Chapter 8 #5
“So am I,” Joshua replied, and while it didn’t sound quite as firm as his previous words, it still didn’t invite further comment from Leo.
A moment later Joshua ended the call, and Leo was left sitting on the floor, phone pressed to his cheek, nose buried into a shirt that didn’t even smell like Joshua.
He counted to three while he inhaled, waited a beat and exhaled again, counting to three once more. Repeated it. The regularity soothed his thoughts. With each cycle, his lungs felt marginally wider, his throat not quite as raw.
Nate’s voice jolted him out of it.
“Leo?” Shock was clear in the name.
Leo hadn’t heard him approach, so it took him a second to gather his wits about him. He lifted his head and blinked his eyes open, the daylight painful. How long had he been out here? Couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.
He had yet to reply, had probably taken too long already because when Nate crouched by his side, gripping Leo’s shoulder, the concern on his face had heightened. “What’s wrong?”
Everything is wrong. The whole fucking universe is a bloody joke.
Leaning into the touch, Leo cleared his throat. “I’m in love with Joshua.”
“Oh.” Of all things, Nate sounded relieved. “I thought it was something awful. You only just realised?”
“This is awful,” Leo told him. “Like, there’s absolutely no chance there. At all. And I just—Jesus fuck.” There was so much more he should say, but right now, he couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t come.
Instead, he tugged on Nate’s wrist, and it took only a second before Nate got the hint. He moved in for a hug, and Leo sank into it. While he was holding on too tightly, Nate was kind enough not to complain.
For a short while they stayed like that—sitting on the dirty tiles, the afternoon grey and milky around them.
Eventually, Nate shifted into a more comfortable position.
“Did something else happen with Joshua?” he asked quietly.
“Last night, I mean. Something that’s got you all twisted over a phone call. ”
Leo burrowed into Nate’s T-shirt, voice coming out muffled. “You already know, don’t you?”
“I didn’t pry, if that’s what you mean.” Nate sounded careful, and Leo shook his head, but didn’t move away.
“Not what I meant. Just meant that you knew the moment you asked if I was all right. Earlier.”
“Suspected. You’re wearing his shirt,” Nate said. One of his hands slid up Leo’s back to tangle in the hair at his nape. “You’re also obviously not okay, so, yeah. Something happened.”
“Sex happened.” Leo sighed and closed his eyes. “Best I ever had, hands down. I didn’t think I was even able to click like that with anyone, but… yeah. Here’s to learning something new, I guess.”
“Huh. Always thought you weren’t interested in sex.” There was no judgment in Nate’s tone, just easy acceptance. If Leo could have crawled into Nate’s body—like, platonically—to hide out there for a bit, he would have done so. He settled for twisting both hands into Nate’s T-shirt instead.
“I…” Leo’s throat constricted. Now. He was doing this now. “I overdosed for a bit. On sex. In a manner of speaking. Lost my appetite.”
If Nate was in any way surprised, there was no physical evidence of it. His posture didn’t change at all, and neither did his tone. “Until Joshua?”
“Until Joshua.” Blindly, Leo nodded. “We fought, though. This morning. My fault, mostly, and it was…”
“Stupid?” Nate suggested kindly.
“Inevitable,” Leo said. He swallowed around the aftertaste of the word.
“But also somewhat stupid, yeah. I told him I fancied him as a teenager, wanted to give him something honest, and when he thought that was the reason we’d fucked—the only reason, just because of my teenage crush—I didn’t correct him. ”
“Shit, Leo. Why not?”
“It made sense at the time? Like, a reason why we couldn’t work, without having to tell him… everything.”
“So now he thinks you’re just like everyone else who uses him for his name? But that’s awful.” Nate gave a little tug on Leo’s hair. His thumb pressed into the back of his neck, a grounding kind of pressure. Leo lifted his head and felt Nate’s words like a punch to his gut. That’s awful.
Yeah. It was. It was. So why had Leo walked out without even trying to correct it? Jesus fucking Christ, he was an idiot.
He sat up. “I need to talk to him. Joshua. I really need to talk to him, but I don’t think—Fuck, he’d probably close the door in my face.”
Serves you right.
Nate didn’t say that, though. Instead, he dropped his hand to Leo’s elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Well, maybe. But I know you, so I think you could make him listen. If you really wanted to.”
“I’m not even sure what I’m ready to tell him.” The pressure behind Leo’s forehead was like a physical being, weighing down his every thought. It got marginally more bearable when he closed his eyes. Jesus, he was sixty shades of pathetic. “I’m pathetic.”
Three beats of silence, then Nate punched him. There was no force behind it, his fist barely even making contact with Leo’s shoulder, but it was enough to make his eyes snap open. “Careful,” Nate told him, frowning. “That’s my best mate you’re talking about.”
Unplanned, Leo felt his mouth twist into what had to be his first genuine smile for the day. “Your best mate’s a bit of an idiot,” he said quietly.
“Sometimes, yeah.” Nate smiled back. “But since Joshua isn’t actually in London today, my idiot best mate’s got until tomorrow to figure out what to say.”
“How do you know that?” Pausing for just a beat, Leo answered his own question. “Oh, wait. Mo told you?”
“Yeah. Talked to him a bit earlier, and he invited me to the England match tomorrow. He also, um.” Nate’s smile dropped, his hesitation palpable. “He, like, specifically asked me not to bring you. Seemed like he expected me to get it, so I acted like I did.”
Leo’s stomach relocated to some lower level.
“I told him I’d need to check with you first,” Nate added quickly.
“Your plans and stuff. It’s our usual pub night, after all.
But I thought… If you need to talk to Joshua, but he’s maybe not so keen to listen?
That’s probably your best shot, if you just come with me.
Always easier when there’s a bit of a buffer, right? ”
Slinging an impulsive arm around Nate’s waist, Leo tilted sideways to rest his head on Nate’s shoulder. His voice came out rough. “It’s not going to be easy, no. Not when the buffer is Tristan and Mo.”
Nate hummed and took his time replying. “Well, maybe it isn’t meant to be easy. You know?”
Yeah, maybe it wasn’t.
“You’d do that?” Leo asked. “Bring me along, even though Mo asked you not to?”
“He’d do the same for Joshua.” While the statement was firm, Nate’s muscles tensed up enough to be noticeable, and he shifted his position against the wall. “So he’ll just have to understand. If he doesn’t… It’s not much use then, is it? You’re part of my life.”
Leo’s body felt small and heavy. “But you want him to be part of your life, too.”
“Yeah.” Nate exhaled slowly, steadily. “Means I need you and him to be compatible.”
“You really are my best friend, you know that?” It came out wistful, and Leo tightened his hold on Nate.
The late afternoon was quiet around them, broken only by the low-level rumble of traffic and, distantly, the purr of a helicopter that buzzed in Leo’s stomach.
“One day, in the none-too-distant future, you and I will get spectacularly drunk together. And then we’ll talk about how we ended up here. ”
“I’m ready when you are,” Nate said, his tone not quite as decisive as he’d likely intended.
“Working on it,” Leo told him.
Nate’s response consisted of a quick smile which Leo returned.
For all that his body was still heavier than it should be, the memory of Joshua’s cool voice like a fresh wound, he did feel better than he had all day.
He’d need to tell James that they were off the case and then he’d go home, take a nap to catch up on sleep, maybe meet up with Nate to watch one of the matches that were on tonight.
And then, tomorrow, he’d figure out what he’d tell Joshua—if Joshua could even be bothered to listen. If he was willing to give Leo yet another chance, when he had already used up more than his fair share.