HAPPY CHRISTMAS NEIL & NORMAN - 3
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS NEIL & NORMAN" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
HAPPY CHRISTMAS NEIL & NORMAN
by Andrej Koymasky © 2019
written on March 23rd 1990
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by Scott
CHAPTER 3
He decided to go to the Brief Encounter again. As the train was approaching Charing Cross, for a moment he considered going to the Royal Oak or to the City Apprentice instead but then, partly out of laziness, partly out of habit, decided that he would go to the Brief Encounter as he had originally intended.
He entered the pub. Like any Saturday evening it was overcrowded but more so on the ground floor than on the one under it. He stayed downstairs. Beer mug in hand, he remained standing, looking around slowly. For the moment there wasn't anything interesting, but it was only eight o'clock. The music was not deafening but the buzzing of voices was intense. A man passed in front of him squeezing between Neil and another patron and, as he passed, he put his hand on Neil's fly, fondling him. Neil jumped back as much as the crowd allowed, and glared at him. The man looked at him, smiled and tried to fondle him again.
"Don't touch, OK?"
"Don't you like it?"
"No, these goods are not for sale!" he replied harshly.
"A shame, princess. But perhaps you came to the wrong market, didn't you?"
"Anyway don't try it again! Understand?"
The man shrugged and moved away.
Another patron beside Neil said to him, "There are some really rude people about, unfortunately."
Neil blushed, realizing that this man had seen what happened, but he nodded and said, "But possibly they are the ones who find a companion more easily..."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes, as usual." Neil answered, looking at him and thinking that unfortunately he wasn't his type. He hoped that the other wouldn't try an approach.
"My name is Michael. And yours?"
"Neil."
"Do you come here often?"
"No, once or twice a month."
"Me, a couple of times a week. But it's the first time I've seen you. Do you feel like a chat?"
"A chat? Yes, a chat is OK."
The man smiled, "I get the message, just a chat."
Neil nodded, smiling, a little embarrassed. They talked of nothing in particular. Neil was wondering how to get away from the other man without being rude, but the man, after a while, excused himself and moved away. Neil also moved about the room. He saw a really handsome boy sitting; he seemed to be alone. He looked at him for a long while, hoping to catch his eye. He would have liked to pick him up. But after a while he noticed that the boy was staring at somebody else. He followed the direction of his gaze and singled out the object of the boy's interest. He was really beautiful, with a refined, studied beauty -- someone that could have been a photo or fashion model. He was leaning against the bar, talking to a patron around fifty years old.
As usual, those whom he found attractive weren't interested in him, and those who approached him were not his type. It was like a curse. Who knows why things were always like that? Or was he just paranoid about it? After all, at times he had also been able to pick up the kind of man he liked, even if it wasn't often. But for every time he was successful, how many times had he missed out?
He wandered around again. He was looking at two boys who were talking -- he found one of them extremely attractive. He was one of the most handsome guys in the pub and he had also noticed him there on other occasions. Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see who it could be, and found himself facing Patrick, one of his colleagues from the office.
"Hey Neil! What a surprise finding you here!" his colleague said with a warm smile.
Neil felt his blood run cold and, very embarrassed, said, "I was passing by... I wanted to have a drink..."
Patrick, conscious of his colleague's embarrassment, smiled reassuringly, "Neil, you don't need to hide anything with me. If we both are here, it is for the same reason, isn't it? You have nothing to worry about, OK? But you never gave me any hint that you are gay too. A nice surprise, I must say. At least now I know I have a sister in our office", he concluded laughing.
"Me too, I'd never guessed about you," Neil murmured.
"Sure, we both act so... straight. And to think that we've been working together for five years. This is my first time here. I usually go to the Queen's Head. Do you come here often?"
"About once a month. I've never been to the Queen's Head."
"Yes, that's a shame. We could have found each other a lot earlier. But now, tell me about yourself, I'm dying to know..."
They chatted for a long time. For the last three years Patrick had been in a relationship with a former college mate. He told him that his lover worked at Scotland Yard and, therefore, that they couldn't live together because of his job in the police. They bought each other a couple more beers, and then Neil said goodbye to his colleague and went off to catch the train home. On the trip his thoughts went back to Patrick and he didn't know whether or not to be pleased about their encounter. They had parted with a promise to call each other after Christmas. Patrick wanted to introduce him to his lover. A policeman! Who knows what it would be like being in bed with a policeman? "Well", he thought, "in bed he would be just a man like any other". The fascination of uniforms... lasts until you are naked...
Reaching Lewisham, Neil walked quickly towards his home. He was feeling tired, and was longing for his bed. When he arrived at his street door, he saw a figure curled up on the threshold, leaning back against the doorframe. At once he recognized Norman by his blond hair, his green shirt and the bare feet in his sandals. He bent down and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy looked up with a start, scared, then recognized him and relaxed.
"You came back," Neil said gently.
"I fell asleep." the boy answered, standing up and stretching a little.
"You must be frozen. Have you been waiting long?"
"You said you wanted to spend Christmas with me..."
"Where did you go?"
"Have you changed your mind?" the boy asked seriously, looking him in the eye as if searching for the truth.
"Let's go upstairs, come on!" Neil said unlocking the door.
They went upstairs. Norman went over and sat on the armchair beside the fireplace slouching against it, while Neil lit the radiator. Then Neil pulled off his heavy jacket and looked at the boy.
"Have you had dinner?"
"No... but don't worry."
"I feel like eating something. Will you come into the kitchen, or would you rather stay in here?"
Norman stood up and followed him, in silence.
"I have very little, nothing special, but enough for today and tomorrow. Then, on Monday we will go shopping, OK?"
The boy sat at the table and pulled out a cigarette packet, "Will it bother you if I smoke?"
"No, I'll get you an ashtray," Neil answered and, while bending down to get the box from the cupboard, smiled to himself thinking that he had been right to buy them that morning.
He was back! He would not spend Christmas alone. He started to cook, feeling content.
"A drink, while I fix something, Norman?"
"Later, Do you have only beer?"
"There's also some gin, in the living room. Would you like some?"
"Whatever you're having. Were you an only child?"
"Yes, and you?"
"One of four. A boy, two girls and then me, the mistake. Eight years after my sisters, who are twins. They thought they'd shut up shop."
"Anyway you were born, that's the main thing, isn't it?"
"I've often wished I had never been born. It would have been better for everybody. And instead, I'm here. I've wanted to die so many times. Not to kill myself -- I wouldn't have had the courage to do that. Just to fall asleep and not wake up again. I'm too much of a coward to kill myself."
"No, I think it would be more cowardly to kill oneself... I believe that you need a lot more courage to continue living, if you know what I mean? Yes, a lot more courage..."
"Maybe. Living is not an easy thing. But then, what's the point?"
"A hundred-thousand-pound question! Since time began, men have been asking themselves that. There's no correct answer. But we keep on living."
"You... why do you keep on living?"
"Just try and stop breathing. For a while you can, but then you start to breath again. It is... a reflex. The rest of the body wants to live, even if the head doesn't want to... and it forces you to breathe. But, since I am alive, I try to do it decently, to make the most of it."
"Decently. But the world is a bog."
"A clean bog is always better than a stinking one, isn't it? Anyway, the bog is one of the most useful rooms in an apartment." Neil replied looking at him and smiling.
But Norman didn't smile. Neil set the table for two. The boy ate with quite an appetite, and Neil felt pleasure watching him eat.
During that improvised supper, Norman talked about his life, his family, and Neil listened without interrupting him. Then they went into the living room. Neil offered the boy a gin, then put on a jazz tape with the volume turned down low.
"A shame you don't have disco music."
"Do you like dancing?"
"Possibly the only time I feel OK."
"You often went to discos?"
"Every Saturday."
"With your girl?"
