Chapter 6 #3
Tristan’s tone was offended. “I’ve got some muscle, bitch.” By means of demonstration, he flexed his left arm. In the background, the series’ main title was just fading out.
“You’re scrawny as fuck. Now this”—Mo lazily gestured at Nate’s bicep, eyes half-lidded and voice sleepy—“is what I call muscle.”
Even in the dim glow of the screen, Leo could tell that Nate’s cheeks were flushed. He was rather proud that he didn’t burst out laughing, although the impulse became nearly too much when he found Joshua biting down on his bottom lip to stifle a grin, eyes bright. God, Joshua was lovely.
Leo’s distraction was to blame for how he agreed easily when Nate suggested they share the guest room. It did make sense, after all. Especially since the tube had stopped running about an hour ago, and Leo didn’t feel like dragging himself to a night bus or calling a taxi.
It made sense. Really.
He was weirdly charmed to learn that both Tristan and Mo kept toothbrushes at Joshua’s place. The obvious closeness between them, the way they didn’t seem to have any secrets from each other, it was… nice. Really just nice.
For Leo and Nate, Joshua dug out two new toothbrushes, still in their plastic wrapping, and then went to find them sleep shirts. He returned with two that looked soft-washed and well-worn, lingering in the doorway of the guest room to ask whether they needed anything else.
“I think we’re good, man,” Nate told him, while Leo looked around the room that contained a queen-sized bed along with a desk cluttered with various papers and what looked like printouts of articles.
Stepping closer, he caught headlines all related to speculation about Joshua’s sexuality.
A shelf with books sat beside the desk, and Leo’s gaze slid past spines that looked well-worn, lingering on a few familiar names—Franzen and Pamuk, Machiavelli, Goethe.
Some of those had been on the curriculum at Eton, others not.
There were children’s classics as well, and he didn’t let himself linger on those.
Leo turned away to give Joshua a smile that had to be edged with tiredness. “Thanks, Princeling. We’ll be fine. See you tomorrow, all right?”
“Okay. Good night.” Still Joshua hesitated for another few seconds before he nodded and left, gently closing the door behind him. The silence that settled in his wake was noticeable, and Leo shot a glance at Nate to find Nate already watching him.
“Think he was waiting for you to take off your top,” Nate said, a sudden grin twitching around his mouth.
“Not funny.” With a sigh, Leo sat down on the bed, the mattress giving under his weight. He hoped it wouldn’t be too soft; he’d slept on a camping mat so often that he’d come to find the floor more comfortable than one of those beds that felt like sinking into a marshmallow.
“Wasn’t meant to be funny.” Nate crossed over to the windows, drawing the curtains.
Halfway through he paused to take in the view, and after a moment Leo joined him.
Regent’s Canal lay beneath them, water reflecting the distant brightness of the city; most of the houses on the other side were still and quiet, their windows dark.
Leo propped both elbows on the windowsill and set his chin on his hands.
“This is so nice,” he said softly. “Imagine waking up to this view every day. Think Joshua’d notice if we just never leave?”
“Probably.” Nate’s tone was dry. “Not sure he’d mind, though. He seems to love having people around.”
Leo had been like that once—the life of every party, happiest when he was in the middle of a crowd. He kept his voice deliberately light. “Imagine what that’s like.”
“Yeah, imagine.” A significant pause followed Nate’s statement. When he spoke again, it was laced with caution, like someone treading on thin ice. “D’you realise that we’ve been mates for ages, but this is the first time we’ve spent the night together?”
Fuck. So they were doing this. They were going to have an actual, serious conversation when Leo already felt as though his thoughts were weighed down with exhaustion. Somehow, he worked up a cheesy grin and nudged his feet against Nate’s. “Aw, darling, you just had to ask.”
“Not what I meant, dickhead.” Without sparing Leo so much as a sideways glance, Nate shoved away from the window and went to change into one of the shirts Joshua had given them.
It was snug on Nate. Leo moved to do the same and found that the other shirt was loose on him, comfortable.
The faint scent of detergent triggered a sense of familiarity.
When he crawled into bed, Nate was already stretched out on the other side, a thin blanket pushed down to his waist, staring fixedly at the ceiling. The lamp on the bedside table showed the unhappy line of his frown, and all of a sudden, Leo felt drained.
He didn’t even know why he was still fighting. At this point, it had become a reflex.
