Issue 14 - September 2007

In Your Room by Alex Hogan

Australia, 1982

By the time we got out of Bathurst it was pretty late, Nick suggested we stop overnight at his olds' house in the Blue Mountains, and head off again the next day. I shrugged. So we did.

College was out for summer, and Nick and I planned to meet up with some mates and spend a lazy week on a beach somewhere on the coast north of Sydney, before Christmas came 'round. Some hot, sweaty summer days with the sunlight blasting our eyes and burning our skin - well, hopefully, tanning it. I would lull myself to sleep by conjuring up the image of Nick, sun-bronzed, with a light sweat over his shoulders, sitting in the midday sun. Ahhhh.

I'd met Nick this year. I had seen him about since I started college two years ago. It was hard to miss him; dark curls, muscular shoulders, solid chest, and dimples when he laughed, but I'd only got to know him over the last few months. He was all male and loved to spend his evenings drinking and laughing, and on the odd occasion doing some college work. I enjoyed those things too (not so much the college work), so we ended up spending many evenings hanging out together. But of course any tentative moments of possible intimacy between us he always skillfully avoided. He was the red-blooded hetero boy; no getting too close to another boy. I carefully side-stepped such moments too, didn't want to jeopardise the little bit of him I did have.

So there I was, early in the Christmas holidays, spending the night in his childhood home.

I was introduced to his parents. His mother didn't like me, I saw straight away. "Don't let the old bag get to you, Jason," Nick said later when he was showing me the house, and he flashed his grin at me to dismiss her.

During the evening meal I kept low; answering quietly and quickly, so I could say nothing wrong.

But his dad was cool, and gave us a beer, and another, and another, and played a game of Euchre with us. The mother had withdrawn somewhere to another room.

Night finally came.

"Jason can stay in Shane's room," Nick's mum told us, just as we were about to hit the hay. So, that was what she was worried about. How could she tell when Nick couldn't?

"Well, I don't want to put anyone out," I said.

The mother smiled a tired smile, as if to say 'nice try, boy.' Again I shrugged. She was wasting her worry-time; there was no way Nick would let me creep into his bed at night. I got up and stumbled my way to Shane's room.

Shane is Nick's older brother. "He's not been home for ages," Nick explained. "He does sometimes wander by between gigs, tosses down between four in the morning and four in the afternoon. Sleeps mostly. Then is gone again." I nodded to him, looking about the empty bedroom. "So- yeah, plenty of room in here," he continued, "doubt he'll be wondering in tonight," and he laughed and gave me a comradely thump on the back then left the room. See what I mean?

The room was lit by a low bulb surrounded by a paper Indian lampshade. It cast pale blue shadows around the room. I was scared it would burn. I quickly undressed. The bed was low, on a small pine bed frame. I pulled the quilt back, again an Indian design, a thick velvet damask style, if I'm not mixing my styles too much. I pulled it down low on the bed. Although it was summer, in the Blue Mountains it could get cool during the night, so I might need it. The sheets were a pale purple.

I slipped in between the sheets. The light switch was within reach of the bed.

I looked out from the bed and saw the pale blue shadows play upon the photos on the walls. They were press photos of Shane. Shane had his own band, which he had played in now for several years. I had seen him playing both locally and at concerts in Bathurst. He had even been on TV. He sang songs about the environment, and the Aboriginals, and how our government needed changing. He was slender, with fine taut muscles that rippled down his arm as he played his guitar. He had dark hair, long enough to tease his t-shirt collar; a long thin face, much like Nick's, and dark blue eyes that shone out with intelligence and deep concern for our world.

And he had a girlfriend. She sang in the band too, you could see them exchange glances and smiles in the photos.

I reached out and flicked off the light, before the paper lampshade could catch on fire. Darkness flooded the room, I felt like I had dropped out of the physical world and was floating in some spiritual no-man's land. I closed my eyes quickly so any moonlight or streetlight from outside couldn't sneak in and ruin the effect.