"And by myself. I like dancing alone too, but out there among other people. You don't need to be a couple. You dance and there is nothing else, nobody else. Just you and the music. It's great. You don't dance?"
"I went often, with Stuart."
"The university student?"
"Yes, him."
"But did you dance together? In public? Also slow dances, I mean?"
"There are gay discos too."
"I didn't know. Do you like dancing?"
"Yes. I liked looking at him dancing and thinking he was moving like that for me. He was really sensual."
"And perhaps he was dancing just for himself..."
"Possibly. He did everything just for himself."
"And you didn't realize."
It was not a question, but a statement, so Neil didn't answer.
"But maybe I was like that too, doing it just for myself. Also coming back here. It was cold outside. I was hungry. So I came back..."
"But at least you are honest. To me that's good."
"But what do you get out of this?"
"Somebody to talk to..."
"It's easy to talk to you. You really listen. At home, nobody listened to me. At work, nobody listened. In the end, you feel invisible, as if you're not there. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes, I know what it's like. You can be lonely, even in the midst of a crowd of people talking..."
"True!"
Silence. Each of them was immersed in his reflections.
"But you, why do you listen to me?"
"Because you are a person, a human being. You also listen to me, you pay attention to what I say."
"But I'm almost always doing the talking. Am I driving you crazy? If you become fed up, tell me to go fuck myself."
"Deal." Neil answered with a smile.
"You smile easily. And it isn't false -- your smile, I mean. You trust people. Do you realize I could rob you? Didn't you think about that? You don't know me."
"If you wanted to, you could have done that this morning. I was sound asleep, I didn't hear you."
"Were you disappointed?"
"A little. But you are here now."
"Yes. Listen, I like you and... for a tenner I'll come to bed with you, tonight."
"No. I don't want to buy your body. If you need money I'd rather give you a tenner."
"I thought you liked me..."
"Yes, I do like you. But you don't like doing it with men. Therefore, it's not an issue. There's no point in making love with somebody who's not interested in it. I don't see the point in selling or buying a body, for an hour of sex."
"Many do it."
"I know. But not me. I couldn't"
"I've never done it. You'd be the first."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment? No, thank you."
"Do you know that you are weird?"
"Maybe, but that's how I am."
"OK, as you like. I'm sleepy, I think I'll go to bed now."
"Would you like to sleep in the bed? Tonight I can sleep on the armchair. One night each."
"No... your bed is wide enough. It's a double bed, isn't it?"
"If you want, no problem with me. And don't worry, I won't touch you."
"I'm not worried. Let's go."
They undressed, keeping on just their underpants. While they were slipping under the quilt, Neil saw that Norman's body was rather thin and realized that with a few more pounds it would be a beautiful body. He turned off the light.
After a while, Norman asked, "Are you asleep?"
"Not yet."
"This is the first time I've slept in the same bed with a man."
"Does it bother you?"
"No. It's just my first time."
"Not for me..." Neil said, and heard the boy giggle.
It was a shame that the light was off. He would have liked to see the boy's expression while he was laughing or smiling.
Then Norman said, "I really needed a bed. It's been about two months... no three, since the last time I could afford one. I like feeling the sheets on my skin. And the quilt... it's so soft. It's made with real feathers, isn't it?"
"Yes, warm and light like a cloud..."
"A dream! Did you like the university student?"
"Physically? Yes."
"Was he skilled in bed?"
"Yes. But change the subject."
"OK, sorry. What job would have you have liked to do?"
"A reporter."
"Why didn't you?"
"I don't know. Possibly for fear of not being good at it, of being a failure. And you? What job would you like to do?"
"An astronaut. Floating in space. Seeing the stars up close. I always read science fiction, you know? Paperbacks... Bradbury, Asimov, Clark... Did you see the movie Star Wars? It was great! I saw it five times. I dreamed of being the main character... Do you think I'm silly?"
"No. I daydream at times too."
"About handsome boys?"
