by Drew Hunt
“Wha—”
“Hush.” Paul put a finger over Trevor’s lips. “For a long time now I’ve had feelings for you. At first I didn’t understand what they were. Then when I worked ‘em out I was afraid of them. Though over time I…Well I thought, why fight them?”
“But, you.”
“Uh.” Paul shook his head. “Let me do the talking. All right?” Paul sealed his words with another kiss.
Trevor swallowed a groan. Paul’s stubble, it got things stirring down below.
“Let’s go and sit down. This could take a while.” Paul picked up Trevor’s hand and led him to the living room. Trevor made for his usual armchair but Paul shook his head and guided him to sit next to him on the sofa.
“I plucked up the courage to tell you how I felt a few weeks back, but when I arrived, Gary was here and—”
Trevor opened his mouth to say something but Paul leaned forward and silenced him with another kiss, and that stubble again.
“I felt as though the bottom had dropped out of my world. I’d discovered I was in love with you, had battled my demons about it, then finally decided to tell you, to ask you to…I don’t know,” Paul appeared nervous for the first time since his arrival, “But I was too late. I…well the pain was almost physical, you know?”
“I’m sorry,” Trevor said, not knowing what else to say.
“I went back to mine and basically hid myself away feeling right sorry for myself. But Sandy, who has been a real brick throughout all of this, kicked me in the arse and got me going again. You remember the day you came back from choir practice and I was here, talking to Gary?”
Trevor nodded.
“I’d found out about Lisa. She and Sandy are good friends. I thought Gary was cheating on you and I came over here to rip his head off for lying to you and—”
Trevor giggled, he couldn’t help it. “Two men fighting over me.” Then he remembered how serious the situation was and closed his mouth. “Sorry.”
“But despite everything Gary and I sort of came to an understanding. I’ll never be close friends with the bloke, but anyway. He said how much he loved you but that he couldn’t be with you.”
Trevor was determined not to cry, he’d shed enough tears over that man to last a lifetime.
“I…well.” Was Paul blushing? “I told him how much I had grown to love you and—”
“Really? Oh wow, that’s—”
He was silenced by another kiss. “Am I going to have to gag you?”
“You kinky sod.” Trevor smiled and God help him, but he leaned forward and initiated a kiss for the first time. Jesus, his body zinged with adrenaline. Paul looked momentarily shocked but soon recovered.
“Uh, where was I?” The man was dazed. He, Trevor had done that. He felt so proud. Trevor merely made a zipping gesture across his lips and smiled devilishly.
Paul shook his head, but was smiling. “Oh, yes. Gary said that he couldn’t give you the love you deserved and after questioning me, finding out if my intentions toward you were honourable, he, uh, said he’d help me to, well, uh, woo you.”
Trevor opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He rubbed at his eyes, this time trying to avoid happy tears.
“I knew I couldn’t rush in and announce my love for you the minute Gary left, that wouldn’t have been right. But he and I both knew that you’d be upset at his leaving, so that’s why I’ve been hanging around recently and not letting you wallow.
Trevor felt a wave of…was it love?…pass over him. It scared him and he began to retreat.
“But this morning I woke up and I couldn’t wait any longer. I’m in love with you, Trevor Pierson.”
“No,” was Trevor’s only comment.
Paul’s face fell.
“What you said was…amazing, I’m very flattered, more than you can know. But, I can’t. Love you, I mean.”
Paul seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking. “I know it’ll take time,” he took hold of Trevor’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’ll need time to learn to trust me, to be sure that what I’m saying is genuine.”
“Yes, but,” Trevor marshalled his thoughts, “You say you’re in love with me. I’m sure you believe that, but I know that when the next girl who catches your eye comes along I’ll be—” Trevor didn’t finish.
Paul squeezed his hand again. “No, Trev.”
“You can’t say that. I know because I’ve had…well let’s just say there’s a history of men leaving me. I know you’re sincere, Paul, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but it won’t work between us.”
