Date: Fri, 12 Sep 2014 13:58:20 +0100
From: Secret Writer <secret_writer@outlook.com>
Subject: Cal - 9

/*****

Cal - part 9

Notes from the author:

Hi there, this is my first story for nifty - so please let me know what
you think.  It's weirdly lonely when you have no idea what anyone thinks
of your work.
You can contact me at secret_writer@outlook.com

---

There's going to be a delay before the next chapter is out, sorry guys,
but I'm unavoidably detained for a few weeks.

---

I don't know if this will go anywhere, but I'm considering publishing
this story, and if I do, I'm going to need some artwork for the cover, so
if you know anyone.....

---

All the usual disclaimers apply, if you shouldn't be reading this then
don't.  And if you don't like this kind of content, well really, WTF are
you doing here?

The previous episodes in this story can be found here:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/cal

And don't forget, if you enjoy this story (or even if you don't but have
found some other stuff you like) then think about supporting the site
at http://donate.nifty.org

*****/

We left the bar and Simon headed off after giving me a big hug.  Davey
and I walked home, pretty much in silence.  The whole thing
had kinda brought down a nice night.  And as much as Davey had said it
was OK at the time, I got the feeling that he was actually pretty pissed
off that I'd hit Mark.  Even though he was being a total fucking knob.
When we got in, I started getting ready for bed like usual, and Davey was
sorting out more food for Scarlett.  He seemed distracted, and I wasn't
really sure I wanted to know why.  I stood in the kitchen doorway
watching him play with Scarlett for a few minutes before he saw me.

"Just go to bed baby, I'll be there in a minute."

Not knowing what else to do, I went to the bedroom.  Alone, lonely, and
sad.  Not even Scarlett came to see me - but with Davey in the house,
there was never any real competition for her attention, he wins every
time.  An hour later, and I'm laying on the bed, wondering if I've
seriously fucked up this time.  I mean - I've fucke dup before, plenty of
times.  But this is feeling really fucking serious.  I know that I've
hardly been an easy boyfriend - totally strung out by the
tiniest fucking thing, massively insecure, and now I'm forcing Davey to
choose between me and his friends.  OK - I know I'm not actually giving
him that choice, but that's how it felt tonight.  Davey still hasn't come
to bed.  I need to try and make this better.  I pulled on my jeans and
went to see what was happening.  Davey was sat on the sofa, with Scarlett
apparently asleep by his feet.  Protecting her owner from the
'little fucking criminal'?  Those words were still going round in my
head, and still hurt, but perhaps it's not an exactly unfair
description.

"Davey?"  I wasn't sure if he was asleep or what, it was dark.  He turned
to look at me.  Fuck, I hadn't seen him like this before, like, ever.  I
guess he'd maybe been crying, but he looked so sad, and lonely,
and kinda angry too.  Bollox.  Total fucking bollox.  I knew that I'd
done this to him.

"Davey, I know I said I'm sorry, and I am, and I know that you're pretty
mad at me right now, but I don't know how to make this better.  I
shouldn't have gone for him like that, but he was saying some pretty bad
stuff."

He just stared at me for what felt like an hour but was probably only a
minute.

"Come here baby."  I sat next to him.  "Is that really what you think?"

I just nodded.  I mean, what the fuck could I say to help here?  No
idea.

"Cal, you're so sweet, and also, cute, and funny, and loveable, and
amazing, but..."

"Davey, please..."  I knew this was it.  I tried to will him to stop
talking.  If he didn't ever say that we were over, then it wouldn't be
true.

"But you're kinda fucking stupid sometimes."

Fuck - so you're gonna dump me, there's no need to be extra fucking mean,
just say it!  I glared at him.

"I'm not mad with you.  I just hate what happened.  I feel like I put you
in that position with someone who could be so hurtful, and then I didn't
even help.  I should have been able to help, but I didn't see it coming,
and then I couldn't get to you fast enough because the table was in the
way.  I can't believe I let someone hurt you like that - I'm a pretty
shit boyfriend aren't I.  I couldn't even protect you."

Whoa.  This isn't right.  I'm the one with - yes, OK, I admit it -
slightly fucking drama queen characteristics.  I'm the insecure freak who
never believes anything good is gonna happen.  What the fuck am I
supposed to do if Davey starts doing that too?  I'm totally screwed, and
not in any of the good ways.  I could feel myself taking deep breaths,
oh fuck, I was going to have to say something.  And not just shit,
something actually, I dunno, real?  Useful?  Helpful?

"OK Davey, look, I'm not very good at this, but I don't see how you have
anything to feel bad about.  You can't control what people think, and
unless you knew all along what Mark was going to be like and just let it
happen anyway, it's totally not your fault."

"Of course I didn't know!"

"So shut up then.  And it's not your fucking job to protect me.  You're
my boyfriend, not my fucking bodyguard.  Besides, you already totally
saved my arse once, and look where that got you?  I'm still here!"

I gave him a hug.  It makes me feel better, so maybe it will make him
feel better too.

"So, you're not disappointed?"

