Oskar Blows a Gasket

by Claire Davis

  “That’s because I’m the same person,” Gareth pointed out. “Knowing who my dad is doesn’t change that. It’s just me.”

  “It shouldn’t do, no,” Oskar said. “But…I thought it might. Now I see you—underneath me—I realise my concerns were merely me being trapped by the superficiality of fame.” He peeled off Gareth’s top.

  “OK,” Gareth gasped. “Shall we get naked?”

  “Yeah.”

  The heartache and angst of the last few days held tightly to Gareth’s body. He realised he was wound up and tense but this appeared to do nothing to suppress his arousal. He flung off his clothes quickly, not able to look away.

  “God, the way you look at me!” Oskar sat kneeling, dick jutting upwards. “It’s your fault I’ve got no pride.” He opened his legs and leaned back on his hands. Hair was strewn around his shoulders and down his chest, like an invitation for Gareth to move it away. He sat closer and gently ran hands up Oskar’s legs and over his hips; heart beating crazily in response to the way Oskar rocked forward. “Go on,” he whispered, eyes closing as Gareth stroked underneath his balls where the skin was soft.

  “Go on, what?” Gareth grinned, knowing Oskar liked him to tease the words out. “What do you want?” He pushed Oskar down onto the bed and brushed his balls lightly. As an answer, Oskar drew his legs up and held them back by the knees.

  “I want you to…you know…” Oskar said tightly.

  “What?” Sometimes it was as if Gareth could actually see the control slipping out of Oskar’s hands and into his own. The letting it go made Oskar eventually relax. Gareth looked down at Oskar’s body intently, as if he was everything.

  “Touch me,” Oskar said quietly. “Please?”

  “Where?” Gareth’s hands easily covered the tight buttocks which he began kneading gently. “Here?” One finger trailed up and down. “You have to tell me.”

  “Push it in,” Oskar breathed. “Right in. Lube under the bed.” He began panting, which Gareth now recognised as the last of his resistance.

  “Please! Don’t stop—ah.” His face contorted with pleasure and craving, and Gareth almost lost it himself, but he carried on a few more minutes until Oskar screamed and began coming. “Do it!” he gasped. Gareth shifted, took his own rock-hard dick, jerked it a few times and then came in juddering bursts of almost-sobbing. Finally, he collapsed onto Oskar, an emotional mess.

  “Oh my god.”

  “Yeah.” Oskar stroked Gareth’s hair; soft for a while now the sex was over. “You OK?”

  “Yeah.” Gareth made his way up Oskar’s body with wipes. “Beautiful, so beautiful.” He wanted to say more but sensed by the way he was starting to fidget that Oskar wasn’t ready for more talking.

  “So, urgh,” Oskar said casually, kissing Gareth’s nose, “do you think it’s time to—you know?”

  “What?” Gareth asked innocently, though of course he knew what was coming. “Get dressed?”

  “No! Lollipop! Sometimes you can be extremely hasty. No, I meant…” Oskar did a poor finger impression of fucking, one finger going into his fist. Gareth watched.

  “Swimming? Aw!” He laughed as Oskar bashed him with a pillow. “OK, OK. You mean making love, don’t you?” The L-word lingered.

  “Mm.” Oskar moved an arm, leg and snuggled into Gareth’s arms. “Time to get properly into the groove.”

  Chapter 20: Preach That Saxophone

  Oskar

  Dear Mother,

  Not much has happened. Same old café. Flat is OK. I am keeping things together.

  Mum, I have a—I am dating, kind of. The person is quite nice. Shy, yet sexy. Very nice. Though, of course, I shagged around a lot first, like you always told me to. Relationships are very yesterday, but it is good to have someone.

  I have moved on from 80s popular music to opera and ballet music.

  I am feeling very clear-headed now, just like you said I would. I no longer get sleepless nights. Everything is absolutely brilliant and there is nothing to worry about.

  Oskar.

  P.S. Why are you and Aunty Kathy still not speaking? Call her. She is your sister.

  P.P.S. I know it must seem lame that I didn’t write all term and now I’ve done it twice in a week. The post is dodgy.

