The Marriage

It was a small bluestone church, not that either Gavin or Steve were religious. The minister was a friend of Isabella's - also a friend of Dorothy's, Gavin suspected, although the priest was making no admissions. When Gavin heard he said why not - semi rural setting, picturesque. Steve wanted to do it more as a political point, however mostly he just wanted to please Gavin, who a commitment ceremony seemed to mean a lot to.

Joey and Isabella sat in the front row, of the Douglass Clan. They'd made good on their threat and were now back together, often acting like a couple of love struck teenagers.

"If mum and dad get all gooey," said Carla, leaning through from the pew behind to Claudia and Jasper. "I swear I'll puke."

The Grandcourt family sat on the other side of the church. Steven's parents sat together.

Both sides viewed the other side suspiciously.

The two grooms stood at the front together in dinner suits. They looked radiant. They touched unashamedly. There were no bridesmaids, just Steven's two brothers, Adam and Scott, as best men.

Grandpa Jo leaned through to Joey and Isabella. "If I live until I'm a hundred, I'll never understand why two fine young colts like that want to play in the same fucken paddock."

"It's a modern world now Jo," said Isabella.

"I think they make a handsome couple," said Grandma Jess. She laughed. "I think they would have beautiful children.

Jo pulled back to his seat suddenly, swinging around to face his wife. "Don't talk fucken nonsense, Jess," scolded Grandpa Jo. "You amaze me sometimes."

The organ played. The priest entered through the vestry. The music stopped. "Welcome," he said.

I do.

I do.

The grooms pashed unreservedly.

 

Vote 1 Gay Marriage

 

Joey Douglas was a man’s man. One of three children, catholic upbringing. Played footy at school. Attended university. Married in his early twenties. Three children of his own – the usual hopes and dreams for them. You know, whatever they wanted, as long as they were happy. He became a member of the school dad’s club. Cheated on his wife. Divorced. Work became his life. Played golf. Drank at the pub with his other divorced mates.

Joey’s wife Isabelle moved to Europe, after their marriage went south, after a job offer she couldn’t turn down, leaving Joey to raise his three teenage children on his own.

Whatever they wanted, as long as they were happy. The children’s mantra was tested early, when his son Gavin announced that he, in fact, like boys rather than girls. Both Gavin’s sisters supported him, apparently, they had known for some time. Gavin’s friendship with his mate, Ben from school, wasn’t everything he and Gavin purported it to be, so his two sisters took great delight in telling their father, once he knew his son's secret.

Joey couldn’t see it, Gavin had girlfriends in his teenage years, girl’s liked him. Gavin was a strapping, handsome lad, tough on the footy field, a boy any father would be proud of. He had lots of mates. Drank beer. He didn’t lisp or have a penchant for fluffy jumpers.

Then came the day that Gavin was bringing over the lad he had fallen for, as Gavin put it. Joey’s girls offered to be there to support their dad, if he needed it, but he said he could and should handle the situation on his own.

Joey’s mind raced; first of all with the picture of a handsome, accomplished, well spoken young man, Steven Grandcourt, whom he, was astounded, would be satisfied with as a husband – is that what you call them now a days? – for his son, Gavin. They seemed like a couple of mates. Boyfriends, Joey said to himself, as he watched the two of them together at the bar fixing a couple of beers.

After Gavin had introduced Steven to Joey, he announced that he planned to marry Steven, if it were at all possible.

Steven was a nice boy - firm handshake, spoke up for himself, could talk about sport, drank beer and acted like any other twenty year old lad.

But then came the further speculation would Gavin be satisfied with Steven, if Joey was taken with his choice of a lover. There was no knowing what would meet his boy’s taste, or touch his affections, in a long term sense. It might be something else, and thus the image of the perfect suitor gave way before a fluctuating combination of qualities that might be imagined to win Gavin’s heart.

What do boys see in other boys? Joey had no idea. He didn’t even like the way blokes smelt.

A quirky sense of humour.

An individual laugh.

