Burdens & Riding With The Wind Page 3
Adam waited until the waitress was out of earshot before leaning across the table and presenting a finger to Phin’s face. “I’m sending you to bed for the rest of the day when we get home. You’re behaving like a brat so I might as well treat you like one.”
“Suits me, love. Drinking on an afternoon always makes me sleepy and I intend to drink a bit more yet, so bed will be very welcome. I appreciate your consideration. Cheers!” Phin reached for his pint, but his hand closed around air as Adam got to it before him.
“You’re done drinking for today. In fact for the next week.” Adam poured the beer into the pot of the unidentified plant decorating their alcove.
“You do realise you’ve just vandalised an artificial plant don’t you?”
“Shut up, Phineas.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I don’t want to talk to you anyway. I didn’t ask you to come with me. I wanted to lunch on my own in peace, without being nagged, and I want my fucking bike keys back you arrogant bastard.”
“When we get home...”
“I know. You’re going to send me to bed. You’ve already said. Repetition is a sign of mental deterioration. Perhaps you ought to see a doctor. Ask him to grope your tits while you’re on, see how you like it.”
“Sometimes.” Adam stabbed his fork into a roast potato. “I’m afraid to answer the front door at home in case it’s the police come to arrest me for paedophilia.”
“Adam, if you want to call me childish then come right out and say it. There’s no need to be coy and go all round the houses.”
“Enough, Phineas. Do you understand me?”
The look accompanying the quietly spoken words made Phin’s stomach clench. He’d pushed far enough. He wisely turned his attentions to his food.
The pretty blonde waitress beamed a bright smile as she gathered their empty plates. “Everything okay, gents?”
“Lovely, thank you,” they chorused in true English fashion, even though Adam’s pork had turned out to be turkey and the lamb to be beef and both to be tough.
“Would you like a dessert, tea, coffee? We’ve got some gorgeous coffee cake, or chocolate fudge.”
Phin reached for the dessert menu propped between the salt and pepper pots, but didn’t get a chance to open it.
“We’re fine thank you.” Adam politely declined the waitress’s tempting invitation.
“I wanted coffee and a pudding.” Phin glared across the table as the waitress departed.
“I’ll make you coffee when we get home.” Adam stood up unhooking his jacket from the back of the chair. “If you’re very good I’ll let you have a biscuit with it.”
Picking up and putting on the leather cowboy hat that had been a favourite Christmas gift from Adam, Phin snarled, “I thought you were flexing your head of domicile muscles and sending me to bed when we got home?”
“You can have coffee before you go to bed.”
“Gee, you’re all heart.”
Phin slapped a handful of loose change on the table as a tip for the waitress. Snatching his leather jacket from the spare chair he strode towards the exit and out onto the street. Adam had to work hard to keep pace. Powered by angry resentment Phin’s extra inch in height made all the difference to his stride.
He caught his arm as soon as they got home and indoors, preventing him from going upstairs. “You have no right to be this angry. No right at all, not about anything. If you won’t see to your own safety then I’ll see to it for you. You need the lump checking out, and as for last night, what I saw on the television. You can’t seriously have imagined I’d let it pass?”
“I accept I deserved a walloping for my behaviour. I should never have tried to conceal things from you. I was a first class prick. I even accept you confiscating my bike keys for a while, but the trials, Adam, please.” Phin cupped a hand to his partner’s face, pleading. “Let me do the speed trials?”
“No.”
“I’ll go to the doctor and let him feel me up.”
“You’ll go anyway, and the answer is still no.”
“Fucks SAKE!” Phin turned away from Adam, quelling an urge to deck him. He slammed his hands against the wall instead. “Can’t you take a fucking Dom’s day off, just this once? You know how much these trials mean to me.”
