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Jimmy the Love-Virus.
By John T. S. Teller.
Akhtar is waiting for us at East Midlands Airport, and whisks us back home. I'm not sure whether I would have liked to have come home to an empty house, or to the house full of Jimmy's and Sam's family, which it is. Life is strange; you have what you have, and take it for granted. Before I met Jimmy, I couldn't have envisaged being part of a much larger family, which is so at odds with all I am, but now, when we're greeted like long lost family members, a lump comes to my throat. When Pauline and Tracey give me a hug, I realise that I've become an adopted Social Housing dweller, which makes me giggle inwardly. But it's nice, and because, since we left the villa, my new `family' has been informed of every step of our journey home, steak and kidney pie and chips (yes, it's `chips' now – Social Housing style – rather than `fries') and thick gravy are waiting for us, and we all settle around the dining table and tuck in. There are questions about our holiday, and loads of compliments on the boys' tan, and how great they look - all are part of the fare, and stories of their adventures, all provoke great amusement. Sam's new lover is outed, and he has to show them some pictures of her, and Jimmy is scolded for head-butting Gorgeous George, which might have caused some serious concern had Paula not seen my stifled smile that tells her it's no big deal.
This is good, and it gets better when I'm informed that two houses close together in the suburbs about half a mile from Willow Row, have been spotted, which, both families agree, `will be ideal for us, and they won't cost a bomb', plus a bonus - `there's a really nice posh house we've seen nearby that will suit you and Jimmy, if you want to be closer, and it will give you a new start away from these snobs round here'. I look at Jimmy, and he's not amused. I tell them we'll go tomorrow and look at `their' houses, and we'll look at the other one while we're at it. So, two o'clock in the afternoon is designated for house-hunting. It's almost four in the afternoon when my new `family' take their leave, and Jimmy and I are alone.
After we've waved them off, and Jimmy is closing the door, I'm on my way back into the lounge, when I hear a command.
I turn, and Jimmy is in my arms, sobbing. "Goodness gracious, Jimmy, what's the matter?" It's a while before he composes himself enough to tell me.
"Sorry, Rob; I know the holiday has been great, but all the time we've been away, I've longed to be back at home so I can hold you and love you. I nearly started crying when we walked up the drive. All the memories of delivering your papers and going home feeling desperate, came back to me. I don't want to leave here. I love this place, because it's you. I love the front door, and our letterbox. Don't let's go from here; not yet, anyway. I want to come home from college to here; to you."
I lift his head. His face is wet, and his eyes are closed. "Open your eyes, Jimmy." He opens them, and stares at me, and I look deeply into the beautiful, enchanting blue eyes that captured my soul all those long weeks ago, and I send every last drop of my love into him, and then, slowly, I move my face to his and softly kiss the tender, open, pouting lips that excite me every time I touch them with my own. What follows is as natural as the sun coming up each morning: our searching hearts and open mouths bring us together in a moment of fierce passion that hurts, not so much of pain, but of not being able to dissolve into each other. And then tears grease our faces as we rub them roughly together, before returning to open mouths and searching tongues. There's only one place we can resolve this dilemma of love and passion, so I break away, and take Jimmy's hand, and, still kissing, we walk up the stairs to our bedroom. Jimmy lies down and pulls me on top of him, and I stare down at my beautiful lover; my oh-so-special lover. Nothing else in the world exists at this moment, and I stroke his face and hair, and he does the same to me. No words. And then I break down, and tears flow from me, too; onto his face and into his eyes and into his open mouth, and I grind my teeth to try and stifle the sobs that are actually beginning to hurt deep inside. Through the sobs, I manage to tell him what I'm feeling. "Oh Jimmy, I love you so much that my heart is hurting, just because I'm looking at you. What am I going to do?"
Jimmy is sobbing now, and crying as much as I am, and he pulls my head down and crushes our foreheads together, and we stare into each other's eyes. "I don't know, Rob; I feel exactly the same. I think we're just going to have to fight our way through it until we find something we can cope with. Right now, I want us to take an overdose and die in each other's arms. I didn't know love could hurt so much, either. Honestly, if I'd known what it was going to be like between you and me, I wouldn't have come within a mile of you. Every minute I'm away from you, I want to run back to you and be like this. I know it hurts, but it's beautiful, as well. This is real love... the proper thing, and everything else is just fucking crap. We love each other, and we're going to be everything to each other, and we're going to get on with life, and then get back to this. I want this to stop, but I don't want it to stop."
Through my sobs and tears, I manage half a smile. "It's a bit like hiccups. They're a pain in the arse, but when they've gone, you sort of want them back."
