Out Of Tune

by Black, Fabian

  “Dam!” Gordon made a lunge for the cooker, “the soup has boiled over.” He removed the pan from the ring and then turned his attentions back to Nat. “Sit down,” he ordered, pulling out a chair out for him. “You look a bit shaky.”

  Nat sat down carefully at the table, still conscious of some tenderness in his hindquarters. He was also conscious of how ravenously hungry he was, waiting with barely concealed impatience as Gordon shared the vegetable soup between two bowls, finally setting one before him. He picked up his spoon and began to wolf it down. A few minutes later he was heaving chunks of carrot, potatoes and peas into the sink.

  “When did you actually last eat something?” Gordon wiped Nat’s sweating face with a handful of damp paper kitchen towels.

  Nat picked up a tone in Gordon’s voice that told of reawakened displeasure. He gave a cautious shrug.

  “How long?” The displeasure became still more evident.

  “Promise you won’t be cross with me again?”

  “No, and if I have to repeat the question again I’ll be more than cross.”

  Nat began shaking like the last leaf on a tree in an autumn gale. “I’ve been too miserable to eat much. I’ve missed you.” Tears began to slide rapidly down his pale cheeks. “I thought you were never coming home and then when I finally saw you yesterday I thought I was hallucinating.”

  “How long, Nathaniel?” The voice was quiet, gentle, but held a note of authority that could not be ignored.

  “Two maybe three days.”

  With his nose perched a few inches above its surface, Nat conceded that Gordon’s kitchen floor was indeed much cleaner than his own. His admiration of its pristine state was cut short as the hem of the shirt was flipped up and a hand descended on his bare bottom. He gave a howl of anguish, but that didn’t stop the hand rising and descending a good dozen or more times leaving his buttocks hot and stinging all over again. The floor then disappeared from view and he suddenly found himself sitting on the lap he’d just been bent over. The transition from front to rump hurt, but he didn’t dare say so, not with a pair of ice blue eyes fiercely glaring at him.

  “I love you.” Gordon wiped Nat’s tears with more efficiency than gentleness. “I adore you, but if you ever neglect to feed and care for yourself, either physically or emotionally, again, I will flay skin from your bottom, especially if you do it as a means of revenge on me. Do you understand?”

  Nat nodded his understanding with alacrity.

  Gordon took a deep breath, caressing Nat’s face with his fingers. “Don’t you think I missed you too? If you’d bothered to actually read the contents of the letter instead of surmising them, you’d have known exactly when I was due home, and you’d have been at the airport to meet me the day before yesterday.” The vivid eyes flickered, “I walked miles in the heat to mail that wretched letter. The journey home to England was bearable only because I thought I’d see you at the end of it. How did you think I felt when you weren’t there? I felt deeply hurt, just as I felt hurt when I saw how you’d conducted yourself while I was away. That was your objective though, wasn’t it, darling, to hurt me. You wanted to get back at me for going ahead with the trip, and also because you feared that my declaration wasn’t as real as yours, isn’t that true?”

  Nat reached his arms around Gordon’s neck. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry about the letter, about not being there to meet you, about everything. You’re right. I was scared you said you had feelings for me only out of pity, and that once you were away from me you’d regret saying you wanted a relationship. It seemed better to be angry than frightened, a kind of self-defence against inevitable abandonment.” He gave a derogatory little laugh, “I mean why would you want a relationship with me? I’m a useless idiot.”

  “You’re not perfect, neither am I, but you are neither useless nor an idiot. I don’t want to hear you use those terms in relation to yourself again. You have to trust me, Nat, trust me completely. Just because something doesn’t go the way you’d prefer it to go at any given time doesn’t amount to a rejection.” Wrapping his arms more tightly around Nat’s waist, he said seriously. “I think what you need more than anything in your life is structure, stability, a lot of love and a measure of discipline. I can provide all that, if you allow it.”

