Still, I was relieved when the afternoon came and I could focus solely on him again. We walked home side by side the way we always did, not too close but not too far from each other either, and I pulled him to me the second the door was shut, minding his arm.

"You've been trying hard," he said, planting a quick kiss on my nose.

"You noticed? I wonder if anyone else did."

"If they did, no one mentioned it." Another kiss on my nose. "Thank you."

"Time for a bit of TLC, or do we have to get on with homework right now?" I asked, nuzzling his neck.

He smiled, put his bag down and slipped out of his shoes. "Lead the way."

Bedroom it was, then. I helped him take his coat off — easy since he could only put it half on anyway — and move to the middle of my bed. I even stacked my pillows behind his back.

"Is that OK? I could get you a cushion from the lounge as well, if you want."

"It's fine," he said with a small chuckle. "It's only a sling; you know nothing is broken."

"Come on, let me fuss over you," I said, showing him my best pout. "Only just the other day, I was left thinking for a while that I might never get to see you again."

He reached out with his good arm and placed his hand on the back of my neck, massaging it the way I loved, and pulled me closer until I was straddling him and our foreheads touched. "I'm sorry. OK, you can fuss."

He was so adorable. Sure, the apparent bruises on the side of his face made him look different — hopefully they wouldn't leave any scar; I bet his skin marked easily — but the expression was right. It was definitely my Michael sitting there in my bed.

I cupped his face and tilted it up so I could kiss him properly. "What would you like me to do?" I asked when I pulled away.

He leaned forward and captured my lips again as his good hand sneaked under my clothes, and we probably lost a minute or two there.

When he moved away, there was a calm, knowing smile on his face — I liked it. "I… I would like you… in me again."

I blinked. I hadn't expected that. "I…"

"You did ask."

"Yeah but I— I mean, you arm…"

"We can take the sling off, if that's what you're worried about. It shouldn't be a problem if I stay like this and don't put any weight on it."

"No, that's not what I meant. I don't want to hurt you."

"Like I said, it should be fine."

Was I really supposed to argue with him there?

"I have another request," he added while I sat there not doing anything. "I want to stop thinking. The last few days have been so intense and… I feel like my brain won't slow down, no matter what I do. Even when I sleep, I—"

"So you want me to screw you until your mind goes blank?"

"That sounds like a very good idea right now."

I took my time helping him out of his trousers and boxers, pushed his cardigan and shirt up a little — that must have been fun getting into in the morning — and went down to business lavishing his skin with kisses. It felt like it had been ages since I'd last had my fill of it, so I savoured every square inch of that pale, soft, sweet skin of his. When his breathing went up a notch, I left him long enough to get what I needed from my bedside table and planted a kiss on the inside of his leg when I returned.

"I'm going to put one on you," I said, setting the condoms aside, "just to make sure we don't make a mess. I don't suppose you want to wrestle out of all of your clothes until you have to tonight, huh? But we don't have to do that just yet…"

I uncapped the lube and squirted some on my fingertips, enjoying the way his breath caught a little as he watched it slowly slide down my fingers.

"Open your legs for me…?"

With a face suddenly a few shades darker, he did as I asked. I teased him for a little while, but not too long, and then slipped the first finger in. He gasped and I watched his body tense up until he got his breathing under control again and the tightness around my finger eased up a little. Slowly, I pushed another finger in and his back arched a little.

"I do love the way you moan," I whispered, planting a few more kisses on the super soft part of his inner thigh as I slowly stretched him.

When the third finger went in, his back lifted off the mattress in earnest and he let out a real moan when I took him in my mouth.

"Hmmm Josh, please," he said, threading the fingers of his good hand into my hair.

"Uh uh, we're taking it slow today," I replied before kissing the tip of his length and then taking him into my mouth again.

I went on for a while, bobbing my head in time with the rhythm set by my fingers, until his own fingers closed on my hair and pulled.

"Not fair that I'm… the only one naked here…" he said, panting and smiling.

"Soon enough," I whispered, kissing his leg again and even catching the skin between my teeth, closing them hard enough to make him start but not enough to leave any kind of bruise.

I kept going for a few more minutes, replacing my mouth with my hand and stroking him slowly until his hips just wouldn't stay connected to the bed anymore. Since I didn't want to send him over the edge just yet, I stopped, reluctantly, withdrew my fingers and shucked off my own clothes. I put the first condom on him and then quickly prepared myself before positioning myself and slowly pushing into him.

"Oooooh…"

"Ngh…" I echoed, not even resisting when he pulled me down to him.

Making sure to keep my movements slow, I grabbed the back of his knees and pushed a bit, forcing him to spread wider. I sank deeper into his wonderful soft heat and his left hand reached for my hip as his eyes closed and his head fell back against the pillow.

"Ngh yesss… That. Just… like that."

I had him right where I wanted him, right where he wanted to be, so I pulled away a bit to get on my hands and knees and started rolling my hips.

"Oh God…" he moaned, trying to move in time to meet me halfway.

I did my best to keep a slow pace — almost maddeningly so. Our various… let's call them experiments, had so far been relatively quick ones because we'd given in to the pleasure each time. But I wanted him to really feel it this time. I believed that was going to get him into the headspace he wanted much better than a hard fuck into the mattress — and besides, I wasn't comfortable with the idea of fucking him hard. Not yet anyway.

A long stream of mostly unintelligible moans came out of his mouth as I kept my hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm, and I swear I'd never heard anything so pleasant. At some point, he wrapped his long legs around me and tried to use them to force me to change the rhythm, but I wasn't having it. I chuckled when the squeezing became more insistent and decided to change the angle. To be honest, I could feel myself getting close and there was no way I wanted to finish so soon, so I needed to change the angle. I grabbed his legs, forced him to put them down on either side of me again, and ignored his disapproving grunt when I pulled out.

