DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | No Mermaid
Summary: The boys struggle through another transition in their deepening relationship. One thing always leads to another.
Warnings: None
He'd been at the store late that Tuesday night helping a new cashier sort out a discrepancy with her drawer. The poor girl had been scared to death that she would be responsible for the missing money, but it turned out to be nothing more than a mathematical error. Still, it took almost two hours to come to that conclusion and by the time Vince got home, it was almost nine o'clock. He was tired and hungry and feeling very much like he needed some sex. The whole thing with Brian the night before had whet his appetite considerably
and he'd been thinking about the naughty things he wanted to do to Stuart all day.
He let himself in and called Stuart's name, but there was no response. After hanging his raincoat in the front closet, he grabbed the mail off the kitchen counter and started for the bedroom to get undressed. He was planning to have a nice shower while he waited for
his lover to come home and then jump his bones on sight.
As soon as Vince stepped into the bedroom, he stopped in his tracks.
Both the wardrobes were open and all the drawers in the dresser were pulled out, their contents rifled and tossed around the room. Clothing was strewn on the bed and it only took him a second to realize most of it was his. His mind flitted through the possible
reasons for the mess, but other than robbery, he could think of none. Glancing back at the rest of the flat, he saw that nothing else had been ransacked. Then he heard the soft rippling sound of water in the bathtub.
"Stuart?"
"What?!" his lover snapped from the bathroom.
Vince walked down the narrow hallway and leaned inside the bathroom door. Stuart was reclined in the full tub and an open bottle of wine sat on the floor beside him. The bottle was nearly empty and Stuart was scowling.
Vince looked back at the disarray of the bedroom and shook his head, questioningly. "What the fuck happened in there?"
"Where's that dark brown jumper you had with the little flecks of yellow in it? The really soft one." Stuart was slurring slightly and his frown deepened with every word.
Vince blinked, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you know the one I mean?"
"Yeah . . . but . . . I ruined that sweater in the wash the first week I had it. I shrunk it and had to toss it in the bin. Why on earth are you-were you looking for it? Is that what happened to the bedroom?" He gestured behind him with a bewildered frown.
Stuart said nothing. He sat in the steaming water and sulked, glowering at Vince coldly.
Spreading his hands in defeat, Vince said, "Stuart, what the `ell am I missing here? What's happened?"
Vince could see his lover's jaw working as he clenched his teeth. He was very angry about something, but he didn't seem ready to discuss it. At least not rationally. Vince was in no mood for a tantrum- based argument so he turned on his heel and walked out of the
bathroom. He tossed the mail on the dresser and started gathering the strewn clothing to put it all back where it belonged. While he was folding t-shirts and sweaters, he heard Stuart get out of the tub.
Wrapped in his fluffy white robe, Stuart came into the bedroom and leaned against the dresser. He held the nearly empty bottle of wine in his hands. His dark curls were wet close to his neck and they were dripping water on his skin. He stood there pouting while Vince continued to right the mess he'd made in the bedroom.
"Are you going to talk to me or just stand there like a twat?"
Stuart upended the wine bottle and drained it in three deep swallows, then he set it on the dresser with a solid clunk.
Vince walked over to him with a handful of folded t-shirts. He set them on the dresser beside the bottle, then stood in front of Stuart with his hands on his hips. "I'm waiting," he said. "Why were you looking for that brown sweater?"
"I wanted to see it," Stuart said by way of explanation. He didn't seem to be planning to elaborate.
"Why?" Vince said, just then beginning to lose patience.
Stuart licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest, defiantly. "The last time you wore that . . ."
"Was easily three years ago. I think I only wore it the oncr," Vince said. "In fact, I KNOW I did. I wrecked it in the wash the weekend after I bought it. I remember that because it was expensive and I was completely pissed off with myself for ruining it."
"The one time you wore it, we were out in the Village," Stuart said, looking down but his jaw was still set tightly. "We were with Alex and Dane and that idiot, David, that pissed in my bed when I shagged him. You four were at a table at Poptastic and I went to the bar for drinks."
"Right," Vince said. He leaned against the dresser, waiting for this story to gain some relevance to the disastrous mess around them.
"While I was waiting on the barman, this bloke came up to me-nice, too. Really good-looking. He started asking me about you. Said he'd had you and he wanted to call you to see you again, but he kept seeing us together and he wanted to know if I was your boyfriend. I kept looking at him like he was mistaken. Like he must mean someone
else, not you. But he pointed to you down the bar and said, `yeah, Vince. That one-the lovely one in the brown jumper'."
Vince's eyes kept going to the tiny drops of water running down Stuart's neck from his hair and he reached up to wipe them with his hand. As soon as he touched the warm skin of his lover's neck, Stuart completely shocked him by starting to cry. He was drunk and
behaving erratically, but still-the outburst went straight to Vince's heart. Despite being angry a moment before, he pulled Stuart into a tight hug.
"Oh my God, love . . . what IS it?" He cradled Stuart in his arms, rocking gently trying to soothe him. "Shhhhhh . . . tell me . . ."