The way he tilts his head when he looks at Gavin.

The way he walks?

The size of his… Joey shook his head. What did he know? It hadn't been all that long, in the greater scheme of things, that he'd known that his boy, in fact, liked men. He guessed he was still getting used to the idea, although he suspected, in all reality, that he had had long enough to get used to the situation.

In the difficulty of arriving at the particular conclusion, was this a life long meeting, like his daughter Claudia and her beau Jasper? Or was it something else? All the part time men in the life of his other daughter, Carla?

He guessed because Gavin had said that he was in love, it would necessarily signify that he was in love and that Joey would have to accept Steven, as permanent.

Joey was surprised at his own reaction to his son’s announcement, in as much, as he liked Steven and the two of them together seemed quite normal, almost instantly.

For whatever marriage had been for himself, how could he desire it less for his son? He couldn't. Eventually, he suspected, he'd get used to saying Gavin and Steve rather than Gavin and Eve, for instance. It was just a matter of familiarity, nothing else.

Would he give his son away, if there was a ceremony? He suspected not, but how was he to know what was usual in such circumstances.

Two grooms? Would there be bridesmaids?

The difference his own misfortunes made was that he never dared to impart so much to Gavin on the desirableness of marriage, dreading an answer something like that of the future Mrs Douglas, when her deluded (3 times divorced) mother urged the acceptance of a suitor, said,

You will be happy, my dear.

Yes, Mum, like you.

He and Isabella turned out to be hopelessly mismatched, despite her mother’s blessing.

It was very different to what the mother had said towards the end of their marriage, when Isabella was considering staying with Joey for the children’s sake, despite Joey’s indiscretions.

Your womanhood will rot should you consider this, you silly billy.

Yep Ma, but it itches for him.

She left any way, when Gavin was relatively young. Joey had too many girlfriends behind Isabella's back. The fact that she left her son and daughters also, scandalised her reputation and bought certain kudos to Joey, kudos, deep down, that he knew he did not deserve. How would Gavin know how to behave with a betrothed?

In relation to the problematic Isabella, at least, Mr Grandcourt would measure up? Joey had never been a shining beacon of conjugal bliss for his son to observe. So would Gavin measure up?

In the end Joey decided, no matter what example he had set for his son with his wife Isabella, Gavin must desire Steven Grandcourt and Steven Grandcourt must desire Gavin. It was that simple and immutable. He could only bless them being together, the rest was up to them. And, despite the two, twenty two year olds, looking good, happy together and maybe in spite of the astronomer’s announcement, courtesy of Gavin’s two sisters, that Gavin and Steven were made for each other, it was, after all, still up to them.

Isabella laughed when Joey, finally, told her about their son’s desire for another boy, during one of her infrequent trips home.

“I thought such an upbringing of absent mother and rampant masculinity, from his father, was in danger of producing a son with the same foibles as the father,” said Isabella. “I never thought it would lead to my son choosing to take masculinity to his heart and his bed, in such a way.”

“Perhaps, he needed his mother, after all,” said Joey. “And not some corporate, high flying mentor.”

“Who would have thought that you would raise the perfect little poofter.”

“He wants to have a commitment ceremony,” said Joey. “And he wants you there.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” said Isabella.

“He’s serious.”

“Marriage?” said Isabella.

“Marriage,” said Joey.

"Did he learn nothing from his mother and father?"

"Apparently, not.”

"So this boy..."

"Steven."

"Where is he from? What are his prospects?" said Isabella. "Is that what I'm supposed to ask?"

“Did you ask the same question of Claudia and… um… Carla?”

“I believe, I did,” said Isabella.”

"He’s a lawyer, from a good family," said Joey. "He makes Gavin happy, you can see it, it is obvious to anyone who observes them..."

"I can't believe what I am hearing," said Isabella. “And a lawyer of all low-life professions.”

"If you spent more time in your son's life, you'd..."

"You'd understand what a charming faggot he has turned out to be."

