Title: Can’t put a word to the feeling
Disclaimer: Sadly, this piece is all the work of a much deranged mind (mine), and not in any way, shape, or form true. I mean to cast no aspersions on Darren Hayes or Daniel Jones’ character, nor to make any assumptions about their sexuality. Note: I know nothing about Australian Uni. I'm sorry if I've got it all miserably wrong.
Summary: Daniel returns home for a wedding only to run into Darren, his former best friend, and the current love-of-his-life.
Pairing: Darren and Daniel
Genre: Deeply AU
Rating: NC-17 (for sexual content, and some minor swearing)
acknowledgments: Thank you Linda, for betaing this. I'm sorry I took so long, despite the fact that you had this back to me FOREVER ago.
Previous chapter available HERE: Heat, Part 1
Lightning: my obsession. I don’t know why. Fire, electricity, wind, it’s always held a strange magnetism for me. I know I’ve often appeared completely mad with the way I can glue myself to the window, or run outside during the storm, but I can’t help it. That’s just my thing.
Tonight it’s pissing down a storm, and there’s enough lightning and wind to tear my bloody dorm apart. It’s begging me to go out there, and I want to. Oh, I want to. But I have to finish a stupid paper for my communications class. It’s about my childhood and there’s basically only one way to sum that up. Darren.
God in heaven, there was a time where Darren and I were probably considered extensions of the same person, even when we had different tastes and appetites. I don’t know if you noticed, but despite contemporary literature and all the rest of that shite, men, boys, whatever . . .don’t really form deep attachments the way women do. Darren and I did. But that was more than just friendship, and I’d be incredibly stupid to try to tell myself it wasn’t. We did everything together, errands, trips to the library, detention—you name it. It was brilliant, what we had was so unconditional that we probably would’ve accepted that the other was a murderer if it ever came to that.
Needless to say when I found out he was gay—let me stress found out-- because Darren didn’t exactly tell me. I caught him wanking off to a gay porno, although sometimes I wonder if he let me walk in there so he wouldn’t have to say it—it wasn’t all that big a deal. I suppose the pangs in my chest when I thought about him looking at some bloke other than myself in the same way us laddies look at the ladies should have clued me in a bit, but you know, I was pretty blockheaded. He was so much more in touch with himself, what he felt, he never would have sat there wondering whether or not he was having heart burn the way I did.
But it spun out of control. I guess it was bound to. During a lightning storm like tonight, only it was 5000 degrees hotter, we crossed the ‘point of no return’. I don’t think you need me to spell it out for you. I couldn’t handle any of it, even if at the time, it had felt right. I wanted us to be friends, lovers didn’t last. They were stupid enough to get bloody married, and then they got divorced. I couldn’t have done that with Darren. I also was not in the least ready to face being a homosexual. So I tried to act like everything was normal, and I lost him anyway.
Now I’m sitting here, trying to write about our childhood, and the only thing that comes to mind is what he sounded like when he came. What his sweat-slicked skin felt like against mine, and how his eyes burned when he looked at me every single fucking day.
So I’ve moved on as best I can. Days like these I remember, and it hurts. But I realize something, I’m lucky for the time I had with Darren.
I looked at what I had written on the computer screen, there was no way I could submit that to my communications teacher. Gay sex and lightning storms were not exactly what I had intended to write. I sighed, and bowed my head. So now what do I do? I could turn it in, I guess. I’d probably get points for being honest, and, for that matter, original. At the same time however, that would probably be revealing too much information. It was probably in my best interest to stick to subjects like footie and recess. Ugh, but none of that was coming out onto the page. Just Darren and more Darren.
“Hey, Danny, what are you up to?” Alex, my roommate, said as he threw himself down on the bed across from mine. He’d just been on a “date” with his girlfriend, but of all of us blokes knew that meant a shag fest in her single.
“Stupid essay for Butler’s class,” I told him with a long sigh.
“I hate that bitch!” he said as he rolled over on the bed. “Hey, what’s this?”
I rolled my desk chair around to face him, “What’s what?” I saw him holding a pile of envelopes and letters. “Oh, that. That’s just my mail, I threw it on your bed, when my mobile rang and just forgot about it.”
