A Ballad of Confetti, Cake and Catastrophes

by Helen Juliet

  “Very romantic,” agreed Fynn, giving him another kiss.

  But Nicholas realised he might have put his foot in it and felt the familiar hint of embarrassment flush up his neck. “Oh, uh,” he spluttered, not quite able to meet Fynn’s eye. “Not that I meant that this was a date…”

  “It isn’t?” Nicholas peeked up between his lashes at him. Fynn looked amused, and he rubbed his hand up and down Nicholas’s back.

  “Erm,” he ventured, attempting to be brave. “Can it be?”

  Fynn grinned and gave him a long kiss. “I promise, once the wedding is over and we get some sunshine, I’ll swap some shifts around and take you out to dinner, okay? But, yeah, I think this counts as a first date.”

  The thought made Nicholas dizzy.

  He didn’t know where this was going, or what ‘this’ even was yet. But if he got to have one date with Fynn today, and they were already talking about the next one, that seemed incredibly exciting to him.

  Nicholas’s mum had a thing against having hot food in the bedrooms, or anything that would get bits in the covers, so he wasn’t accustomed to having much more than cups of tea in bed. But Fynn’s room was more like his own little apartment, especially with the independence of the en-suite. So it didn’t seem so strange to have a pair of bean-bag trays propped on their laps, with glasses of juice and the doughnut box waiting for them on the bedside cabinets. They snuggled close together, and Fynn used his phone to start the film.

  Nicholas quickly realised he wasn’t a big fan of anime. Or at least, this particular kind of anime; he’d most certainly gone through a Pokémon phase in his youth. This was beautiful, for sure, and he could appreciate the depth and complexity of the plot. But he couldn’t seem to keep his full attention on it. He guessed he preferred his action and sci-fi with a bit more humour.

  Still, he absolutely loved being cuddled up with Fynn; they were actually under the covers. He didn’t care they both still had their jeans on, the concept was definitely heady. The pasta was creamy and tangy, with tender lumps of bacon lurking in the sauce, and Nicholas was more than occupied for some time in cleaning his plate. That and the Krispy Kremes got him over halfway through the film, and then Fynn encouraged him to lay against his side, his head resting on the dip between his shoulder and his chest.

  Nicholas was still most definitely praying for the rain to pack up by Saturday. But in that moment, it made him feel so cosy, being all wrapped up with a gorgeous guy, hidden away from the gloom in their little bubble of contentment. Ordinarily, if he was bored during a film, he’d start chatting, asking questions, or purposefully trying to distract his companions by whatever means possible. But seeing Fynn so wrapped up in the action was its own reward, and he allowed himself to flit his eyes between the screen and his date, letting his mind wander.

  He couldn’t believe it had only been five days since misfortune had thrown them together. He could never have predicted that this was how events would turn out; that he’d realise his own sexuality in such a sudden manner, and then that this gorgeous boy would be the one to make the first move on him. Him. Little Nicholas Herald, who wasn’t particularly special or good at anything, had caught the eye of such a stunning, talented hottie. He felt like he was in a fairy-tale.

  “What?”

  Nicholas hadn’t realised he had been staring. But Fynn was now looking down him with mischief. “What?” Nicholas repeated back.

  Fynn bit his lip and arched the pierced eyebrow. Nicholas quite liked when he did that. “You’re missing the end of the film,” he chastised, but Nicholas was pretty sure he didn’t really mind.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said anyway. He made a show of readjusting himself and concentrating on the screen.

  After a few minutes, he could feel a hole being burned into the top of his head. “What?” he demanded, glancing upwards. He had a feeling though that the smirk on his face gave him away.

  “Nothing,” said Fynn devilishly.

  It was a good job they’d already moved the trays and plates away to the floor, because it meant there was nothing to hinder Fynn as he shimmied down under the covers, coming face to face with Nicholas.

  “Hi,” said Nicholas nervously.

  Both their heads were comfortably on the pillows now, and Fynn pulled their bodies closer together, his arms and legs all wrapped around Nicholas. He felt deliciously trapped.

  “Hello,” replied Fynn. There was a teasing note to his voice, and Nicholas might have thought before that Fynn was mocking him. But now, after a few days spent getting to know him, it just sent a shiver down his spine.

