Date: Sun, 06 Nov 2005 12:48:06 +0100
From: tsunami@london.com
Subject: The Nurse, Part2

The Nurse, by mattbuck
Part 2

All comments are appreciated - email tsunami@london.com

Other stories I've written can be found on my website, in the fiction
section http://mattbuck.sixwinter.com


Usual disclaiming sort of stuff, I don't know McFly, I don't know their
sexualities, this story is not in any way based on real life events. Oh,
and it contains gay sex, so please make sure you're 18.


      It was probably about three when I woke up again. I coughed, so
popped a strepsil out of its packet on the bedside table. There was a thump
at the door, followed by a beep. It opened, and Danny stumbled through,
nearly falling over. Drunk, of course. The door clicked behind him, leaving
the only light the glow from the bedside lamp.

      "Oh, wasn't meant to wake you," he grinned widely, "oops."

      "Don't worry, I was awake."

      "Pity you didn't come, that was a great club. Cheap drinks. Hot
lesbians.  There was a really fat camp guy who kept coming on to Dougie. It
was hilarious!"

      I'm pretty certain I knew that guy... or at least I met him once. It
was at the first university alternate sexuality society meeting of the
year. Probably the same guy anyway... he had the weakest handshake ever,
was dressed in skin-tight clothes and looked rather like Daffyd Thomas from
Little Britain. It was rather freaky. I avoided him for the rest of the
evening, talked more to people who looked vaguely normal or cute.

      Danny started trying to take off his shirt, and I say trying
meaningfully. He couldn't quite manage to get the buttons undone, and ended
up trying to pull the shirt over his head where it just got stuck. I
couldn't help but laugh. And cough. Bloody freshers' flu...

      I got out of bed, glad the room was still fairly warm, and went over
to him. I have some slight experience with drunks, mostly from a cute guy
called Ed at uni, who I totally failed to get off with, though not for lack
of trying. Each night, Ed would end up totally wasted. I think he just got
taken up to his room and shoved in the door, so unfortunately I never got
any practice undressing drunk guys.

      First time for everything.

      I stood behind him and pulled his shirt back down so he could see
again, then, leaning over his shoulder, my arms around him, I started
undoing his buttons. He laughed in a way that was almost giggling, and
started nuzzling my cheek, his soft lips grazing against the stubble of my
chin, warm breath so inviting against my skin.

      Two buttons to go and I felt his tongue against my cheek. It was
almost as if I was on stage with him... he loved titillating the crowd with
the slashiness. He'd licked Dougie onstage that evening, then spanked Tom's
ass. One day they'll actually kiss on stage. I don't know which two, but it
will happen someday... or so a lot of people hope anyway. I'm told that
their video for I Wanna Hold You involves two of them getting married, but
I don't have the CDs yet (crappy HMV), so I don't really know.

      I stood a step back, and helped him pull off the dark blue shirt,
momentarily marvelling how even after all that he still managed to get it
caught on his watch.  Finally we got it off, and Danny chucked it vaguely
over in a corner, but it managed to get stuck on the central light

      "Can you manage the rest yourself?" I asked.

      "Nope."

      It was said with a grin. You could fucking tell. Fine. He wanted to
tempt me.  Bastard. All I wanted was to jump him, taste his lips on
mine. But not when he was drunk. I'd hate myself.

      I wrapped my arms around his upper body, again leaning over his
shoulder.  Given his state of mind I didn't want to risk my head being that
close to his boxers, it wouldn't be good for me. My fingers grazed over his
stomach before settling on the belt of his jeans. I closed my eyes, burying
my face in the nape of his neck, breathing in as much as I could of his
intoxicating aroma. Mostly sweat, probably some smoke, and a hint of
alcohol. Possibly something orange. He started grinding his ass against
me. I only had boxers on, so that... It was worse than a dream
really. Because here....  He was offering all I wanted, for real, but I
couldn't say yes. At least in dreams you can say yes, because it's only an
illusion.

      Even with his "help", I managed to undo his jeans, pushing them down,
thankful in a way that they didn't pull his boxers off with them. That
would just have been more than I could cope with. He managed to push his
shoes off without my help, which finally got him down to as much as he'd
worn on that piano. Screw the socks, if he really cared he could do them
himself. I pulled away, his skin momentarily sticking to mine, walking back
to the bed.

      "Matt," his voice right behind me. I turned, "want to make out?"

      Make out. What an Americanism. Where the hell does it come from
anyway?  Who decided to call kissing (or maybe light fondling) "making
out"? It seriously makes no sense.

      I smelt his breath.

      And even if the breath between us smells of alcohol...

      "Ask again when you're sober."

      You call it confusion in the best way possible...

      His face formed an "o" as he tried to figure it out. Idlewild's In
Remote Part/Scottish Fiction, in case you care. I climbed into bed, pulling
the covers around me. A slight sloping of the mattress signalled Danny had
climbed in too. Shaking as he wriggled. Then an arm snaked around me as he
nuzzled into the back of my neck, his body pressed against mine.

      "That's nice," followed by a contented sigh.

      I took his hand in mine, my thumb softly stroking over his
fingers. Heaven on Earth, or close enough.



      It was a bit before eight, I think, when I got woken up. Danny was
trying to extricate himself from me. During the night we'd apparently got a
bit more entangled.  Lucky me. I let him pull his leg from between mine
before admitting to him I was awake by saying good morning.

      "Um... hey, Matt..." he said, almost warily. "You ok?"

      "Uh..." I coughed. Dammit. "Probably better than last night. You?"

      "Bit of a hangover... look, about last night... did we... I mean... I
just woke up naked in bed with another guy..."

      "I told you to ask again when you were sober."

      "Oh... right. I'll... go take a shower or something... Erm, 'scuse."