I thought he’d hand them over then, but he continued to look through the pile, until he came upon a garishly pink envelope. “Hmm, what’s this?”
“I won’t know until you give it to me,” I replied, leaning back into my chair. He turned it over and read the return address.
“Anna Cecilia Cross?” he looked up, a devilish expression drifting across his face. “Ooh, is this something for Jenna to worry about?”
Jenna was a girl on the first floor of our dorm who’d literally been stalking me for the past couple of months. Some women have this insane predilection to ‘convert the gay guy’. I’ve always wondered if they ever had any success. I rolled my eyes, and grabbed the pink envelope. “Anna Banana? I doubt it. She and Churchill were pretty hot and heavy in high school.”
“Churchill? There is someone on God’s green earth called Churchill?”
“Yes, Winston, born in 1874, had something to do with this um war thingy. I’m sure you’ve heard of him, you’re the History major.” I ripped open the envelope and pulled out an invitation. “Just as I thought, she and Churchill are getting married.”
“Hooo, wow,” he flopped back onto the bed, his arms folded beneath his head. “How old are they?”
“Churchill is 19, and Anna is 20 or thereabouts,” I said as I perused the envelope. They were getting married over Christmas Vacation, which meant I had no way of escaping. Don’t get me wrong, I love Anna. She was a great friend in High School, but I absolutely hate weddings, and Darren would, without a doubt, be there.
“You gonna go?” Alex said, flopping back down on his bed and tossing my other mail aside.
I got up out of my chair and started picking up the rest of the assorted letters from home, letters for bills, and so on. “I don’t really think I can avoid it.”
“Daniel!” A perfumed embrace enveloped me and I struggled to breathe through a vice-like grip.
“Anna Banana!” I gasped for air. “How—‘ave you—been?”
“Anna, Anna, he can’t breathe,” Churchill said, a respectful few paces behind her, his grey eyes dancing with ill-concealed mirth. I made a face at him.
“I’ve been well.” She mumbled into my shoulder. “Darren’s come back too, you know?”
I stiffened in her grasp. “Oh . . .” She pulled back from me, to stare up at my face. I plowed ahead to cover my discomfort, “Er, do you think we could pick up my bags?”
She smiled, and the affianced couple led me to the baggage claim. I’d arrived from Victoria only fifteen minutes ago, and Darren had already managed to reach me here. There would be no escaping him at the wedding, a thought that hadn’t been far from my mind during the entire plane ride. Would his icy eyes still look at me with anger and disappointment that I hadn’t been strong enough? Or would they be back to the blue molten flame I had loved so well during my childhood. I didn’t know what to expect anymore. Whatever it was I did expect—it wasn’t good.
Anna chattered about the various gossip of those who’d stayed in Brissy, when I couldn’t bear to. I’d just managed to scrape enough credits to graduate High school, and somehow Monash University had wanted me, and though it wasn’t as far away as I could get, it had been far enough for me. I’d been back to Queensland only twice for Christmas, and the summer before my Sophomore and Junior years I’d taken a job in a research lab collating data. I didn’t miss my family, which was kind of depressing, but mostly I did miss Darren, and so I stayed away.
“He’s managed to get a few of his short stories published you know?” Anna nattered on as Churchill rolled his eyes at me from her other side.
Who? I didn’t want to ask and reveal I hadn’t been paying attention. Published. Darren, of course.
“Yeah, I read the one about climbing fences.” My mother had sent the magazine to me when she’d seen it. I still had it somewhere. But I didn’t need them to know that.
“Oh, “Trespasses”, yeah, I love that one.” She grinned as we waited for my bags to arrive on the conveyor belt. “He says that it’s one of his worst, and he doesn’t know where it came from. What bollocks!”
I smiled weakly at her and was happy when my non-descript black bag arrived.
I hate weddings. I’m sure I’ve made this unfailingly clear. I hate them. We all understand, yes? So why the fuck was I being forced to go to one? I don’t know. I must love Anna Banana a hell of a lot. The requisite celebratory dinner had only been going on for fifteen minutes, and I almost wanted to pull a Port Arthur. I hated to think what the stupid rehearsal dinner would be like.
