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So Beautiful	By : Leneanna Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 1843 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Even with Darren ranting at the telly whilst watching Big Brother, I still managed to doze off next to him. He found out earlier that he doesn’t need surgery on his shoulder; just a cortisone shot and more therapy. That’s a relief. He woke me up to go upstairs to bed with him once the show was over.

“Rich?”
“Hmm?”
“Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Is the show over?”
“Yeah.”

It’s warm in our bedroom, even with a fan going. I threw my t-shirt on the floor before crawling into bed. D climbed in beside me with that look in his eyes. I sniggered.

“What? You’re looking at me like I’m chocolate-covered or something.”
“Would you like to be?”
“You’re horny, aren’t you?”
“How can you tell?”
“Your eyes.”
“You look so cute in just your shorts, Sweetie.”

He pulls me close. I look into those smouldering blue eyes and kiss him. Maybe I can force myself to stay awake a bit longer. He slides one leg between mine. I wrap one around his waist to bring our nether regions into contact. We’re both just wearing underpants. My brain is trying to decide where to touch him first as he deepens the kiss. His warm hands are gliding slowly down my body as his tongue meets mine. He does know how to ignite me, doesn’t he?

“Take these off,” he whispers, “I wanna touch you.”
“Gladly, Luv.”

The shorts join the shirt on the floor. He pulls the sheets back so we can see what we’re doing. It’s too bloody humid to be all tangled up in sheets anyway! The breeze from the fan feels nice on our skin, even if it’s the same warm air blowing ‘round the room. I can’t see him lying there all aroused and not touch him. It. I watch his eyes.

“Richard...”
“Like it?”
“Mmm...”
“Ooh, right there, Darren...yeah...”
“I know what you like.”
“Yes, you do.”

I close my eyes, enjoying feeling him touch me there with both hands. No (laugh), I’m not that large. He’s got fingers on me in all different spots. Bliss. I open my eyes.

“I wonder...how many licks it would take to undo you?”
“That depends, Darren. On whether you want this to last, or you want it over with quickly.”
“I want whatever you’d enjoy most.”

I think about it for a second.

“What I’d enjoy most...how ‘bout if you ease your finger into me so you’re just hitting the spot, and suck me off at the same time?”

He smiles.

“On one condition, Darling.”
“What’s that, Luv?”
“That you do the same for me.”
“Deal.”

Prostate stimulation is very intense if done properly. We went from gentle whispers to ecstatic moans that rattled the windows, and pretty much covered each other in um... “glitter”. And then we just collapsed in each other’s arms. Sod it, we’ll shower in the morning! Too bloody exhausted to move. That’s one way to get Darren to fall asleep: mind-blowing sex. When it works. Except for walking the dog, we didn’t do much at all until late afternoon the next day, when we went to the U2 concert at Wembley. The show was amazing. We were like two carefree teenagers, doing our best “Beavis and Butthead” imitations. I got a very cool new t-shirt for my collection. I think half of London was wearing the same one the following day.

I had a feeling about this: Darren’s travel plans have changed again. He’s leaving tomorrow night, so we’re spending all day together, getting in one more Happy Love Day before he goes. The busier I stay whilst he’s gone, the faster it will go. Work, work, work, catch up with old friends. Maybe have a cookout or two. I’ll get through it. I haven’t got a choice, have I?

We spent the day walking down by London Bridge and Covent Gardens. We didn’t even talk much, except for whispered “I love you’s”, and kisses stolen behind pillars and such. We felt like kids skipping school. It was fun. When did I turn into a dripping romantic fool? I never used to care much for all this mushy-gushy stuff. Not until I fell in love with Darren. I remember the first time he brought me flowers. I got all teary. Maybe he was right. Maybe I never really was in love before. I never thought it could be this...what’s the word I’m looking for? Soul-stirring? Deep? Connected. You know what I’m getting at? (sigh) Anyway, I hope we make love one more time before he leaves.

As it turned out, we didn’t, because he had a business meeting that took up most of the day. He brought his suitcases with him, and asked me to come too, so we could celebrate afterwards. I won’t bore you with the details, but what we were celebrating was a very lucrative publishing deal that Darren signed. “Securing our future”, he called it. We had a late dinner with his manager and attorney, and we ended up going straight to the airport. He’s been buzzing with excitement all day, and hasn’t come down yet. I won’t be a killjoy by acting all sad in front of him. And I truly am happy about the publishing thing. Darren really does have great business sense.

“Just think Rich, you could bump me off and cash in. You’d be set for life, M’Love.”

I roll my eyes.

“As if, Darren! The money doesn’t mean jack-shit to me without you.”

He looked at me.

“I’m gonna miss you too. Just trying not to dwell on it. I’ll call as soon as I land. Love you.”

He kissed me good-bye and was off. I got a taxi home and slept most of the morning, after tending to the dog. And then I just worked, with the music blaring. And somehow, I survived two weeks without him, but by the last day, I can safely say we were both climbing the walls. We resorted to webcam-sex a few times. He was only half-joking when he tweeted about wanking. He just left out the part about us doing it together. And then he came home for the weekend. We only got out of bed to do the washing, so Darren could pack his suitcase with clean clothes. He phoned me from the cab on the way home, and I told him not to talk, just to listen.

