by Lee Quail
Dirk grabbed his wrist as he zipped the case. “The soul of my family is already broken. The time has come for me to make a choice…”
Gregory pulled his hand away and stepped back. “Don’t even consider choices. You don’t love me, Dirk. You never have. You love the idea of me. I loved the idea of you. I craved you and you craved me. But now it’s over. I found my shoreline. I’m not cold anymore. I’ve warmed up to the realization that there are many guys out there whom I can love without a guilty conscience…you’re still walking on shells.”
“I’m divorcing Carol.”
Gregory stopped breathing for a moment. Another surprise that he hadn’t seen coming. Hearing that word brought on an attack of anxiety that made him feel sick to the core. Exasperated. Like a total numbing of his senses. He shook his head and looked away. “Why?”
“Because when I see you my body does things to me she can’t do or understand.”
The anger rose from Gregory’s soul and he clenched his fists. “Your family should be the only thing that matters in your life. The only thing! I can’t be the one to break that. Once that’s broken you can never put it back together.”
Dirk’s face showed little remorse. He bit his lower lip and instead of reacting to Gregory’s words, he walked over to the steel cabinet and reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels.
“You’ve been partying on your own I see.”
Gregory took the bottle from his hand and put it back onto the cabinet. “Have you even been listening to me?”
“This is our last night, alone. I think we deserve a drink together,” Dirk said, taking the bottle again.
“I don’t feel like a whiskey right now, Dirk.”
Dirk waved the bottle as if it were a carrot with some hidden reward. “Just one tot. Come on, man.”
Gregory grabbed the bottle out of Dirk’s hand and put it inside the cabinet.
“Four months ago you told me to fuck off. You have no idea how that tore me apart. You can’t go around…”
“Correction! Four months ago I said I needed time to consider my commitments if I remember correctly. I didn’t tell you to fuck off.”
“It seemed like you did at the time. You played me because you thought, and still think that you turn me on because you’re married. Stay married, Dirk. You have a wife and child who deserve your love. Go give it to them and let this all fade away quietly.”
“Now you’re telling me to fuck off.”
“Yes. I’m telling you to fuck off. Go find some other guy to fuck with.”
Dirk stepped forward quickly and tried to kiss Gregory again. “You like this, Gregory. You like this. Come on, give it to me. Give it to me!”
Gregory pushed him away with a look of disgust. Dirk scrambled to the floor. “I don’t want to fight you, Dirk. But if I have to kick your ass out of here, I will. Now go.” Gregory pointed to the door. “I’m not interested in what you want. I’m interested in saving myself from you. Divorce Carol if you have to, but you and I are finished.”
Dirk got onto his feet and dusted himself off. “You’ll regret this, Gregory Basye Sander,” he said, heading for the entrance. “You’ll regret ever having met me. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re a queer. Watch me. Watch me.”
Gregory pushed him out the entrance.
“Fuck off, Dirk. Go sleep. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
2
Thursday
Detective Shane Devin checked the time the moment he arrived home. A habit he’d developed over the last few years as an investigating police officer. He placed his briefcase and keys on the hallway table, removed his brown leather jacket, and hung it on the curved coat stand. Today had been one of those lunchless-busy-days. His tummy grumbled as he caught the whiff of meat on the braai* coming off the pool deck.
“Look who’s home,” Beryl, Shane’s sister, sang out loud. She stood behind the braai, sparkling glass of red wine close to her mouth, wearing a green filigree blouse and blue jeans. Her windswept hair hung in strands down her face, radiating a warm glow in the firelight as she turned the meat.
Joseph lay on a deck chair watching the stars blink in the sky. He turned to face the double glass doors and his eyes lit up like the northern lights when he saw Shane.
“You’d best remove the holster,” Beryl said as Shane approached her. “You know how he dislikes all weapons.”
“And a warm hello to you, too. Did he take his tablets?” Shane said, pecking her lightly on the cheek. He removed his holster belt and placed it on the round garden table.
