For the Love of Luke

by David C. Dawson

Rupert was puzzling over what was behind Luke’s reply when a follow-up message arrived: But very straight. Followed by a sad-faced emoji. Rupert’s laugh brought a look of panic to the face of an elderly woman walking toward him, and she gave him a wide berth as they passed each other.

  The five lanes of traffic on South Lambeth Road were stopped at the lights, and he quickly wove his way across the lines of stationery vehicles to the other side of the street. Paton Road was fifty yards down to the right. Rupert looked down at his phone and began to compose a reply to Luke.

  “Mr. Pendley-Evans.”

  Rupert looked up and stopped abruptly. His path was blocked by the same man who had accosted him outside Broadcasting House earlier.

  “Are you stalking me?” asked Rupert.

  “Not at all,” replied the man. “But I need to speak to you urgently. Can we talk now?”

  “If it’s about Luke, I’m going back there right now,” said Rupert. “Why don’t you come and say whatever it is you have to say to both of us?”

  The man took a step back and shook his head with exaggerated emphasis.

  “Oh no, no, no. Not a good idea.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card.

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “I can meet you anywhere. Anytime. Call me on this number. It’s imperative you don’t tell Luke.”

  He pushed the small white card into Rupert’s hand and walked on quickly. Rupert spun around.

  “Wait,” he called after the retreating figure. “What the hell is all this about?”

  The man broke into a run and nimbly wove between the lines of slow-moving traffic on South Lambeth Road. Rupert stopped at the side of the street. If he gave chase now, it would make him even later for the meeting with the insurance assessor. He looked down at the business card he had been left with. On it was written the name Christian Mark Matthews, followed by a mobile telephone number. There was no address. No company name. Rupert shoved the card into his pocket, turned, and headed for Paton Road. Despite what the man had said, Rupert was determined to discuss it with Luke when he got back home.

  LUKE WAS right. The insurance assessor was certainly hot. He was sitting on a solitary wooden chair in the entrance hall of number 54 when Rupert pushed open the front door. In his late twenties and well over six feet tall, he wore black motorcycle leathers. His jacket was open and revealed a white T-shirt beneath. He stepped forward and extended his hand in greeting.

  “Mr. Pendley-Evans?” said the assessor. “My name’s Jack Alexander, from Bradshaws.”

  Jack had a firm handshake. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and they ran down the sides of his face. The front of his white T-shirt was wet and clung to his skin. It highlighted the definition of his well-developed pectoral muscles. Jack released Rupert’s hand and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his leather jacket.

  “Apologies for being like this,” he said. “It’s bloody hot on a motorbike in this weather. But you’ve got to wear the leathers, haven’t you? Especially in London. I’m on the bike ’cause my wife’s due imminently with our second child. I’m on standby to get back home if the baby starts to come.”

  “No problem,” replied Rupert. “I’m a biker myself. Is that your Triumph parked outside?”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” said Jack. He picked up his helmet and small rucksack from the hall floor. “And is that your BMW? Very nice. I really should get rid of my bike. Now I’m a father.”

  “Oh, don’t do that,” said Rupert. He took his keys out of his pocket, opened the front door of his apartment, and turned to look at Jack. “We could go for a ride out sometime.”

  “Really?” asked Jack. He followed Rupert into the apartment. “This probably sounds really naff, but you’re the guy on the news, aren’t you? The one who did the story last year about the end of the Royal Family?”

  Rupert sighed. He was never going to shrug off the notoriety the story had created for him. And why had he just made a pass at Jack? It was clearly true what Luke said. The man was very straight. He had a wife and nearly two children. But for Rupert, when confronted with a sexy man like Jack, it was almost instinctive. Perhaps he better stick to the matter at hand.

  “It’s the bedroom ceiling,” he said. “Follow me.”

  He led the way down the corridor to his bedroom and pushed open the door. A musty, damp smell hit his nostrils immediately.

  “Oh wow,” said Jack. He stood in the doorway and looked around the room. “It’s a hell of a mess, isn’t it?”

  He set his rucksack on the floor, opened it, and pulled out a tablet computer and a camera.

