I'm so sorry.
Luke was gone by the time he woke up the next morning,
the barest hint of his shower gel and his cologne lingering in the bathroom.
There was coffee in the pot, a post-it note with a smiley face and a heart on
Nick’s favourite mug and two cinnamon rolls keeping warm in the oven.
He couldn’t help the smile, even as his stomach sank in
disappointment. Ok then. Let the day commence as usual.
It wasn’t that he didn’t miss Luke when he was gone,
because he did, but he knew what Luke’s work was like, knew what Luke was like,
and was aware that until Luke was satisfied with his work, he would continue to
try and make it perfect and there was nothing Nick could do to distract him
from it.
He snorted into his coffee, thinking of the night before.
Ok, so that wasn’t entirely true, he supposed, there were
plenty of very pleasurable things he could do to take Luke’s mind away from his
job. But while Luke wouldn’t resent him for the distraction, Nick knew that he
would blame himself for any delays at work, even if it was perfectly normal for
contracts and things to take time. Bureaucracy always did.
But the thing was, the
thing was, Nick was stupid when it came to his heart and he knew it. He
held on when it would have been better to let go.
And late nights at the office were understandable, but
this many late nights? This many phonecalls? But he always let Nick know what
he was doing. The affection was there, passion still burned, but he thought
that maybe it was love and Luke…
Luke was busy.
He didn’t let himself think about it.
Luke wasn’t Richard.
Richard was at the Epiphany again.
Nick stuck to the bar again.
“Third time this week,” muttered Edo, slicing lemons like
he wanted to stab someone with the knife, “It’s like the fucker doesn’t have
anywhere else to be.”
Two guys fell into the bar, giggling at each other, hands
barely leaving each other.
“This just sucks hairy balls, amigo.”
“Hey,” one of them slurred, “Four shots of Jager!”
Edo nodded at them, putting the knife down with more
force than necessary, “Coming right up.”
Bo came over, fuming.
Nick waited for her to come over before offering his
drink, “You ok?”
She shook her head, “I hate him. Where does he get off,
flirting with me, trying to dance with me?”
Nick shrugged, playing with his glass of Diet Coke, “He’s
a dick.”
“He’s fucking up my mood. I can’t dance when I’m pissed
off.”
Nick let out a slow breath, trying to let out some of the
tension in his shoulders, “But he hasn’t done anything that would legally allow
us to throw him out of the club.”
Edo pushed their drinks over to the guys, who were none
too subtly eyeing Nick, and took their money, “Believe me, Linda’s trying. She
has the guys from her law firm on it.”
Linda was scary when she was motivated.
“Yeah well,” he said, pushing his glass into Bo’s hand,
“Until then, I’d better do my job,” He turned to the two guys, who had just
downed their first shot, “Boys, a dance?”
Bo frowned at him but drank his Coke as she watched him
lead the drunk guys onto the dance floor on the opposite side of the room from
Richard.
He could see him, dancing with some guy who looked like
he was enjoying himself. He didn’t know who he was dancing with, which was the
point. Nobody knew anything about the strangers they were dancing with, most
people would move on and not look back. Most people didn’t end up like him and
Luke – though he knew Edo had a hand in that.
Richard could find not yet corrupted youth here, play his
mind games and twist them and it was terrifying how much just seeing him
brought back all those feelings of betrayal and hurt and heartache.
He didn’t have to have any contact with him, but he needed to see where he was
at all times.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to run away anymore when he
saw Richard, it was just that he had decided the fear – the stuttering halt of
his heart than then began to beat five times quicker than it should, the
collapsing of his lungs, the shaking of his legs – wasn’t as important now. As
long as he could see Richard out of the corner of his eye, keep tabs, then he
didn’t have to cross paths with him or talk to him or be touched by him. It
wasn’t ok, but Nick was going to deal with it, because he was an adult. Because
it had been a long time and he wasn’t one to wallow in the past forever.
Because his arm had healed and he had moved on and he was happy.
He was. He just didn’t know how long he would stay that
way.
Luke was never home. While the heating still wasn’t fixed
at the flat, the landlord had provided everyone with space heaters which worked
well enough to keep everything just this side of warm enough.
Nick preferred being slightly too cold to being alone
every night.
He took more shifts at the Epiphany, tending bar more
often than not, learning some of the cocktails Edo had petitioned to put onto
the menu and laughing with JT at the competition Edo and Sandy still had going
over who got the most offers in one night.
He only had to serve Richard once, and he was proud of
himself for handing over the pint of bitter and taking the money out of his
hand without flinching at the contact. He felt alright with the width of the
bar between them, Edo at his side. And Tank looking over to check with him
every so often.
It was nice to know that despite not being able to
physically get rid of Richard until he did something, the Epiphany staff, his
friends, would look out for him.
He and JT hung out a lot more now. He’d forgotten how
much fun doing nothing with JT was. He was mellow, but got really excited when
it came to the things he loved.
