DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | The Second Day
Summary: Stuart ends up a bit gun shy emotionally after being left alone by Vince and it takes him a little time to get "back in the swing of things". Kate comes to visit for the engagement party.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Bibliographic notation: This title is a line deeply embedded in the Molly Bloom soliloquy, otherwise known as the chapter "Episode 18: Penelope" of James Joyce's Ulysses. As we all know, Mr. Joyce is also an Irishman.
Stuart:
Kate's flight was due to arrive at half passed seven that Wednesday night. She called him from her mobile as soon as the plane stopped at the gate just to make sure he was really there in the airport waiting for her. She sounded exhausted, but still very much herself and he couldn't wait to see her.
It seemed to have taken her an inordinately long time to get through customs and Stuart was starting to worry. Finally, she emerged up the ramp with her Louis Vuitton luggage in tow, a long black wool coat wrapped around her lean frame. She looked regal in her black cashmere beret and her pale pink scarf, her long red hair plaited
down her back in one braid.
"Hey, lady!" Stuart shouted down to her. "Wanna lift?"
Kate looked up at him with surprised eyes and burst out laughing, quickening her pace to the outlet at the top of the ramp. Stuart weeded through the throng of people standing along the railing and made his way down to greet her.
"Oh my God, that was the longest flight in the history of the world!" she shrieked, throwing her arms around him. "You look so fabulous!" She held him by the shoulders and looked him up and down with her bright green eyes, grinning broadly. "Happy? You look happy."
"I'm happy that you're here," he said, hugging her again. "And yes. I'm happy. Is all this yours?" He looked down at the two rather large suit cases she'd been wheeling behind her and also regarded her carry-on that was stuffed full and nearly as big as her.
"I tried to pack light," she said, sheepishly, her words coming out a bit too quickly. "Which was a huge laugh. You should have seen me. I almost called you to talk me through it-like an intervention-so I wouldn't end up bringing everything I owned in four colors-like I did. At the end of it all, I came to the conclusion that women are just not meant to go anywhere for more than one night with less than nine bags. Vince didn't come with you?"
"He's making dinner for you at home. Had a few million cappuccinos on the plane, eh?" He teased, taking the handles of her suitcases and rolling them behind him. Stuart hooked her arm with his free
hand and they started out of the airport.
"I had to try and stay awake," she explained. "I figured we'd start drinking immediately so I had to dose myself with caffeine to keep from falling asleep in my first martini. Vince is cooking? What a sweetie. He didn't have to do that."
"He loves to cook," Stuart said. "Believe me, he's happy to do it."
"Are we really SURE he's okay with me staying? It's almost a full week that I'll be under foot."
"You won't be at all, luv. You'll have your own room, your own bathroom. You won't be underfoot, I promise. And he's glad you're staying. He told me he was hoping you two could spend some time together. Get to know each other more."
"He said that?" she said, incredulously.
"He doesn't hate you, Katey." Stuart handed her his umbrella and told her to open it as they approached the airport's automatic doors. It had been raining like a bitch all day and showed no signs of letting up.
"Damn!" Kate exclaimed looking through the doors at the torrential weather. "It just falls outta the sky like that here?"
Stuart laughed. "You've never seen rain before?"
"It doesn't look like this in New York. It's much more . . . civilized. More of a gray flannel and polished Oxfords sort of rain. This is rude, uneducated, country rain in a burlap shirt and Timberland boots!"
Grinning hard, he put a kiss on her cool cheek. "I'm so glad you're here. Now, open the umbrella or we'll be drowned like rats in a dustbin."
Kate opened the giant black umbrella and held it over both their heads as they stepped out into the downpour and headed for the car park.
* * *
Vince:
He turned the thermostat up a bit more as he walked around the flat making sure everything was in order. The vodka was chilled, olives out in a dish, clam chowder steaming on the cooker and fresh French bread warming in the oven.
Vince took one more quick pass through the guest room Kate would be using, making sure she had everything she would need. He'd left specific instructions for their housekeeper to leave clean towels in the bathroom and fresh linens on the bed. He'd gone out right after Stuart left for the airport and got some fresh lavender and garden roses from the corner florist. The blooms smelled lovely and sweet and he put the whole bunch of them in a small vase on the night table by her bed. He read somewhere that the scent of lavender aided restful sleep so he thought he'd give it a whirl. Kate would be exhausted and she was only staying six days-just enough time to get over her jet lag, then go home and get it all over again.
Satisfied that the room was in order, he went out to the lounge and put some CD's into the player. Massive Attack, Moby, Everything But the Girl, ColdPlay and Travis. He pressed the button to shuffle the tracks and then he went to the kitchen to make himself a drink.
Just as he finished mixing a gin and tonic, Stuart and Kate walked through the front door, both of them battling her fancy luggage and
the drenched umbrella.
"Hello!" she called. "Oh my God, what smells so YUMMY?"
Vince gave her a warm hug and kissed both her cheeks. "Hiya. Welcome back to Manchester."
"Thank you, sugar. Actually, I really missed it here. What's for dinner? I'm starved!"
"I hope you don't mind clam chowder," he said. "I thought on a wet night like this it might be nice."
"It sounds great," she said. The three of them started rolling her luggage toward the guest room when the phone rang.
"I'll just get that," Vince said, grabbing the phone near the kitchen. "Hel-loh?"
"Hi, Vince. It's Sandra. Sorry to bother you at home."
"Oh, no bother. How are ya?"
"Fine. Just a bit stressed. We've got a client suing us over a reimbursement we don't feel we owe him and it's getting a bit dodgy. Is Stuart around?"
"Yeah. Hang on one second." He set the receiver down and went after Stuart and Kate as they were just hoisting her bags onto the guest bed. Vince leaned in the doorway. "Luv, it's Sandra. Some emergency or other."
"Christ, it's that fucking Darlington no doubt," Stuart groaned. "You all right with these?" he asked her.
"Of course, go on," Kate said. "Tell that excellent Sandra `hi' and don't let Bill Darlington get to you. He's a litigation junkie. Does it for sport."
Stuart rolled his eyes and passed Vince in the doorway, giving him a soft, quick kiss on the lips. "Thanks."
"Sure," he said, trying not to look as surprised as he was. He stepped into the guest room and helped Kate get her other bag up onto the bed. It wasn't that heavy, just awkward and he had to wonder what on earth she had in there.
"I know," she said, shaking her head at the bags. "It's ridiculous. Two huge bags and a carry-on for less than a week. Only a woman would do this."
"Clearly you didn't notice how much luggage Stuart brought to New York," Vince said, grinning. "He's not one to pack light, either." He opened the wardrobe for her and showed her the two empty drawers in the small dresser. "If you need any more space, there's another wardrobe in the second guest room. Feel free to spread out at will.
It's just us, after all."
"Vince, thank you so much." She slipped off her black beret and set it on the night table next to the vase of fresh flowers. Kate took in a deep breath. "Oh my God-is that real lavender?" She picked up the vase and sniffed the colorful blooms. "That's so nice." She gave him a sweet smile. "You thought of everything."
"I tried to," he said, bashfully. "And speaking of that, let me get you a cocktail, yeah?"