"Davey - I can't even begin to explain how impossible that idea is right
now.  I don't think there's ever any way in the world I could be
disappointed with you.  You are awesome.  Tonight was awesome, you make
me feel awesome, and yeah, the last bit at the bar, that was shit.  But
you didn't do that.  Please Davey, just come to bed."

I kissed him, not a horny, come fuck me kiss.  A real kiss.  As he lay
against me, he said he was going to take the day off tomorrow.  I was
only planning on shopping for work clothes, so that was cool with me.

"Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"You erm.....you kind of freaked me out a little at the bar.  You seemed
to be so calm, and then you just kind of exploded.  It was a little
scary."

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry.  It happens sometimes."

"You were kind of fucking awesome though.  Even if I did think you might
have really hurt him."

"OK - three things Davey.  Don't swear, it doesn't sound right with your
posh boy accent and your mum would be very upset to hear it. And
don't keep saying saying 'kind of', no-one over 15 talks like that,
it's just so common.  And yeah, I *am* fucking awesome baby."

We both laughed at my little role-switching joke, and I held him as close
to me as I could, hoping that he could feel at least just a tiny bit like
I do when he does that to me.

The fucking alarm is going off at 6.30am as usual, because neither of us
thought to turn it off last night.  I was still cuddled up to Davey, just
how we fell asleep.  Sweet.  Davey hit the alarm a couple of times, but
it didn?t stop, so he passed it behind to me.  I turned it off and dropped
it on the floor.  A few minutes later I got out of bed and pulled on some
clean boxers before heading to the kitchen.  Switching on the coffee
machine I smiled to myself - it was only a few weeks ago that I thought I
was going to blow it up when I switched it on, and then  I fed Scarlett.
Breakfast was pleasantly intimate, and the events of last night were
already seeming distant and somehow unimportant.

Of course, the world isn't so fucking understanding some mornings, and
the banging on the door just after 8.00am signalled the storm had
arrived after the so far calm start to the day.  It was Kati.  Of
course.  Fucking hell. She was seriously ranting at Davey even before he
opened the door.  Davey pretty much ignored her, but when they got to the
Kitchen doorway she saw me, and seemed to knock it up a gear.
I kinda thought she would stop after a minute or two, but it didn't seem
to be happening.  It clearly wasn't a good idea for me to interrupt her,
or to correct her wildly inaccurate version of what had gone off at the
bar.  Eventually I think Davey got bored.

"Kati........Kati.........Kati!"

"What?"

"Shut up."

"What?  I come over here to try and make you see sense and you start..."

"Kati, that's not what happened."

"What?"

"That's not what happened."

Taking advantage of the momentary pause in her endless talking.  Davey
summarised what actually went on, taking care to highlight just how much
Mark was being a twat, and how he hit me first.  Kati begrudgingly
acknowledged that perhaps she didn't have an entirely balanced view,
having only actually heard from Mark.

She left, eventually.  We had hardly kissed and made up, but she was at
least polite.  Davey negotiated with Scarlett that we would go out later
in the afternoon with her.  She didn't seem too bothered, presumably
knowing that we were going shopping and preferring not to.  We headed in
to town, and quickly ended up back at my latest favourite clothes shop.
The stuff I got there last time was awesome, and really helped with my
interview, so I thought it was a good place to start.  The shop boy was
there again.  Apparently, well, not apparently, his name tag said it, he
was called Gavin.  He didn't look like a Gavin, but there it was.  It was
more obvious today - he was definitely flirting.  Cool.  I mean, not that
I was interested, but it's always kinda cool to know that someone is into
you.  Davey noticed too, and he was just a tiny bit possessive.  I liked
that too.  It wasn't anything too over the top, but he was bit more
obviously being my boyfriend.  He made me smile on the inside, as well as
on the outside.

An hour later, I had bags full of new shirts and trousers, as well as
another pair of shoes.  And a date with Gavin if I'd have wanted it.  He
had all but given me his address and phone number before I had to stop
his rather enjoyable attention and point out that Davey was my boyfriend,
and I wasn't interested.  I've never had to do that before - turn someone
down like that.  And the thing was, I really liked it.  In fact, I loved
telling that shop lad that Davey was my boyfriend.  No - you can't have
me because someone else already does - and I love him!  Not that I said
that, obviously.  We got some lunch in town before heading home to pick
up Scarlett and go to the park.  But she wasn't the only one waiting for
us.

I was expecting Jen to still be around, but she was looking pretty
worried when she opened the door.  Davey had started to ask her what was
up, but my stomach had already dropped through the floor and was
threatening to come back up with my lunch when the two Police guys
stepped out of the Kitchen and in to the hallway.

"Good afternoon Mr.Richardson."  I looked to Davey, and he was as much at
a loss as me.  But I guess I knew better - the Police turning up was
never a fucking good thing.

"Hey"  I said, considering my options for running.  The door was still
open, and I hadn't noticed anyone waiting outside.  I could easily make
it around the corner before they got anywhere close, and then I could
lose them no problem.

"Could we have a word?"  Like I had some fucking choice?  Why dod they do
that?  Like they're asking you a favour or something.

