Eighteen Years
by Edward Kyle Stokes
Chapter 6
I'm Really Getting Educated.
They spent the rest of Sunday trying to process the monumental shift in Aled's life. By late afternoon, the walls of the tiny bedroom started to feel a bit claustrophobic, so Harry suggested they head outside to get some fresh air and clear their heads.
They took a long, quiet walk along the ancient Roman walls of Chester. The crisp air helping to steady Aled's frayed nerves, his hand firmly tucked into Harry's jacket pocket, interlaced with his fingers. As they walked, Harry's mind was working fast, mapping out the immediate practicalities of their new reality. He suddenly remembered one of his rugby mates mentioning a bar job he'd lined up for the summer at a lively spot in the city centre, and how the manager was desperate for more staff.
While Aled was using the toilets at a quiet cafe, Harry pulled out his phone, dialed his mate, and got the manager's contact details. He slipped the phone back into his pocket just as Aled returned. Harry decided not to say anything to him just yet—he wanted to lock the jobs down as a surprise to prove they were going to be okay. But there was another, heavier thought taking root in Harry's mind. A fierce, protective instinct was pulsing through him, and he was seriously considering driving out to the farm himself to confront Aled's father and brothers face-to-face.
That night, they crawled back into the narrow single bed, the darkness of the room offering a familiar, comforting sanctuary. The raw panic of the day had settled into a deep, emotional exhaustion. Aled turned on his side, curling his back against Harry's chest, and whispered into the quiet room, "Make love to me, Harry."
Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He shifted closer, his large hands gently exploring the smooth, warm planes of Aled's body. He pressed soft, lingering kisses along Aled's neck and shoulders, using his touch to soothe away the lingering tension from the farmhouse kitchen. When Harry wrapped his powerful arms completely around the younger boy's chest pulling him tightly against his torso, Aled immediately responded, pushing back firmly into Harry's growing erection.
Harry knew exactly what Aled wanted, but the protective gentleman in him needed to be absolutely certain. "You sure you want me to...?"
Aled didn't let him finish the question. He interrupted Harry by pushing back against him even harder, his voice thick with devotion as he confirmed, "I need you, Harry. Please."
Reaching down in the dark, Harry guided his hand to wet the tip of his thick, rigid cock. He positioned himself ready, and with a slow, deliberate pressure, he pushed into the younger boy for the second time.
Aled let out a sharp, breathless gasp as his tight muscles stretched to accommodate the fullness, but there was no fear this time—only absolute surrender. He reached his hand back, gripping Harry's thigh with an urgence. "Oh yeah... fuck me, Harry!" he breathed into the dark.
Harry began to move, establishing a deep, tender rhythm that was entirely focused on comforting and worshiping the boy who had given up everything for him. The quiet room filled with the soft sounds of their shifting bodies and ragged breathing. They made love with a fierce, quiet intensity, a mutual declaration that they were now each other's family. Afterward, completely spent and beautifully entangled, they fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, locked in each other's arms.
The morning sun brought a calmer, more grounded energy into the small room. The rich, familiar aroma of the pod coffee machine filled the air once again as Harry handed Aled a steaming mug. They sat side-by-side on the edge of the mattress, the domestic routine already feeling natural despite the chaos of the weekend.
"I've got a busy one today," Harry said, taking a sip of his coffee. "It's my final week of formal lectures before we get the two weeks of revision leave, and then it's straight into final exams. I can't skip them, but I hate the thought of leaving you here alone."
Aled offered a small, reassuring smile, cradling his mug. "Don't worry about me. I can find things to do. You need to focus on your degree."
"Well, I've already been working on a plan for us," Harry said, a spark of excitement returning to his eyes. He leaned in closer. "I called one of my rugby mates yesterday. There's a busy pub in the city centre looking for summer staff, and the manager wants people right away. I think it'd be perfect for you, Aled. It'll get you some cash in your pocket, and it's a good environment. I can take you down there later this week to get it sorted."
Aled's eyes widened, a wave of immense relief washing over his face. The terrifying mountain of financial dependency suddenly felt manageable. "A pub job? Really? I'd love that, Harry. I'll work as many hours as they'll give me."
Harry smiled, pulling Aled in for a brief, warm kiss, but his expression turned serious as he broached the next topic. He reached down, taking Aled's free hand.
"The other thing is... your family," Harry said gently. "I know things are raw right now, and the way they treated you was completely out of order. But we can't just leave it like this forever. Once my exams are out of the way, and things have cooled down a bit on the farm, I want us to go back there. Together."
Aled stiffened slightly, a shadow of anxiety crossing his face. "Harry, you don't know my dad. He meant what he said."
"I know," Harry replied, his voice firm and fiercely protective. "But he needs to see that you aren't alone, and he needs to look the guy his son gave up everything for in the eye. We'll go as a team. We'll show them we have a proper plan, a place to live, and jobs. They might not change their minds overnight, but they need to know you are okay and in a good relationship."
Aled looked at Harry, feeling the incredible weight of the older boy's support. For the first time since walking away from the farm the future didn't look like a terrifying void—it looked like a path they were going to travel hand-in-hand.
