Asshole

"Not all gay men, come on Ror."

"You are."

"Only to make you jealous."

"It's working." I grinned.

"You jealous? Does it make you angry when you think about me with someone else?"

"Fucking furious."

"You're at a club. You and all those vapid hosts from your dumb radio station. You see me on the dance floor being felt up by some guy. He's so hot. He's even taller than me... he towers over me. His hand is in my hair and he's forcing me to my knees right there on the dance floor..."

"You fucking whore. I'm gonna fucking march over there and drag you to the bathrooms. You think you're so fucking strong don't you? But your'e so soft when you're horny. I'm going to throw you against the wall and hit you so hard..."

"I'll fight back. I'm still stronger. I'm gonna punch you in that smug fucking face..."

"Stupid slut. You shouldn't have been drinking. Your aim sucks when you drink. You don't even notice but you're on your knees. For me." I groaned as I wanked furiously.

"Can I suck you off Rory?"

"I don't let whores suck me off in public bathrooms."

"Please... fuck... Please, Rory..."

"Someones gonna walk in. You want them to see golden boy Jeremy Tio on his knees acting like a little cock slut?"

"I am a cock slut."

"You're my little cock slut. You're fucking drunk on my dick. Desperate for it..." I couldn't respond. I just grunted into the phone as I jerked myself off.

"Close." I muttered.

"Fuck yes. Breed me Jeremy, dump a load in my ass..." He knew me so well. I groaned as I came, listening for him on the other end. We panted for a minute.

"I'll see ya Friday." He said eventually.

"Uh. Yeah. Sweet."

--

-- I think you should know exactly who you're dealing with. I'm a DJ for George FM, I host a small soap box set on TVNZs Breakfast and I'm what they would call an old fashioned attention whore. If you've heard of me it's probably not for anything good. Brawling in pubs? Done that. Drunkenly yelling and taking photos of famous people? Guilty as charged. Trespassing onto Ihumatao to film what was labelled 'the most offensive thing I've ever seen' by Hilary Barry? If you say you haven't heard I'd that I know you're lying.

Which brings me to my new gig. This column. They wanted sport commentary with social commentary from someone who grew up in the age of Twitter. Lest you think I'm going to try to convince you I'm getting my act together- I want you to know you could have had someone better. The person they wanted has a great career in sport. They're a cheery, wholesome guy who's actively working to promote environmental concerns and LGBTI rights. A friend of mine, actually, although probably not anymore when he reads this.

I was at his for a dinner party a month ago and he told me how excited he was about a column he'd been casually invited to apply for. I listened to him and I thought, fuck I want that job. And it just so happened that a family friend could pull some strings. He talked me up, we had some meetings, and the gig was mine. Hail nepotism.

I know what you want to call me, and frankly I welcome it, but you can't publish that in the paper so you can save your angry letters to the Editor- he's a close friend of Daddy's anyway. You get me now, once a week on Fridays. And I know you think you want the guy with the career in sport and Chloe Swarbrick on speed dial, but trust me, you're going to love hate-reading me more than you can imagine...

So, with that said... maybe it's my fault my old mate Tio was in such bad shape for the Navy's match against the Dragons this week. Strong work from Morales as usual, picking up the slack midfield and feeding mostly to Rogerson... --

——

I signed again. Rory kept calling me but he'd gone too far. I didn't answer and I let myself start falling for the other man who'd followed me to Auckland.

Isaac was the Sea Lion guy at the Department of Conservation. Any questions about anything that verged on that, any media releases, any information needed- that was all him. He was tall and lean and a half arsed surfer. He hung out in the water a lot but I don't know how good he was. He loved me because we didn't fight like he and Bennie had. I hated him because we didn't fight like me and Rory had.

But I had sex with him more and more, and he came to every game, and I joked with him, and it made me smile when I saw him sitting with the other wife's and girlfriends, fitting right in. He had soft, kind eyes and soft lips, and a soft soul that did its best to take care of me.

So, naturally, one night we were lying in bed and his fingers were curled in my chest. I was kind of asleep but I heard him mutter.

"I love you." And I kissed the top of his forehead and as I drifted off I murmured back to him.

"Love you too, Rory."

——

He made me porridge the next morning and was quiet as I sat at the table. We listened to the radio and he turned it off with a sigh as he built up his courage.

"Who's Rory?" He said. I burned red as my brain woke up and made the connection.

