Chapter 20

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Chapter 20: Roadblock

We had a quiet Sunday afternoon, uninterrupted except for our trip to Sainsbury's.  Ashok made a stir fry for dinner which we ate back at the bistro table with a beer for me and a cider for him.  Things between us weren't tense, exactly, but our earlier conversation introduced an air of uncertainty that we found difficult to overcome. It wasn't until I asked if he and Vince had made any plans for the week that Ashok came out of his shell a little as he told me about the things he planned to try cooking and the things he would be helping Vince with around the property. I was glad he and Vince got on so well, but a little worried too. Vince had always demonstrated great understanding and tolerance when it came to my relationship with H., sometimes even greater than Greg, but I wasn't sure even he would support me if I tried having a relationship with Ashok while I was still seeing H.  I'd observed firsthand how protective all my friends had been of the boy, and I couldn't see them embracing the idea that he share me with my other lover, even if Ashok told them that it was all his idea.  My relationship with H. had made me the subject of pity and derision.  If I pursued this relationship with Ashok, it could well make me the pariah. My thoughts flashed forward to a time when I would no longer be welcome at their gatherings and they would be trying to convince Ashok to find someone else, just as they always tried to convince me to leave H.  I knew it was too much to hope to have H., Ashok and my friends in my life, and that I'd have to give up one of the three. I just didn't know if I was actually capable of doing what I knew had to be done.

Time seemed to stand still when I was at work. With the urgent project done and out of the way, I settled back into the everyday monotony of my job, leaving me with loads of time to imagine my discussion with H.  I went over hundreds of different permutations, trying out various approaches and contemplating the myriad of responses he could offer to each one. Although I was terrified of what he might say, I took advantage of one of Greg’s last days before he left to join Viktor in Austria and arranged to have lunch together so I could tell him everything that had happened since we talked at Hampton Court.  Greg was as shocked as I was by Ashok's logic and proposal. 

"That's definitely a foreign point of view," he mused.  "I mean, I loved you when we were younger.  I was head over heels.  I would have done anything to get you away from H.  But it never would have occurred to me to suggest a sharing arrangement.  I don't think I could have handled it, knowing you were with both him and me."

"I know. I'm not sure I could handle that either, but Ashok seemed so genuine when he suggested it. Do you something like that could ever work?"

"Do you?" he challenged.

I shook my head, though slowly and reluctantly.  A part of me definitely wanted to believe it could all work the way Ashok described, that I could have my cake and eat it too. "I don't know what to think anymore.  I've fallen in love with other men while I still loved H., so I know it's possible to love two men at once.  But is it possible to find three men who can all live with that kind of arrangement...?"

"I can't imagine his lordship ever agreeing to it," Greg opined. "Ashok was spot on when he surmised H. would rather keep you miserable waiting for his scraps than happy with someone else."

"I suppose that would be a good reason to leave him," I said uncertainly.

"Don't you mean it would be yet another good reason to leave him?  There's certainly no shortage of reasons.  I could list them for you if you'd like."

"Don't bother.  I've heard them all before," I shook my head, taking a bite of my sandwich. 

"You do plan to tell him, though, right?  About what happened with Ashok?"

"Like I told you Saturday, of course I'll tell him.  I may be a cheater, but I'm not a liar." I grimaced a little at the brutal self-assessment.

     

"Please, Rick, before you tell him, think about everything very carefully.  You know what they say: be careful what you ask, you may just get it?  Use caution, my friend, and really consider what you want in life.  You were pretty resolved in Dubai to end this charade with H., and now you have yet another good reason to do so.  Ashok is such a sweet kid.  It's obvious to anyone with eyes that he idolizes you, and you as much as admitted you've fallen for him.  Just imagine what a wonderful life the two of you could have together.  I know leaving H. would be hard, but sometimes the difficult path brings the greatest rewards."

"Stop, you're starting to sound as trite as Polonius," I frowned as he laughed.

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be..." he quoted. I picked up my glass and clinked his.  

"Now that bit of advice I can follow, if you ignore the mortgage, of course."

