Liar
"I didn't know we had a girl in the band."
"Shut up." his cheeks flushed a dull plum as he muttered at the other man. "M'not a girl."
"Soz, please, he was just joking!" I protested, squeezing Simon's shoulder. "He didn't mean to be cruel..."
Simon tensed, bristling for a moment, then visibly relaxed. "Robin," he turned to me, tilting his eyes but not his head, "I thought you said you were going to put a stop to that."
"I'm trying." I pointed out, shooting a glare at Perry, we'll have a little chat about this later, "He's just being stubborn."
"Yeah, well, I'm sick of it." he finally turned to me, burying his face in my shoulder. I rested a hand on his hair and sighed.
"Shouldn't paint his face up like a bloody girl, then." I heard Roger murmur under his breath, shooting a glance at Perry. Simon didn't appear to hear that, though, so I just stroked his hair and let him be. "C'mon, let's get started."
Simon slowly let go of my shoulder and went to his bass, sliding the strap over his head almost fluidly, as if it were a part of him. I picked up my accoustic and began to fiddle with the pegs.
"Bloody B's gone off again..." I snarled. It was really starting to annoy me. It seemed like a curse lately; no matter what brand of strings I tried, or how many times I tightened it, the B would always be flat when I went to play. Several tones flat. "Give me a minute."
I fiddled until it was back to normal. "All right. On three. Two. One- "
An ear-splitting screech filled the room and I covered my head in shock, accoustic banging down over my knees as I twisted in pain. "Ahhhh!"
It died down; it had been feedback from the speakers.
"What was that?" Jason winced, unplugging his own ears and blinking at me, then the speakers. "Nobody was playing yet..."
"I know." I went around and checked the backs; they seemed all right. But three numbing screeches later, we decided something was wrong with the wiring.
"This isn't worth it." Perry unplugged his guitar and sat down on a stool. "Can we just go it without the amps?"
Jason shrugged, adjusting his set. "Just open then..."
It wasn't completely a waste of time. However, it was much too quiet to really get a lot of good practising in, and it was hard to concentrate when you were trying to hear the others. I finally put the guitar down.
"This isn't working." Simon nodded, putting his bass away and sitting with a sigh.
"Well, it's the studio's problem, not ours." I pointed out. "We can come back tomorrow."
Roger nodded. "Hey, it's two. Who's up for some lunch?"
And so we all trooped off to a local bistro for various sandwiches.
"If it's not one thing, it's another. I swear! Someone's been changing the settings on the keyboard." Roger sighed. "Every time I go to play the dials've been set to some weird instrument I've never even seen."
"That's odd." I frowned. "Anyone else notice anything?"
"Not really." Jason shook his head.
"Nothing here." Perry took another bite of his sandwich.
"Simon?" he'd gone very quiet and pale. "Are you all right?"
"I..." he swallowed, staring at his plate, then stumbling to his feet. "I think I'm going to be sick." he rushed off.
The tension was so thick you could've cut it.
"All right...what was that all about?" Perry demanded. We all stared at where Simon had been a moment ago.
"I'll go and find out." I stood up, heading the same way. "Simon?"
I knocked on the closed stall's door. "Simon?"
"Go 'way." I heard his voice thick with tears and pain.
"Soz, what's going on?"
"I'm being sick." he said crossly; I could hear the toilet flush, then the stall was unlocked. He was pale, flushed almost green around the cheeks and smelled of vomit.
"I'm sorry..." I trailed him to the sink, where he washed out his mouth.
"It's nothing." he dried off his face.
"Nothing? Soz, your sandwich looked fine, what else did you- "
"I'm fine now, all right? Leave me alone!" he was shouting now, as he pushed out the door.
When I got back to the table, Simon was still sour and stewing.
"Soz, c'mon on, please." I said as I sat down, touching his shoulder. "If you're getting sick, you should tell me."
I'll never forget that look of cold emptiness in his eyes. It frightened me. And then he blinked, gave me a cross look, and repeated, "I'm fine."
That evening when I arrived home, Mary was taking a message down from the phone.
"Hello, love." she nodded at me, then capped the pen and hung up the phone. "Simon called a while ago, and left a message. You'd best go right away, he sounds upset..."
I gave her a quick kiss, then picked up my keys again. "Right. I'll see you later, then..."
