by J P Sayle
“Come on, time to eat. You must be hungry by the size of the cake you picked.” Manoeuvring him on the chair closest, he pulled his chin up. Brad needed to hear his words. “There is nothing you have told me that has put me off. If anything, I respect you more, knowing what you went through. You have gotten on with your life and not let it beat you. You are an amazing human being. I would be proud to call you mine.”
Brad’s face was now the twin of the waitress’s. His eyes fixed on his, almost like a tractor beam pulling them together. Unable to resist, he planted a quick kiss on his lips. “We will talk more about this. Not now or in public, and I’m sorry I pushed when I should have waited for a more private place to talk. I will make it up to you, I promise.” His voice dropped low, allowing the sexy timbre to vibrate on the promise. He was pleased when Brad squirmed in his seat. Martin left it at that, wanting to enjoy the rest of their day.
On the drive to Douglas, Brad’s confession seemed to lighten things between them. The beach walk they planned was altered to incorporate a visit to the hairdressers, Mop Hair, to book an appointment. Brad explaining the hairdressers had moved several months earlier to a new location in Douglas from the village.
Irrational fear spread through Martin. “You’re not cutting off your hair, are you?”
Brad’s giggle didn’t lessen it. “I just really need a haircut.” He pointed to his man bun he’d created after they had left the sound. Brad shrugged as if that answered the question. Not wanting to appear to overbearing, Martin let the subject drop.
Brad took his hand, guiding him to the ice cream parlour. “Come on, let me buy you ice cream, as you paid for lunch.” His boyish charms made Martin forget his worries.
They strolled for miles, hands linked. He listened to Brad’s melodic voice chatter. Having ripped the plaster of his past earlier, it appeared easier for him to talk. Brad was a fountain of knowledge of the history of the horse-drawn trams that ran from May until October yearly. He explained about the regeneration project and the plans to move the tram tracks. Admitting, he’d gotten most of the information from the local newspapers and radio.
Brad laughed, explaining he’d taken Princess for a spin on the tram, only for them to be asked to get off. The squawking had frightened the poor horse, so they’d never repeated it.
Not sure he heard correctly, Martin interrupted, “What did you say?” Martin was unable to contain his curiosity.
Brad smiled at him as if what he was saying was an everyday thing. “Princess. I am not sure how long cats live for, but she has always been in my life. Twenty-two years I think is my first memory of her.”
Flabbergasted, Martin felt his hair prickle with awareness. He shivered as if something eerie skittered down his spine. “Are you sure your gran just never got another cat and fibbed to you?” The lifespan of animals was not something he was familiar with, but he was damn sure they didn’t live that long.
Brad shook his head, explaining the photos and his time spent just with Princess and no one else. The full implication of his words hit. Martin forgot about Princess.
“You hardly leave the house?”
Brad nodded. Wide eyes stared back.
“How did you have relationships?” The question was out before he could stop it.
Brad’s shoulders hunched defensively. “I haven’t had any relationships.” His words were not much better as he growled.
Blown away, Martin was immensely pleased by that information. He found himself grinning all the way back to the car.
Brad
He was surprised at the swiftness of the day after the length of time he’d spent stressing beforehand. He’d acted like a teen, spending the previous day shopping. Bemoaning the state of his wardrobe, he hadn’t bothered in years. His underwear made him shudder when his cock played peek-a-boo with the holes. They were not even fit for dusting rags. The cost versus embarrassment, there was no competition.
The light of appreciation in Martin’s eyes was worth all the effort. Now he prayed he’d get to see all his purchases. Brad felt his elation glimmer to life. Growing, it bloomed with every touch Martin gave.
How had things turned out so well? The world had not ended when he had finally spoken about some of his past. His earlier meltdown with Princess now seemed ridiculous. To Brad, this was a whole new concept to accept. He felt cherished. Warmth spreading every time Martin had unconsciously touched him in some way. Not only that. He had done it in public. Not even batting an eyelid, not caring what others thought.
