What Remains

by Garrett Leigh

  Jodi arched his back and cried out as Rupert stroked and teased him with his tongue, moaning quietly, a low, vibrating hum that buzzed around Jodi’s cock. Jesus fucking Christ. Jodi fought release, biting his lip and twisting Rupert’s hair. Rupert was maddeningly good at driving him insane, coiling him tighter and tighter around an invisible string until he was so turned on he didn’t know which way was up. Didn’t know anything except that if he didn’t come soon, he was sure to combust.

  A thousand terrible firefighter puns flashed in Jodi’s sex-fogged mind, but the coherency was fleeting. Rupert moved up the bed again. Jodi lunged for him and yanked him close, kissing him hard enough to clash their teeth. He wanted more. Needed more.

  “Condom. Now.”

  Rupert took the command and leaned over to rummage in the bedside table. A condom and a well-used bottle of lube were dropped onto the bed. Jodi sat up. His hands shook, but somehow he managed to roll the condom onto Rupert and squelch enough lube out of the nearly empty bottle.

  He slathered the lube on Rupert’s cock, squeezing and releasing, until Rupert growled and batted his hands away.

  “Get on your knees.”

  That was a new one, but Jodi obeyed without hesitation, rolling over and dropping his chest to the mattress. Rupert came up behind him, his cock pressing against him, pushing gently as Rupert aligned them.

  “Ready?”

  Jodi nodded. “Fuck yeah. Do it.”

  Rupert placed a hand at the base of Jodi’s spine, warm and soothing, and a stark contrast to the coolness of the condom as he eased inside, slow and careful, pausing with every inch to mutter words of comfort Jodi rarely needed.

  Jodi cursed softly, reeling at the exhilarating intensity of Rupert filling him, his senses on hyperalert. He’d always loved getting fucked, and with Rupert, he felt everything, from the feathery kisses on his back to the crazy-heat of Rupert’s dick sliding ever deeper.

  Rupert wrapped his arms around Jodi and eased his hips into motion, setting a steady rhythm that electrified the building inferno in Jodi’s gut.

  “Harder.” Jodi gasped and gripped the bed frame. “Harder, Rupe. Please.”

  Rupert groaned. “Fucking love it when you say please.” He thrust harder and brought his hand down on Jodi’s thigh with a light smack, a blow that stung just enough to tip Jodi into an inescapable gauntlet of pleasure.

  His legs shook, and he bit out another strangled curse. Rupert fucked him faster, and used his weight to force Jodi’s hands from the bed frame, pushing him down into the mattress. “I’m gonna come.”

  “Race you.” Jodi found the coordination to push his hips back, meeting Rupert hard in the middle. “I’m close.”

  A hot breath rushed past Jodi’s ear. Rupert’s arms tightened around him. Jodi cried out again and again, until sensory overload obliterated his awareness of anything but the deepest orgasm he’d ever had.

  He came with a yell, tipped over the edge by Rupert’s cock pulsing inside him. Rupert moaned and thrust twice more before he slumped over Jodi, panting, his body damp with sweat.

  For a long moment, neither man moved, then Rupert kissed Jodi’s neck and withdrew, retreating to the bathroom.

  He came back with a warm flannel, and cleaned up with a grin. “All right?”

  Jodi expelled a swift lungful of air. “All right? I’m in fucking bits. That was awesome.”

  “Yeah?” A bit of Rupert’s old bashfulness coloured his features. “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “Honestly?” Jodi touched Rupert’s cheek. “It did hurt, but I like that. It’s not for everyone, but it blows my tiny mind.”

  Rupert snorted and rolled over onto his back, taking Jodi with him to rest his head on Rupert’s chest. Jodi closed his eyes as Rupert combed his fingers gently through his sex-mussed hair. Having Rupert in his bed felt so normal. The nights they spent apart made no sense. Jodi let his mind drift, and imagined Rupert and Indie in Rupert’s tiny bedsit, cooped up in one room and huddled together in Rupert’s bed. Perhaps they liked it like that, but Jodi didn’t. Indie was a growing kid. Soon enough, she’d need her own space—space Jodi had to spare.

  “Where are you?” Rupert tapped Jodi’s forehead. “You’ve dropped off the face of the earth.”

