Room at the Top

by Jane Davitt

  “Hello?”

  Even the sound of her voice made him angry. “You’re a horrible person, you know that?”

  “Um, what?” April clearly didn’t recognize him at first. “Who the hell is this?”

  “It’s your brother’s boyfriend,” Jay spat. “He’s all fucked up, and it’s your fault.”

  “Jay? Nice way to start a conversation. What do you mean Austin’s fucked up?”

  “I’m pretty sure a lack of imagination isn’t among your many faults,” Jay said. “You can guess. Why do you have to make life harder for him?”

  “Aw, Austin’s little boyfriend got a spine,” April cooed. “That’s so cute, Jay. Seriously, I mean it. You’re adorable.”

  She was so fucking patronizing. “And you’re a bitch.”

  “Oh, I’m hurt.” He could imagine her putting her hand on her chest dramatically. “Was there a point to this? Or can I hang up now?”

  “I want you to start treating your brother like you give a shit about him, or I’m going to convince him not to have anything to do with you ever again. No more bailing you out of trouble, no more money, no more making excuses for you because you’re ‘young.’ I’m sick of it.” Jay realized he was starting to get pretty loud and lowered his voice. “He’s the only person who really knows you who’s still on your side. Do you really want to lose that? Do you want to lose him? Fuck, we both could have lost him tonight.”

  “What? Is he okay?” Now April sounded genuinely worried. “Jay, what happened?”

  “He’s been so stressed out about—” Okay, he couldn’t believe he was actually telling her this, and maybe it would come back to bite them on the ass later. “Look, when you called Liam, he decided he didn’t want to hang out with us anymore. Austin’s been really depressed about it, and he’s been doing some stuff he shouldn’t, and tonight he fell down the fucking stairs. He could have killed himself.”

  “But he’s okay? Did he go to the hospital?” April’s emotion was in her voice, real, and it made Jay like her just a tiny bit despite himself.

  “He’s okay.” Jay suddenly felt tired. Tired and sad. “He just bumped his head. He’s lying down.”

  “I didn’t mean… What stuff he shouldn’t be doing?” The anxiety in her voice answered her own question. “Oh God, is he using?”

  “No. Not really. Not the way you and your friends probably do.”

  “I don’t! I’m not stupid. You’ve got to tell me what he took.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. Not when you’re hell-bent on ruining every chance he has at being happy just because you don’t like that he moved out.” Jay had always held back with April out of consideration for Austin’s feelings, but what was the point? It hadn’t helped the situation. “He’s been acting like an adult since he was a kid, trying to hold the family together. How fucking dare you try to spoil things for him? Grow up, April. Or you’ll lose him. He’s close to hating you right now.”

  “I didn’t realize.” She was crying, not the artificial tears she seemed able to summon at will, but messy, wet tears from the sound of it, hiccupping, catching her breath. “Jay, I didn’t know. I thought he was some creep taking advantage of you both.”

  Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because we’re so sweet and innocent. No. He wasn’t. We wanted him around, and now he won’t even speak to us.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He could barely understand what she was saying through the storm of tears.

  “You’re always sorry, April, but you just keep on hurting people.”

  She made an effort to get her tears under control. He heard her blow her nose wetly and take some deep breaths. “I won’t…won’t do it again. I know I’ve said that before, but I mean it. I just…I miss Austin.”

  “He didn’t go far.” Jay tried to control his exasperation. “You were always welcome to visit. Jesus, April, stop making everything so life-and-death. He moved out. So will you soon. It’s what people do.”

  “I don’t like things changing,” she admitted in a small voice as if she was confessing to a crime.

  “Neither does he,” Jay said, “but things do. That’s life.”

  “I guess he doesn’t want to speak to me?”

  “He’s sleeping it all off, but yeah, better give him some space right now.”

  “Tell him I’m sorry? Tell him I love him too. Because I do, Jay, I really do. That’s why I—”

  “That’s why you can hurt him.”

