Rhythm

by

John Terry Moore
 

CHAPTER 31

Richard stirred in his sleep; he had begun to sleep less soundly, yet he still felt fully rested in the mornings.  The nicest thing about waking through the night was quietly watching Peter sleeping; even with all the drama of the last few months and the enormous task they had set themselves, Peter showed few physical signs of stress.  Oh yes, he certainly didn’t allow inner tension to build up; he regularly unleashed a tirade on him and cleared the air!  But every day that passed seemed they were a little more at ease with each other.  Richard found himself at last daring to hope that their old relationship may return; certain elements certainly seemed to be reasserting themselves already.  He was aware that his personality seemed almost his own again; where he had felt so negative and passive with the medication; not caring about anything and needing Peter to make all the decisions, he now found himself interested enough to accept some responsibility, not just for himself, he realised, but for their shared existence.  Because a few days ago something profound happened.  Not with a rush or with flashing lights, but he was quite suddenly aware that the noise in his head had gone; the nightmares and flashbacks had gone.  It had been as if he had been falling down a waterfall forever; skinned and bruised by the rocks, but now he had fallen freely into still, calm water and his mind was clear and at rest again.  So peaceful and yet so empowering.  But for now, just to watch Peter as he slept was enough. 

Peter turned on to his side and Richard slipped closer, spooning him.  When the alarm sounded at 6.30am, they were still in the same position. 

“Morning,” said Peter, obviously enjoying their close proximity. 

“Morning to you, boss man.”  Peter laughed at the remark, but also noted the position they found themselves in, and how Richard seemed to be more attentive to him and certainly more assertive in the running of their lives. 

“Am I just the boss now,” he grinned, “not the Sergeant Major!” 

“You’re good at both jobs,” Richard said firmly with a twinkle in his eye.  “Because even though you have the title, you’re smart enough to know I’m the General!” 

Peter rolled over in bed and faced him. 

“You are the most self-opinionated, self-centred egomaniac I have ever met,” he snapped.  Richard lay back on the pillows with a huge grin all over his face, knowing he had successfully wound him up, just like he had always done in the past.  Peter grew serious for a moment, chewed his bottom lip and met his gaze.  “You are just about there, aren’t you?” he said, feeling both apprehensive and excited all at once. 

“Yeah, I think I should go back to work on Monday; it’s time I started paying my way,” Richard said softly. 

“You needn’t ever worry about that,” Peter replied, but realised what Richard really meant.  Richard, he understood, wanted to reward everyone in the support group with proof their work had not been in vain!  ‘Yes,’ Peter thought, ‘it’s time all right and he also wants to prove himself to be the man of the house, the breadwinner!  That’s him, the real Richard is back!’ 

*****

It all happened in a week.  Richard had been back at work for over a month, and it was time for his first interstate trip; to the port of entry agents in Darwin, Townsville and Brisbane.  He had to audit their systems, check quality parameters and generally ensure everyone was focussed on their business. 

Peter arrived home on the Wednesday evening to again find Priscilla looking plainly unhappy.  She ran into every room, making whining noises, and eventually slumped in an ungainly heap on the lounge, glaring at Peter. 

“Yes, I miss him too, Prissy,” he told her. 

He thought back to the day when Richard first arrived and how proudly Priscilla escorted him into the house, as if it were all her idea!  And how she had watched over him; probably even saved his life by sensing his depressive mood on that fateful day.  It had been a shitty week.  The Taiwanese agent had overspent his budget by three hundred per cent and they had discovered a huge shortfall in the adoption and surrogacy department.  He had set all the accounts up on simple spread sheets that an imbecile could follow.  ‘Maybe an imbecile would have difficulty,’ he thought, ‘maybe we’ve employed imbeciles when we thought we had sane, rational human beings with logical minds.’ 

He’d finally ‘spat the dummy’ in a big way, reminding everyone, “That the ICHP was supposed to be a commercial operation and that everyone on staff had management responsibility for their individual areas, and that their attitudes needed some serious modification.” 

His remarks had percolated up to Alain and Kenneth, who were highly amused.  “I just love it when we get staff complaints like this,” Kenneth chortled, “it means he’s doing his job better than we could ever have dreamt!” 

