To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Tuesday June 3rd 6:55pm
> You *are* my rock. My point of non-drama, my lover, my best
friend, my
> heart. You make it better by just existing, just being
there. By not
> backing off, and by calling when I'm too stubborn to pick up the
phone and
> lean on you.
I love you, Oliver Kurland, more than I know how to say. I'm here
(although
I wish I was there) and here to stay. Lean away, lover.
> > Jase want's me back in his office at 4, so I'm just glad you
mailed. I
> > was worrying. Still worried. Hate that you have to deal with
all this
> > and I can't be there to help.
>
> You're helping anyway.
I doubt it, but - I want to.
> > Next time - heaven help there's a next time - but next
time -
> > call me. Wake me up and ... I'm being selfish. Sorry.
>
> I promise--I need you, I'll call. You might want to warn
your roommates
> that you're American boyfriend has crazy crap going on and might
be ringing
> in the middle of the night.
Thank you. I'll warn them, but - no, I trust you to keep your promises.
Just
go on the generous side when you're defining 'need', ok? If in
doubt, call
me.
> I really hope that things just...stop while Dad's here. I
don't want him
> brought into all this.
That makes sense. Although I still like that you're not in an empty
house
for a couple of nights.
> And I'd like a quiet hour or two to tell him about you.
About what you
> mean to me. About how much I love you and want to be with
you.
You remember that thing I said about you blowing me away? That.
Let's see if I can do that casual thing - say Hi to him for me.
> > Most of all I love you and I miss you like crazy right now.
>
> Me too. Love you so much. Miss you more than I'd
thought possible. It
> aches.
Wish I could be hugging you. Wish I could slip into your office and
massage
your shoulders and finger comb your hair and rub gentle circles on your
temples and kiss you, slow and gentle, and make the ache and the stress
and
the everything else just go away.
> Hope things go well with Jase, love. Will e-mail you tonight
after Dad's
> settled.
It's been a really long day, but we went over and over and over
some of the
politics stuff, and I actually feel like I've got more of a grasp now,
which
is a good. We actually spent most of that last session talking about
that
stupid hippy module, and Jase was more use in a couple of hours than the
lecturer has been all term. That and he wheedled out of me the jist of
why I
was so worked up, and he was actually really sorted about it - told me
to go
ahead and ring you so I could concentrate, and sent me off to check
mail,
and was generally - nice. Didn't make me feel like an idiot for
overreacting
or anything, and didn't even blink at the gay thing either.
The revision session last night was - well, it's a good thing that I
figure
out what I don’t know at this stage, when there's time to fix it - but -
stressful. And it ended up a really late session - went back to Jon's
place
and carried on and - I wasn’t drinking, but still, felt like crap first
thing this morning and sometimes it's just tiring dealing with people,
and
Ian's trashed the living room again, and then you're dealing with all
this,
and I just want to crash and tug you down beside me and fall asleep for
a
week with you wrapped safe around me.
Thanks to cursed reality, I think I'm set for a phone call home, a long
bath, an early night, and an attempt at ignoring the guy's mess. Wish me
luck.
And ring me if you need me.
Love you.
T.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent Tuesday June 3rd 11:52pm
Love,
Dad's here. We're a little drunk.
He's about ready to go after Peter on his own, and for a peace and love
kinda hippy guy? That's saying something. At the same time
he wants to
adopt you, I think.
That would make us brothers and much with the ew, so I said no.
Did you call home?
What would you say if I asked you how you'd feel about me moving to
England?
Love you.
Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent Wednesday June 4th 8:52am
Morning love,
I think technically this is bright eyed and bushy tailed. Early for no
good
reason, at least. I sacked out so early last night - spent an hour in
the
bath with my new book - which is good, btw, and thank you for
recommending
it. I'd ask how far you'd got so I could chat to you about it
without
ruining the plot, but I suspect it's somewhere way down the bottom of
your
list of priorities right now. - so yes, a long bath, and
then I was in bed
by about 9.30. Hence the early morning. Although there's no coffee left
at
home, and I'm out of change for the vending machine, so pure
uncaffinated
me. That's why I'm making no sense.
> He's about ready to go after Peter on his own, and for a peace and
love
> kinda hippy guy? That's saying something.
You're Dad clearly cares about you, is all. Have you heard from
anyone -
are Jess and Kim ok? Are you ok? Sleep alright?
> At the same time he wants to adopt you, I think.
>
> That would make us brothers and much with the ew, so I said no.
Love, that just make me laugh. Got a little bit more than just brotherly
love going on here, but - for real? You're dad's giving us the seal of
approval? That's so cool.
> Did you call home?
Kept it short so the resident lovebirds could carry on billing and
cooing -
mostly running up billing. Chatted to Seth really briefly - his exams
start
in about ten days and there are millions of the things. He's doing 10
GCSE's
and there's four papers for some of them! So that actually went pretty
smoothly, only I could hear him in the background once Mum was on the
line -
she's still waiting for news, and was asking after my work and all that
sort
of thing, and I said her failsafe roast chicken thing had worked for
you, so
she asked how you were doing (I fudged and said busy but mostly good -
really didn’t want to get into it all with the guys listening in, you
know?)
Says to say hello, and reminded me not to get distracted from studying,
and
I can hear Seth slamming around in the background. Didn't push it there
and
then, but... I guess he does have a problem with my sexuality after
all. I
so don’t know what I can do about that. So don't want to think on it too
much.
> What would you say if I asked you how you'd feel about me moving to
> England?
God, Oliver, don't tempt me. Love you. Want you. Want you here at my
side,
and away from Peter and all his bullshit so much.
I love you and I'm trying to be sensible about this, and at the same
time
it's almost scary how quickly, how easily, I can picture living with
you, or
even just having you live somewhere where it might be days between
visits,
not months.
But then again - you moving here, away from friends, family, your
career -
that's too much to ask, isn't it? Too much sacrifice. And god-forbid
thing
go wrong. That's you alone in a strange city again, and I don't want
that
for you. Ever. Don't want to leave you either. I love you. What would
you
say if I asked you how you'd feel about me moving to Boston?
I guess I should really go get on with some work, seeing as I'm awake
and
down here. Maybe see if I can track down Becka and get her to stand me
some
lunch while I bend her ear about Seth.
Love you, Oliver. Always.
Yours.
T
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Wednesday June 4th 9:30am
Hi lover,
> I think technically this is bright eyed and bushy tailed. Early
> for no good reason, at least. I sacked out so early last night -
> spent an hour in the bath with my new book - which is good,
> btw, and thank you for recommending it. I'd ask how far you'd
> got so I could chat to you about it without ruining the plot, but
> I suspect it's somewhere way down the bottom of your
> list of priorities right now.
Yeah, unfortunately. But Dad's a pretty quiet guy, I suspect I'll
be able
to catch up to you while he's here. *Pauses to think about Tom in
the tub*
> - so yes, a long bath, and then I was in bed by about 9.30.
Hence the
> early morning. Although there's no coffee left at home, and I'm
out of
> change for the vending machine, so pure uncaffinated me. That's
why
> I'm making no sense.
Eek! Lack of coffee is a bad thing. :-)
> > He's about ready to go after Peter on his own, and for a
peace and love
> > kinda hippy guy? That's saying something.
>
> Your Dad clearly cares about you, is all. Have you heard
from anyone -
> are Jess and Kim ok? Are you ok? Sleep alright?
The girls are fine, though still a little amazed. Ker's not
spoken to
anyone, and Tim called my office voice mail this morning to say that
he'd
heard what happened and was going to see Kerry later today.
I'm fine, really. Slept not too bad, but I think that the waking
was more
due to sleeping on the fold out couch than anything else. Dad's got my
room.
> > At the same time he wants to adopt you, I think.
> >
> > That would make us brothers and much with the ew, so I said
no.
>
> Love, that just make me laugh. Got a little bit more than just
brotherly
> love going on here, but - for real? You're dad's giving us the
seal of
> approval? That's so cool.
Yeah, he just wants me happy. :-) And that's you.
> > Did you call home?
>
> Kept it short so the resident lovebirds could carry on billing
> and cooing - mostly running up billing. Chatted to Seth really
briefly -
> his exams start in about ten days and there are millions of the
things. He's
> doing 10 GCSE's and there's four papers for some of them!
Wow, that sounds like a lot.
> So that actually went pretty smoothly, only I could hear him in
the
> background once Mum was on the line - she's still waiting for
news,
> and was asking after my work and all that sort of thing, and I
said her
> failsafe roast chicken thing had worked for you, so she asked how
you
> were doing (I fudged and said busy but mostly good - really didn’t
want
> to get into it all with the guys listening in, you know?)
Yeah, I know. Think it's really cool she asked about me. :-)
> Says to say hello, and reminded me not to get distracted from
> studying, and I can hear Seth slamming around in the background.
> Didn't push it there and then, but... I guess he does have a
problem
> with my sexuality after all. I so don’t know what I can do about
that.
> So don't want to think on it too much.
Ah. That...sucks. :-( Are you going to be spending
any time with them
after your exams? Maybe you two can talk then.
Do you think maybe his trouble with it isn't that he thinks you're
'bad',
but that he's...confused?
> > What would you say if I asked you how you'd feel about me
moving to
> > England?
>
> God, Oliver, don't tempt me. Love you. Want you. Want you here at
my side,
> and away from Peter and all his bullshit so much.
>
> I love you and I'm trying to be sensible about this, and at the
same time
> it's almost scary how quickly, how easily, I can picture living
> with you, or even just having you live somewhere where it might be
days
> between visits, not months.
>
> But then again - you moving here, away from friends, family, your
career -
> that's too much to ask, isn't it? Too much sacrifice.
Let's see. My father--who I see once every couple of years and
hear from
sporadically. My mother, who doesn't acknowledge my existence, my
sister
who would sooner spit on me than pass on by. My stalker ex-lover, my friend
who sided with the stalker, and his lover who remained neutral until it
was
too late. My lesbian friends who, while sweet, aren't exactly
into the same
things I'm into. My assistant, who is a love, but not really a close friend.
And you.
I'm thinking I could deal.
> And god-forbid thing go wrong. That's you alone in a strange city
again,
> and I don't want that for you. Ever.
Not going to happen. And if it did? I move back. Or
stay.
> Don't want to leave you either. I love you. What would you
> say if I asked you how you'd feel about me moving to Boston?
The same thing. The difference being that your family is a
family, and you
have everything right there for you. I'm...adrift here.
> I guess I should really go get on with some work, seeing as I'm
awake and
> down here. Maybe see if I can track down Becka and get her to
stand me some
> lunch while I bend her ear about Seth.
Say hi for me. And...think about it? Me moving, I
mean. I can poke around
and see if there's been any movement on the London office.
Love you, Tom,
Your Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Wednesday June 4th 4.35pm
Hey you,
Becka bought me coffee - and lunch - and chocolate - so I'm much more awake
than I was this morning, despite the effect of history revision.
History
revision and some mutual shoulder providing. I suddenly realise I
should be
counting myself lucky that my housemates are only messy phone-hogging
slobs,
really. Becka's household features at least one, possibly two, certified
bunny-boilers. I'm going over there this evening with a toolkit to help
her
install a lock on her room door.
> > I'd ask how far you'd got so I could chat to you about
it without
> > ruining the plot, but I suspect it's somewhere way down the
bottom
> > of your list of priorities right now.
>
> Yeah, unfortunately. But Dad's a pretty quiet guy, I suspect
I'll be able
> to catch up to you while he's here.
No worries - and enjoy the visiting while you've got it, yeah?
> *Pauses to think about Tom in the tub*
Mmmm - thinking about you in the shower.
> > I'm out of change for the vending machine, so pure
uncaffinated
> > me. That's why I'm making no sense.
>
> Eek! Lack of coffee is a bad thing. :-)
Just going to say this the once - I detest being this broke. Really
really
flipping hate it. And yet I's sticking to budget and not getting out any
more cash till Friday. Or it will be worse later. But still. Hate
it. And
lack of coffee stinks.
> > You're dad's giving us the seal of approval? That's so cool.