  Saying it sparked a sudden certainty that Liam loved them. At the time, Jay had been too concerned about Austin’s distress and his own dismay and anger, but looking back, Liam had been suffering too, he was sure of it. The control he was used to seeing from Liam had been assumed, not natural, as if Liam was holding back words he didn’t dare speak.

  Jay ended the call with a woebegone, repentant—for now, at least—April, and went up to the loft. The new diorama he’d started, then abandoned, took up most of the table space, but he didn’t give it more than a glance. Curling up in a sagging but comfortable armchair by the small window, he let himself hope that they could work all this out.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  After an entire day in airports on his way back from a work conference, with the temperatures edging into the nineties, Liam wanted nothing more than a shower, a drink, and his bed. The icy blast various air-conditioners had pumped out had given him a headache, and squinting into the setting sun as he finally drove toward home had exacerbated it.

  Yet here he was taking the road leading past Austin and Jay’s house instead of the one that led to his home.

  He’d been missing them more and more over the past weeks, more than he’d ever expected he would. Half a dozen times, he’d held his phone in his hand, his finger poised to complete a call to one or the other of them. An equal number of times, he’d changed his mind and slipped his phone back into his pocket. What he wanted to say to them—but was determinedly avoiding—was a conversation they should have face-to-face.

  Not that he’d been actually planning on having it.

  He found a parking space a block from the Victorian where they lived and took it. It’d feel good to stretch his legs and breathe in some sun-warmed air, the bright, harsh heat of the day mellowing in the dusk. From the street, the Victorian looked serene, as if the rushing waters of their flood hadn’t left plaster ruined and ceilings sagging. It was built to take such minor tribulations, it seemed to say.

  Liam could only hope that Jay and Austin were equally strong and forgiving.

  Jay’s car was closer to the house, looking better than usual where it sat in the shadow of a neighboring building. God, Liam was tired—not sleepy, but weary to his bones. He probably ought to have gone home instead of chasing this fleeting idea that he needed to see them. He ached with it, the sensation of emptiness left behind so powerful that Liam couldn’t do anything but what it told him, lifting his feet to climb the steep, narrow staircase to Jay and Austin’s apartment. Maybe they wouldn’t be home, in which case he could stumble back to his car and go to his house.

  He could pretend this brief series of moments hadn’t happened.

  He knocked and waited. At first it was quiet, but then he heard footsteps and Jay opened the door.

  “What—um. Hi. Are you… Is everything okay?” Jay asked, and Liam found himself smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks.

  “Yes,” he said. “No, not really. I know I should have called, but I—”

  Austin appeared behind Jay. He looked uncertain and worried, and Liam suddenly felt awkward.

  “Did I come at a bad time?” he asked. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No.” Austin looked at him. “No.”

  Liam scratched his chin, feeling the rasp of stubble. He smelled of travel and hotel rooms, and his clothes were rumpled. He’d always tried to be well groomed, his clothes perfect, around them. “I still should have phoned. I’m sorry. It’s inexcusable, just showing up here wit
hout warning.” He should turn away and leave, but he’d missed them so terribly that he couldn’t make himself move.

  “No,” Jay said. “It’s okay. I mean, I think it is.” He looked absurdly anxious, as if he might accidentally send Liam away with a careless word. It was a relief to Liam to realize Jay wanted him there.

  “Come in,” Austin said, backing up to make room. “Do you want to, um, sit down?”

  Liam stepped inside, closing the door carefully behind him. “Thank you. How…how have you been?”

  “How do you think we’ve been? Terrible. You dropped us like you didn’t care about us at all.” Jay bit his lip, then said, “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “I’m sorry if that’s how you felt,” Liam said, choosing his words with care. “It isn’t true. I do care about you.” He’d been thinking about them constantly. “But I do need to tell you something. And yes, I think I’d like to sit down.”

  If he let himself think about what he was going to say, he’d be terrified, so he forged ahead as soon as they were all sitting.

