"One-twenty-five."
Lucas handed over the notes, flicking through them idly as though that amount of money as no big deal to him. Cavan forced his eyes away from the purple twenties and focused on the traffic passing by outside. He was starving and really needed something to eat. "Do you fancy getting some lunch?" he asked as Lucas pocketed the remaining money and turned towards the exit, not even saying 'bye' to Amy.
"Of course. Chinese?"
"Aren't we going to have that with your friends?" Cavan grinned, his insides still humming.
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Okay. Pub?"
"Sure, same one as last time?"
"Might as well."
They made it to the pub within ten minutes back up the high street and, once they both flashed their I.D.'s -something Cavan snickered at -they settled down and grabbed the menu's. Once decided, Cavan decided to be chivalrous and head up to the bar to order. Lucas organised their belongings to bunch up down one end of the booth, so it wasn't orbiting their food or their legs. Cavan arrived and placed a pint in front of Lucas and a coke in front of his vacant chair.
"So ... Are you anxious about tomorrow night?" he asked as he shuffled out of his jacket.
"A little," Lucas stated, his shoulder's hunching.
"Have you ever met your boyf -er -other partner's parents before?"
Lucas cocked an eyebrow and took a deliberately slow sip from his pint. He licked the froth from his lips and set the glass down. "I've only met one ex's parents before. They were almost as strict as my own and didn't really approve of me. Not because I'm gay or their son was gay, they were oddly open about that."
Cavan frowned. That sounded ... all sorts of wrong, already. "So ... What were they disapproving of?"
"Me."
"Just you?"
"Yes."
"Because ...?"
"They didn't approve of my being in the military."
"Was their son not ...?"
"No," Lucas said tightly. "They thought we were a callous, unruly bunch that had a lay in every city."
Cavan scrunched his forehead up so much Lucas wondered if he could burst a blood vessel. "Sorry," Cavan rubbed at his face and raked a hand through his hair. "I just -I don't understand how someone could disapprove of a soldier. Granted some people may not like the long-distance or the anxiety and things like that but ... To not like you purely because you were a soldier?" He shook his head.
Lucas gave a humourless smile. "Sadly, not everyone likes the armed forces."
Cavan rolled his eyes. It was amusing to Lucas, to see Cavan getting so defensive over his past issues. "Well, it doesn't matter what you were," he said in a heated tone, his arm reaching over the table to grasp at Lucas's wrist. The action had been so quick Lucas hadn't had the chance to pull away. "Now, you're a kind, patient, strict as Hell teacher and I love that."
Lucas's head shot up; his expression unreadable save for his eyes. His eyes looked scared. "What did you say?"
Cavan blanched a little, but his grip didn't loosen from the older man's arm. "I said I love that about you."
The words rang in Lucas's ears long after the food arrived.
By the time he walked Cavan back to the train station later that afternoon, a dark cloud had settled over the older man's mood and Cavan was working double-time to try and keep the atmosphere light and airy. However, by the time it came for him to work through the ticket barriers, he'd exhausted himself on every level.
"Lucas we can't keep going on like this," he sighed.
Lucas barely felt his face twitch. "What do you mean?"
Cavan seemed to falter for a second. "I ... I can't keep doing this," he said in an exasperated manner. "I know you've been patient with me but -I've also been patient with you."
"Have you now?"
"Yes," Cavan hissed through gritted teeth. He had never posed a threat in any way until that moment. With that fire in his green eyes, he looked almost lethal. Lucas had never been more away of their height different since the first time they'd met face-to-face. "You keep locking me out and pushing me away. In some ways you let me in and in other ways you don't. It hurts me, Lucas. It really fucking hurts."
Lucas swallowed but didn't say anything.
Cavan was waiting for a reaction but whatever he was looking for, he wasn't getting it. He clicked his tongue and jiggled his leg, looking at everywhere except for Lucas. He worked his jaw until he found the words. "Maybe it's best you don't come tomorrow evening," he finally said.
That shocked the older man into frowning up at the young giant. "What do you mean?"
"I mean ..." Cavan clenched his eyes and fists, willing the words out of his mouth. "I mean that I want my parents to meet my boyfriend."
Lucas flinched a little at the word.
"And I don't think you're ready to be that."
"Cavan, we talked about this."
