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Sweltering summer days like these are Richmond’s favorite. Mother, in an effort to air out the house, opens every window and props every door. Warm breezes serve to cool the house and draw out the musty dank of winter.

Richmond sits near his mother Amelia at the kitchen table, short blond hair rustling in the breeze. He watches, swinging his feet, cup of ice water clutched to his chest as she peels potatoes. His eyes travel up to her temple, entranced by a bead of sweat rolling down her cheek to her jaw. Watches as she huffs and lifts her shoulder, turning her head to wipe it away.

She chats away with Richmond, telling him about Mrs. Finny next door and her prize roses, or Widow Edwards and the gentleman that comes calling on her these days. It’s not that Amelia gossips. She would never dare tell any of her women friends. Richmond just listens. It’s what he’s good at. He doesn’t judge nor talk about the things Amelia shares with others, for he doesn’t have friends to tell anyway. What he does do is sit, letting mother talk, for father doesn’t listen to her anyway.

Richmond’s sister Chelsea is playing in the back garden, screaming orders at some of the other neighborhood children. It’s obvious she enjoys leading and bossing, for she pushes Richmond around quite a bit. He’s an easy target, quiet and wanting nothing more than to please. Please his sister, his mother, and especially his father.

Father. Richmond Sr. He’s hardly ever home, but when he is Richmond is at his side asking questions or attempting to show him a drawing he’d finished. Father pays no mind. He’s so busy, always in the study, working and working. On the phone or out at the office. No time for the small boy. It doesn’t stop Richmond Jr. from trying.

When Richmond does interact with other children it’s usually girls. He prefers the softer way they speak, their tinkling laughter... the fabrics they wear. So much softer than his scratchy trousers. He likes to sneakily touch the hems of their skirts whilst they sit on the grass making daisy chains and titter away about nothing in particular. Again, he just listens. It is, after all what he’s good at.

Other boys his age are a mystery to Richmond’s six year old mind. All rough and tumble, scabby dirty knees, grass stained clothes. Pushing and shoving because that’s just what they do. Richmond doesn’t understand why they need to do this, only that he thinks it’s silly.

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Richmond prefers hiding inside his own mind. Lying in the grass making up stories or poems about the birds in the trees or the little red squirrels. He enjoys walking along the thin little back alley ways behind the gardens of the neighborhood homes, peaking through the slats to see what mysteries other gardens hold. Old man Howsham’s is his favorite. Overgrown and unkempt as it is, with gnarled vines and knobbly tree roots. He’s convinced this is where the fairies live.

His father, Richmond Sr., thinks his boy is too quiet and frail. “You need to play a sport!” He bellows at Richmond Jr. one morning. “Something to man you up, like footy or rugby.” In an effort to please his father, he goes to school that day in search of a sport that would suit him.

The physical education teacher thankfully decides for Richmond. Given his long and lean body, swimming is what is ultimately chosen.

Richmond is quite pleased with the choice. He likes how silent and muffled the world goes when he’s swimming laps in the water. How clear his mind becomes when he has a goal, to beat his previous time or the other boys in the class. He discovers he’s very good at swimming, and this especially makes his father happy, which is all young Richmond wants.

Looking about him in the locker room after showering one afternoon, Richmond notices the other fifteen year old boys. They’re all pretty similar in form to him; thin and tall, built for swimming. The other boys are looking as well. Hormones and curiosity of others certain bits occupying their muddled minds.

As Richmond is toweling off he hears some muffled laughs from a few lockers away and looks up. Three boys are standing together looking pointedly at him, one covering his mouth to stifle the giggle that is apparently fighting it’s way free. The tallest in the middle of the three is pointing, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“What?” Richmond asks in a small voice, head lowering slightly.

“Oi! How you walk with that thing ‘tween yer’ legs? Gotta’ be a deformity, that!” Snickers the tallest.

“What?” Richmond says again, looking down at himself in confusion. He then looks up to the other boys and their bits, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s no different than what you’ve...” He trails off, looking up and seeing the glint in the tallest boys eyes. Utter disdain is what he’s greeted with, so he clamps his mouth shut and makes to cover his shame with his hands.

“Fuckin’ freak of nature, you are.” The tallest hisses before throwing his soggy towel at Richmond, hitting him square in the chest. He walks off with the other boy who’d been covering his mouth following closely behind.

The third boy that had been standing there pads over to Richmond, nodding at him as he moves to pick up the towel. “Don’t pay Collin no mind. He’s jus’ jealous is all. Hung like a peanut, him.” the boy laughs.

Richmond likes this new boy immediately. Likes his sparkling green eyes and easy smile. His obviously dyed jet black hair that’s longer than most boys his age keep it.

“I--I’m Richmond.” He smiles sheepishly, as he begins to put on his clothes.

“A’right’ Richmond. I’m Andrew. I suppose I should be puttin’ my clothes on as well, ay’. Don’t think the head master would like me runnin’ ‘round the school starkers.”