I didn't suppose Shane would turn up at 4:00 A.M.

Before we had got to the house, we stopped for a beer, and of course Nick's dad, who is called Dick...no comment...gave us two beers. I had them quickly, because of Nick's mum. After that he gave us a glass of wine.

As I lay on Shane's pillow, with my eyes closed tight, my head began to do a dance, slowly starting a gentle waltz, moving to one side ... I was holding a girl in my arms, and we started to turn in the dance. I didn't want to, I tried to resist, tried to keep the movement slow and in one direction, but she began to pull us into the turn. My body gave in to her insistence. As the turn began I was no longer holding her, but someone was holding me, someone taller than me, one hand firmly on my back, and his other clasping my hand tight. He pulled me fiercely around in a sharp twist ...

I groaned, and turned my body over, trying to stop the spinning in my head. I should open my eyes, that would probably help, but I didn't want to, so I kept them shut, and let the spinning take over and pull me under.

I heard a click of the door latch.

I opened my eyes. It was still night.

Where was I?

Footsteps shuffled into the room. Was it Nick sneaking in? But the footsteps weren't trying to be especially quiet. Then I remembered Nick's mum, and her accusing stare. I almost groaned again, but remembered just in time that someone was walking around in the room, and I wasn't in my room or Nick's, I was in Shane's.

I grabbed the quilt, ready to pull my head under in case the blue light went on. But it didn't. The figure walked about the room as if he/she knew it well enough that she/he had no need of the light.

My head seemed to drift up on a pillow of air, as if it were high up in the room, while my body still lay in Shane's bed. Perhaps I was dreaming. I smiled, yeah, that's it. I relaxed, and peeped around to see who the intruder was. Whoever it was hummed a soft, gentle tune. Some moonlight sneaked in through the curtains and I could make out the silhouette of the figure; long hair and a thin body that was leaning over taking off pants.

The humming was deep-a man's voice. A male body. No doubt, once the underpants came off.

I'm dreaming I'm dreaming, I kept chanting in my head. The hair was too long for Nick. Besides, it was Shane's room. I glanced around for a clock, but could see none. I wasn't game to reach out and check my own watch that lay on the floor beside the bed.

Dreaming. The figure reached out and grabbed a robe. I saw his penis swing out as he did so, just before the robe swept around and covered it. Oh, damn. The humming continued. I didn't know the song. A new one maybe? Was he composing it in his head as I lay listening? He wrapped the robe around himself. The temperature in the night air had dropped a little; it must be early morning.

A car drove along the street outside and the headlight swept up into the room and flashed over the figure, lighting up the face. I knew it. I'd seen it on stage. I had looked at it in the photos on the wall just before I went to sleep. He was in profile, his sharp chiseled nose, his lips, the long thin jaw. I quickly pulled the quilt back over my head, frightened he might see me in the light.

The car moved on, but I was too scared to move the quilt.

I felt the foot of the bed sink down. It was just as if my dog back at my home had jumped up to join me early in the morning as he so often did. My brain was still woolly; if this was a dream then maybe it really was my dog. I peeped out. I saw a small red glow in the dark. I moved the quilt further; a sweet smoky smell filled the air. It scared me momentarily. Was it a fire? I pushed the quilt back. The figure sitting on the end of the bed turned his head toward me.

As he did so I recognized the smell. Ah! It was just dope. But now he knew I was here. Although his head was in darkness, I knew he was staring at me. Shane.

"Err...hello." I said.

Suddenly his face seemed to blur into view; his penetrating eyes sitting under the dark unruly fringe, his lips, a light pink in colour, in contrast to the white of his skin. His arm was stretched out toward me. Was he reaching for me? I followed the curve of his arm as it reached out from the loose sleeve of the Japanese robe; the sinews, the muscles, clear now in the pale light, all the way over to his hand, and fingers, which were on the light switch.