>
> Yeah, he just wants me happy. :-) And that's you.
I love you. So much.
> > Chatted to Seth really briefly - his exams start in
about ten days
> > and there are millions of the things. He's doing 10 GCSE's
and
> > there's four papers for some of them!
>
> Wow, that sounds like a lot.
Well, some of them are only, like, thirty minutes, but - yeah. I only
did
9 - like most sane people. 10's a lot, and it's not even like one of
them is
something token like 'general studies' - they're all real subjects.
> > Says to say hello, and reminded me not to get distracted from
> > studying, and I can hear Seth slamming around in the
background.
> > Didn't push it there and then, but... I guess he does have a
problem
> > with my sexuality after all. I so don’t know what I can do
about that.
> > So don't want to think on it too much.
>
> Ah. That...sucks. :-( Are you going to be
spending any time with them
> after your exams? Maybe you two can talk then.
I guess I'll go home for a week or two, although I should really be here
looking for work. I honestly haven’t planned that far ahead. Just
exams. And
you visiting. Everything else is vague and somewhat intimidating. Way
back I
was talking to my parents about having him come down here and use my
place
as a base for a couple of days in London to celebrate the end of his
exams,
but right now - I'm not so sure that's a good idea. Knowing my luck the
guys
will get him drunk and or stoned, and then he'll find your present and
things will go all colours of nasty ....
> Do you think maybe his trouble with it isn't that he thinks you're
'bad',
> but that he's...confused?
OK, so that actually hadn't crossed my mind. Um - I guess I can’t rule
it
out. Although it's not that likely, is it? [oh look - we're back at the
genetics angle again, aren't we?] Weird. I guess that's something
to bear
in mind if we ever actually manage to have a straight conversation about
anything.
> The same thing. The difference being that your family is a
family, and you
> have everything right there for you. I'm...adrift here.
You know how hard it is not to just say. "Please. Come here. Now. And
don't
leave."?
OK - so my family. Who I see once in a while, and am currently avoiding
because my brother's - being Seth. Phone calls and an annual
visit. And
having everything right here? Oliver: I'm unemployed and about to be
homeless. You're the one with an actual career doing something you like,
that actually has some meaning ... To be honest? If you can
get a transfer
over here with your work that's not going to utterly scupper your
promotion
prospects, a lot of my attempts at being reasonable head straight out
of the
window. I love you. I'd - I'd be deliriously happy if you were
living in
the same city as me. So long as it was the right thing for you. I want
for
you to be happy. You thinking about moving here, or about running away
from
there, Oliver? And what if you move to London and I get a job in
Manchester
or something? What if you move here and I can't find a job and
end up being
unemployed back in rural Cambridgeshire with my asshole brother?
What does
your Dad think of the idea?
That said: Please. Come here. Now. And don't leave. I love you.
That was coherent and well presented wasn't it?
I should probably go and get my gear and over to Becka's so I get back in
time for climbing - I'll skip the bar after and head back her to check
in.
I'm - I guess twitchy, today. Really really *really* looking forward to
talking to you tomorrow night. Want so badly to just hold you and be
with
you - and distract you utterly from your problems.
I love you.
T.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Wednesday June 4th 5:33pm
He love,
> History revision and some mutual shoulder providing. I suddenly
realise I
> should be counting myself lucky that my housemates are only messy
> phone-hogging slobs, really. Becka's household features at least
one,
> possibly two, certified bunny-boilers. I'm going over there this
evening
> with a toolkit to help her install a lock on her room door.
Eek. What's up there? Psychos aren't fun.
> Just going to say this the once - I detest being this broke.
Really really
> flipping hate it. And yet I's sticking to budget and not getting
out any
> more cash till Friday. Or it will be worse later. But still.
> Hate it. And lack of coffee stinks.
*hugs you tight* :-(
Um. You know I'll send you some if you need it. And I know
you won't take
it, but please--if you need food? For Christ's sake let me help
out.
> > > Chatted to Seth really briefly - his exams start in
about ten days
> > > and there are millions of the things. He's doing 10
GCSE's and
> > > there's four papers for some of them!
> >
> > Wow, that sounds like a lot.
>
> Well, some of them are only, like, thirty minutes, but - yeah. I
only did
> 9 - like most sane people. 10's a lot, and it's not even like one
> of them is something token like 'general studies' - they're all
real
> subjects.
Jeeze. He's going to need a week to sleep when he's done.
> > Ah. That...sucks. :-( Are you going to be
spending any time with them
> > after your exams? Maybe you two can talk then.
>
> I guess I'll go home for a week or two, although I should really
be here
> looking for work. I honestly haven’t planned that far ahead. Just
> exams. And you visiting. Everything else is vague and somewhat
> intimidating. Way back I was talking to my parents about having
him
> come down here and use my place as a base for a couple of days in
> London to celebrate the end of his exams, but right now - I'm not
so
> sure that's a good idea. Knowing my luck the guys will get him
drunk
> and or stoned, and then he'll find your present and things will go
all
> colours of nasty ....
Oh god. I just realized my own...toy is in the nightstand.
And Dad's in
there. Alone. All day. With time to snoop a little
bit.
> > Do you think maybe his trouble with it isn't that he thinks
> > you're 'bad', but that he's...confused?
>
> OK, so that actually hadn't crossed my mind. Um - I guess I can’t
rule it
> out. Although it's not that likely, is it? [oh look - we're back
at the
> genetics angle again, aren't we?] Weird. I guess that's
something to bear
> in mind if we ever actually manage to have a straight conversation
about
> anything.
/me avoids making a comment about either of us ever having a straight
anything, let alone a conversation.
> OK - so my family. Who I see once in a while, and am currently
avoiding
> because my brother's - being Seth. Phone calls and an annual
visit. And
> having everything right here? Oliver : I'm unemployed and
about to be
> homeless. You're the one with an actual career doing something you
like,
> that actually has some meaning ... To be honest? If
you can get
> a transfer over here with your work that's not going to utterly
scupper your
> promotion prospects, a lot of my attempts at being reasonable head
straight
> out of the window. I love you. I'd - I'd be deliriously
happy if you were
> living in the same city as me. So long as it was the right thing
for you. I want for
> you to be happy. You thinking about moving here, or about running
> away from there, Oliver? And what if you move to London and I get
a job in
> Manchester or something? What if you move here and I can't
find a job and
> end up being unemployed back in rural Cambridgeshire with my
asshole
> brother? What does your Dad think of the idea?
Dad looked at me last night and asked why the hell I wasn't in London.
The rest...God, I don't know, lover. All I know is that I want to
be with
you. And if you got a job in Manchester I'd probably follow you
there. And
if you don't get a job, I'd want you to stay with me instead of going
home--there's a point when pride is ridiculous. Hard to look for
a job in
London when you're living at home.
I don't know. I shouldn't have said anything.
> That said: Please. Come here. Now. And don't leave. I love you.
I love you. I want to come. I...I want to come right away,
just fly over
in the morning and sort it out later. Not practical, but how I
feel.
> That was coherent and well presented wasn't it?
:-) Yes.
> I should probably go and get my gear and over to Becka's so I get
back in
> time for climbing - I'll skip the bar after and head back her to
check in.
> I'm - I guess twitchy, today. Really really *really* looking
forward to
> talking to you tomorrow night. Want so badly to just hold you and
be with
> you - and distract you utterly from your problems.
Call me, love. I'll be there.
Want to hold you.
Love you.
Your Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Wednesday June 4th 10:23pm
Evening, Oliver - love.
I am feeling so much better for that - good solid evening's climbing,
and
it's like I'm back in my skin properly. Seems to have been one of those
gilded evening's - a bunch of people made their next milestones
tonight, so
the bus back was pretty damn happy. Sunday's trip is sold out - back to
the
quarry that I didn't get to go on a couple of weeks back - and, they've
picked the new treasurer for next year, so as soon as I can get all the
paperwork for that together I can pass that whole thing over to the new
girl. Sam.
Trying to summarise everything to James made me realise - the last few
weeks
have just been insane, haven't they?
> > History revision and some mutual shoulder providing. I
suddenly realise I
> > should be counting myself lucky that my housemates are only
messy
> > phone-hogging slobs, really. Becka's household features at
least one,
> > possibly two, certified bunny-boilers. I'm going over there
this evening
> > with a toolkit to help her install a lock on her room door.
>
> Eek. What's up there? Psychos aren't fun.
No - not fun at all. She's in the same situation as me, with the
university
having assigned her random housemates. Only she got a room in a larger
house - eight girls, including her, and most of them first years.
She
bitched about it a bit when she got back - I think mostly because most
of
them had no clue about the practical living-alone stuff, so she sort of
ended up as 'den mother' and if you knew Becka - that's so not her.
Lovely
lass, but not the most patient of people, especially when dealing with
idiots. There's already been stress about the usual stuff, and
one of the
girls, Nicole, has some kind of borderline obsessive compulsive thing
and
gets really worked up if people interrupt her routines or move her
stuff,
even a little bit.
Apparently things went seriously pear shaped this weekend, with one of
the
girls - Cathy, I think her name is - little bottle-blond thing - split
up
with her boyfriend. Only the boyfriend, smooth as you like, switches his
attentions to another girl in the house. Jesus Christ was that a bad
idea.
Cathy went completely ape, kicked her way into this other girls room and
threw herself at the two of them - and because Becka's apparently moved
in
to The Real Life or something equally soap-opera-ish, of course bloke
and new
girl - Sasha? I kind of lost track - were doing the dirty at the time
...
One of the other girls ended up calling the police to get them split up
and
out of the house - the landlord took offence to this, and to the broken
door
and wrecked furniture, and, of course, everyone in the house has had to
take
sides .... can we say 'atmosphere you can cut with a knife'? Bitch
fights at
dawn over the toaster, is how Becka put it. She insisted on
cooking me a
quick dinner as a thanks for the lock-smithing, and trying to sit and
eat in
their living room with people walking through glaring at each other -
not
good.
Whether or not it's related, she thinks someone's been going through
her room
while she's out - and she's had stuff go missing from her cupboard in
the
kitchen, and all of them at one point or another have complained about
stuff
going missing from the washing line, hence the lock, so at least Becka
can
leave her room safely. The landlord's probably going to have a fit about
that too - he's put bolts on the doors for privacy but nothing you can
lock
when you're not inside - but Becka's as sure as she can be there's no
way
they'll get the deposit back anyway, thanks to the mass trashing of
furniture
during The Drama, so she might as well have some peace of mind.
> > Just going to say this the once - I detest being this broke.
Really
> > really flipping hate it. And yet I's sticking to budget and
not getting
> > out any more cash till Friday. Or it will be worse
later. But still.
> > Hate it. And lack of coffee stinks.
>
> *hugs you tight* :-(
>
> Um. You know I'll send you some if you need it. And I
know you won't
> take it, but please--if you need food? For Christ's sake let
me help out.
Um - sorry? I was just letting off steam - it's not that
desperate yet,
just - too close to the bone for books and vending machine junk, and I'd
rather have the book. I mean - there'll be free coffee at home, just as
soon
as my housemates crawl from their pits to buy the stuff, you
know? I'm
very aware that I don't know where the next infusion of life into the
bank
accounts going to come, so I'm being really strict about not going over.
And you're right - I feel weird enough about letting you pay for our
phone
calls : your bill must be scary! It's not like skipping lunch a
few days is
going to reduce me to Ethiopian proportions. And I've been sponge-tastic
today and had lunch and tea courtesy of Becka.
> Oh god. I just realized my own...toy is in the
nightstand. And Dad's in
> there. Alone. All day. With time to snoop a
little bit.
How come the idea of your dad opening the draw, nodding quietly and
closing
it again without a reaction *isn't* what comes to mind? How come
you've
given up your bed for him? In fact - did he ever explain why the
short
notice visiting?
> /me avoids making a comment about either of us ever having a
straight
> anything, let alone a conversation.
Pest.
> Dad looked at me last night and asked why the hell I wasn't in
London.
What did you say?