"Fuck. Zac. I'm so fucking sorry. He's an ex. I'm just used to saying that, it slipped out..." Isaac stopped me.

"You talk about him in your sleep." He said quietly. "And once or twice during sex."

Oh.

"Isaac." I whispered. He blinked at me. He was so willing to believe whatever I said. "He's a cunt who got under my skin. I don't love him. I hate him. I love you." Isaac nodded slowly and pressed himself into me. He rested his head on my shoulder.

"Promise?" He said.

"Promise." I lied.

--

It was actually a relief when I found a condom in the rubbish.

At first I was confused, and kind of amused. I couldn't understand where it came from, or why... and then the gears in my head slowly clicked into place. I was mad for a minute, who wouldn't be? But after breaking a plate or two I felt... kind of smug. Maybe I didn't love Isaac but at least I wasn't cheating on him. Who was the asshole now?

I think we were actually closer than ever for a few weeks after I found out. He was sweet and obliging and doing his best to make me happy. And I was treating him like a prince because I wanted him to be in the wrong.

I didn't know if it was just the once, just the one guy... he was working late from time to time and I was spending more time at Uni to give him space. In the dumber of my horny moments I even found it hot to imagine him with someone else. Basically, in my own way, I encouraged it. Because Isaac had to be the bad guy. I was always the good guy.

It took me a few months, but when I worked it out I worked it out all at once.

He missed a game. He never missed a game. He didn't even tell me he wasn't coming, he just... didn't show up. When I looked for his face I didn't see it. So I looked where I always looked second. Rory was in the VIP box as usual, apparently in the middle of a heated argument.

I was buying wine on the way home when I bumped into Mateo Morales, probably my favourite teammate because he was generous when he needed to be but was almost always at the goalposts when I wanted him there. We caught up, he hadn't been playing because of a family thing, and he looked tired and sweaty and nervous- and it struck me as a tiny bit odd that he was at my local supermarket when he lived in town... but I didn't pry.

I got home and Isaac wrapped himself around me, practically leaping on me. He was holding me tight and asking me about the game when his phone lit up. The number wasn't saved, but I saw the words Shit and Supermarket. Huh. Small world. I looked away from the phone. I went to bed early.

"Is he better than me?" I asked as we finished brushing our teeth. Isaac froze, but he quickly shook himself out of it.

"What?" I looked at him in the mirror.

"Mateo. Is he better than me?"

For a second he looked like he was going to deny it. And then his face crumpled. Ah fuck. I didn't want him to cry. Then I was the bad guy again. I bit my lip as I tried to figure out what to do, as Isaac blinked back tears.

"Zac... "

"I... "

"Zac. It's ok. I'm not mad."

"You should be."

"I know."

Which was exactly the problem. And he begged and pleaded with me all night but I knew I had to leave him. Not because he cheated. But because I didn't give a fuck. Because I didn't love him.

—Te Hauturu-o-To—-

I returned to the main hall after my day of solitude feeling more relaxed than I had in weeks. I glanced over the team and immediately knew something was off.

Rory.

He was the only person I looked for.

I marched to our cabin. Not there either.

I drifted casually over to the group I'd left him with and they said he'd worked all day with them and wanted to go for a stroll. I rolled my eyes. Idiot. I warned them about sending an inexperienced, unfit man out for a stroll without any means of communication or guidance system and alerted Peter.

"Rory isn't here." I muttered.

"He was with you?" I groaned.

"No. I wanted a day off babysitting. I gave him to a bunch of the Uni kids and he's wandered off. He wasn't issued a walkie talkie."

"Fuck."

"We'll start a search party."

I quietly arranged it. The last thing we needed was word getting out we'd lost Rory fucking McIndoe. We let the Uni kids and journos to party while we drafted up a plan to cover the island. Everyone worked in pairs but we were an odd number.

"I'll go with you and Sue." I said to Sarah. I had every intention of breaking off if I sensed him though. Which I did. An hour and a half in I squeezed Sarah's hand. Maybe I heard his voice on the wind.

"Sarah." I murmured. "He's just down the slope."

"We'll wait." She squeezed my hand back.

I marked my descent with orange tape and headed downwards. I let my feet lead the way. I was drawn to him somehow. Sure enough, I crested over a tuft of pampas grass- hmm would have to do something about that- and I saw him, pale and ghostly in the twilight. His face was twisted in pain.

