A Comedy of Terrors
Cast of Characters
John Lawless: (now ex-cop) Now runs a detective agency.
Terry Bowers: (psycho) I got him now out of NZ, living a fairly respectable life.
Dave Bruford: best bud to John. Still a cop, Detective Constable
Willy Kaa: Maouri, small time crook. Handles weed (or rather New Zealand
green AKA Electric Puha) and stolen tv's etc
Paul Davidson: best bud to Willy. John's last girlfriend's brother (Sonya, who killed herself before the end of the TV movie, but well after Terry kissed John.
Jodie Keane: ex-clerk with the police.. John's partner in the detective agency.
The early morning light streamed into John Lawless' bedroom. Blanketing the bed's solitary occupant with an almost golden light. The birds sang, riotously, right outside the window. The air was still, not a breath of wind, which wasn't too bad for an early August morning. It was the very start of spring, if you wanted to be up beat about the season, rather than late winter.
None of which mattered to John. Not while he was thinking about his lover, and had a tight hand, clenched around his morning erection, chanting his lover's name as he moved against himself. Wishing it could be more.
"Terry, Terry, Terry. God, shit, fuck, love you, you bastard. Want you, fuck, now!"
His immanent climax was rudely interrupted by the hammering a fist was giving his front door, followed, almost inexorably, by a voice he recognised very well indeed.
"Git yer han'doff yer dick, ya' cheesy git, and open the bloody door!" Willy Kaa would never know how close he came to either death, or giving John a heart attack.
His voice did dissipate the near climax however.
John, lay back in his bed, for a mere second, and sighed. Pulling himself out of his bed, he donned a dressing gown as he staggered through to the living room and his front door.
"Johnny! Open up before I tell the world yer a fag..." The door duly opened. "Morning Johnny, tea made yet?" Willy grinned broadly, pushed past the annoyed man trying to hold the door closed. "What took ya'?"
"What ya' want Willy? Other than a quick death that is?" John closed the door, it was rather obvious that Willy had settled himself in for a long chat. At least he had filled the kettle and replaced the tea bags in the tea pot. Now if he could only get him trained to refrain from visiting before lunch time, John would be happy.
"Read this!" He announced, thrusting a slightly crushed envelope under the ex-cop's nose. "Tell me it says what I think it says!" Willy disappeared back into the tiny kitchen area off the living room, leaving a sexually unsatisfied John Lawless clutching a letter, when only a couple of minutes ago he'd been clutching something a lot more fun.
"What is it?" John finally asked.
"A letter, ya' dumb fuck. What ya' think it is? A marriage proposal fi' ma mum?" Willy looked at his friend, wondering what planet John was currently on. "Ya' been smokin', tokin' or just got shit fer brains the mornin'?"
"What c'n ah say? My early morning meditation was so bleedin' rudely interrupted." John took the folded paper out of the envelope, and tried to wrap his brain around its content, rather than his own cock, or better still, Terry's. A mental picture of his lover first thing in the morning, looking crumpled, eager, pouting, as if the morning came around too quickly. The way
his eyes would be half closed, making their pale blue turn almost black, passionate, wanting..
Things began to stir, and it wasn't just the pot of tea Willy was making either. John shook his head, took slow, deep breaths, thinking of Willy Kaa, not a sexually rampant Terry Bowers.
"Meditation? Is that what they call it now?" Willy came back in, carrying two mugs of hot, sweat tea. Clearly laughing at his friend, not with him.
"D'ya' really want me ta read this?" It had to be admitted that John did look mad enough to destroy the precious letter he was holding.
"Sorry, Johnny, couldn't resist teasin' is all!" He sat, as demurely as he could, and waited for his friend to read the letter.
John read. Then he read it again. Finally he looked at Willy, who sat with a really stupid grin on his face, then read it for a third time. Each and every time he read the letter it said exactly the same thing. Willy had won an all expenses paid trip for four, to the last international game in the All Black's touring season.
And it was in Edinburgh. A trip for four, for ten days, to Edinburgh.
"You jammy bastard! It says you've won a trip for four, to Edinburgh, ta watch the All Blacks wipe the field with the Scots, again!" Johnny took in the delight in his friend's face, and was pleased for him. However he still wished he'd waited even ten minutes before disturbing him.
"Yeah, ah know, great init? So, ya comin'?" Willy grinned at John's confused look.
"Git fucked!" John muttered, startled at Willy's offer.
"Don' ya' jus' wish!" Willy laughed at his friend again. "Oh, c'm on, Johnny, don't take a bleedin' PHD ta figure ya' got a bit of action goin' in Edinburgh. You havin' been there as often!" Willy's grin got broader, if at all possible. "Stands ta reason ya' got someb'dy there. An' afore ya' whine about how I knew where ya' been, I wiz looking fer ye, an' Jodie said ya'd gone abroad, ta' Scotland.. fer the third time. Easy, when ya' know how, maybe I should be the detective and you the dodgy side kick, huh?"
John stood there, still holding Willy's precious letter, staring at the man, mouth moving, brain simply not engaging.
For his part Willy just laughed harder.
"So.." John finally managed a word. "Who else ya gonna invite, other than me that is?"
"I thought young Paul, he'd maybe like ta' travel. An' you, like I said, you knowin' the city an' all. We'd need ya' ti' keep us outta trouble, like."
Willy looked a bit more serious at that notion. He watched John's face closely for a reaction, and he saw one. Some folks might have missed it, the little flicker of fear, but Willy had seen fear in so many faces all his life, it was like an old friend. "An' Dave Bruford, if 'is wife lets 'im outta play with us." That flicker, flared once more, then faded.
"Oh, man!" John muttered, drinking his tea, almost idly, as he sat down. Facing Willy over his tiny dinner table.
"Whazza' matter Johnny? What's wrong?" Willy reached for John's hand, touching him briefly.
"Nothin's wrong." John lied, all traces of fear gone from his face. Willy wondered if he'd been mistaken, then remembered who John was, what he had been, and realised he was hiding something, something big, But, being a friend, he let it lie, if Johnny wanted him to know, or needed his help, he'd tell him soon enough.
"Just shock then, mate?" Willy gave his friend an escape, one he saw taken up greedily.
"Too bloody right. One minute I'm asleep an' next ya're askin' me ta' go ta' Scotland with you." John handed Willy back his letter. "Ya' gonna' phone then an' accept the trip?"
"Too right I am!" Then the Maori seemed to think of something. "So, you've been there, di' they like Kiwi's then?"
"Yeah, no problems, but, I've yet ta' see one o'them eat a whole one." John waggled his eyebrows at the bulkier man.
"Ya' mad bastard!" Willy laughed, hard. "You know what I mean. Will they cause hassle, us turnin' up an' kickin' the shit outta them?"
"So long as it's only the footie teams, she'll be right." John was already wondering how he could dump the others and get some time just for him and Terry "You an' Paul got passports an' stuff?" He asked, wiping the grin clean off his friend's face.
"Shit no, never had one in m'life!" John had been right, his question did wipe the grin from Willy's face.
"Well, ya'd better get one, hadn't ya? You an' Paul! An' I suppose I get ta' ask Dave?"
"Would ya?" Willy asked, jumping to his feet. "Great, right, okay, you see ta' Dave an' me and Paul'll go git passports." Without another word Willy dashed out of John's home, leaving the worrying detective to chew his bottom lip, wondering just how he could get to Scotland and then bug out on his friends.
Then the phone rang.
"Kia ora!" He said, by wrote, his mind was still spinning.
"Oh, did I wake ya' then? Sleepy head?" A warm, welcome voice purred down the phone line at him.
"Oh fuck Terry, I really needed ta' hear yer voice right now! Whatcha' doing?" Johnny took the cordless handset back through to his bedroom and lay down, all the better to chat to his long distance lover.
"Ya' mean other than talkin' ta' you? Well, I'm flat out on the bed, naked, but that's okay, 'cos I got the heating up high enough." His voice went from purr to husky drawl, and life began to stir in John's body once more. "An' I'm touchin' myself, wishin' it was you. What you doing then?"
"Oh, much the same, strokin', touchin', wishin you could be here, or I could be there." John's voice sounded like raw sex to the equally frustrated Terry Bowers, as far around the world from each other as it was possible to be, without heading back again.
"Damn, Johnny, was this a good idea, huh? Phonin' ya' like this?" Terry sounded worried, a tone John didn't like to hear during their rare phone calls.
"'Course it was, now I got someone ta play with." John kept his voice up beat.
"Damn right!" And Terry groaned, imagining Johnny, lying on his bed, hand tight round his cock, pumping in rhythm to his breathing in his ear. The very idea made him hotter, harder, more desperate than ever.
John had much the same idea, the sound of Terry groaning and sighing in his ear, making him long for his lover, and making him harder than even before he was interrupted by Willy.
"Miss you. Want you." John whispered, not much capable of anything else.
"Oh, God, Johnny, I so want you, here, in me, fuckin' me. Watchin' me come, watchin' you come in me!" Terry groaned, reminding John of the images of the two of them kneeling up on Terry's bed, reflected in the mirror, the sheer voyeuristic pleasure that those images gave him, pushing him over the edge.
And John came.
"Christ! Terry!" He gasped, trying to get his breathing under some semblance of control, only to be given the pleasure of hearing Terry's climax right after his own
For several minutes all that could be heard, from either end of the phone line, was rasping heavy breathing. Finally, Terry managed to speak.
"Was it good for you too, my darling?" His voice was so clearly teasing, John could picture the expression that went with the silly words. Right down to the little pout he knew Terry would be sporting.
"Almost as good as being there!" John sighed, truthfully. "Oh, shit." He sat up, recalling Willy's visit, so totally distracted by Terry, that he had put it from him mind. "Ye'll never believe what's happened." He giggled, deliberately toying with Terry's innate curiosity.
"What's happened? Nothin' bad? Nobody's taken Johnny Wilson's passport from him have they?" Terry sounded only slightly worried, he'd clearly heard the joy in John's voice.
"Na! Willy Kaa won a trip for four to Edinburgh for the last game in the tour. An' he asked me ta' go with him!" John heard the utter silence from Terry's end of the line. "Terry?"
"Still here, sorry, you're gonna be here next week? Can you dump him, them, you did say four didn't ya?"
"Ye' an' that's the problem, the goof ball wants Dave Bruford and Paul Davidson ta' come too." John sighed, deeply. "I was just tryin' ta' think how I could dump them and be with you when ya' called."
"You'll find a way. Even if'n I havta' get ya' heavy duty sleeping tabs to knock the bleedin' pests out!" Terry laughed, the idea of John sneaking out on three soundly sleeping men, just to go have wild sex with his boyfriend, too much to keep to himself. From John's laughter he knew his lover thought the idea funny too.
"Yeah, sure!" John finally managed.
"Miss ya, Johnny, I'd do it to, get you anything, if it meant we'd be together again."
"I know you would, but you know I'd never ask you to, don't you?" John waited for Terry's response, which came reassuringly prompt.
"'Course ya' wouldn't. We'll think o'somethin', no worries!" Terry yawned.
