Sebastian Sanspere - 8. Constantine & Guapo, Rex & Fee, Desolé & herself

No one was home when Sebastian arrived, so he showered, did his homework, and after putting together an appetising sandwich, made a casual circuit of the garden. Apparently distracted by his chewing, he surreptitiously worked out where a camera must have been to take the photos of him and Guapo beside the pool. A sprinkler at edge of a flowerbed seemed larger than normal. He felt the soil nearby, nodded his head as if deciding it needed watering, then turned on the sprinklers and wandered back to the pool, unaware that no water spouted from the suspicious sprinkler. After a dip in the pool he turned the sprinklers off, then settled in the lounge to watch TV News.

At half past seven Desolé arrived looking harassed. Sebastian looked up with an easy smile.

‘You look exhausted, Mum, you work too hard. Sit down and I’ll get you a drink.’

Wordlessly she sank into an armchair, accepting the large gin and tonic with a pathetic sniff.

‘Where've you been? And where’s Guapo? I was going to play chess with him tonight after he beat me yesterday. I reckon Jack’s working him too hard after our hike last weekend. I know it took it out of him.’

‘What happened up at Mr. Farzdbuk’s place?’

‘Nothing. We had a much needed shower after wading through a swamp. Then Farzdbuk asked Guapo to keep a bloke company, but he said he was too tired, apparently. I wasn’t there.’

‘Did Guapo say anything else about it?’

‘Nope. Then Mr. Farzdbuk came out to see us off. He was very pleasant. I didn’t realise he was such a great guy. We had a fantastic weekend, thanks to him. Guapo told him again that he was really grateful to have been rescued and patched up for nothing in the hospital, and felt bad at disappointing him, but he really was on his last legs by then.’

Desolé was silent.

‘What’s this all about? Where’s Guapo? Has something happened to him? Come on Mum, I really like that guy.’

Desolé shook her head irritably. ‘No, dear, nothing’s happened. It’s just that a job came up sooner than expected so Guapo had to leave suddenly. That’s all.’

The lie was blatant – but that wasn’t unusual. What was seriously unnerving was his mother calling him ‘dear’. That meant she was planning something involving him. He concealed an involuntary shudder with a shake of his head as if confused. ‘Did he leave a note? How can I contact him? He wouldn't just leave without leaving a note at least.’

‘Well, it looks as if he did. Just like all those other boys. No gratitude, that’s the trouble with the world. It’s all take, take, take, but never give anything. I’ll ask Mr. Farzdbuk next time I see him if he has a contact address for you.’

‘Thanks, Mum. That’d be great.’

Pleading exhaustion, Desolé went to her room. Sebastian watched a video of the State wrestling finals, then stood for some time outside looking at the stars. When he finally got into bed he took great care not to look as if he was aware of hidden cameras. However, knowing he was probably being watched by dozens of heavy-breathing sex-starved voyeurs was rather amusing, so to give thanks for Guapo’s escape, before switching out the light he provided a stellar performance.

As soon as Sebastian left the wrestling room, Con drove his car from the car park to the quadrangle, where a door led directly to the main staircase. The school was deserted, but even so he checked the way was clear, then led Guapo in his towel to the car, buried him under a blanket in the back, locked the door to the wrestling room and drove sedately to his house in a beach suburb about five kilometres north of the city. After parking in the garage, he lowered the doors before Guapo clambered out and was led inside for a much needed shower, food and rest.

Suddenly nervous and unsure about the wisdom of bringing a stranger home and promising to protect him, Con spent some time cleaning the kitchen, preparing something to eat and inventing unnecessary tasks. Unable to delay it any longer he stood at the door of his bedroom and marvelled at the young man sprawled over the bed, snoring lightly. He tiptoed over and lay carefully beside him. Guapo woke and stretched out a hand, stroking Con’s cheek.

‘You’re beautiful.’

Con blushed and shook his head.

‘You are beautiful and incredibly generous to take me in.’

Con’s smile was uncertain. The feelings that had prompted him to invite Guapo to stay had vanished and he was unsure if he still wanted it. What the fuck had made him kiss the bloke and stroke him like a love-sick poof? What must old Noall be thinking! He blushed in shame. What if it was all a mistake? Bloody Sebastian, he thought, when he’s there everything, no matter how bizarre or unusual, seems normal and sensible. With Sebastian there are no worries or fears, you feel able to deal with whatever life throws at you. But Sebastian wasn’t there now and Con wasn’t sure what he wanted, or if what he wanted was a good idea. Or if...

Guapo gazed at his rescuer and realised the problem. He stretched out a hand and touched Con’s fingers. ‘You’re having second thoughts. It’s Okay, I understand. It was all rather crazy and theatrical and we both got carried away. So if it’s Okay with you I’ll just borrow a few clothes and go.’ He sat up.

Panic gripped Con’s heart as the truth of the situation rammed home. ‘No!’ he said far too loudly. ‘No! Don’t go. I want you here! I… I just have to get used to the idea.’

‘What idea?’

