Jay Northcote / Coming Home

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COMING HOME

by

Jay Northcote

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Copyright

Coming Home © 2013 Jay Northcote

First edition: November 2013

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:

This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including

electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business

establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever

without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles

and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some and is intended for a mature, adult

audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content and adult situations.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I could never write anything without the support I have from some amazing friends.

Thank you to Becky, Meg and Jen for cheerleading and handholding, Nic for pre-reading,

Michela for editing, and Stacy for proof-reading.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

About the Author

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~Chapter One~

Jago’s bedroom looked so much bigger than he remembered.

He dumped his rucksack on the floor and stood, circling slowly around as he took it in. It

was all familiar; nothing had changed while he’d been away, yet it felt so strange being back

after three months at Uni. The large space with its sloping, beamed ceiling was so different from

the cramped, modern cube of his tiny student room back in Plymouth.

Jago grinned. It was good to be home.

“When’s Derrick arriving?” Jago asked his parents over dinner. Derrick, Jago’s older brother,

was in his third year studying medicine in London, but he always made it home for Christmas.

“Not till the twenty-third,” his mum replied. “He’s got a placement to finish.”

They ate in silence for a little while. The soup, one of his dad’s random organic veg

specials, was delicious, thick and slightly spicy. And the crusty homemade bread was better than

anything Jago had tasted in what felt like forever.

“Have you got any plans for the week? Catching up with friends?” Jago’s mum smiled at

him. “I thought you’d be keen to see Will. You were inseparable over the summer.”

Jago shrugged noncommittally, lowering his head to avoid his mum’s too-knowing gaze.

A strand of wavy, sand-coloured hair fell forward over his face and he tucked it behind his ear.

“Probably.” He reached for more bread, taking a bite so that he had an excuse not to elaborate.

His mum let the subject drop, and Jago was relieved when his dad started talking about

the family business. “I need to make a few repairs to some of the older yurts while they’re

empty. Get them ready for the busy season. I was hoping you might be able to help out while

you’re home?”

“Sure.” Jago nodded.

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His parents hired out yurts to holidaymakers looking for something a little different from

a hotel. The circular-framed, sturdy tents were all the rage with people who wanted to get back to

nature, but still expected a little luxury. His family had got into the business at the right time,

when glamping—as oppose to camping—was the new trendy way for city folk to spend their

holiday time. Jago’s parents had fields that were open to general campers too, but the yurts were

what brought in the majority of their income.

Once dinner was over, Jago went back up to his bedroom to unpack. When he was done, he lay

on his bed and got out his phone. Unable to resist the temptation, he opened his photos and

scrolled through to the ones of Will that he’d saved from the summer. Will smiling, goofing

around, raising a pint glass in a pub, sticking two fingers up at the camera with a surfboard under

one arm, laden down with climbing gear at the bottom of a sea cliff. Jago got to his favourite

photo of Will, the one he’d taken after their first night together. Will grinned at the camera, his

dark hair wet from the sea and dripping into his brown eyes. The warmth in those eyes was all

for Jago.

He loved Will’s eyes, the dark brown was so compelling and exotic. When he’d

commented on them, Will had laughed, saying brown was boring. “Yours are like the sea.” He’d

leaned in close to look carefully, making Jago’s breath hitch. “They’re like that dark slate grey

that the ocean turns on a cloudy day.” Jago had blushed, embarrassed at the attention, and turned

away, changing the subject.

Jago stared at the familiar features on the screen: the dark eyes, the strong nose, the

square jaw that was often scratchy with stubble. He was suddenly struck by a vivid sense

memory of the taste of sea-salt on Will’s skin, and the scent of smoke from the bonfire as they’d

kissed and rutted together in the close heat of their tent that night on the beach. Longing hit Jago

like a punch in the gut. He wondered whether Will still thought about him like that, or whether

subsequent partners had eclipsed Will’s memories of their time together.

When they’d gone off to Uni it had been Will’s idea to break things off. He’d insisted it

was better that way and that a long distance relationship would be too hard. Jago was devastated

at the time, but had done his best to hide it from Will. They’d never really talked about their

feelings for each other and when Will said he wanted to end it, Jago hadn’t wanted to be clingy

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and desperate. He’d been optimistic that moving away and meeting new people would make it

easy to get over Will but it hadn’t turned out that way. He’d experimented with a couple of other

guys. He’d even dated one for a few weeks, but none of them had been able to eclipse Will in

Jago’s affections. Jago’s heart lurched as he looked at Will’s smiling face, and he realised that

three months apart hadn’t changed his feelings for Will in the slightest. He was still in love with

him.

Jago opened up a new text message and his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit his

lip and frowned. But he chickened out of sending anything directly to Will. Instead, he went to

Facebook and posted a general status.

Home for Christmas, anyone fancy meeting up?

The trouble with living in Cornwall, in the middle of bloody nowhere, was that you had to rely

on driving whenever you wanted to go out. Until Jago could drive himself, he’d been dependent

on his parents ferrying him around to meet up with his friends. Jago remembered the heady

liberation when he’d finally passed his driving test, halfway through his time at Sixth Form

College.

It was weird driving now after three months of walking and cycling everywhere in

Plymouth. The gears and pedals in his parents’ battered old VW felt unfamiliar, but as Jago

pulled out of their gate and into the narrow country lane, it started to feel more natural. He put

his headlights on full beam so that anyone approaching in the opposite direction would see him

coming. There wasn’t room for two cars on this first stretch of road, but there were passing

places every hundred yards or so. In the summer months, when Cornwall was awash with

tourists, driving on the lanes was a nightmare, but at this time of year it was locals only. Jago

didn’t meet any other cars until he turned out onto the larger road that led to the pub where he

and his mates had arranged to meet.

Will’s car—well, technically his mum’s car—was already in the pub car park when Jago

pulled in. He took the space beside it, and sat there for a moment after switching off the engine.

Jago’s heart thumped as he tried to calm himself, but he felt like an idiot sitting there on his own

in the dark so he steeled himself and opened the car door.

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As he climbed out into the chill night air, Jago heard the sound of the waves breaking on

the beach over the road, and could smell the seaweedy-salt on the air. He took a deep breath,

relishing the familiar scent, taking comfort from it.

The pub was bright and noisy, crowded with people, and the warmth hit Jago like a wave as he

opened the door.

“Hey! JCB, how are you doing?” Jago lifted his head to see familiar faces grinning and

hands waving at him from the bar.

JCB was one of the better nicknames that Jago had put up with at school and college,

considering his parents had seen fit to land him with the ridiculous mouthful of Jago Carney-

Bower. His American mother was the Bower, and his dad, who’d been born and bred in

Cornwall, was the Carney. As if having a double-barrelled surname wasn’t enough, his mum had

insisted on traditional Cornish first names for Jago and his brother, Derrick.