"Been a long day?" John asked him, remembering it was the previous evening for Terry.
"Damn right it has. I was goin' ta call it a night and get ta' bed early, but I thought of you and decided to combine you and bed.." Terry giggled. "Wonder why the two just seem ta' go together."
"Ya' daft beggar, you get some sleep. And dream of me, next week, in that bed, an' in you!" John laughed at Terry's gasped breath.
"Fuck, what a thought!"
The phone call went on for a few more minutes, filled with longing, but both men had to go get cleaned up, one ready for bed, the other ready for the rest of his day. One day closer to getting back to Terry.
Dave Bruford was easy to convince, that he really did want to go all the way to Scotland to watch a footie game. His wife, however, was a damn sight harder to persuade. Joe Bruford was a stubborn, opinionated woman, and in her opinion Dave should stay at home with her and the kids. Though, if Dave and John thought Joe was bad, Inspector Ellis was worse. There was just something about women that they didn't seem to appreciate the in built need in men, to gang up together, wearing almost tribal regalia and cheer, en masse, for their own, special, dear to their very hearts, footie team. At least that was how Dave and John felt, having convinced Dave's Joe that he had to go, if only to keep the others out of the Edinburgh jails, they then had to do it all over again. Finally, Dave was given five days leave. They'd fly out on the Thursday, but he had to fly back on the Monday. With the game on the Saturday, it was not perfect, but at least a solution of sorts. And it had only taken them two days.
John looked sad when he needed to, he commiserated when he and Dave told Willy and Paul of Dave's terms and conditions of parole from wife and Inspector. It halved the time Terry was at risk from Dave and his overly inquisitive nature. Which was all well and good when you were a cop on the back streets of Auckland. Not so when you were trying to hide your boyfriend, who was a wanted felon and not a woman, from the same overly inquisitive cop. It was a score of one down, two to go, and John would have some peace and quiet, followed by some very vigorous sex, if he was really lucky.
Since John was in the office first, he e-mailed Terry about Dave's 'sad' news, how the cop was only going to be there for half the time. It was still before nine am, so John was hopeful he'd get a prompt reply. Terry e-mailed right back that he had every confidence in him to be in his bed, before those five days were even up! To add a little encouragement, he e-mailed his long distance lover an picture of himself, taken with his new toy, his digital camera. It was a safe enough image, you really had to know Terry Bowers very well indeed to recognise him from that angle. John had no problems what so ever on that score. He was printing off that image, to take home with him, when Jodie arrived in the office. At least half an hour early for her normal time keeping.
"Jodie!" John almost fainted at the sight of her, especially as Terry's dick was only half printed at that point in time. He blushed several shades of purple, trying to hide what he was doing.
"That's me." His partner agreed, grinning, knowing she'd caught him out on some clandestine act, if only she could guess what it was.
"Ahh." John's brain stalled, he desperately wanted to distract her attention from his actions when the phone rang. "Get the phone would you?" He smiled at her, face rapidly turning back to his healthy tanned look.
Distracted, Jodie picked up the phone, introduced the Agency , and herself, and enquired as to the nature of the help required.
"Oh, yes, I remember, you came in once before." Jodie had a tentative smile on her face as she thought about their caller. "Just hold the line, I'll put him on for you." She held the phone out towards John. "A Mr. Buyers, for you, all the way from Edinburgh, if I remember right."
John hid the picture in a pile of papers, dashed over to his own office space and took the call there. Shoving the pile of papers in his top drawer.
"Terry, you are a mad bastard!" He hissed, almost crossly, almost laughing. "Jodie almost caught me printing out the image. Wait a mo' will ya?" John fussed with the computer, forwarding the e-mails, and the image file, to his home machine, and deleted the relevant files on his office machine. "Thank the Gods for multi lines."
"I take it you got my present then?" Terry purred in John's ear, drawing another flush to the detectives cheeks.
"Oh yes, you could say that all right." John giggled, an answering giggle echoed down the phone line.
"Well, you know me. A romantic at heart. Anyway, I was really thinking about you, and I thought, I know, I'll just show Johnny how much I'm really missing him." Terry laughed outright.
"Just a week to go, then I'll be there. Ok?" John whispered, not wanting Jodie to hear his conversation with Terry.
"I'll get off now, no point in tempting fate, or the incredibly inquisitive Ms. Keane. See ya' Johnny." Terry blow John a big kiss down the phone and laughed hysterically, clearly able to picture his lover's red face at his action.
"Ya' mad git Ter. See ya soon, bye!" John laughed, it was the nearest he could get to whispering sweet nothings at Terry in public, well, in front of Jodie at least.
Once he was off the phone, had folded his picture away, for later perusal, in private, he looked up to find Jodie looking at him.
"What's up Jode?" He asked, looking too innocent for his own good.
"When were ya' goin' ta' tell me, huh?" Jodie stood before John's desk, arms folded, eyebrows knitted together in a heavy duty frown.
"Tell ya' what?" John asked, hesitantly, not looking forward to what was coming, he could see the accusation brewing in her eyes.
"That you're gay of course, what else is there to tell? Huh? Remember, sunshine, I've met your Terry, when he came here lookin' for you." She was livid, and getting angrier by the second. "I thought we were friends John, I thought we trusted each other?"
"You've met Terry?" John cast his mind back, then he remembered, when he'd been shot and Terry had risked everything to come see what was wrong. "Yeah. You have, haven't you."
"I'm waiting!" Jodie snarled.
"Look, Jode, I'm not gay. At least I don't think I'm gay. Yes, I'm involved with Terry, but he's the one and only bloke I was ever drawn to. I'm sorry, but there other reason's I didn't want ta' talk about Terry, none of them were not trusting you, never that."
"Does Dave know?" Jodie sat down in the chair the other side of the desk from John.
"He knows I've got a friend, he thinks it's a woman called Terri Buyers." John was sitting there cursing Terry's silly impulse, but slowly realising it was inevitable that someone would find out. At least Jodie didn't connect Terry Buyers with Terry Bowers. She'd not had that great a look at him from her vantage point, not with all that adrenaline rushing threw her, driving her into action.
"He made that connection for himself?" She smiled, well able to imagine Dave assuming Terry would be Terri.
"Yup, I don't really think he could handle the idea that I might be in love with a guy, and not fancy him too, ya' know?" John looked at her, an earnest expression on his face. He saw her smile at that idea, that smile became a grin, then a laugh.
"Sorry, I still can't believe his wife ever fancied him, he's just so Dave, if ya' catch m'drift?" She gasped between giggle fits. "Let alone a bloke fancying him. So, tell me about your Terry, why does he live in Scotland?"
"Work, his employers are in Edinburgh, so is he." John smiled, almost shyly, remembering occasions where he'd 'walked' Terry to work. The big office block he work in as a technical data clerk, it was such a change from Terry Bowers, psycho villain. Also, what he had told Jodie had the benefit of being true, sort of. "What's to tell, I knew him, briefly, while he was still living here in Auckland, but I never really got to know him till I met him there. Remember the Redpath case?" He watched her silent nod. "Terry knew Redpath's son, he introduced me, havin' filled in a lot of back ground Redpath senior forgot ta' tell me. Like he beat the shit outta his son when he found out he was gay. I just fell for Terry, he was, is, so beautiful, ta' me at least." John blushed at his description of Terry.
"What about Willy? Does he know?"
"Willy knows I've met someone there, I'd guess he thinks like Dave, I've fallen for a woman there." John shrugged again.
"Well, ya' shoulda' told me, you idiot! We shouldn't have secrets like this, not between each other. Any way, I liked him, he looked so desperate when he came here, so ready to do battle for you. That's impressive love that is." Jodie reached over the desk between them and patted John's hands. "So, how're ya' gonna' get time away from them three ta' spend some time with your Terry then?"
"I simply don't know Jode. None what so ever." John looked so sad that Jodie couldn't help but want to help him.
"This needs a woman's touch, leave it ta' me." She stood up, went over to the kettle, looked back at her friend still looking a little lost, having made his confession. "You can go get us somethin' nice ta' have with a cuppa' while I'm scheming, go on with ya'." She shooed him out of the office.
John went with good grace, he figured he was due Jodie a treat, seeing he had kept important secrets from her. It wasn't until he stood in the bakers shop, paying for his purchases, that he realised he'd left an overly inquisitive Jodie in the same office a Terry's digital picture. He couldn't help it, he blushed, profusely!
Jodie was blushing too, it seemed that Terry was missing John, just as much as she assumed he was missing Terry! Her next mental picture almost made her choke. She knew what Terry looked like, what John looked like, to be truthful she knew more about Terry than she did John, now at least. Her imagination could conjure up moving pictures, and it was those images she wished she could pause till later.
The flight to the UK was an absolute nightmare.
Dave thought he was ever so funny, every two hours asking when they would get to meet John's mysterious Terri Buyers? Followed by John immediately asking him to leave it out, and informing him, yet again, that no they weren't going to meet up. With John being so unforthcoming about his lover, his exotic, foreign lover at that, Dave and Willy began speculating. Eventually they fell silent, simply because they fell asleep, having decided that the mysterious Terri was a married woman, probably a mother too, and John was her piece of rough that only turned up on very odd occasions. They also speculated about her having had his child and passing it off as her husbands. This was unfortunately loaned credibility when John choked on his drink, the mental image he had of Terry, pregnant, let alone being anyone's wife or mother, was beyond funny. His snort was taken as corroboratory evidence, and they finally dropped the matter. All through their debate, Paul had sat there, giggling hysterically, no help to John what so ever. Peace was attained as they fell asleep, one by one.
Once assured his companions were out of it, John leaned back, relaxed and slipped into a light sleep. Dreaming about Terry, about babies, not Terry and babies however, but Willy and Dave and babies. Terry was just with him, laughing, kissing him, telling him how clever he was, sorting them like that! Stroking him, kissing him, whispering how much he loved him, wanted him, needed him. They were alone, on Terry's bed, and John was watching them both in the mirror, again, readying Terry, gently, easing himself inside his lover, stroking, soft, light touches, and someone stood, heavily, on his feet.
John was rudely awoken from his dream by Dave having stood on him as he climbed past, heading for the toilet.
"Shit, Dave, mind the feet!" He snarled, feeling better for a good snarl. "Wha' time is it?" He muttered, blearily, looking around and spying an air hostess. Sure that he'd never recapture his lost dream, regretting that, yet, somehow relieved, he'd hate to have come in his sleep. Something he frequently did when he had erotic dreams about Terry. He could do nothing, as yet, about the healthy early morning erection he sported, just offer thanks to the Gods of flying for the blanket covering his lap.
"It's seven thirty, London time, sir, we land in two hours. Would you care for your breakfast?" The petite brunette bent over John, smiling into his face, not quite flirting with him. Flirting being against the company rules, naturally. Yet not adverse to him smiling at her, even chatting her up, asking her out, anything, but got nothing. She concluded that it must be true, what 'they' say about Kiwi men, all they care about is rugby! That being all she'd heard from these four for the first half of the flight. Maybe she'd have understood better if she had heard them teasing John about his girlfriend, or them talking about Dave's wife. Or if she were a good two feet taller and could have leaned provocatively over Willy or Paul. All things being equal, she turned her attention to other targets, looking for her early morning confirmation that she was still gorgeous.
