Alfred was handsome and he knew it. He was tall, tanned and muscular, the hair on his legs was blond and curly and the smile on his lips bright. I know I should've gotten used to all this by then considering how we grew up together, had showered together at school and seen each other naked on plenty of occasions, but he still managed to thrill me whenever he took off his shirt and flexed his arms or stretched his fingertips deep into his boxers to fondle at his balls. He did it all so relaxed as if there was nothing to it but still, whenever he complained about the heat and stripped down in front of me, he eyed me with such an intense stare that I couldn't do anything but to believe he knew I was watching and that he wanted just that of me. That he made sure our bottle of lube was always within reach when making out in bed didn't lower my suspicion. Alfred was just as horny as me but he just didn't have the guts to say it out loud. For two days we suffered in silence as we kissed, fondled and slowly jerked each other off waiting for the other to suggest the next move. But then it all became too much for Alfred to handle.
The heat was horrible and I showered twice a day not to reek like Alfred who stubbornly let the sweat-patches underneath his arms be while playing video-games in his room. It was too warm to do anything active and instead we'd opened his window and stripped down to boxers and tees while playing on his nintendo. I'd left him in the middle of a game to go wash the sweat off of my red face but as I returned minutes later I found the telly turned off and Alfred sitting fiddling with the bottle while reading the text on its backside. I stopped in the doorway to his room as I just watched him for a moment. I was in my white briefs and a grey undershirt borrowed from Alfred. The fabric was sticking to the thin layer of sweat which had formed on my back and it had started to itch, but I didn't move to scratch it until Alfred looked up and found me staring. He flustered lost hold of the bottle which dropped to the floor and rolled underneath the bed.
"Fuck.." Alfred scrambled onto all fours as he hurried to reach for it and I stepped in and locked the door behind me.
"What were you doing?" I asked.
His reply was quick: "Nothing!"
"Hmm..." I ran my fingers through my hair. My fringe had gotten a bit wet as I smashed a cloth to my forehead and I squeezed the locks for water while just waiting for Alfred to pop back up. He seemed to have troubles finding the bottle but then finally stood back up with it between his hands. He was dusting it off with a grimace.
"Gross."
"That'll teach you to clean. Seriously though, I thought you were about to win?" Alfred shrugged awkwardly and I eyed his groin. He too was only wearing a tee and some worn boxers, but though they were made out of a rather loose silky fabric, I could clearly see the bulge in them. He'd been touching himself but now he tried to awkwardly cover up by holding the lube in front of him while slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was still watching me. I glanced towards the open window and then walked over to sit down next to him. "Were you jerking off?" I asked as carelessly as possible while leaning a bit back.
"No."
"Yes you were." Alfred glanced at me and I smiled a little. I reached out for the bottle and he handed it to me. I turned it and watched the 'How to use' description without really reading it.
"Would you like to try it?" he asked and before I got to answer, he leaned in and pointed to a sentence: "Look. It says for vaginal and anal use."
"I know," I said a bit flustered. Alfred kept staring at me intensely as if he expected some sort of reaction from me but then finally he sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He grimaced as he shrugged:
"You know, we don't have to if you don't wanna. I just thought, I don't know, it would be nice. I mean, it is the next step, isn't it?"
"It's not that I don't want to," I quickly defended myself, "but you're the one who was all excited about getting lube and still you haven't suggested anything since we got it." I raised my brows at him. Alfred kept grimacing. Slowly his lips relaxed, though, and he looked away shyly.
"I didn't want to pressure you or anything," he assured.
I smiled wryly: "You're not. I am a guy, Al. I can say yes and no as well as you can."
"Yeah," he said and finally looked back at me and we both smiled at each other. His cheeks had darkened in colour and he seemed like an excited schoolboy rather than a boyfriend my age. He took the lube from my hands and looked at it again. I could tell he was carefully reading the descriptions over and over again, and I dragged my legs onto the bed and swung my arms around them while watching him.
It seemed somewhat funny to me that Alfred was so hesitant when it came to sex. He had always been the daredevil and the loudmouth who didn't seem to hold back with anything, but though he could be suggestive and horny, and though he sometimes whispered dirty things in my ear and touched me unprovoked, he was still very insecure about it all. It seemed like he wanted to do it right, and it had to be right in the first try. It made me wonder what kind of experiences he'd had with girls earlier. Did he pressure them too much or did they pressure him?
"Right," Alfred said suddenly and I snapped back to reality. I blinked at him as he straightened up. "Right. Alright. So should we, uh, should we do it?" he asked and waved with the bottle. "Should we try it out?" His dimples were showing as he was trying to hold back a smile and he looked like such a sweetheart sitting there nervously looking at me, and I found myself stuttering:
"Okay?" as he stood up and went to close the window. I bit my lower lip at the realisation of what I'd just agreed to and looked towards the door. We were alone in the house. Alfred's parents headed off on a picnic in the early morning; they'd invited us to come along but Alfred had said no before asking me first. I wrinkled my brows and swore underneath my breath as I remembered the sternness to his voice as he shook his head at them - he'd probably been planning this all day but had just waited for the right moment to suggest it.
Alfred slammed the window shut and pulled the curtains. The room darkened immediately. There were no lights on but still a dim, orange light fell in through the yellow fabric and left everything in a warm glow. I swallowed harshly and suddenly felt my lips go dry. It was as if my whole body warmed up at once and drops of sweat started forming on my forehead before travelling down my cheeks to drip off of my chin. As Alfred turned around to face me I felt my heartbeat quicken in pace and I caught myself being out of breath having to suck in air at once.
Looking back it wasn't very romantic, surely, but it was decided and there was no turning back. At the moment he started walking towards me I wasn't even thinking about what exactly was going to happen next, but I was just finding myself intrigued with his changing attitude as he slipped off his tee and dropped it to the floor and then stepped out of his boxers exposing himself fully. I eyed his cock dangling between his legs as I scooted back on the bed and peeled at my own shirt. "I'm not entirely sure how..." I mumbled but didn't finish my sentence. As he crawled onto bed with me, I smiled at him and pulled off my shirt. He pushed me so I was sitting with my back against the wall before he reached down and tugged at my briefs.
"I've seen some videos," he said and I nodded and lifted myself off of the bed so that he could pull them down.
"Okay." Somehow knowing that was enough for me at the time. I kicked off the underwear and shuddered lightly as Alfred grabbed around my dick. His big fingers felt rough on my skin and I sighed and closed my eyes.
"Will you be alright?" he asked me in a low voice. I spread my legs as he settled in between them and I couldn't hold back a snicker.
