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    Dodger
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
Contains occasional references to alcohol and drug abuse.

The Church and the Tradesman - 7. The Kiss

“I’m warning you, Tyrone, stay away from me.” My voice though was hardly intimidating and closer to a whisper than a threat.

He shuffled a little closer and I tensed up ready to defend myself against the bluest eyes that I had ever seen.

He was too close; close enough for me to smell his deodorant, close enough for him to bite me again if he wanted to, and close enough for him to lean forward and kiss me on the lips.

‘SHIT’!

It was just a peck, nothing to get excited about. It didn’t mean a thing. I would kiss the doorman at the church in the same way. In my other world, it was often merely a substitute for ‘hello’.

This was not my other world though, we weren’t at the church and he wasn’t the doorman. I was Andy the plumber, I was still at work and it was Tyrone Spencer, who had just kissed me.

He stepped back quickly to wait for my reaction but he didn’t look the slightest bit apprehensive, in fact, he was smiling.

‘Maybe Bob’s right about him after all’.

The thought of Bob figuring out the little brat’s sexuality before me, bugged me, but I was certain that he wasn’t trying to make a move on me. That would be crazy; he was a pop star and besides, he had been trying to fight me all day.

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” I said, but he shook his head.

“You're gay.”

“Err…hello, excuse me, you're the one who just kissed me. And even if I was gay then what the fuck! You don’t just go around…kissing people who you happen to think…oh, whatever. Anyway, you got it wrong because I’m not gay.”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, and he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know you are.”

I must have looked panicked as I tried to figure out what it was that could possibly have given me away, but he seemed to find the whole thing highly amusing.

‘It’s just a game, he doesn’t know about me. There’s no way that he can know anything’.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but don’t involve me in your silly little games. I’m not one of your bloody groupies, okay.” I turned to go back to my work. I still had to connect the broken radiator so that we could get out of there and he was holding me up with his stupid pranks.

“You liked it though.”

This was completely bizarre. I knew that no one would ever believe me if I told them. I wasn’t even sure if I believed it myself. I was dumbstruck and shook my head as I began re-connecting the old thermostat valve to the pipe. The kid had me baffled from the very beginning, but I never expected this.

“Liked what?”

“When I kissed you; you liked it, I could tell.” He was standing right behind me so I stood up and turned to confront him, laughing.

“You kissed me? Oh my God is that what you were doing? Tyrone dear, my granny gives me kisses like that at Christmas….!” That probably wasn’t a good idea. I even knew it at the time. It was wrong of me to goad him and stupid of me to do it in that way. I was far too camp. This wasn’t the church; I never talked that way at work.

Those comments were all the encouragement that he needed. They were like a red flag to a bull and before I could even think about what was happening he was flush against me, his arm around my back and his lips covering mine.

Tyrone may not have been the Karate Kid, but he wasn’t slow either, giving me little time to react even if I had wanted to, and for some reason, I didn’t.

This wasn’t good. I was staring at his clean-shaven cheek, hoping to see some sign of a stubble or anything that would have proved his age. Jazz had told me that he was eighteen, but to me, he looked like a kid and behaved like a baby.

His silly gold earring was gangling in front of my face and he was kissing me as if he knew what he was doing. His tongue was in my mouth and his hand was in my hair, holding the back of my head and pushing my face into his.

Worst of all; I was allowing him to do it. I was willingly co-operating with this crazed kid, even kissing him back and it was Tyrone who eventually broke the kiss, parting with a teasing smile, leaving me gasping for breath.

“Does your granny kiss you like that?”

“No, she’s been dead since I was four,” I said and he laughed as I ran my fingers over my lips to check that they were still there. My mouth was numb and there was a strange taste in it that wasn’t mine. The last time I felt that way was when I had my wisdoms out.

A lot of work went into that kiss but he was undeniably good at it. I was shell shocked, dazed and uncertain of what I should do. I wanted to carry on and the way that he was standing there suggested that he did too.

‘There’s no way that was a joke; people don’t kiss like that for a joke. Jazz is never going to believe this…not ever’.

“I told you,” he said nonchalantly.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I said licking my lips, but it was such a ridiculous thing to say that I almost joined him in laughing at myself.