"Yeah, fine, that'll be okay." John turned away from the woman to nudge Willy, and to get Willy to nudge Paul. "Hey, guys, breakfast time!"
"Great!" Willy woke hungry, a normal state of affairs for him, he grinned at the pretty woman, who smiled right back at him, at least one of these guys thought she was worth a little effort. She'd spied the tall, tanned, dark haired man as he boarded, but he never seemed to really look at her. She favoured his travelling companions with her extra bright, good morning, smile, and went off to arrange four more breakfasts.
"It's morning?" Paul, on the other hand, sounded as if mornings and he had long since failed to keep company. He did notice the nice wiggle the stewardess had as she walked down the aeroplane.
"Sit back would ya' Johnny boy, let a man past!" Dave stood in the aisle, wanting to get back to his seat. "What'd'a miss?"
"Breakfast." Paul muttered.
"Oh, Chrise fella's ya' could have saved me some." He teased.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, sit down and stop being such a bloody stupid Kiwi!" John glared at his friend. "Any one would think ya' never travelled."
"Jus' practising." He grinned, squeezed past John again, and stood on his feet, again. "Af'er all, the Scots are gonna expect us ta' sound like some one off Shortland Street. Remember that crippled druggy they had once? Somethin' like him! He always kinda reminded me of someone, damned if I could tell you who though." His laughter triggered Willy and Paul into a fit of the giggles. John just groaned, deep and long.
"Shortland Street isn't shown in the UK, at least, not in Scotland, dunno' 'bout the rest of them, ok?" John got up, leaned over, smiled, almost conspiratorially. "What they will expect is that ya shag sheep. After all, they all know ewe's out number sheila's in New Zealand!" On that note, he took himself off to the toilet, smiling broadly at they shocked gasps behind him.
Once in the tiny cubicle he finally had some time, and privacy, to finish what the dream had started. He was so damn ready that he didn't take long to come, thinking about Terry, thinking about being with him, sometime in the next twelve hours. He couldn't hold to Jodie's timetable of ideas to lose the others. He had to have Terry, soon, real bloody soon, or he'd explode, maybe even hit someone, Dave most like.
"Damn you Terry!" He muttered to himself as he washed up. "Why'd ya have to make me fall in love with ya?" He laughed, remembering all their times together, vastly out numbered by their time spent apart, and he knew Terry would be just as frustrated as he was. He wondered if he could loose the guys at the airport, grab a cab into town, meet Terry at lunch time, drag him home, into the bedroom and fuck him senseless before the others informed the police he was missing. The idea made him grin, the idea made his cock hard again. Sighing, he thought about fucking Terry hard and came once more. This time he carefully thought about other things, boring things, and went off to rejoin the guys for breakfast.
Terry was in the shower, leaning against the wall, supporting his weight on one hand, stroking himself with the other. He watched as water droplets hit against his skin, trickling down his body, almost as if they were trying to remind him of all the places Johnny would stroke him. That conjured up the never far from the surface memory of the last time Johnny took him, in that very shower too.
It had been their last morning together, before Johnny headed back to Auckland, he, Terry, had headed for the shower, humming to himself, getting himself worked up into a right state. The words of the song not all there, but enough to be going on with.
"...Through all my sorrows and pain.. I'll do my crying in the rain..." Remarkably he wasn't off key, just off on the words a little. He had been singing so loudly, with the constant drum of the water hitting him, he hadn't heard the bathroom door opening. He felt the slight chill as the warm air headed out the room, followed by a slight draft of cooler air entering.
"Huh?" He had looked up in time to see Johnny getting in beside him.
"You're beautiful, especially when wet." Then Johnny had kissed him, taking his breath right away. He'd fallen against the cold wall of the shower cubicle. Arms around Johnny to stop himself from falling completely arse over tit. His butt hit the wall however.
"Damn, that's cold!" He'd pushed himself back up right. "So, whatcha' doing Johnny? Savin' water or did ya' miss me already?" Terry had thought he was being so clever, turning to look at Johnny, with the water pouring over his face like it was, he didn't think Johnny would have seen the tears. But he had.
"I always miss ya' when we're apart." Johnny kissed Terry's cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears. "Whatcha' cryin' for? I ain't away yet!" And he had deepened the kiss, capturing Terry's mouth. "I want you." It was a statement of absolute truth, it made Terry's breath catch, his heart skip a beat.
And the memory of those words worked their magic all over again. Terry felt his cock get even harder, if that was at all possible. He stoked himself as Johnny had, he faced the wall, resting on one folded arm, as he had with Johnny. Remembering what it felt like to have Johnny take him, in the shower, warm water cascading down, over his shoulders and his back.
He recalled the rhythm they had got going. The solid weight of Johnny behind him, pumping into him, whispering to him all the time. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he wanted him, all the times he would reach for him, and he wouldn't be there, he'd be half a world away.
Terry also remembered himself telling Johnny he felt just the same. All the times he was invited to a get together at work, how he hated looking at invites to Terry Buyers and partner, knowing his partner was thousands of miles away, out of his reach, his touch. His body remembered the rough treatment Johnny had dished out, trusting into him, chanting in his ear.
"I love you Terry Bowers, I love you Terry Bowers!" Johnny's voice echoed in his mind, and he knew it was true, Johnny loved him. For some strange reason, known only to whatever Gods existed, Johnny Lawless loved Terry Bowers, and he often sported the bruises to prove it. When his Johnny was around at least.
As he recalled the pain at Johnny's crushed grip on his hips, Terry came, all over his hand, and the shower wall.
"Johnny Lawless you'd better git yo' arse over here soonest possible minute or I'm gonna' whip it!" Terry giggled, eyes firmly shut, blocking out the empty shower stall, empty except for him. No Johnny, not this time.
Terry dashed through the rest of his shower and ran into his bedroom, looking at the clock, he still had enough time for breakfast before he headed out to work. Somehow, just thinking about Johnny ate up the time, not that he really objected to the distraction.
By the time the four of them had struggled through customs and onto the Edinburgh flight, it was ten thirty. The sky was clear, the view was green and rolling, what John could see of it was anyway. He was sitting beside Willy, who had the window seat, gawping at the British countryside rolling away below them. It was a delight to watch Willy experience everything for the first time. John idly wondered how Paul and Dave were getting on further forward, they had been spilt up into two pairs. At least, despite his earlier silliness, Dave was an experienced traveller, he'd keep young Paul right.
John hadn't realised how long he'd sat, looking beyond his friend, not quite seeing out the window, not even really seeing the window, just Terry's face, smiling at him, fresh from loving him. He wasn't even aware of groaning, until Willy shook him and asked what was wrong. This time he couldn't disguise the fear and longing in his eyes.
"What's up, mate?" Willy looked at him, his sure knowing look that always reassured him.
"I... I can't say, really, don't ask, please, mate?" John knew he was begging, but Terry's safety meant more to him than his pride ever could.
"No, I can't, you're hurtin' damn it, I wouldn't ever turn away from a mate in pain, not like your sufferin' an' you know it. So, give, what's up?" Willy stopped smiling, for the first time since their trip had begun the older man had a deeply serious look in his eyes, and he had Johnny trapped, they both knew it. "Is it your girl friend? The one we been teasin' ya' about?"
"That's just it, mate, that's it in a nutshell." John tried, in vain, to look away.
"What's it?" Willy looked at his friend, really looked at him. "She really married?"
"No, an' Terry isn't a she either." There, he'd finally said it, told Willy what he was really hiding, and saw his friend just simply absorb the information.
"An' you don't want Dave an' Paul findin' out do ya?" He watched John as his friend thought about Dave's probable reaction.
"Chrise no!" John hissed, looking ahead, almost afraid that Dave might hear them, even at opposite ends of the plane.
"Messy!" Willy could also imagine the reaction John's news would cause if Dave, or even Paul, found out. Yet, before he could offer any support or advise to the love-lorne, the stewardess delivered their mid morning meal. "Gods, but do the Brits ever stop feedin' a body?" He asked, startled at the quantity of food they had been plied with since leaving Auckland.
"Nah, they all have this idea that you should feed folks inta' submission." John tried for a laugh, it didn't quite work. As they were left alone, Willy took up where they had left off.
"So, Johnny, you gay, or bi, or what?" He wasn't shocked, at least he wasn't outwardly shocked as far as John could see.
"I don't think I'm any label. There's only ever been the one man in my life, this way, an' that's Terry. I certainly don't fancy Dave, or Paul, or even you, sorry mate, to crush yer hopes an' all."
"Oh, you wound me!" Willy laughed, knowing what Johnny meant. There were no rules to love, and it was obvious, to Willy at least, that this time Johnny had found the real thing, not the rebound romance that had consumed Sonya. "So, how ya' gonna see yer Terry then? Was ya' planin' on sneakin' off then?" He was a little disappointed at the guilty blush Johnny sprouted at his half in jest question.
"I wasn't gonna' do anythin' till af'er Dave went home. I can't risk it. Can't risk.." This time he bit his tongue, and Willy kept his thoughts on what John would be risking to himself.
"Too true, he's a good mate, but a bit tight laced is Dave. You two go way back, s'not right to ruin that kinda' friendship over a lover. If'n you c'n keep 'im in the dark, so much the better, for him that is." Willy put the spin on John's aborted statement that he thought the other man might appreciate. He saw relief in John's eyes and knew he had guessed rightly, about that at least.
"Ye, ah jis' don' think he'd understand, ya' know?" This time John smiled, a genuine smile, as he thought about Terry, and the look of shock and horror Dave's face would be sporting if he ever walked in on them in bed.
"So, the question remains, like before, whatcha' goin' ta do about your Terry?" Willy had a plan forming in the back of his mind. Johnny had always done his best to shield him and the guys from the cops, it was only fair he return the favour.
"I don' know mate, I jis' don' know!" John slumped in his seat, as best he could in the cramped plane, and stared at the mostly uneaten meal before him.
"Well, it's a good job ya' got yer bro' Willy along then, ain'it?" Willy grinned at his suddenly aware again friend. "Seein' as how I think I got the answer."
"What's the answer then?" John tried, and failed, to keep the hope out of his short question.
"Simple, you share with me, instead of with Dave an' you can sneak off when ever ya' like ta' go see yer Terry." He sat back and watched the hope and delight spread into Johnny's eyes, it was an image of pure joy to behold.
"Aw fuck, that's... shit, mate, you're..." Johnny sniffed up, somewhat suspiciously, and Willy smiled at him.
"It's what mates are for, ya' daft beggar!" He clasped John's arm in a friendly embrace, smiling. "So, ya' gonna' tell me what your Terry's like? What does he do fer a livin' an' all that?"
