Chapter Eight

I WENT to the next session of Jujitsu alone. Sarah and Jake were doing something else again, and I spent two hours working with a man named Carl, whom I didn’t know well. He worked away and went to another club, but every so often he’d show up at the local one for a few sessions. He was incredibly strong and almost rigid when I tried to perform the usual moves on him, but it made me work hard to get the techniques right. When we finished, I was told my orange belt grading would be on Thursday.

When it came to it, Sarah and Jake were both there to watch, and cheer me on when I finished the demonstration and was advised by Ian I’d passed. It was strange not to see Marcus sitting with them, and I discovered I missed him. He’d become my mentor in Jujitsu and a friend, too. I looked forward to him getting back from Sheffield, and when he came to the club the following Sunday, I was delighted to see him—more than I expected to be. He didn’t work with me that evening—I trained with Jake—but I discovered I was seeking him out whenever I had the opportunity.

I looked at Marcus a little differently than I’d viewed him before. I noticed how broad his chest and back were and the fact that he had light-colored chest hair. I wondered what had happened to his nose to make it crooked, and I saw he had perfect teeth except for one which had grown at an odd angle. His cheeks dimpled when he smiled, and his gray eyes twinkled when he wasn’t looking serious. Was I attracted to him?

I thought about it as I lay in bed that night, waiting for sleep to take me. I hadn’t thought of Marcus that way before. After we’d talked, he’d become more of a friend, but even discovering he was gay and single hadn’t made me view him differently. Suddenly I found I liked the look of him. He was very different from the type I usually went for, when I wasn’t saying yes to anyone who asked. He was much more rugged than men I’d liked previously. I knew his hands were rough from his work as a builder, and his muscles were hard, but not huge. I didn’t know him well enough to judge, but from what he’d said to me, I guessed he was mentally tough but with a soft side. As a boyfriend, he’d probably be caring and protective, but fun, too. I wasn’t sure if I could see him as sexy, but I certainly liked the way he looked.

I rolled over and pressed my face into the pillow. I knew I was being ridiculous. He wouldn’t want me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him either. I was just glad he was back from Sheffield, and I was looking forward to the Mini meet on Wednesday. It would be fun to see what he was like when he wasn’t training someone.

There was one more session of Jujitsu before the Mini meet, and this time I trained with Marcus. I was now working toward a green belt, and the requirements for this were more down to the student than a list on a sheet of paper. The first few belts gave a number of moves, throws, and holds which had to be learned and performed, but from green upward, any or all of the things previously practiced had to be utilized in various mock attacks, with more complicated moves being added as time went on. I thought I’d probably do well at this, after Marcus and I had already tried a free-for-all the night we talked.

We spent the whole session acting out scenarios where Marcus attacked me and I defended myself. We then switched so I could practice saving myself when he deflected me by tossing me over his shoulder or by performing any of the other throws on me that I’d learnt. By the time we went to get changed, we were both sweating from the effort, and a couple of the other students complimented me on how well I was doing. Something so simple made me feel great and I beamed happily as I walked out of the club.

“It’s the Mini meet tomorrow if you’re still interested,” Marcus said from behind me.

“Yes, I’m planning to go.” A little thrill ran through me, and I dismissed it. “Eight o’clock, you said?”

“Yes, in the bar. There’s usually about fifteen of us, some with partners. They’re all really nice. There’s even a couple of female members who are real enthusiasts. When there are no shows on, we arrange some kind of event between meets so there’s something to do if it’s of interest.”

“It sounds fun. I’ll see you then.” I waited until he’d driven away before I got into my own car. I felt excited about joining the club, but I knew Sarah would probably laugh at me. To her, cars were machines to transport her from A to B, and other than fill hers with fuel and drive it through the car wash once in a while, she paid no attention to it whatsoever. I doubted it had even had an oil top-up before she met Jake. He gave it the once-over for her occasionally. My Mini was like a friend to me. I’d loved it when I bought it, and even more so when it left Colin with me, still in one piece.

