They may not mean to, but they do - 24. Twenty-Four

Alison had announced that she would not be at breakfast, she would have it in her room. Keith and Thomas discussed it, but the prospect of the hotel’s well-laden breakfast buffet was too much of a novelty for both. In the end, they ate far too much and after ablutions went out for a walk. The hotel grounds were extensive, so there was a long walk through woodland, and further paths leading off the property were tempting, but they had a timetable.

“Enjoying it?”

Keith nodded, “I like Alison’s idea of meeting up for a meal out at places like this.”

“So, do I, but are you sure you can afford it? Alison might look like a harassed headteacher, but she inherited a share in her grandfather’s factory, the business went tits-up well before I knew her, but she managed to get a house and small nest-egg out of the mess. Alison doesn’t have a mortgage or pay rent; she owns her house outright.”

“Wow!”

“Don’t get me wrong, she works hard, and she needs her salary, but there’s a degree of economic flexibility that you and I don’t have.”

“Still”, Keith grinned, “the odd treat would be nice.”

Thomas put his arm around Keith’s waist, “Agreed.”

They walked on in silence, both thinking about houses with Thomas wondering if he could afford to move out of his brother’s house, and Keith wondering how long Greg and Thomas would let him stay in their flat. Could he afford something else as nice and, in the future, would Thomas want to live with him? Could he live with Thomas?

Keith had never lived with anyone like that. He’d shared houses, of course, but that had usually been with work mates. He and his girlfriend, Maria, had been saving up for the deposit on a flat but they’d not got as far as living with each other. And latterly, the relationship had deteriorated so the moving in together and saving up were more theory than practice.

He’d never lived with anyone he was romantically involved with. And Keith was beginning to realise that he’d never really been romantically involved with someone before. If he allowed himself to be clear-sighted, Keith felt guilty about Maria. There had been little in the way of romantic connection, and to 21-year-old Keith, she had been a useful foil; he needed a girlfriend, Maria fitted the bill and seemed to want him.

But thinking back, even to the good times (and there had been plenty of those), there hadn’t been much of a connection, little in the way of sexual chemistry or intimacy and romance. Knowing what he knew now, about being gay, Keith realised that Maria would have been better as a mate than a girlfriend, but it was too late for that now. The relationship was far too fractured and had to be put firmly in the past. Thomas was the present, and he did so want things to work with Thomas in the longer term but was unsure of the rules.

“Penny for them.”

Keith went a bit red, “Sorry, I was thinking about the flat”, and with that Keith blurted it all out, “I’m worried that Greg and Thomas will want to eventually give it to another lame duck.”

“You’re not a lame duck!”

Keith looked a bit coy, “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Then ask them. Talk to them and say you want to stay and offer them a decent rent. Can you afford something more?”

“I think so, the business is doing OK at the moment, but I worry.”

“Think about now, not later. See what they say.”

“The thing is”, Keith looked a bit embarrassed, “I was thinking that it was a shame the flat wasn’t bigger, then you could move out of Nate’s, and we could, you know”, he ground to a halt.

Thomas stopped dead, so Keith had to turn round and look at him. “Would you want me to come and share the flat?”

“I… I miss you when you’re not there, and it would be nice to wake up every day together’”, he gave Thomas a nervous, lop-sided smile, “But it’s a bit soon, and… Well, I’ve never lived with anyone like that.”

“For that matter neither have I. And I hate leaving. There are two things, do we want to try living together yet, and could we live in your flat? What do you think?”

“My flat’s too small for two of us?”

“Which sort of solves both questions doesn’t it? I agree we’d need somewhere with more space.”

They walked on, aware that they hadn’t quite resolved matters. It nagged at Keith, “I was wondering.”

“Yes?”

“Greg and Thomas’ outbuildings, they’ve been doing them up but I’m still not sure I know what they are going to do with them. I know they planned to rent out studios or something. Say they’ve both been too busy to get things done. I reckon they got cold feet too. Folk do that sometimes.”