"Ask me when you're inside of me." I looked up into his eyes and was met by surprise. I flustered stuttered: "With your fingers I mean!" and he nodded relieved and rolled his eyes at himself.
"Right. With my fingers."
We embraced awkwardly. His skin was dirtier than mine as he hadn't showered since yesterday but I liked the smell of him. I buried my nose in the crook of his neck and he shook as a jolt went through his body. I felt up his back with my fingertips. His muscles seemed so strangely defined and as I realised he was tensing them, I tried nudging the tips of my fingers around his shoulder blades to make him relax. It seemed to work. He slowly slumped together between my arms and we dropped down onto the bed. It creaked underneath us and we held ours breaths, looked at each other and then started kissing. My fingers were in his hair. His were travelling up and down my sides as well as fondling my cock and I started sweating at the thought of what to do next. I hadn't seen the videos he'd seen and I didn't know what he expected of me. Was there a certain way to go around this or did it just happen? As a gay man I felt I should know these things, but I didn't. Even a supposedly confused guy such as Alfred knew and it made me feel kind of stupid. As I pulled back from the kiss to take in a deep breath, I blinked at him expectingly.
Alfred cleared his throat and searched behind his back for the bottle. I looked at his cock meanwhile. I hadn't touched it yet but still he'd managed to get partly hard. I was getting horny as well but it didn't show as much as I was feeling a bit anxious about it all. Alfred turned back to face me holding the lube, looked down between us and bit his lower lip.
"Are you okay?" he asked and I nodded a bit annoyed.
"I am just a bit nervous. Stop asking."
"Sorry..." We looked at each other. As seconds passed by without neither of us saying anything, I started blushing and felt it spread all over my collarbones. Finally I ripped the bottle from between his hands and peeled off the plastic keeping the lid tightly on top. "Will you tell me if it hurts?" he asked.
"Of course I will," I mumbled and popped the plastic lid off. "I am not a quiet... woman."
"It's not about being a woman," Alfred sighed. He grabbed at my chin and forced me to look up at him. "Arthur," he said with honest concern to his eyes and he paused. "It's just... kind of like loosing virginity."
I spluttered: "What?"
"Isn't it?" he asked dumbfounded. We both took in a shaken breath as we both considered the word and then started chuckling. "I-I mean," he grinned, "some girls consider fingering losing virginity and it's a big thing."
"Really?" I asked amazed but then just shook my head. I peeled at the duvet just to do something with my fingers. "No, I didn't even think of that. It's just because I am not sure what you expect of me."
Alfred shrugged: "I don't really expect anything but for you to, well, tell me if you like it or not."
"How do they do it in the videos?"
"That's porn though. That's different," Alfred said and though it sounded a bit rehearsed I still nodded. "But I know it's all about going slow. One finger at the time." I wanted to ask if I was really expected to take in more than one finger, but I shut up about it. Apparently it was obvious that I was going to. I looked at Alfred's big fingers wrapped around the bottle now as I let go of it and I pondered if even one could go in. It sent a strange thrill down my spine imagining it and I bit my inner cheek.
"I will let you know," I promised. "But how should I lie?"
"On your front," Alfred instructed assured of himself and I felt compelled to follow his authoritative voice. I slipped to lie on my stomach and tried making myself comfortable on my hardening cock. Alfred leaned in over me and shadowed the little light there was coming from the window. I wiped my sweaty face off in the pillowcase and blew out a mouthful of hot air. My heart was beating faster and the blood in me was rushing so strongly through my veins that I could hear it pulsating in my ears. I almost didn't catch what Alfred was saying at first as he settled between my legs again and gently felt up my buttocks: "Is this alright for you?"
He was so overly concerned that I almost felt like saying something sarcastic, but at the same time I felt embarrassingly exposed and I could only find it in me to utter a quiet: "Yes..." I nodded and rested my chin on my arms before trying to peek back at him. The sight was something I would never forget; between my legs this tall, big guy was sitting, the kind of brute that you would normally only see on the field playing with a ball or hanging out with the cheerleaders, but there he was fondling my buttocks with such an excited glimpse to his eyes that it almost made my heart hurt. I felt my cock throb at the sight and I had to look away with a gasp not to make myself too horny too soon. I was feeling thrilled and scared at the same time, but I tried to keep my anxiety away by reminding myself over and over again that Alfred would never purposely hurt me and that he was the most caring guy I knew. Still it was hard not to shake as he finally parted my cheeks and gave my hole a good, long look.
"Should I- uhm..." I licked my dry lips.
"No," Alfred answered knowing what I was about to ask. "You only just showered. It's fine."
"Yeah?" I could hear him rustle with the bottle behind me. I tried focusing on a spot in the pillow. A dirty stain from some chocolate had never been washed off properly and was standing out in the middle of the blue fabric. I stared at it until my eyes hurt and I had to blink. Something cold and slimy dripped down on my skin.
"Oops, sorry," Alfred mumbled. His fingertips stroked down my buttcrack as he tried collecting the lube and I shivered at the cold. It wasn't bad, but odd, especially as he tugged one of my buttocks to the side to rub against my hole. I tightened up by instinct and Alfred stopped. "Did I hurt you?"
I tried to grin: "No." My voice was a bit rusty. "No, it's fine. Just... very weird." He kept rubbing his fingertips across the entrance to lube it up and I started feeling my cock jerk at the touch. I sighed and buried my nose into the pillow. It was nice and I knew this was what it supposedly should feel like, but somehow I felt shy gaining anything from being touched. I didn't consider my asshole to be the least attractive and though I knew it was the only way for gays to really fuck each other, it still wasn't something I thought about as being erotic. That Alfred had found the thought of even licking it exciting was impossible for me to understand. Even now I tried just coming to terms with him touching me.
"I think I used too much lube," Alfred suddenly mumbled. I could feel it slipping further down and stick at the light hair of my balls and I squeezed my eyes tightly together.
"Is it gross?" I asked.
"Not really. Just wet. Hmm..." He rubbed something soft to my ass which I could only assume to be either the duvet or one of our shirts, and I buried my face deeper into the pillow as I muffled some swear words. It was almost demeaning being wiped in this way and if Alfred hadn't been quick to press a fingertip to my hole, I might've asked him to stop right there. Instead I jerked up in my upper-body and leaned onto my elbows as I sucked in air.
"Oh! Careful." Alfred didn't say anything. I looked back at him and found him staring concentrated at my hole. One hand was holding my left buttock aside while he was using his right to lube me up. He had used a whole lot. It was glistening on my skin, but as he tried pushing at me again, I supposed it was only good I was dripping a bit; less lube and it might've hurt horribly.
