Eastbourne Tales

By Chris Lydon

Published on Jul 16, 2024

Gay

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Feedback is nice, but not mandatory. I am being asked more about Kevin McHenchy, so I'll write a bit about him in this one. Great guy, good friend, amazing quasi-boyfriend... and the rats... ok

Eastbourne Tales – 03

Jimmy met Kevin one night at the Hartingdon, (honestly I can't remember if that's the right spelling, but hey only gay pub in Eastbourne so I can't go that far wrong). The guy was flirting with a guy named Gary, and somehow Jimmy had become a wingman, to which guy he wasn't sure, but he was happy to help.

Now Jimmy was a coke fiend, not the drug but the soft drink. (as if anyone could actually afford the other kind when a DOS-ser). He scrimped and saved and nursed a coke for most of a Friday night. His friend Dickie (by name and by nature) always marvelled at how Jimmy could have an entire night out on a pound, when others spent loads of money getting nowhere but hammered.

He watched the two would be lovers? Not the right word, fuck-bunnies? One-night-stand to be -ers... God dating sucked... or didn't suck at least for Jimmy at that point.

Kevin was lanky, cute, face like a hampster, always on the edge of lying about something. Not to be mean or anything, to to manipulate, but to hide himself. Jimmy always got that feeling from him. Kevin was afraid of something, never committing his true self in case he was rejected. He was a moth fluttering on the edge of the flame so close to getting burned that he shied away from anything real.

To Jimmy, Kevin was a pull. An attraction, something that drew him in. There was an energy there. Something that just made him sit up and take notice. Why not, the guy was sexy as hell, lanky and all legs. The sidelong glances he kept giving to Jimmy always seemed to just know something. Something that said more than any words could.

Fuck, Jimmy just wanted this Gary prick to either commit to the deal, or fuck the fuck off. He was a braggart, posing in his Ben Sherman shirt, new tiny cell phone, and posh better-than-you attitude. Ok so Jimmy was probably a little jealous, why not though? He was poor, scruffy, and wouldn't get a cell phone for at least another five years or so. Some people had all the advantage stuffed into their boxer briefs to compensate for other disadvantage. (Jimmy had it on good authourity that Gary was -ahem- not the biggest present to unwrap under the tree). Bitter much?

Jimmy tried to distance himself from thoughts about Gary and Kevin, after all they were set to hook up and he was... well... not going to get anywhere with that hot mess of pheromones, compensation, and horniness. Perhaps he could hit on one of the really good looking older guys a little further down the bar. Or maybe excuse himself to find another seat... or a guy.

Gary suddenly stiffened, something Kevin had said that set him on edge. Jimmy hadn't been listening... but he knew enough to realize that whatever it was, Kevin had just blown his shot. Now that was suddenly interesting, watching the posh poser getting more an more uncomfortable as he tried to extricate himself from the conversation. A quick glance following his eyes, showed he was looking at another guy, argueably hotter, sexier, or just a simple upgrade. The bastard had seen a better prospect and fuck poor old Kevin.

"What a jackass," Jimmy murmured as Gary broke away, slithering up to his new target and abandoning Kevin cold.

Kevin looked confused at what had just happened, glancing first at Jimmy who nodded to the new comer, before realizing what had just happened.

"Prick," Kevin replied in agreement. "My luck with guys."

Jimmy smiled at him, "You're worth better than that."

A million-watt smile suddenly shone on the scruffy teenager, "yeah?"

jimmy balked, a bit taken-aback at the sudden, glowing attention. "Uh, yeah," he said as if it were obvious. "You're in a much-better league than he is. Least he's gonna get shot down with that new guy."

They both watched with some merriment as Gary was trying and failing to keep the new guy's attention. He was the one now trying to shoot high only to fall flat. Served him right for being so shallow.

Kevin bumped Jimmy's shoulder with his own, "What's your deal, then?"

"Me?" Jimmy looked up from his bar-stool and coke. "I'm just... well... I'm a writer."