  Gordon wasn’t sure who made the first move. He only knew that when their lips met he thought he’d pass out with excitement. It was the most passionate kiss he’d ever experienced, and he’d had his share of kisses. “Stay with me, Nathaniel,” he finally caught his breath enough to speak, “stay with me always.”

  “I love you.” Nat’s heart was working overtime and his light-headedness was due in no part to hunger, “but what about your work? Even if I discharge myself from the system it will still be difficult for you. Having a homosexual affair is considered bad enough in most people’s books, but having one with someone who was a patient will cause a real scandal for you. The health authority might dismiss you for professional misconduct. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for putting you through that.”

  Gordon laid a finger against Nat’s lips, “they can’t. I’ve resigned. I served out my notice in India. That’s another thing you would have learned had you read that letter. I’m happy to have done so. Therefore no misplaced guilt is required or desired on your part. Incidentally, let’s get one thing clear. You are not yet ready to be fully discharged. You need clinical support and you need it from someone who is able to detach themselves from you in a way I can never do again.”

  A hint of sulkiness crept into Nat’s voice. “So I’m stuck with old sober sides John?”

  “No,” Gordon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He’s stuck with you. You owe him several apologies for wasting his precious time and for using him as a scapegoat for your disgruntlement with life. You’re keeping that appointment tomorrow. You’re going to be charm itself and if you’re not, you’ll have me to deal with. John’s a good friend as well as a colleague. He would have helped and supported you during our separation if you’d given him half a chance.”

  Nat’s stomach cut short the lecture by suddenly giving an enormous growl. Gordon grinned, “you sound like the present I brought you back.”

  “A present? It has to be a tiger if it growls and it’s from India.”

  Gordon pulled a face, “it might be an elephant with stomach ache. Anyway, I’m not telling and you’re not getting it until you’ve had something to eat, after which you’re going straight to bed. You look exhausted, you’ve got dark shadows under your eyes.”

  Nat scowled, “does extreme bossiness come naturally to you, or is it something you’ve worked hard to achieve?”

  “A natural gift I believe and you like it, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

  Nat ran seductive fingers through Gordon’s thick fair hair, “you can’t send me to bed oh dominant one, because you haven't made one up for me yet.”

  Gordon lightly kissed Nat’s throat, “as we’ve just become betrothed I think it perfectly appropriate that you consider my bed to be our bed from now on.”

  “Betrothed!” Nat laughed delightedly. “I like it. Do you promise not to molest me?”

  “Yes,” sighed Gordon. “I promise. However,” he twirled the ends of an imaginary villainous moustache, “the promise is only good until a second after midnight. After that I am no longer in the employ of anyone but myself. You will no longer be my patient and I am therefore free to ravish you completely and without mercy.”

  “I can’t wait. I’ve fantasised about it ever since that first stolen little kiss in your office the week before you went away.” Nat rested his head against Gordon’s shoulder, “where are you going to live when you sell your house. Are you planning on moving into my place?”

  “I wouldn’t move a rat into your place, not after the state you’ve let it get in. Don’t worry I’ve got plans, which you’d...”

  “…have known about had I read your letter instead of tearing it into confetti. Are you eve
r going to let me forget that letter?”

  “No.” Gordon tried to look serious, but failed. “Eventually perhaps, once the six mile round trip in the sweltering heat on foot has faded from my memory. Jump up now, sweetheart, before you get me too excited to walk let alone keep my promise not to molest you. I want to heat you some more soup. We’ll take it more slowly this time.”

  “It’s got your colour eyes.” Nat squeezed the plush Bengal Tiger, grinning as a roar reverberated around the bedroom. “It growls like you too.” Kneeling up on the bed he hooked an arm around Gordon’s neck and kissed him, “thank you. It’s beautiful. I love it and I’ll treasure it always.” He lay back down on the bed, suddenly tired. “Don’t leave me up here on my own. I want you near me. I’ve waited long enough.”