"I think you need to relax," he suggested carefully. He looked up and right into my eyes and blushed straight away. I licked my lips and quickly looked back down at the chocolate-spot on the pillow.
"Right..." I took in a deep breath and let it out again slowly. Then I closed my eyes, squeezed my hole and then relaxed. But it was difficult. Though I had no sense of time, I suppose it took at least a few minutes for me to properly calm down as I kept pushing Alfred back every time he pushed forward. But then it just happened. Of course I had prepared for it, but it still seemed sudden as he finally managed to wriggle the tip of his finger inside and push it in an inch. The feeling was indescribable, mostly because it wasn't as groundbreaking as I'd expected it to be. Somehow I had worked myself up for something really painful or really pleasurable, but I didn't feel stuffed or stretched or anything remotely like that. I just felt like a boy with half a finger inside my hole and I gasped and wriggled a little, and Alfred stopped and blabbered:
"Does it hurt, should I stop?"
"I don't know," I gasped and then shook my head. "No. No, you shouldn't."
"Really?" His voice sounded impressed and thrilled at the same time. I managed to look back and spot a smile on his lips as he pushed in further making me close my eyes and wrinkle my brows. He was stretching his finger and I could feel his nail sometimes bumping to a sore spot inside of me, but I didn't whimper or say anything to him. Though it was an odd feeling more than anything else, I didn't want for him to stop. It is hard to explain if you haven't been faced with the feeling before yourself, but it was something new to me which I just had to experience more of. The moment Alfred gained courage and started tugging out his finger again before wriggling it back in was when I started breathing more heavily.
"Ah, be careful," I moaned and Alfred immediately slowed down.
"Should I get some more lube?" I nodded and he withdrew his finger leaving me tightening my hole up. He popped some lube out and rubbed it around my hole before he tried entering again. It went more easily this time and I came to enjoy it. Though I didn't know much of fingering back then and even less about the prostate, I just liked the immediate intimacy that occurred as he started moving around inside of me. I worried a lot at first; was I clean? How did I feel around Alfred? Did I make too much noise, too little noise, was he doing it right, was I doing it right? But soon I calmed down and let go of all worries as I just let myself enjoy him and it wasn't until he started pushing a second finger to my entrance that I shook my head and whispered:
"I am not sure I can do more."
I was sweating at that point. It was dripping down my back and face, my cock was partly hard and trapped against the mattress and my fingertips were hurting from having tugged at the duvet underneath us. I felt the room had turned stuffy and I could hardly breathe. Especially not as my lips seemed extremely dry as well as my tongue. I licked it around my mouth as I looked over my shoulder and brushed my fringe aside. It was thick with sweat. So much for showering.
"Did I hurt you?" Alfred asked shyly. His finger was still inside of me but now he slowly withdrew it. I grimaced as it left my body and I squeezed my buttocks tightly together as he let go of them and sat up.
"No," I said and closed my eyes. "You did just fine."
"Did you come?" I shook my head again. I wasn't feeling hot and bothered, just strangely happy. My hole felt different and a tad sore but nothing I would complain about. I shrugged lightly.
"No but it's fine. I feel good."
"Yeah?" Alfred moved and I lied down next to me with a sigh. He bounced down and lied on his back with a loud huff. I opened my eyes partly to watch him and found him staring back at me excitedly. It wasn't until I peeked between his legs, though, that I realised just how hard he was. His cock was standing up big and proud and he was holding onto it tightly as he seemed just ready to blow his load. "You looked so fucking sexy," he whispered and my faced reddened deeply. The sight of his pleased face was so much more satisfying than having him inside of me and I couldn't help it but rolled to my back and grabbed at my own cock as I gave it a jerk.
"So did you," I whispered and kissed his shoulder as he started jerking himself off hurriedly. He came with a groan. I followed not long after.
We didn't speak of fingering again for the next few days I was there. Alfred had a happy smile on his lips the whole time and I think he was still satisfied from that first time. He even hid the bottle away in his drawer and I felt I could finally breathe without being expected to do anything but to sit and sweat in the garden while he showed off his newest football-tricks. It gave me a chance to reflect upon it all. I especially thought about my upcoming chat with Scott.
In some ways Scott had been right; getting back together with Alfred had seemed hurried and sudden, and I was still a bit taken aback by his coming-out talk with his parents earlier that week. Back in December we'd stopped talking because I'd admitted to being gay. Now Alfred had come out and though I doubted he would let anyone at school know, it was still a pretty big step. I couldn't help but to think that it meant he must have been thinking about it all for much longer than I'd suspected. I should be the first one to know that being gay is not something you accept straight away if no one else around you does, and I felt assured that Alfred had had less colourful friends than I over the past few years. Maybe that was why he was still confused and searching for the right words to describe himself with.
But Scott hadn't been right in his anger. Watching Alfred grinning at me whenever he rolled the ball across his shoulders right left me wondering how we could ever had come so far apart as we were back in January. With him everything was just natural; we'd held hands and kissed since we were kids, we'd been in the same class up until now and we'd shared thoughts and feelings in the best way we knew. It would've been impossible for me to keep an anger for him because he simply meant too much to me. But it nagged me thinking that anyone would consider me a sellout; someone who just weakly jumped back into his arms because it was easier than to fight the world alone. I wondered if that was how Scott still viewed me.
I'd wanted to prepare myself for the chat with Scott to avoid any awkwardness, but I wasn't given the time. As I returned home from Alfred's I found myself buried in summer-readings which I was for once behind in. That Alfred kept calling to tell me silly things like how he'd swallowed a fly by accident or found my dirty socks underneath his bed didn't help much on my concentration either. By the time class started up again I was more prepared for calling in sick than for facing Scott. He, however, hadn't rehearsed greatly either. Rather he looked like he'd had a horrible summer and hidden underneath his duvet for the whole time. His skin was oddly pale and his eyes drowsy as we bumped into each other on the stairs going to lunch and we clumsily stepped aside.
"Hey," he said messing up his dark hair.
"Hey," I replied weakly.
"Good?"
"Alright yeah. Yourself?" Scott cleared his throat:
"Uh, how about we go outside to chat?" he suggested. He was looking around. A lot of guys were hanging out in the hallways discussing their holidays and I nodded.
"Let's go behind the cafeteria. No one ever goes there."