A total of eight people had asked me why I wasn’t attending Griffith, or better yet, Macquarie with Darren. Another eight people had asked me about my “wild college escapades” and one idiot girl had actually propositioned me. She was a sister to the groom’s older brother’s wife, and as such I couldn’t bloody well tell her to shove off. It was desperate straits trying to extricate myself from that situation, but finally I managed to escape to the kitchen.
Only to find Darren on the other side of the swinging door. He looked good, really good. Painfully good. He was more muscular than me now, although just as pale as before. He had some stubble which highlighted his elegant cheek bones and it gave him this, ‘I just fell out of bed this morning look’. All I wanted do was shag him senseless. Not good. Back out the door again. Yes.
“Daniel? Wait, could you give us a hand with the appetizers?” Anna called from the stove where she was busily stirring some concoction. I cannot cook. I can mix radioactive compounds and separate silver nitrate into its component parts, but I cannot cook. Darren knew this very well, and his amusement at my situation was palpable. Cheeky Bastard. How dare you look like sex on a . . .a . . .stick and smirk at me? I’ve been suffering over you since high school. I won’t say I’ve remained completely celibate, but I will say, I haven’t been the absolute rake I very well could’ve been.
“Er . . .you want my help? I’d dance around naked reciting Chaucer before I let me help in the kitchen, if I were you that is.”
“Nonsense, you can help arrange these,” she gestured to a plate full of garnishes and little pieces of toast. She walked out before I could protest. I stepped next to Darren who was already working busily. He’d always been artistic, even with something as trivial as toast.
“So how’s Monash?”
“Er, what?” Oh brilliant opening words, Daniel Jones, you’ll win a Pulitzer one day for sure.
“How is Monash?” He enunciated clearly.
“Oh, it’s fine. I have an excellent Psychometrics professor. He’s really inspired me to explore that.” I fiddled about with a piece of shredded carrot. Darren was churning out these artful little toasts by the second of course.
“Mum said you were working on some big study testing out anti-depressants.”
“The effect of Natural Remedies like Gingko on brain chemistry, actually.” I finally managed to get the pieces to stay on, although the cracker hardly looked appetizing.
“Oh?” He said, looking up to pin me with his gaze. Agh, that look should be illegal.
“Er, yeah.” I added a stray bit of parsley to make it more exciting. “Germany recently approved the use of Gingko in the treatment of Alzheimer’s disease. The Australian government wanted to know if its effective use was anecdotal or grounded in fact. It was my job to figure out if the results were significant.”
Darren clearly found this completely boring, so I’m not sure why he continued the subject. Maybe because we’d gotten to the point where we couldn’t talk about anything but the stupid things we did to pass the time. “Significant?”
“When you get results you have to test to see if they support or reject your hypothesis.”
I was quick to change the subject. “Yeah, so what about you?”
“Oh, just been writing, taking classes, you know, all that.” More artful little toasts found their way onto the plate, I was still working on my first. “I might get a novel-length book published. That’ll be good.”
“That’s great,” I replied like a long lost acquaintance you run into at a coffee shop while waiting for a latte to arrive. I jostled the toast and all the bits I’d so painstakingly assembled tumbled off. “Agh! I hate this.”
“What?” He peered around my hands, and burst out laughing. I missed that laugh. Shite, we’d been through this, I missed everything about him. “Er, how about I do those, and you can toss the salad?”
I chuckled a little to myself and moved off to do his bidding. A full host of giggling females suddenly waltzed in through the doors. They cooed over Darren, who was, of course, out and proud, and the favorite of single females everywhere. I could tell from the look on his face that he wanted them all to die, probably the same way I had when I was constantly propositioned. Never build up a reputation. It will come back to bite you in the arse one day. I’d actually had sex with two of the girls in the room too. I was suddenly very glad that they didn’t know about my sexual preferences. What a mess that would be.
I shook my head, and turned back to the task at hand. Absently talking to a girl on my right as I worked. I was just walking by Darren to fetch the vinaigrette, when the strawberry blonde I’d never met who was rapidly consuming toast as fast as Darren made them, knocked over a full bottle of wine. I watched it fall, but for some reason, I didn’t think to get out of the way. It spattered all over the two of us. Well, shite.