  The kissing started off slowly. Fynn’s hands drifted along Nicholas’s arms and down his back. But then the top hand slipped under his t-shirt, skimming across his hip, and the temperature under the duvet shot up several degrees in an instant.

  Nicholas moaned and chased the touch, making Fynn laugh into his mouth. Nicholas growled. It probably sounded like a puppy, but he tried to make it commanding, and without thinking, made the bold move of capturing Fynn’s lower lip between his teeth.

  He was still vaguely aware of the film still playing in the background as Fynn suddenly shifted so he was straddling Nicholas, looming over him with the covers pooled around his waist. He licked the lip Nicholas had just nipped. And then he took his t-shirt off.

  It was one fluid motion. He just reached over his back, seized the material, and with one tug it whipped past his head, banished to the floor. Nicholas gulped. He had no finesse whatsoever, and fumbled even the basic task of trying to remove his glasses. But then Fynn’s fingers were brushing his temples, and he gently pulled them from Nicholas’s face, taking care as he laid them by the empty box of doughnuts.

  He stared at Fynn’s chest, running his hands over his pecs and shoulders. The few tattoos he’d already glimpsed along his arms were joined by another couple down his ribs and by his hip. They were all black ink, but other than that, Nicholas wasn’t sure what they had in common. Some were just tribal looking swirls, others were stars and animals, one looked like a quote and there was definitely some sort of magical-looking pirate scene going on over his left shoulder and down to his bicep. Nicholas would have to ask him about them one day.

  Fynn wasn’t overly muscly, but he had good definition. Nicholas had never had any interest in going to the gym, he was just naturally slim and wiry. But right then, he wished he’d made a bit of effort. He definitely didn’t want to take his own top off.

  But Fynn didn’t seem to have the same hesitations in the slightest. After allowing Nicholas to have a bit of a perv and a grope, he slipped both his hands under Nicholas’s shirt and ran them upwards, dragging the material with him. Nicholas flinched. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d reacted before he could think.

  Fynn froze immediately, and he felt a surge of guilt. He didn’t want them to stop, or for Fynn to feel bad. But he couldn’t help his hesitations.

  “Too much?” Fynn asked, because even though he was shit at texting, he was apparently pretty good at communicating in bed.

  “No, no,” Nicholas quickly insisted. “I just…well I don’t look like you.”

  “What?” Fynn cocked his head. “Black?”

  Nicholas’s laughter rang obtrusively through the quiet room. But the tension left him right away, and he slapped Fynn’s arm good-naturedly. “No, smart arse. Buff. You’re, um, you know? Pretty hot. And I’m all skinny and stuff.”

  He wasn’t surprised by the flush that blazed across his cheeks, but he was surprised by Fynn’s predatory smile. “You don’t think you’re hot?” he asked, leaning in closer.

  Nicholas scoffed. “Of course not, shut up.”

  Fynn didn’t seem convinced, judging by the way he started lacing open-mouthed kisses up Nicholas’s neck. “You don’t think you’re pretty?”

  That made Nicholas squirm. “Boys aren’t supposed to be pretty,” he said.

  Fynn came up and rubbed their noses together. Fuck, he was good at this. Nicholas fe
lt just as clumsy and inexperienced as he had yesterday, despite his little research venture the night before.

  “Says who?”

  “Like, the whole of Western society,” said Nicholas.

  “Well I like pretty boys,” said Fynn. “But I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

  Now Nicholas felt like he’d made a fuss. “Um, maybe I could get used to it?”

  Fynn kissed him on the mouth, and rolled his body down over Nicholas’s. “How about gorgeous?” he suggested. “Cute? Hella fine?”

  Nicholas squeaked out a laugh and shoved him spiritedly. “Shut up,” he said. But he didn’t really mean it.

  Fynn took his time, distracting Nicholas with kisses and stroking his large hands over his ribs and stomach. His fingertips found Nicholas’s nipples, and he was shocked at how good it felt to have someone pay attention to them. He got that boobs were important; everyone involved always seemed to enjoy those being played with. But he hadn’t appreciated it could feel good for a guy as well, and he groaned helplessly.

