by Lily Morton
I point to the outline of a heart on his hip. Half of the heart outline is made up of rainbow coloured stars and the other half is made from the words ‘love is love’. It’s beautifully done. “When did you get that one?”
He twists to look at it. “A few years ago with Bram in Amsterdam. A friend of ours from school has a shop there and he did it.”
“I’m surprised that Bram didn’t want his name there,” I say lightly as I strip off my polo shirt leaving me in my burnt orange board shorts.
He snorts. “He did suggest that I have the words ‘Bram O’Connell is the best man that I’ve ever met’ put there but I managed to dissuade him.”
“I don’t think that’s far from the truth anyway,” I muse as we stride towards the water eagerly, but he throws his arm round me pulling me to a stop and ruffling my hair affectionately.
“Might have been true once,” he says softly. “I don’t think it is anymore.”
Warmth flows through me and I open my mouth to ask a question but he’s gone, diving into the cool water with a shout of happiness. We swim happily for half an hour enjoying the water and looking at the many fish that swim around us too used to never seeing anybody to view us as a threat. Finally we walk back to our clothes and while he spreads out the towels I start unpacking the food.
“Jesus,” he sighs happily. “If I wasn’t gay I might marry Odell.”
“Well I packed it,” I say and I’m flabbergasted to hear the flirtatious note in my voice. For a long second he stares at me and the silence lengthens and thickens, but then something about my dumbstruck look must amuse him because he breaks out a wide, white smile.
“Enough flirting Johnny,” he says briskly. “Feed your man.”
I shake my head at him and start passing him food. The walk and the swim and the sea air has made us hungry, so in no time at all we’ve demolished the bacon and shallot quiche with the sausage stuffed potato galette and he finally declares a ceasefire after he’s eaten one of her individual lemon tarts.
“God that’s lovely,” he sighs. “I could eat that forever.” He lies back on his towel with a great sigh of satisfaction.
“I really don’t know why you aren’t the size of a house,” I muse, and he turns his head sideways.
“Too active I guess. Same as you. I’ve noticed that you still use the gym every day at the villa and swim.”
I nod. “I hate not having exercise.”
Silence falls for a second and I lie back next to him feeling the sun beat down on my body and listening to the sound of the gulls wheeling around and the water hitting the rocks. Finally I stir. “Do you mind if I ask you something?” I ask quietly, and he rolls to his side putting him very close to me and scrambling my brain for a second.
“You can ask me anything.”
“Anything, really?”
“Anything,” he says solemnly.
I hesitate and then go for it. “When did you realise that you were gay, and how did you really know?”
He stares at me for a long second, his eyes deep and warm. “Any particular reason that you’re asking me that?” His voice is very deep and low.
I shrug awkwardly. “I just wanted to know.”
He takes pity on me and moves to lie on his back staring up at the intensely blue sky. “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know that I was gay really. It was just this natural gradual progression at a time when everything was up in the air anyway. I just realised that a man’s body made me hard. I love women’s bodies, they’re so soft and fragile, but a man’s body is what does it for me.”
“Were you worried?”
He shoots a glance at me. “Of course I was, because I already had an inkling that it would sour things with my family. For a while I wished that a girl’s body would do it for me, and I slept with a couple of girls but it just didn’t feel right and couldn’t do much for me, so there was a sense of inevitability about it.”
“Who was your first man?”
He smiles gazing back in time, his eyes hazy. “Sam Phillips. He was the son of a neighbour of ours. He was the same age as me. We’d been friends for years and had sleepovers but they became a lot less innocent when we were fifteen.”
“Do you still see him?”
He shakes his head. “I lost contact with him when my dad threw me out. Last I heard he married a woman.” He shrugs.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, grabbing his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you think of your dad.”
He shakes his head turning his hand in mine to clasp it more firmly. His is warm and dry and big with long fingers. There is no way to mistake that I’m holding hands with a man but surprisingly I have zero desire to draw away, instead enjoying the warmth and sense of tactile closeness. Silence falls for a second as we lie staring at the sky and then I stir, remembering something that Viv said that’s lain in the back of my head since.