Richmond watches as Andrew moves to his own locker to pull out his school uniform. He notices as Andrew is yanking out his school bag, all the badges attached. He wants to read them. Quickly, Richmond pulls his own clothes on so he can do so.

Slowly walking towards the other boy, Richmond sits down on the bench nearest the badged school bag. He notices how shiny and colourful these little disks of metal are as he leans in to take a closer look.

“You like em’?” Andrew chirps as he buttons up his collared shirt. He walks over to sit opposite Richmond and begins pointing. “That there’s Siouxsie and the Banshees, and that one’s The Smiths. Oh and this one’s my favorite,” he points to a bright purple one. “The Cure. Wish I had hair like Robert Smith. I’d prolly’ get my arse kicked more than I already do though.”

“You get your arse kicked often?” Richmond asks, slightly confused as to why this open and friendly boy would ever have anyone pick on him.

Andrew smiles. “It’s the eyeliner. I fancy wearin’ a bit of it sometimes. Folks like Collin and his crew don’t take kindly to that.”

Richmond can’t help but smile back at this boy, so different from the other bruisers. He watches as Andrew continues to talk, the boys hands moving animatedly as he explains some new song that he’s really into. It’s like a dance, Andrew’s movements. Richmond is beguiled by them. Bewitched by this new boy. This, Andrew.

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Richmond and Andrew had swimming in common so they began seeing each other regularly after that first encounter. Swimming spilled into every day life when they started hanging outside of that activity. It started with school lunch, which Richmond only ever used to do alone. Andrew found him one day laying underneath a tree staring up at the branches.

Andrew plops down next to Richmond’s head and peers up. “What ya’ looking at?”

“I like how the sun shines through the leaves and branches.” Richmond pushes himself up onto his elbows to look at Andrew.

“Yeah? I’ve got this light in my room what sparkles and casts shadows. I like to watch that in the dark some times. I reckon it’s the same thing. Hey! You should come by. We can listen to CD’s.”

Richmond nervously rubs the back of his neck, looking down to stare at the grass. “Alright.”

“Great! Meet me after in front of the school. You can walk with me.” Andrew hops up, dusting his bottom off. “Gotta’ go. Check you later Rich.”

Richmond watches as Andrew runs off into a crowd of children. Why’s he chosen me? He thinks to himself as he gets up to head to class himself.



Richmond calls his mother from the front office to let her know he won’t be home before making his way toward the front of the school. He stands patiently waiting for Andrew, picking at a loose thread on his coat and looking off into the distance at nothing in particular.

“Oi!” Andrew suddenly appears in Richmond’s field of vision. “You ready?”

“Y--yeah.” Richmond laughs nervously, jumping a little as he feels Andrew’s hand grasp his forearm and pull him to get moving.

Walking quickly, Andrew continues to hold Richmond’s arm as he talks. “You’ll really like this new CD. Portishead, well ambient and trippy.”



Soon enough they’re at the front door of Andrew’s house and he releases Richmond’s arm to retrieve his keys somewhere deep inside his pocket. “My parents ain’t home. They both teach philosophy down at university. Always got something going on.” He suddenly lets out a crow as he finds his key and shoves it in the lock, pushing the door open with his shoulder and almost falls through as it opens.

“Come on Rich.” Andrew grasps Richmond’s hand and pulls him inside, shutting the door roughly with his foot. Tugging yet again, he leads Richmond up the stairs and into a tiny little room. It’s painted deep blue with posters and drawings taped and stapled haphazardly about. Andrew kicks the bedroom door shut as well before letting go of Richmond’s hand and plopping heavily onto the single bed to kick off his shoes. “Guh, can’t stand this uniform. Hope you don’t mind if I change.”

“No. Not at all.” Richmond moves to sit next to Andrew.

Richmond watches as Andrew gets up, moving to the CD player to put on the music he’d mentioned earlier. As the song starts up, Richmond’s eyes move to Andrew’s hips, watching as they begin to sway to the beat.

“I love this song.” Andrew muses to himself as he yanks off his shirt and moves to do the same with his trousers, tossing them to the far corner. He walks to a drawer that’s already open and piled high with clothes, obviously the reason it isn’t shut. Pulling out a black shirt and an odd looking pair of black jeans, Andrew moves to stand in front of Richmond. “Hold these, yeah?” He tosses the jeans to Richmond as he pulls on the extremely tight black t-shirt before snatching the jeans back and putting them on as well.

Richmond cocks an eyebrow and smirks at the jeans. “You can fit one of you in just one of the legs and yet the waist is fitted.”

“That’s the style, yeah! At the raves and that.”


“I think you’d look good in em’ too.” Andrew sits next to Richmond and pulls his legs up under himself. Turning, he grabs a small bag from the bedside table and dumps the contents into his lap. “I feel naked with out my eyeliner.” He states as he rummages through the pile of make-up and pulls out a tiny mirror and an eyeliner pencil.

Taking Richmond’s hand, Andrew set the little mirror in his palm. “Hold this up for me. It’s much easier if I got both hands free.”

