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Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 01

By: zolia_lily



** A note to readers:

This is a fairly long story broken up into chapters, so there is no immediate sex. If that's what you're after then you're better off looking somewhere else.

A word of warning- I am Australian and this piece is set in Australia, so forgive any differences in spelling, word choice or vernacular, or anything else that might seem irregular or slightly unusual. It probably comes down to that. ** 

CHAPTER 1:

January 2009

Keith:

So there I was, lying on the grass, staring at the sky through the fresh green leaves of the canopy of the massive tree above me. The sky was beautiful and blue and the sun was warm, the grass was soft and lush. All in all, it was one of those late summer days that actually glows.

I'd like to say that I was lying there enjoying it all, but I wasn't. I was seriously considering the possibility that I may have broken my back. I clutched the chunk of wood that had come away in my hand and watched a bird chirruping indignantly in the branches above me.

I'd just decided to lie there for a while and feel sorry for myself when running footsteps startled me. Someone suddenly leaned over me, a silhouette against the sky.

"Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." I answered dumbly. "Just... enjoying the sun." My eyes adjusted and I saw the stranger's face, haloed golden by the sun. Twinkling light hazel eyes, a perfect smile. I felt a tug at my groin and swallowed hard.

The man grabbed my hand and pulled me to stand up. I groaned. I was going to be very bruised.

I stared at the chunk of wood in my other hand and wondered if I shouldn't put it down. The golden stranger broke into another easy smile. A few inches taller than me. Broad. Muscular. Powerful. Who was he and could I have him, please? Never mind that I was heartbroken and on the rebound; he was so utterly lickable.

"Nice try." He said. His voice was deep and smooth. "I saw you fall." I blushed then and my dick went back to sleep. Embarrassment was a killer.

"Oh. Right." I said. I couldn't imagine how this must have looked. A new neighbour, moving van barely gone from his driveway, examining his front yard and noticing the beautiful old tree house... and deciding to climb up to it. And said neighbour, a fully grown man, taking a fall from a good five metres or so when one of the chunks of wood nailed to the trunk as a kind of ladder gave entirely and came away in his hand. "I don't normally, you know, climb trees," I said with a wince. That sounded pretty dumb, too. Grae would have been appalled. It was bad enough that sometimes I had to go and do childish things- worse, for him, was when I got caught out.

"You alright?" he asked, eyes sweeping over me. Obviously my embarrassment didn't stretch as far as I'd thought. My dick was getting interested again.

"I think so." I answered slowly.

"You seem a bit dazed. Hit your head?"

"Uh, no. Just landed on my back. I'll be bruised. I'm probably just in shock." I murmured and he laughed softly, eyes twinkling. Oh my god. Sexy and concerned and a laugh like that? Never mind that I was coming off as slow; I was just really taken aback by the strength of the longing I felt for him. I wasn't prepared to feel this for anyone just yet. I wasn't sleeping yet. I wasn't even eating properly yet. I had only just made it back from heart-shatteringly wretchedly disfunctionally damaged to merely devastatingly heartbroken.

Why did I have to meet him now?

"Let me help you inside." He offered. "Otherwise I'll just worry about you." I groaned as we walked. My body did not like this. My ribs ached. Muscles I didn't even know I had were sore.

Inside the place was still a mess. The few pieces of furniture I'd taken from our apartment had been haphazardly stowed in the hallway, and boxes had been dumped randomly. Obviously I hadn't made a good selection of moving company. Then again, I guess they didn't really care too much where they put my stuff when there were only three pieces of furniture in total.

"Got a tub?" he asked.

"Huh?" I said blankly, my body heating up at the thought of sitting between his legs in the bath, bubbles moving in little waves around us, his cock hard against my back while his hands... Fuck! What was wrong with me? Yes, he was gorgeous and caring and kind, but I did not get this worked up about total strangers, even if they were the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my whole entire - I groaned inwardly. There I went again. Rebounds were not healthy, I tried to convince myself. Christ, I couldn't even sleep through the night yet and here I was thinking about getting this guy into my bed! I had to stop.

"A hot bath'll do you good before you stiffen up." Oh, I'd be stiffening up alright. That was a given. Just probably not quite how he meant.

"Right." I said vaguely. He looked at me with more concern again.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Keith Draper." I answered.

"Nice to meet you, Keith. I'm John." I smiled at him goofily. Wow. That felt weird. When was the last time I'd smiled? "When's your birthday?" he asked.

"10 September 1982."

"Do you know where you are?"

"What? Why?" I was alarmed by that question. "Don't you live near here? Why are you asking?"

He gave a rueful chuckle. "I dunno. Isn't that what they do on tv if someone's hit their head? Ask them questions?"

"I guess. Does that work?" I wondered. If I had hit my head that might explain some of these feelings, at least.

"I dunno." He said with another slow laugh. "How about I check your head for a bump, anyway? That was a pretty decent fall." I shuddered and nodded. I would have done anything for his fingers against my skin at that moment. He stood in front of me and gently pulled my hair free from its tie so it curled around my shoulders. He ran his fingers through my hair, over my scalp, gently and thoroughly. Shivers ran down the backs of my legs and down my spine. Good lord, I was hard. He was going to notice how badly I was tenting any minute now. Think bad thoughts, I told myself. He's straight. He's married, divorced, got a bunch of ugly kids, he's a player. He's a rapist. A serial killer. Gets off on chewing on toes, or torturing kittens or something. Anything!

Nothing took the edge off in the slightest.

"No. You seem good to me." John said with a shrug. I looked up the scant few centimetres into his eyes, wanted to lean forward and kiss him. I blinked and moved away quickly, before I could give into temptation.

"Want a drink?" I asked as I moved to the box sitting on the cupboard. "I've got coffee and sugar, but no milk." Being at the bench would give me a precious few minutes to get myself under control. I hoped.

"Sure, no worries. I take it black, anyway. Thanks." I made the coffee, pressed the backs of my fingers briefly against the kettle. The jolt of pain helped lessen my arousal. A fraction.

I didn't have a table and I didn't have any chairs, so we leant against the bench tops and tried to look like we were comfortable.

"So. You're new in town?" John asked.

"Yeah. I had enough money for a deposit on a house, and decided I didn't want to live in the city anymore." It was mostly true. It was more of a lie of omission than an outright lie. "What about you? Local?"

"Yeah, born and bred." He grinned. "My sister lives across the road. I was visiting her when I saw you fall. I've got a place on the other side of town. So why here? Mostly people move to the city, not away from it."

"Had enough." I said with a shrug. "I recently quit my job. And I saw this house and it was perfect."

"So that's what you were doing out front? Just checking out the real estate? Making sure the tree house wasn't even nicer?" We both laughed. "So what do you do?" he asked.

"Oh. I'm a writer."

"What, like books?"

"Not published, no." I blushed. One day. When I actually finished something worth reading. Nothing like an innocent question to draw attention to your failings, though. "I've been working as a journalist since I got out of Uni. At a big newspaper for the last few years. It was challenging sometimes, but it was a good job."

"You quit, though?" he checked.

I nodded and drew a breath. "My ex worked there too."

"Oh. Mixing romance and business." He said with a half smile.

"Mm." We'd tried to keep it pretty separate, and we hadn't made an issue out of it. Most of our colleagues hadn't known. Anyway, it had been a bad idea to start with. Although once we had had mind-blowing sex on the boardroom style meeting table in the conference room...

"Fresh breakup?" He asked gently. Had I been staring into space? Damn. He was going to think I was a real idiot if I kept this up.

"Yeah. And he's already dating someone else and I'm-" I stopped and realised with a thrill that I'd said it. I'd told him I was gay. Not that I wasn't out. I was. It was just that I wasn't sure how John was going to react to that.

I met John's gaze carefully. He didn't look disgusted or upset. He just scratched his chin and looked at me as if reconsidering me. Well never mind. As if someone like him would ever have been interested in me, anyway.

"Feeling better?" John finally asked. "I'd better go." I sighed quietly. Yep. That was it.

"Yeah. Of course." I agreed and rose to see him out.

"See you round, Keith." He said and held out a hand. Civil of him, I thought.

"Yeah." I answered and took his hand. It was warm and rough. We shook, but he held onto my hand for a moment too long. I blinked and met his gaze again. Something there... but what? Interest? Desire? He gave me a final slow smile, then headed down the steps from the veranda. He was halfway to the street when he turned around. I only realised I'd been staring at his arse when he turned, since then I found myself looking at his package. My gaze jerked back to his face. Damn. He had to have noticed that.

"You go have that bath!" he called, grinning, then kept striding, out into the street and across the road.

I went back inside and ran a bath immediately. I was rock hard. I slid into the water and pulled at my nipples, slid my hands down my body and into the hot water. I began to jack myself gently, rubbing my other thumb in circles around the head of my cock. I closed my eyes, pretended it was a warm wet tongue lapping at me, tasting my pre cum. A hot eager mouth taking me up to the hilt, someone else's hands massaging my balls. Someone else's fingers sliding into my crack and running gentle circles around my puckered flesh as they sucked me faster and harder. Someone else's finger pushing inside me as I came hard and fast. John's image and Grae's flashed before my eyes and I groaned and lay back in the water. What the fuck was I doing?

John:

I left Keith's house feeling totally exhilarated. It was a combination of things, I guess. Like him being ok after that fall. Like him being so cute. And being able to run my fingers through his beautiful shiny chocolate hair. And openly gay. I'd started to get hard so quick I'd had to leave. And that handshake... that and the thought of his soft pink lips closing on me, wrapped around my cock, him looking up at me, blue-green eyes coy through his lashes, and I'd had to scramble. I hadn't felt this horny since I was a teenager. I went back to my sister's and had to visit the bathroom. I judiciously applied a little cold water to ensure Little John's behaviour. Then I went back outside to the barbecue.

"Where'd you go?" my sister asked. "You can't leave your own birthday barbecue without telling anyone!"

"Special circumstances." I grinned. "Your new neighbour fell out of a tree."

After the barbecue I went home and washed up, cleaned my house a little and watched some tv.

Still fucking horny.

I went to my room and flicked through an old mag until I found someone who looked a little like Keith. He had hair the same shade, although Keith's ponytail had a little bit more of a curl to the ends of it, would probably curl even more if it was wet. The guy in the pic was a similar build, too. Nicely defined muscles but still lean, narrow hips. Even better, he was giving the camera his best sexy pouty look, while a more muscular guy fucked him. I looked at the pic and began to stroke. God, I needed this so bad. I hadn't gone on the pull for months, maybe a year now. I'd been bored of it, tired of picking up guys for nothing more than average sex.

And then Keith had shown up, with his soft lips and nice hands and gorgeous ponytail and that look in his eye. Dazed, I'm sure, but it made me want to fuck him until he looked like that again, until he couldn't tell me what day of the week it was, let alone his own name. I wanted to fuck him until he screamed and screamed and came with a huge rush of sweet, creamy cum, hot against my hand. Just the thought was enough to make my balls pull up and tighten. I jacked faster and tripped over the edge, coming with a moan and feeling like thunder had torn through me. I was so sated I was weak; I could hardly rouse myself to wipe up before I went to bed.

Keith:

I slept better than I had since Graeme dumped me, but all the same I still woke up early. My back was sore, but not as stiff as I might have thought, given I'd fallen out of a tree the day before and was sleeping on a camping mattress. I got up and put some clothes on and tied my hair back and wondered what to do about my growling stomach. I'd been planning on going shopping yesterday afternoon, but falling out of the tree had put paid to that idea. So far I had coffee and half a cold takeaway pizza. Unrefrigerated. I needed to go shopping, but I didn't want to leave the house. Not yet.

And why bother shopping, I asked myself, when I didn't even have a fridge yet?

I was feeling more sad and sorry for myself than I had for a few days and while I decided to stay at home, I also made the decision not to mope in bed all day but to actually achieve something.

There was no point in moping. I refused to mope.

I got started trying to put boxes in the right rooms, and cleaning. My house was full of empty rooms. The house was far bigger than our apartment had been, and while I'd considered taking all our furniture and leaving Graeme to try and explain to his new little friend why he didn't have any, I'd been unable to touch any of it. I hadn't wanted any of it, in the end. As I unpacked I was glad. None of our furniture would suit my house. He'd liked modern, clean lines. The flimsy modern bookshelves, the glass topped coffee table, those ugly metal lamps- none of them would fit here. I'd only taken three things in the end- my old bookshelves, my desk and a comfy chair that had been in the family. It was old and ugly and Graeme had insisted it stay in the guest room covered with a throw. I had not been going to leave that behind. All the same, I was basically going to have to start from scratch with my house.

At least it would give me something to do.

I cleaned the kitchen cupboards and began to unpack the basic kitchen things I'd bought on the way down, accumulating piles of scrunched up newspaper on the way.

The doorbell rang at lunchtime. My stomach had been growling louder all day and it was getting to the point where I was having trouble ignoring it. I went to the door and found a woman standing there. I wasn't feeling all that friendly towards women but she did look nice.

"Hi, you must be Keith." She said warmly. "John described you."

Ah. "So you're his sister? Sorry, I didn't catch your name." She was smaller and slimmer than John, but shared some of his golden colouring. Her eyes were blue, where his were brown.

"Sarah." She shook my hand with a smile. "Welcome to town!"

"Thanks. You're only about the second person I've met, but so far everyone seems nice," I quipped with a smile. What was this, a record? Two smiles in two days... She laughed.

"Can I come in? I brought you some goodies." She hefted the tea towel covered basket on her arm and I caught a waft of something delicious. My mouth watered.

"Sure. Thanks." I lead her down the hall to the kitchen. "Sorry about the mess." I said. She smiled.

"I have three kids under the age of 6. I could tell you a thing or two about mess."

"Coffee?" I offered. "I don't have any milk, though."

"Oh, just a glass of water would be lovely. It's nice just to get out of the house for a few minutes, I can tell you." I poured water into a mug, since I didn't have any glasses yet and she started unpacking her basket onto the bench. "Now, I've brought you my famous tomato and bean casserole. It's got potato and cheese on top and no meat, just in case you're vegetarian." I assured her I wasn't, which seemed to please her. "And blueberry muffins." My mouth immediately watered and I guess she saw my look because she immediately handed me one.

"So what brings you from the city?" she asked.

"Oh. Change of scene." I answered briefly.

"Anyone coming to join you? Wife, kids? Girlfriend?" I blinked. That was a bit invasive, wasn't it?

"No."I answered, despite how surprised I was to be interrogated like this. Obviously John hadn't told her, but it wasn't a secret and I didn't want to lie about it. "My boyfriend and I recently broke up." Well. That was technically a lie, I guess, but can you blame me for wanting to hide how he'd left me?

"Oh." She said and I waited for her to quickly grab her basket and hurry home like John. Before that handshake had confused the hell out of me.

I was half surprised when she put her hand on my arm. "Are you alright?" she asked. I nodded. The real answer was no. No, I was not, but that, at least, no one needed to know. "Well, this is a friendly town, beautiful surrounds. It's a good place for a fresh start." I nodded again. "How about a sister?" she asked. I stared at her. "I'm sorry, I know how I sound. It's just that this town loses young people faster than it gains them. And it's a big house so I guess I hoped it might be a family moving in here. And I'm still trying to get John married."

"I've got a sister." I answered with a smile, inwardly wondering about John. Maybe he was straight... or worse, bi. I was never ever ever ever going to trust a bi guy ever again. Best not to think about it. "She's studying medicine."

"Oh- a doctor! We always need doctors! Make sure she comes to visit." I could see her plan. Get my sister to town, throw her at gorgeous John and charm her so she'd never want to leave, get them married and producing kids and it'd be 10 points for Sarah. I wondered if she and the other women kept score. Too bad this town had never seen anything like my kid sister. They wouldn't know what hit them.

"Have another one." She said suddenly and I realised my first muffin was already entirely gone. I didn't remember eating it.

"Thanks." I said sheepishly. She frowned at me.

"Have you been eating properly?" she asked.

"No." I answered with a weak smile. I couldn't eat much. I hated going to the effort of cooking for myself. It felt so lonely. And if I cooked, I'd end up with a fifty-fifty chance of being totally unable to eat anything anyway. I'd sit at the table and feel so sick I'd have to throw the food away. All I was thinking about was Graeme -- my Graeme -- telling me he'd been cheating on me. That he was leaving me.

"Oh, honey." Sarah said and hugged me. I hadn't expected that but it sure felt good. I'd had precious little physical contact in weeks and I really needed it. I missed it. I hugged her close and fought the instinctive tightening of my throat. "When was the breakup?" she asked me gently.

"About two weeks ago." She gasped.

"But the house-"

"I hopped in my car and drove and ended up here. Saw the house. Went to the real estate office and bought it on the spot."


Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 01



"A quick clean break." She said bracingly. She hadn't seen me after that. When I'd had to go back to our apartment. Pack my things. There were whole days where I didn't remember a thing. The only reason I'd sobered up was because I'd run out of alcohol. And I'd had to finish packing up before the moving company arrived to cart my stuff away. I'd arranged for a moving company when I was still thinking about stealing all our furniture. They'd been a little weird when I'd told them it was just the boxes. One of them had been nice enough to make me rethink. That was how I ended up with my three pieces of furniture. "It'll get better." She told me warmly. "A cutie like you won't stay single for long, I'm sure." I tried to smile at her attempt to make me feel better, but I was not looking for a boyfriend. I didn't want to be single, but I didn't want a new relationship either. I just wanted Graeme.

I wanted Grae to have taken that time off for me, not for some woman he'd cheated on me with and left me for. I wanted him to come home and nag me to stop singing while I cooked since he was trying to work. I wanted him to schedule time in his Blackberry for us to be romantic, and buy me books to read in the vain hope I'd give him some peace. I wanted him to go out and play golf on Sundays while I went and did yoga and for both of us to tease each other because we couldn't stand the other sport.

What I wanted was my old life back. Even if it hadn't been perfect, I'd been happy. I thought we'd been happy.

I put the kettle on and ate another muffin. Now my stomach wasn't about to eat itself or rebel, they tasted really good. Sarah changed the topic.

She wasn't much like John, really. John had that whole strong and quiet thing going on. Sarah was friendlier than anyone I'd ever met, without being superficial. She would have been invasive if she weren't so damn nice.

Before she left she invited me to a barbecue at her house in a few days time. She said they were making the most of the weather while summer lasted, and that I should come and meet some people. I agreed, even though I wasn't entirely convinced it'd be a good idea.

I didn't want her to leave. Once she left I'd be alone again.

After she'd gone I finally got up the courage to go shopping. I think part of it was me needing to get out of the house. It was big, she was right. And I was there on my own.

I did a huge shop, got cleaning supplies and groceries and a couple of big bottles of rum. Just in case, I told myself. I didn't ask in case of what.

Back at the house I couldn't be bothered thinking about buying cooking equipment and making anything, so I ate the old pizza, which was possibly a health hazard by now, and considered the rum.

I pushed it away, despite its potential antibacterial properties, and wondered what Graeme was doing now. I wanted so bad to hear his voice despite everything. I couldn't. I didn't know his number off by heart and at some point in my drunkenness I had smashed my old phone. Probably, I thought, so I couldn't call him. It hadn't been a really smart idea, since the SIM card was still in one piece and I would still have his number- once I got around to buying a new handset.

It was another reminder though that my mum and sister would have no idea where I was. I needed to call them and let them know where I was and that I was ok. And that Graeme and I would not be getting married. I'd been putting it off long enough.

I went into town the next day and did another shop. Appliances and crockery and things this time. An esky and some ice for until I got a full sized fridge. They were just cheapies from the supermarket, but I figured I'd get around to replacing them with something I liked better eventually.

Then I tried to find a pay phone. In the end I found one right outside the cop station and called mum.

"Keith Draper!" she said when she heard my voice. "Where are you? No one's been answering at your place and you're not answering your mobile and we didn't know what to think!"

"Mum," I drew a breath to tell her everything, but the sudden tightness in my throat made it impossible.

"Keith?" she asked again, sounding far less outraged and far more worried. "Keith, what's wrong?"

"Mum. Grae and I broke up."

"Oh, honey." She said heavily. I closed my eyes. "I didn't think - Have you packed? Do you need me to come and pick you up? Where are you going to go?"

"I've already moved out." My voice was shaking. "I- I bought a house, mum."

"You what?" she said. "Where? Keith, what if you want to patch things up again? A house is a big deal. You should think about this some more, honey. You're not in the right state to-"

"We're not going to patch things up." I had to tell her. There was no chance. Even if he left me and then gave it a few months, would I take him back if he wanted me to? I didn't think I could. No matter how much it hurt that he'd left me, and in such a way, I didn't think I could ever forgive this.

"What did he do?" She asked suddenly, voice hard.

"Mum, no." I denied, trying to wipe my tears away. This would have been better if I had a phone at home. Then I could have screamed and cried as much as I liked.

"Where are you? I'll come over. Right now."

I told her the name of the town and there was a long silence.

"You moved out of the city?" she asked finally.

"Yeah."

"So... you quit your job?" Hm. How to tell her I hadn't been working for the last six months? She'd only ask why, and I'd have to tell her Grae suggested I take the time to write my book. And now I felt like the world's biggest idiot.

"Yeah. But I can still do some freelance work."

"Keith. What are you doing?" she asked finally. I knew what she was really asking. She was wondering what I was doing with my life, with myself.

I didn't know, and I was past the point of caring. I just wanted not to hurt anymore. "Mum, I'm fine." I asserted. "I'm going to go and buy some furniture and get settled in. It's fine. I'm ok."

"Do you need me to get anything from Graeme's?" she asked.

"No. No. He, uh.... He's gone away, so I got everything."

"Gone away? Keith, what happened?"

"Mum, I really really don't want to talk about it." I rested my head against the glass of the phone box. Wished I hadn't had to even resort to that line.

I told her about the house and the town, I tried to sound busy but I don't think she was fooled. She wanted to come and visit but I managed to put her off when I said that I didn't have any beds or even mattresses yet, and I promised to come and visit soon.

I hung up after promising to let them know when I had a phone.

I felt drained and exhausted, but I didn't want to go home and sleep. I went shopping again instead.

________

The morning of the barbecue I started cooking. I made a mountain of tiny bite-sized chocolate cupcakes iced with chocolate frosting. It didn't take me too long. The hardest part was finding my recipes in the boxes. I packed the cakes into a couple of my new Tupperware tubs, and then went upstairs to decide what to wear. It was a nice day and Sarah had said we'd be in the backyard, so I put on some shorts and a t shirt. The t shirt was slim cut and forest green. I liked the colour and I thought the cut showed off my shape. The shorts I selected were dark brown, so finely pinstriped you couldn't tell unless you were within a few inches of them, and showed off my butt nicely. I didn't think anyone would be getting close enough to see the stripes, although I did think of John.

I wasn't sure if it was an appropriate choice. I was still more than a little cut up about my partner leaving me, and here I was dressing to show myself off. But I was in a new town and I wanted to look good and I wanted to feel good about myself as well. And in the end I didn't think that was frowned upon.

John answered Sarah's door. He looked me over and I immediately felt a pull to him. He was truly mouth watering. He looked strong, calm. Safe.

I helped Sarah out in the kitchen and it was really comfortable. She was really easy to get along with, and I didn't feel guilty or secretive about anything since she already knew I was gay and recently single. The other women began to arrive, friends and family both. They were all really friendly. I don't know if they wondered why I was in the kitchen with them and not with the men outside, but it wasn't an issue. I didn't really expect John to cart me out there to bond with his buddies over a beer.

It was at dessert when I brought out the cupcakes I'd made that someone said something. I'd forgotten her name. She rolled her eyes when she ate the cupcake, which I felt was a little melodramatic, but then she put her hand on my arm and told me her daughter would snap me up once she found out I could cook as well as being so cute.

I noticed Sarah freeze on the other side of the group. "That's nice of you." I said carefully. "But I'm actually gay." That killed the conversation for a moment. It usually did. Even if people had nothing against gays it was generally a moment where no one knew quite what to say.

"I don't suppose," another older lady said to me with a smile, "you'd give me the recipe for those cupcakes, would you?"

"Oh. I- sure." I said with a shrug.

"Do you cook much?" another asked. I shrugged.

"I guess so." I hadn't been recently, but normally I did. It was something I enjoyed, and Graeme had said I'd been good at.

"I think you should come along to our cooking group. It's a bit CWA," she admitted with a smile, which I took to mean full of older ladies and cakes, "but we don't bite and we're always looking for new members with new recipes and ideas." I wasn't sure I should accept, but it might be nice to have some friends who didn't expect me to go out clubbing, who weren't interested in talking about sex, hooking me up for a night of fun to forget Graeme, and who weren't looking at me as a potential mate for their daughters. Who was I kidding? I wouldn't knock back any chance at making new friends.

"Yeah." I agreed. It might even be fun. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"Good. Well, give me your phone number and I'll let you know when we're meeting next."

It was then that one of the kids kicked a soccer ball off the side of his foot, right at the crowd of people. I stepped forward and headed it back to the kid. I didn't really mean to hit him, but he was perfectly placed to kick it straight out of the air and just didn't move. At least it didn't hit him hard.

Sarah and her husband Greg thought that was funny, but I felt bad when the kids started fighting about it. I took the opportunity of an awkward lull in conversation a bit later to head down and play with them for a bit. I hadn't played soccer for years, but it felt good. And it was just a bit of fun with the kids, so there was no pressure.

It was actually a really good day. I caught John watching me a few times, and while he spoke to me briefly he had a certain knowing look in his eyes. I didn't know quite what to make of it so I didn't mention anything. But I was more and more uncertain about him.

*****

I was singing as I unlocked the door and stepped into the hall with four bags of groceries. ABBA of all things. It had been playing in the supermarket and it was catchy. At least I knew all the words.

I shut the door with my hip and sashayed my way into the kitchen, singing louder as I dumped the bags on the bench top.

It had been a very good day.

"Keith?"

"Grae- you're home!" he appeared in the doorway, neat and immaculate, even dressed casually as he was. I was struck again by the differences between us.

"I've taken leave." He said. He'd been working late a whole lot recently. I'd noticed him becoming quieter and more stressed.

"Good." I said emphatically with a smile. It was. He'd be able to relax, we'd be able to spend some time together. It was still summer- we could go to the beach for a few days. That would be nice. We hadn't been away for months and months now. We could even go and visit our families.

"Keith." He said. "We need to talk." Graeme always liked to talk about everything he did. He liked to explain things, methodically go through the ins and outs of them, justify things. He talked things through. He always had and I imagined he always would.

"Ok." I agreed, followed him into the lounge - dining room. Usually we sat at the table for his discussions. And I say 'his' because often I didn't even have to do much other than listen as he made his points and his counterarguments. I didn't even have to play devil's advocate.

He took the single couch. I took the sofa, pulled my legs up and sat cross legged. He could scorn yoga all he wanted, but I was a whole lot more flexible than he was. And he did secretly appreciate it, I was sure, because I sure liked the difference it made when it came to sex.

There was a bag on the floor beside him. A large overnight bag.

"Is everything ok?" I asked, my stomach suddenly dropping. Was his mum sick again? "Are we going north?" It was as close to asking if she was alright as I could come. He shook his head. He would, of course. He wouldn't want me to worry. Grae was like that. He was very thoughtful. Very considered in all of his actions.

"I've been seeing someone else." I blinked. He'd said- what?

Cold goose bumps broke out over my skin. Odd. The air conditioning wasn't that strong in here was it. And anyway, that couldn't be right. I must've heard that wrong. That was... absurd. Impossible.

I cleared my throat softly and looked at him sitting perfectly still with his hands folded together comfortably. "Sorry. Say that again?" I said blankly.

"I'm seeing someone. I'm in love with someone else." Love. That was the word that did it. My whole world dropped out from underneath my feet even as I wondered at my sudden sense of complete incomprehension. He'd- he'd fallen in love? With someone else? How?

"Grae-" This was not happening. I refused to believe it. A slight ringing in my ears and a sharp pain in my chest told me it was.

"We've been seeing each other for three months." Each word was a destructive force in itself. Combined, they were lethal. Three months? He'd been seeing someone else for three months?

"Stop." I said, shaking my head. I had the most ridiculous urge to put my hands over my ears and sing loudly so I couldn't hear him. As if that would make it untrue. "Don't. Grae, just don't." I didn't quite recognize my voice anymore. I couldn't breathe.

"We're in love. We're going away for the week."

"No. Grae, you can't." The coldness over my skin was seeping into my bones. This was an arrow through the heart. This was a deathblow. "What? I don't ..." the ringing was increasing. My ears hurt. This couldn't be happening.

"I'd like her to move in with me. So if you could move out before we get back, then-"

"Her?" I interrupted, sick at heart. There was the kick in the guts. I couldn't breathe.

"Yes." He looked at me calmly, even with a hint of curiosity in his gaze. He looked sorry for me. But he didn't look like this was even just a little bit difficult for him. Not in the slightest. And my heart felt like it had been torn from my chest, ripped to pieces and shoved back in again.

"Grae. No. You can't mean it. Why? Why would you- we've been together for- for six years. How can you-... you can't leave me." My speech was broken into bite sized pieces by my breathing, harsh gasps for air. I couldn't control it. I was cold all over with pure terror.

"We get back on Sunday. You can mail your key back or leave it in the letterbox."

" Grae. Please." I choked. "Please..."

"I'm sorry." Graeme said quietly. He got up and picked up his bag and looked at his watch. The expensive watch I'd bought him for his birthday. I'd thought it was boring, but he'd so desperately wanted it, and all I'd wanted was to make him happy... "The taxi will be here soon." He said.

"Stop, please." I followed him into the hall. As if not seeing that terrible calm in his eyes freed my voice again. "Why? Why are you leaving me? What did I do? How can you be in love with someone else? Graeme... I..."

"I didn't mean for it to happen." He offered quietly. "But it did."

"So that's it? You're leaving me for someone you've been seeing for three months? When we've been together for six years? Does- does she know?"

"No." He said coolly. "And she won't know."

"Have you fucked her yet?" I demanded. He couldn't do it, could he? He couldn't have. He didn't answer, but colour climbed in his cheeks. "You've fucked her." I gasped. He'd done exactly what my friends had warned me about."You prick. How could you? You waited this long to tell me? You thought that if it didn't work out then you'd just come back here like nothing had ever happened and we'd...?" Grae looked away. All the strength left me. In all likelihood, that was probably exactly what he'd thought. It was so practical, so rational. So very Graeme.

"This is my apartment." He said softly, and he was already so distant, so very unreachable. "Be gone by Sunday."

I stood and stared at him, watched him open the door.

"Graeme." I said on a breath, once more. My voice was thick, choked by tears. He didn't meet my gaze. Didn't look at me. He closed the door behind him.

I wondered vaguely what he'd have done if I hadn't come home yet. If he'd have left without saying a word.

I stared at the closed door, reeling, still gasping for air. This couldn't be happening. I was dreaming this, wasn't I? Except I couldn't have even imagined this to dream it...

I turned and walked slowly back towards the kitchen, distantly aware that I was shaking. I looked at the groceries on the bench. I'd been going to make us dinner. Like I had most nights for the past six years.

Cold sweat broke out across my forehead. I only just made it to the bathroom before my stomach rebelled. I was sick until there was nothing left inside me. I felt hollow, empty.

Graeme was leaving me.

I lowered my clammy face into my hands and finally began to cry.

And I corrected myself.

He'd already gone.



Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 02



**Thanks for all the positive feedback! Comments and constructive criticism always welcome. **

CHAPTER 2:

Keith:

A few days after the barbecue I was in the centre of town, having just finished shopping and was packing my car. It was weird only shopping for food for one. I was still buying and cooking too much and then having to throw things out. I was thinking about getting a dog; then at least the scraps wouldn't be wasted. 

This time I'd also been to the furniture shop and had been delighted that the pieces were actually handcrafted by an elderly gent from eastern Europe somewhere. I'd put in an order for quite a lot of furniture there and picked out a couple of pieces to pick up the next day. They were mismatched but rustic and I liked them. And I hoped they'd go alright with the pieces I'd picked out at the local second hand and antique shops. I was still mostly living out of boxes, so I figured any sort of furniture would be good.

I heard someone behind me and I didn't worry about it, since there were plenty of cars parked around. I was surprised to be addressed by my name. 

"Keith, isn't it?" I turned around and looked up at a burly guy with a jutting chin and heavy brow. He was overweight and balding and did not look friendly in the slightest. His arms were crossed over his beefy chest and his stance was aggressive. I'd seen him at the barbecue, but we hadn't spoken. 

"Yes." I answered, wondering what he was going to say to me. I nervously and surreptitiously, I hoped, wiped my hands on my jeans. 

"Saw you playing with the kids at the barbecue." He said. For Christ's sake, I thought. Someone else who thought being gay automatically made you a kiddy-fiddler and a freak and a pervert. 

I said nothing. I was not going to give him any more ammunition. 

Instead I just gave him a look I hoped was neutral. 

Normally I would've ignored him or said something smart, but he was pretty big and mean looking. I judged it better not to. 

"Play much soccer?" he asked me. 

I blinked. "Used to play a bit." I admitted carefully. "Not for years, though."

He nodded thoughtfully. 

"I'm sorry." I said. "I don't know your name." If he was going to hit me, then I wanted a name to give to the police. If not, then I wanted to know who the hell he was anyway. 

"Gordon Freeman." He said with a curious nod upwards, and held out his hand. I shook it warily. He had hairy knuckles and forearms. I wondered if that was where his hair had receded to. "PE teacher at the local high school."

"Oh. Right." 

"You're good with kids." He said to me. I couldn't explain my jitters any more except by saying that this was definitely not what I'd expected. I felt very much on the back foot here. 

"Thanks." I said. I didn't know. I didn't have much to do with them, apart from seeing cousins every now and again at family occasions.

"Ever considered coaching?" he asked then. 

"What? No." He actually smirked at my surprise. 

"Saw you showing Will a thing or two. We need a coach for the under sixteens and the under twelves and the under nineteens. Interested?" 

"I'm not... qualified..." I managed to say. I had never thought about coaching. I'd barely even thought about playing sport again.

"So?" Gordon asked. 

"I haven't played for years."

"Yeah. And?" I blinked at him. "Under twelves and nineteens practice after school on Wednesdays, under sixteens after school on Thursdays. They play on Saturday mornings. School has a bus we drive them out on."

"Out where?"

"Wherever we're playing. Not many schools play soccer, you know? Not exactly the national sport. Here's my number. Think about it, yeah?"

I blinked at him without much intention of ever calling him. Gordon nodded and walked away. 

I didn't think about it again, until five days later when my doorbell rang and I found five sheepish looking boys on my front step. One or two of them I had a feeling I'd seen at the barbecue, and I guessed they were probably between thirteen and sixteen. 

"Hi." I said blankly. 

"Mr. Freeman said you might show us some stuff." I blinked at the boy in the front, then noticed the peeling ball under his arm. Now this was underhanded. As if a bunch of kids their age would have come and knocked on my door of their own volition. 

I considered saying no and sending them away, but then I thought about Gordon's offer. Maybe this would be a chance to see how I actually did with the kids before I said yes or no. 

"Now?" I asked. They nodded. "Yeah, ok." I agreed. I jammed my feet into some old shoes, grabbed my keys and shut the door behind me. 

The introduced themselves as we walked down the street towards the main town and headed to the oval. They were pretty friendly, two more shy than the rest. At the park two started having a mock sword fight with a couple of long sticks (and making the obligatory accompanying laser noises) while I chatted to the others. 

They laughed when I told them to stop, and they did, which kind of surprised me. I hadn't really expected them to take me seriously. It didn't take long before we'd sorted ourselves out and were playing. It wasn't much, since there were only six of us, but we had fun and I helped them out with a couple of tricks. They wanted to chat as well as play, wanted to know why I'd come to live in a town. I didn't mention my being gay. I wasn't sure how their parents would take that, but one of the shy guys, tall for his age, watched me closely. I had a feeling about him. 

An hour or so later they had to go to be home in time for dinner and to get their homework done. The ringleader of the group, Simon, asked if I was going to be their coach. I told them the truth; that I didn't know yet. 

They waved goodbye, and I stuck my hands in my pockets and decided to go for a walk into town before I headed home. 

There was a noticeboard outside the small municipal library. I quickly found the sheet looking for a soccer coach. It was curled and yellowed and looked like it had been there a good long while. None of the tabs with the details had been ripped off the bottom. Christ, even the flower arranging group had more interest than this.

I grabbed one of the tabs quickly, hoping no one saw me. 

I looked up at a shadow and found John standing behind me. His hair and skin shone golden in the late sunlight. I felt a warmth down my back and neck. I felt a thrill seeing his uniform. 

He was a cop. 

He wasn't looking at me, but at the board. 

Shit. He'd seen me take it. I quickly grabbed tabs off a couple more notices, shoved them in my pocket. 

When I met his gaze again he seemed quietly amused. 

"Settling in alright?" He asked. 

"Yeah." I answered with a nod. I was tense all over, for some reason. Jittery. I was not ready for the way he looked at me. 

I nodded to him, then turned and walked away. Then I looked at the tabs in my hand. A church group. A refugee outreach program. A fortune teller. And the local sewing circle. 

He was going to think I was a total nut job. 

I hoped he wouldn't tell anyone. 

But still. It could have been worse. 

I could have got the flower arranging tab. 

The kids were back on my doorstep three days later, with another group of kids. This time we played later, chatted less. Again, they wanted to know if I was going to coach them. Again, I answered that I didn't know yet.

As I left the oval I noticed a police car parked at the side of the road. And John leaning on the fence. He'd avoided me at the barbecue, and unless I was mistaken he'd sought me out in town, but then hadn't had anything to say. I wasn't sure what to make of him anymore, other than the fact that he was gorgeous and had a body which begged to be examined more closely. 

"Making some friends." He said, but his smile was warm. I smiled back cautiously. 

"Guess so." I answered. 

"So you going to take Gordon up on his offer?"

"You know about that?" he gave his warm, slow laugh and butterflies spread through my stomach. 

"Yeah, I know about that." He said simply. "Give you a lift home?" 

"That's ok. It's only about four blocks." 

"Yeah. And?" I shook my head and hopped in the car. He looked in the mirror and pulled away from the curb. He was looking in the mirror when he spoke. 

"It'd mean a lot to those kids if you took the job."

"I dunno." I said. "I only played, never coached or anything, and that was years ago. I don't know anything about coaching. What if I let them down?"

