The Journal

"Gross," Jason threw a cushion at his brother. Amazing, whilst the idea of Alex and Lucy getting it on creeped him out, Jason didn't have to plaster on his usual fake smile. His brain was too full of a certain blonde nymphomaniac.

Chapter five

If Bertie did call to make another appointment, Jason wasn't around to hear it. He spent the next four days practically living at work, only making home once in the entire time. By the time he collapsed onto his bed on Sunday night he looked like a semi transformed werewolf. He slept through the whole of Monday morning, rolling out of bed at three and acknowledging the bevy of texts and phone calls which plagued him. After eating two bowls of cereal and taking a much needed shower, Jason shaved and attempted to tidy his little apartment, once again grateful he had opted for a tiny one-bedroom maisonette.

It was gone five by the time Jason left his home to head to Speak Out and catch up one some work. He had meant to leave earlier but looking for a decent shirt had resulted in the discovery he had lost weight, which then resulted in over an hour googling protein powders and low GI foods. The final choice of shirt was a grey button up which had once been on the tighter side, but now fit well, he paired it with black jeans and a slightly more formal shoe. Once Jason had tackled his beard, he'd finally bothered to try and style his hair the way the hairdresser had, the outcome of which made him strange cross between James McAvoy and a pekingese.

Jason's office was unlocked when he got there, he frowned, knowing the last time that had happened his snack drawer had been raided along with his hidden booze.

It was not a snack thief this time. It was Bertie Price, sitting on Jason's sofa, thin legs pulled up under himself, fingers dancing across the screen of his phone. Jason took him in for a moment, eyeing his ghostly head of hair, his small, pink lips, the mole that peeked out over the collar of his shirt. The sound of the door clicking shut seemed to shock them both, with Bertie firing off the sofa in seconds. The stood in silence for a full second before Bertie spoke, "lady said I could wait here," his voice was back to it's usual pitch, slurred and quiet.

"That's alright," Jason went to his desk, dumping his bag down. I thought we had moved past this, I thought I had broken that mask of his. He spun back round to Bertie, "I'm glad you came back, we didn't make an appointment before." Jason spoke in his 'professional' voice, the one he knew was polite bordering patronizing, if Bertie wasn't going to play fair, neither would he. The other man nodded and they settled back into silence.

Are we not going to talk about last time? Or about how you having a thing for me? Or that you love your dead brother? Or the....

Jason was absorbed in these thoughts when Bertie finally decided to talk again, "I've started a new journal," he announced, his voice a little less childish this time, "I think it's helping."

"Oh," Jason hastily fetched out his notes, jotting down the information, "good, good. Are you doing it everyday?" he settled into work mode, seating himself in the chair Bertie usually took and making more notes, Bertie nodded. "What about work?" Jason asked, it was one of their priorities at Speak Out, helping patients source meaningful careers or activities that gave them a sense of purpose.

"I've helped out some friends," Bertie's voice was almost normal now but his face still held an element of mystery, "but nothing else yet."

"What about before," Jason riffled through the paperwork, "before your previous job you were a," he shuffled more, "teacher," he finally said triumphantly.

"Oh yeah," Bertie muttered like a petulant teenager. Jason shrugged, he couldn't help but agree, if anymore was a terrible choice to be a teacher it would be Bertie Price, not to mention his 'accident' had taken place at the previous school at which he taught. A good reference was unlikely. "But you did teach?" Jason clarified.

"Mmhmm," Bertie's tongue slithered out, catching his lower lip, Jesus, "home economics and religious education," Bertie said, ensnaring and holding Jason's gaze.

"What a combination," Jason croaked out, standing and making coffees in an attempted to cover his traitorous cock, which had decided to come to life.

"I just wanted to teach home ec, but father..." Bertie drifted off, but Jason could feel him staring at his back as he made their drinks.

Once his body was being obedient, Jason reseated himself, sipping his coffee. "What about you?" Bertie asked, gratefully accepted his own drink. The mask had all but gone now, Bertie's voice lower than usual but posher than ever, it had Grammar school written all over it, but Jason still enjoyed how it sounded on his ears. At his questioning look Bertie elaborated, "for work? You're not always here," he pouted at little after saying that last bit.

Did he come looking for me?

"You're right, I only help out here part time," my brother doesn't even fucking pay me, "I have another job outside of this." Bertie frowned at his blatant avoidance of the question, Jason grimaced, so this is how politicians feel.

