Cal

By Secret Writer

Published on Aug 29, 2014

Gay

/*****

Cal - part 7

Notes from the author:

Hi there, this is my first story for nifty - so please let me know what you think. It's weirdly lonely when you have no idea what anyone thinks of your work.

You can contact me at secret_writer@outlook.com


I don't know if this will go anywhere, but I'm considering publishing this story as an ebook (when it's finished, and after some editing of course) and wondered what you guys thought? If I do, I'm going to need some artwork for the cover too, so if you know anyone.....


All the usual disclaimers apply, if you shouldn't be reading this then don't. And if you don't like this kind of content, well really, WTF are you doing here?

The previous episodes in this story can be found here: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/cal

And don't forget, if you enjoy this story (or even if you don't but have found some other stuff you like) then think about supporting the site at http://donate.nifty.org

*****/

----- end of part 6 -----

"Oh. My. God. Did you both see that. Davey! Are you in love?"

"What!? I never said that..."

"No, you didn't say it with words."

I decided that I'd probably been gone long enough. and also, I wasn't sure I wanted to listen to any more. So I walked back to the table from my temporary hide-out. All four of them were just looking at me, and not speaking?

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing" said Davey, "come and sit down".

He grabbed my hand, pulling me close to him, and put his arm around me. There was definitely a few exchanged looks between the four of them before more normal conversation continued.


A couple of weeks went by, all very easy, very nice, and yeah, kinda boring. I talked to Jen a lot about this stuff, even though I'm still not really sure why. But it seemed that lots of our talking always came back to the same - pretty fucking obvious - solution. I need to get a job. My usually excellent skills at being evasive never really seemed to work with Jen, so I ended up telling her about being in prison, and how that probably meant it would be really hard to get proper work. And as usual, she totally ignored that and kept pointing out that it was even more likely that I'd not get a job if I never actually tried.

Davey, of course, said I could go and work for him. But that seemed like a fucking stupid idea. A nice one, or perhaps just an easy one, but still fucking stupid. I mean, what the fuck do I know about any of the stuff he does? I don't even know what he 'actually' does. And besides, I don't want to feel like I owe him or something. I know, that kinda sounds like I'm an ungrateful little bastard - but if I'm going to have a real job, I want to get it myself, not because I'm fucking the boss. OK, so 'technically', he's fucking me, but you know what I mean.

So anyway, I started applying for jobs. Jeez - do you know how fucking depressing that is? Apart from having to fill in the same information like a million times, no-one ever gets back to you! Like seriously, ever. So I'm supposed to spend hours of my life filling in your crappy form just so that you can't even be bothered to send me a crappy fucking email telling me that you're not interested in employing a criminal? What a joke. But I did it anyway. Both Jen and Davey were really helpful actually. They managed to make it sound like I'm a proper nice person with real skills and shit. And between them, I had some seemingly respectable references. A little bit of lying is part of the process isn't it? But the unavoidable part was always the form where you have to state if you have any convictions. I seriously thought about just lying about this as well, but then Davey pointed out that if ever anyone found out I'd probably be fired, and that would be even harder to explain.

I guess I applied for 30 or 40 jobs - you know, kinda shitty jobs, working in bars, clubs, call centres, all low level stuff. After all - I've never actually had a real job, and surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be a 'Professional Vehicle Acquisition' opening anywhere legitimate. I have almost no qualifications, and a criminal record. I knew it was going to be tough. But wow - I wasn't really expecting it to be sooo fucking bad. Almost no-one even bothered telling me to fuck off. You just get nothing back at all. It's a totally depressing process. And the longer it goes on for, the less picky you get. Believe me. But then I had just the tiniest bit of luck. I phoned up for an application form for this bar job, which they posted out to me. I know - like who posts shit to people these days? Not like actual shit, you know what I mean. But anyway, I'm fucking pleased they did. Because they forgot the additional forms. What usually happened, is you have the application form, and then a couple of extra ones - you know, what colour are you, are you gay, are you disabled, that kind of stuff, and then one for any medical conditions, and then the one for any convictions. But they were all missing. I guess someone just missed them by accident, but I knew it was an opportunity. So I sent off the application form. And then I waited. And waited some fucking more. Nothing. Bollocks.

