What the fuck was that?

Ryan ran over the conversation he’d just had with Johnny as he let himself into his house. He went straight up to his room where he’d left his phone on charge and copied Johnny’s number into his contacts. Deciding not to text immediately, he put his phone back down. He didn’t want to seem too keen and give Johnny the wrong idea—or maybe the right idea? Ryan needed to sort out his thoughts before he could even tell.

Hearing the bang of the bathroom door as James vacated it, Ryan picked up his towel and went to shower.

As the hot water washed away the sweat, his mind didn’t get any clearer. He scrubbed at the number on his hand with soap, and it faded, but didn’t go away completely. The numbers lingered on his skin, just like his thoughts of Johnny had persisted since their hook up.

Ryan had tried hard to file away his memory of that night. To treat it as something that was over and done with, a sexy memory of a time where he’d taken a chance. He’d experimented and it had paid off, but it wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to repeat. He hadn’t expected to see Johnny again. Plymouth was a big city, and Ryan didn’t socialise much with Ben, who was the only common link. When he’d run into Johnny in the street he’d been taken completely by surprise. So he’d been a total dick and had tried to pretend that he hadn’t noticed or recognised him, but Johnny clearly hadn’t been fooled for a minute.

With Johnny living next door, avoiding him wasn’t going to be an option, and clearing the air seemed like a sensible idea. It wouldn’t be fun for either of them if things were uncomfortable. Ryan suspected that going out for a drink with Johnny might make things more complicated rather than smoothing things over, though. Perhaps he should have declined, using revision as an excuse because his finals started in a couple of weeks. And fuck, the last thing he needed with exams coming up was more complications in his life.

Oh well. Too late now.

Later that evening, James knocked on Ryan’s door.

“How are you doing? Revision going well?”

Ryan yawned and stretched. “Yeah. I’ve been pretty productive tonight.” A glance at the clock told him it was nearly ten. He’d managed a solid three hours since dinner and was happy with his progress. He was studying for an organic chemistry unit and had spent the evening going through the key points on index cards. It felt like the facts were sticking.

“You going to work late tonight? Or are you done? I’ve had it now, so I was going to have a couple of beers and watch some TV.”

“Oh, that sounds good. I think my brain is done, so I’ll join you.”

Downstairs, they stretched out on opposite ends of the sofa. None of their other housemates were around, so they had free rein with the TV remote. They settled on some reality show, which was nicely undemanding, after deciding they didn’t have the brain power left to focus on a film.

Beer in hand, Ryan put his feet up on the coffee table and sighed. Revision was a bitch. He couldn’t wait till his exams were done. He had a research job lined up at the university—subject to him getting a good 2:1—starting in August, which would be a new kind of stress. But he was ready for it, looking forward to earning money and narrowing his focus into a field that really interested him.

“What’s that on your hand?” James asked idly.

Ryan’s heart thumped. Lost in chemistry of the non-sexual kind, he’d managed to shift his brain into a non-Johnny gear for a few hours. But James’s question brought him screeching back into the realisation that this time tomorrow he’d be out with Johnny. Out drinking with Johnny, and the last time he and Johnny had been together with alcohol involved, things had ended interestingly.

“What does it look like?” Ryan quipped back, faux-casual.

“You pulled someone? But when? You’ve been in all evening.”

Ryan took a swig of his beer. “Nah, not like that. It’s Johnny’s number actually.”

“Johnny next door?”

“Yeah.”

“Johnny who you hooked up with a couple of months ago and haven’t seen since till today?”

“What’s your point?” Ryan kept his gaze fixed on the TV.

“So are you seeing him again then? Like seeing him, seeing him?”

“We’re just going out for a casual drink tomorrow. Things were a bit awkward today. But now he’s living next door we want to clear the air. Just be mates.”

James snorted. “Mates. Right.”

“What?” Ryan glanced sideways, irritated. “It’s only a drink. I said I’d show him the local pubs that are decent to drink in.”

“Oh, okay. So if it’s just a casual friendly thing then I could tag along?” James’s face was the picture of innocence. “Because I wouldn’t mind going out for a couple of beers tomorrow.”

