Chapter 10 #5
Something had changed, Leo thought dimly. The resignation, maybe. Yes, that’s what had changed—when Joshua had left Leo’s flat he’d looked resigned; now, he looked hopeful.
Leo’s chest hurt. He didn’t move from his position near the door as he watched Joshua draw closer. His fingers felt numb with how much he wanted to reach out and touch, body heavy with how he’d lost every right to do just that.
“What are you doing here?” Joshua asked, voice a soft rasp. Oh God, Leo wasn’t ready for this. A hundred decades couldn’t have prepared him.
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know anything anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he managed. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Joshua swallowed. “So you’re still scared,” he said softly. The brightness in his eyes drained away, and it felt like watching a car crash in slow motion, like the sun winked out by a cover of clouds. And it was Leo’s fault.
He shouldn’t have fucking come.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. His throat was burning with all the words he couldn’t say, still scared, you’re still scared, and yes, fuck, he was.
He’d never been more terrified. Joshua remained silent, looking at Leo with sadness tucked into the corners of his eyes, curled into himself, and Leo wanted him so much, so much.
“I wish—” Leo cut himself off abruptly.
“So do I,” Joshua whispered. “I wish it could be easy.”
I wish I could rewrite my history for you, Leo thought. Very lightly, he shook his head and made himself turn away, could barely force out a quiet, “Tell Nate I’ll be waiting in the car, please.”
Joshua let him go without a sound. Leo didn’t know why he’d expected anything different.
* * *
The moment the door closed Joshua returned to his armchair, sat down with all the poise he could muster—and then spoiled the effect by sagging into himself, lids pressed shut as he fought not to cry.
Almost instantly, Tristan squeezed in next to him, and then Mo was there as well with a warm touch to the back of Joshua’s neck and his voice pitched to a soothing murmur.
“Shit,” Nate said, lost and astonished, and oh, yes, Nate was still here and had to witness Joshua’s breakdown. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
I wish, Joshua’s mind replayed. I wish. I wish. I wish.
* * *
Normally, Leo was good at forcing all his thoughts away until they became static noise in the back of his mind. It figured that Joshua would strip him of this very last resort, too.
Fuck. Fuck. Whatever Leo had hoped to accomplish by seeing Joshua just that one time more… What had he been thinking? Curling up in the driver’s seat, Leo held his breath until his lungs felt swollen with blood, then exhaled. Repeated it.
By the time Nate wrenched open the passenger door, Leo’s breathing had stabilised and his heart was no longer trying to claw its way past his ribs. Slowly, he straightened in his seat and blinked his lids open to find Nate stooping low to stare at him.
After a silent beat that lurched in Leo’s veins, Nate slid into the passenger seat. His voice was impassive. “You lied to me.”
When had Leo—oh. Yeah. He’d played it so as to keep Nate from digging deeper, but by doing so, he’d implied that the distance between him and Joshua had been Joshua’s call.
“I didn’t lie,” Leo said carefully. The dim light in the underground car park clouded his brain.
Nate scoffed, a sound edged with hurt. “You implied that he didn’t want you, and that, like—you said you can’t make him happy. Which is such bullshit, because the guy is—”
“I told him I’m in love with him,” Leo interrupted. “He didn’t say it back.”
Nate’s frown was dark and stubborn. “That makes no sense. The guy is completely gone for you.”
Leo’s heart gave a sharp throb, everything grinding to a halt. It took him a moment to catch up with Nate’s next words.
“I mean,” Nate sounded helpless, “the way you’d been acting, I thought he’s the one who broke your heart. But this whole thing has hit him just as bad. Leo, he cried. You did that.”
No. No, no, no.
Leo couldn’t think.
He squeezed out words past the choking sensation that had gripped his throat. The car felt claustrophobic. “He’ll get over it.”
Nate was quiet for several seconds, studying Leo with a heavy gaze.
When he spoke, it was uncommonly solemn.
“Yeah. He will. Eventually, he will. But do you realise what that means? He’s the country’s sweetheart, mate.
If he gets over you—when he does, at some point…
” He shook his head. “You won’t be able to escape.
It’ll be all over the papers, him with someone else.
Are you ready for that? Seeing him smile at someone else, kiss someone else—”
“Stop,” Leo broke in. He couldn’t fit enough air into his lungs. “Stop.”
Nate made to grip Leo’s shoulder, his hold tight enough to border on painful. “Explain it to me,” he said. “Because I don’t fucking get it. Why are you denying yourself the only thing I’ve ever seen you want for yourself?”
