Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2009 11:48:31 +0000 (GMT)
From: Alex Douglas <alex_d0uglas@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: the price part 10

Copyright Alex Douglas 2009

Author's note: This is a revised version of a previous unfinished story.
It's taken me 6 years to finish it, so finally here it is. All feedback
greatly appreciated. Email me at alex_d0uglas@yahoo.co.uk and I'll do my
best to reply.

= = = = =

"What do you mean, it failed?" Sean stared at the mechanic. "It's been
serviced and everything."

The man straightened up, rubbed at the small of his back. His face was
streaked with grime, impassive. "Mate, if this car was a dog, I'd just get
it put down. I don't know who you took it to, but..." His voice trailed
off, leaving Sean's mind to fill in the blanks. The mechanic shrugged and
let the bonnet fall shut. "You're looking at a new engine at the very
least, and there's a problem with the wheel alignment. And I don't know if
you noticed the hole starting to rust through the floor? Going to do a
Freddy Flintstone job someday?" He threw back his head and laughed, holding
his belly. Then his eyes fell on Sean's crutches. "Hey...maybe not!" He
laughed even harder.

It was only a car, but Sean was saddened by the news that it would soon be
on its way to a scrapheap. He ran his hand along the roof. There were so
many memories attached to it. First day at the big school. Sean had been
almost as shiny and new as the car itself, scrubbed and red-faced in his
new uniform. It was the only time his father had driven him there; the only
reason he had done so was because a new off licence had opened near the
school with a better selection of wine.

First kiss too. Or at least, the first one that had stirred anything
inside. What was his name? Glen something. Hair as black as oil and often
as shiny, striking eyes that were such a pale shade of green it was amazing
he could see out of them. He'd lived a few doors down for six months or
so. It was the motorbike that had caught Sean's eye, or so he'd told
himself. Glen was showing him how to fix something, or check something, he
couldn't remember. The garage smelt musty as they started looking for a
spanner and ended up with Glen sitting back against the bonnet of the car,
legs wrapped around Sean, pulling him into his limbs like a spider. Glen
got sent to a juvenile detention centre a few weeks after that, which was
just fine, and Sean never saw him again. It gave him a convenient exit back
into the world of denial, where he'd stayed until that fateful night with
Cal at the final fling.

The car had seen other firsts, and some lasts as well. Sean didn't want to
think about them. And this day was to be its own "last". It had finally
failed the MOT, and failed spectacularly. He checked his watch and
groaned. Now he would have to take a bus. He looked out of the garage at
the darkening sky and frowned, pulling out his phone and texting Cal to say
he would be late. Just as he was tucking it back into his pocket, it
vibrated. A message from Owen. "What time 2day?"

"Busy with car, txt u later." As he hit "send", he felt the familiar guilt
creeping over him. There was no point trying to tell himself, or Owen, that
it was only lunch. That it might not even be a date at all. Just a "sort
of- something like that." In fact, it might well just be lunch. Or not. He
smiled despite himself, and pulled the zip up on his leather coat. Maybe
now the car had finally conked out, it was time to get a new motorbike.

As he left the MOT centre and headed across to the bus stop, he listened to
the click of his crutches on the ground and was glad to have them, because
if his leg was totally healthy he'd be dancing around the street lights and
singing in his heart and looking like a big mad queen with the biggest
smile ever. The drably-dressed townspeople would throw off their fleeces
and Peter Storms, dump their Tescos bags and join in the singing, like some
kind of downmarket Bollywood film.

The bus came just as the rain started in earnest. He got on and sat beside
the window, watching the drops race across the glass, trying to occupy his
mind with trivial things so he could relax. He flexed his leg, feeling the
muscles bunching, relaxing, bunching, relaxing. Just another week or so and
he could kiss goodbye to the crutches. Then there was Christmas to look
forward to, Jack's first. Megan was so excited about it she'd been
decorating her house since November. The bus was slow, and Sean felt his
blood starting to itch with excitement as the city centre approached.

The restaurant was small and decorated in garish red. The lunchtime rush
was tailing off. Only a few people were left, sipping coffees. A miserable
bunch of smokers were huddled outside, coats braced against the bitter
wind. The bus stop was right outside it and Sean shivered as he looked at
the door. Now he was there, he was almost too nervous to go in. But it was
too cold to hang around in the street and, with a sympathetic glance at the
smokers, he pushed the door open.

Cal was sitting in the corner, his long coat draped over the back of his
chair. He was sipping a glass of red wine and fiddling with his mobile
phone. He was wearing a red shirt and black jeans, as if he had dressed to
match the restaurant. As Sean approached, he noticed Cal's wedding ring on
a chain around his neck. It made him feel sad to see it, for a second. Then
Cal looked up and smiled, and Sean forgot about everything except the
warmth in his heart.