“How do you know? Why won’t you give it a chance?” Paul looked upset. Trevor hated doing that, but he had to be firm and squelch this now before it got even more out of hand.
“Lots of reasons. The chief one being you’re not gay. Paul, you’re straight, you like women. Vaginas, breasts. You’re not gay.”
“I’m as gay as I need to be,” Paul shot back. “You’re right, I’m not gay in the usual sense. But as Sandy pointed out weeks ago, I’m in love with a person. A person that just happens to be a man. And trust me, I’ve thought about this, and thought and thought. I’d never launch this on you if I wasn’t totally sure.” Paul lifted each of Trevor’s hands and kissed the knuckles. “I know you’ve been hurt in the past and I promise I’ll do my level best never to do that. I’ll protect you from anyone who tries to hurt you.”
Trevor got to his feet. “I’m not some pathetic simpering damsel in distress that needs the protection of a man. I’ve managed perfectly well these past few years without help. I like being alone. It’s healthy. It’s what I need. It’s—”
“It’s safe and it’s lonely,” Paul cut in over Trevor’s objections. “I’m not going to trample over your feelings. I know you’ve done well for yourself alone. I know all that. But I want to make things better.”
Trevor didn’t say anything, but that didn’t seem to deter Paul.
“Gary said it’d take you a while, and that’s fine. I’m gonna be here, showing you every day that I’m genuine and am not gonna bugger off the minute some woman flashes her bits at me.”
Despite himself Trevor couldn’t help bursting out laughing at the mental image of a woman exposing herself to Paul in a desperate effort to woo him. Woo. That was what Paul was doing to him. This big, strong, gorgeous man sitting next to him wanted to woo him. “Oh, fuck.”
* * * *
Paul had been as good as his word. But saying you loved someone, and actually showing it, were two different things. A small part of Trevor hated himself for making Paul prove his claims, but another part told him that he had to be sure. Trevor had asked if they could go out on a date, suggesting somewhere quite far away – he wasn’t cruel enough to demand that Paul walk down the main street of their village holding hands.
Paul had instantly agreed, though grumbled when Trevor said he would pay for his half of whatever they spent. “I’m not a simpering damsel, remember?”
So Trevor found himself all dressed up in his best suit, with Paul similarly attired (the guy looked stunning in a dinner jacket) eating in a pretty fancy restaurant, the waiters speaking in a French accent which Trevor had a sneaking suspicion was put on. He wished he’d remembered more of his schoolboy French so he could test out his theory.
“What you thinking about?” Paul asked from the other side of the candle-lit table. The flickering light enhanced Paul’s features, making him seem even more attractive and wholesome than ever.
“Oh, not much really,” Trevor lied. He didn’t want to admit that Paul’s attempts to convince him of his sincerity were having their desired effect.
“You’re having a good time, though? I know the play wasn’t what we hoped it would be.”
Trevor smiled. He needed to put Paul at ease. “The play was fine. I enjoyed it.”
“What, even when the leading man forgot his lines and the female lead’s wig slipped?”
Chuckling, he said, “I know th
e play was meant to be a comedy, but I think some of the humour was unintentional.
There was a woman moving from table to table selling single red roses. Trevor studiously ignored her. He refused to put Paul to such a test. He needed to be sure that Paul loved him, not to see how gay Paul was in public. Trevor knew there were gay people who were happy in long-term, committed relationships, yet didn’t go around broadcasting their orientation.
“Uh, miss?” Paul’s voice caused Trevor to look up from his tiramisu. Paul was gesturing to the flower seller who had just walked past their table. “I’d like one of those for my partner here if you don’t mind.”
Trevor knew his mouth had fallen open. Despite the promises he’d made to himself, he couldn’t help flushing with pride at Paul’s gesture.
“Certainly. You two make a lovely couple,” the woman said handing Trevor the rose.
He held it, not knowing quite what to do with it.
Paul smiled. “I’m for real, Trev.”
Trevor nodded stupidly.