  Jodi raised his head and put his chin on Rupert’s chest. “You know I have a spare room?”

  “Erm, yeah? You said it’s full of junk.”

  “It is, but it’s junk I don’t need. I want to chuck it all out.”

  “Okay.” Rupert frowned, like he knew where Jodi was going, but couldn’t quite believe it.

  Jodi couldn’t quite believe it either. After a mad few years flat-sharing after uni, and then living with Sophie, having his own place had been a relief, but the thought of seeing Rupert every day . . . every night, of building a life with him—damn. That shit felt like a dream he’d never known he wanted. “Live with me.”

  “What?”

  “Live with me,” Jodi said. “Move in. Paint the spare room pink for Indie and fucking live with me. Please?”

  “Are you serious?” Rupert’s gaze brightened, then faded again as caution crept in. “I mean, seriously serious? I’ve got fuck all, Jodi. I pay my bills, Jen’s debts and CSA payments, and I don’t have anything left. I couldn’t—”

  “We’ll figure it out. My mortgage isn’t huge ’cause I used the money my mum left me for the deposit.”

  “Your mum died? When?”

  “Ten years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, boyo.”

  Jodi shrugged. “Thanks, but it’s okay. We weren’t that close. Everyone thought she was some kind of super mum because my dad fucked off before I was born, but the truth was she worked so much I hardly knew her. The nannies raised me . . . all six of them.”

  “That’s pretty sad, but I get the not-being-close thing. My parents haven’t spoken to me since Jen and I split, and we didn’t talk that often before that. They never forgave me for leaving Ballyboden behind.”

  “Ballyboden?”

  “My hometown, just south of Dublin. Population five thousand. There was no work unless I wanted to be a farmer, which I was shite at, and staying there my whole life would’ve felt like I was waiting to die, so I left, married Jen, and fucked that up too.”

  Rupert’s tone was nonchalant, and Jodi let him have it. Families were a mystery to him, and up until he’d split with Sophie, he’d always assumed he’d have to make his own to understand how they worked.

  “Fuck ’em. You’ve got a whole new life now. Live with me, Rupe. The mortgage is only a grand.”

  “Only a grand?” Rupert snorted. “Mate, I struggle to pay five fifty on a poxy room.”

  “So don’t. Pay five hundred for a real home, for both of you, here, with me.”

  “You’re bloody mad.”

  Rupert closed his eyes. Jodi could almost see the cogs turning in his brain in the long moments it took him to open them again. And even then, he said nothing. Just stared at Jodi like he wasn’t quite real.

  “Rupe.” Jodi cupped Rupert’s face in his palm and rubbed his cheek with his thumb. “I want this. I want you. Why is it so hard for you to believe that?”

  “Because I don’t get it. I’m a loser, mate. I’ve got nothing to offer you.”

  “Bullshit. I’ve got your heart, right?”

  Rupert blinked. “It’s yours. I fucking love you. So much.”

  “I love you.” Jodi kissed Rupert once, hard, and lay back. “We love each other, so we won’t ever need anything else. Fuck the money, babe. Just let yourself be.”

  December 26, 2014

  “Daddy?”

  Rupert glanced up from the train track he was building on the living room floor: Indie’s main present that he’d left under the tree for her on the first Christmas morning he’d spent alone in years. “What’s up, love?”

  Indie bit her lip, a habit she’d developed over the last few months when she wanted to ask Rupert something she wasn’t sure he’d l
ike. “Did Jodi buy my trains too?”

  “Erm, kind of,” Rupert said. “He helped me choose them.”

  The white lie burned his soul. He’d sworn to himself not long after Indie was born that he’d always tell her the truth, no matter how complex the situation, but it was a vow he’d found impossible to keep since the accident. How the fuck could he explain to an eight-year-old why the man she’d considered a virtual-stepfather had disappeared overnight? His explanation of a serious accident only went so far. He shuddered to think what Indie made of the fact that she hadn’t been allowed to visit Jodi even once.

  And Indie was no fool. She held a sparkly purple train up to the light. “Jodi doesn’t like glitter. He says it sticks to his bum, remember?”

  Rupert sighed. He missed Jodi’s endearing lack of filter, despite his ongoing worry that Indie would go back to her mother and repeat things that would make Jen’s ears bleed. “I remember, kiddo.”

