Einstein's Peep Show

by Josephine Myles

  Rory went to check the contents of his fridge, but nothing appealed.

  Right, fish and chips it was.

  He grabbed his jacket and wallet, and headed out to the local chippie.

  For some reason Rory ordered a large chips and chose the biggest, fattest bit of haddock in the display. Weird that, because he wasn’t actually all that hungry, now he came to think of it. There’d be loads left over. Enough for a big breakfast. But seeing as how leftover fish and chips never appealed, he obviously needed some help eating this. So it made perfect sense to knock on Nathan’s door, didn’t it? Couldn’t let good food go to waste. His parents had drummed that into him at an early age.

  It wasn’t like he was spying on Nathan or anything. Or listening at the door for tell-tale sounds of shagging.

  All was silent, fortunately. Except for footsteps.

  And when Nathan answered, fully clothed, and looking adorably geeky with his hair sticking up all over the place and his glasses slipping down his nose, Rory beamed.

  “Grub’s up.”

  “I told you, I’m in the middle of a paper on quantum algorithms. I’ve been working on it all day. It’s due in tomorrow and I still haven’t managed to crack it.”

  Rory looked over Nathan’s shoulder and he appeared to have been telling the truth, as there was a pad of notes next to his computer where the webcam normally sat. And a whole bunch of screwed up balls of paper and empty energy drink cans on the floor.

  “Have you eaten anything yet?”

  “No, but I need to get this f—”

  “There are no buts. You need to eat. Keep your strength up. Just give me an hour of your time. Chill out for a bit. Take your mind off it all.” Rory could go on like this all evening, if necessary.

  “I can’t afford to take any time off.” Nathan’s brow furrowed. “If I can’t come up with a halfway decent conclusion, I’m not going to get a distinction in this module.”

  “A distinction? Has anyone ever told you you’re an overachiever? Come on, what’s the worst that could happen if you don’t get that distinction? You’ll still have passed, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts, remember? Come on, trust me. I failed a whole bunch of exams, but I’m still here, enjoying life and with a decent job.”

  Nathan narrowed his eyes. “I thought you worked in a warehouse.”

  “Don’t be such a snob. It’s still a decent job. The boss never breathes down my neck, the hours are fine, pay’s reasonable, and I can go whizzing down the aisles on a pallet truck whenever I feel like a cheap thrill. Can’t ask for much more than that, can you?”

  “It’s not exactly what I’d choose for a career.”

  “Yeah, well we can’t all be sex workers, can we? Now come on, when was the last time you ate? Be honest.”

  Nathan’s resolve seemed to falter as his shoulders slumped. “I suppose I could spare half an hour to refuel,” he said grudgingly. “I just need to save my work first.”

  “Excellent. My place it is. Be there in five minutes. I’m setting a timer on my phone and I’ll come and drag you out of here if I have to.”

  “Yes, Master.” At least there was now a hint of a smile in Nathan’s voice.

  Rory did a lightning-fast tidy of the sofa area, and set the coffee table with a couple of plates and four tea lights on a spare saucer. It looked kind of cosy. Almost romantic. He tried not to think too hard about that as he went to fetch the ketchup, salt, and vinegar.

  Should he go and check the bedroom, just in case he got Nathan in there?

  Rory glanced at his phone screen. Just thirty seconds left on the timer. Maybe not.

  Five minutes to the dot, and there was a knock on his door. Yeah, that was so like Nathan. Rory opened the door and ushered him in. “Hope you like fish and chips,” he said.

  “Is there mushy peas?” Nathan’s face lit up with hope.

  “Of course there’s mushy peas!” That little polystyrene tub might not hold enough for the two of them, but Rory would happily give up all his mushy peas if it made Nathan happy.

  And it certainly did seem to make him happy, as he shovelled in the food like a starving man, moaning his appreciation with every mouthful. It was hard for Rory to concentrate on his own food with Nathan doing that, and besides, his insides still felt a bit odd. Kind of achy still, but not like he had a stomach bug or anything. Eating didn’t seem to make any difference, one way or the other.

