In Safe Hands - 15. Chapter 15

In Safe Hands
by Riley Jericho

Chapter Fifteen

Laying in the darkness on his bed, Miguel traced the telltale sounds coming out of the bathroom, the splashing reminding him of his own needy bladder. There was the sound of flushing, followed by that slight shuddering that came from dodgy pipe work, which heralded the washing of hands. After a moment, he observed the thin line of light under the door extinguish, as the switch was flipped prior to Elliott re-emerging into the dark.

"I need one too," he muttered, crawling across Elliott's side to escape before the exit was barred. The boys passed by each other in the dark and he took his turn in the bathroom, pushing his briefs out of the way and standing patiently, waiting for the flow to begin. Of all the possible thoughts that could have been crossing his mind as a result of sleeping next to Elliott Carter that night, none of them, just then, were the slightest bit raunchy!

As he waited, he recalled why.

* * *

After the confrontation with Alejandro, he’d finally been panicked into movement. Shortly after Alejandro had spit him out and left him on the floor, he'd hurried out of the changing tent. Everything had got out of control and he was scared.

Why the hell did he have to go and tell Alejandro, about the very thing he’d carefully shielded from everyone for years? Now it was out, and everything was over…

He turned one direction and then the other, feeling sick and unable to make a decision. In the end, there was only one way he could go.

As far away as possible!

Moving silently away from the raucous sounds, it seemed inconceivable that – even right at that very moment - Alejandro wasn't rapidly telling as many people as he could, EVERYTHING he now knew about him. His face burned in the night, as he imagined the shocked looks and grim comments as Alejandro let them know what he REALLY was.

With no real plan of what to do, he hid out near the warehouse that housed the wine cellar Estela had taken him to. Pacing back and forward under the eaves, he was filled with uncertainty. Any way he looked at it, there seemed no way out. No way to go back in time and change something, and no way to go forward from this point, that wasn’t going to change everything!

After some time, he knew he had to get back. Perhaps if he could find Elliott, and leave, it might all go away. The rains had stopped and, as the sultry air began to clear, he walked back through the woods, close to the path that came from the warehouse.

Emerging through the trees near to the side of the house, he encountered a young couple who’d found themselves some private space for a snog. Away from the crowds, they’d found a spot, hidden from view of the main path, between thick bushes.

Keeping out of sight, he watched them for a few moments. He’d seen them together earlier in the evening and, though had no idea who she was, he recognised the guy, though he didn’t know his name. Even from a distance, from the soft glow that played over them from the pathway lighting, he could see a sizable lump in the guy’s tight swim shorts. As he continued to observe them, the girl discovered it too. As they got busy, her hand drifted down to run her fingers over his outline.

Even though he suspected they’d only just met, she didn’t appear scandalized that he had a hard-on and neither did he seem intimidated, or spooked that she’d found his arousal.

It wasn’t fair, and it suddenly made him angry that such a thing was allowed for normal people. Guys who could get excited in the presence of a girl – any kind of girl, even the ugly ones! That was OK, and it didn’t even matter whether the girl actually liked him or not! But, if a boy showed that same arousal around another boy, 99% of the time, the shit would hit the fan! Get a boner in the school showers? Go ahead – if you wanted your LIFE to end!

He shouted something obscene and then scuttled away as they jerked apart, in surprise. He thought it would be funny, and tried to laugh at their discomfort, but it did nothing to ease his own. He was unable to forget he too had just been found out, but in a different way. And who knew what would happen now?

It could only be bad.

Back by the gazebo, the sides were in the process of coming down and teens were spilling out onto the patio once again.

“MIGUEL!”

He saw the young American, even before he shouted.

“I was beginning to think you’d left! “ Elliott stood as Miguel appeared at the pool, near where he’d been sitting alone with his thoughts. “I looked everywhere for you – where the hell have you been!”

Miguel looked uncomfortable. “Sorry…I was…do you mind if we went home,” he muttered, looking around himself quickly. It felt like every eye was on him.

“Oh. You want to go home, too?” asked Elliott.

“Kind of…is that OK?” he replied, in surprise.

Elliott nodded. “Do you need to call your dad or something?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

Elliott shook his head. “Nearly eleven, I think.”

“We could always walk?” he suggested. “It’s only a couple of miles and mostly downhill. Dad wasn’t going to come for us until one.” Even 1AM wasn’t considered late in that part of the world.