"No, you talked, and I listened," the young man snapped. "It's been almost four whole months, Lucas. I am so close to just finishing my dissertation. Do you really think calling you 'my boyfriend' is going to change my progress?" Silence. "Do you?"
"Look kid -"
"Whatever," Cavan cut across him. "Do whatever you want, Lucas. It's what you do best, looking out for yourself, right? But can you do just one thing for me?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Don't come to see me tomorrow."
"So, you suddenly don't want me to meet your parents?" Lucas asked, his upper lip curling a little.
"Not like this," Cavan said, the fire gone from his belly. All he felt was anxiety and exhaustion. A lethal combination for the young man. A quick glance up at the timetable chart showed him that his train was imminent. "Look, I need to go. I'll see you around."
Lucas was too stunned to react until he saw Cavan's head disappear around the corner of the door. He dug his phone out of his pocket and tried dialling the little shit's number.
Straight to voicemail.
Fuck.
Saturday PM
"BONNIE STOP HITTING ME!"
"NO!" Bonnie snapped at him, continuing her assault on the brunette shielding himself behind a cushion. In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have confided in her of all people about what had happened. It didn't help that she'd gone straight to jabbing his fresh ink, and he was NOT having that on top of the emotional bullshit raging inside his head.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS AGAIN?!"
"Fletcher can you control your woman?!"
"Staying out of it," the blonde man intoned as he casually went to the neighbouring armchair and eased down into the cushions.
Lucas glowered at his friend but was too distracted by Bonnie smacking him with a rolled-up newspaper like he was a dog that pissed on the rug. Thankfully, his reflexes enabled him to swipe the newspaper out of Bonnie's hand -honestly, who read the newspaper anymore? -and smacked her hard across the head before tossing the offending object across the room. That didn't stop the redhead from glaring up at him.
"What do you mean 'do this again'?" he snapped.
"You do this all the time. ALL the time!" she snapped. "Every time someone tries to get a little bit close to you, you pull away!"
"Like you'd have been happy with me staying with any of those wankers."
"Cavan is different!"
"You've not even met him!"
"I don't have to!" Bonnie shrieked, tears in her eyes. "I've seen the change in you, Lucas, even if you haven't even noticed it."
He scoffed.
"It's true!" she insisted. "You're calmer at work from what Rodrick says, you're going out more, you're not spending all your time being holed up at work or in silence, and you're SMILING. Do you know how long it's been since we last saw you properly SMILE?!"
"You mean other than the time I handcuffed Eleanor to a tractor?"
Bonnie glared. "Fletcher, back me up here?"
"Three year, nine months, two weeks and a day."
Bonnie gestured at her boyfriend with an 'I told you so' expression on her enraged face. Lucas rol
led his eyes. "And you think Cavan is some sort of miracle cure?" he drawled.
"He may not be a miracle, Lucas, but anyone who can make you smile? Or daydream? Isn't that worth swallowing whatever black sludge you have in your brain and accept that he wants to be your sodding boyfriend?!"
Lucas flinched at the word but remained silent. He didn't fancy getting hit again.
"Although at this point, I'm starting to think he dodged a bullet," Bonnie quipped.
Lucas shot a glare down at her. "Oh, that's what you think?" he asked coldly.
She shrugged theatrically. "Prove me wrong, Lucas," she challenged. "Get that tree-trunk out of your arse and prove. Me. Wrong."
"You really think that's going to work on me?"
Bonnie faltered.
Fletcher cleared his throat, not even taking his eyes off the football on the TV. "I think you and I need to go for a bike-ride, mate."
Both Lucas and Bonnie blinked over at him in confusion.
"And that's going to solve this, is it?" Lucas quipped.
Fletcher turned to look at them and nodded. "I do."
Lucas rolled his eyes but sighed. "Fine. I'll gear up."
He strode out of their apartment before Bonnie could even stutter an argument.
The roads were dark, only pockmarked by the irregular lampposts stationed along the motorway's edge. The engine roared around him, rumbling heavily between his thighs and his leather gear was stiff and cool on his skin. The wind rushed against him; he could feel it pressing heavily against his chest. Fletcher gunned his way down in the neighbouring lane, swerving a little to one side to let another bike go past. The muffled roar of the engine's pressed against Lucas's ears. It had been such a long time since he'd ridden his bike -he'd missed it.
