Stockholm Syndrome 3 - No Beginning, No End by Richard Rider Read Free Book Online Page A

as it'll go, then starts turning the round handle at the side to recline it. That'll have to do.
"This is-"
    "-a brilliant idea," Pip interrupts. He can't stop laughing, this is so stupid and uncomfortable and teenage . There's a bit more room now the seat is tilted back so far, more than enough space overhead for him to swing his leg over both of Lindsay's and settle there, shuffling closer at the hips and pressing into him so he can almost feel the rush of blood before Lindsay even starts getting properly hard. Lindsay's hands are in his hair again, one winding the long loose strands around his finger, the other resting at the nape of his neck. He always used to do that and Pip never quite knew whether it was meant to be control or protection or maybe a bit of both, but just the feel of it now, the heavy weight of Lindsay's hand and the heat of his skin, makes him feel dizzy. He can taste sweat on his upper lip already, the car's getting so stuffy and thick with their breathing. He finds the buttons to roll down the electric windows; that makes it cooler, but now they can hear the quiet crash of the waves down below. It's like before, that place they went the day he left the other two in Manchester and moved into Lindsay's house. Their first kiss, first groping hands, first blowjob. Later on that day back in Lindsay's house, their First Time. He always thought of it with capital letters, something momentous like D-Day or New Year's Eve.
    "Stop thinking," Lindsay says. His voice is rough and quiet. He uses the hand on Pip's neck to urge him to look up, right at him, although their faces are so close Pip can't focus and it's all a twilight blur of shapes. "I know what you're thinking, why does it matter?"
"It doesn't. It ain't a bad thing, just memories."
    "Kiss me." Like he needs telling. He settles down on Lindsay's body, reclined halfway between sitting and lying, and kisses him. It's slower this time, more relaxed as if they've both stopped panicking the other is going to run away. He feels Lindsay's fingers playing with the bottom hem of his t-shirt, gently tugging at the fabric, smoothing it down against the curve of his back, slipping just underneath to touch his skin. It goes on for ages and it's wonderful, Moonage Daydream right through to Suffragette City just kissing, barely even any tongue, just sharing breath. It's dark out by now and there aren't any lights in the carpark; the only illumination is from the dashboard and Lindsay's face is just black shadows and tinges of LED green and electronic orange.
    "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