Chris and Nigel
Book 3, Chapter 3 - "Into the Future"
By It's Only Me from Across the Sea
This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between the characters in it. Although the characters are teenagers who may be below the age of consent in the country or state where this is read, nothing written here should be taken as approval of, or encouragement for, sexual liaisons between people where such liaisons are either illegal, or objectionable for moral reasons. Although this story does not include safe sex practices, it is everyone's own responsibility to themselves and to each other to engage only in PROTECTED SEX. It is a story. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Nothing represented here is based on any fact known to the author.
The story is copyright 2002 by "It's Only Me from Across the Sea". If you copy the story, please leave the credits, and the web address of http://iomfats.org present, and also the email address of its_onlyme@iomfats.org. I'd love to receive feedback.
It was an age. Longer than an age.
I was too stupid to give him any clues. Too sorry for myself.
And then he was holding me and not holding me. "I'm out of my depth. I don't know what to say or do..."
All I needed was to be kissed. And all I was doing was making myself so prickly that no-one in their right mind would kiss me. Well and do everything else I needed afterwards, too. Only I was starting to sob. I'd never actually cared if I was gay or not. That hadn't ever been important. Well it had a bit. But I mean it hadn't been anything to do with the way I loved Nigel. I was just so scared, terrified, of how Billy Tranter had made me feel.
I did my best. I held on to him, stayed in his arms and sobbed. Great wracking sobs. I could still see myself...well not 'see', but visualise. Me, in a position of power over a littler kid. And enjoying it. And I had no idea how to get through it.
It was ages.
We stood for ages, and I still felt huge anger and even bigger self hate. I knew he loved me. Only I needed to feel it somehow. And all I could feel was me being stupid. And stubborn. I just wanted basic reassurance and love.
I knew he was giving me that. I knew he was straining every sinew to try hard to comfort me. And I knew he could only succeed if I let him. And I wasn't letting him. "Please stop..." I heard him dimly through my sobbing. "Chrissy? I can't cope with this..." And then arms left me. My eyes were shut and I was having those dry wracking sobs little kids get. I felt him being not there rather than knew he wasn't there.
And then it got very cold and wet. And my face was stinging as his hand slapped me smartly across the cheek. And I was suddenly back to a pizza delivery and Carol so long ago. Or a few short weeks. Truth to tell I hadn't exactly appreciated it when she'd done it either. It wasn't as though I could stop the sobs at will. No airbrakes on sobbing. But something got through to me.
"CHRISTOPHER JENKINS!" Nigel was speaking in block capitals. He quietened. "Now you have to clean the water off the walls. And when you've done that you can tell me what the fuck is going on in your head." He paused. "I can't cope if you go off on one like this. I just can't. I don't know what to do, and I can't think."
I opened my eyes. Still not in control of my breathing, but starting to get back to myself. "I..."
"Not yet. I'm not interested in hearing a thing until you can breathe properly and this mess you caused is cleared up. I am SO not going to be in trouble with your mother for water on her walls and carpet."
Apart from the lecture it was déjà vu. That day when he stormed off and then Carol took me and led me to Nigel's house all over again, but with him there this time. And this time with his fingerprints on my face.
I got back under control. Still fiercely angry over...something. Not sure I understood what. I crumpled in a small heap on the floor, sort of. Well except it was uncomfy. So I got up again. I must've looked a total prick. "Oh." Wasn't a lot to say.
"'Oh'? All you have to say is 'oh'? Jesus Chris, you drive me to despair sometimes. There are days I'm glad I can't help loving you. This," he said after a pause, "is one of them. You are infuriating and sometimes quite..." He was searching for a word. "quite...dammit Chris you are quite hard to love some days. Even horrid ones when you need me."
"Sorry."
"I don't mean that. Not really. Not that you're hard to love. It's...just...I don't seem to be able to get this right."
I was looking down at my feet. Hadn't said much. Well nothing at all. I'd even stopped thinking. "Nor me." I was still sniffling and stuff.
"If I could read your mind...OK, I know I can mostly. But this is something I don't understand, Chrissy."
"Yeah..."
"You're going to have to explain it to me. I need it spelled out. I can help if I know. We're us, remember. Not just you and me. We're us."
It took an effort to start. "Don't laugh at me?"
"Would I?"
"Maybe. Actually no…. Don't tell me anything patronising, OK?"
"I don't. I won't."
"I don't know quite where to start." I noticed he wasn't interrupting. Just waiting quietly. It made me carry on. "It feels really stupid when I talk about it calmly, think about it calmly."
"Just go on." He was touching me, not firmly, not weakly. It was reassuring.
"In my room. Here's just silly. And I need..."
"A cuddle," he finished for me.
It's never been the tidiest room in the world. We turfed stuff off the bed. Well Nigel did. I'd never felt awkward having a cuddle before. I was feeling pretty mixed up. "I don't know where to start."
He'd snuggled up behind me on the bed, soft breath on the back of my neck. "Just tell me quietly."
So I did. It sounded pretty stupid as I told him. I told him the most important thing first, the odd feeling that I could see, feel what an abuser felt, must feel. And how it got right inside me and made me feel like an abuser myself. He let me get all the way to the end without interrupting me. He just held me.
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