Before heading out, the boys turned into the sitting room where Dylan’s mom sat reading in silence. She must have heard them walk down the stairs and she looked up from her book as they entered the room
"Jamie. I didn’t know you were here." Maggie shook her head to clear the long dark hair from in front of her eyes.
"Hi, Maggie. I crept in quietly on my tippy toes." Jamie loitered in the doorway, standing slightly behind Dylan. He’d only met Dylan’s parents a handful of times, but loved them for how relaxed and accepting they were of their son’s sexuality.
Maggie placed her e-reader down on the arm of the chair. "Do you want some lunch?"
"We’re going straight back out again, Mom. And we’ve only just had breakfast."
"Oh. Jamie, you stayed at Gary’s house as well." Maggie’s eyes widened as she looked between the two of them. "Did you have fun?"
"Mom, it was a party, people stayed." Dylan hopped from one foot to the other but stayed near Jamie and the door.
"Yes. It was a great party. He’s got a lovely house." Jamie felt his face flush, as if Maggie knew what he’d done with her son, or what he wanted to do. What might have taken place upstairs a few minutes ago if they hadn’t been made aware of her presence in the house. And what he may yet do to her son—after all, it was Dylan who’d suggested an ongoing friends with benefits arrangement.
Jamie had thought it a one-time thing, two times if you counted the night and the next morning as separate events. He’d been stunned to discover Dylan wanted more; a boyfriend for the day.
"Good. I’m pleased you had a good time, and I hope you played safe." Maggie pulled a clump of stray hair from her face and brushed it behind her ear.
What could either of them say? It wasn’t as if they could deny playing, even though it was none of her business.
"Mum! It was a beach-themed social, not a party 'n' play orgy."
Just when Dylan may have pleaded for some less explicitly sex-related questions, he went and threw ‘party 'n' play orgy’ into the conversation. This family were way too frank with their topics of conversation and Jamie was too embarrassed to go there. He certainly couldn't imagine a discussion with his parents that set himself in the context of a gay sex party. Gosh, that was the stuff of very private fantasies.
"I’m thinking beach and sea. There could have been watersports." She said it so innocently.
Jamie could barely believe she was suggesting anything that didn’t involve a boat. Except he knew Dylan’s mom.
"We’re off to the barbecue now." Dylan turned toward Jamie and glanced over his shoulder, as if checking the exit route was clear. "Mum knows Greg; they work together."
Jamie didn’t need to be reminded that Dylan’s mom was a sexual health advisor, which probably explained why she was so at ease bring up sex matters in everyday conversation. This also meant that if Greg discovered Jamie and Dylan were friends with benefits, then word would probably get back to Dylan’s mom. And Jamie would be in for a whole lot of cringing embarrassment every time he met them.
"Great. Say hello to Greg for me. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Well, you know what I mean. Be good. And if you aren't good, be careful."
On their way to the next social event of the weekend, a back garden barbecue, the men bumped arms and shoulders as they strolled side by side. Jamie didn’t need the hot September sun pounding on his skin to warm him; the hot sex of Saturday night and Sunday morning left him aglow from the inside out. That was the satisfying after-effect of smoldering sex.
As they neared Colin and Greg’s home, Jamie couldn’t help but admire the two guys walking in the same direction, some distance ahead. The sort of men both Jamie and Dylan would drool over. Honestly, Jamie drooled over guys. Period. He didn’t have a type. Dylan did, and two men of his type were walking up ahead.
Jamie sighed a little. The past twenty-four hours had proved they had a magical chemistry between them and Jamie would certainly have wanted to give a go at transforming their relationship from friendship to boyfriends. For him, they worked well together on every level.
But even though Dylan wanted something more, he didn’t want Jamie completely. He didn’t want Jamie as a boyfriend. Even as they walked along now, Dylan was probably ogling the guys up ahead. Both over six feet tall with physiques that hinted they were gym buddies. And that wasn’t all. Close buddies, very close.
Jamie sensed a gay vibe that was probably undetectable to straights, just like witches and wizards passing through the world of muggles. The body language was of two gay guys flirting, only perceptible to the trained gay eye. They’d either spent the night together, or they were going to.