JT made a roast dinner, they had a Buffy marathon, wrapped
in their duvets while drinking Baileys and hot chocolate, and they talked
through Joss Whedon’s inability to let any couple stay happy together. They
couldn’t think of any couple that had made it past any of the finales.
JT didn’t ask why Nick was home when he had a boyfriend
whose flat wasn’t sprouting icicles, but he did make sure they didn’t run of
out of fish fingers, which in JT-speak was practically an all-night comfort
session.
It took Luke four days to notice Nick was no longer in
his bed when he got home at night.
“I thought maybe you had shifts at the Epiphany, but you
don’t do shifts on Wednesday nights unless you’re covering for someone.”
Nick shrugged ineffectually, phone propped between ear
and shoulder, running through his To Do list on the laptop.
“Yeah, I went,” back to the flat, where he wasn’t
reminded of Luke’s continuous conspicuous absence all the bloody time, “home.”
“Did the landlord fix the heating?”
“Not really, but we’re warmer than we were.”
“Good, good.” A pause, “You ok?”
“’m fine. Just tired.”
Luke choked on a vowel before starting a different
sentence, “Are you very busy?”
“Just work stuff. There’s a lot to do now I’m reaching
the end, a lot to worry about.”
“You shouldn’t worry, you’re going to be fantastic.”
Luke always thought Nick was amazing. Which was nice,
because it meant there was always someone in his corner, but in this case he
needed critical analysis, needed someone to question his research. Thank God
for the guys in his department.
Nick gave his notes a half smile, “I’ll still worry, but
thanks.”
“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you want to come round?”
There was a murmur in the background, a woman, maybe one
of Luke’s colleagues?
“No, that’s ok. I’d just be by myself, wouldn’t I?”
He didn’t quite manage to keep the bitterness out of his
voice. He didn’t try very hard.
Luke groaned, “I know, I’m so sorry. At least you were
warm, right? It’ll be over soon, I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Yeah?” Nick perked up slightly, “How soon is soon?”
“This madness should be over next week, week after tops.”
“Alright,” he was feeling generous, “You can make it up
to me.”
“Excellent, thank you. I am really sorry about this. Have
you got a shift on Friday?”
Nick flicked through his mental agenda, “Not this week,
it’s ladies’ night. I’m not on, no men allowed.”
“I bet Edo loves that,” he chuckled, “But if you’re free,
how about you come round?” Luke wheedled, “We can watch some really bad
television and eat Chinese food.”
“That sounds really tempting, actually.”
There was only so much astrophysics even he could stand
in one go, really. A break sounded good.
“Come round. I’ll be there as soon as I can, 6ish? Let
yourself in, it’s basically your flat too.”
Not quite. Having the key wasn’t the same as living
there, but he decided not to mention it. The fact that he had a key was already
quite big by itself.
“I’ll be there. Shall I order food before you get back?”
“If you would, that’d be awesome. I’m always starving
when I get home.”
Nick smiled. This was more like it. He had been worrying
over nothing. Luke was just busy.
“Alright,” said Luke, as the voice in the background came
back, louder, “I’ve got to go. It’s presentations ahoy at the moment, so all
hands on deck.”
“Go,” Nick laughed, “Before any more pirate words come up
in conversation!”
“Ay, right you are matey,” he gave up on the accent
halfway through the sentence, laughing it off. Someone in the background
sounded irritated. His voice got quieter, warmer, “See you on Friday.”
“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” There was a snap of his name in the background,
“Coming, coming!”
Click.
His laptop fan whirred sadly at him.
“Yeah, I know,” he told the empty kitchen, “I’m so
screwed.”
“Sex on the Beach, please. Wait, make that two!”
Thursday nights were student nights. In a lot of ways
they were better than other nights, because the entire club’s age shifted down
a few years, the music got more modern and they needed less encouragement onto
the floor. On the other hand, young minds and plenty of alcohol meant plenty of
stupid decisions.
Nick smiled at the girl in front of him, nodded to show
he’d heard, and turned to start her order.
Richard was hitting on a guy who couldn’t have been any
older than Nick was when they had met for the first time. They were dancing in
a corner by themselves, close to a wall, looking quietly intimate despite the
masses at varying stages of drunkenness all jumping up and down in time. He
could see them without having to turn his head and he was getting more and more
concerned as they got closer together, as the kid – Christ, he must have been a
first year, he looked so innocent, so young
– made an awkward gesture with his hands, blushed, was reeled in by the charm
of having an older man interested in him.
He slammed two glasses onto the counter with more force
than strictly necessary, ice clanking satisfyingly.
Nick remembered that. The flattery, not feeling deserving
of all the attention, the praise the kid was probably getting – so mature for your age, so lovely, you’re
amazing, can I kiss you?
The kid looked needy, vulnerable. Too young. He let
himself be pulled into a kiss that was far too sweet to belong in a club.
Vodka and schnapps.