“OK – I don’t mind – let’s walk,” agreed Elliott. “Oh, perhaps we need to tell Alejandro?” Miguel followed him as they walked towards the gazebo. “Alejandro!” Elliott spotted him on the patio.

His heart started racing, and he swallowed uncomfortably as Alejandro walked slowly over and they faced each other.

“We’re going home,”” he said, quietly. “Walking.” For the longest time, Alejandro just stared at him, no doubt deciding how best to destroy him. Maybe this was always going to happen? Being ‘outed‘ in some shameful way. But why did it have to be now? He hung his head.

“I won’t say anything,” was all Alejandro finally said. Even then, Miguel flinched as if struck.

“I’m going to get my things,” he muttered, and turned towards the tent, hurrying off.

“What was that all about?” Elliott demanded.

“Nothing. Why should you care anyway?”

“Because he’s my friend - I’d never do anything to hurt him,” Elliott retorted. “We were going to walk home,” he added.

“You’re not staying?”

“I’m going with Miguel.”

“I think I’ll stay.” Alejandro shrugged and walked off.

* * *

Still missing one towel, and with Elliott being rather cagey about where it had gone, they’d made their excuses and walked home. Neither Miguel nor Elliott had spoken much as they’d trotted along in the dark and both were glad when they’d got off the dark lanes and into a familiar part of town. It had been around twelve by the time they finally got in, though it hadn’t taken as long as he’d expected.

His parents had been surprised to see them at the door and, predictably, his mama had told them off for walking home in the dark, at that hour. His papa seemed more relieved that he didn’t have to do a late pickup!

They all went to bed, with he and Elliott quickly sliding under the sheets in his room, neither bothering to shower. Soon, they were asleep.

Several hours later, after Elliott had already been, he stood in the privacy of his bathroom, and let his bladder go. As he began to pee, he stared into the bowl thoughtfully.

Shortly after, Miguel appeared at the side of the two beds, and Elliott felt him glide over the top of him, as he crossed to get to his side. Plumping up his pillow, he turned to where, in the darkness, Miguel was doing the same.

“What did Alejandro mean?”

Miguel stopped moving and lay still.

‘What?”

“He said he wasn’t going to say anything…”

Miguel was silent.

“What did he mean?”

In the darkness, Miguel shrugged and closed his eyes thankfully. “Dunno,” he murmured untruthfully.

Elliott wasn’t sure why he’d asked, because he wasn’t sure that he needed, or wanted, to know the answer. The only thing he really cared about was what he’d said to Alejandro. ‘I wouldn’t hurt Miguel. Ever’! He had no idea what Alejandro was playing at, but he’d better watch it!

What about himself, he mused? What did HE want? For as long as he could remember, it had always been about someone else – keep the peace, make sure everyone else was happy. What about HIM? What about what he wanted… needed? Like when you have a bad dream, he told himself. I just need to know someone’s there. As they lay on their individual mattresses, he could feel the warmth coming across the small space between Miguel and himself, and just felt the need to close that gap.

Moving slightly, he made the lightest contact with his foot against Miguel’s leg. His head told him he was being a fool, but he needed something just then. The delicate contact was comforting and Miguel didn’t pull away. Soon, he dropped off to sleep once more.

* * *

Several hours later, a noise woke him and his eyes blinked open to greet the daylight, forcing its way through the slats in the blinds. Lying completely still in the familiar room that wasn't his, he replayed the 'clunk' sound in his head and decided it was probably the door.

The front door.

Someone had left.

He didn't have to turn to look, to decide that that 'someone' definitely WASN'T Miguel. He continued to lie still, listening to him breathing softly. He was comfortable. The second part of the night had been dreamless, and he felt like he’d hardly moved an inch.

It seemed only moments ago that he’d reached out with his foot but, during the hours of dark, that slight touch had turned into full body contact. At some point, he’d pressed up against Miguel – or maybe it was the other way around. As they lay back-to-back, the Spaniard's milky brown skin warmed him. He’d even hooked his leg behind him, around Miguel’s, to lock him into place against him.

From where he lay, he could see the hands of Miguel’s small alarm clock. It was quite late. Miguel was so cozy, but he knew he should move, before he awoke.

Definitely he should, he told himself again, but the moments continued to pass.