  ****

  Gareth

  “But what’s it like?” Oskar asked for the twentieth time. “Who did you see? Did you meet Madonna? Whitney? And don’t give me that shit about not being able to tell me ’cause we just came at the same time and you said my name, fuck sake. Oh, Oskar, you moaned. With your face all straining. So you have to tell me otherwise it’s very rude.” He gripped Gareth’s hand as they dawdled towards Dad’s house. “Are you sure I don’t look too ordinary for luncheon with your dad?” His hair was carefully arranged into a spiked halo with painted stars on one cheek. “Stop looking at me!”

  “I don’t know what it was like. Mostly shit. None of them had time for me.” He remembered the parties—loud and lasting several days. Sometimes he’d barricaded into his bedroom and shaken with fear. “He had a lot of girlfriends.”

  “Any blokes?”

  Gareth considered. “Yeah, there might have been a few. I’m pretty sure he had a boyfriend once.” Oskar stopped mid-step and went into his mock-horror mode. Gareth watched with amusement.

  “No way! Gareth! You are the luckiest person on Planet Earth and quite possibly in the universe! You and me were definitely switched at birth.” Oskar sighed deeply and commenced walking. “All that excitement and you didn’t even want it. Tragic.” He took Gareth’s hand again. “And we’re not dating. I’m holding your hand to show solidarity and friendship.” He looked sideways. “And lust. I admit to lust.”

  “I don’t know if I should be pleased or sad. Don’t you like me?” Gareth had always known one day Oskar would get bored of his no-personality. “Is it just about lust?”

  “Stop it with the puppy eyes! Of course I like you.” Oskar pushed him hard against a bus stop and leaned in so close Gareth could see the eyeliner. “I like you a lot, actually. More than anyone in the universe,” he whispered directly into Gareth’s ear. “And it’s not easy for me to accept. I am a hard bastard with no feelings or emotional ties, and here I am rolling naked and waking up hugging my pillow. Fuck sake! I’m the personification of a wet dream—not the stuff of boyfriends. How am I to process such a transformation?”

  Often, Gareth had very little idea what Oskar was talking about, or if it mattered.

  “The world could be blowing itself up and all I think about is you.” He butchered Gareth’s lips, making growling sounds. “I am not equipped to deal with it, Lollipop. And now you’ve ruined my lipstick effect.” He smacked his lips. “You are extremely irresponsible.”

  “You look great. Come on.”

  Outside the bus stop, a group of kids were staring. “I’ve seen you on TV,” one of them said, pointing at Oskar. “On The X Factor.” Gareth pulled him away before he could do anything other than bristle.

  “And don’t worry, Dad is nice. He’s not shy like me. It won’t be awkward or anything.”

  “Who’s worried? Do I look worried?” Oskar demanded. “I never look worried or stressed because I’m not. I am a cool operator and someone who copes with—” He stopped. “I’ve never been to a family lunch before. Not if you don’t count fish and chips and a bust-up. What do I have to do?” He stopped walking just before the drive and pulled Gareth back into the tall trees. “I don’t know about the rules and rituals of knives and forks! What if I get it wrong?”

  Gareth tried to think. “Knives and forks?”

  “Yes! Which ones do I use?”

  “The silver ones?” Gareth said helplessly. “Same as we use at the hostel.” He didn’t care about cutlery or if they used their hands. He didn’t even care if they ate cat food as long as Dad and Oskar were in the same room, making his two worlds come together. “You just use them to cut up food, or put pieces in your mouth.” He mimed eating. �
�You know?” Oskar’s face dissolved into horror.

  “Gareth! I don’t want to look like a total dickhead.” He began breathing in and out deeply. “Help me out here?” The spikes on his hair moved in the wind like dark ice peaks. “Stop looking at me. And stop laughing at everything I say. And will you please stop looking so hot! It’s not conducive.”

  “It’ll all be fine—come on. You don’t have to be nervous.”

  “Of course it will! Who said I’m nervous? I just don’t want to show you up, that’s all!” He slipped his arm through Gareth’s and left it there. “Are you nervous?” His eyes widened, making Gareth’s heart flip. “Staring again.”