Nick remembered that too. The new and exhilarating
feeling of being worshipped. How a kiss could mean everything, how revered it
could make him feel even when actions and words told him the opposite, how
Richard’s touches had made him feel adored for so long even when Richard
himself made him feel like dirt on the bottom of someone’s shoe. Maybe that had
been wishful thinking, part of the desperation of not wanting to let him go.
Juices. Stir. Hand over, remember the smile.
Three years was a long time to be messed around with. And
a broken heart was worse than a broken arm. At least the body responds to
painkillers.
He took the girl’s money, counted out her change and
glanced up and down the bar to make sure no one else was looking to order.
Nobody was. They had reached the post-midnight lull. It wouldn’t last long, but
was a feature Nick had learned to enjoy on busy nights.
He looked back over to the darker corner of the club.
The kid had curled a hand into Richard’s shirt, the other
was laced with his, the both of them gently easing themselves to lean against
the wall, whispering into each other’s mouths.
The kid didn’t know. He needed to be saved.
He had to step in. He
did. It was no use letting the others fight his battles for him, nobody
else would get through to him, but maybe Nick would have enough leverage.
He took a deep breath, stepped back from the bar and
signalled Eva he was taking five minutes.
Time to see if The Dick had grown a conscience.
Or hope that the guy he was flirting with had a better
sense of self-preservation than Nick had had at his age.
He walked across to them before he could think about it
too much, clenching his fists.
Here goes nothing.
“Hey,” he said, tapping the kid on the shoulder, “You do
know this dude is pretty much three times your age, right?”
The kid stuttered and looked between them, taking a step
backwards and biting his lip, but he didn’t let go of Richard’s hand.
“It’s ok, Jamie,” said Richard, still leaning against the
wall, “I’ll find you later. I need to talk to Nick here.”
The kid scrambled off somewhere, probably to find his
friends and update them on the drama.
“Nicola.”
Dick.
“Richard. Still starting young, I see.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now that it was just the two of them
his stomach was doing painful little jumps and his heart started beating too
fast.
“We were just talking.”
“Right. Getting a head start on those mind games. Still
married?”
“Divorced, actually. But then again, you already knew
that, since you helped it happen.”
Fear was replaced with anger.
“Excuse me? You cheated on your wife with me, and her
finding that out is my fault?”
Richard pushed off from the wall, taking a step closer,
but Nick put a hand out to stop him before he broke through into personal
space.
“Don’t you fucking try and intimidate me. Jesus
motherfucking Christ, what’s wrong with you? Like you didn’t do enough damage
the first time.”
“It’s not my fault you fell.”
“Not your – fell?”
Was Richard deliberately trying to provoke him? “I was in a cast for eight
weeks. I had a concussion. They had to replace one of my bones with a titanium
rod. I had to do physiotherapy to regain muscle control. All because you pushed me down the stairs and then ran
like a fucking coward.”
Richard shrugged, deliberately casual, “That’s not how I
remember it.”
Motherfucker.
Nick punched him as hard as he could.
Richard doubled up in pain, nose bleeding. It probably
wasn’t broken.
Damn. Nick never had known how to punch properly. Maybe
he should have started taking boxing lessons.
Richard straightened up, brought a hand up to his nose to
catch the blood, “Feel better?”
Nick flexed his fingers, the throb a great reminder of
what he had just done. He hoped there would be a bruise in the morning.
“Yes, actually. Now get out of my club before I get the
bouncers.”
Richard raised both his eyebrows, sputtering, “I don’t
even get a napkin to clean myself up?”
Nick started walking back towards the bar, “Nobody found
me for three hours. I think you can survive the bus ride home.”
He went back to Eva, made sure he wasn’t needed
immediately and went through to the staff room behind the scenes.
Fuck.
He sank onto the floor, shaking, heart thumping like he
had just run as fast as he could for an hour, barely able to breathe.
He had never been so terrified in his life.
Edo found him after twenty minutes, probably sent to look
for him by Eva, who he had left by herself to deal with costumers. Shit. He’d
apologise when he got up.
Edo sat down next to him, crossing his legs at the ankle.
“So,” he said, and stopped there. That was new, Edo
always knew what to say.
“Yeah,” Nick agreed, “I know.”
Edo looked at his nails, faux-casually polished them
against his shirt, “You confronted Richard.”
A nod, “I did.”
“He left bleeding.”
“Good,” he said, a vicious sort of pleasure running
through him, “I’m glad.”
“Tank says he’ll teach you how to throw a better punch if
you want, even break his nose next time.”
Nick let out a shocked sort of laugh, “I might take him
up on that.”
“Although you might want to remember that you technically
just assaulted a customer.”
Nick let his head knock back against the wall, “Shit.
Linda?”
“She is going to ignore it unless he tries to sue. But
we’ve got plenty of grounds for a counter-suit if he does.”
Silence.
Edo looked at him with that tilt of the head which showed
he really meant what he was about to say, “Well done.”
“Thanks. Never again.”
“Really, though. I’m proud of you, hermano.”
He stood up and held a hand out.
“Come on, we’ve got alcohol to serve.”
Nick allowed himself to pulled up and into a hug.