We were quiet walking there and I took the chance to look him up and down. He was wearing some old tee and worn chinos and he didn't at all look up for chatting. He was holding onto his bag and he was swaying it by his side lightly. I tightened the strap in mine and turned around a corner by the cafeteria to let us outside through the back door. I threw a quick glance in across the tables searching for Alfred and I thought I saw him with the other guys, but I didn't have time to check. I knew he would be alright by himself. Scott was more of a doubt.
We stepped through the small door out onto the few steps of stone leading to the teachers' parking lot in the back. I stepped down a step or two before taking a seat and Scott closed the door behind us before walking all the way down to stand on ground. He dropped his bag to the stair and shoved his fingertips into the pockets of his chinos as he leaned a bit forward and started rocking from heel to toe. He was avoiding eye-contact. I took in a deep breath of the fresh air and glanced towards the cars parked a few metres away.
"How was your summer?" I asked and quickly added: "Sorry I didn't reply to your message. I was pretty busy."
"It's alright. I bet you were with Alfred all the time," he said in a questioning voice but he didn't look like someone who wanted an answer. He kicked a stone out of his way. "How was my summer? What do you think. Awful. I was upset which made my parents upset. They said I ruined their holiday."
"Sorry about that..." I glanced upwards and squinted at the sharp sunlight. Though we'd just entered September it was still pretty warm and I was wearing light jeans with holes in them. I peeled at one of them and fumbled across my skin as I tried coming up with something to say. "Are you still down about Oscar?"
"Wouldn't you be? What an idiot. What a fucking idiot!" Scott swirled around on the spot and kicked his bag. I wrinkled my brows watching him. He had fisted his hands and punched the air with them, noticed me staring and then let his arms drop to hang by his sides. "I really liked him. I'd been so excited to see him and then he pulls this on me. Who knows how many times he'd done it in the time he was gone. I mean, I suspected he would've at least once or twice but that he would have the fucking guts to do it with me so close to him? I'd never expected that. Never." He shook his head.
"Have you been thinking about that all summer?" I asked meekly. Scott grimaced and pointed to his tired face.
"What does it look like?"
"Sorry, never mind!" I rolled my eyes and leaned back. Scott turned his back to me and sighed.
I did feel a bit like an idiot asking all these questions. It was obvious to me he had been hurt and was still hurting, and I felt somewhat close to him. At least close enough to understand his pain. But I hated being talked back to like this and a stubborn voice in me kept repeating that I was in my right and he was the one who had wanted to apologise to me and meet up with me. So far we'd only met up.
I stared at his back until he turned back around with more shy eyes. "I'm very frustrated," he said. "I just don't know what to do."
"I know," I said. "I had the same feeling just a few months ago. Hell, most of my life before then too."
"With Alfred you mean?" I nodded and Scott scratched his chin. "It isn't the same though. I've been with him for quite some time."
"And I've known Alfred since we were both eleven years old," I replied and raised my brows. The way Scott looked at me confirmed what I had been wondering; he really did still consider me weak. I grabbed around my knees and straightened up sitting. "He came out to his parents," I said and Scott blinked.
"Really? He said he is gay?"
"Not that he is gay. But that he's with me." Scott looked genuinely impressed though he didn't say it out loud. I felt a quiet joy ride through my body.
"Oh." I kicked the air and tried giving him a bit of a smile.
"Will you be having lunch with the guys?" I asked and Scott hesitated. "It's only Alfred you don't like, right? He doesn't even have a problem with you," I lied. "But you don't have to chat."
"I don't know," he said.
"When you want to we can start going to the slams together again," I continued hopefully but he shrugged me off again with a childish:
"Maybe." I rolled my eyes again. He was starting to get a bit on my nerves and after a few seconds I finally got up.
"I am going to head to lunch," I said. "Do you want to join or not?"
"Maybe one of the other days," he said and scratched his cheek. "I still have some things to think about. Alfred is one of them."
"Alright," I sighed as I didn't reel like getting into the whole deal with Alfred telling on Oscar. I was about to head back up, but something in me wouldn't do it. I stepped up the stairs and turned back around. "What if Oscar came back to you?" I asked and Scott grimaced. "No, really. What if he apologised for everything. Would you get back together?" Scott seemed to give it a thought.
"I probably would," he said. "He's a nice guy deep down."
"Then stop acting as if I am a weak kid for being back with Alfred." I tightened my grip around my bag and took in a deep breath. I wasn't sure why I was saying all this, but it just suddenly blurted out of me: "He never cheated on me. He always tried to do what he thought was right and was he sometimes wrong? Hell yeah. But I've forgiven him and he's forgiven me and I never spent a whole holiday sobbing because of him. I just had to pull through. That's what you told me. So stop speaking of him as if he's a jerk. It doesn't suit you." Scott looked at me with big eyes and his lips stretched into a fine line on his face. I could tell he was angry with me and upset at the same time. I didn't have the time to apologise for what I'd said. I nodded, turned around and headed back inside.
Though my chat with Scott hadn't been the best I still felt good having been upfront with him for once. Looking at his face I realised that he'd been a hypocrite all of this time; while he was blaming me for being with Alfred, he was thinking how Oscar might have been cheating on him. At least Alfred had never promised me anything while we were friends. A boyfriend should be something different.
Alfred never really got what was going on and I think that was for the better. He didn't even ask me about the chat I had with Scott. I think he wasn't the least interested. The friendship between the two of them wouldn't be restored and they were both fine with things being that way. As Scott started having lunch with the rest of us, Alfred just shrugged it off, made sure to sit at least three seats away from him and else enjoyed the conversations we had.
I had started to blend in with the crowd. It seemed most of these guys had forgotten that I was gay and therefore different, and I was often asked about boobs or my preference in girls before someone suddenly remembered and started laughing at whoever had asked me. I just smiled at them and kindly joked along with whatever they threw at me knowing that they meant no harm. The harshest gay-joker was often Alfred and luckily I could always smack his head when walking home from school. It became natural for us to hang out almost every day and thinking back, I can't remember a single day in September where we didn't see each other as classes had ended. We didn't do things much differently than friends but for the occasional kisses and jerking off. Even fingering was somewhat rare and I only did it to please Alfred because it made him hard so easily. Surely I daydreamed about what fucking would feel like but I knew I wasn't ready for it yet. I wasn't even sure how it was supposed to work out and so we kept our relationship pretty quiet considering we were teenagers.
Even though no one inside school knew that Alfred and I were seeing each other, I think they appreciated that we mostly came off as a pair of jokers. The less I acted like the stereotypical gay man, the easier they had it around me and the more they hung out with me even when Alfred wasn't to be seen. But of course there was still a few guys who either couldn't or wouldn't come to terms with my sexuality and it showed at PE.
