Seamus Ch. 07

Author's notes: I really wasn't happy with my last chapter. I was in a rush to upload it and I think that shows in how clipped the conversation is, especially with Nate; maybe in time I will post a revised version on the site, but in the meantime I am trying to finish what I've got. Secondly, this time round, I've needed to insert some plot, so there's little in the way of sex. If you're reading this to get off, go for one of the earlier chapters or find something else.

*

The next thing I was conscious of was light streaming through the tiny, high windows of our underground room. The golden light of dawn illuminated the white bedsheets and gave our intertwined bodies an ethereal glow. Neill's warm body weighed on my chest and left arm. My muscles were sore and I could not feel my fingers. Not that I minded terribly. The man I loved was curled up against my body, sleeping contentedly, the tears of the night before long forgotten. A strange feeling flowed through my veins and heated my face. It was satisfaction, wholeness, a feeling of having everything I wanted in my arms.

For the first time in the last two days, Neill looked truly calm. His head nestled into my chest, the skin smooth and free of worry. I could feel his lungs move with every breath. He made such endearing little whining, whistling noises that I probably would have laughed under any other circumstances. His fingers were clasped in handfuls of my grey singlet as if he was scared I would run away.

Gently, I brushed the tangle of blonde locks back so that I could see Neill's peaceful, closed eyes. I couldn't help but run my fingertips over the contours of his face, exploring the warm resilience of his cheeks, the soft, thin skin of his eyelids and the prickly half-centimetre growth of golden hair dusting his jaw. He flinched slightly and muttered something like 'fuck off, Seamie', then seemed to drift back to sleep. I didn't want to disturb him, so I let my hand rest on his back and pulled the striped duvet up over us.

Eventually, Neill stirred and smiled at me. "Morning," he yawned. "I could get used to this..."

"Used to what?" I asked.

"Waking up with my head on your chest, your ugly mug smiling at me," he whispered with a grin. He braced himself against my chest and drew his head up above mine. His sleep-mussed hair hung like strands of misaligned silk around his face, causing his features to be partially cast in shadow. Not his eyes though, they glinted, large, fresh and blue, brimming with love for me.

I gently ran my fingers down his warm skin and drew Neill in for a kiss. "Is that all I am, a glorified pillow?" I teased as his lips brushed mine with the strange sensation of my stubble stroking his.

"Yes, idiot," he told me, blue eyes flashing with mirth. "That's all you are, a fucking pillow I make love to. What do you think?"

"A pillow you make love to? Not a pillow you shag?" I mused. My breath caught as his mouth went to work on my neck, teeth teasing the wet, spittle-warmed flesh. His hands smoothed over my singlet, the wrinkled fabric caressing the sweaty skin beneath. I pulled him closer and felt his morning arousal burn against mine.

"As much as I may have wanted it to be, it's never just been shagging. You've pulled me in too deep for that, Seamus," Neill joked between kisses, although I'm sure he meant it.

"Me and my magnetic personality, hmm?"

Neill choked, then chuckled. "I wouldn't say that! You can be a grumpy beggar when you want to be... and you're so damn obsessed with rugby... and your all-over tan and... you smell like socks."

"You don't always smell too hot yourself," I growled, wrestling him over onto his back so that my body rested over him. I ground my pelvis to his and felt his back arch in response. His firm legs parted and hugged me to him so that my burgeoning erection fitted into the alcove between his thighs. Only the cotton of our boxers separated our aroused bodies. I thrust down again, enjoying the smile spreading across his face and the way his breath seemed to catch in his lungs. "Are those the best insults you could come up with?"

Neill shot back, "Wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, seeing as you're such a pussy," but his heart wasn't in it. He was too busy groaning with need as his thighs tightened their grip on my waist and his hips humped against mine. I felt his hands snake their way under the hem of my singlet to lift the fabric over my head. "Why must you insist on wearing so many clothes in bed?"

The singlet became caught and I had to help him remove it. I couldn't help but laugh as it struck the wall on the opposite side of room. Neill joined me in my laughter. "Someone's eager," I teased, repeating his own words of a day ago. I let my lips wander over his face as his hands stroked my back. In an unexpected move, my warm tongue lapped the ticklish hollow beneath his earlobe, a place where I knew touch sent shivers running down his spine.