Two weeks later, it's a Saturday morning. I'm making pancakes for breakfast - because thanks to Davey I can now make pancakes and scrambled eggs that actually taste pretty fucking nice. Yeah - that's right, I'm just awesome. Ha ha ha. Scarlett is sitting on the floor next to me, apparently expecting me to cook her something too - even though I'm pretty sure that's never fucking happened. Anyway, it was a nice morning, we had nothing in particular planned in the day, and then Davey's Mum and brother were coming over for dinner. I'm pretty nervous about this - I've met Mary, that's Davey's Mum, and Ben, his brother, exactly once. It didn?t go so smoothly, as I told her that her son was "pretty fucking awesome" and "fit as fuck". Of course, I had no idea who she was at the time, and it was massively embarrassing. But she was pretty relaxed about the whole thing.

Davey came in with the post, and there was a letter for me, which was kinda unusual. I'd already had the bank cards through - and no, I'm still not real happy about that situation, so I try and avoid using them. So there I am, looking at the envelope, wondering what it might be. I looked to Davey, wondering if he had ordered me something else.

"Don't look at me, I don't know what it is."

So I opened it, obviously. What else was going to happen?

And there it was. The letter inviting me in for an interview on Monday. Jeez - what if I had plans, that's really short notice. Not that I do have plans of course. Davey was probably more excited than I was, but I was pretty fucking happy about it. I explained to Davey about the missing forms and everything, and he pointed out that we had been to this place before, it was the fancy hotel bar. I remembered it, but hadn't made the connection. Yeah, that place. The place where Davey very nearly told his friends he was in love with me. And also the place where I heard him telling them how he was worried about me because he see's me looking sad. I guess I'm not always as good at hiding things from people as I think I am. But it bothered me, still does really. I mean, I don't want him thinking that I'm unhappy. Yeah, there's a load of crap in my life, but Davey - well he's just fucking awesome. Like with no exaggeration at all he is definitely the best thing that has ever fucking happened to me. Like seriously, ever. I dunno if I love him. I guess I don't really know what that's like. I know that I can't imagine being without him, and I really really care about him, and about what he feels about me. He makes me feel special, and wanted, and loved, and generally amazing. And I trust him. Not that I go around telling him all this stuff, obviously. I'm not a fucking freak. Jeez - I gotta stop before I'm crying again.

"So after breakfast we'll go in to town with Scarlett." Davey clearly had a plan.

"What for?"

"Shopping - you're going to need some new clothes for the job interview."

"Right, yeah, I suppose." I hadn't really thought about it, but he's probably right.

"But there's no way I can wear a suit Davey - don?t make me buy a suit."

"OK, maybe not a suit. But something more formal than the stuff you have at the moment. I know a few places, you'll be fine."

So that's what we did, with Scarlett in tow. She wasn't ever so happy to be walking around town with us, I think she prefers the park where it's quiet and peaceful, where she can have time to think things through. Yeah, OK, so fucking what, maybe that's me. We went to about a million shops that I've never heard of, and where the average age of the staff was about 93. I didn't find anything I would ever consider wearing. Davey was always finding nice stuff, but it was all stuff that he would look great in, and I'd look like I was on my way to court. Finally we found a shop that I actually liked. It wasn't full of business suits, and the guy who served us was like a normal age. In fact, I guess he was not much older than me. He came over and was all super nice and polite, but he kept looking at me in a kind of weird way. I briefly wondered if I actually recognised him. Maybe I'd fucked him? Who fucking knows? It's not like I keep a list. He was off fetching a variety of things for me to try.

"Do you know him?" Davey asked me.

"No, I don't think so, why?" Which was true.

"Because he seems like he knows you, or at least, maybe he want to know you." I could tell that Davey was joking, or at least, not concerned that this guy might be flirting with me.

