After a horrible accident a year ago, Roy is left to care for his disabled mother. A job he does without thought of reward. Unfortunately, he is also very lonely. Caring for his mother takes up all of his time. What’s more, his father has retreated into his work and no longer has the time to even talk to Roy.
Then one night everything changes. Man’s first contact is made and it’s Roy who has been chosen. But why him? Roy would rather spend his nights dreaming about Hamish then having to accept a request of help from strange beings from another planet.
But that’s just what’s happened. Roy must do something for the aliens, something that will mean confronting his father at his work. What exactly does his Dad do for a living that’s so important to these aliens? As far as Roy is concerned his father is a nobody, just like him.
When the night is through, Roy’s life will never be the same. But something more important than that, he may get his mother back and his dream man in the process…if only he can talk to his father.
"What a night," he mumbled to himself.
"Did you lie there all night?" John asked, shaking his son's shoulder.
"I'm really beginning to worry about you, Roy." His dad's brow furrowed.
"What do you care?" Roy whimpered, now squinting at the morning light that streamed in from the patio doors, hurting his eyes.
"I…I…" John hesitated. He picked up his briefcase and added with a whisper, "I care."
"I haven't seen you for more than an hour over the last six weeks. Did you even realise that, Dad?"
John frowned. "You don't understand."
"I don't understand! I don't understand! Do you even understand what I have to do? Do you? I have no life, Dad." Roy pulled himself up off the floor. "Why do you need to be away so much, especially now? We need you, too."
"I don't have time to discuss this now. I have to go…look, um…I'll try and get home a little earlier tonight. We'll all have dinner together. All right?"
"So you say." Roy glanced over to the whiskey bottle still resting where he had left it on the kitchen table last night. Would he dare take that first drink tonight if his dad broke his promise yet again? No. He couldn't. He had to think of his mum. She needed him. "And if you don't come home early. What then? Am I to spend another night alone because I can't leave Mum?"
John turned away from his son, heading for the front door. "I'll try," he mumbled as he searched for his car keys in his jacket pocket. "Believe it or not, I do appreciate what you do. I--" John turned to look at his son one more time, then gently closed the door behind him.
"We'll see," Roy whispered to himself, feeling the pangs of depression rise up inside him. He shifted his glance to the bottle once more, his brow furrowed. "We'll see."
He realised he hadn't changed his clothes. The smell of himself overpowering, he needed to shower, freshen up before he tended to his mum. He checked his watch. He had time. It was just after six thirty in the morning. Soon it would be time to wake her up and begin his daily ritual.
Roy headed for the bathroom. Soon he was surrounded by steam, something that jolted a memory deep inside his mind. Perhaps it was the gaseous shapes swirling about before him, but he wasn't sure why being here in the bathroom had made him think of the events of last night. In particular, the fact that he had been knocked unconscious but didn't know why. Was this his mind telling him that he probably lost his balance and fell backward? Or was it an animal that had scared him? He wasn't convinced of either explanation, even though he had to admit he was in a bad mental state last night.
He disrobed and stepped into the shower cubicle. The water cascaded over his chest, covering him in warmth. His thoughts turned to Hamish. How he would love to have him here right now. He'd so like to wash him, touch every part of his body with the soap. Feel his muscles, his hard dick. He'd love to kiss his hot, wet lips, then explore that kiss to its deepest level when Hamish gasped for more attention. Roy would do anything to have him here right now, go down on him without question, even take him inside him. Oh, how he wanted Hamish inside him. He didn't want to be alone any more.
Roy was erect. He looked down at his cock. The water made his hardness look sleek and beautiful, especially seeing as his foreskin had retracted and his head was now exposed to the air and water, ready for attention. He cupped his balls, feeling himself how he would like Hamish to feel him. Spikes of ecstasy rose up to consume him like the depression he suffered last night. He moved his other hand over his length, slow at first. He wanted to savour the moment by imagining it was Hamish pleasuring him.