I flicked my eyes back to his,and coughed uncomfortably.

"Well, hello," he said. "And who might you be, and how come you are here?"

In your bed? But he didn't ask that.

"I'm err...your mother-- that is, Nick's mother-- I mean, yes, your mother..."

He took another drag of his joint; I watched his lips curl around it.

"Nick's mother said I should sleep in here," I managed to say.

"Did she just. And why did she say that?"

"Oh....arr...I, um...I don't know."

"And what connection are you to Nick, or to Nick's mum, or my mum for that matter?"

"They are the same person, aren't they? I mean, your mum and Nick's?"

He raised one eyebrow.

"I mean- Oh God, I'm sorry."

He gave a small laugh, showing his white teeth. "Yes, they are. But what I want to know is why you are here and what does it have to do with Nick."

"Nick and I were heading off to the coast for a few days, but we didn't leave Bathurst till late yesterday, so we couldn't make it to the coast in time, before it got dark, I mean."

He smiled.

"So, we decided to stay over here," I continued. "Well, Nick did. I mean, he suggested it."

"So you're Nick's friend?"

"Yes."

"And Mum suggested you sleep in here?"

"Yes, since...since you are hardly ever here...you see."

"And she didn't want you and Nick sleeping in the same room?"

"Um--" I stared at him. How did he know? How did she know? Am I that obvious? I pulled the quilt up high, hiding my semi-hard state. Surely he hadn't seen that? "Umm...yes, it seems so."

Shane smiled, looked away to some spot in the air, and shook his head. Then he turned back to me and held the joint out to me.

We sat in silence and shared the joint.

"I like your songs." I finally managed to say.

He smiled. "Thanks kid."

"I've seen you in some concerts, with Nick. And by myself too."

He nodded and smiled again.

"And I like what you sing about."

His eyes lit up. "Excellent, excellent, there's hope for the country yet."

The joint was finished; he stubbed it out, stood up and gave a long languid stretch. The loose sleeves of his robe hung down low, revealing his arms, and his robe swung out wide, revealing his whole body. I pulled the quilt closer to me.

"Well, shove over then. I want to get into bed."

"Oh, ah, maybe I should go-"

"Na, doesn't matter. There's room enough for two."

There wasn't; it was a single bed, but I wasn't going to argue. I didn't want to cause any trouble. If he wanted to get into bed with me, I would let him. We were both lightly built people. I guess we could just fit in together.

I moved over to the side, against the wall. He flung off his robe and got in - naked. I cupped my hand over my privates, as much as I could, given that my dick kept growing bigger. I was wearing only my t-shirt, having been taught since I was a kid not to wear my undies in bed, as my balls would cook and it might make me sterile. Lot of good that information was going to do for me.

The bed sank down as the weight of his body went on it. He flicked the light switch off and the room plunged into darkness again. This time I left my eyes open and stared at the moonlight sneaking in between the gap in the curtains.

He lay out long and flat on his back, I turned to face the wall.

"You don't need to squish yourself against the wall. Let's not get into some adolescent homophobic paranoia here."

He stretched again, pushing his muscles out to the limits of his body. His legs moved in the stretch and I felt them brush my own.

"Come on, relax," he said.

I tried to, but the bed was too small for us both to lie on our backs without touching, and I wasn't going to turn around, not the state my dick was in. I loosened my body a little, and let my leg stay lying next to his. His leg felt smooth and taut. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy the touch. At first it felt cool but slowly it warmed up, and the heat of his touch seemed to swirl around my leg and slowly crawl up toward my crotch.

"Besides," he continued, "It's not you that Mum's worried about, it's Nick," and he rolled onto his side, his back to me. His leg moved away.

Nick?

I turned around; Shane's back was facing me, centimetres away, long, smooth, naked. I could have reached out and stroked it, ran my hand along his smooth contours, slipped my fingers into the cup of his waist, and reached around to his dick.

