Chris noted Blake’s laptop, open on the coffee table. “But you’re still working?”
Blake sat and sighed as Chris took the seat beside him. “Not what you think.”
Chris grabbed the laptop and pulled it to his knees. “So?”
“It’s the book I told you about.”
“Can I read it?”
Blake pushed the screen down. “No, not really.”
He handed it over to Blake. “Tell me what it’s about then. I want to know.”
“You thought it was stupid last time.”
“When?”
“When we went for coffee. You said, what do you know about love?”
He laughed. “I was kidding.” He reached for Blake’s hand and squeezed it inside his. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to wrestle it out of you?”
Blake pointed to his stomach and at all the empty wrappers around the room. “I’ve eaten way too many carbs to wrestle.”
“So, I’m a character?”
“You’d be so lucky.”
“Then tell me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. But if you laugh, I’m kicking you out.”
“So far.” He opened the laptop. “I’ve written about a guy who’s unlucky in love, and a guy trying to find someone to be there for him, you know, even when he can’t be there for himself, and all he wants is the reassurance that he’s loved.”
Chris nodded along. “You’re the one unlucky in love?”
“No.” He looked Chris in the eye. “I’m the one who wants someone to be there for him.”
Chris’ knee-jerk reaction was to wrap his arms around Blake, and he tried, around the duvet. He kissed Blake’s cheek and stroked a hand through his messy hair. “Well, I’m here.”
A sob broke from the back of Blake’s throat. “But I’m pushing you away.” A tear fell from Blake’s eye, meandering down his cheek.
He smiled. “I know you are, but I’m here.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re different, and I like that. Because you’re not like the guys I go for. You have kind eyes and you make me smile. You’re full of life, and nobody can take that away from you.”
Blake wrapped his arms around Chris, pulling him in tight. “Thank you.”
“I wish you’d let me in and know what you’re thinking.”
He wiped his eyes. “I want to cuddle.”
“I’m great at that.”
“But only if you’re the big spoon.”
Chris nodded and kissed Blake’s cheek. “My favourite.” He patted Blake’s leg. “In your bed, or on the sofa?”
He nodded to the open door across the floor. “In there.”
Surprisingly, Blake’s bedroom was clean, clear of clutter, mostly because he’d trailed everything outside, but he tried not to eat in his room, he once read a motivational book about not eating where you work, or sleeping where you work, the bedroom was sacred ground for sleep and sex.
Blake trawled into his bedroom with the duvet around him. Chris followed, holding Blake’s hand. “Left or right?” Blake asked, nodding to the bed.
“Whichever you prefer.”
“I like to face my wardrobe.”
Chris nodded. “Sure.”
Blake climbed into the bed and laid his head on a pillow. Chris took his jacket and shoes off. He looked over at Blake, staring blankly at the wardrobe against the wall. He pulled away the striped jumper he was wearing and unbuckled his belt to remove his trousers.
Chris sat on the bed and faced the back of Blake’s head. “Can I get in?”
“Yeah, sure.” He opened the cocoon and threw it over them both.
Chris shimmied his body behind Blake’s, pressing his chest against his back and wrapped an around under his side. They laid in silence while Chris drew circles on Blake’s back with a finger.
Blake sighed. “I don’t get why you’re being nice to me when I’ve been horrible.”
“Believe it or not, I like you.”
“But why?”
Chris kissed the nape of Blake’s neck. “I do, you’re different.”
“You’re moving up and moving on in your life and career, and I’m being dragged away from everything I’ve worked for.”
“It’s crap, what they’re doing, but if you wanted, you could find a much better job, and much better pay.”
“I know I could, but I like it at Vague, I like the people, but they’re making so many cuts.” He sighed. “You know they’re going to stop the coffee runs altogether soon.”
He nodded. “I heard.” He kissed Blake again. “I also heard they’re trying to make the magazine look profitable for investors, probably why they cut so many pages, and increased the number of online posts.”
Blake groaned, pulling at Chris’ arm. He held his hand, looking at the road map of his palm in the darkness. “It sucks.”
“Did you speak to Nicole about it?”
“Yeah, she was no help.”
Chris squeezed Blake against him. “I like that, about you—” he inhaled deeply. “You confront things head on, and you challenge me.”
He kissed Chris’ hand. “I don’t do it just for you, I do it with everyone.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“I’ve never been with someone who challenges me quite like you.”
“Like the whole PDA thing?”
“In a way, but that’s different.”
“I thought you were a dick at first.”
“Oh, I am, I’m not nice to everyone, only those who have my affection.” He nuzzled his head into Blake’s neck and kissed.
