Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 16

Now, I’ve read the fiction, and I know how it goes. After a three-asterisk ellipsis, I wake up sore in odd places, I spot his mammoth embonpoint, and wake him in a frenzy of lust and….

Ain’t gonna happen here, folks, and it certainly didn’t happen then.

I woke up disoriented in the wrong room, and found this lumpen thing sprawled on his chest, legs starfished out so that I was almost off the bed. His face turned towards me, he was gently drooling open-mouthed into MY pillow. As I watched him sleep he let out a small but distinct fart. So much for promises.

I slipped out and did my teeth again, wincing at the ache in the sides of my jaw and the wound in my tongue. I made a pint mug of tea with a bag and took my music chair to the bedroom. Wrapped in Mr. Fluffy I just sat and watched him sleep. I really could not remember being happier, no, not even that time with the number 9 I flattened. The night horrors were almost forgotten as I just sat and watched and smiled. The only real drawback was the smell of second hand curry he had distributed under the duvet. I had to open the window, but at least he didn’t snore.

A sudden rush of tears came to my eyes as I realised how easily I could get used to this. For the first time in my life, someone else wanted me, the real me. He had seen me in as bad a state as I could imagine, and not only stayed but did the laundry….I better empty the machine before it got all musty.

I was bent down before the machine when I felt a caress on my bum, and when I looked up the cheeky sod was drinking my tea.

“How are you feeling now, love?”

Well, I’d called him ‘cariad’ so honours were even.

“I think I know why your jaw hurts. Did you know you grind your teeth when you are asleep?”

Bruxism. I’d heard of it, largely in association with things like post-traumatic stress disorder. That certainly fitted, and explained the sore maxillaries.

“When do you have to be in work again?” I asked, in hope and hint.

“Eight tomorrow morning”

“Would you like to go up town for the day? We could have pancakes”

“What, London? Where are you thinking of?”

“Please don’t tell me I’m a nerd….but I was hoping to see the dinosaurs…..

“Until I am fully out I still have to be careful around here, but I want, I need people to see my man. I don’t care who they are, but I want them to be jealous because you are off the market”

Did I just come out with all that? Seems so. And he’s not run away yet.

Why do people take the Express, when for a much lower price they can get an all-day Travelcard? We had considered taking the bikes, but the restrictions at peak times made it far easier to go by train and tube. We got on at Horley and rode up to Victoria on a reasonably quick train. Geoff was in a rather spiffy polo-shirt and chinos rig, while I had gone for Jan’s leggings under a mid-thigh sundress I had bought in a rash moment and never had the nerve to wear. A small rucksack each carried my A-Z map book and a few odds and sods like a camera. We had a loose plan: up past Buck House to the Wellington Arch and a stroll through Hyde Park to the Albert Memorial and then down to the Natural History Museum. Tube across to Covent Garden for the buskers and a coffee, then up to Holborn for My Old Dutch the pancake house.

I was also looking to do some shopping, but had failed to mention that to Geoff. Years of only being Steph at home, or on furtive rides, had allowed me to cope with a limited wardrobe, but once I was out I would need far, far more. I resolved to speak to Jan; Kelly’s little game with make up seemed to have been taken OK, but I was never going to let myself be advised on that by a fourteen year old tentspace thief. Jan herself seemed to wear very little, but what she did with it was effective. Kelly was all panda eyes and pale face.

The sun was warm as we strolled through the park, and Geoff insisted on buying me an ice cream. When I say “me”, half of it seemed to go into his mouth as he snaffled bits when I was distracted.

“Look, a woodpecker…” lick

“Look, a cycle rickshaw” lick

“Look, Elvis riding a yeti” attempted lick. Instead, he caught the cone with his nose and a blob of the vanilla stuck to the tip. It was my turn to lick it off, and he turned a funny shade of pink. He groaned

“Steph, you have no idea what you do to me when you do stuff like that”

“Oh, from experience I make you hog the bed and fart…” he smacked my bum. Only gently, but what gave him the idea he has the right to do that? He can do it any time he likes as far as I am concerned, of course, but I am certainly not going to tell him so.

