Date: Thu, 13 May 2004 13:50:29 +0100
From: Drew Hunt <drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk>
Subject: The House On The Hill 13

This work is copyright.  I have given permission for a copy of this story
to be placed on the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission
agreement.  But This work may not be copied or archived onto any other
website or newsgroup without the prior written permission of the author.

This story is fiction, it didn't happen, to the best of the author's
knowledge no one in the story exists in real life.

If you have a problem with reading stories of a homosexual nature, then
bugger off.  Also you shouldn't read on if you are below the age of
consent, or you have the misfortune to reside in an area where reading and
downloading this kind of material is against the law.

To re-quote myself, and also Tim Mead, editors definitely are precious, and
the work they do often goes unsung.  Lars and Tom W put in a lot of hard
work behind the scenes, making the words you read flow far more easily.
Thanks Tim (the author of such gems as Dr Tim And The Boys - College
section) for your kind words about my stories.

Chapter 13

"God, I'm bored!" Robbie grumbled.

"It was your idea to look at new cars," Carl replied.

"There's a difference between looking, and spending the whole morning
traipsing round every bloody car showroom in this half of Lancashire."

"Well, it's important that you get the right model."  Carl was enjoying
himself, he'd always liked looking at new cars.  Although his own finances
wouldn't allow him to buy even the cheapest vehicle, he loved looking round
all the various models, and pawing over the glossy brochures, riveted by
the endless columns of performance data.

When Robbie had asked Carl to help him choose a four-wheel drive car he was
unaware that his lover would treat it like a military exercise.  Calling in
a few favours at the building site, Carl had managed to get the Saturday
off work.  He thought that as he'd already enjoyed one day off work that
week, he'd have to go in, but he'd been lucky.  Robbie, Carl and Ben had
eaten an early breakfast, and had spent the past few hours visiting many of
the car showrooms in the area.

"This is the last one before we stop for lunch," Carl said.  He'd loved
driving Robbie's BMW, to him it handled like a dream, and he didn't know
why Robbie wanted to get rid of it.  He'd heard his lover say that the car
was too flashy for his old home.  Carl didn't think it mattered all that
much; it was a nice car, and that was that.

"Well, that's a relief then," Robbie said, putting down one of the many
brochures Carl had insisted on getting.  He didn't understand any of it.
He was just going by what the thing looked like on the outside; never
concerning himself with what went on under the bonnet.

Ben just sat in the back seat staying quiet as usual.  He'd followed along
behind his dad and his Uncle as they'd visited several showrooms, glad to
see his dad so content.

"So which one are we going to next?" Robbie asked.

"Well, I thought you might like to have a look at the Mitsubishi Shogun.
It got an excellent write up in 'What Car' the other month."  Carl went on
to extol the details of this latest vehicle, Robbie just yawned and thought
about what he'd like to have for lunch.

Drawing up outside the dealership, the three got out of the car.  They'd
barely taken a few steps before a salesman in the customary sharp suit
accosted them.  He'd seen the not inexpensive car draw up; sensing people
with money; he decided to put on his falsest smile and most condescending
attitude.  As Carl had been driving the car, it was he whom the salesman
approached.

"Good morning, or should I say good afternoon sir, erm sirs."  He bowed.
"And how may I be of assistance this fine day?"

The ritual, Robbie observed, was being played out again.  At least with
Carl seeming as though he was the one in charge, it was he whom the
salesmen always bothered.

"The latest Shogun, we'd like to have a look at it, please."

"A most excellent choice, if I may say so."

The oiliness of the man irked Carl enormously, but he'd developed a good
poker face.

The three were lead into the showroom, the salesman talking all the way
about the wonderful attributes of the car.

Carl cut him off in mid gush.  "Can we have a test drive?"

"Most certainly."

Robbie looked on as the salesman continued his patter.

"We've arranged to be somewhere else shortly," Carl said in an effort to
re-focus the man.