"Not eager, just..." Neill whispered, softly gripping the thick muscle above my shoulder with his teeth.

He knew me well. Small, tingling explosions of pleasure radiated through my flesh. I moaned into his neck. "Just what?"

My cellphone, placed somewhere beneath something on my side of the room (as in, I had no idea where it was), began to chirrup the annoyingly bright ringtone I had set it to a few days earlier. "Fuck!" It had to be seven or eight in the morning. Nobody with any sense rings at that hour.

"Jesus, what the fuck is that?" Neill growled.

"I'd better answer it," I said, struggling out of his grip. I walked across the room, my hard cock bobbing through the black cotton-lycra of my tight boxers. "Could be a client." 'Worse,' I thought, 'it could be that something has gone wrong with Dad.' I don't know why I thought that, but when someone rings that early, something must be up.

The phone was buried in the pocket of a pair of trackpants I had been wearing the day before. A local number that I didn't recognise flashed across the screen. At least that ruled out anything concerning Dad. I flipped it open. "Hello?"

A gruff male voice asked, "Fraser, that you?" (Fraser is my surname).

"Yeah," I answered. "Who's this?"

"John Prentice. Sorry to ring so early but we've got to sort some stuff out. No doubt you're already up?" Prentice was my rugby coach. That he was calling me at all was a good sign. Perhaps there was some truth in what Nathan had told me about Coach wanting to keep the Disciplinary Committee out of my fight with Liam.

"Of course, Coach." I shot a look to Neill, who was intently staring at me from the bed. He smiled and ran a hand through the mass of golden hair standing from the firm muscles of his chest. I felt a rush of heat shoot through my body - need, want, desire.

Prentice had continued to talk while I studied Neill's body. I hadn't really been listening. "You there, Seamus?" he barked. That brought me back to earth.

"Yes," I replied. "Still here."

"Get your head out of the clouds, boy, and answer the damned question."

Neill started to pinch at his delightfully hard nipples. I reluctantly turned away as he poked his tongue out at me. "Question?"

"Injuries from the fight, Fraser. What you got?"

"A few bruises, strained muscles, nothing much," I answered.

"Liam has two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a broken nose," Coach said, gruffly. "The doctors say he won't be able to play for a few weeks without risking further damage. The idea of having to find two new players as good as you two, even among our subs, this near the Cup, is a fucking nightmare. So I discussed it with the University and my assistants and you're gonna be able to play for us again. For the amount of fucking damage you've caused to Liam's person, you should be before Disciplinary, if not before the police. This is a big chance for you, so don't mess it up. Now I don't give a flying fuck what you were fighting over but don't you ever do it again with anyone, because if you do, I will make damn sure that you are not on my team to fuck it up for the rest of them. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cut the shit, Fraser. Get your arse down to the physio department and make sure everything's working as well as it should be. I want you to be fit enough to play in the next game, understand? Practise is tomorrow. You will come and apologise to Liam and the rest of the team in a satisfactory manner. If you don't, you can forget all this, 'cause your sorry arse will be before Disciplinary and off the team. You understand?"

"Perfectly," I replied. Coach Prentice had a way of putting people on the spot and making them squirm before he crushed them. It was useless to argue with him, better to just listen to what he had to say and not complain. That he was giving me any sort of chance was a wonder in itself. I was angry that Liam was going to get away with everything he had done, but anger would get me nowhere. Not being able to play rugby for a few games was a good punishment for him, though I didn't doubt that he was going to get his own back somehow. I know I should have said something about Liam's sexual harassment, because that's what it was, but Prentice was a gruff, rough, man's man and there was no way in hell I'd subject myself and my sexuality to any kind of scrutiny by him. I'd heard all too many of his racist, sexist, bigoted jokes to believe he would treat me terribly kindly.

"Good," Prentice snapped. "I have no time or place for hotheads on my team. You always struck me as a sensible bloke, so use your fucking sensibility and keep that proud nose of yours out of the shit, got it?"

"Of course, coach," I said.

"I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he hung up. I flicked the phone shut and turned to Neill.

"I'm back on the team," I told him. I explained the conversation, including having to apologise to Liam. "And, Liam's not going to be able to play for a bit because I broke his ribs."

