Page 131 of Pansies

“Um. Where we going?”

The only answer he got was a toothy grin. And then he was being bundled up against a wheelie bin—which smelled rank—and Fen was sliding to his knees onto a piece of cardboard spread over the dirty cobbles.

Alfie, who’d always thought himself pretty worldly, was simultaneously shocked, and shocked that he was shocked. “Oh my God, you can’t.”

“Watch me.”

Fen’s hands slid up his thighs. Yanked his belt undone and jeans open. Alfie had a split second to be self-conscious abouthis knob hanging out before Fen swallowed him down like a python. And…oh…fucking…God…this was some porno-quality cocksucking. He had to brace one hand against the wall to stop himself from keeling over. Jam his knuckles in his mouth to stop from groaning. This was sex without subtlety—just a hot mouth wrapped round his cock, the dark, convulsing tunnel of Fen’s throat. It looked gloriously obscene too. Fen’s eyes were half-closed, a concentration-crease standing out between them, his cheeks hollow and his lips stretched tight around Alfie’s cock. And the sounds…maybe it was just because he was nervous—though nervous in a way that, if anything, made what was happening even more exciting—but he was pretty sure they should’ve been able hear those wet, sucking, undeniably fleshly noises all the way back in South Shields.

This was…this was bad gay. This was what your parents worried about. What theDaily Mailwrote about. And it was so, so good. Dirty and desperate and sexy as hell. And Alfie was…yeah, Alfie was over the edge before he’d even realised therewasan edge: a shock of raw pleasure like staring straight at the sun. For a moment after, he thought he might never breathe again.

“Can’t believe you did that,” he gasped, trying to clear the sparkles from his eyes. “What if someone had come?”

Fen grinned up at him and licked his lips. “I’m pretty sure someone did.”

“Wow. You actually went there.” Alfie tugged at his zip. “This was proper reckless, pet.”

“Fun, though. And a lot less reckless than you taking on three blokes.”

Catching Fen’s hand, Alfie pulled him to his feet. “I thought you wanted me to stop doing stuff like that.”

“I do.”

“But if this is how you respond…”

“It was a one-off.”

“Oh.” Alfie tried not to sound too disappointed.

“Not the blowjob, silly. I’ll do that as much as you like—”

“As much as I like? Cos I liked it a lot.”

Fen laughed. “Well, I’m happy to commit to an intensive schedule of oral sex in exchange for not having to hear about you on the news.” He tucked himself against Alfie’s side. “Come on, Sandor Clegane, let’s go home.”

And, this time, when Fen said it…it sounded like the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

The van was ready on Friday. Leyla said the quick service was due to a combination of residual guilt, hope of future custom, and also happening to have the part in stock. Once he’d collected it and driven back to Pansies, Alfie spent the afternoon making calls and running financial models, the like of which probably no flower shop in the history of the world had ever needed before. Probably didn’t need now. But he believed in being thorough.

When he was done, he went to wash buckets with Fen and talked him through it. He would have done a PowerPoint, but he was pretty sure Fen would have laughed in his face.

“So, you see,” he finished, “if you started off just doing Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, serving local businesses and events only, even accounting for time and additional expenses, it’s totally worth it.”

Fen ran a fretful hand through his hair. “I’d have to hire someone though…”

“Couple of hours’ work, three days a week?” Alfie shrugged. “Cash in hand, mate. Under the counter.”

“Oh my God. You’re an accountant. I’m pretty sure you’re not meant to encourage people to break the law.”

“Actually, I’m an investment banker. We think of the law more as guidelines, really.”

“Should I put a sign in the window, then? Wanted: morally ambiguous driver for illegal part-time work?”

Alfie huffed exasperatedly. “Naw, just ask someone. Everyone needs a few quid now and again.”

“This is South Shields. I don’t know anyone, and I probably hate them, anyway.”

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