THE CHAV PRINCE
They woke together again in the cellar to the distant peel of church bells. Justin kissed Nathan and asked, ‘How’re you feeling?’
‘Bit of a headache, Justy, but I’ll be okay.’
Justin snuggled into his lover’s warm body, enjoying the sensation of safety and peace. Nathan kissed his head repeatedly. He fondled Nathan’s morning erection for a few minutes, then dived down to close his warm mouth on it. He took his time, until eventually Nathan shifted, arched and fountained in his mouth. Justin brought his tousled head back up, licking his lips. ‘Mmm. Thass breakfast sorted. Now I just need some exercise.’
Laughing, Nathan opened the sleeping bag. He pulled back his legs and Justin got to work on his crack and hole. Nathan was soon sighing, rubbing his chest and sucking his lips. Justin did the necessary, climbed up on him, engaged with his mouth and pushed steadily into him as Nathan moaned out his passion. ‘Keep it going as long as you can, Justy. Make it a long, long fuck.’
A considerable sweaty time later, Justin gave a muffled yell and pumped his load inside his lover, falling on to him gasping.
Nathan held him tight. ‘God, that was the best, my Animal. Ooh, you put a love bite on my shoulder.’
Justin looked up at him seriously. ‘Do one in the same place on me, lover.’
Nathan complied, licking all over Justin’s upper torso, savouring the salt of his sweat. They cuddled and drifted off again. When they woke for the second time at ten, Nathan put Justin on his knees and took him vigorously from behind. After a little breakfast, Justin returned the favour the same way. It was early in the afternoon before they were exhausted from their sex play, rutting continuously like the strong and hormonal boys they were.
Nathan finally said, ‘We stink, Justy, and the bag’s soaked with sweat. Our personal hygiene’s going downhill fast. What’s more, I need a crap.’
‘I know … I felt a turd in you when we screwed, just didn’t want to say.’
Nathan stared, faintly disgusted, into Justin’s laughing face.
They stood in the big sink together and soaped one another thoroughly, gasping at the cold water which was all they had. They took turns kneeling down so they could shampoo each other’s hair. When they finished, Nathan handed Justin some more of his clothes and they got dressed.
They looked out of their refuge into the quiet garden. No one could be seen or heard in the garage flat. ‘We’ll just have to risk it,’ decided Nathan. They swarmed through the window and shot across the lawn into the bushes, pausing to take a breather before slipping over the wall.
They found a public loo in Muswell Hill Gardens where they could relieve the anxiety in their bowels. Feeling much better, they wandered off to eat a late lunch of panini, cake and coffee in a High Street café. When he saw that smoking was not allowed, Justin simply shrugged. He was becoming settled into his new style, and if anyone had been told that he was an A Level student at a local college, the information would have been accepted without a raised eyebrow.
‘Time to plan next week, Justy. I got a good idea for tomorrow and Tuesday. Since I gave up college last week to be with you, I’m taking the next two days out of work. I can do college in the morning and meet up with you afterwards. My parents are at work till late, so we can sneak home and get you properly clean and fed …’
‘… and shag in a real bed.’
‘That too. We can also wash your clothes and get you some more stuff. I love your new look. How do you like it?’
‘Iss okay, but me mum wouldn’t recognise me. I felt everybody was lookin’ at me to begin wiv, but we match and thass good. It makes us less obvious. Iss a disguise, cos I’m on the run, inn I.’
They agreed to meet up on Muswell Hill Broadway at one-thirty.
* * *
That night, Justin was on his own for the first time in the cellar under Matt White’s house. With no warm body and light breathing beside him, he was lonelier than he had been for a long time. The wind got up in the night, causing the old house to creak and crack. Time and again as he was dozing off he would snap awake, wondering if he heard footsteps on the floors above him. But there was nothing. The house was empty still.
The next morning he stayed curled up in bed, disconsolate. When he finally got up he found the camping stove uncooperative and was forced to go without coffee. Since Nathan was not there, he had a smoke instead. He washed, dressed in yesterday’s kit, and headed out, taking with him a shoulder bag full of dirty clothes.
Sneaking cautiously around the garden, he reached the garage office. It was empty, and he was pretty sure the upstairs flat was too. Good news, he thought, more or less certain that Dave and his big mate were gone away.
