Chapter 6
Arthur’s halfway through a lecture reading he doesn't understand and halfway through a coffee that tastes like disappointment when it happens.
He turns the corner of the engineering courtyard, head down, hoodie up, earbuds in – and freezes.
George.
Standing ten paces away, in a shaft of early afternoon light like someone painted him into the scene.
He’s leaning back on one hand against the concrete ledge, legs stretched out, thighs thick where they’re spread, black hoodie riding up slightly where it bunches at his waist. Sharp jaw. Low eyes. Mouth pink from chewing the corner of his lip.
He takes a drag of the cigarette in his hand and lets the smoke blow into the air, jaw tilting up, catching the light.
And then George is laughing at something some guy beside him just said. His eyes crinkle and his shoulders shake once, then settle.
Arthur doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink. Doesn't even move.
And George doesn’t see him, saying something back to the guy.
Arthur’s heart claws its way up his throat. His fingers tighten around his coffee cup. Turn around, he thinks uselessly. Don’t turn around.
George doesn’t.
George reaches into his pocket and texts with one hand, the other holding the cigarette with two fingers, smoke curling into the winter air.
George:
The conversation I’m listening to is so stupid
I’m thinking about counting your ribs again
He stares at George from across the courtyard – at his wide shoulders, the cigarette still balanced between his fingers, the sharp cut of his cheekbone when he turns slightly to laugh again – and then looks down at his phone.
George:
Do you think your body would shiver under my hands?
George’s face looks more serious now as he stares at his phone. Fuck, Arthur has read receipts on.
George:
I’d trace the shape of you until you forgot what day it was
Arthur shivers in the cold air.
And then a thought hits his mind. This is an opportunity to see George react. To see what he wants.
Arthur:
would you leave more marks?
George rolls his head, neck stretching like he’s quietly groaning.
George:
Fucking claim you
Make you mine
Arthur:
i think your mouth would look pretty on my neck
your hands too
George rubs the back of his neck and then stares down at his hand like it bit him.
George:
I’d bite the inside of your thigh
Leave my mouth there so long I’d taste it later
The next time
Arthur's knees nearly buckle.
He exhales slowly, fingers trembling slightly as he types back.
Arthur:
i’d take it so well
take all of you
George brushes off someone else’s attempt to draw him back into the conversation. God knows how he’s doing this with his friends nearby.
George:
Bet you would sweetheart
Bet you’d take it as deep as you could get it
Arthur stares down at the message, pulse punching in his throat.
He thinks about George’s mouth on his thigh, George’s voice in his ear, rasping, sweetheart like it’s a promise and a curse all at once.
Arthur:
youd keep your hand on my throat, yeah?
while i did it?
George doesn’t answer for a second.
George:
Fuck
Yes
Arthur presses a hand to the centre of his chest. It doesn’t help. He’s burning. George is ten steps away and Arthur’s about to fall apart in the courtyard.
He pulls his hood over his head and walks past George. George doesn’t look up, eyes burning into the messages. Arthur heads into the bathrooms and locks the stall.
George takes a long drag of his cigarette and waits for the reply.
Arthur:
i want you to watch me do it
next time
want your hand on my neck while i take you inside of me
want you to come apart underneath me
George walks away from his friends and sits on a bench nearby. Waves them off when they ask what he’s doing. Says he has to respond to something.
George:
I’d ruin you so sweetly you’d beg for it again with my fucking name in your mouth
You don’t know what you do to me
George tucks his cock into the waistband of his shorts with a smooth movement. No one sees.
Arthur presses a palm down over his cock in the stall, half to beg it to stop throbbing, half to relieve the pressure.
Arthur:
call me when you want to hear me
George skips his lecture.