Laughter lines

Iwasn’t supposed to be at work when I wasn’t on duty, but I still sometimes did. Sometimes it was nice to catch up with the people I worked with. Other times, I just needed to ground myself. Stand around in a place where I fit.

I’d waltzed away into Gray’s ridiculous fantasies again, for a moment thinking I was a prince in a fairy tale or something. Standing behind the desk, even though I wasn’t in uniform, brought me back to reality, and Luis was working, so it was a comfortable conversation. A bit of gossip, nodding politely at passing guests. It was hard not to when I was so used to doing it.

“Mr Traynor is back with a bunch of ladies.” Luis whispered discreetly. “Amy was having a bit of a moment earlier when he checked in, trying to get ID on the ladies. Mr Traynor was having none of that maximum occupancy thing. One double bed. I bet that would have been fun to clean up.”

I grimaced. Clean-up. That brought back some little memories I wasn’t quite ready to process. Not now. Not here.

“Reubs!”

And here was Amy. Fishing, of course, phone at the ready. She shoved some Instagram Dieter update account in my face—a grainy video of me half carrying, half dragging Gray out of a very dodgy-looking fast-food restaurant.

“Classy.” She giggled. “So, spill. Are you his security or something? We were all saying you’d probably taken on another job on the side. Which is dead cool. Seth is well-jel. You know he’s a die-hard Dieter fan.”

“No, Ames.” I cringed. “No. And stop with the gossip. The Dieter is one of our guests, and as such, we treat him with respect.”

She laughed in my face.

“Yeah, like you do. I know you brought him food. One of the housekeepers clocked you coming out of his suite. Cutting it fine, babe. Watch out the boss doesn’t catch you doing dodgy things on the side, yeah? You know we have to declare any outside jobs. Working for other companies.”

Amy. Wannabe manager. Like we didn’t all know she was shagging the guy in engineering and sneaking into rooms for quickies on her breaks. Not subtle. Even compared to someone like me.

“He’s a mate,” I protested as visions of him with my dick in his mouth flooded my brain. I felt a little faint. Overwhelmed.

“A mate,” she teased. “He’s like the biggest pop sensation on the planet. Did you see the PopBitch poll? He was voted BabyGirl of the Year.”

“I know,” I snapped, filled with that weird anger where I wanted to defend him, tell the world that he was actually a really nice guy. With issues, obviously, and if I believed him, he couldn’t act and was falling apart over the band getting a load of shit in the studio. And now he’d bought a house that was nicer than any house I’d ever seen and there had been a bloody baby bed in the bedroom, and I’d gone completely cold.

“Ames,” I said. “You want kids?”

“With you, babes?” She looked serious for a minute before exploding into laughter. “I’d have The Dieter’s babies. Any day. Can you imagine? A bunch of super-cute little cherubs with laughter lines.”

“Babies don’t have laughter lines.”

“You do.” She actually looked serious. “And you’re like a complete baby.”

“Not.” I laughed. “I’m twenty-six.”

“Yeah right.” She snorted. “And I’m having The Dieter’s babies.”

“I…No.” I almost said, I am.I’m having The Dieter’s babies. I didn’t, luckily. Because that would have been weird.

Even weirder, she said, “You’d make a great dad. You’re really fun. Happy. Your kids would adore you.”

I just stood there and smirked, wondering how the hell that would look. Gray and me. In that house. Some small, screaming baby in that cot in the corner.

I wasn’t sure why I was smiling. It sounded like a nightmare. I smiled even wider when Gray texted that he was sitting in this Michelle’s office feeling like he was on death row, because I was quite sure he was being melodramatic. He had form for that.

I was still smiling as I crossed the bridge towards Waterloo and got the train home. I changed my sheets, got a wash on, sorted some dinner, ran the Hoover around. Still smiling. Then I lost the plot and ended up on the sofa, scrolling on my phone while my sheets sat in the washer and meal I’d prepared sat uncooked on the side.

I wondered if I was really, truly, fucked in the head. If Gray had somehow turned me into a completely different person. He’d obviously brainwashed my dad too, who turned up with a bag of shopping, ruffled my hair and huffed at my half-arsed attempt at cooking for us.

“Do I want to know what this was supposed to become? Or shall I just go down and grab some chips from the corner?”

“Dad.” I sighed and curled up in a small ball.

“You remember the first day you came here? When I was finally allowed to pick you up from that children’s home and bring you here.”

“Yeah.” I remembered. I’d never been so terrified in my life.

“You sat on that sofa and held on to Mr Snuggles, just like you’re doing now. Only back then, you couldn’t stop shaking.”

