Rhythm
by
John Terry Moore
CHAPTER 24
The Prime Minister’s car, a medium-sized hybrid diesel-electric sedan, was in sharp contrast to the excesses of the previous administration. They rode around in the last of the yank tanks, caring not for the environment, or their own image. It was one of the things Praveen had suggested very early in Tim O’Brien’s term and certainly gave the politicians on both sides of parliament a whole new image. Tim, Praveen and their children stepped from their car as Chris Chen and his family pulled up behind in a similar vehicle, in front of the Grand Chapel at the International Centre for Human Partnerships. There were security people everywhere as there had been more crank phone calls than usual and open threats of violence against the nation’s leaders as well as Adam and Patrick, as guests of honour on their wedding day. Their good friend Matthew, their security man from the Olympics and their protector from the worst of the groupies in the parades and functions around Australia, was running the security operation. “The far right of lunacy were out in force,” he told them. Most were harmless, and they knew the nutters quite well who had made their customary phone calls and threats. Jenny Gregson had called around to their flat at the boat sheds and was talking quietly to them when Matthew strode in.
“Guys,” he said. “I hate to sound like the voice of doom, but I may ask you to hold off for half an hour or so. There’s a voice we can’t identify who is threatening to shoot you both in the head, so we can’t take any chances.”
Jenny went pale. “The bastards,” she said, “how dare they!”
“I respect Matthew’s opinion,” said Adam quietly, “we can wait awhile.”
Matthew placed a tiny player on the kitchen bench and pressed a button.
“Let’s see first if you know this voice,” he said. “It may well be someone you actually know.”
The voice was obviously male and sounded middle-aged or even older.
“God is in the process of seeking retribution for all these unnatural carnal acts! You will be shot through the head for your gross indecency and your wickedness, and also for ruining my life.”
Jenny’s head snapped up. “That’s that fucking old Ted Macfarlane!” she screeched. “How dare that old arsehole. I thought he was headed to gaol.” Within a few minutes, Matthew’s group had the make, model, colour and registration number of Ted Macfarlane’s car, and everyone had a picture of him. They did a street by street sweep and found nothing. Then they tried his wife’s car number, and suddenly there it was. A bloke sitting inside an old Ford Telstar, with a long paper parcel between the seats which looked like a fishing rod. Except it was a high-powered rifle. Within seconds, Ted Macfarlane was in custody, and Matthew was right there. He kneed Macfarlane in the balls, who squealed in pain.
“You should have used the rifle on yourself, you arsehole,” said Matthew through his teeth. “Because anyone that threatens my mates makes me soooo emotional, you fucking scum bag, I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions. If I were you, I’d find a nice solid beam and hang myself before the lifers get to you in Long Bay.”
He rang Adam and told him the coast was clear, and that he’d see them inside the chapel.
*****
The old red Mercedes glided into the forecourt of the Grand Chapel where upwards of five thousand people were gathered; Will Church at the wheel and Maurie riding beside him. Every major global news service was there, but what was surprising, Craig Williamson noted with satisfaction, was the extraordinary number of smaller services from Arab nations and Asia. They were there obviously because their home country audiences wanted them there, even if the clips were shown only on the internet and never publicly broadcast. For this very brief moment of history, (and Craig was sure it would be seen as such), the image of Adam and Patrick on their wedding day had overcome prejudices, undermined homophobia and had ignited arguments on personal freedoms like no other event in recent history.
The old car whispered to a stop, and Maurie quickly alighted and opened the rear door.
“I normally don’t open doors for fuckin’ bitches,” he whispered to Patrick who was having difficulty keeping a straight face.
“But you do it so well, dear,” Patrick hissed back. “Imagine when you come to work in the Big House, in a nice little lace embroidered cap, carrying the chamber pots around, how enjoyable that will be for you!”
They both laughed, deliberately lightening the mood for all of them. Will and Maurie scurried off to the family seating, just as the huge doors of the Grand Chapel swung wide, and the University Choral Society, all fifty members who had sung for Lance and Angelo, swept out to meet them. Dressed in their pristine white gowns with red trimming, they surrounded Adam and Patrick on the front portico as they began to sing The Rhythm of Life, quietly at first, then lining up, some leading, some at their side, and some behind as Adam and Patrick walked through the doors, hand-in-hand and down the central aisle.
