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He'd put a lot of thought into this, not necessarily the logistics but the fact that it was happening at all. They had sex a lot, but it felt different because it was happening on Guy's birthday. They walked home hand in hand and, almost at the threshold, he paused, pressing Guy firmly back against a tree and bent his head to kiss him.

"Happy birthday," he murmured.
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Pressing his fingers into Guy's hair, he held on to the kiss, pressing their bodies together in the privacy of the small room behind the curtain.

"Not a word, I swear."
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The club wasn't exactly Irwin's scene, the thumping music and the mass of sweaty bodies, but he was happy to be there with Guy, specially when he broke the kiss, suddenly very aware of his cock, his hips pressed forward against Guy's. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, coat abandoned at the cloak-room. He pushed his fingers into Guy's hair and pulls; an idea was forming.

"We should go back to the hotel," he said. They'd rented a room earlier, if only for the novelty. He leaned in and kissed Guy again, hungrily. "We should go right now."
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It was late but Irwin was still awake, sprawled on the bed in his room, idly reading his novel about Thomas Cromwell, thinking about sleep. There was a cigarette between his lips, as yet unlit. He found himself absorbed.

Maybe he'd get up and shower in a minute...
He had no other plans, after all.
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Life moved on apace. He was getting to know the island, getting to know the school. Forming habits. Building routines. Like turning up at Guy's office door at a certain time of night, looking for a smoke.

"Not busy, are you?" he said, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He ignored the slight heat in his belly, the sense memory of still fading bruises. He tilted his head. "I'd hate to be interrupting."
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Since he was going to be gainfully employed, he thought that he'd better come and look around. Dakin had, of course, offered to escort him but he'd thought he'd be better feeling it out on his own. It wasn't quite the same as the Grammer school, but it had a definite charm to it, the classrooms open to the tropical breeze.

Yes, he thought. It would do nicely.
And it definitely wasn't Yorkshire.

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Tom Irwin

April 2013

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