Chapter 10: Chapter 10
The rain had started again, a fine mist that beaded on Jimmy’s coat and blurred the yellow glow of the streetlamps encircling the car park. By the time they got back to the van, Gaz could tell that Jimmy was struggling. His walk had become listless, the conversation had dropped. It wasn't an easy silence, more the silence of someone trying to not be a burden.
Gaz supported Jimmy, keeping his arm around Jimmy's waist until they were back at the van. Jimmy went to the passenger door, but Gaz turned him towards the sliding side door. “In,” Gaz ordered, bundling them both inside. He turned on the fairy lights and a small heater, laying Jimmy on the bed.
Jimmy managed a weak joke. “It’s always about getting me flat on my back, isn’t it?”
Gaz gave a chuckle. “Yes it is, when you are well enough. Right now, it's about giving you some rest. You're struggling, right?”
Jimmy nodded in response.
“So, we're going to cuddle up on this bed and you're going to rest. We have two hours left on the parking and I've set a timer.”
Jimmy just nodded, unable to show Gaz how grateful he was, so he just let Gaz take control. Gaz settled back, half propped on a thick cushion, and pulled Jimmy into the crook of his arm.
“My bag,” Jimmy murmured, eyes already closed. “For something. Before I rest.”
Gaz grabbed the rucksack, the one that usually held Jimmy’s library uniform and a book. Jimmy fumbled with the zip and pulled out a paper bag with the comic book shop logo on it. “For you.”
Gaz peeled back the paper. The copy of Watchmen. He stared at it, the glossy cover reflecting the tiny LED lights. He actually got a bit teared up, thanking him and kissing him gently, but Jimmy was already slipping away, his head on Gaz's chest. Gaz held Jimmy for a long moment, making sure he was settled. He could tell by his breathing that Jimmy was already fast asleep.
Deciding to give it a try, he picked up the graphic novel. The van was quiet save for the patter of rain and Jimmy’s deepening breaths. The heater hummed, filling the space with a dry warmth. Gaz opened the book.
When his phone timer went off two hours later, making Jimmy stir, Gaz was shocked to realise he’d lost himself in the novel the whole time. Jimmy quickly looked better, colour returned to his face, the tightness around his eyes gone. But Gaz gave him time to come around, watching as he blinked up at the twinkling lights.
“You tried it?” Jimmy’s voice was sleep-rough.
Gaz looked down at the book in his hands. “I may have lost the last two hours in it.”
Jimmy grinned, a proper, wide grin that lit up his whole face. “I won.”
“We’ll see,” Gaz purred into Jimmy's ear, his stubble scratching the delicate skin there, feeling Jimmy shiver against him. “So, what’s next?” Gaz continued. “Should I get you home? Do you need some time to properly recover without me being a terrible drain on your resources?”
Jimmy buried his head into Gaz's armpit, shaking his head.
“You don't have to be back home?” Gaz asked.
Jimmy shook his head again, turning it so he could be heard. “I told my parents it was a weekend away with some lads at the club who I'd made friends with. They were so happy to hear that I had friends and a life, as long as I'm back on Sunday, they're good.”
“Ok, good,” says Gaz, “but what do you want?”
“You,” Jimmy said honestly, his face still pressed into Gaz’s side. “Just you.”
Gaz squeezed Jimmy to him. “Right back atcha, kit man,” he said in a low growl.
“Can I ask something?” Jimmy said.
“Anything at all.”
“So is this just us then?” Jimmy asked.
“What do you mean? D’you think I've got another hot boyfriend waiting in the wings to make this a throuple?” Gaz laughed, the vibration rumbling through Jimmy.
“No,” Jimmy said, pulling back to look at him. “I mean is this a thing. A monogamous thing.”
Gaz’s smile softened. He looked at Jimmy’s earnest face, the hope and fear warring in his eyes. “I’d like it to be,” Gaz said, his vulnerability making his voice shake a little. “If you’re ok with that?”
“I do want that. For now at least. I mean I know that it might not be that way forever, things happen and things change, but yeah,” Jimmy said.
“Good,” said Gaz, his voice firming again, a decision made. “And what do you want to do with your monogamous boyfriend?”
