Muscling Through (3 page)

I know he said pithy, not pissy. I asked him afterward.

Larry carried on. “May I introduce you? This is Alan, a very close friend of mine. Al, this is Clive Hardwicke, one of the English fellows.”

He meant one of the University English teachers. Not that Clive was an English bloke, although he was that too.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, and I smiled at him. He looked a bit worried.

“Ah, likewise, I’m sure. Don’t let me keep you from your seats.”

So we sat down, and they said grace, but it was in Latin, so I don’t know how we was meant to understand it. It seems daft, praying something when you don’t know what you’re saying. But maybe they were all clever and understood it, and it was just me. So I just said my own grace in my head, which was much shorter.

“Do you know which cutlery to use?” Larry whispered to me.

I thought maybe he hadn’t been to one of these dinners before after all. No wonder he’d been nervous. I mean, no one expects anything much from me, but a clever bloke like him wouldn’t want to look stupid. “You just work from the outside in,” I whispered back. “My mum taught me that. I’ll tell you if you get it wrong.”

Larry laughed, but I guess I must have missed the joke. That happens a lot, so it didn’t bother me or nothing. I just gave him a big grin.

After dinner we had tiny little drinks of port in tiny little glasses. I was worried I was going to crush mine with my fingers, so I just held it and didn’t drink it or nothing. I met some more of Larry’s mates, and they all asked me what I did and where I’d studied, which didn’t seem very clever as I don’t think I look like I’ve got a degree or nothing.

Larry was in a good mood when we left. “God, did you see their faces? The entire evening? Especially Hardwicke. I don’t think he’s been so shocked since the college started admitting women!”

“Yeah, I’ve had other blokes who went out with me so they could shock their mates or their folks,” I said, ’cause it was true.

Larry stopped dead in the street, and I wondered if he’d had too much of that port to drink. And then I thought, nah, no way, the glasses were so tiny you’d need about a hundred to get pissed. Though he is kind of little and he gets pissed easy. “Al,” he said, “you know that’s not why I’m with you, don’t you?”

“I don’t know why you’re with me,” I said, ’cause I didn’t.

He looked hurt. “Why are you with me?”

That was easy. “Because you’re pretty and you’re clever and you know about paintings and you like Charlie Chaplin.”

Larry gave me a big smile. He grabbed my arm and we carried on walking. “Well, then. I’m with you because you’re gorgeous and kind and we have the same taste in comedy.”

“Okay.” I was pleased. Usually people can’t think of more than one reason why they’re with me. I know he didn’t mean it about me being gorgeous, ’cause I got a face like a squashed potato, and I know he likes cleverer stuff than Charlie Chaplin, but it was sweet of him to say it.

We did sixty-nine that night. Larry went on top so he didn’t get squished. He’s really good at sucking dick. I wondered if he’d got exams in that too, and I had to stop sucking him ’cause I was laughing.

“What’s funny?” he asked with a smile like he was getting ready for the joke.

I told him, and he laughed too. I like it when he laughs, so I tickled him, and he tried to get away, but I grabbed him round the waist and lifted him off the floor, and then he couldn’t stop laughing. So we gave up on sixty-nine and just rubbed off on each other, nice and slow, and then we cuddled up in Larry’s bed and went to sleep.

In the end, I spent so much time round at Larry’s house that he said why don’t I move in? So the next Sunday, I got all my stuff together and I borrowed a van from my boss and drove it round. We hung my punch bag up in the basement, and Larry had a go at it, but he can’t punch for shit. I told him that’s okay, ’cause he’d got me to look after him now. And then we ended up kissing and stuff, and I had him over the boxes my weights were in and was late taking the van back. I didn’t get into trouble, though. The boss just said I’d better get my lazy arse in to work on time tomorrow, and I did, so that was all right. I didn’t tell him I’d been late because I’d been fucking Larry. I thought he might be more cross if I’d said that.

Larry’s got this loft conversion. It’s a big, open room with these huge skylights and the walls painted blue like the sky in winter the morning after it’s snowed. First time I went up there, I just stood in the middle and turned round, looking at it. I guess I probably looked a bit stupid. Larry came up and hugged me and laughed. “You like it?”

“It’s amazing,” I said. “It’d be perfect for doing painting and stuff in.”