"Oh yes, of course."  The man went into the office and got out a key for
the car in question.

When he handed over the keys to Carl, the latter gave them to Robbie.  This
surprised the salesman momentarily, but he soon recovered.  As they walked
back out onto the forecourt, the man turned his attention to Robbie,
regurgitating the facts he'd just delivered to Carl about how well the car
handled on the road, and how it got almost 50 miles per gallon, too.
Robbie stood it for as long as he could then he said, "Where's the car?"

"It's next to you, sir."

Robbie was again reminded of Abraham Lincoln's phrase "Better to keep your
mouth shut and be thought a fool, rather than open it and remove all
doubt."

Once they were out on the open road, Robbie said, "God, I hate car
salesmen."

"They're only doing their job, love," Carl said, admiring the internal trim
of the vehicle.  "How's it handling?"

"Oh nice," Robbie said.

"Does it have a CD player?"  This latter came from the back.

"Yes, Ben," Carl said, examining the radio.

Ben settled back in the comfortable rear seat.  There was enough leg room
for him; that, along with the need for decent in-car entertainment, was all
he was interested in.

After driving for a couple of miles, Robbie drove back into the dealership.
He saw the salesman waiting for them.  'Here we go again,' Robbie said to
himself.

"And what did you think of it, sir?" he asked Robbie.

"Oh, it handled the road beautifully."  He remembered Carl saying it would.

"Yes sir, it's a very popular model amongst our more discerning clients."

They went indoors.

"How much can you take off of the list price?  We aren't interested in a
trade-in," Carl said.

Robbie sat back and let his lover do the bartering, he didn't like this
side of buying a car.  'Why on earth can't they just put a price on it and
mean it?  When you buy a tin of beans from the supermarket, you don't
haggle about the price.'  His eyes began to glaze over as Carl and the
sharp suited salesman did battle.  Robbie had heard the same tired old
phrases many times that day already.  Carl told the man that as it was
after the first of August, meaning the new registration plates had already
come out, the car industry was enjoying a quiet time, so this ought to be
reflected in the price.

"We have very narrow profit margins," the salesman returned.

Robbie, disinterested by the negotiations, started to look round the
showroom.  He saw a group of three guys examining a smaller car at the
other end of the place.  There was a rather nice beefy blonde who seemed to
be asking most of the questions, the other two, a thinner and slightly
younger replica of the first, plus a shorter black haired guy hung back
somewhat from the proceedings.

"Well, we were given a better deal at another garage," Carl said standing
up, pretending to leave the interview.

"Well, maybe we can work something out then," the salesman wheedled.  He
knew it was all part of the game, and as there were few other potential
customers about, he decided to play along.

After another five minutes of haggling, Carl seemed satisfied.  "Well, we
haven't decided which model to buy, but you've given us a good deal, I have
to admit that."

"Yes, we like to pride ourselves on our competitive pricing," the man
oiled.  If he got this sale, it would boost his monthly bonus quite nicely.

The three men plus Ben stood up; the man gave Robbie one of his cards, and
then shook hands with Carl and then Robbie.  As they were making their way
out, they met up with the three men whom Robbie had seen earlier.

"The joinery business must be doing well if you can afford a Shogun."

"Oh hi, Chris.  Didn't see you there," Carl said.  "No, it's not for me,
it's for my, um, friend.  He wants a new car, but he's got no idea of
what's good and what isn't."

"Oh right, I see," Chris said.  "We're out looking at cars for Scott here.
He's pretty clueless, too."

Robbie and Scott exchanged glances with one another that said 'What are we,
chopped liver?'

"Yeah, Scott's going to Liverpool Uni in October, and he needs to be able
to get there and back easily."

"Oh, you got the grades, then?" Carl turned to Scott.

"Yeah, I was lucky."

"Rubbish," Chris said wrapping an arm around his brother.  "We're really
proud of him.  Aren't we, Danny?" Chris said, looking over at his other
brother.

