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
"That you sort yourself out and get the fuck out of Hazel's house as quick as you can. All right? Promise."
Nathan looked down, shyly. "I promise," he mumbled.
Stuart raised his chin on the end of his finger. "Look at me and promise."
Nathan did, round pale blue eyes locked on dark calculating blue eyes. "I promise, Stuart."
Nodding, Stuart took Nathan's jaw in his hand and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss. He drove his tongue into the boy's mouth, snogging him roughly, waiting for him to just lose it and start going for it. Nathan was still terrified of him, but Stuart knew he would win in the end. The boy was addicted.
His mouth was sweet and his tongue sought Stuart's hungrily, stroking and tasting wetly. Stuart pulled his body forward at the waist, tugging open the sash on the robe and reaching inside to touch the slightly chilled naked skin. He would warm up soon enough, Stuart thought. Nathan moaned against him then and that was what Stuart was waiting for. That soft, supplicating sound that let him know he was in charge.
He pulled out of the kiss breathlessly and looked right in Nathan's eyes. "Go get in my bed. I'm calling Hazel and telling her you're here."
"I want to stay with you tonight," Nathan pleaded.
"You can stay until I've fucked you, and then I'm putting you in a cab and sending you back there."
"Stuart . . ." Reaching down boldly, Nathan slid his fingers around Stuart's stiff cock and tugged it gently. It felt lovely--fantastic, in fact--but he grabbed Nathan's wrist and pulled his hand away. "Go get in bed. This isn't open for discussion." He stepped away but held the boy's wrist, leading him across the room and up to the bed. Nathan followed willingly enough. "Lie down," Stuart instructed as he reached for the phone.
Nathan took off the robe then crawled onto the bed, resting against the pile of pillows at the top. He watched as Stuart pressed the speed dial code for Hazel's number.
"Hello?!" she answered, breathlessly. "It's me," he said. "I've got the kid. He was waiting outside my flat. He's fine, he's just drenched. Said he was out walking in the rain."
She heaved a long sigh. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Thank God. Are you sending him back to me?"
"Yeah," Stuart said. "I'll get him a cab."
Hazel paused on the other end of the line. "You're not."
"I'm getting him a cab," he repeated, trying not to smirk. Being drunk always brought out the worst in him.
"Stuart Alan Jones, you get that child in a taxi this minute! Don't you dare shag him!!"
"Goodbye, Hazel. He'll be back soon." Stuart hung up on her then turned his attention to the sweet morsel in his bed. "I'm never going to hear the end of this so you'd better be worth it."
"You've had me, Stuart," he said, haughtily. "You know what I'm like."
"Yeah," Stuart said. "Like a tight little virgin."
"Just need some more practice." Nathan lowered his chin and regarded the older man lustfully. He bit his full bottom lip.
"Oh, that's right," Stuart said, crawling across the bed toward his young prey. "Give me that coy, flirty look. Like I don't know how bad you want me. Make me think I have to convince you, you hot little bastard. Come to daddy." He pulled Nathan by the back of the head and snogged him again, grinding their lips together so hard he thought he tasted blood. Stuart's mind was completely shut down--no thoughts of Vince, no concerns for the pending decision to be made that would change everything in his life. There was nothing but this hot boy, this wanton, panting creature pressing his cock against Stuart's belly. Nothing but pleasure. Nothing but sex.
Stuart had no intention of being gentle. Tenderness was not on his agenda. He kissed Nathan until he couldn't breath, then sucked his cock until he almost came. Then he flipped the boy over and ate his ass until he felt Nathan tremble under him like a leaf in the wind. Grabbing the lube and condom from the bedside table drawer, he prepared the young anus quickly but thoroughly. When he slid his cock inside, Nathan cried out and pushed back against him like an animal in heat, his lean young hips lifting up to offer maximum access. It didn't seem to Stuart that the kid needed too much more practice. He seemed to have the whole fucking thing pretty much sorted.
