Spanking Dee-Dee

by Fabian Black

  After dinner, for which he had little appetite, we watched television together, an episode of Hercule Poirot. He curled on the sofa, resting the uninjured side of his face on my thigh. His closeness was sweet agony. I wanted to stroke his hair, run my hand under his t-shirt and feel his skin. I settled for draping a comforting arm over him.

  “Si,” he shifted a little. “Do you think reality can ever match fantasy?”

  “I don’t know, Dee. I suspect not. I think the point of fantasy is that it’s safe and controllable and no one really gets hurt. The moment you start trying to make it ‘real’ is the point at which control is lost. Fantasy can help you explore and understand things about yourself. It’s a place to go to, a place to hide out for a while, but not a place to stay, if that makes sense?”

  He sighed. “No.”

  I gave a gentle laugh. “Nice try, but no cigar, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You’ll find someone.” I fought an urge to twine his hair through my fingers. “Someone nice and kind.”

  “I’ve got you. You’re nice and kind. The best friend a man could have.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled, while wanting to cry.

  He didn’t sleep well, and neither did I. I lay awake listening to him tossing and turning. At one point he gave a single fearful shout. I knew he must have been dreaming about the moment he’d been attacked. It made my hackles rise. I paid a visit to my own fantasyland where I caught up with a bulldog man named James and beat the crap out of him. It was one of those instances when I heartily wished reality could match the fantasy.

  He was quiet and nervy next morning, tears never far from his eyes. He kept going to the window and peering through the blinds. I knew he was looking out for James. I didn’t believe he’d show up, and not only because of the police threats. By refusing to give me up as a friend Dee-Dee had shown he wasn’t quite the malleable victim James had been hoping for. In my opinion the impromptu visit of the day before had been all about grabbing some moments of sport before he lost the opportunity altogether.

  In an effort to set Dee’s mind at rest I called Tony and gave a version of what had happened, not mentioning the ad or Dee’s obsession with finding an alpha man to take charge of him. I asked him to come over and help me stake out the apartment in case Dee’s rogue date returned to harass him. Tony was up for it, and so was Ruby. They’d both grown fond of Dee-Dee and were horrified and angry to hear about the assault.

  Tony came armed with a cricket bat, while Ruby was armed with DVD’s, chocolates and feminine sympathy. She was appalled when she saw his face. Gathering him to her ample assets she comforted him. Judging from the expression on his face when he emerged I guessed his straight percent had thoroughly enjoyed its brief holiday and the opportunity to sink into the soft kind waves of a woman’s body. It was a small fantasy fulfilled.

  Leaving Ruby and Dee watching chick flicks and eating chocolates, Tony and I headed downstairs.

  It was the first time Tony had been inside Dee’s apartment. We usually all met at my place or at some pub or restaurant. The living room studio fascinated Tony. I gave him a tour of some of Dee’s work, taking an almost proprietary pride in his awe struck admiration.

  “He’s fantastic, don’t you think?”

  Tony nodded. “I know you said he was a good artist, but I had no idea he was this talented. Ruby would swoon if she saw these. They’re amazing. Why won’t he exhibit?”

  “For him the joy is in the creation. His paintings and drawings are an extension of his personality. He reckons they house a portion of his soul and he doesn’t want to expose it to critical eyes. He fears his sense of identity would suffer if people started evaluating his work. He says they’d end up superimposing their personality over his and he’d lose himself.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Simon. I really like the guy, but he is a bit, you know,” he tapped his head, “out to tea at times.”

  “He has all his marbles, they just roll in a different order.” I laughed. “He has a few eccentric traits. I wouldn’t have him any other way.”

  Tony gave me a bold look. “And have you had him?”

  Heat flooded my face. “What do you mean?”

  He clapped my shoulder. “I think you know what I mean, Simes, but I won’t spell it out.”

  I changed the subject. “Do you fancy a coffee?” He nodded and I led the way to the kitchen.

