“You shagged yet?” he’d followed up.
“Fuck off,” I’d retaliated. Strangely, they’d laughed.
And then I’d found myself back here, the boys milling around, shouting about showers and takeaway, with me stood around like the spare part I was. Until I realised Peter was tucked up in bed, snoring. That was something I could do something about. The lazy old git. Here I was running around in a muddy football field, trying to give him space. Well. I’d been made to do it. Told to by his…sons. Oh God. Who was I? I’d shaken my head in disgust at myself. Tea, it was.
And then this. Ending up here, hiccupping up emotions like a baby. Because I couldn’t control myself anymore. There was only so much strength in my bones before I lost it, and whilst I hadn’t fully disintegrated into insanity? I was certainly heading there.
“I think you’re…sometimes right about…some things,” he said, like those were the kind of words that would calm me down, whilst his face was far too close to mine.
I could have angled my head. Could have looked up. Down. Pushed him away. Instead I let him brush his top lip against mine. Perhaps he leant down further. Or maybe my head had actually lifted from the bed so I could…
Kiss him. My mouth half open as I let my lips clamp around his bottom lip. Sucked at it, just for a millisecond so I could feel all that softness. I wanted to bite down. Just gently so I could taste him. I let go and did it again, allowing my tongue to dart in for a soft lick inside his upper lip.
Naughty. Dirty.
Shameful. I was being an absolute idiot here, but I just couldn’t make myself stop. We weren’t ready for this.
“Saucy,” he whispered as he pulled up. “You’re a good kisser!”
Was I? Probably not, but now his chest was pressing down on mine as he let his hand drag up my face. Fingers fisting my hair as his lips were back on mine.
Small, soft kisses against my stubbled cheek. Then a teasing brush over my lips.
“It’s not…a vibe, Peter.” Words. I wanted kisses, but fuck, I needed words. All the words. “I’m trying something new because everything I’ve done before has never worked. I’ve never met someone I wanted…this with.”
“You’ve…” he started, rising up and looking at me.
“Of course I have,” I said sternly. Then I looked away. He pulled my face back. “But?”
Trust him to understand the words I didn’t say.
“I’ve…” I wanted to say it. Probably needed to. “Got some more stuff I need to fix.”
“Exactly what?” he said. His voice was back. The stern way he talked when he was telling me what to do. Demanding answers. I liked it. I needed it. It was just easier that way.
“My life is a bit of a… I’m…”
“Oliver.” His voice. Deep. Dark. Soothing. I hated it when he shouted. Loved when he said my name.
“Don’t shout at me,” I begged, finally allowing myself to look at him. Properly.
“Dinner’s going bloody cold out there. Can you stop shagging and get out here!” Here was Ed…walking into the room, then immediately covering his eyes and backing out. “For fuck’s sake, Dad.”
“Ed!” he shouted. Then, “Sorry.”
“Okay,” I said. I wanted to say so much, all the words just pooling like thick soup in my throat. I wanted to let them out. But once again, he stunned me by kissing me into silence.
“Better save some for later. Don’t want to sprout a boner,” he whispered into my cheek, then sat himself up. Turned away.
I wanted more than anything to sink through those floorboards now. Either that or go join Mary. Live under the soil where I didn’t have to own up to anything. Boner? Yeah. There was a definitive one right there, under where his thigh had rubbed against my groin.
“Oliver, we’re going to talk.” He spoke to the window, with his back to me. “We’re going to sort this all out. But now? I need to… Just let me gather my thoughts. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Dinner,” he said, and stood up. Brushed himself down. His naked chest. Pyjama pants. Turning around and seemingly looking for something to cover himself up in.
Still? It was there. Right there, and my heart jolted in my chest.
