IslandAffair

couple of days seemed to suggest otherwise.
    On the morning after Rob’s seizure when John went out to
collect the mail he found a biblical flyer with passages underlined in red. It
was done with such vehemence that there were small holes in the paper where the
pen had ripped through. John had still been staring at it when the phone rang.
He raced upstairs to grab it before Rob woke up and was greeted with a
suspicious female voice.
    “Who the hell are you?”
    “John MacAllister, I’m a friend of Robin’s.”
    There was a short pause. “I know who you are, John. This is
Joanne, Rob’s sister. I’ve had eight phone calls this morning asking when my
brother ‘turned gay’ and ‘just letting me know’ he had a fit in the middle of
Main Street while walking hand in hand with another man and asking if I thought
that was God’s way of punishing him.” John heard her disgust loud and clear.
“How is he?”
    He scowled. The people in this town sure worked fast. “Still
asleep.”
    “Good. He’ll be sore when he gets up. Make sure he takes his
meds and some painkillers after he eats.”
    “Yes ma’am.” John rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.
    “Don’t ma’am me, it makes me feel like my mother.”
    “Sorry, uh…”
    She sighed. “Just call me Joanne.”
    “Right, okay.”
    “Don’t hurt my brother or I’ll be coming over there to cut
off your balls with a rusty knife.” John felt said balls try to crawl up into
his body at the steely determination in her voice. He didn’t doubt her. “Get
him to call me when he wakes up.” She hung up before he could reply and he was
left feeling as if he had been run over by Hurricane Joanne.
    Robin woke up as sore and tired as his sister had warned but
seemed otherwise well. He called Joanne to update her and reassure her that he
was okay as soon as he had eaten and came off the phone cheerful and smiling.
Not wanting to upset him, John didn’t mention the flyer in the mailbox that
morning.
    When they went to the park for some fresh air later that day
there were more stares and a few muttered insults but his lover seemed
undeterred. He kept John’s hand in his own, though he became visibly angrier.
John hated the skin-crawling sensation of eyes on him wherever they went. There
was nothing to be done about it, they couldn’t hide in the apartment. It would
maybe have been wiser to take things a bit more slowly but Rob seemed to have
adopted the Band-Aid theory. The quicker you did it, the less it would hurt.
Nothing John said made any impact, except to make him the target of
Rob’s anger.
    The following day the phone calls started.
    They ranged from concerned friends to vitriol interspersed
with a few hang-ups. Whenever Robin heard a familiar voice rebuking him he
seemed to shrink further into himself until finally John pulled the phone from
the wall. When he went out to collect the mail and found the word FAG
spray-painted on the door in lurid pink it was the final straw. He stomped back
upstairs and called the police. They arrived and shook their heads, tutted over
the vandalism and suggested they get caller ID on the phone but there wasn’t
much else they could, or would, do. It was their parting statement that had Rob
putting a restraining hand on John’s arm though.
    “Maybe you gentlemen should try to be a little less
provoking?”
    Provoking? Holding his partner’s hand in public was provoking ?
Hell, they hadn’t even kissed . What would the good townsfolk do then? Burn
rainbow flags on the hood of his car? John seethed and paced until Robin pulled
him into his arms, halting his angry motion. They kissed languidly, hands
caressing until his body relaxed and his cock was pressing hard against the
zipper of his jeans. He moaned against Rob’s mouth and rubbed against his
matching hardness.
    “Ah, what you do to me, leannan .”
    “Let it be, John. I knew this wasn’t going to be fun.”
    John reached for the button of Rob’s jeans. “We’ll make our
own fun. Fuck ‘em.”
    Robin laughed. “No. Fuck me.”
    John sank to his knees as his lover’s erection sprang free
from the confines of his jeans. He kissed his way down from Rob’s hip to nuzzle
at the base of the hard, straining flesh. Rob’s fingers threaded into his hair
and John took his cock into his mouth, the bitter taste of pre-cum painting his
tongue. The hands in his hair tightened as he worked his way down the shaft
until it nudged the back of his throat and Rob