I was awake, but in no hurry to open my eyes; I was feeling too contented to bother letting the morning in just yet. Much as we so often slept with Ty's head on my chest, I loved this increasingly frequent variation.
I was on my side spooning him. My knees were bent and resting against the back of his knees; my arm was around his chest, but with enough room to allow access to his boy bits, should that be needed; and my penis - now at 'parade rest' - was nestled in the warm crevice of his ass cheeks.
In this sleep position, Ty was always totally relaxed. His body seemed to meld into mine, and with my arm around him, I felt like I was hugging myself. With my eyes closed, and Ty's steady breathing tickling the hairs on my arm, I was reminded of how truly in love we were.
It didn't last for long. Within a few minutes, Ty was stirring; and I knew he was awake when he kissed my arm.
I couldn't resist whispering in his ear, "But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Julian is the sun!"
"Yeah, see …" he yawned, "Julian needs to piss!"
He turned around and kissed me before throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed. I watched as he strode to the bathroom; and on his return, noted the remnants of his 'nocturnal penile tumescence.'
He slipped back into bed, and immediately enveloped me, planting a wet one on my lips. We smooched for a while until his hand slipped lower and encountered my own morning glory.
"Is this for me?" he asked salaciously.
"I'd like to say yes," I smirked, "but it's actually me needing a pee!"
He sighed as I climbed naked from the bed and headed to the bathroom. As I walked away from him, he whistled and said, " What a piece of work is a man!"
I picked up my discarded boxers from the floor and threw them at him. "That's not Romeo and Juliet, you goose!" I laughed. "It's Hamlet!"
"I know that!" Ty protested. "I know my Shakespeare! My favourite quote is from A Midsummer Night's Dream … ' My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones.'"
I chuckled as I emptied my bladder. As I washed my hands, I called to Ty, "You want a cup of tea?"
I heard the sigh. "I'd rather have you … but if tea's all that's going, then yeah."
I switched the kettle on and called room service. I ordered Ty's fruit platter and some additional pieces of ripe fruit; and for myself, frittata with over-dried tomato, buffalo mozzarella, basil leaves, and a side of toast.
As I was pouring the tea, Ty emerged from the bedroom looking all cute and sleepy … and totally naked. I handed him his tea while my eyes swept his body. "Breakfast is on its way," I smiled.
Before we walked onto the balcony, Ty donned a robe. We stood and sipped our tea as we looked at the view of Boston's Public Garden.
"This is a great hotel, eh?" Ty asked, as he absentmindedly ran his hand over my robe clad ass.
"It sure is," I agreed. "The nicest so far, I reckon."
"Isn't it funny to think I'd never stayed in a real hotel until just before my first album was released!"
"Are you serious?" I asked, surprised. "Not even on holidays, when you were a kid?"
"We never went on holidays," Ty replied. "Mum and dad wouldn't have been able to afford it. Not that we minded; there was always plenty to do on the farm."
Ty gazed into the distance for a few moments. "I do remember staying in a motel in Stanthorpe once," he said. "There was some sort of plumbing and sewerage problem at the farm one Sunday after church. Dad couldn't get anyone to fix it until Monday, so we all checked into this motel for the night, so we'd have running water and a toilet."
"You mean the whole family?"
"Well, this was before Scotty was born. I'd have been about 10, so Lachie was four. We all shared one big room with two double beds."
"That sounds nice and cosy!"
"Lach and I thought it was like … paradise!" Ty chuckled. "We went to the motel restaurant and all shared a chicken in a basket; and Dad talked Mum into letting us have chips! Then we were able to watch TV in bed!"
He smiled at the memory, before adding, "I remember after lights out, I was still awake, when I heard Mum say, "Stop that, Frank - the boys are in the room!""
I laughed. "So, there was a bit of rumpy pumpy going on?"
"I was ten," Ty chuckled. "I wouldn't have had a clue about any of that stuff. But in hindsight, I reckon Dad was probably giving it his best shot!"
When we'd finished our tea, we shaved and shared a quick shower before our breakfast arrived. Back in our robes, we sat in the lounge and ate until Felix turned up.
"Thanks again for last night, guys," he beamed. "I had a great time."
"Yeah, we enjoyed ourselves, too," Ty agreed.
"Do you have anything planned before you leave for the theatre?" Felix asked.
Ty nodded toward the window and its view. "I wouldn't mind going for a run around that park," he said. "Then I'll spend the rest of the time at the piano."
Felix nodded. "You'd be best to cross over Charles Street, enter the Public Gardens and walk past the 'Make Way for Duckling' statutes," he said. "You'll pass the Swan Boats before you head down the Commonwealth Mall, then turn back at Hereford Street and run back towards downtown. It's quite a decent run."
"Will you be joining us?"
"Not today," Felix replied. "I didn't sleep well last night, so I might have a nap before we leave for the Orpheum."
"Is anything wrong?"
"I don't think so," he shrugged. "I'm just missing Rob. I'll organise for security to follow you."
* * *
It was a gruelling run, and Ty and I were huffing and puffing by the time security and our driver picked us up somewhere near Copley Square.
Back at the hotel, we had another quick shower together to get rid of the sweat, before dressing in the daywear that Felix had thoughtfully laid out on our bed.
I ordered coffees, then set up my laptop and dealt with several work-related emails. In the next room, Ty sat and tinkled at the baby grand, occasionally singing softly to himself.
Late morning, I slipped out of the hotel and visited the produce store where Felix had picked up items for last night's dinner. I bought more salad ingredients, and ordered freshly squeezed grape juice for two. In the suite's kitchen, I threw together a fine looking salad and served it on the balcony.
"Lunch is ready," I called.
When Ty appeared in the lounge room, he scratched his head. "I didn't hear room service arrive."
"They didn't," I smiled. "I went out and bought stuff, and made up a salad."
"For me?"
"For us!"
"Awww!" he chuckled. "What do I owe you?"
"Well, I thought about that while I was making the salad," I grinned. "I reckon it should be either 20 little kisses, or one really, really long one!"
Ty closed the gap between us, put his hand behind my head, and pulled my face to his. "Start counting, lawyer boy!" he smirked, before planting the first of 20 sweet kisses on my lips. When he'd finished, I pulled back and sighed, before he started forward again.