  “This won’t take long,” he continued. “I’ll just check through the form you completed over the phone the other day and take a few photos. Then I’ll be off.”

  He began to take photographs of the water damage. Rupert backed out of his way, unable to take his eyes off Jack’s figure-hugging leathers as he crouched down to get a good angle.

  “Hey, guys. I thought I heard voices.”

  Rupert looked up to see Luke’s face peering through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Jack turned and waved an acknowledgment.

  “Hi, Mr. Diamond,” he said. “Thanks for your help earlier.” He looked across at Rupert. “You didn’t tell me this guy was a TV star.”

  Jack winked at Rupert, who was taken aback when a glow of embarrassment warmed his cheeks. The emotion caught him by surprise. He could usually maintain a mask of serene composure.

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Rupert,” said Luke. “Hey. While you’re there, do you think you could get those things from your bedroom we needed the other night? You don’t want to make a second journey.”

  Luke gave a broad grin and tapped the side of his nose. “I’ll be ready whenever you are.” His face disappeared from the hole in the ceiling.

  Rupert looked across to see Jack wink at him again. That glow of embarrassment turned from warm to red hot. Rupert awkwardly attempted a smile and hurriedly left the bedroom.

  Chapter 16

  WHEN RUPERT entered Luke’s apartment twenty minutes later, he could hear a track playing by the same American artist from the night before. He checked that his mobile was switched to silent and put it down on the hall table.

  “Let’s be happy together, your dreams become mine, as my dreams become yours….”

  Rupert slipped off his jacket and hung it on one of the coat hooks fixed to the wall by the front door. He walked down the hallway to the living room and pushed open the door.

  “Luke?”

  There was no sign of the American. Rupert dumped his rucksack on the floor. He bent down and pulled a small wash bag from it. He stood up and walked back down the corridor to his bedroom.

  “Together in everything we hear and see. Together from now until eternity….”

  “Luke?”

  Rupert paused at the entrance to his bedroom and turned to the door opposite. The door to Luke’s bedroom. It was open a few inches, and Rupert could see the room was in semidarkness. The rhythmic whap-whap of the rotary fan was the only sound from within. He eased the door open wider. The curtains were almost completely closed. A narrow slit between them allowed a shaft of late-afternoon sun to fall across the bed. On it lay the naked form of Luke. He was on his front, his face turned toward the door. When the hinges creaked, his eyes opened, and he looked up at Rupert.

  “Hey, sexy Englishman,” he said in a sleepy voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off like that.” He rolled over on his back, put one arm behind his head, and gave Rupert a lopsided smile. “I wanted to be ready for you when you returned.”

  Rupert looked down the length of Luke’s body to his erect penis.

  “Looks like you are ready for me,” said Rupert. “I don’t think I’ve done sex in the afternoon for a long time.”

  Luke slid across the bed away from Rupert and patted the space beside him. Rupert stepped from the doorway. He dropped the wash bag beside Luke and stood next to the bed.

 
; “The essential supplies you asked for.”

  Luke unzipped the bag and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a handful of condoms.

  “Large,” he said, appreciatively. “Well, I guessed that was the case last night.”

  He sat up and cleared the bag and its contents onto the cabinet next to the bed. Then he turned over, slid back across the mattress toward Rupert, and pulled himself into a kneeling position. His face was a few inches away from Rupert’s. He leaned forward, and they kissed. Gently at first, their soft lips colluded in subtle connection. Luke twisted his head, parted his lips, and extended his tongue in a slow exploration of Rupert’s mouth.

  Rupert reached for the buttons of his shirt and began to unfasten them one by one. Luke’s warm hands slid under his shirt and reached for the buckle of his belt. Rupert abandoned his shirt buttons and put his arms around Luke’s shoulders. He pulled the American’s head closer to his, opened his mouth wider, and thrust his tongue deep into Luke’s mouth.

  Luke clasped his hands on either side of Rupert’s head, pushed it back firmly, and held it a few inches away from him. He stared intently at Rupert’s eyes, his breath brushing Rupert’s face with rapid gusts of moist, warm air.