“Yeah, right.” He laughed and walked away into his en-suite bathroom, probably to wash his mouth out. I was left staring at the wall, wondering what had just happened and more importantly, why?

I had to calm down and think straight or I was going to start hyperventilating. Tyrone Spencer was attractive for sure, but he wasn’t the kind of boy who I would usually go after. He was good-looking but more cute than handsome; a pretty boy with perfect teeth and radiant blue eyes. The stock-in-trade for any boy pop star and perfect eye-candy for his pre-pubescent teenage fans.

When the pin-up boy returned, I was still in the same place, staring at the same piece of wall. He looked surprised as if he had been expecting me to leave. Then he started giggling.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“Yes, you are.”

He spun around and held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I am laughing at you, happy now?”

“No. Why did you kiss me.”

He sat on his bed and his giggle turned into a full-blown laugh. “Is it still bugging you?”

‘Is he really expecting me to forget all about it’.

“I just wanna know.”

“Because I wanted to prove a point.”

“You kissed me…like that, just to prove a point? Prove what point?”

“To prove that you're gay, of course.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me.”

He thought about it. “Okay, are you gay?”

“NO!”

“That’s why I didn’t ask you,” he said. “I knew that you wouldn’t tell the truth.”

Talking to Tyrone was taxing, everything about him was hard work. He never seemed to take his foot off the pedal. He was full of bullshit, but this time he was absolutely right, although I would have preferred to have died rather than admit it.

My eyes followed his slim shape as he walked across the room to get a drink from the well-stocked mini fridge.

“Would you like a soda or whatever you guys call it over here?”

I could have done with something a little stronger and I shook my head.

“Why did you want to know?”

“Duh, you looked hot like you need a drink, that’s all.”

“No, why did you want to know if I was gay?”

“Why do you think?”

“Will you stop answering my questions with another question?”

“Why?”

“Bollocks to you, I think you're crazy.”

“No, that’s the wrong answer, but if you wanna know the truth; I just kinda felt like kissing you, that’s all. No big deal, I thought that you’d probably like it.”

I couldn’t figure out if he was a fool or a genius, but he was definitely brave. No doubt about that. I would never have done anything like that to a complete stranger, even if I knew for a fact that he was gay.

“Just because I’m gay, it doesn’t mean that I have to like you.”

“But you do though, it’s obvious…I’ve seen you looking at me.”

“When?” I scoffed.

“Since you got here this morning.”

I had been watching him, but mostly because I didn’t trust him not to bite me or try to fight me. I was more wary of him than attracted to him. He pulled up a chair and turned it around to sit on it facing the wrong way, with his arms resting on the back. He licked his lips and combed his hair with his fingers before flashing me a trademark smile. Even this late at night he still looked nearly perfect, almost pristine and I wondered how he managed it.

“And you're still doing it.”

“What?”

“Staring at me. Hello.” He was waving his hand at me to get my attention. “Are you still with us?”

“No,” I was lost in the world of Tyrone Spencer. His eyelashes were far too pretty for a boy and his high cheekbones made him look a little too feminine for my liking but his lips were one of his best assets, big, juicy, and ultimately inviting.

I shook my head to bring myself out of my daydream.

‘What the hell’s going on with me. I’m no better than those stupid girls at the gate. He kissed me so fucking what. Get a grip; I’ve kissed boys before, plenty of them and done a lot worse than that. It doesn’t mean Jack Schitt; it was only a kiss. A very erotic kiss, admittedly, but just a kiss, nothing more’.

“Do you do that to everyone you suspect of being gay?”

“No, only certain guys…and I know you liked it.”

“How did you know?”

“Ha…it was fucking obvious man. You were kissing me back.”

“No, I fucking wasn’t.”

“Yes, you fucking were.”

I was denying the bloody obvious and he knew it too.

‘I allowed him to do it. I could’ve pushed him away. I didn’t have to just stand there like a fucking plonker. No wonder he’s laughing at me’.

The game was obviously up, as far as my sexuality was concerned and I had to admit—if only to myself—that I enjoyed kissing him. I was ready to go another round if he wanted but there was no way that I was going to put myself out there for him to shoot me down in flames.

I needed to know what had tipped him off so that I could put it right and stop anyone else from finding out.

“Err…okay. What I was trying to say was, how did you guess in the first place?”

“Oh my God, it’s pretty obvious that you're gay.”

