Seamus Ch. 05

"Course." He shrugged.

"Your feet stink," I groaned.

"And I was being so nice to you," Neill mocked.

"Sorry. You have been so nice to me, lover."

Neill gave me a light shove, like he was afraid I might break if he pushed any harder. "What'd you expect? That I let you lie here all battered up and probably half-comatose? I watched you almost all day to make sure you didn't choke on your tongue or anything like that. I knew you'd be shitty, that's why I didn't wake you sooner. You're still shitty. Guess that empty head does have something to bruise after all."

I pushed him back. He was so relaxed that his head banged against the wall. "Sorry." I said, for the shove. "Don't be mean." For the comment.

Neill shoved me again, this time harder. When I gasped he asked, "That hurt? Good. Don't be an arsehole... I rang the pharmacy to check out those pills you took this morning. You're supposed to be tired. I'm just not sure whether they meant this tired. They said you may sleep a lot if you're not used to taking stuff, which you aren't, because of the regulations around your sport. By the way, these won't affect that... How are the muscles? Bruises?"

"Sore," I said.

"You're supposed to be able to take the meds every four hours, if needed, but I don't think you need anymore."

"That's great, nurse."

"Doctor sounds better."

"Okay, doctor then. Whatever."

Neill smiled. "Whatever. Jill was in before, quirky as hell and spitting tacks now she's found out that you bashed Liam. She wanted to wake you up, but I wouldn't let her, said you were too smashed. I didn't think you'd want to talk to her. You're pissed over that thing with Nate, right?"

"Yeah, a bit. My boyfriend made me sit through an hour and a half's breakfast listening to the guy tell me how great my ex is in bed," I told him, grudgingly.

Sleep had mellowed me a bit. I had lost the edge of my anger at Liam and Nate. Things were looking up, I was still 'in' my rugby team, if I knuckled under a bit. I suppose I was sort of grateful to Nathan and the other guys for having a go at our coach. The specifics of what had happened during the fight, and the damage to my car, were pushed to the back of my mind. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to deal with it.

"Still want to kill Nate, right?" Neill gave me a knowing smile and patted my hand. Not this again, I thought. I though we'd worked it out that morning... or had I dreamed that part?

"Nah, I'm good," I said. "But he'll lose his balls if he messes her around."

He was quiet for a patch, maybe a minute or more. It was an easy silence. I felt too zonked to connect ideas and come up with an actual sentence, Neill just seemed tired. After all, he had been up half the night checking my eyes, and the amount of sex we had had wasn't normal, even for two college boys. Our only point of skin contact was his hand on my arm. It wasn't hot or sweaty, just normal. "She seemed ashamed of it, like she didn't think it should have happened."

It shouldn't have made me feel so relieved. "Yeah?" I asked.

"But then, she seemed happy enough. Jill does overanalyse and obsess about everything. She's training to be a shrink, after all."

"Yeah." I wasn't sure whether he meant it and whether I agreed or not.

More silence. Less comfortable this time, or at least I felt that way. I watched his face for a bit, trying to figure out what he was really thinking. I wanted to say that he didn't have to be jealous, but I wasn't sure whether it was true or not.

Neill shook. "What you staring at?"

I couldn't help but smile at him, like a kid who's just seen a balloon for the first time. All thought channels switched off. My heart pumped steadily. "Something ugl- No seriously, you," I replied.

"Quit staring," Neill snapped, then smirked.

I leant in and tentatively kissed his mouth. When he responded vigorously, I pulled away and then returned quickly for round two. Once again, he got hot and heavy fast. "Stay still," I whispered, and flicked a fingertip under his chin.

"Oh, all right," he grumbled. I placed my palms either side of his jaw, and stroked my fingers over his skin. I drew his face in. His blue eyes stared into mine, fathomless as the ocean on a fine day. He tried to stop blinking, causing a tear to trickle down one cheek. After that, his eyes flickered open and closed quickly to make up for the delay, eyelashes meshing like a new butterfly pumping its wings.

Neill's hot breath, laced with onions, garlic, something else, drifted into my nose and mouth. Agonisingly slowly, my tongue ran a hairline over the contours of his soft lips. Enough of this romance crap, I thought, and thrust my hot muscle into his mouth. He sucked me in, entrapping me with his own wet tongue. His head tilted to lock me. I fought, sweeping my lips over his, and plucking him with the smooth inside of my lower lip. My hands frantically grasped his hair, forcing our mouths together.