Because it’s hopeless. Because I’d destroy him.
“Because I just… There’s…” Falling silent, Leo sank lower in the seat, a sickening weight in his stomach.
Nate dropped his hand and leaned back, away. His voice carried disappointment. “Fuck, Leo. Will you ever stop running?”
A small, nasty part of Leo wanted to hit back, call Nate a bloody hypocrite who had no right to go casting stones.
But… Jesus fucking Christ, it wasn’t true.
If Leo were to share a slice of his past, he knew that Nate would be ready, would match him step for step.
The other way around… not necessarily so.
Leo’s belly felt bloated with anxiety, as heavy and swollen as his lungs. “Tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he got out.
It clearly took a couple of moments for Nate to understand, then he smiled. Somehow, Leo managed to smile back. His body expanded around it.
While Leo drove them home, Nate called in to let James know they wouldn’t be at the office before noon. They handed the car back and then lingered in front of Nate’s door for an awkward moment, the reality of their impending conversation pressing in on Leo. Nate looked just as uncertain.
“How about,” Leo suggested, “we grab tea and breakfast somewhere? And then maybe just… walk?”
“Sounds good,” Nate said quickly. The idea of moving while they talked seemed to settle him just as much as Leo.
They descended the stairs in silence, close together, and stopped at a café down the road. Steaming cardboard cups and pastries in hand, they emerged back outside. The worst of the morning rush was over, the sun warming their faces and promising a clear day.
“Left or right?” Leo asked quietly, and Nate twitched his shoulders.
“Doesn’t matter, does it?”
“No. Not really.” For no particular reason Leo turned left and carefully sipped at his hot tea as he started walking, Nate falling into step. Another minute dragged by in silence, less awkward now that they weren’t just standing there, the tension between them more thoughtful, hesitant.
It was Nate who broke it. He inhaled deeply, swallowing down a bite of his disgustingly healthy-looking oatmeal scone. “So. Shall I go first?”
Leo twisted a piece off his own caramel scone. “If I had to take a wild guess,” he glanced at Nate’s profile, “I’d say you worked for the government. Hacking into computer stuff, probably.”
“Computer stuff?” Nate repeated, an amused tilt to his voice even though his expression tightened for a moment, a flash of discomfort in his eyes.
“Computer stuff.” Leo nodded. Veering off to the right, he nudged Nate in the direction of the Thames. “However, that doesn’t explain why you had, like, some kind of military training. Unless that’s standard protocol, I don’t know. And why you’re so keen on taking the passenger seat.”
“It’s a control thing,” Nate said. “Like, I’m not traumatised or anything, and I do know how to drive, but…
” His words were slower than usual, almost as slow as Joshua’s diligent way of building sentences like a child assembling bricks.
“It’s just that for a while, it reminded me too much of what I used to do, so I avoided it.
And now it’s been years since I was actually behind the wheel, so I feel a bit uncomfortable because of that.
Still like to have a chance at interfering though, if something’s about to go wrong. ”
“Go wrong how?”
“Just, um. Like, people shooting at the tyres. Chasing our car.”
“Right.” Leo coughed. “The usual.”
“I know it’s not an actual concern anymore.” Nate’s face twisted in embarrassment, and Leo wanted to kick himself.
“Sorry,” he rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to… belittle that. Honest. I’m just struggling to grasp the concept. Doing something where that’s a valid possibility, like, how?”
“I was the driver.” Nate paused for a sip of tea, steam rising as he blew across the surface.
His forehead furrowed as he appeared to search for a way to continue.
“The one in the background, you know? Driver doubling as a bodyguard, entering gatherings in the wake of some diplomat or some such. So easy to miss the people in the background.” There was no bitterness in his tone; he was merely stating a fact.
“Allowed me to slip away and retrieve information, the kind of things that interest a government.”
Holy shit. Yeah, so that wasn’t too far from what Leo had suspected already, but hearing it confirmed still made a difference.
He let it settle for a minute while they approached Tate Modern, the brick building with its looming chimney an imposing presence against the blue sky.
Leo had spent a few nights huddled underneath the footbridge that branched from the Gallery to the other side of the Thames, but he’d soon learned it was one of those spots frequently patrolled by the police.
Some officers had been kinder than others.
Drinking from his tea, he sloshed warm liquid around his mouth and swallowed before he asked, “So how did you get pulled into that line of work? How does one become a hacker spy agent… thing?”