"Fuck off Davey" I said with a smile. "I can't help it if I'm irresistible can I?"

"No, I guess not." Davey gave me just the briefest kiss on the cheek, which immediately sent me all super-fucking-mushy inside.

The shop boy came back, and had done a great job finding exactly the stuff I wanted. I tried a few combinations before I was happy, but in the end, I think I looked fucking sharp. Smart - definitely, kinda formal, kinda serious, and kinda out of my comfort zone. And definitely not boring or stuck up. The tailored dark grey trousers made my arse look amazing - which of course it is anyway. A nicely cut long sleeve shirt - I didn't want my tattoos and scars to get in the way. Apparently the colour is called 'brilliant midnight azure'. I'd call it a kind of bright and slightly shiny dark blue. And then a tailored jacket which matched the trousers, but which is way more cool than a suit jacket. Shiny black shoes and my diamond eyebrow piercing and I'm all set. I never did work out the shop boy. Maybe I had fucked him before, maybe he just fancied me, maybe he was just really nice. Who knows. But it's always a kinda cool thing when someone seems into you, right?

No-one was more pleased than Scarlett when we set off back home, and we detoured through the park so that she could get some proper exercise. I really love those moments - me and Davey walking through the park, throwing an endlessly fascinating stick for Scarlett to fetch, carry, and generally run around with. The way that Davey puts his arm around me, or hold my hand. It's just so natural and warm, and fucking nice.

Back home, dinner wasn't ever so complicated, so it was an easy and relaxed afternoon, and before I knew it, Davey's Mum was buzzing the door. To be honest, I was actually fairly nervous about the whole evening, and I think Davey knew that. I was stood in the lounge flicking through to find some suitable music when Mary and Ben walked in, closely followed by Davey.

"Mum, Ben, Cal - you've all met before right?" Davey sounded light hearted, but I realised that he was a little nervous too - although I have no idea why.

"Yes Davey - I remember." Mary was heading towards me. "You made quite an impression."

I wasn't really sure how to take that, although it felt like it was probably insulting. But putting all of my recent practice at choosing how to react in to action, I smiled politely as we kissed on both cheeks. She's one of those people. No, actually, that sounds bad, she's real nice.

"Be nice Mum." Ben was giving me a hug - in a very manly kind of way. "It's good to see you again Cal."

"Thanks, it's nice to see you both too."

"Things rapidly got a lot more relaxed, probably because there was plenty of alcohol, but so what, the whole thing seemed to be going OK. Ben turns out to be a really nice guy. Kinda cute, but nowhere as beautiful as Davey is. Dinner was slow and leisurely, and came with far too much wine. Mary was helping Davey clear away some things into the kitchen despite his instructions for her to just let him do it.

"So you know that she's talking to Davey about you right?" Ben as shifted closer to me, and wasn't really whispering, but was clearly making an effort for them not to hear him talking to me.

"Yeah, I guess she might be."

"It's guaranteed. She's mentioned you a few times since the party."

"Sure she has - I think I made a bit of a twat of myself with your Mum."

"No, I think it's OK. But you know how Mum's can be, she's just a little over-protective."

Well actually, no, I don't fucking know how that is. My Mum is a fucking alcoholic who more or less abandoned me and I haven't spoken to her for years.

"Yeah, I guess." It was about all I could manage to say, but I think that perhaps Ben could see there was a lot more.

"Sorry - I didn't mean..."

"No, really, it's OK. It's just that my Mum isn't really like that, but it's great that you guys all get on so well. You all seem to really like each other."

Ben looked like he was picking his words carefully, taking an extra few seconds before he said anything else.

"The thing is Cal, Davey hasn't been like this for, well, since the accident. It's kind of a big deal. I wish I knew how you did it. I mean - not the details - but you know what I mean."

I didn't have to answer, because Davey came back in, closely followed by Mary, and normal conversation resumed. Which was pretty great timing as far as I was concerned, because I don't think I have an answer. I don't think I've done anything at all, I'm just me. As far as I can see, Davey is the most amazing guy in the world, and I'm just happy to be part of it. We were still sitting around the table as I was working through these thoughts when I felt Davey's hand on my thigh. Turning slightly to look at him, he leant in and whispered to me. I'm not even sure that Mary and Ben saw it.