I dropped one hand from his head and ran it lightly down his chest. I could feel the bulges of his muscles through the folds of his light t-shirt. The heating was on, but he still seemed to have goosebumps. I rummaged with his fly. He'd changed his cum-stained jeans to cords. Button-down, damn it. I had to break our kiss to play with the bloody buttons. His meat was loose in the silky lining of the corduroy fabric. Neill made no sound, apart from deep breathing.

My fingertips stroked his length, causing his prick to perk up almost immediately. I hadn't noticed before that whilst partially erect (very, very partially), his cock was just under half its fully engorged length and as pale as the untanned skin of his groin and butt. It was amazing to see how much he grew, as trapped blood flushed his cock red. I didn't think that was possible. Whilst my hands were otherwise engaged, Neill hooked his wrists behind my neck and pressed his lips to mine, forcing my mouth open and dragging his teeth along my tongue, as I had that morning. I pushed back, stabbing him in return and ensnaring his mouth with mine. Our tongues tied together, whilst hot saliva pooled between our clashing lips.

Suddenly, I had to pull away. I took a deep breath, down to my belly, and my mouth involuntarily stretched to its widest in a giant yawn. As always, if you yawn once, you have to yawn again, which I did. Then two of those half yawns where your jaw locks open but your mouth doesn't widen to its full extent and your nostrils flare. "Sorry," I murmured, mid-yawn.

Neill slapped his hand on my shoulder. "You horny bastard, behave yourself, you've just woken up. Perhaps we should get you walking around the room a little, wake you up, circulate the blood, before we do anything else. I'll get you something solid to eat, like bread or something."

I squeezed the base of his cock, causing the rest of his shaft to quiver and burn. "There's something solid here." I tried to move down the bed a little and felt my back shriek. I coughed involuntarily, more a hiccup than a cough, which set my chest muscles spasming. I had to clasp an arm to my chest, stupidly trying to force the pain to stop.

"Behave yourself, Seamus," Neill muttered and prised my fingers apart. "You're in no fit state."

"Yes, doctor."

He cracked a smile, but didn't shove me, though it was one of those looks on his face. "Shuddup with that crap."

"Okay," I croaked.

We sat still for a moment. I stared at his cock and imagined how smooth and hot it would feel in my mouth. My pants started to tent a little, just thinking. Neill's prick grew before my eyes, burning with the knowledge that I was watching him. I gave a moan of disappointment when he tried to cover it with his pants and t-shirt. My eyes flashed to his face. He gave me an evil smile. "Seriously man, you need to get up and walk around. Have something to eat, probably go to the toilet. You must've slept 10 hours. That can be very relaxing, but you told me this morning that your muscles will clamp up if you don't keep them warm and stretched. So get out of bed."

"Fine."

The pain was less fiery this time, more a solid ache all over. There were a few nervy muscles, in my back and torso, which jolted my entire body when stressed. Less than the morning, though. "Okay, let's see some laps," Neill teased. "Around the room to each corner or nearest piece of furniture, twice."

"You're getting off on this, you mean bastard," I grumbled.

Neill chuckled. "Course I am." He dropped his pants and flashed his cock at me, balls swinging, before slipping on a pair of loose sports pants and a longish fleece jacket. "Keep moving. I'm going to check my locker in the floor kitchen, find something for you to eat."

He came back with a honey sandwich and some crackers. "Sorry, man. I forgot I'd run out of a lot of food. I've got some cans, but other than that, this is pretty much all I have left."

"Thanks," I murmured. "You can get some stuff out of mine if you get hungry, seeing as I've eaten yours."

We sat on the floor for a bit, while I ate. "You had tea?"

"Yeah, be glad you missed it. Brown broccoli, sliced leeks boiled to snot, deep-fried 'fish' aka solid batter, and potatoes. Thank god they can't muck up cooking spuds. I don't think I'd survive if they did."

"You still hungry?" I asked. Before he could answer I had torn a piece of sandwich off and shoed it through his lips. He refused the next piece. "No. You've only had McDonalds today, you gotta eat something."

"Fine," I said.

"Stop moaning."

Mid-bite. "I'm not moaning."

"Yes you are. You shouldn't be moaning, boyfriend." That had us in stitches. This was so unreal. I couldn't really believe that it was happening.

Eventually nature called and I headed to the toilets. I told Neill I'd be all right, but in reality, my blood pressure was pretty low and the dancing stars in my eyes didn't go away like I had hoped.

