“Oh, Patrick will bring his own boat, and his own entourage,” Ant promised. “He doesn’t go anywhere without a bodyguard.”
“Big cheese!” Rayne chuckled. “No wonder the Tithead Twins were wetting their proverbial knickers.”
“He’s a big boy in every sense of the word,” Ant murmured. The older man was rubbing himself between Rayne’s cheeks now, growing steadily more aroused though he had promised himself that he would try and behave until his lover’s results came back. Although that was probably a case of bolting the barn door after the pigeons had flown. “He’s rumoured to have the biggest cock in the Business.”
“Mmmhhh…” Rayne chuckled. “Sounds interesting.”
Ant shook his head.
“You’re in an amazingly good mood this morning.”
“What’s to be miserable about? The sun’s shining, we’re in the South of France, we’re on a boat and…” Rayne stopped and turned to face him, dropping the faux vivacious act abruptly. His eyes were wide and unblinking. “What if…?”
Ant put a hand over his mouth at once, shaking his head more vigorously.
“Shhhh. Don’t even think about it. You’ll get the results as soon as the tests are done. Until then there’s no point worrying.”
The boy stared back at him, his eyes suddenly huge and scared. Ant felt a lump of ice start to melt in his belly. Up until this moment he had seriously believed that Rayne did not give a damn whether he lived or died. Now he was not so sure. Sometimes his lover was so self assured that it made his head ache and then he went and did something that reminded Ant how young he still was.
“It’ll be okay,” he promised, wishing words could make it so.
Rayne tried a shrug but it did not quite come off.
“Bet you wish you’d never fished me out of the snow now,” he said with a grimace.
“Seriously? If I had the chance to walk on by and leave you there…” Ant straightened, looking solemnly down on him. Then he weakened; “…naw, I’d have done the same thing. I guess I’ve always been a sucker.”
Rayne’s hands slid up his chest to the back of his neck again and the boy pulled himself up on his toes and kissed Ant softly on the lips. His lean body swayed against Ant’s chest and belly under the fine drizzle of cool water.
“You’re not a sucker, Ant,” he said magnanimously. “Shame more people aren’t like you, really.”
“Do you wish I’d not got you into this?” the other man asked, still preoccupied.
Rayne leaned against him, his left cheek resting on Ant’s breast, slim arms still wrapped around his neck. Ant gently caressed his back and buttocks under the shower unable to disguise his arousal any longer.
“If the only other option is staying with John and flogging my arse then… no, I guess it’s a good move,” he said thoughtfully, at last.
“Why did you never just go home?” Ant breathed, burying his face in Rayne’s wet hair.
“There never seemed much point,” Rayne Wilde said neutrally.
They had been here before, but this time the boy seemed less hostile to the idea. Ant hoped that he would at least consider it. Daniel’s offer was a good stop-gap but even Ant hated the idea that Rayne might get sucked back into the movie industry. Dan looked after his lads but it was a rough and nasty way to make a living however you looked at it. Aldo and the twins were not much older than Rayne but they seemed so hard somehow. He could not imagine any of them settling to a life that allowed them love and peace.
“It might give you some time to get your head together,” Ant suggested.
“Are you saying that you’ve brought me all the way down here and introduced me to people and got me AIDS tested and now you don’t think it was the right thing to do?” Rayne pushed away from him, looking up quizzically into his face. A small frown brought his angular brows down into an elegant arrowhead at the bridge of his tip-tilted nose.
Ant opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“I think you can do better for yourself than this,” he said at last, diplomatically.
Rayne’s lips attempted a smile but the frown was still in place. He shook his head slowly, wandering out from under the showerhead. As Ant followed him the water ceased immediately and the warm air began to billow over their damp skin.
“You were fine about ‘this’ until last night. The idea of me in films was giving you a perfect boner the other day, now you’re thinking I can do better! What’s going on, Ant?” the boy demanded. “Is it the idea that I might have given you a fuckin’ disease? What am I gonna do if I’m infected? You didn’t think about that before, huh?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Ant protested but some of his own anxiety must have showed on his face. As he was quickly discovering, Rayne did not need much in the way of clues when it came to personal feelings. He was quite a connoisseur of human emotions, even though he kept his own under pretty tight wraps most of the time.
“Or maybe you’re jealous. Is that it?” the boy ploughed on, twisting the knife in another tender spot. He retrieved his plaited bracelets and the little pouch he wore around his neck and pulled them back on, shaking droplets of water out of his hair. “Are you jealous that someone else gets to fuck me? You think I’ll get one shot at this Paddy bloke and I’ll be off again before I’ve paid you back? Jesus, Ant!”
“I don’t think that,” Ant lied valiantly.
“Well don’t worry. You’ll get your fucking money!” Rayne snapped at him and stalked out into the corridor.
“It’s not about the money!” Ant yelled after him but there was no answer.
*
“Patrick’s arriving at seven,” Daniel Leland called, without looking up from his book, as Rayne stormed between him and Arturo on the rear deck and jumped down to the jetty without a word. “You should wear a hat!” he added in a slightly louder voice but the boy had already stalked out of earshot.
Ant arrived moments later, still wet and looking flustered. Terry came through from the lounge behind him and handed him a Manhattan.
“Where did he go?” Ant demanded.
Daniel pointed wordlessly in the direction of the apartment complex around Ambonne and Ant set off in pursuit, still clutching his glass.
“Wow, I didn’t know we were doing amateur dramatics!” one of the Twins remarked from up on the top deck. “It’s like a Queer Sex and the City!”
Aldo, who was sprawled out beside him in shades and nothing else, shook his head irritably at the youth and returned to his sun worshipping.
A FAMILIAR FACE:
Ant thought he saw the back of Rayne’s head disappearing into the colourful maze that was the marketplace but once he reached the avenue of bustling stalls and shops he lost the younger man. He walked right through to the far end of the Collines and scanned the beach, shading his eyes with his free hand. There was no sign of Rayne anywhere. At last he knocked back the cocktail in the other hand and turned back despondently towards the harbour.
As he trudged by, a voice hailed him by name from one of the bars on the boardwalk and he looked up, briefly hopeful. A familiar figure waved a hand in his direction but it was not his errant lover. Christophe was sprawled comfortably on a lounger in the shade of a huge parasol. He was nude save for a pair of wrap-around shades and a couple of dog tags on a silver chain around his neck. As Ant came closer he noted that the Frenchman was also wearing a silver cock ring. His long, brown prick lay across his right thigh, just flaccid enough to be decent. Thierry knelt at his left side in a black leather collar and a skull harness with a bit strap that pulled between his soft, pink lips, gagging him. The harness was attached to the collar with little silver rings as was the short chain leash that Christophe tugged on now, pulling him closer. The boy laid his head against Christophe’s naked thigh. His eyes were closed but Ant could see the darkening bruise that ran down the right side of his face.