Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Not sure where this fits in yet...

I worked on this, this evening. On the slight side but I have a feeling it's helping Dev change his character's DNA.
I was still drying off when I came out of the bathroom. Tawfi held up a pair of his white Armani briefs. "To wear home."

"Just to my hotel..."

He shrugged. "A well-groomed man should always have something between him and his suit. Otherwise he is nothing but a beast dressed in human clothing. Besides, I did tear yours."

"I've torn some of my own. Never paid for 'em...except once."

"Oh? Have you stories to tell?"

"Not really. Not something you'd want to hear." I held the briefs up. "Jockeys don't cost anywhere near this much."

He just smiled. I slipped them on, and even snug they felt like silk caressing my skin. He turned me around and smoothed them over my ass then wrapped himself around me, from behind. Held me close. Nuzzled the nape of my neck.

I chuckled. "Careful, you'll get something going."

"Next time," he whispered. "I snuck three more pair into your sample case. Wear them in remembrance of me."


"Devlin, in my country it is considered rude to refuse a gift. Please don't insult me."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you." Then he rested his head on my left shoulder. "Thank you." He kept holding me, silent for a moment. Finally he sighed, "Martin would accept nothing I gave him. He didn't refuse any of them; he merely hid them in a desk drawer. I discovered them by accident. I asked him about it, the last time I saw him. He told me his company was having difficulties and his wife would wonder how he could afford such nice things. A Polo shirt is a nice thing? A Dior belt? I was so very angry." He took in a deep breath. "I am the reason we did not see each other, again. It took me three weeks to accept the truth of him. He had a wife. Children. And he was frightened he might lose them." He let out a long sigh. "I suppose he is no longer afraid."

I held his arms tight against me. "I understand him."

"You? What have you ever been fearful of?"

"My father, for most of my life. Until I stood up to him. I came home from school. College. He was upset about something or other; doesn't matter what, he was always pissed off. He tried to sling me around and...I dropped and rolled him over my back into the couch. Broke the coffee table. Startled the shit out of the son-of-a-bitch. He looked at me like he didn't know me. I didn't say anything; I just left. That was the night he died...and the night I stopped being afraid. Till now."

"What brought fear back to you?"

"You. The last few days."

He turned me to him. "How do you mean?"

"Nothin'. Things've happened that...that got me wondering if I'm just a beast in a nice suit."

He smiled and picked up my jacket. "An adequate suit. If you want a nice one, we should visit a tailor I know."

"I wear what I can afford, Tawfi. Briefs like these...they cost more than most of my pants."

He leaned against a canopy post, wary. "Are you rejecting my offering?"

"No. I know my manners. But please don't give me any more. I...I might grow to like them, too much."

A hint of confusion filled his eyes as his smile crossed his face. "As you wish."

"And I'm buyin' dinner, next time," I said as I pulled on my pants.

"That will be a novelty. I always pay the tab."

"So do I."

No comments: