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cmk418Blame this on the fact that I watched "King Arthur-Legend of the Sword" last night and really wanted a Craig Kelly cameo.
In the end, like in the beginning, he still hadn’t left.
“You don’t have to help me clean,” I said, loading plates into the dishwasher.
Nathan nodded and stood, resting his elbows against the island in the center of the kitchen. He was surrounded by empty beer bottles and dirty plates, signs of a party that was held without the guest of honor in attendance. Stuart wasn’t physically present, but he was here, in this place and in the minds of every one that showed up today.
I had them all catalogued in my mind, each one-off that had gone with Stuart into the stalls at Babylon or any of the other clubs that we’d passed along the way. There were others, the lucky ones that were dropped off with Stuart to come up here to the loft, the serious shags. Each one was listed with what they had done, what they were good at, what may have gone wrong- complete with Stuart’s snarky remarks, of course. Stuart had always been generous with the details- it wasn’t necessarily gloating or trying to make me jealous (although God knows I was) but rather it was a way to keep it straight in his mind. There were even a few Americans that had made the trip, friends that we’d made along our journey across the United States. The last of the one-offs.
In the end, as in the beginning, the only two that were left were the two that had him more than once.
“Stuart wouldn’t have liked today,” Nathan said.
“Why the fuck not? He would have had a laugh at all the people that showed up.”
“No one new. Stuart was always looking for someone new.”
“Not always,” I replied. It hurt, but I knew that Nathan’s remarks had a grain of truth in them. Even after we were together, more than once, Stuart’s eyes still wandered. He’d stopped acting on it, but occasionally, we’d be at a club and his eyes would gleam with possibility.
“Bunch of sad old men past their prime milling around, enjoying the buffet.”
“It was a great buffet,” I said in my defense. “And you’re not exactly past your prime.”
Nathan gasped dramatically, “Was that a compliment, Vince?”
“Fuck off,” I said.
“Surprised you’d noticed.”
“Hard not to. Heir to the throne, you are.”
“Were. It’s someone else’s kingdom now.”
“Ah, yes. The husband. Where is he, by the way?”
“Home.”
“You could have brought him, you know. Would have been someone new.”
“Actually…” Nathan trailed off and that one word seemed to echo in the loft. I looked at him, searching his face- if he was having a laugh, I would have been able to tell.
“No.”
He nodded. “It was Stuart’s way of giving Jasper the seal of approval.”
“That bastard. He never said.”
“Swore me to secrecy.”
“That bastard.” It wasn’t nice to speak ill of the dead, but I couldn’t exactly have a go at Stuart for his behavior. Nathan and Jasper had only been together three years and married for two. Stuart and I flew in for the wedding. “When?”
“Shagged him in the coat room during the rehearsal dinner.”
“Blimey, my coat was in there. I don’t remember him being gone for long.”
“I think we both know how efficient Stuart could be. I just remember Stuart coming back, Jasper was still mingling with the crowd at that point, and Stuart whispered to me, ‘You got yourself a good one there.’ And that’s when I knew. I couldn’t get angry. It was Stuart. It was his way. And I couldn’t get angry with Jasper for shagging him. God knows I would have if given the opportunity.”
“You had him more than most.”
“Except you. He loved you, Vince. Always had.”
“Even when he acted a right twat about it.”
“Even then.”
We lapsed back into silence. I continued to tidy up the kitchen and Nathan watched.
“Mind if I put on some music?” Nathan asked.
“Shouldn’t you be home?” All I wanted to do was finish my cleaning and then sink into the shower and cry until the water ran cold.
Nathan smiled. “Can’t get rid of me.”
“Fine.”
Within minutes, the loft was flooded with the sounds of dance music. The driving beat threatened to give me a pounding headache.
“What is this? Stuart Alan Jones’ Music to Shag By.”
“Come here, Vince. Dance with me.”
“Don’t be a twat.”
He held his hand out, stubborn as he ever was. It was a dare, pure and simple. I would be stupid to take him up on it. I watched those young hips, swaying to the beat of the music, and something within me was transported to another time, another lean set of beckoning hips calling me as they called everyone. My hand was in Nathan’s before I could stop myself.
He pulled me forward, grinding his body against mine. I closed my eyes. Was this what Stuart felt when he first picked up Nathan? All this youthful energy wanting to be possessed? Life amid the death? I moved suddenly, kissing him with no finesse whatsoever. I just needed to have him.
I pulled him in the direction of the bedroom, shucking off my clothes quickly, and then making quick work of his. There was a moment’s hesitation between us as I retrieved a condom from the drawer. He plucked it from my fingers and slipped it on as I began to prepare myself.
It didn’t take long before my feet were over his shoulders and he was pounding into me, following the beat of the music. It was intense, but a bit strange, considering the circumstances. I came within minutes. I hadn’t realized that I was so close. He had incredible stamina, no little blue pills necessary for him, but a ridiculous orgasm face. It surprised me so much that I had to laugh when he came.
“Oh, fuck off,” he said, collapsing on the bed beside me. I felt like I could sleep for a week, always did after good sex. He, however, only took a moment before he was gathering his clothes from the floor. I watched him dress.
“Stuart would have had a laugh about this, you know,” I mused.
He smiled. “Vince Tyler.”
“What?”