But that only happened in stories. Or dreams. But was this a dream?

Nick?

It was easy to believe this could have been a dream, with the cannabis mixing in my head along with my burgeoning hangover.

Nick?

I heard soft, regular breathing beside me. Shane wouldn't snore.

Despite the cooler air, the quilt was trapping the heat of our two bodies. It was building up between the sheets, and I could feel it start to move in waves around me and penetrate into my body.

I pushed the quilt down, letting in cool air, then eased myself down to the end of the bed. I got up and fumbled around for my own clothes, which were hidden now under Shane's. I slipped my jeans on, not able to find my underpants. Slowly I painstakingly opened the door, trying to make no sound.

"I'd go by the front way if I were you."

I looked down at him. His eyes were still closed, his breathing steady. I waited. An echoing, lonely owl sounded in the night. I started tip-toeing out of the room, and pulled the door slowly behind me.

"-that way you miss mum's room," he said, just as the door closed.

I stood still. The hallway was dark.

Which was the back way?

My head started to spin a little; I leant against the wall to stay up. I remembered that Shane's room was at the front of the house, this hallway led down to the back of the house and around a corner. Next to Shane's room, heading toward the back of the house, was the parents' room and Nick's room was down around that corner.

I started heading shakily along the hallway toward the front of the house, groping along the wall. This led into the lounge room, and at the back of that was the dining area. I remembered Nick's mum bringing food out of the kitchen into this room.

The early morning cold of the mountains started to seep in under my thin t-shirt. I wrapped my arms about myself and crept through the lounge room over to the dining area and yes, on the right wall, was a door. I pushed it open; it swung like those kitchen doors in restaurants in American comedy movies, and led to the kitchen.

The kitchen had three doors opening out from it. One I had just come through. Another I seemed to recall was the bathroom and toilet. I went over to it, stopped outside to listen, in case anyone else was in there, and then pushed the door very slowly open. It was empty. I went to close it, but thought again. There's something about opening a toilet door in the middle of the night that makes you need to go. I pushed the door open and went in. If the mother heard my moving around the house, hopefully she would think that all I wanted to do was use the toilet.

After I finished I returned to the kitchen; time to find out where that third door led. I tiptoed over and opened it a little. It creaked. The slower I opened it the more it creaked. I drew in a deep breath, then took the risk and opened the door swiftly. I stepped into the room and shut the door quickly before I knew what room I was in.

In the gloom of the night I could just make out what appeared to be lots of furniture and boxes. It seemed this was the room that held everything that everyone had nowhere else to put; the "junk room". Presumably it was once some sort of playroom for the kids when they were young. I picked my way around all the stuff, including the unused pool table, and made my way to the door on the far side.

Once I reached the other side I put my hand on the door handle, and held my breath. It opened quietly; I let out my breath and went through the door, which I hoped led to the back end of the hallway.

It did. I tiptoed along the hall. My toes seemed to crack at each step.

Nick had showed me his room before we went down to dinner. We'd checked out his cassettes and laughed at old photos from his school days. Now I think about it, there were no photos of girls, but that could simply mean he'd had no luck with them.

His door was closed. I slowly inched my way over to it, ears pricked for any sound from around the corner of the hall, where his parents' room was. There was nothing.

I stood in front of his room.

Nick.

I slowly squeezed the door handle open; the door was whisper quiet, no squeaks. I stepped in.

"Jason?"

He'd heard me. I looked quickly back to the hallway, checking for a light seeping around the corner from the mother's room. But saw none.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

I closed the door.

"Jason?"

"Well, you see, um...Shane came back."

"You're kidding?"

"Yeah. Isn't that funny? It must be like, four A.M. Ha ha ha,"

"I hadn't expected him back to town for a while yet."

"Yeah, well, and he wanted to sleep in his bed." I started to giggle.

"Well, I guess I don't keep track of exactly where he's playing these days. But I thought mum would have known."

