by Helen Juliet
He’d been another one too cool for school, though not a quarter as talented as Fynn. He’d come from America and exuded a fuck-you sort of attitude, but also while managing to keep himself in the top sets of almost all the classes. He’d gone through half the girls in their year, the year below and even some from the year above. Nicholas was embarrassed to remember how many daydreams he’d had imagining Hunter finally noticing him, maybe inviting him to hang out with his mates after school, doing whatever it was the cool kids did.
Nicholas had always just thought he was desperate to be friends because then that would make him cool too. But ‘friends’, to his mind, had meant Hunter talking with him, sharing private jokes at the back of the classroom like he did with his other cronies. Nicholas hadn’t seen him since they’d both gone to different colleges to do their A-Levels at the age of sixteen. Now, with a few years gone by, he was pretty sure that Hunter was a wanker and bully, and would probably have been a lousy friend. But it hadn’t stopped Nicholas imagining just the two of them, hanging out in his room…
What if he was there in his room right then. He bit his lip, and considered it, picturing Hunter and his mop of light brown hair and perfect smile, the way his jeans always clung to his hipbones like they might slip at any moment. How would it feel if Nicholas was to roll over on his side, and have him there beside him?
For a split second, as he turned his head and looked at the other pillow in the gloom, he imagined it to be Fynn. But that was way too close to home right then. No, if he was experimenting, Hunter seemed like a safer option.
He had his phone still gripped in his left hand, and he didn’t want to move too much least he break the cloud of lust that had settled over his skin. He just closed his eyes, and let his right hand slip under the covers, trailing down the t-shirt he was wearing over his chest. He imagined Hunter would be the kind to smile a lot when he was making out. He’d laugh softly and sweetly as Nicholas’s breath hitched, giving him little fluttery kisses like he used to do to the girls that sat on his lap in the common room.
Nicholas let his fingers tease the edge of the elasticated waistband of his boxers. Just to test, he tried imagining it was Ash’s hand, that she’d crept down from that attic room to see him. But even picturing it made him grimace, dampening the fizz in his abdomen. Maybe Ash wasn’t the right girl; and he briefly thought about the lovely Gigi in her leather outfit from the ‘Bad Blood’ video. Nothing really tingled for him, so he went back to Hunter.
Hunter had had beautiful hands. He didn’t do anything particularly useful with them, like play sports or make art, or even write much down. But they’d been big with long sturdy fingers. Nicholas let himself squirm a little, envisaging his hand dipping below Nicholas’s boxers, stroking over the tight curls that crept up from between his legs, reaching down until-
Nicholas jerked so hard he was in danger of falling out of the bed. His phone had pinged, vibrating in his hand to alert him of a text message.
He sucked in a lungful of air and shook his head, irrational guilt flaring in his chest. He was allowed to wank in his own bed for crying out loud. But when he saw Fynn’s name on the screen, he felt a flurry of a whole bunch of emotions on top of the guilt. There was excitement at seeing his name, bewilderment that he’d be awake as well at this time of night, and then another fresh wave of guilt. Except, he couldn’t work out if it was guilt over almost touching himself while thinking about him…or that in the end he’d been thinking of someone else.
That was beyond ridiculous. He wasn’t – what? Cheating? That was an utterly stupid notion.
Still, he righted his boxers and smoothed down his t-shirt before opening the message.
‘Hey, yeah, no sweat, they’re here. Wanna swing by tomorrow and get them? Any time before 4pm. We can jam again if you like :)’
Nicholas blinked to make sure he was reading it right, then leant over to get his glasses just in case. Not only had Fynn replied, promptly, in the middle of the night, but he’d used more than one or two words. In fact, he’d used over two dozen (not that Nicholas counted). And a smiley face.
Nicholas’s chest thumped a bit louder than normal as he started tapping a reply. He was glad no one else was there to see his ridiculous grin. ‘OMG thank you! I’m so relieved :) I’m such a fucking moron, I’ll come over as soon as I can. Thanks again :)’
He breathed out in relief as he sent the message off. It was okay, he hadn’t fucked something else up.
