16. Luke

The door slammed shut behind Nick.

Luke sank into the sofa.

What just happened?

He spent the next day trying and failing to pay attention at work, working himself up.

How could Nick think that he’d ever hit him, no matter how angry he got?

He tried to regain some of the anger he had been feeling at the time, but it just wouldn’t. Guilt happened, shame happened, but he couldn’t summon anger for anyone but himself.

He couldn’t sleep. The night before he had conked out, exhausted after fighting with both Sofia and Nick, but now he just lay awake staring at the ceiling while his insides twisted into tangled knots.

When Phyllis brought him coffee the next morning at work, his smile wavered and fell, but he took it.

It was only when she placed a plate of biscuits at his elbow at the end of the day that he realised he hadn’t eaten anything.

He ran a hand over his eyes, too tired to do anything, and pushed the plate away.

He wasn’t hungry.

He needed a drink, definitely.

He finished later than he usually would, diving into his work, pushing late into the night.

By Thursday evening there was little left for him to do.

Phyllis and the team kept asking him if he was feeling alright and casting worried glances his way.

He needed to get out of there. Even his computer shut down before he was ready.

The flat was empty, of course, but it hadn’t hit him this hard since last Wednesday, when he realised Nick hadn’t been there for a few days. He had gotten used to food and humming and a warm body in his bed.

He sat down in front of the television and let himself drift.

Man, he wanted a drink. But they only had vodka and rum, and nothing to mix it with. Nick bought the mixers, because he had better taste.

Luke. Luke only had vodka and rum.

He went to bed. It didn’t matter. He was tired anyway.

Of course now that his schedule outside of work was remarkably emptier, work had let up. Sod’s law.

Luke found himself staring at the television for the third night in a row, which would have been fine if he had thought to turn the damn thing on.

He missed Nick. He felt guilty. He really didn’t know what to do next. So he did what he always did when he screwed up. He called his best friend.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

Luke could feel the tension start to unravel already.

“Yeah,” Lucas sounded amused, “I can see that. Your name is on my screen as we speak.”

“I need advice.”

“Jesus Christ on a hoverbike, when did I become your gay hotline?”

There was a snort in the background. Donna, presumably.

“Don’t you have someone of a more flexible sexuality you can call when you need LGBT advice?”

“Lucas,” he took a deep breath, “I fucked up.”

His friend must have heard something in his tone, because instead of mocking him he just said, “From the beginning.”

So Luke recounted everything, including things he already knew, Sofia, the hectic schedule at work, Nick’s incredible patience, but also his concealed bitterness because he felt second in Luke’s attentions – which he wasn’t, by the way, although, yes, maybe in attentions, temporarily, but never in affections – Sheila’s insistence with staying late and working through lunches, Sofia again, Sofia and her meddling.

“She came by the flat?”

That was definitely incredulity and anger in Lucas’ voice.

“Yeah, the day before the locksmith. Nick was here.”

“Shit. She messed with his head,” he guessed, “Look, I’m going to put you on speaker, because Donna’s better than me at feelings and things.”

True.

“Fine. And yes, she messed with him. She made him think I was cheating on him.”

Donna sucked in a breath, “Like the douchebag ex.”

“Exactly, “ Luke nodded, even knowing they couldn’t see him, “Except she implied that I was sleeping with her.”

“That bitch.”

Donna never cursed, so to hear her do it with such fierceness was surprising.

“Quite. So we argued.”

“First fight?”

Luke shrugged, pulling a cushion closer to himself, “First one that mattered.”

“And? What happened? What did you say?”

“I don’t know,” he said, frustrated at everything, but mainly himself, “I just… I said something stupid about his ex being around the Epiphany and him all the time and I took a step towards him and he flinched, then ran.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, so the words barrelled out to fill the hole.

“Like, proper full-on threw a hand up in front of his face in defence, tried to make himself smaller, looked down and away. He looked terrified. He flinched. Like I was going to hit him.”

Still no response. Luke could feel the nausea starting in his stomach.

“You don’t think? Not you too.”

“No,” said Lucas firmly, “We know you wouldn’t.”

Donna piped up with what Lucas called the “class voice”, the one she used to soothe people.

“But he doesn’t know that.”

Luke must’ve made a confused sort of sound, because she continued.