“Would everyone please stand,” roared old David Canning, the celebrant. Whether prince or pauper, political leaders or the most humble of their friends, if they were in the chapel as guests, they all stood to honour Adam and Patrick at this most poignant moment. The volume increased as they neared the mid-way point; the singers nearing the stage, peeled off on either side in equal numbers. Lance, Angelo, Darcy and Jacob met them at the top of the steps, and they made a small procession over to the celebrant. Visually, the setting was spectacular but tasteful. There were spring flowers, ferns and shrubbery everywhere in arrangements that filled the stage, keeping a focus on centre stage front, where there was a relatively small well-lit area for the ceremony. Behind the ceremonial area, as a dramatic backdrop, hung the Australian flag, the gay community rainbow flag, and, with the kind permission (and insistence of the President of the IOC who was sitting a few metres away as a guest,) ----- the Olympic flag.
But nothing and nobody outshone the guests of honour on their special day.
They wore-well cut navy-blue suits, double-breasted, with matching pale blue shirts trimmed discreetly with lace, and topped off with navy-blue bow ties. The effect was spectacular. Maurie had once said that, “some queens look even more camp in check shirts and boots, but the real men look stunning in just a hint of drag!” And so it was with the boys; they looked incredibly masculine, the barrel chests and muscled arms and legs clearly visible under their clothes, with just a hint of their softer nature in their pale blue, lacy shirts.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” began David Canning. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the partnership of Adam Church and Patrick Benson, and to formalise that partnership through marriage.” He continued in a serious tone,
“To begin the ceremony, Adam and Patrick want to formally thank both sides of their immediate family group and to recognise their important contribution. Their instant and complete endorsement of their partnership, has, they believe, been a significant factor in their success as a couple. Adam and Patrick recognise the importance of their family structure; how it has been at the very core of their existence, both in the past as individuals, and in particular since they became a couple. They also acknowledge the importance of extended family in which they include all those people who have unselfishly supported them, encouraged them and believed in them through the highs and lows of their life together so far.
On this table,” said David,” you will note there are four glasses. The three smaller glasses contain, I can assure you, a rather nice cab sav which the boys enjoy! One glass represents Patrick’s birth family, the second represents Adam’s birth family and the third is their extended family and friends. The single large glass represents the formal creation of a new family group; made up of course by the input of the other three. So we pour the three into one. Melanie Benson and Brian Petersen, will make the Benson family contribution, Tom and Mary Church for the Church family, and Praveen Nayar for the extended family and friends.”
Melanie and Brian, her long-time gentleman friend, walked on first, poured their contribution, and walked over to the boys, embracing them, followed by Tom and Mary, who did the same. Finally, it was Praveen’s turn, and he brought the Prime Minister with him. Security and respect for the office had required them to be discreet in naming the PM to participate; but it was the outcome they all wanted anyway! After pouring their glass of wine together, they stopped opposite the boys, formally shaking their hands, and with a quick peck on the cheek, each they rejoined the guests, Tim O’Brien gallantly helping his partner down the steps.
‘Wonderful theatre,’ thought David Canning.
‘Wonderful enrolments,’ thought the Dean, as she smiled indulgently at the amazing publicity. David Canning held the large glass of wine aloft and repeated what had had become a mantra at his ceremonies;
“From two lives, two family groups, and from a loving group of extended family and friends; there is now one family and one home. Drink to your life together Patrick; drink to your life together Adam!”
The guests were more subdued than at Lance and Angelo’s ceremony, David Canning thought, but the international audience naturally required it to be so. He had hoped by placing his ‘family’ ceremony up front, with its movement and symbolism, he might spark some good old-fashioned Australian applause. And lighten the mood a little to help Adam and himself.
‘Oh well,’ he thought, ‘maybe they’re just a bit shy; too frightened to make a move at such an important occasion.’ As if on cue, Darcy started clapping and the microphones picked it up. The applause rose like a tidal wave, and David Canning grinned at the boys.
“Ah,” he said, “permission to proceed!”
David Canning was well aware of Adam’s deeply sentimental nature; and Patrick’s specific request to keep the ceremony as concise as possible, and within twenty-minute’s duration. Adam was terrified of becoming tearful, and despite David’s assurances that it would enhance the ceremony instead of being its ruination, David understood how Adam felt. Real men don’t cry! It was that simple. Always one to appreciate the beauty of the human spirit, David himself was famous for ‘losing it’ when he was touched by a beautiful ceremony or beautiful people, or both. But whilst Australian men had done a 180 degree turn on display of emotion in public, “there was an international audience to consider,” as Adam had reminded him. In some countries, outward emotion in men was seen as a sign of weakness, and the cause of same-sex couples could be damaged as a result.
