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Jimmy the Love-Virus.
By John T. S. Teller.
Monday is work, and, after breakfast, I dismiss the lads to their own devices to comb the beaches at Rocha Brava and in Carvoeiro itself. They can sort themselves out at lunch and collect pizzas and garlic bread on their way back for dinner at seven. It's too hot to work on the patio, so, after thirty minutes, I retire to the dining room, where I manage to put in a good stint. Jimmy texts me twice during the day, but I'm still relieved to see their happy faces when they get back. The sun has caught them, and they're beginning to tan, and Jimmy's hair is even more blond than it was before. As we eat, I get the usual spiel about the lovely lads and lasses they've been chatting up, and even a mention that Jimmy has received a text from Gorgeous George, and he volunteers to let me see it.
James. Luvd seeing u yesterday. Can we meet 9 in Cvro. I want 2 make luv 2 u. G. XXX.
I copy the text number to `call', and ring it, and when Sam's phone rings and he answers, I ask him if he'd like to swap places with Jimmy tonight, because Jimmy will be sleeping in the spare room with the phantom Gorgeous George.
They're both killing themselves laughing, when another call comes through on Sam's phone. It's from Jessica. There's a club night on in town, and she wants to know if he and Jimmy would like to meet her there. It's a rave – she says. Sam asks her to hold, and relays this to Jimmy and me. I can see he wants to go, and I tell him that he should, as well as suggesting that Jimmy go with him; if he wants to. Sam accepts, and I insist that Jimmy go with him, because they need to mix with people their own age. Jimmy wants to go, but he doesn't want to go because I'll be spending too much time on my own. I assure him that I'll be perfectly happy drinking some nice red, listening to music, and reading a good book that I've brought with me. So, they decide to go. And when the lads have dressed in their best clubbing gear, and gone, that's exactly what I do, but it's not long before I put the book down and reflect on what I said: `You need to mix with people of your own age'.
Yes, they do, but where does that leave me? I'm only twenty-six, but I've already gone past the clubbing stage. I just don't do `clubbing' anymore. Instead, I prefer to sit at home and listen to music, or read a book, or go out to a posh restaurant and eat a well-cooked, delicious, Italian/Chinese/Indian/Portuguese meal, and drink fine wines. What does that say about me? Even more important, what does that say about Jimmy and me? Yes, we love each other, and we do things together, and Jimmy has settled easily into my way of life. But the opposite isn't true. Why? It's simple: the age gap, and I/we will have to come to terms with it, or our love will dissipate into the ether of incompatibility. And to make matters worse, half of my past died a few weeks ago . . . my lovely old dad. Well, not so old, but even so, he's gone, and I'll never again be able to speak to him, nor will I ever again see his smiling face, or hear his kind words of encouragement.
I need more wine, and I pour myself another large glass, and then I sift through the music CD's to find one to suit my mood. The one I'm after isn't amongst them, so I boot up the laptop, and download it from YouTube - Adele: "Make You Feel My Love," Jimmy's song.
When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
And that's when I finally lose it, and tears pour from my eyes until my very soul is aching. I need to dull the pain. More wine, but that doesn't help, so I go the whole hog and revel in my melancholy by downloading and converting the video as an MP3, playing it on my media player on `repeat', so the song becomes endless, and the tears change to deep, heart-rending sobs.
The beat of the music is almost deafening as I sit by the bar drinking Coke. Sam is on the dance floor, performing his heroics with Jessica. Gorgeous George is on a barstool next to me, and he places a hand on my thigh. I remove it without looking at him. I don't want to be here, because this isn't my scene. I only came because I thought Sam would want company, and so that Rob could have some time to himself. It can't be easy for him having a couple of kids around him all the time. But I'm not a kid. Yes, I like a game of football or cricket and a bit of banter with my mates, but more than anything in the world, I want a relationship with the man I love. I want to be part of what he is, and do what he does. I want to be with him in bed, lie in his arms on the sofa, go out for a meal with him, and most of all, I just want us to be `us'. This shit here doesn't interest me at all. So, what does that make me? An old man before my time? Maybe, but, so what? Yes, I know, I still have some childish ways, but, mentally, I'm more in Rob's age group than a mid-teenager. But something else is bothering me, and I don't know what it is. All I do know is that I'm depressed and I have to get out of here and back to my Rob.
