Smoking Hot Ch. 12

Twice as long as recent chapters; more plot than porn. Two more installments after this one.

Adrian's not coping well in this chapter I'm afraid, but on the plus side we get to hear from Dan for a bit. Stick with the guys!

"You should have fucked that guy with all the tattoos," I tell Dan when we hit the sack.

"Will you stop it! I said I wasn't interested."

"You said he was well fit."

"Just because a guy's well fit doesn't mean I want to fuck him."

"You said we could look for other people."

"Sure. I know, I just asked not to be left alone while you did them, so then you said you didn't want to. I didn't think you wanted me at the sauna just for me to fuck someone else? I wanted you; is that so bad?"

"No." No, it's not.

"You didn't even seem to be looking at anyone else, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

It matters more than anything, if I can't be what he wants.

It's late and falling asleep is the best option, especially after the epic last two weeks. That big meeting on Friday went well, eventually, but it was a long day after not enough sleep for nights on end. Now, of course, I have the time but can't get to sleep.

It keeps disturbing me. He's clearly wanting just me, and for me to want just him. But I still want Laura.

More to the point, I've fucking earned Laura.

And she'd be gutted if I cancelled on her.

Dan will be bereft if I don't.

Shit.

I wake late, lounge about in bed while Dan hits the gym, and pour myself a generous glass or two while we watch telly in the afternoon. I cook a bit of dinner because then I don't have to say much.

"Thanks. Kinda nice, this couply thing, innit?"

"Aye."

I'm gonna break his wee heart. Knew he was too good for me.

I down another half-bottle while watching telly this night. Too tired to concentrate, might as well enjoy a drink.

"You're knocking them back. You OK?"

"Course I am."

He's out in the office the next day. I focus on my work well enough, but it's not good. Soon as he returns, I'm pouring. Just Glenfiddich, basic stuff. Might as well use it up.

"You're not right, Adrian. What gives? Do... do you want me to move out?"

Bless him. I don't want to lose him, but how the hell can it work?

"No. Just leave it, OK?"

"If you're sure." He heads to bed; I pass out on the sofa, crawling to bed when I wake all stiff in the night.

He gives me a kiss when he's heading out to work. "Looks like you're sick. You stay in bed - hope you feel better soon, love. Love you. Bye."

Oh, fuck.

That's not just a term of endearment; that's a declaration, that is.

Now I'm a fucking heartbreaker as well as well as a cheating bastard.

I drag myself to the lounge, make some tea and toast, text Naz to say I'm ill, and watch daytime telly. Landing on Jeremy fucking Kyle with the regulation love-rats is not fucking helping. Where's Bargain Hunt, or Escape to the Country Which Is Being Infested By Poncy Rich Couples Who All Deserve To Be Shot, when you need them, eh?

If I ditch my deal with Laura, she'll hate me. Breaking promises is the work of cads and bastards. Besides, and this is why I know I'm a fucking arsehole, I don't want to.

The other option is hurting Dan, either cheating on him or dumping him.

I don't think I could survive without him, now he's been in my life.

Which brings me back to being a two-timing cunt. I've been low in my life, but never that low.

At least I know what to do when I hate myself this much. Only one way to escape a bit.

I trot down the corner shop and ask for vodka. The cheap shit's on offer, so I return to the sofa with 70 cl of liquid happiness.

It's not happiness, really. Numbing agent, more like.

I'm not totally stupid; I pace myself, only a couple glasses an hour, just enough to blank out the shit.

I'm hoping Dan will come in around six.

He doesn't.

Couple hours later, he's still not back. I've polished off the bottle; everything is fuzzy and harmless, now.

He must have given up, gone back upstairs to Max's, me being all dour pisshead the last two days.

Fuck.

I can't manage without him.

I hurl the empty bottle somewhere towards the kitchen. It smashes on a counter and it's just too much to deal with, broken glass and sharp edges. I grab another bottle off the dresser and get to work polishing off the Glenfiddich. It's a boring dram, can hardly believe it's a single malt - it deserves to be knocked back by an alkie.

Suffice it to say, I don't notice when Dan comes in round nine, having skipped the pub after his football to come check on me instead.

_________________

"My flatmate's gone on a bender again and I can't rouse him!"

"Is this typical?" the paramedic asks.

"I know he had drink problems when his wife died a few years ago, but not since then. Just this last couple of days, don't know why..."

"Hm. He's conscious again now. And there we go... Sick again."

