Love on the Rocks

By Marcus McNally

Published on Mar 4, 2011

Gay

This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.


In the darkness of our bedroom, Ty held me tightly from behind, his face buried in my neck, and I could tell he was struggling with his emotions. I had sensed, ever since his phone call with Vince earlier, that something wasn't right but I hadn't expected that what was upsetting him had anything to do with us, or our future.

I could tell, from the way Ty was clinging to me, that bad news was imminent and that he had left any discussion about it until the very last minute. I wondered whether he could tell from the accelerated beating of my heart that I was in danger of being physically sick?

Only a few months before, the man of my dreams had quite unexpectedly walked into my life and stolen my heart. And now I sensed, with overwhelming wretchedness, that he was about to break it. I was glad I was facing away from him, so he couldn't see the tears welling in my eyes.

I had wanted this – his 30th birthday weekend – to be one he and I would remember forever. I had a feeling it was going to be, but for reasons I never imagined.

As we lay together in silence, I wracked my brain for a reason. I was certain there was nobody else. Had I done or said something wrong? Did he not comprehend how much I truly loved him? Had I not told him often enough? Had he simply stopped loving me? Did he never love me? Had Vince given him an ultimatum – lose the boyfriend or your career's finished? I drew a blank on every one of them.

The last thing I wanted to face was the conversation that was coming, but it was obviously me who was going to have to start it. I pulled myself together enough to speak, and took a deep breath. Still facing away from him and yet held tightly in his embrace, I asked quietly, "What is it, Ty?"

Nothing. A stifled sob, his face pressed even further into my neck.

"Ty, talk to me," I said.

He moved his head away from my neck and I felt his breath. He was quiet for a while before he spoke, very quietly.

"I had a heart-to-heart with Vince," he started hesitantly, and then stopped.

"It sounded more like an argument to me," I ventured.

Again he hesitated. "Yeah, it did get a little heated."

"And?"

"Well, the new album's out in a couple of weeks and he wants me to focus on it completely. He wants me to move to Sydney to live, because that's where the music industry is based ..."

He seemed to be struggling for words.

"And he wants me out of the picture, right?"

Ty seemed to freeze. He moved further back from me and exclaimed, "What??"

"You and me. Over? Finito?"

Ty suddenly sat upright in the bed and rolled me on to my back. Even in the semi-darkness I could see the shocked look on his face.

"Mike?" he asked, bewildered. "Where the fuck is this coming from?"

I felt tears trickling from the corners of my eyes, falling on to the sheet beneath me. "Isn't that what this is about?" I asked, searching his face. "Us breaking up?"

Ty seemed to crumble. He reached out and held my face in his hand. "Mike, no, no, no" he whispered, complete shock in his voice. "How could you get this so wrong? Us break up? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"But you've been upset ever since that call from Vince. And now you say you're moving to Sydney. What am I supposed to think?"

"Mate, I've been stressing about telling you about Sydney, because your life is in Melbourne. And I'd been waiting for the right moment to ask you if we could maybe live together in Melbourne, but Vince won't have a bar of it. And I've been trying to work out a way to tell you we won't be together a lot of the time, especially when I'm working."

I rolled on to my side and propped myself up on an elbow, facing Ty.

"Fuck," he choked, "I've made you cry. I'm sorry Mike. I am so sorry."

I smiled. "I always tear up if I think an unhappy ending's coming. Seriously Ty, I'd like to think we can work through anything that comes up, together. You should have just talked to me about this. We can still make this work, even if distance keeps us apart."

Ty was quiet for a few moments, looking at me intently. "The problem is, mate," he began. "I want us to be together. I want to be with you all the time. I want to come home from the studio and open the door and smell what you've cooked. I want to go to sleep with my head on your chest. I want to wake up in the morning with you. I don't want to come home from touring and have to settle for talking to you on the phone. I don't want us both flying back and forth between Sydney and Melbourne for weekends ..."

I smiled again. "Think of the Frequent Flyer points!"

Ty punched me lightly in the chest. "Asshole," he smirked, the worry fading from his face. "Mate, I know I don't express myself very well. But you're like oxygen for me. I can't breathe properly when we're not together. And I kinda started to worry that if we were living apart, and I was away on tour, you might meet somebody new ..."

I reached out and stroked his cheek. "Mate, what part of `I love you' don't you quite get?" I asked. "I hope you know me well enough now to know I don't use those words lightly."

"I know," Ty sighed. "But I worry over that kinda shit. And in my mind, I've been seeing us together, sharing a house and not some apartment. I'd love to have my dog with me and we'd be like ... well, a family I guess."

I laughed. "Jeez Ty, didn't know you were such a romantic!" I said. "The cottage with the picket fence? Me in the kitchen, baking blueberry muffins? ..."

