Three Tears
by David Heulfryn

 

Chapter Eleven

When Martin entered the ‘Lord Duncan’ pub, he saw Phil waiting in a corner with a half-drunk pint. After the previous date, when he had turned up late, he wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again, so in his haste, he arrived half an hour before they had planned to meet.

Phil stood up as Martin approached and went to place a kiss on Martin’s lips, who recoiled for an instant but then accepted the lover’s greeting.

The pub was quite busy, with young people milling around the bar. Martin watched as they seemed to greet everyone who walked in and wondered if anybody was in the place they didn’t know. Sitting at the tables, groups and couples huddled together. The couples would play footsie under the table or lean into each other to kiss. Phil and Martin seemed to be one such couple; they sat closely together, and Phil often placed an arm around Martin’s shoulder, bringing him closer for a casual hug.

Unfortunately, the most shielded table was taken by another couple who never seemed to part from their intense kissing. It meant that everyone could easily see Phil and Martin in the bar.

“Hi, Phil. Don’t usually see you in during the week.” A tall, dark-haired youth of about nineteen broke away from his group to speak to Phil.

“No, well, I’m usually busy working. But I’ve managed to swap some shifts.”

“And with good reason, I see. Who’s the gorgeous new boy?” He looked at Martin.

Martin blushed at the description and turned to Phil, anticipating an introduction.

“Ed, this is Martin. Martin, this is Ed.”

Ed casually extended his arm to shake hands.

“I usually hang around with Ed at weekends and go to the clubs.”

“Yes,” Ed pouted, “but he’s not been out for the last few weeks. And we can now blame you for that.” He smiled at Martin.

Ed pulled up a chair and sat down, not seeing the look exchanged between Martin and Phil. Ed was the type of person who could talk for hours without letting the people he was talking to say anything. He always seemed to have so much to say, telling stories about past nights out of the successful or unsuccessful moves he’d put on some cute guy.

This time, Ed explained what happened last weekend when Phil couldn’t make it and the cute guy he’d taken home. Martin was listening open-mouthed as he recounted the sexual antics they got up to, the unashamed way he would tell anybody and the casual manner he treated sex and the people he did it with.

“So, I took this gorgeous guy home. I can’t remember his name now, but I don’t suppose it matters. He was blond and everything, with an adorable smile. I mean, anyone would think he was drop-dead gorgeous with his clothes on, but with his clothes off, he was even more gorgeous with a really huge and thick dick. I tell you, I could have just looked at him forever. Anyway, looking at his huge dick got me really horny, and then we went at it on the bed. My hands were all over him, but I suppose I should point out here we were both pretty drunk and no matter what I tried, he couldn’t get it more than half up. Wanking, tossing, sucking, nothing. He didn’t seem too bothered and just carried on pawing me. In the end, I just gave up on him, rolled him over and just fucked him. It was a pity, though, as I really wanted to feel him up to me. Now, if I saw him again, I wouldn’t hold it against him as we were pretty drunk. But next time, I’d make damn sure we left early before he got too rat-arsed.”

“Well, I’m glad I wasn’t there to witness it.” Phil finally got a word in.

“Perhaps this Saturday, surely you can’t be busy with your new plaything all evening.” He winked at Martin, alluding to the sex they weren’t having.

“Sorry, can’t. But I’m sure I’ll see you around, and you can tell me all the sordid details, as usual.”

“Yes, well. I hope you both enjoy yourselves, and I’d better leave you two lovers alone. Have fun. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winked at Martin, got up, and went to the bar. He shouted across at his mate, “Oi, Mike. Your round, isn’t it? Go on, you fucking cheapskate.”

Martin was silent for a moment. “Well, he seemed nice.” He said to Phil, and they both started laughing.

“Is that what it’s really like when you go out with him?” Martin asked.

“No. Well, yes, for him, but not for me. I just have a good time. I’ve never got off with anybody, but I would always see him attached to a new boy each week and then disappear. I’m not into all that like him.”

“So why do you go out together?”

“Don’t know really. I suppose he’s good fun and a laugh. He also helped me when I first started going to these bars. He sort of took me under his wing and was the friendliest face I could meet. He may be OTT, but he helped me come to terms with myself and was someone I could talk to about how I felt. Back then, he sort of had a softer side, and you would rarely see the Ed you just saw today. But as time went on and I became more confident, he turned into the loveable and caring person you just saw today.”

Martin smiled.