He listens to his radio. "Arse. You're sure it's just alcohol he's had? That's something. Look, the hospital's swarming with a major incident. Are you able to care for him, because otherwise he'll just be lying on a trolley in the recovery position, all night?

I've reamed out his airway, I don't think there'll be any more vomit to worry about aspirating. You know what to do? Great. Don't be afraid to call if he goes unconscious again, give him Diarolite if you can - here's a couple sachets to go on with. You say he's not done this for years? Probably a reason, then. Lost his job? Been dumped? Someone dead, or he's found he's got a kid? Anyway, good luck with it, mate, he's lucky to be living with you."

I shove yet more soiled bedding and clothes into the washing machine and continue my vigil, eventually falling asleep next to him. Am I just a stupid over-emotional sap? I know Adrian would say he's just a bitter bastard with a drink problem, but I thought he was more than that.

A phone rings. The sun's up, so it must be morning. About nine.

Adrian doesn't move. Those wonderful blue eyes with the little laughter lines all round are staying firmly shut. Not sure whether he's acting comatose on purpose or not.

I look at the phone on the bedside table and recognise the name. I'm suddenly desperate not to be alone dealing with this, so I pick up Adrian's floppy right hand and manage to drag his finger over the sensor to unlock the phone and answer.

What I hear is a cheerful, "How's it hanging, big lad?"

"Will? Are you the Will what's Adrian's mate from like twenty years?" My words come out in an inarticulate rush.

"Aye. Who're you, and what are you doing with Adrian's phone?" Good question.

"It's Dan. My name's Dan... I'm... I'm living with him now. But... it's all gone pear-shaped..."

"Living with him? Ha! You're a brave one! But what's happened? He on the piss again?"

"Mm. Yeah. He's normally pretty controlled with the drink. I guess you know, he won't drink alone before 8 pm, doesn't overdo it - not much, anyway, and it was all fine for the first two weeks. But this last week, suddenly he's been shit-faced every night and he won't talk to me! I had to get an ambulance out, last night?"

"You called 999? Shit. He OK now?"

"Technically conscious. Won't say anything. I think he's asleep again, now." I look over at Ade's stubbled face. Out of it, but definitely breathing.

"He talked to you, about stuff, before?"

"Yeah. I get the impression he doesn't share his emotions with many people, but somehow we got chatting when we first met, and kept on. Within a week I seemed to know him better than I knew half my own family! Or thought I did."

"Oh, aye?" The voice, similar to Adrian's, but different, more of an English cadence, pauses, as if thinking. "What's he been telling you, then? Criminal record and rehab?"

"Yeah, that. Some good stories, but that's him making light of it. Taking everything going in his twenties, heroin and all. Until Diane got hold of him."

"Uh-huh." There's a quiet mutter, as if this Will hadn't known about the smack. "What d'you know about his family?"

"One older sister with a wee girl, expecting a boy any day. Ma very Catholic, praying to St Jude he'll find a new wifey. Dad died a year before Diane did..."

"What was his da like?"

It feels horribly like an interrogation.

"Says he was a bastard, especially since what he - the dad - said was a kneecapping by the IRA but Ade thinks it might have just been a family thing with his uncles, not sure."

"He really has opened up! Not to mention giving up smoking since he met you. Look, is he conscious at the moment?"

"Technically. Off his face, though, not answering, and all crying into the pillow when he rouses a bit. Won't talk to me. I called 999 round ten, but they said if he doesn't pass out again and I know basic first aid, leave him be, just watch him."

"Shit. You sure his ma hasn't died?"

"I doubt it. She phoned yesterday evening. I had to pretend to be a colleague and that he was in some vital evening meeting with clients. I don't think it's that - he keeps muttering about being such a bastard, he doesn't deserve me..."

"Oh god. Not that again!"

"What?"

"He had some episodes like that when he got together with Diane. She got him to go for therapy, fuck knows how. Frogmarched with a bullwhip, I wouldn't be surprised." The man's voice sounds amused. "Probably means he's falling in love with you if he hasn't already."

Now that wasn't something I expected a stranger to tell me. "You reckon?"

"I know. So, my wee man, can we rely on you to be good for the daft eejit and not break his stupid fucking heart, or if not, could you just dump him now so I don't have to come round and trail ye? Me and the gang'll be doing you in style, if turns out you've hurt him more than the bleedin' wee sod's hurting himself! We'll get him back to rights, don't you worry."

