For disclaimer and acknowledgements, please see first chapter.
~Chapter title borrowed from Muse (yet again... I guess I must really love them! ^^°) ~
~oOo~
Harry dialled the number with shaking hands. His pulse was thundering so loud in his ears that he wasn’t sure whether he would be able to understand a single word Tristan said, anyway. He didn’t recall any occasion when he had been so excited before. Yeah, well, before he had had to face Voldemort, perhaps, but that had been something different altogether, of course.
The telephone gave one and a half rings before someone picked it up. “Jamie?”
The voice on the other side sounded slightly breathless, but young and pleasant at the same time, and at least as excited and nervous as Harry felt. “Yeah,” he said, trying to make his voice sound steady and cool instead of totally girlish and high-pitched. “It’s me.”
There was a momentary pause. Then, “Damn, this is bloody awkward, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Quite.” Tristan’s voice sounded vaguely familiar to him. But then again he thought that each and every time he got a call – and mostly it turned out he was being spoken to by a recorded message. So much for Harry’s sense of hearing.
“So. Erm. How are you?”
“Totally nervous and everything,” Harry admitted. “This is the first time I’ve done anything like this.”
Tristan laughed at that. He had a very nice laugh, Harry decided. “Me too. I can’t believe I gave you my number!”
“Do you regret it?” Harry asked, feeling a wave of cold wash over him.
“No,” Tristan said quickly. “Not at all. It’s just… weird. I’m usually not so… impulsive, you must know.”
“Well, I’m glad you are with me,” Harry said honestly. “It’s nice talking to you, even though we don’t actually know anything about each other yet.”
He could practically feel Tristan smile at the other end. “Well, I’ve told you my most intimate sex fantasy. There are people I’ve known my entire life who don’t know that much about me.”
Harry chuckled. He was really starting to like Tristan. He could almost imagine what he would look like. He probably had soft blond curls and blue eyes… lightly tanned… some freckles around the nose… his teeth may be a little crooked, but that would do nothing to detract from the charm of his smile. Harry found himself grinning stupidly into the mouthpiece. Okay, so he had a thing for blonds.
“Are you on your own right now?” Harry asked more because he needed something to say than because he actually thought it was important. “Or are your parents at home?”
“I don’t live with my parents anymore,” Tristan said. “I moved out about two months ago. I couldn’t stand it any longer.”
Harry frowned. “What did they do to you?”
“My father… he was constantly pressuring me to get a girl and everything. And my mother… well, she says she doesn’t agree with him, but she never does anything to defend me either, and…” He paused. “Look, let’s not talk about my parents right now, okay? I don’t want to get upset.”
“Oh. Of course, I’m sorry.” Harry stammered, feeling incredibly stupid.
“’s alright,” Tristan said lightly. “Jamie? Could you…uhm… tell me what your first time was like?”
Harry felt his face grow red and hot. He didn’t normally talk about sex, he just did it. Okay, there was the obligatory dirty talk while one was at it, but apart from that… “I… err… okay.” He paused. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“I don’t know… everything. Anything. Whatever you want to share.”
Harry cleared his throat, trying to remember the evening when his first time had taken place.
“Well. It was a cold and foggy night in November. I had been to a pub with a girl I knew from university and…”
“What courses do you take?”
“Huh?”
“At university, I mean. What do you study?”
“Oh. Ehm. English and literature.” Truth be told, Harry had only started studying because he needed something to keep himself occupied until he knew what to do with his life. He’d found he liked literature and so he’d gone and enlisted at the university. He didn’t really think about doing something that had to do with language later on, because actually he was still assuming that he would eventually go back to the Wizarding world. But of course, he couldn’t tell Tristan about that. “What about you? What do you do?”
There was a short pause. “Er… I haven’t quite decided what I want to do. So, you were at the pub with that girl. Then what happened?” He seemed eager to get past the topic of his career and since Harry feared Tristan might ask him something he did not have a good answer for, he complied rather willingly.
“Right. We were at this pub and we were both starting to get seriously drunk. Somewhere along the line, I noticed that Abby was trying to flirt with me. You know, batting her eyelashes, trying to play footsie and all sorts of weird things. I, for reasons I would soon understand, wasn’t interested in her in the least and so I was quite eager to get out of that pub and away from her.”
“Why did you go out with her if you didn’t even like her?” Tristan interrupted, sounding decidedly confused.
“It’s not that I didn’t like her. I mean, she’s a nice girl and we were good friends back then, but I just didn’t want her in, you know, a sexual way. She didn’t seem to understand that.”
“I see. Go on.”
“Well, I made up some lame-ass excuse about having to finish an essay for Uni, which was pretty stupid since she must have known there wasn’t any essay to finish, and then I headed for the door, glad I’d made yet another escape.”
“And you tell me you didn’t know you were gay? Didn’t you get suspicious when you weren’t interested in girls at all?”
