Play On: A Glasgow Lads Novella (16 page)

“He’s right. A fundraiser’s a genius idea. Well done, you.”

“Thanks.” Brodie stared at the floor, shifting a fallen crisp back and forth with his toe. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here tonight.”

“You invited me, and I said I’d come. If you invite me to leave, I’ll do that, too.”

Brodie remembered John’s advice, to fight the fears holding him back from true happiness. Fight them for Duncan.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said toward the carpet. “I want to be with you.”

“Sorry?”

Brodie looked up to see Duncan with a finger behind his ear, and realized he’d spoken too softly to be heard over the music. Probably on purpose.

“Don’t leave!” Brodie shouted, exactly half a beat after the song’s abrupt end. His voice echoed in the brief silence, making every head in the room turn their way. The other partygoers hooted and applauded. Standing near the bar, John flashed Brodie a thumbs-up and a cheesy grin.

A new song began then, a slow one. With all his remaining courage, Brodie took Duncan’s hand. “This is the only sort of dancing I’ve the energy for, so—”

“So let’s use it.” Duncan led him to a clear space amid the couples. There the two of them raised and lowered their arms in an awkward pre-dance dance, trying to work out who was to lead. Their antsy maneuvers mirrored Brodie’s uncertainty. Getting back together couldn’t be this simple, not after all the hurt and fear between them.

Finally Duncan linked his hands behind Brodie’s neck. “You lead. You’re taller.”

“Only a wee bit, but okay.” Brodie felt his own breath stutter as he wrapped his arms about Duncan’s waist. He reminded himself to leave space between their bodies so he could keep his wits.

“You’re feeling better?” Duncan asked.

“Better than I was. Got bags of sleep this week.” He looked around at the other couples. “I’ve been to a dozen of these parties, and it still feels odd to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Dance with another loon. In front of…everyone.”

Duncan’s eyes turned sad, but they didn’t leave Brodie’s face. “I’m sorry for being a bastard.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was—during the match, and afterward, and even before. I was so off my nut about Evan and then that stupid defender, I couldn’t put myself in your place for two seconds.”

Brodie’s throat began to thicken with tears, blocking all the words that needed saying.
I’m sorry too. Sorry I crumble at the first sign of danger. Sorry I’m not man enough to live in your world.

He let go of Duncan. “I can’t do this.” He turned and bolted for the door. Duncan shouted his name, but it only made him run faster. He couldn’t let Duncan see him fall to pieces again.

Brodie had barely crossed the threshold when his dash slowed to a stagger, the lingering virus sucking his stamina. Halfway down the hall Duncan skidded in front of him to block his path.

“Brodie, don’t you dare tell me you can’t do anything. I know you better than that. How can you not see how amazing you are?”

“Maybe because most of my life, I’ve heard that people like me are pieces of shite who’ll burn in hell. After the first ten or fifteen years, it starts to sink in.”

“I know it does.” Duncan rubbed the side of his finger over his own lips. “No, I take that back. I
don’t
know what it’s like. I’ve had it easy. I can never really understand what you’ve been through. I look in your eyes and I see so much pain that I can’t take away. All these months we’ve known each other, you hid it so well. Or maybe I was just oblivious. Then last week, I saw it, but I didn’t
get
it. I didn’t know the power it had over you, until it came between us.”

Brodie put a hand to the wall to steady himself. He’d wanted Duncan to understand, but now that he did, it felt like his skin was peeling back, exposing every weakness. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Duncan’s voice softened. “I know you need to feel safe. And I know as long as those bullies are in your head, I can’t
make
you feel safe. Not by bringing you soup and tea, and not by punching out bad guys.” He took a step closer. “But maybe I can make you feel strong, and then you can make
yourself
feel safe.”

It seemed impossible. “How will you do that?”

“Just listen, okay?” Duncan squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ve worked out how to tell you something important, and I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Okay.” Brodie glanced at a group of girls passing by on their way to the party. “Go on,” he said when they were alone again.

Duncan bit his lip. “Look, I’m not one for holding back. It’s not in my nature. But with you, I held back. Every step of the way I let you lead.” His words tumbled out faster. “You pushed me away after vacation, so I waited. Then you kissed me. Then you pushed me away after our date, and I waited again. Then you came to my room. Then you pushed me away after the match, and I—I couldn’t wait anymore. I couldn’t stand to see you at the flat and not be with you. Knowing this time you weren’t coming for me.”