Jago wove his way through the throng to reach his mates from college. There was a big

group of them there already, seven or eight at least by the look of things. Tom, who’d called him

over, clapped Jago on the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “Good to see you, mate, how’s it

going?”

“Good, thanks.” Jago worked his way through the group, fielding back-slapping hugs

from the boys and kisses on the cheek from the girls.

He reached Will last.

Will’s dark eyes were fixed on Jago, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled in

greeting. Jago smiled back, feeling his cheeks heating and cursing his fair skin that would be

giving him away. But their friends all knew that he and Will had had a summer fling, so it wasn’t

like his feelings for Will were a total secret.

“Hey.” Will put his arms out and Jago went into them, wrapping Will in a firm hug. God.

Everything about him was so familiar: his strength, his scent, the feel of his powerful body

against Jago’s. “It’s good to see you.” Will’s words were warm and secret, spoken quietly into

Jago’s ear before Jago reluctantly pulled away and put some space between them.

Once they’d all bought drinks, their group managed to find a couple of free tables in the

back bar and collected enough seats for everyone. Jago ended up taking the seat next to Will, but

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he had no idea where to begin with making conversation. They’d kept in touch a little while they

were away, but it had mostly been public contact through Facebook. It had seemed easier to keep

it that way—a clean break, less messy. But before their relationship had become sexual, they’d

been best friends for nearly two years. Jago had always known it would be impossible to go back

to that afterwards, but at the time it had felt like a sacrifice worth making for the three months of

intensity they’d shared. However now, sitting next to Will in a crowded bar, he felt the distance

between them like a barrier that couldn’t be crossed. Will was right there, close enough to touch,

but Jago missed him painfully.

Jago let the conversations around the table drift over him, listening in but contributing

little. The girls were swapping stories of boys they were dating. Katrina had a boyfriend who

lived all the way up in Edinburgh. “I wanted to travel up there for New Year’s,” she was saying.

“But I just can’t afford the fare.” The others made noises of sympathy.

“What about you, Jago? Have you got a boyfriend at the moment?” Mel was sitting

opposite Jago and he looked up to see her smiling at him. She’d been a friend since primary

school, and was the first person that Jago had come out to.

Jago shook his head, very aware that Will had turned to look at him. He schooled his

features carefully as he replied. “A few dates, nothing that turned into anything.” He didn’t want

Will to think he’d spent the whole term pining. He really hadn’t. He’d gone out of his way to try

and meet new people.

“How about you, Will? Are you seeing anyone?” Mel’s voice was a little too casual, and

although she was addressing Will, her eyes were still on Jago. He glared at her, but she just

smiled sweetly and turned to Will.

Will shrugged. “Not really.” He didn’t elaborate, and Jago hated himself for wanting to

know more.

As the evening passed, Jago found himself cursing the fact he had to drive home later.

The one pint he’d allowed himself didn’t give him enough of a buzz to relax. He wanted to get to

that point of mild intoxication where he could float happily, cushioned from reality. But, as it

was, he remained constantly, achingly aware of Will next to him. His gaze kept snagging on

Will’s strong fingers where they curved around his glass. They were pale olive now instead of

the dark tan Jago remembered from the summer. In his mind’s eye Jago could see Will’s hands,

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dark against the pale skin of his thighs as Will spread him open, held him down as he fucked him

slow and deep.

“Sorry, what?” Jago realised Will was speaking to him and he flushed hot, shoving his

memories away and locking them back up tightly.

“What are the other people in your flat like? Do you get on with them?”

Small talk. Jago thought he could manage that. He certainly had enough anecdotes about

his flatmates. He’d ended up sharing with some quirky characters who were fun to live with,

even if their hygiene in the kitchen left rather a lot to be desired.

Will laughed out loud when Jago told him about a food fight that had resulted in them

getting into trouble with one of the senior residents.

“That’s crazy, so what do they do? Did they fine you?”

“No.” Jago shrugged. “He just told us that it had to be spotless by ten o’clock the

following morning if we didn’t want them to report us to the warden. We stayed up all night

scraping baked beans off the walls. It was a lot less amusing by three in the morning when our

hangovers kicked in.”

“Hey.” Will nudged him. “Remember that epic food fight we had that time we all went

camping down at the beach near Caerhays?” His face lit up with amusement as Jago grimaced.

“That was disgusting. Thank God we could wash it off in the sea, my hair was caked with

clotted cream.”

“And Tom just picked up that huge handful of it and rubbed it into your face.” Will

chuckled. “You were a mess.”

“He got it in my eyes! If it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have been able to find the

bloody sea to wash it out.”

Will had led Jago down to the water as they’d both giggled hopelessly. They’d plunged

into the waves fully clothed and swam until they were clean again.

“That was a fun weekend.” Jago grinned.

“It really was.” Will smiled back. “We had a lot of good times that summer.”

They stared at each other for a moment until the silence became awkward.

Jago cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “So how about you? What’s life like in

Exeter?”

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“It’s good. I like my course and the other people doing Sport and Health are mostly pretty

cool.”

“And your flatmates?”

“Well, I live on a corridor with eight other people and they’re a bit of a mixed bag. But as

my hall is catered we don’t have to share a kitchen or anything, so they’re fairly easy to avoid if

I’m not in the mood to be sociable.”

“I can’t imagine that happens often,” Jago teased. Will wasn’t exactly the shy retiring

type. It was one of the things that had drawn him to Will when they’d met in Sixth Form

College. His warmth and generous affection were very different from Jago’s more reserved

nature. He’d flourished under Will’s attention, like a plant in sunlight.

They shared more stories of their exploits at their respective universities for a while, and

the more they talked, the more Jago remembered how much he loved Will’s company. He

relaxed and found he was enjoying himself as the evening progressed. But Jago didn’t stop

wanting, and once or twice he caught Will looking at him in a way that made him think maybe

he wasn’t the only one feeling that pull of attraction and regret for what they’d once had.

At the end of the evening, they all spilled out into the night. A couple of them lived close enough

to walk home but the rest were driving, one or two sharing lifts.

“Who’s up for a drink on Christmas Eve at The Anchor in St Austell?” Tom was asking.

“There’s quite a few of us going.”

There were various replies in the affirmative.

“I’m not sure,” Jago replied. “I think my parents are going to a party, so they’ll be using

the car.”

“I can give you a lift if you want?” Will offered.

“Okay, thanks.” Jago turned to smile at him, but Will’s expression was obscured by the

darkness. Jago could just see the glitter of the pub’s strings of Christmas lights reflected in his

eyes.

