AUTHOR: Nikki Harrington
FANDOM: Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman
PAIRING: A. J. Raffles/Harry 'Bunny' Manders
SUB-GENRE: First Time
SUMMARY: Set during Raffles and Bunny's time at school. A storm brings down part of the ceiling in the fourth form dorm and the house master instructs the upper sixth form boy to take their fags with them to spend the night in their studies. At least that is where he had intended the younger boys to sleep.
WORD COUNT: 8,125
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story contains consensual (and given the era in which it is set legal in turns of age) school boy touching. If this is not your thing, please do not read the story. My thanks go to the lovely caffyolay who is my very own 'Good Enabler' for her part in making this story see the light of day.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time. I do, however, own the original characters in this story.
The sound of thunder crashing jolted me awake and as I opened my eyes the entire dorm was lit up as a flash of lightning blazed past the window. All around me I heard the noise of boys awakening and sitting up. I heard soft moans coming from parts of the dorm, I think I even heard the odd sob or two, and I definitely heard the sounds of some boys moving from their beds to get into bed with other boys.
I am afraid of many things but storms have never troubled me, quite the opposite in fact - I love them, especially autumn storms. Thus, I sat up in bed and turned around to look out of the window that was behind my bed and watched the rain lash against the window, watched more lightning split the sky and heard the thunder crash. From the noise and the lack of time between the flashes and the crashes, I guessed the storm was right over the school, over the dorm in fact.
And then there was another crash, a scream and the sound of something falling. The next second I felt Ollie grab my hand and hold it tightly and in spite of not being afeared of storms I found myself clinging to him in return. As yet another flash lit up the room I, along with several other boys, cried out in horror as we turned to the far end of the dorm and saw part of the ceiling had come down.
I threw back my bed covers and automatically grabbed my dressing gown, pulling it on as the sound of boys running made me glance towards the door of the dorm. In raced three upper sixth boys: Raffles, Charleston and Carter Major. They all held a lamp and they all stared in horror at the end of the dorm.
"Alex!" Carter Major cried, and began to run towards the end of the dorm where the ceiling had fallen; I remembered his younger brother's bed was at that end of the dorm. In spite of my fear I turned and would have followed him, but Ollie held onto me.
"Come on, boys," Charleston cried, already hurrying down the dorm and pulling boys out of their beds. "Get out of here, now."
Raffles put the lamp he was carrying down on my bedside locker, grabbed me with one hand and Ollie with the other and hurried us out into the corridor. "Stay there!" he ordered as he turned and ran back into the dorm.
"Raffles!" I cried, and I know I would have followed him had Ollie not grabbed me, clung to me and held me back.
At that moment Dobson, pulling his dressing gown on over his night-shirt with Harrison at his side ran up from the direction of his rooms; at the same time more upper sixth boys ran from the opposite direction. "What happened?" Dobson demanded.
"The storm, sir," I managed, still trying to get away from Ollie's surprisingly tight grip. "It's brought down part of the ceiling, sir."
"Stay here, all of you!" Dobson ordered, grabbing the lamp Harrison held and hurrying into the dorm.
In ones, twos and threes, boys began to appear from the dorm, as Raffles, Charleston and Dobson hastened them out. Some stood clinging to one another, others found the boys they fagged for and either just stood shivering next to them or clung to them. I just stared at the door to the dorm; I was willing Raffles and Charleston to not only appear but also to stay out in the hall in safety.
A loud noise from inside the dorm had us all crying out in shock and fear and I no longer fought to get away from Ollie; I just clutched him tightly and tried not to shake too much. A second and more protracted noise had us crying out again and grabbing one another more tightly. Even upper sixth boys who hadn't offered any comfort to the younger boys paled and more than one put their hands on the younger boy's shoulders, even if only for a second or two.
Finally Raffles appeared with Alexander Carter in his arms; he was followed by Charleston who had his arm around Carter's elder brother to whom he was talking soothingly but loudly. "He's all right, Andrew, A. J.'s got him. He's fine. Look, here he is. I tell you he's fine. He's badly shaken, but he's not hurt." Raffles put Carter Minor, who was trembling and appeared to have plaster dust all over him, down onto his feet, held him to steady him for a moment before his brother extracted himself from Charleston's grip and pulled Carter Minor into his arms, holding him tightly and murmuring his name repeatedly, as in turn his trembling brother clung onto him.
Raffles brushed plaster dust from his hands and dressing gown before coming over to where Ollie and I still stood. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closely against him and rested his other hand on Ollie's shoulder and gently tugged him back until he too was resting against Raffles. Charleston followed Raffles and stood on my other side, as he also brushed his dressing gown and hands down.
