Butch: What time do you call this, Harry? Too busy wanking, and lost track of time? Dix and I have been here at the Crown & Anchor since 5 o’clock.

Harry: Give me a break, Butch! Surely, you’ve been late yourself now and then.

Butch: But I always have good excuses. We’ve been waiting for so long, if not for all the hairy eye candy around, we would be bored to death.

Dix: Just ignore him, Harry. It’s not as if you are meeting the Queen for tea.

Harry: Believe me, it certainly felt like it sometimes. Nice to see you, Dix.

Dix: Good to see you, too, Harry. It’s not like you to be late, you’re normally the first to arrive.

Harry: Honestly, I tried to get here as quickly as humanly possible after the plumber has left. I swear, he was deliberately taking his sweet time, so he could ask for more money.

Dix: I understand. That always happens when they charge by the hour.

Butch: Yeah, just like most escorts! I hope he’s worth the money.

Harry: Frankly, I've no idea what’s the going rate, but I bet plumbers charge a hell of a lot more than rent boys these days.

Dix: So, what's up with your plumbing? Is it serious?

Harry: Well, to cut a long story short, the boiler started playing up a few days ago and left us with no hot water. Thankfully, everything is now working again, and the boiler should last a few more years, so I suppose you can say that’s money well spent.

Dix: Glad to hear it’s all fixed now. Replacing a boiler is a big job and ridiculously expensive too.

Butch: I reckon you should have asked for a complimentary blowjob in return for the small fortune you’ve forked out.

Harry: And make you guys wait even longer? Regardless, there’s no way he’s getting anywhere close to my cock, god knows what has been in his mouth!

Butch: It’s not like you, turning down a quick suck. I'm sure you've stuck your cock inside worse places before. Well, you can make up for being late by buying the first round. That’s two beers and whatever you are drinking. Chop-chop!

Harry: What’s the rush? At least, let me catch my breath first. It’s been a complete nightmare not having hot water for the last few days.

Butch: You’ll be in hot water if my beer doesn’t show up soon! Better go while the bar is still quiet before the office crowd shows up. You can tell us all about the plumber and the size of his spanner when you are back with our beers.

Harry: If I didn’t know you any better, I would have thought you’ve a drinking problem.

Butch: In fact, I do have a drinking problem, it’s called the “lack of beer”.

Harry: Oh yeah? Do we have to carry out an intervention and sign you up at the AA? Anyway, don’t you move a muscle; I’ll be right back with your drink, my Lord and Master!

Butch: Finally! Some proper respect.

Dix: Thank you, Harry. I’ll buy the next round. You know, sometimes, I’ve no idea how you guys can be friends for so long.

Harry: God knows. Trust me, I’ve never taken him seriously all these years. Right, I won't be long.

Dix: You know, Butch, you can be a bit of a bully when you put your mind to it.

Butch: Me? A bully? Surely not, I’m a big and fluffy teddy bear, really. So, are you still giving the new barman the eye, Dix? He’s way out of your league.

Dix: Maybe, but I could be the man of his dreams for all you know.

Butch: There’s only one way to find out. By the way, did Harry tell you anything about his plumbing problem?

Dix: Not really, he didn’t mention there’s anything wrong with the boiler when we spoke earlier on in the week. You know, I remember once Ian complained about Harry talking too long in the shower and there’s no hot water left when it’s his turn.

Butch: Oh, the joy of married life! I think that was when they were on holiday in the Alps and stayed in a pretty basic chalet, and I mean cavemen basic.

Dix: I can imagine the last few days must be an absolute torture for Harry, considering how he enjoys long hot showers.

Butch: A bit too suspiciously long, if you know what I mean. I just hope it’s all sorted now. It’s a pain when I had a new bathroom installed a few years ago.

Dix: I’m sure it was. So, did you wash at all? You must smell pretty bad after a few short days.

Butch: And I thought you like your men a bit ripe? Actually, I ended up showering at the gym every day for over a week. That, in a way, has its own benefit.

Dix: Oh, do tell. How many guys volunteered to scrub your big hairy back for you?

