by C F White
Then he’d met Rafferty, who had noticed the prosthetic straight off. It hadn’t deterred him from indulging in unprofessional flirtatious email exchanges, which had led to him asking Kez out. That first date could have been the start of something new. Something great.
Except now, Callum had kissed him. And Kez couldn’t deny that he’d wanted him to. He couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t been thinking, as he’d sat a mere inch away from the man who had been his first—in both the physical and emotional sense—what it would be like now they were both grown men. He’d itched to find out if Callum could still ignite those long-forgotten fireworks that he’d planted in Kez’s stomach. No one had even gotten close to sparking them, let alone produce the full-on explosions that Callum had been able to with one sly touch. Would Callum’s lips still taste as sweet? Would he rage his hands over Kez with the same desperation? Would they both roll and fumble and squeal, then shush each other in fear of being walked in on? Or would they fuck like adults, set free to be as loud as they wanted without the worry of Eve being in the next room?
He’d thought about it all while resisting the urge to edge closer to him, to have their thighs touching. He’d attempted to steer the conversation to something else. He’d asked about the women Callum must have been with, because he’d thought that was what Callum would have done. Now he wasn’t so sure. And it was fucking with his head. Callum did things. Did stupid things. He did them because he thought he had to. That was what Kez had thought back then. That Callum only did what he did with him because he was bored and the alternative was to ruin their friendship. Because he must have known how Kez had felt about him? And all the while he’d also been messing around with the girls on the estate.
Or he’d thought Callum had. He’d been told. And he might as well have ripped out his heart and replaced that with an artificial organ too, because he’d never thought he’d have a use for it again. He’d never had time to ask of course, to get Callum to confirm that Kez wasn’t the only one he fumbled beneath bedsheets with. Why? Because Callum had to be so fucking stupid!
Bleep bleep bleep. Kez slammed his stump down on the alarm and shut his eyes.
He showered with little enthusiasm, dressed with less care and stabbed a comb through his hair with nothing but a laissez-faire attitude. He couldn’t even muster the energy to put on his prosthesis, so he rolled his shirtsleeve up to his elbow and ambled down the stairs.
In the kitchen, he stuttered to a stop when he banged into Callum at the counter, pouring tea into two mugs. He was still in Drake’s jeans, but he’d discarded the top and Kez couldn’t help the mental comparison. Callum had filled out since Kez’d last seen that much of his flesh—his stints of manual labouring had obviously had an effect on his scrawny physique. He was still lean, wiry, but with added grooves of muscles honed from hefting bricks, rather than agonised over in a gym. A few additions of scratches and scars were dotted over the tight skin along his slender back and a scattering of light brown hair trailed from his stomach to beneath the flies that had been left to drape open. No underwear to speak of. He hadn’t swiped any of those from his rummage through Kez’s wardrobe. Which was a crying shame. Kez’d had dreams of Callum wearing his underwear.
As he swivelled to face Kez, the low sun rays beamed in through the window and bounced off the bolt piercing through Callum’s left nipple. Kez blinked then couldn’t help but stare at it while he attempted to moisten his dry lips.
“Tea?” Callum held out a mug. If he’d caught onto Kez’s unease, he didn’t show it.
Dragging his gaze upward, Kez accepted the drink with gratitude. When he sipped straight off, he scalded his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to taste anything for a good long while now, which was another crying shame as the sudden urge for a metallic taste in his mouth all but consumed him.
“Listen, Kez.” Callum rested his hip against the counter and blew into his own mug. Those jeans were in danger of trailing down his hips and Kez wasn’t sure he could handle himself if they did. “I’m sorry. About last night. That was a dick move.”
Kez stared at him, mulling over what that might mean. Was it that Callum hadn’t meant to kiss him? That it had been nothing but Callum doing his usual failsafe method to keep himself housed and clothed? That he hadn’t realised that their kissing had actually meant something to Kez, because it was nothing more than Callum passing the time away, like they’d used to as kids? That he was a dick for doing all that?
