Gus (Bar 28 Book 1)

by JJ Harper

  I chuckle when he shakes his head.

  “I’m used to working nights. I won’t get to sleep any earlier anyway. I’d rather come and look at you all night.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you tonight. Thank you for a lovely morning.” He kisses me, and I wrap my hand around the back of his head to deepen the kiss, holding on to him for as long as I can. When he pulls away, he’s laughing. “Bye, Max.”

  “Call me. Let me know how you get on,” I call out, but the only answer I get is the slamming of the door.

  The idea of staying in bed until I have to go to work is appealing but not conducive to a good work ethic. Instead, I’ll go to the gym. I drop my gaze to my hand. The redness has all gone, leaving only a couple of blisters behind. Bloody Jonas.

  I open my wardrobe to get my gym bag. Bollocks, it’s still in the office. I didn’t bring it with me last night. I throw on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Then after grabbing a hoodie, I pick up my phone and wallet and leave the apartment. It’s still balmy, and I amble back to the bar, enjoying the sunshine, my head full of images of last night. I turn the corner into the lane that leads to the square where the bar is. Four men huddle around something, kicking and yelling. What the fuck? I sprint towards the men.

  “Hey, stop that,” I call out.

  One of them turns at my voice. I recognise him as one of the guys who’d pestered Gus. Gus when he had eyeliner and all his jewellery and shit on. He pales when he sees me and slaps the back of his hand against the chest of the fucker next to him. The four men race away. I speed up and manage to grab the arm of one of them, stopping him from getting away. Then my heart stops. It’s Gus, my Gus. The man I’m in love with lies on the ground, curled up, with his arms over his head.

  “You fucking bastard.” I tighten my grip on his arm and lift my other hand, then let it drop again. I so want to hit him, but I can’t. I mustn’t. The police need to be involved. “Help! Someone fucking help!”

  I desperately look around. There, an older lady with her phone to her ear. “Call the police!” I shout. She nods and carries on talking.

  I want to get to Gus, but I can’t let go of this scumbag. He has to pay for what he did to Gus. Pounding feet are running towards me. Then Jonas is by my side. How did he get here?

  “What the fuck is going on?” He stares at me and the wanker I’ve got a vice-like grip on, then down at the ground. “Gus? Max, what the fucking hell has happened.”

  “You need to take hold of this tosser for me before I kick the shit out of him,” I snarl, shoving him in Jonas’s direction. I drop down to the ground and kneel by my man. I gently take his hands in mine and lift them from his face. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. I’m here.” I brush his hair from his forehead. Blood is trickling from his nose. He has a fat lip and a scrape across his cheek.

  “Fucking hell,” Jonas whispers. “You piece of shit!” He shakes the man like he’s a ragdoll.

  Ignoring the crowd that’s forming, I sit on the ground and gather Gus into my arms, cradling him against my chest. Tremors rattle his body, which makes me hug him tighter until he flinches. “Where else do you hurt, baby?” I murmur and lay kisses on his temple as I keep him as close to me as I can. “We’ll sort it, baby, I promise.”

  “I’m okay. I-I want to go home,” he stutters. He’s not crying, but I don’t think the tears are far away.

  “We will. I’ll get you there soon.” A car pulls up in front of us, and two doors open, then slam shut. The police have arrived. Finally. “We need to talk to the police, Gus. Can you stand up?”

  He nods and moves from my lap and pushes himself up. He winces. The palms and heels of his hands are scuffed and red. They really did push him around.

  The piece of shit I caught is being questioned by one of the coppers. The other is talking to Jonas. I wrap my arm around Gus’s shoulder and lead him over. I relay what I saw and that there were three others, that I recognised them from the pub, and that they’d already harassed Gus when we’d been out on a date.

  After conferring with each other, the coppers put the arsehole in the back of the police car, then tell us they want a statement from both of us.

  Gus shakes his head. “Can I do it later? I like to get cleaned up.”

  “You should be checked out by a doctor. We’ll need photographs of the injuries and a list of any treatment needed. These men are known troublemakers, especially towards the LGBTQ community. We’re taking this very seriously.”