"You would understand him better, Isabella," said Joey. "And maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to drop the 1970's bigotry that, quite frankly, doesn't suit you..."

"This is our son we are talking about..."

"Our son who you are supposed to love unconditionally."

Isabella opened and closed her mouth. She picked up her wine glass and took a large chug of the dark red fluid. "It's time, I guess," she said. "I just need some time to get used to the idea."

"You've got the rest of your life," said Joey. "To get used to the idea."

“Three son’s in law…”

“That is if Carla ever settles down.”

“Who’d have thought?”

“You always were a man’s woman,” said Joey. “I thought that would have suited you best.”

“When do I get to meet this young man?”

“As with everything in life, Isabella, that is up to you.”

Gavin and Steve Get Ahead

Gavin and Steve are studying identical uni courses. Steve, six foot, blond, blue eyes. Gavin, six foot, dark, green eyes. They go to uni, studied law together. Very sweet. Wide-eyed and innocent, if you like. But Y Gen, not hung up.

One of the older, gay, lecturers, at the law faculty, asked Steve if he’d wait back after a lecture.

“Your, er, mate…”

“Boyfriend,” said Steve. He’d been emboldened by his relationship with. Gavin since they’d started uni.

“Er, yes, of course.”

Steve could see a smile briefly flash across Moriarty’s face, so he felt safe in his declaration.

“He’s not here today?”

“No, he had to go take his mother somewhere.”

“Oh.” Moriarty smiled. “A boy who is kind to his mother, er, very nice. And you two are…”

“Boyfriends,” Steve offered again.”

“So that is with, um, all the implications, is it?”

“I guess,” said Steve. He wasn’t quite sure what Moriarty meant, but he kind of wondered if he did.

“For some time, then?”

“Boyfriends?”

“Er, yes.”

“Since we were at school.”

“At school, you say?”

“Yes.”

Moriarty’s eyebrows raised up. “Oh, well, that must have been very, er, um, you know…“

“What?” said Steve.

“It must have been very life affirming?”

“I guess.”

“Dare, I say, um, exciting.” Moriarty suddenly look a little sheepish, as though he’d asked a question he kind of felt that he shouldn’t.”

“And confusing, all at the same time.”

“But, such discovered, I would assume.”

“Yes, it was that.”

“Did you share it with your school mates, now did you?” Steve thought he meant their relationship status, but somehow, he wasn’t completely sure that’s what he meant.

“Not exactly. A few of the gay kids. But not to everyone, not straight away.”

“So, there were gay kids that knew, and who you knew?”

“Yes.”

“Fascinating,” said Moriarty. “I’d love to chat to you more about it, do you have time?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Steve. “I don’t have any more lectures today.” Steve suddenly had warm feelings towards his lecturer, he wasn’t really sure why exactly.

“Oh, I expect you have other things you want to get done?”

“No, not really,” said Steve. “Not today, as it turns out.”

“Do you want to walk with me to my rooms?”

“Okay,” said Steve. 

They walked across the quadrangle 

“Are you enjoying the course?”

“Yes.”

“You and your, er, boyfriend, both?”

“Yeah, we both love it.”

“So, you are having your choices confirmed, so to speak?”

“Yes.”

“No regrets?”

“None, so far.”

“It is never good to have regrets.”

They went upstairs to Moriarty’s rooms. It was a large, long room with a first floor balcony at the far end.

“Just make yourself comfortable,” said Moriarty. He disappeared through a door off to the side.

Steve sat in one of the three leather couches. He had a funny feeling about old Moriarty which repelled him and turned him on all at the same time. He wondered if he was going to be proved right in his suspicions. He loved the sense of the impending, it made him feel alive. He loathed the stuffy sameness of life, he got off on the unknown. He loved the thrill of life.

Moriarty reappeared. “Come out onto the balcony, it’s a really nice space. Steve followed his lectured out through the French door.

“It is nice out here,” said Steve.

“It is my favourite spot in the world.”

“I can see why.”

“You can be here, which is essentially amongst it all, but at the same time no one can see you.”