"Yeah, a real brain box is our Scott."

"Rob," Carl said turning to his partner.  "This is Chris Blake and his
brothers Scott and Danny.  You remember I put in a new kitchen for them a
few weeks back?"

"Oh yes."  Robbie held out a hand which the others shook warmly.

"And this is Ben, my son."  More shaking of hands.

"Have you decided which car you like?" Chris asked Robbie.

"Err, no.  I've seen so many this morning, I've forgotten what's what."

"Same here." Scott said softly.  Though it was exciting to be buying one's
first vehicle, Scott was also rather apprehensive.  It brought home to him
that he would shortly be leaving the comforting bosom of his family to go
off to university, something he had reservations about.

"Listen, we were going to grab some lunch at a pub somewhere," Chris
announced.  "Would you like to join us?"

"Thanks, that'd be great," Robbie said without consulting Carl.  Although
his partner had said that they would be going off to lunch after visiting
this garage, Robbie didn't want to run the risk that Carl would somehow
sneak in another showroom beforehand.

"Though it's a while since I've been, The Blue Ball isn't that far away,
and it's a nice place.  Do you know it?" Chris asked.

Robbie didn't, but Carl did.  Carl agreed to follow Chris's car to the pub.

Back in Robbie's BMW, Carl said.  "They're a really nice family, those
three.  It's how I think brothers should be."

Robbie laughed.

"What's funny?"

Robbie didn't know what to do.  He couldn't be certain; his gaydar wasn't
the most attuned, but he could have sworn he saw all three brother's
exchanging loving glances with one another.  Though it was obvious that
Chris was in charge, the body language of the other two spoke to Robbie of
loving deference to their larger brother.

"What!" Carl said when Robbie didn't reply.

"Car, erm, well I can't be certain," he dried.  He didn't want Carl to make
a scene or do anything embarrassing.

"What can't you be certain about?"

>From the back seat Ben pricked up his ears.

"I'm not sure, but I think those three are a bit more than brothers."

Carl mulled it over for a bit.  "You mean?"

"As I said I can't be certain.  You remember me telling you about gaydar?"

"Bloody hell," Carl said, swerving slightly.  "All three of them?"

"Looks that way to me.  Look, Car, you mustn't make a scene.  It's
obviously something they try to hide.  I mean, it is unusual for two
brothers to have that kind of relationship, but when there's a third
. . . ."  Robbie trailed off.

Carl thought back to when he worked at the Blake house.  He remembered
seeing the three being rather physical with one another; he'd just passed
it off as them being really close.  Then he remembered seeing something in
Scott's eyes once when Chris's name had come up in conversation.  Scott's
eyes had grown really soft and a smile had flashed across his lips.

"Well, it's different, I have to say," Carl eventually said.

"Look, I could be barking up the wrong tree," Robbie tried to back peddle.

"No, I think you're on to something."  Then remembering Ben's presence,
"Ben, you mustn't say anything about what me and your Uncle Rob have just
been talking about."

"Dad!!!  I'm not a kid you know."

Carl chuckled, "No, son, although you're only twelve, well, you're a really
smart twelve."

In the car in front, there was a not too dissimilar discussion going on.

"I'm telling you, Lion, they are," Danny said.  "I saw them get out of the
car when they first arrived, before that salesman collared them.  The curly
brown-haired guy . . . "

"Rob," Scott put in.

"Yeah, him.  Well, he gave Carl such a loving look when they got out of the
car.  I thought they were gonna hold hands.  And the way Carl kind of
looked after Rob, well, it's just like you do with us.  I bet they're
newly-weds, too."

"And what do you think, Cub?" Chris asked Scott.

"I think they are.  You know that's Rob Foster, don't you?  His dad used to
own the glassworks."

"Really!" Danny said, still remembering the time he was made redundant from
that establishment.

"Don't go there, Cub," Chris warned Danny softly.

