Song choice is Keane this time.

Part Four – A Bad Dream

Connor, desperate to revel in this feeling, overwhelmed with his emotions, fought hard to remove Craig's jeans from his lower legs (they had bunched up at Craig's knees), followed by his boxers, was now retracing his path back up Craig's torso, kissing all flesh that met his lips in the process, before capturing Craig's mouth with his once more.

The force and power of Connors kiss made Craig's legs turn numb as the boy began to remove his own clothes. In haste, Connor's arms got caught in his t-shirt. Craig chuckled as he helped dispose of the difficult garment.

Now both naked, there was a moment when both took in the sight of the other. Craig's eyes followed all the dips and rises of Connor's skin, along with its tanned view. It was obvious the Irish boy was a swimmer.

Connor was in awe at the muscles that swam beneath Craig's torso. The olive skin looked incredibly tasty; Connor licked his lips in anticipation of kissing that flesh once more.

Once more, Craig asked the question "Are you sure?"

Connor's voice quivered as he answered, but he knew without a doubt that he couldn't stop, that this thing between them couldn't stop. He had to follow his head.

"I'm sure," he answered, mere seconds before latching his lips to Craig's once more. The kiss was fiery, full of clashing teeth and tongues fighting for dominance, hands grasping at flesh, hair and cotton sheets.

Craig, taking control of this moment, rolled Connor onto his back and started travelling down his chest. He tasted anything that he came into contact and his head was swimming. His mind was blown – his soul mate had tasted so pure and sweet and lovely but Connor… Connor was so different. He was musky and strong and addictive.

Connor's hardness was planted lying against his stomach, hard and dripping. Craig grasped it and tugged gently at first before rubbing his thumb over the head and continuing with his stroking motion.

He kissed Connor once more before he was pushed onto his back – Connor had taken control once more. He copied Craig's movements, before taking the next step.

He tentatively took Craig's cock in his mouth, tasting the skin, enjoying as the fullness entered his mouth.

Connor took tentative steps at first, just accommodating to the intruder in his mouth, but soon he was rising and falling as Craig's hands got caught in Connor's brown hair.

Craig was at a loss of words. He began to rise to Connor's actions, his hands gripping tighter to Connor's hair.

The name came as a whisper but it still rocked his very core.

"John…" He groaned, tossing his head back into his pillow.

Connor's ear's shook at the mention of another boy's name. He quickly drew his mouth away from Craig's hardness and wiped his face clear.

"Who's John?"

Craig, shook from his daze, he finally realised that Connor was now replacing his clothes. Craig followed his actions and began dressing himself.

"Is he… is he the boy who you fell in love with? Your best mate?"

Craig's breathe caught in his throat as he dragged his jeans back up his legs and crashed his arms through his red shirt.

"I… I can't, I'm sorry…I'm just… sorry." Craig gasped, getting to his feet, he grabbed his mobile and slowly exiting his own bedroom. He arrived downstairs, back in their living room, and reached for another bottle of Stella.

He popped it open and drank fast and deep. His head started swimming as he slammed the now empty bottle onto the table and reached for another.

He popped it open also, but held off in consuming the alcohol. He opened up a blank message on his mobile and began to type it out.

I'm sorry I couldn't kiss you. I miss you. I love you. C xxx.

He scrolled down through his contracts. He selected John Paul. His hand hovered over the send button before he finally pressed it, his message sent.

He once more drank from his bottle, taking to large gulps. He switched his phone off and tossed it onto the table before him.

As he lulled in the darkness of his Dublin hovel, Craig felt the tears that he'd held back all day begin fall in streams down his face.

-------

Craig had waited two whole weeks for a message from JP, but none came. He received no emails, calls or texts from his ex-lover. His mother and sister had text him and called him almost daily, even Jake had sent him a text.

It was a Thursday night when Craig headed out to Sin, a popular night club in Dublin, with a couple of his mates from his course. They got shots and spirits and Craig was wasted by twelve thirty. His friends sent him home in a taxi, even though his apartment was not that far away. Craig tried and failed to unlock his front door and ended up awaking Connor.

It was this night, in his drunken and depressed state, wanting to feel needed and desired, that Craig and Connor first slept together. It was awkward at first, but Craig paved the way and their sex turned to passion and gave rise to an even more awkward tension within their apartment.

------

A month later and Connor and Craig had unintentionally become attached and desolate. The two could not be around each other without either ripping each others clothes off or having a row of desperate proportions.

The only words crossed between them were 'Good morning', 'good night', or 'harder.'

It was at this time that Craig first tried an E tablet. One of the guys on his course had told Craig that his housemate had gotten his hands on a couple of tablets and asked if he'd like to try it.

Normally, Craig would've refused, but he had heard the weekend gone by that John Paul and Spike had been seen walking around the village hand in hand. They'd even shared a kiss whilst having a pint in the Dog.

Craig's system was already overfilled with Jack Daniels that his conscience was not of great use.

So Craig accepted the tablet and awaited his depression to be lifted, be it only a temporary upper.

On the same night, Craig had pulled a drunken Irish girl. They made out for almost twenty minutes before Craig separated from her in search of a drink. Once more lubricated with a shot of Baby Guinness and a fresh JD and Coke, Craig returned to the dance floor and sought another conquest.

He found a man that resembled his former lover gyrating away with a group of blokes in the centre of the dance floor. His blonde hair spike at odd directions, his ands above his head as the music washed over.

Craig's breathe hitched in his throat at how strong the resemblance was. Craig finished his whiskey in one gulp and made his way through the crowd to the man that drew his attention so strongly.

Craig approached him with such confidence that Craig himself could not believe it. But with the amounts of alcohol and the drug in his system, he knew he had this strength from somewhere.

Amongst the crowd of men, Craig had removed his object of affection from his friends and pulled him to a quiet area of the night club.

He couldn't help but notice that this blonde's eyes were a dazzling shade of blue as well.

Within moments, they were kissing, the two caught in a scene of love and passion that Craig hadn't felt in so long.

The man's name was Mark, and as the night club's DJ the Irish National Anthem, Craig found that he wanted this man, wanted him more than anything he'd ever felt in his entire life.

They returned to the man's friends, holding hands, and they all exited the night club. A few grabbed a taxi and minutes later they arrived at Marks flat.

Craig and Mark and the two others entered. The others headed towards the living room while Mark led Craig to his bedroom.

They fell into bed, lips joined in a searing kiss and were tearing each others clothes off with unknown desire.

For the first time since being abandoned by JP, Craig found himself lying on his back, his legs in the air and his partner grunting and panting above him.

Craig, in his drunken and intoxicated state, imagined it was John Paul towering above him.

And as their fire burned bright, and their joyful consummation arrived, the boys fell into a fretful dream.

The following morning, Craig awoke to find himself in some foreign land, naked, a masculine arm draped possessively across his chest. His head was swimming, yet pounding and he felt nauseated.

He carefully pulled himself from beneath his lover to search for his clothing and escape his one night stand.

He was halfway down the stairs when Mark, dressed in only a pair of briefs and bleary eyed, asked if he would see Craig ever again.

Craig, shamefully hung his head, and declined the invitation.

He left the house, slamming the door behind him and wandered down the street, hands jammed in his pocket. His pocket vibrated and Craig retrieved his mobile phone.

He had received a text message. From John Paul.

Sorry I'm only texting back now, I lost my phone. I miss you too. Are you coming home for Christmas? I think we need to talk. JP xxx.

Craig refused to reply at that moment, he needed to shower and sleep for a couple more hours, and eat something healthy before he even contemplated his next move.