Though I didn't dread PE anymore the same way I'd done my first year, I still didn't like the locker room. It seemed like such a masculine place and I didn't fit in with my weak arms and lacking body-hair. Here I was at my most vulnerable and Louis and the lot took advantage of it by shouting 'fag' and kicking around my bag whenever they got their hands on it. This Thursday was no different. It started with some pushing around when showering and ended with them stealing my bag. As I came out from the showers dripping wet and with the towel hanging over my shoulders, I saw them standing with my bag between them at the left bench. Someone had snatched a piece of chalk and had written 'homo' on the front of it. I sighed as I saw it.
"Very funny, now give it back," I said reaching out my hand.
"Nope," one of them answered. "I am not touching a homo."
"But you will touch my bag?" I asked and got no answer.
"You're not touching my bag," someone grimaced childishly.
"Yeah, fuck off homo."
"Fuck off yourselves." A guy reached in between the group as he passed them by, snatched the bag out of Louis' hands and handed it to me with a wry smile. I recognised him from lunch but I couldn't remember his name. "Not very creative these days, are they now?"
"Thanks," I said. His skin was a tad darker and his hair messy and brown.
"Antonio," he said. "If you forgot my name."
"Arthur," I replied awkwardly and he laughed:
"I know." He sat down on the bench next to me as I started getting dressed. "Can you get that off of your bag?"
"Yeah, it's just chalk," I said and easily swiped some of it off with my damp fingertips. He nodded thoughtfully.
"Are you coming tomorrow?"
"Coming?"
"To town," he said. "Some guys and I are heading out for a drink. Maybe you would like to join?"
"Uh..." I looked at him surprised. I'd never been invited to join anyone drinking, at least not since I still went to parties with Evan, and it took me somewhat by surprise. Antonio smiled.
"I know Alfred is going too. You can always hang out by his side," he said.
"Not like I need a bodyguard," I huffed and we both laughed lightly.
"Alright, just saying."
"Yeah. Okay. I might go," I said. Antonio nodded and looked pleased.
"Do you know if Scott would go?" someone asked. I looked to my left and found another guy from the table standing there. I remembered his name to be Stuart. He was leaning onto the bench with his knee but then sat down on it. He was just in a pair of wet briefs and I forced myself not to look but just kept getting dressed.
"Uh, maybe?" I answered.
"He's not been around all summer. It would be nice to see more of him," Antonio added. I gave it a thought; if Scott was dragged out into town, he would have the chance of getting some beer and meeting some girls and forget about Oscar for a while.
"I can try to ask him," I said.
"If you are going, I am sure he'll go too," Antony said.
"Yeah," Stuart nodded. "Aren't you pretty good friends?"
"We're alright," I said shrugging and zipped my bag. I dragged it over my shoulder and smiled at them. "Okay. Going to town tomorrow."
"Meet you at nine! Don't forget your fake ID."
"My fake ID?" Stuart and Antonio smiled at each other.
"He can borrow Alfred's," Antonio said. I chose not to comment on it. I was just feeling the thrill from having been invited out with the rest. For once I was one of the guys.
As Alfred heard I was going out with them, he tried to make their nights sound like the most eventful time I would ever have in my life. Sitting in my room Friday evening he bragged away about beer, ladies and 'downing a bottle of whiskey in one hour'.
"We normally go to the pub on the corner," he said fiddling with his socks. He had put on jeans and a tight fitted black tee. I was listening to him blabber while getting dressed myself and sometimes I looked to get a glimpse of his muscles showing underneath the fabric. "Just to start with a beer. Then we hit the clubs and get the ladies."
"You get ladies?" I asked with a wry grin slipping on a sweater. Alfred blushed a little.
"They try to get me but of course I refuse."
"Of course. Could you turn off the music?" Alfred reached over and turned off my radio. He then grabbed his bag and dragged it onto the bed as he searched for his money in the front pocket. He was supposed to sleep over and possibly stay for the weekend, but he'd only brought one pair of boxers and no books for school Monday. He had however brought plenty of movies with him. As he pushed the bag back down onto the floor, I could hear them rustling around.
"Is Scott going then?" Alfred asked and I looked at him surprised. I hadn't expected him to remember.
"Yeah, I asked him after class. He said he would. It did take some convincing though."
"What kind of convincing?" Alfred asked.
"Just the promise of a fun evening." It wasn't a lie though not the whole truth. Scott had seemed suspicious as I approached him with the idea of a night out. I couldn't blame him; I never went out with his mates, so to have them inviting me out and even make me drag him along seemed weird to him. Maybe he was even a bit embarrassed he had alienated himself so much for this to happen.
'Look,' I'd said, 'I am going and I never go anywhere. That must mean something, right? At least come along to show me some support so I don't have to chat football and boobs all evening. Be my literate partner!' It had luckily made him laugh and after a free sandwich from the cafeteria, he'd agreed to tag along. He would meet us at the park at nine, he'd said. Now I could only hope that he would keep the promise.
"Is that what you're wearing?" Alfred suddenly asked and I looked down myself.
"It's just a sweater."
"It's a bit geeky. It's homo. You look homo." I blinked at him and only then did I realise that he was joking; he was sending me a bright grin and I sat down astride of his lap and grabbed at his head.
"Good. I am homo," I smiled. Alfred ran his fingertips up and down my back and I leaned down to kiss him shortly. He dragged me closer immediately for more and I could possibly have been convinced by his charm. But I kept the evening in mind and as he pressed his tongue in between my lips, I leaned away and pursed my lips. "Beer," I said.
"Right. Beer!" Alfred seemed well excited. I slipped down from his lap.
"I'll just grab an apple on the way. Put your stuff underneath the bed and I'll be right there." I messed up his hair before hurrying to the kitchen. I could hear him growl as he tried to fix the locks after I left.
Mom was standing by the window as I got out there. She was sipping a cup of tea. I smiled at her as she looked up. "Going out in a second," I told her and grabbed a red apple from the bowl on the fridge. She nodded lightly.
"When will you be home?" she asked and I shrugged.
"I don't know. Not too late I think."
"And Alfred is sleeping over?" I sighed:
"That's what I said. Is it still alright?" I looked at her and she quietly glanced down into her cup of tea. She had been quiet a lot recently. I pondered if it was because of work. She had been hanging out at home at odd times of the day just cleaning the kitchen or watching telly while looking sad. But she never spoke about it.
"Of course it's alright," she finally said. I nodded, spun the apple around in the air before catching it and heading for the door. "Arthur." I turned around. She licked her lips and put the cup down on the counter. "You're hanging out with Alfred quite often, aren't you?"
