“This is where we get off,” Ryan said as the train started to slow.

The rhythm of the wheels on the tracks altered as the greens and browns of the countryside outside the train window changed to more urban colours: the white and brick-red of houses, and the grey of stone walls and streets.

Johnny stood, swaying with the motion of the carriage as he began to make his way down the centre aisle with Ryan following behind. He admired Johnny’s arse, as always. Habit drew his gaze there whenever he had the opportunity to look. He’d tried to talk Johnny out of wearing his ubiquitous black skinny jeans and boots due to the oppressive July heat, but now he was glad he’d failed. They showcased Johnny’s butt like nothing else did.

They collected their rucksacks from the luggage rack. Ryan’s blue and relatively new, compared to Johnny’s ancient battered black one. Ryan’s was also much less full than Johnny’s, which was almost bursting at the seams. He’d spent ages dithering over which clothes to pack, worrying about impressing Ryan’s parents, and had ended up packing what looked like half his wardrobe to keep his options open.

As the train finally shuddered to a halt, Ryan was the first off, waiting for Johnny on the platform so they could walk side-by-side. There was nobody checking tickets at the small country station, so they walked through the open gate to the car park and out onto the street beyond. On the edge of the small commuter town where Ryan had been brought up, the road to the station was lined by grassy banks, thick with wild flowers, and overhung by trees.

“How far is it to your parents’ house?” Johnny asked.

“Not very far. It will take us about ten minutes, maybe less if we walk fast.”

“Can I vote for walking slowly?”

Ryan grinned. “Because of the heat, or because you’re nervous? Wouldn’t it be better to get it over with now?”

“Both. But I’ll be more confident about meeting them if I’m not a sweaty mess.” Johnny tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind his ear.

“Okay,” Ryan said. But the chances of not being a sweaty mess were slim to none. The heat of his rucksack was already making his T-shirt stick to his back, and Johnny had damp patches beginning to form at the armpits of his new hot-pink T-shirt. “You look gorgeous though, babe. Seriously.”

Johnny glanced sideways with a cheeky smile. “You’re biased. You always think I look gorgeous.”

“Because you are.”

Ryan stopped and grabbed Johnny’s hand. He tugged him gently around and cupped his cheek. Flushed from the heat with the barest sprinkling of summer freckles on his nose, Johnny was even more stunning than usual. His blond hair was bright in the sunlight, which lit his grey eyes as though from within. The usual dark smudge of eyeliner emphasised them. Ryan had been very insistent that Johnny didn’t need to change his appearance for meeting his family. He wanted them to see the real Johnny in all his quirky glory, not some faux-conventional version.

“You’re staring at me.” Johnny’s lips quirked.

“Because you’re so pretty. I can’t help it.” Ryan leaned closer and pressed his mouth to Johnny’s. Johnny kissed him back, and Ryan put his hands on Johnny’s hips and pulled him even closer. He moved one hand to the small of Johnny’s back and let his fingers dip beneath Johnny’s waistband. Feeling something with his fingertips that caught his attention, he dipped a little lower and groaned.

“Seriously?” He drew back to see Johnny smiling wickedly. “You’re wearing lace. Today? What happened to trying to be ‘normal’ for my parents—your words, not mine.”

“Your parents aren’t going to see my underwear,” Johnny said with a shrug. “It makes me feel more… I don’t know. Confident around new people sometimes. Like I have a secret that they don’t know. They might judge me on what they can see, but they can’t see everything.”

“Is it the pink ones?” Ryan asked.

Johnny nodded, grin widening.

“Damn, Johnny. Knowing you’re wearing those isn’t going to make me feel more comfortable. You know that just the thought of them is enough to make me distracted.”

“Well, we can be uncomfortable together then.”

“And I won’t even be able to fuck you later because you refused to pack any lube,” Ryan grumbled.

“Ry, we’ve been through this. We’re not fucking in your parents’ house. It’s way too messy even with condoms, and neither of us are capable of being quiet enough when we bottom.”

“Blowjobs are okay though, right?”

Johnny chuckled. “Blowjobs are fine. No mess.”

Ryan kissed him again, reaching his hand even further down the back of Johnny’s jeans until the sound of a car approaching made them jump apart and move quickly to the side of the narrow lane.

