Hello there dear readers,

title: The Truth
author's notes: THIS FICTION'S RATING HAS BEEN RAISED TO AN M (for you, sensatsushinobi!). So you can deduce that this chapter is quite smutty :P Also, as a warning, I am female. So, never having experienced a male orgasm, I improvised based on my own female experience. ;)

Enjoy!


Very Good


Manfred left the words hanging, and Charlie felt his stomach flip briefly. The slow, keen path his cousin's orbs were making down his partially-covered body left the younger boy in no doubt as to exactly what Manfred had in mind. He tried hard not to blush at the passionate gaze, but when the head boy rolled over to pin him to the bed Charlie flushed hotly and wriggled under the extra weight.

Gripping Charlie's wrists, Manfred brought the younger boy's hands up either side of his head before kissing him deeply. The human restraints reminded Charlie of the first time he had met his cousin, on a cold, dark day with sleet pouring down; Manfred had grabbed his wrists then as now, and Charlie had been scared of him. The memory of the fear only seemed to heighten his senses though, to remind him of how far they had come. He panted when the kiss broke, surprised to find himself already short of breath.

Trying something new, Manfred licked along Charlie's lower lip before nipping at it. Charlie inhaled sharply, flexed his fingers, whimpered. Eyelashes flickering, Charlie looked into Manfred's eyes with thinly veiled lust and remembered the sense of drowning he had experienced when Manfred had hypnotised him that once, more than a year ago. He almost lost himself again, but then the older boy's tongue was in his mouth and he made a noise in the back of his throat, surging up to meet the invasion with sufficient fervour to make Manfred moan appreciatively.

Their breathing was laboured when Manfred pulled back, letting Charlie's hands go in favour of unbuttoning the blue-striped top as he had tried to do that morning. Charlie moved to help him and so Manfred sat up, leaving the younger boy to sort his clothes out as he ripped at his own silk top. Both items were soon discarded.

Manfred slipped lower down his cousin, pressed Charlie's hands into the mattress again as he licked a stripe up the trembling chest beneath him. Charlie could feel his heart beating in an erratic manner almost frightening in its strength; he couldn't remember ever having these physical symptoms before, not even when terror had struck, and he wondered, briefly, if his body could cope. Then a heated breath fanned his right nipple and his mind was jerked elsewhere.

Every now and again Charlie would emit small, wordless noises without meaning to, causing Manfred's fingers to twitch against his own and the head boy's breath to hitch.

Nipples thoroughly teased to hardness, Charlie felt Manfred's tongue move lower, down to his stomach, around his belly button. A particularly violent throb from his nether-regions reminded Charlie that his arousal was hard-pressed to develop any further and he half-moaned, arching up against his cousin impatiently. Despite this, Charlie was apprehensive about what was to come next; how far was Manfred intending on going? Did men really have sex how he'd heard they did? What did an orgasm feel like?

The head boy's thumbs stroked over Charlie's wrists infuriatingly lightly before his hands withdrew altogether, leaving the sensitive skin tingling, and ran down the younger boy's sides to hook under the trouser fabric and tug. Charlie shifted his hips up to aid his disrobement, his need overcoming his embarrassment; he knew that, due to his age, he would be a lot smaller in that particular department than his partner. But Manfred made no comment.

Heart still beating ridiculously fast, Charlie found that the amount of blood rushing around his body was making his head go funny. He felt dizzy, although he was lying down, and disorientated.

Manfred's tongue had moved to the place that needed it most now and a wave of something washed through Charlie. He was incapable of speech or even, really, coherent thought as his hips bucked up unbidden and his toes clenched. Charlie's eyes were already closed, breath coming in short, audible gasps, and his muscles were clenching and unclenching without his command. Focusing on the pleasure, he was barely aware of the world around him, but then his member was completely encased in a tight, wet heat and he let himself go completely.

For a split second he felt as if he was falling; that thrill of a feeling that seems both to be in your stomach and your mind to warn you of a loss of control. And then he was back, mind still mixed-up, and aware that his hips had jerked up, that he was ejaculating, that his mouth was open but his breath was held.

With these realisations his hips fell back down onto the mattress and he exhaled simultaneously. A shaky breath in, as much air as he could whilst his heart was still trying to ram a hole in his chest, and then he was gasping again. And shivering, like a flag caught in a storm.

The world came flooding back when he opened his eyes and with it a cold kind of euphoria that made him want to grin and laugh and laugh. But with the reality of the room in darkness came the reminder of the warmth pressed against his side, the hand stroking down his quivering chest, and his mirth fled to be replaced with a guilty concern. Still out of breath, Charlie forced himself to turn onto his left side, look up at Manfred with searching eyes.

'Y-you-' he tried to say, but gave up. He glanced pointedly down at his cousin's pyjama bottoms instead, stretched around the bulge at the front. Manfred eyed him silently, waiting for him to make the first move - and this surprised Charlie, because it showed a willingness to go unattended if Charlie chose to ignore the need. But it was a firm policy drummed into the Bone boy by his mother to return a favour, and the thought of not aiding Manfred never seriously crossed Charlie's mind.

Recovered enough now to move, Charlie reached out a shivering hand to touch Manfred's bare shoulder, running it down past his collarbone to rest on his chest. A thin line of dark hair started directly below this point, creating a straight line that disappeared, tantalisingly, under the elasticated silk waist-band. As Charlie traced it he was aware that Manfred's coal-black stare remained fixed on his face, the intensity making his cheeks heat up again. Wishing to stay in control, Charlie bit his lip.