Conscious that it was just friendship as usual between them, and that was all Dylan wanted. Nevertheless, Jamie felt as if he were on a date with a boyfriend. Extra self-conscious. Heightened awareness of the man beside him. An eagerness to touch and explore some more. And he reigned in the temptation to comment on the talent walking in front of them. Ogling other dudes seemed inappropriate, even if he couldn’t help it.
The couple disappeared from view. They were probably headed for the same destination.
"Hey, Chris. Where did you come from?" Dylan said to a man walking across the street. He was carrying a large cardboard box. "Do you need a hand?"
"No, thanks. I’ve got it. I’ve just parked across the road." Chris glanced over his shoulder, and his gaze lingered on a figure walking away from them on the opposite side of the street.
Jamie thought the men had both emerged from the same car, but he couldn’t be sure as he hadn’t been focused on them. He was pleased to move his attention to Chris and stop dwelling on whether he was about to act or speak in a way that was inappropriate. As buddies, they absolutely discussed other guys in the lewdest and crudest ways, just between the two of them. After the last few hours as boyfriends for the day, or friends with benefits, Jamie wasn’t sure of the rules.
"What have you got in there?" Dylan asked.
"Cupcakes. It’s a box of cupcakes. I was going to bake something more adventurous; I was thinking pastries, possibly baklava. But apparently, cupcakes are in fashion right now. Everyone wants them. Dead easy to bake, the skill is in the decoration. Actually, you could go ahead and get the back gate for me. Clear the way, so to speak." Chris stopped, stood still, and waited for Dylan to take the lead.
Dylan turned to look at Jamie as they continued to walk. "You met Tom last night; this is Tom’s landlord, Chris. He’s an artist. It also seems he bakes cupcakes."
"If you don’t mind, I’m Tom’s housemate, friend, and live-in landlord all rolled into one," Chris added.
"Noted. Tom’s your friend. Chris, this is my friend, Jamie. He sells cupcakes, among other things." Dylan stepped up to a garden gate, indicating they had arrived at the house.
Jamie stopped and waited for Dylan to lead the way onto the property. "Good to meet you, Chris. So are you good at decorating cakes? I suppose it’s an artistic skill."
Dylan led them up the front path and along to the side of the house. Jamie followed, looking over his shoulder at Chris, who trailed behind.
"Nice to meet you, Jamie. Can’t shake hands, holding this box. I’ve done better cakes, these were done in a lot of a hurry, but they look okay and should taste good. Speaking of looking more than okay, when I’ve deposited them with Colin and Greg, I want to know more about how you two know each other."
Unsure whether Chris was flirting, Jamie sensed Dylan possessively bristle at the comment. Fortunately, Chris hadn't asked, so Jamie didn't have to elaborate on how he sold cakes and all other comestible products in a major supermarket.
Dylan opened the gate at the side of the cottage, which took them directly through to the rear garden. He held it open for Chris and Jamie before following them.
Chris proceeded straight into the house, presumably to unpack his goodies. Dylan slipped his arm around Jamie's shoulders. Guys stand like this together; it didn't have to be a demonstration of possession signaled to everyone else at the party. Jamie wasn't sure how to respond; he wanted to touch Dylan too, but didn't.
Even though they were relatively early, there were a fair few men and women already in the garden. Jamie spotted Tom amongst the crowd that was gathering around the masc4masc couple they'd followed.
"That's Lee, over there, and that must be his new boyfriend. I don't recognize him," Dylan whispered.
Jamie took an instant and irrational dislike to whichever one of those men was Lee because he'd heard so much about how that man featured in Dylan's dreams. Except Jamie didn't know which one was which. At least he could be pleased that Lee had a boyfriend but hoped they weren't seeking a ménage. Sandwiched between those two hunks must surely be an irresistible hot fantasy, one that appealed to Jamie, though he wished it didn't.
"I'll introduce you to Colin and Greg in a moment. That's them in their kitchen."
"Christ. You weren't kidding when you said they had an outdoor kitchen, that's crazy. Do they know this is England and not California?"
