Date: Mon, 31 Oct 2005 23:03:26 +0100
From: tsunami@london.com
Subject: The Nurse, Part1

The Nurse, by mattbuck
Part 1

All comments are appreciated - email tsunami@london.com

Other stories I've written can be found on my website, in the fiction
section http://mattbuck.sixwinter.com


Usual disclaiming sort of stuff, I don't know McFly, I don't know their
sexualities, this story is not in any way based on real life events. Oh,
and it contains gay sex, so please make sure you're 18.


      Freshers' Flu: The name commonly given to illnesses contracted during
the first few weeks at University. It is common at most institutions due to
the number of people arriving from all over the world, each bringing their
own diseases. Mostly, the infection is fairly minor. Or at least that's the
definition I submitted to Wikipedia. It sucks, and is usually stronger than
a standard cold. My dad reckons it's because you get two in a row, I just
reckon you get the nastiest. Either way, the last week or so of my life has
involved more tissues and cough mixture than any I can remember in my
life. Slowly getting better since the weekend, which was a good thing,
since I had to be at least... somewhat well for Wednesday. Deride my music
taste, call me gay (ooh, close), but I was excited. I bought the ticket out
of sheer boredom one night during the summer, which probably goes to show I
shouldn't keep my bank card by my computer. Wait... I didn't leave it by my
computer. So much for that idea to stop excessive spending. But I like cool
things... I saw a rather cool kids toy in Oxfam today and had to buy
it. It's rather sad for a nineteen year old, I know, but it's a little
wooden snail with four spherical wheels and a patterned spherical shell
sits on top, and it turns because it touches the wheels. It's rather cool
to look at.
      I digress, heck, I haven't even told you why I needed to be well for
Wednesday. Unfortunately not my boyfriend coming to visit, more me going to
visit the guy who in my dreams was the sexiest thing since... I don't quite
know. Sliced bread isn't at all sexy, so I can't say that... since
whenever. Meh, it works. Stream of consciousness writing is never
smooth. Visit's probably the wrong word... see is better, and rather apt
really, considering. I wanted to meet him, but... is it stupid to not want
to to save him getting this fucking flu? Every cough feels like my liver is
coming up my throat, or that my brain is being kicked around in some
demented roller-disco.
      So much for telling you why I needed to be well. I was going to see
McFly's final gig of their '05 tour at the Nottingham Arena. Now, I'm a
Nottingham resident, or rather, I live at Nottingham University during term
time. Which means either walk halfway across the city in the pouring rain
(I ran it in about thirty minutes once with a suitcase when I missed my bus
to the train station) or a taxi ride. I chose the latter.  $8.20 - fucking
extortionate. I actually got to see their pricing scheme though. $1.60, add
20p for each 183 metres up to but not including 1464 metres, 20p per 254
metres thereafter. Or something. It takes $2 just to get off the
campus. Queue to get in, and of course the drink of Tango is $1.90... and
you don't have that extra 10p. There's a queue at the front merchandise
shops, and the security guards won't let you off the tiered seating to go
to that one at the back of the pit that has no queue whatsoever.
Bastards. Still, I bought myself a poster, a scarf and the official tour
programme so I had something to read waiting for the gig to start. Serves
me right for arriving when doors open. Still, I was a lot closer to the
stage than I expected. The other problems with arriving early are that
almost everyone has to go past you to get to their seats, and that after a
while you realise that exactly the same adverts will be played, and that
each time that second commercial comes on (which started "Make... Some...
Noise!") that all the teenies will actually do it.
      Is it any wonder I want to cull everyone between the ages of nought
and sixteen?
      Everyone's heard what happened at the gig by now - how Danny, Dougie
and Harry appeared in boxers on top of Tom's piano for She Falls Asleep,
and were suddenly assaulted by a guy who started kissing Danny, and was
pulled into a massive on-stage orgy... or just the bit about appearing on
the piano. Dreams are too much fun. I know I was pissed at the teenies for
cheering at the start of the song - it's an incredibly sad song, and
they're cheering like it's fucking We Will Rock You. As for Danny and
co... that was just war in my head between "bastards, THE SONG!" and "oh
god they are so fucking hot". Go go base instincts.
      I know I got rather hyper during it all - singing songs as if they