I did. I did come for you, but you were gone.

Duncan paused, tracing his finger over the wall tile. “You want to know why I waited, why I let you lead? Because I thought you were weak. But I was wrong.”

“I am weak,” Brodie whispered. “You deserve better.”

“I deserve
you
. Now in ten seconds, I’m going to take you in my arms and tell you
you’re
wrong too, because I know you’re strong enough to hear it.” He touched Brodie’s shoulder with a trembling hand and met his eyes. “Then in ten minutes, I’m going to take you back to my room and ask you to fuck me, because I know you’re strong enough to do it.”

Brodie gasped, his face flaming with shock, excitement, and finally confusion. “Wait, you mean—”

“Aye, I want you inside me,” he whispered, sliding his arms around Brodie’s waist. “You may not know your strength yet, but I do. And I’ll be happy to show it to you. Because I’m done holding back.”

Then Duncan kissed him, slow and deep, until Brodie’s entire spine turned to molten lava. His back softened into the perfect arch that melded their bodies. Yet other parts of him felt suddenly hard, even invincible.

He wanted this. He needed this. He feared this.

Finally Brodie drew away, long and far enough for one question. “Do we have to wait ten minutes?”

D
UNCAN
WANTED
TO
spend the interminable five-minute taxi ride home snogging their faces off, but he knew Brodie would be uncomfortable in the presence of the driver. So they merely held hands.

Merely
, hah. Their hands performed the most delicious simulation of what was to come. Fingers traced one another’s curves and angles, exploring every millimeter of skin. Then Brodie skated his nails over the back of Duncan’s hand, making him shiver. Finally their palms pressed together, arching and sliding like bodies in the heat of passion.

So by the time they reached his bedroom, Duncan was too turned on to be nervous—for now, at least.

As they stepped inside, the door brushed a piece of notepaper on the floor. Duncan picked it up.

I hope you come to the dance so we can talk. So I can tell you I’m sorry.

-Brodie

At the bottom were the dance party’s time and place.

“You didn’t see the note earlier?” Brodie asked. “It wasn’t why you came?”

“No, I went there from my parents’. I was never not coming.”

“That’s…wow.” Brodie took the note from him and examined it. Suddenly his face fell. “I never actually told you I was sorry, did I? I thought it, in my head.” He passed a hand over his hair, giving it an exasperated tug. “But I didn’t have the balls to say it.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. The things I said to you Saturday at the bus stop…all week I couldn’t stop seeing your face. It killed me knowing how much I’d hurt you. The thing is, in that moment, I
wanted
to hurt you. It felt like the only way to protect myself. But you didn’t deserve it.”

Until now, Duncan hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear Brodie apologize. “Maybe I did deserve it. Obviously I’d hurt your feelings too.”

“Not on purpose. It’s one thing to be insensitive. I was cruel.” He lifted his eyes to meet Duncan’s. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” Duncan moved closer and kissed him softly. “As long as I never hear the phrase ‘meaningless hormonal caper’ again.”

Brodie groaned. “Sorry about that.” He tapped his forehead lightly against Duncan’s. “What about ‘meaning
ful
hormonal caper’?”

“Ooh.” Duncan reached under Brodie’s shirt. “That sounds a belter.”

They undressed quickly, hands trembling more than ever, then Brodie pulled Duncan to lie beside him on the bed. As they kissed and touched, Duncan struggled to fathom how this lad could think his body inferior to anyone’s. It felt more than equal to his own. It felt perfect.

When the time was right, he pulled away long enough to retrieve the lube and condoms from the bottom drawer of his desk. Then he came back to the bed and propped his pillows against the wall. “Sit up here.”

Brodie looked confused, but did as he asked. Comprehension dawned on his face as Duncan straddled his legs.

“This way, I do all the work.” Duncan carefully rolled the condom down over Brodie’s long, stiff cock, biting back his own moan of anticipation. “You just relax and enjoy it.”