Finally Dobson with a lamp still in his hand appeared and closed the door behind him. He glanced around at us; he seemed to be doing a swift head count. He then handed the lamp to Harrison and pulled a sheet of paper from his dressing gown pocket and called out each of our names, raising his voice at times as the thunder clapped overhead.
After all the fourth formers replied to their names Dobson, partly to my surprise, pulled out another sheet of paper and called out the names of the upper sixth form. His relief that all of the boys were safe was obvious, and for the first time since I'd joined the school just over a year ago, I realised that in spite of his demeanour and what seemed to be a permanent glare and frown and an air of always being irritated by us, Dobson actually cared a great deal about the boys in his charge.
We all just stood there in the hallway; no one seemed to know what was going to happen next as finally the storm began to retreat. One final loud overhead clap of thunder, the sound of what I assumed to be more of the ceiling falling down inside the door, cries from boys, a final shot of lightning against the window and silence fell.
"Wait here, all of you," Dobson said, turning to look in particular at Raffles and Charleston as he took the lamp he'd given to Harrison, went to the door of the dorm, listened for a moment or two, before carefully opening it and going back inside.
We fourth formers all gasped at the bravery of our house master and I managed to get my arm around Raffles's waist and without being consciously aware of it I gripped Charleston's arm with my other hand. I saw Raffles and Charleston glance at one another over my head and I tightened the grip I had on both of them; I was determined that if either of them moved I would stop them from following Dobson into the dorm. However, after a moment Charleston turned his gaze away from Raffles, patted my hand and put his hand on my shoulder as we all just stood waiting and watching.
Finally, brushing plaster off his dressing gown, Dobson came back out into the hall and closed the dorm firmly behind him. "I don't think any more of the ceiling is going to come down," he said. "However, it is quite clear the boys cannot sleep in their dormitory tonight." He glanced around the groups of boys, some still standing very close together, Carter Major now had his arm around his brother's shoulders; Alex was still pale and was shaking slight as he pressed himself as closely as he could against his elder brother. "Are you boys all right?" Dobson asked, looking around at all of us again.
"Yes, sir," we murmured.
"Are any of you hurt? Carter, is your brother all right?"
"Yes, sir. He's shaken, but he'll be fine."
"Do you want to take him to Matron?"
"No, sir. Thank you, sir. He'd rather be with me and, sir, it is still raining very heavily."
"Very well." Again Dobson looked around the hall, this time he stared at the sixth formers. "Sixth formers, you'll take your fags to your studies with you and they can sleep on your sofas tonight."
"I'm taking Alex with me, sir," Carter Major said firmly, as he pulled his brother a little bit closer to him. Dobson gave him a brief nod.
"I'll take Jackson then," Galloway, for whom Carter Minor fagged, said. Carter Major gave him a quick smile.
"That will be fine," Dobson said. Then he turned to Charleston. "Charleston, I'm putting you in charge of handing out sheets, blankets and pillows from the stores."
"Yes, sir. And I can take Urquhart with me, if that will help, sir. Gregory is in the San, so my sofa will be unoccupied."
Dobson nodded. Ollie glanced at me, a look of concern on his face. I smiled at him, hoping to reassure him that Charleston was a perfectly nice boy and Ollie would be quite safe with him. I knew that Ollie knew that really, after all he knew Charleston was Raffles's best friend and knew Raffles would not have a friend who wasn't kind to younger boys. But given the events of the evening, I could quite understand his look of concern. "That leaves five boys, I believe. Well four of you will have to sleep in the sick room off my rooms; the fifth can sleep on the sofa in my study."
"Sir?" A faint, slightly quivering voice came from behind the main group of boys. I recognised it as Timothy Williams's, one of the Williams twins.
Dobson frowned. "Yes, Williams?"
"It's just that Tom and I can share a bed, sir. We've done it before, sir," he added quickly. "That way you won't be disturbed, sir."
I watched Dobson stare at both Williams who stood, as they often did, closely together. It was almost impossible to tell them apart, at least by looking at them. The thing that mainly distinguished them was their voices; Tim's not having broken yet. I wondered if Dobson was going to agree to them sharing a bed.
Finally after what seemed like several minutes, but I'm sure wasn't, Dobson said, "Very well, Williams."
"Thank you, sir." I watched the other three boys who, along with Ollie did not have a sixth former to look after, look at one another, breathe obvious sighs of relief and flash smiles at the Williams twins when they realised none of them would have to sleep in Dobson's study.
