Just married?

“In front of God and everybody this time?” Stephen asked incredulously. He looked at his friend Kevin in shock, pizza slice paused halfway to his mouth.

“Well, it’s a civil ceremony at the Register Office,” said Kevin. “So it’s not actually in front of God. But they have invited just about everybody and his dog along. Mike’s got an invitation, that’s how I know.” He took a huge mouthful of pizza, sucking up the loose strands of cheese. “Are you going to eat that or just stare at it?” he mumbled through the food.

Stephen absently took a bite but then put down the rest of the slice. He suddenly had no appetite. He’d had a very bitter break-up with his ex-lover, who had refused to sully his reputation by even being seen with Stephen in public, let alone coming out openly. So the news that That Man was having a huge gay wedding was a bit of a shock to say the least.

*****

By the time he got home, Stephen’s mood had deteriorated even further.

“You’re back early,” said Paul in surprise, coming out of the living room to meet him when he heard the keys in the lock.

“I got bored,” said Stephen, removing his jacket and throwing it over the newel post of the staircase. In actual fact he had stormed off early after Kevin had told him to stop going on about That Man, but he wasn’t going to admit that. After all, it was all Kevin’s fault for being so rude – he hadn’t been going on at all, it was only natural to want to talk about such shocking news, Kevin shouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Jacket, please,” Paul’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Stephen sighed heavily, grabbing the jacket impatiently and hanging it up in the cloakroom. He muttered under his breath about over-fussy people before catching Paul’s eye and subsiding abruptly.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said Paul, discreetly ignoring what he hadn’t properly heard. He came closer, pulling his partner into an embrace; he could feel the tension in Stephen’s body and wondered what had gone wrong that night – some sort of argument? Stephen and Kevin had been best friends for years but both had excitable personalities and every so often a major row would erupt over some minor incident. He kissed Stephen in welcome, a light kiss because he could tell that the younger man was not willing to be coaxed out of his bad mood just yet. Stephen accepted the kiss but didn’t really respond and Paul let him go, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes and smiling sympathetically at his determinedly grumpy lover.

“Come on, I’ll make you a drink and you can tell me all about it.”

Stephen trailed after Paul and slouched propped up against the kitchen doorway, a far cry from his usual behaviour after a night out alone – normally he would be talking nine to the dozen, eager to tell Paul all about it. This time he watched Paul make the tea in silence, following his partner into the living room and throwing himself down on the sofa with another heavy sigh.

“So what’s up?” asked Paul, setting the mugs down on the coffee table and sitting down next to Stephen. “Didn’t you have a good time?”

“It was okay,” Stephen shrugged his shoulders.

“You normally enjoy going out with Kevin,” said Paul, trying to draw out what was wrong.

“Yeah, but that’s when he’s not rude to me!” snapped Stephen.

“Hey, no need to shout at me,” said Paul calmly. “Come over here, love, come on.” Paul gently tugged on his partner’s hand until Stephen settled sideways on Paul’s lap with the sofa taking most of his weight. Despite everything, Stephen began to relax as he leaned into Paul’s chest. Paul’s arm was around him and his hand a warm weight on Stephen’s leg, anchoring him down to home and safety.

“Did you have an argument?” Paul asked when they were comfortable.

“He told me to shut up, he was really rude about it,” said Stephen.

“Did you say anything to upset him?”

“Nothing! He just said I was going on and on.” Stephen said indignantly.

Somehow he didn’t want to tell Paul the news about That Man just yet. Paul would be all calm and reasonable about it, and he didn’t want to be reasonable. He was angry and hurt and he wanted to brood about it a bit more before thinking about it rationally.

“So what did you do then?” asked Paul.

“Nothing, I just came home. I’m not going to be talked to like that by someone who’s supposed to be my friend,” muttered Stephen.

“I’m proud of you for not retaliating,” said Paul, patting his lover gently on the leg. He left the subject at that – he wasn’t going to interfere in Stephen’s friendships unless for some reason they became a major issue. On past experience, Stephen and Kevin would be fast friends again in a few days.

“Tea’s going cold,” Paul commented mildly a few moments later, changing the subject.

