Together Box Set

Colin and Martin’s First Christmas-2

“Well, you’ve passed with flying colours,” Colin said after downing a second bowl of soup. “That was smashing, thanks.”

Martin was glad. There was just something so satisfying about being able to feed someone. It was as if…Martin stopped himself from going down that road.

The two were relaxing in Martin’s front room, a room he mainly reserved for Sundays, and special visitors, not that he received many of those.

“Glad you liked it.” Mentally crossing his fingers, he asked, So, you’ll come and be our guest on Christmas Day, then?”

“Love to.”

“Great.” Martin smiled.

Hugging himself Martin began thinking about what he would make for the two of them. Turkey of course, but…

“So, you like to go to the theatre, then?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry, there’s an envelope from the West Yorkshire Playhouse on your mantelpiece.”

“Oh, it’ll be a brochure for next season’s performances, I expect. I haven’t scanned it through the computer yet.” Martin’s PC had a programme which converted printed text into synthetic speech. “Now I know what it is, I won’t need to bother with it.”

“You don’t like going?”

Martin wasn’t sure how to answer the question. He loved live theatre. The theatre management provided a special audio described commentary via infrared headsets on certain nights for visually impaired patrons. But the last time Martin had gone, he’d found himself unable to relax and enjoy the play, because he had been overly concerned with the logistics of getting to the theatre, finding his seat, obtaining a drink during the interval and getting out in time for his bus home. Martin was forced to conclude that it just wasn’t worth the hassle. It wasn’t all that much fun going to such places alone, either.

“Erm, not really,” Martin said, knowing his answer wasn’t true, but what else could he say?

“I wouldn’t mind reading the programme to you if you like. Might be fun to see what’s on.”

“No, don’t worry about it. But thanks for the offer, it’s appreciated.” Martin would rather not know what plays he wouldn’t be going to see.

“If you’re sure. Gosh, is that the time? Listen, mate, I’ll have to be making a move. I’ve got to do my gift buying for the folks back in London.” Colin pronouncing it Larndon. “Though with me being off tomorrow, I suppose I could do it then.”

“Might not be as crowded during the day,” Martin observed.

“Yeah.”

Martin heard Colin moving his TV dinner table, the spoon rattling in the now empty soup bowl. He stood up to say goodbye to his visitor. To Martin’s surprise and sheer delight, Colin wrapped his arms around him, treating him to a hug.

“I’ve really enjoyed myself.”

“Me too,” Martin said, breathlessly returning the hug.

Colin’s body was wonderfully firm and muscular.

Colin released his hold from Martin; the latter hoping his dining companion hadn’t seen the bulge in his trousers.

Martin drew in a breath to steady himself. Realising what he’d done, he attempted to cover. “CK1, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re right. I suppose you’re pretty good at picking up on smells and things.”

“Just a case of my other senses being more aware, I guess.” Martin walked out of the room and down the hallway toward the front door. “No doubt I’ll see you next week?” he said once he’d opened the door, again only family and special visitors used this entrance, everyone else used the kitchen door. But Colin was now guest of honour.

“Yeah, mate. Do you want me to bring anything, for the meal, I mean?”

Martin shook his head. “Just yourself. I’ve got it all covered.”

As soon as Martin heard Colin’s van drive away, he ran upstairs to his bathroom and fisted his meat until he came to a roaring climax. It didn’t take long.

After he’d recovered, he realised he’d forgotten to wank into a sock, which was his usual practice, doing so helped contain the mess. Martin spent the next five minutes on his hands and knees feeling round the tiles and carpet for wet spots, mopping them up with a wad of toilet paper.

* * * *

Martin spent the evening putting Operation Christmas Cheer into effect. He went onto the net and ordered a huge amount of food, including a fourteen pound turkey, three types of stuffing, cocktail sausages with bacon wrapped around them, a bag of peeled prawns and a couple of salmon steaks. He thought the latter two items would make a decent starter. Mulling over what to do as a sweet, Martin decided to dust off his grandmother’s sherry trifle recipe. It could be made the day before, and if he and Colin couldn’t face it straight after dinner, then it wouldn’t come to any harm. He was glad Colin wouldn’t be delivering the stuff; because he didn’t want him to know how much trouble he was going to.

