Chapter 18
Nathan
“They’re my parents. I love them. But what they did… I can’t see why they thought it was in my best interests.”
Will’s voice is soft, his weariness obvious even through the tiny speaker of Nathan’s phone.
It's an effort to push away the familiar shadows, brought to the surface by the shock of Will’s Gift. His mind drifts back to the last time, Emily’s intel and his father's admission, a similar secret hidden from him since birth.
He shakes his head, forcing the shadows away. Now isn't the time. Will needs him. Will needs him, and he needs to be there in response.
His voice is steady when he speaks, thankfully. “Did they tell you why?”
Will sighs heavily. “Some bullshit about my Gift being weak enough that it would barely affect anyone.”
Nathan frowns, shifting against the pillows propping him up. “It didn’t look all that weak to me.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly measured the usual way. Plus my emotional state heightened it, apparently. Not uncommon, I’m told.”
“Makes sense.” Nathan reaches over to his bedside table, grabbing his water bottle and taking a deep pull.
Will doesn’t say anything. Seconds tick by in silence.
“Will?”
“I’m okay. Just… you know.”
Nathan’s skin itches with familiar outrage. “Want company?”
“Best not. Emotional state, remember? I don’t want to influence you.” Will sighs heavily. “Nate?”
A tiny thrill. Does Will realise what he’s done? He hasn’t called him Nate since the afternoon of their bonding. “Yeah?”
“How did you learn about empathic Gifts?”
“When I finished uni and went to work for my dad. I met a few people with strong empathic Gifts during my training.”
It remains the most eerie experience he’s ever had.
He tells Will about the windowless room, the nondescript man who did something so classified even Nathan’s dad didn’t know what it was.
The ring of uncomfortable metal chairs, the man working his way place by place, manipulated one by one into clucking like chickens, singing TV advert jingles, innocuous stuff to distract from how a Gift like that could actually be used.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Nathan listens to Will’s breathing, so much calmer now.
“It’s so weird, Nathan. Knowing I can’t touch you.”
“You can touch me, but I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I really want to, but I… I can’t take the risk. Aren’t you worried?”
“Not really. I’ve seen you use your Gift once, and the circumstances were pretty exceptional.”
Will makes a derisive noise, but there’s no bite to it. “I think I’ve been using it at work. And maybe some other times. So it’s not like you’re safe.”
“You’re not safe from my kinetic Gift either, but I’d never intentionally use it on you, same way I know you’d never intentionally use your Gift on me. But I understand. Where does this leave us?”
Will sighs, heavy with frustration. “I don’t know. I don’t want to doubt us, Nate, I really don’t.”
“What if…” An idea forms, catching on the jagged edges of Nathan’s hope as it unfolds. “What if we dated, but we didn’t touch?”
“What do you mean?”
Nathan springs upright, pacing the small strip of carpet at the foot of his bed. “Exactly what I said. We go on dates. No touching, no kissing. No way for you to influence me. Then you’d know. That it’s all real, I mean.”
Will doesn’t reply, silent for long enough Nathan knows he’s considering it. “But I’d have to touch you eventually.”
“I know. You’d have time to get used to the idea. You’d get to know me, see everything I feel for you without any chance of influence. You’d know… you’d know what I feel for you is real.”
“You’d do that for me?” Will whispers.
“Of course. If it helps, I’ll do it happily.”
A pause, stretching out just long enough to fray his nerves.
“It’s a good idea. Alright. You… alright.”
A grin spreads across Nathan’s face. “We’re dating?”
“We’re dating.”
There’s a smile in Will’s voice too.
They agree on dinner, a typical start to an atypical arrangement. Will chooses the restaurant, messaging a time and a place, booking made for his next free evening.
A handful of days limp slowly past.
On the morning of their first ever proper date, time slows to a crawl.
Every time Nathan looks at his watch, he’s surprised that only a few minutes have passed.
He tries to distract himself with a long run, but his mind is full of Will, full of hopes and fears and dreams, full of excitement for what’s to come.
Eventually the evening rolls around. Nathan gets ready carefully, pulling on black jeans and a green sweater that he knows clings subtly to his chest and arms.
Will is already sitting at the table when he arrives. He’s wearing a dark grey shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the smooth skin of his forearms and his tattoos.
Nathan removes his leather jacket, draping it over the high back of his chair and sitting quickly.
“Hi.” He folds his hands together on the crisp white tablecloth, suppressing the urge to reach out. “Our first official date. I’m excited.”
