That night, I watched both the DVDs, but my mind wasn’t really on the overly groomed actors grunting away on-screen. I was picturing a shock of purple hair bobbing between my legs, those big brown eyes giving me that sparkle as he sucked me down. I came harder than I had in a long time.
As I lay in bed in a post-orgasmic haze, I knew I needed to do something about this growing obsession. The question was, what? It was a Friday, and I didn’t have anything else on order, so I wouldn’t see him again until at least Tuesday. Three whole days without so much of a glimpse of purple hair. It was going to be torture, but it wasn’t like I knew where to find him outside of work…or did I?
The following afternoon, I pulled up outside one of the tall, terraced houses lining Caversham Park and killed the engine before hunkering down in my seat and turning to stare at the skate ramps through the railings.
It was at times like these I wished I had a less conspicuous car. Okay, Ollie had never seen it as it was kept locked in the garage, but a vintage red MG
convertible has a way of getting you noticed. I’d bought it as soon as Zoe moved out of home, in the period I was starting to think of as my midlife crisis, even though I’d only been in my late twenties. It was a couple of heady years of making up for all the normal, adolescent things I’d missed out on while bringing up Zoe, but with the added advantage of me having enough money to shower around to ensure I always got plenty of dick. And okay, I know I took it too far with the recklessness and the drugs and the casual sex, but I was paying for it now, wasn’t I?
The April afternoon sun was low in the sky, and it only lit the skater on the ramps when he was at the top, but I could tell that it wasn’t Ollie even from this distance. There were a few other figures in the gloom at the base of the ramps, but it was too murky to distinguish them from each other.
What the hell was I doing here? It was no use trying to pretend to myself that I’d just stopped by while in the neighbourhood, because I’d taken a ten-minute detour through Reading traffic to swing by here on my way back from Zoe’s place. No, I had in fact hit a new low: predatory older man stalking nubile twink at the bloody playground. I was a fucking chickenhawk.
I groaned and sank lower in my seat. I just needed some human contact.
Some intimate, male human contact. Maybe I should just go ahead and do what Zoe kept suggesting—sign up with gaydar.co.uk and be honest about my situation. There must be a few blokes out there who wouldn’t care about the catheter tube so long as they got a decent seeing to. Trouble was, I wasn’t even 26
confident I could promise that anymore. I’d probably be so nervous about my weakened body I wouldn’t be able to get it up, let alone give their arse a proper pounding.
And more to the point, I didn’t want just anyone. I didn’t want simply a convenient hole to stick my dick into. I wanted Ollie with his gappy-tooth grin, boundless energy and sinfully delicious arse.
I had to stop thinking about his arse. There would only be one thing worse than spying on teenage boys in the park, and that was doing so with a stiffy.
I was just about to start the engine and take myself back home when a familiar voice stayed my hand. Ollie!
“And besides, it’s not like you’re using it right now.”
“I said no! Fucking hell, Oll.”
The other voice was gruffer, deeper than Ollie’s, with just a trace of a Pakistani accent. I scanned the street and saw the two figures crossing the road some fifteen yards ahead. They turned in my direction, and I froze. Would they notice me more or less if I sat still? Could I pretend to be visiting someone in the nearby houses if Ollie spotted me? Just how good a liar was I, anyway?
Whatever the argument had been about, Ollie seemed to have let it go, because when he next spoke, I could hear his smile lighting up the words.
“What do you want for dinner tonight? I was thinking I could make pie and mash, seeing as how it’s your favourite.”
Jealousy burst through me with a stinging pain.
“There’s no point trying to get around me like that, and I’m not accepting sexual favours either,” the other lad answered.
I gripped the wheel so tight I’d leave permanent dents in the leather.
The two of them walked straight past the car, and I was treated to a vision of Ollie in baggy jeans and a skinny-fit T-shirt with what looked like rhinestone writing on the front. I wasn’t able to decipher it because I was too busy getting a look at my rival: a tall, dark-skinned guy with a shaved head that gleamed even in the dusk. Shit, they looked good together. Better than Ollie and I ever would.
