Chapter 3 #3
While Leo had apologised before, it sounded as though he actually meant it this time. So Joshua took a deep breath and nodded, reaching across the table to touch the back of Leo’s hand. “It’s fine. Let’s forget about it.”
Just as Joshua was about to retract his hand, Leo grasped it for a quick squeeze. Still, he let go sooner than Joshua would have liked. “Clean slate, then?”
“Clean slate,” Joshua confirmed.
They smiled at each other for a long beat that shivered in Joshua’s bones, warm and bright. Then Leo sat up straighter and clapped his hands.
“Now, with that out of the way? Let’s get down to business.” He tipped an imaginary hat at Joshua. “We’re going to make a list of pros and cons. Structured, rational, irrefutable. Like proper adults. Adults who get a biscuit for each good argument they find.”
A list. A list of pros and cons that might tip the scales in favour of a coming-out. Joshua’s stomach clenched around nothing.
Okay. He could do this. It was why he’d asked Leo over, after all.
He could do this.
Hoping that his momentary freak-out had gone unnoticed, Joshua saluted Leo. “I accept your terms, dear sir. Will we require vodka for this undertaking? Desperate times and all.”
“No vodka before five in the afternoon.” Leo’s grin was wide, almost manic. “What about sparkling wine? That’s acceptable any time of the day.”
“I like the way you think,” Joshua told him. With that, he rose from his chair and went in search of alcohol. As soon as he was inside and out of view, he stopped for a second, one hand against the wall, his heart beating high up in his throat.
Okay. Okay. He could absolutely, totally and definitely do this. He was ready.
He was not ready at all.
But he was going to do it all the same.
Pushing away from the wall, he continued on his way into the kitchen and ignored the gently swaying motion of the floor under his feet.
* * *
One bottle of sparkling wine and a package of biscuits later, they’d jotted down thirteen arguments to support a coming-out, and eleven reasons to stay in the closet. Not altogether helpful, really.
Leo could tell that Joshua was growing increasingly frustrated and confused, when the goal had been to achieve the opposite.
They’d moved over to the outdoor bed—sofa—a while ago, and Joshua was stretched out on his stomach, glaring down at the piece of paper as though personally offended by how it didn’t provide a clear answer.
Briefly, Leo considered suggesting that they weigh the different arguments, rank them by importance and likelihood of occurrence.
But Joshua needed additional complexity like he needed another Johnson in his life.
Speaking of needing things, Leo wouldn’t mind another glass of sparkling wine. Except for how his blood was already sizzling like a well-shaken fizzy drink, on the verge of spilling over. More alcohol would be a bad idea.
Leo excelled in those, though. See: agreeing to spend the last two hours in Joshua’s sole company.
Fuck. It had been years since he’d been truly attracted to someone, but right now, his body was in a muddled state of yes-yes-no, perplexed at his past colliding with his present.
He really wanted to twine his hands into the mess of Joshua’s curls.
He also wanted to dance his fingers down the curve of Joshua’s spine and slide them underneath his top.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Shifting a little further away, he crossed his legs and tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, the day heating up with noon drawing close, warm air wrapping around him like a heavy cloak in spite of the canopy that protected them from direct sunlight.
Warm air, yes. It was the only reason he felt restless and buzzing.
Nothing at all to do with his teenage crush right there, within easy reach.
“This is useless,” Joshua announced suddenly.
“It’s not helping at all.” He dropped the pen onto the floor where it landed with a clatter, rolling into a gap between two wooden boards.
For once, he seemed every bit like the spoilt brat Leo had expected when Joshua had come into James’ office—and Christ, had that really only been yesterday?
“I never promised a fucking miracle, little prince,” Leo said.
Immediately, Joshua twisted to look at him.
His expression was stricken. “Not how I meant it, Leo. I’m so sorry it came out that way.
I just meant—not that our talk was useless.
Or this, you coming over.” His lips parted for a deep sigh.
“I’m just annoyed with myself, I think. Like, I have all the pieces right here, so why can’t I just look at them objectively and figure out what the hell I should do? ”
And just when Leo had thought he might win back a shred of healthy irritation, of distance, stupid Prince Joshua disarmed him by acting all lost and vulnerable.
Who’d given Joshua the fucking right to be…
this? This mix between the pretty boy Leo’s teenage self had obsessed over and the young man who was no less attractive.
