This is the third chapter of “Halloween at the Fernbeck Inn”.
To read the first chapter, click here.
To read the previous chapter, click here.
Next morning, Tyler woke up early again. He wasn’t as optimistic as yesterday about finding Horace at breakfast, but he was surely more eager. Nonetheless, he went down to the dining room half an hour after it had opened.
“He isn’t a morning bird, anyway.”
And indeed, Horace wasn’t there.
Just like yesterday, Tyler remained in the dining room for as long as he could. Then he passed by the lounge. Horace wasn’t there. That wasn’t really a surprise, but still, Tyler felt a small disappointment.
Continuing his routine of the previous day, Tyler went to search for Rory in the backyard. He walked, though, more slowly than yesterday. With every step his eagerness grew, but so did his disappointment. At last, he reached the fernery, but Horace wasn’t there.
“Shit!”
He sat at “their” bench.
“I wish I was a smoker…”
But he wasn’t, and he felt he had no excuse to stay there doing nothing. Wouldn’t Horace, were he to see him sitting there and doing nothing, think – or realise – he is desperate to see him? And Horace, obviously, wasn’t as desperate. Then, it wouldn’t look good. So, after a couple of minutes, he left that bench and took the path back to the inn.
The lone bench in the orchard was empty. If… if Horace came late looking for him, wouldn’t he pass through there? Probably. So, he sat there, too.
Nothing.
It’s a less “I’m desperate to see you” place to be found, but, still, he couldn’t stay there for too long. He mustered his courage and headed to the inn. He found the proprietor.
“Excuse me, Mrs Henderson. Is Horace still in his room?” He tried to sound as casual as possible.
“Horace? …I don’t think we have a guest with this name.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know his surname. A guy about my age and height, brown hair, brown eyes…” “Hot as hell!” He managed to stop himself before saying the last bit – just barely.
“Maybe… white shirt, black trousers, old-fashioned?”
“Were they? I wouldn’t know. His chest wasn’t, but” “Yes, that’s him!”
“Oh… That sounds like Horace Wetherby. How should I say it? I’m sorry, lad, but that boy is not with us any longer?”
“He… I see.”
Even if Tyler wanted to hide his shock, he couldn’t – and he didn’t care to.
“So he left. Why didn’t he tell me? Didn’t he say we’d meet again today? Fucking liar!”
Tyler ran to his room before he could make a fool of himself. He threw himself on the bed – face down.
“Why?”
He punched the pillow.
“Why?”
And he didn’t have the strength to punch it again.
He wanted to get angry at Horace. He wanted to hate him. But the image of Rory’s smile didn’t let him.
“Fucking bastard! Was everything a lie? A game? Those smiles, those grins… your caresses, your kisses… were all of these fake?”
And eventually sleep dried his tears and silenced these thoughts.
When he woke up, the sun had set. He took a shower.
“What’s the point?”
But the water running on his body felt nice, so he stayed there for quite a while. Then, he tried to read his book. It didn’t feel half as interesting as it did two days ago.
And dinnertime came.
He dressed warmly – he knew himself better than to think he didn’t want to go and reminisce about their moments together, where they met. And, listlessly, he went down to the dining room. He remembered to take the bottle opener, though.
He didn’t eat much. He didn’t have much of an appetite, after all. Then, he bought four bottles of beer – he intended to buy two, but somehow he asked for four – and he headed to the fernery. Walking slowly. Looking down more than where he was going.
“You are late… I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
Life returned to Tyler like the strike of lightning, but he didn’t dare take another step.
“You are here?!”
“Of course, I am, Ty. Didn’t you ask that we meet tonight?”
“But Mrs Henderson said you left?”
“Mrs Henderson?”
“The proprietor.”
“Ah! Well… she probably meant for the day.” Horace stood up and came to Tyler. Gently, very gently, he held Tyler’s face with his hands. “I’m going to be rude again, sweet Ty.” And he kissed Tyler. Softly, but surely more warmly and more passionately than yesterday. “Am I forgiven?”
“I don’t know… you weren’t rude enough.” But Tyler’s face was now beaming.
Horace grinned and kissed him again.
“Shall we better go sit?”
“No, of course not! Keep kissing me, you fucking hot jerk!”
But Tyler didn’t want to press Horace – and maybe, just maybe, they could be a somewhat… unexpected spectacle for a passerby, were they to stay there, kissing and blocking the path. So, he followed Horace to the bench.
The two boys sat, not against the back of the bench, but facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes, smiling and giggling like fools, without saying anything for a while.
“I’m glad you came, Ty. I really missed you.” His hand gently caressed Tyler’s knee.
“I missed you, too! And I thought you just disappeared without even a goodbye.”
Yeah, he shouldn’t complain – even Tyler knew that – but he couldn’t not say that.
“You are the one who is going to leave me behind, Ty… and forget me.”
“Never!”
And for the first time, Tyler initiated the kiss, but Horace gladly received it. Maybe, just maybe, Rory’s lips opened a little. Did he want more? But Tyler didn’t dare push his luck. After all, although they were kissing, although his mind and soul experienced this kiss intensely, it still felt like their lips were barely touching. Surely more than yesterday’s pecks, but still, Horace was probably reluctant.
When the kiss ended, Tyler took two beers from the bag and opened them, giving one to Horace.
Horace brushed Tyler’s hand.
“You came prepared today.”
“Although seeing you laughing at me was… not unpleasant, I thought I’d better not be a clown tonight.”
“I never laughed at you, Ty.”
And the two boys chatted and had fun, and they flirted. Well, Horace did most of the flirting, because Tyler was scared he might make a mistake and Horace would disappear again. But Horace kept caressing and kissing Tyler every so often. Always a light touch. Always a light kiss. But always so warmly.
And Tyler loved every moment.
It was a little after midnight, later than in the previous nights, when Horace asked the question Tyler hoped he wouldn’t ask.
“Would you be willing to forgive me if I act mean again?”
“Can’t you please stay?”
“I’m sorry. Believe me, I want to. But I can’t.” Tyler’s eyes turned down to the bench. “But if you can forgive me, if you want to see me again tomorrow, I’ll be with you for as long as you want.”
“Really?”
“Yes, sweet Ty. I’ll be waiting for you here all day long. You can decide if and when you want to come and meet me. I promise.”
“Of course I’ll come! And you don’t need to wait. We can arrange–”
“No! That’s my punishment. A punishment too small for making my sweet Ty sad today.”
Did he just say, “my”?!
“I…” “love you!” “…will come. For sure, I’ll come!”
“Thank you, my sweet Ty! I’ll be waiting for you.”
And Horace kissed Tyler one more time. But this time, the kiss wasn’t light. And when the kiss ended, while the two boys were still looking into each other’s eyes, and their smiles grew to grins, Horace gently caressed Tyler’s crotch.
“Mmm… Someone is going to have fun tonight.” And he stood up.
“Am I the only one?” Tyler shyly asked.
Horace grinned. “I don’t know… What do you think?” But he didn’t let Tyler answer. Instead, he gave him one last kiss, wished him goodnight, and he left.
“Bloody bastard, I love you!” Tyler screamed in his mind.
And the boy put the bottles in the bag – after hurriedly finishing Horace’s beer – and went to his room, to “have fun”, to use Horace’s words, fantasising what he and his Rory were going to do tomorrow.
To read the next chapter, click here. (The link will be activated when the next chapter is published.