“Yes.” Adam grasped Phin’s arm, roughly jerking him around to face him. “I do know how much they mean and that’s exactly why I’m not allowing you to do them. All else is mere inconvenience and annoyance to you, having to rely on me, or a taxi or bus to get you to and from work, but those trials matter, they really matter and not letting you do them is the best way I can think of to get my point across. I’m not going to stand idly by while you write off your life. If anything happens to you, it’s not just your life that’s lost. It’s mine. So don’t ask me again. Tell your mates you can’t sit on a bike because your arse is too sore. Show them the marks as proof. If you want I’ll use my belt to add a few more for authenticity. Tell them anything, but resign yourself to being out of the trials.”
Phin took off his hat kneading the brim with his fingers. “What if I say no? What if I refuse to cooperate with your decision on this?”
Adam spoke without hesitation. “You won’t refuse, because to do so would be to question the basis of our relationship and my authority within it. I know you love and respect me enough, along with what we have together, not to want to do that. You also know there would be repercussions you’d like even less than the present situation. I can and I will make life very hard for you.”
“I love you, Adam, I do, but there are times when I could cheerfully punch your fucking teeth out.”
“I’m sure.” Adam briskly slapped Phin’s bottom, making him yelp. “Stop bellyaching or I’ll spank you properly. Do you still want coffee?”
Phin nodded.
“Then let’s go get some.”
They drank strong coffee in the kitchen, polishing off a packet of plain chocolate digestives between them in the process. Phin then rose taking the empty mugs across to the sink to rinse, handing them to Adam to dry and hang back on the mug stand. He dried his hands on the sides of his jeans. “Do you really think I’ve got breast cancer?” His voice wavered.
“No.” Adam wrapped both arms about Phin’s waist, pulling him into a hug. “You still need to know what’s causing the lump. Most lumps have nothing to do with cancer, but they need investigating. It’s probably a cyst of some kind.”
“I’ll make the appointment first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you. Now give me a kiss, you sexy man, and that’s an order.”
“Yes, sir.” Phin slipped his arms around Adam’s neck and kissed him enjoying the scent and taste of coffee and chocolate, which still lingered on his breath. He broke the kiss. “You mentioned sending me to bed earlier, is that still on?”
“Oh yeah.” Adam rolled the palms of his hands over Phin’s buttocks then brought his right hand round to cup and knead his balls through his jeans. “You’re going to bed all right.”
Phin gave a seductive purr, fluttering his lush lashes, “because I’m a bad, bad boy?”
“I certainly do hope so, darling. Bad and dirty.” Adam reached for the zip on Phin’s jeans, while Phin’s hands gripped the hem of his t-shirt.
The shrill ringing of the telephone in the kitchen interrupted their passionate struggle to be the first to fully undress the other.
“Leave it.” Phin bit a kiss onto Adam’s bare shoulder. “I want you.”
“I’d better get it. It might be the hospital.” Adam re-zipped his jeans. “I’m sure your lust can hold out for a minute or two.”
He answered the phone. “Hello…yes, speaking.”
Phin watched the colour drain from Adam’s face as he listened to a voice at the other end of the receiver. Something was wrong.
“Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Adam replaced the receiver in the cradle, staring at it
.
“Your dad,” asked Phin gently. “Has he taken a turn for the worse? I thought he was on the up?”
“Dead.” Whispered Adam. He rubbed his forehead. “He’s dead. They think he died in his sleep a short while ago. One of the nurses discovered him when she took his lunch in. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there for my dad in his last moments. He died all alone in a hospital room.”
“Not your fault, love. It’s not your fault.” Phin snatched up his top from the floor. He dragged it back on, and then picked up Adam’s, helping him into it before sitting down on a kitchen chair and pulling him onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tight around him. “You can’t foretell these things. You were with him yesterday afternoon. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. You phoned the hospital this morning. They told you he was fine. He was expected to live a while longer than this.”
“No one should die alone. I wanted to be there for him, Phin. I wanted him to know I was close by and that I loved him.”
Phin cuddled him harder. “I know you did, and your father knew it too.” Kisses begun in passion turned to kisses of comfort.
