Chapter 19

JUDE

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Turns out the determination had run out pretty quickly right before the action began.

Oliver’s body was simmering with thinly veiled rage from my previous comment which puzzled me greatly. Did he think this was anything else other than…well, you know, experimenting.

Although I also didn’t want to think of it as experimenting. Mainly because it puts into question that I may not be straight. Which I am sure I am.

Then why was he so bristled by my comment? At least I didn’t say I was revolted by kissing him like I’d initially wanted to say.

The determination he’d had however fizzled and turned into awkward silence as none of us knew what to do after our declaration that we would follow with our kiss.

None of us wanted to initiate it.

So we just stood there like dumb stick figures. My back was straight with uncomfortableness. My hands itched like they had developed a very rare skin disease. My face was beginning to burn.

And my eyes? They were looking at every other thing but Oliver.

Oliver was just as flustered and bothered as I was as he could not stop shifting his feet. He began to rub his arms nervously before hugging himself. His head turned away from my direction.

One minute passed.

Three minutes…

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally sighed and muttered to myself, “Guess I’ll be the man between us.”

I’d hoped it was low enough that he couldn’t hear it but Oliver seemed to have at least partially heard some of the words enough to get the gist of it. He stiffened, his head whipping about my direction.

I knew I had struck a nerve. The guy absolutely hates it when his manhood is threatened.

His eyes narrowed before he curled his hands into fists. The energy and the atmosphere seemed to shift with him. He took a step closer to me. And closer.

Which gave me incentive to move closer.

Until we were inches from each other.

It felt like I was auditioning for a romcom. At that thought, I looked at my feet, resolving not to look at his face completely. I had never been this close to him save for the dare we did and I feared something in me would break if I saw his face this up close again.

This was so ridiculous. All this for a Kiss. Up this close, a menagerie of scents from Oliver wafted into my nose; he smelled of Lavender and Peaches. It was absolutely intoxicating.

“S-s-so what n-now?” Oliver breathed out in such a quiet voice that if I hadn’t been close to him, I wouldn’t have heard it.

Oh so now you’re timid, a part of me laughed inwardly.

I decided then to finally gaze at his face and my breath almost got knocked out of my chest. His small button-like nose was absolutely red and in the sun, his eyes were a remarkable shade of deep blue. His skin, a caramel shade, was glowing in the sun possibly from moisturiser and the smell. He looked angelic.

“A peck. On the lips,” I gruffed out, surprised I had any voice left.

Oliver nodded, like he could not speak even if he tried to muster words.

I grabbed his arms in the most unromantic way and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to make this even more weird than it should be. Thoughts of me abandoning this whole ordeal had already begun to assail me, but at this point, a part of me figured it was too late to go back on my actions. I figured if I backed out now, I wouldn’t get another chance. There was no way I’d approach another guy in the name of exploring my sexuality. It was now or never.

Oliver suddenly froze. Was he getting nervous again?

His breathing began to quicken, his breath coming out in short bursts. He pulled away from me, prompting me to open my eyes.

He looked deathly pale.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. His eyes were lost in space. Like he was recounting something horrible. I knew that haunted look. It was the exact way I looked when I was thinking of my dead father during the worst days and I happen to stare at mirror.

Without thinking, I grabbed his hands which were beginning to shake. “Oliver. Oliver breathe. “

He did. Or tried to.

I coaxed him further, urging him to take twenty breaths, each at a time. He obliged.

“Lionel,” he managed to finally whisper after the tenth breath.

A massive weight of dawning realization dropped in my stomach. Realization and shame. Shit. No wonder his look was so familiar. It wasn’t just because I could familiarise myself with it based on my experience with my dad. I’d seen that look on him before.

In that washroom in school.

I immediately let go of his hands, feeling as if acid had been poured on them. Shame burned me, etching a brand on my heart. I can’t believe it. I’d suggested all this without considering what had occurred to him. What Lionel had done. What he could have done had I not intervened in time.

God I was a horrible person.

I cleared my throat and gently began, “Oliver. Breathe. We’re not in the washroom. We’re not in school.”

Oliver released a hiccup before attempting to breathe again.

“We’re outside. Feel the fresh air. Focus on my voice. You’re going to be alright.”

Oliver’s shoulders sagged as I continued talking. Like he really was using my voice as an anchor. I didn’t care whether my voice sounded deeper than usual, dropping an octave lower.

“You’re going to be alright,” I repeated, “Okay?”

Oliver nodded.