  “No. Maybe? I don’t know. I’m starving. Who wouldn’t stare at you? You’re the hottest boy in the world. Every time you look my way, I wanna take my clothes off. Again.”

  “God, you’re so uncomplicated. I envy you that, Bear. Here I am tearing my soul out, wondering how to impress your father, and you’re thinking about your baser physical self!”

  “You don’t believe in souls. You said physicists only believe in facts.” They stopped together in front of the house. “Maybe I am nervous?” He considered. “I want everyone to like each other. Is that nervous? Maybe it’s just hunger?”

  “Do you have unpleasantness of the stomach and throat?” Oskar gripped Gareth’s arm hard enough to bruise. “I have to give you some work on emotional intelligence and articulation, Lollipop. I simply cannot have a boyfriend who doesn’t know the difference between sexual arousal and terror. Imagine the complications?” He giggled. “And stop talking about sex, will you? I can’t meet Michael Fraser with a hard-on. Oh, good afternoon Mr. Fraser, please ignore my ten-inch totem pole.”

  The door opened as Gareth bent over double from laughing. Jim beckoned them inside grandly. “Good afternoon, boys. Do come inside, now, before it rains. No need to be necking out here.” He eyed up Oskar warily. “Got something stuck on your face, have you?” Gareth hurried Oskar in before he could answer, though he still succeeded in mouthing OMG behind Jim’s back.

  “Hi, Jim. Do you want any help with the food or anything? I always used to help Dad with cooking.” When he’d been allowed. “It smells good.” He instinctively moved nearer Oskar, feeling like an intruder. “Should we take our shoes off?” He ignored Oskar’s pinch.

  “No, don’t bother. Your dad’s in the conservatory, waiting. Food be half an hour, I should think, lads. I’m a shit cook, though. I hope you won’t mind.”

  Oskar waited until Jim disappeared into the kitchen. “I can’t do it! I’m not meant for all this stress. Did you see the way he looked at me? I don’t trust him.”

  Gareth wrapped his arms around the body pressing his, and squeezed. “So you are nervous?”

  Oskar shook his head vigorously. “No.”

  “Yes you are. I’ve never seen you like this before—not since we met in the bathroom of the train station.”

  “I wasn’t nervous then either.”

  “Were. You were about to cry. You talked to the mirror about being blue.”

  “I was not! Don’t leave me alone with him, for god’s sake. If you do, I’ll stab you.”

  “But what if I need to pee?”

  “Just piss yourself,” Oskar said loudly as Dad appeared, leaning heavily on a stick.

  “I thought I heard voices! Come inside. I’m extremely pleased to meet you.” He held a hand out. “I’m Mike. You look amazing.” There were a few agonising seconds where it seemed Oskar wasn’t going to take the hand, but eventually he did. “Hey!” Dad clutched the hand and bounced it up and down energetically. Gareth held his body perfectly still, waiting for Oskar to complain, or shout, or kick. But he just kept on staring at Dad with wide eyes.

  “Hi. Oskar.”

  “Go inside, please. You’ll have to excuse me. I’m still pretty slow on my feet.” He winked at Gareth as they awkwardly walked into the lounge and sat down. “You’re into theatrical make-up, huh?” Oskar moved closer to Gareth on the sofa, until they were practically on top of each other. Dad raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

  “Yes,” Oskar said quietly. Gareth nudged him.

  “You can tell Dad all about it. He has to wear make-up all the time.” Dad smiled and nodded, but Oskar only pushed further against Gareth’s side and remained silent.

  “Yeah! But I think yours is to be seen—am I right? Mine is normally to enhance features, but not to be really noticed.” Dad put his head on one side and studied Oskar. “The make-up artists would have a field day with you! Not so much me, these days.”

  “What’s happened to your legs?” Oskar finally squeaked in a voice that didn’t seem to belong.

  Dad grimaced. “Some of my bones got so smashed up they had to be knitted together with metal and god knows what. I almost lost both, apparently. They tell me I’m lucky. Teach me to go racing silly cars.”

  “You’re…you’re famous for doing all your own stunts.”

  “I was, yeah. But between you and me, I think that time’s over.” Dad glanced at Gareth. “I have better things to do now.”