Steve nodded in agreement.

“Do you like the sense of the unknown, er, do you?”

“Is this guy reading my mind, thought Steve. “Yeah, sure I do.”

Moriarty stepped towards a table by the chair and picked up a wooden box. “You’re not, er, too, um, conservative, ah, in your… thinking, are, er, you?”

“No, I don’t think I am.”

“You’d call yourself progressive, with progressive thoughts?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

Moriarty opened the box. “Joint?” The box was filled with rolled joints.

“Ah, well, you are full of surprises,” said Steve.

“I don’t think it is very surprising, not really. The oldest known herb to man.” Moriarty laughed.

“Are you trying to get me stoned.”

“Well, of course, I am.”

Steve must have been taken back with that response.

“Oh, only for your own pleasure. For conversation”

“Okay,” said Steve.

“You will be perfectly safe, don’t worry. I find it relaxes me.”

Steve took a joint from the box, as did Moriarty.

“One each?” said Steve.

“Oh, yes, I find one hits the spot the best,” said Moriarty. “I don’t have any more lecturers today either.”

“Okay,” said Steve.

“Here sit, it’s better if we keep ourselves somewhat out of sight.”

“Oh yes, of course,” said Steve.

They sat in two large Adirondack chairs.

Moriarty produce a lighter from somewhere, lighting Steve’s joint before his own.

They sat and took drags on each of their joints.

“It’s nice here,” said Steve.

“It’s nice that you are here.”

“Nice that I am here?” questioned Steve.

“Yes, it’s nice to have a young man here at my place.”

“But you must spend your whole life with young men. Don’t you?”

“Yes, well, of course I do, that is true. I do spend my life in the company of young men and women. That is my job.”

Stev dragged on his joint, and exhale a cloud of smoke. “So, then, why me?” said Steve.

Moriarty dragged on his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke too. “You’re very handsome. Do you mind me saying that.”

“No,” said Steve.

“And I think you are smart.”

“I hope so,” said Steve. The pot was hitting him, he already started to feel kind of stoned.

“I think you are. I think you will do well.”

“I want to do well.”

“With, or without, my help,” said Moriarty.

“Your help?” questioned Steve.

Moriarty puffed on his joint once more. “Well, you know, it is my job to help my students.”

Steve exhaled a cloud of smoke. He coughed. He coughed again.

“Would you like some water?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I have a gay friend…”

“A gay friend?” asked Steve.

“Malcolm and I have been, friends for many years.”

“An old friend?”

“Yes. He says if you don’t cough, you don’t get off.”

“That’s funny,” said Steve.

“And we all want to get off,” said Moriarty. He laughed, as though the laugh nullified what he’d just said into some sort of harmless quip.

Stever was feeling quite stone by this point and was feeling kind of turned on by his respected lecturer’s attention. Was he flirting with me, thought Steve? The thought that such a well respected lecturer would think Steve was sexy enough in which to be interested, in a way turned Steve on. It was nice to be thought of as attractive. The pot was making him feel attractive. Probably worse, the pot was making him horny.

“I should get us some drinks. What would you like?”

“Oh, um…”

“Look at you,” said Moriarty. I knew those beautiful blue eyes would be even more enchanting stoned.”

“You think I have beautiful blue eyes,” said Steve.

“Oh, you must have heard that before, surely?”

“Um,” said Steve.

“With those eyes?”

“Maybe,” said Steve.

“Surely, Gavin has told you that?”

“Yes, he has.”

“When he is looking into them.”

“Yes,” said Steve.

“So, drinks?”

“Um? Er?”

Moriarty laughed. “Well, would you care fore, um, just water? Or would you like some coffee? Or tea. I can do tea? Or would you like a beer, or a wine? I have both. I’m thinking coffee.”

“Yes, I would like coffee too,” slurred Steve.

“Here, have another joint while I get the coffee.”

“Oh sir, I believe you are trying to get me stoned.