"I got that," Bertie's posh little voice sounded sweet even when he was clearly pissed, "doing what?" Jason sighed, putting down his coffee cup,

"I'm a doctor," he said in a rather quiet voice. Bertie's eyebrows disappeared into his fair hair,

"A doctor?" it was possibly the loudest Bertie had ever spoken, and the most adult he had ever sounded, "like, in a hospital?"

"Uh yeah, I'm a umm..." Jason cringed, "I'm actually a neurosurgeon." Bertie's brain seemed to short circuit at that (pun not intended), rendering him still and silent. Jason was always a little embarrassed by the job other's would have raved about, not only that, but of all people he was telling Albert Price, his boss's ex patient and a man who had actually had brain surgery. "I've only actually been a surgeon for a few years though and I'm still pretty junior," he lied. Everyone on the ward knew that once old Dr. Peebles retired, Jason would be heading up his own team. He didn't mention the fact that he had graduated school when he was barely fifteen, or the fact that he'd continued being the weird friendless kid at university years younger than his peers, nor that he'd completed medical training that took most people fifteen years by the time he was twenty six. The word 'genius' had plagued Jason his entire life and was entirely the reason he rarely spoke about his work.

Bertie finally seemed to defrost out of whatever state he had been in, blinking and taking a gulp of coffee before staring at his own hands with great interest, "a brain surgeon," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Yeah," Jason grabbed some of his notes, "actually, that's what made me take a closer look at your medical records," Bertie's entire body tensed at that. "I asked a colleague of mine to take a look at the surgery you had done and damage the accident did."

"You asked a colleague?" Bertie spoke to his hands.

"Always good to get a second opinion," Jason quipped, making a tiny dent in the tension Bertie's body was holding. "She said when they fixed you up, they umm, checked everything out," Jason always struggled to put things in layman's terms, one of the reasons patients weren't all that keen on him, "and whilst they were worried about damage, everything was fine."

A small, indescribable noise came from Bertie at that moment and he finally looked up, panic like no other welling in his honey eyes. "Please don't tell anyone," he whispered, it was not the reaction Jason had been expecting.

"What?" Jason stood, moving to sit next Bertie on the sofa, "Bertie, this is huge, your surgeon was worried about trauma but this," he shook the papers, "proves there's nothing wrong with you." Did Bertie not want to be done with all this? Free of his stigma? Bertie grabbed for Jason's hands, clasping them in his warm, sweaty grip,

"I know," tears streamed down his cheeks, "I was concussed for a while after the accident and then I felt completely fine again, but the doctors had already told everyone I might be a little different so..." his pulled away his hands to wipe his eyes.

"Jesus," sighed Jason, pulling Bertie closer and mopping his tears with a shirt sleeve, "I thought you might have been exaggerating it a little but maybe you were just messing around." Surprisingly, Bertie almost launched himself at Jason's chest, huge heaving sobs leaving his body, "woah, hey, hey, now then," Jason felt like his mother, giving Bertie a squeeze and rubbing his back.

"I was messing at first, I figured I could be anyone I wanted. My father..." a chuckle vibrated through Jason's chest, "he was so angry. It was addictive," there was a satisfied tone to Bertie's voice.

"But," Jason pulled away a little, taking in Bertie's lovely face, messy with tears, "it's been almost four years Bertie." The other man nodded, sniffing,

"I know, I never thought it would go on for so long but," he paused, "I felt so free," he said wistfully. "I could finally leave that awful job, do a job I loved, sleep with whoever I wanted. I said things I never thought I would say, acted like a child, but nobody chastised me. Nobody ever expected anything of me and before I knew it, that's who I became," he tilted his head to one side, his hair sweeping over, "until you."

"Me?" Jason asked, knowing the answer.

"You saw right through me," Bertie sounded annoyed and impressed in equal measure.

"Maybe," Jason couldn't help but feel a little smug, "just flashes here and there. I've been studying psychology in my spare time," he went and grabbed Bertie some tissues, "my thesis is on compulsive lying," he added as he plonked the box on Bertie's lap. That earnt him a scowl, Bertie's pink little mouth twisting in disgust as he mopped at his damp eyes, "I'm not crazy though," he muttered, "I mean I was, don't get me wrong, but now...." he drifted off.