"Hey," Cal said. "I'm sorry, the buffet's closed. Makes a change, you being
the late one."

Sean smiled and sat down. "Yeah," he said. "Well, you know me. I like to
make an entrance."

They ordered a bottle of wine and some food and chatted for a while, about
Christmas shopping, the weather, Sean's car. "Did you go to Jeff's
exhibition?" Cal asked.

Sean looked at the table. "No," he confessed. "I wouldn't know art if it
hit me in the face. I didn't want to be there looking like a Philistine
with all those know-it-alls poncing around." He thought of Jeff's friends,
at least the ones he'd met at the funeral, and shivered. They'd made him
feel stupid and badly educated, and he hated that more than anything.

Cal grinned. "Know-nothings, you mean." His voice dropped to a
whisper. "I'll let you into a secret that no one else knows," he
said. "Jeff painted a cock somewhere in all of his paintings. Makes it
really good fun to look at them, to try and find it. So far no one's
noticed."

Sean laughed. "why would he do that?"

"It gave him great pleasure to imagine the art world marvelling at his
cock," Cal said, smirking at the thought. "It was a self-portrait, kind
of."

They smiled at each other for a second, then Sean said, "So, you're OK with
this?"

Cal shrugged. "Jeff knew I loved him," he said. "That's all that matters,
really. We talked a lot, you know, about what would happen after." The
fingers of his right hand settled on his ring finger again, but there was
nothing to twist so he folded his hands. "If there's one thing about
cancer, it makes you honest."

There was a silence, but it was a companionable one. Cal sipped his wine
and looked out of the window at the umbrellas, bursts of colour on a dull
day.

"So, What are you doing for Christmas?" Sean asked, playing with his
napkin.

Cal smiled. "Going to mum's," he said. "Dad and I are sort of talking
again. At any rate, he wants to see me, whether he's actually forgiven me
or not. What about you?"

"Just going to Meg's. Jack's first Christmas and all. She's shopping up a
storm, bless her." Sean grinned, thinking about the last time he'd seen
her, joking how she'd need to take a donkey shopping to carry all the
bags. "That's great news, by the way, about your dad. I'm glad."

"You don't see your folks any more? You never talk about them, I was
wondering, like."

Sean looked at his hands. "They're dead," he said eventually, meeting Cal's
eyes.

Cal's mouth hung open for a second. "Oh my god!" he said. He took a breath
as if to continue, but let it go, and stared at Sean. Just then, the waiter
came with the food, a sizzling hot plate of beef and mushrooms, some sweet
and sour chicken and a bowl of rice enough for ten people. When he went
away, Cal spooned some rice onto his plate, his face flushed. "I'm sorry if
I've put my foot in it."

Sean shrugged. "You haven't," he said, pushing his plate towards Cal. "Dish
some of that rice out, I'm starving."

They ate in silence. The mention of his parents had thrown Sean a bit. Cal
was the only person in his life apart from Megan who remembered he had ever
had parents, of course he'd ask. He thought of the car again. It would soon
be a mangled box of junk metal, unrecognisable. The last remnant of their
life as a family, gone for good. He'd patched it up as best he could, but
it hadn't been enough in the end.

Cal was starting to look uncomfortable. "Look," he said, watching Sean
polishing off the last of the beef, "are you OK with this?" His brown eyes
were earnest. There was a smudge of sweet and sour sauce on his chin, and
without thinking, Sean leaned forward and thumbed it off.

"This?" Sean said. "Going on a date with you?"

Cal pushed his plate away, dumping his napkin in the middle of it and
rubbing his face. "Yes," he said. "After all that's happened, I wouldn't be
surprised if you were...having second thoughts."

His insecurity made Sean's heart pump harder. "Cal," he said. "I don't know
what you think is going on here, but I'm fine with it. Just a bit sad today
because of the car and whatever. But..." He was starting to lose himself in
Cal's gaze. One of the buttons of Cal's shirt had come open. He was seized
with the urge to slide his hand inside, to feel the skin underneath. He
remembered the feel of Cal's nipple hardening on his tongue and blinked. He
picked the final shred of beef off the plate and chewed on it.

Cal leaned forward. "I've been thinking," he said. "Maybe we should go
slow. Like, it's been so long since I've...well, been out on a date, I
don't know... Maybe we should get to know each other again, properly,
like." His fingers were rubbing over the space where his wedding ring had
been, his leg jiggling under the table.

"OK," Sean said. He gestured to the waiter for the bill. "You can start
with helping me carry my Christmas shopping. It's a bitch trying to carry
bags with these." He nodded at the crutches. "Then you can drop me off
home, if you like. I don't much fancy taking the bus."

If Cal wanted to go slow, then he could do that. It was already more than
he had ever hoped.

Cal smiled. "You want to go shopping with me?" he said, raising an
eyebrow. "Most people would run for the hills."