"Sometimes, but not always. About adventures... being a medieval knight. Have you ever visited the Tower of London?"
"Never."
"If you want, tomorrow we can go together. And we can see the Crown Jewels. Diamonds as big as an egg. Massive gold plates, swords and cups. And the crowns... Do you feel like it?"
"Why not? Diamonds as big as an egg! Who do they belong to?"
"To the Queen."
"She's lucky! I don't even have a watch. Diamonds like eggs..."
They became silent. After a while Norman said goodnight in a slightly drowsy voice and turned over. Neil soon heard him breathing deeply and rhythmically. Having him so near, almost naked, made him very uneasy, as he felt that he desired the boy but knew he dare not touch him -- even if the boy might let him do so. For a tenner. He had difficulty falling asleep.
Sunday morning he woke up and heard water running in the bathroom, got up, put on his gown and went into the living room. The door to the narrow entrance hall was wide open, and so was the bathroom door. On the white panel of the bathroom door, the sun's rays outlined the profile of Norman's body -- he was washing himself at the sink. The shadow of the curled hairs of the boy's pubes and of his half-erect member was also clearly visible.
Neil felt his heart beating strongly and deep emotion weighing down on his chest. He sat on an armchair, staring on that provocative shadow. He got a hard on, but his underpants and his gown hid it, fortunately. He would have felt ashamed if Norman had noticed it. The shadow on the door was now combing itself. Then it disappeared. A few moments later Norman came out of the bathroom, wearing just his trousers, barefoot and bare-chested.
"Up already? Was I too noisy?"
"No. It was time to get up."
"I'll make some tea while you wash up. Alright?"
"Yes, thank you. And afterward I'll fix breakfast."
Neil went to wash himself, but closed the bathroom door. He didn't want Norman noticing the shadow on the door panel. When he came out wearing his gown, the tea was ready. He prepared a hearty breakfast, and again the boy ate with pleasure and a good appetite. He was now wearing his shirt again, but was still barefoot. After breakfast, Neil went into his bedroom to dress. He heard Norman washing the dishes. He came out of the bedroom with a pair of woollen socks, a thick pullover and a jacket in his hands.
"Later, you can wear these, so when we go out you don't feel cold."
"Alright. Shall we go out now?"
"If you want."
"I'll finish dressing and we can go."
Neil put in the jacket pocket an old wallet containing two ten-pound notes. He put on his shoes and his quilted jacket and they went out. Norman slipped his hands into the jacket pockets to protect them from the cold and felt the wallet. He pulled it out.
"This was there, in the jacket."
"It's for you."
"For me?" the boy asked and opened it. He saw the money and looked Neil in the eye. "Why?" he asked simply.
"If you feel like buying something, you won't have to ask. You can't go around without a penny."
Norman didn't answer but slipped the wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.
They visited the Tower of London. They stayed there for almost four hours while Neil explained to the boy what they were seeing.
"You know everything, inside here."
"I've spent many hours here daydreaming. I like it here."
"I can see you here, as a knight. Or even as a king. In dreams it's possible, and it's free."
"Neil the First, the Conqueror."
"And me? Norman the Tower Prisoner?"
"No, I grant you a pardon, Sir Norman. You are free."
"Thank you very much. Free to starve in the borough streets." Norman answered without smiling.
They went to eat in a Chinese restaurant.
While they were going in, Norman asked, "Is it true that the Chinese eat ants and swallow's nests?"
"No, not the ants. It's true about the swallow's nests, but they are sea swallows, not the kind we've got here. Their nests are not made with small branches and mud, but with sea vegetables, and they're edible."
"In other words, it's all bollocks! People amuse themselves telling lies about others. Like that blacks are less intelligent than we are... I had a school mate, a black boy, who was the best of us all! Or even the bullshit they say about faggots. You are different, completely different."
"The majority are like me. But there are also some who are like people say, unfortunately."