By Wednesday afternoon, the plan was fully in motion. Harry walked side by side with Aled down into the bustling centre of Chester, heading toward The Red Lion, a lively, pub popular with both locals and students.
The interview was a breeze. The manager, a friendly, amiable guy, liked Aled's honest, straightforward attitude immediately. Recognising the work ethic of a farm boy, he hired him on the spot, offering him a steady shift pattern with plenty of opportunities for overtime. Best of all, he was to start straightaway. The manager called over another young guy working the floor—a charismatic, sharp-dressed lad named Callum—and told him to show Aled the ropes. Callum gave Aled a warm, flashing smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder, seemingly more than happy to help.
On the way back to the halls of residence, carrying a hot box of takeaway pizza between them, the evening air felt lighter.
"So," Harry started, a sly, knowing grin spreading across his handsome face as they walked. "Your new work partner, Callum. He's pretty hot, don't you think?"
Aled's cheeks instantly flushed a deep crimson. He looked down at the pavement, uncomfortably shifting the pizza box. He was still so new to the concept of openly discussing attraction, let alone about another bloke. "I... I didn't really notice," Aled mumbled, reluctant to admit anything. "He seems nice."
"Oh, come off it, Aled," Harry chuckled, bumping his shoulder against the smaller boy's. "He's gorgeous and you know it. And I'm telling you, I'm certain he's gay."
Aled blinked, looking up in genuine confusion. "How could you even know that? You only saw him for like, two minutes."
"It's the way he looked at you," Harry said simply, his voice casual but convincing. "And how he practically tripped over himself to be the one training you, for example. He was checking you out the whole time, mate."
"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," Aled said softly, reaching out to grab Harry's free hand, squeezing it tightly as if to ground himself. "I've got you. You're the only one for me, Harry. I don't care about anyone else."
Harry stopped walking, pulling Aled into the shadow of an old brick archway. He leaned down and kissed Aled thoroughly, breathing in his unique scent mixed with the crisp evening air. When he pulled back, a wicked, playful glint danced in his blue eyes. "Yeah, I know... but..." Harry smiled, a low, teasing tone entering his voice. "We could always do a threesome."
Aled's jaw practically dropped. He stared at Harry in absolute disbelief. "You're joking!"
"Well, kind of," Harry chuckled, bopping Aled playfully on the nose. "But hey, you never know in the future, huh?"
They walked the rest of the way back in comfort, eating their pizza on the edge of the single bed, but the comment hung in the back of Aled's mind like a strange, foreign frequency.
Later that night, the room was dark and the only sound was the quiet hum of the mini-fridge. Aled lay wrapped in Harry's powerful embrace, his back pressed against Harry's broad chest. The warmth was comforting, but the conversation from earlier was still twisting in his head.
"Harry?" Aled whispered into the dark, his voice small and vulnerable.
"Yeah, babe?"
"About what you said earlier... I really don't want to share you with anyone. Ever."
Harry's heart softened completely. He smiled into the darkness, tightening his large arms around Aled, pulling him so close there wasn't a millimeter of space left between them. He buried his face in Aled's dark, wild curls.
"I'm yours forever," Harry promised fiercely, kissing the nape of Aled's neck. "Just you and me. I was only teasing, I swear."
Aled let out a quiet breath, relaxing against the heavy, safe weight of the boy he loved. He believed Harry. He knew Harry loved him. But as he closed his eyes and drifted toward sleep, he couldn't completely stop the gears from turning. For an eighteen-year-old boy who had spent his entire life believing he would never even have one man love him, the sudden realisation that other men might actually find him desirable—that a beautiful guy like Callum had been looking at him that way—had taken root. A tiny, quiet seed had been planted in Aled's thoughts, and neither of them knew what it would grow into.
Friday night was an absolute baptism of fire for Aled. The Red Lion was packed to the rafters with a frantic weekend crowd, the air thick with the smell of spilt beer and loud music. Orders were being shouted three-deep from the bar, and Aled, still trying to get used to the fast-paced rhythm of serving the customers, felt his chest tightening with stress.
In the middle of the rush, a large, aggressive bloke in a dark suit ordered a round of expensive cocktails. Panicking under the man's impatient glare, Aled accidentally keyed the wrong button on the digital till, messing up the total.
"Look what you've done, you idiot," the customer snapped, his voice cutting through the ambient noise. "It's not that hard, is it?"
"I-I'm sorry, sir," Aled stammered, his face burning a deep crimson as his fingers fumbled on the screen, only making things worse. "Let me just..."
The guy rolled his eyes dramatically, letting out a loud, mocking sigh. "Unbelievable. I don't know why they don't get decent staff instead of fucking twinks!"
Aled froze, completely flustered, the unfamiliar word hanging in the air like an insult he couldn't quite decipher. Before he could sink any further into the floor, a shadow fell over the till.
Callum stepped right in, placing a firm, protective hand on Aled's shoulder and gently nudging him aside. The friendly, easygoing bartender vanished, replaced by someone with ice in his veins.
