One More Year

Disclaimer: In case it is not clearly stated in the narrative, everyone in this chapter engaging sexual activity is at least 18 years of age.

Note: This is written in British/South African English, although almost all similar media I consume is American, so that will have its influence too. For the sake of keeping the note short, I’ll post a comment to explain my use of language and obscure terms, if anyone asks or I think of something in particular.

***

I untwisted my hand from the knot of seatbelt I’d entangled it in, panting and exhilarated. Eric lifted his head from my lap and settled next to me on the back seat. He put a hand on my face to turn it towards him, and kissed me. I could taste the faint trace of my cum in his mouth.

“There.” He grinned, and pushing away from me, climbed into the front seat.

“You don’t want to-”

“I’m not going to jizz in my shorts, thanks.” He turned back to me, his tone reassuring. “And I’d hate to mess up your car. It’s fine. You’ll get me later. Plus, we’re going to be late. We should get going.”

I grinned, and climbed into the driver’s seat, feeling a little guilty. We’d hooked up a few times by now — pretty much for the rest of that weekend after our date, and the whole of the weekend after that. He’d also stopped by at my place a few times in the middle of the weeks between. I still hadn’t quite been ready to blow him, but he didn’t seem to mind doing it without reciprocation, and we still both got to enjoy ourselves a lot anyway.

We’d just come from the restaurant where Louis had booked out a room for his eighteenth. He’d only wanted a small event, apparently, just people he liked and knew well. Which, after two more weeks of hanging out with him around the edges of AP maths, seemed to include me and Ellie.

It also included Sara, who was now officially dating John. Ellie had still been obsessed with their group dynamic, so she’d found out and explained to me — at length — that, apart from Melissa, John seemed to be Louis’ best friend, so Louis inviting Sara made sense. As for us, she thought Louis had just been bowled over by our ‘charming and brilliant personalities.’ Hers, mostly, of course.

It didn’t seem as if Frank and Jared — from the balcony at Caitlyn’s party — had made the cut, so that confirmed Ellie’s suspicion that they weren’t part of the ‘core’ group. Jess had looked pretty upset the whole evening, so I didn’t quite want to ask her about it. I wondered if Ellie had.

“Is Jess okay, by the way?”

“What? Oh, right,” he said, buckling himself in. “Frank broke up with her, so yeah… she’s not having a great time.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah. I mean…” He shrugged. “Awful guy anyway. I didn’t really like him.”

I started the car, and put some music on from my phone.

“Ugh. What is this garbage?” Eric groaned.

“It’s a band called the Noisettes, and they’re amazing. If you don’t like them, walking is always an option.”

“Fine, I’ll listen to your dumb music.” He grinned, and reached across to rub the back of my neck. “Come on, let’s go. We’re probably already late.”

Sara had offered up her house as a venue to go back to after we were done at the restaurant. The idea had Ellie’s fingerprints all over it — part of her convoluted plan to worm our way into the group, no doubt. It felt unnecessary, since things were going so well between John and Sara, but the plotting kept Ellie busy, so I didn’t even ask. The two of us had both seemed to crack an invite from Louis anyway, without — openly, in my case — dating anyone in the group.

Most of them had set off for Sara’s house on foot — Louis and Melissa, Sara and John, Vince and Jessica. I’d needed to drive my car there, and when Eric mentioned something about needing to find an ATM and joining me for the car ride, Ellie had decided at the last minute not to accompany us, and rushed off to join the others. I hadn’t realised that Eric was making up an excuse, and had something pretty different in mind. Not that I’d been willing — or able — to argue with him.

It didn’t take us long to get to the house, which I’d been to before for a group project. Sara’s parents were major hippies — and very successful artists — and they lived a very bohemian existence in a bungalow on the beachfront, just near enough the edge of Blue Mountain Beach’s borders to be respectable. They were currently away at an arts festival, a fact which had probably triggered Ellie’s plan for the evening.

The rest of the group must have been walking really slowly. By the time I’d pulled into the driveway, they’d only just arrived, and I had to wait for them to scuttle out of the way before I could park. Ellie lingered back with me as everyone filed through the small gate that led towards the beach area, looping her arm through mine and giving me a mischievous grin. “Have fun?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We went to an ATM.” I blushed slightly, but couldn’t help but smile.

“Sure.” She patted my arm, and then slipped away once we reached the sandy enclosure at the back of Sara’s house.

John’s hulking form was crouched over a firepit, sleeves pushed back off of his muscular forearms, and he was arranging some coals and firelighters in the center. He’d been the only one who seemed to have ignored Louis’s suggestion that we wear beach friendly clothing.