John chuckled at that. The sound sent another warm thrill through me. I was not supposed to get so agitated from a laugh. "Keith, they haven't won a match in so long it isn't even funny anymore. It's pretty much a no pressure situation." 

Was he serious? I thought about those kids arriving on my doorstep. I did kind of like the idea of it, but I was pretty sure the reality wouldn't be so much fun as I thought. 

"So." He said, as he pulled into my driveway. "Shall I tell Gordon you'll do it, then?"

I wondered then, why the hell not? The whole town knew I was gay and I'd joined the ladies cooking club so I couldn't exactly do much more to make myself look like an eccentric outsider. Except for joining the sewing circle or the flower arranging group, which I didn't plan on doing. And this was a tight knit community. What better way to make friends and fit in than to coach people's kids?

"Yeah, alright." I said, feeling more confident. It could be fun. 

"Great." John said. I met his gaze and found myself unable to breathe again. There it was, that look again. The same look as when we'd shaken hands. I couldn't mistake it now. Gay or not, he was attracted to me. Did he know how gorgeous I thought he was?

I dropped my gaze and unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the doorhandle. 

"Hey," he said, as if wanted me to stay and chat. 

"Thanks for the lift." I said quickly, then shut the door behind me and headed up to the house. 





John: 

The next time I saw Keith after his abrupt exit from my car was only a week later. I hadn't expected to see him, given I was two towns over, but I thought I recognised his car in the car park, and as I drew closer, I recognised there was someone in it. 

A figure was sitting slumped in the front seat, head against the steering wheel. The door was open. 

A cold chill slid down my spine. I knew it was him by his hair, but the way he was sitting made me fear the worst. 

Had he been robbed? Attacked?

As I grew closer his arm moved and he tried the ignition. All his car produced was a weak sputter. Not even a cough. 

Keith made a frustrated whimpering noise against the steering wheel but didn't move. 

"That you, Keith?" He looked up quickly.

"Uh, hi." He said, getting out and hastily rubbing his cheek as if afraid he had a mark there. I had to smile. People didn't usually get nervous around me, and for some reason I kind of liked that he appeared to be. 

"Car trouble?" 

"Yeah." He was a bit pink. "I don't know what's wrong with it. I was just here looking at washing machines and things and now it won't start but I had it serviced not too long ago and it's never done this before and I know zilch about cars... It's got to be karma." He concluded suddenly with a look of dawning comprehension. 

"What, you didn't treat it well enough?" 

He smiled ruefully and shook his head. "I smashed up my partner's car with a golf club." He admitted with a wince. I had to laugh. 

"A wood?" I asked. 

He gave me a funny look. "A golf club." He repeated warily. I laughed again and he went redder. He was cute when he was embarrassed. 

"You don't play."

"You can tell?" he asked sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah. Let me give you a lift home. I'll call Frank to get your car." Keith hesitated before he finally nodded. 

We drove back to town mostly in silence. Keith seemed nervous. Awkward. I pretended not to notice. I was having enough trouble of my own. 

My plan had been to avoid him. But even while I knew that was the smart thing to do, I didn't really want to. 

He made me... curious. That's the only thing I can call it, I guess. This urge to find out more about him, see more of him. To talk to him. 

It wasn't an urge I'd had with anyone before. 

Ever. 

"So." I said as I pulled into Keith's drive way. "What did he do?" Keith just looked at me blankly. "You didn't smash up his car without a reason, did you?"

"Oh. No." He briefly closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "No, I had a good reason." I waited but he didn't say anything else. My curiosity was aroused. I wanted to know more. He changed the subject. "So what do I do about my car?"

"Happy to give me the keys? I'll speak to Frank. He'll sort it." He pulled his house keys off his key ring and gave them to me without hesitation. I didn't think he even knew who Frank was. I decided he must trust me. 

I started to reverse down his driveway and he turned back to the car. 

"You're making a habit of helping me out." He called. I had to smile. 

"Maybe you're making a habit of needing a hand." I shot back and waved, then pulled away and drove off down the street. 

And wondered what I was thinking even contemplating the idea of something existing between us. 

My life was all mapped out. 

I was thirty now. In another couple of years people would stop asking me when I was going to get married and leave me be and I could be whatever the hell I wanted in the privacy of my own home for the rest of my life. I could get old however the hell I liked. 

I loved my job. I liked my life. And I hadn't wanted anything to change. 

The only problem was that now the existence I'd had planned was looking mighty empty. 

But somehow I still couldn't contemplate the idea of changing. 



March 2009:

Keith:

I sat in the café in the main street with the paper and a hot cup of coffee. I'd only had to wait two days for my car back after I'd broken down outside the electrical appliance shop- something had been wrong with the electrics or the battery or something, but I'd been walking around more since. Although I'd needed the car for some things. 

I'd been curtain and rug shopping and I felt like I was finally going back to a home and not a half furnished house, so I decided to celebrate with a coffee and piece of pie. Although in the short time I'd been in town I was finding an awful lot of reasons for pie or cake at Jim's. I sat in the window like I liked to do, watched people moving around out there. I had nothing to write about (or maybe I was just being lazy), so after I while I grabbed a newspaper off the stack intended for the patrons of the café and settled back with my refill of coffee to catch up a bit on the outside world. 

It was the newspaper I had worked for, and I was feeling ok about reading it. It was nice to see what everyone was doing and how things had changed since I'd left the paper (with Graeme's encouragement) over six months ago. Rob had come a long way and Pete and Mary were as steady as ever. It looked like Cashin had come out on top in the brawl amongst the sports editors. I couldn't bring myself to read anything by Graeme. 

I flipped through the paper as I shut it, froze when I saw a small headshot of Graeme I hadn't noticed before inside the front page of the paper. It was a blow up of his staff photo. I didn't want to look, but he was so boyishly handsome and, despite everything, I still missed him. I drank in the picture, hating myself for being so needy but promising myself that this was just a last look. My gaze fell from the picture to the paragraph accompanying it. 

I don't remember leaving the café. I sort of remember driving home, gripping the steering wheel with the newspaper still in my hand. 

I went straight to the kitchen at home, fumbled in the cupboard until I found a still-closed bottle of rum. I unsealed it and drank straight from the bottle. It burned and I wanted to lean over the sink and be sick. I sank to the floor, leaning against the cupboards and tried to breathe evenly. 

How could he have done this? 

How could he do this to me?





John:

I drove down the main street looking for a park. It was lunch break and I was hoping Keith might still be sitting in the window of the coffee shop. I'd seen him when I'd driven past a fair while ago, but he didn't appear to be there now. I knew he'd often be there for a couple of hours or so scribbling in his notebooks, and I hoped he was just paying his bill or choosing a pastry and went in anyway. 

"Hey, John," the proprietor called to me as I looked around. Nope. Definitely no Keith. I didn't like to read too much into the pang of regret that I felt. I'd given up on avoiding him, finding I thought about him too much to keep doing it. Problem was, he never seemed to be around when I went looking for him. The proprietor, Jim, beckoned me over to the counter. 

"Jim. What's wrong?" 

He sighed. "You know the new guy in town, Keith, right?"

"Yeah." I agreed slowly, my heart sinking. 

"Just wondering if you know if he's alright?" 

"What happened?" I demanded shortly, not answering his questions. Let him draw whatever inferences he liked. 

"Oh, it's nothing, really." He said quickly. "Just... he was here earlier. Black coffee and cherry pie and a newspaper. I was wiping down some of the cases and I heard him get up so I came round the counter. But he left, he didn't pay, took the newspaper. But he looked pretty upset. Looked like he might cry." Jim sounded awkward. 

Jesus. Keith was certainly not going out of his way to slot into life here unnoticed. The coaching, fine, but the cooking group? And the tai chi? And the book lending? And his friendship with almost every woman over 50 in town? I half expected him to join that sewing group any day now. 

"I mean," Jim went on. "It's not a problem if he doesn't have the cash. He could tell me and pay later, right? I just thought... he didn't look too good. "

I nodded slowly and pulled a note out of my wallet and put it on the counter. 

"This cover it?" 

"Oh no." he said, shaking his head. "It's nothing. I can't take your money, John."

"It's procedure," I lied, already kicking myself for offering to pay. "Take it. Just give us the receipt. He'll reimburse the office. You're reporting a theft, Jim." Jim went red. 

"Well, it's hardly a big deal. Don't be too hard on him- he's obviously just a bit shaken up about something." 

"That's no excuse." I said as he took the note. He gave me a reproachful look but shut up and rang it through the till. I hoped this wouldn't come back to haunt me. 

I drove to Keith's straight away, hoping he'd just forgotten to pay and walked out. 

No one answered the front door. There was no noise from inside either, no quickly muted tv or music, no footsteps. 

I went around the side of the house to the back yard and climbed up steps to the back veranda. I knocked again, but again there was no response. I peered in the window. 

Was that a shadow on the floor? I banged on the door again and called his name. The shadow moved very slightly. 

"Keith?" I called loudly, and leant against the door. It gave easily. The door was warped, didn't seem to fit into the frame very well. 

I went inside, and just as I feared, found Keith lying on the floor. He was curled into the foetal position with one arm flung out. A mostly empty of bottle of rum was in his hand, but I couldn't tell how much he'd drunk since he seemed to have spilled a lot lying down like that. There was another bottle of rum with only a few fingers or liquid left just within his arm's reach. 

"Hey, there, Keith." I said gently, couching down and touching his face. He jerked back with a gasp and opened his eyes. He looked confused and bleary. "You alright there, buddy?" I asked and he nodded, but his eyes filled with tears. 




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 02



Well, shit. 

I hauled him up off the floor and half carried him into the lounge room where there was actually a couch now. He was pretty much a dead weight and I was glad he wasn't any bigger than he was. I meant to gently deposit him on the couch but my feet got tangled with his and I ended up sort of dropping him so I didn't fall on top of him. He stayed exactly where he fell. I heard him sniffle. I took the rum off him, having to prise his fingers off the neck of the bottle and took it back into the kitchen. 

I called my deputy as I tipped the rest down the sink. "Hey Mac. Gonna be late back from lunch."

"Problem?" he asked. 

"Just a drunk." I said and he laughed. 

"Already? Jeez. Better you than me." He said happily and I rang off. That took care of that, at least. 

Now what to do with Keith? 

I went back into the lounge where he was curled up and was sobbing quietly. I perched on the edge of the couch next to him. He didn't acknowledge me in the slightest so I gingerly rubbed his back like I had vague recollections of my mother doing. 

"Hey now, Keith." I said gently, partly so I didn't feel like I was rubbing his shoulders just because I wanted to. "It's ok. It's gonna be ok." He sat up at that and looked at me with blazing eyes. He smelt very strongly of rum. 

"Nothing's ok!" he slurred angrily and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Graeme." He blurted then. I nearly told him I was John, then realised this might be the beginning of the story. "He's getting married. He's engaged. He's marrying her!" I didn't know who Graeme was or who he was marrying or why it was an issue so I kept quiet and kept rubbing his back. And tried to pull my thought away from what it would be like to run my hands over his bare skin. "Six fucking years an' he-he's engaged and iss ony been six weeks! An' they're getting married in another six weeks on our annivers'ry and I thoughd 'e was goin'ask me. How c'd he do this?" he finally asked and then pulled his knees up and hid his face again. He drew shuddering breaths. "Bastard." He whispered. "Lying fucking prick." I wasn't sure who he was referring to. 

"It's ok." I said quietly, even though it most clearly was not. I didn't know what else I could say. "I'll take care of you." I said gently, and he looked at me then. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot and his cheeks were flushed and tearstained. And those pretty pink lips were slightly parted. 

"Your eyes 're pretty." He said suddenly with a hiccup. Drunker than I'd thought?

"Uh, thanks." I said blankly, found him fixing his fingers behind my neck. 

Well, shit. 

He was gorgeous as fuck but I did not kiss. Never. No matter how many men I'd been with there was never ever any kissing. "Ok." I said warningly. "That's enough, now-" he cut me off, pressing his lips against mine and immediately pushing his tongue into my mouth. A bolt of lust shot straight through me. Little John was immediately awake. I did not kiss, but fuck, he tasted good and I couldn't help myself. His mouth was hot and slick and softer than I'd imagined. He clung to me tightly even though that wasn't really necessary any more. I was kissing him back now, enjoying the warmth of his body against me. It felt really good. Unbelievably good. Keith moaned and reached for my belt. 

Oh Christ. Not on my lunch break. Not while he was drunk as a skunk. 

"Keith, no." I said firmly. 

"I wan' you." He slurred. "You make me hard when I see you and I wanna lick you all over and see'f you taste as good 's you look." That sent heat straight through me. "Wan' you to fuck me." he said, looking up at me with wide dark eyes and kiss swollen lips. "Wan' you to fuck me hard til I cum and cum and you cum inside me..."

Well, fuck. The image almost made me lose all of my control. I had to stay professional. I had to. 

"Come on." I said firmly. "Let's get you up to bed." He seized on the word 'bed' and was immediately up off the couch. I had to catch him because he nearly face-planted back onto the carpet. I helped him up the stairs, aware of the way he tented his pants, trying to ignore the way he grabbed my arse and breathed against my neck and tried to pull my shirt open. Given he was drunk, he didn't do a good job. 

His room was the second door along. He had a nice king sized bed, a beautiful blue-green quilt set that would look really good against his hair and naked skin, I was sure. I let him fall onto the bed and he smiled up at me, held his arms out to me. 

"Ok." I said with some resignation. "Let's get you undressed." I wasn't sure how I was going to go about that since I had a pretty strong feeling he wasn't going to take my staying dressed very kindly. 

He tried to help with the buttons on the shirt, but he was pretty useless in his state. He was more of a hindrance than a help. I pushed his hands away and managed to get him undressed to just his boxers and socks in pretty quick timing. Keith lay there smiling blearily and murmuring things I didn't quite catch, but which I suspected were in the same vein as what he'd said downstairs, especially given the erection tenting his boxers and the way he made random passes at my belt and shirt. And when each item of clothing I removed displayed more of his beautiful, soft, skin, it was probably a good thing I didn't listen too closely to what he was saying. I was already nearly as hard as he appeared to be, just from catching vague words and the images they brought to mind. He reached for his boxers off and I stopped him. The temptation was bad enough as it was. I did not want him naked and hard in bed. 

Well, that was I lie. I did. But not now. Not drunk and upset. Not during my lunchbreak. 

I was trying to get him under the covers while keeping his hands away from my belt when he suddenly went white and then red, covered his mouth and made to hurl himself off the side of the bed. I let him go and he bolted for the en suite bathroom. I was actually surprised he made it through the door without falling over his feet given his state. I followed him in and held a cool, damp handtowel against his forehead while he cried and puked his guts up. 

His skin was clammy and he was shaking. This time when I put him to bed I didn't have any trouble getting him to stay there and shut his eyes. 

I went downstairs and rummaged in his cupboards until I found aspirin and a bucket. I left the aspirin on his bedside table with a glass of water and a box of tissues, left the bucket next to his bed on the floor. 

By the time I left he was snoring gently. He'd probably be comatose until the next day. 

Back at the station I went to my locker for my spare shirt. 

"What happened to you?" Mac laughed. "Got puked on?" he asked. 

"A little." I said because I couldn't really lie. "Mostly just cried on though."

"Weepy drunk?" he asked and I nodded. "Jeez. Makes a nice change from all the angry drunks we got. Who was it?" 

"Keith." I answered. "The new guy from the city living on the north side of the park." Mac went quiet a minute. 

"You know he's a fairy, right?" he asked. My blood boiled. Normally I'd have just laughed, joined in with whatever he said and ignored whatever I felt inside. Today I couldn't ignore it. 

"Yeah. So?" I asked coldly. "You think that means I shouldn't treat him like a human being?" Mac looked taken aback. 

"Naw, it's just-" I slammed my locker shut. "You know. You were..." I didn't want to listen to whatever else he had to say.

"And what?" I interrupted. "You think he's going to tie me to a chair and infect me with his gayness?" I asked in disgust. 

"No, I-" Mac didn't look like he knew what he was going to say next, so I glared at him and headed back to my office. 

His comments about Keith had made me lose the last of my hard on pretty quick. I worked efficiently for the rest of the day, refusing to chat or goof off. 

But I couldn't help thinking about Keith's gorgeous thighs, the beautiful curves of his arse and the graceful line of his spine. I remembered holding his hair back and rubbing his shoulders, wanting to fuck him hard and fast, and bite that spot right there, hear him yell my name as I came inside him and he spurted against the sheets.

I went home early and took a long, cold shower. 

It didn't matter. There I was watching tv and still all I could think about was Keith's blue-green eyes, dark with desire, as he told me he wanted to lick me all over. 

I really really wanted that too. 







Keith:

I woke up at some point with light streaming through the window and burning my eyes. It was a strong reminder to buy some curtains. Soon. I felt like a vampire whose skin was blistering in the sun right before he burst into flames. A zombie being blasted to pieces by some sort of laser beam. Some monster from deep space being melted upon exposure to a random substance that was non-harmful to humans. I felt like pure shit. 

It took me a minute to figure out I was in bed in my underwear. Surely I hadn't had enough presence of mind not only to get up to bed but to also get undressed? I noticed the asprin and water then and something tugged at my memory. I certainly hadn't done that. 

John had been here. 

I groaned and buried my head under a pillow. 

Great. Just great. 

I wondered if I'd said anything. If I'd done anything. Fuck. 

I'd probably told him about Graeme. My chest tightened and I wanted to cry again. How could he do this to me?

I'd known he was gone and he wasn't coming back, and I'd known he'd left me for a woman... I wasn't entirely sure why this hurt so much more. 

I lay there feeling sorry for myself for a while, wallowing in self pity and keeping my eyes shut, enjoying the darkness and the silence that came from holding the pillow over my head. 

When I roused myself I took two asprin with the water and got out of bed. I looked at the time and saw it was about noon. I'd probably slept for nearly 24 hours. I tripped over something on the floor. A bucket. It had a crack in it now, but a bucket meant I'd been sick. 

I groaned at the thought of having to clean up my bathroom. All I wanted was hot coffee and sleep. 

I shuffled into the en suite and found it clean. I nearly went to check the other rooms of the house to find out where I'd been sick, but I checked the laundry hamper and found a towel and a couple of cloths there. 

Fuck. I hoped that didn't mean John had been here when I'd been sick. I hoped he hadn't been the one to clean up after me, but I couldn't think of anyone else who might have done it. 

I carefully made my way downstairs so I didn't trip over anything else, kept my eyes half closed. 

The kitchen stank of rum. What had I done- painted the place with it? Two empty bottles were standing next to the rubbish bin. Two whole bottles? I couldn't have drunk that much... could I? Well no wonder I felt this bad. I was a lightweight at the best of times. 



I made coffee and sat at the table with it in my boxers and socks. By the time I finished my second cup I was starting to feel a bit better. 

I went upstairs and showered, but rather than get dressed I pulled pyjama pants and a t shirt on. I was not going anywhere. Even getting that dressed was a huge effort. 

I took a big glass of water into the lounge room and turned on the tv. Bad idea. The sound killed my head, and there was nothing on, anyway. I found a channel playing some movie in black and white and turned it to mute, lay down on the couch and waited for the world to end. 

When someone knocked at the door I thought my head would split. 

I slowly got up and shuffled over, opened the door to Sarah. 

"Hey." She said gently. "You alright?" John had told her. I nodded and let her in. 

"Coffee?" I asked. Knowing Sarah, she wouldn't be leaving in a hurry. 

"Let me make them," she said, and I didn't argue. 

"You okay, honey?" She asked when we were sitting on the couch again. The cup scalded my hands but I kept my fingers wrapped around it. 

"I think so." I said softly and then cleared my throat. "John sent you?"

"Yeah." She agreed. "He said you were pretty upset." I nodded once, wished I hadn't. "Said he found you on the floor and put you to bed." Yeah, that'd be right. "You ok, honey?" She repeated. 

I nodded again. Why did I keep nodding when I knew it was going to hurt so much? 

"Was it about the breakup?" She asked softly. 

"Yeah." I agreed quietly. She was watching me avidly. I had the feeling that she wouldn't tell anyone, even if she did talk too much. I felt like maybe I could tell her. It was the first time I felt like I could speak about it at all. I drew a deep breath. "He left me, you know. It wasn't like... it wasn't like I had any idea anything was wrong..."

Sarah nodded slowly, reached out and rested her hand on my shoulder. 

"He told me he'd been cheating on me. 'Seeing someone else'. For three months." Her hand gripped my shoulder tighter. "And he told me he was leaving me. For her. Everyone warned me, you know." I burst out with sudden vitriol. "They all warned me about dating a man who was bi. Bi guys have got a reputation for just screwing around until they find the woman they want to marry, but I never ever thought Grae would... I defended him to everyone, and after a while I didn't even think about it anymore. I just knew he wouldn't. Six years was such a long time. But he did... after six years... and he actually..."

"He's marrying her?" Sarah asked softly, but it was almost a statement. I nodded. Tears were winding their way down my nose now. I hadn't noticed them before. 

"In six weeks. On our anniversary. The announcement was in the paper. And he's been dating her for, what, not even six months? And he left me only six weeks ago. I just... I don't understand. Six years, and it's like it never happened. It's like it didn't mean anything. And... I loved him. He was supposed to love me. I thought- I thought he'd marry me, you know. I waited for him to ask the whole first few years. And then... I just thought maybe he wasn't into that. But apparently he is. Just not with me."

I had thought about us getting married; not in any legal sense, but just with our families and our friends. I'd never asked Graeme to marry me because I didn't think he'd like it if I did, given his hang ups. But I'd found a brochure from a really nice jeweller's in his suitcase. I'd found web pages for hotels in Paris in his browser history on his computer. So I'd assumed he was going to ask me, even if I hadn't really expected it after six years together. Instead he'd left me. For a woman who had no idea I even existed and probably had no clue her new fiancé had been more gay than bi for most of his adult life. 

Sarah scooted closer and put her arm around me. 

"You know that sometimes these things just happen. You can't always explain them." 

"Yeah." I answered, my eyes stinging again. "It's just not fair. He didn't even have the guts to tell me first. He was already fucking her before he even told me- before he even left me. I don't understand how he could be such a prick... Apparently he just didn't care about me. Not at all. How could I not have seen that, though?"

"Oh, Keith." 

I let Sarah put her arms around me and hold me close. I had barely touched anyone since Graeme and it was nice. It felt good. 

By the time we finished talking some more I was still feeling hurt, but it was morphing into something else. Into anger. Hot spiky resentment. 

It was almost actually a relief. I'd been getting tired of feeling broken. 

Sarah stayed for a while. I refused to let her cook me anything, but she made me promise to eat. I had no plans of actually eating anything at all, despite what I'd said. 

Instead I went to bed. 

The next morning I felt human again. I still felt like shit, but at least it was a human kind of shit. 

I showered and washed my hair and shaved and got dressed, drove carefully into town. I was pretty sure my blood alcohol level would be zero by now. If it wasn't, then I didn't think I would have survived. 

I pulled in at the police station and took a moment in my car to gather my courage. 

It was cool and dim inside. The man at the desk quickly took his feet off the desk when I approached. 

"Hi." I said lamely. His nametag read McGuiness. "Is John around?" he nodded and pressed a button on his phone, then looked me up and down. 

"You look like shit." He said. 

"Feel that way." I admitted and he grinned. For some reason he looked like that answer appealed to him. John appeared in a doorway and looked surprised to see me. There was something else in his gaze. 

Uh oh. What had I said to make him look at me like that?

"Keith." He said. I waited for him to ask me to come to his office, but he didn't. He just watched me. He was normally kind of reserved, but he seemed different today. I wondered if I could apologize for something I didn't remember or if that would make things worse. 

"I, uh, just wanted to say thanks. For the other day. And I'm really sorry about being sick." 

"You remember that, huh?" Something flickered in his eyes. Fear? He shot a quick glance at McGuiness. 

"Nope." I said, and he half smiled, relaxed a bit. 

"Why don't you come through?" he asked finally and I followed him through to his office. I didn't miss the way McGuiness watched me suspiciously. Nor did I miss the fact that John left the door open. 

"Remember much?" he asked. 

"No." I admitted. "Not until about lunchtime yesterday when I woke up. Figured I wouldn't have got water and asprin for myself. And cleaned up the bathroom. I sort of had this feeling you were there." Something in his eyes again. Fuck. What had I done? "How come you came to my house?" 

"You walked out of Jim's without paying." He said shortly. 

"Oh." I didn't remember paying, but I didn't remember not paying, either. But was a six or seven dollar debt really worthy of a house call? I looked at him funny and he went to explain. 

"I saw him later on and he said you'd been upset so I came to check on you. Found you lying on your kitchen floor covered in rum. Wouldn't have picked you for a rum drinker."

"I'm not, really." I admitted. "I buy it because it means I'm less likely to drink it." He blinked at me and I sighed. "I probably told you about Graeme." I said and he nodded once. "I bought rum thinking that I wouldn't drink it unless things were bad, since it's not my drink of choice."

John nodded. "Makes a weird kind of sense, I guess."

"Yeah, but it didn't work." 

"I don't know." John said slowly. "You achieved your objective pretty quickly." I must have looked blank. He sighed. "Drinking 'til you passed out." He filled in. I managed a weak smile and he looked at me critically. "You still don't look good." I nodded. 

"Trust me, I know."

"You should get yourself over to Jim's. He does an awesome breakfast fry up any time of day."

"Yeah. Not sure I can go there, now." I admitted. John smiled. 

"He doesn't mind. He was worried, is all. He knows how close you and his wife are." I blushed at that. So I joined the ladies' cooking group? I liked them and I was learning and having fun. And they were really sweet to me. "I'm serious." John said. "Get your arse over there. Jim'll tell me if you don't."

I nodded and sighed. I was starving since I hadn't eaten anything since that piece of cherry pie, so it did sound like a good idea. 

"Sure." I agreed. John showed me out, told me he'd be telling the local shops not to sell me any alcohol. 

McGuiness seemed to think that was funny. I most certainly did not. 

I headed over to Jim's and waited at the counter. He appeared after a minute and gave me a broad smile. 

"Keith- you alright?" He asked. I wished he hadn't. 




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 02



"Yeah. Just some bad news." I said. "I'm really sorry about the other day. How much do I owe you?" Jim looked taken aback. 

"John already took care of that." He said in surprise. "Said you'd reimburse the police station."

"Oh. Right." I said, as if I'd gotten confused. I didn't have to fake much. Why hadn't John mentioned that to me?

"How 'bout a coffee?" Jim offered. 

"Yeah." I agreed. "And John mentioned you do a fry up?" Jim's eyes lit up. 

"Sure do." He said. "Best breakfast around for miles. You take a seat and I'll get your coffee to start with." I thanked him and took the window seat again. This time I didn't take a paper. 

I wanted to speak to John and find out why he had covered my bill and not told me. But I was also afraid of what the answer might be. To say I was feeling fragile was a small understatement. 

I avoided John for the next few weeks. I didn't know quite what to say to him, and I didn't know if he'd look at me so intensely or if he'd shut me out again. I didn't want to have to think about whatever I may have said to him, and I wasn't ready to ask him straight out what he wanted either. And I still needed to come to terms with losing the man I thought I'd be with for the rest of my life. 

Under the circumstances, avoiding John just seemed easiest. 

I didn't have much choice the next time I saw him. 



Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 03



CHAPTER 3:

April 2009:

Keith: 

It was a couple of weeks later that I arrived at the oval to coach the boys slightly later than usual. They'd already started to dribble in. I was about to head over to them and get started setting up when I heard a yell, and turned to find a large, angry man striding up behind me. His fists were clenched. Not a good sign. 

"You, you fucking faggot!" he yelled. I sighed inwardly and stood my ground.

"Can I help you?" I asked coldly. 

"You shut your fucking face, you bloody cock-sucking fairy!" he yelled. I was distantly aware that there were other parents around, that the kids were stopping and staring, that blood was slowly but surely heading for my cheeks. "My own son!" he yelled and I blinked. I had no idea whose father this was, but he obviously didn't like his son associating with 'one of us'. "You keep your fucking queer hands away from him!"

"Are you accusing me of something?" I asked him coolly. I should have realised that this was not the man who backed down. I should have realised that this was a man who saw gayness as a threat to his masculinity, and apparently to his son's as well. 

"Damn right I am, you arse-fucker! You leave my son alone! You hear?" I felt my temper rising. 

"I don't know which boy your son is, but I-" I began firmly. I wanted to yell back, but I was aware that I was supposed to be a role model for these kids and I wasn't going to enter into a fight like this. 

"You been after that many of them, you sick son of a bitch?" he asked me with a gleam in his eye. Ah, shit. "You hear that?" he yelled at the other parents. "You hear what he's doing to your sons?" 

"Now you listen to me," I said loudly, deciding that this was the point at which I should stand up for myself and raising a hand to point at him. He turned back to look at me. He'd used the movement to disguise his real intent. He took a swing at me, I didn't react fast enough so he connected with my eye. I saw stars, swung blindly as I lost my balance, felt my knuckles hit soft flesh and hard bone and something sharp. I stumbled back until I found my footing, blinked and saw (with my good eye) that I'd hit him in the mouth. He spat blood. Oh shit. Not good. He roared, blood leaking from his mouth and launched himself at me. 

It took five other parents to get him off. 

Half an hour later we were at the police station. 

Guess I'm lucky it wasn't the hospital. 

John interviewed me. I told him what happened, trying not to shake. It had upset me more than I realised. I'd been in town for two months, and so far everyone had been really nice. I hadn't had any comments or eggs thrown at my house or any problems I might have expected in a small town at all. I guess I'd thought by now that there wouldn't be any. 

He let me leave his office and I walked down the hall to leave the station. McGuiness had the angry father in cuffs since he was refusing to cooperate, and thoughtfully waited until I was out of the way to take him to John's office. 

The hallway was sort of narrow and I didn't fancy walking right by him there. 

I exited the station and stuck my hands in my pockets. I was pretty sure I had a shiner. My knuckles were cut up. My ribs felt pretty badly bruised and my right shin stung like blazes. But my dignity was the worst hurt. I debated whether to head back and see how training was going, or whether to just go home and hide. 

Then I noticed a skinny figure sitting on the curb. 

"Joel." I said, sat next to him, pretending that didn't hurt as much as it did. He was the tall shy boy I'd had my suspicions about. And surely there wasn't any other reason he was sitting in the gutter outside the police station on his own. It was a pity to have my suspicions proved right like this. He looked pretty shaken up. "Sorry I hit your dad." I offered. He managed a quick grin before he looked away. 

"I came out to him. Today." He blurted. I nodded. That made a whole lot of sense. 

"You alright?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I didn't think he'd go mental, you know? And I did tell him you never- I mean- that you're not-" I cut him off. 

"Yeah. It's ok." He rested his chin back on his knees. 

"I've never met anyone else who was... you know – gay – before. And everyone just accepted you, you know?" he said softly, staring determinedly across the road. 

"Yeah." I agreed. "But I'm not from around here. I'm a strange exotic creature from the city." He smiled sadly and closed his eyes. 

"Is it always like that?" he asked. 

"Sometimes." I said. I had to be honest. "Not everyone is open minded. Doesn't matter what century it is. Mostly though, the people who aren't ok with it just avoid you." 

"Everyone's going to know, now." he said thickly. 

"Yeah." I said gently. "But you know what? That's the hardest part. Once you're out then you don't have to worry about that anymore. You don't have to keep worrying about how your friends and family will react. You get it over and done with and then you can get on with living your life and everyone else can damn well deal with it or not."

"Mum cried."

"Mine hit me with a silver serving spoon on my ear. Two stitches." I said. He looked at me with wide eyes. I laughed. "She's ok with it now." I told him. "She didn't mean to hurt me, she was just shocked. To be fair, I probably shouldn't have come out while she was serving Christmas dinner to the extended family. She was serving peas over my shoulder and I just blurted it out. The spoon was only about fifteen centimetres away, but she panicked because she drew blood and took me off to the hospital. Then she nearly broke my fingers holding my hand. Parents are like that. They love you no matter what. He'll come round. It might take a while, but they'll most likely come round." He nodded but didn't look up. He probably suspected what I already knew- that it might not happen. That there wasn't always a happy ending. "Here." I said, pulling a pen from my jacket and finding an old receipt in my pocket. I scribbled my phone number and my email address on the back. "If you want to talk about anything, then let me know, yeah?" he took the piece of paper and nodded.

"Thanks." 

I offered him a smile, then got up and began to make my way home. 

Like this wouldn't light up the town with gossip. 

I got some frozen veggies out of the freezer when I got home and iced my eye. It gave me a massive headache, so I took a couple of asprin as well. I was lying on my couch watching tv with a bag of peas on my head when my doorbell rang. I got to my feet and shuffled to answer it. 

John stood there, looking slightly awkward. He was wearing dark jeans and a nice shirt, looked like he'd showered and shaved. He was so luscious I forgot to breathe. 

"Hi." I said stupidly. My blood wasn't in my brain at that point. 

"Hey. Want to get some dinner?" He asked. I blinked. What was he asking me, really?

"Oh." Eloquent. Nice. "Uh, I'm not sure I really want to head out." I said, touching my eye. He grinned. 

"Yeah. Only I thought, you know, I could show some solidarity with you. You know." Yeah. I could guess. He wanted to be seen with me out in public so people knew he wouldn't stand for gays being attacked in his town. He wanted me to know he didn't have a problem with it. And maybe this was as good as an excuse as he'd get to ask me to dinner without actually asking me on a date. "Have you tried the Italian restaurant yet?"

"No." I said. "Do you like Indian?" he gave a nod, but his reaction was hesitant. I knew why. The Italian restaurant was family friendly, bright lights and chequered table cloths. The Indian restaurant was dimly lit, had little candle lit booths, soft cushions, deep, vibrant colours. More date material. I stood in the doorframe and looked him over, up and down. 

I wanted to demand to know what he wanted from me. I was not in the mood to play games. And I was tired of avoiding him because I didn't know what to expect. I was still coming to terms with being single and I was not prepared for meaningless sex. If that was what he was after then my answer would be no. 

I opened my mouth to ask him if this was a dinner invitation or something else, something more, but I caught the look in his eye. 

He was nervous. 

If he was gay then I'd never heard a peep about it. And knowing some of the women, Sarah in particular, they'd have been trying to set us up the instant I arrived if they had known. It wouldn't matter to them; so long as they got to play matchmakers. Sarah was his sister, and from what I'd seen they were close. If she didn't know then I was willing to bet that no one did. If he really was gay then he'd obviously been in the closet forever and ever; for his whole damn life. Hell, I didn't even know if he'd ever spoken to an openly gay guy before. There was even the possibility he was still a virgin. 

Oh god. 

That was definitely something I'd never thought about having to deal with. 

"Ok." I agreed finally. I wouldn't ask. Not yet. I almost felt a peculiar kind of relief. Putting off the possibility of rejection, I guess. Call me chicken but I'll swear it was because I didn't want to put him on the spot. "Sure." He smiled and nodded and I wondered what I was doing. "Italian sounds good."

Dinner was actually really nice. We chatted and steered clear of any awkward topics, but still had a lot of fun. We found a lot of things to talk about. I checked him out every opportunity I got. His awesome shoulders and the breadth of his chest, his strong thighs and great arse. The way the denim cupped his package. A few people come up, too, to ask what had happened and express sympathy that I really didn't need. A couple of fathers came up to check I wasn't going to give up on coaching, too. That I really appreciated. 

John noticed. "Not everyone hates gays, you know." He said quietly. Was this an invitation to ask him about himself? Was this a hint? 

"I guess," I said slowly. "I just didn't expect it. Not when I've been here this long, now." He nodded slowly. 

"Davies is an alright bloke, really. Don't know why he attacked you."

"I do." I said, taking a drink. "I coach his son. Joel. He said he came out today."

"Ah." John said carefully. Added nothing else. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. 

"Yeah." I decided to go on. "So he attacked me over it." John nodded slowly, didn't look up.

"Family... family's tricky." He finally agreed. 

Was that it? He wasn't saying much, but I had to wonder. If he was really gay, and by now I was pretty damn sure he was, was he trying to tell me something? His family wouldn't accept him?

I wondered if I could ask Sarah about their family subtly enough that she wouldn't twig. And neither would John. 

It was something to think about. 

John drove me home and when he pulled into my driveway there was a moment where I thought I could have kissed him and he might not have minded. I found myself with a stomach full of butterflies instead. What if I'd read him wrong and he wasn't interested in me? I couldn't face rejection again, not yet. I wasn't ready for this. 

I thanked him and hopped out of the car. 

_________

Sarah invited me to dinner with her family a few days later and I thought I had the perfect opportunity to ask about her family without John noticing... until she opened the door and John was already there with a nephew slung over each shoulder. 

He grinned at me and carried the laughing and squealing kids into the next room. 

"Favourite uncle, I see." I said with a grin. Sarah laughed and nodded. 

"Definitely the favourite uncle." She agreed. "And he's made himself my favourite, too. He's an absolute angel when we need someone to look after them or babysit. He needs some kids of his own, I'm telling you." My ears pricked up. Here was an opportunity if ever there was one. 

"So you have more siblings, then?" I asked. 

"Yeah, two more brothers. They both live out of town." She didn't offer any more information and I felt like her tone was a little short, so I didn't ask any more. 

John sat opposite me at dinner. I wasn't getting signals from him like I thought I had the other night, but I was pretty sure I could attribute that to being in the presence of his sister and her husband. All the same, halfway through the meal I managed to somehow smack my knee against his, and when I reached under the table to rub it, the backs of our hands brushed against each other. 

My gaze flew to his. He was watching me quietly, eyes dark and calm. He looked totally unflustered. So unflustered that I had to wonder if this wasn't entirely unintentional... but his hand lingered... 

After a moment I swallowed hard and pulled my hand away. I had to have a drink before I kept eating. My mouth was suddenly dry. 

We saw each other more frequently after that. At Sarah's, since she was beginning to ask me to family dinners more frequently, but even if we happened to bump into each other in the main street we might have a coffee or a chat. He came to a whole lot of soccer matches and practices too, apparently to give a couple of kids lifts home, but he was always early. And he'd stand there with his arms crossed, leaning back slightly. I was fairly sure he was watching me. 

There was always that tension between us. And it was building steadily. 

And I was getting tired of waiting. 