  I promise him we’ll be in touch after our visit to the hospital.

  “Take my car, Max. Gus shouldn’t wait for you to go and get yours.” Jonas holds out his keys, then gives Gus a hug, a careful one, thankfully, and a soft kiss on his forehead.

  I get Gus settled in the passenger seat, walk around, and jump into the driver’s side. Gus struggles to pull the seat belt around him. I gently take the tongue and click it into place. With a deep sigh, he lets his head drop back and closes his eyes.

  “Ready, baby?” I ask. I don’t know how I’m keeping calm, but I wait for him to nod. I drive us a few miles out of the centre to the hospital. It seems that luck has decided to be on our side, and I find a parking space easily. The walk into the accident and emergency department takes a bit longer. Gus shuffles, holding his arms protectively against his ribs. We wait behind two others to get to the receptionist when a tiny lady in pale green scrubs approaches us. “August Andrews?” she asks kindly.

  “Yes,” we both answer.

  “Come this way, please. The police have called. I’ll have someone come in to take your details.”

  She pulls back a curtain, and we step into a cubicle. Gus sits on the only chair, whereas I lean against the wall.

  “I think it’s better to sit up on the bed if you want me to take a look.” With a smile, she points to the very obvious hospital bed.

  “Oh, sorry.” Gus stands up again.

  “I leave you to get undressed. There’s a gown on the bed. You can leave your underwear on.”

  “Do you want some help?” I quickly move towards him as he struggles to get his jacket off.

  Nodding, Gus lets his arms relax again. I slowly push his jacket off his shoulders, then lift his right hand through the sleeve and press a kiss on the palm. I repeat the procedure, including the kiss, and then pull up his T-shirt. Huge bruises darken his chest and his back on the right-hand side. The left side is clear. He must have been lying on that side. My blood is boiling with anger, but I keep my features neutral as I finish stripping him out of his clothes. Once he’s in the gown, I place a soft kiss on his bruised and puffy face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t drive you home. I’ll never let you walk alone again.”

  “Don’t be dumb. This wasn’t your fault. I should’ve turned back when I heard what they were saying.” He shakes his head, then flinches with the pain. He looks down at his scuffed hands. They’re trembling. I take them in my own and kiss each scrape.

  “For the record, you’re still absolutely stunning.” I try to lighten the mood.

  “Ouch, my ribs. I doubt that very much but thank you for saying it. But don’t make me laugh. That hurts.” He breathes through the pain. “Thank you for being there, Max. I don’t know what they would’ve done.”

  “I’m so sorry. I could rip those fuckers’ heads off. I’m so fucking angry.”

  “I’m okay. It will all heal quickly. I don’t know if I should call my parents. What do you think?” He frowns.

  “What will they do?”

  “Descend on me within a few hours and smother me until I can’t breathe.” He shudders. “I don’t think I can deal with that.”

  “Why don’t you phone them later. You’ll know what the extent of the damage is then. If you still don’t feel like you can handle them, you can persuade them that you’re okay, and we can see them when you’re feeling better.”

  “You’d come with me?” He looks at me flabbergasted.

  “Of course, I will. They have to meet the man wh
o’s your person.”

  “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

  “I do, but it’s nice to be told.” I laugh and kiss him again.

  The tiny doctor comes back in and starts the examination. I take the chair and wait. Then I take a seat in the waiting room while he goes to X-ray. Then I sit down again with him while we wait for the results, and eventually, after four and a half hours, we can leave. Gus has bruised ribs and a lot of cuts and bruises. Rest and time will heal all of them.

  When we get to his flat, I help him in and take him through to the bathroom. All he wants is to get clean and to sleep. First he needs to call his parents, though, and I listen to a painful conversation in which his mum cries and has to hand the phone over to his dad. I can see how exhausted Gus is, and when he gives me his phone, I know he’s reached his limit. I reassure them that I’ll stay with him. It’s only after that that they relent and remain at home.

  “Will you help me?” The pain and exhaustion in his voice break my heart, but he needn’t have spoken. It’s written over his face and in the way he’s barely holding on.