They all said their goodbyes, exchanging friendly hugs. When Jago felt Will’s arms

around him again it felt like coming home. “Night Jago,” Will murmured, and the warm brush of

his breath on Jago’s neck made Jago’s heart surge.

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He reluctantly stepped back as Will’s arms dropped away from him. “Good night, Will.”

The others had gone now, leaving them alone in the half-darkness of the car park. They

were still staring at each other, frozen in time as neither made a move to leave, and for a wild

moment Jago wondered what would happen if he went along with what his instincts were

screaming out for him to do. He imagined stepping forward into Will’s space and kissing him,

tasting his lips and feeling the stubble on Will’s jaw under his fingertips. But Jago’s courage

failed him. They’d agreed on a clean break, and Jago didn’t want to fuck up their renewed

friendship by trying something and then being rejected.

The pub doors opened and a few people stumbled out, talking and laughing loudly,

shattering the silence. Jago finally tore himself away. He turned away from Will and walked

around to get in the driver’s door of his car.

“Text me?” Will called across just as Jago was opening his car door. Hope flared in

Jago’s chest. “About the lift on Christmas Eve, yeah?”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Will do,” Jago replied, disappointment lancing through him. “See you

soon.”

Their car doors thudded shut and engines and headlamps went on. Jago let Will pull out

first, and he followed his tail lights up the steep road that led inland from the pub. When they

reached the first junction, they went their separate ways.

Later, back at home, Jago was just dozing off when his phone buzzed with a text. He fumbled for

it in the darkness, nearly knocking it off his nightstand, then squinted at the too-bright screen.

I felt weird seeing you tonight and us not being together anymore.

Jago stared at the message, re-reading it and trying to work out what Will meant by it.

Was there more behind the words than their superficial meaning? He typed out several versions

of a reply before deleting most of it and sticking with just three words that deliberately didn’t

give much away.

Yeah, same here.

He waited, his heart thumping uncomfortably, hoping that Will would reply. A couple of

minutes crawled by and Jago wondered whether Will had fallen asleep, or whether he was typing

and deleting things and cursing, just like Jago had done. Finally his phone buzzed again.

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Glad it wasn’t just me who found it weird :-) I’ll c u on xmas eve. Good night.

Good night, Jago replied, then set his phone aside.

Fuck. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep now. Will had lit the touch

paper and hope was burning hot and bright. Jago tamped it down, afraid of disappointment, and

switched on his bedside lamp. Reading was always a good distraction for Jago, so he pulled out

the book he was currently in the middle of, and lost himself in it till sleep finally overtook him.

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~Chapter Two~

On Christmas Eve, Will picked Jago up just before eight. Derrick had managed to sort out a lift

for the evening, and was already out with some of his old friends from school. Jago’s parents

were getting ready to go out too, but his mum came down to open the door and greet Will,

hugging him warmly.

“Lovely to see you Will. Now you boys take care, and watch out for idiot drunk drivers.”

“You too.” Jago kissed her cheek, then reached for his coat and scarf. “Don’t let Dad

drink too much. He’s got a turkey to cook in the morning.” Jago’s dad was always in charge of

Christmas dinner, he had it down to a fine art after years of practice.

Jago turned to Will, looking at him properly at last. “Hi, thanks for coming to get me.”

“No problem.” Will smiled.

He looked good, Jago thought. His dark hair flopped over his forehead and his brown

eyes were warm as he smiled at Jago. Jago smiled back briefly then looked down, fiddling with

the buttons on his coat, afraid of giving himself away.

It was cold outside, the air sharp with the promise of frost later. But inside Will’s car it

was warm, so Jago unwound his scarf and unbuttoned his jacket as they drove.

The tension between them was back, and Jago felt the discomfort of it crawling over his

skin as he cast around for something to talk about.

Will beat him to it.

“So is it just the usual quiet Christmas at your place then?” he asked, keeping his eyes on

the road as he navigated a bend in the narrow lane.

“Yeah, just the four of us.”

“Lucky you, it will be mayhem at mine.”

Unlike Jago, Will had grandparents and aunts and uncles all local to him.

“Is your mum hosting this year then?” Jago chuckled. “Good luck.”

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“Yeah. I’ll have to play Mario Kart all day with the cousins and then put up with the

indignity of being beaten by the little sods. Jason’s insanely good at it. I think Auntie Sue needs

to limit his screen time and send him to play outdoors a bit more often. Nobody gets that good at

Mario Kart without a misspent youth.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“I’m not as bad as Ben. And the sibling rivalry between those two is extreme, so not only

will I get beaten, I’ll also have to deal with him having tantrums when Jason knocks him off the

track.”

Jago laughed. “I’ve never been more grateful for my lack of local cousins.”

“I bet.” But when Jago glanced sideways he saw Will was smiling. “They’re not so bad

really. There’s never a dull moment at least.”

Jago knew that for all Will’s complaining he was fond of them. He was a big softie at

heart.

The party was already in full swing at the pub when they arrived. They found their friends in the

back room that had been cleared for dancing. There was loud disco music playing and coloured

lights flashed hectically, playing over the faces of the people as they moved in time with the

beat.

Will leaned in close, his hand heavy on Jago’s shoulder. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, can you get me a pint of Tribute?”

“Sure.” Will waved away Jago’s offer of cash. “You can buy me a coke later.” He

grinned.

An hour and a couple of beers later, Jago was feeling buzzed and full of Christmas cheer.

He’d been dragged onto the dance floor by Mel and was grinding along to Rihanna with her. He

was aware of Will’s gaze on him as he moved with the music, giggling with Mel as their legs

tangled.

Will was dancing too, swaying nearby with some girl Jago vaguely recognised from

college. Jago deliberately exaggerated the movement of his hips, enjoying the attention, wanting

Will to keep looking.

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Various people were wandering around with sprigs of mistletoe, getting kisses from

anyone they could persuade to grant them one. Tom came over wearing a baseball cap with a

piece pinned to the front.

“You’re such a tart,” Mel shouted over the music. But she kissed him anyway, reeling

him in by his shirt collar and using her tongue before pulling away and leaving Tom looking

glazed. She snatched the cap off his head and plonked it on Jago’s head, then kissed him too, just

a quick press of her lips.

“I’m not the one you want to kiss though, am I?” She grinned, wickedly. She spun him

around and shot out her arm to grab Will by the sleeve. “Look after Jago while I go to the toilet.”

She turned and went, pushing her way through the crowd and leaving Jago and Will to

stare at each other, awkward and frozen amid the dancers.

Will’s gaze moved up and took in the mistletoe, dangling idiotically from the front of the

cap. Jago’s cheeks flamed but he waited, hoping, and when Will leaned in close his heart raced.