“No, it isn’t! That’s rubbish, no one knows.”

“I do.”

“How?”

“Because it’s obvious.”

“Well, nobody else has managed to work it out.”

“I bet they have, they probably just don’t wanna say anything.”

“That’s not true.” I knew that he was playing with my mind but something had to have given me away. It wasn’t just a random guess. Things would have to change and quickly. I needed to overhaul the whole system and work out what I was doing wrong before anyone else found out. If they hadn’t already.

I thought that I was smart. I had spent years fooling everyone, and not a single person in all that time had ever questioned my sexuality, even when it would have been easy to do so. So effective was my cover story that I even believed it myself. I had two separate lives, a real-life Jekyll and Hyde, and the only person who was allowed into both was Jazz.

This was a wake-up call if ever there was. I hardly knew this boy, but somehow he knew me and knew me better than anyone else, except my best friend, or at least the important stuff. The really important stuff that even my mother didn’t know about after twenty-one years.

“You're just trying to wind me up…it’s a game to you, isn’t it?”

“That’s right, it was just a lucky guess.”

“You're bored, so you play with people like it’s some kind of weird game. It’s just a way of keeping you amused when you're away from home.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Are you bothered by it?”

I was fuming but I didn’t know why. “Of course it bothers me.”

“Why?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at me, making me nervous. “Why would it bother you so much if it was just a game. It’s not like I’m gonna out you to your boss or anything. So I guessed that you're gay, so what?”

“You're a jerk.”

He shook his head and smiled at me, then pulled the top blanket off his bed and wrapped it around his shoulders.

“It’s getting kind of cold in here don’t you think? I wonder why that is? Oh yeah, you still haven’t managed to fix the radiator, have you. How long has it taken so far?”

‘Shit! The radiator. I need to put the old valve but on before it thaws’.

I should’ve done it straight away; it was his fault for distracting me. Now I had to go back to work. I was tired and confused; my head was spinning and the very last thing that I wanted to do was to start work again. If I didn’t though, I would have a disaster on my hands. I needed to concentrate.

- 1 am -

It should have been an easy job; just ten minutes but I couldn’t think straight, and he was still in the room watching my every move from the safety of his bed. I dropped the wrench and swore under my breath, then forgot to uncap the radiator as I lined up the valve and had to start again. My head was spinning and all I could think about was him.

‘What made him think that I was gay and why did I let him kiss me’?

Those were the two questions that I couldn’t answer, no matter how hard I tried.

As I tightened the last nut my hand slipped and I bashed my knuckles on the side of the radiator. I lost my temper and lashed out in anger punching the wall and hurting myself even more. Then as I nursed my wounds I could hear him laughing behind me and I spun around on my knees to glare at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“You,” he said, “You're funny.”

“Do you always laugh when someone hurts themselves?”

“That wasn’t an accident, you hit the wall on purpose. I saw you.”

“Why are you watching me?” I said. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something, catching up with your beauty sleep?”

“Nope,” he said. “Besides, this is more fun.”

“Not for me it isn’t. Anyway, it’s finished. I can’t do any more now until Monday. I’ll be back then with a new thermostat valve. It should take less than an hour. Then you can have your room back.”

He clapped and gave a mocking cheer. “You sounded very professional then Andy; almost as if you knew what you were doing. You had me fooled.”

“Very funny,” I mumbled as I started putting the tools away. Then I noticed something in the tool bag and walked over to hand it to him. “Would you be able to sign this for me Tyrone?”

He looked me in the eyes and chuckled as he took the pen. “No problem. What do want me to put? To Andy from Tyrone?”

“No, just your signature. It’s the fucking job sheet you prick! I need to give this to my boss.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and looked as if he was ready to fight me again as I laughed at him. He wasn’t going to have it all his own way.

“I’m not signing this,” he said. “It says here ‘a satisfactory job’, I’m nowhere near satisfied with your work.”

I took the sheet back from him; it didn’t matter that much, I would get Mrs Dewsbury to sign it on Monday.

“I didn’t think you would; I bet it takes a lot to satisfy you, Tyrone.”

“More than anything you could do,” he snapped back staring at me.

“More than anything I’d wanna do.”

He snatched the sheet back and scribbled his signature on the dotted line. “There! Now you can go back to your sad little life and leave me alone.”

