Me and Mike Part 4

Knock.

Knock, Knock.

For a second after waking I didn’t know where I was, but I knew I was holding something fairly large and warm under my bedcovers. I drew back the duvet…

-Crikey-

He was still asleep and looked damn cute curled up against my body with my arms holding him securely around the waist. I couldn’t quite remember how he had got there – maybe that had something to do with the incredible pain in my head and the complete dryness of my throat.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Every sound was like a nail being driven into my skull.
I took one hand away from his waist and reached over to the desk where my mobile was sitting.

9:27

-Oh Fuck-

I was late – it was real this time.

“Will? You up love?” Lav’s voice cut through me like a blunt axe.

“Just a sec” I muttered weakly.

I disentangled myself from Mike and slid out of bed. One look at my cum-stained boxer shorts made me wonder if I had lost my virginity the previous night. After stumbling across the freezing floor to the other end of my room, I slowly opened the door – just wide enough to poke my head through the gap.

“Good Morning Will”

-Ugh-

“Hey”
“You’re a bit late I’m afraid – we’re due to leave for Beamish in three minutes – the whole groups waiting for you and Mike” – she said it like it was something I would be pleased to hear.
“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute”
“Good, good”

She moved down a door and started knocking.

“Mike? You up?”

“Look, uh, Lav, I’ll get him up if you want”
“Would you Will? Oh thanks – I’ve got to run y’see – I’m supposed to be counting heads.” With that she half-dashed half-skipped her way down the corridor and out of sight.

Oh bollocks, I could think of a trillion things I really didn’t want to do right now and at the absolute top of that list was to go on a trip to a model mining town. Beamish – as the locals called it – was a ‘living museum’ so to speak - a historically preserved village and coal mine from the nineteenth century. This was our Saturday ‘treat’ – oh God, they had no idea what sixteen year olds did with their spare time.

“Mike…Mike…get up you lazy prick” I nudged him on the shoulder – not particularly gently. He let out a low groan.

“Uhhh?”

Poor fella. This was his first ever hangover. But I had no time to be gentle, despite how much I loved him, I can’t stand being late.

“C’mon, we gotta go – they’re all waiting for us”
I took away the duvet – he was naked except for his boxers, which I noticed were also covered in semen.

-Hmmm- I’d have to ask him about it…. later.

Mike opened his eyes, then closed them, then opened them again slowly.

“What?”
“We’re going to Beamish – the coaches are spos’d to be leaving in a sec”
“Ugh, fuck off, I’ve been to Beamish too many times.”
“So have I, but we’re gunna be late, c’mon”
“Nah…I’ve got a headache” He rolled over and shut his eyes again.
“This isn’t optional Mike”
“Meh”

I went to the bed and wondered how best to remove him from it. I wasn’t sure how much physical contact the previous night had set a precedent for so I simply offered a hand. He took a weary look at it then grabbed it with his own and allowed me to pull him up. He fell into my arms and we were both unsure what to do. I decided to playfully push him away – he looked a bit pissed off about it.
We threw on the same clothes we had been wearing the night before, sprayed ourselves with Lynx and took some Wrigley’s spearmint in lieu of brushing our teeth. I felt knackered, filthy and bloody ill as I walked out the door and I’m pretty sure he did to.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Five minutes later, we were sitting on a – thankfully air-conditioned – coach, departing on the one hour drive from York to Durham. We occupied a double seat right at the back – about seven rows behind Chris and Joe. Chris had raised his eyebrows questioningly at me as we had walked down the aisle, but I had just shrugged nonchalantly and carried on walking. I wasn’t in the mood for explanations – especially seeing as I wasn’t sure myself how I’d ended up sleeping next to (or with?) Mike.
We passed half the journey in silence with Mike dozing as he rested his head on the window and me fighting to keep my eyes open. Eventually though my curiosity got the better of me and I half whispered…

“Mike?”
“Yeh?”
“Y’know last night”
“Yeh”
“Why were we sleeping in the same bed?”
He paused…”I dunno”
“Did we…did we fuck?”
He paused again…”I don’t think so…my arse doesn’t feel any different…does yours?”

