by J P Sayle
Scorching flames licked at his body when Stuart’s tongue pressed deeper into his mouth. Shuddering in pleasure, Joe sought to taste Stuart. The hint of garlic and pepperoni lingered from the pizza, but underneath he found the distinct flavour of Stuart, dark and spicy, it consumed him. Losing himself in the sensations, Joe felt the desire shimmer behind his closed lids, lighting him up like a firework display.
Rioting feelings flooded Joe making him want more, not resisting, he deepened the kiss, caressing Stuart’s tongue with his own. Seeking more contact, Joe’s body moulded to Stuart’s, feeling a rush of pleasure as their bodies melded perfectly together.
The slow deep caresses Stuart was using to torment him had him wanting to swoon like an actress from the golden age of films. Who the hell taught him to kiss like that? Joe could feel his brain melt into a puddle of goo as Stuart continued to torment him in the best possible way. The romantic way he held Joe made him feel like the most precious thing in the world. His sudden thought bringing him back to earth with a thump. Joe struggled to get his drugged mind to focus on what would happen if he let his lust rule his head. The cold reality sank past his craving, having the desired effect of cooling his libido.
As if sensing the change in him, Stuart stopped kissing the life out of him, moving back slowly. Joe wondered if he looked as debauched as Stuart. Puffy lips glistened wetly, his eyes deep pools of desire against his flushed skin. Joe quaked against Stuart’s heated body, revelling for another minute before his arms loosened their hold, sliding down to the ground. His body rejoicing in the rigid firmness it could feel before he forcibly stepped back. Joe took a big inhale, hoping to calm his racing pulse.
What the hell had he been thinking, or not in his case? He fidgeted when he couldn’t seem to find it in him to regret it. Sensing the danger of his thoughts, he stepped away out of harm’s way.
Joe sucked in another breath that didn’t have Stuart’s intoxicating scent attached to it, willing it to help calm his raging hormones. Not daring a look at Stuart’s lust filled face, his willpower not strong enough to resist him again. The promises he’d made to himself taunted his lust-addled mind.
His stilted words filled the silence. “Thank you for saving me from Sarah. I’m tired, so I’ll just head up to bed, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Turning away before Stuart could respond, Joe all but ran as if the hounds of hell were chasing him, desperate to escape before he succumbed to Stuart’s smouldering stare. It didn’t help that it was laced with confusion making him look so adorable.
Stealing himself, Joe felt his hands fist at his sides as he willed his head not to turn back. Breathing a little easier with each step he took away from Stuart, who clearly clouded his judgement. It is for the best, it is, he reassured himself. He blatantly ignored his body begging he go back and finish what they’d started. Shaking himself, he wasn’t going to let his cock rule his head again, ever. It didn’t matter that his chest ached at the loss of Stuart’s warm hold. No, he needed to remember what would happen. Ruthlessly pulling up images of injures Joel had inflicted. Joe disregarded the nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him this was different.
Finding he couldn’t resist one final glance, instantly regretting it, his insides knotted at the grim determination on Stuart’s face. The utter fierceness of need had Joe racing inside, bolting his bedroom door when he reached it.
“It’s for the best, it is, it has to be for the best. It does.” Joe didn’t fail to hear the note desperation. The internal litany that said he was making a mistake didn’t help either. Lying down on the bed, tears spilt on to his icy cheeks dampening the cotton under his head. Curling into a ball he willed the ache of loneliness away, not entirely convinced he hadn’t made a big error of judgement when it came to Stuart. Rolling over, he pulled the duvet over his head, hiding in a cocoon, willing that when he woke up, things would be different, though not sure how.
Stuart scrutinised Joe’s retreating back, his scurrying feet barely touching the ground, he moved as if ass was on fire back into the house. Stealing his body against the wave of desire and need to chase after Joe and demand they finish what they’d started on Martin’s lawn.
Licking his lips, Joe’s sweet taste still lingered, reminding him of what he’d lost the minute Joe’s mind had reengaged. He had felt the click vibrate through him. Joe’s determination showed in the thrust of his jaw when he’d pulled back.
