A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 01

He shivered again, rocking himself back and forth miserably.

"Come on," the older man told him kindly, putting a careful arm around his shoulders. "Have something to eat. Or at least a hot drink, and get some sleep. I'll help you through it. I promise."

He got half a cup of hot tea into the boy before Rayne bolted for the bathroom, with no idea of where it was. Once the young man had stopped retching on his kitchen floor, Ant gave up the uneven struggle and put him to bed, where he nursed the lad with brandy and hot water. Rayne slept for a while after that, giving the older fellow the opportunity to clear up.

An inspection of the boy's rucksack yielded up a few more items of wet clothing which he also washed through and hung by the stove to dry, some cigarette papers and little bit of rolling tobacco, an ebony kohl eye pencil, a bottle of black nail polish and some vaseline lip-balm in a small, round tin. There were a few coins in his jeans pockets and the bottom of the bag, totalling one pound and fifty seven pence. In the guitar case was a battered Fender bass, strung for a left-handed player, some amp cables and another two pounds twenty in change. There was also a note pad in which someone had scribbled reams of random lyrics and odd little diary-style reflections in spiky purple pencil. In the back of the pad were a handful of crumpled photographs of a beautiful-looking woman in her mid twenties perhaps. In one she was holding hands with a smaller, wiry, tousle-headed fellow who looked as proud as a peacock to be with her, unsurprisingly. There was a look of his current guest about both of them and he suspected that the couple were Rayne's parents. None of the pictures seemed very recent. The styles worn by the subjects were definitely late sixties to early seventies. Other photos depicted either one or the other of them and a pair of children in various holiday poses; a boy and girl, both dark-haired, cherub-faced and green-eyed. He put them back carefully and flicked through the notebook, his eye caught by the crudely scribbled line; All three of them had massive dicks. Before the morning I did them all six or seven times. I had never cum so hard or swallowed so much spunk.

The words 'massive' and 'never' were underlined firmly, twice.

It was late when he finished reading the whole notebook. It took a while because he paused to masturbate from time to time. When he could get his pants fastened, he went to check on the narrator. The young man was almost angelic when sleeping. He was sprawled on the big bed in the narrow confines of the bow. Occasionally he tossed and turned and the blankets were rucked up around him. There was a light sweat on his forehead and his naked chest and belly. Ant stood in the doorway and watched him for a while, frustrated by the tempting, untouchable presence in his bed. After reading his diary, a part of him wanted to get in with the boy and make out with him urgently until he woke, but he was still unsure if his young guest would welcome such a direct approach. As he watched, the youth writhed free of his blankets and rolled onto his back. He had shaved balls and about seven inches of nice, half-hard cock. Ant wondered idly what Rayne would do if he woke to find his rescuer's mouth wrapped around that sexy young prick. For about ten minutes he lingered in the doorway, waiting to see if the younger man would masturbate in his sleep. When Rayne just rolled over onto his belly, he finally pulled the blankets back up around his body and went for a cold shower and another good, hard wank.

MORNING:

"Eww... I stink!" Rayne wandered in from the bedroom as Ant was making breakfast. He had slept through the night and now appeared like a dishevelled vision in the doorway, clutching the blanket to his crotch with one hand whilst inspecting the opposite armpit disgustedly.

"That's a good sign, you must be feeling better," his host told him cheerfully, even though he had spent the night on the less than substantial couch.

"What? Because I smell?" Those beautiful, icy eyes surveyed him cynically.

"Because you noticed!" Ant corrected, pointing across the corridor to a small, wooden door. "Bathroom's through there. Water's hot. Go and take a shower then let's see if I can tempt you."

Fine dark brows lifted enquiringly. Ant gestured towards the fry up in the pan.

"Breakfast."

"I don't eat meat," Rayne said loftily and disappeared into the bathroom.

Ant made himself something to eat and settled down to enjoy it as a distraction from the very stimulating idea that there was a gorgeous, naked young male soaping his slippery, wet body in the next room. He contemplated sneaking into the steamy bathroom to see if he could spy on Rayne in the shower for a while. The idea just gave him a hard-on that put him off his food. According to the account in his notebook, Rayne had certainly eaten plenty of meat in the past, all washed down with pints of hot, creamy spunk.