Thomas laughed, “Perhaps they don’t know, themselves. So, you think we should ask about them?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“I think I’d like that, living next door to you. We could retire to our own flats when we get bad-tempered.”

“As if I get bad-tempered.” The two laughed contentedly and walked briskly back to the hotel.

-oOo-oOo-

The Spa had its own entrance, with a couple of rooms for relaxing in, a conservatory with an attractive view of the wooded landscape, and a sense of calm that Keith found almost oppressive. He longed for a blast of noise. The young woman at reception showed them to rooms where they could undress and shower. With both too inhibited to indulge in any ‘funny business’ in such a public place, they dressed in their thick white towelling robes and went to the massage room.

Keith was relieved to find it was men doing the massages. He was asked if he wanted to be covered and feeling a little too on-show as it was, opted to have a towel discreetly draped across his midriff. The masseur was a biggish man with huge hands, which proved both powerful and flexible. Keith found the next 45 minutes surprising, there was atmospheric music playing (he’d have been hard put to describe it though), some sort of aroma in the air and that sense of calm. The guy worked him over, front and back, good and proper. Some of it hurt but it was relaxing too, and somehow sensual. Keith didn’t fancy the guy at all, and there was no sense of eroticism in his business-like manipulation, no hint of funny business even with his hands on Keith’s thighs. Yet Keith’s body responded and responded firmly. When he turned onto his back, he was horribly aware that the towel was not going much to hide a rather visible hard-on. The guy behaved as if nothing was amiss, and Keith’s embarrassment evaporated in an aura of wellbeing and relaxation, with the odd twinge when hands plunged deep into his muscles.

Afterwards, when they were decently in the changing room, with the door shut, Keith turned to Thomas, “Did you?” Thomas grinned and opened his robe slightly to reveal that he was in a similar state. There was no question what they were going to do next, but the hour had been beautifully relaxing.

-oOo-oOo-

Tadcaster on a Saturday afternoon was pretty busy. The two had recovered somewhat from the relaxation of the massage, and muscles were feeling the benefit. They found a brewery tap, a couple of rooms tucked down the side of the impressive brewery buildings, though Thomas commented that the bar seemed more of an outlet for the brewery’s memorabilia than anything else.

There was a free table, and they were soon addressing two pints and a couple of pies. Keith rather liked the place, though it was clear that it wasn’t really old but something for tourists. He commented to Thomas, who said that there was probably a nice little, proper old pub nearby that anyone in know went to. Unfortunately, Thomas had managed to leave his CAMRA guide at home. He grinned at Keith, “Another reason to move next-door to you, so that I’m not living in two places at once.”

They walked off the beer with a tour around the town. Thomas would occasionally comment on features of the buildings, and Keith found himself looking around in more detail. He’d worked on plenty of old buildings and new ones, but away from work he tended to take things for granted. A couple of times he and Thomas got into amiable discussions, almost an argument at one point, about some buildings and their putative history. Neither, of course, had the answer. Thomas had some art-historical training, and Keith was used to working on buildings, but they found it an enjoyable way of exploring.

In the car back to the hotel, Keith had commented that perhaps they should have bought a book about the town’s buildings. Thomas’ response was an ironic, ‘if there is one’ but then he thought, and Keith found himself learning about Pevsner’s The Buildings of England. It seemed a ridiculously admirable idea to try to describe the historical architecture of the entire country, county by county. He wondered what was said about Norton, not a lot probably!

“How big are these books?” Thomas looked at him enquiringly, so Keith explained, “the building ones you were talking about. Pevsner, was it?”

“I’ve no idea, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one, just read about them. Big I’d think. I didn’t realise you were interested in architecture?”

“Well, buildings and stuff. Looking at buildings, I like to see how they’re built. I want to know who did it and that. Thought it might be fun to wander round a place and look at the book.”

They got back to the hotel talking about second-hand books and where to get them. There was a message from Alison, she wouldn’t be doing tea but would see them for a drink before dinner. They toyed with the idea of tea but decided staying in the room was far more fun.