I was aware, too, that Graeme's wedding was coming up. I hadn't heard from him and I didn't expect to, but it didn't worry me quite so much anymore. It still hurt, but I was coping. It didn't consume my dreams anymore. I didn't think about him half a dozen times an hour and wonder what had gone wrong, wonder if he'd ever loved me at all or if he'd just fallen out of love with me, if this was the first time there'd been someone else I hadn't known about, if he'd considered leaving me before. I could think about him without crying. I was functioning and actually beginning to feel like I was getting my life back on track. I was starting to feel good about things again. 

I had high hopes for the future. 

A couple of weeks later I'd been sitting in the window at Jim's writing something I had high hopes for, when John dropped past and came to say hi. 

A coffee together turned into lunch. He was so easy going and relaxed about everything, so easy to talk to. 

He was just about to head back out when I took a fortifying breath and asked him. 

"Hey." I said. "Do you want to come over for dinner on Friday?" he looked quite taken aback and I found myself keeping on talking to give him an out, to give him a reason, to tell him this didn't have to be more than a meal. "It's just that it's ... it's the wedding day."

John gave me a level look and I prepared myself for him to tell me it wasn't a good idea. "Are you telling me you found someone to sell you more rum?" He asked me dryly instead. 

I laughed. "No. I just don't really want to be alone." He nodded slowly then smiled and nodded. 

"Sure. Can I bring anything?" He asked. 

"No." I shook my head. "I'll spend the day cooking. You know. Keep busy." He nodded and smiled, and looked at me again with concern and warmth. 

I was tempted to lean over the table, grab his shirt and kiss him silly. 

Somehow I managed to restrain myself. 

Friday came and I spent the afternoon cooking. I was totally preoccupied with the thought of having John in my house. Having John come over for dinner. Graeme barely entered my head at all. 

By the time my phone rang I was a bit of a mess. 

"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.

"Hey Keithy- been running?" It was my kid sister, Emma.

"No." I hoped I didn't sound too sullen. "How are you?" I asked to cover the moment. 

"Good. Wanted to see how the writing's coming. I have a friend who just got a job in publishing, and I thought you could show her your manuscript. Last time I spoke to you, you said you thought you were nearly done and-"

"Oh, Em, thanks, but I'm kind of expecting someone. Can I call you back?"

"You can just email, that's ok. Someone special then?"

"Just a friend." I said defensively. "Sort of. Who is freakin' h-o-t, by the way." I added with a grin. Em laughed and I chatted to her for a few moments before the doorbell rang. 

"Well I want to hear all about it, ok?"

"Gotta go. Thanks Em."

I shut my phone and hurried to the door. 

"Hi." I managed to get out in a close to normal voice as I opened it, then forgot to breathe. John smiled at me slowly. He was wearing a close fitting t shirt and jeans, with a belt which had a big cowboy buckle which drew my attention straight to his groin. Did he do that on purpose? 

"You going to let me in?" He asked after a moment. 

"Right. Yeah." I answered blankly, inwardly kicking myself. He was too gorgeous to be real, wasn't he? He grinned at me and I let him in. I felt suddenly self conscious, even thought I was just wearing jeans and a shirt as well. "Get you a drink?" I asked. He looked at me suspiciously and I had to laugh. "No one's been selling me alcohol, I promise. I've got coke, juice, cordial..." 

"A glass of water would be great to start off with." He said. "I'm a bit thirsty." He suddenly looked a little awkward and I smiled and nodded. He was feeling this. He had to be. 

___________

"So," John asked when we were eating dessert. I'd made banoffee pie with bananas and strawberries and extra chocolate and it was pretty damn good, if I did say so myself. John really seemed to appreciate it too. I nearly leapt at him and wrestled him to the ground when he moaned and closed his eyes and tipped his head back like that. "You seem pretty ok about this."

"Huh?" I asked. I hated that. I was a writer, and yet sometimes around him I could barely string a sentence together. I definitely couldn't gather my thoughts. 

"You know. Graeme getting married." 

"Oh. Right." I said, frowning. He was right; I was actually feeling pretty good. I shrugged. "Well. It's been a couple of weeks past three months since he left me. I've sort of had time to get myself together, I guess." John was watching me like he wanted me to continue, so I sighed and put my spork down. "It still hurts." I said. "But my heart's not breaking anymore. I can deal with it, now. I'm more angry than anything, because everything was about him and I had no part in this. So I've tried to let go. And about this time tomorrow," I said with a smirk, "he'll be wondering what the fuck he's got himself into."

"Really?" John asked quietly. "You think he'll change his mind and come back?" 

"In all honesty, I don't think he will." I admitted. "I think maybe I wasn't... what he needed, in the end." John scowled. 

"That's not a reason for cheating."

"Yeah. I know. But I think maybe being with a woman will suit him better."

"How do you mean?" John asked quietly. 

"Well. Same sex relationships aren't simple, just like normal relationships aren't always simple or easy. There are still stereotypes of men and women, and I don't think Graeme ever really... liked the blurring of the boundaries. I don't know. It's hard to explain. I mean, he was in a gay relationship, but he-I think he felt threatened if I was too masculine, you know? He liked that I cooked. He liked that I had long hair and that I was smaller than him. He didn't like me playing too much sport. I got a promotion at work and he didn't like that. He never said, but I could tell." I smiled at John. He seemed to be drinking up what I said. "I passed it on to someone else after a few months. Partly because I thought Grae would be happier again and partly because it was more work than I was prepared for. But then he worked longer hours, so I tended to do things around the house. You know. I didn't mind doing it, but sometimes I didn't like his attitude to it. I feel like he wanted me in what he saw as a woman's role, and he didn't like it if things didn't fit." John was looking at me like that was crazy. "I know." I agreed. It was crazy, especially seeing as we were both men. We weren't exactly ever going to be a traditional couple. "So yeah. I think he'll have married a nice traditional girl and be really happy. And I'm ok. I think seeing the engagement notice was the final straw. I got drunk, but I think... that was sort of the last of what I felt. I could finally really let go. So I think... I've got it out of my system. I'm ok now." 




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 03



John nodded and looked back down at his pie. 

"What about you?" I asked him. His gaze jumped to mine. 

"What about me?" He repeated, his tone neutral, his face a mask. 

I nodded. "Got your own tales of woe?" I asked. He relaxed a little and briefly flashed a grin. 

"Nope." I waited for him to add something, anything, but he didn't. I wanted to keep talking, but I was afraid I'd keep babbling on like an idiot. I forced myself to be quiet and wait until I thought I'd choke on my own tongue. 

"Coffee?" I finally asked. 

We sat at the table with our coffees in what must have been the first lengthy silence of the evening. I was wondering how to make the first move, how to ask him what he wanted or tell him what I wanted, when he suddenly reached out and stroked the back of my hand with his fingertips. 

A shiver went straight through me. I met his eyes. Now they were dark. Wide. Completely open. I turned my hand up and he stroked his fingers back and forth over my palm. Tingles ran from my hand up my arm and spread in ripples through my body. My palm, for Christ's sake! It was not supposed to feel that good. 

"I don't normally do this," he whispered. He sounded unsure. Timid, almost. 

A moment of hesitation. 

I wanted this. I did. I knew I did. So why was I hesitating?

John dipped his gaze and my throat went tight. I couldn't let him back away now. I couldn't sit here and watch him pretend nothing had happened. 

I stood up and stepped around the table. John looked at me with some surprise and apprehension. I hauled his chair out from the table and then swung one leg over his and sat, straddling his thighs. I was rapidly thickening in my jeans. He was too goddamned luscious to resist. His hands floated down to rest lightly on my thighs, thumbs slowly sweeping back and forth. That felt really good. 

He turned his face up to me, and I traced one finger over the bow of his bottom lip. He closed his eyes, passive, still, but his face was turned up to mine, inviting. I stroked his cheekbones and slid my hands behind his head, brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth. I pulled back an inch or two, concentrated on sliding my fingers through his silky hair, caressing the shape of his skull. John turned his chin up slightly, slid his hands down my flanks. I wanted to explore his face more, but I had to kiss him. I'd been wanting to taste him for weeks. His lips were soft and warm. Little thrills of pleasure exploded all over my skin. I kissed him gently to start with - short, light kisses, gradually demanding more from him. He parted his lips and invited me to taste him. I briefly slipped my tongue into his mouth, enjoyed his soft moan against me. I kissed him more firmly, this time found him responding. I tasted and teased and he mimicked me. I didn't think he'd done a lot of kissing, but he was catching on pretty quick. Of course, he had a good teacher. He tasted warm and sweet, of coffee and chocolate. It was heady and addictive. I pushed myself closer to him with my legs and I smiled against him. I had slid up so that our erections were pressed together. John moaned softly again when I undulated my hips gently.

"Keith." He whispered as I pressed light kisses across his cheek towards the corner of his jaw. I hesitated. For all I'd said about not playing games and demanding the truth, I'd certainly been quick to forget everything other than kissing him. 

"John?" I asked quietly, sitting back slightly. He looked at me, flushed, lips curved into a half smile. "John. I need to know. What is this? Is this sex? Is this something more? I don't want to play games." John coloured more. 

"No games." He answered softly, still stroking my thighs. I wondered if he knew how distracting that was. It brought to mind strong, sleek flanks rippling against mine, made me weak with desire. I swallowed hard. "I want... more." He said falteringly. It was hard to believe that strong, steady John was having trouble expressing himself. "But I meant what I said. I've never done this. I've never had... more." I nodded. "And no one knows that- that I-" He added. 

"I know." I agreed gently. "I won't tell." Right about then I would have promised him anything he wanted. Even more. Maybe this was all he needed to get him out of the closet. A reason to come out. 

"I want you." He murmured. He turned his mouth up again and I gave in and kissed him again. I demanded entry, greedily delved my tongue back into his mouth. I could have sat there, rubbing the bulge in my jeans against his and just kissing, forever and ever. His mouth was hot slick velvet, his breath sweet and drugging against my cheeks. 

I pulled back to give us a chance to breathe again, wondering if it was too soon to drag him upstairs to bed, to tear his clothes off him and swallow him whole, but found my train of thought interrupted by his moan. 

"Fuck." He whispered against me, rubbing his nose against my neck. "And I thought you kissed great when you were drunk."

I was suddenly alert. "Wait- what?" I pulled away and he smiled at my panicked expression.

"You kissed me." he admitted, reaching and stroking his hand over my hair. "That day you were drunk." I blinked at him and remembered waking up in bed in my boxers. I'd kissed him. And then he'd undressed me and put me to bed? I must have looked suspicious because he chuckled. "That's it, I swear. Although when you told me what you wanted to do to me, it was all I could do to resist. Before that I hadn't ever kissed a man." He ran his hands down my spine and stroked my lower back and I shivered all over. God, this was good. His hand slid under my shirt, caressed my skin, encouraging me to roll my hips against him. 

"What?" I asked vaguely in a whisper, half forgetting what we were talking about as his fingers traced circles on my heated skin, then realised I had to clarify. I didn't care about the kissing or not. I wanted to know what I'd said to him to make him have to resist me. I was somehow both aroused and mortified. This was worse than I'd thought. And then again, he'd known for how long now? Six weeks? Without saying anything? I considered hitting him for that, but then I realised that I'd still been hurting pretty bad when I'd told him. That he hadn't reached out to touch my hand tonight until I'd told him I was over Graeme. "What did I say?" I demanded, determined to ignore the electric currents flashing between us. I had to know. 

"Maybe I'll tell you later." He said with a smile that made my knees weak. Again, I debated hitting him. Instead I decided I was fighting a losing battle trying to talk to him and figured it would be better -far better- to drag him upstairs to bed. Especially when he had a smile like that in his arsenal.

I stood up and he looked at me apprehensively. I grinned and took his hand and pulled him up, brushed my other hand across his chest and found the swell of his wonderful pecs, the bud of his nipple. I might have been prepared for a moment like this if I'd known that it would happen today. At least my room was clean-ish. At least I wasn't drunk this time.

"Come upstairs." I invited, flicking my thumb over his nipple slow and then faster. John's eyes were warm and dark, liquid. I half expected him to stall, but he pulled me to him for another demanding, consuming kiss, before I wriggled away and dragged him upstairs. We got into my room, and I reached for John's shirt. He didn't let me get it off him, instead he wrapped me in his arms and pulled us to fall onto the bed. I fell on top of him, moved onto my hands and knees, straddling him and began to rub my denim clad erection against his. John groaned. 

"Fuck," He whispered. Cold chills slid down my spine. Normally swearing annoyed me. I'm a writer. I like variety and my mother always told me that swearing is a sure sign of a small vocabulary. I wasn't so sure anymore. John's soft cursing was hot as hell. 

"You like this?" I asked softly and reached to tweak his nipple through his shirt. I felt his dick twitch as he groaned. I looked down at him, drinking him in. He was so fucking gorgeous. I wanted to taste every inch of him, to lick him into submission. 

"Fuck, yes." He hissed, sliding his hands up my back. He pulled my hair out of its ponytail. "Your hair is so fucking sexy." He whispered, slid his hands into my hair and drew his fingers over my head. Starbursts exploded all over my scalp as he tugged gently and shot straight to my dick. I needed him. And now. 

I planned on tearing off his clothes and driving him crazy, but my thoughts were interrupted as he grabbed me and rolled so that he was on top, my legs wrapped around him. He rubbed against me like I'd rubbed against him, the denim unforgiving between us. The pressure was driving me crazy. I needed to get the jeans off. Now. "You're so hot." He breathed, pulled my shirt quickly over my head in a practiced gesture. Then he bit my nipple and circled it rapidly with his tongue as he slid his fingertips lightly over my stomach towards the waist of my jeans. My body arched against him. 

"I thought you hadn't done this before?" I managed dazedly when I'd recovered from the sensation. He laughed softly. 

"Which means I've never dated anyone."

"Oh. Is that what we're doing?" I asked, a warmth surging in my chest. His chuckle sent vibrations running through me. I couldn't stand this much longer. 

"And I've never kissed another man. But I sure as hell have done other things."

"Oh." I swallowed hard. I had sort of expected to be the initiator, to lead. Suddenly I was finding out that that wasn't going to apply to the bedroom. 

"Alright?" he husked near my ear. 

"Yeah." I murmured back, arching my neck in a silent invitation to his lips. It didn't matter. Not really. The important part was being here with him. And getting naked as fast as possible. My apprehension was basically the fact that I hadn't been with anyone except Graeme in close to seven years. I was feeling new to this again; thinking I was more experienced had been a way to feel more confident. Never mind that now. 

I attacked the buttons of his shirt and he undid my belt and jeans. We rolled on the bed together, hurriedly divesting ourselves of our clothes, teasing with gentle touches. The soft stroke of his thumb across the arch of my foot made me give a breathless giggle, the trailing of my fingertips up his thigh made him catch his breath. I shivered at the sensation when he rolled my nipple between his fingers, flicked my fingers in and out of his belly button. His startled murmur had me quivering. I didn't even stop to look him over, no matter how much I wanted to see him. We were both breathing unevenly, harshly in the quiet. Our hard cocks rubbed against each other between our bellies, smearing our precum over both of us as we jerked our hips together, seeking completion. All at once it was too much, and yet not enough. I hadn't felt an urgency like this forever. I needed him inside me. Now. 

I scrabbled in my top drawer and found my lube. I suddenly realised I didn't have any condoms. Graeme and I had been together so long that we'd gotten tested and barebacked. And the thought of that now made me sick, seeing as he'd been seeing someone else. 

"I don't have any condoms." I said, wide eyed and sick with disappointment. Fuck. Fuck! This was not how this evening was supposed to end! Fuck!

"It's ok." John said, leaning over the side of the bed. I didn't understand how he could be so calm. I was seething with panic and frustration. 

"No." I said firmly, shaking my head. "No, I won't take chances- I'm not-" I stopped as he pulled a small shiny square packet from the pocket of his jeans. He grinned at me and I may have started to melt. "Thank god." I groaned and kissed him, cupping his face tenderly in my hands. Either one of us hurrying out to the single all-night service station to grab condoms at this time of night would have had the whole town talking about it before dawn. Even buying them at the supermarket was not really a good idea if we wanted to keep this quiet. But I was never going to be caught without condoms ever, ever again. I was going to buy a hundred (or five. Or ten.) boxes of them next time I went shopping. I'd have to do it in another town though. His hands slid up my sides, his thumbs toyed with my nipples. "John, I need you." I whispered, moving onto my hands and knees and presenting him with my arse.

He chuckled and planted a kiss at the top of my crack. "Your dimples are so sexy." He whispered, drawing circles on my lower back again. I couldn't think of any response to that so I just moaned softly and tried to part my legs further. It felt so good to be wanted. I heard the snick of the cap on the lube, and groaned as his fingers brushed over me. He lightly smoothed my cheeks, spread me further. He stroked his fingers through my crack, circled around the soft puckered skin around my hole. I thought I was going to cum right there. I was holding my breath and gasping in turns. I wasn't going to last. It had been too long and it felt so perfect. He smoothly slid one finger into me and I pushed back against him, welcomed him inside me. A second finger joined the first. I lowered my head and whimpered softly. My cock was hard and leaking pretty bad, despite the twinge. It had been so long. It felt so good. He stretched me quickly while he kept stroking my lower back, soothing strokes. His fingers were warm and slick and nowhere nearly enough. I was panting, shaking, by the time he started finger fucking me gently, pushing back against him to try and get him deeper inside me. 

"Now. John." I groaned. "John, I need you. Now." His fingers pulled out of me and I heard him putting the condom on and applying more lube. I was too wrapped up in my own personal paradise to help. I wanted this so bad. His warm hands firmly gripped my hips. 

"Ready?" he whispered, and I nodded jerkily, felt the head of his cock brush against my balls and slip up my crack before he began to push against me. 

There was a pressure as I bore down, then a sudden familiar sharp sting of pain as the head pushed past the ring of muscles. The burn which quickly faded as he kept still behind me. 

"Tell me when," he breathed, his hands stroking my back and shoulders, running lightly down my sides and making me quiver. 

"When." I whispered immediately, ignoring the pain that remained. I needed this and I needed this now. He gently moved back and forth, shallow thrusts, penetrating a little deeper every time. I tried to push back and get him inside me faster, but he held my hips and eased himself into me, ignoring my whimpers. By the time he was fully seated I was a wreck. How could this be so good? He was hot and hard inside me, strength and sinew against me, but so gentle, so restrained. I needed more. I needed faster and harder. I was desperate for completion. My cock was harder than it should have been given our haste. I could hardly remember a time like this. I felt so full each tiny movement had me rapidly heading towards climax. Not without him, I thought desperately. "John." I moaned. "John." He began to thrust, long smooth strokes which brushed across my prostate and sent sparks of electricity shooting through my body. 

"Fuck." He hissed behind me. "So hot. So tight. I could do this forever, babe." 

"More." I managed. "Harder." The feeling was indescribable. I could hardly think to speak. My whole being was concentrated on his body and the way he made me feel. The fullness, the ripples of pure pleasure raging through my body. My arms were too weak to support myself. I lowered my chest, and the angle of his penetration changed. I made a muffled noise of ecstasy. He surged in and out of me perfectly, his cock stimulating my sweet spot every thrust. "Harder." I moaned more wildly, desperate for release, and John obliged. His hips slammed against my arse cheeks. His balls bounced against me and with every stroke he sent shockwaves and sparks through me until I was a quivering wreck. 

"Babe, I'm gonna come." He managed, hips moving in a shorter pattern, jerky and uncontrolled. "Babe- babe-"

"Yes! Fuck- yes! Ungh- John," I begged. "So close- uh- uh-" Warm tingles were taking over my skin, spreading rapidly all over my body, and my heart was pounding until I thought it might explode out of my chest. 

My balls tightened as soon as his fingers closed around me, he jacked me once, twice, three times, and I shouted out his name as I tripped over the edge and came with more force than I could remember. It was the only coherent word I could find. It was like fireworks, bursts of bright hot pleasure exploding all over my body. His hand kept rhythm, kept milking me, even as my muscles contracted and I knew he was about to follow. John bellowed behind me and his hips pumped erratically and he emptied his balls into the latex sheath. 

"Fuck." I whimpered, collapsing bonelessly onto my front. John was warm and heavy on top of me, kissing my shoulder and neck. "That was awesome." I felt the chuckle that rumbled through his chest. He pushed my hair aside and bit my neck gently. 

I shut my eyes and drew deep breaths. He was still half-hard inside me, moved slightly as we breathed. It felt really good. John nibbled along my shoulder, and then bit my neck. I jumped and groaned deep in my throat to let him know I liked it. 

"Good?" he whispered. 

"Mm hm." I mumbled, arcing my neck so he could bite my earlobe. God, that felt really good too. 

John began, with the slowest, gentlest circles of his hips, to grind against me. I tried to spread my legs further, get him deeper inside me. 

"Like that, huh?" he breathed. At the same moment I couldn't help a soft whimper from the way he was rubbing against my prostate, and he chuckled so I didn't bother to reply. 

I began to push back against him. I wanted him to thrust- I needed him to thrust. His strong hands held my hips still and the warm wetness of his tongue danced across my neck. Damn that was good... 

"John." I groaned, trying to hump back onto him with more force. He bit me and I may have moaned with relief when he began to thrust shallowly. 

I felt oversensitive and strangely dozey all at once. I hugged my pillow tight and made soft noises as John nibbled my shoulders as he fucked me. My dick was getting harder against the sheets. I was going to have to wash them tomorrow. 

"Harder." I moaned into the pillow. John sped up slightly. Oh god. He ran his hand up my side, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind and reached under me to tug my nipple. All tangential thoughts about the washing vanished. "John..." I murmured, and he began long, strong strokes which made me tingle all over. Then I couldn't think of anything to say. 

His movements got faster again. I lost myself in a world of sensation, the crisp sheets beneath me and the heat of him against my back, the pulses of pleasure running through my body created when he rubbed against my prostate. My balls were tightening rapidly now. I couldn't believe it. I was going to come for second time, already. John came inside me again, and the feel of him pulsing tipped me over the edge. My semen was hot and sticky against my stomach. 

John lay on top of me while we caught our breath, until his softening cock slid and he quickly pulled out and took off the full condom, tied a knot in it and tossed it to the floor. 

"I only had the one with me." He murmured against my sweat damp skin. I laughed softly and turned on my side to look at him. 

"Two uses is still pretty good. Just bring more next time, ok?" I said. It was as much a challenge as anything. Was this really 'more' or was this, to him, a quick fuck with a willing neighbour?

"Yeah." He agreed. "Didn't want to be too optimistic though. You know." I smiled, feeling something within me relax. I felt full and warm, positively giddy. Two orgasms in quick succession would do that. 




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 03



"Nope." I said, wondering why the hell he wouldn't have been as optimistic as possible if he'd been going to be optimistic at all. He grinned back at me. 

John: 

We were dozing, lying half on top of each other in his bed when I suddenly wondered what the fuck I was doing there. 

I was not that guy. I did not hang around after sex... I didn't know what to do, what to say... I'd said I wanted more, and I did... I just didn't know what that meant.

It was funny too that it had taken so long for the nervous fears to creep up on me. We must have been dozing together for quite some time.

I sighed and turned my eyes back to my lover. 

Keith was so beautiful, stretched out, completely relaxed, his legs tangled with mine. His eyes were closed, his lashes fanned across his cheeks, but I didn't think he was asleep. I had the chance to admire him fully naked at last. He was long and lean, even if he didn't quite match my height. He had nice sized shoulders, and his body tapered down to hips which were slender and graceful. His skin was beautiful, and he had basically no hair on his body apart from a tiny snail trail down from his belly button to his pubes.

I was thinking how glad I was that it was warm enough inside that we didn't need blankets, since it gave me the opportunity to look him over and I was admiring the most important part of his anatomy when he opened his eyes. I quickly met his gaze but he gave me a slow, cheeky grin. He knew exactly what I'd been looking at. 

"Hey, lover." He said, eyes coy. I knew what he was doing. He was seeing if I scared away that easily. 

"Hey." I responded, reached out and stroked his cheek. His smile was peaceful. I was so jealous. How could he be so at peace with himself? How could he be so calm, so confident? Everything I wanted to be and wasn't.

I leant forward and kissed him, sliding my hand into his hair. I was immediately decided. I resolved to show him that I wouldn't be going anywhere that easily. Not now that I was finally here. Even if I didn't have a clue what to do. 

"Shower?" Keith murmured. 

I couldn't help but grin. It must have come off wrong, because he shot me a dark look which I didn't think was serious, and got up off the bed. He walked across the room to the bathroom totally unselfconsciously. I followed him with my eyes, heard him turn the water on, start to hum. Who would have thought?

I got up and followed him, leant against the doorway and watched him step into the water. He turned his face up to the spray, eyes closed. I watched the water cascade over his body. Keith let out a moan of pleasure which made my heart skip a beat and my cock stir again. 

I stepped into the shower behind him, pulled him against me, his back against my chest. He stopped humming and moaned softly, arched his neck back against my shoulder so I could kiss him again. 

Little John was already waking up again, nestled as he was between Keith's perfect cheeks. Christ- again? I stroked my hands up the front of his torso, found his nipples and teased them. He moaned softly against my mouth as his nipples hardened under my fingers. 

"That's gooood." He breathed as I bit his neck gently, arching his body towards my hands. 

"Like that?" I asked softly, reducing my caresses to feather-light touches. He shivered. 

"Um-hmmm." He murmured. Little John was definitely interested again now. I rocked my hips gently so he rubbed against Keith's pucker. Keith gasped softly, his mouth falling open. I smiled, biting his neck again, and slid my hand down his belly. His cock was already half erect. I slid my hand down and grasped him gently, began sliding the skin gently up and down his length. "Mmmm." Keith mumbled, turning his face against my neck. He was hardening rapidly in my hand. I let go of his cock and slid my hands up and down his body again.

"Soap?"

"Hm? Oh..." he gestured vaguely. Well, now I knew how to get him to shut up. He seemed to lose the power of speech when aroused. I was going to store that one away for later. I grabbed the soap and began working up a lather between my hands. This was much nicer soap than I'd ever buy for myself. Keith the hedonist. Yeah, I could see that. 

I soaped him up and got him slippery all over, in which time he obviously regained some thought. He took the soap off me and gently washed me all over too. It was purely sensual. By the time we'd finished washing each other off I don't think there was a part of one another we hadn't touched. I'd never been this intimate with someone in my whole life. I was overwhelmed by the sense of occasion, found myself reluctant to speak. I don't know if Keith felt the same, but he was quiet too. When we were thoroughly clean, he reached up slightly and kissed me languidly. We were both hard again, Little John bumping against his dick with increasing regularity.

I turned Keith so his back was pressed against my chest again, slid my hand back to his cock. He made a beautiful soft whimper when I soaped him up and began to jack him gently, setting Little John between his cheeks again. He gasped and reached up his hand to my face. I looked at his expression, his eyes glazed and sleepy looking, and I was taken aback all over again by just how gorgeous he was. And he was mine. I felt a surge of protectiveness, moved to kiss him softly. 

He came like that, spurting against the tiled wall, convulsing and only making the softest whimpers through his gasps. It was hot as hell. 

I held him against me after, let him recover. He eventually scraped his nails lightly down my back and began to gently play with my arse. He smiled up at me coyly, and I might have broken our mutual silence to beg him, but suddenly the water temperature dropped. We both gasped and Keith quickly turned the taps off. 

We stepped out onto the bathmat and Keith pulled a towel out of a cupboard, then turned back to me. I had not expected him to wrap it around me and dry me. The towel was fluffy and nicer than anything I owned. Then again, he'd probably only bought them new since he moved here. 

He dried us off slowly and silently, maintaining the spell that seemed to be wrapped around us. Nothing existed apart from us. No words were required to express anything when we were attuned so closely to one another. Keith gave me a sultry look through his lashes when he came to the part of me that was still demanding attention, but he avoided Little John and dried my legs and feet thoroughly. I watched him with my heart my dry mouth. He gave me a cheeky smile from his position on his knees, then slowly pushed out his tongue and delicately drew the tip from the base to top of my dick. I shuddered and grabbed the towel rail. I needed to hang onto something. 

He tongued my slit, looking up at me, and finally took the swollen head of my cock into his mouth. His eyes were smiling, even if his lips were otherwise engaged. 

"Keith..." I hissed and he let Little John plop from his mouth. I groaned and he grinned at me. 

"Come to bed." He whispered, standing up. "The tiles are a little hard on the knees." He led me back into his bedroom, gave me a gentle shove. I complied with the implicit command and let myself fall on my back onto the bed. Keith stood over me, radiant. 

"Babe..." I was prepared to beg for this. A smile tugged at Keith's lips and he came onto the bed with me. 

"So fucking hot." He breathed and sent shivers right through me. Then he licked his lips and dove down on me and I couldn't think of anything to say in response. 

I'd had blow jobs before, but nothing like this. He teased me until I wasn't sure if I was in pleasure or pain. He used his lips and tongue and fingers until my nerve endings were hypersensitive. Keith brought me to the brink and then held me back, repeating the process until I was a quivering mess. And all the while he looked up at me with those wicked eyes. Finally he let me come. I couldn't stop myself from thrusting into his throat, but I managed to grab the sheets instead of his hair like I so badly wanted to. 

When I began to take notice of anything other than Little John, Keith was lying against me, brushing his fingers over my chest gently. I looked at him and he grinned. How could he be so confident, I wanted to know. Wasn't he afraid, like I was, that it hadn't been good enough? Instead Keith turned his chin up and kissed me again. He tasted sweet and I recognised the flavour of my seed on him. It was heady and arousing, made my heart pull towards him in a way I wasn't prepared to fully acknowledge. 

"For someone who hadn't kissed any guys before, you're getting pretty darn good at that." Keith murmured softly. His lips were pink and swollen. I smiled. 

"You give great head." I said immediately. Without thinking about it. Keith blushed, looking surprised, which only made me laugh. 

He made a face. "Is it weird if I think your laugh is sexy?" he asked then, propping his head on his hand and looking down at me. His eyes were so vividly coloured. 

I went warm all over. "No. But it sure isn't half as sexy as your eyes." Keith grinned. 

"Well, I was trying very hard to look slutty." He said loftily.

"As long as you only look slutty for me." I said without thinking. A big grin spread across his face. 

"Well there aren't any other gays in town now, are there?" he asked cheekily. All the same, the thought made something within me snarl a denial. I flipped us quickly, rested my weight on him. Keith tipped his head back and laughed and wrapped his leg around behind me. 

"You better not." I growled, ducked my head to the tempting spot on his neck he'd revealed leaning back like that. I hoped very much that my tone was light, in keeping with the rest of our exchange. Keith's smile was gentle. Ah. Obviously I wasn't as subtle as I'd like. 

"I won't." He said softly, fingers sliding into my hair. He sighed underneath me and relaxed almost totally. "John." He whispered and I smiled, continued charting his shoulders and neck with small kisses. 

I returned to his lips finally, and he opened his eyes and kissed me back. 

"I could kiss you all night." Keith murmured against my lips. It was a wonderful idea. All the same it was pretty much a dash of cold water. 

"You know I can't stay." I meant it to be a question, but it didn't sound like one. Keith's eyes were still warm, but sad now. 

"Why not?" he asked softly. 

"Because my car's here." I answered. "And-" what the hell was I going to stay that wouldn't offend him? I stopped and stared at him blankly, with knots inside me. 

"Yeah." Keith sighed softly, and kissed me again. There was a certain tenderness to the kiss which previously would have melted me. Now the knots were making it hard to relax. "Stay a little longer?" He whispered, and I met his gaze. His eyes were wide. He suddenly looked vulnerable. 

I nodded. "Of course."



Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 04



CHAPTER 4:

Keith:

Even though I knew he wasn't going to stay the whole night, rolling over and automatically reaching for someone who wasn't there wasn't a great way to wake up. I lay quietly for a moment, overwhelmed by a sudden anxiety. What if he hadn't been serious? What if it had just been a fuck?

Even if it had been a really, really good one...

I shook my head to clear it. It was at that point I forced myself to get out of bed. There was no point lying there stewing all day.

All the same, I couldn't help wondering what I'd got myself into.

I made breakfast and fired off an email to my sister. I wanted to tell her about my sudden fears, but I knew it was ridiculous. The only reason I was so het up was that he wasn't still around. Otherwise I'd still be just as relaxed and excited about this as I'd been last night.

The whole thing made me frustrated. I was not the needy guy who over-thought things and needed proof. I was the reckless one who fell in love and didn't care about the consequences, just let things unfold as they would. So why was I so worried now when I'd never been before?

I wanted to ask Emma what to do, but I decided to tell her the good news instead. I'd leave anything else for later.

<<< Hi Em! Sorry I couldn't chat last night! Tell me more about your friend- they're really interesting in reading a second rate novel? It's probably not even worth it. I don't even have a job. I'll be broke soon. Nevermind. I'm sure you could help out... How are mum and dad? Sorry I haven't been back to visit yet, but I'm actually pretty busy here. Coaching is going well (who'da thought!). Better than the writing, at least... PS- Dinner went UNBELIEVABLY well! I'm in love! Don't want to gross you out too much, but I got to christen the new bed... LOL! Xxoo>>>

I spent the day writing since I'd told Em I was getting something done, letting my anxiety flow onto the page. I made a quick lunch and went back to work. I was getting into the flow of things again and it felt good to write like this.

I was interrupted when the doorbell rang mid afternoon.

When I opened the door, John held up a paper bag with a grin.

"Uh. Hi." Obviously sleeping with him didn't solve the problems I had speaking around him. Either that or realising just how much I liked him had robbed me of my faculties.

"Got you something." He said.

"Oh. Right. Come in. I'm just making dinner. Are you staying to eat...?" John smiled at me more slowly.

"If you let me in." I opened the door. Idiot. "It'd be food out of the freezer at home." John added. Ouch. I was too busy wondering if he saw me as a butt with cooking skills to notice him shut the door. He pulled me into his arms. He didn't try and kiss me, just held me gently against him.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked softly, one of his hands sliding down my spine. I melted. Just a fuck? A butt who could cook? Not likely.

"Good."

"I didn't want to leave." He murmured. I'd been going to tell him that he didn't have to, but he slid both his hands down my back and I lost my train of thought. "Something smells good." He finally said.

"Besides you?" I said with a laugh, then stopped. Fuck. Was that the right thing to say?

John smiled. "Here." He said, and gave me the bag.

I led him into the kitchen and quickly checked that nothing was burning, then opened the bag- and found a new shower head.

"But mine works." I said stupidly.

"Yeah." He agreed. "I don't know if you noticed, but there wasn't exactly enough water for both of us." I blushed. I hadn't noticed. I had been far too busy paying attention to more important things.

"We can always use the bath." I suggested. I sounded quite vague, really. John smiled.

"I like that idea." He leant forward and brushed his lips against mine. I waited for more, breathed him in. "Can I help?" he asked instead.

"Hmm?"

"With dinner." Ah, yes. I was supposed to be cooking.

"Oh. Right. Uh... no. You can sit down. I'd offer you a beer," I added, recovering some of my mental capacities, "but no one will sell me any." John only chuckled.

"I'll bring some." He said easily.

"How- how was your day?" I asked. What I really wanted to know was if he'd missed me as much as I'd missed him.

"Not bad." He said with a shrug. "Except in my head we never left that bed, so I found it pretty hard to concentrate all day. I've compiled a mental inventory of all the things I want to do to you. It's a pretty long list." He only watched me, smiling, as I went red. I never blushed this much.

"Sounds like a good day." I offered. What the else was I supposed to say to that?

"It's better now."

My laptop was sitting open on the table and he bent to look at the page I had up. I quickly grabbed it and he looked at me with a grin.

"I could have picked you for one of those." He said slyly.

"What?" I said. What was he talking about? And where had this paranoia come from?

"My nephew's the same. You can't look at anything til it's finished."

I shot him a grin. "Glad you understand." I said dryly.

John left the room to use my bathroom, and I went to turn my laptop off, noticed I had a new email from Em.

<<< Forget my friend, that can wait. I want to know about you. I'm glad you're happy, but are you sure? Just seems a bit quick after Graeme, is all. Don't want you to get hurt... (Unless this isn't a person you're talking about but a toy... Ew I can't believe I suggested that. I don't want to know.) And LOL that's ok. You have to come visit for my B-day tho. There is an implied threat attached to that, btw. Em. XXOO >>>>>

I decided I'd better email her back and reassure her. Even if there was every chance John would come back and look over my shoulder while I did.

<<< Of course I'm sure- since when have I been one to jump into things without thinking about them? And I'm not offended, and I know I rush things, but this has been brewing and I am SO over Graeme. It's been months!!! And he's perfect. He's absolutely perfect. Absolutely delicious! (definitely not a toy.) Gotta go; we're making dinner. And yes, I'll come home! When have I ever missed your b-day? (ps- don't answer that!) Xxoo >>>>

________________



Sunday morning. The perfect morning for a sleep in. Except that I'd gone to bed early since John had got a call from the station right after dinner and had had to leave straight away and now I was wide awake.

I got up and had a shower, found myself singing something really daggy and catchy. I wondered why they were the songs that I always seemed to end up singing in the shower. Maybe it was a sign. God. I hoped I wasn't that lame.

I was between songs when I heard some banging. I ignored it. What sort of person knocks on doors before 10 on a Sunday morning? It wasn't even 9 yet. I was not going to hurry and answer it. Maybe if they kept knocking. But probably not.

I did a little dance as I finished getting dressed and heard another noise.

That was funny. It sounded an awful lot like my drawers in the kitchen opening.

I listened carefully for a moment, heard more noises I couldn't identify, but I came to the conclusion that it hadn't been someone at my door I'd heard, but someone breaking in. There was someone in my house. I gave up the idea of ignoring it and seeing if it went away as quickly as it crossed my mind. I needed coffee. I was not going to stay upstairs all day on the off chance there was someone robbing me.

What I really needed was a gun. Or a baseball bat.

Or, I thought, very nearly resorting to slapping my palm against my forehead, my mobile phone. Which I'd conveniently left downstairs.

I edged downstairs as quietly as I could, expecting someone to jump out at me every step of the way. Now it was deathly quiet. My heartbeat was unnaturally loud in my ears.

I made it to the hallway, edged towards the kitchen. Noises like someone was going through my fridge. What the fuck were they going to steal from my fridge? The kitchen drawers I could sort of understand. Like if they were looking for a weapon. I had some pretty big knives. But the fridge?

I peered around the door and ducked back just as quickly while there were more noises, hoping my intruder was occupied and not going to see me.

Hang on...

I took a longer look around the doorframe.