*

Damn it, I should have asked Neill to come with me. I was light-headed and sweating profusely by the time I was halfway along the hall. I stopped once, leaning to the wall to support my aching muscles. After that I shuffled on. I had a quick conversation to Harry as I passed the kitchen. I should have asked him for help, but was too embarrassed to admit I needed help getting to the toilet.

I saw Liam go into his room, moving with more ease than I was. Bastard. Even so, it was gratifying to see that one of eyes was half shut, the other nestled in bruises. Stitches below his lip and eyebrow. His nose was purple across the bridge, but wasn't taped, so it can't have broken. His left forearm and wrist were wrapped with a compression bandage.

Needless to say, I walked as fast as I could. My aching, stabbing muscular pain and dizzy head were forgotten. The toilet door was hurriedly pulled shut and locked behind me. I gasped for air, claustrophobic in the one by two metre room. My white knuckled fingers supported me on the grimy taps of the sink opposite the doorway.

For the first time, I saw the damage Liam had done. It wasn't too bad. My right eye had escaped a direct blow; there was only slight bruising along the pad of my cheekbone. He'd grazed the left side of my face with the spikes on his boot, leaving my cheek and forehead a little raw. It could've been much worse. Lucky for me I diverted his foot or moved my head. I can't remember exactly what I did. The skin around my left eye was shiny and red from a fist, but not particularly swollen. At the hospital, they had partially shaved my eyebrow to make room for four sutures (the sort that break down in two weeks and don't need removing) and some of those white strips of tape. The wound had wept and looked a little yellow and crusty around the edge.

My lips weren't split, my nose not bruised or broken.

I ran the taps, then decided that while a splash of cold water might help my headache, it would make my skin burn with fire. When I felt like I was okay, I moved to the toilet and got my dick out. Dizziness swept over me again, a wave of heat and flashing vision. It lessened when I went leant forward and supported myself with one hand next to the flusher. Then returned with a vengeance. I felt my body start to crumble, and I saved myself on the bowl. Shit.

I crawled onto the toilet seat. My muscles hurt as I pressured my bladder to release, but it was just a twinge. Then I lay my head back against the cold plastic, trying to make the white and black stars in my eyes go away. They didn't. For a few seconds everything was black. I heard a high-pitched sound and my skin ran cold. Then normal sight, with tiny white flashing points. I took some deep breaths and tried to swallow the sick feeling in my stomach. If I stayed here long enough, Neill would come and get me.

A bang on the door. "Taken," I croaked. I didn't register the sound of keys or the lock being clicked open. Just suddenly, I opened my eyes, and there was Liam, inches in front of me. It was like a bad dream. I shut my eyes, imagining 'it' would go away.

Opening my heavy eyelids revealed the truth. Liam was still there, solid as a rock. I didn't see his face, just the tent in his trousers. "Got it wrong, didn't I?" Liam whispered. "You're the one with the pussy-arse. He's even got you pissing like a woman." Where'd he come up with this shit?

"Fuck you," I spat in anger, disgust, a little humiliation. I pulled myself to my feet and shoved him away. "Just get out of my face." Hurriedly, I dragged my pants up. The smirk on his face was quickly punched off. I shot to the door. He grabbed my arse on the way out.

I tried to push him away but white and black fire was already clouding my vision and draining my movement. "Leave me alone," I weakly protested. Liam's hands groped my bulge. Heat shot through me as he drew me by my package, back into the room. I was suddenly pressed more tightly to him than I wanted, his hard-on jabbing my side. He slipped his cold, almost clinical hand, down my pants. It felt wrinkleless, even on the knuckles, the skin oily, almost rubbery, like he was wearing a glove. The bastard wasn't, since his nails scratched the skin above my groin. I flinched with the terrible knowledge of what was about to happen. He drifted lower and caressed my loose, urine-dripping cock. I felt myself grow hot and begin to distend almost instantly. "Stop!" I protested in panic. "Please stop, please!" My murky mind couldn't determine whether I was talking to him or my stiffening cock.

Sight got hazier. "Stop," I whispered as pain set in. My voice sounded slurred. I was going to pass out and I sure as hell didn't want to if Liam was going to be anywhere near me. Agonisingly, I could feel blood rush south as my heart tremored weakly. I may have been able to disassociate from the experience if my engorged cock hadn't warmed his chilled hand.