The booze made his hard-on last a long time so Stuart paced himself. He thoroughly enjoyed riding Nathan slow then fast, rough then gentle. He let his own orgasm work itself up gradually, his body tingling deliciously with every stroke. Nathan came before he did so when he felt his balls begin their tell-tale contraction, he pulled out, whipped off the condom and had a hard, slow wank all over Nathan's sweaty lower back. Nice. Good, rough, draining sex. Just what he'd needed.
He flopped over on the bed next to the boy, stretching out his limbs as he got his breathing under control. Reaching over to the box of tissue on the night table, he pulled off two sheets then set about wiping his spunk off Nathan's skin. When he looked down, he saw that the boy was already sleeping, his fantastic lips relaxed and parted. Must have had a hard day, poor kid.
Stuart picked up the phone and pressed Hazel's number again. This time when she answered she was much calmer, but her tone was terse and perturbed.
"Hello?"
"I'll send him home in the morning," he said.
Hazel simply hung up.
Day Three. Stuart:
Stuart was dreaming of having a massage by a gorgeous, tanned, shirtless babe in a steamy room somewhere. The sound of the rain was a constant throughout the dream and he sighed, sleepily rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn't want to wake up even though his subconscious knew he had to. Something about an early meeting. But that massage was so lovely and so . . . real. He could feel the strong fingers working on his lower back, soothing him, exciting him, stiffening his cock. He rolled over still mostly asleep and to his half-conscious delight, the massage continued right where he wanted it. He sighed contentedly, spreading his legs and enjoying the tender, slow wank he was getting.
Turning his head to the side, his cheek brushed against soft, feathery hair that smelled faintly of citrus and rain. He brushed his nose in it, rubbing back and forth, loving the silky texture of it. The scent was familiar but . . .
Right. Nathan.
Stuart opened his eyes slightly and assessed the color of the light in the room. It was nearly 8:00 and the alarm would go off soon. Rain streaked the windows and he could hear it pummeling the roof of the building next door. It was chucking down out there.
Nathan looked up at him with dreamy, loving eyes, his cheek resting on Stuart's chest. "Is that nice?" he whispered, his grip tightening slightly, rubbing. His licked Stuart's nipple then took it in his teeth gently.
Stuart moaned his answer, letting his eyes slide closed again. He fingered Nathan's incredibly soft hair and just laid there, decadently, letting the boy please him. It didn't take long. Never did first thing in the morning. Soon his back was lifting off the mattress in a tense arch and he was shooting come all over his belly.
Nathan kissed his neck and ears as he caught his breath and the boy's hard cock pressed against Stuart's thigh. He raised up on his hands and knees and licked his way down Nathan's rippled belly, gently biting the soft bit of flesh just below his navel. The cock waiting there was straining and wet at the tip and Stuart devoured it, sucking greedily and quickly, craving the warm, salty semen he knew he would have in his mouth within seconds. Nathan groaned, his fingers tangling in Stuart's hair, and his cock practically kicked in the older man's mouth. Stuart barely had time to taste the thick fluid as it flooded over his tongue and he swallowed it. Just as he was licking the boy's trembling cock clean, the alarm started bleating.
He glared up at the clock and saw that Nathan's reach was closer to it than his. "Smack that fucking thing, will ya?" he said.
Still reeling from coming, Nathan blinked at him, dazed. "Huh?"
"The clock," Stuart said, smiling at the result of his handiwork.
"Oh." Nathan smiled back, lazily, then reached over and pressed the button on top of the clock. Apparently, he hadn't even heard the damned thing. He sighed contentedly, then rolled onto his side to cuddle against Stuart as he laid back down on the pillows.
"I have to get you to Hazel's. You'll be late for school."
"We can shower together," Nathan said. "Save time."
