Page 11 of Back Where He Belongs

Douglas took a sip from his bottle and sat beside Kier. “Aye, as do I, if you recall?” he snickered.

Kier shot Dougie and incendiary glance, “As a matter of fact, I do,” he laughed lazily and took another swig. Kier tried to think of the last time he’d received a blowjob, and after a puzzling trail through his memories, he came to a fuzzy recall of a toilet stall in a bar in Sydney. He couldn’t even remember what the guy blowing him looked like.

“Was it really just gonna be you and Mac spending Christmas together alone?”

“Aye,” Douglas eased his form back into the comfort of the couch. “My parents are doing a big dinner, but I knew the storm was coming. I’d rather be snowed-in here with my boy than stranded with my da, half-cut with the drink. You remember what a maudlin drunk he is.”

“I do. I’m glad you didnae go.” Kier admitted.

“Me too. I hate to think of you stranded on the road in this weather.”

“You know you probably saved my life,” Kier said, a hand moving to grip Dougie’s thigh and squeeze. “Did you hear that Mac? Your Daddy’s a hero.” Kier called to the sleeping dog who just flapped his ear in response.

“Ah stop!” Douglas said bashfully, giving Kier an elbow to the ribs. Kier snickered, leaving his hand where it was.

“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding earlier… about meeting Mac.”

“I can’t believe you thought he was my boyfriend and I’d bought him a collar and leash for Christmas.” Douglas guffawed. “Fuck, Freckle. You know you’re the only one I’d do that for.”

Kier’s heart leaped hearing that admission. He’d never spoken to a soul about that aspect of their relationship, let alone consider doing it with another man.

When they were growing up, they’d found the Gay scenes in Edinburgh and Glasgow a bit scary and off-putting, and so they’d just used the internet and one another to help explore their kinks.

The easy, comfortable conversation continued while they drank Highland Red cider. Kier put his feet up on the old trunk that Douglas used as a coffee table and laid his head on the back of the couch mirroring Douglas. Kier turned to meet his gaze. Dougie’s dark curls formed a halo around his head, and as the wine and cider finally filtered into his blood, Kier ached to thread a finger through a curl and twirl it playfully. He wanted it so much that his fingertips tingled. He looked at Dougie, his eyes glassy with affection.

“What?” Douglas asked as a blush rose to his cheeks at being observed so intently.

“I was wondering…” Kier took a sip from his bottle for courage. “Where will I be sleeping tonight?”

“Well, Mac’s got the best spot by the fire.”

“True,” Kier said thoughtfully. There was an ominous silence before Douglas said,

“The spare room’s been prepared for ye, an’ I’ve left a few extra blankets on the bed for warmth.”

Kier was surprised by the weight of the punch of disappointment he felt at hearing that.

“Oh, okay.”

With the easy flirtation he’d expected Dougie to ask him to share his bed—he’d wanted that since the moment he’d set eyes on his ex-lover. Kier felt sheepish. He had no claim on Douglas and didn’t have the right to assume that he had anything Douglas needed. Did he expect Douglas to say that all was forgiven, let’s have a shag? The atmosphere grew awkward. Douglas remained silent and deep in thought. It served Kier right, he knew it. Did he really think that after all he’d done, Douglas would be a pushover and welcome him back into his bed?

“I’ll show you where yer sleeping,” Douglas announced unable to disguise the sternness in his voice. He rose and headed for the door and the rickety staircase.

Kier sighed, deeply ashamed. Dougie’s hurt ran deeper than he let himself believe. He hadn’t wanted to think about the consequences of his actions back then, and seeing the results with his own eyes made his heart hurt. Kier’s thoughts were a jumble, and he felt foolish for coming on to Douglas when he clearly wasn’t interested anymore. That boat had sailed a long time ago. Kier grabbed his rucksack and followed Douglas up the narrow timber stairs.

The upper floor layout comprised of two large double bedrooms and a bathroom. The timber floor of the landing was worn, and it slanted a little underfoot. Douglas’s bedroom was to the front of the cottage, and the bedroom door was ajar. Kier could see the flicker of firelight coming from a guarded open fire. He followed Douglas to the second bedroom where a low fire was also lit.

The room was a comfortable temperature. Douglas strode across to the sash window and peered out at the snow. “Still comin’ down,” he observed absently and then pulled the heavy drapes closed.

Kier dropped his rucksack beside the bed. He hated that the atmosphere had grown uncomfortable between them.

“There are clean towels in the airing cupboard if ye want te shower,” Douglas said as he passed by Kier. Kier’s hand shot out and gripped Douglas’s forearm.

“Wait,” he said. Douglas stopped and turned to face Kier, his jaw tight. “I just want to say thank you for everything. I owe ye my life,” Kier announced passionately.

Douglas shook his head, “Don’t be daft; you’d have made it to Inch even if I hadnae found ye.”

“You don’t know that,” Kier insisted. “It’s treacherous out there. I was unprepared. The cold woulda got me before I reached the village. Just take the fuckin’ thanks fer God’s sake!”

Douglas snickered and submitted, letting Kier draw him into a hug. Kier’s heart thundered at holding Douglas in his arms again. There was so much more of him to hold, and with the thin Jersey Santa sleep suit that covered Douglas’s body, he may as well have been naked. The willowy boy was now a solid compact man, and, damn, Kier’s arms did not want to let him go. To his surprise, Douglas hugged Kier back with such fierceness that he whimpered a sob. Hearing himself, Douglas pulled from the embrace and stepped back, embarrassed. “Sleep well Freckle,” he said, his voice thin with emotion.

Before Kier could pull a reply from the lump of feelings lodged in his throat, Douglas had left the room and dragged the bedroom door closed.

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