“It’s all an act with him, you see. This grand diva just started to emerge. But I do still see his other side occasionally. He started to cover it up when he lost his boyfriend. Well, he was unceremoniously dumped by him, and he took it badly. I don’t think he’ll be ready to get involved with someone again for some time.”

As Phil talked about his friend, Ed was no longer the arrogant and brash sex fiend Martin first imagined him to be and now saw him as someone just lashing out after being hurt. Looking over at the bar, Martin saw him talk and gesticulate vociferously to his mates; he now looked at his face and saw a beauty that was not previously present.

“Where you and him ever involved?”

“Good god, no. Even when he’s on his best behaviour he’s a bit much for me. We were, are, only friends. He’s a riot when we go clubbing at weekends. You could come along.”

Martin hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, if you ever want to… Do you want another drink?” Phil noticed their pints were nearly finished. Martin said yes, and Phil went to the bar.

“So what is this job of yours where you have to change shifts so we can meet?” Martin asked as Phil sat back down, placing the full glasses on the table.

“Oh, it’s not much. It’s just a supermarket job. I work on the tills. I’m saving most of it up for university.”

“So, you taking a year out?” At nineteen, Phil would typically have already started university.

“No, I’m still at college. It’s my final year of A-levels.” Phil noticed a confused look from Martin. “I bollocked up my GCSEs, so I had to retake some at college. Then I started my A-levels a year late.”

“Oh, what happened?”

“Well, let’s say I’m not proud of it, but I sort of just went off the rails completely. No one understood what I was going through, and I couldn’t tell anybody, so I just lashed out at everyone and everything. I bunked off school and failed half of my exams. It was my brother who sorted me out. At first, I would yell and swear at him, and then I started to hit him, but he stayed by me until I finally broke down and told him what I was going through. Looking back, I was a right bastard. I suppose you can say I’m only here with you because of my brother, your teacher. You should thank him next time you see him.”

Phil put his arm around Martin and hugged him tightly, gripping one of the few good things that had come into his life. Martin thought he heard a faint sniff from Phil, the pain of his youth coming back to him.

“So, anyway.” He released Martin from his hug. “John got me back on track, got me started in college and even managed to help me get work again as a model.”

“Really. Have I mentioned James, my brother, is also a model? What sort of things did you do?”

“All sorts really. It was mainly catalogues, but I was getting too old by then. But you couldn’t open a catalogue when I was much younger without me popping up in the kids’ pages. But now the catalogue stuff has dried up, and they are using proper male models. I generally just do the occasional life modelling for art classes and the odd bit of acting. I tried getting on an agency’s books to do it properly, but I wasn’t right for it. Not the right look, they said. Funny, isn’t it? As a kid, I was in demand, but by the time I was seventeen, I was on the scrap heap.”

When Martin asked Phil about his acting, he mentioned it was primarily corporate stuff. He would be hired to play the part of an employee, and they would role-play different scenarios, such as customer service or health and safety. At least he’d managed to save up quite a bit for university, so he wouldn’t have to take out huge loans or get a job for the hours he wasn’t in lectures.

“I’ve got a scrapbook back home. When you come round on Saturday, I’ll show you if you want.” Phil offered.

“Can’t wait.” Martin smiled.

“I’ve also got a few of the corporate videos I did. Watching them now, I see that they are hilarious, especially when you see that I can’t act. Lord knows why they picked me.”

Martin took a long draw on his pint to fill the silence where he should have said something. He enjoyed listening to Phil talk and wished he had led a more interesting life so that he would have some tales to tell. But he considered himself boring and had done nothing worthy of recounting in a pub. What little he had to tell Phil about himself had already been said when they first met. His confidence deteriorated, and Martin hunched his shoulders.

“James is going to a desert island for four weeks.” Martin unwittingly raised his voice slightly. His brother always led a more interesting life than him, so he thought he’d tell Phil about him.

After Martin had finished prattling on about his brother and the television programme he was making, he sat silent again, waiting for Phil to speak. When he didn’t, Martin mustered the courage to tell him what he wanted to do.

“Phil, I want to kiss you again.”

In full view of the bar and Ed’s constant glances in their direction to see what they were up to, Martin kissed Phil.

It was not the quick peck that Phil had expected, but a passionate, lingering kiss and hard embrace where Martin gripped and hugged him closer. His tongue explored Phil’s lips and mouth, causing him to groan as Martin felt the ridges of Phil’s spine as his hand caressed his back. Before breaking off, Martin boldly brought his hand around Phil’s hips and rubbed his crotch. He was hard. Martin cupped his bulge and gently squeezed, Phil stifling his groans.