Neill took a second or two to reply. The muscles of his face tensed unnaturally as he tried to pull off a smile while his brow was furrowed. "I suppose that's a good thing," he said, softly. "I know how much being part of the university team means to you and your ambitions, but what are you going to do if Liam comes after you again? You're on the team as long as you behave. What if he makes it so you can't behave? I know you're not going let him touch you or do any of that shit he was trying to pull last night, but what happens if he does? If you can't hit him, then what the fuck are you going to do?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't know. I'll just have to stay out of his way. If I make sure I'm never in the position to be alone with him, then I'll be alright." I sunk down on the mattress beside him, my feet hanging off to brush the floor.

He watched me with a wary expression on his face, or at least I thought so. "Well, you know what I want to do, however impractical it might be."

"Beat the shit out of Liam?" I asked. Neill nodded, chuckling slightly. "I'm glad that you've decided that it's not a possibility. You were pretty angry last night."

"I had every right to be angry! I love you, and to see you getting hurt like that- it's just disgusting," Neill snapped. "I just hate to see him getting away with this shit. You aren't the first person he's done this to and if someone doesn't do something about it, you won't be the last either. I know that we can't beat him up and I know that you don't want to report him, I just don't know what the hell else we can do."

"Maybe we should just let sleeping dogs lie," I said. "We can decide what to do when Liam makes his next move." Neill's face had a somewhat crestfallen expression. The anger seemed to have faded to a hostile acceptance of the facts. I thought his eyes shone a little more than usual, but it could have been the way the morning light caught them. His right fist was gripping the sheet so tightly that his knuckles were white. I gently brought my own hand down on his and stroked the tension away. "I'm sure everything will be alright."

Neill smiled. "Of course it will be." He leant over and kissed my cheek as his hand cupped the back of my head to pull me close. "Everything will be fine."

We lay back on the bed, kissing ardently. His lips plucked at mine as his tongue darted into the velvety warmth of my mouth. Our saliva laced with the twining of our tongues. Prickly heat shot over my sweaty skin as my heart missed a beat. "I love you," I whispered. "I think I have loved you since I first saw you." I remembered sitting nervously on my hard new bed, waiting for my new roommate. Neill had strolled in like he owned the place, a smile that could light a room adorning his face. He extended his warm hand, making some quip about what a shit room we had wound up with. I felt instantly at ease around him. He always seemed able to bring out the best in me. "As I've gotten to know you, the love has grown so much. I can't believe how good you've been to me and how happy you make me feel every time I look at you." The words that I had wanted to say the night before flooded to the surface, yet once again, they didn't feel strong enough to describe the depth of emotion in my heart.

I had a lot of regret regarding what had happened the night before. I felt like we had had a cheap fuck, when what I had really wanted was to make love. All the shouting and gasping about how big Neill's cock was and how much I wanted a hard fuck had clouded or distorted my true intent. I lost control with Neill that night, just as I always did. The passion took over and raw energy rushed through me, spilling out of my mouth in a series of easily crude words. I couldn't stop my body moving harder and faster, thrusting forward to feel every inch of Neill's body in me, around me, running through my veins and filling the dark recesses of my most intimate parts. I loved him; he became a part of me. I needed him, everywhere at once, so that I knew that he was really with me and it wasn't just another dream.

Love was there, beating strongly in my heart and pulsing through my veins, but I couldn't speak my feelings! After all the agony of believing that Neill did not feel the same way, I was the one that could only say the words when he prompted me with his own declaration. I don't know why that happened, I suppose it is easier to yell out, "Fuck me hard!" than "I love you! I never want to let you go!" Saying "I love you" bares you to the soul and makes you feel vulnerable to hurt from the person who could hurt you the most, the one you love. I realise now how hard it was for Neill to say.

Being caught yelling, "Fill my arse with your big long cock!" by Nathan opened me up to another form of vulnerability, the fear of ridicule. Nate was a very old friend and I did care what he thought, but whatever happened, I loved Neill and others would have to like it or lump it. No skin off my nose either way. I was less worried about Nate's opinion than I was by the way Neill had taken being caught in the act. His words had been short and terse when we went to bed, yet he'd slipped quickly into sleep, as if there wasn't really anything on his mind.