"We'll see," jason grinned, suddenly feeling flirty.

"Takes one to know one," Bertie said knowingly, Jason couldn't help but laugh at that, it was true, between them they had more baggage than an Airbus.

They settled for a moment, Bertie tidying himself up, Jason sitting next to him, an arm slung over the other man's shoulder, his fingers tracing Bertie's bare arm beneath his short sleeved shirt. "I won't tell anyone," Jason finally murmured, his decision made.

"You won't?" Bertie's eyes were huge.

"I won't," Jason cupped Bertie's cheek, feeling suddenly so intimate with this man, the things that they had shared which would never leave the room, "but around me," he traced Bertie's bottom lip with his thumb, enjoying the way a shiver went through the other man, "be like this around me."

There was no way of knowing who kissed who, their lips, which had been apart, were now together, moving over each other with a gentle sensuality.

It was the sweetest kiss Jason had ever had, in fact it was one of the only kisses Jason had ever had, he made a point not to do such things. To Jason, kissing was reserved for cheeks and foreheads and were usually given to his parents or his niece and nephew. Kissing was not for sex, sex was a carnal, violent and dominating act. With Bertie however, kissing was everything. The way he sighed into Jason's mouth, tasting of coffee and liquorice, the way his tiny frame seemed to buzz with an energy which had not been there before, the way his delicate hands clung onto Jason's biceps. Jason took it slow, tracing Bertie's lips several times before finally sliding his tongue into the blonde's mouth, for some reason he was trepidatious, he wanted to be careful with Bertie. Realising they were hovering awkwardly on Bertie's shoulders, Jason moved his hands to Bertie's hips, pulling the man closer, crushing their bodies together. Bertie moaned at that, almost a sigh, a sweet little sound.

They pulled apart for only second, breathing hard, both searching the other's eyes and both moving to continue the kiss when they saw what those eyes held. This time, Jason's hands made their way back to Bertie's arms, drawn to the only visible skin available. He ran his palms up and down their length, the pads of his fingers finding the multitude of scars decorating Bertie's wrists. As much as it was lovely and romantic what they were doing, Jason couldn't help but let one hand find the front of Bertie's jeans, grateful when he cupped a very obvious erection. "Jason," was the wanton little whisper that answered as he undid Bertie's jeans, sliding his hands into the other man's underwear, pleased to find it's contents wet and hard. As much as Jason abhorred it, he was already pulling down Bertie's jeans and lining his mouth up with a slightly small but beautiful cock. Jason did not give bllowjobs, stat. To lower himself to such a thing, how could he? But for some reason in moments he was slobbering over Bertie's adorable cock, Jason wasn't particularly skilled, working off the fact that wet, warm and tight usually resulted in an orgasm for a man.

He trailed his tongue over Bertie's length, enjoying the little whimpers that seemed to leave Bertie's mouth almost without permission. Jason was gentle, taking Bertie inch by inch, letting him enjoy every time his cock made it further into Jason's mouth. "So good, so good," Bertie was whispering over and over again, his tiny fingers had made their way under his shirt to play with his nipples. It was a wonderfully erotic sight. Eventually, Jason let Bertie's cock slip just into his throat, he was not experienced but Bertie's size wasn't much of an issue. He's so cute, how is he so cute? Jason hummed, loving the way it made Bertie shudder.

They both ignored the sound of Jason's phone vibrating in his pocket, too involved in their foreplay. It was only when it went off for the six consecutive time, Jason pulled off of Bertie's cock, "fuck's sake!" he growled, answering the call. He grunted affirmatively to Alex's complaints, apologising where necessary before finally getting to hang up. He looked down at Bertie, who looked practically like an oil painting. He was half reclined on the sofa, his shirt pulled up to show a toned, pale stomach, his jeans were at his knees, showing a pair of almost hairless white thighs, his hard cock was still in Jason's hand, precum covering everything in it's vacinity. Bertie's face was the best of all, his lips parted in pleasure, semi covered by a hand he was using to stifle his cries. His honey eyes were dark but glazed, his hair had fallen off his face, revealing his clear, pale forehead, marred only by his jagged scar. Jason licked that scar now, trailing his tongue along it as his hand worked Bertie's cock, his went faster now, knowing he had to finish this soon. "Jason," that little breathy whisper came again, Bertie burying his face in Jason's neck, surprisingly sharp canines digging into the flesh. "Jason!" he squeaked again, his body tensing as orgasm took him. Jason pulled back to watch, Bertie's tiny body shuddered, muscles Jason hadn't expected popped out as he rode out his orgasm. His eyes were clenched tightly shut but his mouth was open, no breath going in or out. After some time, he finally exhaled, his body going lax. Jason kissed him again, a peck, enjoying how unfocused those honey eyes were when they finally opened to look at him. Jason had never given another man pleasure like that and he felt weirdly good about it. "I know this is a little bizarre," Jason mumbled, dotting kisses on Bertie's face, "but do you want to come to dinner?"