"Well," Dobson said his tone slightly sharp, I realised that no one had yet moved. "Off you go. And, sixth formers, remember the younger boys will be in your care. They will be your responsibility until morning."
"Yes, sir." Some voices were clearer than others, and some contained a hint of quiet displeasure, and even disrespect, as everyone began to move.
As we headed towards the sixth form studies I heard some of the sixth formers muttering somewhat more loudly their displeasure about having to take their fags with them. Aldridge in particular said a couple of very unpleasant things.
I felt Raffles stiffen at Aldridge's words and his arm dropped from around my shoulders; he moved forwards and stopped Aldridge by putting his hand on his arm and said something to him. I didn't hear what he said, as when he had taken his arm from around me and had strode towards Aldridge, I'd stopped walking and was now waiting for him either to return to me or to call me to him. I could, however, hear his tone; he was very displeased with what Aldridge had said. I also wasn't able to hear Aldridge's reply, but his cheeks flushed and he shook Raffles's hand off his arm and glared at Raffles.
"I mean it," I heard Raffles say, his tone flat as he met, held and returned Aldridge's glare. For a moment I thought Aldridge was going to say something else, but then he flashed Raffles a look of pure dislike and walked off. Raffles returned to my side and again put his arm around my shoulders and we continued on our way towards the sixth form studies.
Before we reached the studies we came to the store cupboard where Charleston stood handing a sheet, a blanket and a pillow to each sixth form boy. Ollie was hovering by his side and I could see he wasn't quite certain what he should be doing. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me.
Most of the boys had already gone into the studies, in fact only the Carter brothers, Charleston and Ollie and Raffles and I remained. Charleston held out a sheet, blanket and pillow to Carter Major, however, he shook his head. "Thanks, Charleston," he said, glancing around him and lowering his voice slightly. "But they won't be necessary. You'll probably think I'm foolish, but I want to keep Alex with me tonight." He squeezed his brother's shoulder and pulled him a little closer to him. He seemed almost embarrassed to admit how much he loved his younger brother and how worried he had been about him.
Charleston smiled. "I don't think it's foolish at all, Andrew. I'm certain I'd want to do the same."
Carter Major gave him a quick smile and then led his brother away.
Charleston now turned his attention to Raffles. I watched him stare at Raffles and a look I couldn't understand raced through Charleston's eyes; he hesitated for a fleeting second before he held out the sheet, blanket and pillow. Raffles held Charleston's gaze as he took them from him. "Thank you, Charlie," he said, his tone low.
Charleston nodded; glanced at me and glanced back at Raffles, before pulling another sheet, blanket and pillow from the cupboard and then closing it. "Come along then, Urquhart," he said, turning to Ollie and smiling down at him, "let's get you a bed made up. Goodnight, A. J., goodnight, Manders."
Raffles and I both said goodnight to Charleston and to Ollie before with Raffles's arm still around my shoulders we made our way to Raffles's study and went inside.
Raffles took his arm from around my shoulders, closed and locked the door of his study behind us and dropped the sheet, blanket and pillow Charleston had handed to him onto the sofa. He looked down at me and put his hands on my shoulders, "Well, that was jolly," he said and smiled in the way only he can smile. I stared up at him, wondering whether to debate his choice of term. But the smile faded and he brushed my hair from my forehead and said quietly. "It must have been very frightening, Bunny."
I continued to gaze up at him. "The storm didn't frighten me," I said, "but it got frightening when the ceiling started to come down."
He gave me a half-smile and gathered me into his arms. "I'm not surprised," he said. I sighed softly with pleasure as I rested against him, feeling the beat of his heart beneath my ear as he pulled me nearer to him. It felt a little strange being in his arms with both of us dressed only in pyjamas and dressing gowns, but not strange enough for me to even consider objecting - I would never object to being in his arms. I never tired of being in his arms; I was never in his arms enough for my liking.
For some time we just stood in silence before he gently pushed me away from him, moved his hands once more to my shoulders and said, "It really is time we went back to bed, Bunny." I nodded; but didn't move instead he stared down at me with one of his unfathomable looks. I'd noticed he'd started to look at me in ways I couldn't quite figure out far more often since we had returned for the new school year than he had done before the summer holidays.
"So, Bunny," he said, his tone was now as unreadable as his look, "where do you wish to sleep? Here on the sofa or," he paused and I found myself holding my breath. "Or," he repeated, his tone now very low, "do you wish to share my bed?"
I stared up at him as I felt my heart begin to beat a little faster. "Could I?" I asked my voice little more than a whisper.
He smiled. "Well, Bunny, I'm sure you could; the question really is, do you wish to?"