Anna laughed and laughed. I’m sure Darren and I looked very pleased about it.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Our expressions didn’t change. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure Churchill can lend you something.” We sighed in unison.
We stood in Churchill and Anna’s bedroom and looked at each other in silence. Neither of us wanted to get undressed first. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have had sex with my best friend, now I was really starting to feel it. I tried to ignore the part of me that tried to say it had been the best sex of my life.
“Er, Um, I’ll uh, change in the bathroom.” I made a quick getaway. I heard the clink of his belt, and had to fight the urge to peer around the bathroom door. I sighed loudly. Well, at least we’d managed to have a civil conversation. About stuff that was as boring as the Catholic Church. I thought I heard him leave the room, so I walked cautiously out, borrowed clothes fitting terribly on my not so average frame.
Big mistake. What exactly had lead me to the conclusion that Darren had left the room?
“I, er, sorry.” I tried to look away from his boxer brief clad body, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the fabric that molded itself to his legs and cock. Christ, look away, look away Daniel. “Um, I’m gonna try to get the stains out of my shirt. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.”
I rushed out of the room. This dinner couldn’t go any worse. He would’ve had to have been blind or a have shite for brains not to notice my blatant stare.
“Hey, Daniel, you okay?” Some long lost acquaintance called out. I nodded and sat down in an unoccupied chair. Darren came waltzing out five minutes later, looking perfectly put together. Damn him. When was it exactly that Mr. Drama Queen had become so cool and collected? He looked over at me and I looked quickly away.
Anna sat next to me at the dinner table. All the rest of her guests were chatting away happily. I sat there talking to a few people about psychometrics and anything else to pass the time. I felt connected with very few of these people, and I was really beginning to miss all my friends from school.
“What happened with you and Darren?” Anna whispered furiously into my ear.
“What? N-nothing!” I stumbled in surprise. I hadn’t done anything this time.
“Uhuh, I wanna know why it is you didn’t go to Macquarie with Darren. Everybody knew you liked it there, and you got in.”
“Er, well, you can’t always stick with your friends.” Lame excuse.
“Pah.” She poked me in the side. “Every time I mention either one of you to the other one, you both stiffen up and refuse to talk about it.”
I made a face, which she caught. “You’re going to tell me, Mr. Jones or I’ll tickle you to death.”
“What?” She looked at me strangely.
“The one who’s ticklish, that’s Darren.” I turned back to my food, hoping to show my absolute disinterest in this topic.
“Oh, right.” I could tell she wasn’t going to let it alone, but it would take a lot more than this to prize the information out of me. She stood up suddenly, and I looked up at her, wondering what it was exactly she was plotting. “All right, there’s more work to do in the kitchen. Darren and Daniel, I need help. So come on boys.”
Damn it. Now we couldn’t say no. Not only were we guests in her house, we were her friends, and she was the bride to be. Why were all my friends so conniving? Darren and I got up, not looking at each other as we made our way back into the accursed kitchen. I thought she was going to set me to another impossible task, but she just chattered at us as we stood there, occasionally asking us to grab something.
I should have seen it coming. Really. I know Anna Banana. She was bound to do something like this. But still, it came as a shock. While walking through the small aisle that the counter and the chopping block created, she pretended to slip on a phantom ice cube and knocked into Darren hard enough to send him reeling back into me. She then proceeded to squeeze by the two of us so that Darren’s back was practically sealed to my front while I was pressed into the chopping block behind me. If you’re fighting attraction and lots of other unresolved issues with your best friend, this is not a very handy position to be in.
Darren was just righting himself, when she walked by again, pushing him back into me a second time, and me back into the counter again.
“Oh, excuse me,” she said, smiling sweetly at us. I sighed again, accepting this as my torture for messing with a good thing during the end of high school. I couldn’t believe it when he ground his arse into my pelvis, like we were on the dance floor and not in a friend’s kitchen with that friend present. A strangled sound managed to fight its way past my lips and then he stepped away. Both Anna and Darren walked back out of the kitchen leaving me behind with a shocked expression. How was I ever going to survive the rest of this week?