> The rest...God, I don't know, lover. All I know is that I
want to be with
> you. And if you got a job in Manchester I'd probably follow
you there.
Can I remind you again about that 'you blow me away sometimes'
thing? I
love you. It's a little scary and a lot cool that you'd say that.
> And if you don't get a job, I'd want you to stay with me instead
of going
> home--there's a point when pride is ridiculous. Hard to look
for a job in
> London when you're living at home.
Thank you. I know it probably looks like I'm being totally ridiculous,
but -
I don't want to assume that I could just move in with you and I
sure as
hell don't expect you to look after me, and - I guess I'm just painfully
aware that I guess I don't have so much to offer at the moment, you
know?
> I don't know. I shouldn't have said anything.
I love you. Yes, you should.
> > That said: Please. Come here. Now. And don't leave. I love
you.
>
> I love you. I want to come. I...I want to come right
away, just fly over
> in the morning and sort it out later. Not practical, but how
I feel.
If it was just a matter of us both ending up homeless and broke I'd say
screw it, and when's the next flight, but - love. Don't get yourself
banned
from entering the country, 'k? Yes, I am a paranoid android sometimes.
Just
call me Marvin. Um - did I mention I'd looked at immigration
stuff, at all?
Both ways. Um - a while ago? I can pretend that it was research for my
diss,
if that makes me sound less - whatever that makes me sound. The
parts about
skilled migrant workers actually were.
Just so you have it totally clear in your mind? I love you, and I'm
having
scarily full on thoughts about not just living in the same country as
you,
but in the same house, and all the rest of that. And I'm kind of
looking at
the calendar going 'oh right - just a couple of months, then, and that
one
week', but actually not *caring* about all the common sense parts,
because -
you. Want you, love you, miss you, need you. Why wouldn't I want to live
with you, be near you. I just don't want to scare you off, or have you
do
something you're going to regret. Oliver? I love you.
Home time for me - lots of stretching and a long shower.
Love you.
Yours.
T
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Wednesday June 4th 5:06pm
Thomas--
May I call you Tom? Call me Ray. I'm Oliver's father.
I just wanted to drop you a line to say that Oliver speaks very highly
of
you, and while he's had bad judgement in the past, he seems...settled.
Sure. And happier than I've ever seen him.
He loves you very much, young man. I assume he says that often,
but I want
you to know that it's easy to see.
His face when he talks about you...I've never seen my boy so happy.
Take care of him, Tom. And welcome.
Ray
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Wednesday June 4th 6:45pm
Hello, love.
I expect you'll get this in the morning. Hope you slept well.
Talk to you
tonight. :-)
And I'll see you in 15 days.
> I am feeling so much better for that - good solid evening's
climbing, and
> it's like I'm back in my skin properly. Seems to have been one of
those
> gilded evening's - a bunch of people made their next
milestones
> tonight, so the bus back was pretty damn happy.
That sounds wonderful. :-)
> Sunday's trip is sold out - back to the quarry that I didn't get
to go
> on a couple of weeks back - and, they've picked the new treasurer
> for next year, so as soon as I can get all the paperwork for that
together
> I can pass that whole thing over to the new girl. Sam.
That'll be good, yeah? Less stress.
> Trying to summarise everything to James made me realise - the last
> few weeks have just been insane, haven't they?
Yes, they have indeed. Here's to calmer weather ahead for us.
> > Eek. What's up there? Psychos aren't fun.
>
> Apparently things went seriously pear shaped this weekend, with
> one of the girls - Cathy, I think her name is - little bottle-blond
> thing - split up with her boyfriend. Only the boyfriend, smooth as
you
> like, switches his attentions to another girl in the house. Jesus
Christ was
> that a bad idea. Cathy went completely ape, kicked her way into
this other
> girls room and threw herself at the two of them - and because
Becka's
> apparently moved in to The Real Life or something equally
soap-opera-ish,
> of course bloke and new girl - Sasha? I kind of lost track - were
doing the dirty at
> the time ... One of the other girls ended up calling the police to
get them
> split up and out of the house - the landlord took offence to this,
and to the
> broken door and wrecked furniture, and, of course, everyone in the
house has
> had to take sides .... can we say 'atmosphere you can cut with a
knife'?
> Bitch fights at dawn over the toaster, is how Becka put
it. She insisted
> on cooking me a quick dinner as a thanks for the lock-smithing,
and trying to sit
> and eat in their living room with people walking through glaring
at each other - not
> good.
Oh man. That's horrid. Can she move out soonish?
> Whether or not it's related, she thinks someone's been going
through her
> room while she's out - and she's had stuff go missing from her
cupboard
> in the kitchen, and all of them at one point or another have
complained
> about stuff going missing from the washing line, hence the lock,
so at
> least Becka can leave her room safely. The landlord's probably
going to
> have a fit about that too - he's put bolts on the doors for
privacy but nothing
> you can lock when you're not inside - but Becka's as sure as she
can be
> there's no way they'll get the deposit back anyway, thanks to the
mass trashing
> of furniture during The Drama, so she might as well have some
peace of mind.
God, that's awful. Give her a hug for me.
> > > Just going to say this the once - I detest being this
broke. Really
> > > really flipping hate it. And yet I's sticking to budget
and not
> > > getting out any more cash till Friday. Or it will
be worse later. But still.
> > > Hate it. And lack of coffee stinks.
> >
> > *hugs you tight* :-(
> >
> > Um. You know I'll send you some if you need it.
And I know you won't
> > take it, but please--if you need food? For Christ's
sake let me help out.
>
> Um - sorry? I was just letting off steam - it's not that
desperate yet,
> just - too close to the bone for books and vending machine junk,
and I'd
> rather have the book. I mean - there'll be free coffee at home,
> just as soon as my housemates crawl from their pits to buy the
stuff, you
> know? I'm very aware that I don't know where the next
infusion of life
> into the bank accounts going to come, so I'm being really strict
about not
> going over. And you're right - I feel weird enough about letting
you pay for
> our phone calls : your bill must be scary! It's not like
skipping lunch a
> few days is going to reduce me to Ethiopian proportions. And I've
been
> sponge-tastic today and had lunch and tea courtesy of Becka.
The offer still stands, love. You know that.
> > Oh god. I just realized my own...toy is in the
nightstand.
> > And Dad's in there. Alone. All day. With
time to snoop a little bit.
>
> How come the idea of your dad opening the draw, nodding quietly
> and closing it again without a reaction *isn't* what comes to
mind? How
> come you've given up your bed for him? In fact - did he ever
explain why the short
> notice visiting?
Well, he's got the bedroom more or less because he's the guest.
Plus, I
didn't want to disturb him in the mornings when I'm getting ready for
work.
He's not said why the sudden trip, but I think something is on his mind.
Just waiting it out, which is how it goes with him.
And he didn't say anything, but when I got changed after work the lube
was
on the middle of my dresser and there was a piece of paper with a
smiley face
drawn on it. The lube was in the same drawer as the dildo.
My dad is weird.
> > Dad looked at me last night and asked why the hell I wasn't
in London.
>
> What did you say?
That I didn't know.
> > The rest...God, I don't know, lover. All I know is that
I want
> > to be with you. And if you got a job in Manchester I'd
probably follow
> > you there.
>
> Can I remind you again about that 'you blow me away sometimes'
thing? I
> love you. It's a little scary and a lot cool that you'd say that.
Want to be with you, Tom.
> > And if you don't get a job, I'd want you to stay with me
instead of going
> > home--there's a point when pride is ridiculous. Hard to
look for a job in
> > London when you're living at home.
>
> Thank you. I know it probably looks like I'm being totally
> ridiculous, but - I don't want to assume that I could just move in
with
> you and I sure as hell don't expect you to look after me,
and - I guess
> I'm just painfully aware that I guess I don't have so much to
offer at the
> moment, you know?
You don't have *money* to offer. Don't ever confuse that with
having
*something* to offer. You have you, and you are not an
income, any more
than I am.
It would be sort of stupid to maintain two places if I lived in London,
no?
Or is that an assumption on my part?
> > > That said: Please. Come here. Now. And don't leave. I
love you.
> >
> > I love you. I want to come. I...I want to come
right away,
> > just fly over in the morning and sort it out later. Not
practical, but
> > how I feel.
>
> If it was just a matter of us both ending up homeless and broke
I'd say
> screw it, and when's the next flight, but - love. Don't get
> yourself banned from entering the country, 'k? Yes, I am a paranoid
> android sometimes. Just call me Marvin. Um - did I mention
I'd looked at
> immigration stuff, at all?
No, you didn't. Sneak.
> Both ways. Um - a while ago? I can pretend that it was
research
> for my diss, if that makes me sound less - whatever that makes me
sound.
> The parts about skilled migrant workers actually were.
And? Anything pop up that concerned you?
> Just so you have it totally clear in your mind? I love you, and
I'm having
> scarily full on thoughts about not just living in the same country
as you,
> but in the same house, and all the rest of that. And I'm kind of
looking at
> the calendar going 'oh right - just a couple of months, then, and
that one
> week', but actually not *caring* about all the common sense
> parts, because - you. Want you, love you, miss you, need you. Why
wouldn't
> I want to live with you, be near you. I just don't want to scare
you off, or have
> you do something you're going to regret. Oliver? I love you.
I love you. I'll see you in two weeks.
And if we move nearer each other I want everything--living together,
buying
plants, going food shopping together. Us, together.
I love you so much.
Gonna hang with Dad for a bit and get to bed early. I'll talk to
you
tomorrow, and on the phone tomorrow night. Miss you.
Your Oliver.
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Thursday June 5th 9.21am
Morning, my love.
Considering that the guys *still* haven't staggered the 500 yards to the
corner shop to get coffee, I feel I'm making a pretty good attempt at
awake,
moving, and even civil. The email I got this morning plays a
large part in that.
Oliver, love, did you know your dad wrote to me? Check your sent mail.
I'm -
I'm way way chuffed. I mean - for one thing, that's just a really
fantastic
thing to hear - from anyone, and most especially your dad, but - I just
had
one of those moments of realisation. Compare and contrast. Kay's
parents and
me - your dad and me. I love you, and I'm feeling beyond lucky right now.
Because you. Because the choices you made and the life that you've led
and
the person you are means that your dad can write that. and - I love you.
> Talk to you tonight. :-)
Looking forward to that very much.
Um - is your dad still going to be around? Just so I know.
> And I'll see you in 15 days.
See you in a fortnight!
This is me wilfully ignoring the wave of exam-based panic that turned up
right after the Oliver-based glee.
> > they've picked the new treasurer for next year, so as soon as
I can get all the
> > paperwork for that together I can pass that whole thing over
to the new
> > girl. Sam.
>
> That'll be good, yeah? Less stress.
Yup - be good to get that off my plate. Weird, because I did it this
year
and in my second year, but good. One less thing to think about.
> > Trying to summarise everything to James made me realise - the
last
> > few weeks have just been insane, haven't they?
>
> Yes, they have indeed. Here's to calmer weather ahead for us.
I can drink to that. Or I could, if I had any coffee.
> > of course, everyone in the house has had to take sides ....
can we say
> > 'atmosphere you can cut with a knife'? Bitch fights at dawn
over the toaster,
> > is how Becka put it. She insisted on cooking me a
quick dinner as a thanks
> > for the lock-smithing, and trying to sit and eat in their
living room with people
> > walking through glaring at each other - not good.
>
> Oh man. That's horrid. Can she move out soonish?
She's planning on having her dad pick her and her stuff up the day of
her
last exam, basically. Moving back to her parents for the summer, and
then
she starts a teacher training course down in Bristol in September.
She's a
girl with a plan.
> Give her a hug for me.
I will do. I hope you don’t mind that I gave her the outline of the
Peter
thing. - now I'm thinking that might make things really weird if you
finally
meet up, but - well - it was kinda hard not to, given that she was
providing
solace at the time.
> > I'm very aware that I don't know where the next infusion of
life
> > into the bank accounts going to come, so I'm being really
strict
> > about not going over.
> The offer still stands, love. You know that.