“I want you to come in and head straight upstairs. I’ll be in our bed waiting for you. You are going to get the daylights shagged out of you.”

He was silent for a moment. I could hear him breathing. “Sounds great, Darling. See you soon.” I layed there, smiling, visualising what I was eagerly anticipating. When I heard the car pull up, my heart was racing. I stood in our bedroom doorway, listening to him cuddling the dog downstairs. And then he was there, face-to-face with me. We reached for each other.

“I’ve missed you so much, Baby.”
“Don’t say it, Darren. Just love me.”

Our senses came alive as we shared a passionate kiss that neither of us wanted to break. We only stopped kissing long enough to undress and pull each other onto our bed. We were both hard in seconds.

“So, about that shag...”
“Yes?”
“What are you waiting for? Give it to me, Richard.”

He opens the drawer next to the bed without even looking. If I didn’t think he needed it, I’d skip the bloody foreplay and just nail him right then and there, but after two weeks without, I figured he could probably do with a bit of prep first. I took it as a personal challenge to see how fast I could get him to relax for me. It didn’t take long. He wanted it as badly as I did.

“Oof! Get your bloody feet out of my face, Darren!”, I laugh.
“Well, where am I supposed to put my legs then?”, he giggles.
“Pull them up towards your chest, and slide down a bit. That’s it.”

(Can I just say I love this position?!) And just to make it perfect, it started raining. The sound of rain always gets me going.

“Ready?”
“Bring it, Bitch!”

I can’t help but laugh. I’m trying to go easy on him.

“Ooh yeah. Harder!”

My eyes are locked on his.

“Mmm...yes, Richard! More!”
“You sure?”

To prove his point, he slams back down onto me, hard, driving me deep into him. My eyes roll back.

“Oh fuck, Darren! That felt good! Do it again. Aah yeah...”

Alright, he’s proved his point. I rammed him until we were both screaming. He didn’t even have to say it. I could feel it deep inside him: his muscles clenching around me. He didn’t want to strain his voice by screaming, but it was a bit late for that. He managed to keep it to a loud moan.

“Oh fuck! Darren...ohh God...aaah...yeah...”

I collapsed onto him, shuddering. It was great. We were trying to catch our breath as we lay entwined. We missed each other so much that we both ended up crying, because the release was so strong.

“Richard, I don’t want to go.”
“I know, Baby. I don’t want you to either. Can we just not think about it for a couple of days and just keep loving each other?”
“Yes. It’s just that it hurts to be so far away, because I love you so much.”
“I know.”

I’m choking back a sob. Tears are running down my face. He kisses me until I stop crying, and we reach for each other again.

“Let me do you this time?”

I nod. We spent our 2 ½ days making love as if we could stock up on it. I couldn’t watch him walk away. I kept my eyes closed until he was out the door. Then I had a good cry. I’ve never begrudged him his career, nor all the time apart we’ve had to endure, but at that very moment, I wished I was married to Darren the pre-school teacher, and not Darren Hayes, the pop singer. (sigh) This is going to be a long month. Might as well make the best of it. Maybe I can accomplish some Christmas shopping whilst he’s away.

Pete rang me up to ask if I’d be interested in being a guest lecturer at uni, just a one-off thing.

“Do you still have your graduate presentation on “How Star Wars Revolutionised the Sci-Fi Genre”?
“Yeah, somewhere. Why?”
“It’d be perfect.”

I said yes. Gave me an excuse to get out of the house for a day. Darren was excited for me. I showed him the presentation a couple of years ago, and he was fascinated. He said I should write a book about it. Nah. I don’t think so. Anyways, he had the projector-dock all set up for me, and even loaned me his laser pointer. I’ve got one somewhere. Probably in the back of a desk drawer, but damned if I could find it when I needed it. I recognised some of the students I’d worked with before on that video project. Great kids. They were chuffed to see me again.

So this is how it went: Pete and I were chatting in the lecture hall. He had me all set up with a little clip-on mic, so I wasn’t glued to the podium. I tend to pace a bit when I lecture. Promptly at 9:30, he shut the doors.

“Good morning.”
“Morning, Professor.”
“We’ve got a great presentation for you today. Some of you have had the pleasure of working with my colleague, Richard Cullen. For those of you that haven’t, Richard is a brilliant director, digital animator, and graphic artist. He’s done work for Darren Hayes, George Michael, and numerous other acts. I could go on, but I’ll let him elaborate if he chooses.”

(At this point, I’m blushing furiously.)

“Please make welcome Mr. Richard Cullen.”

(I really hate applause.)

“Thank you.”

(One of the kids actually howled. Find me a hole to crawl into.)

