Prompts in the Wilde - 1. Statue

‘That’s . . . That’s a nice statue.’ Ollie glances up at the thing.

‘Yup, that’s . . . art. Definitely art,’ Dennis agrees. ‘Very . . . anatomically correct. Not that I’m deeply familiar with, you know, that.’

The nude statue stands seven feet tall. Ollie vaguely thinks that the breasts alone must weigh a tonne. It’s a marble monstrosity with long hair and lidded eyes and pursed lips. It’s hard to look away, really. Ollie tears away his gaze all the same and glances at his watch. It’s just gone five.

‘Tell me why we’re here again?’ he asks Dennis.

‘Because art! Culture! We need culture!’ Dennis insists.

‘I get culture . . .’

‘Football and sitcoms do not count as culture, Ollie.’

Ollie sighs and looks around. The British Museum will be closing soon. That at least is a blessing. He likes history and all, and the sarcophagi with the mummies were cool, but there are limits to how many naked statues he can look at in a day and still find it interesting. Dennis is a geek for this stuff, though.

He’s had a good week with Dennis in London. They’ve done all the touristy stuff; Madame Tussaud’s, the Planetarium (Ollie enjoyed that the most), Dungeon, Tower, Kew Gardens . . . Yesterday he stepped on a broken bottle in St. James’s Park and cracked the sole of his shoe. He has a plane ticket back to Edinburgh tomorrow. How weird is it that it’s cheaper to fly than to take a bloody train now?

Dennis is leafing through a pamphlet, trying to find out if there’s anything left to see. Ollie looks at him and smiles. He looks so cute, eagerly studying the page, lips tight together in concentration.

Ollie grabs his hand and pulls him behind the statue to wild protests. Then he presses him up against the wall (there’s not enough room not to) and kisses him, and Dennis’s objections die. Ollie ignores the voice saying, ‘The museum will be closing in fifteen minutes,’ over the PA. Dennis’s lips are soft and his breath is warm, and this is much more fun than a few broken vases and crumbling statues.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing there when footsteps echo down the corridor, and then someone’s shining a torch at them.

‘Oi! What are you still doing here?’ The security guard speaks in a gruff voice and looks deeply annoyed. ‘Museum’s closing. Go on, get out of here!’

Dennis is blushing. Ollie knows he should feel embarrassed, but at the moment he just feels giddy. He takes Dennis by the hand. ‘Sorry mate,’ he tells the guard. ‘We’ll get out of your way.’

It’s raining outside. Ollie steps in a puddle and cool rain water seeps into his broken shoe. It’s all right, though. The tube’s not far.

‘Back to your place, then?’ he asks Dennis, squeezing his hand.

Dennis smiles. ‘Yeah, all right.’