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Authors: J.L. Merrow

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BOOK: Muscling Through
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“Al, would you mind waiting outside?” Larry said. So I went out in the corridor. There were lots of nurses walking past, and they all looked at me, and one of them asked if I was looking for the Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery department. And I said, no, thanks, I’d already been. Then one of them said “Big Al! What are you doing back here?” and I saw it was Cheryl, one of the nurses from when I had my face done.

“I’m just visiting,” I said.

“Glad to hear it. Oh, is it that poor student you’ve come to see?”

“Yeah,” I said. “My partner’s in with him now. He knows him from college.”

She sort of tilted her head and looked up at me. “You? With someone from the University?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’d never of thought it, would you? His name’s Larry, and he’s really clever. He’s a professor. History of Art. He likes Charlie Chaplin.”

“I bet he does! How on earth did you two meet?”

I thought of what Larry said when Mrs. Cartwright asked, so I said, “Through art.”

Cheryl laughed. “Oh yes? Got an exhibition coming up, have you? Art by Al?”

“No,” I said. “That was a few months ago. At Midsummer Fine Arts, up by the common. But they still got some of my pictures in the shop. You got to look for Alan Fletcher, ’cause that’s what I sign them as.”

“You know, I might just do that,” Cheryl said. She was still looking at me with her head sort of on one side. I was just about to ask her if she’d hurt her neck when Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright came back, and then Larry came out of Matthew’s room. He looked really tired. He smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, but I could see it was hard work.

“Did it go all right?” I asked when we were walking down the stairs after we’d said goodbye.

“Oh… I think so. I hope so. You just never really know, do you? If you’re reaching someone or just talking at them.” Larry rubbed his eyes like they were tired. “God, that was exhausting. I need a drink.”

So after we drove back into town, I took him to Punters, and we sat outside the pub and looked at the river, just like we did the day after we met. Except Larry didn’t feel much like talking this time, so I talked instead. I know now I don’t have to worry about sounding stupid in front of Larry, ’cause he already knows me. So I talked about the tourists who went out in a punt last week and got their pole nicked by students when they went under Clare Bridge and had to paddle back, and the ones who came back all soaking wet ’cause they’d fallen in the water. Which isn’t as easy as you’d think, as punts are about as stable as you can get, for a boat. But that thing they show on comedy programmes, where the guy gets the punt pole stuck in the mud and doesn’t let go and the boat goes on without him, that actually happens. I’ve seen that lots of times. I told Larry about that too.

My voice was getting a bit croaky after all that talking, and I’d finished my pint, so I asked Larry if he’d like another glass of wine.

“Oh…no.” Larry sighed and tried to smile at me. Then he finished up his drink. “Let’s just go home and eat.”

So we went home and I cooked us a fry-up, ’cause I could do that quick and it didn’t need any fancy ingredients or nothing. But I didn’t do any eggs, ’cause I thought Larry might not want to think about them getting broken right now.

After that we watched some Laurel and Hardy DVDs I got Larry one time when I went to the shops and I saw they was going cheap. I was a bit worried when the film we were watching turned out to be a scary one, ’cause I didn’t think Laurel and Hardy did scary, but Larry cuddled up to me on the sofa, and I put my arms round him. He felt more fragile than usual, so I was careful not to squeeze him too tight.

When the DVD finished, I said, “Do you want to watch another one? A non-scary one?”

Larry kissed my neck, right on the spider-web tat. “No. Let’s not.”

So we switched off the TV, and Larry climbed on my lap with his knees either side of me and kissed me some more. His lips were soft and smooth and a bit greasy from the fry-up, and he kissed me really deep. I put my arms round his waist and held him tight, like I wasn’t planning ever to let go. I wish I could do that—hold on to Larry all the time and keep him safe.

I wasn’t sure if he’d want to fuck, ’cause he’d been so down earlier, but pretty soon I could feel his hard cock pressing into my stomach. I love the feel of Larry’s cock. The rest of him is kind of little and delicate, but his cock’s big and strong. It always gets me going when I feel his hard cock jabbing into my belly. I’ve got to see it, touch it.

It wasn’t easy undoing his trousers with him on my lap, but I’d had a lot of practice. His cock jumped up, all salty and musky-smelling, the tip of it moist. I wanted to taste it, so I slid down underneath him until I could reach it with my mouth.