"We're friends," I said. As she stared at me, I felt a lump starting to build up in my throat. I tugged at the collar of my sweater. "Mom-"
"You and Alfred, are you-…" She looked away. She couldn't finish her sentence. I felt my heart racing as she clucked her tongue searching for the right words to say. "Are you… Oh gosh. Arthur, please tell me." She looked at me with her eyes big and begging. I swallowed harshly – my Adam's apple jumped at the pressure.
"Am I what?" I whispered and she stood up immediately, walked over and reached for my hand, but she didn't grab it.
"We'll figure it out," she said. I was looking straight into her eyes now. She seemed so weak; her pupils were shaking and her upper lip was stiff. She was grimacing trying to hold back her emotions. "Please, Arthur, I just need to know."
"I…" I parted my lips. My breath was ready. I had it all stumbling up inside of me; all my words, explanations, worries, hopes and things I wanted to talk about, ask about. But then Alfred stepped out into the hallway. He slammed my bedroom door shut and turned to us.
"Are you ready?" he asked and I looked at him. He held his hands up in defence. "Oh, sorry, did I interrupt?"
"No," Mom said and as I looked back at her, she was smiling kindly. "Have a nice evening. Don't get drunk."
"We won't even drink!" Alfred blabbered well aware of how his own mom would've reacted did she know what he was up to. I just shook my head and took a bite of the apple as I stepped over to put on my shoes.
"I'll only have a beer or two," I promised. Alfred shushed at me with red cheeks, smiled charmingly at my mom and then fiddled the front door open. He stepped out and I waved at her. She didn't see it; she'd already left for bed.
By the time we arrived, Scott was already waiting for us by the park entrance. Alfred had been giving me a lift on the back of his bike and it felt odd getting off the rear rack with Alfred rather than Scott. Rolling downhill with my scarf flowing in the wind I'd thought back to the time when he'd given me lifts back and forth to the poetry slams. I'd enjoyed it thoroughly but tough I had mentioned the basement to Scott myself, I wasn't sure I would really want to go back. Performing poems was something I now connected to the time before Alfred and not with him. I figured I had to come up with something else to do with my time now.
Scott wasn't by himself; Stuart had shown up too as well as Antonio and two other guys I didn't know by name. They were all typical big men who did sport and I awkwardly smiled and stepped to stand next to Alfred as he went to greet them. I felt immediately out of place but they weren't rude to me. Rather Stuart went to greet me immediately.
"Ready for drinking?" he asked and rubbed his hands together. "I need to celebrate!"
"Celebrate what?"
"My team won!"
I felt dumb but had to ask: "Uh, team?"
"Basketball," Antonio explained from behind. "We watched the game earlier. My team lost, so don't celebrate too wildly."
"Celebrations!" Stuart cheered loudly. Scott slowly walked over next to me.
"I don't watch it either," he let me know. I looked up. He looked better today than he had on the first day of school. A few weeks had passed by since then but still his mood had improved; he didn't look like he'd just stumbled out of bed but rather awake and active. Still he was more quiet than he used to be. As we headed through the park, he walked behind everyone else and I tried to stay in the middle not to lose touch with the guys nor leave Scott behind.
It was a nice evening though a bit chilly. I tightened my scarf and took in a deep breath. Stuart was watching me and he slowed down to walk by my side. "Good you could come," he said. "The more the merrier. Ron and Eddy were supposed to be here too, but they ended up not going in the last second. Such losers."
"How many guys are you normally?"
"Normally most from our PE class, yeah. Alfred hardly ever says no. But he has since you started hanging out again." I smiled wryly:
"Oh, so you had to invite me to drag Mr Football along?" Stuart started laughing.
"It's nothing like that, shut up. Are you used to drinking though?" It was a silly question but of course he couldn't know that. Though it had been a while since I was last at a party, I still clearly remembered the taste of all the colourful drinks and the little taste in those looking like water. Even better did I remember how my mouth felt after having thrown up at Alfred's house. I bit my lower lip at the memory.
"I have. I choose not to get drunk anymore, though. It's not worth it."
"Not worth it!" Stuart looked like I had just insulted something dear to him and it made me laugh. Despite his broad shoulders and stubbles he got a very feminine sway to his hands the moment I said that. "Don't be silly. It is always worth getting drunk. Right, Scott?" He looked back at him and I did too. Scott just smiled weakly at him. I sensed a story I hadn't been told.
I got to hear plenty of stories about Alfred. We'd hardly gotten to the pub before everyone started rambling away. We got a table in the corner and everyone but me flashed their fake IDs at the bartender who just raised his brows at them. He inspected Alfred's.
"23 years old?" he asked and Alfred nodded wildly though everyone was snickering. "Right. Better serve you then." He winked at Alfred who turned red like a beetroot and we were all given a pint of beer. I snatched the fake ID out of Alfred's hand.
"You seriously thought you could pass as someone that old?" I asked looking at it. "You hardly look your own age as it is!" He did; his face had become much squarer over the last few years, his voice had deepened and with his recent shorter haircut, he could pass as someone nineteen on a good day. But my outburst made the others laugh.
"Mine says eighteen," one of the nameless guys said as if to redeem his own pride.
"Mine says twenty," Stuart said. He looked at me. "Too old?"
"No, the stubbles help. Alfred here is smooth." I teasingly grabbed at his chin and he wriggled free with a grimace and raised his glass.
"Oh, shut up."
"Getting defensive?" Scott asked. We all got quiet and awkwardly glanced between Scott and Alfred. Scott looked surprised at himself; as if he had never meant to say that out loud. I reached in underneath the table and squeezed Alfred's knee. Though a lot of the things Scott thought and said about Alfred annoyed me, I didn't want a single comment to ruin the night.
Alfred took in a deep breath. "Yes," he then said calmly and took a sip of his beer. And that was all. I cleared my throat and raised my own beer up high.
"To basketball," I said smiling jokingly, "whichever team you like."
"To basketball!" Stuart cheered.
"To ladies!" Antonio roared.
"And to alcohol for making them available to us," one of the nameless guys pointed out.
"I don't want to cheer to that," I huffed and wrinkled my nose.
"Me neither," Scott agreed.
"Fuck man, the mood is turning gay. Alright, to America!" Alfred shouted.
"To England," I interrupted and on that note all glasses smashed together and we had a big gulp. Alfred choked a little. I closed my eyes tightly and sighed at the taste of beer again. Scott had at least three gulps and smiled afterwards.
"You're always so damn patriotic, Alfred. Arthur, did you know, he once started singing the national anthem when drunk? Talk about a party pooper!" Stuart grinned and Alfred rolled his eyes innocently.