“Can I ask you another question?”
He looks at me. “What more?” I nod and he smiles. “Okay, ask away.”
“Who’s Ben?”
His smile instantly falls away and I immediately want to grab it back. His body stiffens for a second and I think that he’s going to turn away, but instead he turns back to me still keeping one hand in mine and resting his bandaged arm on his chest and then he smiles slightly.
“Viv I suppose?”
I nod. “She didn’t tell me anything. Just asked if I knew about him?”
“I wonder why she thought that you would know. I don’t make a habit of talking about it.”
I instantly shake my head. “Then don’t Matt. Leave it and forget that I asked.”
“No it’s alright.” He stares over my shoulder into the distance and then starts talking. “Ben was my first proper boyfriend. We met when we were sixteen.”
He looks at me and I smile encouragingly. “What was he like?”
“Oh funny and sweet and everything that I wanted at the time.”
A shaft of pain runs through me at the thought of him feeling that way about someone and I jerk slightly making him look at me curiously, but I gesture for him to carry on. “I was his first and we went out for a year.”
“Was it difficult?”
He understands what I mean and shakes his head. “Not really. I got the usual abuse from narrow minded twats, but you’ve got to remember that I was at school with all of the band apart from Seth and we all stuck together. Viv was probably the scariest.”
I laugh and he smiles. “Ben was a friend of theirs as well. We were a tight group and then -” He hesitates and I wait patiently until he’s taken a deep breath. He looks up at me determinedly. “Ben got hooked on drugs.”
“Shit!” I exclaim, having a horrible feeling where this story is going.
He nods. “Yeah. He started off with the small stuff but then gradually it got to be harder and harder shit. There was a group surrounding the band at the time that were wild and it was easy to get hold of shit. Sid was doing it too and to start with I was too concerned about him to notice Ben.” I nod. Sid Hudson is the Beggar’s Choice guitarist and Charlie’s brother and had suffered a much publicized overdose last year after years of being an addict. He sighs. “By the time that I did notice Ben he was in too far to get out and he changed rapidly. He went from being everything that I wanted to everything that I hated. He stole from me, he was dirty and lied all the time, and then I found out that he was cheating on me too.”
“Oh Matty,” I sigh. “I’m so sorry.”
“Anyway it got worse and worse. The lads hated him by then because they knew that he was lying and stealing from me. I tried and tried to get him help and then one night I found pictures of other men on his phone.” He takes a deep breath. “There were text messages too and it was obvious that they weren’t exactly boyfriend material.” He sneaks a look at me. “They were customers paying him for a fuck.” I gasp but he carries on stolidly. “It was also fairly obvious that he wasn’t too bothered about his personal health.
” He pauses. “Or mine for that matter.” He looks at me determinedly as if he wants me to know everything. “Bare backing can get you more money.”
“Jesus!” I sit up and grab his shoulders. “Did he -” I hesitate. “Fuck, did he give you something?” My heart is racing.
He stares back at me. “Would it matter that much to you?”
“Of course it would,” I say without thinking. “I’d hate to think that you were sick. Fucking hate it. But if you’re asking whether it would make me treat you differently, then I’d hope that you’d fucking know me better than that.”
He looks suddenly very young as he relaxes suddenly. “I know that,” he says softly, “And don’t worry I dodged that bullet. I had a few weeks of horrendous worry but I’m completely clean and I’ve been very safety conscious ever since.”
“What happened to Ben?” I ask cautiously, and his expression clouds.
“We argued very badly and I threw him out. I told him that I didn’t want to see him again. He left and … he died that night. Overdosed in a squat down the road. I wasn’t allowed to go to his funeral because his family blamed me.”