The text alert made him lift his phone up from where he’d rested it on his chest. ‘You’re not a fucking moron. I kicked you out. My fault.’
Nicholas read the words several times. They were short, but there was something sort of sweet about them too. ‘Lol, thanks, but I’d firmware my head if it wasn’t screwed on, I swear. So how come you’re up so late?’
He really needed to start reading his messages before he sent them.
‘Forget!! Not firmware, jeeze auto correct, how’d you work that one out?’
He stared at the screen, until the little dots started bouncing up and down, indicating that Fynn was replying. ‘Haha. Got in from work, then started watching Netflix. Always dangerous.’
‘Oh yeah, but I love it!’ Nicholas quickly typed back. ‘Watching anything good?’
‘Daredevil.’
‘OMG, I LOVE DAREDEVIL! Which season? I love the fight scenes, so well choreographed, and the writing and acting and directing is all so good.’
He began to glare at his screen as the response was not forthcoming. But after a few minutes spent with his heart slowly creeping into his mouth, he exhaled as the dots started dancing again.
‘Very good. Just finished an episode. Gonna head to sleep if you’re gonna be around. Text when you’re on your way.’
Nicholas smiled. Fynn wanted him to come over, and he was going to sleep so he’d be refreshed so they could play again. That didn’t sound like he was terribly pissed off with him. Kind of the opposite.
‘Yeah, good idea. I think I’ll do the same now I know I don’t have to trawl through all of St Albans tomorrow lol. Thanks again, sorry for being a bother. See you tomorrow.’
‘You’re not a bother ;)’
That had come so fast, Nicholas almost missed it as he went to lock his phone and go back to sleep. He let the words soak over him. You’re not a bother. But he was; he was a pain in the arse who’d forgotten to book a harpist and left half a dozen silk ties lying around like old rubbish. What did he say to that? How did he translate the warmth that had settled on his chest like a purring cat? (Not a cat like Archibald, obviously. A nice one. A kitten even.)
In the end, he just went with a simple smiley. ‘:) Night night x’ He chose to put the kiss on, and held his breath.
‘Night night x’
Nicholas’s jaw dropped open. He held the screen right in front of his nose, and peered through the curved lenses of his glasses. What did that mean? Had Fynn sent him a kiss, too, on purpose? Goose bumps flurried over his skin as he finally let the screen go blank, and he rested the phone once more on his bedside table, along with his glasses.
What if he’d done it on purpose?
It took a long time for Nicholas to fall asleep again, what with all the thoughts chasing around his head. But eventually, he figured it was okay if, just in the privacy of his own head, he pretended that Fynn really had sent him a kiss, and meant it.
***
Thanks to his late night, Nicholas slept through everyone leaving for work again. He was grateful for the rest though as he stretched and rolled out of bed to relieve himself in the bathroom.
When he got down to the kitchen, he was met with the site of Kinny washing up in the same colourful pyjamas she had worn the last couple of days. She was bouncing along to the radio, and even from behind Nicholas could see how that made her boobs jiggle nicely without a bra.
He glanced inwardly at himself, probing for any kind of excitement. Nope. Nothing. Like it or not, he was pretty sure the
crisis he’d been going through the past few years had finally come to a head. I’m gay. Wow. That wasn’t the kind of realisation you faced up to every day. He had to admit there was something freeing about admitting it to himself.
Ash was at the table in her usual tiny PJs, her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched Kinny dance to Rhianna, a faint smile on her face, her fingers wrapped around a cup of tea.
“Morning,” said Nicholas cheerfully, going to the fridge.
Ash jumped so badly she sloshed her tea all over the table, and she leapt from the chair so as to avoid it running into her lap.
Kinny turned around and laughed kindly. “Oh dear,” she tittered, then bent over to wipe the tea off with the washing up sponge. “Morning Nicholas, you sleep alright?”