Stuart sighed in disappointment at the lost moment. He wasn’t entirely convinced he’d get another opportunity either to taste his sweetness, remembering Joe’s confusion, but it was the fear he had seen that made him wary.
A car door slamming in the distance had him suddenly realise he stood like a dork in the middle of Martin’s garden. Heading towards home, he felt unnerved when it didn’t feel welcoming. He hesitated before turning to head to the main road instead. Feeling an overwhelming need for some space, he walked up the main street with no particular destination in mind.
The evening settled about him. Stuart fidgeted, pulling the sleeves of his woollen jumper down, hugging his arms into his body. The dusky clear sky belied the crisp bite in the fresh air. Autumn was clearly taking hold. Stuart could see the differences all around him. The vegetation’s colours no longer lush greens, faded into hues of auburn, orange, russet reds, and light browns. Strolling, his feet seeming to know what his mind needed heading in the direction of Glen Wyllin.
The evening silence only broken by the occasional passing car, and his feet hitting the concrete pavements. Stuart still remembered his surprise at the quiet when he’d moved to Kirk Michael. Though Douglas was no London metropolis, it was decidedly busier than Kirk Michael. The village consisted of a convenience shop, post office, chemist, tea shop, a pub, and a brick a brack shop selling odds and ends. It also had a car centre and a petrol station situated on its outskirts, that being the sum total of the village.
It had been shocking to realise he couldn’t go to a shop at ten pm at night to grab a pint of milk unless he wanted to drive twenty minutes first. Martin had laughed his ass off at his scandalised face when they’d run out of milk one night and he had offered to walk to the shop.
“What shop you planning on walking to, Stuart? The village shop shuts at seven thirty pm weekdays and eight thirty pm on a Saturday. Oh, and on a Sunday you’re really lucky it’s open till one pm in the afternoon. So if you’re walking to Douglas, I’d make sure you put some good trainers on, cause that is one long ass walk.” Martin’s spluttering laughter hardly registering over his shock.
“Are you telling me that there is no shop open twenty-four hours like the UK? Seriously what’s up with that, why the hell does anyone call the shop a convenience, when it is the fucking opposite?” His outrage he recollected only making Martin laugh harder.
He had eventually borrowed milk from Brad, but he’d learnt the hard way, the island moved at its own pace and it was up to him to keep up and plan better, if he didn’t want to run out of anything essential.
The island had a huge amount to offer, but traveling back and forth to the rock when the weather was bad offered extreme challenges to the Manx population. He shuddered, not even wanting to recall M&S when the boats couldn’t run. It seemed to cause a mad panic for the island residents. The horrors he’d endured along with bruising just going shopping, had him shivering into his jumper, still too fresh in his memory to forget.
The sounds of the sea rousing him from his reflections, he found himself at the beach. He could already fell the solace he’d needed ease some of his mixed emotions. Stomping the last few yards to the end of the path, Stuart let the wind draw him closer to the sea. Bracing his legs, letting the wind tug at him, his hair whipped around his face.
The salt spray lay heavy in the air coating his exposed skin, tightening it. He absently rubbed at the grittiness it left in its wake. Shivering when his exposed skin had goosebumps rising to meet the dampness. He sighed in pleasure, invigorated by the energy levels the sea and win
d created together, making the sand dance around his legs.
Squawking had him squinting, searching the sky. Multiple birds attacked the sea, seeking what the waves were prepared to release to the avaricious beaks. The shoreline blended with the horizon. Only the wind moving the dusky clouds released the breathtaking colours of the hidden sunset. The colours bled together, bold pinks fought for supremacy against the subtle oranges.
Stuart moved closer, needing more, his trainers sank into the wet sand attempting to slurp his shoes from his feet. Tremors moved up his legs as the icy cold wetness seeped into his socks, a wicked reminder it wasn’t summer anymore. The thin woollen jumper he wore no protection to the wind’s fierceness on the beach.
Bugger it, I’ll cope. A brisk breeze wouldn’t kill him, the wind mocked when it blasted sand against his exposed face. Hunching into his top, not wanting to be defeated, he stomped towards the end of the beach back towards his house.
