Asshole

"Alex."

"And I've built a cosy little nest in a cute little closet that's locked from the outside so don't you dare be jealous, Jer." I sighed.

"I'll never feel sorry for you Rory. Never."

"I know." He pulled me in closer and our mouths found each other, desperate and warm. "Fuck me." He whispered.

I grunted and spread his legs even wider, kneeling between them.

"Oh fuck." He groaned as I stuck my tongue up his arse. "Shit, shit, shit. Jeremy..."

"Moan my name, bitch. Remind me who you belong to." I buried my head between his legs again, panting as I teased his hole. He was sobbing and wriggling.

"Jeremy!" He whined. "Yours Jeremy, always yours. Your bitch, your whore, your boyfriend, your lover, your good boy... all yours Jer, forever."

"Not so sure about my good boy." I replaced my tongue with a finger. Fuck he was tight. Maybe he really hadn't been fucked in a while.

"Please! Please! Your good boy. I swear. Even when I fucked that whore I pretended it was you. I called him Jeremy. He kept correcting me it was really fucking annoy- ah, Jesus!" He moaned as I inserted another finger and gently stroked his prostate. I licked the pre-cum off his dick.

"Missed how leaky you are." I murmured. "Remember I used to make you wear a jock? I used to make you ruin it and walk around in it." His face blushed red and he moaned.

"Fuck. You used to make me cum in my pants and you wouldn't let me change."

"That's right. And then I used to dump a load in this fucking hot ass and make you plug it up. I wanted you to remember you were mine with every step."

"Do it." He said, his eyes bright. "Claim me. Forever."

I grinned and licked my way up his abs, making him whine as my dick grazed his little hole. I kissed him hard and deep, and his fingers wrapped in my hair.

"Rory... darling..." I paused. He blinked at me. "You are actually really fucking tight. You sure you..."

"Fuck me Jeremy or I'll write a piece about how Storm Petrels deserve to go extinct."

"You wouldn't."

"I wou- ahhh." He whined as I inserted the tip. He was so damn tight. I still wasn't convinced he could take all of me. His face was contorted in pain. I stroked his abs and paused as his thighs clenched against me. He panted. "More." He whimpered.

"Ask nicely."

"Please. Please Jeremy. I need you so bad."

I thrust in a little more. I was taking it slower than he wanted but the last thing he needed was a broken ankle and a torn asshole. I knew his limits. He growled in frustration.

"Jer, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... I just want to be your good little bottom..." I slapped him.

"You're definitely a hysterical little bottom. Chill out Ror. We're taking it slow. For once in your fucking life let me set the pace."

"Fine." I slapped him again and he gasped at the touch.

"Try again."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Hmmm, maybe you are my good boy, Rory." He melted beneath me.

"Yessss Daddyyy." I grinned and slid in a little more, watching him gasp. "Shit." He moaned. "Fuck me."

"Hold on!"

"No." He opened his eyes and grinned. He thrust himself against me, all the way, and I moaned as he clenched against me. "Shit." He grunted. "You were right, this hurts like a bitch."

"You ok, Ror?"

"Yeah. Ok. Let's just. Pause."

I kissed him as I waited.

"I love you." He whined.

"I hate you." I said lovingly as I looked in his eyes. He smiled at me.

"I hate you too."

"I hate your stupid fucking radio show,"

"I hate your Swanndri."

"I hate your cheap suits."

"I hate that stupid beard you've grown."

"I hate your vapid friends."

"I hate that your only friends are octogenarians."

"I hate your trendy diets."

His eyes glittered and he snaked his hands around my neck. He sighed and slowly moved his hips. I responded to him, thrusting a fraction deeper.

"I hate the way you look at me. Like you're disappointed in me." He sighed as I drove further into him, setting the pace as he sighed beneath me.

"I hate that you're unaffected by my disappointment."

"I hate that you think you're better than me." He pulled the hair at the back of my neck and I grunted.

"You think you're better than me! Rich and famous Rory fucking McIndoe! You would rather pretend to like some bitchy journalist than spend the night with me!" I thrust hard into him and he moaned, his mouth falling open. He whined as I pounded him.

"Because I'm fucking ashamed!" He cried out. "I fucking hate myself!" I gripped his neck tightly.

"I hate you more." He spat in my face.

"Try me." He said. "I hate that I'm almost 30 and in the closet." I slapped him, moving my hands from his neck to grab his hair. I forced him to lick the spit off me.