Richmond does as he’s told and holds the mirror up, watching as Andrew begins to outline each eye in kohl. “Your parents don’t mind that you wear make-up?”

“Nah, they’re into this progressive parenting. Goes along with philosophy I suppose. Don’t want to stifle me, as mum puts it.”

Andrew finishes his eyes just as the song changes. “Oh I love this one. It’s called Glory Box.” Looking at Richmond, Andrew cocks his head. “Bet you’d look good in eyeliner what with how big and blue your eyes are.”

“I--I don’t know. Father wouldn’t like it if I...”

“Pfft, just wash it off before you go home.”

Before Richmond can protest, Andrew’s hand is on his thigh and he’s leaning practically in his lap, eyeliner pencil at the ready. “Is this such a good idea,” he winces, “using make-up after someone else?”

“Just hold still, yeah.” Andrew whispers, face inches away from Richmond’s as he begins lining. The hand on Richmond’s thigh moves up to cup his jaw, holding tightly to steady his head. “Look up... yeah like that.”

Richmond can feel Andrew’s breath against his lips as the other boy works; smells the mint of the gum he’d been chewing mixed with the lip balm on his own lips. It’s intoxicating, the other boys close proximity, the heat of his body, the fingers pressing into his cheek, the rise and fall of the song.

Andrew stops, finished with the task at hand, but doesn’t move away. He drops the pencil to the duvet and takes a deep breath. Suddenly their lips are touching, a quick and chaste kiss, before Andrew pulls back. “S--sorry. I just wanted to see what that would be like.”

“Th--that’s alright.” Richmond stammers out.

And just like that, the moment seems to pass for Andrew. I smile breaks across his face as he hops up and moves to change the CD. “I really want you to hear this band. They’re loud and all, but I like em’ a lot.”

Richmond blinks several times and attempts to steady his heart and breathing as what Andrew says is Nine Inch Nails begins blaring through the speakers. He watches as Andrew begins jumping around the room, talking animatedly about some sick thing he heard the lead singer did this one time while on lots of drugs. Richmond can’t help but laugh and soon enough it’s like the kiss never happened.

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Richmond starts going to Andrew’s house pretty much every day after school. It’s innocent enough at first. They watch movies or TV, eat junk food. Talk about music or clothing, or a new make-up Andrew happens to like. Andrew is a wealth of information on music in particular and opens Richmond’s eyes to sounds that seem far better than Phil Collin’s.

As time goes on though, Richmond’s mind often wonders back to that kiss. He wants ever so much to just bring it up but Andrew is always talking. Always on a caffeine fueled rant over something. So much so, Richmond can hardly ever get a word in edge wise.

Finally he has his chance one afternoon when Andrew decides he really must have a Nutella and banana sandwich. As he’s shoving a huge bite into his mouth, Richmond musters up the courage to actually say something for once.

“Andrew?” Richmond’s voice breaks.


Richmond rubs the back of his neck. “I was just thinking... about the kiss. Had you ever done that before? Because I hadn’t. Y--you were my first.”

Coughing begins to echo throughout the kitchen and Richmond looks up to see Andrew grasping onto the counter and obviously choking on his sandwich. Thinking quickly, he runs behind Andrew and wraps his arms around his chest, performing the maneuver he’d learned in health class. With one solid push, Nutella and banana go flying across the kitchen and land splat against the microwave door before sliding down like one of those sticky rubber octopus.

“Fucking hell, Richmond!” Andrew wheezes, grasping his chest.

“I--I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would shock you so much. You’re the one who initiated the kiss in the first place. I was just curious...” He trails off, looking down at Andrew doubled over.

Andrew coughs a few more times before standing up straight and goes to pour himself a glass of juice. “Give me a second, yeah. I just about died.” He takes several huge gulps of his beverage.

Richmond stands in silence, feeling sorry that he’d even brought it up. Perhaps this was a bad idea? He probably hasn’t thought about it at all? It was for a laugh, he thinks to himself as he fidgets with his hands and stares at he floor.

Taking down the last of the juice in the glass, Andrew steps in front of Richmond, lowering his head in an attempt to get the taller boy to make eye contact. “OK. The kiss we had... I’ve been thinkin’ on it since we first started bein’ proper mates. It was my first too.”

Looking up into Andrew’s eyes, Richmond lets out a sigh, “Oh thank God. I thought I was the odd one out in al....”

Richmond is cut short by another pair of lips suddenly pressed to his. Andrew’s lips. It’s tentative and chaste, much like the first time. But soon enough Richmond feels one of Andrew’s hands move to the back of his neck, pulling his head tighter to the other boys.

Andrew suddenly pulls back, a little breathless. “I--I wanna’ try somethin’, yeah? With tongues like they do in the movies?”

Richmond nods mutely and Andrew takes that as an invitation and presses their lips together once more. A tongue can be felt slowly licking at Richmond’s lips in a bid for entry. Andrew’s tongue! his fevered brain supplies. Richmond opens his mouth and suddenly feels the tongue against his own... and freezes.

