Monday, 7 January 2013

Well Hello, Stranger...

Yesterday I was feeling a bit run-down and fuzzy-headed (yup, other people may say 'hungover'), so I had an early night with my book in preparation for return-proper to work today.

Just after nine, there was a rap-rap-rap on the door. I was shit scared for a second, cos surely only Steve would be calling at this time of night? But then I remembered that when he sees my bedroom light is on, his preferred method of letting me know he's there is to throw stones at my window. so I got my dressing gown on and opened the front door.

'Hello you,' said a hooded figure, much taller than Steve. For a second I didn't recognise him, but then by his voice I realised it was Circus Boy. Son was at the top of the stairs by now, obviously thinking it was Steve too, and determined that I wouldn't let him in.

'It's ok, it's Circus Boy,' I said.

'Oh, hello Circus Boy, we haven't seen you for AGES have we?'

Heehee, that's right, rub it in.

So off Son went to bed again, and in came Circus Boy, apologising for disturbing me, but not actually leaving! So we chatted, and I waited for him to tell me what he was doing here, but in typical Circus Boy style, he was saying nothing. He, as usual, has been doing all sorts - DJ-ing, juggling fire, going to various massive parties in the windswept wilds of the countryside, rehearsing for a play in March, saving for a van still, and buying a new sound system.

'And what have you been doing?' he said.

'Hmmm. Not a lot. I nearly cleaned out the fish tank today...'

Sometimes my sentences would be best left unfinished.

We had a cup of tea and he smoked out my back door, while putting the world to rights and telling me about a CID Christmas Party he'd been to (!) We talked about my Dad, about his Dad, about his work and my work. At about half ten I said I was going to bed because I had to be up early the next day and I was feeling rough and a bit hungover.

'Oh, I thought you were looking really well, your skin looks so much better, and your eyes are all sparkly, you look so much better than when I last saw you...'

Well yes, I'd just had a suspected stroke when you last saw me!

Thing is, when he re-appears, we just go straight back to getting on, like we always have. He makes me laugh, the things he says, even though he isn't usually trying to. For instance, when he says, 'I just can't stay away from you.' Well, you bloody managed well enough for the last three months! My face aches whenever I've been with him for an hour or so. Things like him pondering at length whether it wouldn't be better to risk going to prison 'for a couple of years' rather than saving up money - and he doesn't understand why I find that funny - though he ends up laughing along with me. And do supermarkets really have compressors out back to squash up out-of-date food so people can't eat it and sue them? I really do think he is officially crackers. Yet I also feel a bit nervous with him - he is so confident for someone his age, he really knows what he wants, and has every expectation of getting it. Also, when he thinks I'm not looking, he outright STARES at me, which is very disconcerting. Not like sexily, but like as if I am a specimen or something, like he's trying to work me out.

So we went back in the living room and I finally asked him, 'Circus Boy, have you had a row with your Mum or something?'

'No! Not really....' but his guilty sort of laugh gave it away that he had.

'Good, cos you have to go home now, I'm knackered.'

'Can't I stay here?'

'No, you bloody can't! I really do need some sleep, and I don't think it's really on to suddenly turn up out of nowhere and expect to stay over. But it was really nice to see you, and maybe if you don't leave it so long next time...'

We had a hug and a kiss at the door, and off he went. I'd just got into bed, and he was back again.

'Forgot me baccy.' He'd left it in the kitchen. 'So you're sure you don't want me to stay?' I just raised Roger Moore eyebrow.

Another hug and another kiss, and this time he was gone properly.

He'd already been talking about us going out in the next couple of weeks to see some bands, but I think that could just be Circus Boy guff to fish me in again. So we'll see. It was a shame to miss out on his really quite marvellous cock, but there's also the issue of the somewhat less-than-marvellous anal sores which I haven't investigated yet. So we'll see what happens.

This morning I was telling Son, 'so, we'll see if we see Circus Boy again in the next week or so, or if he's going to disappear for another three months.'

'I strongly suspect the latter,' he said.

I strongly suspect he's right. But I'm optimistic enough to hold out a teensy bit of hope otherwise. Who knows, I might even invite him to my birthday drinks. But then again, I couldn't cope if he copped off with someone else on my birthday. I am still capable of going slightly psycho over him. Another reason not to shag him really. Not one I'm about to mention to him though.

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