His house was so dark, I almost didn't want to go in. As I knocked on the door, I grew more and more nervous. What was wrong with Simon? Why was he so ill, so quiet?
When he answered, my heart nearly stopped. He looked awful. He was a right mess, tears streaked down to his neck, eyes bright red from crying.
"Oh." he sniffed. "It's you. Come in, then."
I closed the door behind myself and took him in my arms. "Soz, what's...why have you been this way? What's wrong? Please!"
He leaned on me rather limply, as if he were boneless. "Robin, I..."
I kissed his cheek and half-walked, half-carried him to the couch. We curled up together and he shook his head, letting his hair settle down again before speaking.
"It's my head." he murmured quietly. "I keep hearing voices."
I blinked. "Voices?"
He looked up at me, eyes watering and overflowing again. "You don't believe me."
"I..."
He tucked his head under my chin. "I am. They're not happy with me, Robin, not happy at all. They keep telling me to do things, and when I don't, I get sick."
"Things?" I was confused for a moment, then I guessed. "Soz...are you the one who keeps messing about with my tuning? And Roger's keyboard?" He didn't say anything. "What did you do to those speakers?"
"Robin, I- " he said quickly. "Yes. They kept telling me to do things, little things, especially to you. But the speakers, I..." he went quiet again. When he spoke, his voice was dark. Haunted. "I don't remember the speakers."
"You mean you didn't do it?" Now my head was starting to hurt.
"I mean I can't remember." he looked up at me again, eyes huge and scared. "If I did do something, I can't remember."
"Soz..." I moved back a little, nervous. "You're scaring me."
"You think...I think I'm going mad, Robin, I think I'm going mad!" he said, urgency rising in his voice.
"Simon!" I shook him a little, and he rattled like a rag doll, head flopping forward limply. "Simon! Please...I- I don't know what's happening to you, but..." something caught in my memory. "You said you get sick when you disobey these voices, right?"
He nodded.
"So, when you got sick in the bistro, that was...?" I paused. "What did they want you to do?"
He looked away, turning a slight shade of crimson. "They wanted me to kiss you."
"Oh, well, that's nothing. You and I kiss all the time, it's nothing to be ashamed of- "
"Not like that, like this." he said, in irritated tones, and grabbed my face. He kissed me deeply, swiftly, tongue in my mouth, and I froze solid.
"Simon, what- " I leaned back, alarmed. "That was the voices, right?" I demanded, touching my mouth. It felt like I'd been burned. "Right?"
He just looked at me. "Yes..."
"Liar." I said, standing up to get out of there.
"No! Robin! Please!" he wa begging, and I ached to see him in such pain. I sat down again, taking him into my arms.
"Soz...I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting that, I guess." I sighed.
He said nothing, just curled up in my arms cried. I stroked his hair, cuddling to his warmth...and licked my lips.
It hadn't been terrible...just unexpected. Friends didn't kiss friends like that.
He tasted a little like salt. Must've been from so much crying, I thought to myself, as I drifted off to sleep.
Simon was still asleep by the time I woke up, which was about seven in the morning.
"Christ." I muttered to myself, glancing at the clock. "Mary must be worried..."
I glanced downward. Simon was curled up in my lap like an animal. His cheeks were puffy and swollen, polished candied-apple red from crying. He looked like a porcelin doll - horribly breakable.
I gently lifted him off me and went to the phone. Mary didn't answer; I left a message and then went back to Simon. With a sigh, I picked him up and carried him to his bed, tucking him into it. I was turning to leave when I felt a pair of arms go around my waist.
"Please...please don't go."
"Soz, I have to go home. Mary will be worried."
"She knows you're here with me, doesn't she?"
"Well, yeah, but..."
"Then stay." he pulled me backwards and I didn't really fight it, just toppled back onto the bed and snuggled up to him.
"Soz. About that kiss..."
"Shh." he put a finger on my lips, silencing me. "Soz's sleeping."
I frowned, pushing his fingers away. "Soz, don't. I want to talk about this."
"I don't." he pulled the covers over his head, vanishing under the bedsheets. "Can't we just let it be?"
"Soz..." I sighed. "Please, come out from under there..."
No response. I crawled under too, taking his hand and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Friends don't kiss friends like we did last night, Soz. That's a lover's kiss."