Sniffling, Stuart looked up with his dark blue eyes wet and rimmed red. "I'm drunk. Just ignore me. We'll talk about this later."
"Oh, no." Vince held his face in his hands and looked right into those eyes. "First you ransack all my clothes looking for a jumper I haven't had for three years, then you get pissed and get in the bathtub and now you're babbling on about some night a million years ago when some stranger asked if you were my boyfriend. Stuart, you just burst into tears for no bloody reason. You are telling me what's wrong. Neither of us are moving from this spot until you do."
"I'm drunk, Vince. I'm acting like a lunatic."
"Yes. You are. But I still haven't learned why."
Stuart leaned against him and sighed. "I hated that fucking jumper."
Vince breathed a confused laugh. "Then why were you looking for it so frantically?"
"I was going to tear it into little bits and burn it."
He lifted Stuart's chin and smiled into his eyes, hoping to lighten his mood with a little humor. "Blimey, you've really got strong feelings about certain sweaters, don't you?"
Stuart was having none of his levity. He just sniffed miserably and laid his forehead back on Vince's shoulder. "I couldn't stop thinking about that night. I got so fucking angry I had to leave work today."
"Why didn't you call me?" Vince kissed his neck, stroking his damp curls.
"I didn't want to talk to you. I'm angry at YOU."
"What did I do?" He looked in Stuart's eyes again earnestly. "You've got to tell me."
Stuart stared at him a moment before he spoke again. "I heard you this morning talking to Brian."
Vince squinted, his mind racing through the topics he and Brian covered that morning over toast. At first, he had no clue what he might have said that made his lover so terribly angry. He shook his head, a bit helplessly.
Stuart frowned, his lovely eyes glinting coldly. "Seven threesomes is quite a few, Vince. Especially when I only know about the two."
So that was it. Vince sighed, letting out all his anxious breath. "All right. Actually, you know about three of them and if you heard the whole conversation, then you also heard me tell him WHY you only know about three of them. You never asked, Stuart."
"You never asked me about my shags! I just TOLD you! You were supposed to be my best friend! Why didn't you tell me?"
Vince just looked at him, not seeing the need in repeating the obvious.
Stuart pulled away from him and walked over to sit on the bed. "There were loads of men, weren't there? You've had hundreds of shags."
"Not hundreds," Vince said, leaning back on the dresser again. "Just more than I told you about. I wasn't a slut, Stuart. I just . . . had more attention than you wanted to acknowledge."
"What does THAT mean?" he said, his brow knitting sharply.
"You know what it means," Vince said gently. "It was easier for you to think of me as . . . a bit sad. That way, I was never competition to you. Not that I would have been, mind, but you would have seen it that way. It was easier and much more beneficial to our dynamic for me to let you think whatever worked best for you."
Shaking his head, Stuart flopped back on the mattress, arms outstretched on a pile of Vince's sweaters. "Christ. I was such a twat to you. Why did you stay so long?"
Vince walked over to the bed and laid down, stretching out beside his lover on top of the disheveled clothing. "We're not having THAT conversation again, are we? You know why I stayed."
Stuart turned his head and looked in Vince's eyes. "You were really waiting all that time? Waiting for me to realize I was in love with you?"
"I don't know that you were in love me the whole time," Vince said. "But you always needed me. That was good enough for me."
"And now?"
"Now?" Vince laughed softly. "Now, you're going to marry me and be with me forever. Now . . . you're so in love me that you can't stand to be apart from me. Now . . . you're mine. Just like I always knew you would be."
"How?"
"What do you mean?" He touched Stuart's hair gently, smoothing the shining curls back off his face.
"How did you know?"
"It was just faith, luv. You were all I ever wanted. I would have waited forever."
Stuart rolled over onto his side and pressed his face into Vince's chest. "You never gave Brian an answer," he said.
"To which question?" Vince's fingers found their way instinctively into his lover's hair and began stroking and petting it.
"Have you ever . . . cheated on me?" Stuart's voice wavered at the end of the sentence and the sound of it broke Vince's heart.
"Don't be daft," he said. "'Course not. Not only would I never have had the energy, but-" He lifted Stuart's chin so they could see each other. "Every time, with all those other blokes, I was always thinking of you. You remember that thing I wrote down about losing my virginity? Your name is in that entry more times than the bloke I was having sex with. In fact, I can't even remember his name now."
"Kevin," Stuart told him, clearly having the name right up in the front of his mind.
Smiling warmly, Vince said, "all right. Kevin. But it was always you, Stuart. I would just close my eyes and think of you."
Finally, Stuart's expression softened and he seemed to relax. He sighed, curling into a ball and fitting himself against Vince's body.
"Are you all right now?" Vince asked.
"Mm hm. Sorry."
Petting those luscious curls, Vince wrapped himself around Stuart. "That's why you wrecked the bedroom? All because of that brown jumper?"
"I wanted to see it and tear it up. I remember how you looked in it. You were gorgeous. I love you in dark brown. Makes you look golden. I just . . . wanted to . . . that jumper reminded me of how I felt when that bloke was asking about you. I wanted to kill him."