So they had been through many revisions and re-writes to ‘de-stress’ the ceremony for Adam, finally agreeing on the content.
*****
David Canning told their story well; how at the very beginning they became each other’s best friend; a great foundation for a great partnership and marriage. How it was obviously love at first sight, but Nature took just a few months longer, when they were both ready to move forward. David said he had asked each of them what they liked most about each other. Patrick had said that initially he had fallen for Adam because of his freckles! (There was a hearty laugh from the guests) But that he was the most open and loving person he had ever met. A very natural person who loved him just the way that he was. And following in the Church family tradition, he was the most thoughtful and romantic man he had ever met!
“Then,” said David, “I asked Adam what he loved most about Patrick. Adam said Patrick was the kindest person he had ever met in his life. That he gave his life meaning and that he held their little family structure together so unselfishly, a team member, first and foremost, always thinking of other people before himself. That he was a bloody good cook! (the guests roared), and that he knew Patrick loved him completely, and because of that they could achieve anything they set out to do.”
David gave a theatrical pause, and everyone leaned forward in their seats, slightly puzzled, as the old fellow used the few seconds of vacuum to check on Adam’s progress. The boys both grinned, having thoroughly rehearsed these moves, and understanding David was also giving himself a ‘mini-holiday’ as he called it. Just when the guests and the viewing audience inside, outside and around the world, began to think something was seriously wrong, David began speaking again.
“Adam and Patrick,” he said, “it is, of course what you have achieved, together, as a couple, since you decided to join your lives together, that has become the stuff of legend! You have excelled at many things because of your partnership, not despite it, as was the mindset of yesteryear! You won gold at the Olympics because you were such a together couple! Two people in perfect rhythm with each other! Your partnership made you the best rowers in the world in your event!”
There was sustained applause from everyone listening and watching.
“Yours is a partnership that works, because the input from yourselves matches the output! You have taken an already strong partnership and you have improved on it! You have brought the best out in each other, working together, supporting each other, maximising the individual strengths you each bring to the partnership with a most unselfish attitude. Because of that attitude, your partnership continues to have unlimited potential, and you should both be very proud of what you have achieved together. What you have achieved, of course, openly, honestly and by allowing the media into your most private moments, is to remind the world that same-sex people, and same-sex couples in particular, are equal and worthy participants of the human race! That those people who have used the scourge of homophobia to hide behind are no longer welcome in global society, unless they dramatically change their attitudes. And many have changed as a direct result of your example! Furthermore, I believe you have generally advanced the cause of global peace and harmony through your unpretentiousness and maintenance of high principles on the international stage.”
There was sustained, deafening applause, and the old celebrant paused again, producing a giant handkerchief, mopping his forehead. Adam grabbed it from him and did the same, producing a ripple of laughter.
He went on; “Adam and Patrick, your expectation of today’s ceremony is correct; you understand it is not a safety net, but a formalisation of what you already have, a wonderfully warm and affectionate partnership. It is your loyalty to each other and your focus on your partnership that truly sets you apart in this modern world of ours. We thank you for the pleasure you have given your family and your extended family and friends as a loving couple, and an extraordinary partnership! We salute you and we wish you every happiness for the future!”
Old David glared at the sea of faces in front of him, and roared,
“Well, don’t just sit there, show them how much you really appreciate them!”
When the President of the IOC and his wife stood up and began applauding loudly, so did the entire crowd in the Grand Chapel. ‘That’s better,’ thought David, ‘now we’re on a roll.’ He moved quickly through the Monitum and The Asking, arriving at the Vows, the most legally binding part of the ceremony. It was here the boys had elected to read their vows to each other, and Adam began, in a clear voice:
“I call upon those present to witness,
That I Adam, take you Patrick,
As my lawful wedded partner.
To continue our life together openly
Speaking the truth to you always.
I promise to always be your stroke
As long as you will be my bow man!
For the rest of our life together!”
Then Patrick, who said:
“I Patrick, take you Adam,
As my lawful wedded partner.
To continue our life together openly
Speaking the truth to you always.