Sand lifted, coating his jeans as he stomped down the beach. His muscles warmed as breaths rasped out from the exertion. Holding his arms closer to his body, Stuart hunched in as far as he could, trying to make himself as small as possible. He felt the chilly air rippling across the water, while his mind rehashed the past three weeks.
Hadn’t he tried everything over those three weeks? Bent over backwards trying to please Joe? He’d even listened to his mother’s advice, when he’d finally given in and rung her. Her suggestion of offering silent support, being open to allow Joe to talk, had it worked, no it fucking hadn’t.
Hadn’t he ignored his libido, well mostly? The guy he’d found the night before on Tinder looked too much like Joe, which he supposed in the beginning was why he’d chosen him. His hope had deflated along with his cock.
The nagging at the back of his mind that told him he wasn’t Joe, along with the guy’s scent. It was so different from Joe’s subtle fresh green apple smell. The guy’s overpowering floral scent had him backtracking when it choked him. Realising his mistake too late as the guy pawed at him, rubbing the blasted scent all over him.
Stuart pushed against the battling wind, feeling righteous anger smoulder. He knew where the blame sat, squarely on Joe’s lean shoulders. Stuart remembered why he had gone out in the first place, over hearing Joe’s conversation. He shrugged; maybe he’d been eavesdropping but still who the fuck was Aaden? Joe’s dreamy expression added to the fact he’d all but swooned when he’d answered his mobile. Why had Joe’s musical voice dipped, gone husky? Was he his boyfriend? Why had the whispered conversation left him looking devastated when it finished?
Stuart snorted at his stupid hurt feelings.
Stuart felt his frustration rise, yanking on his hair and pushing it off his face, he glowered at the sea. Yes, he’d realised how pathetic he was, acting like a homemaker, cooking, okay, maybe not cooking, but heating up Brad’s pre-made meals. He’d worked on fattening Joe up, showing he cared.
Flinging his arms wide, ignoring the cold he couldn’t stop the angry words, shouting at the sea. “What the hell is wrong with me? What am I doing wrong?” Stuart snarled in anger when his words were swallowed by the roar of the wind.
The problem he knew was his fucking feelings. Spending time with Joe, Stuart had seen past what had initially attracted him, now able to see what a truly beautiful person he was inside as well as out. He was caring, devoted to his friends, loyal, loving, giving, compassionate and scary intelligent. Running his hands over his face, God, Stuart felt positively stupid next to him. The stuff Brad and he discussed flying right over his head, yet it made his insides turn to jelly to hear him. Who knew intelligence was so fucking sexy? Add in his horn rimmed glasses used for close work, and he was so fucked.
A tangled mess, his feeling were growing daily, he knew he was never going to find anyone that filled him in the same way. The L word sat quietly waiting for him to acknowledge what he’d felt for a few minute years ago, were nothing compared to what he felt now. It waited to grow deeper, all it needed was a glimmer of sunlight from Joe, just a sliver, anything to acknowledge he wasn’t alone in this.
Today, the first sign Joe felt more besides attraction. Still he’d held back, once he was reminded by whatever haunted him, shutting Stuart out quicker than he could blink. Nothing he’d tried so far was working.
The sun disappearing into the sea, and the increasing wind, convinced him he should head back. Not really sure he’d resolved anything, feelings of defeat swamped him. Maybe he needed to talk to Martin or Brad about Joe and what was going on? Perhaps.
His trainers squelched, groaning at the thought of the long walk back. He was grateful to be off the beach, he couldn’t help the smile when the leaves crunched under his feet.
He recalled the escapades him and his two younger sisters got up to, his mother aptly naming them the three musketeers. They had always sort out adventures together. The autumn their most favourite time, they’d spend hours looking for conkers. Taking their prized possessions home, using their mother’s entire bottle of vinegar to harden them for conker fights.
Memories filled him with warmth, running at full pelt after his sisters, screaming his joy at the top of his lungs when he was victorious in their conker battles. Leaves stuck in his hair and clothes, not even the dampened clothes could ruin his fun. The joyous freedom that only the young understood had him stopping mid-step, snapping his fingers, that was it, excitement. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?