“Here.” Paul held out his hand and Trevor gave him the flower. After breaking off a portion of the stem he gave it back. “You can wear it as a button hole.”
Trevor smiled, he hadn’t thought of that. “Thank you. It…you didn’t need to.”
Paul took his hand. “But I wanted to.”
* * * *
If Trevor thought Paul would woo him quietly and behind closed doors, he had another think coming. Within a day of the shock announcement, Trevor received a phone call from a female friend in finance.
“Is it true?” Before Trevor could ask what was true, his friend went on, “You and Paul. Are you two really an item?”
Shocked, Trevor asked where she’d heard the news. A complicated explanation of who had told her and where that person had heard it ensued. It turned out that Paul had quietly confided in one of the biggest gossips in the town hall, swearing her to secrecy. Trevor later was able to confirm that it had taken less than an hour for the news to get to him. He had to smile at Paul’s ingenuity, not to mention his determination.
“Yes, Margie. It’s all true.” He hung up before she could ask any more questions.
Trish, his fellow human resources assistant was green with envy when five minutes later her phone buzzed and she was given the news. After she had accepted Trevor’s apology for having to find out second hand, there was no stopping her.
“You dog. I thought he was straight.”
“Me, too,” Trevor admitted.
“But I thought you said you could spot a gay man within—”
“Apparently not.” He wasn’t going to tell her Paul wasn’t gay in the traditional sense. That was private between him and Paul.
“You’re so lucky. Paul’s—” She flopped down in her chair. “He’s so handsome, just like—”
Trevor rolled his eyes. Trish was forever comparing men she’d seen with movie stars both past and present. “But I don’t know if I want a relationship with him.”
“What?” Trish had just opened a pot of low fat yoghurt, her latest get-slim-quick fad. The shock of Trevor’s statement caused her to spill half of the pot’s contents down her blouse. “But he’s…Trevor, you have to.” Trish was now dabbing at the spillage with some paper tissues, succeeding only in spreading it further. “Trust me, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“Might regret it if I do and he leaves me,” Trevor said under his breath, but Trish didn’t hear.
As it was almost lunchtime, Trish went home immediately to change, and Trevor was left holding the fort. He’d just sorted out a dispute between two typists—each claiming the other always received preferential treatment when annual leave was negotiated—when Paul walked into the office and closed the door behind him.
“Busy morning?” Paul asked before laying his hands on Trevor’s shoulders, massaging them.
“Uh huh.”
“Where’s Trish?”
“She’s, uh, gone home because…Ooh yeah, just there.”
Paul chuckled before bending down and licking Trevor’s ear. So we’ve got the office to ourselves, then?”
“What? You can’t. I mean we can’t. Anyone could just walk in and…Oh God.” Paul had just found a tense muscle that had been bothering him all morning.
Kissing the top of Trevor’s head, Paul said, “I know we can’t, but it’d be fun if we could.” Moving to lick Trevor’s other ear, Paul added, “As I can’t tempt you into a quickie, how’s about we go out for lunch somewhere? I know this little out of the way pub that does a great steak sandwich.”
Trevor groaned, though if it was because of the thought of the pub, the meal or Paul’s massage he didn’t know, or care.
“We’ll have to wait for Trish to come back, but she shouldn’t be—”
“Sorry it took me so long, but—”
“Oh my God.”
Both of them turned to face Trish. Trevor expected Paul to pull away, deny everything or claim This isn’t what it looks like. But that wasn’t what happened.
“Trish, I’m sorry for getting carried away,” Paul said. “I just couldn’t keep my hands off him.” Then Paul kissed a stunned Trevor on the lips before sauntering past an equally stunned Trish. Stopping in the doorway, Paul said, “Be back in five minutes, okay?”
Trevor nodded, and Paul departed.
“Oh my God,” Trish repeated. “I know you said that Paul was, but he really is…Oh my God.”
“Yeah, he is.” Trevor grinned stupidly; his lips still tingling from Paul’s kiss.
* * * *
Friday night, and Trevor had suggested a visit to the pictures to celebrate their first month together.