I promise to always be your bow man
And even if I get there before you,
I will always wait for you,
For the rest of our life together!”
There was the familiar ripple of laughter, particularly from the Olympic rowing squad who were all in attendance, male and female, coaches, officials and even Gavin Brown, their quick-thinking medico. There was no applause; not because the vows weren’t witty or funny, but because they were beautiful in their simplicity, and there was an undeniable formality that said; ‘hey guys, guess what, we’re married now.’ As they were. David moved quickly to the ring ceremony. He told the story of the signet rings, and how, over 150 years ago, they graced the fingers of two gentlemen just like Adam and Patrick. Edward Fleming and Charles Beamish.
“Shakespeare called it ‘The Love That Dare Not Speak’,” said David, “and that was the way that Edward and Charles lived their lives back then.”
David asked all those attending and watching to pay a silent tribute to all those who, in the period of history since that time, had marched the streets, been arrested for just being what they were, driving the cause of same-sex attracted people and couples toward full equality in Australia.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Adam and Patrick ask you to contemplate how finally, individuals and couples like themselves, now enjoy the same rights, privileges and responsibilities as opposite sex couples, here in Australia, yet in many overseas countries, our compatriots live in fear, many risking their lives, just for being what they are. They ask that all those attending and watching exert influence on those countries and societies to repeal whatever laws are necessary to align their social agenda with countries such as Australia.” There was a murmur of agreement.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said David, “you will note that the boys have worn the beautiful old rings on their wedding finger on their left hands. The rings have been on those fingers since Adam proposed to Patrick last Christmas Day. They have remained there until this moment. As much as they love those rings, they can never symbolise their own marriage. But they will remain on the third finger of their right hand, to allow their own weddings bands to occupy their left hand. Adam, will you now transfer the Fleming ring to Patrick’s right hand?”
The ring slid off Patrick’s well-lubed finger, and slid gently into place.
“Patrick,” smiled David, “would you now transfer the Beamish ring to Adam’s right hand?” Patrick did so, also with little fuss.
“Now please place your right hands together,” instructed David, as he placed his hand on theirs. “Adam and Patrick,” he said, “may these rings continue to bring you great joy in their wearing, pride in their history, and may your children pass them on down the line to other couples like yourselves, into infinity. May we now have the wedding rings, please?”
Lance and Darcy stepped forward with a small silver tray bearing Patrick’s wedding band.
“Adam,” said David, please take the ring and place it on Patrick’s finger, holding his hand, staring deeply into his eyes,” and repeat after me, -----” Adam grinned and the tension vanished.
‘Clever old bugger,’ thought Patrick, knowing the humour was quite intentional and grateful because Adam was so relaxed as a result. Then it was Angelo and Jacob’s turn to hold the tray for Patrick as he collected Adam’s ring and following the celebrant words, presented the symbolic reminder of their marriage to his man. Darcy looked across fondly at Jacob, who had very wet eyes. Jacob looked up; their eyes met, and he smiled at Darcy.
Three months to go and they would be the focus at their own wedding!
*****
The celebrant swiftly wound the ceremony up; he reminded everyone, “that the uniqueness of Adam and Patrick was not their fantastic sporting abilities nor their intellectual prowess, but their down to earth, unpretentious attitude; that all the fame and potential wealth had not altered them, and it never would. That they had the touch of greatness about them because of their connection to and their enjoyment of ordinary people. And little animals,” he smiled, catching sight of Jack, securely anchored by his lead in Tom Church’s hand, but sitting on Mary’s lap! “Let him off Tom,” called old David softly.
“Adam and Patrick,” he said, “may you see many sunrises, have health, happiness and a lifetime of the wonderful partnership you have today. It is therefore my pleasant duty, on behalf of the Commonwealth of Australia, your family, extended family and friends, to declare that you,
Adam Lindsay Church
And you,
Patrick Neville Benson
Are now partners for life!
Adam, if you think he is willing, you may kiss your partner!
Patrick, what do you think?”
Patrick gave one of his most dazzling smiles, his white teeth a contrast against his dark complexion, contrasting with Adam’s fair hair and freckles.
“Oh I think I could manage that,” he grinned, looking at David. With a straight face, he said, “We’ve actually been practising, you know!”
There was a roar of laughter, and the applause swept over the building and at the outside broadcast area. Quietly and amazingly well behaved, little Jack was suddenly around their feet as they moved to the corner table for the signing ceremony.