“I mean, I know you got this bloke…” Callum spoke to the floor, scraping his thumb along the handle of his mug. He then tried to get into Kez’s line of sight. Kez hadn’t realised he’d been staring southward.
“Rafferty.” Kez half mumbled and half said the name like he’d just remembered what it was. Shit, I am a horrible, horrible person.
“Yeah. Him.” Callum slurped from his mug. “I get that. So, look, if this is awkward or whatever, I’ll just fuck off. I’ll go back to the centre and find out what’s going on. I’m sure they’ll house me somewhere.”
“Is your mum on the tenancy or you?” Kez wasn’t sure why that was the first thing out of his mouth. It was as though he couldn’t address the rest of it.
“Mum.” Callum sniffed. “But I’m sure if I explain shit, they’ll find me somewhere. The rent ain’t too much in arrears, so—”
“Stay here.” Kez clanged the mug on the surface and caught a whiff of salty residue when his shoulder brushed against Callum’s bare skin. It took all his effort not to lick him. “It’s fine. I said it’s fine. So it’s fine. We’ll go through the options later. After I get in.” Kez went to walk away, but Callum grabbed his arm, wrapping his fingers around the stump. Kez met his gaze, holding on to it like Callum was his flesh.
“I’ve done some stupid shit in my life, Kez. You know that. I know that. I can’t erase it. I can’t take it away. All I can do is promise you that I’ll change. You meant everything to me. Everything. And I know I fucked it up with you. The moment that door slammed shut of a night, it was you who kept me sane. Your voice in my head. I need you to know that.”
He let go of Kez’s arm and Kez wished that he hadn’t as he was in danger of collapsing to the floor. Callum had been holding him up and keeping him level. Like when Callum had disappeared from his life all those years ago, him stepping away now had left Kez unbalanced.
“I…I…shit, Cal, I have no idea what to say or do right now!” He rubbed his forehead, sliding his fingers across his temple to invigorate something. Rationality. Reasoning. Hell, even recklessness will do! “I have to go to work. Either wash those clothes or go buy new ones. I can’t have you look like him.” He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a card, slapping it on the surface. “It’s contactless, so go to Primark.”
Callum darted his gaze from the card to Kez, like he didn’t know which had the greater pull. For a moment, Kez thought he might reject it. Hand it back saying he wasn’t a charity case. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded and slipped the card from the surface into his back pocket.
“I’ll be shiny new when you get home.”
Kez smiled, albeit weakly, then said nothing more, to escape the past and head toward the present.
He travelled to work in some sort of bubble, cocooned from the world and the surroundings with nothing but his mushed mind to get him to where he had to be. He didn’t even offer his usual cheery hello to the volunteers on duty, or high-five the cleaning staff, or acknowledge when children pointed at him. He slumped onto his desk and into his work in a daze of indifference. Lisa didn’t seem to notice. And Dr. Rawlings’ brief “Good morning” to them both didn’t even spark a dot of bother for Kez. He’d all but forgotten the words they’d had yesterday. Too much had happened. Far too much.
The tap on the office door made both Kez and Lisa look up toward the noise after having been working in silence for…who even knew how long?
Kez’s chest tightened when he saw Rafferty fiddling with the brown satchel slung over his sho
ulder. He hovered by the open door, dressed in tan chinos and a multicoloured polo shirt—another Ralph Lauren special—and when he pushed his glasses up his nose, he offered up a timid smile.
“Hi, sorry to intrude, but I was passing and we’d said something about lunch…”
Passing? Cardiology Ward? When he worked in Grants, the other side of the hospital and then some? Shit.
Kez checked the time on the computer. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t given the clock a second glance. Nor a first one, if he was honest. Had they said they’d do lunch? Was this the date rearranged? Fuck, I did!
“Right. Of course. We did.” He ruffled the papers on his desk, not to get them in any order as such, but more to show willing. “Sorry, it’s been a full-on morning.”
“We can postpone, if you’re busy.” Rafferty backed away from the office, narrowly missing a mother passing by with buggy and child. He apologised, glowed red then shook his head when meeting Kez’s gaze.