“My life isn’t sad Tyrone, You're the sad one.”

“I can do whatever I want?”

“No you fucking can’t, you can’t even leave the house. I’d hate to have your life. I’d hate to be you. You…you…you…what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t touch me.” I tried to pull my hand away as he brought it up to his face but he had a firm grip on it with both hands.

“I’m just looking,” he said. “You cut your knuckles when you punched the wall didn’t you?” He spoke softly as he studied the damage and I didn’t try to take it back, even though I was certain that he was setting me up to make me look stupid.

It was a game; I was now sure of it. He wanted to lead me on, knowing that I liked him, then he would tell me that it was a big joke and leave me feeling like a total loser. I needed to get out of there, as far away from this kid as possible.

“I have to go,” I said.

“You should get it seen to,” he said but he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he started rubbing my palm with his thumb, setting off alarms all over my body and making me blush as looked into my eyes. He was so good at it and I had to look away but I didn’t try to move.

“Tyrone…I…I don’t think this is a good idea…I…your hand is so smooth. Have you ever done a day’s work in your life?”

He laughed. “Wow, that was unexpected. No, actually nothing physical,” he said, “but I can tell you have though.” He let go of me to place both hands on my shoulders massaging the bottom of my neck and then moving down in slow, wide circles across my chest. “You need to relax, you're too uptight.”

I needed a lot of things and although I was certain that I wasn’t going to get anything from him, my body was thinking otherwise.

If this was a joke or some kind of trick that he was playing on me, then I had to admit he was bloody good at it. Never mind the Brit Awards, this kind of acting would have won him an Oscar, I was sure of it. If indeed, he was acting.

It seemed very unlikely when he put his arms around my shoulders, smiled and kissed me again.

‘The little fucker’.

He had no idea what he was doing to me, or maybe he did. He was pressing himself right up against me and he would have definitely felt a reaction down there. It would have been impossible; it was pressed against his stomach.

I was now kissing him back for sure; it would have been rude not to. My hands also got involved snaking around his surprisingly firm back. I don’t know what I was expecting him to feel like but he wasn’t as soft and cuddly as he looked and as I pulled him even tighter towards me there was a definite and quite profound lump pressing against my leg.

He broke our kiss to look at me wide-eyed, and quizzical.

“You're kidding me right?” He smiled and then reached down between us. It was a little crude but nothing that he did would surprise me. I felt his hand in my trouser pocket.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, but there’s something very hard digging into my leg.”

I could have said the same, but when he held up a wrench, we both fell about laughing.

“I forgot that was there,” I said.

“That’s a big tool you got down there.”

“It’s a twelve incher,” I laughed. “But I rarely use it.”

“I’m not surprised.” He spun around to throw it onto the floor but before he turned back I had my arms around him. I was fairly certain now that this wasn’t one of his silly pranks and this time I wanted to show him that I was able to match his prowess with some smooth work of my own.

It was working and he looked pleased with my efforts until the phone started ringing in my pocket.

“It’s like gone one,” he said as I reached into my pocket.

“I know, it’s probably my friend.”

“I didn’t think it was your boss.”

I was right, it was Jazz again. She was the only person who would call me in the middle of the night. This time, however, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to speaking with her and neither by the looks of it was Tyrone. When I answered; she was pressed against my back with his arms around my waist, kissing my neck.

“Where are you?”

“I’m still here Jazz.”

“Where?”

“At Tyrone’s house.”

She laughed. “You make it sound like he’s your friend.”

I giggled nervously with her as Tyrone licked the back of my neck, making me shiver and gasp.

“We’re getting on a little better now,” I said and jumped as I felt his hand moving under the waistband of my trousers. I slapped it with mine and turned my head to the side to mouth at him to stop. It was getting out of hand, Tyrone was getting out of hand, and Jazz was beginning to get suspicious.

“What are you up to?”

“Working Jazz, that’s all, just working.”

“Andy, have you lost the plot, it’s quarter past one? Why are you still working? We’re supposed to be going out tonight, remember?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten, but I don’t…whoa!”

I was fortunate not to drop the phone.

Tyrone’s hands had found new territory to explore in the form of my buttocks and this time it wasn’t so easy to stop him.

“What do you say?”

