Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself (22 page)

He took a step toward Leslie, reaching out a
hand. “He looked so fucking happy with you. I had to teach him a
lesson. Told him no one would want an ex-drug addict porn star
who’d screwed half of London. You should have seen the look on that
fucked-up face of his. It was priceless.”

Leslie’s blood was boiling. He wanted to
punch this useless, interfering piece of shit in the face. This
cruel, foul arsehole who took pleasure in beating Oliver down.

Finally, Leslie understood why Oliver had
broken up with him. While part of him was furious at Oliver’s lack
of self-esteem and for letting Gregori prey on his insecurities to
the point they got the better of him, the other part rejoiced
because it all made perfect sense. Oliver did want him. He just
didn’t think he deserved him.

Well, Leslie was going to show Oliver just
how wrong he was. After dealing with the prick in front of him
who’d ruined Oliver’s life.

He looked around, seeing a clear plastic cup
of what looked like white wine perched on the bottom rung of the
Portaloo next door. He pushed a startled Gregori out of the way,
picked up the glass and flung the contents into Gregori’s face.
Leslie grinned in satisfaction at seeing the man howl and step
back, falling over the stairs and landing flat on his arse.

“You little bitch. You just threw piss at
me,” Gregori screamed, spittle and what Leslie now knew to be urine
bubbling on his lips.

“Oh, was that what it was? Sorry. My bad.”
Leslie was enjoying this. “You deserved to be pissed on, arsehole.
If I hadn’t already gone and drained the lizard, I’d piss on you
myself. I have a message for you, you nasty piece of shit. Stay
away from my boyfriend and stay away from me. Because I know a man
who would enjoy killing you quietly and they’d never find your
body. Right. I bet he’d just love to take you on.”

Leslie wasn’t sure Taylor would appreciate
him pimping Draven out as a hired killer, but hey, that’s what
friends were for.

Gregori’s eyes widened and he looked a little
scared. Leslie smirked. The man was a bully and when you stood up
to bullies, they tended to back off. He sniffed and turned away,
hearing Gregori’s curses and threats to ram something up his arse
that wasn’t his boyfriend’s dick.

Leslie felt quite pleased with the turn of
events. He looked at his watch. Ten p.m. Still time to leave the
concert and get to Oliver’s to confront the arsehole. He debated
sending Eddie a text to tell him he was leaving then sighed. Eddie
wouldn’t hear it above the noise and he was probably belting out
the ‘Human’ lyrics, the song now playing on stage. It was his
favourite tune by the band.

Leslie made his way through the crowd, a
little worried that he might not find his friend in the throng of
people dancing about. Finally, after what seemed a trek through an
Amazon jungle filled with dangerous dancing beasts and arms waving
like tree trunks out to get him, he saw Eddie’s red hair above the
crowd. He heaved a thankful breath and latched onto Eddie.

Eddie turned, his eyes shining. “Isn’t this
great?” he yelled. “They are so radical, I love these guys.”

“Yeah, they are,” Leslie agreed. “Listen
Eddie, I’m going to make a move. I need to see Oliver.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped. “Really? You need to
do this now?” He cast a yearning glance back at the stage. “Can we
just wait until the song finishes? I…”

Leslie laid a finger on his lips. He was
warmed at the thought that without question Eddie would come with
him. “No, Eddie, this is for me to do alone. You stay here and
enjoy the rest of the show. I’m a big boy. I can make it on my
own.”

Eddie looked uncertain. “Are you sure, I can
come with you if you need me...” He threw another pensive glance
back at the stage.

Leslie leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m
sure. Stay. Enjoy.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Text me later, let me
know you get there okay. I’ll keep checking my phone.” His eyes
softened. “Did Oliver call you, or you him, is that what this is
all about?”

Leslie shook his head. “No, let’s just say I
met someone who helped me put things in perspective. And now I
really need to talk to Oliver.”

“Okay. Remember to text me.”

“I will. Enjoy the rest of the gig.” Leslie
kissed Eddie’s cheek again softly then turned and made his way for
the third time back through the throng, fighting to break through
to the entrance, which seemed miles away.

His mind raced as he pummelled and pushed
people out of his way. He knew the minute Oliver opened his door,
and he saw his beloved face, that all the carefully planned words
he’d rehearsed would disappear from his head like dissipating fog.
But it gave him focus and quelled the feeling of apprehension in
his belly that perhaps he was wrong after all.

