DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | Well Shagged and Sassy
Summary: The week long wait begins and neither of the boys are holding up too well under the pressure.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Cameron's on his way, don't worry. In the second part of this story, he'll show himself (but not yet--can you tell I'm not keen on writing that character?).
Spoilers: QAF 1 - set during Ep. 5
Catching up on some paperwork left over from his early departure on Friday, Stuart sat at his desk at home with the windows open. It was still raining and the acrid, metallic scent of the wet city filtered into the flat. He liked the swoosh of the cars going by on the slick street. The sound was strangely comforting. It was the sound of movement, transporting from one place to the next. It calmed his nerves as he sat there waiting.
The waiting would be the worst. He knew it. Stuart hated to wait. Seven days including the one he was in before he and Vince could resolve this matter and move on. And it was barely 10:30 in the morning that Sunday. The whole day stretched out ahead of him.
Stuart sighed, sipping his second cup of coffee.
* * *
Vince:
No big surprise, Vince found himself at Hazel's that Sunday morning. He had arrived just as Nathan was leaving and the two of them exchanged a terse greeting on the porch.
"Hiya," Vince offered.
"Oh, hiya." Nathan stiffened at the sight of him and his eyes darted around, obviously looking for Stuart. "On your own?"
"Yeah," Vince said, his tone much more clipped than it needed to be. Nathan Maloney was the last person on the planet he wanted to be dealing with at that moment.
"Right, then," Nathan said, forcing a smile. "I'm off. See ya." He trotted down the front steps and headed off up the street.
"Twat," Vince muttered. He pushed open the door and went inside, the smell of fresh toast filling the air of the narrow entryway. "Mum?" he called, making his way into the kitchen.
"Oh, hello, love." Hazel stood up from the small table and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Have you had breakfast? The kettle's hot."
"Cuppa tea would be lovely, thanks. Where's the kid gone?" Vince sat down at the table, shifting some newspapers to make a clear space. He noticed that Hazel had been working a crossword puzzle and she was nearly done with it.
"He's gone `round Donna's. They're going to the cinema." She brought the cup to the table, then sat down again, looking at her son with raised eyebrows. "Any developments with the Irish boy?"
"Yeah," he said. "He's asked me to be his boyfriend."
* * *
Stuart:
Romey opened the door dressed in a fluffy white robe. Her short dark hair was wet and her face scrubbed clean. She smiled at him as she stood aside to let him in.
Stuart kissed her cheek, then kissed her forehead, affectionately. "How are you, mummy?"
"Fine. You're in a good mood." Romey shut the door and lead him into the kitchen. The baby was fussing in a bassinet on the table in front of the couch. Rain pelted the large wall of windows that faced the kitchen and the trees in the garden outside swayed fiercely.
"Quite a day," she said, putting the kettle on.
Stuart took off his coat then reached for the baby, holding the tiny body against his chest.
"Watch his head," Romey reminded.
Stuart placed his hand on the back of Alfred's head, then walked over to a chair and sat down carefully.
"Something going on?" she asked as she spooned loose tea into a small ceramic pot.
He shook his head. He hadn't come there to talk with Romey, he just wanted to be with the baby for a bit. But he knew she could tell he had something on his mind. They'd known each other too long for him to hide that.
"Where's your better half?" she said, smirking.
"Funny."
Romey laughed a little, walking over to sit in a chair beside him. She stroked one of Alfred's tiny hands with her finger. "I hope he gets your hair," she mused.
"That's all you wanted from me, eh?"
"Well, Stuart, it is your best feature." She winked at him, teasingly. "What's with you today?"
"Nothing. Where's Lisa?"
"She had to go into the office for some overseas conference call. It's tomorrow afternoon in Japan or something so they had a meeting."
"Mm." Stuart felt a bit more inclined to talk now that he knew that fucking Lisa wasn't around to bother him. He bent his legs and propped the baby's back up against them, smiling into the child's eyes. "Can he see, yet?"
"Everything's still a bit of a blur to him, but I'm sure he senses that you're his father. Whatever that chemical reaction is. You're communicating that in your touch. It's very complicated, all this human development stuff." She stood up again as the kettle started to hiss and rock on the stove. Stuart watched her pouring the water into the small pot, steam rising up to the ceiling of the kitchen. "What do you think of me and Vince together?" he said.
Romey looked at him with a surprised smile. "You mean, together as a couple?"
"Yeah."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Stuart, I can't imagine you being anyone's boyfriend, to be honest. But, if there was someone fit for the job, it's certainly Vince. Why are you asking? Has he finally given you an ultimatum? Shag me, you handsome bastard, or piss off for good?" She brought the pot to the table along with two delicate cups that matched it.