Pulling back, Andrew cocks an eyebrow. “You’re meant to rub your tongue against mine, I think.”

“Oh... alright.”

“Look, Richmond. We should sit down. My knees are all shaky just standin’ in the kitchen snoggin’. I think we’re supposed to be lying in bed or somethin’.”

Nodding quietly yet again, Richmond lets himself be lead up to Andrew’s bedroom, the door now shut and locked. They sit on the bed in silence for a few moments before Richmond decides to be the brave one this time.

“Shall I try first?” Richmond leans in, nose almost touching Andrew’s.

“Go on.” Andrew replies in a shaky whisper; the only give away up until that moment that he was just as nervous as Richmond.

Finding his courage in Andrew’s nervousness, Richmond presses his lips to the other boy’s. His own tongue soon finds it’s way out of his mouth and into Andrew, touching his tongue tentatively with his own. It’s sloppy and lacks any sort of skill, teeth clacking and spit flying. But it’s new, it’s fun, it’s oh so good and it... tastes of Nutella.

They both set up a sort of slow rhythm as they kiss. Andrew’s hand returns to Richmond’s neck, one of Richmond’s hands moves to pull Andrew closer by his shirt. Without even realizing it, Richmond manages to push Andrew onto his back, pulling his own body to lay atop the smaller boy as they continue kissing.

Andrew pulls away, gasping to catch his breath. “Don’t look at me like thah’,” he gulps in air. “I need to breathe. And yer’ knee is digging into my crotch. As hard as I am, that ain’t pleasant.”

Richmond looks down at what Andrew is talking about and upon seeing what he means, scrambles up, off and backward, his back hitting the headboard. “I--I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t...”

“It’s alright. Looks like you were well into it too. Just knees and balls ain’t friends is all I’m sayin’.” Andrew barks out a laugh.

Realizing what Andrew means, a blush spreads up Richmond’s neck as he makes to cover his now tented trousers. “Ah..” He manages to spit out, weakly.

Andrew covers his mouth to stifle a giggle. “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m just as hard as you. Not as big, mind. But hard.”

And just like that, Richmond is laughing along with Andrew.

In a matter of moments they’re back in the kitchen, Richmond cleaning the microwave door of Nutella, while Andrew makes another sandwich and glass of juice. They both then head to the sitting room to watch Legend for the fifteenth time, mainly because Andrew just loves Tim Curry.

Chapter Text

Kisses. Every day now, kisses. At school in the dark corners of stair wells. In the boiler room when the janitor was known to be out to lunch. Underneath the bleachers, away from prying eyes. Kisses at home as well, both Richmond’s and Andrew’s. In the back garden behind the gnarled tree. By the side of the house where the fencing was the highest.

By far, Richmond’s favorite place is his own room, when his parents and sister are out of the house. In his room is where he feels safest. It’s his own home territory with his own bed, own pillows, pictures, all things that are him. In his room is also where his thoughts can soar. Tucked away safe, Richmond is free to think and dream on anything he likes. Explore anything. And these days, that anything is Andrew.

In his room, behind his locked door, hands are also free to roam. He and Andrew can take things just that much farther as Andrew’s hands travel down, down, down. Safe even in the muffled moans as they both rub and press and grind through clothing. They’ve not yet gotten brave enough to venture beyond the protection of thick, restricting fabric, but that doesn’t stop their feverish movements from bringing them both to a messy release. A quick change into clean clothes, sodden items shoved into the bottom of the laundry basket, and mother will never notice.

Scent. Richmond loves Andrew’s scent. When their bodies are pressed to together and Richmond kisses at Andrew’s neck, he breathes it in. It’s musky, and sweaty with just a touch of something spicy. He craves that scent, burns for it. When Andrew is long gone, Richmond will remove his own shirt just to smell the remnants of Andrew’s scent there. Richmond wonders often if it’s wrong to want someone so much.



It’s late Friday night and Richmond is sitting at home. His parents have gone to a business retreat through Richmond Sr.’s job and won’t be back until Sunday. His sister, Chelsea had told Mother and Father that she herself would be spending the night at a friend’s house, when in actual fact, she’s spending the night with her much older boyfriend. Richmond won’t tell on her. He’s got secret plans of his own.

A few days before whilst at Andrew’s house, the other boy had revealed a huge bottle of red wine. He’d informed Richmond that he had knicked it from his grandmother’s house stating, “It belonged to my grandfather. He ain’t living no more and she doesn’t drink. She’s not gonna’ miss it.” They’d both decided to give this huge bottle of wine a try when no one else was around.
This night was perfect for that.

At around quarter past ten a soft knock echoes through Richmond’s house. He quickly runs to the door, pulling it open to see Andrew holding a rather heavy looking rucksack. Andrew is decked out in all his black finery, a tight black t-shirt with Bauhaus printed across the chest and the same strange wide-leg jeans that Richmond still doesn’t quite get. His eyeliner is extra heavy this evening, and his black hair artfully mussed with some sort of product, as though he was trying for some style that didn’t quite work out.