On Wednesday I hurried home from work and washed the Mini, even though it would be dark by the time I got to the hotel, and highly unlikely anyone would see it. I ate dinner with Shirley and Sarah and then went to get ready. Sarah teased me and called me “sad” for going to a car club, but I knew she was pleased I was going to spend time with Marcus and his friends instead of picking up some stranger in La Rues.

I set off at half past seven and drove out of town, past the village of Laceby toward the large Oaklands Hotel. It seemed a bit over the top for a car meet, but I supposed the club used whatever venue was available. I arrived fifteen minutes early, but four Minis were already in the car park. I parked close to them and made my way inside to the bar.

A group of people sat around two tables pushed together in a corner, and I assumed they must be the club. There were eight men and two women, all chattering loudly and drinking pints of beer—or wine, in the women’s case. Marcus wasn’t with them. I leaned on the bar and ordered a drink, not having the courage to walk over and introduce myself. I stayed where I was for five minutes, sipping my lager and glancing at the clock over the bar. Noticing the time at almost five to eight, I felt stupidly nervous about seeing Marcus. It wasn’t as if it was a date, but I sort of felt like it was.

“Hey, Tommy.” He arrived at that moment and leaned on the bar next to me. “Have you been here long?”

“No, only a few minutes.” I relaxed and beamed at him. He looked good in jeans and a red shirt. His face was stubbly, and his gray eyes twinkled. “Do you want me to get you a drink?” I offered.

“Thanks, just half a lager. I’ll get the next round.”

He waited while I ordered another half pint of Carling and then led me over to the noisy group of people.

“Marcus! Late as usual,” one of the other men teased.

“Shut up, Craig. This is Tommy. Remember I told you he’s from the martial arts club I go to?”

“Yeah. Nice to meet ya, Tommy,” another of the men said. “Come and sit down.”

A couple of the people shuffled around one of the tables, making two spaces next to each other. Marcus and I sat down, and the man named Craig rapidly introduced me to the others. I wasn’t good with names and only remembered a couple of them.

By ten past eight, four more people had arrived, and the meeting began properly. A big man called Anthony led the meeting and started by welcoming me and asking about my car. Then the next show the group planned to attend, in early June, was discussed. After that, a couple of people suggested a group drive or some kind of outing to break up the monotony of the lack of car events in the early part of the year. By the time I’d been there an hour, I’d agreed to join the others on a convoy drive to Hull the following week, where we would go ice-skating and then get pizza. I’d never been on an ice-rink in my life, but I thought it would be fun to try.

The conversation changed to general chat and I spent most of the remainder of the evening talking to Marcus and one of the couples, who I learned were called Alex and Carys. Alex worked in IT, too, and Carys was a hairdresser. Everyone seemed nice, and I decided most of them could easily become friends.

The group began to disperse at ten o’clock, and I walked outside with Marcus. He wandered over to my car and watched while I unlocked the door.

“So, you really fancy this ice-skating then?”

“I’ve never tried it. I thought it might be fun, though. I’ll probably spend more time on my ass than my feet,” I joked.

“Yeah, me too.” Marcus chuckled. “We can drive over there together in my car if you want. Unless you really want to drive.”

My heart skipped, and I told myself not to be silly. He was being friendly—that was all. I didn’t understand my sudden attraction to him, and I was sure it was only that he’d been so good to me. My cock twitched in my jeans and argued the point. I cleared my throat and tried to remember what he’d said.

“Um... yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks,” I managed.

“Okay. Well, I need to get moving. Early start tomorrow. I’ll see you at Jujitsu tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. See you.” I slid into the car and started the engine. It was a cold evening, and I had to turn the heater on to clear the windscreen of steam. Marcus apparently had the same issue, and a couple of minutes later, I followed him out of the car park. We drove in convoy back to town and then turned in different directions. Marcus flashed his rear lights at me as a goodbye, and I drove off with a smile on my face.