"Or the time he dropped his drink on that girl-" Antonio pondered.
"Hah, how about when we shaved his leg as he passed out?"
"They shaved your leg?" I chirped and blinked at Alfred. He kicked someone underneath the table.
"No. Never," he said and Stuart laughed.
"Right, as if. You were all drunk on the bed and we came in with the razor. So-…"
He continued the story which evolved into another story which was soon followed up by a third. Everyone had their go at embarrassing Alfred to entertain me but for Scott who wisely shut up and just sat smiling. We had three beers at the pub and I don't remember when we left. I just remember being in an extremely good mood while poking fun at Alfred for all the new things I now knew about him. At one point we fell behind the group and he grabbed my hand, dragged me in close and kissed my cheek.
"Don't be too cheeky," he whispered and I felt my cheeks heat up. "You will regret it later." He waved with his fingertips in the air. I punched him in the stomach and hurried to keep up with the rest. Alfred was laughing harshly. I was silently making plans for us for later.
A lot of clubs turned us down as we tried entering and as a single bouncer threatened calling the police on us, the guys hid their IDs in a hurry and quickly walked on. I just hung out in the background not to get in any kind of trouble though I had the feeling that while these blokes would be grounded if they were driven home in a police car, my dad would just praise me for becoming more of a daredevil. Most of the time I kept an eye on Scott. He was quiet but smiling all the time. I could tell he was enjoying just hanging out and the beer had made him chat a little now and then. He mostly just cracked jokes or pointed something out to me as we walked, but at least it was some sort of improvement. Though he wasn't the kind of literate companionship I'd imagined, it was actually alright; these guys were nice and neither of them tried excluding me just because I was the gay guy. I didn't even feel very gay. No one mentioned my sexuality, not even as we passed a porn-shop clearly aimed at my kind. Alfred was the only one who got big eyes and glanced back at me. Had we been alone, I think he would've walked in there. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was getting tipsy; apparently he wasn't as used to drinking as he would like me to imagine.
As we were finally let in somewhere it was into a colourful basement with loud music playing. Here no one seemed to care for age but just for whether or not we could afford to pay the drinks we ordered. A few young-looking girls were hanging out in the corner pursing their lips at everyone, an elderly man was sitting at the bar ordering his fifth shot of vodka and plenty of styled-up couples were dancing in the middle of the room. From the ceiling colourful lights were splashing all over their sweaty skin and for a moment I found myself fascinated just watching them.
"I want sex on the beach," Stuart said and laughed as if he'd just made the best joke ever.
"Me too," Antonio said. "But not with you!" They glared at each other for a moment and then started laughing deeply before breaking free from the group as they headed for the bar. I looked up at Alfred and shrugged.
"Do you want anything?" he asked.
"Could you just get me whatever?"
"What?" He leaned in closer. "I can't hear you." The music was getting louder and I pressed my lips to his ear shouting:
"Just whatever!"
"Right!" He gave me a thump up and then followed the other guys. I turned to Scott. He was watching a girl dancing; her hair was long and blond and her skirt shorter than her underwear. As Scott noticed me watching him, he smiled shyly and shook his head.
"I am not drunk enough to attempt!" he said and winked at me.
"Then get a drink," I suggested. "I'll find us a table, alright?" Scott nodded and I started making my way across the dancefloor awkwardly shoving my way in between the many bodies. I was feeling warm; because it was a basement, little air got in and out of here and sweat starting dripping down my forehead. I unzipped my jacket and gasped in air as I finally made it to the other side of the floor and looked across the small tables lined up alongside the wall. A lot of them were being used and there weren't enough space by just one for all of us. I pushed some of the chairs aside to put two tables together as a hand was placed on my back.
"It's really you!" someone behind me said. The voice was muffled by the music and I didn't recognise it straight away, so as I turned around and saw who was standing behind me, a jolt went through my body.
"Evan!" There was no doubt it was him; surely his face had matured over the last two years, his haircut had changed into a black mess and he'd gotten a bit more lean. But his eyes were the same. He was smiling at me joyfully as if he'd been looking for me for long. "You're-" still alive, I thought but smiled: "here! Long time no see."
"Long time no see indeed. Man, have I missed you." He was still smiling and it gave me chills down my spine. Not of the good kind but rather ones of anxiety. Looking at his ripped tee, the necklace with a upside-down cross attached to it, the skinny, green jeans and the big boots I felt almost sick. It wasn't that he was bad looking but he was in the past and not the present and I hadn't been giving him much thought for a while. He was what I could've become had I not made some radical choices. I wasn't sure why, but it scared me a bit.
"Oh..." I just said.
"I'm here with some mates. Damn, Arthur, you need to meet them. You'll love them," he said before looking me up and down. He frowned a bit and an arrogant glimpse came to his eyes. "You're wearing a sweater," he said. I looked down myself and felt immediately embarrassed.
"Well-"
"Don't tell me you have started licking pussy too." I felt my face warm up at his directness. It almost made me angry. I remembered how he used to talk to me and correct me whenever he thought I didn't do things right, and it made me feel like a child again. But I found it hard to find the words in me to talk back to him. "What are you doing now?"
"I'm finishing high school. Second year," I told him. He raised his brows.
"I'm working," he said. "It gives good money. If you worked, maybe you could get some cooler clothes as well."
"Oh, shut up," I mumbled and it made him laugh. I glanced to the side, but I couldn't see the others anywhere. I looked back at Evan. "Where do you work?" I asked awkwardly.
"At a CD-shop. It pays alright. It's cooler than school," he said and made a face of disgust as if educating oneself was the worst thing you could ever do. It made me raise my brows at him a little. He looked over his shoulder and gestured towards a table a bit away; two girls in black dresses and a guy with a mohawk were sitting sipping drinks. The girls looked thirteen. The guy was at least twenty-five. "Come sit with us. We can catch up."
"Not really," I said and scratched my arm. "I'm here with some mates."
"Some mates?" he asked and narrowed his eyes as if he didn't believe me.
"I'm here with Alfred," I said. Evan spluttered:
"With that asshole!" I felt my cheeks darken even more and something in me started boiling. I took in a deep breath.
"At least he never ripped my jeans off while I was passed out!" Evan rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked like I was bothering him with nonsense.
"It was just for fun. I was horny! Jeez, Arthur, get over yourself, you're not that great looking. Not anymore at least. Come sit with us, right? I'll hook you up." He smiled at me suggestively, reached out and then grabbed my hand. I stiffened and parted my lips to say something, hesitated and shook my head. He tugged at my hand again. "Come on."