“Oh yes, I am,” said Moriarty. “I didn’t think it was a secret. But don’t let it frighten you. You are perfectly safe.”

Steve took another joint from the box. So did Moriarty. He lit Steve’s first again, then his. After that, he disappeared through another door, on the opposite wall.

Steve sat back in his Adirondack chair and puffed on his joint. He kind of liked to feeling of being special boy to the teacher, as stupid as that may sound, but it was true. It took him back years to when it had happened before, in high school and he liked it then, and it bought back those memories now. He puffed on the joint some more. Yeah, sure, okay, it made him feel horny. Pot made him feel horny. Here he was in his 

“Well, I just get the feeling you are open and receptive to new experiences,” said Moriarty. “Just from my interactions with you.”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” asked Steve.

“You see, you are open to new experiences, like I said,” said Moriarty. “But no, I don’t want to have sex with you, as such.”

“Oh,” said Steve. “As such?”

“No,” said Moriarty.

“But there has to be a motive here, surely?”

“Oh well yes. Yes, there is a motive. Yes there is.”

Moriarty picked up the joint box, flipping it open he offered Stever another joint. Steve took another joints, as did Moriarty. He lit Steve’s joint first again, before he lit his own.

They both sat and smoked their joints.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” said Steve

“Let’s hear it?” repeated Moriarty.

“The yet undisclosed motive.”

“You and Gavin are, um, very good looking.”

“And?” said Steve.

They held each other’s gaze.

“Well?” said Steve.

“Um.”

“Let’s have it.”

“Um, er.” Moriarty looked away. “I want to watch.”

“You want to watch?”

“You and Gavin.”

“Oh. Okay.” Said Steve.

“I like the idea of watching.”

There was silence. Then Steve said. “Oh. Okay.”

Moriarty offered them cocaine, even the use of his MX5 sports car “for er, um, a double act,” as he put it. 

“A double act?” said Steve.

“Yes.”

“The two of us?”

“I could help with university marks. You would have to pass, I can’t pass you if you fail. But if you pass, I can make it so you pass well, if you pass well, I can make it so you did even better. If you get a distinction, I could easily change that to a HD.”

“We’d perform for you?”

"Let me watch and I promise you both a HD, if you get anywhere near it," said Jim breathlessly. "You're both smart boys, you going to score well anyway. But a HD is good to have."

Steve came from a poor, rural family, everything he got he got by going out and grabbing it. He'd smoked too much of the professor's gunga. He was a bit cross-eyed.

Steve spoke to Gavin. Gave him the low down. Gavin was drawn in because Steve was into it.

Fake open fire and animal skins, dim lighting, ethereal decadence. Music. Candles burned, incense perfumed the dark, shadowy world of life in the sky. Trance music fill the air, like drums played like heart beats, a message from afar.

"HD. You just watch. No touching?"

"Oh, my dear no, I only every wanted to watch."

"You promise?" asked Gavin, his voice thick and claggy."

"You have my word," he said. “I’ll just watch from the shadows.”

Moriarty stepped into the shadows.

The drugs the two boys had loaded up on were already hitting them.

Gavin looked over at his out-of-it boyfriend, then looked back at the professor. Gavin snorted through his nose and looked angry, momentarily wild.

Steve lay back against the couch. Gavin reached for the waistband of Steve's 501s. He undid the buttons deftly. Steve objected when Gavin's hand slid into his jocks. Gavin pushed Steve firmly back against the couch and pulled his jocks down to his thick, hairy thighs. Gavin took Steve's soft cock between his lips. Steve moaned. It stiffened up as Gavin sucked it. Steve objected again, weakly. Gavin held Steve's arm firmly. "Just lay back," Gavin whispered, sternly.

"Oh yes," whispered the prof, sounding like Monty Burns. "Very nice. Excellent."

Once he’d sucked his boyfriend up nice and impressively hard, Gavin got on all fours and Steve penetrated him doggy style. Steve fucked him just like that until Gavin shot his load all over the professor’s carpet, moaning and spasming and Steve shot his load deep in Gavin’s arse.