When I arrived home, Shirley and Sarah had gone to bed, and the house was in darkness. I crept upstairs, made quick use of the bathroom, and stripped off in my room. It was still cool enough at night to need to wear something, and I put on clean boxers and a T-shirt before I slipped under the duvet.

I tossed and turned for a while, unable to go straight to sleep. I was excited about the trip out the following weekend, but in addition I found I couldn’t wait to see Marcus again the next evening. I remembered his warm smile and twinkling eyes when he greeted me, and I couldn’t help wondering if he could ever be interested in me. What was his type? Did he have a type?

Marcus was very different from any of the men I’d been with before. If I discounted those I’d met for the sole reason of getting attention, the others were all very similar—young, slim, attractive, and dark-haired. Marcus was blond, rugged, and more than ten years older than me. He was good-looking, but not in the classic sense. His crooked nose almost spoiled his other features, but I realized I’d barely noticed it tonight. His eyes were what had drawn me.

I sensed in Marcus a person who’d want to take charge, but probably not in a bossy way. I couldn’t imagine him being overbearing and possessive. I thought he’d be protective of someone he cared about, and the idea of him caring about me made me feel warm and fuzzy. He’d probably be a considerate lover, too, and I already knew he looked good under his clothes. When we changed for Jujitsu I saw him in only his boxer shorts. His body was sturdy, with tight muscles from the physical labor he did every day. I smiled to myself in the darkness as I felt my cock stiffen. I was beginning to want him, and I wondered if he could ever want me.

I let my hand drift down my body and slip inside my shorts. I was too hard to even think about sleeping yet. It had been a few days since I had a wank, and I found myself aching for release. I drew my knees up and spread them apart, then pushed my boxers down around my thighs. I grasped my length firmly in my right hand and cupped my balls in my left. It wasn’t going to take long.

I tried to think about someone else; I really did. The last thing I wanted to do was toss myself off over Marcus, and I brought up an image of one of my favorite actors in my head. He was more my usual type—tall and dark-haired—and I pictured him standing at the foot of my bed, smiling at me and unfastening his shirt. It didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, and by the time I grabbed for the tissues I kept on the bedside cabinet to prevent me from messing up the bedding, Marcus was firmly stuck in my head. He was standing at the end of the bed where the actor had been, naked except for his boxer shorts, with one hand inside them as he stroked himself.

I came hard into the wad of tissues, biting my lip in an effort to keep quiet. I tossed the tissues aside, pulled my boxers back up, and pressed my hands to my hot cheeks. I was blushing furiously, and my excitement about seeing Marcus again in less than twenty-four hours was marred by the embarrassment of having wanked over him. I wouldn’t know where to look.

I didn’t have to worry about it during training. Two new members joined the group, and Marcus was busy with them. I worked with Sarah, while Jake demonstrated and instructed. By the time I had the opportunity to train with Marcus again on Sunday, I’d almost forgotten he’d been the subject of my fantasy—almost.

The next week flew by. I worked with Marcus during each of the training sessions and talked about the Mini club in between. Marcus revealed he’d ordered some new alloy wheels for his car and planned to sell the existing ones on eBay. I could have first refusal if I was interested in them, which I definitely was. I gave him £150 for them, which I suspected was less than they were worth. They came complete with a decent set of road tires, but Marcus insisted that was all he’d be likely to get for them on eBay.

On Saturday afternoon, Marcus came over an hour before we needed to meet the others to go to Hull, and helped me fit the wheels. He had his shiny new ones on his car, and the old set crammed into the back seat and passenger seat.

Sarah caught my eye and smirked at me a couple of times from the kitchen window, and when I went in to get changed, she followed me upstairs and hovered outside my room.

“You like him.”

“Of course I like him. He’s a nice bloke.” I caught a glimpse of my flushed cheeks in my mirror and grimaced.

“You know what I mean. You light up when you see him.”

“Sarah, go away!” I hissed.

“Admit it. You fancy him. You ought to go out with him.”