  “Of course.” I lower the toilet lid and help Gus to sit on it, then turn on the taps for the shower. Once we’re both naked, I get into the shower and hold his hands as he steps under the spray. It’s not until he’s under the water that he cries. I do the only thing I can do. I hold him and cry with him.

  It’s two weeks later, and I can’t believe that Max is driving me to my parents’ home. I swapped a shift with Leo so we can travel on Friday rather than Saturday morning. The traffic will hopefully be better, but you never can tell.

  Max has been amazing. He’s been with me the whole time, either at my place or, when he’d had enough of my small TV, at his. I’ve made him do some of his shifts. It’s not fair on any of the others to have both of us out, and I’ve been sleeping a lot.

  “Not too far now.” He growls at the traffic that’s building up as we enter the quieter roads that interlink the Cotswolds villages and towns.

  “You really did a good job of moving away. I’m not surprised you don’t go home very often.” His eyes flick over to mine.

  “Yeah, it’s a blessing and a curse. Sometimes I miss them and would give anything to spend a couple of hours sitting at the kitchen table, drinking endless cups of tea. My dad would discuss books while my mum makes a fuss about feeding me. Other times the silence is perfect. I’ve learnt to balance them.”

  The conversation I had with them after my attack was awful. My mum cried, and my dad was ready to jump into the car and get me. It took a lot of pleading that I could cope, which led to them talking to Max. He was amazing and promised to give daily updates and to not leave me alone. Only then did they relent and allow me to recuperate in my own bed. After that, Max took me into the shower and washed me clean, taking every care not to hurt me any further, kissing every graze, scrape, and bruise. I finally broke down and cried. He held me as the hot water pounding over our heads mingled with my tears, washing them away.

  “Turn left up ahead. We’re here,” I say as we drive up a steep hill lined with shops. The cobbled streets with the centuries-old butter-yellow Cotswold stone buildings are bustling with tourists as they search through antique shops, galleries, and boutique clothing stores. Restaurants and pubs offer everything on the menu from simple fish and chips or ploughman lunches to Michelin-star five-course dinners. I hardly notice the holidaymakers anymore, but Max is taking them in with surprise.

  “It’s very quaint,” he says drily, a smile almost breaking free.

  “That’s one way of looking at it. To an eighteen-year-old gay boy, it was as oppressive as it was boring. I couldn’t get away fast enough.” I let Max drive another few hundred yards, then point to the right.

  “Wow, Gus. This wasn’t what I was expecting.” Surprised eyes meet mine, making me look at my house through his eyes.

  Wisteria is growing up the front wall of the large old farmhouse. The lilac flowers are all gone now. Virginia creeper covers the front porch with the arched oak door. Mullioned windows are at different heights as the house has various rooms that have steps leading up or down into them. It’s a very pretty building, and I love it.

  “It’s been in the family for a long time. The farmland has all gone, been sold to other landowners over the decades, but my mum loves it here. They’ll never leave. We don’t have much money. It’s just bricks and mortar.”

  As Max comes to a stop in front of the house, the front door swings open, and standing there, together as always, are my mum and dad with Kip, their spaniel, bouncing around their feet. Excitement is radiating from my mum, and I’m surprised she hasn’t rushed up to the car and dragged us out already. “My mum’s a hugger, Max. Be warned.” I laugh and undo my seat belt. My ribs are still a little sore, and the bruises are now faded and an ugly yellow colour. Still visible enough to have my mum fuss over them when she sees them.

  “I can cope with that, baby.” Max pops a kiss on my lips and opens his door.

  I walk around to Max and hold out my hand for him. His hand trembles slightly as he takes it, and I give a little squeeze. “They’re going to love you.”

  “Hi, Mum.” I wave and pull Max with me. “This is my Max.” I don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes as she digests my words. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around me, careful enough not to hurt me but tight enough I’ve to let go of Max’s hand.

  “Your Max?” She chuckles in my ear, then releases me and turns to Max. “Welcome, Max. Thank you for looking after August for us.” She pulls him in a hug, looking tiny against his large frame.

  Max glances over at me, the little half smile he saves just for me ghosting his lips. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

  I don’t miss my mother’s quiet comment. “Hmm, I see how it is.” Then with a clap of her hands, she herds us inside. “Come on, Max, let’s get the kettle on.”