I nodded. "Yes, please."
He smiled, removed his hands from my shoulders, took one of my hands instead and led me towards the door that separated his bedroom from his study. "Come along then." Once we were in his bedroom he closed the door firmly behind us and stared at me for a moment before taking off his dressing gown and moving towards his bed where he dropped it on to the chair which stood near to his bed. He held out his hand to me and I hesitated for only a second before I went towards him, untied the cord of my dressing gown and let him take it off for me and put it on the chair on top of his.
He turned back towards me and I found my gaze wandering to where I'm sure it shouldn't have gone. Dressed only in cotton pyjamas the differences in our bodies was more obvious than when we were fully dressed. I told myself I should look away, but I couldn't; I just went on staring at him.
"Bunny," he said softly, breaking the silence. I jerked my head up and looked at him as I tried and failed to stop myself from blushing slightly. "I don't mind you looking at me," he said, his tone still soft. "Curiosity is only natural, but you mustn't make a habit of looking at boys like that."
I felt my flush increase and I looked away from him, staring at the wall behind him. "I don't," I said, hating how high my voice had become. "I wouldn't. I . . ." Now I did look back at him, willing him to understand; willing him to know he was the only boy I had any interest in looking at in the way I'd looked at him; in the way I still wanted to look at him. However, I kept my gaze firmly affixed on his face.
He moved towards me and took my hand. "I know, Bunny," he said, brushing my hair back from my forehead. "Look, if you would rather go and sleep on my sofa, you only have to say so."
I shook my head. "I don't want to." Now I looked down at the floor.
He put his finger under my chin and made me look up at him again. "Are you sure, Bunny?" he asked, his voice was very soft and gentle. "You didn't say you wanted to share my bed simply because I suggested it, did you? You don't think you have to, do you?"
I shook my head again. "No," I said. "I want to sleep in your bed with you, Raffles. I want to very much," I added quietly.
He gave me another one of his unfathomable looks and tugged me the few extra steps to his bed. The covers were thrown back and the pillow was still slightly dented from where his head had rested on it. I hesitated for no more than a second before I climbed in and moved over so he could join me.
It was he who pulled the covers up around us, tucking them around me as he turned onto his side and looked at me reaching over me to pull the covers closer to me. He then left his arm draped over me and went on silently staring at me with his unreadable look.
I swallowed hard; my mouth was dry, yet my palms were damp and I knew my heart rate had increased. I had never shared a bed with anyone before, even though most of my dorm had, and I suddenly wondered if I'd actually be able to sleep. He went on staring at me and finally I had to say something. "Is something the matter, Raffles?"
"I was just trying to decide whether or not I should kiss you," he said, moving his arm from around me and starting to stroke my cheek. "Well, of course I shouldn't kiss you, but I was trying to decide whether to or not."
My heart rate increased even more and I felt a shiver pass through my body as he continued to stroke my cheek with the tip of his finger. "Well," he said softly, so softly I doubted, had I not been lying so close to him, I would have heard him. "What do you say, Bunny?"
"You're asking me?" I said, surprise clear in my tone.
He laughed softly and shook his head. "Yes, my dear Bunny, of course I'm asking you. If you do not wish me to kiss you, then I shan't. I assure you I have no interest in kissing someone who doesn't want to be kissed by me." I opened my eyes wide and stared at him. "Well," he said, his tone still low. "Do you want me to kiss you, Bunny?"
I swallowed hard. "Yes, please."
"Are you quite certain?"
I nodded. "Yes, Raffles, I am. I've wanted you to kiss me for . . . Well, for a long time." I didn't think I should tell him that I had decided I wanted him to kiss me the very first evening I spent in his study; it wasn't something I necessarily wanted to admit to, even though it was the truth.
"Have you now?" he whispered, his fingers moving to my ear and then round to the nape of my neck. I whimpered very softly as I nodded and pressed my head back into his caress. "In that case," he murmured, moving his hand down so it was pressed against my back; as he tugged me towards him, he slid his other arm under my body thus completing the embrace. And then his lips met mine.
I had no idea what to expect; I'd dreamt about him kissing me, I'd even dared to imagine him kissing me, but I'd never believed he would kiss me. But here we were in his bed and his mouth was on mine. I felt my body begin to quiver and tingle slightly as he increased the pressure for a second or two before he took his lips from mine and gazed down at me.
I stared back at him, my mouth slightly open as I tried to control my breathing and heart beat. He touched my face again, this time trailing his fingertips over both my cheeks, over my lips, around my ears and up into my hair as I just continued to stare up at him. I wondered if that was it; if that was the only kiss he was going to bestow on me, but then he smiled, slid his arm back around my back, lowered his head and again put his mouth on mine.
