Cigar Time, Gentlemen #52

This posting is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.

It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

These are parts of stories that are still being written. its coming right off the paper no re-read. No editing. No checking.

 

So this next scene comes from the old book 6, it was going to be the ‘side story’

But as I’ve learnt that I won’t be able to put in the side stories, as well as the fact that I’ll have to change this one, making it an actual short story before putting into a ‘side story’

 

Anyway, if you haven’t read it, it might help if you read this first

 

 

Side Story

The Argument between Craig and Phil

 

 

“What the fuck is that,” Craig asked, his voice a low growl, as he pulled down the collar on Phil’s shirt.

     “Ah,” yeah, idiot, how ya gonna explain this one?

     “Ah?”

     “Yeah, you see… it’s…”

     “A fucking hicky, yeah, I can see that,” Craig spat out, venom coating every word. “It ain’t like you can hide it.”

     “It’s a bite, not a hicky.”

     “Oh, yeah, ‘cause that’s better.”

     “well it wasn’t put on me ‘cause of anything loving, this guy I use to fuck, he’s a biter, but as soon as I said no, he backed the fuck off, was even gonna hang ‘round to apologise to you, but I said it wouldn’t matter.”

     “It wouldn’t matter!” Craig roared, his knuckles turned white around the steering wheel and Phil had a moment of panic. This really wasn’t the place to have an argument. They weren’t far from home, but statistics were statistics and he really didn’t want to be involved in an accident because he couldn’t calm down his mate.

     But the arsehole was having a little overreaction to the whole thing. Didn’t he trust Phil to not sleep around? 

     “Well it shouldn’t,” Phil snapped. “You should trust that I didn’t do anything.”

     “Yeah and where’s this magical trust coming from?” Craig asked, “The fact that we know each other for more than a month? the fact that I was brought up to trust everybody and everything, like they weren’t put on the fucking earth to treat you like shit and make you miserable the moment they had the chance.”

     Phil opened his mouth to reply but instead of his words filling the car, Craig spoke, “Get out, I gotta clear my head.”

     Phil looked out the window, realising Craig had pulled in front of their house, the car idling and fingers clenching around the steering wheel. 

     “That’s it, you’re just gonna leave,” Phil said as he opened the door and got out.

     “I’m not leaving, just clearing my head so I don’t hurt you.”

     “Yeah,” Phil got out of the car, “Tell yourself that.” the door slammed shut behind him.

     The whirl of the car windowing going down had Phil pausing, he looked back, crouched a little so he could see Craig.

     “You don’t get to shove trust into my head and no hold it tight yourself.” Then he pulled off the shoulder and took off down the road.

     Fucking last words, Phil rub absentmindedly at his chest, and what words they were.

     Sighing, Phil pulled his phone out of his pocket, before ringing Colin. He picked at the mark on his neck, feeling as sick as he had when the dents where put there as he did now, he waiting for Colin to pick up. He needed advice.

     No, what he needed was a sound board that would just fucking listen until he ran out of words and then tell him what he didn’t want to hear.

 

 

He’d spend a long time getting chewed out by Colin and Tim, both telling him everything he didn’t want to hear and more, which did exactly what Phil had thought it would. It pissed him right off. mumbling things he wasn’t even sure he understood his mouth let him vent as his mind try to reason and rationales and work out if what he’d been heard to actually be turned around to not make him look like an arrogant arsehole who deserved to have his mate piss off and never return.

     He’d been lucky that when he go here the others were arriving and so he didn’t get the full attention of the house, because just a little bit was bad enough, even as he struggled with the need to tell them—himself—to fuck off. That this wasn’t his fault, he didn’t want Dean to come on to him.

     He didn’t want the bite, and he’d made sure the man hadn’t stayed there long. However, as his mind whirled, churned, bitched, and whined, he came to realise that everything was his fault, and not just from this moment, that shouldn’t have been able to happen at all, but for the fact that he was in love with a guy that he wasn’t even sure new it.

     Had he told Craig he loved him? Had he ever taken a moment to let the other man know that he meant the world to Phil? That Phil would do absolutely anything—would become, would suffer anything just so Craig wouldn’t be alone.

     So he wouldn’t ever have to feel an ounce of pain again.

     Phil didn’t think he had. He didn’t think he’d ever told anyone just how much they meant to him, it wasn’t like he was raised in a loving household where the people who birthed you saw you as something special and not an accessory because they wanted what all the friends had.

     Which made the fact that he was gay and his parents homophobic arsehole a lot easier to suffer though. At the end of the day, all his parents had wanted was for him to look nice for the photos, and then fuck off with a handful of cash. 

     He’d never understood what relationships really meant until he’d meet Colin and became like brothers with nothing more than a handshake. Yet, that still allowed of him to hold back his tongue and not lapse into song whenever he felt a little bit of love bubble up.

     Colin hadn’t needed that. He had his own baggage and it was a shit load worse than anything Phil could bring to the table. Colin had also had Tim, or he’d gotten Tim and that was when Phil noticed what other guys were telling him when they dumbed his arse for being a cold-hearted bitch.

     He’d seen love, lust, and want wrapped in a bubble of small touches and sappy smiles.

