Make Me Soar (21 page)

Dorian was stunned into silence, his mind turning Justin’s words over and over again. Then his brain got into gear. “Did he not tell you?”

“Not a word.” There was that edge again, only this time Dorian could detect the barely concealed panic.

He took a deep breath. “But you were safe, right? I mean, you used protection?” The silence that greeted his question was almost deafening. “Aww fuck, Justin, what were you
thinking
of? You’ve seen the posters, read the articles….”

“I know, okay?” Justin’s voice rose. “Don’t
you
have a go at me too. Believe me, it’s nothing I haven’t been screaming at myself during the last week or so.” His breathing hitched.

“Okay, okay.” Dorian kept his voice soothing, but inside he was blistering with rage. How could an HIV-positive man
knowingly
fuck bareback and not inform his partner? It went beyond irresponsible, although he knew it didn’t necessarily mean a death sentence. Dorian knew that more advanced medications were being introduced all the time and that finding a cure was looking more like a reality, even though there was still a way to go.

Then Dorian considered how he must have sounded to Justin. The guy was clearly stressed out. The last thing he needed was Dorian ranting at him. He forced as much calm into his voice as he possibly could.

“Okay, let’s take this one step at a time. What was the favor you wanted to ask me?”

He listened as Justin inhaled deeply. “I… I need to go and get tested, and I wanted to ask… I know I’ve got a nerve after all this time… but I wondered if… I mean, you can always say no, but….”

Dorian saw the light. “Do you want me to come with you?” he offered.

The relief in Justin’s voice tugged at his heart.

“Would you? I didn’t want to go on my own, and well, you were the first person I thought of.”

“Why me?” It wasn’t as if they’d stayed in touch during the years since their breakup.

“The truth is, I knew you’d stay calm, not go to pieces on me like some of the losers I’ve dated. I knew I could count on you not to let your emotions get in the way.”

Dorian had no doubt that Justin meant his words as a compliment, but he was overcome with a feeling of heaviness.
Is
that
how he sees me?

He pushed the thought aside as something occurred to him. “I’m due to be tested round about now. Why don’t I come along and get tested with you?” It was nerve-racking enough being tested, even when Dorian knew he’d never done anything without a condom. He couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on in Justin’s head right then. Maybe being there to support him might make things just that little bit easier for him.

“Really? Oh, thank you.”

The gratitude in Justin’s voice brought a lump to his throat.

“O-okay, there’s a sexual health center not far from me in West Didsbury, at Withington Community Hospital. I’ll look up when they’re open and then call you to arrange a time to meet there. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine,” Dorian assured him, keeping his voice low and even. “Call me as soon as you know, and then we’ll take it from there. And Justin? Try not to worry about this. I know that’s easy for me to say, but all worrying will do is stress you out more than you already are.”

He caught Justin’s sigh. “I know you’re right. I… I just need to keep thinking positively, yeah?”

“Exactly,” Dorian said with warmth. “And you’re not on your own. Remember that.”

“Thank you so much, Dorian.” Justin’s voice trembled. “I knew it was the right thing to do, getting in touch with you. I’ll call when I have news, okay?”

“Okay.” Dorian finished the call and then sagged onto the rug. Whatever else he might have anticipated, this wasn’t it. Right then it didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen Justin for nearly six years. What was uppermost in his mind was that Justin needed him.

The door opened, and Alan came in, carrying two mugs. “That sounded like a heavy call,” he observed as he set the mugs down on the coffee table. He gestured to them. “Here’s the hot chocolate I promised you this morning. Sorry it’s a bit late, only I got… distracted.” His lips twisted in amusement, but his expression grew serious when Dorian acknowledged his attempt at humor with a halfhearted smile. “Right, you need to tell me what’s going on.” He sat on the couch next to Dorian, perched on the edge of the seat cushion, elbows on his knees.

Dorian recounted the phone conversation in its entirety. Alan listened, nodding occasionally. When it got to the part about Justin’s ex, he scowled. “What a piece of shit. I hope Justin knows his ex can be prosecuted for that.”