“Look, he obviously likes you and trusts you, but look at all of this from his point of view. All he can see is the pattern. You’ve been busy, almost distancing yourself, right? Has he been a bit too close recently, clinging on a bit too hard?”

“It’s work,” Luke tried to protest, “And maybe he’s been a bit more touchy-feely than usual, but-“

“Luke, love, he thought you were going to break up with him. Then you got angry at Sofia, then with him, and if I remember right, heat of the moment anger is what happened with his ex. Which all makes it especially frightening if his instincts were screaming at him that he couldn’t fight you off.”

Luke tried to disappear into the sofa, “What?”

“He’s smaller, thinner and weaker than you.”

That was all true. Luke had to tilt downwards to kiss him, not a lot, just enough for it still to be comfortable, but he was taller. Nick had a dancer’s figure, slim and flexible, but it had started from a fairly reedy sort of kid, if past Facebook pictures were anything to go by. Which meant that Luke, with his swimmer’s shoulders and school-rugby built torso was bigger and stronger.

“Fuck.”

“At the most, what he has on his side is speed. Which he ended up using.”

Luke put a hand over his eyes, ashamed, “He ran.”

Donna’s voice was still pitched low, soothing even in telling him exactly how he had fucked things up worse than previously thought, “Because it was the only option. Fight or flight.”

“Shit. Shit, Donna. What do I do?”

“Leave him alone for a little while,” she said, the voice of reason, “Maybe text him to let him know you’re sorry and worried about him. Be careful though, you’re concerned but you don’t want to guilt him into anything.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“People are tricky,” she reminded him, “and texts don’t always come through the way you want them to. Just let him work through his anxiety for a bit. Text him, and when he’s ready he will text you back.”

Yeah.

“Ok.”

Luke could do that.

Apparently he couldn’t. Composing the perfect text message was hard, and he had spent far too much time over the past few days trying to coax the words into something that conveyed concern and hope, but nothing negative.

How did one say “sorry, I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose and I want you back because you’re perfect and wonderful and I don’t deserve you, but if you don’t want to that’s ok too, I hope we can keep in contact and please be ok” without coming off as a little bit psychotic?

Although it wouldn’t be ok.

If Nick didn’t want him back, that is.

He wouldn’t bring it up or anything, but he would have to stop seeing everyone for a while, hide in his flat (if it still belonged to him at the time, which, with the way things were going, there wouldn’t be any point to), dive into his work even further, cry and mope and pine until Lucas or Edo slapped him into trying to move on.

What if Nick ended up with someone Luke knew via Mitch and Tash and he had to go to the wedding and give a speech about how good the grooms were for each other and not talk about his regret for fucking it up?

Jesus motherfucking Christ.

It was just a text message. He could do this. He needed to pull himself together.

Maybe after he’d sent it he would go down to the Old Boot for a pint. He deserved a nice relaxing pint.

Ok. Writing the text. Go.

The phone rang.

It was Edo.

“Hello?”

“Hombre, are you free?”

He could barely hear him over the background music. He was definitely at the Epiphany.

Nick was on shift tonight.

“You need to come here.”

“No, Edo, I can’t.”

The background music got louder, he could hear people laughing and shouting along.

“I will pay for the couple's counselling,” said Edo, sounding exhausted, “just come and pick him up.”

“Deal with it. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Luke. Please. He needs you.”

And Luke could almost see Nick again, with the tears threatening, the look of utter betrayal and it actually, physically hurt.

“I'll be there as soon as I can.”

When he walked in, Nick was in a corner of the further bar, sitting on one of the stools. He knew Nick was supposed to be dancing that night, and he knew Nick loved it, but he was meant to be behind the bar. It wasn’t eleven thirty yet.

JT glared at him from behind the first bar, so Luke stopped to receive the hate.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” said JT, “Because it wouldn’t do any good. Just remember that I work in a lab and I have access to some pretty nasty chemicals.”

“Understood.”

Luke gave him a half smile and walked to the other bar, not letting the early dancers get in his way.

Edo nodded at him as he came closer and stared at him like he was trying to convey just how much of a fuck-up he was just with his eyes.

He already knew, thanks.

But Edo pushed a glass of water at him before serving his next customer like he was trying to press manners into him, so Luke picked it and his courage up, and walked over to Nick.

“Hey.”

Nick didn’t look up, just kept on drawing patterns on the counter with his fingertips.