"Written anything?" Kevin asked, striking right at the tender underbelly of Jimmy's statement.

"Yeah, a while ago," Jimmy replied. "Short stories... but that was in High School."

"High school?" Kevin asked. "Like all-American High School? Thought I heard an accent."

Jimmy flushed, "I was born near Leeds, on an army base, uh, went to Canada when I was tweleve, came back when I graduated... well University drop-out... and now I er..."

Kevin tilted his head, his eyes were soft, understanding. "I get it, caught in the too-smart but not educated enough spot, huh? I see it all the time."

"Oh?" Jimmy quizzed, suddenly feeling more drawn to the real guy next to him than the quick shag potential.

"Civil Servant," Kevin admitted in a hushed tone. "Don't tell anyone, I'll be branded a geek for the rest of my life and never get laid."

"I don't know about that," Jimmy said with a look that said there was NO CHANCE of that with him. Kevin was something different, different to the bar-flies, disco-puppies, or twink de-jour that floated into and out of Jimmy's life so far. "You like it?"

"Working the Dole desk?" Kevin asked, shaking his head. "Hell no, between the bullshit and the abuse, I'm just doing my time till I can get promoted to something better, less direct face-to-face. Might get into the social loan side of things... least there I have some fake bullet-proof glass between me and a guy who wants to punch me because he couldn't be bothered to do the bare-minimum."

The frustration in Kevin's voice cause Jimmy pause. There was genuine feelings there, Kevin was too young to be in such a soul crushing monotonous job. But needs must, and work was work.

"Must be some upsides though?" Jimmy asked.

"Well I do get a smoke-break when I want one," Kevin said. "I don't smoke, though given everything else, I think I should start..." He realized he was still resting his shoulder on Jimmy's, but didn't move away, he just leaned a bit more into it.

"Another?" the soft spoke, wizened and relaxed bar-tender interjected, directed at Kevin, he knew Jimmy's one-coke maximum, and knew better than to ask. Though he often slipped Jimmy a refill on the sly, when the publican wasn't looking. He was fond of the scruffy kid, and wanted him to get on.

Kevin nodded, and gestured if Jimmy wanted one.

Jimmy shook his head politely, "Only got enough for one, so can't repay you," he replied. "Plus I drive."

"Fancy," Kevin grinned. "Bentley, Rolls or?"

Jimmy burst out laughing, "Rover, eighty-nine vintage."

Kevin chuckled as he paid for his new drink and accepted the pint in return. "Well you can give me a lift home, later."

The bar-tender flashed Jimmy a congratulatory wink, as he moved off to more lucrative customers, glad to see two of his favourite boys finding each other.

Kevin reached over and took Jimmy's round spectacles off of his nose, huffed on them and cleaned them with his sleeve, before settling them back on Jimmy's face. "Sorry, they were bothering me."

Jimmy didn't mind the very intimate gesture, something warm and caring about Kevin had him accept it. A feeling, perhaps, that there was something more in the air. He looked at Kevin for a moment and reached out to rest a hand on Kevin's hip.

Just like that, something had begun that was last a long time for them both. For the briefest of moments they didn't say anything, just existed together. Drinking and watching the bar around them. Both guys too smart for their own good, too self-aware to just relax. They simply took the moment for what it was, and enjoyed the intimacy of being next to each other as friends in the making.

They'd never be able to commit to one another, life would never allow that in the long term. Both boys were destined for different things and stranger places. But a firm love would grow between them for the time they were 'together' and that was enough to cement memories. I admit, as the writer here a quarter of a century later, I often think of Kevin and what I lost, took for granted, or just ballsed up. But I do know what I had with him was real. If he ever reads this and recognizes himself and the scruffy Canadian he would regularly kiss, you were magic. Your favourite expression. Magic indeed.

You, the reader came for a more intimate ride, tell you what, next chapter sure. But what Kevin and I had, well, that's ours.

Christopher P Lydon More of my work: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-william-carter/

Next: Chapter 4


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