  “I made a mistake,” he said. He didn’t look down at the floor, but kept his eyes stubbornly on their faces. “I thought that if I told myself I was straight, full stop, it would be true. But the past few weeks…I’ve discovered it’s not that simple. Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you, and all the things I’d like to do with you that we never had a chance to explore.”

  He could see Austin swallow. “What kind of things?” Austin asked quietly.

  “Sexual things.” Liam had come so far, he couldn’t refuse to go the rest of the way now. “Fucking you. I’ve had dreams about it, every night since I ended our arrangement.” The dreams had been detailed and incredibly erotic—to the point where twice he’d woken to find that he’d come in his sleep. “I can’t stop dreaming about you. Thinking about you. And that has to mean something.”

  “Don’t jerk us around here,” Jay said bluntly, and Liam winced at the dual meaning of his words under the circumstances. “I mean, there’s a point to all this, right? If it’s just an apology…”

  “It’s not,” Liam said quickly. “It’s an apology, of course it is—I’m so, so sorry for hurting you, and if it’s any consolation, the past few weeks have been hell for me. But what I’m trying to say is that I want you. Both of you. I want the three of us to be together in all possible ways. If you’re willing to forgive me.”

  Jay’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “You fucking bastard,” he said, voice shaking, and Liam’s heart sank. “You can’t be stupid enough to think we’d say no.”

  It took a few seconds for that to sink in. Then Liam was standing up, and so were Jay and Austin. They hit him from both sides, drawing him into a three-way embrace, their bodies solid and warm against his. It felt so welcoming that he found himself closing his eyes and gathering them close. At least one of them was trembling.

  “Miss me?” Liam asked gruffly.

  “You have no idea.” Jay’s voice was muffled against his sleeve. “God, you smell good.”

  “I smell like sweat and jet fuel,” Liam protested. ”I’ve been on the road for hours.”

  “You smell like you,” Austin said, then pulled back. “You must be exhausted.”

  Liam let Jay draw him over to the couch across from the chair where he’d been sitting, which was surprisingly comfortable considering it looked about forty years old. “How did you even get this up those stairs?”

  “It was already here,” Jay said. He was holding Liam’s hand in both of his—it should have felt strange, but it didn’t. “All of the big stuff already was. It’ll probably be here forever.”

  “Until the building rots around it,” Liam agreed.

  Austin came back from the kitchen with a glass of water; Liam accepted it and drank some gratefully. “Hey, that’s our home you’re talking about, with the rotting and everything.”

  “It’s a lovely home.” Liam attempted to sound diplomatic. “I, for one, am very glad to be here right now.”

  “We’re glad you’re here.” Jay still sounded cautious. “It’s for keeps, though? You’re done with second thoughts? Because I don’t think we can go through all this again.”

  He put his glass down on the table nearby, a battered but oddly charming end table that Barbara would have snapped up to restore if she’d seen it in a junk shop.

  “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

  “I need to hear it a lot.” Austin sat down beside Liam. He looked so tired that guilt washed over Liam in a wave because he knew Austin’s exhaustion was down to him. “I can’t believe you left us.”

  Liam stared down at the rug his feet were resting on, noting the muted red and green color, the vague pattern. “I was scared. Scared of committing to being with you, worried that if I did it could spoil what you two have. And that’s not a reflection on the strength of your relationship. It’s just you were so adamant that you didn’t want a third and I-I respected that, I tried to keep a distance, but…” He needed to look at them. He’d once gone to one knee to propose to Barbara. Now he stood, turned, and sank to his knees in front of them. “I didn’t do a very good job of it. I fell in love with you, and I pushed you away before I told you. I didn’t want to hear you tell me it was impossible.”

  “It’s not impossible,” Austin said, his voice unsteady. “We love you too. It’s new and scary for us as well, but we don’t want to turn away from it.”

  “Sir?” Jay leaned forward. “Please—”

  “Anything,” Liam said recklessly.

