Chapter Thirty-Two Si
Si headed home alone, caught in an unholy battle between elation and sadness. And a hefty dollop of nerves, he wasn’t gonna lie, cos what if Zig had second thoughts by the time he finished his shift?
No, that was daft thinking. Zig had said he loved him. Elation surged to a victory, and Si practically skipped round the corner. All he needed was an umbrella and a sudden downpour, and he could reenact the “Singin’ in the Rain” bit from that film his mum was so keen on.
Course, it’d probably look a bit different with a large, hairy biker doing it. Might get him a few funny glances, and his mates would piss ’emselves if they saw it.
Sadness rallied. Adam hadn’t been happy with the news. Should Si have said what he had to him? He’d made it sound like he didn’t care what Adam thought, which was bollocks. Si cared all right. He just wasn’t gonna live his life by it.
Maybe Adam would come around? Be okay with things, once he’d had time to get used to it all? Once he’d got to know Zig—the new Zig—better? That was never gonna happen, though, if Adam refused to take the chance. Well, there was nothing Si could do about that right now.
Si let himself into the flat, took off his boots, and grabbed a beer from the kitchen.
The place felt empty without Zig in it. Too quiet and definitely not colourful enough.
He sat on the sofa. Zig’s bedding was rolled up at one end.
Si smiled. Might as well bung that in the wash. Zig wasn’t gonna be needing it anymore.
Or was he? Maybe he’d still want his space, despite them being together now? They hadn’t actually talked about what that meant. Si had been assuming it meant sharing a bed, but he shouldn’t go taking Zig for granted, should he? He took a contemplative swig of beer.
It wasn’t like they’d ever actually slept together before. Even when he’d sneaked Zig into his room at Adam’s dad’s, Zig had always left before morning, joking about his dad changing the locks if he stayed out all night.
Course, maybe it hadn’t been a joke after all. There wasn’t a lot Si would put past Zig’s dad, despite never having met him. He didn’t want to; he’d heard enough to know that. Zig was well away from that bastard.
Si took a hefty swig of his beer and wished he could fast-forward time to when Zig would be home. He nodded at his twelfth Doctor figurine. “Bet you never had this problem when you were waiting for River. Lucky bastard.”