"I haven't finished yet - you're getting a really, really long one, too!" he laughed, as he backed me up against the wall and moved in for the marathon.
When the snogging stopped, we moved to the balcony and enjoyed our salad and grape juice. Ty seemed relaxed and happy, and keen to get back on stage and show Boston what he could do.
Mon phoned us with a 10-minute heads-up to be in the lobby; and in short order, we were in the van gliding along Tremont Street before turning right onto Hamilton Place. Again, Mon took a photo on Ty's name on the Orpheum marquee before we were shown backstage to Ty's dressing room.
We took a quick wander and got our bearings, before Ty grabbed a bottle of water and sauntered on stage for his sound check. For several minutes, he chatted and laughed with his band, comparing notes on how the previous evening had gone.
When Gus announced that the stage sound was balanced, Ty went through his usual four songs, giving his sound guy the thumbs up. While the band returned to their dressing room, Ty stood at the front of the stage and marvelled at the beauty of the theatre's interior. It was in need of renovation, but it had an elegance and class that made it comfortable and inviting.
I joined him on stage, and he said, "The sound here kicks ass!"
He moved to the piano, and this time, he played "Bridge over Trouble Water" all the way through, the excellent sound system enabling his voice to bounce off the walls. When he'd finished, he sat and messed with chords for a while before playing an introduction that was instantly familiar to me, but which I couldn't place immediately. I cocked my head at Ty.
"I've been thinking about my brothers," he smiled, before starting to sing …
"The road is long, with many a winding road …"
I'd not heard Ty sing "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother" since the tribute night years earlier for Lachlan's fallen comrades, Lieutenant Matthew Burgess and Private Rodney Maguire, after whom Lachlan and Ellie's twin sons had been named.
I had tears in my eyes by the time he'd finished. He'd conjured up bittersweet memories for me; the tragedy of the deaths of Lachlan's mates, and the huge success of that fundraising evening to aid Rodney and Matthew's families.
As we walked back to the dressing room, I put my arm around Ty's shoulder. "That was beautiful, mate," I smiled. "Good memories and bad memories intertwined."
"I need to sing it, or at least hear it every now and again," Ty sighed. "It's a reminder to me how lucky we are to still have Lachie."
Felix was waiting in Ty's dressing room with a bowl of steamed green vegetables. As always, he was distracted by the food; any melancholy he was feeling evaporated with his first mouthful of zucchini and broccoli. He's a Hill boy, after all …
Felix came and sat down on the couch opposite us with a gift bottle page at his feet. "I've got something to give you both tonight," he began.
"You don't have to do that!" Ty exclaimed.
"I didn't!" Felix grinned. "It's from your housekeeper George. He had it delivered to the hotel in Fresno with a request that it be given to Ty's PA. There was a note with it telling me to please give it to you both on this particular night with compliments of him and Max. It came with a sealed note for you both."
Felix put the bag on the coffee table separating us. I reached out and extricated the bottle; it was a 2010 Coldstream Hills Chardonnay, which George knew was my all-time favourite, and a wine that Ty had also come to love.
I picked up the accompanying envelope, opened it, and smiled. "Well, read it!" Ty urged.
"Dear Mr. Stewart and Mr. Hill, This small gift from home is to mark the fourth anniversary of the first time I heard you having sex. I'd worked for you for some time and, while I knew you were at it most of the time, I'd never been witness. It was this day, four years ago, when I got up to let Scruffy outside to relieve himself that I stood in the lounge room and heard the unmistakable sounds of two men, obviously in love, sharing that love in the time-honoured way of men. Who was doing whom, I couldn't be sure, but it was definitely Mr. Hill who moaned, "Fuck, I love your cock … harder!" I can repeat those words verbatim, because they are indelibly etched on my brain; never in all my years at Grand Apartments did I ever hear those words from behind a closed door … and I heard a lot! Congratulations, gentlemen! I knew from the first day I saw you together in the penthouse that you were perfect for each other. I hope you'll share this favourite white wine together tonight after Mr. Hill's Boston concert, with the compliments of Max and me. Max was going to add his own message, but he's found the cheesecake I hid earlier today … With love, George."
Ty was genuinely touched. "What a beautiful guy he is," he sighed.
"Yeah, we hit the jackpot there for sure," I agreed.
"George is your housekeeper, right?" Felix asked.
"He's a lot more than that, mate," I laughed. "He's our … 'Mr. Take Care of Everything.'"
"And he lives with you?"
As Ty started to explain how George came to be in our lives, I excused myself to put together a meal for myself from the dinner buffet. I chose butter chicken, and this time I loaded the plate with the steamed greens that were offered as a side dish. Ty was starting to turn me on to the pleasure of green vegetables.
I shot the shit with Ty's guitarist Christian for a while before making my way back to the dressing room. Ty and Felix were still talking while Felix got the room ready for Ty's one hour power nap.
Ty smirked when he saw my plate. "You've got a few greens there, mate!" he said.
"I'm starting to really miss them, if they're not part of a meal," I smiled.
"They're full of vitamins," Ty assured me. "And they give you energy. You'll need energy later tonight." Realising what he'd said, he added needlessly, "You know, to share that bottle of wine from George and Max …"
Felix left us to put up 'do not disturb' signs while I finished my meal. Ty got comfortable in a sleep position on the couch, and I bent to kiss his lips, before I left the room switching the main lights off.
I was immersed in work emails when I heard Ty's 15 minute call and made the trek back down the corridor. He was dressed already and pacing.
As I sat on the couch and observed him, I was reminded that even after all these years - and this level of success - he wasn't simply wanting to get the show over with before moving on to the next one.
Ty still just wanted to get out in front of people to play and sing. He was still in awe of the fact that so many people globally had bought his albums and parted with money to hear him sing live. I couldn't ever imagine a time when Ty would accept an offer, based on its financial reward. He was one of those rare guys who'd accept an offer just because it was an indication that people wanted to listen to him sing.
It was one of the reasons why I loved him as I did.
* * *
When Ty hit the stage in Boston, he was pumped. He was greeted with enormous enthusiasm by the capacity audience, and he punished himself to make sure they were getting what they came for … and more.
He had them eating out of his hand by the time he got to "Winter in America," but lest there be any doubt they were having a great experience, he blitzed them with "Lawyers in Love" and "Until You Came Along."
