Muscling Through (8 page)

I frowned, ’cause did that mean she thought we’d split up? And if we had, how come I didn’t know? Then I thought, I better wait until I see Larry. He’s good at explaining stuff. And he’d definitely know if we’d split up.

Alicia pulled in at this big posh house with a gravel driveway that crunched under the tyres. We got out of the car, and she rang the bell. I wondered why she didn’t have a key if this was her mum and dad’s house, but I didn’t want to ask. It was an old-fashioned bell that you had to pull on a chain. A bit like an old-fashioned toilet. It had a nice chime, though.

We waited, and then Larry’s mum opened the door. Her face went all sour when she saw us. “Alicia, in heaven’s name, what are you doing here with
that
?”

Alicia stuck her chin out again. “We’ve come to see Larry,” she said, and I smiled ’cause she’d called him Larry.

I thought for a moment Larry’s mum was going to close the door, so I put my foot in it like my mum taught me. She did a Betterware catalogue for a bit when she was out of work, so she learned all this stuff. Larry’s mum looked at my foot, and then she sniffed and let us in.

“This way,” Alicia said. She grabbed my arm and took me across the hall to a sitting room. It was really nice, with a big old fireplace and huge windows looking onto the garden.

Larry was sitting on the sofa looking sad. He was wearing these clothes I’d never seen before that didn’t suit him. I guess he must’ve left them round his mum’s when he moved out. He looked up when we went in. Then he looked again and his eyes got really big. “Christ, Al, what the hell happened to you?”

I shrugged. “’S nothing. Just had a bit of a fight.”

Larry’s dad was reading a paper. He looked up once, and then he rustled the paper really loud and went back to reading it.

“Right,” Alicia said. “Lawrence, I think you owe Al an apology.”

Larry went bright red. “What?
Me
?”

“Did it never even occur to you to
ask
what was going on?”

I was a bit confused, so I said, “What was going on?”

Alicia smiled at me. “Nothing, Al. That’s the point.”

Larry got off the sofa. “So… You and Ren… That’s nothing?” His face was all tense.

I wanted to hold his hands or hug him or something, but I wasn’t sure he’d let me, and I didn’t want to find out for sure. “I was just painting him. He tried it on, but I told him I was with you.”

“I saw you… You looked like you were…” Larry looked at his dad and didn’t finish, even though his dad didn’t look up from his paper or nothing. I was frowning, ’cause I was trying to work out what he thought I was doing with Ren, but then he said, “And then you were kissing him.” His face was all tight, like he might cry, and I felt really bad ’cause it was my fault.

“I told him to piss off. You missed that bit. I didn’t want kisses from Ren.” I wanted Larry. “I’m sorry I kissed him,” I said, and my voice went a bit funny.

“So…you never…” Larry looked over at his dad, but he was still reading his paper. I don’t think he’d turned the page for a long time, though. Maybe it was a really interesting article. “You never did…anything else with Ren?”

I knew he wasn’t talking about me painting him and stuff. “Why would I want him when I got you?” And then I got worried, ’cause I wasn’t sure if I still had Larry or not.

“Why?” Larry’s eyebrows went really high. Then he looked around at his sister and his dad with his paper and his mum standing there looking sour at us. “I think… I think we should go home.”

I smiled again, ’cause that was all I’d ever wanted, Larry home with me.

“Lawrence?” his mum said, all sharp. “Surely you’re not going to just take his word for it?”

Larry stuck his chin out. It made him look a lot more like his sister. “Yes, because I trust Al not to lie to me.”

She made this funny tutting sound.

Larry looked at me. “Al, have you ever lied to me?”

I thought about it. “There was this one time you cooked a curry with all fresh spices and stuff, and you asked if I liked it, and I said yeah. But you know about that one, ’cause you said, ‘You’re lying, aren’t you? It’s crap, isn’t it?’ Then you tried some and said, ‘Oh God, that’s awful!’ and we went and got a takeaway instead.”

Larry was smiling by the time I finished speaking, and he turned to his mum. “See? I always know when Al’s telling me the truth.”

His mum sort of sniffed. “Nigel? Aren’t
you
going to say anything?”

Larry’s dad put down his newspaper. “It’s his own grave. Let him dig it.” Then he picked up his paper again.

