Soul Music: Love Encountered - 8. Developments

“Do you think we can do it again?” Finally, Geoff rediscovered his voice. “I've never, ever been kissed like that before.”

He sounded as though he was still floating a couple of inches off the ground.

Tony resisted the temptation to snigger.

“Yeah. I think that would be possible. Come with me.”

He took Geoff's hand, and led him into the living room. Tony recalled from the afternoon spent there, that the sofa had looked sturdy – well able to accommodate two full-grown men, and whatever they might get upto.

“OK. This'll be better. Let's get ourselves comfortable.”

Geoff sat in what Tony guessed was his usual position. He appeared to be getting ready to watch something on TV. Except for the slightly worried expression on his face, and the fact that he wasn't relaxed. Instead, he was looking at Tony anxiously, as if awaiting direction. Tony could hardly believe how sexually inexperienced his companion was. Yes, of course, he'd been there, but quite a number of years ago. And he'd never been hamstrung by the sort of inhibitions and ignorance he guessed Geoff was struggling with. Now, his exes … Tony shut that line of thought down before it got going. That was totally unfair to Geoff.

He took a moment to turn the main lights off, leaving on only a couple of shaded table lamps. It made the room more cosy, more private somehow. Certainly, a lot less clinical than having the full blaze of the ceiling lights. Tony returned to the sofa, and sat down right next to Geoff, who was still sitting at attention. He put his arm around Geoff, gave him a couple of gentle squeezes, then kissed him on his cheek.

“So you did enjoy it then. I was right, wasn't I?”

Geoff looked up and nodded, shy as ever. “But I don't know how to respond properly. I've only ever had pecks before. From Mum, or other relations. Not … not …”

“Full-on kissing?”

“Yeah.” Geoff now appeared shame-faced at his lack of experience.

Tony gave him another quick cuddle. “Geoff, love …”

A smile in return. “Just you saying that gives me such a tingle. It makes me feel so special.”

“You are. Believe me, Geoff, you are.”

“Would you believe I've never been called 'love' before? Least not in the way you mean it.”

The shame-faced look reappeared. It made Tony sad to think that he was the first to call Geoff, 'love'.

“All that means, love, is that everyone else has missed out on gaining a wonderful, handsome, blushing boyfriend.”

Tony grinned as his companion lived up to the final part of his description, then gave him yet another squeeze.

“Geoff, I don't know everything about making love. Far from it.”

Tony had never been a mentor for one of his lovers before. He anticipated making love to Geoff would be way beyond what he'd had going with his other boyfriends. And, a little to his surprise, he wasn't thinking performance, or size. Not that he'd never been fixated on either of those, unlike some people he could mention. No, mutual enjoyment would be the benchmark, for both of them.

And he felt they were off to a good start. A few simple kisses, and Geoff was on cloud nine. It was certainly getting himself sexually fired up – his nipples were standing proud, rubbing against his t-shirt. Never mind what was going on down below. Well, he'd just have to take care of it when he got home. Sex with his right hand had been the norm since Jake had moved out – he had no time for one night stands, cruising apps, and that sort of thing. There was no way Geoff was ready yet for anything beyond kissing. As he'd said to Zoe, they were taking their time. Yes, some of his friends would think he was cracked. Well, that was their problem, not his.

Tony suddenly realised his thoughts had been wandering. Geoff was still sitting there, looking a little bemused.

“Sorry – so many things to think about. All good, though.”

He gave Geoff another kiss in apology. Geoff was starting to respond in kind, returning his pressure, but Tony still thought that he was holding back. He wasn't going with the flow. Tony cuddled him close, then whispered encouragement in his ear.

“This isn't a test, love. Like I said when you first visited. It's just us two. Exploring, learning, and hopefully, pleasing each other.”

Geoff sighed. “I'm such a stupid lump. Self-conscious 'til my dying day.”

Tony went back to his usual speaking voice. “Geoff? You are not stupid.” Tony waited until Geoff half-smiled in acknowledgement. “We're alone. The curtains are closed. And the neighbours are too busy living their own lives to take any notice. Not that we've been making any noise. They probably had enough of that this afternoon.”

Geoff started to grin. “That's not a nice way to describe VW's music.”

“It is when I'm doing the singing. Though, of course, I exclude the pianist from my comments.”

Amused, Geoff rolled his eyes in silence.