“I don’t think that I’m going to be able to go tonight Jazz.”

“What! You're gonna miss church?”

I was finding it impossible to concentrate with a pop star sucking on the side of my face and I let out an involuntary gasp when his second attempt to invade my trousers succeeded. His delicate hand had slipped under the waistband almost unnoticed until it was too late and I didn’t bother trying to resist. Bratty pop star or not, such a blatant and tenacious attempt deserved to be rewarded and who was I to deny him his prize.

“I can’t help it Jazz, something’s come up.” It wasn’t really meant to be a joke but my American friend thought it was funny and smiled at me as he kissed me on the side of my mouth and grabbed a handful of my undercarriage. “Ahh!”

“What’s wrong?” said Jazz. She sounded concerned, but I must have sounded much worse, and my voice went up an octave when I attempted to reply.

“Nothing, I’m fine, I think?”

“Are you okay, Andy?”

‘No! Tyrone Spencer is playing with my dick’.

“I need to call you back, Jazz. I’m not feeling good.”

“You’ll feel a lot better when you get to the church.”

“I very much doubt it Jazz. I mean, I don’t think so. Look, you're gonna have to go to church without me.”

I knew that would confuse Tyrone and he stopped his little massage to stare at me with a questioning look. I smiled and looked away, but he was soon attaching himself to my neck again and threatening to suck the skin off my bones.

“Don’t!”

“Sorry?” said Jazz.

“Not you.”

“Sorry,” said Tyrone.

“Who’s that?”

“Shush.”

“Don’t shush me,” she said.

Tyrone started laughing, but Jazz wasn’t amused.

“Who’s with you, Andy?”

“Nobody.”

“Don’t lie to me, I can hear someone laughing…. Oh my God, it’s him isn’t it?”

“No! Look, I’ll call you when I’ve left.”

“Yes it was, I know it was!”

“Jazz please.” I tried to gently push Tyrone off me but he had more arms than an octopus and I knew it wouldn’t be long before his ego took over.

“Does someone wanna talk to me?” he said.

“Oh my God, it’s Tyrone Spencer,” said Jazz. “Let me speak to him?”

“NO!”

“It is him, isn’t it? Don’t lie to me, Andy.”

“Yes,” I said and then held the phone away from my ear as she screamed. Even at arm’s length, she was deafening and he could have probably heard her from China. He let go of me, allowing me to back away and compose myself.

“Let me talk to him,” she ordered and Tyrone held out his hand.

“I don’t mind; give me the phone, I’ll talk to her.”

“NO!”

“Andy, give…him…the…phone!”

“Fine,” I said and thrust it towards his face before stomping across the room.

“Hi,” he said, “Tyrone here, are you Andy’s girlfriend?”

I rolled my eyes as I leaned against the wall to watch him flirt with my best friend.

“I didn’t think so,” he said and he looked over and winked at me with a smarmy smile that I wanted to wipe off his cute, pretty, adorable, sexy, little face.

Jazz could talk for England if she was in the right mood and I had a funny feeling that she was, so I left Tyrone to a fate worse than death and headed for the loo.

For a second, it looked as if he thought that I was leaving, because he covered the bottom of the phone and mouthed. “Where are you going?”

Wild horses wouldn’t have dragged me away at that point and I held my hand in front of the still prominent lump in my trousers to mimic having a pee. He looked relieved and smiled as he pointed to his en-suite bathroom.

It was a privilege normally denied to anyone working in the house. Before I allowed him to grope me, I would have been forced to walk down two flights of stairs to the grotty old toilet in the basement.

It was my first glimpse of how different and easy my life could be with someone like Tyrone on my arm.

I must have been completely mad to even think in such a way. If I had of possessed the slightest morsel of intelligence, then I would have walked out of that house right then and never returned.