"Now you're taking the piss!" he laughed. "Nah, a big manly house with blokey furniture, with pizza boxes and beer bottles all over the coffee table. And Scruffy wagging his tail when we get home."

"Scruffy?" I laughed. "What's Scruffy?"

"Scruffy's my dog. Mum and dad got him for me for my 18th birthday. He was an abandoned puppy and they rescued him from the pound."

"But `Scruffy'?"

"Yeah, I know," he smirked. "I wanted to call him Rambo, but Mum said that because he was a scruffy pup, and I was scruffy too, that should be his name. And there's no arguing with my Mum!"

I leaned in and kissed Ty softly on the lips. "Mate, I promise. We'll work something out. There'll be a solution to this. But you've gotta promise me you won't get so worked up over this kind of shit. We've gotta talk to each other about everything, keep communicating."

"I promise," Ty replied earnestly. "And I'm sorry Mike, really. Can I show you another way I know of communicating?"


The feeling of relief that flooded me when I realised, once and for all, that Ty felt the same way about me as I did about him, was overwhelming. Those feelings of dread gave way to an emotional tidal wave that swept me up and drowned me in a sea of love and gratitude. And, in the wee small hours of the morning, we made love, slowly and tenderly.

We started with soft kisses, running our hands over each other's chests and shoulders. How well we knew each other's bodies, like maps, only with erogenous zones where mountains would be. I knew every spot that caused a moan, and he knew exactly where to touch to make me mew. Like, when he'd run his hand up the inside of my thigh, and lightly rub the crease between my leg and groin. And I knew that just gently cupping his weighty balls in my hands would always result in his head tilting back and a gentle "aaah" from his open lips.

We toyed with each other for a long time, enjoying touch. Tender necking eventually gave way to harder, more passionate kisses and I melted into Ty's embrace. He moved his mouth from my lips to my chest and he licked languidly down to my stomach, my body shivering from the sensations. By the time he reached my belly button, my achingly hard cock was straining to greet him. He looked up at me, smiling, before swallowing it in one fluid movement, holding me fully inside his hot mouth. I believe it was his way of showing me that I belonged to him; nothing could make me happier.

And then he set about reminding me how skilled he was in the ancient art of fellatio. One minute, just the pulsating head of my cock was between his lips, the tip of his tongue teasing my piss slit, the next, my entire length was embedded in his throat. He played me like a musical instrument and he knew instinctively how to get the sounds from me he wanted to hear. Groaning, mostly. And, skilled lover that he was, he knew how to keep me agonisingly on the brink. Whenever he sensed I was close he slowed down, and when the danger passed he would once again begin his assault.

Experience had taught him that he could keep me in delay mode for only so long, and knowing that moment was fast approaching, he stopped nursing my cock and shifted on the bed, lifting my legs over his shoulders and started to suck on my balls. He kept up his ball bath until he'd got enough "oh God"s and "oh fuck"s from me to keep him happy, and then lifted my legs higher and pushed until my knees were resting against my chest. I held them in place, knowing how lewdly exposed I was.

In the way I've come to love, Ty used the flat of his tongue to sweep from the start of my ass crack to the back of my balls in long strokes, before pulling back and using the tip of his tongue to flick repeatedly at my opening. He alternated between flicks and laps before pressing his mouth over my aperture in a lip lock, at the same time working his tongue slowly inside me. He got the response he was waiting for; my head moved from side to side on the pillow and my hands clutched at his curly hair.

His tongue probing became more forceful and little by little, I opened up to him, like a flower in bloom. By now, my moans were wanton and he moved his tongue back to my nectar-filled balls as first one finger and then a second slid inside me. I was ready; fucking sweet Jesus I was ready, and Ty knew it!

He moved to lie beside me, his fingers still embedded deep inside me, one of them wiggling over and around my prostate. He looked lovingly into my eyes, smiling no doubt at the reaction he was eliciting.

"What do you want, mate?" he whispered.

I groaned. "You know what I want!"

"Not sure I do! Maybe you better tell me?"

"Fuck me, Ty. Please."

"Didn't quite catch that, mate!"

OK, two can play this game. I drew in my breath and literally bellowed, "FUCK ME!!"

Ty's fingers immediately withdrew from my ass and he clamped his hand over my mouth. "Bloody hell," he hissed. "You wanna wake up the whole house?"

"I will if you don't fuck me ..."

Ty grinned. "OK, OK! Shhh."

With me still holding my knees against my chest, Ty repositioned himself between my spread legs. Supporting his weight on his left arm, he spat in his hand, massaged his pulsing cock and lined it up against the doorway to paradise. He looked deep into my glazed eyes and moved gently forward, spearing my opening with his bulging cockhead and, after kissing me fleetingly on the lips, sank himself fully in to me.

For me, this was the completeness I'd only ever experienced with Ty. I felt consumed, totally loved by him; I could see it in his eyes before he closed them to fully absorb the exquisite pleasure that only the ass of someone who desperately loves you back can give.

