Copyright Alex Douglas 2009
Author's note: This is a revised version of a previous unfinished story. It's taken me 6 years to finish it, so finally here it is. All feedback greatly appreciated. Email me at alex_d0uglas@yahoo.co.uk and I'll do my best to reply.
= = = = =
"What do you mean, it failed?" Sean stared at the mechanic. "It's been serviced and everything."
The man straightened up, rubbed at the small of his back. His face was streaked with grime, impassive. "Mate, if this car was a dog, I'd just get it put down. I don't know who you took it to, but..." His voice trailed off, leaving Sean's mind to fill in the blanks. The mechanic shrugged and let the bonnet fall shut. "You're looking at a new engine at the very least, and there's a problem with the wheel alignment. And I don't know if you noticed the hole starting to rust through the floor? Going to do a Freddy Flintstone job someday?" He threw back his head and laughed, holding his belly. Then his eyes fell on Sean's crutches. "Hey...maybe not!" He laughed even harder.
It was only a car, but Sean was saddened by the news that it would soon be on its way to a scrapheap. He ran his hand along the roof. There were so many memories attached to it. First day at the big school. Sean had been almost as shiny and new as the car itself, scrubbed and red-faced in his new uniform. It was the only time his father had driven him there; the only reason he had done so was because a new off licence had opened near the school with a better selection of wine.
First kiss too. Or at least, the first one that had stirred anything inside. What was his name? Glen something. Hair as black as oil and often as shiny, striking eyes that were such a pale shade of green it was amazing he could see out of them. He'd lived a few doors down for six months or so. It was the motorbike that had caught Sean's eye, or so he'd told himself. Glen was showing him how to fix something, or check something, he couldn't remember. The garage smelt musty as they started looking for a spanner and ended up with Glen sitting back against the bonnet of the car, legs wrapped around Sean, pulling him into his limbs like a spider. Glen got sent to a juvenile detention centre a few weeks after that, which was just fine, and Sean never saw him again. It gave him a convenient exit back into the world of denial, where he'd stayed until that fateful night with Cal at the final fling.
The car had seen other firsts, and some lasts as well. Sean didn't want to think about them. And this day was to be its own "last". It had finally failed the MOT, and failed spectacularly. He checked his watch and groaned. Now he would have to take a bus. He looked out of the garage at the darkening sky and frowned, pulling out his phone and texting Cal to say he would be late. Just as he was tucking it back into his pocket, it vibrated. A message from Owen. "What time 2day?"
"Busy with car, txt u later." As he hit "send", he felt the familiar guilt creeping over him. There was no point trying to tell himself, or Owen, that it was only lunch. That it might not even be a date at all. Just a "sort of- something like that." In fact, it might well just be lunch. Or not. He smiled despite himself, and pulled the zip up on his leather coat. Maybe now the car had finally conked out, it was time to get a new motorbike.
As he left the MOT centre and headed across to the bus stop, he listened to the click of his crutches on the ground and was glad to have them, because if his leg was totally healthy he'd be dancing around the street lights and singing in his heart and looking like a big mad queen with the biggest smile ever. The drably-dressed townspeople would throw off their fleeces and Peter Storms, dump their Tescos bags and join in the singing, like some kind of downmarket Bollywood film.
The bus came just as the rain started in earnest. He got on and sat beside the window, watching the drops race across the glass, trying to occupy his mind with trivial things so he could relax. He flexed his leg, feeling the muscles bunching, relaxing, bunching, relaxing. Just another week or so and he could kiss goodbye to the crutches. Then there was Christmas to look forward to, Jack's first. Megan was so excited about it she'd been decorating her house since November. The bus was slow, and Sean felt his blood starting to itch with excitement as the city centre approached.
The restaurant was small and decorated in garish red. The lunchtime rush was tailing off. Only a few people were left, sipping coffees. A miserable bunch of smokers were huddled outside, coats braced against the bitter wind. The bus stop was right outside it and Sean shivered as he looked at the door. Now he was there, he was almost too nervous to go in. But it was too cold to hang around in the street and, with a sympathetic glance at the smokers, he pushed the door open.
Cal was sitting in the corner, his long coat draped over the back of his chair. He was sipping a glass of red wine and fiddling with his mobile phone. He was wearing a red shirt and black jeans, as if he had dressed to match the restaurant. As Sean approached, he noticed Cal's wedding ring on a chain around his neck. It made him feel sad to see it, for a second. Then Cal looked up and smiled, and Sean forgot about everything except the warmth in his heart.
"Hey," Cal said. "I'm sorry, the buffet's closed. Makes a change, you being the late one."