Stuart shook his head. "Cheeky. You go ahead. I need a coffee." He stepped off the edge of the bed and went out to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to get out his trusty cold spoons, his eye fell first upon the little tin of caviar sitting on the first shelf. Looking at it made him flinch, like he'd just been stabbed in the heart with a small, sharp object.
Christ. What the fuck had he done?
* * *
Hazel:
She was on her third Benson of the morning as she paced the kitchen in her housecoat. Bernie sat at the table drinking coffee and completing the crossword she'd started the day before. He sighed, looking at her from under his graying eyebrows.
"Hazel, you know you can't say anything to Vince so why are you worrying yourself about this? Stuart made his bed."
She brought her hand to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. "God!! I cannot believe he did this!"
Bernie shook his head. "I've only known him a few years and this doesn't surprise ME a bit. I'd think you'd be accustomed to the little bastard by now." He set the pen down and looked at his old friend, speculatively. "You're not saying anything, are you?"
"NO!! Of course I'm not. Jesus, Bernie. I wouldn't do that to my son. But knowing it . . . is bloody awful." She flopped into a chair and crushed out her cigarette, looking at her watch for the umpteenth time that morning. "Where the hell is that Nathan?!"
The front door opened then and she bolted out of her chair.
"Mum?" Vince called.
Hazel rushed to the doorway of the kitchen with her eyes as wide as saucers, staring at him as though she'd never seen him before in her life. "Vincent! What are you doing here?"
"Uh, I thought I'd drop off that tenner you asked for yesterday in case you needed it today. I'm on the early shift and I won't be around until this afternoon."
"OH!" She smiled, way too brightly and let out a shrill little laugh. "That's so nice of you, love. Have you got time for a cuppa tea?"
"No, I've got to get going. Are you all right?" He squinted at her as though he wasn't sure if he should laugh at her behavior or get on the phone with a mental institution.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes! I'm fine." She rushed down the hall toward him, a flurry of flailing hands and flowing fabric from the long sleeves of her robe. She kissed his cheek and gave him a quick, almost manic hug, then she opened the door and started to turn him around toward it. "I don't want to keep you, darling. Thanks so much for stopping by."
He grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eye, soberly. "Mum, what is WRONG with you? Are you ill?"
"No, I'm fine! I . . . I just don't want you to be late." Outside in front of the house, Hazel caught the flash of Stuart's black jeep as he pulled in at the curb. Not knowing what else to do, she grabbed her son again and gave him another hug, trying to keep his back to the street so he wouldn't see Nathan getting out of the car.
The sound of the jeep door closing must have been familiar to him because Vince pulled away from her and turned around just as Nathan was walking up the front steps. Stuart pulled out and drove off up the street without looking back.
Hazel felt her heart sink, knowing without a doubt that Vince had seen the car. She was positively nauseous as Nathan approached them in the doorway. Silently, she prayed that he would just pass them and go on upstairs to get dressed for school, but she knew better. The kid was far too proud of his connection to Stuart and he would be unable to resist flaunting it.
"Morning," he said, smiling at Vince with a cold glint in his eyes.
She piped up, trying to distract him enough to keep him from saying or doing anything further. "Your mother will be `round in twenty minutes," she blurted. "Your shirt's hanging on the door, you'd better hurry."
Nathan kept his focus on Vince's eyes as he squeezed between them and started up the stairs inside. "Thanks, Hazel," he said and by some blessed miracle, that was all he said.
She watched the boy walk up the stairs and turn the corner into Vince's old bedroom, then she looked at her son, helplessly. There was nothing at all she could say or do for him and Hazel Tyler wanted to scream.
Vince was deathly pale and his lovely blue eyes had turned as gray as the rainy sky outside. He swallowed once, looking back into her eyes. Then he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, opening the billfold with slow, dreamy motions. He slid out a ten and handed it to her, then he put his wallet back and picked up his umbrella that was leaned just inside the door. He stepped out onto the porch and walked down the front stairs, raising the umbrella over his head.
Hazel watched him walk down the street and disappear around the corner.
* * *
Vince:
His mobile rang three times that morning, all before ten o'clock. Vince never answered it. He didn't even look to see who was calling, he just let the damnable little device ring and ring. After the third call, he got tired of listening to it so he switched the phone off and left it in the pocket of his raincoat in his office.
The morning was uneventful, even a bit too quite for his liking. Vince would have welcomed a diversion of any kind that day.
Some time around 10:30, he went back for his phone and rang Hazel. Just to see if she needed some shopping done.
"Love, are you all right?" she said, tentatively.
"I don't want to talk about that, Mum. I just rang to see if you needed any groceries."
Hazel paused for a long time, then she said, "He's called here twice already. Says he can't reach you on your mobile."
"He can piss off, can't he?" Vince said. "If he wants to talk to someone so bloody badly, he can go get that fucking Nathan out of school. Now, do you need anything?" He was determined not to get bogged down in his depression, and he hoped she would go along with him.
Hazel sighed and her tone cheered a bit. "Well, actually, yes. I could use a few things. Some tea bags, I believe. Let me take a look."
He waited, listening to her open cupboards and look in the fridge. He was standing in the coffee isle with a handle basket over his wrist. "There's an offer on coffee," he told her. "Two for one. Might as well stock up. And you get double the points on your card." He grabbed two packages of the freeze dried stuff and dropped them in the basket.
"Oh, get some Weetabix," she said.
"I thought your breakfast was twenty Bensons," he said, cheekily.
"It's for Little Lord Fauntleroy."
Vince was instantly incensed by the mention of Nathan but he was very much aware that he was at work--surrounded by his gossipy co-workers who all had very big ears. "I'm not shopping for him!" he hissed, under his breath. "What else does he want? Angel Delight? Party rings? Nappies?"
Hazel sighed in that way of hers that said she was ignoring his tantrum. "Oh, and get me a big box of Surf. I've got double the laundry. It's all bed sheets, I'd forgotten how much teenage boys masturbate."
He knew his mother was trying to cheer him up by saying such an embarrassing thing about Nathan and he showed his appreciation for her attempt by giving her a little laugh. "Mum!"
"Stiff as a board," she concluded.
He could hear Bernie mumbling some remark in the background and then Hazel translated.
"Bernie says `don't wash `em, he'll have `em'."
"It's like an 0898 number," he said, laughing genuinely by then. It was still sad laughter, though. "I'll bring it `round this afternoon, and we're having words about this Nathan business. It's been a fortnight now, it's ridiculous. See you later." He hung up the phone and turned around with the basket, nearly running into a man who was suddenly standing behind him. Vince blinked at him, then excused himself, taking the basket to one of his co-workers and asking her to ring it up for him on staff discount.
As he turned around again, the man was still there, apparently waiting to speak to Vince.
"I'm sorry, Sir. Can I help you?"
"If you're busy, I'll just go," the man said in a smooth, Australian accent.
Vince blinked again and his mental recognition file began to whir. He knew this man--or at least he'd met him somewhere. His concentration must have shown on his face because the rather handsome sort-of stranger smiled and introduced himself.
"Cameron Roberts," he said. "We met at Phillip Delaney's funeral."
"Oh my God," Vince said, returning the offered handshake. "Sorry. Of course we did. Vince."
"I know."
Vince smiled awkwardly, unable to think of a single thing to say next. "Well, bit of a coincidence," he stammered.
"Not really," Cameron said. "Phil said you worked here so I came looking. Just thought you might fancy dinner tonight?"
Eyes darting around to make sure no one had heard, Vince stepped closer to Cameron and lowered his voice. "Sorry, I'm sort of--not at work, you know?"
Cameron whispered back, his cool gray eyes glinting with flirtation. "Is that a yes or a no?"
Suddenly, Vince was completely flustered. This man had just asked him out on a date. He couldn't recall the last time that happened to him--in fact, he didn't think it had ever happened to him as an adult. "Well, I dunno . . . I might be doing all sorts."