He kissed the corner of Jago’s mouth, a fleeting brush of lips and scratch of stubble, and just that

small touch was enough to turn Jago’s knees to water. His hands came up to clutch at Will’s

shoulders and he wasn’t sure whether he was trying to push him away or pull him closer. But

then Will stepped back and Jago’s hands fell away and his stomach dropped in disappointment.

“Happy Christmas, Jago.” A small smile twisted Will’s lips.

“Yeah, you too.”

Jago couldn’t remember feeling less fucking happy. Will so clearly wasn’t interested in

being more than friends anymore. If he was going to lay his cards on the table he wouldn’t have

a better opportunity than the one he’d just been given. Jago felt mortifying tears forming, making

his eyes hot and itchy as he blinked them back. He pushed past Will, muttering something about

getting water, and got out of there as fast as he could.

He passed the toilets, not wanting to run into anyone he knew, and found the door that led

out to the back garden. It was thankfully deserted. Jago walked to the far end of the garden, away

from the lights of the pub, and sat down at one of the wooden picnic tables. He flopped forward,

resting his head on his arms, disappointment settling like a cold stone in his stomach.

The door banged and Jago cursed under his breath. He just wanted some peace to get his

shit together. Was it too much to bloody ask to be left alone for five minutes? If he’d been

driving he’d probably have just left, but of course he was reliant on Will for his lift home.

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Hopefully it was just someone coming out for a smoke, but the soft tread of approaching

footsteps made him tense.

“Jago? Is that you?” Will’s voice made Jago lift his head, feeling relieved that he’d

managed to hold back the tears that had threatened.

“Yeah.” His voice came out a little gruff. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I

was just a bit hot from dancing.”

Will sat down beside him, straddling the bench seat so that he was turned towards Jago.

“Nice hat.”

Jago had forgotten he was still wearing it. “Fuck.” Jago pulled the stupid thing off his

head and put it on the table. “Sorry about before, Mel is such a stirrer.” He couldn’t bring

himself to look at Will.

Will shuffled closer and put his hand on Jago’s thigh. The warmth of his hand seeped

through the denim and Jago’s muscles tensed at his touch. “Jago.” His name on Will’s lips made

Jago finally turn his head, and the husky tone of his voice made Jago’s breath catch. It was too

dark to see Will’s expression clearly, but his hand gripped Jago’s leg and squeezed.

“I wanted to kiss you properly,” Will admitted. “But I didn’t want our first kiss in three

months to be in front of an audience. Plus, I don’t think St Austell is ready for the sort of kiss I

want to give you.” There was a pause, and Jago realised that Will was waiting for some sort of

permission.

Words failed him utterly, so Jago relied on actions instead. He turned, with a kind of

embarrassing, strangled whimper sound, took Will’s face in both hands and crushed their lips

together. What he lacked in finesse he made up for in enthusiasm, opening his lips for Will as he

turned his body, twisting to face him. He tried to lift his leg to turn and straddle the seat, but

bashed his knee on the underside of the table and broke the kiss to curse as pain bloomed.

“Bollocks, ow!”

Will burst out laughing, but once Jago finally managed to rearrange himself he shut Will

up with more kisses. Then Will grabbed Jago’s hips and hitched him closer still—so that he was

practically in Will’s lap—and Jago forgot all about the pain in his knee. Everything was hot,

hungry kisses, with hands clutching hair and seeking skin. Will’s hands were cold as they slid up

the back of Jago’s shirt and he shivered, gasping and jerking his upper body away from the

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touch. The movement pressed his hardening cock into Will’s and they both groaned at the

sensation, rocking together and kissing again, harder and more desperately.

Will’s hands were tangled in Jago’s messy curls and he pulled, making Jago bare his

throat as Will sucked a line of biting kisses down to where his T-shirt covered his collarbones.

“Fuck, Jago. I missed this. I missed you,” Will muttered between kisses. “I want you… want to

get naked with you.”

Jago chuckled breathlessly. “Can’t do that here. St Austell definitely isn’t ready for that.

And besides, it’s fucking freezing out here.” He grabbed Will’s face and lifted it up so he could

kiss his lips again, briefly this time. “Come back to mine. My parents won’t be back till after

midnight.” Jago climbed out of Will’s lap and offered him a hand up, then he grinned. “Get your

coat, you’ve pulled.”

The drive back was an exercise in delayed gratification.

They couldn’t stop touching each other. Jago put his hand on Will’s thigh. He moved it

up to trace the hard line of Will’s erection with his fingertips until Will slapped his hand away,

laughing and squirming in his seat. “I can’t drive with your hand on my cock, Jago. I’ll crash the

fucking car.”

So Jago put his hand on his own cock instead, rubbing himself through his jeans, with

Will helping him whenever he didn’t need a hand for the gears.

Will parked outside Jago’s house and they hurried to the door. Will’s hands on Jago’s

hips and his breath, warm on the back of his neck didn’t help Jago’s accuracy as he struggled to

fit his key into the lock. “Stop it.” He pushed his arse back against Will’s erection. “You’re

distracting me.”

“I’m just getting my own back after you doing the same to me while I was driving.”

“Do you want your cock sucked or not?” Jago retorted. “Because I’m not doing it on the

sodding doorstep.”

Will grabbed the keys out of Jago’s hand and opened the door himself. “There.”

They stumbled in, kissing again, but soon realised they were going to get naked faster if

they let each other go for a minute. Will led the way to Jago’s room and Jago followed. He

shrugged out of his coat as he went and unwound his scarf from around his neck.

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Jago locked the door behind them, even though they probably had at least two hours

before anyone else would get home. When he turned back, Will had already stripped down to his

jeans and was pulling his T-shirt over his head. The beautiful defined muscle in his torso flexed

as he raised his arms and the dark hair in his armpits stood out starkly against his winter-pale

skin. Jago’s gaze drifted down and locked on the line of hair under Will’s navel that disappeared

into his jeans.

“Hurry up.” Will smirked. He unfastened his jeans and his cock sprang free as he slid

them down along with his underwear in one swift movement. He moved to lie on Jago’s bed and

took his erection in his hand, tugging lazily as he waited.

“Fuck,” Jago muttered, pulling frantically at his clothes. He unzipped and then nearly

tripped over once he got his trousers round his ankles, realising too late that he still had his shoes

on. He glared at Will who was pissing himself laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Very funny.” He hobbled

over to the bed and sat on the edge while he sorted himself out. Will stroked a warm hand down

the bumps of Jago’s spine as he arched forward to free his feet from his jeans. Skinny jeans were

such fucking cockblockers.