Thank you. And if I ever get that desperate, I'll say. The good news is
that
today is the beginning of a shiny new budget week, so it's me to the
supermarket on my way home tonight. And I tactfully reminded the
guys that
if they want dinner tomorrow night, they'd damn well better get
cleaning.
And they're getting something less full out this time.
> > How come the idea of your dad opening the draw, nodding
quietly
> > and closing it again without a reaction *isn't* what comes to
mind? How
> > come you've given up your bed for him? In fact - did he
ever explain why the short
> > notice visiting?
>
> Well, he's got the bedroom more or less because he's the
guest. Plus, I
> didn't want to disturb him in the mornings when I'm getting ready
for work.
> He's not said why the sudden trip, but I think something is on his
mind.
> Just waiting it out, which is how it goes with him.
OK. Hope it's nothing bad at the root of it. Could just bet hat he
wants to
see you, love. God knows I do. For very different reasons.
> And he didn't say anything, but when I got changed after
work the lube was
> on the middle of my dresser and there was a piece of paper with a
smiley face
> drawn on it. The lube was in the same drawer as the dildo.
>
> My dad is weird.
Your dad, apparently, can make me blush at 2000 miles... I think
I'd die if
my parents ever found any evidence that I wasn't actually living a life
of
monastic restraint. Doesn't bear thinking about.
> Want to be with you, Tom.
I love you. Want that too.
> > Thank you. I know it probably looks like I'm being totally
ridiculous, but - I
> > don't want to assume that I could just move in with you
and I sure as
> > hell don't expect you to look after me, and - I guess I'm
just painfully
> > aware that I guess I don't have so much to offer at the
moment, you
> > know?
>
> You don't have *money* to offer. Don't ever confuse that
with having
> *something* to offer. You have you, and you are not an
income, any more
> than I am.
I know that. I really do. It's just - weird. Good weird. Warm
happy weird
that you seem to want to share everything with me, regardless. I'd just
hate
for you to ever feel like I wasn’t pulling my weight, you know?
> It would be sort of stupid to maintain two places if I lived in
London, no?
> Or is that an assumption on my part?
Is that an invitation?
> > Um - did I mention I'd looked at immigration stuff, at all?
>
> No, you didn't. Sneak.
>
> > Both ways. Um - a while ago? I can pretend that it was
research
> > for my diss, if that makes me sound less - whatever that
makes me sound.
> > The parts about skilled migrant workers actually were.
>
> And? Anything pop up that concerned you?
Mostly that it's really flipping complicated. Work permits mostly
have to
be sponsored by an employer - you can't get a 'general' permit, I don’t
think - it's tied to a specific job. And it has to be a job no EU
citizen
could reasonably do. It would be much easier if I was Dutch. Holland
recognises same sex marriages - makes the whole thing so much more
straight
forward. Or we could both move to Canada. And that I really don't
think I'm
going to qualify for a green card any time soon. Takes both governments
two
years of us living together 'as though married' to count as 'a couple'
for immigration purposes - and neither of them see fit to explain how
you're
meant to get that residency without having the visa in the first
place... I
guess either student visas, or skilled worker job-sponsored
ones. The most
useful site from the non-dissertation point of view was
www.stonewall-immigration.org.uk
And I realise as I'm typing this that I maybe sound kinda scary and full
on - tell me I'm not freaking you out?
> I love you. I'll see you in two weeks.
I don't think I said thank you this week - but thank you so much for
swapping trips. I know it's what you want, but it's also about the
thing I
want most in the whole world too, so: thank you. I can't wait to see you
again. I miss you.
> And if we move nearer each other I want everything--living
together,
> buying plants, going food shopping together. Us, together.
>
That sounds glorious, lover. Perfection.
Except - what about the times when it's not - when we're both tired and
ratty and everything goes wrong and London's crowded and inconvenient,
and
full of complete wankers and your car gets broken into, and ...
Hang on a
minute - why am I trying to put you off? We'd deal, right?
The same way we
deal now with things going all kinds of wrong and the distance?
God - I
can't wait for you to be here again. Just want to touch you again. Be
near
you, even.
Love you - so much.
Your T.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Thursday June 5th 7:45am
Love,
> Considering that the guys *still* haven't staggered the 500 yards
to the
> corner shop to get coffee, I feel I'm making a pretty good
> attempt at awake, moving, and even civil. The email I got
this morning
> plays a large part in that.
No coffee yet? That just isn't right. :-)
> Oliver, love, did you know your dad wrote to me? Check your sent
mail.
Uh...no, I didn't. But he certainly did, didn't he?
> I'm - I'm way way chuffed. I mean - for one thing, that's
just a
> really fantastic thing to hear - from anyone, and most especially
your
> dad, but - I just had one of those moments of realisation. Compare
> and contrast. Kay's parents and me - your dad and me. I love you,
> and I'm feeling beyond lucky right now. Because you. Because the
choices
> you made and the life that you've led and the person you are means
that your
> dad can write that. and - I love you.
My dad...he's one of a kind. I really don't know what to say
here, I'm
wearing a big dopey grin. Guess I'll be treating him to a late
supper
tonight, after I talk to you. :-)
> > Talk to you tonight. :-)
>
> Looking forward to that very much.
>
> Um - is your dad still going to be around? Just so I know.
Well, I don't think so. He knows I'm going to call you, knows
that we only
talk once a week. He said something about going downtown for a
bit, looking
into some shops. If worse comes to worse I'll just give him cab
fare and
tell him I'll meet him for supper when I'm done.
> > And I'll see you in 15 days.
>
> See you in a fortnight!
>
> This is me wilfully ignoring the wave of exam-based panic that
turned up
> right after the Oliver-based glee.
It's going to be okay, love. I'm going to make you study.
:-)
> > Oh man. That's horrid. Can she move out soonish?
>
> She's planning on having her dad pick her and her stuff up the day
of her
> last exam, basically. Moving back to her parents for the summer,
and then
> she starts a teacher training course down in Bristol in September.
She's a
> girl with a plan.
Good. :-)
> > Give her a hug for me.
>
> I will do. I hope you don’t mind that I gave her the outline of
the Peter
> thing. - now I'm thinking that might make things really weird if
> you finally meet up, but - well - it was kinda hard not to, given
that she
> was providing solace at the time.
No, I don't mind at all, love. You need to talk this stuff out,
too.
> > And he didn't say anything, but when I got changed
after work the lube
> > was on the middle of my dresser and there was a piece of
paper with a
> > smiley face drawn on it. The lube was in the same
drawer as the dildo.
> >
> > My dad is weird.
>
> Your dad, apparently, can make me blush at 2000 miles...
LOL!
> > You don't have *money* to offer. Don't ever confuse
that with having
> > *something* to offer. You have you, and you are
not an
> > income, any more than I am.
>
> I know that. I really do. It's just - weird. Good weird.
Warm happy weird
> that you seem to want to share everything with me, regardless. I'd
just hate
> for you to ever feel like I wasn’t pulling my weight, you know?
And I know you--the simple fact that you don't want to take advantage
means
that you won't. I don't think you *can*; it's not part of your
personality.
> > It would be sort of stupid to maintain two places if I lived
in London,
> > no? Or is that an assumption on my part?
>
> Is that an invitation?
Yes. If I move to London will you live with me?
> > > Um - did I mention I'd looked at immigration stuff, at
all?
> >
> > And? Anything pop up that concerned you?
>
> Mostly that it's really flipping complicated. Work permits
mostly have to
> be sponsored by an employer - you can't get a 'general' permit, I
don’t
> think - it's tied to a specific job. And it has to be a job no EU
citizen
> could reasonably do. It would be much easier if I was Dutch.
Holland
> recognises same sex marriages - makes the whole thing so much
> more straight forward. Or we could both move to Canada. And
that I really
> don't think I'm going to qualify for a green card any time soon.
Takes
> both governments two years of us living together 'as though
married' to count
> as 'a couple' for immigration purposes - and neither of them see
fit to explain
> how you're meant to get that residency without having the visa in
the
> first place... I guess either student visas, or skilled
worker job-sponsored
> ones. The most useful site from the non-dissertation point
of view was
> www.stonewall-immigration.org.uk
>
> And I realise as I'm typing this that I maybe sound kinda scary
and full
> on - tell me I'm not freaking you out?
You're not freaking me out. :-) So, it looks like a
transfer within KI is
the best option, yeah? Or the easiest, at this point.
> > I love you. I'll see you in two weeks.
>
> I don't think I said thank you this week - but thank you so much
for
> swapping trips. I know it's what you want, but it's also about the
thing I
> want most in the whole world too, so : thank you. I can't wait to
see you
> again. I miss you.
I love you. Swapping was for me as much as for you, lover.
:-)
> > And if we move nearer each other I want everything--living
together,
> > buying plants, going food shopping together. Us,
together.
>
> That sounds glorious, lover. Perfection.
>
> Except - what about the times when it's not - when we're both
tired and
> ratty and everything goes wrong and London's crowded and
inconvenient, and
> full of complete wankers and your car gets broken into, and
... Hang on a
> minute - why am I trying to put you off? We'd deal,
right? The
> same way we deal now with things going all kinds of wrong and the
> distance? God - I can't wait for you to be here again. Just
want to touch
> you again. Be near you, even.
Even the harder parts are good, love. Anything is good, so long
as we're
together. (And I mean that in the spiritually together sense as
well. It's
all good, knowing that you're there for me.)
Love you, so very much.
Talk to you tonight,
Your Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Thursday June 5th 5:45pm
Hey lover,
> > Oliver, love, did you know your dad wrote to me? Check your
sent mail.
>
> Uh...no, I didn't. But he certainly did, didn't he?
>
> My dad...he's one of a kind. I really don't know what to say
here, I'm
> wearing a big dopey grin. Guess I'll be treating him to a
late supper
> tonight, after I talk to you. :-)
I'm about to reply to him - which I guess you'll see seeing as he sent
it
out of your ... he sent it out of your email, which potentially means
he's
read everything else ... I'm not following that thought process one
micro
further, ok?
> Well, I don't think so. He knows I'm going to call you,
knows that we only
> talk once a week. He said something about going downtown for
a bit, looking
> into some shops. If worse comes to worse I'll just give him
cab fare and
> tell him I'll meet him for supper when I'm done.
Looking forward to your voice, love. Good to know we won't have to worry
about eavesdroppers on your end.
> > This is me wilfully ignoring the wave of exam-based panic
that turned
> > up right after the Oliver-based glee.
>
> It's going to be okay, love. I'm going to make you
study. :-)
That sounds ominous. And at the risk of sounding five, I don't want to.
Want
to spend the time with you with you, not my notes.
> And I know you--the simple fact that you don't want to take
advantage
> means that you won't. I don't think you *can*; it's not part
of your
> personality.
Thank you. Means a lot that that's your opinion of me.
> > > It would be sort of stupid to maintain two places if I
lived in
> > > London, no? Or is that an assumption on my part?
> >
> > Is that an invitation?
>
> Yes. If I move to London will you live with me?
Please, yes!
Us, together, would be wonderful.
> You're not freaking me out. :-) So, it looks like a
transfer within KI
> is the best option, yeah? Or the easiest, at this point.
Simple answer : yes. It's not the only way, but it's the most straight
forward if it can be made to happen.
> > I don't think I said thank you this week - but thank you so
much for
> > swapping trips. I know it's what you want, but it's also
about the thing
> > I want most in the whole world too, so : thank you. I can't
wait to see
> > you again. I miss you.
>
> I love you. Swapping was for me as much as for you,
lover. :-)
I know that, but - not like I get nothing out of the arrangement, and
you
bear the brunt of the disruption and stress and all. Want you to know
that I
appreciate what you do, lover.
> Even the harder parts are good, love. Anything is good, so
long as we're
> together. (And I mean that in the spiritually together sense
as well.
> It's all good, knowing that you're there for me.)
I love you. Never realised I could fall so hard, so fast, but - heart
and
soul, Oliver, I love you.
> Talk to you tonight,
Looking forward to it.
