Love on the Rocks

By Marcus McNally

Published on Sep 11, 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.


The countdown had begun, but we were all so busy we barely noticed the time slipping away. Lachlan had arranged a visit back home to Dot and Frank's farm in Stanthorpe, to introduce them to Ellie and to surprise and hopefully delight them with the news that they were going to be grandparents in around seven months time.

I spent some time with Simon and Scott talking through all the things that needed to be done for their impending overseas trip. They had already applied for the necessary visas, and Simon's father in Queensland was taking care of booking flights and accommodation. I helped Scott arrange travel insurance and went with him to the bank to organise his very first credit and debit cards.

Ty was caught up viewing edits of his last concert tour in readiness for its upcoming DVD release, and he'd asked Simon to help with the artwork. When he wasn't in his music room mixing the audio tracks on his computer, he was warming up his voice for his live television appearance the following week in Melbourne.

He still wasn't comfortable with being a guest judge on a talent show, and having to end someone's dream by taking part in an elimination round, but I managed to take his mind off his misgivings by telling him that old man Shaw had accepted my final offer on the property in Stanthorpe and if Ty was happy to pay $675K the property was his.

I had the documentation delivered to my office and brought it home for Ty to sign. On Friday, I faxed the signed contracts back to the agent and arranged with the bank for the 10% deposit to be transferred after dropping Lachlan off for his physio appointment.

With a sense of foreboding I picked Lachlan up after his consultation, knowing that the next stop was the backpacker hostel where my brother Steve was staying. Lachlan was expecting Steve to cough up the remaining $120 of the money he'd spent from Lachlan's wallet and I was painfully aware that if Steve wasn't there, or didn't have the funds, the next stop was the police station.

When we pulled up outside the nondescript housing block, I opted to stay in the car while Steve faced the music. Lachlan disappeared inside and returned 10 minutes later. The fact that he looked relaxed made me breathe a sigh of relief.

"Was he there?" I asked hopefully.

"He was," Lachlan replied.

"Did he have the money?"

"Nope."

My heart sunk. "So what happened?"

"He didn't have the cash, but he does have a part-time job on a building site," Lachlan explained. "He's started work but he doesn't get his pay for a week. He showed me a letter from his foreman confirming his employment, and even stating that $120 was being withheld from his first pay and would I can pick it up directly from him."

"Seriously? So he's going to pay you back?"

"Looks that way," Lachlan smiled. "And he even apologised again."

"Crikey! So what took you so long? He didn't get another walloping did he?"

"Nah, but your brother Steve and I had a little man-to-man chat," Lachlan replied. "I congratulated him on taking his first step towards being a responsible adult, and let him know what I'd be expecting from him from now on. Except when I'm at the farm with Ellie, I'll be visiting him every Friday for the next few weeks so he can talk me through how he's managing his money."

"He agreed to that?"

"He did. Even thanked me."

"Fuck me!"

"Nah, I'll pass!" Lachlan laughed. "Although I gotta say, you do smell pretty good! ..."


On Saturday, we all enjoyed breakfast together before Lachlan and Ellie were ready for the drive to the airport and their flight to Brisbane where they would be met by Dot and Frank. We agreed that I would drive them to Sydney airport but Ty would stay home to avoid any fuss in the terminal.

Scott and Simon were due to fly the next day to Queensland where they'd stay with Simon's folks for a few days before flying off on their big adventure. This was the last time Lachlan would see Scott for quite some time, and much time was spent with Lachlan giving his younger brother strict instructions on staying safe while abroad – all the do's and do not's of international travel.

The wrenching goodbye between Ty's two brothers was so intense I couldn't watch. I carried Lachlan and Ellie's luggage out to the car and waited for them. Aussie soldiers don't often cry, but there were tears in Lachlan's eyes when he opened the back door for his girl and then leapt in the front with me.

On the drive to the airport, Ellie enthused about how much she was looking forward to meeting Lachlan's parents and seeing the area he and his brothers had grown up in. In her final year of her Agricultural Science degree, Ellie was delighted to be able to spend some time on a real working farm.

We arrived at the departures drop off with plenty of time to spare, but I told Lachlan and Ellie I'd farewell them outside the terminal. Lachlan had booked Economy return airfares to Brisbane, and I wouldn't get to see the look of surprise on their faces when they found that Ty had used Frequent Flyer points to upgrade them both to Business Class. It meant they'd be able to relax in the Business Lounge and then fly in comfort.

Our farewell was brief but touching. I remarked as I left them on the sidewalk how happy they looked. When they were together they just radiated love and happiness.

Driving back to Point Piper I reminded myself that Scott and Simon would be leaving tomorrow, and I mentally prepared myself for the farewell between Ty and Scott. I remembered how torrid it was the last time Ty saw his brother off, and that was just back home to Stanthorpe.

At home I found Ty and Scott playing pool, and Simon helping George with housework. I made a plate of mixed sandwiches and cut up some cake and we gathered on the balcony for a light lunch. In the afternoon we all had a long walk along in the beach in the Sydney sun, and while the boys attended to their last minute packing, I kept Ty preoccupied by showing him a couple of recent episodes of `The Next Big Thing' online, so that he was up to speed with who the final contestants would be.

To keep the mood as light as possible, I told the guys I was shouting them to dinner at Cruise at Circular Quay, with its extensive cocktail list, superb Italian food and breathtaking views of the harbour and the Opera House. We hit the cocktail bar for some fancy pre-dinner drinks, choosing from a menu that offered Bubble Trouble', What She's Having', Popeye's Poison' ... and the one that had us all giggling - and which two of us chose - Liquid Love', with its combination of fresh watermelon, Frangelico, Tia Maria and watermelon liqueur.

