Get-Together Summer (3 page)

Dirk was seated on the edge of the
bed, leaning back on one hand, his legs spread wide. Haley knelt on
the floor between them, her pale head bobbing slowly and steadily,
with a precision that
had
to have been practiced; the realization made
something strange and hot flipflop in the pit of Simon's stomach.
Dirk was sliding his other hand through Haley's hair over and over,
letting the silky length of it slip through his fingers, and his
face was flushed, mouth open and eyes half-lidded. His hips rocked
in tiny shallow movements in counter-rhythm to the movements of
Haley's head, and every now and then he tipped his head back all
the way, showing off the clean line of his throat, which rippled as
he swallowed.

As Simon watched, Haley pulled off slowly, her lips
making a wet popping noise as they slipped free of their work. She
shifted her weight, and he caught a brief glimpse of her profile,
smiling and sweet, turned up to watch Dirk's face. She wrapped her
fingers around Dirk's wet cock, stroking it up and down slowly, and
the gesture made a slick noise that reminded Simon uncomfortably
much of when Dirk had fucked her earlier.

"Baby," Dirk managed, his voice thick and garbled,
"c'mon, be nice."

Haley laughed, low and amused, still stroking with
her hand. When Dirk's fingers twisted harder in her hair, she
leaned forward, and Simon saw the pink flash of her tongue,
swirling easily around the head of Dirk's cock, tracing it with a
delicacy that surprised him, using her hand to hold it steady. He
saw her throat work for a moment, as if swallowing, before she ran
the tip down from crown to balls, then flattened the whole of her
tongue against the shaft, licking her way back up with a broad
stripe. Simon stuffed a hand into his mouth in an attempt to keep
himself from making any noise.

"Fuck," Dirk gasped, almost spitting the word out
through clenched teeth. "I think maybe I taught you too well--"

"Mmhmm," Haley agreed, so deeply smug that she didn't
even sound like herself. She rose up onto her knees again, taking
the length of Dirk's cock into her mouth again, swallowing him down
the whole way. There was something shocking about seeing that, all
that long lean length simply disappearing between her swollen pink
lips, and Simon bit down harder on his hand to remind himself to
stay back, out of sight. Dirk moaned again, low and thick, sounding
almost pained, and began to thrust up with his hips, keeping his
fingers in Haley's hair now instead of stroking through it, and
despite his growing intensity and speed, she simply accepted it,
bracing her hands on his hips a little, but still swallowing the
whole of him down, eagerly and sweetly.

"Ah,
fuck
," Dirk snarled abruptly, then
yanked back on Haley's hair to pull her off of him. Her head was
tilted back almost enough to let Simon see more of her face, and a
moment later Dirk's cock jerked, spraying thin white ribbons of cum
across Haley's face: over her lips and her cheeks and even a little
into her hair. She laughed again, that same low mysterious chuckle
as before, dragging her fingers across the mess and bringing them
to her lips, lapping them in small delicate gestures.

Then she turned, looking archly over her shoulder,
straight at Simon. "Well, come on," she said. "Don't just stand
there. Unless you don't want anything?"

Dirk grinned at him, and even though he'd just come
-- and a lot, from the looks of it -- his cock was still half-hard,
rising again even as Simon stared. He swallowed hard, taking a
jerky step forward. Haley turned to face him completely, and he
could see the whole of her body now: the sweet heavy curve of her
white breasts, larger than first glance would have pinpointed,
topped with hard pink nipples; the gentle outward sweep of her hips
and the elegant line of her legs, with a dark-blonde thatch of hair
between her legs, damp and curled. Simon found himself unable to
look away from that, though from his peripheral vision he saw Haley
lift a hand out to him in invitation. He reached out hesitantly,
swallowing hard and--

--his eyes snapped open.

He was on his own bed, tangled so thoroughly in his
blankets that for a moment he wasn't sure if he could even move.
There was a tight aching lump in his throat, and a nagging pressure
between his legs. Outside the sky was a pale luminescent gray.
Everything was still and calm.

Slowly and carefully, Simon sat up and swung his legs
down to hang off the edge of the bed. He unwrapped himself from his
blanket with equal care, doing his best not to brush against his
erection. Once freed, he went, on tiptoe, down the hallway to
Haley's room.