Chapter six

It was only when Jason rung the doorbell of his brother's home he realised what he was doing was probably going to be an ethical and legal mess. Inviting clients to dinner was not okay. Blowing clients isn't okay either dipshit. One glance at a very nervous Bertie confirmed that what they were doing was likely a one way path to the most awkward evening possible. He looked adorable, hair still slightly ruffled, eyes warm pots of liquid toffee. Even after their long walk in the cold, Bertie's lips were still glazed with saliva, his tiny hand warm in Jason's own. They had held hands, another act Jason found unnecessary but for some reason felt wonderful with Bertie.

Alex's dumb but handsome face greeted them as the door swung open, "Jace!" he leapt into Jason's arms, not even spotting Bertie, "can't believe you were late to your own birthday dinner you bastard!" he pulled away to ruffle Jason's hair.

"Birthday?" Bertie's chirpy voice was barely audible. Alex seemed to actually notice the other man then, shooting Jason a glance that screamed confusion and disappointment but Jason caught the tiny flash of something else. Jason had a habit of fucking his clients but he certainly didn't have a habit of bringing them to family dinners. "Bertie," Alex summoned a genuine smile, giving Bertie such an enthusiastic handshake it looked like he might pull the man's arm off, "that's right, Jason's birthday's today and mine's on Wednesday so we usually have a little combined gathering, ergo," Alex gestured to the laughter coming from inside the house. Bertie nodded and the pair followed Jason's brother inside, Bertie whispering a tiny 'happy birthday' in Jason's ear.

After a rough start, which mostly included Jason's relatives glaring at him for blurring the lines of client and friend, the evening actually went well. Bertie was, well, Bertie. His act was in full swing, they hadn't really discussed it but Jason had known Bertie wouldn't suddenly drop all his pretenses in a matter of minutes. Most of the evening Bertie was trapped playing with four year old Maisie, who was as forceful as ever with her playtime requests, little two year old Teddy clung to Lucy for most of the night before both children were so over tired they gradually went into meltdown before the cake was even brought out. Bertie was more subdued after the children went to bed, staying almost silent by Jason's side as he blew out his candles and put on his best fake smiles for the bevy of unwanted gifts which were thrust upon him.

The real awkward moments came towards the end of the evening, once everyone had had a drink or two. With most of the current company consisting of psychiatrists, psychologists and the like, the political correctness in the room meant Bertie was practically ignored. The only person who knew little about him was Alex's wife Lucy, who did as any good hostess would and began quizzing Bertie on his life up until that moment. It was fine at first, finding out where Bertie was from (Buckinghamshire), if he had any siblings (not anymore, yikes), where he worked (nowhere) and how old he was (thirty three in March). It was all rather tame but Bertie's tiny hand squirmed in Jason's, sweat pooling between their palms, his little feet fidgeting on the floor, but Lucy was drunk, and like her daughter, was forceful without even realising it.

"So what about your parents?" she slurred a little over her fifth glass of wine.

"Lucy I think you can leave the poor man alone now," Jason's mother's scottish twang was more pronounced when she'd been drinking, she was cuddled up to Mama, giving an alarming tableau of the time Jason had caught them in bed together when he was eleven. If I didn't know I was gay before that... Lucy snorted a laugh, ignoring Alex's objections to take another sip of her wine, she wasn't normally much of a drinker but this was the closest she'd had to a party since Teddy's birth. "What about your mum? Does she work?" Lucy rambled, picking away at her bit of birthday cake, "because I keep telling Alex that I could go back to work but he says I don't need too. Does your mum work Bertie?" Jason didn't even need to look to his side, he could practically feel Bertie vibrating next to him, it surprised everyone when he spoke.