“He doesn’t want tablets,” she said.
“He can’t live without them.”
She nudged her head in Joseph’s direction. “He’s been asking for you since two this afternoon. We were hoping you’d come home early seeing you’re on leave from tomorrow.”
“You know how it is. Lots of stuff to wrap up. But it’s all done and I am soooo hungry,” Shane said, approaching Joseph lying on a reclining deck chair beside the pool.
In Shane’s mind, Joseph would always be the one muscular stud hanging on a bar counter patiently waiting to be served. You know, that guy with the tanned torso and tight abs and tattooed biceps. There’s one of them in every gay bar. The guy with a full face, puffy lips, arched, thick eyebrows and five-day shadow. Too sexy to ignore, too masculine to approach. Shane noticed how the guys stared but hesitated to approach. Shane always honed in on the single, lonely guy, and Joe was no exception. Shane didn’t mince his words. “Hey. You alone?”
Two years flew by.
Shane went onto his knees and kissed him on the forehead. “Hey there, sexy man. You’re looking stunning.”
Joseph grunted. He wasn’t amused. “Liar. Being your last day at work they should at least have allowed you to leave early.” His voice packed a huskiness only a real man possessed.
“It doesn’t work like that, Joe. Have you been for a swim?”
“She said I should wait for you.” He pointed a wavy finger at Beryl.
“It’s only polite,” she said. Joe pulled a tongue at her.
“How about we both take a dip right now,” Shane suggested. “It’s a beautiful evening. I’m sure the water’s just right.”
“Where have you been?”
“I told you, I had to finish a few things at work.”
“You can fool some of the people some of the time, Shane, but not me.”
“It’s the truth. A ton of paperwork. Come on, sexy man. Let’s eat.”
I just want to eat and go to bed. I’m tired,” Joe said, irritation skimming his voice.
“You don’t want to celebrate the start of my leave?”
“I’ll just be a party pooper.”
“Shift up. Let me lie next to you.”
Joseph moaned as he shifted to one side of the deck chair. Shane lay beside him and Joseph rested his head on Shane’s chest.
“Where’s Beetlejuice?” Shane asked, referring to the star Betelgeuse.
Joseph shrugged. “How the hell should I know, I’m no astronomer. I run several businesses far removed from the heavens.”
“There she is,” Shane whispered. “In the constellation Orion. Blinking away. And look, there’s Joseph’s star. Twinkling right next to it.”
“There’s no such star,” Joseph said, grinning.
“But there is. Look. Before it disappears.”
Joseph turned his head in the direction of Betelgeuse and caught his breathe. As sure as heaven existed, a small blue star blinked right beside the red hue of Betelgeuse.
“That shouldn’t be there,” he said, frowning.
“It’s Joseph’s Star.”
“You’re so sweet,” Joseph said, placing a wiry finger on Shane’s warm, thick lips. “Still, it doesn’t make up for being late. You know how I feel about punctuality. On time, or no time.”
Beryl sauntered over with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and handed it to Shane. “You must be quite relieved you don’
t have to wake up early tomorrow morning.”
“I’m exhausted. Need the break,” Shane turned to Joseph and said, “Have you decided about coming with me to Raw and Edward’s first wedding anniversary?”
“I won’t be going,” Joseph mumbled.
“They’re expecting us.” Shane reminded him.
“It’ll do you the world of good, Joe,” Beryl said, taking his hand in hers.
“What, and leave my businesses in the hands of fools who can’t even run a brothel let alone my accounting firm. Not going to happen.” He insisted.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Shane said. “Right now I’m hungry .”
“I want meat,” Joseph said. It was not a request, it was a determined statement.
“No, Joe. You’ll break your diet. The doctors put you on a diet for a reason,” Shane said with an air of authority.
Beryl patted Shane on the shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Just because some doctor says so, doesn’t mean it should be.”