"Yeah, well, ha ha ha." My giggling was getting out of control. "Maybe she was too worried about us to remember."

"You've been smoking dope."

"Yep, I guess so." Giggle, giggle. "Well, Shane was most hospitable," giggle, giggle. Nick was sitting up in his bed, his chest bare. The room was gloomy, but I could make out the dark circles where his nipples were.

"Shit. I'm bloody freezing," I said. "These mountain nights, God they're cold." The grog and the dope and the cold and the opportunity were all nudging me to be bold. This was it, they whispered, your big chance, you gotta pounce now, or never. "So, shove over man, I'm bloody frozen."

Nick continued to stare at me, I looked back at him, willing myself not to look away, willing myself to maintain eye contact, as much as I could in the dark.

His bed lay close to the door. He reached up to the door handle. OK, he was sending me out, back to his brother's bed. But he didn't, instead he pushed against the door, making sure it was closed tight. Then he shuffled his body to the far side of his bed, and pulled back the covers.

I went to get in, but remembered I was dressed. I smiled in embarrassment. I pulled off my t-shirt, then my jeans. "I couldn't find my underpants, in Shane's room." I blushed.

He smiled back.

I slipped in beside him. The sheets were warm where he'd been lying. He pulled the covers over me, his arm brushing my shoulder.

"Whew, that's better."

I could feel his warmth radiating from his side of the bed. His leg moved, and lay lightly against mine. It was so warm, so silky, so ... so ... so Nick.

I couldn't wait anymore. I wrapped my leg around his. He laid his other leg over mine, and reached out his arms.

"God, Jesus! Nick, I never knew."

"No, I know; I hid it well."

"But did you know, about me?"

"I'd always thought so."

"So, why the fuck didn't you say something, do something? God, I've been bloody agonising over you for weeks. You bastard." I playfully pushed him away in mock anger. He laughed and wound his arms around me.

"Jason, I want you so fuckin' much." I could feel his breath on my cheek; he pulled me closer, his flat hard chest lay against mine. I ran my fingers over his body, resting my hand in the small of his back, luxuriating in the touch of his bare skin.

He smiled and whispered my name. He copied the movements of my hand with his, running his hand down my back, resting it on my waist. A shiver ran through me. My skin was alert to his touch, waiting for his hand to move again. I slipped my own hand further down, just resting on the edge of the curve of his buttocks, my fingertips teasing the top of his crack, not game to go any further.

He leant in and kissed me quickly on the lips. I moved my head to follow the kiss. While he had me thus, seeking more, he slipped his hand around to my stomach, reached down and cupped my balls. I caught my breath. He grinned, and then moved his hand up, slowly stroking my dick, which of course engorged, and welcomed him.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Either I was asleep or fiercely day-dreaming; it couldn't be real.

He shifted his hand and rolled us over, he lying on top of me. He let the blankets fall off him. The two of us together had chased away the morning cold. I could feel the sweat building between us, but didn't mind. I pushed my groin up into him.

"Ahh, Nick!"

"Shhh!" he hissed into my ear, as he rubbed his cock up against my own. I gritted my teeth to stop myself moaning loudly. Must remember the mother next door.

"We have to do this quietly."

I let out a strangled moan, "but how?"

He grinned wickedly. "Easy." He pulled me further down the bed, so my head came off the pillow. He started kissing and licking my chest, and worked his way downward. Just as he reached my crotch he sat up. My dick was also sitting up, urgently awaiting his touch; my breathing was laboured, and noisy.

"Tut tut, you're getting noisy again," he said. "Seems we're going to have to fill your mouth, to keep you quiet." He shuffled his own body around, so we were laying head to toe. "Get the idea?" He asked. "No noise, no messy sheets."

I got the idea. Just as he reached out to take me in his mouth, I replied by doing the same to him. With both our mouths full, there was no room to let any noisy moans escape. I wondered if he was experienced in hiding these tell-tales signs from his mum, but at this moment I didn't care.