Everyone else had given him good-natured ribbing when he’d rocked up in a button-down shirt and nice jeans — for ‘trying to impress his new girlfriend’. He’d only put up a token protest, explaining that he’d only skimmed the invitation. After that, he’d played along, and defiantly claimed that Sara was ‘a girl worth impressing’, at which point the teasing became about what a sappy romantic he was.

He looked up from the firepit as I rounded the corner. “Hey, Jay, can you bring me one of those bags of logs?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” I grabbed the bag from a pile that sat up against the house, and brought it over. I tore it open, and started helping John place them around the arrangement of coals he’d set up. Sara brought us things we needed as she flitted around, her blonde waterfall of beauty-queen hair flicking about as she played hostess to everyone. John lit the firelighters with a match, and then we delicately piled a few more logs over the whole arrangement and stepped back to wait.

“You’ve set it up all wrong,” Vincent said, wandering over with a cocky grin on his face. He’d worn a shirt with a hula girl’s torso on it — which had drawn a groan from Louis and a laugh from everyone else when he’d walked into the restaurant earlier. “It’s going to fizzle.”

“Oh, fuck off.” John laughed cheerfully, and then turned to me. “Ignore him. He’s just bitter because he’s been banned from anything to do with fires.”

“Why?”

“He nearly killed us.”

“Oh come on, that was like one time.”

“It was like five times, you moron.” Melissa wandered over to join us at the fire. Tonight she was wearing a short green beach dress that made her red hair seem more vibrant than usual. “And the last time you burnt off my goddamn eyebrows! I had to spend half a year drawing them on.”

“But you looked hot.” Vince grinned.

“I looked like my Great-Aunt Maud.” Melissa tossed her hair in mock outrage. “If you think that’s hot, I’ll give her your number.”

“Great. I’ve been looking for a sugar-mommy.”

“Yeah, Maud’s broke,” Melissa said. “But she used to be an acrobat, and she can remove her teeth, so…”

“Louis! Melissa’s doing it again.” John shouted.

“Mel.” Louis wrapped his arms around her. He looked great tonight. He’d ditched the glasses — presumably for contact lenses — and gelled his hair up into a fashionable mess. Following his own advice, he was wearing a t-shirt and boardshorts, but really nice ones, although the shirt had an optical illusion pattern that I found hard to look at directly. Everyone had been feeding him alcohol all night, so he was a lot more relaxed than usual. “You know John hates it when you sexualise the elderly.”

“She’s a woman with needs, Lou.” Melissa chuckled. “Besides, Vince started it.”

“Yeah, my bad. Great-Aunt Maud and I are in love.”

“Mmm.” Louis looked Vince’s wiry form up and down, smirking. “Maud can do better.”

“Ouch.” Vince clutched at his heart and grimaced.

“I brought you a drink.” Eric popped up next to me, and handed me a beer.

“Thanks.”

Everyone gravitated around the firepit to watch the weak flames of the firelighters peek out from the gaps in the pile of logs.

“This isn’t going to take.” Vince said in a sceptical tone. “We have to-” Just at that moment, a large tongue of flame leapt out from the charcoal pile and began to char the edges of some of the logs.

“Yes, Vince?” John said, grinning very broadly. He held out his fist in my direction, and I bumped it tentatively with my own, grinning back at him.

“Not important.” Vince said, grinning and holding up his hands. “I’m going to go pour some shots.”

Sara led him inside, and they came out with a tray of shot-glasses, which Vince took to a table and began delicately filling with Jagermeister. Sara rejoined the group, and we stood around the pit watching the logs catch alight.

Louis cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you guys something. It’s not exactly news, but since it’s my birthday, I thought it might be nice to just say it out loud, and-”

“Speech, speech!” shouted John. Sara slapped him in the stomach.

“I just wanted to sort of officially say something because I haven’t really got the chance before. Too many interruptions.” Louis gave John a reproachful look. “Since it’s my birthday — shut up, John — I just thought it might be nice, as a sort of milestone thing, to say… Well, I’m gay.”

“Oh god, I’m going to die alone.” Melissa exclaimed loudly.

“Melissa and John have known for a while. Which is why they’re being such asses about it.”

Both of them laughed, and Ellie wandered over to Louis and hugged him. I felt like I was going to fall over. I hadn’t seen it coming, and it took my brain a few seconds to register that it was actually what he’d said. Louis was gay. Even Eric — after all we’d done — was sticking to his ‘no labels’ thing.

It was a weird feeling — I was no longer alone, but I felt a mild panic at the idea that I’d probably have to come out to Louis, in turn. When Louis glanced in my direction, I gave him what I hoped was a convincingly warm smile. I worried, for a moment, that if my expression came across as weird, he might even think I was being homophobic.