“Really? Why don’t you do that, then? Use it as a studio. I’d love to see some more of your art.” Larry had his hands on my chest, so I guessed he was talking about my tats.

I shrugged. “Haven’t got any stuff. I mean, apart from my sketchbook and that. Didn’t have room for it, my old place.”

“We’ll get you some. There’s an art shop on King Street. They should have most of the things you need there.”

“’S expensive.”

“So? We’ll call it your moving-in present.”

I felt a bit bad. “I haven’t got you nothing.”

“Oh?” Larry looked up at me with big eyes. I started getting hard, ’cause he’d put his hand on my cock. “You haven’t got anything for me? Anything at all?” He gave me a little squeeze. “I think you’re wrong about that,” he said. “I think you’ve got something for me right here.” Then he stopped talking, ’cause I grabbed his arse and pulled him against me hard and kissed him.

So we never got to the art shop that day. But we went soon after, and I got all kinds of stuff—a proper easel and brushes and paints and canvases and all that crap. I didn’t let Larry pay for it all. I think he was relieved.

I got Larry to pose for me first off. It took awhile before I got any sketches done, though, ’cause every time he got his kit off, we ended up fucking. Then Larry had a good idea. He said we should fuck first and do pictures after, and that worked pretty good. I love looking at Larry when he’s just been fucked. He gets this smile on his face that doesn’t go away even when he’s nearly asleep, and his whole body gets kind of softer.

I knew he’d get hacked off if I asked him to stand up for me, so I got him to pose lying down like he was asleep. I got the outline drawn, and I was filling in the detail of his face when he started making these snuffly noises, and I realised he was asleep. That was good, ’cause I didn’t have to worry about him getting bored no more. Larry slept for ages. I guess he’d been working too hard. I got sketches of him done from all different angles, and when my hand started to cramp, I went and kissed him to wake him up just like Sleeping Beauty. Although I guess with me it was more like Beauty and the Beast.

I thought Larry might want to fuck again when he woke up, but he was dead keen to see my sketches. He seemed to really like them. “These are fantastic!” he said. “Very reminiscent of early Lucian Freud—it’s a damned shame you weren’t able to study at the Slade. Although come to think of it, maybe it’s just as well—you seem to have such an instinctive grasp of perspective and composition, I’d hate to see that homogenised out of you. Look—like this one—why did you put the book there?”

I shrugged. I’d just thought it would look nice. Like, there was a gap there that was book-shaped? But I didn’t say that, ’cause it would’ve sounded silly.

“And this one—such economy!” Larry looked at me, and I guess I must’ve looked kind of blank. “I mean, you haven’t used many pencil strokes, but you’ve nevertheless created a strong image out of them.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “My arm was getting kind of tired.”

Larry smiled at me. I wanted to kiss him, but I stared at him instead, ’cause I wanted to remember that smile, it was so perfect. Like he was looking at something really beautiful. Even though it was just my ugly mug.

Then he frowned and looked at his watch, except it wasn’t there ’cause he still wasn’t wearing anything. “What time is it?”

I got my watch out of my pocket. I don’t wear it while I’m painting ’cause my mum gave it to me when she won on the bingo and I don’t want to ruin it. So I take it off when I’m sketching too, so I won’t forget when I get my paints out. “It’s quarter to eight.”

“Bugger, bugger, bugger!” Larry hurried over to where he’d left his clothes. His cock was jiggling about, and it made me smile. “Department meeting at eight, dammit! Need to get a bloody shift on.”

“But we haven’t had dinner or nothing,” I said. I didn’t want him to go. I wanted to pick him up and kiss him and do other stuff too.

“I’ll have to skip it,” Larry said. “Damn, damn, damn. Where the hell are my socks?” Larry was out of the house by ten to eight. He works too hard.

I cooked up a big pan of pasta so he could eat some when he got home, ’cause he doesn’t eat enough. It’s no wonder he’s so little.

The next day, I didn’t have work and Larry didn’t neither, so we had a lie in. We got a big window in our bedroom that faces east or west, whichever side the sun gets up on. I can never remember stuff like that. But it’s great, when it comes through the curtains and falls on us, all warm ’cause we got red curtains. Larry and me picked them out together.

Larry’s really sweet when he first wakes up. Not when it’s a work day, ’cause he gets a bit grumpy then ’cause he has to hurry. But when we got a day off, he wakes up really slow and happy.