In the deep dark night, we worked together in a natural rhythm, our bodies in harmony, the ecstasy flushing through us both, from head through body into our balls. As the pressure built in each of us our rhythm mounted, he in me and me I in him. The power finally thrust through our dicks and exploded into our mouths; me drinking in the essence of my beloved Nick, and me giving my all to him.

When it was over and I had drunk my fill of his white liqueur, I moved away and he did the same. I felt my limp dick slip from his mouth just as I reluctantly relinquished his. He turned himself around and laid his head next to me. I placed my tired arm, almost as limp as my dick, over his chest. I began to tell him how fantastic that was, but he stopped my mouth with a kiss. "Shhhh." He laid his head on my shoulder, and we drifted into sleep.

****

I awoke with the eastern sun streaming in the window and onto the bed. Why the fuck wasn't that curtain closed? For a nano-second I searched inside my fuzzy brain for where I was and what I had been doing last night. Then I felt an arm around my waist and a chest against my back. I turned to look at its owner. Nick.

He was smiling at me.

"Man, my head is so fuzzy," I said. "Ugh! And my tongue so thick."

He nuzzled into my neck, then held his finger up to my mouth. "Shhh. Listen Jase, You'd better get back to Shane's room, before Mum gets up."

"But then she'll just find me in his bed, I mean, room."

But he started pushing me out. "She put you in there; that'd serve her right."

I reluctantly got out of the bed.

"And don't forget to dress.'

"I won't." I dressed quickly. "But, I can't go into Shane's room, I mean; he'll still be in bed. What'll I do?"

"I'll get up too, and we'll meet down in the lounge room."

"So, why can't we just get up together? I mean, if we are going to go to the lounge room and pretend I spent the night in Shane's room. I mean, why should I actually go back there?"

"Well, you need to get your underpants for one thing."

He grinned, then turned his back to me, snuggling into the bed.

I stared at his back. The hollow chirp of a single bird drifted into the room. I started heading for the door. "OK. Well...goodbye.., and...thanks," I said to his back.

He turned. "Thank you, Jason," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Thank you. And I can't wait till this holiday at the beach actually starts." He grinned wide.

I left the room, and started heading back the way I had come during the night. As I made my way through the rooms, it all started to feel like a dream, but I shook my head, despite the slow pounding that was starting up in there from the morning hang over, I was certain it hadn't been a dream. I cupped my hands around my dick. Definitely no dream.

I slipped into Shane's room, and tiptoed over to look for my underpants amongst Shane's discarded clothes. But there were none, of his clothes I meant. The room was dim compared to Nick's, as it wasn't facing the sun. I peered about more carefully, but there were certainly no clothes. I looked up at the bed. He was not there. The covers of the bed were still pulled back in the place that I myself had got out.

I stared at them.

Sounds of movement in the front room drifted in through the door. Nick had got up. Quickly I turned to where I thought the underpants should be; where I left them last night. And there they were, discarded on the floor behind the bed. I stuffed them into my pocket, ran my fingers through my hair and left the room, without looking back.

Nick was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. I sat at the table, shivering as I did so.

"This mountain air is way too cold for you isn't it?" he asked. I stared down at the empty plate. Nick came around the table, placed some toast on the plate, and put his arms around me. "Do you need warming?" He laid his head on my shoulder and held me tight. I could smell his hair, the same hair I had lain beside all night. I relaxed a little. However it was that I had ended up in his bed, it was a gift. I rubbed my face against his hair and whispered, "Let's get out of here and on with our holiday." He pecked me on the cheek and nodded.

He went back to preparing the cereal. "I can hear Mum stirring; doesn't take much to wake her. I'll tell her about Shane."

"No, no."

"What?"

"Well, how will you explain me? I mean, if I had stayed in Shane's room,...you know. Wouldn't she go berserk?"