If Boston would leave any impression in my mind, it would be that by interval, Ty was as sweaty as he'd ever been halfway through any concert I'd attended in the time I'd known him. "Fuck, those lights are hot!" he groaned, as he stripped and had Felix towel him down and dress him for the second half.
He sweated his way through the set, blitzing his fans with "The Story of My Life" and "Hallelujah;" bringing them back down to earth with "Daylight Caught Me by Surprise," and lifting them up again with "Angels on High."
Ty was on his own high as he worked his way through his aftershow obligations - the meet and greet; the stage door onslaught; and the faithful who'd gathered outside the hotel in the hope of an autograph or a photo … and the chance to tell him what his music meant to them in their lives.
Ty was gracious through it all, but I knew that all he really wanted to do was jump under the shower and rid himself of the stale sweat that a towelling down alone couldn't remove.
When we were finally behind closed doors, the first thing Ty did was strip, leaving his sweaty clothes on the lounge room floor. While he showered, I opened my briefcase and retrieved the bottle of wine George had sent, still chilled from Ty's dressing room fridge.
In the bedroom, I undressed and put on a robe. I heard the shower shut off, and after drying himself and spraying cologne, Ty appeared in the lounge room wrapped in his hotel robe.
"That feels so much better!" he grinned, as he lightly kissed me. "You've got no idea how hot it was under those lights!"
I kissed him back, before wriggling away from him. "Just gonna have a quick shower myself," I smiled. "I wanna smell all yummy, too!"
I washed myself thoroughly under the hot spray, then dried myself using the same towel Ty had discarded. I sprayed myself with Viktor & Rolf's Antidote; making a mental note to pick up another bottle in New York.
When I returned to the lounge, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Ty had dimmed the lights so far that the room was in semi-darkness. He'd filled an ice bucket with ice from the fridge, and put the open bottle of Coldstream Hills in it to chill even more. Soft instrumental jazz was playing on the hi-fi, and Ty had covered the larger of the two leather sofas with soft pillows from the bedroom.
He smiled at me and patted a seat next to him. I'd not sooner sat, than he embraced me, leaned me back, and hit me with one of his earth-shattering kisses; I thought again of marshmallows.
It was a long languid kiss, only broken when we both needed to breathe. We sat up, and Ty poured us both a glass of wine. We savoured it for a moment, enjoying the taste of the fine Aussie drop from Victoria's Yarra Valley.
I raised my glass in salute. "To you, mate!" I grinned. "It was an awesome concert tonight!"
Ty ignored my salute, raising his own glass instead. "Nah, this is to you, Mike," he smiled. "To thank you for everything you do for me, and for always being there."
"I love you, Ty. I'll always be here for you."
"And I love you, too, Michael Stewart," Ty smiled. "I know I probably sound like a broken record, but I'll say it again … I couldn't do this without you. If you weren't here, this tour would be like an out-of-body experience for me … disembodied, and very scary. But somehow, you enable to me keep it all together."
I stroked the side of his face. "The hardest part is being 'Tyson Hill;' I know that," I said quietly. "And you do it amazingly well. I love watching you be 'Tyson Hill;' but the best part for me is when we're finally alone, and I've got my curly haired farm boy back. The one I fell in love with."
We enjoyed a second glass of wine while lying back on the sofa … me with an arm around Ty's shoulder, my hand toying with the curls that framed his handsome face. We were quiet, just enjoying the soft, relaxed music and our shared intimacy.
When I heard the first stifled yawn, I put my glass down on the coffee table, then took Ty's glass from him. I stood, held out a hand and said, "Bedtime!"
Ty accepted my hand, but instead of letting me pull him up, he dragged me back down onto the sofa.
"Yeah, see … it'll be bedtime eventually," he smirked as he laid me out flat and opened my robe. He sat up briefly and discarded his robe before lying gently on top of me and started kissing me again.
When the kiss ended, he grinned. "See, first … I'm gonna fuck you until you see stars …"
* * *
The thing with Ty is whenever he makes a promise, he follows through without fail. Like last night, when he promised to fuck me until I saw stars; I not only saw them, I felt like I could reach out and touch them. The red dwarf stars; yellow stars; blue giant stars; and super giant stars - they were all so close.
The other thing with Ty is whenever there's a task at hand, he applies himself. Whether it's learning a lyric, writing a song, signing autographs, or painting a shed with his dad … he immerses himself in the moment. And last night was no exception.
In words, he told me how much he loved me, and when he'd run out of words, we made love. Ty was passionate but gentle, using his body to show me love in a way that could never translate into mere words.
Only when he'd taken us to the brink did he pick up the pace, and together we disappeared over the edge. The reward for me was holding him tight when he gave up the fight and surrendered to his petit mort; the sounds he made were a symphony to my ears. Ty didn't just see stars - for him, it was a supernova.
I lay awake in the early morning, enjoying the sound of Ty's measured breathing on my chest as he slept on. These moments always served to remind me that until I'd met this beautiful man in my arms, I'd never experienced true love. An occasional crush, sure … but nothing near the all-consuming feeling I had for this gentle man, who'd so easily stolen my heart.
I drifted back to sleep until Ty started to stir, and I had a smile waiting for him the moment he opened his eyes and blinked.
"Morning, mate," he yawned. "Is it early?"
"No, actually," I laughed, "it's after 9:30."
"I don't want to get up yet," he pouted. "I want to snooze some more."
"You can snooze," I nodded. "I'll go into the other room and play the piano and sing …"
Ty's eyes flew open momentarily. "No, that's not going to happen! You'll stay here and cuddle me," he said emphatically. "We'll both snooze."
He rolled onto his side, offering the back of his warm, naked body for me to wrap myself around. Seriously, what's a boy to do?
We slept for another hour or so, woken only by a ringing hotel phone. I picked it up and mumbled something, and Felix replied with an instruction that we needed to be showered and dressed within five minutes; after which, he would arrive, choose our clothes for the day, and pack our luggage for departure.
"We need to be showered and ready for Felix in five minutes," I sighed as I hung up the phone. Then I smiled at him.
"We can do that!" Ty nodded, adding, "You're lookin' happy!"
"I am!"
"Is there any particular reason?"
"I'm in love!"
