Wes and Toren (33 page)

When we got home, Wesley fired up the grill, running out onto the balcony without a coat to light the charcoal. I prepared the rest while we waited for the grill to heat up. Wesley tended to the steaks and I baked Wes & Toren

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the bread, boiled the potatoes, and steamed the broccoli so that they would be done at the same time. Wesley set the table for two and we enjoyed a delicious, romantic dinner. Wesley wasn’t joking when he said he could grill anything, and I was treated to a feast fit for a king.

After dinner, I started to wash the dishes, but I was so satisfactorily full that I didn’t feel like it. Wesley scrubbed the grill immaculately clean with the utensils Alycia gave him for Christmas. I was happy that he liked the grill so much. He couldn’t stop smiling all through dinner.

I sat down on the sofa and Wesley flopped down next to me with a mischievous grin. He pulled a joint out of his cigarette pack and asked if I wanted to celebrate. I nodded happily and we passed it back and forth until it was a fat roach that we set aside to finish at midnight. I felt light and silly and rested my hand on his thigh.

“You know what would be great now?” I asked. Wesley pressed his hand down on mine and smiled devilishly, but I giggled, pulled my hand away, and clapped once. “Kung fu!” I shouted.

Wesley scrunched up his face in disappointment, then nodded. “So what’ll it be?”

“Bruce Lee. Or anything with Jackie Chan ’cause he’s funny. But Jet Li’s really cute….” I mused aloud.

“How about
Enter the Dragon
?” Wesley suggested.

“But we just watched that the other night. Let’s watch
Rumble in
the Bronx
or
Fists of Fury
,” I said, nodding my head in agreement with myself.

The movie ended around 11:30 and we switched to a countdown special hosted by the eternally seventy, almost anachronistic Dick Clark.

We fooled around during the show until there were about five minutes left. We each got a beer, put the roach in the bowl, and waited for the final ten seconds of the year. We counted down as the ball dropped and kissed and clinked beer bottles at midnight.

At 12:01, the phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. A very inebriated Alycia shouted “Happy New Year!” in my ear and Wesley laughed because he could hear her from five feet away. She 250

J. M. Colail

babbled happily and I could hear Jeremy in the background. Alycia rambled on about resolutions and good karma, then shouted “Happy New Year!” again and said goodbye. Wesley and I laughed and made our resolutions as we finished off the roach. Then I put in
Fists of Fury
, closed the blinds across the sliding door, and sat down, straddling Wesley’s lap. I kissed him and pressed my hips against his.

“What’s this? Are you hard already?” he asked playfully, sliding his hand around to my backside.

“Yeah, so why aren’t you?” I said, resting my forearms on his shoulders.

“Kiss me again and you’ll see,” he answered, licking his lips.

I leaned into him and kissed him hard, grinding my hips in his lap.

I closed my eyes and felt him respond as he’d promised. I slid my hands down his chest and unzipped his blue jeans. I pulled away from his kiss as I frigged him with one hand and he glanced down as he unbuttoned my pants. I pulled my jeans off awkwardly without leaving my place on Wesley’s lap and guided his fingers between my thighs.

“You wanna do it out here?” he asked.

“Why do you think I closed the blinds?” I responded throatily and kissed him lightly.

“Are you gonna be okay without stuff?”

“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, sitting up on my knees. I held him firm while I slowly impaled myself.

Wesley sucked in air sharply and scooted down on the couch. He ran his hands up my naked thighs, grabbing onto me with one hand and squeezing my balls with the other. I pumped up and down, alternating speed and angle until I was on the edge of climax. Wesley gripped the back of my head with one hand and kissed me deeply as I exploded in his embrace. He bucked his hips twice more and erupted inside me while Bruce Lee continued to fight his enemies against impossible odds.

Wesley looked down and touched the gooey front of his shirt and grinned accusingly at me. “I hope this doesn’t stain,” he said, caressing my cheek and kissing me softly.

