All through this, Alfie had kept hold of his hand. He didn’t say anything or explain why, so Mick talked and talked about his life. He was eighteen and unemployed. All he wanted to do was write stories.
“I’ll bring you some paper if you want.” Alfie couldn’t have said any words which would have made him happier. He told him about his ideas and again Alfie listened. He scribbled his thoughts down and read them out loud for Alfie. When he laughed, Mick smiled and felt good inside. Within two weeks, he knew he was absolutely and completely in love for the first time in his life, but with a man.
As soon as he got home from the hospital, he’d told his mother about Alfie and how he felt about him. She’d freaked. Scared, he’d run out and called Alfie for help. They’d met in a local café. “She told me I was unnatural, and that I’d get AIDs or something. She said I had to choose—you or her. What do I do, Alfie?” Mick had just poured out his feelings, unable to stop himself, and then sat there hoping that…well, just hoping. Despite the fact there were other people in the café, Alfie had taken his hands, looked straight at him, and wiped a tear drop from his cheek.
“I want you to come home with me now. I want you with me. You need to leave her, Mick. I know it’s going to be hard, but if you love me as you say you do, you’re going to have to spread your wings.”
Mick had gone home with him. That night, Alfie had slowly removed his clothes and touched him all over, then made love to him and taught Mick how to make love back. They’d had three years together.
§ § §
“So what’s the DVD today then?”
Mick looked up to see Ceri leaning nonchalantly against the door jamb. His hair remained the same colour, but was tied back so Mick could see each ear had many piercings. Ceri smiled broadly, and his trousers clung to his legs like a second skin. Butterflies fluttered in Mick’s stomach. No one since Alfie had made him react this way. He didn’t understand it; Ceri was nothing like Alfie. He was narrow where Alfie had been broad, average where Alfie had been tall, graceful whereas Alfie had been more like a bull in a china shop, and Ceri was younger than him, whereas Alfie had been older. Mick had always felt so small in his arms, so protected and above all safe. He couldn’t imagine that with Ceri. It was a total cliché, but Alfie had looked after him, and he didn’t think Ceri was the looking after type, but he lingered there, still smiling, and that Mick couldn’t ignore.
“It’s
Angel,
series two. I watched
Buffy,
so I figured I’d continue through,” Mick said, pressing the pause button.
“Yum, Spike, he was so handsome. I always preferred him to Angel. I guess I like the bad boys a bit too much! What do you think? Spike or Angel?”
And there it was. Ceri telling him he liked men, putting it out there for Mick to process. How he answered could make all the difference. Did he want Ceri to go away, or to try harder to get his attention?
“I liked Spike’s coat,” Mick said neutrally.
“Yeah, what is it with men and their swishy coats in sci-fi programmes? So you’re more of a Buffy fan,” Ceri added, still obviously fishing. Mick thought for a moment before answering.
“No, I preferred Giles,” he admitted.
“Interesting,” Ceri replied.
Before he could continue, Mick said, “You’d better get finished.”
“In a hurry to get rid of me then?” Ceri smiled pleased to see Mick blush. “Maybe next week I’ll ask you out to breakfast again, and you can tell me why you like Anthony Head so much.”
CHAPTER 3
Monday morning, dead on 6:30, Ceri pulled up at the gate. He pressed the buzzer, ridiculously pleased to hear Mick tell him to come in. He unloaded the supplies into the small stock room and wheeled the first trolley load into the lift to begin stocking up the various machines. As he wandered around, Ceri thought about Mick and why he was even trying to get to know him. Mick and his usual type were poles apart. He looked up to the camera and waved, hoping it would make Mick smile. He had no idea why that was so important to him. When he finished his round, he headed to Mick’s office once more.
“Morning,” he said cheerfully. “Good weekend?” Mick looked up, and Ceri noticed the slightest of smiles. Suddenly, a faint light of hope switched on at the end of the tunnel. Maybe Mick was interested in him after all.
“You dyed your hair again,” Mick answered. Ceri noticed that he didn’t tell him anything about how he’d spent the weekend. “It looks good orange; it suits you. Did
you
do anything interesting this weekend?”
Hmm, deflect a question with a question.
“No, not really, just practising.”
“For what?”
“I skateboard. I’m hoping to do better in this year’s county championships. You ever skateboarded?” Ceri asked.