Alain nodded at his partner’s wisdom. 

“Yes, I agree.  Why don’t we give him another raise just to make sure everyone stays on their toes!” 

What had exacerbated his foul mood was of course, the resounding silence and stillness of his house with Richard interstate.  In six months, this was the first time they had spent even one night apart, and whilst there was no formal relationship in place, he missed him.  He and Priscilla sat together, comforting each other, and for the first time ever, he had allowed her to sleep on the bed.  The issue of he and Richard as a potential partnership was obviously on his mind; Richard had certainly fulfilled his end of the agreement; he was now wonderfully well, not just off the medication, but his whole physical and mental condition was actually better than it had ever been.  So there was a degree of pressure on Peter to state his case;----- again.  ‘So what’s stopping me?’ he thought, feeling a tad guilty because Richard had ended up doing everything in his power to rehabilitate himself in his eyes.  ‘It’s different to before,’ he thought.  ‘We’re now late twenties, we’re not kids anymore and our expectations are so different to when we were kids or even undergrads.  Maybe we’ve just grown up.’ 

He realised what he had said to Richard and others about not being able to turn his emotions on and off was still the central reason nothing had progressed further at this stage.  If he was brutally honest with himself, he probably harboured a degree of resentment because all those years ago Richard had preferred someone else to him;----- his wife, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to forgive easily, if at all.  And then he had to rescue Richard when everything fell apart.  Yet he had upped the ante by insisting they sleep together from the very first night Richard landed in his home.  Why had he done that?  He rationalised his actions on the basis of security; knowing where Richard was at all times.  And it had worked; Richard passed out with the drugs every night, and because he was right next to him in the bed, he also slept well himself.  Richard’s impotence hadn’t worried him because they weren’t sleeping together for that reason.  So Peter rationalised it further that they were just two friends, cuddling each other, giving each other comfort.  So why was he missing him so much?  And how did they both move on now?  Richard was part of his household, or so Priscilla thought!  She wouldn’t allow him to go!  ‘Look at the bloody bitch now, sulking because he’s not here, she’s worse than I am,’ he laughed to himself, his sense of humour surfacing and forcing him to lighten up a little.  Just then, the doorbell rang, and Priscilla flew off the lounge like a bullet, barking and growling at the front door.  As Peter opened the door, his mouth also dropped open!  There stood the most beautiful specimen of local manhood possible.  Grant Smithson. 

It had been some time since Peter had even thought about sex; somehow with Richard around and particularly with his impotence an issue, he had been focussed on simply ensuring he got well again.  He hadn’t been totally innocent; he’d given Richard a few massages below the waist when he was so deeply asleep under the effect of the medication!  And that led nowhere, but it had reminded him of the old days when they had so pleasured each other; still the best sex of his life, because they were obviously so in tune with each other.  And now, suddenly, here was this god-like person whom he had met through the club scene and who lived locally.  Who had given him the come-on in a big way in the past, but somehow they had never managed to consummate their desires.  He looked at him now; dressed in running shorts and fashionable running shoes, naked on top, with his shirt tucked into the waistband of his shorts.  Totally hot!  He’d actually seen below the waist in the back room at one of the clubs, but he was fully occupied with someone else at the time, so he hadn’t taken it further.  And now he’d arrived at his front door!

 “You going to invite me in, Peter?” he said, with a dazzling smile. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit surprised to see you here, Grant.” 

“Well, you are in the phone book and I was having a run tonight, so I thought I may as well drop in,” he smiled. 

“Oh yes, would you like a drink?” said Peter, still trying to process all the information.  Priscilla bristled.  She growled and growled, making it quite clear she didn’t like the visitor. 

“Prissy,” yelled Peter, “don’t be such a little bitch; into your bed immediately!”  Priscilla slunk away to the laundry, growling as she went. 

“Take no notice,” he said, “she’s just very protective whilst Richard is away.”  ‘Something isn’t quite right,’ Peter thought in his subconscious, as he poured Grant a generous Scotch, understanding by now the real reason for Grant’s visit at eight o’clock on an autumn evening.  But mother nature at her treacherous best had created an enormous stirring in his pants, which he tried to hide, unsuccessfully.  And of course Grant noticed immediately, knowing a conquest was imminent. 