"He's beautiful, he's almost as tall as me, but slender, really slender. His face shows everything, every emotion is there right before me." John fell silent, thinking about Terry. "An' 'is eyes, Chrise, they're so pale as to almost not be any colour, except when he's wild with what we're doin' ta'gether." John blushed at that statement, a deep, ruby blush that could have scorched anyone fool enough to touch him.
"Ya' really are crazy fer 'im, ain't ya'?" Willy grinned, showing his friend he wasn't repulsed at his friends description of his lover in the throws of passion.
"Yeh, got it bad." John laughed, sheepishly, "He's gentle, so gentle, not like before.." He whispered his words, obviously lost to his own thoughts, unaware of what he was saying.
Willy heard the words, frowned in confusion, and put them away to think about later. Right now was thinking about Johnny time, his mystery boyfriend could wait a little.
"What does he do?" He prompted John onto possibly safer ground.
"Works in an office. Technical stuff with computers."
"So he's gonna' be workin' now then?" Willy looked at Johnny's wrist watch, as did the owner of said watch.
"Na' don't think so, he's usually at tea break with his mates about now." John grinned at Willy. "Told ya' they love ta' eat and ply each other with food over here, didn't I?"
"You not worried he'll leave ya' fer one o' 'is work mates then?"
"Na' no worries there, Willy, see, all his work mates is women!" John laughed at the startled look on his friends face. Willy finally saw the funny side and laughed too.
In the tea room, in their usual huddle, Terry did indeed sit with his work mates, drinking his fourth or fifth cup of tea, almost buzzing from the caffeine, not as bad as if he had drank the office coffee, but no one could drink that much of the fowl brown goo they called coffee in their office. All the while they sat and chatted, he looked over at the clock, again and again, constantly checking the time.
"What's up? We're only ten minutes over time." The voice that broke his reverie belonged to his blonde (this week) friend Georgie, as she spoke the others laughed too, having noticed his distraction.
"Just thinking." He replied, grinning. The best thing about having the girls as his friends was their total acceptance of his chosen life style.
"Oh, I get it, Johnny's on his way over, isn't he? Coming for the game on Saturday?" The brunette sitting on his other side from Georgie, Maggie, teased him, it was apparently her lifes work to get a reaction from him at each and every opportunity. Not that he minded, two could play that game, and he could make her react just as quickly. If teasing were a professional sport, they could double team, sweep the boards of prize monies and retire on their profits.
"Maybe." He tried for laid back, and missed.
"Like, you've clock watched all bleedin' mornin' I should coco maybe!" Maggie giggled at his affronted expression.
"Damn, can't get anything past Maggie, can I? So, you're husband in town this weekend then?" It was their constant gripe together, missing partners. Whereas Terry's lived the otherside of the planet, Maggie's might as well live there too, for all she saw of him.
"Nope, Brussels." She sighed, rested her head on her upturned hands and slumped forwards, elbows on the table.
"Well, Johnny will be here, only he's with other folks, so I won't see him.. not for days, maybe not even at all." He too slumped, elbows, hands, head supported exactly like Maggie.
"Well, some of us don't even have significant others, or even insignificant others." Lizzie, the forth part of the quartet, and the one with a similar complexion and colouring to Terry that they were often taken for family, chimed in.
"My hubby'll be at home." Georgie crowed, slightly.
"Yeah, sure, sleepin' off his week long night shift!" Terry sighed as he spoke.
"True. Damn, what we gonna do then?" Georgie asked, looking at her fed up friends.
"How about a pub crawl?" Maggie suggested. "We could go out Saturday night, get blotto, end up eating a Chinky at Terry's place, and then stagger off, leaving him with the mess, of course."
"How come I always get left with the mess?"
"Law of nature, Terry, your our gay male friend, you've got the only tidy flat amongst the four of us. Either that or type casting." Lizzie giggled at Terry's head shaking.
"Ok, if nothing else comes up, we'll go on a pub crawl on Saturday night." He knew when to give in gracefully, and now was just such a time. He enjoyed their company, it made a change from other gay couples, reminding him of just what he couldn't have, his lover there, with him, sharing everything together. The girls were at least good company, and they all made rude comments about the men they saw. Their tastes were broadly similar.
"Agreed!" Georgie laughed. "So, now, get back to work, slaves!" It was an advantage, sometimes, to having break time with your immediate boss. She couldn't complain about their excessively long tea breaks, seeing as she was with them.
Terry felt a lot better, at least he wouldn't be sitting in, brooding over missing Johnny, especially as Johnny would be in the city, just as out of reach as if he were still at home.
As the plane touched down and John and Willy waited for their turn to disembark, Willy continued their earlier conversation.
"When ya' wanna sneak off? Tonight? Tomorrow? Saturday? Ya' can if yer in with me, I'll cover fer ya' no worries." Willy grinned at Johnny as the other man tried to wrap his thought about how close he was to holding Terry in his arms.
"Depends, what time everybody crashes out tonight, I might be too bleedin' exhausted myself. We'll see, okay? If I can get away tonight, I'd be in your debt man, like for bleedin' ever!" He grinned, such a feral grin that Willy almost feared for the mysterious Terry's well being.
"Well, see ya' don't fuck 'im ta' death on the first night, ya' frustrated ol' goat!" Both of them giggled, then changed the subject, Dave and Paul were waiting for them, just ahead.
"So, where we satyin' then?" Dave asked as soon as Willy and Johnny caught up with them.
"There should be some one here to.." Willy was interrupted by a man in a smart business suit.
"Mr Kaa?" He looked directly at him. "I'm with Sports Fields, I'm here to see you get settled in ok!" He smiled warmly at the four men. "My name's Mike and me and my photographer will be following you around during your stay. You know, watching you do the tourist bit.." He saw two happy expressions and two alarmed ones. He wandered what it was he'd said that had upset them.
"Like, all the time with us, ALL the time?" Willy double checked what it was Mike had said, before Johnny could kill the man.
"Well, not absolutely all the time, no." Mike was relieved to see that information make the other two men smile.
"Ok, lead on, where are we staying then?" Willy indicated the outside world, at least the tiny bit of it that was Scotland. "We've got lots ta' do an' see!"
"An' beer ta' drink!" Dave added, only to be shushed by his three travelling companions.
"Of course, this way." Mike lead the way outside, to an awaiting limo, they were travelling in style. With their luggage all collected, everything done that needed to be done, they were finally on their adventure, twelve thirty local time. John was finally in the same city as Terry, and they might as well have still been worlds apart.
"Have faith." Willy whispered. John tried to smile, almost made it.
Yet, despite having faith, John Lawless almost died when he realised which Hotel they were staying in. Not so much a Hotel as much as it was an up market Guest House; not only was it central, it was right up the street from Terry's apartment, and right across the road from Terry's favourite pub.
He saw disaster looming ahead of them, especially when Dave spotted the pub and announced that he could most definitely do with a beer. Willy and Paul rapidly agreed with him, until Willy noticed the expression on Johnny's face.
"What's wrong Johnny? What's wrong with that pub then?" He had an idea that whatever was upsetting Johnny had something to do with his Terry.
"It's a gay bar." John tried for a calm 'I know my way about this city' approach, and observed Dave's reaction to his announcement.
"What, totally a gay bar? Not a straight one in there? That's odd, I just seen a bloke an what really looked like a sheila go in there, arms wrapped tighter than ..." He was interupted, before he could ramble on in his on going quest for the perfect analogy, by Willy.
"You sure it was a sheila? I thought it was a bloke in drag, she were kinda too ugly ta' really be a sheila." Watching Johnny out the corner of his eye he watched his sigh of relief when Dave bought his explanation.
"Well, we'll just not go there then." He smiled around him, getting unbridled enthusiasm from Paul, tempered indulgence from Willy, and a feeling of cold dread from John. "Wha's'a matter John?"
"Jet lag." John looked at his friend, he did indeed look tired, he knew this to be true, judging by Dave's odd expression.
"Chrise.. you're not half! You look all in mate, you wanna get some kip while we go off exploring?" Dave rubbed his friends arm. "No kiddin' John, you look like death warmed over, you go get your head down, I'll make sure you're woken about five or sixish, ok?"
John did suddenly feel exhausted, as if a great weight was pressing down on him.
"You do your thing, an' a'll keep them in the city centre ok? Help ya' any?" Willy whispered, meeting Johnny's eyes.
Johnny's mind however was wondering if Terry had had his lunch yet.
"Ok, whatever." He turned back to the stairs and headed for his and Willy's room as the other three piled out onto the unsuspecting Edinburgh streets.
Once they vanished out of his line of sight, John backtracked to the payphone in the lobby and dialled Terry's work number. It was answered on its third ring.
"Technical intake, Terry Buyers speaking." John listened to Terry's polite, phone voice then giggled at him.
"You had lunch yet?" he asked, emotion suddenly choking his voice.
"Johnny?" Terry whispered, stunned to hear his lovers voice so soon.
"Yeah, so, you had lunch?"
"Not yet, no." Terry's hand trembled, as did his voice.
"Any chance you can take the afternoon off?" John was no more steady than Terry was. It had been too long since they had seen each other this time.
"Wait a mo' I'll ask." Terry put the receiver down on his desk, there was the scraping of feet and a chair and the sound of him walking away. The mental image of Terry swaying as he walked made John almost too hard to bear. Then, as suddenly as he had gone, Terry was back. "I told Georgie what's come up, as it were, an' she says fine. So long as I'm in tomorrow."
"Meet you in bed then." John laughed at the groan Terry gave him.
"I'll get a contract cab, I'll be there ASAP. Keep it warm for me." Terry hung up the phone on the sound of John Lawless groaning at him.
It took John a few minutes before he felt he could walk down the street with out everyone staring at the man with the painfully obvious erection. Once he was in command of his body he left a note for Willy. He told him he had gone for a walk, having woken up a bit more, and he'd see them later. He hoped Willy would get the hidden message and he hoped Dave and Paul wouldn't think he'd just up and run out on them. Even though he had. That thought did amuse him as he walked down the hill towards Terry's flat. He all but skipped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, he fumbled for his keys, his own keys and Terry's keys, just as he'd given Terry keys he knew it was far too dangerous for his lover to ever use. It felt right though, to make the gesture.
He showered, washing himself thoroughly, dried off, donned Terry's dressing gown and retreated back to Terry's bed, their bed. Just as he settled himself the door crashed open then banged shut again and a red faced, desperate man barged into the bedroom. The red flush made Terry look dangerous, or rather, it reminded John of just how dangerous his lover could be. Yet, all that almost contained action was his to command.
"C'm'ere." John whispered, holding out a hand towards Terry, who needed no second bidding. He stripped as he crossed the room, the jacket, the tie, what he referred to as his corporate monkey suit. Shoes kicked under the bed, pants left puddled on the floor, until quite naked, he lay down on the bed, next to Johnny.
Terry said nothing, it was all there to be seen, in his eyes, his flushed face, his every tense line of muscle. Johnny watched his lover close his eyes and shudder at their first touch of flesh on flesh. Having discarded Terry's robe, Johnny had rolled over to match line for line, Terry's body. Then they were kissing, hands roaming freely over the much missed body before them.
