Best Love

by Morton, Lily

  Sage is greeted left and right. A few men pull him over to thank him for tattoos. Others hug him and whisper what are obviously invitations in his ear. He smiles at everyone, discusses tattoos and declines the invitations, all the while holding tightly to my hand.

  We finally end up at the bar. He orders Thunderball shots with a curving twist to his mouth, and I shake my head. “Fuck off. This is just asking for trouble.”

  He laughs and hands me the drink. “Down them and then we dance.”

  As if synchronised we throw the drinks back and I gasp as the alcohol burns my sinuses. Then I’m being pulled onto the dance floor, Sage holding firmly to my hand so he doesn’t lose me. He pushes his way into the middle just as one of our favourite songs comes on. All around us people twist and writhe, and my blood starts a low simmer as Sage pulls me close and starts to dance.

  We’ve always danced well. We sneaked into our first club together aged sixteen, and we’ve always loved it. On the dancefloor is where I know that we would be a perfect match in bed, because our bodies move as if they’re connected by glittery ropes, echoing and following each other’s movements without any cues. Turning and twisting in perfect harmony.

  It’s a painful knowledge and the reason why I haven’t been to many clubs with him over the last year or so. To be this close and then to be pulled away, created an ache inside me which has grown to painful proportions.

  We dance for a long time, sweat dripping from our bodies, and tonight I push my reservations aside because I’m in too deep. Too deep in the feel of his body as it moves against mine, sliding sinuously to the beat of the music. Too deep in the scent of bergamot and the almond of his shampoo which intensifies as we get hot.

  He turns and backs up to me, grinding his arse against my crotch in one of our well used dance moves. Usually, I’d move back slightly. But suddenly a feeling of recklessness fills me, and instead I grab his narrow hips and pull him into me, and I know the exact moment he can feel my cock which is hard and pulsing.

  For a second he stiffens, and I expect him to pull back and make a joking remark. We grew up together and have talked and been through so much, what’s an erection between friends? Instead, I reel as he pushes his arse firmly into the cradle of my crotch and starts to move. Only now it’s a slow glide and pulse, echoed by the sultry song that’s starting to play. For a second I stand still, shocked and insanely turned on. This isn’t us. This is the us I dream of and know I can’t have.

  Then the sparks from the alcohol kindle the embers in my blood, and instead of making a joke I gather him close to me. I pull his hips in further, my fingers digging into the sharp hipbones, before sliding under his shirt and caressing the sleek skin drawn tight over the sharp lines of his abs. My fingers move as if they’re being compelled, and I don’t think I can stop this, or if I even want to. My thoughts and doubts grow indistinct as I hear him moan under his breath, and I switch my brain off.

  In the middle of a mass of bodies we writhe together. He rubs his arse firmly over my cock, almost riding it so that the pressure nearly blows my brain circuits. I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips and he shudders as he hears it, and then he cries out as I send my hands up his chest under the shirt and twist his hard nipples. I know in theory that he’s very sensitive there because he’s told me many times. Theory, however, can’t describe the feeling of power and protectiveness and teeth clenching lust inside me when he utters a sharp cry and pushes back against me, before grabbing one of my hands and bringing it down to his cock. I grunt as I feel the hard bulge under the cloth, and he groans.

  I actually don’t know what would have happened next, because all of my brain has shut down, narrowed to the point of my existence, which is rubbing my palm over his cock for the first time. I’d like to say we wouldn’t have fucked on the dancefloor, but I’m so far gone at this point I can’t say for sure. However, we aren’t tested, because I hear a shout of Sage, and someone pushes me away from him.

  I look up and groan as I see Richard, Sage’s ex-boyfriend, standing there. I’m not surprised to see him as he’s often in here and he’s obviously the one who pushed me. He’s standing in front of Sage, who is ignoring him and reaching for me.

  “Are you alright?” Sage shouts over the music, and I nod before glaring at Richard.

  “What the fuck was that for?” I shout, and Richard shakes his head.

  “I always knew there was something going on between the two of you,” he shouts.

  “You’re delusional.” I shake my head disgustedly. “Those steroids have rotted your brain. We’re just friends.” The words sound horrible in my mouth, and his face twists in anger.

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s the fucking truth, you wanker.”

  He sticks his face close to me, rage red on his skin. “So, Sage and I didn’t end our relationship because he was in love with you, then?” he hisses.

  I stagger back feeling like he’s punched me, and Sage pushes forward.

  “What?” he asks urgently. “What did he say?”

  Richard shakes his head and pulls Sage off the dancefloor, leaving me staring after them.

  I come to when a smaller man starts to grind against me. Shaking my head, I push my way off the dancefloor and through the crowd. It takes me a few minutes, but finally I find them. They’re standing to the side of one of the bars, and the music is a little quieter here. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Richard is waving his arms around and Sage is standing staring at him. Arms folded over his chest, he has a mulish look on his face.

  Standing here like this feels so familiar. Me watching them arguing or laughing or kissing in clubs. I close my eyes. I remember so clearly when we met Richard. He joined our college in the last year of our course, and being tall and sporty with shiny blond hair he immediately caused quite a stir. He became friends with Sage, bonding over a shared love of football, and gradually inserted himself into our group. He seemed to dislike me from the start, but had hidden it for a long time.