"Obviously you got rid of him `cos he didn't come over to me. I remember that night. I distinctly recall coming home on my own and tossing that sweater in the hamper where I would shrink it to the size of a doll's top in less than a week. What did you say to him?"
Stuart snuggled up, slipping his arms over Vince's waist. "I think I told him you had herpes." He giggled and Vince was happy to hear it. Giggling meant the storm had passed.
"That's lovely," he said. "Thanks a lot! You probably DID do that, you twat."
The brunette was laughing full out then and he tugged Vince's shirt out of his trousers playfully. Once Stuart had his belly exposed, he started kissing the warm skin softly while his fingers worked on Vince's belt.
"Let's get these clothes off the bed," Vince said, looking around at
the shirts and sweaters they were lying on.
"Sod the clothes." Stuart opened his lover's trousers and buried his
nose in Vince's pubic hair, breathing in deeply. "I need some make-
up sex."
"Oh, we've made up, have we? You're still completely mad, you
know. You and your bloody tantrums."
"Please, Vince. I haven't had a tantrum in weeks. I was overdue."
He grinned like a naughty child and rolled Vince onto his back,
straddling him. The white robe fell open and exposed his smooth skin
and semi-hard cock.
"Fine with me, luv," he said, stroking his fingers along those sinewy
thighs. "I'd planned to shag you as soon as I got home, anyway." He
lifted up on the bed to let Stuart take off his trousers. "Little
did I know I was going to find you pissed drunk and pissed off about
something you shouldn't have even heard in the first place. You were
supposed to be sleeping on the couch this morning."
"I was at first." Stuart tugged Vince's tie and slid it off, then he
unbuttoned his blue French cuffed shirt and pushed it off his
shoulders. The cufflinks came off last and Stuart set them on the
night table. "The smell of the toast woke me. I was hungry."
Vince pushed the robe off Stuart's shoulders then sat up so they were
facing each other. "One thing, though," he said, holding onto
Stuart's lean hips. "Next time you get yourself in a state like this-
let's talk about it before you start destroying my stuff. All right?"
Stuart rolled his eyes dramatically. "You have to take all the fun
out of everything, don't you? It was BRILLIANT doing this! You
should have seen! I transformed this bedroom in two seconds flat."
"Did you start drinking at the office?" Vince asked.
"At lunch, yeah. Sandra and I had a meeting with the most bloody
boring clients you have EVER seen and all we could do to survive the
meal was drink. She was havin' a day, as well, so we were just
feeding each other's moods. After I got off the phone with Brian, I
was-"
Vince cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, giving his lover an
admonishing look. "What's that? You talked to Brian today without
me?"
"Just to tell him good-bye. I missed him this morning, remember?
Didn't want to be rude."
Stuart batted his dark blue eyes and smirked challengingly.
"Right, I see," Vince said, surprising himself with how suddenly he'd
become angry. He pitched forward and laid Stuart on his back on the
messed up bed. "That's it. You've broken that rule too many times
in one day. No sex for you." He got up and walked down the steps to
the lounge where he grabbed the remote for the telly. Vince pulled
the chenille throw blanket down over his naked torso and turned the
television on.
Out of his peripheral vision he could see Stuart get up and start
searching through the clothing on the floor. He found one of his own
shirts and a pair of jeans and got dressed. He put on his white
trainers and stomped down to the lounge where he stood in the doorway
and just looked at Vince.
"You're serious?" Stuart said. "You won't fuck me because I called
to tell Brian good-bye."
Vince's jaw tightened and he just stared at the telly silently. If a
vase had been within reach, he would have thrown it at Stuart at that
moment.
"Fine," the brunette said. "That's just fucking brilliant. Fine.
I'm going." He spun around and marched over to the counter where he
grabbed his keys.
"Don't you fucking dare drive!" Vince shouted. "You drunken twat!
Don't you dare drive the car!"
"Fuck off, Vince. What do you care?"
"How did this become about me?" Vince yelled. "You're the bloody
maniac today! Stuart-if you must go out, get a fuckin' taxi." He
said all this from the same position on the couch, the remote held
tightly in his clenched hand.
Stuart appeared in the doorway to the lounge again, his beautiful
face flushed with anger. "Is this a real row, then? Are we fighting
for real?"
"You tell me. You're the one stomping about and having a fucking
fit." Vince lowered his voice down to a soft growl. "We had a
deal. No pairing off. We play with Brian together or not at all.
You broke that rule TWICE today, Stuart. That hurts me and makes me
angry."
"You're being ridiculous. I just rang him to say good-bye! We were
only on the phone for five minutes! At work! It's not like we had a
fuckin' wank or anything!"
"You didn't need to, did you?" Vince fumed. "You'd already done that
this morning while I was asleep!"
Stuart shook his head in frustration and turned around again, heading
for the front door. "This is bloody stupid. We're just fighting to
hear ourselves fight."
"You started it," Vince growled.
"Fine! What the fuck ever, Vince! I'm going."
"Go, then."
He pulled open the door and flung himself through it, not bothering
to close it after him.