were about Danny not some random girl, and for the last song I was standing
on my seat dancing.  Proof that you don't need to have touched a drop of
alcohol in the past week to be drunk. Now, by Wednesday I'd mostly got over
it, but I still had (and still do, unfortunately) a bad cough that just
gets worse as time goes by. By the end of the gig, I wasn't exactly in
great shape, but I was still fucking loving it. Still wanted more.  About
to get more. When my tickets arrived in the post there was a letter in it
saying that my seat had been randomly drawn to meet McFly. One of ten
apparently. I bet there was a lot of activity on ebay for the
others. Anyway, come the end of the gig, I headed towards the backstage
area, clutching my little bag of goodies and the letter in my pocket. Past
the security guards, one of whom I swear I saw doing work as a bouncer at
the students' union bar one night. There were about six people milling
about in a room that had some plates of biscuits out and a coffee urn,
presumably waiting for McFly. I looked to be the only guy there. Three were
obviously teenies, complete with flashing bunny ears (my mind was already
preparing for the inevitable OHMIGAWD screeches), another a fairly demure
blonde clutching the neck of (presumably) Dougie's bass, a fifth obviously
a mother who had gone in with promises to get autographs for a child, and a
sixth another black-suited security guard standing ominously near the
bourbons as if daring someone to try and take one.
      Unfair, he was probably a nice guy. He just looked scary.
      He probably had a "mum" tatoo somewhere.
      Two more teenies appeared behind me and I ended up having a coughing
fit. I grabbed a styrofoam cup filled with something resembling coffe and
downed some to try and settle my throat, burning most of my tastebuds on
the way. Not a hope of it working. I kind of wished I had a yellow t-shirt
with "CONTAGIOUS" written on it in big letters. If nothing else it would be
kind of cool. As it was I just had a white shirt with a random brown line
down the middle for no good reason. Black trousers, with some mud around
the bottom from walking across muddy fields on my way to lectures. Washing
them is too much effort to do daily, or even regularly. I'm a student, I'm
allowed to be lazy.
      A few minutes passed, no one else turned up. I considered leaving for
a few minutes so I could find a basin to try and cough into, but the double
doors at the far end of the room finally opened. The ohmigawd was
instantaneous and more ear- piercing than I'd figured - I actually winced
in pain. I was thankful that it changed fairly quick to a mindless babble
at a frequency that wasn't going to make my ears bleed, though I swear even
those few seconds came close. Wonder if that noise- cancelling technology
can be changed to just cancel out all high-pitched noises. If so, you have
to wonder if popstars would buy them. I know I would. I coughed again, and
took another sip of coffee. I hadn't dared the guard for a
bourbon. Bourbons were remarkably hard to get for a while - apparently the
bourbon factory burnt down. THE bourbon factory... you'd really think
there'd be more than one of them. Maybe that was why he was guarding them -
he didn't know it had been rebuilt.
      Or maybe he was just there for McFly. Who knows. They'd changed out
of the clothes they'd been wearing for the gig, and looked as if they'd at
least tried to dry themselves of sweat. I moved forward, leaning against a
table while the teenies mobbed them. Even from here I could smell a
strangely enticing mix of sweat and deodorant. It made me want to
cough. Why did I not bring fucking strepsils...
      Danny somehow managed to extricate himself from the teenies. I guess
they were Dougie and Harry lovers... no one ever seemed to love
Tom... except one or two people who were too old to be teenies (here's to
you guys). He started coming over to me, pausing to grab bourbons. He
stank, and he said hi to me round a mouth full of biscuit.
      I melted.
      Into a fit of coughing.
      Fuck.
      "Are you alright?" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
      "Just a bad cold, I'll be ok." Bad pun (unintenional). He didn't
notice. "I'm Matt. It's probably best if you don't shake my hand."
      He smiled, "This your first gig?"
      "First McFly gig - I saw Interpol at Christmas at the Bristol
Academy, and unless you count folk concerts my parents took me to... that's
it."
      "You from Bristol then?"
      I coughed again. "Yeah. By the way, tonight was brilliant, thankyou."
      "Don't thank someone for doing something they enjoy, besides, I
should be thanking you for coming. Only you or is there a little sister
waiting out there?"
      "Take your own advice, mate. And no, I came alone. A little sister