"Please…"

"Don't worry. Just want to try something different," I whispered soothingly, spreading his thighs wider apart and scooting closer.

He tried to pull his knees back all the way to his chest again but I shook my head and left my hands on them so he'd stay as he was.

"Please, Josh… I can't—"

"Shhh…"

I lined myself up and sank back in slowly, savouring the way his body clamped down on me before gradually relaxing again. I resumed my slow pace, keeping my thrusts slow and shallow — but occasionally going deeper and harder, just to mix things up a bit — and throwing my head back, eyes closed, so I wouldn't see him. He was looking so far gone, so blissed out yet frustrated at the same time, that I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on to what self-control I still had if I looked at him for too long.

I don't know how long I went on for, but at some point I just couldn't ignore the sounds he was making anymore. So I shifted a bit, rested my arms on the mattress again, and kissed him.

"You OK?"

All I got was a weak nod, but I noticed his brow was clearly furrowed.

"What do you want? Tell me what you want, whatever you want."

"I want… I—" He wriggled a bit, reaching for my hip with his left hand and trying to pull me closer. "I can't— Please."

I couldn't hold back a smile. "You want to come?"

"Nnnnghyessss. Please, I just—"

"I got it. But one more question," I added after another quick kiss, "do you want my hand as well, or just this?" I asked, grinding harder into him, which earned me a delicious moan.

"Y— You… inside me. And your hand too. It won't take long but I— Please."

It didn't take long indeed. He came with a long whine after I stroked him a few times, his back arching off the mattress again, tightening almost unbearably around me. I slowed down gradually, so he wouldn't immediately be aware of it, and just watched him relax and seemingly sink into the mattress, looking up at the ceiling and smiling. And then he turned that happy, lazy smile towards me, but it was quickly replaced by a frown when I pulled out.

"What? B— But, you didn't—"

"Shhh," I replied, running one hand up and down his inner thigh. "This isn't about me, it's about you. I'll take care of it—"

"Show me," he said, his voice suddenly sounding stronger.

"Huh?"

He smiled. "I want to see. I mean, I would like—"

"You want to watch me jack off?"

He smiled again, swinging one of his legs around me, straightening them out to the side and patting his thigh.

"You really want to do this?"

"Come on."

I obliged — oh how could I not? — and took both condoms off, wrapped them up in a tissue, tossed them aside, and straddled his thighs. In an instant, his good hand was on one of my legs, slowly moving from the middle of the thigh up towards my hipbone. And his lovely face, already flushed from everything that had happened so far, turned half a shade darker.

"Like what you see?" I asked, grabbing that hand and moving it further up to my stomach.

I tried not to shiver when he spread his fingers and stroked the skin there, but then he moved his hand down when I let go and wrapped it around me, and I couldn't stay silent.

"Oh, God… Ngh… You don't… have to—"

"It's my left hand, and I'm really hopeless with it so it probably won't be any good, but please…"

"You know there's no way I'd tell you to stop anything that you want to do. Hell, you could tease me all afternoon and I wouldn't complain. Although, I really would prefer you didn't," I added very quickly.

He smiled at me — a slightly mischievous version of his usual smile — and started moving his hand. Nice and slow and tight and perfect. No matter what he'd said, left hand or not, it was just what I needed and I couldn't stop my hips from rolling, but I hoped it wasn't going to work too quickly so I could keep enjoying the feel of his hand on me.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered after a while, and that made me freeze on the spot.

"Wh—"

"You are. Beautiful. So beautiful…"

"What are you talking about?"

"You keep telling me that I am, and I still think that means there's something wrong with your head, but you… You really are. Beautiful. You're like… I know it's cheesy, but you're like the sun. Beautiful and bright and warm. With everybody gravitating around you, unable to resist that force that pulls them towards you. And, for some unknown, crazy reason, the one you want—"

"Is you," I assented. "So what does that make you, if I'm the sun?"

He gave a little shrug. "I… don't know, I'm getting lost in my own metaphor, I think."

"You know it's been over three months now."

"I know. But sometimes I still have trouble believing it."

"Well I'm going to have to make sure I do something about that," I said, wrapping my hand around his to increase the pressure, and leaning over so I could kiss him.

I didn't last long, not after all that talk about me being beautiful, like the sun and all that. I tried to make sure to keep the mess away from his clothes, but some of it dribbled onto his stomach anyway, and I couldn't stop my eyes from opening wide when he reached for it. And after wiping it off with his index finger, he put that finger in his mouth and sucked it dry.

I groaned and shut my eyes.

"It's not any different from when I—"

"I know, I know. Just… Shit, Michael, give me some warning next time."

"But then I wouldn't get to see that lovely expression of yours when I do something unexpected…"

I groaned again. "OK, you win… Stay here while I go clean up and grab a towel."

I wasn't gone for long; just enough time to wash my hands, grab said towel from the cupboard and take a detour to the kitchen for something to drink. But he was clearly more exhausted that he was letting on because he'd managed to doze off by the time I came back. What a lovely sight it was, to have him half-naked and so completely relaxed on my bed. He didn't even flinch when I wiped his stomach clean and then folded my duvet back over him so he wouldn't get cold.

I stood by the side of the bed and leaned over to plant a soft kiss on his forehead, partially to check for any reaction. And then, when I was sure he wasn't pretending, I moved my lips to his ear to whisper a quick: "I love you."

 

*

 

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