“I don’t care, I’m comfortable as I am,” Stephen replied, moving an impossible inch closer and relaxing even more now he knew Paul wasn’t going to take things further. He made a determined effort to push aside his troubled thoughts for the moment. He could work out what to say or do tomorrow. For now, he was home early, it was a Friday night, and Paul was here, his body warm and tempting against him. He had better things to do with his time.

*****

The days passed and somehow Stephen never got round to telling Paul that That Man was going to get married. Most of the time he never thought about it, but every so often he would be reminded, and a tight knot of anger and hurt – why wasn’t I good enough for him to come out for? – would fill his stomach. Stephen and Kevin soon became friends again; as if to make up for his previously less than sympathetic attitude, Kevin invented the wildest and most unrealistic ideas for revenge whenever the subject of That Man’s behaviour came up, from standing up and objecting at the relevant part of the ceremony, to letting down the tyres on the happy couple’s car. Stephen joined in with the joking; they both knew he would never actually do such a thing. For one thing, he didn’t want That Man to think he was even remotely interested in or bothered by his actions.

But the nearer the day of the wedding came, the more tempted Stephen was to go – just to get a look at That Man and his new partner. “Who’s obviously so much better than I am, if he’s willing to be with him openly,” Stephen thought bitterly.

He knew the details of the ceremony as Kevin’s colleague Mike had been invited. What harm would it do just to go along to have a look? Then he’d be able to put it all out of his mind and get on with his own life. He knew Paul suspected something wasn’t right; he’d dropped several hints about talking to him, and he’d been even kinder than usual. More pampering in his own, unique Paul way, that included things like making sure he ate a proper meal and got enough sleep. Stephen felt guilty for making Paul worry about him, but by now the knot of painful bitterness had grown so large that he just had to see this through. He wrestled with his conscience for several days and finally his conscience lost, so on the morning of the wedding he set off, supposedly to meet Kevin but in reality to go to the Register Office.

There was a free public car park that served both the Register Office and the small attached garden, and Stephen parked a few spaces away from the other cars already there. He’d arrived just after the ceremony was due to start; he’d hoped to stay in his car and just get a glimpse of the newly married couple while remaining out of sight, but the scenically-planted bushes and trees, while no doubt leading to better wedding photos, completely blocked his view. In order to see the door of the Register Office he had to move closer.

Stephen reluctantly left the safety of the car and made his way over to the tall fir tree on the left of the building, lingering behind its tall trunk. It would offer enough protection to prevent him from being spotted while still affording him a good enough view. He looked at his watch impatiently; fifteen minutes after the ceremony was due to start, they must surely come out soon as it was only a civil service after all, it wasn’t as if there would be any lengthy hymns or prayers.

It was another few minutes before the doors opened and a happy party spilled down the steps. There were at least thirty or forty people, all milling around two smartly dressed men in suits who were holding hands and beaming at each other. Stephen drew in his breath sharply when he caught his first glimpse of That Man in almost three years. He looked different; more ordinary and shorter than the giant monster that he had morphed into in Stephen’s memory. The man who had to be his new husband also looked ordinary, with a slightly rounded face and body and balding hair. They looked happy together. “What did he have that I didn’t?” thought Stephen. He stood transfixed, watching the laughter, confetti-throwing and photo-taking until the group moved off into the gardens, presumably to get some more scenic shots. Frowning, he gathered himself together and began to move slowly back to his car; it wouldn’t do for him to be found here.

Partway there he suddenly stopped dead at the sight of the dark blue estate car in front of him. That Man had bought a car just like that right before they had split up. A glance at the personalised registration plate, a conceit Stephen himself thought was naff, told him that this was in fact the same car.

Kevin’s suggestions flooded back to him and the opportunity seemed too good to waste. He didn’t have anything to let down the tyres with, though, but maybe… Stephen glanced around and spotted what he needed; a nearby muddy puddle and a large stick. “Just like mud pies”, he thought happily as he stirred some extra earth into the puddle to make a sticky brown mixture. Then careful not to get any mud on his clothes (he didn’t want Paul to wonder what he’d been up to after all) he began to draw lettering on the back window of the car with the stick. The letters were thin and streaky, but it would do, he thought in approval as he finished writing ‘Just’ and began to make a start on the words ‘a prat’ instead of the more traditional ‘married’.

