SomeWhere On... (BXB)

...Canon Street (A Vignette)

"Ah! N - slower!" He's panting hard, but I can tell he likes it. Meanwhile, he's scratching hard at my back and my hips hurt, but he said he likes someone else being in control.

I grit my teeth. Stop thinking.

"Ya like that?" I hiss, pushing into him.

Stop fucking thinking.

This guy violently shudders and bites his bottom lip. "Nnnnmmmm -yes." He's so goddamn tight. "Ahhh! Right there!" I roll my hips, and he shudders again. His toes are curling up against my bum. "Fuck, man."

I pick up the pace, because I'm getting close. Don't give a shit about him, I just want to finish. I don't wanna think. I just wanna finish this off. But this guy's squealing like he's riding a roller coaster, so I don't think he'll have an issue with finishing.

He puts his hands on my stomach, like he needs to feel what I'm doing to him. They're fucking cold. His body's tensing and relaxing over and over. "Keep going," he moans.

I wish I could go faster, but I can't. My body doesn't move that quick, and my hips're getting fucking tired. So I keep the rhythm I'm going at and begin jerking him off. He seems to really like that because he begs for me to stop but doesn't seem to actually want me to.

Finally I cum, and he moans like the devil's taken him.

He shoots and his body finally relaxes, his breath shaking.

I pull out and go for the bathroom. I wipe myself off best I can and throw him a towel. "I'm taking a shower first. You can have it next, yeah?" I hear something, but I don't care to make it out. I turn on the fan and close the door.

Its still raining outside. It's been raining for, probably, three days. Maybe more? Who cares?

The water's freezing, but I still get in and just stand in the basin until it heats up. When it finally does, I just lean my head against the wall and groan.

Fuck.

I didn't have to do that. I just did.

What's worse, I'm still thinking about it.

And I'm frustrated. Except I'm not sure what I'm frustrated at anymore.

I get out and he's gone. If I had forgotten we just had sex, Iwould've thought no one was here. Only the indent he made on the bed's still there. The room smells like exhaust and I'm just glad that it's still raining because it makes the place feel cooler.

My room's cool. I mean, there's a bed, a side table, and a desk. There's no pictures anywhere. I don't bother with decorative stuff because I don't really need it. And everything I own's either packed away in the closet or piled on my desk.

And hey. At least I can see the floor. Not like Steve's room.

It's not even midnight yet. So I throw on some pants and wander into the kitchen for something to settle my stomach.

Steve's at the table sifting through some papers for work. "Hi," he says, not looking at me. "Oh, your 'guest' says that you're welcome to call him. Aaaaaaaaaaaand..." He rifles through his papers for a thin business card. "...here's his number."

I take it, crumple it in my hand, and bin it.

"Sentimental as always."

"Shove it, Steve."

"I take it you had a smashing time?"

"No."

He looks up. "Judging by how he moaned – "

"I fuckin' said shove it, Steve."

Steve kinda glares at me. "Wow. You're not usually this touchy."

"And you're usually passed out at the table, so we're both doin' things a little different tonight, mate," I snap back, taking out a beer from the fridge. I slam the door closed with my foot and sit down across from him.

He stares. He goes back to sifting through his papers.

I groan. "'m sorry, Steve. I'm just..." I twist off the cap and scoff. "Don't even know how t' fuckin' say it." I take a sip and put down the bottle.

Steve puts down the papers he's reading. "If you put condensation rings on any of my papers, I will fuckin' scalp you."

I pick up the bottle and place it on the corner of the table, the one spot that isn't covered.

"Thank you."

I take another sip. "Why're you still up?"

He sighs. He grits his teeth. "You remember that slag, Emily?"

I can't forget someone who tried so hard to get with me. "Yep."

"Guess where she is right now?"

"Ridin' someone?"

He scoffs. "Probably. So I'm doin' her work and mine." Steve looks at me. "If I do this right, I'll get a pay bump. And her fired."

"Good on you," I say, nodding the bottle's neck in his direction. Anything to not talk about me right now.

"How's your work going?"

Fuck. I shrug and take a swig. "Work's slow, but as soon as something with Manchester United starts, I'll get the longer shifts."

"How fun."

I don't say anything and take another swig. It doesn't taste right for some reason.

"Y'know, if you don't like it, find another job."

Fuck. "It pays decently."

"You don't like it," he says. And at this point, it's the billionth time he's told me.

"Thanks, Mum."

Steve puts up his hands. "Sorry, sorry. But mate, you are smarter than this."

I scoff.

"And you know it."

I scoff again. "Yeah, put that on a CV. 'Mate thinks I'm smart.' I'll get hired in no time."

"Tommy," he groans.

"I know, I know."

"Don't pull that bullshit with me."

"Fine, then stop giving me this bullshit." Because I'm not interested in doing this conversation again.

He looks at me full on and puts down his papers. "Tommy. You're out of it. What?"

I could bullshit my way through this. Lie and pretend I'm just having an off night. Or that I'm getting sleep deprived. I fiddle with my thumbs under the table.

Steve sighs and looks back at his papers. "If you don't wanna talk about it – "

"I don't know."

Helooks back at me.

"I..." I shake my head and sigh. Licking my lips, I add, "If I knew what the fuck was botherin' me, I'd tell you." I shrug. "I, just, can't seem to get what Mum's said outta my head."

"Your mum's a cunt reincarnate," he says without skipping a beat.

I snicker and take another sip. It tastes fine now.

"So it isn't the exorcism you just had?"

I shake my head. "Nah. 't's somethin' else." I lick my lips and lean back. "It's so...fuckin', annoying."

Steve smirks at me. "Eeeey, there 'e is." He puts his foot on my knee. "Figure your shit out so we can bitch about it together, okay?"

"Get your fuckin' foot off me."

He snorts. "Needed to comfort-touch you somehow, and you're too far away." Steve looks at me, trying not to smile. "What? Too gay for you?"

I laugh. And I just sit there with him, talking about how shit work is and finishing my beer until he passes out at the table first or I do. I don't remember.