I'll head off in a moment to take my shiny new money to the supermarket
and
then back home. Waiting for you to call me. I love you.
Yours,
T.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Thursday June 5th 6:11pm
Ray,
I just wanted to thank you for your note - I'm beyond lucky to have met
your
son. I want very much for him to be happy, and anything that's in my
power
to make him happy, is his. I love him. It's good to hear from
someone who
cares about him too, that that does make him happy. Very good. Thank
you.
Tom.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Friday June 6th 10:45am.
Morning love,
So yes, I did have that lie in this morning - as promised. Hit
the park for
a bit of a ride on my way in too - the photos came this morning!
Um - I already used up my sap quotient for the day, right? Does that
mean I
can't tell you that I found myself a nice deserted chunk of park, with a
good sturdy tree to sit against on this glorious sunny morning and spent
some quality time looking though them and missing you? You're
beautiful,
love. Gorgeous. Delicious. And your note made me blush. I'm not sure I
trust you with a digital camera! It almost certainly means I shouldn't
tell
you that that one of us together? The one that's all off centre because
it's
you with your arm out photographing us both - that I've got that tucked
in
the front of my diary. In addition to the booth pictures that are
already in
my wallet.
I'm guessing that doesn't come as that much of a surprise given that we
investigated the theses 'Tom is a hopeless romantic' in some depth last
night. I love you. You make me fly. And the fact that I'm not freaking
you
out by loving you is a pretty big happy in my life too.
I love you, Oliver.
Yours, love, yours.
T
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Friday 9:36am
Hi love,
Going to reply to both at once. :-)
> So yes, I did have that lie in this morning - as promised.
Hit
> the park for a bit of a ride on my way in too - the photos came
this
> morning!
Good boy. :-) I promise to keep you up just as late next
week.
> Um - I already used up my sap quotient for the day, right? Does
that mean I
> can't tell you that I found myself a nice deserted chunk of park,
with a
> good sturdy tree to sit against on this glorious sunny morning and
spent
> some quality time looking though them and missing you? You're
beautiful,
> love. Gorgeous. Delicious. And your note made me blush. I'm not
sure I trust
> you with a digital camera! It almost certainly means I shouldn't
tell you that that
> one of us together? The one that's all off centre because it's you
with your arm out
> photographing us both - that I've got that tucked in the front of
my diary.
> In addition to the booth pictures that are already in my wallet.
Okay, that's the sap. I have some in my office, some in brief
case, some on
the fridge and of course by my bed. :-)
> I'm guessing that doesn't come as that much of a surprise given
that we
> investigated the theses 'Tom is a hopeless romantic' in some depth
last
> night. I love you. You make me fly. And the fact that I'm not
freaking you
> out by loving you is a pretty big happy in my life too.
No freaking. Glad you're feeling more steady, though. Glad
you know that
loving me is what I need, not the sign that you're slipping into
possessive.
I'm yours. That's all there is to it, and it doesn't panic me.
> I love you, Oliver.
I love you, Tom.
> Yours, love, yours.
Mine. Yours.
> > My dad...he's one of a kind. I really don't know what
to say here, I'm
> > wearing a big dopey grin. Guess I'll be treating him to
a late supper
> > tonight, after I talk to you. :-)
>
> I'm about to reply to him - which I guess you'll see seeing as he
sent it
> out of your ... he sent it out of your email, which potentially
means he's
> read everything else ... I'm not following that thought process
one micro
> further, ok?
He says he didn't read anything, just looked for your addy. I believe
him,
if that helps any. :-)
And I passed your reply on to him. He grinned and told me I have
a good
man. I told him he was right.
> > > This is me wilfully ignoring the wave of exam-based
panic that turned
> > > up right after the Oliver-based glee.
> >
> > It's going to be okay, love. I'm going to make you
study. :-)
>
> That sounds ominous. And at the risk of sounding five, I don't
> want to. Want to spend the time with you with you, not my notes.
I'll rub your shoulders and read out loud to you with your head in my
lap.
Or you can read, and I'll have my head in your lap. Convenient
for taking
breaks, no?
> > Yes. If I move to London will you live with me?
>
> Please, yes!
>
> Us, together, would be wonderful.
There. That wasn't so hard. :-)
> > You're not freaking me out. :-) So, it looks like
a transfer within KI
> > is the best option, yeah? Or the easiest, at this point.
>
> Simple answer : yes. It's not the only way, but it's the most
straight
> forward if it can be made to happen.
I'll look into how the set up is going, how far along the planning is.
> > I love you. Swapping was for me as much as for you,
lover. :-)
>
> I know that, but - not like I get nothing out of the arrangement,
and you
> bear the brunt of the disruption and stress and all. Want you to
> know that I appreciate what you do, lover.
I know it, love. And this way I do less travelling anyway, so
that's good.
:-)
> I love you. Never realised I could fall so hard, so fast, but -
heart and
> soul, Oliver, I love you.
You're my heart. Forever.
Your Oliver.
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Friday June 6th 4:36pm
Hey you,
Damn but it's getting hard to get a computer in here these days!
I guess
everyone has essays due - most inconsiderate of them! Been waiting since
about ten too. Although waiting, and thinking about you, and reading Two
Boys, so not a complete write off. The bad part is where it cuts into
my
writing time a bit, because if I'm going to cook I need to get home
sooner
rather than later. That's the only think with the cheap cut - takes
longer to
turn them into something tasty.
> > So yes, I did have that lie in this morning - as promised.
> Good boy. :-) I promise to keep you up just as late
next week.
Promise? I like the sound of that. I miss you love, and I love
talking with
you.
> > almost certainly means I shouldn't tell you that that one of
us
> > together? The one that's all off centre because it's you with
your arm out
> > photographing us both - that I've got that tucked in the
front of my diary.
> > In addition to the booth pictures that are already in my
wallet.
>
> Okay, that's the sap. I have some in my office, some in
brief case, some
> on the fridge and of course by my bed. :-)
Yes - the bit of wall around my bed is going to get attacked with blue
tac
tonight, landlord be damned.
> No freaking. Glad you're feeling more steady, though.
Glad you know that
> loving me is what I need, not the sign that you're slipping into
possessive.
>
> I'm yours. That's all there is to it, and it doesn't panic
me.
I - love you. I really don't know what else to say here. I love you,
and I
think I needed last night, needed to hear it. And you're way too good at
asking the right questions, Mr super-observant.
> > Yours, love, yours.
>
> Mine. Yours.
Ours. Good.
> > I'm about to reply to him - which I guess you'll see seeing
as he sent it
> > out of your ... he sent it out of your email, which
potentially means he's
> > read everything else ... I'm not following that thought
process one micro
> > further, ok?
>
> He says he didn't read anything, just looked for your addy. I
believe him,
> if that helps any. :-)
It's way more icky for you than me, so if you trust that, I'll take it.
> And I passed your reply on to him. He grinned and told me I
have a good
> man. I told him he was right.
I'm still just blown away by all of this. Just that you talk to him
about me
is a huge deal - everything else is just ... I really did get so very
lucky.
> > That sounds ominous. And at the risk of sounding five, I don't
> > want to. Want to spend the time with you with you, not my
notes.
>
> I'll rub your shoulders and read out loud to you with your head in
my lap.
> Or you can read, and I'll have my head in your lap.
Convenient for taking
> breaks, no?
This is me grinning like a loon. Lots of breaks?
> > > Yes. If I move to London will you live with me?
> >
> > Please, yes!
> >
> > Us, together, would be wonderful.
>
> There. That wasn't so hard. :-)
You're going to tease me about this for a Very Long Time, aren't you?
> > > You're not freaking me out. :-) So, it looks
like a transfer within KI
> > > is the best option, yeah? Or the easiest, at this
point.
> >
> > Simple answer : yes. It's not the only way, but it's the most
straight
> > forward if it can be made to happen.
>
> I'll look into how the set up is going, how far along the planning
is.
This would be me crossing all my fingers and toes. Oliver?
If the job
doesn't work out? We'll find another way, ok?
> I know it, love. And this way I do less travelling anyway,
so that's good.
> :-)
Just wish Boston was being a bit nicer to you now you're there more.
Have
you got any other trips coming up between now and London? Seems
like it's
been a long stretch in the 'home office' - Janet's not making
arrangements
to get you shipped out for old time's sake? Do you miss the short
trips? I
guess I'm curious if they were only ever a necessary evil, or if the
whole
office routine thing is actually as intimidating as I'm starting to
think it
sounds. Mainly I'm being as curious as ever about you,
lover. Send me
little verbal snapshots of your day?
OK - I should head for home - just the lads tonight, so wish me luck.
How's your Friday going? What's the plan for the weekend? You going
touristing with your Dad?
Love you
T.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Friday June 6th 3:30pm
Hey love,
> Damn but it's getting hard to get a computer in here these
days! I guess
> everyone has essays due - most inconsiderate of them! Been waiting
since
> about ten too. Although waiting, and thinking about you, and
reading Two
> Boys, so not a complete write off. The bad part is where it cuts
into my
> writing time a bit, because if I'm going to cook I need to get
home sooner
> rather than later. That's the only think with the cheap cut -
takes longer to
> turn them into something tasty.
Man, sharing computers sucks, but it's so necessary, right? I
should be
glad you have access as it is. :-) Hope tonight's meal goes
well and you
all have fun.
Dad called me a little while ago and wants to go out for supper and then
somewhere for drinks and talking, so I guess I'm going to find out
what's up
with him. It also means that I may or may not be at the computer
to send
you an e-mail later tonight. If it's something earth shattering I
will. If
I'm totally bombed on Dad's money, I might not. :P
> > Good boy. :-) I promise to keep you up just as
late next week.
>
> Promise? I like the sound of that. I miss you love, and I
love
> talking with you.
I promise that next week when we talk I'll keep you up very late indeed.
I'll even go so far as to mean that literally.
> > Okay, that's the sap. I have some in my office, some in
brief
> > case, some on the fridge and of course by my bed. :-)
>
> Yes - the bit of wall around my bed is going to get attacked with
blue tac
> tonight, landlord be damned.
*Big grin* It's cool, isn't it? Seeing smiles and looks and
kisses--the curve
of your jaw and the shadows under your cheekbones when the light was
right.
> > No freaking. Glad you're feeling more steady,
though. Glad
> > you know that loving me is what I need, not the sign that
you're
> > slipping into possessive.
> >
> > I'm yours. That's all there is to it, and it doesn't
panic me.
>
> I - love you. I really don't know what else to say here. I love
you, and I
> think I needed last night, needed to hear it. And you're way too
good at
> asking the right questions, Mr super-observant.
Or you are easy for me to know, my heart.
> > > Yours, love, yours.
> >
> > Mine. Yours.
>
> Ours. Good.
Ours. I like that one best, I think.
> > He says he didn't read anything, just looked for your addy. I
> > believe him, if that helps any. :-)
>
> It's way more icky for you than me, so if you trust that, I'll
take it.
True enough. But at least he's not going to do what Kim did, and
ask about
the shape of your cock. *shudders at the thought of my father even
contemplating such a thing.*
You know....I'm going to print off the sexy ones and delete the
files. Just
so I don't even have to think about anyone running across them.
> > And I passed your reply on to him. He grinned and told
me I have a good
> > man. I told him he was right.
>
> I'm still just blown away by all of this. Just that you talk to
him about
> me is a huge deal - everything else is just ... I really did get
so very lucky.
You told your parents about me. That is just as big a deal for
me. :-)
> > I'll rub your shoulders and read out loud to you with your
head
> > in my lap. Or you can read, and I'll have my head in your lap.
> > Convenient for taking breaks, no?
>
> This is me grinning like a loon. Lots of breaks?
Oh yes. Me nuzzling your balls until you're hard and making you
keep
reading as I undo your trousers and lick you through the cotton of your
pants. Make you read while I play with your cock, slowly pulling
it out.
Make you try to keep going when I lick you, bury my face in you and
start to
suck you off. Make you talk to me, tell me what it feel like when
I take
you deep, love you with my mouth.
Share your flavour with you after you come for me.
And then you can study again, until the next time.