“We were just going to be asses anyway,” John said, causing Sara to roll her eyes at him. His voice caused me to snap back into the moment, and remember that this wasn’t about me.

“A fair point,” Louis said, smiling.

“Okay, we all have to do shots now.” Vince brought over the tray of shots. I blinked, not quite believing how casual they were all being about it. Movies had kind of led me to believe that it should have been a more dramatic moment.

“We do not have to do shots.” Louis crossed his arms as Vince waved the tray under his nose.

“Yes, you do,” Vince said solemnly. “Drink the shot, Lou. Otherwise, we’re going to call you homophobic.”

“That makes zero sense.” Louis grabbed one of the glasses anyway.

“What if I AM homophobic? Does that mean I don’t have to drink the gross dark stuff?” Melissa asked casually.

“Mel, if I want to make you drink, I’ll just remind you of one of your traumatic childhood events.” Vince held the tray out to her.

“I had a perfect childhood. There was no trauma.”

“Oh no? Remember that time you tried to kiss Lou in the middle of the school play, but your hand got stuck in the scenery, and you ended up elbowing him in the nose and everyone saw. And how that’s now even more embarrassing because he’s gay.”

“Well, fuck. Shot, please.” She grabbed a glass from the tray.

“That IS embarrassing,” Ellie said to Melissa. “No wonder you’re homophobic.”

Melissa guffawed loudly. Everyone else gathered around and grabbed glasses, and we dutifully clinked them together and drank. When I put the glass down, a few of them were looking at me strangely.

“What?” I asked.

“You didn’t even flinch.” Melissa said, slightly slack-jawed. “You realise Jager is gross, right? Are you going through some dark stuff right now?”

“No, I…” I frowned. “It doesn’t taste that bad, does it?”

“Leave him alone.” Ellie giggled. “His whole family’s like that. Some odd genetic mutation — that’s my theory.”

“Spooky,” Vince said. “Do another one!”

“Sorry, one beer, one shot. I’m driving.” I shouldn’t have even had anything at all, but I was still a little nervous around Eric’s friends, and I’d been so quiet over dinner. Their reaction made me think accepting the shot probably hadn’t done me any favours, but at least I hadn’t been called homophobic — even jokingly.

“Anyway…” Eric said. “Now that Lou’s eighteen, this means that Jess is the only one who’s still seventeen. Pretty illegal Jess, having that shot.”

“Whatever. Rat me out, and I’ll take the rest of you guys down with me.” It sounded like she was trying to be carefree and casual, but her voice cracked slightly, and she kept her eyes locked on the fire. Eric put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick rub.

“Guys, does no one care that I’m dying alone?” Melissa asked the group.

“You’ll have your cats.” Louis grinned, and hugged her when she pouted.

Ellie came to stand by me, and Vince started wrestling with John, even though John was about twice his size. When they nearly knocked her drink out of her hand, Sara came to join us. “I’m going to pretend that’s cute, and that it doesn’t make me feel like I’m dating a ten-year-old.”

“Boys never grow up.” Ellie said, patting Sara’s arm. “Except Jay, of course.”

“Thanks.”

“Jay’s always been a grumpy old man on the inside.”

“I’ll take back those ‘thanks’ now.” I sighed, and Ellie grinned.

“Oh my god, Jay! I almost forgot, I have to show you something.” Sara pulled out her phone, and began scrolling through a series of photos. “Hang on a sec. Ah, here.”

She held the phone out to me, and I studied the photo on the screen. It was my older brother, probably in a nightclub, and he had his arm around a girl that looked a lot like Sara.

“That’s your brother, right?”

“Yeah, that’s Brian.”

“Cool. That’s my sister Alli.” Sara grinned. “Do you know if there’s anything going on there? She won’t tell me if there is or not.”

I didn’t know what to make of the brief, sharp look Ellie gave Sara, but I was too relaxed to worry about it much. “Um… Brian kind of isn’t dating now. And he hasn’t told me anything.”

“Oh, well. Good to know, anyway.” Sara glanced briefly at Ellie, who was gazing out at the sea.

“Who’s Brian?” Eric had wandered over to us.

“My brother.”

“The five-year-old?”

“No, the one in University.”

“Ah, right.” Eric nodded.

“He’s really cute.” Sara said.

“Gross.” I frowned.

“He is, though,” Sara insisted. “Right, Ellie?”

I thought I could see a brief flash of annoyance in Ellie’s eyes. “Not as cute as Jay.”

“I’m not sure whether I want to say thanks yet. Could you elaborate?” I asked.

“Sure. You’re like a basket of puppies, woven with flowers.”