would just annoy me... seriously, how do you cope with teenie screams on a
daily basis?"
      "Ehy, you get used to it." I broke down into another coughing
fit. "You really sure you're alright mate?"
      "I'll get over it, really."
      "OK, well I'd better go talk to some other people, I'll be back." He
smiled at me again - so unlike my own smile. His smiles were full-on
teeth-baring. Mine were just slight grins usually. I drank my coffee. God
he was gorgeous... and now I'd seen him topless... oh yes please.
      Ten minutes passed, I got to speak to Harry and Dougie, but couldn't
get near Tom. The guard coughed. Not my cough I hoped. No, it wasn't.
      "Well, thanks for coming everyone, sorry we can't stay longer, been
great meeting you all." Tom. Bah. I'd wanted to meet him. I coughed
again. Danny appeared at my elbow.
      "Come on, let's go."
      "Uh... me? Where?"
      "You're coming back to the hotel. You'll get even sicker waiting for
the train in this weather. Besides, they don't run this late."
      I tried to protest. "Seriously, I'm fine. And I don't have far to
go."
      "You won't be able to get back tonight anyway. Come on, are you
seriously going to turn me down?"
      I coughed again. He just grabbed my arm and frogmarched me through
the doors following Tom, Dougie and Harry. The guard neatly stepped in
behind us, closing the doors, leaving the bourbons unguarded. I could still
feel the jealous glares of the teenies even through the plywood. The others
were dawdling at the end of the corridor.
      "Hey Danny... why?" Tom asked.
      "I'm not leaving someone who's clearly ill out on a cold night
several hundred miles from home."
      "Look" I said, "I tried to tell you, I don't live..."
      "Hey, wait... Tom, stand by him a moment." I stood silent as Danny
moved a few strands of my hair and stood back.
      "Whoa... you're kind of a brown-haired, less-shaved Tom."
      "What?"
      "You've even got the cheek dimple! You can't play guitar can you?"
      "Never really tried, but I doubt it..."
      "Shame. We could take you instead next tour, and I wouldn't have to
lose at FIFA all the time." He grinned widely as Tom started complaining
about how Danny had beaten him last week. I just had another cough attack.
      I hate football games anyway. Bet I could whip his ass at Goldeneye
though.  Old, but still brilliant.
      I was led to a cab which took us back to their hotel. I gave up
trying to tell Danny that I lived in Nottingham, it was just
pointless. Counter-productive too.  Amazing no teenies managed to see us on
the way there, or in the foyer. We got into a lift and took it up to the
sixth floor.
      "You still coming out tonight Dan?" Dougie said.
      "Yeah, meet you in the entrance in... forty minutes?"
      "I'll be in the bar."
      "Oh, okay."
      I tried to avoid coughing. Finally the doors open, Danny led me
right, the others going left.
      "Hey, wait, Tom." I said. "Tes asked me to tell you she loves you."
      "Tes?"
      "Dutch girl," I shrugged.
      "Ah. Right."
      I followed Danny, occasionally coughing, right down to the end of the
corridor, waiting for him to find his room's swipe card.
      "So how come you're at the far end from them?"
      "They say I smell." His eyes sparkled. "Some mix-up with the
reservation. It happens. In Birmingham they had Dougie on the first floor
and the rest of us on the fifteenth. We made him a friend out of balloons
so he wouldn't feel lonely."
      The door beeped and clicked, finally allowing us access. Palatial,
but decorated in that shade of cream that every hotel everywhere seems to
use. A bag stuffed with clothes was shoved in a corner and various shirts
lay strewn on the bed.  Is it wrong to wonder if any of those would fit me
and if they did what they'd smell like? I know there was some deodorant I
really really liked. One of my first crushes wore it - sometimes I could
tell when he was nearby just by the smell of it. I never found out what it
was though, and I never got to see him naked or anything, even to kiss
him... I loved him, or at least I thought I did. Now I don't really
know. I'm not sure now if I'd have him even if he asked... bah, water under
the bridge. Spilt milk.  All that crap. It's not about what's past but
what's the present, and making the future better. When I get rid of this
fucking cough things will be better.
      A towel landed in my arms.
      "You grab a shower first mate. There should be shampoo and stuff in
there.  Just be quick about it would ya? I don't share showers first time I
meet people."
      But sharing would be fun... his wet, naked body sliding against mine,
fingers teasing, testing... slipping in felt so good, coming out so odd, so