Vince wrapped the blanket around his waist and reached back for the
fancy ceramic box on the window ledge behind the couch. Inside were
two bottles of lube and a box of condoms left over from an earlier
time in their relationship. He grabbed a handful of them then raced
out the door, catching Stuart just as he was rounding the landing on
the stairs.
"Oi!" Vince shouted.
Stuart halted and looked up, his sapphire eyes even more beautiful
glittering with anger and intoxication. Vince tossed the condoms
down the stairs and they rained on the concrete landing around
Stuart's feet.
Sighing, Stuart glared up at his lover. "Oh, that's very dramatic,
Vince." Leaving the condoms untouched on the landing, he proceeded
down the steps and Vince could hear him go out the front door of the
building.
* * *
Brian:
A sea of paperwork was fanned out on the hotel room bed and Brian was
lounging amongst it in his sweats and a white tank top. The
television was on and he was waiting for room service to deliver the
pasta he'd ordered. With one last night in Manchester, he figured he
would go back to Canal Street and see what he could see. Best to
stay clear of the young betrothed couple over on Mariner's Court.
They had enough of their own shit going on.
Reclining on the bed, he lit a cigarette and bashed channels while he
waited for the food.
The phone rang on the bedside table and he picked it up on the second
ring. No sense seeming anxious. "Yeah?"
"Aren't you polite?" Kate said. "Whassssup?"
"Hey, girlie. Uh . . . isn't it a bit late for a school night?" He
glanced at his watch. It was two a.m. in NYC.
"I just got in from dinner with your sister. She says hi. I told
her I was gonna call you."
"You're drunk," he pointed out.
"Very. You?"
"Not yet. I'm gonna eat something first and then go out."
"So . . . have you seen the boys?" she asked, hedging nervously.
"Uh huh," Brian smirked. "No thanks to you."
"I'm sure you didn't need my help. So, how did you find them?"
"Actually, I ran into them in a bar. They were standing there
tonguing each other down while they waited for a round of drinks and
I just . . . happened upon them. It was destiny."
"Isn't that special," Kate said. "Where are they tonight?"
"Home, I guess. I think we all need a night to recover."
Kate was silent for a long moment and then he heard her sigh. "You
had your little threesome, then?"
"Uh huh."
"And was it worth the ten hour flight?"
"I came over here on business, Katherine. Seeing them was just a
fringe benefit."
Again she paused, letting out a little sigh. "Was it worth the ten
hour flight, Brian?"
"Most. Certainly. Your Stuey is a ravenous fuck. He never gets
enough. And Vince . . . well, let's just say . . . he can stay if he
wants to. That one has a lot of layers to him."
"Brian, I cannot believe-"
The quick knock on the door diverted his attention. "Hold that rant,
Katey. My food's here." He set the phone down on the bed and walked
around to the door. As he reached for the doorknob, a familiar voice
spoke from hallway outside.
"Room service, Mr. Kinney."
Ah, the tasty Mr. Jones. Interesting.
Brian couldn't help smiling at the tingly little rush of blood that
raced through is body as he opened the door. He was licking his lips
before he even laid eyes on the little hottie in the hallway.
Stuart leaned against the doorjamb with a tilted, saucy grin on his
excellent face. He fluttered his thick black lashes once. "Hiya."
"Uh, I didn't order any sex," Brian said, soberly.
"Oh, this is complimentary, Mr. Kinney." Stuart stepped inside and
shut the door behind him. "On the house. We provide this service
for our most well-endowed guests." He stepped right up to Brian and
kissed him wetly, sucking his bottom lip. It felt great and Brian's
nipples got hard.
"Mmmmm," Brian moaned, tasting the sexy Irishman's mouth
hungrily. "God, you are so fucking yummy. And so fucking drunk.
Where's Vince?"
"Home. We're having a row."
"Not about me, I hope."
"Not about you," Stuart said. "Well . . . you were mentioned, but
it's not about you. It's about me, apparently."
"I see," Brian said, walking around the bed and heading back to the
phone. "Vince was wasted last night, you're wasted tonight. Now
you're in a huge argument. I think you two are flipping out about
this whole marriage thing, but-I'm no shrink. Just a layman with an
objective point of view." He picked up the phone and brought it to
his ear. "Katey? Stuey's here. Wanna say hi?"
"Oh my God . . ." Kate groaned. "Put him on. Please."
He held the phone out to Stuart. "Our Kate."
Stuart flopped across the bed, his body nimble from the booze and he
took the phone out of Brian's hand. "Hellooooo, luuuuuuv," he cooed
into the receiver, his fabulous accent running like water off his
lips.
Brian listened to his side of the conversation as he turned off the
television, then laid down on the bed beside Stuart.
"I miss you, too," he said. "No, he's home. We're having a row. He
hates me tonight." Stuart groaned after she'd apparently asked him
what happened. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to fuck
Brian and forget about it all." He looked at Brian with those
twinkly blue eyes and licked his lips suggestively. "Yeah, yeah. He
knows I'm here. He threw about twenty seven million condoms at me as
I left the flat. Such a fucking drama queen."
Brian chuckled at the image of Vince doing that, even though it was
really a pretty bad sign that the argument had indeed been a ripping
one.
