Footy

SEAN & WILL (20)

Sean didn’t phone Will for a week. Every day he looked at the scrap of paper taped to his desk and thought about what they had done. Embarrassment, shame, shyness and pride made it impossible even to think of talking to him. One night he woke from a vivid dream involving Will, wet with jism. Still he didn’t call him.

He had no phone in his flat. Perhaps the Suttons felt that because they had given him a mobile so that they could keep in touch when he was chauffeuring, he didn’t need another phone in his rooms. On the evening Sean ended up contacting Will, the General had been looking for him while Sean had been trying to get hold of his brother Patrick from the public call box at the 7-11 two blocks away. Sean apologised and explained to his employer what he had been doing.

“Why don’t you use the mobile?”

“I don’t like to, sir.”

The General stared at him, and then suddenly smiled. When he smiled, Sean could see that he had been handsome, and with his new perceptions of male beauty, he realised that the old man must have been quite a stud once. “We’re not slave-drivers, you know.”

Sean was deeply embarrassed. They weren’t. Or at least, the General wasn’t. He avoided the General’s benevolent gaze. “No, sir. It’s just that it’s like taking advantage, sir.” That was only part of the reason. This was a good job, and Sean wanted to keep it. Neither of his parents had ever had a steady job. Sean was proud that he had a job, that he was earning his own living. It didn’t matter that almost everyone regarded the job he did as demeaning and unimportant. He paid his way. He looked after himself. He coped. And that put him miles ahead of his pathetic parents.

“There’s no phone in the flat, then?” The General was looking directly at him.

“No, sir.”

“I’ll have one installed. And if you wish to use the mobile, Sean, within reason, please do. Just don’t phone your girlfriend in New York.”

Sean smiled politely at the witticism. “Thank you, sir. All the same, sir, I’d like to pay for all my calls. I’ll just go and get changed into my uniform. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.” And he went back to his flat and called Will. Being given permission to make private calls on his mobile invalidated his ostensible excuse for not phoning Will – that he didn’t want to keep going backwards and forwards to the call-box like some lovesick teen. It was enough of an excuse to do what he anyway really wanted.

“Uh, Will, it’s Sean.”

There was a moment’s pause and then Will said, “Oh, hi. How are you?” He didn’t sound very enthusiastic. Sean’s awkwardness grew.

“Good. I was, um, wondering whether you’d like to meet for a drink later tonight?” The Suttons would only need him till 10:30. “Or tomorrow maybe?” Sean cursed himself for gabbling, for appearing too eager. He hadn’t been so nervous since his first job interview.

“I can’t. What about lunch tomorrow, or the next day?” Will seemed very offhand.

Sean was suddenly angry. Nothing was worth this shame and embarrassment. “Ah. Let’s forget it, OK?” He rang off.

About five minutes later, just as he was doing up his tie, his phone rang. “Sean MacDonald speaking.”

“Sean, it’s Will. Sorry about just now. I was busy. Couldn’t concentrate. Mate, it would be ace to meet you for lunch tomorrow.”

That was Sean’s day off. He was silent for a few seconds thinking. Did he really want to go through with this? “OK. Tomorrow. Where?”

“There’s a little café near the stock exchange building... ” Will gave him the address.

Sean arrived promptly at twelve-thirty. By twelve forty-five Will still hadn’t turned up. Sean was just about to quit when Will came through the café door looking harassed.

“Sorry, mate, got caught by a client just as I was going to leave the office. Have you ordered?”

Sean shook his head. He didn’t say he hadn’t ordered because he was wondering whether Will would in fact turn up. They went over to the counter, neither of them speaking to each other. The air was damp with embarrassment.

Back at their table, Will looked intently at Sean, his toffee-colored eyes managing to remain warm and charming even when he was being serious. “Sorry about the phone call yesterday evening. I was with someone, and just couldn’t talk.”

Sean shrugged. Now he was with Will, he was overcome with shyness. It seemed ridiculous. They had been completely intimate, physically, their bodies fused in an act of unparalleled closeness. Now, face-to-face, he could think of nothing to say.

Will looked at him and suddenly came to Sean that Will was as shy as he was. This reassured him. “When do you have to go back?” he asked.

“Oh, I have about an hour,” said Will.

“I have never been to that pub before.” Sean felt he ought to make this gesture, to put Will at his ease.

“I could see that,” said Will. His eyes glinted.