He looked away. "I'm sorry. I just...didn't want to hurt again."
"Soz..." I touched his chin, tilting his face to mine. "You know I love you. But not...like that."
He nodded. "I was just doing what they told me..."
"Maybe you should see a shrink." I suggested, touching the side of his head.
"No, I - I think they'd be even more upset." he said worriedly.
"Well...if they're going to keep interfering in our lives like this, Soz, I'm going to have to put my foot down about it."
He paled. "All right."
I kissed his cheek again. "Please, don't keep secrets from me, Soz. Especially not big ones like this."
He shifted a little, then nodded. "All right."
I smiled. "Now, let's get out from under here, shall we?"
He giggled softly and we crawled up from underneath. It had been hot under there, and I let out a breath in the cool relief. "Whew."
Simon snuggled up to me again, and I put my arms around him. He looked so fragile like this.
"Robin?"
"Mmm?"
"Why don't you kiss me the way you kiss Mary?"
"Simon Gallup! What a question!"
"Please!"
"Soz, Mary and I...we're lovers. She's my wife! You're my friend. It's different." I felt extremely awkward.
"I want you to kiss me like her." Simon protested, pressing his face close to mine.
"Soz - no. We did that last night."
"I kissed you. I want you to kiss me."
"Why?" I asked, growing cross. My friend wanted me to kiss him like a girl?
"Because you love me."
"Yeah, I do, but it's not the same!" I pointed out.
"Robin, please! Just this one time, I won't ask again!"
I sighed. "D'you promise?"
"I promise."
"Fine then." I took his face in my hands and kissed his warm, open mouth. Just a little tongue, it was odd enough already. Think about Mary. Think about Mary.
When I came up, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright, yet terribly sad.
"Oh, now what's wrong? Am I that terrible a kisser?" I asked playfully, poking his lip.
"No." he whispered, kissing my fingertip. "But now I wish you'd never kissed me at all."
"It was terrible then!"
"No, it was wonderful." he replied dismally, then covered his head with the blankets and went still.
"...Soz?"
No response.
"Soz."
"GO AWAY!" he shrieked shrilly, and I winced, edging backwards.
"Christ, Soz...I'll see you later then." I said stiffly, getting up and heading back to my home.
Mary was still asleep, so I just took a shower and had some toast for a snack. I read the paper, and heard her get up not long afterward.
We kissed, though lightly, and it felt odd to me after kissing Simon so passionately. Something in my gut twinged with guilt.
"Something the matter?" she asked, getting herself some orange juice.
"No." I said calmly. "It's nothing. Sorry I didn't call."
"That's all right." she smiled at me. "I just assumed you were with Simon. After all, not too much mischief you two can get up to, mmm?" she laughed.
I felt another pang of guilt, a hot twisting of sickness in my stomach. "Yeah, not much..."
She snuggled up to me and I put my arms around her. She looked up at me. "Something is wrong."
"Soz and I...just had a bit of an argument. It's nothing important."
She looked puzzled, then shrugged and sighed. "If you insist..."
I hugged her, kissing her again. There. That was better. That was how it should be. But why couldn't I get Simon's sad, pleading eyes out of my head? It was going to drive me mad - was this going to happen every time I kissed Mary? And Simon's voices...it was hurting my head!
"I'm worried about him. Simon." she said out loud, beating me to it. "He's been calling here nearly every day, wanting you to go over to his place. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was one of your obsessive fans..."
"But he sees me at the studio..."
"Maybe he's jealous of the attention you're giving the others." she nodded. "I know how close you two used to be. Why don't you take this weekend and talk things over with him? It might improve his moods..."
I sighed, thinking it over in my head. "It'd probably give us a chance to straighten some things out..."
Mary nodded, stroking my cheek. "It's a good idea."
Finally, I stood up with a shrug. "Well, if it'll get him to relax...I'll talk to him about it at the - oh Christ! I was supposed to be there ten minutes ago!"
Ten minutes late, which was nothing compared to Simon, who staggered in after an hour, drunk and with a black eye to boot. He was utterly silent, though, and played his bass - though not very well - without so much as a single word. It was eerie, and by the time we had to go, everyone was uneasy.
I took him aside after we'd left the studio. "Soz, what's wrong today?"
Nothing.
"The voices keeping you from talking?"
A curt, brief nod.
