Another NaNoWriMo Excerpt

Here's another glimpse at the book I'm trying to write during NaNoWriMo. I hope you'll enjoy it but please keep in mind this is a very raw first draft. In fact, I wrote these words earlier today

“Are you ready?”

I frowned at myself in the mirror. I looked ridiculous and couldn’t believe I’d be going out dressed like this. Aidan had been messing with my hair until it fell any which way, with one or two tuffs sticking up to accentuate the disorganisation. I scowled at the white shirt, grey jumper and yellow and burgundy tie.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Aidan appeared behind me in the mirror and grinned. Trust him to look great. Dressed in identical outfits we should have looked the same. Yet here I was, a prime example of the ultimate dork, while Aidan, as always, looked hot as hell. Truth be told, the costume accentuated his cuteness. The added dark rimmed glasses and the scar he’d painted on his forehead should have made him look silly. In reality, it made me want to jump him here and now and forget about the evening ahead of us.

“I look like a bloody eejit. Why did I allow you to talk me into this?”

“You love me.” His grin grew wicked and I couldn’t help returning it.

“Yeah, I do. Sometimes I wonder if I don’t love you too much.”

“Come on. Stop moaning.” Aidan punched my lightly. “It will be fun. What’s not to like about a night out dressed up as Harry and Ron?”

I kept my mouth shut. We’d had this discussion before, several times. He knew I didn’t want to go out tonight. I’d been getting better about socialising since we met, but I still didn’t like crowds too much and while I could deal with gay clubs, or even gay friendly venues, going to a regular club continued to scare me. I didn’t want to attract attention to myself and although I had to admit dressing up as Ron Weasley on Halloween wouldn’t make me stand out too much, I would have been happier if I could have gone in my own clothes. Or, better yet, if we could just have stayed at home on what had to be one of the busiest party nights in town.

“Stop sulking. We’ll have fun. My colleagues are good people. We’re just going for dinner and a few drinks, nothing major.”

I nodded and gave myself a mental kick up the backside. Aidan had been more than accommodating when it came to all my social awkwardness. Spoiling the one night he really wanted to go out made me the sort of selfish bastard I didn’t want to be.

“Yeah, I know. Let’s go. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I turned around and gave him a quick kiss before moving to the stairs. “I’ll try to be not too much of a pain tonight.”

At the restaurant, Larry, Aidan’s manager, smiled at us when we reached the table. 

“Here we have Gryffindorians. Nice outfits lads; although it does remind me of this fan fiction my wife is forever talking about. Not sure I want that image in my head right now.”

My cheeks flamed up to match the colour of my hair as some of Aidan’s colleagues burst out laughing while others clearly had no idea what Larry meant. I did. I’d read some of those stories online and one quick glance at Aidan told me he had as well and that he’d had those stories very much in mind when he suggested these costumes.

“Cockus Engorgio.” Aidan smirked at me as he whispered the words while we sat down and damn if his words didn’t have exactly that effect on me. I said a silent prayer of thanks for the tablecloth covering my crotch as I tried to ignore his still sniggering colleagues.

A NaNoWriMo Excerpt

As you may have noticed I failed to do a flash fiction post last Monday. I don’t have one ready for today either. The annual writing madness called NaNoWriMo kicked off on November first and I haven’t had the time to work on anything other than the three projects I’d lined up for it.

I’m very glad to say I’ve so far managed to stay ahead of schedule. Which is just as well. While November is usually a very quiet month in the day job, this year it is anything but. I’m working close to full-time hours every week in November and am trying to fit my writing in anywhere I can. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep up the mad schedule, or how long the husband is willing to put up with hasty dinners and little or no assistance when it comes to keeping the house presentable. The more words I can write before fatigue takes over, the better.

Still, I didn’t want to deprive you all, so this week I’ll share a little (unedited and uncorrected) excerpt from the story I’m working on. Here’s what’s been happening so far.

Nineteen year old Lennart has recently fled his traumatic childhood environment for a new start in Dublin when he meets the slightly older and very confident Aidan. The two men grow close very quickly and when Aidan has to leave the room he’s renting, Lennart offers him a place to stay. The following scene takes place just after they’ve collected Aidan’s possessions from his old house and Lennart has witnessed Aidan’s former housemates calling Aidan names.

***

“Are you okay?” Aidan barely glanced at me and my heart hurt for him. “I should have just told you not to come. There was no need for you to experience that. The bastards. Why was getting rid of me not enough for them?”

“Aidan?” He slowly looked up at me. “Why didn’t  you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t told anyone. What would have been the point? It was where I lived and although I tried finding another room it wasn’t happening.” He sighed. “Also...” he stopped talking and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” I couldn’t conceal the frustration in my voice and wasn’t sure I wanted to. I’d bared my soul to him, shared all my shit and even cried on his lap. And he hadn’t been able to tell me he lived with three bullies?

“Your confidence was growing.” Aidan sounded defensive. “You were so happy to be away from your parents, your hometown and all the bullying you’d endured. I didn’t want to tell you it could be just as bad here.” He paused and thought. “And there was no need. I had no intention of ever bringing you to that place. Even if I’d gotten on with those pricks, my room would have been too small and who wants to hang out with their boyfriend while three strangers are in and out of the same house all the time?”

The angry retort I’d been working on as he made his speech died on my lips when I heard the word boyfriend. “You mean that?”

“Yes, of course I mean that. I would never have exposed you to them if you hadn’t insisted on coming.”

“No, not that.” I was afraid to ask. “That other thing you said. The word you used. Did you mean that?”

Aidan looked confused and I realised it had probably been a slip of the tongue. One of those things people say without thinking and unaware of the impression it might make on others.

“Lennart, I’m sorry but you’ll have to be more specific. What word do you mean? I used quite a few.”

I studied the floor in front of my feet while I wondered whether I had it in me to be brave enough to ask. In the end I didn’t have a choice. Not asking – not knowing – would drive me crazy. “You used the word boyfriend.” I whispered the sentence and wasn’t sure whether or not he’d heard me until I saw his feet approaching mine across the floorboards.

“But you are, aren’t you?” The surprise in Aidan’s voice took my breath away. He’d thought of me as his boyfriend while I’d been barely able to hope I might keep him as a friend. “I mean, I thought you were.” My silence clearly confused Aidan. “If that’s not what we are...I mean, if that’s not what you want...”

“I do. I am. I mean I want to be.” Relief and anger battled inside me. I glared up at him, balled my hand into a fist and punched him in the shoulder. “If I’m your boyfriend you’ve no excuse. You. Should. Have. Told. Me. Every word was accentuated by another punch.

Aidan threw back his head and laughed. Tension left his body and the man I’d met, the Aidan I’d gotten used and attached to, returned. “You’re right, probably.” He closed the last few inches between us. “I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark. I just didn’t want to burden you with stuff you didn’t need to know about.” He lifted my hand from his shoulder and pushed it against the wall above my head. “Forgive me?”

Before I could answer his mouth was on mine and I had to trust the hunger in my response to his kiss, told him how very forgiven he was.

***