"Fab! I'll just wash up a little and I'll be right out. Oh-wait." She reached into her carry-on bag and rifled some of the things near the top. "Brian gave me something for you. He said it was an antique and fragile so he didn't want to ship it. Made me promise to take it in my carry-on and baby-sit it the whole way over." She took out a box the size of a deck of playing cards. It was wrapped nicely in simple, dark blue paper with a silver ribbon tied around it. "I have no idea what it is because he refused to tell me. But he said it was specifically for you."
"Right, thanks." Vince took the box and examined it, curiously. He peeled the paper off and wiggled open the fold at the top of the box. The contents was encased in bubble wrap and tissue paper and as soon as he got his fingers around it he guessed what it was. Sliding the slim, solid object out, he carefully removed its protective
covering and held the delicate silver plated hand mirror up to the light.
"A mirror?" Kate's little nose wrinkled curiously.
"Yeah," Vince said, feeling his cheeks burn with blush as he recalled the incident that inspired that gift.
"I don't want to know, do I?" she said, grinning.
"Um . . ."
Stuart came back into the room, muttering about that fucking twat Darlington and then he saw the mirror in his lover's hand. "What's that?"
"It's from Brian," Vince told him pointedly, his eyes sparkling.
Stuart chuckled, shaking his head. "Cheeky bastard." He walked over and took the mirror out of Vince's hand to examine it. "It matches the pattern on the brush almost perfectly," he said.
"I noticed that."
"Oh, God," Kate groaned. "This is TOO dishy. Come on, tell me. What's with the mirror?"
"You're too young to know," Stuart joked, sticking out his tongue.
She reached for one of the soft throw pillows decorating the bed and lobbed it at him.
He laughed, catching the pillow and lobbing it back. "Let's have a drink first. Then maybe I'll tell you. IF you're good."
Vince followed him out of the guest bedroom to let Kate get settled and they went out to the kitchen together. Stuart turned the small mirror in his hand, getting a good look at it, smirking like a naughty schoolboy the whole time.
"Now our goodie drawer is complete."
"I suppose." Vince went to the fridge and got out the ice drastically changing the subject. "Stuart, you make better martinis than I do. Would you mind?"
Walking up behind his lover, Stuart held the mirror out in front of Vince's face and tilted it until they could both see their reflections. "Only if you promise we can use this tonight."
Vince lowered his chin, looking at him incredulously. "Stuart, that little peck in the doorway just then is the first time you've kissed me in a week. I'd really like to discuss why we haven't shagged since I came home from Hazel's before we start talking about sex games. All right?"
Stuart backed up as though he'd been slapped, looking away with a wounded frown.
"If you're trying to torture me by withholding sex, it's bloody working," Vince went on, coolly. "I'm dying for you and you're making me feel like you don't love me by keeping away."
"I'm not keeping away," Stuart said, impetuously. "We're sleeping with each other."
"Sleeping isn't shagging," Vince said, enunciating each word for emphasis.
"I'm not ready," the brunette said. "And you know I love you."
Vince just shook his head. "Fine." He took the mirror out of Stuart's hand and walked up to the bedroom with it.
Just being in there made him ache all over for Stuart's touch. Vince had been patient, waiting for his lover to open up again after he'd taken those few days to think at Hazel's house. He hadn't expected to get the sexual cold shoulder for this many days, though. He'd grown so accustomed to their very regular lovemaking that he didn't
realize how much it meant to him. How much it defined their relationship. He desperately missed the intimacy and closeness of penetrating each other, of pleasing each other. He longed to hear Stuart moaning in his ear and writhing against him as he came.
Standing by the night table, Vince turned that little antique mirror over in his hand. It was delicate and lovely and must have cost Brian a bit. He opened the drawer and placed the mirror carefully inside next to the silver hairbrush.
When he went back to the kitchen, Kate was sitting on a barstool with her hair swept up in a big plastic clip. She and Stuart were chattering and laughing like school kids and he was busy making martinis. Vince sat beside her and leaned on the counter, giving their guest a smile.
"Good flight?" he asked amiably.
"Long," she said. "Fucking. Long. British Airways can kiss my lily white ass. I am never flying them again after this! I ordered a vegetarian meal and they didn't fucking bring it!"
"You're a vegetarian?" Vince said, suddenly concerned about what he'd made for dinner.
"No, are you KIDDING?!" Kate said. "I'm the biggest carnivore I know. But if you order something special on a plane, it's usually much fresher than the standard cardboard chicken and mystery meat they feed the normal passengers. However, these assholes just forgot! I guess they figured I didn't need to eat for ten and half
hours. Bastards." She munched a couple of the olives Vince had left out on the counter.
"Luv, you must be starving," Vince said. "Do you want to eat now?"
"Sure," she said. "I am starving, but don't worry-I made them rustle me up something on the plane. I wasn't letting them off the hook that easily. Flight attendants had to make me a salad and give me extra bread and cheese. It worked out fine." She grinned playfully.
"You're such a pain in the arse," Stuart said, winking.
"That's why you love me, bunny." Kate winked back.
Stuart shook the martini mixture in the shaker. "Right, let's eat then. Drinks first, though."
"That always works for me," she said. "Oh, can I call that brat, Brian? He wanted me to let him know when I got his gift here safely."
Stuart handed her the phone while he continued shaking the drinks. "Vince, you should tell him thanks. That little mirror's lovely."
"I should, yeah," he said.
They looked at each other for a long moment, both feeling the need to say something more, but neither of them actually did.
Kate dialed the long string of numbers to reach the States and then she frowned at the two of them. "What's this, snarling? You can't fight, you have a house guest. That's straight from Emily Post."
"It's all right," Stuart told her as he poured their drinks. "Mention of Brian puts us both on edge a bit is all."
Kate rolled her eyes. "Christ, he is such a pain in the ass. He doesn't even have to be in the same country and he still makes people tense." She brought the phone to her ear, waiting for the line to connect. She waited a long time, then glanced at her watch. "Voice mail. That's weird. It's only 4:30 there. Hi, Butthead, it's Kate.
Just wanted you to know I got here okay and the drop was successful with your gifty. I'll call you later this week. Stay outta jail. Love ya." She hung up and handed the phone back to Vince. "Good," she said. "I didn't want to talk to him, anyway."
He smiled, sliding off the barstool and walking the phone back over to its cradle. When he returned Stuart handed him a drink.
"To Kate being with us," Vince said, raising his glass to her.
"Oh, thank you, but I want to make a toast to you guys." Kate touched her very full glass to each of theirs, sloshing a bit of vodka over the thin side as she did. She gave them each a smile. "To my most favorite couple in the whole world. Congratulations on your engagement and I wish you both a long and deliriously happy life together."
Smiling over the rim of his glass, Vince drank to her good wishes. Stuart tapped his glass against both of theirs, his dark blue eyes batting softly at his lover.
Vince had to look away.
* * *
Kate:
Vince is on the phone in the other room with their friend, Romey, making some last minute changes with the caterer. Apparently Romey arranged all the food for the party on Saturday-the caterer is a friend of hers from the university or something. Vince seems happy to have something to do other than being with Stuart and now that the cute little dark-haired boy and I are alone in the livingroom, I lean over and whisper to him.
"Mighty chilly between you two," I say. "I thought you had the hottest love affair this side of the Lady Liberty. What gives?"