Sean wasn't sure whether Will was making fun of him or not. Yet he was unwilling to make a fuss about it because Will was the only man apart from Jasper who had shown any interest at all in him. Jasper hadn’t contacted him, nor had he visited his parents. He had apparently pushed their scene out of his mind. Yet all Sean could think of was just how terrific it had felt to have Jasper or Will under him, revelling in their love-making. He urgently wanted to do it again. He looked at his plate. He was tongue-tied in a way that he had never been with a woman. It made him angry because he felt it wasn't right. It was as if he was sixteen again. That hadn't been a good age for him. He never wanted to go back there again.

"Don't make fun of me," he said, a touch angrily.

"I'm sorry," said Will. “I know how it feels. It was new for me too once."

There was a charged silence. At last, Sean said, reluctantly, “I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have left you like that. It was wrong of me.” It was hard for Sean to make this admission. Yet he had always been fair – and painfully honest. They both stared at the tablecloth for a few seconds.

"It was good, wasn't it?" Will looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling, warm, filled with desire.

Once again, Sean felt the power of those toffee-colored windows into the soul. He looked at Will sitting across the table from him and started to plump up. “Yes.” Sean could feel himself coloring. He looked away. He looked back at Will, and was even more discomfited to see that Will's eyes gleamed with a sardonic amusement. He stood up abruptly. “If you're going to make fun of me,” he said, “I’m going”.

Will reached out his hand and placed it on Sean's arm. “Please sit down, Sean.” He spoke very quietly. Although Sean thought that there was still a smile in Will's eyes he could also see the same raw need, the same loneliness that he’d seen when they’d made love that evening. He knew what that felt like.

He sat down.

He cursed himself for being too soft. Anybody who knew him, who knew his history, would have found the notion that Sean MacDonald was soft ridiculous. Once, it had taken three men to subdue him and force him into the car to take him to the state boys’ home, when he’d been made ward of court because of his father’s beatings. It was when he’d run away from the home for the third time and been brought back that he decided to deal with his father once and for all. When his dad had started his usual shit after he’d drunk a bottle of cheap brandy, Sean had taken the sharpest kitchen knife from the kitchen drawer.

Andy MacDonald had seen the hate in his son’s eyes. “After all I’ve done for you,” he’d said, his maudlin self-pity and his lies making Sean want to vomit. Sean hadn’t spoken. He wasn’t just doing this for himself, but for Patrick and Damian. He’d stared intently at his father, daring him to do something that would give Sean the excuse to use the knife.

His father had never a laid a hand on him again. At his dad’s funeral, when the social worker had given him his condolences, Sean had said unemotionally, “I wasn’t going to come. But I wanted to see the cunt buried. I hope he rots in hell.”

Will looked at Sean and gave a small nod, not arrogant, not up himself, almost gentle. "Would you like to go to the pub again?" he asked. "On your day off. Or even better, on your night off before your day off."

"It's not that easy,” replied Sean. “They usually want me in the evening.”

“We could meet at lunch.” Will’s stare was filled with promise, with desire. “On your off days. If you want.”

“Where?” Sean wanted it. He wanted it right now. His desire beat insistently in his blood, behind his eyes. He wanted to feel Will’s tight arse round his cock. More than that, he wanted to have the satisfaction of giving Will the pleasure they’d shared before. He didn’t consider what these changes indicated about himself.

“At my house in Carlton.” Will’s eyes were fixed on Sean’s face.

“It takes a while to get there.” Sean’s objection was token.

“Not too long. I have a parking space in the stock exchange building. So I can drive straight from work. It’d give us enough time.”

“OK.” Sean was rigid with craving. He didn’t know where this was headed, but he knew – his body knew – what it wanted. Will had to go back to his job, and it was almost two o'clock already, so it wasn’t going to happen that day, no matter how much he wanted it. He realised that he had totally given up on the idea that he wasn’t gay. “I'm not gay,” he said. It seemed important to say this.

“Nor am I,” said Will. He looked at Sean, and his face was solemn. “I like to have sex with women too,” he said.

“Me too,” said Sean. He stared directly into Will's eyes. It was true. All the same, once he would never have thought that it was possible to get pleasure from a man. His mind went back to their first meeting.

“You have a girlfriend?” Will asked.

“No,” said Sean, “not for a while anyway.” At that moment, he did not think that even if he had seen the sexiest and most beautiful woman in the world, he would have found her at all interesting. At that precise instant, what he wanted more than anything else was to be fucking the man on the other side of the table. Reluctantly, he turned his eyes away and looked out across the cafe. “Do you?” he asked.