With a couple of cocktails under our belts, the mood was jovial as we moved to the main restaurant. The food was promising and the promise fulfilled; pan-fried deep sea Canadian scallops, sweet potato gnocchi, Tuscan-style spiced seafood stew, pan-fried loin of lamb and fried duck breast.

Frankly, I was stuffed, but I never underestimate the Hill boys' capacity for food. Ty and Scott shared the fresh strawberries, and white chocolate ice cream, topped with a blueberry consommé.

We were all feeling mellow when we arrived back at Point Piper and while Simon and I wrote up a checklist ahead of their departure for Africa, Ty and Scott sat in the lounge where Ty basically repeated the strict instructions on staying safe while abroad that Lachlan had delivered the previous day. Simon and I looked at each other and smiled. Scott commented a couple of times that he was an adult and knew how to look after himself, but mostly he indulged his oldest brother's care and concern.

We eventually all turned in for the night, and despite the rollercoaster of emotions the he'd ridden in the past 24 hours, Ty was horny. It may have been the cocktails and the wine, but Ty was hot for a little `legal intervention'. I was happy to hammer the Lawyer's Oath into him and if I'm not mistaken, when I'd finished it was Ty who panted "so help me God!"

The sex? Awesome, as it always was with this beautiful man. But the joy for me was falling asleep in the arms of the guy I loved. And knowing he loved me, too ...


When we woke, Ty was in great spirits. For the last Sunday morning in what would be a long time, Scott turned up in our doorway just as breakfast was served and 20 seconds later, was burrowed in bed with us. He and his brother bantered, kidded and mocked each other through the morning, neither of them acknowledging just how much they were going to miss each other.

That only bubbled to the surface when we arrived at the airport in the late afternoon. With beanie pulled tight over his head and woollen scarf covering the lower part of his face, he walked with the boys and me to the departure lounge. All was superficially under control until the final boarding call came - several times in fact.

Ty sprang into action and scooped Simon up in a bear hug. "Have a fantastic time mate," he said. "Stay safe".

He stood back while I said my goodbyes to Simon, and then let me bid adieu to Scott, whose eyes were watering. Only when the boys' names were paged, did Ty and Scott look at one another. There were no words. Just a long, clinging hug that said "you're in my heart."

The boys abruptly picked up their hand luggage and headed for the check-in counter. No looking back. Until that final moment before they disappeared, when Scott turned back with tears streaming down his face, looked at his brother and said just loud enough for us to hear, "I love you, Ty." That's all it took. All the way to the car park Ty kept his head down as tears dropped from his face and splashed on his boots.

Ty was quiet on the drive home. I tried to reassure him that Scott and Simon would not only be OK but would likely have the time of their lives, but he simply nodded and gazed out the window. The bond between Ty and his brothers was foreign to me, but it was beautiful to witness.

Fifteen minutes before we arrived home, Ty's mobile rang and it was Lachlan phoning on the pretext of thanking Ty for the upgrade to Business Class but in reality, I knew he was checking that his brother was OK after seeing Scott off.

Ty perked up a bit during the call and was keen to know how Dot and Frank had reacted to the news. Apparently, the big announcement was to come later in the evening after dinner at the farm, but Lachlan was pleased to report that his Mum and Dad had really taken to Ellie, and she to them.

We arrived home to find George had dinner almost ready. On the balcony the three of us enjoyed an entrée of vegetable gyozo followed by a chicken and vegetable stir fry served with masses of steamed green vegetables. George had just finished cleaning up when Ty's mobile rang again and he took a call from Dot, who was overjoyed at Lachlan and Ellie's news. As expected, she was already planning what could be knitted and sewn in time for the baby's arrival. She handed the phone to Frank who was equally enthused at the prospect of being a grandparent. There appeared to be no disapproval at all of the couple's unmarried status.

Later in the evening, as we lay on the couches watching TV with George, Ty received a text from Scott to let him know he and Simon had arrived safely in Queensland, where they'd been collected from the airport by Simon's dad. We watched TV for a while longer and the next time I looked at my guy he was fast asleep. George and I watched a movie while Ty slept and sometime after midnight I woke Ty and steered him to the bedroom.


It was so late when we turned in that Ty and I overslept. In the morning, George let us be until the very last minute before rousing us, and I hit the ground running. I had only enough time for a quick shower and shave, a coffee and some toast, and I was out to door. Ty had more time to spare before he was due at Vince's office to sign release forms for the TV show and to be filled in on his flight and accommodation details, before spending a few hours in the studio with his engineer, working on demos.

My day was filled with heavy client meetings, artists wanting contracts fine tuned and clauses added or removed. I worked through lunch in order to be able to leave a little early, to pick up the groceries and wine that had been depleted by our recent full house.

I arrived home at 5 to find George sitting on balcony steps, a rigid-looking Floppy stretched out across his lap as George stroked her. Something wasn't quite right.

From the kitchen I called, "Is everything OK, George?"

There was a pause before he replied, "She's dead, sir."

My heart sank. George loved that cat.

"Oh George," I said, "I'm so sorry. But she was an old cat."

"Not Fluffy!" he smiled wanly, as the cat suddenly leapt off his lap. "My sister Hazel. The nursing home rang. She died last night."

I felt even worse. "George, I am so sorry. What did she die of?"