Sean smiled and sat down. "Yeah," he said. "Well, you know me. I like to make an entrance."
They ordered a bottle of wine and some food and chatted for a while, about Christmas shopping, the weather, Sean's car. "Did you go to Jeff's exhibition?" Cal asked.
Sean looked at the table. "No," he confessed. "I wouldn't know art if it hit me in the face. I didn't want to be there looking like a Philistine with all those know-it-alls poncing around." He thought of Jeff's friends, at least the ones he'd met at the funeral, and shivered. They'd made him feel stupid and badly educated, and he hated that more than anything.
Cal grinned. "Know-nothings, you mean." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'll let you into a secret that no one else knows," he said. "Jeff painted a cock somewhere in all of his paintings. Makes it really good fun to look at them, to try and find it. So far no one's noticed."
Sean laughed. "why would he do that?"
"It gave him great pleasure to imagine the art world marvelling at his cock," Cal said, smirking at the thought. "It was a self-portrait, kind of."
They smiled at each other for a second, then Sean said, "So, you're OK with this?"
Cal shrugged. "Jeff knew I loved him," he said. "That's all that matters, really. We talked a lot, you know, about what would happen after." The fingers of his right hand settled on his ring finger again, but there was nothing to twist so he folded his hands. "If there's one thing about cancer, it makes you honest."
There was a silence, but it was a companionable one. Cal sipped his wine and looked out of the window at the umbrellas, bursts of colour on a dull day.
"So, What are you doing for Christmas?" Sean asked, playing with his napkin.
Cal smiled. "Going to mum's," he said. "Dad and I are sort of talking again. At any rate, he wants to see me, whether he's actually forgiven me or not. What about you?"
"Just going to Meg's. Jack's first Christmas and all. She's shopping up a storm, bless her." Sean grinned, thinking about the last time he'd seen her, joking how she'd need to take a donkey shopping to carry all the bags. "That's great news, by the way, about your dad. I'm glad."
"You don't see your folks any more? You never talk about them, I was wondering, like."
Sean looked at his hands. "They're dead," he said eventually, meeting Cal's eyes.
Cal's mouth hung open for a second. "Oh my god!" he said. He took a breath as if to continue, but let it go, and stared at Sean. Just then, the waiter came with the food, a sizzling hot plate of beef and mushrooms, some sweet and sour chicken and a bowl of rice enough for ten people. When he went away, Cal spooned some rice onto his plate, his face flushed. "I'm sorry if I've put my foot in it."
Sean shrugged. "You haven't," he said, pushing his plate towards Cal. "Dish some of that rice out, I'm starving."
They ate in silence. The mention of his parents had thrown Sean a bit. Cal was the only person in his life apart from Megan who remembered he had ever had parents, of course he'd ask. He thought of the car again. It would soon be a mangled box of junk metal, unrecognisable. The last remnant of their life as a family, gone for good. He'd patched it up as best he could, but it hadn't been enough in the end.
Cal was starting to look uncomfortable. "Look," he said, watching Sean polishing off the last of the beef, "are you OK with this?" His brown eyes were earnest. There was a smudge of sweet and sour sauce on his chin, and without thinking, Sean leaned forward and thumbed it off.
"This?" Sean said. "Going on a date with you?"
Cal pushed his plate away, dumping his napkin in the middle of it and rubbing his face. "Yes," he said. "After all that's happened, I wouldn't be surprised if you were...having second thoughts."
His insecurity made Sean's heart pump harder. "Cal," he said. "I don't know what you think is going on here, but I'm fine with it. Just a bit sad today because of the car and whatever. But..." He was starting to lose himself in Cal's gaze. One of the buttons of Cal's shirt had come open. He was seized with the urge to slide his hand inside, to feel the skin underneath. He remembered the feel of Cal's nipple hardening on his tongue and blinked. He picked the final shred of beef off the plate and chewed on it.
Cal leaned forward. "I've been thinking," he said. "Maybe we should go slow. Like, it's been so long since I've...well, been out on a date, I don't know... Maybe we should get to know each other again, properly, like." His fingers were rubbing over the space where his wedding ring had been, his leg jiggling under the table.
"OK," Sean said. He gestured to the waiter for the bill. "You can start with helping me carry my Christmas shopping. It's a bitch trying to carry bags with these." He nodded at the crutches. "Then you can drop me off home, if you like. I don't much fancy taking the bus."
If Cal wanted to go slow, then he could do that. It was already more than he had ever hoped.
Cal smiled. "You want to go shopping with me?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Most people would run for the hills."
Sean laughed. "If that's a challenge, you're on."