  “I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be completed and taken to the hospital tomorrow. I can just as easily do it up here. I’ll finish off downstairs first. Keep the bed warm for me.”

  Nat was sound asleep, the toy tiger clutched to his chest when Gordon re-entered the bedroom less that half an hour later. Slipping into bed beside him he was conscious of a deep sense of peace and happiness. This beautiful man was his soul mate. Nat seemed to sense he was there, instinctively moving closer.

  Part Four

  ~~~

  “So this is it.” Nat gazed up at the big Victorian house with interest. “Needs a lot of work.”

  “How do you know,” teased Gordon. “You haven’t been inside yet?”

  “I can sense it.” Nat slipped an arm through Gordon’s and leaned against him. “The house is talking to me. It wants us to move in and make it live again. Look at its friendly expression. If ever a house was capable of smiling, this is it.”

  “I know what you mean,” Gordon gazed at the house. “I liked it the moment I saw it. I felt a connection, irrational though that sounds.” He rummaged in his coat pocket for the door keys. “Let’s get inside before we freeze. The central heating is a bit archaic, but it functions well enough for the time being.”

  “Home!” Nat stepped over the threshold, halting abruptly in the hallway turning lustrous eyes on his partner. “I really feel that I’m home.”

  Gordon caught him in his arms. “We’re both home,” he said, kissing Nat’s lips. “Come on, my bonny man. I’ll show you upstairs first.”

  Nat gave a sigh of deep contentment. “I suppose this ought to be our bedroom seeing as we’ve just made love in it.”

  Gordon pulled him closer against his side. “We’ve had sex of one kind and another in three of the bedrooms so far.”

  “I know, but I feel we really peaked in here.”

  “This is definitely our room then.” Gordon gave his watch a glance. “I suppose we ought to do some shopping. Our love might keep us warm, but it will do nothing to fill our stomachs. We need foodstuff for over the holiday.”

  “You can shop. I’ve done enough today. I had John bending my ear for an hour, and then you made me clean the flat from top to bottom and didn’t raise a finger to help.”

  “I wasn’t going to ruin my best suit by doing housework in it, besides I wasn’t responsible for the mess it was in.”

  “I could argue that point.”

  “And I could spank you and stand you in a corner for half an hour or so in order to mull over the nature of responsibility.”

  “I’ll shut up then.”

  “Very wise,” Gordon grinned. “Let’s have five more minutes then we’ll have to move.” They cuddled together in pleasurable silence enjoying the intimacy of skin against skin.

  “HOPE!” Nat suddenly sat up straight and said the single word in Archimedean fashion.

  “Hope what?” A puzzled Gordon sought clarification.

  “The name for the house, we’ve got to have a name.” Nathaniel lay back down on the pile of blankets they’d improvised as a bed. “Do you remember when I tried to tell you how I felt when I had my breakdown? How all the things I’d crammed and hidden away inside my mind suddenly came tumbling out, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I felt like I’d opened Pandora’s box and unleashed all manner of bad things that I could never defeat.” He stopped speaking, fighting a sudden surge of emotion as old pain re-visited.

  Gordon took hold of his hands and held them, “it’s all right,” he said gently. “Take your time. I’m listening.”

  “You said that then as well. I think that’s when I fell in love with you,” Nat smiled shakily as he got himself under control. “You knelt down in front of me and you took my hands and you asked me if I knew what the last thing was to flitter from Pandora’s box. Do you remember what it was, Gordon?”

  “Of course I do. Hope was the last thing out of the box. The one thing that could help the world bear all the unhappiness unleashed by poor Pandora. Hope House. Yes,” he nodded thoughtfully. “I like that very much. Hope House it is.”

  Nat smiled, kissed Gordon on the lips and then said somewhat regretfully, “I suppose we really should be making a move to get dressed and go into town. I haven’t got you a Christmas present yet and I’d love to get a Christmas tree, our first in this house, and some baubles and tinsel, and of course a turkey and trimmings and some mince pies. I like mince pies, especially with cream, we need chocolate too, ooh and wine and…what are you grinning at?”