Shane glanced up at Beryl and frowned. “Meat’s just going to spoil his progress.”
“I’m so fucking sick of vegetables and white meat and salad and fruit. All the fucking same just disguised in various ways.”
Beryl lifted Shane from the recliner. “Help me to serve, will you?”
In the kitchen, Shane sorted the cutlery and the plates while Beryl began dishing up the food.
“I know it’s hard to hear and I don’t want to upset you, but it’s the second time he’s treated you as if you’re an idiot this week.”
“If he wants to eat meat, let him. Don’t fight him, it’s his illness, not yours. That’s the Jow we know. He’s just being his usual self.”
“I think you’re making a huge mistake, little brother.”
“Joe is a force of nature. He speaks his mind and doesn’t hold back and he always gets what he wants.”
“Speaking your mind is one thing, Shane. Being rude is something completely different. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I should cancel with Raw and Edward.”
”Don’t do that, Shane. Go. He does it all the time, just ups, goes, and calls you from wherever he is. It’s as if you’re an imposition in his life. You need this short break. You’re the one who must live with him forever, but, in my opinion, I think he’s the wrong man for you”
“Why do you say that?”
“To save you from hell, Shane. I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks this way.”
“You’re not marrying him, Beryl. I am. So climb off your pedestal and give me a break?”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
After supper, Beryl retired for the night to her cottage off the poolside. Joe wrapped an arm around Shane’s shoulders and held him close.
“I have to leave for a week on some business in Bloemfontein. So you should totally go to the mountains. Forget about life for a while. It’s your leave after all,” Joe said.
“I’m not going without you, and that’s final.”
“You should totally go. I can’t have you phoning me every five minutes when I’m in meetings. These people are big. I can’t fuck up.”
*braai = Afrikaans meaning barbecue
3
Thursday
Edward Canton-Curisco woke up the moment Raw screamed. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you had a bad dream that’s all. Just a bad dream,” Edward whispered, caressing Raw’s face. “I’m here. It’s all over. It’s okay.”
Raw’s voice caught in his throat as if he’d swallowed barbed wire. “It won’t stop, Ed. The dreams won’t stop.”
Shane tried to get up from the bed but Raw held him. “Please, just hold me.”
“I’m going to get a towel to wipe your body. You’re wet. I’ll put on the light.”
“Fuck! I feel so helpless. Thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a second,” Edward said, turning the light on and climbing out of bed.
“What’s the time?”
Edward pushed a button on his cell phone. “Two thirty.” The moment his cell phone went live, it chimed as two messages appeared.
“Hello. What’s this?” Edward frowned.
“What’s what?” Raw asked curiously.
“A message from Shane Devin. It came through just before midnight.”
“Let me remind you we’re married, mister.”
Edward smiled. “Shane is fucking good looking, but I have the ultimate best.”
Raw lifted his head off the pillow and exclaimed, “I’ve seen how he looks at you. That wanton, come-to-bed look in his eyes.”
“You’re taking far too many tablets, honey. Give me a minute. Let me read this:
Hey guys. On leave at last! Looking forward to seeing you both this Friday for your First Anniversary. How is Raw? Hope he’s doing okay. Worry about him lots. Would you mind if I arrived a day earlier? I like to acclimatize.
“I’ll answer the text in the morning,” Shane said.
“Of-course he’s welcome any time,” Raw said. “A day earlier won’t be a problem. He’ll be staying for a week anyway.”
“I was thinking the same,” Edward said. He left the room and returned a few moments later with a wet, warm facecloth.
“How many people did we invite eventually?” Raw asked, obviously having forgotten. They’d sent out the invites three months ago.
“Shane, Angie and Uncle Stephen.” Edward gently wiped Raw’s face and neck and brushed his abs, still heavy and looking like a thousand hills.
“That’s three.”
“Curisco and your mom are out of the country so they won’t be here,” Shane said.
