Page 95 of Shroom for Improvement

When I opened my eyes next, the sun had shifted from the west to the east. Its soft pink luminance marbled the sky. The scent of Claude filled my nostrils, and I realised he’d placed his jacket over my bare arms like a blanket. I was suddenly aware of the chill and the damp.

“Claude,” I whispered, nudging him gently. “Claude, we fell asleep. Let’s go inside.”

He peeled his eyes open, and swung them lazily to me. “Sonny. You’re still here.” My heart flipped over in my chest, but then he seemed to gain more of his senses back. He pushed himself into a seated position. “Did we sleep? Outside?” He glanced around. “It’s morning?”

“Maybe five, five thirty. Come on.”

We stopped by my pee-bale on our way to the house and stood side by side.

“This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” Claude said, laughing as he peed.

Jenny was right, the bale smelled ripe. I should ask the house for a new one so I could spread this one out on the soil in the walled gardens.

We decided that even though technically it was morning, we were both still tired and wanted to get some proper sleep in an actual bed. So we stripped down to our underwear and crawled into Claude’s four-poster bed sans PJs.

Claude was the first to drift off. His earlier rendition of “When You Are Mine” floated through my thoughts.

In my dreams. In my dreams.

How painfully apt those lyrics felt. I flipped onto my side. The sheets were cool against my bare flesh. My fingers made contact with something soft and warm. Claude’s hand. In the middle of the bed. Almost as though he was waiting for me to take it in mine.

I wrapped my pinky and ring fingers around his, and after a few moments, reality and everything surrounding me slid away like oil straining through a cloth.

The End of a Pact

Claude

It felt like nothing at all happened for weeks and weeks, and then everything happened all at once.

The most important things, though, were figuring out the ritual—at least I was pretty certain we’d figured it out—and Sonny telling me he wouldn’t be around for it.

Which, okay, it was unfair of me to be disappointed by that. This was always going to be a temporary situation. He’d already stayed way beyond what we initially agreed to. And he had so much happening in his life, I couldn’t expect him to give it all up to hang out with me. Especially now we knew it was the lightning.

I just needed to practise on my own. I could do it. I knew I could do it. It would take some discipline and repetition, but hopefully I’d be able to do it in time for the solstice.

Sonny poked at his waffles. We were at our usual table, though breakfast time had ended a while ago. It was early afternoon when we woke, in only our underwear, and yep, with some serious boners again. I got rid of mine myself in theshower. I felt like we’d moved past that whole “don’t wank because Jenny will see” pact, and since Jenny saw everything anyway, what was the point? If I was going to live here, I guessed I’d have to get used to the idea. There was no way I could go years without a release. Of course, every stroke had been entirely fuelled by the memories of my courtyard encounter with Sonny.

“Don’t watch, Jenny,”I’d said out loud, passing my hand along my length and staggering against the shower tiles with the instant and overwhelming relief of being able to touch myself again.

“Whatever,”Jenny had replied.“You act like I want to watch.”

I knew it did, but I chose not to remark on it. I did, however, wonder if Sonny had done the same as I had. I’d seen his tent this morning. Pretty difficult to hide when he’d worn only those skin-tight burgundy boxers of his.

Indeed, when Sonny joined me in the dining room, I spared the front of his shorts a quick glance. Everything flat and normal. He gave me a one-shouldered shrug, which translated toyes, I had a wank, but I don’t care. I can’t go another two weeks like last time.

I nodded. We were on the same page when it came to matters of what Jenny saw and how much of a fuck we gave anymore.

“When will you head back to Remy?” I asked, attempting to school my features into something resembling nonchalance, despite my heart doing parkour in my chest.

Sonny moved the food about on his plate. Cut off a piece of waffle. “On the twentieth of June.”

This was when I should have said something in response. Even a “sure” to let him know I’d heard.

“Uh, if that’s okay,” he added, obviously mistaking my silence for something else. “Feel free to kick me out sooner,though I want to make doubly sure we know what the ritual is before I leave.”

“Yes, that’s... great.” And it was great, but now I was more worried about the twentieth’s arrival. About giving him up. He wasn’t even mine. We didn’t have a relationship, just one frantic frot in a dusty old courtyard and a glorious kiss.

Spending more time with him was not the best idea. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of genuine emotions. Knowing my luck, this last month with him would be the month that pushed me over that edge and I’d end up falling head over heels.

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