High up in lecturer, Jim's, Docklands apartment, where he just liked to watch, you know. He never did touch. Two gorgeous boys, bookends of blond and brunette, which kept the hormonal elderly lecturer beguiled, until the day he retired, unexpectedly, to his shack, on the surf beach, down the aisle.

The two days, curiously, coincided. Videos he'd made, which even Gavin and Steve didn't know about, were returned with property from a robbery at the apartment and promptly handed to the police. There was talk of an investigation by the University, which never eventuated.

Steve told Constable Ben Wallace that he and Gavin modelled willingly for the films, even though he actually knew nothing about them. The young studly blond Constable Ben Wallace sent to question Steve about the films, ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in Steve’s bed with Steve.

"I've never married," said Professor Jim Moriarty, professor of ethics. "I have no one to leave anything to."

“No one?” asked Steve.

“No.”

“No one in the world?” said Steve.

“No one I care about.”

“Well, really.”

“I like the idea of you as my son.”

“Why me?” asked Steve.

“You remind me of someone from long ago.”

“I do?”

“It is quite uncanny.”

At Uni

Gavin had made the running squad at uni. He was in the finals.

Isabella was back on one of her infrequent return trips home. She's taken Steve shopping for Gavin for some running clothes.

The cellophane wrapper crinkled in Isabella's grip. "How do I know which ones fit him?"

"Just get small, they stretch," said Steven.

"But that seems so haphazard," replied Isabella. "Is Gavin really small?"

"He's the same size as me, I'd buy small, then they are snug."

"You're the same size, of course," said Isabella. "Where are the change rooms?" She took Steve's arm with a firm grip.

There wasn't much room in the change rooms with Isabella, as well. Steve looked at Isabella pleadingly. "Just put them on, Steve. I ran modelling agencies before call centres." Steve still didn't look convinced. "I'm a middle aged woman, Steve. You are a little too young for me."

Steve dropped his pants and took the black tights from Isabella's hand.

He pulled them up to his waist, they were snug.

"Let me see." Isabella's hand slipped up under Steve's shirt, pulling the shirt out of the way, coming to rest just under Steve's nipples, her hand on his skin.

Nothing was hidden under the black, stretch material. Nothing but the truth. Every thing was very real, every contour, every muscle.

"How do they fit here?" Steve jumped as Isabella's hand caressed his balls. "Not too tight?"

"No," Steve choked out.

"Young men," said Isabella. She laughed. "I forget how modest you are."

 

Bigger, Faster, Stronger

Steve, Gavin and Carla. R&B played. The three of them circled the two chairs, each keeping a corner of their eye on the other, with the other eye firmly fixed on the prize.

"Omenta! Omenta! We all fall down," whispered Carla.

They prowled like wild cats, ready to pounce.

The music stopped. Both boys instantly sprang sideways, with athletic precision and claimed a chair each. Carla was left standing, ready to make her move.

The smile disappeared from her face. "Oh, that's not fair," Carla whined. "You two are bigger and stronger... you've got an unfair advantage."

"You wanted to play, sis," said Gavin. He shrugged.

He turned his head sideways to a smiling Steven and kissed him firmly on the lips.

Celebrate Festivus

Gavin and Steve were sitting on the floor with their backs to the seat of the couch. The Xmas trees lights flashed. Stopped. Blinked. Then flashed again. Gavin had spend Xmas day with his father and mother. They'd both flown back from England together and announced Xmas day they were buying a house together in Melbourne. Steve and his sisters were shocked, as their parents had been divorced for ten years. Steve had spent the day with his family. Boxing day was the first time they'd seen each other.

Gavin had put up the tree, he wanted his apartment to feel, at least, a little Xmassy. It just didn't feel the same, otherwise.

"A week long celebration, starting Festivus Eve," said Gavin. Finishing New Years day."

"You buy presents for all those you love and air your grievances," said Steve. "Then you give them presents."

