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~ ~ ~
Resisting the urge to call out “Gene! Look at me, Gene!”, Sam stood poised – and posed – on the highest diving board. Days like this, he thought, he really did feel like the kid in this relationship.
All afternoon he’d been alternating between the swimming lanes and diving boards; indulging in informal races over a couple of lengths and then perfecting his somersault to pike. In between, he’d bought himself an ice-cream, and spent half an hour lying by the outdoor pool soaking up the sunshine.
From where he stood now, he could see Gene in the distance, still sitting in the cafe with a newspaper, his cigarettes and yet another coffee on the table by his right hand. He’d been there since Sam had gone off to change, declining to reveal what Sam saw as a magnificent body to the gaze of other swimmers. “You know what happened last time, Gladys”, he had said. “Any running down the tow-path on a Sunday, I’ll do with me trousers on thank you.”
Sam couldn’t understand why anyone would want to spend the whole of Sunday afternoon sitting around doing nothing; he’d had far too many of that sort of Sunday when he was a child after his father had gone away. Sunday afternoons were when Ruth retreated mysteriously to her bedroom to be alone; Sam realised now that she had probably been crying up there and hadn’t wanted him to see. He’d had to sit quietly downstairs by himself, waiting for tea-time.
He shook off the memories, positioning himself at the very end of the board. He allowed himself to fall forward, turning over once then straightening his body and legs as he accelerated towards the glittering water.
* * *
Gene had been aware of Sam standing at the end of the board, but he felt daft watching him openly, knowing that he tended to take on a soppy look if he looked at Sam for too long. Seeing Sam leave the board, he did allow himself to watch him all the way down, enjoying the perfection of Sam’s body as it arrowed downwards, achieving entry to the water with scarcely a splash.
Part of Gene would have liked to be in the water with Sam, but he knew it was better this way; less chance of embarrassing himself. He couldn’t swim as fast as Sam, he was never quite sure how Sam could enjoy looking at his body, and the sight of Sam in those little trunks raised issues that in a public place were best hidden behind the newspaper.
A larger part of Gene was quite content sitting here in the cafe. When the wife had first left, he’d spent many lonely Sundays in the office, just chatting to the Desk Sergeant half the time, pretending to work on case notes the other half. Even before that, one way or another for as long as he could remember he had spent Sundays working or doing what other people wanted, or in his early days simply trying to avoid the old man. This way he got to sit around doing nothing with a coffee and the paper, while watching Sam strut about posing for him under the guise of practising his diving technique.
Only trouble was, Sam never seemed to realise that Gene wasn’t the only man who enjoyed looking at him. Glancing up, Gene saw a big, confident-looking Greek move up behind Sam, who was again waiting in line for the highest board. The man was taller than Sam and twice as broad, with Mediterranean black hair coating his back and shoulders. As he approached Sam he smiled and said something, gesturing up at the board.
Momentarily forgetting not to stare, Gene watched the daft sod smiling back at the hairy Greek like it wasn’t obvious what he was after. Gene could see the smarmy bastard touching his gold rings and necklaces as he smiled at Sam and stood just an inch or two too close.
For a DI, Sam could be remarkably naive, Gene thought. He’d even convinced himself the bloke at the hardware shop was only being ironic. Gene had tried to explain at the time, but it hadn’t sunk in.
As Sam had come out of the shop, Gene had straightened up from where he’d been leaning on the car. There had been no good reason why he couldn’t have gone in with Sam, but he’d said no. “I don’t shop, Gladys, get that through yer head right now. You want to bring all those books in here, you put up the shelves to stick ‘em on.”
Watching Sam juggle the unwieldy lengths of wood, he’d contemplated offering to help carry, but decided he couldn’t be bothered and stayed put, watching.
Sam appeared to have pulled while he was in the shop; leave him alone five minutes off-duty and they were all over him, and he never seemed to notice. This one was practically panting.
Sam’s new friend stopped abruptly when he saw Gene; he looked accusingly at Sam and asked a question Gene didn’t hear. Gene watched Sam’s face as he said “Er, yeah”, his expression wavering between pride and confusion.
