Chapter 12 #5
“No,” Joshua said briskly. His fingers tightened around Leo’s thigh, digging into the muscle. “Absolutely not. We’re in this together.”
“I’m James’ client,” Leo told him, as calmly as he could. “Means that I’m calling the shots, love.”
Leo found it difficult to maintain his resolve when Joshua’s eyes narrowed, disappointment written into his frown. “I’m your boyfriend.” Joshua’s voice was firm, yet quiet. “This is a relationship of equals, and you can’t just go ahead and decide things without me.”
Oh, fuck. Boyfriend.
In theory, Leo shouldn’t be caught off-guard by a word as simple as that, but there was something disarming about hearing it out loud, stated so casually.
It made him hitch in a breath, his chest too wide and too narrow at once.
He turned to face Joshua fully, deliberately angling himself away from the webcam.
“Joshua.” The name felt loaded, like a declaration in itself. “I’m not trying to make a decision for both of us. I won’t push you out that backdoor. Never. But I do want to give you the option.”
“I won’t use it,” Joshua told him, a stubborn tilt to his chin. “So you might as well scrap the thought.”
“You’re absolutely impossible, you know that?” With a sigh, Leo leaned in to press their foreheads together, closing his eyes for a second before he added, so low only Joshua would hear, “But please give me that. Okay? It’ll make me feel better.”
A palpable moment of hesitation passed, and Leo was keenly aware of the others around them, watching and waiting. He didn’t know how much James had told Carole and Ben in advance, but since no one uttered a single word, he assumed that they’d had a vague notion, at least.
Just as the silence became heavy, Joshua shifted to drop a kiss to the corner of Leo’s mouth. “All right,” he agreed.
“Good,” Leo told him. I love you, he thought, and maybe Joshua could read it in Leo’s eyes because the tension in his features drained away and made room for a beaming smile. Without thought, Leo returned it.
After that, the questions set in.
James fired them off in rapid succession, and Leo fought to keep his voice even and his posture relaxed as he answered as honestly as he could.
Joshua’s hand on his thigh was grounding, as was the press of Nate’s shoulder against his.
A few minutes in, Mo sat up from the floor to lean against Leo’s thighs, and Tristan’s fingers snaked around Leo’s ankle, clasping it in a light grip.
Leo loved all of them wildly, aggressively, with every single molecule of his body.
“What are the chances of someone recognising you?” James asked. “Past clients, I mean.”
“Generally slim.” Leo cleared his throat.
“For one, I used all sorts of fake names when I worked. I also had really short hair, which—maybe you guys remember that from early on. Because easier to keep clean, you know, and more hygienic when regular showers are a bit tricky. Made me look like quite a different person, and I was younger, thinner, much more of a twink.” He paused for a chuckle that didn’t come out entirely convincing.
“I mean, hey, I had hair a bit like now at Eton, tousled fringe and all, and Joshua and Tristan still didn’t recognise me. ”
“But I sort of did,” Joshua protested, and Leo sent him an indulgent look.
“You really didn’t, darling.” Directing his attention back at the screen, Leo steeled himself.
The low quality of the stream made it difficult to assess the reactions of Carole, Ben and George.
“Anyway, back to your question. There are two regulars who are likely to recognise me. Other than that, it was one-time things, usually with bad lighting, often with alcohol involved, and a minimum of six years ago. I think the risk is…”—again, he cleared his throat even though his mouth was dry—“manageable.”
“We’ll need names and addresses of your regulars,” Ben inserted, business-like. “See what kind of dirt we can find on them.”
“Nate will handle that part,” James said.
Leaning further into Joshua’s side, Leo slotted his fingers into the gaps between Joshua’s, his knee pressed against Nate’s.
“I was seventeen.” The words were reluctant to leave his mouth, but he pushed them out all the same.
“My first time with one of them I was only seventeen, so that’s definitely illegal.
The commercial aspect, that is. More so for him than for me. ”
“Jesus fuck, Leo.” Ben sounded a cross between shocked and disbelieving, and Leo shook his head, staring directly at the screen.
“Don’t, okay? I’m not proud of the whole thing, but I certainly don’t want your pity. Or your disapproval. It is what it is.”
At that, Joshua’s fingers clenched around Leo’s. A quick sideways glance revealed that Joshua looked guilty and miserable. Did he believe it was his fault that Leo had to go through this whole messy ordeal, come clean with the team? Leo squeezed back.