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Of course, he was wearing his new dark orange shirt Mom gave him for Christmas. I blushed, but gripped the hem and pulled the shirt over his head. He smiled handsomely, and a little bit devilishly, and kissed me until my entire body tingled.

“Let’s go to bed,” I whispered in his ear, sliding off his lap.

Wesley stared at me, his eyes glazed over with lust, as I stood up wearing only a long-sleeve shirt. I looked down at him with the same expression, at his naked chest and his jeans pulled low around his hips.

He hurriedly followed me into the bedroom and tackled me on the bed, his hot fingertips touching me all over. He kicked his jeans off and flipped me onto my stomach and I climbed onto my knees with my backside high in the air. He frigged me with one hand and slid two fingers inside me while I ground against his knuckles. Wesley leaned over my back and licked the rim of my ear and I could feel his nipples brushing lightly across my shoulder blades.

“Hurry,” I whimpered, my body on fire with a pleasing ache down below.

“Heh, I forgot how horny you get when you’re stoned,” Wesley chuckled, withdrawing his fingers.

He nudged playfully just to hear me moan pleadingly, and then with a strong thrust entered me wholly. I absentmindedly whispered

“Thank you,” and Wesley chuckled again, but then moaned salaciously when he felt me tighten around him. He held my hips in his strong hands and pulled me backward each time he pushed forward. I trembled beneath his hard frame, pleasure waving through my entire body, and he took me ravenously. He arched his back and climaxed while I spent at the same time. He took several deep breaths then pulled back, withdrawing slowly.

“I love seeing that,” he murmured quietly, and even though it embarrassed me for him to watch, I arched my back so that he could see his semen leaking out of me. “I love you,” he whispered, lying down on my back and nuzzling his chin in the cradle of my neck and shoulder. I turned my face to the side, my cheek brushing against his lips, and whispered back the same thing.

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J. M. Colail

“I HAVE to go to the bookstore. Wanna come?” I asked.

“The bookstore?” Wesley said, glancing up from the TV.

“Yeah, school starts next week,” I said, retrieving my shoes from near the front door. Wesley nodded with a “now-I-remember” expression and crossed his feet on the coffee table. “Wanna come with me?” I asked again.

“Nah. I think I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind,” he answered, resting his hands on his stomach.

I sat down on the sofa with my shoes on the floor and looked at Wesley. “Is your tummy still bothering you?”

“A little bit, but I’ll be fine.”

I slipped my shoes on and tied the laces. “Want me to get anything for you?”

“Yeah. Could you get some Tums or something?”

“Sure,” I said, walking between Wesley and the TV and stopping. I looked at him with the best cutesy face I could come up with and swung my arms back and forth at my sides. “Can I take the car?” I asked sweetly with big eyes.

Wesley smiled, knowing I could manipulate him with that look.

“Will you be all right by yourself?” He taught me how to drive a stick a few months before, but I’d never driven without him.

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“I haven’t stalled once the last few times you let me drive and I’ll be really careful,” I promised. Wesley’s car was his baby and I wanted to assure him that he didn’t need to worry. “Please?” I asked with pouty lips and upturned brows.

“How can I say no to that face?” he agreed with a light chuckle.

“Thank you!” I shouted, grabbing my coat from the back of a kitchen chair. I picked up Wesley’s keys from the counter and pushed my hands through the sleeves of my jacket. “All right. I’ll be back in a little while and I promise I’ll be careful! Love you!” I said, heading out the front door.

I drove to the bookstore on campus. Even though school started next week, it wasn’t very busy. I mulled around with my schedule in my hand, matching class numbers and sections, and picked out the books I needed. I had one text for chem, two for social psych, three for each history class, and two for English comp, and even though most of them were used, I still spent $250. I sighed as I handed my credit card to the clerk and he smiled knowingly at me.

I carried the two heavy bags to the car and was grateful I didn’t have to take the bus. I stopped at a drug store and bought Tums and ice cream before heading home.