I was glad to have confided in Greg, but our conversation didn't exactly put me at ease, and by Wednesday night my nerves were frayed raw. Despite his effort to appear calm, I could feel tension radiating from Ashok when I came home that evening. He'd set a beautiful table and prepared a fantastic meal, complete with a delicious dessert, but it was difficult for either of us to truly enjoy it.  Watching the telly didn't help. Even trying to talk about Greg and Helena, and how happy they must have been to finally be reunited with Viktor, wasn't enough to distract us. Finally, quietly and tentatively, Ashok asked if we could go to bed early, and I instantly agreed.    

We'd slept together every night after our talk Sunday, but at my request we went back to just holding each other.  As much as I wanted him, I thought deepening our involvement before I had a chance to speak with H. would be unfair to Ashok.  He seemed to understand, if not agree, and for three nights he went along, snuggling up against me at night, but not pressing for more.  Wednesday night, however, was different.  

As soon as we were both in bed, he turned to face me, his eyes locking with mine. "If this is the last night we're together like this," he began and my heart clenched at the thought of having to go back to sleeping alone every night.  I swallowed past the lump in my throat and forced myself to listen, though my mind wanted to dive headlong into despair.  "If that's the way it has to be after tomorrow, I would only ask, please..." he paused, obviously torn and likely afraid that I would deny the request, whatever it was.  I wished I could reassure him that I would grant him whatever he wanted, but I feared that would be a lie, so instead I just waited. "If we can never be together again, I would like to be with you, to feel you inside me, just this once."

It was obvious how difficult that was for him, and it was equally difficult for me to turn him down.  The truth was, I would have loved nothing better than to make love to him that night, all night.  I might easily have given in to his plea, too, were it not for one insurmountable obstacle.

"Ashok, as much as I would love that, I can't. I don't have any condoms here."

"Condoms?" Ashok spoke the word without comprehension, as though it was the first time he'd heard or said it.

"Right, condoms," I searched for a way to explain without sounding too clinical, but could think of none.  In the end, I decide to just state facts. "They're something a man puts over his penis to keep the fluids from... It's mostly to stop sexually transmitted diseases."  

"Diseases?  But we are both in good health." he frowned. 

"I know it seems that way, but some viruses can hide inside your body for years and you don't know you have them until much later.  In the meantime, if you're having unprotected sex, you can spread the virus to others."

"And condoms stop this?"

"They do," I nodded, thinking how strange it was to be having such a discussion with him in that moment. "I take it you and Pankaj didn't use condoms?"

Ashok shook his head.  

"Well, since you both were exclusive, that was probably safe.  But H. and I always use them, and if we ever get to that point, we should too," I explained. 

"And you do not have any here?" he confirmed. 

"No, I have no need for them here."

"Oh," he seemed deflated.  His eyelids fell over his eyes to shield them from my view, but his face reflected his disappointment.  I pulled him closer and kissed him, doing what I could to make things better.  He was noticeably reluctant at first, but as my lips moved against his, gently coaxing, he began to respond. 

I made myself go slow and savor every moment, even as our mutual excitement and need grew to fever pitch.  I kissed him everywhere, relishing his sweet flavor as my tongue read every inch of his warm and mostly smooth skin.  When I turned him over onto his stomach and licked along the raised trails of his scars, I mentally cursed the person or people responsible as well as myself, for forgetting to ask about the story behind them. He whimpered excitedly as I lavished attention on his arse cheeks, licking, kissing, and nipping at the tight, muscular mounds, and squirmed with giggles when I moved to kiss the back of his thighs, behind his knees, his calves and ankles. But it was when I retraced my path upwards and paused at his arse again, that I received the most genuine and welcome response.  He gasped as I used my hands to part his cheeks, using my thumb to trace his tight little opening.  I watched as he forced his body to relax, preparing to welcome my breach.  I knew he probably thought I'd changed my mind, but while I couldn't give him exactly what he wanted, I could offer what I hoped would be a pleasurable substitute. With his cheeks still parted, I lowered my face and ran my tongue in a broad swath along the length of his crack, from right behind his balls to his tailbone. 

"Rick!" the tone of his surprised exclamation was so high, it sounded almost like a squeak, and his cheeks clenched beneath my hands in response to the unexpected sensation.