“I have a woman,” replied Will. There was something wrong about the way he said this that Sean only deciphered long afterwards, when it was much too late for everyone concerned.

“Coffee?” asked Will.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“A caffè latte?” asked Will.

“Yeah.” Sean had never had one. That was the sort of drink that yuppies took. People like Will, who drove Saabs or Volvos or BMWs. Not people who’d grown up in the poorest suburbs of Melbourne. But with a wry smile, he decided that since he had broken one key taboo, what harm was there in having a yuppie drink?

“What?” Will’s question was genuinely interested, his look friendly.

“It’s my first time for this too.” Sean’s voice was wry. He sipped the drink again. He liked it.

Will stared intently at him. A slow smile lit up his face. “You are so cute.” His eyes were warm, and there was liking and desire written in them.

Sean never blushed. Sean was tough. Sean was used to being alone. He was used to being the protector, the one who was strong. He seldom showed his real feelings, because that was weakness. On his street, in his life, you had to be strong.

He felt the wash of color flood his face. He looked defiantly at Will.

“It’s all right, Sean. It’s OK to be cute. Especially if you are also hot.” There was affection in the other man’s eyes. After a moment during which their gaze remained fixed on each other, Will looked away. He was scratching at the table-cloth with his index finger.

Sean’s face glowed. He looked around to see who was listening. There was no one nearby. The café was emptying as people returned to work. “I want to fuck you again, now.” He spoke quietly. He was deliberately blunt, to offset his mortification. Will wasn’t the only one who could say embarrassing things in public.

He watched Will’s face change. But instead of the discomfort he half expected, he saw a flare of desire. Will eyes darkened. He licked his lips. His eyes locked on Sean’s. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes. I want that too.” He abruptly stopped scratching the tablecloth, and rubbed his hand hard across his face, as if to wipe away a memory. “You don’t know how much.” To Sean’s unease, a quick flicker of sorrow and regret flashed into Will’s eyes, but it was gone too fast for him to comment.

“I’ll be off again on Friday evening,” said Sean. “I'd like to go out with you.”

“I’ve got something on that evening,” said Will. “Maybe I could come round to your place just after work. Where do you live? I mean the street address, you told me you live in Toorak.”

Sean gave him the address. “I might have to work, but if I do I'll let you know. I've got your mobile number.” In fact he had programmed the mobile number into his phone. He wasn't ready yet to admit that to Will.

“Yeah,” said Will. “I have yours too. But I’m really... ”

Sean fixed his eyes directly on Will’s. He wanted to jump Will’s bones right there. He could see that Will felt the same way towards him. He got up abruptly from the table. “Friday!” he interrupted Will, his voice rough.

***

Sean was off duty on Friday because the Suttons were having guests to dinner. They were going out on the Saturday night, when he would be needed, but he was free that evening.

Will arrived at 5.30, parking his car in the street outside, not in the Sutton’s driveway. Sean was grateful for that, because although the General would not have grumbled at him about it, he was pretty certain that Lady Sutton would have given him a serve the next day. Nor did he want any questions from her about how he had gotten to know someone who owned a BMW convertible. To his surprise, he wasn’t worried about whether they guessed he was fucking Will. He was sure of his rights – he was perfectly entitled to have a friend over. What they did in his room was their own business. Sean was feeling truculent about his new-found sexuality. Whatever I am, he thought, it’s fuck-all to do with anybody else.

Sean opened the door into the garage where the Bentley, Lady Sutton’s Jaguar and his Honda 750 bike were parked. “Upstairs,” he said to Will, gesturing with his head towards the stairs. He had no way of knowing that his very taciturnity was profoundly erotic to Will. He saw only the resulting glimmer in Will’s eyes. Nor did it occur to him that to Will, his class, the job he did and the uniform, the small flat he lived in made him seem intensely desirable and exotic. Will was used to the softer upper-middle-class men he worked with, had been to school with. This leather-jacketed bikie tough intrigued and excited him.

Most people would have found the lack of privacy depressing and humiliating. Sean hadn’t minded hitherto. But for the first time, he wished that he had his own flat, where he could bring back whomever he wanted to his rooms. Then he remembered Mrs Marchetti from next door who watched all that had gone on in their house. She had known when his father or mother was on a bender. She would stare at the MacDonald brothers in silence, her black eyes snapping, her mouth in a thin line of distaste and disdain. She had never offered them food when they were hungry, not even a slice of bread and butter, shooing them from her like stray dogs. She watched only to censure and despise. When things got too bad, she would call the welfare or the police.