“And thank you for that lovely introduction, Professor Martin. A few of you whom I’ve worked with before know that at my house, we’re big Star Wars buffs. I thought it might be fun to share with you today a presentation I created a few years back, when I was pursuing my Masters in Film Studies. Have we got any Star Wars fans here? Show of hands. For those of you that aren’t, you’ll at least leave today with a collection of meaningless trivia you can use to dazzle people with at parties.”

They laughed. Good sign. With that, I launched into it. Two hours later, as the lights came up, the predominant comment I was hearing was “That was so cool!”

Many of the students stopped to shake my hand and tell me they enjoyed the presentation. I was secretly chuffed. I chuckled to myself at how freaked out Darren would be to shake all those hands. He’d have run to the men’s loo straightaway to scald the germs off his hand. Pete was ecstatic.

“You know you could be a full professor if you ever got tired of doing what you’re doing.”
“Thanks, Mate. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Let’s grab some lunch. I’m buying.”

So we’re having this lovely lunch at the closest Chinese buffet, and all of a sudden, Pete looks up and gets this expression on his face like he’s seen a ghost.

“Oh shit! Don’t turn around, Rich.”
“Why, who is it?”, I whisper.
“Chris.”
“Chris? Chris who?”
“Your ex.”

Too late. He sees Pete and comes over. I’m not sure what I feel at that moment. Like I’ve just been kicked in the gut, mostly. I thought the guy was in jail. Our eyes meet.

“Richard! Bloody hell, it’s great to see you!”
“Chris.”

I’m not showing any emotion. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that seeing him again feels a bit like digging up a long-dead corpse. Not particularly pleasant, and best left buried. Lest the whole restaurant hear us, Pete invites him to sit. First place his eyes go is to my wedding ring.

“So. You’re married.”
“I am.”
“Rich, look, I know this is awkward. I know I can’t take back what happened. I want you to know that I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you, and for wrecking what we had. Maybe some day you’ll see fit to forgive me.”

I take a deep breath.

“I forgave you a long time ago. It would’ve been too easy to hold onto the hurt and use it as an excuse to avoid relationships, but I refused to let our mistakes cause me any more pain. Once I let go and opened myself up to finding my true mate, I met Darren.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
“So, how long have you been...?”
“Out of prison?”
“Yeah.”
“I was paroled in March. Been working as a rehab counselor ever since. I’ll let you blokes get back to your lunch. Good seeing you, Rich. Pete.”

And he was off. Pete and I looked at each other.

“Well then.”
“That had to be uncomfortable.”

I shrug.

“A bit. I’ve long since gotten over him. You know, it’s funny, but I think we’ve all been in relationships that we’ve desperately held onto whilst we were in them, because we think it’s the best we’ll ever have, or it’s our last chance for love, or whatever, but once they end, and you’ve had a chance to look back, in retrospect, they weren’t that great. I wonder why we do that to ourselves?”

“Fear of being alone, probably.”
“God, I miss Darren.”
“I know, Mate.”
“Gonna be a great new CD when it’s done.”
“Can’t wait to hear it.”

We finished up lunch. Pete headed back to uni, and I caught the next train home, absorbed in thought. I found an old photo album from when Chris and I were together, and took it with me whilst I brought the dog to the park. I let him off-lead and sat on a bench with a bottle of water, looking through old memories: Our crappy little flat. How his mates never thought I was good enough for him, because he was an accountant and I was in theatre. They called me “Artsy-Fartsy” behind my back. I hated his stuffed-shirt friends! “The Suits”, I called them. All the condescending bullshit I put up with. What the fuck for? Did love make me that blind? (sigh) I guess we’ve all been there. And if I hadn’t had enough and broken up with him shortly before all the shit hit the fan, I’d never have met Darren. Once he and I were together, I could look back and realise how pathetic I was for trying to hold on for so long. Darren had done the same thing in his previous relationship too. I guess you have to walk through the darkest part of the forest before you come to the sunny meadow on the other side. I closed the photo album.

“Have a nice life, Chris. Try not to fuck it up too much this time, asshole! Oh, and another thing: Darren is far better in bed than you ever were.”

I collected Wally and headed home, loving Darren for rescuing me, and missing him. I glanced at my watch. At this moment, it’s around 7AM where Darren is. I’m sure he’s asleep, but it was as if he knew I needed to talk to him. My mobile rang.

“Darren! Why are you up so early?”
“You called out to me. I felt it. What’s going on?”
“Okay, are you ready to hear this?”
“Uh oh. Did you wreck the car? Burn down the house?”

I laugh.

“No, nothing that dramatic. I ran into my ex whilst Pete and I were having lunch.”
“Your ex? Which one? The bloke that was in jail?”
“Yep.”
“Lemme guess. You’re leaving me for him?”
“Oh fuck no!”

I told him what happened, and how I felt about the whole thing, and we ended up showering each other with gratitude and appreciation. Maybe once he’s back, we’ll have a few days in Paris. I know we’ll get through the next few weeks. His love is with me wherever he goes. And mine is with him. Chris? Chris who? Never heard of him.
- 18
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So Beautiful