“Eh…” Harry thought about this for a moment. “Actually, no. I mean, I’ve always been a little different from anybody else*, and back at school I had some really traumatizing relationships with my best friend‘s sister and a girl whose boyfriend had just died in a… uh… car crash. I figured I needed a little time to get used to girls again.”
Car crashes seemed to be the only way for people to die outside the Wizarding world, really. Besides, Harry thought he’d just made himself seem like a total freak - I’m different from anybody else, now really!
“And all this time you never noticed you actually like cock?” Tristan sounded suspicious.
Harry shrugged, and then remembered that Tristan couldn’t see him doing this. “Well. There was this boy… he was in the same year as me, and I couldn’t stand him. But he was quite good looking, and I guess there might have been moments when I wondered whether our dislike for one another wasn’t just a result of the fact that we secretly fancied each other. But then again he never gave me any reason to think he was attracted to me, so that’s that.”
“Oh,” Tristan said softly. “I think I know what you mean. That’s how I knew I was gay, actually.”
“Hm?”
“Yeah, well. He was pretty popular and everybody loved him, even though he didn’t actually do anything. At least, not back then. Later on, though… Anyway, I guess it was just the way he was, so self-assured and carefree. Whenever he walked into a room, he just owned it. I… I know that sounds stupid, but that’s how it was. I liked him from day one, but he… well, he didn’t even seem to know I existed. So I did all sorts of stupid things to get his attention, but that only made him dislike me.” Tristan paused. “I… once I found out why I wanted his attention so badly, things got pretty frustrating for me.”
“I can imagine that,” Harry said with sympathy. And he really could empathize. He remembered how frustrating it had been to get Cho’s attention, and she had actually already liked him back. The guy Tristan was talking about must have been a real jerk. “And, did it work out in the end?”
Tristan sighed. “No. I haven’t seen him since school ended. He’s probably out there, doing all sorts of great things and populating the world with his magnificent children… But no more of this, let’s get back to your first time.”
“Okay,” Harry said, even though he was much more interested in Tristan’s story. “So I walked out of that pub. I was inebriated and couldn’t recall exactly where my flat was since I had only just moved there. Anyway, remember I said it was frigging cold? Well, it was, and after a while of tipsy stumbling along deserted alleyways, I felt like I was going to freeze my bits off. So I told myself that it couldn’t hurt to warm up in the next bar I passed – and I did. As it turns out, said bar was a gay bar - which I only realised belatedly, when some hot guy chatted me up.”
“He chatted you up? What did he say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Something along the lines of ‘hey cutie, haven’t seen you here before, wanna dance?’”
“What did he look like?”
“I don’t really remember. It was quite dark in there and I was drunk…”
“Oh come on, give it a try.”
“Okay, so, I think he was dirty blond and… well, shirtless.”
“Handsome?”
“Very. Quite cute, actually. Anyway, we were dancing for a while – I don’t know how he made me dance, since I’m not a big dancer usually – and eventually he started feeling me up.”
“He… felt you up?” Tristan’s voice sounded curious and a bit strained.
“Yeah… he started pressing against me, and suddenly I felt his fingers on my crotch.”
Tristan gasped. “He groped you on the dance floor? Where everybody could watch?”
Harry laughed. “Nobody cares. At most gay clubs, sex is everywhere. People constantly fumble and snog and grope, and as long as you don’t actually jump your partner right on top of the bar, nobody minds.”
“Oh.”
“Have you never been to a club before?”
“No. I didn’t want to go there on my own.” Tristan’s voice sounded oddly shy and resigned.
“We should go together. Eventually.”
“That would be nice. I think I might like that.” Tristan sounded a little distant and Harry was once again wondering whether he’d gone too far.
“Want me to go on?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. So when I realise what the guy is at, I’m like, ‘what’re you doing?’, and he says, ‘honey, you’ve got the cutest cock; let’s get out of here and I’ll give you a blow job you won’t forget’.”
“So you went with him?” Tristan said somewhat breathlessly. “Weren’t you scared?”
Harry contemplated this. “I guess I would have been. But I was still pretty smashed and, well, I had quite the boner in my pants, so I really didn’t mind his offer. It wasn’t until the next morning that I fully realised what I’d done and what it meant. He took me to the toilets – they have signs reading ‘no sex in the toilets’ there, but no one gives a fuck – and I leaned against the wall of a cubicle. He undid my trousers, so slowly that I thought I’d die if he didn’t speed up, and then he dropped to his knees.”
“Oh, God,” Tristan said, sounding more out of breath by the minute. Harry couldn’t help wondering whether the boy was working out while they were speaking, or perhaps running up and down the stairs to exercise or just for fun. “And then?”
Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he remembered the scene. “He took my cock out. God, I was so hard, I thought I’d come if he as much as looked at it, but I didn’t. He looked at me with these big brown eyes and said, “That’s a wonderful dick you’ve got there“, and I was so absolutely gagging for it, but he took his time. He licked the head first, slowly, did little circles with his tongue until I wanted to scream, and then he finally took me in.”