  There were two mugs on the table. They were obviously the ones Dee and James had drunk from the day before. It was easy to see which was Dee’s. There was dried blood around the rim and down the side. I felt nauseous at the thought of him being so scared he had gone through the charade of drinking a civil cup of tea with a man who had brutalised him and split his lip. Grabbing the mugs I binned them. I’d buy him new ones rather than have his memory stirred each time he saw them.

  “Jeez, man.” Tony’s face was a picture. “I know washing up is a drag, but isn’t that going a bit far? Won’t Dee mind you chucking his earthenware instead of dunking it in a bit of fairy liquid?”

  I explained.

  He grimaced. “Sick bastard! How did a sweet guy like Dee-Dee get mixed up with a creep like him?”

  “Online dating is a bit of a minefield. You’re never quite sure what nasties lay beneath the projected surface. I told him it could be dangerous.” I made the coffee and then sat down at the table.

  “What I don’t get.” Tony picked up his mug of coffee and blew on it to cool it. He peered through the steam, a determined set to his mouth as if he were about to say something that had been on his mind for a while. “Is why you two aren’t together, you know, together-together? It’s plain you think the world of each other.”

  “We do, as friends.”

  “Come on, man.” Tony gave his gap toothed smile. “Don’t kid a kidder. You should see your face when you talk about him.” He nodded towards the living room. “I couldn’t help but notice there’s a fair share of drawings and paintings featuring your fair mug in there. You’re a handsome enough guy, but not as handsome, or as rugged, as he makes you look. There’s a touch of stardust in his view of you.”

  “Since when have you been an art critic, Mr Geography?”

  “My fiancée is an art teacher, which makes me an expert by proxy, so there.”

  “He uses me as a subject because he doesn’t have many other people in his life, so don’t read between nonexistent lines.”

  “Rubbish. Get away, man. Ruby has noticed too. She’s been saying for ages you two are hot for each other, so why haven’t you gotten together?”

  Fuck it. I abandoned the ‘good friends’ mantra I’d been about to deliver and opted for stone cold truth. “We did get together once, one night only. It didn’t work out. It was too much too soon and we were drunk. Afterwards we decided what we wanted was friendship.”

  “But now you’d like more?”

  I nodded.

  “Ha, I knew it.” He looked pleased.

  The ball was set rolling. There seemed no point stopping it. I made a full confession, baring my soul. “I love him. I’ve been in love with him since,” I gestured hopelessly with my hands, “I don’t know when, why, or how. I only know I love him. He’s older than me and yet younger, he’s wise, but naïve. I love the very bones of him. I want to protect him. I dream about him at night. He haunts my mind during the day. The sight of him makes every cell in my body thrill with pleasure and ache with desire.”

  “Who the fuck are you and what have you done with the real Simon ‘love isn’t for me’ Putney? Tony stared at me, marvelling. “And to think I once thought you’d had all traces of romance surgically removed from your person. You have to tell him how you feel. No one could resist a declaration like that.”

  “And what if he does? It would upset the proverbial apple cart. Our friendship wouldn’t survive. It would be too uncomfortable. We got over the sex thing because neither of us was ready and we both accepted it as a drunken e
scapade. You don’t know him like I do. He has his heart set on a certain type of man. I’m not it. It’s why he started searching for his soul mate online.”

  “Listen, Simon. You’ve always had a knack for avoiding what’s bang in front of you. I think you two were made for each other, so does Ruby, and she’s never wrong.” He grinned. “So she tells me. Trust us. The boy is hot for you. If you really want him, grab him. Take the risk. If need be become the type he thinks he wants. Chances are you’re it already, only in a different suit.”

  “I doubt it, and I’d prefer you keep this conversation private. I don’t want it getting out that I have a romantic aspect after all. If Jo and Vicky get wind of it I’ll never live it down. They’ll rip into me like a couple of Valkyrie.”

  The front door suddenly juddered, as if someone had slammed a fist into it. We both sprang into action, almost overturning our chairs as we darted from the kitchen. Tony grabbed his cricket bat on the way. God knows what he thought he was going to do with it. Geography teachers were not designed for inflicting GBH. It didn’t look good on a CV.