"You think? Don't you worry. I want to look after him. I just don't know what to do!" I must sound pathetic, practically wailing at him. I want to believe what he's saying.

This Will laughs. "Sound man. Right, hang in there, don't let him out your sight. Sit on him if you have to. I mean it. I'll send in the heavy cavalry."

"What's that?"

"My wife Linz, and our friend Laura. Only people he listens to, I swear! Let me make a couple calls and call you back, yeah?"

I pace around the flat. Given I've got Ade's phone, I suppose I could have called Laura myself. Though given the only time I met her, I immediately waved my cock about, I'd hugely prefer not to. I can't say I'm enthusiastic about meeting her - but I'm intrigued, for sure, about anyone Ade knows so well and trusts.

Less than ten minutes later, Will phones me again. "Laura's on her way. For some reason she thought she might be better alone than having Lindsey along, which i admit I'm grateful for seeing how little sleep wee Rosie let her get last night. Can you give me your number, swap for future reference?"

"You think I'll need it?" I dictate anyway.

"Man, if you're willing to put up with our quare wee ganch, the least we can do is invite you round for dinner! Besides, the eejit said you're good craic. Come on over, when he's sorted. Any time. No, shut it, Linz!"

In the background I can hear a woman calling out, "Apparently he's 'well fit and a good ride'! I want to get a look at him!"

It's nice to hear, I suppose. I take his number. He also gives me Laura's.

I guess there's no escaping from this meeting.

"She said she'd be about an hour. Are you gonna be OK with him? Slap him about if he starts to rouse, stick him in the recovery position if he isn't already - you've done that? Don't let him leave the flat - he can't do anything too bleeding stupid if he's inside. If he tries to scarper, are you willing to try tackling him to the ground?"

I laugh ruefully. "Did that, first week we met."

"You whaa'?"

"He'd bummed a fag off someone and was about to light it. Kinda made it obvious, my old profession?"

"Which was what?"

"He hasn't said? Oh, bless him, like! I served two years in Northern Ireland. Eighth Infantry."

"What? You're military? That's brilliant! Oh, ex-army. Even so..." He's wheezing with laughter. "Oh my god, that's the best craic I've heard in my all my born days! Adrian, and a soldier boy! Linz, did you know this?" He's hiccuping in mirth. "You knew, and ye didn't tell me? You f... ahem, hi Jack!"

I think the guy's going to burst a gasket, laughing. Despite my worries, I crack a smile too.

"You know, if you were serving in Belfast, you'll get his background better than practically anyone else over here."

"I was in... Derry, but yeah." Saying Derry is deliberate. My loyalty is to Adrian, not this guy.

"Stroke City?" It's a reference to officialdom now referring to the place as Derry / Londonderry. The comedian Gerry Anderson started it, with the obvious result of him being dubbed Gerry / Londongerry... "Slightly more peaceful, I'm told. Not that it was that bad where I lived, nice suburb of North Belfast away from the tense areas, but Adrian grew up mostly in Portadown."

"He told me, north of Omagh?"

"Oh, for A-levels, yeah. His family moved. His da pissed off the wrong people, I heard. Though that bastard pissed everyone off. Like you said, could have been the IRA that done him, or the UVees, or anyone that met him. Knocked his wife about... Their new house is the only one I saw - his mam's still there. Middle of bleedin' nowhere, but more peaceful. Real peace and quiet, I mean, not just peace walls or lack of flegs... Nice place, actually."

"You've been to his house?"

"Mm. First few times we were in college, that was all a bit tense still. Late Nineties... but then a couple times before his dad died. And the funeral, o' course.

Anyway - hope you and him sort it out. I know he's a fucked up eejit, even if this is out of character for him these last few years, but he's a sound guy. Really, he is! My best mate, Ade is. Call me later, yeah?"

I go sit with Adrian again. He's sort of sleeping, mouthing things about being a cheating bastard, which is ironic given we'd only just had the chat about whether we wanted to keep things to just us. Maybe he'd cheated on Diane? But then, what would count to them as cheating that would only bother him at this late date?

I get some more water and hope he doesn't piss himself again. I don't want to lose the guy, but there have to be limits.

Half an hour later the doorbell buzzes, pushed and held down.

"Who is it?"

"Laura. Let me up, would you?"

The vaguely-familiar woman knocks on the door. She's got lots of black eyeliner and a rueful kind of smile. "Hi, Dan. We really must meet in better circumstances, sometime."

