It wasn’t until they were halfway through cooking dinner that Rory plucked up the courage to ask the question that was on his mind.
Cos he thought David had been saying he didn’t just want a shag, but, well, plenty of people had told Rory over the years that he wasn’t the brightest spark in the shed, and he’d feel a lot better getting David to confirm that wasn’t all it was for him.
Rory took a deep breath. “So, right, when you told Mark we were . . . what you told him, did you, um, mean it?”
David paused in his stirring. “Yes?”
“Sure?” Rory had to ask, cos he didn’t exactly sound it.
“Not really. I mean, what precisely did I tell him?” It all came out in a nervous rush as David dropped the spoon in the pan and spun to face him.
“That you and me are boyfriends now?” Rory asked hopefully.
“Oh! Yes. That. Definitely.” David beamed. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Good,” Rory said, and put his arms around his bloke. “Me too.”
Course, then he had to nuzzle into David’s neck, cos it was right there and asking for it, and that led to them having a bit of a snog, and they ended up burning dinner, but that was okay. It was still mostly edible. And Rory had never liked that pan much anyhow.
The rest of the evening was pretty amazing. They spent it on the sofa, cuddled up in front of the telly, David making outrageous comments on everything. Rory was in fits.
A bit later, Rory was cleaning his teeth and idly staring at himself in the bathroom mirror while David waited for him in bed, it hit Rory all at once—he was a bloke with a boyfriend. He was a—well, not a gay bloke, cos he still fancied women, but not a straight bloke neither. A bisexual bloke. No curious about it. And everyone was going to know, cos there was no way he was hiding it, cos he wasn’t ashamed or nothing. Just . . . was everyone going to feel differently about him now?
Barry obviously did—had done even before there was anything to feel different about. And that was . . . Rory hated that, cos Barry was his best mate, and the thought of them not being mates anymore was like a flippin’ big weight pressing down on his chest, but the bloke was wrong. He had to see that.
Didn’t he?
Rory was pretty sure he felt different, mind. It was like . . . like the time he’d let the lads talk him into going on that ginormous bloody roller coaster, when they’d had a Spartans trip down to Thorpe Park. Sitting in that carriage after they’d chugged up to the top thinking, Oh my God, what have I got myself into?
His reflection grinned at him. That’d been bloody brilliant, that ride. And this would be too. Him and David. Wasn’t like they’d be the only gay couple in the village, now was it?
Yeah. It was gonna be magic.
He rinsed his mouth out, turned out the light, and climbed into bed with his bloke.
David snuggled in to his side. “I could hear you in the bathroom, you know. Thinking.”
Rory laughed. “Don’t worry, mate. It ain’t likely to happen again.”
Next morning was . . . in one way, it was good, cos he woke up next to David. And in another it was bad, cos it was four thirty and he had to get straight out of bed for work while David rolled over with a pillow over his ears muttering, “Oh, God, make it stop.”
Maybe he ought to get a quieter alarm clock. Or buy David some ear plugs. Yeah, that might be the answer.
He got ready for work as quietly as he could—he’d been getting used to doing that anyhow, since David had moved in—and set off for the delivery office.
It felt weird, walking in, knowing how much his life had changed and knowing they didn’t have any idea. Like, this was just a normal day for all them, but for him, it was . . . it was the first full day of him and David being, well, him and David, which was flippin’ amazing.
And nobody knew. Except him and David, obviously, and Mark, and probably Patrick now, and like as not Fen, but nobody here.
They didn’t have a clue.
Then he realised Collette was giving him a funny look and waving her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Rory, anyone home?”
He blinked. “Uh, sorry. All right, love?”
“I’m fine, but I’m not sure about you. Magic mushrooms for breakfast, was it? It’s either that or you’re in love . . . Oh my God, are you in love? You are, aren’t you.”
“Um. Maybe?” Rory made a face, cos it just didn’t sit right, lying about how he felt about David. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” He could tell he was grinning like an idiot, cos his cheeks were starting to ache.
“Oi, everyone, Rory’s got a new woman in his life!”
Uh-oh. Heads, everywhere, turned, and there was a chorus of wolf-whistles and Good on you, mate. Some of the lads were clapping. “Uh . . .” Oh, sod it. “It ain’t a woman,” he said, and it felt like ripping off a scab.
There was silence for a long, long moment. Then Tel at the back yelled out, “Lock up your sheep”; somebody, Rory wasn’t sure who, made a loud “Baaa”; and Raj chipped in with, “All the more for us, then,” which got him bombarded with calls of You wish and In your dreams, mate mostly, but not exclusively, from the women.