“These too.” Will pinged the elastic of Jago’s underwear and watched hungrily as Jago

stood and turned to face Will as he pushed his briefs down his thighs. His cock was so hard it

was nearly pointing at the ceiling. Will wrapped his fingers around it and pulled gently, guiding

Jago with his other hand on his hip. “Come here.”

He encouraged Jago to kneel over him, top to tail. Jago’s arse was in the air and Will’s

cock jerked by his face, clearly impatient for attention. Will drew Jago’s cock into his mouth

immediately and sucked him, gently at first. Jago nuzzled at Will’s balls and then licked up his

shaft to draw him inside. The musky scent of Will was so familiar. It was like the last three

months just melted away as Jago lost himself in the blissful sensations: the slick heat of Will’s

mouth, the flavour of Will on his tongue, the soft, broken sounds that Jago drew out of him as he

sucked harder and faster. They drove each other closer and closer. Will started to hitch his hips

and his moans got higher-pitched, always a sign that he was near to coming. That knowledge

made Jago’s balls draw up, delicious tension curling tight and building fast. Will pulled off,

replacing his mouth with the tight grip of a fist as he choked out, “Fuck, Jago. I’m gonna come.”

Jago took Will deep, feeling the swell and pulse against his tongue as Will came with a

groan. Jago swallowed and kept sucking until Will’s sounds quietened.

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“God,” he gasped, voice hoarse. “That was amazing; your turn now.” Will took Jago’s

cock in his mouth again and got back to work. Jago let Will’s softening prick slip from between

his lips and he nosed and nuzzled at Will’s balls as he barrelled towards his own release. Will’s

fingers were stroking back over Jago’s taint, slipping into the crack of his arse to circle his hole.

Jago pushed back, wanting to be penetrated.

“Fuck, Will… I’m close,” he choked out.

Will breached him with a finger, curling and stroking just right and Jago was done for.

He came with a gasp, hips jerking as he fought the urge to fuck down into Will’s mouth. “Oh

God, yeah, fuck.” His legs started to wobble as Will pulled off and used his hand to work the last

drops from the tip of Jago’s cock, licking at his sensitive cockhead and making Jago gasp and

twitch.

Jago rolled off Will and collapsed onto his side. He pressed a kiss against the smooth skin

of Will’s hip. “Thanks.”

Will chuckled. “You’re welcome. Now are you gonna come up here and kiss me or am I

going to have to come down to you?”

“I don’t think I can move,” Jago said seriously. “You broke me.”

So they ended up with their heads at the foot of Jago’s narrow bed. They wrapped their

arms around each other and lost themselves in kisses. Jago remembered how tactile Will had

always been. He never rolled away after sex; he demanded contact, skin to skin, mouth to mouth.

Jago grinned against Will’s lips at the thought, and Will pulled back, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Nothing.” Jago hid his face in Will’s neck, breathing him in and hiding the goofy smile

that stretched across his features. “I’d just forgotten what a softie you are.”

“Are you complaining?”

Jago shook his head and sought out Will’s lips again.

When they started to get cold, they rearranged themselves the right way up in the bed so

they could get under the covers. More kissing led to lazy grinding as they got hard again, and

Will had pulled Jago on top of him and was circling Jago’s hole with a spit-wet finger.

“God, Jago,” Will murmured, hot in his ear. “I wish I could fuck you.”

“You can.” Jago rocked against him.

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“But I have to go.” Will sighed regretfully. He craned his neck to look at the clock. “It’s

nearly midnight now and my parents will worry if I’m not back soon.”

“Fuck. I didn’t realise it was that late. My mum and dad will be home soon too.” It

wasn’t that Jago’s parents would mind Will being there, but he didn’t want to deal with the

knowing looks from his mum the next day. “I wish you could stay.”

“Me too.” Will kissed his lips again, lightly, and pulled away to get out of bed. “But my

mum really would freak out if I wasn’t there on Christmas morning. It’s sacred family time. I’m

sorry.”

“Ah, it’s okay.” Jago rallied, trying to sound less clingy and more matter of fact. This was

probably just a hook up, he reminded himself. They were supposed to just be friends now—

friends who sucked each other’s dicks apparently—and they were both going back to live in

different cities again in a couple of weeks. The most this could ever be was another holiday

romance. The realisation sent a jolt of disappointment through Jago’s gut.

He wanted to ask Will what this was for him, whether it meant anything, or whether it

was just a convenient fling with an ex. But he was afraid of what the answer might be. So instead

he watched in silence, melancholy settling in his belly, as Will retrieved his scattered clothes and

dressed hastily. Jago got up too and pulled on some sweatpants, shivering as the cool air hit his

skin after the warmth of his bed and Will’s body. He put his T-shirt back on and picked up a

hoodie that was slung over the back of his chair.

“Are you going to Meva for New Year’s?” Will asked as they made their way downstairs.

“I suppose so.” Jago hadn’t made plans yet, but he’d assumed he would. Mevagissey was

the place to be in the area for New Year’s Eve. Everyone wore fancy dress and crawled around

the few pubs in the tiny seaside town. It was crazy and lots of fun. “Derrick probably will be too,

so we can fight over who gets to drive and who gets to drink.”

“You can stay at mine if you want?” Will offered.

They were just inside the front door now, and he turned to face Jago as he spoke. His

voice was casual but a muscle flickered in his jaw.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Jago wondered whether Will meant he’d get a sleeping bag on the bedroom floor, or

whether Will had something more intimate in mind. He hoped it was the latter.

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Will looked at his watch. “Hey, it’s gone midnight.” He dropped his hand and stepped

close, putting his hands on Jago’s hips. “Happy Christmas, Jago.” He dipped his head, leaned

down from his two extra inches of height, and gave Jago a lingering kiss. When he pulled away

his eyes were even darker than usual.

“Happy Christmas,” Jago replied, his gaze dropping to Will’s plump lips, shiny and wet

from being kissed. The deep pink of them was the exact shade of the tip of Will’s cock when he

was hard.

Jago stood on the doorstep and watched as Will drove away, waiting until the sound of

the engine had vanished in the distance and his bare feet were aching from the cold. He sighed,

huffing out his confusion and longing in a cloud that hung in the frosty air before dissipating

slowly.

Christmas passed uneventfully with all the same rituals and traditions as every other year. But

Jago felt oddly detached from the celebrations and his mind drifted to Will in every quiet

moment. He did his best to be sociable and focus on his family, but he knew his mum had

noticed his mood, because every now and again he’d catch her watching him with a worried dent

between her eyebrows.

He kept his phone on him at all times, pulling it out occasionally to stare at the stubbornly

blank screen, hating himself for being so needy. He imagined Will busy with his extended

family. It was probably chaos at his house today.

