April (two months later)

“Cheers, guys,” Johnny said as Jez and Jude dumped the boxes they were carrying down on the floor of his new room.

“No worries. Is this everything?” Jez asked.

“Nah. There’s a few more things coming in a final load later. But this is most of it now.” Johnny looked around at the boxes, assorted bags, and bin liners full of his crap. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to accumulate so much stuff in the time he’d been sharing a flat with Sid. It was amazing how it mounted up.

“I’m afraid I’m going out later, so I won’t be around to help,” Jez said.

“Yeah, me too.” Jude gave a rueful grin. “I promised Shawn I’d meet him at the gym after he finishes work.”

“No worries, honestly. I can manage. I appreciate you helping with the first car load.”

“Well have fun unpacking,” Jez said. “See you later.”

“Welcome to the madhouse.” Jude offered Johnny a fist to bump.

Johnny laughed. “Thanks, man.”

Left alone, he looked around his new place.

It had been his suggestion to swap with Ben. Since Sid and Ben had got together, Ben had spent so much time over at their flat it was like having three of them living there. Johnny didn’t mind. He liked Ben, but it did get a little tiring playing third wheel to a happy couple. Not that he’d totally escaped couples by moving into the large shared house that was his new home; Jez and Mac were together, and so were Shawn and Jude. And Johnny’s fifth housemate, Dev, was in a relationship with Ewan who lived in the house next door to this one. But at least with more of them around, the PDAs might be more diluted, and Johnny wouldn’t feel so much like a spare part.

At the thought of the neighbouring house, Johnny felt a prickle of unease. His only worry about moving here was that now he’d be living next door to Ryan.

Memories of their night together still lingered, nagging at the edges of Johnny’s consciousness. Ryan had been a really great fuck, but the morning after was uncomfortable. Usually Johnny was able to shrug these things off and move on, but something about Ryan had got under his skin. He was far from the first bi-curious guy that Johnny had hooked up with. He enjoyed messing with their heads and watching their preconceived notions about themselves come crashing down. Normally, he’d forget about them and happily move on to the next conquest. But Ryan had left Johnny wanting more and Johnny hated wanting things he couldn’t have.

He’d deliberately made no effort to contact Ryan, knowing that Ryan could easily track him down if he wanted. Of course he hadn’t—why would he? Johnny was just an experiment for him, an enjoyable one maybe, but that was all.

A couple of weeks after they’d hooked up, he’d seen Ryan in town one day. They’d been walking in opposite directions through the shopping centre and passed within a few feet of each other. Their gazes had met, and Johnny had given Ryan a smile and nod in greeting. But Ryan hadn’t responded in kind. Shocked recognition had flashed in his eyes before he looked away quickly, head down as he hurried away. It had been a sharp kick in Johnny’s guts to be ignored like that, like he was nothing—or worse, like he was something that Ryan regretted.

Arsehole.

Living next door to Ryan, there was no way they were going to be able to avoid each other. Johnny hoped they could get past the awkwardness quickly and forget about what had happened between them. He tried to push aside the hurt and anger he still felt when he remembered Ryan blanking him in the street, but his sense of unease remained as he began to unpack.

Johnny had only managed to sort out a couple of boxes when his phone buzzed with a text from Dana, Sid’s friend from work, who was helping them move:

I’m parked outside again, wanna come down?

Johnny left the box of books he was in the middle of emptying and went down to find her double-parked with her hazard lights on.

“Hey. I would offer to help you carry stuff up, but I daren’t leave the car unattended because I’m blocking the road.”

“No worries,” Johnny said. “Just give me a hand to unload onto the pavement then you can head off.”

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting if you want to get it inside.”

“No, it’s fine.”

It was a smaller load this time, just a suitcase, a few more boxes, and several carrier bags stuffed full of clothes that wouldn’t fit in Johnny’s case. They lined them up along the wall that separated the small front yards of the houses from the street.

“That’s the last ones.” Dana put down the carrier bags she was holding.

With perfect timing, a taxi drove down the street and beeped its horn insistently when it had to stop behind Dana’s car.

“Thanks so much for helping,” Johnny said as she hurried away.

“You’re welcome,” she called over her shoulder. “Good luck with the unpacking.”

As Johnny stooped to lift the first box, he heard voices and footsteps approaching rapidly from down the street. Recognising Ryan’s voice, he stiffened. Straightening up, he turned to meet the source of the sound. Ryan and a stocky, sandy-haired guy Johnny recognised, but whose name he couldn’t remember, were jogging towards him.

They stopped by the path to their front door, just a few feet away from him.

“Hi,” the sandy-haired guy said. “Johnny, isn’t it? Are you moving in?”

“Hi. And yeah.” Johnny gripped the box tightly, tension coiling in his muscles as he let his gaze slide to Ryan. “Ben’s moving into my flat with Sid, so we’re doing a swap.”

Flushed, sweaty, and wearing sports clothes and trainers, Ryan looked annoyingly hot. He also looked less than thrilled at the prospect of having Johnny as a neighbour.

Breaking the awkward silence, the sandy-haired guy asked, “Do you want a hand with that lot?”

“There’s no need. I can manage,” Johnny said. Then realised he probably sounded rude. “But thanks.”

“Don’t be daft. It won’t take long with three of us.” Without waiting for Johnny or Ryan to agree to the arrangement, the guy came over and lifted another box while Ryan hung back uncertainly for a moment.

“Thanks, uh… I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.” Johnny shifted the weight of the box in his arms, which were aching now.