“Really?” Dorian doubted Justin was thinking in those terms at the moment, but it might be worth mentioning it to him at a later point.

Alan nodded. “I’ll check, but I’m pretty sure he could go to prison if he had unprotected sex and didn’t reveal his status. Are Justin’s friends sure of their facts? Because the first thing I’d be doing is contacting this guy for confirmation.”

Dorian stared into his mug at the dark, creamy-looking liquid. “I don’t think that’s even occurred to him. Right now he’s in panic mode.”

“Of course he is, and by the sound of it, you said all the right things.”

Dorian smiled at his words of praise. Alan leaned against the cushions, hands wrapped around his mug.

“By the way, offering to get tested with him was a great idea. He’s going to need support like that.” He glanced across at the window, and his eyes widened. “Oh wow, look at that.”

Dorian followed his gaze and gasped. Heavy flakes of snow were falling past the window.

They got up and went to peer out into the street. The few cars that had been parked out there had been reduced to unrecognizable white mounds. The afternoon sun had been blotted out by thick cloud, and the world was once more a blank white canvas.

As they stood there admiring the scene, Dorian felt Alan’s hand come to rest at the small of his back, lying above the brand. It seemed to him that Alan was a very tactile person. After one day in that house he’d been touched more than in the previous six months put together. Alan often touched Dorian’s arm or back when he walked past him, a gentle caress here, a light squeeze there. It took some getting used to, but Dorian was working at overcoming his…
aversion.
This was far too strong a word, but Dorian had a lifetime’s programming to undo, and it would take time.

“I think this is the perfect excuse to curl up on the couch and watch a good film.”

Dorian liked that idea. Anything to take his mind off Justin’s predicament. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help. It was now a question of waiting for him to call back.

Alan walked over to the bookshelves that housed his collection of DVDs and Blu-rays. “Why don’t you choose something? I don’t mind what we watch, although having said that, I’m not really in the mood for anything gory, if that’s okay.”

Dorian smiled. “Me neither. It feels like an afternoon for a film that makes you feel warm inside.” Then he wondered where
that
had come from. This really wasn’t like him.

Alan grinned. “Perfect. I’ll go and grab a blanket from upstairs, and we can snuggle up under it.”

He left the lounge, and Dorian stared after him.

We?

Dorian didn’t
do
snuggling. It just wasn’t
him
. So why was his face heating up at the thought of the two of them, curled up together, cozy under a warm blanket in front of a blazing fire?

What is he doing to me?

Alan returned, a thick folded blanket in his arms and a couple of pillows tucked under them. “Have you chosen a film yet?”

With a guilty start, Dorian shook his head. “Still choosing,” he lied. He perused the shelves, searching through the titles for something suitable. His gaze alighted on a familiar cover. “I know you said nothing gory, but how about a fantasy?
Dune
?”

Alan’s smile widened. “One of my favorites. Put it on.”

Dorian switched on the Blu-ray player, fed the disc into the drawer, and then put on the film and fast-forwarded through the trailers. Picking up the remote, he turned to walk to the couch and stopped at the sight of Alan lying stretched out, pillows under his head, the blanket draped over him. A blanket that he was holding up while he beckoned to Dorian to join him.

“Come on, get under here.”

Dorian swallowed.
For God’s sake, it’s just a film
.

Watching a film with Alan’s arms around him, Alan’s body pressed up against him.

Alan tilted his head and gave him a knowing look. “It’s just another step forward.”

Another step closer to Alan helping him to fly.

Dorian breathed deeply and moved to the couch. There was room enough for him to lie in front of Alan, his head coming to rest against Alan’s chest. Alan pulled the blanket over him and then slipped his arm under it to drape around Dorian.

“Doesn’t this feel good?” The words tickled Dorian’s ear.

Dorian’s heart was pounding, his breathing erratic, yet he had to admit it felt really good. “Yes, Sir.” He fought hard to concentrate on the film, willing himself to ignore Alan’s body heat, the smell of him, masculine and spicy. To his relief, Alan simply held him and watched the film, and little by little Dorian relaxed. As the film progressed, he became aware of a dull feeling in his chest, an ache he hadn’t felt before.