The bloke looked challengingly at Gene, who looked straight back and raised an eyebrow. Backing off, the man glared at Sam. This time Gene heard the words quite clearly - “cock tease” - as he walked away. Sam had still been staring after him as he’d reached Gene.
“You’re giving off signals again Sammy-boy.” Gene teased him as he opened up the car. ”Must have not shagged you hard enough this morning.”
He started taking the wood from Sam who was still standing there looking puzzled. Sam said “What? He called me a cock tease! But ... I only smiled and said hallo”.
Gene grinned at his indignation and confusion, then spoke more seriously. “Gladys, you put an arse like that in trousers like those, and cock-teasing is the least of what you’re doing. You need to be more careful, I’m not the only bastard wants you, you know.”
Sam stared at him for a moment then apparently dismissed the matter. “You’re talking bollocks; blokes were never interested in me before, so why should they start now I’ve got you? I don’t want anyone else.”
Gene gave up temporarily, happy for the reassurance, not that he’d ever doubted. When he tried later that night to warn Sam again about the impression he gave with those tight trousers and the melting smile he seemed to think Gene was joking and took it as an invitation to investigate their effect on Gene.
But watching Sam now, standing dreamily next to the hopeful-looking Greek, Gene could practically see the sign over his head, gleaming in the sunshine reflected off the water. It said “I like alpha males” or, as Gene often thought of it, “I could be yours, big boy”, and it had materialised the day Sam had chosen Gene’s arms and Gene’s bed.
Gene knew that Sam himself was completely unaware of it.
The big Greek could certainly see it, or would have done if he’d raised his eyes from Sam’s trunks. For his own safety, Sam would have to know one day, Gene thought. He wasn’t looking forward to making Sam understand that other men wanted him just as much as Gene did.
* * *
Sam only realised he was thinking about Gene again when he felt his cock twitch and noticed the man next to him glance down. Summoning up visions of Ray and Phyllis, Sam climbed the tower for his last dive. The Greek, noticed only by Gene, watched him all the way.
Sam surfaced at the edge of the diving area and swam another length before clambering out of the water near the cafe. He raised a hand to Gene, who had temporarily abandoned his paper to watch, and indicated the changing rooms. Gene nodded in acknowledgement as Sam walked away, while behind him the Greek entered the water with rather more show and splash than most people would consider necessary.
* * *
Gene reached for his coffee when the Greek followed Sam into the changing rooms, intending to follow straight away. Then, thinking better of it, he put the cup down unfinished. He’d allow a few minutes for things to develop before he intervened, make Sam see for himself what he was so good at stirring up. He might even be wrong, though he doubted it.
Five minutes later, Gene finished his coffee then walked casually round the pool and into the changing rooms. It wasn’t that Gene didn’t trust Sam; he did, totally. And, good copper that he was, Sam wasn’t likely to get into a situation he couldn’t handle. Gene just thought he’d better get there before Sam handled it in proper Hyde fashion - caution, cuffs and all.
Pushing the door closed very quietly, he could hear Sam’s side of an intense conversation. The other man’s voice was a low, dark-voiced mutter.
“...no, sorry mate, you misunderstood.”
“---”
“Well you were wrong. I’m not...”
Gene heard the man laugh mockingly.
“---”
“Really, I’m not interested. Sorry. Hey!”
Gene grabbed the door quickly and let it bang shut. “Sam? You in here?”
Walking round the corner he saw the Greek step away from Sam and glance towards Gene. Gene hooked both thumbs in his belt and stood looking at him. “On your way. He’s not interested.”
The Greek looked back at Sam who didn’t seem to know where to look. Receiving no encouragement the man walked out angrily.
“You OK?” Gene kept his face blank and his voice light.
Sam walked forward and faced up to him, pointing a finger at his face. “Do you mind not talking for me? I was just about to send him on his way.”
“Thought I’d better help you sort things out before you started arresting him, Gladys.” Gene took the locker key out of Sam’s hand and turned away.
