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    Drew Payne
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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. 

A Walk Along the Promenade - 9. Scene Three, A Hotel Lobby on a Summer’s Evening, Part 1

He only made it back as far as the hotel’s lobby before he’d had to sit down again. His damn leg was throbbing so much that each step had become a painful struggle. He had just made it into the lobby before he’d dropped down onto the first empty chair he could find. The large lobby was populated with round small tables, which had semi-circle armchairs grouped around them. The idea seemed to be for the hotel guests to use them for high-tea or evening drinks, but they mostly seemed to stand empty, only used by people who were obviously waiting for someone else or just waiting to leave the hotel. That evening there was barely a handful of people sitting there, and Shaun had no problem dropping down into the nearest empty chair.

The pain was so frustrating. He just wanted to get back to his room and start the whole process of finally ending all this pain and his crippled leg wouldn’t let him. He would have to take the lift up to the second floor, and then a long walk down a winding corridor until he finally reached the safety of his room, and the pain in his leg was too great to allow him to do all that. He didn’t think he could even bear to stand in the lift up the second floor, and he didn’t want to fall over again because that only drew attention to himself. He would just have to sit there and wait for the pain to ease in his leg, again.

He stretched out his left leg in front of himself but even pushing against his stiff knee joint did not ease the pain one degree, as it had previously. Even just a degree of ease from the sharp, throbbing pain in his leg would be something, anything.

“Are you all right mate?” The male voice cut through his thoughts.

Shaun looked up to see a red-haired, muscular man standing over him. For a moment he didn’t recognise the man and then his mind clicked over and Shaun knew who this man was, well something about him. The man was staying in the room two doors down from his own.

“I’m… I’m okay,” Shaun said, though his mouth stumbled over his own words.

“You don’t look it. You look like you’re in real pain,” the man said.

“It’s just my leg, I’ll be okay,” Shaun said, the man’s attention suddenly embarrassing him.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I’m taking pain killers and I can’t drink,” Shaun told him.

“How about a soft drink? I know being a bit dry can make pain worse,” the man told him.

“If you don’t mind,” Shaun said, the man’s offer had made him realise that the inside of his mouth was dry and uncomfortable.

“Of course not,” the man said.

“Let me give you some money for them,” Shaun replied as he tried to twist his body around to reach his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Don’t worry,” the man smiled. “The drinks are dirt cheap in this place. Everything is dirt cheap in this place.”

The man strode quickly away towards the lobby’s bar, which curved around under the once formal grand staircase that still dominated the far end of the lobby. Shaun found himself just watching that man, a sudden distraction from the pain in his leg. The man was handsome, even though he was casually dressed in tight jeans and an equally tight ribbed tee-shirt, under a stylish leather jacket. His body was as tall Shaun’s but much more muscular, the muscles of his arms and legs and torso all pushing out against his clothes, yet the man’s movements were almost fluid and graceful. Not the formal and almost stilted movements of an over-muscled body, the way Shaun had previously noticed muscle-men would walk. The man’s hair was a rich and vibrant red, not the shocking red of poorly dyed hair, and it was cut into a carefully sculpted style. The top of his hair was kept at a medium length, and styled in almost a wave sweeping across the top of his head from a deep parting on the left side, while at the sides and back of his head the hair was kept short, almost a bristling mat of red. The man’s face seemed broad and open, dominated by a wide and smiling mouth, displaying very white teeth, and large, bright green eyes. It was a handsome face that drew the eye back to it again and again.

The man quickly bought two drinks from the bar and returned to the table Shaun was sat at. The man placed a diet coke in front of Shaun and a pint of lager down next to it, before sitting down in the chair next to Shaun’s.

“I’m Harley,” the man said, holding out his hand to Shaun.

“I’m Shaun,” Shaun replied, as he took hold of Harley’s offered hand. Harley’s handshake was strong, his fingers wrapping themselves around Shaun’s hand in a tight and warm embrace, and certainly held his hand far more than the required moment of a handshake.

“Thanks for the drink,” Shaun said, as he took a mouthful of his cold diet coke.

“No problems. I couldn’t just leave you sitting there in pain,” Harley said.

“A lot of people do,” Shaun replied, and took another mouthful of drink. The cold diet coke tasted good and refreshing against his dry mouth.

“God, you needed that,” Harley said, as he took a gulp of his pint of lager.

“I didn’t realise how thirsty I was,” Shaun said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harley replied, taking another gulp from his pint.

“I’m not keeping you from anything?” Shaun asked him.

“I was just going out for a drink on my own. The night life around here isn’t the wildest, I’m not missing that much.”

“Thanks,” Shaun said.

“Do you have anything for the pain?” Harley asked him.

“Yes, but my pain killers are up in my room. I just need to get my breath back and then I can make my way back up there,” he told Harley.

“Do you need a hand getting up there?”

“Thanks but you have your pint to drink,” he said. The idea of Harley helping him back to his room, even as just a helping hand, was certainly attractive but he couldn’t take this man away from his drink and his night out.