Will flashes him a hesitant smile. “Weird first date, with no touching.”
“Oh, not weird for me. I never touch on the first date. Gotta build up some anticipation.”
Will’s smile morphs into something more genuine.
The waiter arrives. Nathan leaves the wine selection to Will, looking around the restaurant as he orders.
It’s a traditional Italian place, all creamy textured walls and warm wood, clusters of candles flickering on shelves set around the room.
It’s busy, a mixture of couples, families and friends sharing delicious-looking plates of food, the air buzzing with conversation and laughter.
“This place is gorgeous. How’d you find it?”
“It’s pretty new, despite what the distressed interior would tell you. I haven’t been here before, actually. Alessia recommended it.”
“How’s Alessia? She enjoy her birthday?”
“Yeah, she did. She’s good. Thrilled to hear that you and I were going on a date tonight.”
Nathan’s eyebrows raise. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing about… you know.” Will shrugs, smiling at the waiter as he returns with a bottle of red wine.
“Understandable.” Nathan watches him taste the wine, remaining silent until both of their glasses have been filled. “What d’you wanna eat?”
After a little good-natured bickering, they decide on a few dishes to share as a starter, both of them opting for pasta for their main courses.
They discover a shared love of stuffed pasta, and Nathan learns that Will has a weakness for any kind of cheese.
A far cry from his teenage self, who stopped at cheese and ham sandwiches, the milder the better.
Nathan feels alive, vivacious in a way he hasn’t felt for a long time. He almost reaches for Will’s hand, redirecting at the last minute and picking up his glass instead.
Will smiles at him, and it’s like the sun rising, bright and hopeful despite the circumstances.
When the food arrives it’s clear they’ve ordered a bit too much.
“Taste this.” Will pushes a plate of burrata over the table.
It’s sublime, the firm exterior hiding a creamy soft centre. “Okay, that’s delicious, and you’re right, it’s completely different from mozzarella.”
He cuts another piece and offers it to Will, fork held out with clear intention. Will leans forward and takes the bait, lips closing around the lucky morsel. “I made mozzarella once, you know. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Took a lot of milk, though.”
“Wow. Is there anything you can’t do?”
Will smiles at him and nudges the last slice of bruschetta his way.
They feed each other bites until their plates are empty, distance maintained by spoons and forks. It makes up for the lack of casual touching a little, taking the edge off Nathan’s desire to be close to him.
He takes a sip of wine. “How’re you feeling about all this?”
Will’s face turns pensive. “Which all of this do you mean?”
“Any of it. All of it.” Nathan shrugs, letting him take the lead.
“Well, I’m still processing a lot of it. It was hard not touching people without gloves at work today. I felt kinda shitty about it, knowing I could be… you know. Should we be talking about this here?” Will glances around the restaurant with a frown.
“We don’t have to. But I do think it’s worth talking to someone about it sometime. You’re dealing with a lot.”
“Yeah. Maybe you could come back to mine, after? I’d love to talk to you about it.”
A thrill flashes through him, even though he knows the invitation is entirely innocent. He wants it to be the kind of invitation that’s a prelude to kissing on the couch, holding each other close, maybe slipping his hand beneath Will’s shirt, exploring his body.
He shuts the thought down, surprised at how quickly the change in their relationship seems to have loosened the leash on his desire.
Reminds himself he’s been waiting years for Will, even if he didn’t know it, and that it’s natural to want him, to pick up where they left off, even if they’re in an entirely different place right now.
He decides to make light of the situation. “Any other circumstances, I’d think you were coming on to me.”
Will’s lips quirk. “Any other circumstances, I would be. Are you okay with the fact I’m not?”
“If this is what it takes to prove to you that it’s real, then yeah, of course I am. Whatever you need.”
Just then, the waiter arrives with two bowls, one of ravioli, the other tortellini. Will murmurs his thanks with a soft smile on his lips.
The pasta is beautifully made, anointed with fragrant oil and herbs, and just as delicious as the dishes they shared to start. The tiramisu they choose for dessert is sublime, spoonfuls offered shyly and licked clean with coy flirtation.
Nathan tries very, very hard not to stare at Will’s mouth.
They emerge from the warmth of the trattoria into air so cold Nathan jams his hands immediately into his pockets. He’s thankful for the first kiss of winter, distracting him effectively from other types of kisses he’d far rather be receiving.