“You gonna’ let me in or are you just gonna’ stand there and stare?” Andrew teases as he pushes past Richmond and makes for the stairs. “I’ve got a ton of stuff in the bag I wanna’ show you. Come on.” He begins to sprint up the steps, taking them by twos.

Richmond shuts the front door and locks it before turning to follow the other boy up to his room. Once inside, he locks his bedroom door as well. He feels he can’t be to careful, even though no one is home.

Moving to his own bed, Richmond sits next to Andrew, watching as he dumps the huge bag onto the duvet. There’s the bottle of wine as Richmond had expected, some CD’s, movies and, of course make-up. What he is surprised to see are a few magazines, ones he’s never seen before.

Seeing the look on Richmond’s face, Andrew picks up one of the glossy periodicals. “I thought,” he pauses as though unsure, “well, we could drink the wine, yeah... And m--maybe try what I saw in this one.”

Richmond takes the magazine from Andrew’s grasp and flips through it. It’s a pornography magazine, that much is clear and he cocks an eyebrow in Andrew’s direction, noticing him struggling to open the bottle. “What did you see that you wanted to... do?”

Andrew lets out a crow of happiness as the cheap twist cap of the bottle comes loose. “Um, well....” He takes a huge mouthful of wine, a bit dribbling down his chin that he has to wipe away with his sleeve. He reaches out, flipping the pages for Richmond and then stops, pointing at a picture of a woman and a man. Her hair is very big and blond, and her overly lipsticked mouth is around the man’s penis. “It says something in the side bar there about that bein’ a blow job.”

“And you want to try that?” Richmond’s voice cracks. They’ve never seen each other undressed but for the locker room, or when they’ve changed clothes, and that surely doesn’t count. Now Andrew wants to use mouths. “I--I don’t know. We’ve only ever... and we haven’t even....” Richmond’s words fail him.

“That’s what the wines for, innit’. To loosen us up.” Andrew smirks, scooting closer to Richmond. “We been doing stuff for weeks now. Ain’t you curious? I am.”

Richmond nods, taking the bottle of wine from Andrew and swallowing down several mouthfuls. “I--I have been curious. I want to see everything.”

“Good. Lemme’ put in some music and we can drink that ‘til we’re comfortable.” Andrew hops up, CD already in-hand as he makes his way over to the stereo. He pops it in and starts it up. The low sounds of Black Number One by Type O Negative flow through the speakers.

Andrew plops back onto the bed and snatches the bottle, taking several gulps before handing it back Richmond and nodding that he should do the same. Taking the wine, Richmond follows suit.

They hand the bottle back and forth for several rounds until Andrew seems to have had enough. He sets the bottle on the floor and falls heavily onto his back against the mattress. “Christ but I feel light-headed. An’ that shit isn’t very tasty. I dunno’ why my mum and dad like wine so much. Probably for the head spins it gives ya’, hey.”

Richmond falls to his side next to Andrew, curling an arm under his head to look at the other boy. “My spine feels tingly.” he confesses with a laugh, free hand venturing to Andrew’s stomach, palm flat.

Andrew shivers. “Mine too.” Turning to face Richmond, Andrew slips a hand to the back of his neck pulling him closer. Their lips touch, tentative at first like always. But soon their tongues are exploring each other’s mouths, made bolder by the alcohol fizzing through their veins. Their hands roam, following familiar paths on each other’s bodies, finding the parts the need to be touched.

Then Andrew stops, pulling back a little. “We’ll be done before we’ve started,” he pants outs, hands batting Richmond’s away as his own shaky fingers begin to undo the fastenings of his jeans. Buttons only halfway undone, Andrew makes a frustrated noise and grasps the waistband, pushing the jeans roughly off his hips. His cock bobs free as he kicks the offending clothing to the floor with a huff, and looks up to see Richmond watching.

A blush spreads up Andrew’s neck as he almost makes to cover himself but thinks better of it. He moves those hands instead to his shirt hem, pulling it up and over his head, throwing it to join the jeans. “Don’t leave me naked alone.” He laughs nervously, unsure of where to put his hands.

Richmond rolls onto his back, his own trembling hands moving to the zip of his trousers. He pops the button and pulls down the metal tab, the teeth of the zip seperating seeming to be the loudest noise in the room aside from the music. He makes short work of pulling his trousers and pants off and pushes them aside. Sitting up, he removes his shirt, hanging it on the bed post before finally turning to look at Andrew.

Andrew’s eye’s are wide as saucers and Richmond somehow knows what’s got him so shocked. “We don’t have to....”

“No it ain’t nothin’. I kinda’ new you was big before because of the touchin’ and the locker room and that. Just surprised to finally see it... this way.” Andrew sits up, grabbing the bottle of wine on the floor and taking two more huge swigs before setting it back down.

“Alright.” Andrew half hiccups, half giggles, crawling on all-fours toward Richmond. He places his hands on Richmond’s shoulders, pushing Richmond’s back against the headboard. “Blow. Job.” He over-enunciates as though he’s trying to figure out the proper definition of the words.