I didn’t think that was very nice, but Larry just gave this tight little smile and said, “Fine. You’ll be very welcome to the funeral.” Then he took my arm and said, “Let’s go home.”

When he was putting his shoes on out in the hall, he looked up at me, not smiling or nothing, and said, “Al, I’m so sorry I doubted you. Did you get badly hurt?”

I shrugged. “Nah. I been beat up much worse than this before,” I said, ’cause I had. “I think I might be up on a Drunk and Disorderly, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Alicia said. “You’ve got a good lawyer.”

So Larry drove us home, and I put my hand on his leg all the way, and he didn’t push it off or nothing, and when we were on the straight bits where he didn’t need to change gear and stuff, he put his hand on mine. When we got back home, I couldn’t wait to get close to him, so as soon as we got in the front door, I pushed him to the wall and shoved my hands up his shirt and kissed him. Larry didn’t try and pull away; he just kissed me back. It wasn’t just nice, it was fucking fantastic.

We kissed until we had to stop to breathe, and then I rested my head on the wall above Larry’s head while he nuzzled into my chest. Then he looked up. “I’ve been an idiot.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “You’re still way cleverer than me.”

Then Larry laughed, and we kissed again, and I got his trousers undone, and he pushed my jogging bottoms down and said, “Oh God, I’ve missed this.” Then he went all serious and stroked my face where it was bruised. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Take more than a few bruises to stop me,” I said, and he smiled. I wanted to fuck him and suck him and do everything all at once, but I couldn’t wait that long, so I grabbed hold of both our cocks and rubbed them together.

Larry gasped, and then he said, “Not here!” and he grabbed my hand and took me into the sitting room. “Have you any idea just how much I’ve grown to loathe this sofa while you’ve been sleeping on it?”

“No,” I said, ’cause I thought if anyone should hate the sofa it should be me. I was the one who kept getting a stiff neck.

“Well, I’m reclaiming it.” He lay down on the sofa with his trousers undone and his cock sticking out, and he looked so fucking gorgeous I wished I could’ve painted him like that. But I thought Larry would probably rather I did something else. So I knelt down by the sofa, and I took him in my mouth, and he moaned and bucked up like he couldn’t control himself. I love it when Larry can’t control himself. I moved my lips up his cock, sucking all the way, until I came off him with a pop. Then I licked all the way up and down his shaft, teasing that little spot under the head that always makes him go mad. He was gasping and moaning and saying stuff like, “Oh God, oh God, oh
God
!” so I figured he was enjoying it.

But then he grabbed my head and pushed, so I knew he wanted me off him. I looked up, and his face was just beautiful, all pink and shiny. “I want more of you,” he said, so I lay down on top of him, careful to keep my weight on my elbows so I wouldn’t squash him, and I pressed my cock against his. “Oh Christ, yes!” he said. “God, don’t stop!”

I could’ve told him I wasn’t planning to stop. But it felt so good I don’t think I could’ve said the words. I kept rubbing against him, feeling the heat of his body and breathing in the scent of him that I’d thought I’d never smell again, not like this, and then I felt him shudder underneath me, and I rubbed harder, and then I was coming all over him, my spunk spurting out like I was marking him, making him mine again.

We were all covered in sweat and spunk, but I thought I’d never want to wash again. “Let’s go to bed,” I said, and Larry smiled at me, and we went upstairs to our bed, and he kissed all my bruises, and then we cuddled until we fell asleep.

Chapter Six

Larry got his mate to come and look at my pictures, the one with the gallery up by Midsummer Common. His name’s Toby, like the jugs my great-grandma used to collect. My mum’s got them now. They’re a bit funny-looking. They’re painted to look like people, and they’re shaped like that too, but they’re all really fat guys with old-fashioned hats on, a bit like Captain Jack Sparrow in
Pirates of the Caribbean
. I like those films. I think Will Turner looks a bit like Larry, though when I told Larry that, he burst out laughing and said something about love being blind.

Toby’s a bit funny-looking too, but in a different way to the jugs. He’s got the biggest nose I ever saw. I kept staring at it without meaning to, but I don’t think he noticed. Toby said he reckoned he could put some of my pictures in his gallery and people would pay money for them, which seemed daft, ’cos it’s not like they’re art or nothing. He said he was really into postmodern primitivism. I said I was glad he liked my stuff as well as that. Toby laughed and winked at Larry, but I don’t think he was making a pass or nothing. Toby’s got a bloke already.