In the bathroom, Rayne had discovered a distraction of quite a different kind. He had noticed that the little room contained ledges with various soaps and toilet utensils but also a number of strange, elongated sculptures. When he first entered the room, he paid them no heed. The shower was his primary objective and the water felt incredibly good after the lost weekend (and half week) he had just been through. The withdrawal shakes were not as bad this morning and he lingered over the business of washing his hair and body. The shower cubicle occupied one end of the bathroom and was tiled from floor to ceiling in black rubber, with a curving glass screen dividing it from the rest of the room. There were intriguing metal eyelets screwed at intervals into the floor and the low roof overhead. After he had towelled himself down and wrapped the bath sheet around his waist, he borrowed a toothbrush and scrubbed his teeth until his gums bled. Then, feeling weak from the heat and the exertion, he sat down on the toilet seat to catch his breath.

Now the sculptures took his eye again and he studied the nearest one more closely. At first he thought they were just curious, knobbly stalagmite type objects, put around the place as decorations, but a more detailed inspection left him with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. The one by the side of the WC had a perfectly shaped helm with a little slit and single eye, and a ridge just beneath the glossy head where the foreskin had been rolled back. It even had a little rough patch on the downward curve of the glans where the frenulum should be. He touched it gently with his fingertips, expecting it to be cold and hard but it felt firm and warm instead, the material as soft and yielding as skin. Carefully he took it down from the shelf and held it in both hands, stroking it experimentally. It was flexible like rubber but very soft to touch, almost like a real cock and, he thought ironically, he ought to know. It was a good nine or ten inches long and he could only just get his forefinger and thumb around it at the base.

Feeling mischievous, he bent his head and wrapped his lips around the glans to find out what it tasted like. The flavour was slightly rubbery but no worse than sucking an erect cock in a decent-quality condom. Rayne had always enjoyed giving head. Since discovering how to pleasure himself, he had invariably been turned on by the idea of having a man's erect penis in his mouth. Before starting University, he often bunked college and went up to London for the day, where he would sometimes ride up and down on the tube trains for hours, checking out men and women. He liked sitting opposite men in their late twenties and thirties, looking at the way their crotches bulged; trying to decide how big their cocks were and imagining what it would be like to kneel in front of them and blow them whilst the other occupants of the carriage watched and stroked themselves.

Boldly now, he swallowed four or five inches of dildo and sucked on it, stroking his lips up and down the shaft then trying to get a little more and a little more into his mouth without gagging. He was deep-throating about seven inches and had a nice erection of his own poking out through the gap in the towel, when Ant slipped quietly into the bathroom to check that he was all right.

The sound of running water had been silent for about ten minutes and there was still no sign of Rayne when Ant came back from the bedroom where he had been ostensibly making the bed. In reality he had been lying with his face pressed into the bedcovers inhaling the sweaty, musky scent of the boy's naked crotch as he rubbed his aching penis. Having relieved some of his tension with that quick, hand-shandy, he decided to check up on the kid in case he had passed out or something.

Rayne's dark head shot up with a natural speed born of guilt as he realised, too late, that he was not alone. Ant had been watching him for several seconds as he sucked on the dildo with his eyes closed and his prick standing to attention, making little 'mmmmmm' noises of appreciation as he tried to swallow all nine and half inches. A string of saliva clung briefly between his lower lip and the shiny dome of the latex cock in his hand, then snapped and fell like gossamer across his naked body as he tried to hide what he had been up to. As he struggled to cover himself again, the towel fell open completely and he was left half-standing, stark naked with an impressive hard-on and a well-sucked dildo in his hand.

He was panting with shock, eyes wide. "Don't you ever knock?"

"This 'is' my boat. I thought you might need some help but you seem to be doing okay on your own," Ant responded mischievously. "You like my toys then?"

Rayne swallowed, the colour rising to his pale cheeks and making him look incredibly cute. He put the dildo back on its shelf and groped for the towel but Ant said; "It's all right, you can leave it. You look great like that."

"I'm... I'm not..." Rayne faltered breathlessly, still grabbing the towel and pulling it back over his stubbornly persistent erection. "I just wondered... and then I... I didn't mean anything by it!"

"That's a shame," Ant replied, still smiling calmly although his own pulse was pounding in the head of his hard dick again. "I make them you know. It's nice to find out that they give people pleasure. I liked watching you use it, Rayne. You seemed to enjoy it as well."

The younger man blushed again, looking away. "I'm not gay," he said insistently. "I mean, I've got a girlfriend. I like fucking girls. I just wondered what it would be like..."