"John!" I burst out. He looked up from my fridge, a sheepish look on his face. "You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

"I rang the bell. Guess you were singing too loud to hear me." He looked amused, shrugged. "Wouldn't have picked you for an ABBA fan."

Ah crap. "How d'you get in?" I demanded again. I was going to ignore his comment about my singing.

"You haven't fixed your back door yet. This is the second time I've got in." Oh right. Yeah. He took advantage of my dazed state to pull me to him. "I had a crappy evening without you." He murmured. "I thought we could hang out today."

His warmth against me erased all the second thoughts I might have been having. "Mmm." I agreed, leaning my head against his.

"Watch movies. Cook. Sleep. Whatever you want. Unless you have other plans?"

"No." I told him, then grinned. "And I did promise to show you the tub."

John grinned. "Breakfast first?" he asked. I nodded once. "I can't figure out your coffee machine, though."

"I can do that." I jumped up straight away. It was good to do something other than stare at John and think naughty thoughts while he cooked me breakfast.

"So." John said after a short silence. "You sing."

"Yes." I said defensively. I was blushing already. Crap crap and double crap. He nodded. Gave me a look very much like some I'd received from him the other night. I wanted to drag him back upstairs to bed.

"Cute." He said. I blinked. What was that supposed to mean? Was he being sarcastic or what? "You want me to fix your door?" He asked then.

"Huh? Why?"

"So I can't break in again."

"Now I know it's you, I'm not actually bothered by the fact that you're breaking in." He laughed softly.

"Yeah, but if someone other than me breaks in, you might freak them out if you try to jump them."

"I didn't try and jump you. Yet." I retorted, smiling. Now there was an image to savour. "You can fix it?"

"Sure." He said with a shrug.

"Ok. Great." I agreed. I wasn't going to tell him just yet, but a new door was probably a good idea. And then I was going to give him a key.

John wasn't half bad at breakfast. His French toast was pretty perfect. If I'd been able to find my vanilla essence then I'm sure it would have been even better.

We ate breakfast and talked the whole time. John and I had talked before, at Sarah's over dinner, at Jim's, in the street, and even the other night, but not like this. I felt for the first time that we were being totally open with each other. Or more, that it was the first time I'd really started to relax.

Afterwards we washed up - I'd wanted to leave it for later, but John insisted he helped now and I kind of liked that he did.

I went upstairs to grab a jumper, since it was a little cooler than I'd thought, and when I came back down John was searching through my bookshelves and my CD collections. I laughed at him and told him where my DVDs were.

He grinned back at me and asked me if I was going to bring a blanket for the couch, then.

My throat went dry but it was anticipation that sped up my heart.

I ran upstairs to pull the quilt off my bed, and then hurried downstairs again, tripping close to the bottom of the steps on the corner of the damn thing.

John was kneeling by the tv, holding a couple of my DVDs.

"Really?" he asked with a wince, looking at me.

"Yes." I said defensively and he started to laugh. Obviously he hadn't picked me for a trashy crime show fan. Never mind. It wasn't exactly something I told the world.

"What do you watch, then?" I asked.

He shook his head and watched me flop onto the couch. "Not this sort of stuff. I don't really know where to even start."

"The one in your left hand." I directed him helpfully. "If you don't like it we can go to the video shop."

"Ok." He said dubiously. He was probably wondering what people would think about us choosing videos to watch together on a Sunday.

I curled up next to him on the couch and during the course of the film found myself getting progressively closer to him until I was lying with my head on his lap. He stroked my hair.

I wondered how much of the movie he was taking in. I certainly wasn't thinking about it anymore. I let my fingers play along the seam of his trousers inside his thigh. He shifted slightly beneath me, as if to give me more access, and began gently scraping his nails against my skull. I shivered.

"Good bit?" John asked quietly. I looked at the screen.

"Mm?" I answered blankly. I had no idea what part of the movie we were even up to. John chuckled and I looked up at him.

"I meant right here," he said tracing the back of my neck. I shivered again.

"Oh. Yeah." He smiled at me.

Within a few minutes I was lying on John's chest, straddling his hips. His hands were in my hair and under my shirt while I unbuttoned his and our tongues tangled. I guess it was inevitable.

He slid his hands between us and I obligingly lifted up so he could unbutton my jeans. He slid his hands around to my arse and I moaned softly and rubbed against his growing erection to let him know how much I liked it.

He kneaded my cheeks for a while, began to lightly circle my pucker. My breathing hitched and I slid my hand down to his cock and began to stroke him firmly. Just being able to touch him made me so happy. John was already hard, leaking under my fingers.

John groaned and tilted his head back, away from my lips. I nibbled his collarbone instead. His hands flew to the back of my head.

"Keith," he murmured. I could feel the hitch in his breathing in the movement of his chest.

"Relax," I murmured, smiling down at him. "Tell me how you want it."

John jerked beneath me and looked up at me.

"Not likely." He murmured.

"Come on," I wheedled. I wanted so bad to do this for him, and as lame as it sounded, to please him as best I could. "Aren't you going to let me do this?"

"No." He said, smiling, but his eyes were dark and his cheeks were flushed. His pulled me back for a kiss and slid his hand back down to my cheeks. "You don't really think I'm going to stop touching you, do you?"

"Mmm," he started teasing the soft skin around my hole again and hot little bolts shot through me. Unfortunately, when he pushed his finger into me I jerked and gasped sharply before I could help it.

"You ok?" John said, sounding rather surprised.

"Yeah." I answered, leaning in for another kiss and hoping he didn't say any more about it.

"No you're not." He said with some alarm.

"I'm just a little tender." I admitted reluctantly. He looked totally blank. I wasn't actually quite that tender or sore - it had been a reflex more than anything - but I wondered if he'd ever been faced with a night after or if they'd all been one night stands.

John gave me a suspicious look.

I shrugged, but I realised that he didn't get it. I'd have bet anything that he'd only ever had quick fucks. He probably didn't have much of an idea about preparation...

He stroked my hair, but he looked unsure. "It had been a while, you know. I probably should have got you stretch me out for a bit longer first the other night. So I'm not hurt. It's just, you know, a natural side effect."

"Sure." He said quietly, but he was apprehensive. I leant forward and kissed his lips, trailed my mouth over his jaw and sucked his earlobe into my mouth.

"So we do it slowly. Really slowly. I'll tell you exactly what to do. And then," I kissed him one more and then sat up on him, grinding my erection against his. "I'm going to ride you like this..."

"Keith," he murmured as I pinched his nipples and rubbed against him faster. He gripped my hips to stop me. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know." I said gently and quietly. "Believe me, I do. It's fine. Really. And if I'd even messed around with my toys since-since I moved here, then it really would be fine. It's just been a while."

John stared at me, blinked rapidly. "Toys?" he finally repeated. I could feel his erection straining beneath me.

"Mm hm." I murmured idly as if it was nothing much, when in fact I wanted to laugh. John licked his lips.

"What-what sort of toys?" He asked hesitantly.

"Oh, you know. The usual. A couple of different dildos. Vibrator. Um... nothing much." He was staring at me like it was. I smiled slowly. We were going to have soooo much fun. I hadn't used them for ages, actually. I'd gone out and bought them when Grae was on a business trip for a couple of weeks and I'd been lonely. He couldn't figure out why I was so into phone sex that trip. He was a bit shocked when he got home. He never entirely warmed up to the idea of it, although on rare occasions he had liked to use them on me.

John pulled his shirt off suddenly and then pulled mine off too. I pulled my blanket over us and attacked his jeans.

"I don't need them anymore though." I told him idly as we rubbed our erections together, restrained by the damp cotton of our underwear. John's look was somehow both appalled and confused.

"What?" he managed, panting. I reached to pull our underwear down.

"My toys. Unless," I said slowly, wrapping my hand around our cocks and stroking them, twisting my wrist. John groaned. I caught my breath. The feeling of his cock against mine was crazy good. We were both moving our hips as if that would help. I leant forward so I could kiss him and whisper in his ear. "Unless you'd like to watch me." John's colour heightened.

"Watch you?" he repeated breathily.

I groaned at the delicious sensations as he reached and squeezed my cheeks gently. He was leaking precum and it felt wonderfully slick against my skin. It hadn't take us long at all to fall into a rhythm together.

There was a few brief moments of heavy breathing and hot friction between us before I replied. "Yeah." I said, and kissed him briefly. "Watch me lay on the bed, all exposed. Watch me touch myself. First I'll play with my nipples." John groaned softly and I ducked my head and nipped one of his to punctuate the thought. His hips jerked up harder beneath me. "Then I'll get the first drops of precum on my fingers and suck it off. The first drops are the sweetest, don't you think?" John's breath caught, his hips thrusting up to meet mine with more urgency. I scooped some of our precum off our bellies and brought it to my lips. "And while I'm sucking on my fingers I'll use my other hand to make myself so hard I'll be so close to cumming.... And then I'll let you watch me put my wet fingers inside myself, one first, and then a second. I'll stretch myself out really well. And I'll still be so hard I'll barely be able to stand it. And then when I'm good and ready, I'll take that first dildo and I'll-" John gave a half cry, sounding rather surprised, and erupted between us.

"Christ." He said when his hips had finished jerking and covered his eyes. I hadn't realised he'd been so close. I laughed softly and kissed him.

"Mental imagery was that good, huh?" I asked him.

"Well the guy in my head is good, but you should give yourself some credit." He said dryly. "You're not half bad either." I grinned. I was still hard between us.

I rested my head on John's shoulder. He sighed and cursed again softly.

"You ok?" he asked finally.

"Well, yeah." I agreed, slightly bemused.

"Good." He said, and as I was about to ask why, he moved off the couch and dumped me in a sitting position.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 04



"Huh- Ungh..." I made a ridiculous sound that had at first been confusion and then turned to mindless desire when he knelt between my knees and began to stroke his fingers lightly down the insides of my thighs.

Oh. Oh, yeah. I sank further down the couch. I was presenting myself to him. I was begging without words. Would he really do it?

John smiled at me. "I have done this before, you know."

"But you never kissed anyone?" I retorted, perhaps more sharply than I'd meant to. I was trying to conceal my surprise. I was kind of upset that he'd so obviously noticed how much I wanted this.

"No." He said, eyes twinkling. His fingertips strayed closer to my sac, then slid lightly over my skin away again.

"John." I whispered.

"Does that mean please?" he asked.

"Something like that." I murmured. My hips were moving. It was almost embarrassing to be so out of control, but at the same time it was wonderful. Liberating. I had a beautiful, golden boyfriend and he was teasing me in the best way possible.

"Well." He said with an ironic shrug. "Since you asked so nicely." I let my head drop back as he leant forward and began to lap at the head of my penis.

"Oh god." I moaned, sliding my hands into his soft hair.

He sucked me into his mouth, sank down. I raised my hips without thinking and he drew back quickly. I think I must have hit his gag reflex. He put his forearm over my hips to hold me still. I felt like a jerk. I knew he was probably a little inexperienced at this sort of thing and I still hadn't been able to stop myself. He recovered pretty fast, though, bobbing up and down on my shaft almost torturously slowly. He managed to get a little more of me into his mouth, but not all. I didn't care in the slightest.

He took his time licking and sucking and exploring so that I was desperate for release by the time I felt my balls tightening.

"John," I managed, trying to pull his head away with my fingers in his hair. "I'm going to cum." He ignored me. "You don't have to-" I tried again, but he began to lightly stroke behind my balls and I was lost.

I came hard, spilling into John's velvet hot mouth, unable to form a coherent thought. I hoped that wailing sound wasn't me, but I was pretty sure it was. I was swamped by sensation, breathing hard. Nothing existed but the man kneeling between my legs.

John was gently licking my penis still, lapping up my cum, when I opened my eyes. "John." I whispered. He looked up and smiled in a very sultry manner. He had cum on his face. He slowly licked his lips while I watched. I gave a half crazed sounding laugh. God, he was gorgeous.

I slid off the couch in front of him and pulled him to kiss me. The taste of my seed in his mouth was heady, addictive.

John wrapped his arms around me and stroked my spine. I melted.

"How about you show me the tub?" he asked. I smiled at him.

"Probably a good idea." I agreed. Our chests and stomachs were sticky with John's cum, my cum was smeared on my thighs and his face, and he'd got his on his arm when he'd leant on me, and now he had that arm against my back. We were covered in it. We definitely needed to check out the tub.

Sitting in the bath leaning against John's chest was the most wonderful feeling. It had been my first fantasy revolving around him, and it was just as good as I'd dreamed. Better, actually. Even if there was no more sex involved, there was always next time.

John had taken the soap and was using a flannel to scrub my hands. It was particularly relaxing. I hadn't realised my hands were so sensitive.

He moved up my arms and I tied up my hair out of the way to give him access to my shoulders and neck. He worked up a later and then rinsed the suds off. I had my eyes closed, enjoying this beyond belief. I smiled to myself when he pressed his lips down my back.

"Feeling good?" John murmured.

"Mm hmmm." I answered lazily.

John chuckled softly from behind me. I felt all strange and fizzy inside. It took me a minute to figure out that this was the purest happiness I'd felt in what felt like an age.

"We should do this more often," I said, leaning my head back against John's shoulder.

"I knew it." John murmured.

"What?" I asked.

"You. You're a hedonist."

That made me laugh out loud.

"No one's ever said that to me before... but ok. Yeah, I guess you're right. But all the same. We should do this more often."

"As often as we can." John murmured, kissing the side of my head.

My heart floated.

________

We lay on my bed with our fingers tangled together. John was solid and reassuring against my back.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked quietly.

"Mm." he answered, kissing my neck softly.

It was mid afternoon now and the light in the room was golden. This had been the best lazy Sunday ever.

"How come no one knows?" I asked. It was more indirect than asking why he wasn't out. He stilled behind me, so I knew he understood what I meant.

"Small town." He said softly. I waited. He sighed. I rubbed lazy circles on his palm. "Mm. I dunno." He answered, but he sounded reluctant. I reckon he did know, but couldn't bring himself to say.

I wanted him to trust me. I wanted him to be open and be able to tell me anything.

His body was so tense against mine that I didn't ask anything further. No matter how desperate I was to know more.

_____________

It was Monday morning that I actually got another opportunity to check my laptop again. I had another email from Em.

<<<Tell more more then! Who is he? What's he do? What's he look like? What's HE like? Dying of anticipation here! Em XXOO >>>>



I laughed and fired an email back again.

<<<Can't say much. He's not out yet!!! All I'll say is this: he's a bit taller than me, he's just GOLDEN and he's got this slow sexy laugh that makes me melt all over. Em I've got it bad... *sigh* He broke into my house to cook me breakfast yesterday morning... Isn't that the most romantic thing? XXOO >>>

I had a response from Em by the next morning. She wasn't as thrilled as I'd have liked.

<<< HE'S NOT OUT YET??? Are you sure about this? This does NOT seem like a good idea to me. Keith, you haven't even been single long and now you're dating some guy in the closet? And he BROKE IN??? What part of that seems romantic to you exactly??? Do I need to come down there and check him out? I don't have a gun but I'm sure I know someone who could get their hands on one... >>>>



<<<Em! Don't you dare! My back door is just a little loose, so it wasn't like he broke a window or used a crowbar! And come on! It was breakfast!!! And YES I'm sure!!! It's not like he's married and gay on the side! He's perfect. And I suspect he won't be in the closet much longer... It's a small town and he's never even had a real relationship. It's no big deal! Don't stress! But I am looking forward to him coming out. Then he can move in. LOL! Can't believe I told you that. We only just started dating!!! Xxoo >>>>>

I had a knock on my door late Tuesday night.

I wasn't expecting John, since I knew he had late shifts at the start of the week, but I was hoping it was him all the same.

It was.

He wrapped me in his arms as soon as I opened the door and bundled me inside. He kicked the door shut behind us.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" I asked with a grin.

"I went home. Sick." He said, returning my smile. "Wanted to see you." I smiled.

"I missed you too." I said, pulled him to kiss me.

It was an unreasonable desire to be able to see him every day, and I knew it. It was going to be impossible when he worked odd hours and wasn't out. But it didn't mean I didn't want to. And it certainly didn't stop me from missing him.

___________

John came to fix my door that Wednesday. He took the door off the hinges and made notes about the frame and measured things and I opened up the large ramshackle garage down the back of the long garden behind the house for him to work in.

I'd never even been in the garage. You could only just see it down the back from the house, not because it was so far away, but because of the trees. It was pretty empty, apart from a massive workbench I suspected had been left behind due to its size and weight.

I had to go coaching only a few minutes after he arrived but when I came home I went out to see him straight away.

He'd taken his shirt off and had tucked it into the back of his jeans. He seemed to have finished with the door. All he seemed to be doing was taking some final measurements and he was enormously sexy.

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you." I didn't realise I'd spoken out loud until John turned to look at me with a grin.

"You got pissed on my shift." He said with a nonchalant shrug. I smiled.

He looked back down at the door, pursing his lips briefly. Those lips.

I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle, kissed along the ridge of his spine. His skin was slightly damp in the heat. I wanted to taste him. I delicately nibbled and licked across the line of his shoulder.

"Your door won't be any less crooked than when I started if you keep that up." John warned me, but his voice was light and teasing.

"Have you had a break yet?" I demanded. I wouldn't have asked if I had thought he had actually taken one.

John wasn't working anymore. The scratch of the measuring tape had stopped and he was totally still. As if he really actually wanted me to stop! I ran my hands down his chest to the front of his jeans. Sure enough, I was vindicated to find him hardening under the denim.

I stepped in front of him and hooked my arms around his neck as I rubbed my groin against his. John gave me a slow amused smile.

"You can't resist me." He said smugly.

"Damn straight." I agreed. "Why would I want to even try?" I began unbuttoning his jeans and John bent his head to kiss me hard. He gripped the backs of my thighs just below my cheeks and hoisted me against him and up. I found myself perched on the edge of the workbench, which, unlike the kitchen table, happened to be exactly the right height for this.

"Pants. Now." He spoke against my lips. We fumbled with our jeans until my bare arse cheeks were on the wood of the table and his jeans and underwear were around his thighs. Our cocks rubbed together, skin to skin.

John muttered something near my ear as he bit my neck. None of the words really were clear to me. Except two. I pushed him away so I could speak.

"Did you just say 'Little John'?" I asked. I was in shock. John went deep red. He was going to try and deny it. "Like from Robin Hood?" I asked.

He hesitated, then nodded once.

The character ironically named since he was actually rather large. How did I even remember that? Had I even read the book? "Oh my." I said with a grin, and pulled him into a kiss. For some reason that made me even hotter under the collar. I pulled him closer.

"Why?" he asked sharply. "Yours got a name?"

"You could help me think of one." I suggested coyly and wrapped my legs around him to get him closer and harder against me.

John grinned at me. "How about Maid Marian?"

"Or not." I said firmly with one raised eyebrow. John just laughed and captured my lips for another kiss.

Our cocks rubbed together against our stomachs, deliciously hot, slicker by the second. John's skin was lightly damp, tasted slightly salty when I bit his shoulder.

The cords in John's neck were beginning to stand out. He reached between us and slipped his hand around both our cocks, stroked them both together. I moaned and slid my fingers into his hair, demanded another kiss. His tongue stroked against mine, hot and slick.

I dug my heels into the backs of his legs. Being half naked basically out in the open had me ready to cum at a moment's notice. My balls were already pulling up, tightening.

"John," I moaned.

"Cum for me," he whispered back, jacking our cocks faster, more tightly.

"John! Uh!" I dug my fingers into the backs of his shoulders, fought for breath as I came. I couldn't help my hips jerking, heard John groan against me. His hand moved against us again, slick with my cum. Both of us moaned as he came as well, spurting between us.

I kissed his mouth and his nose, his cheeks and his chin. John groaned softly and turned his mouth to mine for a deeper kiss.

He pulled back and smiled at me darkly, lifted his cum covered hand.

I leant forward, keeping eye contact, and slowly stuck out my tongue, ran it over his skin to collect our combined cream. John groaned again, then laughed and wiped his hand on my t-shirt.

He kissed me briefly then helped me pull my t-shirt over my head. He used it to wipe us clean, kissed me softly, then pushed it at me so I caught it.

"Can I finish your door now?" he asked dryly. "Or haven't you gotten enough attention yet?"

"No. That'll do it." I agreed, laughing and pulling his jeans back up over his hips. "I'll go back inside and make some dinner. Maybe afterwards we can try this again..."

I slid off the bench and John helped me pull my pants back up as well. I rubbed my palm over the stubble on his cheek and stole another kiss. John wrapped his arms around me.

"You know I'm not going to be able to concentrate now, don't you?" he asked. I chuckled.

"So come inside and have a drink. Oh wait, I still can't buy beer."

John grinned. Obviously my sour tone did nothing but amuse him. "Lucky I put some in your fridge then."



John:

I walked into the café, somehow transformed between closing and now, and couldn't help my mouth falling open with shock.

This wasn't the same café Keith sat in half the week. This wasn't the same place I dropped past as often as I could on the pretence of Jim's great cake just so I could sit with him and chat.

The café had been transformed. Lights, streamers, and a crowd of people all with beer or wine in hand.

It wasn't the balloons or the banners or the decorations or the mountains of food or the music. Angie's birthday had always been going to be big. Especially since, being married to Jim, she didn't need to fork out for a venue.

No, it wasn't the party, already in full swing that shocked me. It was similar, to a varying extent, every five years or so.

No, it certainly wasn't the party that surprised me.

It was Keith.

He and Jim's wife were on the counter, dancing, and I was pretty sure it wasn't Angie's idea. I couldn't imagine Jim being very happy about anyone (except a gay guy) dancing with his wife like that. Angie was laughing, looking a bit embarrassed, but Keith was absolutely in his element.

My mouth was totally dry.

Christ. I was going to have to get him to dance for me when we were alone.

Keith:

John had been watching me none too subtly all night- especially when I'd had Angela dancing on the counter with me. What can I say? Obviously I'm an exhibitionist at heart. I went down the hall that lead past the kitchen towards the laneway and went into the bathroom, splashed a little cold water on my face to cool off a little while I was there. When I stepped out, someone grabbed me and steered me into the back alley. John. There was a green dumpster which John pushed me past, and then, holding my arms, backed me into the brick wall.

"Hi." I said with a grin as he pinned my arms above my head. I had to conceal how turned on I was by his actions. "You liked my dancing?"

"Far too much." He said with an answering smile. "So much that I don't think I should let you dance in public ever again." I laughed and slid my arms around his neck.

"Well, I couldn't see Jim getting up there. And everyone should dance on a table at least once in their life. Even you." I added cheekily. He snorted. "I know a great club." I went on softly. "In the city. It goes all night. And you can dance on the tables. Management don't seem to mind too much. Well, they wouldn't, because that's one of the reasons we go back again and again. God, you'd bring the house down." I smiled at him, imagining dancing on those tables with him, grinding and moving so that everyone knew he was mine and they'd all be sick with disappointment. I was sick with longing. "That might not be a good idea." I finally conceded. "I get jealous."

"Which is why you shouldn't dance in public either." John said with a smile, then leant closer and brushed his lips across mine. We knew not to start anything since we'd have to go back in before too long, but it didn't seem to help. I was getting hard and desperate to have him inside me.

John moved closer to me, kissed me more deeply. I knew we had to go back in but right then I didn't care.

Suddenly he went still.

"Hear that?" he asked.

"... no...?" I waited, but he only listened. "Probably Sarah." I teased.

"Yeah." John went on with a snort. We both knew she was at home with the kids. "You've deliberately told her to follow you around in the hope she'd catch me..."

"And I deliberately lured you out here and forced you against the wall to kiss you just so she could stumble across us..." I went on, lightly sarcastically and made as if to struggle to get my arms back. John chuckled quietly and stole another deep drugging kiss.

I wondered if he'd forgotten what he'd heard or if he just didn't care.

The fact that he was able to joke about Sarah finding out was good.

... wasn't it?

"So you coming over tonight?" I asked. If he said no then I was prepared to beg.

"Mm. Are you going to dance for me?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you ask nicely." I teased. Hell, yes. I would dance for him anytime. Especially since I suspected it would be a dance that would end up with both of us naked and dancing horizontally, which was exactly how I wanted him.

John licked his lips and my legs went weak.

"Better go back in." He said reluctantly.

"Yeah." I agreed. Otherwise I was probably going to beg him to fuck me right here, and I didn't think he'd really appreciate that.

Maybe once he was out he wouldn't object.

John arrived at my place a good three quarters of an hour after I did. He'd taken to walking over here so his car wasn't around too much, so I knew he'd gone home first and come back.

I'd been pacing the hall, wearing a hole in the carpet and trying to ignore the erection straining inside my pants. I'd been wondering how could I be this aroused without any sort of stimulation.

When he arrived I grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss. It didn't take more than moments before I was naked and he was naked (enough) and falling with me onto the couch.

John stuffed a cushion under my hips and produced a condom from thin air. I snatched it from him and put it on him. John let out a long low moan as I stroked my hands down his length.

"Um- lube?" I asked. I wanted him hard and fast but not without lube. He grinned and pulled a tube from his jacket. "Well prepared." I said with a grin and lay back.

I was startled to feel the plastic of the tube against my pucker, squirmed as John used his fingers and eased it into me. I wanted to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing- but he grinned at me and squeezed the tube... and suddenly I was shuddering with pleasure at the sensation of the lube being squeezed directly inside me. It felt cool and strangely wonderful.

"Aaah, John," I moaned, wriggling again but unable to accomplish any relief. John slicked himself up while I watched, then moved forward, position the head of his penis against my hole. "Yes." I groaned. "Yes, yes..."

John surged forward. I felt the vibration of his low moan through me as his hard cock sank deeper into me. I felt myself stretching around him, the sting of pain which only felt good.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 04



"Good?" he asked roughly, grinding slowly against me rather than starting to fuck me.

"Oh god, John!" My fingers dug into his shoulders. He was pressing against my prostate and I had no thoughts of any pain any more. "Please..."

"How do you want it?" He husked, his lips brushing over mine.

"Hard. Now- aaah," I threw my head back and he bit the corner between my neck and shoulder.

"You're so hot... so tight... make me so hard," he was moving too slowly, too gently.

"John, please... harder..." His mouth trailing softly over my neck, my collarbones.

"Is that how you want it? Hard?"

"Yes... please, yes..." His mouth ghosting across mine, not a real kiss, not enough, not nearly enough...

"Or I could keep making love to you like this... nice and slow..." His fingers stroking lightly across my nipple. Goosebumps erupted across my chest and arms.

"Fuck..." I groaned, clutching his shoulders hard. "John, you're driving me crazy..."

John's laugh rumbled in his chest and made me shiver. "That's the point." He murmured near my ear.

I think I half screamed as he bit my ear and began slamming into me. He didn't speak anymore- he was putting all of his energies into making me cum as hard as he could.

"John, oh god," I clutched his shoulders and savoured the groans coming from his chest in time with his rapid thrusts.

I reached between us and began to jack myself. It was building so fast and I needed to cum so badly.

"Cum inside me," I said roughly. John keened and I reached to pinch his nipple. "Cum for me. Cum inside me, John," He swore softly and his hips started pumping erratically as he came inside me.

I jacked myself faster, feeling my balls rising, closed my eyes. John's weight was comforting and hot against me.

"Here, beautiful," he spoke unsteadily, resting his face against mine, and his hand closed around my cock and pushed mine away. "Your turn now, babe. You love my cock, don't you? Cum for me, Keith." My body spasmed as I came, my head tilting back and my legs tightening around him, my hips jerking up and my toes curling.

"Fuck," I groaned and John laughed softly from above me.

He brought his cum slick hand up and I sucked his fingers clean, one at a time. His eyes looked glazed and hungry.

"So hot," he whispered. I grinned and had to laugh.

"God, this couch is going to be so stained." I managed.

John gave a laugh that sounded outraged. "I make you cum that hard and you're worried about your couch?" I laughed as well and pulled him down to kiss me.

"Up," I finally said, prodding him. "Shower. I need a shower."

We wandered naked into the downstairs bathroom and washed quickly. John looked as tired as I felt.

"Want a beer?" I asked. As tired as I was, I didn't want him to go yet.

"Sure, why not?" He responded, stretching languidly.

I padded out of the bathroom in my towel and John followed, similarly clad. It made me smile. I loved the fact he was happy to walk around my house basically naked.

John made for the fridge while I went to the pantry to see what I had I could make a snack with.

I turned around, saw John stopped at the fridge, looking at the calendar.

"You're coming to Sarah's." He said flatly. I blinked.

"On Wednesday? Yeah. Why?"

He looked at me, face shuttered.

I felt startled, but more than that, deeply uneasy. We'd had dinner at Sarah's once already since we'd started 'dating' and it hadn't been a problem. We'd just acted exactly like we had at her place before we'd started this thing and it had been fine.

"John, what's wrong?" I asked softly. His mouth twitched slightly, like he wanted to frown.

"It's Sarah's birthday." He answered almost perfectly impassively.

"She didn't tell me that!" I objected. He looked back at the calendar. "Is that a problem?" I asked carefully.

"No. Why would you think that?" John asked, but his voice sounded brittle. It made me think that there definitely was a problem.

What did I say now? Demand to know what was wrong with him?

"I have to go." John said suddenly.

"John..." I was thoroughly bemused by this. Why was he upset and why was he going?

"Working early." He said.

I nodded, didn't dare point out that that had never been a problem before.

I walked him to the door, but he left without even kissing me goodnight.

Wednesday came and I hadn't told Sarah I couldn't come. I'd toyed with the idea, but I had no real idea if that was even the problem. I couldn't figure out why John cared if Sarah invited me for dinner on her birthday. I went to dinner at Sarah's pretty frequently- I couldn't see why this was any different. In the end, I decided I didn't want to upset Sarah by backing out. Even if, for some reason, John didn't seem to want me there.

We'd talked on the phone, but he'd made excuses about coming over, and I hadn't mentioned the dinner.

Neither had he.

In the end, as the day progressed, I decided I'd go. If necessary, I could say I had a headache and leave early.

I crossed the road with Sarah's present in hand, and rang her bell.

There were voices inside and extra cars in her driveway.

And it suddenly hit me.

The family.

There was laughter from the kids, running footsteps, and then the door opened.

John looked at me.

His expression was blank, unreadable, but all the same, I knew he didn't want me to be here. And I suddenly understood why.

"Hi." I said.

John said nothing. His jaw worked. If I knew what he looked like when he was afraid, that might have been the expression he was working so hard to keep off his face.

I killed the sudden flare of fear and doubt within me and drew a breath. It wasn't unreasonable for him to be afraid, to not want me here. I wasn't unreasonable for me to want to come to Sarah's birthday either, but I found I couldn't stomach the idea of purposefully putting John through it. "So, uh," I began, wondering even as I said it if this was the right thing to do. "Sarah invited me over, but I'm actually not feeling very well."

John looked surprised, puzzled.

"Can- can you give this to her? And promise her I'll make it up to her another time? Tell her I'm going to go home to bed. Get over this bug."

"Yeah." John said, giving me a look which made me melt. It was relief and gratitude and something warm and fierce that burned brightly. Maybe he could tell that it hadn't always been my intention to bail out like this.

I gave him the small parcel and we looked at each other for a moment.

I found myself grinning at him suddenly. It was a stupid grin. It was a tight, tense grin. "You could have told me. I would have understood."

John looked awkward again. "Right. Well, thanks." He sounded puzzled.

"I mean it." I added. "It's fine."

To my surprise I found that it wasn't as much of lie as I'd thought it would be. There was a small part of me that had freaked out a little with the realisation her extended family would be around. Sarah was a great friend, but dinner with her family was something I hadn't been prepared for. Certainly not when her brother and I were secretly dating. Or whatever it was.

And it had hardly been more than a few weeks. This was still so new, so precious. I didn't expect to meet his family yet, and I certainly didn't want to upset things now. I wanted to hold them carefully as they were, safe and close.

John nodded slowly. "Thanks." He said again, this time with more sincerity.

I desperately wanted to kiss him. "So, come over sometime. I'll be around." I told him instead.

Then he smiled back.

"See you soon." I said.

He nodded. "Yeah."

I walked home and felt a peculiar sensation of relief and satisfaction and terror.

Everything was alright.

I had no idea if the situation I'd headed off would have actually been that disastrous or not, but I told myself that merely having avoided it was good.

Everything was going to be fine.

. . .

Yeah.

Right.

_________

I answered the door quickly. John stood sheepishly in the shadows. It was late, and I suspected he'd waited until everyone had gone home before even contemplating coming over.

"Hi." I said and stood aside to let him in.

John waited for me to shut the door behind him, but only just. Then he pulled me into his arms.

Some of the sick fear I'd been nursing all evening vanished as I hooked my arms around his neck. He held me tight against him.

Relief started to win.

I reached up and kissed him, aware that we needed to talk, that there were things that needed to be said between us, things I was desperately afraid of saying.

John kissed me back.

I gripped his shirt and led him upstairs.

And neither of us said anything at all.



Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 05



*Sorry for the delay in posting this next chapter -- I had actually intended to skip straight past this in-between part of the story to the excitement ahead, but I had so many comments and messages from readers with ideas I liked so much that I that I decided to write in this extra chapter. I hope this adds to the story rather than taking anything away- even though it is a bit slow I got the impression that I needed to fill in more of their relationship. Massive thank yous to everyone who helped along the way!* Chapter 5:

June 2009:

Keith:

"I think I forgot to tell you last week." I said as John and I ate a late supper of peanut butter on toast. I was in pyjamas but John was going to be heading home so he'd put his clothes back on. It made me realise I had no idea what he even wore to bed at home. Which in turn made me very, very curious... "I'm going back to the city for a week for my sister's birthday."

"Yeah, I know." John said placidly. "Saw on your calendar."

"Oh, right." I said. "Well. If you wanted..." I began slowly. He didn't look up. I chickened out. "You probably can't get the time off." I finished instead.

"Not at the moment, no." He answered, still looking at his food and not at me.

Shouldn't have even hinted at it.

I nodded. "Anyway." I decided to keep talking as if I'd never said anything about it, as if that moment had never happened. "I'll probably head up on Monday and stay the week. Em's birthday's Wednesday and then she's been bugging me to meet this friend of hers who's in publishing, so I think she's arranged that too. And my mum will probably grill me for not having been home for so long and tie me to a chair to keep me home for a while... but anyway."

"When did you last see them?" John asked, finally glancing at me.

"Um. I saw them in late March at a family friend's party. I know. It's remiss of me, right? I mean, they only live a few hours' drive away, at the most, and I still haven't even gone to visit even once since I left the city..."

"Keith." John interrupted me and shot me a smile. "My parents live fifteen minutes drive away and I see them probably once a year."

"Oh." I said meekly. "Oh, I'm..." I forced myself to stop talking.

A smile quirked the edge of John's mouth. "I don't see my brothers much either." He said with a shrug. "Me and Sarah... we still speak to our brothers, and I think she'd like everyone to get along, but I can't see that happening."

"Why?" I found myself asking before I could stop myself. This was the first time he'd brought his family up at all.

John raised his eyebrows and leant back in his chair. "Because I find them offensive."

Wow. I didn't know what to say to that. Did I dare ask what he meant? Since he wasn't out, then I had a fair idea...

John was looking away.

"Gordon's going to run training while I'm away." I went on, just for something to say.

"Yeah." John said, suddenly giving me a suspicious look. "About that."

"What?" I asked. Did he want me to have asked him to run it? I'd just assumed he was more of an Aussie Rules or rugby sort of guy.

"You know Joel's underage, right?"

I stopped breathing for a moment. "Excuse me?" I stared at him, about to get up and maybe leave the room so I didn't hit him or yell...

Joel and I had started running in the mornings. I wasn't much of a runner anymore, but the town pool shut over winter and there was no gym so it had been my only choice. And I'd bumped into Joel down at the oval, and we'd been training together ever since his dad had given him permission to rejoin the team.

I had been there for that boy when his dad had freaked, I was happy to help him and not because I wanted him back on the team. I liked that boy. He was shy and self-effacing, but he had potential. And now John was going to question me over my intentions?

Then I noticed the smile he was trying to hide.

"You shit!" I told him.

John just laughed.

John:

My house was empty.

Strange that I'd never noticed before. I guess it had never mattered. Not when I always got home from work, cleaned up, changed, and headed over to Keith's. Not when I spent most of my free time over at his place.

Not that it mattered now, either... but I couldn't help comparing it to Keith's house. Keith's home.

There, there was life and activity and colour, always something cooking and Keith playing music or sitting writing or repainting the hallway.

It hit me hard, but it wasn't entirely unexpected.

It wasn't Keith's home I liked. It was him.

No wonder my house felt so empty.

I wandered into the kitchen and looked at my phone on the wall. I could call him.

No. I turned away and went back to the lounge room. I couldn't call him. Not when he hadn't even been gone overnight yet. I was not that needy person. I did not need to tell him anything or to speak to him and I certainly didn't need to hear his voice. This was all just rubbish.

My mobile beeped somewhere and I ran to find it and check... not Keith. And had I just run to check a text message on the chance it was him?

He was probably in the middle of a family dinner. He wasn't even thinking about me. He wasn't going to have a problem being away for a week and neither was I.

I glared at my phone. There was no reason to call him.

I did not need to call him.

I was not going to call him.

Keith:

My phone started ringing while we were having coffee. I snuck a look at the screen, quite prepared to ignore it.

John's name flashed up on the screen.

I stood up quickly. "I have to take this," I apologised to Em and mum and dad. "I'll be quick! Sorry..." I answered the phone but I didn't speak until I'd shut the door behind me.

"Hey, you." I said. I was grinning like an idiot.

"Hey." John replied, his voice soft.

"How was your day?"

"Pretty normal." He was smiling now, I could hear it. "No weepy drunks to contend with, anyway."

"Shut up." I told him with a laugh and flopped onto the couch. My knees were hooked over the arm and I lay looking at the ceiling.

"How was the drive? No trouble."

"It was fine. There are some freaking enormous trucks out there, though. I was afraid for my life at one point."

John laughed softly. "You take down their number plates? I'll check them out."

"I didn't even think of that!" I teased back.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" John asked after a moment of silence. There was a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

"No!" I said quickly. "We were just having coffee. Babe, you can call me anytime." I drew a breath, threw caution to the wind. "I was really glad you called."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I smiled to myself. I hadn't expected a call tonight. Maybe in a couple of days time, but not tonight.

"You've had a good day?"

"Yeah, just hanging out. I've been stealing recipes from mum and Em's pleased as punch to see me. We finished eating and were having coffees."