“Well, how would you have felt if some strange dude turned up and kidnapped you?”

That’s what I’d said. I’d been an idiot. But Dad smiled.

“You refused to talk to me. Just sat there shaking, and I was terrified too. Scared you were going to bolt through the door and run away. I had no idea how to be a father, and I certainly didn’t feel ready to love you. You were just this troubled kid, and I was a messed-up single bloke who drank too much between working shifts and trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with my life.”

“Yeah.” I knew what was coming.

“It’s the same thing now, Son. I know how scared you are. You’ve met this complete stranger and you’ve no idea what to do with him. All you know is that you want to be with him. All the time.”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t wrong, but I needed to find a different word to use. Not just say yeah to everything. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.

“And that’s terrifying, I get that. I was the same with you. Scared to let you out of my sight. I couldn’t relax when you went to school because I wanted to be there, keep an eye on you so I could keep you safe. Tell you that you were loved. Make sure you were happy. Well…and make sure you didn’t do stupid stuff and smoke and run away.”

I grinned. Shook my head. “I wouldn’t have run away. You made good food and didn’t shout at me when I fucked up. You just sat me down, and we watched TV and…you know. Talked.”

“Talking is good.” Dad nodded, picking up a packet of bacon from the side. “So what’re are we having? Bacon and…?”

“I dunno. Gray and me are so different. He’s some millionaire pop star and I’m a doorman. I have no education. He’s got all these mad projects.”

“Gray is a kid from some godforsaken northern town. His dad worked in garage. His mum was a nurse. Both retired now.”

I gulped. I didn’t know that. “Dad, what the hell? How do you know that?”

“Talking is really good. You should try it. I’ll fry this up then, shall I?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” I said, a little too aggressively. Out loud. I cringed. Dad shrugged.

What the hell, Reuben? I’d meant to tell him off for digging dirt on Gray, and I…

I had no more words.

“He’s a nice young man, grew up exactly the way you did. Went to school. Made stupid mistakes. Found a way forward.”

Like that was how I’d lived my pathetic shitshow of a life.

“We’re nothing alike,” I argued, sulking against the sofa cushions.

“You’re very alike. Big hearts. A bit insecure. Wanting so much but having no idea how to get there. He bought that house then?”

“I don’t know.” How old was I? Five?

“And you’re moving in with him?”

“NO!” Help! I buried my head in the cushion. Screamed. Well. Made weird, frustrated noises at least. “I don’t know. He… We… It’s a really nice house. Big. Central…has parking.”

I had to laugh. Gray and his bloody parking.

“And you’ll be paying him rent?”

“I…we haven’t even discussed this. I haven’t even said yes.”

“So you are going to stay here with your old man in the back end of Peckham until you’re forty and bald?”

“I’m never going to go bald. Neither are you. You have to get a haircut every two weeks or you look like a hobo.”

“True.” He laughed, scraping a spatula against the pan, the smell of bacon filling the room. I hadn’t even noticed he was cooking.

“You have to try these things.” He turned the heat down, grabbed two plates off the drying rack.

“It would probably be a massive mistake.”

“Fifty/fifty chance. Think about it. A nice house. Easy commute to work. Sharing space with someone you really like. You might be really happy.”

“Boyfriend.” I tried the word out again. “I think…Gray is my…boyfriend.”

“I know, Son,” Dad said, ripping a bag of bread open. “You want it toasted?”

“And that’s all you have to say about your only son, like…coming out to you? It’s a big thing!”

I was half joking. Perhaps. Maybe. My chest heaving.

“Yes? And so what? Is it a big thing? Or is it just a case of you having fallen a little bit in love with a very pretty boy who makes you happy? Happens to the best of us. I’m pleased.”

“Dad.” I kept my voice serious, stern.

“Reuben,” he mimicked my tone, motioning for me to come sit at the table.

I sat. Tried to breathe. Gather myself up.

“It will be okay,” he said and took a huge bite of his sandwich. “Good bacon sandwich, this.”

“You made it.”

“Half of the work is actually taking things out of the freezer and letting them defrost.”

“True.” I grinned. He was stupid. We both were. “Teamwork.”

“Teamwork.”

After we’d eaten, I cleaned up, and Dad threw himself on the sofa and fell asleep watching TV. Just a normal evening. It was funny how half of the time I felt normal, while the other half I felt like I was someone else. Like when Gray quietly let himself in, with his key as if he lived here. Which he did. For now. Until he swanned off to live in that nice big house. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me from behind, dug his chin firmly on my shoulder.

