My
Boyfriend's Due Back by Drew Payne
"Look, my boyfriend's
due back at the end of the week," Sean said.
Tommy had been lying there, admiring Sean's naked body. God, he loved sex with
Sean! Sean was passionate, yet he took his time. They'd spent most of that evening
in bed. They were lying together, naked.
"What?" Tommy's mind leapt forward. Boyfriend? Coming back? Sean already
had a boyfriend?
"Bruno, my proper boyfriend, is due home on Friday so I won't be seeing
you again after tonight."
"What, you have a boyfriend?" Tommy asked.
"Yes. Bruno's a doctor on a North Sea oil rig. He works six weeks on and
six off. When he's away I have my little affair-lets, like you and me, but when
he's back I'm faithful. There's no need for Bruno to know about them, so I can't
see you again."
"Your boyfriend's away for six weeks at a time. So you picked me up the
week your boyfriend left."
"Yes. Well, he's back on Friday so I need you out now."
"We had sex and now you dump me," Tommy snapped.
"Now I need you gone. Please get dressed and let yourself out." Sean
rolled away from him and got out of bed. A moment later and Sean had walked
out of the room.
Feeling let down and angry, Tommy sat on the side of the bed. He'd been seeing
Sean for just over five weeks and though everything seemed to revolve around
sex Tommy had hopes their relationship would grow into more. Now those hopes
were smashed. He'd been no more than "a bit of fun" for a guy who
already had a lover.
The worst part was that Sean had lied to him, led him to believe that he was
single. This realisation fuelled his anger and pushed it up until it was all
he felt. "Fucking Sean!" he hissed to himself.
Then the idea came to him. He would leave Sean's boyfriend a present. Instead
of pulling on his briefs, he bundled them up and put them in the bottom drawer
of the bedside cabinet that obviously belonged to Sean's boyfriend. He quickly
pulled on the rest of his clothes and left the flat. In those few moments he
didn't see any sign of Sean.
Over the following days Tommy found he just couldn't stop thinking about Sean,
how he'd treated him, used him, and each time he felt that hot stab of anger.
He really hoped Sean's boyfriend had found those briefs and made Sean unhappy,
as unhappy as Sean had made him.
Ten days after Sean dumped him, a Saturday night, Tommy found his libido had
become stronger than his self-pity. He wanted company, and he was feeling horny.
He decided to take himself off to Soho for the night. He intended to end his
evening in one of his favourite clubs, but began by bar-hopping the pubs on
Old Compton Street. He had only reached his second bar, The Admiral Duncan,
when a sharp voice shouted his name: "Tommy! It's fucking Tommy!"
With a jolt of surprise he looked around. Out of the crowd, his face twisted
up in anger, Sean came storming towards him.
"I want a fucking word with you!" Sean screamed.
"Yeah? Well, I don't want to see you again."
"You bastard!" Sean spat in his face. "You destroyed my relationship.
Bruno found your shitty knickers. He went off the fucking deep-end. He's gone
and thrown me out. You've fucked up my whole life, you stupid, jealous little
queen!"
"You lied to me. You told me you're single when you had a boyfriend tucked
away on an oil rig!"
"You were just a bit of fun, nothing more, but a stupid little queer like
you can't see that. Your fucking selfishness has cost me my relationship of
five years. I should break your fucking neck!"
"Look girls, turn it down or take it outside. This ain't Footballers' Wives,"
the muscular barman said, leaning over the bar and interrupting them.
"Well, this little fucker isn't worth it," Sean snarled, and stomped
away into the crowd.
"God, what did you do to her?" The barman asked.
"Found out he wasn't single."
He'd only intended to make Sean's life difficult, no more. He'd wanted Sean's
boyfriend to find his briefs and give Sean hell over them. He hadn't wanted
to break up their relationship.
God, this was all such a mess. He felt awful about it. His little act of revenge
hadn't made him feel better, hadn't eased his hurt; only left ashes in his mouth.
The results of his actions had been so different to what he'd imagined, and
it was rapidly dragging him down.
"You all right, love?" the barman asked.
"Yeah, something like that," Tommy replied, and pushed himself away
from the bar and walked out, down Old Compton Street towards Leicester Square
station, his emotions weighing heavy on him. There was no point continuing his
evening, no point looking for company. No point.