I always wake up horny, and that morning I was hornier than ever, ’cause we hadn’t done nothing the night before, ’cause Larry had been too tired after his meeting. So when he snuggled up to me, I pulled him on top of me so he could feel how hard I was. I like the way Larry smells in the morning, all warm and a bit sweaty, but clean too. Larry always has a bath before bed. He uses posh soap too, stuff you have to go to a special shop for ’cause they don’t have it in Sainsbury’s. It smells sort of woody. Larry says it’s sandalwood, and it’s called that ’cause of the Latin name. They don’t make sandals out of it or nothing.

“Mmm,” Larry said. “Someone’s up bright and early.” He pressed his hips down so his cock was rubbing against mine. Then he started kissing all round my neck. I liked that a lot. I liked it even more when he moved down to my chest. He was being a cock-tease, kissing everywhere but my nipples, but I didn’t mind, ’cause I knew he’d get there in the end.

Then he surprised me by going straight down to my cock, but I wasn’t going to complain about that. Larry’s got a great little mouth. He can’t get all my cock in it, but that don’t matter, ’cause he does great stuff with what he can manage.

Larry had his hand on my balls, rolling them about. I love it when he does that. He pulled off a bit and swirled his tongue around the head of my cock, looking up at me while he did it, ’cause he knows that drives me crazy. It was great, but I wanted to touch Larry. I wanted to make him feel good too.

“Turn around,” I said. “Put your arse in my face.”

Larry scrambled round on the bed till he had his knees either side of my chest. Then he bent down and put his mouth on my cock again. It was magic, him sucking me off with his pretty little arse in my face. I could feel the muscles flexing as I grabbed hold of his arse cheeks, and when I shoved my tongue in his crack, his hand tightened on the base of my cock so hard I nearly came right then.

I knew I was getting to him, ’cause when I started rimming Larry, he pulled off my cock again and went, “Oh God!” really breathy. I kept licking him, and he kept panting, and he was working away at my cock with his hand, but all jerky, like he couldn’t control what he was doing.

I felt really close, and I wasn’t sure if he’d mind if I came all over his face, so I said, “Jerk yourself off while I rim you,” and he took his hand off my cock and put it on his, and then he was coming straight away, his whole body shaking. I had to hold his hips really tight so I could keep my tongue on him.

When he’d finished he said, “Oh God!” again, and then he sort of flopped down on me and put his mouth on my cock again, and he only had to suck three times before I came.

We had bacon and eggs for breakfast. Mum reckons it’s not healthy, but we only have it on days off, so I guess it’s okay. And it makes the kitchen smell great. I made sure the yolks were all runny ’cause Larry likes to dip his toast in. “You know what we haven’t done?” Larry asked when we’d nearly finished.

I didn’t say nothing ’cause there was lots of stuff we hadn’t done. I hoped Larry didn’t want to get into weird shit like PVC, ’cause that stuff gives me a rash.

“We’ve never gone punting!” Larry said, and he smiled at me.

I smiled back, ’cause I was kind of relieved.

“We should get a picnic together and go—it’s a glorious day out there,” Larry said. Then he frowned. “Unless it’s a bit too much like a busman’s holiday for you?”

“Nah,” I said, ’cause we can walk down to the river easy from Larry’s house. We don’t need to take a bus.

“Excellent! Tell you what, I’ll go to Marks and Spencer’s and get in some supplies. Got to do things properly!”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by doing things properly. When my mum used to take me and my sister on picnics, she just used to make ham sandwiches and bung them in a bag. She used the square pink ham you get from Sainsbury’s, not the posh stuff Larry buys that tastes like real meat. So I thought it was probably good he didn’t want me to do the shopping.

When Larry came back from Marks and Spencer’s, he had four bags of stuff. Some of them was clinking. “I got some champagne, to go with the strawberries,” he said. He looked really happy about it, so I didn’t tell him I don’t like fizzy wine much. There was so much stuff that in the end we decided just to take the champagne and strawberries and have a picnic on the Backs after we’d taken the punt back, ’cause you’re not supposed to moor punts up or nothing.

When we went down to Scudamore’s, my boss said, “Bleedin’ ’ell, I thought we were getting a break from your ugly mug today.” I laughed, but Larry didn’t. My boss let us jump the queue for punts, though, so Larry cheered up a bit then.