The choir softly segued into Evergreen a famous Streisand song sung in the way that Barbara intended it to be sung;
“Love, soft as an easy chair,
love fresh as the morning air.
One love that is shared by two,
I have found with you.
Like a rose under the April snow
I was always certain love would grow.
Love, ageless and evergreen
Seldom seen by two.
You and I will make each night a first
Every day a beginning.
Spirits rise and their dance is unrehearsed
They warm and excite us
Cause we have the brightest love,
Two lights that shine as one.
Morning glory and the midnight sun.
Time, we’ve learned to sail above,
Time can’t change the meaning of
One love, ageless and forever, evergreen.”
The documentation was signed, photographs taken and the boys took their leave of their celebrant.
“Thank you so much, David,” said Adam with feeling. “You got me through OK.” “I think you did better than I did,” he laughed, mopping his eyes with his huge handkerchief, as they embraced the old man.
The choir swept into position again, parting briefly to allow Lance, Angelo, Darcy and Jacob through to complete the archway of paddles outside the chapel doors. “Would everyone please stand!” roared old David, as Adam and Patrick began to walk down the aisle to the front doors. The choir sang The Rhythm of Life again; but this time they walked on ahead, through the archway and gathered in a semicircle outside, allowing the guests of honour to have some interaction with the assembled crowd on the way through.
They walked slowly under the archway of paddles, the varnish glinting in the spring sunlight. Adam looked at Patrick and said quietly, “Darling, this is the most important thing we do today.”
Patrick nodded in agreement. The Eight were all in place; each holding their own paddle. They worked their way from the bow down, Angelo first, then Peter Finche, Richard Nation, Andrew Price, then Jacob and Darcy, grinning broadly, then Lance, and finally Stephen Wu, the stroke. They had a simple message for each of them. That they loved each and every one of them and valued their friendship. That the quality of that friendship far transcended what had happened in just two years of university life. That after another two years most of them would be out of daily contact, but not out of their thoughts. That they wanted a formal arrangement, in place, whereby they all gathered together at least once a year. Not a reunion, more a gathering of people who were even closer to them than their own families. After extracting that promise from everyone, they emerged to walk under their own paddles, held by Michael, their coach, Jules Lefevre, President of the IOC, Bill Donaldson, President of the AOC, and someone much younger, beautifully dressed in a spotless beige suit with a contrasting chocolate coloured open-neck shirt who wasn’t really recognisable until they saw the distinctive piercings, studs and rings!
“Philippe,” yelled Patrick, “what are you doing here!”
“I am sent as a gift from the United States,” he smiled. “They so embarrassed they contact me and ask if I will be courier of their letter of apology. From their Big Man!”
Adam quickly opened the communication, and pointed at the signature. “Jesus,” he said, “we must have made our point! He says their double scullers have received on-going counselling, and asks if we’ll give a series of lectures at the American Institute of Sport next January!”
“So did they offer you any compensation for the bloody insults and trauma you suffered?” queried Patrick.
“Yes, they offer me a place at Stamford, but I decline.”
“But why?” Adam and Patrick nearly shouted in frustration.
“Because your Monsieur Michael, and your Madame Dean ask me if I like to come ’ere, and I say yes, excellent university and my ’eroes are also ’ere. So the Americans say, OK, you go there an’ we pay! Is good deal, n’est pas?”
*****
The function afterwards was predictable; good finger food, a few discreet glasses of wine, no speeches at all, (because they strictly forbade it) and people, hundreds of them, from politics, rowing and other sports, local people from the district, the town and from neighbouring farms, and everyone from the university and the university town. And their new life was there ----- Craig Williamson, reminding them of their business commitments, promoting their image, making money out of everything from underwear to speaking engagements. And Matthew, their friend, protector and security ‘shadow’, reminding them that tragedy could have overtaken them today because of the fucked-up religious zealots who would seek to bring them down at all costs.
But for now they were safe, a tired and stressed Matthew shepherded them into a car and they sped away for two nights of private time.
“Aren’t we going the wrong way, Matt?” asked Patrick.
“We’re going somewhere quite different, thank you,” replied Matthew. “That university of yours has more leaks than a bloody sieve! No one can keep a confidence!”
“But all our clothes and stuff are there,” wailed Patrick.
“You are a silly queen at times,” grinned Matthew. “All your gear is in the car that’s following us. And because this new place is less pretentious, they welcome animals. So Jack is in the other car as well!”