Stephen was so engrossed in his writing that he never heard Paul come up behind him until the stern Voice of Doom, the tone that always told Stephen he’d gone just a bit too far, sounded behind him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” asked Paul incredulously.

Stephen dropped his stick in shock and spun round, amazed to see his partner there. His eyes fell at the look of disapproval and disappointment in Paul’s gaze and abruptly he felt a sense of shame at himself. What on earth had he been doing? He was twenty-six, for goodness’ sake, and he’d been drawing on car windows like a little child. “Erm…” was all he could get out in answer to the question.

“Clear it up at once, please,” said Paul. Then, when Stephen just gazed about him helplessly, he continued. “You can use the bottle of water and the cloth in my car. Go on, hurry it up, we wouldn’t want the wedding party to come back here and be upset by this on what’s supposed to be their special day.”

Stephen did hurry, there was no way he wanted That Man to catch him there, and soon the window of the car was clean.

“Right,” said Paul. “I want you to follow me in the car straight home. We’ll talk about this there.” He got into his car and started the engine, and Stephen quickly returned to his own and soberly followed his partner out of the car park. All the way home, his thoughts were full of two things – worry about how much trouble he was bound to be in, and wondering how on earth Paul had known to find him there. If he was paranoid he’d begin to worry that the other man had had him electronically tagged, as he always seemed to turn up at the worst possible moment.

“So explain this one to me, Stephen,” said Paul when they were finally back at home, sinking down into the seat across from Stephen. “Because I cannot understand why I just found you playing in mud puddles and drawing on car windows.”

“Erm,” said Stephen again. He had no explanation; he was filled with a burning shame that the whole thing had gone so far; somehow it had all just escalated.

“That’s not an answer. What were you up to?”

“I – I wanted to get revenge,” was all Stephen could get out.

“Revenge for what?” asked Paul relentlessly.

“That Man.” Stephen bit his lip; this all sounded so stupid now. He was in a solid relationship and had been for the last couple of years; why did he have to get so worked up about an ex? “Kevin said That Man was getting married, and I wanted to see who to. That’s all. I don’t know why I did the stick thing, I’m sorry about that Paul, it was just impulse.”

Paul sighed. “I thought we’d been working on trying to control your impulses, Stephen. I’m disappointed in your behaviour today, though I’m glad you’ve realised it was wrong. But do you know what hurts me the most?” Stephen glanced up to see a regretful look in Paul’s eyes that struck him to the core. “It’s that you didn’t tell me about this wedding, or talk to me about how upset you were. I thought we’d agreed that you would always come to me first if something upsets you, rather than bottling it all up and working yourself up into such a state. Why didn’t you do that this time?”

“I don’t know!” Stephen almost wailed.

There was a pause. “Do you still love him?” Paul asked quietly.

“No!” said Stephen, shocked. “I hadn’t thought about him in ages till Kevin mentioned the wedding. And then I don’t know what happened.”

“You must have had a reason for wanting to go to the wedding. You deliberately planned this, Stephen Gregson. You lied to me when you said you were going to meet Kevin.” Stephen’s eyes flew up again, and Paul smiled grimly at him. “Yes, I do know about that. Kevin, unfortunately for you, didn’t, and he rang here to speak to you. We had quite an illuminating conversation.”

“So that’s how he knew where to find me,” thought Stephen briefly before returning to frantically wondering how he was going to get out of this one.

“I want to get to the bottom of this. Why were you so upset at your ex getting married if he doesn’t mean anything to you now?”

“Because he didn’t care enough about me to even be seen in public, let alone marry me!” Stephen burst out. “I know civil partnerships weren’t legal then, but he wouldn’t even meet me for dinner. What was so wrong with me that he didn’t want to be seen with me?”