Stuart didn't respond. She was taking the piss, as usual, and he didn't want to encourage her.
"Well?" she pressed. "Has he threatened to leave if you don't consummate this sixteen year courtship?"
"No," Stuart said, wearily, completely sorry he'd mentioned it at all. "We were just thinking of maybe giving it a go."
"Who was thinking of it? You or Vince?"
"Didn't I just say `we'?"
Romey stared at him, bewildered. "My God. You're serious."
Stuart concentrated on Alfred but didn't say anything. Romey reached over and felt his forehead with her hand.
"What?" he said, irritated, pulling away.
"I'm just wondering if you have anything contagious that Alfred might catch." She smiled at him, teasing but sweet. "Have you really talked about it--you and Vince?"
"'Course we have. It was my idea. He's taking some time to decide about it."
She raised her eyebrows. "Really? He didn't just say yes right away? Interesting. I would have thought--"
Stuart was finished with the conversation. Never should have started it in the first place. He stood up and carried the baby back over to the bassinet, placing the small boy carefully inside it. He tucked the little blanket around Alfred's chubby legs then grabbed his coat.
"Stuart," she said, patiently. "Don't run off. I don't mean to be derisive, I'm just in shock. Sit down. We'll talk it out."
"Didn't come to talk," he said, crisply. He took out his keys and kissed her on top of her head. "I just came to see the baby for a minute. I'll take him out when the weather improves." He turned and started down the hall to the door, shaking his head as he heard Romey calling after him. That would teach him to bare his soul to a lesbian.
* * *
Vince:
The rain had broken for a bit and Hazel and Vince were standing out on the front porch getting some air. He blew smoke up at the overcast sky, distractedly watching a small flock of black birds circling his mother's block.
"Can you wait seven days to decide?" she asked, taking the cigarette from his hand and hitting from it.
Vince shrugged. "That was the deal. I'm the one that asked for the time."
"What if he changes his mind? It's a whole week, Vinnie. Give Stuart Alan Jones enough rope he won't just hang himself, but everyone standing within his reach! You know he wants you to decide. He wants you to sort it for the both of you."
"Well," Vince said, unhappily. "I won't do that. I want him to think about it. I won't have him making this decision on a whim. Be too bloody painful when he starts regretting it."
"Or when you do." Hazel looked at her son for a long time. "Vince, he said it himself that he was afraid for you. He's right! In his own inane way, he was trying to protect you."
"Yeah," Vince said, taking the cigarette back.
"Do you want my advice?" she asked.
He smiled at her. "Why else would I be here?"
She squinted, shaking her head a bit. "I don't think what I would say is really what you want to hear from me. Well, it might be--I could be totally off base about your opinions of your old mum."
"Just tell me," he said. He knew what she would say, even though she was right--it wasn't what he wanted to hear from his mother. What he wanted was for her to tell him not to do it. To run like the wind.
"That Irish bastard is all you've ever wanted, luv," she said, watching his face with a mixture of sadness and concern. "Don't miss the chance to love him like that if he's offering it to you. Even if it's only for a little while. At least you'll get to do it."
He shook his head, smiling wanly. "Probably be the end o' me."
Hazel put her arms around her son and hugged him. "It's that or keep doing what you've been doing for sixteen years--following him around and wanting him."
"I've had him," Vince said against her shoulder. Saying the words brought back a flood of sensual images from the day before and the other times. Vince felt his body heat up everywhere. "Maybe that will hold me over."
"Ah," Hazel said, dismissively. "Now that you've had him, you'll only be more addicted. You both knew you couldn't go back once you decided to shag. It's all different now, anyway. Might as well go the distance."
Vince looked up at her and a rain drop landed on his nose, making him blink.
"Oh, well," she said. "Back inside." She took his hand and lead her son back into the house, closing the door behind them.
* * *
Day Two. Stuart:
"So, they're sending their man up tomorrow," Sandra said, reading from the notes in her hand. "Apparently, he needs a bit more convincing before he's ready to sign, but you can take care of that. Right? Wine him and dine him?"
"Yeah, whatever." Stuart was busy that morning, still playing catch up from Friday. He was in the middle of returning a thousand emails and answering even more phone calls and he was barely paying his assistant any mind. She could have been telling him the building was burning down and he would have reacted the exact same way. The phone on his desk rang and Sandra picked it up.
"Stuart Jones' office? Yes, it is. Oh, hello. How nice to speak to you again. Yes, of course. He's havin' a morning, but I'll try and get him to sit still long enough to speak to you. Hold on a minute." She put the caller on hold. "It's Hazel Tyler."