‘That I was engaged to a woman this morning, and this evening have a naked, handsome young man in my bed who I don’t want to leave.’

Guapo smiled uncertainly. ‘If you’re certain?’

‘I am, definitely!’

Guapo’s smile morphed into a luminous grin. ‘Then I won’t leave.’

As if controlled by the same puppet master they turned to each other and shared delicate, tentative kisses that became delicate, not so tentative touches. A delicious calm spread over Con that he’d never felt before. This felt right! This was what he wanted and had wasted too many years of his life searching for in all the wrong places, with all the wrong people!

Each explored the other with tongue and lips, fingers and feet, and the intensity grew until the desire to somehow get inside Guapo became an obsession almost as strong as the desire to have Guapo inside him. The second desire won and he reached over to the side table for a blob of the lubricant that had greased his way into his fiancé’s protesting vulva. Taking a condom from the drawer he rolled it onto Guapo’s unprotesting manhood, greased up and straddled the object of his lust. Although he had to stop several times during the descent to wait for the pain to ease, the urge remained strong and soon fifteen centimetres of the man he desired was buried deep within him. He had never felt so fulfilled and sighed in ecstasy.

‘This is what I’ve been missing,’ he whispered with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Real intimacy.’

Unable to believe his good fortune, Guapo ran his hands over Con’s massive chest, flexed his hips and, as if they’d practised, gentle thrusting achieved a natural rhythm until Guapo heaved his hips high and exquisite orgasms engulfed them both.

Lying side by side in silence they dragged still inquisitive fingers over their lover’s chest and belly.

The doorbell rang.

They ignored it.

It rang again, continuously, so Con heaved himself reluctantly off the bed and padded to the door without bothering to cover himself. If Sebastian could do it, so could he. ‘Who is it?’

‘Me, you bastard! You were supposed to meet me in the pub at six o'clock!’

Silence. Then, ‘Hang on a tick.’

He raced back to the bedroom. ‘It’s Margo, my fiancé. What’ll I do?’

‘Do you want to continue the engagement?’

‘Fuck no!’

‘Then put her out of her misery immediately.’

‘But…’

‘Are you the man I think you are?’

Con raced back to the door. Opened it. Margo barged in and he found himself apologising to her back as she flounced along the hallway and into the bedroom, only to flounce right out again.

‘There’s a naked man in your bed.’

‘I know.’

‘And you’re naked!’

‘I know. Come in and meet Henry.’

‘No way!’

Con grasped her wrist, dragged her into his bedroom and sat her on the end of the bed.

Guapo sat up, reached out a hand and said calmly, ‘Hi, I’m...’

‘Henry!’ Con quickly interrupted.

‘So? What’re you doing in Con’s bed?’

‘We’ve just had sex. I’m in love with him.’

Con stifled a shout of joy.

Margo’s eyes grew round and pale. ‘But… Con and I are getting married.’ Her voice was soft and tremulous – a little girl about to burst into tears.

‘Sorry, Margo, change of plan. I’ve discovered I prefer men for sex.’

‘But you can’t! We’ve had good sex.’ A tragic sniff accompanied by puppy dog eyes.

‘You might have enjoyed it; I was bored shitless, whereas with Henry the heavens opened and I was bathed in celestial glory. More to the point, as you heard he loves me and I love him.’

‘But… I love you!’ Anger rather than sad affection was now the dominant chord in Margo’s shout.

‘Then why have you never said so? Why have you never told me I’m beautiful, sexy, handsome, have a great body, that you like my butt, that you love getting screwed by me, that you like my cock? Speaking of which, why don’t you stroke and touch it? Play with it and my balls? Why don’t you take pleasure in my body as well as in the presents you’re always demanding?’

‘You’re disgusting! What a vain creep! Wanting to be admired, to be told you’re handsome! How pathetic.’

‘Yet you want me to tell you all those things.’

‘That’s different—I’m a woman. Men are there to admire, and woman are there to be admired and given presents and be taken care of. It’s the way it always has been and always will be!’

‘Well, obviously I misunderstood the whole male/female marriage caboodle. I made a mistake for which I apologise. Still, better now than after we were married. And thanks to your brilliant analysis of gender differences, I’m now certain I don’t want to live with a woman. I want to share my life with someone who considers my pleasure, my wants and desires, my well-being. Someone who treats me as an equal. Someone like Henry.’ He knelt by the bedside and faced Guapo whose eyes were luminous with delight. ‘If he’ll have me?’

Guapo took Con’s face gently in his hand. ‘Con, I don’t even know your surname, but I know when I’ve met the best man I’m ever likely to meet.’ He dragged Con onto the bed where they hugged and kissed as if alone in the room.

Margo’s eyes were mere slits as she stood and marched to the door, turned and sneered, ‘This is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my entire life! Two naked men kissing as if they’re man and woman. Thank goodness I discovered you’re a queer! I’m going to tell everyone we know! I’m going to tell your school Principal. I’m going to ruin you, Con Achilles! You will live to regret this day!’