Pushing Richmond’s knees apart, Andrew slips between his thighs, cocking an eyebrow up at the other boys face. “I’m gonna’ make this so good.” He tries to sound sexy but it just comes out slurred.

“Uh huh....” Richmond squeaks out, eyes wide as he watches Andrew’s head sink down, feels Andrew’s breath against his cock.

Andrew opens his mouth as wide as he can, trying to take in as much as the girl in the magazine had been. This turns out to be the wrong approach because he suddenly yanks his head back, coughing, gagging and grabbing his throat. “Fuck.” He wheezes.

Richmond whimpers at the loss of warm, wet heat but recovers soon enough to speak. “We don’t have to. If it’s too big....”

“No!” Andrew coughs. “I wanna’ do this.” He furrows his brow, looking down at the task he’s determined to finish. He opens his mouth once more, going slower this time as he sinks down, tongue rubbing the underside of the tip of Richmond’s cock.

Richmond gasps and his head falls back against the headboard, the sensation entirely too good. He tries to hold as still as possible, muscles shaking with the effort to not buck up into Andrew’s mouth. Then things suddenly get uncomfortable as a strange pressure surrounds Richmond’s dick. His head flies up as he looks down at Andrew. The other boy’s cheeks are puffed, distended and red, as though he were trying to blow up a particularly difficult balloon.

Andrew is indeed blowing. He puffs air over and over, trying for what, Richmond’s unsure. He blows several more times before finally pulling all the way off to breathe, his face red from effort. “Christ!” He gasps. “Does that feel good? I hope it feels good, cause’ I feel like I’m gonna’ pass out.”

“I--I don’t know.”

“What you mean you don’t know? We been touchin’ and that. That feels good. You don’t know if this does?” Andrew huffs.

“It did at first when your tongue was all... and just the wet... but the blowing. Is that how it’s supposed to be done?” Richmond shrugs, hand moving nervously to the back of his neck.

“Well, how bout’ you try me then. Maybe it’s just you.”

Richmond gives Andrew a hurt look before deciding he’ll just show him how this blowing works. Getting up on his knees, Richmond pushes Andrew onto his back, quickly spreading the other boy’s legs and lowering his head. He opens his mouth and slowly takes the tip of Andrew’s cock, tongue attempting to mimic what Andrew had done the first time. Then, much like Andrew, Richmond blows as hard as he can.

“Aaaaaah!” Andrew shouts, almost kicking Richmond in the head with his knee as he crab crawls backwards and almost off the bed. “What the fuck! How is that fun? The porn mags make it look dead sexy.”

Sitting up, Richmond pulls a pillow to his lap to cover himself. “It felt good with the tongue bit.”

“Yeah, that bit was well good. It just don’t make sense, blowin’ till you lose your breath.” Andrew moves to lie on his stomach, thinking hard for a moment. “I mean. Maybe we’re doin’ it wrong. I think it’d feel good if you sucked like on an ice lolly rather than blew.” He stops, looking up at Richmond.

Richmond shrugs. “Suck. That does make more sense.”

Andrew smirks, crawling toward Richmond and yanking the pillow from his lap. “Let’s try this again.” He breathes, pushing Richmond back against the headboard once more. His head sinks down like last time, tongue flicking lightly at the head of Richmond’s dick.

Richmond’s head falls back again, but instead of snapping up in alarm like before, it remains right where it is. The sensation is exquisite, wet and tight as Andrew finally does it right and sucks Richmond’s cock, licking and moving a little. It’s all too much and Richmond’s muscles begin to shake with the force of holding still. Unable to do so any longer, Richmond lets out a loud moan and inadvertently bucks up, coming into Andrew’s mouth.

Flying backward, Andrew splutters, coughs and gags before falling completely off of the bed in a heap of tangled sheets. He spits into the carpet several times as he tries to free his tangled feet. “What the hell!” He manages to exclaim between heaves. “You could have warned me! It’s up my fuckin’ nose!”

“I--I’m sorry.” Richmond crawls from the bed and onto the floor to help Andrew untangle himself. “It did feel good, what you did.”

“No shit.” Andrew growls.

“I, um. I can do it to you, the sucking. To make up for not warning you.” Richmond reasons, touching Andrew’s knee.

Andrew stills and looks up, red-faced but suddenly calmer. “Alright then.”

In the safety of his room, Richmond does as promised. It’s equal parts awkward and wonderful, this intimacy on the floor. Richmond decides this is his new favorite thing.

Chapter Text

The heat of summer spurs Richmond and Andrew on in their exploration of each others bodies. Each new sound, sight, touch, taste, and scent is a treasured and unique experience for them both.

During these summer months, both their parents spend much of the time outside their respective houses. This keeps the secret trysts mostly unnoticed but for the time Richmond’s sister Chelsea catches them on the settee with Andrew’s trousers undone. Thankfully, she never tells on her brother. Richmond suspects it’s because he has caught her a number of times with the Mitchell boy who works at the grocery down the street.



The fall chill brings the families inside more, but it also affords the boys more excuses.