"Can't talk to her now," he said, concentrating on a file that was open on his desk.
"It's Vince's mother."
He looked at her flatly from under his eyebrow. "Sandra, I know who she is. I can't talk to her now. Tell her I'll call her later tonight."
Sandra sighed, getting back on the phone. "Mrs. Tyler? Yes, I'm sorry, he's going to have to ring you back. He's . . ." She looked at her boss with wide eyes as she listened to whatever Hazel was saying on the line. "Well, yes, but--" Once again, Sandra was cut off.
Stuart frowned, watching her impatiently.
"Right. Hold on, then." Sandra put Hazel on hold again and gave him a resolved sigh. "She insists on speaking to you, Stuart. She said if you don't take her call right this minute she'll come down here and pluck out eyebrows with a hand mixer. That's a direct quote."
He let out a long, annoyed breath. "Was that all of it?"
"No," Sandra stated. "She called you an arrogant bastard."
Shaking his head, he took the receiver out of her hand and pressed the hold button. "Hazel, I'm busy. I can't chat right now."
"Then meet me for lunch," she said.
"I can't, I'm having lunch with a client."
"Drinks, then. After you get off. I'm not taking no for an answer, Stuart. You will speak to me today."
He groaned. "I'm not sitting there while you have a go at me, just so you know. I'm not your kid."
"If you were, you'd have been over my knee a thousand times! What time are you finished tonight?"
"Half six," he said, reluctantly.
"Right. I'll meet you at your office." Hazel hung up in his ear.
Scowling at the receiver, Stuart slammed it down. "For fuck's sake! Just what I need. Like this isn't bad enough already!" He wasn't really talking to Sandra, he was just venting and she was still standing there.
"Everything all right with Vince?" she asked, sheepishly.
He glowered, needing to dismiss her. "Everything's fine, Sandra. Would you tell Burton I need to see him?"
"Fine." She held up her hands in mock surrender and left the office.
The office was nearly deserted that night when Sandra came to his door with her coat on and her bag over her shoulder.
"I'm off, then. Do you need anything else tonight?"
"No, thanks. Goodnight." He was just shutting down his computer and getting ready to leave when Hazel appeared in the doorway behind Sandra.
The women greeted each other politely then Sandra took her leave, reminding Stuart of his meeting in the morning. Hazel leaned in the doorway, offering a slightly sheepish smile.
"Sorry to be so surly with you earlier, kid. Thought you might need a good bollocking before you agreed to see me."
"I'll say it again, Hazel, if all you plan to do is have a go at me about this whole thing, I'm not having it. It's none of your business, anyway. This is between me and Vince."
"Who says I want to talk about Vince?" she said, brightly. "I came to talk about you."
He regarded her skeptically for a moment, then he grabbed his jacket off the chair and slipped into it. "Have you eaten?"
"Not hungry, really. How about you and I get off our faces and have a good ol' mushy heart to heart?" She held out her arm to hook his.
Smiling in spite of himself, Stuart escorted her out of the office.
Down in the bar on the first floor of Stuart's office building, he and Hazel were on their third round of martinis. Hazel's were gin, his were vodka. She rolled the head of her cigarette against the edge of the fancy glass ashtray on the table and waited for him to answer her question.
Stuart fished the toothpick out of his drink and bit the green olive skewered on the end of it. He was thinking of his answer, considering it carefully. He wanted to make sure he was telling the truth--both to her, and to himself. "It just feels like time," he said, finally.
"You're really ready to settle down? At twenty-nine? Looking like this?" She waved her hand up and down in front of him like a game show host gesturing to an expensive prize. "Besides," he said, shaking his head. "It wouldn't be like settling down. Not with him. We'd still be Stuart and Vince. We'd do just what we do now, we'd just be . . . together. It's not like we're going to stop in our tracks and become these sad domestic plods growing roots on the couch or anything. It won't be like that."
Hazel watched him while he spoke, her keen eyes twinkling thoughtfully. "What happens when you start to squirm, Stuart?"
He winced as though she'd pinched him. "Maybe I won't."
"And maybe I'll be on the bloody cover of Vogue next month! Stuart, you're a hunter. That will never change. You could sooner change the color of your eyes than change that."
Stuart was a little buzzed from the drinks and he smiled as he rolled a bit of the olive around in his mouth. He was thinking about that kiss with the strawberry and he had only superficially heard the last thing she said.
"Your son is an excellent shag," he said. "I think he can keep me busy for a while."