"I love you Cal."

Fuck. He said it. Just - like - there, in the middle of the evening, with no-one else paying much attention. I looked at him. I didn't say anything. Holy fucking bolloxy fuck. I still didn't say anything. A second passed, two, three, more. I still haven't said anything. I know that my mouth has opened as if I'm about to say something, but words have not actually yet come out. I was starting to panic. I'm fairly certain that I could actually feel my heart beat getting louder, and bigger, and faster. Maybe I was going to explode. Fuck - I knew it. I realised immediately that as far as I could tell, I loved him too. And not like a teenage girl sending someone a shitty heart shaped photo frame - proper, full on, oh-my-fucking-hell love. But how do I say that? How do I explain to someone that I feel like they are everything? And not in a totally reliant, I can't even exist without you way. But in a real and genuine, you make me a whole person, a better person kind of way. And now I'm thinking that maybe this is the longest time EVER that someone hasn't spoken. But as much as I knew it, and felt it, and wanted to, I couldn't say it. I was fucking terrified.

And then it was gone. The moment. Someone said something, I don't know who or what, but the moment was broken. Total bollocks. Now I couldn't say it even if I wanted to. And I did want to. I just couldn't.

The evening went on, and everything seemed to return to normal. Except I was convinced that Davey was now upset about his unreturned declaration. I realised that I wasn't dealing so well with this, so I stepped outside for a few minutes. I really needed a joint. Yeah, I know, but don't fucking judge me, I'm really stressed and it helps. As it happens, and not that you asked, I've been cutting back on my weed intake - I figure having a job is going to get in the way of smoking quite so much, so maybe I should start now. I'd only managed a couple of drags when I heard a noise. I assumed it was probably Scarlett coming to check what I was doing - she does that. It was, and she had brought Ben with her. I laughed to myself about that, the idea that a dog could bring a person with them somewhere.

"You OK?" It was Ben, not Scarlett, obviously. I gotta admit, I was kinda surprised, but I guessed he just wanted to crash some of my weed.

"Yeah, I'm all good." In an effort to sound more convincing, but after just that moment too long for it to really work I added "Thanks."

"It's just that you seemed a little freaked out earlier, what happened?"

Another long drag, the weed was doing it's thing, my head was slowing down. I sometimes imagine that somehow my thoughts get all spiky and sharp, and smoking weed is like laying a really thick warm blanket over the top of them, so that they're a little bit softer and don't hurt quite so much.

"It was nothing, I'll be OK."

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"Well, no, it's not really nothing. So you heard?" I offered the last third of my joint to Ben.

"No thanks, I don't smoke. But yes, I heard. You shouldn?t worry so much about it - Davey a pretty cool guy. And it's pretty obvious how you feel."

"It is?"

"Well, errr, yeah."

"So? How do I feel?" I guess I partly wanted to test him, but also to know for myself.

"Really? OK then. You're totally in love with my brother. Something that I don't fully understand, but hey, I guess I'm not supposed to. And you're scared, I don't know what of, but I guess maybe you've had some bad experiences before. But Davey is to totally good guy, I promise."

"Wow. You do know how fucking weird this is, having this conversation with his brother?"

"Yeah, maybe, but I think you need a friend, that's all. I like you."

I couldn't hold back the questioning confused expression. He likes me?

What does that mean?

"No, not like that you freak. You might be pretty, but that doesn't mean that everyone wants to fuck you."

"Yeah, OK, well...that's cool then." I gotta say, even though I didn't really think it would happen, I was relieved that he really did just mean as a friend.

"So...you think I'm pretty?" I know, it was kind of mean, but it was fun.

"Well, you know, you're a good looking guy, that's all I meant."

Ben was being all serious but then realised that I was just taking the piss out of him for saying it and punched me on my arm. Not hard, you know, just messing. For whatever reason, it was that moment that kind of made the most sense to me. I guess he was right, I did need a friend.

