GARETH 10 -- DESPERATELY SEEKING GARETH
John Courtney
Author's note -- sorry about the delay. I gave up smoking and so I haven't been near the old computer for a while. Sitting here makes me want to smoke so there could be a few two-day gaps between postings. The chapters are almost finished, just there's some polishing to do. Due to an earlier incident I had to cut a conversation out of this chapter about how porn actors speak to each other and its relevance to ordinary gay men. Hot but not! Maybe if I ever learn how to write the dialogue from gay porn I could reintroduce the conversation I deleted as I found it quite witty as well as sexual to have two Brits musing over the way American homosexuality is portrayed in its art! I hope the use of art for Catalina and Falcon Studios etc does not offend them at the Met!
Any comments as usual to the author at the above address. I try and reply to every mail even if the person is annoyed with a character as he develops and wants to moan. Your comments help make the story better!
I don't know what time I fell asleep but I woke at about eight. It was now almost a week since the 'James incident'. It was Saturday morning and I had already come around to accepting that I had overreacted to James and Gareth's ploy. Anthony was still asleep on my bed. He was naked and his bloated cock lay encased in its condom over his thigh. I smiled. I moved to get out of bed but the sheet was stuck to my arse. I pulled away with a yelp of pain and noticed a red stripe of dried blood on the clean sheets.
SHIT! The little bastard had cut me!
I staggered off to the bathroom to survey the damage. I was shocked when I looked in the mirror. My arse was a mess of untidy red welts. The lad had really marked me. Worst of all the flesh was broken on the right cheek. It wasn't a deep wound, just a break in the skin. That was why I had stuck to the sheets. I took some antiseptic ointment from the medicine cabinet and delicately rubbed it into my hot burning arse.
I heard a gasp from behind me and looked around to see Anthony standing there with his hands to the sides of his face.
"Fuck me mate! Did I do that to you?"
"Well who else could have done it?" I snapped.
"Sorry mate!" he said, "as you said; I'm a bit too eager ... especially when I have a few pints on me!"
His explanation was sincere and apologetic but I was having none of it. I was just about to order him to leave when I thought about what happened last week. That was awful as well but I was beginning to think that I had over reacted like some operatic diva. I caught my breath and decided to hold my temper for a while; at least until I had though this issue through!
Anthony walked up behind me and examined my butt.
"Shit man! I really did some damage back there! I'm really sorry mate ... I've never done anything like that to nobody before ... shit! ... I'm really sorry mate ... I got carried away!"
I was about to scream "SHUT UP!" but I restrained myself. I took in a breath through my teeth -- "go downstairs and make some breakfast and stop fucking moaning!" I ordered.
Young Anthony moped off towards the kitchen. He was quite a sweet kid after all. Still, I didn't think I'd like to get involved with him long term. I would be better off with somebody my own age, somebody like ... Gareth! I decided that I would let him with me for the weekend. There wouldn't be any more spanking or sex with him. His concern showed that maybe he was a nice lad after all!
Anthony stayed in my room but nothing else happened between us. He went clubbing on Saturday but I stayed home to nurse my sore bum. He was drunk when he came back and was a bit frisky but I refused his attentions and eventually he fell asleep and snored all night. On Sunday afternoon he took a train back home to Leeds, he left me his number but I didn't think I'd be using it. As soon as the train pulled out I started to walk towards Gareth's flat. My mind was made up after the weekend. I would never have sex with anybody ever again unless it was Gareth!
When I eventually found the flat there was no reply. I sat on the step and decided to wait for him. I had my newspaper with me so I read that. About an hour later a man approached.
"Are you here about the flat son?" he asked, "sorry if you are it's already gone!" he continued without waiting for my reply.
"I wasn't actually!" I said politely, "I'm hoping to meet up with the bloke in number five!"
"He's gone lad! Left this morning! I thought it was his flat you were after."