> > > > Yes. If I move to London will you live with
me?
> > >
> > > Please, yes!
> > >
> > > Us, together, would be wonderful.
> >
> > There. That wasn't so hard. :-)
>
> You're going to tease me about this for a Very Long Time, aren't
you?
Years.
> > > > You're not freaking me out. :-) So, it
looks like a
> > > > transfer within KI is the best option, yeah?
Or the easiest, at
> > > > this point.
> > >
> > > Simple answer : yes. It's not the only way, but it's the
most straight
> > > forward if it can be made to happen.
> >
> > I'll look into how the set up is going, how far along the
planning is.
>
> This would be me crossing all my fingers and toes.
Oliver? If the job
> doesn't work out? We'll find another way, ok?
Yes. We will. Need to be with you, Tom.
> > I know it, love. And this way I do less travelling
anyway, so that's
> > good. :-)
>
> Just wish Boston was being a bit nicer to you now you're there
more. Have
> you got any other trips coming up between now and London?
Seems like it's
> been a long stretch in the 'home office' - Janet's not making
arrangements
> to get you shipped out for old time's sake? Do you miss the
short trips? I
> guess I'm curious if they were only ever a necessary evil, or if
the whole
> office routine thing is actually as intimidating as I'm starting
to think it
> sounds. Mainly I'm being as curious as ever about you,
lover. Send me
> little verbal snapshots of your day?
Well, when I took on all the London trips I was put at the end of the
list
for anything else, so if all goes well I won't be doing anything until
September when the schools all go back in. But it's always
possible--I mean
if someone gets sick, or wants to trade or whatever. Not that
I'll do
trades, but I've been kind of thinking that I'd pick up one or two extra
trips--there's a little more money involved, and to be honest, the
office
stuff, while interesting 'cause we're developing ideas and teams and
stuff--it isn't as exciting to me as the hands on.
Janet likes me in the office--there's less chance of me making her job
harder if she's there to tell me what to do than if I'm away and making
stuff up on the fly. :P She manages me quite well. LOL
> OK - I should head for home - just the lads tonight, so wish me
luck.
Good luck, baby. Love you so much.
> How's your Friday going? What's the plan for the weekend? You going
> touristing with your Dad?
As I said above, off to do talking things. Hope to get another
e-mail off
to you before I go to bed.
Love you,
Your Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Saturday June 7th 10:49am.
Morning, my love.
So - good time was had by all last night? I'm hoping that was
'happily
drunk with dad' and not bad-news drunk with dad is all.
> Man, sharing computers sucks, but it's so necessary, right?
I should be
> glad you have access as it is. :-) Hope tonight's meal
goes well and you
> all have fun.
The not having a computer at home pretty much sucks, yes, but the having
access to email with you all the time is a good thing - and good things
come
to those who wait.
Dinner last night was ok, but not really an occasion - Mike's off for
the
weekend with his girl, so it was just me and Ian, seeing as it all
ended up
a bit last minute, so Becka was off out elsewhere. Running away from her
place for the weekend to a mate who's at UCL, I think. Still - I make
decent
curry, and there's leftovers enough for later. Ended up having an actual
proper conversation with Ian. Yes I know I've lived with him for 8
months,
but I think this is about the first time we've ever sat down just the
two of
us. Started of with politics, ended up at porn, and how the porn
industry
drives technology. He was heading out to the pub after, so I skipped on
the
ritual movie watching and curled up with a book. Rock and roll.
Got about half way through At Swim - it's strange. Took me a while to
get
into the story, into the language more, with the dialect and
everything, and
then it was just ... I guess it's almost like learning to swim -
you
suddenly realise that you're doing it and it's fun. Definitely
more fun
than the flipping Scarlet Letter. It's weird reading a novel where I
know so
little about the context. I know bugger all about Irish history, I've
discovered. How are you finding it? It's kind of playing around with my
sympathies a lot - Mr Mack comes out of the first few chapters looking
like a mean fool, and then - he's actually not.
Got up early this morning to go for a ride first thing. It's getting
kinda
hot for long runs mid day. Did you think any more about riding to work?
> Dad called me a little while ago and wants to go out for supper
and then
> somewhere for drinks and talking, so I guess I'm going to find out
what's
> up with him.
Good news / bad news / random drunk stories?
> I promise that next week when we talk I'll keep you up very late
indeed.
> I'll even go so far as to mean that literally.
This is me purring somewhere inside. I like your promises.
> *Big grin* It's cool, isn't it? Seeing smiles and
looks and kisses--the
> curve of your jaw and the shadows under your cheekbones when the
light was
> right.
I feel like a romantic idiot, but yes - wonderful to go to sleep seeing
you
on the outside of my eyelids as well.
> Ours. I like that one best, I think.
Definitely a romantic idiot. Love you.
> True enough. But at least he's not going to do what Kim did,
and ask about
> the shape of your cock. *shudders at the thought of my
father even
> contemplating such a thing.*
Thank you for sharing that truly horrific idea with me!
> You know....I'm going to print off the sexy ones and delete the
files. Just
> so I don't even have to think about anyone running across them.
I know I plan on printing them out - all of them - before I lose this
email
account. (See point about me being a romantic fool) - your
letters are
important to me, love.
> > I'm still just blown away by all of this. Just that you talk
to
> > him about me is a huge deal - everything else is just ... I
really did
> > get so very lucky.
>
> You told your parents about me. That is just as big a deal
for me. :-)
My parents are - dealing. Well, even, but your dad's something else.
> > > I'll rub your shoulders and read out loud to you with
your head
> > > in my lap. Or you can read, and I'll have my head in
your lap.
> > > Convenient for taking breaks, no?
> >
> > This is me grinning like a loon. Lots of breaks?
>
> Oh yes. Me nuzzling your balls until you're hard and making
you keep
> reading as I undo your trousers and lick you through the cotton of
your
> pants. Make you read while I play with your cock, slowly
pulling it out.
> Make you try to keep going when I lick you, bury my face in you
and start
> to suck you off. Make you talk to me, tell me what it feel
like when I take
> you deep, love you with my mouth.
>
> Share your flavour with you after you come for me.
>
> And then you can study again, until the next time.
Need a blood supply to my brain to study - and I damn near typed
'swallow'
then ...
Make me hard, you do, with your words and your hands and your
eyes and your
body. Make me ache.
> > Just wish Boston was being a bit nicer to you now you're
there more.
> > Have you got any other trips coming up between now and
London?
> > Seems like it's been a long stretch in the 'home office' -
Janet's not
> > making arrangements to get you shipped out for old time's
sake? Do
> > you miss the short trips? I guess I'm curious if they were
only ever a
> > necessary evil, or if the whole office routine thing is
actually as intimidating
> > as I'm starting to think it sounds. Mainly I'm
being as curious as ever
> > about you, lover. Send me little verbal snapshots of your day?
>
> Well, when I took on all the London trips I was put at the end of
the list
> for anything else, so if all goes well I won't be doing anything
until
> September when the schools all go back in. But it's always
possible--I
> mean if someone gets sick, or wants to trade or whatever.
Not that I'll do
> trades, but I've been kind of thinking that I'd pick up one or two
extra
> trips--there's a little more money involved, and to be honest, the
office
> stuff, while interesting 'cause we're developing ideas and teams
and
> stuff--it isn't as exciting to me as the hands on.
I shall have to make sure you don’t get too bored, alone at your desk
all
day. See if I can come up with some hands on practise for you ...
I don't believe I just wrote anything that corny!
Hey look! A distraction!
Ahem.
I should probably get going - I'm headed into town to find a birthday
card
for my gran, and some kind of gran-appropriate postable present that I
can
squeeze into a post-box, because I utterly forgot that it's her
birthday on
Monday. I'm pretty sure an afternoon of dealing with such things
entitles me
to finish reading the Scarlet Letter - with accompanying notes by Thomas
Moreland - in the park with a nice cold drink and some ice-cream
though, and
then back to campus to check mail later.
Love you. Miss you. Hope that the morning is good to you.
Your Tom
Who just thought about morning goodness in the form of waking you up
with a
blow job, and then fresh coffee and cream with us all wrapped around
each
other, and then showering with you, running my fingers over every part
of
you. Love you so much sexy-man. Want you. Miss you.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Sunday June 8th 00:38am
Oops. Sorry its late, Oliver love.
Um, I may have run intoSebs in the park and tagged along with him and
his
mates for dinner. Or beer and kebabs. Which is technically dinner.
Technically.
Was definitely good beer. Posh place And he kept buying, so I think I
might be a bit
buzzed. He says hi. Actually he said to say hi and for you to be sure to
look after me, but that's very weird thing to carry messages from your
ex. I
love you. Apparently it would be obvious to a half-blind penguin that I
love
you. Guess the sap shows, right? Was good though, to be able to talk
about
us with someone who gets it. Really gets it. Nice to get hugs and
automatic
support about the bad bits, and more hugs and congratulations about the
good
bits, and you should have seen him getting all outraged about my
boyfriend's
ex having a problem with our relationship. Sort of murderous imp
brandishing
a cocktail. He's right though - you make me happy, and if I make you
half as
happy... Love you. Much.
> Anyway, the thing is, he's thinking about going back to Peru for a
> bit--there's a mission there that is nice and relaxed, and sort of
his kind
> of thing--almost a commune, not really religious,
just..nice. And he wants
> to get rid of all his worldly possessions first.
Woah - that's a fairly major life change there.
> Big flashing red light for me. He did this once before and
had to start
> over.
Or not if he's done it before, I guess.
> He wants me to take care of his guitar and a few other things.
> Which is good, you know? The stuff that matters to him.
That is sweet. So you're still home wherever you end up? What's
happened to
his new woman in all this?
> Better, he tried to give me all his money. Eventually we
decided to go to
> the bank on Monday and open a joint account, use his money to buy
bonds
> and just leave it there. That way he feels like it's there
if I need it, and I
> know it's going to be there when he comes back.
Anyone ever tell you your a smart cookie? Also you taste good, but not
of
cookies.
> It is definitely a good thing. :-)
You're a good thing, sexy man. A too good to be true thing, only it is
true.
> He didn't get weird at all talking about porn with you, even in
the
> general technology way?
All very very general. Not to weird for either of us. Ewww. Don't want
to
think about girly stuff..
> *Oliver saves everything to disk and makes plans to print a
matching set.
> We can keep them together. In our new place.*
Love you so much. Sap.
> > Make me hard, you do, with your words and your hands
and your
> > eyes and your body. Make me ache.
>
> Like making you hard. Like thinking about you, hard and
wanting, when your
> eyes get wide and your mouth is red and kiss swollen, and your
cock is
> filling me so well.
>
> God, I'm gonna have to go take a shower and jerk off now.
God, Oliver, I'm somewhere more than half pissed and you can still get
me
desperate with just your words, the idea of you.
> God, you're adorable. I want you, Tom. Right now. Want
to feel you, kiss
> you. love you. Want to taste your kisses.
Miss you sexy.
Miss you, love you, want you, need you.
Spent the whole evening talking about you. Going to go home and dream
about
you. Love you, Oliver. My Oliver, my love.
Your Tom
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Saturday, 10:35pm
> Oops. Sorry its late, Oliver love.
There you are!
> Um, I may have run into Sebs in the park and tagged along with him
and his mates
> for dinner. Or beer and kebabs. Which is technically dinner.
Technically.
> Was definitely good beer.
LOL! You sound happy. :-)
> Posh place. And he kept buying, so I think I might be a bit
> buzzed. He says hi. Actually he said to say hi and for you to be
sure to
> look after me, but that's very weird thing to carry messages from
> your ex.
Wow. And *blink*
> I love you.
Hee. I love you back.
> Apparently it would be obvious to a half-blind penguin that
I love
> you. Guess the sap shows, right? Was good though, to be able to
talk about
> us with someone who gets it. Really gets it. Nice to get hugs and
> automatic support about the bad bits, and more hugs and
congratulations
> about the good bits, and you should have seen him getting all
outraged
> about my boyfriend's ex having a problem with our relationship.
