Stockholm Syndrome 3 - No Beginning, No End (6 page)

"I love you," Pip says, breathless, heart thumping, touching Lindsay's face with the back of his fingers. Lindsay reaches to hold his hand and bring it closer to his mouth so he can kiss it.

"You don't have to say it all the time."
"I want to. You need to know."
"I know."
"I have to tell you."
"You don't. I know."

"But..." He wrenches his hand free and thumps it against the car door, frustrated and wordless. "You don't
know
."

 

"You're not making any sense."

"That's
it
, I can't make words work, how can you know? I love Hawksley Workman and fast cars and candy floss and Miyazaki too, it ain't the same kind of love but I can't like... make you know cos I don't know what words."

"Philip-"
"Don't call me that."
"Sweetheart."

He almost bursts into tears then. The urge and the memories are so sudden and strong. "Don't call me that, either."

Lindsay doesn't speak. This whole time he's had his hand there resting on the back of Pip's neck underneath his hair, warm and comfortable. He moves it now, down Pip's t-shirt to rub his back. He does it so naturally and comfortably like he always used to, like nothing's changed even though it has. "What's wrong with you?" he says quietly, but it's not like an accusation or like he's annoyed. That's sort of worse than if he was, it's making Pip's words stick in his throat and tumble out sounding nothing like they're meant to.

"Stop being nice to me."
"Tell me what you want."
"I don't
know
what I want!"

"So now we're stuck, because I don't know how to make you feel better if you can't tell me what's wrong."

There's so much he
could
say but everything sounds trite. You can't pack a world of love and terror and regret and happiness into three stupid crappy little words. He gives up instead, furiously wiping his eyes dry with his palms and shoving Lindsay back against his seat to kiss him again. It's different now, it's hard and forceful as if clacking teeth is the snapping switch that's going to suck all the fog out of his brain. The album finishes and jumps onto the next playlist, something hideously cheerful by McFly that even Pip's not in the mood for just now. He slams the button to turn off the stereo and mashes his mouth back on Lindsay's, banging noses and fighting tongues. It's deadly quiet now without the music on, just the sound of the waves below and their own breathing, half-murmured questions and answers before Lindsay lifts Pip's t-shirt and drags it off over his head and Pip starts unbuttoning Lindsay's shirt. He feels a bit better when it's skin on skin instead of cotton on linen, no little plastic buttons between them, just warm bare skin and the shifting muscles beneath. It's calming, the friction of their sweat every time they move, Lindsay's fingers trailing softly over his naked back and making him twist and squirm.

"I don't wanna live where you don't no more," he says, losing the words into Lindsay's neck as the fingers tracing the bumps of his spine and the dimples above his arse make him writhe like a worm. "This is stupid, I don't wanna just
go
places with you, I wanna be with you all the time, I don't care, I don't want a normal boyfriend like everyone else, if you wanna move back to France I don't even care, I just wanna be with you."

"Don't be pathetic, it only suited you when you were nineteen." He's so hard behind the fly of his jeans, though. Pip unfastens the button and slides the zip down and Lindsay makes an odd noise in his throat, a plea or an order but they're both unnecessary anyway because Pip's already touching him, little sliding circles with his palm. "Don't stop."

"As if I'm gonna stop." He has to after a minute, only so he can move to the passenger seat and slide it back like Lindsay's to give them more room. "Take your jeans off."

"Are you telling me what to do?"

"You said don't be pathetic. Take your jeans off
now
. Or just pull them down." He unzips his boots and kicks them off so he can peel his skinnies down his legs and off, still with his pants inside. "Voila."

It's still too dark to see much but he can hear Lindsay muttering something and feel the motion of the car as he lifts himself up and shoves his trousers down round his ankles. Pip reaches out for him, landing his hand somewhere on Lindsay's thigh and inching it up to his cock, already hard and pointing up at the car roof like an arrow. He makes a noise when Pip starts stroking him with his fingers curled loosely around, a desperate sort of laughing gasp through gritted teeth. Pip smiles too, he can't help it, he's never going to tire of making Lindsay do those noises, but it's not enough; he needs to
see
, and he fumbles up near the rear view mirror for the little light switch.

