Oskar Blows a Gasket by Claire Davis & Al Stewart

Author:Claire Davis & Al Stewart [Davis, Claire & Stewart, Al]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beaten Track Publishing
Published: 2018-03-29T18:30:00+00:00

Oskar

He ran hell-for-leather back to the hostel, only stopping twice for emergency supplies of strawberry milk and Snickers.

I’m coming,” he shouted down the phone. “We need an emerg meeting. Get the others together in the living room.”

It was exciting, like there was a war on. Once, at home, the electricity had gone off, due to a flood, and all the people had poured out onto the streets to congregate and moan. Not that he liked drama—hated it—but community spirit was good for raising the spirits.

“It’s code red!” he said frantically.

“Get away from the house, you hear me?” Bear shouted back. It was nice, having someone care like that. Warm prickles went up and down Oskar’s arms. “Run!” He didn’t like being ordered about, not usually anyway. “Get right away! Shall I call the cops?” He stopped to sip the drink, and realised he had the beginnings of a boner. “Do not talk to that man! You hear me? If he hurts you, I’ll rip his head off.”

“You’ll what?” he asked with interest. “I can’t hear you very well? Must be the shock of it all.”

“Rip his head off and bust his ass!” Bear’s accent had slipped completely into American. “No-one touches my boyfriend!”

Oskar looked around quickly, and adjusted his trousers. ”I was so scared,” he said in what he hoped was a feeble yet brave voice. There was an unexpected vision of himself naked, being carried by Bear.

“Are you OK?” Bear screamed. “Oskar? Please talk to me?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I—I think so anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, a little shaken up,” he said ruefully, sniffing. Bear would be all over him. There would be hugs and cuddles, everyone looking at him like he was the shit. He hurried, though his ankle was starting to rub. “Very shaken up, actually,” he said weakly. “I can see the hostel. My vision has gone blurry.” Bear appeared from the hospital entrance, running fast. He jumped over the bollards and sprinted towards Oskar. “Christ, that’s hot,” Oskar whispered.

Like a scene from a film, Oskar’s trousers went into overdrive. He was pulled into a hug and lifted up by strong arms. It was altogether the best moment of his adult life, and one he would be replaying later on in his bed. He wrapped himself—arms and legs—around Bear, and held on.

“Oh my god! I thought you were in trouble.” Bear’s words went straight into Oskar’s neck, down his top and into his underwear. He kissed Oskar repeatedly, broken up by pauses when he stared into his eyes as if to check for life. “Talk to me?”

Suddenly, Oskar had no words, not even the crappy ones. He stuttered for a few seconds, trying to find something cheesy—some lie—which would assure he kept this guy and the pushing and sizzling in his veins for a very long time, if not forever. But nothing lasted—not family, home, friends—nothing. They found out about you, and then joined the throng in shouting insults and waiting after school with baseball bats. Even Aunty Kath had slapped him.

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