Jimmy's giggling through his tears now. "Or warts. I had them on my hands once, and they disappeared almost overnight, and I spent ages trying to get them back, because I liked picking at them."
I drop down beside him, and we're both giggling and sobbing and kissing and hugging, and soon, we're laughing, which turns into mischievous grins as we undress each other, one garment at a time, and finally, our love is satiated with a fantastic fucking session. Afterwards, we lie on the bed on our backs, naked, holding hands, deep in our own thoughts. It doesn't last long; my little pervert needs more sex... and more sex... and more sex... and more sex, and he insists I get my share, too; to the point that I manage four times, which, when he's achieved this new landmark, is celebrated as he's sitting on my chest, with one triumphant fist in the air, accompanied by a Red Indian war cry as he places his other hand over his mouth and does an imitation of one. Exhausted, I throw him off me. "Come on, you randy bastard; my balls are killing me, and you've got an arse like fucking leather, and it's almost seven o' clock, and I'm hungry, and I've got to ring mum."
Jimmy has a great big smug grin on his face. "Wuss! At least we've set a new record for you. I must be doing something right... and we've got tonight to go, yet."
I throw his clothes at him. "You've got no chance. Eccles is so bruised and battered that I think I might have to take him to the doctors."
"Nah. Don't talk rubbish. I'll kiss Eccles better. With some of Jimmy's love, he'll be up and running in no time."
I'm on the phone to mum for ages while Jimmy unpacks our suitcases in the bedroom, and I'm still talking when he comes downstairs carrying a bundle of washing and he's wearing a pair of my boxers on his head, which is not a good thing to do when I'm supposed to be home alone. I explain away my sudden burst of stifled laughter by telling mum that I have a slight cough. As I end the call, I'm surprised that mum asks if I will bring `that lovely young man you brought with you last time', so I tell her I will, and I tell Jimmy that he's required to attend on Monday. All I get from him is a smirk. I know something's going on between him and mum, but decide to play this one out. Jimmy gives me the one-finger-pointing-at-the-kitchen command that means I have to make coffee for us both, which we'll drink while sitting on the sofa together, so I obey it, as I always do. Jimmy loves my percolated coffee. And we spend a wonderful evening together, just chatting and petting and listening to soft music. I daren't even turn the computer on, because I know it will be full of emails and stuff that are to do with work, and the last thing I need now, is work. Bedtime. Eccles is knackered, but Willie requires that I tell him a sexy story to send him to sleep, and then we lie in each other's arms and drift off to sleep with him not quite flaccid.
Although it's a dull day, it's not raining when Jimmy and I walk to Wendleson Crescent - a private estate built about ten years ago - after I get a call that my Social Housing family are nearly there. They're waiting for us, and we stroll along to number 14, Debbie's choice - a four bedroom, semi-detached property that had once been a three bedroom one, but has had an extension built on the side, which is, inevitably, an extra bedroom and larger bathroom with a garage underneath. As properties go, it's certainly a good place to buy if the price is right, and the price should be right, because we're in the middle of a recession, and the buyer is king. When we were discussing the properties, during our steak pie and chips lunch, I made sure there was to be no outward displays of wanting the place, and that as far as the sellers were concerned, `we're just looking at the place, and have a number of other properties we want to view before making up our minds'. I'd also telephoned the sellers to make an appointment to view, so we're expected, and all seven of us are ushered in and made welcome. We inspect the place, and are told that `twelve months ago it would have fetched £220,000, but is on sale for £165,000 for a quick sale, because we need to move to Liverpool with the three children, because Alan has a new job there'. We thank them for their time, and leave without making an offer. Next, it's to number 21 in the same street - Paula's choice; a two-bedroom bungalow on the opposite side of the street to number 14, with detached garage, but a bit further along Wendleson Crescent. Our appointment was for three, but it's ten past when we're shown in. Same spiel from the owners, but this time they need to move downmarket, `because Annabel has lost her job'. Despite their predicament, I reckon they're still holding their own, because this bungalow is priced exactly the same as the other property we viewed. Both of these properties, if we lived in the South, and not the Midlands, would be on the market for at least twice the price. I tell them the same as I told the other family, and we leave. One good thing I notice is that both are on sale through the same estate agent. I've no doubt he'll be having a hard time of the recession, and will definitely be on my side if I make an offer for both properties, and the offer is conditional on getting both or none. The Social Housing gang walk back to my place so we can discuss things, but not before I tell them that Jimmy and I are not really interested in moving from Willow Row at the moment. That wins me a gorgeous smile from my lover. Jimmy, Sam, and I are walking to the rear of the pack, and I start to giggle.