Ryan glared at him unsure how to respond. Because James was right, damn him. If it was only a friendly drink then it shouldn’t be a problem to ask James along too, or any of their other housemates—or Johnny’s. But now he’d been put on the spot, Ryan realised he’d rather have Johnny all to himself. He wanted the chance for them to get to know each other a little better, and see what it led to.

James grinned, triumphant. “I take it that’s a no to me joining you then? So like I said: mates. Right. Because it’s so easy to be mates with a guy after fucking him—not that I’d know about that—but it doesn’t usually work out too well with girls. You’re totally into him.”

Ryan knew James well enough to be sure that he wasn’t being a dick about this because Johnny was a guy. That wasn’t the issue. James just liked taking the piss out of Ryan, and any excuse would do. “Fuck you. You’re only jealous because you haven’t been laid in even longer than me, and Heidi isn’t interested.” It was a low blow. Heidi was a girl on James’s course who James had had a crush on forever. But she’d made it clear it was never going to happen so James was pining from afar.

“Yeah whatever. You’re into him.” James turned back to the TV and took a swig of his beer. He pressed a button on the remote. “Oh cool. It’s time for Match of the Day.” After switching channels, he settled back to focus on the telly instead of Ryan, thankfully.

Ryan’s attention wandered as he watched the football highlights.

Am I into him?

He couldn’t deny he wanted to have sex with Johnny again. Johnny was hot, and Ryan fancied him. But it would be a terrible idea to go there again, especially now Johnny lived next door. A one-off was one thing, but a repeat felt dangerous. Then again, perhaps it wouldn’t be as good the second time and then it would be easier to forget about him. Sometimes it was like that. You had an amazing one-night stand, and then when you went back for more it didn’t live up to expectations. Maybe he should try and hook up with Johnny again. It might get him out of his system.

“Fucking yes. That was an amazing goal!” James exclaimed loudly, and Ryan realised with a flush of embarrassment that he was ignoring the footy while angsting over the boy next door. What the hell was wrong with him? Giving himself a mental slap, he pushed Johnny out of his mind for now, deciding to go with the flow tomorrow and see what happened. Johnny might not be interested in more than a friendly drink anyway, and Ryan was stressing for nothing.

Ryan grew progressively more jittery as the hours passed on Sunday. He managed to forget about Johnny and get some revision done in the morning, but by lunchtime he kept glancing at his phone. Johnny couldn’t text him, so it was up to Ryan to make contact and check if Johnny still wanted to go out. Ryan half-hoped he might change his mind, but at the same time he knew he’d be gutted if he did.

He finally gave in and sent Johnny a quick text after lunch:

You still up for that drink tonight? (This is Ryan BTW)

He put his phone back in his pocket and went up to his room to try to do more revision. He’d deliberately left it on silent so he wouldn’t be distracted, but he kept pulling it out to check the frustratingly blank screen, which fucked up his concentration anyway. So, he turned the sound on and left it on his desk next to the notes he was trying to memorise.

It was an hour before Johnny replied, and Ryan’s heart surged with nerves and excitement as he read the brief message: Yeah, sure. What time?

He sent back: 7ish still okay?

Yeah sure. Shall I call for you?

Ryan debated briefly. James already knew, but he might not blab about it to the rest of the house. He liked teasing Ryan, but he wasn’t a gossip. Ewan on the other hand, and Nadia…. But then Ewan spent half his time next door anyway. Resigning himself to the fact that if anything else happened with Johnny, keeping it a total secret would be impossible, Ryan replied: Okay. See you then.

Ryan was too nervous to eat much before he went out. There were butterflies taking up all the available space in his stomach. He tried calming them down with a couple of pieces of toast, but it didn’t help much. He felt ridiculous for getting into such a state. He hadn’t been this nervous about a date since he was fourteen and meeting Suzanne Hadley in the park. And he didn’t even know if this was a date.