  Flinging open the door we were confronted by a startled and apologetic cleaner.

  “Sorry, gents, didn’t mean to disturb you,” she blushed a little. “I lost control of my hose when I was hoovering along the skirting. I swear it has a mind of its own. There’s no damage done to the paintwork.”

  Tony and I counter apologised for our mob handed opening of the door and retreated back inside the apartment, feeling slightly foolish.

  True to my prediction James didn’t show. We kept vigil until gone five, passing the time by playing games on Dee’s Xbox. Our conversation stayed in neutral waters, much to my relief. I felt I’d revealed more than enough of my true feelings for one day.

  We returned to my place. We all had a coffee and then Ruby and Tony took their leave. They were dining out with friends that evening and had to get ready.

  Before leaving Ruby embraced me, whispering, “marry the boy, or I swear I’ll abandon Tony and take him up the aisle instead.”

  I whispered back, “what is it with you women and marrying Dee-Dee?”

  “Jealous?” She crooked mischievous eyebrows.

  I pulled a face and she laughed.

  Dee and I watched them walk away hand in hand, waving as they reached the end of the corridor.

  “What were you and Ruby whispering about?” He looked at me curiously after I’d closed the door.

  I winked. “You’ve made another conquest with your chick flick ways. Rube said if she didn’t have Tony she would marry you. I told her your straight part was already betrothed to another.”

  “True,” he nodded solemnly, “it is. I couldn’t let Jen down.” He smiled. “Still, it’s nice to think someone would consider marrying me.”

  “Come on.” I gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs. “Let’s order a Chinese for dinner. I’m not in the mood for cooking tonight.”

  “Sounds good. It’ll be my treat, Si. To say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being brilliant, as always, coming to my rescue. You’re a hero.”

  “Hardly a hero, Dee.” I rested my palm against his bruised cheek. “Heroes are supposed to turn up before the bad deed is done. I wish I could have saved you from this.”

  He put his hand up to touch mine. “Heroism isn’t all about noise and action, sometimes it’s a quiet understated thing, like an act of kindness.” His warm brown eyes misted a little. “It wouldn’t have happened if I’d listened to you in the first place instead of acting like a fool. I’m a silly man.”

  “No, you’re not silly.” I put a teasing note in my voice. “Maybe you’ll listen next time I impart my worldly wisdom, not that I expect there to be a next time.” I wagged a finger. “There’ll be trouble if I catch you putting yourself out for tender again. I’ll suspend your playtime and set you lines to write. Capiche?”

  Tipping back his head he gave his throaty laugh by way of reply.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The autumn term got underway. Life slipped back into a pattern of work. Dee-Dee’s bruises faded and his lip healed, but his mood remained low. He took to wearing garish contacts again, as if they were protective talismans. He was frightened to go out in case James was lurking somewhere, watching for him.

  I didn’t believe James would dare show his face again. He’d had his fun with Dee. Taking the apartment keys had been a way of prolonging his victim’s fear rather than any real intention to return.

  In an effort to cheer Dee-Dee I took him on a weekend visit to my mum’s house. He enjoyed being fussed by her and Jo, but his mood dipped again as we journeyed home.

  Then, almost three weeks after the assault he received a package out of the blue. He was excited. It was a rare event for him to get a letter let alone a package. Pleasure died when he opened it. It was from his counterfeit alpha man. It contained his old keys and a letter, which pompously stated Dee-Dee to be unworthy of his guidance and leadership. He declared any arrangement between them to be null and void.

  Fucking unbelievable! The arrogant tosser clearly had delusions of grandeur. I formulated a theory about him being a closet fundamentalist with a deep-seated guilt about being gay. He sought relationships with men he could victimise and punish on behalf of his twisted god, much as religious misogynists sought women to mistreat in the name of a god of spite and inequality.