I sighed, kissing his cheek and wrapping an arm around him as we walked. "Soz, Mary suggested we take a weekend off together, talk things over. All right?"
Another nod, this one accompanied by a tired, small smile.
"Good."
He tilted his head and rested it on my shoulder as we walked. I took him back to my house, whereupon Mary had a royal fit over his eye.
"But how did this happen?" she demanded, growing frustrated when he wouldn't respond.
"He's...got a really sore throat." I explained, feeling another twist of hot guilt for lying.
While Mary bustled about with ice for his face, I put the coffee on. Simon was afraid to talk...these voices were something.
I brought out the pot and Mary was only satisfied when Simon gently pushed her away with a nod that he was all right.
"So about this weekend..?" she inquired, looking at me. "Any plans?"
"I'm staying with him, he'll be more comfortable without a mother hen fussing over him."
She swatted me with a towel. "Don't sass me!" but she smiled. "I'll expect you back Monday then, shall I?"
We nodded.
Thursday and Friday passed without incident, and other than Simon's black eye healing - and he still wouldn't tell us how he'd got it, even though he could talk again - it could've almost been described as a 'boring' week.
He didn't have any more odd requests or duties. At least, none that were obvious to the rest of us. We actually practised a lot better, and our playing sounded smoother.
When Friday finally rolled around, Simon and I went home together, ordering dinner, and relaxing on the large couch in front of his tv. He was smiling and happy, yet still very quiet. After we finished eating, the silence grew larger. I pulled him close, and he seemed to melt into me, cuddling softly.
"Soz..." I began, faltering. I didn't really know where to start. How could I? "How...how long have you been hearing these voices?"
"A few weeks. Maybe a month." he said shyly.
"And you didn't tell me? Why didn't you say anything?"
"You wouldn't believe me." he pointed out.
"Well, I would've spent less money on my guitar strings." I joked, trying to keep it light.
He chuckled. "Yeah...your expression was priceless, though..."
I rolled my eyes. "I suppose. But now I know."
He snuggled a bit closer, pressing his warm body against mine. "Robin, d'you ever wonder...what life'd be like if you'd never met Mary?"
"I'd probably shag a lot more groupies." I laughed, thinking he was joking about.
"No, I mean...if you'd fallen in love..."
"With another girl? Dunno. Maybe." I shrugged.
"With me."
That made me pause. "Um...Soz...I do love -"
"No, I mean romance love. Like with Mary. If you loved me like her...would you kiss me like her? Would you make love to me like -"
"Simon Gallup!" I pushed him up and away, growing more alarmed as he continued. "You stop that! Right now!"
He stared at me, hurt and huge eyes.
"Oh Soz - I wish you wouldn't joke like that." I pretended to laugh, it was strained and forced. "Besides. "Wouldn't that mean I have to...er...stick it...er...up your arse?" I wasn't ignorant. "Wouldn't that hurt? And make a mess?"
He shifted, squirming a little. I couldn't help myself; I glanced down at his groin. He was hard. I couldn't believe it. "Soz, you're..."
"It wouldn't be like that, Robin. I swear!" he was almost begging, arms thrown around my neck. "I know it sounds disgusting, but it's so much more! It's like nothing else, Robin; it's tighter and hotter than anything, and I'm so -"
I felt as if I was about to be ill. "Simon! You're so what?! Christ! That's disgusting! I don't care if you're a fag but for God's sake I'm married! To a woman! Leave me out of your sick fantasies!!"
He began to sob. Uncontrollable, heavy sobs ripped through him; tears poured down his cheeks as he clung to me. I tried to pry him off, but he hung on, almost desperately.
"Soz." I said quietly, but firmly. "Let go."
He didn't. If anything, his grip got even tighter. "Simon Gallup. Let go of me this instant!" I said coldly, shoving him away and standing up.
My heart broke when I saw his face. He looked so stricken, so sad, as if I'd just given him his death sentance. I paused, an immense wave of guilt crashing over me. "Soz.."
He stared up at me as if he didn't know me. It hurt. "Soz, please..." I sat down, touching his cheek. He pressed his hand over mine and sighed shakily, his sobs subsiding slowly.
"I'm sorry." I said quietly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. It just...surprised me, I suppose."
"But you still won't do it."