"Katey, you know I love you, but I don't want to chat right now. I'm
not in a talking mood." He rolled onto his belly and scooted toward
the end table. "Okay, I love you. I'm hanging up now. Bye. Brian
says bye." He hung up the phone and started giggling like a drunken
sailor. "She is so angry with me right now," he said. "You should
have heard the things she was saying just then."
"Dude. I've heard it all from her," Brian said. "A billion times."
He grabbed Stuart's waistband, hauling him back across the slick
bedspread. "Here, kitty, kitty," he said, playfully. Stuart rolled
over willingly enough, wrapping his lean but very strong legs around
Brian's hips.
Covering Stuart's body with his own, Brian took one naughty liberty
and stroked those satiny, inviting curls.
Stuart giggled. "I'm telling . . ."
He was hard as a rock and his skin was too warm to the touch, like he
was feverish. Brian kissed him, savoring his mouth and tickling his
tongue, moaning softly when Stuart rubbed that hot erection against
his belly. Brian could feel the heat of it even through both their
trousers.
"Christ . . . I need to fuck . . ." Stuart whispered desperately
against his ear. He stroked the skin on Brian's arms, teasing it
with a light touch while his tongue swirled expertly in Brian's mouth.
"I don't like this, Stuart," Brian whispered.
Stuart blinked up at him. "You've got a hard-on, luv. You like some
of it."
"I don't mean that . . . I don't like you being here without Vince
and being all . . . wanton like you are. There's obviously big
trouble in your little paradise and I, for one, do not want to get in
it. Call him and tell him you're here and then let me speak to him."
Stuart sighed and rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake! I have NEVER
had this much fucking trouble getting shagged in my LIFE! Get off
me, if you don't want to. Fuck off." He rolled to the left sharply,
sending Brian rolling to the right with the momentum.
Stuart stomped over to the door and started out but Brian called
after him.
"Wait a minute, you big fucking drama princess! Come back here." He
got to the doorway just in time to see Stuart round the corner for
the elevator. Brian grabbed his room key and trotted down the hall,
but by the time he got to the elevator bay, Stuart was gone. "Fuck.
This is just great." He went back to his room and let himself in
again, circling the bed and grabbing the phone. He dialed their home
number from memory.
* * *
Vince:
The phone ran three times before Vince decided to pick it up. He was
still naked and he walked across the room au natural. "Hel-loh?"
"Hey. It's Brian."
"Oh, hiya."
"Listen, Stuart was just here, man. He told me you were fighting."
"Did you shag him?" Vince said, coolly.
"Easy, now," Brian warned. "He's very drunk and he was pretty much
an incoherent asshole. He tried to fuck me but I told him I wanted
him to call you. Apparently, that plan didn't suit him because he
just stormed out."
"Do you know where he was going?"
"He was cussing at me when he left, Vince. I don't think he was in
the mood to confide."
"Right. Okay, then. Thanks."
"Anything I can do?"
Vince breathed a laugh. "If he comes back to you, please don't shag
him. Call me and I'll come get him."
"All right," Brian said. "Deal."
"Thanks." Vince hung up and heaved an exhausted sigh. The knock on
the door made him jump, as he was still quite naked. He went to the
couch and grabbed the throw blanket, wrapping it around him as he
went to the door. He squinted through the peephole and made out the
distorted image of his mother. More than a little relieved, Vince
opened the door.
"What, were you leaving a trail in case you forget your way home?"
Hazel said, holding up a handful of condoms. "These were scattered
all over the landing down there." She looked him up and down then
smiled, lovingly. "Nice muscle tone, luv. You been working out?"
"Ha ha. Come on in."
"Am I interrupting something?"
"No." He stood aside and let her in, then closed and locked the door.
Hazel turned to him with a sardonic glint in her pretty brown
eyes. "I'm only asking because you're naked and wrapped in a soft
fuzzy blanket. One could easily assume that you were up to something
intimate."
He smiled, weakly. "Stuart's not even here, Mum. I'll just go put
on some clothes. Make yourself at home." He kissed her cheek as he
passed her on the way to the bedroom.
Selecting from the clothing scattered around the room, he put on a
black sweatshirt and a pair of faded Levi's. As he turned to go back
downstairs, Hazel appeared in the doorway.
"Blimey," she said, looking around. "Must have been quite a row."
"And THIS was all before I even knew we were rowwing. I came home to
this!" He could hear the shrillness of his own tone and he hated the
sound of it. He was worried sick.
"What brought this on?"
"He was looking for a jumper I had three years ago because it
reminded him of a night when some bloke was cruising me at
Poptastic. He was going to find the jumper and shred it up. Oh, and
BURN it."
Hazel blinked, bewildered. "Right. I'm sure there's a great deal
more to this than that. How about we have a cup o' tea and you tell
me about this from the beginning." She held out her hand to her son
and he took it, squeezing it gently. "Where is he now, do you know?"
"I have no idea," Vince said. "He stormed out about an hour ago and
went by a friend's . . . who just rang me to say he'd been there."
"Romey?" she asked.
"No," Vince hedged. "Our friend, Brian. He's staying in a hotel,
actually. Visiting from the States."