I lifted my hips off the mattress, just to make sure I had every last centimeter of the bishop with the nice purple hat inside me. Seems as if I did! We stayed still for a few moments savouring the sensation, and I shivered as Ty licked my face, like a cute puppy thanking me for looking after him.

And then we got serious. Ty flexed his rampant organ inside me, making me moan, and then he withdrew slightly, waited for the count of five, and then began to fuck me. God, how he fucked me. He lowered his stomach and chest to mine as he started to plunge, and I could feel his accelerated heartbeat. With each thrust and parry, I worked my ass muscles on him, clamping down and then releasing his swollen stalk, causing him to whimper.

Like a well oiled machine, he pistoned in and out of me, using his body to drive me crazy. We were both soaked in sweat and the smell of raw man on man sex hung like a cloud above us.

My ass switched to autopilot to match Ty's relentless assault, and his murmurs of "fuck I love you" made me even more determined to give him a glimpse of what the seventh heaven might be like. I worked hard to push aside the feeling of ecstasy that was swamping me, to make sure this sweet, beautiful man knew how much I truly adored him.

Ty and I had certainly enjoyed some awesome sex in our time together but tonight was something entirely different. Our bodies were joined in the most intimate and loving way possible, but beyond that, our souls had merged. I'd heard the expression "all consuming love" many times but I hadn't actually experienced it until this moment.

Tonight, we were truly one. Tonight, I realised through touch and feel, how completely he loved me. And I prayed that after tonight, he would never have even a fleeting doubt about how much joy he brought to my life.

Our lovemaking continued, and endorphins were propelling me into a sexual stratosphere that was beyond any comparative clumsiness I'd experienced with the faceless lovers from my past. They'd been notches on my bed head; beautiful Ty Hill, I now knew for sure, was an indelible imprint on my heart.

From somewhere far away, I felt myself succumbing to a climax and perceptively I knew that Ty was there with me. By now, we were both making noises that would have zookeepers running, and in slow motion, we stepped into the abyss together. The sexual became the spiritual, and in our oneness we simultaneously let loose the sap that some higher being wanted us to understand was sacred. And it was. Ty collapsed in my arms and how long we hugged I couldn't tell. Time ceased; my world revolved around Ty's laboured but immensely satisfied breathing. I felt immense gratitude that somehow fate had made our lives collide. After tonight, I knew for certain, we would never again doubt our destiny.

Eventually, Ty's softening dick slipped from my satisfied core, and after a long lazy kiss and the cutest smile you've ever seen, he rolled off me and flopped on to the mattress. He whispered "holy fuck" before turning to his left and once more, resting his head on my still heaving chest.

I knew we had much more to talk through to find a resolve to the problem confronting us, but for now I just wanted to feel him close. I stroked his hair and kissed the top of his hair and, before sleep overtook us he leaned up and whispered in my ear ... "See? I'm breathing OK now ..."


I woke early the next morning, before Ty, and indulged in my secret pleasure; watching him lost in sleep. His face is always beautiful, but in semi-consciousness, it was sublime. Handsome yet pretty, lined but incredibly striking. Lips wet and slightly parted, breaths short and sweet. And unlike Mr. Past History and Mr. Long Forgotten, there was no snoring.

No matter how peaceful he was, he always seemed to know when I was studying him. Sure enough, his eyelids fluttered a time or two and his eyes opened. He looked up at me from under his long eyelashes and yawned. "Whatcha lookin' at?" he mumbled.

"Still trying to work it out!" I grinned. "I woke up this morning and found this cute stray in my bed." I reached out and ruffled his messy hair. "I think I'll call him Scruffy!"

Ty chuckled. "As long has you promise not to have him neutered!"

"Not a chance in hell!"

"What's the time?"

"20 past 8, mate," I replied. "10 minutes til George O'Clock!"

Ty reached out and took my hand, slipping it under the covers, and held it while it wrapped around his ragingly hard cock. "No time to get rid of this then?"

"Dammit, no," I chuckled, squeezing him as hard as I could.

"Ouch!" he yelped, throwing back the covers. "Gotta piss."

With his one-eyed warrior leading the charge, Ty padded to the bathroom, his toned ass an early morning dose of eye candy. "Scruffy's got a cute tail!" I called out, and over the torrent hitting the bowl I heard him chuckle.

Ty was still in the bathroom when I heard the knock on the door.

"Oui George, entrez s'il vous plait!"

George walked in with our breakfast tray and the smell of fresh brewed coffee wakened my taste buds. "Bonjour Monsieur Stewart. Avez-vous dormi bien?"

"Oui dit merci, George".

The toilet flushed and Ty walked back into the bedroom. His dick was no longer hard, but hung heavily between his muscled thighs.

"G'day George," he chirped.