Deciding that running was probably a bad idea - whatever they wanted it
would look bad - we sat in the lounge.  It was a terse exchange - as you
might imagine, I'm not ever so fucking friendly with the Police.  And
now, it seems that Mark was going to press charges for me assaulting
him!  The fucking bastard!  Apart from there not being any real case to
answer, of course I suppose I would fucking think that, if I get
prosecuted again I'll be straight back inside.  I answered their
questions, and gave them my side of things.  Davey was able to add to and
clarify most of what I was saying, and also pointed out that there was
CCTV at the bar, and several staff who also saw the whole thing.

Jen stayed out of the way in the kitchen, but I know that she heard the
whole thing.  Fuck, fuck, and fuck.  It was suddenly like nothing had
fucking changed.  Well, except of course, I was now looking a whole lot
better, living in a nice place, with an amazing fucking
awesome boyfriend.  OK, so maybe a few things had actually changed.  As
soon as the Police left, Jen made a discreet exit, which I was very
grateful for.  For whatever fucked up reason, I really couldn?t
face seeing her never mind talking to her about what had happened.  I
didn't like the idea that she even knew what had happened, like I'd let
her down or something.

We took Scarlett out to the park, just later than planned, but I wasn't
really enjoying the walk and was pretty uncommunicative.  At least, I
wasn't saying words.  I guess there's a lot of ways for someone to see
how you're feeling without you having to actually say stuff.  I was
totally pre-occupied by all of the possible repercussions of Mark
pressing charges.  There was just no way I could handle going back to
prison.  Eventually I started to talk to Davey about it, and as nice as
he was - no, that's unfair, I know he really cares, he can't make this
better.  He didn't seem to want to talk about the possibility of me going
to prison again, and what that would mean, and how it would work,
and whether or not he'd still be here for me when I came out again.  I
suppose I can't blame him for that though, it's a pretty fucking
messy situation.

Back home, Scarlett is sleeping, and I'm not feeling any better.  I
decided I needed to go for a run to try and sort my head out a bit.  At
least, that was the option I thought I would try first.  What I was
really focussed on was something entirely different, but I didn't want to
go there, not with Davey at home.  It feels like the last secret I have
from him, and even then,  it's not really a secret I suppose, it's just
something I've never talked about.  OK - so perhaps I've deliberately not
talked about it.  He's obviously seen the scars on my body, and many of
them really are from fighting, blades usually.  But there are
others.  The thin, almost parallel lines in groups of five or six, mostly
on my lower arms.  It's amazing how many people will look and ask me
about my tattoos, and the bigger scars, and then pretend like the don't
see these ones.  Sometimes I'm happy to play the game and let them avoid
the truth, and sometimes it makes me really fucking angry.  It's all part
of me, you can't just pick the good bits, or the pretty bits, or the bits
you want.  Fuck.  I know it will make me feel better, there's nothing
like it, ever, anywhere.  But then there will be the inevitable guilt
about doing it, and the overwhelming shame of having Davey see me like
that.  And I also just didn't want to.  Well, I feel like I really
fucking desperately want to, but my head doesn't agree.  And I know for a
fact that there aren't any razor blades.  Maybe I should pick some up,
you know, for emergencies.  Anyway, running is the next best thing that
I've found.

In reality, I was doing neither, but pacing around the bedroom and
getting more tense every minute.  Davey came in, and gently guided me in
to getting changed and pretty much pushed me out the door.  I guess he
could see I needed to clear my head a little.  Five or six miles later
and I maybe it was working.  I knew that I couldn't do much to control
the whole assault charge problem, but I suppose I can try and get on with
the rest of my life on the off chance that it doesn't all go to shit in
the next few days.  After all, I'm starting my job tomorrow.  I was about
to say 'new job', but having never really had a proper job before, that
doesn't seem right.

By the time I got back home, Davey seemed a little different.  It seems
he'd been doing some thinking too.

"Cal, I know I can't make this all go away, and I don't even know if I
can make it better.  But if the worst happens, and I don't think it
will..."

"Davey, it's cool, let's not worry about it."  Not being certain on where
this was going, I didn't really want to carry on this conversation.  I
suppose that I didn't want to consider those options any more than Davey
did.

"No, I need you to know.  If you end up back in prison, you'll still be
my boyfriend, and I'll still be here.  I don't think it will ever happen,
but if it does, nothing else changes."

I think that my next New Year's Resolution might be to fucking cry less!
But right at that moment, I couldn't help it.  Davey was hugging me so
tight, and I was crying like a fucking child.  After a few minutes, I
reluctantly pulled away to get a shower and change.  Neither of us were
bothered enough to cook, so Davey ordered take-away curry.  Somehow, the
day had been massively exhausting, and by 9.00pm I was falling asleep
with my head on Davey's chest.  Whatever happened, I still had a pretty
nerve shattering day to go tomorrow, my first day at work.  Davey carried
me to bed, and it didn't seem long before I could feel him next to me.
My little bit of perfect, Davey's arm around me, holding me tight against
his amazing hairy body, the two of us hidden from the world outside by
the duvet, and protected by Scarlet who was inevitably sleeping just
outside the door as she seems to do now.