  Jay smiled at him, the shy, sweet smile Liam hadn’t seen in so long. “Get up and let us be the ones kneeling?”

  Liam gave that idea the consideration it deserved before nodding. “I can do that.” He rose as gracefully as he could, and a moment later, he was looking down at one fair head and one dark.

  Love and lust and longing—he felt them all in that moment. “God, what I’m going to do to you…”

  “It’s only Monday,” Jay said, a hint of wistfulness showing.

  Liam smiled. “About that, by the way, I’d been thinking for a while that I’d like to see you more often. Not just to, ah, play, but socially. Nothing organized or set in stone, just a meal together now and then, or we could, uh, we could—”

  He broke off, aware he had only the vaguest idea of what they did when they weren’t with him. He knew they didn’t have even as much social life as he did. They were just so wrapped up in each other that though they’d mentioned friends in passing, none had seemed important to them. Austin had his family, Jay his hobby and his books. They were incredibly self-contained. “Is that something you want with me?”

  Jay nodded. “Yeah. I mean, yes, Sir, we’d like that.”

  “A lot,” Austin said with a nod of his own.

  “You can get up now,” Liam said, running his hand over their heads and sighing with pleasure at the freedom to do that without wondering if he was revealing too much. Not that he was going to be soft on them at the next session. Far from it. But it was intoxicating to think that he could kiss them, caress them as well.

  They rose with a grace he’d trained them to show. Austin was practically glowing. Liam saw faint color rise in his cheeks, heard the pleasure and relief rounding every word as he asked, “Did you have dinner, Sir?”

  “I had a sandwich a few hours ago,” Liam said.

  “So did you eat out the whole time you were gone? Because we could order pizza or I could make something here if you’re sick of takeout.”

  Liam smiled, appreciating Austin’s thoughtfulness. “I did have a lot of restaurant food.”

  “Then we’ll make you something.” Austin sounded eager, and Liam could sympathize with that. He needed an outlet for his emotions too, but he was conscious that they were still on shaky ground. They’d forgiven him with a generosity that left him grateful and humbled, but he was realist enough to know that forgetting what he’d done would take longer.
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  “There’s that leftover lasagna in the freezer,” Jay said. “We could heat that up with some fresh sauce. I could make garlic bread. How does that sound?”

  Really, what Liam would have liked would be to sit on the couch between them, his arms wrapped around them, but it was clear they wanted to take care of him. So he sat back, got comfortable, and listened to the two of them working. They were surprisingly efficient and worked well as a team.

  He was nearly drowsing when they called him to the table. He refused the wine Austin offered to open after they’d been eating for a while. “I’d probably fall asleep.”

  “You can do that if you like,” Jay offered around a mouthful of garlic bread. He swallowed. “Stay here for the night, I mean.”

  The sharp inhalation from Austin told Liam that Jay’s suggestion had surprised him, but even as he began to give them the polite refusal that ran against everything he wanted to do, Austin nodded.

  “I wish you would, Sir.”

  Liam sighed. “I want to, but don’t you need your space? Time to discuss this?”

  Austin reached across the table, small enough that it was easy for him to do, and touched Liam’s arm lightly, a look of appeal on his face. “We’ve had weeks to talk it through. Please stay.”

  “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.” Even to his ears, it sounded weak.

  “Wouldn’t be,” Jay told him. “Unless you want to sleep in the spare room, not with us. Then we’re going to have to do laundry tomorrow. That’d be a huge pain in the ass.”

  “You want me to sleep with you?” He’d seen their bed when he was helping them to move back in: large, comfortable, covered in a tie-dyed quilt, the gaudy colors faded to a rain-washed rainbow. It’d looked plenty big enough for the two of them, but…

  “Sleep? Eventually, yes. It can be just that if you’re not ready for more, but we want you with us. You don’t know how much.” Jay picked up his fourth piece of garlic bread, studied it, sighed, and set it back on the plate. “Too full.”