Patrick looked at Adam who was laughing at him. “Did you bloody know about this?” he snapped.
“No darlin’ I didn’t, but we did agree that Matt was in charge today, so how about a little kiss?”
Patrick allowed Adam to peck him on the lips, and then he turned to Matthew. “We didn’t have time to thank you Matt, but you actually saved our lives today, I’m a total fuckhead, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
Matthew never missed a beat.
“Mother,” he said to Patrick, “you’re just in need of a good rough fucking, that’s all.”
“I need nourishment, not punishment,” pouted Patrick, laughing and using up one of Maurie’s favourite lines.
“Yes,” said Matthew, “and tonight I reckon you’ll get both!”
Adam roared with laughter and their driver nearly choked. “You OK there Danny?” asked Matthew.
“Mate, I haven’t enjoyed a job so much in years as I have this one. Suppose you’ll be looking after these guys permanently?”
“I don’t think they could afford me,” grinned Matthew, his eyes never still, scanning the road ahead and behind them.
“Surely we’ll be in less danger, now that all of this is over?” asked Adam, a frown on his forehead.
Matthew shook his head in a gesture of frustration. “Guys, Craig Williamson will be doing his best to drive a high profile even higher, don’t forget! Now is not the time to pretend you’re the Two Miss Nobodies, because you’re not!”
“You’re so camp Matthew,” laughed Patrick. “Do you ever worry about yourself?” “Only when I’m around you Mother,” came the swift response.
*****
The hotel was small; not much larger than a guest house, and owned by two senior ladies, both with a great sense of humour, and several dogs. So Jack was right at home, timid at first of the spaniels with their funny ears, but he soon relaxed, curling up in front of the heater with them and was promptly sound asleep. There was a light supper for everyone, but after some tea, Adam and Patrick excused themselves and went up to their room. Instantly, Jack was awake and after cocking his leg outside, he ran after them. Someone had thoughtfully put his basket in the corner and he jumped into it with a sigh and was asleep again.
“Ads,” said Patrick, “look, there’s a note.”
There was a handwritten message on what was obviously expensive paper;
Dear Adam, Patrick and Jack. Welcome to our home. There will be no charge for anything whilst you are our guests here. So eat up, drink up and sweet dreams to the most beautiful couple. Love from Esther and Rhonda. P.S. Happy yaps from Billy, Henry and Silly Susie xxxxx
The hotel directly faced the sea; right across a deserted road was an equally deserted beach, with all the beautiful sounds and smells of the seaside. A row of sighing pine trees driven by a gentle breeze, provided a musical background without spoiling the view. Adam opened the glass door and they were able to walk on to the balcony and look out over the darkened sea. A car was parked under one of the pines.
“Probably poor old Danny,” Adam smiled, “what a bugger of a job.”
“At least Matthew will have a good rest,” said Patrick softly, stroking Adam’s hair. “He must be exhausted.” Adam nodded in agreement. He looked shyly at Patrick. Their wedding night, and he suddenly felt in awe of the beautiful creature in front of him. Always just a bit taller, with that beautiful dark complexion and the flashing smile. Who made his heart rate quadruple every time they made eye contact. Patrick looked into those bright green eyes and those bloody freckles!
“And what are you thinking about Mr Church?” he smiled, as they made their way back inside, closing the door.
“That first night. How you took me on as your pupil.”
“As I remember you went to the top of the class immediately.”
“I wasn’t that good.”
“You were actually amazing; I certainly didn’t have to show you again!”
“Patty,” said Adam. “There’s a little gift I decided to give you tonight.”
Patrick’s face fell. Why hadn’t he thought of something special?
“Sorry darl,” he said, “I didn’t think about anything for you.”
Adam’s smile could only be described as evil.
“You’ve already got my present, and I’ve got yours.” He rubbed the growing mound in Patrick’s pants.
“Why don’t you get out of those?” he suggested, “because I’ve been in training all week with our friend Jeffrey.”
Patrick’s face clouded for a moment. “Who’s bloody Jeffrey?”
“He’s on loan from Angelo and Lance, and he’s been really helpful.”
With that Adam switched the sleek little toy on and they fell on the bed, roaring with laughter.
“Not as big as Frannie’s dildo,” Patrick laughed, then realising its purpose, he grew serious. “Ads,” he whispered, “you don’t have to do that, we’re quite happy doing what we’re doing aren’t we?”