"Soz." I said quietly. "I'm not gay. I wouldn't be able to do that."
"How d'you know?"
"Because I've never wanted a bloke like that before. Not even you."
He went dead quiet.
"Soz?"
"I've wanted you for so long, Robin. I want you so much it hurts." he said, so honest and lost it was breaking my heart all over again.
I bit my lip. "Soz, I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't."
"You never know unless you try!" he protested, tears welling up in his eyes again. "You could even pretend I'm Mary!"
"No." I said, then shook my head. I softened. "Soz, even if I could, I'd never want to think like that."
He cried openly, then, softly. "I really can't convince you?"
"I'm sorry." I took him in my arms and held him tightly. "I can't."
"It's not fair." he sniffed softly. "Why can't you love us both?"
I pulled back and held up my hand; my ring. "Because I made a promise, Soz."
He seemed to wither, blushing hard and looking away. "Why couldn't you have met me first?" he groused bitterly.
I kissed his temples. "Simon Gallup, I love you. I will always love you. That's not going to change."
He sighed and buried his face in my shirt. "M'sorry."
"It's all right, Soz." I stroked his hair. "I'm sure you'll find someone..."
"I like girls, too, you know." he pointed out, rolling over so his front was to my chest and we were laying down together. "I like girls, and I like boys, but I love you."
"Soz. Please. Just stop." I was feeling guilty enough as it was.
"Just let it go, Robin, just let it all go, and be with me..." he moved closer, hot breath against my lips. I could feel a warm hardness against my thigh. God. He had a hard-on for me. This was beyond weird.
"Soz, no."
He kissed me again, on the lips, moaning softly. Tired of fighting a pointless battle, I relaxed under his touches and let him put his tongue in my mouth. He tasted like sweat and tears. I didn't kiss back, just laid there dully and let him touch me, use me. I figured if he tried, he'd realize it didn't mean anything to me, and he'd stop.
When he pulled back and began to kiss down my throat, however, I grew concerned and begain to sit up, to push him away.
He stopped me, and kept going, undoing the buttons of my shirt to suck at my collarbone. It was all right, I'd give him that, but certainly not enough to arouse me. And so I let him continue on, growing more and more morose, more moody, as the minutes passed. Let him see that his touches do nothing, I thought angrily to myself, Let him be humiliated when he can't even give me an errection.
I watched him casually as he moved down my stomach. I squirmed a bit, ticklish, but he must've taken this as a sign of arousal because he began to undo my belt.
He took hold of me through my boxers; I gave him a wry look. He shrugged at me and began to give me a hand-job. At first I was able to block it out, but then my concern rapidly grew as I realized that my breathing was growing heavy.
Traitorous body!
I sat up, moving to push him away, but as I did, he lowered his head and put his mouth around it.
I gasped and my hands, which were at his shoulders, tangled into his hair as he bobbed and sucked.
Oh. It was like heaven. So hot and wet and teasingly slow, and as my breathing grew heavier I realized I couldn't get enough of this. He was so good, and I beagn to moan as he took me deeper, into the back of his throat.
I felt it coming, to my horror, and I tried to stop it, but it was no good. I came in his mouth with a hoarse yell, my fingers still tangled in his hair.
He pulled off slowly, and looked up at me. He was licking something off his lips. Oh God. He had swallowed it all and was cleaning up my seed.
I bit my lip.
He smiled softly, standing up and helping me to my feet. He kissed my cheek.
"Let's go to bed."
I was nervous all night long, but all he did was curl against me and sleep. I rolled over the events of the evening in my head, over and over again. When had I started to like it? Did this make me a fag? Could I still love Mary? God - could I even say anything to her about this?
I don't recall sleeping very much that night. I was too busy being paranoid. Every movement he made was a ploy to get me aroused again so we could...
So we could what? I wasn't ignorant, but I couldn't possibly see Simon as dominant, especially not with me...Did he want me to sodomize him? To put my cock up his arse and fuck him until we couldn't move any more?
I was caught between a feeling of disgust and odd arousal. He'd said it was tight, and hot. I'd stopped him before he'd gone any further, but now I was sure that he had been going to say those things about himself.
God.
Against my better judgement, I began to think about this. Having a boy would obviously be very different from having a girl. It wouldn't be as wet, for one, there'd have to be some sort of lubricant like petrolium jelly.