  “Here, you’d better finish mine,” Rory said, pushing his plate over when Nathan’s was cleaned out.

  “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Yes, you could. I’m really not all that hungry. Honest. I’m not just saying that.”

  Nathan eyed the plate hungrily. “Well, if you’re sure…”

  When Nathan had polished off the rest of his plate, he leaned back in the chair and sighed. It was one of those sighs that sounded kind of sad rather than satisfied.

  “What’s up, mate?” Rory found himself asking.

  Nathan sighed again. “I was just thinking how long it’s been since I ate a meal with someone. Not counting the university canteen.” He scowled then. “That’s just irritating, when people sit with me. Especially Brett.”

  “Brett?”

  “He’s a third-year PhD student, so he leads some of my seminars. Specialises in logarithmic geometry.”

  “Whatever that is.” Before Nathan could launch into a detailed explanation, Rory asked the thing that was bugging him. “What’s he to you, then? I mean, that makes him so irritating.”

  Nathan huffed out a long breath, and Rory didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he turned to him. “We used to have a thing.”

  “A thing? What kind of thing are we talking about?”

  “You know.” Nathan grimaced. “A thing. Like we have a thing. A sex thing.”

  “Oh. One of those things.” But hang on a minute, did that mean… Rory’s insides twisted alarmingly. “A webcam thing, you mean?”

  “No! Brett would never do anything like that. He’s too uptight. No, we had a relationship thing. Like, boyfriends, I suppose.” Nathan’s lips twisted then. “Pretty weird, though. He never wanted to cuddle me like you do. Didn’t like kissing, either. He said it was unhygienic.”

  For some reason Rory wanted to smile. “Unhygienic? Christ, he sounds like a barrel of laughs. So were you in love or something?” He did his best to keep his question casual, but maybe something in his voice gave him away, because Nathan flashed him a suspicious glare.

  “Love? That’s just a short-term hormonal imbalance. Too much oxytocin pumping through your system and making you do stupid things.”

  “Right. Yeah, I remember. You’re not a romantic. But then this Brett, who you definitely weren’t in love with… Was he your first?”

  “Not just my first. My only before I met you. Why does it matter?”

  “It doesn’t.” Rory sat on his hands to stop himself from pumping his fist in triumph. So it wasn’t that Nathan wasn’t into him. He had genuine intimacy issues. Or at the very least, a total lack of experience. Either could be fixed with enough time and patience. And cuddles. Rory could handle all that, easy.

  Nathan was still staring at him. Rory made himself calm down. “Just explains a few things, that’s all. You know, like the way you don’t like cuddling or kissing. Anyway, that’s enough about Brett. He sounds like a prize twat. Let me get you a cuppa before you get back to work. Those quantum whatnots aren’t going anywhere. You can spare another fifteen minutes.” It wasn’t a question. Nathan clearly needed to chill for a bit longer.

  “Yes. I suppose so.” It might not have been the enthusiastic response Rory was after, but at least he could keep Nathan’s company for a little bit longer. He had plans. “Just sit there. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  ***

  Nathan knew he should be getting back to work on his assignment, but Rory’s sofa was so comfortable. He rested his head back and entertained the id
ea of a short nap. After telling Rory about Brett, he felt wrung out. Why had he admitted being such an inexperienced saddo?

  Not that Rory had seemed to mind, although he had looked suspiciously like he was trying to hide a smile. Oh Dawkins, had Rory been laughing at him?

  Nathan sat bolt upright. He wasn’t going to hang around to be laughed at. Or pitied. Both were equally unpalatable. He wanted Rory to treat him like an equal. A friend. A lover.

  Rory walked back into the room, but he wasn’t holding the promised cup of tea. Nathan stared at the contents of Rory’s hands as he put them down on the coffee table. “What’s that?” he asked, which was a stupid question as he could see perfectly well that it was a condom and a bottle of lubricant. “I thought you were making tea.”

  “We can have tea after. I think you need to relax, and I know just the way to do it.”