He was the first person to have kissed me, but I knew he had kissed boys before. The secure, possessive way he held me, the way his mouth seemed at ease as it caressed mine, the sense of certainty and confidence I got from him all told me he wasn't a stranger to kissing. I felt his mouth part slightly and moments later I felt his tongue tease my bottom lip, gently touching it; acting on an instinct I didn't know I possessed, I parted my mouth and let him slip his tongue into my mouth.
As his tongue met mine, I quivered again as I felt a part of my body begin to harden. It had been happening quite a lot over the last few months, sometimes after I'd washed, occasionally after I'd been to the lavatory and often when I'd spent time with Raffles, especially if I'd been sitting on his lap or he'd embraced me or had let my lie on this sofa with my head in his lap whilst he played with my hair. I didn't really understand what caused it or why it happened, but from the odd snippet of conversations and giggles I'd overheard in the dorm, it seemed that I wasn't the only boy to be experiencing this.
Nonetheless, as I felt it become even harder I tried to pull myself away from Raffles's body, least he should feel my hardness. But he held me firmly and I couldn't move away; as the part of my body that was hard brushed against his body I gasped as a sensation I'd never felt and didn’t understand raced through my body.
I even pulled my head back and broke the kiss. I stared at him, not knowing what to say, feeling more than a degree of confusion. "Raffles?" I whispered, not certain what I was asking.
He stroked my head and smiled at me. "It's all right, Bunny," he said, his tone soothing. "It's a perfectly natural thing to happen."
I stared at him. "Is it?" I whispered.
He smiled. "Yes, my rabbit." And he moved me slightly, pulling me against his lower body.
"Raffles!" I exclaimed, as I felt him. And then to my amazement, and to his from the way he blinked and raised an eyebrow, I blurted out, "Can I see?"
He stared at me for a second or two, then with a casual half-shrug he pushed the covers down and I took my eyes away from his face and let them come to rest on his lower body. Even through his pyjamas I could see that the differences between he and I were even more obvious than they'd been before we'd got into bed. My mouth became dry and I felt my breath coming in shallow bursts and again without consciously thinking about it, I put out a trembling hand as I murmured, "May I?"
He caught it and held it gently. "Have you ever touched a boy before, Bunny?"
Eyes wide I looked back at him. "No!" I cried indignantly. "Raffles, I -"
"Hush, my rabbit," he let go of my hand and put his finger on my lips. Then he asked softly, "Have you ever touched yourself?" He took my hand again.
Instinct told me he wasn't talking about washing myself or going to the lavatory, so, knowing my cheeks were flushed, I shook my head. "No," I said, more quietly this time. "But I've seen other boys touching one another."
"Have you now?" I nodded. "Are you quite certain you want to touch me, Bunny?"
I thought for a moment. If I was honest I wasn't completely certain, not because I didn't want to touch him, I did, I wanted to very much, at that moment I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do more than touch him, but because I didn't want to make a fool of myself as whilst I had caught sight a time or two of boys touching, I really had no idea what to do. But I pushed that thought to one side and nodded. "Yes," I said, hoping he didn't hear the quiver of uncertainty in my voice. "Yes, Raffles, I'm sure."
He stared at me for a second of two before he let go off my hand. "In that case, Bunny, go ahead."
"You want me to?"
He swallowed hard as he gazed at me. "Yes, Bunny, I do. I really shouldn't, but I would very much like you to touch me," his voice was low and I saw him swallow again. Encouraged by his words, his tone and his look, and not even trying to hide the fact it was once again trembling slightly, I moved my hand and touched him.
I was quite surprised when he gasped as my hand came to rest on him; and he tightened the grip he still had on me. "What should I do, Raffles?" I asked, looking at him.
I watched him moisten his lips and watched a faint hint of perspiration appear on his forehead. "Whatever feels right to you, Bunny," he whispered.
I frowned a little; that wasn't what I wanted to hear. "But, Raffles, I told you I've never . . . You know. I don't want to get it wrong."
He smiled and touched my lips with his finger. "You won't, Bunny," he said. "You won't. That's it, just move your hand," he gasped again as I did as he told me and his grip once more tightened on me as I began to stroke him with slightly more confidence. "Oh, yes, Bunny," he whispered. "That's it, my dearest rabbit, just like that."