  This time when Fynn moved to take his t-shirt off, Nicholas helped him.

  He gasped as Fynn covered his body with his own. The sensation of so much skin on skin was incredible, and he shuddered all over. Fynn trailed his kisses away from Nicholas’s mouth, along his throat, and then down his chest, until he wrapped his lips around one of Nicholas’s nipples.

  He choked out a cry, slapping his hand over his mouth and screwing his eyes shut. The boys in the porno hadn’t done this, but they bloody should have. It was like a magic button of tingly deliciousness. He tried not to writhe, but it wasn’t easy.

  He felt the hum of Fynn’s laugh vibrate through his skin, and he wriggled and gasped in appreciation. Fynn was sucking and licking, making the soft flesh hard and sensitive. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

  Fynn didn’t stop there. He’d well and truly disappeared under the covers now, and Nicholas panted as he felt his kisses marking a path down his belly, and his fingers working on his zip, the same as yesterday. Except, this time Fynn didn’t seem intent on using his hands.

  Nicholas whimpered, and, not sure what else to do, reached up and gripped at the pillow under his head. His breathing was ragged as he felt his jeans and boxers being shifted down and the light touches of Fynn’s kisses through his thick thatch of hair. Oh fuck, he wasn’t prepared for this! Shouldn’t he have trimmed, or shaved, or washed? He’d walked here for fuck’s sake! It was probably horrible and nasty down there, and just as he’d made up his mind to lift the covers and shriek at Fynn to stop, his brain ground to a halt.

  Fynn slid his tongue over the sensitive tip and then followed it with his plush lips, giving a gentle suckle. Nicholas twitched from his head to his toes, then his whole body went slack. “Oh, oh, oh.” He couldn’t manage anything much more coherent than that. All his previous inhibitions regarding blow jobs were flying out the window into the rain.

  He bucked his hips, wanting more, but Fynn gave a muffled grunt and pushed him against the bed with both hands. Not so it hurt, but enough to make it clear he didn’t want Nicholas to fidget around too much. Nicholas cringed; he’d already fucked up.

  “Sorry,” he gasped. But he wasn’t sure Fynn heard him. He wasn’t sure he was actually annoyed either, as he hadn’t faltered in what he was doing, and Nicholas tried to relax again. Despite his squeamishness still telling him this was way out of his comfort zone, if he closed his eyes and focused on the way it felt, he could really start to enjoy it.

  Fynn had circled the fingers of one of his hands around the base of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. It didn’t hurt like he thought it would, but it did feel a bit strange, and it was definitely doing something to stave off his building climax. Tentatively, Nicholas craned his head up, wondering if it might be good to see what Fynn was doing to him. He’d liked watching the porno after all. But the only view he got was the covers bobbing over his head, so he saved his energy and dropped his head back onto the pillows with a thump.

  He had absolutely no control over the sounds coming out of his mouth. But Fynn was sucking and it was more overwhelming than anything he’d ever experienced before. He was almost relieved when it stopped, despite not reaching his climax yet, as it gave him a chance to catch his breath.

  When Fynn re-emerged, he was grinning like the Cheshire cat. His dreads were stuck out at odd angles and his lips were glistening. “I’m guessing that was okay?”

  Nicholas very nearly blurted that was his first ever blow job, and he was lucky he hadn’t come within the first five seconds. But he did have a filter sometimes, and he really didn’t want to come across any more hopeless with Fynn than he already had. So instead, he grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him sloppily.

  He tasted a little bitter and salty, and Nicholas realised he was in fact sampling his own intimate flavour. It wasn’t gross or repellent. It was, in all honestly, extremely hot. “Yeah,” he breathed between kisses. “It was brilliant, I loved it.”

  He was sort of hinting that he’d like Fynn to go back and carry on, but then something better happened. Fynn rolled off him, and made short work of kicking his own jeans and underwear off. He managed to do this while still under the covers, so Nicholas didn’t quite realise that was what was happening until he rolled back on top of him, and lined their bodies up together.

  Fynn’s cock was throbbing with heat, and it felt so good pressed up against Nicholas’s own member. His jeans were only pushed down as far as his thighs and they were getting in the way. So he tried to shove them down…and bashed his head against Fynn’s.

