r_scribbles | Cabin Pressure Fic: And Never Been Kissed

Part 1

2 – Graham Brown’s Dad

The second time was with his flatmate’s dad, and that was awful too. Again, it wasn’t what it sounded like. It had been two years since the incident at his Mum’s birthday party, and since then he and his dad had finally reached the end of their respective tethers with one another, and he’d moved out. He shared a dingy little flat in the even-ropier-than-usual area of Reading with three Post-Grad students. He probably got on with Graham the best. Graham was having troubles with his MA that Martin could certainly relate to. Graham was affected by his parents’ ongoing divorce in a way that was comfortingly akin to the way Martin’s Mum’s Chemo was affecting him. He and Graham would sit up late together sometimes, and split a cheap bottle of whiskey with shop’s brand cola, and chat. Usually it gravitated towards Graham rattling on and on about Post Colonial Literature and Martin having a parallel monologue about aviation, but that was OK.

One weekend, Graham’s dad came to visit. The girls were both away for the weekend, freeing up extra bedrooms and adding to the Lad’s Weekend feel. Martin didn’t have work on Saturday evening and was able to spare a few hours out of studying, so Graham’s dad took them all out to dinner, and then on to the local for a few drinks afterwards. Graham’s dad kept the conversation away from the divorce as much as possible, but from a few comments here and there, Martin realised that the divorce had recently been finalised, and that Graham’s dad was really cut up about it.

They went back to the flat, and continued to drink until Graham was too drunk and sleepy to carry on. He had excused his self and gone to bed while Martin and Graham’s dad were locked in a long conversation about gliders. By 2am, they were both lying on the floor, passing the whiskey bottle from one to the other.

‘Sorry if I’ve brought you down tonight,’ sighed Graham’s dad.

‘Nonsense,’ replied Martin. ‘Must be hard. Getting divorced after all those years.’

‘Well. Should have thought of that, shouldn’t I. I’ve only got myself to blame.’

‘Oh. I. Er. I mean. I’m sure that’s not true.’ As far as Martin was aware, it was Graham’s mum who wanted the divorce, not his dad. ‘Graham said you’d tried marriage counselling and everything…’

‘Too little, too late.’ Graham’s dad took another swig. ‘See… OK, this isn’t for Graham’s ears, but I had this… this stupid little fling, a couple of years back.’

‘Oh. And your wife found out about her.’

Graham’s dad smiled, strangely. ‘About him.’

‘Oh!’ martin checked himself, flushing. ‘Not… not that there’s anything wrong with that sort of thing… I mean…’

‘There’s something very much wrong with sleeping with somebody else when you’re married,’ Graham’s dad replied. ‘That was what ended my marriage, not the sudden revelation that I… batted for both teams.’

‘Well, of course. I mean. I’m sure you’re right…’

‘But, please don’t tell Graham about this. It’s bad enough for him to have to go through me and his mum splitting up. He’s not ready for the other stuff yet.’

‘Yes, of course! Not that, as I say, there’s anything wrong with… because, well. I mean, I’m… I mean, there’s…’ Martin frowned, the alcohol jumbling his thoughts. ‘I mean. You’re not the only both-team-batter in this room, you know.’

‘Really?’

‘In theory. Yes. Haven’t actually had the chance to go up to bat for The Chaps Team yet, but… well, sometimes I really want to. Please don’t tell Graham. He doesn’t know. Not that I want to… with Graham, I mean. Not that he’s not good looking. I mean, he is, I mean, you know that. I mean! Not that I’m suggesting you find him attractive! Just because you’re… er. Oh, God, I’m so sorry…’

‘It’s all right. I know what you mean. You and Graham are just mates. No one’s going to think you fancy everybody in the world just because you like girls and boys… well. Some might. But if they do, they’re idiots.’

‘Graham’s just… he’s not my type. He’s only 23!’

‘I thought you were only 20.’