I swallowed and then moistened my lips as I looked away from his face and down at what I was doing. My hand, like my back and forehead, felt damp, my mouth was dry and I felt the part of my body that had hardened when he kissed me, harden even more as it pressed against the bed. In fact it was now quite painful and I shifted my position somewhat so it wasn't pressing directly into the mattress as I continued to stroke him.
Suddenly he caught my hand and pulled it away, holding it tightly. "Stop, Bunny," he said; I noticed a hint of a quiver in his voice.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, not even trying to keep the concern from my voice.
He shook his head. "No, my rabbit; not at all, but you have to stop for now." And he tugged me towards him, turned me so I was once again lying flat on the bed and put his mouth on mine and began to kiss me again. As disappointed as I was that he had stopped me, I was nonetheless more than happy to return to kissing and as he deepened the kiss I turned my full attention to kissing him back.
As he kissed me he let his fingers slide into my hair tangling it lightly around them for a moment or two, before his fingertips caressed the nape of my neck. His fingers against my skin made me shiver and I felt myself harden even more and I made a noise in the back of my throat and pressed my lips even harder against his. His hand then moved down and began to stroke my back; his fingers moving up and down my spine again made me shiver as more unknown to me sensations raced through my body and made me tremble.
He lifted his head from mine and I gulped in some air as I gazed up at him; his lips were slightly parted and swollen as he stared at me, and he let the hand that had been stroking my back move around my body. It rested for a second on my hip before it continued to move across and down my body; for the first time ever fingers other than mine touched me in an intimate way. I cried out softly as he touched me, as more strange and unknown sensations raced through me.
He paused, his hand still resting on me but now not moving and asked softly, "Do you like it, Bunny?"
My parents had instilled a sense of being truthful at all times in me that was so ingrained I answered him honestly. "I don't know," I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow and looked a little surprised. "Do you dislike it?" he asked, his voice still low.
Again I was honest. "No," I said.
Once more he looked a little surprised. "Why aren't you certain whether you like it, Bunny?"
I wasn't entirely certain I could answer it; that I knew how to answer it. I squirmed slightly under his hand that still rested on me. "I don't know," I said, feeling foolish and terribly young. "I don't understand."
"Understand what, my rabbit?"
"The feelings. They're strange, Raffles. I've never . . . No one's ever . . . You know that, don’t you?"
He smiled. "Yes, Bunny, I do." Now he did move his hand again, stroking me once, twice, before stopping again as I moved beneath him. "Try to tell me, Bunny," he said softly.
I thought; I wanted him to go on touching me; I wish he hadn't asked me if I liked it. I wanted to tell him to carry on, but I knew he wouldn't. "I'm scared I might . . . It feels like I need to . . . I can't explain, Raffles. It's just . . . Raffles . . ." Silently I begged him to understand me and to if not explain then at least reassure me or something. Or even to ignore my childish ramblings and just return to touching me.
He smiled his loving, reassuring smile and kissed my forehead and then my nose. "You won't, Bunny, trust me. I know it can feel somewhat like it, especially when you're never experienced it before, but you won't."
"You promise?" I asked.
He nodded, kissed my forehead again before once more putting his mouth on mine and beginning to kiss me. As he did, I felt his hand move over my lower body again and this time I knew that I did like it; I made another faint noise in my throat, trembled with delight and clung tightly to him as he kissed and touched me. He lifted his mouth and gazed at me. "Bunny?"
"I like that," I whispered. "I like you kissing me when you're touching me." I blurted the words out and then bit my lip as I waited for him to laugh or tell me I was being a foolish rabbit. He did neither; he simply smiled, put his mouth back on mine and returned to touching me.
For a few minutes other than taking his mouth from mine briefly to allow us both to find some air, he continued to kiss and touch and stroke me. Then I felt his fingers begin to unbutton my pyjama trousers and a moment later his hand enclosed my now heated hardness and he began to move his hand, his strokes were somewhat different from how they'd been when he'd touched me though my pyjamas. As wonderful as the previous touched had been, his hand now on my unclothed body made me incapable of thought; I just reacted; my body just reacted to him, to his touch and to his kisses.
Once again it was clear he was experienced in touching another boy; his movement was sure; his hand steady; he knew exactly what he was doing and doing so very well. My body trembled and floods of feelings I wondered if I'd ever understand tumbled through me as suddenly I feared his promise to me was inaccurate. However, I no longer cared; even though I was in his bed, with his mouth on mine and with his hand around me I didn't care; all I cared about was being in his bed, with his mouth on mine and with his hand around me. I pushed myself up into his grip as it became just a little tighter and his strokes just a little faster.
