Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8)

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Authors: Jay Bell

Tags: #Gay Romance

BOOK: Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8)
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Books by Jay Bell

 

The Loka Legends series:

The Cat in the Cradle

From Darkness to Darkness

 

The Something Like… series:

#1 Something Like Summer

#2 Something Like Winter

#3 Something Like Autumn

#4 Something Like Spring

#5 Something Like Lightning

#6 Something Like Thunder

#7 Something Like Stories - Volume One

#8 Something Like Rain

 

Standalone Novels:

Hell’s Pawn

Kamikaze Boys

 

Plus special monthly releases, which can be found at:

www.patreon.com/jaybellbooks

 

Did you buy this book? If so, thank you for putting food on our table! Making money as an independent artist isn’t easy, so your support is greatly appreciated. Come give me a hug!

 

Did you pirate this book? If so, there are a couple of ways you can still help out. If you like the story, please take the time to leave a nice review somewhere, such as an online retail store (my preference), or on any blog or forum. Word of mouth is important for every book, so if you can recommend this book to friends with more cash to spare, that would be awesome too!

 

Something Like Rain © 2016 Jay Bell / Andreas Bell

ISBN:
978-1533346827

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.

 

Cover art by Andreas Bell:
www.andreasbell.com

 

 

 

 

__________

 

 

Something Like Rain

 

by Jay Bell

 

__________

 

 

__________

 

Part One:

Austin, 2007

_________

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

I need you. It’s as simple as that really. Before you answer, just listen, because I’ve got a lot to offer. I’m strong. These muscles aren’t just for show! I’m sure they could be of use. I’m young, but I’m not without talent. I can swim. I’ve been training every day, and I can handle taking orders. I’m definitely loyal. I’m willing to do just about anything because I need the Coast Guard to fix me. I’m sorry if that sounds dramatic or vague, but if I told you the truth, you would never accept me. Please give me a chance. Please please please please…

William forced himself to stop so he could reread what he had written. About halfway through he flipped the pencil over, eraser poised to scrub out any words too damning. Not that it mattered much. Filling out this application was just an exercise. In reality he would apply online, and if all went well, meet with a Coast Guard recruiting agent, but a test run had seemed like a good idea. Now he was glad he had done so. The item he had gone overboard on simply read
Additional Interests
. Heck, it wasn’t even a question, but William had made it one by using the neighboring blank space to plead his case, writing on the back of the paper when he ran out of room.

The scribbled words looked like they belonged to an emotional mess—exactly the impression he was trying to avoid. If he lost control of his tongue during the actual interview and started saying such things, he would never get a chance to fix himself. William nearly crumpled the application until he realized he still needed to study it, so instead he snapped the pencil in half and tossed it aside, the pieces clattering on the kitchen’s linoleum floor. Then he felt bad, because the pencil was part of a set his grandmother had bought for him, his name embossed on each. What if she found it during her next visit and her feelings were hurt, thinking he didn’t appreciate her gift? William scrambled to collect the two pencil halves, returning to his chair and lining up the jagged edges so he could put it back together. A little tape and it would be like new.

He sighed, letting the two pencil pieces fall to the kitchen table. This is exactly the sort of behavior he needed to correct. Why couldn’t he be like the other guys at school? Strutting around, burping and farting, making lewd comments about any girl in the vicinity. They were masters at not caring, each one a monarch in his own mind. Kings without kingdoms. And William? He was a queen. He was pretty sure that was the right term, but then again, history was full of queens who were tough and strong. William was more like a damsel of the court, always blushing when the handsome knights rode by. Or maybe the stable boy, skin dark from working outside in the sun, clothing mere rags, taut muscles visible through holes in the fabric.

William felt a stirring in his shorts and fought against it. Hopeless! Absolutely hopeless. He worked hard to discipline himself, both academically and athletically, but this one area seemed beyond his control. He wouldn’t give up though. He truly believed that the Coast Guard could make him into a man. In the meantime…

William grabbed a cookie from the plate his mother always kept full on the table, an ever-changing centerpiece of baked goods. Currently oatmeal raisin cookies were on offer. He shoved one into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. But of course it did nothing to satiate his true appetite. He went still, listening to make sure the house was empty. His parents had gone shopping for a new car, and his older brothers were unlikely to stop by their former home this early in the day.