She holds out her hand and I shake it. I bet she spent most of her travel time thinking up that line. "Where is the stupid sod?" she asks.

"In bed. I think he's hiding, more'n sleeping, now."

She nods. Then looks puzzled at me and the surroundings.

"Have you moved in?"

"Yeah, nearly three weeks ago. Trial basis, we're not that daft. My flatmate wanted to move his girlfriend in..."

"And she's a right annoying pain in the arse? Ade did say. He did not say you were moving in."

She starts pacing up and down. "Has he admitted you're in a relationship yet? Or is he still swearing blind he's just having consecutive one-night stands?"

"He agreed it was more than a bunch of one-offs, more than a week ago. I'd been trying to tell him I hadn't been seeing anyone else, didn't see the need... Also I'd been seeing him every day or two since we first met; when would I have the fucking time?"

"Don't need time. It took fifteen minutes to drum you up."

"Fair enough, people find time to cop off. When would I have the energy, then?"

She gives a kind of rueful laugh. "Doesn't matter. Look, Dan, I'm horribly afraid this is kind of my fault. Arse and fuck, trust Ade to have the communication skills of a pile of mud! It's OK. He loves you, the cynical hard-boiled fucking twat that he is. Argh!"

She glares at the floor where she's just kicked, then up at me again. "Has he ever said why he decided to give up smoking?"

"No. Just that you convinced him it were possible."

"Oh, typical. Bloody headcase." She seems to be deciding what to say. "Yes, I gave him an incentive. Something to work towards. He's clearly not wanting it now. Or rather, he wants you more and by taking what was on offer, he thinks he's fucked up his life more than... Well, previous times. Argh, if only he'd said... I don't want to get in the way of you two..."

"Just a... You and him... Ah. An incentive?" I think I'm cottoning on.

"Mm. Three months off the fags, I told him. Smaller favours after two weeks, then one and two months. You get me? So I last saw him on Saturday the 13th."

"Night before I moved in. Most of my stuff was down here already."

Laura's pacing again. "Ade said he was 'moving stuff around'. Didn't mention you moving in... Tough enough getting him to admit he was still seeing you regularly, but oh! His little face when he mentions you! It just lights up!"

"What now?"

"Well. There's a question. I don't want to get between you guys, not at all. If you're committing to each other, not seeing anyone else at all, that's absolutely fine and I'll cope just fine without fucking Adrian just like I have these last twenty years. I've got a bloke at home, after all. Yes, he does know, thank you - managed to time me seeing Adrian when Dave wanted to see his other partners, so that all went quite well.

But you and him need to have a really big chat about what you each actually want from the other, not thinking what you think you know the other wants, yeah?"

"Gotcha."

"Um..." she goes all quiet - "you aren't going to dump him because he and I had a couple times being sorta friends with benefits, are you? I mean, he'd agreed to that before he even met you..."

"Course not. Just...thinking."

"Please don't think too hard. We need to go cheer him up, now."

"Sure. Just, it's odd. He was convinced I'd want to go with other guys, at a sauna last weekend. Really trying to push me into it."

"Ah. So he was doing stuff - with me, and you weren't? He'd see that as an imbalance... I can see that setting him off. Stupid bloody twit. OK, suppose I'd better face the music. Come with me?"

We both enter the bedroom. It still reeks of vomit, piss and sweat.

Laura marches straight to him and tugs his hair. "Oi, Adrian!" She taps him smartly on both cheeks. "Earth to Adrian Cullinane! Oi! You in there, you daft muppet?"

He groans. "Fuck off."

"No, I'm not fucking fucking off! You owe your chap an explanation! You haven't been cheating in any way, as I've just been explaining, which I should not have had to do! He doesn't mind what you've done with me, but I'm not going to be anyone's dirty little secret and you should make clear what sort of commitment you actually want!"

He makes some deathly groan.

"Oh, sit up! That's better. Here's more water. For god's sake, have you learnt nothing since you were a pisshead student? Now, I'm going to go back out to the living room, and the two of you are going to have a right heart-to-heart. Got it? Good."

I point out to him, 'If she hadn't made that offer, and you hadn't accepted, we'd never have met."

He grunts.

"Is this why you've been telling me to go out and do other people, because you were going to? You don't think there's a difference between something nice, agreed with a friend, and random indiscriminate sex to distract from hating yourself? Good, cos I bet she'd be pissed off if you didn't! Which gets us back to why the fuck didn't you just tell me what was going on!" My voice rises to near a shout. I want to slap him.