Paul leaned forward and took his hand. “Sweetheart, it had nothing to do with you. The man just wasn’t ready to come out then. I know he hurt you very badly, but that reflects on him and his own insecurity, not on you. It just wasn’t time for him then. But you’ve both moved on now, you both have the right to be happy. Just let this go, Stephen. Don’t tear yourself up about it.”

Stephen didn’t reply and Paul sat back and his voice was firm again. “So I make that a count of one deliberate lie, not talking to me about your problems as we agreed and then deliberately vandalising a car. You are in serious trouble, young man.”

“Please, Paul?” said Stephen faintly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s exactly why we have these rules in place – if you’d come to me as we agreed, you wouldn’t have got yourself into such a state. We could have talked it through. But now you have to face that there are consequences to your actions, even if you didn’t mean to do them. And I think on this occasion you very much meant to, anyway.”

Stephen shook his head faintly, unable to speak. He couldn’t argue that going to see the wedding hadn’t been deliberate. He just wished he’d spoken to Paul about this earlier, then he wouldn’t be in this whole mess.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. A spanking, because this is so serious. You do not vandalise other people’s property, whatever you think of them. Apart from anything else, what if you’d been caught, or if there was CCTV in that car park? You could have been thumped, or be facing a police enquiry now, rather than just me.”

Stephen shuddered. He hadn’t thought of that. As usual the mad impulse had just taken him over and he hadn’t thought of the consequences.

“You’ll also have some lines to help you remember to come and speak to me when you’re worried. I don’t want this situation to happen again, Stephen. For deliberately lying to me about where you were going out, you’ll be grounded for the next two weeks. And thoroughly cleaning both of our cars by hand, inside and out, should show you that mud on a car is not a good thing.”

Stephen groaned at the long list of punishments, but he knew he’d seriously broken the rules and he wouldn’t get anywhere by protesting.

“Okay, then,” said Paul, and his voice softened somewhat as he knew how hard it was for his partner to accept Paul’s authority over him when a serious punishment was in the offing. “Let’s get the first part over with, eh?”

“Paul!” Stephen couldn’t help one final protest.

Paul just looked at him with sympathy but no sign of softening, and Stephen reluctantly got up and moved the couple of steps over to the other man. Paul’s hands came up to his hips to steady him, and not for the first time, Stephen wondered how hands so comforting could soon become so painful.

“Okay?” asked Paul softly, and Stephen swallowed and nodded, even though it wasn’t okay and wouldn’t be until this was all over.

His hands fumbled at the buttons of his jeans, and Paul helped him undo them and push them and his briefs down. The air felt cool on his naked behind and he shivered for a moment, partly from the sudden chill and partly from nerves. Then Paul was drawing him down into position and it was too late to think anymore as the first smack fell hard and heavy, a sign of how seriously Paul looked on this behaviour.

Paul’s left arm held Stephen in place as his right hand spanked, rapidly turning the whole area of Stephen’s bottom pink and then a deeper colour. All Stephen could do was hold on for dear life; his eyes were shut as he suffered through one of the most severe spankings he’d ever had. He couldn’t help his reflexive jerks or sharp breaths of pain each time Paul’s hand fell, and before very long he was futilely wriggling to try and escape the punishment.

Stephen’s whole backside was red, hot and painful by the time Paul finally stopped. Stephen lay limply for a moment, unable to believe it was actually over, before he scrambled off Paul’s lap, clumsily pulling up his briefs but kicking his jeans off.

“It’s okay, love, you’re okay,” murmured Paul, running his hands through Stephen’s disordered hair. He pulled Stephen onto his lap, the right way up this time, allowing him to rest most of his weight on his left hip and thigh rather than on his sore behind.

They sat that way for quite a long time, the only sounds Paul’s soft words of comfort and Stephen’s hitched breaths as he tried to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen said finally. “I love being with you and I don’t feel anything for That Man, really. It all just got into a bigger and bigger mess.”

“Shh,” said Paul soothingly. “We’ve dealt with that, don’t worry about it. Now we just have to work on reminding you that I’m here to listen when you have a problem. We’ll get through it, sweetheart, it will be fine.”

And Paul’s words were so sincere, so certain, that Stephen relaxed back into his arms, believing utterly that if Paul said things were going to be fine, they would be.