"Oh … with whom?"
I rolled my eyes. "Vince!" I giggled.
"Well, this is rather sudden," Ty smirked. "Were you thinking of him last night …?"
"I sure was!" I nodded. "I've always had this fantasy about being screwed by King Kong!"
"Hairy men turn you on?"
"Curly haired men turn me on - one in particular!" I chuckled.
"There are lots of curly haired men around," Ty sighed. "It could be any of them."
"Yes, but I'm in love with a curly haired man who grew up on a farm in Stanthorpe …"
"Well, it could be Lachie Hill or Scotty Hill," Ty reasoned.
"Well, I sure do love both Lachlan and Scott Hill," I whispered. "But see, their big brother … I'm in love with him!"
"Oh, that'd be Tyson Hill," Ty sighed apologetically. "You can't have him. He's involved with his really hot lawyer, and he doesn't even notice other guys, let alone talk to them."
"Oh … shame!" I tutted. "See, I was thinking that tonight, being my first night in New York City and all, I'd invite Tyson Hill out to dinner somewhere swanky before I seduced him. Take him back to my hotel room and have my way with him! I'd give him a thorough going over, and I'd whisper things in his ear that no church going farm boy should ever hear from another man."
Of course, there had to be a knock at the door.
"It'll be Felix," I sighed. "Can you let him in?"
"I can't go, I've got an erection!"
"I do, too! He's your PA …"
"He does just as much for you!" Ty grumbled as he climbed out of bed and put on his robe. I felt bad, so I rose, covered up, then followed him to the door, where we both welcomed Felix inside.
Felix was yabbering away about the day's schedule, when his eyes fell to the middle of our robes. He looked up at us both and smirked.
"I do understand," he said sympathetically. "And if it was earlier, I'd be backing out of the room and giving you an extra half hour. But we're in danger of running late this morning, so it's a 'no' from me!"
Ty and I sighed in unison.
"If you'd had your shower when I asked you to, this mightn't be a problem now!" Felix smirked. "But you're out of time. So now, you need to have a quick shower - and I do mean quick."
He looked at his watch. "I'll be opening that bathroom door in exactly five minutes from now. Be clean … and dry!"
Ty and I bolted for the bathroom. We jumped in the shower together, realising there was no time anything other than helping each other wash. Enjoyable enough, nonetheless …
* * *
Our driver had no sooner pulled onto I-90 W/Massachusetts Turnpike, than Vince was grumbling that for much of the four hour drive ahead of us, there would be precious little scenery.
"I'm sitting opposite Ty," he sighed. "He's all I've got to look at for four bloody hours!"
"I'll happily switch places with you, mate," I laughed. "I couldn't think of anything better than looking at Ty for hours on end!"
"Yeah - good onya!" Vince laughed. "I'm staying right here next to my gorgeous woman!"
Connie immediately stiffened and turned slightly sideways away from Vince.
"Honey?" he shrugged. "What did I say? I said you're a gorgeous woman! And you are!"
Connie sighed loudly and turned even further away. When Vince looked at Mon, she giggled. He looked at me, and I laughed. "Seriously, mate … I'm a gay man, and even I know what was wrong with that sentence!"
"What?" Vince implored. "Seriously … what?"
"Connie is a gorgeous lady, Vince!" I chuckled. "If you tell her she's a gorgeous woman, she's thinking you see her being like her mum!"
"I don't even know her mum," Vince spluttered.
Connie turned around. "You see, Vincent … you don't know how to compliment a female! You think I look old! Your words, they come out wrong. But these boys, they know how to pay a compliment to a lady - and they're maggots!"
"They're faggots, sweetheart," he said quietly. "Maggots are insect larva."
Mon changed the subject by handing around energy bars, and we soon got comfortable doing what we individually did on long road trips. Our driver let us know when we'd reached Cape Cod, and he detoured past the beach and lighthouses in Hull.
We followed solitary pursuits until we reached Rhode Island, and later, Newport. Ty was chuffed when he stopped briefly at the New York Yacht Club, and he had his photo taken in front of the 'America's Cup Avenue' road sign. It was in the middle of a busy carriageway, but Ty was on a mission … determined to send the photo to his dad, with whom as a five-year-old, he'd watched the Aussies cross the line.
From there, Ty dozed until we hit NYC traffic and everything ground to a halt for a while. Mon kept us all distracted by reading posts from Ty's Facebook page and many of his website emails. Eventually, we wound up outside the Mandarin Oriental Hotel on Columbus Circle at 60th Street - our home for the next few days.
Again, we were met and welcomed by the hotel's duty managers, who handed out key cards. Ty looked baffled when he was handed a small padded package addressed to him at the hotel.
"That'll be your glasses," Felix winked.
We were introduced to Ty's security team: Eric and Kyle in the lobby, Patrick in the corridor leading to our room.
We were shown to our suite and, once again, Ty had been upgraded; this time, to the hotel's Oriental Suite on the 52nd floor. Waiting for Felix and the porters to arrive with our luggage, we walked around the suite with our mouths slightly open. We were gobsmacked by the magnificent views of Central Park, the Hudson River, and the Manhattan skyline.
The décor was a mix of New York and Asian influences, and our master bedroom was huge: a king-size bed, a bathroom with a soaking tub and separate shower, and a walk-in closet.
We had a separate living room adorned with contemporary black and silver furnishings and silk textiles … no baby grand piano this time though. The suite featured a separate study, and a spacious dining area serviced by a deluxe kitchen with custom designed Italian cabinets, granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.
I was impressed by the Bang & Olufsen televisions and audio system, and Ty was amused to see a large flat screen television in the bathroom.
"This is nice, eh?" Ty smiled.
"Beautiful," I agreed. "Open your parcel!"
"What?"
"Your glasses … I want to see them on!"
Ty picked up the package and opened it. He took out the case and removed a pair of spectacles. He looked at me sheepishly, then put them on.
"They look great!" I assured him, and they did. "You've got the perfect face for glasses. You look … hot!"
"You're just saying that," he sighed.
"No, I'm not!" I retorted. "Go look in the mirror."
Ty trudged into the bathroom and spent a while looking at himself from different angles. When I stood in the doorway, he caught my eye in the mirror and conceded, "They're not as bad as I thought they'd be."