"Did he leave a forwarding address?" I asked hopefully.
"No! Said he'd be back during the week to check his post. He said he wasn't sure of his new address anyway!"
"Thanks!" I said and walked away.
When I got home I picked up the phone. This would need a huge amount of courage; I was going to ring James. Unsurprisingly I got quite a cold reception at the other end.
"I rang to apologise!" I explained.
"Really?" his voice dripped sarcasm.
"Yes! I'm sorry for my overreacting!" I said.
"Apology accepted Mark, but I have a lad here who's arse needs poking so I'll call you tomorrow. TA-RAA!"
And he hung up.
I retrieved the flowers from the kitchen bin and put them in a vase. I admired them. Tomorrow would be a new day and I could find Gareth and make up with him. We could be friends again in less than twenty-four hours and then move in together.
When I got home from work the next day there was a small parcel in the post for me. It was posted here in Newcastle on Thursday. I opened it. It was a half-heart pendant on a gold chain. There was a note with it...
Dear Mark,
I wanted you to know how badly I feel about hurting you like I did. I know you're angry and you're right to be like that. What James and me did wasn't nice but it was meant as a surprise not as a practical joke. He said you'd enjoy it. Sorry we got it wrong.
I bought you a little something, it's not much but I hope it will remind you of the good time we had together. I don't want you to be angry about the way it ended but I want it to a broken heart because I have one of those.
Please don't throw this away, I'm so sorry for everything please don't be angry with me, I didn't want to hurt you but I know I did. Please don't ever hate me and if we meet don't pretend you never knew me. I felt so bad yesterday at your house when we couldn't talk. Time might heal, I'll miss you Mark, because I really love you. Goodbye!
Love,
Gareth
Now who could be angry with a bloke that writes letters like that? We would make up tonight and he could move in straight away. He loved me, I knew I loved him and we should be together. I put the chain around my neck; he undoubtedly had the other half!
When James arrived I brought him in and got a few beers from the kitchen. He admired the chain and I explained to him where it had come from.
"I knew you two were right for each other!" he muttered.
"Yeah! You were right! But there's no need to get all-defensive. I'm hoping to meet up and we can make up then."
"I haven't seen Gareth all week!"
"And he has moved out of his flat. Do you have his number at work?"
"I don't know where he works, it's somewhere in the docks that's all I know!"
"Would Susan know?" I asked.
"Suppose so!"
He dialled her number and asked her if she knew where Gareth was working. I heard her laugh and James smiled back and then he hung up the phone.
"What did she say?" I asked.
"Do you really want to know?"
I nodded.
"She said that fucking fairy probably works in the dollies' hospital!"
"Bitch!"
"He'll be collecting the two boys on Saturday!" James said helpfully.
"And his landlord said he'd be back to collect his post during the week!" I added.
I took some paper and wrote a note.
Dear Gareth,
Thanks for the gift, it is lovely and I put it on the minute I got it. I'm sorry for being such a prick -- I'm sure you know how to remedy that for me! I miss you, I love you and I want you back. Please come home.
Love,
Mark.
I put it in an envelope and walked with James over to where Gareth lived last week. I posted it through the door and we sauntered off towards a quiet pub for a chat. I wanted James to tell me the whole story.
"I wonder where he is?" I said to James as we walked in and ordered two pints.
"Probably staying with friends!"
"He doesn't have any!" I protested.
"Maybe somebody he works with?"
"Maybe he's home with his family?"
"Naw! They moved to Leeds three years ago. He works here in Newcastle, he's bound to be with some of his workmates."
We sat over at a table in a quiet corner.
"Are you going to fill me in?" I asked.
"What here?" he laughed rubbing his dick through his trousers.
"No! You know what I mean! Are you going to fill me in on what exactly was going on over the last few months?"
"Like what?"
"Like why Gareth and Susan broke up and why you thought he would be good for me!"