"No. She doesn't worry about Shane," he said, staring hard into the bowl.

"But, you don't need to tell her."

"It doesn't matter, Jase, didn't you hear me?"

"But...Shane isn't there."

"What?" He turned around quickly.

"He was, I swear. But, he must have left early."

He stared at me. Was he was angry that I had entered his room for no reason; no other reason then to be with him?

"He was there, I swear, but he's gone now."

"Shane never leaves this early. Never."

I shook my head. "I dunno, Nick," I mumbled.

Nick's mum burst in. "What don't you know, Jason?"

Why the fuck I came here, I felt like saying. But I just shook my head again. Let Nick make something up; it's his problem.

"Jason doesn't understand why it's so cold, and yet it's summer. He comes from the western plains, he's not used to the mountains at all," and he gave a hearty laugh; a totally convincing cover-up. I looked up at his mother. Looked like she bought it.

"Well, we have to get going soon, Nick," I said, to add to the cover-up. "We haven't booked a place up at Gosford, and you know - need to get there early to find a place."

He didn't miss a beat, nodded quickly and said, "Yep, that's right Mum, that's why we're up so early, have to get moving."

He never mentioned Shane.

We left the kitchen, Nick went to his room to gather his things, I followed. Once in the room I closed the door, and went up to him.

"I swear, Nick, he was there, even though it doesn't look like he was there. Shit, mate I don't know, maybe I did dream him. Perhaps I did, yeah, I'm thinking I did. But Nick. Nick. I love you so fucking much."

He continued to stare at me - torn between closing up inside himself again or staying out. He looked toward the closed door, then around his own room, his boyhood room, filled with posters and items from his teenage years; not a picture of a girl in sight. I hung my head and started to back away, but he grabbed me. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, and buried his head into my neck. "So do I. I mean....love you, Jason," he said, his voice muffled against my skin. We stood there holding each other. Warm summer air started to seep into the room and outside I heard a bird answer the lonely call of the other bird I had heard earlier.

Nick stirred himself. "As you said before, Jase, let's get the fuck out of here."

I smiled and punched him in the arm, then went back to Shane's room to gather my wallet. I walked in half expecting Shane to be in the bed after all, but he wasn't, the room was as I had left it earlier. I looked about; the photos on the wall; the paper lampshade, remembering the evening before when I first came in. It seemed like a hundred years ago.

I pulled the quilt back over the bed and smoothed it out, ready for when Shane really did come home.

I leant over to pick up my wallet and watch on the floor by the bed. There, next to it, slipped under the bed, I saw a small metal Indian-designed ash tray, with the stub of a joint in it. Gingerly I picked up the thin hand-rolled cigarette end and put it to my lips. As I did so a faint scent came to me, it was his scent; Shane's, the individual scent of a person that you don't notice at the time, but do later when it lingers behind. I smiled and replaced the ashtray with its prize under the bed. I looked about the room but there was no other evidence at all that he had been here.

Perhaps he had done this quite often, slipped in late and left early, and no one knew.

I stood and straightened the quilt and left the room, joining Nick outside in the carport. He grinned at me and we jumped into his car, and headed off for the coast.

- END -

"I’ve been writing ever since teenage-hood when I first discovered the joy of escaping into stories, and of perhaps showing the world my own unique view.  Influenced early on by such writers as Mary Renault and D H Lawrence, I hope to try and capture some of the beauty they do. Having been lucky enough to grow up in the 1960s and escape all the hang ups of the 50s, and the returning conservatism of the 00's, I like to examine the difficulties some people have when faced with the challenge that society’s rules don’t fit them. And I also like to write quiet, gentle love (and at times erotic) stories about two people of the same gender. 

I grew up in rural Australia and currently live in a small town on the outskirts of Melbourne, a major city in Australia.  I live there with my husband and two kids, one an autistic boy, the other a shy and beautiful teenage girl, who I home-school.
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