Chapter 25 #3
His friend is watching the group and, obviously tickled by what he’s observing, he mouths, ‘Three, two, one…’
‘You’re gay?’
Charles takes an extra sip and turns towards Spencer, who’s so hilariously bemused, it relaxes him a little.
‘I’m dating a guy.’
‘Yeah, so you’re—’
‘Dating a guy.’
‘I see… Is that… Is that new or did you always… I mean… Did you ever think of us as—’
‘Don’t give me a reason to break your left leg!’ Alex looks daggers at Spencer – who closes his mouth – then back at Charles. ‘I’ve got a thousand questions. But first, how have you been?’
‘Highly confused. It was a chaotic process. But I’m smooth sailing through it now.’
‘That was about him! Your cryptic investigation on the chair lift in Kitzbühel!’
‘Sorry I was ambiguous. Complete chaos back then.’
‘No sweat. You’re getting away with that.’
‘You broke Spence now,’ George says, clicking his fingers above the coffee table.
‘No, but I think I’m just gonna listen, because everything I’d say would be ignorant.’
‘You’re being wise, so you’re broken.’
‘Shove it once more.’
Charles gives Spencer an appreciative smile and looks at Phil, to get his reaction ahead of tackling Alex’s questions.
‘You’re quiet.’
‘I’m waiting to hear more about your relationship. Not much to comment on so far.’
‘It doesn’t matter that it’s with a man?’ Charles asks before taking another sip, very close to being at ease and eager to cross the finish line.
‘Why would it? I hook up with a guy every now and then.’
Charles and Alex spit their drinks out. George leaps up, but instead of telling them off for the mess, he claps his hands and starts waving his shoulders.
‘Ha! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!’
Phil sneers. ‘You didn’t.’
‘I absolutely did.’
‘I’m familiar with your M.O. You trick people into believing you’re all-knowing so they spill the beans, but in reality you—’
‘He works at that bowling alley where they all wear flashy Hawaiian shirts.’
Phil jolts and swings his legs back in front of him. ‘How the fuck do you know that?!’
‘I won’t reveal my true M.O.’
George is wiggling and offering a sheer contrast with the group.
Alex has frozen again, Spencer is pinching his lips so hard they’re turning white, and Charles is blinking fast to ventilate and reactivate his brain.
‘Tell me! We’re being careful, so I need to know who’s running their mouth and how they found out.’
‘It’s someone I’ve got so much dirt on, I made sure your secret was safe. I swear it is!’
Phil doesn’t seem convinced, but there’s no way George will talk in front of all of them, so he gives up for the time being.
‘Fine… Back to you, Ledwell.’
‘And back to you! What are you saying? You’re with a guy?’
‘No! Nothing serious. It’s casual, just for fun and—’
‘For God’s sake, Philip!’ Alex slams his bottle onto the table. ‘You’ve got a girlfriend!’
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m a tosser. Not a scoop.’
‘I need new friends.’
‘You need cake, Alex. Do you want some cake?’ George gestures at the kitchen. ‘There’s—’
‘No amount of sugar is gonna save this evening!’
Alex stands up, his fists clenched against his thighs, like the sorcerer he impersonated back in the day, about to conjure his powers to defeat evil. Until he starts crabbing between the sofa and the coffee table, and loses his impressive lustre.
‘Where are you going?’
‘For a walk! In that stupidly long corridor leading to the bathroom!’
‘Hey…’ Spencer twists his fingers. ‘Is it easier to meet guys? Maybe I should try if my date is a disaster.’
‘Sure,’ Phil says. ‘I reckon you’d be popular in gay clubs.’
‘Really? You second that, Chaz?’
‘I wouldn’t know…’
‘Oh, same. I’m speculating, I don’t go there.’
Phil smiles at Alex who’s reappeared in the door frame but spins around with a scandalised grunt.
‘I’m fuming, but I’m dying to hear about your boyfriend, Charles! Wait for me!’
‘You frequent gay clubs?’ George asks Phil. ‘And you call that being careful?’
‘Never in London. It’s always been more of a holiday thing. Didn’t think I’d meet someone close to home I can’t seem to get tired of, but shit happens.’
‘It’s always been…?’ Charles blinks again. ‘What does that mean? How long have you been… Well…’
‘Bi? Don’t know. Forever, I guess. I acted on it four years ago. I fancied him, went for it, enjoyed it, didn’t question it.’
‘And you never said a thing?’
‘Didn’t want anyone to make a big deal of something that’s not one to me.’
‘Very fair and very Phil of you. But it would have been such a smaller deal to me if… I knew and could talk to you about what I was going through.’
Phil shrugs, fatalistic and unapologetic.
‘So when you say it’s casual, do you—’
‘No, we’re not discussing my case. I’m sorry I stole your limelight for a minute. You wanted to talk about your relationship, that’s huge, so tell us more about Loris. Do we know him?’
‘No. Well, George does.’
‘He’s been vetted. He’s working wonders on Charles’ capability to work wonders on himself.’
‘Yes, he’s changed my perspective on many things.’
‘Thanks for waiting.’ Alex bumps into him, his face and hands dripping water.