  At the time, I hadn’t paid him much attention because I was struggling with the intensity of my feelings for Sage. They’d crept up on me steadily, until I came to realise that I was in love with my best friend. I’d always been attracted to everything about him, but one day I said something and he laughed loudly, his head thrown back and his eyes creased, and I realised that he was everything I wanted.

  The realisation was both exhilarating and utterly terrifying, and I fought it for a long time because the thought of confessing my feelings and having him reject me was too awful. I could lose him and our friendship in one go, so I hesitated. I hesitated for too long.

  I still remember that day. We were sitting in the canteen at college. Sage was chattering about a local band he wanted to see. Richard was listening to him intently as usual, while I fiddled with my sandwich, trying not to concentrate on the fact that Sage’s thigh was touching mine and the warmth of his arm lay along the back of my chair, his fingers playing with the ends of my hair. Sage was always incredibly tactile, and sometimes it drove me mad because I was seventeen and could pop a boner seemingly at any second.

  At that point, I became aware of a silence. I looked up to find Sage looking at me questioningly and Richard rolling his eyes.

  “What?” I asked, and Sage opened his mouth, but I never heard what he was going to say, because Richard broke the silence.

  “I’ll take you,” he said, leaning forward in his seat and staring at Sage. “I love that band.”

  For a second Sage stared at me. His expression was enigmatic, but his body seemed to be thrumming with repressed energy. “What do you think?” he finally said. “Do you want to go?”

  I looked at them and I remember it to this day. They were sitting side by side and they looked amazing with Sage’s dark beauty against Richard’s golden looks, and I felt a deep despair. Sage was obviously just being polite and inviting his best friend along so I didn’t feel left out. I felt all my hopes and dream
s fall away and could almost hear the sound they made when they hit the floor.

  I made myself shake my head and stood up from the table. Gathering my tray, I smiled. “Nah, I’ll give it a miss. You go with Richard, Sage.”

  I remember Richard’s triumphant smile like it was yesterday, but the thing I remember most is the strange look I saw on Sage’s face. Part disappointment and part something that looked very much like devastation. However, it had cleared immediately, and he smiled and accepted Richard’s invitation.

  They started going out together after that date and were together for four years. Meanwhile, I pushed my feelings down deep and quietly accepted an offer to go to a university far enough away that I couldn’t come home often. I kept in contact with Sage and our friendship survived, but there was a small fissure running through the previously intact surface that was caused by my feelings.

  I loved university and had put down the foundations of myself. I slept with men and identified my preferences through trial and error, but nobody ever came close to Sage.

  A man stumbles into me, breaking my thoughts. I look over and they’re still talking angrily, but Richard is closer to Sage than he previously was, and suddenly I’m sick of this. I’m sick of standing on the outskirts watching the two of them. It isn’t healthy. This is exactly why I joined the dating app, and yet here I still am. Mind made up, I turn and make my way towards the exit. I don’t trust myself to talk to Sage at the moment.

  Five

  The air outside hits me like a slap and I shiver, regretting my decision not to bring a coat. Unable to stand still I start to walk down the street, keeping an eye out for a taxi. The shout of my name catches me by surprise, and I turn to see Sage running down the road towards me, followed by Richard. He pulls up when he’s standing in front of me, panting and shivering.

  “Where’s your coat?” I say quickly. “You’re shivering.”

  “Couldn’t wait. I had to find you.” Pink and red lights dance over his face and I realise that we’re standing outside the card shop where I’d stood yesterday wondering whether to meet my blind date. It seems like many years ago. Sage’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” I finally say, wondering what the emotion is that’s almost visibly thrumming through his body.

  “But why? I thought we were together.”

  “It looked like you had other plans,” I say tersely.

  Sage immediately shakes his head and opens his mouth, but Richard breaks in.

  “You’ve seen him, babe. He’s fine and he’s going home. He’ll be happy with his book and some hot cocoa. So why don’t you come back to my place?”

  This has been played out so many times and Sage always goes with him. I go to turn away, but as Richard tugs on his arm Sage looks at me, his eyebrows arched and a curious mix of pleading sadness and whimsical amusement on his face. I suddenly realise that he’s looked at me like this before. Every time Richard pulled him away, he would look back at me with this sad, clown face.

  Before, I dismissed it as being a mute apology for having a better offer, but now I’m not sure. Because now I notice how his eyes cling to mine and play over my face as if he’s leaving something important behind, and suddenly without any thought my hand reaches out and I grab his other arm.

  “No,” I say hoarsely. Richard makes a sound of derision, but I maintain my hold, clinging to the look of hope on Sage’s face that shines like a beacon. “Stay with me. Don’t go.”

  Richard throws his hands up in the air and walks away, but I lose interest because Sage is suddenly in my arms, hugging me with a warm embrace that feels like home. He pushes his hands into my hair and cradles my skull, staring at me with bright, warm eyes. “About time,” he says slowly. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

  “You’ve always waited.” My voice is full of the wonder and dawning realisation that floods my body.