He was waiting by the bus shelters when Nathan appeared, beaming happily. Justin’s heart leaped. He had never in his life so wanted to see and be near another human being. Nathan set him tingling with physical excitement, and – strangely – he knew he did the same to Nathan. The idea that he was loved by such a lovable boy stirred strange sensations in him. He felt he was not worth it. Wishing he could kiss the boy in the street, instead he had to be satisfied by Nathan’s arm casually thrown over his shoulder in a mate-like way. They queued for the Winchmore Hill bus.
‘So I never asked you, Nate. What does your dad do?’
‘He’s an academic. Works at Imperial studying superconductors.’
‘Glad I asked, and how about your mum?’
‘A civil-rights lawyer in the Upper Temple.’
‘Wow … no wonder they were a bit off about you leaving school.’
‘Yeah, I had to use my pocket money to retain mum to defend me against dad. It was hairy for a while. They expected me to try for university and become a professional like them …’
‘… and instead you became a gardener’s boy and fell in love with a petty criminal. I can see where they might think you did the wrong thing.’
‘Seems the right thing to me … oops, there’s a copper coming this way. Look innocent.’
The policeman strolled by without a glance. If he had stopped it would only have been because Nathan went rigid and red and kept looking guiltily at him. When he had passed, Justin tugged Nathan’s sleeve and murmured, ‘I think we’ll ’ave to do some work on this looking innocent thing, Nate.’
‘I don’t have your brass neck, Justy. You were awesome that night in Camden. Wish I could be like you.’
Justin looked very serious. ‘Please doan’ ever say that again, Nate. Doan’ ever wanna be like me.’
The bus came and they were dropped at Winchmore Hill Green. Nathan led the way up a leafy street lined with townhouses, which soon gave way to even bigger houses set well back off the verge. Eventually they came to the biggest one of all, with lawns and a whole grove of trees towards the road. It was stuccoed and painted white, and if Justin had known anything about architecture he would have recognised that it was a lot older than the surrounding suburban houses.
‘Christ, iss a palace. You live ’ere?’
‘You might comment on the garden, Justy.’
‘Iss beautiful. Do you do it?’
‘Yup.’ Nathan looked pleased and proud. ‘All those beds I put in with my mum when I was ten, together with that shrubbery along the side. They’ve matured nicely. Around the back you’ll see my award-winning pergola. It’s a pity it’s too late in the year to admire my azalia hedge.’
Nathan laughed and opened the big front door. Inside was a large, pillared hall with a Regency staircase.
‘How long ’ave you lived here?’
‘All my life, and it’s been in the family since … oh I don’t know, Queen Victoria at least. My dad’s dad left it to him, but my uncle got the rest of the estate.’
Justin’s ears pricked up. ‘… rest of the estate?’
‘Come over here, Justy, and meet granddad.’ They walked through tall doors into a gorgeous drawing room, where a hawk-faced old man in some sort of blue uniform and silk robes stared disapprovingly down on Justin from an oil portrait over the marble chimneypiece. ‘That’s granddad at the time he was lord lieutenant of Middlesex, when they gave him the order of St Michael and St George. Justy … meet Sir Lewis Philip Augustus Underwood, seventh baronet.’
‘You’re a lord?’
‘No, it’s my Uncle Phil who has the title. He lives on the country estate in Suffolk.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It does if you’re rich.’
‘We’re well off, not because of family money, but because of dad. He’s made a fortune setting up his own research companies. He’s really clever … not like me. I’m more like Uncle Phil, who’s a country gentleman through and through. He wants me to go out to Suffolk and run his market garden and garden centre when I finish at Hornsey College. Anyway, enough about me. Let’s get to the laundry.’
Nathan took a wondering Justin back out through the hall to some narrow passages and into a corridor of utility rooms looking out on to an extensive back garden. A tennis court and swimming pool could be seen to one side. ‘Okay, strip off, Justy.’
Justin complied, though in the circumstances he felt strangely exposed. Nathan bundled his clothes into a washing machine, along with the other dirty items in the backpack, added softener and powder, and set the programme going.
Nathan slapped his forehead. ‘Oh dear, here you are quite naked. If I’d thought about it, I could have had some fresh clothes ready for you. As it is, you’ll just have to follow me bare-arsed through the entire house. I hope you don’t feel embarrassed.’
A laughing Justin hurled himself on Nathan and wrestled him to the floor. Holding him down, Justin began pulling off his clothes, meeting only minimal resistance, until he had stripped his lover as bare as he was. They padded hand in hand back through the house, pausing in the hall to kiss. Then Nathan scampered up the stairs and into his bedroom on the first floor, Justin chasing after him, amused at the way his cock and balls swung between his legs as he ran. It was so, so sexy.