“He hasn’t asked me.” I fastened my jeans and searched for a sweater. I wanted to wear something warm for ice-skating.

“You’d say yes if he did, though.”

“Maybe.”

“He likes you, too, you know. It’s obvious.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grumbled, but my heart gave a little flutter at her words.

“I do. Women know these things.”

I pulled my door open. “Well, I don’t believe you. What would he see in me? We’re just friends.”

“It’s the way he looks at you. You’ll see. Anyway, why wouldn’t he like you? You’re gorgeous, Tommy. And sweet and funny—”

“It sounds as if you’re the one who likes me,” I teased. “Sorry, Sarah, but you’ve got the wrong equipment.”

“Fuck off,” she said rudely, and giggled. “Go and enjoy yourself with Marcus.”

I grabbed a jacket and shoes on the way out. Marcus was waiting in his car, looking through a bunch of CDs he had in the glove box. He’d installed a fancy radio and CD player in the small car, and some good speakers.

“Do you want to choose one?” he offered when I’d settled myself into the passenger seat.

“Okay.” I took the CDs from him, and he turned the car around. I picked Def Leppard and put the others back in the glove box. We traveled into town and met up with the other people who were going on the ice-skating trip. There were three other Minis, and the convoy set off immediately, led by the group’s leader, Anthony, and his girlfriend. Their car was white with black racing stripes, tinted windows, and a loud exhaust system.

It took about forty-five minutes to reach the skating rink. Marcus and I didn’t talk much on the journey. I found myself tongue-tied after Sarah’s teasing, and I was relieved the music filled the silence. Marcus didn’t seem inclined to talk either, and by the time we parked with the other cars in a corner of the car park at the complex, I felt disheartened. Of course he didn’t like me like that. Sarah didn’t know anything.

The eight of us paid the charge and accepted skating boots. Alex and Carys, the couple I remembered from the meet, had two kids with them, who looked to be about ten or twelve years old. The kids immediately took off around the rink like little rockets, without an ounce of fear. I took my first step onto the slippery surface with some trepidation and clung to the waist-high barrier around the edge while I waited for the others. I knew I’d probably fall on my ass at least half a dozen times, and I only hoped some of the others would be as bad. I remembered Marcus had said he hadn’t skated before, which was a relief.

“It’s easy if you just push off and go for it,” Carys said. “If you dither around the edge, you never get going.”

“Ignore her. She spent years having lessons,” Alex told me. “She does all those twirls and jumps and other stuff. Show off.” He gave her a push, and she glided backward onto the ice with ease.

I gave it a try and moved off, although I kept my right hand close to the barrier, brushing my fingers along its surface as I shuffled my feet. Much to my surprise, I managed to get all the way around without falling over. Alex accompanied me, repeatedly pointing out Carys and their children, who looked like naturals. By the time we reached the entrance again, everyone else was on the ice, Marcus included. He looked as shaky as I felt. I still had no intention of moving away from the barrier, even after one successful lap.

“You’re doing pretty well,” he said.

“Only because I’m slow and keeping to the edge.”

“Go ‘round again. I’m right behind you.” He adopted my technique, and together we made our way around. By the end of that second lap, I felt a little more confident and decided to try to go quicker. I glided along two or three feet from the edge, next to Marcus, who matched my speed but kept his hand close to the barrier. When my over-confidence caused me to keep going straight as I came to a corner, and crash into the wall, he grabbed my arm and steadied me before my feet shot out from under me.

“My fault for showing off.” I pulled a face and then laughed.

“No, you’re doing great. Let’s go again.” Marcus let go of my arm and grasped my hand instead. I looked down, wide-eyed, as he curled his strong fingers around mine. “Is this okay?”

I jerked my head up and met his eyes. “Um... yes.”

“Great, come on.” He grinned broadly and pushed off from the side. I followed, my heart thumping wildly. We were holding hands, and I ignored the few curious glances we received and the unpleasant stares from an older couple. Maybe Sarah had been right after all. Maybe he did like me.