Sean laughed. "If that's a challenge, you're on."


= = = = =


Six hours later, Sean found himself sitting on a stool in a shoe shop,
watching Cal try on yet another pair of boots and sighing. The shop smelt
of leather and socks. It was dark outside, and a dusty snow was starting to
fall. He'd bought Megan and Jack's presents within the first thirty
minutes, and trailed around after Cal for the remaining time. If it had
been anyone else, he would have been bored to death. But he loved the look
in Cal's eye when he saw something he liked, the way his face would light
up and he'd smile like a child, although Sean couldn't really fathom how
someone would ever get excited about a pair of boots. Still, seeing Cal
happy was reward enough.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Owen again, wondering what was going
on. Sean took a breath and replied. "With Cal - in town shopping." He
paused before he pressed send. Owen would know what that meant. He wondered
if he would reply.

"Do these look OK?" Cal was walking around and posing in front of every
mirror, gazing at himself critically.

They looked like every other pair Cal had ever worn. "They look great,"
Sean said, smiling, hoping he looked sincere.

Minutes later, another box was added to the collection. Sean wondered how
Cal was going to carry everything. But he gathered the bags together like
an expert. "I'm done," he said. "I'll take you home. You must be bored
shitless."

"Not at all," Sean said, standing up, stretching the stiffness out of his
leg. "Was that all you got? I could have gone for longer."

Cal laughed. "Well next time, you can come to London with me and I'll show
you what shopping really is. This was just,like, a quick look around."

Sean couldn't help groaning. "OK, you win."

Luckily, Cal had parked nearby. It wasn't hard to spot the Audi half on the
pavement, the back side sticking out into the traffic. There was a parking
ticket tucked under the windscreen wiper. Judging by the way Cal was
muttering to himself, that wasn't the first time he'd got one. He bitched
about traffic wardens all the way back to Sean's.

The snow was starting to lie, making the streets look clean and
virginal. The heater blew warm air into Sean's face. He was starting to
sweat as the Audi pulled into his street. The house next door to his was
becoming something of a local attraction, adorned with Christmas lights of
all shapes and sizes. There was a life size Santa Claus on the roof, a
sleigh, a couple of reindeer. Their heads nodded as Santa lifed his leg up
and down and the lights flashed on and off. It made Sean's house look
bland.

"Oh my god," Cal exclaimed. "Thats's garish. I love it!"

After helping Sean inside with the shopping, Cal hovered by the door, his
coat pulled around him. "So," he said."Thanks for the shopping trip. And
lunch. It was...fun. "

It had been so long since lunch that Sean was hungry again. He longed to
invite Cal to stay for dinner. He leaned against the wall. "It was a
pleasure," he said. Cal was so close, he could have reached out and touched
him, but he forced his hands to stay by his sides. His stomach let out a
growl as he felt a familiar tingle in his groin as his body announced its
demands, not caring who saw or heard.

"So," Cal said again, his eyes on Sean's. His dark gaze was giving Sean
tunnel vision. He couldn't look away, or keep the grin off his face.

"Yeah," Sean said. "So. Are you going or what?"

Cal sighed and stepped forward. "I don't think so," he murmured, and
slipped off his coat. It fell to the ground in a heap, but Sean didn't
notice as Cal's lips found his and he was lost. It was light and slow at
first, the touch of soft lips and fingertips on his cheeks, then Cal pulled
away. His hands were hot as he took hold of Sean's face. "Close your eyes,"
he whispered. Sean did as he was told, and felt the heat of soft,
deliberate kisses falling on his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead. Then
again, on the corners of his mouth. Cal's breath was hot and minty from the
gum he'd been chewing. When his tongue parted Sean's lips and crept inside,
he sucked on it for a second, before his trembling hands came alive and
pushed their way under Cal's sweater, spreading out on the smooth skin,
pulling him closer.

Locked together, they stumbled upstairs and into the bedroom. When the back
of his legs hit the bed, Sean collapsed onto it, gasping. Cal stood in
front of him, breathing hard. His face was illuminated on and off by the
faint glow of the neighbour's flashing decorations. He went round the side
of the bed and turned on the lamp. It cast a red glow around the room. He
pulled off his sweater and draped it over the back of the chair. The belt
came next, then his jeans, then his briefs. His cock was already hard, the
skin around it white, the tan lines clear. Sean's eyes widened. "You
shaved?"

Cal smiled. "Waxed," he said. "And yes, it hurt like a bastard. I kind of
like it, though."

Looking back at Cal's cock, Sean thought he was going to burst his
jeans. He sat up, pulling off his jumper, as Cal crept onto the bed. "Allow
me," Cal said, pulling at Sean's belt, his eyes never leaving Sean's. His
deft fingers soon had Sean's buttons open, and he slid the rough denim down
over Sean's hips towards his knees. His boxers came down with them and his
rigid cock slapped against his stomach as it was freed. He felt Cal's gaze
brush over his skin, the silence filled with their breaths. "Lovely," Cal
chuckled. "I always wanted to see if it looked as good as it felt. You got
lube?"