"I hate that I'm almost 30 and still on Grindr." He moaned and I spat in his mouth. He swallowed.

"I hate that I make fun of people for money." He was panting harder as I treated him roughly, giving as good as he got as he tore the shit out of my back with his nails. I grunted in pain, thrusting harder, and cradling my hands round the back of his neck. He pulled on a nipple and I moaned.

"I hate that I don't make a decent salary."

"I hate that I care what I look like."

"I hate that I care what I look like."

He grinned at me and held me firm, thrusting himself up on me, his hard dick scraping against my abs. I wrapped my hand slowly around it. Jesus you would think the guy had already cum, he was coated in thick fluid. Fuck he felt good. So hot and hard.

"I hate that I love it up the ass." He whimpered.

"I hate that I still have feelings for the biggest jerk I've ever known." I slowly moved my hand up his shaft, the other almost choking him underneath me. His hands had fallen to his sides and he was clutching the sheets below him.

"I hate that I've cry-wanked over you more than once." He panted.

"I hate that I listen to your stupid show every morning." His eyes flew open and we looked at each other.

"I hate that I always hope you're listening."

"I hate that I still hope one day you'll man up and be with me. Publicly."

"I hate that I'm not there yet."

We blinked at each other and I released his neck, falling into his soft, warm mouth. He wrapped his arms around me and I squeezed his dick until I heard his soft moans turn into erratic breathing. He tensed up with a moan and I held him tight as he coated our chests with his cum.

He was so hot as he shuddered beneath me. His ass clamped down on me and I gasped as I felt my own climax.

"Fuck. Rory." I cried out. He reached for me and pulled me to lie on him.

"Jeremy." He stroked my hair. "I hate you so much."

"You too." He wrapped his arms around me and held me as we drifted off to sleep.

—-

I made eggs on toast and pulled out some plain yoghurt for Rory and went to help him to the kitchen. He raised his eyebrow at my offerings and immediately helped himself to my eggs, ignoring the yoghurt.

"Thought you were on a diet?"

"Thought you were vegan?" I laughed.

"Touche." I poured us each some coffee and Rory slowly sipped his, leaning against me as I read the paper, occasionally reaching out to eat my breakfast. I slowly pushed the plate over to him and he smiled at me guiltily.

We sat mostly in silence. Rory was working on a crossword and I occasionally lent a hand. I jumped as his phone rang. He glanced at it.

"Hmmm." He muttered. "Just realised I've fallen off grid. Gerald's gonna fucking kill me." He picked it up with a sigh. "Safe to talk? Yeah. Yeah I know. I know. I know. GERALD I BLOODY KNOW. Look, we need to have a meeting ok. I haven't done anything!" I stifled a grin as he rubbed his temples. "Gerald really, is it safe to talk? Ok. Look. I think I'm starting a relationship with someone. Yeah, I know. He knows. We both know! You're gonna have to talk to him about that. Ok." My head jolted up as I heard him give out my address and he hung up with a sigh. "Well you get to meet the other man in my life."

"He's coming here?"

"Well I'm too famous to have you over and he's too rich to have you over and we can't exactly meet up in a bloody cafe can we?"

"So fucking concerned about your own privacy, its nice to see you extend the same courtesy to me."

"Fine I'll rearrange the meeting, we can meet up in Albert park with headsets on and communicate via walkie talkie."

"Good, call him back." Rory and I frowned at each other furiously for a minute before I couldn't hold it any longer and we both started laughing.

"Did you always hate me this much?"

"So much." I stood up. "We should probably shower."

--

Gerald was nothing like I expected. He was old and rotund- bet he made a good Father Christmas. He shook his head at Rory with a nice smile as he introduced himself and I offered him coffee before the three of us sat down.

"I imagine this has been going on for some time." He said .

"13 years on and off." Rory shrugged. "I know we can't be public but we have to be able to see each other privately. We'll die."

"God you're so fucking dramatic." I spoke up. Gerald laughed. "We won't die but I will be fucking pissed off." Gerald nodded.

"We can make it work." He said. "It's gonna be a bit of a bitch for both of you, I won't lie."

"What's new when it comes to Rory?"

"Because you're so fucking easy to get along with."

"You were getting along just fine with me last night."

"Boys!" Gerald barked. He looked between us. "Are you always like this?" Rory and I shrugged at each other.

