Ever since his one-night stand with big, butch, bisexual Bill, Marty’s been in the hopeless grip of a passionate yet seemingly unrequited love. Housesitting for the object of his affection, all he can do is cry on the scaly shoulders of Bill’s exotic fish ... until he meets the tipsy time-traveler who lives upstairs.<br><br>Arthur Prefect (not his real name) is a refugee from a dystopian time, and he’s pining, too, for the man he left back in the future. Over the course of a drunken evening, Marty dreams up a plan to reconnect the lonely young man with his lost love ... but he’ll need to do more than dream to fix his own future with Bill.

Back from the Future

After I’d got over the disappointment of learning his wee favoretto had nothing whatsoever to do with the contents of his rugged, manly trousers, I was ready enough to say yes. My own little flat, while of course the very zenith of style, had seemed a little lonely of late. Perhaps I should get some fishies of my own? And Bill has, after all, very few dirty habits, and all of them ones I approve of. Plus it gave me an excellent opportunity to live in his flat, watch all his DVDs, and sleep in his bed. What? I’d change the sheets before he got back.


He favored, I found, the gentler sort of porn, and his sheets smelled warm and woodsy.


They smelled of something else after I’d been in them for a night, but c’est la vie. I spring-cleaned his cupboards to atone for any little stains I might have left on the mattress, and then I set off to work. Another tiring day of hawking divine creations of leather to the undeserving public and their ill-kempt feet.


Chapter 2