She seemed totally oblivious to the beetroot shade Ash was turning, and Nicholas frowned at her in confusion. What on Earth had that been about. “Yeah, great,” he said. Which, apart from the fright he’d given himself, was the truth. He was still buzzing from his chat with Fynn, and couldn’t wait to see him later on.
He felt like he had permission to be excited now. Even if it was solely kept private for the time being, it was scintillating to allow himself a little hope of something more with Fynn.
“I need to get to work,” Ash announced, loudly. She stood with her hands in fists by her legs, stiff as a board as Nicholas and Kinny turned to look at her. She looked between Nicholas and the fridge. “Don’t go in the bottom drawer. I had to bring some work home with me. Some of it’s not stable.” Then she spun on her heels and all but sprinted out of the kitchen.
Nicholas blinked. Surely she was joking? But he opened up the fridge door, and found the vegetable drawer on the right had been emptied. It was now filled with several neatly stacked petri dishes. His eyes widened. That really couldn’t be okay. Also, his theory about Ash working in retail was obviously way off the mark.
He looked back at Kinny to see if she found this as bizarre as he did, but she was preoccupied with the suds in the sink. “That’s um, a bit odd, right?” He nodded into the fridge.
Kinny just chuckled though, and didn’t look up from the washing up. “You must have really scared her,” she said. She must have though he meant the way she’d jumped and sloshed her tea. Which had been a bit off as well.
Nicholas shrugged, not quite sure what to make of it. “You know we have a dishwasher?” he said, changing the subject.
“Nah,” Kinny said. She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at him. “When it’s only a couple of things, you might as well get them sorted right away.”
Nicholas couldn’t say he agreed. He felt dishwashers were there for exactly that reason – to be loaded up with as much as possible, until nothing more could physically fit, then all you had to do with shove in a tablet and press a button. Easy.
It was sweet that Kinny was such a conscious houseguest, so he didn’t say anything. No way his mates Trev or Jones would be that thoughtful, he knew.
“Everyone leave okay?” he asked as he fished out the milk bottle and closed the fridge door.
It turned out there had been no drama that morning, but there was still a bit of tension left over from the night before. Although Kinny said it nicer than that. “Danielle was still worrying a bit,” she admitted.
Danielle had lost the plot just a tad last night when she had realised the bridesmaid dresses were missing. Nicholas and the girls had been fully intending to tell her, and everyone else, about what had happened with Archibald. But at Danielle’s near-immediate hysterics, the three of them had unanimously bottled it. Kinny had done a great job smiling it off, saying they were at the dry cleaners, but Danielle couldn’t seem to get over the fact that they had made a wedding decision without consulting her.
“I just don’t know what you were thinking?” she kept saying all evening.
She laughed every time she said it, but it was too high pitched for Nicholas to trust that she was really joking. Peter did his best, plying her with several glasses of wine and praising her on the excellent job she’d done on finalising the table plan display board for the guests when they walked into the room. He was going to be a good brother-in-law, Nicholas could tell.
Thankfully, that little to-do had the unexpected benefit of making everyone too distracted to notice the ties were also missing. If he had any luck, Nicholas would be able to get back from Fynn’s house before anyone thought to ask, and he could just claim they had been kept safely in his room the whole time.
Once he’d had a simple bowl of cereal for breakfast and finished chatting with Kinny, he took himself off to have a proper shower, complete with a thorough shave. Fynn might have been able to get away with stylish stubble, but it just made him look scruffy.
He picked out another favourite t-shirt to pair with a chequered shirt he had got for his birthday a few months ago. He even dug through his drawers to get out an old necklace he’d picked up on holiday last year. It was just an adjustable leather thong with a silver pendent in the shape of a symbol that apparently meant ‘truth’. Although Nicholas was aware that could have been the locals having a tourist on, and it probably meant ‘canoe’ or ‘dog’. But it was kind of cool, and he thought maybe Fynn might like it.
He finally got to put his contacts back in. After several days without them, his eyeballs had been grateful for the respite, but his nose was getting that mark over the bridge that he didn’t like. He fussed over his hair, and even put on some aftershave he’d left behind when he’d moved out into uni halls in September.
