'Sweat' by RY X

You're making me sweat sweat sweat my heart down deep into your bones… You're making me sweat sweat sweat my heart down deep into your soul… I can't take it… I can't take it…

Phil gently placed the body of his cello between his knees, his fingers caressing the neck before he began to play. Lately everything he played had a haunted feel to it, a deep sadness mixed in every note. The rain started to pound against his bedroom window, the light in the room turning grey.

He stood, quite suddenly pushing the cello away from him and leaned it against the wall. He looked up at his violin in its case on the side and wondered if that would ease the chaos in his heart and soul. He looked over at the painting he'd started yesterday; Rae, standing staring out at him, so beautiful. His long fingers reached out and touched her cheek on the canvas. He looked at the other half of the canvas, where, quite unexpectedly Finn had appeared under his paintbrush, looking over Rae's shoulder, his eyes piercing Phil's soul. He stared at the painting, the corners of his mouth turned down. It felt like there was a fire burning through his innards. He grabbed his biggest paintbrush and the black paint and painted over the picture of Rae and Finn. Why had he even painted them together? He didn't need to see that here in his bedroom; he saw it enough at school. And yet even as he gave in to a feeling of morbid bitterness, he could feel a shift inside of him. He was genuinely friends with Finn and that was hard because it would be easier to hate the man she had chosen over him even though she loved them both. But Finn was so very hard to hate and so very easy to like. He was good for Rae; he made her so happy. And he was a good, kind human being. As he thought Phil had painted a whirlpool of colours on the black background, deep dark reds and oranges, like lava brewing in a volcano.

He hated not being able to understand what he had painted.

He sat up in the bed.

"I don't know what it is you do with your hands but you could charge women for the privilege and they'd pay." Jenny lit up a cigarette and lounged across her bed. Phil slid the used condom off the end of his cock and tied the end and stared at the wall for a moment. There was usually a soft tug of hollowness after sex for him. Not because meaningless sex was bad, but because he wished he were making love to Rae instead. He wished he were laying down next to her and holding her after making her moan like Jenny just had. He wondered if lying down with Jen would make him feel any better. He turned to look at her and tried to imagine stroking her hair like he'd stroked Rae's in Lincoln.

What the fuck are you doing Phil?

Just stop it.

You choose the women you choose because they don't want that kind of intimacy. And neither do you.

Unless it's with Rae.

He stood up and dropped the condom in the bin near the door, clothing himself as he walked.

"See you next Tuesday." She said as he got to her bedroom door; she knew he'd see himself out.

"Sounds good." He answered before he left her bedroom.

Outside, it had started raining again. Phil had walked over to try and clear his head; he kept thinking of Rae, of course, but then Finn would pop into his mind unbidden and kiss her. The weird thing is that either Finn or Rae would stare at him after, sometimes both of them; as if they were saying something to him with their eyes. He had no idea what his mind was doing to him, he didn't even know if he wanted it to stop. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold rain; it was oddly comforting. His hair quickly stuck flat to his head as he walked, the heavy rain soaking through his clothes to his skin. He shivered as he walked; but he liked the cold, he liked feeling things physically when he struggled to let himself properly feel the depth of his own emotions.

He cut across the playing fields, the wet grass sticking to his shoes, the cuffs of his jeans growing heavy with water. Ahead he saw a lad walking towards him. He had a vision of Finn approaching him and his stomach clenched. But he knew this lad was not Finn; he was slightly shorter, marginally stockier, the hair colour was just off. Phil still watched the lad as he approached and looked at his face as they said hi and passed each other. Phil felt himself turning and looking at the lad, his eyes dropping to take in all of his form.

As soon as he did that, Phil turned himself back around to face the right way, his eyes opening a little wider in surprise at himself. But completely against his own better judgement, he turned back around and watched the lad walking away, his broad shoulders moving under his jacket. Phil cocked and eyebrow and turned back around, to face the direction he was walking. Lately he had found himself assessing the male physique more and more. He imagined it was because of the training he was doing with Finn, but in reality he was comparing his own body to Finn's and Liam's; the men she had be with, although he really could not understand Liam. Finn deserved Rae; Liam most certainly did not. Phil was aware of Rae's self-esteem issues, but Liam still seemed to be an odd choice.

Rae.

She was always on his mind.

And now Finn was too a lot of the time. He supposed they came together; even in his thoughts they were inseparable.

He got to the street and ran his hand along the wet brickwork of the fences as he walked. When he realised what he was doing he snatched his hand away and shoved it into his pocket, his heart hammering in his chest.