“Nah, my mother would never have allowed me to do anything so dangerous. Are you any good?” he asked Ceri.
“I’m good, but I don’t think I’m good enough to win anything. You should come and watch me practice. Maybe have a go yourself.”
“I’m no good at anything like that,” he said. “I used to avoid PE if I could. TV was more my thing. Ever watched
Doctor Who
?” From the expression on Mick’s face, Ceri guessed this question mattered. He carefully considered his answer.
“I may have watched a few. So, who’s your favourite Doctor then?”
This was definitely something they could talk about.
“My favourite is Tom Baker, the fourth Doctor,” Mick replied tersely.
“Oh, I loved his scarf. I quite liked Matt Smith, he’s a lot like the second Doctor, but my favourite is the ninth. He’s all dark and brooding. I bet you thought I’d say David Tennant!”
“Well, it did cross my mind,” Mick replied, smiling shyly. “And how come you know about the second Doctor?”
“I said I’d seen a few. I just happen to like
War Games,
and who could resist Jamie in a kilt, although my favourite companion is…”
“Captain Jack Harkness,” they said in unison.
“Oh yeah,” Ceri said wistfully. “I could do bad things with him.” Sensing he was on a roll, he ventured, “Come, have breakfast with me, Mick, I’m starving, and we could talk
Who
some more.”
“You look like you could do with a square meal,” Mick joked. Ceri sensed he’d relaxed now he knew Ceri was a real fan of his favourite show.
“What? I’m naturally skinny. My sister hates me because I eat like a horse and never put on any weight. Skateboarding is good exercise. I’ll meet you down in the loading bay,” he finished, not giving Mick a chance to argue.
“Okay, give me thirty-five minutes.”
“Sure. Good. I’ll wait in the van.” Ceri sauntered away, whistling to himself.
Well, at least I got him to agree to come out.
§ § §
“Aren’t we going straight to the café?” Mick asked when they drove past.
“Not yet, I’ve got to drop the van off first. You’ll be all right on the back of my bike, won’t you? It’s not far, and I’ve got a spare helmet in my locker.”
“You drive a motorbike,” Mick replied. “I’ve never been on one. Aren’t they really dangerous?” Ceri noticed the edge in his voice. There was genuine fear there. “As I said, it’s only a little way, and you can hang on to me if you want; I won’t mind. Come on, you’re going to the café, live a little. Anyway, you haven’t seen me in my full leathers!” Ceri beamed, pleased to see a slight smile on Mick’s face.
He parked the van and changed quickly into his gear. He wanted Mick to be watching when he sauntered across the yard. The other man was examining the bike when Ceri opened the door to the car park. It was Ceri’s pride and joy, and most of his income went on paying for it. He lived in a shared house so his rent wasn’t too exorbitant to allow him to have this one indulgence. Mick looked up and scanned Ceri from head to toe. Suddenly, the room in his pants diminished as his cock sprang to life.
§ § §
Mick stared, wide eyed, at the sight in front of him.
Oh God
,
when did I get a thing for men in leather?
He didn’t understand why this man should affect him so much. He’d got him out of his routine, and now he was going to get him on the back of a bike.
“Ready?” Ceri said, handing over the helmet. “I’ll get on first, and you get behind me. Put your arms around my waist and hold on. I won’t go too fast.” Mick nodded. It felt awkward clasping Ceri, but being so thin, Mick could reach all the way around and grab his other hand.
“Comfortable?” Ceri asked.
Surprised at himself, Mick found he was less worried with his arms around Ceri as he drove the powerful machine through the morning traffic to the café.
“Okay?” Ceri asked him when they arrived. “I didn’t go too fast for you?”
“No,” Mick replied letting Ceri go and swinging his leg over the back of the bike. He removed his helmet. “I enjoyed it more than I expected.”
Ceri grinned at him. “We’ll make a biker of you yet.”
Once inside, Mick selected a table at the back of the room, out of the way.
“Choose what you want,” Ceri said. “I asked you, so it’s on me. I’m having the full English without tomatoes. I can’t stand them. Are you all right?”
Mick stared at the menu. There were so many things to choose from. He had no idea what to do. How did he decide? It was Monday—on Mondays he had cornflakes and a mug of tea. They had cereals on the menu. He could have his usual.