Wedding day dawned bright and early. Mum said I looked quite “dashing” in my charcoal suit, black shirt, and white tie. I do well in grey scale, which is probably why I’ve always gravitated towards it when I have to dress up. Just before I left she had to heap the guilt on, however.
“Why don’t you come home more often Daniel? Why don’t you ever bring any young ladies to meet me? Why don’t you return my calls? Why hasn’t Darren been round to call?”
Well Mum, I can’t stand to be in this town anymore and Mum, we’ve been through this, there never will be any young ladies. So what do you say Mum, would you like to get together over tea and scones?
I love my mum really, and I love my dad too. But, they’re so annoying, and my brothers are five billion times worse. I don’t want to spend time with any of them anymore than I have to. Why did they think I spent so much time at Darren’s and he never spent anytime at my house? I suppose my family members shall never be known for cleverness.
I rolled my eyes at my mother and got into my dad’s car, which he’d been kind enough to loan. I could only hope it wouldn’t break down halfway to the ceremony.
The ceremony had gone wonderfully and now Anna was really hitched. Most of the guests were well and truly sloshed and were teetering about the dance floor like ninepins reeling after a whack from a bowling ball. I sat in chair at an empty table watching the proceedings with much amusement. It really struck me then how young we all were.
“ ‘ello love, how are you fairing?” Anna sidled up to me, looking resplendent in her white beaded gown that probably cost more than an entire East Asian village.
“I’m fine.” I smiled up at her. “You look beautiful.”
“You know there’s still time, we could run away together,” she said a mischievous look in her eye.
“Yeah, if your father wouldn’t hunt me down and serve me to his prized Doberman, maybe I’d consider it.” I took a sip of my water, and looked over at the father of the bride.
“How gallant, Daniel.” She laughed. “He’s gotten a lot better about that sort of thing too.”
Right, that’s why Mr. Cross looked like he was going to murder Churchill. Married at twenty was the last thing he wanted for his daughter. I wasn’t going to say anything about it though.
“Anyway,” her voice broke through my thoughts, “I need you to fetch something from the supply closet.”
“Uh-oh, What?” I shifted in my chair.
“My sister-in-law Daphne spilled oyster sauce on her dress. The staff says that they have stain remover in the supply closet. So be a love and get it for me?”
“What, for that woman? She pinched my arse twice this morning.”
“Daniel, please?” She begged me. I sighed. I can never say no to that pouty look. Especially when Darren did it. Ugh. Will not think about it. Will not think about it.
I heaved myself up out of my very comfortable sitting position and made my way off to the supply closet. I left my stuffy suit jacket behind and was half-heartedly considering stripping my dress shirt off. I walked by a group of my old friends from high school and waved at them. We’d spent some time talking earlier. By now, most of them knew I was gay, and thankfully none had yet threatened to kill me. Although I dare say that had something to do with their remembrance of what our schoolyard fights had been like.
Darren and I had made wide circles around each other for the entire evening. We’d lost that five second camaraderie from yesterday and I was still puzzling over what I now termed the “kitchen incident”.
I’d found the little cubby hole and was looking at various bleaches and stain removers when I heard the door open behind me.
“What? Come to tell me you don’t need it anymore?” I said as I contemplated mixing the bottle of bleach with paint thinner. That would teach that woman to violate my person.
I whirled around at the sound of the voice to face Darren. “What are you doing here?”
Darren looked at me strangely, “Anna Banana sent me to find stain remover, what about yourself?”
“But she sent me to find stain remover.” I protested. Oh no, suddenly it dawned on me. Anna Banana, I’m going to kill you.
“The door!” we said in unison, rushing to it. But it was too late it was locked tight and no amount of pounding on it brought anybody to the rescue. This is something I might have expected from a second grader, not the behavior of a newly wed.
“This is like a scene from a bad movie,” he said as he sat down on a tub of some household chemical. I leaned against one of the walls, my arms crossed. Darren had loosened the tie on his dress shirt, and the top button was undone. Jesus. What ever happened to self-control? I looked upwards at the ceiling, wondering what we were going to do for the indefinite period of time we were being forced to wait here.