  “I want you to fuck me,” he whispered. “On the edge of the bed. And I want to be able to look deep into your eyes as you do.”

  He pulled Rupert’s head close, and Rupert lovingly scanned every contour, every imperfection, every line of beauty of Luke’s face. He used his thumbs to trace the hollows beneath Luke’s prominent cheekbones, while Luke ran his fingertips slowly around the edge of Rupert’s sharply defined beard down to the flat edge of his chin.

  Luke lowered his head and used his tongue to map the taut muscles of Rupert’s neck. Several times he opened his mouth and pulled on the flesh, tender love bites that drew gratifying sounds of pleasure from Luke. An erotic wave spiraled from Rupert’s neck, down through his chest, and into his groin. His cock swelled tight against his briefs, as though impatient to be released. Luke expertly undid the remaining buttons of Rupert’s shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. He continued to slide his tongue down Rupert’s torso until he arrived at his right nipple, where he lingered to engulf it in a damp, fervent embrace.

  Rupert moaned in appreciation. He rapidly tugged his arms out of the sleeves of his shirt and flung it to the floor. He placed his hands on Luke’s inner thighs, close to his groin, and massaged the soft flesh with his fingertips. His fingernails abraded the skin, and the action brought a satisfying groan of gratitude from Luke. He slid his tongue across Rupert’s broad chest and stimulated his left nipple as he held it delicately with his teeth.

  “Fuck.” Rupert exhaled the word in a slow, ecstatic release. “My nipples are directly connected to my cock. You’re fucking good at that.”

  Luke repositioned himself to sit on the edge of the bed, with his feet flat on the floor. He rapidly unbuttoned Rupert’s fly and pulled both his trousers and briefs down to his knees in one swift move. With his arms supporting him on the bed, he sat back to admire Rupert’s hardened cock, gently pulsing in front of him.

  “Damn, it’s large,” he said with admiration. “I’m gonna have to get lubed up to feel that deep inside me.”

  Luke lay back on the bed and reached an arm behind his head to find the small canister of lubricant. He edged forward, raised his legs high in the air, and used the gel to prepare himself. Rupert kicked off his shoes and struggled to get his trousers and briefs the rest of the way off. He hopped from one leg to the other as the tight-fitting cloth grudgingly released him.

  Luke peered between his legs at the spectacle and laughed. “Socks, Rupert. I’m certain I’ve never been fucked by a man wearing nothing but his socks before, and for sure I’m not going to start now.”

  Rupert looked down and shrugged. “I hoped you might have lived in England long enough to understand our sexual deviancies.” He bent down and pulled off his socks. “Okay, then. Just for you.”

  He lifted his bare foot to rest on the edge of the bed between Luke’s legs. From there, he pointed his toes downward until the ball of his foot met Luke’s cock. He arched his tendons to apply pressure, and Luke stiffened and flexed beneath him. Luke released a sigh that embraced contentment and anticipation in a single exhaled breath.

  Rupert took hold of Luke’s legs, which were still raised high in the air, and rested them on his shoulders. Luke raised his torso and leaned forward, his abdominal muscles pulling taut as he reached for Rupert with a condom in his hand. He slid the sheath carefully over the head of Rupert’s engorged penis. A look of concentration crossed the American’s face as he slid the edges of the condom down the full length of Rupert’s cock. Luke applied lube to the condom and spread it over the tip. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft of Rupert’s penis and spread the lube liberally along its length. Rupert leaned back as the persistent stimulation generated an ecstatic wave deep inside his body.

  Luke guided Rupert’s cock gently, yet firmly, into place. The two men gazed at each other for several seconds before Luke finally spoke.

  “This feels so right, Rupert,” he said. “It must be the greatest expression of trust and affection two men can show for each other. I need you deep inside me. Now.”

  Rupert breathed deeply. He was used to urgent, animal lovemaking. This was altogether more sensuous. More measured. More… loving. He slowly thrust his pelvis forward and entered Luke.