“So Richard is still living with you, is he?” 

“Y-yes,” said Peter, his hand shaking a little as he passed Grant his drink, and turned to pour one for himself.  “He’s interstate on company business.” 

“What a loser,” Grant remarked, stroking his lengthening cock through the material of his shorts.  “What a waste of space.  Tried fucking pussy and didn’t like it.  What a ridiculous position to get yourself into.  And he had to crawl back to you, one of his old rowing mates, to get him out of trouble.” 

Just then Peter remembered what Angelo had told him about Grant Smithson.  He had a partner, Greg, and they had a supposedly ‘open’ relationship.  That Grant, with all his good looks and charm had a reputation as a sleaze, and given the free and easy nature of modern gay society, he had to be especially evil to deserve such a tag. 

“So he’s probably fucking some little underage boy whilst you’re keeping the bed warm down here,” laughed Grant, unaware he was creating his own nemesis at an alarming rate.  Peter felt his face flush as his dick dropped like a stone.  ‘Simple transfer of blood from one place to another,’ he thought, as he composed himself. 

“Drink up,” he said to Grant. 

“Oh plenty of time,” Grant replied in a laid-back tone.  “We’ve got all night.” 

“No we haven’t, Grant, you have to get home to your partner.  Perhaps, seeing you have such an open relationship with Greg, you’d like me to ring him and tell him where you are,” Peter said in an ice-cold voice. 

It took a little time, but finally it dawned on Grant that maybe he was persona non grata. 

“I find your remarks about Richard insulting and offensive in the extreme,” Peter whispered.  He was so angry he was shaking.  “Not only do you base your opinions on total falsehoods and suppositions, but you have the nerve to assume that everyone is as stupid as you are!” 

He started shouting and Priscilla, knowing her character judgement had been correct after all, left her bed and started barking hysterically. 

“This is Richard’s home,” he shouted, “and who do you think you are to criticise him in any way, you fucking low-life prick!” he thundered. 

Priscilla got the message and picked up the volume a little more as Grant rose to his feet and began backing up the hallway towards the door. 

“Never in my life has everything I value and love been called into question by such a weak, spineless, gutless fucking creep!” he shrieked. 

As he opened the door, Priscilla dashed at him, nipping his ankles as the beautiful Grant picked his feet up like a ballet dancer, jumped the front fence and ran off down the street.  Peter collapsed on the front step and began laughing at the absurdity of it all.  Then he burst into tears from sheer rage and frustration; that someone with such low IQ and low self-esteem could have wound him up so successfully.  He felt a cold hatred for Grant and people like him.  He flipped open his phone and dialled the only person who could make him feel as he should; loved, protected and appreciated. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hi yourself, beautiful.” 

“Dicky,” Peter smiled, “remember we had an agreement to review how we felt about us when you got yourself better?” 

“Y-yes,” came the cautious answer. 

“Well I reckon nothing’s really changed.” 

“Oh, I see.” 

“No you don’t see, silly.  I reckon I’ve never really stopped loving you, so it’s situation normal!  So I didn’t need to re-examine my feelings because I’ve just realised they’ve been there all the time!” 

“Yeah, I feel the same way,” breathed Richard, a huge smile on his face, sitting on the edge of his hotel bed in Brisbane.  Quickly, Peter told him about his visitor and how, after being forced to spring to Richard’s defence, he understood clearly what he wanted from life. 

“When are you coming home, Dicky?” he said in a pleading voice. 

“Well, I’ve gone really, really well up here; thanks to all the staff.  Should be on the early plane Friday morning.  Sam is just so pleased; I’ll tell him I’ve got family business to attend to, and I’ll come straight home.  Don’t forget this is the long weekend, so we’ll have a good start.  Can you get some time off?” 

“You can bet on it, I can’t bloody wait.” 

Richard chuckled at the other end. 

“Actually I’ve got some news for you too.  Good news.” 

“Oh?” 

“No more limp dick!  He nearly tickled me under the chin this morning!  So it’s like all this was meant to happen, don’t ya reckon?” 

“Well, that’ll make things interesting, won’t it?” 

Richard went quiet on the other end. 