The small gap in the discussion was broken by Carole. Her voice was gentle and slightly careful, but devoid of judgment. Not for the first time, Leo wondered just how much of her story resembled his own. “What about the street kids?” she asked. “The ones you see on Saturdays. Do they know?”
“I’m sure they suspect I was one of them,” Leo told her. “But not the sex work bit, no. And as for when I was actually doing that, I was… discreet, mostly. It’s not like I worked the kerb, you know. I picked clients up in bars, chatted with them for a while, so it probably looked like regular fun.”
“Which bars?” James asked.
“Switched it up.” Leo paused and let himself remember some of the places—dim lights, crowded, the air tasting of sweat and beer, his leather jacket the only armour that protected him.
“I didn’t work any of those places enough for anyone to notice and throw me out.
With the exception of one that belongs to my friend Kylie now.
It belonged to her parents at the time, and she’s…
a good person. Helped me out a fair bit. ”
“I like her,” Carole contributed, and right; they’d met when she’d filled in for Leo last Saturday. “I don’t think she’s the kind to blab.”
“She’s not,” Leo said.
“Still, let’s assume that one of your old contacts goes to the press. Maybe with just a suspicion.” James set down his pen and leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands on the table. “What do we do?”
“Sue them into oblivion,” Ben said. “Unless there’s proof.”
Of course that would be his choice course of action, Leo thought with distant amusement.
Bloody lawyers. “They won’t have proof,” he said out loud.
“There is no proof. I was careful. Always thought that if I make it out, in a later life, that I didn’t want to become susceptible to blackmail.
” He snorted. “Didn’t realise it’d have to withstand this scale of public attention, though. ”
“I’m sorry,” Joshua whispered, and Leo bumped him with his elbow.
“Shut it,” he whispered back. “It’s about time I stop hiding. Go big or go home, right?”
The moment it was out he realised that he meant every word; while the low-level buzz of unease still quivered in his stomach, his ribcage had widened, and he felt lighter somehow, like a knot had come loose.
George spoke up for the first time. “In addition, between James and myself, we have the network to hear about any such story before it runs. There’s a good chance we could stop it.”
“And,” James added, “Nate can figure out the source so we can make sure they will think twice about talking to the press in the future.”
Shifting against Leo’s side, Nate gave a humourless smile. “It’d be my pleasure. I mean, everyone has some dirt they’d rather not see exposed to their friends and family, so… yeah.”
“Whoa,” Tristan breathed out, more admiration than disapproval. “Mate, remind me not to get on your bad side, like, ever.”
While Mo stayed quiet, he’d tipped his head back to study Nate with quiet, fond understanding.
Nate met his gaze, and his smile twisted into something more genuine as he added, “As for what happens online, that doesn’t really matter without proof.
It’s just chatter. Which, by the way—I already set up a few sock puppets for Joshua’s coming out. Guess we could use those.”
“Leo,” James said, low and serious. “It’s your call. Are you ready to do this?”
Swallowing around what felt like a rough-edged lump in his throat, Leo turned his head to look at Joshua. For a moment, their gazes held, Joshua’s eyes clear and his expression calm, fingers sure around Leo’s own.
“I’m ready,” Leo said out loud, repeated it. “I’m ready.”
He didn’t avert his eyes, and Joshua didn’t look away either.
It was strangely quiet once everyone had left the suite.
Leo threw open the curtains and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane, staring out over the cityscape—high-rise buildings crowded together, smog clouding up the view of distant mountains. He closed his eyes and focused on the faint noises that filtered into the room.
He heard Joshua draw close, the thick carpet reducing his footsteps to a vague whisper. Then Joshua hugged him from behind, moulding himself to Leo’s back, and Leo leaned into him with a little gasp. His throat felt raw.
“You okay?” Joshua asked, sticky-slow like a dream.
Leo considered it carefully, tipping his head back onto Joshua’s shoulder and covering Joshua’s hands on his stomach with his own. Holding him in place. “I’m okay,” he replied eventually.
“I’m so sorry,” Joshua told him. “So, so sorry you have to go through this because of me.”
Leo turned in the circle of his arms, leaning back against the window as he looked at Joshua. “I’m not sorry. I guess it’s kind of… liberating, even. Coming clean to my closest friends, and reclaiming a good part of my past in general. Or it will feel liberating very soon, I’m sure.”