“I’m still not sure if that’s a compliment.”

Eric laughed. “Anyway, we were thinking about going out into the water. Anyone here coming?”

“Sure,” Ellie said.

“No, thanks,” Sara said brightly, and made her way over to John.

Eric looked at me.

“Um, yeah, okay. Why not?”

I dumped my phone into a pile on the drinks table with everyone else’s, and pulled off my socks and shoes. Sara opened the gate for us, and everyone who was going started to file out. Jess had taken up a position against the fence.

“Not coming, Jess?” Eric paused as he was going through the gate.

“No, I don’t want to get wet.” She wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself. “I’ll just watch you guys, make sure no one drowns.”

“Okay.” Eric shrugged.

John had stayed behind too, but the rest made our way into the water, sloshing our way through the foaming breakers towards the darkening horizon.

“Something just touched me.” Melissa screamed, jumping back. I studied the water nervously, but it was hard to make anything out beneath the glassy black surface in the dim light.

“It’s probably just seaweed.” Eric said dismissively.

Melissa cautiously swirled her legs through the water in front of her, then jumped back screaming again. As she landed, she lost her balance and fell over backwards into the water. Louis sloshed his way over to her, and Vincent reached into the water where she’d been standing.

“Don’t!” Melissa cried.

“Relax, it IS seaweed.” Vince picked up a big lump of kelp, and lobbed it away from us. “See, nothing to worry about.”

“At least you still have your dignity, Mel.” Louis chuckled and reached out a hand to her, but his laughter was cut off when she grabbed him and pulled him into the water. Vincent doubled over to laugh, and didn’t notice as she rose ominously out of the water and sloshed towards him.

“Hey, Vince,” she said sweetly.

“Oh god. No, no, no, no,” He began to run away from her, but she was too fast. She managed to leap onto his back, wrapping her arms around him.

“Get off!” He laughed, and then tipped them both over into the water.

I was laughing hard, and didn’t have time to fight back when Eric wrapped his arms around me and dove us both into the water.

“What the FUCK?” I asked as I sputtered to the surface.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said timidly, crawling up to me in the water. “Sorry. I thought it’d be funny.”

“It was pretty funny from over here,” Vince yelled cheerfully from his spot in the water.

“Sorry.” Eric grinned sheepishly.

“Jay, if you want me to pack his underwear with sand, I’ll totally do it,” Melissa said.

“I’ll consider it,” I said darkly, brushing the hair out of my eyes. A grin leapt unbidden to my face anyway.

“Hey Ellie,” Vince called out. “You’re looking awfully dry over there.”

“I will end you,” Ellie said haughtily. “Alright, fine — I will get in. But I have demands. I want to do it slowly, and no one’s allowed to wet my hair.”

“I’ll personally drown the first boy who tries it,” Melissa said. “You have gorgeous hair.”

“Thank you!” Ellie said, beaming. She gently lowered herself in, and took a few cautious strokes.

Ellie had barely been bobbing near us for a few minutes when Vince launched a spray of water at Eric’s head. Ellie shrieked, and backed away.

Melissa positioned herself between them and Ellie, as Eric launched a counter-attack, but she quickly got involved and the three of them were splashing each other while Ellie watched from a distance, and Louis and I tried not to get caught in the crossfire.

After a while we all just went back to quietly bobbing in the tide. Eric subtly floated over to me, and held my hand underneath the water.

“Okay, I’m getting out.” Melissa announced, standing up and dripping. “I’ve got sand in places I never even knew I had.”

“Gross.” Louis said.

“Don’t make me drown you.” Melissa squeezed some water out of her hair.

“I better get out too.” Ellie rose from the water gracefully. “My protection is leaving.”

“Can’t trust these delinquents. Come on.” Melissa laughed, and the two began to trudge towards the shore.

“I’m going to head back too.” Vince said. “I have questions about what those sandy places are.”

“Creepy, dude,” Eric said. “I’m not quite done here. Going to hang around a bit.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said quickly.

“Ew, they’re peeing!” Vince laughed.

“I’m going to head out too.” Louis quickly glanced at me, but then turned around to face the shore. “I need to stop Melissa from killing Vince if he actually asks about the sandy places.”

The two of them followed in the wake of the girls, and soon Eric and I were alone in the water again.

“I need to tell you something.” Eric said quietly.

“Yes?”

“Louis knows about you.”

“Okay…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you because you didn’t know he was gay yet, and I sort of felt like I’d have to explain to you that him being gay was part of why I told him, and… yeah.” He grimaced. “Are you mad?”