Next, wouldn't it be dirty from...ugh. No. I didn't even want to think about that. I decided if he tried to force me, I'd only have to think about where it was going after you ate. Instant turn-off. Good.
I had the nasty feeling I'd need to remember that.
I understood that men could love. I was fine with that. And Simon...well...hands and mouths seemed to work. But even again, why? Why desire a man sexually when it was so awkward and unnatural? A woman could use her hands and mouth as well...this was different.
I looked at Simon again and brushed his hair softly. Yes, I loved him. But why did he insist we had to be...intimate? Intimacy was a secret I wanted to share only with my wife, not my best friend...things were getting far too complicated. I spent the morning hours drifting in and out of sleep until Simon woke up.
"Mmm, good morning, Robin." he smiled at me warmly, pressing one of those warm, intimate kisses to my lips. "How d'you feel?"
"Tired." I admitted, my fingers catching in his sleep-mussed hair. "I didn't sleep much last night."
"Silly." he teased, tickling my chin. "Go back to sleep, then. I'm going to take a shower."
"No, it's all right." something in my mind had clicked when he said shower. "Ah...would you...mind if I..." my cheeks burned; why was I doing this?! "If I joined you?" God! I'd really said that! Me!
Oh, he looked so happy. That's why. "Come on, then."
We were both naked and he turned on the water. It was warm, comforting. I took the oppertunity to examine him; of course I'd seen naked boys before. I'd had sports in school and been in changing-rooms.
But this? This was different. Simon was a man. His body was lean and well-muscled; I'd never taken the time to appreciate his strength before. Now every patch of gleaming skin seemed to captivate me. There was something beautiful in the way the water droplets glistened on his chest hair before running down his belly and...oh.
I'd never bothered to look at another man's cock before. Of course I knew my own, but again, this was different. I tore my eyes away, sweeping upwards, only to find him watching me, smiling at me.
"It's all right, Robin." he chuckled softly, coming closer and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pressing us together in the warm wet spray. I could feel his skin rubbing against mine, and his sex pressing into me. He was aroused already? His body must be very sensative...
"Soz..." I murmured, nervous, licking my lips and resting my arms around his waist.
"Shhh." he kissed me again, pulling me under the showerhead. "It's all right...it's all right."
I stroked his back, feeling the lean muscles relax under the light pressure. And I kissed him back. I put my tongue in his mouth because I wanted to, and I was kissing him. I knew it was Simon, and it didn't seem to matter to me. He loved me. I loved him.
He moved away after a few moments, then gathered up a bottle, and began to wash my hair. It was soft, gentle, and gave me pause. Washing had always been so mundane before. This was new. And I couldn't say I didn't like it.
"Soz, I've been thinking..."
"Mmm?" he tugged me back a bit. "Lean back."
I obeyed, not really thinking about it. This was like being a child again, with mum washing my hair. His hands were so gentle, and yet so strong. It seemed as if all he wanted was to take care of me.
"Nothing." I said honestly, I couldn't remember what I had been about to say. It was so strange.
"Done." he stepped in front of me, smiling. "Squeaky-clean!"
I laughed. "That's awful!"
"I know. I said it just to annoy you."
Annoy...
Come to think of it, he hadn't mentioned those voices for a while, now.
I brushed that thought aside and grabbed a bar of soap, beginning to wash. Simon laughed and turned to clean his own hair.
Once I was done, I grabbed a towel and stepped out. The air was cool compared to the heat of the shower, and I shivered.
"You all right?" Simon called, still busy.
"Yeah." I called back, going to the bedroom and getting dressed. I felt slightly odd, and slightly thrilled. I'd just taken a shower with another man. It hadn't really been sexual in nature, but it was still...sensual. I shivered again.
"Robin?" he came into the room as well, drying off and picking out some clothes. I'd brought a long-sleeved t-shirt and new jeans, they'd fit me well and I shook my head.
"Nothing. Just cooled off."
"Ah. Wanna go for a walk?"
"Sure."
We headed out, just walking, heading towards a coffee shop. I was hungry, I realized, and wanted food. We bought muffins and hot drinks, and then went back to Simon's house. We sat down in the front and ate in the quiet, occasionally looking at one another.
It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but I could tell he wanted to say something. His eyes kept flitting around my body.
"Soz..."
