by J P Sayle
Stuart pointed at Princess’s prone body snuggled into his side. “Why the hell won’t you lock her over at Brad’s, so she’ll stop bothering me?”
Stuart’s whiny voice pushed at Joe’s last nerve.
Growling, Joe stalked to the bed. “Come on, Princess, grumpy pants isn’t interested in your loving affections.” Snuggling her into his chest, he held on to his temper by a fine leash. This waiting on someone hand, foot, and toe was driving him nuts. He’d never figure out how nurses didn’t kill their patients because he sure as hell wanted to murder Stuart right about now.
This thing, whatever it was between Stuart and Princess, wasn’t helping his cause either. Brad and Martin had left over a week ago, and things had still not improved. He clutched Princess turning to go, halting mid-step when Stuart spoke. Sighing in defeat when he hadn’t escaped fast enough, he braced for whatever demand was coming next.
“Could I have some of the lovely soup for lunch? Oh, and could you get me an extra pillow, my back is aching,” Stuart’s cheerful request had him counting to ten.
Joe physically forced himself to answer through his gritted teeth. “Yes, no problem.” The clipped tone seemed to float right over Stuart’s head as he continued to tap at his computer without a care in the world. Joe felt his body strain to hold on to his temper while thundering down the stairs.
When had he become a fucking handmaiden, or a fucking slave for that matter? He instantly chastised himself for his thoughts, remembering it wasn’t Stuart’s fault he’d injured his leg. Breathing deep, Joe recalled how scared he’d been. His heart had all but stopped when Stuart had fell, dangling from the tree, the harness the only thing stopping him from crashing into the ground.
He’d only moments earlier abseiled down to the ground. Buzzing from the experience, he’d searched for Stuart, amused by his wobbling attempts to traipse across the logs. He’d thought it would be funny to record him. Joe had laughed at his antics when the child had encouraged him forward, then that awful moment his leg dangled between the two floating logs.
Joe could still feel the horror shuddering through him, as he’d watched in what’d felt like slow motion. The eager child pushing forward causing Stuart’s body weight to shift and propel the log he was standing on forward. Trapping his thigh for a few seconds before releasing him, only then for Stuart to fall unconsciously into the empty air, the harness his only saving grace.
Shivers ran down his spine, he could still hear the scream. Joe figured out pretty quickly what his true feelings were when in that moment he would have offered his soul to guarantee Stuart was going to be alright. Never more grateful it had only been a deep soft tissue injury, nothing broken, but the doctor’s words rang loudly, taunting him now. It would take weeks to heal.
Dropping Princess as he entered the kitchen, he pounded on the countertop. Could he be blamed if after two weeks his patience was wearing a little thin? Exasperated he reminded himself he’d offered to look after Stuart, but right now, right this very second, he just needed a five fucking minute break. Christ, remembering what he’d been doing, caught mid fucking flow he’d nearly pissed all over himself when Stuart bellowed! It would seem he couldn’t even pee in peace now.
“Two bloody weeks, two weeks of, ‘fetch me, carry me’, shitting hell. It’s just too much!” Joe ranted as he stomped to the fridge yanking out the ingredients for the soup. The constant requests and Princess’s ability to wind Stuart up was making him stir crazy.
Catching a glimpse of himself in the cooker hood, he burst out laughing. He hadn’t even had time to brush his hair, which looked as if he’d been electrocuted standing up on end. Dirt or what he hoped was dirt was smeared on his left cheek, not even sure where he’d picked that up from. His overall dishevelled appearance goaded him in into action.
Gathering his thoughts, enough is enough. He marched out the kitchen with the laden tray, reminding himself Stuart could walk with his crutches. “If he could get off his fat lazy ass,” muttering, he pushed the door open with his ass.
“Okay, here’s your soup, your lordship.” His sarcasm bypassed Stuart completely when all Joe got was a bemused smile.
Stuart stretched up revealing his toned rippling abdomen, making Joe want to groan out loud when heat spread fast making his crotch take notice. Not wanting to hurt Stuart, they had done nothing more than cuddle the past two weeks, and it was getting harder with each passing day to control his body’s needs. Especially if he took into account Stuart spent half of his time in bed with hardly anything on.