  “You’re giving up the films?” Oskar finally moved slightly and began sounding more normal. “For real?” His hand slid over Gareth’s and stayed there. “’Cause you cannot be leading Gareth up the garden path anymore.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s something Gareth and I have to work out. I guess he’s told you I was not the best dad. So…you’re a scientist?” He laughed. “You don’t look like how I imagine scientists look. And you love the 80s, right? I know a few folks from back then. Who do you like? Maybe I can invite them here for you to meet. Do you like Duran Duran?”

  Oskar sat bolt upright. “It was lovely to meet you, even though you’re a wanker. I’m terribly sorry, but I just remembered there’s something urgent I should be doing.” He stood up abruptly and fled the room. The front door banged.

  “What? What did I do?” Dad said, stricken. “Go after him!”

  By the time Gareth got to the end of the drive, Oskar was running far ahead, hair flying about like a cloak. He didn’t look back. Gareth set off down the road, but then turned back to the house. Eventually, after much worrying and indecision, he sat on the wall miserably until the door opened and Jim peered out.

  “Trouble?” Jim sat next to him.

  “I don’t know. I’m bad at all this. At most things really,” Gareth said sadly. “I think I’m dumped.” Saying the words was glass against his tongue. To stop Jim from looking at his face, he looked the other way.

  “Oh, now. I don’t think you’re dumped, son. Oskar is…complicated. And you know, meeting your boyfriend’s superstar dad isn’t a thing every boy could deal with. I remember the day I met my wife’s parents! I was shitting myself. I sat there over the Sunday roast knowing I was redder than a beetroot. Bloody awful. Come back inside now, your dad will be worrying. A right stress freak, isn’t he?”

  “Is he?”

  “He is where you’re concerned. I shouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t called the police.”

  Gareth trailed back inside after Jim, thinking he didn’t know Oskar or Dad very well. He sat in the kitchen and stroked Bubble disconsolately.

  “Was it me?” Dad asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s funny around people. Maybe it was me?” Gareth thought back. “He says we’re not dating and I’m on trial.”

  “I’m so sorry if it was me, honey. Shall I call him for you?”

  Jim served plates of food, laughing. “You two are funny. Don’t call him or do anything. You have to treat him like an exotic wild animal, see. I had a dog once was just the same way. Just be yourselves and he’ll come running. I expect he had a fit of shyness or something like. Poor lad’s probably in shock.”

  Gareth ate without looking up because he wasn’t sure of his mental state. It could have been resentment or disappointment, but either way, if Dad hadn’t shown up, he might still be dating Oskar. He s
tabbed a potato viciously. It was almost raw and skittered off across the table.

  “You’re on trial? What does that mean?” Dad asked.

  “He said I have to prove myself, because I didn’t tell him about you. Prove I’m a suitable boyfriend.” Oskar would be back at the hostel by now, playing the special songs.

  “By doing what? You don’t have to prove anything.” Dad suddenly laughed. “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 21: Respect the Vinyl

  Oskar

  Dear Aunty Kath,

  Mum will never make the first move and neither will you, so I’m doing it for you both before I go to visit her, otherwise she will rant. Here are the facts:

  You and Mum got me taking drugs round houses in the hair trolley. You didn’t force me, but you were the adults and I was fifteen.

  You both knew I started using drugs. Don’t deny it.

  Drugs are bad.

  Morris made that phone call to the police from hospital. Not Mum or me. We didn’t know he did it until the cops came round.

  You and Mum were best friends and sisters all your lives up to then.

  You were a great aunty.

  I love you both.

  No-one wins from you being enemies.

  I hope you will think about this because you will need each other when you get out. It’s selfish of you both to deny me family piss-ups and karaoke.

  Oskar

  P.S. I still want you to explain hair extensions again.

  ****

  Gareth

  “What? Stella’s gone?” He sat heavily next to Paula, momentarily forgetting about Dad, Oskar and all the other problems clogging up his brain. Since Friday, his emotions went from sky-high happy to sobbing trauma. Walking back to the hostel had helped clear his mind, but he was still teetering on the edge with tears always waiting to fall. “Explain it again. A frying pan?” He tried hard not to stare at her hair, which was lime green. “You…you’re green?”