The door was cracked ajar rather than thrown open
wide. He held his breath and peeked inside. He could see two long
shapes on the bed, and Haley's pale hair spread across the pillow.
Without the distraction of his own breathing, he could hear the
both of them, slow and steady. Relieved, he pulled away and went
back to his own room, past the warm rumpled mess of his bed and to
the adjacent bathroom. He flipped on the lights, squinting against
the sudden brightness off the white tiles, and began to
methodically strip off his clothes. Once naked, he stepped into the
shower, his determined erection bobbing with the movement, and
switched on the water. Hot.

Under the almost-needlelike pressure of the water,
Simon braced one arm against the wall and jerked himself off. It
felt almost like a race against the vague misty recollections of
his dream (Dirk's face, Haley's face; his hardening cock and her
inviting smile), and he was ashamed to admit that he didn't quite
beat them; he came with a muffled groan at the memory of Haley
licking her fingers. For something that hadn't really happened, the
image of it felt burned into his mind's eye. As his orgasm passed
he slumped against the tiles, sliding down until he was seated,
blinking away the shower spray as it dripped into his eyes.

"Fuck," he said, more to test the
sound of it in his own voice. It felt stilted and awkward. His
parents didn't approve of using crass language -- his father liked
to say that a
true
man never resorted to any swearing to make his point. Hearing
his own voice, he was pained at how weak it sounded, too wavering
to have any sort of presence at all. No wonder, then, that Haley
had never noticed him, or that Dirk needed to take pity on him
...

Something welled up in his chest and his eyes began
to sting, watering from more than the shower spray. Fiercely
annoyed at himself, he pressed the heels of both hands against his
eyes and refused to move them until the tight feeling passed. Once
it had, he got back to his feet, switching the water off and
wrapping himself first in a towel, then his blankets again,
crawling back into bed. It felt like he remained awake for the rest
of the night, but the next thing he knew, someone was knocking at
his bedroom door and the light through the windows was brighter and
clearer than before.

"Simon? Are you awake yet?" Haley called.

He froze in the act of trying to sit up. He could
feel himself turning red in spite of himself, and when the doorknob
began to turn, he yelped, "I'm up! Don't come in!"

The turning paused. "All right," she said, though she
sounded dubious. "Dirk said you were coming with us today?"

He wanted to refuse -- he'd been signed up against
his will, he didn't want to go anywhere with that man! -- but
instead he burrowed down deeper into his blanket cocoon and said,
"Yeah, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yes, okay! Yes, I'm c-- I'm going!" He blushed
harder, scrubbing at his face with his blanket-wrapped hands. "What
movie is it?"

"Can I come in?"

"No!" he squawked, his voice cracking. He could
picture Haley's face clearly, her eyes wide and her mouth pursed in
concern. "I mean, I, I'm getting changed! So you can't come
in!"

"You could have just said so," Haley said, but he
could hear the faint edge of relief in her voice. "Don't make it
sound like you're dying or something."

"You just surprised me," he huffed. "So what movie
are we going to?"

"We've got choices. There's some new action thing
Dirk wants to see--"

"That's fine." Simon wriggled to the edge of his bed,
setting his feet on the floor at last. "I don't care, I can pay for
my own ticket."

"So can I. Are you really all right?"

"I'm fine!" He inched his way to his closet, freeing
one arm enough to open the doors. If it was just a movie outing,
and if it was some mindless action thing, he'd go for casual. "When
is it?"

"The matinee's in forty-five minutes, and we're going
to need at least fifteen to get there. Can you manage that?"

"Actually, yes," he huffed. "Are we eating?"

"There's breakfast. Dirk made it."

He paused at that, his hand on a polo shirt. "Did
he?"

"He's a good cook," she said, sounding pleased now.
"You wouldn't guess, looking at him, right?"

"I guess not ..."

"So if you want any, he made eggs and french toast.
Don't take too long, all right?"

Simon resisted the urge to roll his
eyes. "I won't take that long,
Mother
," he said.

"I wouldn't mother you if you didn't need it
sometimes," she shot back. "All right, I'll see you
downstairs."