But I wasn't really sure it should / could / would be Ben.

It's kinda weird if I'm friends with my boyfriend's brother isn't it?

"So?" Ben asked.

"What?"

"Am I right? About how you feel?"

"Yeah, I guess you're pretty fucking close to the truth." I took another big drag of the joint.

"So what's with the look of terror thing you had going on earlier?"

"I dunno, it's all new you know, and it's taking me some time to get my head around stuff."

"Come on, lets head back inside." And we did. Weirdly, it was as if we just didn't need to say any more.

"Hey - where have you two been?" Davey was opening another bottle of something as he asked.

"Nowhere." We both answered together and then burst out laughing like a couple of kids. I should remember that I already know this - weed and alcohol are a bad idea together. But Davey and Mary both laughed, probably at us, but who cared. I felt a bit more relaxed. It's hard to explain, but just knowing that Ben had noticed and seemed to understand actually made me feel better.

It was kinda late by the time they went home, around 1.30am in the morning. Davey decided that we didn't need to tidy too much, it would all be OK until the morning. All we had to do was put the food away, otherwise Scarlett would be eating everything, and it's not good for her.

We got in to bed, and I put my arm over Davey, pulling myself close to him as he was laying on his back. I felt like I wanted to talk to him about what happened earlier in the evening, to try and explain. But it's hard to find the words for stuff you hardly understand. I'm not sure how long we lay like that as I tried to find a way to start, but in the end it was Davey who spoke first.

"Are we OK Cal?"

What? How did he even need to ask that!? Oh, yeah, right, because I'm so fucking bad at talking about shit. I remember. Maybe he should just read this huh?

"Yeah, we're all good." Another pause. I dunno why I have to think so fucking much some times.

"It's just that...you kinda freaked me out earlier."

"I noticed, but I just wanted to..."

"No, Davey, just listen. I think it's totally fucking awesome that you feel like that, that you love me. I just got kinda scared. I wanted to say it back, but I've never felt like this before, and to be honest, I don't really know what it is. I don't know if I love you, because I've never done it before, not like this. I know that I owe you pretty much everything I have right now, and that I can't imagine not being with you, and I really, REALLY don't want this to stop. I can imagine being with you forever, you're super fucking important to me, like you're a part of me that I never really knew was missing until I met you."

Davey sat up a little, laying on his side, facing towards me, as I carried on.

"I dunno exactly what's in it for you, I mean, look at me, I don't really have anything to offer. But you, you are amazing. I can't really believe that it's true - sometimes I think that maybe that night I got beaten up, I'm still in hospital in some kind of weird freaky drug induced coma and this all a fucked up dream. But if it's not, I'm real happy about that."

I know that I'm doing it again. Talking too much. But suddenly, there was a lot to say.

"I mean it. I'm really happy. I know that you worry about that, but you don't need to. I'm sad because my life doesn't look much like yours, you know with friends, and a family, and all that normal stuff. I remember when I thought that my life would be like that, when I was a kid, but it didn't work out so good. So yeah, it makes me sad some times when I think about that. But right now, for real, my actual life now, there's no way I could happier."

We stayed there, just looking at each other for a few seconds.

"You know that you talk too much some times? And you're totally wrong about one part - you don't owe me anything." And with that, Davey kissed me. Soft, gentle, warm, with love. But that quickly went out the fucking window as we both got pretty heavy into it real quick. Davey reached towards my cock and I grabbed his hand to stop him. He looked a bit like kicked puppy.

"We are SO going to finish this, but before I get just too fucking horny for it to mean anything - I love you."

"You do?"

"Ab-so-fucking-lutely. Now stop you're never-ending talking and fuck me.

You talk too much you know."

I think my smile was about a foot wide. And that's what we did. Fuck.

It was awesome, as it always seemed to be. But this time, I dunno, there was something different going on in the background. You know, maybe a small choir of angels. Ha ha ha ha ha.

Next: Chapter 8


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