“I’m fine, JT, we’ve had this conversation. I’ll get up and dance in a minute ok?”

Luke put the glass down next to his hand, “I’m not JT.”

At that, Nick did look up.

“Luke. Shit.”

“I can go, if you want.”

Nick’s hand shot out to wrap around his wrist, stopping him, “No, no, I’ve been meaning to call, I just-“

“-Edo called, told me to come here, but if it’s easier-“

“-it’s difficult to explain if you haven’t been through it-“

“-I mean, I miss you, but we can talk some other time-“

“-but I want to talk about it.”

They stared for a moment. Luke took comfort in the point of contact between then at his wrist.

“Do you have to stay for the rest of your shift?”

Suddenly, Edo was there.

“No, Linda took dancing away from him until he stops moping. He doesn’t have a shift.”

Just as suddenly, Edo left.

Like a gremlin, or a four year old.

“No shift?”

Nick shook his head, letting go of Luke’s wrist, “I just came so I wouldn’t be alone in the flat. JT’s working all the shifts Linda will give him and all of my non-College friends are here, so.”

Luke caught Nick’s fingers before his hand was back on the table and laced their fingers together.

“Come home? We’ll talk about it in the morning. Right now I just want you back with me. No sex,” he was quick to clarify, not wanting Nick to jump to conclusions, “just sleep. In our bed. With me.”

Nick took a moment, looked at him as though searching for something.

“Ok. Yeah,” he squeezed their hands together, gave a small, soft smile, “Let’s go home.”

9. Edo

Edo thought it was disgusting. Now, hang on a minute, he didn’t have a problem with that kind of lifestyle in theory, but did they really have to go around flaunting it the way they were?

Nick and Luke had been staring into each other’s eyes, kissing in that intimate way that only people who love each other truly can and generally being all PDA and close and freakishly adorable all afternoon.

Couples. Blech.

Tash walked up to him and demanded a drink.

“If I have to watch the two of them mash faces I will want to be smashed myself.”

“White Russian?”

“Unless you can think of something else, yes.”

“’Love Hate’ is really strong,” he said, grabbing a glass and getting started, “but it conveys the right sentiment.”

“It’s not that I don’t love Luke or want them to be happy,” she said, sitting down at the bar, “but do they have to bloody parade their couple-y-ness?”

“I know what you mean.”
“it’s like, congratulations, yes, you’ve found someone who loves you – although I doubt they’ve said that out loud yet – good for you, but the rest of us are still looking for someone who will last more than a date, you know?”

Edo had seen Tash and Eva making eyes at each other at Nick’s birthday party, but wasn’t sure he should say anything.

“I know.”

Tash pulled a face, “It’s just so very in your face.”

Edo handed her the drink, “Love Hate.”

“Thanks,” she took a sip then shuddered at the alcohol content, “Yeah, ok, that’s exactly what I needed.”

Mitch came over, slammed his pint glass down and affirmed, “Barman! Another.”

“Getting to you too, are they?”

“It’s like they’re discovering kissing and holding hands for the first time – it’s all new and exciting and wonderful and they make me want to puke rainbow-coloured kittens.”

Tash shook her head, “Couples!”

“I wonder how long it will take them to realise that we moved to the bar?” Mitch asked.

Edo poured himself a finger of whiskey, “I will drink to that.”
Twenty minutes later, Nick and Luke joined them at the bar, looking sheepish.

They went back to their table after ordering a plate of chips to share from Sam, the bartender and owner of the Old Boot.

Edo smiled at Sam’s raised eyebrow.

“Please?”

“Extra shift tomorrow,” said Sam, taking the tea towel from Edo’s shoulder, “Come in for 8.”

“In the morning?” Edo’s indignant cry melted into an embarrassed, “8 am, tomorrow morning. Thank you, Sam, for the opportunity you’re affording me by keeping me in a job.”

Sam’s grunt was somewhere between  ‘you’re welcome, tosser’, ‘I don’t know why I keep you around’ and ‘go and talk with your friends, you nut’. Edo had become really good at decoding Sam’s various noises. His boss was just older than Edo himself, quiet, with shaggy hair and was the shyest barman to ever tend bar. He wanted to be the sort of bartender that people told their worries to, that the regulars knew by name and greeted with a smile and a handshake, but was just not the talkative type.