Butch: Big fat zero! I yet to come across a single guy who’s my type at that gym. I only use it because it’s close to my home. With my bathroom out of commission, it’s a great incentive for me to get out of bed and hit the weights before breakfast, so I can forget about it for the rest of the day.

Dix: I can’t believe there wasn’t a single chubby guy trying to get fit and lose a few pounds.

Butch: There’s been a few but none really tickle my fancy, and they were definitely straight.

Dix: When did that ever stop you?

Butch: True, but only if they are worth my time. Like most gyms, there’s usually a few muscle Marys or wannabes who are utterly obsessed with their perfect hair and big muscles. It’s so annoying the way they have to stop every few minutes, pose for a selfie in front of the mirror, and instantly share it with their followers in the hope for a few likes in return.

Dix: So, you don’t fancy spotting for them, follows by a little fumble in the changing room?

Butch: You must be kidding, they don’t do anything for me at all. You should know that by now. Given the choice, I’d rather play with their stocky, and porky dads instead. Who needs a six-pack when you can have a full keg?

Dix: Like this one? Ha ha ha!

Harry: What’s so funny, guys? Here are your beers, gentlemen. By the way, have you guys seen the new barman? He’s certainly easy on the eye, isn’t he? And that husky baritone voice! No wonder he got the job after Big Andy left. Has either of you got his number yet?

Butch: Dix had already been checking him out before you arrived. I bet it’s only a matter of time before we’ll get all the gory details of their bedroom gymnastic routines.

Dix: Who do you take me for? I’m not the kiss and tell type. Well, unless it is someone really, really special.

Butch: Are you sure about that? You’ve no problem spilling all the saucy ins and outs of your last daddy bear trick just a few weeks ago.

Dix: Which one do you mean? Regardless, he must be a special one.

Butch: What, there’s been that many you can’t even remember? Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.

Dix: I suppose I set the bar pretty low, and I’m easily pleased. Anyway, judging from my past experiences, all you will hear is our new barman’s “brush off” of the day.

Harry: Never mind. Plenty of fish in the sea. Actually, plenty of bears in the forest is probably more appropriate. Now, before our beer goes flat, what should we drink to today?

Dix: Remember what the big Spanish bear Carlos we met in Sitges taught us to say in Catalan?

Butch: Sure. Something like “Salut i força al canut”, isn’t it?

Harry: That’s right. Salut i força al canut!

Dix: Salut i força al canut!

Butch: Salut i força al canut! That’s a fun holiday, wasn’t it? I can’t wait to go back again.

Harry: So would I in a heartbeat! Sun, sea, and big hairy men everywhere, it’s like I died and went to bear heaven.

Dix: You can say that again, we should do it again next summer. Before I forget, tell us about the plumber, Harry. Was he big, hairy, and looked like the centrefold in a bear porn mag?

Harry: I wish. At least that would make up for him being slow and expensive. I was desperate to get the boiler fixed, but unfortunately, my usual guy wasn’t available until next week because he’s in the middle of a big job. Honestly, I have always hated cold showers.

Butch: Yeah, we were just talking about how you like to take your time in the shower. So, the plumber didn’t show you his large tool then?

Harry: No, Butch. Watching all those bear porn must have warped your mind! As you know, sexy horned up plumbers only appear in fantasies. Trust me, I’ve never met one in real life. If you really have to know, the guy this afternoon was your typical middle-age overweight tattooed blue collar kind.

Butch: He’s right up your street then. Though you like a bit of rough trade.

Harry: Please, I do have some standards and chubby guys are more your type anyway. By the way, his breath smelled of stale cigarettes, and he revealed way too much of his furry arse cheeks whenever he bent down. Judging from the rate he charged, I would have thought he could afford some decent underwear instead of going commando.

Butch: Well, apart from the chimney breath, he actually sounds quite hot. There’s nothing wrong with showing a bit of builder’s crack, in my book.

Dix: Can I have his number? I think the pipe work in my back passage needs some servicing too.