  THE BEDROOM was in semidarkness, lit by the glow of a single street lamp shining through the gap between the curtains. Rupert blinked several times and peered into the gloom. Luke lay beside him with his back to Rupert. He had pulled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms tight around a pillow. Rupert ran his fingers gently along the smooth, firm skin of Luke’s exposed forearm. The American’s breathing quickened, and he released a contented sigh. Rupert slipped his arm under Luke’s, pulled his body in close, and allowed his torso to follow the curve of Luke’s back. The warmth of his skin and the even rhythm of his breathing were comforting and calming. Rupert kissed the nape of Luke’s neck and tasted the residual saltiness of dried sweat on his skin.

  He kissed Luke’s neck again. He stirred, and stretched his body against Rupert’s, compressing his cock and causing it to stiffen once more.

  “Hey, sexy Englishman,” said Luke. He yawned. “Are you wanting more? I’m not sure I can manage right now.”

  Rupert kissed Luke’s neck a third time and held him tight.

  “I’m good like this,” replied Rupert. “For someone who says he can’t remember anything, you’ve got one hell of a muscle memory somewhere inside that sexy body of yours. I’ve not had sex as good as that. Ever, I think.”

  Luke raised his arms and turned his body gently until he faced Rupert. Their foreheads rested against each other’s, and Rupert could see Luke’s deep brown eyes glint in the sodium-yellow light of the street lamp.

  “Do you think I’m better than the cute insurance man from this afternoon?” asked Luke.

  “What on earth made you think of him?” Rupert pulled his head back to stare at Luke in puzzlement. “I hardly gave him a second look. Especially when he talked so much about his wife and family. He’s straight.”

  Luke stretched his head forward and kissed Rupert on the lips. He rested his forehead against Rupert’s again and sighed. “Oh, but if you could turn him? Wouldn’t you be tempted?”

  Rupert shook his head. “People are the sexuality they are, Luke. It’s not a choice. They can’t be ‘turned.’”

  Luke pouted and wrinkled his nose. “You’re right, I guess. I’m just being dumb.” He reached forward and kissed Rupert again. “I’m so glad I flooded your bedroom. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had three of the happiest nights of my life.”

  “You’re a beautiful, passionate, and tender lover.” Rupert punctuated each adjective with a kiss to Luke’s lips. “That’s surely not the first time for you? Have you really no memory?”

  Luke groa
ned, nestled in closer to Rupert, and ran his hand gently down the side of Rupert’s face. “I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve been a very bad boy, and I’ve blanked a guilty past from my memory.”

  “That reminds me,” said Rupert. “I’ve been warned off you. Twice today.”

  Luke pulled his head back to stare at Rupert. “What do you mean?”

  Rupert rose to lean on one elbow. “There was this guy. Once outside the BBC and then again this afternoon when I was coming back here. He told me I’d damage you if I continued to see you.”

  Luke sat up. He turned and reached to switch on the bedside light. Rupert shut his eyes against the sudden glare.

  “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” asked Luke. “Who was he? Did you ask him why?”

  Rupert sat up as well and slowly reopened his eyes. He shielded them with his hands and peered through the splay of his fingers at Luke. The American was staring at him, his eyes wild with alarm.

  “Hey, hey,” said Rupert. He reached out and put an arm around Luke’s shoulder, placed his free hand on the side of Luke’s head, pulled it toward him, and stroked it gently. “It’s okay. I don’t know who he is. He gave me his card, and I was planning to call him to fix a meeting tomorrow. I want to talk to him. Maybe he can give us some clue about your memory loss.”

  Luke lifted his head away and stared at Rupert with a look of fear in his eyes. “What if we find out something terrible? Maybe I’ve done something really bad in the past. If that’s true, I don’t think I want to know. Do you?”

  Chapter 17

  RUPERT STARED forlornly at the handwritten message on the noticeboard in the entrance to Vauxhall Tube station.

  We are sorry, but all northbound Victoria Line trains are suspended due to a person under a train at Oxford Circus.

  Rupert needed to be in Islington by nine o’clock. He was meeting the head of research at the charity Manwatch. The journey by Tube would have taken at most twenty minutes. His only alternative was a taxi. At this time of day, it would be a slow journey. At least forty minutes, if not more. He was going to be late. Again. He swore out loud, and several passengers around him nodded in mutual melancholy.