“This isn’t a date,” he muttered to his reflection as he put bio oil on his scars. But he smirked back at himself. Maybe not, but it wasn’t really professional either. It definitely felt like they were meeting up as friends.
He snatched up his phone from his bedside table and unlocked it to send a message to Fynn letting him know he was on his way. He already had a text waiting for him though, and for a second he hoped it was Fynn. But it was Trev, also back home from uni, wondering if he was going to join them going out in the evening.
Nicholas dithered in deliberation for a while wondering how best to reply. One the one hand, he’d quite like to see his school friends, it had been a while. On the other hand, going to a club wasn’t really what he fancied at the moment, he’d much rather go down the pub for a chat rather than thrust himself into a packed, sweaty crowd and attempt to dance. Plus, with the wedding coming up, it didn’t really feel right to go out and party.
In the end, he mostly told the truth. ‘Would be great to see you, but wedding stuff is hectic. I’ll let you know :)’
Then he tapped out a quick note to let Fynn know he was leaving, and would probably get there in about half an hour.
Unfortunately, it was still pouring with rain from an iron-grey sky. Nicholas stared forlornly up at it from the threshold of the front door, and sighed heavily. The best he could do was put a more waterproof pair of boots on, and walk quickly.
He’d already explained to Kinny that he was going out for a while to see a friend. It was their last day before everyone else’s annual leave kicked in and the place became a madhouse again, so she was happy to be left alone to get her marking and planning done, encouraging Nicholas to go have fun. Nicholas said he’d try, a shiver of anticipation flurrying over his skin.
With a yell goodbye, he slammed the door and trudged out into the rain. At least he had his music on his phone to keep him company, and he put the whole lot of random so it could surprise him as he made the journey across town.
He could get a bus for part of the way, but the rest of the route was a bit convoluted, and left him sloshing through the deluge. This better bloody clear up by Saturday, he challenged the universe as he shivered outside Fynn’s apartment complex once more.
He answered the intercom himself this time, after only a few seconds. “Come on in,” came his low voice over the speaker. He also let him promptly through the second door, and was waiting by the flat�
��s front door with a lazy half smile. “You lose your glasses?”
Nicholas paused in front of him, and then realised Fynn had only ever seen him in his specs until now. “Oh, no,” he said, a little breathlessly touching his face. He wasn’t sure if it was more from the run up the stairs, or the fact the Fynn had noticed a change in his appearance immediately. “I’ve got my lenses in today – it’s easier with the rain.”
Fynn nodded in understanding. “Still tipping it down then?” he asked, indicating the dripping umbrella that Nicholas trailed behind him as he entered the flat.
“Yeah, sorry,” said Nicholas. He handed it over when Fynn offered wordlessly to take it, and quickly unzipped his boots in the hallway where he’d left his trainers the day before.
Fynn chuckled. “You apologise a lot, did you know that?” Nicholas blinked at him. “It’s not your fault it’s raining, is it?”
“Yeah,” replied Nicholas with a frown. “But, I am dripping all over your aunt’s floors again, aren’t I?”
Fynn propped the umbrella up in the corner of the untidy kitchen. “Sure, okay. Cup of tea?”
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” said Nicholas with a shrug, and followed him in. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the living room. “Is your aunt home?”
“Why, do you want to apologise to her too?” Before Nicholas could feel the sting of the barb though, Fynn glanced over his shoulder and winked. “She’s teaching today.”
“Oh,” said Nicholas, uncertainly. “But it Easter’s holiday?”
The kettle boiled and Fynn concentrated on making to mugs for a moment. “Milk? Sugar?”
“One sugar, lots of milk.”
Fynn nodded, making one mug to Nicholas’s specification, and the other the colour of mud with only the barest hint of milk. “Ellen’s a lecturer, at one of the London unis. I think she has a guest conference in this week, visiting from far and wide.” He smiled as he handed Nicholas his weak tea. “So we have the place to ourselves.”