"Relax.  Everything's all right.  Let me make you feel good," I spoke softly, massaging his suddenly tensed glutes, until I felt him relax beneath me again. I washed my tongue through the channel between his cheeks several more times before I paused to concentrate on the ring of furrowed flesh around his entrance. I used the tip of my tongue to trace the outline, exploring the topography of the delicate ridges and valleys.  I loved the way he tasted, and loved even more his little moans and the way he tried pumping his hips against the mattress.  I used my hands to pin him down so that he was immobile as I directed my tongue to the center of the ring and pressed it inside him. He let out a cry, muffled against his pillow, and spread out his legs more to give me better access.  I renewed the grip on his cheeks and parted them further as I jabbed the tip of my tongue into his hole. I could feel his scrotum tightening beneath my chin and heard another strangled cry as I began to tongue fuck him in earnest, thrusting as much of the muscle as I could into his relaxing channel.  His resulting noises and movements turned me on beyond measure and I began rutting against the mattress myself, seeking some small measure of relief as I concentrated on pleasuring my lover.     

I didn't have to guess how much Ashok was enjoying my attention.  Everything he did, from the sounds he made, to the way he pushed his arse back into my face and the way his balls crowded to the base of his dick made it abundantly clear that I'd hit the jackpot.  I loved how much I was turning him on and my own raging hard on was proof that I felt the same way, but as good as this was, I wanted still more.  After one last thrust and broad lick, I lifted first my face and then the rest of my body up so that I could flip Ashok back over.  I pushed his legs up and slid my body up as well until his ankles were anchored over my shoulders and his arse was enticingly rolled up off the mattress, giving me a perfect view of his tight little hole.  His deep brown eyes were glazed with lust yet trained on me, so I very deliberately brought a hand to my face and slipped two fingers inside my mouth, coating them with saliva.  I saw his breath catch and his lips part as he realized what I intended. I held his gaze for a moment, captivated by the eager anticipation on his face.  If this was to be our last night together, I wanted to make it as memorable as I possibly could, for him and for me.  The few moments of delay in our gratification would give us time to settle and absorb what we had done so far, before raising the bar even higher.

I slowly dipped my head toward his abdomen, where the head of his hard, dark prick hovered above his body.  My eyes still locked with his, I ran my tongue from the base of his dick all the way to the swollen head. I circled the tip with my tongue, and then flicked it against his sensitive frenulum.  I watched his eyes close as I concentrated my attentions on his cock head, alternately suckling on it, licking it, and even ever so gently grazing it with my teeth, just enough  to make him shudder beneath me, but certainly not to cause any pain. It was only when he was no longer watching that I moved my saliva slicked index finger to circle his still relaxed hole. Before he could open his eyes in surprise, I pushed my finger in up to my knuckle. Encountering no resistance and seeing no evidence of pain or objection, I pressed my finger deeper in, as far as it would go, while also slipping my mouth further down his shaft.  He moaned as I moved my finger inside him, finding and brushing it against his prostate.  I started slowly bobbing up and down on his length and fucking him with my index finger at a matching pace. His quiet, encouraging grunts were music to my ears. When he began to move beneath me, seeking more, I added my middle finger and began to thrust faster, taking care to stimulate his pleasure node as the length of his cock slid deep into the tight confines of my throat.  

"Rick, Rick," he chanted my name, quietly at first and then with increasing volume and urgency as I propelled him towards orgasm.  His body signs were easy to read and I did not need to hear the final alarmed "Rick!" to know when he went over the edge.  He trembled beneath me as his cream flowed directly down my throat, without me even having to swallow.  My tentative brush against his prostate elicited another shudder and cry.  Wanting to taste him, I pulled my head back so that he was in my mouth again, his juice spilling over the taste buds on my tongue. I pressed his prostate again for another pulse, and then just left my fingers inert inside him as I suckled out the last of his offering and licked him clean. 

Slowly, I withdrew my fingers and pulled my mouth off his cock, and then sat back, moving his legs off my shoulders onto the mattress.  He was sprawled out on the bed, relaxed and boneless, a smile of total contentment on his lips. He opened his eyes when I didn't immediately lie down at his side.

"You look amazing," I told him.  "I wish you could see yourself just now, so we could both always remember this moment." 

"I am not amazing," he replied. "It is you who are amazing.  How I look right now is because of you. I would like to do the same for you." 