I sucked him for a few minutes, and the flavour got better all the time.

Larry kept panting and moaning, but then he put his hand on my jaw so I knew he wanted me to pull off for a moment. “Not…not like this,” he said. “I want to come with you inside me. How do you want me?”

“Sit on me,” I said, ’cause I love it when Larry’s on top and I don’t have to worry about hurting him or nothing.

There’s a little box on the mantelpiece where we keep some lube, ’cause we got fed up having to go up to the bedroom all the time. So Larry went and got it and slicked himself and me up, and then he climbed back onto my lap. He lowered himself down onto my cock, and it felt so right, like that was where he belonged. His hole was clenching, pulling me in, like he knew it too.

“God, that’s good!” Larry said. He started to move, riding my cock with slow, easy strokes like we had all the time in the world. I liked that feeling. I could have stayed like that all night, just feeling close to him and watching his face, but my dick had other ideas. It wanted to come. Larry had his hands on my shoulders, so I reached in and made a fist round his cock for him to thrust up into. “God yes!” he said. “Al!”

He looked so close, I figured it was okay for me to stop trying to hold it off, so I let myself feel it all, the way his arse tightened around me, all hot and slick inside, and pretty soon I was bucking up into him and filling him up with my come.

“Al!” Larry said again, and his voice cracked a bit, and then he was shooting his load all over my chest in hot little spatters.

I wanted to paint him all over again, to catch that moment so I could keep it forever, and it made me sad to think I’d never get it exactly right.

Then I thought, what the hell.

We’d just have to keep on doing it.

Chapter Eight

We were having breakfast one morning, when Larry said, in a funny voice like he was trying to be casual, “Do you know, Al, we’ve been together a year today?”

And I grinned, ’cause I may not have loads of letters after my name like Larry’s got, but I can remember dates okay, as long as I write them down. “Yeah, I knew that. You want to go out to celebrate or something?” I got up and went and put my arms around him from behind, and I kissed his neck in the place that always makes him shiver. In a good way, not like he’s scared or nothing. “Or we could, you know, stay in and celebrate?”

Larry kissed my arm, ’cause he couldn’t reach nothing else. “I think we should go out.”

So we went out for a meal at this Japanese restaurant Larry likes, and we had sushi and sake and all that shit. It was really nice, though the food’s really tiny, so you got to order lots of it. On the way home, Larry kept saying we had to go this particular way. I didn’t know what he was up to till we got to this dirty street behind the shops, and I realised it was the one on the way home from the pub to my old place. The one where I’d stopped to have a wazz the first night we met. It was kind of weird being back there, because it was a happy place because we’d met there, but it was sad because Larry had been all scared. So I gave him a cuddle, but he pushed me away. I was wondering what was going on, but then he went down on one knee right in the middle of the street, in his posh suit and everything. His voice went all funny, like he was scared again. “Al, you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever been terrified by down a dark alleyway. Will you marry me?”

I must’ve had this big grin on my face as I picked him up out of the dirt and I held him tight and I said fuck, yeah, only was he sure that was what he really wanted? ’Cause I know he could do way better than me if he tried.

He said, “Al, that’s the stupidest question you’ve ever asked in your life,” but I don’t reckon it was. I bet I ask way stupider questions than that every day, but as long as Larry don’t mind, I guess that’s okay.

It was just perfect, with the streetlamp flickering and the rain making the place look all shiny, and when we got to the end of the street, there was this bloke having a wazz, just like I’d done a whole year ago, and Larry and me saw him and burst out laughing. Then the bloke got really mad and we had to run away, because I didn’t want to have to punch anyone out when it was our anniversary and we’d just got engaged and all.

And when we got home, I got Larry up against the wall, and I kissed him and kissed him, and then I jerked him off and got jizz all over the carpet, and he wouldn’t let me clean it up until after he’d blown me. So there’s still this little rough patch by the wall, but I don’t think you’d know it was jizz if no one told you.

 

 

Larry said all along if we just stuck together his family would have to come around. I thought maybe they wouldn’t, but he was right, like he always is, ’cause when we sent them the invites to our civil partnership ceremony, they accepted. And I think they must have been talking to Larry before the day, because they didn’t buy us toasters and crap like that; they gave us art stuff and tickets for the opera. Larry’s teaching me to like opera. He says by the time we celebrate our twenty-fifth anniversary, I might even be ready for Wagner.

