Nemesis: Because I Want You - 7. Chapter Seven: My Sweet Prince

CHAPTER SEVEN

My Sweet Prince

God, I am so bored!

Nick read the text with a small smile. Dave was still grounded, and would be for another couple of days, as punishment for landing himself in detention. As a result, the two of them hadn’t yet had an opportunity to hang out, but Dave had texted him the moment he got home from the detention, and kept doing so several times a day since then. Nick texted him back.

Aww, poor thing! Knee still not well enough for football either?

He put down his phone on his bedside table and pulled his duvet over himself, staring at it. A few seconds later, it buzzed again.

No. Thanks for that! :–P

Nick had the decency to feel ashamed. It was, after all, he who had tripped Dave and caused him to bang his knee.

Sorry. Hope it’s not too painful… :–(

The response came a few minutes later.

No, just annoying. My cousin’s coming to stay tomorrow, though, so I’ll be less bored then. :–)

That’s good.

Nick felt a little bit jealous. He wished he could go to Dave’s house and entertain him. Not that Dave would be allowed to have friends over while grounded, of course, even if they weren’t Nick.

Have they had any luck tracking down your bike, btw?

Nope. And they probably won’t.

That sucks…

Nick wasn’t sure what else to say. He got into bed and stared at his phone for a bit. Dave texted back a couple of minutes later.

We need to find the time to meet up soon.

Nick felt his heart flutter as he wrote back.

Yeah, I’ve been thinking that. I want to get to know you as not my enemy… :–P

He waited with bated breath for Dave’s reply. He didn’t have to wait long.

Yeah, me too. Maybe I’ll get my parents out of the house some day and you can come over.

Nick’s breathing quickened.

Maybe. But, seriously, it’s almost midnight, we need to sleep. Stop texting me! :–P

All right. Good night. x

Nick knew the ‘x’ didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t stop him from smiling wider, before writing back.

Sweet dreams. x

* * *

Dave and Matt were, without peer, the two most attractive guys in school. Although Nick only really cared about Dave, he had often noticed his dark-haired teammate as well.

They were in the changing room after PE, on a Friday afternoon. Nick was sitting over in a corner, trying to blend into the background. The changing room was the most difficult place for him to be—simultaneously terrifying and potentially arousing. He’d never been any good at physical education, always the last picked for teams and frequently ridiculed, and why he had to keep attending lessons for it in year eleven when he had absolutely no intention of taking a PE GCSE was beyond him. He always waited until everyone else had finished before hitting the showers himself, and always did his best not to look when the others got undressed, especially Dave.

He couldn’t always help himself, though. He glanced over at Dave and Matt. Dave was in his pants, towel draped over his shoulder, his wet hair falling in strands across his forehead. Matt was in the process of zipping up his jeans.

The two were of an almost equal height. Matt’s body was toned and slim, much like Dave’s, but with alabaster skin rather than Dave’s golden complexion. He had unruly dark hair to his shoulders, pierced ears and a nipple ring, and looked for all the world like a rock star. If Dave were to ever go gay for anyone, surely it would more likely be for someone like Matt than for Nick. Matt struck him as the type who would try it out for a laugh, too.

Matt said something Nick couldn’t hear, and Dave burst out laughing. Nick had to close his eyes and take a moment to steady his breathing. He loved that laugh . . . It wasn’t the mocking laugh he had got so used to hearing over the years, but Dave’s genuine laugh, the one he had used when they talked during their detention. He opened his eyes again and spared one quick, longing glance for Dave.

‘What you staring at, faggot?’ said a voice. Nick started and his head snapped up. Alan was looming over him, smirking.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Nick in a flat tone. ‘Piss off. Please.’

‘Were you looking at Matt? Or Dave?’ Alan grinned nastily. ‘Or both? Not that I’d blame you, they’re both quite fit, don’t you think, faggot?’

‘Stop calling me that,’ said Nick quietly, staring down at his fists.

‘Why?’ Alan mocked. ‘Isn’t that what you are, faggot? Can’t even admit it, can you? Pathetic!’

‘You know, they’ve done studies that prove that the most homophobic men are all closet cases,’ Nick retorted casually, feeling brave. ‘I wonder what nasty fantasies you’ve got involving those two. Threesomes in the shower? That what you think about when you have a wank?’

The punch was almost worth it for the look on Alan’s face. Almost. As it was, it knocked the wind out of Nick and he coughed.

‘Oi, that’s enough!’ came Dave’s voice. He only had to touch Alan’s shoulder and the other took a few steps back.

‘He called me a faggot!’ Alan spat.