Oh, hey, and since Leo was asking questions already, who’d declared it okay for Joshua to cook Leo a full English breakfast, and have it taste good?
Who’d allowed Joshua to be the kind of person who struggled with wanting to do the right thing, the kind of person who chose words slowly, as though each one deserved undivided attention?
Was there some higher deity Leo could appeal to?
He must have been fucked in the head to agree to this meeting. This was the opposite of getting closure.
Leo drew his knees up to his chest and took the list from Joshua, skimming through the items. Kiss someone in public had been underlined, as well as Wouldn’t need to fear outing by someone I trust. In the contra column, Joshua had added an exclamation mark behind How will this affect Mum and Emma?
What if this is the thing that breaks us?
“Are you really worried that a coming-out could end the monarchy?” Leo asked. “Don’t you think that’s a bit dramatic?”
“I don’t know.” With a groan, Joshua rolled onto his back and threw an arm over his face.
His voice came out muffled. “I don’t know.
Maybe I’m too scared, or maybe it’d have the people storm Buckingham Palace and declare everything public property and then my whole family will be executed at the gallows and it’ll be my fucking fault. ”
“You realise the death penalty’s been abolished, right?”
“Exceptional circumstances. One-time reinstitution.”
“Joshua. That will not happen.” Leo fought the temptation to combine his words with a touch to Joshua’s elbow, anything that would get the Prince to look at him.
“People love the whiff of scandal, and if it’s carefully planned, it could even increase your popularity.
If we make it clean and innocent, spin it into a sweet love story, maybe…
” A sudden idea occurred to Leo, and he turned it over in his head.
It just might work. “Mo could pose as your boyfriend for a while. You’d make a gorgeous couple, and there’s the friends-to-lovers narrative that never fails to attract.
And he’s already a public figure, so it wouldn’t be quite as much of a shock to him. ”
“Throwing other people under the bus?” Joshua peeked out from behind his arm. His eyes held the faintest glint of humour. “Not the act of a gentleman, is it? Shouldn’t you recklessly offer up your own person? You could be my boyfriend. For God and country and all that.”
You could be my boyfriend.
Leo’s chest felt abruptly tight. “It won’t be me,” he snapped, blinking away the cobwebs in his brain.
“I was kidding. Jesus.” Joshua sat up, moving away. His posture was tense, muscles coiled tightly as his gaze flickered to settle on a spot behind Leo. “I know you don’t like me, but there’s no need to—”
“That’s not what this is about,” Leo interrupted. “It’s really not that.”
Fuck. Fuck. Why did he keep putting his foot in his mouth when Joshua was around?
Of course he had been joking, blissfully ignorant to how there was no way, absolutely no way, Leo could put himself in a position where past and present might become even more tangled.
Or—worse—where people might be tempted to dig into his background.
“What, then?” Joshua sounded sceptical and hurt. “You’ve got a boyfriend already? You won’t be publicly associated with a noble? You took a vow of celibacy, and holding my hand in public would be a breach?”
Leo shook his head and took great care in smoothing the list out on his thigh. “Nothing like that. I’m simply not boyfriend material, trust me.”
“You’re not any kind of material,” Joshua said.
“You’re missing the point.”
“I’m really not.” The edge of anger to Joshua’s voice was strangely unsettling. “You are.”
Their gazes caught and held, each second chipping away at Leo’s defences, tugging at his nerves like strings pulled to the point of tearing in two. Fucking Prince Joshua, though. He didn’t know a single thing.
Leo looked away first. It felt like defeat.
“Okay. Moving on.” He held up the piece of paper and strove for a calm, even tone. “What it really comes down to, I think, is that you have three choices.”
“Leo—”
“First off,” Leo spoke right over Joshua’s attempt at an interruption, “you can come out at your own pace. Secondly, you can stay in the closet and date guys in secret, running the risk that someone will out you and you have no control over how it happens. Thirdly…” He glanced up to find Joshua watching him intently, and it had him miss a beat.
“Thirdly, you can dig yourself so deeply into the closet that there is no gay behaviour to discover. In other words, you can completely deny that part of yourself.”
Joshua’s throat moved when he swallowed. “I don’t think I can do that.” He sounded deeply unhappy, gaze skittering away. “I don’t think I want to.”