"Would you?" I shifted so that my knees were on the outside of his thighs, and moved forward until I was supporting myself on my knees and hands as I hovered directly above his body, my hard mast resting on his stomach next to his softened member. I lowered my lips to his and kissed him deeply, letting our tongues entwine, answering his muffled moan with my own.  He moved his hands up to grasp my shoulders and held onto me tightly, fingers digging into my flesh, as though I was lifting him off the ground and he was afraid to fall. Then I felt him pull himself up, his head still resting on the pillow, creating a sexy arch to his neck as he pressed his chest up to mine and gyrated beneath me to create friction for my cock. I moved my lips off his and kissed down his chin and neck, licking around his Adam's apple before taking it in my mouth and clamping my teeth around it just enough for him to feel pressure, but not pain.  

"I want to take you in my mouth and make you feel good," Ashok said, his voice halting as I sucked and play-bit his throat.  

"Is that really what you want?"  I asked huskily, flicking my tongue against his Adam's apple and then trailing it back up over his chin and to his lips, tracing their outline as I looked into his eyes.  

"Yes, please," he confirmed.  

"All right, but you'll need to let go," I agreed.  He instantly complied, sinking back into the mattress and resting his arms at his sides.  I pushed up with my arms until I was on all fours above him.  I crawled towards the headboard, grabbed it with my hands, and moved the rest of the way on my knees until the tip of my hard cock was above his lips.  I watched him focus his eyes on my hardness, licking his full lips in anticipation, desire clear in his face and eyes. I gave myself a stroke that released a good bit of precum.  Gravity pulled slowly at the fluid which slowly stretched into a slow, long drip that reached all the way to his lips before finally breaking off at the top. He licked it up and kept his mouth open, silently imploring me with his eyes. I used my hand to angle myself down until I could trace his lips with my weeping tip, leaving a slick trail in my wake that he followed with his tongue.  

I quickly realized that while this was sexy as hell, it wasn't the ideal position for what he and I both wanted. I reached down to grab him under his pits, pulling him up until his head and shoulders rested against the headboard. I pulled him forward with one hand while I grabbed the pillow with the other and arranged it behind him to make him comfortable. He immediately understood my intent and lifted his hands to my waist, holding on as he shifted his body until he was directly in front of me and had only to open his mouth and slip his lips over my erection.  

I let out a quiet grunt at the warm, wet embrace of his mouth and lapping tongue.  A shudder went through me and my hips flexed involuntarily, pushing me even deeper within. Ashok's eyes bulged a little, but he did not retreat, just continued his tongue work. 

"Shit, I'm sorry!" I immediately pulled back a bit, not wanting to cause him any discomfort. With just my cock head in his mouth, he found my slit and washed through it over and over with the tip of his tongue.  Then he used the entire flat surface to circle my head.  His hands moved from my waist down to my arse and he left them there as he leaned forward to take me in as deep as he could.

"Fuck!  Your mouth feels so good on me!" I encouraged as he bobbed, sucking and licking. I moved my hands to either side of his head and just held him as he moved, my fingers combing through his hair. I was plenty turned on from having made him come earlier and I knew if he picked up the pace a little I would come very quickly, but I also knew there was something else that would make this blow job even better. I let go of his head and lifted his right hand to my mouth, sucking his index and middle fingers to coat them with my spit.  For the first time, I saw apprehension in his eyes.  I couldn't be sure without asking, and he would have a hard time answering with his mouth full, but I guessed he knew what I wanted and it was something he hadn't done often, if ever.

"Did you like it when I finger fucked you earlier?"  I asked, pulling his fingers out of my mouth.  He nodded even as he continued to bob on my cock.  "I like it too. Will you do that for me?"  This time the nod was more hesitant. "It will please me, Ashy. I want your fingers inside me when I come!" I urged spreading my knees wider and sticking out my butt to make it easier for him. Tentatively, he reached between my legs and slipped his slicked up fingers between my arse cheeks until his index finger found my hole. 

"Right there, push it in! You won't hurt me," I encouraged, my right hand tightening in his hair in anticipation as I felt him pressing against my entrance.