“You did good. He’s gone.”
Yeah. He might be back, but Nick now had proof that he
could handle it. He was going to be ok.
He arrived at Luke’s flat at quarter to six, running late
after the Circle line had died a spectacular death due to multiple signal
failures and a woman in labour.
He juggled the shopping bags to find his keys in the
lift, and almost dropped a bag when trying to unlock the door.
The lights were on, which was odd because Luke was one of
those people who would turn the lights off even if he was just going back and
forth between rooms, a habit that was contagious, Nick had found, but he had
been so busy lately that it had probably slipped his mind as he had rushed out
the door that morning.
He shut the door behind him with his foot and rushed to
the kitchen before he actually did drop one of the bags.
He put everything on the kitchen table and began rifling
through, looking for the stuff that needed to be put in the fridge.
It wasn’t until he was putting away the coffee that he
noticed it.
There was a glass on the side next to the sink, but
nothing else. It was out of place, jarring to see. Luke was fastidious – yes,
that was probably the best word – from having lived with Sofia for so long. He
said she had been the one to want everything in shades of white and chrome, to
want gleaming and clean and tidy, and he had tried his best to keep everything
that way, so now it was habit.
He put the glass in the dishwasher and thought nothing
more of it.
By the time he had the lasagne in the oven and had
started to relax a bit, it was almost quarter to seven.
Luke dragged himself in, shucked his coat and briefcase
as quickly as he could and gathered Nick into a kiss.
“Hmm,” he hummed, pressing his forehead into Nick’s
shoulder, “It smells like joy in here.”
“Joy smells of lasagne?”
“It does now.”
He didn’t move from Nick’s arms.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted, more like. I probably stink, too,” he
wrinkled his nose, “sorry. And I’m late
too – I’m really sorry. I’ll go and have a shower, then I’ll come back,
refreshed, and we can have dinner and relax and enjoy ourselves. Ok?”
Nick grinned, “Ok.”
Luke squeezed his waist, “Ok.”
Nick busied himself by setting the table.
He liked the domesticity of it, hearing the shower run in
the background while he was in the kitchen, the shuffle of Luke moving around.
He went to look at the DVD collection. He had it more or
less memorised by now, and a couple of his own had mixed into the mess, but he
found it easier to figure out what he fancied watching if he had all the
options in front of him.
Luke walked out of his room, stretching.
He was wearing one the t-shirts Nick loved the best, worn
at the shoulders, loose at the collar.
“Did you leave the light on in the bedroom?”
“No,” Nick frowned, “I haven’t been into the bedroom.”
“Huh. Odd.”
Luke opened the bottle of wine on the counter and poured
two glasses.
“I had a meeting today,” he said, “That lasted five
hours. Five.”
“Ouch.”
“They were the five most pointless hours of my existence
and I want them back.”
He took a large swig of wine.
Nick checked the clock. Not long now.
“What are your plans for tomorrow?”
Luke frowns again, “I promised Sheila I’d go over the
contract with her again, just to make sure we’ve got everything under control,
but that’s sometime in the afternoon. You?”
“I’ve got a shift.”
“Which reminds me, Edo took me shopping last weekend,”
Luke said, pulling him into the bedroom, “Let me show you what we bought.”
Nick did like unwrapping gifts. And if Luke was
presenting himself as a gift? Well, Nick squeezed Luke’s hand and let himself
be pulled, he was also easily distracted.
Saturday night, another shift.
Luke was there this time, along with Mitch and Tash. Luke
had settled himself in a corner, leaning on the bar, whereas Mitch had quickly
disappeared into the crowd and Tash was over at the other bar.
“I reckon she’s composing an ode to Eva’s breasts,” said
JT, “I know I would if I were in her shoes.”
“You’d fall if you were in her shoes. I don’t know how
she does it.”
Luke was drinking his beer straight from the bottle,
which was an excellent excuse to perv on him in public.
“She’s had a lot of practise,” he said, “I guess it’s
something you get better at the more you do it.”
JT handed him a new bottle the minute his had been
emptied.
“You’re my new best friend,” Luke grinned, “and feel free
to tell Edo I said that.”
Mitch came out of nowhere, swiped the bottle, ruffled
Luke’s hair and vanished again.
“Son of a-“
Luke went after him.
Richard swaggered up to the bar, but didn’t say anything,
just leaned against the counter.
Luke had lost Mitch, but had been found by Tash, who
coerced him into a dance.
Nick watched Richard and Richard watched Luke as people
came up to them, tried to separate them, but where Tash just shook her head,
Luke would point towards the bar, towards Nick.
Richard curled his lip into an ugly sneer, “So, that is
your new boyfriend. He looks,” he paused, tasting the words, “not like your
type.”
His type being, of course, cheating bastards of a darker
complexion.
Luke laughed at something Tash said, twirling her. In the
flashing lights, he looked too good to be true, trousers just this side of too
tight, all broad shoulders and handsome features.
“But very attractive.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with Richard’s tone,
and fuck everything, Luke was his.