He lowers those pretty blue eyes and I have a second to marvel at the length and density of his black lashes. We're lying on our tummies on the rug in front of the tv but it's not on. We're still listening to the new Moby record-which I love.
Stuart sighs. "It's . . . we're just . . . still recovering from last week."
"And that means?"
He squirms and I can tell he doesn't want to talk about this. It's close to the bone. "You know," he says, trying to smile. "It ain't over `til there's penetration." He gives me that lopsided grin I love to death and I have to smile.
"Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me that the two of you haven't had sex since last week?"
He just looks at me to confirm.
"God . . ." I say, letting out a long breath. I'm completely undone by this information. "And you don't need a wheelchair yet?"
Stuart drains his fourth martini then rolls over onto his back. "I don't really know what my problem is, Kate. I feel . . . weird. Like . . . I'm scared to touch him or something. Not to touch him-I mean, we've been sleeping together like we normally do, I'm just not . . . I can't shag him. I can't kiss him, even."
"Showering together?" I ask cuz I'm starting to put this in perspective. I think I know what his damage is.
"Yeah, but not . . . you know."
"No Fun with Suds."
"Right."
"Yep," I say. "Finally, you've got a problem I can actually iientify with. Let me explain." I lay on my back, too, and we turn our heads to look at each other. "That whole thing with him leaving you freaked you out really deeply. Vince has been there for you every day of your life for seventeen years and then-all of a sudden-poof!"
"Watch the slurs, luv," he warns and we both chuckle.
"I mean, he just up and left you. Your lover, your life support system. Tell me this-did you masturbate when he was gone those four days?"
"Nope," he says and I completely believe him.
"Nocturnal emissions?"
"Yes. Twice."
"Well, you had to get that stuff out or it would poison you. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"
"Not at all. I just woke up twice with spunk all over me."
"Right," I say. "This is like a chick thing. Being a gay man, you have the rare experience of being able to both penetrate and BE penetrated. Women get only one side of that coin. So, for women, sex is this INTERNAL thing that happens inside your body. For straight men, it's external-outside. That's why so many straight men are such clueless insensitive dicks. They don't experience their sexuality as an internal mechanism like we do. What's happening here is that you had your trust trampled when Vince bailed for those few days. He's the only person you have EVER trusted, bunny, and he let you down. You need to be ready to let him back inside."
Stuart just stares at me and for a minute I think he's going to start cracking up laughing and tell me what a sentimental freak I am. But he doesn't do that. He looks down thoughtfully and scratches his chin with his manicured nails. All my fag friends have the best hands.
"That's deep," he says.
I shrug. "Such is the result of vodka and jet lag. Sorry."
He smiles and puts a kiss on my cheek. His lips are satiny and warm and I suddenly feel terrible for Vince having missed those lips for over a week.
"You do trust him, right?" I ask.
"'Course I do."
"Then go to bed tonight and screw his adorable brains out. You guys'll be fine in the morning." I laugh forcing myself to sit up. I'm drunk and tired and achy and I know I have to go to sleep right away. "Believe me, I'll be out like a light so you won't bother me."
"I wouldn't worry about you hearing us shag anyway," he says. "I'd only worry about looking up and seeing you at the foot of the bed with a fuckin' video camera."
I giggle as I stand up. "Oh, Stuey. You know me so well. Walk me to bed, you cute little fucker."
He holds up his hand and makes me pull him up, lazy bastard. Then we walk across the room and I wave at Vince who's still on the phone with Romey.
"Ah, jetlag got ya?" he says, giving me that open, gentle smile of his.
"Big time. Thank you so much for dinner, Vince. It was great."
"My pleasure. Sleep well and let us know if you need anything at all."
"I will. Good night."
He wishes me good night and Stuart guides me to the guest room door where he hugs me tightly.
"Do you need anything?"
"I'm perfectly fine," I say. "I'm going to brush my teeth and fall into that lovely bed you've made for me. Did you see the lavender Vince got?" I nod over my shoulder at the vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand.
"Yeah," Stuart smiles. "That's very him."
I hold his chin in my hand and look into those sapphire colored eyes. "He's an excellent person, Stuart. Forgive him. Go and kiss every inch of his body and make really hard love to him tonight. Promise?"
"Have you got ear plugs?" he says and his eyes glitter with mischief.
I laugh and hug him again. "Jet lag will render me suitably deaf. Have no fear. Scream at the top of your lungs if you want-I'll be none the wiser. Good night, bunny."
"Good night. Thanks for coming."
"Wouldn't have missed it," I say because I wouldn't have. Then I close the door and head for the bed.
Stuart:
Vince was just finishing his call with Romey when Stuart came back out to the kitchen. His lover was scribbling on a pad of paper with all his party arrangement notes on it and he and Romey were discussing the different types of desserts they wanted to serve.
Stuart leaned on the fridge and waited a bit nervously while their conversation wound down. After Vince hung up, he turned around and rested against the counter. They looked at each other in the low kitchen light.
"Kate all right, then?" he asked.
"Yeah. She'll be asleep in two seconds flat."
"Nice chat?"
"Yeah," Stuart said, smiling as shyly as he was able. "Thanks for letting her stay here. It's nice for me."
"I know, luv," Vince said. "I like her. She's funny and sweet."
Stuart nodded his agreement.
Taking a deep breath, Vince looked down at his notes. "Romey wants to serve those little pecan tarts you like. And chocolate brownies with cream."
"Mm. Sounds lovely." Stuart lowered his chin and batted his eyes at his boyfriend, gently turning up his flirty charm.
Vince bit his lip and gave Stuart an impatient stare. "Don't look at me like that unless you plan to back it up with action. I'm in no mood to be teased."
Stuart licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair at the back of his neck, showing off his curls-sexy, alluring, using all his copping-off gestures from his previous life.
"I'm not playing . . ." Vince warned. "You continue to flirt like that and I'm throwing you down on this floor and having you-with no lube."
Stuart giggled deep in his throat even though Vince's tone was dangerously serious. He leaned back against the fridge and puffed up his chest a little, showing the shape of his body. "I shouldn't be flirting with you anyway," he said.
"No?" Vince asked. "Why is that?"
Shrugging playfully, Stuart said, "I've got a boyfriend. He's right possessive. Jealous type."
Vince blinked then a tiny smile glinted in his eyes. He'd picked up the game and was ready to play.
"Yeah?" he said. "Is he big-a bruiser?"
"Huge," Stuart said. "He could crush you."
Laughing softly, Vince lowered his chin and sauntered forward a few steps. "So, I'm really playing with fire here, then. Flirting with you."
"Absolutely."
"And where is this possessive, jealous bloke, then? He just lets you run loose . . . looking like that?" He stepped right up to Stuart and stood so close that their toes touched-but that was all. Vince's eyes scanned up and down his lover's body-hungry, blatant, lewd.
Stuart could smell Vince's faint aftershave and the clean, salty scent of his skin. "He's out," he said. "With friends. But he's around. Never know when he'll show up."
"Hm," Vince mused. "We'll have to be extra careful then."
Stuart blinked slowly, seductively. The tip of his tongue slipped through his front teeth and he bit it gently. "I've seen you in here before," he said.
"Yeah?"
"I've seen you out there. Dancing." Stuart nodded to an imaginary dance floor.