"Good morning Mr Hill," George replied and, without missing a beat he turned to me and added, "That reminds me sir, shopping needs to be done. We're out of bratwurst."

I chuckled, and as Ty slipped into bed beside me and George settled our tray, Ty said, "You two aren't the only guys around here who speak French you know."

"C'est juste, monsieur?" asked George.

"Yeah, I reckon!" Ty smirked. Picking up a slice of toast and taking a bite, he added, "Bon happy tit!"

As I sipped my coffee I said to George, "Guess Scott won't be joining us in the bed for breakfast then?"

"No sir, I don't believe so," he replied. "I went to Scott's room to ask what Simon might want for breakfast, but they had their own version of a `Do Not Disturb' sign on the door."

"Yeah," quizzed Ty, toast frozen in mid-air. "What did it say?"

"It read `Fuck Off'," said George. "And it was in capitals, so I assume they were serious."

I laughed. Ty frowned. "That's not funny," he grumbled.

"Yes it is, mate," I chuckled. "You should have just banged on the door until you got an answer."

"I doubt whether they'd have heard me over all the noise, sir," George replied, to Ty's horror. "I chose to believe they were doing a strenuous workout on treadmills."

"There's no gym equipment in Scott's room," said Ty, stating the obvious.

"No sir, there is not," George agreed.

"Fuck!" said Ty, shaking his head. "They were going at it like animals last night, too."

"Indeed they were, sir," George smiled, as he turned to leave. "Although the "FUCK ME" I heard bellowed at 12:54 this morning certainly didn't appear to be coming from their part of the house."

I looked at Ty and laughed, but he seemed to have momentarily lost his sense of humour. He opened his mouth to speak but I held up my hand. "If this is about Scott and Simon, I don't wanna hear it."

He closed his mouth again and continued chewing his toast. I decided to push him. "You reckon Simon's a good fuck?"

Ty put his toast down. "You've put me off my breakfast!" He sat in silence while I crunched my toast, and then he looked at me. "Do you?"

"Probably," I shrugged. "But he'd be nowhere good as that hot rock star. What's his name? Titus Hill?"

I finally got the goofy grin I'd been waiting for. "That'd be `Tight Ass Hill' if you don't mind!" he chortled.


Breakfast finished, Ty and I lay in bed for a while listening to the gulls on the beach, which thankfully drowned out the muffled grunts of pleasure coming from the shared bedroom down the hall.

"Time for a shower I guess," Ty said pensively.

"Hey, mate" I replied. "I was looking at us in the bathroom mirror at the hotel yesterday morning and I reckon George's cooking has added an inch or two to both of us. We've kinda got out of the habit of running every morning so I thought maybe we'd do a couple of k's on the beach?"

"Yeah, good idea," Ty agreed. "We can shower later."

We threw on running shirts, tee shirts and gym boots and, after telling George what we were doing, we hit the sand. Neither of us could reach the end of the beach at full felt, so out of condition had we become in five weeks. For the return trip we jogged, and by the time we reached the balcony stairs we were soaked in sweat and out of breath.

At the top of the stairs, we found George setting the balcony table. He poured us both a juice as we flopped into chairs. We'd only had a sip when Scott and Simon wandered on to the balcony. They were both showered, but were wearing boxers and tees. "Good mornings" were exchanged and before they could sit, George held up two cushions and asked, completely deadpan, "Either of you require one of these?"

Neither boy seemed to get the joke, but Ty and I chortled. Scott and Simon were sheepish and while they maintained superficial conversation with us, they kept their eyes focused on the food in front of them. Once they'd finished eating, Simon excused himself to go and dress.

"So, mate," Ty said to Scott. "You two sacrifice a small animal in your room last night?" I caught Ty's eye, and was relieved to see a twinkle. This wasn't going to be the train wreck it might have been.

Scott looked at him, shocked at first, before his face broke into a cheeky grin. "You oughta talk, Ty!" he laughed. "We might have sacrificed a small animal, but it sounded like a full scale massacre in your room!"

Ty again opened his mouth to speak but I held up my hand, and nodded to George to refill our coffee cups.

As Scott downed the last of his juice and made ready to go and dress, he said, "You know what, big brother? You were right!"

"How's that?" Ty asked, eyebrow raised.

"It only hurts the first time!"

The look on Ty's face was classic! George looked at me and said, "Allow me, sir" before lightly slapping the back of Scott's head as he scampered off to his room.

Alone on the balcony, Ty looked at me. "Fuck me!" was all he said, shaking his head.

"Mate," I laughed, standing up. "First chance I get today, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. But right now, we need to shower. You stink!"

Big cheesy grin. "You gonna wash my back?"

"Eventually!" I chuckled, as I pulled him to his feet.