"Shortage of breath, sir," George replied, without missing a beat. "It claims us all eventually."

I ignored his bravado and sat next to him on the stairs. "Are you OK, mate?" I asked.

George sighed. "Yes, I'm fine sir. She was never the same after the stroke. She had dementia. For the past few months, she didn't know me from a bar of soap."

"Were you close, George?"

"When we were younger, we were, but not so much in more recent years, Michael," he replied honestly. "She was a bitter old lesbian in the final years. She'd never had one really happy relationship, and I think she always resented the fact that I had managed to have a happy life without a partner."

"She was still your sister, George. You've been part of each other's lives for more than 60 years. What needs to happen now?"

"Well I hate to ask, sir, but I need to go to Queensland to organize her funeral and wind up her affairs. It won't take very long I expect."

"Of course, George," I said, as I put my arm around him. "Take all the time you need to say goodbye. And if there's anything Ty and I can do, please ask."

Scruffy wagged his way up the stairs and nuzzled George, as dogs do when they sense something is wrong. I left George to sit for a while as I started preparing a quick dinner of steak and salad. I was in the lounge room when Ty arrived home and I quietly filled him in.

Ty was quick to join George on the stairs and offer whatever support he could. It was touching to see Ty put his arms around George and hug him; my boy understood better than me the true value of family.

"Hazel and I were the final two," I heard George say. "So that's it then, the end of the family."

Ty didn't flinch. "Maybe it's the end of that family, George," he said sincerely. "But you're so much a part of this family. Not just Mike and me, but Lachie and Ellie and Scott and Simon. We all love you George!"

That was the trigger I knew Ty was looking for. George hung his head and Ty, with his arm around our mate, let him cry it out.

Once George had composed himself, I served dinner and wine on the balcony and the three of us talked through the logistics of George's next few days. Despite George's protests that we'd already done enough for him in the time we'd all been together, Ty jumped online and booked an open-ended return flight to Queensland and 5-star accommodation in Coolangatta. Before it got too late, we shuffled George off to pack in readiness for his journey the next day.

Ty and I turned in for the night and, with George's sad news on our minds and our general tiredness, we assumed our customary position – me on my back, Ty with his head on my chest – and drifted off to sleep very quickly.


I woke early the next morning to find Ty was already up. I knew instinctively that George was on his mind and after throwing on boxers and a tee shirt, I wandered out to see Ty sitting on the balcony with George. They were deep in conversation, sharing coffee and toast. I only had to glance at the presentation to realise that Ty had made breakfast! But he was doing what he always did, playing big brother to someone who needed a shoulder.

I yawned and called, "Morning guys!" and they both looked up and responded. I poured a coffee and joined them at the outdoor table, and could see straight away that Ty was trying to prepare George for the difficult days ahead. His innate sense of family had driven him to reassure George that no matter what their differences, he and Hazel were karmically connected and that he should take as much time as he needed to find peace and say goodbye.

"Did you love Hazel, George?" I asked. The question took George by surprise and he was quiet for a while.

"I loved her because she was my sister," he said quietly. "I know there's that bond. But if I'm really honest, I don't think I really liked her all that much."

"Why?" I asked, and I flinched as Ty kicked me under the table.

There was a pause before George replied, "Gay siblings, sir. It was a connection we shared at first, but then I found my perfect partner. But Hazel never did. For her, they came and they went. And she just became ... resentful, even though my relationship came to an end the way it did."

"But you seemed to stay in touch with her," I continued. "You were there for her when she had the stroke."

George sighed. "That was an obligation, sir," he said. "She lived on her own and there was nobody else to look after her. But even that was awkward. She was very difficult. It was soon after that the decision was made that she'd go into a nursing home. And when the dementia set in, she was really in a world of her own."

I thought it was helpful for George to verbalise his feelings, so I continued. "So you've really had no one all these years, George?"

"Well, I had my job, sir," he replied. "And Floppy of course. And once a week I'd have a cup of tea with Mrs. Easton, the widow who lived in the flat below mine. She had trouble with arthritis so I'd pick up groceries for her at the weekends."

"Always helping people," I smiled. "Didn't you ever miss having someone in your life?" Again, Ty kicked me under the table.

George wasn't fazed. "I had my work, sir," he said. "I dealt with people all day long, and most of them were nice. And now I have you and Mr Hill, sir. And the rest of the boys. I very much feel like I'm needed and valued."

Ty and I looked at each other and winked. "Group hug time, George!" Ty enthused, as we went into a huddle.

"George," Ty continued. "This house works the way it does because of you. Mike and I couldn't keep on top of all the shit that goes on around here without you. The way you just make things happen and take all the stressful stuff in your stride spins me out."

"It's because he's got a lifetime of hands-on experience with high maintenance people, and a built-in mechanism to take other people's problems and solve them," I said.

"Nah," Ty replied, "it's because he's really old and he's just trying to keep us happy because he knows we're his last stop before the Twilight Home!"

Finally, we got a proper laugh out of George, and Ty slumped with relief.

"OK, old man," I ordered. "You've had your fun. Now go and make us something to eat that doesn't look like someone's already eaten it!"

"Hey!" Ty objected.

"Mate," I grinned. "Don't cook in the kitchen. We have help for that. You sizzle in the bedroom, that's enough."

"Fat sausages and hard-boiled eggs coming up, then," George muttered as he made his way to the kitchen.

"He's OK?" Ty asked.

"He's OK," I assured him.