He began to move his tongue frantically and suck faster, as if to distract me.  It had been weeks since anyone or anything had been inside me, so his initial penetration burned a little, but his finger was so slim that soon I hardly felt it at all. "More, baby, use another finger!" I demanded.  I sighed with pleasure when he immediately complied. "That's it!  Feels so good!" Noting my reaction, Ashok grew bolder.  He bobbed faster and began to move his fingers inside me until he found my prostate. I was so charged up I nearly came the first time he pressed against it. "Oh, fuck!" I cried out and used the hand I left in his hair to stop his movement as I concentrated on staving off the orgasm.  It was a good several seconds until I loosened my grip and let him move again.  "You have me so close. I'm gonna come soon!" I told him. 

He seemed more confident when he started sucking fast again, moving his lips up and down my shaft in an erotic massage while his fingers stimulated my prostate.  I closed my eyes, feeling the internal pressure building.  This time, I wasn't in the mood to stop it. I gave myself over to my senses and let him push, pull and massage me closer and closer to the edge until he finally drove me over. "Yes, yes!" I shouted, quivering from the inside out. White stars exploded behind my closed eyes as my dick pulsed shot after shot of cum into his waiting mouth. I was drained in every way and slumped forward, reaching out at the last second to brace myself against the headboard. I rested my forehead on top of his head while he was still using his mouth and tongue to gently coax out the last of my syrup and rubbing my arse cheeks soothingly with both hands. 

                          

"I'm gonna lie down now, okay?" I asked as I felt my leg muscles relax into jelly. He released me from his mouth in response so I could move my body and lower it to the mattress beside him.  With his head and shoulders still propped up on the headboard, it was easy for me to lean over from my prone position and flick my tongue against his nipple, which was still constricted into a hard tiny pebble. I reached between his legs to find him not completely hard, but certainly no longer entirely soft, and briefly considered trying to get him off again.  I was tired, though, and there was something soothing about the idea of both of us just resting together, enjoying the post-coital satisfaction.  He must have agreed, because he shimmied down and moved closer to me, turning and half-resting his body over mine.  I wrapped my arm around him, holding him close as I tried to sort out my feelings about him and what had just happened, as well as what would happen the next day.

I had never been with anyone like Ashok before, someone who looked to me to be the leader.  Consciously or not, I seemed to have always gravitated towards men who preferred to take the lead themselves, a lead which I was all too happy to follow.  The only deviation from that, other than my brief youthful experimentation with Greg, was Jasper, and even he did not look to me to be a leader, but rather an equal.  I'd never questioned or spent a lot of time analyzing my preferences before.  Now, however, I felt Ashok had tapped into a part of me that had previously lain dormant, and was now finally ready to emerge.  I liked the way he looked up to me, both figuratively and literally, with those deep, admiring eyes.  I liked feeling needed and being his protector.  I liked knowing that he was trying to please me and make me happy, as well as knowing that the things I did seemed to please and make him happy too.  With a start I realized that he was doing for me what I had always tried to do for H., only H. had never given me the things I craved in return.  He certainly never made me feel safe and protected, just the opposite.  With H., I never knew when I would next become an inconvenience to be ignored or discarded.  And while H. occasionally took the time to do things that made me happy, they were few and far between, and as often as not designed to bring him a heightened sense of satisfaction. I had to wonder what it was about being with him that was so deeply rooted within me it was almost impossible to excise from my life?

I felt Ashok shift against me and looked down at the top of the head that was buried in the space bordered by my chest, arm and armpit. It would be profoundly unfair to let him grow the kind of attachment to me that I had to H.  It would be far better to steer him towards others, so that he could find a partner who would value and treasure him with no other allegiances.  The thought of losing him, however, was extremely disturbing, and made me clutch at him even tighter than I had before.

"I like it when you hold me like this," he commented, offering absolutely no resistance to my more constricting embrace. "I like feeling you want us to be so close."

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"  I asked with concern, relaxing my hold a little.

"No," he shook his head. "Do not stop."

I flexed my arm again to pull him closer, enjoying his quiet sigh. For a while everything was silent and my mind was perfectly clear.  I looked around the room and then back at him.  His face was now upturned towards mine.

"Happy?" I asked, though I could tell that he was.

"Yes." he confirmed. His eyes unfocused and I could almost feel him thinking, remembering. "Tonight was new, special," he remarked.

"Special?  How so?" I couldn't help my curiosity.