Feeling his frustration building when he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a wanker. Stuart’s insistence that they sleep, shower, and basically live in each other’s pockets gave him no privacy to take care of his blue balls. Put Princess in the mix, and he was starting to feel as if he was being watched every second of every minute of every day, like a prisoner.
As the thought entered his head, it shocked him to realise how true it was. His needs, it would appear, were bottom of the pecking order. Well not anymore, he’d had enough. Words rushed out before he could stop and think.
“The pillows are in the spare room. I have a few errands to run, so you will need to sort yourself and Princess out for dinner.” On that, he sailed out the door, ignoring the shocked surprise. The guilt started to creep in when shouts followed him down the stairs. Forcing his feet to keep moving he straightened his spine. Reminding himself Stuart was an adult, and he could fend for himself for a few bloody hours. Pretending he didn’t hear him, Joe all but ran out of the house, grabbing his keys on the way berating his cowardice behaviour.
Stepping in to the icy wind Joe shivered into his jumper, hoping he had left a jacket in the van, as there was no way he was going back in that house, not even, if it meant he had to buy a new one.
The dark grey clouds scattered across the sky suited his mood as he aimed his van towards Peel. Heading along the coast, he felt his van shudder slightly when the wind forced itself off the sea up the cliffs. Slowing his speed, he meandered along the road letting the rough sea and billowing clouds ease his worries. Each mile that fell behind allowed for a little more of his tension to recede.
As he drove to the far end of the promenade to park, he pondered why this in a very few short weeks had become his most favourite spot, possibly of any place he’d ever visited. The old medieval castle gave it an almost mystical feel. Captivating his imagination from the very beginning, there were other castles down the south of the island, but it didn’t hold the same appeal for him.
He’d visited the House of Mannanin on Peel harbour exploring some of the history. It showed how Peel’s quaint fishing village had expanded over the centuries, but there were some origins remaining in some of the old buildings, the castle being the main one.
On exploration he’d found streets designed with houses that looked topsey-turvey and higgledypiggledy, that appealed to his sense of fun. The promenade offered bright rainbow seats, old-fashioned booths to buy your ice creams, and two golden sandy beaches for fun and adventure for young and old alike. Little cafes provided Manx confectionaries for those with a sweet tooth. But, the small portable fish bar on the quayside was his favourite, offering great smells of frying fishes. It never mattered if he had eaten, the smell always made him hungry.
Parking, leaving the engine running to keep the van warm, Joe rested his chin on the steering wheel letting the music pound against the glass. He could almost feel the beat matching the angry tempo of the sea. Waves bashed at brick walls and iron railings, tossing seaweed at any unsuspecting persons walking by. The explosiveness creating pandemonium in the sand, it flew wildly in the air expressing Joe’s emotions to perfection.
Needing to get out and feel the energy against his skin he searched the van, spotting a jacket tucked at the back. Chuckling as he put it on getting out of the van. The lingering scent of smoked wood from the black combat jacket that hung to his knees overwhelming his small stature had him realise it was A
aden’s. Crap, crap, crap, remembering too late he’d forgotten to ring Aaden back, he clambered back into the van to find his phone.
So caught up with Stuart, he’d completely forgotten the cryptic text he’d received the week before. He recalled all too well the fight between Stuart and Princess. Stuart had attempted to push her off the bed, resulting in a furious hissing and spitting match. Princess had then proceeded to claw at any part of Stuart she could reach as he’d lain half on the floor trying to escape. Joe had then spent hours trying to calm them both down, resulting in him forgetting to answer Aaden.
Why, he asked himself, did everything have to be so ruddy complicated?
Dialling, several seconds later all he got was an electronic voice asking him to leave a message. Sighing in frustration, “Hey, Aaden, it’s me just returning your call. Sorry for the delay, I’ll explain when you get back to me.” Pressing end, Joe jumped back out of the van as his phone buzzed. Frowning when he saw who it was, he answered hesitantly. “Hey you, did you just get my message, cause’ that was quick if you did, even for you, Aaden.”
