Broken (25 page)

His mouth is too full to reply, but he moans against my weeping head and I feel the vibrations throughout my whole body.

“Oh God, Theodore…” I rasp when he slides a finger between his lips because I know what’s about to happen. My legs fall open a little wider and I stare at his curious expression as he gently pushes his finger inside me. My instinctive reaction is to tense, urge him away, but I fight it.

“Relax, James,” he says, crawling onto his knees until he’s nose-to-nose with me. “Focus on me. Just me. Let everything else go.”

Closing my eyes, I flick out my tongue, licking his lips as he draws his finger in and out of my body before adding another. He’s warm on my skin, his breath sweeps over my face, yet he still feels too far away.

“
Now,
Theodore. I need to feel you
now
.”

Easing his fingers out of me, he settles them on my balls, making me groan at the delicious heat encasing them. With one hand on my cheek, he smiles, and I’m mesmerised by the glisten in his vivid green eyes which are just inches away from my own. “Not yet.”

Sagging with disappointment, my eyebrows knit together in confusion. Does he want me to beg?
Because I will.

“Theod-” I trail off when, still grinning, he crawls lower, kneeling between my legs.

The heat of his mouth hits me just seconds later as he licks small circles around my hole before sinking inside, making my thighs clench in desperation.

“Holy shit,” I whimper, fisting his hair.

Warmth. Moisture. Pleasure.
Love.

My breaths trickle from my throat in long, deep sighs until I feel like I might literally combust if he doesn’t fill the ache in my ass, the need in my heart, right fucking now.

“Please, Theodore…”

He draws a zigzag up the seam of my balls with the tip of his tongue, along the rigid shaft, before finishing with a gentle flick on my swollen tip. “Wait there.”

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. Goosebumps mottle my skin, mourning the loss of him as I watch him dig into my jacket pocket on the hook by the door. He rips open the condom as he walks back to me, rolling it over his perfect erection before dropping to his knees in front of me.

Instinctively, I start to roll over, but he stops me, keeping me in place with a firm hand on my shoulder. “I want you here with me,” he says. “I want to see you.
Watch
you.”

Nodding weakly, I offer a nervous smile while Theodore rips open the sachet of lube he found in my jacket. He drizzles some onto his cock first before, unexpectedly, doing the same to mine. Taking my hand, he curls my fingers around my throbbing dick and encourages me to massage in the silky coolness before resting his chest on top of mine, my knuckles brushing his taut stomach with every stroke.

I draw up my knees and, reaching down, he positions his tip at my puckered entrance. I swallow down the small lump of anxiety in my throat. It’s been years since I’ve let someone take me this way, and never once have I looked anyone in the eye when they did. But this is Theodore. I need him. I trust him. I
want
to look at him.

With his intense stare fixed on mine, he pushes inside, forcing a rush of emotion buried deep inside my mind to the surface. It burns a little as he stretches me and a silent tear seeps from the corner of my eye – not because of the discomfort, but from the fact I feel whole, complete, for the first time in my life. I realise, when he stills, allowing my body to mould to him, that we’re connected more deeply than I ever thought possible. Body and soul. Heart to heart. He’s the piece of me I never knew I was missing.

“Move, Theodore,” I choke out, my ass pulsating around him, begging for his delicious friction.

He does. He slips in and out torturously slowly, wiping the tear that I didn’t feel fall from my cheek. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

I don’t speak. I can barely breathe as he cups the back of my neck, his other hand gripping my thigh as he plunges into me a little faster. The sting has disappeared, replaced with a craving for him to go harder, deeper…and as if he can read the demand in my expression, he does.

“Fuck, James,” he pants, glowing heat crawling across his neck, spreading onto his pale chest.

Hand still on my cock, I start to tug, knowing it will be over in seconds. “I’m close, Theodore,” I say through gritted teeth, pressure building in my balls as a violent quiver shoots down my spine.

“Let go,” he says. “Let everything go.”

“Ah…Th…” The words stutter in my throat as a bomb of pleasure detonates deep inside my belly. “Th…
fuck!
” My legs tighten, locking around Theodore’s back as my cock twitches in my hand, coating his stomach with jets of hot cum.

Theodore smiles, drawing his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “Your face is stunning when you come,” he whispers, palming my cheek. It’s the calm before the storm. After brushing my lips with his, he straightens his back, grabbing both of my legs and using them as leverage as he starts pounding me so hard, so deep, the rug moves beneath us.

“Oh my God,” he groans, drilling into me over and over again. His hips thrust relentlessly and I reach out, working the mixture of sweat and cum into his heated skin with the pads of my fingers.

“James I’m…oh…shit, yes…”

I feel the moment he comes. I see it on his face, hear it in his breath. It’s exquisite.

“Fuck, I love you,” I say again as he drops my legs and collapses onto my chest. “I’m so sorry, Theodore.”

“No.” Raising his head, he angles his face right in front of mine. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare apologise for letting me know who you are.
All
of you. I told you I was here for you, through light and dark, and I meant it.”

I never doubted him, I still don’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair. A disagreement over furniture pushed me over the edge today. Fucking furniture. I live my life balancing on a set of scales, the slightest weight tipping me into darkness. The problem is each time that happens, they never quite rebalance. Theodore’s presence is enough to keep me teetering in the middle, but if he leaves, if he jumps off that scale, my weight will break it, and I will plummet beyond salvation.

That’s not a responsibility anyone should have to carry, especially someone I love more than anything in the world. My life is hard, dark, complicated. Theodore’s isn’t, and I don’t want to take that from him, but I’m too weak to walk away. I’m not strong enough to live without him, or with the knowledge that I’ve caused him pain by pushing him away.