“Yeah, that’s him. Are you going to order or just waste
my time?”
“Two Campari and soda. Double-“
“Double Campari and a little orange juice, I’ve got it.”
It’s not like you forgot your ex’s favourite drink
overnight. Nick considered spitting in the drinks, but decided he was more
mature than that.
Yeah. Definitely.
“You remember.”
Nick didn’t look up from what he was doing, “Yeah. And?”
“Well, I didn’t think you would. It’s been a while.”
Maybe he wasn’t more mature than that. No wait, health
and safety. Surely Linda would make an exception this time if he was caught?
Nick shrugged before he could change his mind, pushing
the glasses at him, “That’s 14 pounds.”
Luke came up to the bar, still laughing.
“Hey,” he glanced at Nick but spoke to JT, who was free,
“Could I have another beer? Tash,” he turned to her, still boogying behind him,
“what do you want?”
She grinned at JT, bright as her lipstick, “White
Russian!”
JT nodded, “Coming right up!”
Richard put a twenty down, “Keep the change. I like the
feisty new you. The boyfriend probably doesn’t know what to do with you.”
“Whatever,” Nick scoffed, pocketing the change, “Go
away.”
He did. Luke shifted closer, taking over the space
Richard had occupied.
“So,” he said, “it’s half past eleven.”
Tash grinned, pulling her White Russian towards her with
a finger, “Time to shake your groove thang. Who was the guy giving you grief?”
Nick shrugged, shutting down his till, “Richard. No one.”
Luke frowned, “Richard?”
JT shook with rage next to him, violently drying a glass,
“Fucker.”
Nick stepped round to the other side of the bar, “You
haven’t moved past it?”
JT almost snarled, “Not
one fucking bit. One mistake, one hint of
douchery tonight, I’m going to rip that man’s cock off and choke him with it.”
JT had just threated
violence. It sort of gave Nick the soft warm fuzzies.
“Thanks. I mean it, I appreciate it, but I don’t need
you to fight this battle.”
Luke blinked, took a couple of steps back, “I think I’m
missing something.”
Nick tugged on his arm, “Ignore it. Richard is a
bastard, but he’s not in my life anymore and that is all any of us need to
remember. Now,” he twisted his hand in Luke’s shirt, stepping int his personal
space, “Let’s dance.”
He let Luke touch and kiss and lick when they got home,
participated and more than enjoyed, but he knew the question was coming.
Luke’s touch was always slightly more aggressive,
slightly rougher when he was feeling jealous.
They had discussed Richard briefly, he had told Luke
the bare bones of it – that he had been the other woman, as it were, that, in
retrospect, he had been groomed to be quiet and do nothing but adore, and that
being pushed down stairs, having his arm broken, while probably not the best
way to go about it, had driven home exactly what was wrong with that
relationship. Broken heart, broken arm, broken mind – at least to a certain
extent – and they could all heal together. It had taken a long time for all
three to be properly functional again, but it had happened, and he was ok.
Still, Luke waited until the late night quiet was more
about peace than afterglow to bust out the question.
“Richard?”
Nick moved his head onto Luke’s shoulder, who lifted a
hand to scratch at the base of his skull. This was why Nick kept him around. He
almost purred.
“Yeah. He’s been coming to the Epiphany for a while.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“No, I didn’t. He isn’t a problem anymore.”
He could almost see Luke’s frown, despite the dark and the
angle.
“But you shouldn’t have to deal with him.”
“It’s a public space,” Nick argued, wearily, “Unless he
does something against the rules, which he hasn’t, or I had a restraining order,
which I don’t, we don’t have any reason not to let him in.”
Luke moved, sitting upright in the bed, “You should
have got a restraining order.”
“It’s not like I had any intention of seeing him
again.”
“But he-“
Nick
snapped, “Look, I'm not a mansel in distress – you don't have to save me from
the evil sorcerer Richard. I'm over it. I've moved on.” He thought about it for
a minute, considered feeling guilty for the manipulation than was about to
happen, but decided that Luke’s peace of mind was something worth distracting
him for, “This new guy I'm seeing, though. You might have to fight him off
before I can really get with you. He's a little bit wonderful.”
Luke lay
down again, “Hmm. Sounds like you really like him.”
“I really
do. I'm happy with him.”
“Well then,
who would I be to get in the way of happiness?”
There was a pause before Luke coughed and said, “Really
though? Mansel?”
Nick laughed until his ribs ached with it and hid his
face in Luke’s neck, because despite the slight damp on his skin, he still
smelled good. Safe.
Luke scratched his nails through his hair again.
Nick fell asleep without even realising he was tired.
The next morning he woke up with the heat of Luke’s
body around his. A definite improvement to recent routine, if you asked him. He
let himself drift back into sleep, dozing off quickly.
The second time he woke up, the smell of coffee had wafted
in from the kitchen and the part of the bed that usually contained Luke was
cold.
Boo hiss to that.
He dragged himself out of bed, towards the source of
the breakfast smells.