My mind was completely distracted when Neill smiled that beautiful smile. "I'm not one for describing my feelings particularly well, but-" I saw his bright blue eyes flicker from their focus on mine for a second as if he was searching for the right words. His warm hand stroked over my morning-furred cheek. "I love you, Seamus. You're the first person I've allowed this close to me. I've always felt scared about letting anybody know... how messed up, I am, I suppose. You seem to be able to stop me doing stupid stuff, and I'm not saying you're a glorified nanny, it's more that you sort of know what I'm thinking and can talk me down. I don't normally listen to anyone, except Jill, and she doesn't know everything. I don't talk about myself much, you know, emotional stuff, but I do love you. I want you to know that I always will." He kissed either side of my face, burying the warm swell of his lips in my neck. Hearing those words knocked all the breath from my lungs and sent my heart beating in overdrive.

Gently I stroked my fingers through his hair, causing him to raise his head until it was a breath's distance from mine. I could taste all his scents, the fruity kick of his shampoo, the stale tang of yesterday's aftershave, coupled with a masculine, musky sweatiness. His hair framed our faces, the ends brushing against my skin. "Look at me, Neill," I whispered. Excited, nervous blood pounded through my body. I could hear it drum between my ears, feel it throbbing at my pulse points and in the head of my frantically engorged erection. You require energy and faith to talk from your soul. Protecting your soul are a series of masks; reflections of what people want you to be, what you have to be, what you think you need to be. To allow somebody close enough to see you without those defences takes a lot of strength. I found telling Neill that I loved him to be the most frightening and exhilarating thing that I had ever done. I definitely wanted him to know, but all the same... it was scary.

Neill watched me with a slightly agitated expression on his face. His bottom lip trembled in a terribly inviting manner. I realised then that I could crush him just by saying the wrong thing; it wasn't just my feelings that were at stake anymore. The sensation of his firm hands on my shoulders lent me strength. We were in this together. I took a deep breath and finished my sentence, "I love you so much, and I'm glad that you feel the same, but I got to tell you some stuff. I'm scared. I don't want to be judged or abused by the people around me for being myself. But the more I think about that, the more I know that if people are my friends, they aren't going to reject us. I'm more scared of hurting you than I am of what people think. I don't want to do something stupid and wreck what we've got. I don't want to imagine what it would be like to not have you near me. I was so scared of telling you that I loved you because I thought-" I floundered. I couldn't voice the fears that had been kicking my emotions through my mind. I was so glad when Neill took up where I had left off. He was the only person that understood exactly where I was coming from. I just wish he'd been able to share that tiny piece of him that he held back - that scared, bleeding boy who was unjustifiably guilty and didn't believe he deserved to be loved at all. If only I had known...

Neill whispered, "You thought that I wouldn't want you as much as you wanted me. You thought I'd reject you and it would ruin our friendship, because to you it was only casual sex. The fact that I said I loved you and you didn't return my feelings would always be hovering there between us. You would become so uncomfortable around me that you would pack your bags and shift out. If I saw you again, you wouldn't want to talk to me or even worse, you would, and we'd have one of those awkward, sterile conversations. It would feel so cold and horrible to have to face you when you didn't feel anything for me. That's how I felt and it messed with my head like crazy.

"I lied to myself, first that I didn't have any feelings for you and wasn't attracted to you. Then I lied to myself that it was just sex and we'd both get past it. It was never just sex. I felt- I feel like my heart's gonna explode every time I touch you or look at you. It scared the shit out of me for ages. I've never felt that way before; if I did, I would probably have had myself checked for a heart condition ages ago. Before you came along, I'd never worried so much about hurting someone. I was a love-em-and-leave-em kind of person. I didn't want anybody anywhere near me and I certainly didn't want somebody in my head! It's uncomfortable enough with Jill trying to second-guess my every move. But you're different, you're my friend and I trust you like I can't trust other people. I love you! I- I've never sat watching somebody sleep for five or six hours, so spellbound that I couldn't even pick up a book and so concerned that I thought just looking at you might make you better," Neill whispered. The glittering trail of tears on his cheek mirrored my own brimming eyes.