Manfred made a noise that was a mixture of a whimper and a growl at that, and then Charlie found himself pushed onto his back again, Manfred rubbing fiercely against him. Winded due to the added weight, Charlie struggled for breath, his hands moving onto Manfred's back and into the black hair, still loosely tied. He wriggled under the writhing mass above him, unsure how he was supposed to help when he was almost immobile below, but this movement made the head boy growl again, bury his face deeper into the crook of Charlie's neck and left shoulder.

Charlie could feel his cousin's heated breath against his pulse-point and it allowed him to determine the head boy's heart-rate whilst also serving to increase his own, if marginally. So when he arched up into the slow grinding and Manfred moaned, pressed harder and gave an involuntary thrust, Charlie could feel the older boy's heartbeat quicken.

Although he remembered the disgruntled reaction to this earlier, Charlie nevertheless couldn't resist pulling at the purple hair tie and freeing the shoulder-length black hair. Manfred appeared to be too far gone to even realise, so Charlie grinned and ran a hand through the locks, then fisted his fingers in the strands as Manfred bit at his neck with unexpected force. The hooded black eyes rose to give Charlie an annoyed glare; apparently Manfred wasn't as oblivious as Charlie had first thought.

Charlie closed his eyes to avoid the stare and pulled Manfred down for an apologetic kiss, felt the head boy reluctantly relax against his tongue's administrations. Then Manfred's face pressed itself against Charlie's neck again as he shifted up to pull his own pyjama bottoms down and take himself in hand. For a moment Charlie felt disappointed and spurned by this, but he soon realised that he wouldn't have had much of an idea as to what to do; best that Manfred, who was clearly desperate, sort himself out for now.

Lying uselessly underneath his masturbating cousin, Charlie briefly considered how he felt. His orgasm had left him a bit tired, and it was weird to think that Manfred was still aroused; but the scorching breath on his neck and the frantic, fervid thrusting left him in no doubt of this. It was too real to be anything but, but Charlie couldn't help thinking that the situation was surreal. He ran his hands over Manfred's back, revelling in the feel of the subtle muscles rippling, the skin burning up under his fingertips.

And then Manfred muffled a cry against Charlie's skin and he reached his climax, hips jerking involuntarily a few more times. He collapsed on Charlie completely, and the younger boy felt a warm, sticky mixture smear his chest. They lay, listening to the sound of their breathing, for some time. Then Manfred gave a low moan and rolled off of Charlie, standing shakily beside the bed.

Charlie was surprised at how light he felt without Manfred on top of him; he'd begun to get used to the head boy's weight. Then the soft footfalls padded back over to him and a couple of white tissues landed on his chest. Glancing at his cousin, Charlie realised that he was supposed to clean himself with the material, and so pushed himself into a half-sitting position and wiped away the white liquid from his chest; Manfred's. His own member was surprisingly free from any mess.

Manfred laughed breathlessly as he saw Charlie looking curiously at his already-clean penis. 'Silly,' he managed, still short of breath; 'I already…cleaned that.' He took Charlie's tissues from him and shuffled over to his desk again, throwing the used material into the bin there.

Charlie flushed as he realised what Manfred meant; he must have swallowed Charlie's sperm and licked the younger boy clean whilst Charlie was still too disorientated to really notice. Then Charlie had kissed him; did that mean he'd tasted himself without knowing it? Everything had been too heady and lust-driven at the time to stop and think.

A draft of cold air ghosted across Charlie's bare arm and chest, and the younger boy realised that the window had just been opened. The cold, fresh air contrasted greatly with that inside that room, and Charlie noticed how much the air around him smelt of sex; musky and hormone-ridden. Biting his lip again, but gently this time, Charlie pulled his pyjama bottoms up and retrieved his top, although he left it unbuttoned as he was still warm.

Manfred left the window open a notch as he returned to the bed and left his pyjama top on the floor. Charlie had shifted up to provide space for him, so it was easy for the older boy to sink onto the mattress and lie down. Leaving the sheets bunched up at the bottom of the bed, too hot still to be covered, Manfred turned on his side to lazily regard Charlie.

'Well?' He asked, smirking. Charlie tilted his head questioningly so Manfred elaborated; 'Was it a good idea, what I had in mind?'

Charlie snorted softly and smiled at his cousin. 'Very good,' he agreed shyly. Then he yawned.

'Yes,' Manfred decided. 'I'm tired too.' He shuffled closer, pressed himself up against Charlie's side again and wrapped and arm around his chest.

Charlie shifted a little, then fell still, comfortable. But he couldn't resist murmuring, 'I'm not going to wreck your room, you know.'

'I know,' Manfred chuckled, but his arm stayed where it was.


End of Chapter Twelve!

Right people;
First of all: Yay! I wrote an M rated chapter for these two! Quite an achievement, I believe.
Secondly: I feel like I've come to a bit of a dead end here. I can't see where this story is going or where it could end. I mean, technically I could end it here, leaving the loose threads - such as how they manage to keep their relationship hidden or whatever happened to Manfred's three more punishments (!) - up to your imagination.
Metaphorically I have just ridden a ride at a themepark, and it has reached the end. I have the choice of getting off and trying a new ride (a new story), going home (focusing on my studies) or paying (in time and effort) and taking the ride again (continuing with this fiction).
The problem with riding again is that the scenery is the same. The ride is the same. The story is the same. It'll have different things in the chapters, obviously, but I'll feel as if I'm just travelling in circles. Charlie lying to his friends. Sleeping with Manfred. Struggling with his thoughts. Lying to his friends. Sleeping with...well you get the picture, yes? There's only so much I can do with a fiction of this type, and there is much less enjoyment in it for me.
So I'd like your thoughts on this.
Chances are if I continue then I'll write the chapters slower, or at least more erratically. I won't be able to promise fast releases (er, no smutty pun intended there, sorry)!

Anyway please review! It'd be great to hear what you think; did I keep them in character?

~WfCP x