The Making of Us

by Debbie McGowan

  “Condoms,” I said.

  “Yeah. And lube.” Leigh’s fingers continued to spiral, down past my belly button. I kind of melted into the mattress. Leigh chuckled. “You like that idea.”

  God, I was glad the lights were out. “I like what you’re doing,” I agreed, and then stopped breathing mid-inhalation as Leigh’s hand brushed my erection through my pyjamas.

  “Want me to stop?”

  “Nope.” Not ever.

  The gentle pressure shifted the fabric up and down with Leigh’s palm, creating a warm friction that felt bloody amazing. They shuffled closer, and we kissed, our lips matching the slow rhythm Leigh had set. The pressure became a grip around me, moving my skin now, rather than my PJs. Without the alcohol in my system, it would’ve been over in seconds. With it, I might last…oh, a minute? It also gave me the courage to follow Leigh’s lead. My palm skimmed their belly, and—

  “Nuh-uh.” The rebuttal vibrated my tongue, and they dodged away.

  “Nn-nnn?” Which loosely translated to ‘why not?’

  “I want to concentrate on what I’m doing.”

  “But I want to touch you.”

  “Soon.”

  “Should we be doing this when we’re drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk. Are you?”

  “I’m not sober,” I admitted. But no, I wasn’t drunk, and if I was making no sense, it was because of Leigh’s touch and the kisses. It was different from when I did this myself. No build-up in intensity to a quick release. I was on the edge, desperately holding out because I didn’t want it to stop, but feeling selfish for taking so greedily without giving back. Did ‘soon’ mean once I was done? It would be worth rushing it for that.

  The decision was taken away from me when I felt air sneak through the gap between the elasticated waistband of my pyjamas and my belly, followed by Leigh’s hand. My breathing was all over the place, and I could no longer keep still. Reinstating their grip, Leigh made short, rapid tugs, and I couldn’t help it. I pushed up into their hand, heroically holding out even though this was the most intense, incredible experience ever.

  Leigh paused—“Let’s try lube”—and reached under their pillow. I watched them in my peripheral vision, tempted to turn on the light so I could properly see. Plastic crinkled, a box flicked open, further crinkling…Leigh held up something small and square.

  “That’s lube?”

  “I’d say so. It’s squidgy.” They brought it to their face and used their teeth to tear the packet open. “Blurgh. That is not nice.”

  “What does it taste of?”

  “Nothing. It’s just…” Leigh giggled. “Su-per slippery!”

  They’d given me the giggles, too, until they kissed me and I got to see what they meant. It was a bit like the aftermath of a snotty sneeze.

  “OK, are you ready?” they asked.

  “Yeah.” I braced, expecting a blob of cold gel to land on me, soon after discovering Leigh had spread the lube over their palm. It was warm, and awesome, and too much.

  “Stop,” I said very quickly and held my breath.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s OK. Um…I’m… I’m almost there already.”

  “Just do it.”

  “But…it’s nice.”

  Leigh gave a dirty chuckle and murmured deeply against my lips, “Do it.” They resumed the motion, letting their hand slide all the way up, and down, and up, and down, slowly, but getting faster. I clamped my lips tight together, but it was no use, and Leigh knew it. Their mouth came down on mine as I gasped and tensed.

  I felt the rush; everything around us fell away, leaving only the intense peak of ecstasy, within which my brain threw out I’m shooting all over Leigh’s hand. Except Leigh didn’t seem to care. They were still kissing me, and slowing, slowing…

  “Oh, God.” I was out of breath and out of spit and a tiny bit out of my mind. I swallowed. “Need a drink.”

  “I’ll get you one. And some tissue.”

  “Thank you.” Through the blissful haze of my high, I watched Leigh slide the door back and slip through the gap. Slap, slap, slap, slap of bare feet on vinyl, running water, glass filling, a paper-towel rip. They came back, slid the door shut and handed me the paper towel, then knelt by, glass in hand. I got the feeling they were watching me clean up, but it was too dark to tell. Whatever, I couldn’t exactly be embarrassed when they’d just given me my first orgasm at someone else’s hand. It felt like a precious gift.

  Cleaned up and almost back on Earth, my self-consciousness returned, and I covered up.

