Hi All,

Three weeks in a row flashing with with the Free Fiction Friday Group!

Sometimes I shock even myself!



( IYLS )



David and Jesse are childhood friends who get separated in their teens but meet up again at university in Newcastle, Australia.

They soon find out that though some things remain the same, other change… oh boy, do they change.




“Erik, I lo−” His fingers gently covered my mouth before I could finish my sentence.

“Shh, baby, we can’t say those words. It will only make it harder.” His voice was a husky croak, his eyes gentle and soft, and whether he said the words or not, I knew he loved me.

Just as I did him.

He was my first love.

My first love, who, I would shortly lose.

God, why did it seem like I was always losing or leaving those that I loved? First my father, then Jeremy, and now Erik.

Cupping his face in my hands, totally uncaring of the people around us, I pressed my lips to his, my tongue seeking entry. A soft whimper fell from me as his unique taste burst inside my mouth one last time. More tears escaped as I felt his hands in my hair and on the small of my back as he pressed himself to me.

And then he was gone, his final words echoing in my head.

Such ordinary words.

“I will call.”



Past (Begins at Christmas, with David aged 19.5 years of age)

Looking at the spread laid out before me, I shook my head—there was enough to feed an army. We’d be eating the turkey and roast vegetables for days. Mum always went the whole nine yards with Christmas even though it was usually just the two of us. I never said anything because it would just hurt her feelings, and I knew she did it for me. Sighing inwardly, I turned away from the table and headed back to the kitchen to help bring the rest of the food out. Even if I’d actually had an appetite it was so freakin’ hot that it seemed ridiculous to be sitting down to a roast dinner.

“Do you feel like a beer instead of wine, David, seeing as it’s so hot, love?” she questioned as she bent over, her head in the fridge.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Here, can you make me a shandy while you’re at it?” she asked, passing me the lemonade and a couple of bottles of beer.

“Jeez, way to wreck a good beer, Mum,” I teased, trying to get into the Christmas spirit. I just felt so flat and depressed.

“You know me.” She shrugged, smiling and winking at me. “Cheap drunk!”

Between us we carried the last of the food and drinks to the table, sitting in our usual places—Mum at the head and me to her right. As I waited for her to dish up some of the meat on both our plates, I looked about our combined lounge and dining area.

“The house looks great, Mum,” I complimented her and meant it. She really had outdone herself with the Chrissie decorating. Golden garlands were strung over every doorway and window frame seeming to zero in on the massive tree in the corner. It was a splash of twinkling gold—no need to try and guess what the inspiration for her theme was this year.

“Thanks, honey, now come on. Eat up before it gets cold,” she admonished me, making me realize I hadn’t dished myself up any vegies or gravy.

We chatted lightly and easily while we ate and I appreciated that she avoided mentioning Erik—his departure was still a little too fresh for me to be able to talk about him. I filled her in on my plans with Bobbi the next day and she got all excited as she told me of hers to go shopping and reap some bargains in the Boxing Day Sales. What was it with women and shopping? Even if I lived to be one hundred, I still didn’t think I’d get it. I mean, really, how many shoes and dresses did one woman need? If Mum’s closet was any indication—effing tons!


“It will get better, David. I promise you.” Bobbi spoke quietly, giving my knee a light squeeze as we sat on one of the many benches along the bicycle path that skirted the lake. “When Richard first left, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. It was so awful, and I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about it.” I gripped her hand as she looked out over the blue of the water. “But over time it got more manageable and now I’m okay. Sure it still makes me sad to think of him and what might have been, but I’m not hurting all day every day like I used to. It will get better for you, too. Just give it time.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. God, I hoped she was right.

“Come on, Sadler. You told me you’d buy me an ice cream. It’s so freakin’ hot, I think you might have to shout me a double cone!” Giving my shoulder a playful nudge, she got up and walked toward our bikes.

“Where the hell do you put all the food you consume, Paterson? There’s nothing of you!” I teased, trying to drag myself out of the dumps that I’d been in for the last twelve days since Erik had flown out.


Man, it’s hot!

Untying my work apron and shoving it in the back pocket of my jeans, I hummed and hawed about whether to go to the Bogey Hole or Dixon Park Beach for a swim. The Bogey Hole was closer, but would mean I had to ride up a huge ass hill. Still, at least, it would be cooler and offer some protection from the sun, which was still beating down hot as hell, despite it being four in the afternoon. Not for the first time in my life I cursed my pale skin. So much for being a bronzed Aussie!

“Okay, I’m off, Howie. I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven,” I called out as I carried my bike through the shop to the entry.

“Sure, kid, see you then,” he called back.

Slipping my helmet over my baseball cap, I pushed off, joining the traffic on Darby Street. The turn-off into Tyrell Street was only a two hundred yards down the road and I sighed, bracing myself for the steep climb up its length to King Edward Park.

As I ascended the sharp incline with my muscles screaming in protest, the houses became more affluent. The suburb was called The Hill and was one of the more posh areas of the city, offering great views over the city and the beaches. It was filled with lots of old terraces and mansions that had been renovated, giving them a new lease on life.

After what seemed an age, but was really only a few minutes, I crested the hill and hung a right into Wolfe Street, the tall pines that skirted much of the park clearly visible directly in front of me. On the spur of the moment, I decided to leave my bike at the top car park and take the stairs down to the Bogey Hole—at least that way I wouldn’t have to ride up another hill after my swim.