Vince just smiled at him as they both turned their attention to the softly playing music Vince had put on earlier in the evening. The shuffle mode on the CD player had made its way to the Everything But the Girl disc and the soft strains of "Miss You" filtered through the dimly lit air of the flat.
"You looked good," Stuart continued.
"Thanks." Vince placed his hands on the fridge for support and leaned forward so his nose almost touched Stuart's. "Fancy a dance?"
Stuart pressed in slightly-just enough so he could rub his sensitive nipples on Vince's chest through his shirt. He shivered and licked his lips, a little surprised at how hot and full they felt. "Yeah." Taking Vince's hand, he led him across the room and into the lounge where he turned the music up a bit.
Vince's eyes flitted cautiously to the guest room door momentarily breaking the spell of their game. "We shouldn't be too loud-"
"Shhhhh . . ." Stuart slipped his leg between Vince's and reached for his lover's hands, gently holding them with the pads of his fingers. He pressed his entire body against Vince and sighed into his ear when he felt his blood rush and his cock tingle and lengthen. Vince's erection matched his instantly and they mashed against each other,
swaying softly to the tempo of the music.
Their bellies pressed flush to each other and Vince breathed against Stuart's ear. "So, tell me about this boyfriend of yours," he purred. "He must be something . . . to keep a hot little piece like you happy . . ."
Stuart moaned a little chuckle. "Oohhhh . . . you have no idea . . ."
Rubbing their bodies in time with the beat, Vince nipped that tender earlobe. "Tell me . . . what's so special about him?"
Stuart's fingers reached between their tightly pressed tummies and deftly unzipped his lover's trousers. He pushed the fabric back and guided Vince's stiff cock so it stretched straight up his belly. The thin cotton of his shorts still covered most of the hot, trembling organ and just the swelling, damp head poked over the waistband.
Next, he opened his own trousers and arranged his hungry cock in the same way, leaning forward to rub them against each other. While they danced closely, Stuart whispered to his lover.
"You can't imagine how lovely he is . . ." he said. "He's got the most delectable smell. . ."
"What does he smell like?" Vince's warm, wet tongue tracked up the chord of muscle in Stuart's neck.
"He . . . mmmmm . . . he smells like . . . food . . . like fresh
bread with honey and butter on it . . . and he has these beautiful
blue eyes and this sexy, deep voice. When he kisses me, I can feel
it everywhere . . . Makes my nipples hard and my pucker tingle. And
his tongue . . ."
Vince sunk his teeth into Stuart's neck just below his ear, biting
almost to the point of breaking the skin. Then he sucked and kissed
the same spot, soothing the deliciously burning little teeth marks
with his warm licks. Stuart groaned and leaned against him. He
could feel the hard ridges and swollen edges of Vince's cock as he
rubbed his own against it. Stiff, wet and shuddering, Stuart
imagined their erections sliding against each other, touching the
other's sensitive nerves, fitting together then rubbing apart . . .
caressing each other hungrily.
"What about your boyfriend's tongue . . ?" Vince whispered gruffly,
his hips working their cocks together with brutally slow strokes.
Sighing with pent-up desire, Stuart closed his eyes and murmured his
answer softly. "He gives the best blow jobs ever . . ."
"Does he?" Vince said. "What makes them so good . . ."
Stuart's fingers traced the silky golden hairs on Vince's arms as he
reached around his lover's neck, pulling him closer. He was slightly
breathless with arousal, but he continued speaking. "You know . . .
how . . . when a bloke's sucking your cock . . . and you can
feel . . . everything he does with his tongue? You know how that is?"
"Mm hmm . . ." Vince moaned. His hands slid up Stuart's back,
tickling the sensitive skin there.
"My boyfriend is so good . . . I can feel him tasting me . . . feel
his throat working and his tongue . . . teasing every inch of my cock
when it's in his mouth. He knows all the things I like . . . all the
places to suck me hard and all the places to tease me . . . he rubs
my balls and slips his pinkie up my hole . . . oh, you know what's
the best?"
"Tell me . . ." Vince urged.
"He . . . tickles my thighs after I come . . . can you imagine how
fanTAstic that feels? It's sooooo much sensation . . . I'm so alive
and sensitive all over and he just . . . kneads my thighs really
softly with his fingers while I'm still tingling from coming . . .
mmmmmm . . . it's so lovely . . ."
Vince chuckled deeply, almost wickedly against Stuart's ear, clearly
pleased that his technique had made such a sweet impression on his
lover.
Stuart hugged him close, wiggling his hips like a cat in heat. His
cock was dripping and throbbing, leaking warm clear fluid all over
the skin of his belly. He was having more and more trouble
breathing. Stuart could feel his heart pumping hard and quick in his
chest.
Vince's hands cupped Stuart's buttocks and squeezed with gentle but
possessive pressure and they still danced to that haunting beat.
Then his lips were brushing Stuart's earlobe again. "How else does
your boyfriend please you . . ?" he whispered.
Stuart leaned back so he could look in Vince's eyes. He felt dizzy
and weak and burning hot and every nerve in his body seemed to lead
directly to the tip of his cock. Every breath made his balls
quiver. "I have to come," he said.
"Wait . . ." Vince said, staring right into his eyes. He held onto
Stuart's waist firmly, securing him in case his knees went
out. "Just wait . . . tell me more about this fantastic lover of
yours . . ."
Smiling distractedly, Stuart licked his lips and wrapped his arms
around Vince's neck again, hanging on. "He's . . . so sensual. You
wouldn't believe. He loves to touch my hair . . ."
Vince's fingers stroked up Stuart's spine under his shirt and reached
up through the collar until he found those ringlets at Stuart's
neck. Tugging them with lustful force, Vince trembled against him,
moaning softly and kissing his exposed shoulder.
Stuart ground his cock against Vince's wantonly, quickening his pace
and turning Vince's head so they could kiss. He plunged his tongue
into Vince's mouth, tasting him, licking everywhere and chewing his
lips. That was the first kiss they'd had in a week and it was so
sweet and deliberate and hot that Stuart was coming before he even
realized it. He moaned raggedly, shivering with pleasure, the sound
of his groans hollow and primal as they filled Vince's mouth. Then
he felt his lover shaking against him, pumping his hot cock up and
down and wetting their tummies with thick, milky semen.
Even after the contractions had subsided, they still rubbed gently
against each other and that kiss never stopped. They devoured each
other's mouths, eyes closed, trancing out on the sensation of feeding
on each other. Sometime during that unending kiss, they had moved to
a place where they were lying down, but Stuart could not have cared
less where they were. All he knew was that it was soft under them
and they were tangled in a mess of warm, caressing limbs and suckling
kisses. Stuart never opened his eyes as they undressed each other
and it wasn't until his skin was bare that he became vaguely aware
that they were on the couch. The cool leather touching his heated
body increased all the lovely pleasureful sensations coursing through
him.
They were all fingers and tongues and lips and kisses and bites and
legs and nipples and cocks and thighs and warm breath and soft
fluttering eyelashes and sweat and moans and slippery, natural
lubricant. In a haze of lust, Stuart rolled Vince over and grabbed
his hips, lifting his lover's strong legs up and hooking them over
his own shoulders. His hand went instinctively to the ceramic box
they kept on the windowsill and reached inside it for the tube of
lube there. His fingers barely registered the condom packets-the
same ones Vince had tossed down the front stairs at him the night
he'd run off and shagged Brian Kinney. No-no time to think of that
now.