  “Do you want this water?” Leigh asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” I took the glass from them, checking Leigh’s profile to see what state they were in. Still aroused. I glugged the water and put the glass on the window ledge. “Your turn now?”

  Leigh literally leapt into the bed. “I didn’t think you’d still want to.”

  “I still want to,” I confirmed, rolling onto my side.

  I started with the same slow build-up Leigh had given me, following the dip down the centre of their stomach with my fingertips, mapping their skin, down and up and around and down, to where the light stubble gave way to unwaxed hair. I’d reached Leigh’s pyjamas and tugged one end of the cord, felt the resistance and then slackness as the bow unravelled. Tracing the edge of the fabric, I gradually worked my fingers beneath it, slowly, relishing every touch. God, they were beautiful.

  Leigh arched and sighed. “You’re, um, ready again?”

  “Yeah.” Because touching Leigh turned me on as much as Leigh touching me, although I hadn’t been conscious of thrusting against their hip. Now I was, I stopped, or tried to, but my body seemed intent on doing its own thing.

  “Hold on.” Leigh cast aside their top and shoved their pyjama bottoms down to their thighs. “OK. We should maybe do this with lube.”

  “Is there any left?”

  “Yep. I only used half of it.” They held up the sachet. “Give me your hand.” I did so, and Leigh smeared the gel over my fingers and palm. I used my thumb to spread it a little, and also to delay. I was nervous. I wanted so badly to get this right for Leigh. Returning my hand to its previous position, just above where I needed to be, I edged closer, being guided by Leigh’s long breaths and the roll of their hips.

  “Are you deliberately teasing me?”

  “Um…kind of?”

  “OK. It’s nice, but…” Leigh reached down and moved my hand. “There.” They resumed rolling their hips. I curled my fingers and thumb around them, experiencing a brief moment of oh, God, I’m actually doing this. Leigh pushed up into my hand. “Like that,” they whispered, massively boosting my confidence. I squeezed tighter and moved my hand in opposition to Leigh’s thrusts, so aroused, and yet I was also struck by the wonder of it all—the beauty of Leigh moving to my touch, simply the beauty of their body… How was it they could feel the same desire for me as I felt for them? Was it even possible? I wished we’d left the light on so I could watch them. Was that weird? Did I even care if it was?

  In the absence of my vision, I took a chance on exploring with my mouth, placing a kiss on Leigh’s shoulder and nipping lightly at their skin with my lips. Their breathing became faster as I worked my way along their collarbone, down the centre of their chest, taking a detour and searching out their nipple, closing my lips around it. I heard Leigh whisper oh my god, and then they were reaching down between us, no hesitation this time as they slipped their hand inside my pyjamas.

  “Leigh…”

  “Don’t stop.” The words were barely out before they drew an enormous breath, held it, and then released it in short, sharp bursts. I could no longer keep a rhythm with my hand, but I guessed I didn’t need to as Leigh jolted sharply. I stopped; they didn’t. Aaand…there went another pair of pyjamas.

  Lucky we were going home tomorrow.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Leaving was at least twice as bad as Noah had anticipated. E
ven the dogs were subdued as we said our goodbyes and thank-yous to Stuart, and then said them all over again at the coach station, where Matty and his nan wept and wept.

  “Now then…” Hazel advanced on Noah, who had held out pretty well until that point, but her hug set him off. I quickly diverted my attention to our coach, willing the doors to open and save us from our sadness. “You look after yourself, all right?”

  “I will, Nan.” Noah sniffed.

  “And if your brother don’t mind having us camp in the backyard, we’ll be seeing you at Christmas, won’t we?”

  Which was what? Seven weeks away? Yes, I was thinking like a big old meanie, because I knew the second Hazel put her arms around me, I was done for. She advanced; I blubbed.

  “Thanks for coming, me ’ansum. You’re both welcome anytime, with or without these two.”

  “Thanks, Hazel.” I knew by now that she called everyone ‘me ’ansum’, but it worked its magic on me just the same.

  She released me and moved on to Leigh. “You take good care of him. He’s a good’n.”

  “Yeah, he is.” Leigh smiled at me over Hazel’s shoulder. “Thank you for having us.”