"Yeah," Hazel said. "I heard about him last night. A friend of
Kate's, right?"
"Right." Vince was a bit puzzled as to how his mother knew all that
about Brian, but he didn't have the energy to ask about it
then. "Anyway, Brian said Stuart had just been at the hotel but he
was only there for a minute and then he went off again. I . . ." he
sighed, miserably. "He's drunk and I'm afraid he took the car. We
were shouting all sorts as he left and I was . . . beyond cross to
him. He was manic. You know how he gets. I should never have let
him go like that."
Hazel walked over to him and folded her son into her arms. "All
right, luv. We'll find him. Don't you worry. Let's go down and see
if he took the car, then we'll go from there."
Vince tried to smile at her because he was so incredibly glad she was
there, but he couldn't manage it. He just hoped she knew how much he
appreciated her help.
They went down to the carport and discovered, to his dismay, that the
Jeep was gone. Things were worse than he thought. Maybe, worse than
he could imagine.
Lisa:
Peering down the hall to see through the storm door glass, Lisa
frowned when she saw Stuart standing on the porch. It was half
passed ten-much too late to visit-and Alfred had just gone to sleep.
She walked to the door reluctantly and opened it, bringing her finger
to her lips to remind him to keep his voice down.
"Your son just went to sleep. It IS after ten."
"I didn't come to see him, anyway," Stuart said. "Is Romey here?"
"Sorry. She's seeing some friends from the university tonight. She
might be back soon, though. I suppose I could tolerate it if you
came in to wait."
Stuart shifted on the porch nervously, putting his hands in his
pockets, then taking them out. He seemed quite agitated and this
disturbed her even further than his mere presence would normally.
"No," he said. "That's all right. Kiss the kid for me." He turned
and walked down the front steps back to where the Jeep was parked at
the curb.
"Do you want me to have her call you?" Lisa asked after him.
"No. Thanks." Stuart got in the car and drove off, leaving Lisa
staring after him with mild concern.
She closed the door and went back down to the lounge where she picked
up the phone and rang Vince.
* * *
Vince:
The phone sounded so loud in the flat that he almost jumped out of
his skin when it rang. Hazel was sitting in the desk chair right
next to it and she kept her eyes on her son as he spoke to the caller.
"Yeah, hello?"
"Vince, hi. It's Lisa."
"Oh, hiya, Lisa. How are you?"
"I'm fine, but . . . Stuart was just here and-"
"Was he?" Vince's heartbeat quickened. "Oh my God, tell me he didn't
take Alfred."
"No, the baby's asleep. He said he came to see Romey but she's out
tonight. I did ask him if he wanted to wait for her, but he just
said no and went off. I . . ." Lisa hesitated. "He seemed to be
acting a bit stranger than usual, so I thought I should ring you. Is
everything all right?"
Vince sighed. "No. We had a terrible row and he left the house
about two hours ago with the Jeep-of course, that wouldn't be so bad
if he wasn't drunk. That's why I was worried he might have taken
Alfred."
"Oh," she said. "No. I wouldn't have let him, anyway, if I knew
he'd been drinking. It's nothing irreconcilable, is it? He hasn't
completely fucked everything up."
Vince wondered if Lisa was secretly hoping they would break up, then
he shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "I just wish he
would come home-or at least ring. His mobile's switched off. Lisa,
if you do see him again, please tell him to call me. All right?"
"Of course," she said. "Do let us know when he finds his way home.
I know Romey will worry."
"'Course I will, yeah. Thanks." He hung up and sighed, looking at
Hazel helplessly. "He was there but Romey's out, so he didn't stay."
"We'll find him," she said. "Where's the next place he might go?"
Vince thought about it. Logically, Stuart's next stop would be a
bar. By that time, he would need to replenish his buzz. Unless he'd
gone back to Brian and Vince didn't want to think about that. "I
don't know," he said. "I just can't tell what he'll do when he's
like this."
"Maybe we should try ringing Nathan. He might be out in the Village
tonight and he can keep his eyes open."
"Does he have a mobile?"
Hazel picked up the phone and dialed Janice Maloney's number.
* * *
Janice:
She heard the phone from the kitchen where she'd just finished
washing up the dinner dishes. Janice hurried into the lounge to grab
it before the ringing woke Helen.
"Hello?"
"Janice, luv, it's Hazel."
"Oh, hi. How nice to hear from you again so soon."
"I know, we do have to see each other more often," Hazel said. "I'm
sorry to ring so late. I hope I didn't wake your daughter."
"I don't think so. She was quite knackered this evening. Is
something wrong? You sound a bit stressed."
"Yes, actually. I'm with Vince and he and Stuart have had a row.
Stuart's run off and we were trying to find him, so I thought perhaps
if Nathan was down in the Village tonight, he might keep an eye out."
"Oh, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to. Did you try him on his
mobile phone?"
"I wasn't sure he had one. Can I get that number from you, luv?"
"Actually, the phone was a gift from Stuart on Nathan's sixteenth."
Janice recited the number from memory and Hazel repeated it back.