"The things you did with your fingers and your tongue, back there!" he explained with a trace of surprise and disbelief.

I frowned.  Surely if he and Pankaj had been lovers, this couldn't have been the first time anyone had ever played with his arse.

"Didn't Pankaj ever do anything like that?"  

"A little, before sex, to make it easier for me," he said matter-of-factly, "but only with his finger, to put on some oil. It did not feel nearly as..." he paused, suddenly looking contrite and ashamed. "It was not the same," he concluded quickly and looked away.

"Hey, it's OK.  You've never been with anyone other than Pankaj, so you'll have to take my word, but everyone is different in bed.  You and Pankaj loved each other and he made you feel good, right?" 

"Yes, he did!" he said emphatically.  

"That's all that matters, then.  Not what he did or didn't do," I tried to soothe him. I didn't like that I made him feel he was somehow betraying his dead lover's memory. "I imagine where you two grew up there weren't a lot of guys like us to show him the myriad of different ways a man has to make another man feel good.  It wasn't his fault."

"He did make me feel good.  Always!" Ashok insisted. "He always took care of me, either during or after.  He was very sweet and loving.  I loved him and I loved being with him.  It is only that you... t's as if you can do magic. Your tongue... And what you did with your fingers... There was a spot..."

"It's not magic, Ashy, it's experience.  You can do the same to me.  In fact, I dare say you already started tonight, when you found the spot inside me.  That spot is called the prostate, and you now know just how good it feels when it's stimulated from the inside.  You've probably felt it before, when you and Pankaj made love.  You just didn't know what it was."   

"I did feel it, sometimes, but never as much as tonight," he admitted. "You made me feel so good," he pressed himself to me and I could feel him growing harder at the recollection.  He was so sweet and he had so much yet to learn.  And I very much wanted to be the one to teach him.  Only despite everything, I didn't know if I would be able to do it if it meant having to give up H. Unless, of course, H. hadn't been serious about changing when we spoke about it on my return from Dubai, because giving up the H. who'd stopped giving a damn about me and my feelings for someone who seemed to care as much as Ashok did wouldn't be a sacrifice at all.  Or at least it shouldn't be, for anyone with an ounce of sense in their heads.  The only question was, where it came to H., did I have any sense left at all?  It was a question I wouldn't be able to answer until I saw him, so I decided to stop pondering and shift my focus back to the boy in my arms.

"You made me feel good too, Ashy. Very, very good," I said and kissed his forehead and lips. 

"I like when you call me Ashy," he said softly. "No one has ever called me that before.  It is special."

"It's as special as you are," I agreed.  

We talked for a while longer, until we drifted off, never once referring to my meeting with H. the next day.  In the morning we tried to act as though it was a normal day, getting ready and having breakfast as we always did. The only evidence that it wasn't a normal day, other than our slightly more nervous dispositions, was Ashok's simple question: "What time should I prepare dinner tonight?" Knowing what time I usually came home after work, he wouldn't have had to ask me on a normal day.

"I should be back at the regular time," I said, guilt constricting my throat. 

"I hope this afternoon is everything you wish," he told me and he was absolutely sincere.  I didn't answer.  Instead, I pulled him into a hug, in part so I could hold him and in part to hide my face, which undoubtedly reflected my conflicted emotions.  At that moment, I was thoroughly unable to articulate what exactly I wanted to happen.

We walked to the Tube together and boarded the Circle line train.  I hugged him again and kissed his forehead right before he got off the train at Victoria. Neither of us knew what the day would bring or how it would end, and I was certain both of us hoped it wasn't the last time we'd be able to show each other this kind of affection. 