Jimmy thought for a moment, unfamiliar with being so direct, but he knew it was the right way. The shelter of the van, the warmth of Gaz’s body, the two lost hours of peace—it had built a bridge inside him. “I want,” said Jimmy, his voice dropping to a whisper, “for you to kiss me and finger me like the slut I want to be for you.”
Gaz barked a laugh, a sharp, delighted sound in the quiet van. “Your wish is my command.” He pressed a hard, claiming kiss to Jimmy’s mouth. “There’s a public toilet attached to the car park where we can get cleaned up first. Then we can head to someplace where we won't be disturbed.”
The toilet block was a squat, brick building dimly lit by a single security light. It smelled of cheap disinfectant and old piss, but the water from the tap was hot. In the harsh fluorescent glare, Jimmy looked paler, more exposed, but his eyes were steady. Gaz rummaged in his washbag, pulling out his douche. “Right then,” Gaz said, his voice low but practical, filling the bulb. “Warm water. Get yourself sorted. I’ll stand watch.”
Jimmy took the bulb, his fingers brushing Gaz’s. He nodded, swallowing hard, and slipped into a stall. Gaz leaned against the sink bank, arms crossed, listening to the rustle of clothing. The water hissed, then stopped. Gaz heard the soft, internal gush, then a minute later, the toilet flush.
The stall door cracked open. Jimmy’s hand emerged, the empty bulb offered wordlessly. Gaz refilled it from the tap, careful with the temperature, and passed it back. This happened twice more. When Jimmy finally emerged, his face was flushed with a different kind of heat. “Christ,” he whispered, drying his hands on his jeans. “That’s… definitely something to get used to. Being intimately involved in someone else’s bowel movements.”
Gaz laughed, a short, warm sound in the clinical space. “It’s the truth of the situation,” he said, taking the douche from him. “Something that should be mentioned more in stuff like porn, along with lube. Makes it real.” He squeezed Jimmy’s shoulder. “My turn.”
Gaz disappeared into the same stall. Jimmy took up the watch position, his heart hammering against his ribs. He heard the water, the quiet sounds of Gaz tending to himself. Gaz asked for a refresh, saying that should do it. Then, the distinct scuff of a shoe on the concrete floor outside the toilet block. Panic spiked through Jimmy. “Gaz,” he hissed towards the stall door. “Someone’s coming.”
“Almost done,” Gaz grunted from inside.
The door swung open. A man in hi-vis work trousers walked in, giving Jimmy a once-over. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of appraisal or amusement, before heading to the urinals. Jimmy wondered if it was a come-on, his skin crawling with vulnerability. The stall door clicked open just as the man unzipped.
Gaz stepped out, completely unselfconscious. He went straight to the sink, washing his hands and then the douche with methodical care under the running tap. The new guy stared, his stream faltering. Gaz looked up, catching the man’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He didn’t smile.
The man muttered into the silence, “You two have fun,” and turned his back to finish.
Gaz dried everything, stowed the douche away, and walked over to Jimmy. He kissed him, firm and deliberate, right there in front of the stranger. Then he pulled Jimmy tight to his side, his arm a heavy, possessive band across Jimmy’s shoulders, and walked them out without another word.
The cool night air felt like a liberation. “Fuck,” Jimmy giggled, giddy with adrenaline as they crossed the car park. “Probably a bit soon for our first threesome.” He leaned into Gaz’s solid warmth. “I loved how you did that, though. Took possession like that. It was hot.”
Gaz squeezed him, his hand rough on Jimmy’s arm. “You’re mine now,” he murmured into Jimmy’s hair, kissing his forehead. The words vibrated through Jimmy, settling deep in his gut.
In the driver’s cab, Gaz pulled out his phone, thumbing an app. “Found a spot,” he said, starting the engine. “Ten minutes.”
The layby was a pitch-dark bite out of a quiet country lane, hedgerows looming on either side. Gaz killed the engine and the world shrunk to the van’s warm interior. They clambered into the back, where Gaz turned on the fairy lights and the heater. Their soft glow painted everything in gold and shadow.
“Come here,” Gaz said, his voice gentler now, sitting back on the bed, being too tall to stand upright in the back of the van.
He stood Jimmy before him, who didn't have that problem, and began to undress him with a slow, ritual care. Each button of Jimmy’s shirt was a deliberate act, followed by a kiss on the newly exposed skin – the hollow of his throat, the soft swell of his belly. Jimmy shivered, his hands trembling at his sides. When Gaz knelt to remove Jimmy’s shoes, socks, and finally his trousers and pants, his lips brushed Jimmy’s hip, the inside of his thigh.