“You’d take me on the way I was, wouldn’t you?” 

“Of course, wouldn’t matter whether it was hard or soft, babe, as long as it’s attached to you.” 

*****

All Richard could see was a brilliant smile.  It eclipsed everything else around him; it was just Pete with a huge grin.  He actually ran across the area at the baggage carousel and lifted him off his feet.  Then planted the longest, most lascivious kiss on Peter’s lips.  There was a smattering of applause from some of his fellow passengers waiting for their luggage.  ‘Dear conservative Richard,’ thought Peter, ‘has come a long way!’ 

“I’m so bloody proud of you,” he declared.  “Maybe I should send that Grant some flowers and thank him!” 

“Don’t bother, he wouldn’t understand, he’s just so dumb!”  

“So you got the rest of the day clear?” 

“I have.” 

“Good, because we’re going away for the weekend.  And Prissy’s coming with us, because I made sure the place is dog-friendly!” 

They drew up in the carport, and found they couldn’t leave the car ----- just yet.  Arms around each other, Peter’s head on Richard’s shoulder, just gently kissing, the way they had in the past, as if time had stood still.  They finally got out of the car, opening the back gate as a screaming ball of black and white fur hurtled excitedly through the air, jumping into Richard’s arms, as if she were a baby!  Peter laughed; he could see the funny side of things. 

“Our dog is an excellent judge of character,” he laughed.  “I should have paid her more attention!” 

*****

“So where are we going, and what clothes will I pack for us?” Peter asked.  Richard looked at him happily. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“It’ll be a bigger surprise if I turn up in a ball gown and high heels when I should be in shorts and flip flops.” 

“Okaaay, let’s say shorts, tees, some short-sleeve shirts, for during the day, plus your swimmers if it’s warm enough.  And that nice navy blazer of yours with a couple of dress shirts for the evenings.  And pullovers for both of us.” 

“Yes oh Master.” 

“Glad you remember who is in charge.” 

They looked at each other with amusement.  They had always sounded like this, and to them it was so familiar.  They had gravitated back to their old repartee the moment their love affair had been rekindled.  Completely at ease with each other.  Other people thought they were systematically insulting each other; but they were just winding each other up!  Richard had never been a gushing, romantic type; similar to Darcy, he had always preferred to do things for Peter, rather than talk about it.  He preferred barbeques to candlelit dinners.  And he fully supported Peter’s healthy hatred for the dinner queen circuit.  Back in their very early days as undergrads, they had been discreetly invited to dinner parties, aware that their presence was tolerated because they were young and attractive.  All focussed on possessions and not people; an old-fashioned bastion of ‘niceness’ which they knew they could do without.  Instead they were joined at the hip with their friends from the old rowing group at university.  All of them had been totally supportive through Richard’s troubles, and he and Peter had never really felt alone.  There was no posturing or pretension with any of them, all down to earth, loving people who didn’t know how to stop giving of themselves.  And so it was natural for Richard to pick up the phone and talk to Patrick, because he remembered Patrick saying how much they loved the little seaside hotel where they spent a few nights after their marriage ceremony.  A mini honeymoon.  Run by two lovely gay ladies, Esther and Rhonda.  With spaniels!   “And could he have the phone number, please?” 

Despite being grilled by Patrick, Richard gave nothing away. 

“Why can’t I talk to sis?” Patrick whined. 

“Because I’m in Queensland and it’s a bloody surprise.” 

Knowing instantly what was about to transpire, Patrick said no more, except to say, “Well give my love to sis, and we love you both.” 

*****

They drove into the car park at the rear of the hotel; Peter finally joining the dots together and remembering both Patrick and Matthew’s description of the place.  “This is where Adam and Patrick came for their honeymoon.” 

“Yep, and Matthew and Philippe.” 

“Cool.  You’re actually quite thoughtful.” 

“Well I thought we should clear out from home, because there were some ugly things as well as uplifting things that happened there whilst I was crook.  Because we need some neutral ground.  And these few days are important, because we have an opportunity to really get our shit together, don’t we?” 

Peter nodded, amazed at Richard’s wisdom.  A few days by themselves was exactly what they needed. 