Absolutely he knew he really HAD to move - yet he continued to lie there, exploring the contact. It reminded him of the night he and Miguel had squeezed into the beanbag together, watching a movie, skin to skin.

Through the open window, the distant noises of traffic filtered, and that alarm clock sitting on the chest of drawers declared that they should have left for the beach quite some time ago. As carefully as he could, he extracted his leg and rolled onto his belly, immediately missing the warm skin. Even as he moved, he felt Miguel shift in response.

So...you're awake too?

"What time is it?" yawned Miguel. It sounded like he’d just woken, but Elliot knew otherwise.

"It’s nearly ten.”

“I think Mama and Papa already left."

"You heard them? I think I heard the door go, too." Elliott twisted his head towards Miguel and searched his face, but his expression was unreadable. "I think we overslept..."

“You don’t say!” Miguel grinned at him with amusement and stretched. “I’m thirsty.” He threw the sheets off himself.

“Did you sleep okay?” Miguel looked better that morning, he thought. Certainly brighter than he’d been late yesterday evening. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Like a log! I need something to drink though. Do you want something?”

“Well, maybe something cold. Is there any orange juice in the fridge?”

After Miguel had squashed him, climbing over the top, he’d left for the kitchen in search of the fridge. Elliott sat up and stretched. On the desk something caught his eye. As he got off the bed to investigate, a voice called down the corridor.

“There’s no orange, I’m afraid," Miguel shouted. "Some apple though – will that do?”

“Please,” he called back. Picking up what he found on the desk, he sat on the chair, turning them over in his fingers, thoughtfully.

"Do you mind if I go first?" he called again.

"What?"

"A shower - is it okay if I go first?" he repeated more loudly.

"Oh - sure, if you want."

Elliott put what he'd found back down on the desk and closed the bathroom door behind himself, taking with him the choice he knew he had to make. When he re-emerged, several minutes later, he felt refreshed, though no closer to deciding.

What did he want?

Miguel was back and was standing at the window, having opened the blinds to let the sunlight stream in. It lit up his frame. With PARIS still emblazoned on his backside, Elliott studied him.

“Mama left a note,” Miguel said, without turning. “She said they’ve all gone down to the beach – your lot too - and we should follow them when we get up, if we want to. She just wants us to get the washing out and put it on the line before we come.”

Elliot wasn’t really listening. “Nice bum,” he murmured.

“What?” Glass in hand, Miguel turned, and peered at him suspiciously.

“Oh – I said, where did you get these from?” Both stared at the pair of hessian colored, leather wristbands as he picked them up again and held up. “They were on your desk.”

“I...errr…they were the ones we were looking at.” Miguel cringed. He’d completely forgotten about those – they’d been in the pocket of the jeans he’d been wearing. His Mama must have washed them and left the bands in his room. “I decided to get them yesterday, when I went down to get a card for Estela. The market stall was still open. I’d forgotten about them. They didn’t cost much…I just thought…y’know…”

“Oh.” Elliott blinked.

Wrapped just in the towel, he advanced on Miguel, but halted at the chest of drawers, opened the top drawer and took out a pair of briefs. They weren't his favourite colour, but they would do. He reached in again and extracted another pair.

Holding both, he handed one to Miguel. "Your turn."

Miguel held them limply.

"The shower?" he prompted. He noticing Miguel's eyes flick to the pair of briefs he was holding. From there, unable to help himself, Miguel then let his gaze drop momentarily to the towel at his waist. As Elliott studied him, the eyes blinked and Miguel's nose flared.

There. There it was.

"Oh, right," said Miguel. At the door, he turned. "Elli, do you mind if we don't go to the beach today? We could stay at the pool instead."

Elliott nodded. He didn’t really want to go down to the crowds today, either.

He waited till the door closed, before releasing the towel from his waist. He used it to rub his hair dry, then pulled on the briefs he’d got out of Miguel’s drawer.

There were two things he was sure of that morning.

He’d changed, that was for sure. Because of facing up to what had happened with Edgardo, it had opened up a few things. Things, about himself, he'd never been able to see before; hidden in broad daylight. The signs had been there for some time. He’d just never been able to read them well enough.

What he knew now, was that these unexpected feelings he had for Miguel, were incredibly important. His body had been telling him for nearly two weeks, starting from that very first morning. It was his head that was only just catching up!