They continued to talk until Blake found sleep, snuggled in Chris’ arms, snoring aloud. He stayed for a moment, his arm beneath Blake. He couldn’t sleep, it was the middle of the day. He waited, slowly before peeling his arm out from under Blake.
Blake slept for two hours, and in that time, Chris cleaned the mess in the apartment. Once he finished, he sat on the sofa to read through Blake’s story. It stood at five-thousand words, currently, but it was a great base, introducing both characters, similarly named, Blaine and Cal. He was gripped, he hadn’t noticed Blake stood in the doorway of the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” Blake asked.
He tipped his head to the laptop. “Reading.”
A balmy red wave of anger washed over Blake’s face as he stomped over. He exhaled and the anger went. He sat and pressed his head against Chris’ arm. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a good start.”
He gulped. “You do?”
“Yeah, I mean, apart from the obvious character names.”
“Oh.” He toyed with his tongue in his mouth. “I meant to change that.”
“Makes it easier for me to follow.” He grinned. “So, you really think I have impressively large arms and could you really see my dick through my jeans?”
Blake shrugged. “I have a special gift, plus, it’s fiction.” He looked around. “And you—you cleaned?”
“Yup. Once you went to sleep, I was a little bored.”
“You could’ve gone back to work.”
“I could’ve, but instead I wanted to help.”
Blake planted a kiss on Chris’ cheek. “You didn’t have to clean. I know it was a mess.”
“You hungry?” He looked at his watch. “I can make us dinner, if you want? Or, we can go for a walk.”
Blake held his stomach. “Maybe dinner first.”
Chris chuckled. “I had a look in your fridge, you have eggs, milk, I saw some ready-to-cook pizzas.”
He nodded and butted his lips. “We’re not overly keen cooks, unless it’s easy.”
“So, I can make an omelette.”
“You can?”
He nodded. “You should know by now I can make anything.”
“I know you’re good with your hands.”
“You can’t tell anyone I’m nice, it’ll ruin my image.” Chris kissed him back. “I can’t have people expect
ing me to be nice to them, least of all the people at work.”
Blake moved too quickly and caught the smell of himself. “Ugh. I need to shower too.” It was met with a nod of Chris’ head.
“You shower, I’ll cook.” He placed a hand on Blake’s knee and squeezed.
Blake stood and stretched. “Perfect.”
“And then hopefully you’ll feel good enough to come into work tomorrow.”
“Hopefully.”
“Definitely. We’re picking out names secret Santa.”
Blake groaned. “When’s that for?”
“Next week.”
He rolled his eyes. “Knowing my luck, I’ll get Ruby, then I’ll have to buy her something baby related.”
Chris leaned forward on the sofa and spanked Blake’s arse. “If you do, I’ll switch with you.”
Blake expected Chris to have left once he’d showered, but he was still there. He presented a fresh omelette on a plate and was already washing the dishes. Blake stood in his fluffy bathrobe, overwhelmed with happiness, he pressed his lips together to keep himself from crying.
“Eat up,” Chris said, noticing Blake fresh face appear. “I figured we have about an hour before it starts raining again.”
“You figure?” Blake asked, taking a seat at the dining table.
Chris finished rinsing off the frying pan in the sink. “I looked at the weather app on my phone, and I have eyes, I looked outside.”
Blake ate the omelette in five minutes. It was rare he came across home-cooked food, unless it was around Christmas time and he went to visited his mum in Wales or his sister in Exeter, someplace where one of them would cook. He hadn’t even planned where he was going this year, he didn’t want to go anywhere given his current job situation.
Chris was fascinated going through Blake’s wardrobe, looking through all the clothes hung on hangers; the assortment of coloured bowties and matching shirts they were often prepared with.
“This is what I like about you,” Chris said, flicking through clothes like you would a magazine. “You’re bold style.”
Blake finished dressing behind him in the bedroom. “I tone it done, usually, but it helps to be seen and get noticed.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you wear half of these.”
He chuckled. “Did you even really pay attention to me?”
“Of course.”
“I probably didn’t know your name until a couple months back, I kinda just referred to you as that gay advice columnist.”
Blake tackled Chris from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist and tugging him back onto the bed. “And I called you that nasty film guy.”
Chris turned, pinning Blake on his bed. “That’s not a lie.” He kissed him quickly on the end of his nose. “Let’s go get some fresh air.”
In December, the darkness descends at a faster pace, meaning at 4 P.M. the sun was already set and the street lamps were ablaze in their deep orange hue. For Manchester, in the north of England, it also meant cold weather and endless hours of rain.
