The door to the Dog in the Pond opened as three friends made their way from the pub. Sarah held on tightly to the arm of her boyfriend as her pretty blonde friend trailed behind.
"So, we going to the loft?" Craig asked hopefully.
"Maybe we can wait for a minute," Hannah replied looking back towards the pub. Craig and Sarah both tried to stifle their sighs. As much as they loved their good friend her constant obsession with John Paul McQueen, her one time boyfriend, was starting to wear a bit thin. The guy was gay and it really was time Hannah came to terms with the fact.
"Oh he'll find us," Sarah reasoned as she squeezed tightly onto Craig's arm.
Hannah looked at her best friend and realised, once again, that she was only in the way. When Sarah was with Craig she had little time for anyone else. When Hannah had been dating John Paul things were different. It had been the four of them and everything had been perfect. But that all changed the day John Paul admitted he was gay and Hannah had been left out in the cold.
"Actually, you know what… I'm tired… you go…" Hannah's words died on her lips as a movement on the small wooden bridge caught her eye. In an instant Hannah felt her heart torn out as she watched John Paul, the beautiful blonde man she was still unable to get over, in a tight embrace with Spike, the annoyingly smug dark haired DJ.
With a small whimper of pain Hannah turned and ran back into the pub. Following her eye line Sarah spotted the cause of her friends anguish and quickly followed her.
Craig was left standing in the doorway of his families pub watching his best friend in the arms of a man he, quite frankly, didn't much like.
Spike's kiss was firm and hot as it pressed against John Paul's mouth and with each passing second the man pulled him closer until their bodies were melded together.
John Paul's experience was limited and with other men it was virtually non-existent. But Spike had a confidence that he found intoxicating and, the harder Spike kissed him the more John Paul wanted it. John Paul's lips parted as Spike's tongue pushed its way inside the heat of his mouth, exploring and tasting every inch until John Paul's body trembled with a pent up desire.
Craig stood motionless, hardly blinking, hardly breathing. He knew he shouldn't be watching what was happening on the bridge but at the same time he felt unable to look away. A feeling raged through his stomach and he tried to tell him it was nausea at seeing his best friend in such a clinch, but he wasn't convinced that he was telling himself the truth. There was another feeling running deeper than that and if Craig had taken the time to think about it he would have know its name. That feeling was jealousy.
John Paul was left panting and flushed as Spike pulled away from their kiss and he instantly missed the feeling of Spike's lips against his, the taste of Spike's tongue in his mouth. Something niggled at the corner of John Paul's mind urging him to look towards the pub and as he did he saw the dark figure of Craig Dean standing there, watching him.
Craig Dean, the first man John Paul had fallen in love with. His best friend. The man who had said he loved him and then hated him. The man who had kissed him and then punched him. The man who made John Paul's heart race simply by entering a room and made it break by leaving again. Craig Dean, the man who could only ever be John Paul's friend.
"Craig…" John Paul spoke the name quietly and took a step forwards but Spike caught hold of his arm.
Realising he had been spotted Craig turned and raced from the pub. For a second he thought that John Paul was going to follow him but instead he remained with Spike and that unnamed feeling rose inside Craig once more.
"Let him go," Spike said gently.
"But he…" There had been something about the look in Craig's eyes that concerned John Paul.
"Look," Spike reasoned, "It takes time… for mates to get used to you being gay… and seeing you snogging another guy… well it's gonna be a bit weird for him…"
"I suppose," John Paul agreed, his words more convinced than his heart. It hadn't just been discomfort at seeing his friend with another man that John Paul had seen in the darkness of Craig's eyes. There had been something else, he just wasn't sure what.
Craig lay back on his bed staring at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes he could see John Paul in a passionate embrace with that dark haired DJ and every time he recalled that image it made him feel even more uncomfortable.
Craig sighed; he was being ridiculous he knew that. John Paul was gay, he knew that. John Paul would naturally find a boyfriend, Craig even knew that. What Craig didn't know, or at least what he hadn't known, was how he was going to feel about that fact.
John Paul had once confessed his love for Craig, they had even shared a drunken kiss and now, it seemed, all of that love had been relocated to a man Craig hardly knew. A man John Paul hardly knew. What kind of a name was Spike anyway? What kind of a man was he?
Craig rubbed his hands over his face and closed his eyes. The very second he did the image of John Paul filled his mind again, but this time it wasn't Spike that was being held in the blonde man's arms.
John Paul lay back on his bed staring at the ceiling. It had been a strange night and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Getting back Craig's friendship had felt so good and he had tried his hardest to accept that it was only friendship on offer, tried to convince himself that friendship was enough.
Spike had been a wonderful distraction from Craig. His dark mysterious eyes and strong, confident manner had quickly won John Paul over. The man seemed to ooze sex appeal and John Paul hadn't been immune to his charms.
When Spike had grabbed him and kissed him on the bridge it had made John Paul's heart race with excitement. Kissing Spike felt so good, so natural and right and his body had reacted most favourably.
Realising that Craig had seen the kiss made John Paul feel awkward and it wasn't just that his best friend had seen him snogging another man as Spike had assumed. As crazy as it sounded John Paul felt guilty that Craig had seen him with Spike, he had felt as if he had been caught cheating on Craig.
John Paul laughed to himself and closed his eyes. A beautiful dark haired man filled his mind. But it wasn't Spike.
As hard as he tried Craig couldn't shake the picture of John Paul from his mind. Two piercing blue eyes looked at him intently and, unlike any other eyes Craig had ever known, these ones saw him, really saw him. They saw every weakness and every strength in him and they loved him despite those things, because of those things.