“It’s going to be a great get together,” Raw said as Shane wiped his genitals.
“You won’t have to do this for long,” Raw said, his voice soft and tempting.
Edward looked up at him and smiled, “But I want to,” he said, playfully, leaning into Raw’s groin and kissing the shaft of his cock. He slowly climbed onto Raw and, instead of resting on his elbows, his arms cupped Raw’s shoulders so his body lay flat against his with the base of his penis rubbing against Raw’s hard on.
“Do you want?”
“I’m yours. Will always be. I want you so bad.”
Raw pushed his pelvis upward while Edward pushed down gently to give a little resistance in an up-and-down rocking motion. Raw spread his inner thighs even wider and wrapped his ankles gently around Edward’s calves.
“I dream of you sometimes,” Edward whispered in Raw’s ear. “You’re standing naked in the ring and so am I. No one else is there. Just us. The only items we’re wearing are our red gloves. We both have raging hard-ons. Like now, and we approach each other. Neither of us takes our eyes off our hard-ons…”
Slowly Edward made his way down Raw’s tight body, sliding down as easily as a snake on smooth ground, lifted Raw’s legs and placed his tongue underneath Raw’s scrotum. He kissed and licked his skin from the base of Raw’s cock to his pleasure hole.
“And while we’re staring at each other’s hard-ons, you slowly remove one glove, as do I, and we step towards each other, our free hands reaching out and taking our already wet cocks in hand. Our gloved hands wrap each other in a tight embrace and we push against each other, your cock between my oiled up legs, my cock between your oiled up legs. There’s no need for penetration…”
Taking a pause, Edward gripped Raw’s cock and held it tight, pushing the foreskin down, holding it tighter, watching Raw’s blood thump through his veins. He quickly flicked his tongue along the tip of Raw’s cock, and flicked again, collecting his precum in a long residual, silk like thread.
“There’s no need for penetration,” Edward stood and opened the bedside drawer. He took out a tube of KY and spread it between Raw’s legs. Giving Raw the tube, Raw did the same between Edward’s legs.
“Feels so good,” Edward remarked.
“We’re standing there, our cocks between
each other’s legs, like this.” Edward climbed onto Raw’s stretched out body again and positioned both cocks between their legs. “And then we rock. Both thrusting forward. Thrusting, just under each other’s balls, thrusting, feeling the slippery wet lube and precum mixing together…”
“Fuck, this is amazing. It feels like heaven.” Raw said, kissing Edward’s neck.
“You squeeze my cock so hard and it’s like you’ll never let go,” Edward said, tightening his thigh muscles.
Raw tightened his thigh muscles too and they thrust harder, and harder and faster, slapping against each other until Edward seemed to be flying off Raw and coming back down, slamming his cock between his legs.
“Fuck! I’m going to cum,” Raw groaned.
“Yes, cum for me, Boxer. Push my butt with that gloved hand. Push me into your thighs. Like this. Cum my babe. I’m cumming too. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck!”
Their love juice spilled between their legs and balls and trickled down onto the bed.
“You never told me the end of your dream,” Raw said in the afterglow.
“It ends in fisting each other with our boxing gloves.”
“You’re joking.”
“Funny thing though, in the dream I don’t feel pain. Nothing at all.”
Raw leaned with his elbow on the bed. “Edward Canton-Curisco, there is no way I will ever fist you.”
Edward pulled an upset baby-face. “Aww, come on. You know it will be fantastic.”
“The only fist you’re going to get is a thump on the nose. No fucking way.”
“That’s okay if you don’t want to fist me. I’ll fist you.”
“What?” Raw grabbed a pillow and slapped it over Edward’s head.
“That is not going to happen.” Raw hit the pillow over his head again, and before he could do it a third time, Edward grabbed his own pillow and smashed it into Raw, both laughing and giggling like schoolboys. Eventually, Edward grabbed Raw into a strong embrace and brought his mouth down on his lips.