My happiness meter touched a new high.

Is it normal to find such pleasure in the company of another person? Remember, I am a novice at all this, and my “education” from certain TG sites seemed to involve a lot of messiness, whereas this was so, so simple. I did not want this man to move from my side. I knew that was impossible, but….I wanted a homing pigeon, to fly free but always, always to come home.

“Not waterproof” Keep thinking that.

The dinosaurs were as they always are, laid out on two levels with lots of things to play with for small hands, or big hands with memories. The queue to the animated scene was as horrendous as ever, though, and as we snaked past the pack of hissing raptors and their moaning prey I remembered reading of a proposal to add motion sensors to the robotic puppets so that they would react to anyone leaning over the rail. The idea was dropped; I wonder if that was in reaction to the thought of the poor cleaners having to clean up pools of six-year-olds’ wee…..

We finished out little return to childhood and I dragged Geoff off to Kensington High Street, where I knew there were several “outdoors activity” shops.

Put your mind away, I am talking about hiking, camping and so on. Specifically, I was after a rucksack, but some tops, fleece and so on were on my list. Since starting to wear Jan’s choice in bra, I was a little more forward than previously, and found the chest strap on my 40 litre day pack rather uncomfortable. My massive 80/90 litre sack has a sliding one, so I could adjust it for comfort, but it was not something I could ever wear on the bike for commuting.

There, once again, I was making assumptions about the future. That I would be commuting as myself soon and not as a strapped-up man. Geoff caught me smiling, and showed me a pair of Scarpaâ„¢ rock climbing shoes in a rather nice grey-green.

“Have you ever had go at climbing?”

I got such a fit of the guffaws he looked worried.

“What did I say?”

“Geoff, I lead E2 on grit, or I used to when I still had a motor and could lug all the gear as well as the camping kit. I stopped after I started to see Sally, as it was something that could be fatal with very little thought on my part, and, well, you know what my state of mind has been….” I trailed off and he hugged me.

“I only ever managed Hard Severe, you sod”

“Who’s outdoing whom, here? Who is it that can ride my legs off and is going for the PBP?

“We have to talk about that. I am serious. There are some things I really need to sort out before next year. Let’s pay for this lot–no, I don’t need the shoes, I’ll show you when we get back. And I want coffee.”

Covent Garden is a lovely spot, a cobbled piazza with the old market buildings as a centrepiece and all sorts of odd shops and outdoor seating for food. I always look for the twisty bridge to the Royal Opera House, as it is so odd it makes my eyes hurt. We took our place in the early September sun with our coffees and Geoff said “PBP?”

“Yes. And other things, important things I have to discuss, so just sit and listen, please. If I don’t get this out in one go, I will clam up, and things have to be said. So…..

“Last night was very, very important to me. You saw me at my very worst, and you coped. Not only did you cope, but you stayed. Not only did you stay, but you smiled at me in the morning. I can forgive the farting”

“I didn’t…”

“Shush. The essence of what I have to say is that I have realised that you are someone I want to keep around, whatever happens. Even if you find a real woman and fall for her, I will understand. “

He went to interrupt me again, and I put my fingers to his lips, and he took my hand.

“These are very early days, but you have done so much for me I could never, ever repay you other than to be whatever you need of me. I can see a future now, and I can see it as part of a couple. At this moment, I see it as being with you. I have never, ever imagined I could say that to someone before. It really came home to me when you tried to talk me into going climbing. That lifted another cloud, that I can look at doing things like that without all the self-destructiveness associated with them. I know this is not eloquent, but real folk don’t talk like film scripts. So listen…

“I want to do PBP with you, as support that is. Which is the problem. I have a passport, but there is no way I will be able to make changes before the event. So I will either have to travel as Steve, or see if I can pull in any favours at the port. Do you see what I am saying?”

“Could you cope with me in drag?”