"Raffles!" I cried, dragging my mouth away from his as my entire body shook and quivered with what I could only think was desire and yet more sensations I could not explain. His hand as he held me was wet and for a second I felt panic rush through me to join the other sensations. But the look on his face as he gazed down at me stilled my fears. With his other hand he brushed my hair from my forehead and kissed me lightly. "Raffles?" Despite the look on his face, I still asked the question.
He shook his head and pulled my hand to the one he now took away from me, which caused me to whimper with regret as I wanted it back. He smiled gently as he put the hand he'd stroked me with on mine and let me feel the wetness; I was both relieved and curious. I must have portrayed my curiosity as he once again brushed his lips over mine and said softly, "I'll explain another time, Bunny," and he once more pushed my hair back from my forehead. "Did you like that?"
I nodded. "Yes, Raffles."
"Did you really, Bunny?"
"Yes. I did. I liked it very much, Raffles." I said the words softly.
"Good," he murmured. "Because so did I."
"Did you?" I asked, before I thought about it and I felt my cheeks flush.
This time he did laugh, but only gently. "Oh, Bunny," he said, "my own beloved Bunny." His fingertips traced my cheeks.
I lay just gazing up at him now enjoying, even if I still didn't understand them, the sensations I was feeling all over my body and in one part of it in particular. His fingers traced over my chin and down to the hollow of my neck, before moving to slowly and carefully undo one by one the buttons of my pyjama shirt and he stared at me as he began to lightly caress my skin. Again I trembled, again I whimpered as I put my head back slightly, wanting him to kiss me again; he did and as his lips met mine and he began to kiss me I felt myself become slightly hard again.
I lost myself for a while in the beauty of his kiss, the delight of his touch and the sensations I was experiencing and then something came to me. "Raffles?" It was I who broke the kiss.
"When you stopped me from touching you did you know that you'd . . ." To my annoyance I felt my cheeks flush and I was unable to carry on, not that I knew what to say.
He smiled and cupped my cheek with one hand. "Yes, Bunny," he said. "And I didn't wish to scare you."
I frowned a little. "Should I have known?"
He shook his head. "No, my rabbit; don't worry. You will though; you'll learn to know."
That made him frown and from the look that passed across his face I had asked him a question he wasn't altogether certain how to answer. "Um," he said. "Experience. Rather in the way you learnt when you needed to go to the lavatory." His look told me he wasn't particularly happy with his answer.
Nor was I as I had no recollection how I'd learnt that. "Oh," I said, falling back on the manners that had been instilled in me. "Thank you," I added politely.
He laughed softly and kissed me. "It's another thing you'll just have to trust me on, Bunny. I promise you you will learn." He gazed down at me in silence for a moment, then to my surprise glanced away and added quietly, "And if you wish it, I can help you learn."
"Raffles?" I whispered his name; not certain I had heard him correctly or indeed understood him.
He looked back at me. "Did you really believe I'd take you to my bed and do things to you if I'd only intended it to be the once?" His tone was low. I stared up at him, I was still not entirely certain I understood him correctly. He must have understood my uncertainty because he asked, "Do you want it to only be this once?"
"No!" I cried, then I repeated more softly, "No."
He smiled. "Good."
We lay in silence just looking at one another until I dared to ask, "Raffles, can I touch you again? And," I said, swallowing hard, "go on touching you?"
He widened his eyes a little. "Do you really want to, Bunny? I mean really?"
I remembered just how wonderful I had felt when he'd been touching me and remembered how my body had responded to his touch in the ultimate way. And whilst I had no doubt my touches would be primitive, uncertain and naïve compared to his, I knew I wanted and I needed to try to give him some pleasure. "Oh, yes, Raffles," I said. "Yes. Yes, I do."
He didn't answer me in words, but his look gave me my answer. Still staring into his eyes, I swallowed and moved my hand, which once again began to shake as it found its way onto the hardness that was still pressed against his pyjamas. Fumbling somewhat I began to touch him, to stroke him as I'd done before he'd stopped me and he made a soft noise of what I believed was pleasure and he tightened the grip be had on me as he bent his head to kiss me.
I enjoyed what I was doing, but suddenly I wanted to feel his uncovered skin in my hand and began to try to undo the buttons of his pyjama trousers. But despite having spent years undoing my own, I found my fingers simply wouldn't obey me. I pulled my mouth away from his and looked at him just as he moved his own hand and in scant seconds he had undone the buttons.