“You’re such a twat.” And on that note, Nathan Maloney finally left.
In the end, like in the beginning, he still hadn’t left.
“You don’t have to help me clean,” I said, loading plates into the dishwasher.
Nathan nodded and stood, resting his elbows against the island in the center of the kitchen. He was surrounded by empty beer bottles and dirty plates, signs of a party that was held without the guest of honor in attendance. Stuart wasn’t physically present, but he was here, in this place and in the minds of every one that showed up today.
I had them all catalogued in my mind, each one-off that had gone with Stuart into the stalls at Babylon or any of the other clubs that we’d passed along the way. There were others, the lucky ones that were dropped off with Stuart to come up here to the loft, the serious shags. Each one was listed with what they had done, what they were good at, what may have gone wrong- complete with Stuart’s snarky remarks, of course. Stuart had always been generous with the details- it wasn’t necessarily gloating or trying to make me jealous (although God knows I was) but rather it was a way to keep it straight in his mind. There were even a few Americans that had made the trip, friends that we’d made along our journey across the United States. The last of the one-offs.
In the end, as in the beginning, the only two that were left were the two that had him more than once.
“Stuart wouldn’t have liked today,” Nathan said.
“Why the fuck not? He would have had a laugh at all the people that showed up.”
“No one new. Stuart was always looking for someone new.”
“Not always,” I replied. It hurt, but I knew that Nathan’s remarks had a grain of truth in them. Even after we were together, more than once, Stuart’s eyes still wandered. He’d stopped acting on it, but occasionally, we’d be at a club and his eyes would gleam with possibility.
“Bunch of sad old men past their prime milling around, enjoying the buffet.”
“It was a great buffet,” I said in my defense. “And you’re not exactly past your prime.”
Nathan gasped dramatically, “Was that a compliment, Vince?”
“Fuck off,” I said.
“Surprised you’d noticed.”
“Hard not to. Heir to the throne, you are.”
“Were. It’s someone else’s kingdom now.”
“Ah, yes. The husband. Where is he, by the way?”
“Home.”
“You could have brought him, you know. Would have been someone new.”
“Actually…” Nathan trailed off and that one word seemed to echo in the loft. I looked at him, searching his face- if he was having a laugh, I would have been able to tell.
“No.”
He nodded. “It was Stuart’s way of giving Jasper the seal of approval.”
“That bastard. He never said.”
“Swore me to secrecy.”
“That bastard.” It wasn’t nice to speak ill of the dead, but I couldn’t exactly have a go at Stuart for his behavior. Nathan and Jasper had only been together three years and married for two. Stuart and I flew in for the wedding. “When?”
“Shagged him in the coat room during the rehearsal dinner.”
“Blimey, my coat was in there. I don’t remember him being gone for long.”
“I think we both know how efficient Stuart could be. I just remember Stuart coming back, Jasper was still mingling with the crowd at that point, and Stuart whispered to me, ‘You got yourself a good one there.’ And that’s when I knew. I couldn’t get angry. It was Stuart. It was his way. And I couldn’t get angry with Jasper for shagging him. God knows I would have if given the opportunity.”
“You had him more than most.”
“Except you. He loved you, Vince. Always had.”
“Even when he acted a right twat about it.”
“Even then.”
We lapsed back into silence. I continued to tidy up the kitchen and Nathan watched.
“Mind if I put on some music?” Nathan asked.
“Shouldn’t you be home?” All I wanted to do was finish my cleaning and then sink into the shower and cry until the water ran cold.
Nathan smiled. “Can’t get rid of me.”
“Fine.”
Within minutes, the loft was flooded with the sounds of dance music. The driving beat threatened to give me a pounding headache.
“What is this? Stuart Alan Jones’ Music to Shag By.”
“Come here, Vince. Dance with me.”
“Don’t be a twat.”
He held his hand out, stubborn as he ever was. It was a dare, pure and simple. I would be stupid to take him up on it. I watched those young hips, swaying to the beat of the music, and something within me was transported to another time, another lean set of beckoning hips calling me as they called everyone. My hand was in Nathan’s before I could stop myself.
He pulled me forward, grinding his body against mine. I closed my eyes. Was this what Stuart felt when he first picked up Nathan? All this youthful energy wanting to be possessed? Life amid the death? I moved suddenly, kissing him with no finesse whatsoever. I just needed to have him.
I pulled him in the direction of the bedroom, shucking off my clothes quickly, and then making quick work of his. There was a moment’s hesitation between us as I retrieved a condom from the drawer. He plucked it from my fingers and slipped it on as I began to prepare myself.
It didn’t take long before my feet were over his shoulders and he was pounding into me, following the beat of the music. It was intense, but a bit strange, considering the circumstances. I came within minutes. I hadn’t realized that I was so close. He had incredible stamina, no little blue pills necessary for him, but a ridiculous orgasm face. It surprised me so much that I had to laugh when he came.
“Oh, fuck off,” he said, collapsing on the bed beside me. I felt like I could sleep for a week, always did after good sex. He, however, only took a moment before he was gathering his clothes from the floor. I watched him dress.
“Stuart would have had a laugh about this, you know,” I mused.
He smiled. “Vince Tyler.”
“What?”
“You’re such a twat.” And on that note, Nathan Maloney finally left.