“You’re no fun,” Ollie grumbled. “Not even a blowjob?”
“Not a chance.”
“I’ll just ask your wife, then, shall I?” Ollie suggested, punching the tall guy on the arm. “I know she’s the one who wears the trousers in your relationship, anyway.”
As Ollie’s friend laughed and scuffled with him, relief flooded through me, turning my arms to jelly. They slithered down the steering wheel and landed on my lap. I sat there until the sound of their banter had faded into the distance, then drove home as fast as I dared.
28
Chapter Four
After my spying mission at the ramps, I tried to go cold turkey for a few days and didn’t order any more DVDs. Of course, I’d forgotten about the one that was out of stock when I’d ordered it, and consequently, I really wasn’t expecting Ollie to be at the door on Monday morning.
What I was expecting was Mrs. Felpersham, the old biddy who lives in the gnome-infested house next door and who insists on calling round once a week to ask how I’m doing. I wouldn’t mind if it were purely an innocent enquiry, but I swear she’s just looking for a chance to snoop around my flat and pass judgment.
I once made the mistake of inviting her in for a cup of tea after Zoe and I first moved in, but after hearing her lecture me about leaving the television on and how it would rot Zoe’s innocent brain, I decided not to let her get past the front door again.
So that’s why I was still bleary-eyed and in my dressing gown when I opened the front door.
“Oh shit!” I exclaimed, then desperately tried to backpedal as I saw Ollie’s face fall. “I mean, I’d have got dressed if I’d known you were coming. I thought it was my neighbour. Her, next door.” I pointed at Mrs. Felpersham’s front door, which sat directly opposite mine over the driveway. I swear the net curtain on the window next to it twitched.
Ollie gave me a lopsided grin. “I see. And do you normally answer the door to her in your PJs…or whatever it is you’re wearing under there?” His gaze panned downwards, and I was acutely aware that I was in nothing more than a pair of boxers under the towelling robe. “Should I be jealous she’s getting special treatment?”
Was he flirting with me? I wished I could just come out with it. Ask him what his intentions towards me were, like one of the heroines in those boring BBC period dramas Zoe used to make me watch with her. I was plucking up my courage to speak when Ollie got there first.
“Hey, nice slippers.”
There’s only one thing more humiliating than the man you have a desperate crush on catching you answering the door in your dressing gown, and that’s when he catches you wearing the bright green monster feet slippers your little sister gave you for Christmas. Especially when your pasty white and hairy shins are visible below the hem of your dressing gown.
I mumbled something about not having bought them myself, but whether or not he believed me, I had no idea. I was signing for the parcel and trying to work out how I was going to phrase my “so, are you gay or what?” query, when the door opposite finally swung open.
“Young man, where’s my parcel? It was meant to come last week.”
“I’ll warn you now,” I muttered so Mrs. F. wouldn’t be able to hear, “she won’t take no for an answer.”
Ollie rolled his eyes and turned to face her over the wall. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any record of a delivery to your address. Ar
e you sure it wasn’t coming by a different carrier?”
Mrs. F. screwed up her nose and peered at him. “Don’t try and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about, young man. I’ll have you know I ordered my little gnome last Monday, and they always come by the end of the week in a bright yellow van.”
30
I groaned both at the idea of yet another gnome polluting her front garden with its creepy good cheer, and at what poor Ollie was about to endure before he managed to get away.
“Sorry, mate,” Ollie said on his way down the driveway, “but that’s really not my problem. You’ll have to get in touch with whoever you ordered it from.”
He turned to fix me with that grin I dreamt about every night. I was willing to swear there was more than just friendly interest there. “Catch you later, yeah?”
“Well, really!” Mrs. F. protested as Ollie’s van peeled off down the road.