The upstairs bathroom would be safest. William pushed away from the table, trying not to overthink. He wanted this. Sure, he’d feel bad afterwards, but the urge was too strong now, the blood rushing through his veins and to one area in particular. William took the stairs two at a time. Once in the bathroom, he flipped the light switch and locked the door. Then he approached the mirror, hips pressing against the counter. As always, he avoided looking at his own face. That would ruin the illusion. Instead he focused lower on his body, deluding himself into thinking he was seeing someone other than himself. The muscles were bigger than he preferred, the skin too pale, but he couldn’t afford to be picky. This was the only naked guy he was ever likely to see. In real life anyway. He might have ample opportunity in the shower room at school or at the YMCA, but he wasn’t dumb enough to look. None of those guys would allow him to stare as long as he wanted, or do the things he yearned to do.

Already his white canvas shorts were bulging outward, but William started with his polo shirt, hooking a hand beneath the mint green fabric and lifting slowly. Teasingly. He saw one hip and took a step back to examine the angled line diving into his underwear. Partially revealed too was his six-pack, which was only lightly defined instead of carved into the stomach like the guys he saw online. Maybe he should be looking at such images now, but somehow this felt more real. He lifted his shirt higher, still trying to pretend he was watching someone else strip. Plenty of girls at school commented on his chest, implying it was impressive. If only guys would notice instead. His arms were big too, his vision momentarily obscured as he pulled the shirt over his head. He tossed it aside, still keeping his gaze focused downward on his narrow waist.

As he worked on the button of his shorts, the rush of hormones made it easier to get lost in fantasy. He was standing behind a guy, arms wrapped around him, hands undressing him completely. The button popped open, the zipper came down. William slipped a thumb beneath the band of the underwear and slowly lowered them, gasping when his cock flopped out. He didn’t know how he stacked up to other guys, especially since everyone appeared so huge in porn videos, but if a guy in real life presented him with this one, he wouldn’t mind. He would do so many things with it. More than he could now.

William grabbed hold of himself and started pumping, thinking about how he would drop to his knees, or even roll over onto his stomach, offering himself, if he really were with another person. His thoughts became more abstract as he continued and the pressure built. He focused intently on the way each muscle twitched, his arm like the piston rod of a locomotive, cranking in perfect rhythm, his pecs bouncing in response. He stood on his toes and leaned forward over the sink as he got closer, biting his lower lip and hissing like a steam engine. All aboard, because this train was about to depart! Right before it did, William raised his gaze, locking eyes with himself in the mirror, staring into the green irises and dilated pupils and seeing absolute certainty there. This is who he was. So what!

If only he could hold on to that state of mind, make this his new identity. He already knew how quickly it would slip away. Right now, in fact. His body tensed, pleasure coursing through his body like a tidal wave, the fleeting strength washed away after crashing against the shore.

Heavy breaths followed, each a little slower than the previous. He splayed his hands out on the cool marble counter, supporting himself. William risked one last look in the mirror, no longer liking what he saw there. This wasn’t who he was meant to be. This had to be the last time. Right. How often had he said that already, only to break his own promise? No, he definitely needed help. After cleaning up his mess, he’d return downstairs to finish the application. The online version. Then he would submit it, taking his first step toward recovery.

* * * * *

William was stuffing swimming gear into his backpack when he heard a car honk. He ignored the noise at first, feeling frustrated. He had filled out the online application with great care, triple-checking each answer. When he’d finally found the nerve to click submit, he was rewarded with a vague error message. Naturally when he hit the back button, all his answers were lost. Didn’t the world want him to get better? When pleading with the laptop didn’t work, he decided not to try again just yet, opting instead to continue his training at the YMCA.

The honking continued as the garage door rumbled open. Curious, he went to investigate. When he opened the front door, his attention was forcibly drawn to a cherry red sports car. Polished lacquer reflected the autumn sun, intensifying the light and making it feel more like summer. The convertible top—which was currently down—added to this illusion. William felt pulled forward as he pictured himself behind the wheel. That wasn’t hard to do, considering how much he had in common with the man in the driver’s seat. His father, Lewis, had a similar build, albeit with twenty-two more years of wear. This meant a slightly pronounced belly and skin that was perpetually baked from years of working on roofs. His hair was considerably darker than William’s and currently windswept. The grin he wore was soon matched by his son.