Being made redundant from Foster's still rankled with Danny, though he had
to concede that he now had a much better job as a porter at the hospital.

"Yeah Lion, sorry," Danny said ducking his head.

Chris continued to mull over what Danny and Scott had been telling him over
the past couple of minutes.  He wasn't as good at picking out other gay men
as they were.  He'd never have thought that Carl was gay, he was just so,
so . . . Chris couldn't think of the right word, but then he himself didn't
fit the gay stereotype, either.

Chris remembered a conversation he'd had with his two dads about finding
more gay friends.  He thought the three needed to reach out to other people
to improve their social life, but given their rather unique circumstances,
it wasn't easy.

Larry and Eric understood Chris's need for a broader circle of friends,
though they had warned him to tread carefully.  This was something Chris
always did.  He'd never do anything to jeopardise his relationship with his
brothers.

"Okay, if there's a right time to bring up the subject, then I'll do it,"
Chris said.  He knew his brothers had waited for him to make his mind up.
If he had rejected the plan to speak to Robbie and Carl about their
situation, then neither man would have said anything.  Chris was their
leader, they knew it and accepted it warmly.

Drawing up outside the Blue Ball, both groups alighted from their vehicles
and went into the pub.  The place was quite busy, but Chris pushed his way
to the bar; he smiled at one of the barmaids, who as soon as she finished
serving her present customer went over to him to ask what he wanted.  Chris
called over to Robbie, Carl and Ben; he already knew what his brothers
drank.

Carl found a couple of tables; he pulled them together, and they sat down.

"Rob, Scott's going to study medicine at Liverpool," Carl said.  He was
still mulling over the revelations of a few minutes earlier.  It surprised
him to realise that he wasn't revolted by the possibility that his dining
companions had an incestuous as well as polygamous relationship.  Carl
realised that he'd come a long way in a very short time.  Thanks entirely
to the precious soul sitting next to him.  Carl surreptitiously gave
Robbie's hand a squeeze under the table.  Scott had seen him do it; he gave
Danny a nudge, and they shared a secret smile between them.

The place was far too crowded for Chris to broach the very delicate subject
of their love life, therefore the majority of the meal was spent discussing
cars.  The main contributors to the conversation being Carl and Chris, with
the odd comment coming from Danny, too.

In an effort to include Robbie in the conversation, Chris asked, "So I take
it you prefer four-wheel drives?"

"Yeah, don't know why really, it might be easier to get about in the bad
weather."

"What models have you looked at?"

"Well, I thought I'd like the Range Rover.  I'm not that up on cars."

"But you didn't like it?"

"Well, they're a bit reminiscent of middle-class parents, taking their
overly spoilt offspring to their private prep schools in the leafy
suburbs."

Scott laughed; Chris observed that they were a little on the heavy side
too.

"Then, as I've already got a BMW, we looked at those, but well, I'm not
sure."

"You like the car you've got now?"

"It was okay in London, but, oh, I don't know, I don't want anything too
flashy."

The group then began discussing the type of vehicle that they were after
for Scott.

"Although I've driven Chris's Saab a few times I'm scared to death of
putting a dent in it," Scott said, treating Chris to a shy smile.

"You're a good driver, it's just you lack confidence," Chris smiled back at
him.

"It's also a bit too big for me.  I just need a run about," Scott put in.

"We were thinking of a Volkswagen Golf, or something like that," Chris told
the group.

Although the subject matter of their conversation didn't really interest
Robbie, he still felt a close kinship with the three Blake brothers.  He
was a little dismayed when the meal was over and they all prepared to
leave.  Once they'd separated in the car park, Robbie asked Carl if he
thought it was a good idea to invite the brothers over the next Saturday.

"It's your house, love," Carl said.

"Well, I'd like to think of it as our house.  And I'd like you to be there
when they come over."

Robbie went over to their car and made the offer.

"That'd be really neighbourly of you," Chris said.  "We've nothing on next
weekend," Robbie noticed him say without consulting his brothers.  "Thanks
very much."