“This film you want to see, it’s not something, uh, all slushy, is it?” Paul asked, looking as though he might object.
Trevor smiled to himself. “Yes, the latest Barbara Cartland inspired romance. White Lace and Taffeta I think it’s called.”
“Oh, God,” Paul groaned.
Trevor couldn’t hold in his mirth any longer. “You should see your face. I was just pulling your leg, reminding you of when you took Geraldine to the pictures.”
“Don’t remind me,” Paul groaned.
Trevor giggled. “I’d never do that to you. Honestly, I don’t mind what we see, so long as it’s not one of those high budget action things that’s heavy on explosions and light on plot.”
A look of relief passed over Paul’s face. “It’s a date then.”
They chose a comedy. Or rather Paul let him choose the comedy. Trevor had told Paul he could choose, but Paul was determined to let Trevor pick.
The film was all right, nothing outstanding, but it held Trevor’s interest—although Paul’s wandering hand as it kept missing the bucket of popcorn, probably held more of Trevor’s attention.
“Give up, you’ll leave a stain,” Trevor hissed.
“On the inside or the outside?” Paul leaned in to his ear and whispered. Before withdrawing he licked Trevor’s ear, causing him to shudder.
“Bloody poofs,” a loud male voice called out behind them.
Trevor took no notice, but Paul immediately swung round in his seat.
“Who said that?”
“No, Paul, let it go. It’s not important,” Trevor urged. He could see they were drawing attention to themselves. “Please.”
Paul turned back to the front, but remained tense.
Trevor was miserable through the rest of the film. Although he’d faced homophobia many times, Paul obviously hadn’t. Was this the ultimate test? Would Paul decide loving him wasn’t worth all the aggravation that would go with it? Trevor had fallen absolutely and completely for Paul. He had tried his hardest not to let it show, just in case Paul changed his mind and left him high and dry. Was this to be their last date? What could Trevor say to keep him? Was there anything he could say?
The film finally ended and the house lights came up. Paul didn’t say anything as he filed out of the cinema, Trevor following him, beco
ming increasingly worried.
They emerged into a warm and humid evening. The sky was dark, though there was ample light from street lamps and shop windows. Trevor wanted to touch Paul, ask him if they were still all right, if there still was a they.
“Bloody queers! Fucking makes me puke,” someone muttered behind them. As far as Trevor could tell it was the same voice which had taunted them in the cinema.
Paul sprang into action. Before Trevor could stop him, he had turned around and got one of the three men by the throat and backed up against the wall. A woman nearby screamed.
“What did you say, dick-head?” Paul said in a low voice through clenched teeth.
The other two men who were with the third moved in. “Hey!”
“Stay out of this, unless you want some, too,” Paul addressed the other two, who seemed to be in their early twenties. The person who Paul had hold of looked to Trevor to be a few years younger.
“I’m talking to you, scum breath.” Paul focussed his attention back on the man he had apprehended. “Did you say something to me and my boyfriend?”
The guy shook his head the best he could. He looked terrified.
“Paul, don’t,” Trevor said quietly. They were attracting a crowd. All Trevor wanted to do was go home.
“You upset Trevor here, and that upset me. So apologise, now! Otherwise I’ll break your worthless neck.” Paul shook the bloke just to emphasise his point.
“What’s goin’ on here?” an older male voice announced.
Trevor turned to see a security guard approaching. “Oh, shit,” he groaned before closing his eyes. This wasn’t happening.
“I saw everything, officer,” an older man piped up. “This one,” he pointed his walking stick at the guy Paul still had hold of, “said something to these two,” he pointed at Paul and Trevor, “and then he grabbed hold of him as you can see.”
“Yes, I think you should let go of him now, sir.”
Paul did so, but kept a wary eye on the man.
“Now, what did you say that caused this man to attack you?”
The guy coughed a few times then said, “Nothing, I didn’t say nothing.”
“That’s a fucking lie,” Paul growled.