After breakfast, George cleaned up and went off to prepare for his trip back to Queensland, while Ty and I went for a good run along the beach. Back at the house mid-afternoon, we were surprised to find George calling a cab.

"We're taking you to the airport, George," Ty said.

"No sir, you and Mr. Stewart have a lot to do before your flight to Melbourne tomorrow," George replied. "I'm happy to take a taxi."

Ty looked at me. I flipped open my mobile, called the taxi company we had our account with and cancelled the job. "Let's go, George," I sighed. "We'll take the Mazda."

En route to the airport, George droned on about the groceries he'd arranged to be delivered while he was away, reminded us how the washing machine worked, outlined the brand and amount of pet food both Scruffy and Floppy should have each morning and evening, and pleaded with us to make sure Floppy was inside the house at night.

By the time we got to the gate lounge, Ty and I were almost happy for him to go. I hugged him first and he ended it with a rundown of the foods he cooked and frozen for my few solitary days at Point Piper. The Carbonara should he used with the linguine, the frozen marinara could be served with spaghetti, or topped on steak if I was sick of pasta. Blah, blah ...

Ty got a hug next and George went into overdrive. He informed Ty he'd packed his suitcases for his trip to Melbourne with seven choices of clothes for three days, enough underwear and socks to not have to worry about having laundry done, and all the ablutions he might need for when his bathroom wasn't handy.

That wasn't all. He'd packed a smaller case with Ty's photographic fan cards, signing pens, several copies of both his albums in case he needed them, a mouth harp, a pitch pipe and several spare plectrums. Oh, and a small photo album with photos of me and his brothers, along with manuscript paper, pencils and erasers in case he found himself inspired by a melody.

"Well I'll be buggered!" Ty exclaimed, as he scratched his head.

That was George's cue. "Not by me, sir," he shot back as picked up his hand luggage. "It's not in my job description!" And with that, he wandered through the departure gate without looking back.

Ty looked at me and his smile betrayed a hint of concern. "He will come back, won't he?" he asked.

"Yeah, he'll come back mate!" I replied, and soon, we were on the road back to Point Piper, and our first night alone in the house for many months. Nothing was said, but despite the circumstances, we were both looking forward to having the place to ourselves, if only for a short time.

At home, we enjoyed a bourbon and coke on the balcony and then warmed up the lasagne George had prepared and took the cling wrap off the salad. We had a leisurely and enjoyable meal and shared a bottle of wine as the sun set. Ty spoke to Lachlan and his parents for a while and then put me on, and we repeated the process when he called Scott and Simon.

We agreed we'd have an early night and I was just undressing for bed when Ty's mobile rang. "It's Vince," he sighed. "I'd better take it."

He headed back to the lounge and for the next 30 minutes I lay in bed and listened as Ty and Vince argued over just about everything. Vince was, I guess, doing his job and trying to put Ty – the nation's top male singer – out there' in front of people so that big sales of Ty's product' would follow. But Ty had his standards and he was digging his heels in more and more about not doing anything that he felt compromised his artistry. His music and his need to communicate with people through it was his sole motivation. He basically didn't give a shit about the financial side; it seemed to scare him sometimes that he'd earned as much money as he had.

That's where Vince comes in. Vince generated all that money through shrewd planning and negotiation and so far, nearly every bit of advice he'd given Ty had lead to another golden egg. Ty would be happy enough to trot along behind Vince and do whatever he was told to, but not if it meant stepping outside his comfort zone, which was either on stage or in the recording studio. Ty scoffed at the idea of celebrity' but Vince knew he needed to make Ty more of a celebrity' in order to maintain and build on the substantial success Ty had already had.

As an entertainment I understood exactly where Vince was coming from. And as the lucky partner of a man who saw what he was doing as art, I absolutely understood where Ty was coming from too. And therein, my dilemma.

I found myself drifting off, and the last thing I remember is Ty turning his phone conversation with Vince back to the fact that he hadn't wanted to appear as a guest judge on `The Next Big Thing', but that he'd been pushed into it.

I mus have fallen soundly asleep, for the next thing I heard was Ty's exclamation, "Fuck! It's 10 to 8. I've gotta get to the airport!"

I rolled over and pulled him back down under the covers. "Sorry I fell asleep," I said sheepishly.

Ty sat up again. "It's OK mate," he sighed. "Sorry I was so long on the phone, but Vince was really pushing my buttons and we ended up having a blue."

"You guys are good, though?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it'll all blow over," Ty replied. "But I made it perfectly clear what I will and won't do in the way of promotion from now on. He was trying to get me to agree to do a film clip for the next single with me in Speedos on the beach with a bunch of chicks, for fuck's sake! I mean, what's he thinking?"

I laughed. "Well, you do look hot in Speedos mate!"

Ty groaned. "It's got nothing to do with my music," he said tersely.

"I know, I know," I reassured him. "Ty, just stick to your guns. From now on, listen to the proposal and if you don't want to do it, just say no. No further discussion."

"That's what I'm gonna do!" he said firmly. "We'd better get moving ..."

We climbed out of bed and while Ty shaved, I made coffee. He showered while I shaved and then I showered alone. Much as I'd have liked to start our week with some hot shower action, there simply wasn't time. We both had a bowl of cereal and some sliced fruit, Ty did a last minute check of the luggage George had packed, and we were on the road.

Ty drove, and dropped me at my office on his way to the airport. Knowing I wouldn't see him for a few days I wanted to kiss him, but parked outside a top law firm in one of the busiest streets of Sydney in peak hour is not really the place for one guy to play tonsil hockey with another guy.