“I know what you meant,” he said softly.
Settling on his side and tugging his own duvet up to his chin, he waited for Nate to look at him before he continued.
“Sorry. I’m adjusting, you know? Feels like everything’s changing right now, and it’s all going so quickly.
Like… It’s as if Joshua walking into our office started off a chain reaction.
I mean,” he snorted, “you’ve started wearing tank tops, for fuck’s sake. What is even happening?”
“I like what’s happening.” Nate’s shrug turned out awkward with the way he was lying down. “You’re a bit different, you know? Not like you’re a whole other person, but you’re starting to become more… open. Brighter, kind of. I like it.”
Somewhere in the flat, Tristan was singing a pop song that Leo vaguely recognised.
Then a thump, and he fell silent. The toilet flushed, followed by running water, and a door clicking shut.
Everything was quiet after that, and Leo wondered how Tristan and Mo had settled in next to Joshua—whether they were all up in each other’s space, legs tangled, sharing one duvet for the three of them.
When Leo had wandered into Joshua’s bedroom the first time he’d been here, he’d seen only one duvet, spread out over the large bed that had been built into an alcove.
Maybe Joshua kept spare blankets somewhere, just for occasions like this.
Leo shouldn’t care if Joshua shared his duvet with others. Or maybe he needed to give up trying to fool himself. Rolling onto his back, he punched his pillow into shape, Nate’s words ringing in his ears. You’re different. More open.
“When I was younger. Like, sixteen or so,”—Leo cleared his throat—“I had the worst kind of crush on Prince Joshua. It was embarrassing. You’d have laughed until you cried if you could have seen me back then.”
Nate made a noise that was trapped halfway between amusement and surprise. “Is that why you were such a twat to him? When you met him for real?”
“Yeah.” Glancing over, Leo tried for a grin, but it might have turned out as more of a grimace. “Well. We went to school together.”
“You bloody what?” In the stillness of the night, Nate’s voice carried, and he looked contrite right away. “Sorry,” he added, much more quietly. “You and Joshua? You went to school together?”
Leo raised a hand towards the ceiling and let it drop again. His chest felt a little tight, heavy, as though there was a weight pressing down on it. “Eton. I was a couple of years above him, though, and also very much a twink. I’ve changed quite a bit. Not surprised he didn’t recognise me.”
A short gap followed Leo’s words, then Nate raised himself up on his arms, studying Leo with a quiet half-smile.
“You know, that’s more than you ever told me about your past. I can see it, mate—little twink Leo, swaggering about the place as though the world was at your feet, being a little shit to your teachers, sneaking glances at everyone’s favourite prince in the hallways and during lunch in the dining hall.
” Nate paused. “Does Eton even have a dining hall, or would that be too, like…”
“Proletarian?” Leo finished for him. He snorted and shifted to get more comfortable, the mattress not quite as soft as he’d feared.
At least he wouldn’t wake up from dreams where quicksand was about to swallow him up.
“There is a large dining hall, yes, and half the houses eat there. Students are organised in different houses, you know. Like at Hogwarts.”
Nate chuckled, but stayed silent otherwise, gaze curious even as he clearly held back his questions.
Wading through his thoughts, Leo tried to bring them into a semblance of order.
“It’s all very posh—black tailcoat, waistcoat, stiff collar, although we were allowed our own clothes over the weekend.
” He felt his lips twist into a tiny grin.
“I had a colourful trousers phase that I would like to bleach from my brain, but I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it now. ”
“Do you,” Nate said, still with that quiet half-smile, “realise that your voice gets more upper-class when you talk about Eton? Your accent, maybe the words a bit as well. Not quite enough to give Joshua a run for his money, mind. But, yeah.”
“It does?” Leo considered it, and yeah, that made sense.
God, what a posh, sheltered twat he’d been back then.
“Anyway, so Joshua was in a different house, one that had its own dining facilities. Guess they didn’t think it quite right to have the Prince mingle with the masses.
He also had a bodyguard with him at all times, a burly bloke who lived in the room next door. Not Johnson, but someone else.”
“That must be so weird, living like that. Like, having someone else shadow your every step. He turned out all right, considering. Didn’t he?
” Nate didn’t wait for a reply, settling back down on his stomach as he turned to face Leo, his voice thoughtful.
“Doesn’t it suck that you know all this stuff about Joshua, and he doesn’t have a clue? You ever thought about telling him?”