Craig heard a small whimper and it took a second to realise the sound had come from his throat. He bit his lip nervously and in doing so he imagined he could feel the pressure of warm lips against his. Soft lips that kissed him tenderly and with love. Hot lips that kissed his with desire and passion. Strong lips that kissed him with need and urgency. John Paul's lips.
Craig's eyes sprung open but the image wouldn't go away. As he stared into the semi darkness of the room Craig could still see John Paul's face and he could still feel his kiss. Craig swallowed heavily as he tried to understand the emotions raging through him but there was no understanding to be found.
To admit he felt jealousy over Spike would mean admitting so much more. To admit he hadn't been able to stop thinking about kissing John Paul and holding John Paul for the last two hours would suggest something unthinkable. And to admit that the growing hardness in his jeans was solely the result of thinking about John Paul, well that really was something that Craig couldn't face.
John Paul tried desperately to picture Spike's face but the man's features kept on blurring and distorting until they became the ever so familiar visage that he had dreamed about so often.
Those two dark eyes with the unfathomably long lashes that always seemed to look deeper into him than anyone else's ever had. That soft smile that would illuminate the beautiful face as it broke into a rich laugh.
That man. That infuriating man that drove John Paul to distraction. That man that annoyed him, confused him, amused him, puzzled him and made him feel truly alive.
"Oh Craig," John Paul breathed into the stillness of his room.
Why had he fallen for the one man he couldn't have? Why had he fallen for his best friend? Why the hell had he fallen in love with Craig Dean?
John Paul sighed as he remembered, for the millionth time, that all too brief kiss they had shared in the school gym. For one moment in time John Paul had felt complete. Craig's lips pressing against his only seconds after Craig had told him that he loved him and felt like heaven. Craig's hands shoving him away and Craig's face twisted with disgust had been total hell.
But that was all behind them now. They were friends again, just friends, nothing more. John Paul had Spike and he knew that this was a relationship that would be easy, comfortable and fun.
But it wasn't Craig. And as hard as John Paul tried to convince himself otherwise he was still very much in love with that gorgeous young man.
A soft moan echoed through Craig's bedroom. It sounded like a combination of a terrible pain and an immense pleasure and in many ways that is exactly what it was.
Craig had tried to stop thinking about John Paul. He had tried not to imagine the feel of his lips pressing hot and hungry against his mouth. He had tried to ignore the thought of John Paul's tongue pushing into his mouth and possessing him completely. He had tried to shake away the idea of John Paul's warm hand slipping into his jeans and stroking gently at the firmness nestled there.
Craig had tried, and he had failed.
Every inch of his consciousness was consumed with John Paul and with an overwhelming need to touch him, to taste him, to hold him and to be held by him.
As the thoughts raced through Craig's mind, and vibrated through his body, his own hand wandered unbidden to his aching groin and touched him in the way John Paul was doing in his head.
Craig's mind was filled with the vivid images of John Paul and he finally gave in to the fantasy and let it envelope him.
John Paul paced his room with frustration. He had finally met a lovely guy who seemed to be genuinely interested in him, and lets face it was damn hot, and all he could think about was Craig.
Even though he had kissed Spike just a couple of hours ago it was the feeling of Craig's lips that John Paul remembered. It was the feeling of Craig's mouth that John Paul wanted. And it was the feeling of Craig's body that John Paul craved.
Falling back onto his bed John Paul let out a pitiful sigh. He had to admit the truth, at least to himself. Craig was always going to be in his head. Craig was always going to be the first person he thought of in the morning and the last person he thought of as he fell asleep at night. Craig was always going to be the one who dominated his waking hours and crept deliciously into his dreams.
And it was the thoughts of Craig that were making his jeans uncomfortably tight, his heart race and his breathing heavy and laboured. Just like it was Craig's hand he pictured unfastening his jeans and slipping hotly inside to caress the growing ache hidden there.
John Paul's mouth pressed hard against Craig's eager lips, their tongue battling for domination inside the heat of their mouths as clothing was torn from desperate flesh.
Hands roamed over every inch of bare flesh, touching, stroking, teasing, until both men were panting with the overwhelming need for each other.
"John Paul," the name came from Craig's lips in a broken whimper as strong fingers curled around the throbbing of his cock.
"God Craig…" John Paul breathed as Craig's hand gripped his erection firmly making him moan with pleasure.
Craig arched his back as the heat of John Paul's hand moved over his cock, stroking its length before pausing to tease over its head with a slow circular pass of his thumb.
John Paul held his breath as Craig grip tightened, pulling back his foreskin to reveal the smooth pink head beneath, already glistening with droplets of precum as the hand eased back along his length.
Craig's fingers curled into his bedclothes as John Paul's hand moved faster over his cock. Stimulating him in a way no other person had ever managed. Making every inch of his body ache and his cock throb with the need for a release, with the need for John Paul.
John Paul's head pressed deeply into his pillow as his body shook with the pleasure of Craig's hand on his cock, touching him, stroking him and wanting him. He moaned loudly, trying to stifle the sound, as the feeling of Craig sent his body into spasms of absolute pleasure.
Craig threw his arm across his face, biting down on it to stop his cries as his cock pulsed hotly in the strong hand that held it and his body convulsed with the intensity of the climax that ripped through it.
John Paul's body shook violently as his orgasm shuddered through his flesh pouring from his throbbing cock in a heated tribute to his desires for Craig.
It was two o'clock in the morning and in separate beds, in separate homes two young men shared similar thoughts.
Lying panting on their beds, their bellies covered with hot semen, they both knew that they had to see each other, they had to talk and they had to sort out what they were feeling.
What they didn't know was that they were both thinking the same. What they didn't know was that they were both feeling the same. And what they didn't know was what exactly they should do next.