* * * *

The next day Martin and Toby battled with the Christmas shoppers on the high street; Martin was in search of Christmas decorations. He’d never bothered with them before, After all, there’s only me to appreciate them, and I can’t see ‘em anyway, had been his motto, but enthused with a new energy, Martin decided to change all that.

Buying decorations wasn’t exactly easy for him, because he was unable to appreciate the overall visual effect. He threw himself onto the mercy of a kindly spoken saleswoman in Woolworth’s; although she was busy with other customers, Martin knew Toby had treated her to one of his most earnest pleading expressions, because she was immediately won over. Martin needed to hire a taxi to get himself, Toby and his many purchases back from the shops, but he knew that it would all be worth it. The knowledge that he’d be sharing Christmas with the kind deliveryman made it worth it.

* * * *

The next week sped by for Colin. He was worked hard, people seemed to be taking to on-line shopping in a big way, many of his customers telling him that it was much easier than battling with the crowds. Colin marvelled at the huge quantities of food that was being purchased, most of which he believed wouldn’t be eaten until well into the New Year.

If Colin were to use just one word to describe himself, then he’d have to say that he was a cuddler. He loved being able to wrap his arms around someone and comfort them. This wasn’t necessarily a s****l thing. Simon hadn’t really enjoyed it when Colin wanted to cuddle. Simon was always too uptight, competitive, and go-getting to want to just sit down of an evening and snuggle in front of something romantic on the TV. Simon would submit to being hugged after Colin had made love to him, though even then, Simon never seemed to reciprocate all that freely.

Colin had to admit to being a little dominant; he was most reluctant to take the passive role in lovemaking, though this he thought was partially due to a lack of trust that he felt towards his previous s*x partners. Colin was a take-charge, look-after-and-protect kind of a guy; the smaller, weaker or more vulnerable his partner, the more Colin felt the need to take over. It always amazed him that he and Simon had stayed together for as long as they had. They were fundamentally incompatible.

Colin was beginning to realise that Martin was starting to dominate his thoughts. Martin seemed to press all of his buttons, though he didn’t know if Martin was gay. Although Colin’s gaydar was fairly reliable, he didn’t get the usual eye contact with Martin that he was used to, but given Martin’s blindness this was to be expected. He’d had no difficulty in detecting the bulge pressing into him when he’d hugged Martin that once; this gave him a clue, but was Martin just lonely for companionship? Did he want someone in his life? Martin could be too set in his ways to want to share with anyone.

Was Colin after starting a relationship with Martin? He didn’t know. Colin tried to analyse his feelings, were they just born of a need to protect someone whom he perceived as being weaker than himself? Or did he like Martin in a s****l way? If the bulge in his uniform trousers whenever he thought of Martin lying under him or sucking on his d**k was any indication, then yes, he fancied Martin something rotten. But then Colin’s guilt would set in; he knew that he would destroy the rather fragile Martin if he came on too strong.

* * * *

Friday, Martin’s grocery delivery day, soon rolled around again. Martin wondered if Colin would want to stop for something to eat, dare he suggest it? He hated to think that he was monopolising Colin’s time. The man was busy, even more so at this time of year, Martin surmised that Colin would have far better things to do than spend time with him. However, this didn’t prevent him from preparing a larger than usual beef casserole.

I can always freeze the extra, he told himself.

He’d just dropped in a few dumplings when Colin came through the door.

“Bloody hell, the nation’s gone shopping mad,” Colin announced as he greeted Toby.

“Well, people are stocking up in case the Millennium bug hits.”

“Yeah, load of hype if you ask me. I’ve been round and round the town so many times today, it wouldn’t have surprised me if I hadn’t met myself coming in the opposite direction. Still, mustn’t grumble, it keeps me in work.”

The two then got down to the business of unpacking. Martin didn’t really need much; the extra food he’d bought the previous Saturday had seen to that, but he wanted to see Colin again, so he’d decided to order some things for his store cupboard.

“Have to go, mate. I’ve still got half a van full of stuff to drop off before I knock off tonight,” Colin said once he’d squared away all of Martin’s purchases.

