I ran from his home, ran from him, tears clouding my vision as I stormed away. I took a moment, breathing deeply, feeling my heart bounce against my rib cage. Others around me crossed me with concerned looks.
I gathered myself together and continued my fast pace home. I race through the bar, ignoring mum's call about how my exam went, take the stairs two at a time, rush into the bathroom, and keel over the toilet bowl.
I gag numerous times, feeling my stomach rising to my throat, the bile burning as it tries to vacate my body.
A few minutes later, I had locked the bathroom door and was leaning against it, my arms wrapped around my knees as I sobbed out my soul.
After the twelfth text from John Paul, I'd switched my phone off. The echoes of footsteps on the stairs were a background noise to me as I cried so hard I thought might have to throw up again.
The knock on the door vibrated through my back as said my name, "Craig? Craig, you in there? Craig, please, we need to talk."
I sniffled, not moving from his uncomfortable spot, yet raised my head and rubbed at my eyes harshly, wiping away my tears.
"I'm not leaving Craig, not until you tell me what's going on with you?"
I could hear him rest himself against the other side of the door and sigh.
I got to my feet, moved to the sink and ran the cold tap. Splashing my face a numerous times and washing my tear-stained eyes, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
I made a quick decision, fighting against the screaming in the head to stay hidden in the small room forever, I grabbed the towel, dried my face, and moved to the door.
Steadying my breath, I unlocked the door slowly, and heard the John Paul clamber to his feet.
Opening the door, I couldn't fight the burst of happiness that flooded my system at the sight of him before me. All these feelings, feelings that I had been fighting for months, were so unexpected and delirious. I smiled shyly, taking in the sight of him, in jeans and a hoody, and we just stared at each other.
It took a few moments for me to utter the single word, "Tea?"
He nodded his acceptance and followed me into the kitchen, sitting himself at the dinner table. I distracted myself with the tea-making process as he whittled on about how mum had let him come up, and that he had ignored his mother who had returned after I had disappeared on him.
As I poured the milk, he had suddenly become interested in the sleeves of his jumper. Sitting across from him, I handed him the steaming mug. He accepted it, blowing on it before taking a sip. I was entranced in the swirling motion of the liquid in my own mug as he rested his hand on my arm.
"Craig… please, please just talk to me… tell me what you're thinking, tell me anything, just talk to me, please," He asked me intensely, making my heart swell to breaking point.
I had the point of not objecting to his touching me, I wanted to see how it felt, wanted to know if it really was what I wanted and not just some jealous anger towards Spike.
"John Paul, I'm sorry for what I said before I left. I really didn't mean it, I just… in that moment, my whole life was crumbling before me and I needed to lash out at someone, and it just so happened to be you," I said, looking deep into my cup.
"Truth be told, it still feels as if my world is crumbling before me, cause I'm such a mess."
"Why does it Craig? Does being with me really seem like the end of the world to you? Would it really be that bad, eh?" John Paul asked me pointedly, staring so hard I could feel the strength of it deep into my very being.
"I'm not gay, John Paul, I'm not supposed to fall for a bloke, my best mate!" I implored him to understand, to even contemplate this.
"Craig, you came to my house, kissed me, led me to my own room and then begged me to fuck you… if that doesn't make you gay, I dunno what does!"
I cringed at his words, taking the time to drink my now lukewarm tea, trying to formulate some sort of wording so as to make him understand what exactly is going on.
"I'm not gay," I started, to which he rolled his eyes, "hear me out, alright? I'm not gay. I like women, I love Sarah… but I just can't stop thinking about you, I can't. You're all I can think about, all I ever think about. I've not been sleeping trying to deal with these thoughts… it's been driving me insane. So, I made a decision. I went to you today. And now I don't know what I am… I'm so lost in myself… "
I failed to finish, because the tears started to build in my eyes. He vacated his seat and kneeled down beside mine, forcing me to look at him through blurred vision. One hand rested on my leg, the other cupped my cheek (which I found myself leaning into, enjoying the warmth) as he started to talk.
"Craig, you should've said something. You know how hard it was for me when I first came out, when I got these feelings for you; you know I would've helped you in a heartbeat. But you need to talk to me, cause I'm not a mind-re," he said, but I cut him off as I crashed my lips to his, my arms entwining around his neck.
I stumbled from my chair into him, the two of us spiralling to the floor. I sat atop of him, my lips firmly latched to his as I took my new found bravery to new heights and ran my hand under his hoody and t-shirt, feeling his pale skin beneath my fingers tense and dance to my touch.