He listened to the sound of her footsteps moving
away, then took a deep breath, staring at his closet as if it had
insulted him. He really should have said no, he told himself; he
should have shot them both down and let them go off to the theater
by themselves, where they could sit together and maybe hold hands
and who knew what else--

Simon dressed quickly and somehow managed to only rip
one seam in his shirt. He headed downstairs as soon as he was done,
not quite stomping into the dining nook. Dirk was at the table,
eating a drippy piece of french toast; Haley sat beside him,
glasses perched low on her nose, chewing her lip in contemplation
of the crossword. When Simon entered, she looked up and tilted her
head, looking him over; her lips were still pursed and there was a
furrow between her brows. After a few moments he finally seemed to
pass muster and she looked up at his face again.

"There's toast," she said. Next to her, Dirk looked
up; his cheeks were fat and his mouth was shiny with syrup. "Unless
you don't want something sweet this early."

"Sweet's fine," he muttered. He
shuffled to the stack of them, grabbing himself a plate and a few
pieces. The space between his shoulder blades prickled, but when he
turned again, Haley had returned her attention to the crossword --
it was Dirk watching him now, chewing with what seemed like a slow
deliberateness. Something about his gaze was unnerving, and Simon
had to wonder for a split second if his sins were literally written
across his face:
I saw you
two
,
I dreamed
about you two, I want more than that.

Then Dirk swallowed and said, "There's syrup if you
want that too."

Instead of answering, Simon huffed and flounced for
the table. He sat next to Haley, which unfortunately put him across
from Dirk, stuffing a large bite into his mouth and hunching his
shoulders.

"Mom said they were going out to the lake today,"
Haley said, without looking up from her crossword. "They won't be
back till tomorrow, I think. She left some money if we want to
order out for dinner tonight."

"Baby," Dirk protested. "I can cook more than just
eggs."

"We could hit up the grocery store instead," she
agreed, and looked up to smile at him. Simon stared more resolutely
down at his plate, unsure of how much he wanted to see them so
comfortable with each other. When had that happened? Was it because
they'd slept together? How long had this been going on without him
noticing?

The rest of the meal passed the same way, with Simon
methodically eating to keep his mouth full and trying to tune out
the rest of the quiet conversation, troubled by his own thoughts --
but once he was finished, Haley stood, folding her newspaper up
again.

"It's the theater down on Main," she said. "We could
walk there. It's not supposed to be too hot today."

Dirk snorted as he rose as well, and Simon had to
wonder what was so funny -- Haley was wearing a white sundress that
cut off just below her knees, with pink roses and green vines
embroidered along the hem; it looked like the sort of thing that
wouldn't be hot even under the noonday summer sun. He didn't
elaborate, though, reaching to take her hand with an ease that
Simon envied. "C'mon," he said, and glanced over his shoulder at
Simon. "You got a problem with walking?"

He scowled, shooting to his feet in a single sharp
movement, nearly knocking his chair over. "Walking's fine! I don't
mind! Let's go!"

"Be nice," Haley chided before she reached out to
take Simon's hand with her other one. It was an unexpected gesture,
and it came so easily that he couldn't even protest, just reach to
accept it. Her fingers were cool against his, and softer than he
remembered.

The whole walk there passed in a blur, the sounds of
Haley's voice and Dirk's filtered just above background noise.
Simon spent the entire time watching his hand in hers, not quite
marveling at the whole package: the way her fingers interlocked
with his, slimmer and just a little paler, with neat oval nails
cropped short. He only snapped out of his daze when Haley pulled
away -- to pay for an obscenely large box of popcorn, which she
handed to him before taking a soda for herself.

They filed into the theater in a line, with Haley
leading the way and Simon in the middle. He walked just a half-step
too close behind her, crowding into the narrow aisle after her and
taking the immediate seat next to hers. For a moment he thought
Dirk might squeeze past them both, to sit on Haley's other side,
but instead he sat, half-dropping into the seat next to Simon's and
bending his knees up, resting his feet on the chair in front of
his. Commercials were still playing, occasionally flashing to
screens of stupid trivia questions, which Dirk answered under his
breath, in between the handfuls of popcorn he took from the box in
Simon's lap.