Two Weeks After The Funeral
Cancer. The word dropped into the room like a brick. Phin felt the world slip away from him. Cancer. The word reverberated around, pounding inside his brain. He had breast cancer. Of all the other words spoken by the Consultant, only one more penetrated the wall of shock in his mind, rare, serving to make the first seem even more terrifying.
The funeral of Adam’s father came back to his mind. He could smell the sickly scent of the flowers and feel the taut emotions. He remembered the hard press of an oak coffin on his shoulders, as he shared the rituals of death with the man he adored above all others. Thoughts whirled around in his skull. Who would help Adam bear him shoulder high he wondered, who would help him grieve and give him comfort? He experienced a surreal crazy moment of jealously because Adam would surely find a new lover in time. He hated the thought of him being with another man.
Cancer. The word caused Adam’s heart to pound with sick dismay. He watched the colour drain from Phin’s face, watched him slip into a dimension of shock and fear. His strength asserted itself ahead of his own grief. He began to ask questions and gather information, feeling the burden of terror lighten as he listened to the Consultant’s answers.
The walk back to the hospital car park was silent, as was the drive home, each of them busy with their own thoughts.
Phin was first out of the car and first into the house and would have been first back out again if he hadn’t slammed into Adam.
“Give me those bike keys, Phin.” Adam threw the front door closed and held out his hand. “You had no business getting them out of my desk drawer.”
“I’m going out for a ride.”
“You’re not going anywhere, certainly not in this mood. We need to talk.”
“What’s to talk about? I’m going to die. I might as well go out in style.”
“Keys.” Adam snapped his fingers impatiently. “Hand them over now. I won’t tell you again.”
“No. I’m going out on my bike. I mean it, Adam. Don’t get in my way.”
“I’m already in your way. If you want to go out you’ll have to go through me.”
“Fair enough.” Phin made a move, trying to shove Adam aside so he could open the door.
The struggle was brief, but intense, leaving the table in the hall overturned on the floor amid a heap of plant compost. Adam won. Twisting Phin’s left arm up behind his back he marched him into the living room and forced him over the back of the leather sofa.
No words were spoken. Harsh slaps and hard grunts made up for conversation, as Adam put all his energy into walloping sense into Phin via his backside and Phin put all his energy into resisting, even though he knew the only way of stopping the spanking was to submit to it.
Phin’s grunts gave way to louder more frantic cries as his buttocks flamed beneath their covering of denim. The pain became unbearable. He gave in, dissolving into tears.
“I should have bared your stubborn arse.” Adam heaved Phin upright, sticking the palm of his right hand under his nose. “Look at that. I’ve got a blood blister thanks to spanking you over your jeans.”
“Good.” Phin wiped his snotty nose with his shirtsleeve. “You deserve it, you twat. I hope it infects. This is all your fault. I didn’t want to see a doctor in the first fucking place.”
“Not seeing the doctor wouldn’t have made things any different.” Adam picked up the set of bike keys from the sofa cushion and pocketed them. “It would have made them worse. Not knowing doesn’t stop the disease progressing. Aw, baby.” He opened his arms as Phin reached for him with fresh tears streaming down his face.
“I’m scared, Adam. I don’t want to die.”
Adam sat down on the sofa pulling Phin onto his lap and cuddling him until the tears abated. “Let’s get one thing straight. You are not going to die. I forbid it.” He tenderly stroked the tear washed face. “You’re the man I want to grow old with.”
“It isn’t going to happen. I’ve got a rare form of cancer, didn’t you hear the Consultant?”
“Yes, I heard, and better than you obviously did. The form of cancer you have is rare in men because it’s of a type almost always curable, particularly when caught at an early stage, like yours.”
“Really?” A light of hope sprang to Phin’s frightened blue eyes. “I was in shock. I don’t think I heard much after the word cancer. It’s all a blur. Tell me.”