"Alright, mate, that's enough," Callum said, his voice dropping into a hard, no-nonsense tone as he stared the customer dead in the eye. "He's on his second day, and he made a simple mistake. There's absolutely no need to be aggressive. Now, I can fix your round, or you can take your attitude to the pub down the road. What's it going to be?"
The antagonistic customer blinked, caught off guard by Callum's sharp confidence, and muttered a half-hearted apology while Callum quickly corrected the till and processed the payment.
It wasn't until almost closing time that the chaotic energy of the pub finally died down. The lights were turned up, and Aled and Callum were wiping down the sticky wooden counters, the clink of empty bottles filling the quiet space as the last customers were leaving.
Aled looked over at Callum, his throat a bit tight. "Hey, Callum?"
"Yeah, mate?" Callum replied, tossing a damp rag into a bucket.
"Thanks for... you know, stepping in earlier with that bloke. I really appreciate it." Aled paused, wiping a spot on the bar with a bit too much intensity as his curiosity finally got the better of him. "Can I ask you something? What... what's a twink?"
Callum stopped what he was doing and let out a rich, genuine chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed gently, "You really are a country boy, aren't you?"
Aled's cheeks instantly grew hot, but Callum's smile was entirely warm, devoid of any malice. He leaned his hips against the back-bar, crossing his arms comfortably.
"Don't worry about that prick, he was just being homophobic," Callum explained gently. "A 'twink' is just slang in the gay community. It usually means a younger guy who's slim, physically attractive, and doesn't have a lot of body hair. Basically... someone who looks exactly like you."
Aled felt the heat rise from his neck all the way to the roots of his dark hair. Hearing himself described as attractive by another bloke—and realising the word was explicitly tied to being gay—made his heart do a strange, nervous flip.
"Oh," Aled murmured, looking down at his cloth. "Right."
"Hey, don't be embarrassed," Callum said softly, giving Aled a knowing, friendly wink. "It's a compliment, trust me. And yeah, in case you hadn't guessed by now, I'm gay too. There's a lot of us in the city, Aled. You're in good company here."
Aled managed a small, shy smile, the initial embarrassment giving way to a strange sense of comfort. As they finished locking up, Aled couldn't help but think about Harry's words from Wednesday night. Harry had been right about Callum. And for the first time in his life, Aled realised that the world outside the valley wasn't just big—it was full of people just like him.
When Aled finally unlocked the door to the bedroom, the small space felt more like a sanctuary than ever before. This tiny room in the halls of residence was officially his new home now, even if it was just temporary, and the moment he saw Harry sitting up in bed waiting for him, the lingering stress of the Friday night shift melted away.
Stripping off his work clothes, Aled crawled under the covers and immediately confided in Harry about the frantic night, the angry customer, and the 'twink' insult.
Harry listened, but instead of getting angry, a massive, wicked grin spread across his handsome face. He let out a low chuckle and pulled Aled tightly against his chest. "A twink?" Harry joked, his voice dropping into a deep, playful register. "Well, that arsehole got one thing right. You are a twink, Aled. You're my gorgeous, smooth little twink, and I absolutely love you."
Before Aled could even blush, Harry leaned down, his lips brushing against Aled's ear as he started telling him exactly what he wanted to do to his twink. Talking dirty was entirely new to Aled—growing up on the isolated farm, sex had always been a silent, shameful secret—but hearing Harry say these intensely graphic, worshipful things out loud sent a sudden, dizzying rush of heat straight to his groin. Despite his shyness, he couldn't help his cock getting instantly, fiercely hard against Harry's thigh.
The heat in the room spiked even further when Harry murmured, "I want to give you a blowjob tonight, Aled. Right now."
Aled blinked in the dark, his breath catching. "A... a what?"
Harry gave a soft, affectionate laugh, realising just how much of the world Aled still hadn't experienced. With a patience that was incredibly sexy, Harry leaned over him and explained in thorough, agonising detail exactly what a blowjob was, and precisely how he was going to use his mouth, his tongue, and his lips to make Aled feel good.
And then, he did exactly what he promised.
Harry slid down the mattress, his large hands gently parting Aled's thighs. Aled gripped the bedsheets, his head tossing back against the pillow as he felt the shocking, unbelievably hot sensation of Harry's mouth wrapping around his rigid length for the very first time. The wet, swirling pressure was entirely different from anything he'd ever felt. Harry moved slowly, deliberately, looking up at Aled through his blond fringe to ensure the younger boy was enjoying every single second. Aled let out a series of broken, breathless gasps, his hips arching off the bed in pure, unadulterated ecstasy until he collapsed into a powerful, shaking release right in Harry's mouth.
Afterward, Harry crawled back up the bed, wiping his mouth with a smirk, and pulled a completely dazed, shivering Aled into a tight, protective embrace.
As they lay there, utterly exhausted and tangled together in the quiet of the night, Aled buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck. A soft, emotional smile tugged at his lips.
"Harry?" Aled whispered into the dark, his voice thick with sleep and wonder.
"Yeah, babe?"
"I'm really getting educated."
Harry let out a quiet, rumbling chuckle, kissing the top of Aled's head as they both drifted off to sleep, tightly bound to one another.
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