Jimmy stood naked, bathed in warm light and warmer attention. He reached for Gaz’s shirt, eager to reciprocate, but Gaz caught his hands. “No,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You take it easy. This is all about you right now.” He stood and made quick work of his own clothes, his powerful body unfolding from the fabric.
Jimmy stared, still stunned by the sheer physicality of him: the broad shoulders, the dense furrow of hair on his chest, the heavy thickness of his cock, already half-hard. Gaz guided Jimmy backwards onto the raised bed, arranging himself propped against a thick cushion. He pulled Jimmy sideways onto his lap, cradling him close with one formidable arm.
They kissed. It started gentle, a soft rediscovery. Then Gaz’s tongue sought Jimmy’s, and the kiss deepened, turned hungry. Jimmy moaned into Gaz’s mouth, his own hand drifting down to wrap around Gaz’s cock, feeling it swell to full, rigid life against his palm. Gaz’s hand found Jimmy’s, his touch confident, stroking him with a firm, knowing rhythm.
Gaz broke the kiss, breathing harsh. He reached over to a small drawer built into the van’s side, retrieving the bottle of lubricant. He popped the cap, pumped a slick, clear pool onto his fingers.
His other hand stayed on Jimmy’s hip, keeping him stable, as his lubed fingers found their way lower. They circled Jimmy’s hole, a slick, teasing pressure that made Jimmy gasp and arch his back. Gaz kissed him again, swallowing his sounds, as his finger continued its slow, maddening circles. The only sound was the sticky-slick noise of lubrication, a filthy, intimate soundtrack.
Jimmy began to push back, his body speaking an urgent, wordless language. He rocked against Gaz’s teasing finger, whispering to Gaz, "More". Gaz pulled his hand away. He spat deliberately onto his own fingertips, a coarse, primal gesture, and returned with two fingers pressed together.
He pushed in slowly. Jimmy cried out, a sharp, grateful sound. His body yielded, the initial tightness giving way to a smooth, welcoming glide. Gaz worked his fingers in and out, just to the second knuckle, his own breath hot against Jimmy’s neck. He wanted nothing more than to fuck him open, to find that spot inside him and make him scream. He pushed the thought down, focusing on the slow stretch, the way Jimmy’s body clenched and relaxed around him.
Jimmy was open, pliant, his hips rolling to meet every shallow thrust. Now, Gaz thought. Now you can find it. He crooked his fingers, probing inward, searching through the hot, silken channel.
He pressed upward, a firm, seeking stroke.
Jimmy’s whole body jerked as if electrified. A shattered, choked shout tore from his throat. His cock, which had softened slightly from the intense sensation, jumped and throbbed against Gaz’s thigh, leaking copiously. “There,” Gaz breathed, a savage thrill in his voice. He rubbed the spot again, a deliberate, corkscrew motion.
Jimmy sobbed. His head fell back, exposing his throat. “Oh god, fuck, what is that?” he babbled, his hands scrabbling against Gaz’s biceps. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, don’t stop.”
Gaz didn’t stop. He established a relentless rhythm, milking Jimmy’s prostate with each inward thrust. Jimmy’s cries lost all coherence, dissolving into a continuous stream of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘Gaz’. His cock was rigid, an angry red, drooling pre-come onto his stomach and Gaz’s hand.
“Gonna come,” Jimmy warned, his voice high and tight. “Gaz, I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” Gaz growled, his own control fraying. He continued to press and stroke Jimmy's internal pressure points. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”
The orgasm ripped through Jimmy with violent, unexpected force. His back arched impossibly, his scream muffled against Gaz’s chest. White stripes of come shot over Gaz’s hand and his own stomach, spattering in hot pulses. Gaz fucked him through it, his fingers still working that devastating spot until Jimmy was whimpering, oversensitive and pliant as a rag doll.
Gaz slowly withdrew his fingers. Jimmy collapsed against him, boneless and breathing in ragged gulps. Gaz brought his wet, glistening fingers to his own mouth and sucked them clean, his eyes locked on Jimmy’s dazed face.