He, on the other hand, had wanted to die, the floor to open and swallow him whole when Martin had placed him on his lap in the café. Who does that? He chuckled as he remembered the waitress’s face. Her eyeballs had nearly fallen out of her head.
Brad rubbed absently at his chest. The ache he felt was too deep to reach. The ball of emotion stuck in his throat. Why him? He was so damaged, yet it didn’t seem to matter to Martin. Everything else faded into the background when Martin held him. There was only them and Martin’s only concern seemed to be him.
Their conversation had flowed, but there’d been no mention of what would happen now they were back at the car. He chewed his lip as butterflies swarmed in his belly. His hands felt clumsy as he attempted to fasten the seatbelt. Several attempts later, he watched Martin lean over and clicked it straight in. He shot a quick glance at Martin to thank him, but words died on his lips.
Roughened skin traced his knuckles and Brad shivered. Goosebumps erupted over his body as Martin’s hot breath grazed his cheek. Brad leaned forward, unsure of his intention, until lips brushed Martin’s day-old whiskers. The prickling reminded him of Princess. His last thought slipped away when warm lips connected with Martin’s. They felt like the softest of pillows as they brushed against his. He wanted to get lost, wallow in their depths. The gentleness of the touch seared itself to Brad’s soul.
The tempo of his heart fully understood this was a moment to be treasured. Melting into the seat, he lifted languid arms as his hands slid into Martin’s hair. The silkiness glided under his palms felt as soft as satin. He looked directly into Martin’s eyes as he pulled back. Heat simmered, but there was something deeper. Brad’s breath shuddered out at the thought that there could be more. Sitting back, Brad let his hope take hold.
The engine roared to life as they pulled into traffic. Sucking his lip, he considered how to handle what was going on inside him. Gripping the door handle and looking out the window, Brad aimed for nonchalant. “Where um are we, eh going now?”
Martin’s lips twitched, showing he’d missed by a mile. “I thought we could take the long route home. Go via Ramsey and have some fish and chips. It’s a bit chilly. We could eat them in the car or sit inside. The Trawlerman chip shop on the main street has a café area we could sit in and eat there if you want?”
Relief was immense as Brad was back to the nodding dog impersonation. He sighed in disgust when heat flooded his cheeks. Why was he such a dork?
Feeling relaxed after the meal, Brad watched the scenery flash by. Thoughts of their earlier conversation distracted him. They’d barely touched on the subject of his scars. He felt restless, and his hands plucked at the jacket on his lap. What would happen when they got home? The earlier interruption was now a relief as thoughts of being fully naked in the same room scared him witless.
Words from the other night, “let me look at all of you” came to him. They were just words when they were not in the same room. But now his insecurities bullied their way through his newfound confidence. It wanted to remind him of what he knew his clothes hid. How could Martin not be repulsed? Others had been. Swallowing the ball of tears that gathered in his throat, he blinked away the moisture and pretended the setting sun must be making his eyes water.
He heaved a sigh as his hair tumbled around his face. Searching for his hair bobble, he ignored Martin’s concerned gaze.
“Leave it down, baby. I like it.” Martin’s fingers brushed at his curls for a second.
Brad watched his mouth curving in pleasure when Brad tucked it behind his ears instead.
His mind though wouldn’t settle. It nagged like an old fish wife. Would his inexperience be off-putting? Memories of last night tormented him. His lack hadn’t stopped Martin’s desire. In fact, it seemed to egg Martin on, driving his need higher. But would that be the same in person? Doubts pushed at him as other memories jabbed. Sex had always resulted in jarring words about his body, leaving him more devastated. Insecurities worsened with each encounter.
Martin had more experience, whereas Brad had none. Hell, who wouldn’t want to be with Martin, he was fucking gorgeous. Whereas Brad on the other hand, was a plain Jane. Surely he would tire of him? There were so many kinks out there to explore. What did Brad have to offer? Surely Martin would need more than him. He wouldn’t be able to compete with some hot stud.