I never had anyone to do this with
.

Dorian wondered what else he’d missed out on.

T
HE
TV
was on, and Dorian was sitting next to him, leaning against him with Alan’s arm around his shoulders, his head against Alan’s chest. All evening there had been weather warnings, not that they’d needed them. One look out of the window was enough. The snow hadn’t stopped falling all that afternoon and evening, and the news was full of photos of abandoned cars and passengers stranded at airports. The satellite picture of the UK had been breathtaking; the whole country was a mass of white.

It had been a wonderfully relaxing day, even if Alan had suffered a few mental twinges at the thought of his edits lying unfinished on his laptop.
This is more important
. They’d watched a couple of films, broken only by making and eating dinner, and Alan had never seen Dorian looking so relaxed. But as the evening wore on, it became apparent that the lad had something on his mind. There was a distracted air about him, and now and again Alan caught Dorian glancing at him, only to look away quickly. Alan didn’t want to push him, but if it got to bedtime and Dorian still hadn’t gotten whatever was on his mind out into the open, Alan would have to say something. There was no way he’d let the day end with his submissive hiding his feelings.

It’s early days
.
It’ll take time
. Still, Alan was amazed at how far they’d come since Berlin. He was already starting to see changes in Dorian. Something about the way he’d reacted to Alan’s caresses in the shower spoke of a hunger for more, and his willingness to push his boundaries was gratifying. Alan had made a point of touching Dorian whenever the opportunity presented itself. He told himself this was for Dorian’s benefit, that he was trying to break through the shell that surrounded him, but Alan knew this wasn’t the whole truth. He was sexually attracted to Dorian—his own erection in the shower was proof enough of that—and if anything, it was growing stronger.

Fuck, that shower
. Right on cue, his shaft thickened, and Alan had to force himself not to think about how Dorian had looked—no, how he’d
sounded
—as the water had sprayed down onto them, his hands touching Dorian intimately. The noises that had poured out of that beautiful mouth had gone straight to Alan’s cock.

Not helping
.

With a concerted effort, Alan turned his mind to their conversation at the hospital. Dorian’s self-hatred finally coming to the surface was a real breakthrough. It was just a pity that he’d busted his hand in the process, but the cuts would soon heal. The episode had given Alan some valuable insight into Dorian’s mind. He’d seen the lad at Collars & Cuffs, so he doubted the guys in that apartment had put him through something he’d been unable to take, apart from the branding. Dorian was no delicate flower; he was tougher than he looked. Alan was convinced that what lay at the heart of Dorian’s distress, hurt, and anguish was how
powerless
he’d felt, in spite of all his years as a submissive, all his experience. The lad’s physical wounds were healing, some already healed. That flood of rage told Alan his mental wounds were starting to heal too.

Alan’s reflections ended abruptly when the TV died, along with all the lamps, and the room was plunged into semidarkness, save for the light from the fire.

“What the hell?” Dorian sat bolt upright, throwing off the blanket that covered his knees.

Alan crossed the lounge to gaze out of the window. “It’s a power cut. All the lights are out.” He turned back to face Dorian. “Not surprising, really, with all that snow today. It’s probably brought down the power lines. Heaven knows how long it will take them to bring the power back on.”

“The heating’s gas fired, isn’t it?”

Alan nodded as he pulled the blinds shut. “For all the good it does, yeah, but it still needs electricity to get it going, so it might get a bit cold in here. The stove is gas, thank goodness. I’ve got an old whistling kettle somewhere, so we can still have hot drinks. And there’s a kitchen drawer full of candles, so we won’t be in the dark.” He glanced toward the fire. “Not that we need them right now. It’s really nice in here with the fire going.”

The light from the fireplace played on Dorian’s face, bathing it in a warm glow. Alan sat next to him and regarded him for a moment, until Dorian turned his head to look at him.

“What?” He bit his lip. “Sorry, but it feels like you’re staring at me.”

Alan chuckled. “That’s because I am. So, are you going to tell me what’s been on your mind all evening?”