“Taste of you,” Gaz said, his voice thick. He kissed Jimmy, sharing the faint, musky taste. “Fucking perfect.” He shifted underneath Jimmy, his own unsated cock a rigid, urgent pressure against Jimmy’s hip. The night, held at bay by the fairy lights, waited.
Jimmy sagged against Gaz, a soft, loose weight. Every muscle felt unspooled. Gaz held him, feeling the frantic pulse in Jimmy’s neck slowly begin to sync with his own. Time stretched, marked only by their breath and the faint click of the heater. A profound quiet filled the van.
After a few long moments, Jimmy started to recover. He made a soft, confused noise into the damp skin of Gaz’s chest.
“Are you ok, babe?” Gaz asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t overdone it.
Jimmy just grinned inanely, clearing his throat. He nuzzled deeper, his lips brushing the coarse hair. “So that’s why you like getting fucked so much,” Jimmy mumbled, the pleasure still coursing through him in gentle aftershocks.
Gaz gave a low, rumbling chuckle. “Would you believe me if I told you it was even better with a dick?” His own cock, trapped and weeping against his thigh, gave an insistent twitch.
“I’d believe anything you said right now,” Jimmy replied, breathless and pliant. He felt boneless, malleable.
Gaz pulled Jimmy closer to him, tucking his head under his chin, keeping him warm, held and loved. The possessive arm around him felt like the only solid thing in the universe.
“Gaz…” Jimmy began, elongating the word as if tasting it.
“Yes…” Gaz replied, copying the gentle, drawn-out intonation.
“I think… I think I need you.” The words hung in the warm air.
“I’m right here. Anything you need,” Gaz said, nuzzling his hair, not entirely sure what Jimmy meant.
Jimmy pushed back slightly, a firmness entering his tired body. “No, Gaz. Look at me.” Gaz did. The fairy lights reflected in Jimmy’s wide, dark pupils. They locked eyes. “I need you. Now.”
Understanding clicked. Gaz realised he meant he needed to be fucked. The heat that had been simmering in his gut roared into an urgent flame. But he held it. “Are you sure it’s not going to be too much? You’ve had a long day and we’ve done a lot already.”
Jimmy’s smile was soft, genuine. “You’re being sweet. And if I didn’t have big feelings for you already… Christ.” He took a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to palm Gaz’s rigid cock. He squeezed, his touch clumsy with want. “But, yeah, I’m ready. I can feel it.” He pressed Gaz’s hand against his own stomach, then lower, to the soft curve of his arse. “There’s an ache. And it’s cock-shaped.”
Gaz chuckled, the sound strained. “Well it sounds like I have a cock for that job.”
He moved with a sudden, fluid decisiveness. Gaz shifted Jimmy off his lap and onto the bed beside him. He pushed himself flat, lying on his back, the bulk of him taking up most of the double mattress. His erection stood thick and blunt against his abdomen. “Sit on my face, kit man,” Gaz told him, his voice a gravelly command.
Jimmy didn’t hesitate. He followed the instructions, moving on shaky limbs, straddling Gaz’s chest. Gaz’s big hands grabbed his arse cheeks, pulling them apart as Jimmy lowered himself. The flushed, puffy rim of Jimmy’s hole, still glistening with lube, was inches from Gaz’s mouth.
Gaz almost attacked it with his tongue. He didn’t just lick; he speared. He drove his tongue-tip into the loosened centre, not caring about the slick, faintly chemical taste of the lubricant. He devoured Jimmy’s hole. He licked broad stripes, then focused into a stiff, relentless point, fucking in with his tongue in a quick, shallow rhythm.
Jimmy cried out, a high, broken sound. His hands flew forward to brace himself on Gaz’s thick thighs. His body trembled. “Oh fuck, Gaz, your mouth, fuck…” Gaz reached around, his fingers finding Jimmy’s already re-hardened cock. It bounced, slick with his own previous spend, against Gaz’s chest. Gaz’s own cock was harder than he’d ever known it, a throbbing, desperate weight. Gaz realised in that moment, his mouth full of Jimmy, that he’d never really waited for his turn before. He’d always ensured he got his in previous, frantic trysts. But with Jimmy, that didn’t matter. The giving was the getting. Although now he was thinking about it, all he could think about was sliding into that virgin hole.
He ate Jimmy out for a long, indulgent time. He used every technique he knew and invented more. He fluttered his tongue, pressed it flat, speared deep, sucking on the sensitive ring of muscle until Jimmy was a sobbing, writhing being of pure sensation, his cock leaking a steady stream of clear fluid.