Stuart's fingers were slick and they stroked Vince's willing opening,
loving the velvety feel of that hot tunnel of flesh. His cock slid
up inside his lover's body almost on its own and then they were
fucking slow and deep, both of them biting each other and squeezing
each other's arms desperately. Coming . . . spasms of pleasure again
washing over him . . . so much pleasure. Stuart's throat was dry but
he was wet everywhere else. Sweat, spunk, lube, saliva. He licked
his lips and slipped his cock out of that luscious heated glove and
then he rolled onto his back and pulled Vince on top of him.
Kisses, more kisses and the fine taste of sweat on his lover's lips.
Vince dove down between his legs and speared his anus with his
tongue, plunging it in and out and in and out relentlessly, working
up the heat again, driving that wild train of desire to make Stuart's
cock hard again.
Their bodies were both slippery and Vince's rock hard cock slipped up
inside him with graceful ease. For a moment, Stuart gripped his
lover's thighs and tightened in a last ditch effort of defensiveness,
and then . . . all his resistance melted away. Vince's cock grazed
his prostate inside and Stuart closed his eyes, groaning. He let his
head back on the couch and felt like he was floating in hot water.
The sensations all over his body were being governed by that swollen,
itchy gland inside him and he urged toward Vince's cock with all his
strength.
Strong fingers squeezing his hips and teeth gnawing his neck, chest,
nipples, belly, the insides of his thighs, the back of his knees.
Stuart's legs were in the air and he was almost upside down on the
couch but he felt weightless with pleasure.
Vince slipped his cock out and buried his face again in the hot crack
of Stuart's ass, biting at that sensitive ring of flesh like a fierce
but merciful animal. Stuart heard himself begging to be fucked again
and he had a brief glimpse of his lover's pale blue eyes watching
him, staring at him between his legs, clocking the degree of his lust
and willing him further.
And then that glorious, thick cock was sliding into him again,
impaling him and riding up inside him, its hard tip bumping his
aching prostate over and over until he was screaming-coming so hard
he almost passed out and instantly he looked toward the next time he
could feel that ecstasy again.
His head was muddy and filled with hazy, dreamy voices and he knew he
was falling asleep. The last thing Stuart felt was the soft tickle
of the chenille throw blanket coming down over Vince's back, the
little fringe on the edge of it stroking his legs. And then there
was nothing but the sweet press of Vince's body against his and
delicious, hypnotic blackness.
* * *
Kate:
I'm dead asleep-I mean DEAD, like an algae covered stone at the
bottom of a coy pond-as soon as I lay down in that nice bed. Then,
at 4:30 in the flippin' morning, my eyes pop open. I am instantly
aware that I have no hope whatsoever of getting back to sleep that
night. I sigh, get up to go pee, then I just sit there on the bed
for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do.
I finished my book on the plane coming over and didn't get a chance
to pick up another one, so I don't have anything to read. I seem to
recall that the boys had a lot of books in their livingroom so I open
the door as quietly as I can and creep out across that polished wood
floor.
Oh my God-how cute are THEY? All tangled around each other, naked on
the couch with that little chenille throw over them. Most of their
skin is still exposed and I figure that thin blanket can't be keeping
them warm enough. I go up to their bed and pull off the fluffy white
comforter as quietly as I can, winding it around my arms so it
doesn't drag. Carrying it down to the livingroom, I sneak up on them
with it and carefully, carefully lay it over their sleeping bodies.
Stuart is on his back and Vince is lying on top of him, between his
legs. They're both knocked out asleep and Vince is snoring very
quietly. It's not even a snore really, just a cute little rattle in
his deep breathing. Probably cuz of the position he's in. They look
so adorable together I could stand there all night watching them.
But people always wake up when they sense they're being looked at,
and I don't want to wake them up. Not when they've waited so long to
make love.
I grab a few books out of the shelf-the new Nick Hornby novel, which
I'm thrilled to find, and a book about travel in Denmark. (When did
Stuey go to Denmark?) Then I sneak back to my room.
Too bad I slept through all the histrionics they must have caused out
there. Would have been fun to listen.
* * *
Vince:
Stirring a few hours later, the first thing his senses recognized was
the warm scent and the soft down of hairs on Stuart's belly. He kept
his eyes closed and turned his head slightly so he could kiss that
silky skin, breathing in deeply as he did.
Stuart breathed a moaned as he woke up, shifting under his lover on
the couch and tugging at the comforter to pull it over them a bit
more. It was just a little chilly in the room and they snuggled
together, situating themselves in a slightly different position
before they fell asleep again.
The smell of toast and eggs cooking woke him again about two hours
later and Vince finally opened his eyes and sat up. He felt a little
tension in his muscles from sleeping in that position but otherwise,
he felt wonderful. Rested and relaxed and very well shagged.
Through the glass walls flanking the lounge, he could see Kate moving
around in the kitchen. He reached under the comforter and gently
tugged the chenille throw out from under Stuart's hip. Standing up
carefully, he covered his sleeping lover with the comforter and
wrapped the throw blanket around his waist so he could walk to the
bedroom without flashing their guest.
"Hiya," he said, blushing sheepishly as he walked passed the kitchen.
"Goodmorning," Kate smiled at him brightly. "You are so cute, Vince,
I could just smack you. I bet you're hungry." She winked at him
playfully.
"Yeah. Starved. Let me just . . . put on some clothes. Be right
down." He stepped up to the bedroom and went to the wardrobe to grab
out some sweats and a t-shirt. Dressing quickly, he then went into
the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Although his
cheeks were covered in his amber colored twenty-four-hour-stubble, he
decided to shave later. At that moment, his belly was rumbling from
the smell of the cooking food and he hurried back down to the kitchen
for some breakfast.
Stuart was shuffling sleepily across the room wrapped in the
comforter, his curls beautifully disarrayed. He rubbed his eyes with
his fingers like a little kid and Vince walked up and folded him in
his arms.
"You are so bloody cute . . ." he whispered.
Stuart smiled and kissed him, brushing their noses together. "I'm so
stiff. What did you do to me?"
"I think we just fell asleep in a strange position. Where does it
hurt?"
"My shoulders . . . right in the middle." He turned around and
dropped the comforter off his upper body, wiggling his shoulder
blades. "Rub me there?"
Grinning at the salacious sound of the request, Vince rubbed his
lover's back feeling the tight knots under the skin. He couldn't
really reach the right spot with both of them standing, though. "You
have to lie down so I can get at them. Let's eat something first,
all right? I'm starving." He kissed Stuart's neck, then his naked
shoulder, then his lips, lingering there for a moment.
"Come and eat before everything gets cold," Kate said. She was
dressed in blue plaid cotton pajama bottoms and a ribbed white t-
shirt that was a bit see-through. Vince noted that her small breasts
had a nice, sculpted shape-for a woman, that is.
As she spooned scrambled eggs out of a skillet onto plates that were
already adorned with fresh toast, Vince climbed onto a barstool.
"You really didn't have to cook," he said. "But I'm very glad you
did."