I tried clenching my sphincter for a sec – it felt okay.

“Nope”

We looked at each other for a moment, then burst into mutual muffled laughter.
He smiled at me, “I think we kissed though…was that me?” He pointed to the cut on my lip.
“Must’ve been”

I gazed at him fondly…he was leaning against me now rather than the window. I had to confirm it. It hadn’t been a dream surely. So I checked that no one was looking and kissed him hard on the cheek.
He looked startled, then happy. I knew it!
From that moment on, we were a couple.

We spent the rest of the journey piecing together our memories of the night before. We talked about how Chris and Joe had got together and I made a mental note to ask them for that ‘report’ they had promised. We remembered that the semen which was still in our pants (we hadn’t had time to change) had been discharged prematurely and that the most we had managed together was a hard snog. By the time we reached Beamish, we were feeling a lot better and more awake.

Beamish was practically deserted – understandably – no one in their right minds would want to spend a day at Beamish when Alton Towers was a couple of hours away in Birmingham and the sights of London were easily reached in half a day by train. The RAs made us congregate near the entrance and read out a list of rules.

No bad behaviour, no going around in groups of less than three, no leaving the museum, no littering and no complaining. We were to meet for lunch at the museum restaurant at 1:00. Then they sent us of to explore the museum’s several thousand acres of antiquated boredom at our own leisure.
Me and Mike caught up with Chris and Joe before going in.

“How did you guys do last night then” I asked,
“We’ll tell you somewhere less crowded” muttered Joe with a wary glance at the figures of Derrick and Kev close behind us.

So the four of us headed to the steam railway station – that was where everyone went as soon as they entered Beamish – it was quicker than walking the mile to the model village. We all packed on to a couple of carriages which steamed off in the direction of the village. Most people got off there – the one worthwhile thing about Beamish was the sweetshop in the village which sold real ‘old timey’ sweets. I hadn’t remembered to bring any money that morning so there was no point in getting off. The four of us stayed on the train through the various stops, the mine, the schoolhouse, the church, the fairground…until eventually we were the only ones left. We got off at a stop in the middle of nowhere – surrounded by some fields and grazing cows, the village was a few miles behind us. It was a pretty good spot, the sun was shining intensely – which was rare for anywhere in England north of Southampton – Joe had brought a mini football and we had a kickaround for a while. But eventually we all just lay down on the grass and stared at the sky. Half an hour down, eight and a half still to go.

“So did you shag him?” My question to Chris came right out of the blue. He sat up.
“Not quite”
“I swallowed his cock.” Piped up Joe.
“Yeh, and I stuck my tongue up your arse, but that was about it.”
“Felt pretty good to me”
“Yeh, well, I’ve got a prize-winning tongue”

We laughed.

“Me and Will got together” Mike said shyly.
“Really!” Chris’ face was gleeful.
“Yup” I said
“Prove it” demanded Joe jokingly.
“Alright…I will” I rolled onto my side and faced my boyfriend, he put one hand on my behind and stroked my hair with the other. I gently pushed him back down and knelt over him with one knee on either side of his body. He lay there placidly – waiting for my kiss. I ran my hand over his torso underneath his shirt and then swiftly leant down to his lips and stuck my tongue down his throat.

“Wow” said Chris, he was holding Joe around the shoulders now. They began to kiss as well.

The train was approaching behind us again. I assumed it would be empty as it had been for us earlier, so I didn’t bother to stop frenching Mike. However, as it rolled to a stop I heard a familiar, unwelcome voice say,

“Looks like a gay orgy”

Derrick was leaning out the window of the train with two of his greasy friends.

“Oh look, it’s Derrick the Cockney Wanker” said Joe in a mock London accent.
“Fuck you knob-jockey”
“So what, I love cock? I bet you wouldn’t mind some yourself”
“You’re sick you scouse bastards, you’re fucking sick”

The train began to pull away from the platform. Derrick looked livid. Quite calmly, Joe stood up, unzipped his jeans, pulled them down, pulled down his boxers, turned his back to Derrick, bent over, spread his cheeks, slapped his ass and said,

“Come get it Derrick, you know you want to”