"Can't kiss ya, mate," I apologised, "much as I want to."

"You can kiss me all over when I get back," he grinned. "I'm gonna miss you, Mike. Make me something special for dinner on Friday night, and I'll be dessert!"

We locked eyes for a moment before I got out of the car. I leaned in before I closed the door and said, "I love you Ty."

He winked and gave me his goofy grin. "Show me how much on Friday! It'll give me something to look forward to!"


The week ahead seemed to drag for me. Work was busy enough and I found myself in the middle of a nasty alleged breach of contract between the young male star of a top-rating TV soap and the production company he was under contract to. He'd been `held for questioning' after a police raid on a hotel room party at which revellers were enjoying coke – and not the fizzy kind. I had my work cut out for me convincing the company to let it go with a warning, especially since they'd already turned a blind eye when he'd been caught taking part in a threesome with one of his young female co-stars.

When I wasn't pleading his case to his employers, or laying down the law to the soap star, I was missing Ty. Returning home that first Monday night was the worst; the house was empty and I realised how long it had been since I'd actually been on my own.

Each night through the week I followed the same routine. I'd go for a walk on the beach with Scruffy and then return home and feed him and Floppy. I'd heat up a meal that George had thoughtfully prepared in advance and then, with Scruffy at my feet and Floppy on my lap, I'd sit and watch `The Next Big Thing'.

I was painfully aware each night of how uncomfortable Ty felt in the judge's chair, although he didn't make it obvious. He was a guest judge for the four nights of the week leading up to Friday night's grand final, for which he wasn't required. His advice to contestants for the first three nights was sound, and he was generous in his praise of all the singers. But I knew it was Thursday night's show that worried him most.

I'd spoken to him each day and assured him that he was presenting himself well, and that his comments to the contestants had been spot on. But he sounded despondent all the same. "I'm just not comfortable doing this sort of stuff," he'd sigh. "I'm a singer and a songwriter. Who am I to tell someone they won't make it as a performer?"

On Wednesday after the show, we talked for a long time and he shared with me his dread of the following night's elimination, when the decision to end the journey for one of the three hopefuls was his alone.

Thursday night's show opened with Ty performing an acoustic version of "Open Letter To You", the new single from `Hill Songs'. Any apprehension he had about his judging role evaporated when he started to sing and, as always, his performance was faultless. The audience and the regular judges were on their feet when it ended and Ty looked pleased enough when he took his bows.

He covered his discomfort as the final three contestants went through their paces, each trying their hardest to impress him. But when the crunch came, he was all but squirming. The producers made Ty's `big decision' a great moment of tension and drama and there was pain on his face when he announced that the youngest of the two male contestants would not be going through to the final round.

I tried to ring Ty immediately after the show ended but his phone was switched off, and remained off for several hours. I had just climbed into bed when my mobile rang and it was Ty, finally back in his hotel room. Far from being maudlin, he sounded upbeat and happy.

"It was a horrible experience, I hated every second of it," he insisted. "Then I was sitting in my dressing room after the show feeling lousy, and the boy's Dad walked in. I thought for a moment he was gonna thump me, but it turned out he could tell I hated making that choice and he wanted to see if I was OK!"

"So, there were no hard feelings?"

"Not at all. I talked with the Dad for a while and then the kid came along and he and I had a long talk about why I'd made the call, and he was really receptive to the advice I was giving him about note placement and technique."

"That's a better outcome than you expected, mate," I yawned. "You're sounding pretty up."

"Yeah, I'm glad it turned out way it did," Ty replied. "But I'm never gonna do that sort of thing again. It's just confirmed for me that that's not what I set out to do. Anyway mate, you're tired. Just wanted to check in and tell you I can't wait to see you tomorrow night!"

"Me too! You gonna turn in now as well?"

"Yep. Just one thing, though. How was my song?"

I chuckled. "You were great, mate! That studio audience was spellbound. And the sound mix was really clear."

"Phew!" Ty sighed. "The fold-back wedge wasn't working properly and I had trouble hearing myself. Good to know it sounded OK. G'night mate, love you."

"I love you too, mate. See you tomorrow."


On Friday morning, I woke before the alarm went off, so ready was I to get the day underway. Lying in bed I thought about the day ahead and was grateful that Ty wouldn't be arriving home until after 7 this evening, because there was much I needed to do to ensure this would be a special night for us both.

How I've missed him in our bed these past few nights. It's not so much the sex, more just knowing that he's there for me to snuggle against in the early hours, and to wake up next to. OK ... it's the sex too.

This morning, I was really missing him. How I wished he was there to start my day with the world's most kissable lips polishing that part of me that tells him – more than mere words could ever do – just how I feel about him. How I would enjoy lying back and letting him use his skills to bring me to the brink repeatedly, until that glorious moment I flooded his mouth.

How I would love right now to roll over, raise my hips and present my ass to him, a hot haven for his flesh soldier which so proudly stands `at attention'. To savour, with clenched fists, those few moments it takes for him to sink slowly inside me until his prick is completely sheathed, his ball bag slapping against my own. And then to settle in for the ride as he fucks me every which way to Sunday, delighting him with my skilful manipulation from within until he roars his release and fills me with his loving DNA.

But I needed to stop thinking about that right now, lest temptation get the better of me. I needed to keep my load for later.

Once up, I showered and dried myself. In the laundry, I retrieved the boxers and tee shirt Ty had worn the day before he flew to Melbourne; it would be my underwear today. I wanted to feel and smell him close to me as I prepared for his return.