  “My pleasure.”

  The coach doors swished open, and one of the crew came out, ready to start loading up. Hazel and Matty were saying goodbye for real, so we three handed our bags over and climbed aboard to wait, refusing to watch them through the window. Everyone else was on board by the time Matty made it to his seat and swapped his contacts for his glasses.

  We spent the long, long eight-hour journey back to London intermittently jollying Matty along, or sitting in silence while he napped. Noah didn’t even take out his Kindle. A further two hours in the four-by-four, I could barely keep my eyes open and didn’t notice we’d stopped outside the flat. With a flap of my arm approximating a wave as Adam pulled away, I staggered up the stairs and tumbled through the door. Home, at last. “Hey, Mum.”

  “Hello, love.” She came out to greet me. “How was it?”

  “Great. I’m knackered. Going to bed.” I kissed her cheek and lurched the short distance to my room. “Night, Mum.”

  “Night, love.”

  “Bought you a zebra.”

  “Another one?”

  I smiled as I closed the door with my back, stripped down to t-shirt and boxers and fell into bed.

  ***

  I missed Leigh. From the second I woke up, I missed them being at my side for tight-lipped morning kisses and giggles at Matty’s antics. Within minutes, I was sliding into the post-holiday blues and tugged my pillow from under to over my head. God, this was awful.

  “Jesse?”

  I wanted to cry ‘go away!’ I didn’t, though. “Yeah?”

  My bedroom door opened. “Wasn’t sure if you were awake. Cup of tea.”

  I curled back one end of my pillow and squinted up at my mum as she put the cup on my bedside table. “Thanks.”

  She bustled away. “Bring your washing with you when you get up.”

  “OK.” That’s if I get up. I had nothing to get up for—well, dinner at my grandma’s later. Otherwise? Meh.

  Would Leigh be up yet? I had no idea what time it was; my phone was in my jeans, and my jeans were on the floor on the other side of the room. I threw my pillow aside and searched for my target in advance, to minimise out-of-bed time.

  No jeans on the floor. No socks, shirt…

  “Mum?” I scrambled out of bed and launched for my door. “Mum! My phone’s in my jeans!” The washing machine reached the spin cycle. Too late.

  “Looking for this?”

  It appeared in front of me.

  “Thank God.”

  She lightly flicked my ear and then grimaced at my eyebrow. “Like I’m going to put your clothes in the wash without checking the pockets first.”

  I took my phone and plodded away, not surprised to find it was dead, but I had more urgent needs than digging my charger out of my bag. Specifically, a bladder that felt ready to burst. I dealt with that and brushed my teeth while I was at it, watching my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I hadn’t done that in ages, and I was quite happy with what I saw. My beard was too long, and my hair was getting a bit that way, but…yeah. I looked OK. Sunday morning rugged. And I loved my piercing, whatever my mum thought of it. Not much, apparently.

  Back in my room, I plugged my phone in and hopped under the duvet. Awesome—a still-warm bed, so comfy after a week of sleeping on a piece of foam, although I’d have sacrificed it to wake up next to Leigh. Oh, well. Nothing I could do but drink my tea, maybe sneak in a bit more sleep…

  “Have you gone back to bed?”

  “Yep. Why? Is it illegal?”

  I heard Mum huff through the closed door. “Don’t stay there all day.”

  “I won’t,” I promised. She could be a bit of a nag about me sleeping in, but I understood why. In my teens, I used to stay up late and then not be able to sleep, so I’d end up going to school on two hours’ sleep, come home, nap, stay up late…and so on. I’d broken the cycle—with my mum’s assistance—when I’d started uni, but it probably wouldn’t take much to fall back into it again, so I would get up soon. Once I’d drunk my tea and virtually checked in on Leigh…or once they’d checked in on me, seeing as my phone went straight from the start-up screen to an incoming call.

  “Good morning!” I greeted them.

  “Good morning. You sound cheery.”

  “I am now. How are you today?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. I’m coming over.”

  “OK. When?”

  “Now? I caught the bus. Remember how noisy the baboons were at the zoo? That’s the farmhouse this morning.”