GG puts his hands on my thigh again, and I snap, and stick the nutt on him, and he falls to the floor, clutching his bloody nose. A crowd is gathering, and Sam comes running across and asks me what's going on. I tell him that GG has put his hands on me once too often, and that I'll see him back at the villa. And I walk out. Its ten-thirty and just going dark. By the time I reach the villa, it is dark.
The patio blinds haven't been drawn, and I can see Rob, sobbing into his hands, and I can hear `my' music playing, and I thank God I came back when I did. My intuition had been right. Gently, I slide the patio door open, and then close it behind me. The music has drowned out the sound of my entry, and I'm standing in front of my man before he notices me, and when he lifts his head, I recognize, immediately, what he's going through, and I know I'm the only person in the world who can help him now. He lifts up his hands to me, and I take them in mine, and kneel before him, and kiss his lips and rub his face with mine. There are no tears from me, because this is a time for Jimmy Turner to be strong, and when his mouth opens and he lets out a series of deep, heart-broken sobs, I take Rob in my arms and press his head to my chest. This isn't the place to cure him, so I get up, pull him to his feet, and lead him to our bedroom. Then I lay him on the bed and hug him to me, and when the familiar cries of despair escape from deep within him, I know why he's like this. I should never have left him alone so soon after the death of his father. I'm sure part of his pain is that he was missing me, too, because his hand is forcefully stroking the back of my head. And I'm angry with myself.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy. I've drunk too much."
"I know, and it's got to stop. No more drinking on your own from now on! Promise me! (He sniffles and nods.) I mean it, Rob! And why were you playing my music?"
"I play it for hours sometimes... when I'm missing you."
"Do you always cry while you're playing it?"
"No. Usually I've got a smile on my face when I'm thinking about you. I just lost it tonight."
"I feel as if I'm getting in the way of you growing up with your own age group."
"How strange! I was sitting at the club tonight thinking about you, and I didn't want to be there. It was full of people my age, and a bit older, but I just didn't want to be with them, because I don't have anything in common with them. I even told Gorgeous George to `Fuck off', and I stuck one on him when he kept putting his hands on me."
"I thought that text was a joke. You didn't really stick one on him?"
"Yes I did. The text was a joke, but he just turned up with Sam's bird. There's only one man who's ever going to put his hands on me, and it isn't that smarmy bastard."
"Can I put my hands on you?"
"Not that way you can't. Get your clothes off and get into bed so I can hug you properly. Do you want me to help you?" He nods, so I help him get undressed, and, after I've stripped to my boxers, I get into bed with him, and I wrap myself around him until he drifts off to sleep. Only when I'm sure he's well away do I move, get out of bed, and make myself a coffee. Adele is still on repeat, so I leave it be, and sit and reflect.
Tonight will have its consequences in ways that I'm not sure about. Sticking the nutt on GG wasn't a clever thing to do. I need to find out from Sam what happened when I left. I hope I haven't fucked up his night. It's half-past-midnight, so I'll know soon enough. At least the cops haven't come here, so GG probably hasn't reported me, but what will happen to the meal we're supposed to be having with the Soapies later today? I hope I haven't fucked that up, as well. I'm still mulling that one over when the front door bell goes, and when I answer it, I'm mightily relieved that it's only Sam, and when he gives me a massive grin, I know things will be ok. "Sorry, Sam; I hope I didn't mess up your night."
"Nah. George pissed off as soon as he could. Nice one, Jimmy. You're Jessie's hero for that."
"Well, did you?"
Sam has a big smirk on his face. "Just the once, boyo, just the once. More to come, I think, as long as you don't keep knocking their friends out."
I laugh. "Where?"
"On that beach we went to today. I've got sand all up me arse."
"How did you manage that?"
"She was riding me like a horse. I think she thought she was in the Grand National, cus me arse sunk about a foot in the sand by the time she finished."