Sam grins. "What are you laughing at, Rob?"
"Sorry, Sam; I can't help it. Us all walking together reminds me of a scene from Reservoir Dogs. I reckon you're Mr Pink."
Both lads begin to laugh, and Sam says, "Sod off! You two are Mr Pinks. I'm Mr White."
I've got one on each side of me, and I get their heads in an armlock, and drag them along the footpath. "I've decided to be Mr Blonde, so be careful you two punks, or I'll cut your fucking ears off." We're still giggling when we get back to Willow Row.
It's a good discussion we have over a few beers and a nice Riocha. I've already made up my mind to tell the estate agent that I'll give £300,000 for both houses, and he can sort out what bid goes where to get the deal done, but the financial affairs are mine to sort out, so I refuse to talk about them. I'll discuss it with Jimmy later, though. A lot of the talk is women's talk, about what they'll do with what room, and how they'll get from A to B or A to C, etc., and my mind wanders elsewhere. I've got a lot of sorting to do with the houses, and I've also decided to change my will in case anything happens to me, so I take the opportunity to slip away and ring the home number of my bank liaison officer, David Wright. He answers almost immediately.
"Hi, Dave. Sorry to ring you on a Sunday, but it is important. I need an appointment with you ASAP."
"What's it about, Rob?"
"I can't discuss it on the phone, because I've got a houseful. It's a number of things, including buying some property. It might take a while."
"Just a minute then; let me look at my organizer. (He's gone a short while, and then comes on the phone again.) Right, I can give you a full hour tomorrow morning at ten. I'd sneaked a hair dressing appointment in, but I can cancel that."
"Bloody hell! I am a priority to take precedence over your hair. I remember that's the one part of you that you'd never allow me to touch."
David laughs. "Everything else was yours, Rob, so what are you complaining about? (Now I laugh.) How are things with you and that gorgeous Jimmy?"
"He wants to marry me. Just sod off; keep your eyes and paws off him, or I'll kill you, and I'll see you in the morning."
"Haha. True love. Is he coming with you... please?"
"Yes. Now do one, you randy sod. Bye, now."
"Bye, Rob. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, now."
The phone is by the office desk, and when I turn, Jimmy is standing, leaning against the frame of the dining room door. As soon as he sees I've finished, he walks over to me, drags me into the hall, puts his arms around my neck, and kisses me passionately. When we're done, I look questioningly at him.
"Remember what we were talking about last night? I miss you every minute you're out of my sight. I wanted you."
"You'll be coming to the bog with me next."
"No I won't. Your shit stinks; especially when you've had a curry."
I laugh, plant a soft kiss on his lips, put my arm around his shoulder, and lead him back to the dining room.
Later, as we lie in bed and our lovemaking is over, I tell Jimmy of my plans for tomorrow. We have to meet David Wright at the bank, and then we're visiting mum, and may even stay overnight.
Jimmy grins, and hugs me. "I'm going to meet your lover boy again. That will be fun. I think I'll flirt with him."
"What, and find yourself in another Donkey Dick situation?"
Jimmy laughs. "I'd better not then."
It's just turned ten as Jimmy and I are ushered into David's office. He shakes hands with me and, with a huge grin on his face, puts his arm around Jimmy's shoulders and gives him a small hug. I look daggers at him. He laughs, and puts his hands up. "Couldn't help it, Rob."
Jimmy looks at me, and he's puzzled.
"It's ok, Jimmy; David knows all about us. He has to. If anything happens to me, he's the one you go to, and he'll sort everything for you. Right?"
Jimmy's taken aback. "Nothing is going to happen to you."
"It might. There are no certainties in this world, and every eventuality has to be covered." I turn to David. "By the way, David, Jimmy knows about you and I, so don't try and blackmail me."
David laughs, and winks at Jimmy. "You lucky sod. I was just a passing fancy, but you're the real deal. Despite all his money, I reckon he's the lucky one. If he gives you the big heave-ho, come and see me. I'll get rid of my Jack, and we'll run away together. Right, let's get down to business before I get carried away."
I grin at David. "I think we'd better, before I change banks."
We spend the next hour sorting stuff, and when I'm sure everything has been covered, we get up to leave. Another small hug for Jimmy, so I give David the two fingers and usher Jimmy out of the room and to the car, and we set off for mum's.
Jimmy is humming tunelessly when he says, "You two get on well, don't you?"
"I meant what I said in there. Ignore his piss-taking. David knows his job inside out, and he's the one you go to. He was offered a manager's job in Manchester, but refused to take it because he's happy doing what he does, and Jack has his studio in Stratford. David doesn't need to work; his father is a director of a large company, and is worth millions. Forget him and I being an item once; we're good friends. He and Jack were at our villa three weeks before we went."