"Ty," I said, as I walked up behind him and gave him a hug. "They look great! And they're only for when you're reading or on the computer. This isn't a biggie."
He turned around and kissed me. "I never thought about having to wear glasses … but I guess I'm stuck with them. I'm glad you like them, though … I've been worried about that."
I rolled my eyes. "Long haul, Ty …"
He grinned. "Even when I've reached the flannelette pyjamas stage?"
"Even then," I laughed. "Besides, my eyesight will be so bad by then that I won't even notice what you're wearing to bed. I'll be too preoccupied with taking my teeth out and putting on my woolly bed socks …"
We jumped slightly at the knock on the door. Felix was genuinely impressed by how good Ty looked wearing glasses, and his immediate reaction was reassuring to Ty. He kept them on while Felix unpacked for our stay, and even when we were invited to join him and the rest of the crew for dinner.
"Yeah, that sounds like it could be …" Ty began, before I cut him off.
"Tempting as that sounds, Felix," I smirked, "It's our first time in New York City together, and I intend on taking my smoking hot lawyer out for a dinner for two. Or three, if we count the security guy …"
"We're going on a date?" Ty giggled.
"Yes, we are!" I laughed. "We'll step out onto W59th Street, walk to 5th Avenue, and then have a slap up dinner somewhere nice. And you'll be wearing a beanie … and your glasses."
"So, it's a romantic dinner for two … and a guard?" Ty smirked.
"Well, dinner … for sure," I nodded. "But it's a seduction scene. Seeing I'm inviting you to dinner, there'll be obligations … like I'll be expecting you to put out later."
Ty feigned shock, and even adjusted his glasses. "Do I look like that kind of boy?" he asked.
I looked him up and down. "Yeah, ya do …"
* * *
After doing an online search while Ty had a shower, I took my hot date to Il Mulino on East 60th Street. My booking was a late one, but we'd got in on a cancellation. I explained to Ty that I picked it because it wasn't overly fancy, yet it was revered; President Obama and Bill Clinton had lunched here, and it was popular with the art crowd.
"This place is great!" Ty grinned as we sat down.
"Dinner's on me!" I laughed. "Knock yourself out."
I'd noticed something since we'd left the hotel, and I confirmed it while Ty perused the menu. "You know what?" I asked, "You haven't been noticed since we left the hotel!"
"What?"
"It's the combination of the beanie hiding your curls and the glasses!" I grinned. "I think you've found your secret weapon!"
Tentatively, Ty looked around the room; sure enough, nobody was paying any attention to us. He smiled and said, "I'm gonna have the Mediterranean roasted vegetables, with sides of broccoli and asparagus. And for you, I'm gonna order Pollo alla Scarpariello."
I laughed - Ty never normally ordered for me. "That's chicken with garlic, wine, and mushrooms," he explained.
"I know - great choice!" I grinned.
Ty seemed to genuinely relax, knowing he wasn't on display. He wasn't the least bit self-conscious about feeding me sticks of his roasted vegetables, or covering my hand with his as we talked about all sorts of shit and laughed at silly things.
Our meals, as expected, were excellent, and for dessert we shared sorbet. Ty had ensured that our security guard, seated in the reception area of the restaurant, got to eat; and after I settled the bill, he was on his feet at the same time we were.
As we stepped out onto E60th, Ty tentatively asked me if it would be OK for us to have a walk around; a bit like Archie would ask his mother if he could please have some hot chips.
I looked at Eric and asked, "Is it safe?"
"Yeah, it's safe!" he smiled. "I'll be trailing you. I'll get the driver to stay here, and I can call him to collect us from wherever we end up."
Ty was like a little boy in a toy shop; it was as if New York City was some fantasy land that he'd read about, and only just realised was true.
We walked along W59th, then randomly explored the surrounding streets. Ty said little as he drank in the sights; wherever we walked, there was a famous musical playing … The Lion King, The Phantom of the Opera, The Book of Mormon, Wicked, Chicago …
On W54th Street, I took a photo of Ty standing outside the Imperial Theatre, where the New York production of Les Miserables was in full swing. With no destination in mind, we wandered the streets, surprising ourselves when he happened upon Times Square, then finding ourselves in front of Radio City Music Hall, which was currently playing host to Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga.
We walked and walked, and for a while it seemed as though Ty had worked out the New York street scape; until I cottoned on to what he was actually doing. We'd walked along Park Avenue, Madison Avenue, 5th Avenue, and Lexington before it dawned on me that Ty was taking streets he knew either from television shows or board games.
"Are you giving me the Monopoly tour, mate?" I laughed.
Ty giggled. "When I was little, I used to think all these famous streets were just made up! And here I am!"
I glanced at my watch and saw it was getting late. I beckoned Eric and asked him to have our driver pick us up and return us to the hotel. Our roundabout drive from E72nd back to E60th afforded us the opportunity to see from the window, Central Park Zoo, the Museum of Modern Art, and Carnegie Hall before we were dropped at the entrance of the Mandarin Oriental.
As we entered the hotel, Eric was alerting our personal guard Patrick to our arrival. When he'd finished, he passed on a message from Patrick that the rest of the team was enjoying drinks and nibbles in the hotel's Lobby Lounge.
We took the elevator to the 35th floor, where Ty quickly spotted our travelling party, and he enthusiastically filled them in on our great meal and our walk around the streets of Manhattan. We sat and shared a quick drink with them before excusing ourselves.
Felix let us know that he was working on a 'sightseeing' itinerary for the following day, which would show us the main attractions of New York, if we were interested. When Ty nodded eagerly, Felix suggested coming by earlier than usual, at 8:30, so we could spend as much time as possible exploring the Big Apple.
Eric escorted us back to the 52nd floor, where we were greeted by Patrick and shown to our suite. As I turned the kettle on, Ty started to undress. When he yawned, I asked, "Would you like a tea?"
"Nah, thanks," he smiled.
"You look ready to crash!"
"Yeah, all that walking, I think," he replied, as he padded naked into the bedroom and slipped into our bed. I followed him and stripped out of my clothes.
"Thanks for dinner!" he smiled. "I had a great time tonight."
"Yeah, I enjoyed it, too," I grinned. "We're in New York City, mate! And as I guess you know … if you can make it here, you'll make it anyway, it's up to …"
Ty sat up immediately. "Don't sing it, please!" he spluttered. "I know the words!"