The men appeared to have their hands full, literally, with pieces of meat, sausages, and burgers. It probably wasn't the best moment to make introductions.
"So is Chris a chef, baker, or artist?" Jamie asked.
"He's an artist, or so I've heard, but I'm not sure what type. I don’t know whether he’s a photographer or painter or if he does abstract pickled animal body parts in jars."
"Jars that are placed in unmade beds. With the names of every guy he ever fucked scrawled on the headboard." Jamie knew a couple of British artists, but the household names of Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst were probably his limit.
"And handprints of dead children decorating the duvet."
"If we're playing disgusting art top trumps you may have just won. I seem to remember there are guys that worked with shit, but I'm not sure that beats yours."
"I may have made up the dead children, and I think yours are genuine artists so you can have that round." Dylan squeezed Jamie's shoulder slightly. "I am not sure whether Chris was flirting with you but if you are interested in another guy here, just say, we can always call off the boyfriend arrangement. I don't want to ruin your chances."
That had to work two ways. They had only just arrived, and Jamie felt they had to clarify the ground rules. "No. I don't want to get off with another man; I'd rather be with you today. If you have your eye set on Lee, it looks as if he already has someone. Can we agree to stick with the boyfriends for the day arrangement?"
Dylan didn't need to answer; his face said it all with his bright smile and shining eyes, an expression of the cat that got the cream. Dylan dropped his hand from Jamie's shoulder. "Come and meet the hosts."
As they covered the fifteen yards, Chris re-emerged from the house. He’d deposited the box of cakes in the kitchen—the kitchen inside the house rather than the outdoor kitchen where the guests gathered—and the grill was hot.
Dylan made introductions. Despite the mass catering commitment, Greg looked calm and friendly. Jamie could imagine he was great at his job when dealing with people who were distressed or embarrassed about possibly contracting STDs. It turned out Colin was a computer expert; Jamie didn’t understand anything Colin said about his job except that he worked from home and sometimes had to go to court. It seemed he was on the side of good: combating computer crime, not hacking.
As they chatted, Mike and Gary sidled up alongside them.
"How did your party go last night?" Colin asked.
"It went well. Lots people turned up," Gary replied.
"It was excellent. You guys missed the best party of the summer so far." Dylan held out his free hand to indicate the event they were at right then. "The best nighttime party, obviously I'm not comparing it to this one."
"I'm sorry I missed it." Chris looked at Jamie and then back at Dylan. "I take it you had an excellent night?"
Dylan replaced his arm around Jamie's shoulder. "One of the best. Like I said, the best this summer."
His stomach lurched at the public display of possession, and Jamie felt himself glow with pride from the inside.
Mike leaned in and lowered his voice, "We can see these two hooked up, but what about you, Chris, how was your night? What man kept you from coming to our place?" That was the first that Mike or Gary acknowledged something between Jamie and Dylan.
"Did I come last night? Who said I didn't?"
"Seriously?" Gary choked and spluttered on his drink. "Details I do not want to know. Spare us any more information about your one-handed pleasure."
"Darling, a man prevented me from getting to your party. He kept me in my bedroom, but didn't keep me from coming." Chris spoke in a slow, exaggerated drawl.
Mike laughed. "Thanks for clarifying that. As if we needed to know."
"So he's not here?" Colin asked, looking around the garden for a stranger.
"Sadly, no. He had to leave. Things to do today." Chris looked as if there was a story of disappointment behind the sentence, but no one pushed him.
"I think I need to shoo you guys from the kitchen, while we get things under control," Colin added.
Jamie looked around; since they’d arrived a steady trickle of people had filled the yard. Groups of people were talking and mingling. A couple was already making out under the trees at the foot of the garden as if they didn’t understand the normal rules of social behavior: where acceptable public acts of affection end and sexy times that shouldn’t take place in a garden when the neighbors can see through upstairs windows began. And maybe the horny guys at the far end of the garden had the right idea.
Jamie wouldn’t have minded dragging Dylan off to join them.
Well, not join them as such, but to replicate their public act of passion alongside them.