Dreamspinner Press Years One & Two Greatest Hits

by J. M. Colail

  “You cheeky bastard,” John laughed.

  “So what do you do, John?” David asked carefully, still unsure of his boundaries when it came to John’s personal life.

  The question threw John a bit but he tried to answer it honestly. “I don’t know anymore. I used to spend the day working, you know, meeting clients. Now… now I want to spend it with you.”

  David could easily see the color rise on John’s face and didn’t quite know how to react to that. He looked away and said softly, “Jamie might be more fun.”

  “Oh God, I get enough of him during the week.” John chuckled but suddenly realized that David knew about him and Jamie.

  “You know we got together once, but that’s all it was… a bit of fun.”

  David wondered why John felt the need to explain that to him and said simply, “I know. Jamie told me.”

  John looked at him, concerned that David would think this was the same thing, but David gave him a reassuring smile. John fought the reemergence of the butterflies and leaned in to gently kiss him. When the kiss was returned his hand closed around the top of the quilt and slowly began to pull it down.

  David’s horror at being so exposed was instant and he grabbed at the quilt, but John covered David’s hand with his own and gently loosened his grip. “It’s okay, Dave.” David let go of the fabric and closed his eyes. John recognized the action as one of embarrassment rather than fear and ran his fingertips slowly over David’s chest, laying a soft kiss just behind his fingers. John’s hand flattened so that the warmth of his palm spread through David’s flesh and traveled down until it rested on David’s belly.

  “So beautiful,” John murmured and kissed just below his belly button.

  David opened his eyes at the unexpected words and frowned when he caught John’s eyes.

  “Believe me, David,” he grinned. “A bit thin but that’ll change.”

  The heat built under the palm and David mumbled, “Too hairy.”

  “Okay, hairy and beautiful,” John laughed before pulling gently at a curl.

  David’s eyes locked on John’s fingers as they stroked the trail of dark hair descending from his naval. John watched the rapid rise and fall of David’s belly as the rate of his breathing increased.

  Slightly embarrassed by his response to the attention, David shifted his leg in a vain attempt to hide the thickening of his cock. Noticing this, John slid his hand down the pale skin of David’s thigh, opening him up again. “That is not something to be ashamed of.” To prove his point he kicked the quilt off the bed, revealing his own burgeoning erection.

  David smiled and lifted his hand to John’s arm, running his fingers up and over the smooth skin of his shoulder. So fair…. He looked up into those green eyes before his hand slipped to the back of John’s neck and carefully pushed his fingers into the hairline. John shuffled closer until he could feel the length of David’s body aligned against his own. Despite David’s physical response, John still felt the need to say, “You know you don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to.” David didn’t answer other than to kiss him.

  Although their bodies ached for more, neither let their hands drift down. John concentrated on the slow and intimate kiss until it was as if he was melting into David. The merging scared him and he pulled away. “Oh God.” He chuckled breathlessly in an attempt to cover up his true reaction. “You’re gonna make me come just from that kiss.”

  John’s head dropped and rested on David’s shoulder so he could catch his breath and steady his nerves. He could smell the heat rising from David’s skin and couldn’t resist a gentle kiss and nuzzle. Without raising his head, John lifted his hand to caress David’s face until he felt lips and then a tongue on his fingertips.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned and moved up to capture that mouth in another kiss.

  It was only then that John’s hand moved down to David’s cock. As he wrapped his fingers around the silky skin he whispered, “Touch me, Dave. Please.”

  David slipped his hand cautiously between their bodies and followed the rhythm started by John. Both men struggled to keep their movements slow as their bodies strained against each other reaching for impossibly closer contact. It was mere minutes before they were breathing raggedly into each other’s open mouths, desperately trying not to lose the momentum.

  Through the white haze of his approaching orgasm, John realized that David’s raspy breaths contained his name… over and over. It was too much, and John gave a strangled cry before spilling into the other man’s hand.

  When John caught his breath he knew David had come with him.

  With a breathless laugh, John’s head fell back against the pillow. “Fuck, that was just… fuck!”

  David nodded and managed a grinned, “Yeah.”

  John went to wipe his hand across his face until he realized it was sticky with David’s come. He leaned back and pulled several tissues from the box on his nightstand and wiped both himself and David. “It’s about now I wish I hadn’t decided to quit smoking yet again,” he chuckled. “I think caffeine is in order.”

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and ran a hand along his midriff; it was still slightly sticky. John grimaced and said, “I think I need a shower first.”

  David watched John leave the room and rolled over onto his back. He was still not used to being naked other than behind a locked door in a small shower cubicle on the rare occasion he was able to beat the queue before the hot water ran out. It felt good to stretch out on the bed and feel the air cooling his overheated body. He extended his toes to the end of the bed and his arms above his head and inhaled deeply. It had been a long time since he’d felt some control over his own body. He smiled and sat up. Coffee.