"That's good to know, at least," she said, draining her cocktail. "I was beginning to wonder."
They looked at each other and then they burst out laughing at the same moment.
"Another?" Stuart asked, gesturing at the glasses.
"One more than I have to get home to look after that brat staying at my house. You know, I thought I was finished clearing up after a teenage boy who was constantly masturbating to the fantasy of Stuart Alan Jones. Now I've got another one! Thank you very much, you little shit."
Stuart bit the end of his tongue at the image of Nathan Maloney having a wank. God, he loved that kid's cock. He shook his head trying to blow the image out and he smiled at her. "Same again?"
"Please," Hazel said. "I'm quite drunk already, so you never know what I might say when you get back."
"That's one of the great pleasures of knowing you, Hazel Tyler. It's certainly never boring." He got up and went to the bar for another round. This elegant little watering hole was mostly a straight establishment, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the scenery. Besides, no one was really straight, anyway. If he wanted someone bad enough, he'd have them. No matter what impotent protest they offered.
His dark blue eyes scanned the room, stopping on the faces of all the men. Some were nice, some were ordinary. None were exceptional. The bartender was a rather pretty young woman who clearly fancied him. She gave him three olives in his drink that time, together with a sweet, intimate smile. He winked at her as he walked off with the fresh cocktails, making sure she got a good view of his ass as he moved across the floor. He considered it a sort of gratuity.
Carefully, he set Hazel drink down in front of her then he sipped a bit of his own before sitting down again. He was still scanning the room and he hadn't convinced himself he'd inspected everyone in it yet. Turning a straight man might be an interesting diversion for the evening. It would at least take his mind off this business with Vince. Maybe.
"See?" She said, tugging his tie. "Look at you! You can't stop, Stuart. You are what you are."
He sat down a bit retiringly, rolling his eyes. "Sorry. I was just looking. No harm in that. Vince wouldn't expect me to stop looking. Just stop touching."
"And you really think you could do that?" she said. "YOU. Of all people. Honestly, Stuart. I think you're making a mistake."
"I'm sure that's what you told him," he said, picking the new toothpick out of his drink. It felt heavy with all those olives clinging to it and he took the first one off with his front teeth.
"In fact, I didn't," Hazel said. "My advise to him was to go for it."
He stared at her. "And you just told me it was a mistake. Who's side are you on, here?"
"I'm on no one's side this time," she said. "I'm just speaking my mind to you both, is all. I'm telling you both the truth."
"How does that work, Hazel? It's a good idea for him and a bad idea for me? It's really the other way around, you know."
"He told me you said that to him," she said, softly. She looked at him closely. "Stuart, why ask him to be with you if all you're going to do is discourage him?"
He looked down at the napkin under his drink, picking the edge of it with his nails. "Because if I don't discourage him, I'm just being selfish. Clearly, that's what everyone expects of me, but I don't want to do that to Vince. I want to give him a chance to run screaming and get out of this unscathed. He might do, you know. He already told me no once."
"Oh, he did not," Hazel said, impatiently. "You just made it out like that. He didn't answer you either way."
"Regardless of how he reiterated it to you, you weren't there," Stuart said. "I know what happened. I was lying right next to him. He said no. And then he back-peddled and asked for a week to think it over."
Watching his face speculatively, Hazel said, "What do you think he'll decide?"
Stuart shrugged. "If he knows what's good for him, he'll tell me to fuck off." He took two deep swallows of his drink.
"Do you love him, Stuart?" she said, her tone gentle, that of a mother. "I mean, you may think it's obvious but . . . do you?"
He looked in her eyes for a long time before he answered. "Hazel, I love him more than I love myself." He shook his head, his smile self- conscious and sad.
"Well," she said. "That's saying something, isn't it?" She picked up her drink and gave him a rueful smile.
Hazel:
On the way home, Hazel stopped to get chips. She had no idea of Nathan had eaten but she knew Bernie would be hungry. Bernie was always hungry.
She came into the kitchen shaking the rain off her coat. Bernie sat in front of the telly with a beer on the table beside him.
"I've got chips," she said. "Where's Nathan?"
"I thought he was with you," Bernie said.
Her heart thudded sickly and she looked down at her watch. 11:30. "Christ," she sighed. "He hasn't been here all evening?"
"Honestly, luv, I thought he was with you. It's just been me since I got in from work."
She covered her face with her hands and flopped down in a chair at the table. "I can't stand all this drama. Where did we put that list of phone numbers for him?" She started rifling the puddle of papers on the table frantically. "I'll try Donna's. Maybe he's there. God. I can't believe that little bastard is doing this to me."