A time that was just for them, in surroundings that were friendly and supportive. 

They unloaded the car and were shown to their room.  And were invited for a cup of tea in the kitchen, so Priscilla could meet her cousins the spaniels, Billy, Henry and Silly Susie.  Esther sensed that they needed their own space and said so.  “You babies need to chill out together,” she said with a knowing smile.  “Just feel as if the place is your home.  I think Priscilla might be one of us, if you know what I mean?  She and Susie seem quite close.” 

*****

Peter realised Richard must be running on adrenalin; he’d been travelling all day, including driving them down to the coast, nearly three hours behind the wheel.  His eyes looked a little tired, but he showed no signs of slowing down.  Their room was at the front of the building, looking out over the sea, and the pine trees along the foreshore could be heard sighing away as a gentle breeze wafted through them. 

“You have the bathroom first,” Richard said.  “I’ll download my mail.” 

Peter walked back into the room feeling refreshed, ----- and shy!  He’d been worrying about their love making; they had slipped back into their old partnership so easily, but their sex life in the past had consisted of blow jobs; certainly long and relaxed, pleasuring each other sometimes for hours at a time.  But this was now all brand new to them; should they stay with mutual masturbation or should they slip into anal?  The problem was, of course, that Richard was enormous; and he doubted if he could accommodate him!  And Richard had quite limited sexual experience; at twenty-eight-years of age, Peter doubted if he’d been to bed with any other guys, and certainly the poor guy had been a total failure with women, particularly his ex-wife. 

Richard emerged from the bathroom and casually stripped the towel from his waist and stretched it across the back of a chair to dry.  He turned and smiled; the uncertain smile of someone who doesn’t quite know what to do next.  Peter knew he had to take charge of this part; to have his confidence affected at this stage was the last thing Richard needed. 

“Come here, darling,” he said.  “I’ve been thinking all day about what I’d do with your friend there,” pointing to Richard’s impossibly hard monster.  He dragged him down and Richard was galvanised into action, kissing him all over, taking Peter into his mouth.  Suddenly Richard found himself in the sixty-nine position, and within a few minutes, they burst all over themselves.  They dozed off, but awoke a short time later to find they were both ready again.  Peter gently but firmly took charge. 

“Lie there Dicky, just let me do my thing, OK?” 

Richard nodded, obviously pleased to be organised for once.  Peter had lubricated himself thoroughly; he coated Richard generously and left the tube nearby.  Richard stirred, but Peter pushed him back on the bed, straddling him, and gently sitting on his huge girth.  Being in control as he was, he relaxed without any fear of being hurt.  He moved up and down, working about half of it into him.  Richard moaned appreciatively, as he started to enjoy what was happening to him.   Suddenly, Peter sat all the way down.  It hurt at first, but he sat still for a few moments allowing himself to adjust to the intruder inside him.  Then it started to feel better, and he rolled on his side, with Richard still inside him, encouraging him to gently move in and out.  He moaned; it didn’t matter how much or how little Richard moved, his prostate responded immediately, and he ran like a faucet.  Peter didn’t know how long they gently moved together; he could feel the pressure building within both of them and finally they came within a few seconds of each other, remaining hooked together.  Their eyes locked, and it was Richard who spoke first. 

“You know, don’t you?” he whispered.  “No one has to tell ya, you know when it’s right.  I remember Jacob saying that he and Darcy knew straight away; so did Adam.  Christ I’ve wasted so much time, Pete, I’m sorry.” 

“Listen; we agreed that the past was the past.  And the last thing you need to do is focus on the past with flash backs and all that negative shit.  Your parents and the church set the rules for you back then.  Once you let all of that stuff go and decided you were responsible for yourself, the real you emerged.  Now are we going to think about the future and think positive?” 

“I wouldn’t dare do otherwise, Sarge.” 

*****

Peter awoke early as light crept into the hotel room.  He crept out of bed and into the en suite, using the toilet whilst Richard slept on peacefully.  All his concerns had evaporated.  Whilst he had committed unconditionally to Richard a few days ago, his worries about physical compatibility had proven groundless.  ‘How wrong could I have been!’ he smiled to himself.  Their love making, since Friday evening, had been almost continuous; not the stuff of teenagers, but two healthy adult males in their late twenties, demonstrating how much they loved each other and enjoying themselves in an atmosphere both supportive and peaceful.  He realised their private little tryst couldn’t last much longer however; he’d only told his parents they were away for a few days and left the rest to their imagination!  Jasmine and Eric weren’t stupid, but at least they wouldn’t blow their cover. 