Sam spoke to his back. “Help me? What, you think I couldn’t handle it?”
Gene took the bag out of the locker and shoved it at Sam. “I know you could handle it, Sam, it’s just how you were gonna handle it. You go telling him you’re a police officer and you’d never have been able to come here again. He’d be down here all the time, provoking the bendy copper, trying to get you to react until you end up arresting him or something. And then how are you going to explain what you’re arresting him for?”
Sam sat down and looked at Gene mutely. Gene could see he was thinking about that one and spoke more gently. “You’d have ended up being approached everywhere you went, Sam. So unless you actually want to stand up at the Town Hall on market day and tell everyone and his missis, this is the best way. Let me handle it.”
Seeing Sam shiver in his wet trunks, Gene opened his kit bag and started rummaging, glancing sideways at Sam. “ ’Sides, if you’re going to start arresting every man that fancies you, you’ll need to give us time to build some more cells.”
Sam gaped at him.
“What, d’yer think I’m the only man in the world that fancies you?” Gene found Sam’s towel in the bag and passed it over. “Look, get dressed for God’s sake, this isn’t the best place to be discussing this.”
Sam stood up and started to dry himself off quickly, still looking stunned.
Gene laughed at the look on his face and said “Yer gorgeous, you bloody idiot, haven’t you seen the way they look at you?” And I wish I hadn’t said that.
He leaned against the wall and watched Sam pull up those tempting trousers. “Why d’you think I stick so close all the time? If Rathbone was 20 years younger...”
“What, you don’t trust me, you’re making sure I don’t get a chance to talk to anyone else?” Sam paused with one arm in his shirt. “Hold on a minute – Rathbone?”
Gene ignored him. “Of course I trust you, and I wouldn’t try to stop you talking to whoever you want. I’m just protecting you, you great twat.”
Sam starting doing up his shirt buttons as he asked again. “You said Rathbone. And what do you mean, protecting me?”
Gene took Sam’s jacket out of the locker. “He fancies you.” He held onto it, subconsciously inhaling the Sam-smell as he turned back to face Sam. ”Can’t believe you hadn’t noticed”.
Sam shuddered before asking “How the hell do you know?” He sat down to put on his boots, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“Can see it when he looks at you, Sam”.
Gene could see Sam practically gag at the idea; he was right, it just didn’t bear thinking about. Sam grabbed his bag and jacket and headed out of the changing room. Gene grimaced, following his thoughts unerringly, but waited until they were outside the building before reassuring him:
“He’s not going to touch you, Sam, don’t worry. For one thing, you’re probably too junior – best to only go down one rank, it’s far too dangerous else. And for another thing,” Gene hesitated and took a deep breath, ”He knows you’re mine.”
* * *
Sam stopped dead. “You told him about us? Gene!”
“Of course I didn’t tell him, you daft twat! I just saw him looking at you and I - looked back. I had no choice. He thought nobody knew about him, but I’ve known for years, and now he understands that, you’re safe.”
Sam couldn’t move. All this time, he’d thought this was private, nobody’s business but his and Gene’s. And Gene was boasting about it to the likes of Rathbone!
“Come on Gladys, you’re gonna get cold.” Gene said, pulling him towards the car. “He hadn’t guessed about me, ‘cos I’ve never been with anyone from work before, but he’s not going to say anything; he’s got more to lose than I have.”
Most of this went past Sam as he still struggled with the idea that Gene was ...protecting... him; exchanging little signals with people about him.
He said “Don’t you think you’re taking a lot on yourself here, Gene? Telling people like Rathbone? Warning people off? What happens if I want to ... talk to someone else?
* * *
Gene flinched, wishing he hadn’t opened Sam’s eyes to how many people fancied him. Still, he’d have worked it out eventually.
“I’m a bloody police officer, Gene, d’you think I’m going to fold up if someone talks dirty to me? I can handle it for God’s sake, just butt out.”
They were at the car by now, and Sam was practically yelling.