“This is the last thing I’ve got to give you. I’ve thought about it often but it never seemed the right time. And I agree, what we’ve been doing is just such a turn-on; I don’t think anything could surpass it. We may only do it this once or we may do it a hundred times, but I really want to give it to you.”
He put his head down and studied his shoes. “I think most men, regardless of their sexuality, have a feminine side which ----- needs a run in the paddock once in a while! Anyway, Jeffrey and I have had a lovely week together, you nearly caught us several times, but we practised every day, and now we’re ready for your big fella!”
*****
They showered; and Adam hit the comfortable bed first. It was tempting to snuggle into the soft, lavender-smelling bedclothes and slip off to sleep, but his body was on another mission altogether. Patrick came through the bathroom door wearing nothing more than a huge grin and an even larger erection. Adam threw the clothes aside as Patrick’s face hovered above his for a moment until their lips met. Adam placed a spare pillow under him as Patrick readied him, with fingers and tongue, calming him, yet winding the excitement spring even tighter. Patrick took Adam in his mouth for a few minutes but realised Adam wanted him. He rolled on to his side and Adam went berserk, taking him all in, making him so hard he was aching. Finally, with a generous coating of lubrication, he was where Adam wanted him to be.
“Push down, darls,” whispered Patrick, “and relax at the same time. I won’t hurt you.” Amazingly, he slid almost all the way inside, and Adam grunted. Then Patrick started gently moving back and forth and Adam shouted with pleasure. In their previous lovemaking, Patrick had shown him how digital prostate massage worked, using his finger, but this was so different! Almost every part of him screamed to rid himself of the monster inside him, but the contradictory feelings of pleasure were far stronger and he relaxed completely giving that part of himself willingly. He crossed his legs over Patrick’s back as he lay along Adam’s full length, kissing him deeply. Then Patrick reached next to the bed, squeezed a generous dollop of lube onto his hand and applied it to Adam’s rigid member. Adam’s eyes grew wide and he gasped with pleasure.
“Oh, look out -----” he said, as Patrick thrust all the way inside him, and they erupted together.
*****
They awoke the next morning as they fell asleep; in each other’s arms and practically stuck together! It was still quite early, the time clock of their bodies still set firmly on hundreds of early training mornings. Adam took Jack downstairs, letting him outside to pee, and then reuniting him with his mates, the spaniels. He returned to the room and they stumbled into the shower together, soaping each other everywhere, and washing off.
“How do you feel, you sore at all?” Patrick asked with raised eyebrows.
“Well I know you’ve been visiting, but that’s a nice feeling anyway.”
Adam took his hand and led him to the bed.
“That will rank, for me personally, as probably the greatest sex of my life,” Adam grinned.
“But it’s not us, though, is it?” responded Patrick. “Rather like the hetero couple who spice things up a bit when the wife straps on a dildo and fucks the husband!” Adam laughed but he was listening also.
Patrick continued; “If you remember when we first got together, I said that every partnership defines itself, and I just knew with you I wanted to be the bottom. And you still feel the need to be the top, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” whispered Adam, grinning all over his face. “But I feel different after last night and that’s good. I actually feel more like a man, if you can understand what I mean? I know what I’m doin’ to you now physically and mentally; I put myself in your position deliberately; I just hope it makes me a better lover.”
Patrick smiled, moved off the bed and stood with his legs apart, leaning against the mirrored doors of the wardrobe. He spread them even wider, knowing he was well-lubricated, looking back over his shoulder at Adam. The morning light spilled over the room, catching Adam’s hair, the blond curls now longer; his body no longer trained to perfection, but more appealing somehow with a modest covering of maybe an extra two kilos spread where it should be. Like him. Adam had said his best asset, (his bum), had nearly disappeared when they had trained right down, but now even Patrick had to agree that it had returned in all its best dimensions!