Sam and his brother Mark had bought The Old Boot and restored it together. It was cool, Edo thought. The locals, like Jim who-used-to-work-down-the-docks, said that they had tried really hard to keep the same old atmosphere whilst turning it from a run-down “pile of rubble with taps” into this “without selling their souls to Wetherspoons”.

They were both cool people, but Sam’s a bit – Edo didn’t know how to describe it. Quiet would just have to do as an adjective.

Luke had started asking about the girl Mitch had been seeing.

Mitch shrugged, “She’s great, and great in bed – like, scratches on my back, bruises on my hips, stupid grin good – but I don’t think we’re right for each other.”

“Man,” said Edo, flopping into a chair, “I don’t get it. What more do you want?”

Tash gave him a weak punch as she slipped into the booth, opposite Nick, “How about a real relationship?”

“No way,” Edo shook his head, “Not for me.”

“Since you seem so keen on it,” said Nick, folding himself back into the booth, pulling Luke next to him, “Tell me this: how does this sex with chicks thing work anyway?” Nick asked.
Edo exchanged grins with Mitch. Excellent.

“Luke,” prompted Mitch, “Why don't you answer that question for us?”

Luke slid his head into his hands, “Because I value my sex life and also, no. There is no way I'm describing it.”

Sam arrived with their plate of chips and everyone went quiet. His grunt meant he knew they were talking about things he wouldn’t want his other customers to listen to, but he liked them enough to ignore it.

Tash took a chip and poked it at Nick, “It depends. Do you mean how does it feel for the guy or the girl?”

Edo raised an eyebrow at her. Well, well, well.

“What?” she asked, “I may not have ever had sex with a man, but there are some very realistic sex toys out there. One of my exes was bi and her favourite toy was modelled on a specific man's penis.”

Luke groaned into his palms, “That is more information than I ever wanted to know.”

“Then you can leave,” said Edo, waving him away and grinning at Tash, “but why don't you share more details with the rest of the class?”

Nick shook his head, taking a chip from the plate, “You know, Edo, I still don’t see how you’re mentally old enough to be allowed to serve alcohol.”

Edo leaned in close as though he were sharing a secret, “It’s all in the act. Observe, chaval – I am cunningly disguised as a responsible adult.”

6. Edo

Edo fucking loved Thursday nights.

The blonde he had been flirting with for the past fifteen minutes slipped him her number scrawled on the back of a napkin, which he took, winking, folded neatly and put away for future reference before handing over her vodka-lemonade.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, baby, don’t forget me!”

Sandy rolled her eyes at him, “Pass the Cointreau.”

“You’re just mad that I get more play than you do.”

“Please,” she said, smiling at her customer, “as if what you do could ever compare to my natural charms."

The customer’s eyes went wide and she giggled, taking her drink. Edo could tell she would be back.

Damn it.

“This isn’t a competition, Sandy,” he said, mentally tallying up the numbers they’d both got so far, “but if it were…”

Sandy laughed, “I would kick your arse at this and you know it.”

“But you don’t even call them!”

It was grossly unfair. She got numbers scrawled on the backs of napkins in eyeliner and lipstick just like he did, but she never used them. And she refused to pass them on, which just added insult to injury.

Sandy loved the chase, but was married. Or civil-partnershipped, at any rate. Point was, anyway, that Sandy was taken and happy and not looking for anyone else, was never even tempted to stray (and Edo knew this because he had asked). On the other hand, she loved flirting, and since flirting sells drinks, working at the Epiphany was pretty much her dream job. Ellie, Sandy’s partner, apparently had enough faith in their marriage (“Union, Edo, we’re not allowed to be married.”) and trusted Sandy enough to know that it would never go any further than flirting. Sandy said they giggled about the messages above the numbers together.

A guy a black tank top wanted a cider, whatever they had on tap, so as Sandy dealt with that Edo smiled at the next girl in the queue.
“What can I get you?”

While he was making her two martinis, he saw Bo making her way across the crowd. He couldn’t see Nick, but the dancefloor was always filled to overflowing on Thursdays.

She dashed over to them and leaned across the counter, but instead of her usual flirty conversation with Sandy, Bo was looking for him.

“Edo!” she waved him over, “I need you.”

He grinned, “You know when my shift ends, girl, I’ll get to you later.”

Bo didn’t even smile, which was strange.

“Richard is here.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” she let herself drop back, “I know.”