“You’re missing the point, Sam.” Gene got in the car and leaned over to open Sam’s door. As Sam got in he continued “You have no idea how many important people would like to shag you, and if you piss ’em off handling it badly, it won’t be them all over the papers, it’ll be you. I know you can handle it, of course I do, but it’s how you handle it, and how much you have to handle.“
“I’m just trying to say, Sam, you need to be careful. Since you’ve been with me you’re attracting a lot of attention.” Gene looked away uncomfortably and stared out of the windscreen. “It’s your pretty arse in those tight trousers. I mean, I love looking at your arse, who wouldn’t. But that’s the point, isn’t it. People see you parading around in those and they think that’s a message. And then you smile at them and they know it is.”
Gene dried up, not wanting to acknowledge even to himself how he’d like to keep Sam covered up, away from the gaze of men who might be a better catch than he was.
“I smile at them? And wear tight trousers?” Sam looked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And they think I’m encouraging them?”
“Well, it’s enough for some people” Gene answered. “Me mam would have got a smack for less.”
Sam looked blank, then disbelieving. “Are you threatening me, Gene?”
“For God’s sake Tyler, you always have to make a drama out of everything. ‘Course I’m bloody not; I’m just saying that’s all. I’m not me Dad, I’d never ...well, only at work, and only scum. And they deserve it,” he finished defensively.
Sam now looked incredulous, which was only a fancier word for the same thing, so feeling on slightly shifting ground, Gene tried once more to get the point home.
“I’m just saying, be careful who you smile at.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. We’re not discussing this any more. Take us home and I’ll show you you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“You’re still missing the point Sam,” Gene snapped, starting the engine. ”I’m not trying to protect my interests - I’m trying to protect you.”
* * *
For God’s sake, Gene was acting like something out of the dark ages. Sam sat silent for a moment; he’d worked out a long time ago that Gene needed to be the strong one, and Sam loved him enough to let him take that role, against his own natural inclination. But not any more, not if it meant that he had to be the weak one. Not if it meant Gene thought he could start telling him how to dress and how to behave.
Sam knew his personality had been muted ever since he’d got here - his crazy situation, the fact that he was now only a DI, and to a fist-happy Neanderthal at that, and finally because Sam was sincerely committed to Gene, and he hadn’t thought Gene, as a man of the ‘70s, was ready for a relationship of equals. But this; this was...
Finally he said “I’m asking you nicely, Gene. Take us home, please.”
“But Sam... “
He exploded. “Just drive, Gene! I mean it – home, now!”
* * *
Sam’s voice was deep and dark, with extraordinary volume, like Gene had never heard him use before; his tone was one that Maya, and the rest of his 2006 subordinates, would have recognised instantly. Trouble.
Gene’s hands and feet had the Cortina moving out of the car park long before his brain had caught up with the fact that he was obeying his DI’s orders.
The moment they walked through Gene’s – no, their – front door, Sam was giving orders again. “Upstairs, Gene. We’re gonna sort this out right now.”
His anger still building, Sam slammed the bedroom door and in an extension of the movement, slammed Gene against the wall. Taken aback, Gene stood still for a moment before shoving Sam off. Unusually, Sam didn’t back off, but came forward again, still radiating power and anger. He even looked bigger than usual.
“How dare you patronise me, you fucking Neanderthal! I am not your fucking wife, I am a police officer, and I do not need protecting!”
He grabbed Gene’s right arm and twisted it viciously up behind his back as he turned Gene round and shoved him towards the bed.
Gene wasn’t remotely frightened of Sam or anything he might do, but he was completely taken aback at this new side to his personality.
This wasn’t his Gladys, always nagging at Gene to tidy up the paperwork and do things the Hyde way; and this certainly wasn’t the scared and tentative - but so adorable - Sam who only three months ago had needed to get Gene drunk before he dared kiss him.
The man almost dislocating his shoulder wasn’t even Tyler, Gene’s favourite picky-pain DI and part-time madman.