Bernie was out of his chair, helping her sift through the papers. "Why don't we phone his mother?"
"God, no! She'll be frantic. No . . . we'll find him. Shit. Keep looking, will ya? Where's the phone?" She got up and went to the phone that was sitting on the floor by the chair she normally sat in to watch telly. Picking it up, she dialed Stuart's mobile number. Hazel tugged the phone cord as she listened to his line ring once, twice, then finally he answered.
"Couldn't get enough of me?" He was still in the car, she could tell by the background noise.
She ignored his levity and got right to the point. "Stuart, Nathan's missing."
"So?"
Again, she ignored him and went ahead. "If you see him or if he phones you, please, please tell him to call me. All right? I don't want to worry his mother unless I need to."
She could hear the gate of the parking garage at Stuart's flat opening. "All right. If I see him, I'll have him call you. But, I'm not going out. You got me drunk, Hazel. I'm going to bed."
"Just keep your eyes open. You and that animal magnetism of yours, he might just show up at yours hoping to get shagged again."
She heard him get out of the car and set his alarm, then she heard his foot steps on the stairs outside his flat.
"That's not likely, is it?" he said.
"I wouldn't put anything passed you. Just ring if you hear anything or see him, all right?"
"Right, Hazel. I'll do that." He hung up like he always did, without so much as saying goodbye.
She turned to Bernie, her voice quavering. "Any luck?"
"Not yet. Maybe it's upstairs." He started down the hall and Hazel sighed, closing her eyes. Christ, this was all she needed.
* * *
Stuart:
As he walked up from the carport and rounded the landing of the stairs leading to his flat, he saw someone sitting there at the top of the steps. The phone was still pressed to his ear and he was listening to Hazel tell him she wouldn't put anything passed him.
" . . . Just ring if you hear anything or see him, all right?" she said.
Stuart stopped on the stairs and looked at Nathan Maloney sitting there, those young blue eyes pleading with him not to say anything.
"Right, Hazel. I'll do that." He snapped the mobile closed and dropped it in his pocket, looking at the boy incredulously. "What the fuck are you doing here, Nathan?"
He sighed, looking down at his feet. He shook his head, miserably. "Stuart, I'm sorry. I just . . . I was hoping we could talk for a bit. I know you don't want to . . ."
"Don't be so sure," Stuart said, starting back up the stairs. "I'm completely pissed and that always makes me horny. I might do anything. Come on up." He passed Nathan on the stairs and took out the keys to his front door.
Nathan followed him into the flat wordlessly, pulling the door closed after them. Stuart deposited his keys on the kitchen counter then started directly for the bedroom. He peeled off his jacket and let it drop on the hardwood floor, then he went up the two steps to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt. His head buzzing from the vodka, he continued to disrobe dramatically. The tie whipped in one direction, the shirt went in another and he tugged his fingers through his hair, loosening his ever-popular curls. He felt very much like shagging and Nathan was there. Such a tight, eager shag, as well.
He stepped out of his trousers, kicked off his shoes and socks and turned around to face the younger man wearing nothing but his Calvins. Nathan was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom just watching him. It wasn't until then that Stuart realized the boy was soaking wet. His hair was drenched, his clothing dark with water and clinging to his sculpted body.
"You're soaked to the skin," Stuart said. "Did you walk here?"
Nathan shrugged. "I was out walking, yeah. Forgot an umbrella."
Stuart sighed, impatiently. "Right. There's a robe on the back of the door in the bathroom. Take off your clothes and put them in the dryer. I'll make you a coffee." He started toward the door but Nathan held up his hand.
"I'm fine. Really. I just want to talk for a bit."
"Well, you're getting out of those clothes, either way." He went to the bathroom and pulled the robe off the door, handing it to Nathan as he passed him on the steps. His flat was warm from the heater being on all day, but he probably would have felt warm anyway from all the booze he'd consumed. Stuart put the kettle on in the kitchen, leaning on the counter that faced the bedroom.
Nathan sat on the steps outside the bedroom and took off his shoes and socks. He peeled away his wet jacket and shirt, then stood up again to take off his pants and underwear. Stuart watched all this with singular, lustful interest, his cock stirring at the sight of the boy's naked body. Nathan put the robe on, then gathered his wet things and brought them to the kitchen.
Stuart walked over to the dryer and opened it, nodding for Nathan to toss his clothes in. Once this was done, he turned the machine on and walked right up to the boy--inches away from his smooth young face.
"D'you want sex?"
Nathan gulped. "Yes."
"Then you have to promise me one thing."
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