As Martin finally released Phil, he looked into his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days.” He said as Ed whooped at them from across the bar.

Martin suddenly felt liberated and wanted to jump and shout. But more than that, he wanted more of Phil and imagined what he wanted to do with him if they were alone.

“Bloody hell.” Phil gasped and glanced over at Ed who quickly quietened down.

That moment saw Martin change, becoming more tactile and open about his feelings. He had seized the moment with Phil and was determined not to regress to his old timid self. As they walked out of the pub, Martin walked tall, his face beaming, and he did not care whether anyone was looking at him.

The night was still early, so they walked around the time for a while. They wanted to be alone and explore each other but had to make do with furtive kisses and walking hand in hand when they were sure they were alone. Phil began to feel a chill from the cool night air and let go of Martin’s hand to zip up his jacket.

Their meandering ended at the bus terminal. Sitting on a bench, Phil ensured Martin had his address and went over how to get there twice to ensure he didn’t get lost. He would have brought out an A-Z if he’d had one, but Martin was confident he could find it. Besides, if he got lost, he still had his mobile number.

Taking Martin over to the side where they were concealed, Phil kissed Martin and let his tongue explore once again. His hands squeezed Martin’s backside and pushed their hips together so he could feel Martin’s hard bulge, and no doubt Martin could feel Phil’s. Nothing more was said about Saturday, but Martin thought it held the promise that they would finally be alone together.

Releasing him, Phil said. “You go catch your bus. I’ll see you in three days.”

 

Martin silently crept into his home. He saw the flicker of the television in the front room. He poked his head around the door and said goodnight to his father, who was still up and tip-toed up the stairs.

James was fast asleep in bed, curled up tight and lightly snoring. Standing over him, he looked down, his smooth and contented face, his hair ruffled on the pillow, and the duvet only perceptively rising and falling with each breath.

Wanting to kiss him and tell him how much he loved him, he mouthed the words in case the noise woke him. His new feeling of liberation and the effects of the drink meant he wanted to tell his entire family how much he loved them and considered going to see Tony. But he suddenly felt exhausted and stumbled over to his bed.

After undressing and throwing his clothes on the floor, he went to the bathroom to empty his bladder one final time this evening.

 

James’ Diary
Martin says he’s nearly finished my picture. He also mentioned something about Tony wanting to see it. I wasn’t too fussed, so I agreed he could see it when he showed me. I must say I’m looking forward to it. I’m also very interested in seeing what Mum and Dad think, and I will enjoy seeing the look on their faces.

Martin seems to be coming out of his shell a little bit more. I don’t know what’s happened, or more to the point, who’s happened to him, but he seems very happy. It’s strange to notice, but he’s smiling a lot more and is more talkative. He’s even been known to crack the odd joke or two these days. Tonight, he’s gone out again. It is slowly becoming a habit for him; I just hope she’s worth it. I won’t bother to wait up for him this time; it might look like I’m being nosey. Besides, he won’t tell me anything anyway, and I’ll just get some cryptic statement like he’ll let me know soon. When it’s all bloody over, and he’s in a mess, that’s when he’ll tell me. Then everything will be back to normal, him looking serious all the time and never cracking a smile.

School’s really boring at the moment. Now that our exams are over, there isn’t much point in going. But mum says I have to.

Tom rang me up yesterday, and I asked him over this weekend. I thought we could hang out on Saturday, so he’s coming over to my place. I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I really like him and not just in a friendly way. It’s got nothing to do with him dropping his trousers at the drop of a hat. He’s fun, and he makes me laugh. There is something about his cute smile that sends a tingle down my spine. I’ve had crushes before but have never done anything about them, but I keep thinking that if I’m ever going to find a boyfriend, I’d better start acting on them. I’m not sure about Tom, though. Part of me wants him to know, but another part is afraid. If I tell him before we leave and he takes it badly or doesn’t feel the same way, then I could end up being branded the only queer on the island and my time there would be hell (it might make some good telly, though). I just don’t know. Sometimes, I get the impression that he feels the same way about me, but then I figure it could just be him and his overly friendly manner. Perhaps I should just put it to the back of my mind, like my crush last year on the new boy at school, Rob.

I am beginning to feel a little nervous about going away now. Four weeks is a long time, and I will miss everyone, especially now that Martin has loosened up. And no doubt they’ll miss me, but they’ll have a lovely nude painting of me so they don’t forget me. I know I’ll be alright, and I’ll have Tom with me; plus, I seemed to get on with a couple of others when we met a few weeks ago.

 

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