Chapter 9 #3
Taking another sip of his gin and tonic, Leo tried to focus on the game.
At any other time he’d be fully consumed by it, would find it hard to concentrate on anything but the Italian players pressing in on the English penalty area, keeping tight possession of the ball as they sought out gaps in the defence.
But with Joshua just a few feet away, with the way he draped his legs over Ed’s lap, gripping Ed’s arm each time the Italians came near the goal…
Leo took another sip and didn’t bother looking away when Joshua finally glanced over again.
This time, Joshua maintained eye contact for a slowly pulsing heartbeat, then his brows pulled together and he frowned.
Almost deliberately, he tilted further into Ed’s side, a challenge in his eyes.
Pressing his lips together, Leo directed his attention back at the TV. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. Whatever he’d been hoping to accomplish—well, he was ready to declare it a failure.
The last few minutes before halftime were torture; two Italian chances, one cleared on the line, the other by the goal post. When the whistle provided them with a temporary reprieve, Leo realised he’d somehow emptied his glass, and his body felt like a tightly coiled spring.
He got to his feet with a sigh, stretching, and countered Nate’s worried expression with a half-smile.
“Anyone want a smoke?” he asked no one in particular, already moving towards the terrace. Usually, Mo would have jumped at the chance to join in, but Leo wasn’t surprised when obstinate silence was the only response he received.
All right, then.
Leo answered Nate’s unspoken offer to join with an incremental headshake. He didn’t mind a few minutes to himself, some fresh air to clear his head and get the sad weight in his chest under control. It constituted a breach of his one-cigarette-a-day rule, but fuck, he’d bloody well earned it.
He’d only just lit up, was taking his first drag with his elbows on the railing and staring down at the Canal, when footsteps sounded behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder—and swallowed smoke when he recognised Joshua.
Coughing, he turned fully and tried to read Joshua’s expression in what little light spilled out of the living room. He didn’t succeed.
“Hi,” he said quietly, stifling another cough, smoke burning in his throat. Then he remembered Joshua had told him not to address him first and added a quick, rushed, “Sorry. You told me not to—”
“Thought you only smoked in the afternoon,” Joshua cut in. His voice was sharp and precise, and Leo’s body felt heavy all over. Heavier.
“One per day, yeah.” Leo cleared his throat. “Exceptions are made when I’m nervous or angry. Or sad, I guess.”
Stiffly, Joshua drew forward to lean against the railing. He was looking at the velvety evening sky rather than at Leo when he asked, “Why do you keep watching me? And with Ed, why do you—”
“Because I’m jealous,” Leo interrupted, and the word echoed in his head, jealous, jealous, jealous.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said it; he had no right, no right at all.
If he’d felt just a hint tipsy before, he was fully sober now, cold from the shadows that surrounded them and pressed in on his chest.
Joshua gave a snort that didn’t turn out quite right, his breath hitching.
“Fuck you,” he muttered, face still tipped towards the sky.
“You’re such a dick, seriously. I can’t believe you.
” One of his hands closed around the railing, and Leo fought to stay where he was, to keep from shifting closer—just a little, just a tiny bit, just enough that he would be able to soak up the imagined warmth of Joshua’s skin.
He took a deep drag of his cigarette and remained silent, staring at Joshua’s profile.
A few moments passed before Joshua spoke again, rough around the edges.
“I seriously just can’t believe you, Leo.
You just—you can’t not want me, then be upset if someone else…
And Ed isn’t even into dudes. That’s not—and even if it were, then that’d be none of your bloody business. You don’t get to ask anything of me.”
“I know.” It was barely above a whisper. The inside of Leo’s chest hollowed around the knowledge that it was true, that he’d had his chance—only it hadn’t ever been a chance at all. Not really. He continued after a beat. “And I never said I didn’t want you.”
Joshua made a sudden, abrupt move, not quite a flinch and not quite anything else. “It was clearly implied.” For all that his tone was harsh, Leo caught the hurt that shone through. He hated himself for it.
“No. It was what you chose to hear,” he said, exhaling, smoke curling up towards the sky. “But I didn’t correct you, I guess. I let you think we had sex because I used to have that teenage crush on you, and that was the only reason I wanted… It wasn’t. Isn’t. I’m sorry for making you think that.”
The silence that stretched between them felt like a thousand miles.
Joshua had turned to look at Leo, the night draining him of colour, his posture betraying uncertainty for the first time since Leo had arrived.
