Harbouring a Fugitive

Harbouring a Fugitive

ESCAPED PRISONER ON THE LOOSE! screamed the headlines. As if he was hiding in someone's garden.

The photo did look suitably menacing, though. With his scowling face, shaved head and broad shoulders, Gary wasn't someone you wanted to meet on a dark, lonely night like tonight. I stared into those piercing blue eyes. Was this really the guy I used to hang out with? That I used to fantasise about? That I once...

The article didn't say much beyond the basics.

Gary King, twenty-seven, serving five years for aggravated assault, today escaped during a community service project... police are searching... likely in the local area... lock your doors.

Typical fearmongering.

I set down the iPad and walked over to the window. From my top-floor flat, I could see all the way to the end of the street. It was eerily empty, lit only by streetlights. Nothing moved. Could Gary be out there somewhere in the darkness? Gary, with his arrogance, his fit body, his cheeky grin...

My dick twitched in my boxers. I shook myself, ashamed. Gary was not my type at all, despite what the string of assholes I had dated might suggest.

Not that I ever had a chance with him anyway. We had only hung out together because we grew up in the same street. We couldn't have been more different as teenagers. I was shy, closeted and nerdy. Gary, on the other hand, was outgoing, confident, and bragged about how many girls he'd fucked. Even before his troubles with the law, he was an arrogant bastard. A charming, sexy, arrogant bastard.

With a prickle of embarrassment, I recalled some of the fantasies I'd had about him in my teenage years, how many wanks he'd fuelled. Even now, years later, on rare occasions I let him back into my dreams. But my relationship with him was over. Wherever Gary was tonight, it was nothing to do with me.

A movement below brought me back to reality. I scanned the quiet street but saw nothing. What had drawn my attention?

Wait. Something looked different. After a few moments, I saw it. There, halfway up the street, just beyond the amber pool of the streetlight... was there a figure standing there, in the bushes, shrouded in darkness? Or was it my mind playing tricks? The bushes swayed slightly. The wind?

I stared at the dark shape. It didn't move, but I had the uneasy feeling that it was looking at me.

Bzzzt.

The electronic buzz behind me made me jump. I twisted round and looked down the hall. The entry system beside the front door was blinking green. Someone wanted to come in.

For one heart-stopping moment, I thought it was Gary. But no. I knew perfectly well who it was. Only one person ever buzzed this late at night.

I strode down the hall and pressed one of the buttons next to the green light. "Hello, Dorothy," I said wearily.

"

Oh, um, hello, Oliver

," came the familiar quavering voice. "

I'm afraid I've locked myself out again. I was just putting out the cat, you see, and the door..."

"That's alright," I said. "Though you really shouldn't be out and about, there's a criminal on the loose."

"

I'm eighty-six, dear, what would he want with me?

"

I had to concede the point. "Well, stay indoors. Goodnight." I pressed the second button. There was a metallic buzz and after a few moments, I heard her wheezing up the stairs to the flat below mine. I waited until I heard her door shut and the bolt click into place.

Turning to face back down the dark hall, I felt uneasy again. I knew I was being ridiculous. Even if someone had got into the flat without me noticing, where would they hide? I only had the one main room at the end of the hall, plus a small bathroom and equally small kitchen on either side. Yet as I passed the doorways and glanced in at the darkness, my nerves tingled.

I returned to the main room and crossed to the window again. The street was just as still and silent as before. I squinted at the spot where the figure had been. There was nothing there. Either a neighbour had been out for a smoke, or I had imagined it.

I drew the curtains, turned off the light and stripped to my underwear. Checking that my alarm was set, I climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. I was too on edge to sleep.

Unsurprisingly, my mind drifted back to Gary. To the times we had spent together. And to one time in particular. The night that shaped so many of my fantasies for years to come.

It had been about two years before Gary's first arrest, when we were both twenty-one. It had been my first proper clue that he was heading down a bad path. But that wasn't why it was seared into my memory.

We had been in the pub with a few mates. Just a typical night, a couple of pints and then we all headed home. Everyone had drifted off until only Gary and I were left.

It was late and the streets were empty. We were walking together, talking and laughing. Nothing out of the ordinary. Next moment, Gary's hand closed around my arm and dragged me down a darkened alleyway. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself with my back against the rough brick wall and Gary's hand over my mouth.