"Oh! Yes! Well it's not that complicated really. Gareth and Susan broke up because they were going out together for three years. They met at a school dance he got her pregnant, she had Dean and during the pregnancy they started going out together. They weren't a good couple because he was really bent but wouldn't admit it. I knew that because he liked staying in our place so he could share a room with me!"
"You're as fucking vain as he is mate!" I said.
"I've plenty to be vain about!" he laughed.
"Really?"
"Never known you to say no to the vein in my dick!" he laughed as he grabbed his basket and squeezed it.
"Get on with the story!" I said trying not to get aroused by the sight of him grabbing his balls.
"Well, when he stayed he was always horsing about with me. That's how I knew he was queer. It didn't take long for my sister to realise that Gareth was a bit more interested in me than he should be and the tension started there. Things got worse and worse between them and soon they were barely talking to each other. She used to call him fairy and that you drive him insane. By the time Gavin, that's their second lad, was born they were barely speaking. She started sleeping with other blokes, the tensions got worse and she put him out two years ago!"
"He told me she was violent!" I remarked.
"Naw! She's got a temper but she's not violent. A bit thick at times but overall she's not a bad lass. So Gareth moved out, not that he had a choice, and I would go with him to collect the boys every Saturday. Susan was never that bad to him, like she could have told the social workers that Gareth was a queer and with the way things are he'd never see his lads. He spent the last two years bending my ear. He wouldn't get involved with anybody or step outside the closet in case he lost contact with his sons. Then you said you wanted a long-term relationship and I thought BINGO! Two mates, both want a relationship, both can handle discretion, one's a bottom the other a top so put them together!"
"Very convenient!" I muttered not totally impressed with the background so far.
"There was one problem though!"
"Really?" I asked, "just one?"
"Well there was one that I knew about!"
"And that was?"
"I knew he had a fantasy for a spank-buddy!"
So all that crap in the car park wasn't true. Gareth had intended entering a relationship based on spanking from the word go. I was beginning to lose interest in him again.
"I told him he'd have to break it slyly to you." James said, "he wanted to tell you day one but I told him you'd get scared so to play it slowly! I know you probably would say that he has his own mind but really mate it was me who was advising him on how to approach you"
So it wasn't a lie, he was only following my best mate's instructions. He was immediately rehabilitated in the god category but James was on the down. Fond and all as I am of James I really began to think that he was a very cruel and sinister type of bloke. We had been mates and even fuck-buddies for years. He knew I wanted to try a long-term and set me up with a mate of his that had come from a broken relationship and got off on hurting people.
But as I thought about this there was a deeper questioning going on inside. Why had I fallen for him so quickly? Okay it took six weeks to get anywhere but fuck was I trying from day one. The fact that Gareth was cute helped, but it wasn't that, I had a burning desire to submit to him in a way that I had never wanted to submit to another bloke. Was it something in his eyes? Maybe it was his manner? Really I have no answers. Being with him made something snap within me. I enjoyed his company, loved sex and gladly gave way to his giant ego. Yes there was a cruel streak in him in the way he treated me as a plaything. That was James' fault as well but Gareth couldn't land the whole blame on James alone. No! Gareth was a bully and a conceited bastard -- so why did I want him back?
So I learned about the set-up meeting in the newsagents' and the plans and schemes behind my back. It transpired that James was hiding in the shop and Gareth was fretting as I took my time browsing. It was a tough timing job to get both of us to the cashier one after the other! I admit that I found this quite amusing. James tells a good story at the worst of times but with a few pints he could entertain anybody from the Air Force to the Women's Institute.
We staggered out of the pub at ten and walked back to my place. We were both fairly hammered. James stayed the night but we didn't have sex together -- we were far too drunk for that! In the morning he asked me about the damage to my arse and laughed when I told him about my weekend with Anthony.
"It was awful!" I said.
"I don't believe you're actually describing sex with somebody as awful!" James jeered.