Martin concealed his disappointment at Colin not being able to stay, comforting himself with the knowledge that he’d have the pleasure of his company for the majority of Christmas Day.

“Okay, I hope to have the dinner ready for about 1 o’clock a week on Saturday.”

“Great. You sure it’s still okay for me to come over?”

“Of course it is,” Martin said. You’d be more welcome than you’ll ever know.

“Better get off then, mate.” Colin patted Toby on the head and left the kitchen.

Martin had secretly hoped for another hug, the previous one had provided him with fuel for a week’s worth of night time fantasies of being lovingly restrained by the powerful, but gentle, stud. Although Martin couldn’t picture Colin in his mind, he imagined him to be fair-haired, blue eyed and devastatingly handsome. With a queue of women after him, no doubt, Martin told himself.

It was typical of Martin to fall in love with an idea, a dream, an unattainable goal. He knew that because Colin was out of his reach, it was safe to love him. Colin couldn’t hurt or reject him, because he would never know of Martin’s love for him. Martin could and frequently did construct ever more elaborate scenarios wherein Colin the caped crusader would rescue the weak and vulnerable Martin from a series of increasingly ridiculous mishaps.

Oh for f**k’s sake, Martin, snap out of it! he told himself, slapping the side of his head. He returned to his meal preparations.

* * * *

It was late on Christmas Eve and Martin couldn’t sleep. He had checklists running round in his head. He’d spent the whole day in pre-preparation. It took him much longer to prepare food than a sighted person. He realised he should have bought frozen vegetables, but he’d decided that fresh was better. The first thing on his agenda for the next morning would be to prepare the Brussels sprouts. Martin hated sprouts, little green packets of wind, but they were a traditional part of Christmas dinner, and Martin thought Colin would want the meal to be as traditional as possible.

Martin had taken advice from the retailer at the off-license on which bottle of wine would best go with roast turkey. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker, and Colin wouldn’t be able to have much as he was driving. Though should he offer to put Colin up in the spare room overnight, so he could enjoy a drink? These and other thoughts kept running round in Martin’s head, eventually quietening sufficiently to allow him to doze off.

* * * *

The alarm woke Martin at seven A.M. He needed to make an early start. After taking Toby for a quick walk round the block, Martin began his kitchen duties whilst listening to carols on the radio. Normally Martin would have put in a CD of non-Christmas music, but he really wanted to get into the spirit of the season, something he hadn’t felt like doing since his childhood. Martin tried hard not to build up too many expectations for the day; it would be impossible for the event to live up to them all as it was. But Martin was happy, happier than he’d been in years.

The Brussels sprouts had been rather tricky to prepare, Martin had ended up cutting himself a couple of times. Fortunately he’d had less trouble with the carrots and turnips.

The turkey was cooking nicely, Martin had just basted it, and the ten o’clock news had just come on when his phone rang.

Who on earth could that be? Martin rarely received any phone calls. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

Oh, God, I hope it isn’t Colin ringing up to cancel. I don’t think I could cope with that. He wiped his hands, and walked into the front room, reaching the phone on its fifth ring. “Hello?” Martin said nervously.

“Hi Martin, it’s me, Colin.”

Oh no. Martin could feel his legs beginning to give way.

“You there, Martin?”

“Erm, yeah.” Martin began to steel himself for the bad news.

“Listen, I’m sorry…” The blood pumping in his ears prevented Martin from hearing much more.

Why, why, it’s not fair. It’s just too cruel.

“Martin? You sure you’re all right?” Colin’s concerned voice came over the phone. “Look I’m on my way now, love.”

“Huh?” Martin was confused.

“Martin, I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

* * * *

Colin got into his car and sped across town. Something was wrong, Martin sounded so distant somehow. He’d only rung up to confirm the time of the meal. He wanted to leave the house; Max and his girlfriend, were getting on his nerves with their endless billing and cooing. Colin needed to escape.

“Martin!” Colin shot through the back door, almost falling over Toby. “Out of the way, boy!” The first thing Colin saw on entering the kitchen was numerous red fingerprints all over the work surfaces. “God, no, he’s bleeding.”