"If you're interested, bring your swimming trunks and we can make a day of
it."

"Erm, oh yes, that's a good idea."  Chris had forgotten that Robbie had his
own pool.

* * * * *

"Well, what about the Land Rover Discovery?  Isn't a Land Rover supposed to
be a good vehicle?" Robbie asked.

He and Carl were sitting in the drawing room back at the house pouring over
all the literature they'd amassed that morning.

"Yeah, the Land Rover is good, but the Discovery is prone to rotting."

Robbie slung the Land Rover brochure at the waste paper bin.  It missed.

"What's next, ah yeah, Toyota."  Robbie looked at the picture on the front.
"I thought it was a bit posh looking," he said, remembering the vehicles in
that particular garage; they hadn't even bothered asking for a test drive
there.

"They are very sound and reliable," Carl prompted.  "But yeah, you're
right, they don't fit the image of the new Robert 'I don't want to stick
out in a crowd' Foster."

"Charming."

"Only joking, sweetheart.  I honestly don't think a Toyota is you, love."

"Nope, okay then."  The Toyota brochures suffered the same fate as the Land
Rover ones.  Though this time Robbie managed a direct hit to the basket.

"I guess the same can be said for the Mercedes and BMWs too?" Robbie said,
his hand poised to hurl the leaflets away.

"Yup, 'fraid so."

"Now, what's left?"  Robbie looked at the remaining brochures.  "I thought
the Shogun was a good car."

"Yes, it's well thought of."

"Okay, we'll hang on to that one for a minute," Robbie said, putting the
literature to one side.

"We didn't look in the Porsche garage."

"Even I know that they'd be much too opulent-looking for me."

"Yeah."

"Well, that leaves us with the Isuzu Trooper," Robbie said regarding the
one remaining booklet in his lap.

"Now I liked that one.  It wasn't as rich looking as even the Shogun, which
I have to say has gotten flashier on this years model.  It's got a good
workmanlike appearance and sound engineering under the bonnet.  It might
not have the edge for its finish as the Mitsubishi, but it's a very sound
car."

"So you think I ought to get a Trooper, then?" Robbie said, spying light at
the end of the tunnel.

"It's your money.  They are a bit cheaper than the Shogun, but they're
still pricey."

"Yeah, but you say they are soundly made?"

"Oh yes, definitely."

"Wasn't that the first one we looked at this morning?"

"Erm, yeah, I think so," Carl replied.

"You mean to say that we spent the whole morning buggering about in car
showroom after car showroom, me listening to the same conversation over and
over again, and we end up choosing the first one we looked at?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Shit."

"Didn't you enjoy being in my scintillatingly studly presence all morning?"
Carl said, leaning over and treating Robbie to a full-on lip lock.

"I kept wanting to rip all your clothes off of you, and take you on the
back seat of one of their cars."

"You might have got something knocked off the price if we'd stained the
seats, you know, 'shop soiled'," Carl said, going in for another kiss.

Once they'd settled down again, Robbie asked, "Look, can we go back to the
Isuzu dealership tomorrow and buy one?  I'd rather get it all over with
this weekend if I can."

"Won't you need to sort out finance?  I know it wasn't the dearest car
we've looked at, but it's still not cheap."

"Oh, it's okay, I'll write them a cheque.  It'll take a few days to clear,
but I imagine we'll have to wait that long for them to get the exact colour
and internal trim I want."

"You can write them a cheque?  What are you, a millionaire or something?"
Carl joked.

Robbie just looked evenly at Carl.

"What?"

"Car, look, I don't like talking about money much, but well, erm. . . . "

"You're not telling me you're a millionaire?  Stop buggering about, Rob."
Carl gave a nervous laugh at Robbie's continued serious expression.