Although he didn’t know it, Gene was being frog-marched across the room by Detective Chief Inspector Samuel Tyler, who funnily enough hadn’t got his badge from a Lucky Bag either. And he was used to wielding authority, if never before quite as physically as this. In his 21st-century way he’d been even harder than Gene, before his life turned inside out.
Now he shoved Gene onto the bed, face first. “Trousers. Off. NOW!” he yelled.
There was an almost feral strength to Sam, and Gene had to think whether to go with it or challenge it. Before he could decide, Sam had punched him in the right kidney; Gene was astounded at how much it actually hurt, but hearing the click of the lid on the lube tin hastened to get his trousers out of the way. Sam ripped open his own trousers, pushed them down and took barely a moment to coat himself and Gene’s entrance before shoving himself in hard and fast.
Gene could only be grateful that they had tried this before, albeit not often. Sam had always seemed happy to take it rather than give it, although he had suggested once or twice that they swap round. Gene had gone along with it, although it definitely challenged his ideas of himself as a man. It had felt all wrong to be bottoming for someone smaller and younger than himself; his junior at work for God’s sake.
Now he concentrated on breathing steadily, pushing back to hold himself open as much as possible; trying to make himself comfortable as Sam paused for a moment.
* * *
“Oh ... God”.
Sam felt some of the incredible anger dissolving in Gene’s heat, replaced by the blind need to fuck, hard. He let his head fall forward as he started to move.
“Sweet Jesus, that’s so tight.”
He hadn’t felt such incredible blessed tightness for a long time. He wasn’t going to last long; he was almost at explosion point already.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fucking hell.”
He was moving fast now, faster, forcing himself deeper and deeper, moving his hands to Gene’s back, grabbing his shirt.
“Oh Jesus, that’s so hot”
Sam couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate on anything except the need to push, thrust, hard. His hips moved back and forth, faster, harder.
“Fuck, fuck, Gene, oh my God.”
His cock was pulling him forwards, Gene’s buttocks hot against his groin, his entire consciousness cocooned tightly inside Gene,
“I can’t... I’m gonna ...”
and then his pelvis arched; for a long moment he couldn’t move; he was being dragged to the edge of reason, straining forwards as his cock swelled,
“Oh Christ, Gene, Gene, oh my God...”
the heat unbelievably tight around him and then something broke; he could feel each spurt, each exquisite expansion and contraction as he poured everything he had into Gene.
“... Gene!”
Sam clung onto Gene’s shirt as he came as hard as he ever had in his life, then collapsed onto Gene’s back, panting. As his cock softened, he pulled out, then rolled off Gene to lie next to him. For a few minutes there was silence apart from Sam’s heart hammering in his ears.
Eventually, he heard Gene’s voice, deliberately calm. “So, do I get mine any time soon, Sam?” Only a slight hitch in his breathing signalled his tension.
“Shit, Gene, I’m sorry,” Sam murmured. He didn’t have the energy to move, but he reached over and touched Gene’s fingers gently, not yet ready to look at him. “Did I hurt you?”
“Nothing I won’t get you back for later, Gla... Sam, don’t worry about that.” He felt Gene’s hand tighten on his fingers.
Sam lay for a while drifting hazily until he realised Gene’s breathing had changed. He was stroking himself, the tension in his body vibrating the entire bed as he gasped for breath. His grip was painful on Sam’s fingers. “Give a bloke a hand, Sam” he said raggedly “I don’t expect ... to do me own barking.”
Taking the hint, Sam gathered himself and leaned over Gene, extending his tongue delicately to tease Gene’s left nipple. Gene groaned and moved his hand back towards his cock, fingers fluttering as he fought the need to touch himself again. His buttocks tightened as Sam smiled into his eyes then moved his attentions to the other side. “Bastard!” Gene gasped, clawing desperately at the sheets as Sam continued to tease first one nipple then the other.
Gene’s whole body was shuddering by the time Sam relented and took Gene’s cock in his mouth, flickering his tongue teasingly around the tip. “For fuck’s sake, Sam!” Gene said hoarsely. “Please...”
At last, Sam twined his arms around Gene’s warm hips and took him as far into his mouth as he could, causing Gene to lose control completely. His yell as he came made Sam smile.