Kez caught Lisa’s amused smile over the barrier. She nodded and waved him off with pointy nails. That meant he had her permission to take a break. It was lunchtime, after all. For a brief moment, Kez hated himself for wishing she’d say their busy schedule wouldn’t allow for such indulgences as food. But when could anyone rely on someone else for help getting them out of sticky situations? Truth bomb right there.
Kez stood. “No, no. I can do lunch.” He slapped the files in his locked drawer and closed down his PC, safeguarding confidential information ingrained even in a hasty departure from the office. “Although, we might have to make it the canteen. I have to be back by two for the next appointment onslaught.” He nodded up to the clock and winced. A forty-five-minute gap for a date wasn’t exactly romance and flowers.
“Of course.” Rafferty’s whole demeanour seemed to shine, though. “No problem. NHS-grade sustenance coming up!”
Kez snorted. “You know we changed from NHS and outsourced to a real catering company a few months back. I’ve had a three-course meal down there that’s been better than anything you can get at Ronaldo’s at the crossroads.”
“Really?” Rafferty widened his eyes behind his lenses as Kez approached him at the door.
Laughing, Kez looped his bag over his arm. “No. That was a joke.”
“Oh.” Rafferty blushed. “Of course. Here—” He held out his hand. “I can take that for you?”
Kez drew in his eyebrows, then shuffled his bag across his shoulder. “I’m good.”
“Right. Of course. It’s just, you have no prosthetic today. Is everything okay?”
“Ever run out of time to do your hair?”
Rafferty stroked a hand through his blond waves and breathed out a laugh. “Yes.”
“Same as.” He angled his head. “Come on.”
They made their way to the canteen, filling the awkwardness with general chitchat about the hospital. Kez pointed out the units and wards that Rafferty hadn’t been shown yet. The hospital was large enough that not everyone knew everything that went on. Rafferty, mostly locked away in an office working through proposals for medical grants and funding opportunities, didn’t get out in to the real workings of the children’s hospital as often as he should. Kez found that walking the corridors of a daily basis gave him a renewed sense of why they were all there. For the children.
The canteen was busy, but not more so than any usual mid-week lunch time. A few tables were being vacated so there was still a chance they could grab a table for two. They ambled up to the serving hatch and, before Kez could grab a tray, Rafferty picked up two. Kez didn’t say anything. The man was obviously awkward enough for Kez to not want to make him feel any worse. He might as well not mention that he was perfectly capable of sliding his own tray along the runway. He put his palm on it as a way to show it, instead.
Kez went for the fish option of curry and rice, and Rafferty went all Brit with his battered pollock, chips and peas. After paying, Kez noticed that Rafferty was hovering and fighting with himself about whether Kez could manage to hold a full tray with plate, cutlery and a bottle of juice across the busy canteen. He could. So he proved it by doing it without a fuss.
Once seated, Kez tucked into his food. Rafferty opened his can of fizzy pop, then leaned over with a smile, picked up Kez’s bottle and screwed off the top for him, setting it back down on the table after. Kez held his exasperation within. It wasn’t worth the fight. He’d had many dates where he’d been treated like an invalid. The best option was to prove he wasn’t by doing stuff and not snapping at those who thought they were being helpful.
“How’s your aunt?” Rafferty asked, obviously hoping to move the date along from general mundane conversation.
“She’s okay. As expected.” Kez swallowed down his rice. “Discharged yesterday. Staying with a friend. They should be letting them know whether anything is salvageable. I doubt it though.”
“No. I guess not. I’ve seen the images on the news. It’s such a tragedy.”
“It’s not so much the stuff. It’s more that the place was her home for so long. Thirty years at a guess. Mine too, for a while.”
“You lived with her?” Rafferty washed down his calorific lunch with the diet drink option and furrowed his brow.
“Yeah. From about seven.”
“Wow. I see now why she’s so important to you.”
“She was my guardian. Still is, I guess. Just not in legal terms anymore.” Kez shrugged. “She saved me.”
“Saved you from what?”