"Our villa. I like that, Rob. Thank you."
"Well, it is our villa. Everything I have now belongs to you as well as to me. I wasn't going to tell you this, but now we're on the subject of `us', I'm going to change my will so that you're taken care of."
"When did you decide to do that?"
I swerve to avoid a lunatic overtaking us on double yellow lines, and I yell at him. "You stupid bastard!" I look at Jimmy. "Now do you understand why it's important that things are in place? All it takes is one stupid fucking idiot like that, and whoosh... everything we are is fucking history!"
Jimmy lets my anger recede before he speaks again. "You still haven't told me when you decided to change your will."
"It was the other night, when we were hurting so much. I was ages getting to sleep, because I was so worried about you if anything happened to me. You'll have enough shit to deal with, without worrying about money."
"I won't be worrying about money. I'll kill myself if anything happens to you."
I take his hand, and kiss it. "Let's not talk about it anymore. We went through enough the other night, without making things worse. Let's talk about something nice."
"Ok. Find a cornfield or summat, and let's go and spend an hour or two in it. That David fella is really sexy, and you can tell me a story about you and him while we're doing it. Does he wear girl's knickers? Is his bum as nice as mine?"
"Nobody's bum is as nice as yours. Yours is soft and curvy and beautiful and small enough so I can grab every bit of it in both hands."
"I said you were a paedo. Now you've given me a hard on. You'd better stop somewhere. I mean it!"
I've driven this road many times, and know exactly where I am. Ahead, on the left, is a turn off into a country lane, so I take it, and drive slowly, until we come to a wood and a small area that's safe to park. I switch off the engine, and grin. "Come on then, lover boy."
We're both giggling as we go deep into the wood, and I spot a place that's just perfect: a large oak tree in the middle of some brush, so I lead Jimmy to it, push him back against the trunk, kneel down in front of him, undo his belt and jeans, and pull them down, together with his Tesco underpants. Willie is standing to attention, and I begin to kiss him. Jimmy pushes me away, sits down and removes his trainers, discards the jeans and underpants, strips off all his upper clothes, stands up with his back to me, legs apart, and wraps his arms around the tree trunk. "Right, paedo; I'm all yours. Make it a rough one, because my hands are tied to the tree and I'm your prisoner." I drop my jeans, and we fuck the way Jimmy likes it best, and when I climax, so does my lover boy, to a series of groans and whimpers as I pummel him against the bark of the tree. Without turning back to me, he lifts his head, and I kiss his soft lips.
Jimmy grins. "Do you think this tree will have our babies now?
"What do you mean?"
"I've fertilised it."
"Probably. We'll come back next spring, and if it's got blond leaves, we'll know you have."
Jimmy makes me stop at the same shop we did last time, and goes and gets some flowers for mum.
"You still owe me sixteen quid from last time, Turner."
"Just drive on. I've paid you in kind in Baby Wood." He grins. "I'll pay you double if you want to stop again."
As I pull up by the garage, mum comes out to greet us. I hug her and kiss her, and we shed a few tears, and then she goes to Jimmy, takes the flowers from him, and gives him a hug, too. And it's a good one! Now I'm certain that something is going on between them. I still don't say anything, and stick to my original idea of letting things play themselves out. One thing I am certain of is that whatever is going on, will out itself this visit. These two are too familiar for Jimmy to be invited as `that nice polite boy you brought last time'. And during the rest of the day, when I watch the small touches each gives to the other, and the little smiles they exchange, and mum's insistence that she show Jimmy how her plants are progressing while I sort out something for tea, I know she knows about us. The clincher is when I say at seven that we need to be getting back to get Jimmy home.
"Oh, you can't do that! You're staying. I've got your room ready. (`Room'. Singular. She knows. I look at Jimmy. He's sitting in an armchair, his head down, and a grin on his face. The little bastard! He's sold me out.) James will have to sleep with you, because the other room is full of stuff, and the bedding isn't dry yet. You won't mind that, will you, Rob?"
"No, Mum. You know, don't you?"
"Of course I know. I'm your mum, so stop acting like a child. James is more grown up than you are. You always were a silly boy."
"Did Dad know?"
"Dad? No! Of course not! He could never see any further than that smelly pipe. (She turns to Jimmy.) I don't know whether I should tell you this, James, but Robert had a few boyfriends when he was a small boy. He thought I didn't know. I'm not saying there was anything going on between them, but they were certainly more than friends."