Luke greeted him with a kiss and Nick took a moment to
appreciate the complete lack of caring about morning breath before sitting down
at the table and waiting for the caffeine to appear in front of him, as it
always eventually did.
“Best,” he said, with feeling.
Luke smiled like he knew what he meant.
“Sunday. What do you want to do?”
Nick shrugged, draining his mug, “I don’t know. Is
there more?”
“For you, always. I was thinking we could watch the
beginning of that series you’re always talking about. Space and cowboys?”
Nick knew it was an admission of guilt, but god dammit,
Luke was going to love Firefly.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
His phone went off from wherever he had chucked his
jeans the night before, so he went to find it.
“It’s JT,” he said, not taking his eyes from the phone
as he came back and picked his mug up again, now refilled with glorious coffee,
“He wants to have lunch at that Mexican place near Leicester Square.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They had a good day, between the lunch with JT and time
together and laughter and sweet kisses that didn’t lead to anything else.
Simple affection.
He spent the night again. It wasn’t like he didn’t have
clothes stashed at Luke’s after basically living there for a month and getting
to College from there was only took ten minutes longer. Besides, it was
comforting, in a way, knowing that Luke was there, with him. Having him within
touching distance lifted the buried feelings of unease a little, but it was
difficult to convince his brain completely that this relationship wasn’t
reaching its end.
He didn’t want it to end, which was why he clung so
hard, but it felt like Luke was distancing himself from him through the long
nights at the office and the frequent cancellations.
So he touched and kissed and enjoyed himself while he
still could.
Even on a full night of sleep, Monday was the hardest
day to start.
Luke was up before his alarm went off, the freak, and
ruffled his hair on his way past when Nick made a loud noise of protest at the
beeps from the bedside table.
Luke was good at having coffee ready by the time Nick
reached the kitchen, always happy to have an extra ten minutes of slow drifting
into consciousness while Luke showered.
“Good morning. Eggs, scrambled or fried?”
Nick blinked at him, the meaning shimmering fuzzily in
his brain. Luke refilled his mug with the soft smile that meant he was laughing
on the inside.
Nick frowned.
"Words," he declared, chugging down another gulp
of smart-making caffeine.
Luke nodded like that made sense.
He shrugged internally, if Luke hadn’t realised by now
that Nick wasn’t really awake before his second cup of coffee in the mornings,
then the knowledge would never happen.
“Fried it is.”
Yeah, he was going to miss this.
Nick hated the College administration with a passion.
Paperwork they had screwed up meant he was late to a
meeting with his supervisor, which led to a lecture about punctuality, which in
turn led to being late to the Old Boot.
“Hey,” Edo made a gesture with the rag he was using to clean
the bar, “What are you doing here?”
“Luke texted me, we were supposed to meet like twenty
minutes ago. Is he here?”
Edo turned
his head towards the tables. Nick followed his gaze to a table at the back,
where Luke was sitting opposite a blonde woman.
“They’ve been here
since five.”
“Since five? Luke
doesn’t finish work until five.”
“Yeah well,” said
Edo, with obvious distaste, “The chaval
was never so good in the head when it came to her.”
Nick squinted,
trying to recognise her. He knew he had seen her somewhere, but he couldn’t
quite place her.
“Well, who is she?”
Edo put the rag
down, “That, mi hermano, is the bitch
of an ex-girlfriend.”
Well, fuck him
sideways.
“That’s Sofia?”
She was beautiful, a
lot more striking in person than she had been in the pictures Luke used to have
up. Although, thinking about it, he hadn’t seen them since that very first morning
he had woken up in Luke’s bed.
There was a white
coat on the back of her chair, still pure white despite the grimy London rain
outside. She was wearing dark trousers and a dark red jumper, too classy to be
maroon, that looked expensive from all the way over at the bar.
Her laugh rang out, happy and musical.
This was the woman who had left Luke, the reason Luke was
with him.
What if she wanted him back?
Edo shook his head, reading his mind, “Nope. He is
entirely gone for you, you know that.”
He wasn’t as sure as Edo seemed to be, but he didn’t say
it.
“Then what are they talking about?”
“Ah, that I don’t know,” Edo shrugged, resuming his wipe
down of the counter, “But I can tell you why they’re doing it here.”
Nick slouched onto a barstool, “Why?”
“Because she doesn’t like making a scene in public.”
That sounded about right.
He wondered whether he should go over do something, but
Luke caught his eye and shook his head at him, then did that eye squint, head
tilt thing that meant he was apologetic but couldn’t get away right now. He
usually did it when on the phone to a colleague.
“-that’s enough.”
Luke drained his drink and stood up, fishing his jacket
off the back of his chair.
Sofia put her hands on her hip as Luke pulled it on,
“This isn’t over.”
“Maybe not,” he said, walking away, “But it’s over for
tonight.”
She frowned at them all when he stopped in front of them.
He pulled out his wallet, gave Edo a twenty, nodded at
him and tangled his fingers with Nick’s then led them both out of the pub.