"Although I don't have that much in the bank, I've got various portfolios
as well as guilt edged government bonds and the like, and with my shares in
the company in London, plus my half of the glassworks, well," Robbie hated
discussing money with Carl, but he knew he couldn't back out now.  "Well,
I'm worth a little over a million on paper," Robbie said quickly.

Carl stared open mouthed.  "Fuck!"

The room fell silent; Carl got up and began pacing.

"Well, I knew you had money, of course, but, oh shit, I didn't know
. . . ."  Carl began to worry.  He had nothing like that in the bank; in
fact he battled each month just to remain in credit.

"Car, sit down, love."  Robbie was growing agitated, too.  Carl sat; Robbie
took hold of his hands.  "Love, I hesitated about telling you because I
knew you'd react like this."

"But Rob, I'm not, shit, with that much money you could have anyone!"

"Don't you dare go down that road!" Robbie said angrily.  "I've got money,
so bloody what?  It can be a curse as much as a pleasure.  Yeah, I can go
out and buy pretty much anything I want to.  I've done that.  I thought
that buying nice things might make me happy, but the happiness only lasts
for a short while.  Having someone to love and who loves you in return is
worth far more than any amount of money."

"Yeah, but I'm not rich like you, I can't treat you to nice things."

"I don't want nice things, Carl.  I've just told you I've done all that,
and it's empty, pointless and very lonely.  Car, you can give me something
that no amount of money can buy.  You can give me your heart, your love and
yourself.  That's worth billions to me."

Carl was still in shock.  Rising from his seat, he resumed his pacing, he
needed to think.  He'd been brought up to be the chief wage earner in any
relationship.  He'd known that probably Robbie had more money than him, but
he'd not really thought about it that deeply.  However with Robbie having
that much, shit he just couldn't compete with that.  Carl headed for the
door, but Robbie got there first.

"Oh no, you don't!  You're not gonna stick your head in the sand and brood
again.  I'm not going to sit here for day after day until you try and sort
your head out."

"But Rob . . . " Carl said pleadingly.

"My money is useless to me if I've no one to spend it with."

"I don't want you to be buying me things.  I won't be, well, a kept man."

"You have your pride.  I understand and appreciate that.  Don't you think
that this morning, as I was looking round thinking about spending a
ridiculously large sum of money on a new car, which I probably don't need,
I wasn't fully aware that you go around in a vehicle that I suspect is
mechanically not all that sound?  Carl, don't you think I didn't realise
that you are far more in need of new transportation than me?"

"Yes."

"Though it would give me more pleasure than you'll ever know to buy you a
new van, I'm fully aware that you couldn't accept me doing it.  So I've
stayed quiet.  Because absolutely the last thing in the world I ever want
to do is to hurt your feelings.  Please Car, please try and look at it from
my point of view.  I've got the means to help you, but I know I can't do
it.  Can you imagine how frustrating that is?"

Carl stayed silent for a minute; he was still facing the door, with Robbie
barring his exit.  "Yeah, I can see what you're saying," Carl said, his
shoulders relaxing.  He returned to the sofa, Robbie going after him.

"God I love you, Rob," Carl said hugging his man tightly to him.

"I love you, too."

They stayed connected for a couple of minutes, neither of them saying
anything.

Robbie eventually broke the silence.  "You okay, now?"

"It was a shock, Rob, I've got to tell you that."

"I know, sweetheart.  I didn't know when would be the best time to tell
you.  But let me make one thing absolutely clear.  I'd give away every cent
of it if it would make you feel better."

Carl looked into Robbie's eyes; he could see the sincerity in them.  "No,
Rob, that's daft.  All I'll ask of you is to let me pay my way when we go
out.  It's a pride thing, you know?"

Robbie nodded.  "I understand, Car.  As I said before, I'd buy you
everything your heart desired, just like that." Robbie clicked his fingers.
"But you wouldn't let me, would you?"

Carl shook his head in the negative.  "No, I'd feel so uncomfortable about
that."