"To suck a man's cock?" Ant finished for him.

Rayne nodded, still refusing to look at him.

"You've never sucked a cock before?" he probed, a little sceptically, thinking back to the notebook. "You looked pretty good at it, from what I just saw. That one's one of mine, by the way. I get guys to model them for me, or I just make them from casts of my own hard-on. "

The boy was trying to hide behind his hair now. He shook his head, unable to speak. Slowly, Ant came towards him and caressed his cheek, lifting Rayne's head, making the young man meet his eyes.

"You got me going, there. I was loving watching you suck my dick," he whispered, watching the boy blush again furiously. "I read your diary last night when you were out of it," he added with a knowing smile. "You're quite a dirty boy, aren't you Rayne Wilde?"

Rayne's eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open, embarrassed and indignant. "That's private! You went through my private stuff?"

"Sshhh," Ant responded, touching his fingers to the pretty youth's soft lips and keeping them there. "I read a lovely description in there of how much you enjoyed entertaining three big hard cocks. Five lovely, stiffy-inducing pages of you taking it at both ends and how you couldn't stop cumming. It worked for me!"

For a moment, the boy just stared at him. He shuddered again, but this time Ant sensed some fear in him. Rayne was about a half-head shorter than him and in this moment of intimacy seemed painfully conscious of the fact that his rescuer was taller and probably stronger right now.

"Was that real or just a fantasy?" he asked, when Rayne remained stubbornly mute. "I can't stop thinking about you doing all that hot, dirty stuff with them." He smiled, still stroking the young man's pale, startled face; touching his lips and brushing back the fall of his damp, tangled hair. "You seemed to be quite turned on by the idea of sucking them all off. Did my toys remind you of that lovely session, eh?"

"It...it's just a story," Rayne faltered at last, pushing his hand away decisively.

"You've got a hot imagination," Ant complimented him. "How much research did you do?"

"Leave me alone." The lad was glaring at him now. "I've had it up to here with pervs like you lot! Just give me my fuckin' clothes back and let me go!"

Ant threw his hands up in surrender, turning away at once before the young man could see how that remark stung. Clearly the boy had problems, but he was an artisan, not a psychiatrist. Even a good fuck with something as pretty as Rayne was not worth fielding a world of insults.

"They're not dry yet," he said flatly, letting himself out of the bathroom and shutting the door between them firmly. "Put your towel back on and stop waving that boner at me if you're not going to let me feel it."

He cleared away the breakfast things in sullen silence and Rayne took his time coming out of the bathroom. When he did, the boy did not even meet his eyes. The towel lay flat against his crotch, so Ant guessed that he'd either waited for his hard-on to subside, or quietly beaten his meat for several minutes after he was left alone. He went to the maiden and checked on the state of his jeans with a scowl. They were still stiff and heavy with moisture, even so Ant could see him deliberate whether or not to just put them on and walk out. To help the kid make up his mind he opened the interior blinds to demonstrate the thick blanket of ice-crusted snow that still shrouded his boat.

"It's still coming down," he pointed out. "You can go out and make snow-angels if you like though."

Rayne said nothing. He took himself back into the bedroom and closed the door. Finally, Ant heaved a sigh and followed him in there. Without looking at the youngster he opened a drawer beneath the bed and pulled out a pair of grey cotton jogging pants with a drawstring waist and a black, baggy tee shirt. He tossed them onto the bed and said; "You can wear these until your stuff is dry, if it makes you feel more comfortable."

"When the fuck does it snow in May, anyway?" the younger man muttered finally, shaking his dark head. He reached for the proffered garments however, pulling on the tee gratefully and turning his back before dropping the towel to wriggle into the pants quickly and pull the drawstring tight.

"It's June." Ant said distractedly, watching out of the corner of his eye as his guest rose from the edge of the bed to pull those loose joggers up over his perky, white bum cheeks.

Sharp, cynical, dark-ringed, green eyes moved to meet his own as Rayne turned. He looked good, even in mismatched scruffs; even half-starved and in the end stages of cold-turkey.

"Bollocks, it's not!"

"When'd you walk out again?" Ant shook his head incredulously as the boy's certain stare wavered.

Rayne's acid glare dropped; he stared at his hands, looking at himself as if he saw his body for the first time. Briefly Ant worried. One heard about Heroin doing stuff to peoples' minds.