"Shit we even had sex with the dialogue out of an American porn flick! Yeah man! Suck my big fucking dick!"
James laughed, "Yeah take it man! Yeah! Get your lips around my big fucking cock!" he drawled in a mock-American accent.
"It was really shite!"
"I wonder do Americans really talk like that during sex?" he asked amused by my revulsion.
"I doubt it. But Anthony does!" I laughed.
"Ever been with a yank?" he asked.
I smiled (for once I wouldn't sound like a slut) "Never!" I exclaimed proudly.
"That's because most Americans have never heard of Tyneside and so you've never met one!"
He had a point there! You don't find too many tourists of any nationality up our way! I suppose the comment was implied -- if they were there I would have had them!
James called over every evening that week to see if Gareth had replied to my note. It was good to have his company but I really felt a burning need to have Gareth with me. Each evening, just as James left, I would feel lonely and anxious that I would never see Gareth again. Each evening I went to bed alone hoping that he would call the next day. He didn't!
On Friday James arrived over with a face on him like a camel chewing shit.
"What's up mate?" I asked.
"Bad news! I was talking to Susan and she said that Gareth had called and wouldn't be collecting the boys for a few weeks!"
"Why? Where is he?"
"She said he's gone to his family in Leeds to sort himself out. She said he sounded bad!"
"Anything else?"
"No! Nothing!"
My heart sank into my arse. If he was gone to Leeds I would probably never see him again. James wanted to go out but I said I wasn't in the mood. Like the friend he is he said he'd stay with me.
"I'm going to go to Leeds and find him!" I said.
"That's a bit stupid!" he replied, "there's a million people in Leeds, you'll never find him!"
I got up and searched through my pockets looking for Anthony's number. I found it and dialled. The man who answered the phone told me there was no Anthony there. FUCK! The little shit had given me a false number.
"I'm still going!" I told James, "first train in the morning!"
"You're mad!"
"Are you coming with me?"
"For what?"
"I've never been to Leeds before and you have so I need a companion and you know the way!"
We argued but by ten o'clock the next morning we had collected a photograph of Gareth that James had at home and we were on our way to the station to catch a train to Leeds.
"We could get his address from the telephone book!" I suggested.
"Good idea!" James said sarcastically, "there's only about two families in Leeds called Smith!"
"We could try the clubs!"
"Yeah -- there's only one place in Leeds for queers and Gareth is such a scene queen he'll be there!"
I realised that James was right. This was a stupid idea! We booked into a guesthouse and walked the city trying to see somebody who would be sitting in any one of half a million homes feeling glum! It was a pointless exercise but I still felt I had to carry it through.
By evening we had, not unsurprisingly, failed to locate him! I was really pissed off but agreed to go to the clubs with James. I knew we wouldn't meet him but I brought along the photo in case I met anybody who might know him. I had already agreed that we would go back to Newcastle in the morning.
"You should have a lilac hankie sticking out of your left pocket!" James said as we sat together at the bar an hour later.
I looked at him in total confusion -- "why?"
"In America blokes who get spanked put a lilac handkerchief in their back pocket to show they want somebody to spank them!" he laughed.
"Ha fucking ha!" I replied, "after my experience with Anthony I don't think I'll do that again!"
"Did I hear somebody mention my name?" We looked around and Anthony was standing there with an Alco-pop in his hand. "You never called! Welcome to Leeds anyway? Who's this?"
Such a string of question!
"I called but you gave me the wrong number!" I remarked.
"Naw!" he said stupidly (he had a few drinks on him), "right number wrong name! The name's Richard really!"
"Well Richard really how are you?" James asked.
"Who's this?" Richard asked me.
"This is my best mate James!"
"Pleased to meet you James!" Richard extended his hand and hiccupped.
James laughed.
"What are you doing in Leeds? Come up for another session with me did you?"
"No!" I replied, "I'm looking for my boyfriend!"