"Shh," he hissed in the darkness.

I was too shocked to react. Gary was pressed right up against me. I could feel the heat of his body, the hard muscles, the slow thud of his heart beating against my chest. I was suddenly aware of Gary's height - not just because he towered over me, but because his crotch was pressed against my stomach. I felt a large, soft mass against me. I knew what it must be. I had never seen it, but judging by the size, it was big.

The sounds of footsteps echoed on the street. They were coming our way. "Don't make a sound," Gary whispered, his hot, beery breath washing over me. "Keep your mouth shut like a good boy." At those words, my legs went to jelly and my dick was iron hard in an instant. There was no way Gary couldn't have noticed it pressing into his leg.

He stared at me in the semi-darkness, his eyes glittering. He shifted slightly. His bulge pressed into my stomach. I shuddered. My dick twitched against him. His lip curled into a smile.

The footsteps were right beside us now. We both looked at the mouth of the alley, in time to see two police officers stroll past. They didn't even glance in. Seconds later, they had passed, their steps fading down the street.

We held together for another few moments, until all was quiet. Then Gary stepped back and released my mouth. Our eyes met. A silent agreement flashed between us. I wouldn't ask about the police. He wouldn't say anything about my erection. We headed home in silence.

We never spoke of that night, and shortly afterwards we began to drift apart.

Coming back to the present, I realised my hand had slipped inside my boxers and was gently massaging my hardon. Even now, the memory of Gary turned me on to a ridiculous degree. Well, might as well indulge myself. I wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise.

My hand wrapped around my leaking dick. As I started slowly stroking, I closed my eyes and replayed the alley scene. Except this time I allowed a few embellishments that I'd added over the many years of jerking to it.

I moaned softly as the picture of Gary in the alleyway formed in my head. He was staring at me, a slight smile on his face. He groped his bulge. I whimpered. At that, he grinned and placed a hand on my head. He pushed me to my knees, my legs giving way easily for him.

In the semi-darkness, I could just make out his massive bulge. It seemed to strain outwards towards me. Gary's hand came to his waist and unbuckled his belt with a clink. Then the metallic hiss of his zip. I held my breath. He reached inside and—

Bzzzt

.

My eyes snapped open, my hand frozen mid stroke. I sat up and looked down the darkened hallway. The green light was blinking at me.

Cursing, I withdrew my hand from my boxers and stood up. My dick, which moments ago had been ready to explode, was already deflating. Nothing like a confused elderly lady to kill the mood. I hurried down the hall and pressed the button. "Hello again, Doro—"

"

Hey, Ollie

," said a voice. A deep, masculine voice. A voice that I still recognised years later. "

It's me. Can you let me in?"

The world blurred, my finger frozen on the buzzer. The floor swayed under me. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. "Gary?!" I managed to choke.

"

Just let me in, I'll explain

."

My brain was fuzzy. I didn't know what to do. This was my home, my life. Gary wasn't a part of it. Why was he here?

"

I'm kinda exposed here

," said Gary.

Let him get arrested, then. Hell, call the police. That would be the right thing to do.

"

I know you want me to come in

," said the low, soft voice. "

So just open the door

."

A metallic buzz made me jump. With a jolt of panic, I realised that my finger had involuntarily pressed the second button. He was in.

My chest tightened as I heard the heavy footfall on the steps. What had I done? Was I insane? The footsteps arrived at my door. A voice in my head screamed at me not to open it.

I opened it. And there, in the dim light of the stairwell, with his tall muscular frame and his shaved head and still wearing his orange prison jumpsuit, was Gary King.

After a few moment's silence, I blurted out, "Gary, what the

fuck

?!"

"Shh!" he hissed. He moved towards me, pushing me backwards. He kicked the door shut behind him. I found myself pressed against the wall of the darkened hall with Gary's hand over my mouth. Memories sparked into life. I whimpered into his warm, rough palm.

"I just need a place to crash for the night," said Gary, his voice practically a growl in my ear. "Just for tonight. Is that okay?"

My body was shaking. With fear? Excitement? Both? Gary leaned towards me, and as he did so, his body pressed against my boxers. Only now did I realise that I was painfully, achingly, embarrassingly hard. The glint in Gary's eyes told me that he had noticed.