Suddenly he felt guilty; his mum and dad had been magnificent through Richard’s illness, and he owed them big time.  He tiptoed into the bedroom to find a pair of penetrating blue eyes watching his every move. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning to you.” 

Richard rolled out of bed, sprinted into the bathroom and noisily communed with nature, before returning to the bedroom. 

“So what’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Bullshit, ya talkin to me!”  Peter laughed; Richard had just reminded them both of their ability to read each other’s mind; one of the nice things that had resurfaced in their life together. 

“Yeah, I know, we can’t be too selfish, can we?” Richard said almost to himself.  “Particularly to your mum and dad.  “We’d better tell ’em what’s goin’ on.” 

He picked up his Telemailer, scanned their number and handed it to Peter. 

“Hey mum,” Peter said.  “I’ll put you on speaker, OK?” 

“Oh,” Jasmine’s voice came back, amplified on the speaker.  “Do I have to watch what I say, then?” 

“No, not realIy, I’m here with a strange man, but I reckon he’s heard it all.”  Jasmine’s laugh rang out clearly.  “Well I’ve got a strange one here too, and he’s your father!” 

Richard’s laugh could be heard all over the hotel.  “Oh, now I know where he gets it from Jazzy,” he roared. 

“What darling, his sense of humour or the strange behaviour?” 

“Both,” Richard yelled, whilst Peter looked a little crestfallen. 

“Mum,” Peter said, “we sort of left suddenly for this little break and we didn’t want you guys concerned at all.  The fact is, that we’re boyfriends again.” 

“Well we thought that might be the case dear, and like everyone else, we just hoped so.  Oh your father’s got our speaker hooked up now.” 

“Can you hear us guys?” came Eric Finche’s voice. 

“Loud and clear, Eric,” said Richard, his eyes sparkling. 

“Eric, can you hold the line for a minute or so?  Just talk amongst yourselves, I have to ask your son something.” 

“What are you on about?” Peter said, looking mystified, as Richard dragged him into the bathroom, shutting the door. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Jesus Christ you’re romantic.  Proposed to in a fucking bathroom.” 

“We could have a marriage of convenience.” 

“You’re insane,” he snorted, laughing.  “Marriage of convenience indeed.  What would my parents think.” 

“That’s the idea of asking you now, so they can be the first to know.”

“When do you want to do it?” 

“Last Saturday in October.” 

“Done.”  Richard looked a little sheepish.  “That’s yes, is it?” 

“Of course it is, dickhead,” replied Peter, turning and kissing him deeply.  “Now you can tell mum and dad.” 

“Oh you can.” 

“No you do it please?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I might cry.” 

“You still there, guys?” roared Richard. 

“Last weekend in October, that OK with you?” 

Eric’s voice came back clearly.  “What are you telling us Richard?” 

“Well we actually agreed on something; we thought we might get married, if that’s OK with you.” 

‘Jesus they can make some noise for fifty-something people,’ Richard thought, as Eric and Jasmine danced around their kitchen. 

*****

Peter laughed at his partner.  Sitting back at breakfast with a huge grin on his face, enjoying his food immensely, totally unromantic Richard.  He’d admitted after the call to his parents that he’d planned to do it that evening over dinner in the restaurant.  But then, he said, that sort of thing should be done in consultation with parents; at least the timing thereof.  Because Eric and Jasmine had become his parents!  So their opinion really mattered to him because his own parents refused to have him participate in their lives.  He looked across the table at Peter with a serious look on his face. 

“I didn’t fuck up, did I?  I realise that was ordinary, asking you a question like that in a place like that!  I mean, I couldn’t ask you with your mum and dad listening, and that’s the only place I could find that was private!” 

“When did you decide you were going to ask me?” Peter persisted. 