Harry couldn’t stop his hand from wandering down his trousers as he recalled the scenario. He was hard against his fly and it felt wonderful when he started to massage his erection lightly through the strained fabric. Talking about sex wasn’t that bad, actually.
“It was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. Wet, molten heat all around my cock, and he sucked it in such a skilled way, and I wanted to fuck his mouth, shit, I wanted to grab his head and fuck his mouth because never before had I needed to come so desperately.”
There was a strangled noise at the other end and Harry was startled out of his memories. “Tristan? Are you alright?”
“I… yeah… I’m… just a moment, please…” the boy panted, and suddenly Harry knew what was going on.
“Hey! Are you touching yourself?” Harry asked, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
There was a shocked pause. “I… no?”
Harry chuckled. “I don’t believe it. You’ve got your cock out, haven’t you?”
“I…”
“That is so hot.”
“You… you think so?” Tristan sounded uncertain and Harry found himself grinning broadly at how adorable he found it.
“Absolutely. I’m so hard my trousers feel fit to burst - I can’t wait until I can take care of this.”
“Then… why don’t you do it now? We could… do it together.”
Harry gulped and his cock grew another inch, even though Harry could have sworn there wasn’t enough skin for such a task. “Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into something.”
Tristan chuckled. “You won’t. I’ve been ready for it for ages. Just… just tell me what you’re doing.”
Harry started chewing on his lower lip. He’d never before had a try at telephone sex, but how bad could it be? “I’m unzipping my fly,” he heard himself say. “What are you doing?”
“I’m holding my cock in my hand, waiting for you to join in.” Harry could practically feel Tristan smirk. Not that he knew what a Tristan-smirk would look like, but it simply had to be cute.
“How do you feel?” he asked as he was fumbling his dick out of his underwear. “How does your cock feel in your hand?”
“I… it’s hot and heavy and slick against my palm. It twitches from time to time. When I squeeze it I can feel the vein at the underside pulsate; that’s funny.”
“I’m ready,” Harry said hoarsely. “I’ve got it out and I’m rubbing it. God, that feels good. What are you doing?”
“I’m playing with my balls. I like that. Do you know how soft your skin is down there? It feels like liquid silk.”
Harry reached down to cup his own testicles to check. He found Tristan was correct. “Hmmm, that’s nice. What now?”
Tristan seemed to become more wanton by the minute. “I‘m taking the lube out of my drawer and squeezing some on my palm. It’s cold and slick, but it feels wonderful on the heated skin of my cock…and… uh…”
Oh, God, Harry thought, fisting his shaft a little harder. This has gotta be one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done!
“Put some on your fingers,” Harry heard himself say. “Then put them down and…”
“I know,” Tristan breathed. “I was going to do that anyway.”
Fuck.
“Tell me what you’re doing!” Harry demanded, his cock throbbing fiercely in his hands. He knew he was about to come, and he had only just started stroking himself. He had been wrong, he decided. This wasn’t one of the most exciting things, this was the most exciting thing he’d ever done!
“I’m lubing my hole… and now…I’m… pushing inside…and… uh fuck…oh… I could pretend that it’s your fingers up my arse… Jamie…”
Harry almost bit right through his lip. A bloke could only take so much, and he was about to break. “Put… put another one in,” he pressed, his hand doing a rapid rhythm up and down his swollen shaft. “Oh… fuck… tell me how it feels.”
“I’m… I’m… ohhhh… oh God… oh GOD… Jamie… I can’t take it any longer…”
Harry was teetering on the edge himself, but he didn’t want to come, not before Tristan was shooting his load. Oh shit, what wouldn’t he have given to see the other boy right now, spread on his back, his face flustered and his fingers up his arse… what a sight that would make!
Then there was a strangled groan close to Harry’s ear and Harry, knowing that meant Tristan had just orgasmed, allowed himself to climax. He couldn’t remember a time when orgasm had been such a relief.
Harry slumped down in his chair afterwards, feeling completely boneless and wanting nothing more than to roll over and fall asleep. Preferably with Tristan by his side. Was it stupid to feel that way about a person you didn’t know at all? Harry wasn’t sure, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either.
“Oh my God,” he finally said, laughing quietly, breathlessly. “That was…”
“Yeah.” Tristan sounded as satisfied and exhausted as Harry felt. “That was intense.”
“Was I good?” Harry grinned lazily.
“The best,” came Tristan’s somewhat sleepy reply and Harry grinned even wider.
Then, “Hey, Jamie?”
“Mmh?”
“How about doing this for real?”
--
TBC
Wenn Du Lob, Anmerkungen, Kritik etc. über dieses Kapitel loswerden möchtest, kannst Du einen Kommentar verfassen.
In der Filmgeschichte hat es derart viele Werwölfe gegeben, dass wir unbedingt etwas ins Bild bringen wollten, was es noch nie zu sehen gab. Wir zeigen also nicht den traditionell behaarten Werwolf, sondern einen unbehaarten.