“Sorry I’m late. I dropped in on Musa. We had a few things to go over. His lawyer has dug up some interesting stuff, and Josh has a plan.”

“Okay?” Like I had any understanding of what that meant.

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah. Dad made you a bacon sandwich. It’s on the table under the tea towel.”

“Sweet,” he said, letting go of me and plonking himself down at the table. “My mum used to do that. Make me tea and leave it on the table under a tea towel. Dad used to get all narky about all the food stains on our lovely tea towels, kept shoving them back in the wash all the time. Used to drive Mum mad.”

“Normal family life, eh?”

“Yep. Simple times.”

“Simple,” I huffed out and sat opposite him, staring at him as he pretty much inhaled the bacon sandwich.

A simple bacon sandwich. Life really didn’t have to be that complicated, did it?

I picked up my phone. Sent him a text.

Can we do more sex? It’s embarrassing enough that I have to ask.

I put my phone back down and watched him pick his up and read my text. Not a twitch as he replied, put his phone back down.

We need your dad to go to bed. Then how about I suck your dick until I have to shove something in your mouth to stop you screaming?

Okay. Newsflash. He could actually text me and I would sprout a semi. I was not gay. But okay. Interesting.

Normal people sat down and had simple conversations with their boyfriends.

Boyfriend. I cackled internally.

Normal people asked about their day, thoughtful questions about whatever they’d been up to.

“How did your meeting with Michelle go?” My voice sounded strained, and my hand was not holding onto my junk under the table. Nope. Not me.

“Strange. They’ve held the first test viewing in front of a select audience. The critics said my performance was raw, nuanced and refreshing.”

“Is that good?”

“Well, better than pathetic and weird. That’s how I felt filming it. But the whole reason for that meeting was that they’ve pitched a second film, and the streaming service will only commission it if they can get the three main cast members to sign on. So she wanted my signature on some documents. And to schedule my arse on set in four months. Give or take.”

“Problem?” I tried to sound cool, nonchalant, as he leaned forward, grabbed my arm and yanked my hand from my crotch. Let it drop on the table so he could tangle his fingers with mine.

“No problem. Apart from that I hated it the last time and will probably hate it again. And after a second film, they will one hundred per cent know I can’t act. And the small fact that I will be away from you for weeks on end. Home at the weekends, if I’m lucky. But we can manage that, can’t we? Do you have a problem?”

“No.” I laughed, and he just smiled at me. Reached for my other hand.

“You hard?” he whispered.

Honestly, this man.

“I’m going for a shower,” I blurted out, almost taking the table with me in my haste to get out of his sight.

Bloody hell.

He only had to talk to me, apparently. Talk about film sets and shit and I lost all sense.

I got the water running, kept it cool, got myself under control. Brushed my teeth. Sorted my hair. Breathed. Glass of water. Took my meds. Make feet move. Towel around my waist.

No sheets on the bed.

Fuck.

I found some sheets and lost the towel trying to shake my duvet into the duvet cover.

And there he was.

“Your dad’s gone to bed. I turned off all the lights. Chain on the door.”

I stood there, my back to him, his hands on my hips.

“Reubs? Wanna sit down on the bed?”

I did as I was told, stared at my hands as he got on his knees. My dick was already filling out. I grabbed Mr Snuggles and shoved him onto my lap.

Gray gently lifted him away.

“Boundaries,” I said quietly.

“You can say no, Reubs. Do you want me to give you a blow job?”

Gulp. Swallow. No words.

“Let me rephrase that.” He got himself comfortable. Arms on my legs. Spread them carefully so he could get closer. I had to put my hands behind me to hold myself up, which was horrible because now my dick was right in his face. I was so hard I was almost dizzy.

“Option A.” He cleared his throat. Stared right at me. “I suck your dick. You come. We go to sleep. Nice end to the day.”

“Okay?” At least my mouth was working.

“Option B.” His fingers. Stroking up my stomach. Soft caresses over my chest. My nipple hardening as his fingertip smoothed over it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I’ve forgotten option B already.” His cheeks were a little pink. “Wow, your nipples are so pretty. I…please let me suck your cock. Reubs, seriously. You need it. I need it.”

“What about you?” I felt faint. Firm fingertips squeezed my nipple. His nose nudged my dick. Just the tip of it. Up. Down.

He didn’t answer. Just unzipped his jeans and got up on his knees and pushed them down. And his briefs.

He was as hard as me. Oh, shit. My breathing wasn’t right.

His lips were on my stomach, small soft kisses as he wriggled around getting out of his clothes. Hoodie off. T-shirt over his head. He was still wearing my old Ronald McDonald T-shirt. The shame. I wanted to laugh, but all I could do was whimper.