My hand brushed against his uncovered skin and I looked away from his face and let my gaze come to rest where it had rested twice before - but this time there was no clothing covering him. If I'd believed the differences between us to be obvious when I'd looked at him clothed, then I hadn't truly understood quite how different we were. I gasped aloud and my hand froze as I just stared at him, stared at the evidence that whilst he was still a boy, he was also a man. For a moment as I gazed down I felt a hint of unease race through me, as things I had heard whispered and laughed about pushed themselves into my mind.
I tore my gaze away and looked up at him. "Raffles?" I ventured, aware my voice was more than a little uneven and shaky.
"Yes, Bunny?" He touched my face and took my hand in his.
I swallowed hard and then moistened my lips, glanced down at his body again and then returned my attention to his face. "You don't want to . . . You know, do you?" I asked my voice now very shaky.
He frowned a little "Bunny? I don't want to what? What, Bunny?"
Again I felt my cheeks flush as I found the words wouldn't come to answer him, at least not aloud. I tugged on his head, pulling it towards my mouth, put my lips on my ears and whispered a stumbling reply.
He pulled back sharply and stared at me a look of almost horror crossed his face. "No, Bunny!" he said his tone as shocked as his look. "Of course I don't. I would never, I could never, my beloved rabbit, hurt you like that."
"Are you sure?" I said, my mind again reminding me of things I had heard. "I thought . . ."
"I am quite certain, Bunny," he said firmly. "Besides, despite what you may have heard, it is somewhat overrated." And with that, he gathered me into an embrace and once more kissed me. As I met and returned the kiss I was relieved; yet a small part of me was also just a little bit disappointed, or at least I thought I was. The idea he might have wanted to do such a thing to me scared me a great deal; yet at the same time the idea I might lose his affection and attention because I was so young, so small, so innocent and so naïve bothered me as much if not more.
After another drawn out kiss, I pulled my mouth from his and turned my attention back to his body, ignoring my once again shaking hand I decisively put it around him and closed my fingers around his uncovered hardness and I felt him quiver a little and heard him make another soft noise in this throat as I began to clumsily move my hand. After a second or two, I felt his hand close around mine and he guided me for a moment until he took his hand away again and let me carry on unaided.
He still had one arm around me and his hand was once again tangled lightly in my hair as I switched my attention back and forth from watching his face to looking at what I was doing. His face was damp with perspiration and he seemed to be breathing harder than he usually did, even after hours of playing cricket, as he gazed at me with more affection than I'd ever seen him bestow on me. As I went on stroking him, I felt my own lower body react again to what I was doing to him, once again becoming almost painful as it pressed into the mattress. I shifted my body slightly, relieving the pressure as I tried not to let my grip on him change.
Suddenly I felt his hand on mine again, not covering it, just lightly touching it, but it was enough to still me for a moment. "Bunny, unless you want your hand to get rather wet, I suggest you move it away," he said softly as he looked at me, his gaze intense.
I froze for only a second longer, before smiling and beginning to once again stroke him as I had been doing; seconds later he gasped, "Bunny, oh, my own sweet Bunny." I felt my hand become wet and somewhat sticky as his fingers tangled even more tightly in my hair, almost tight enough to hurt. He held me firmly with his other hand as I felt his body tremble and heard him breathe noisily.
I continued to hold him loosely as he'd held me, more than a little uncertain what to do next. Then I felt his hand slip from my hair and saw him reach towards his bedside table where he grabbed his handkerchief; he gently took my hand from around him and carefully wiped it until it was dry.
"Well," he said, dropping his handkerchief onto the bed and yet again enfolding me in his arms, "that was . . ." He fell silent as he gazed down at me; his look as it had been before he'd taken me to his bed was unfathomable.
I began to feel a little uneasy as I stared back at him. "Did I do something wrong, Raffles?" I asked softly, when he went on just looking at me in silence. "Did I hurt you?"
He hastily shook his head and stroked my back. "No, my beloved Bunny," he said, kissing my head. "You did nothing wrong; quite the opposite, in fact."
I didn't understand. "Raffles?"
"Let me just say, Bunny, I believe you have made me realise something, even after several years." I stared at him, silently urging him to go on. To my surprise his cheeks flushed a little and he glanced away from me briefly, before taking my hand, pulling it to his lips and kissing it. "It appears it can be more than mere physical satisfaction."
I still didn’t really understand, but I was now able to read his look and saw not only the usual affection, fondness, possessiveness and protectiveness that I always saw there, I also saw a far, far deeper affection than I had ever seen before and I dared to wonder if it might be the same as I felt for him. "I love you, Raffles," I said quietly.
He nodded. "And that, my darling rabbit, is what I believe explains it." And with that, his mouth again found mine and he began to kiss me in a way that even I could tell differed at least somewhat from the way he'd kissed me before.