"And you eat plumb pudding with caramel sauce and cream and ice cream."

"Kriss Kringle?" said Steve holding up four gift wrapped boxes.

"I thought we weren't doing the... present thing?" said Gavin.

"You're the one I love," said Steve. "I couldn't help myself."

It was the first time Steve had said he loved him, just like that, no booze, no drugs, no excuses.

 

Isabella lands

Isabella was coming in for a business trip, for a week. She'd asked Gavin if she and he could meet, she missed him, she wanted to see her strapping son. Both of Gavin's sisters had been over to England to see their mum.

And if it was possible, with Steven too.

“I want to meet this boy I’ve heard so much about.”

Gavin was nervous, very nervous. He couldn't stand still. He'd asked Steven to wear a suit, which, of course, Steve had declined. "Relax babe, it's just coffee."

Isabella had a late change of schedule and arrived at Gavin's place at 8am.

Gavin stumbled to the door, just with a towel wrapped around him. "Who is it?"

"It's your mother, honey, open the door."

"Maarrrmmm," whined Gavin, like he did when he was five years old, "What time do you call this..."

"Sorry, but I had a last minute meeting change and this was the only time I could see you," said Isabella. "And I needed to see my snookums." Isabella pushed her face into the crook of Gavin's neck and kissed him as she hugged him.

She stepped back and smiled. "I've bought coffee, croissants and danishes," she said triumphantly.

"We're both in bed..."

"You've been working out," said Isabella. She pushed passed him.

Both boys jeans and jocks were strewn across the lounge room floor.

"So do I get to meet mr wonderful, then," said Isabella as she gazed on the discarded clothes.

"He's in bed."

"Well you get him up," said Isabella as she was about to head through the kitchen door. "Um... ah, just out of bed will do nicely." She laughed. "I'll make the tea." She disappeared into the next room.

Steve still looked sleepy as Gavin lead him by the hand into the kitchen. He had on a T-shirt and a pair of Gavin's old track pants. There were plates of food for everyone and pots of tea with cups and saucers and a silver tea strainer.

"Mum, this is Steven," said Gavin. "Steve, this is my mum."

"Well, aren't you a handsome boy," said Isabella. "My son obviously has an eye for the men."

"Very nice to meet you..." Steve hesitated. At that moment he realised Gavin had never mentioned what to call his mother. "Er, Mrs..."

"Oh nonsense!" Isabella exploded into laughter. "It's Isabella. Very nice to meet you Steven."

"It's nice to meet you, too," said Steve. His face broke into his handsome smile, as he held out his hand to shake.

"Oh, goodness me, come here." Isabella took Steve in her arms and hugged him tight. Steve's face looked taken aback looking at Gavin, over her shoulder.

"Mum, stop man-handling my boyfriend."

They broke apart.

"He's gorgeous," said Isabella.

"It's all right," said Steve.

"Can you blame me?" said Isabella. She turned her gaze to Steve. "You look after my beautiful son." She turned and pinched Gavin's cheek.

"Mum!"

She looked back at Steve. "Or you'll have me to answer to." She smiled. "Okay?"

"Mum?" said Gavin.

Steve looked quizzical, but held Isabella's gaze. "Okay."

She smiled as though she was impressed. "Now, sit down and eat. The croissants are ham, the danishes are cherry and the tea is hot. I've got an hour."

Coupling

"Let's go dancing," said Gavin. "Take our shirts off and sweat all over each other."

"We'd have to go to a gay bar for that," said Steve.

"You say it like you don't want..."

"I'm not sure what I think about the gay scene..."

"What do you think of the gay scene?" asked Gavin.

"Too many freaks, not enough sideshows," replied Steve.

"So many guys, so little..."

"Don't finish that," said Steve. "You know it makes me insecure..."

"Insecure?" asked Gavin.

"You should only have eyes for me," said Steve. "Thoughts about me."

Gavin hugged Steve and kissed him on the side of the head. "I only have thoughts about you babe," said Gavin. "But a boys allowed to look, isn't he?"

