Page 51 of A Long Way Back
“If I walked around with no trousers on.”
Ink squirted thin wobbly lines of white cream from Tay’s ankles to the edge of his boxers. As he rubbed the lotion in, he stared at Tay’s small, tight arse. Tay had to be gay, right? No straight guy would ask another man to do this. Would they? Ink’s knowledge of so much of the world was limited. He had a head full of facts he’d picked up in books: capital cities, weird and wonderful animals, Russian history, but a brain devoid of experiences he’d have expected to gain in the outside world, ones that would have made him more understanding of people, of interaction, of attraction.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew most gay teenagers struggled in some way or another in coming to terms with what they were, how to handle being gay, whether and what to tell people, but Ink had been denied opportunities to find out things for himself, both online and in life. In the various environments he’d been in, he’d had to be straight in order to stay safe. He’d had to deny his sexuality whenever it was questioned. He needed to put on a face, so that was what he’d done.
The two years of freedom he’d had so far, weren’t enough to make up for what he’d lost, what he’d missed. The irony was that he hadn’t even found himself free when the bars had gone and there were no more doors with locks he couldn’t open. They’d promised him a new life, a fresh start, another chance.Yeah, well fuck them for their lies.
“I think my calves are done,” Tay said.
Shit!How long had he been stroking the same body parts? “Sorry. I’d slipped into autopilot.”
Ink worked his hands higher, spreading the lotion over Tay’s thighs. He resisted the temptation to slide his fingers under the bottom of Tay’s boxers because it was too easy to go a step further and cup, then spread his arse cheeks.Don’t start something you can’t finish.He dropped down onto his front at Tay’s side, wiped his hands on his arms, and picked up the book.
“Is that one of mine?” Tay was looking at him.
“Yep, is it any good?”
“Not bad.”
“What’s it about?”
“Read the blurb on the back.”
“I’m too lazy.”
He was also too pent up to read.
Tay threw his book aside.
Ah, so that was two of them.
“What else is in that bag?” Tay asked.
“A narrow, violently rotating column of air that extends from a thunderstorm to the ground.”
Ink snagged the bag and passed it to Tay.
Tay laughed as he pulled out the game. “Twister?”
“I thought it would be a good way to stretch, particularly if we’re trying not to touch each other.”
“I think we might have gone past the not touching each other.”
Ink gaped at him. “You’re really cured?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or is it just you I can cope with?”
“Cope with?” Ink pouted. “I was pulling out all the stops, using my most advanced massage techniques, and all you did wascope? There wasn’t just a teeny tiny bit of enjoyment? Maybe more than a teeny tiny bit? You don’t have one teeny tiny bit of you to show how impressed it was?”
Tay smiled. “The only way to test if I’m cured is to see how I react to someone other than you touching me.”
Ink stared straight at him. “I don’t know how I feel about other people putting their hands all over you.”
Tay swallowed hard. “I was only thinking of shaking someone’s hand.”
“Oh, okay. Could be it wasn’t such a deep-seated phobia. Now you can actually protest if someone touches you, the trigger’s gone. I looked it up. The fear of being touched is called haphephobia. When I was looking it up, I found an amazing word. Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia. Can you guess what it’s a fear of?”
“Hippos?”