I had to think about that for a second. It almost felt like I should be freaking out. Louis more or less went to my school now, in a way. We’d been told that Simone girl would basically be doing everything else with us this year, once normal schooling wrapped up. Him knowing should have felt like a disaster. He’d even interacted with Angela and Sue, and he’d be doing a project with us. But he was shy, and kind, and — as I now knew — also gay. I didn’t think I could see myself being worried about him outing me.

“I’m not mad.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, good.” He let out a sigh of relief. “So… um, his coming out thing? That was more or less for your benefit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, maybe kind of for Ellie and Sara too. The rest of us pretty much already knew, one way or another. Everyone kind of knows about me too. But yeah, he was annoyed at me when I told him about you, and I guess he sort of wanted to… balance it out, or something.”

“Ah, okay. That’s really nice of him.”

“Yeah… Look, I’m really sorry I told him. I was just excited.”

I smiled at him, not sure if he could see it in the fading light. “It’s fine. I’m not mad. I promise.”

“Cool.” He swirled through the water again and kissed me.

“We should probably go back.” I pressed myself against him, and firmly wrapped my arms around him, digging my feet into the sand below us. “But I want to do something first.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, his tone eager. “What?”

“This.” I launched myself forward, throwing us both into the water. I managed to stop myself from fully submerging, so I calmly stood up as he floundered his way to the surface, wiping his hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, that seems fair.” He grinned and brushed his wet mop of hair to the side. I tentatively held out my arm to help him up — ready to shake him off at a moment’s notice if he was feeling vengeful — but he grabbed it and levered himself out of the water without trying anything, and we made our way back to shore.

Someone had lined most of the camp chairs with their backs facing the fire, and the arrangement was being used as a makeshift clothesline for the stuff we’d wet while swimming. Eric and I took off our shirts, wrung them out, and hung them up to dry. A stack of towels had also helpfully materialised while we were gone, so we each grabbed one and dried ourselves off.

Melissa and Ellie sat on the only two remaining camp chairs, wrapped in towels and chatting quietly. John was laying down with Sara on a big towel, staring up at the stars. She’d curled up at his side, and the two softly murmured to each other. Louis and Vince sat in the sand near the bonfire, building a structurally-unsound sandcastle.

“Where’s Jess?” Eric asked.

“She went home.” John looked over at us. “Said she was tired.”

“I don’t think she’s doing great right now.” Louis grimaced sympathetically.

Eric extracted his phone from the pile on the table, and began to fiddle with it. I flattened a square of sand near the warmth of the fire with my foot, and laid my towel down on it. Eric stood near the table, tapping away the screen of his phone for a while, frowning. Then shrugged, and tossed it back on the pile.

“Is she okay?” Vince asked.

“Yeah, she’s fine, I think.” He turned to Louis. “Sorry, I think she’s just been feeling a bit rough lately.”

“It’s fine.” Louis was calmly reinforcing one of the walls of the sandcastle. “At least she showed up. It’s all good.”

Eric nodded, and looked down at me. I smiled as I watched his shoulders lose their tension. He grabbed his towel and lay it down next to mine, slightly overlapping. The motion ended up spraying me with sand.

“Sorry.” He lowered himself down onto his side and reached over to dust off my chest.

“First you throw me in the water, now this,” I said quietly, trying to act casual about him touching me so freely in front of his friends. Fortunately, in the flickering light of the bonfire, the motion was probably not so obvious, and no one could see how much I was blushing.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, and I doubted there was any way for anyone to mistake what he meant by that. I glanced up at Melissa and Ellie quickly, and then across at Louis and Vince. No one seemed to have noticed what Eric had said, or they hadn’t really cared. I forced myself to relax.

My older sister, Candace, periodically went through phases of life where she absolutely knew the answer to everything. During one of these episodes, we were out one night when I was about sixteen — on the balcony of some god-awful nightclub she’d illegally smuggled me into — when she had given me some sage advice:

‘You need to stop doing things or not doing things because you think people are thinking about you. Most of the time, no one is. They’re all just thinking about themselves. Like you’re doing right now.’

Honestly, the fact that she’d been about six glasses of wine deep at that point, and that she’d have trouble remembering saying it the next day only made it seem more wise and mystical to me, and it had always stuck around in my head.

So, lying there, I convinced myself to finally calm down and just enjoy the moment, with my resolve to do so strengthened by the unexpected — and, as always, unsolicited — advice of a wine-confident party girl.

When Eric casually stretched out his arm and wedged it under my neck, I let him. I calmly snuggled in, feeling the heat of his skin against mine, and the fresh, clean smell of his breath at the side of my face.