“We are sitting in a room filled with bleach, borox, and other toxic goodies. I guess, we just wait here then,” he tentatively put forward after long moments of awkward silence. I leveled my gaze back on him. Hmm, well I had sudden complete sensory failure and couldn’t figure that out myself, how kind of you to point it out for me, when I so obviously missed it.
“Yes, Darren, we just wait here,” I replied as if I were humoring a small child. Darren rolled his eyes at my sarcasm and leaned back against the wall behind him. We sat in silence for long moments. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, and could tell he was thinking a mile a minute. The silence continued. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“All right, just say it!” I finally said resignedly.
“Say what?” A confused expression graced his face.
“Whatever it is you want to ask me. You have that look in your eye.” Some things you really can’t forget.
He tensed. “I do not.”
I rolled my eyes and directed my gaze back up at the ceiling, “All right, whatever, you win.” Stubborn little bastard. Another hour of silence seemed to tick by.
“Okay, fine, I wanted to ask you something,” he finally huffed out. Heh, that trick always used to work on him, all you had to do was ignore him.
He took a deep breath. “Why’d you do it, Daniel?”
I stood up straight and looked over at him, my eyebrows lost in my hairline. “What is it exactly, that I have done? Committed a murder in my sleep?”
He pinned me with his gaze that brooked no attempts at sarcastic humor. “Why’d you fuck me?”
Oh God. Direct as ever. Here we go. I knew I shouldn’t have attended this stupid wedding. This was the part where he made me pay, and then told me that he was strong enough without me now, and all the rest of that ‘I will survive’ bullshit. It would kill me to hear that come out of his mouth.
“I never fucked you.” I looked right back at him, matching him stare for stare. It’s not something one should ever attempt lightly with Darren Hayes, because those eyes could see right through you when angry.
“Oh, now you’re denying it.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, Daniel, you broke me. The least you can do is admit that it happened.”
I replied indignantly, “I never said it didn’t happen, you ponce. I only—”
“What exactly did you just do five seconds ago then? There is no plausible deniability here, Daniel! It’s not like you can say you weren’t there!” he interrupted me, getting up to his feet. “You have no Bowie-esque excuse, there were no drugs.”
What the hell are you talking about? “I said I never fucked you, that doesn’t mean I—”
He interrupted me again. “Oh pray tell, what does it mean Daniel, because I have been dying to know why you left me lying there—”
I heaved an exasperated breath, “Listen—”
“No, you listen . . .” And then we were yelling at each other so much that I couldn’t even tell what I was saying anymore. I took a step closer to him, as he listed something off on his hands, while I tried to justify my horrible mistake. It had been a hard lesson to learn, but he wasn’t going to let me apologize.
I shouted at him, finally getting myself to be heard. “I loved you!”
He stopped talking, his face slack with shock, after a moment he regained the ability to speak, “Don’t say things that you don’t mean.”
I sighed and turned away from him, how could I possibly explain how I felt? “I was a teenage boy in love with his best friend, Darren. You tell me what I was supposed to do.”
He leaned back against the wall, “We could’ve made it work, Daniel. You were just too damn scared.”
I looked back at him. “You’re right, I was petrified.”
“You were a Class A son of a bitch!” He took a step closer to me.
“Oh and you were a Saint,” I replied, suddenly losing my whole strategy to apologize and explain to him what exactly happened. And then we were really in each other’s faces screaming some more.
“You’re a fag, Daniel!” He shouted before pausing for breath.
“Is that what you want to hear? All right, I’m a fag! A fucking queer! Is that enough for you?”
“No, it’ll never be enough,” he pushed me hard on the shoulder, “because you’re ashamed of who you are!”
“Oh, said who?” I don’t know how exactly we’d gotten onto this tangent about being out of the closet, but we were so angry that we looked for anything we possibly could fight about. “Did you ever stop to ask me if I was out?”
He sneered but didn’t respond. “No, that’s right! You didn’t ask me if I was out. Just like you to make assumptions. I can remember one very big one you made.”
“Don’t you dare bring that night into this, Daniel Jones!” He shoved me again.