  Nathan’s bottom clenched. “I don’t think sex is going to relax me.”

  Rory knelt down between Nathan’s knees and gave him one of his crooked grins. “Trust me, I’ll make it good.”

  Nathan tried to stand, but Rory’s hands were pinning him down to the sofa. “I don’t want to be fucked right now,” Nathan protested, but he didn’t sound anywhere near as certain as he felt. “Please.”

  “It’s fine.” Rory sat back on his heels and frowned. “I know it’s not the same without the camera. I mean, you’re not into me. I get it. But you don’t have to be in love with someone to enjoy a fuck.”

  Love. Rory was talking about love. Nathan had to get out of here. He could practically feel the oxytocin pumping out in response to Rory’s closeness. He didn’t want to make a fool out of himself again like he had over Brett. It had hurt him horribly when Brett had said those words. The ones about love being a short-term hormonal imbalance.

  It hadn’t been the response Nathan had wanted to hear to his declaration of undying love.

  And because he most definitely didn’t want to feel that way again, he steeled himself against the plea in Rory’s eyes. “I don’t know how to make this any clearer, but I really don’t want your cock inside me again.”

  Uh oh. Hurt flashed over Rory’s face for an instant, but then it crumpled into something ugly.

  “Okay, I get it. I’m only good enough for you to use when you want to make some money. That’s fine. I just thought we were friends, that’s all.”

  “I don’t think we’ve got anything in common.” Except the sex. And the favourite TV shows. And the cuddling. But it wasn’t enough to risk his heart over. Not when Rory was plainly too cool to saddle himself with some skinny, geeky boyfriend. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”

  This time Rory didn’t try to hold him down when Nathan went to stand. He should have been happy about that. Should have been delighted to walk out of Rory’s flat and down the hallway. He should have been relieved to finally sit down in front of his computer ready to start back on the essay.

  Bloody short-term hormonal imbalances.

  ***

  Rory stared at the door, mentally willing Nathan to come back so they could have a proper argument. One where they got all close and in each other’s faces, until the urge to fuck like bunnies took over and then all would be good again.

  He could chase after Nathan. Demand he listen to what Rory had to say. All that stuff he’d been bottling up about how he really felt.

  But what did he really feel, after all?

  Did he really want to settle down yet? He was still young…ish. The night was young, at any rate. And there’d be someone down the Feathers he could pull, should he want to.

  Did he want to?

  Rory sighed and went to get ready for a night out.

  He should be excited. Horny at the prospect of fucking some random stranger.

  It just all seemed a bit pointless, for some reason.

  Chapter Nine

  Four hours later, and Nathan finally typed the last sentence of his conclusion. It wasn’t his best work, he knew that. Far from it, in fact, but it would have to do. Right now he had more pressing things on his mind.

  Rory. And their relationship to each other.

  The memory of Rory’s face as Nathan turned him down kept popping into his consciousness. Yes, he’d been angry, but before that, Nathan had seen naked hurt. He knew how to recognise that one as he’d studied his own face in the mirror after things had gone south with Brett.

  So if Rory was feeling as bad as Nathan had back then, that meant Rory felt something for him. Something more than friends with benefits.

  Hope fluttered in Nathan’s belly, like a moth trapped in a glass.

  He had to patch things up.

  His mind made up, he checked his watch. Half past eleven. It was late, but Rory often used to get home later than that, so maybe that was an acceptable time to call round.

  Yes, it would have to be. Nathan couldn’t cope with this moth-belly thing all night long. He’d go crazy. He shut down his computer and walked out, locking the door behind him.

  Should he text first? What if Rory was out? After all, he hadn’t heard the sound of the telly through the wall like he usually did.

  Oh God, what if he’d gone out to a club and was on his way home right now? On his way home with some strange man? Just because Rory had spent the last ten days with him didn’t mean he owed Nathan any kind of fidelity. Especially after the things Nathan had said to him.

  The moth flapped its wings sickeningly and the glass shattered, filling Nathan’s innards with needle-sharp shards.