We all remustered in the family room once we were scrubbed and dressed. I noticed that Scott and Simon seemed pleased with themselves, and connected in a different way. Intimacy does that. They tossed around a few ideas for the day's agenda and decided they'd start with a couple of games of pool. They wandered off to the pool room, leaving Ty and me flicking through newspapers on and magazines on the balcony.

While Ty studied the Courier Mail' (I smiled to myself when I realised he was actually reading the comics page), I flicked through the latest issue of People' and read with great amusement a completely fudged gossip column piece headed `Tyson Hill : Love At Last?".

"Mate," I chuckled, forcing him to drag his eyes away from Hagar The Horrible'. "According to People', when you were at the Cohen showcase you couldn't take your eyes off a certain blonde reporter whose gorgeous body sent your pulse rate soaring!"

Ty grinned at me. "They almost got it right! I couldn't keep my eyes off a certain blonde lawyer whose ass sends my cock soaring!"

As always, George was hovering with a coup de grace. "Speaking of cock," he said, pokerfaced, "I'm thinking of chicken kiev, rosemary potatoes and salad for this evening's meal?"

"Perfect, George!" I smiled.

"Excellent, sir!" he replied. "Someone will just need to go to town and pick up chicken, potatoes and salad!"

Ty's mobile rang and he looked at it. "Monique," he grimaced. "This is the start of it. The bloody schedule."

He grabbed a notepad and pen and moved to a sun lounge on the balcony, while I continued flicking through trashy magazines. I half-listened to his side of the conversation and gathered quite quickly that his upcoming media commitment would be gruelling.

Intermittently I heard murmurs of approval interspersed with groans. "The Today Show? Again?" ... "Do I have to sing live? Can I have my own sound guy?" ... "I'm not doing a nude shot, my Mum would kill me" ... "I don't care how prestigious the magazine is, I'm not doing nude. No, I don't want to do `shirt off' either. What's that got to do with my music?" ... "Can I see the 20 Questions beforehand?" ... "A cooking show? Shit, I can't even cook toast" ...

And so it went. I had zoned out of his conversation when my own mobile rang. It was Vince, just checking to see how Ty was travelling before he called him. I moved to the lounge and flopped on the couch.

"He's OK Vince," I assured him. "It was a bit rough though. I knew something was up and it all came to a head later in the night."

"Why? I just had to hit him with the cold hard facts. He's the top male rock star in the country right now. He needs to be in Sydney."

"I know, but ... well, you know. I'm in Melbourne and he was a bit stressed about us not being together."

"Did he tell you I suggested you move to Sydney to be with him?"

I was surprised. "Well, no," I admitted. "I didn't know you'd said that. I actually thought you were suggesting it was time for him to give me the flick!"

It was Vince's turn to be surprised. "Are you fuckin' shitting me mate?" he exclaimed. "Jesus H! The last thing I want is you out of the picture. I want you on his tail 24/7."

Vince immediately chuckled at his faux pas. "Forget I said that! You know what I mean. I don't know how you do it mate, but you keep him grounded. And happy. I don't want you goin' anywhere."

Vince explained in greater depth the need for Ty to be based in Sydney and, knowing the law firm I work for had an office in the harbour city, he tentatively asked whether it might be possible for me to relocate to their Sydney office?

"Tough one, Vince," I answered honestly. "I've pulled in a lot of favours to get so much time off with Ty, and it's probably pushing things to return after another six weeks and tell `em I want a transfer."

Vince sounded despondent. "I know what you're saying Mike," he sighed. "And God will strike me down for saying this, but you two belong together. I hang shit on Ty, but I love the guy. You've gotta know that. He's a fuckin' head trip sometimes, but he's a beautiful guy. You're his lifeline. I knew it the moment I saw the two of you together in the foyer at Bedarra. I know him, and mate, he fuckin' loves you. It's all faggot shit to me, but I get it. So just think about it will you?"

"I'll see what I can do, Vince" I promised. "Honestly? I don't wanna think about only seeing him on weekends when he's not working, or on the road. He means everything to me, but my work's important too."

"You know you could always work for Ty," Vince suggested. "He's making enough money to easily be able to match your salary. You could handle the business side of his career, all the contracts and legal stuff. And you could even take on other clients if you want?"

I smiled. "Thanks, Vince! But mate, that kinda smacks of gay-for-pay."

"I don't even know what that means, Mike," Vince replied. "Don't think I want to. The offer's there. Ty trusts you. I trust you. Just say the word."

"Thanks Vince. I'll see how things unfold when I'm back in the office next week. By the way, how are things going with you and Miss Can't-Sing-A-Note?"

"Hey!" he chuckled. "Believe it or not, she actually can sing a note. I put her with a really good singing teacher here in Sydney, and he's done an amazing job with her."

"So you're saying she's a future addition to the Vince Commetti talent stable, and your relationship will be strictly professional?"