‘Aww, that’s just wishful thinking cause he likes you!’ Dave said with a grin. ‘Come on, Alan, leave it be. Not worth getting in trouble over if a teacher comes in, right?’

Alan’s shoulders slumped and he retreated, like a dog with its tail between its legs. Nick looked on in fascination and was hit with a sudden, stunning realisation. Alan liked Dave! Nick doubted even Alan was aware of it, but it made too much sense to be fiction. Alan, the greatest homophobe in town, was repressing his latent homosexual feelings for his best friend. It was too good not to be true!

Later, he realised how sad it really was. No wonder Alan was so angry all the time, forced to carry around those feelings without fully understanding them, and without having anyone to talk to. Nick could empathise with that.

At the time, though, he was simply full of glee at the thought of having something to hit Alan with the next time he cornered him.

‘Hey, Nicky,’ said Dave as he buttoned his shirt. ‘Showers are free now. If you hurry along, one of us might join ya . . .’ He left it implied, and the majority of the neanderthals in the room guffawed gracelessly.

Nick blushed and turned away, taking out his towel and undressing very slowly while the others filed out of the changing room. When they were all gone, he finally removed his pants and got in the shower, opting for cold as the more efficient option for getting rid of the stiffness between his legs.

When he came back out, a text had arrived on his mobile. It was from Dave.

Sorry for acting like a dick. It seemed like the thing to say at the time…

Nick smiled. He wrote:

It’s all right. Got to keep up appearances, yeah?

Then he frowned and hit backspace, trying again.

They’re your friends, what can you do?

Send. The reply came almost at once.

You’re my friend, too.

Nick felt his stomach flutter when he read it. He pocketed his mobile and put on his jacket. It buzzed again.

My cousin’s going back to Manchester tomorrow, and my parents are going out of town for some business dinner thing. I’m not grounded anymore, so you wanna come over and play some video games?

Nick grinned widely. Finally! He replied quickly.

I’d love to!

At last it felt like his luck was changing.

* * *

Dave looked down at his mobile phone and smiled. Nick was coming to his house the very next day. Not sure why, he felt suddenly nervous. His mind flitted back to the moment in the corridor the previous week. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was Nick gay, or had he had some other reason for doing what he did? Just a whim? The kiss combined with the song and that awkward moment in the park made for a strong case for the former.

He had no idea how he felt about that. He had never realised how out of touch he was with his emotions before. Now he was second-guessing everything he’d ever felt. He had come to recognise that he had felt something when Nick kissed him, and while it had been overshadowed by the subsequent surprise at the time, it had not been disgust or anger.

So, what then? Attraction? The thought didn’t actually make him cringe. Would being attracted to a boy be so bad? Kissing a boy? Sleeping with one? He had no idea what boys did in bed together, but he found he could easily conjure up an idea, and he felt his cheeks flush a little at the thought. What would it feel like to hold a boy? Harder, firmer than a girl. And closer, no tits in the way. What would it be like to have a boyfriend? Less complicated, more straight forward?

Ideas and pictures flashed through his mind then, and he found that he was strangely comfortable with them.

He was reminded of the cliché of the little boy pulling the little girl’s pigtails because he liked her, and wondered if it was possible that all these years of fighting with Nick had simply been because he actually liked him and had no way of expressing it.

It seemed somehow plausible. All he knew was that he was looking forward to the following day. Perhaps their meeting would provide some answers.

* * *

Nick logged onto Messenger when he got home. Mel was online.

Nick: Hey, Mel. Guess what? I’m going over to D’s house tomorrow!

Mel: Really? That’s cool. :–)

Nick: I’m really excited. His parents are out, apparently. We’re gonna play video games and have pizza.

Mel: That’s great, Nick. Look, I have to go. Still visiting family, can’t really be on the computer too long. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow night, you can tell me how it went. :–)

She logged off. Nick felt his heart skip a beat as he leaned back in his seat. He was going to Dave’s house. He wondered what it would be like . . . But at the same time, he dreaded it. He would be alone with Dave, in Dave’s house, just the two of them, and what he wanted most of all was just to kiss him, to hold him and be with him, and he couldn’t.

Still, he closed his eyes and imagined it, like he had so many times before. Dave looking into his eyes, the way he’d done that night in the park. Dave, reaching out to touch his cheek, leaning in close, their lips touching for what felt like the first time. Tentatively at first, perhaps. Softly. Then fiercer, hungrier, Dave’s hands in his hair, Dave’s scent, the taste of his lips, the feel of his body, pressed tightly up against Nick’s own.