"Yeah?" he was fidgeting a little.
"If you've got something to say, say it."
He sighed. "Ooh. I can't. It'll just sound so cheesy."
"Say it anyway." I couldn't help smiling.
"Anyone ever tell you, you look gorgeous in the sun like that?" he winced, blushing. "There. Said it. Sounds so bloody awful..."
I laughed, pulling him close for a hug and a kiss. "Heard it before, yeah, but you're the first to actually mean it."
He tucked his head under my chin and laughed; I could feel the vibrations through my arm around his body. "That's nice to know."
"Soz." I tilted his head up. "YOu know I do love you...this isn't going to mess up our friendship, is it?"
"No." he smiled, shaking his head. "We're still friends. Best friends, right?"
"Best." I grinned at him, hugging him fiercely. Not awkward or strange. He understood.
"C'mon, let's go inside." I put my empty cup in the garbage, and the muffin wrapper too. He tossed his in the can, then curled up on the couch and turned the tv on.
"Anything you wanted to see?"
"Nothing I can think of." I said, sitting down and offering a shrug. "Why?"
"No reason. Most of the stuff on here is shit anyway." he pointed out, stretching and laying down horizontally to watch some random program sideways with his head in my lap.
"Good point." I snickered, threading my fingers gently into his hair. It was soft and silky, almost surprisingly so.
"Whatever happened to good tv?" he sighed, turning to look up at me.
"It didn't pay the bill." I grinned a little.
He laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't pay it, since I'm not going to enjoy it."
"Hmmm, maybe." I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. I could feel Simon's soft hair in my hands, so long and smooth. At least, the hair on his head. On his body, I could remember from the shower, it was rough and short and curly and thick -
I swallowed. Don't think about that.
"Robin? You all right?" his voice seemed far away.
Don't think
"Yeah, Soz, m'fine."
Don't
I was surprised at how fast the afternoon went by. Watching the numbingly bad programs was hypnotizing. In fact, it was only when a news show came on that we realized it was six pm.
"Holy - Robin, we've been here for hours!" Simon exclaimed, sitting up and turning off the tv with a slight blush.
"Yikes." I stood up and stretched, feeling the burn and hearing a bunch of little snapping noises in my back. "Ugh...remind me not to do that..."
Simon giggled. "I will. You hungry?"
"Yeah, sure..." I said, not really listening. He vanished into the kitchen and I followed after him, yawning a bit and stretching again. He was putting things into a pot.
"Soz?"
"Pasta."
I laughed a bit and sat down at the table. "Somewhat amazed you can do that."
"Well, after Carol, I figured I should learn to cook more extravagant meals." he pointed out, putting a lid on the pot and sitting crossways over my lap.
"You're too bony; it's hurting my thighs!" I protested, trying to push him off. He giggled again.
"You're jealous of my figure."
"Am not. You look like a scarecrow."
"How rude!"
"Don't get me started."
He laughed again and kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm just having some fun, Robin, don't take everything I say so seriously."
"Hmmf." I crossed my arms, pretending to be upset.
"Oh, Robin. Always so cruel." he batted his eyelashes at me and leaned back, hand on his forehead. "Woe is me, the damsel-in-distress at the mercy of such a horrible brute."
With a roar of indignation and mock-fury, I stood up, sending him tumbling ungracefully to the floor. He let out a shriek of surprise but it was too late.
I laughed and move away, grabbing a beer from above the refrigerator. "Told you you're too bony."
"Why you evil ass!" he yowled, staggering to his feet and rubbing his wounded bottom. "I hate you!" he scowled, then turned to his pot and began to stir.
"Bony bastard." I took a swig and bopped him over the head.
"Yeowch!"
"Bony."
"Nasty!"
"Bitchy!"
"Wanker!"
I bit him. I don't know why I did it. He screeched and jumped about a foot into the air. "ROBERT!"
"Yeah, Soz?"
"Ahh..." he rubbed at the side of his neck where I'd bitten him and glared at me, blushing hard. "Fight fairly!"
"You liked that, you kinky bastard." I opened another beer, grinning at him.
"You're the one that bit me!"
"You were asking for it."
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
"Was not!"
I bit him again, harder, sucked a little. I think it was the faint buzz of alcohol that was making me a little more daring.