"Not just yet, mate," he laughed. "I'm still enjoying schooling her in the wonders of the Italian salami!"

"Ewwww," I sneered. "There's a mental image I don't need to have ..."

"So what do you guys have planned for the rest of the day?"

"Dunno," I replied truthfully. "I guess Ty's gonna talk business for a while. Then we'll have some lunch and sit in the sun. And then the first chance we get this afternoon, we'll lock the bedroom door and do the horizontal hula!"

Vince groaned. "Talk about nasty mental images! Can you put him on?"

"He's still yakking with Monique. Maybe try him in half an hour."


I went back to reading the papers and as soon as he finished his call from his publicist, Vince called him and they chatted briefly. I heard Ty grumble about the workload Monique had presented him with but Vince quite skillfully diverted his attention with some well placed words of praise about the reaction to his new album from the record company. He was in good spirits when he joined me on the balcony.

"Mate, the record company thinks the album's a killer!" he beamed. "They told Vince the acoustic tracks are fantastic!"

"You were right, Ty!" I complimented. "I'm glad you stuck to your guns."

Ty had just sat down when Scott and Simon appeared. They sat and mentioned they were thinking of going for a swim, but those plans were put on hold when George appeared with a short shopping list. He handed it to me, and I turned to Ty. "How about you and Scott go into the supermarket?" I suggested. "Scott can drive and you can be the licensed passenger, and you can check how much he's learned since he's been here."

Ty smirked. "Oh I've got a fair idea how much he's learned since he's been here!"

Scott and Simon looked at one another and giggled. I threw the keys to Ty as he stood.

"Come on, asshole," he enthused. "Let's see how safe the roads are with Hotfoot Hill on `em ..."

Ty and Scott disappeared and George brought a plate of sliced fruit for Simon and me. It was the first time I'd actually been alone with Simon since those early visits to the supermarket. I started eating some fruit and as casually as I could, asked "So, things have taken a bit of a turn with you and Scott?"

Simon didn't shy from the question, but he was vague. "Yeah, it's been a great couple of days."

"So, are we talking serious here? You boys in love?"

Simon seemed surprised by the question, but considered his reply. "No, I don't think we're `in love'" he replied. "Scott's a really great guy. I think he's hot and I know he likes me. We've been having some fun, but we're not ready to settle down."

I smiled. "I'm not talking happy ever after, mate! Just hoping there's something special there."

Simon pondered for a moment and then smirked at me. "Let me put it this way," he said. "We've got a bit of a way to go before we end up like you and Tyson."

Momentarily, he shocked me and for once, I was stuck for words. I tried not to show how much he'd unnerved me but he wasn't buying it.

"Come on, Mike," he said. "I know!"

"You know what?"

"About you and Tyson."

"What?" I stumbled. "I told you, I'm his lawyer."

"Yeah, his lawyer, and a whole lot more."

"That's way out of line, Simon," I said, my voice snappier than I meant it to be.

"Come on, Mike," Simon smiled. "Every time you two are in the same room together, it's like Cupid's flying overhead shooting his little arrows. And the way you look at each other? Man, it's like When Harry Met Sally' remade as When Mike Met Tyson'."

I wanted to say something, but I was speechless. Suddenly, the reality hit me; someone outside the inner circle had cottoned on.

"Hey, it's cool Mike," Simon assured. "Like I said, your secret's safe with me."

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "This is a whole different secret, Simon."

"So?" he answered, bemused. "Now that I know, what? You'll have to kill me?"

"No, nothing that drastic. But I wonder how you'd feel about signing a simple non-disclosure document?"

Simon recoiled. "What, you don't trust me??"

I tried to pick my words carefully. "I do trust you," I said. "You know I do. But I wouldn't be doing my job as Ty's lawyer if I didn't get some sort of assurance in writing."

"To stop me selling a `Tyson Hill Gay Shock' story to the trash mags?" he spat back.

"I know you wouldn't do that, Simon" I tried to assure him. "But Ty values his privacy above everything else, and it's my job to protect it."

"I thought maybe we had an understanding from the start," he said angrily. "You asked me to be discrete and I was. I didn't tell anyone Tyson was in town. But clearly that means shit?"

"Simon," I reasoned. "Please don't over-react to this. Try and see it from Ty's perspective. And mine. He's in a very precarious situation. There's huge media interest in him, and I need to guarantee he's not thrown to the wolves."

"Yeah, I get it," Simon laughed bitterly. "How stupid am I? I thought we were friends. First thing that goes wrong, you turn into defense counsel on me."

I felt affronted and I reacted angrily. "And you're turning diva on me," I snapped. "You've waltzed in here, been treated like one of the family, and then you played your fucking trump card. You worked it all out. Clever Simon. And then you get confronted with a request that's an everyday occurrence in the entertainment industry and you turn into Shirley Bassey."

Simon stared at me coldly. "You know what, Mike?" he seethed. "Fuck you".