= = = = =
Six hours later, Sean found himself sitting on a stool in a shoe shop, watching Cal try on yet another pair of boots and sighing. The shop smelt of leather and socks. It was dark outside, and a dusty snow was starting to fall. He'd bought Megan and Jack's presents within the first thirty minutes, and trailed around after Cal for the remaining time. If it had been anyone else, he would have been bored to death. But he loved the look in Cal's eye when he saw something he liked, the way his face would light up and he'd smile like a child, although Sean couldn't really fathom how someone would ever get excited about a pair of boots. Still, seeing Cal happy was reward enough.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Owen again, wondering what was going on. Sean took a breath and replied. "With Cal - in town shopping." He paused before he pressed send. Owen would know what that meant. He wondered if he would reply.
"Do these look OK?" Cal was walking around and posing in front of every mirror, gazing at himself critically.
They looked like every other pair Cal had ever worn. "They look great," Sean said, smiling, hoping he looked sincere.
Minutes later, another box was added to the collection. Sean wondered how Cal was going to carry everything. But he gathered the bags together like an expert. "I'm done," he said. "I'll take you home. You must be bored shitless."
"Not at all," Sean said, standing up, stretching the stiffness out of his leg. "Was that all you got? I could have gone for longer."
Cal laughed. "Well next time, you can come to London with me and I'll show you what shopping really is. This was just,like, a quick look around."
Sean couldn't help groaning. "OK, you win."
Luckily, Cal had parked nearby. It wasn't hard to spot the Audi half on the pavement, the back side sticking out into the traffic. There was a parking ticket tucked under the windscreen wiper. Judging by the way Cal was muttering to himself, that wasn't the first time he'd got one. He bitched about traffic wardens all the way back to Sean's.
The snow was starting to lie, making the streets look clean and virginal. The heater blew warm air into Sean's face. He was starting to sweat as the Audi pulled into his street. The house next door to his was becoming something of a local attraction, adorned with Christmas lights of all shapes and sizes. There was a life size Santa Claus on the roof, a sleigh, a couple of reindeer. Their heads nodded as Santa lifed his leg up and down and the lights flashed on and off. It made Sean's house look bland.
"Oh my god," Cal exclaimed. "Thats's garish. I love it!"
After helping Sean inside with the shopping, Cal hovered by the door, his coat pulled around him. "So," he said."Thanks for the shopping trip. And lunch. It was...fun. "
It had been so long since lunch that Sean was hungry again. He longed to invite Cal to stay for dinner. He leaned against the wall. "It was a pleasure," he said. Cal was so close, he could have reached out and touched him, but he forced his hands to stay by his sides. His stomach let out a growl as he felt a familiar tingle in his groin as his body announced its demands, not caring who saw or heard.
"So," Cal said again, his eyes on Sean's. His dark gaze was giving Sean tunnel vision. He couldn't look away, or keep the grin off his face.
"Yeah," Sean said. "So. Are you going or what?"
Cal sighed and stepped forward. "I don't think so," he murmured, and slipped off his coat. It fell to the ground in a heap, but Sean didn't notice as Cal's lips found his and he was lost. It was light and slow at first, the touch of soft lips and fingertips on his cheeks, then Cal pulled away. His hands were hot as he took hold of Sean's face. "Close your eyes," he whispered. Sean did as he was told, and felt the heat of soft, deliberate kisses falling on his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead. Then again, on the corners of his mouth. Cal's breath was hot and minty from the gum he'd been chewing. When his tongue parted Sean's lips and crept inside, he sucked on it for a second, before his trembling hands came alive and pushed their way under Cal's sweater, spreading out on the smooth skin, pulling him closer.
Locked together, they stumbled upstairs and into the bedroom. When the back of his legs hit the bed, Sean collapsed onto it, gasping. Cal stood in front of him, breathing hard. His face was illuminated on and off by the faint glow of the neighbour's flashing decorations. He went round the side of the bed and turned on the lamp. It cast a red glow around the room. He pulled off his sweater and draped it over the back of the chair. The belt came next, then his jeans, then his briefs. His cock was already hard, the skin around it white, the tan lines clear. Sean's eyes widened. "You shaved?"
Cal smiled. "Waxed," he said. "And yes, it hurt like a bastard. I kind of like it, though."
Looking back at Cal's cock, Sean thought he was going to burst his jeans. He sat up, pulling off his jumper, as Cal crept onto the bed. "Allow me," Cal said, pulling at Sean's belt, his eyes never leaving Sean's. His deft fingers soon had Sean's buttons open, and he slid the rough denim down over Sean's hips towards his knees. His boxers came down with them and his rigid cock slapped against his stomach as it was freed. He felt Cal's gaze brush over his skin, the silence filled with their breaths. "Lovely," Cal chuckled. "I always wanted to see if it looked as good as it felt. You got lube?"