In the lull after Christmas lunch had been cooked and eaten, Jago collapsed into an

armchair and gave up the fight while his dad turned the telly on for the Queen’s speech. He got

out his phone and typed, clicking send before he could think better of it.

Death by turkey. How’s ur day going?

He tried to focus on the TV while he waited to see if Will would reply. His palms were

sweating and his phone was slippery in the grip of his hand. The buzz of it made his heart leap.

Too full to move, smallest cousin is climbing me like a tree and bouncing. Take me away

from all this.

Jago let out a snort of laughter, then blushed as his mum and brother turned to look at

him.

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“Take your sexting upstairs, Jago.” Derrick smirked at him.

Jago replied with judicious use of his middle finger. “Jago,” his mum said in mild

reprimand.

Ignoring them both, Jago typed his reply.

Can’t sorry, had too much wine at lunch to be your knight in shining VW.

Shame, Will replied.

During the days between Christmas and New Year, Jago exchanged the odd light-hearted text

with Will, but nothing was said about their relationship—such as it was. Jago tried to put it out of

his mind as much as possible, and he mostly managed to convince himself that Christmas Eve

had just been a one-off.

Most of his mates were still busy with family stuff, and Jago’s dad wanted help with the

maintenance work that was needed on the yurts over the winter season, so Jago and Derrick

worked with him during the mornings. In the afternoons, Jago took off alone and spent his time

rediscovering the natural beauty around his home. Living in Plymouth, he’d missed the peace

and the solitude that could be found so easily here.

On the day before New Year’s Eve, Jago drove to Vault Beach. He parked and walked

down the steep cliff path to the long stretch of sand at the base of the cliff. Never busy, because

of the long walk down, today the beach was completely deserted.

The sky was heavy with grey cloud, turning the sea that dark slate colour that Will had

used to describe Jago’s eyes. Jago felt a sharp twinge of longing at the memory. The sea rolled

in, breaking on the sand with a dull, repetitive roar. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their bleak cries

piercing through the sound of the waves.

Jago wandered aimlessly, lost in the desolate beauty of the place. He found the traces of a

bonfire from a summer beach party and sat on a rock staring at the blackened remains of

driftwood.

He wondered if it was the same fire where he’d sat with Will beside him in the warmth of

a distant summer evening, watching the embers glow and flicker as the smoke drifted on a gentle

breeze. He’d been so full of nervous excitement that night, knowing they were poised on that

delicious knife edge where friendship tips into something more. They’d gone skinny dipping and

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hadn’t bothered to get dressed afterwards. They’d dried off by the fire, then wrapped blankets

around themselves until the chill of evening had driven them into the tiny tent. Naked, shivering

and giggling from the rum they’d been drinking, Jago had pulled Will down on top of him in the

darkness and kissed him for the first time.

Jago’s chest ached and he lifted his head, focusing on the dip and rise of the waves and

the rhythmic crash of the surf. The rolling, endless cycle of the ocean brought Jago a strange

kind of comfort. It offered perspective in the same way that the night sky did when he gazed at

the stars sometimes, and felt his worries fade away to insignificance amid the vastness of the

universe.

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~Chapter Three~

Do u still want to stay tonight?

Will’s text arrived while Jago was rifling through some bags of old clothes, looking for

suitable additions to his cowboy costume. He’d dug out his dad’s old cowboy boots—relics from

the late eighties when apparently they were fashionable—and had found a novelty cowboy hat in

with the dressing up clothes that his family had collected over the years. His usual jeans would

do, so Jago just needed a shirt and maybe a waistcoat.

Yes please. Jago replied, and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

He pulled a crumpled pale denim shirt out of the bag and a red bandana that he could tie

around his neck. That would do nicely.

His phone buzzed again. Got ur costume sorted yet?

Just about. Cowboy this year. You?

Pirate. I’m shit with costumes, but I’ve got a parrot and an eyepatch so I think I’m good.

Jago grinned, remembering the fuss that Will had made last year about having to dress up

for New Year’s Eve.

What time shall I come over?

Half sevenish?

Okay, see you later

“Jesus Christ, Derrick. Really?” Jago raised his eyebrows at his brother as he came downstairs,

ready to leave.

In what had to be the grossest costume ever, Derrick had liberated a hospital gown and a

catheter bag from somewhere. He’d made his hair white with talcum powder and drawn lines on

his face with eyeliner. The icing on the cake of bad taste was the catheterised sausage and the

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apple juice in the catheter bag. Bare, hairy legs stuck out beneath the gown and an ugly pair of

checked slippers completed the look.

“I’m glad to see you’re putting NHS resources to good use,” their dad commented dryly

as he came out of the kitchen with his camera.

He made them stand side by side and snapped a few shots.

Their mum emerged too and covered her mouth with her hand as she took in Derrick’s

costume. “Oh my.” She shook her head. “That’s quite horrible.”

Derrick had a place to stay in Mevagissey too, so Jago dropped him off at his mate’s house and

went on to Will’s alone.

“Hi Jago.” Will’s mum greeted him with an affectionate hug. Jago had often stayed there

during the summer. Although they hadn’t told their families that they were together, Jago had

always got the feeling that Will’s parents had worked it out, just as his own had.

“Hi, Mrs. Treseder.”

“Mary, please. How many times!” She stepped back and surveyed his costume, smiling.

“You make a good cowboy. Will’s up in his room, go on up if you want.”

“Thanks.”

Jago lifted the bag that he’d put down by his feet and made his way upstairs. He tapped

lightly on Will’s door.

“Come in,” Will called.

Jago entered and congratulated himself on his timing. Will was not long out of the

shower, still in unfastened jeans with a towel around his shoulders.

“Hey, Jago.”

Will put the towel aside and pulled a black and white striped T-shirt over his head. He

stepped forward then and hugged Jago, brushing a fleeting kiss on his cheek that Jago could still

feel as Will moved away. His gaze dropped to Jago’s bag.

“That’s a lot of stuff just for one night, you planning on moving in?” His dark eyes lifted

to meet Jago’s, cheeks dimpling as he smiled.

Jago shrugged, embarrassed. “I brought a sleeping bag and stuff. I wasn’t sure—”

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“You don’t need them. Unless you’d rather be on the floor?” Will frowned for a moment,

as though seriously thinking that Jago might prefer a crappy camping mat on the floor to sharing

his bed.

“I didn’t want to assume.”

Jago still wasn’t sure what to expect from tonight. He’d shared a bed with Will several

times before anything had ever happened, thrilling and terrifying nights of accidental cuddling

and awkward morning erections. Was this just going to be another one of those? Will was hard to

read and he didn’t reply. He’d turned away and was busy tying a scarf around his head in front of

his mirror.