* * *

Leslie reached Oliver’s house an hour and a
half later. It had taken him ages to get out of the frenetic
stadium then catch a tube to Oliver’s. Now he stood on the
doorstep, seeing no lights on and wondered whether he was doing the
right thing. What if Oliver was sleeping? What if—and his heart
lurched—God forbid, he had someone there? Maxwell perhaps, back
from a flight and making a quick pit stop?

“You’ll only find out one way, Leslie,” he
muttered and gritted his teeth as he rang the bell. The chime rang
inside and he waited. The chill of the late-night air made him
shiver and he wrapped his twill bomber jacket tightly around his
body. An owl hooted somewhere and he started.

“Come on, Oliver, one way or another, you
have to be here.” He rang the bell again and after the final chime
had dwindled, he heard someone at the door. He stared into the
peephole, hoping his fierce stare conveyed to whoever might be
behind the door that he meant business.

When the door swung open, he heaved a sigh of
relief. Oliver stood there, clad in black joggers hanging low on
his hips, hair tousled, face pale and drawn, eyes hooded in sleep.
Leslie’s cock stirred just at the sight of him.

Thank God. I thought it was
broken
.

“Leslie? Is everything all right? What are
you doing here?”

Leslie pushed past him and let himself in. “I
was in the neighbourhood and thought I’d stop by.”

Oliver’s face was the picture of confusion.
“You were in the neighbourhood? What for?”

Leslie’s insides jellied and his hands shook
but he jutted his chin out and stared at Oliver in defiance as his
ex-boyfriend (
soon to be not ex
, he hoped)
shut the door. The words that came out definitely hadn’t been the
ones he’d rehearsed.

“There was this guy I know who decided to do
something really fucking stupid because he felt he didn’t deserve
the best thing that ever happened to him because some ex- boyfriend
plonker fed him a load of shit about himself. So I thought I’d come
run that past him, see how he felt about it all?”

Oliver’s eyes grew wide as Leslie unzipped
his jacket, threw it carelessly on the hall table then sauntered
though to the lounge, hoping he gave an air of aplomb that he
certainly didn’t feel. He heard something muttered behind him as he
sat down on the couch, swung his legs up to settle comfortably and
regarded Oliver.

“I’m sorry it’s so late, but I was out at a
rock concert. I met a friend of yours there who told me a few
things, so I wanted to talk to you about them.”

“What friend?” Oliver moved over to the couch
and sat down gingerly on the arm. He drew his arms across his chest
defensively.

“Gregori Golovin.”

Oliver leapt up, his face twisting into a
snarl. “That bastard. Did he hurt you? Because if he so much as
touched you, or even breathed on you, I am going to break him apart
bone by bone.”

Leslie’s attempt to be a bad boy wore off at
the look of fear and hatred in Oliver’s eyes. And the fact Oliver
still cared enough to kill somebody for him.

“No, he didn’t hurt me. It was the other way
around, actually. I threw pee at him and he wasn’t very pleased
about it.”

“He…you what?” Oliver passed a hand over his
eyes. “Hell, Leslie, it’s late, you woke me up, I’m really not sure
why you’re here so could you please tell me what’s going on?”

Leslie wasn’t feeling as confident as he’d
been. “Okay. Here’s the short version. Did you break up with me
because you didn’t think you deserved me and you thought I could do
better?” Oliver’s hitch in breath told him he’d hit the mark. “I
mean… I know Gregori said some cruel stuff to you. He told me what
he said. What I want to know, is anything you said to me the night
we broke up true? About not wanting me anymore? Or was it just you
being all noble and letting me go so I could find someone you
thought was better?”

Oliver’s shoulders slumped and his hands
moved to his hair and ran through it absently. Leslie stood up and
moved over to him, standing in front and looking into his hazel
eyes. He ached to touch him, but he wasn’t sure yet if he
should.

“I know you care about me or you wouldn’t
have come down to the accident site, or sent me that text telling
me you’d wait. But I have to know.” He swallowed. “Do you still
want me around?”

“Oh, baby.” Oliver’s voice was just a
whisper, his voice broken. “I never stopped wanting you. I love you
so damn much. Every quirky, beautiful, loving, warm, incredible bit
of you.”