I fell to my knees beside him and carefully checked him over. His ankle was broken, but he seemed otherwise fine, if not totally fucking freezing in his t shirt and shorts. I assessed the bruises and scrapes with my flashlight.

"How bad is it?" He whispered. His voice was hoarse. He must have been screaming for hours. "Do you think I'll be able to walk again?" I glanced at him and he caught my eye. His face broke into a smile and he choked out a laugh as he looked at me. "You think I'm such a pussy, don't you? It really hurts!" His voice broke as he wailed and I found his hand. I squeezed it gently. Fuck he was cold.

"I don't think you're a pussy. I think you broke your ankle and that hurts like a bitch. You'll be able to walk again but not for a while."

Having confirmed he was basically fine I blew my whistle for Sarah. He flinched.

"What's that?"

"Letting the others know I found you. Were gonna have to get some EMTs in."

"Oh god, that's so embarrassing."

"So don't fucking wander off by yourself!"

"Can't you fix me? Aren't you some kind of Bear Grylls wilderness expert?" I snorted.

"Wilderness, maybe. Broken ankles no."

His head jerked up as he heard Sarah shuffling down the slope and he pulled his hand away. I struggled not to hit him. As if it was so important, even now.

"You found him?"

"Yeah, he's good. Well need to call a chopper in. Fucked his ankle and he's freezing. I'll stay with him, you make the call."

"Done." She disappeared up the slope and I heard the sound of her radio crackle. Rory leant into my chest and curled his fingers around me again.

"You really think in the middle of the night, when you've been missing for hours the first thing she was going to notice is we were holding hands?" Rory sighed.

"Force of habit, Jer. I'm sorry." I grunted. He blinked up at me. "I love you." He said.

—-Auckland--

He needed to be helicoptered off the island and treated for hypothermia and it was all very dramatic and I heard him mutter it was going to be a great story.

"You're coming with me." He insisted. I told him he was a fuckwit. "Agreed." He said. "But I'm a fuckwit who isn't leaving without you."

"I have a job to do."

"Jeremy. I love you. I've loved you for years. Please, they're going to fucking drag me away no matter what but if you don't come with me I think my heart will break."

"You're ..." I don't think I had the words for what I wanted to say. "A fucking nightmare Rory." I held his hand as we waited together and tried to ignore the older ladies gossiping over my shoulder. "I love you too." I sighed. "Wish I didn't."

I waited by his side in the hospital. They weren't going to allow anyone so he lied and told them I was his brother, and even though I very obviously was not his brother he flashed his eyes at them firmly and I knew no one was going to argue with Rory fucking McIndoe. We were there for hours, for x-rays and blood pressure measurements and in between he joked about how the media was going to have a field day with how poorly he lasted. He drafted up a press statement saying he refused to back down from the bet if it killed him and he was already signed up for next year.

"No!" I whined. "I am never gonna get anything done if you keep doing this!"

"Of course, it'll be different next time." He grinned at me slyly. "Because I'm gonna crawl into your bunk after lights out and make it up to you every night." I rolled my eyes and he clasped my arm- he hadn't really let me go since I found him. "I mean it Jer." He whispered. "I've been so fucking hard for you this whole time. Since you came up on the boat with that guy. Fuck I wanted to punch him so bad. I wanted to tell him you were mine Jer. And I'm yours."

"You're not mine. You're Stuff's most eligible bachelor for the third year running." He laughed.

"You'd think someone would have worked it out after this long."

"Maybe all that shit you say about nancys and fairies puts people off the scent, just a guess." He shrugged. "Or all the girls who are photographed leaving your house." He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Thought you didn't follow me." I blushed and cleared my throat. He grinned triumphantly.

"Bad habit." I admitted. "Sometimes I check up on you. Just in case you've met a guy who you come out for. So I can fight him to the death and lay my claim on you."

"God stop it Jer, too hot. The doctor is gonna come in and I'll have a fucking hard on." I grinned at him.

"So when they let you out tonight you gonna come over right? Let your big bro take care of you for a bit?" He pressed his face into my side.

"Hold me." He demanded.

--

We escaped in an Uber, without his entourage, and we took the long drive out to mine to make sure we weren't being followed.

I hadn't thought about it but I started to laugh as we reached my small apartment in St Heliers. Rory looked at me and at the stairs.

"I'm gonna have to carry you up there." I said. He sighed dramatically.

"Fine."