Sometimes he would ache so much for her he would cry. But whenever he cried, there was only so much he'd allow himself to cry before some huge subconscious internal hand would squeeze the life out of him for feeling such things; his emotions just shut down sometimes and were replaced by a cold snow storm of numb, it had been that way since he was young. He could never cry for long before he gained control of himself. He hated that. He sometimes wished he could just let go. He didn't know how to. But music usually always helped stop the relentless white noise in his skull during these emotional moments. Painting was good too, to a lesser degree. But the last few weeks he hadn't been able to play.

He supposed that was why he was finding himself running his fingers over rough surfaces more often lately.

Either way he knew he was in trouble. He couldn't take it.

But the minute he had that thought, he felt his inner strength surge, and a sense of self-control returned to him.

Not only would he take this, but he would take it for as long as she still wanted him around. As her friend. He knew it would never be more.

And he had Finn's friendship to live up to as well now. He would not let either of them down.

"Looking good Phil!" Phil had his earphones in and only half heard the words, but he grinned.

"Hey Finn-" He turned to see it wasn't Finn. "Oh hey Jamal." Phil said awkwardly and took his earphones out.

"Nelson give you that many compliments huh?" Jamal asked with a suggestively cocked eyebrow.

"Well he is my personal trainer." Phil answered, trying not to sound embarrassed, and trying not to get the urge to cover up his naked upper torso too hastily. Boys change rooms could be tricky.

"Well you know his best mate's gay…"

"Doesn't mean he's gay." Phil answered and tried to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"No, but you know… other people around you might be…" Jamal looked at him for a moment and then looked away. There was an awkward moment of silence while Phil tried to figure out if Jamal had just outed himself or not. "But I don't suppose guys like you… guys like us are interested into that kind o' thing." Phil took a deep breath and considered it.

"I'm not opposed to gay sex in theory… in practice, it's… it's never really come up. No guy's ever tried it on with me and… well, I haven't considered if I find men attractive like that. It's definitely not a repulsive idea…" Phil furrowed his brows.

"Aye but you either do or you don't find men attractive. It's not something to consider."

"I s'pose." Phil answered, "I guess it's never really been a question for me; I've always found women attractive. But I'm not turned off by men's bodies and… I suppose anything's possible… it just hasn't happened for me."

"Yet." Jamal said and slipped his shirt off as if changing for the game, but Phil noticed the flex in his muscles.

"Yet." Phil replied not taking his eyes off Jamal. He wasn't threatened by Jamal's nudity, nor his apparent interest; he was curious to see if anything would stir inside of him.

Nothing did.

He shrugged internally and turned back to his locker.

"But your fucking shirt on Jill! The world can't handle that!" Finn laughed and Phil's stomach leapt.

"Fuck you Quinn, if the world has to endure your fucking face, it can handle my chest." Phil shot back and Finn patted him on the back before opening up the locker next to his. Finn had had his locker moved a few months ago. Phil hadn't thought anything of it at the time, he just kind of liked having Finn's locker next to his, the conversations they had were the highlight of PE.

Phil fidgeted almost imperceptibly; his fingers slowly running over the ends of each other. Mrs Vines spoke about Chaucer, while the heat of Rae's body bathed him. He had noticed that whenever the three of them were together, he and Finn would end up sitting on either side of Rae. In school, in the social events they went to. Even if he sat down first, to stop himself from sitting next to Rae, inevitably she'd sit next to him, Finn on her other side. Sometimes, like at lunch times at the bench they sat at, they would end up pressed together for lack of room, and he would feel their thighs pressing together, their arms… When she was close like this he remembered Lincoln. He remembered her showing her body to him, the way she felt sleeping beside him, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body; the intimacies they had shared. Not once did he regret not taking advantage of her. He knew a lot of other boys would have taken her emotional upset over Finn as an opportunity; and invitation even, especially since she basically told him to take it as an invitation. But she was emotional and vulnerable and he would be lying to himself if he were to say it would have been anything other than him taking advantage of her. But he just couldn't do something like that to anyone, least of all the love of his life. He could have made love to her numerous times over those three nights. He probably could have used her vulnerability to manipulate her into not trusting Finn anymore. He hated himself for even knowing that he could have done it. It wasn't enough to know he'd never do something like that, that when tested, he stayed true to himself, even though he wanted her so badly; he wanted a version of himself that didn't even know that things like that were a possibility.

Phil found himself smiling as Finn compared Chaucer's character the miller to a frat boy. It was a clever comparison, although Phil would never tell Finn that. And then Rae joined in saying the wife of Bath would fit in on something like the Jerry Springer show. Phil would tell Rae what a brilliant comparison it was if it came up in conversation. He knew he was unfairly denying Finn, but Finn didn't really need his compliments, so he didn't worry too much about it. That's what he told himself.

Except he did worry about how unfair he was to Finn.

Constantly.