The beat of silence had the hairs on his neck standing to attention. Snuggling into Aaden’s jacket, Joe attempted to warm his ice-coated skin.
Aaden’s angry response froze him in place. “Joel has been given a dishonourable discharge several weeks ago. I had to do a bit of digging to find this out. He’s been a free man for weeks. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Anything different or felt anything was off?” The rapid fire questions did nothing to alleviate the panic. Joe’s eyes wheeled around, searching for danger, the air felt heavy in his lungs making it difficult to breathe out. His mind raced, buzzing with the awful possibilities of what Joel could have been doing while he was unaware.
Moving back to the safety of the van, Aaden’s words started to penetrate past the blinding fear building inside him.
“Answer me now, for fuck sake, Joe. I will kick your ass if you don’t talk to me this very second.” Aaden’s own alarm allowing Joe to suck in greedy gulps of salty air. The sea spray clung to his clothes bringing the smell of salt into the van as he hopped in locking the door. Joe focused solely on trying to take several deep breaths. Letting the familiarity of Aaden’s scent calm him.
What the hell was he going to do? How could he protect both Stuart and Princess from this and keep himself safe? Just like the angry sea battering the walls, his questions battered his mind.
“I mean it. I’m not fucking around here, answer me now.” Aaden’s livid growl filled his ear, stopping his racing mind for a few seconds.
“I’m here, I just, well fuck, man, what am I going to do? How many weeks head start has he had? I informed the army base weeks ago where I was because I thought it was safe. Jesus, what if he’s been here all the time just watching us?” Panic grew anew. The feeling of nausea coiling with every thought had him wanting to throw up.
“I’ll help. I have some leave due, well a lot of leave. So it won’t be a problem to take some time off.” The cryptic statement gave him pause when he heard the heavy note of finality in Aaden’s voice. Joe worried his lip between his teeth. Had he caused problems for Aaden, involving him with the Joel fiasco? Joe jerked back in his seat when Aaden answered his silent question.
“It has nothing to do with you, so stop stressing.”
It wasn’t as if Aaden could even see his face, shaking off the thought Aaden was reading his mind, he asked instead. “Does that mean I’m getting a visit?” Pleasure filled him at the thought of seeing Aaden.
Aaden had taken over as Martin’s substitute in the army. Initially they’d both struggled to find a connection. Aaden’s aura of ‘keep the fuck away’ made it difficult for Joe to understand being a friendly person. In the end, they’d somehow made it work out and he was never more pleased than right now. Aaden’s friendship had been invaluable in the end, saving him from Joel. Well, maybe. Joe shuddered at that thought.
His mind working overtime when Aaden confirmed he was coming. “I could speak to Stuart, he has a spare room, or I could ask Martin and Brad. They won’t be back for three weeks, you could stay there?” His panic started to recede with the knowledge that Aaden would help protect what he treasured most, Stuart and Princess.
Joe clutched his chest, feeling a very real hit obliterating his final defences. Fuck, shit, bastard, well, what the fuck was he going to do now? His heart pounded under his palm letting him know it was far too late. He’d fallen hook, line, and sinker for Stuart, and there was no going back now. He’d figured his feeling were strong after Stuart’s accident but, hell, this driving terror for what Joel could do to Stuart was wholly unexpected.
The remaining conversation barely held his attention, Aaden advised he would be in touch when he had finalised his plans. Joe was convinced he’d missed something vital in their discussion, but his tumbled chaotic mind seemed unable to grasp anything more than his all-consuming feelings for Stuart.
Needing a walk more than ever, Joe checked for anything that alerted something could be off. He listened to his body, having unwittingly tampered down his sixth sense, he let it rise. He had been taught it was a crucial part of his survival training, something he’d learnt through Joel not to take for granted.