Brad’s hands clutched at the thought of Martin moving on, finding someone else. More than that, he didn’t want anyone touching Martin when Brad felt he now belonged to him. Fingers ached to scratch the eyes out of some faceless man. Tightness in his chest made it difficult to breathe. Brad felt his pulse pounding with rage. Glaring at Martin, he gnawed his lower lip, feeling it swell from the abuse. He was driving himself nuts, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
Tension mounted between them. Martin’s words barely penetrated past the red haze.
“You may as well ask me whatever has you jiggling around in your seat like you have ants in your pants.”
The illogical anger had him wanting to wipe the grin off Martin’s face. He had never been violent in his life though, and Brad carefully sat on his hands to avoid temptation.
“The look on your face is telling me two things.” Martin held up his fingers, counting. “One, you’re concerned about the next step, and two, what will happen if we get to an actual bedroom rather than a kitchen or driveway. Am I correct?”
Brad itched. His hands twitched under his thighs. Smugness was not very becoming, even on Martin. It grated that he’d hit the nail on the head on both counts. He was just grateful he wasn’t a mind reader. His jealousy at the faceless man who would in the future replace him was not something he wanted to share.
How to explain? Chewing his tortured lip, Brad sought Martin’s eyes for a second, not wanting to distract while he was driving.
The tapping fingers on the steering wheel kept time to the music, making Brad wonder if maybe Martin wasn’t as confident as he portrayed. Hopeful, he glanced back and nodded. “You’re partly right. The first question, yes. But the second one is more complicated.”
Focusing on the dashboard, Brad tried to explain, “I have very little, and I mean very little, experience with sex of any kind.” His face flamed at the emphasis, but it needed to be said to avoid Martin being disappointed. Brad wouldn’t be able to cope if Martin rejected him later. “I am worried you will be dissatisfied because I don’t know what I am doing or how to do the things you may want. You’re dominating, and though I like it a lot, it would seem.” He wiggled when heat spread between his legs. “I am not sure I can be submissive all the time or even want to be. Do you understand?” Brad gave a quick glance at Martin, looking for a response.
As Martin spoke, Brad struggled to believe what he was saying.
“Brad, your inexperience excites me. I am pretty sure it has been obvious in our previous encounters, no?” Pausing, Martin connected with his gaze. Molten heat poured towards Brad, lighting his very soul. “I have already said you’re like a blank canvas. I have no real expectations. Baby, that is a rare gift we can explore together, at your speed. I will love whatever we do. As long as you don’t hide your passion or your needs from me, then we will be fine.” The intense stare only broke as Martin looked back at the road.
“We have barely touched the tip of the iceberg, baby, and yes, I can be dominating, but we will always be equals. We will go at your pace. There is no rush.”
He was stunned by Martin’s final statement. The quiet all but thrummed with sexual tension. It twisted between them, holding tight. Needing to cool down, Brad bent forward and switched on the air conditioning. He might faint if he got any hotter. He was so lost in his little world it took a minute to realise they were home until Martin spoke.
“Do you want to come in for a bit, or do you want to go home and think about everything we have discussed today?”
The question was a balm to his frayed nerves. Thank God, Martin was giving him a choice. His eyes brightened, gleaming with joy as he opened the car door. Brad moved and came round the car watching Martin as he got out. The expectant look had Brad grabbing Martin’s face. Wetting his lips, Brad felt emboldened, and he took charge. Brad yanked Martin closer, teasing Martin’s lips with his tongue, enjoying the moment before their mouths merged. The taste of chocolate ice cream lingered and sweetened the kiss. Hungry for more, Brad felt his need rising as he delved deeper, seeking the rich dark taste that was purely Martin.
Satisfaction had him groaning. His legs automatically climbed his jungle gym. He was giddy at the rightness, and his cock bucked against Martin’s. Perfect. Coughing lanced his lust-induced bubble. He dragged his mouth away with effort as he searched for the source of interruption. He sighed with disappointment when he saw who was behind them.