"I dunno... it was about the twentieth of May... I remember thinkin'... it was nearly Si's birthday..." He lifted his head, meeting Ant's concerned gaze.

"It's the second of June," the older man told him quietly. "Are you telling me that you've been sleeping rough for over a week?"

"I dunno..." Rayne was shaking again. He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," Ant told him apologetically. He came around and sat next to the youngster, feeling at a loss to comfort him without touching him, which might only send him off on another rant. "You've no idea how long you've been out on the streets have you?"

"I'm....I'm.... I... I don't know." Tears shimmered on the ends of his long eyelashes and Ant hesitated then lifted a hand and rested it on the back of his neck. At once, the young man twisted away from him as though his touch was scalding.

"Don't...!" he exhaled, unable to look at Ant. He was shaking uncontrollably, though his skin felt very warm.

"I'm not gonna rape you," Ant promised, wondering if it was a promise that he could keep. He grinned weakly, adding; "I'd like to, but I won't. Okay? Y'know... I just walked in and saw you with your lips around that dildo and... it got me hot. I'm sorry. You're a gorgeous lad, you know?"

Rayne said nothing. He reached out picked up the towel, folding it distractedly into smaller and smaller squares. At last, Ant extended a hand and took the bath-sheet off him. "You can talk about it, you know," he suggested carefully. "I'm not stupid. Even I can figure out that this John bloke was getting' his end away with you. We're not all like him though."

Rayne's head was still down. His blond-tipped hair hung around his face, hiding his expression and his feelings, but Ant could see plainly enough that he was unhappy. He was still shivering. Ant laid a careful hand on the back of his neck again, tensed to move it if Rayne lashed out. When the boy did not pull away this time, he moved his fingers in reassuring circles there, recalling that Rayne had mentioned in his diary fantasy how much he liked to be touched in this erogenous zone. (...along with his nipples and a sensitive spot just inside the crack of his arse, behind his anal orifice. Ant looked forward to finding out with his tongue just how sensitive that latter zone was.)

"You know, if your boyfriend was getting rough with you, you don't have to put up with it. You can get help, even if you can't take it from me," he whispered, leaning a little closer.

The young man looked up at him, his solemn gaze utterly unreadable. For a moment, his face was inches from Ant's own. Ant licked his lips, wondering if he dared to try and kiss Rayne whilst he was in such a confused state of mind. Would it help? Would it make things worse?

"You bloody fuckwit!" the lad exclaimed softly and derisively, making him sit back and blink in astonishment. "Johnno wasn't my fuckin' boyfriend! You reckon I'm totally hard up or somethin'? He wasn't my boyfriend, he was my fuckin' pimp!"

Ant stared at him, completely taken aback by this admission.

"Oh..." he exhaled weakly, his hand falling into his lap.

"Yeah... Oh!" Rayne laughed coarsely at the expression on his face. "Not so keen to bang me now you know that you've gotta pay for it, are you?"

"I don't... I didn't mean that," Ant protested. He was still shocked by the idea that this sharp, clever, pretty kid could be so cynical when he had already managed to fuck up his life in such spectacular fashion. Twenty years old! Good God! "Why didn't you say something before?"

"You think I'm proud of sellin' my bum for a living?" Rayne flashed back, still laughing caustically to cover the naked hurt in his eyes. "Look, I only did it to start with cos I'd nowhere to live and no fuckin' money. I reckoned I could get out of it after a few weeks, but then there was the Speed to pay for, and when that got borin', there was Cocaine. It was like, every time I thought I was getting straight with him, I'd go on a bender and wind up owing him more money." He stopped to catch his breath, those beautiful, vulnerable eyes wide and a little bit manic. "So he got me more tricks, and then I wanted more drugs, 'cos doin' these tricks for him was blowing my mind. And then I got hurt, cos this bloody huge psycho that had been involved in a gang bang with me the week before decided he wanted some more. And he found out where I was livin' and jumped me on the way back one night then kept me tied up and gagged in a warehouse on the end of a fuckin' chain for three days while he screwed the livin' hell out of me! I only got away cos some night workman outside heard me screamin' while he was bangin' my balls off and came in to find out what was goin' on. So, after I get back John gives me a bit of Junk to calm me down and a bit turns into a bit more and... and... I've been goin' crazy this last month. I feel like I'm climbin' the walls. I'm not in control any more and... and... and...I dunno what day it is even..."