Edo turned to let Sandy know she’d be on her own, but she waved him away, “I’ve got it covered. Go.”

Richard. What the fuck was that man doing in here again?

The married man who had led Nick on for the best part of two years, the sick fuck who had made Nick fall in love with him and abused that precious gift (screw you all, Edo was allowed to be sentimental too and all love is a gift, but Nick’s is definitely a precious one) by pushing him down his own stairs.

If he saw Richard he was going to punch him in his smirking, lying, cheating, bastardly face.

Bo led him to the staff bathroom, hurrying past the other bar so as not to catch anyone’s attention.
Luke was there, obviously being interrogated by JT. Shit. He would need to talk to JT later, but right now Nick needed a level head.

They stopped in the corridor outside the bathrooms, “He’s locked himself in one of the stalls.”
“Did Richard try anything?”

If he had, the man would be going home without his teeth.

“Not that I could see. It was just see, recognise, run, but even the memory would be bad enough.”

“Yeah,” Edo rubbing the back of his neck, “It would. God, seeing him in person must have been terrifying. Here, too. Thanks, Bo.”

She gave him a half smile, “Of course. I’ll go back to Sandy.”

“Wait, hey. Tell Tank to get rid of him.”

She nodded and went back out to the club.

He pushed the door to the bathroom open and walked inside.

“Nicola?”

No answer.

“Hermano? It’s Edo, come on.”

“Richard is here,” said the third stall.

“I know,” he walked over and tried to push the door open, but it was locked, “It’s ok. Tank is escorting him off the premises.”

“Why is he here?”

Edo shrugged and leaned against the sink opposite the door Nick was hiding behind.

“If I had all the answers I wouldn’t be a bartender.”

“I never wanted to see him again. The Epiphany is my place, why is he here?”

“It’s a good hunting ground for him. Best ‘All Sexualities’ club in London and all. The people change every night, they don’t know what he’s like.”

“He’s a bastard.”

“I know.”

Edo remembered only too well being called up by JT to tell him they wouldn’t be in that night because they were in A&E. Richard had broken Nick’s arm by pushing him down the stairs from his flat.

JT had found Nick still at the bottom of the stairs, hours later, pale and shaking with dried tear tracks on his face, holding his arm to his chest.

Nick had confronted Richard about being married after receiving a phone call from his wife and cheating on both of them, and Richard had pushed him down the stairs in the middle of the resulting argument then fled.

Edo was one of Nick’s emergency contact numbers, and when he’d asked about that JT had told him that Nick’s phone was still in the flat.

“He makes me want to punch him,” said Nick, “but the second he got close I flinched, I flinched, and I just. I had to go. I ran.”

There was a pause. Edo could hear Nick’s uneven breathing. He was either trying to stop crying or trying not to start.

“Am I a coward?”

The question was so quiet Edo thought Nick probably didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“No,” he replied firmly, “You’re not.”

“What?”

“You’re not a coward. He pushed you down a set of stairs. It was an angry, violent act and meant aggressively. Richard is a fucking asshole and if I weren’t out here with you, I’d probably be out there, waiting to murder whatever would be left of the bastard after JT got done with him.”

“Fuck, JT” the stall door swung open, “Does JT know he’s here?”

“I don’t think so,” said Edo, straightening up and opening his arms, “He was talking to Luke when I came in.”

Nick launched himself into the hug and held on just as tightly as he had when Edo had gone to see him after his shift had ended that night.

JT had settled Nick on the sofa with his favourite feel-good film playing in the background and various fruit juices on the coffee table.

“He’s not allowed alcohol,” JT had explained, letting him in, “Doesn’t mix well with the painkillers he’s on.”

Edo had nodded and gone to sit next to Nick, who had shuffled away from him.

JT’s face had crumpled at that as though he was going to cry of frustration. Nick didn’t normally shy away from contact, didn’t normally notice how close his friends were at all and he used touch to help convey meaning.
JT had walked off into the kitchen and Edo could see him busy himself by making tea. Ah, the most British comfort ritual of all.

Nick had reached for his glass, but had stopped halfway to the coffee table with a grunt.

“Painkillers not enough?”

“The most recent dose is still kicking in and I’ve got bruises on the inside.”

“As well as the outside,” had come JT’s mutter from the kitchen, barely loud enough to be heard, “Fucking motherfucker…”

Edo had picked up the glass and handed it to Nick.