  After pulling on his track pants, David padded through to the kitchen; he wanted to have the coffee made ready for John. The coffeemaker was already plugged in and David looked at it for a few minutes to figure out where to put the water. He filled the jug and poured it into the machine, carefully watching the level rise. He smiled and fitted the now empty jug back into place. Coffee. David glanced around the room trying to figure out where John would keep the coffee. It wasn’t on any of the benches. He stood in front of the closed cupboards for a long time, wishing he’d paid more attention.

  When John walked into the kitchen, dressed and toweling his hair, he was met with the sight of David sitting at the table, not willing to meet his eyes. John put the towel over the back of the chair and sat down. “What’s wrong, Dave?”

  “I wanted to make coffee,” David mumbled.

  John couldn’t fathom what the problem was but could see that the water had been put in the machine and nothing else. He smiled and said, “Thanks. Here, I’ll show you where things are.”

  David got up and followed John to the cupboard. “I keep the coffee here. Some people keep it in the fridge, but you don’t have to. The cups are here… sugar here.” The whole time he was talking, John was handing things to David. “You get the machine going and I’ll get some toast on.”

  John sliced the bread and loaded the toaster while keeping an eye on David. It made him smile that David could finally take pleasure from the success of such a simple task.

  WINTER SUN was a glorious thing, John had decided. It was a bright cloudless day where all the colors seemed to be heightened by air that was so cold it took your breath away only to return in puffs of white. It had been an age since John had taken the time off to wander around a Sunday market and he was enjoying himself. He moved from stall to stall, picking up various items, noticing that David didn’t touch anything and made sure to avoid eye contact with stallholders and shoppers alike.

  After a while it became obvious to John that David was cold; his arms were pressed tightly against his body and both hands were jammed into his pockets. He looked tense and chilled. It made John realize that this was the reality of winter for David and others like him: being bitterly cold and not able to do anything about it.

&n
bsp; They walked past a stall with a large assortment of coats and jackets. John stopped and looked through a rack of sheepskin-lined jackets. He held one up in front of David and said, “Here, try this on.”

  David looked at him and shook his head.

  “Come on, Dave. You’re cold and you need a coat.” John knew it was difficult for David to accept “handouts”, but he couldn’t see why he couldn’t buy him a coat.

  “I’m okay,” he replied in a tone that clearly meant don’t push it. John looked at him a little surprised but said, “All right. How about we go and grab a drink in the café to warm us up.”

  The café was full of people chatting excitedly and pulling bargains out of plastic bags, but John managed to find them a small table in a back corner. John sighed to himself. The day seemed to be a whole series of small steps forward followed by missteps and setbacks. He passed David a menu and said quietly, “I just wanted to buy you a coat because you were cold.”

  David stared down at the laminated menu; he wasn’t reading but needed somewhere to look other than at John while he collected his thoughts. Finally he said in a soft but clear voice, “I know, John, and I do appreciate that you want to do these things for me, that you want to take care of me. It’s just….” He broke off and sat quietly for a while. John could see the tension in his clenched jaw and when the waitress came over he smiled and said, “Can you give us a few minutes, please?”

  David waited until she left to continue. “I don’t know how to explain the way I feel. How can someone who is willing to sell himself in a public toilet have trouble accepting a handout?”

  John sat and thought about what David had just said; Jamie had kept trying to tell him that despite his situation David was a proud man. He said he understood but still kept doing these things. Fuck. Jamie was right again.

  John took the menu from David and smiled. “Mind sharing a sandwich?”

  Chapter 12

  THE SMALL plastic button snapped in half as fingers clutched and wrenched the linen shirt. The fabric strained and tore, leaving pale skin to bare the marks of purpled fingerprints. The hands hurt, turning to fists, punching to the point where knuckles bled. They unclenched and pushed, cheek grazed and bleeding against the rough concrete of the rendered wall. But the real pain was lower. This can’t happen…. Please stop.

  John tried to make sense of the small sounds in his head; pained and frightened murmurs. David. The muffled noises of distress continued. John sat up and tried to focus in the gloom of the darkened bedroom. “Dave?” he whispered. No reply. Still asleep, still asleep. He reached out and gently placed his hand on David’s shoulder. “Wake up, Dave. You’re just dreaming.”

  John wasn’t sure whether it was his touch or words that startled David awake but he quickly pulled away from the hand with a strained, “No… please….”

  David’s reaction initially shocked John, but he quickly reasoned it was probably a residual of the dream. He said slowly and quietly, “It’s okay, Dave. You were dreaming, that’s all.” David looked at him but his expression was one of confusion. He glanced around the room as if unsure of his surroundings and carefully edged to the side of the bed until he was able to slide his legs out and sit on the side.

  Sitting up, John looked at David’s hunched form; it was so hard not knowing what to do to help. He leaned over and carefully rubbed his hand over David’s back, but David cringed away from John and quickly stood up to avoid any further touch.

  John reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Squinting a little at the sudden light, he said in a soft but worried voice, “David?”

  After starting to turn toward John, David shook his head and walked out of the bedroom. He stood in the kitchen feeling lost and disconnected from his surroundings. David desperately wanted the comfort John offered, but couldn’t face him. The other touch was still too clear in his mind. Too damaged for John.