‘Wow.’ Justin stopped on the threshold to admire the large room with its double bed and sofa under the windows. At one end was a desk and computer, at the other a door into a proper bathroom. There were potted plants and flower arrangements everywhere.
Nathan pulled Justin on to the bed. ‘Look, Justy. I was inspired by your attitude. I went into the pharmacy near work and got a whole tube of lube and a big box of johnnies. I didn’t flinch, and the lady who served me even gave me a big smile.’
‘My hero!’ exclaimed Justin.
They put the equipment to good use, Justin inviting his lover to ride him hard, and taking a lavish sucking off as his reward. Afterwards they showered together.
Nathan came out of the bathroom to open his fitted wardrobe and begin throwing clothes on to the bed. ‘Let’s try you with these knitted tops, babe. They’ll look great on you. I grew so fast last winter that half this lot don’t fit me. Some of it I hardly wore before I grew out of it. Then there’re these jeans and even … wow, try on these shoes. They must be your size.’
After scrambling into the items Nathan had selected, Justin stared at himself in the big mirror. ‘Do I really look like this?’ he asked, half to himself.
Nathan, still nude, held him round the waist. ‘You’re every bit as beautiful as I told you, even with clothes on. And yes, you do look like this. Clothes make the man – or, in your case, boy – and boy, do they make you handsome. You may not be a hunk, Justy, but you’ve got a fantastic arse and a good figure. That chav crap you wore only made you look anonymous. Dressed like this, you’re somebody.
‘Here are three extra outfits for you, which’ll do till Thursday when Andersons next drops me off at Mr White’s house. I can bring you more stuff then.’ He filled the backpack again. ‘Now let me get dressed and we can go chill downstairs.’
They went to the kitchen, where Nathan had a stack of essential supplies ready on the table. One of the items was a new mobile. ‘It’s fully topped up and we can reach each other in emergencies, can’t we?’
‘Or just talk dirty.’
‘That too,’ Nathan agreed.
They watched TV lying together on a sofa, talking, laughing and kissing a lot. At tea time, Nathan made them a hefty meal, which left Justin feeling euphoric and absolutely stuffed. They ate it in the big Provençal-style kitchen. ‘With fancy digs like these, how can you wanna come and live wiv me in a grotty bedsit?’ Justin wondered.
‘Cos it’s the only way I can be happy in life, Justy. Near you.’
‘You’re giving up an awful lot.’
‘Perhaps so, but I think I’m gaining a lot more. ’Sides, one day soon I have to leave home in any case and go out into the world. I can’t be a kid forever. This way, I’ll go hand in hand with someone I love, and who loves me. But we gotta get you sorted first, in that bedsit of our dreams. I think we should try the agencies and newsagents’ windows in Finchley first. I made a list from the yellow pages last night when I was missing you.’
At that moment a car pulled into the drive. Nathan shot up. ‘Christ, of all the days for her to be early, she picks today. Damn! There’s no escape. Upstairs with me, quick.’
They raced up to the bedroom, where Nathan hastily finished packing Justin’s bag for him. ‘Okay, lover, be as cool as you always are. You’re my mate Justin from college, doing … I dunno.’
‘GNVQ in criminal behaviour?’
Nathan gave a boyish, gurgling chuckle. ‘Perfect!’
They came nonchalantly down the stairs as Mrs Underwood entered the hall, throwing her car keys into a basin on a side table by the door. Justin looked her over. She was very like her son in colouring, but elegant and willowy in build. She had a nice face, kind and humorous.
She gave an abstracted smile as she saw them. ‘Hello dear, I don’t know your friend.’
‘Hi mum. This is Justin from the college.’
‘Hello Justin. Are you doing the horticulture course too?’
‘Pleasure to meetchya, Mrs Underwood. No, I’m studying criminology.’
‘Aren’t you staying?’
‘Sorry, I gotta get home to Highgate. Bye, Nate. Thanks for the … snack and stuff.’
‘Cheers, Justy. See you tomorrow after lunch, same place and time?’
The door closed on him and Justin trudged off to find his bus and get back to his hideout.
Waiting for night to fall, Justin loitered for a while around Muswell Hill, where he used the time to buy a couple of things in a supermarket. He was crossing the street heading down to Archway Road when someone called to him from a bunch of kids lounging round a pub. ‘Fuckin’ ’ell. Animal!’