  “OK, well, I’ll see you soon, I guess. How long you gonna be?”

  “About…five seconds?” The buzzer sounded for the front door.

  “You’re kidding me. I’m still in bed!”

  “Don’t move.”

  “There’s no way my mu…” I stopped and listened to Mum greet Leigh.

  The front door closed, and my mum said, “He’s in his pit. Maybe you can lure him out of it.”

  “I’ll have a go,” Leigh replied with a laugh.

  Huh. OK, so, I was wrong about that.

  “What… How…Wh…” Leigh straddled me and muted my astonishment with a kiss. I put my arms around them and went with it.

  It was a long kiss—thank goodness I’d brushed my teeth—which Leigh eventually ended with a lip-smack noise and a smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi. This is a wonderful surprise.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  Given where Leigh was sitting, they knew exactly how much I liked it. “We can’t…” I tilted my head meaningfully towards my bedroom door.

  “I know.” They lifted one leg, gesturing for me to move over. I shuffled towards the wall, and they settled next to me, my arm under their neck, theirs over my chest. “I thought you’d probably have loads to do today, so I’ve brought some work with me.”

  “We’re having a study day together?”

  “If that’s OK? I mean, I can go up to uni if I’m gonna be in the way.”

  I captured them with both arms and squeezed. They squeaked. I eased off a little. “I’m totally up for a study day together.” Or anything, so long as it was together. “Do you need to be back for a certain time?”

  “Nope.”

  “OK. Want to meet my grandma?”

  “I’d love to! But shouldn’t you ask your mum first?”

  I lifted my head and shouted, “Mum? Please can Leigh come to Grandma’s with us?”

  “Of course they can.”

  “Thanks.” I kissed Leigh’s head. “I knew she’d be fine. She let you come in here.” More to the point, she hadn’t intruded, or even so much as hinted we shouldn’t be in my room with the door shut and me half-naked. She did, however, turn the vacuum cleaner on—my cue to drag myself out of ‘my pit’ and shower. Leigh went through to the kitchen.

&nb
sp; When I arrived, fifteen minutes later, they’d already got their tablet and books out on the kitchen table and were making three cups of tea. I snuck up behind and wrapped my arms around their waist. “I missed you this morning.”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Mmm.” I inhaled their scent and sighed. “I think I might be addicted.” I nuzzled Leigh’s neck. They giggled and trapped my chin between their shoulder and cheek.

  “Mother in the room…” A hand reached around us and took one of the cups. “Thank you, love. Mother exiting the room…”

  I laughed, a tiny bit embarrassed, but it was done now. She’d seen us.

  “Your mum rocks.”

  “She does,” I agreed, even if she was now singing ‘It Must Be Love’—and not quietly—in the living room.

  After that, Leigh and I got down to uni work until lunchtime, when we stopped to eat and Leigh told me about the earlier hoo-ha at the farmhouse. Noah’s mum and dad had turned up with Lily—his younger sister—first thing, ‘ready to party’, as Leigh put it. My poor mate. He’d be out of his mind by now, if they were still there. I remembered how excited they’d been when Adam and Sol got married. They loved big family celebrations—loud music, beer, tons of food. But Noah didn’t, and when it came to his and Matty’s wedding, I’d be making sure it was the kind of day they wanted, whatever the rest of the Ashtons had to say about it. I wasn’t afraid. Much.

  ***

  My grandma, unlike my mum, didn’t ask questions. She worked people out by watching and listening to them, but not in an obvious way that made them self-conscious, so I hadn’t bothered to warn Leigh about it, but I did warn them about my grandma’s limited mobility and the reason for it.

  “OK,” Leigh said lightly, though I still caught the flash of annoyance.

  “I’m sorry. I know you think I’m obsessed with body size—”

  “I don’t care, Jesse. I wish you believed me.”

  “I do, kind of. But my grandma…” I wasn’t sure I could put it into words, because it was more than fighting the stigma of obesity. It was the shadow of death that loomed over my mum and me, the reality of being ‘morbidly obese’. My grandad died of a heart attack at sixty-five; my dad was only forty-eight when he died. The doctor had told my grandma it was a miracle she wasn’t dead already, which was cruel but true. And scary as hell.