Joe’s dull glazed expression lacked excitement, the fun life could give if you let it. It was the missing piece of the puzzle, something Stuart hadn’t thought of till now. Joe needed some fun to bring back the excitement. Stuart’s smile spread across his face till he couldn’t contain it. He could do this. He just had to re-introduce the fun factor into Joe’s life.
Stuart fished into his pocket. Now all he needed to do was to find some fun things to do on this rock. Ambling up the slope, focusing on his phone, Stuart barely missed the giant that loomed directly in his path, sidestepping at the last second to avoid a collision. Words died on his lips when he got a good look at the size of him. Hell, he could compete with a mac truck, his shoulders appeared bigger than the boulders they used on the beach to halt the erosion.
Moving back, Stuart disregarded his sense of foreboding, thinking he was being stupid. He cast a quick glance about, seeing no one around, though that wasn’t surprising on a Saturday evening. Stuart had to wonder why the guy had stepped into his path.
Steely eyes glinted out from under a dark hood. The hard face seemed to wear a thunderous expression, making Stuart’s heart rate accelerate as if sensing danger. Stuart gripped his phone, not sure if he preparing to fight or flee.
“Can I help you?” Stuart hated the slight quiver in his voice, when he spoke. Convinced he wasn’t going to get an answer. Stuart was surprised, and then chilled to the bone, when the hulk answered him.
“No, not yet, but you will.” The menacing undertone no less sinister when spoken in a whispered rasp.
The impulse to ask what he meant died when he moved back into the shadows quicker than Stuart would expect for such a big man. What on earth was that about?
He shook off the ominous feelings, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a little silly at being so spooked. His gut, on the other hand, wasn’t in agreement telling him something was off, but what, he had not a bloody clue. Hurrying back up the path, he spooked himself with thoughts of what had happened to Brad months earlier.
“Stop being a prick. You’re so not helping the situation.” Muttering, he flicked a quick glance back, breathing a sigh of relief when there was no sign of the hulk. Scaredy cat, Stuart let lose a chuckle at his silly thoughts.
Breathless from the rush up the path, he hit the road panting, pleased to see the welcoming lights of his home. He burst inside, locking the door behind him without a second thought. Uneasy for his run in, he listening to the urge and went to check that Joe was alright. Following the sound of thrumming music upstair
s, Stuart tapped on the door. Waiting a moment, he tapped louder thinking Joe couldn’t hear him past the raspy lyrics of Pink. He released a relieved breath when the door opened.
Stuart aimed for a friendly smile, “I just wanted to see if you fancied some dessert.” The lie tripped off his tongue before he could stop it. Mind whirling, did they even have any in the house, shit.
“Err, I, emm.” Joe’s flustered words had a lovely blush stain his cheeks, reminding Stuart of when they were in the garden.
Stuart tried to ignore his growing desire, along with his instant disappointment, when sexy chocolate eyes avoided looking directly at him.
Joe’s awkward foot hopping caused Stuart to swallow the chuckle that wanted to escape. He really was cuteness personified.
Joe’s warm fingers absently brushed against Stuart’s laying against the door frame. His skin tingled in pleasure for a second before Joe whipped his hand away.
“Holy shit, Stuart, have you been in a freezer, you’re fucking frozen.” His obvious concern had warmth spreading into the ache Joe’s hand snatching back had caused. It was utterly useless when Joe grabbed both his hands between his roughened palms rubbing vigorously; to tell himself it didn’t mean anything.
Stuart watched from hooded lids as Joe stepped closer, his body heat tantalising along with the ever-present whiff of crisp green apples. Stuart supposed it must be something he washed with, but God he smelt good enough to sink his teeth into. Tingling took hold of Stuart’s body as his body temperature climbed, reacting to Joe’s proximity. Hoping Joe wouldn’t notice his growing desire, it would seem even the cold was no defence against Joe.
All rational thought fled as Joe’s fingers moved up his arms leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He moaned against his will, skin humming from the attention. The sudden stillness had him realising his mistake, cursing under his breath, he knew he was in a world of trouble.