“I’m sorry your boyfriend was a psychotic arse,” he had said, making sure Nick was looking at him properly through his shocked expression, “but I’m glad this means he’s not in your life anymore. Are you pressing charges?”

Nick had shook his head.

“I think you should.”

“I don’t want to see him again.”

Edo had nodded and made a note to bring it up again at another point, but he could understand that.

“Ok.”

He had opened his arms and Nick had leaned into him, putting his good arm around Edo’s middle. Edo had squeezed, and Nick had shuddered, squeezed back and started to sob.

JT had been watching while the kettle boiled and his mouth quirked in a strange way.

Edo could sympathise. While this was miles better than the silent contemplation and shock, it was also heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry, hermano.”
“For what,” Nick asked, interrupted by a hiccup, face still buried in his shirt, “being right?”

“For you having to go through this.”
Nick had clutched at his shirt with his fist in response.

“Luke is here?”

The question was muffled by his own shoulder, but it brought Edo back to the present.

“Yeah. With JT.”

Nick squeezed him once before letting go with a choked out laugh.

“He came to rescue me.”

Edo must have made a face at the sappiness and the comparison to princess (because Nick was gay, but he was hardly the campest queen in the place), because Nick gave a slightly watery smile.

“I told him people wanted details and he told me he would come tonight and rescue me. I wasn’t sure he would make it, I didn’t see him before…”

“Well,” Edo made a vague gesture that didn’t really make sense, “He’s outside.”

“Ok,” Nick turned to the mirror and frowned, “Ok. I’m all red and weird, but I want to see him. He’s here for me.”

He was glad this was distracting Nick, but he didn’t want it him to feel like he had to put on a mask and see Luke.

“You don’t have to, you know. We can explain something came up.”

“No, I want to,” Nick gave a shy side smile, “I really like him. Besides, if he’s been with JT all this time he might just decide I’m not worth it.”

Edo frowned as Nick gave his face a quick wash. Normally he would let that go, let the joke stay in the funny zone it was meant to be in, but sometimes people needed to know.

“Nah,” said Edo, clapping him on the shoulder, “Luke’s a clever one. He knows you’re way out of his league. And if doesn’t think you’re worth it because of JT, then he is a moron. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than you think.”

Nick stopped, halfway through pushing the door to the corridor open.

“Thanks. Just,” he glanced at him, hesitating, “Yeah. Thank you.”

Edo smiled again, “Anytime.”

He followed Nick back out to the club proper.

Nick was careful not to get too close to people, but he lit up light a damn Christmas tree when he saw Luke chatting animatedly with JT.

Luke’s answering expression flung away any doubts Edo might have had about them not being made for each other with a fucking grin and hearts in its eyes.

Then again, it had been his idea in the first place, so obviously they were compatible, but it was nice to know he was right.

He gave Luke a quick double thumbs up (tacky, yes, old fashioned and a little dorky, but an effective means of communication) and made his way back to the front bar, where Sandy was trying to teach Bo how to pull pints whilst tending bar without him.

He moved to help her slide drinks over to the group of people holding out change to her, but Bo got there first.

“Nick ok?” She asked, clearly worried.

“He will be.”

“Your boy Luke had better be good for him.”

Edo glanced up towards the pair. The crowd had conveniently parted so he could see them. He was tempted to call it fate, but she was a notorious slut around here.

Nick was smiling shyly at Luke, blush barely visible in the low and multi-coloured lighting, but Edo knew it was there. Luke slowly held out his hand. Edo could hear Bo’s breath catch as she waited to see what Nick would do.

He took it.

Edo smiled. Yeah, they would be good for each other.

“They are a little bit adorable, aren’t they?”

Sandy handed him a snifter.

“Yeah,” said Edo, “I predict that they will become disgustingly couple-y and full of PDAs. What am I making?”

Sandy grinned at him, “Tank just came back in. You’re making an Adios Motherfucker and handing it to the lovebirds.”

“On us?”

Sandy pointed to the entrance, where Linda was tearing a strip out of one of the bouncers.

“On the house.”

“This drink?” He asked, reaching for the vodka and curacao.

“Well, technically whatever drinks they want, but I thought you would enjoy serving them this.”

Excellent,” he said, pouring in the club soda and starting to walk away, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a young pair of gentlemen to embarrass.”