“Or what? You’ll kick my arse in the supply closet?” I stepped closer still to him. The very thought actually elicited a genuine chuckle from me.
“No I’ll—” he licked his lips and broke off. Oh god that sinful mouth, the one I still had dreams about. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d slammed him into the wall behind him, and pinned his arms.
“Fucking tease!” I said gruffly, before diving in to kiss him. He moaned and didn’t resist. Kissing me back with all the rancor we’d stored up, mixed in with the pent-up sexuality. God, I could taste the chocolate we’d had for dessert in his mouth. He ground himself into me, and I pressed him harder back into the wall. His tongue was running over my lower-lip in smooth velvety swipes, and every little feeling from that one evening came rushing back. I finally pulled away, and went after his pulse-point. Nipping at the sensitive spot.
He groaned again, finally gasping out. “I’m not . . . a tease.”
“Oh yeah fucking right!” I pulled away from his neck, but allowed my body to press into his. “Yesterday in the kitchen, you little arsehole!”
He laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. Yeah, I knew you did it on purpose. “So romantic, Daniel.”
It mirrored something I’d said to him once. I attacked his mouth again, finally letting his arms go so I could unbutton his shirt. But it was difficult trying to concentrate with him doing sinful things with that glorious mouth. Finally I just tugged the shirt open, hearing the buttons skitter around the small space as I pushed up his undershirt. He chuckled into my mouth, but it quickly turned into a moan as my fingers pinched a nipple. It wasn’t in me to be gentle with him now. His freed hands skimmed down my chest, one going around to dig into my back, and the other gripped my cock.
I pulled back, and pinned his wrists above his head with my right hand. “Uh uh uh. No touching.” He laughed and struggled in my hold a little. “Don’t make me tie you to the shelving unit.”
“With what?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face like he wasn’t adverse to idea at all.
I tugged on his loosened tie and raised one eyebrow at him. He smiled and leaned his head back against the wall. I took a moment to admire how utterly depraved he looked- arms locked over his head, dress shirt hanging open, undershirt pushed up, and lips red and kiss swollen. Oh jesus. Nothing compared to this.
I leaned in and sucked on his collar bone till a red mark showed on the skin. Fuck yes, I thought as he writhed against the wall, he was going to have the biggest love bite tomorrow. With one hand I tugged his leg up over my hip, sealing our groins even closer together.
He laughed again breathlessly as I nipped my way up his neck. “You still have your shirt on, Daniel.”
His voice around my name and the desire-ridden quality of his voice would’ve bowled a lesser man over.
I sucked on his earlobe for a second, and ran my tongue along that spot where the jaw meets the neck, and then pulled back. I grinned at him. “Then take it off.”
I took a step away from him, releasing his arms. He followed me, hands deftly unfastening my shirt. “How long have you wanted this, Danny?”
I didn’t answer. What a stupid question. Forever.
His nails scraped down my chest when the impediment of the shirt had been removed. I shivered. He shoved me then, so that I was forced to sit down on the same barrel of chemicals as he’d previously occupied, and then straddled my waist. My hands glided up his legs to grip his arse tightly. He tangled one fist into my hair and pulled my head up to kiss me roughly. This was so different than that fateful first time. His tongue thrust into my mouth, ravaging it, fighting me for control. I could feel the hardness of his cock trapped between our bodies, and it fueled my own arousal.
Darren pushed me back hard so that my head hit the wall with a thunk. “Ungh.” I groaned out. He bit me hard where my neck joined my shoulder, and then soothed the spot with hard swipes of his tongue. I rather liked this whole rough side to Darren.
“I used to dream about you all the time, you know,” he whispered into my ear as he gripped my biceps hard. “You fucking me in the shower, on the desk in my parent’s study, on the beach, in the biology classroom, on the football pitch. Pretty much anywhere.”
“Definitely had the one about the football pitch,” I replied huskily. He laughed, deep in his throat. I bent my head and lightly kissed a nipple. His back arched and if it weren’t for my hands on his arse, he doubtless would’ve fallen off my lap. I swirled my tongue over it, and heard his breath hitch, and I was very glad I had remembered this little quirk. Gently, I bit down on the now distended nub. He made a keening sound, and I almost thought I would lose it right there.