Leslie hadn’t realised he’d been holding his
breath and he exhaled in a rush of warm air. Oliver’s eyes closed
and he seemed to breathe it in.

Oliver loved
him.

“Then why…?” His fingers reached out and
stroked Oliver’s jawline, relishing the feel of the man’s skin on
his fingertips. Oliver’s eyes held his and for a minute neither of
them seemed able to breathe.

With a soft cry, Oliver pulled Leslie into
him, his arms tightening, and when their lips found each other’s,
Leslie sighed and surrendered to the warm, male scent of sweat,
shower gel and a desperate mouth seeking his. He’d missed Oliver’s
unique taste and fragrance and this was heaven.

When Oliver’s hungry mouth pulled away,
Leslie groaned and pulled it back.

Oliver chuckled. “Steady on. My dick’s
already thinking it’s Christmas and I don’t want to rush this. I
need to apologise to you first.”

“Don’t care,” Leslie moaned. “Just take me to
bed, please. I missed you.”

Oliver shook his head and plucked Leslie’s
hands out of the inside of his joggers. Leslie growled at the loss
of the warm, velvety skin he’d been about to grasp.

“Oliver, I swear, I am going to self-combust
if you don’t do something to me. I’ve been a damn monk since you
left and I’m really horny.”

Oliver laid his forehead against Leslie’s and
stilled his eager hands.

“You’ve not been with anyone?” His voice was
wondrous.

Leslie scowled. “Well, no. Duh. I was too
busy getting over you, and I didn’t want anyone else. I had my
chances, I can tell you. There was Frankie, before he got all
busted up, bless him. And I did have an offer from one of the guys
at the karaoke evening we went to, but he was a bit skanky. He kept
showing me all of his Grindr profile and it was just PPP… prick
after prick pic.” He warmed to his subject. “Oh, and there was a
guy Tay introduced me to who was pretty cute looking, but he lived
with his aunt and all he could talk about was these damn birds she
bred. Honestly, I think I know everything there is to know about
Belgian canaries. I didn’t even know canaries came from other
countries, I thought they were just canaries...”

He stopped as Oliver’s body was shaking and
he was making a strange noise. He peered at him anxiously. “Are you
okay?”

Oliver looked up and Leslie’s heart warmed to
see the smile on his face, that soft twist of lips he’d missed
seeing, and the eyes that shone with tears as he laughed
silently.

“Oh, God,” Oliver spluttered. “How the hell
could I have gone so long without that crazy mouth of yours? You
are unique, Leslie Tiberius Scott. The most incredibly beautiful
and amazing person in the whole world.”

Leslie stilled. “Then why did you send me
away?”

Oliver framed his face in warm hands and
nudged his nose gently. “Because I was an idiot. Because Gregori
told me I didn’t deserve anything good in my life and I believed
him. I listened to my own insecurities instead of my heart.”

He led Leslie over to the couch, sat down and
pulled him into his lap. Leslie settled against him with a happy
sigh and wriggled his arse against Oliver’s hardened dick.

I don’t think it will be
too long now and we’ll be doing the horizontal mamba. Or maybe the
vertical. I’m sure I saw a cowboy hat in Oliver’s bedroom
sometime…yee-haw.

“I wanted you to do better for yourself.”
Oliver moved underneath him, trying to get comfortable and Leslie
smirked. “Not be stuck with some guy who was still busy trying to
make a life, get back into the world outside. You shine so
brightly. I didn’t want to be that guy dragging you down.”

Leslie kissed his chin. “Well, you were an
idiot. Just saying.” He nibbled at Oliver’s earlobe. “I like
shining with you.”

Oliver’s face shadowed. “God, when I thought
I might have lost you that day, nothing else mattered than making
sure you weren’t hurt. I realised nothing else mattered other than
telling you I loved you.”

“Message received and understood. I love you,
too. Are we going to put this behind us now though? I really don’t
want anyone else.” He laughed softly. “It just means training
someone all over again.”

Oliver nodded. “If it’s okay, I’d like to
start over.”

Leslie slid his hands across Oliver’s bare
chest, seeing him shiver and his eyes darken. “Good. Now can we go
to bed and fuck each other please? Tonight, though I’m going to
drive. Want to be inside you.”