‘Did you use my shower?’
‘I tried to cleanse my soul of the general dishonest vibe.’
Alex snatches the bowl of popcorn from the table and goes back to the carpet.
‘Now spill, Ledwell!’ Phil slumps back down. ‘Who is he? Where did you find him? How did you understand you were hot for him? Answer the last one first.’
Charles smiles and sits beside him, his limbs going slack now that all tension has deserted him.
‘It’s hard to pinpoint. From the start, I had a thing for his accent. But in hindsight, it was perhaps my heteronormative interpretation of a strong obsession with his lips. They’re insane.’
‘What’s heteronormative again?’
‘What accent? Where is he from?’
‘I need a visual. Show us a picture.’
A couple of hours later, Loris’ insane lips are heatedly keeping Charles quiet as they make their way up the creaking stairs. A bit worried about such a stunt, Charles only loses himself in the kiss once they reach the landing, which is when Loris breaks it to open his door.
Charles takes off his beanie, askew on his head from the intensity of the greeting he received. ‘So, as I was trying to say, they were amazed by your drawing.’
‘Cool.’
‘Alex follows you on Instagram now.’
‘Great.’
‘You don’t care?’
‘Clearly it went well, and you seem happy, so I’m happy.’ Loris yanks him inside the flat. ‘But I’m hoping details can wait.’
He sheds his jacket and unwraps Charles’ scarf to start sucking on his neck.
‘Hold on… You didn’t reply to my text. About my dinner with Elsy’s parents?’
‘I sent a thumbs up,’ Loris mumbles, sending his ten fingers up Charles’ torso underneath his clothes.
‘It wasn’t really eloquent.’
Loris mumbles again, in French this time, his fiery eyes boring into Charles’. ‘Are you gonna make out with her?’
‘No! Or just a peck, pinched lips, in case we have to say goodbye in front of them. Nothing more.’
‘No problem, then. Do what you’ve got to do.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Anything else? Or can we act out the obscene scenario I’ve had in mind all shift long?’
Charles’ blood rushes south. ‘Yes, let’s do that. Let’s do your thing.’
He doesn’t need specifics. His imagination is already running wild, fuelled by the life-or-death urge Loris seems to be boiling with.
‘You said I seemed happy and… I might be. Tonight. I think.’
Loris lifts his head from Charles’ chest. ‘You think?’
His lips are redder than ever, his eyelids are hooded over a shine and his skin is gleaming in the low light – an appearance that costs Charles the thread of his reasoning.
They’re still a clammy mess, lying on the manhandled sheet, because they haven’t gathered the will to collect the duvet discarded on the floor.
‘You’re not sure?’ Loris asks with a soft smile that contrasts with the energy he displayed a moment ago.
‘Happiness and I were estranged for a long time, I’m not certain I’d recognise it. But I can settle for whatever this is.’
‘Can you describe “this”?’
Charles ponders for a few seconds, caressing Loris’ chin.
‘It’s like… I have a mountain to climb, and I don’t know which one or how hard it’ll be, but it doesn’t scare me.
I’m ready and excited. About my possibilities.
About tomorrow. And at the same time, I could live in this very moment forever.
My now and my then, they’re equally great, and the sky is very clear above Charland.
I don’t know… Perhaps it’s just serenity.
But serenity goes hand in hand with happiness, doesn’t it? ’
Loris is fiddling with Charles’ pendant, his gaze caring and proud, and now might be a dash greater than then will ever be.
‘What do you think?’ Charles asks, his finger tracing the outline of Loris’ lips.
‘Happiness is in the bath.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I can’t define what happiness is for you, but if you believe this is it, then it is.’
‘What’s with the bath?’
‘There’s a wood sign in our kitchen back home, with a quote from Buddha, “There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path.” But my dad carved into it one night he was really drunk, before I was even conceived.
Now it says “Happiness is in the bath” and it’s our family motto.
My mum used it whenever I threw bath-time tantrums. I was stupid. My dad was right. Baths are the best.’
‘How are you coping in this flat?’
‘I throw shower tantrums when you’re not around.’
Charles combs Loris’ hair with his fingers. ‘Let’s sneak into my house next time they’re gone for the day.’
‘Or let’s plan the trip we talked about and book a room with a super large tub.’
‘Yes! Once again, let’s do your thing. Get your laptop!’
‘Now?’
‘I’ve just received my monthly “Good Ledwell boy” transfer. I can’t think of a better way to spend it than on a weekend of baths and sex with you. I believe petty satisfaction is a close relative of happiness.’
‘As you wish...’
But instead of rolling off him, Loris parts Charles’ lips with his tongue, and Charles lets him. Loris’ intentions never disappoint, and things should be as he wishes, always.
Charles would climb a full massif of mountains for him.
With him?
The future he’s looking forward to – even more so now that the support of his loved ones is guaranteed – involves Loris. Charles isn’t sure how, considering the countdown they hid under the rug, but he’s growing more certain of it with every breath they trade.
So once they will be done kissing and booking the most lavish hotel room, Charles will ramble on about his idea. About the Fred-story they could tell together, with words and drawings.