This was starting to get annoying. Embarrassment at being caught faded as fascination took over. Brad watched as Ms Stevens’s teeth clicked together. He wondered if that was painful. Martin’s hard tone interrupted his thoughts.
“Hello, Ms Stevens, and what can we do for you on this fine evening?” The steel that glinted in Martin’s eyes had Brad shuddering. He hoped he was never on the receiving end of that look. The awkwardness stretched. Her roaming stare made his skin crawl. He scrubbed his hands over his face. The urge to hide made his insides quiver. He’d experienced that look before, and it only brought pain.
Martin’s hands gripped, pulling him tighter, not letting him jump down. Warmth spread into the place where there had always been coldness. He settled his head into the crook of Martin’s neck, feeling empowered by his strength.
Progression locally on gay rights was reminiscent of a snail. The UK legalised gay relationships in 1967, but it had only been decriminalised locally in 1992. The lack of progression on gay rights appeared to be standing right in front of him. The urge to say love is love had his throat closing as hate gathered itself in front of him.
“There was someone at your door earlier, Martin. I was too late to catch them to ask what they wanted. I just wanted to let you know.” Lies bled from her lips. Brad could see her smile was insincere. Feeling at a loss, Brad said nothing and let Martin handle it.
Martin waved her off, thanking her as an afterthought as he stalked into his home carrying him. The movement reignited all his senses as hard muscles bunched under his. Martin’s words though quickly dampened his ardour.
“Do you know, if you were not my complete focus right now, I would tell that nosey bugger where to go and consider bloody moving. Christ, the look she gave us. You would think we lived in the fucking dark ages.”
Martin vibrated with anger, and it made Brad cringe. It seemed to take a moment for it to penetrate past Martin’s red haze. “It’s okay, baby. I’m not angry at you.” Martin’s sheepish smile took some of the sting out and gave Brad a sense of relief.
“It just riles me. I have never hidden who I am or who I choose as a partner. I can’t remember the last time I had someone look at me like that.”
Disbelief clouded Brad’s face. His whole life had been about hate for what he was. Hiding for him was second nature. Brad was pleased when Martin wrapped him in his arms, offering him silent support.
He needed something to break the tension Ms Stevens had caused. Brad nuzzled closer. “I like this position. At least I can put my head on your shoulder. You being a Gigantor makes it nigh on impossible when I am on the ground.” Martin’s chuckles brushed his cheek, loosening the ball of tension in his gut.
Martin’s look of understanding had him melting along with the sweet kiss. Pleasure floated through him as Martin increased the touch. The heat held at bay for the moment as they both took comfort from the gentle touch. Brad was dazzled by the kiss, and his eyes glittered as Martin offered hope of a second date.
“I enjoyed today. I hope we can do it again soon. Maybe next time we can get to the naked part.” Martin’s flirty words had a giggle erupt.
Another date with sexy time, woohoo. Jubilant, Brad all but danced towards home, bouncing with joy. Words burst out as the door slammed. “Princess. Princess, come on, girl. Where are you? I have soooo… much to tell you.”
Disgruntled noises had him heading for the kitchen. She was perched on the counter. The look singed before the little head huffed away. Brad’s guilt button switched to automatic. His stomach heaved as he was unsure how he could fix the damage.
The side-eyed glance caught him off guard. Princess’s gleam of satisfaction was glaringly obvious. Backpedalling, he straightened his shoulders. Reinforcing as the mantra echoed through his mind. “He was the boss in this house.” Well, or so Princess let him believe, sometimes. Heat died as he was unable to stop the pleading tone. Did he have a backbone? Yeah, that was laughable!
“Come on. You know you want me to be happy.” Brad’s eyes begged of their own accord as reality struck. He felt disgruntled at his behaviour. “Christ. Why am I bloody pleading with you?” Princess rolled her eyes, telling him exactly why he did it. He watch her jump off the counter and stalk out of the room, arse held high.
Bellyaching laughter rang out. “Princess, you’re such a riot. I will kiss it when I catch you.” Choking on his laughter, Brad gripped his sides.