When his body didn’t appear to think there was anything wrong, other than what he was trying to internalise, he opened the van, letting the wind buffet him as he stepped down. Feeling revitalised by the brisk wind blowing his hair around his head. Joe pushed it away from his face twice before giving it up as a lost cause. Huddled into Aaden’s jacket, he somehow felt protected as his scent surrounded him for a few seconds before the wind whipped the smell away, instead surrounding him in salted sea air.
Joe strode down the walkway, enjoying the raw beauty and power that pulsed against him. He became lost in the mood of the day. Grey, gloomy clouds were tossed aimlessly into the sun’s watery path, not allowing it to warm the ferocious wind. Froth foamed on the waves leaving rocks coated in its turbulent wake. The sounds of the sea clashed with the caterwaul of the birds, the air never silent as it swirled around him. It was part of the charm, the constant movement, sound and even the smell of rotting seaweed all added to the experience for him.
The majestic view of the castle lifted his mood as he climbed up the steep path, getting a closer look at the fortresses walls. His muscles warmed with the exercise, increasing his pace he battled with the force of the wind as he came round the back of the castle. No longer sheltered by its high walls the wind took his breath, pushing him back. Joe wished it had the strength to push his feelings away that nagged persistently.
Was it a bad thing, his feelings for Stuart? His head battled with his heart, the internal war leaving him doubting where his heart wanted to take him. The past few weeks had shown him that Stuart was not Joel, he could be a right diva, but what he offered seemed genuine. Stuart’s devotion to his family demonstrated how deep he could love, and would love his true soul mate. He also secretly thought Stuart was as enamoured with Princess as he was.
Stopping to catch his breath, he looked out across the sea, watching the fishing vessels strain to stay up right against the insatiable wind. He shuddered in relief that he didn’t have to make a living fishing. He really couldn’t imagine a worse job. Feeling the wind’s bite increase, he ignored it pushing on back towards the harbour.
Could Stuart love him the way he needed him to? He hadn’t shared his issues about Joel, too embarrassed at his own stupidity had kept him silent, shutting Stuart out. The result had intensified his worry when Stuart gave him questioning looks while trying to hide his hurt away from Joe.
Thing was, he didn’t know if Stuart was still interested in wanting a relationship. Had he lost his chance at more by forcing his rules on to Stuart? Chomping on his nail, Joe lost himself in his doubts, losing track of time.
Joe blinked several times trying to focus past his chattering teeth. His freezing limbs brought him out of his reverie, he checked the t
ime, oh hell. Racing back to the van how he had lost so much time? Scrambling into the van, trembling legs and arms letting him know how cold it had gotten. Pins and needles fired through his warming limbs, making him jiggle in his seat. Joe shook his hands in front of the heater hoping it would relieve some of the tingling sensations. Frozen toes curled in his boots trying to outrun the strange buzzing that fired through them as feeling returned.
Revving the engine in the hope of creating more heat, he considered his next steps. For all his thinking time he hadn’t come up with any way to explain Aaden’s visit without lying. Heaving a sigh when he appreciated that was the last thing he wanted to do. His only option was to tell Stuart everything and hope that at the end of it he would still be interested in a relationship. The other part was how was he going to let Stuart know he had changed his mind about his own stupid rules? Unsure when Stuart had started to become his everything, but, one thing for sure was he didn’t want to lose it, regardless of his past.
Driving back, Joe steadied himself for whatever would happen after they spoke. He crossed his fingers trusting that they would be okay.
Princess
Princess prowled around the house, nails clacked impatiently on the wooden floors making her feel antsy. The feeling that something was going to happen filled her with a sense of dread. She’d heard whispers about relationships, and was not quite convinced her mother was up to no good. Even messing with Stuart had not helped her mood.
They had fought like two hissing cats, it was very amusing, but he failed to see he would never win against her, so what was a cat to do? When he’d tried to lock her out she’d preened around him for hours after Joe had told him off, advising he wouldn’t tolerate that behaviour.
She had purred in satisfaction at how well things were progressing between them. Though, she was still slightly miffed at Brad for putting her outside when Joe had finally explained all his issues. Her only saving grace, she’d already bonded with Joe once he had removed whatever he’d been hiding behind. She was able to see fully what he’d kept locked inside.