Sam woke to find Gene dressing. As Sam hadn’t given him time to undress in the first place, it didn’t take long, and Gene turned to face him. He wasn’t smiling.
“You bastard,” he accused Sam. ”What was all that about? Getting your own back? Proving how strong you are?”
Sam had to admit there’d been an element of that. All that stuff, Gene protecting him, making signals at people about him, hadn’t made him feel good about himself. Or about Gene, come to that. OK, the part of him that still got the warm fuzzies from knowing that he belonged to Gene was coping with it quite well. But who he really was, deep down, hadn’t changed, and that man wasn’t at all happy with being treated as some air-headed ninny. He tried to explain it to Gene.
“It’s like you think I don’t need to bother my pretty little head about it or something.”
“It’s not meant like that, Sammy,“ said Gene looking puzzled. ”It’s just, when someone goes to try it on I put ‘em right before you’re bothered with it.” He looked at Sam, hurt. “You should have said if you didn’t like it and I’d have explained; it’s nothing sinister. It’s for you, Sam.” He reached into his top pocket for his cigarettes
Sam sat up and stared at him. “Be reasonable, Gene! If things are going on that I don’t know about, I can’t tell you I don’t like them, can I!” He caught himself on the edge of fury again, and leaned back against the pillows in an effort to calm down. “At the very least, Gene, please, tell me these things. Look, I’m not upset about you looking after me, it’s just – I don’t like this assumption that I need looking after and that I don’t need to know about it.”
Gene was silent, looking over the top of his lighter at Sam. He flicked it and lit his cigarette, still looking at Sam as if trying to work out what to say. Finally, he said “It wouldn’t work, Sam. If I came home every night and said ‘Listen to what I’ve done for you today, I’ve protected you from Rathbone, I’ve given some bloke the evil eye for looking at you – it wouldn’t work, would it? You’d be thinking I was expecting you to be grateful, and that’s not how it is. We’d end up arguing, Sammy, you’d end up resenting me.”
He stepped forward, leaning over the bed, and traced Sam’s mouth with one finger.
“And while we’re talking about things people could have told other people: you could have told me who you really are.“ Sam tensed. “I’ve never seen you like that before, Sam. It was like a different man.”
Sam relaxed and laughed gently, reaching up to run a proprietary hand over Gene’s arse.
“No, I don’t mean like that Gl... Sam. I mean – the voice, the strength, the ... shit, you’re the words man, I’m just a simple old-fashioned copper.” Gene looked questioningly at Sam. ”You were different then, you know you were.”
Sam sat up as he thought about it, thought about how to explain. Opted for simple, if not complete, truth. “OK, I admit, I might have been holding it in a bit. Didn’t want to be challenging you at home as well as at work. Thought that might be too much for you.”
“Well, don’t bother on my account Sammy-boy, I’ll cope.” As he walked towards the bathroom he said over his shoulder “Just be yourself from now on, OK?”
By the time Gene came downstairs, Sam had put out mugs and the kettle was boiling.
Gene sat down at the table and ladled sugar into his mug. “Not too proud to make the tea then, Sammy-boy, now you’ve got your manhood back. Not allowed to call you Gladys any more I suppose?” He looked at Sam, his face unreadable.
Sam put the kettle down carefully. “Look, you didn’t explain why you would think I need protecting in the first place”.
Gene sighed.
“It’s just, at the station,” he began, “Doesn’t matter what you think, I’m your DCI, and that makes some things my responsibility, not yours. No DI, even if he does come from Hyde, can go up against someone like Rathbone and survive.”
“But the other stuff; I never thought; you coming late into this, you don’t know how it is. You attract the powerful ones, Sam, the men who’re used to getting whatever they want. They look at you, and then they look at me, and they see someone older than you, and bigger than you, and they expect me to protect you, to keep them off.”
“And if they don’t see me protecting you, then they’ll assume you’re fair game.” Gene sat back and stared at Sam, willing him to understand. “And believe me, Sam, you don’t want that. I’m not going to apologise for protecting you. You’re mine and I have to, that’s just how it is.”