Dressed, I sat in the lounge and started the list of what I needed to pick up. George, of course, always had the basics on hand; the stock, olive oil, butter, onion, garlic, lemons, parmesan and sugar. So that left me needing to buy arborio rice, asparagus, light soy sauce, chicken fillets, mirin, sake, fresh ginger and onion leaves.

I had eaten with Ty enough times to have a handle on his favourite dishes and they were the ones I would be making from scratch today. To the list I added flowers, essential oils and tea-candles before heading out.

In Double Bay I hit the supermarket, the butcher and the delicatessen in quick order, and then stopped at the boutique wine store I've come to frequent. I was welcomed by the sales guy who, though only in his 20s, seemed to know his wines. I explained that I was looking for an excellent Pinotage. He talked me through the range but his strong recommendation was the second vintage 2006 Black Label Stellenbosch Pinotage. It certainly wasn't cheap, but he's not steered me wrong so far. Everything he had suggested in the past, Ty had seemed to like, so the Stellenbosch it was.

I pulled into the driveway, making a rough calculation of the time required to get everything done as I hauled the elements into the house ...


Working backwards, I figured I'd leave the meal preparation till last, knowing I work best under pressure in the kitchen. So, first things first. I stripped off my clothes and stayed in Ty's boxers and tee, but quickly realised it was too few clothes. I went to our wardrobe and threw on his dark green Levi Red Tab shirt. It's the one he looks so hot in.

In George's absence, I vacuumed the lounge, set the table – all white, except for the burst of coloured tulips - with plates, cutlery, wine glasses, napkins and condiments. I opened the wine to allow it to breathe, and in the lounge and bedroom, I placed an oil burner ready to go with rose oil, and scattered tiny tea candles. I looked for – and found – the music I wanted for the evening.

Back to the kitchen I headed, trying to formulate a timetable in my head. Asparagus risotto first, for sure. I brought the stock to the boil then simmered it, before heating oil and butter in a saucepan, adding onion and garlic and cooking for a few minutes. I added the rice and then the stock, cup by cup until it had absorbed. The asparagus was next, and I stirred in the remaining stock until the dish was creamy, before adding lemon juice, rind and parmesan. That was one down!

For the second course, I started with a combination of mirin, sake, soy sauce and sugar. The chicken fillets were marinated for a while before frying. Once they were well fried I added the reserved marinade, lowered the heat, and let them simmer until the sauce had thickened. Once ready I chopped them into strips about half an inch wide. Two down ... two to go.

The sticky rice was next. I pondered for a moment why Ty couldn't be happy with normal rice, then shrugged. Who knows? He wants? He gets!

I poured the rice into the saucepan and ran it under cold water where it was swirled several times to remove the excess starch and then clean water was added and the "Mt. Fuji Method" employed. I covered the rice and placed it over a high-flame on the stove until it began to boil rapidly, and then I turned it down to the lowest simmer possible for 20 minutes. After resting, I fluffed it with a large spoon. Three down! Just dessert to go.

I greased and floured the pans, prepared the cake mix according to the directions, divided two thirds of batter between two pans, stirred instant coffee into the remaining batter and poured it into the last pan. I baked it for 25 minutes, turned it out onto a wire rack and let it cool, before I combined brewed coffee and a tablespoon of coffee liqueur and set it aside.

Now, the filling. Where the fuck is that electric mixer? Once I found it, I combined the mascarpone, the confectioners' sugar and a couple of tablespoons of coffee liqueur, and beat it until it was smooth. It rested a while and then I covered it with plastic wrap and refrigerated it.

Last step, the frosting. I cleaned the electric mixer set and then beat the cream, a quarter of a cup of confectioners' sugar and two tablespoons of coffee liqueur until it was stiff. I lost concentration momentarily as I thought about how stiff Ty would be later tonight. Usual response from me - swelling below the navel. Focus Michael!

I folded half a cup of cream mixture into the filling and suddenly I was at the assembly stage. One plain cake layer first and, after poking some holes, I poured a third of the coffee mixture over it, before spreading it with half the filling mixture. I topped it with a coffee-flavored layer and more holes were poked. Another third of the coffee mixture was poured over the second layer and spread with the remaining filling and then it was topped with the remaining cake layer. I spooned the rest of the coffee mixture over the top, and then coated the sides and top with frosting. I lightly dusted the top with cocoa and for effect, I garnished with chocolate curls. Into the fridge it went, my fingers crossed.

Dinner prepared, I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning the kitchen and just as I put the last of the cleaning products away, my mobile signalled a message from the outside world. Ty, as promised, was letting me know he was in his car and almost home. I had just enough time to kill the lights, fire up two oil burners and 30 tea candles, check the flowers and prepare two gin and tonics, before I heard whistling from the driveway. It's Ty, of course, and his whistling was always a sign that things were well.

Less than a minute later, the front door opened and there he stood, the man of my dreams. It took a moment for him to adjust to our home being lit purely be candlelight, but I noted his smile and the way his body seemed to relax.

I kissed him. He kissed me. I handed him his gin and tonic, and we both took a sip. We kissed again. Oh, and again. As I lost myself in his lips I thought about how much I want to fuck him. Damn. This isn't supposed to happen. I have to feed him first!

I sent him away with his gin, to change into something comfortable. He'd laughed at me wearing his used underwear and his favourite unfashionable shirt, but I knew at the same time, it turned him on. That ticks tonight's first box, though I intended turning him on so much more ...