Sean knew that there were always Mrs Marchettis. He realized that even if he had a house he would not have privacy, that there would be someone whose curtains twitched, whose curious or spiteful eyes followed his every move. The knowledge merely made him more determined to do what he wanted. And at that instant, what he wanted was to plant his cock deeply into Will’s body, to climax inside him, to feel the relief and lethargy that comes after sex.

As soon as Will was through the door to Sean’s flat, he grabbed Sean and started to kiss him, holding his head with his hands. “I’ve been thinking of this for days,” he breathed. His eyes were dark with longing.

Sean put his hands round Will’s waist, and pulled him close. He grasped Will’s butt and squeezed. He kissed Will deeply, his lips bruising, his tongue vigorous.

Neither was conscious of getting undressed. In a few minutes, the floor of the loft was strewn with an incongruous mix of a carelessly discarded business suit; jeans and t-shirt; formal shoes and trainers. In a moment, they were on Sean’s bed. Will had his legs wrapped around Sean’s waist, with his arms in a tight hug round Sean’s torso. Their lips were mashed together, their tongues drilling into each others’ mouths.

“Lube!” gasped Will, pulling his mouth away from Sean’s. Sean reached into his bedside dresser drawer, and took out a condom and a tube of KY. He had bought the lube only that morning. He slathered the lubricant on and into Will’s pucker.

“Put your finger in me!’” Will voice was ragged, rough with lust.

Sean complied. This time he felt no squeamishness about sticking his finger into Will’s butt.

“Deeper. Two fingers! Push into me!”

Sean pushed two fingers into Will until his fist was pressed up against Will’s butt. He went on kissing Will all the while, shifting between his chest and his face, moving his fingers in and out. It felt good.

“I want you,” Sean said. “I want to fuck you.” Using these words turned him on even more. He’d always felt with women that it was impolite to say what he wanted. He would remember the animal cries from his parents’ bedroom, wholly audible through the thin fiberboard walls of the run-down houses they’d lived in. His mother had seemed precious to him, even when her eyes were glassy and drool hung from the corner of her mouth. His need had driven him to girls and women, but as often as not, when he looked at them, he saw his mother, and desire would wane. Often, a horrible propriety would come upon him, making their love-making stilted and unproductive. He’d had sex. He’d climaxed. Yet the raw excitement that flooded his mind and body when he was with Will was beyond anything he’d experienced with any of his women.

“Take me! Oh, that’s so good.” Will arched his back, pushing against the fingers, as if he wanted to take Sean’s whole hand into himself.

Sean wanted to take Will as if he was a woman he’d picked up at a pub, to fuck him senseless without caring how he felt, to dominate and subdue him. He didn’t feel at all gay. He was a man. The gender of the body he was fucking didn’t matter. But the unexpected vulnerability on Will’s face gave him pause. Mixed in with the naked desire, there was a softness that spoke of greater depths. Will wasn’t just a piece of meat. He was a person.

Sean felt a sudden pang of sorrow and regret, and wondered whether he’d have behaved in the same way, rutting like some animal, heedless of his partner’s feelings, if it had been someone he loved lying under him like this. He forced himself to smile at Will to reassure him, and then found that after all he meant it. Again, he had no idea of the magic this worked on Will, of how erotic and touching the contrast was between the tough closed face and the sudden sunshine through the dark clouds.

Filled with tenderness, Sean leaned forward and kissed Will softly, running his tongue over Will’s lips, his chin, nibbling his eyebrows, sucking on his ear lobes, nipping his neck. He pressed the crown of his cock against Will’s ring. He smiled down at him, his eyes shining with lust, with something akin to love. In Will’s eyes there was a heady mix of desire and vulnerability. As Sean pushed in, he saw Will’s eyes darken, from pain or excitement. Will’s need for him heightened Sean’s own hunger. He felt his cock pop past Will’s butt-ring and slide into his body. He thrust himself deep into Will, pulled almost all the way out, and thrust again, relishing the tight rightness of Will’s arsehole, feeling at that moment that there was nothing else he wanted in the world. At first he was slow. He wanted to make the intense pleasure last. But then his need to climax overwhelmed him and his movements became faster.