“The prognosis is excellent. The only treatment you’re likely to need is surgery, but that will be confirmed once they’ve removed the tumour and some lymph nodes from under your arm. They want to make sure it’s as contained as they think it is.”
Still cold with shock Phin huddled as close as he could to Adam, seeking warmth from his body. “Now I know exactly how my poor aunt Nina must have felt when they told her she had breast cancer.”
“And look at her. She’s fine now. She got through it and so will you.”
“What if surgery isn’t enough? What if it isn’t contained, Adam, what then?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Adam kissed him gently on the lips, “and we’ll cross it together.”
“I’m scared, Adam. I’m so scared.”
“Of course you are, love. Who wouldn’t be? We’re going to get through this. I promise.”
***
The flowers were numerous and beautiful. Their fragrance hung in the air like a promise of long summer evenings in the garden.
“You must have bought the entire florists.” Phin stared in wonder around the flower-bedecked living room.
“I wanted everything to be nice for you. Besides, they’re not all from me. Some are from Nina and Avril and some are from your workmates. I told them to send them here instead of the hospital because they’d last longer and you’d get to appreciate them more.”
“What about the lads at the track, didn’t they send anything? The tight bastards.”
Adam solemnly pointed out a carnation and beer bottle arrangement in a bike tyre.
“Classy.” Phin grinned.
Adam steered him towards the sofa. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.”
“I was only in two nights and you visited.”
“Felt like years to me and visiting is no compensation for having you beside me in bed. I hate sleeping alone. Sit down.”
“Adam, I...”
“Sit. You need to take things easy. You’ve had an operation.”
Phin sat. It was no use arguing when Adam was set on something, and anyway it was nice to be bossed about again. Comforting. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, more tired than he wanted to admit. To his dismay tears crept down his cheeks.
“Stressful times we’ve had lately.” Adam sat beside Phin, gently wiping his tears away with his thumbs, “but thank God you’re okay. Everything is clear.”
Phin opened his
eyes. Reaching for Adam’s hand he held it tight. “Thank you, Ad, for helping me through this. I think I’d have gone under without you.”
“You have more strength than you give yourself credit for. You’d have managed on your own. The point is you didn’t have to. Burdens are for sharing, Phin. That’s what relationships are about. Being there for each other. I’ll always be here for you, just as you are for me. I love you.”
“Even when I drive you nuts by doing something dumbass?”
“Especially then.” Adam smiled. Taking Phin in his arms he kissed him.
Riding With The Wind
Phin makes an error of judgment that has serious repercussions. Adam has to decide if discipline is warranted under the circumstances. The story is told in titled sections.
Like the previous story this was also published separately and as part of the anthology ‘The Corridor and Other Stories.’ The latter is no longer available.
1. Reckless Fruit
Nutritionists claimed fruit to be good for you. Sitting in a police station on an uncomfortable plastic chair Phineas was prepared to call the entire concept into question. It hadn’t proven good for him, nor had it proven good for the other person involved in the incident leading him to be sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the police station. He gazed around the grim interior of the interview room, his guts churning with sick nerves. He never thought he’d be in this position again.
He wouldn’t have minded so much, but the fruit in question, an orange, wasn’t even his. A person unknown had left it on the driver’s seat of the car he had been driving. He hadn’t noticed it when he got into the car. He was in too much of a state. Its presence had dawned on him gradually as the journey progressed, becoming a growing discomfort in the region of his lower back. On discovering the source of his coccyx pain his simmering temper had boiled over.
Phin groaned. Leaning forwards over the desk he pressed trembling hands to his face. On reflection it would have been healthier and wiser to eat the bloody orange rather than doing what he did with it. Cold sweat trickled down his back as the incident replayed in his mind. “Fucking idiot.” He cursed himself aloud. “You fucking, fucking idiot. Moron. Cretin. Wanker.” He sat up straight, folding his arms, taking deep breaths in an effort to ward off nausea.