"Well I'm glad you found each other." He said with a twinkle in his eye. "Don't imagine anyone else can stand it."

"Tell me about it." I grumbled. Rory hit me playfully.

"What, you want someone sweet and docile with no fight? Plenty of holes out there Jer."

"Good point. Dunno why we're bothering with this. Anyway where's the stupid fucking NDA I have to sign?"

I was joking, but Gerald really did want to draw one up. Just to cover everyone's ass, he said. We were on the second pot of coffee and trying to get something we could all agree to when the downstairs door opened. Rory's head flew up.

"The fuck?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "That better be your fucking mother."

"Like you have any right to know who has my key." I got up and called downstairs. "It'll be Mr Rendall. He looks after Oban when I'm away."

"He can't come up." Rory froze.

"You really think everyone who meets you is trying to out you to the papers, don't you? He doesn't give a shit." I nevertheless launched myself downstairs with Oban in tow, apologising and explaining I was back early.

We exchanged pleasantries and I promised to pop over with cash and wine and my home brewed kombucha which I think he begrudgingly accepted rather than welcomed. I returned upstairs and sighed as I sat down.

"This sucks." I said eloquently. Rory shrugged.

"Sucks less than nothing right?" I slumped next to him at the table.

"Yeah." I took his hand. "Guess so."

--

It was the worst relationship I'd ever been in sometimes, but it was Rory. I knew what I was in for. As if I'd settle for anything less.

Obviously dating was out, but he was an amazing cook so he came over and cooked for us most nights, when he wasn't at an event. Sometimes he would even host parties at his and leave halfway through to come over. Rumours started that he had a secret girlfriend and he played it up... dropping hints here and there. The tabloids were going crazy trying to work it out. He had to get Gerald to rent different cars for him so he wasn't followed.

It was taking a toll on both of us but dealing with each other's crabbiness and bitchiness had always been part of the package. Things kind of came to head one night. I came home early from the office, skipping the gym because Rory said he'd be over soon. He wasn't over soon. He was doing shots with Nikki Kaye, and tweeting about it. I can't imagine she was any happier about those tweets than I was.

We got into an argument when he did show up... and it escalated...

"Ultimatum." He said as the two of us stood facing each other. My hand dropped to my side and Rory slowly turned to look at the dart in the wall beside him. I swallowed.

"If I wanted to hit you I would have." I said quietly. He whipped back to face me.

"You THREW A DART AT ME!" I bit my lip. "Seriously, either you get another fucking contract or I'll get you one. You are way too fucking aggressive when you're not playing sport all day." I dropped my head.

"I wouldn't really hurt you."

"Not on purpose, maybe." I sat down at the kitchen table and slumped over.

"It's been over a year and I'll be the oldest guy on the team."

"You're 28! Play for three more years and then get a cushy coaching job." I sighed.

"I'll think about it." Which meant yes.

--

That worked slightly better. He might have had a point about my aggression levels. I wrangled my way back into the Premiership easily- it looked good for diversity when I was playing, and I even successfully tried out for the Futsal Super League. I started talking to my coaches about my future career, and we worked on a coaching track for me to follow.

The Department of Conservation wanted to maintain our relationship- so I very publicly supported the work they did, and spent my time writing letters to various publications or volunteering to weed or lay traps across Auckland.

Of course, I was a football player with a growing social media presence and Rory was a sports commentator first and foremost so it was getting harder to avoid being seen together. We had to shake hands at events. I got asked about his attitude and said honestly I thought he was pathetic. He got asked about me and said honestly I proved his point about aggressive hypersexual gay men. Then we would get home and laugh at each other and make love all night. We were both a little lonely, but we both knew no one else would ever work, not really.

--

"Oh no." Not two words I want to wake up to. I blinked at him. His hair was disheveled and he looked half asleep. He was blinking at his phone.

"Oh no?" I said groggily. He held his phone out.

"A million missed calls. That's never good." I sighed.

"You say something stupid on live TV again?"

"Probably." He grinned at me. I reached for my own phone only to realise I also had a few missed calls. I blinked.

"Oh. Oh no." I said slowly. I never have missed calls. I barely have calls. I looked up at Rory. He looked at me. His hand was already dialling his manager.

I sighed as I leant back. I looked at the list of numbers. Mostly unknown, but I really should call back my mother.

"Morning mum."

"Don't morning me, were you going to tell me about Rory?"

"Who?"