  The letter upset Dee-Dee in one sense, being a reminder of a frightening incident, but it was also a relief. It signified the end of the matter. His spirits lifted at last, bringing a return of confidence and, to my joy, a return of normal eye colour.

  Vicky finally gave birth to a baby girl at the back end of September, two full weeks after her due date. She and Ian were thrilled with their new daughter whom they name Chloe. Like her mum, baby Chloe had a crown of red hair and looked adorable in the photos they sent me. I couldn’t wait to visit and make the proper acquaintance of my impending goddaughter.

  I made arrangements to visit during the half term break towards the end of October. I planned to go early in the week and return on the Friday before college restarted.

  Dee-Dee came with me. I rarely went anywhere without him, barring work. He was excited at the prospect of meeting and greeting the baby and also getting to know Vicky and Ian a little better. He’d met them when they’d called on me earlier in the summer.

  The baby enthralled him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, marvelling at her miniature perfection. I had a hard job getting a look in. We bickered like a pair of rival maiden aunts over whose turn it was to hold and nurse her, though we both made ourselves scarce when it came to nappy changing.

  Meeting the baby wasn’t the only exciting thing about the visit. Ian proposed to Vicky while we were there. It was a touching and emotional moment. He did the full old fashioned down on one knee thing. He offered his ‘beautiful dolly bird’ his heart, his undying devotion and a diamond ring in exchange for her hand in marriage, along with the rest of her. She said yes and cried. Ian cried. The baby cried. Dee-Dee cried, and cried. I almost cried, but managed to keep it together and hand out tissues all round.

  Before we left for home Vicky took me to one side. I guessed what was coming, but let her get it out of her system anyway. The women in my life had a clear need to interfere in my love life, or lack of.

  “Simon. If you don’t marry the boy, I swear I will kill you and claim hormonal imbalance as mitigation.”

  I fell into familiar denial. “The boy is a man two years my senior, he’s a friend, and I’m not the marrying kind.”

  “Bullshit!” She said eloquently. “He’s gorgeous and you have feelings for him. I’ve known it for ages, before I even saw you together. I’ve known since last New Year. Don’t keep your life on standby any longer, Simon. Press the on switch, dare to love, out in the open.”

  “Take good care of my gorgeous goddaughter.” I kissed her goodbye, feeling guilty for not confirming my feeli
ngs for Dee-Dee. I think I’d scared myself by the frank confession I’d made to Tony.

  It was dark when we got back to the bakery. A thin rain was falling. Dee-Dee had barely spoken a word on the journey home, gazing out of the passenger side window, watching the scenery flow by, his dreamy look in evidence. Once I’d parked up he got out of the car and sniffed the air.

  “Autumn is properly here. I can smell it.” He glanced up at the starless canopy. “This rain is the sky crying for the death of summer.”

  “Summer will return, next year. It always does.”

  “It won’t be the same. Next summer will be a new one, not this one.”

  “Let’s get inside, Dee. Come up to mine. I’ll make us something to eat.”

  He shook his head. “Not hungry. I’m going to go for a walk.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for a lovely few days away. I had a good time. I’ve never met a baby before. She’s beautiful. Do you think Vicky and Ian would like a pencil sketch of Chloe? She’s kind of stuck in my head. I’d like to draw her.”

  “I’m sure they’d love one. I know I would.”

  “Good. See you tomorrow.” He made to walk off.

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “No thanks, Si. I want to feel the rain speak for a while, on my own. You don’t mind do you?”

  “Course not. Don’t stay out too long chatting with the elements. It’s getting cold.”

  I watched him walk away, his shoulders hunched against the falling rain.

  Going indoors I unpacked both our bags and sorted out what needed to be washed. I heated up a can of chicken soup and made myself a sandwich and then settled in front of the TV set to veg. I stared at the screen without seeing what was on it. My thoughts concentrated on Dee-Dee. He’d enjoyed the visit, but it had unsettled him. I understood. It was hard seeing other people’s happiness when you felt something was missing from your own life.