Andrew’s door opens and his mother peeks through to ask if Richmond is spending the night again. The sight that greets her is of Andrew and Richmond buried deep under the duvet.

“Andrew?” Mrs. Clarke’s voice raises an octave.

Struggling with the Duvet, both Andrew and Richmond’s heads pop up through the mess.

“We was cold, Mum. You keep the house freezin’.” Andrew produces a torch out of nowhere. “I was showing Richmond a comic, yeah. I needed this to show him properly under there.”

Richmond nods quickly, hoping his flushed cheeks don’t alert Mrs. Clarke to what they were really up to. He thanks the powers that be they chose to keep their shirts on, otherwise that would be harder to explain.

Mrs. Clarke raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. “Alright. Richmond, are you staying for dinner again?”

Richmond tries not to fidget. “Yes, Miss.”

“We’re having fish fingers. Be down in ten.” She smiles kindly before shutting the door.

“Ten minutes. More than enough time.” Andrew smirks at Richmond, hand snaking down to the task it was so rudely interrupted from doing moments before.

“Ah, I don’t think....” But Richmond’s protest is cut off as Andrew’s fingers wrap tightly around his cock.

“Shhh, it won’t take no time if we do it together, just...” Andrew grabs Richmond’s hand and places it against his own erection. “yeah, like that.”

They both fall to their sides facing one another, breath mingling and light kisses given as they stroke and squeeze and pull. Richmond pushes his lips hungrily against Andrew’s, biting at his lower swell.

Andrew lets out a soft whimper, hips moving erratically as he comes over Richmond’s swift moving fingers and their tangled thighs. His own hand tightens over Richmond’s cock to pull the other boy over the edge with him.

Richmond doesn’t disappoint, letting out a muted cry as he bucks into Andrew’s tight fist two more times before spilling his own release onto the sheets. “God.” He manages to pant out before his body goes lip against the mattress.

“Yeah.” Andrew laughs, kissing Richmond’s nose as he wipes his sticky fingers against the front of his shirt.

“Hey!” Richmond protests feebly. “That’s the only shirt I have here.”

“Wear one of mine. We’re the same size.” Andrew sits up and stretches, moving the duvet to get up. “It ain’t like I won’t never see you.”

Richmond sits up as well, pulling the sullied shirt over his head and throwing it at Andrew. He misses. “Alright. We’d best hurry and dress. I don’t want your mother coming in again.”

Andrew pulls out a fresh shirt and hands it to Richmond. “It ain’t as though she cares really. Last time she asked me if I was seein’ someone, she did say ‘boy or girl’. My parents aren’t like yours.”

“I know. I wish I could just live with you.” Richmond admits softly, slipping the clean shirt on and retrieving his jeans as well.

Pulling on one trouser leg, Andrew hops about the room to get his other leg in, stumbling against Richmond’s ready arms. “Yeah, I wish you did too.”



Soon enough, Richmond and Andrew are downstairs at the kitchen table, huge piles of fish fingers and chips in front of them. Andrew is shoveling them into his mouth like he’d never eaten before in his life while Richmond gingerly sprinkles vinegar over his own portion.

Mr. Clarke clears his throat, causing both boys to look up. “So, I suppose I can announce this even with Richmond here.”

“Wotchoo’ got?” Andrew muffles through a mouth full of food.

“Well, you know I’ve been applying for teaching jobs.” Mr. Clarke reaches for his wife’s hand. “I’ve been offered one... in New Zealand”

Richmond drops his fork, feeling suddenly sick.

Andrew spits his food out onto the plate, causing his mother to gasp. “What?! New Zealand? That’s like on the other side of the planet, Dad!”

Mr. Clarke’s brow furrows. “Yes. I didn’t say the jobs I’d be applying for would solely be in England. It turns out they’ll be needing me quite soon. I’ve contacted your school to let them know you’ll be moving in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! Fucking hell!” Andrew scoots his chair noisily away from the table and stands up, giving Richmond a stricken look.

“Andrew!” His mother shouts. “Language.”

“But, Mum I...” Andrew trails off.

Richmond watches in absolute anguish as he sees tears begin to stream down Andrew’s cheeks. He stands as well, reaching out a hand to the other boys shoulder, unsure of what to do.

“Don’t.” Andrew growls, pulling his shoulder away and turning on his heels, running up the steps. The bang of his bedroom door echoes through the house.

Clenching his fists, Richmond looks at Andrew’s parents. Jaw tight to keep himself from crying, he nods at them both before quickly walking to the front door and out of the house. Once he’s a few house down the street, Richmond begins to sob.



Later that evening, Richmond is lying in the dark of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. His cheeks are wet with tears; throat sore from the wails he stifled in his pillow. His chest is tight, heart feeling as though it might at any moment burst through his rib cage. All he can manage to think is, Why, why, why... I love him... why, why, why.

“Richmond!” He hears his name being called from the back garden and sits up. Running to the window, he opens it to see Andrew, waving in his pajama’s. “Let me in.”