strange you'd think it would be opposite but it's not. Flesh quivers
against flesh under the thin coat of lather as lips meet at last, ushering
in a new sensation of belonging, of total acceptance and love. Union of two
bodies, two souls in the coitus of lust and...
      And coughing. Fuck it. I pushed the door to the bathroom shut behind
me and turned on the shower. There was a bewildering array of shampoos,
conditioners, anti- spot lotions, shower gels, soaps, moisturisers. I
wasn't sure which were his and which the hotel's. I read somewhere that he
was rather vain at times, but... surely that was just taking it to an
extreme.
      Which made the best lube I wondered. And had he tested them? Visions
of Dougie bending over came to me... He was pretty cute. Danny, Tom, Harry,
Dougie... Gorgeous, odd, suave and cute. Though I guess Dougie was pretty
odd too, just not physically. Anyone who wears a badge saying "sometimes I
wish I was a monkey so I could throw poop at people and it would be legal"
is just... well...
      "You done yet?"
      "Yeah, just towelling off." I yelled back in the general direction of
the door, turning off the shower. He knocked at the door, so I grabbed one
of the white bath robes hanging on the wall and quickly pulled it round
myself before letting him in. He had a towel wrapped around his waist but
that was it... At risk of sounding like that bitch from Little Britain, he
was gorgeous. I mean, sure I saw that at the gig, but that was from a
distance and on a screen... this was real...
      "Hey, room service should be up soon with some cough syrup and throat
sweets - follow the instructions on the packet. I don't want to have to do
CPR."
       I laughed, which promptly turned into another coughing fit.
      "Thankyou nurse."
      "Nurse eh... I hope my bum doesn't look too big in the uniform. Go
get into bed, I'll be done soon."
      I picked up my clothes and went back into the bedroom. I pulled on
the boxer shorts and moved his stuff off the big double bed. You certainly
got what you paid for at this place. A smart rap at the door announced room
service, and soon enough having taken my medicine, hopefully to the
contentment of my nurse with the sweet arse, was lying in bed in my
boxers. My throat was starting to feel a bit better, but I was still
coughing a lot. I wished I could watch Danny showering - however much of
him you saw naked for however long, it was never enough. Dreams of him
climbing into bed and screwing me senseless... of him singing to me, all
about us...
      Back through the door, still with just a towel, water dripping off
him so ridiculously sexily. I just stared as he bent and started digging
through his bag of clothes, the towel slipping slightly, nearly...
      "No staring, you've seen enough." How the hell did he know... eyes in
his arse? Or did he do this often... Or did he think all guys that went to
McFly gigs were gay? To be honest, he was probably right. Well, those that
weren't there to take children, though I guess you never knew. Don't get me
wrong, I love the music, the fact that I want to take them all to bed with
me is just a happy aside. Or rather, the music is an aside here probably. I
mean, really. Who among you reading this does it because you like the
music? Thought not. You're reading it because there's a tantalising glimmer
of homosexual relations involving one or more of McFly, and because my
stories are usually incredibly dirty. Shame on you all. Can't you just go
look up gay porn on google or something? It would be much easier for all of
us.
      Danny finished changing into a new shirt and trousers and came to sit
on the bed by me. This was so weird looking up at him like that.
      "You gonna be okay?"
      "Yes nurse," I replied mockingly, then descended into a fit of
coughing. He put a hand on my forehead, so warm... caring... he was
sweet. His fingers brushed my lips as he pulled
away... accidental... maybe? Probably?
      "We're going clubbing, be back in a few hours. I'll try not to wake
you."
      "Try a club called NG1, and stay away from the Cookie Club." I
shouted at his retreating back.
      "Thanks for the advice..." he stopped in the doorway. "Wait, how did
you know?"
      "I tried to tell you, I actually live in Nottingham. I'm a student. I
go to university here."
      "Oh." The expression on his face was perfect. I grinned.
      "Thankyou for this, I appreciate it."
      "Well..." he grinned back at me a bit, "Next time I'm ill, I'm
staying at your place."
      The door clicked shut behind him, and I turned over, coughing
slightly, my body snug in Danny Jones' hotel bed.

      A half hour later my phone buzzed. New message.

12.10.2005	11:43
Twistian
OMG McFly r dancing @ a gay club

      I grinned. Danny, enjoy NG1.