Liam ran his smooth fingertips along and around my meat and gripped me tightly. His fist slowly closed and started to rub up and down, spreading my urine along my shaft. Meanwhile, his left hand, with the bandaged wrist, stopped holding my body still. It dropped and massaged my balls through the lumpy fabric of my track-pants. He'd clearly handled men before; his fingers were the right pressure, neither too rough nor too gentle. If he had fumbled or hurt me, I would have felt better, not so aroused. "Stop..." I said, but it was only a soundless breath. As I slipped into darkness, I started to believe that maybe it was Neill's hand on my leaking, hard shaft, or even my own.

A hard kiss on my neck brought me back. "Do you like that?" burned my ears.

Not Neill. I remembered where I was, what was happening and felt sick and horrified that I was so aroused over someone whose presence made me nauseous. "No," I gasped.

"You do." Lust slurred voice, hand moving faster, massaging my precum along my burning, prickling length. I just hoped to hell he wouldn't keep it up. My throbbing shaft wouldn't hold out much longer.

I shuddered as electricity flashed through me. The heat and pressure I associated with impending orgasm spread at the beat of my panting heart. "I don't," I moaned. I clenched my thighs, abdomen, bladder, anything that would hold me back. I would never forgive myself if I let Liam make me cum.

Anger. I hated the bastard. Hated the way he way he was perverting something that felt good to hurt me. "Get off me."

Fury. I blinked the dizziness away. My eyes refused to look at him. I couldn't bear it. "Get the fuck off me." The revoltingly pleasant feeling of his fast hand on my cock provided the necessary stimulation to force my knuckles into his stomach. He released me, catching his hand in my waistband, before withdrawing it altogether. I struck again, in blind fury. Literally blind, since I still had my eyes tightly closed. Some mysterious source of energy gave me strength to slam his body against the sink. Quickly, I turned, no pain, and attacked the door. My sweaty, shaking hands struggled with the handle.

I lurched through the doorway. As I did, I heard Liam groan, "Who made the first move, you or him?" Why did I look back? His stitched lips curved into a smile. "Him. You're as straight as a fucking nail." I still cannot entirely understand why he said it or what satisfaction he got from saying it.

*

I staggered back to the room, forgetting everything except Liam's groping fingers burning into my scrotum. What hurt was that my cock had instantly prickled on contact, and was now terribly hard, on the edge of climax. What the fuck was wrong with me? I hated Liam, I didn't want him anywhere near me and his touch made me want to vomit. My mind told the hard-on to go away, but it wouldn't. Guilt ripped up my guts. I must have liked it, else I wouldn't be so close. What was wrong with me? What had I done?

By the time I got to the room, I had pulled my jumper as far down as I could, my pants up as high. There was no way in hell I wanted Neill to know about this. I brushed past him into the room, staring blankly anywhere but his face. My mind refused to quiet.

Neill seemed to immediately sense that something was very wrong. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

"No, you're not. You'd better sit down." He tried to help me over to my bed but I shrugged him off. My body flopped onto the mattress of its own accord, oblivious to any pain. At the time, I didn't notice what position I took or why, but in hindsight I realise I wanted to be as small as possible. I think I bent forward, head resting over the arms tightly protecting my chest. I couldn't take this, but I didn't want Neill to know. I was ashamed, angry, horrified by the way my cock had leaked for Liam's hands.

Neill sat beside me. When I felt his hand on my shoulder for a second time, I gave in and let him hug me. I couldn't say anything. My guts felt ripped out.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I should have come with you."

"You're not my babysitter," I protested, fighting the urge to rage, scream, cry, something to release the pressure. "I'm all right, really. I just got dizzy- Hit my head- Think I blacked out." The lie brought more tears to my eyes than the truth. I felt as though this was an okay vent for the terrible feelings raging inside me.

His hands pushed me away a little, so that he could eye me up. I didn't look to see whether he glanced at my groin, which I knew from sensation was still hard, the fabric slick and damp. "Don't lie," he whispered. "The truth."

The sight of those blue eyes, divided by a tiny worry line, teased a little more out. I still resisted tears. I guess I thought I wouldn't be a man if I cried, because in my mind this only happened to women. "Liam," I said. Couldn't say anymore.

A flash of anger in Neill's eyes, but his voice remained calm. "What did he do?"

Slow, steady. "Cornered me on the way back from the toilet. Really, nothing much. Just wanted to have a go over getting kicked off the team."