Bad idea, it turns out. Depending on your feelings about such things. Two minutes in to a slow, teasing blowjob, all tiny feather kisses and little kittenish licks like Lindsay only ever got on his birthday before because he was too embarrassed to ask for anything that wasn't quick and rough and Pip wasn't going to let him get away with being such a twat, there's the swoop of headlights somewhere behind them. Lindsay swears and nearly breaks the light in his haste to turn it off, then he sits there still as death for a moment with his fingers clutched tight in Pip's hair as if he thinks not moving is going to make them invisible.

"Can you stop squashing the do?"
"Shut up. Someone's there."

"I ain't blind. What do you expect, bringing me up some strange road to bang me in a carpark? It's probably Kent's number one dogging site."

"Fuck." "Yeah, that's kind of the idea, I reckon."

"Shut up." He relaxes his hand a bit, and Pip sits up to peer through the darkness at the other car before its headlights go off. "Ugh, fucking hell, who goes dogging in a
Mondeo
?"

"I'm actually going to kill you. Shush." Pip moves out the way so the window doesn't skim his nose off when Lindsay rolls it up. "Get dressed."

"What for? They're miles away, let me finish."

He's saying it to tease and wind Lindsay up... mostly. That's what he intended, but as soon as the words are out there he feels a disgusting little thrill ripple through him. He's been watched before. The first time he ever got a blowjob was off some man who offered to share a cab with him one night and then started kissing him in the back seat. He was only fifteen, the man must have been twice his age, he must have
known
Pip was too young and that made him a sick freak who really should have been reported, but the sensible part of his brain got stamped out like a little fire by the more insistent part and he just let it carry on; he leaned against the side of the car with his arms round the man's neck, he didn't pull away when the man held his wrist in a vice grip while he opened his own trousers then put Pip's hand there, he didn't complain when the man got come all up his arm, he didn't say no when the man went down on his knees in front of the seat and pulled Pip's jeans down and sucked him off. He knew it was vile and wrong but that didn't seem to matter, it was good too, and where else was he going to get it anyway? Kids at school were copping off all the time, Olly already had two babies, but everybody he knew was straight except some boys he'd fooled round with at Scout camp. Why not? So he'd not just gone with it because he was too scared of getting murdered to say no, he'd played along like a proper professional little whore, making porn noises and exaggerated faces as they drove round the dark streets. When he came it was stopped at a red light with traffic whooshing past in front, holding the accomplice driver's eyes in the rearview mirror and watching him bite his lip until it was bloodless and white. After, when he really had time to
think
about what just happened, he wondered whether he'd ruined their fun by not being frightened or fighting but that just made him hard again and he felt sick and guilty so he went online and wanked to porn instead. As well as that, there were all those times in club toilets before he knew Lindsay, getting off with men whose names he didn't know and looking up from kneeling on the scummy floor to see the top half of somebody's head peeking over the top of the cubicle from the one next door, balancing on the toilet seat because nobody wants to put their eye near a glory hole. And all those times with Olly, kissing at parties for whooping leering girls and pretending it was a really funny naughty joke...

"You love this, don't you?"

Lindsay's trying to drag his jeans back up and start the car at the same time but Pip snatches his hand away from the ignition and steals the keys. "What's the problem? They're total strangers, you'll never have to see them again, no point being embarrassed or nothing."

"I'm... you're completely missing the point. Give me the keys. Now."

"Or maybe I'll just do
this
instead," he murmurs, trying to make a show of it. Lindsay always pretended to hate it when he acted up like this before but it never genuinely made him want to stop; it's the same now, his cock is wet and rock hard and he draws in a harsh hissing breath when Pip leans over and starts kissing him again. It's one of those stupid things he always did because porn told him it was a good idea: little delighted noises like nothing in the world was as wonderful as having a gobful of another man's dick, not just using his hands and mouth but rubbing his cheek against it too like a cat. Lindsay laughs but he doesn't sound amused, just baffled and terrified.

"I hate when you do that."
"So how come you're so wet?"
"Stop talking."