Dressed in deliberately casual jeans, T-shirt, and a hoodie, he waited in the living room for the sound of the doorbell. Nadia and Justine were watching TV, and Colin was sitting at the table eating his dinner. Seven o’clock came and went, but his phone remained silent as Ryan’s nerves and anticipation ramped up higher and higher. Finally, at ten past seven—although it felt like hours had passed—the doorbell rang. Ryan shot up to get it before anyone else could.

“You expecting someone?” Colin raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I’m off out. See you later.” Ryan hurried out before Colin could ask anything else.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and opened the door.

“Hi.” Johnny was standing there, blond hair gleaming in the evening sun. One hand in the pocket of his usual black skinny jeans, he looked effortlessly casual, and projected calm confidence. “How are you?” He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled. Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Johnny was so fucking pretty. With the smooth clean-shaven planes of his face, and black eyeliner ringing his grey eyes, hearing a masculine voice come out of his mouth was incongruous.

Forcing himself to be cool, Ryan stepped out to join him. “Good thanks,” he said, pulling the door shut behind him. “So, where are we going then?”

“Isn’t that your call?” Johnny quirked an eyebrow. “You’re the one who knows the local pubs, remember?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sorry.” Ryan winced, cheeks burning. “I’m a bit brain-dead after revising all day.”

Johnny chuckled. “No worries. So. Where to?”

“Let’s try the Old Duke.” Ryan started walking, and Johnny fell into step beside him. “Do you know it? It’s only about five minutes’ walk from here.”

“I’ve been past it but never been in.”

“It’s nice in there, pretty chilled.”

“Is it LGBT friendly?”

“I don’t know. I think so. Ewan and Dev go there with us sometimes. We’ve never had any trouble, but they’re pretty discreet when they’re in public anyway.” Ryan felt shit for not paying more attention. He knew that some people could be homophobic twats, but as it had never affected him directly he didn’t tend to worry too much about where he drank.

“Even if I don’t grope your dick, people will probably assume I’m gay because of how I look,” Johnny said. “But if it’s a place where it’s mainly students and professionals rather than the more hard-arse locals we should be fine.”

Ryan ignored the flash of heat he felt at the thought of Johnny groping him. “Yeah, it’s definitely that sort of pub. But if you don’t feel like it’s a good fit when we get there just say and we can leave.”

“Okay, thanks.”

The Old Duke turned out to be a good choice. It was fairly quiet on a Sunday evening and had a cosy feel to it. The other customers were a mixture of couples and groups, mostly in their twenties or thirties. Nobody looked twice at them when they entered and Johnny didn’t stand out as particularly alternative.

“This okay with you?” Ryan asked quietly as they approached the bar.

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Do you think they do my version of a Bellini?” Johnny flashed him a grin.

Ryan chuckled. “They probably have peach schnapps and Prosecco, so I can ask?”

“Nah. I’ll stick with something a bit less alcoholic tonight. Um….” Johnny leaned over the bar to study the rows of bottles in the fridges. The position made him stick his arse out and Ryan wished he was behind him so he could sneak a proper look at it. “I’ll have one of the fruit ciders, the passion fruit and berry one.”

“You like your fruity drinks, huh?” Ryan tried not to wrinkle his nose at the thought.

“Yeah. I like cider, and the sweeter the better. The fruit stuff is lush.”

When the barman came over, Ryan ordered Johnny’s cider and got a pint of bitter for himself. Once they had their drinks they found a small table in a quiet corner.

Johnny slipped off his leather jacket to reveal a bright purple T-shirt with short capped sleeves and a neck that dipped low in the front. It was a thin fabric that clung to his shoulders, which were slender but still wide enough to be unmistakably masculine. He wore a black leather thong necklace with a silver spiral on it that nestled in the little dip between his collarbones. His skin was pale and smooth and Ryan’s fingers itched with the urge to touch him.

Ryan was still nervous, so he took a few large swallows of his pint, hoping the alcohol would chill him out a bit.

“Do you really like that stuff, or do you just drink it to be manly?” Johnny asked, eyeing Ryan over the rim of his glass.