"So... do they know..." John stopped. He didn't need to finish. I knew what he was going to say.

"No. I can tell them it was someone in town who promised to read my draft."

There was a silence and I sighed. I hoped he didn't hear. What was the big deal, though? My family didn't know anyone in town, and I had an excuse ready for him. I bit my tongue and said nothing.

"Promise?" John finally asked.

"What?" Hadn't I just said I'd tell them that?

"Well, you wouldn't let me read it before."

"Oh." Oh. That was... unexpected... Not about my family knowing after all. Although he had asked the question... I didn't know what to think. I pushed my concern aside and tried to formulate an answer. "No, you can read it. You want to? Really? I mean, it's second rate, it really is. It still needs a lot of work."

"You've spent months on it. I'd love to." John sounded so serious, so warm. I smiled and shut my eyes.

"I miss you." I whispered.

A soft breath against the phone. I thought he was on the verge of his slow sexy laugh. "I miss you too." He answered, very softly. "When will you be home?"

"I don't know." I groaned and covered my eyes. "I mean..." I wanted to invite him up but I knew he wouldn't say yes, so I didn't ask at all. "Maybe Friday."

"Let me know when you're leaving, yeah?"

"Yeah. But I'll speak to you again before then."

"Yeah."

"So... I probably better go back in the kitchen." I murmured. I didn't want to hang up.

"Right. No, I realised when I called that you'd probably be busy."

"I can call you back later." I suggested.

John sighed. "Look. I'm probably just going to go to bed."

"Ok. Well, I'll speak to you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, you will." John sounded like he was smiling again.

I didn't know what to say next. "So I'll speak to you tomorrow." I ended up saying, inwardly kicking myself.

"You're repeating yourself now." John said lightly.

"Yeah, I know." I said gloomily and he laughed.

"Well. Enjoy your time with your family. Don't- don't hurry home too soon just because I called or whatever. Just..."

"I will." I promised quietly. "But call me whenever you want."

"Yeah." John agreed. He couldn't know how happy I was he'd called me, could he?

There was another short silence.

"What do you wear to bed?" I blurted out.

John laughed, sounding surprised. "Seriously?" He asked, then cleared his throat. "Mostly just what I wear in your bed. Nothing."

"Oh." I chewed on the tip of my finger.

"It's not like I'm going to stumble out to the kitchen in the morning and shock anyone." John added. I grinned. "Why do you ask?" He added, his tone more puzzled.

"Um. Just wondered." John laughed again. I think he sounded pleased.

I smiled for a minute. I really wanted to be home with him. I was only here for a few days, I reminded myself. And then I could go home and see John. And spend all weekend with him.

"Talk to you tomorrow then." John said.

I laughed. "Now you're repeating me."

"Ha ha." He said, but we both laughed and fell into another silence.

"Ok." I said. This was stupid. We were both grown men and we were sitting in a stalemate on the phone. I refused to do this. "Bye John."

"Bye Keith." He answered softly.

There was a moment of silence, then I hung up. And pressed the phone to my forehead. And smiled at the ceiling.

The lounge room door burst open.

"Was that him?" Emma asked, bouncing into the room. My little sister was a tall, athletic brunette with a big smile. We had the same eyes and same colour hair, and we got along really well too, given our similar personalities.

"What? Who?" I asked quickly, sitting up and wiping the smile off my face.

"Him. The one who isn't out yet. The one you were having dinner with. The one you never told me anything about after that like one email!"

"Oh." Right. I had emailed her about that, hadn't I... "Uh, yeah, that's him. He's going to read my manuscript. You know. Give me an objective opinion."

"Yeah, objective." She laughed, poking me. "Say you while you shag him every which way, you hypocrite."

"I'm not- it's not like that!" I objected quickly. My cheeks were already getting red. This conversation had not gone the way I'd expected. I really had not expected her to ambush me.

"You're having sex with him, aren't you? Mind blowing, toe curling, neighbourhood disturbing sex?"

"No!" I lied. Shit. I hadn't even thought about the neighbours...

"Yes, you are! You said so in your email!"

Not good. I had basically said that... I'd forgotten...

"Uh..." I blinked at her. I must have looked stupid.

Emma laughed. "You either totally lied and have just got a massive man crush on him, or you're gettin' some!" She finished with an obscene gesture and a voice mimicking some terrible accent she probably saw in a really bad movie. I sighed.

"Em," I said, rolling my eyes. Hopefully, if I could just avoid giving a direct answer...

She laughed and gave me a friendly punch. Which still hurt. It kind of sucked having a little sister who was just as tall and more muscular than I was.

"Tell me about him!" She demanded.

"Oh, who?" Mum said, coming into the lounge room. Dad turned around behind her and headed away from the lounge room. He was not interested in hearing about my 'man crush'. I didn't mind. He wouldn't have been interested in hearing about Em's either.

"This guy Keith likes."

"Guys..." I tried object, but then I stopped.

Had I really reached the point of lying for him? Ok. So even if we hadn't been together for that long I could tell them a bit, couldn't I? Who were they going to tell?

"Ok." I said. I suddenly grinned and pulled a cushion into my lap.

Mum and Em sat down opposite me, smiling, leaning forward.

I cleared my throat. I was suddenly not sure where to begin.

Emma solved that problem for me right away.

"So what's he like in bed?" She demanded gleefully. Mum looked slightly shocked and I couldn't help but wince.

Maybe I should have insisted he was just a crush, after all.

July 2009:

Keith:

I threw open the door before John had even rung the bell. "Look, it's here!" I told him and dragged him into the smallish room off the lounge.

I'd finally had my desk repaired. It was beautiful, dark wood with the green leather patch in the middle... There was probably an actual term for it, but whatever it was I had no idea. All I knew was that I liked it.

"Huh." John said slowly, looking at the bookshelves around the room. I hadn't really been using this room as anything more than storage, but I was in the middle of doing it up and he probably hadn't even seen it yet.

"It's going to be my office." I told him, perching on the edge of the desk. "I've decided that if I work from home that I should at least have a work space and try and separate work from home a bit more. I think I'll get more done."

"Huh." John said again, looking out the window. The view was a slightly different angle from the kitchen, and there was a massive wisteria growing outside. I couldn't wait for it to flower in spring.

John turned and leant against the window sill, his thumbs hooked into his pockets. "You know, you just need a fireplace with a dinky clock on the mantel and a typewriter now."

I laughed. "I somehow can't see myself installing a fireplace. But a typewriter would be cool! I'd really feel like a writer, then..."

"And a pipe." John added, nodding seriously.

I looked at him and he finally cracked a smile. "I thought you were serious for a moment!" I exclaimed, and he laughed.

"C'mere." He said, but he was the one who came forward and wrapped his arms around me. He looked at me, smiling, his eyes warm and full of something I desperately wanted to call love and didn't dare.

I was pretty sure I was in love with him. And there was absolutely nothing I wanted more than for him to love me too. And the look on his face... I was sure. He felt something. He had to.

"I wouldn't know how to use a typewriter." I said softly, sliding my hands up his chest to reach around his neck.

The moment ended abruptly.

John cleared his throat and let go of me, started examining the desk as if he was more interested in it than he had been a few moments ago.

I felt a cold shiver down my spine.

I had no idea what had just happened, but something had changed and I didn't know what or why.

"I'm going to start dinner." I told him, and left the room without waiting to see if he looked up.

It felt like he'd pushed me away. He hadn't, but it was as if he'd taken a huge step back, a huge step away from me.

I swallowed hard and began pulling things out of my cupboard. God, what was I doing? How could I be with him when I didn't even know what this was? How could I go on without ever knowing what exactly this was to him?

I heard him behind me but I didn't turn around. I didn't know what to say or how to say it.

"Can I help?" He asked quietly.

"No." My voice sounded brittle, even to me. I tried again. "No, it's fine. Nothing fancy."

"Sure?"

"Uh huh." I still hadn't looked at him and I didn't plan to until I'd got a grip on myself.

I fixed a pasta and sauce and although I was more than slightly tense at the thought of a meal with him right after that, it was actually ok. We stuck to small talk, which felt weird after so long, and neither of us mentioned what had happened at all.

John left after dinner.

I don't think either of us had expected he would stay.

John:

Walking into Jim's the next day, all I felt was relief that Keith was keeping his ritual of coffee and cake.

"Hey." I said, walking over to him. He looked up at me, his expression guarded and it was like a kick to the stomach.

"Hi." He answered carefully.

"You done?" I asked him. "Something I want to show you."

Keith looked slightly surprised, then nodded and shrugged and got up. I waited for him to pay, watched him chat with Jim for a moment, then he turned to follow me, a whipped dog sort of look in his eyes.

I hated that.

It hurt, and yet I felt like I kind of deserved it.

"You know the antique shop pretty well by now, I guess." I told him.

"Yeah." He agreed. It was only a few doors down and he followed me in.

"Hello, gentlemen." Rose greeted us with a smile that displayed as much gum as teeth.

"Rose." I said, smiling, and leant against the counter. "Now. Can I ask you to show Keith here that thing I asked you to put aside for me?"

Keith was looking interested, at least. That was a big step up.

"That makes so much more sense now, John. I couldn't figure out why you wanted me to hold it when your grandmother's is in much better condition!"

"My grandma's?" That was a surprise. I'd forgotten about that entirely. "I haven't seen that since I was a kid." How did Rose know about that anyway?

"Haven't you? Oh, Al's wife had it only a few years ago. Wanted me to value it. Wasn't happy with what I'd give her so took it home again."

"She tried to sell it to you?" I wondered if Al knew about that. He probably did. My eldest brother wouldn't know what a family treasure was if it jumped up and bit him on the nose.

"Yes. I dare say she'd let you have it. It's probably gathering dust somewhere. Such a pity. This one's not bad, not bad at all... but no one's cared for it like your grandmother cared for hers... But as I say, it makes much more sense, now I know it's not for you."

She offered us another large smile and vanished into the backroom. Keith looked at me with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

I couldn't help but grin. Rose reappeared with a large box which she set down on the counter.

"Here we are." She said, and opened it up.

The typewriter inside gleamed in the light.

Keith's mouth opened and he laughed, suddenly smiling at me. My heart got lighter by about ten pounds.

"Oh, wow." He said, reaching out to touch it. "Oh... Wow. It's... I don't even know what to do with one. I ..." I watched him hovering over it. He wanted it, I could tell. He just hadn't worked it out yet.

Rose smiled at him. "I dare say someone around here would be able to show you."

"Yeah. But I do have a laptop and I really... I really don't need it..."

I grinned at Rose and she smiled back.

"I'll leave you to have a look." She said kindly and retreated off to the back of the shop with her duster.

Keith was vacillating, still.

"Think about it." I told him. "Rose will hold it for you. It's been here a while now. You don't have to buy it. I just thought..."

He looked up at me with a sudden grin, a look shot through his lashes that carried heat, pleasure.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 05



"Thank you." He said softly, seriously.

I shrugged. It wasn't a big deal. But I still smiled.

Keith sighed and looked at it again, touching the keys and the sides. "It's really lovely." He said. It was. It was one of those ancient elegant looking ones. I didn't dare tell him my grandma's was nicer.

"Think on it." I told him firmly. "Thanks, Rose. Mind putting it away again while Keith makes up his mind?"

"Of course, love!" Rose called back.

I grinned at Keith and started leaving the shop.

"Hey, I like this." Keith said suddenly from behind me. I turned around and found him examining a green banker's lamp. "This would go with my desk!"

I looked at it. "They sell those down the street." I told him.

"Yeah, but this one's not some mass produced junky plastic thing. This is an old one. This is great!"

I had to hide a smile. Keith was like a kid in a candy shop. "Come on, you." I told him.

"But..." he looked at the lamp, looking really torn.

I sighed. To me, a lamp was a lamp. "Rose, hold the lamp too, would you?"

"Put it on the counter, love!" She called back.

Keith looked at me with a half smile as I shifted the lamp and shook his head, but this time he followed me out into the street.

We stood about a meter apart, just kind of eyeing each other off. Keith stuck his hands in his pockets, looked at me with my hands in mine, and quickly removed them again.

"See you after training tonight?" I asked him softly. And hoped I didn't sound stupid.

This time Keith really smiled. "Yeah. Anytime."

August 2009:

Keith:

John knew how to take care of a man. The thought ran through my head like a mantra as I sat in the bath, my back against his calves while his fingers massaged my scalp.

He was washing my hair and I loved every minute of it.

I loved Sundays full stop. They'd always been good days, but now, getting to spend the whole Sunday every Sunday with John was just idyllic. My favourite part of the week. He'd kept up his ritual of breaking in (although he did have a key now, and 'breaking in' just consisted of unlocking the back door) and making breakfast, and then we tended to just chat or watch movies or hang out. And I cooked dinner and then just to top it off, as if things weren't idyllic enough, there was lots of sex, too.

"So you're not going for as long, this time?" John asked. I had been back to the city twice since Em's birthday, and the second trip had ended up turning into two weeks since I'd had to make a couple of trips back to see Em's friend. The one in publishing. The one who had got me an agent. I still grinned just thinking about it.

"No. Just a few days." I said sleepily. "No publishers this time. Just family."

"And you're going to call me again to let me know when you'll be home? Promise?"

"Mm hm. Promise." I agreed. He could have asked for pretty much anything in that moment.

"Good." He said. I smiled and looked at him over my shoulder.

"You're wearing too many clothes." I told him. "Why don't you join me?"

John grinned and shucked his boxers and his shirt.

Didn't have to ask him twice.

John:

It was Friday afternoon and I was out of the office early.

Keith was coming home, and my plan was to go to his place and have dinner ready for when he walked in the door. Even though I'd expected to miss him, I'd only expected to have to miss him for a few days. Not ten.

I went to the supermarket to pick up a few things. So maybe I couldn't cook like Keith could, but I could hold my own.

I was looking at the meat and wondering whether to go all out and try something like a roast, or just buy lamb chops or chicken kievs and make salad or something when my phone rang.

"Hi Sarah." I answered.

"You're not at work?"

"No. Just doing the grocery shopping."

"Ok. Well I was just ringing to see if you thought it would be alright for me to invite Keith and his friend to dinner."

"What?" I asked, slightly puzzled.

"He's just got home from the city and-"

"Wait, he's back?" But he'd been going to call me first... damn. My plans for dinner were all ruined. Although I guessed I could still go over and cook for him; it was just the surprise element that was gone.

"Yes, he just got in with his friend and I wondered if you thought it would be alright if I invited them around. Do you think that would be awkward?"

"What friend?" I asked, her words suddenly registering and I was no longer thinking about dinner at all.

"I don't know who he is, but he's a he. Obviously. I think he's gay. You know. Just from looking out the window. Do you think they might be- you know? John, that would be so great for him after what happened before!"

I blinked at the trays of meat in front of me and found I'd lost my voice.

"So do you think that would be ok?"

"Well... yeah." I swallowed hard. Shit. I couldn't exactly say 'no'.

 "Great. I'll ring him now. You'll come too? Tomorrow night?"

"Sure." I answered heavily. If Keith had a visitor then I doubted I'd be heading to his place. Which left me with my evenings very, very free again all of a sudden.

I didn't like it one bit.

Sarah rang me back moments later. "Ok, so Keith's going to have a barbecue tomorrow, so no dinner."

"Ok." I answered. I was still standing frozen in the meat section.

"And his friend's name is Zack. I asked him if they were together but he didn't answer, so I'm going to have to watch them carefully tomorrow! And Keith invited you, too, so one o'clock at Keith's, ok?"

"Ok." I responded slowly. He hadn't answered? That was... odd...

Sarah laughed. "Don't be too enthusiastic. Pick up some beer or something?"

"Yeah, sure." I agreed reluctantly. "I'll see you there."

I arrived at one on Saturday, like Sarah had said, but it seemed like everyone else had arrived earlier.

It was Gordon that answered the door, not Keith. I carried the beer through to the back veranda and set to putting the cans in the esky filled with ice and water. Chris was already lighting up the barbecue and the soccer kids were already ruining Keith's garden with a couple of balls.

I said hello to a couple of people and then headed inside.

Keith was in the kitchen with a man who looked younger than us. I'd never seen him before, so I felt pretty safe in guessing he was the friend from the city. They were standing by the table with vegetables, salad, rolls and butter in front of them, but they weren't buttering bread or making salad when I walked in.

"Hi, John." Keith said brightly, but he hastily removed his hand from his 'friend's' back.

"Hi." I said. Strangely I didn't feel angry. A leaden weight had settled in my stomach, sure, but no anger. I wasn't sure I could blame Keith if he decided that I wasn't good for him.

"John, this is Zack. We used to work together." His tone was too chirpy. Far too chirpy, compared to the low tone he'd been using before I'd come in.

"Hi." Zack said softly. He seemed shyer than I'd expected he would be, just from knowing Keith. He had curly brown hair cropped short and was of a smallish build.

"Nice to meet you." I said politely. Keith was giving me a look. Shit. What was that look? 'Please forgive me'?

"John!" Sarah suddenly appeared and grabbed my arm. She shot a wink at Keith and Zack. "John, come help me. You two keep out of mischief." She told Keith and Zack, both of whom looked slightly awkward, and dragged me out of the room.

"Give them space!" She hissed at me as she dragged me back outside. "God, John! You idiot!"

"What?" I demanded. All I'd done was say hi.

"They obviously really like each other and I'm just trying to give them some space. They don't need people intruding-"

"Sarah." I interrupted. "Did he or didn't he stay the night last night? And didn't Keith ask people around for this? Because I'm pretty sure he didn't have to."

"Oh." Sarah sounded crestfallen. "I just... I really want something good for Keith, you know? He's so lovely and he must be lonely here on his own. Wouldn't it be nice...?"

"Sarah." I said firmly. "Stop trying to set people up. If they're going to be together, then it will happen in its own sweet time."

Sarah frowned at me but I ignored her and went towards the barbecue down the other end of the porch. I chatted to Gordon and Chris, chanced a look through the kitchen window.

My blood ran cold.

Keith and Zach were cuddling. Fucking cuddling.

Well, fuck.

I marched back inside. This was not going to work.

As I passed through the kitchen Zack looked up at me with a sort of surprised expression and hastily left the room. Was it me, or did he look very red?

"John, I'm really sorry." Keith said in a hushed tone. He looked pink and really worried. Worried I'd yell at him? Worried I'd make a scene? Worried I'd tell Zack? What the hell did he have to be worried about?

"It's fine." I said woodenly. Now I was starting to feel angry. A shaky sort of hurt fuelled rage.

"Hello, Keith!" A voice interrupted and a couple of women from the cooking group came in bearing containers of lamingtons and cupcakes and slices. Keith had good connections, obviously.

"Hi!" Keith said, looking slightly panicked. "One sec- wait, John-"

"I'll speak to you later." I said. This was not the time or the place. I couldn't keep the harsh note out of my voice.

I left the room and wandered towards the front door.

It felt too early to leave, but I was not going to have a good time and I couldn't see any point in staying.

I let myself out the front door and headed down the steps.

Zack was on the phone on the veranda but I ignored him and kept walking. He was saying something about Keith and I did not want to hear a single word he said.

-----------------------

Two days passed. I went to work, heard from Sarah all about how she'd seen Keith and Zack in town and at Jim's together and tried to act like this was just another conversation and then generally tried to distract myself from the thought of them.   

It wasn't working.

Keith was home with another man. A man who wasn't me. And I had no idea what the hell to do about it.

It was late at night on the second day when my doorbell rang.

I went to answer the door and found Keith on my step. I couldn't believe he'd had the guts to show himself.

"John," He said. He looked really worried.

I looked back at him flatly.

"I'm really sorry I didn't call..." he went on.

Shit. We were not doing this on my front step. I beckoned him inside and shut the door.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," Keith went on. "But this whole thing with Zack was a bit of a shock, it was so sudden and I just didn't have the opportunity to call..."

"Right." I said vaguely, trying to think of something to say. All at once I wanted to yell at him and punch the wall and to pull him into my arms and just hold him and demand to know what the fuck he thought he was doing... and instead I found myself stuck in the middle, frozen.



"I'm sorry, I meant to warn you on Friday morning, but I couldn't get a moment and then by the time we were driving I'd run out of batteries and it just happened so fast..." Keith was looking at me warily, as if he didn't quite know how I was going to react.

"So that makes it ok?" I spat the words out.

"What?" Keith sounded mystified.

"After what Graeme did to you. Didn't think you'd be one to do the same." His mouth opened and shut again. Then he carefully cleared his throat. "It's the last thing I expected from you." I finished coldly. I couldn't believe this had happened. I'd never expected to feel angry at Keith before, and I was just about angrier than I'd ever been that I could ever remember.

"John." He said slowly, warningly. His eyebrows had risen. "Zack is just a friend."

"Who you were hugging in public. Who's staying over at your house." I ground out.

Keith's face darkened. "Are you not listening to me? He's a friend. His boyfriend just left him for some barely legal model and he's not coping so I brought him here because I kind of understand what he's going through. That's why I stayed so long in the city and why I didn't get a chance to call, because he's such a mess. And you're going to accuse me of cheating on you?"

I drew a breath slowly, my teeth clenched tight. A long moment passed.

"And you know what the solution is, don't you?" Keith went on. He didn't sound angry any more. He sounded unsteady. I didn't know how to fight unsteady. "Ask me out, John. Hug me in public. Stay the night. Give me some sort of sign..."

He stopped and looked at my feet.

My heart was sinking. Fast. Shit. Shit shit shit. Wrong. Totally wrong, John. Idiot. I needed to apologise, but I was still feeling far too jealous, far too angry and rattled and far too stupid to say anything.

"I'm driving Zack home on Monday." Keith said softly. His voice wavered just a bit. "That should give you some time to figure out what the hell it is that you want."

He turned, opened the door and vanished outside in a flash.

I didn't go after him.

--------------

I saw them again during the week.

They were in Jim's when I walked past. Keith had an arm around Zack, but this time I could see that Zack was in tears.

I hated the fact that I couldn't go in there and sit with Keith like I normally did. Hated the fact that Keith was angry at me.

And I hated the fact that if I did go in there Keith would probably smile and be happy to see me, would introduce me to Zack and be happy to do it.

I hated the fact that I really had no reason to be this jealous or angry when Keith was the one that was in the right.

But most of all I hated the fact that I just couldn't make myself go in there.

Keith:

I saw John walked past Jim's, and I wanted to bang on the glass and make him come in. Unfortunately Zack had just broken down again and it wasn't the time.

"God," Zack said, wiping his eyes. "I feel like such an idiot. How did I not see this?"

I squeezed his hand. "We're blind about the people we love." He looked away. I didn't think he believed me. I sighed. "You know... I felt the same, after Graeme and I..."

"Why?" Zack asked sharply. "What happened with that, anyway? One week you're there and the next the phone number's been changed and no one sees you again for months and Sal saw Graeme in the street and he pretended not to know her..."

"Grae left me."

"What? You never said!" Zack accused. Just like the rest of my friends would.

"No. Because... I felt like an idiot, just like you said. Because I couldn't believe he'd do it. But he did."

"We all... we all thought it must have been- I don't know, mutual, I guess."

"I had no idea, Zack. He cheated on me, left me and now he's married."

Zack's mouth fell open and I had to laugh at his expression. Graeme hadn't moved in the same circles of friends that I had. All the same, I'd thought most of them would know by now. Apparently not.

"How can you laugh?" He demanded. "Are you not just devastated?"

"I was." I said slowly, "but not so much anymore. Things get better, Zack. Pricks like that don't deserve people like us anyway."

"Is that because of that guy who walked past?" Zack asked. Apparently he'd ignored the last part of my sentence.

I nearly choked on my coffee. "What? Who?"

"That guy you followed with your eyes." Zack gave me a solemn look. "Blonde-ish. Tall. Just your type, Keith." I couldn't lie to him. Not good.

"He's... We've been seeing each other. Secretly."

"What?" Zack sounded confused.

"He's not out yet."

"What the hell?" Zack said far too loudly, staring at me with wide eyes and leaning forward. "Keith, honey..."

"Zack. You don't have to tell me it wasn't a good idea." I spoke quietly, trying to give him the hint to keep it down a little. People had looked around when he'd first raised his voice and John would probably die if the town found out like this. And after that he'd probably never speak to me again.

"Wasn't?" Oh, he was too quick.

"We fought. Not really. Something along those lines. It was nothing. And it's not over, we just... we really just need to talk."

"Honey, you can't do this to yourself." His voice had dropped but his eyes had lit up like he'd just won the lottery, like he'd just heard the juiciest news ever.

"I'm not doing anything to myself. Most of the time, it doesn't even feel like we're hiding. It just feels normal."

"Are you hearing what you're saying?" Zack said dryly.

Shouldn't have said anything. Had to explain. How? "I know how it sounds -- but every time I start to have doubts... he does something or says something... and I just... I just have to give him a chance, you know?"

"You are so not thinking with your head." Zack's tone was amused and concerned all at once.

I didn't answer. I seemed to just be making things worse when I tried to explain. I couldn't very well tell Zack that I was in love with John though. Not when I hadn't told John.

He sighed and smiled at me over the rim of his cup. "Does he at the very least know how lucky he is?"

I shrugged. "Well. He was jealous that I brought someone back from the city with me, so... that's good. I mean, if he's jealous that means he cares, right?"

Zack shot me a look that was far more his old self than I'd seen him for days. There was colour in his cheeks and a wicked gleam in his eye. It made me glad to have told him.

Not for long.

"Honey," he said, shaking his head at me with a massive knowing smirk. "You got it bad."

Keith:

I slowly made my way to answer the door. I had only half expected to have anyone arrive.

My head throbbed so hard I felt like it was going to pop and my throat was on fire. I hadn't felt this bad in forever. The slight headache of two days ago had suddenly just exploded this morning and a whole host of other symptoms had sprung into being. I'd let Zack borrow my car to get home, in the end, since I was not going anywhere. Apart from back to bed.

"Keith." John said softly. He was dressed really nicely. I couldn't remember ever seeing him dressed up like this before.

"Hi." I answered, letting him in. I was so relieved he was here. Even if things didn't happen the way I wanted them to... he was here. And we could talk. I'd been so afraid he just wouldn't come at all.

"You're sick." John said, immediately putting his hand on my forehead. He sounded surprised. I guess I looked sicker than I'd thought.

"Yeah." I agreed. My voice was rough and I was feeling really really hot all of a sudden.

I went to hug John, but he stepped away, frowning at me.

I blinked. I was sick, sure, but he didn't have to back away like that.

The first thing that came to mind was that maybe he wasn't here to apologise at all. I felt cold all over, and it wasn't from the flu. I looked away.

"You should be in bed." He said sternly.

Relief. I forced myself to breathe again.

"If you come with me." I grumbled. My back and neck hurt and I was afraid this was going to turn into the mother of all flu's before I got any better.

He looked slightly amused, but not enough to smile. "Bed." He repeated.

"Bed's boring." I grouched. My eyes stung. I just wanted him to hug me.

He sighed. "What have you been doing today?" I was in some blue pyjamas and an old dressing gown and socks. I certainly hadn't been out anywhere.

"Watching tv. Sleeping." I shrugged.

"Alright." John said. "Couch, then." I nodded and he steered me into the lounge room. It was fairly easy to tell where I'd been. There were rugs and another jumper on my couch and empty glasses and bowls on the table from where I'd been too tired to clean up, a couple of books I hadn't been able to concentrate on dumped on the floor. "What a mess." He said, giving me a surprised look. "That's not like you."




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 05



I grumbled at him; it wasn't that bad. Hopefully he thought my eyes were just watering. John waited for me to get back on the couch and then bundled me up in the rugs.

"Are you too hot?" he asked. "Too cold?"

"No. I'm ok." I insisted.

"Right." He said, and began taking all the dishes away. "Do you want to read a book? Or just doze off? Is there anything on tv...?"

I shrugged, and he went to the shelves and found a dvd. He showed me which one it was with a wicked smile.

"This will give you something to think about. Other than being sick." He told me. It was the dvd we'd sort of watched that first Sunday. The one we really didn't watch at all.

"John." I said softly. "We... we need to talk."

John let his hand holding the dvd drop to his side. "I'm sorry." He said quickly.

I held my breath, waiting for more, surreptitiously trying to wipe my eyes.

"John..." I started. I felt weak and ridiculously teary. Maybe this wasn't the time to talk about it, but I needed to know.

"I was going to come over and make dinner, that night." He said, looking at the dvd. "I guess that's part of why I was so pissed off. But... I shouldn't have... assumed. Not when we..."

"What, John?" I asked. My voice sounded small in the silence. Please, I begged inwardly. We what?

John cleared his throat. "Anyway. Since I can't take you out to dinner, then... I guess I'll have to cook you something instead." He gestured wryly at his clothes and I found myself smiling, tears filling my eyes.

"You were...?"

John nodded, looking rueful.

I wiped my eyes again, looking away. Next thing I knew, John was on his knees next to the couch, wrapping his arms around me.

I hugged him tight. I'd have tried to breathe him in, but my nose wasn't working and I just leaked tears on him instead. I hated being sick. I always turned into a massive cry-baby.

"You ok?" John asked, rubbing my shoulders.

I nodded, pulling away. He leant forward and kissed my cheek.

"I'll make you something to eat." He said, getting up. "Any preferences?"

I shook my head and he smiled, tucked me back in, put the dvd on and retreated to the kitchen.

I'd never seen John cook on his own before, but I was so sick that it didn't even hit me until a few minutes later when he came back in. I thought he might be going to ask me something about cooking, but instead he set a steaming mug down on the table.

"Honey and lemon." He told me. My mouth watered in response.

"Thanks." I told him. John smiled, then bent over and kissed my forehead.

Dammit. I just wanted to be well enough that he could kiss me properly.

The honey and lemon tea was wonderfully sweet and sharp, hot enough that my body's thermostat freaked out and I got really hot again. I threw off all the blankets and kept staring at the tv. I wasn't really absorbing much of the show. Again. Never mind.

This time I wasn't dozing off or too sick to take anything in. I was thinking about seeing John at my door, all dressed up. God, if I hadn't been sick... I wondered where we'd have gone. What the evening would have been like. It would have been perfect.

I'd dozed off to unlikely fantasies of slow dancing with John (I suspected he wasn't a dancer) in some really ritzy restaurant (which didn't exist in a town like this), so I was only half aware that I was shivering until John started tucking me in again. Then I woke up with a start.

"Hey." He said gently.

"Hey babe." I said, smiling. My head was killing me.

"Have you taken any aspirin? Anything?"

"Mm. This morning."

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Mm." I wasn't sure. Although something did smell really good...

John headed for the kitchen, came back with two steaming bowls, a glass of water and some aspirin on a tray.

"Chicken noodle soup." He told me. I sat up and pulled the rugs closer.

"Really?" I asked. "People actually eat that?" He looked kind of surprised and crestfallen, and I belatedly realised how that had sounded. "I mean, I didn't know people actually made it." I went on, kicking myself and hoping he blamed my comment on being sick. "I've only ever seen it in the movies."

John chuckled and passed me a bowl, settled on the other half of the couch. "Here." He said. "It's not as good as Sarah's. Anyway."

"I didn't know you could cook." I told him. He raised his eyebrows.

"I cook." He said. "Not like you can. Not cakes or anything fancy. But I can cook. I've been living alone for the last ten years or so. You'd hope I could cook by now."

"Cool." I said. I sounded like an idiot.

And he'd been living alone for so long. It made my heart hurt; even though he wasn't giving off signs of being lonely, ten years was a long time.

I turned my attention to the soup. It smelt good. The first spoonful was even better. Salty and savoury and fabulous.

"Mmm!" I looked at John, nodding. He grinned at me over his bowl.

"See?" He said archly.

The soup did make me feel better. It made me sleepy too.

I took the aspirin and John told me to go and have a shower and took the bowls back to the kitchen. I took his advice. I didn't feel like moving, but I knew the hot water would make me feel better. At least for a little while.

When I came out, dressed in fresh pyjamas and a jumper, John was on my couch. He lay with one leg along the back of it and had the other foot on the floor, patted the space between his legs. I didn't need any more encouragement than that to curl up against him and settle against his chest. If he didn't care about getting his good shirt and pants all creased then neither did I. John pulled the blankets over us and kissed my cheek again.

I think I must have dozed off after that.

I had vague memories of strong arms and the staircase, slightly stronger ones of my freezing bed and John crawling in with me, wrapping himself around me until I stopped shivering.

In the morning I woke up alone. That wasn't unusual, and I was getting better at not freaking out about it.

But this time there were now-cool hot water bottles in bed with me. And these were not the sheets I'd woken up with yesterday...

The sheets and my old pyjamas were in the washing machine, ready to be hung out.

I couldn't be bothered so I left them there and went to make myself a coffee instead. And I sat at the table smiling like an idiot for far too long despite the throbbing of my head and painful throat.

I was so far in love with him it wasn't even funny anymore.

I called John at lunchtime.

"What are you doing?" he sounded surprised, indignant.

What? "Um, nothing..."

"I mean calling me!"

"Oh..." I swallowed and winced. I'd called him before and it was never a problem. And even if we hadn't done much of a good job of actually talking the last night, I'd thought things had been looking up...

"Keith, you're sick. You're supposed to be taking care of yourself, not chatting and making your throat worse!"

Oh. This was the thing with seeing John in secret. I never knew quite what was coming. "I haven't been chatting!" I objected. "And it's fine! I just wanted to call and say thanks..."

There was a short silence. "Alright." He sounded amused again and my heart melted. "I'll let you off the hook this time."

I smiled.

"Do you actually feel any better?" he asked idly.

"Mm, no." I peeked in the fridge and felt a rush of warmth at the containers of soup all neatly stacked on the shelf. "But I am well stocked with soup."

John chuckled. "I'll make you more tonight, if you want." He offered.

"That's ok." I said quietly. I knew he'd had a night out planned with some of his friends and colleagues. I'd made him write it on my calendar. Apparently they were being pretty insistent since he wasn't hanging out with them much anymore. "It's your night out, it's fine. I'm just going to sleep anyway."

"Keith... are you sure?" He asked very softly after a long silence.

"Yes." I said firmly, closing my eyes. "I'm sure. Go and have fun. You're free tomorrow night, though, right?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Really. I'm just going to be sleeping. And maybe I'll feel better tomorrow night."

"Ok." John said dubiously. "Well. I'll see you later then."

We hung up and I leant against the fridge.

Stupid boys nights.

Couldn't I have just told him I wanted him to come over? I smacked the phone against my forehead. I didn't want to be needy. I wanted to be strong and calm, but I wasn't, and being sick just amplified everything.

I wanted John.

The day was a waste. I hated being sick. I couldn't concentrate on reading, I couldn't write, didn't feel like cooking, couldn't sleep, so I ended up watching hours of mind numbing tv and trying unsuccessfully to sleep.

And then the doorbell rang.

I got up and shuffled over to it with a sigh.

"John, what-?"

He pushed past me into the house and shut the door behind him, put down a couple of bags of groceries on the floor.

"You didn't really think I was going to go out while you were here sick, did you?" He asked me with a dark look, reaching his arms around me.

"Um..." I blinked up at him and found my eyes suddenly filling with tears. John's stern expression evaporated and he pulled me against him, rubbing my shoulders.

I held him tight and buried my face against him. He could probably feel my tears soaking through his shirt.

"It's ok." He murmured, kissing the side of my head.

"Thank you." I whispered against his neck, feeling ridiculously grateful and suddenly very very small.

"Anytime." John murmured into my hair, and we stood there hugging until I started to shiver again.

At which point he carried me back to the couch, curled up with me in his arms and tucked me in.

And when I fell asleep, he carried me up to bed.

September 2009:

Keith:

"Got you something." John said, putting down a rather large box on the kitchen table.

I put down my cup slowly and blinked at him.

"Um. My birthday's not-" I began to remind him.

"I know." He said, looking very pleased with himself. "Just wanted to give this to you now."

I flipped the lid of the box open and then stared in surprise.

I looked at the typewriter in the box for a long moment.

It had been ages since we'd looked at the typewriter in the antique shop. I hadn't even mentioned it, even I if I still did want it... and John had gone back to get it for me?

"John... it's..."

"Not the one from the antique shop." John said with a smirk.

I gaped at it.

The initial rush of warmth I'd felt upon seeing it faded and I stared at it. I couldn't accept it. Not when it was a family heirloom and we were only together in secret.

"You like it?" John asked. I swallowed hard and nodded.

"It's beautiful." I said. "Thank you. I can't... thank you enough. But I can't. John. It's your family's."

But things were so perfect. And ok, so every now and again I had doubts, or something would make me uneasy... but then John always ended up doing something like this or saying something and I just fell in love with him even more.

John frowned at me. "None of them care about it. I'd rather you had it."

I looked at it again. I wavered. If he was giving me an heirloom... he was serious, wasn't he? He had to be... He was giving me something of his family, something of himself... I smiled at him.

"Hell, my grandma would prefer that you had it. Come on." John said smiling at me, a glint in his eye. "Let's see how it will look in your office."

How could I refuse? He took my hand and pulled me after him.

"Wait- don't we need to bring it with us, then?" I asked. By that time we were already at the office door.

John pushed me gently so I entered the room, blinked, then turned to face him with a dark look. John had the biggest grin on his face ever.

The green lamp was on my desk.

"When did you-"

"You were still sleeping." He said. "You obviously haven't done any work in your office today."

"Maybe I shouldn't have given you that key." I growled. John laughed.

"You like me making breakfast on Sundays too much." He teased, then his expression became more serious. "Keith." He said, raising his eyebrows. "Don't think about it too much. Just enjoy it, alright?"

What did that mean? It sounded awfully close to 'enjoy it while it lasts'...

But John was smiling at me, putting his arms around me... and this felt like forever.

Maybe I was reading too much into things. Maybe I did need to just relax and go with the flow and just let things happen however they would. Maybe I just needed to trust that everything would be ok. It certainly felt like it would be.

I smiled back at him and kissed his lips softly.

"Thank you." I said firmly.

"You're welcome." John said softly and kissed me back.

We held each other for a moment, and this time I was the one who pulled away.

"Wait here." I told him, and then ran back to the kitchen.

He was perched on the edge of my desk looking out over the garden when I came back, bottle of wine and two glasses in hand.

"Who's selling you alcohol?" he asked dryly. I'd brought it back from the city with me. Although maybe he hadn't noticed that there'd been wine at the barbecue, given his fast exit.

"Ha ha!" I faked a laugh, and then we both grinned at each other stupidly.

