Chapter Thirty Three
It felt weird to have Andrew’s arms around me in front of people who weren’t drug-fucked engineering students. Maybe they were all drug-fucked doctors? Nevins had sprayed red wine across the coffee table when Andrew had decided he was too pissed to still stand up, and had sat down on one of the gorgeous couches and pulled me into his lap.
Lin, on the other hand, had just looked smug, which made me wonder exactly how much she’d worked out for herself.
The food was good, and the three of us med students were made conspicuous by the enthusiasm with which we stuffed ourselves with it. Free food was almost as good as free booze.
Usually, if someone was passing around free buckets, I’d be in there, getting shit-faced, but I just passed the bong on to the giggling nurse beside me. I didn’t hand it to Andrew, whose lap I was still ensconced on, either. If he wanted three fucks, we were both going to have to sober up a little.
Sometime during the evening, when it was completely dark and tiny lights were glittering on the Thames, more people began to arrive, nurses coming off afternoon shift, doctors who had been at the strike and had then gone to do rounds. I recognised some of them from the ward.
Jane sat down wearily beside us, not even blinking at Andrew’s arm around my waist. She leaned her head back against the couch and groaned, then kicked her sneakers off and put her sock-clad feet up on the coffee table amongst the wine glasses and bottles.
“Mrs. Silva died,” she said, and Andrew’s hand tightened around my waist.
I remembered Mrs. Silva. Andrew had described her as a
’train wreck’, which apparently was the technical term for cascading multiple organ failure.
“Who pronounced?” Andrew asked. “It should have been me, but I couldn’t.”
“Jackie came in to do it when I rang him and explained you’d been fired,” Jane said, opening her eyes and taking the glass of wine that Dr. Seagate … F, I supposed I was allowed to call him now, handed her.
“No problems?” Andrew said cautiously.
“Nope.” She sighed as she drank her first mouthful of wine. “There’ll have to be a PM, but it’ll only be a perfunctory one. He took care of that. He also said to tell you to contact him, and he’ll write you the best damn reference anyone has ever seen.”
Andrew’s fingers slid up my neck and into my curls and drew tiny circles. “Thanks.” I melted against him, resting my head on his shoulder.
She glanced at me briefly, as though I was some kind of strange lizard she’d found under a rock, then turned her attention to the food on the table.
I had to wait to get into the bathroom until the pregnant woman had finished, so it was a relief to finally get in there.
The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the place, and I couldn’t resist having a snoop around. It would be useful to find some condoms and lube since I hadn’t brought my backpack with me today, and I hadn’t noticed Andrew carrying one either.
There were condoms in the cupboard, amongst the detritus of equipment presumably nicked from the hospital, so I took a couple, along with some examination gloves. I hunted through the rolls of surgical tape, steristrips, and debriding scissors, and found sachets of lube, so I took a couple of them, too, stuffing them into my pocket.
I picked up a roll of Microfoam tape and put that in the other pocket, grinning to myself in the mirror. Oh, yeah, I could use that tape.
Andrew stood silently in the middle of the guest room while I dragged one of the removal boxes the room was stacked with across the door to stop anyone from barging in.
I pulled the fancy bedcover off the bed and dumped that on the floor, then pulled the blankets down, too. If you were going to fuck in someone else’s bed, it was always a smart move to make sure the come only spread across the easily washable surfaces. That was a lesson I’d learnt the hard way.
I unbuttoned his shirt slowly, and it felt like I was peeling the layers off him, layers of worry and stress and sadness, when I unbuttoned the cuffs and slid his arms out of the fabric.
I didn’t look at his face, not at the moment when he exhaled slowly and deeply. I wanted to give him a moment to surrender first.
When I did look up from unbuttoning his belt, his eyes were closed and his tongue was protruding slightly between his teeth, so I kissed his mouth gently, kissing away the tension that was creasing his face, taking us both back to the place we had found at his house.
There was a stillness to this room now, more than an absence of motion, and it was this I wanted to give Andrew.
“Hold out your hands,” I whispered. There was a distant surge of laughter from the lounge room, and a clink of glasses.
Andrew lifted his hands for me, holding them out. I guided them together, turning his hands over so his wrists pressed together, then reached into my pocket for the surgical tape. I wound the tape gently around his wrists, binding them together, and Andrew whimpered.
It was all I could do not to just drop to my knees then, and blow him, so I took a step back and nodded at the bed with my head, not trusting my voice at that moment.
I knelt down and undid Andrew’s shoelaces and pulled his shoes off. They were scuffed at the toes and worn down at the heels. I pulled his socks off, circled my hands around his ankles, and slid my hands up to Andrew’s calves underneath his trousers.
He moaned when I sucked on the skin of his ankle and whispered, “Please, Matthew.”
I stood up and looked down at him, then tossed the supplies on the bed. His eyes were huge when they looked up at me and I traced his lips with one finger, then unbuttoned my shirt and dropped it on the floor.
I trod on the toe of each sock in turn, stepping out of them, then undid the top button of my fly. There was a lull in the background noise from the lounge room and my zip rasped loud in the room as I slid it down. I could hear Andrew’s breathing and my own.
“Fuck,” he whispered as my trousers slid off. I stepped closer, leaving behind the trousers, and he leaned forward, hands between his knees, and pressed his mouth over where my cock was stretching my underwear tight.
I ached; not just my cock, but all of me, ached for him.
The feel of his mouth, the wetness of his breath through the fabric, was agonizingly good so I let him mouth me, biting gently, licking so his tongue rasped against the cotton.
He looked up at me, mouth open, saliva stretching between his lips and I distantly heard the pop of a champagne cork and a cheer. I pushed my underwear slowly down and my cock bobbed out of confinement. Andrew leaned forward again in slow motion, taking the head of my cock into his mouth, sliding his tongue over the beads, pressing gently on them in a way that sent shivers through my entire body.
I held my cock steady for him, since his hands weren’t free, and he began to suck me slowly and gently, every touch and slide and lick feeling so good that it made me want to scream. I probably was going to scream eventually, it was kind of inevitable, but hopefully not for a good long while yet.
“Stop,” I whispered, and Andrew looked up at me, pausing with his mouth open, the head of my cock resting against his bottom lip.
“Stand up,” I said, stepping back to give him room.
He stood and I unbuckled his belt and undressed him. He looked painfully hard, the head of his cock deep red, but that was something I was going to fix for him.
We kissed and he let me take the lead, then I stacked the pillows against the headboard for him to lean against and pointed for him to get on the bed.
I knelt on the bed, too, pulled a pair of the scrounged gloves on, and carefully lubed up two of my fingers. I thought for a moment about lubing my whole hand but discarded the idea. For that, we needed more privacy, so that Andrew could scream the place down if he wanted to.
He spread his legs, giving me as much access as I wanted as I pressed the two fingers against his ass. I didn’t push in, not until I’d bent forward and taken the head of his cock into my mouth, too.