I would have been a nervous wreck all morning, had it not been for an important and urgent project that I had to get done before I left for the day.  Not wanting to have to cancel on H. again, or even be late for our meeting, I directed all my focus towards my work and managed to put on the final touches a couple minutes after the time I was due to leave. I walked that much quicker to the Tube, got lucky with the train and transfers, and actually made it to Grimmauld house a few minutes ahead of schedule.  Along the way, I finally had time to agonize about how this meeting would go and what I wanted to say.  I knew no matter what I said, though, H. would be livid, but I hoped if I prefaced the confession with a heartfelt explanation of just how neglected and marginalized I'd felt lately, he'd be more likely to understand.  Assuming he even listened to the explanation.  These days the only way I seemed to be able to get his attention was when I threatened something dramatic or had him naked.  I didn't want to add any more drama to this afternoon than it would undoubtedly already hold, and getting him naked first seemed too underhanded. Or was it?  After a month of not seeing each other he had to be desperate for it, much more desperate than I was, given my affair with Ashok. Would it be so wrong to let him satisfy his urge first, while at the same time reminding me how good things could be between us?  Would that make him more likely to break it off with me afterwards?  And if so, would it be worth it anyway, to have this last reminder before I lost him forever? 

I decided the positives outweighed the negatives, and when I arrived at the house I took two stairs at a time to pocket a couple of condoms and grab a bottle of lube before returning downstairs to wait for him in the drawing room. I sat on the sofa with my eyes closed, imagining the moment he came through the door and we let our burning passion for each other consume us.  I let my imagination run wild, taking me through the entire act until I was hard and leaking with anticipation before I looked at my watch.  He was late, by twenty minutes so far.  I pulled out my mobile, but there were no calls or texts that I'd missed. I huffed in aggravation. I knew he had probably been delayed at work and was already on his way.  I wasn't as much pissed at him as at the circumstances, which made him paranoid to the point that he hesitated to call or text when he was running late.  It was a small discourtesy, but when every minute of our time together counted, the delay combined with the lack of notice stung more than it should.

Forty minutes later, my annoyance had turned to worry.  I stared at my silent phone, my mind running through morbid scenarios. I imagined the worst: an accident while he was crossing the street, perhaps, forgetting to check traffic in his rush to get to the Tube. I saw his body, broken and bleeding in the street before being placed on a stretcher and carted off to hospital for emergency surgery.  No one would think to call me, of course, and I'd be sitting there, ignorant, while the love of my life lay on the operating table fighting for his life.  When would I find out what happened?  Would Ginny allow the news to be released to the public?  I might not hear for days. I wanted to run upstairs and turn on the telly to see if there was any news, but I knew these kinds of things were not exactly breaking stories, especially while no one knew the identity of the victim.  I used my phone to scan Internet news sites, but there was no mention of any London road accidents there either, but I knew there wouldn't be.  Not unless the accident caused some traffic snarl up.  That, after all, was the only news the average Londoner was interested in, the selfish fucks!

Frantic, I spent the next three hours alternating between pacing the room and sitting helplessly on the sofa.  I considered ringing him, but if he truly had been in an accident he wouldn't answer anyway, and what would I have said if a stranger answered the call? Finally, with only thirty minutes left before we would have normally left, I decided I'd had enough.  Waiting in that house a minute longer was going to drive me insane.  I decided to go home to eat dinner and figure out what to do next.  If there was still no news by the evening, I would come up with some pretext to ring him.

It had been hours since I considered the possibility that nothing at all had happened and that he was simply an inconsiderate bastard who'd neglected to tell me he was running hours behind, so it was a shock to see him walking towards me from a few houses away.  His briefcase hung off his shoulder and his necktie was loose, the way it usually was when he arrived.  He looked damn sexy, especially when he saw me and gave me a friendly wave, but I felt nothing of the usual longing that look inspired. Instead, I was overcome with fury, especially as he reached me and calmly reached around me to unlock the front door that I'd just finished locking, motioning me inside.   

"I'm not going in there, H.," I said belligerently.  "I've spent the entire bloody afternoon waiting in there for you.  That's what my life has turned into: a constant vigil, waiting for you to grace me with your presence."  

"For fuck's sake, not out here!" he hissed. "Get inside where we can talk in private."

I looked around.  There was absolutely no one out as far as I could see, but of course he was so paranoid he was convinced the neighbors were spying from behind their curtains.  I stood in place, debating what I should do.  

"We're both here, Rick, and I've a half hour left before I have to go home.  What would be the point of you leaving now?" he challenged.  My shoulders slumped. I could, of course, leave on principle, but what would that get me in the end?  Resigned, I walked into the house and closed the door behind me, only to feel him grab and turn me to smash his mouth over mine.  Any other day the kiss would have been so welcome, but after what happened, my anger wouldn't let me enjoy it.  I turned my head, wedging my hands between us to push him away.