     He’s felt those smiles on his own face as he looked at Craig, and felt all those touches from Craig’s calloused hands, but he didn’t really feel like it was anything different from what he’d always been like. He didn’t think anything of it, until this moment he passed and bitched and wondered on things he’d never really wanted to think of.

     The door started opening, it was almost done in slow motion, and then Phil saw Craig, a moment before he caught a look at the pretty thing that followed in behind him.

     “What the fuck are you doing here?”

     “Who to fuck is that?” They spoke at the same time, both with an air of rightness.

     Who the fuck did Craig think was, yeah they were having a fight but did that give him the right to bring another man home. What did he think, that he would get even with Phil by fucking someone else.

     Fingers bit into his bicep, and Craig’s tone was tense but low as he spoke. “He’s my cousin, which doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

     “I needed to get my arse kicked,” Phil explained, already his anger was draining away and leaving a prettiness he wasn’t sure how to explain.

     He’d done nothing wrong, but in that one—one, fucking bright as the day moment, he realised exactly how Craig felt upon seeing bruised teeth marks in the back of his neck.

     “Fuck,” he sighed, his head dropping.

     “Finally got it, huh?”

     “Fuck you,” he tried to sound like he was pissed but he was sure the small smile fighting to tilt his lips gave him away.

     “If that’s what you need,” Craig said as he pulled Phil down the short hall and into the visitors bathroom.

     Nothing but a shower, toilet and skin, the bathroom was white on white. It looked and felt clean, not that any of that matter since as soon as Craig got him in the room—as soon as the door clicked shut he was turned and his back slammed into the hard wood.

     Craig’s mouth attacked him one hand griped his hair tight, angling him, the other was wrapped around his neck, fingers scratching at the teeth marks.

     A growl came from Craig, seemed to travel a long way up before reaching Phil because it was animalistic, and made Phil flush with heat. His cock already hard from being slammed into the door leaked and whined behind his fly. He’s feet shifted, opening more, needing some added room between his tights, as his pants seemed too shrink around him.

     Phil was manhandled, a shiver worked against his skin, his breath panted out of him as he was forced up against the door. His face pushed hard into the wood as Craig plastered himself against his back.

     Teeth bit against his skin. Grinding and sinking deep, as Craig worked the other guy’s teeth marks out of his neck by putting his own on Phil.

     It was pure instinct and it was hotter than anything Phil had ever felt before.

     His fingers worked at his button and fly. Fishing his cock out of his jeans moment before Craig’s hands came around, realised they weren’t needed up front and that beautiful body heat took a step back. Phil whimpered at the loss, even as fingers still held his head still.

     Craig’s other hand pushed at Phil’s jeans, getting caught against his hips, as he growled some more. Full-blown need sang behind him. a frustrated need that made everything ten times more difficult to do because his mind was already in the fucking even if he’s yet to get his cock wet.

     “Stay” Craig said with a push at Phi’s head, emphasising where he wanted him to stay. Phil’s hands still moved as he pushed his pants down to his ankle, before waddling out slightly, getting in the best position for a reaming.

     He smiled as wet fingers brushed his skin, and sighed as he was breached with two fingers.

     Push and twist, push and twist, and they left, than a cock head. So much different from fingers, it was almost soft before Craig breached him and showed just how hard he was.

     A burn radiated out from this hole, tingled his nerves as it always did. There was nothing better than a bit of pain with fucking. Nothing that made Phil feel more alive as when he felt the action all the way to his bones.

     Soon it was over, a light sting here and there as Craig started moving letting pleasure override the pain.

     Fingers dug deep into his hip as Phil bit back everything he suddenly felt he needed to say. He wasn’t a talker during sex, hardly moaned out loud through the best of fuckings, so it was a new type of feeling to have a need to spill his guts.

     Teeth latched onto his neck again. A growl rolled around the sensitive skin, which ran down his back and met up with the pleasure from having his prostate slammed into, and he was down.

     Cutting his cock head, Phil tried to catch all the sperm he could has orgasm rolled him the fuck over and kicked his arse. It was a matter of self-preservation that had him even remembering the flogging he would get if he left come on Eamon’s walls. 

     “Fuck,” Craig said as he let his hand rest on Phil’s shoulder blades.

     “You can say that again.”

     “Fuck.” they both chucked, a mood breaker if every they needed one. Both shifting, Phil shuffled over to the sink, before grabbing a hand cloth and washing himself up.

     “You do know I trust you, right?” Craig lent against the sink, watching Phil clean up.

     “I trust you to.” Phil flashed him a smile.

     It was at that moment, when their eyes locked, soft and oh so rosy, that it hit Phil, he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t do the whole romance, that couldn’t spell out there feeling with words, or even, most of the time, with jesters. Yeah Craig touched, but even Phil new that was more of possessiveness than sappiness.

     Until this moment, when he realised that ‘trust’ actually meant ‘love’ and they had both just done something that was highly uncomfortable and yet needed.

     The best of it all was that he could see it in Craig’s eyes, that need for Phil to understand what he was saying, and the realisation that Phil not only got it, but was giving it back.

     “Fuck we’re sappy bastards,” he muttered as he zipped up his pants.