I feigned hurt, and Ty employed his puppy dog eyes. "Um, remember how you said that our dinner date was a seduction scene?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm ready to be seduced …"
* * *
I mused, as I padded quietly around the kitchen of our suite, that the dictionary defined 'seduced' as " luring someone into a course of action that is inadvisable or foolhardy."
I didn't see it that way, and certainly, Ty wouldn't have. So, perhaps 'seduce' was the wrong word to describe my intention. In hindsight, maybe I 'wooed' him; "Attempted to gain the love of a man or woman."
As I poured a cup of tea, I figured that wasn't quite the right word either. He already loved me, of that I was in no doubt. And I loved him back.
So … maybe 'loved' was the only word I needed … last night I loved him.
I loved him 24/7 of course. Often I let my kisses show him; other times, my open arms made it obvious. Last night, it was two body organs that did the talking - the heart and the penis … so similar in so many ways.
I'd read a book once that made the statement, "The heart and the penis are one." It asserted that many of the leading risk factors for cardiovascular disease are also risk factors for erectile dysfunction and impotence - high blood pressure, metabolic syndrome, and being overweight.
As I finished my tea, I resolved that we weren't in the 'risk factors' category. We both had happy, healthy hearts … and happy, healthy penises.
From the bedroom, I heard, "He was here last night, I'm sure … but now, he's gone. Perhaps I dreamt him?"
I appeared in the bedroom doorway with a grin on my face. "He's here - he wasn't a dream!" I laughed. "And everything that happened last night was real, too … especially that agonised look on your face ten seconds before blast off!"
"Yeah!" Ty smirked, "You do your job very well. I'm glad I have you as part of my team!"
"I'm just 'part of your team'?" I asked in mock surprise. "I thought I'd be 'head of the team'?"
"Well, you do give amazing head," Ty laughed. "And I've heard on the grapevine that you're a pretty good kisser, too. So, hop to it."
I shook my head. "How did we go from talking about my oral skills to you wanting kisses?"
Ty rolled his eyes. "Sucking dick is an oral activity, and so is kissing. Jeez, for a lawyer, you're sometimes not too bright!"
I channelled indifference when I replied, "How many kisses do you want?"
"Well, you're nearly 39; twice 39 is 78. If we add ten percent GST, it would come to 85.8, so it might be fair to round it out to 200 kisses …"
"You're applying Australian taxes," I replied dismissively. "The state tax is 8.875% here. Then there's the expected 20% percent tip for service."
"OK, so that increases the round out figure for kisses, so maybe we'll just say 500 kisses? Like, we don't have to be precise!"
I looked at him and rolled my eyes. "You're being ridiculous!" I laughed. "Before Felix gets here, we have enough time for about 20 short ones, or 10 longer ones."
Ty sighed. "Ten long ones, then. Starting now …"
I was lying next to him on the bed in my robe, and while the second kiss was in progress, Ty slipped his hand into the fold of my robe and cupped Itchy and Scratchy gently in his hand; he knew so well that having the boys in the engine room played with was one of my greatest pleasures.
All he got from me one was one continuous moan as he jiggled, squeezed, massaged, and rubbed; the only time no sound was heard was when his lips were pressed against mine. I opened my legs like a two-bob whore to give him full access, and he continued his heavenly ministration through all ten long kisses. When he'd finished, we both looked down; the menacing tower of flesh that had emerged, looked for all the world like a phallic rock formation found in Turkey's Love Valley, and was surely just as hard.
He giggled as he stood, his own rock formation similarly bothered. "Tyson does it again!" he grinned.
"What?" I asked, exasperated. "You're just gonna leave me like this?"
"Felix will be here in 20 minutes," he reminded me. "We need to shower and dress before he gets here!"
"Shit!" I groaned as I climbed off the bed and followed him to the bathroom.
"I could take care of you in the shower," he smirked as we stepped under the spray, "but I won't. I'll keep you on edge until tonight, when I promise you'll be glad you waited!"
Eventually, the swellings went down, and we dried and dressed with minutes to spare, before Felix arrived and escorted us to the lobby. This time, Kyle was our designated guard, and our driver had an itinerary on the dashboard in front of him next to his GPS.
On this occasion, it was a full house; every member of the touring party was on board for what promised to be an exciting day cruising around the famous sights of the most ethnically diverse, religiously varied, commercially driven, famously congested city in America.
* * *
Our first stop was Manhattan's Chinatown, and we were surprised to learn it had the highest concentration of Chinese people in the western hemisphere. From there, we stopped in Wall Street, which was a metonym for the financial markets of the United States.
Everyone laughed when Ty announced, "It was a great movie!" Mon made sure she got a Facebook photo of Ty and his band in front of the Charging Bull statue in Bowling Park Green, and another outside the New York Stock Exchange.
We were in a more sombre mood as we visited the World Trade Centre, home of the Freedom Tower and the 9/11 Memorial. As we wandered around recalling the horrific event, it was on all of our minds that so far, our island paradise had been spared such unspeakable tragedy; but for how much longer was anyone's guess.
At the South Street Seaport, we boarded a boat and cruised around New York Harbor, sailing close by the Statue of Liberty, France's gift for the centenary of the American War of Independence. Many photos were taken of us all with the robed female figure representing Libertas, the Roman goddess, in the background.
We all chuckled at the reaction from the mostly Asian tourists on the boat with us, when Ty spontaneously broke into the chorus of Little River Band's "Statue of Liberty**:"
Statue of Liberty, yeah, yeah, standing in the harbor This is America, we try a little harder Oh, this is America, ah Give me your hungry, give me your tired Give me your homeless, give me your wanderers Give me your hungry, give me your tired Give me your homeless, give me your wanderers
Back on solid ground, we stopped in Times Square with its bright lights and famous intersection, and then it was onto the theatre district of Broadway. There, we split into three groups: the musos and Gus were happy to visit the USS Intrepid, Vince and Connie chose Ripley's Believe It or Not museum, and the rest of us headed for Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum.
At the agreed time, we all met for a quick lunch, where orders for souvlaki, schnitzel rolls, and steak sandwiches were obliged, as well as Ty's Greek salad and fresh juice.