Sort of
> murderous imp brandishing a cocktail. He's right though - you make
me happy,
> and if I make you half as happy... Love you. Much.
Wow, that sounds... really great, love. :-) He sounds
cool. :-)
> > Anyway, the thing is, he's thinking about going back to Peru
for a
> > bit--there's a mission there that is nice and relaxed, and
sort of his
> > kind of thing--almost a commune, not really religious,
just..nice. And he
> > wants to get rid of all his worldly possessions first.
>
> Woah - that's a fairly major life change there.
>
> > Big flashing red light for me. He did this once before
and had to start
> > over.
>
> Or not if he's done it before, I guess.
Heee! My dad--surprising, but predictably so.
> > He wants me to take care of his guitar and a few other
> > things. Which is good, you know? The stuff that matters
to him.
>
> That is sweet. So you're still home wherever you end up? What's
> happened to his new woman in all this?
I have *no* idea. He hasn't said, and I hesitate to ask.
> > Better, he tried to give me all his money. Eventually we
> > decided to go to the bank on Monday and open a joint account,
> > use his money to buy bonds and just leave it there.
That way
> > he feels like it's there if I need it, and I know it's going
to be there
> > when he comes back.
>
> Anyone ever tell you your a smart cookie? Also you taste good, but
not of
> cookies.
:D So, Tom. What do I taste like?
> > It is definitely a good thing. :-)
>
> You're a good thing, sexy man. A too good to be true thing, only
> it is true.
It is indeed, lover. True and right, and all yours. Well,
mine too. Ours.
> > He didn't get weird at all talking about porn with
> > you, even in the general technology way?
>
> All very very general. Not to weird for either of us. Ewww. Don't
want to
> think about girly stuff..
LOL! At least you've kissed girls. You have cooties.
I'll have to treat
you for that.
> > > Make me hard, you do, with your words and your
hands and your
> > > eyes and your body. Make me ache.
> >
> > Like making you hard. Like thinking about you, hard and
wanting, when
> > your eyes get wide and your mouth is red and kiss swollen,
and your cock
> > is filling me so well.
> >
> > God, I'm gonna have to go take a shower and jerk off now.
>
> God, Oliver, I'm somewhere more than half pissed and you can still
get me
> desperate with just your words, the idea of you.
Good to know, love. :-) And you get me hard even when
you're more than
half pissed. We're even.
> > God, you're adorable. I want you, Tom. Right now.
Want to
> > feel you, kiss you. love you. Want to taste your kisses.
>
> Miss you sexy.
>
> Miss you, love you, want you, need you.
>
> Spent the whole evening talking about you. Going to go home and
> dream about you. Love you, Oliver. My Oliver, my love.
You? Are adorable. Love you so much. Glad you had a
reasonable evening,
glad you could talk to someone about all my drama--glad you found
someone
who would listen to it all and not try to talk you out of feeling the
way
you do.
Tomorrow is bike riding day and tourist stuff. I'll be around
love--and I
might need you to talk me through cooking a roast beef. :-)
Love you so.
Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Sunday June 8th 2:48pm
This is me wincing and hung over and yes it really has taken me this
long to
brave walking gingerly down here, and the fans are way too loud.
Paracetemol
and water - my two new best friends. Whatever the hell Sebs put in those
cocktails, I am never drinking again. Ditto Mike's cheap nasty vermouth.
Which was after I got home. It seemed like the thing to do - join in
with
Ian' mini party, seeing as they weren’t going to go away. And Mike was
stupid
enough to leave booze in our kitchen where Ian could find it.
> LOL! You sound happy. :-)
Appropriately miserable now, love. Sorry?
> > Posh place. And he kept buying, so I think I might be a bit
> > buzzed. He says hi. Actually he said to say hi and for you to
be sure to
> > look after me, but that's very weird thing to carry messages
from
> > your ex.
>
> Wow. And *blink*
Yeah - much with the oddness. Especially now I think about it. Although
he
was always the civilised well adjusted kind. I guess maybe you're
everything
he couldn't give me - with the long term-ness and the whole falling in
love
thing. I suspect I was maudlin and revoltingly sappy talking about you -
remove all my inhibitions and we're down to I love you with my whole
heart
and I miss you a lot...
> > I love you.
>
> Hee. I love you back.
See. Knew there were excellent reasons for it.
> > That is sweet. So you're still home wherever you end up?
What's
> > happened to his new woman in all this?
>
> I have *no* idea. He hasn't said, and I hesitate to ask.
Fair enough.
> > Anyone ever tell you your a smart cookie? Also you taste
good, but not of
> > cookies.
>
> :D So, Tom. What do I taste like?
I was really drunk, wasn't I? And for the record you taste sweet and
salty and
really really distractingly wonderful.
> > You're a good thing, sexy man. A too good to be true thing,
only
> > it is true.
>
> It is indeed, lover. True and right, and all yours.
Well, mine too. Ours.
Love you. So much.
> LOL! At least you've kissed girls. You have
cooties. I'll have to treat
> you for that.
What's the treatment Dr Oliver? Lots of you-kisses?
> > Spent the whole evening talking about you. Going to go home
and
> > dream about you. Love you, Oliver. My Oliver, my love.
>
> You? Are adorable. Love you so much. Glad you
had a reasonable evening,
> glad you could talk to someone about all my drama--glad you found
someone
> who would listen to it all and not try to talk you out of feeling
the way you do.
Sebs is a closet romantic - that's actually the only reason I can think
why
he'd postpone heading up to Vauxhall clubbing to hang around and ply me
with
drinks till closing time, and let me go on and on and on about you, and
us.
I kinda hope he ends up this happy - hell, is this happy. He's working
in
advertising - man's a walking cliché sometimes - and throwing
poses still :
'one plays the field Thomas, one plays the field', but - if it makes him
happy. Was good to see him. Just, if there's a next time I'm sticking to
beer only, because cocktails equal ouch. Big ouch.
> Tomorrow is bike riding day and tourist stuff. I'll be
around love--and I
> might need you to talk me through cooking a roast beef. :-)
Does that mean I get to play virtual tourist? Where'd you go?
Hope you're having fun, Oliver love.
And I know I don't deserve sympathy, but - imagine a small pathetic
whimper
here. It's bright out there. And loud. Think I'm going to stay slumped
here
for a while with a large bottle of water and pretend to read my notes,
and
think some more about how you taste.
Love you.
T
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Sunday June 8th 4:22 pm
Love,
> This is me wincing and hung over and yes it really has taken me
> this long to brave walking gingerly down here, and the fans are
> way too loud.
Pet pet.
You really aren't a big drinker, are you, love?
> Paracetemol and water - my two new best friends. Whatever the hell
Sebs
> put in those cocktails, I am never drinking again. Ditto Mike's
cheap nasty vermouth.
> Which was after I got home. It seemed like the thing to do - join
in with
> Ian' mini party, seeing as they weren’t going to go away. And Mike
> was stupid enough to leave booze in our kitchen where Ian could
find it.
Oh dear, you really aren't. But! Completely adorable
when in your cups.
> > LOL! You sound happy. :-)
>
> Appropriately miserable now, love. Sorry?
Don't be sorry on my account. :-) I thought it was
cute. Sorry you feel
like crap now, though.
> > > Posh place. And he kept buying, so I think I might be a
bit
> > > buzzed. He says hi. Actually he said to say hi and for
you to
> > > be sure to look after me, but that's very weird thing to
carry
> > > messages from your ex.
> >
> > Wow. And *blink*
>
> Yeah - much with the oddness. Especially now I think about it.
Although he
> was always the civilised well adjusted kind. I guess maybe you're
> everything he couldn't give me - with the long term-ness and the
whole
> falling in love thing. I suspect I was maudlin and revoltingly
sappy
> talking about you - remove all my inhibitions and we're down to I
love
> you with my whole heart and I miss you a lot...
I think the whole thing is just going to make me smile a lot. :-)
And I love you. Miss you more than anyone else can understand.
> > > Anyone ever tell you your a smart cookie? Also you taste
good, but not
> > > of cookies.
> >
> > :D So, Tom. What do I taste like?
>
> I was really drunk, wasn't I? And for the record you taste sweet
and salty
> and really really distractingly wonderful.
Purrr and Mmmmm.
> > LOL! At least you've kissed girls. You have
cooties. I'll
> > have to treat you for that.
>
> What's the treatment Dr Oliver? Lots of you-kisses?
No, I'm afraid that girl cooties need stronger medicine than simple
kisses.
They are tough to get rid of, treatment may be quite vigorous.
> Sebs is a closet romantic - that's actually the only reason I can
> think why he'd postpone heading up to Vauxhall clubbing to hang
around and
> ply me with drinks till closing time, and let me go on and on and
on about
> you, and us.
Uh, you do know there are other reasons men will ply you with drinks,
right?
Just checking.
> I kinda hope he ends up this happy - hell, is this happy. He's
working in
> advertising - man's a walking cliché sometimes - and
throwing
> poses still: 'one plays the field Thomas, one plays the field',
but - if
> it makes him happy. Was good to see him. Just, if there's a next
time
> I'm sticking to beer only, because cocktails equal ouch. Big
ouch.
/me pets your brain again. Drink lots of water, my love.
> > Tomorrow is bike riding day and tourist stuff. I'll be
around
> > love--and I might need you to talk me through cooking a roast
beef. :-)
>
> Does that mean I get to play virtual tourist? Where'd you go?
Well, I took a long ride this morning--did the trip to work to time it,
and
then doubled the time to account for traffic, then did a bit of a tour
just
'cause it was a nice day. Road, a few bike paths, stopped on the
way to get
fresh fruit and bread for brunch. Dad and I ate and decided to go
with the
'no plan at all' method of seeing things. Which meant that we
drove to a
parking garage in the city and left the car, and walked wherever we felt
like it. We skipped the museums and stuff, 'cause we've both been
to most
of them and didn't know what the special exhibits were. So we
went to some
neat little shops, stopped once or twice in cafes for tea, and Dad had a
long long conversation with a busker about his guitar and where they'd
both
travelled.
Mostly we just walked and talked about stuff.
Turns out that his lady friend wasn't so keen on dad giving away his
stuff,
and tried to make sure he put the cash in her hands. He was going
to, but
he just got a funny feeling--I mean, it's probably natural that she
didn't
like him giving away all his stuff, I don't like it either. So he
said he
was going to see me, and that as a compromise he wouldn't give
everything
away like he did before.
And she really started to insist she take the money. He made some
calls to
someone--I think a friend of hers, though that part was confusing, and
found
out she was pretty grasping about money in other cases. So he
told her a
flat no, the money was for me, and she walked.
He seemed okay with it--better to know now, and all that.
Personally, I
don't know if it was because she wanted the money, or because she
thinks my
father's making a big mistake--which I can see people thinking.
So I'm just
kinda, okay with it, I guess. I mean, he's not broken hearted,
and that
says a lot too.
/me pets your hangover brain.
Off to start dinner! I'll let you know if the firemen are
cute.
your Oliver, always.
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Monday June 9th 9:48am
Morning you,
> Pet pet.
Mmmmmm,. I like the petting. More of that please!
> You really aren't a big drinker, are you, love?
Really really not. I told you I was a pathetic excuse for a student. A
few
beers or a couple of glasses of wine, and that's about it.
> Oh dear, you really aren't. But! Completely
adorable when in your cups.
Um - thank you? I think I am, at least, a relatively happy -
sappy drunk.
It's just I get to the feeling sick part way too quickly.
> Don't be sorry on my account. :-) I thought it was
cute. Sorry you feel
> like crap now, though.
Better this morning. Better last night after I managed to persuade
myself to
make soup and eat it and vegged out in front of the TV all evening. I
got
nothing done, but I felt a whole lot better for it. Did laundry and
housework in dribs and drabs, in between watching complete dren of TV
and
wishing Mike would hurry up and get home and give me my first season
Farscape
videos back. I'm thinking they're somewhere in his room, but I'm so
never
going to set foot in there!