Will was growling, “Fuck me Sean, bam your cock into me, oh God that’s good.” His hands were round Sean’s back, digging into him, and his mouth was fervent, his eyes afire, his brow beaded with sweat, his cheeks flushed. Sean felt his balls start to tighten, and he cried out, “Will, oh Will, I’m comin’!” but so was Will, and the Will’s cock was pulsing a river of come over his stomach and his ring was clamping down on Sean taking him over the edge too.

Once again, as he had before when he had had sex with Will, Sean felt grateful. He didn’t waste time on introspection. He didn’t consider what this implied about his self esteem. He knew only that the wash of pleasure through his body filled him with affection for his partner. The first time they had fucked, he had been ashamed of what he had done. This time he was filled with satisfaction and triumph and tenderness. His deflated dick slipped out of Will’s body. He lowered himself to lie next to the other man. He put his arms round him, and kissed him softly on his neck, on his cheek, on his lips. “That was good,” he said, his lips pulled into a smile, drawn forth from deep inside him, as unexpected as it was charming.

“Yes, it was.” But mixed with the affection in Will’s eyes was melancholy and loss.

Sean lifted his head off the pillow, and leant on his hand, his elbow pressed into the mattress. “What’s wrong, mate?”

“Nothing,” said Will, forcing a smile. “Nothing that’s your fault, anyway.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah.” There were several heartbeats of silence. “Can we do that again?” Will reached up and pulled Sean’s head down and kissed him.

Sean allowed himself to be distracted, for the time being. But he knew he would have to understand what demons possessed the other man. He hadn’t brought up two brothers without learning something of the secrets of the heart. Just as he’d taken responsibility for his brothers and his mother, so he unconsciously took it upon himself to help Will. Unaware of the threshold he’d crossed, he returned Will’s embraces.

The second time was even better than the first. They took it slowly, building step-by-step to sustained and intense climaxes.

Afterwards, Sean didn’t ask again why Will had been sad. He just held him close. “I didn’t know it could be so good.” he said, thoughtfully.

“Hmmm?” Will was trailing his hands through Sean’s thick curls, patting his head, caressing it, as if Sean was a favorite dog.

“Sex with a bloke.”

Will moved to stroking his back. “Yeah.”

“You liked it too. I didn’t know that.”

“What?”

Sean colored a little. But Will couldn’t see his face, so it was OK to say it. “That the guy being fucked enjoyed it so much. I didn’t know.” Sean had thought it would hurt, that the man being fucked was giving something of himself up, that he was in some way playing the inferior role, the woman’s one, and not that it would be as pleasurable as it so clearly was.

“You were pretty good at hitting my sweet spot.” Will’s breath was warm on Sean’s face.

“Sweet spot? Does everybody have one?” Sean was starting, impossibly, to get hard again, imagining the inconceivable, excited by it.

“Yeah. Men, anyway. It’s your prostate. If you rub it you can have a hands-off orgasm. It’s incredibly intense.”

“Oh.” Sean digested this information, fire coursing through his veins. “I’d like to try it.” He leaned towards Will and purposefully began to kiss him again.

“You tiger!” Will was laughing. He was all at once irresistibly handsome and boyish. “Next time. I have to go.”

“Mmm.” Sean’s voice was muffled as he ran his lips down Will’s pectorals.

“Sean, love, I have to go. I do.” Will was amused but determined. He got up and started getting dressed. Sean watched him, unconsciously taking in the curves and folds of his body, the slight satisfying fleshiness of his stomach, the meaty fullness of his thighs, the way the hard muscles had a layer of fat, which softened and humanized him, so that he no longer seemed a creature of the upper classes but somebody slightly imperfect and therefore approachable.

Sean only remembered the ‘love’ much later, as he lay in bed rehashing their love-making, meditatively stroking his cock. He didn’t even consider that he would have rejected out of hand the word – and the feeling – only a few weeks before. Even after Jasper, he would have felt supremely uncomfortable. Now he hadn’t even noticed it until afterwards. And when he did, instead of recoiling, he smiled, and warmth spread through him. When he fell asleep, cum all over the hand still snugged round his dick, his mouth was curved up, and the lines round his eyes were relaxed. On that hard face, so attuned to fight and struggle, the softness and tenderness were the more pleasing.

<<Chapter 19

© 2009 Nigel Puerasch. All rights reserved.
Romantic m2m novels and short stories