LMPYITP: The Random Passages

My, My, at It Again

Author's Note:

I'm considering using this as the next chapter in Version 1 and am previewing it here just because I'm not sure how much I really like it as it's pretty far-fetched. I was going to leave out the first part because I thought it really wasn't relevant to the main plot I wanted to include in this preview but decided to include it anyway. I hope you enjoy another Jet reference. The song's lyrics at the top fit the theme a little more than I originally thought once I listened to it again. Not to mention Cam looks dead gorgeous in this video (and of course Nic does too). Oh, and I better give it a trigger warning as well. Thanks again for reading!

We had the weekend to chill back in Hampstead before returning Pretty Green and NME. There was some City documentary on TV and Liam insisted we watch it. We lay there on the couch with him pressing against my back.

I felt what I thought was a very certain something, but brushed it off thinking I was just imagining it.

Liam sighed and repositioned himself on his right side. He squirmed for a little while, moving his hands around as well.

I grabbed the remote and changed the channel.

He kept fidgeting and grunted a little, but not about me switching the program.

"Alright that's it!" I said as I rolled over sat up to face him. "You make us put on this frickin' soccer thing and you're not even watching it. What are you doing?"

"Nothin'." He replied shaking his head.

"Then why did you take your boxers off?"

"'Cuz you got them little shorts on, I can't leave 'em on! They're too bloody tight!"

"Oh you are such a weirdo!" I said.

"No I'm not!" He exclaimed. "It's you're fuckin' fault, anyway! Gettin' me goin' and shit!"

I nodded. "Oh yeah. It's totally my fault. So what was it then?"

"You what?"

"What was it that switched you off from football? It had to be good."

He looked away thinking.

"Liam." I said.

"It weren't nothin'!" He yelled.

"I don't believe you."

"You wh-"

"I don't believe you." I said again. "So you better start telling the truth."

"I am tellin' the truth!" He argued.

"Liar."

"I'm not, JESUS CHRIST!" He cried as he pushed his head into the side of the arm of the couch while I pressed on that spot behind his balls.

"Tell me what it was or I keep going!" I warned.

He didn't respond so I did what I said making him cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Your arse!" He finally said through hitched breathing.

"My ass?" I said curiously as I let off. "What about it?"

He shook his head. "I dunno. Just your arse, I guess."

I pressed again in reply.