Cameron smiled, reaching into his coat pocket. "It's all right, no pressure. Here's my card. Think about it."
Vince took the card with a shaky hand, smiling shyly and hoping he wasn't blushing too badly. "Yeah, right. Nice card."
Cameron nodded, turning to go. "Call me." He smiled sexily over his shoulder then took his leave.
Staring down at the card in his hand, Vince's heart raced. Normally the first thing he would do in a situation like this would be to call Stuart and gush the whole story out in one long breath. But the madness of the whole Sex/Boyfriend Thing had managed to put quite a damper on their friendship. Vince resented that and he wished he could change it. Roll back time and undo whatever it was that made them feel like they couldn't be friends through all this. After all, when had they needed each other's friendship more? Where else were they meant to turn while they sorted through all this emotional detritus?
Vince had tried to talk it out with Hazel, but he felt stymied by not wanting her to know everything. Some of the details were very personal, after all, and he didn't want her to have access to that. She was still his mother. He figured Stuart had tried to bend Romey's ear about it, but she was likely more critical than supportive. She probably didn't believe him, knowing her. No, the two of them had made themselves each other's entire support system. Nathan or no Nathan, Vince needed his best friend right then.
Pocketing Cameron's card, he headed upstairs to his small office where he closed the door. He looked at the phone on the desk for a long time before he picked it up.
* * *
Stuart:
Sitting in his office, Stuart tried Vince's mobile number for the forth time that morning. Once again, the call rolled over to voice mail instantly.
"Fuck." He slammed the phone down and frowned at the clock. His meeting would arrive soon and he was in no mood to deal with some indecisive client on an overnight from London.
Hazel told him when he called looking for Vince that morning that his best friend had been standing in the doorway of her house when he dropped Nathan off. He hadn't even seen Vince there--not that he was looking. Stuart was trying to avoid the bollocking he had coming from Hazel at all costs. He got out of his chair and paced his office anxiously, staring out the window at the still drumming rain.
Sandra appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat to get his attention. "Your 10:30 is here. Let me bring you up to date."
Stuart sighed, reluctantly, following his assistant out into the hall.
Martin Brooks was a boring, balding, bland man with a wife and three kids, but he was also the man whose signature Stuart needed to complete this deal. Sandra trotted Stuart out to meet Brooks in the reception area between the offices on his floor, and Stuart grumbled the whole time until they were within earshot of the client.
He introduced himself and made nice, offering some suggestions for how he might entertain Mr. Brooks while he was in town that evening. While Brooks was considering the options, Stuart's mobile rang.
"Excuse me," he said, politely, glancing hopefully at the display screen. Yes. Vince. He brought the phone to his ear and walked over to the window for some privacy. "So, we're talking now?"
"Shut your face," Vince said, manically. "Complete emergency. I've been asked out. On a date!"
Stuart fingered Cameron Roberts' business card as he and Vince sat in the jeep at lunch time. They had sandwiches and coffee but neither had really been touched. They were both edgy and tense and the conversation they had exchanged since Stuart picked him up had been minimal and superficial at best.
"I think you should go out with him," Stuart said.
Vince scowled. "That doesn't make sense."
Stuart shrugged. "You don't know, he might be someone nice. Someone good for you. He's got his own business, he's obviously doing well. He'll probably take you somewhere posh and treat you like a prince." He smiled, sadly. "How bad could it be?"
Vince said nothing. He fingered the blue plastic fringe on the toothpick stabbed into his sandwich.
"It's just dinner," Stuart continued. "Why not go?"
Vince shook his head. "It wouldn't be fair to him. I mean, he seems like an all right bloke. I'd feel bad. He'd be paying for this nice meal and nice wine and I'd just be sitting there thinking about you."