After the twentieth breath, colour began to fill Oliver’s face. After another minute, I ascertained that he was collected enough, that he was breathing well and regular.

“Thank you,” he said.

Another minute passed.

He cleared his throat, “What about the kiss?”

I scowled. “No way. This is a whole mess. I never should have initiated this.”

“But what about the unfinished dare? You said it was a spell. A…a curse.”

I shook my head. I don’t know why I was getting so protective but I couldn’t allow this to happen. “Damn all that.”

“But I’m better,” he sputtered.

“No, you’re not. You’re still shaking.”

He clamped down any signs of anxiety or tried to and spectacularly failed.

Then he did the most mind-boggling thing imaginable; he reached out with his hands, grabbed the front of my hoodie and propelled himself straight into my chest. His arms wrapped around my waist.

All before I could process uttering a word.

“Please,” Oliver said, desperation laced in his voice. He buried his head so deep into my hoodie that I was sure he smelled the sweat I had gathered from my training. “Just…just one peck. Anywhere. On my lips, cheeks, ear. Anywhere you want.”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Time seemed to have stopped. The background noises; the birds in the park, the noisy insects all seemed to have disappeared until it was Oliver and I.

“I just want…” he continued, “A part of me wants this. A part of me thinks that it will…” he swallowed, “I think that you’ll wipe away Lionel’s touch. Scrub it off me. Even if it’s just a peck.”

My arms had gone completely limp. His words made no sense. This guy was angry with me just a while ago because I was treating him like an ‘experiment’. Where was all this coming from?

“It doesn’t have to be a deep make out session. Or anything with tongues,” he said, voice shaking, “It can be a graze across my cheek. A smooch. A peck. As long as it happens.”

Silence followed.

“This feels wrong,” I finally managed to breathe out, my voice hoarse with an emotion I couldn’t discern. “What you’re saying will make everything worse. You’ll feel worse after this. I…I can’t.”

“Please,” he tightened his arms around me.

I finally gazed down at him. I stared at his ruffled mop of brown hair for a long moment before my fingers acted on their own and tipped his face upwards. I ignored how utterly romantic we looked from a third party’s perspective.

A voice within me whispered how much I shouldn’t be holding a guy like this but it seemed like it was echoing from a pipe, its source far away.

“Just a peck?” I whispered.

Oliver nodded almost imperceptibly.

I lowered my head to meet his, closing my eyes.

And finally, our lips met.

At first, it was a peck like we had agreed I should have stopped from there. But it was like a burst of fireworks. It was like I was discovering my favourite ice cream flavour when I was five.

I couldn’t stop.

It went from a peck, to a smooch, to a full blown kiss. Everything we had not agreed to.

Oliver released my waist, his hands grabbing my hoodie tightly. Our lips were tangled up in each other, the kiss becoming wilder and wilder as time went on, like hidden passions and wishes were being poured out from God knows where.

His lips were soft like marshmallows.A part of me knew they’d be soft when we did the dare but I didn’t imagine they’dbe this soft. I couldn’t resist biting his lower one. A gasp escaped him. His hands became rough on my chest, clenching and unclenching, like he was grasping for reality.

Like this was a dream.

My pants were getting tighter and tighter the more this went on. Shit. I had to stop this before someone saw us…

Oliver’s tongue brushed against the roof of my mouth and every thought in my head completely disappeared. It rubbed against mine and I released a groan. I couldn’t take this anymore.

I still retained the sense to restrain my hands from exploring his body. Conscious enough to recognise the fact he wouldn’t like that after what happened in the washroom, but my pants were now a pit of magma and boiling water. It was getting very uncomfortable…

As if he could sense that, Oliver’s hand trailed down my chest slowly in a torturous manner. It trailed past my stomach and it was my turn to gasp.

He glanced at me, asking silently. I nodded.

I didn’t want it to stop.

“OLLIE! JUDE!” Rick’s voice called out from the mall, right as Oliver’s hand reached the hem of my shorts. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?”

We broke apart so quick I tripped over myself and fell down face down on the grass.

I could hear footsteps getting closer. Shit.

The footsteps suddenly stopped. “I looked everywhere for you.” I could feel Rick facing Oliver. “You bailed on me before I could pick a pair of pants. Fucker. And why are you breathing so hard? And sweating? You look like you’ve been running.”

Oliver didn’t answer.

Rick suddenly became silent, like he’d just noticed I was laying down on the ground.

I raised my head to glance at him which was the worst mistake.

Rick raised an eyebrow, studying me for a moment. Then he studied Oliver.

“Why are your faces so red?”