And suddenly things felt utterly normal again.

We drank wine leaning against my desk. At the end of only one glass I was feeling giddy, probably more with happiness, with hope, than with the alcohol.

I looked at John the same moment he looked at me. I put my glass down, my mouth growing dry, and turned back to kiss him. John's hands found my hips, his thumbs brushing slow circles across my skin.

We just sort of brushed our lips together for a moment, our noses grazing, and the moment felt so tender that I could happily have lived it forever.

Except that leaning against the planes of John's chest made me hungrier for a lot more than soft kisses. I pressed closer, shifting one of my legs between his, and pulling him into a deeper, harder kiss. John's hands tightened on my waist.

His shirt was smooth under my fingers as I slid them down his chest and belly to the waistband of his jeans. His skin was wonderfully warm to the touch.

John's breathing hitched as I unfastened his pants, and he groaned softly as I rubbed my fingers over his cock.

"Babe," he murmured near my ear. A warm shiver slid through me and I smiled at him, slid down to kneel in front of him.

I tongued the head of his cock for a moment before slipping it into my mouth. He tasted so good, smelt so warm and musky and delicious that my head felt light. It had only been a couple of weeks, what with going to the city, and the drama with Zack and then being so sick... so I say only, but it felt like forever.

"Keith," John murmured above me. I increased suction, pulled his pants down over his hips, freed his balls.

I bobbed up and down for a few moments, enjoying John's soft low noises, the feel of him in my mouth. I let him plop back out of my mouth and licked the underside of his cock, down to his balls and up again. I loved the feel of his sac in my palm.

"Keith..." John whispered, suddenly pulling me away. "Babe," he murmured, kissing me and plundering my mouth.

I grinned as he kissed his way down my neck, pulled my shirt off over my head. He licked my nipples briefly in passing, left them cold and hard as he continued down my body. I leant back against the desk, let him unfasten my jeans and pull them down over my hips. He didn't leave them there, like I had his, but pulled them down to my ankles and got me to lift one leg at a time so he could undress me totally.

John smiled at up me from his position on his knees, that twinkle in his eye. There was something so warm about him. Maybe it was just that I loved him so much.

He leant forward, licking the underside of my cock. I groaned. At first when we'd been together I'd thought he was reciprocating just to prove that despite being closeted he was really gay, but it had become apparent that he enjoyed this. Probably not as much as I loved his cock, but he really liked it all the same.

I slipped my fingers into his hair as he sucked one of my balls into his mouth, pulling down and making me whimper. He knew exactly where to stop, returned to licking my dick with long, slow swipes of his tongue.

"Please," I found myself whispering. God, I needed this so bad. "It's been weeks and I've been wanting so much- John. John..." He finally sucked the head into his mouth and I leant further back, watching him take me deeper, pleasure tingling through my body, from my toes to my scalp. I tried to breathe normally, tried to slow my reactions, but it wasn't working. I was burning up, heading rapidly towards climax and that just wouldn't do. Not yet.

I pushed John off me, dropped down in front of him and kissed him. His tongue was slick and sinfully talented against my own. It was increasingly hard for me to imagine that he'd never kissed another man before me. His arms wrapped around my waist and hitched me closer against him, made me want to abandon my plans of drawing things out... I had to unwind his arms from around me before I could get up.

"One sec," I said hastily, bolting out of the office and up to my bedroom. I grabbed condoms and lube and raced back again. My cock bobbed ridiculously in front of me, pointing the way back to him. John hadn't wasted the time I'd been gone. He was naked and waiting for me.

He reached his out to me but pulled my shift swiftly over my head instead of taking me into his arms.

"Bend over, babe," John murmured, divesting me of the box and the bottle. I leant forward over the desk, the wood and leather cool against my chest, trying not to gasp for air.

John's fingers were lightly scraping up the backs of my thighs, smoothing my cheeks but barely parting them.

"You're so hot for this," John teased on a breath. "Look at you waiting."

"John, don't tease me!" I groaned. "I've been waiting for weeks..." He laughed softly and I smiled to myself as his thumbs finally moved deeper between my cheeks, spreading me.

John's fingers teased lightly, and I smiled wider as I felt him kiss the skin of my leg. He had moved his mouth lower than my balls a couple of times before, but I'd had the feeling it wasn't something he'd done much before, if at all. I loved it when he did.

His mouth moved to the softer flesh inside my thigh, moved higher. "John... please, please," I whispered, sliding my hands to the edges of the desk and curling my fingers over them.

John laughed softly and the noise of it just made me want him more. I felt his lips kissing my butt cheek, moving closer to my crack. Moving...

There was a long moment where I waited, feeling taut and electric... and then the sensation of his tongue...

I moaned, tried to shift back against him as he teased me lightly. His tongue was slick and hot, danced fleetingly over my skin, but I needed more.

John pulled back and laughed softly and I groaned.

"John," I pleaded and he laughed softly and began to gently bite my cheek. "John!" I objected urgently. He made a deep noise in his chest behind me and I gasped for breath as his tongue returned to my hole. He pushed his tongue against me, tried to push it inside me. I clung to the desk, moaned helplessly as he began to stroke my cock.

I didn't want to wait anymore. I stood up and John's hands slid up my belly and stroked my chest, his erection nudged into my crack. I turned my head and drew him into a kiss over my shoulder.

"Want to ride you," I murmured against his neck, a shiver running through my body.

"Yes," John agreed softly, his hands tightening on me. He went to move away but I pulled him back.

"Here." I whispered. "On the desk."




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 06



"So it's my birthday next week." I began. I knew John knew. Not only since I was the type of person that highlighted my birthday on my own calendar (and maybe even circled it); we'd mentioned it too. But I wanted to mention it again all the same. I slid my foot down his leg under the table.

"Yeah." John agreed, giving me an amused look. I had to grin back. Something about this man I loved made me absolutely silly. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Well," I began slowly. I wanted to approach this carefully. The first time I'd suggested going out John hadn't said anything approximating a 'no'. The only indication I'd had that he didn't want to be seen with me was that he'd booked a restaurant three towns away. And he'd probably had a story ready in the back of his mind as well. Just in case, of course.

I'd said nothing at the time, but it was past five months now, which meant it was nearly six months, and I was beginning to feel like it was time for John to start getting serious about this. I was starting to feel impatient.

The first two months we'd been 'seeing' each other there had been little involved beyond sex, and lots of it. And it had been damn good. Things were starting to change now, though. Not that I didn't still want to jump him every opportunity -- I did -- but it was more. I'd figured out pretty quick that I'd fallen for him, and hard.

I was desperately hoping that he felt the same. We knew each other a whole lot better now and things just kept getting better. And it felt deeper. More real, all the time.

And yet I had the impression that John would still balk if I took a stand and said that I wanted more, so I hadn't said anything. Instead I was coming up with stupid schemes, to try to get him used to the idea, to ease him into it. I'd tried the last month or so. We'd gone out more. In other towns, of course, but it was still a step along the way. An introduction to the idea of possibly being seen.

The truth was that despite getting impatient, I didn't know what to do about it.

I suppose I could have just asked him about it, but I was so in love with him that I was too afraid of pushing him away from me in the slightest. Too afraid of losing him.

Love hadn't just made me happy-stupid. It had made me scared and desperate enough to compromise what I wanted and myself and my standards, all over again.

I slid my toes along the seam of his jeans, up past his knee and along his inner thigh.

John watched me with a smile and heavy lidded eyes. I stifled a grin. This never got old.

"I was thinking," I began, then squeaked as he snapped his knees together, trapping my foot. He laughed and reached under the table to grab my foot and I kept struggling. "No- don't!" I objected- I just knew he was going to tickle me.

"You asked for it," John told me, grinning. One hand held my ankle firmly and he tickled the sole of my foot.

"Stop it! John! No-" was all I managed to get out before I cracked up laughing. I tried to twist my foot away, but he had a good grip on my ankle and it only made things worse. Neither did gripping the edge of the table for leverage and trying to haul my leg back help.

I tried the twisting manoeuvre again, and yelped as I fell out of my chair and onto the floor.

John laughed and the next thing I knew he was leaning over me, under the table as well, pinning me down and tickling me until I could hardly breathe, let alone scream or fight back.

It was only once he'd reduced me to a quivering mass of giggles that he decided that was enough. Then he just lay next to me on his side, watching me with a goofy grin.

Once I finally got a hold of myself I grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him down to kiss me.

John was more than happy to oblige.

So it was that on a Thursday evening we were lying wrapped up around each other under my kitchen table, kissing lightly, like there was nothing more to ever need. And there was nowhere else I wanted to be in the whole wide world.

"So," John finally removed his lips from my skin. "Your birthday." His eyes were warm and golden, made me completely forget what I'd been planning on saying.

"Yeah." I agreed, and cleared my throat. "I, uh... I was thinking." Small steps, I reminded myself. "I know you have to work. But, I thought I'd cook dinner. And I thought maybe you could stay over. I mean, the whole night. And then the next day we could go for breakfast somewhere."

"You city people." He teased me lightly. I couldn't read his face.

"What?" I asked blankly.

"Breakfast? Honestly?"

I laughed. That was his objection? "Yes." I said firmly. He shook his head, his eyes amused.

"So?" I asked. "Dinner and stay the whole night with me? And then breakfast or lunch depending on how much we want to get out of bed?"

John gave me a look I didn't quite understand, then he gave a soft laugh and nodded. "If that's what you really want." He said, and ducked his head to kiss me again.

I grinned at him.

It was.

September 2009:

John:

"Shhh!" Keith pressed his hands over my mouth and we froze as the phone clicked over to the answering machine. We tried to breathe quietly as we listened to the garbled voice from the hall and I managed to get his hands off my mouth. I was short enough of breath as it was.

"Why do you even have a phone this close to your bedroom?" I demanded. Keith's body was hot and damp against mine. He'd been panting harder than me up until a moment ago.

"Shhhh!" Keith hissed, trying not to laugh and trying to get his hands over my mouth again. "I don't know if they can hear us or not."

I laughed and Keith grabbed a pillow -- obviously I was laughing too loud -- and tried to wrestle it over my head.

Not happening. I wrestled back and we ended up laughing fit to burst and gasping for breath. Luckily, whoever had rung him with birthday wishes had finally hung up.

"Can we get back to the birthday sex now?" I asked idly, as if it wasn't a big deal. As if I wasn't actually already deep inside him and desperate for more. And every time he wriggled around or tried to smother me I just got more desperate.

Keith grinned at me. "Well..." he said in a considering tone. I stroked my fingers up his thighs, up his stomach and up to his nipples. He 'mm'ed softly. His nipples weren't as sensitive as mine, but he still apparently liked the attention. I twisted them lightly and he moaned louder, leaning forward. He brushed his lips against mine, and I fought the urge to claim his mouth with the urgency I was feeling. I fought that and won, but I didn't even try to stop myself from moving my hips and beginning a slow rhythm.

"Oooh, John," Keith murmured. He rested his forehead against my shoulder and I reached in between us and took him in hand. He shuddered and groaned and pushed my hand away. "No," he told me, biting his sentence off strangely and looking up at me with glazed eyes. "You've already sucked me and - and rimmed me to the point- just no. Not until - you want me to cum."

I grinned at him. I liked to know I could bring him to that point- and the point where he couldn't talk clearly. I thrust up into him harder and Keith moaned.

"Like that?" I asked, repeating the same motion. Keith arched into the movement and reached out and grabbed the headboard.

"Uh huh," He gasped. "Yes. John... again. Please." His head was bowed, his eyes squeezed shut. His mouth was half open, and he was gripping the headboard of the bed as if his life depended on it.

I gripped his hips and ground him down against me as I sank deep into him, increasing the pace of my movements.

"John," he managed, panting, tipping his head back. His skin was flushed, damp. I'd been keeping him on tenterhooks for a while now. It was taking its toll on me too.

"It's ok, babe," I murmured, savouring every instant I was inside his hot, slick passage. I was never going to get used to this. I was never going to take it for granted.

"Oh god, I need more," Keith whimpered.

"That's it, babe. You look so hot riding me."

Keith groaned, tipped his head forward again. "John, you're killing me." He gasped. "God, John... fuck..." I liked the combination of those words. I smiled up at him and directed a few short sharp jabs at his prostate. Keith arched and wailed, bit his lip.

His cock was up against his belly, leaking precum.

"John," he said raggedly. He let go of the headboard and leant back on his hands. I moved more slowly inside him. I knew from experience that he'd cum quicker like this and I wanted to draw this out, keep him on edge.

"Oh god," he whispered again, leaning his head back further, his neck so graceful. "John..."

"You feel so good," I murmured to him, running my hands down his thighs. I noted they were trembling.

I pushed myself to a sitting position, gathered Keith into my arms and pulled him closer against me. He kissed me eagerly, his hands sliding into my hair and down my back.

I grabbed a couple of pillows from behind me and struggled to get them behind Keith, in between my knees. It took me a minute, in which Keith switched to tugging on my nipples and nibbling my neck and I nearly forgot totally what I was doing.

After a moment too long letting myself enjoy his caresses, I tried to ease him down and shift with him so I remained inside him as we changed positions.

Keith's eyes were glazed and he didn't exactly help, but all the same I just managed it. If he'd been any larger or heavier it might have been a different story.

He sprawled on his back, his knees spread high and wide.

"John, need more," he moaned. I ignored him, bent forward and licked his nipple. When he whimpered he sounded like he was almost in pain. "John, fuck, so good," he gasped, jerking his hips. I groaned. He was so hot and tight, so wonderful around me. I would never ever ever get tired of this.

"Going to cum for me?" I asked, my voice low and rough.

"God, yes, yes..."

"Not yet," I told him, beginning the long, slow gliding thrusts I knew would drive him wild.

Keith moaned, wound his fingers into his hair. He turned his face eagerly for a kiss when I leant forward again, slid his tongue immediately into my mouth.

"John," he gasped, threading his fingers through my hair, then clutching my shoulders. "God, John, so close, so close... Please..."

"Not yet, babe," I whispered again. He whimpered wildly, but he didn't argue or ask again, which somehow just turned me on even more.

"John... John..." Keith was whispering, panting, while his body arched and pulled mine closer. My name had never sounded so good.

He was gasping and twitching more frequently. His hands were gripping my back again, digging in hard, pulling me closer. He was hissing his breath through his teeth.

"You love this, don't you?" I whispered. Keith arched his head back, gave a breathless half laugh.

"John... please..." he finally gasped, breaking off into a soft whimper.

"Cum for me, beautiful," I finally whispered, reaching between us and sliding my hand around his cock.

His sharp cries turned into a long wail and he thrashed beneath me as he came into my hand almost instantly. He was still crying out even after he finished cumming. He groaned and tilted his head back again as I came hard inside him, clutched me tight and squeezed me until I was coming back down to earth.

I kissed his shoulder and neck, made my way towards his mouth. He demanded deep kisses from me, his hands sliding into my hair.

Finally he sighed and I rested my head on his shoulder.

It was so warm and comfortable here. I didn't plan on moving in a very long time. Except then I noticed that Keith was trembling underneath me. I kissed his neck and his shoulder again, then propped myself up on my elbows.

"Keith," I murmured. "You alright?"

He opened one eye and shut it again. "Awesome." He sighed, and then gave the most satisfied sounding moan I'd ever heard.

Which just made me laugh.

"Was that a good birthday, babe?" I asked, glancing at the clock. It was just about midnight.

He met my gaze with beautiful solemn eyes.

Then he cracked a grin. "The best in I can't even think how long." He told me, pulling me to kiss him again. "God. I'm exhausted." He sighed softly, flopping back onto the bed. "I don't want to move.. ever..."

"Here," I said. "I'll go get a cloth." I disentangled myself from him and made my way to the bathroom, cleaned up and took a damp face washer back into the bedroom and gently cleaned Keith up too.

He lay with his hands under his head, watching me with the most satisfied, sleepy smile ever.

I wondered if he suspected what I already knew- that I really loved doing this. That I was beginning to forget how things had been before him.

That I couldn't imagine an after.

That I wanted this forever. And it terrified me.

"So," I said, swallowing hard so I could speak. I was not going to think about that. Not now. Not tonight. Not around Keith. He intoxicated me, made me want more and forever and all these things I'd never wanted, never planned on having. If I needed to think, I'd have to do it away from him. I couldn't think straight around him. "Breakfast in the morning?"

Keith laughed weakly. "John, after that I don't think I'm going to want to leave this bed for lunch, let alone breakfast..."

I grinned and slid my fingers up the inside of his thigh. Keith shivered.

"Especially if I can promise a repeat performance?" I asked, giving him an attempted lewd look.

He looked at me as if he might hit me with a pillow, then cracked up laughing.

"Breakfast in bed it is," I said, kissing him softly.

When he looked up at me his face was glowing.

I couldn't imagine how someone like me could make someone like him so happy, but I was loving every minute of it.

And yet, I wasn't sure how much longer this could last.

_______________

Keith:

It was a beautiful day. The under twelves had won their first match, ever, and upon our return what felt like the whole town had turned out to celebrate. Really, it was just the families and some close friends down at the oval. Spring had began in spectacular fashion and there was actually some sun, so we were spilling out from the pavilion and right onto the grass. There were piles of boxes of pizza and packs of soft drinks cans. Beer for the adults. John and I had grabbed a couple and had been kicking a ball around with some of the younger kids who were still too young to be on the team for a while- until they took over the ball entirely.

We were just chatting idly and keeping half an eye on the kids when we noticed a dark car pull into the lot. There were lots of cars coming and going, but it was the people in the car that really stood out. The man and the woman were in suits. And it was Saturday. And no one wore suits like that around here anyway.

They moved into the crowd and spoke to a couple of people. I assumed that they were relatives of someone, from the city, and wondered why they'd bother coming for the celebration if they hadn't been here for the match.

I was thinking about asking John out to dinner. We normally stayed at my house, since he wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. I was impatient, but I didn't want to ruin a good thing, and I knew how hard it could be, so I said nothing. All the same, I really wanted him to tell people. I'd fallen for him, and I didn't want to tell him until he told people about us. If he told them, then he was demonstrating that he was at least attempting to be in this for the long haul. If he even wanted to talk about telling people, then I'd tell him. I was in love with him. Just the thought of telling him and I glowed all over, a special private warmth. It didn't matter that he wasn't out, it didn't matter that he'd only stayed the whole night once, last week for my birthday. I mean, I cared about that and I wanted to change it, but it didn't make a difference to how I felt. I loved him anyway. I loved him despite everything.

The suited couple stopped in front of us. John and I glanced at each other.

"Keith Draper?" The man asked.

"Yeah." I said, my mouth suddenly dry. My glow was gone.

"I'm Detective Sergeant Morgan, this is Detective Senior Constable Kay." There was an awkward pause, then I cleared my throat.

"This is John Matthews. The head of the local station." They both looked at him. I felt like I should have introduced him with his rank like they had, but the problem was I couldn't remember. I didn't know what the difference was between a Constable and a Sergeant and a Detective Senior Sergeant... although on reflection that might have been it.

"We spoke with your deputy at the station. He said you'd be celebrating."

"We are." John said with a slow quirk of his lips and raised his beer.

I was feeling sicker by the minute.

"Is- is everything ok?" I asked. The Detective fixed me with a level gaze.

"Mr. Draper. Do you know a woman by the name of Evelyn Walker?"

"Evelyn Walker?" I repeated. "No." My palms were sweaty, but the name was so foreign to me that I felt sick with relief.

"You sure?" the woman cop took a photo out of her folder and handed it to me. It showed a pretty blonde woman who absolutely glowed with good health. I'd have remembered her, I was sure.

"No." I said again. "I don't recognise her."

"Recognise her now?" the man asked, and the woman handed over another photo. I couldn't believe it was the same woman. She was pale, laying on white sheets, bruising up the side of her face. Her eyes were closed and for a brief, horrifying moment I thought she was dead. A large patch of her hair had been shaved and I could see stitches running across the exposed skin of her scalp though, so I knew she must be alive. Surely...

"No." I answered again. "Why? What happened to her? Is she ok?"

"She was assaulted. Your ex-boyfriend, Mr. Graeme Shields, mentioned your name."

"Ex-partner." I corrected coldly. Boyfriend sounded too temporary, too transient. Then it hit me. "So she's-" I looked back at the photo. "She's his wife." I said. She was the one he left me for.

The policeman nodded. "You can understand why we're here."

They thought I'd attacked her.

"No." I said, shaking my head and pushing the photos back at the female cop. "I didn't assault her! I've never met her, I've never even seen her before! Graeme told you he thought I-?"

"We understand you didn't part on good terms."

We didn't part on good terms? Wasn't that just about the biggest understatement of the century? Not on good terms? I never wanted to see the fuck again!

"He cheated on me with her after we'd been together for six years and then left me to marry her after three months and I thought we were life partners." I said loudly and clearly. I could clearly hear the loathing in my own voice. "So, no. No, we did not part on good terms."

"So you don't deny smashing his windscreen and windows with a golf club?" I swallowed hard.

"No. His lawyers said he wouldn't press charges."

"And will you deny clashing with a local father here?" Ah shit. Joel's dad.

"No. But that's got nothing to do with anything- he accused me of-" I bit off the end of my sentence before I could continue. I'd suddenly realised I didn't want to repeat what he'd said to the police either. Luckily, the policeman went on before the silence became too obvious.

"We don't believe the incidents are related, Mr. Draper. We're just trying to build up a profile here." Bright heat burned in my cheeks. I felt like a small sun. I said nothing. "Where were you on the night of September tenth, Mr. Draper, between the hours of 9 pm and 2 am?"

I felt the blood leave my cheeks. September tenth was my birthday. I'd been home. With John. I'd made dinner. I'd brought out champagne. We'd made out in the lounge room, then made love upstairs in the bedroom. It was the first and only time he'd stayed the whole night. The first and only time I'd woken up his arms and we'd made love again in the early morning light before he'd brought me breakfast in bed.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 06



"The tenth." I repeated, unsure exactly what to say.

"That's correct."

"I was home." I said faintly, feeling John's presence nearby like a comforting warmth against me. He knew I'd been home. He knew I had nothing to do with this. He knew this was all just rubbish.

And yet at the same time I was cold with fear.

"On your own? On your birthday?" They knew it was my birthday. Shit. I swallowed and hesitated.

"I was at home." I repeated softly, only answering half the question. I didn't want to answer it. I was waiting. John would come to my rescue- wouldn't he? He'd tell them he was with me...

"Were you alone, Mr. Draper?" the cop asked me more coldly. I raised my eyes, glanced between the cops and risked a glance at John.

His face was shuttered, pink. His jaw was set. He looked like he was bracing himself for a blow. He was looking at me with the same hard expression as the other cops.

He wasn't going to say anything.

"Yes." I finally answered softly. "I was home. Alone." The words cut deep into my heart.

"And what did you do? Rent a movie? Make some phone calls? Send some emails?"

I'd been in bed with John. I didn't know what the hell had been on tv so I couldn't even pretend to have watched something. I barely knew what night of the week that had been. We'd ignored the phone when it had rung. And no I hadn't sent any emails- as if I would have wasted time on the computer when I had John naked in my bed! But right then I wished I had. Just one. Answered one call. Just made some small mark in the maze of the internet, in the ether of the universe, that let them know I'd been home and nowhere near the city.

"I made dinner." I said slowly, swallowing hard. My throat was tight and it was hard to speak. "I made roast lamb and chocolate cherry cake. I had some champagne. And I went to bed."

"What time?"

"I- I'm not sure. Ten? Eleven?"

"You drank champagne on your own?" one of the cops asked.

"It was my birthday." I answered stiffly. John, I begged silently. John, say something...

"Mr. Draper. I find it hard to believe you spent your birthday evening at home drinking champagne on your own. Are you telling us you don't have a boyfriend or any friends in town or family somewhere you might have shared the evening with?" He had to have heard stranger things, surely...

"I spent the evening alone." I repeated, feeling closer and closer to losing it entirely.

"And you didn't make any phone calls? Didn't receive any visitors? You made a roast, alone, and drank champagne, alone?"

"If you ask John here," I snapped, my temper finally fraying. I looked at him, saw the set of his features, the sudden sharp fear and shock in his eyes as his gaze snapped to mine. He really thought I was going to out him? That really stung. My heart actually broke a little. It hurt more than anything in my whole life. "He'll tell you I'm more than capable of drinking anything on my own." I realised in the silence that more people than just the cops were listening to me and probably had been the whole time and also that I didn't care one bit. "Is that everything?" I asked viciously.

"Just one more question. When was the last time you spoke to your former partner?" Ouch. I wished I hadn't corrected him. Former partner hurt a lot more than ex-boyfriend.

"I haven't." I said frostily. "Not since he left me."

"Alright. So you're telling us that you didn't assault her?"

"If I wanted to assault someone," I answered through clenched teeth. "It would be Graeme bloody Shields. Not his wife who doesn't even know I exist."



"That's all then. If you think of anything else," the cop said and held out his card. I glared at him a moment then snatched it with ill grace. "Don't leave town." He told me. Then they nodded to us and then turned and headed back towards their car.

I stood in shock for a moment. There was a silence so complete that I thought it had to be my hearing rather than the absence of noise. I looked at John. I wanted him to say something, anything. I wanted him to run after the cops, to even just look at me, to acknowledge what had just happened.

Instead he stared at a point somewhere over my shoulder. I had the impression he didn't want me to look at him. As if that would be enough for people to start to guess.

I swallowed hard, looked around at everyone else. No one was meeting my eyes. I moved blindly towards the rubbish bin. I dropped my beer into it, then I turned on my heel and walked away.

My chest was tight around my heart. I felt sick. Why hadn't John said anything? He hadn't even had to come out. He could have just said we'd had dinner. He could have said I'd gotten drunk and he'd cleaned up after me again. No one would have argued. He could have even asked the cops to his office to supposedly find out more about the incident and my being a suspect and there had a quiet word to them... he could have gone after them as they'd walked away... and he'd done nothing.

I jammed my hands in my pockets. I was nearly past the last of the kids playing with the ball when Joel ran up.

"Hey, coach," he said.

"Later, Joel." I said, slightly tersely. I was angry and upset and shocked and I didn't want to play right now.

Instead he put his hand on my arm. "I'll tell them I was with you." He said urgently. I shrugged him off.

"Don't you say a word." I said angrily. "After what your dad accused me of? And do you even remember where you were that night? No. If they talk to you, which they probably will now they've seen you run over here to talk to me, then you will tell them the truth." I knew I sounded absolutely livid, but I didn't care. I couldn't help it. He wasn't supposed to have heard. He wasn't supposed to be offering to do what the man I was in love with wouldn't. My grief was a sharp pain right through my chest and gut.

"Then why won't John?' he asked me. I reeled as if slapped. "Yeah, I know." He said with a shrug. "I saw you in your shed, months ago. I saw you at Angie's party too. And... So why isn't he telling them he was with you?"

"Because he-" I wanted to defend him. I knew why. He couldn't bring himself come out. He wouldn't tell anyone. And god, I knew it was hard, but I really needed him to stand up for me. I needed him to tell the world how he felt about me. If he actually felt anything at all.

Maybe he didn't. Maybe keeping our relationship secret was more important to him than the relationship itself...

"I don't know." I finally answered into the growing silence. I felt broken by the admission. Defeated. I would do anything for John. Anything at all. I was completely in love with him. I had been for months now. And he wouldn't be seen with me in public more than once every fortnight or so. He was going to stand by and let me be interrogated, let me be a suspect in an assault because he didn't want anyone to know about us. Or was it, to know about me?

"Joel, listen to me. You're not to say anything to anyone, got it? Least of all to John. Just stay out of it, alright?" He looked hurt but I couldn't waver on this. "Alright?" I asked again, louder, and he finally nodded.

I sighed, tried to get a grip on myself. This wasn't Joel's fault. "Look. I do appreciate it. But... it's not worth you getting involved. Just keep your nose clean and tell them the truth about anything they want to know."

"Except about John?" he asked.

"Anything, except about John." I confirmed. He looked at me like he didn't believe me, like he was going to wait until I was gone and then do exactly as he liked anyway. "Joel, there's every chance he will... talk to them." God, oh god, I hoped he would. And yet somehow... it felt like a lie. It felt like a useful fiction instead of something I could actually believe in. "I need... to give him a chance. So please. Don't say anything." I don't know if he believed me. I hardly believed me.

Joel nodded unhappily and I left him there. I was going home. I was locking all my doors and shutting all my curtains, and I was going to roll up in my blankets and probably wish I had more champagne. I liked it a whole lot more than rum.

The house was dark and cool inside, but I was too agitated to sit down. I paced my hallway. I felt like I was waiting, but I don't know what for. For the phone to ring. For my phone to ring. To make some sort of decision, to come to some sort of conclusion within myself...

I paced the hallway for ages. I couldn't even consider doing anything else. And the longer I paced the more clear it became that no one was going to arrive at my door, that no one was going to call. And then I really couldn't even think about doing anything else.

Finally, when I didn't think I could keep doing this anymore, I sat on the couch, pulled out my phone.

"Emma?" I asked when the phone stopped ringing.

"Keith?" My sister's voice had a surprised lilt to it. I didn't call her as often as she'd like. Mostly she just called me. And more and more frequently I'd been with John and hadn't answered or called back, so it had been a while since I'd spoken to her.

"Hi, Em." I said, finding my throat tightening. "I'm sorry I haven't called for so long."

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately, and I leant back and closed my eyes. Tears leaked down my cheeks. "Keith?"

"Em, would you come and visit me? Please?" I could hardly speak past the lump in my throat.

"I've got a week of classes before mid semester holidays start," She answered. I squeezed my eyes tighter shut. Of course she did. Fuck. And here I was calling her and hoping she'd drop everything just because I wanted a shoulder to cry on. "Which I can skip, easy. I'll ask Josh to take notes for me. I'll be there quick as I can, hon. I'll just pack some stuff and hop in my car, ok? Will you hold up 'til then?"

"Yup." I answered, despite the desolation in my chest's persistent scream of 'no'.

"Anything I can bring?" she asked.

"Some rum." I answered. "Actually, anything will do. Whatever."

"Oh, Keith." She said heavily, which only made me want to cry even more. "I'll be there soon as I can, alright? Make sure you call me. For anything, you hear?"

"Yeah." I said quietly.

"Ok, hon. I'll be there soon." She hung up and I covered my face.

The house was too quiet. I wanted John there, in my kitchen laughing and talking and occasionally attempting to help but failing miserably while I cooked. Cutting his fingers or distracting me until something burned. Sitting in the lounge with me watching tv or making out or telling me stories about his work, just talking about life. In bed just curled up together, or with my laptop, him reading what I'd written while I edited one handed and interrupted him a lot with excuses and explanations since I was so paranoid he wouldn't like it. Even banging on my door or trying to break my back door in again just to tell me he'd told them the truth and that he loved me and that everything was going to be alright. Telling me he was sorry and he'd call them now, straight away, if only I just answered the door. Or even just demanding to know what I was thinking walking away like that.

And instead there was just that awful, echoing emptiness. That gut-wrenching silence.

I went upstairs and undressed. I turned the shower up as hot as I could stand and stood under the water with my eyes closed until the hot water began to run out.

Getting out and dry and dressed in track pants and t shirt took more effort than anything I'd ever done in my life.

I did go to bed. Not because I was tired, but because I couldn't concentrate on anything else, and there was nothing I wanted to do. I couldn't eat or read or write or watch tv or anything at all. In the end I lay there in a ball with my phone nearby. I was waiting for it to ring. I didn't plan on answering it if it did, but this silence was worse than anything.

This was worse than anything I could have imagined.

I wasn't even sure I'd hurt this bad when Graeme left me, even though I didn't see how that was possible. I just hurt. I ached all over. I was in so much pain that it felt physical.

I felt like the dumbest fuck in the world. My previous partner and I had never acknowledged our relationship at work, because he'd said he felt like it was 'unprofessional'. I should have seen the truth when he left me for a woman. But then to get involved with a closeted guy straight afterwards? What the hell? What had I been thinking?

I lay curled around a pillow because it was something to hold- even if it was depressingly thin and cold and absolutely nothing like the warm body I wished it was - and I somehow fell asleep.

I was woken up by my phone ringing. With all the thoughts racing around my head I could hardly believe I'd ever nodded off.

"Em?" I asked with a mix of relief and sick, crushing disappointment after looking at the screen.

"I'm at the front door, doofus." She said. "You gonna let me in?"

I scrambled down the stairs, tripping and stumbling down the last few, nearly knocking over an antique hall stand I'd bought. Pain shot up my leg from my toe. I swore and hopped to the door, fumbled with the lock.

"Keith." Em moaned when she saw me and threw her arms around my neck. I peered over her shoulder. Through the bushy fake fur of her hood I could see that it was late. Really late.

"Ok." She finally said. "Let me go, now." I let her go and stepped back. She grinned at me. Her little old Honda sat in the driveway behind my car. And on the doorstep next to her was the most massive suitcase I'd ever seen. I didn't even know they came that big. I wondered how she fit it in her car.

Em was wearing green plastic dangly earrings and had her hair tied on top of her head in something like a topknot, in front of which she had settled a pair of impossibly pink sunglasses. What she thought she was doing with sunglasses on top of her head in the middle of the night was beyond me. She was wearing leggings and a short skirt with colourful hi top sneakers, and her bulky jacket with the fur-lined hood. She had a red tasselled handbag, a laptop bag and a book bag over her shoulder.

We went inside and dragged her case upstairs into the second bedroom. I was glad there had already been sheets on the bed. I didn't have the energy to do make it up or do anything else right now.

I showed her around the house at her insistence. I think she was impressed by its size and my recently manifested decorating skills, but I wasn't inclined to talk about it much. I was still in shock.

She changed into pyjamas while I made hot chocolates and got out some cookies on autopilot.

I asked about the drive down and she shrugged and made light about some idiot driver who'd nearly killed her and some detours through town.

She could tell I wasn't listening. She took our mugs and put them in the sink with the empty plate then dragged me upstairs behind her and into my room. She pushed me onto the bed and tucked me in, sat next to me with her legs crossed. Her toenails were silver and sparkly. The tattoo on her ankle and calf was still as incomprehensible to me as ever.

"You going to tell me what happened?" she asked.

I shook my head and pressed my face into the pillow.

"Did he leave you?" She asked bluntly. I shook my head. He hadn't outright. "So you left him?" I shook my head again. "You fought?" She guessed. I shook my head for a third time. Emma sighed and reached out and took my hand, squeezed it in hers. "I'm running out of ideas here, Keith." She said dryly.

I turned onto my side so I could see her. "You know," I swallowed hard and began again. "You know that Grae left me?" She nodded. I hadn't actually talked about it with her. I just knew that mum had told her. "Well. He didn't just leave me. I left something out."

"What?" She asked, solemn and wide eyed.

"He left me for someone else." I admitted, my voice breaking. "A woman. And they got married three months after he left me."

"Three months?" she repeated loudly. I nodded. "Well, shit." I nodded again. "Why didn't you say something?"

"It was bad enough he left me. He'd been cheating on me and he was leaving me for her. I couldn't... I didn't want everyone to know." She rubbed my palm almost like a massage. It made me want to cry.

"So," Em said slowly. "Something's happened with Grae?"

"His wife... she was assaulted."

"Oh." Em said, but she looked puzzled.

"The police came to question me."

"What? Why would they think you'd hurt her?"

"Because I wrecked Grae's car when he left me. Because Grae told them about it. I don't know. I don't know, Em."

"Ok. And...?" she encouraged me.

"They came to ask me questions. We were celebrating a win. And I was standing there with John. And they asked if I recognised her in these photos, and then they wanted to know where I was September tenth between 9 and 2 am."

"So you're a suspect." I nodded and closed my eyes.

"The thing is... that was my birthday."

"Yeah, I called and you didn't answer." She said, then frowned. "Where were you?"

"Here."

"Then why didn't you answer?"

"Because John was here." I answered miserably. "I did call you back."

"John." she repeated. "So he's- he's the new boyfriend?" she asked. God, I wanted him to be. The word send hot longing right through me. "The one you were so excited about and then don't actually talk about."

"Yes. No. I don't know." I squeezed my eyes tighter shut. "Thing was... John was with me when they were asking questions... and he didn't say anything."

"So, what- the cops think you're a suspect because he didn't tell them he was with you?" That about summed it up. I nodded. "Fucking prick." She said in a surprised voice. "I told you it was a bad idea to date a guy who wasn't out. And now you tell me what Graeme did to you? And you thought this was a good idea why?"

"Em!" the last thing I needed was for her to say I told you so. I pulled the pillow over my face and fought the tightness of my throat. I wasn't sure if I was shaking or not.

"You're having a good year, hey?" Em said gently. "So what are you going to do? Keith, you can't keep seeing this guy. You'll only get hurt."

"It's a bit late for that." I said bitterly. "I'm in love with him." Emma sighed. "God, I wouldn't have gone out and got my heart broken on purpose! I just... It wasn't supposed to be like this..." My frustration faded back into shock and pain and I found my eyes filling with tears.

"Keith." She moaned and wrapped her arms around me. She stroked my hair gently and I half held my breath to keep myself from crying. I didn't want to cry anymore. I just wanted it to be over.

Em stayed with me until I fell asleep.

I stumbled downstairs the next morning and found Em had taken over my kitchen table with all her books and notes. She was wearing yellow leggings and a green skirt with a pink jumper, somehow was sitting cross legged in her chair.

"Sleep ok?" she asked. I shrugged and opened the cupboard to find a coffee mug. "I would have made you breakfast if you'd stayed in bed longer." She said with a frown.

I didn't answer, just made my coffee and sat down opposite her.

"You're really pale." She said.

"Gee, thanks."

She gave me a smile that was two parts sad and one part worried. "Movie marathon?" she asked. I shrugged. I really didn't care. As long as there was no effort involved on my part.

We followed that pattern for a couple of days, hardly leaving the house. Em studied a bit and I slept (or tried to) a lot, she tried to feed me up and I refused to eat.

In the end she relented and bought some tequila and lemons and we passed an evening getting soused.

Again, it didn't do anything much to help.

Em and I were watching nothing and more nothing on tv the day after that when the doorbell rang. I was in my pyjamas with a quilt around my shoulders, so Emma got up to answer it. I realised in the instant before anyone spoke that I knew who it would be.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 06



"Um. Hi." I heard Em say. She was probably staring at the gaggle of women on my doorstep in something like disbelief. I got off the couch and hurried into the hall and up behind Em.