“An orphanage. Or, well, who knows, really.” Kez stabbed at the fish in the mildest sauce he’d ever known to be considered a curry. “She rescued me from the potential fate of not having a life, a future.”
“Where are your parents?”
“Died.”
Rafferty launched his hand across the table, obviously forgetting that the one hand available to squeeze was currently stabbing through a cod.
“I’m so sorry.” He left his fingers splayed on the table.
Kez stared at the hand and did think about taking it, or tapping it, acknowledging it. But for some reason, he didn’t.
“Thanks. I don’t really remember much of them or living over there.”
“Over there?” Rafferty slipped back in his seat, picking up his fork.
“Ghana.” Kez shoved in some rice. “It’s where I was born. Small village. In a weird, morbid sort of way, it was lucky for me that they did die. I don’t think I would have been given the same chances that Eve gave me here.”
“Why’s that?” Rafferty stuttered.
Kez held up his arm. “It’s considered an omen.”
“Oh!” Blushing, Rafferty closed his eyes.
“Some of the smaller villages still believe in that spirit-child stuff. Eve visited her family there from time to time and I guess it could have been fate that she found me and offered to take me back here. I honestly can’t say what would have happened to me if she hadn’t.”
“Kez, I had no idea…”
Kez shrugged. “Why would you? Eve brought me to London, enrolled me in school—something that I hadn’t attended before—and with her help, I caught up pretty quick. She showed me the importance of education and compassion and never let me believe my disability would hold me back.”
Rafferty got a faraway look in his eyes. “She’s truly an amazing woman.”
“She is.” Kez held on to Rafferty’s gaze and allowed himself a proper look. He searched those eyes as though he was trying to find something he’d lost. He desperately willed it to come into view. He wanted to feel it. To touch it. To taste it.
He couldn’t.
“Well, I for one am glad she rescued you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here now.” Rafferty dug into his food, flicking his gaze to Kez and offering a wink.
Kez breathed out a laugh, but not in amusement as such. More doubt.
“And I know this isn’t what I would have had in mind for a first date.” Rafferty glanced around at the hospital cante
en filling up with patients and staff of all calibre. “But I’m still very keen to have a second somewhere less…congregated.”
Kez zoned out again. He was aware that Rafferty was speaking, but all he could do was stare down at his lunch and wonder why…why couldn’t he just shut it off? Why did he always have to compare? Why did any of this have to happen? A few days ago, Kez would have been all grins, all bouncing energy, all sunshine and fricking roses. Now all he had was misery. Regret. And leftovers.
“Are you okay?” Rafferty lowered his head to catch Kez’s eye.
Kez fell back in his seat, dropping his fork onto the plate and heaved out a sigh. He couldn’t pretend. Not anymore. It wasn’t fair. On anyone. Least of all Rafferty. “It’s Callum.”
“Your friend? From the building? Is he okay?”
Scrubbing his hand across his brow, Kez had no idea how to explain the complexities of his and Callum’s past. What to say, what to omit. He just had to say it all. Warts and all. No matter how bad it would look. Rafferty had a right to know. Better is a poor person who walks in his integrity than one who is crooked in speech and is a fool.
“He wasn’t just my friend.” Admitting that was the first step to absolution, he supposed. He’d never said those words out loud and, now, as he did, they didn’t feel as foreign on his tongue as he’d imagined they would.
“Ah.” Rafferty wiped his lips on a paper napkin. “I had a hunch. He was rather…hostile.”
Kez gave a half-hearted lopsided smile, full of sweetened apologies and a strange kind of beguiling fondness. “Yeah, I can imagine.”
“So, an ex?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” Kez groaned from deep within his gut. He’d dipped his toe in admitting the bizarre and, frankly, random friendship he and Callum had had but detailing the whole strange scenario was going to be much harder. He’d buried the memories so deep that they had become more like recurring dreams. But he had to explain. If only to prove to himself that it hadn’t been a flash in the pan, a nothing, a time easily forgotten. So he started from the beginning, “He and I were like brothers. He lived five doors down from Eve. We were friends almost instantly after I moved in. We grew up together. Went to school together. Hung out together. Inseparable.”