“I guess it’s an acquired taste, but I wouldn’t drink it if I didn’t enjoy it. I’m secure enough in my masculinity that I could drink pink cocktails if I liked them. But beer is nice.”

“Would you even drink a pink cocktail with a glittery rainbow umbrella?”

“Even that.”

“Hmm.” Johnny looked sceptical. “Another time I should take you out drinking to places where you can get those then.”

“You already got me drunk on Bellini. I think I’ve proved to you that I can drink anything.”

“Yeah, but look what happened when you drank Bellini.” Johnny’s grin was wicked. “It made you have gay sex. Who knows what you’d do after pink cocktails with rainbow umbrellas?”

Ryan glanced around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation, but nobody seemed to be. Changing the subject quickly he asked, “So, did you manage to get all your unpacking done?” He picked up his pint again, drinking as Johnny answered.

“Yeah. It didn’t take me too long. It’s a nice room, bigger than my old one and there’s more storage space so it’s looking pretty good already. How long have you been living in the house next door?”

“I moved in at the start of my second year, so nearly two years now.”

“You doing your finals soon then? Hence all the revising?”

“Yeah. They start in about two weeks.” Ryan felt the familiar lurch of dread in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He knew he should do fine. He was a good student and he’d worked consistently hard for three years, but now the moment of truth was so close he couldn’t help worrying he was going to fuck up somehow. He took another long swallow from his pint.

“You’re drinking quickly,” Johnny remarked. He’d barely touched his drink, and Ryan’s pint was half-empty. “Are you nervous?”

Surprised by the direct question, Ryan answered honestly. “Yes.” He met Johnny’s cool, grey gaze. “A bit. Aren’t you?”

Johnny shrugged. “Not really. What is there to be nervous about?”

“For you, nothing maybe. But for me this is new.”

“Going out for a drink with another guy? Surely you’ve done that before.” Johnny’s voice was teasing.

Maybe it was the alcohol on his nearly empty stomach that made Ryan reply bluntly. “Yeah. But I’ve never done it with a guy I’ve had sex with.” He was careful to speak quietly, so only Johnny would hear him.

There was a pause while their eyes locked, and Johnny’s pupils grew larger as they stared at each other. “Yeah, I guess not,” he said finally. His lips curved in a mischievous smile. “Well, drink up then. And I’ll try and catch up.” He lifted his glass and took a few swallows, his throat bobbing enticingly as he did so. Putting his now also half-empty glass back down, he belched, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Excuse me.”

By the end of the second drink, Ryan was feeling much more mellow. They’d stuck to safe topics after Ryan’s admission of nerves, talking about their housemates, and then moving on to discuss films and TV shows they liked. Johnny rolled his eyes when Ryan mentioned watching football on TV. “You’re so predictable.”

Ryan shrugged it off, laughing. “What? Loads of guys like football.”

“I know. But still. Drinking beer, watching football, wearing manky old trainers and a hoodie out to the pub—”

“Hey, these trainers aren’t manky!” Ryan protested. “They’re only a few months old.”

Johnny shrugged. “Still. You’re just so straight.”

“I am straight—well, mostly,” Ryan added quickly as Johnny raised an eyebrow. “And there’s no need to make it sound like an insult.” His glass was empty again, and Johnny’s drink was nearly finished too. “You want to stay here for another drink? Or head off?”

“Head home, or to a different pub?”

Ryan checked his watch, it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, and he was on study leave now so he didn’t need to get up early. “I’m up for another drink if you are.”

“I’m working early tomorrow, but fuck it. It’s not like my job is particularly challenging. As long as I don’t go in reeking of booze I’ll be fine. Let’s go somewhere else though.”

They stood, and Johnny slid his black leather jacket over the purple T-shirt. With it on, he looked more like a sexy ninja than a grungy rock chick. Ryan couldn’t decide which look he preferred. He couldn’t deny his attraction. The casual flirtation when they’d first arrived at the pub had piqued his interest, but since then things had been very platonic between them. He couldn’t tell whether they were on the same page or not and he was afraid to ask. Maybe more alcohol would give him the courage to make a move.