While Ty changed for dinner, I did a last minute kitchen check – interesting when the only available light is candle flickers – and returned to the lounge to push play' on the CD player. I settled on the couch and waited for him, and soon enough, he joined me, wearing loose track suit pants and a soft black velvet cord shirt, buttoned loosely. When it was just the two of us at home, this was our idea of neat casual dress'.

He sank down next to me and was about to speak but I cut him off by covering his mouth with mine. It was immediately one of those kisses I daydream about, every day. Long, wet, sensuous and lazy. We communicated using just our mouths for a few minutes before I rearranged us; me sitting up, Ty lying flat on his back with his head in my lap. I ran one hand lightly through his locks, while the other roamed over his chest and tummy. We were silent, just enjoying the intimacy and the classical music backdrop, until it was time for me to serve the first course.

My fingers were lightly tickling the treasure trail that ran from Ty's belly button and disappeared under the waistband of his track pants. I should have been able to show restraint, but I couldn't resist. My hand slipped down into his pants, through his wiry pubes and took hold of his substantial yet still not fully hard cock. I sighed. He groaned. I squeezed. He groaned louder. I knew he could feel my cock expanding against the back of his head, but as he turned to explore, I slipped out from under him; I had food to prepare!

Straight away, that pouty look that drives me crazy. Unintentionally, I was teasing him. I leaned in and kissed him quickly, reassuring him that the wait would be worth it.

In the kitchen, I quickly heated the risotto, dished up two plates, added shaved cheese and returned to the lounge. I placed them on the table and smiled as I watched my guy; eyes closed, hand over his crotch, completely lost in music. I whistled softly and he opened his eyes and smiled.

He sat at the table opposite me and expressed delight at my first creation. As he savoured his first forkful, I poured us each a glass of Pinotage. Ty made quick work of his entrée and – genuinely I believe – remarks that it is the best asparagus risotto he's tasted. And I noted the Stellenbosch was worth the price, it was a beautiful wine.

As we ate, Ty chatted about his time in Melbourne, repeating that the talent show judging experience had been worth it if just to confirm in his mind that he would never again take on the role of crusher of other artists' dreams. I was reminded that he cares greatly about other people's feelings. It's another thing I love about him. Fuck, there are so many things ...

I cleared away the dishes and sent Ty back to the couch while I got the main course ready to heat and serve a little later. Walking back into the lounge, I noted that Ty was once again lost in a Concerto, legs spread, eyes closed. I tiptoed over to him and sank to my knees between his legs. When I started to drag his track pants down, his eyes flew open and he grinned, lifting his ass off the couch to enable me to pull them off and discard them.

I leaned in and licked my way down his trail to where his soft cock lay across his thigh. It is, for me, a thing of great beauty, with a personality all of its own. I lapped at it first then drew it into my mouth, and it quickly grew as Ty moaned. Fuck, I could suck this man's cock all night, so enjoyable is it to give him pleasure. Everything about him turns me on ... the velvety texture of his penis against my lips, its full rigid girth, his little moans of pleasure as I moved my mouth up and down his length, and especially the way he ran his fingers through my hair and held my head still when he was deepest in my throat.

I kept him on the edge for a while, enjoying the sounds he made when he thought I was going to let him cross the finishing line and then realised that I was not. When I did decide to end his torture, it was Ty who tried to hold back, tightening his tummy in a bid to delay his orgasm. But I'm simply too good for that to work for long. I played him like a fine instrument and despite himself, he started to thrust in rhythm with my mouth, his hand clamped down hard on the back of my head. With a long growl, he started to shoot and as he spewed his load deep into my mouth I looked up and watched his classic `Big O' face; eyes squeezed tightly closed, mouth open, head straining back against the cushion.

I swallowed the initial volley of spurts and kept his dick in my mouth as the last of his offering drizzled over my tongue. Eventually he loosened the grip on my head and I let him slide from the warmth, his penis flopping against his thigh with a slap. I sat up next to him on the couch and kissed him hard, letting him share with me the remaining semen.

As Ty pulled his track pants up and tucked his softening penis away for the time being, I returned to the kitchen and quickly heated his chicken teriyaki. I crossed my fingers as I peeled the foil off the dish of sticky rice. Luckily, it was perfect. I arranged the chicken, drizzled the sauce and sprinkled freshly chopped onion greens across it.

The effort in preparing it earlier had been worthwhile, just for the look of delight on his face when I put the dish in front of him. I am reminded of the way Scott's face lights up when ice cream and chocolate sauce suddenly appears on the table.

Ty told me repeatedly how great it tasted as he worked his way through the meal, methodically as always. Forkful of chicken, then a forkful of rice. By the time he'd finished, his plate was literally sparkling clean.

I cleared the table once again, and we wandered on to the balcony with our wine to stand and look at the Sydney lights dancing across the harbour. Ty walked up behind me, turned me around to face him and pulled me in for a long French kiss which only ended when I was in danger of passing out from lack of oxygen. His hand slid between my legs and he started manipulating me through his boxers. As always, my cock responded quickly and his hand slipped inside the fly and hauled my meat out. As horny as he was making me, I knew I must once again stall him. Dessert awaited.

I wriggled free from him, worked my erection back inside the underwear and walked backwards to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and removed the tiramisu. It had set perfectly. If Ty's idea of a great dessert is a properly made tiramisu then by Jove, I just might have done it!