"Never mind, `Mum!' I was the one who changed your nappies and wiped your little bum, and I was the one who put plasters on you when you hurt yourself, and I was the one who was always there to mend your little broken heart when you allowed your emotions to run away with you. And now I'm the one who knows you won't find a more perfect partner to spend your life with than James. So stop fussing, and just get on with it."
`James' has still got his head down, and is almost bursting to laugh. I point an accusing finger at him. "You, James, are in deep trouble!"
"You leave my James alone! He's been under strict orders to say nothing to you, so if he hasn't said anything, it's because I warned him that if he did, he would be in trouble with me. James has kept me informed that you're alright, and he's also told me when you weren't, and it's a good job he's been around to take care of you. I love James, so you leave him alone. Do you hear? Right, it's a lovely evening. Let's go for a stroll down the lane. I want to show you something."
As we walk down the lane, I have my arm around mum's shoulder, and Jimmy is on the other side of her, and he's linking her arm with both his. The light is fading as we come to a bridge over a small stream. Mum stops, and leans over the low wall of the bridge, and we join her. The brook is bubbling over stones and rippling under overhanging grassy banks, and a wagtail bounces from stone to stone. And the sound of an owl hooting adds to the beautiful melancholy of the place.
"This is where your Dad and I made wishes. We always made the same one: that you would find happiness. And now it's come true. That's why I wanted to bring both of you here. When I'm gone, this is where you can both talk to me. I'll always be here for you. Your Dad is here with us now. It's our special place: Dad and me, and you and James. Now, I want both of you to make a wish. (She waits a few moments while we do.) Right, now tell me what you wished for. You first, James."
Jimmy's shy, looks down, and shuffles his feet. And then he looks directly at mum with his beautiful eyes. "I wished that you would live for a long time, and be part of our lives."
"Thank you, James. That's lovely of you. I reckon I can make that come true." And she crushes Jimmy in her arms. Then she turns to me. "Your turn, Robert."
I'm grinning. "I've been greedy. I made three wishes. One was the same as Jimmy's; two was that Dad is watching over us, and three that Jimmy will always be happy."
I get a big hug now, and then mum pushes me back, and looks into my eyes. "While you two were busy thinking, I sneaked a wish, too. I wished for you to be always together, because you're made for each other. Right, let's get back before its dark."
I see another side of Jimmy as we lie in bed in each other's arms. He never mentions sex, and I know that he's set his own rules in mum's house: this place is sacrosanct, and must be respected. And I love him even more because of it.
After breakfast, I boot up my laptop to answer any mails, and also to try and do some work, because I'm falling behind. At ten, I'm ordered by mum to move my car, because, `James and I are going to town to do some shopping'. I do as I'm told, and wave them off as they drive away in mum's little Ford Fiesta. I'm really happy, and it's reflected in the way I write; without hesitation, and words flowing freely. They don't get back until three in the afternoon, and I'm informed that they've had lunch at The Tea Garden. I find that extremely funny, because it's a posh place, and my Social Housing lover is not used to such places. I ask if he's behaved himself.
"Indeed, he has. James is wonderful, and he has impeccable manners."
"How did you introduce him to your friends, Mum?"
"I was about to tell them that James was your partner, when he butted in and said that he was your employee's adopted son. I left it at that. They can make of it what they want, and he didn't tell any lies, which I thought was very clever."
"Yes, he is clever, Mum. You should watch him carefully. He has a habit of getting his own way."
Jimmy and mum laugh, and I return to my work. I can hear them chatting and laughing as if they've known each other for years, and their familiarity is growing. More than once, I hear Jimmy teasing mum, and I hear her giggles as he does it. At dinner, I tell mum that we have to go home tomorrow, because I have an appointment with my legal advisor at two. She's not too pleased, but Jimmy comes to her aid.
"Why don't you come and stay with us for a few days next week, Mum? I've got to start college on Monday, so you can stay at home and look after Rob for me, and you can help me with some homework, because he's always too busy."
"Oi you! I don't need looking after. I've outgrown nappies."
Mum laughs. "That's very thoughtful of you, James, but Robert's Aunt Susan and I have booked a five-day bus trip to the Scottish Highlands, and we go on Monday. I'll come some other time, eh?"
When we go to bed, Jimmy keeps to his house rules. I ask him how he's managing this sacrifice, and he tells me that we're stopping in Baby Wood on the way home.
My last thoughts, before I go to sleep, are that I've made the most momentous decisions of my life in the last couple of days. In actual fact, Jimmy is now as good as married to me. I hope mum's wish comes true, or I am in deep shit!
To be continued...
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