  “Can we take a photo of my trains and put it in your photo album?”

  “What?”

  “The photo album, Daddy. The one me and Aunt Sophie made for you.”

  Rupert’s gaze zeroed in on a clean spot in the dust covering the coffee table, trying not to picture the flowery photo album he’d shoved on a high shelf in Jodi’s office the day before, unable to deal with it lying around the living room any longer. If he closed his eyes, he knew he’d see every page, composed with love by Indie and Sophie, documenting every family-friendly milestone of the life he and Jodi shared.

  Had shared. It’s gone now, remember? Rupert blinked hard. “I don’t know where the camera is right now, sweetie. Maybe next time?”

  “Okay.” Indie went back to her train inventory, lining them up in colour order, the way Jodi kept his T-shirts, and Rupert’s heart broke just a little bit more.

  That evening, after a bittersweet day of presents, frosty games in the park, and SpongeBob’s Christmas special, Rupert and Indie caught a bus across the city to deliver Indie home to her mother. Indie was quiet on the journey, tired out after talking Rupert’s ear off for most of the day. Her incessant questions, which ranged from scarily astute to plain bizarre—Do clams bark like dogs, Daddy?—usually melted him into a biased father’s puddle of goo, but as the bus rumbled along London’s brightly lit streets, he was glad of the break. He’d been dreading Christmas for months, but now that it was over, the looming new year frightened him more, absorbing his thoughts as Indie dozed in his arms. Jodi’s primary doctor had informed him on Christmas Eve that Jodi would be ready for discharge by January sixth, which left Rupert ten days to figure out what the hell they were going to do.

  Or, rather, what the hell he was going to do. Jodi’s doctors and social workers had agreed to release him into Rupert’s care with ongoing outpatient support, and Sophie had volunteered to look after him when Rupert had to work, coordinating her days at the nursery with his shifts, but even with Briggs putting him on day shifts with only two overnights a month, life was going to be tough. And then there was the money. Jodi had earned a small fortune as a web designer, but he’d been self-employed and the savings they’d had were about to run out. Any compensation Jodi was due from the accident would take years to come through, and the paltry carer’s allowance the state had offered Rupert barely covered the gas bill.

  And that was just the half of it. What the fuck was he going to do about Indie? With Jodi still rendered mute and unresponsive by his injuries, there was no way Rupert could bring her to the Tottenham flat anymore. He couldn’t bear it, and he knew the Jodi he remembered would never allow her to see him that way.

  Rupert stepped off the bus in Wembley with a heavy heart. Saying good-bye to Indie was always hard, but with her off to her grandma’s place in Wales for the New Year, it would be more than a week before he saw her again, and by then he had no idea where he’d be taking her.

  The knowledge that he’d only grown used to seeing Indie so much because of the home Jodi had given them both cut deep, but he’d run out of time to worry about it. Jen opened her front door with her usual stony scowl and held out her hand for Indie’s bag.

  “Has she had dinner?”

  “Hello to you too,” Rupert said mildly. “Yeah, we had pizza.”

  “Pizza on Boxing Day? Nice. Indie, go upstairs and brush your teeth.” With Indie inside, Jen started to close the door.

  Rupert caught it before it shut in his face. “Can we sort out January’s dates while I’m here? I’ve got my shifts.”

  “Really? Now?” Jen’s sneer morphed into the irritated frown she saved for Rupert. “You’d better come in, then.”

  Rupert followed Jen and Indie into the plush town house they shared with Jen’s latest squeeze—a mild-mannered banker with more money than sense, who was rarely around when Rupert brought Indie home.

  Indie disappeared upstairs while Jen led Rupert to the kitchen and retrieved a diary from a drawer. “You can have her the second and fourth weekends. What weekdays do you want?”

  Rupert breathed a silent sigh of relief. Not having Indie overnight until the second weekend of the new year gave him some breathing space. He handed Jen a list of possible afternoons he could take Indie out for tea.

  Jen studied them, keeping him waiting long enough to remind him that she called the shots. “These look fine, but I’ll have to check with Roger. I’ll email you.”

  “Fine. I put January’s maintenance in your account this morning.”

  Jen raised an eyebrow. Rupert had never missed a payment, but he’d been a few days late more times than he cared to admit, and never ever early. “What’s the occasion?”