Nick extended him the courtesy of quiet until they got to
the lift, apart from the quick “hello” to the doorman, who always grinned at
them as though they were family.
“She’s very pretty,” Nick said, feeling entirely out of
his depth, “Well dressed.”
“Yeah,” Luke closed his eyes, leaned his head back
against the mirrored wall, “She was always well put together.”
“You were out of work early.”
“I made Rob go to a meeting in my place,” Luke explained,
“Because this is the first time she’s called since she left and I thought
something might be wrong.”
He snorted, shaking his head.
Nick didn’t know what to do with that.
“Is something wrong?”
Luke let them in, “No, not really. She err – she wanted
to talk.”
“What?”
Luke didn’t notice Nick stop next to the door.
Shit. Here it came.
“Yeah. Did you ever notice things out of place, lights
on, stuff like that?”
Nick nodded. That was an odd way to start a breakup
conversation.
“Well, I thought I was going insane, I thought I was
leaving stuff on and moving objects around and then forgetting about it because
work’s been so hectic.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
Luke rubbed a hand over his jaw, “Turns out it was her.”
“She was in our flat?”
It doesn’t occur to him until later that he said “our”
flat, like they had moved in together, the only thing really going around his
brain were not leaving and that bitch.
Luke nodded, sinking into the sofa, “Yes.”
Nick ran a hand through his hair, “How?”
“She still has keys, apparently.”
What.
“You didn’t change the locks after she left?”
“I forgot! It wasn’t – look, at the time I thought she
was coming back and then,” he let out a rush of air, somewhere between a sigh
and a laugh, “And then I just forgot, I did other things. I was dealing with
big clients.”
“You’re always dealing with big clients,” Nick muttered,
too low for Luke to really hear him, “So she has been letting herself in here
for fuck knows how long and we’re meant to be ok with that?”
“No, God no! I’ll get the locks changed tomorrow.”
Nick sat next to him on the sofa, positioned himself in
such a way that he could see Luke’s profile, head leaning against the back of
the sofa, eyes closed.
“What does she want?”
“The flat.”
Nick watched the ripple of expressions across Luke’s
face, though one didn’t settle.
“Why?”
“She misses London. She and her boytoy want to move in.”
“What the hell would give her any right to the flat?”
Luke shifted, plucking at the buttons on his coat,
nervous, “Technically she owns half of it.”
“Right,” Nick let himself sink into the sofa. Luke got
up, took his coat off, went to hang it up.
Nick watched as Luke gently put himself together,
shoulders squaring. He imagined this is what Luke looked like before a
presentation. The careful masking of his emotions, preparing himself to pitch
something.
“Just say whatever it is,” Nick snapped, “I’m not a
client.”
Luke deflated completely, looking too small for his suit
and tie, “You’re right.”
Nick blinked.
“What?”
“You’re right,” Luke sat next to him, taking his hand and
threading their fingers together, “You’re not a client, you’re my partner, and
I should treat you like it. You have a right to know too.”
Nick looked up.
“Sofia wants the flat, but I don’t know if I want to give
it to her. We’ve got a few options,” he settled himself in, staring at their
joint hands instead of at Nick, “One of us can buy out the other one’s half of
the flat, one of us can let it go, or we can basically fight over custody, as
it were.”
“And who would win that fight?”
“She left,” shrugged Luke, looking up, “Literally, she
left and took her stuff with her. I think that would let me win.”
“But that would mean going to court.”
“And I don’t really want to waste time, energy and
resources doing that. We’ve both got better things to do.”
Nick nodded, “Right.”
Luke sighed, squeezing his hand briefly.
“What would you do?”
Nick thought about it, but it wasn’t like he had any sort
of situation he could use to compare with.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you like the flat?”
Nick lifted his shoulders, “Yeah, sure. But it’s your
flat.”
“It is,” said Luke, slowly, “But you kind of live here
too.”
Kind of.
“Talk to her. See if she’s willing to let it go or have
you buy her half, I guess. Work something out. It depends. Do you want to keep
it?”
Luke pulled his shoes off and all but climbed onto the
sofa.
He didn’t usually do that in work clothes, said he liked
the clear difference between professional and personal, both in behaviour and
dress.
He was nervous.
“I don’t know. I mean, this is what she wanted, you know?
She picked it, the colours, the kitchen, the bathroom – she designed it exactly
the way she wanted it. I didn’t really care, it was for her.”
Nick stayed quiet.
“And I’m still angry at her. Not for leaving, but for
leaving the way she did. So I don’t know now if I want the flat for me, because
it’s home, or because I want to hurt her.”
Nick didn’t know what to say.
“And that probably makes me an awful person, but I can’t
bring myself to be anything but angry at her.”
“When did she call?”
“Yesterday. I told her I’d meet her for a drink. I didn’t
think seeing her would be this draining.”
“Yeah,” Nick snorted, “I know what you mean.”
“She’s just so, I don’t know, so demanding.”