“I’ll just have cornflakes and tea,” he said.
“It’s all right. I can afford it if you want more. At least have something hot. A bacon butty, or are you a vegetarian? Sorry, I didn’t think about that. They do great omelettes here.”
Mick didn’t know what to say; Ceri had obviously misunderstood. “I’m not a vegetarian, it’s just that it’s Monday.” He stopped. Ceri would think he was mad. He wouldn’t understand that it was easier to buy small packets of cereal and eat them over the week. Each variety pack had six packets. On Thursday, when he shopped, he bought breakfast at the supermarket, and then he had a bacon sandwich with his mug of tea. He could just adjust his routine and have the cornflakes on Thursday, couldn’t he? He breathed a sigh of relief.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll have a bacon butty, as you call it, and tea, just breakfast tea. I like it strong.”
Ceri smiled and went to the counter to order. When he returned, they talked more about
Doctor Who
and Mick found he and Ceri agreed about so much. Mick enjoyed debating the last series, happy to talk with someone in person about his obsession.
“Have you ever been to a convention?” Ceri asked. “I’d love to go to Cardiff one weekend and have a look around at some of the locations. I assume you watched
Torchwood
as well if you’re a Jack fan, and there’s the Ianto memorial…” He stopped talking, as though not sure what to say next.
“What?” Mick asked unsure of the expression in Ceri’s face.
“Why don’t we go? Why don’t we go to Cardiff? We could stay at a cheap B&B overnight, or at one of those lodge places and have a look around. Being on a bike makes it easier but they have bus tours. If we stayed two nights, we could go to Cardiff Bay and the Doctor Who Exhibition. What d’you think?”
Mick gripped the edge of the table. He could feel anxiety bubbling up in him. His eyes darted from side to side. He hadn’t been outside of Cheltenham for years, not since Alfie. He hadn’t done anything since Alfie. He struggled to control his rising panic, and just about kept his breathing under control. Could he do this? Very little else would tempt him, but going to Cardiff Bay and all the other places he’d only seen on the screen, that was so… He felt a hand touch his arm.
“Mick, are you all right? You started to breathe funny.”
“I’m fine. Sorry, I get anxiety attacks.” No one was more surprised than him to hear those words come from his mouth.
“Don’t worry, it was just a suggestion,” Ceri said. “We don’t have to go, but I would like to get to know you more.”
“Why?” Mick asked. “Why me? I’m nothing special. I’m not even good looking like you.”
“You think I’m good looking?” Ceri asked. “Most people think I’m a little outlandish. Haven’t you noticed people staring at us? My black leathers and orange hair get strange looks.”
Mick straightened in his chair and glanced around the room. The truth was, he hadn’t noticed. He’d been so absorbed talking to the other man, he hadn’t been aware of anyone else. For him there had been no one but the man in front of him. Could he really do this? Maybe it was time to find out, and he really did want to go to Cardiff.
“Okay,” he said, trying not to think about what he was agreeing to. “I have to work Friday morning, but give me a few hours sleep and pick me up at eleven. I’ll give you my address, and you can meet me there. I’ll do some research online and book us in somewhere. One of those lodges would be better, they’re a bit less conspicuous. There’ll be more than one in Cardiff.” He breathed, having got the words out. Now he’d said it out loud, he would have to do it. He couldn’t go back on his word. He was rewarded with a smile that melted his heart. He yawned. “I’d better get going. I need some sleep. I’ll see you Thursday morning, won’t I? I’ll sort everything tonight. Can you give me a lift home, and then you’ll know where to pick me up on Friday?”
“Sure.” Ceri could hardly contain his excitement. He followed the directions and was surprised to find they ended up at a stylish block of flats on the outskirts of the town centre. His passenger obviously had more background information to share.
“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?”Mick said, taking off his helmet.
Ceri got off the bike and stowed it in the box under the seat. “I hope so. Don’t go changing your mind on me.”
“You didn’t answer my question about why me,” Mick reminded him.
“You interest me, and we sci-fi fans have to stick together, don’t we? Also, I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” He leant down and kissed Mick. His surprisingly soft beard tickled Ceri’s chin. Mick’s lips were soft and yielding. They stayed together for longer than Ceri expected, their bodies pressed together. Mick pulled away first.
“Was that all right?” Ceri asked. He was rewarded with a shy smile.