With that he angrily pushed his chair back and stomped through the lounge to Simon's room. The door slam resounded through the whole house.

I was stunned, and I sat and stewed for a few minutes before George appeared and sat down opposite me. "Are you alright, sir?" he asked.

"Bloody hell, George," I thundered. "Fucking little upstart. Who does he think he is?"

"You offended him, sir, if you don't mind my saying so," George replied matter-of-factly. "That's how people his age react when they think they're being treated like children. Of course, it's none of my business ..."

I looked at George and immediately saw the wisdom in his words. "Of course it's your business, George. You stand back and see everything that happens here as it really is. I know I didn't handle this well, so give it to me and don't hold back."

For the next 10 minutes, George explained kindly what he thought was Simon's take on what had happened, how I'd pissed all over the friendship he thought he had with me and Ty. How my knee-jerked reaction was legal recourse, and fuck how Simon might feel about it. By the time he'd finished, my shoulders had slumped and I felt like a right cunt.

George reached his arm across the table and cupped his hand over mine. "He's a trustworthy boy, sir," he said. "You need to fix this and it would be good if you can do it before Mr. Hill and Scott get back. Otherwise, it's just going to get escalate."

I squeezed his hand. "Thanks George," I sighed. "Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you."

George smiled, and returned to the kitchen, leaving me to my thoughts. Ten minutes later, thoughts collected, I wandered down the hallway and knocked on Scott's bedroom door. No answer. I knocked again. "Simon?" I called. Still no answer.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. Simon was lying flat on his back on Scott's bed, hands behind his head, gazing at the ceiling.

"Simon, can we talk?" Silence.

I walked into the room and sat on the side of the bed facing Simon.

"Mate, I'm sorry," I started. "I instinctively slip into lawyer mode when my radar tells me something might be a problem. I didn't stop to think how much I trust you and have done from the start. But I love Ty and instinctively I'm gonna protect him. I hope you understand that's where it was coming from."

Simon was quiet for a while before he said, "Yeah, I do understand it. You just hurt my feelings. I thought we were friends, and it seemed like you didn't trust me."

"I'm really sorry, Simon," I apologised. "I do trust you. Forget the non-disclosure. It's not necessary."

With that, Simon sat up and looked me squarely in the eye. "No Mike," he said. "I've thought about it and you're right. I see what you're getting at. You and Ty have been great to me and Scott means a whole lot to me too. I want you to print that paper out and I'll sign it. And I hope we never mention it again." He paused. "We're good!" he smirked.

"Fancy a beer?"

"Yeah, you bet!"

We stood and I pulled him into a quick hug and ruffled his hair. With my arm around his shoulder, we started walking back towards the kitchen.

"Just how many torn condom wrappers are on that side table in Scott's room?" I asked with a chuckled.

Simon's face broke into a wide grin. "Seven!" he boasted. "Pretty good 24 hours, eh?"

I don't know how he knew these things, but when Simon and I reached the balcony, George had two cold beers waiting, and a bowl of mixed nuts.

Simon and I clinked bottles. "Here's to trust, mate," I said, catching his eye. "So, Cupid, eh?"

Simon laughed. He raised his arms in a make-believe bow and arrow pose, and winked at me as Ty and Scott walked into the kitchen with the groceries.


"Hey Mike," Scott chirped. "You shoulda seen Ty in the supermarket, fuck it was funny! I told him to go off and find mango vinaigrette and he came back with a mango and a bottle of vinegar! And when I told him to get some Spanish onions, he asked the chick in the fruit section where he'd find onions from Spain! She almost pissed herself! Then she realised who he was and she nearly fainted."

Ty grabbed his brother in a headlock and play punched him. "Listen mate, I'm a rock God," he laughed. "I usually have people shop for me!"

George appeared with a refreshed fruit platter and mused, "It's a good thing chocolate wasn't on the list. We'd probably have ended up with laxatives."

Ty feigned shock. "Listen here old man," he admonished. "Any more of your cheek and I'll send you off to a maximum security twilight home!"

George didn't bat an eyelid. "You might want to wait until I've finished making lunch, sir!"

The four of us chatted as the fruit quickly disappeared and the Hill brothers were just starting to show signs of hunger aggression when George emerged from the kitchen with lunch. Again, he'd excelled.

He put before us bowls of Linguine Puttanesca and a share bowl of tomato and avocado salad with shaved parmesan and pesto dressing.

As always, Ty and Scott pushed the pasta around and tried to identify the ingredients by sight and smell. They correctly guessed the olives, tomato, garlic and chili, and I explained what a caper was. It was Scott who asked, "What's the fishy thing?"

I chuckled. "It's an anchovy, mate!"

"Smells like pussy!" Scott announced, to guffaws from Ty.

"Don't you think so, Si?" Scott asked.