Has starry-eyed Andy fallen for Tyrone’s smarmy banter or is it just a sudden rush of blood to his nether regions? Will Jazz finally get to meet her pop idol, what happened to Bob? And will any of them make it to the church on time?
You may find the answers to some or none of those questions in the next chapter. However, if you enjoyed reading this one, then please take the time to like, follow the story or leave a comment below.
Copyright © 2017 Dodger; All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this chapter, please like, follow the story, or leave a comment below.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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34 minutes ago, chris191070 said:

I hope Tyrone get's to meet Jazz and that they all go to church

That would cause chaos at the venue! It would be a security nightmare. They’d never be able to sneak Tyrone in without the groupies trying to follow!  ;-)

 

 

I like the closeted little jerk even less than I did before! It’s sexual harassment! But of course, his ‘people’ would try to cover it up with a massive payoff to keep Andy quiet. We wouldn’t want the moneymaker’s teenybopper groupies to find out the truth about the object of their affection! Gotta keep the cash torrent flowing!  ;-)

4 hours ago, Wesley8890 said:

I like Tyrone now!!

Tyrone has some serious personality issues, which can be blamed, I suppose on the lifestyle and those around him who pamper to his needs and continuously tell him how good he is at everything. I know why they do this, because confidence and self-belief are important tools for any performer, especially when there's not a great deal of actual talent to fall back on. Maybe Andy will be able to take him down a couple of pegs.

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On 1/9/2018 at 9:53 PM, Dodger said:

…especially when there's not a great deal of actual talent to fall back on.

That even more true now than in the past! There are so many ways to ‘adjust’ vocal tracks on a computer. Things have improved dramatically since the days when Herbie Hancock played with his voice using a vocoder on Rocket Rockit or even when Cher used Auto-Tune on Believe.

 

We know that Milli Vanilli* aren’t the only ones (Mariah, Bieber, Britney, et al) who lip-sync their songs in concerts and other performances.  ;-)

 

 

* Tower Records Upper Market/Castro store labeled the tab for their CDs “(not) Milli Vanilli”!  ;-)

Edited by droughtquake

I love this story. Tyrone is a total riot. What 18-year-old would have the chutzpah to make a move on a stranger of the same sex? Even if his gaydar went off, it's a ballsy move. I read the above comments about this being sexual harassment and respectfully disagree. My take is that Tyrone got an accurate read on Andy's body language and acted on that evidence with a little kiss, just to feel him out. The employer-contractor relationship makes it edgy behavior, though, and I'd see it as more inappropriate if they had a long-term work relationship where Andy was financially dependent. I'm also enjoying the whole mystery of "church." Is this known slang in England, Dodger, or just a word you came up with? 

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1 hour ago, redwood said:

I love this story. Tyrone is a total riot. What 18-year-old would have the chutzpah to make a move on a stranger of the same sex? Even if his gaydar went off, it's a ballsy move. I read the above comments about this being sexual harassment and respectfully disagree. My take is that Tyrone got an accurate read on Andy's body language and acted on that evidence with a little kiss, just to feel him out. The employer-contractor relationship makes it edgy behavior, though, and I'd see it as more inappropriate if they had a long-term work relationship where Andy was financially dependent. I'm also enjoying the whole mystery of "church." Is this known slang in England, Dodger, or just a word you came up with? 

Thank you for your comment @redwood Tyrone, pf course, is used to getting whatever he wants. He's constantly told how special he is and believes it. He plays by different rules, mostly because he doesn't really know how to act normal. His life is actually quite sad, which will become apparent later in the story. 'The church' was the nickname given by patrons of an iconic gay nightclub in Central London, during the 90's. The actual name of the club was 'Trade' and it opened just one day a week on Sunday mornings from 4am until 1pm (whence the nickname). It had a reputation for sleaze and drugs and shunned publicity to protect it's illustrious clientele, which was rumored to include high court judges, and government ministers. It gained notoriety and was eventually forced to close after some high profile drug related deaths. The building has since been demolished but I have met people who were regular patrons of the club in the 1990's who still refer to it as 'the church'. 

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Tyrone seems to have an intuitive sense, especially when it comes to the bifurcated life Andy thinks he has in compartments. A little shakeup is the perfect metaphor to loosen the plumber's grip on fear, for yes, he's afraid at 21 in his day and age to be out even to his mum. Tyron has blown off the bluff, and done it in a hot way. 

 

This chapter is written brilliantly. I particularly like the undercurrent of Andy denying his own attraction, which is a good allegory for him denying his orientation with exclamation points. Maybe both have been playing games, but Tyron was always going to win (like the truth ;)

 

And I should mention, this chapter is hot! (Actually, I'm repeating that it's hot!) All the physicality is done so well and so naturally. It's great. 

 

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