He let out this soft little cry that turned into a moan of desire; the sound went straight to my cock. I pulled away in surprise; he groaned in protest and pulled me close for a hungry kiss. I shoved him up against the kitchen counter, hitting the stove's power switch and kissed him back.
My lips buzzed. It didn't seem as odd that it was pretty little Simon that was wriggling and writhing under me, and he tasted so good.
I kissed him deeper, grinding down onto him; he had slid his thigh between my legs and I was hard already. When he came up for air I looked at him, nervous: "Soz, I don't know what to -"
He kissed me again and put his hands down into my pants, undoing them and shoving them down to my knees. He turned us, pressing me into the counter, and took my aching arousal into his mouth.
I felt like I was dying. He didn't stop for a moment, not even to breathe; he didn't let me come though. Instead, he shoved off his own pants and wrapped his legs around my waist; I pushed upwards and we fell back, he was pinned between me and the wall. "Fuck me."
Oh bloody Christ.
"Soz, I don't -"
"Fuck me Robin, fuck me! Please!" he begged, eyes huge as he ground against me desperately.
"Oh God." My hand found some of the oil he'd put in the pasta; I drenched my hand and slid my fingers into him.
Don't think just do.
I slid two into his body; thank God there was nothing else there. At first he just sort-of wriggled; I could feel him trying to relax. Then I hit something softer, and he stiffened and gave a great yelp, eyes shut tight. I paushed, then grinned a little and prodded that spot again, harder.
He practically shrieked, thrashing around my waist.
"Fuck me, Robin! Fuck me right now!"
I laughed a bit, taking my fingers out and splashing more oil on my cock before finding his entrance and pushing in.
I gasped as he slid down. He'd been right - it was so tight. Not as wet as a girl, but just as hot. I moaned into his neck and he cried out. "Move!"
I couldn't resist. I began to move, pumping in and out, fucking him into the wall. I didn't really think about what I was doing at the time, but it felt so good that I just kept going, pounding harder and faster.
Simon screamed as he came, I could feel it splatter over my belly. And I came inside him, so hard that my knees gave way and we slid down the wall, breathing hard and eyes shut tight.
When I could finally breathe normally again, I opened my eyes and looked at Simon. He was still quivering softly, trembling, arms around my neck.
"Soz..." I said quietly, turning so I was sitting down with him in my lap. "Are you all right?"
He opened his eyes, cuddling close to me. "Oooh God. That was better than anything I've ever done before."
I laughed. "Nice to know."
Unfortunately, my actions seemed to burn off the alcohol buzz. I started to think about what I'd just done.
Your cock is still up his arse.
I pulled out quickly, and he winced. "Robin? Something wrong?"
"Ah - no, Soz, nothing's wrong..."
You pathetic liar. You just sodomized your best friend. And you loved it.
"Oh Christ..." I whispered, leaning back and away from Simon. "Oh Jesus fucking Christ."
He stared at me, shocked and hurt. "Robin? Robin please..." he cupped my cheek and I fought to keep from flinching.
"I'm sorry, Soz. I just got freaked for a moment there." I shook my head. I was calming down, but I still felt a little ill. The physicalities of sex with a man...at least it wasn't as disgusting as I'd thought. "I just can't believe I had sex with my best friend. With my best male friend."
He blinked, then smiled and cuddled against me. I could feel the stickiness on my stomach, but it wasn't too bad. No worse than my own. "It gets better as you go on. Trust me."
"I do." I said, wrapping my arms around him tightly. We were still wearing our shirts. "But, um...can we get up and have dinner now?"
He laughed, staggering to his feet and helping me up. I washed my stomach and hips with water from the sink as he served dinner.
After we finished, I let him take off our shirts and we hung them over the back of the couch. We lay together, naked, chest-to-chest with him on top of me under a blanket. It was intimate without sexuality. I lay still and just let myself enjoy the softness of Simon's warm body gently resting on mine.
"I love you, Soz."
"I know, Robin." he sighed happily, watching a comedy program on tv.
"No, I mean, I love you."
He didn't say anything to that, but I could feel him smile against my neck, and felt his warm tears roll over my chest, drip onto the couch, and run down through the cracks in the floor until they were lost forever in the darkness.
He never mentioned the voices again.
But then, I suppose they were just another one of his lies.
End - "Liar" - 7 July 2006
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