"You are all right. If you like boys, it's nobody's business! Why doesn't everyone just mind their own fucking business? What one does when he fucks, or how he fucks, or with whom he fucks... is nobody else's concern, is it? Yes, you are really an OK guy."
Once out of the restaurant, they walked for a while.
"Would you like to stop and have a coffee?"
"Yes, I feel a little cold..."
"When we get home I'll give you a woollen vest. My trousers are perhaps a little big, but if you want..."
"At home it's warm."
"For when we go out again."
"But the coffee is on me. Even if it's your money."
"It's yours, not mine."
"Alright."
Neil took him to a coffee shop near Westminster. It was nice and had a cosy room upstairs. They chatted until it started getting dark. Neil felt comfortable with that boy. The only thing that disturbed him was that he hadn't see him smile -- not even once.
They went back home and Neil prepared supper. Then they looked at the TV. Later they went to bed.
Neil lay down almost on the edge of the bed, so as to be as far away as possible from Norman. From the street came the almost unending noise of the traffic. The street lamp's light was gleaming through the curtains.
"Noisy, here at your place." Norman said.
"Yes, but after a while you get used to it."
"Where I lived, in Bristol, it was quiet. My folk don't live in an apartment but in a small single house. My room was at the top, under the roof. I liked the sloping ceiling and the dormer window. In the living room, on the ground floor, there was a bay window. I also liked that. They were the only things I liked about that house. It was big enough, but so alien to me. So cold. I mean my family was cold. My mother with her paranoia about tidiness and cleanliness -- she scolded me because I used the bog after she cleaned it! She was always grumbling at me. The chair goes under the table! Why did you move that pot? Put away those stupid cartoons! Your bed is not well made, made it again! Always a litany, a ball-breaker, she was never happy with anything."
"Your brother? Your sisters?"
"Charles was my hero when I was a child. Then he also adopted the family's bad habits and ill-treated me -- I became his personal little slave. And If I didn't do quickly and properly what he ordered me to, he cuffed me and if I complained to mum or dad, they cuffed me too. My sisters... the silly gooses, they were stupid, conceited and spiteful. You should be happy to have been an only child."
"Instead I was sad at not having brothers or sisters."
"Nobody is ever happy with what they've got. But I would have liked to be an only child. Perhaps my parents would have loved me, in that case."
"But your girl, at least... she loved you, didn't she?"
"Her! She just wanted to have fun with me, to fuck. And when I did it... that bitch! That good-for-nothing bitch! I think that she made me fuck her and then said I raped her just to cover the fact that she wasn't a virgin any more!"
"It could be... But you must have had a friend, a school mate..."
"No. I couldn't invite them back home, so I couldn't go to their places to play either. My parents wouldn't allow it. "Each to his own home!" they said. But Charles and the twin sisters... they could meet with their friends, it was only me that couldn't. I never understood why. It was as if they had fun saying no to anything I liked. It makes me feel strange when you ask me to choose something, when you ask me if I feel like doing something. Even if I hadn't had that experience with that bitch, I would have had to leave home sooner or later. But I never found the courage. It is true, I am a coward after all."
"No, I don't think so. One tries to adapt, hoping that things will change for the better. It's not a question of cowardice."
"Your parents... did they love you?"
"In their way... yes."
They became silent. After a while Neil became aware that Norman was asleep. He turned to look at him. From under the quilt he could only see the face of the boy. He had a relaxed expression, almost serene. His profile, outlined by the faint gleam coming from the street through the curtains, was beautiful, painfully beautiful. Neil felt a very intense desire to kiss him. He turned the other way to avoid that tempting vision, and slowly slipped into sleep.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 4
Please, donate to keep alive Nidty site, that allows you to read these pages, Thank you - Andrej
In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is
http://andrejkoymasky.com
If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help me revising my translation into English of another of my stories, send me an e-mail at
[andrej@andrejkoymasky.com](mailto:andrej@andrejkoymasky.com?subject=Your Stories)
(I can read only English, French, Italian... Andrej)