“What a thoroughly insolent young man. I’ve a good mind to report him to his boss.”
“Yeah, why don’t you do that? And while you’re at it, you can check if you’ve got your facts straight for a change.”
I slammed my front door on her shocked expression. Bloody interfering old baggage. I’d been so close to asking him that time.
I’d just have to order some more porn.
I was having one of my between bag “recreational breaks” the next morning when I heard Zoe’s key in the door. I hit the pause button, turned off the TV and crossed my fingers, hoping Zoe hadn’t heard the rhythmic grunting coming from the speakers. Fortunately, another baggy T-shirt hid my rapidly subsiding erection, but I still took a moment to think unsexy thoughts before getting up from the sofa.
“I swear, those gnomes next door are breeding. It’s a bloody infestation. You should call Rentokil.”
Yep, reminding me of the eerie garden next door where a thousand ceramic eyes peered out at unsuspecting passersby was an excellent way to deal with inappropriate arousal. I’d have to remember that next time I saw Ollie and his delicious, tempting backside.
The doorbell rang. It couldn’t be. There’s no way the disc I’d ordered yesterday would be here in time for today. But I peered out of the window, and there was Ollie’s van parked outside.
“I’ll get it,” Zoe trilled and was off before I had a chance to protest.
I raced after her as fast as I could, which was more of a slow lumber, and reached the door just as she was telling Ollie how she’d heard all about him.
“Thanks, sis, I’ll take it from here.” I hauled Zoe out of the way and turned so that Ollie wouldn’t be able to see me glaring a warning at her. Zoe just stuck her tongue out at me and slunk off, no doubt to listen in from behind the kitchen door.
“Sorry about that. You know family. Always out to embarrass you.”
Ollie gave an odd smile that twisted his mouth out of shape, and I could have kicked myself. Who knew what his relationship with his family was like, assuming he even had any? Should I ask him? I was trying to work out how to phrase an innocent enquiry about them when he broke the silence.
“Just dropping these off for you. I’ve got all my faves here.” He held out a Forbidden Planet plastic bag stuffed full of comics.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Nah, it’s fine. Actually, you’re doing me a bit of a favour. I’m staying at a mate’s house at the moment, but his missus wants my stuff out of there before she has the baby.”
I took a moment to digest this information. Did Ollie mean he was about to be made homeless by the tall Asian bloke’s wife? Could I offer him a place to stay without creeping him out? I didn’t dare ask. Not yet. I barely knew him, after all. I turned my attention back to the comics.
32
“These look like they’ve been well loved,” I observed, lifting out a dog-eared graphic novel. Most of the guys I’d known who were into comics were so anal about them it was unreal.
“Yeah, I know they’re not in those silly little Mylar bags, but I’d rather enjoy them than get all wound up about their resale value, you know?”
“I’ll look after them for you.”
“That’s cool; I know you will. You seem like the cautious type.” I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or not.
“I can be spontaneous.”
Ollie quirked his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
He held my gaze steadily, and my stomach flipped over as my body broke out in a sweat. Shit. It would have been so easy to lean forward and kiss his smiling lips, but I just couldn’t. Especially not with Zoe inside somewhere and probably spying, if I knew her. Besides which, who’s to say that would be welcome? Just because he was friendly and a bit alternative, didn’t mean he was into guys.
“Look,” Ollie said eventually, fiddling with the leather bracelets round one of his skinny wrists, “I should probably be going. If you want to read the comics, that’s cool. If not, I can take them back. No trouble.”
“No, uh, I mean, yeah, I want to read them. Could do with a distraction.
How about you call by next time you’re passing, and I’ll give them back.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that, and you can let me know which is your favourite. Laters, Ben,” he called, already bouncing down the driveway.
“I told you so,” Zoe said, her arms wrapping around me from behind.
“Definitely interested.”
I turned and indicated my belly, but she just gave me a blank look. I huffed.