      He got up, taking the duvet with him, wrapping it around himself,
trailing it into the bathroom. I shivered in the sudden cold, and quickly
got up to put on my clothes. I noticed there was actually a pair of boxers
on the bed. Guess he did mean he woke up naked. Of course, that begged the
question of when they'd come off, and if... well, if really. I mean, I'd
have thought I'd wake up but you never know. My pants seemed fine, so I
guess they just came off in whatever movements had got us so
entangled. Wonder how much they'd sell for on ebay. No, no selling, no
sniffing, and no stealing. Besides, things don't retain their smell very
long. Especially if they get involved in playtime. Going from horizontal to
vertical, though, caused another fit of coughing. I took a dose of cough
mixture, thoroughly revolting as it was. Simple linctus flavour, it said. I
had to wonder if there was a complex linctus flavour, and if that tasted
any better. Probably not on both counts. Still, my Grandma always claimed
that medicine was only doing you good if it tasted horrid, so on that basis
it must be good. It was still better than that rhubarb and custard flavour
I had once... I mean, seriously, rhubarb and custard cough syrup? The mind
boggles.

      Danny was probably about half an hour in the bathroom - quite how you
spend that long in a shower without having someone else in there rather
confuses me, but that's the way it goes. Cookies crumbling, etc etc. I just
pulled as chair up to the window and sat watching the start of the morning
rush hour. A click of the door announced his re-entry to the room, but I
made a point of not turning round until I knew he would be fully
dressed. He gave a little cough, to which I could only respond with a huge
volley of my own. He came over, placing a comforting hand on my back,
waiting patiently until I stopped coughing again. I knew he was concerned
without him saying anything, I guess in a way it seemed to be who he was.

      "Mornings aren't great," I croaked. "It'll be alright in about half
an hour probably."

      His hand started rubbing in slow circles through a few moments'
silence, then removed. A moment's discomfort for him it seemed, covered up
by a hurried question about breakfast, and a quick retreat to phone for two
servings of a full English breakfast with orange juice or something. I went
into the bathroom for a few minutes and when I came back there were two
plates on the table, both steaming gently. I sat down opposite Danny,
starting in on the fried bacon, so much better than the cinders they try to
convince us is breakfast back at Uni, but also so much hotter, so much more
oh god my mouth is on fire, where's my drink dammit?

      Something like that anyway.

      We ate in silence for a few minutes, me taking slightly more care to
make sure it was actually cool enough to eat this time. After a while, we
started talking, just about life in general, probably more about me than
him - I mean, his life was fairly open to the public, which in a way I felt
sorry for. I'd hate to have people following me everywhere, be unable to go
shopping without a horde of teenies screaming in those high-pitched voices
somewhat akin to one of those annoying blonde bitches on Big Brother some
years back... I don't remember the name, I just remember everyone
everywhere was suddenly saying "OHMIGAWD!" It pissed me off immensely.

      "Uh, you've got something..." I said, pointing to my upper lip. His
tongue snaked out, licking up the red stain of tomato ketchup, then
completing a slow circuit of his lips, almost as if enticing me. A smile
danced across his face. He was so incredibly animated. It was almost
inconceivable that he should ever be still.

      "When do you need to be back at uni?" He asked, breaking my
entrancement.

      "Uh, sometime this afternoon I think. Foundations of Pure Mathematics
and Vector Calculus lectures if I remember correctly."

      "Sounds boring."

      "Ah, not everyone can make enough money to retire by the time they
hit twenty five."

      "Retire? I'm doing this forever mate. They'll have to pry the guitar
from my cold dead hands. Anyway... I just want to say, thanks for what you
didn't do last night - I'm a horny drunk." His face split into a huge grin,
and I couldn't help but smile back. This could only end too soon.

      "Just make sure next time you're not drunk so I can say yes." This
would be a test, how will he take it...

      "I'll keep that in mind, mate."

      A rather awkward silence fell over us. Too far. I stood up, looking
around the room for my fleece.

      "You know, I probably should get going, I'm sure you've got stuff you
need to do."

      "Oh, okay mate. You had a poster when you came I think - do you want
me to sign it or something? Proper souvenir?"

      I'd forgotten that.

      "Oh, sure, if it's not too much trouble."

      "No problem - I'll sign anything if it stays still long enough. Do
you want me to get the guys round so they can sign it too?"

      "No thanks. Just you - it would mean more to me that way."

      "I get the feeling I might just be someone's favourite - any
particular message?"

      Bloody flirtatious. Bastard. God. Something (hot).

      "Whatever you like - just not Dougie-weird."

      He laughed loudly, harsh but to my ears more beautiful than a dawn
chorus (actually that's a bad comparison - the dawn chorus has always
annoyed me. If only true songbirds sang at dawn it would be fine, but no,
you get seagulls and crows and other avian equivalents of Pop Idol
contestants. Ruins it totally).

      His pen started leaving its black scrawl across the top of the
poster, Danny's tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration
- real or fake I wasn't sure.  It was rather cute.

      I think I might be slightly besotted. His next words were a clincher.

      "So, when I'm next ill, I'm staying at yours?"

      "Uh, if you want to."

      I'd really thought he was joking last night.

      "Well, I kind of need your phone number then." He said it gently, I
blushed anyway. Stupid, stupid, stupid. A minute or two to find some paper
to write down my email address and phone number on, and add his to my
mobile. Standing by the open door. I held out a hand to shake, but he just
pulled me into a rather startled hug.

      "Good to meet you, mate," he murmured by my ear.

      "Thanks for letting me stay."

      "Anytime." A wetness against my ear. "Bye mate."

      "Bye."

      The door shut behind me. I just stood there a few moments, raising my
hand to my almost-burning ear. He actually licked me.

      He'd made me feel like the most important person in the world to him.

      I was so his.