|Fandom: Queer As Folk
Title: The Irish Patient
Pairing: Stuart Alan Jones / Vincent Tyler (forgot to
say the reason I like 'Vincent' a tiny bit more than
'Vince' is the song, especially the verse with
"Vincent's eyes of china blue" - besides, 'Vince' is
too close to 'Vinnie' for comfort...)
Rating: PG-13 (I simply cannot 'write' sex - please
don't go Freudian on me, I happen to be of Jungian
Spoilers: None at all
Disclaimers: They're not mine. None of them. They're
RTD's. They're fun to play with. He left them stranded
in the middle of the desert...Feel free to sue, I'm
not making a dime out of this, and I'm broke anyway
Timeline Warning: Denial-Fic. No QAF#2. They moved in
together at the end of QAF#1. Because I say so!...
Summary: Stuart fell down a flight of stairs <hehe>
and has a plaster cast on his left foot. He's at home
grumbling. Vince gets to play nurse as in 'nurse with
a long fuse' <hehe>
The Irish Patient
Okay, so he was never going to be the easiest of
people to look after. I knew that the moment he turned
to me as we were driving home from the hospital and he
said "Vince, I'm crippled for life!".
That first night I had one of my better ideas. I told
him he looked like Paul Newman in 'Cat On A Hot Tin
Roof'. His eyes went aglow "You really think so?". So
I had to spend the rest of the night practically
begging him to have Sex with me. And I couldn't even
claim I was pregnant, could I? Still, the sex was
great that night. Built-up tension, says I. To which
his answer his "I bet you'd look really cute as a male
nurse? Where do they sell those things?"
As you can tell, the second day was a laugh for him.
Let me share a secret with you - it was a tremendous
turn on for me as well. I mean, me in uniform, Stuart
completely depending on me for everything... Of course
the fact it was literally 'everything' stole a bit of
the glamour. But we had fun that night, too.
By Day Three, His Majesty was developing a taste for
exotic cuisine. Manchester's well up on takeaways, and
I'm pretty good myself at frozen Chinese, Thai,
Italian, and so on - you didn't think there'd be a
problem. There would actually. He insisted on using me
as a table. Soups were a scalding nightmare, though he
licked me quite gently (gently for Stuart, that is).
Noodles that escaped him were like slimy slithering
serpents sliding down my back (Oh My God! I'm
alliterating! Cool!). As for all things spicy and
garlicky, ask not how you remove the odour, mostly
because you don't. Hazel was nice about it - "if he
can love you when you stink like that I think he's
yours for life" - and beat a hasty retreat after
exchanging a few jokes (on me) with Stuart. Am I
starting to sound bitter?
Well, come Day Four I was bitter. Yes. Precisely.
Like, "really bitter". Not content with using me as
his nurse, valet and food tray, Stuart started wanting
cock with much the same frequency babies want tit. Do
I put it rudely? Well it is rude!
"Vince! Up here now! Unzip!" Eventually he decided I'd
better get rid of those uniform pants and just use
boxers. "But Stuart..." That was as far as I got
before he started his very well rehearsed response
"Fine! Go and leave me here all paralysed! No one
cares, no one gives a damn, why should you? Fuck off
then!" and a little pouting of the lips, filling up
with tears of the eyes, and there I was kneeling by
his bedside, deep-throating, choking, sucking, and
occasionally, out of pure malice, nibbling just a
And so to Day Five. This was when he started noticing
all my 'decent clothes', which he had the generosity
to point out "are not that many to start with" were
starting to reek of strange things, so why don't I go
about without them all. Me: "Because it's freezing.
And what if people come to visit? It's embarrassing"
Him: "I'll keep you warm (evil grin), besides, you
can still use my boxers. And anyone comes visiting you
put on a bath robe or something" Me: "Regular visitors
will think it's funny." Him: "Regular visitors is just
Hazel, a couple of lesbians and our son. They'll know
it's just kinky." I had the (fall from)grace to blush.
All over. Which sent Stuart's cock sky-high,
apparently. Said he wanted to fuck me there and then.
I had the presence of mind to pour the freshly
squeezed orange juice I'd brought him over his more
enthusiastic parts. They cooled down pretty fast.
Stuart's brain unfortunately didn't and threw every
other foodstuff he could grab at me. Most of them hit
me. Back to the shower. I was beginning to harbour
Day Six. The kid's having a tantrum and I don't mean
Alfred. Says my attention keeps drifting when he talks
of his future life as an invalid. Considering the cast
is coming off tomorrow you'd think one might be
excused. One isn't. He takes the first opportunity he
can lay his hands on and lays his hands on me. We're
in bed together. He's on top of me, pinning me down.
What with the cast being so heavy, and him having been
fattening for a week, I stand no chance. He starts by
pinching my nipples. No, not gently
licking-kissing-sucking-twisting. Then he moves up my
body and bites my neck. I start pleading for mercy
when I see where his teeth are heading next. He
agrees. On one condition - that I roll over. I do. He
grabs my buttocks, compliments me on their firmness
and then with superhuman strength sits upright on the
bed, pulls me up and spreads me across his knees and
starts spanking me with his bare hands. Pervert that I
am, I actually start enjoying it just minutes before
He's happy now. Taught me a lesson, reddened my ass,
and generally humbled me. Sleeps like a baby.
Day Seven I drive him to hospital, and discreetly
apply for refugee's status at mum's. I hear one can do
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