Rushing down the stairs by twos, Richmond slides in socked feet to the back door, flinging it open. “What are you?...”

Andrew barrels into Richmond’s chest, thin arms wrapping tight around him. “I can’t leave, Richmond! I can’t!”

“Shh, my parents are sleeping. Come up stairs.” Richmond grasps Andrew’s wrist and pulls him swiftly up to his room. Once inside he shuts the door gently and locks it.

The next thing Richmond knows, he’s being spun and around and pressed to the door, Andrew’s mouth sucking and biting his neck. “I ain’t moving,” the other boy pants between nips and licks. “I don’t wanna’ leave you. I love...”

Richmond pushes Andrew back by the shoulders. “I love you too.”

Their lips crash together roughly and Richmond pushes Andrew backward and onto the bed. They both scramble to remove clothes, tossing them in every direction in their haste.

Both completely naked, Richmond slips between Andrew’s parted legs, lips mouthing down the other boys soft thighs. “You’re staying with me.” Richmond mumbles. “You’re mine.”

“Yours.” Andrew keens out, head falling back as Richmond takes him into his mouth, sucking for all he’s worth.

Richmond bobs his head in a fast rhythm, tonguing the underside of Andrew’s cock over and over again. He revels in the movements, twitches and noises the other boy makes as he works his rigid member; coaxing him to come. The salty tang on his tongue tells him Andrew is very close already, and he wants it all.

Sucking as hard as he can, Richmond gets his wish as Andrew bucks up and lets out a sob, coming in a rush down Richmond’s throat. He swallows it all before moving up to kiss Andrew on the mouth.

Andrew breaks the kiss and pulls back, shaking his head as fresh tears flow down his cheeks. “They can’t separate us, Rich. They just can’t.”

“No.” Richmond whimpers, kissing the trail of tears down Andrew’s face. “Maybe my parents will let you stay with us. Maybe....” He stops, knowing that won’t be the case.

“I just... I love you so much. I know I ain’t said before, but I do. When I went up to my room after what dad said, I realized it.” Andrew breaks down, turning his head away to cry.

Tears prick Richmond’s own eyes as he watches Andrew. He wraps his arms around Andrew’s waist and buries his face in the other boys neck, beginning to sob also. They both lie like that for quite some time, crying in each others arms. Soon enough though, they’ve both exhausted themselves with crying and fall asleep.

No one is the wiser in Richmond’s house the next day when both he and Andrew wake, for Richmond’s parents don’t pay him much attention anyway.



The next two weeks go by in a blur as both Richmond and Andrew try and spend as much time with each other as they possibly can. They take walks, see films, play games; anything to distract them from the impending move.

Richmond comes by Andrew’s on a Friday to find crates, trunks and boxes piled on the front lawn. He bounds up the stairs to find Andrew sitting cross legged on the floor, putting clothes into a bin bag.

Andrew looks up, a sad smile playing across his face. “Tomorrow.” He says simply, shoving a pair of pants roughly into the bag.

“Tomorrow.” Richmond repeats, moving to sit next to him.

In silence they both pack up Andrew’s room.



Early the following morning, Richmond takes the taxi with Andrew and his parents to the airport. The car is silent as they move down cold grey streets, Andrew sneaking sidelong glances at Richmond as they move along.

Soon enough they arrive at the surprisingly busy airport given the time of the morning. Richmond kindly helps Mr. and Mrs. Clarke with their bags and walks with them as they check in.

Andrew tugs at Richmond’s sleeve and pulls him to a bathroom. They enter and stall and shut the door, both leaning against opposite walls to look at one another.

“I’ll write everyday.” Andrew says in a shaky whisper.

“I will too.” Richmond replies, reaching out a hand to touch Andrew’s cheek.

Andrew bolts forward, wrapping his arms around Richmond’s neck and hugs him tightly. “Love you.”

“I love you.” Richmond repeats, bringing his own arms around Andrew’s hips.

They stay like that for a few moments before Andrew pulls back and drags Richmond out of the stall. They both dry their eyes before making their way out of the bathroom to find Andrew’s parents.

Mrs. Clarke spots the boys and waves them over, her own eyes watery with sadness. “Alright boys,” she smiles at Richmond. “our plane leaves in a half hour. We best go through security.” She suddenly grabs Richmond’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug. “You’re a good friend to my Andrew.” She whispers into his ear before pulling back and wiping her eyes.

She hands Andrew his ticket. “Say your goodbyes and meet us.” She nods at him before turning and walking away.

Andrew turns to Richmond, new tears sparkling at the corners of his eyes. “Alright then.” He says simply as he leans forward and gives Richmond a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Alright.” Richmond nods, standing back.

Andrew turns and slowly walks away. Richmond watches until he can no longer see him in the crowd of people.

Making his way outside, Richmond searches the front of the terminal for a cab home. finding one, he gets in and gives the cab driver his address.

Resting his dizzy head against the freezing glass, Richmond watches the world whiz by through a veil of silent tears. As he quietly cries it begins to snow.