Two days later he was on a free period and was walking through the stacks in the library, his head down, pouring over a list of books he needed to find. He turned the corner into the last stack, the only dead end row in the library, with only one entrance to the row. It was a slightly darker aisle, but there was nothing extraordinary about it; people doing advanced English would need to head to this aisle because it housed literary criticisms and the classics. He looked up as he walked into the aisle and saw Rae and Finn at the end of the aisle. A book was splayed on the floor, her hands were pressed against the wall. His hand was in her jeans, their eyes never parting, their lips almost touching. The intimacy of the moment nearly floored Phil. And he stepped back on impulse as if the light of their love had pushed him back and made him physically unable to simply turn, he slammed into the stack clumsily. He couldn't recall doing something clumsy since he was 10 and his deportment classes had begun. He banged the stack hard enough for the books to jump and he raised his hands to catch them on instinct. None fell, but he had to stop himself from exclaiming loudly about how hard he'd hit the stacks and how much it had hurt; yelping 'fuck' loudly in pain was not good etiquette in a library, or most places really. He had dropped his piece of paper in his haste to back away and he bent to pick it up, resolutely not looking at Rae and Finn who must know he was there now.

Completely against his own will, his eyes flicked up to Rae and Finn as he straightened up; his piece of paper clutched in his hand. Rae's eyes were wide with shocked horror at being caught, specifically by him, her hands were now in Finn's forearm as if trying to pull his hand from her pants. But Finn was looking over his shoulder at Phil thoughtfully, his tongue poking at his back teeth, his hand not moving from Rae's pants. He seemed to almost look Phil up and down, as if sizing him up, and slowly slid his hand out of Rae's pants. Rae fumbled with zipping up, her face flushing scarlet, but Finn just turned slightly and looked at Phil.

"Need a book?" He asked. And Phil stared at him in silence for a moment.

"Um…" In all of the time Rae had known Phil she hadn't heard him say 'um' once, occasionally he'd say 'uh', but never 'um.' "Um… I'll come back later." He said in a low voice.

"Don't let us stop you." Finn said and Rae gave Finn a disbelieving look. He motioned for Phil to come closer, "C'mon mate, get your stuff."

"I just needed one book." Phil lied. Rae noticed how he couldn't look either of them in the eye. He was great at lying to people he didn't care about, but people he did care about; she'd noticed how he couldn't look them in the eye when he lied to them. She'd seen him lower his eyes and say he was fine when Chloe had asked him. She'd seen the same lowering of the eyes when Kelsey had asked him, or Izzy, or Woody, or Bryn or Bethany… She was sure he'd lower his eyes if any of his other good friends asked him how he was and he answered fine.

"Come get it, it's fine." Finn said honestly and picked up the book he'd made Rae drop when he'd pushed her up against the wall.

"Oh I need that book." Phil nearly kicked himself for not keeping his foolish mouth shut. Finn held it in both hands and looked over at Rae.

"It's fine." She shrugged, "Don't need it." She lowered her eyes, barely able to look at Phil, terrified of the pain this had caused him, cursing herself for letting it go this far in the library of all places. Phil walked up to Finn and took the book, but Finn didn't let go immediately. Phil could smell her scent in the air; a scent he knew from Lincoln. He paused, again barely able to move, Rae looking at her feet, Finn looking him square in the face as he held the book. Phil felt heat spread through his lower abdomen and felt the sudden burst of blood in his cock that was so familiar to him whenever Rae was near, each beat of his heart pulsing more blood into his cock. Phil desperately willed the blush to not come to his face as his desire grew. Finn was his friend, and Rae was right there, and this was just all sorts of awkward and wrong… but his body was aching with lust. His lips parted slightly, his eyes on Finn, the smell of Rae's cunt must be obvious to him too; he was a man, he had to smell it. Phil looked down to Finn's fingers, the ones that had been inside Rae's pants a minute ago and knew that's where the smell was coming from. Finn looked down at his fingers too, and in that moment they both knew that they both could smell her. Thankfully for Rae, she was too busy still staring at her shoes and trying to stop her face from looking like a radish to notice. Both lads looked up at each other simultaneously, and almost sub consciously, Finn let go of the book with that hand, the fingers unconsciously going up towards his nose or mouth, Phil couldn't tell. Finn's eyes had a strange look in them as if he didn't know what he was doing or why, and Phil was mesmerised by his fingers moving towards his face, and the look in his eyes; he so wanted to taste those fingers, to taste her… on those fingers.

"Finn!" Rae hissed almost silently, and he stopped his hand from finishing its trajectory, his eyes flicking from Phil to Rae. Phil looked from Finn to Rae too. There was a moment of silence before Finn looked back down at the book and cleared his throat.

"I'm gonna need this book." Finn said, "I'll come round and get it tomorrow yeah?"

"Sure." Phil said and Finn let go of the book. "See you both in drama." He turned and left before they had chance to say anything, grabbing his bag, checking out the book and leaving the library as quickly as he could.