Patrick looked at his partner; nothing had changed since Christmas when Adam had proposed. Their love had grown and developed even further as they built their sporting career together, testing their partnership and their resolve. And they knew they were well-matched and consequently lucky. But they also understood that the decision to move forward, just like Lance and Angelo and now Darcy and Jacob, was one of mutual choice. Patrick thought back to when he decided to entrust Nature, and he was so glad he had. The golden haired god standing there had the hardest and hugest erection he had ever seen him with; the natural sheath peeled back with moisture aplenty; that way because Adam wanted him, and only him. Adam looked on, completely besotted; the swirling hair on Patrick’s lower back more inviting than ever. The globes of his bottom, plump, full and rounded to perfection. He growled something indecipherable and found the entrance to Patrick’s treasure. He slipped in so easily, and Adam remembered how much he loved this position from their first night together. He pushed onward and upward and Patrick’s being just took all of him, completely and without fuss. Patrick felt completely full; as he was, with Adam’s full length inside him, gently and lovingly stroking slowly back and forth, nearly leaving him, stopping at the very edge of his opening and sliding all the way up again. Adam wailed; he knew he couldn’t last much longer, and he thrust into him, reaching his climax abruptly and without warning as Patrick, without touching himself, emptied on to the glass door of the wardrobe with an answering roar. They staggered around the room, finding their feet and falling on to the bed in a tangled mess of arms and legs.
Adam grinned at him as he got up again and cleaned off the wardrobe door. “Better do the housework,” he laughed, and Patrick looked on, amazed at his natural and laid back attitude. ‘We’ve come a long way together,’ he thought, ‘there’s simply nothing we can’t handle now or in the future.’
Patrick grinned at him and kissed him. “What happened to that lovely straight guy I used to know?” he laughed. He looked at Adam who had grown reflective, and perhaps a little serious.
“Oh I’m just the same,” he laughed, “but different. The difference is that I think I fell in love with you much quicker than I realised, you know? And when you love someone the things that may have seemed distasteful in the past simply don’t matter anymore because you measure the things in your life in a totally different way. Like when we both had diarrhoea after the national Championships in Tasmania and we had to clean each other up. It’s just the same.”
“But when you cleaned my cum off the wardrobe, you didn’t have to lick your fingers,” teased Patrick.
“Well my point is that as long as it’s your cum, I’d be quite happy to take the lot down my throat, just like you take mine! Do I make sense?”
*****
The restaurant was nearly deserted when they finally arrived for breakfast. Just one person was sitting by himself; ----- Matthew, who was staring out to sea. There was no stirring from their old friend this morning; he stood up and kissed them both in what had become a ritual for Matthew. A loving, kind man who viewed his security responsibilities towards them with a fierce protectiveness.
“I won’t ask if you slept well,” he laughed. “You’d immediately think I was taking the piss out of you! I mean it was your wedding night, after all!”
“We did sleep very well, thank you, bitch,” grinned Patrick. “No need to hold back on our account!”
Adam laughed at the two of them; Patrick and Matthew were the closest of friends, a very similar relationship to Maurie, Adam realised. They exchanged open, frequent and even public insults, but they had both become so close to Matthew as he defended them through some real life dramas, like the major one of yesterday. Where if Matthew hadn’t trusted his instincts, they could have lost their lives on their wedding day. Adam and Patrick had discussed the subject of Matthew several times; like how do you reward someone for saving your life except to be the best friends they could. They both realised they were dreading the day when Matthew would return to his government job, because they would miss him.
And he left no doubt in their minds that he would miss them also.
Adam knew he had to verbalise their feelings. And sitting at the breakfast table, over bacon, eggs and hash browns he told Matthew how much they had come to love him as a member of their family, how they would miss him when he returned to Sydney and Canberra to work and what could they do to keep in touch on a regular basis? Matthew nodded in response, then blew his nose as he stared out across the ocean.
“I love you guys so much,” he said. “I know I can talk to you about anything. The truth is, you may be seein’ more of me in the future than you think. I’m having what you might call domestic problems. My wife says she can’t hack my frequent absences and she feels trapped with the kids, can’t have a life of her own, she says.” He looked beseechingly at Adam and Patrick and went on; “I appreciate it’s really hard when your partner has a job like mine, because not only am I almost never there, but the likelihood of me comin’ home in a body bag is real in the security business. So I don’t blame her for getting restless. But it’s the kids,” he cried, “that’s what upsets me! I would do anything for them, anything, but she doesn’t seem to have any maternal instinct at all! They need me, but I just can’t be there when I should be! I think she’s got a boyfriend,” he said dejectedly, hanging his head.
Patrick flew out of his chair and wrapped his arms around him.
“Come down to us and we’ll look after you all. We think we might move next year if we can find married quarters with enough room for Jack. But only if we’re close by to Angelo, Lance, Darcy and Jacob.”