They'd been riding a little recklessly by the time Fletcher indicated to pull off down a smaller road. When Lucas parked his bike and leaned back to take his helmet off, he groaned loudly. He ached all over and having the cushioned, vice-like grip of his helmet pop off left him feeling too 'airy' up top. As though there was too much space around his head.
Fletcher paced near his bike, cracking his knuckles and raking his damp hair out of his eyes. Lucas did the same, feeling muscles creak and crack through the darkness. Traffic hushed by in the distance, but most sound still seemed like cotton wool in his ears. Fletcher motioned him over to sit on a weathered metal railing over-looking a deep black ditch that bled into an even darker field beyond. His thighs ached a little as he hunched his shoulders, Fletcher seemingly looming beside him. The click of a lighter sounded like a gunshot in the darkness. Lucas quirked an eyebrow.
"Thought you've given up."
"This seemed like an emergency," Fletcher shrugged.
Lucas hummed, his mouth running dry. They were silent for a little while, the breeze rustling the leaves.
"What's going on with you, man?" he asked, his breath misting slightly in the cool air.
Lucas shrugged with a grunt. "I really don't know."
"Cavan's a good kid. Don't do this shit to him."
"No offence, Fletcher, but you've not even met him. Please don't pretend to know how he thinks."
"I know that he retracted a heartfelt offer for you to integrate with his family," the blonde man countered calmly. "I don't know many people who do that who are happy with their partners."
Lucas bristled.
"Did you not want to meet his parents?"
"I can handle his parents."
"That's not what I asked, but okay." Silence. Fletcher cleared his throat, "You need to take a chance once in a while, Lucas. You're allowed to be happy; you know."
Lucas scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That worked out so well for me in the past, hasn't it?"
Fletcher shrugged, "Shit happens, as you always tell us. Why can't you swallow your own advice?"
Ah, the million pound question.
"I feel like I have nothing to give him," Lucas finally said, his fingers deftly accepting the cigarette. The taste was raw and acrid on his tongue, but it was also familiar. He blew a plume of smoke into the air.
"How so?"
"He has parents, a big friendship circle, studies are ending so he'll be getting a good job. What if it takes him places and he gets bored of being around a teacher who's ten years older?"
Fletcher snickered. "That's a l-o-t of problems, mate."
Lucas took another drag and sighed heavily. "I just -He won't get to meet my parents. I don't want him to meet my friends ..." he trailed off.
"Well if that's all that's holding you back, that's a pretty shit list."
Lucas sighed. "He wants romance, Fletcher. He wants romance, cosy Christmas', fun holidays and watching silly movies while it rains outside -and all that other kind of bullshit."
"And you're worried because romance is your kryptonite, I get it." Lucas shot him a deadly glare, but Fletcher was pretty much immune to anything Lucas could throw at him. "You may be rusty but there's nothing wrong with making the effort for him. Most men don’t do that kind of shit until they have someone in their lives worth doing it for."
"I would do anything to make the effort for him."
"So why complicate matters?" Fletcher asked, jostling Lucas's shoulder. "Go and make the effort."
"It's not that simple."
"It won't be if you keep on like this."
Lucas hummed.
"Do you want to go back?" Fletcher asked as he accepted the cigarette, took a long, last drag, and then dropped the butt on the floor and ground it out under his boot. "Come on, Bonnie should have calmed down by now."
Lucas snorted. "Yeah sure, whatever," he groused
Forcing himself up off the fence, he stretched his muscles out again before picking up his helmet and making his way to his bike. Fletcher followed suit. Straddling their bikes, they secured their helmets into place, kicked their kick-stands out from underneath them and revved their engines. They pulled out onto the main road and, swerving in and out of cars, made their way back home.
Sunday AM
In the early hours of the morning, when the sky was still dark outside the window, Lucas lie in his bed trying hard not to dig his nails into his skin. His body was cool, the covered tattoo an irritating reminder of what had happened just twelve hours ago. He drew in a deep breath and rolled up into a sitting position. Hunched over in his bed with no back support made him feel every one of his thirty-four years.
Even his breathing sounded forced.
'Is this how you want to spend your time at home?' his brain asked, haunting and resolute in the dark silence. 'Sulking and being miserable? Or are you going to give yourself a chance and see how things go with Cavan?'
"It's no good. He doesn't want me to meet his parents. He made that perfectly clear."
'Does that really mean he wants you out of his life? Or does it just mean he wants to see more commitment from you?'
"What if committing to me is a huge mistake?"
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