* * * * *

Carl had lived up to his promise to Robbie about taking him to the cinema.
Robbie, knowing of Carl's intentions to show some outward display of
affection during the film, had persuaded Carl to take him to an out of town
theatre.  Robbie had used the excuse that the cinema on the outskirts of
Liverpool was a multiplex, which would give them more choice.

So they'd gone in Robbie's car; Carl had insisted that as he'd made the
invite, he was going to do the driving, too.

"Oh, doing your macho bit?" Robbie teased.  He loved it when Carl asserted
himself like that.

"No, I just like driving your car," Carl joked.

As they stood in line looking at what was on offer, even though it was
Robbie's choice, he didn't know what to pick.  He didn't think they could
cuddle up whilst watching an action movie, nor did he think Carl would want
to watch a slushy romance.  Seeing that one screen was replaying 'Beautiful
Thing', a story about two gay teenagers living on an inner London housing
estate, Robbie wondered if he dared pick that.

Carl saw where Robbie was looking.  "If you want to."

"But would you feel too uncomfortable about seeing it?"

Carl shook his head.  "No, I wouldn't, and as I said before, it's your
choice."

Getting to the front of the line, Carl asked for two tickets for 'Beautiful
Thing'.

On the way to the auditorium, Carl stopped at the refreshment stand and
bought a large bucket of toffee popcorn, as well as two carbonated drinks.
Robbie feared that Carl was spending too much; the tickets, the snacks,
plus a meal which Robbie knew they were going for after the film.  However,
he held firm to his promise about letting Carl put his hand in his pocket,
and made no comment.

As the movie began, with The Mamas and the Papas singing 'It's Getting
Better', Robbie snuggled down in the seat.  He'd gone into the auditorium
first, thinking they'd sit somewhere in the middle.  Realising that Carl
was no longer with him, he looked round, only to see Carl standing at the
end of one of the rows of double seats at the back.  Robbie didn't think
Carl would have followed through on his intentions to sit at the back.
Sitting together like that wouldn't leave anyone who saw them in any doubt
that they were 'together'.

Walking back up the aisle, Robbie asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Though very nervous about showing such a public display of his affections,
Carl had determined on the drive to the cinema that he'd make this a date
to remember for Robbie.  The man had waited half his lifetime for the
experience, so he was going to pull out all the stops and bugger the
consequences.  "Yes," Carl said quietly.  He didn't mind admitting that he
was scared, his knees were starting to shake, and he was coming out in a
light sweat, too, but he was going to do it to show Robbie that he loved
him.

As the opening sequences ended, and the story proper began, Robbie
remembered seeing the film when it had first come out.  Though there were
significant differences between his own life and that of Jamie, one of the
chief characters, he couldn't help drawing some comparisons.  Jamie didn't
like sport, and bunked off school to avoid it.  Robbie, in the pre-Carl
days had thought about escaping games in a similar manner, but he knew he'd
get found out.  Ste, the other major character in the movie, was popular
with the other kids; he was also good at sport.  A person not too
dissimilar to Carl, Robbie believed.

Robbie's thoughts were interrupted when Carl snaked his arm around his
back.  At first he stiffened; what if anyone looked round?  But then he
realised that he didn't care.  They were far enough away from Greenville to
hopefully not encounter anyone they knew.  Robbie snuggled into Carl and
sighed in contentment.

"Enjoying it?" Carl asked softly.

When Robbie turned his head to reply, he found Carl's lips on his.

"Told you I'd give you a kiss when the lights went down." Carl said, seeing
the mild shock on Robbie's face.

"I love you," Robbie whispered.

Robbie spent the rest of the film in a haze of happy thoughts.

Meanwhile, Carl couldn't help draw parallels between this date with Robbie,
and his first visit to the cinema with Maureen.  Although the time with
Maureen had been pleasant enough, Carl was certain that despite the fact
that he was sitting close to another man, with all the potential problems
that that might bring, he felt supremely comfortable.  It all felt just so
good, so right, and very satisfying.  Another difference that was making
itself made known to Carl was the fact that he was sporting a hard-on,
something he was sure he hadn't achieved on that other occasion.