Johnny hooked a leg around Terry's and dragged him over to cover him as he rolled backwards. Getting the hint, Terry rubbed their erections together, introducing a little friction into their game. This wouldn't be a long slow loving, this was going to be fast and furious. He transferred attention to Johnny's nipples, tweaking and teasing them, biting and kissing as he went. Always letting his hands roam before his lips, touching and stroking the hardness Johnny sported for him, and him alone.
Briefly, he kissed and sucked gently on his lover's erect penis before he kissed his way back up to Johnny's face. Taking his weight on one arm, he cupped Johnny's face with the free hand, stroking kiss swollen lips with his thumb.
"Take me now." He begged, bearly above a whisper.
"Pass the stuff then." Johnny cast his eyes at the bedside table and all that he knew it held.
Eager for the next stage in their afternoon delight, Terry reached over, retrieving both the lube and a condom. He knew from past experience Johnny would refuse to take him with out the condom, it wasn't that Johnny didn't trust either himself or Terry, but he refused to risk him on a silly whim, that had been how he said it. Johnny valued him, his life, their love. With shaking hands he passed over his sought for treasures.
"How do you want it?" Johnny kissed Terry, preventing his immediate answering of his question.
"I wanna watch you cum in me!" Terry ripped open the condom packet and helped Johnny on with the thing, noticing just how closer to coming the idea of them watching, together, as they loved, their images in the mirror displaying their pleasure for all to see, had made Johnny.
"Oh, fuck, Ter, I don't know if'n I'll last, this time." Johnny smiled and helped Terry to kneel up, preparing him, stretching him. Lubing the condom, nothing could be left to chance, not if it would spoil things for Terry.
"You'll be right." Terry whispered, not too sure he would last himself either.
Johnny watched Terry watching him enter him. The smile, the look of pure joy that always flooded Terry's face during their love making a sensual delight that it tightened Johnny's balls even closer to the trigger point.
"You look so fuckin' hot, in me like that." Terry whispered, again, he never was one for raising his voice in love making. "Move!" He quietly commanded.
Johnny moved. Terry gasped. Then Terry rocked backwards and Johnny almost cried in the heady sexual pleasure his lover's body always gave him. Watching themselves heightened the pleasure, driving them onwards, both forgot any caution as the thrust together, breaking arhythmically and coming back into harmony. Terry tightened his muscles on Johnny, as hard as he could, adding to the friction and power needed for his lover to move in him. Hitting his prostrate as often as not, adding to Terry's sensation overload.
Unable to resist, Terry came, hard, muscles clamping down on Johnny even harder than before, triggering him as he pushed deeply into the tightness surrounding him.
As always, Terry was silent in his orgasm, head back, eyes tight shut, Johnny came at the image of the delight he was giving his lover, his scream as silent as Terry's had been. And as quietly observed as Terry opened his eyes to see the image of Johnny shutting his tight, head back, silently crying his climax.
Cautiously, Johnny eased out of Terry, removing the condom, carefully, and stroking the trembling body beside him. He reached for the blanket Terry always kept at the foot of the bed, for just such occasions, he wrapped them both in its soft warmth, and revelled in the sheer physical pleasure in Terry's arms.
"I love you Johnny." The words, whispered in the late afternoon sun, as golden as the light that kissed Terry's bed.
"And I love you, Terry, more than any words could say." Johnny tightened his hold on his lover, hearing the sadness in Terry's words, the sorrow he had hoped to hide in a whisper.
"I'd do any thing for you, risk any thing."
"I know, and I won't let you. I don't want you to risk anything for me. I want you here, safe, okay?" Johnny tightened his hold even further, no doubt leaving more bruises on Terry's pale flesh, but one way or another, he had to impress upon his young lover just how much his continued freedom meant to him.
"I know, but it's there, should you ever need me to do it." Terry tried to roll over, only succeeding when Johnny heard him gasp a very quiet ouch. "So, how long can you stay, right now that is?"
"Hours yet." Johnny told him, smiling.
"Oh fuck!" Terry giggled, a cheeky smile crossing his sharply angular face. "Plenty time to play then?" And he began to excite his lover once more. "Time for me to take you too." He giggled, again, he always knew how hot the idea of being taken made his Johnny. Just as hot as he got knowing it would only ever be his body that took Johnny to those particular heights.
"I missed you Ter." Johnny lay back, ready to indulge his lover in whatever he wanted to do. Even if it did mean he'd be walking a bit oddly when he returned to the Guest House, it would remind him he was really there, not just dreaming it all.
"Missed you too. All the fuckin' time, in fact." Terry grinned, it was either that or cry, and he refused to let Johnny see him blubbing like a baby on his first day back with him.
Four thirty saw them sitting together, eating a very late lunch, side by side on the sofa, watching kids tv, laughing at the cartoons, complaining about the shows that were no more than half hour long toy adverts.
"You know, we have never really lived together, ya' know?" Terry observed, "Not like real couples, could you imagine the fights and chaos, me trying to get you outta' bed first thing every morning in life?" Terry enjoyed teasing his lover about his determined attitude to staying in bed.
"Maybe I'd persuade you to stay there with me? Anyway, most morning I'm in well before Jodie, so there. If I have ta' get up, I can." Johnny realised he'd fallen for Terry's game when his lover reached over and squeezed his crotch, gently.
"Oh, aye, I can testify ta' that, you can get it up when called for." And Terry smiled, reaching for him properly, kissing him. Dinner plates, and the coffee table, were pushed out of the way as they lay back on the sofa, kissing, touching, sharing.
Leaving the children's presenters to look out of the screen, enthusing like mad about the very next hot item, whatever it was. Just no where as hot as Terry and Johnny. It might well be Monday before Johnny would risk coming back to him like this. After the dreaded Dave Bruford had returned home. Terry was determined to make a lasting impression on Johnny's body, and to get enough loving to last him for the next four days. And nights.
They pretty soon had to move things back to the bedroom, there was more room there than on the sofa. Finally, they both slept for a little while. Johnny's movements eventually woke Terry.
John hated leaving Terry, for any reason, but especially to return to the Guest House, he dressed slowly, watching his lover lying, exhausted, splayed over their bed. Terry smiled up at John as the older man searched for his socks. John lifted a pair off the floor and looked at them, a puzzled expression on his face, he couldn't see his socks anywhere.
"They're mine." Terry pointed out, helpfully. "You took your time getting undressed, so how can they have vanished?"
"I don't know, probably you kicked them all over the place as usual?" Johnny grinned at Terry as he leaned over the end of the bed, helping him to look for his missing socks.
"Damn it, Ter, I'll just take a pair of yours." Johnny reached into the drawer where Terry kept his socks and sundry other things. He sat on the bed and pulled the socks on, looked around and couldn't find his trousers.
"Where are my jeans?" He looked at the man lying there, looking so innocent.
"I don't know." Terry tried to keep the smile off his face.
"Oh no?" Johnny pounced, pinning Terry to the bed, tickling him. "Where are they?" He sat on Terry's hips and leaned forwards, holding his face almost at kissing point, slowly moving forwards again. "Tell me." He whispered, into Terry's nearest ear.
"No... no jeans - no go!" Terry laughed.
Johnny lowered his face further. Terry turned his face towards Johnny, hoping for a kiss. Johnny lowered fractionally more.
"Where are they?" Johnny purred.
"Won't tell." Terry reached up with his head and shoulders, reaching for a kiss..
"Where!" John tickled him one handed, supporting his weight with the other one.
"No!" Terry couldn't stop laughing.
A long wet tongue snaked out and licked Terry right up the middle of his face.
"Argh!" He squealed.
"Where are they?"
"Under the bed.." Terry laughed. "Can't you stay till morning? Please?"
"Wished ah could, ya' know that, aye?" Johnny sat up, looking down at his lover, missing him already, and he'd not even left yet.
"Yeah, maybe on day, aye? You'll come back an' never leave again?" Terry didn't wait for a reply, he rolled Johnny off his hips and left him to get dressed.
"Terry...?" Johnny reached for him, stopping him from leaving the room.
"Yeah?" Terry asked, not looking back, not wanting to end up crying like a child, begging him not to leave him again.
"Terry, one day, it will be you and me, together forever, ok?" Johnny got no response. "And that's a promise, I love you Terry, more than anything."
Terry turned around at that.
"You promise?" He asked.
"Yeah, one hundred per cent." Johnny drew him back and kissed him, murmuring into his lips. "I want you in our bed, waiting for me, every day. If not, I'll be there, waiting for you."
"I can hardly wait.." Terry broke out laughing, pushed Johnny onto the bed. "Get dressed sweet heart, or you'll be late for the office.." He laughed some more and went to make fresh tea for them both. It was either that or end up begging, again.
Friday was absolute torture for Terry, more through not being able to sit comfortably than any other reason, although the girls' rather pointed questions over tea break did make him blush a little. Not to mention that the questions just served to remind him of all they had done the previous afternoon, Terry sat through his day with an extremely goofy grin on his face, alternating with a wince of pain.
Friday was also absolute torture for John, for much the same reasons as it was so for Terry. It was Willy and his quiet questions that made him blush however. But the sight seeing photo shoot did eventually distract them both. Johnny spent the day with a really fake, happy smile on his face. How could he be happy, in the same city as Terry but being kept from him by force of circumstances?
The evening was worse, for both Terry and John. Both wanted to be with the other, neither could really make it happen. John got steadily drunk, not rambling and going to confess everything drunk, just numb drunk. To the point the pain didn't throb quite so much. Either in his heart or in his rear end. That little thought did make him chuckle to himself periodically however. As did the really odd looks his random laughter earned him from his friends.
Terry sat and ploughed through a lot of web sites, reading a lot of stuff that amused him, made him almost cry, made him wish Johnny was their so he could share the stories with him. He had a bottle of wine and a glass by his computer, some truly inventive fiction on screen and the urge to take notes and try out what he was reading when Johnny came back.
He'd left the television on, simply for the company of other voices around him. It was eight o'clock, he'd left it on channel five and it was Xena yipping away in the back ground. He momentarily looked up from the screen and thought about going through to the living room and switching the box off, or at least to another channel, but he was too disinclined to move to make the effort. Currently, at least.
Terry went back to reading, but he was disinclined to do that too. When he was missing John this bad he usually e-mailed him, or phoned him, but this time he couldn't do either. Eventually, around the quarter hour advert break, he did move through to the living room, with his bottle of wine. He'd go back to reading the porn fiction, after he'd lost himself to a little high adventure, and had looked at the parks and landscapes around Auckland that he missed. Not the people, except for his Johnny, just the place itself. As the programme restarted he watch some of the characters wander over a long, tranquil beach, he knew that beach.
Terry sniffed up, drank another glass of wine, and imagined himself and Johnny, on that beach, hand in hand. Even if they did have to dodge the Xena film crew. That idea made him giggle, it was such a silly idea.
