Heart and Desire (boyxboy)

Chapter Five

Oli's POV:

"Mummy!" I yelled from the stairs, "Help me, I'm dying!"

I'd made the smart decision to slide down the stairs on my stomach this morning, finding myself stuck half-way down the carpeted steps, unable to shuffle down the rest of the way. I had a strip of carpet burn on my stomach and was in dire need of a rescue. Ash had woken up early this morning to go for a run; I had groggily declined his inconsiderate offer, pouting at him in my sleepy state. How rude, waking me up early during the summer break to make me physically exert myself! There was only one type of physical activity I wanted to do with Ashton, and it didn't involve running.

"Mum! Help!" I yelled louder, flailing my arms about desperately. My mum had arrived home in the small hours of the morning, clambering about in her drunken state, crashing and banging through the kitchen, speaking loudly to her date. I assume she had a good time last night...

My mother finally appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hands on hips disapprovingly; "How old are you?"

She didn't look amused in the slightest. I was laughing hysterically, waving my arms at her, rolling on my tummy like a turtle stuck on its back. She huffed, grabbing my hands and pulling me down the rest of the stairs. I cried out dramatically as the carpet scorched my stomach again. She released my hands and I laid in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, groaning. I saw a hint of a smile on my mum's face, despite her stoic facade.

"What's going on over here?" I heard a stranger's voice say. A brunette head peered over the banister, his arms wrapping around my mum's waist. Harry was decidedly hot, with lightly tanned skin, rippling muscles, and mysterious coffee-coloured eyes. Damn, if my mum wouldn't go there, I sure would. I mean... Don't tell Ashton!

"My son's being an idiot." My mum explained.

"Am not!" I pouted, then broke into a satisfied beam when Harry laughed. I liked this guy. I stood up and reached a hand out for him to shake, "I'm Oli. Are you staying much longer?"

"Actually, Harry was just leaving." My mum answered for him abruptly before he could reach to shake my hand, and she pushed her date towards the front door.

"I was? Rachel, you've just made breakfast..." She ignored him, barely giving him chance to pull on his shoes before pushing him over the threshold of our front door, shutting it in his bewildered face. I gaped at my mum, as lost for words as Harry had been.

"Wha-? He..." I paused, swallowing heavily, "He was nice." I forced a smile, certain I would never grow used to my mother's eccentric ways.

"We didn't hit it off." She answered quickly. I knew she was lying; they had seemed to get on well enough last night, and I'd heard them joking and flirting together in the kitchen this morning. I sighed, shaking my head. Maybe she still wasn't ready to start dating again. After all, it had only been four years. I groaned and mentally rolled my eyes.

There was a knock on the door and both my mum and I tensed. Harry sure had some balls. A fire blazed in my mum's eyes as she turned on her heel and stormed to the front door, flinging it open, ready to shout in his face.

"I told you to-! Oh. Sorry, Ashton. Come in." Disappointment replaced the fury in her eyes; secretly she had hoped Harry would fight for her. My mum huffed loudly then turned to stomp up the stairs to her bedroom, presumably to change out of her pajamas, slamming the door with a force that made the walls shake. Ashton arched an eyebrow, confused, but knew better than to question my mother's strange behaviour.

I took Ashton's hand, pulling his sexy, sweaty body against mine, reaching onto my tiptoes to press my lips against his - he was only two inches taller than me, but I liked to milk it a little. I would definitely be bottom. His cheeks were flushed with red from his run and he seemed out of breath, like he'd been sprinting. Ashton had told me he was going to go for a run most mornings during the six weeks we had off school, and I could tell he was glad I didn't want to join him, as much as he pretended otherwise. I would only slow him down, I guess. I'd never been one for sports that didn't involve balls.