Now he was looking more relaxed. Tony reached out to caress Geoff's cheek, then dragging a couple of fingers down through his beard, before returning to the skin of his cheek. What was it about beards? Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he could scarcely produce an unshaven look, never mind a proper beard. He was lucky facial hair was still in fashion.

“Nice?”

Tony continued with what he was doing. Geoff's breathing almost turned into a purr.

“Sexy? Does it turn you on?”

Geoff frowned briefly, searching for an answer.

“Nice? Oh, yes. Sexy? No … more feeling … cared for, pampered. Why?”

Tony chuckled. More mentoring. “Because I want to learn what you like, what you don't like, and what really pushes your buttons. Those special things which would make you want to go to bed with me. Your erogenous zones, if you prefer speaking 'nerd'.”

“Oh …”

Tony watched as a blush welled up over Geoff's face until he was nearly glowing.

“I've … I've never spoken to anyone about … those. Not sure I know myself.”

Tony gave him another reassuring cuddle. “Then we'll have a lovely time finding them out. And I'll introduce you to mine as we go along. As a start, here's one – my ears, especially the lobes.”

“Ears?”

“Yes. Like to try?”

Geoff's colour deepened. “Err... I'm … not …” His own ears were an interesting shade of crimson.

Tony rescued him. “It's OK. Making out, having sex – they're not dirty, you know. They're fun, pleasurable, and help you to get closer to your partner. Show how much you love them. It might not be a topic you talk about in general conversation, but with your partner, it's a must, really.”

Tony decided the day's lesson had gone on long enough. He could hear himself turning into a therapist, or relationship counsellor.

“One last thing for today.”

“Un-huh?”

“When we do talk about sex, don't be coy. Or think you have to give me a particular answer. OK? If we're trying things out, for god's sake, say if you don't like something. Don't just accept it quietly because you think I'll be offended. Or because I'm more experienced. It's your body.”

Tony gave his boyfriend a playful poke in the ribs to emphasise his point.

“Hey! That's definitely something I object to.”

“Tough.”

Grinning, Tony pushed Geoff sideways to lay him flat on the sofa. Then he started tickling, first under the ribs, then moving up Geoff's torso. Geoff reacted quickly, trying to keep Tony's hands away while also launching attacks of his own. After a few minutes, Tony was gasping with laughter. Then he collapsed on top of his supposed victim, trying to catch his breath. A giggling Geoff didn't help by squeezing him tight.

“Owh! Something's digging into me. A hard plastic … box? What on Earth is it?”

For a split second, Tony had no idea what Geoff was on about. Then he realised – it was his insulin pump, sited currently on his stomach, slightly to one side. After a moment, Tony sat back up on the sofa, leaving a puzzled looking Geoff behind.

“Ah … there's something important you don't know about me, Geoff. I'm a diabetic.”

“What?” Geoff stared wide-eyed at his boyfriend, waiting for a greater explanation.

“So … why haven't you told me about this before?”

Geoff had listened to Tony's explanation of first, diabetes in general, and then the genetic Type 1 in particular. He'd asked the odd question, but had found it a lot to take in. He had no idea Tony was ill.

Tony sighed. Why? For the usual reason.

“Because once someone knows about my diabetes, I become the disease. It's quite difficult for people to separate the two. Geoff, love, I'm still the same person.”

Tony tried to look at Geoff's face, only his boyfriend was hunched up, head down, staring at the carpet. They were still sitting on the sofa, but the atmosphere was much more serious, subdued. He was getting to know that Geoff sort of curled in on himself when he was upset, or thinking hard about something difficult. Better that than the look of astonished anxiety which was Geoff's initial reaction.

Yes, diabetes wasn't a joke, but it was manageable, with care.

“Geoff?”

Dragging himself mentally back to his living room, Geoff tried to stop brooding on what Tony had told him. He moved, stretched his back, then sat more comfortably on the sofa. Geoff noticed Tony looking a little anxious – he was probably still pale, despite having had his head down for several minutes. Tony's matter-of-fact confirmation of his diabetes had been quite a shock. In his mind, diabetes sufferers were all obese, lacking exercise, and with a really bad diet. Not too far away from him. That gave him pause for thought.

“Sorry, Tony. It's quite something to get my head round.”

“And you're only a spectator …” Tony had a wry smile.