He smiled. "You'll help me out, won't you, Ollie?" he said. Then his voice dropped to almost a whisper. "You'll help an old friend?"

I whimpered again. My treacherous dick gave an obvious twitch. Gary's ice blue eyes were mesmerising. Something inside me gave way and I nodded.

Gary grinned. He removed his hand and stepped back. "Good," he said. He scratched his neck. "First things first, I'm hungry. Where's the kitchen?" I raised a shaking hand and pointed. He turned and swaggered down the hall.

I stood there, mouth hanging open, boxers tented. As I heard Gary opening cupboards, I shook myself. Everything had rapidly spiralled out of control. I had to do something about this, and not let my fantasies get the better of me. I tried to ignore my erection as I followed him into the kitchen.

*****

Ten minutes later, Gary was wolfing down a bowl of cereal at the small table that occupied most of my kitchen floorspace. I sat opposite with my arms folded. I was still only wearing my boxers but I didn't dare leave him on his own.

Eventually he spoke. "Nice place," he said between mouthfuls. "Just you living here?"

I nodded warily. He glanced at the fridge, which had several photos stuck to it. "Friends and family?"

I didn't answer. Unbothered by my silence, Gary finished the cereal and let out a satisfied sigh. "First thing I've had to eat since this morning."

"Yeah, this morning," I said. "You know, when you escaped from prison?"

Gary smiled. "It's no big deal," he said. "We were out on a community thing. I saw my chance and ran for it."

"The police are looking for you," I said. "Hell, the whole

town

is looking for you. Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I need a place to hide," said Gary. "Just until the heat dies down."

"You're a

wanted criminal

," I said, my blood pressure rising. "The heat won't die down. There'll be a nationwide manhunt for you."

Gary laughed. "It's not like I'm a serial killer. I just robbed a few shops."

He clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back. As his jumpsuit stretched tight over his muscled chest, the zip descended a few inches, revealing a glimpse of skin. Trying to keep my eyes on his face, I said, "You also punched that guy."

"The security guard? He attacked me first."

"I don't care about what you did," I said. "Why are you here?"

"I told you, I need a place to hide."

"I don't mean that," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "I mean why are you

here

, in my flat?"

Gary shrugged. "The police will assume I'm hiding out with one of my mates. They won't think to look here."

I uncrossed my arms. "And then what? Sooner or later they'll find out we used to be friends and come knocking. And if they find you here, I'll get in serious trouble. Sheltering a convict on the run is a crime. Harbouring a fugitive, it's called."

"Then call the police," said Gary.

I blinked. "What?"

Gary unhooked his hands and leaned towards me across the table. His face was less than a foot from mine. "Call the police," he repeated. "Go get your phone and report me. I won't go anywhere." His hand came up and took hold of the zip on his jumpsuit, pulling it down a few inches. More of his smooth chest came into view. "Although you might at least let me get out of this and have a shower."

I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. Gary was watching me calmly. He stood up, his large frame filling the room. He reached for the zipper again. Eased it down another few inches.

My heart beat faster. My eyes were transfixed by the silver zip.

His hand descended, the metallic hiss deafening in the small space. The orange material pulled apart, revealing his bulging pectorals. Then further, to the hard brown bullets of his nipples. Then his abs, taut and defined. The white waistband of his underwear came into view.

Gary shrugged, the two halves falling off his shoulders and leaving him bare to the waist. The smell of masculinity filled the room. My head spun.

"Shower?" said Gary, the sudden sound making me flinch.

I stared at him, at his muscled upper body and at the yet to be revealed lower half. Arousal and caution fought within me. Arousal won. "Door across the hall," I croaked.

Gary face split into his cheeky grin. He stepped around the table towards the door. As he reached it, he looked at me and pointedly glanced down at my own lower regions. I looked down. My boxers were tented and there was a prominent wet spot at the tip. My face flushed and I tried to cover myself.

He just smirked and stepped across the hall to the bathroom. He clicked the light on and kicked the door closed behind him, leaving a small crack open. The shower hummed into life.