> > Yeah - much with the oddness. Especially now I think about
it. Although he
> > was always the civilised well adjusted kind. I guess maybe
you're
> > everything he couldn't give me - with the long term-ness and
the whole
> > falling in love thing. I suspect I was maudlin and
revoltingly sappy
> > talking about you - remove all my inhibitions and we're down
to I love
> > you with my whole heart and I miss you a lot...
>
> I think the whole thing is just going to make me smile a
lot. :-)
That's good. I love that I can make you smile.
> And I love you. Miss you more than anyone else can
understand.
Yes, and yes. Both.
> > I was really drunk, wasn't I? And for the record you taste
sweet and
> > salt and really really distractingly wonderful.
>
> Purrr and Mmmmm.
Indeed.
> > > LOL! At least you've kissed girls. You have
cooties. I'll
> > > have to treat you for that.
> >
> > What's the treatment Dr Oliver? Lots of you-kisses?
>
> No, I'm afraid that girl cooties need stronger medicine than simple
> kisses. They are tough to get rid of, treatment may be quite
vigorous.
Ohh - do tell.
> > Sebs is a closet romantic - that's actually the only reason I
can
> > think why he'd postpone heading up to Vauxhall clubbing to
hang
> > around and ply me with drinks till closing time, and let me
go on
> > and on and on about you, and us.
>
> Uh, you do know there are other reasons men will ply you with
drinks,
> right? Just checking.
That's actually a seduction technique that no one has ever used on me -
I'm
guessing I don't really look the type or something. Um - that is what
you
meant right? I'm no longer hung over, but it is still Monday
morning.
> /me pets your brain again. Drink lots of water, my love.
If I say my brain thought about purring would that make me a freak?
> Well, I took a long ride this morning--did the trip to work to
time it,
> and then doubled the time to account for traffic, then did a bit
of a tour
> just 'cause it was a nice day. Road, a few bike paths,
stopped on the way to
> get fresh fruit and bread for brunch. Dad and I ate and
decided to go with
> the 'no plan at all' method of seeing things. Which meant
that we drove to a
> parking garage in the city and left the car, and walked wherever
we felt
> like it. We skipped the museums and stuff, 'cause we've both
been to most
> of them and didn't know what the special exhibits were. So
we went to some
> neat little shops, stopped once or twice in cafes for tea, and Dad
had a
> long long conversation with a busker about his guitar and where
they'd both
> travelled.
That all sounds utterly blissful. It's very cool how you and your dad
get along -
like you're friends as well as father and son.
> Mostly we just walked and talked about stuff.
See.
> Turns out that his lady friend wasn't so keen on dad giving away
his stuff,
> and tried to make sure he put the cash in her hands. He was
going to, but
> he just got a funny feeling--I mean, it's probably natural that
she didn't
> like him giving away all his stuff, I don't like it either.
So he said he
> was going to see me, and that as a compromise he wouldn't give
everything
> away like he did before.
Which is where, if it was really his well being she was thinking of,
she'd
back off, right?
> And she really started to insist she take the money. He made
some calls to
> someone--I think a friend of hers, though that part was confusing,
and found
> out she was pretty grasping about money in other cases. So
he told her a
> flat no, the money was for me, and she walked.
Ouch. Although better before than after.
> He seemed okay with it--better to know now, and all that.
Personally, I
> don't know if it was because she wanted the money, or because she
thinks my
> father's making a big mistake--which I can see people
thinking. So I'm just
> kinda, okay with it, I guess. I mean, he's not broken
hearted, and that
> says a lot too.
Well - yeah.
> /me pets your hangover brain.
Brain still thinking about purring. I'm probably a freak.
> Off to start dinner! I'll let you know if the firemen
are cute.
How'd it go then, lover mine? I'm all ears. And need for coffee.
And due to
be meeting Dan for a politics study session.
Love you.
Catch you later.
Your Tom, yours.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent Monday June 9th 8:45 am
Morning love,
> > Pet pet.
>
> Mmmmmm,. I like the petting. More of that please!
Pet pet *stroke* *fondle* *stroke* My, what a
lovely cock you have, my
dear.
Heh. Sorry, had to. I miss you. Want you. Need
you. Dreamed about you.
REALLY want you.
> > Oh dear, you really aren't. But! Completely
adorable when in
> > your cups.
>
> Um - thank you? I think I am, at least, a relatively happy -
sappy drunk.
> It's just I get to the feeling sick part way too quickly.
*grin* The feeling sick part is yuck, but the rest was really
cute. I bet
you snuggle when you've had a little too much, yeah?
> Better this morning. Better last night after I managed to persuade
> myself to make soup and eat it and vegged out in front of the TV
> all evening. I got nothing done, but I felt a whole lot better for
it.
> Did laundry and housework in dribs and drabs, in between watching
> complete dren of TV and wishing Mike would hurry up and get home
> and give me my first season Farscape videos back. I'm thinking
they're
> somewhere in his room, but I'm so never going to set foot in there!
:-) Sounds good, love. Glad you got some downtime.
> > I think the whole thing is just going to make me smile a
lot. :-)
>
> That's good. I love that I can make you smile.
You always make me smile. :-)
> > > > LOL! At least you've kissed girls. You
have cooties. I'll
> > > > have to treat you for that.
> > >
> > > What's the treatment Dr Oliver? Lots of you-kisses?
> >
> > No, I'm afraid that girl cooties need stronger medicine than
simple
> > kisses. They are tough to get rid of, treatment may be quite
vigorous.
>
> Ohh - do tell.
It will involve a great deal of kissing, groping, mutual gasping, and a
little begging. Then your mouth on me, possibly more than once, though
I'm
willing to let you take a break so I can make love to you in the shower.
> > Uh, you do know there are other reasons men will ply you with
drinks,
> > right? Just checking.
>
> That's actually a seduction technique that no one has ever used
> on me - I'm guessing I don't really look the type or something. Um
- that
> is what you meant right? I'm no longer hung over, but it is
still Monday morning.
Yes, that is what I meant, and I would so get you drunk so I could hit
on
you. Swear it.
> > /me pets your brain again. Drink lots of water, my love.
>
> If I say my brain thought about purring would that make me a freak?
No. Funny, but not a freak.
Pet pet *stroke* *fondle* *stroke* My, what a
lovely cock you have, my
dear. Had to do it again. :P
> > We skipped the museums and stuff, 'cause we've both been to
most
> > of them and didn't know what the special exhibits were.
So we went to
> > some neat little shops, stopped once or twice in cafes for
tea, and Dad had a
> > long long conversation with a busker about his guitar and
where they'd
> > both travelled.
>
> That all sounds utterly blissful. It's very cool how you and your
dad get
> alone - like your friends as well as father and son.
>
> > Mostly we just walked and talked about stuff.
>
> See.
:D It's pretty cool. But if he's here much longer?
I'll be tossing him
out. Er..have tossing on the brain. Want my bed back, want
to not worry
about making noise. ;-)
> > Turns out that his lady friend wasn't so keen on dad giving
away his
> > stuff, and tried to make sure he put the cash in her
hands. He was going to,
> > but he just got a funny feeling--I mean, it's probably
natural that she didn't
> > like him giving away all his stuff, I don't like it
either. So he said he
> > was going to see me, and that as a compromise he wouldn't
give everything
> > away like he did before.
>
> Which is where, if it was really his well being she was thinking
of, she'd
> back off, right?
Right. Exactly.
But it seems okay, really.
> > /me pets your hangover brain.
>
> Brain still thinking about purring. I'm probably a freak.
Pet pet. *stroke* you know the rest...
> > Off to start dinner! I'll let you know if the
firemen are cute.
>
> How'd it go then, lover mine? I'm all ears. And need for
coffee.
> And due to be meeting Dan for a politics study session.
Roast was good--pink in the middle, dark on the outside, lots for both
of
us. Made too many potatoes, so the left overs will be fried up tonight.
Carrots and beans were steamed, corn was lovely, and we had far too
much ice
cream afterwards.
Best part?
He did the dishes.
:D
Off to work, my love. Talk to you later
Love you, forever.
Oliver
To: Oliver Kurland
From: Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Monday June 9th 1:48pm
Hey beautiful,
You know that 'if you teach it to someone else you'll learn it better
yourself' thing? I think it works. Why yes, I am feeling kinda
pleased with
myself. So would you be if you'd just rattled through the processes of
appointment to the supreme court and if it can be politically
controlled,
with dates and examples and cases, and no notes. Just for a few minutes
I'm
gong to conclude that I rule. Explaining it all to Dan just had it go
click.
For both of us I think. Go random study session!
> > > Pet pet.
> >
> > Mmmmmm,. I like the petting. More of that please!
>
> Pet pet *stroke* *fondle* *stroke* My,
what a lovely cock you have, my
> dear.
All the better to fill you with, my love.
> Heh. Sorry, had to. I miss you. Want you.
Need you. Dreamed about
> you. REALLY want you.
Good dreams, lover?
> > > Oh dear, you really aren't. But!
Completely adorable when in
> > > your cups.
> >
> > Um - thank you? I think I am, at least, a relatively
happy - sappy drunk.
> > It's just I get to the feeling sick part way too quickly.
>
> *grin* The feeling sick part is yuck, but the rest was
really cute. I bet
> you snuggle when you've had a little too much, yeah?
Kay said grabby and clingy. So I think that's maybe a yes. Wanna find
out?
> > > I think the whole thing is just going to make me smile a
lot. :-)
> >
> > That's good. I love that I can make you smile.
>
> You always make me smile. :-)
You mean like you are right now? You think this is getting silly
yet?
> > > No, I'm afraid that girl cooties need stronger medicine
than simple
> > > kisses. They are tough to get rid of, treatment may be
quite vigorous.
> >
> > Ohh - do tell.
>
> It will involve a great deal of kissing, groping, mutual gasping,
and a
> little begging. Then your mouth on me, possibly more than once,
though I'm
> willing to let you take a break so I can make love to you in the
shower.
I think I need to be committed to your specialist care ASAP.
Although you
can make me beg from all the way over there and you know it, lover.
> Yes, that is what I meant, and I would so get you drunk so I could
hit on
> you. Swear it.
You don't need beer-goggles to look delicious, sexy man. Just
sayin'
> Pet pet *stroke* *fondle* *stroke* My,
what a lovely cock you have, my
> dear. Had to do it again. :P
I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow you till you scream. Oh - I'm
sorry -
wrong fairy story ...
Not that sorry. Love the way you feel in my mouth, the way you taste,
everything about you, so consider that a promise.
> :D It's pretty cool. But if he's here much
longer? I'll be tossing him
> out. Er..have tossing on the brain. Want my bed back,
want to not worry
> about making noise. ;-)
Poor baby - you suffering from lack of privacy? So, like, this would be
a
bad time to tell you that I've given some detailed thought to how I'm
going
to kiss you the second we get inside your hotel room, or that the
memory of
your skin under my fingers is enough to give me shivers, or that one of
Seb's mates was wearing leather trousers - obscenely tight leather
trousers,
such as I would look utterly stupid in - and I kinda went off to a happy
place for a while where I was the one in leather and you were the one
who
couldn't keep your hands to yourself, or your mouth of my skin, and it
was
therefore a really good thing that I was wearing a long shirt and that
no one
was expecting me to make sense by that stage.
> > > /me pets your hangover brain.
> >
> > Brain still thinking about purring. I'm probably a freak.
>
> Pet pet. *stroke* you know the rest...
Purring and moving into your touches.
OK - the problem with teasing you? I'm stuck in the library
thinking about
how sexy you are and how amazing you feel.
> Roast was good--pink in the middle, dark on the outside, lots for
both of
> us. Made too many potatoes, so the left overs will be fried up
tonight.
> Carrots and beans were steamed, corn was lovely, and we had far
too much
> ice cream afterwards.
You've been totally lying to me about the 'I'm horrible in the kitchen'
thing, haven't you? (This would be me grinning)
> Best part?
>
> He did the dishes.
Always a bonus.
> Love you, forever.
Heart and soul, your T.
**********
Adventure, excitement... a Jedi craves not these things. ...
***********
To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Mo