“You sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Well, there’s one wee thing.” He slicked the lube over the surface of the condom, then took Brodie’s hand and added a dollop to the tip of his middle finger. “Okay?”

Brodie nodded eagerly. His left arm drew Duncan close while his right hand snaked around, fingers slipping between Duncan’s cheeks.

Duncan whimpered at the first tentative touch of Brodie’s fingertip to his hole. He pressed against it, drawing him in. As Brodie grew bolder, probing deeper, Duncan couldn’t help moving his own hips, rubbing his cock against the smooth skin of Brodie’s chest. The feeling was so intense, it seemed impossible this was mere foreplay.

“More,” he urged. “Two fingers now.”

Brodie obliged, and Duncan’s pleasure quadrupled rather than doubled. He pressed his mouth to the top of Brodie’s head, muffling his cries in the thick, soft hair.

“God…” Brodie’s whisper held an edge of pain, the torture of restraint. “You feel amazing.”

You have no idea.
Duncan was past coherent speech now, as Brodie’s fingers curled, finding the sweet spot inside him. They massaged it again and again, until Duncan’s breath hitched into near sobs. He was ready for more, ready for everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to make this end.

Brodie’s strokes slowed. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me?”

“Hm?” Now trembling with need, Duncan blinked himself back to semi-reality. “What do you mean?”

“In the student union, you said something about how in ten minutes, you’d take me back to your room and ask me to…” His fingers went still, and his tone turned cheeky. “What was it again? I forget.”

“Fuck me,” Duncan said, hearing the naked plea in his voice. Then he pulled back to meet his eyes. “Will you fuck me, Brodie?”

“Aye,” he whispered, gazing up with fiery determination. “I will.”

= = =

This. Is Actually. Happening.

In a way, Brodie was glad he’d waited all year to have sex, until he’d found someone like Duncan.

No. Not someone
like
him. Him.

Perhaps he’d been waiting for Duncan since the moment they met, that day in September at the start of freshers week. Brodie had brought all his stuff from home by himself, unaccompanied by his parents. He’d jammed it into one giant rolling suitcase, which of course broke a wheel halfway between the bus stop and the student village.

The case’s second wheel gave up the ghost just outside their block of flats, so Brodie had dragged the monstrosity across the lobby floor, leaving twin black streaks on the linoleum. Then the handle broke off, sending the suitcase crashing to the floor.

That’s when Duncan appeared, like an angel in a football shirt, offering help. Together they carried the case upstairs, one at each end. In the lift they discovered they lived on the same level. Their immediate rapport verged on flirtation, until they reached Brodie’s front door and realized they were to be flatmates. In an instant, camaraderie was replaced by caution, a habit that became hard to break.

But maybe that was the day, unbeknownst to either of them, when Duncan became the one.

In any case, here he was now, naked in Brodie’s lap, knees spread around Brodie’s hips, arse positioned above Brodie’s cock.

“You’d better hold it steady,” Duncan said. “I’ve never tried this position before, so it might take me a second to get things, you know, on target.”

Brodie did as instructed, focusing intently on the place where they were to join.

“No. Watch me.” Duncan lifted Brodie’s chin with one finger. “Watch my face as I take you in. See how good you feel inside me.”

Brodie wanted to close his eyes, especially when he felt Duncan envelop him with a grip tighter, hotter, and slicker than any hand or mouth. He wanted to retreat deep inside himself to savor this new, exquisite pleasure.

But then he saw the way Duncan’s eyes rolled up, lashes fluttering, and the way his mouth formed a wide oval, jaw trembling. And Brodie could only watch, imprinting the sight into his memory, knowing he’d never forget this moment as long as he lived.

Holding onto Brodie’s shoulders, Duncan took him deeper with each slow rise and fall of his hips. Brodie dug his heels against the mattress, fighting the urge to thrust upward, instead letting Duncan’s body set the pace as it relaxed to make room for him inside. It seemed impossible that this masculine lad would let himself be so thoroughly invaded, but he seemed to love every moment, judging by his deep sighs and the flush of excitement in his curved, parted lips.

When at last Duncan engulfed all of him, he stopped and looked down, eyes glazed with pleasure. “You feel incredible.” Below, Duncan’s cock did a wee waggle. “See? It agrees with me.”