Page 87 of A Long Way Back
“I want to help you.”
Ink took hold of Tay’s hand. “You can’t, but that you want to means more than you can know.”
INK THOUGHT ABOUT GOING BUSKING, since Lennie had taken all his money, but he still ached and decided he’d just lie on his new bed and read while Tay was working. He put on the sheets he’d bought, slipped the pillow into the pillowcase, lay back on it and sighed with pleasure. New bed, clean sheets—bliss.
Who’d have guessed what a significant role beds would play in his life? He didn’t remember his cot but he’d spent his childhood years in a bed with a slatted base. He’d had a dinosaur duvet cover and a line of soft toys down the side against the wall, that gradually reduced down to one special bear. He didn’t like to think about his bear. His parents wouldn’t have kept it.
The next bed was a wooden bench with a PVC-covered mattress and a pillow that smelled of disinfectant, piss and misery.
Followed by a tubular metal bed with another PVC-covered mattress where he’d silently cried night after night.
Then another and another and another. Much the same. Other people’s beds were made his, whether he liked it or not.
Finally, George had taken him to where his new life would start and Ink had a room with second-hand everything, though the bed was comfortable. Except life itself became uncomfortable and he had no choice over what to do.
Then came beds made of flattened cardboard boxes, old curtains, pieces of carpet. A park bench bed. A sleeping bag under a tree, beneath a bridge, under the stars. Never a new bed. Ever. Even that childhood bed had been given to his parents by a neighbour after their daughter moved out. Ruari had got a new one from the outset.
Where Ink lay wasn’t his bed, but was his for now. His first double bed. He spread out like a starfish, then curled up tight like a hedgehog. It was lovely, so why did he have the feeling something bad was going to happen? Maybe because something had finally gone right.I like Tay. He likes me.He rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow. The feeling was probably because something bad always did happen in his life. He just had to be ready to run when he sensed the tsunami was coming.
INK WOKE TO KNOCKING. “YEAH?”
Tay pushed the door open. “You okay?”
“I fell asleep again.” Ink pushed himself up on one elbow. “I wonder if getting beaten up made me tired. Can’t think what else it might be.”
“Remember that egos are fragile? And I still have my gay guy learner plates.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”
“Bed all right?” Tay came into the room on his crutches.
“Want to try it out?”
Ah.He’d found a way to make Tay blush. Tay took his arms from his crutches and sat down.
“Finished your work?” Ink asked.
“Yep and sent it in. Someone is fiddling the books.”
Ink gently pulled him back until he was lying down and Tay scooted backwards.
“This is the best bed I’ve ever had,” Ink said.
“You haven’t even spent the night in it yet.”
Ink chuckled. “That’s true.”
“I don’t want you to. Well, not without me.” Tay leaned over and kissed him, his touch a feathery brush along Ink’s lips. “I like kissing you.”
“I knew I was right about the bed.” Ink grinned. “Kiss me again.”
Tay wasn’t gentle the next time. It was a kiss that would have blown Ink’s socks off, had he been wearing them. Lips, tongue and teeth in play, demanding Ink respond in kind. The kiss grew more desperate, their hands clutching and grabbing. Ink’s groans of pain when his bruises were touched were muffled and swallowed as they ate at each other. When the need for air finally overpowered their lust, they broke apart and panted into each other’s face, breathing each other’s air.
“Fuck,” Tay gasped. “I only came in to see if you wanted lunch.”
“You meanyou’dlike lunch.”
“Yes, please.”