It was Stuart's turn to say nothing. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure why he was encouraging Vince to accept the date. It just seemed like the right thing to do. What if this Cameron was someone who would treat Vince well? Stuart didn't want to stand in the way of his friend's chance to meet a nice man, since that was all Vince seemed to want in the world.
Shifting slightly in the passenger seat, Vince looked at him again. "I've got another rule to add to the list."
"What was the first rule?" Stuart said.
"If we do decide to get together, there's that one rule you have to follow. Remember?"
He smirked. "Oh, yeah. I can't shag anyone else."
"Right."
"I don't know, Vince. A rule like that is going to be difficult enough. Now you want to add another?" He grinned, cheekily, hoping to lighten the mood of the conversation a bit.
Vince wasn't having him. He paused for a moment before going on, his expression stoic and resolute.
"All right, what?" Stuart said.
Vince took a breath. "No matter what happens--and I mean no matter WHAT--you cannot have anything more to do that fucking Nathan Maloney. Not so much a civil word in passing. I'm serious, Stuart. The kid has to be dead to you. I can't handle it! I . . . don't know what to make of your interest in him and I just . . ." Vince's brow furrowed deeply and the blood rose in his face and neck. His jaw clenched visibly. "What is it with him?! Can you at least tell me that?!" He looked at Stuart, imploring, furious.
Stuart's heart was hammering in his chest. He'd never seen Vince like that--so intense, so angry and forceful. He wanted to tell his friend how this mood was affecting him, how moved he was by the knowledge that he'd hurt Vince so badly. Finding himself at a complete loss for words to describe it, he took Vince's hand and placed it over his thumping heart, pressing his palm down so he could feel the frantic rhythm.
Vince's expression dissolved into one of surprised concern. He took his hand away as though he'd been burned and looked in Stuart's eyes. "What--are you all right?"
"You're scaring me," he said and that was the truth.
Vince looked down, the anger clouding his boyish face again. "Yeah, well. This is what jealousy looks like. Suppose you should get used to seeing it on me . . . if we . . . you know."
Stuart was chilled by that comment. There it was in one simple sentence. Vince would never be able to trust him--not that he ever had. And Stuart knew he deserved to not be trusted. He'd never given Vince a reason to trust him, not even in the most superficial way. He recalled the comment Vince made the other night when they were sitting on the floor in front of his fridge. He'd made a joke about refusing to be blindfolded like Kim Basinger in "Nine Weeks" because Stuart would probably feed him a jalapeo as soon as his eyes were covered. It had been said playfully at the time, but at that moment Stuart realized it was a symptom of a far greater disease. In the simplest, most awful terms, his best friend did not trust him.
"Do you even know?" Vince pressed. "What it is about Nathan?"
Stuart shook his head a bit helplessly. "I . . . I get off on the way he looks at me. How he adores me. It's an ego thing, I guess. I don't know. He's so young and beautiful . . . makes me feel . . . Fuck, Vince, I don't know!"
Vince was staring at him hard, blatantly. "I need you to sort that out by Saturday," he said. "I need you to think about it and be able to explain it to me."
Stuart stared back, not really believing that Vince was still willing to go through with all this even after what he'd done with Nathan last night. Stuart sighed, once again regarding the small business card in his hand.
"Why don't you go out with this guy? Really. It might be nice." He attempted a smile but it didn't come off so well. "He might be a good shag. With a day like the one you've had, you need a good shag at the end of it."
Vince was still staring at him in that cool, angry, resolved way. "Do you agree? To the new term and the new rule?"
Stuart smiled, wearily, then gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Okay. Anything to make you stop looking at me like that."
"You're a bastard, Stuart," Vince said. "Look what you did! And you haven't even bothered to apologize."
"We never said we weren't going to shag anyone else this week. We never agreed to that!"
"I know we didn't, but Jesus!! Why him???!!"
"He was on my doorstep last night. I was drunk and I wanted to shag and there he was. That's all, Vince. That's the whole uninteresting truth!" He was shouting but he was also very glad to be saying the words. Stuart was relieved that this part of the conversation had finally occurred.