I sat at the table, breathing heavily. What was happening? I was a sensible person. I had a stable life. The photos on the fridge were evidence of that. I had a decent job, a small but close social circle, I got on reasonably well with my family. I made calm, well thought out decisions. I did not let escaped fugitives into my flat.

Yet that was exactly what I'd done. I was sitting here with a hard dick listening to Gary humming to himself in the shower. The situation had got away from me very quickly. I absolutely should stop this right now. The longer he was here, the more trouble I was in.

I stood up and stepped out into the hall. To the right was the main room and, more importantly, my phone. Go. Call the police. Do it now.

But the crack in the bathroom door, with the light spilling out of it, was right in front of me. It would only take a second, then I could make the call.

I took another shaking step. The glowing gap was in front of my face. Steam curled out of it. The sound of running water drowned out my racing heart. I took a deep breath and looked in.

For a moment, I saw nothing through the fog. Then the air shifted, and I saw Gary.

He had his back to me, standing under the showerhead. Water cascaded down his powerful back. A tattoo of a thorny rose stretched between his shoulder blades. Soapy foam slid down to the firm mounds of his butt and his tree trunk legs.

Then I saw it.

The light cast his shadow on the wall. I could see his body in profile, his hands soaping his crotch. Then the silhouette of a long, thick tube appeared on the wall.

My breath caught in my throat. The shadow must be distorted by the angle. It was monstrous. And it appeared to be growing. His hand movements had become more deliberate. The tube was starting to jut out from his body. I pressed my face against the door frame.

Gary's head whipped round. He made eye contact with me. He was grinning.

Face burning, I hurried down the hall and threw myself on the bed. I'm such a fucking idiot. If Gary had suspicions about me before, now they were confirmed. He knew the power he had over me.

I couldn't let this continue. I reached for my phone. What number did you dial? It wasn't an emergency, was it? I didn't think I was in danger, except from dying of embarrassment.

As I hesitated, the shower clicked off. In a minute or two, Gary would come out. Would he be naked? If I waited a little longer, I would find out.

I set the phone down. As the bathroom door opened, I grabbed a pillow and covered my erection. No need to add to my shame.

The bathroom light went out. But instead of coming down the hall, his footsteps moved into the kitchen. Confused, I waited in silence. A few moments later, the kitchen light went out and the heavy padding of his feet came towards me.

In the semi-darkness, I saw his outline appear at the end of the hall. He stopped in the doorway. He seemed to be holding a small object.

Unable to stand the suspense, I reached over and turned on my beside light.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Gary was leaning casually against the wall, his body glowing in the light, his prison jumpsuit slung over his shoulder. To my disappointment, he had put his underwear on; off-white briefs that looked well-worn. They bulged outwards, barely containing him.

He raised his hand. He was holding something small and orange. When he started to peel it, I realised it was a tangerine from my fruit bowl.

He broke off a segment, popped it in his mouth, and chewed lazily. Then swallowed. "Planning on calling someone?" he asked. "Or have you already done it?"

"I haven't," I said. "But I will."

Gary broke off another segment. "Go on then," he said. He put the piece in his mouth and began chewing again.

I was paralysed with indecision. My head was screaming one thing at me. My dick, throbbing against the pillow, was screaming something else.

Suffocating silence filled the space between us. Gary continued to eat the tangerine. I continued to watch him.

Finally, he was done, leaving only the peel in his hand. "I'll go if you want me to," he said. "I'll respect your decision. But..." He took a step towards me. "It's late. There's hardly anyone on the streets. They'd spot me easily." Another step. "I'd be grateful if you let me crash here for tonight."

With one more step he was standing over me. His bulging briefs were right in front of my face, close enough to smell the musk.

Gary leaned over and dropped the tangerine peel on my bedside table. The movement caused his bulge to brush against my face. Just for a moment. It was big and firm and hot and made me shudder. I got another whiff of his masculinity and thought I was going to pass out.

"Very, very grateful," he whispered. The fabric seemed to throb, swelling before my eyes.

I gulped. I tore my eyes away from his briefs and looked up at him towering over me. "Alright," I managed. "But tomorrow you're gone. Or I really will call the police."

Gary broke into another cheeky grin. "Thanks, mate," he said. He brought a finger up and, before I could react, drew it across my lips, leaving a sticky residue of tangerine juice. "I knew I could count on you."