When I got back, Wesley was asleep on the sofa. I got a can of soda from the fridge and sat down next to him. Wesley was really cute when he was asleep. He slept with his lips slightly parted and he wrinkled up his nose regularly. I laced my hand with his on top of his stomach and smiled. He scrunched up his face and furrowed his brows and his hand felt clammy. I knew he wasn’t feeling well the last couple of days, but he seemed a little feverish now. His body jerked and he shocked himself awake. He looked at me with sleepy, foggy eyes and managed a smile.

“You’re back already?” he asked with a raspy voice.

“Yeah, safe and sound. But, are you okay? You look a little pale,” I said, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah. My stomach’s still bothering me, but I’ll be fine,” he answered, resting his head back on the sofa again.

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J. M. Colail

“That’s what you said two days ago,” I countered and brought my hand up to his forehead. “Besides, you feel pretty warm. Have you taken anything?”

“I took some ibuprofen a while ago, but I don’t think it’s working.

My stomach still hurts. Did you buy those Tums?” he asked, looking back at the TV.

“Maybe I should call my mom. This started about four days ago and hasn’t gotten any better,” I said, pursing my lips in thought.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. It just has to run its course.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna call anyway. Maybe she can tell us what you can take so you’ll feel a little better,” I said, standing up to get the phone.

Wesley told me not to worry, but I called anyway. Mom was in the middle of her shift, so I left a message with the receptionist in the pediatrics department and Mom called me back half an hour later. I explained Wesley’s aches and pains and her tone startled me a little. She asked where the pain was and how bad it was, and asked about accompanying symptoms. She told me that it could just be the stomach flu but with the location of his stomach pain, it might be appendicitis.

She recommended that Wesley keep taking ibuprofen and if the pain worsened, even the slightest, to head to the ER, just in case.

I began to worry a little more when she mentioned the emergency room and Wesley laughed when I told him what she said. We spent the rest of the day on the sofa and I gave him two ibuprofen tablets every four hours. He didn’t seem to be getting any better and he still felt feverish, but I reasoned that I did tend to worry too much. We went to bed around ten o’clock and Wesley fell asleep right away. I had to count sheep for a while, but I eventually fell asleep too.

Around one in the morning, I woke up and Wesley was sitting up in bed with both hands over his stomach. He was sweating and rocking back and forth slightly. My heart sank and I told him we were going to the hospital. Wesley declined, of course, trying to convince me, and himself, that he was feeling better.

“No. Get dressed because we’re going,” I demanded, getting out of bed and pulling on my blue jeans from the pile of dirty clothes.

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“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not going to the hospital,” he said, though his voice sounded weak.

“We’re going.”

“No, we’re not.”

We argued briefly and I sat down on the bed. I was fully dressed and Wesley was still under the covers in a T-shirt and boxers. I stared at him and he stubbornly glared back at me.

“Wesley, please,” I begged, but he shook his head. “The pain has gotten worse, you can’t sleep, and I think it’s appendicitis. We have to go,” I pleaded, but he refused again.

“Tor, I’ll be fine. I just need to get some sleep. And you do too,” he said. He was adamant and I knew I wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

He lay back down slowly, still holding his stomach.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen,” I said quietly and got out of bed.

Wesley nodded and closed his eyes. I went to the kitchen and got two pills and a glass of water. Wesley took them and I stepped out of my jeans beside the bed.

I tried to sleep, but I knew it was futile. I listened to Wesley’s breathing when he dozed off occasionally, but he mostly twisted and turned in bed. An hour passed and Wesley sat up again, his hands over his stomach and his face scrunched up. I sat up and rubbed his back softly.

“Maybe…maybe I should go,” he gasped.

I jumped out of bed and pulled my jeans up. I got a pair of blue jeans for Wesley and pulled the covers off, but when he tried to swing his legs to the side of the bed, a sudden pang made him recoil.