Nick’s breath caught in his throat as he undid his belt and stuck a hand down his pants. Dave’s arms around him, Dave’s hands touching him, Dave’s tongue in his mouth. Dave rutting against him . . .

He came with a gasp, and realised that tears were staining his cheeks. He felt suddenly dirty. What would Dave think of him if he knew that Nick had used him as fap fodder almost since he learned how to masturbate? He would be disgusted, Nick was sure of it. Angry and disgusted, and he would never want to speak to him again. Nick laughed bitterly.

He grabbed a wad of tissues from his desk drawer to clean away the cum. Then he sighed. Only one day to go.

* * *

Nick trotted up the road towards Dave’s house. It was unseasonably warm, but he could see clouds gathering above him. It looked like it might rain. Not exactly a rare occurrence at this time of year, or ever. It was four o’clock in the afternoon.

Dave’s street was a bit on the outskirts, with only farms and farmland beyond it. All the houses on this street were very posh (Nick passed the Langmann residence with distaste), and poshest among them was the one inhabited by Dave and his family. It was fairly old and late Victorian in style, though it had since been completely renovated, inside and out.

Nick had reached the hedgerow lining the large garden. He took off his headphones and turned off his iPod. Up ahead, he saw the gate to the front yard open, and Dave stepped out. He was about to call out when he saw the girl next to him. She was short and blond, and quite curvy, though far from fat. A taxi pulled up to the house, and Dave hugged the girl tightly. Then he kissed her.

Nick stopped dead in his tracks. ‘No . . .’ He had resigned himself to the idea that nothing may ever happen between Dave and himself, indeed that it probably wouldn’t, because Dave wasn’t gay. But seeing him kiss someone else—

Just then, they broke apart and Dave looked up and saw Nick. He waved.

Nick spun around and ran.

He ran as hard as he could, not looking back, not wanting to see Dave. Maybe Dave would think it hadn’t really been Nick he had seen? He ran until he reached a disused bus stop. Then he sat down on an old wooden bench with peeling blue paint, lungs burning with the exertion, hot tears staining his cheeks. He tried to brush them away, angry with himself. Being allowed the chance to get to know Dave was more than he could have ever hoped for, he had no right to be angry if Dave got a girlfriend.

It started to rain. Just as well, then no one would be able to see that he’d been crying.

He sat like that for a while, letting the cold rain wash away everything. Why had he run away like that? How would he explain to Dave what had happened? ‘I realised I’d left the kettle on.’ Sure, that would work . . . He scoffed through his tears.

‘I hate to break it to you, mate, but the buses stopped running here decades ago.’

Nick didn’t have to turn around. He could always recognise Dave’s tenor voice. Strong, like Dave himself, it had a kind tone to it now. He also didn’t need to see his face to know the look on it. Worry. Pity.

‘Why’d you run?’ asked Dave, sitting down next to him. Nick didn’t answer. What could he possibly say?

‘That was my cousin, Mellie,’ Dave continued conversationally. ‘She’s my best friend in the world. She lives in Manchester, though. She just came down for a visit.’

Nick continued to look away. Why was Dave explaining himself?

‘You like me, don’t you, Nick?’ asked Dave then.

The bluntness of the question startled Nick so much that he looked up to meet Dave’s eye in spite of himself.

‘I mean, obviously you do, or you wouldn’t have kissed me that time. I only kissed Mellie on the cheek, by the way. Guess maybe it was hard to tell?’

This is it, thought Nick miserably. This is where he calls me a fucking faggot and leaves and never talks to me again. He’s figured it out.

Dave continued. ‘I’ve been trying to make sense of it. The kiss, I mean. I wanted to talk about it, but . . . wouldn’t have known what to say. Alan always said you were gay.’ He paused. ‘’Course, he means it as an insult. Most people around here probably would. Bit backwards, this place.’ He fell silent, studying Nick’s face curiously.

Nick looked away again, confused. He didn’t quite understand what Dave was saying. When Dave didn’t speak again, he fidgeted uncomfortably on the bench. ‘I should probably go home,’ he mumbled and stood up.

Dave stood, too. Shook his head and uttered a short laugh. ‘You really are thick sometimes,’ he said. Then he took Nick’s hand.

Nick jumped at the touch, as though an electric charge had passed between them. Dave’s hand was warm and strong, and slightly bigger than his. Nick swallowed and turned his head to look at Dave. The other boy was smiling, and it was not a sarcastic smile, or a derisive one. It was filled with warmth.

‘Come on,’ said Dave, kindly. ‘Let’s go to my house.’