Harry: You’re incorrigible! Frankly, you can do so much better than this plumber. I’m sure eventually you will find a nice daddy bear to take care of all your needs one day.

Dix: Hope so, and in the meantime, I just have to audition as many sexy eligible candidates who cross my path as possible and have fun doing it.

Harry: Quick, lock away all your bears and daddies! Dix is on the prowl.

Dix: Very funny! As if, chance would be a fine thing. After all, I’m not that predatory.

Butch: Stop teasing him, Harry. That’s my job!

Harry: True. And you do it so well. So, how’s life treating you, Butch?

Butch: Same old, same old. Our team has been working on a big software update, so we have been testing and debugging like mad. I’ll sleep easy when it’s released and without any major disasters. Enough about work, so what else have I done since we last met? Nothing special, apart from I went to watch rugby last Saturday. It wasn’t the most entertaining game, England beat Italy convincingly, no surprise there. But if there is a prize for best-looking players, Italy will win hands down. Their props are absolutely sex on legs, if you call those tree trunks, legs.

Dix: I’m jealous. It’s been ages since I’ve been to a rugby match. Did I tell you guys I used to played prop in my school first XV team? It was fun while it lasted, but I certainly don’t miss feeling like being I’ve been run over repeatedly by a tractor the day after every match.

Harry: Really? That’s news to me. I can just imagine you buried in the bottom of a heap of sweaty bodies and enjoying every minute of it.

Butch: And probably do it all over again in the changing room afterwards.

Dix: Come on, guys, be serious. Both of you really need to ease off all the gay porn, or is it my turn to do an intervention? Honestly, all I could remember was collapsing on the bench in the changing room after a game, covered head to toes in mud, barely able to move a muscle, and everything hurt.

Butch: But surely being surrounded by all those testosterone filled guys in different state of undress would lift your spirit, if not something else?

Dix: You would think so, wouldn’t you? But, not to me. The guys in the team were good friends and that’s about it. You see, even at that age, I already have a thing for older men. Then again, talking about older men, I won't say no to our coach, given half a chance.

Harry: Oh, sounded like you had a major school boy crush on your coach! What’s he like?

Dix: I won’t say it’s a crush. Mr Martins was probably in his late 50s back then and still tough as nails despite his age. We used to call him “knuckles” behind his back because he loved to gesture with his big meaty fists whenever he lectured us.

Butch: That reminds me of someone I once knew from the gym. What else can you remember?

Dix: Hmm… He wasn’t too tall but solidly built with a big back, thick arms, hairy forearms, and massive hands. Surprisingly, he could move like a flash for someone his size. Come to think of it, he’s practically the kind of muscle daddy bear wet dreams are made of. I wonder, what happened to him? He must be retired by now and no doubt teaching his grandkids the right way to pass a rugby ball.

Butch: So like me in ten years’ time then? But no grandkids, obviously!

Harry: In your dreams, Butch! This Mr Martins must be a real hunk of a man. I’m surprised you didn’t ask him for any special one-on-one coaching session after school. Not sure if I’ve ever asked, did you come out during your school days?

Dix: Out? Not really. I knew I was different to the other boys since I wasn’t attracted to girls sexually, but didn’t spend too much time dwelling on it. There were plenty of talks in the locker room about doing this and that with girls, but mostly just talk. I generally stayed out of them. I think a couple of my closer friends probably guessed, but I wasn’t bothered.

Butch: I bet loads of girls were after you, thinking you were playing hard to get.

Dix: I doubt it. If there were, I didn’t notice. Everything changed when I left home and started uni when I had opportunities to act on my urges. Once I’ve turned to the dark side, nothing can keep me in the closet, even if you put chains on the doors. Well, you can guess the rest.

Butch: Yes, wish you can tone your “urges” down a bit sometimes, it’s embarrassing. Did I tell you I had a girlfriend for a couple of years at my old school? We never got further than holding hands, but it was convenient to have someone at my beck and call. After school, we went to different universities and eventually lost touch. I could just picture her married with kids and tidying after them all day. Harry, weren’t you outed and bullied for just being gay at school?