Perhaps, if he'd been indoctrinated on the playground, he might have been more disturbed by his newly discovered knowledge. As it was, he just accepted it. Experiment. Find what it is that you like. That was what his dad had always said. So...he liked guys; how did that makes the advice any different?

That was the first thing he had become sure of.

The second was: Miguel was the same.

Now he knew what to look for, it was all there, down to that poorly disguised hungry look, a few moments ago. Miguel liked guys too, he was sure of it. And more than that, Miguel liked him. And that left him with the decision that threatened to paralyze him!

A few minutes later, Miguel opened the bathroom door and, watching curiously, he observed him from the bed. Miguel rubbed himself dry before slipping on the dark orange briefs he’d picked out for him.

“You forgot your drink,” said Miguel, spraying his armpits and noting, with a smile, that the beds were already made the beds and the room tidied.

“Ooops – sorry - so I did.” He got off the bed and downed the glass on one shot. Still only in briefs himself, he stepped to the desk again and picked up the two leather wristbands. Bringing them back to the bed, he lay down on his stomach over the top of the neatly tucked sheets. He scooted over to Miguel’s side, inviting and making room. The pillow smelt of Miguel and he hugged it to his chest as he studied what he’d found.

There was no other word. They were beautiful. “Thank you.” He smiled, with real pleasure. “How did you know I really liked them?”

Miguel shrugged and came to lie next to him. He took one of the bands. It was a simple, yet beautifully intricate design.

“It wasn’t hard – they still had your drool on them when I bought them!” Miguel sniggered, earning himself a kick. “They are cool though, aren’t they? I guess you’ll be going home soon - I just wanted to get you something to remember Spain by.”

There was a subtle pain, at the reminder that he would be leaving again. Part of him said he should to be cautious. If he was going to leave, then it would probably be better to take what he’d learned about himself, and move on. Another part, as he fingered the band he was holding, knew he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Warmed by the renewed contact of skin fresh from the shower, he tapped his foot against Miguel’s lower leg affectionately.

“You didn’t have to - you know that!”

In response, Miguel’s leg slid over the top of his and rested there, tapping him gently in return; probing inquisitively. Is anyone there, it seemed to ask? Responding subtly, he snuggled closer, allowing Miguel’s leg to slip down in between his: the smallest of movements that spoke volumes.

Both fondled with the bands, until he could bare the silence no longer. “Can you put it on?” he asked. He took the band that would be easier to attach, two handed, and offered his wrist.

The two bands were identical. Some chose gold, but for him, the leather would be just as binding. Staring at the soft leather, he felt a deep emotion that pulled at him, calling him to make his own silent vow.

I take you to be my partner in life, and my one true love.

He turned to face Miguel and held out his hand, watching carefully as the band slipped over his fingers, to be laced into position by Miguel.

I will cherish our union and, each day, love you more than I did the day before.

Turning his wrist, he admired the small thing that meant so much.

I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together.

“Here, let me do yours,” he offered, taking Miguel’s hand in return, binding the soft leather to his wrist.

I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.

Turning slightly to face both the wall, Elliott tried not to tremble. He could so easily make his final choice to give Miguel everything – but…

He held up his wrist into a ray of the warm sunshine. “Let me see yours.”

Complying, Miguel reached over the top and brought his wrist alongside his own. Two bands. A promise that made him shake.

“Elli – are you okay?”

What do you really want? Again, Elliot asked himself the question, already knew the answer; but the fear still consumed him. Despite it, he took Miguel’s arm and drew it close around himself.

Miguel shook now. Afraid. So much that he wanted; so much that could go wrong, if he was mistaken. “Elli?” He murmured softly, struggling to know what to say. He was confused. They were lying together, and he was holding Elliott Carter. It was what he wanted – yet there was something wrong, and he didn’t know what it was, or what to do.

“Elli...” he started again. His voice sounded tight. “Is this…are you okay?”

“I’ve never been so scared in my whole life,” Elliott said quietly.

“Scared?” Was it the bad dream he’d had? “What of?”

“You…”

He recoiled inside, dismayed. NO! How had he got it SO wrong? Quickly, he began to pull his arm away, believing - knowing - that it had been a mistake, but Elliott gripped him hard, refusing to let him loose.

"I'm scared that I'm going to leave."

Leave? You?

Completely out of his depth, he sensibly kept quiet, waiting. Hoping.