Sean pointed at the bedside cabinet. He could barely speak, breathless with anticipation as he watched Cal pull the tube from the drawer then straddle him. At the touch of Cal's flesh on his, he couldn't help groaning. It was the first time Cal had ever touched him there, and he shuddered and strained upwards as if his body was acting independently, his cock pushing into Cal's slippery hand. Cal's eyes locked on his again, and the look of lust on his face was like an aphrodisiac all in itself. Cal pressed Sean's cock against his own, and started sliding his hands up and down, up and down, slowly, achingly, until Sean was almost writhing with the need for harder, faster contact. Trapped between Cal's thighs, he could do nothing but lie there and soak up the tortuous feelings of pleasure that flooded his body as his cock pulsed and throbbed in Cal's hand. Cal's cock was leaking all over his, the slippery hot pressure of it driving him insane. Cal was breathing faster and faster, his movements speeding up until finally he came. Sean watched the veins standing out on his neck as he let out a cry and threw his back, his orgasm hitting Sean like a quake. He felt it in his balls, in the squeeze of Cal's thighs, the twitch in Cal's balls as his sperm shot out over Sean's stomach and cock. He was almost there with too, but when Cal finally relaxed again. he slid back down Sean's body. Still breathing hard, he began to lick his cum off Sean's stomach, running his slick tongue over the head of Sean's dick, bathing it in his his own fluids. Eventually taking it into his mouth and sucking until Sean was clutching at the bedsheets and firing deep into his throat, helpless under the force of his climax.
Then the kiss, deep and slick and wet, the taste of their combined orgasms on Cal's tongue. When Sean could see again, he rolled over, taking Cal's hands in his and kissing his fingertips, gazing into his eyes. "That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen," he said, as his breathing settled again, warm waves still radiating through his body, his heart.
Cal smiled and cuddled against him, sliding a leg in through Sean's. His finger circled Sean's nipple, then brushed over the scar at the side of his chest. "What's that?"
"Chest tube," Sean said. "From the accident. My lung got punctured when my ribs smashed."
"My god," Cal whispered, resting his head on Sean's shoulder, spreading his hand out over Sean's sticky stomach.
Sean stroked his hair, thinking of that day for the first time in ages. "It was raining, and there must have been an oil patch or whatever, the bike just started to slide and my leg was caught underneath it. I just remember thinking "oh shit", but not much after that. If it wasn't for the paramedics, I wouldn't be here." Saying that had become almost automatic, every time he told the story. But with Cal's warm body pressed against him, he finally knew how much it mattered. For a long time, he'd been bitter about the loss of everything he'd built his life around, just from a second's carelessness. He breathed in the smell of Cal's body and closed his eyes, wondering how it was possible to be so happy. "I lost one life, I got another one," he said sleepily. "I'd go through it all again, just to be with you."
Cal was silent, running his hand over Sean's stomach, playing with his belly button. "Promise me something, Sean," he said, looking up into his face. He shook his head and bit his lip. "Don't," he said. "Don't get another motorbike."
"Come here," Sean said, and pulled Cal into his arms, kissing his head. "You'd love it," he said. "I'll take you out on a bike someday, the wind just blows your head off and apart from skydiving, it's as free as you'll ever feel. Plus, you'll get to sit with your arms around me and your cock at my arse. What more could you want?"
There was a snort of laughter. "I'm just scared," Cal said eventually, his breath hot against Sean's skin. "I keep thinking...something awful's going to happen."
"My boss at the skydiving centre has this tile on the wall behind his desk," Sean said. "It says 'if you aren't afraid, you have nothing to lose.' I always thought that was, like, positive. But it's a bad thing, really, isn't it? Not to be afraid of anything?" He looked at Cal's face, the worry lines hovering in his forehead, and traced them with his finger. "I swear to you, as long as I'm alive, I'll never leave you. Now that's my words of wisdom for today, why don't you make yourself useful and go and make some fucking food? I'm starving."
Cal sat up and smiled. "I love you," he said. A glint came into his eye and he raised an eyebrow. "Salad?"
"Depends what you're using for the dressing," Sean said, laughing. "That last stuff did wonders for my hair."
He watched Cal getting up, reaching for his shirt, tripping over his pants and laughing. His heart was thumping in his chest, almost bursting with happiness. All the small stuff, always the small stuff. The sign of Cal's white arse was making him hard again. He checked his watch. It was only eight o'clock. It was going to be a long weekend.
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-THE END-