“I can finish this while you have your rest, I’m thirsty too,” Harley replied, taking another deep gulp from his drink.

They chatted idly for the next few minutes, mainly about Scarborough and their hotel, while Harley drank the rest of his pint of lager in what seemed like half a dozen deep gulps. Shaun enjoyed the light conversation, though his leg still throbbed with pain, talking to Harley was a distraction that pulled his mind away from that pain, and talking to Harley was so easy to do, the man was such good company.

When he’d drunk the last of his drink, Harley had put his empty glass down the round, little table and said:

“Let’s get you up to your room and your pain killers.”

Harley stood up and Shaun followed him, using his chair and walking stick to leaver himself up into a standing position. He swayed for a moment, as his leg spasmed with a shot of pain, but leaning on his walking stick steadied him.

“Come here and put your arm around my shoulders,” Harley said.

“No need to, I’m good,” Shaun replied. The idea of putting his arm around a handsome man in public, even just for the purpose of stability, filled him with a rush of embarrassment. People would see him being physical with another man, he couldn’t do that.

“Are you sure?” Harley asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Shaun replied. The thought of the embarrassment he’d feel having to physically lean on Harley was pushing him to stand upright.

“Okay then,” Harley replied.

With Harley at his side, they slowly walked across the lobby and up to the hotel’s twin lifts. Walking along side Harley, the way he did whenever he had to walk next to anyone, he was aware of how painfully slow he was walking. Harley didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to say anything, Harley’s slow and purposeful pace next to him said it all, Shaun’s slow pace was holding Harley back.

When they reached the lifts, they found both of them were up on the fifth floor. For a long moment the two of them stood in front of the closed lift doors, waiting for one of them to arrive, as Harley chatted away about how slow these lifts were. Standing there Shaun felt his left leg begun to twitch with pain, those momentary electronic shocks of pain shooting up his leg, telling him that fatigue was taking hold of his leg and all he could do now was rest.

He’d felt a sigh of relief when one of the lifts finally returned to the ground floor and the doors slid open. Before they could enter it, a dozen or so elderly people poured out of it. All of them were brightly dressed, as if ready for a night spent out sampling the delights of Scarborough’s small nightlife. The women were wearing all wearing brightly coloured tops with their faces brightly made-up, the men were wearing loudly coloured shirts and slapping each other on their backs. The group was loud and rushed past them.

As they stepped inside the lift, Shaun noticed that it smelt of cheap perfume and aftershave. Harley had pressed the button for the second floor. The lift started moving with a sudden judder, so sudden as to catch Shaun unawares. As Shaun felt the floor under his feet momentarily shake, he felt his left leg give way from under him. With a shout of surprise Shaun felt himself pitch to the left, pushing his walking stick hard down onto the floor in the hope of stabilising himself, and then his body collided with Harley’s. The next moment Harley’s arm was around his waist and his hand was holding onto Shaun’s right hip.

“Are you okay there?” Harley asked him.

“Sorry, I lost my balance for a moment. It happens a lot,” Shaun explained. “My leg’s so buggered I keep losing my balance.”

“Well, I’ve got hold of you, mate. Don’t worry,” Harley replied.

For the few moments it took the lift to reach their floor, Harley’s hand remained there on Shaun’s hip. Shaun could feel the heat from Harley’s hand through his trousers. He could feel the exact pressure each finger of Harley’s hand was exerting on him. It was an exciting and thrilling moment. He’d not been this physically close to another man in far too long, and in this brief moment he felt that old rush of enjoyment and sexual excitement. He was certain, to Harley this was no more than a simple act of kindness to a cripple, but to Shaun this was the closest he come to physical affection in far too long a time. Then, too soon, the lift stopped, again with another shudder shaking its floor, and the doors opened.

Copyright © 2019 Drew Payne; All Rights Reserved.
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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. 
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Chapter Comments

20 minutes ago, Timothy M. said:

Haley certainly seems like a nice distraction. Let's hope he doesn't leave Shaun right away.

 

To quote the Time Travelling Role Model for us all, Professor River Sung, "Spoilers sweaty, spoilers."

 

I don't want to say what happens, but I've already planned it out.

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Ohh, could Harley simple kindness, be the reason Shaun resolves to live again? And I do mean wholly, as in wanting to put his life back in order. Because, there’s that spark of hope that wasn’t there before. 

Like Tim, I hope Harley hangs around for a bit. 

1 hour ago, Drew Payne said:

 

I don't want to say what happens, but I've already planned it out.

I think by now we know, you’re never going to slip with spoilers. 😀

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I wonder if I am alone in not really visualising Harley, he has been well described, but only his red hair and heavy build stick in my mind. I am very poor at visualising descriptions of people, in any story. 

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1 hour ago, Talo Segura said:

I wonder if I am alone in not really visualising Harley, he has been well described, but only his red hair and heavy build stick in my mind. I am very poor at visualising descriptions of people, in any story. 

Physically he is based on a real guy, but he is a bit of the "ideal hunk". I hope I give him more personality here.

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