Nathan’s first glimpse of Will’s flat was draped in shadows, but tonight it’s the definition of cosy, as if Will was planning to bring him home all along. A string of fairy lights twinkle on a long bookshelf, a merry contrast to the pools of golden light cast by a trio of lamps.
Will makes two cups of tea, ever the attentive host, bringing them into the living room and depositing them on the scuffed coffee table before beckoning Nathan over to the cage.
“Since you didn’t meet them last time. This is Sausage,” he says, lifting her gently out of the cage and onto his shoulder.
He reaches in again, grabbing a wriggling bundle of sleek cream fur and settling her in the crook of his arm.
“And this is Egg. You can stroke her if you want, she’s very friendly. They both are.”
“She’s cute, I guess.” Nathan reaches out a tentative fingertip and strokes over the curve of her back. Her fur is silky soft, whiskers and nose twitching eagerly as she catches his scent.
“There are some treats in that box under the cage. Bring them over to the sofa?”
Nathan does as he’s told, watching with fascination as Will sits down carefully, two rats scampering over his shoulders. Almost immediately one of them jumps down onto the couch, bounding over and placing both paws on his thigh, gazing up at him curiously.
“Hello. This one is Sausage, right?”
“Yeah.” Will smiles, watching them together.
“Want a treat, Sausage?” Nathan takes a tiny yoghurt drop out the box and holds it carefully out.
Sausage hops onto his leg and grabs it with her front paws, nibbling happily.
Nathan’s heart melts. “Okay, that’s really cute. Her paws are so tiny! And she’s so delicate when she eats. Almost enough to make me forget about that tail.”
Will laughs. “Yeah, most people are a little freaked out by their tails.”
They toss the box back and forth, making the little creatures work for their treats.
“So.” Will looks up, an eyebrow slightly raised, his fingers stilling on Egg’s back. “You said you wanted to talk about it?”
Will sighs heavily. “Yeah. I’m just… it’s just weird, you know? There’s this thing I always believed about myself that turned out to be wrong. It makes me question who I am a bit. Like, if I was wrong about this, what else am I wrong about?”
Nathan inclines his head in acknowledgement. He wants to remind Will that people are so much more than their Gifts, but he chooses to remain silent, to let him talk.
“Part of me still doesn’t believe it. Doesn’t want to believe it.
” Will leans forward, retrieving his tea.
“But every time I touch someone, or someone touches me, I wonder what I’m doing to them.
And then I wonder if I’ll ever touch someone without wondering.
It’s doing my head in, to be honest. Mum said I could learn to control it.
She said she’d teach me if I wanted. And I do want, just not right now. I’m still angry with them for lying.”
Nathan nods slowly, stroking Egg’s soft fur as she runs past.
“There’s hope?” His eyes connect with Will’s, projecting sympathy and support across the space between them.
“There’s definitely hope.” Will smiles at him, projecting reassurance back. “Just need a bit of time, I guess.”
They sip quietly at their tea for a while, letting a comfortable silence blanket over them, cosy and serene.
Will shifts on the sofa, his legs shifting the tiniest bit closer to Nathan’s. “Life’s certainly been interesting since you came back.”
“Good interesting, I hope?”
“Definitely. I’m looking forward to more.”
Warmth blossoms in Nathan’s chest, gratitude and excitement and the sweet ache of anticipation. “Me too.”
“You’ve got a look on your face, you know.”
“What kind of look?”
“I’m not sure how to describe it. Hopeful? Wistful? I dunno. The kind that makes me want to crawl over this couch and kiss you.”
Nathan chuckles, lips tingling with a phantom kiss. “You can, if you like. Or not. Your call.”
“God, you’re so supportive.” Will presses his lips against his mug. Nathan’s never felt jealous of a mug before. “I appreciate this. Knowing that this is real.”
Nathan lets his lips fall into what he hopes is a flirty smile. “What do you mean by this, exactly?”
Will’s eyes turn playful. “If you don’t know, maybe it isn’t real after all.”
Nathan bites his lip, letting the effervescent tension stretch out.
Ten seconds later it snaps, dissolving into the kind of laughter that carries the warm amusement of a private joke shared between lovers.
Sausage climbs onto Nathan’s knee and winks at him.
Nathan kisses his fingertip and presses it gently between her ears. “Go on. Take this back to Will, since he won’t come get it for himself.”
She scampers across the sofa, on her way to deliver his kiss as Will holds his hand out, ready to receive it.