Eager now, with the end in sight, I picked up my pace, appreciating the way the wind penetrated my thin t-shirt and whipped the sweat from my forehead. As I coasted around one of the sweeping bends of the road that wound its way through the park, my eyes registered a guy bending into the open door of his sporty looking little red Mitsubishi Galant. Mmm, nice car and even nicer butt. I grinned to myself. Jacking off the previous night, for the first time in a couple of months, to thoughts of Erik had obviously re-awakened my dormant libido. I smiled, taking that as a good sign.

Chaining my bike to the guardrail, I grabbed my towel from my satchel and slung it around my neck. I couldn’t wait to get my hot, sweaty ass in the cool water.


“David, we spoke about this.” His voice sounded tinny through the headset.

“I know we did, Erik. It’s just I… I don’t know… I suppose I didn’t think it would be so soon,” I ended lamely, feeling a weight settle in my chest and a lump form in my throat.

“I need to get over you, David. I need to be able to look at you as a friend and not my boyfriend,” he whispered and I could hear the pain in his voice. “This is the only way I know how.”

“I’m sorry,” I croaked, not really sure what I was apologizing for. “Look, I have to go now… I need to get my head around this, so I won’t be in touch for a while. I… um… I need some space. I’ll let you know when I can be just a friend, okay?”

“Okay. I’m sorry, David. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know, Erik. I know,” I whispered, needing to get off the line before I lost it.

Ripping the headset off, I threw myself face down on my bed, torn between the desire to cry and wanting to pummel something. Erik was going out on a date. Some stupid romantic part of me had hoped we’d somehow work something out. He obviously didn’t believe that was possible.

Time to move on, Sadler. Time to really put those stupid, childish ideas of yours to bed.

Rolling over, I stared at the ceiling wondering how one actually went about turning off their emotions.


“Jesus, who the hell does Sam think he is? John Fucking Travolta?” I laughed, almost spitting out my beer as I watched the big guy pull out his disco moves. We were out celebrating the end of exams for the semester and my twentieth birthday, which was the next day.

“At least he’s dancing, Sadler,” retorted Bobbi with an unladylike snort, her foot tapping and her hips swaying to the loud, pumping music. “And from the look of that girl over there, she likes the way he’s shakin’ his booteh!”

“Okay, you win, Paterson,” I growled, slamming my drink down on the table and grabbing her hand, forcing her to abandon hers as well. Dragging her to the dance floor, I jammed my knee between her jean clad thighs and proceeded to dry hump her leg, grinding my cock into her hip as I arched her over in a move that would have made Patrick Swayze proud.

Bobbi laughed up at me, undulating her body against mine as I brought her back up. We hammed it up to hoots and hollers from the crowd surrounding the dance area, both of us drunk enough to lose all inhibition. Sliding our hands and bodies up and down each other, we swayed and bumped and ground to the beat—it was like having sex with your clothes on.

“Now, if only you liked pussy, David!” Bobbi teased, her breath hot on my neck.

“Yeah, and if only you had a nice big cock, you’d be perfect!” I retorted, grabbing her waist and arching her backward before swinging her in a semi-circle and back up. The crowd loved it and a big cheer ricocheted around the room.

We kept it up until the big guy interrupted, placing a big paw on each of our shoulders. “Come on, you two fucking exhibitionists, let’s go to Darby’s and see if we can get Howie to shout us a burger. I’m freakin’ starving.


Well, here it was. Christmas again. A year had passed since Erik had left and I’d survived. Sure, I still missed him like hell and thought about him way too much, but I wasn’t heartbroken anymore. I was resigned to the fact my first love would not be my only love. I was young; plenty of time for me to meet someone else. I hadn’t come across anyone who knocked me for six the way Erik had when we first met, and I wasn’t dating—unless my regular sessions with free online porn counted—but, hey, that would come.

I could have had umpteen casual one-night stands, had I been so inclined, but they weren’t my thing either. They made me think too much of my dad and the way he’d fucked around on Mum. No way known did I want to be anything like my father.

There was also a visiting lecturer, Laurence Coulter, who I took flying most weekends. The poor bastard had a phobia about flying in small planes, and yet he’d accepted a position with the Royal Flying Doctor Service when his stint at the uni was up. He certainly was interesting with his stories of Africa where he’d been a volunteer doctor for a few years. With every sight and experience he told me about, I’d imagine it was Jeremy.

I knew he liked me. I could see it in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking. One word or look of encouragement from me and I was pretty sure he’d ask me out. So why was I hesitating? I couldn’t put my finger on the reason. The guy was intelligent, witty, and good looking. Really good-looking, actually, in a blond movie star kind of way. He was a couple of inches shorter than me and almost as fair as Erik, with gentle gray eyes. He was right up my alley, but for some reason I hadn’t given him the sign he seemed to be waiting for. Maybe, I just wasn’t ready yet to step out on that limb again.

Dragging my thoughts back to the present, I smiled as I looked about the house. Mum’s theme was all silver and crystal and I had to admit, it did look kind of magical. She’d loved the earrings, book, and theatre tickets I’d bought her, and I don’t know how she managed it, but I had a new laptop.

At least, it wasn’t so hot this year. It was proving to be a fairly wet summer, so our traditional roast wasn’t going to make me sweat like a pig.

Looking at Mum as she took a sip of her wine, I felt a wave of love for her flow through me. Losing Erik had taught me a really valuable lesson—when you love someone you should let them know, because you never knew when, or if, you were going to lose them.

Reaching for her hand, feeling a bit of an idiot, but needing to say it anyway, I softly told her, “I love you, Mum,” as the heat seared my cheeks.

She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering, “I know you do, honey. I love you, too.”


Author’s Note

LOL, blubbering again!

I’d loved to hear your thoughts!

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