John took the guys to Easy Everything, the biggest internet cafe the city had to offer. Once there, he showed his companions what to do, and got them terminals together, he moved off to sit alone, slightly apart from them, easier to do as he wished, unobserved. Once settled, and after much faffing around, he found out how to get his e-mails. So he e-mailed Jodie, giving her an update on the trip, and him and Terry. He then e-mailed Terry, telling him just how much he was missing him. He didn't really expect an answer from Terry, but if there had been one he wouldn't have minded, not at all. He looked over to check out their progress, and true to all first timers, in John's personal experience, the group of interested guys had done a web search on sex, at least judging by the noises coming from them.
There was silence from his friends as they listened to something the bloke next to them was saying, a big red haired bloke none of them seemed inclined to pick a fight with. John tried to listen in to his words, ready to jump in if he were trying to start a fight. He laughed, however, when he realised that he were merely telling the guys how to get their downloaded files burned onto a CD for later review. This information served only to spur them on to greater depths of depravity in their exploration of the internet.
John surfed some of the sites he knew Terry liked, read some of the same fiction he had been reading himself, if John only knew it, and he missed having his lover there to talk to and share things with. Or even to try out that last particularly impossible seeming act in the story he would have to ear mark for his own reading once home again. Or with Terry.
Terry eventually wandered back through to the spare room, in which he kept his computer, and he logged on once more then he saw the e-mail from Johnny, sitting there, waiting for him. Eagerly, he read it, then again, and composed a reply, hoping John would still be there.
John almost screamed when Terry's reply turned up on screen. Almost, but not quite, he restricted himself to simply grinning broadly at the machine, knowing it wouldn't give him away to his so called friends. After a few more e-mails, back and forth across Edinburgh city centre via Auckland, New Zealand no less, the unmistakable sounds of the guys getting ready to go sounded from along the line of computers. John bid farewell to Terry, and even as he read Terry's final message, he was missing him all the more.
He collected the guys, and their down loaded porn, or whatever, and they all headed for Rose Street, and a pub crawl.
Saturday, despite their hang overs, was a much better day. To begin with at least. The game was wonderful, brilliant, superb.. so long as you weren't Scottish. The All Blacks decimated them, again. Not happy with merely trouncing the Scottish team, they slaughtered them. Not that John and the guys minded that one little bit, it was so much a sweeter victory when they were there, in the stadium, watching every glorious point acrue on the score board. The Scots, however, weren't noted for taking such a big defeat quietly, the boos and geers echoed arounf the stadioum, and around the city in general.
That lead, inexorably, to the troubles in the city centre as some of the more troublesome Scottish supporters, the non rugby fans mainly, started trying to cause hassle amongst the celebrating Kiwi's. The true rgby fans just chalked it up to experience, again, and went about the serious business of drowning their sorrows. The trouble making ellement of society went about the happy business, for them at least, of creating strife.
John felt they should be safe enough, after all, their were four of them, all well versed in how to handle bother, if and when it reared its ugly head in front of them. He also decided it would be better if they stayed very close to the city centre. Where the higher ratio of police to drunks could be found.
The fates had decreed, however, that Terry and the girls had decided that sticking to the city centre was a good plan. There being far less likely hood of trouble with more people, and coppers, around.
Edinburgh city centre just isn't all that big. The city sprawls, with little clusters of what were once other town centres before the city swallowed them whole. But the city centre is only three streets wide, not counting the alleyways and the one street with no pubs what so ever on them, and six smaller ones crossing the big three. Not all the streets sported bars, not all the bars would be suitable for het, or mixed company. That still left a fair number of options, alas John only knew the bars Terry had taken him to.
The first couple of pubs John took his friends to, things were lively, packed, bursting with people out to enjoy their Saturday night., so they only stayed for one drink in each bar.
Likewise the pubs Terry and the girls tried. The two groups were heading towards the centre of Rose Street, from either end, bouncing in and out of pubs, missing each other, sometimes by seconds, or inches.
"How about Scotties?" Maggie suggested.
"Yeah, nae bother." Lizzie agreed, Georgie and Terry merely followed along, as per usual. It being somewhat safer to let Lizzie and Maggie alone when the orginisation bug bit them. Oddly, it only ever happened on pub crawls.
Elsewhere on the self same street another conversation as regards which pub to visit next was taking place. Quite a few such conversations were happening, but in this one the players were actually known to Terry, one of them even known by the girls. John was in the middle of a small triangle of bodies, listening to his friends argue which way to go. Finally, it was Paul, the youngest member of their group who came to a definite choice.
"What about the pub with the dogs above it?" Paul asked John, recalling one of the pubs from their previous nights expedition. "That place had a nice feel to it, didn't it?"
"That'd be Scotties." John informed him, knowlingly.
"Is it a queer's pub then, or what, ya' didn't say?" The youngest member of their group continued to quiz John.
"No way, it's just a pub, kinda small, but good enough." He paused, thinking about the pub in question, it was usually full, but with a quiet enough crowd. They might stand the chance of hearing themselves think, let alone hearing themselves actually talk. "Okay, that's the best idea anyone has come up with, Scotties it is." He lead the way, back along Rose Street to their desired destination.
John and the others entered the tiny bar by the eastmost door, just as Terry and the girls entered by the westmost door. The two groups stood either side of the circular bar. The place was full to bursting, but the staff were efficient enough, neither group had to wait too long to get served.
Conversation was actually possible, not that seats could be found, but there was space enough at their respective sides of the bar for them to stand and chat. Which they did, drinks flowed easily, as did the chat.
Terry relaxed, enjoying the girls company, as he always did, they were good friends.
John was relaxed, he was enjoying reliving the highlights of the afternoon's game. Their laughter floated through the, otherwise fully occupied with themselves, pub goers. No one seemed to mind the ebullient Kiwi's. If they did, no one said anything about it.
The girls proceeded to try and find Terry a new, and locally available, boyfriend, or at least determine his tastes, to the nth degree. They had raucous fun, comparing and contrasting the various guys in the place, on their side of the dividing bar.
Terry was turned to face the bar as Dave wandered past his group, heading for the gents toilets, as he passed the group he heard a female voice ask her apparent boyfriend a question. The tone of voice was just so as to impinge on his awareness.
"Hey, Terry, what about that one?" Georgie had seen the unspotted before guy wander past. By the time Terry turned around, Dave was past them, heading on his way.
"Too fat." Terry grinned at his friend. "Looks married, judging by the love handles."
"You're just too picky!" Georgie gently slapped her friends shoulder. Terry just laughed at her, turned back to the bar and ordered their next round of drinks. As he turned back, having handed the drinks out, he had his head bent over to hear her latest observation on his tastes in men, Dave wandered back again. This time Georgie saw the ring on his left hand. "Damn, you were right!" She told him as the guy passed their spot.
Terry laughed out loud. Turning slightly away from her again.
Dave looked at them, and he smiled, they were obviously a happy group of friends. There was something about that laugh, like he'd heard it before somewhere. But he concluded that a man laughing has to sound the same as most any other man laughing in a pub.
Lizzie begged pardon next, she wandered round to the ladies toilets, around the other side of the central bar. As she did so, she had to squeeze passed a group of Kiwi lads, no doubt out celebrating their victory. Even though, in her opinion, they had undoubtedly cheated, somehow, if she could only figure it out.
"Hello darlin' this could be your lucky night?" Willy smiled a tad lewdly at her.
"True, it could, I might never see you again as long as I live." Lizzie pushed passed and headed for the sanctity of the toilets.
"She wasn't impressed, was she?" Dave teased his companion. It wasn't quite a friendship, but given time, it might head that way. So long as Willy never did anything to hurt that growing trust.
John eventually returned with their next round of drinks, passing them out he asked what he'd missed. He joined in the laughter as Dave detailed Willy's abortive attempt at chatting up the woman that had squeezed passed.
"Willy, you never heard of subtlety then?" John grinned at his friend. "You just lack technique."
"Well, see how you do, here she comes again!" Willy pointed behind them as Lizzie exited the toilet.
John turned to face the mystery woman that had shot Willy down in flames. He looked at Lizzie, Lizzie looked at him too. Neither spoke, they both sort of smiled, stepped a little closer to each other. John whispered at Lizzie, hoping the others didn't hear him.
"Round the other side, why?" Lizzie remembered Terry telling them that Johnny would be with friends that didn't know about them, couldn't handle Johnny being with a bloke at all in fact. "Shit!" she added, with feeling.
"Where you going next?" Johnny asked.
"No idea, it's a group choice, what about you lot?"
"None either." Johnny sighed, looked sheepish at her and smiled again. "She'll be right." He tried for hopeful, and sort of succeeded.
"Bloody Kiwi's.." Lizzie grumbled. "She'll be this.. she'll be that.. weird, you're all weird!" She laughed and indicated that she wanted past. John laughed too, he bowed, as best he could, out of her way, letting her pass, following where she walked as long as he could. He didn't see Terry.
"Well, she didn't cut you down and walk passed." Dave pointed out, looking after the woman as John crossed back to join them.
"No, it's in the technique, I tell ya!" John handed Dave his drink. "Don't drink it!" He glared at his friend, and headed for the otherside of the bar.
"Shall we go watch?" Willy shouted at their friends as John passed him.
"I'm goin' for a piss, ya daft beggar. You'll get arrested, or more likely thumped, trying that shit around here, ya know?" He met Willy's eyes, truth shining forth, reminding Willy he already had a lover, an unobtainable lover, but a lover non the less in that very city.
"Sorry, Johnny, see ya!" He turned back the group, quietened slightly.
"Yeah, sure." Johnny walked to the gents toilets, scanning the faces as he passed, finally seeing the one he was looking for. He crossed over to Terry and the girls.
He had to push passed several people to get to them, politely excusing himself as he did so. His voice sort of carried, at least the movement registered on Terry's awareness and he turned. Coming face to face with Johnny as he did so. They stood there, face to face, each grinning like an idiot, then reality crashed in around Terry.
"Shit, Bruford?" He looked around and tried to find the copper he knew was travelling with Johnny.
"He's the other side of the bar." Johnny stepped closer to Terry, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. "You staying here for long?"
"I could stand here all night." Terry grinned at his lover.
"Me too!" Johnny just grinned back, then remembered his other reason for wandering around here. "But I gotta go to the loo." He nodded in the direction of the Gents and grinned.
"Sorry mate, I gave up trawlin' in loo's years ago." Terry grinned back at him, then at the toilets. "But for you, this once." And he wandered off in the direction of the toilets, knowing that Johnny followed him.
Once inside the door, the quiet made them feel almost deaf for a moment.
"Where you heading next?" Johnny asked, not daring to actually kiss Terry, standing at the urinal, side by side, unable to not watch his lover piss. Luckily the place was deserted.
"Don't know, maybe the Kenilworth. The girls won't mind, not too much anyway, after all we're out for a drink and chat together, not trawling for available men." He looked at Johnny, seeing the thinning of his lips as he listened to Terry's description of their night out. "Mark you, in the Kenny I'll maybe have some luck, aye?" He giggled when Johnny's face went from tight to angered. "Do you think I'd do that?"
"Nah, not really, but them, the other gay blokes, it wouldn't stop them from trying, ya know?" Johnny did trust Terry, he simply didn't trust the rest of the world with him. "I'm possessive, okay?"