“Are we good?” he asked, looking straight at me. “Nothing weird. Nothing will hurt. Just a really good blow job. That cool?”

I nodded.

“And I will be getting myself off too. Just watch, once I get your dick all the way down my throat, I’ll be close. So bloody close, and you can just come whenever you want.”

“You’re…disgushhhhhh.” He hadn’t joked about his mouth. All of it. My dick was suddenly engulfed in warmth, and his hand worked my shaft as he pulled up, gathered some spit in his mouth, let it slowly drip onto the head, pulled my foreskin back…

“There,” he said and kissed my slit. Held still, making me push up through his lips. Soft. Warm. Wet.

I was watching. I couldn’t stop. My hands fisted the bed sheets as my hips shook. He rose up on his knees so he could work me from a different angle, fingers back on my nipple, twisting gently, sending small sharp shots down my stomach into my groin.

“You okay?” I loved that he asked. That he cared.

I knew he cared. He liked me. He said it all the time. So I nodded. Gasped when he sank back down.

“When we move into our house…” he murmured around my balls, delivering small licks along my shaft. His hand picked up the movement, then his mouth following his fingers down. Deeper.

He came back up for air again. “When we have more privacy…I’ll sit on your cock. Let you fill me up. Stretch me so good as I sink down on you. So big. Big enough that it will take a bit. Slow going. A little at a time until you’re all the way in. Then I’ll ride you, your cock so deep inside of me I’ll be able to feel you…everywhere. Hard. Fast. You like that idea? And I’ll be jerking off…”

No joke. I came. Right there and then, and his mouth wasn’t even anywhere near my cock. My brain just went blank and I exploded.

Yeah. Oh, yeah.

He watched me, his eyes full of everything that he was.

A little funny. Warm. Kind.

Reaching his arms around me, he carefully lay me down on the bed and held me.

“Oops,” I said. Yeah, I was no wordsmith.

“Didn’t get to taste you,” he whispered, kissing my cheek. “But baby, that was hot.”

“Was it?” My brain was still out in action. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’m still hard. Might have to get myself off against your hip here. Won’t take much.”

He was placid. Soft and warm against my skin as I turned him around so I could spoon him, pressed my lips against his neck as I got him into position.

I had no idea what I was doing.

“You are my baby,” he said. “You’re two years younger than me, so whatever.”

My dick twitched as he got himself off.

Right next to me. Touching himself.

I had no idea why that was so freaking hot.

Well, it was working, whatever it was. Hand on his cock, firm strokes, up, down, my mouth sucking into his skin as my hips jerked. Wow. This…

His body stretched out, his breath hitching.

He would have bruises tomorrow. Marks all over his neck.

I had no idea why the thought of that was making me hard. Again.

Oh, yeah.

Swatting his hand out of the way, I folded my fingers around his dick. I stroked it, gliding my thumb over the head, caressing his foreskin. Down. Then up again. Slow, circular movements.

“Come,” I whispered, my hand moving faster as his breaths got louder, became moans—sounds of pleasure that I was getting out of him.

He reached up and pinched his nipple. I wanted to do that to him, but both my hands were busy. What I could do, and did, was push him down and latch my mouth over that hard bud. Scraped it with my teeth. Locked my lips over it as he finally let go and his body went rigid, his cock spilling warmth and wetness over my hand.

I kept moving, so I could pump it all out of him, let him ride that wave as I planted kisses all over his chest.

I still had no idea what I was doing.

I’d never realised how much I’d needed this. To do this. Look after him, like I was doing now.

He looked so incredibly beautiful, even under the stark light from the old strip light in the ceiling, his skin pale against my sheets, his eyes closed but that smile forming on his face. Happy. Satisfied. Sated.

“Reubs,” he said, then giggled.

I snorted.

“That okay?” God, I hoped it had been.

“Mind blown.” He laughed. “You’re good. Really good.”

“Okay?” He was lying. But whatever.

“See. Sex isn’t complicated. It’s just…you know. Whatever we need.”

We didn’t say much more. I got up and turned off the light. He crawled under the duvet. I hadn’t put the pillowcases on the pillows, but never mind. I shoved them under his head and Mr Snuggles under mine.

Then I held him, my face in his neck, his hair tickling my nose.

Breathed him in.

My fingers were sticky.

Him.

God.

What on earth had I become?

I had to laugh.

“Go to sleep, Reubs,” he whispered.

Oh, yeah.Gray’s boyfriend. His ‘baby’.

That’s what I’d become.