"I love cooking," she said. "My husband travels so much I don't get
to do it very often. AND you guys have a fabulous kitchen. It would
be my pleasure to make you meals while I'm here. Does anyone want
cheese? I found this lovely English cheddar in your fridge and I'm
having some."
"It's been there since Christmas," Stuart said, flatly.
Vince scowled at him, knowing he'd only bought that cheese the day
before. Kate must have known he was joking as well because she took
the block of cheddar out of the fridge and set it on the cutting
board for slicing.
"Oh," she said. "Mold is beneficial to your immune system. Listen,
I'm going into the office today in case you want to come with. I'm
having lunch with Burton and then meeting the team working on the Gap
campaign."
"I'll drop you there, but I don't want to come in," Stuart said,
sitting on a barstool next to Vince and draping the comforter over
his naked lap. "If I go in there, they'll make me work. I'm on
vacation `cos you're here. And did you tell me you got the Gap
campaign?"
"I don't have it, but Burton wanted me to meet with the team and
share some of my ideas from the Macy's thing I did last October. He
figured since he was buying me lunch, he'd make me sing for my
supper. Sure you don't want to come? I'll make him feed you, too-
and buy you some nice wine to drink."
"I have lunch with him almost every day," Stuart said. "Wanna ride,
though?"
"I'll get a cab," she said. "You stay here and play with your
boyfriend." Kate set her own plate on the counter beside Stuart then
walked around to take a seat.
"I'll have to go into work later," Vince said. "I'm on half a day
again."
"Have they cut your hours?" Stuart asked.
"Not them," he answered, taking a bite of eggs. "I asked for shorter
work weeks for a bit. You know, with all the plans and everything."
He spread some butter on his toast, waiting for his boyfriend's
response.
"You know you don't have to work at all," Stuart said which was not
the response Vince had expected. "If you want to take a leave of
absence or whatever, just do it. We've got plenty of money."
Vince lowered his eyes and grinned sexily. "What would I do all day?"
"Whatever you want." Stuart leaned forward and gave him a long, deep
kiss, licking at his bottom lip before moving back. "That's the
point, right? Lie about and relax."
"Shop," Kate offered.
"Yeah, but you can only shop for so long and then you get bored,"
Vince said.
"Speak for yourself," Stuart and Kate said together and they all
laughed.
"Careful what you say about shopping! That's sacrilege!" she
said. "That's what we should do. Come pick me up after I meet with
the Gap kids and take me shopping. Vince, when do you have to
work `til?"
"Nine."
"Okay, then. Stuart can come and play with me and go shopping and
then we'll meet you for drinks when you get off work. Sound good?"
"Fine," Vince said. "We can meet at that martini bar in your office
building if you like. Where you went with Hazel that night."
"She told you we went there?" Stuart asked, his tone slightly
annoyed.
"We had days, Stuart. We talked about all sorts. She wouldn't let
me out of her sight thinking I might slip away and come home." He
batted his eyes with saccharine sweetness.
Stuart finished his eggs then grabbed a slice of toast and slid off
the barstool, gathering the comforter around him. "I don't want to
talk about that," he said, crisply. He walked over and kissed Kate's
cheek. "Thanks for breakfast, luv. I'm going for a shower. Tell
Burton I miss him."
She nodded. "I'll certainly do that and you're very welcome."
Stuart went up the steps and tossed the comforter on the bed as he
disappeared into the bathroom.
Vince finished his eggs then reached for the strawberry jam for his
last piece of toast. "Are you sure you don't want a ride to the
office?" he asked her.
"Nah. I'm fine getting a cab, really." Kate picked at her toast
with her fingers, watching him out of the corner of her
eye. "Everything smooth again with you and the cute Irish boy?"
He shrugged. "Dunno, really. Haven't talked to him since we woke up
this morning, so there's no way to tell."
"He's kissin' on you a lot," she smirked. "That's a good sign.
Certainly an improvement from last night."
"Yeah. Well . . . he was quite upset with me, as I'm sure you heard
all about."
"I did," Kate said, then she set her uneaten toast on her plate and
looked at him directly. "Vince, does it bother you that he tells me
so much stuff about your relationship?"
"Not at all," he said, meaning it. "I'm actually quite glad he's got
you to talk things through with. He's . . . never really been very
open. Stuart's not shy or anything, he's just . . . quiet."
"Keeps to himself," she offered. "Or so he tries to around me. I'm
having none of that." She smiled and got up, collecting their plates
and bringing them to the sink.
"Let ME do the washing up," Vince insisted, walking around the
counter to the kitchen. "You go get showered for your lunch." He
stood in front of the sink and admonished her with his index finger.
She leaned forward and put a kiss on that finger then she went off
toward her room. "Thanks, hon. See ya later."
"See ya. Oh, the number for the taxi company is on speed dial on the
phone. Number 4. I'll write down our taxi account number so you can
give it to the operator when you ring."
"Just tell me it," she said. "I have a great memory for numbers."
"I'll write it down, as well," Vince said, smiling. "It's under both
our names-Jones and Tyler-and it's number 42601. All right?"
"42601, Jones and Tyler," she repeated. "Got it. Thanks." Kate
went off into her room and Vince started the dishes.
* * *
Stuart:
He ran a comb through his wet hair, parted it slightly then arranged
his curls to his liking. Standing in front of the bathroom sink with
a towel around his waist, he turned on the water and filled the basin
for his shave.
Vince came up to the doorway and leaned there. "You've already
washed," he said, disappointed.
Stuart smiled at him. "We can have a bath tonight if you want.
Haven't had my hair washed in a week." He took out his shave cream
and squirted some into his hand, rubbing the foam into a soft,
fragrant lather.
Vince stepped up behind him and rested his hands on the counter,
looking at his lover in the reflection. "That was lovely last
night," he said, quietly.
Stuart spread the lather on his face, his eyes sparkling with his
little smile. "It was sort of . . . spiritual. Like being in a
trance."
"Yeah," Vince agreed. He stepped closer until their bodies were
touching everywhere then he parked his chin on Stuart's
shoulder. "Can I shave you?"
Rinsing his hands, Stuart reached for the razor on the counter and
handed it back to Vince. "You've never asked to do that before," he
said.
Vince only smiled, turning Stuart around so they were standing side
by side against the counter. He started with a long stroke up the
center of Stuart's throat, then rinsed the razor. He did this again
and again until his lover's neck was smooth, then he gently arched
the blade up over Stuart's angular jaw line, taking care not to nick
the skin.
Stuart rested his hands on Vince's hips and closed his eyes,
sighing. The sensation of being shaved was lovely and extremely
intimate. He was surprised by how much he was enjoying it. One of
the blokes he shagged a few years ago once asked if he could shave
Stuart's balls, but he'd said no. Regardless of how titillating the
idea was, Stuart hardly knew that man and didn't think he could relax
enough to enjoy being shaved by him. But this . . . was something
else.
"What are you thinking about?" Vince said, the razor sliding over
Stuart's right cheek.
"This bloke once . . . wanted to shave my balls."
"And?"
"I . . . couldn't do it. I didn't trust him."
Vince rinsed the razor again then continued on Stuart's left
cheek. "So, are we all right, then? You let me kiss you, you let me
shag you. And now . . . you're letting me scrape your throat with a
sharp instrument."