Geoff flushed slightly.

“Dear, I was only teasing you. I'm still me – that's the main thing I want you to take away.”

“But what if I'd made the wrong food earlier?”

The worried expression was back.

“If it'd been something bad like … I dunno … a sweet made of nothing but fondant icing, then I would've excused myself. Geoff, diabetics can eat most things, as I said before. I need to eat healthily, but so should everyone else. I've got to be that little bit more careful.”

An over-simplification, but not that far from the truth.

Geoff sat quietly, fingering his belly.

“Mother says I should go on a diet, but I like my food too much.”

Tony smiled at his disgruntled companion. He sniggered to himself. This was an excellent opportunity.

“OK … maybe she has a point. How about you join me? We'll both not consume junk food, cakes, or fizzy drinks. Oh, and we'll also have to give up most of the beer.” Which he did already – he never drank more than the odd pint.

Geoff's face was growing longer by the minute.

“Come on. You'll feel better for it, I won't be a party pooper, and it'll be a whole lot cheaper. Think what you could do with the money you save.”

“But ...”

“I'll even teach you some quick, easy recipes. You can always come round to mine on nights when you can't be bothered.”

Tony leant over, and gave Geoff another of those kisses they both seemed to like so much.

“Then, we might even persuade you take more exercise …”

The horrified look on Geoff's face made Tony chortle.

“Only joking. For now. Look, love, there's a couple of diabetes websites I can recommend. Visit, don't visit – it's up to you. Whatever you do, it won't change my feelings for you.”

Tony stood up, and held a hand out to persuade Geoff to do likewise.

“It's getting late. I'd better be going – we're both working tomorrow.”

Then to his amazement, Geoff made a move, and drew Tony in for a goodnight kiss, and a hug.

His tutee was learning fast.

A little over a week later, Geoff was walking back to the office after lunch in the nearest café. It definitely hadn't been healthy, but he was in need of comfort food. The entire council house workforce had been called to a special meeting that afternoon, and the rumours were not hopeful. The meeting they'd attended in December had painted a bleak enough picture about the council's finances, but nothing on the scale the rumours were predicting this time around. He'd tried not to let it affect his Christmas, but it had. This might be a whole lot worse. Geoff joined his co-workers filing gloomily into the meeting room.

An hour or so later, Geoff stumbled out of the packed workplace briefing. He was shaking from the shock of being told his job would no longer exist in a few months' time. And he was far from alone. How had it got so bad? Everyone present knew that the local authority had to make substantial savings, but this much? Public services still had to function even when the chill winds of austerity were swirling around.

What was he going to do?

“Shit news, isn't it?”

Geoff was so wrapped up in himself, the question made him jump.

“Oh … Hi, Gurpal.” One of his co-workers from the IT unit next door. He was looking angry. “Yeah, I'm feeling gutted.”

“At least there's something you can apply for. Me? Nothing. Why the fuck start outsourcing just at the time when everyone else is bringing tech services back in-house?”

Geoff tried to think of a reply. “Perhaps you could apply to the outsourcing company?”

“Nah. I've decided to set up on my own. Freelance. Or, mebbes invite a couple of the others to join me. Mike and Ahmed might be interested.”

“We've still got some time before we have to decide.”

Geoff had gathered that from amongst the welter of information being thrown at them. The choice? Apply for voluntary redundancy, or try for one of the remaining jobs within the council. Unsuccessful candidates would be made compulsorily redundant. He tried to imagine himself working as a freelance. Never in a million years. The thought of having to interview against people he knew well, was enough to made his stomach rebel.

Gurpal shrugged. “Yeah, we have. But why hang about when it's been made clear that you're no longer wanted? I'm gonna start making enquiries tomorrow about start-ups, and such.”

He mock-punched Geoff on the arm. “See you around, yeah?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Geoff continued on his way out – they'd been graciously given the rest of the afternoon off. Well, he knew what he'd be doing at home – reading the handouts, and trying to reach a decision. The mere thought of it made his stomach roil. If he did apply for something, what were his chances? OK … but nothing more. He worked hard, used his brain, contributed, but Geoff knew he was useless at selling himself. There was nothing more likely to reduce him to a red-faced, stuttering heap.

Would Tony still want him if he became unemployed? That thought was the icing on the cake. Geoff's despondency deepened. Somehow, on automatic pilot, he found himself at his usual bus stop. Geoff put his bag down, and waited, trying not to think, until the next bus came.