“Oh Matty,” I say softly, drawing him up and close to my side without thinking. He rests there staring out to sea and silence falls for a second while I stroke his hair back from his tanned face enjoying the feel of the silky strands, and then he sighs.
“He was the first man I met that it felt like it was totally right. That I’d made the right choice when I alienated my family.”
“You didn’t alienate your family,” I say furiously. “That was your wanker of a dad. And you did make the right choice.”
His face cracks open in a sad smile. “Did I? I’ve never found another bloke who’s made me feel like that.”
“You will,” I say firmly, ignoring the fact that the thought of him being happy with someone bothers me a great deal more than I’d like.
We sit quietly for a while after this and then by unspoken consent we gather our stuff together and make our way to the ferry. On board and out on the water he stares contemplatively out to sea and then sighs and rests his head on my shoulder suddenly. I jerk but then grab his shoulder to keep him there when he makes a move to sit up again, so he relaxes and stares back at the island.
After a second he sighs but it’s not an unhappy sigh, more a release of tension. I look at him curiously and his face is totally clear of the distress it held earlier.
“You okay?” I murmur and he nods instantly, making me relax.
“I am,” he says clearly. “I really am. Talking about it in that place it felt, I don’t know -” He pauses but I don’t rush to fill in the silence, giving him time to order his thoughts. “It felt cathartic and right like I was finally laying it to bed and leaving his memory there on that lonely island.”
I rub his head gently feeling the silkiness of his hair. “That’s good Matty right?”
“It is,” he says quietly and then grabs my hand. “Look,” he gasps, and I look down at the sea in time to see a disruption in the water and then a grey, sleek shape breaks the surface and the passengers cry out in pleasure at the pod of dolphins that swim next to us. We watch them as if they’ve been sent to lighten our mood and at no point does he release my hand.
An hour later we drive up to the villa, quiet but strangely content. I feel relaxed and easy down to my bones, the way that a day of sun and sea always leaves me. The top is up on the car now and it feels intimate in here.
“Thank you,” he says suddenly, reaching out to lay a hand on my thigh. It’s meant as a friendly gesture but something fires in my blood suddenly and before I can help it I gasp, feeling a dizzy rush as my cock hardens unmistakably.
“Johnny,” he says in a low voice. “Oh my God Johnny.” His hand moves and I can’t help but give out a low moan as it travels up towards my cock and I push back in my seat to allow it. Instead he gives a sharp gasp and his hand falls away. “Who the fuck is that?”
My attention drawn in again I see a figure sitting on the steps of the villa beside a couple of suitcases. I look at him as I draw up beside him. He looks vaguely familiar and I rack my brain as Matt lowers his window and the man rests his hands on the side of the car. “Matty babe,” he says in a low voice full of intimacy.
“Ed,” Matt says slowly and it suddenly comes to me where I’ve seen him. This is Matt’s ex-boyfriend.
Chapter 7
Song: ‘R U Mine?’ by Arctic Monkeys
John
Ed leans against the car familiarly as we both get out and I resist the urge to shove his fingers off the paintwork. He’s a very good looking man with sleek blonde hair, bright green eyes and a slender build. He looks like he could be a model and I dimly remember Charlie telling me that he’d signed on with one of the big modelling agencies before I came out to France.
He certainly looks trendy and very expensive in his skinny beige chino shorts and red and white gingham checked shirt, and I suddenly become aware of how very untidy I look. Hair dried every which way by the wind, stubble that’s very nearly a beard, skin coated in a thin layer of salt and the beginnings of a sunburn on my nose.
However, when I look at Matt he’s no better. In fact his hair is the wildest that I’ve ever seen, collapsing over his face in a sun streaked mess. I snort out a laugh, making Ed lean back from where he’d leant forward to embrace Matt and look at me almost hostilely. “What are you laughing at?” he asks sharply.
I don’t even deign to acknowledge that question, ignoring him completely and making him huff indignantly, a fact that doesn’t seem to escape Matt who has a half smile curling his lips when he looks at me. “What are you laughing at Johnny?”
