Mike Arram
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Justin turned around slowly. ‘This is a gun,’ the voice informed him pleasantly. ‘It’s real, and I’m quite good wiv it. Though from your point of view, I guess that “good” may not be the word of your choice. Sit down there by the sink and don’t make any sudden moves.’ Justin slid hopelessly down the wall on to his backside. Who was this? Was it the industrial espionage guy again? He doubted it, although he couldn’t make out much beyond the fact that his captor was above average he
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‘You look a bit preoccupied,’ Nathan observed, coming up behind Justin at the bus stop. ‘Do I?’ ‘You alright, Justy?’ ‘Me … sure, fine.’ ‘Whassup?’ ‘Nothing … look, I’ll tell you later, okay? No nagging. I saw what my first stepdad did to my mum to stop her nagging him, so back off.’ ‘Fine. No probs. Here’s the bus.’ During the bus ride, Justin tried not to be moody, but it wasn’t working. By the time they had walked up from the Green to Harlesden
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They woke together again in the cellar to the distant peel of church bells. Justin kissed Nathan and asked, ‘How’re you feeling?’ ‘Bit of a headache, Justy, but I’ll be okay.’ Justin snuggled into his lover’s warm body, enjoying the sensation of safety and peace. Nathan kissed his head repeatedly. He fondled Nathan’s morning erection for a few minutes, then dived down to close his warm mouth on it. He took his time, until eventually Nathan shifted, arched and fountained in his mout
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And there’s lots lots more ...
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Nathan and Justin sketched out their plans while they worked through the afternoon. There could be no delay. Tomorrow would be the big breakout, and Nathan had a lot of instructions to memorise. He was a little awed at Justin’s grasp of detail and decisive planning. ‘Iss me criminal mind, Nate.’ He gave an impish and insinuating smirk that Nathan found a trifle unsettling. Before Mr Anderson came to get them, they checked the cellar window, finding it hidden by a bush from the di
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Nathan’s mouth went dry and his face flushed scarlet. They had been totally caught out. Justin gripped his hand hard, and it was he who responded with a coolness that quite flabbergasted Nathan. ‘Brilliant shower, Mr White.’ Looking closer, Nathan recognised the dazzling face as belonging to someone he had seen on the TV and on billboards: Matthew White, the media presenter and model. The man gave the two of them a sweeping gaze with his profound, dark eyes, then pursed his gorgeou
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Hi Fanlit. Me getting the process of publishing wrong (again). But 2 will be now up, and 3 by the end of the day.
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Justin sat in his plain room at the secure home, to which he had been returned early in old man Anderson’s van, feeling pretty pleased with himself. He savoured the memory of the total shock on Fuckwit Nathan’s face, along with the stunned surprise on that of the stranger. Those two precious little words, spoken in the right company at the right time, had liberated him from slavery in the garden. He replayed Anderson’s conversation with his case officer. ‘Sorry, Tanya. He can abuse the staff
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It was three days before Justin was paired up again with Nathan. In the meantime, he worked patiently and obediently with the other men, if still a little slowly. Mr Anderson was delighted, as was Tanya the case officer, who put it down to the drug. It was a Friday when the van arrived with a beaming Nathan in the front seat. Justin’s heart leaped. The most unaccustomed broad smile appeared on his face, startling Anderson until he noticed it mirrored Nathan’s. Ah … that’s it, he thought.
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HISTORICAL NOTE: The ‘chav’ is very much a British phenomenon of the turn of the millennium: the Burberry baseball cap pitched far back on the head, trakkies (tracksuit) and bling (heavy jewellery). The following adjectives are said to apply to most chavs: skiving, drugged out, drunken, homophobic, randy, dysfunctional, thick. These days the chav phenomenon is seen more as a stratagem of the political elite to demonise the working class. But in the poetry and music of The Streets, and in gay fan
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Fear not. This is a series and one day Oskar finds his special guy, someone he can meet on his own terms.
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Hah! You noticed the changes. I wondered if readers would. Thanks for that.
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Thanks OD. Enjoyed your company.