"What the fuck, H.?  I've been waiting for you all afternoon.  Where the hell have you been?"

"I've been at work. Where the fuck does it look like I've been?" He replied angrily, pointing to his attire.  "I got caught up. You know how it is."

"No," I started to protest before remembering my cancellation the previous week. "I mean, yes, of course I know how it can be sometimes, but when I got caught up at work I bloody let you know, didn't I?  Precisely so you wouldn't have to spend the entire afternoon sitting here, imagining the worst."

"Is that why you're so upset, sweetheart?  I'm here and I'm fine," he cajoled, caressing the side of my face.  I slapped his hand away angrily, the endearment hitting a sour note.

"You're here all right, fingers, eyes and tongue intact, so why the fuck couldn't you call or text to let me know you'd be late?"

"I was in a client meeting.  I couldn't get away."

"Bullshit! You mean to tell me you couldn't make an excuse?  In all the hours since noon you couldn't take a piss break? Goddammit, H., today was important to me.  I wish it was important to you too."    

"It is important to me.  I'm here, aren't I?  Would I have come for thirty measly minutes if it wasn't important?  Now come on, let's not row." He pushed his body against me, pressing me against the door as he pawed at my crotch. "We only have a little while and I want you so fucking much.  Where do you want me?  In your mouth or in your arse?  We'll do whatever you want!" 

For the first time since I could remember, his words and touch had absolutely no effect.  I remained soft and my stomach churned at his suggestion. He, however, seemed oblivious to my complete lack of interest. 

"Feel how hard I am for you, love," he said, moving my hand over his erection. "Want me to feed you some cream?"

"You've got a nerve," I objected, pushing him away so forcefully that he had to grab on to the antique coat tree to stop from falling backward.  He stared at me, mouth hanging open in shock.  I was a little shocked myself, but I wasn't about to let him see it.  "I'm not some cheap fucking rent boy, here at your beck and call, waiting to see how I can please his lordship today. When I came back from Dubai you promised things would change, but that was just more lies and platitudes, wasn't it?  You never intended to change anything. We haven't seen each other in a month, and all you can think about is where you want to stuff your cock.  You don't give a damn what I've been doing and how I've been feeling."

"Hang on.  I want to make love to you after all this time apart.  Is that so wrong?" he challenged.  "I'm not about to apologize for that. I need you, Ced!"

"Oh, was it lovemaking you wanted?  Forgive me, but all I heard was a question about which hole I'd like filled. I have needs too, but they go beyond fucking. I need to be held and I need to feel loved, not used.  Today, I needed to talk to you about things that are important to me, like us, and what our relationship will be like going forward. If all you need is a receptacle for your cum, why don't you take that proposition to your wife?  She can offer you more variety."

I turned, pulled open the door, and rushed down the stairs, slamming the door behind me.  It immediately opened again. "Rick, come back. You can't just keep storming off like this. I'm not running after you anymore."

"Is that a promise?" I yelled over my shoulder, never breaking stride, "or am I going to find you on my doorstep next week, telling me again how things are going to change?" 

I didn't hear a response, nor did I expect one.  I was sure he was absolutely horrified that I'd said as much as I did out in public.  He probably didn't even hear the last of it, hiding behind the closed door of his house, hoping none of his neighbors were home to hear any of my shouting.  I just didn't give a damn. As far as I knew, no one living on Grimmauld Square knew or cared who H. was, but I suspected he would probably be too worried now to leave the house until well after I was gone, and even then he would take care to keep his head down to prevent anyone accidentally recognizing him.  I took peevish pleasure in knowing he would now keep his family waiting the same way he kept me waiting, and would probably have to deal with Ginny's wrath just as he'd had to deal with mine.

Of course, none of this, made a damn bit of difference to me. I felt stuck, though I had no clue if I was stuck in a bad relationship that I needed to end or trying to cling to something that had already long been over.  Once again H. promised he'd leave me alone, but he'd gone back on his word so many times I no longer paid it any mind. The truth was, if I wanted to be certain we were over, I would have to make and communicate that decision, and then stick to my guns as I'd never been able to before. That'll be the day! I could hear Dré's voice in my head.  And bugger if he wasn't right.