‘Yes, but.’ Martin fiddled with a button of his shirt. Suddenly, he felt terribly hot. ‘I, er. I don’t often look at people my own age like that.’

‘Oh,’ breathed Graham’s dad. ‘Want to know another little secret, Martin?’

‘Mm?’

Graham’s dad shuffled a little closer. ‘Since the divorce, neither do I.’

The rest of their conversation was a bit of a blur to Martin. He remembered more cricket analogies, but since he didn’t really understand cricket, they rather slipped through his mind like runny cornflour. He fiddled with his buttons a lot. And then Graham’s dad fiddled with his buttons, and he fiddled with Graham’s dad’s.

It was Graham’s dad who decided to hurriedly move into Carrie’s bedroom, dragging Martin, unprotesting, with him.

He was pushed against the wall and given his first ever blow job. Or, at least, half a blow job, since Graham’s dad stopped once Martin was fully hard. Martin still told himself that it counted. Then Graham’s dad had guided him down and got out his cock, murmuring ‘please, please…’ and Martin hadn’t been entirely sure what to do with it. He didn’t like the taste, that was for certain, but it was only fair – he’d just had it done for him. He sucked as much of it into his mouth as he could, but it made him gag, which, coupled with how ill the booze was starting to make him feel, really wasn’t the best idea. He pulled away, apologising.

‘It’s OK,’ murmured Graham’s dad. ‘It’s OK. Oh, God, I really want to fuck. Want to fuck?’

Martin nodded, letting Graham’s dad guide him towards the bed. It was only as he was bent over the mattress that he realised he’d got the wrong end of the stick. Still. He didn’t want to complain, and in any case, he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of putting his cock into somebody’s bottom any more than the idea of anybody doing the same thing to him. Maybe he should have thought this through. He heard his internal voice of reason telling him that this was a terrible idea – that he should stop - but the alcohol made said voice seem very far away, and as easily ignored as characters on telly ignored the comments of their viewers at home.

At least Graham’s dad had condoms, unlike Mrs Smithson, and a quick dig around Carrie’s dressing table found a suitable lube. Which didn’t mean to say that, when it happened, it didn’t hurt like… well. Like buggery. Hence the expression, Martin supposed. Martin gritted his teeth and gripped the bedclothes in tight fists. As much as it hurt, there was a spot that Graham’s dad found up there that sent little jolts through Martin’s body, which he quite liked. Graham’s dad reached his arm around Martin and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. He came before the older man did – not a great orgasm, but better than it had been with Mrs Smithson. Only, then he was left, spent and sore and still getting pounded by his friend’s dad, and as the seconds following the sad little orgasm ticked by, the clearer and closer that voice screaming at him that this was wrong, wrong, completely wrong became. He screwed up his eyes, glad that the other man couldn’t see his face, and wished that he’d just come and get it over with.

It took around another minute for Graham’s dad to tense against him and grit out a tell-tale grunt. Then he sagged, and slowly, painfully pulled out.

‘You…’ Graham’s dad watched him warily as he pulled his jeans back up. ‘You’re not bleeding, or anything?’

‘Don’t think so. Little bit sore. But it’ll be OK. That was my first time. Doing that, you know?’

Graham’s dad nodded, looking down at his lap. When he looked up at Martin again, there were tears in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Martin. I’m so sorry.’

‘No. It’s OK.’

‘I’ve got a problem.’ Graham’s dad’s voice hitched. ‘I shouldn’t have… I need help.’

‘I’m sorry,’ was all Martin could say.

He went back to his own room. It shared a wall with Carrie’s bedroom, and for a good half hour afterwards, he could hear Graham’s dad crying softly to his self.

He never saw Graham’s dad again. He became tetchy and distant with Graham, in spite of his best attempts not to let what had happened mar their friendship. After 8 months, Graham moved in with his new girlfriend, and that was the last Martin heard of him.

Part 3