"I'm so sorry!" I blurted. Rose, Gloria and Marjorie all looked slightly taken aback. "I totally forgot. I haven't even- I haven't even cleaned up..." I felt like a total idiot. I had meant to call them and ask if we could reschedule but it had totally slipped my mind. Emma looked at me as if just realising that I knew these people. "This is my sister, Emma." I introduced her. "Em, these ladies are most of the cooking group."

"Oh. Right." Emma said blankly.

"Rose, Gloria, Marjorie, Ida, Anne, Elizabeth..." the dozen or so ladies nodded as I said their names.

"Are you not well, Keith?" Elizabeth asked. She was blind without the glasses she refused to wear.

"Ah- not my best," I admitted.

"Shall we reschedule?" Ida asked anxiously.

"No!" I objected. "You've done all this baking... I-"

"Why don't you come in?" Emma invited, taking charge of the situation. "We can put the kettle on and set up while Keith goes and cleans up."

"But the kitchen..." I said to her in a hiss. I hadn't cleaned it in a while... Emma just laughed. She was nowhere near as house proud as I was.

"I'll fix it. You go and have your shower." She wrinkled her nose at me and I ran upstairs to comply as the groups tarted to file into the house.

I leant my head against the cold tiles in the shower and shed a few tears. I was still hurting, but now I was kicking myself for forgetting this and not having prepared... and wishing it had been John at the door...

When I came down the kitchen was sparkling and so was the lounge-dining area. It didn't take a dozen women very long at all. They were placing plates of cakes and tarts and slices and biscuits out on the table. Emma was hovering, looking very much like she'd died and gone to heaven. She had a pretty big sweet tooth.

"You feeling better?" Gloria asked quietly.

"I'm ok." I answered with a shrug. I think we all knew it was a lie. My eyes were puffy and probably red, and I hadn't eaten much or slept well for a few days. I must have looked a sight.

I wasn't very good company either. Normally I enjoyed hearing the town gossip - minor scandals no one outside this group took much interest in that had taken place anywhere between fifty years ago and tomorrow -- but I had nothing to say. I let them interrogate Emma instead, and hoped she didn't mind. I don't think she did. She was pretty much the life of the party.

When they went they insisted on leaving a huge amount of food behind, which spurred Em to tell them they were welcome to come over any time at all, and to be even more friendly than she had been. I could see she thought this was a ticket to eternal cupcakes.

By the time we actually saw them off I half felt like Em had stolen them from me. We waved them off from the front porch. Em had her arm around me, and I couldn't help but cling to her more tightly when I saw John and Sarah walking down the other footpath. Sarah saw us and waved. As far as she knew I had no reason not to wave, so I waved back. John's gaze was unreadable from so far away. I wanted him to grab Sarah by the hand and drag her over here and beg me to forgive him for not saying anything sooner... but he showed not the slightest sign of acting.

It seemed like he hadn't even looked in my direction.

I put my arms around Emma and took her inside. She marched off to the kitchen without speaking.

I checked the messages on my phone and found one from the police. I rang the number back and got one of them.

"Is that Keith Draper?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Just informing you that you've been cleared. Ms. Walker regained consciousness and was able to tell us with no uncertainty that you weren't her assailant."

"Great." I said flatly. "Because I didn't already know that."

There was a short silence. "Mr. Draper," the detective said warningly.

I sighed. "Yeah, I know. Is she ok?" I asked. I don't know why.

"The doctors are optimistic. She should be able to go home in a few days." I closed my eyes.

"And Graeme?" I asked, holding my breath. Why was I doing this to myself? Why was I asking?

"What about Mr. Shields?" The detective asked cautiously.

"Nothing." I said, shaking my head, even though I knew he couldn't see it. "Just- I'm glad she's ok."

When he'd hung up I went into the kitchen to tell Em the good news.

She just glared and wiped the benches more vigorously.

I began to wash up the last of the cups. My salty tears mingled with the soapy water.

John:

"That must be his sister!" Sarah said happily, linking her arm through mine. I was filled with a terrible mix of emotions I couldn't sort through. They were like a great knot inside my chest. Each thought just led me in a great big circle, back to where I'd started from, and I couldn't see any answers, any way out. "Shall we go over?" Sarah asked.

"No." I disagreed. Christ- go over and make polite conversation with Keith and his sister? Not when he wasn't speaking to me. "I have to get to work."

"Well maybe we could invite them over for dinner."

"Sarah." I said, more angrily than I'd meant to. I couldn't help it. She blinked at me. "Stop trying to set me up with people." She floundered .

"But-"

"No. I've had enough. So invite them for dinner, fine. Just don't drag me into it."

"I wasn't trying to set you up." She said lamely. It was a lie. She'd been trying to set me up with a nice girl for years. "But you can't object to dinner. It's just a dinner with friends."

I could not sit through a dinner with him. Not before he'd started speaking to me again.

"No." I said firmly. Sarah was quiet. Fuck- she couldn't know, could she?

"You don't believe he did it, do you?" She asked.

"What? No." I answered sullenly. I knew he hadn't. I would have known he hadn't even if I hadn't spent the night holding him against me, pretending to sleep as well as him...

"It's just that- you've been acting kind of funny since Saturday." Of course I was! Everything the police had said, Keith's answer- it had all made me realise exactly how precarious my position was here, and exactly how much I was risking by dating someone in the same town. Exactly what was wrong with me since I couldn't.

"Just tired." I answered, forcing my tone into something more reasonable.

"Fine." Sarah said. "Well. You don't have to come, but I am inviting them for dinner. I'm- I'm a bit worried about Keith." I said nothing. "I haven't seen him since Saturday. I haven't seen him leave the house and Jim said he hadn't been in. I wonder if he's ok."

I thought back to that episode with the rum... to Saturday... Shit. Keith wasn't over him, was he? He still wasn't over Graeme fucking Shields.

"Probably just a bit shocked." I finally managed. She'd think I was being weird if I didn't say anything.

"Yeah." She agreed with a sigh. "Probably."

I tried to change the subject, but my heart stayed where it had sunken: somewhere right about my toes.

Keith:

I debated calling Gordon and letting him know I couldn't take the training that afternoon, but I figured I'd done enough moping for a while. So I showered and shaved and dressed and went to training. I knew I was irritable, but I couldn't apologize for it, since I was still feeling too fragile. I'd probably end up in tears if I tried.

Training was terrible. I got cross and the kids resented it since I was normally patient with them, and I couldn't handle their attitude so I made them run laps. I wanted to apologize by the end of it, or at least give some encouraging speech. Next week, I told myself as they trudged away.

I headed back towards the road to walk home and stopped in shock. John was leaning against his car, next to mine.

My throat tightened. It was like a hallucination, a vision. He was really here?

"Hey." He said. His voice was deep and calm and soothing. My heart galloped. I swallowed hard. I'd been waiting for days and he was finally here. Suddenly the day didn't seem like such a bad one. "You want to take a walk?" he suggested. I nodded jerkily, and stuffed my hands in my pockets. We walked back towards the oval side by side, not even close to brushing against each other, but all the same I'll swear the side of my body closest to him was warm.

"You okay?" he asked. I nodded again, watching the ground. What the hell kind of question was that? "No more rum?" he asked.

"No." I answered coldly. He didn't need to know about the tequila shots.

"I'm glad you've been cleared." He said. Yeah, I thought, no thanks to you. And how do you even know about that? Bastard. God, please, just please... John kept talking. I forced myself to listen. "I know it's messed up," what? "-but I'm here for you, alright?" I stared at him. What the fuck? "When you're ready."

"When I'm ready?" I repeated blankly.

"Yeah. When you're feeling better about Graeme, then I'm here." I stopped walking, my mouth falling open in shock. The whole world shifted under my feet.

"You think I'm not over Graeme." I said flatly. He shrugged. "This has nothing to do with Graeme!" I snapped. "You don't even get it, do you?" The little yellow flame of hope that had ignited in my chest upon seeing him here flickered and died.

"Look." He said, far too calmly. "I understand that what happened has-"

"This isn't about Graeme!" I yelled, something within me finally snapping. "This is about you!" he didn't look surprised- he looked shocked. I couldn't help the tears welling in my eyes. I thought I'd cried enough over the last year to last me my whole life, but apparently I was wrong. John didn't even seem to have a clue why I was upset. How could he not understand? How could he not see what the problem was?

"I was over Graeme before we slept together! I've been over him for months! I told you that! I told you that months ago! This is about you, John! You were supposed to stand up for me!" I yelled. "I needed you to stand up for me. You were supposed to tell them that I had nothing to do with it!" I knew exactly what he was thinking when I said that and I went on, straight away. All I knew, was that if he'd really loved me he would have been there for me -- even if he hadn't come out, he still could have been there. "You didn't even need to come out- you were just supposed to be there for me! What if it hadn't been just questions? What if they'd been coming to arrest me? Would you have said something then?" I wiped my eyes quickly. The silence assaulted my ears. John stared at me like I wasn't speaking English anymore, or maybe like I'd sprouted a second head.

"You weren't going to tell anyone." He said blankly.

"I didn't! And I won't! But this isn't enough, John! I need more! I seem to give and give and I don't seem to get a whole lot in return. Graeme wanted a wife and you want a mistress! But it's not enough. I know you don't want anyone to know, but will you ever tell them? Or are you going to spend your whole life sneaking around?"

"We don't sneak-"

"What the hell would you call it, then? You've stayed the night once and I had to ask like it was some kind of special favour, like I'm the only one who actually wanted it. We can't be seen together in public, we can't even go out. If it's not sneaking then what the hell is it? Because being with someone has never made me so stressed before, or so worried all the time... I'm not ashamed of being gay, John, and I don't know if you noticed, but this isn't the way I live my life! So what would you call it if it's not sneaking around, John? Do you even want this?"

"Of course I want this..."

"How much?" I yelled. "How much do you want this? Not enough, obviously! Not enough to-" I flung my arm out, as if gesturing to everything he didn't love me enough to do. "Not enough to tell anyone. Not enough to make any sort of commitment, or even just a gesture. Not enough, John! I can't believe... I though... John. It's not enough for me. I need more." I tried to sound sane and reasonable, but my voice was shaking and John was still staring at me with that awful shocked expression.

"Like- like what?" He finally blurted.

"Everything! I want everything. And I'll even keep waiting. John, just tell me when you won't need to hide anymore. Just give me a date. Just tell me that one day you'll be ready, and I can wait."

John gaped at me. "Why do you want people to know...?"

And that was that. It was as good as a straight out denial. He was never going to come out. My chest tightened and all I could feel was pure panic. How the hell had I got myself into this?

"Because I don't want to have to hide what I feel! Because we shouldn't have to! Because I love you!" The words tore themselves from my chest before I could reflect on them with anything other than sheer desperation. "I love you and I want the whole world to know!"

I hadn't wanted to tell him like this. these were not words to use in anger, but I couldn't think of anything else to say; it was the truth.

John drew back. This was where he was supposed to tell me he loved me too, to set a date, to pull out his phone and just call Sarah and tell her or anyone... to beg me for more time... But he just stared at me like I was crazy.

This was it.

This was the moment I had been hoping would never come. The moment I had avoided by avoiding important conversations that we should have had months ago- like if he was ever going to man up and come out. Like if he cared enough about us to take that step, or if we were going to have to live in separate houses for the rest of our lives and pretend we were nothing more than friends. This was the moment I'd avoided out of fear of rejection and it hadn't made the slightest bit of difference.

"You know what?" I said helplessly, totally defeated. There was no choice, anymore. I took a few steps backwards, away from him. I had to let go. I had to get out, now. It was already too late to avoid getting hurt, but I had to get out. Now. My throat was so tight it ached, so tight I could hardly speak. "I'm out." I said loudly, the full stop to our argument- and it didn't matter at all that it hadn't been a real argument at all.

I took one last look at John standing there, his hands jammed in his pockets and golden eyes staring at the ground, and then I turned and walked away.

How could this have happened?

I bumped into Em walking down the street. She'd been coming to meet me but hadn't counted on me sending the kids home early. She saw the look on my face and knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Keith..." she said and put her arm around me. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

I nodded numbly. She waited for me to say something, but I couldn't speak so I shook my head. She pulled my arm over her shoulder and hauled me off home again.

"OK." She said, pushing me onto the couch. "What happened? Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to sit on you?"

Not that that would have done much. "John." I swallowed, forcing myself to keep breathing. "He came to see me."

"He came to see you? Isn't that good?"

I shook my head. "He didn't-didn't even know what was wrong. He didn't know why I was angry. He thought I just needed some time after finding out about Grae's wife... he didn't get it, Em..."

"What- you mean he didn't realise it was about the fact that he's not prepared to come out for you?" I nodded miserably. Em stared at me a moment, then got up and started jamming her shoes back on.

"Where are you going?" I sat up more.

"I'm going to bust in his door and shake him! I'm going to tell him what a miserable arsehole he is and tell him to leave you alone or get over himself and fucking come out already! Then I'm going to grab him by the balls and-"

"You don't even know where he lives!" I exclaimed, standing up.

"Well I know where his sister lives! I'm sure she'll tell me!" Em was livid, absolutely fuming. I'd never seen her so angry in my life.

"You can't tell her! You can't knock on her door- she'll want to know why!" I grabbed her arms to stop her going anywhere.

"So?" Emma said, wrenching herself away from me. "I don't care! That bastard should have come out for you! He should have bloody well-"

"If you tell her he'll blame me! I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone! You can't!" Emma finally stopped and stared at me, her lips pressed tightly together.

"It would serve him right." She spat after a long moment.

"That's not the point." I said. "He'll think I'm trying to get back at him. And I can't do that to him, Em... I can't."

A muscle worked in her jaw. "I hate this." She finally spat. "This isn't fair." She didn't need to tell me that. I hugged her tight.

When she pulled away she stomped immediately to the kitchen and muttered that she was going to make dinner. Normally I'd have stopped her, since whatever she cooked would likely be burned or too spicy to eat, but I saw her wipe her eyes on the way so I let her go.

We ate dinner in silence, a big contrast to the violent banging of pans and cutlery that had emanated from the kitchen while she'd been cooking, then Emma got up and left to study in the front room. I wasn't sure what to do on my own since I hadn't been alone in the evenings for quite a long time now. I turned on the tv.

I was rummaging in the fridge and glumly considering what we had in the way of food that would fill up the emptiness inside me -- even though I knew there was nothing I would eat -- when the doorbell rang. Emma was studying, so I shut the fridge to answer the door before I heard her get up and answer it. Obviously she'd had enough of her text books.

I didn't mind. My heart didn't leap with hope when the doorbell rang anymore.

"Oh. Hi." I heard Emma speak but I couldn't tell who was there, they were speaking too quietly. I flicked the switch on the kettle on. It would probably be Sarah or Gloria. "Come in," Em was saying and I heard her laugh softly at something my unknown visitor had said. I pulled some cups out of the cupboard and wished I'd made muffins or something. I liked to have fresh baked goods in the house, but I just hadn't felt much like cooking beyond what was absolutely necessary recently.

I turned around and found Emma showing Joel into the kitchen.

"Oh. Hi, Joel." I said, surprised. I hoped I didn't look like too much of a mess.

"Hey." He said with a brief smile.

I hated to have to ask, but I really didn't want to get beaten up again. "Does your dad know you're here?" I asked cautiously. Training might be one thing, but being inside my house was probably another.

"Yeah." He answered and smiled more broadly. "He's started speaking to me again, you know. I asked if he'd mind if I came to visit and he grunted and said at least you were a good role model."

"Wow." I said. That was a world away from what his father had said to me before. I grinned at him. "I'm surprised he held out this long, though." I hoped I sounded confident in that. Truth was that I hadn't expected things to change at all.

"Yeah. You didn't press charges, for one thing. And he said you can't be all bad. I think it's because you play sport." He gave a crooked smile and a shrug. Well. The sport thing was a new one for me. "And he was just stubborn in the end. Didn't know how to back down graciously, so he couldn't do it at all."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"Mum cried herself into a hysteria and upset dad enough that he agreed to talk to me and sort things out."

"She's ok?"

"Yeah. I think she did it on purpose. You know, so he could speak to me without losing face." I nodded. I was never going to get used to other people's families.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 07



John:

Sarah knew something was up. I was sitting at her kitchen table with a beer while she cooked dinner. She cast me a look every now and again, but she didn't say anything or ask me to help out. Which is how I knew that she knew something was up. Otherwise she'd have been talking to me, at the very least.

I was grateful for the silence. The thoughts rattling around in my head made it hard to think about anything clearly. I was sure that talking to Sarah would only intensify the chaos and I was having enough trouble as it was.

Her husband, Chris, came into the room. He was carrying her littlest, Jonathan, upside down by his ankles and Jessie was running next to him, both of them shrieking with laughter. Chris was grinning madly.

"Chris!" Sarah growled. "You're supposed to be getting them ready for bed not getting them all hyped up! What if you drop him? They're never going to settle down now!"

"Come on," Chris leant forward to kiss her. Jonathan shrieked even louder. "I haven't dropped one of our kids yet."

"Yeah, well, there's still time." Sarah glared at him.

Chris grinned and hoisted Jonathan up to kiss mummy goodnight, then left the room with him over his shoulder. Jessie hugged her and ran after Chris again, gave me a sloppy kiss and big cheeky grin on the way out.

Chris was back within a few minutes, Jonathan and Jessie both apparently tucked up in bed. Callum, the oldest of the three, went to bed before they did, apparently since he didn't have a day time nap anymore. Chris cracked open a beer of his own and then wrapped one arm around Sarah and leaned over her shoulder.

"Mmm," he said, inhaling over her bolognaise sauce.

"Grate some cheese for me, Chris." Sarah said wearily, turning away to fix up the salad.

Chris nabbed a spoon from the drawer and scooped up some sauce. He winked at me from behind Sarah's back. I didn't think I'd given anything away, but Sarah spun around.

"Chris!" She snapped. He grinned and stuck the whole spoon his mouth. "You're supposed to be helping me, not-!"

"Bloody hell!" Chris's face was suddenly very red. "Shit, that's hot!"

"It's boiling, you idiot!" Sarah said, quickly whipping out a glass of water for him and starting to fuss.

I had to hide a smile at her quick change of direction. It was very Sarah.

Sarah sent Chris off to watch tv with his cold beer and rubbed her eyes.

"Am I a nag?" she asked me in a small voice, leaning against the bench-top.

"What?" I asked. I guess I hadn't expected that as a question. She sighed and turned the sauce down and came to sit opposite me at the table.

"Am I a nag?" she repeated.

I swallowed before I responded. So maybe she got uptight a bit quick sometimes... but she and Chris were happy, weren't they?

It hit me like a sucker punch to the stomach.

I suddenly realised how much I wanted what she had. It just snuck up on me all of a sudden. Wasn't this just like those times Keith told me off when I burned something or tasted something before it was ready while he was cooking? Wasn't this exactly what I was missing out on?

Wasn't this what I couldn't have?

"Sarah." I said softly, feeling suddenly very, very empty. "This is life. You don't know... you don't know how much I would give to... to have a life like this."

"Really?" Sarah asked me, looking up at me. I nodded.

"You and Chris... you don't know how lucky you are."

She nodded slowly, the look she gave me intense and searching. I pretended not to notice.

"Thanks." She said softly and kissed my forehead before getting up to finish the meal.

She called Chris in and hugged him tight in the doorway for a moment. I looked at my beer.

It was true. She didn't even know what it was she had. Which was basically everything I wanted. Someone to come home to, someone to wake up with, to raise children with and grow old with. Someone to cook with and do laundry with and talk with... someone to be happy with and to be sad with. Someone special.

But why? Why couldn't I have it?

There was no reason that I could see, apart from my own stupid cowardice.

The knowledge sat like a leaden weight in my stomach, made my chest ache.

I was quiet through the whole meal. Sarah noticed.

She sat down with me in the kitchen after dinner while Chris got the kids ready for bed.

"Have you spoken to Keith recently?" she asked me.

My back immediately went up. "No." I said defensively. "Why?"

"He's been avoiding you too? I'm worried about him." I said nothing. "Maybe you could talk to him," she suggested hopefully. I nearly told her that I couldn't, but then she'd have asked why. But god I missed him. I wanted to tell her, I really did, but something stopped me.

Something held me back.

"Yeah." I agreed pointlessly, having no intention of actually doing so.

I couldn't face him. Not when I couldn't give him what he wanted.

The problem was that I had never been more aware of just how much I'd lost.

Or rather, how much I'd thrown away.



Keith:

Em and I decided to go to the city for the weekend. She thought I needed to get away for a few days and I thought a distraction might be nice.

I had plans to see mum and dad, catch up with a few friends whom I hadn't seen for months, plans to go out and have some fun and maybe actually enjoy myself for a while.

We drove back to the city early in the morning and had brunch with some friends at a café we liked in one of the newly trendy neighbourhoods. They were pleased to see us, but I thought they looked at me funny. I knew why. I wasn't myself.

I got through brunch anyway, managed to actually laugh and smile a bit and for a while to feel like I hadn't left a huge great chunk of my heart back on the oval in town.

My phone rang as we were driving from brunch to Em's place. I didn't know the number .

"Hello?" I answered cautiously.

"Keith. Hi. It's Tim." I knew immediately from the voice who it was and sucked in a breath. I didn't know him overly well, but he'd been a nice guy. Under different circumstances we might have even been friends. "Uh. Graeme's brother." He went on. I had to smile.

"Yeah, I know who you are. How are you?"

"Yeah, good. Listen, I heard from Lisa that you're in the city this weekend. She heard from Sal." Christ. I'd only said goodbye to Sal 20 minutes ago. And I hadn't realised Sal or Lisa knew Tim that well.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." I agreed. I didn't have a whole lot of choice if he knew I was here.

"Great. Listen, you want to meet up for a drink? I really want to talk to you. Face to face." He sounded serious. My heart sank. Fuck. I didn't want to talk about Graeme.

"I'm sort of a bit busy this weekend..." I said slowly. It wasn't a lie, either. I was jam packing everyone in.

"Listen," he said again. I shut my eyes. "It's just that- I feel really bad about what Grae did to you. I just want to-"

"Tim. I'm fine." I tried to sound firm, but I couldn't really. He was silent.

"Five minutes." He countered. I sighed and rolled my eyes at Em. I wondered what exactly Sal had been saying that spurred Lisa to tell Tim and made Tim need to talk to me so desperately.

I drew a breath and fought the temptation to start my sentence with 'listen' the way he did. "Why don't you drop past my sister's tonight? We're having some friends around for drinks."

"Oh. I-I don't want to be in the way." He sounded hesitant. Prick, I thought. Maybe I'd been wrong about him. He was probably afraid it would be a room full of gays and guys in heels.

"You won't." I assured him. "We set it for seven, so come over a bit earlier." There was a short silence. I hoped I'd discouraged him.

"Yeah, alright." He finally agreed.

"Great." I agreed somewhat flatly, and told him the address.

"What does he want?" Em asked once he'd rung off.

"No idea." I lied, leant back in the seat and shut my eyes.

Tim arrived at 6.30 on the dot. He'd dressed up, which was nice considering I didn't think he'd want to stay long, but he still looked a lot like Graeme. Far too much like Graeme for comfort.

"Keith." He greeted me warmly when Em showed him into the kitchen.

"Hi Tim." I tried to sound bright, but I don't think he was fooled.

"You've lost weight." He said, sounding concerned.

"Yeah." I agreed, although I hadn't realised it was that much. Still, I wasn't going to argue. He'd known me for six years and had seen me often enough to be able to play spot the difference. I got us a beer each. I was feeling way too tense.

"Keith." He said when I came back. "I'm really sorry about Graeme."

"It's fine." I told him. "You had nothing to do with it."

"Which doesn't make it ok."

"Tim. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm over it. Alright?" He didn't look convinced. "I was heartbroken at first, but I got through it. I let go of Graeme when I saw the engagement notice. That was months ago."

"Oh. Right. So- so you knew he was getting married before the cops...?"

"Yeah." I agreed. He scrutinized me closely.

"So you're not upset about Graeme?"

"Well I wouldn't say that." I said with a smile. "I probably couldn't face him. Don't think I'll ever want to see him again. But that's... he's not the reason I've lost weight, if that's what you're asking."

"Are you alright?" Tim asked me without hesitation, reaching out to touch my wrist.

"I will be." I answered, trying to sound assured. I probably would be, too. One day.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Fell in love with the wrong person." I admitted. "Things didn't work out."

Tim squeezed my arm and slid his hand up my shoulder. "Twice in one year's a bit rough." He said softly.

I nodded. "Yeah." He didn't have to tell me that.

I'd forgotten this about Tim. He was confident and self-assured like Grae was, but really physically demonstrative. He was always reaching out to touch the person he was conversing with, stranger or no. I knew he'd freaked a couple of people out and managed to get into a few interesting situations because of it, and it was even more marked with people he knew. I tried hard to ignore the way his hand lingered. I knew without a doubt that he was totally straight and definitely had no interest in me. For all intents and purposes, he was just concerned. But it was still awkward.

"You need to talk about it?" He asked.

"No. I think I'm ok." I answered firmly. I was determined not to talk about it, not to cry any more. He smiled. "How about you?" I asked. "How've you been?"

"Well." He said with a twist of his lips. "You know, Grae and I had a huge fight. He invited me to the wedding, but it was conditional. I had a list of things I couldn't talk about. The whole family did. And the friends. I think a few of them didn't come rather than lie for him. He rang me. Before I knew. To tell me he was bringing his girlfriend for dinner. I- I laughed, Keith. I told him the least he could do was call you his wife. And there was this silence. And then he cleared his throat and told me her name and told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to mention you or even hint about him having been in a relationship so recently and that I was to give mum and dad the same message and make sure everyone had their stories straight. I couldn't believe it. It was only a month after we last all got together and he expected to bring his girlfriend and have us make her feel welcome. But to lie for him... I couldn't believe it. I pressed and he admitted that... he told me everything."

I was touched that he'd fought with Grae, but it was awkward. It was almost humiliating. I didn't particularly want everyone I knew to know that my long term partner had cheated on me and left me for a woman.

"Let's not talk about it anymore." I said. "I appreciate the sentiment, Tim, but... I don't need to go over it, anymore. It's done. It's over. Alright?" he nodded slowly.

"I just wanted you to know that... I'm sorry." He said.

"Thanks."

"And... you know when the wedding was?"

"On our anniversary? Yes. The message was... rather clear." Tim grimaced.

"It was just chance. He didn't mean it. It was just the only day they could get the venue they wanted. Short notice, you know."

"Right." I agreed vaguely. "How is she, anyway?" I asked, because I didn't want to talk about Graeme anymore. I wasn't sure how talking about his wife was any better, but it had been the first thing to come to mind when I was casting about for something else to talk about.

"She's alright. She's a nice girl, but..." He looked awkward. I had to smile. "She found out." He finally said.

"What? About me?" I was surprised. From what he'd said before, I would have thought that I would have been the secret Graeme took to his grave.

"Yeah. The police, you know. When Graeme flipped out and gave them your name... she wanted to know who you were when the police talked to her later. I don't know exactly how it played out, but... I gather things are a bit rocky for them at the moment."

"Tim." I said. I felt like I was suffocating, my chest was so tight. I didn't need to know this. I didn't want to know any of it. I would have preferred to have never heard anything about Graeme ever ever again. "Can we change the subject now? Please?"

"Oh, sure. Of course." I shook my head in slight disbelief and took a deep breath. Obviously he'd really wanted to get that off his chest.

We chatted for a while until it got close to seven. I asked Tim if he wanted to stay.

"Oh." He said, frowning. I wondered what was up with him. "Well. My girlfriend will probably be here to pick me up soon." Oh. That was it? That was the reason he couldn't stay?

"Bring her in." I said with a shrug. "We won't bite."

"Really?" he asked. "You're sure that'd be ok?"

"Yeah." I agreed. It would be. He was a nice guy and I was fairly sure my friends would like him. They might be upset he was a) straight and b) spoken for, but that would be all. Unless they tried to flirt with him despite both those points. God, I really hoped they didn't.

The evening was a great success. We all had too much to drink and were all best friends by the end of the evening. I'm not quite sure what happened after that.

Most people ended up staying over, so when we woke up it was like the aftermath of some frat party which I'd never experienced when I was at Uni, and had never actually expected to experience at my age.

In the morning we made coffee and Emma sent a couple of people down to the shops to buy large amounts of food to fry up, and I found myself suddenly confronted with a whole lot of my friends who had taken it upon themselves to come and stay with me for a few days to make sure I was ok.

And nothing I said or did would discourage them.

John:

It had been more than two weeks. The longest two weeks of my life. Not a day went past where I didn't wonder why I hadn't said anything, and more, why I couldn't now. I couldn't figure out why it was so hard, and every day I wondered if it would even make a difference if I spoke up now. I'd thrown everything away before I'd even recognized what I had.

And Keith had left town.

Sarah had seen him and his sister packing huge amounts of luggage into her tiny car and I was sick to my stomach thinking that maybe he'd moved back to the city...

If he had, I was going to have to get his address off Gloria and go up to see him.

Yeah. Right.

I asked myself, then what? The problem was that I didn't know.

But I couldn't stay like this.

I was drowning on my own. It had never mattered before that I was alone; being alone and single had never been a big deal.

And now it was. I was miserable. Utterly consumed with regret and with confusion and a great raging emptiness inside me.

Life without Keith in it suddenly seemed so pointless, but the idea that I could have him in my life seemed so remote, so impossible, that I couldn't reconcile that desire with reality.

So I wallowed. Thought about him all the time and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do now. And felt like I was drowning.

Keith came back on Thursday. I was working but Sarah called me. He was back in town. With an entourage.

I was sick with nerves. What would he say if I went to see him? What if I didn't? Just the thought of it and I froze up.

That Saturday the town held an annual fair. Normally I took charge of my brothers' sons and took them around but they were starting to grow up and wanting to run around with their friends and I had vague ideas of catching Keith and talking to him. God knows what I was going to say.

I saw his sister first. She was pretty eye catching, with her green star shaped sunglasses and silver sparkly sneakers. She was walking arm in arm with two other women, another two following with two guys who were meticulously groomed and dressed in a way that clearly marked them as from the city and probably gay. None of the others was dressed like Emma was.

Then I saw Keith. He was walking slightly behind them with a tall, blonde man, engaged in serious conversation.

As I stopped they all stopped and conferred for a moment. A blonde girl with Emma let go and gave the tall blonde man a tender kiss, cupping his face, then linked arms with Emma again and the girls wandered off together. The two guys spoke briefly to Keith, laughing, then they headed off as well. The big blonde man put his arm around Keith.

Hot jealousy swam through me. The blonde woman- she could have been the one in the photos the city cops had shown Keith. I'd only glimpsed one photo of Graeme, but this guy was him. I was sure of it.

And maybe Keith had been too good for me. But this guy- this guy did not deserve to be within the same country let alone touching him again.

The icy rage that coursed through my veins was of a strength that took me by surprise. I found myself striding up to them as they walking in my direction, and totally powerless to stop myself. Keith laughed at something he said, his face lighting up and I couldn't stand it. He saw me just as I reached them and his face fell. I half expected him to say hello, but he didn't. The blonde man kept grinning, probably hadn't even seen me. I had to do something -- anything -- to wipe the smile off his face. I grabbed the front of his shirt and roughly jerked him towards me. I didn't care that he was taller than me. I wasn't thinking anymore at that point.

"You! You stay away from him!" I snarled. He looked shocked. "You've already hurt him enough, you prick!"

"John -- let go!" Keith yelled at me, grabbing my arms and trying to push me away. I had a good grip on his shirt. I was not letting go.

"How could you do this?" I snarled at him instead. "How could you bring him here? Have him in your house?"

Keith stiffened. "I have the right to entertain whoever I like." He snapped coldly.

"Even a fuck like him?" Keith went red.

"Excuse me-" the tall blonde said tentatively. I shoved him away from me as hard as I could. He went down.

"John!" Keith yelled, giving the blonde a hand to his feet. The blonde wasn't quite ready, so Keith hauled him up rather than helping him much. I was shaking. With rage, jealousy, despair- I'm not sure.

The whole thing had taken a matter of seconds.

Keith grabbed my arm and dragged me behind the nearest stall, out of the eyes of the crowd. The blonde followed. I scowled at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Keith yelled. He shoved me. I barely felt it.

"You're here with him- and he had his arm around you- after everything he did! You forgive him that easily?"

Keith stared at me as if I were crazy, then comprehension dawned in his eyes. "You've got no right-" he sputtered. "You can't tell me who I can and can't see!"

"In case you've forgotten," I yelled, flinging an arm out to point at the blonde man.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 07



"He's not Graeme!" Keith shouted. Well. That was a slap in the face. "And even if he was," he went on in a lower voice, viciously. "Why would you attack him? Why would you try and protect me now when you didn't care enough to stand up for me when I needed you?" His words were a knife in my gut. He was right. What the fuck could I say to that? "John," he said plaintively, shaking his head. "Please. Just leave me alone."

He was begging.

That moment felt a lot like dying.

Keith fixed me with a last look, then he turned and walked away. The only action I could muster was to scowl at the blonde as he followed.

I stayed behind the stalls, sat down on a step, winded.

I still didn't know who he was. Or why he'd been kissing that girl and then had his hands on Keith. I was pretty sure Keith wouldn't ever speak to me again though. I was pretty sure I was out of chances. I'd had ideas about talking to Keith, but this... I didn't know what the hell to do now.

It didn't take long before Sarah found me.

"You and Keith had a fight?" she asked instantly. I nodded. "What happened? Is something- is this why you've both been acting weird?" I frowned at her. "John!" she said, grabbing my arm.

"Fine, yes! What do you want me to say?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded.

"What- tell you I'm the reason your new best friend won't speak to you and have you take his side and never speak to me again?" I asked bitterly.

"John!" she looked shocked. "What's wrong with you? You're my brother! Tell me what happened!"

"No." I said coldly.

"So you'd rather I heard it from Keith?" she asked.

"He won't tell you a thing." I said firmly. I knew he wouldn't, either. He'd promised and he'd keep that promise. That was just who he was.

Sarah glared at me, folded her arms. I stood up and walked away, left her there. Normally I was nicer. Normally I was patient and didn't offend everyone, but this whole thing had thrown me.

I kept seeing Keith laughing, the big-man-who-wasn't-Graeme's arm around his shoulders, feeling that hot, sickening jealousy and now feeling more despair than I had since I'd heard he'd left town. I hated the idea that he could leave me and find someone new so very quickly, but I knew it would happen- if not this time then sometime in the future. He would. He'd find that man who actually wanted to marry him and live with him and share his life with him. And it wouldn't be me.

The pressure around my chest was suffocating as it hit me.

Here I'd been, seeing Keith with him, wondering what I could say to make him stay with me. Wondering what the blonde guy had that I didn't, when that wasn't the question at all. The question was what he could give, that I couldn't? What could he offer, that I hadn't? And the answer was easy.

Everything.

Himself.

His honesty.

His life.

But I hadn't known, an inner voice tried to justify my actions. He'd never said a thing, so how had I been supposed to know what he wanted? But that was rubbish, really. I knew it was. It was all excuses and cowardice and pathetically transparent attempts to justify something that couldn't be justified at all.

And now I finally figured it out, figured out that I was so in love with him that the rest of the world didn't even matter anymore, and I'd lost him.

I'd lost everything.

Keith:

Tim steered me along. I wasn't seeing anything. I was reliving the fight. I was reliving those moments where, again, John might have come out and said something-anything. Except obviously he didn't feel like I did. Except that he'd bothered to attack Tim.

I didn't know what to think anymore.

I felt like I'd been living in a strange sort of limbo in the last few weeks and now, seeing John again had somehow brought me right back to where I was that Saturday. And now I had no idea what was going to happen.

"You ok?" Tim asked me finally. I nodded dumbly, and looked at him.

"I should be asking you that." I said slowly. John had torn his shirt, and his pants and shirt were dirty down the back where he'd landed on the ground. He smiled.

"I'm fine." He told me. He sounded sure, too.

Hot tears pricked the backs of my eyes. "This wasn't supposed to happen." I told him.

"Come on." he said and pulled me along to a quiet café off the main street. I hadn't been here. I'd become a regular at Jim's. I hoped Jim wouldn't take offence. Tim ordered coffees for us, then once we'd taken a table he pulled out his phone.

"Don't." I begged, grabbing his hand. He stopped. "Don't tell them. Please. Em's already worried enough about me. It's fine, really. Please. I'm fine." He pursed his lips and put his phone away.

"Keith." He said quietly.

"Please." I repeated. "Let's just have our coffee, then go out and pretend that nothing happened." He didn't look happy with this idea but I was determined not to give him a choice. I wanted to enjoy the day, not have Emma make me go home again or fly into a rage and out John to the whole street.

He frowned at me, but didn't move to call anyone yet. I fidgeted until the young girl brought our coffees over, then tried to drink some. I must have burnt half my tastebuds off.

"Ok." I said when I could talk again. "I want to be back at the stage for the presentations." Tim nodded slowly.

"Alright. Where did Martin and Chris go?"

"I think they were checking out the craft stalls. They're decorating their house."

"Ok. So we can see the presentation and then find them and the girls and then find something to eat."

"You don't have to come to the presentation. I want to go because my friends from the cooking group are all competing against each other, but you might find it boring. Maybe you should go and find Alison."

"Mm." A very noncommittal response.

"Tim, I'm fine." I assured him again. I wasn't sure I actually was. I felt... numb, beyond anything else.

"Yeah. Ok." He said doubtfully. "Well. We'll see. I want to check out some of those stalls, too. We'll go past them on the way to the stage." I didn't think he was going to leave me alone now no matter what I said so I shrugged and agreed.

I really didn't want to make a big deal out of this.

I just wanted to pretend that everything was ok. And then maybe if I pretended hard enough, it would be.

John:

I kept an eye out for Keith while avoiding Sarah. I was still trying to figure out who this blonde guy was and why he kept putting his arm around Keith and touching his arms and placing his hand against his back. I was wondering if Keith would smile at me like that if I was brave enough to walk around in the open with my arm around him.

Figuring out what an idiot I was had given me this feverish sort of energy. I'd never felt like this before. Restless and nervous and determined to fix this and the consequences be damned- all at once.

I just needed to find Keith.

Everyone was starting to gather at the main stage for the presentations. It wasn't like there were prizes- but the fact of winning meant something around here.