Predictable clichés seldom make for grand exits, and this was no exception. No one watched her stomp out and slam the door.

‘Well, that was easy,’ Con said softly, cuddling Guapo in his arms. ‘I’m glad I followed your advice.’

Guapo roared his laughter. ‘Con Achilles! What a perfect name. Are her threats serious?’

‘Hardly. I despise her friends, and you've met the school Principal. So no worries.’

‘Well, what’s with the Henry?’

‘You’re on the run, remember? I’ve no idea who that cow knows. She might be buddy buddy with your captors for all we know.’

Guapo was silent.

‘Sorry to be such a wet blanket.’

‘You're not. You’re right. And such a breath of fresh air you made me so happy I forgot all about that stuff.’

‘A better excuse has never been invented. Are you up to trying that last little exercise again? Con grasped his lovers swelling erection and nodded. ‘Good man!’

Meanwhile in a modest but pleasant house perched on the side of the escarpment overlooking the Great Barrier Reef, Rex Trovert was describing his son to Fee, who had shut down her computer in excitement at the news.

‘A son! Oh Rex that’s so wonderful. How old?’

‘Seventeen.’

‘And you’re thirty-eight, so you were twenty-one when his mother raped you.’

‘Sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?’

‘Not at all! It reflects reality. Just as many men and boys are sexually abused by women as the other way round, but to acknowledge it would undermine the myth that men are the sexual predators and women their prey. If men realised they are but pawns in the game of sex and procreation they’d slit their veins.’

‘You mean we’re wimps?’

‘Useful wimps. Someone has to put out the rubbish and repair stuff.’

Well, at least my son isn’t going to fall into that trap, he's gay.’

‘That’s a relief. Another non-breeder. And he looks like you?’

‘Much more handsome.’

‘Not possible.’

‘And smarter, quicker, braver and more popular.’

‘His father’s son.’

‘And he never wears clothes.’

‘That’s my side of the family. None of my ancestors wore a stitch of clothing before the whiteys invaded. How about school?’

‘In class he wears shorts. Believe it or not he talked old Noall into letting him swim naked at school, and today I joined him and a few dozen others at lunchtime.’

‘Naked?’

‘Yes.’

‘Rex Trovert! I am so proud of you! When can I meet this paragon of perfection?’

‘As soon as you like.’

‘The first time he’s free he must come to dinner.’

‘You’re not jealous?’

‘I’m insanely pleased! We have a child without all the nappy crappy stuff. He’s done all the hard growing up bits, we can just sit back and enjoy the result.’

‘Oh excellent woman.’

Desolé couldn't sleep. Her meeting with Farzdbuk had been frightening. He’d all but accused her of treason; of warning Guapo and telling him to go. In vain had she protested her innocence. She was the gaoler and the responsibility for his escape was hers and hers alone. But both external doors had been deadlocked all night, so even Sebastian hadn't been able to leave until she opened them for him. They were still deadlocked when the van arrived. Unless Guapo could fly, escape over the back fence was ruled out as it was so high and there was a five metre drop to the neighbours below. When questioned, they said they’d been home all morning and seen no one. Furthermore, none of Sebastian’s clothes were missing and Guapo had no clothes, so…

Losing the house would be bad enough, but she knew too much about Mr. Farzdbuk and his business. She was dispensable. She knew that. Certainly, if they didn't find Guapo her usefulness was ended and so, almost certainly, was she.

Perhaps if she let him have Sebastian? He was old enough and very healthy. He’d be worth plenty to Farzdbuk for several years, and then…

She nodded to herself. Yes. That was the solution. She’d bargain to keep the house and income in exchange for Sebastian. Farzdbuk had often hinted that he’d be worth a great deal to him.

Problem solved, she took three diazepam and slept deeply.

Reginald tossed and turned in his bed. Whenever he thought about Sebastian, which was for roughly sixty minutes in every hour, he felt uneasy. Sebastian’s life had always been complicated, but now he sensed it was beginning to run amok. There was a new, brittle quality to his boyfriend’s charm. He was taking more risks, not caring who knew he was gay or saw him naked. His mad mother was even more demented than he’d expected, and the ‘guests’ and Sebastian’s sexual exploits were surely dangerous? The only good thing was finding his father. Reginald decided to speak with Rex Trovert first thing in the morning and share his nebulous fears.

With a possible solution to that problem, Reginald turned his thoughts to Rodney. He had his head screwed on right. He’d know what to do. Reginald would ask his advice when he took Sebastian to the club next Saturday. And he should stay with Sebastian from now on, to guard him. Yes. He’d suggest it at school tomorrow. No, not suggest! He’d tell him it was going to happen, as much for himself as for Sebastian. Reginald needed to get away from his mother whose demands that he join her church were becoming intolerable. His father was no use as he was almost never home, and when he was he kept reminding his son there was no such thing as a free lunch, and an after school job should be considered. All very well for an entrepreneur who could sell gloves to an amputee, but what sort of work was there for a Karate addicted nature freak with an interest in poisonous reptiles and plants?