"Fuck man! There's hundreds to choose from here which one do you want?"
"This one!" I said producing the picture from my pocket and showing it to him.
Richard grabbed the photograph -- "FUCKING A!" he howled, "he's fucking gorgeous! Tell you what mate, if I finds him you is not getting him!"
"Have you ever seen him?" I asked.
Richard was swaying unsteadily; he had quite a lot of drink on him.
"Nope! Never seen him in my life -- unfortunately!"
I reached out and he reluctantly gave me the photograph.
"But I know somebody who looks a bit like him!" he suggested, "I'll just go get him!"
Before we could protest he had staggered into the mass of bodies on the dance floor. James laughed when he left.
"That's the punk that tore you arse up?" he said unable to control his laughter.
It was funny in hindsight. "Yes!" And I laughed as well!
Richard returned with another drunken youth a few minutes later. Now I'm not one for seeing resemblances between people, but the washed-out alcohol-sodden youth with Richard looked nothing like Gareth.
"This is Andy!" Richard slurred.
The two of them were swaying uneasily on their feet.
"Show him the photo! They're the image of each other!"
James grinned at me, he was amused but he could tell that I wasn't at all impressed by Richard and Andy the so-called Gareth look-alike. But the lad persisted and eventually to get some peace I showed Andy the photo.
He grabbed it and screamed -- "Fuck me! It's our Gareth!"
James and I performed a synchronised jaw-drop! This chap was related and although he was quite effeminate I could now see a resemblance to Gareth, not because I could see it mind; I just wanted to see it!
"But our Gareth's not queer!" Andy protested, "he's got a girl and two kids!"
"What's Gareth to you?" I asked excitedly.
"He's my cousin!" the youth slurred, "but he's not queer! Unfortunately!"
Richard and Andy giggled at this last remark.
"Where does he live?" I asked.
"He's up in Newcastle!" he replied, "he's a fucking Geordie like me dad!"
"Do you know where does his dad live?" James asked.
Andy looked at Richard with total disbelief. "Is this guy seriously asking me do I know where my Uncle Pete lives?"
Carpe diem! I got off my stool, nodded to James and asked Richard to step outside where we could talk. I couldn't let Andy out of my sights until I had contacted Gareth! As luck would have it the two boys were out to score and weren't expected home that evening. I called the guesthouse and asked for a second room. They hadn't got one but the bloke in charge told us he would leave two camp beds in our room if we didn't mind paying for four instead of two. It was only forty quid so that wasn't a problem.
We brought the boys to a coffee dock and sobered them up a bit. We went back to the guesthouse. There were two large single beds in the room so I shared one with Richard and we cuddled up together to sleep. In the dark we could hear James fucking Andy in the other bed. Richard suggested we do the same but I told him I would rather not. He got out of the bed and joined the others and I fell asleep despite the groaning! Richard crawled back in beside me an hour or so later waking me from my half sleep as he did. He whispered that he would be willing to give me a spanking but as I had already experienced a drunken spanking from him I refused him politely but firmly.
Andy called his Uncle Pete the next morning. He didn't believe that his cousin was queer and kept saying it. When he came back from the phone he told us that Gareth had gone up to Newcastle to see his sons. He looked quite severe and it was this expression that made him look a bit like his cousin. Andy was quite different to Gareth, but the scowl was the same and I suppose they resembled each other a bit when they smiled.
James called Susan but she told him that Gareth hadn't called her since Friday afternoon. I realised that he had probably gone to find me and I (against all odds) had found his home in Leeds when he was standing outside mine. I got the telephone number and the address from Andy and after breakfast James and I went home to Newcastle. I felt sick for the whole train journey. Each passing train could be carrying him back to Leeds.
"He has to go to work!" James reminded me.
Yeah! Gareth had to work so he would probably stay in Newcastle, if I couldn't find him this week I could call him next weekend and get his number from his family I would find him this week for sure!