“Ah, God,” he cried out, his breath coming out in gasps. Slowly he peeled himself up off me and took a few steps backward. I wasn’t sure I liked this new plan, whatever it was he was doing.
He turned around and faced the wall, looking back over his shoulder. “Fuck me, Daniel.”
I closed my eyes and let the words wash over me. When I opened them, he was still standing there. We had no lube, unless you count bleach, which was something I really didn’t want to think about. There was no way I was going to take him dry. Well, there were other ways, I thought mischievously. I stood up and walked over until I was directly behind him.
“Like this,” I said as I grabbed his arms and braced his palms against the wall. I reached downwards to undo his trousers being careful to skim my fingers over his cock as I pulled his pants and boxer briefs down. I sank to my knees behind him, and gripped both his hips in my hands.
I placed a light kiss against his tailbone, and laughed gently as he quivered. I swirled my tongue on that spot that was sensitive almost to the point of pain, and he made a strangled sound, the muscles in his legs tensing. I teased him there for a little while longer, and then, parting his arse cheeks with my hands, I dragged my tongue down the groove. I heard him knock his forehead against the wall. I did this a few more times, careful to avoid the ring of muscle, waiting for him to beg me for it. I pulled back a little and blew on the wet skin.
“Ungh, Danny.” He moaned. I smiled against his skin, waiting for the words I knew were coming. My own shaft was as hard as rock just from the huskiness of his voice alone. “If you don’t give me a proper rimming, I swear to all that is holy—”
“You’ll what? Come on me?” I nipped his left buttock and lightly ran my fingers down his legs.
“Daaaniel . . .” my name came out as a sob upon his lips. I smiled and did what he asked; savagely tonguing the unyielding muscle as my fingers ghosted around to the front of his body to tease his cock. He was now bracing his entire forearms against the wall. Slowly I forced my tongue past his sphincter and firmed my grip only slightly on his cock. It was just enough to keep him going, but not enough to send him over the precipice. I don’t know how he managed to stay standing.
After another moment Darren ground out, “Daniel, stop fucking around and take me!”
I pulled back and laughed hard into his leg. “Only you, Darren, only you.”
I slowly stood up running my hands under his open shirt and up his body. Then I pulled out my wallet and took out a condom. I nearly came undone as I rolled the latex on. I spat into my hand and coated my cock with spit as best I could.
“This is going to hurt a bit.” I nipped the nape of his neck.
“I don’t fucking care,” he replied, his voice strained. He widened his stance instinctively as I gripped his hips and positioned myself at his entrance. I slowly pushed past the tight pucker, and felt him wince at the intrusion. I moaned as he completely encased me.
“Oh, thank God,” I heard him whisper, his forehead pressed into the wall. I pulled back and snapped my hips upwards, hitting his prostate in one stroke. He made that strangled sound I’d so dearly come to love.
“So beautiful,” I moaned into his neck, thrusting continually upwards into him. “You’re killing me, you know that?”
“Well that . . . was my . . . original . . . intent.” He sucked in his breath as I grabbed his right hand off the wall and brought it down to grip his cock. I guided his hand in time with my thrusts.
He was getting close; I could feel it. I loosened my grip around his right hand. “No, not yet.”
“Ohhh,” he moaned, throwing his head back as I slowed my thrusts into him down. “Daniel, if you make me beg—” his speech broke off as I tweaked a nipple. Once again I firmed my grip around his hand. Just a few more thrusts and we’d both be gone. Making sure to hit his prostate on every stroke, I bit down on his shoulder, and he groaned loudly, spilling into our hands and onto the wall. His muscles clamped down, and with a yell, I let myself go. We stayed still, braced against the wall, my body wrapped around his. I wanted to tell him I loved him, it was the truth, but I didn’t know how well that would be received so I stayed quiet. Slowly we sank to the floor, completely uncaring about the state of our clothes.
I looked at the cum splatters on the wall. “How are we going to clean that up?” I gestured at it with a cock of my head.
Darren looked at me and laughed, “Are you kidding? We’re surrounded in cleaning products!”