* * * * *

After the film, Carl took Robbie for an Indian meal.  Robbie had eaten food
from various cultures many times before.  Patrick, his late partner, had
loved pasta; the two had often eaten out at various Italian eateries.
Secretly, Robbie was glad that they weren't eating Italian that night.

They'd ordered too much; one Nan bread and a single portion of Basmati rice
between them would have been sufficient.

Throughout the meal, the pair treated one another to soppy glances and
loving smiles, not to mention the frequent games of footsie under the
table, too.  The low lighting and romantic sitar music in the background
didn't hurt, either.

They'd rejected the offer from the waiter of coffee, however they did take
advantage of the proffered warm washcloths to wipe away their sweat at
eating quite a spicy meal, though neither of them had dared to choose
anything too fierce.  Then they made their way back downstairs to pay.

In front of them stood another couple; once the credit card receipt had
been signed by the male patron, the member of staff checked the signature,
gave the man back his card and his receipt, he then presented the lady with
a single rose.  The couple left, and Carl moved up to pay.  He presented
his credit card; fortunately the meal hadn't been that expensive.  The guy
behind the counter swiped the card through the reader and the till printed
out a receipt, which Carl signed.

As the man handed Carl's credit card and receipt back to him, Carl asked,
"May I have one of those roses for my boyfriend, please?"

To the man's credit, he didn't bat an eyelid.  "Yes, of course, sir."  He
plucked one of the flowers from the display, and handed it over.

Carl took a gob-smacked Robbie's arm and lead him from the restaurant.
Neither of them saw the smiling faces of the male couple who were standing
behind them waiting for their turn to pay.

"Did you enjoy our first date, sweetheart?" Carl asked rubbing Robbie's
back.

"I, I, oh shit!" Robbie said battling with his emotions.

"I thought you'd like a flower, that's all."

"Carl, it was beautiful, very romantic, and where on Earth did you get the
courage to do it?"

"Well, I know you've waited a long time for this night, and I wanted to
make it as special as I could for you.  I saw the woman in front get a
flower, so I thought why shouldn't you be given the same consideration?"

"I know, believe me, Carl, I wish that our relationship could have the same
level of public acceptance, but you were brave.  Not just in there, but
also in the cinema.  If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were a
different Carl Powers from the man who, well, you know."

Carl knew.  He remembered the journey home from the site that one day, when
he had planned to tell Robbie that he'd made a mistake, and that he
couldn't love him.  Carl was so glad that he hadn't spoken up back then,
because he knew that he'd have destroyed any chance of the happiness he was
now enjoying.

"You okay?" Robbie asked after Carl had walked along in silence for a
couple of minutes.

"I was just thinking back to that horrible week and . . . and, well we
don't need to go there.  I know now what I want, and he's walking next to
me, and I know he loves me just as much as I love him."

Robbie squeezed Carl's hand briefly.  They were on a well-lit public
street, with cars passing them, so Robbie couldn't be as demonstrative in
his affections as he would like to have been.  But Carl knew what that
squeeze signified.

To be continued

Author's note - Wow, what a week.  Although I have individually thanked
each person who has been kind enough to write to me, expressing their
support for this story, I would like to thank them all again publically.
Without feedback and encouragement from readers, there would be little
point in an author continuing to post.  Please remember this the next time
you come across a story on Nifty that you like.

To Evan Bradley, who said some pretty flattering things about me at the end
of chapter 25 of his excellent story 'The Crew' (Adult Friends) 'Thas a
reet un ya daft aypeth.'  Although this story is set in Lancashire, I'm a
dyed in the wool Yorkshireman, and proud of it.  You're a wonderful person,
Evan, and I'm proud and honoured to call you friend, even though you don't
speak the Queen's English.