  Rupert shrugged. “Just getting things in order. I’ve got a lot going on.”

  “Your boy toy out of hospital yet?”

  “What do you care?” Rupert glanced around, looking for Indie, but she was still upstairs. “And don’t call him that. It’s not fair on Indie.”

  Jen rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I just want to know if I’ve got to put up with another six months of Indie asking me about him every ten seconds. If you’ve split up, you should tell her.”

  “We haven’t split up. You know why I haven’t let her see him.” Rupert ground the words out through clenched teeth, knowing Jen would interpret his anger as the usual irritation that simmered between them. An interpretation that suited him, because, in reality, Jen didn’t have a clue. She’d assumed that children hadn’t been allowed on the neurological ward, and Rupert had never corrected her. She had no idea of the ongoing extent of Jodi’s injuries, and Rupert wanted to keep it that way. It wasn’t beyond Jen to fill Indie’s head with all kinds of horrors and the less ammunition she had, the better. “Anyway, I’d better be off. Can I call Indie down to say good-bye?”

  “Okay, but don’t take too long. It’s past her bedtime.”

  It wasn’t, but Rupert didn’t care to argue. It never got him anywhere. He called Indie down and gathered her to him in the bear hug she loved so much. “See you soon, kiddo, yeah? Have a nice time at Grandma’s.”

  Indie squeezed him back with her tiny arms. “See you soon, Daddy, over the moon. Will you show Jodi my trains for me? And give him the pictures I drew him?”

  Rupert closed his eyes and thought of the stacks of crayon drawings he’d hidden on top of the fridge at home. “Course I will. I love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you, Daddy.”

  Rupert showed himself out and caught another bus to take him to Camberwell. It was a long route, taking nearly an hour, and he was half-asleep by the time it stopped across the road from the hospital. Yawning, he hauled himself off the bus and drifted to the hospital’s main entrance. He hadn’t owned a car in years, but for some reason the parking payment machines caught his eye. The screens were lit up in bright blue on black, one of Jodi’s favourite colour combinations, but it wasn’t the graphics that stopped him short, it was the date: December 26, 2014, five years to the day since he and Jodi had met, a day—or night, really—that was etched
on Rupert’s heart in indelible ink. A night that had turned his sorry world upside down and made it beautiful.

  A night that seemed so far out of reach now; the neon-blue digital numbers glowed belligerently and a wave of rage swept through him, heating his bones and burning his chest. The sudden need to smash something was overwhelming.

  He turned away before he could punch the screen, and pushed through the hospital’s revolving entrance. Autopilot led him upstairs to Jodi’s ward. It was after nine, the time of night Jodi usually fell asleep, and for once Rupert found himself looking forward to the still quiet of his bedside, craving the familiar discomfort of the plastic chair. He was worn out, tired to the bone, and with a 6 a.m. start the following morning, a few hours’ uncomfortable kip couldn’t come soon enough.

  A nurse buzzed him into the ward. He recognised her voice, but the station was empty when he tiptoed past. Jodi’s bed was in the corner with the curtains pulled around it. Rupert slipped through them. Jodi was curled on his side, eyes closed, breathing deep and even. Rupert searched out the chair, his gaze cast downward. He drew it close to the bed and sat down, retrieving his phone from his pocket. The screen was blank. Fuck it. He’d forgotten to charge it. Not that it mattered. There was no one he wanted to speak to.

  He settled into his chair and finally focussed on Jodi. Gleaming dark eyes stared back at him, alive, alert, and very much awake. Rupert blinked. “Jodi?”

  Jodi sat up slowly, like a predatory cat, ready to pounce. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “What?”

  “I said, who the fuck are you?” Jodi pulled his lips into a scowl that stilled Rupert’s heart, glancing erratically around him, staring at the drip in his arm and the ID bracelet on his wrist, before returning to Rupert, the hostility in his gaze increasing with every second. “Where’s Sophie?”

  Rupert grabbed Jodi’s hand as Jodi struggled to sit up. Jodi jumped and smacked his hand away.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Rupert let go and tried to calm himself with gasps of air that stuck in his chest. He counted to ten and tried again. “Jodi, look at me. Do you really not know who I am?”