I sliced two perfect squares and placed each one on a square white plate. I grated chocolate over the tops of each dessert and allowed the curls to fall around the plate. I took them to the table and set them down, and poured us a final glass of Pinotage. Ty looked in from the balcony and smiled at me, before moving inside and sitting opposite me.

He tasted the dish and made appropriate noises of approval. I was relieved! As he ate, I told him that while the origins of tiramisu are still debated today, one theory is that it was created in an Italian brothel as an energy boost for exhausted clients. He chuckled when I told him I'd saved seconds for much later in the evening.

Ty noticed that I hadn't yet tasted the dish, so caught up was I in his enjoyment. I picked up a spoonful, turned it upside down and placed it in my mouth, slowly pulling the spoon out and licking its surface provocatively. He groaned, and one hand fell beneath the table cloth, presumably to adjust himself.

I put my spoon down, and scooped up some of the mascarpone in my fingers. I suggestively stuck my fingers in my mouth and sucked them clean, while Ty watched intently. I scooped up more and offered my fingers to him. He sucked the mascarpone from them and then kept my fingers in his mouth and swirled his tongue around them. It's a technique he's mastered that I have become so familiar with.

We finished our dessert and adjourned once more to the couch. Ty thanked me repeatedly for his meal and the wine, and for loving him. The meal and wine, I told him, came at a price. My love for him has no price tag attached.

We lay together on the couch, kissing, touching and feeling each other. We were both ready for more and Ty excused himself and went to the bathroom. He returned and stood in front of me, his cock lewdly tenting his sweats. He held his hand out to pull me up, and once I was on my feet, he slowly divested me of his shirt, tee shirt and boxers before shedding his own clothes. We stood facing each other, both of us naked for the first time this evening. I held his face and kissed him as though I was a man dying of thirst and the only moisture to be found was inside his mouth. The moment stunned us both.

I pointed him towards the bedroom and while he disappeared I quickly extinguished the lounge room tea candles and padded softly in the bedroom I share with this beautiful man. I stood in the doorway, looking at him lying flat on our bed, his knees drawn up and lewdly splayed. Between them, his cock was pointing insistently upwards.

I stroked my throbbing prick lazily as I walked around to my side of the bed and grabbed a pillow, not once taking my eyes off Ty. I returned to the foot of the bed and knelt on the satin between his legs. I placed an arm under his knees and quickly hoisted his ass off the mattress in order to slip a plumped pillow under his hips. I lowered him again and leaned over his body, swooping in for a kiss.

The kisses earlier were sweet, languid. This one started out the same way but Ty began to move beneath me, rolling his hips and thrusting along my thigh, and the kiss became more urgent.

I pulled back and sat on my haunches, my eyes slightly glazed as I took in the sight of Ty's cock pulsing against his stomach. My own dick responded with a series of twitches as I watched my guy in heat. I ran my hands along his thighs, and then slowly up over his hips, the smooth expanse of his stomach and the bumps of his ribs until they came to rest on his chest. I squeezed his nipples gently and then moved my hands lower to the shaft of his cock. I started to slowly jack him with one hand while the other cradled his nuts and I leaned down to kiss his belly.

By the time I had finished loving his manhood, he was putty in my hands and he offered no resistance when I pushed his legs back further towards his chest and buried my face between the sweet cheeks of his ass. My tongue went to work on him; licking, bathing, loving. He squirmed, he grunted, he sighed and between times he wriggled forward to try and get as much of my tongue inside him as possible.

As his arousal peaked, I stopped my ministrations and repositioned myself, my knees either side of his butt. My cock was leaking enough to provide all the lube we needed, and I stretched out over him, my lower body snuggled between his thighs. The days of either of us having to hold my cock and position it at his entrance were long gone. Below us, out of sight, the eye of my cock winked at his hole. Ty's anus winked back and destiny somehow just drew them together.

My cockhead poised to impale him, I moved my mouth to his ear and whisper "I'm gonna fuck you now", and just as he replied "yes" with a throaty growl, I began to sink into him. I deliberately make my progress slow, enjoying the look of bliss that flushed his face.

When I was fully inside him, he furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on coping with the invasion. But as I started to move my hips and shallow fuck him, his face relaxed and he pulled me down to him and wrapped his arms around my back.

Locking lips with Ty while fucking him was one of my favorite turn-ons; my dick and my tongue simultaneously deep inside him just drives me nuts and spurs me on. Tonight though, I fought the temptation to lose control, and let my guy set the pace as we thrust and parried.

It had been some time since we'd allowed this much time to make love and it was sublime. Finally Ty ran out of borrowed time and started stroking his cock. I pushed myself back up to my knees and hauled him with me, lifting his ass into my lap and holding him tight as I jack-hammered myself into him.

We hit our peak together. Ty's ass clutched my ejaculating cock in its silky grip, pulsing around me and milking me as he too spurted his seed. My mating call was one long groan but the sound that spewed from Ty's throat was new to me; a grunt like a wild beast.

Our contractions subsided and when I opened my eyes to look at Ty, his tummy and chest were covered in his cum. His cock was softening and the look on his face was a combination of euphoria and relief.

We lay together, kissing each other in whatever spots we could reach. I rolled off him and we spooned, my slowly deflating cock still buried comfortably inside him. I clung to him and for a time, we both enjoyed our rasping breaths. We cuddled, and as the classical CD came to an end, the house was suddenly quiet.

I felt ... happy. Relaxed. Sated. Loved. I wrapped my arms around my man and there was no further need for words. We touched and kissed and eventually, we slept.


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

Next: Chapter 28


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