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Oskar regarded them with a quirky smile. ‘You should both close your mouths. You look stupid.’ Will launched himself at Oskar and clamped on his lips, where he was freely welcomed. ‘Oi! You foreign blokes!’ shouted the landlord. ‘We don’ do that sort of thing in ere. There’s a gay pub down the Holloway Road.’ ‘Sorry!’ Will shouted back in accented English. ‘It is a custom where we come from.’ ‘Well fuck off back there!’ ‘With pleasure.’ They left sniggering. Outside, F
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‘Gorgeous ring!’ gushed Melanie. ‘Is it real?’ Will turned it on his finger, getting used to its massive armorial bezel, the lion and roses sculpted magnificently in hard gold. ‘It’s the most real thing I have ever possessed,’ he answered cryptically. ‘Eh? What does that mean?’ ‘Never mind. We received permission to proceed from the countess, who is the legal guardian of the present prince.’ ‘Great. Next stage then. We need to line up talking heads and cast Rothenians
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In the end, Will moved in with Felip, who had taken a good apartment in the Old City in the days when he had plenty of money. It was a modern complex on the riverside bluffs of Strelsenern Anhöhen, looking south over the New City. They couldn’t have done better. The bedroom had a beautiful view towards the Rodolferplaz and the palace. There was a balcony to sit out on, a study, a lounge, big bathroom and kitchen. Although Felip had pawned some of his furniture and possessions, they got t
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Nice. ‘Ahoi’ In this reading is a Rothenian greeting. There’ll be some Rothenian phrases in the story, and translations will be offered usually.
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One day in March, when Will came in for work, he found Matt already in the office, looking over the files. ‘Morning, boss.’ He got back that glorious smile which always turned his legs to pink jelly. Without any lead-in Matt began, ‘Progress has been pretty good, Will. Now I think we need to get into production with the Elphbergs. I’ve contracted a British production team for June and July. I will be presenter, while you and Melanie will be assistant producers. The director is going to be a
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Terry pulled Will into a taxi. Will looked fixedly ahead as he was driven to Terry’s hotel and booked in. Terry joined him later with a bottle of whisky. ‘It’s as well I was following you, my babe, wasn’t it? Give me the story. I need to know it all, and fast.’ Will stared dazedly at him, then glanced down at the glass in his own hand. He gulped its contents and coughed. He told what he knew, slowly and deliberately, watching the look of compassion grow on Terry’s face. His head w
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‘You should not be so hard on Felip. His problem is that he loves me,’ said Oskar, sadly. ‘That makes it worse. Hendrik knows he does, isn’t that right? He was teaching you a lesson, and using me to do it.’ ‘That’s the problem when you put yourself in the power of men like Hendrik. They use it. Still, there is this. You impressed the crew, who were happy to spread around how you cut Felip down to size. He’s been showing off recently and is not so popular as he was. You’re already a star
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Oskar wasted no time putting his plan in motion. Falkefilm had offices and studios on the Rodolferplaz, the top floors of a big, art deco building on a corner the great square’s east side. It was a prime site, good evidence to Will even in his state of abstraction that Hendrik Wilemmin had rather more business interests than just Falkefilm. The ground floor of Rodolferplaz 12 was organised round a superb pasacz, or arcade, of smart shops and cafés, the Leuwen Pasacz. Huge stone art-deco l
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First thing on Tuesday morning, Oskar made a call to the clinic. Will, lying back in bed stroking Marietta, saw him go tense. Will’s heart lurched, and he was not reassured by Oskar’s look when he turned around. ‘So now the athlete’s foot makes sense,’ Oskar swore. ‘Will, how does your glans feel?’ ‘OK, well, a bit reddish and sore round the rim, and my foreskin’s a little puffy, but no problem. Just too much sex, I guess.’ ‘Will, I have what we call in Rothenian “vyrfebr”. I do not
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Oskar is a true puzzle. That he is, though not to himself, and that's where the blade cuts. A prince has his own morality and Chapter 13 reveals the principle that powers Oskar, though it will cost him dear.
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As promised, Josep had Will back on his examination couch again on Monday. Looking pleased at the progress on Will’s shoulders and abs, he prescribed more of the same. ‘But you are so pale, you English boys. No wonder your vitamin levels are so low. Which reminds me.’ Will felt the thin stab of another injection in his bum. ‘Thirty minutes a day in the ultraviolet cabin from now on.’ The working out continued. Afterwards, as they undressed to use the tanning rooms, Oskar looked askance at W
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Will and Fritz walked almost to Terlenehem, but the boy was reluctant to go into the town. Instead, he guided Will back along the river bank to his home, the two of them chattering merrily all the while. Fritz’s English was remarkably good for a twelve-year-old, and they swopped words for things such as trees and plants. Will’s vocabulary was swelling like corn in summer. None of it was dropping out of his memory, either. His brain seemed to have decided that acquiring Rothenian was its t
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