Sean pointed at the bedside cabinet. He could barely speak, breathless with
anticipation as he watched Cal pull the tube from the drawer then straddle
him. At the touch of Cal's flesh on his, he couldn't help groaning. It was
the first time Cal had ever touched him there, and he shuddered and
strained upwards as if his body was acting independently, his cock pushing
into Cal's slippery hand. Cal's eyes locked on his again, and the look of
lust on his face was like an aphrodisiac all in itself. Cal pressed Sean's
cock against his own, and started sliding his hands up and down, up and
down, slowly, achingly, until Sean was almost writhing with the need for
harder, faster contact. Trapped between Cal's thighs, he could do nothing
but lie there and soak up the tortuous feelings of pleasure that flooded
his body as his cock pulsed and throbbed in Cal's hand. Cal's cock was
leaking all over his, the slippery hot pressure of it driving him
insane. Cal was breathing faster and faster, his movements speeding up
until finally he came. Sean watched the veins standing out on his neck as
he let out a cry and threw his back, his orgasm hitting Sean like a
quake. He felt it in his balls, in the squeeze of Cal's thighs, the twitch
in Cal's balls as his sperm shot out over Sean's stomach and cock. He was
almost there with too, but when Cal finally relaxed again. he slid back
down Sean's body. Still breathing hard, he began to lick his cum off Sean's
stomach, running his slick tongue over the head of Sean's dick, bathing it
in his his own fluids. Eventually taking it into his mouth and sucking
until Sean was clutching at the bedsheets and firing deep into his throat,
helpless under the force of his climax.

Then the kiss, deep and slick and wet, the taste of their combined orgasms
on Cal's tongue. When Sean could see again, he rolled over, taking Cal's
hands in his and kissing his fingertips, gazing into his eyes. "That was
the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen," he said, as his breathing
settled again, warm waves still radiating through his body, his heart.

Cal smiled and cuddled against him, sliding a leg in through Sean's. His
finger circled Sean's nipple, then brushed over the scar at the side of his
chest. "What's that?"

"Chest tube," Sean said. "From the accident. My lung got punctured when my
ribs smashed."

"My god," Cal whispered, resting his head on Sean's shoulder, spreading his
hand out over Sean's sticky stomach.

Sean stroked his hair, thinking of that day for the first time in ages. "It
was raining, and there must have been an oil patch or whatever, the bike
just started to slide and my leg was caught underneath it. I just remember
thinking "oh shit", but not much after that. If it wasn't for the
paramedics, I wouldn't be here." Saying that had become almost automatic,
every time he told the story. But with Cal's warm body pressed against him,
he finally knew how much it mattered. For a long time, he'd been bitter
about the loss of everything he'd built his life around, just from a
second's carelessness. He breathed in the smell of Cal's body and closed
his eyes, wondering how it was possible to be so happy. "I lost one life, I
got another one," he said sleepily. "I'd go through it all again, just to
be with you."

Cal was silent, running his hand over Sean's stomach, playing with his
belly button. "Promise me something, Sean," he said, looking up into his
face. He shook his head and bit his lip. "Don't," he said. "Don't get
another motorbike."

"Come here," Sean said, and pulled Cal into his arms, kissing his
head. "You'd love it," he said. "I'll take you out on a bike someday, the
wind just blows your head off and apart from skydiving, it's as free as
you'll ever feel. Plus, you'll get to sit with your arms around me and your
cock at my arse. What more could you want?"

There was a snort of laughter. "I'm just scared," Cal said eventually, his
breath hot against Sean's skin. "I keep thinking...something awful's going
to happen."

"My boss at the skydiving centre has this tile on the wall behind his
desk," Sean said. "It says 'if you aren't afraid, you have nothing to
lose.' I always thought that was, like, positive. But it's a bad thing,
really, isn't it? Not to be afraid of anything?" He looked at Cal's face,
the worry lines hovering in his forehead, and traced them with his
finger. "I swear to you, as long as I'm alive, I'll never leave you. Now
that's my words of wisdom for today, why don't you make yourself useful and
go and make some fucking food? I'm starving."

Cal sat up and smiled. "I love you," he said. A glint came into his eye and
he raised an eyebrow. "Salad?"

"Depends what you're using for the dressing," Sean said, laughing. "That
last stuff did wonders for my hair."

He watched Cal getting up, reaching for his shirt, tripping over his pants
and laughing. His heart was thumping in his chest, almost bursting with
happiness.  All the small stuff, always the small stuff. The sign of Cal's
white arse was making him hard again. He checked his watch. It was only
eight o'clock. It was going to be a long weekend.


= = = = =


-THE END-