“Right.” Johnny adjusted his dick and tugged his jeans up at the back where Ryan had shoved them down a little. “Let’s go and introduce me to your parents.”

Sitting awkwardly on the sofa with Johnny, Ryan was reminded of the first time he’d brought a girlfriend home. He’d been fourteen at the time and his mum had insisted on making tea and feeding them biscuits. His parents had both tried to make polite conversation with the girl while Ryan just wanted them to sod off and leave them in peace.

Now, though, he was grateful for his mum and dad’s efforts to make Johnny feel welcome. The biscuits had been upgraded to carrot cake, but the tea was the same—in the best cups and saucers, and out of a pot—and so was the polite conversation.

“I wasn’t planning on staying in retail, but as the assistant manager position came up, I thought I’d go for it,” Johnny was saying. “I’m enjoying the extra responsibility, and might stay with the company if there is a chance I can advance more. I’m also interested in getting more into the marketing side of things. That would be a more nine-to-five job, which would be nice. Then my hours would be more in line with Ryan’s.” Johnny glanced sideways at Ryan and smiled affectionately.

Ryan smiled back, cheeks flushing. “That would be great.”

It felt weird to be sitting close but not touching. Normally they were very tactile, but Ryan wasn’t sure how Johnny would feel if Ryan tried to hold his hand or touch his knee in front of his parents. He kept his hands to himself for now. Hopefully once they were all a bit more relaxed and less formal it would feel more natural to reach for him.

“Yes, I remember it was hard when your father worked weekend and evening shifts. It’s definitely easier to have quality time together if your schedules mesh,” Ryan’s mum said.

His dad chuckled. “Especially when the kids were small. Quality time was almost non-existent. Although I suppose that won’t be a problem for you two.”

Johnny stiffened, and Ryan floundered, unsure how to respond.

“That’s not true at all, dear,” his mum chipped in. “Lots of same-sex couples have children these days—not that I’m putting pressure on you for grandchildren,” she added to Ryan and Johnny. “But that’s a very outdated assumption, so I wanted to set your father strai—” She stopped, flushing bright pink and then changing tack. “I wanted to correct him.”

Johnny made a strange snorting noise and covered it with a cough.

Changing the subject Ryan said desperately, “How’s Connie? Is she going to be coming over this weekend at all?” Connie was his older sister who lived quite locally with her boyfriend.

“Yes,” Ryan’s dad replied. “She’s coming for lunch tomorrow with Miles. And she’s very well, a bit fed up with her current job but is applying for new ones and has a few interviews coming up.”

The awkward moment passed as the conversation moved on.

When they’d finished their tea and cake, Ryan’s mum started to gather up the plates.

“Let me help, Mum,” Ryan offered.

Johnny seemed fine, deep in conversation with Ryan’s dad about music. They’d just got onto eighties bands, and Ryan’s dad was in his element.

Ryan gathered up the plates while his mum put the cups and saucers back on the tea tray. He followed her through to the kitchen and put them down by the sink.

“Oh, Ryan,” his mum said in a hushed tone. “I’m so sorry for putting my foot in it. What an idiot.”

“Mum, it’s fine. The word straight isn’t offensive you know. We wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t made a big deal out of it.”

“I know. I’m just trying so hard to get things right, and then I messed up.”

“Stop worrying. The only way you could get things not right would be if you had a problem with me and Johnny being a couple, and you don’t, right?”

“Of course not!” She looked horrified at the mere thought.

“So chill out, and stop trying so hard. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded. Then she looked at Ryan intently. “I can see how much you care about him, it’s obvious when you look at him.”

“Yeah,” Ryan admitted. “I care about him a lot.”

“And he’s a lovely-looking boy—well, man really I suppose—incredibly pretty, especially in that pink T-shirt which looks gorgeous on him.” She faltered again. “Is it wrong to say he’s pretty? Handsome is better I suppose.”

“Johnny doesn’t mind being called pretty,” Ryan assured her. “He’d take it as a compliment, believe me.”

“Well good, because he is pretty. But the most important thing is that he’s making my boy happy.” She smiled. “Isn’t he?”

“Yes, Mum.” Ryan paused, joy swelling his chest as he heard the sound of Johnny’s muffled voice in the living room, and his dad’s answering peal of laughter. “He really is.”