He scanned the group. A couple of the girls looked somewhat familiar. He was pretty sure he’d had his tongue and possibly more down the throat of an anorexic blond with cornrows. But it was a boy who had called to him. He briefly thought about ignoring them, then realised he’d be foolish to underestimate the remorseless curiosity of the street kid.
He strolled over casually. ‘Lo Tommy. Wha’ the fuck you doin’ ’ere?’
The boy looked cunning, something he was quite good at. ‘Aw well, me uncle Jace is in ’ere wiv some mates. They’re gonna take me down to the dogs, in’ they. Whatchoo done to yourself?’
‘The cloves and hair, mate. Not your usual style, is it?’
Justin surveyed Tommy, decked out in white shell suit, ballcap perched back on his head and bling necklace. His white socks were visible below the bottoms of his trakkies. No, thought Justin, it isn’t my style anymore, that’s for fuckin’ sure. ‘Foster home. They gave me this crap, so what could I do, eh? Gotta go anyway. I got a curfew. See ya.’
‘Yeah … see ya, Animal.’
Justin moved on, and it was properly dark when he finally reached his refuge in Highgate. He sat up on the wall for a moment to get a good view of the garage flat. Seeing it lifeless still, he took his time crossing the garden to the cellar window. He slipped in and locked it behind him. He lit the lamp, got the camp stove burning – feeling oddly pleased with himself for being successful this time – and boiled up the little kettle. Slowly sipping an instant coffee, he wondered what it had been like to grow up in a house with a mum and dad who were intelligent and loving, to have money and ambitions and good holidays. He had seen pictures in the bedroom of a younger Nathan in scuba and ski gear. You could not but be envious, he concluded. What did such a kid see in a loser like Justin?
He undressed and snuggled into the sleeping bag, sniffing around to find the bit that smelled most of Nathan, drinking it in. It made him feel less lonely.
He awoke in the dark of night to hear noises above him in the house. He froze, and had to force himself to relax. He was in the unused cellar. No one would come down there. He looked at his illuminated new mobile; 2:27, it said. That seemed to him an odd time for the owner to return home. And then he thought, Oh shit, burglars! But the alarm system had been up and running when he had got back, so far as he could remember. Why didn’t it go off? Steps paced the floor above him, steady and confident. Surely it was Matthew White.
Suddenly his heart quailed. Oh double shit, he shrieked inside his head, old houses have ghosts! Maybe the mansion was haunted. He was suddenly in a state of abject terror. When he'd been a little boy, he had watched far too much late-night telly and films not intended for susceptible children. As a result, in a crisis his imagination generally leaped instantly to the bizarre and horrible. He lay in a cold sweat, actually burying his head under the pillow, a fact he never mentioned to anyone when he told the story later.
He cowered there until at length his courage reasserted itself. Someone … or something, as his imagination insisted … was upstairs, but it wasn’t coming down. He sat up and snapped on the camping lantern, switching it to its dimmest setting. Finding his boxers and pulling them on, he padded cautiously through the maze of pillars to the stairs. One question was answered. The red sensor light was out, so either the security system was down, or someone had turned it off.
Peering up he saw that there was no light visible beneath the cellar door. So it was intruders. As this sank in, the door handle was tried. He shot back into the dark and hid behind a pile of rubbish, heart pounding, remembering at the last instant to turn off his lantern.
Flashlights swept the bay at the bottom of the stairs. There were at least two people in the cellar with him. Then a male voice spoke. ‘Will down here be alright?’
‘Should be okay. Reception won’t be a problem with these wooden floors. It’s securing and hiding the thing that’s the tricky business. Is that a wooden post? It’ll do. Got the toolbox?’
The steps went over to the other side of the bay. There was a click and a noise of someone turning over a box full of metallic objects. ‘Hold the torch steady,’ came the same voice. A subdued sound of drilling became audible, succeeded by several minutes of discussion, sawing and hammering.
‘Looks pretty good. Wipe some dirt on it and no one will ever guess we’ve been here. Perfect. You go upstairs and test it out. I’ll tell Laurie … he’ll let Johnny know.’
A brief and uninformative mobile call followed. Then Justin heard a metal box being packed up, a snap of locks and footsteps ascending the stairs. The door closed and he was alone again. He waited a while, but everything remained quiet. He was about to go over and check out what had been done on the other side of the bay when he noticed the sensor light was on once more. He retreated to his bedding to think out what he had just witnessed and what he should do about it.