“I’m all ill and bloated. He’s not going to want to do anything about it even if he does like me.”
“Rubbish. You don’t look half as bad as you think you do, Benj. You might be a bit flabbier than you used to be, but you’re not overweight.” Zoe reached out and pulled my T-shirt tight against my belly before I managed to squirm away. “All that’s happened is you’ve filled out a bit, like all blokes do when they hit their thirties. How about I take you shopping this weekend? I reckon you’d look pretty hot with some decent clothes that fit you properly. You’ll be able to go out and pull someone your own age then.”
“I’ve got a tube sticking out of my belly!”
“Yeah? So what? You seem to be the only one who gives a shit about that.
You going to let it ruin the rest of your life by hiding away with your dirty DVDs, or are you going to man up, take a few risks and get on with living?” She glared at me with her hands on her hips. Jesus, if she only knew how much she looked like Mum just then.
I leant down to pick up the bag of comics. “I’m not allowed to take risks anymore, you know that. Now if you’ve finished your little lecture, I want to go and have a look at these.”
I tried to make as dignified a retreat as possible, but the bag was heavy, and I swayed, stumbling into the wall. Before I knew what had happened, Zoe was there, hooking my arm around her shoulders and helping me to my bedroom.
“You should have a lie-down. Chill for a bit.”
“Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute.” I sank back into my pillows, sleep claiming me almost instantly.
34
Chapter Five
Zoe worked in the restaurant all day Saturday, so we didn’t get to go shopping until Sunday. It’d been a couple of years since I’d walked around the pedestrianised centre of Reading, but aside from an awful lot more mobile phone shops than I remembered, nothing much seemed to have changed. The April sunshine lit up the same grand old buildings and gilded the same crowds meandering around and spilling out onto the pavements outside coffee shops and bars.
It was me who was different.
Every step seemed to take an enormous effort. Zoe kept tugging on my arm, as if she was desperate to get to whichever store was going to make a dent in my bank balance next. I suppose we were working to a bit of a tight schedule, as I needed to be back home by two o’clock to drain my belly.
As we passed Marks and Sparks, I peered down the road, hoping for a glimpse of the bar I used to frequent with the guys f
rom work. It hadn’t been a particularly gay-friendly bar—although I got a definite vibe off one of the bartenders—but it had been great for picking up a gram of coke before heading somewhere a shade pinker. Nostalgia welled up inside me. Not for the drugs and the mindless hookups that followed, but for the sense of opportunity and hope those evenings always began with.
“Come on, Benj. I want to check out what they’ve got in Gap. There were these really smart gilets in the window a few weeks ago, and I reckon you’d rock that look.”
“Gilets? What the hell’s a gilet?”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Gawd, and there was me thinking gay blokes were meant to know all about fashion. Whatever would Gok Wan make of you?”
“Dunno, but I doubt even he’d be willing to tell me I look good naked.”
“Could we lose the self-pity for a while, please? There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. You’ve got a nice face, and you’re tall with broad shoulders.
Case closed.”
Since I didn’t want to go into the way the catheter tube stuck out of me like an alien growth, or the bald patch I had to keep shaving on my belly so I could stick the tube down, I wisely decided to change the subject. I was probably far too obsessed with my lower abdomen, but as it was so close to my favourite part of my anatomy, could I be blamed?
“Zo, I know you’re used to spending all day on your feet, but I need a rest.
I’m all shopped out, and these bags are heavy.” They really were as well. I had three large bags on each arm, all stuffed full of clothing that Zoe assured me I simply had to buy.
She looked like she was about to protest, but then something melted, and she gave a wry smile. “Sorry. You do look a bit pale. Okay, how about here? Unless you’d rather find a Starbucks or a Nero?”
Here was a rather homespun, ramshackle-looking place that I’d probably not have looked twice at back in the day, but right then, I was so exhausted I’d have been willing to stop at a bloody MacDonald’s.
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