"He only just left-at around ten. I know he was going to pick up a
friend and then go down to Canal Street, so you might still catch him
in the car."
"Fine," Hazel said. "Thanks a bunch, luv."
"Hazel-it's nothing serious, is it? Between Vince and Stuart?"
"Well . . . one can never tell. Stuart Alan Jones does love his
tantrums. We'll just have to wait and see, I'm afraid."
"Right," Janice said. "Well, good luck. Give my love to Vince. See
you soon."
"Thanks again." Hazel hung up and Janice let out a long sigh.
Standing there in her quiet suburban house, she wondered how
different her life would be at that moment if her son had never set
eyes on Stuart Jones.
* * *
Nathan:
He had just arrived at Via Fossa when his mobile phone chirped in his
jacket pocket. Taking it out, he glanced at the display and saw
Stuart's name there. His heart raced as he pressed the SEND button
and brought the phone to his ear.
"Yeah, this is Nathan. Stuart?"
"No, luv, it's Hazel Tyler. I'm on Vince and Stuart's phone, though."
"Oh. Hiya, Hazel. How are you? Mum says she had fun out with you
last night."
"Yes, we had a very nice time. Listen, Nathan where are you?"
"Just going in Via Fossa. Are you lot coming down?"
"Not tonight. Darling, I need you to do us a favor, all right?"
"Yeah, `course," Nathan said, stopping in front of the entrance and
giving the call his full attention. Something was wrong with her
tone. "What's going on?"
"Would you mind keeping an eye out for Stuart?" Hazel said. "He and
Vince had a little disagreement and he's run off. We think he might
come down there at some point this evening and if he does, please let
us know. Will you do that?"
"'Course I will, yeah. They didn't break up, did they?"
She sighed. "I don't think so. But we really need to find him, so
if you see him-please call us at their flat. All right?"
"Right. Talk to you later, then."
"Thanks, luv. Oh-and Nathan?"
"Yeah?"
"If you do see him, don't you DARE shag him." She hung up in his ear.
Nathan rolled his eyes and pocketed the phone. Glancing up and down
the street, he wondered where he should start looking. If he were
Stuart, where would he be right then?
* * *
Hazel:
Folding her hands on the desk next to the phone, she tried to think
if they had all their bases covered. "Have we missed anyone?" she
asked Vince.
Her son was pacing in the kitchen holding a bottle of water but not
drinking it. "Brian, Romey, Nathan. I . . . can't think where else
he would go."
"What about this Brian, then?" she said. "Who is he?"
Vince looked at her from across the room, his handsome face sad and
vulnerable. "I think the whole truth about Brian might fall under
the category of `too much information', Mum. I dunno if you want to
know that much about us."
"He's a shag, then," Hazel said. "A threesome partner."
He looked down a bit shyly. "Blimey, forgot who I was talking to for
a minute."
Hazel gave him a playful wink, then she stood up and walked into the
kitchen. "So, was this Stuart's idea? Having a threesome with this
Brian bloke?"
"Err, no, actually."
She squinted at him, fighting a grin that tugged her lips. "Why you
little rascal, Vincent. Who'd have thought?"
He blushed and groaned miserably. "God . . . I can't believe we're
talking about this."
"Oh, like I've never heard anything like it before! Did you think I
didn't know you and Stuart were shagging? You can't keep your hands
off each other when you're in the same room-and the truth is, you
never really could. And with his appetite-" She lowered her chin
and looked at him conspiratorially. "Let's just say, I figured you
would have to get a bit creative to keep his interest this long."
"What about my interest?" Vince asked, mildly. "Everyone's always
saying that about me having to work so hard to keep Stuart's
interest. But what about MINE? Did anyone ever think that maybe I
might get bored of him?"
Hazel smiled patiently. "No, luv. No one with eyes in their head
would ever think that. Sorry."
He pouted like a little boy, as he could only do with her. "Thanks a
lot." Finally he took a drink from the water bottle he'd been
holding for ten minutes.
"I hear this Brian came from that Kate. Stuart's American friend
that I didn't like."
"Yeah," Vince said. "They met at Kate's house when Stuart was in New
York."
"And . . . did they shag when he was there?"
He took another drink then set the bottle on the counter. "Not
exactly. But they did . . . some things. Enough so that we sort
of . . . well, we both fancied him. Brian, I mean. So, we sort
of . . ."
He was hesitating so much that Hazel felt sorry for him and held up
her hand. "Never mind, luv. You don't need to tell me. I can
gather the rest. This threesome happened last night?"
Vince nodded, seeming to be grateful that he didn't have to explain
it all in words.
"Have you two been with Brian before?"
"Not in person," he said. "We've just talked on the phone and email
and stuff."
"Ah," Hazel teased, wiggling her eyebrows. "Trans-Atlantic phone
sex. I bet you and Stuart are BT's favorite customers."
"He really fancies Stuart," Vince told her. "I think more than he
wants to. They're a lot alike, him and Brian."
"Sluts?" she offered.
Vince chuckled. "Mum! That's my fiancé you're talking about."
Hazel's eyes widened and she gaped at her son. "Fiancé? Oh, THANKS
for telling me!!! When did this happened?"