  “You and your ever expanding shopping list, you’ll bankrupt us at this rate. The shops will be open for another hour or so. We’ll probably get some bargains. As for a present for me, there’s no need, none at all.” Gordon caressed Nat’s face, “you’ve just named our house. Along with you that’s more than gift enough for me. You can wrap and seal it with a kiss or two.” He drew the blankets up around them both.

  One Year Later

  Gordon and Nat’s discipline relationship is tested when a conflict of interest arises between them and Gordon exercises his Alpha status

  December 1982

  Nat stopped playing, his heart quickening as a pair of familiar shoes halted on the pavement in front of him. It wasn’t so much the shoes that caused his heart to pick up pace, as the feet contained within them or more accurately the person attached to those feet. Keeping his eyes fixed on the shoes he said, “you didn’t mention that you were coming into town. I thought you had a client booked in for this afternoon?”

  “Something came up and she phoned to rearrange the appointment. I thought I’d just nip out to get your prescription filled. The prescription you left on the kitchen dresser, the one you were supposed to get on your way home, after…” the shoes put heavy emphasis on the next words…“completing your research in the library.” There was a loaded pause and then. “I didn’t realise the library had gone open air, and not a book in sight. Most interesting.”

  Nat scowled at the shoes. “I did go to the library, but it was full of noisy school kids. I couldn’t concentrate, so I left.”

  The shoes expressed scepticism at Nat’s claim. “I suppose you just happened to have your guitar and a collecting tin with you on the off chance that the library would be full of noisy school kids?” Nat didn’t reply. Gordon stooped and picked up the collection tin, peering inside. It contained a fair array of coins. The fast approaching season prompted people to generosity on a larger than usual scale, especially if cajoled by a tune to match the sentiments of the season, and even more so if the busker was as boyishly attractive as Nat was in his shabby jeans and oversized shirt. Tipping the coins into his hand he then slipped them into his coat pocket. Glancing quickly around he spotted what he wanted and walked over, depositing the tin into a convenient litterbin.

  Nat watched from beneath lowered lashes as the shoes made their way back to him. So far he had not raised his eyes above their level. “I liked that tin,” he addressed them resentfully. “It was my lucky tin. We’ve been together for ages.”

  “You’d been together since yesterday evening when you polished off the mint humbugs it contained. Apart from that, inanimate objects of any description do not
possess the power to change fortunes either for the good or for the bad. Besides,” there was a hint of crispness in the voice, “it doesn’t seem to have proven lucky today, certainly not in one respect. Get up. We’re going home.”

  “What about my money? I earned that.”

  “Earned isn’t perhaps the word I’d choose and while I fully acknowledge your claim on it, I haven’t yet decided whether that claim deserves to be honoured in view of the circumstances. It’s something I’m going to have to give serious thought to. Now get up. I won’t tell you again.”

  Nathaniel rose to his feet, picking up the jacket he’d been using as a cushion and slipping it on before silently following Gordon across the road to the car parked by the cinema. He put his guitar on the back seat along with the thick strand of sparkling silver tinsel he’d been wearing in place of a scarf. People liked a little bit of window dressing at Christmastime. He climbed in the front of the car. The journey home was quietly tense with both driver and passenger keeping their eyes fixed straight ahead.

  As soon as they got indoors Gordon helped Nat out of his jacket with customary courtesy plus a hint of crossness as he observed, “you’re stone cold.”

  “No doubt you’re looking forward to rectifying that, at least for one part of my anatomy.”

  “Don’t push me, Nathaniel, not in the circumstances.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nat looked Gordon in the face properly for the first time since being discovered outside the cinema.

  Gordon nodded a stiff acceptance of the apology, “go and shower.” He touched his fingers lightly to Nat’s face, his demeanour softening. “Go on, darling. It’ll help warm you through. I’ll make a start on dinner and then we’ll discuss things. Okay?”