Contains scenes of a sexual nature.
This is the morning of our love. It's just the dawning of our love. I feel you, your precious soul, and I am whole. I feel you, your rising sun, my kingdom comes.
A few days after the utter train wreck that had been Dave’s first attempt at a proper date with Patrick, he decided to ask him out again. Dinner and a movie in Sapswell felt like a much safer choice, and they opted for pizza and a superhero film. It was a resounding success, and so he asked him out again for the following Friday, this time to The Jekyll & Hyde in Windfield Green.
That morning, he stepped into the kitchen where his mother was having breakfast. His father was already at work. ‘Mum?’
Hearing her call him that was still odd, but he was beginning to get used to it. ‘I’m going out tonight, and I was wondering . . . do you think it would be okay if I bring a friend home after?’
She put down her coffee cup. ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s a mate from school. Patrick.’
‘The one you’ve been spending so much time with lately?’
His mother studied his face for a few moments with a quizzical expression. ‘Is he a friend, or a boyfriend?’
Dave blushed and looked away. ‘Not quite a boyfriend . . . I mean, we haven’t said it out loud. But . . . yeah, sort of.’
She pursed her lips and stared at him a while longer. Then she sighed. ‘Don’t tell your father. If he asks, Patrick’s just a friend, and he’s sleeping in the guest room.’
Dave smiled slowly. ‘Thanks.’
She shrugged. ‘You’re eighteen. What you do in your bedroom is your business.’
‘It’s not even for sure he’ll be coming. I just . . . wanted to leave the possibility open. You know?’
His mother made a dismissive gesture. ‘Really, I don’t need to know anything more than that. As long as you’re being safe.’
Dave blushed again. ‘Yeah. I promise.’
She smiled at him, then. ‘Have fun tonight.’ Dave was about to leave when she spoke again. ‘By the way, I applied for that job at the surgery. I have an interview next week.’
Dave turned back to her and grinned. ‘That’s great, Mum!’ He stepped up to her and kissed her cheek. ‘That’s really great. I’ll see you later!’
* * *
‘So,’ said Patrick as they were leaving Maths that day, ‘we’re going on a date to the coffee shop we went to before? Didn’t you say coffee doesn’t count as a proper date?’
‘Well, The Jekyll & Hyde is a café in the daytime. At night, it becomes a bar. So, we’re going out for drinks, which is a date. They only serve bar snacks for food, though, so you should probably eat before you come.’
‘All right. Then I’ll see you tonight.’
It took all of Dave’s willpower not to kiss him goodbye, but Patrick was not yet out to more than a handful of people, and while people certainly suspected that they were together, Patrick wasn’t ready for them to actually know yet. So instead, Dave discreetly touched his hand as they parted, and headed off to his final lesson of the day, which was Chemistry.
Dave met up with Patrick at the bus stop at seven that evening. Patrick was dressed in jeans and a fairly loose t-shirt, with a black coat over, and looked immeasurably hot. Dave was pretty sure that he was the only person from Windfield who attended Dorcrest, so he took Patrick’s hand as they walked to the bar, earning a smile.
It was a busy night. As busy as Windfield Green got, anyway. ‘So,’ Dave said as they stepped up to the bar. ‘What’s your poison tonight?’
‘Some form of cider might be nice.’ Patrick smiled.
‘Coming right up. Why don’t you get that table over there, and I’ll be right with you.’
Dave ordered two strong, dry Cornish apple ciders, then made his way to the table where Patrick was sitting, glancing about the room. ‘Hey,’ he said as he sat down.
‘Hey.’ Patrick accepted his cider and took a sip. ‘Mm, this is nice.’
Dave tried his. ‘Yeah. None of that sweet, crappy Swedish shit you get in in the shops. Real cider is supposed to taste like ammonia and rotten apples.’
Patrick laughed. ‘Not sure I’d go that far, but it’s good. Not too sweet, like you say.’
Dave grinned and took Patrick’s hand.
They sat for a couple of hours drinking and talking, and then they played darts for a bit. At around eleven, Dave was starting to feel fairly tipsy and told Patrick as much. ‘Wanna go get some air?’
‘Sure.’ Patrick took his hand, entwining their fingers, and they left the stuffy bar in favour of the cool air outside. Then they walked a bit, through Windfield Green’s quiet streets, until Dave couldn’t help himself anymore and kissed Patrick in the shadow of a building.