"In Scotland. I did it, actually. I know he was planning to-
EVERYONE thought he would be the one to propose, which is really
stupid if you think about it. I'M the one who's been in love for
seventeen years. But, I did it. And it was lovely. He cried."
"And he said yes, apparently."
"'Course he did. He WAS going to ask me."
She hugged him tightly. "That's just grand, luv. We have to have a
HUGE party now!"
Vince sighed, looking into her eyes. "He has to come home first."
"Right," she said, her attention returning to the crisis at
hand. "Make your old mum a cup o' tea and we'll try to think of who
else we should call."
Vince put the kettle on.
* * *
Brian:
Brian was just slipping on his jacket to go out to Canal Street for a
bit when he heard the tentative knock on his hotel room door. More
of a tapping, really. Not a very committed sound at all. It was
almost eleven and he felt pretty certain of who he would find out in
the hallway.
Stuart stood in the same spot he was before, leaning against the
doorjamb and grinning that irresistible crooked grin.
"Thought you might come back," Brian said. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Stuart said, shrugging like there was no reason to fuss.
"So, you blew out of here like a raving nutball an hour ago just for
laughs?" Brian said, playfully, gently.
Stuart just batted his pretty eyes and then let them pass over
Brian's body, covetously. "Goin' out?" he asked.
"I thought I might. It's my last night in Manchester, after all. I
didn't really see much of Canal Street last night." He returned that
crooked grin and added a little flutter of his own eyelashes.
Stuart ate it up and took a step toward him in the doorway. "I'll go
with you, if you want," he said, tilting his chin to look up at Brian-
who was almost a head taller than him. Brain was taller than a lot
of people.
"Let's go then." Grabbing the room key, Brian followed Stuart into
the hallway, wondering if he should call Vince then or wait until
they were down in the Village. He felt like he'd captured a fugitive
and he knew he had to keep the escaped prisoner calm until the
authorities arrived with their restraining devices.
Of course, Brian always had the option of not alerting the
authorities at all. He could just have his way with this luscious
Irishman and then get on a plane back to Pittsburgh and never mention
anything about it. He could do that. But he didn't think he would.
For some reason, he knew Stuart was in pain and he needed
assistance. The cause of the hurt was inconsequential to Brian
Kinney, but the symptoms were plain to see. Besides, he liked Vince
too much to go back on his word.
Outside the hotel, Brian insisted on driving Stuart's Jeep. The
brunette raised a mild argument before turning over the keys but in
the end he seemed relieved to be a passenger. After a few moments of
adjustment to being on the other side of the vehicle AS WELL AS on
the other side of the road, Brian found his groove and was able to
drive without any trouble.
After all, he had a Jeep just like it waiting in his parking space at
home.
* * *
Nathan:
Standing at the bar at Babylon he continued to scan the crowd,
looking for any sign of the wayward Irishman. The idea that he might
gain some favor with Vince if he WAS the one to find Stuart certainly
had not been lost on Nathan. He was on a mission. If Stuart Jones
was down in the Village, Nathan Maloney was going to find him.
Finishing his drink, he moved away from the bar and began another lap
of the club with his eyes looking everywhere at once.
* * *
Vince:
He and Hazel had finally finished putting away all the clothes Stuart
had thrown around the bedroom and were sitting on the floor in front
of the dresser, carefully reconnecting one of the bottom drawers to
its runner. It was nearly midnight and there had been no reports
from any one of their friends. Vince was getting scared.
Once they'd righted that drawer, they both looked at each other and
breathed a sigh for their accomplishment. Hazel looked around the
neat bedroom and shook her head.
"It took us almost an hour to put this place back together," she
said. "But he probably wrecked it in the blink of a bleedin' eye."
"Hurricane Stuart," Vince said and they both smiled.
She grunted as she stood up, supporting her weight with her hand on
the foot of the bed until she was standing on both feet. Hazel
stretched and yawned, then she looked down at one of the framed
photos placed on the dresser. Picking it up, she smiled at the image
there.
"Now, THIS is quite fetching, luv," she said, turning the photo
around so he could see it.
Vince cringed and felt his cheeks heat up as he looked at the photo
in the frame. It was the one Stuart took in the bathtub that they
had emailed to Brian the week before. "Thanks," he said, covering
his face.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Vinnie. I changed your diapers for years,
don't forget. I've seen your pee pee." She set the frame back where
it belonged then picked up the one sitting next to it. "Did I take
this? I must have done. This is at my house. Oh, I remember! This
was the first night Stuart stayed over with you. You'd only known
each other for about a month, but he was all I ever heard about.
Stuart this, Stuart that. Christ! You were smitten from the
word `go'."
Vince knew she was teasing him and trying to cheer him up, but he
found he couldn't smile anymore. He felt heavy inside and he ached
for Stuart. He hated it when they fought, even though he knew it was
a necessary evil for any relationship as intense as theirs. Fighting
led to making up and making up was the best thing ever. Beside that,
the air was always so much clearer after a good row. That feeling of
having a clean slate was worth almost any sort of pain.
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