Toby was right about people buying my stuff. He had this posh evening do, with fizzy white wine in little plastic glasses, and Larry and me went. Larry bought me a new shirt ’cause he said I ought to look posh. It was a nice shirt, but I think I’d need more than that to look posh. I didn’t tell Larry that though, ’cause he looked so pleased when I wore it.

I asked my mates Daz and Phil if they wanted to come to the do. Daz said he wasn’t into art, but Phil said there’d be free booze and art’s just a load of pictures of women with their tits out, so Daz changed his mind. I told them there weren’t any women in my pictures, but they said that was okay ’cause there was bound to be other stuff in the gallery.

When we got there, I kept watching Toby to see how he’d manage with those little wineglasses and his big nose, but I never managed to catch him drinking. We saw my pictures up on the wall right next to all the art. Some of my pictures had stickers on them saying “sold”, even though some of the ones by other people didn’t. My mates were well impressed.

My mum came too. She wore that pink top she got for when we went out for tea at the hotel. Her eyes went really big when she saw my pictures, and I was worried she might think they was a bit rude. “Bleedin’ ’ell, love, have you seen the prices he’s put on some of your paintings?” She gave me a jab with her elbow. “If I’d known you was selling for this much, I’d of brought some of them pictures you drew me when you was a kid so he could flog them and all! I’ll tell you what, I’ll be expecting a bloody nice Christmas present this year!”

I like buying my mum stuff. I said, “What do you want me to get you?”

“Oh, love! I was joking! Don’t you bleedin’
dare
! This is your money, and I’m dead proud of you! That’s all I want.” Then she saw the table with the food and stuff. “’Course, I wouldn’t say no to a glass of that shampoo and a couple of horses’ doovers.”

“Of course, Lizzie,” Larry said, and he took her arm and took her over to the table and got her a drink and some olives and some really tiny pizzas. I felt all warm inside.

“Gawd, in’t he a gentleman?” Mum said when she came back. “You’d better watch out, love, or I’ll be nabbing him for meself!” Then she laughed and went to dig Larry in the ribs with her elbow, but he smiled and dodged out of the way. “Bloody ’ell, he’s a quick learner, ain’t he?” Mum laughed so much she spilt her wine. It’s a good thing it was white wine so it didn’t stain the carpet or nothing.

There was this posh bloke who came to the show who was spending ages looking at one of my pictures. “That’s my picture,” I told him. “I painted that.”

The posh bloke gave me a funny look, and then he said, “I suppose you must be one of these
savants
,” and then he laughed.

I laughed too, to be polite, but Larry heard too, and he got really huffy, so I had to take him away and get him another drink and some little bits of toast with fish paste on. I asked Larry what the word meant, and he said it means genius, which confused me, ’cause I know I’m not that bright, and even if I was, why was Larry all pissed off? But then Toby came round and gave us some champagne and said how marvelous my pictures were doing, and Larry was all right again, so I didn’t bother asking what it was all about.

Daz found lots of pictures of women to look at and a lot of glasses of wine, and I had to take him outside after a bit and sit him down with a glass of water. He’s not big like Phil and me, Daz isn’t. He’s little like Larry, so he gets pissed easy. But he’s not as pretty as Larry. When I came back in, Phil was looking at one of my pictures with a funny look on his face. It was the one of Ren, with just the back of him showing. The one I’d worked really hard on to get his arse right. I don’t like that painting much anymore, but Toby said it ought to be in the show and Larry said, “Well, at least the bloody thing will be out of the house.”

“Mate of yours?” Phil asked. He had to clear his throat before he said it.

“No,” I said. “He’s a student at Larry’s college. I just paid him to model. He kept trying to get off with me, though, so I didn’t do no more paintings of him after this one.”

“Oh, right… He’s the one what caused all the trouble? But you never…?”

“Nah. I got Larry,” I said.

“Oh. Right.” I thought he’d go off and look at some more pictures of women, but he just stood there. “Even with him being all…?” he said after a bit.

I wasn’t sure what he was on about. “All what?”

Phil went a bit red. “Well. You know.”

I grinned. “’S me, remember? You got to spell it out.”

Then Phil went really red. “Um…”

“You think I should of got off with him?” I asked, ’cause I couldn’t think what else he could have meant. I was a bit angry with Phil for suggesting that.