"You see, I'll have to go. I always have to go. But you won't call. You won't write. You'll just forget about me...like..." Elliott trailed off. "Like Edgardo," he muttered the name, painfully, to the wall. "And....and I'll be left wondering what I did wrong...."

In the middle of his confused state of mind, Miguel had a moment of calm and clarity. It wasn't about him at all, at least not in the way he thought.

But who was Edgardo?

Elliott still wouldn’t let go of him so, pushing his questions and misgivings away, he threw caution to the wind and held him close, protectively. Wrapping his arm fully around him, he pulled him into his body, and buried his face into the long, still-damp, hair.

Elliott was warm and intoxicating. A hardness that he couldn’t help, began to press through the cotton and into Elliott, and he squirmed as he realised he was growing erect. He twisted uncomfortably, trying to make it less obvious You should have tucked it under, his own voice chided him. Then he trembled as he felt Elliott stir against him.

"Elli - I don't understand. Who's Edgardo?" he said, trying not to panic.

Elliott snuggled back against Miguel. Those arms felt warm and safe, and he relaxed. His backside pressed into Miguel’s groin and he smiled when he felt his erection. He’d already made his decision. He’d made it a long time ago.

“It’s OK,” he said simply. He took the arm he was holding and drew it down his stomach, guiding the hand to where his own arousal was there to be discovered. He could feel the ripple of surprise pass through Miguel and sighed with satisfaction.

“I need to tell you about Edgardo,” he said, still not turning away from the wall, “and why I ran off last night.”

For the next few minutes, as he spoke about a boy called Edgardo Morales, Miguel pressed close, no longer hiding his interest. As he told his story, one of Miguel’s hands played in his long damp hair. The other caressed him through his briefs, at the place where he had guided.

I’m still here, the hand said, as it comforted and stroked protectively. It felt nice, and he didn’t resist it.

“We never did anything,” he murmured. “It wasn’t like that.” He wondered if, eventually, he and Edgardo would have. Maybe. He would never know and actually, now, it didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was here and now, lying right next to him, holding him and caressing gently.

He came to an end, and closed his eyes, focusing on the feelings that were beginning to overtake him.

"Elli..I..I can't help it. I've only just found you,” Miguel whispered, now that he’d finished his tale. “I can't afford to let you go."

He hardly heard him. Finally he could wait no longer and gripped Miguel’s hand onto himself through the cotton, pushing hard against him until he came, groaning through his climax.

Miguel was jolted out of his daydream. He was shocked. Whilst Elli had been telling his story, he’d listen, but also focused on the one thing he thought the world would never allow him.

Being given permission to hold Elliott – even only through his briefs - in this very private way, was mind-blowing. Maybe he just hadn’t thought it through but, as Elliott suddenly ejaculated, he pulled his hand away as if burnt.

Oh shit – what have I done!

He panicked, even though a part of him knew it wasn’t just HIM that had been responsible. Guiltily he knew he’d just jerked Elliott off. But had he given permission, or said that was what he wanted? He stared in dread at the heaving shoulders in front of him, wondering how angry he was going to be.

“Elli…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”

Elliott shifted position and let go of his arm. As turned around to face him, his face was flushed, but his eyes were bright and alive.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“Well I shouldn’t have – I mean I should have asked – I didn’t expect…”

Elliott looked at him quizzically as he floundered. Quite impulsively it seemed, he found his lips, and brushed his own against them.

It was a kiss.

They were both taken by surprise, neither having ever kissed a boy before. Miguel slumped back on the pillow, blinking, and Elliott chewed his own lip tentatively, tasting a little mint there. “I never did that before,” he murmured.

Me neither, Miguel sighed to himself. He reached out his hand, putting it around Elliott’s neck, tugging slightly; not hard, but enough to get the message across, and Elliott lowered his head back down.

They hadn’t been there too long, before he felt a hand push underneath the edge of his soft briefs, to where he was leaking big time. He didn’t last ANYWHERE near as long as Elliott had and, mouth locked into his, cried into him as he erupted.

For long moments, as they lay entwined, his whole body heaved. Elliott couldn’t help it, and let go a snorting giggle.

“What?” he groaned, stars still confusing his vision, the powerful climax leaving him feeling completely finished.

“You don’t half make a mess,” Elliott sniggered. Still holding him underneath his briefs, he moved his rather gooey hand on the sensitive shaft, until he squealed!