“It was part of the promise I made to myself, before I started work with Jared and the guys to lose weight, get myself off that shit and get well again mentally.  The instant you said we were on again, I was just waiting for the right moment!”  “Sorry,” he muttered.  “I’ll never make a romantic, will I!” 

Peter laughed at him over the breakfast table. 

“Dicky, none of this is news; I know you’re not the wine and roses type!  But the important thing is that you did ask me!  I just happen to think that’s so special!  Because you bloody did it!” 

He leaned over the table and kissed Richard full on the lips, much to the amusement of some of the Western District graziers enjoying their breakfast.  And much to Richard’s delight, who seemed to have suddenly developed an appetite of a different nature! 

*****

“Well dears,” said Rhonda, with a smirk at Esther, “looks like your little girl may not be the butch little thing that we thought she was!” 

“Oh,” Peter grinned, “why’s that?” 

“She’s coming in season, I’d say she’s most probably into the second day of her cycle.  And she’s suddenly swung her attention to the boys,” she said, pointing to Billy and Henry, who despite having lost their ‘family jewels’ in the process of de-sexing, were showing avid interest in Priscilla who was behaving quite like the local whore! 

“Why don’t we go home via Adam and Patrick’s and pick up Jack?” Peter asked.  “I put it off last time because you were so sick, but,” he spoke quietly into Richard’s ear; “she needs a bit of dick, just like all of us!” 

Richard roared with laughter and cuddled him. 

“You’re quite insane, life’s never dull around you.” 

“Yeah, you bring out the worst in me.” 

It was just before midday as they pulled up in front of the homestead.  Jack was just inside the back gate, as if he had been expecting them!  Priscilla was totally out of control, but allowed Richard to carry her,  “So,” as Adam had said earlier, “her scent doesn’t attract every dog in Australia!” 

Both Richard and Peter were quite ‘farm savvy’, having individually spent many weekends with Adam and Patrick over the years.  But whilst they were forced in the past to hide their relationship, this was the first time they had visited the farm as a full-on partnership.  And it felt good, spending a leisurely lunch with friends. 

The kitchen door flew open and Patrick was there, throwing his arms around Peter, and hugging him, not wanting to let go.  He did the same to Richard, and then they all laughed at each other. 

“Well thank Christ you two finally got it together.  This is the best news ever, you can imagine what Adam’s like; he’s been like a blubbering fountain ever since you rang!” 

They opened the door, the smell of the Sunday roast wafting out, and the noise of ten thousand banshees rending the air!  The twins shot across the room chased by Maurie as he tried to clean them up in readiness for the visitors who, of course had just arrived, and as Maurie said, “Oh who gives a shit anyway if they’re a bit grubby.  At least their pants are clean!” 

Adam vaulted over the couch and embraced their friends, and yes, he was his usual emotional self!  William Benson-Church, (aka Billy) and Thomas Benson-Church (aka Tommy) also raced across the room to greet the guests.  They looked up at their father, and then looked back at Patrick. 

“Patty-Mum; why’s dad crying?” said Billy. 

Patrick reached down and picked him up. 

“That’s because he’s happy, darling.” 

Tommy crawled up on the other knee, a look of concern on his face. 

“I cried when I fell over and I hurt my knee.  Is dad hurt?” 

“No darling, your dad’s just very sentimental.” 

“What’s senimenna?” 

“It’s when you’re a really nice person and you’re happy for someone else.” 

The twins looked thoughtful, nodded happily, and ran back across the room to terrorise an ever-patient Maurie.  Will Church looked over and laughed. 

“They are just so advanced for their age it’s scary,” he laughed.  “All of us have to watch what we say!” 

Tom and Mary Church walked in with Melanie Benson and her husband, Brian Petersen.  Richard and Peter suddenly realised all this was for them.  Richard in particular was touched.  He realised that Patrick and Adam had made sure as many family as possible were here to reassure him.  That being ostracised from his own family had motivated Adam and Patrick’s family to stand alongside him and Peter.  So the result was ten for lunch plus the twins. 

“You’re a bloody miracle worker, Patrick,” Richard said.  “Thank you so much for your hospitality.  Umm, there’s a bit more actually.  You wanna tell ’em?” he grinned at Peter who turned to the room;

“The last Saturday in October, are all you lot free?”