His sister heard him say that. She said that’s a surefire way of making sure we don’t reach twenty-six, but I think she was joking, ’cause Larry just laughed. I get along okay with his sister now. She got me off that Drunk and Disorderly charge no problem. She calls me Al, and I call her Ali, which always makes me smile, ’cause it sounds like alley and reminds me of when me and Larry first met.

The ceremony was really special. We had it in this big old room in Larry’s college with shields on the walls and stained glass windows, so it was just like getting married in a church, really. We got dressed up all fancy like we was going to a college dinner, only even posher, with matching crimson waistcoats, ’cause that’s Larry’s college colours. My mum wore pink, ’cause she knows I like her in that, and the biggest heels I ever seen her in. She still only came up to my shoulder, though.

Larry’s mum was wearing a really dark suit. It was navy, but it looked black, like she was going to a funeral. I told Larry that, and he gave her a look and said, “That’s my mother. Never misses a chance to make a point.”

But just then, Mum came over, so I never got a chance to ask him what he meant. “Look who’s here, love,” Mum said, and I looked over by the door and there was my dad. He looked just like I remembered him, except lots older, and it was weird, ’cause I was taller than him now. He walked over to me and Larry, but he couldn’t seem to pick his feet up very high, and he walked really slow. He was leaning on the arm of a lady who was nearly as tall as him, which seemed strange ’cause he’d been with my mum, and she’s tiny.

“Hello, Alan,” the lady said. “I’m your Auntie Sarah—Bill here’s my brother. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out he had a grown-up son!

“’Ullo, Al,” Dad said. He smiled. It was just like I remembered, when he used to take me down the park to play football sometimes when he came to visit. “Oo’d ’ave thought it, eh? You getting married. To a bloke an’ all. I fort Sarah was ’aving me on when she tole me.” His voice sounded thick, like he’d just been to the dentist, and when he lifted a hand to put it on my shoulder, it was all shaky.

“Bill’s got Parkinson’s,” Auntie Sarah said. “He lives with me now. Keeps him out of trouble, doesn’t it, love?”

“’S right,” Dad said.

“Let’s get you to a seat, love,” Auntie Sarah said, and she took Dad off to sit down. He looked tired. My chest felt all tight. I was so happy, I could’ve cried.

Larry was holding on to my arm really tight, and he looked a bit like he needed a handkerchief too. “He looks a lot like you, doesn’t he?” Then he gave me a funny crooked smile. “You’ve even got the same nose.”

I grinned. “If I’d’ve stayed being a bouncer a few more years, I might’ve had the ears to match too.”

Larry made a face. “Just one more reason I’m glad you gave it up. Did he have the spider-web tattoo when you knew him?”

I touched my neck. “Yeah.”

Larry put his arms round me and hugged me. “Did I ever tell you, you’re a real softy at heart?”

I smiled. “Yeah. But it’s all right as long as you don’t tell no one else.”

We had to start the service then. I think the registrar was getting impatient.

My sister Lauren’s little girl Chloe was the ring bearer. She looked really sweet in her pink satin dress. When we were halfway through the service, she pulled on my sleeve and asked me, “Uncle Al, why are you marrying a daddy and not a mummy?”

I said, “’Cause I couldn’t find a mummy as pretty as you,” and Larry gave me a big smile. Then he put his finger to his lips and went “Shhh!” so we could get on with getting married.

When we turned round to face everyone after we’d said our vows, Mum shouted out, “Give him a kiss!” So I bent down and Larry stood up on tiptoe and we kissed, but it was just a little peck, ’cause everyone was watching and I felt kind of shy.

Then Larry said, “Oh, come on, we’re married now!” and he grabbed hold of me and gave me a proper kiss. Mum and Lauren cheered, and so did Ali, but Larry’s mum and dad looked a bit pissed off. Maybe they never got to do that at their wedding.

Mum turned round and gave Dad a kiss. He looked gobsmacked but really pleased.

I don’t think she’s planning on getting back together with him, though.

 

 

BOOK: Muscling Through
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ads

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