"Just look?"

"Of course."

Carla Meets Steve

Steve chewed vigorously, Gavin twitched, as they watched the 4 o'clock show.

"Enjoying it?" slurred Steve.

"My head is thick. The base of my neck is stiff. My eyes are only half open. This is an effort," said Gavin. Steve put his arm around Gavin's naked shoulders and pulled his boyfriend into him. Gavin was only wearing jeans.

"Gavin! Gavin!"

Gavin looked around to see if he was the Gavin somebody was calling to. His sister, Carla, was next to him. "Gav," said Carla. "I spotted you from the dance floor."

"You didn't tell me you were coming?"

"Only decided at the last minute," said Carla. "Have you been here long?"

"A while."

Carla looked at Steve. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"This is Steven."

"Hello." Carla was twitching and looking wide-eyed. She stepped back and gazed Steve up and down.

"My, my, little bro. I can see what you see in this one."

Gavin looked at Steve - Shaggy, blond mane, hairy chest, 6 pack, snug shorts, thick, hairy thighs. He looked back at Carla and blushed. All of the women in Gavin's life thought Steve was hot. He was. Carla caressed Gavin's cheek.

"Look at you little bro." She sighed. “Happy in love.” She smiled again. Carla looked from her brother's face to Steve's and back again. “Even I can see that.” 

Gavin Meets Steve

Gavin pulled his undies out of the crack in his arse with his thumb and pointer finger, leaning over on his left hip, pulling his right buttock off the bed, a bit. The relief felt great.

He yawned and stretched, both arms behind him, shoulders scrunched together. There was a good hurt all down his spine. His head spun. He stretched his neck, pulling his chin to his chest. He shivered all over.

He rotated his head from one shoulder to the other. Then one ear to one shoulder, then the other ear to the other shoulder. He opened his eyes wide and stretched again.

"Come on sleepy head," said Steve. "Unless you intend to spend the entire day in your undies?"

"No," said Gavin. He stood. His foot hurt, momentarily. "What time is it?"

He scratched his back with both his hands over his shoulders.

"It's time," said Steve. Steve stepped towards Gavin and unexpectedly kissed him on the cheek. Gavin could feel Steve's stubble brush against him. He pulled his head away. "For me to go," said Steve.

Steve pulled on his jacket. "It's 7am." Steve smiled. "Do you have to work?"

"No," said Gavin. He couldn't remember, momentarily, what it was that he had to do that morning, but he was sure it would come to him. "No, I'm on holidays. Uni holidays."

"Lucky you," said Steve. "I gotta go." Steve left the room, headed into the hallway, towards the front door.

Gavin followed him.

"Thanks for last night," said Steve.

With every step after Steve, Gavin realised he was hung-over. His head hurt. Was he still drunk?

"Yeah... yeah... it was great," said Gavin, vaguely remembering he had a good time. His father was in Cypress, then he was heading to London to see Gavin's mum. Gavin had the house to himself.

"Monday morning, huh?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah, Monday morning, buddy." Steve opened the door and smiled. He held Gavin's gaze. "I really had a good time."

"Yeah... yeah... it was great."

Gavin knew he was sounding lame, he'd never been in the situation before. He was trying to remember the night. He remembered how nervous he was. He hung out around the pool table. Steve sneaked looks at him, he realised that pretty early. He remembered how sweet Steve was, asking him to play with him when Steve won the match. Gavin was so nervous he fumbled the first few shots.

"Don't worry," said Steve. He touched Gavin's shoulder and squeezed gently. "We can take all the... time we want." Gavin touched his shoulder where Steve had touched him.

Steve smiled. "Do you remember my name?"

"Um... Steve." That came from no where.

"Have you got my number?"

Gavin fumbled in his jeans pocket, only to realised he was standing at the front door in his jocks.

"Yeah..." Gavin looked back towards his bedroom. "In my pocket... my jeans pocket."

"Well..." Steve smiled. "Use it." Steve smiled again and was gone.