I unlocked the front door and got his wheelchair inside before lifting him up gently, cradling him in my arms. He let his head fall to my chest and sighed as I gently placed him on the couch.

"Smells like you." He said. "Salt, leather, sandalwood..." He jolted his head up as he heard the scratching and thumping from the other room. I held him tight so he couldn't wriggle away.

"That's Oban." I told him. He was still tense and I rolled my eyes. I whistled and Oban appeared. "My baby." He relaxed as he took in the idiot Greyhound I'd adopted a couple of years back currently bowling me over.

"I'm your baby." Rory said. I rolled my eyes.

"Oban is my baby. She loves me. She stays by my side and has never once tried to get public opinion against gay men on talkback radio."

"Well ah. One out of three... could be worse. That's that other song Meatloaf did." I laughed.

"Coffee? Tea? Whiskey?" He blinked. "Whiskey." I confirmed and started to get up to pour us some of Oban's namesake as I looked her over. I'd have to let Mr Rendall across the street know I was home early. She looked like he'd been taking good care of her.

Rory sat up on the couch when I was satisfied Oban was healthy and took the generous pour.

"So do we talk?" He asked quietly. I shrugged.

"About what? You're a fucking asshole?"

"Let's just take that as writ. Let's talk about us, Jer. Fuck, I thought I'd never see you again and then I see your name on that fucking list- rooming with me even. And it was like I was in High School again. I couldn't stop thinking of you. I went on facebook and started wanking to you, did you know that? I almost went out of my way to find that guy, Ezra..."

"Isaac."

"Fucking Isaac. I was gonna dig up some dirt on him and expose him and then I realised you weren't even together any more... god I went fucking crazy." I laughed.

"So not much has changed." He laughed. His eyes crinkled in that cute way that has women swoon.

"Jer. I can't take it anymore. Look, I know you can't forgive me. That's ok, I live with it every day. I can't forgive myself either. But we have to be together, you know that right? You have to." I looked at him as he entwined his hand with mine.

"Let me take a guess. I get to fuck you on weekends, when you get home from whatever hot gala you're attending this week? I get to watch you hold hands with women, flirt with co-hosts, say shitty stuff about me in the media and I'm meant to be grateful?" He couldn't meet my eye.

"I'll ease up on the homophobic shit." He said quietly. But I was right.

He needed to keep selling the dream. Incorrigible bastard. Most eligible bachelor. Rory Fucking McIndoe. So obviously we couldn't date.

"Which I imagine is fine for you since you don't strings." He said heatedly as we argued.

"I don't do strings with hookups." I clarified. "And even then, I usually do." I took his hand. "You've been driving me crazy for 13 years. I'm not letting you ignore me again." He winced as I crushed his knuckles.

"I know. I know. I'm yours. But I'm not joking. No one can know. It's not my brand." I glared at him until we both cracked up. Fine. Discreet it was.

—

Because at least I had him. I helped him to bed, propping him up while he showered and tried to keep his cast dry, letting him sit on my lap as he brushed my teeth, gently placing him on my bed. He blinked at me as I nestled in beside him.

"What?" I said shortly.

"You've been teasing me since I saw you." He said. "Fuck me." I groaned and lay back. He's impossible to resist. He's just plain impossible. I looked at his cast.

"Well I cant put you in a swing. You're not much good on your knees. You can't ride me."

"So on my back."

"And have your cast thumping me with every thrust? Sounds fucking great."

"Jeremy." I sighed and arranged him on his back, his legs spread.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"I've been fucking dildos bigger than you for years now."

"I meant your ankle you fucking tit." He grinned.

"Oh."

I stroked his hair, pushing it off his face.

"Better long." I told him. He smiled.

"I shaved it for charity!"

"Never again. Do Movember."

"Talk to Gerald about that." I tensed up and gripped his shoulder. "My manager!" He said quickly. "There's no one else."

"Don't lie to me."

"Jesus, you want a list? Ok, fine. I slept with Amanda and we both had to sign NDAs. Obviously not my finest performance. I brought a fucking whore home, his name was Joe. He was ok. He had to sign an NDA as well. I got really fucking drunk and offered to suck off... oh fuck I cant tell you. He's too famous... " My hand found its way to his neck and he coughed. "Colin Mathura-Jeffree!" I laughed. "Luckily he wasn't too drunk and told me I'd damage my career." I relaxed my grip a bit. "And you shouldn't be jealous because you get to be out there on Grindr hooking up with Captain Ahab..."