We're giggling like hell now. "Did she squeal?"
"Only like a stuck pig."
That's it. We're helpless now, and I piss my pants as I'm running to the toilet. When I get back, Sam's missing, but the patio door is open, and when I look out, he's swimming in the pool. I'm naked, and I join him, and we spend ten minutes doing some fast lengths together. I needed this to get rid of some of the stress of the night, and when we stop and lie, floating side-by-side at the end, Sam asks how Rob is.
"He's had a shit night 'cuz of his dad, I think, and because he thought he was ruining my life because I'm younger than him and should be out with my own age group instead of being with him, and he's drunk too much. So I've had to give him some `Sam Treatment' because he was feeling sorry for himself."
"Did it work?"
"I'll know in the morning... but, Sam, we need to talk."
"I know. I've been expecting it. It's ok. It's inevitable. You've got Rob, and I'll be off shagging as often as I can, so we'll have to go our separate ways. Just so long as you don't stop loving me, I'll be ok."
"I'll never do that. I couldn't if I wanted to. Anyway, we'll still be spending lots of time together. It's just that I'll need to be with Rob much of the time that we'd normally spend together after school. He's wrong when he thinks he's ruining my life. You know better than anybody what I want in life, and it isn't scagging about with some of the thick fuckers my own age. Most of them live in fucking cloud cuckoo land, and half of them will finish up with shit lives. I might be fucking gay, but that doesn't mean I don't know what I want in life, and I'm the luckiest fucker on earth that I've found it. He's asleep over there, and he's had a shit night, partly because he doesn't understand yet that I want us to be just what we are, and not two separate people because there's ten years between us. I couldn't give a fuck if there was twenty years between us. I just love the bastard so much that it hurts when I'm not with him. Anyway, I just wanted to sort it with you, so we're both on the same wavelength."
"Right then, that's sorted. Let's get dried and sod off to bed. I need a wank while I'm thinking about my Champion Jockey."
Rob's well out of it when I roll back the single white sheet and get into bed with him. I said we weren't going to make love tonight, and I wasn't telling lies, but whenever I have Rob beside me, and he's naked and helpless, it brings out the worst in me. So, I pull the bedclothes back and wank myself off onto Rob, and rub my cum around his soft cock and into his pubic hairs, and because what I've done is so erotic to me, and Willie is still excited, I straddle Rob's thighs, lift his soft cock, and wank myself off again and shoot the residue of my cum into the space between his knob and foreskin, and then I massage my cream into the sexiest object on earth. Rob will know in the morning what I've done, but he's used to it by now. (I do it regularly at home when I wake with a hard on and Rob's warmth is next to me. I can't help it... I can't get enough sex, and, to me, Rob is the sexiest thing on two legs.) Afterwards, when I've sort of cleaned us up, I lie next to him and wrap myself around the man I love. My Robert; who I love more than I could have imagined possible, and who drives me to almost to the brink of sexual insanity. And then I think...
My life is changing so fast that I'm having difficulty adapting. After Chris was killed, I thought I would never again have my love returned, nor somebody to keep me sexually satisfied. I was wrong. Rob has done that for me. But, while Rob and I are getting closer, Sam and I are drifting apart, and that really hurts me. I never thought the day would come when that would happen, but it is, and I hope I can deal with it. I don't want to lose Sam. I won't lose Sam. Sam was my buddy before Chris and Rob, and I can't imagine life without him being a big part of it. Although I love him in a different way, I love him as much as I do Rob. And when tears begin to fill my eyes as I think about the situation and what's gone on tonight, I get out of bed and go to Sam. He's not quite asleep, and when I lift the bedsheet and get in beside him, without saying a word because he knows exactly how I'm feeling, he lifts his arm and lets me snuggle to him. He kisses my forehead, and I begin to sob. He puts both arms around me and crushes me to him, and kisses me again, and I fall asleep, naked, in the arms of my buddy who knows that there will always be times in my life that I need to be with him as we are now, just as I know he will always need to be with me this way.
To be continued...
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