  Nathan wasn’t going to let Rory and his mystery tart get past him. He’d stand vigil on the stairs. He planted his feet wide and stared into the empty stairwell, in it for the long haul.

  The timer on the lights went out and he was plunged into the half-light of the streetlamps through the window. This probably wasn’t going to be much fun, but at least Nathan was a patient man. Patient until he thought about Rory with his hands all over some other man, anyway. That made him start pacing, his hands working uselessly by his sides.

  Would he have it in him to throw a punch? Was that even what you did? Throw them? Or did you pull them? There was bound to be a difference. Nathan had heard both expressions, but never given it much thought. Fighting had never interested him, but maybe he should have been paying more attention, at least to the simple physics of it. Right now, he wanted to prove himself worthy of Rory by besting some other bloke in hand to hand combat. Trouble was, Nathan probably wouldn’t be able to fight his way out of a paper bag. Well, maybe one of those tissue thin ones you got from the stationers, but not the heavy duty kind you got things through the post in sometimes. Those were tough.

  Oh God, what was he thinking? Rory wouldn’t want a relationship with a man who could be beaten in a fight by a sheet of cellulose. Why hadn’t he joined the fencing club at school? Then at least he’d know how to wield a weapon in a threatening manner, even if he didn’t have the guts to use it on anyone.

  Maybe he should Google some kind of beginners’ guide to fighting. Yes, that might help.

  Just as he was in the act of turning back to his room, a door creaked.

  Nathan froze.

  There were no lights coming from Rory’s door, but now his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, Nathan could clearly see Rory standing there, in a pair of boxers and nothing else. Nathan’s body did its predictable routine at the sight, but this time there was something new. A pain is his chest where there hadn’t been any pain before. And not an imminent heart-attack kind of pain, either.

  Their gazes locked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Rory said.

  “I thought you must have gone out.”

  “Thought about it, but I didn’t want to.”

  “No?”

  “Not really.”

  At that Rory seemed to be done, and all Nathan could hear over the drumming of his heart was the occasional car rumbling past outside.

  So it was down to him to say something.

  Where to begin
?

  With something honest. Yes. But not baring his innermost hopes and fears just yet. Not until he’d figured out where Rory was coming from.

  “I missed you,” he said, eventually.

  “Oh?”

  It was hard to read Rory’s expression in the shadows.

  “Yes. I haven’t… Well, I finished my paper, but I kept thinking about you instead of the numbers. You’re very distracting.”

  “I am?” Rory’s voice sounded a little warmer.

  Encouraged, Nathan risked a little more. “I think you might be the most distracting man I’ve ever met. In a good way, I mean.”

  “I might be? Or I am? It’s not like you to be vague.”

  Was Rory teasing him? “You are,” Nathan insisted. “Definitely.”

  Rory folded his arms. “So why do you keep pushing me away? You know how that makes me feel? It makes me think you only want me around when it’s on camera. When you’re getting paid.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “Then why did you run away earlier? You told me you didn’t want my knob in you again. Those exact words.” Rory took a step towards him, and then they were only a couple of feet apart. If he’d stretched his arms out, Nathan could have touched him.

  How he wanted to touch Rory. But now that Rory was standing in the patch of light from the streetlamp, Nathan could see all the hurt still lingering around his eyes.

  Okay. Time to be honest. Really honest. Nathan steeled himself for laughter. “I just don’t like to bottom, that’s all. I know I don’t exactly look the part, but I’m a top. I mean, I think I am. I’ve only done it the one time and Brett didn’t enjoy it, but I’m fairly sure I can get better with practice. I’d be happy to practice. With you in particular,” he added, just in case Rory hadn’t caught his drift.

  Rory was staring at him like he was a lunatic. “Is that all? That’s your big secret?”

  “It’s not a big secret. It’s just…” What was it? “I’m not used to talking about things like that. It’s embarrassing.”

  “You’re embarrassed about being a top, yet you’ll happily have sex in front of a camera for total strangers.”