I stood in the shadows right next to the stage, scanning the crowd. Keith was there with the blonde. They were talking quietly together. The blonde was still touching him.

At least Keith wasn't touching him back.

Gloria took out the prize for cakes. She usually did. I was surprised Keith hadn't won it. I'd wanted him to win. I'd planned on grabbing him as he walked off stage and pulling him into the shadows and then... well. I hadn't got further than that. But it didn't matter, since he wasn't going up on stage. Now I had to rethink my plans.

Gloria went up on stage and shook the principal's hand. He was acting as the mc for the whole event.

"Just want to say thank you to the judges!" she called into the microphone. She was still yelling into it, after all these years. I was sure people had explained to her before that she didn't need to do that, but she still persisted. "Also to Keith, where are you Keith? I couldn't have done it without you, Keith! You deserve some of the credit since if you'd entered I wouldn't be up here this year! You've taught me more about cooking this year than I've learnt in a long time!"

There was a scattered applause, and I saw the smile on Keith's face as Gloria beamed at him.

What the hell did I need a plan for? I suddenly knew what I had to do. And there was no planning, no engineering things to get Keith on his own, no prepared excuses. This was it. Here. And now.

I jumped up the steps and grabbed the microphone from Gloria before the principal could get his hands on it.

"I have something to add." I said. My voice was curiously strong and steady given the shaky feeling in my arms and legs.

The principal blinked at me. "John- I'm sure we could- but not right now, we're in the middle of-"

"Yeah, well, too bad." I sounded abrupt and I knew it, but the words were bubbling up inside me, finally coming out and there didn't seem to be much need for conscious decision making. I couldn't have stopped the words, even if I'd wanted to. Everything I'd pushed back for so long was overflowing out of me, rushing out of me in a torrent of words which I didn't even know were nonsensical or not anymore, but I couldn't hold them back. "This is the most important thing I've ever said in my life so the best thing you could all do is just pipe down and listen up." The crowd sort of shuffled, all those eyes flicking back and forth between me and the principal. They made no difference. I was going to say what I should have said long ago.

"Gloria here has told you all what a great cook Keith Draper is and how much he's taught her, but that's not all he's done. He's succeeded in teaching our boys how to kick one of those round balls for one thing and he's been there for those kids when no one else was stepping up to the plate. But there's a lot the rest of us can learn from him too." Keith was looking at me, his expression wary. I fixed the image of him in my mind, looked back out at the crowd. "He's one of the most compassionate and caring people I know. He's completely honest with the world and not afraid to be himself. His arrival here has changed my life in ways I couldn't even have dreamed of a year ago. His confidence, integrity and calm are things I can only envy. And the most amazing thing about Keith? He loves wholeheartedly and unconditionally. He loves without holding anything back, without asking anything in return. He believes in love so strongly that he's prepared to do anything for it, to compromise everything. And he shouldn't have to. Because love isn't supposed to be like that. So I have something to say. To everyone here. And to Keith."

I looked back and found him again in the crowd, looking at me as if there was no one else in the whole street. My heart pounded against my ribs. I drew a breath. "I'm sorry. I messed up. I could make so many excuses. But I won't, because you've been right this whole time and I've been too much of a coward and too big of an idiot to see it. You've given me so many chances and I just keep letting you slip away. So I'm begging your forgiveness. Keith, I'm begging you to forgive me for being so damned thick. And I'm begging you to come back to me, because- Keith Draper, I'm in love with you."

The silence should have rung but it didn't. The street was still alive with laughter and talk, chintzy music and yelling. It was only the crowd right before the stage that was staring at me with open mouths. I didn't care. I only had eyes for Keith.

He wasn't smiling.

I shoved the microphone back at Gloria and jumped off the stage. I had to get to Keith.

Why wasn't he smiling? What had I done wrong?

My cheeks were burning and I had some vague awareness of what I'd just done, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered unless Keith forgave me. I pushed through the crowd, silent as statues, and found Keith before me.

Keith looked up at me, his eyes overly bright with tears. I reached out to him, to pull him into my arms.

He held up a hand to stop me. I went cold all over.

"Keith. I-"

"What do you want?" he demanded in a small voice. I stared at him.

What did I want? I wanted- "Everything." I managed, remembering the last time I'd seen him, at the park. "Move in with me. Or I'll move in with you. We'll get a dog, we'll adopt some kids- I'll buy you a ring if that's-"

"No,-" he said, shaking his head.

"Keith, I love you." I interrupted him. He couldn't refuse me. Could he? If he did, everything had been a waste. I suddenly felt desolate and realised that this must have been how Keith felt about our time together when I'd ruined everything and failed him all in an instant.

Maybe I deserved this. If this was some sick kind of divine retribution for being such a dick before, then this was an awful irony.

"I don't need a ring." Keith said quietly, wiping his eyes. Relief made me weak. The world apart from Keith was swimming. "And I'm certainly not ready for kids."

"You forgive me?" I begged. I needed to be sure. "Babe-"

Keith nodded. That was all I needed. I pulled him into my arms and crushed him against me. His feet weren't touching the ground and he pressed his face against my neck and shoulder and he started to laugh. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. I was not going to let him go. Not now. Not ever.

I gently placed him back on his feet and Keith pulled back to look up at me, still laughing, and all of I sudden I had to do more. To really show him how serious I was. I brushed a kiss across his lips. Keith smiled at me, eyes dancing. Neither of us were under any pretences. We both knew I'd done it on purpose.

"Kiss me again," he demanded in a whisper, arms sliding around my neck. I didn't need any more prompting than that. I'd been wanting to do little else for weeks. This time, I kissed him properly.

I only stopped because people started whistling and cat calling, and the principal cleared his throat. He'd obviously got the microphone back from Gloria and was prepared to take over proceedings again. He announced that they would be returning to the awards presentations. Keith grinned at me, very pink and rested his forehead against mine, just held onto me.

"I love you." I whispered. I needed him to know and to believe it. I didn't want him to doubt me, ever again.

"I love you too." He whispered back. His warm breath made me shiver.

"I'm sorry." I managed. There was so much to apologise for that I didn't see how he could ever forgive me.

"John," Keith breathed.

"I'm so sorry. I know I'm an idiot and I just... need you to know how much I missed you. I realised I can't do this anymore. It's never-"

"John." Keith repeated, brushing his lips against mine. "It's ok. You did it. It doesn't matter anymore. You're here now."

I swallowed hard. "How can you forgive me so easily?" I didn't mean to blurt it out, but I was glad I asked the question.

Keith's expression softened. "I forgive you." He said softly, firmly. With such sincerity that something inside me relaxed.

I found myself smiling at him stupidly. We were standing in the middle of a curious crowd professing our love to one another and grinning at each other. I had the thought that it was time to move.

"Come back to my house. Yours is full of people. And I don't want to share." I whispered. "Stay over. We'll make breakfast and-" Keith looked up at me, smiling. He'd never stayed over at my place before. He'd barely ever been there at all.

"Ok." He agreed. "I'd better give Tim or Emma the key first, though." I nodded reluctantly. I didn't want the delay, but if they couldn't get into Keith's house they'd either break in or annoy Sarah. Or come and find us. None of those options really appealed to me.

I kissed him again for good measure, then linked my hand through his and began to make my way with him through the crowd.

"So where will-" I began to ask where he thought they'd be, but Keith's hand tightened in mine and he stopped. I looked in front of us and stopped as well.

The blonde guy was standing staring at us with a sort of bemused expression on his face, a phone next to his ear, but he wasn't talking. Who the fuck was this guy, anyway? I frowned at him, and he muttered something into the phone and hung up.

"Uh..." Keith said as we walked towards him, which I thought summed things up rather nicely.

"John, right?" the blonde man said with a grin, looking me over. "We were never introduced. Glad to see you've come around." I was too taken aback to glare at him. If he and Keith had something going on then surely Keith wouldn't have told him about us... and he wouldn't be happy that I'd 'come around'. "Tim." He introduced himself and stuck his hand out and I bit my cheek and shook.

"Tim's a friend from the city." Keith said anxiously. "He and his girlfriend came down with some of my other friends to stay for a few days." So the blonde girl was his girlfriend. I still didn't like the way he'd been all over Keith, but I couldn't think of any way to question it. Not when I was so clearly the person in the wrong.

"Sorry about your shirt."I said stiffly instead. I hadn't realised I'd ripped it. Tim grinned.

"That's ok. I'll pass it on. It's well deserved." I wondered what that meant and watched him suspiciously.

"Tim is... Tim is Graeme's brother." Keith finally said. Ah. Well, no wonder I'd thought he looked like the photo. Although I could admit that being blonde was enough of a resemblance for me to leap to the same conclusion.

Tim let go of my hand and put his hand on Keith's arm. "Tim." Keith said. "Can I give you the key to my house?" he asked. He was going red. I grinned. "I'm going to go back to John's. You'll let everyone in?" Tim nodded and took the key.

"Sure?" he said doubtfully.

"On the plus side, there's an extra bed now." Tim grinned. "No kinky straight stuff in my bed, got it?" Keith suddenly said firmly, his expression dark. Tim just laughed. Keith started telling him where things were in the cupboards. I was focussed on the feel of his hand in mine; the adrenaline rush of being here, in public, holding his hand.

"Why's uncle John holding hands with that man?" That voice... Charlie or Sam or Callum? My eldest nephews were all between six and ten and all sounded so similar. Who was here? Al or Mike or Sarah? A cold tremor went through me.

I looked up. My eldest brother was only a couple of meters away. His two sons were staring at me. Charlie was only six, looked all wide eyed innocence. Ollie was ten, old enough to understand a bit more . He looked surprised, confused.

I looked at Al. He gave me a look of disgust, of disbelief. I met his gaze. My heart raced. I didn't look away.

"Dad?" Little Charlie repeated. "Uncle John is-"

"He's not your uncle!" Al suddenly snarled, grabbed both boys by their shoulders and started pushing them away through the crowd.

Both of them looked back at me.

I managed a smile and a wave, hoped it looked convincing. I wasn't sure it did.

"You done?" I asked Keith, and he gave me a black look, but grinned at Tim. I didn't think he'd noticed what had just happened. "We'll see you tomorrow." I said to Tim. "Lunchtime. We'll fire up Keith's barbie." Tim just nodded blankly and I pulled Keith along with me. I expected him to laugh, but he slipped his arm around my waist and looked up at me.

"Barbecue?" He questioned. I nodded.

"Unless you don't want me to meet your friends." I said, but I sounded stiff and sharp even to myself.

"I'd love you to. But you don't have to, yet." He said, and he sounded so sincere that I believed him.

I couldn't think of what to say next.

"Are you ok?" Keith finally asked, in a very small voice.

I looked down at him, his worried eyes, his wary expression.

We weren't doing this again.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 07



I squeezed his hand and drew a deep calming breath. "I just need to get out of the crowd, babe." I answered. Keith smiled, nodded.

I heaved a sigh of relief as we past the oval, felt some of the tension I'd been carrying leave my neck and shoulders. Keith leant against me as we walked, smiled up at me with a goofy grin, and I felt better.

Some of the boys were playing around with a couple of soccer balls. One came in our direction. I half expected Keith to run and get it but he left it, and two boys sprinted over.

One of them stopped. Joel looked at both of us, looked at Keith with a question in his eyes.

"He's out." Keith laughed, grinning. Obviously holding hands wasn't clue enough. All the same, the words hit me hard.

I was out.

After spending what felt like my whole life so far hiding from the truth, I was out.

Joel grinned at us, then sprinted back off with the others.

"What, he knew?" I asked suddenly. It didn't matter; I was just surprised.

"Yeah." Keith answered with a smile. "He saw us. In the shed that time."

"What the hell was he doing in your back yard?" I demanded.

"I don't actually know. I didn't ask." Keith said, sounding surprised.

I looked at him and laughed. He smiled and I took the chance to kiss him.

We walked quickly to my house in silence. I hoped his thoughts were occupied with the same things mine were.

I was glad my house was clean. I'd done quite a bit of cleaning over the last few weeks. I'd needed a distraction and now I was extra happy I'd chosen domestic chores rather than some project in my shed.

I shut the door behind us and pushed Keith against the wall. I couldn't believe he was here. I couldn't believe that he'd forgiven me already, that he was looking at me with an expression I'd really thought I'd never see on his face again.

He parted his lips and moved as if to meet me for a kiss, but I passed over his mouth and kissed along his cheekbone. Keith groaned, but his hands gripped my shoulders firmly. I bit his ear and felt him shiver, but he arched his neck to give me better access. I nibbled my way down the graceful line of his throat, delicately licked that spot below his ear I liked so much, then trailed my tongue to the corner of his neck and shoulder. I bit him, loved his gasp and the way his hands flexed on my shoulders. I sucked his smooth warm skin hard, heard him moan and pant before I moved back and licked the love bite I'd given him. He was going to have a few more of those before I was done.

I slid my hands under his shirt and stroked my hands up his torso as I pulled his shirt over his head. I took the opportunity to look him over again. He'd lost weight. His ribs were showing more, his jeans hung lower on his hips. I kicked myself inwardly. I'd done this to him.

"It doesn't matter." Keith whispered, kissing my face. He'd obviously figured out what I was looking at.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again anyway, and lowered my lips back to his skin. I made a special point of kissing every single one of his ribs. I was going to learn how to cook properly. I was going to feed him up again. This time, I was going to give him everything.

I slowly kissed my way down the centre of his stomach. I flickered my tongue in and out of his belly button, loved the way his body arched and his muscles flinched. I moved lower, listening to the hitch in his breathing, but I only reached the waist of his jeans before I stood up again and claimed his lips for a deep, demanding kiss. Keith wrapped his arms around me and pressed himself closer. I freed his hair from its tie, slid my fingers over his scalp. Keith moaned softly.

"Shoes off." I murmured and we struggled to get them off while remaining clinging to each other. "Couch." I hissed then, and we stumbled across the room to the couch. I lay on top of Keith, straddled his legs and rubbed my denim clad erection against his. He jerked and moaned and I bit his nipple to make him thrash even more.

"John," he groaned. "John..." I sucked his skin and enjoyed the way he caught his breath, intent upon grinding against him until he came. Who cared if he didn't have any other clothes with him? Seeing him wear mine all day tomorrow knowing his were stained with cum would be hot as hell.

Keith whimpered at the same moment there was a knock. We both stopped still. I did not want to answer the door. Not now. Not for at least eighteen hours. I bent my head to kiss Keith again, but the knocking returned, more insistent.

"I heard you!" A voice called loudly. "I know you're in there."

I swore and reluctantly got up, tried to adjust my crotch so I looked half way decent opening the door but I think I failed.

It was Sarah. She pushed past me into the house and saw Keith. He was just sitting up from where he'd been lying on the couch. His hair was beautifully mussed already, and if that and his swollen lips weren't proof enough of what we'd been doing then his shirtless state and the vivid love bites I'd just given him were a small clue.

I stood silently. This was what I'd been dreading.

Sarah looked between us for long moments, then finally sucked in a breath.

"So it's true." She said faintly.

I nodded. She stared at me like I was a stranger.

"Sarah," I said gently, afraid and sick at the thought she might hate me. She was different from the rest of my family, though. Surely...

"I can see I'm interrupting." She said frostily, and turned back to the door.

"Barbecue." Keith said rather stupidly. I blinked.

"Right. Sarah. Barbecue at Keith's. Lunchtime tomorrow. You'll come?" I felt like I was begging. She pursed her lips and looked me up and down. Christ.

She adjusted her bag over her arm and turned to go without a response.

"John?" Keith asked. He was probably wondering why I was watching my sister head back to her car when he was sitting half naked on my couch. And now I was wondering that too.

"C'mon, babe." I said, holding my hand out to him and shutting and bolting the door. No more interruptions. "Let's go to my room."

"John." Keith said very softly. I looked at him. His expression was serious. He beckoned me back to the couch and I found my legs carrying me there.

He looked so worried, so sad. Seeing his expression brought everything back.

"John, my love," Keith whispered, standing up and wrapping his arms around me. I didn't want him to see my face, didn't want him to see my tears. I pressed my face against the side of his neck. "It's ok," he breathed, rubbing my shoulders like I'd rubbed his. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"What for?" I asked. My voice was rough, but I blinked rapidly and pulled back to look at him. Why should he be sorry?

Keith looked up at me, dull fear in his eyes. I swallowed hard. He reached out and cupped the side of my face. "I'm sorry things aren't easy. I'm sorry Sarah -- she probably just needs to get her head around it, though. It's a big change. And I'm sorry your family is..."

"No." I shook my head and kissed him. I did not need him to doubt me. Not now. "I love you." I managed. "I want this. I don't regret this. But it's still..."

"I know." He answered softly, squeezing my fingers. "It's not going to be easy. But you can do it. I'm here."

I wrapped him in my arms. I wasn't going back. I wanted him to know what this meant to me; what he meant to me.

Keith held me close, then pulled away. "Let's make a drink." He said softly, pulling me by my hand into my kitchen.

"Cups?" he asked, flicking the kettle on. I got them out of the cupboard and passed them over. "Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Do you have any chocolate powder?"

"No."

"What? Not even Milo?" I laughed shakily.

"Nope, not even."

"Huh." Keith said, blinking at me, as if he'd taken it for granted that everyone in the country surely had a tin of Milo stashed away somewhere. I laughed again. "How about real chocolate? Any of that?"

"Yeah." I pulled a block of good chocolate out of the cupboard and his eyes lit up. He grinned at me and took it. I watched him set things up to melt the chocolate and my mouth watered.

"I missed you so much." I told him.

Keith turned around and hugged me tight. "I missed you too." He murmured into my chest.

He finally gave a deep, happy sigh and looked up at me. He gave me a kiss, then turned to open the fridge.

He stopped with his hand on the door.

My fridge was where I stuck important photos. And obviously he'd seen them.

After a moment I pulled him back into my arms, holding him close against me.

If I wanted to share my life with him, then I had to be honest with him. I had to learn to talk to him.

I cleared my throat. "This is my eldest brother, Al." I said softly. "His wife, Penny. And their kids. Charlie and Oliver. That's Jonathan there, he snuck in. He's in this one with Sarah and Chris and Cal and Jessie as well. And this is my other older brother, Mike, with his wife, Marie. And their kids, Sam, Will and Lewis."

"All boys?" Keith sounded surprised. Apart from Sarah's one little girl, he was right.

"Yeah." I agreed. "You should be around at Christmas time." The whole house full of them, hyper on presents and sugar...

Except that this year I doubted that I'd be invited at all.

I drew a deep breath but I couldn't hold back my grief. These kids were so much a part of my life... the only reasons I saw my brothers at all. "I'll probably never see them again." I admitted to Keith roughly.

"Hey," Keith said softly, turning around, but his eyes were sad and he didn't have anything else to add. Instead he just held me tight and let me crush him against me.

I loved him more than I'd ever thought possible.

We didn't make it to the bedroom. We got close, but I was pulling his clothes off as we went, which rather slowed our progress. Then I pushed him against the wall and started my oral exploration of his body all over again.

"John, love," Keith hissed on a shuddering breath. He came hard and I swallowed it all, let him thrust into my throat as he peaked. I'd gotten a whole lot better at that.

I caught him as he slid against the wall and kissed him softly.

To have him here, in my house, in my arms... this was a gift. I almost couldn't believe this was happening.

He smiled at me, a secretive smile, full of wickedness and love and life. "You never brought anyone home before?" He breathed.

I shook my head.

His smile grew and he slid a hand down my chest, over my stomach, inside the waistband of my jeans. "Make love to me in your bed." He whispered tenderly, rubbing my cockhead lightly with his fingertips.

I nodded, watched his face. He looked wildly happy. Happier than I'd ever seen him.

It made my chest all tight. It made me scared, which seemed ridiculous considering he was here and he'd forgiven me for my idiocy. How could I not have been this scared of losing him before?

I stared at him for a moment, I guess until he realised I wasn't really with him anymore. Then Keith wrapped his arms around my neck and held me tight.

"I missed you so much." I found myself repeating. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here, how much I need you and how-"

"Hey," he whispered, sliding his fingers into my hair and kissing my cheeks, rubbing his nose against mine. "John, it's ok. It's fine. I'm here. I love you." He was kissing my lips again and I pushed him back against the wall so I could kiss him more deeply as instinct took over.

Keith giggled softly, looking at me through his lashes. "Take me to bed, lover." He said coyly.

My bed was fairly old and obviously needed something tightening. Of course, by the time I was inside him and the squeaking was particularly noticeable I wasn't about to do anything about it. Especially not with the way Keith was pulling me deeper inside him, pleading in whispers for more.

"Harder," he moaned, and I laughed into his neck.

"Babe, I'm afraid the bed might fall apart," I admitted to him. Keith giggled, stroking his hands up my belly and chest, teasing my nipples.

"You can sleep in mine," he offered, reaching above his head with one hand to brace himself on the headboard, and reaching the other hand behind my head.

"And what if we break the wall, too?" I asked between breaths. The bed was hitting it with increasing regularity.

"Move in with me," Keith gasped. "Wake up with me every morning."

"Really?" I asked. I was so close.

"Yes... John..." Keith groaned, suddenly giving a cry.

"Yes..." I moaned as he came hard between us, his legs tightening around me. I hissed it again as I came deep inside him.

I slowly let my weight rest on top of him, Keith's arms wrapped around me.

"Did you mean it?" I asked as we caught our breath.

Keith looked at me, smiled.

"Of course I meant it. I'm not living in your teeny brick bungalow when I bought the nicest house ever just the other side of town and spent months getting it the way I like it. But you don't have to right away."

I looked down at him. What was this house anyway, other than a place to come home to after work? Keith's house was a home, a place to live. I imagined setting up my stuff in that garage out in his yard, putting my dvds on the shelf next to his, fighting with him over whose furniture we were going to keep and which cupboard in the kitchen was best for what and I was suddenly sure that that was what I wanted.

"Yeah." I said slowly. I wasn't sure if I was exhilarated or terrified or maybe even both, but my mind was made up. I was in this, and I was in this wholeheartedly. I was throwing myself into this with everything I had and everything I was, starting now. "I guess we had better wait a bit." He nodded, but I thought he looked slightly disappointed.

"Yeah." He agreed. "What you did today... that was a pretty big step." I grinned at him.

"I think it just might be a bit tricky moving my stuff over while you've still got a house full of guests." I told him, ignoring what he'd said.

Keith licked his lips. "What?" He said dumbly.

"When are they all going home?" I asked.

"Uh, most of them on Sunday or Monday but... they'll all be gone by Friday."

"Good." I said, kissing him lightly. "Friday it is."

Keith:

Waking up spooned against John for only the second time was one of my two top morning wake ups ever.

For someone who'd never really spent the night with anyone, he was really really good at knowing exactly how to lie so we were both comfy. I woke up with John right up close behind me, his arm loosely around me.

I sighed, planning on lying there a lot longer. I loved this time of morning. The cosiness and sleepy arousal. John made a shushing noise and kissed the back of my neck which made me giggle.

"Morning." I whispered.

"Hi." He answered, finding my hand under the blankets and twining our fingers. "You're awake."

"Uh huh." I agreed. I was so warm and so comfortable and so relaxed.

John kissed the back of my neck gently, nuzzled my shoulder.

I woke up some more. Was he just feeling frisky or did he need something more along the lines of reassurance? Comfort?

"How do you feel?" I whispered, shifting onto my back so I could see him. I touched his cheek and saw the sudden look of pain in his eyes.

"Fine." He said instantly. It seemed more of a reflex than a real answer. I stroked his cheek and John let out a breath sharply, let his head drop and rest against my shoulder.

"Kind of shocked." He admitted really quietly, shifting onto me and holding me. I ran my fingers through his hair. I felt oddly calm- John had never talked about these sorts of things before. This was moving forward. "This is... a wonderful way to wake up. But I... Keith... I-"

I kissed the side of his head and cradled him against me.

"It's ok," I told him softly, pressing another kiss to his head. "I know. It'll be ok, though. Right now, it's hard, but... you did an amazing thing for me, and I will never, ever forget it. But it did happen fast and you're going to need some time. But I understand, and I'm here for you. And you can talk to me about anything."

John looked up at me with a smile, looking a lot more relaxed. "You're amazing." He told me.

I blinked. I wasn't used to John telling me things like that. "Thanks." I said with an awkward laugh.

John grinned at me. "Seriously." He said. "You are. Everyone can see it. And- I love you."

"I love you." I repeated, my heart swelling, smiling like an idiot. He leant over me, brushed a kiss against my lips.

"I don't think I ever did anything to deserve you." John murmured.

I laughed. "That's not how it works."

"Good. I guess I'll stop worrying about that then."

"Do you worry about that?" I asked, surprised. I traced the curve of his eyebrow and the side of his face.

"I did," John finally answered. "I... But I don't think I'll worry about that so much now that- now that I'm out."

I couldn't help the grin that took over my face. Luckily John grinned back at me.

He kissed me again, hungrily this time. I felt the way he rubbed his hips against mine, found that slow arousal suddenly making the leap into full hardness. I held him close as we rubbed against each other for long moments. The morning felt warm, and the light was golden. This felt like the perfect start to the first day of the rest of our lives.

I pulled back and rolled to retrieve the condoms and lube from his bedside table.

John moved up right behind me, kissing my shoulders.

"Can we get rid of these?" I found myself asking. "Go and get tested and never use them again?" John's mouth curved into a smile. I'd never asked in all the months we'd been together, since I'd been pretty sure he'd have refused on the basis that going to his doctor and asking for a test would have revealed something he wasn't prepared for.

"Sounds good," he murmured back. His fingers slid down the centre of my back, down to my pucker. "I need you so much," he breathed against my neck.

"Need you too." I responded, passing him the condom and smiling at him. I was on my side, my shoulders twisted in the opposite direction to my hips. John was behind me, but I could kiss him, and his groin was right behind my butt.

"I don't think I could do this without you." John whispered, an odd catch in his tone. I turned to look at him more. His eyes were dark. Afraid?

"I'm here," I whispered back, reaching back and touching his cheek, drawing him into a kiss. "I'm here for you. Always, John." He claimed my lips and kissed me with passion and need. I reached down and found him fumbling to put on the condom. I helped him roll it down his length and gave him a gentle squeeze. He groaned softly and kissed me again. "Here, my love," I slicked him up with lube and then hooked my top leg behind his.

"Keith," John breathed my name as I guided him home. I was still relaxed enough from the last night's love making that I took him in without difficulty. "Keith," he groaned softly.

"There," I managed, drawing air deep into my lungs and clutching the pillow with my other arm. "That's it. All the way, John."

John let out a soft noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan, placed his hand over mine and moved his hips until his skin was flush with mine. "Keith," he repeated again, his voice rough.

"I've got you." I kissed him softly. "I've got you, John." He filled me, held me tight.

"Ouunghh... Keith. I'm so sorry... I missed you so much..." He seemed to be becoming more emotional and not less. "I love you and I messed up so bad," he went on, squeezing me closer instead of making love to me.

"Hush," I reached back again and cradled the side of his face. I felt the wetness on his cheek against mine. "We're here now. It's ok, John. Everything's ok." He drew deep breaths and I fought the urgency rising within me. Rocked my hips back against his to try and gently remind him what he was supposed to be doing.




Coming Out with the Truth Ch. 07



"I need you so much," he whispered again. His voice was deeper, huskier. I was pretty sure we'd changed subjects. He began to move against me, sliding out and pushing back inside me with the utmost tenderness.

"You've got me," I answered, closing my eyes as John's hand slid down from my hip and began stroking my aching length. His movements were getting stronger and more sure and I was losing track of all the things I'd been going to say to him. Instead I think I only babbled as my nerves lit up and heat swept through my body. "John, I'm yours. Always. I'm here, my love, I'm here."

John kissed me, pressing his body closer and wrapping himself around me. But this was getting sort of uncomfortable.

"Love, let me roll over," I whispered. John pulled out of me without saying a word, let me shift onto my back. I hooked my legs around him as he lowered himself again, wrapped my arms around his neck.

I could feel the head of his cock against me, moved against it.

"John," I breathed, kissing his cheeks. He reached down and pushed back inside me. Back home. "I missed you so much," I whispered, pulling him closer.

John gave a choked noise and kissed me, continued his rocking motion and the gentle friction between us.

"Keith," he groaned softly against my neck.

"Yes, John." I whispered. My eyes were squeezed shut and I was clinging to him as if he was my only hope of survival. I think he was holding me just as tight. "Yes..."

Every breath I took shuddered in my chest. My body trembled, awash with sensation.

"Keith, I love you." He gasped, hitting the bundle of nerves inside me again and again and I had to moan. This was too much. Too much being said and too much being felt.

"John," I wanted to reply, to tell him how much I loved him too, but I found his hand slipping between us to stroke me again and I forgot how to speak.

A few panting gasps and whimpers later and I came. My body tightened around him and I cried his name as the world faded to white-hot brightness around me - and John followed me over the edge with a hoarse moan and a shudder.

I drew deep breaths and stroked the smooth skin of his back and shoulders.

"I love you." John finally whispered, his head resting against my shoulder.

"I love you," I echoed, holding him tight, trying to hold him inside me for as long as I could.

John smiled and rubbed his nose against mine with a soft sigh. He seemed much calmer now, much happier.

"I should have been promising you all that." He murmured finally. I giggled.

"If you want to, I won't say no." I said lightly, but my heart was full and my body was floating.

John kissed me, looked at me with warmth, with love. I couldn't stop smiling.

"Anything." He said with a bemused sort of air. "But I don't even know where to start."

"We'll figure it out." I told him, but I didn't care. Not really. Not when he'd already agreed to move in with me, had offered me a dog and a ring and children. A life together.

That was everything I'd ever hoped for and more.

John bent and kissed me again. "Everything." He murmured, as much to himself as to me.

And there was nothing else in the world that I could possibly want.

I smiled and kissed him again.

Once we'd showered and been through John's clothes and found me a t-shirt that fit me halfway decently we decided that I was going to have to stick with my jeans from the day before. Anything of John's just wouldn't have fitted well enough to pass as mine. Although it wasn't like it really mattered since they were probably going to figure out that the t-shirt wasn't mine pretty quickly anyway.

We drove to the supermarket and got some food, but John suggested we walk over to my house, which I thought was a good idea, since if there was any alcohol we might need it to get through the afternoon, and then we wouldn't want to be driving.

As we walked, John chatted as much as usual (which means, not as much as me). It was pretty clear that he was nervous despite what he'd said the previous day. I was too. I just tried not to let him see it.

He drew a deep breath in the street outside my house. I stopped and looked at my house with him.

John looked at me with a smile I hadn't expected. "Well." He said. "I guess you'd better take me in and introduce me to your friends."

I grinned back. "They'll all be very excited to finally meet my mysterious boyfriend." I told him lightly. I was suddenly aware neither of us had used that word yet, but I was pretty sure John would smile.

He did. And pulled me into his arms. "You know," he said slowly. "I'm pretty sure I didn't come out for a boyfriend."

He was still smiling and his tone was warm, but I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"What?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too hesitant or confused.

John kissed me lightly, rested his forehead against mine. "I think I'd rather have a partner. Or a husband. Or even a fiancé. But a boyfriend? Nah."

"Really?" I asked slowly. I wasn't sure why this surprised me quite so much, but it did.

John nodded. "Always. Forever. Everything."

My heart soared. I was suddenly sure that they were just about the three best words in the English language.

"I love you." John added.

Oh. Apart from those three words.

"I love you too." I kissed him back and grinned at him.

Then he took hand and led me up to the door.

He was smiling and relaxed again. I guessed he was going to swing back and forth a bit between being confident and laid back and being worried, but I thought it was natural. And I was sure that everything would be fine.

All the same, I felt more nervous than John as he rang the bell.

Emma in particular had the potential to make this really difficult. I didn't know what Sarah was going to do, either. For John's sake I hoped she was going to be good about it. I suspected she would be, since she hadn't attacked either of us the last night, but I wasn't sure. She wasn't just John's sister. She was also his best friend.

As it turned out I needn't have worried. Tim opened the door for us (it felt pretty weird being let into my own house) and grinned evilly. I held John's hand tightly. He gripped my hand just as tightly in response.

We stepped into the hall and I heard Emma's piercing wolf whistle before I even saw her peering round at us from the kitchen. There was a burst of muffled laughter, and I led John through.

Emma was supervising in the kitchen (well, her and Sarah) and she led my friends in a round of whistling and hooting.

"Thanks, Em." I said dryly. She beamed.

"John." She said, ignoring me and extending her hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah. You too." He said awkwardly, and went to shake her hand. She pulled her usual trick and hugged him instead.

"Ok." I said when she'd let him go and had hugged me too. "John, this is Martin and Chris, Lisa, Sal and Beatrice... Everyone, this is John." The girls all smiled and looked pretty pleased to see him, but Martin looked suspicious and aloof. Yeah, he would. Martin could hold a grudge like no one else I knew. I decided to throw it out there. Just in case. "And you had all better be nice to him." I threatened. I'd meant to add a threat, such as withholding dessert or something equally horrendous, but I saw Sarah coming towards us and stopped. I held my breath, but she just looked at John. She took his arm and led him out of the kitchen, the same time I recognised another couple of people coming into the kitchen from outside, where there appeared to be more people. Joel, Gordon, Gloria and Sarah's Chris along with Zack; I hadn't known he was coming.

"Hi." I said to them, more than slightly taken aback.

"Finally?" Zack asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

I nodded, letting out a breath and grinning. "Yeah."

John:

When Sarah gently but firmly pulled me out of the kitchen I felt sick.

The relief I felt when she hugged me was palpable.

"You never did do things the easy way, did you?" she asked, voice muffled.

"No." I said with a grin, holding her tight against me.

"How come you never said?" she asked, looking up. There was hurt in her eyes, no matter how nice she was being. "How come you never told me?"

"I didn't think there was any point." I admitted. "Not when I made it beyond thirty without meeting anyone I really cared about and I never expected to meet anyone I'd actually feel something for. I never thought it would happen. So it was easier just to ... I'm sorry." I said. "I should have told you first."

"You didn't have to tell me first. But telling me might have been nice."

"Yeah. Sorry." she shook her head as if it didn't matter.

"Christ." She moaned suddenly.

"What?" I asked. She sighed.

"When Callum next asks me why you're not married I'm going to let you explain it to him." I laughed.

"Yeah. Ok." I agreed, way too easily. It wouldn't take her too long to retract that demand. Not when she figured out what else I could tell a curious kid.

She hugged me again. "God, John." she murmured. "This is so not going to go down well."

"Well," I said, trying hard to sound like I didn't care. "It's not like we ever really liked Mike or Al anyway." I named our two brothers. I'd never really got on with them, and I really disliked their wives. I didn't know why I cared so much what they thought of me despite that, but the fact was that it hurt.

Sarah pulled away from me and stared at me, then covered her mouth and laughed.

"I saw Al yesterday. He was there." I finally admitted. Sarah looked at me with worried eyes. "He told Ollie and Charlie I wasn't his uncle anymore. Charlie was asking him..." I remembered Ollie looking at me with those big eyes, Al steering them both away before they could even get close.

"John..." she said helplessly. I knew she was worried about me. I shrugged.

"It's fine, Sarah." I lied. "I'll be fine. I've got Keith now."

The smile that lit her face was enormous. She punched my arm. "I'm so happy!" she said. "You've finally got someone!" I rubbed my arm but grinned back at her.

"Yeah." I agreed. "He's... I'm moving in with him." Sarah gaped at me and then shook her head, smiling.

"Wow." She said, and hugged me tight. I held her back. I'd been pretty sure she'd be ok with this, and I was glad. Losing the rest of the family was enough. "You certainly don't do things by half measures."

I laughed. "No. You weren't at the presentation when I came out?"

"No. Gloria told me all about it. She just about burst with pride. But that's ok. There's a video, apparently."

The ground dipped beneath my feet. "There's a what now?" I blurted in shock. Christ, I was glad I hadn't known that at the time!

Sarah laughed. "And I'm sure Penny will be reasonable." She said, already launching into her brusque organising mode. "And if not, then I'll just call you every time I babysit so you can come over and see them. And you know what? Those kids love you. They're not going to just forget that."

I smiled at her. I was grateful for her attempt to make me feel better, but I just didn't know how this would ever play out.

"So how long has this been going on for?" she asked, changing topics again.

"Uh... nearly six months." I answered with a wince. Her jaw dropped just like I expected.

"Six- six months? But you both came over for dinner. A lot. I never knew, I had no idea... But..." She stared at me with an open mouth until I reached out and tapped her chin with a finger. She shut her mouth fast but glared at me. "I can't believe you." She said darkly, shaking her head.

I offered her a smile. She sighed and hugged me again.

"So this was what the fight was all about? This is why he's been avoiding me and you've been acting odd?"

"Basically." I nodded.

"Well." Sarah said, squeezing my arm. "I'll be glad to have the both of you back to normal." Although that, I thought, was a very subjective term.

We went out the back to where everyone was gathering around the table and barbecue. Emma came up and began chatting to Sarah immediately. They seemed to be getting on just fine without me so I moved over towards Keith. Partly because I didn't know any of his friends and I'd forgotten their names already and partly because the skinny dark haired guy was distinctly unfriendly, but also because I'd only just got this right. And I wasn't about to let Keith go anywhere without me just yet.

He gave me a smile that was, in combination with the sight of him wearing my t-shirt, positively lethal. He passed me a beer.

"Everything alright?" he asked softly. His eyes were dark and warm and incredibly happy. Somehow I felt stronger, calmer, just with that look.

"Yeah, it's fine." I agreed, smiling back and slipping my arm around his waist. "Everything's wonderful."

Keith laughed softly and I ducked my head to kiss him.

Emma hooted and tried to get everyone else to whistle at us. It didn't really work, which Keith found even more amusing. He gave me another kiss, then leant back against me and I wrapped my arms around his middle.

We spent the whole afternoon eating and laughing and talking with our friends, and I don't think I lost contact with Keith at all for hours.

I felt good. I felt optimistic, which said something, seeing as I'd never felt so free or so happy that I could remember, and I couldn't imagine how I could be any happier. There were clouds on the horizon, sure, but nothing we couldn't handle. As long as I had Keith, as long as Keith loved me and I loved him, then everything was going to be fine. He made life worth living, he made everything brighter and happier, and every moment with him made me realise just how damn lucky I was. I felt like I had a second chance, and I was determined not to let anything make me forget what a gift it was or let anything get in the way. I knew what was important now.

For the first time in a long, long time, I actually felt like everything was going to be great.

...