"He was on your doorstep?" Vince repeated, colorlessly.
"He was. Sitting there waiting outside my flat last night."
Vince shook his head in disbelief. "You pick men up in the lift in your building, they wait on your doorstep for you . . . next thing they'll be sending themselves to you in the bloody post! Christ."
Stuart tried not to laugh, but Vince's sense of humor always got to him. It always had. He smiled, then laughed a little, turning away as he felt the heat of blush creep into his cheeks. Then finally Vince smiled a bit, the storm of his anger ebbing slightly. He could never stay cross for long. Not where Stuart was concerned.
"I'd like you to apologize, Stuart," he said.
"But, we didn't agree not to shag anyone else!" Stuart insisted, knowing it was a terribly weak argument.
"I know that," Vince said, patiently. "I wouldn't have given a toss if you'd gone out and had twelve complete strangers--in fact, I half expect it! I would like you to apologize because you chose to shag Nathan. I'm not daft, I know you won't. But I needed to say that I'd like you to."
Stuart watched his friend's face for a long time, making sure the anger had truly passed. They were at an impasse and they both knew it. Nothing more needed to be said on that topic at that moment. Stuart sighed, lowering his chin and offering his sexy/coy smile.
"Can I have a kiss?"
"No," Vince stated. "I'm too pissed off at you."
Stuart laughed softly, reaching over and poking Vince in the belly with his finger. It was the first time they'd touched each other that day. "Come on . . . just a little one."
"No." Vince suppressed a smile, looking down at his watch. "I've got to get back, anyway." He closed the Styrofoam container around his untouched sandwich and turned around in the passenger seat to buckle up.
"Viiinnccce . . ." Stuart cooed.
"I said no, didn't I? Please take me back, all right?"
Rolling his eyes, Stuart turned the engine on and started back toward the supermarket.
He pulled up just around the corner so Vince could get out without being seen in the jeep. As he stepped out of the passenger seat and gathered his things, Stuart took out his mobile and dialed the phone number on the little business card he'd been holding the whole time. Vince wasn't paying him any mind and Stuart had a moment's hesitation when he heard Cameron Roberts answer the line--but the deed was already in motion so he plunged ahead.
"Mr. Roberts?" Stuart said, professionally.
"Yes, this is Cameron Roberts."
"I have Mr. Tyler for you." Stuart grinned like a kid as Vince waived his hands frantically and shook his head, mouthing the word `no' vehemently.
"Oh, fine then. Thanks," Cameron said.
"Putting you through." Stuart held out the phone, grinning madly and nodding, encouraging Vince to take the call. `Go on' he whispered.
Reluctantly, Vince took the mobile and brought it to his ear. At first, he tried to make a thousand excuses as to why he couldn't see Cameron--he was busy, he was working nights all week, he had obligations, etc. But, Cameron must have said the right combination of words because after a moment, Vince got quiet and listened. And then he started to sound a bit interested. And then he said he would see Cameron at eight o'clock that night for dinner.
Stuart smiled as he took the phone back and pocketed it. "That wasn't so hard, was it? You've got a date! Be happy, why don't you?"
"Because it's stupid. Why am I bothering?"
"He might be sweet," Stuart said. "Sounds nice on the phone. Give him a chance."
"Stuart, I don't want to give him a chance. I just want--"
"Wear something blue," Stuart said, a bit wistfully.
Vince just looked at him, his lovely face sweet and vulnerable, acquiescent. "Stuart, I love you. Why am I bothering with this?"
"Just go. Keep your phone on. I have to go out with a client tonight but it shouldn't be late. Call me and let me know how it's going."
Vince closed the passenger door and shook his head. "It's a waste of Cameron's time. It isn't fair. What if he falls in love with me or something?"
"Yeah," Stuart said, smiling. "What if he does?" He waved and pulled out, heading back in the direction of his office.
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