"Your old friend- well. Current friend? Rory? He's all over the news." I glanced at Rory, who was bright red and apparently getting quite the dressing down from Gerald.

"I wasn't going to tell you about him." I said. "What's the deal? A Stuff hit piece?" She laughed.

"Google him." She suggested. I sighed.

"Bet Dad's thrilled." Dad hated Rory almost as much as I did.

"He's not surprised. You used to sneak out to see him all the time."

"You guys knew?!" I heard Mum laugh.

"Like you were so clever? We used to have dinner with Di and George to give you some space." I groaned.

"I'll call you back, Mum." I hung up, bright red, and glanced at Rory, who was still on the phone, his head in his hands.

I googled him and the first result was a picture of us. The two of us in my car as I dropped him off at the NewstalkZB station at 5am, my arm around his shoulder. Shit, we really shouldn't have done that... but it wasn't so bad...

I scrolled through to the article. Ok, a few more pictures. A few where we were kissing. One on my balcony where I'm grinding against him as he smoked a cigarette. Well that was him outed as a smoker as well as a faggot. Fabulous. The write up was actually well done- this wasn't your usual series of leaked paparazzi photos. This was a total dismantling of Rory's career and of my ethics.

I checked the writer. Olivia Hodge. No surprises there, I knew she could sniff out a story. I put my phone down and looked at Rory, who was still red. I stroked his shoulder.

"So what? Random hookup. You were bored. Someone dared you. You liked it more than you expected but obviously you're still only a 2 on the Kinsey scale. Obviously you were on top." Rory blinked at me.

"No." He said. "I just told Gerald we have to come out. I'm exhausted."

-Aftermath-

"No." I insisted. "You will never ever make me come on some stupid TV show to talk about you coming out to some vapid hosts for boring people who don't have shit in their own lives going on."

"You can talk about over fishing." Rory bribed me. "I'll put a caveat of two minutes for you to talk about whatever you want."

"Don't give a shit. There is no fucking way, no fucking way in the whole fucking world you will get me to do the stupid coming out press junket with you."

"It'll be easier with you." He stroked my hand and I pulled it away so he couldn't trick me with his soft touches.

"So I'll wait for you in the green room." I grunted.

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"Please?"

"What did I just say?!"

—

"So was it love at first sight?" The cheery redhead who's meant to be a little smart looks at us. I suspect she's actually a lot smart. People underestimate friendly women. I glanced at Rory. He said to be honest. He said this was him coming clean, dropping everything, exposing himself. His manager said everyone loves a good redemption arc. Rory smiled at me.

"Sort of." He said. "We met in high school. I was a jock and he was a nerd and we used to make out in the music rooms."

"I'm not sure that was love so much as hormones." I interjected. The audience laughed. Oh. Weird. I was making people laugh. She turned to me.

"So when was it love for you?" She asked. I thought about that. I looked at him and when our eyes met they crackled with the same intensity as always.

"Oh god." I said. "I think it really was love at first sight."

"Told you so." Rory grinned.

"Which doesn't mean it was like at first sight. I'm not convinced I like him to his day." I said to Samantha. The audience laughed again.

"So this has been going on since high school?"

"Well. Not this." Rory clasped my hand. "I used to beat him up."

"Can you not?" I said. "This is national TV." Rory ignored me.

"I was homophobic. It took me a while to work through it. Obviously. But... somehow... Jeremy was just there. Time and time again."

"You're going to make people sick." I said. There it was again. The laughter. Turns out I'm a goddamn comedian.

"It must have been hard." Samantha said. "Keeping it a secret. And there were some pretty harsh things said about homosexuality. You never wanted to say something?" She addressed me.

"I tell him every night he's a hypocrite and a terrible person and I'm an idiot for sticking around." Rory squeezed my hand.

"What was it you just said about being on National TV?" He muttered.

"What was it you said before we went on set about being honest?" Rory opened his mouth but the audience was laughing. I turned back to Samantha. "He thinks if I do appearances with him people will go softer on him for all the lying shit he's said and he's probably right, but don't hold back Samantha, he's a big boy." Rory gripped my hands and gave me a shrug and a warning glance. I grinned at him. I was too swept away with how much the audience was falling for me. Huh. Is this what Rory felt? No wonder he kept seeking that high. "Getting the feeling I'm not invited to the next one." I muttered as Rory did his best to break my fingers.

—

"You spotlight stealing asshole."