"I know, and I loves ya' for it. Look, we'd better get back, we'll drink up and head out to the Kenny, even if I've got to pull rank as it were." Terry grinned again. "Where are you lot heading?"
"Forresters I reckon." Johnny thought of the pubs he knew.
"Fine, see ya, lover." Risking it, Terry kissed Johnny, fleetingly, there and gone. So too was Terry, gone from his side. Johnny finished what he was doing, and joined Terry at the sinks to wash his hands.
"Oh, damn, you put it away!" Johnny saw Terry's face flush a deep red before he snorted in laughter, eyes crinkled up. John Lawless couldn't stop himself from grinning like an idiot at Terry's expression.
"Cock tease." Terry hissed, still grinning, then he snuck out the door, wary of Johnny's companions.
"Drink up girls, we gotta get outta here." He downed his drink and ushered his friends towards the door.
Once outside they could talk, and talk they did, it was worse than any interrogation Terry had ever lived through at the hands of the coppers back home. These three women could show any police force a thing or two about information gathering.
"What's going on?" Georgie and Maggie both wanted that one answered.
"Why stick with the shit if he's too scared to introduce you to his friends as his lover? Is he ashamed of you? Of himself?" Lizzie was on a roll.
"There are reasons, ok? Just accept that I can't tell you them." Terry tried to placate her, again.
"Is he married?"
"Separated." Terry replied, automatically.
"And if they see you, with him, then your name will be dragged through the divorce courts then?" Maggie asked, always ready to see the innocent side of things, and if that didn't suit, she would look at the far from innocent side of things. "Either that, or you're a crook and a mass murderer, wanted all over Kiwiland for your desperate crimes."
Terry just stood in the street, staring at her. Wandering which one to react to, suddenly aware that he was too drunk for this conversation.
"Something like that." He finally replied.
The girls, long used to Maggie's odd sense of humour laughed at them, nudged them forward and asked where they were headed?
"Kenilworth. I promised Johnny we'd stay in the Kenny for a while. They're going to the Forresters." Terry tried to look sheepish, it didn't work, he had to conclude he just didn't have the right kind of face for that expression. That idea made him laugh, softly. He'd travelled damn near twelve thousand miles, from his hole country to Scotland, and finally, he seemed to have found himself. He also concluded he was too drunk for any more profound reasoning and turned away from such thoughts.
"Oh, come off it. The Kenny?" Georgie looked at the offending pub as it hove into view. "We're supposed to be avoiding those old stomping grounds. You're going to get chatted up, and we'll be sitting like a bunch of lemons." She wasn't too keen on going into the oldest established gay bar in the city centre. Not that she objected to gays, far from it, she just objected to not being the centre of attention for all the cute guys around her. Not that that was a reason she'd ever agree to, any more than she'd agree to admitting she was getting too long in the tooth to actually be of any interest to younger men anyway.
"Yeah, well, Johnny's pals wouldn't be seen dead in there. So we can sit back and relax. Then, to make it up to you all, I'll pay for the taxi back to my place so you can mess it up with food containers."
"Oh, okay, deal!" Georgie reluctantly agreed, she really could see the sense in going there, she just didn't cope well with changes in her arraignments, not sudden ones like this one was. Especially not when drunk. Or so she told herself, and she believed her reasoning, absolutely.
As John and his group made it to the Forresters, that too was crowded out, not even room enough to get in for one drink. Not only that, but the crowd who were in there were far less than sociable towards a group of happy, celebrating Kiwi's. Back tracking, they retreated to Scotties and rethought their plans. Getting back to the Guest House in one piece seemed a very good idea to the drunk, but not incapable, men. John did worry about Terry, in the Kenilworth, he could foresee disaster if Terry and the girls exited a gay bar just as those yobs exited the Forresters. Terry was a Kiwi, and a gay Kiwi at that, doubly a target for the drunken gits in the Forresters.
Then the sounds of a fight invaded the pub. Not a quiet, one on one fight of the sort that are fairly common over drunken weekends, this was almost a war. As people erupted from the various pubs, Scotties included, they were almost forced out the door, and onto the street, right in the middle of the action.
John looked over to the more aggressive side of the fight, the Scottish side of the battle, and saw someone throw a chair, for no apparent reason, through one of the big plate glass windows of the Kenilworth. Though he felt it was no doubt because it was a crowded gay pub, if for no other reason. He got even more worried, Terry and the girls from his work were in there. His lover and their friends.
The quieter side, the one they had found themselves beside, were a much smaller group, made up of almost totally of Kiwi's, All Blacks fans, who still didn't shut up with the taunts about their teams victory. There was also a smattering of Aussie lads, more residents of the city, and the only place you'd currently find a Kiwi and an Aussie fighting side by side, as opposed to against each other, there being no love lost for either group in either homeland.
"Don't these idiots know when to be quiet?" Willy asked, looking daggers at the idiots in question right beside him.
"So, we won? Didn't we?" The nearest, very drunk, rugby fan asked him. "Again!" he added for emphasis, where, truly, non was actually needed.
"No, sunshine, we're about ta' lose ya' arsehole!" Willy pointed up the street to the good two dozen, or more, angered idiots on that side of the fight. No one moved, on either side, they just stood there, waiting for the other side to try something.
When the chair had come flying through the window it had narrowly missed Terry and the girls, they were well peppered by flying glass however. Almost like a synchronised action, about fifty mobile phones came out and everyone tried to phone the emergency services, coast guard being the only one not actually asked for.
Terry got to the door, before anyone else, simply because he was standing closest to it. Having seen what was going on on the outside, he ducked back in and announced to one and all that their was a battle brewing right outside the pub doors.
This being Edinburgh, Terry wasn't too sure how the pubs regulars were going to react to his news, what he didn't expect is four hundred people to try and get out both sets of door at once, and more or less try and simply trample the closest group that were getting between them and safety. Terry joined in the crush, ushering the girls before him. Once outside and outside the arena of war, he took stock of what was happening. He glanced down the street and caught sight of Johnny. It didn't look like Johnny and his friends were too pleased with the arses with them, but they were trapped, facing the bigger army of arses this side of the street.
Terry sent the girls home, no arguments, and for once, they went. They saw the look in his eyes, a look they had all seen in other eyes, just never Terry's. He was either going to start the fight, or end it. One or the other, they'd swear to it. They just didn't fancy waiting around for the bloodshed.
As they headed for Princes Street, and freedom, or at least the taxi ranks; he headed off up one of the alleyways that criss crossed the city centre. Too narrow to have enough passing trade, so no pubs or clubs on them, just the occasional massage parlour. As always he ignored them, he headed past the city block with the war brewing, and kept on going.
He headed behind the far away group, trying to get close to Johnny, if for nothing else than to protect him. He heard something, an ominous crowd-scream of rage and the sounds of dozens of pairs of feet pounding the street, heading for his Johnny, and his Johnny's friends. That he simply wouldn't tolerate, he sped up, hoping to reach them before disaster struck.
He reached the battle ground just as someone punched Johnny in the face. That was enough to have Terry throw caution to the wind and dive right in. His fist connected with Johnny's assailant's nose, knocking him off his feet. As he lay there, Terry kicked him, several times, for good measure, and pulled Johnny to the back of the fray.
"Are you ok?" He asked, panting for breath, heart racing from both the mad dash to reach Johnny in time, and the adrenaline from the fight.
"Yeah, fine, look, you'd better scarper, the police will be here soon. I'll get Dave and the others to the Guest House, you get yourself home." Johnny tried to push his concerned lover away from the fight, he failed. Terry had seen Dave Bruford, the one man that put him in the greatest danger, fall under the combined assault of three much heavier and nastier, even than himself, thugs.
"Let's just get them outta here, then we can argue about going home, okay?" He dived past Johnny and dragged one of Dave Bruford's assailants off the man, kicking, punching, using every ounce of the admittedly dirty fighting techniques that he had ever learned over the years just to get the man down, and keep him down.
John wasn't slow on the uptake, he helped Dave deal with the other two, then all three turned to look for Willy and Paul. Paul was spotted first, falling prey to a group of four drunken fighters. They all waded in, no one really looking at each other, John hoped he could keep it that way, keep his Terry safe from the others recognising him. It felt good though, to stand shoulder to shoulder with Terry and fight to save his friends.
Once Paul had been liberated, the search for Willy began, Willy was pinned to a wall by two thugs as a third one used his face as a punch bag. Terry dived forward to help his one time colleague in petty crimes all over Auckland. As the fist swung back for another blow, two hands shot out and grabbed it, One hand held is steady, the other yanked hard on the exposed thumb, wrenching it back and dislocating it, if not actually breaking it. The squeal of pain from the arse was almost a joy to hear, it actually raised a grim smile on Willy's face.
As soon as he saw Terry move, John moved too, he cover Terry's back, punching the guy nearest to Terry square on the nose, feeling the tell tale snap as it broke under his assault. The man dropped Willy's arm, the big Maori immediately made a fist and punched the man Terry Bowers was hauling off him, breaking his nose too. The other guy vanished, as the fight turned against them he's simply dropped Willy's arm and ran for it. No doubt not stopping till he reached home.
"Terry, get outta here." Johnny hissed. "Please love." He tried to whisper his plea, to keep his voice low enough so Dave's attention wasn't attracted.
Willy looked at Johnny Lawless, he looked at his saviour, his rescuer from a sever beating, if not worse. He looked right into the face of Terry Bowers. Bowers, Buyers, Lawless, Wilson.
"Holy shit, he's your Terry!?" Willy screamed out he question, holding Johnny's eyes for a split second before the wail of sirens could be heard approaching on the main roads.
"Fuck!" Terry swore, looking around him. "This way, we need to use the alley ways, the cops can't get their cars down them, an' they won't walk till the fighting's all over." He took off, leading the straggling group of no longer crowing Kiwi's on a merry dance through the back alleys of Edinburgh's city centre. He took them a long roundabout route, around the trouble spot, running where no one could watch them, walking where they could. Always, Terry was in the lead, Johnny and Willy flanking him.
"Why we running? We didn't start it, we weren't even involved in the start of it." Dave asked John as he tried to catch up his ever ahead of him friend.
"And the cops won't care. It'll be arrested, banged up till Monday, when you're supposed to be flying, and you've gotta explain to Susan and Joe, why you missed your plane and then got deported on several assault charges?" John glanced back at Dave, anger and something that looked remarkably like fear in his eyes.
Finally, the other rugby fans left the core group of John, his friends, and his lover. Terry had lead them to the top of the Royal Mile, back where Johnny could lead them to the Guest House, or where ever he wanted them to go.
He halted in mid flight. Rubbed both hands over his face as if suddenly weary, and sober. A single memory going round and round his mind. Willy Kaa had seen his face, had seen Johnny's reaction to him being there. What had he done? Other than possibly save his lover's life, or that of one of his lover's friends.
"Terry? You okay? Were you hurt?" Johnny no longer cared what anyone else thought, his lover had ran to his rescue, despite the extreme danger to himself, and he had stayed to save his friends. He put his arms around Terry, turning him, holding him close.