I don’t know how long I lay there, with Eric’s arm around me, as the bonfire slowly died down and everyone’s yawns grew more frequent. No one said anything — I didn’t actually know who knew about us at this point. Louis and Ellie obviously did. With Sara and John it was a moot point — they were too preoccupied with each other, anyway.

Melissa could know, but Louis didn’t seem like a gossip, and Vince probably didn’t, but I kept thinking about how he hadn’t really missed a beat — and had brought out shots — when Louis came out. It occurred to me with vague wonder that I was around a group of people that I could probably just be myself around.

Eventually the fire burned itself down to a few low embers, and everyone began to mill about, pulling our clothes off the chairs and putting them back on. My shirt wasn’t completely dry, but it was warm, and very nice to get back into. Everyone started quietly and diligently reversing the setup for the evening — folding away chairs, throwing away empty bottles, dusting off towels.

Eventually, Melissa called an Uber for herself, Louis and Vince. It became apparent that John wouldn’t be going with them when he and Louis said their goodbyes.

“Thanks for coming, everyone. I had the best birthday.” Louis grinned. “And thanks for letting us come here afterwards, Sara — it was great having our own little beach area.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for inviting me.” Sara hugged Louis, and he grinned at the rest of us, before getting into the Uber.

“We should head out too.” I said.

“Shotgun!” Ellie shouted, and made a dash for the passenger door.

I shrugged at Eric, and grinned. “I haven’t even unlocked it yet.”

“Bye Sara! Bye John!” Ellie shouted from the other side of the car, where I could hear her fruitlessly rattling away at that door’s handle.

“By Ellie!” Sara chuckled, and John waved. Sara stepped forward and hugged me. “Bye Jay. Bye Eric.”

John grabbed my hand and shook it. “Good work with the fire. Nice to have someone reliable around.”

“Thanks.” I laughed, and I unlocked the car, grinning at Eric as we got in on the drivers side. Ellie smiled innocently back at Eric from the passenger seat, and he laughed as he buckled himself in. It didn’t take us long to get home, and soon I had stopped in front of Ellie’s house.

“Night boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She gave me a mischievous grin as she hopped out of the passenger side door. “Metaphorically speaking. Biologically, of course, you have-”

“Night, Ellie.” I reached across and pulled the door shut.

Eric laughed, and reached forward to rub my shoulders while I parked. We didn’t say anything as we made our way towards my room. I kept expecting him to kiss me as we walked in, but he just grabbed the satchel he’d left in my car, and calmly followed me down the pathway. I made sure the house looked empty, and no one was by the windows. Then we slipped into my room, and I spent a few minutes locking all the doors and blocking out places where light could escape.

“I feel like I’m in a zombie movie.” Eric said, watching me. “And you’re barricading us in.”

“Well, whatever fantasy gets your motor running, I suppose.” I made my way over to the bed.

“Smartass.” He wrapped his arms around me.

“The smartest ass.”

“The hottest ass.” He smiled, as the blood rushed to my face. “Nice to see I can still make you blush.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.” I leaned forward, into him, pressing my mouth against his. I felt his laugh reverberate through my face, and his tongue entered my mouth and began to flit back and forth with mine.

“Get naked.”

“Yes, sir!” He grinned, and was out of his clothes in record time, and standing proudly just in front of my bed.

Pulling my damp shirt off, I dropped it on the floor behind me, and then let my shorts and underwear fall around my ankles, where I kicked them off. I immediately grabbed hold of him, one hand on his shoulder, and the other on his dick, which was already hard. Kissing my way down his chest, I lingered over the muscles that were so familiar to me now, but no less exciting. I moved left and right, running my tongue across his nipples as I passed them. He groaned.

A month earlier, I couldn’t even have imagined maintaining prolonged eye-contact with a guy I found attractive, in case someone read into it. Even when the two of us had been hooking up over the past two weeks, I’d been ridiculously awkward about it every time — only ever looking at him obliquely, touching him only once he’d touched me first, following his lead all the way.

But those almost felt like the concerns of a different person, and they’d become seemingly impossible to care about. I’d just lay there, in front of a group of people, shirtless and cuddled into a hot guy that I’d been fooling around with. The world hadn’t ended. We’d been warm, happy, and calm. It was as if everything I’d been afraid of had been completely imaginary.

I was feeling like I’d been scammed by my brain over the years, forced into being terrified of everything. Now that I wasn’t, I felt like I should be making up for lost time. Sure, I wasn’t ready to shout it from the rooftops — that just wasn’t practical right now. But when it was just the two of us, alone, I resolved to figure out what I wanted, and go for it.