"That was rude Phil. You're supposed to say goodbye to friends." He said to himself to stop himself thinking over any of what just happened.

He felt like it was tawdry, to do this to the memories of Lincoln, but every time, every goddamn time, he just couldn't stop himself. The steaming shower water down his back, his forehead against the cold tiles, his hand pumping back and forth, his other hand on his chest, his eyes closed. He could almost feel her lips on his again. The look in her eyes in that moment she realised she loved him too. He would not let himself think of that other look – the one when she knew she'd have to tell him no even though she loved him. When he thought about any of that the air was sucked from his lungs. Instead he remembered the sounds she made when he had made her cum, the way her body had moved, how sweet her lips tasted, her smell… he felt himself lying beside her in bed naked. He thought of that last night in Lincoln. He could feel his hands on her creamy skin, he could feel her warmth.

He felt a sound escaping him as he came, the images of her still strong in his mind as he rode his orgasm. But now Finn sat up in the bed on the opposite side of Rae and looked at him thoughtfully. Phil's eyes snapped open, his body heaving with his orgasm. It wasn't the first time Finn had invaded his private thoughts about Rae and it didn't happen often, but from the first day Finn had stepped up jealously to him, he'd been angrily asserting himself in Phil's fantasies; often stopping him from coming. Which Phil would suppose was only fair enough, he often worried if it was appropriate to be fantasising about someone he knew and talked to most days in a sexual way like this; how would Rae feel about it? He knew many women who hated the thought and urged men not to sexualise women against their wishes, but wondered at what point it became thought policing and at what point it became legitimate criticism of the male gaze and male sexualisation of the female form. Usually Finn would appear standing over the bed, and Phil would become instantly aware of just how negatively he compared himself to Finn, and all hope of orgasm was lost. It had been different this time; this time he'd been in the bed with him and Phil hadn't felt threatened by his presence. He supposed it was because they were friends now.

"Ugh, I don't need happy Finn dancing through my fantasies." He turned the temperature down and shoved his face under the water.

Darling Phil,

I'll be home for dinner, don't eat without me, I want to hear all about your day!

Mother xo

He knew he shouldn't bother… but he still waited.

He ate the dinner she'd left for him; a vegan salad, at 9:30pm. Alone. He left her plate of salad in the fridge and headed up to his room, ignoring how dark and silent the house was.

It was moments like these, when the three of them were laughing together that did his head in the most.

"Your core strength isn't good enough." Finn ran his fingertips down Finn's stomach. Phil had seen Rhys do a similar thing to Finn; testing the muscle. "Get on the decline bench."

Phil laced his legs in the knee stirrups and leaned back at the 45 degree angle. These sit ups were killer. Finn grabbed a five kilo medicine ball. "Catch it or it's gonna break your face." He said and Phil looked alarmed at him. "Sit ups, come on! This isn't a day at the beach, lazing about." Phil did his sit ups, his hands ready to catch the ball, his eyes on Finn, sweat beading on his forehead, after about forty sit ups, Phil started to grunt with exertion and that's when Finn threw the ball for the first time, when he was just starting to rise for another sit up, and he threw it very hard. Phil barely caught it, the muscles in his arms, chest, back and stomach tensing magnificently to catch the weight. He understood what he had to do and threw the ball back, completing the sit up as he threw it. Phil was rising again and Finn threw the ball again.

"I'm gonna do this, until you can't catch it from exhaustion." Finn said sternly, "Then we box." Phil gritted his teeth and threw the ball back, hard. Finn gave him an impressed look. "Good. Harder next time."

Phil lay in bed, his body aching from the workouts Finn was giving him; he'd up the difficulty this week and his body was letting him know about it. He also felt the urge to eat meat; he had cravings for it. He'd need to remind his mother to have more meat included in his diet; she'd just have to tell whoever she had preparing their meals, it wouldn't be any extra work for her. He really enjoyed training with Finn, and playing football with him; Finn had brought out a more physical side of Phil. He'd always had his physicality with tennis and fencing, and he was a very physical lover. But this was an extremely muscular physicality. It was new to him and he liked it. He was no longer surprised by just how much he enjoyed Finn's friendship; could there really be any doubt that he'd be an amazing lad? Rae loved him; of courses he'd be brilliant.

And he supposed that this was his life now; friend to both of them. Rae, the love of his life. And Finn, her entirely awesome partner, who he was so glad to call a friend.

Phil rolled over in bed and put his face into his pillow in frustration and misery.

"Stop thinking about them!" He told himself, "Stop thinking about her. She's happy." He laid on his stomach and stared at the wall, "She's happy Phil. Let her go."

But even as he said the words he knew it was impossible to just let her go. He so wished he could just let her go; then they'd all know peace. "I'm trying… I'm trying."