“Does this look piratey enough?”

“That’s not a word. But yes, it’ll do.” Jago looked at him, considering. “Did you say you

have an eye patch?”

“Yeah. I got mum to make me one, and I have a cutlass—look!” Will picked up a curved

plastic sword and brandished it at Jago. “Arrr Jim-lad!”

Jago grinned. “Nice. But I bet you lose it in the first pub.”

“Probably.” Will nodded. “And the parrot.”

“What parrot?”

“The one I need you to pin to my shoulder once I’ve got my coat on. It’s downstairs.”

The stuffed beanie parrot refused to stand upright. No matter how many safety pins Jago

used to try and secure its base, it insisted on flopping forward pathetically.

“That’s as good as it’s going to get.” Jago stepped back. “You’ll just have to tell people

it’s been on the rum already.”

Will laughed. “That works. Okay, ready to go?”

They walked down the steep, narrow streets of the harbour town. For a small town, Mevagissey

was well endowed with pubs, so was a perfect location for a pub crawl.

They found their mates in The Galleon and it was already packed. Smokers hung around

in groups outside, and inside the pub you could hardly move for people in every fancy dress

costume you could imagine. St Trinian’s schoolgirls rubbed shoulders with daleks, nuns, and

vampires. One guy appeared to be dressed as a bunch of grapes with green tights and what

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looked like about twenty purple balloons attached to his body. As they squeezed past him to get

to the bar, one of the balloons popped.

“Oops, sorry mate,” Will said with an apologetic grin.

“No worries.” The guy raised his glass. “If any of them make it through the night it’ll be

a miracle.”

They found their friends clustered around a tiny table. There was only space for a few of

them to sit down so the rest stood, admiring each other’s costumes and chatting excitedly.

“You’re going to roast,” Jago said to Tom, who was wearing a gorilla suit. He’d taken the

head off so that he could drink his beer, and his face was already flushed and sweaty in the thick

heat of the pub.

“Better than freezing my bollocks off.” Tom jerked his head towards another friend,

Martin, who was dressed as Tarzan—presumably—in nothing more than some skimpy brown

Speedos and a strip of fake leopard skin.

Mel was dressed as a Smurf, with a white beanie and ridiculous quantities of blue face

and body paint.

“I’m planning on painting the town blue.” She smirked. “You’ll all be able to tell how

many people I’ve snogged by the end of the night.”

“Drink up then folks.” Tom waved his now empty glass. “Time to move on.”

Jago made a conscious effort not to stick too close to Will’s side. Still unsure about Will’s

motives, he didn’t want to seem clingy. But somehow, whenever he turned around, Will always

seemed to be there, and as the evening progressed he became more and more tactile. It was

nothing too overt, just a hand on Jago’s shoulder or the small of his back, or leaning in a little

closer than he needed to in order to speak into Jago’s ear over the noise of the pub. But each time

it gave Jago a secret little thrill and he returned the touches, enjoying the tension that was

simmering between them.

I’m definitely in there, he thought. And if Will was only looking for another hook up,

then Jago would take what he could get. But he couldn’t help hoping, his heart swelling with

warmth when Will held his gaze or smiled at him in a way that made Jago feel as though he was

the only person there who mattered.

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By the third pub, things were revving up nicely. The noise levels were going through the roof as

blood-alcohol levels skyrocketed. As predicted, Will had lost all his piratical accessories already

and Jago had managed to leave his cowboy hat somewhere too. By the fourth pub, with just half

an hour to go until midnight, mistletoe was circulating and lots of people had started kissing each

other just for the hell of it.

“Jago!” Mel stumbled into his arms and clung to his shoulders. “Give us a snog for old

time’s sake.”

Mel had actually been the first person that Jago had ever kissed, during a game of spin

the bottle when they were twelve, and they’d snogged again at a party a couple of years later

while Jago was still trying—unsuccessfully—to convince himself that he liked girls.

He grinned as she made a terrible pouty duck face at him. New Year’s Eve in Meva was

always about snogging as many people as you could, and Jago was game. He held her shoulders

and leaned down a few inches to reach, then kissed her thoroughly until she pulled away to

inspect his face.

“You’ve been Smurfed.” She giggled as she turned away, looking for her next victim.

“Thanks.” Jago wiped ineffectually at his mouth and chin and his hands came away blue.

He rolled his eyes and then turned to look at Will. Will had a definite pout marring his lips that

wasn’t of the puckering up variety.

“Will’s not nearly blue enough,” Jago called after Mel. But Mel was already busy kissing

a girl dressed as Wonder Woman, so Jago stepped close to Will and pulled his head down. Jago

kissed him, deep and dirty, pushing his tongue into Will’s mouth. When Will responded, licking

back and sliding their tongues together, Jago smiled into the kiss and hummed, knowing that

Will would feel the vibration even if he couldn’t hear over the noise that surrounded them.

Loud whooping and hollering from their friends finally made them break apart. Heat

swept through Jago, but it was from more than just embarrassment at the attention they were

getting. He licked his lips and caught Will watching the movement.

Jago reached to slide the tips of his fingers over Will’s cheek where it was smudged with

blue paint from Jago’s face. “That’s better.” He smiled.

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Will caught Jago’s hand as he drew back. “Can we get out of here?” His dark eyes

glittered, and the arch of an eyebrow told Jago that Will was after more than just fresh air.

Jago nodded, his mouth was dry and heart pounded.

Will kept hold of his hand and tugged him away through the crowd as their friends

laughed and wolf whistled. Out in the street, the chill air hit Jago, pouring into his lungs and

pulling him out of his beer-induced haze. His senses sharpened suddenly. Will’s hand was warm,

and his fingers were strong where they laced with Jago’s. The sound of drunken revellers grew

faint, and the darkness swallowed them up as they moved further away from the lit up town

centre and towards the harbour where the scent of the sea was strong on the cold breeze.

“Here.” Will finally stopped in a dark shadow thrown by the high wall along the wharf.

He pressed Jago up against the stones and kissed him, slowly, and with deliberate attention to

detail that sent heat rocketing through Jago from his toes to his scalp. He scrabbled at Will’s

waist, sliding his cold hands up to find warm skin, and Will gasped and pressed closer. Jago

could feel Will now, hard against his hip, and he pulled him closer still. They moaned, still

kissing as they rocked together.

Jago lost all track of time as Will’s hot, wet mouth sent him into a spiral of need and

want. He kissed all the skin he could reach, leaving spit-damp trails on Jago’s neck that tingled

in the chilly air. Jago managed to get his hands down the back of Will’s trousers and pants and

clutched at his buttocks like a drowning man grabbing hold of a lifebelt. He worked his fingers

into the crack, feeling for Will’s hole, and when he stroked over it Will stiffened and jerked.