The passenger-side door opened as William hurried forward. A slight woman stumbled out and tried to get her blonde hair back in order. His mother’s cheeks were flushed. Probably from excitement. Or perhaps not, considering the way Kate looked back at the car and shook her head.

“This is too cool!” William said, walking around the vehicle to inspect it. “Is this a test drive or… Don’t tell me! It’s a late birthday present!”

“Absolutely not,” his father said, stepping out of the vehicle. “Considering how many dents and dings your car has, it’ll be a cold day in Hell before I ever let you drive this baby.”

“So it’s ours?” William asked, still overcome with disbelief. He couldn’t remember his parents ever buying a car that wasn’t used. They normally made such boring choices, like minivans or fuel-efficient sedans.

“She’s all ours,” Lewis confirmed.

“That’s still up for debate!” Kate said sharply. “We really need to discuss—”

“The papers are already signed,” his father said dismissively.

William turned to his mother and saw that her mouth was a hard flat line. Never a good sign. “You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No!” she replied emphatically. “Maybe as a weekend rental, but the higher insurance rate, not to mention how much gas it will guzzle… Don’t you think your parents are a little old to be seen in such a vehicle?”

“Yes,” William said. “Better give it to me. You guys can have my old car.”

His parents didn’t laugh. Instead they stared each other down.

“It’s pathetic,” Kate snapped.

“It’s what I want,” Lewis shot back. “God forbid I do anything for myself!”

“We can’t afford—”

“Why not! William isn’t going to college. He’ll graduate next year and—”

“He doesn’t graduate until the year after. So nice to see that you’re paying attention to your children’s lives!”

“Guys!” William pleaded. “It’s just a car! It’s not worth fighting over.”

His parents had been bickering nonstop lately. He wasn’t used to seeing them argue, and they certainly weren’t used to their son telling them to stop. The atmosphere grew thick. Then Kate shook her head and walked toward the front door. William looked to his father.

“It’ll be fine,” Lewis said.

“Maybe you should get something you both like,” William suggested.

His father appeared wounded, as if he had been betrayed. Then he got back in the car and started the engine.

William approached the driver’s side. “Are you returning it to the dealership?”

His father glowered. “No. I’m taking it out on the highway to see how fast this sucker can go.” Without another word, he pulled out and drove away.

William stood there, looking down the street at a neighborhood that—while not poor—rarely had brand-new cars in any of the driveways, and never any so frivolous. As cool as the convertible was, he found himself agreeing with his mother. The car didn’t match their family at all. Then again, maybe that’s why his father liked it so much.

* * * * *

Girlfriends. William had a few. Not of the romantic variety, although he never corrected anyone for misinterpreting what they saw. His oldest brother, Spencer, had once been sent to pick him up from school. When he pulled up to the curb, he found William surrounded by female friends, just as he always was. His brother had grinned and shook his head ruefully once William was in the passenger seat, shooting a few reappraising glances his way during the drive. “You’ve got it all figured out,” Spencer had said. “When I was a freshman, all I did was hang out with my buddies, acting stupid and getting into trouble. What I should have done is spend more time with the ladies.” Then he had punched William playfully on the arm, which hurt like hell because Spencer was a Marine.

Little had changed over the past few years. William had the same group of friends, and people kept making assumptions. This had helped him get through high school without ever having an intimate relationship, although pressure was mounting. Something about junior year had changed the dynamics of his friendships. Not that he hadn’t experienced missteps previously, like when he had agreed to be Holly’s boyfriend during their freshman year. That had resulted in hand-holding, late night phone calls, and one teary conversation when William had to explain that he didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship. Holly did the crying while he did some fast talking, and in the end, he had successfully scared her off.

Temporarily, it would seem. Holly was currently holding on to his arm as they walked down the hall. On his other side were Lily and Abby, who were either shooting daggers at Holly or finding little excuses to touch his back, as if he needed guidance on the way to class. He tensed and wondered if he should follow in his brother’s footsteps and find a group of guys to hang out with instead. That would be easier than pretending to have the flu to avoid the homecoming dance, a tactic that definitely hadn’t been forgotten.

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