It's too dark to see him properly, Pip wants to see his face. "Turn the light back on," he says, pressing a trail of tiny kisses right down his shaft and licking up again in a wide wet line.

Lindsay's got his hand scrunched in Pip's hair again like he can't decide whether to shove him down and choke him or push him away. "What if it's some poor innocent family wanting a picnic?"
"At half eleven at night in the middle of nowhere? Come on."

He breathes out very slowly. "You make me crazy," he mutters, and snaps the little light back on.

Nothing happens. Lindsay's got his elbow in the rim of the door, pressed against the closed window so he can hide his face from the other car. Everything's quiet, they can barely even hear the sea now the windows are shut. It's just their breathing and the gentle sucking noise of Pip working his tongue. He's starting to think the other car might be terrified innocents after all – or a police car, he suddenly thinks, and laughs with a throatful of cock so he gags and has to pull away. After everything Lindsay's done, if the thing he got done for was fucking in a public place and offending people who shamelessly own a Ford Mondeo...

"Shit," Lindsay says. He sounds calm, but the way he's still trying to cover his face gives him away. "They're driving closer." "Told you. Get into it a bit, they'll be pissed off if they don't get a good show."

"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I hate you so fucking much."

"Shut up." He shuts up willingly enough when Pip starts sucking him properly, none of the casual gentle teasing from before but long, wet strokes. Pip hears the sound of a car door opening, Lindsay cursing under his breath. He's too low down to see out the window but he can tell the light is on in the other car now. "What's happening?"

"You shit, don't stop, just let's get it over with and get out of here."

 

"I wanna know what's happening, who's there?"

Lindsay's hand tightens in his hair, forcing his mouth down. "There's a man and a woman. She's in the driver seat... fucking
staring
, she's horrible, she's old, it's like Dot Cotton. The man's round your side... oh Jesus, he's wanking. If he gets anything on my car I swear to god I'm running him over and you with him, you little bastard, I'll never forgive you for this."

He has to look up the second Lindsay relaxes his grip a bit, he's too curious not to. He's not sure what he's expecting but what he actually sees is just strange and hilarious, a man in a shirt and tie with skinny bare legs having a wank eight inches away from him behind a bit of glass. He gets a serious gigglefit, he can't help it.

"She ain't
that
old," he manages to say, but then the woman starts lifting up her skirt and he screeches and dives back on Lindsay with his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see whatever it is she's doing. "What if they wanna join in?" he says after a minute, pulling off with an obscene smacking noise. "You can have the bird, I'll have Mr Spindlylegs over here."

Lindsay pulls his hair hard. "No."
"Come on, I was just kidding."
"Horrible things keep happening to me because of you." "You wanna fuck me?"

"No," Lindsay says again, but he hesitates first and that means yes.

 

"Bet you don't think it's funny no more I carry johnnies and lube round in my wallet, do you?"

 

"Shut your mouth. Give me it."

He can't figure out how it's going to work, where they're going to position themselves. There's something a bit sexy about getting fucked over the bonnet but Lindsay's always such a baby about things maybe damaging his paintwork, and anyway that old woman might think it's okay to climb on then and it really really isn't. He finds his wallet in the door pocket and hands it over, trying to remember if he's ever seen any porn about fucking in cars. Plenty
on
, none that he can remember
in
.

"Can your seat move back any more?"

 

Pip reaches down to pull on the lever again, shooting the chair back another few inches. "That's your lot."

"Have to do." Lindsay's far too tall to be clambering round inside a locked car trying to stick bits of his body up somebody else. Pip's laughing helplessly by the time he actually manages it, pressing Pip back into his seat, but he stops when he feels Lindsay's cock nudging up against his arse, wet and cool from the lube. "Can't reach to sort you out, you'll have to put up with it," he snaps, as if Pip should be
apologising
for getting him laid or something, like fucking is a bad thing or some massive chore he's not going to actually enjoy. He rams in hard and suddenly like it's a punishment or something, and Pip makes an accidental noise of protest until Lindsay bites down hard on his lower lip and shuts him up.