Tempted as we were to linger over lunch, Felix was determined to stick to the schedule he'd put together, so the moment the last person had finished eating, we were back on board and headed for Columbus Circle.
When our driver parked nearby, it was Ty who asked the obvious. "We're stopping to look at an intersection?"
Felix chuckled. "It's not just any intersection!" he explained. "Columbus Circle is the point from which all official distances from New York City are measured."
"Oh, well that's exciting!" Ty grinned.
Ignoring him, Felix continued, "That statue of Christopher Columbus was erected as part of New York's commemoration of the 400th anniversary of his landing in the Americas in 1492."
"That's nice!" Ty sighed.
Felix laughed. "OK, Ty … Columbus Circle has been featured in many films, including The Devil Wears Prada, Home Alone 2 andDie Hard with a Vengeance," he said. "And it's also the point where the Marshmallow Man starts his trip toward 55 Central Park West in Ghostbusters!"
"Now you're talkin'!" Ty smirked.
As Felix slid open the bus door, he added, "It also leads into Central Park, which is why we've stopped here!"
As we entered the park at its southwest corner, Felix organised six pedicabs, each to carry two people with a cyclist. It was a novel way to get around, and I quietly arranged to reimburse Felix later for the hire costs.
There was no sighing from Ty this time. He was enthralled by everything we saw as we meandered through one of the most filmed locations in the world: the castles, fountains, theatres, playgrounds, and gardens.
Felix had thoughtfully arranged to wind up our tour of the park with a stop at Strawberry Fields, the triangular acreage on Central Park West at West 72 nd Street, dedicated to the memory of John Lennon almost five years after his murder.
Ty was in awe as he walked around silently, and he stood for several long minutes gazing at the iconic 'Imagine' mosaic of inlaid stones; a gift from the city of Naples, Italy.
I walked to stand beside Ty, who eventually looked at me with sadness in his eyes. "I was two when he died," Ty sighed. "It wasn't until I was in my teens that I found out what had happened."
We were quiet for a few moments, before I offered, "In your own small way, you might be contributing to the upkeep of this beautiful memorial."
When Ty looked at me quizzically, I smiled, "The publishing royalties from your recording of "From Me to You" go to Paul McCartney and the estate of John Lennon!"
Ty touched my cheek before turning and walking back to the others. Felix pointed to a building across the road from the garden on the corner of 72 nd Street. "That's the Dakota Apartment building," he said. "It's where Lennon lived, and it was at the south entrance that he was shot in 1980."
Ty looked at the building with the same sadness in his eyes before asking, "Does anyone live there now?"
"Yoko Ono is still there, and their son Sean lives there, too," Felix explained. "It's been home to many entertainment names - Lauren Bacall, Rosemary Clooney, Jason Robards, Judy Garland, Rudolph Nureyev … it's a long list."
When we left the park, I realised Felix had deliberately planned the schedule so that the likely sombreness of our look around Strawberry Fields would be followed by some light relief - window shopping on Fifth Avenue.
We spent a good hour or more checking out the flagship stores of many of the world's most iconic luxury boutiques: Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, Versace, Cartier, Chanel, Ralph Lauren, Ferragamo, Zegna …
Mon saw a handbag in the window of Bottega Veneta that she thought Holly would like. We all laughed when she walked into the store to inspect it, and immediately hurried out. "Jesus … it costs $3,985!" she gasped.
Even Connie, no slouch when it came to designer finery, balked at the prices … much to Vince's relief, no doubt.
In some of the less exclusive stores, we did manage some retail therapy. Mon found an affordable coat that would keep her warm in Sydney's winter, and Connie found a pair of knee-length boots that she said were a perfect match for one of the dresses Vince had bought her in Los Angeles.
Even Vince, a reluctant shopper at the best of times, bought a pair of cargo pants that appealed to him. Needless to say, they were in a bargain bin!
I bought Ty a classic, vintage black leather motorcycle jacket made in New York City. Ty loved the heavy duty brass zippers and snaps, and was looking forward to wearing it in his next photo shoot.
Ty bought me a pair of ultra-soft fleecy track suit pants from the Ralph Lauren store, a purchase met with derision from Vince. "Why spend that much money on something he's only gonna do exercise in?" He said, rolling his eyes.
"They're not for exercising, they're for lounging around hotel rooms in," Ty replied dismissively. "Do you have any idea how spectacular Mike's ass is gonna look in these?"
Felix suggested that ahead of our last two stops, we recharge our energy with some caffeine. He steered us past the New York Public Library to the Andaz Hotel. In the lobby, he organised a table in a stylish coffee shop called simply The Shop. We ordered our coffee variations and enjoyed the chance to sit.
Ty was half way through his long black, when he was approached by two women in their early 20s. They were polite in their request for a photo with him, explaining that they were Sydney-siders on holiday, and were both "mad fans."
I took photos on their iPhones of both of them with Ty, then individual shots of him kissing them on their cheeks. They thanked us, and left in a flurry of giggles, no doubt about to send the photo to all their friends.
"I've been pretty lucky today," Ty sighed, as he sat down. "I'd almost forgotten about fans and photographers."
"That beanie's served you well, mate!" I chuckled. "If you'd let the curls loose, you'd have been swamped."
Our next stop was Rockefeller Center, which Felix explained was a complex of 19 buildings spanning the area between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. We were particularly taken with the older, original Art Deco office buildings, and the more modern four towers built along the west side of Avenue of the Americas.
Ty was content to spend more time looking at the architecture, but Felix was keen to keep moving. "We'll be back here tomorrow," he said. "You can look around some more then, if you like."
When Ty looked at him questioningly, Felix explained, "Rockefeller Centre is where Out Now! is taped."
Our final location was the Empire State Building, which for 40 years had been the world's tallest building. We each bought a ticket and rode the elevator to the 102nd floor observation deck, where the view was stunning.
"This building is famous for the 1930s film King Kong," Felix told us. "He fell to his death from the roof, after being attacked by four military planes. The film saved RKO Pictures from bankruptcy. Fay Wray was wonderful, although Jean Harlow was the first choice for the female lead!"
"You would so love our George, mate!" I chuckled.
"Isn't this where they filmed the ending of When Harry Met Sally?" Ty asked.