Ed looks sharply at him when he hears his warm tone, but I just laugh and gesture to his hair. “It’s a bit -”
“Wild?” he smirks.
“It passed wild about an hour ago,” I confide, and he grins.
“Oh my God is my hair terrible?” he asks in a faux shrill voice, and when I nod slowly he laughs. “It’s your fault anyway for giving me that fucking Panama hat and taking me on a boat. I now have unmoveable hat hair.”
Ed gives me a reprimanding look which makes me want to laugh. “Well I for one think that your hair looks great,” he says smoothly, and then leans forward saying in a low voice, “Makes it look like you’ve just pulled out and rolled off.” He sighs, giving him a lecherous look. “I remember those times babe.”
“Ed, what are you doing?” Matt asks in a low voice shooting me a quick glance, but his next question is in a firmer tone. “What are you doing here?”
Ed takes his arm familiarly saying something into his ear in a low voice. I feel my fingers clench involuntarily, and Matt shoots me a quick glance full of an emotion that I can’t identify.
Ed shakes his arm. “Are you listening to me?” he demands. Matt turns back to him slowly. “I’m here because I realised that I made a mistake baby.”
“A mistake?” Matt echoes in a low voice.
“Yes, I missed you so much and I knew as soon as I put the phone down that it was the wrong move, but you’d gone when I came looking for you, and I didn’t know where to find you.”
“How did you find me?” I can’t read anything in Matt’s voice.
“Oh I asked Lucy, Seth’s girlfriend and she told me. Really, the band are a bit unfriendly without you there. Bram mistook me for a pizza delivery man and we had the most confusing conversation, and then he shut the door in my face.”
Matt’s lip quirks. “That’s terrible.”
Ed leans into him throwing his arm around Matt’s lean waist and I remember dozens of parties where I’d seen them together like this, back when he hated me and hardly gave me the time of day, when he used that cool voice to speak to me.
I’d always thought that they made a good looking couple, both of them tall and blonde, and I realise with a start that they were together for a year. The fact that Matt hasn’t mentioned him at all had led me to believe
that the ex-boyfriend was a nothing in his life, but this man has shared a lot with him.
Suddenly all the closeness that I’ve felt with him seems like posturing on my part. I’d fancied that he was attracted to me and I’d allowed myself to get closer. I’d allowed myself to toy with the idea of doing God knows what, like I’d be doing him a favour or an honour by changing my life, and I feel very stupid because why would he want that?
Why would he want a man who doesn’t know the first thing about his sexuality now? I’m almost the fumbling virgin in this scenario and I know that many men never want that level of ignorance in their bed. Ed knows what to do and doesn’t need to think about everything before he does it, and they have a long history together.
I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment at what an idiot I’ve been, and then come back to myself to overhear their conversation.
“No, you can’t stay here,” Matt is saying sharply and I notice that while I’ve been in a daze he’s moved away from Ed slightly, his arms folded.
“For Christ’s sake Matt I won’t be taking up much room. I mean I’ll be sleeping in your room so he hardly needs to air a bed or whatever people do.”
“No,” Matt says firmly. “You can’t stay here and it was wrong of you to make that decision for yourself without asking. You were wrong in thinking that.”
I break in, suddenly wanting this awkward as fuck conversation to be over so that I can retreat upstairs and gather my armour around me so that I don’t feel like such a fool. “You can stay here,” I say in a flat voice, and Matt jerks round to me.
“John, what?”
“It’s fine,” I say with my cool professional smile in full bloom. “Any friend of yours etc. Ed is very welcome to stay here.”
I can feel Matt burning a hole in my face staring at me and positively vibrating with some message that his body is trying to convey, but I don’t catch his eye. I give Ed my cold smile, and self-centred as he is something about it must give him pause for thought because he steps back slightly. “I’m going for a shower,” I say coldly. “I’ll leave Ed to bring his bags in. Matt watch your arm if you help him.”