He smiled, and touched Sam’s hand gently. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m yours, always, every bit as much as you’re mine. Here in this house we belong to each other.” He pushed his mug forward. “And now you’re making me go soppy. Hurry up and pour that bloody tea so we can go to the pub.”
Sam thought about it; he hadn’t been aware he attracted anyone, never mind “the powerful ones”, but here was Gene understanding it, taking it for granted and dealing with it for him. It still didn’t feel right, but perhaps now he knew the facts he didn’t need all the details? He wasn’t at all sure about that, but decided to let it ride for now.
They drove to the pub in a silence that had slightly more of an edge than usual. Sam was still mulling over the idea of Gene protecting him, and Gene was lost in his own thoughts. Unusually, Gene didn’t open his door the instant the engine stopped. They sat in silence for a moment, then Gene spoke. “So, did you like it better on top then?”
Sam smiled reminiscently. “Didn’t realise how much I’d missed it.” he said.
Beside him, he heard Gene take a tiny, sharp breath, instantly stifled, as if in pain.
Realising how it had sounded, Sam said “Hey,” as he looked across at Gene, who refused to meet his eye but spoke to the floor.
“I wish I’d never said anything about all those other men fancying you. But I had to, you have to know to keep yourself out of trouble.” He looked at Sam unhappily. “And now you know you could have anyone you wanted...”
Sam interrupted forcefully ”I have, you twat. Don’t you get it, I want you. I didn’t just “settle” for this, you know, thinking it was the only offer I’d get! I fought against this for months, then it was months again before I got up the nerve to do anything. I’d never wanted a man before; you know this, Gene”.
He leaned forward and kissed Gene softly on the mouth, easing his tongue gently between his teeth, as his hand moved slowly down the length of Gene’s body to his groin.
Lifting his mouth from Gene’s he placed a tiny kiss on the tip of Gene’s nose. “I am not planning to go back to women. And nor am I interested in experimenting with other men. It’s you that I want. Always. And only.”
He thought a moment and looked at Gene. “What about your other blokes, before me? Did they let you down? Is that where this is coming from?”
“No,” Gene said. “You’re not my first, you know that, but you’re the first that’s mattered. Never cared about a bloke before, it was just a bit of relief. Week or two, couple of shags, move on.” He shifted round to look at Sam properly.
“That sounds like there were hundreds, but having to think of me job all the time – well, it limits the opportunities. And like I said, none of them mattered.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Sam reassured him. “Except on top sometimes.” He grinned suddenly. “Why d’you think you couldn’t call me Gladys any more, you daft sod?”.
“Hardly seemed the thing any more Sam, you getting all masterful and all.”
“Well, don’t worry about it. I like it.” He tried to analyse why being called by a variety of girls’ names made him feel good, then he put both hands up to Gene’s face and kissed him firmly. “I’m used to it now. And it’s – well, no-one else has ever called me that. Obviously. And no other bastard ever will, only you. So it’s special, it’s ...us.
“And the best thing is, you can call me Gladys in front of the lads and no-one thinks anything of it. But I know. When you call me Gladys it’s all about you and me, Gene. You call me Gladys and it’s like you’re calling me ‘love’ in front of everybody.” He kissed Gene again and turned to open his door. “Come on, last to the bar’s a sissy.”
“You would know” retorted Gene, getting out and straightening his coat.
As they walked in together, Ray called from the corner table “Guv, are you in? Saved a chair for you”.
“No thanks Ray, not just now; been sat down all day. Gonna play darts, give me arse a rest.”
Sam winced as he turned towards the bar, leaving Gene effortlessly in command of the group by the dartboard. Nelson was just drawing the second pint when there was a roar from the corner.
“Oi, Gladys! Haven’t you got them drinks in yet? Hurry up and get your sorry arse over here; you can choose the next game.”
Sam couldn’t stop the broad grin spreading across his face as he met Gene’s eyes briefly before turning back to the bar.
~ ~ ~