Simon smirked. "Wouldn't know what pussy smelt like, Scott! I've never swum in that pool!"

We demolished the pasta - pussy and all – and George followed it with a simple lemon sorbet.

Sated, we lounged for a while, until Scott and Simon announced they were driving to Noosa Heads to see "I Am Number Four".

"It's supposed to be ace!" Scott enthused. "Aliens land on earth just before their planet gets annihilated. You wanna come with us?"

Ty and I looked at one another. "Nah, we'll pass thanks mate," I said. "We've got some things to talk through."

Scott and Simon headed off with keys and wallets and while George cleared the table, Ty and I retired to the lounge. We sat side by side on the couch and I was surprised that Ty didn't flick on the TV as he normally does when he's placed in front of one. Instead, he put his hand on my knee and absent-mindedly ran it up and down my thigh.

"So mate, you wanna talk?" he asked. "Anything I should be worried about?"

I chuckled. "Nah, it's all good. Just wanna run some stuff past you. Let's go lie down and talk."

We moved from the couch and headed for the bedroom. I pushed open the kitchen door and said to George, "Ty and I are gonna lie down for a while."

"Of course, sir," George replied. "Shall I get the `Do Not Disturb' sign from Scott's door and hang in on yours?"

"We're only going to be talking, George," I chuckled. "At least, at first ..."


Ty and I lay on the bed together and talked for a while about how much we'd loved being together on the coast, Ty's birthday surprise, how much fun we'd had with Scott around, how much his life had changed in a few short weeks, and what a good decision we'd made in inviting George to join us.

And though I'd thought about a bit recently, this was the first time I verbalised the fact that in a few days, our holiday break would come to an end. From Brisbane airport, I would be flying to Melbourne, Ty would be flying to Sydney, and Scott would be bussing it home to Stanthorpe. As for George, we agreed, we'd arrange a private hire car to drive him back to the Gold Coast in style. With a driver wearing chauffeur's hat and all ...

"I sent an email to work earlier," I said, out of the blue.

"What about?"

"Just to let the senior partner know I want to have a meeting with him the morning I start back at work."

"What did he say?"

"There was no need for a reply. I was just setting up the meeting."

"What are you going to talk about?"

"The possibility of me transferring to our Sydney office."

Ty's eyes lit up. "Really?" he grinned. "You're seriously thinking about it then?"

"Of course, mate!" I laughed.

"What do you think he'll say?"

"No idea," I answered honestly. "I'm pretty sure they want to hang on to me, so I guess it comes down to how much they want to keep me, and whether there's actually a place for me in the Sydney office. It'll mean handing over some of my Melbourne clients, but I've got quite a few national clients and I could take on some Sydney accounts as well."

"Maybe I shouldn't get ahead of myself," Ty enthused. "But I could start looking for a place. Vince has me booked into a serviced apartment for the first few weeks, and after that I'll need to find something permanent."

"How about we see what my boss says first, and then if it's a thumbs up, I might get on to the guy who found this place for me? He handles properties all over the country and he already knows the kind of place we like. He might come back with something good. Saves us pounding the pavement."

We talked some more; about Ty's media schedule, the album release and preparations for his tour, about Scott's gap year and his travel plans. The talking ended when Ty leaned in suddenly and kissed me, so tenderly, on the lips. "Fuck I love you, Michael Stewart," he smiled. "You make the world a better place."

I kissed him back. "I feel a song coming on!"

"Yeah, I'm gonna write another song about you later on," he said. "But I've got a legal question for you."

I looked at him quizzically.

"Can an offer that is made by one party verbally, and accepted by the other party verbally, be construed as a legally binding agreement?"

"Sometimes," I said, wondering where he was heading with this. "It depends. Why?"

"This morning when I said fuck me', you verbally promised you would. Just making sure you're not backing down on the offer, cos if you do I've got a shit-hot lawyer and he'll nail your ass."

"Actually, the shit-hot lawyer's gonna nail YOUR ass, mate!" I grinned, as I started undoing his belt buckle. Things sped up and in no time we were naked, two large cocks in eager combat mode, ready for the battle. I started to lie down, assuming we'd be taking our time making love.

"You know what, mate?" Ty asked. "I'm feeling like some dirty bloke stuff now, and I know you're a dirty bloke. How about you just fuck my ass? Show me who's boss!"

He rolled over on all fours, ass raised, legs apart with his beautiful bollocks hanging between them. I stood and moved to the edge of the bed, spat in my hand and stroked my throbbing rod until it gleamed.

And as I sank all the way into Ty's tight, velvety insides, I realised once and for all that yes, I wanted to be with this man - forever. In a place of our own. Just Ty and me. And Scruffy.

I couldn't wait to get to work next Monday and talk to the senior partner ...


Always happy to have your feedback. marcusis32@live.com.au

Next: Chapter 17


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