Sitting at his kitchen table, Geoff looked at the time. He'd promised his mother a visit that evening – perfect timing. Fucking perfect. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball, and try to keep the world and all its shit at bay. Feeling empty and exhausted, Geoff briefly contemplated phoning his mother with an excuse. No, he couldn't. He owed his mother a visit – the last one didn't happen because Tony had arranged something last minute.

Food? He wasn't hungry. Perhaps when he got back. His mother would try to feed him biscuits, or scones – 'for a growing lad' – while he was there. Geoff decided to make the visit as short as he dared. OK, it wasn't fair on his mother, but he had a hard enough time making conversation when he was happy. Having to avoid mentioning Tony and all they did together, made him watch what he was saying. Add in that day's crap, and he'd probably be more than usually monosyllabic.

Geoff took a moment to consider why he still hadn't come out to his mother. When his father was around, he hadn't cared to. The reaction would've most likely been hostile. Now, with only his mother, the occasion had never quite presented itself. He'd never been close to either of his parents, and certainly, he'd never spoken to them about intimate, sexual matters. Or relationships. As to what his mother's response would be … he wasn't sure. With Tony as his boyfriend, he'd have to bite the bullet at some point and tell her. That was assuming Tony stayed around. Geoff sighed deeply, picked up his car keys, and headed out.

“Mrs Thompson ... You know, lives two doors down … Anyway, she's been put in a home. Saw her daughter the other day, looking round the bungalow. Said she was checking the doors. I think she's got her eyes on some stuff. I don't know …”

Geoff was letting most of his mother's chatter wash over him. He was still very down – he'd tried to cheer himself up a little on the way there, but failed miserably. The wretched work news seeped into everything. As now. He didn't like to focus on his mother's gossip and speculation, but if he didn't, he was back to wondering what the future held for him.

“How's Mr White? … Come on, you must know him – he only lives across the street from you.”

Geoff realised from the ensuing silence that his mother was waiting for something from him. Hastily, he replayed the words he'd heard.

“Err … Mr White?”

He didn't see much of his neighbours. What with working full-time, playing music, and seeing Tony, he didn't have much scope for noting what was happening on his street.

“Are you all right, son? You've hardly eaten anything.” His mother looked pointedly at the heap of uneaten scones.

Geoff forced a smile as his mother continued to wait.

“Sorry, Mum. I'm very tired. It's been a pig of a day.” A slight understatement.

His mother leant across the side table between their two chairs, and patted Geoff on the knee.

“They work you too hard, they do.”

This was a familiar refrain which, that evening, grated on him with a very sharp edge. Well, it might not be a problem for much longer …

Geoff produced another wan smile in response, glad that his mother wasn't pressing him for more of a reply. She seemed reasonably content to have him as company, even if he was an inattentive listener. He decided to give her another twenty minutes or so.

“Any more tea in the pot, Mum?”

Geoff had got his key poised to open his front door, when his phone started ringing. It was Tony. As quickly as he could, he fished it out of his coat pocket. There was nothing he wanted more than to hear Tony's loving, confident voice. Even if it might not be for much longer.

Hello, Geoff. How's your day been?

That was the trigger. Everything about Geoff's day welled up inside him. He had trouble stopping himself from crying.

“It's been completely crap. Awful. I don't know what to do … Tony, I'm going to lose my job.” Geoff stopped suddenly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

What? Where are you, love?

“I'm … I'm sitting on my front doorstep. I was just about to go inside when you phoned.”

A loud sniff escaped.

OK … I want you to go inside. Find yourself an overnight bag, and put in whatever you need for tonight and tomorrow morning.

“But I wouldn't want to …”

What? Bother me? Geoff, love, you're upset, and I think you really need a cuddle. And a good night's sleep.

“It's too much trouble.”

No, it isn't. I'll make up the spare bed. You can sleep there, or you can join me in mine. And before you turn the colour of a ripe tomato, love, sleeping is all we'll be doing. Well … the odd kiss or two, perhaps? I'll come and collect you in … twenty minutes or so? We can talk about your news when you're ready.

A tear or two slid down Geoff's face as he marvelled at Tony's generosity. He felt like a weight had just been lifted off him.

“Yes, please. I'd love that.”