Felix smiled. "You're thinking of Sleepless in Seattle," he said. "They both starred Meg Ryan."
"And they finally met on Valentine's Day right where we're standing!"
"Well, not quite," Felix corrected. "That scene with Meg and Tom Hanks, who played Annie and Sam, was filmed on the 86th floor observation deck."
"I was about 15 when that movie came out," Ty recalled. "Mum and Dad took us to see it at the cinema in Warwick. I remember Mum just loved it, because it was so romantic, until the scene where Tom Hanks talks about getting laid. Then she blamed Dad for letting us see an 'inappropriate' movie!"
When we started making our way to the elevator, Ty stopped and asked everyone to go ahead. "We'll meet you in the lobby in a few minutes," he said.
When they'd gone, Ty called another elevator, and we rode to the 86th floor. Walking out onto the observation deck, he looked around for a quiet corner. He found one, and pulled me into an embrace.
"I wanna kiss you here, like they did in Sleepless in Seattle," he grinned.
"OK!" I laughed, before he planted one on my lips.
When he pulled apart, I said, "You know Ryan and Hanks didn't actually kiss in that scene?"
"Oh … why didn't you say?"
"I'd have missed out on a kiss!"
"Nah," Ty replied with a goofy grin. "I only need the flimsiest of excuses to kiss ya!"
When he joined the team in the lobby, Vince looked at his watch. "What were you doing up there?" he asked.
"It's been hours since I had a kiss, Vince," Ty sighed. "I needed a smooch with my well-hung lawyer."
As he turned to walk back to the bus, he groaned, "Faggots!"
* * *
It was getting late in the afternoon when we climbed into the bus, and we were all tired. Felix explained that our last two scheduled stops were New York's most famous church, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and the United Nations Headquarters, but we all agreed we'd rather kick back at the hotel for a while.
En route to the Mandarin Oriental, plans were being made for a slap-up dinner at either a Japanese restaurant on Columbus Circle, or an Italian and seafood place called Gabriel's on the Upper West Side … both apparently within walking distance.
Ty was hesitant. "I might beg off," he said. "I'm a bit knackered, and there's the TV show tomorrow, then the next day is a show day. I think I'd be better off resting my voice."
"So, are you still gonna join us, Mike?" Vince asked. "You don't need to rest your voice!"
I smiled. "I need to stay at the hotel with Ty," I said, "in case he needs help with anything …"
"Like what?" Vince groaned.
"Well, he's tired," I explained. "He might need help in the shower for example …"
Ty nodded vigorously. "Yeah, Vince," he laughed. "What if I slipped and fell in the shower? Shows might have to be cancelled!"
"You could just be careful," Vince sighed. "Use the non-slip mat."
"Yeah, but because I'm tired, Mike may need to wash me!" Ty grinned. "All over … especially those spots where I'm really dirty!"
"Jesus!" Vince hissed.
"So, it's sorted, then," Mon interjected. "We're going out; Ty and Mike are staying in."
Patrick welcomed us back and walked us to our suite. We'd no sooner closed the door, than Ty was stripping off. "I need a shower," he said, by way of explanation.
"I'll pour us some wine," I said, as he walked into the bathroom. I put the glasses on the coffee table and was about to sit, when Ty called out, "Hey, Mike! I nearly slipped!"
I knew my cue! I started disrobing and stepped naked into the shower recess, where Ty immediately pushed me against a wall and kissed me. When we pulled apart, he handed me a bar of soap and said, "Make me really clean!"
I did my best - he was sweaty in all the expected places. When I'd finished, he started washing me.
"You're hardly sweaty at all!" he laughed.
"Yeah, I don't sweat much," I smirked. "Except maybe my balls …"
For the second time today, Ty manhandled my boys; all I could do was lean against the wall and moan … loudly. We both looked down at the belly banana that had suddenly reared its head.
To my disappointment, Ty grinned and stepped out of the shower. "Plenty of time later for him!" he laughed. "I wanna take my time."
As we dried ourselves, Ty was absent-mindedly humming and singing "From Me to You" quietly.
"I think I read that "From Me to You" was The Beatles' first number one hit in the UK," I said. "Is that right?"
"It sure was," Ty smiled, "the first of their 11 chart-toppers in England!"
"It was a great choice for your album, mate!"
"Funny, I was originally thinking of covering "Can't Buy Me Love," but then I played a Beatles singles album, and "From Me to You" jumped out. That's when I thought of including Lach and Scotty, and just hamming it up!"
"It's goes down a storm in the shows," I smiled. "It's funny, because there's nothing really clever about it."
Ty continued drying himself while he disagreed. "I reckon it's a very clever song," he said earnestly.
"Why?"
"Well, you know it's got five verses and two bridges, right?"
I was clueless, but I nodded anyway.
"So, the first half of the fourth verse is instrumental, the last half of each verse is a mini-refrain, and the lyrics of the bridges are identical," he enthused. "See, the verses each comprise short eight measures, played in C-major. Then when you get to the bridge, the song modulates to the subdominant key, which is F-major!"
I was trying not to laugh, because Ty was so absorbed in what he was telling me. We put on robes, picked up our wines, and strolled onto our balcony.
Ty still wasn't finished. "Lennon and McCartney didn't just use tonic-subdominant modulation - they went from I to IV! And the bit I think is really clever is how they used an augmented chord to end the bridge and lead back to the home key!"
Ty stopped long enough to take a sip of wine before getting stuck back in. "And the use of harmonica in blues style was inspired," he smiled as he turned to face me. "Lennon learnt to play it from Delbert McClinton, who was on the same …."
He trailed off and laughed. "You haven't understood a fucking word I've been saying, have you?"
"That's not true!" I said defensively. "I understood 'verse,' 'instrumental,' 'chord,' and 'harmonica.'" As an afterthought, I added, "And I know what 'blues style' is!"
Ty laughed before setting his glass of wine down on the table before doing the same with mine. He put his arm around me and bent me back slightly, as the guys did in those black and white movies George and Max loved so much.
He looked into my eyes, said, "I fuckin' love you, Michael Stewart," then pressed those marshmallow lips against mine in a kiss that - as always - made time stand still for me.
It was such a sizzler, that I swear I saw stars.
At least, I hoped it was stars I'd seen. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if it might have been a flashbulb …