Chapter 24
“I thought there might have been some progress there?” Matthew settled into his seat, largely done with his food and mostly done with his cider. They had taken a table up near the front this time. Other folks had claimed the quieter spots toward the back.
The meeting had been fine. Not wonderful, not horrible, but he thought Claudio had been rather more frustrated about the whole thing than he’d let show.
Mutual agreement had kept the conversation on comfortable topics for a bit— bohort, the weather, current gossip about events at the approaching Midsummer Faire.
The pub had filled up now, with more people coming in, but with the privacy charms in play, it wasn’t putting Matthew too much on edge. It was chilly enough out that people were looking for inside spots, but with the high spirits that came with springtime.
Claudio shrugged, a little tense motion Matthew was getting better at reading. “It could be better. I can see the shape of how it could go better. I just don’t know how to get there.” He looked up, and his face softened. “Sorry, I’m chewing on a problem and I expect it’s making me intolerable.”
“Not so I’d noticed. I think your calibration of what I find intolerable might be a tad off?” He hadn’t been sure about saying it, but then there was the brief flicker of Claudio’s mouth again, and he thought it was fine.
“I’ve been called an arrogant bastard often enough. Admittedly, mostly when I was younger, and usually not to my actual face.” Claudio shrugged. “It’s not kind to let it show, though.”
“I mean, I’m up for a half an hour rant with diagrams if you want, if it’d help.
Longer could probably be negotiated. Don’t have a handy blackboard, though.
” That got Matthew another small smile, so he felt he was going in the right direction.
“You do that with your friends sometimes, right? What do they say about it?”
“Usually, roll up their shirtsleeves and help?” Claudio tilted his head. “That’s unusual, though. Plenty of people get bored. Even the people who like solving problems don’t really get on with the administrative ones.”
“Do remember who you’re speaking with, Claudio.
” Sometime later, probably tonight in bed in the dark, Matthew was going to be simultaneously delighted at coming out with that phrase and sure he’d done a dozen things wrong in saying it.
“I both like administrative puzzles, perhaps unreasonably much, and I am particularly interested in this one.”
It was at that point that someone threw something across the room. Claudio actively flinched. Matthew hadn’t seen that before. He immediately said, “Look, want to come to mine and keep talking? I’ve got a tea kettle and some things to drink, and a sofa without risk of— what was that?”
“Ball. Leather, modelled on an American baseball, but the size is wrong.” Claudio said it automatically, then he shook his head like a dog flinging water out of its coat. “Sure I’m not putting you out?”
“Sure. Come along, it’s not far?” They’d already paid up, so it was a matter of waving a hand at York so he’d clear the table and gathering their things.
The air outside felt crisp, but it was a pleasant feeling, since it was only a few blocks to Matthew’s flat.
He let them in, touching the warding and then going ahead so he could get the lights.
As his hand touched the lamp and brought up the charmlight, he was suddenly nervous.
He’d left the place tidy, as he always did.
But he had no idea what Claudio would make of it.
In point of fact, Claudio stood in the doorway to the sitting room for a moment, then let out a long sigh. “Boar, right. But not one of the ones who thinks everything has to be red. This is snug, isn’t it? And quiet, you’re right about that.”
“Loo’s on the other side of the kitchen, past where we came in.
” Matthew gestured at the two half-open doors.
He didn’t close those routinely. Mum had a thing about air flowing freely, and he couldn’t say she was wrong about it.
“Tiny library with a desk there, bedroom’s that door. Sit where you like?”
Claudio came in properly, then let out a soft whistle as he took in the lamp. “Now, that’s lovely. Both the lampshade itself and the way the light comes through. Gabe’s mother has quite a line in stained glass history, but I’ve not seen something like that before.”
Matthew perched on the sofa, leaving plenty of space for Claudio.
“From that shop, the one we were looking at a while back? Aelfdane’s Art and Antiques.
The cushions are from there, and he’s got someone making a rug to go with them.
” Matthew had put in the request, what, three weeks ago now.
Then, because he might as well keep going.