3. Edo

“Luke, chaval, where have you been?”

Luke gave a thin smile and collapsed onto a barstool, letting his briefcase fall heavily at his feet, but he was clearly trying to pretend nothing was wrong, “Working, you tosser, where have you been?”

He looked tired, the sort of bone-deep exhaustion that hits after working too hard, and thinking too much and not sleeping enough. He had dark bags under his eyes, almost black enough to be bruises, and he was paler than Edo had ever seen him. His clothes were wrinkled.

Edo grinned, the way he always did, and chose to ignore the state of him, “Entertaining the lonely, of course.”

There had, in fact, been a rather lovely girl who had wanted him to… Well. Edo shifted slightly, grabbing a glass to ignore the memories. Damn, that had been a good afternoon.

Luke’s smile didn’t even hit both corners of his mouth, “Of course.”

He hadn’t seen Luke in over two weeks, which was a very long time for two of them. Even when Sofia had still been in his life Luke would come round to the Old Boot for a pint and a plate of chips or a quick catch up.

“How’s work?” He asked, pulling a pint for him.

He knew Nick had had a couple of conversations with him, but he had remained remarkably tight-lipped about them, so he hadn’t pushed. Officially, he didn’t know how Nick felt about that, because he always shrugged and said he didn’t know Luke well enough to be crushing on him. But unofficially? Edo begged to differ. Nick was definitely a relationship kind of guy, so it had been difficult for him to walk away after a night of sex (apparently awesome sex, if his blush every time that night was mentioned was anything to go by) and a morning after where they’d discovered they had things in common (because he and Linda were awesome and kindred spirits and one day he was going to tap that) with only a number and no certainty of any future with this guy. Such a romantic, in his own way. It was probably screwing with his head a little bit, especially after Richard.

Nick had been happy for the first few days when the contact had happened, but now they clearly weren’t talking and though he tried to hide it Edo could tell that he was upset. After all, he’d known Nick longer than anyone else in London, if he couldn’t tell what the boy was feeling, nobody could.

Edo had texted Luke a couple of times himself, but got nothing back, so he’d not tried again, waiting for Luke to come to him instead. And here he was.

Luke shrugged, taking the offered drink, “Busy. Moving up in the world of marketing just means more work for me.”

He’d figured that Luke had got that promotion he had been talking about, because Luke was focused and hard-working and a good guy, often bringing in work to do while he waited for his friends in a booth by the window. That was a possible distraction.

“New corner office with wide floor-to-ceiling windows, beautiful secretaries at your beck and call, calling you ‘sir’… S’alright for some people, isn’t it?”

More likely he was avoiding his old haunts for a little bit while he wrapped his mind around living without Sofia. Edo knew Sofia hadn’t really approved of him, in all his foreign, tattooed, good-looking glory. She probably compared him unfavourably to Luke, who had all of the home-bred, English charm of a successful career man. Who was also fit as all hell. What? Edo was perfectly capable of admitting he was not the only good-looking guy in the room.

But Luke came back to the pub and spent time with him anyway, made small talk and asked questions and wanted to be friends, despite the occasional glare from Sofia, when she deigned to step foot in the pub.

“She hasn’t called you back, has she?” He said, somewhere between concerned and relieved.

“No. And I don’t think she will.”

“Oh?”

Luke didn’t even look at him, just continued to stare into his glass as though it would solve the mysteries of life for him.

“Yeah.”

Nick had been wearing a similar expression when he’d said goodbye to him last night. This was ridiculous. Both of them were pining, even if they didn’t realise it.
Edo glanced around to make sure no other customer needed him before diving into the conversation.

“Are you ok with that?”

Luke looked up this time, forehead gently creased, “I think so. She left me a letter, trying to explain.”

Edo nodded, not wanting to interrupt the train of thought.

“She said that she doesn’t love me. And I can deal with that.” He ran a finger round the rim of his glass, “And she’s with someone else now. Fine, I can deal with that too. It’s weird, not having her around, but it’s ok. I don’t miss her, really,” he looked up, frowning. Frustration, or reliving something, “I miss having someone around, but let’s be honest, that hasn’t been her for a while now. I’m not angry, I don’t resent her, only how she did it, how she left.”

And that was that. Fact. Pure statement of fact. No wonder he’d stayed away whilst trying to work this through.