“Call her tomorrow,” Nick offered, “Meet up again once
you’ve calmed down and work something out.”
“Ok.”
Nick put his arms around him, “Ok.”
Luke didn’t sleep that night. Nick pretended not to
notice the bags under his eyes when he left for work in the morning, but made
him promise to call the locksmith.
They didn’t need more worries in their lives.
Nick was working on his laptop when the door opened.
“Hey,” he called out, “Give me a minute.”
The steps were slower and lighter than usual.
When he looked up, the black high heels shined as though
mocking him.
“So you’re Nick.”
She was even more stunning up close, hair swept back into
a tight bun. What a bitch.
“Sofia.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, “I see it didn’t
take him long to move someone else into our home.”
“His home.”
She rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Is he here?”
“No,” he said, shortly, “He’s not.”
“Strange,” the words were slow, taunting, “He told me to
meet at home.”
Nick bit his tongue, “He’s not here.”
“I thought we’d be alone. Just the two of us, get
everything out in the open.”
Nick decided he hated her, “Get out.”
“Ask him if he misses sleeping with women.”
Nick stood up and she put her hands up in a placating
motion.
“Just ask. He’ll say no.”
“Obviously.” Nick muttered.
Her eyes glinted, “Ask him why.”
Nick clenched his teeth.
She looked him over, assessing.
“He deserves better than you.”
She left. The flat echoed in the resulting silence.
Motherfucker.
Luke came home fuming.
“She won’t back down. She won’t give, she won’t sell, she
wants the fucking flat.”
Nick looked up, wide eyed, from his laptop. He had never
seen Luke this angry before.
“I said no,” Luke said, twitching out of his jacket,
“She’s the one who left, right? She left me with the flat, all my stuff is
here, it’s mine.”
“It’s kind of hers too,” Nick attempted reason, despite
the sour taste in his mouth from his own meeting with the woman, “I mean, you
did move in together.”
“Because I thought she was the love of my life!”
Nick swallowed around the lump in his throat. Luke was
still being too loud for him to be entirely comfortable.
“Was she?”
Luke froze halfway through taking off a shoe, “Nick-“
“No, listen. Was she? Would it be easier if you got back
together?”
He got rid of the shoe, coming up to stand next to him, “I
don’t want her. Don’t be stupid.”
Nick looked up sharply, “Don’t call me stupid,” Richard
used to put him down like that, “Maybe all she really wants is to have you back.”
Luke shook his head, “No, it can’t be that.”
“What if it is?”
“Then she’ll figure out,” Luke’s tone was verging on cruel,
“that we’re not getting back together.”
Nick shifted in his sear, “She’s been here a few times,
hasn’t she?”
Luke’s eyebrows knitted together.
“And?” he snapped.
“She said you deserved better.”
Luke’s scowl deepened, “How do you know that?”
Nick shrugged, words on the screen swimming in front of
his eyes, “She’s right, I guess.”
He let out a huff, throwing his hands up, “She was here.”
Nick nodded, saved, and decided to go with it, “Waiting
for you. Said you’d told her to meet at home.”
“That bitch.”
Nick swallowed his pride and regurgitates the words she
pressed into his brain, “Can you honestly tell me you haven’t missed sleeping
with a woman?”
“No!”
“Why?”
Luke blinked in shock, “What?”
That wasn’t a denial.
Nick didn’t have words, because what the hell, how could he think – he let it
happen again. He shut his laptop and closed his eyes, he needed to calm down.
“I can’t believe it,” Luke says, “You think I-“
“I don’t know!”
“I can’t believe you,” he started pacing up and down,
running a hand through his hair, “Nick – I’m with you. You. I don't want
her, I'm fighting to let us keep this place and all you've done is accuse me of
something I haven't done, something I won’t
do!”
Nick felt like crying, “And how am I supposed to know
that?”
“What?”
His hands were shaking and his voice went quieter, “You’re
never here. When you call there are voices behind you, you cancel more than you
ever did, you work late, what am I supposed to think?”
Luke wasn’t quite shouting, but his voice was loud,
“You’re supposed to trust me!”
“And I do!” Nick said back, “I just don’t know what I’m
supposed to do about it! You’re always gone!”
“Oh yeah? Like you're not at the club with Richard every
night?”
“Fuck you,” said Nick, sitting up straighter, “I have to
go to work, that's not fair!”
“I bet that’s what it’s really about, Richard’s looking
good, is he?”
Nick could have growled.
He stood up, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Luke stepped forward with a face like thunder and that
was all it took. Nick winced, stumbled backwards and flung a hand in front of himself,
instinct taking over.
When he lowered it Luke looked stunned, like someone had
punched him in the stomach.
“You think,” he stopped and started again, almost
stuttering, “You think that I would, that-“
Nick grabbed his laptop, his bag and ran as fast as he
could, heart pounding, hands shaking, tears already starting to form.
Shit.
When he got back to the flat, JT didn’t ask. He looked up
from his book and just opened his arms.
Nick cried until his lungs gave out.