It gave Leo the courage to shuffle half a step closer, pure instinct as he reached out to touch Joshua’s face—and froze with his hand suspended in the air.
What was he doing?
“You do want me,” Joshua said slowly, so quiet it only just bridged the gap between them. He looked as though he’d been broken open, caught halfway between disbelief and hope.
Leo inhaled and dropped his hand. His intestines had rearranged themselves into a messy bow. “How could I not?”
“Then why?” Joshua asked, a hint louder than before.
The bitter taste of the gin and tonic coated the inside of Leo’s mouth and he turned away, tried to chase it off with another mouthful of smoke. He didn’t succeed.
“Why?” Joshua repeated. He crossed his arms, tensing up again, voice rising. “Nothing you say makes any sense. Are you just—”
“A guy like me doesn’t get to keep a guy like you. That’s not how it works.” The words were out before Leo could swallow them back down, escaping on a cloud of stale smoke.
Joshua shook his head, rapid and stubborn. He stepped closer, making it impossible for Leo to look anywhere else, and God, if Leo were to kiss him right now…
“I don’t get you at all.” Joshua sounded lost. “What do you mean? A guy like you, a guy like me—what does that mean? Is this about the stupid royal thing? Because, like, I know my life isn’t normal, but we can figure something out if—”
“It just is,” Leo told him.
“Explain.”
“I can’t.”
“No, that’s a lie.” Abruptly, Joshua took a step back and looked away. His voice had regained its cool quality, as though he were addressing a stranger. “No,” he repeated evenly. “It’s not that you can’t. It’s that you won’t.”
Leo shivered. There was nothing he could say in his defence, nothing at all, so he took another drag of the cigarette. His hand was shaking the tiniest bit, but Joshua had already turned away and couldn’t see it anymore.
When Joshua headed back inside without so much as another glance, Leo didn’t try to stop him. Just finished his cigarette before he returned to join the others in time for the second half.
Fittingly, England lost. As soon as the final whistle sounded, Leo got to his feet and uttered a half-hearted goodbye which only Tristan and Ed echoed. Joshua was staring straight ahead while Mo shot Leo one of his deeply unimpressed looks.
Nate followed Leo out, standing in the corridor with a rather helpless expression as he crouched down to lace up his trainers. “Leo—”
“You can stay,” Leo told him. He softened his voice and managed a smile that required conscious effort. “Seriously, you should. It’s not like I had much hope, right?”
Nate’s face dropped. “So he didn’t… I thought, when he followed you out…”
Second shoe. Leo focused on the simple, menial task and kept his voice low. “Mostly just came to yell at me. Except politely, and no yelling because it’s Joshua. So, you know.”
“I can come with you,” Nate offered. “Maybe grab a pint or something?”
After finishing with the laces, Leo rose to his feet and gave Nate a brief, impulsive hug. His chest hurt a little, but he refused to think about it. “Thank you,” he whispered, nose pressed against Nate’s throat. “Stay, though. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll just go home, catch up on sleep.”
“If you’re sure.” Nate didn’t sound convinced.
“I’m sure.” Leo wasn’t, but there was no way he’d rob Nate of the chance to set things right with Mo. Nate had already risked more than enough by taking Leo along when he shouldn’t have. “Go back inside,” Leo told him. “Talk to Mo. Don’t let this come between you two, okay?”
Since Nate was still hesitating, Leo gave him a gentle shove.
Nate took a couple of steps, then stopped and glanced back. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yes, you will.” Leo’s smile came just a tad easier. “Now go.”
This time, Nate complied.
As soon as he was gone, Leo felt his smile drop, and he lingered for a moment to listen to the jumble of voices drifting out into the corridor. Then he rubbed a hand over his eyes, straightened his shoulders and left.
* * *
A guy like me doesn’t get to keep a guy like you.
What did that mean? What the fuck did that mean?
Joshua felt like kicking something. Or like taking a swim, like diving deep, trying to hold his breath until his lungs were ready to burst with the need for air.
Had it been a line, a variation of “it’s not you, it’s me”?
It hadn’t seemed like a line. Not with the way Leo had reacted to Joshua’s presence today.
You do want me.
How could I not?
Leo cared. He just didn’t care enough to be honest.
And really, wasn’t that just ironic when Leo had been so quick to judge the first time they’d met. Wear it like a crown? Yeah, right. Leo was a hypocrite.