Harry: Yeah, wasn’t the favourite time of my life, but it’s all in the past. In a way, I was curious because of my own experience, that’s why I asked.

Dix: I’m sorry to hear it. You don’t have to say any more if you’re uncomfortable.

Harry: It’s OK, I’ve put it behind me a long time ago. Like the old saying, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. You see, several times after class, I let this guy in the year above suck me off on the roof of the school. I was horny, and he was willing, so why not? A few weeks later, somehow words got out, and I was called every name you can think of. I was really pissed off, but it’s like opening Pandora’s box, nothing can be done.

Butch: That’s not what you told me. I thought you did do something about it.

Harry: Well, OK, I’m not proud of this. When one of the school bullies picked on me again, I had enough and just snapped. I punched him so hard, he was taken to the nurse with a bloody broken nose. Unsurprisingly, the name-calling mostly stopped afterwards.

Dix: Oh my god! I’ve no idea you're such a badass. Remind me not to mess with you.

Harry: I’m not sure about badass. I was called to see the headmaster and was given some pointless punishment I could no longer remember. Soon after, I came to terms with being gay and got on with school life. Frankly, teenagers will tease and bully anyone for simply being tall, short, fat, thin, smart, stupid, rich, poor, different shade of skin colour, or sexual orientation. The list is endless.

Dix: Absolutely. I had my share of bullying too, since I’ve always been big-boned.

Harry: I read somewhere, bullies will try to torment anyone remotely different in a desperate, yet ultimately futile, attempt to reinforce their dominance. Deep down, they are the vulnerable ones.

Butch: I can’t put it any better, oh wise one! It's the same at my school, fortunately they had the good sense to leave me alone.

Harry: One silver lining to it all was when I reached uni, I became an active member in the LGBT society and helped a number of guys struggling with their sexuality.

Butch: That’s why we like you, you’re such a saint. Have you ever considered becoming a counsellor? One way or another, I suppose you’re still saving lives every day.

Harry: Thanks, but you know full well I’m no saint! I love my job as a paramedic, saving lives is just part of it.

Dix: What made you choose to be a paramedic?

Harry: That’s a story for another time. Actually, wouldn’t it be fun if we all go to a rugby game? Even though contact sports are not normally my thing, but I’ve no problem watching thirty beefy guys getting physical together. Do they still rip each other’s clothes off on the pitch?

Butch: Come on! Rugby is a serious sport and not some cheap soft-core porn. I must admit, it’s not uncommon to see a bit of bare skin on the pitch. And if you are really lucky, maybe even an eyeful of a nice round butt cheeks, too. Although it’s nearly the end of the season, I can check if any upcoming fixtures are still available.

Dix: That’ll be great, thanks for looking. It’s been ages since I’ve been to a rugby game.

Butch: Do you know there are now gay rugby clubs all over the country and world? There are even annual international tournaments. I bet they are constantly looking for new players just like you.

Dix: Of course I’m aware of them, but are you serious? I’m not sure my knees and body can take the punishments any more. Believe me, I could do without showing up to work aching and covered in bruises everywhere. They probably thought I’ve got into a fight or something. Nowadays, I’m happy with lifting weights a few times a week to stay in shape.

Butch: Just think how many bears you will attract wearing those tight rugby shorts around your chunky thighs and showing off your big bubble butt?

Dix: I can do that anyway without the threat of being tackled by guys twice my size.

Harry: But you’ll miss out on all the actions and camaraderie, on and off the pitch. Right, how come my glass is the only empty one? Since I bought the last round, whose turn is it now?

Butch: You’ve necked your beer quickly! You must be thirsty after the mad rush getting here.

Dix: Don't you fret. I’ll get this round, same again?

Butch: Yes, please. Why do I sense you have some ulterior motive, volunteering to go to the bar?

Harry: Yeah, if you want to go and chat up the new barman, just say so. We won’t get in your way and talk among ourselves. Another beer for me will be great, thanks.

Dix: You guys are terrible. For the record, I’m not that desperate. Three beers coming right up.