“Fuck, Jago. Stop. You’re gonna make me come in my pants.”

Jago chuckled. “It’s so tempting.”

But he relented, knowing from bitter experience how unpleasant come-filled underwear

could be in the aftermath. Instead he turned them both, backing Will up against the wall and

sliding down his body until he was kneeling at Will’s feet. The concrete was hard under his

knees, but once he’d got his lips wrapped around the hot, silky skin of Will’s cock, Jago didn’t

care. The wet sound of his mouth and Will’s soft moans mingled with the sound of water lapping

against the harbour wall. Jago got his own dick out as he sucked, stroking himself in time with

the slide of his lips on Will.

Will tightened his fingers in Jago’s hair, tangling them in the curls. “God, Jago… yeah,

yeah.” Will’s voice rose as he came in hot spurts, the sea-salty taste of him thick on Jago’s

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tongue as he swallowed and licked Will clean. His own hand was still moving on his cock,

stroking faster now. “Shit, Jago. Are you touching yourself? Here… let me suck you.”

Will slid down the wall as Jago got to his feet. Jago braced his arms against the stones

and looked down. There was just enough light to make out the shape of his cock as it slid into

Will’s mouth, and then Jago had to close his eyes to stop himself from coming straight away.

“Jesus,” he hissed, bucking forward helplessly into the wet heat. “Sorry.” But Will just

made a noise of encouragement and pulled on Jago’s hips. “This isn’t going to take long,” Jago

gasped, half-laughing as he started to move.

Each slide of his cock brought him closer. The chill air as he withdrew emphasised the

delicious heat of Will’s mouth as he pushed back inside. Jago tried to stay quiet, but as he surged

closer he couldn’t hold back his moans. Will’s hand tugging gently on his balls finally tipped

him over, and as Jago came, the distant sounds of cheers and fireworks heralded the start of a

new year.

Once the waves of pleasure had finished breaking over Jago, he laughed breathlessly.

“Perfect timing or what? Happy New Year!” He gave Will a hand up, still chuckling.

“We missed midnight.”

“Totally worth it,” Will replied as he slid his fingers into Jago’s wild curls and tugged

him closer.

Their New Year’s kiss was sweet and gentle, with none of the horny desperation of

before. But then the chill breeze reminded them that their cocks were still hanging out, so they

separated to rearrange their clothing.

The afterglow was already receding, and as Jago turned his head to watch the fireworks

exploding in the sky above the town, he shivered, missing the warm security of Will’s body

against his.

“We’ll be missing the midnight kissing frenzy,” Jago said. “Do you want to go back?”

“Not yet.” Will sat, pulling Jago down by his hand and they sprawled there together,

leaning against the wall, their fingers linked together. “Anyway,” Will added, with a tension in

his voice that made Jago turn his head towards him. “You’re the only person I want to kiss.”

Jago had no idea what to say. His heart pounded as his mind scrambled frantically for an

appropriate response. “Yeah, right,” he finally said, trying to scoff, but it just came out sounding

uncertain.

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Lame, Jago, very lame.

He turned his head away, but Will’s free hand came up, holding his chin and pulling his

face back. He couldn’t read Will’s expression, but his hand holding Jago’s was gripping so hard

it was almost painful.

“I mean it,” Will said. “I know I was the one who broke things off at the end of the

summer. I honestly thought it was for the best at the time. We were going to be moving away

and I thought it made sense to have a clean break, even though I really cared about you.” He held

Jago’s gaze. “I wasn’t sure how you felt about me anyway… whether it was just a summer fling

for you or something more, you never said.”

“You never asked,” Jago retorted.

“I know.” Will paused and sighed. “I should have, I was stupid. It turns out you weren’t

so easy to forget about, and I was hoping that maybe…. ” He paused and Jago held his breath for

a moment, not quite believing that Will could mean what it sounded like he meant. “Maybe if

you felt the same, we could try again?”

A wave of blinding happiness swept through Jago as he struggled to formulate a reply,

but before he could get any words out, Will started talking again. The words rattled out

nervously, and his grip was still tight on Jago’s hand.

“Exeter isn’t that far away from Plymouth really, it’s only an hour on the train, and I

don’t have any lectures on Friday afternoon so it’s easy for me to get away. Plus we can Skype

and text and stuff. So if you wanted to like… go out with me properly, we could see each other at

weekends. I think we could make it work?” He finally stopped for breath before adding, “Fuck,

Jago. Say something please. You’re freaking me out.”

He sounded so uncertain, and the raw hope in his voice matched everything that Jago had

been feeling over Christmas.

“Are you finished?” Jago asked.

Will nodded, his eyes wide as he stared at Jago, waiting for his answer.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Jago grinned. “In fact, we’re both fucking idiots who need to

learn to use their fucking words instead of assuming things.”

He clambered into Will’s lap and kissed him, cupping his jaw and stroking his face and

showing Will with everything he had that yes, they could make it work, and yes, Jago wanted to

be boyfriends.

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When the kiss finally ended, Will chuckled. “Just to be clear—that was a yes, right?”

“Of course it was a fucking yes.” Jago grinned. “I didn’t want to break up at the end of

the summer. I just didn’t want to be clingy about it when you seemed to have made up your

mind. I have my pride you know. I like to try and keep my pathetic pining well-hidden.”

“I’m sorry.” Will cupped Jago’s cheeks with his hands and pressed a soft kiss against his

lips. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“You did,” Jago admitted. “But I’m sure I can find lots of creative and dirty ways for you

to make it up to me now you’re my boyfriend.”

Will chuckled. “Sounds good to me.” He shifted under Jago’s weight in his lap and

winced. “But I’m freezing my arse off here, so can we go back to the pub now and make a start

on the sexual favours later?”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Jago climbed off Will and pulled him up. “I’ve got plans for

your arse when we get back to your place.”

Their laughter echoed off the high stone walls as they walked back, hand in hand,

towards the lights.

~The End~

UUL

Jay Northcote / Coming Home

35

About the Author

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England, with her amazing, occasionally ridiculous

husband, two noisy-but-awesome children, and two cats.

Jay comes from a family of writers, but she always used to believe that the gene for fiction

writing had passed her by. She spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content.

One day, she decided to try and write a short story–just to see if she could–and found it rather

addictive. She hasn’t stopped writing since.

Website:

www.jaynorthcote.com

Twitter:

@jay_northcote

Facebook page:

Jay Northcote Fiction

Email: [e-mail]

Also by Jay Northcote

Nothing Serious

The Little Things

Coming Soon

Not Just Friends