Stuart opened his eyes and laughed softly. "I suppose that means
we're all right, then." He looked at Vince closely, really going
into those lovely pale blue eyes. "We should set a date, you know.
So we can announce it Saturday."
"Right. Yeah. Sounds good. When do you want to do it?" Vince
tilted Stuart's chin up a bit and continued shaving his face.
"How about . . . two months? End of May?"
"June wedding?" Vince offered, cheekily.
"That's fine, too. Whenever you want."
"It might depend on your dad, you know. Whether or not he'll let us
use his garden."
"He will," Stuart said. "If you ask him. I'm serious about that,
Vince. He likes you more."
"He doesn't, you twat. You're just not very close is all. But he
loves you, Stuart."
Sighing, Stuart tried to release that little bit of tension he always
felt when they discussed his parents. "I wish Marie had a bigger
house. We could do it at hers."
"How many people are we inviting?" Vince asked, wetting a hand towel
with warm water and wiping the residue of the foam off Stuart's skin.
"Well . . ." Stuart said, thinking. "Of course we'll have to do a
list, but . . . everyone that's coming to the party, which is
thirty. And then . . . the work people and the extended family."
"Let's keep it small, yeah?" Vince said quietly, his eyes clouding a
bit. "I don't want to invite anyone from the store."
"Not even Marcie and Rosalie? I thought they were your friends."
"Well . . . they are. Sort of. I dunno, maybe I'll invite them,
but . . . probably not." He leaned on the counter and dried his
hands with the towel, his brow knitting with a crowd of conflicting
thoughts. "I don't think I want to share something so personal with
them is all."
Stuart leaned beside him, pressing his naked arm against Vince's.
They looked at each other in the quiet bathroom and held each other's
gaze for a long time-each having their own thoughts and knowing the
other could see them plainly.
"Scared?" Stuart said softly.
Vince smiled in that beautiful forgiving way of his. "Not anymore."
This answer surprised Stuart and he felt himself blushing a
bit. "Really? You're really not scared anymore? I would think that
after . . ."
Vince pressed his fingers to Stuart's lips to silence him. "That's
another reason why I had to spend those days away. I had to know I
could leave before I made the commitment to stay. Now that I know I
can . . . I'm not afraid of anything. What's left to fear, really?
Other than you dyin' on me-which you'd best not do. If you die, I'll
kill you."
Stuart laughed and kissed those warm fingers against his lips. They
looked at each other for another long stretch of moments, blue eyes
on blue eyes, just watching and seeing and searching.
"Do you know what I was going to say?" Stuart said.
"When?"
"My proposal that you never let me make."
Vince smiled, looking down as his cheeks flushed pink. "I figured
you'd tell me when you wanted to."
"I wanted to tell you then, you twat!" Stuart nudged him with his
arm playfully. "I'll never forgive you for that, Vince."
"Yes you will." Vince laced his fingers gently over Stuart's that
were wrapped on the edge of the counter beside his. "Tell me."
Stuart took in a thoughtful breath, smiling to himself. "You know
that little balcony off the dining room there at the hotel?"
"Yeah?"
"Well . . . I was going to take you out there after dinner on
Saturday night with our brandies and look at the stars. You know how
Cassiopeia is right on the horizon this time of year?"
"Yeah . . . just to the South."
"Right. Well, I was going to point out that constellation and have
you make a wish on it-a wish that you wouldn't tell me just then.
And then I was going to say this to you, right in your ear." Stuart
looked at his lover for a moment, then he leaned in to whisper
against Vince's earlobe.
Just like he'd planned, Stuart spoke the words softly in his family's
native tongue . . . two lines of poetry that he knew sounded musical
and exotic . . . ancient in their tone and timbre. After, he looked
in Vince's eyes and saw just what he'd expected to see there-wonder,
love, enchantment.
"Can I hear it again?" Vince said, leaning in.
Stuart whispered those soft Irish lines to him once more.
"It's so lovely," Vince said. "What does it mean?"
"I'll tell you later," Stuart said. "That day-that moment. And I
was going to ask you to wait to tell me your wish until that moment.
The day we stood up together and took those huge commitment
vows . . . that have really always been there."
Vince's eyes filled up and he looked away, shyly. "I don't think I
can wait to know."
"You can wait. It's just slush, anyway. But I think you'll love
it." He kissed Vince softly, brushing their noses together. "Close
your eyes, luv."
Vince closed his eyes and one small tear slid down his cheek. Stuart
kissed it and licked the salt on his lips. Against Vince's ear, he
whispered again.
"Picture the wide, black night over Loch Ness . . . see Cassiopeia
there in the Southern sky and make a wish . . ." He kissed Vince's
cheek and waited while his lover carried out the request.
"I can't think of anything," he said after a moment. "I've . . . I
can't think of anything else I want."
Stuart smiled at him and he felt his own eyes well up. "Christ,
Vince. The things you say."
Vince laughed and his eyes glistened with moisture. "It's just
that . . . I've got everything already. I don't know what to wish-"
"I know what you meant. You can think of your wish later, then.
Just don't tell me until that day, all right."
He nodded and they looked at each other again for a long time.
"Were you going to get on one knee?" Vince asked.
"Yeah. I was," Stuart said and he had been planning to do just
that. "You would have died, it was going to be so romantic.
But . . . you had to be cheeky and beat me to it."
Laughing, Vince shook his head and moved away from the counter.
Turning back to look at his lover, he offered that familiar coy
expression that Stuart had adored for seventeen years. "The second
of June is a Saturday. That might be nice, yeah?"
Stuart nodded. "Yeah. The second of June, then. You'll speak to my
father at the party, right?"
"Only if you're standing there with me. You have to at least do
that."
Pursing his lips, Stuart shook his head slightly. "You'll have
better luck without me."
"That's mad. Promise you'll be there and I'll promise to ask him."
Rolling his eyes, Stuart stepped forward and took Vince's face in his
hands gently, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I promise," he said.
Vince smiled at him with his lovely, sad blue eyes.
Stuart:
He was almost finished with his first martini when Kate swooped into
the bar on the bottom floor of Thrive's building. He and Vince had
been in the bedroom fooling around with the door closed and the
blinds drawn when she left that morning, so he hadn't seen what she
was wearing. Kate was resplendent in a fitted hunter green trouser
suit with a charcoal gray cashmere scarf draped around her
shoulders. Her red hair was down long and straight and her black
coat billowed around her in the little burst of wind as she stepped
through the revolving door entrance.
She saw him immediately and her pretty face broke into a smile.
Striding across the room, she kissed his cheeks as he stood up to
greet her and then she hung her coat on the back of her chair.
"God, I'm sorry it took me so long to get down here. I thought those
Gap freaks were never gonna let me go. And I think Burton's got a
crush on me. Kept petting my hand at lunch."
"Too much information," he groaned.
She snickered. "So, what's the deal, do we go to the bar or is
there a server?"
"We go to the bar," he told her. "Sit. What do you want?"
"Cosmo-with Stoli if they have it. Lots of lime. Thanks, bunny."
She sat down and peeled off her black kid gloves, then she took out
her mobile and started pressing numbers.