  “Hi, Dad. How’s it going?” We hug, and he pats my back.

  “It’ll be better now she can see you’re okay. He’s a looker, Gus. Well done, my boy.” He winks, then steps up to Max and shakes his hand. I bend down to pet Kip before he loses it completely and pees on the floor.

  Mum leads us straight through to the kitchen, and the large brass kettle goes on a hot plate on the Aga. The conversation starts with the usual chitchat about the journey and the heaviness of traffic. Then when we all have tea and the biscuits are out, I can see it’s about to get more serious. I internally cringe at the thought of talking about the attack again. Every time it looks like they want me to talk, I manage to shove one of Mum’s homemade biscuits into my mouth.

  Max takes hold of my hand and gives me a wink. He senses what I’m up to and seems happy to field all the questions. “All four men have admitted to the attack. They even confessed other ones too. The attack on Gus wasn’t premeditated. They saw him and took advantage that he was alone. It was only by chance that I was there. We’re all shaken up by what happened to Gus. Most of the men working at the bar are gay, and we now make sure that when they’ve finished their shift, we escort them to their cars, or we provide a cab.”

  “It could’ve happened anywhere, Mum. Remember Cole Davis? He was an arsehole to me and took great pleasure in taunting me, happy to shove me around when he had his mates with him. There are wankers everywhere.”

  “I know that, August, but being so far away from you made me feel so helpless. And Cole Davis is now living with a short, bald man called Steve, and they have two small dogs they carry everywhere. Stupid man!”

  I guffawed at this piece of news. “Oh god, no wonder he was so horrid, locking himself away in the closet like that.”

  The conversation turns lighter after that, and I let out a huge yawn. “Sorry, I’m still knackered most of the time. I think I could do with a lie-down before dinner.” I look at Max. “Come on, let’s get our bags out of the car.”

  “I’ve put you in the room at the back. The bed there is bigger th
an the one in your room,” Mum says. “Dinner will be about six thirty. There’s no rush for you to do anything this afternoon.”

  Max’s cheeks pink at the mention of a bigger bed, and I nudge him. “You coming, honey?”

  Max drops our two bags on top of a large wooden blanket box that sits under a wide window. “I didn’t expect us to be sleeping together, and did she have to mention the size of the bed?” He shakes his head. “They’re great people, Gus. You’re very lucky.”

  “They are, and I am. Now come here and kiss me.” I crook my finger, motioning him to me.

  “We’re not doing anything in your parents’ house, Gus. And your ribs haven’t fully recovered yet. Cut it out.” He scolds me as I reach for his belt.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my mouth. All you need to do is be quiet.” I sink down to my knees and undo his belt and jeans. Then jump up quickly and rush to the door and lock it. “Just in case.”

  “Gus, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Max tells me, but the heat in his eyes and the rasp in his voice say the contrary.

  “Yes, we should. It’s been too long.” I lick up the length of his already semi-hard dick, then take it in and suck. I love the feeling of him growing bigger and harder in my mouth. It’s such a fucking turn-on. I scrabble at my jeans, releasing my hard dick.

  Max rocks slowly in and out of my mouth as his hands tangle in my hair. I know it’s not going to take him long. He’s been amazing at keeping his hands to himself, refusing to do anything to me, let alone fuck me. He moans softly as I take him in deep. My cheeks hollow as I flatten my tongue on the heavy vein that’s pulsing hard. I release him with a pop so I can nuzzle and suck on his balls. When I roll my tongue around one, Max shoves his fist up to his mouth and bites. Yep, I need to get this finished. He’s not going to be able to stay quiet for long. My hands stay fixed on his thighs as I bob up and down his length, saliva dribbling out of the sides of my mouth.

  “Gus, baby. Yes, fuck yes, I’m gonna come,” he whispers hoarsely, his hands now back in my hair. I fondle his balls again and suck hard one more time. Then it’s game over for him. His release pours down my throat. Hot, salty liquid floods my mouth as he pulls back. I swallow and swallow. He’s been backed up for days, the poor man.