I removed my hands to aid my removing of his top, tossing it far into living area. I pulled back for a moment; working my own jumper of my body and tossing it to the side were it soon joined John Paul's. He was breathless, watching my every move as I straddled him. As soon as I had left his sweet lips, I was kissing him again, harder, waiting for him to open his mouth
Our kiss was fast paced, electrifying experience, as our tongues fought for the lead in the kiss. After a few minutes, I got to my feet and pulled John Paul with me. I crashed my mouth to his for the third time and guided him to my bedroom, slamming the door firmly shut behind us. Blocking the door with a chair, I gently shoved him backwards onto my bed and looked at him, took in the sight of him.
But I couldn't be parted from him for long. I lounged at his side, one hand in his soft hair, the other stroking and teasing his nipples through his t-shirt. I removed my vest and he took the advantage, rolling me onto my back as he rested his body above mine.
He practically ripped his t-shirt from his body and launched his mouth at mine, our kiss all teeth and tongues.
I ran my hands through his hair as he made light work of my belt and buttons on my jeans, his hand diving into my underwear, grasping my hard cock firmly.
I groaned into his mouth as he began to slowly pump my dick, running his thumb over my wet head. I ran my hands down his back, delving beneath the waist line of his jeans and boxers, grasping his arse cheeks tightly in my hands.
He quickly pulled back, shimmying down my legs to the bottom of my bed as I whimpered in withdrawal of his touch. Only when John Paul gripped the bottom of my jeans, tugging at them did I realise what he wanted to do. I elevated my arse, and my jeans were soon gone, as were my socks. John Paul kicked off his own trainers, removed his jeans and was on me within the blink of an eye, his hardness resting against my own as I craned my neck to allow him greater access to my overly-sensitive neck.
He moved across my chest, teasing one of excited nipples with his tongue while he uses his hand to tweak the other. He kisses a path down my chest, his tongue delving into my navel, eliciting a loud moan of want.
I grabbed at the elastic of his boxers and dragged down his legs, John Paul kicking them off his feet. I rolled him onto his back, placing light kisses to his mouth, his cheek, his neck, crawling down his body until his dick was pointing towards my face.
It was the first time I'd seen another man's hardness, besides my own, and it wasn't as terrifying as I'd imagined. It was actually quite nice…
"God, you're beautiful," I whispered, kissing the head of his cock, before stroking up and down on him. His breath hitched, which I took as a good sign. I looked up at him – his eyes were closed, his breathing ragged, and his chest was rising falling in quick succession to an unending of beats as his heart danced inside his chest.
I slowly lowered my mouth, enveloping him, feeling his thickness grow even harder in my hand. He thrashed at the feeling. I tried to lower my mouth further, but gagged, and stopped. I retreated to the head, lavishly swiping my tongue at his sensitive glands, before reaching to my bed side table and grabbing the foil wrap.
He couldn't take my actions for a second longer as he pulled my mouth back to his, his kiss causing my lips to ache with need.
"Stand up Craig," he instructed hoarsely, as he moved down my bed, sitting on the edge before. He grabbed the condom from my hand, ripped the container open and rolled the latex down as I fought the urge to cum.
"I'll be back in a second," he whispered, leaving me to stroke my hardness slowly to ease the tension of the lust that I could feel growing, excelling any other emotion I had ever felt.
He returned soon, returning my chair to the door, wedging it shut, before launching himself on my bed with what I could only assume was Vaseline in his hand. He oiled his hands, rubbing them on my near-exploding cock, giving a few too many strokes before giving me the tub.
I looked at him unsurely for a moment, but the look he gave sent shivers to my hardness and I quickly wet one finger. He laid down, his legs parted, to aid my search for his crease.
Finding it, I circled it numerous time, enjoying the gasps that escaped that beautiful mouth before taking the plunge, literally, with my finger.
It slid in deep and fast, rubbing against his sweet spot, his own swollen member now spouting pre-cum like a river. After a while, I added a second, then a third, pushing them in and out. I only stopped when he told me he was ready.
I circled my dick around his opening before gently pressing into him, his body opening to accept my pressure. The tightness, the warmth of his body surrounding me… it overwhelmed me and I cried out in joy. He moaned in pain and pleasure, his arms reaching to my neck as my lips fell to his.
"John Paul… god… you feel so good!" I ground out, withdrawing myself painstakingly slowly.
"I've dreamt of this Craig, for so long… God, I love you," he panted, as our bodies moved in motion, our lips brushing for kiss after kiss.
All too soon I felt the pull of my orgasm, but my warnings fell on deaf ears as John Paul spilled his heat all across our stomachs. I cried out ecstatically, filling the condom as the pleasure wrapped my brain in a duvet, numbing my senses from anything other than John Paul.
As my crescendo ended, I collapsed to his chest, our breaths mingling as we fought for control of our systems.
I kissed his cheek; his forehead; his nose and his lips, whispering endearments as exhaustion brought us to slumber.
As the world fell away, he kissed me below my ear as he dragged my discarded quilt across our bodies, "I love you Craig Dean,"
I fell asleep with a smile of contentment as my heart returned the sentiment.