  He took a glass from the draining rack and turned on the tap, but the liquid threatened to spill over the rim of the glass with the constant tremors of his hand. The water was tipped back into the sink untouched.

  David stood and watched the water slowly drain through the old and ineffective plumbing until he heard a quiet voice behind him. “Come back to bed, Dave.”

  Not knowing what to say, how to explain, David simply nodded and accepted the gentle hand resting on his arm that guided him back to the bedroom.

  John hadn’t been sure if the touch would be welcome when he saw David silently staring into the sink, but he simply didn’t know what else to do. He purposely kept his touch light, guiding rather than gripping.

  When they reached the bedroom David got into the bed without any further words of encouragement and carefully pulled the covers up, facing away from John. A wave of helplessness swept over John as he looked at David’s back. He crawled into bed as carefully as he could and made sure he was close but not touching. “Try to get some sleep, Dave,” John said in a deceptively calm voice. He was met with silence.

  It hurt that he couldn’t touch him, that he couldn’t hold him. Not for the first time John felt in over his head. He didn’t know how to deal with this. How do I tell him it’s all right when I don’t know what the fuck is wrong?

  JOHN WENT straight into the back room of the store, leaving David to wander up to his chair among the used books. Jamie leaned against the counter and watched the two men. He frowned and walked to the door of the kitchen. “What’s happened, John? What’s up with Dave?”

  John stood at the sink with his back to Jamie and muttered, “Leave it, Jamie. Okay? David had a bad night is all.”

  The tone of John’s voice and the shape of his back convinced Jamie to try elsewhere for answers. He quietly walked to the secondhand book alcove where he knew David was sitting, legs folded beneath him, staring into space. Jamie sat in “his” chair, like he had done so many times before, and waited until David turned to look at him.

  “What happened, Dave?”

  David returned his gaze to the bookshelf and said softly with a shrug of inevitability, “Ghosts.”

  Jamie nodded, even though he had no idea what David meant. David sighed, turned back, and said, “I’m okay, Jamie. Just a dream is all.”

  “Wanna tell me about it?” Jamie asked, but David just shook his head. “You know you can, Dave. Talk to me about stuff, I mean. Man, you know every possible thing there is to know about me.”

  David gave a little smile and said, “Yeah, I think I do.”

  Jamie grinned. “Yeah yeah, I like to talk and you are a great listener.” His smile slipped a little as he added more seriously, “You never judge me, Dave. I’m sure John will listen, too, if you give him a chance.”

  John will listen, but he won’t understand what it was like. David didn’t voice his thoughts.

  Jamie watched David carefully and knew he’d pushed enough for now. He leaned over and gave David a little kiss on the shoulder, knowing it would be barely felt through the fabric of the shirt and said, “Okay, Dave, I’ll give you peace, yeah? We still on for lunch?”

  David smiled and nodded as Jamie got up and left him to settle in the safety of his books.

  WHILE JAMIE sat with David quietly eating their lunch, John took the opportunity to slip out of the store with the excuse of grocery shopping. He needed the air, needed to get away for a few minutes to clear his head. The previous night had scared John more than he cared to admit.

  Trying to decide between the red and green peppers gave John the relief of something mundane to think about. The supermarket was always quieter at this time of day and it gave him a chance to wander through the food aisles and pretend his life was still normal.

  He looked up from the produce when a woman walked past and commented on the ever-escalating prices. They made eye contact briefly and John recognized her from the shelter.

  She smiled at him. “Hello again. Did you find the man with the sketchbook?”

  “David. Yes, I found him, thanks,”
John replied, a little surprised that she remembered.

  “Good. I’m pleased to hear it.” She gave a single nod and turned back to the tutting at the price of the broccoli.

  John hesitated for a second, absently rubbing his thumb over the waxy skin of the pepper in his hand then asked, “Um… would you mind joining me for a coffee? I really would appreciate some advice.”

  The woman gave John a searching look before answering. “Sure. Meet you next door after the checkout.”

  JOHN LOOKED at the plastic-coated red-and-white-check tablecloth while she gave the waitress her order. He ran the edge of his fingernail along the line of the intersections and watched the indentation slowly smooth out again. She noticed how unsure John seemed and said cheerily, “I’m Barbara, and thank you for the invite. It’s not often I get picked up in the market these days.”

  John broke into a relieved smile. “I’m John.”

  “Hello, John. Lovely to meet you,” she replied, giving him the chance to control the conversation.

  His smile dissolved as he said quietly, “I’m not sure how to do this or even what to ask, but I….”

  “Is David doing all right?” Barbara interrupted.

  “If you’d asked me that yesterday I would have said yes, but today… I don’t know.”

  Barbara gave John a long look, trying to fathom how to broach the subject; in the end she decided to opt for blunt honesty. “Tell me one thing, John; what kind of relationship do you want with David?”

  John’s cheeks colored, but he answered. “I want… I want us to be, um… together.”

  “Okay, now I have to ask; do you really know what you are in for here?”