“And that’s alright. She was right, we were living in a routine and I just don’t need her like I used to.”

Edo nodded again, watching Luke’s expressions shift as he explained himself.

“My mum says I’ve always been in it for the long run – sports teams, societies, clubs, friendships, relationships. I lived with Sofia as if she was going to mean the world to me forever and Sofia just didn’t. Feel like that or live like that. And she just doesn’t, and I don’t,” he paused, staring at his glass again, “I don’t want her back.”

“Good for you.”

Luke jerked his head up to look at him, “What?”

“Good for you. I think you’ll be better without her.”

“Yeah,” he said, wrapping a hand around his pint and cracking a smile, a real one, “Yeah. I think so too.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Edo acknowledged that Sam was looking pointedly at him, then across the room to where the Coopers had finished their meal and made a vague but just as pointed gesture towards Luke, who was staring at his glass again. He really was tired.
Sam sighed and went to deal with the empty plates himself.

“Hey Edo.”

“Yes, chaval?”

“Thanks for listening.”

“No problem. Anytime.”

Luke gave him another smile and glanced over his shoulder at the booth he usually sat in.

“You expecting people?”

“Lucas, Mitch and Tash will be by in a bit. I got blackmailed into coming here, but they’re not wrong, I guess. Socialising is good for you,” he said, imitating Tash, “You can’t hide in that flat forever!”

“She’s right, tío. Some fresh air and some hot babes, you’ll be fine in no time.”

Luke laughed and got up from the barstool, “Well, I know I can always come find you if I need a night out.”

“That you can.”

Luke walked over to the booth to wait for his friends, “Could you bring over a plate of chips, please? I forgot to have lunch today.”

Sam gave him the side-eye as he put the order through to the kitchen and Edo smiled winningly at him.

“Is your friend ok?”

“He will be.”

“Good,” said Sam wiping down a section of the counter, “He came in last week on one of your days off and looked like he was contemplating drowning himself in his pint.”

Edo looked over to where Luke was rifling through his briefcase, searching for something.

“Yeah, he’s going through a bit of a tough spot, his girl left him, but he’ll be fine. Better than before, even.”

“If you say so, mate.”

Dan pushed a plate of chips through to them from the kitchen, “Order up!”

Edo took them over, stealing one, mainly because he could, grabbing ketchup, salt and cutlery as he went past and decided that while Luke was his friend, Nick was closer than that and he should do what Linda called protecting their own.

“Hey, Luke?” he said, putting the plate down in front of him.

Luke looked up from his jumble of papers, “Yeah?”

“I’m happy that you know how you feel about Sofia, but I need to make sure you know what you’re doing about Nick.”

Luke fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, “I don’t know yet.”

He nodded, “And that’s cool, but don’t string him along. If you like him, tell him. Don’t make him wait for something that might never happen.”

Luke bit into a chip so that he couldn’t answer. Cheeky bugger.

“You both deserve good people and if it’s each other that’s awesome, but if it isn’t then that’s awesome too. Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know if he wants to see me. I haven’t really been around.”

Yeah, Edo knew. An unhappy Nick was strange and disturbing and wrong, and something the Epiphany staff had had to deal with in the past week.

“Text him. Easiest and most effective way to get hold of him at this time of day.”

A table on his left raised eyebrows at him until he went to deal with them. A table with two girls, and it wasn’t a date because neither was wearing perfume. Excellent.
He put on the most charming smile he could and took their order.

When he looked at Luke, the guy was staring at his phone, concentrating. He bit his lip when he pressed send.

The girls were lovely and indulged him in a bit of casual flirting, but left without leaving their numbers. Ah well. Such things did happen, even to Edo.

Luke got a text back about half an hour later, after his friends had arrived and ordered food. Judging by the look on his face and the noise his friends made at the sight, it was probably Nick.

“Hey Edo,” said Mitch, in his badly regulated indoor voice, “Luke’s getting a date! Give the man something appropriate to drink, yeah?”

So Edo was making his way over with a ‘Sex With The Bartender', because he was clever like that, when he got a text too.

Mitch roared with laughter when he told them what the drink was and he stayed long enough to mock Luke for the grin that he couldn’t hide, then excused himself to check his phone.

It was from Nick.

Thank you, hermano.

Hermano. Brother. Oh, Nick.

You’re welcome. I call dibs, the first child gets named Edo. The Magnificent.