Stuart went to the bar and ordered, glancing around at the mid-
afternoon patrons as he waited for the barman to mix their
cocktails. He recognized some of the people from passing them in the
halls upstairs, or riding in the lift with them, but he didn't know
anyone by name. Recalling the night he was in there with Hazel when
Vince was still trying to decide if he wanted to take the plunge and
be his boyfriend, Stuart frowned slightly. The thought of Hazel was
still stinging a bit after that emotional debacle last week. He knew
he had to talk to her-that they had to talk to each other-but he just
wasn't ready for her all-knowing, unflinching gaze. Maybe he could
face her after a few drinks at the party Saturday.
When he returned to the table, Kate was chattering away on her mobile
and he could tell by her quick, slang-laden diction that she was
speaking to a fellow American.
" . . . and they just kept GAPING at me like I was the end-all and
had every single fucking answer in the advertising lexicon. It was
too funny. I swear, if you hadn't given me those links while I was
doing the Macy's thing, I would never have done so well on that job.
You should be out here herding these sheep, not me." She smiled at
him as he set down her drink, leaning forward to sip it. "I KNOW!"
she continued into the phone. "Can I just say? That ass was so
looking for you that day. He was all over my email and all over my
cell . . . yeah, like I'm gonna . . . right! Dick. WhatEVer. I
know. Okay, punkin', I gotta go. Stuey and I are going shopping.
Want anything? Yeah . . . he's right here. Hang on." She held the
phone out. "That creep, Brian," she told him.
Stuart shook his head, resting his chin in his hand. "Can't," he
said.
Kate blinked. "He just wants to say hi."
"I can't. Not without Vince. Tell him we'll speak to him later."
"But-he-"
Stuart raised his eyebrows and gave her a look that meant business.
Kate put the phone back to her ear. "Apparently the rules specify
that neither of the betrothed Brit boys can speak to you unless they
are both present. Were you aware of that stipulation?" She listened
to his answer and then rolled her eyes. "Ass. I told you Vince
wasn't here. You suck, Kinney. You were just trying to see if
Stuart would talk to you. I'm hanging up now. Goodbye." She did
just that, ending the call and dropping her phone back into her
handbag.
Leaning forward to pick up her drink, Kate sighed. "He's such a
dick. I don't why I talk to him."
Stuart breathed a laugh, sipping his own drink and feeling his heart
pounding like mad in his chest.
* * *
Margaret:
"Is this jasmine tea?" she asked as she watched Romey finish changing
Alfred's nappies that afternoon. "It's so mild."
"Yes, it's from a client of Lisa's in Hong Kong. They sent her a
lovely box of teas at Christmas and we're still making our way
through it." She fixed the little boy's clothing then set him on his
way back to playing with the enormous pile of plastic building blocks
littering the lounge floor. The blocks had been a Christmas gift
from Margaret and Clive and they remained young Alfred's favor
te toy.
Margaret watched her grandson playing, marveling at the way the
golden late afternoon sunlight danced in the shimmering dark
highlights of his curly hair. Stuart's hair. Some of the soft curls
were so dark they were almost blue and some of them were shot through
with light brown, making them appear to glow. He had his father's
eyes, as well, piercing and deep cobalt. Long, black lashes as only
children can grow.
Romey was smiling at her as she watched the child and Margaret
blushed.
"I know," she said, shyly. "I stare at him like he's the first child
on Earth."
"I do that, as well," Romey said. "And to me, he IS the first child
on Earth. Would you like some cake? I found this fantastic recipe
on the Internet and it's actually very good."
Margaret smiled. "Sounds nice."
Romey got up and went into the kitchen, taking the small cake plates
out of the cupboard. "You are coming on Saturday, right?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," Margaret said, reaching down to touch Alfred's hair
gently. It felt like fine silk. "We'll be there. Although I'm not
quite certain what to expect. Can't recall the last time Stuart
invited us to his house for any reason."
Romey brought the plates to the lounge and handed one to Margaret.
The cake smelled wonderful-sweet and lemony-and it had a sugary pink
icing on it.
"Haven't they told you?" she asked as she placed a fork on the edge
of Margaret's plate.
"No," she said. "Stuart hasn't told us anything. He just rang and
said he wanted us to come to a party at his flat on Saturday the
31st. He said it would be a bit fancy but not formal. Said he was
hiring a caterer and it would be a nice evening."
Romey smiled sweetly as she sat in a chair across the room with her
own plate resting in her lap. "Well, the caterer is a good friend of
mine so I'm sure the food will be lovely," she said, clearly trying
to divert the subject.
"Romey," Margaret said, seriously. "Please tell me if there's
something going on that will give my husband a heart attack."
"Oh, no," she said. "Nothing at all like that. I just thought . . .
well . . . apparently, they want it to be a surprise so I wouldn't
want to ruin it for them. Please, just forget I said anything."
Margaret took a bite of her cake and tried to remain calm. Her
imagination shifted into overdrive as soon as Romey started
sidestepping the reason for the party on Saturday. "I'll be shocked,
won't I?" she said, a bit miserably.
"I really don't think so," Romey said, genuinely. "It shouldn't
surprise you at all. Now don't worry about it. Just look forward to
it as a nice evening out with your husband and your children. Marie
and the boys will be there, too."
"Yes," Margaret said. "I know. Marie won't tell me anything,
either. Says she doesn't know why they're having a party."
"It's likely she doesn't," Romey said. "Stuart isn't exactly an icon
of communication. He probably just rang her and invited her without
any explanation-just like he did you and Clive."
Margaret shook her head. "Can't recall the last time my son wanted
to have his family around him. I just hope it isn't something bad."
"It isn't," Romey said, soothingly. "Really. Just relax and look
forward to it. Should be a lovely evening."
Margaret smiled weakly, taking another bite of the sweet, delicious
cake.
* * *
Kate:
"I brought you guys a prezzie," I say as we're standing out in front
of a shoe shop window in the city center. I'm swooning over this
pair of Kenneth Cole's that I think I might have to kill for. "But I
want to get you something more personal."
Stuart stands next to me in his leather jacket over a cranberry
turtleneck and black wool trousers. His nose is a little red from
the cool air and that's the first time I notice that faint splatter
of freckles on his cheeks.
"You didn't have to get us a present," he says, eyeing the Cole's
scrupulously. "How the fuck do you walk in those?"
"It's something only chicks and drag queens can do. It's
unexplainable. Of course I had to get you a gift-you guys are
ENGAGED for fuck's sake! But, I'd love to get you something for your
house. Or something personal for each of you."
"Get Vince a fish," Stuart says. "One if his fish died last week and
he's a wreck about it. Colin."
"He named his fish Colin?" I ask.
"Yeah, it's after someone . . . one of the blokes that played Dr.
Who. Colin Baker. All the fish are named after the actors that
played the Doctor at different times. There are seven in all."
"Am I gonna get smacked if I ask what's a Dr. Who?"
Stuart groans and rolls his pretty blue eyes. "Bloody Yanks. It's a
cheap science fiction show that has a huge cult following. Never
mind. Just get him a fish."
"Okay!" I say, elated and starting to love the idea. "Where can I
get one?"
"There's a pet shop two streets over. We'll pass it on the way
back. Are you getting those bloody ankle-breakers or what?"
"Let's go see if they like me," I say, hooking his arm and hauling
him into the shop.
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