“It’s James. I don’t think we were ever actually introduced.”

Ryan finally moved, going and picking up several carrier bags as James led the way to Johnny’s new front door, which was slightly ajar. Johnny followed close behind, with Ryan on his heels.

“Where do you want this?” James was already on his way upstairs.

“First door on the right,” Johnny said. He was painfully aware of Ryan behind him. He must be eye level with Johnny’s arse. Johnny wondered whether Ryan was thinking about the time when he’d had his tongue in it, because Johnny sure as hell was. His skin prickled at the memory and some blood redistributed itself to his dick.

James marched in and put his box down, standing aside to let the other two in before heading straight back out.

Johnny dumped his box on the bed.

“Where do you want these?” Ryan asked.

“Wherever there’s a space.” Johnny gestured around the chaos.

Ryan put the bags on the floor next to some other boxes, as he put them down one of them fell over and fabric spilled out of it. “Oh, shit, sorry.” Ryan crouched down to shove the contents back into the bag, then froze, looking at what was in his hand.

Fuck. Johnny flushed hot when he realised Ryan was holding a pair of bright pink lace boy shorts. Boy shorts was a weird name when you thought about it, because they definitely weren’t meant for boys. Johnny liked wearing them sometimes, when he was feeling in a particularly feminine mood. The lace on his skin looked and felt sexy. They were stretchy enough that he could fit his dick and balls into them, even if they weren’t very comfortable to wear for long periods.

“No worries,” Johnny managed, throat tight. But along with the embarrassment of Ryan seeing his lacy undies, he also felt a swoop of arousal. He wondered what Ryan would think if he saw Johnny wearing them. Would he be into it?

“Are these yours?” Ryan’s voice sounded as strangled as Johnny’s felt. He was still squatting on the floor, skimpy pink lace in his fist. He glanced up at Johnny questioningly.

“Yeah.”

Their gazes locked for a long moment. Ryan’s cheeks were flushed and there was a hunger in his eyes that went straight to Johnny’s cock. Johnny swallowed, his mouth dry.

The sound of feet on the stairs galvanised Ryan into action. He shoved the underwear deep into the bag they’d fallen out of and straightened up, adjusting his dick as he did so. Johnny caught the movement and gave him a knowing grin just as James barrelled through the door carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other.

“What kept you? Slackers.”

“Sorry,” Johnny said smoothly, his confidence back in place like a shield. “We had a mishap with a bag. Didn’t mean to leave you to do all the work.”

“Yeah. I’m on it.” Ryan hurried out, and Johnny followed him down. James wasn’t far behind, so Johnny couldn’t have said anything else to Ryan even if he’d wanted to.

There wasn’t much stuff left outside.

“You can manage that without me as I’ve already done an extra load,” James said. “I’m heading in to shower. I reek.” He sniffed his armpits. “Five-a-side always makes me sweat like a bitch. See you later, Ryan. Good to meet you again, Johnny.”

“You too. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome.”

Left alone, Johnny and Ryan carried the last load up in silence.

Ryan put the bags he was carrying down, carefully this time as though worried about what other secrets he might inadvertently reveal, and then ran a hand through his hair. “So, um. Good luck with the unpacking. And welcome to the street I guess.”

“Are you going to ignore me when we run into each other? Or will you actually say hi to me now we’re neighbours?” Johnny raised his eyebrows in challenge, unable to stop a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.

Ryan flushed and winced. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I just…. You kind of blindsided me that day. I didn’t mean to be an arsehole.”

“Do you always ignore people you’ve hooked up with? Or only the guys?”

“You’re the only guy I’ve hooked up with. I told you that.”

Johnny shrugged. “You might have hooked up with more since.”

“I haven’t.”

“Decided it’s not for you?”

Ryan gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you always ask people such difficult questions?”

“Yes.” Johnny stuck his hands in his pockets. “Life’s too short for bullshit. And if we’re going to be living next door to each other I’d rather not feel awkward every time I see you in the street. So, are we good?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

They stared at each other. Johnny thought Ryan would be in a hurry to get away, but he seemed to be lingering and Johnny wished he knew what was going through his head. On impulse he asked, “Do you want to go out for a drink sometime? Show me which pubs are decent around here?”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Uh. I guess we could. When were you thinking?”

“Well. I need to unpack tonight. But what about tomorrow? I know it’s a Sunday but we don’t need to be out late. Just a quiet drink to clear the air while you show me the local sights.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “What time?”

“Seven?”

“All right. I would offer to swap numbers but I haven’t got my phone on me.”

“I’ll give you mine. Hang on….” Johnny located a Sharpie he’d used to label some of his boxes. “Oh. Fuck knows where there’s some paper though.”

“Write it on my hand.” Ryan offered.

“It won’t wash off easily.”

“Well then I won’t lose it before I put it on my phone. Here.”

Ryan moved close enough that Johnny could smell him, fresh masculine sweat cutting through deodorant. He held out his hand, palm down. Johnny gripped it as he wrote his number on the back. Ryan’s hand was warm, big, and broad compared to Johnny’s. Johnny suppressed a shiver of excitement as he remembered how it had felt to be touched by him.

“There you go.” He released Ryan’s hand and smiled.

“See you tomorrow then.” Ryan grinned back.

As the door closed behind him, Johnny sat on the edge of the bed and tried to work out what had just happened.

Did I just ask him on a date?

He wasn’t sure, honestly. But whatever he’d offered, Ryan had said yes.