I carried on kissing and licking my way down his abs, following his treasure trail down to his groin. With my hand still on his dick, I began to pump, and he moaned. At the edge of my vision, I could see a drop of precum quiver at the tip. I ran my thumb through it, and he bucked his hips slightly at the motion. I moved my head closer and inhaled. He smelled like the sea.

“You don’t need to feel like you have to,” he said, his voice slightly breathless. “Just because I like to do it.”

“No, I want to.” I said, without turning my head back towards his face — I didn’t want to be distracted. I hadn’t ever really looked at his dick directly, especially not close. Now, I was getting a chance to study it, and see all the features — the length, the curve, the veins on the surface — that I had been unable to really look at before.

I perched there, fascinated and excited, until I worked up the confidence to move my head closer and lick the tip. He shuddered when I did, and I took it as encouragement to plunge his whole shaft into my mouth.

The primary taste was one of salt — he tasted like the ocean. That part was a bit disappointing. I wanted to taste Eric. But the rest was just… amazing. The feel of his skin against my tongue, the meaty, throbbing mass of him in my mouth. I felt myself get rock hard.

I began to bob my head up and down the way he had, the way I’d seen lots of men do in porn — and some women, I guess, but not for a while. It also seemed like a good idea to shield my teeth — because somewhere along the way it had gotten lodged in my mind that ‘no teeth’ was a cardinal rule of blowjobs.

Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing. But it didn’t seem to matter. Whether his standards were just not particularly exacting, or I had just tapped into a natural talent, Eric was clearly responding to my efforts. His body would periodically tense, accompanied by moans and gasps of pleasure.

I was definitely beginning to see the appeal in giving, rather than receiving. Knowing that I was the one doing that to him — that feeling was driving me wild. The salty taste of the ocean had also faded away and been replaced by the distinct flavour of his precum, and underneath the smell of the saltwater, the faint musk that was distinctly his began to emerge.

I got a bit lost in the sensations of it all — the smell, the taste, the way he felt in my mouth. My hands ran up and down the muscles of his legs. I was just fully focused on the experience, and if I’d had any doubts about how well I was doing, they were eventually banished when his panting increased in speed, and his whole body tensed.

He grabbed the edge of the bed, white knuckled. “Jay. I’m going to-”

He didn’t finish — not that I’d really needed the warning. His body had been clear enough about what was on the way, and I’d had no intentions of pulling away. I felt the warm rush of him as spurts of his cum filled my mouth with a tangy, salty taste that wasn’t exactly great, but it was his, and I wanted it.

It didn’t occur to me to immediately swallow. I was a bit too intrigued by the taste — I’d probably tasted my own, but if I had, I didn’t really remember, and I had nothing to compare it to. I almost didn’t notice as he pulled me up for a kiss. When he shoved his tongue in my mouth, I think we made equal noises of surprise. A trickle of his own cum dribbled down his chin, but after a second, he took it in stride, and continued the kiss.

“Damn, you’re kinky.”

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I said breathlessly. “I didn’t know you were going to kiss me. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, kissing me again. “It was kinda hot.”

He sat down on the bed, and pulled me on top of him as we made out.

“I’m still hard.” He grasped our dicks together, and began to stroke up and down.

I didn’t last long, with him doing that, and with how much I’d enjoyed giving him the blowjob. I grunted heavily, and sprayed arcs of cum across his chest, abs and dick. “Fuck!”

He ran his hand down his body, smearing the sticky white liquid from his chest to his belly button, and then used it to begin pumping his dick again. His breathing quickened, and his muscles tensed, and for the second time in a very short span, he came again.

I grabbed a towel from my bedside table — I’d gotten into the habit of keeping one there, since that first weekend — and handed it to him to let him wipe himself down.

“Thanks,” he said, still mostly breathless. “Jesus.”

“No, it’s Jason. But everyone calls me Jay.”

He laughed weakly, and then bundled up the towel and threw it at me. I dodged out of the way, and lay down next to him.

He glanced over at the clock. “Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way.”

I followed his gaze. Sure enough, it was about a minute past midnight. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Will you be my Valentine?”

“Sure.” I leaned over and kissed him.

“I was kind of expecting sarcasm.”

“Well, tough. You have to be my Valentine now.”

He propped himself up on his elbows. “I actually got you something.”

“Oh, good.” I sighed in relief.

He laughed. “Were you going to be mad if I didn’t get you anything?”

“No, it’s not that…” I looked over at my desk. “I got you something too, but I didn’t know if two weeks had been long enough. So I sort of… planned to just figure out later today if I should give it to you or not.”

“Were you planning on spending the day with me?”

“Kind of.”

He smiled broadly. “Me too, but I haven’t planned anything romantic.”

“Oh good. Me neither, and my gift isn’t that great.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He sat upright. “Mine’s amazing, though.”