"Terry?" Dave finally realised what John had said. "Terry, your Terry. Your Terry is a bloke an' you never trusted me enough to tell me? I thought we were mates?" Dave was hurt, he didn't hold any prejudice against anyone's sexuality, he did hold prejudice against being lied too. A very quiet voice could be heard whispering to John, a voice he half recognised.
"Johnny, love, you're safe, your friends are safe. Maybe they'll let me cut a deal?" And the mysterious Terry pulled back, revealing a face Dave did indeed know.
"Bowers?" Dave's voice shot up several octaves in shock. "Your boyfriend is none other than Terry Bowers?"
"What of it? Terry, go, git yourself away while you can." Johnny again tried to shoo the younger man away.
"What, an' leave you here, with them? No way!" Terry refused to run. In truth he was tired of running, sometimes it seemed as if it was all he had ever done in his life. Ran from one crisis to another, well, this time he'd run no further, there was nowhere left to run anyway. "Johnny, talk to them, explain, maybe they'll understand."
Willy did understand, all the half said statements Johnny had made on the flight up from London. They finally all made a perfect, clear, sense to him. Terry was different, he was working, he was different than before, he was gentle, he was different. It kept coming back to those few words. He was different.
"Look, Johnny, you yourself said he was different, that he had changed, was gentle." Willy blushed, but cintinued. "Although my pretty face is thankful he's not all that gentle. I think you broke the poor bastards thumb, getting his fist outta my face."
And even Dave realised Terry Bowers had possibly saved his life, if not just his job, and his health, getting him out from under the drunken, enraged attackers he had succumbed to.
"Not to mention re-working a couple of guys dental work rescuing me too." Dave blushed as every eye turned to him. "Look, I'm not totally stupid you know. I know that John here loves his Terry, be he a him or a her. If John loves Terry Bowers there has to be something to said Mister Bowers to be worthy of loving. Stands to reason, you, Willy, said that John had said Terry had changed. In what way?" True to his inner nature Dave had set himself the task of devinning the truth, almost set himself up as judge jury and inquisitor, he could never set himself up as executioner, that was simply not his style.
Terry's response was halted by a gentle finger shushing him, his Johnny turned to face Dave, and he spoke in his lover's defence.
"Terry has changed, a lot, hell he works in a regular job, pays his taxes and stuff, just like any other working stiff. He's kept outta crime, kept outta trouble, only got involved tonight to save me, and you lot. Please, Dave, give him a break, for me?"
Dave Bruford looked at John Lawless, then at Terry Bowers, they stood so close together, a real, honest to God couple. If he turned Terry in, he'd also have to turn John in too, seeing as how John had harboured an escaped convict. And if he didn't, John would be immediately arse deep in an escape attempt, whether Terry Bowers wanted him to or not.
"So, what do you do?" He asked Terry, as if meeting him for the first time.
"Technical Data Intake for a big company, I sit at a computer all day and type, and type, and type. An' the craziest thing is.." Terry seemed to defocus, looking inward. "D'ya' really wanna' know what the craziest thing is?"
Dave nodded, almost spell bound.
"I actually enjoy it. I go out, I earn my living, honestly, like a regular Joe, an' I love it. It's like I found a real freedom here, d'ya' know what I mean? A freedom ta' really be me, whoever me really is? Nobody here knows what South Auckland is, no one here knows, or even cares, where or how I grew up. What school I went to, what gangs ran where I ran. None of that shite exists here, it's like I'm finally free. Outta reach of everyone, my da' or any of my so called family." The anger in his face showed so clearly, Dave had a rough idea what he might mean about his father. South Auckland father's didn't tend to support and understand their gay sons. As for the freedom, he knew that desire too. As much as he loved his wife and kids, he sometimes longed for the freedom to just up and leave and start afresh somewhere else, just as Terry had done. Started afresh, but Terry was speaking again, he put his own thoughts on hold to listen. "Finally someplace Mickey Cabe can't reach me."
"You know Mickey Cabe? How?" Dave was immediately interested. Mickey Cabe was one of the biggest, evilest, hardest to touch criminals in Auckland, the police had been after him for almost ever, and he always stayed one step ahead, just out of their reach. Dave saw a never before imagined opportunity here, the chance to get the inside dope on Cabe. He beamed at Terry, friendly, open, eager to hear all the younger man knew.
"Who you think set up the Aussie boys an' me? Where would I, a small time drug dealer, meet the contacts to set up with the likes of them? Mickey forced me into it. Said he'd tell everyone.." Terry blushed and dropped his face to the pavement, unable to look at any one, not even Johnny.
"He knew?" John hugged Terry closer as he felt the slighter frame of his lover begin to tremble.
"He made it his business to know, everything!" Terry tried to smile, it almost worked.
" Let me see if I got this, Cabe found out something about you, probably your preference for men over women then?" Dave paused as Terry nodded. "And he used this information to blackmail you into the bank job, why? What profit did he expect?"
"He didn't. I was set up to fail. He was due the Aussie boys big, and didn't want to pay up, I was set up by him to fail, an' set up by your side to fail. Little wonder then that it all went fuckin' pear shaped so fuckin' fast." Terry looked to what little he could see of the night sky. "All I wanted was out. Can you understand that?" He suddenly looked Dave square in the eye. "You know why every undercover operation ta' git him fails?" Dave shook his head, it was genuinely something that had driven Inspector Ellis to distraction over the years. "Ya' fail 'cos the guys ya' send in have no secrets, other than being cops. Ya' need someb'dy who does sheep, is queer, is inta rubber, pain, someb'dy sleazy, Mickey Cabe only feels safe when he's got big secrets on everybody, and yanks their chains ta' suit 'imself."
"So, what you're saying is, we need ta' recruit a sexual deviant and send him undercover?" Dave could picture the job ad. "Can't ya' see the ad? Wanted, one pervert, to join the Modern Police Force, only deviants need apply!" he couldn't help it, he laughed.
"Nah, can't do that, it's against the law, don't ya' know?" Terry grinned at the stunned man. "Can't use discriminatory terms, like only deviants need apply, has ta' be open ta' evr'b'dy."
"I've lost track of the number of times we've raided his place on Clive Road, we know he's dirty, but can we find the shit on 'im? Can we fuck as like." Dave grumbled, not to the group in general, but to Terry Bowers in particular. As he moaned, the group had started walking down the Royal Mile, slowly. Terry walked between John and Dave, nodding sagely as the copper spoke.
"You ever try his flat in Herne Bay?" Terry asked, actually surprised he was enjoying this conversation with the police man. Talking, together, as equals, and as human beings with something in common, and that something was friendship with one John Lawless.
"What flat?" The squeak had come back into Dave's voice. The light shone, clear as day, from his face, new information, and a source no one else could even guess at. It was far too good an opportunity to miss.
"The one he has on Sentinel Road, is what flat. It's in his mum's maiden name, or his granny's, something like that. It's, shit, number, shit, above the lawyers office." He looked at the rest of the group, hoping they would be inspired and in turn inspire him, he could see the property, just not the number.
"There's two lawyers offices on that road. McKetchin's or Suthy's?" Paul asked, blushed, and looked at the road when everyone looked at him. "They both got ta' rep'sent me ta' juvie." He blushed again.
"Suthy's, that's the one." Terry pointed a finger in the vague direction of Paul and nodded.
"Fuckin' hell!" Dave yelled this time, clearly annoyed. "An' criminal intelligence just didn't know this shit?"
"It's where he gets 'is blackmail stuff, once he suspects what ya' want, he has ya' loured there, an' he videos it all. Keeps all his records there, so his own shit hole place is clean." Terry loved the feral look of rapture that crossed Bruford's face. He also regretted that he would never see the look on Cabe's face when the copper took him down, he'd either still be in Scotland, or back home, in jail.
"If you can deliver Cabe into my hands, Terry, I'll keep yer secret." Dave grinned at the relieved look on Terry's face, and the matching one on John's face. John let his arm slip from Terry's shoulders and took his lover's hand. "You two are serious, aren't you?"
"I love 'im." John replied, simply.
"An' I love 'im too." Terry whispered.
"Terry, if I bag Cabe, I'll fuckin' love ya' too!" Dave laughed, put an arm around his biggest lead in years and resolved to leave him in peace, just have John pump him for information periodically. Or, better still, do it himself and leave john free to simply love Bowers, and keep him on the straight and narrow.
"Is that a promise or a threat?" Willy piped up. They all laughed at his question, walking down the long hill. Stopping only when they reached the Guest House.
Terry looked at them all, each and every one of them was blood splattered, it would no doubt raise a lot of suspicions with the hotel staff, and might even be reason enough for them to call the local police. There having been a riot in the city centre and all. He made a choice, a final show of trust, anyway, he could always put the flat on the market first thing Monday morning, if he felt he really needed to.
"You'd better come down ta' my place, an' clean up. You all look like ya' been in the wars. Don't wanna' frighten the staff an' have them send for the cops do you?" Everyone of them realised what a show of trust Terry was making, and just because they were John's friends. If ever they had doubted his love for John Lawless, they didn't now.
"Yeah, thanks, that'd be a great help." Willy clasped the former psychotic's shoulder in a friendly gesture he would never have dared back home. To his utter amazement, Terry hugged him back, briefly, fleetingly, but the gesture was there, was made, and appreciated.
Terry and John lead the way.
They did stop off at the Chinese Take Away, Terry laughed as he halted, he told John all about the girls plans for his flat, the mess they had planed to leave him after they'd finished there Chinky's. They even laughed with him when he told the men of their reasoning, how as their gay, male friend, his flat was by some hidden law of nature, tidier than theirs.
As they entered, chinese meals in their hands, they had to conclude that Terry's female friends had been right. Dave saw a place as clean as his wife kept their home, if not cleaner, there being no young kids running around creating their own brand of lived in mayhem. Willy and Paul had to admit, to themselves at least, that neither of them kept a place this tidy either.
Once they finally cleaned up, and had finally eaten their food, three of them returned to the Guest house, leaving John with his Terry, and saying nothing about it to anyone.
As Dave got ready for bed, he made a quick note of the details Terry had given him. The building to check up on, all the details. As informants went, no one as highly placed in the organised crime rackets of Auckland as Terry Bowers had been, had ever come forward; that being so, he'd do his damnedest to protect Terry's safety come what may. Who knew what else the reformed young man could send his way. If he could bag Mickey Cabe, his career would be back on track and Joe would finally forgive him the loss of wage rise from John's last run in with DSS Snow. The look on Inspector Ellis' face as he brought in Cabe was almost joy enough in and of itself.
In their bedroom, John watched as Terry entered him, watched the way they came together, perfectly, as if made for each other. There was no greater erotic sight for John, than that of them loving together. He gasped, sharply, as Terry pulled on a bruise from the fight.
"Sorry, lover, didn't mean ta' hurt ya' like ever." Terry whispered, glad that John's secret was at last out and accepted. But by far happier that John was there, with him, till they all flew home. And finally a giant leap towrds his dream of being together openly. One day, he might even get to go home. Home to Johnny.