If I stay with him, I’ll hurt him. If I leave him, I’ll hurt him. But if I was to disappear altogether, he’ll hurt for a little while and then move on. He’ll learn to smile again.

I think I know what I have to do.

“What are you thinking about?”

His voice snaps me back into reality. “Hmm?”

“You look…lost.”

Tell him. You know what you’re considering is wrong. Irrational.

“No, Theodore.”

Tell him how you feel. Ask for help.

“I’m not lost.”

Be honest. Tell him!

“I actually think, for the first time, I know exactly where I’m heading.”

You’re lying. You’re misleading him. You’re a fucking coward.

He can help you.

I ignore the voice of my subconscious because it’s wrong. People have spent years trying to help me and they’ve failed. They failed because it’s impossible. I was born broken. There’s nothing to restore. The time has finally arrived for me to accept that, and I think I have. Nobody else will of course, especially Theodore.

More talking therapy. More drugs. More support – that will be his answer.

But it’s all bullshit. I’m back at rock bottom,
again
, and I’m too fucking tired to climb back to the top, knowing I’ll only fall down again eventually.

“Have you thought about making a doctors appointment?” Theodore asks, his cheek resting over my heart, our bodies still intertwined.

“I will. I’ll call them tomorrow.” It’s a lie part of me hopes I don’t see through. I know I
should
see a doctor, and I’m going to try and talk myself out of giving up. I’m past caring about myself but, although I don’t understand why or how, there are people who care about me and I need to find the energy to do this for them.

What’s wrong with you?

Haven’t got the balls to put these people out of their misery?

You can’t do anything right.

Your mother is right; you don’t see anything through.

Knowing Theodore will be able to feel it, I attempt to calm my racing heart by taking deep breaths through my nose. My mind is fucked, my thoughts, my subconscious, conflicted. I don’t understand what my head wants me to do and I’m quickly losing touch with reality, with what I
should
do.

I’m so tired.

“Let’s go to bed,” Theodore suggests, rolling off me and peeling the condom from his softened cock. “Everything is always clearer after a good night’s sleep.”

It’s early evening, not bedtime, but I don’t have the energy to protest. “Look at this place.” Taking his hand and pulling myself to my feet, I shake my head, utterly ashamed of myself and the mess I’ve created.

“We’ll worry about that in the morning.”

Lifting one side of my mouth into a half-smile that’s flooded with regret, I follow him to the bedroom. As I settle down on the mattress, pressing my back against Theodore’s chest as he holds me, I pray to whoever might be listening that Theodore’s right, that after a sleep I’ll know what I need to do.

**********

I’ve been tidying up the kitchen for over an hour, picking things up, sweeping broken glass, and trying not to wake Theodore in the process. My muscles ache with the movement, so I’ve given up and decided to make coffee instead. It’s only four AM but despite being exhausted, I haven’t been able to fall asleep. For a few hours I lay, content, in Theodore’s arms, finally getting up when I realised Theodore was holding me and I felt…nothing.

If anything I felt a little restricted, and definitely too hot. Since meeting him I’ve always found solace in his touch, but in that moment I couldn’t feel him anymore. I can’t feel anything. Comfort, love, even anger and sadness…it’s all gone.

I’m numb.

Has my mind given up? Have I reached the destination I always knew I was travelling towards? Is this numbness my soul’s way of preparing myself for the inevitable?

You need to end this.

You need to
fight
this.

I shake my head in a lame attempt to unscramble my opposing thoughts as I reach for the freshly boiled kettle. I hover it over the mug, ready to pour, but those damn voices in my subconscious won’t stop interrupting my thought process.

A shock of pain will do it. Jumpstart your emotions. Un-paralyse you.

The back of my hand is over the mug and under the stream of boiling water before I’ve even made the decision to do it. Pain sears through my flesh and I force out a controlled hiss through gritted teeth, fighting the powerful impulse to pull away.

The bedroom door creaks and my instinct to lie, conjure an excuse, kicks in immediately. Purposely dropping the kettle, I cry out as I jump back, gripping my wrist as I dash to the sink.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Theodore fusses, scurrying towards me.

Switching the cold tap to full force, I stick my hand underneath the spray. “Dropped the kettle. No big deal.” It doesn’t surprise me that I’m able to lie so readily, but it
does
disgust me.

“Jesus,” he mutters, wincing as he takes hold of my wrist, bending to get a closer look. “We should get you to A&E.”

“It’s fine.” I dismiss him with a shake of my head.

“It’s blistering already,” he notes. “I’ll drive. I just need to get dressed.”

“I’m not going to fucking hospital.” It was my intention to snap, to raise my voice, yet I remain frustratingly calm.

It didn’t work. The physical pain is there, my hand feels like it’s on fire, the skin leathered and beaming red…but I’m not that bothered about it. I’m not bothered about anything. I’m not even bothered that Theodore’s hand is rubbing my shoulder. Angling my head, I stare at his fingers. I love him, I know I do, but I can’t
feel
it.

Dammit!

“Fine,” he relents. “At least go to the chemist on the way to work. They might have a cream or something you can put on it.”

“Actually,” I begin, shutting the water off. “I think I’ll stay home today. I can work from here.”

Theodore smiles, albeit weakly, and I’m grateful he’s looking at my face so he can’t see that my hand has started shaking. “And you’ll make that doctors appointment?”

“Yes.” Turns out it
is
a lie I’ll be carrying through. “I’m going back to bed for a while first. I didn’t sleep too well.”

“Good idea. I won’t get back to sleep now, so I’m going to get a bath and get ready for work.”