He got up and wandered over to the couch, where he’d dumped his satchel. He rummaged in it for a moment and pulled out a rectangular object wrapped in red paper.

“Here.” He walked over to hand it to me.

“I hope it’s not too amazing.” My grin probably didn’t help me sell that sentiment. After all my hand-wringing about giving him mine, it still hadn’t occurred to me to expect that he’d get something for me, and the fact that he had — that felt kind of great. But I was now a little worried, at least, that what I’d gotten him might not measure up.

From the weight and feel the package, it was fairly clear that it was a book. That could go either way — I’d been a bookworm for most of my life, so books were always a pretty good starting point as a gift. But because it was such a big part of my personality, I had specific tastes, and too many people thought any book would do. He did seem fairly confident, however. I began to pick at the wrapping paper.

“Oh no. You’re one of those.”

“One of what?” I said, looking up as I tried to peel away the tape at one of the seams.

“A delicate un-wrapper.” He rolled his eyes. “Are you going to keep the paper to reuse later?”

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you tearing it?”

“I don’t know. I just prefer not to.”

“Just tear it.”

“Fine.” I was having trouble with the tape anyway. I stuck my finger under the seam and pulled, and worked my way along the tear, ripping off the paper when I’d loosened it enough to have something to grip. It was definitely a book.

“See, doesn’t that feel better?”

“Not really. I feel weirdly guilty.” I shrugged, and he laughed while he gathered the paper and crunched it into a ball, which he tossed into the bin by my desk.

It was a hard cover, the spine was navy blue with an embossed golden pattern of peacock quills, and the side that was facing upwards had a bevelled box with a quote. I flipped over the book to the front cover, confirming my suspicions. The quote had mentioned Longbourn, and that had been a dead giveaway.

‘Pride and Prejudice. The Complete Novel, with Nineteen Letters from the Characters’ Correspondence, Written and Folded by Hand. By Jane Austen, Curated By Barbara Heller.’

“Wow.”

I ran my hands over the surface of the cover, and then tipped it, letting it fall open to one of the folders. I delicately extracted the letter, and carefully unfolded it. The paper was thick, with an amazing texture, and felt like it had really been handwritten long ago.

Eric had been right. It was amazing. I looked up, and saw he’d just been watching me admire it. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s such a great gift.”

“I saw it online and thought of you.”

“Thanks.” I said, and felt my heart drop a bit when I thought of what I’d gotten him. “I sort of don’t even want to give you yours now.”

“Well that would just be rude.”

“Okay, fine.” Setting the book down, I went over to my desk, and extracted the box from the bottom drawer. “Just try to be nice. It’s kind of… It’s not as thoughtful as yours.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t expecting anything.” He gently took the box from me.

I also hadn’t really wrapped it — it had just come in a fairly neat white cardboard box — so there wasn’t much in the way between him and the gift. It was a glass ball, with a flat edge at the bottom and a delicate glass rose set in the centre.

It had definitely seemed less cliche than a box of chocolates or anything covered in a million red hearts. Just a simple rose, well crafted and beautiful, set in glass. I thought it would be a good choice. But after what he’d given me, it just kind of seemed thoughtless and generic.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned it around in his hands as he spoke.

“Sorry.” I sighed. “I think it’s supposed to be a paper weight. I just thought it looked nice.”

“It’s great. If I ever get thrown back in time to the 1950s, I’ll have something to hold all my papers down.” He bit his lip.

“I told you to be nice.”

“You told me to try.” He grinned mischievously. “Sorry, it’s a good gift. I just got lucky and found something you’d really like.”

“It’s pretty damn great.” I reached out to where the book lay on my bedside table, running my hand over the embossed print on the cover.

“So I win Valentine’s Day, right?”

“If you’re a competitive child who needs to ‘win’ it, sure.” I shrugged, and smiled.

“I am.”

“I did give you a blowjob, though. First time I’ve done that for anyone.”

“Yeah, well, that ended before midnight, so it doesn’t count.”

“Ass.”

He pulled me into another kiss, dragging me down onto the bed. It seemed like he was getting sluggish again, and I was feeling a little tired too. We climbed under the covers, and alternated between making out and just cuddling.

“What are you doing today?” he asked.

“Probably trying to figure out somewhere nice to take you for a romantic lunch, so I’m not losing so badly.”

“Good boy,” he murmured, dropping his head on the pillow.

I settled my head on his chest, and then reached over to the side table, where I’d set the book down. I let out a deep, happy sigh, and I once again let Jane Austen start telling me about universally acknowledged truths. Starting with the debatable one, about what single men — in possession of good fortune, of course — might want.