  “You’re worth it,” he whispers, reaching up and drawing my head down to him. His lips touch mine, and we both pause as if amazed that we’re finally here. I look at his so familiar face and know this is one of those moments that come rarely in life, when you absolutely know that life is changing in front of you.

  Then one of us moves, I don’t know who, and our lips meet firmly and part, and my thoughts drift away. I moan as he sends his tongue into my mouth, tangling it with mine, and he gasps with his panting breath hot on my face. The kiss catches light and it feels so right, so perfectly us, that I grab him close, groaning as I feel the stiff heat of his cock against mine. It’s better than I have ever imagined.

  I grab his hips bringing him into me for a second, and then realising I need more pressure I push him backwards. He grunts and laughs as I push him into the shop window, but it turns into a groan as I take his mouth again, biting his lips and pushing my cock against his and grinding.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, breaking the kiss and leaning his head back against the glass. The blinking pink and red lights cast him into alternative light and dark, highlighting his kiss-bitten lips and lusty expression one minute, and hiding it the next.

  “I want you so much,” I whisper, and he smiles.

  “Let’s go back to yours.” I hesitate and his smile fades. “What?”

  “If we do this, Sage, I can’t be a hook-up. I just can’t.”

  He looks suddenly hurt. “Why would you be a hook-up?”

  “Because I’ve seen you. That’s what you do.”

  His expression clears and a dazzling smile crosses his face. “That’s because I didn’t have you.”

  “What?”

  He shakes his head with a tender look on his face. “It’s always been you, Noah. Always. That’s why I never settled.” He pauses and swallows hard, before saying in a rush, “I’ve always been in love with you.”

  I hold still in stunned disbelief. “With me?”

  He laughs. “Who else, you idiot?”

  I feel a wave of warmth and happiness whoosh through me, but bewilderment stirs. “But, why me?”

  He shakes his head ruefully. “I wish you saw yourself the way you really are. I love you because you’re you, and we fit together like nothing I’ve ever known. Since the day I met you I’ve been yours in one way or another.”

  “But Richard?”

  He grimaces. “I feel really guilty about that. I have for a long time. I cared for him and for a while I convinced myself I could love him.” He shrugs. “It was about the time you brought Hugo home from university and I thought my chance had gone.”

  “Hugo?” I say as if he’s a stranger I’ve never met. “I never loved him.”

  “Why?” His question is sharp. “You were so well suited.”

  I always thought I’d hesitate if given this chance. The surprise is how easy it is to say the next words. “I couldn’t love him, because I already loved someone else.”

  “Who?” It’s a whisper.

  I smile at him. “You know who. It’s always been you.”

  He grabs my face, tilting it so he can see clearly. His expression is alight with fierce tenderness and I smile.

  “Why?” he asks fiercely.

  “Because you’re my best everything. How could I not love you?”

  He laughs exultantly and takes my mouth with a hard kiss. When he pulls back our lips are swollen and our breaths are rushed.

  “Take me home,” he commands. “I need to fuck you.”

  My hand shoots up like it’s not attached to my brain. “Taxi!” I shout into the street at an oncoming car. His laughter follows me into the back seat.

  We burst into my flat in a flash of uncoordinated movements and laughter. We kiss furiously but then break away to strip our clothes off. He gasps as I hit him in the throat trying to unbutton his shirt. Then it’s my turn to grunt as he tries to rip my shirt off without undoing the buttons and it gets stuck on my face.

  “Ow,” I manage to say through a mouthful of cotton, the button wedged uncomfortably under
my nose.

  “Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” he gasps, pulling the shirt down carefully so he can unbutton it properly. He manages one button before grabbing the edges of the shirt and ripping it apart.

  “Eager?” I ask wryly, and he grins, throwing the pieces to one side.

  “Not that much. But just to be on the safe side you’d better unzip your trousers yourself.”

  I grimace and instantly start to unzip. “You too,” I say hurriedly. “Let’s not waste time.” I look up and still my movements when I see him. He’s leaning against the door staring at me with a strange look on his face. “What?”

  “Just looking at you. I want to remember this.”

  “Why? We’ll have plenty of times to do this,” I say practically. “You should be utilising the time properly to get naked so you can fuck me.”

  His eyes darken and he straightens up slowly from the wall. “You’re right,” he says deeply, and he unzips his trousers, the noise loud in the suddenly quiet room. However, instead of rushing like I requested, he goes slow. Tortoise slow. No. Glacier slow. His trousers unzipped, he pushes his fingers under the waistband, sliding the material down his narrow hips an inch at a time. They lower slowly and I swallow hard as the material opens and all that comes into view are dark curls.

  “Shit.” I whisper reverently. “You’re going commando.”

  He smiles. “Always, babe. I can’t abide underwear.”

  “You should always go with your feelings,” I say fervently. “Always.”

  He laughs and winks. “Your time management seems to have gone off the boil.”

  “What?”

  He nods at my trousers, and I blink as I realise that I’m standing stock still, all attempts at undressing abandoned in favour of watching his sexy striptease.

  “I’m going to turn my back,” I say gruffly. “If I look at you I’ll stop what I’m doing again, or I’ll just come.”