Collette screamed out, “I knew it! It’s that lodger of yours, innit? Rory Deamer, you old goat,” and hugged him, which was nice, but also whispered in his ear, “You’re gonna tell me all the details,” which he wasn’t so keen on.
Nobody said anything bad, like, at all. There had been one or two of the lads, not particular mates of his, he’d been worried about, but if they didn’t approve, they kept it to themselves, which was good enough for Rory.
Still, it was a bit of a relief to get out on his round.
When Rory got home from work, he probably should’ve had a bit of a kip, cos he’d had a later night last night than he should have, what with . . . one thing and another.
Especially the other.
Course, when he put his head down on the sofa, he couldn’t sleep, could he? Thinking about David getting back . . .
The clocks were on a bloody go-slow today, the bastards, and by the time five o’clock ticked round, Rory was practically camped out on his own doorstep, waiting for David.
Twelve hours was a long time, all right?
Maybe David thought so too, cos he was in the door by two minutes past and in Rory’s arms two seconds later.
“Had a good day?” Rory asked, when David had stopped kissing him long enough for him to get a word out.
“Fantastic. Wonderful. Absolutely fabulous. Mark took me out to lunch, and Patrick came too, and he’s being a lot nicer to me now. And guess what? It looks like I may not be job hunting after all. You know that charity Patrick works for, doing the fundraising? His assistant, Lex—that’s Fen’s friend—has decided to go and train as a locksmith, of all things, which leaves Patrick in a bit of a bind as apparently he’s had lots of offers of better jobs from much bigger charities, but he doesn’t want to leave SHARE totally in the lurch. So in the New Year, I’ll start working with him on a trial basis—just to see if he can actually work with me without committing murder most foul—and if it works out, he’ll train me up as his successor. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“That’s great, love.” Rory didn’t realise what he’d said until David’s smile turned all tender and he got pulled into a clinch.
“Mm. Patrick said the trustees are going to love me.” David frowned. “He said it with such an odd tone of voice, though. Oh well. I’m sure I’ll find out. How was your day?”
“Uh, you know. Same old routine. Uh. Told the lads and lasses at work about us.”
“Really?” David gave him a kiss that might have turned into something else if he hadn’t broken it off. “Ooh, what did they say? Anything actionable?”
Rory laughed. “They were all dead good about it. Course, I dunno what they’re saying behind me back, but what I don’t know can’t hurt me, right?”
“The Darwin awards would beg to differ, but I take your meaning. Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For . . .” David looked away for a moment. “For having faith in me.”
“Oi, why wouldn’t I have faith in you? You’re my bloke, aincha?”
It was a lot later, and Rory’s bed was a lot more rumpled—just like they were—when Rory brought up the other thing that’d been on his mind. “I was thinking about giving Barry a bell. If you’re okay with that. I know you and him never got on.” Rory held his breath.
David’s face softened. “Darling, he’s your friend. Yes, he’s a . . .”
He seemed to be struggling for words, which wasn’t like him, so Rory helped him out. “Narrow-minded git? Yeah, but nobody ever changed anyone’s opinions by telling them to piss off, did they? I wanna give him another chance.”
“And you should.” David kissed him. “I’d be a total hypocrite if I told you not to. And no, I’m not telling you who I’m talking about, because she was only doing what she thought was best for me, as always.”
Huh. Rory had known David’s mum hadn’t exactly thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. “So you’re okay with it? Even if it means us spending more time with him and stuff?”
“Absolument.”
Rory waited to make the call until after dinner, when he was pretty sure Barry wouldn’t pick up his phone, cos this was one of his missus’s nights out and it’d be bath time for the kiddies.
Maybe it wasn’t the bravest thing to do, leaving a voice mail, but on the other hand, Rory wanted to give Barry time to think things over, instead of knee-jerk reacting. Cos Barry . . . He wasn’t a bad sort. Mostly. But he tended to say stuff before he’d properly thought it through.
Rory took a deep breath and spoke after the beep. “It’s me. Uh, Rory, but you probably know that, right? Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that, well, me and David, we’re a . . . a thing now. Going out together and stuff. So. I just . . . Well, we both said a few things, that night at the pub, and I just wanted to say . . . I miss you, mate, all right? So if you wanna, you know, go for a beer or something . . . but if you don’t, yeah, that’s okay. So. You take care.”
He hung up, breathing hard.
Then he went to find his boyfriend for a cuddle.