When Gaz felt he was ready, his hole loose and wet and pulsing against his mouth, he slapped Jimmy’s arse. A sharp, stinging crack. “Up,” he grunted. He pushed him up slightly. Jimmy clambered off on shaky legs, his knees threatening to buckle.
Gaz slid from the bed. He positioned Jimmy at the very edge of it. “On your knees. Heels to your arse. Let me see all of you.” Jimmy obeyed, sinking to his knees on the mattress, his back to Gaz, leaning forward until his forehead touched the bedding. He drew his knees up, his heels nearly touching his buttocks, presenting himself, open and exposed. The sight was obscenely beautiful. Gaz grabbed the lube. He slicked himself with a thick, glistening coat, then dripped more directly onto Jimmy’s hole, watching it seep into the pink furl.
He lined himself up, the broad, flushed head of his cock nudging against that yielding entrance. “Breathe out,” Gaz instructed, his voice tight. He pushed. There was immediate resistance, a tight, hot ring of muscle fighting the intrusion. Jimmy gasped, a sharp inhale of surprise and discomfort. The pressure built, a steady, stretching burn.
“Relax for me, Jimmy,” Gaz coached, his own body trembling with the effort of holding still. “Let me in. Just breathe through it.” He spat onto his fingers, added the wetness to Jimmy’s hole, then pressed again. The head popped past the tightest ring. Jimmy cried out, a short, pained sound, but then his body seemed to unlock, to surrender all at once. Gaz was surprised at how, after that initial breach, he fairly quickly slid to the root, his balls coming to rest against Jimmy’s perineum. He was fully sheathed. Deep. Jimmy shuddered violently around him, a choked moan tearing from his throat. Gaz felt the hot, velvet clench of him, an excruciating, perfect fit.
“Are you ok, baby?” Gaz asked, his own voice quivering with desire and the overwhelming sensation of Jimmy’s clutching hole. He had never felt anything so tight, so consuming.
Jimmy turned his head, his cheek pressed to the mattress. Tears gleamed in his eyelashes, but his eyes were blazing. “Don’t stop,” he begged, his voice raw. “Please, Gaz, fuck me. Fuck me like I’ll die without it.”
Gaz began to move. Slowly at first, a long, smooth withdrawal until just the tip remained, then a slow, deliberate slide back home. The wet, filthy sound of their joining filled the van. Gaz added more lube, then leaned forward to spit directly onto where they were joined, the cold droplets making Jimmy flinch before they were smeared away by the next thrust. The rhythm built. Gaz focused on the slide, the incredible heat, the way Jimmy’s body opened for him, accepted him. He fucked him with a steady, deep cadence, each stroke a claim.
Jimmy’s moans became a continuous, low wail. He pushed back against Gaz, meeting every thrust, his own cock leaking heavily beneath him. Gaz’s hands found Jimmy’s hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding him firm as the pace increased. It became less rhythmic, more urgent. Gaz’s breath came in ragged grunts. The coil in his gut tightened unbearably fast.
“Jimmy… fuck… I’m gonna…” he warned, the words ripped from him. He slammed in deep, hips stuttering. His orgasm tore through him with a force that momentarily whited out his vision. He came with a guttural roar, pumping his hot seed deep into Jimmy’s clutching channel in thick, pulsing jets. He held himself there, buried to the hilt, shuddering as the last waves drained him.
After a brief recovery, still lodged inside Jimmy, he felt Jimmy’s body clench around him in a different, frantic way. “Touch me,” Jimmy sobbed, his hand frantically reaching for his own cock. “Please, Gaz, I need it.”
Gaz, still breathing hard, reached around. Jimmy's come made his fingers slick as he wrapped them around Jimmy’s straining length. He jerked him fast, matching the aftershocks of his own orgasm. It took only three rough, messy strokes. Jimmy cried out, his body seizing as his own release splattered onto Gaz's hand, his hole spasming wildly around Gaz’s softening cock.
Gaz carefully pulled out, a mix of seed and lube following. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling Jimmy’s boneless form up and into his arms. They were both slick with sweat and spend. He held Jimmy close, saying nothing, just feeling the frantic, bird-like flutter of Jimmy’s heart gradually slow against his own.