Patrick was happy to be kissed and backed up against the wall, letting Dave press him up against it, hand in his hair. His mouth was open and eager, and Dave slid his tongue inside, moaning quietly into the kiss, and reached around to grope Patrick’s arse. This earned him a soft groan, and he smiled.
After several minutes of this, Dave pulled away, looking into Patrick’s eyes and brushing his auburn hair out of his eyes. ‘You are so hot,’ he murmured and kissed him again, gently. ‘I was thinking . . .’ Dave felt himself blush a little, but was sure Patrick couldn’t tell in the darkness. ‘I was hoping that maybe, if you want to and you feel up for it, that maybe you’d like to come back to my place?’
Patrick laughed softly, placing his hands on Dave’s hips and pulling him closer. Dave drew a sharp breath as he felt Patrick’s hard-on press against his thigh.
‘I really, really want to do that,’ Patrick whispered, and then he kissed him again, hard, in a clash of lips and tongues, until they were both panting, and it was all Dave could do not to moan out loud.
He heard loud voices coming down the street, several of them, all male, and reluctantly pulled away from Patrick, adjusting his rumpled jacket.
The group consisted of several boys of an age with the two of them. He recognised them from Upper Windfield Grammar School. They weren’t people he had ever hung out with, but among them were Steve Winters and Johnny McIntyre, a pair of bullies that Alan had sort of befriended for a little while when he and Dave weren’t speaking a year and a half ago. Before he had time to warn Patrick of this fact, the group seemed to spot them, and Steve called out, ‘Well, if it isn’t Dave Thompson! What’s up, faggot?’
‘Piss off!’ Dave replied.
‘This your new boyfriend, then?’ asked Johnny. ‘What happened to that queer Davis?’
‘None of your fucking business. Patrick, let’s go.’
The others had drawn close now. ‘You’re disgusting!’ another one of them said and spat. ‘Faggots. Should fuck you up’s what we should. Teach you a lesson.’
Dave fixed him with his coldest stare and crossed his arms. ‘Go on, then. And then see yourselves convicted of a hate crime. I’m pals with the local police sergeant, and my dad’s a star lawyer. Think prison is worth it for teaching a pair of faggots a lesson?’
‘You’re bluffing,’ said Steve, but he sounded less than certain.
‘Yeah? You gonna risk finding out?’
The others all looked at each other, and then Johnny said, ‘Let’s go,’ and they all departed.
Dave turned to Patrick, who was smiling, one eyebrow cocked. ‘What was that?’ he asked, sounding half amused, half impressed.
Dave shrugged. ‘The truth, mostly. I mean, I doubt my dad would lift a finger to help me, but I actually do know a detective down at the police station here in town. His name’s Javelin. He’s a chill bro.’
Patrick took a step closer and kissed him. ‘My hero,’ he murmured. ‘As if I didn’t want you enough already . . . Come on, then. Take me home.’
* * *
They arrived at Dave’s house at a little bit past eleven thirty. It took a bit longer than necessary, because they kept stopping to snog along the way, and when they got there they had to take a moment to compose themselves before going inside.
Dave’s mother was in the living room watching television when they arrived. ‘David, is that you?’ she asked as he shut the door behind them.
‘Yeah, it’s us.’ He glanced at Patrick. ‘We should probably make an appearance. If my dad’s in there, just act casual.’
Dave’s father was not there, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
‘So, you’re Patrick.’ Dave’s mother gave him a scrutinising look.
‘Er, yes. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompson.’ Patrick appeared shy all of a sudden. It was adorable.
Dave’s mum smiled. ‘Don’t be silly, call me Abigail. It’s lovely to meet you, too. You boys want anything to eat or drink?’
‘No thanks. I think . . . think we’ll just head straight to bed. Bit tipsy, if I’m honest . . .’ Dave paused. ‘Where’s Dad?’
‘In his study, working. Best not disturb him. I’ll . . . tell him we have a guest later.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Mum. Good night.’ He kissed her cheek.