“Look, we haven’t known each other terribly long.
But you’ve said things, a couple of times, that make it clear that you think what you have is sort of conditional.
Not with everyone, but with most people? ”
There was a brief twitch of Claudio’s shoulder.
But then he glanced around and sat, close enough that there were only a few inches between their knees, not jammed against the corner.
The light from the lamp lit him, and Matthew had to bite his tongue to remind himself not to focus on how attractive that was, all of a sudden.
He’d never been someone who cared a lot about looks.
Sensible caution or hygiene had won out, depending on whether he’d been looking for something quick or not.
But Claudio certainly brought looks with him, as well as brains and what Matthew had long-since realised to be a deep river of caring about doing the thing right.
Whatever thing might be under discussion.
And now there he was, on the sofa, where Matthew could reach out and touch him, if he were brave enough.
“Probably because it is. People want specific things from me. Sometimes also for me. Mother’s definitely both prepositions.
My friends want me happy, though I don’t know that any of us entirely have a sense what that looks like.
And I’m thinking a lot about patterns, they haven’t settled yet.
The sort of thing where moving one piece is going to change everything else. I’m sorry, I’m a mess. Boring, too.”
“First, I’m fairly sure I can’t blame other people for being a mess when I’m a mess.
I mean, it took me months to work up to decorating this place, not just existing in it.
To having habits of seeing people.” Part of him wanted to reach and grab for something.
But he still did not know what Claudio actually thought.
Friendship seemed clear enough, but anything more than that had to be wishes and fantasies, surely.
He’d had no sign that Claudio was interested in anything else, for one.
And he’d become nearly as adept at spotting that over the years as he was at dealing with files and meetings.
Now, he shrugged and gestured at the room.
“Thanks to you, some of it.” He gestured.
“The lamp. The idea I could, what’s the word. Have a space.”
“Really?” Claudio leaned forward. “Me?”
“You.” Matthew had a hundred things he wanted to say, but he wasn’t remotely sure what would be welcome.
Claudio had touched his hand a fortnight ago, but he hadn’t done it last time.
That could just have been chance— a different table, a different conversation, all that.
It could have been something else. Matthew wouldn’t presume.
“Anyway. I like your company so far. I’ll tell you if I don’t, clear as I can.
I’ll make oath on it if that helps?” Then he paused.
“Um. I might want help sorting out the proper wording. I’m used to the set ones. ”
Something that made Claudio chuckle. “Someone pointed out to me this past week that I shouldn’t dismiss my ritual skills.
Not necessary, actually.” He tapped his fingertips together.
“Look. There’s at least three things going on, and I don’t know how they’re going to come out.
Well, I’ve got some ideas about one of them, and it’s no help at all.
It’s the— let’s say it’s the chaotic factor.
Good, probably. I think good?” He looked momentarily haunted.
“What are the three things? Can you say that much?” Matthew leaned forward a little. He felt eager, like the moment before taking off racing, feeling the way the ground slid and felt against his feet.
“The patterns, that’s one. That chaotic factor.
And then.” Claudio glanced away, then looked back steadily.
Then he tilted his head, as if he’d come to a particular decision.
“I suspect I’ve been confusing you. Certainly confusing myself.
It’s the sort of thing I don’t talk about much.
I’m terrible at wanting things, letting myself want things. ”
Matthew nodded slowly at that. That made sense, for one. And it was an entirely common sort of problem in Albion. Even more of one for people from Claudio’s sort of family, he was sure. “I can certainly give you grace about that bit. Easy to.”
Claudio snorted quietly. “I don’t even know what I want exactly.
But I like spending time with you. I like how I feel when I’m with you.
I think about you when you’re not handy, in a way I don’t do about most people.
But I don’t know if I can, um.” He stopped and swallowed hard.
“I don’t know if it’s good or kind or ethical to do that, to want that.
To do anything about the wanting, whatever it is, when I think I might need to go be incredibly difficult at people as a matter of, of... ”
Matthew couldn’t find a word to say, so he didn’t. He just was there, waiting, hanging on the next words.