"Drinks!" Alfred shouted in my ear and I jumped on the spot and automatically ripped my hand away from Evan. I looked up at him with relieved eyes.
"Alfred!" He shoved a big glass with some blue liquid in it up into my face. I grabbed at it surprised. "What is this?"
"That is whatever," he said and laughed. Only then did he notice Evan. "Hey, someone you know?" He clearly couldn't recognise him and Evan just raised his brows and gave me a daring look. I knew what he wanted from me, but he wasn't going to get it. He was in the past and I was better than that. I took in a deep breath.
"No," I said and Evan flinched with a huff. Alfred took a big gulp of his own, red drink.
"Have a fucking nice time," Evan said and swirled around. He walked back to the table and whispered something to one of the girls. They both looked my way and rolled their eyes.
"What was he doing?" Alfred asked.
"Hitting on me," I said and looked at Alfred's face lit up in confusion. I then grinned: "Shut up, he just thought he knew me, but he didn't. Where's everyone?"
"Right here!" Stuart came from behind Alfred holding two drinks of his own. The other guys joined as well and started moving the tables together. I sipped my drink while Alfred leaned in close to my ear.
"He wasn't really hitting on you?" he wanted to be assured and I rolled my eyes at him.
"Do I look like his kind of guy?" Alfred started snickering and so did I. The next time I looked over at Evan, he and his friends had left the table and I couldn't see them on the dancefloor or anywhere else in the club. Alfred tugged at my arm.
"Sit down," he said. "We're discussing football!"
"Fascinating," I answered but took a seat next to him. He grabbed my hand underneath the table and I smiled into my drink. Relief was taking over my body and as I looked at Alfred, I felt a mental barrier create between Evan and him; he was a loser with no boyfriend and no education while I had the school's hottest football player willingly sucking me off in bed. Why would I change that for anything?
"Cheers!" I said and lifted my glass interrupting the others. Scott looked confused.
"Uh, to what?" he asked.
"To Alfred!" I said and Alfred blushed:
"What?"
"-and his shaved leg!"
"Yes!" Stuart roared. "To Alfred and his shaved leg!"
Half an hour and two drinks later I had started feeling the effect of the alcohol. My cheeks were constantly red and I was chatting away as if I'd never done else in my entire life. I wasn't sure what was in this whatever drink Alfred got me, but it surely tasted well and made my eyes go wide open. I blabbered. Alfred laughed. Scott got up and danced with the blonde girl and returned later with her phone number and a lipstick mark on his cheek.
"I think she loves me," he swooned and we all laughed. Antonio later returned with three phone numbers which he bragged about like a charmer. Stuart just shook his head at him; he still hadn't chatted up a single lady and as we left the club around half past eleven, he was ready to continue to another one. So were the two guys whose names I still hadn't caught onto. I couldn't care less though; the three of them disappeared down the street while Scott, Antonio, Alfred and I headed back towards the park. Scott and Antonio were walking in front of us holding around each other while both trying to outdo the other in how many girlfriends they had had. Their number of partners got bigger with the minute. I was holding Alfred's hand. No one noticed us and if they did, I didn't take notice myself. I was feeling too happy and too alive to care. It was almost scary; as if I was walking on clouds. Alfred didn't look much better though. Not only his cheeks but his whole face was red and he was swinging my arm around and declaring his love for everything loudly:
"I love football! And chips... and you! Ha!" We grinned at each other.
"I love..."
"Yeah?"
"Shakespeare!"
"Aww, come on Arthur. I am your ride home. Be nice!"
I started laughing: "You are going to bike me home? Drunk!"
"I am not drunk!" We both laughed even harder. My lungs had started hurting and I had forgotten my scarf somewhere, but somehow it didn't matter. I had had an amazing night and no scarf, no Evan, no tipsy-cycling Alfred could ruin it.
He had left his bike by the park. It had been locked to the fence and he fiddled with the key while I said goodbye to Antonio and Scott.
"I'm glad I went," Scott kept saying and smiled at me. "I got a phone number!"
"And a headache tomorrow," I guaranteed and Antonio shook his head.
"Nonsense! Hey, Alfred, cycle nicely!" he shouted and waved at him. I turned back to Alfred who had managed to rip the bike free and was dragging it down onto the road.
"Sure. Sure. Driving," he mumbled. "I am a master at riding a bike."
"See you tomorrow. Uh, Monday," Scott stuttered and I watched him head for the bus stop together with Antonio. As I turned to Alfred, he was sitting astride the bike smiling proudly at me. He rang the bell.
"Your ride is ready, sir!" he beamed and I happily sat down behind him and swung my arms around his waist.
"To the flat, please."
"To the flat!" he repeated and took off downhill. I pressed my warm face to his jacket and closed my eyes as he swung around corners and cheered at the people we passed by. I felt amazing. I had nothing to worry about anymore. Alfred was mine and as we reached the apartment building and he threw his bike to the ground in a shout, I just stared at him admiringly. I was so in love. I was so in love that stumbling up the stairs and scraping my knee didn't matter, so in love that fiddling with the key to open the front door was just one big laugh and so in love that I attacked his body the moment we stepped into my room. Alfred stumbled back onto the bed in surprise at my sudden approach and just looked up at me drowsily.
"Do you want sex?" he asked confused and I sat astride of his lap as I'd done earlier, grabbed him by the hair and grinned.
"Yes, yes, yes," I mumbled and kissed him. He was warm and sweaty. We hadn't even cared for taking off our shoes and jackets and I laughed as we fought to get off the sneakers without moving off the bed. We were loud. It was lovely. He kept kissing me; his wet lips were on my forehead, my ear, my cheek and my lips. I fumbled across his body, unzipped his jacket, tore it off of him and attacked his neck with bites and kisses. Alfred turned his head and gasped. I bit harder.
"No, Arthur, fuck!" he whispered and started struggling underneath me, but I kept tugging at his shirt.
"What? Did I hurt you? Shut up," I mumbled and smiled to his neck. He pushed me off of him and stumbled out of bed, and only then did I see the person standing in the doorway. Everything froze for a second. I felt my heart stop beating. I was staring straight into my dad's eyes and never have I seen him looking more disappointed than at that moment.
He cleared his throat and opened the door fully. "Get out," he said. "Get out of here right now!"
Author note: Hey everyone - sorry for the time you had to wait! I won't even go into explaining why it took me this long because it would bore you all, but I hope you're still here to read and follow this story to the end. Because I am not giving up on this one.
Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They always make my day. See you around!