They started up the stairs, headed straight for Dave’s room. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep his hands off Patrick, and the moment they closed the door, they were on each other, not even bothering with the lights, moving towards the bed. Dave pulled Patrick’s shirt over his head, to reveal a light dusting of hair on his chest and a reddish trail leading down to the waistband of his trousers. Dave ran his hands up and down Patrick’s torso, thumbs brushing over his nipples, causing the other to moan softly. He kissed Patrick’s lips, his neck, licked a trail over his collarbone, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. Patrick reached out and pulled off Dave’s t-shirt as well, returning the touch.
Dave began to work on Patrick’s fly, and pushed him down onto the bed, pulling his jeans down. He wore grey cotton boxer briefs, and through the fabric Dave could see how hard he was. Dave met Patrick’s eyes, licking his lips. ‘This okay?’
Patrick nodded. ‘Yeah.’
Dave pulled the jeans completely off him and then kissed his stomach, licking along the waistband of his pants, before pulling them down to reveal his cock. He looked up again, giving Patrick the chance to back out, but he gave no hint that he didn’t want it. Dave took Patrick into his mouth, salty and bitter-sweet, and Patrick swore softly, hand cradling the back of Dave’s head.
‘Oh God . . . Fuck, that feels so good, Dave . . .’
Dave went on for a while longer, and then he kissed his way up Patrick’s body, lying down on top of him, jeans still on. ‘Is this . . . Have you ever done any of this before?’
Patrick bit his lip. ‘Some. Not much. I . . . there was a bloke, on holiday once.’
Dave brushed back Patrick’s silky hair, smiling, and kissed him softly. ‘You still call the shots,’ he reminded him. ‘If you’re uncomfortable or you don’t want to, or . . .’
Patrick grabbed the back of Dave’s neck and pulled him down to deliver a searing kiss. ‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘I’m okay. Just take it slow, okay?’
Dave nodded, then sat up, removing his own jeans and pants, so they were both finally naked. Patrick reached out to touch him, and Dave moaned softly at the feel of his fingers, his hand, wrapping around him. He lay down on his side, kissed Patrick, and touched him back. Patrick closed his eyes, groaning a bit louder than he should.
‘Shh.’ Dave kissed him again, swallowing his moans. ‘Tell me what you want.’
Patrick drew a shuddering breath. ‘Fuck, I don’t even know . . .’ He raised himself up on his elbows and looked deep into Dave’s eyes. He licked his lips and looked down at where his hand touched Dave. Then he pushed Dave gently down on his back and bent over him, covering him with his warm mouth, and Dave bit his own knuckles so as not to make too much noise. He felt like he should have put on some music first or something, but then that would probably have disturbed his father, and they might have been interrupted.
He combed his fingers through Patrick’s hair, clenching his hand and urging him on. It earned him a soft groan. When he felt himself getting close, he let go, grabbing Patrick’s arm and pulling him up to kiss his lips, tasting himself and his own pre-cum on them.
‘You’re pretty good at that. Do you . . .’ Dave hesitated. ‘Would you like to go further?’
Patrick drew a shuddering breath. ‘I . . . I dunno. I do, I think, but . . .’
Dave smiled. ‘That’s okay. This is good.’ He took Patrick’s cock in his hand, and Patrick did the same for him, and they kissed while they brought each other off. Patrick came first, spilling over them both. It was enough for Dave to topple over the edge as well, kissing Patrick as hard as he could so he wouldn’t cry out.
The room grew quiet as their laboured breathing slowed. They lay like that for a long while, hands on each other still, just looking into each other’s eyes. Then they kissed again, and Dave put his arms around Patrick and held him tightly.
‘God, that was . . .’ Patrick cleared his throat, and then he laughed. ‘That was amazing. You’re . . . Fuck . . .’
Dave brushed Patrick’s hair out of his eyes again and smiled. Then he pressed his lips to his forehead. ‘You’re so hot,’ he murmured. ‘I . . . I want to be with you.’
‘You’re with me now,’ Patrick pointed out, and Dave laughed softly.
‘Yeah, I just mean . . .’
‘You mean, like boyfriends?’
Dave nodded. ‘Yeah. Like boyfriends.’
Patrick kissed his lips, smiling softly in the semi-darkness. ‘I’d like that.’
Told you you wouldn't have to wait so long for the next one! Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. If you have any questions, comments or critiques, feel free to e-mail them to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. And if you'd like to be notified when I update or post something new, please send me an e-mail with subject line 'Mailing list'.