Chapter 10 #6
Nate snorted softly. “Wowed by your eloquence, mate.”
“As you should be.”
“Always. And as for your question…”—Nate shrugged—“I grew up—I was one of those orphan boys in the system, you know, and if you’re different, poor, no parents… Other kids can be cruel.”
At a certain point in his life, Leo might have been one of those other kids. He inched a little closer, their elbows bumping, and waited.
“Got me into martial arts,” Nate continued. “Had a bit of a knack for it, caught the eye of a scout. Seemed like the perfect opportunity to prove myself, you know? Show that I could be so much more.”
It sounded familiar—that thirst to prove someone wrong, to be better, brighter than they could have ever expected. “So what changed?” Leo asked.
Nate dropped the rest of his scone into a rubbish bin. The birch trees that framed the grass in front of Tate Modern whispered above their heads, people sprawled out on the green—such a contrast to the hesitation in Nate’s voice. “I obtained some information we’d been looking for for a while.”
“Information?” Leo prompted when Nate fell silent.
After a sip of tea, Nate gently shook his head, gaze fixed on the ground.
“Location of a terrorist. Nasty piece, but when our guys got in there…” It was so quiet that Leo barely made out the words.
“I didn’t hear about this until a couple weeks later, but there’d been casualties.
Two kids. A wife. A servant who probably didn’t even know what the guy had done. ”
Jesus.
“And it was all because of intel I dug up.” Bitter disgust shone through Nate’s statement, and Leo couldn’t tell whether it was directed at Nate’s former employers or Nate himself.
Shifting closer, Leo linked their arms. “Not your fault,” he said softly.
“It kind of is.” Nate made an aborted gesture, then rubbed a hand over his hair.
“I know I’m not, like, directly responsible, yeah?
But I should have realised sooner that this would happen one day.
Was bloody naive, didn’t care much what they did with the information as long as I could brag about a job well done. ”
“We were all young and stupid once,” was all Leo could think of, but it chased a tiny smile over Nate’s face, tense features relaxing just slightly.
Leo nudged their hips together, arms still linked.
Together, they stepped onto the footbridge, and Leo tugged them both to a halt, leaning his elbows on the railing to watch murky water crawl by below.
“Does Mo know?” he inquired in an undertone.
Nate’s shoulder was pressed against Leo’s, an uncommon show of vulnerability. “Bits. I’m working on it.”
“That’s…” Leo took a deep breath. “Good. That’s really good.”
For a while, neither of them spoke, staring down into the water. Eventually, Nate straightened and watched Leo take a sip of tea before he asked, “Your turn, Grammy.”
Fuck, okay. Leo could do this. He could. He couldn’t keep running forever, could he?
Pushing away from the railing, he started walking again, Nate catching up easily.
Leo swallowed, words weighing heavily on his tongue, rough and misshapen.
“I slept under this bridge a few times.” He cleared his throat.
“Under other London bridges too. In tube stations, doorways, construction sites. Anywhere that’s dry and somewhat sheltered. ”
A glance revealed that Nate didn’t appear surprised. With a small nod, he said, “I guessed as much. Did your parents kick you out?”
“Being gay didn’t fit into their view of a glossy world consisting of fancy titles and caviar-topped canapés.” Leo snorted, the sound dry, rasping against his palate. “I suppose you’ve known this for a while, right? I mean, it took Joshua all of three weeks to figure it out, so…”
“Joshua knows?” Now Nate did look surprised, pleasantly so. The look he shot Leo was… proud, almost.
“That particular part, yes.” Leo looked away, at the blinding reflection of the sun on the water.
Half-hidden behind Southwark Bridge, the two peaks of Tower Bridge reached for the sky.
They’d been visible from René’s flat as well, from the bedroom that Leo had entered only twice, René preferring to stick to the bathtub routine.
For all that it was a warm morning, Leo zipped up his leather jacket.
He didn’t look at Nate when he continued.
“But there’s also…” He exhaled. “Look, it’s not easy to land a job if you’re seventeen and have no references to speak of, no real qualifications other than piano lessons since age four.
Never held a real job, no permanent address. ”
Nate’s chuckle was quietly fond. “You could talk your way into anything.”
“Not back then. I was a little twat with absolutely no idea what reality was like.” Leo blinked a couple of times, shaking his head.
His smile must have turned out wobbly. “I ran from home thinking I was so clever. That I’d fucking show them.
That I’d be just fine on my own and that the world would be at my feet in no time.
” God, it sounded bloody stupid out loud.
He’d been painfully naive back then—innocent as well, brimming with hope and illusions.
“I used to dabble in music, so I thought, you know, I’d do some open mic, play some piano and sing a little, and I’d be famous in no time. ”
Nate stepped aside to make room for a pushchair, then quickly caught up again. “Guess it wasn’t that easy?” he asked.
“For some reason, London wasn’t waiting with bated breath for me to show up.”
“How revolting.” In spite of the amusement in Nate’s tone, his expression was serious, eyes kind. Leo countered it with a lopsided smirk.
“Truly was. Also my first taste of real life.”
“Is that also part of why…” Nate’s lips pressed together, and he paused to gulp down some tea.
At Leo’s questioning glance, he lifted one shoulder.
“Just wondering whether you saw some of yourself in Joshua? Like, the slight naivety that comes with growing up sheltered. Is that part of why you reacted like that, all… derisive? I mean, I know it was more than that, with your teenage crush on him, but do you think—”
“Maybe a little,” Leo cut in. “It’s complicated.”
Joshua. Joshua, Joshua, Joshua. Everything always came back to Joshua, didn’t it?
If it hadn’t been for that one moment in the scrummage, for Leo’s unexpected reaction to another boy’s body as they’d been shoved close together, Joshua only fourteen at the time…
It might have taken Leo longer to figure himself out.
He might have finished school instead of dropping the news on his parents in the stubborn hope that just this once, they’d prove him wrong and would embrace their son, accept him as he was.
“Never doubted that it’s complicated.” Nate’s voice was cautious, watching Leo as though expecting him to close off any moment. Leo felt abruptly exhausted.
Crumpling up his empty cardboard cup, he waited until they’d passed a group of teenagers who posed for dramatic selfies against the backdrop of St Paul’s Cathedral, cracking up with laughter at the resulting pictures. It was sweet.
Leo kept his voice quiet and even. “Either way, as I said, I was a stupid little twat. I burned through my initial money pretty quickly, and then I was just—it was an accident.” He avoided looking at Nate.
The ground felt a little unsteady under his feet, as though the Millennium Bridge was swaying even though almost two years of construction had striven to prevent just that.
“The first time someone paid me for sex, it was… a misunderstanding. But I needed the money, so I kept my mouth shut and took it.”
Nate inhaled sharply. Leo didn’t dare glance over, too afraid of what he might see.
A few moments passed in silence before he added, “And then, after that, I just thought, you know, why the hell not? The sex was okay. I didn’t mind it, not initially, although it all got a bit…
There’s not much of an appeal if it’s one-sided, not at all about what you yourself might want.
It’s different from sleeping with someone because you want to.
Me, I had to deliver. So that wasn’t very—I’d completely forgotten that sex could be fun.
And then, with Joshua, that was—fuck. It was on a whole new level. ”