  He yelped out in pain as Fynn jerked back and grabbed his forehead. “Oh fuck,” Nicholas gasped. He desperately blinked away the stars and pawed at Fynn’s chest. “I’m so sorry, oh shit!”

  But Fynn was chuckling, and once he let go of his face, he planted a big kiss on Nicholas’s lips. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Let’s get you out of those jeans, shall we?”

  The two of them shoved to get the denim down over his legs, and Nicholas did the last few kicks to flick them out on the floor, along with his socks and pants. And that was it. He and Fynn were totally naked together.

  He’d caught a glimpse or two of the rest of Fynn’s body, but then he was lying on top of him again, the duvet draped over his back. He lined up their bodies so their groins were perfectly placed to rub against one another. Then, he lifted his hips and wrapped his big hand around both their cocks, forming a warm, slick tunnel for them to thrust into. If Nicholas had struggled with his timings yesterday, this threatened to undo him completely. But he held onto Fynn’s shoulders, his face screwed up in part due to the effort of concentration, but also the unparalleled sensation of feeling his dick sliding against the smooth, hard flesh of fingers and another cock.

  One of them was obviously leaking pre-cum, or maybe both of them, as the motion became more like gliding, and Nicholas knew he wasn’t going to last long. “I’m going to come,” he said between kisses and gasps for air.

  “Me too,” Fynn grunted. It only took a few more thrusts, and Nicholas could do no more to hold off his climax, firing his hot load between them with a shout. He arched his back and dug his fingers into the skin on Fynn’s back, just as Fynn buried his face against Nicholas’s neck and howled.

  For several moments, Fynn lay on Nicholas as they both panted and aftershocks rippled over their bodies. Then, with a groan, Fynn rolled to the side, and Nicholas automatically scooted over to press himself next to him.

  Nicholas hadn’t made a complete twat of himself, he supposed, but he hadn’t exactly been suave. At least this time they’d both come. What if Fynn had wanted to more, and he’d not felt Nicholas was up to it? That would suck if he gave up on him before even asking. But he hadn’t really felt up to it, so maybe he should feel relieved?

  He was over-thinking things. He really liked what they’d just done, and he hoped maybe Fynn had as well. If the stickiness between them was anything to go by
, he had, and that cheered him up and distracted him from his worries. The covers had slipped down more towards their hips, and he let out a small giggle as he poked at the mess they’d made.

  “Eww,” he said. He turned to grin at Fynn.

  Fynn responded by smothering him in a cuddle, squidging the goo even further between them. “Yum,” he countered, smacking noisy kisses over Nicholas’s chest, neck and cheeks. He laughed even harder at that.

  He’d always imaged sex would be this great big dramatic thing, undertaken with utmost respect and sincerity. He never thought it could be so fun. He reckoned he preferred it this way.

  Fynn kissed his lips softly and sweetly, but it soon became apparent that they were both getting cold and uncomfortable from all the bodily fluids drying on their skin. “You want to use the shower?” he asked, brushing some of Nicholas’s hair back where it had stuck to his damp forehead.

  Despite being a total newb, Nicholas did know a thing or two. Did Fynn mean he could use his shower…or did he want to shower together? “Um,” he said.

  He desperately didn’t want to panic now, he’d done so well with the whole getting naked part of the afternoon. But it had been easier when he’d been caught up in the throes of passion. Now he was clear headed, the idea of standing in a shower with Fynn seemed far too exposed, he cringed at just the thought of it.

  Before he could get too worked up, Fynn tapped his nose lightly with his index finger. “If you take mine, I’ll brave my aunt’s bathroom. There should be everything you need in there.”

  Nicholas felt an enormous rush of gratitude. “Okay,” he agreed. Whether Fynn had anticipated his nervousness, or read his apprehension at taking that step forward on his face, he really didn’t mind. Either option left him feeling cared for.

  He tried not to gawp as Fynn strode out of bed, but his backside was gorgeous, mouth-watering even. Fynn either didn’t notice or didn’t mind that Nicholas watched him walk out, as he didn’t falter in his step. But then he was gone, out the door and down the corridor, and Nicholas was by himself.