The closest park to Blake’s apartment was Piccadilly Gardens. In the larger cities, green spaces, like parks were hard to come by, and whenever you found them, they were small, and this was no exception, it was currently even smaller after fencing off a large portion for redevelopment.
Blake and Chris walked the paths together, at each other’s side, like good friends.
“Are you cold?” Chris asked, pausing and pulling Blake to a halt.
“No, why?” Blake clutched his jacket together.
“Your hands?”
“No.” He held out his hands.
Chris pulled a hand into his and clasped it with his other. “They’re cold.”
They continued walking, holding hands. “I hope this isn’t weird.”
His grasp twitched around Blake’s hand. “Feels weird.” He looked around, the expectation of people watching was quickly quashed.
“I used to run here,” Blake said.
“And you stopped?”
He shrugged. “When the gym is just a one-stop shop, getting to run on the spot, and not in the rain.”
“Maybe I’ll join your gym.”
“I thought I was your gym.”
They pulled to a stop. Chris grabbed Blake by the waist and kissed him on the lips. Blake opened his mouth and let Chris’ tongue touch his. Rain fell around them, heavy round blobs, falling thick. It took Blake’s breath away, enough so he had to pull back to look at Chris is in eyes beneath the light of a lamp.
“You said it wasn’t going to rain.”
FIFTEEN
Secret Santa
A week passed and the first snow fell, it was unusual for it to snow and stick. It would usually turn to mush, a grey sludge after five minutes of being in contact with the ground. It was expected to be wet and horrible, but the sight of snow was a surprise, and while it fell, white clumps through the sky, the employees of Vague watched from through windows.
Chris held Blake from behind, with his arms wrapped him. They watched through the window in the staffroom. Everyone had their phones held to the window, taking pictures and posting online. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, which meant it would be met with a caption, complaining about how cold it was.
“Are you sure this isn’t going to ruin your credibility?” Blake moved his head slightly and pushed on his tiptoes to press against Chris’ ear.
He kissed his cheek. “Only slightly.”
Ava awed at them, bumping hips with Blake. “Look how cute you two look.”
“Don’t bruise his ego,” Blake said, kissing Chris.
“But you’re so cute.” She pulled out her phone. “Let me get a picture.”
Chris sighed. “If you must.”
They posed for a picture, but Ava took several, pounding her finger on the capture button.
More people piled into the staffroom, preparing for secret Santa presents to be given out. Everyone stood around in the circle, except upper management, it was something they didn’t get involved in.
Danny dressed as Santa Claus with a bushy fake white beard wrapped around his chin and an oversized red Santa suit. He walked into the staffroom with a large beige sack. “Ho, ho, ho.” He stuck his hand inside the bag. “Let’s see if everyone’s been good this year.”
“C’mon Danny,” Chris reprimanded. “We don’t have all week.”
Danny presented each of the writers, assistants, and other members of staff from the production team with their wrapped presents, some more obvious than others, there was only one way of putting paper around a bottle of alcohol. “Now open them.”
Like children on Christmas day, they ripped into their presents, tearing paper and dropping it on the floor.
Blake stood, distanced from everyone as he opened his present. A book, Emotional Stability and You, he flicked through the pages to find an unopened sanitary towel used as a bookmark fall from the pages.
“Who did this?” he shattered the calm atmosphere. “So?” he held the book in the air. “Is this a joke?”
And to some, it was. He looked around to see their smiling faces glint back at him. He sucked back air and shook his head. Everyone appeared to be smiling at him.
“Hey, it’s all in good fun.” Chris approached him with an arm open to embrace, in his other hand he held a large expensive bottle of champagne.
“Was it you?”
“No, no, why do you think I’d buy you that?”
He looked around at their faces, expecting a response. “No, so who did?”
Danny tssked his teeth. “It’s secret Santa, Blake, nobody knows.”
“Emotional stability,” he scoffed, holding the back above his head. “Anyone want to swap?”
No response. “I’ll swap with you,” Chris said, ushering Blake into his arm. “It’s just a book.”
“It’s a joke.”
“Yeah, so laugh it off.”
“No, someone is having a joke at my expense.”
> Chris shrugged. “It’s not a bad book by the looks of it. A professional psych book.”
Blake dropped it, letting it land on the sanitary pad. “Ugh. Whatever.” He stormed off, leaving a trail of whispering people behind.
Chris followed Blake out into Blake’s new office space, a desk surrounded by several other desks. He stood in the doorway. “Blake.”
“No.” Blake threw himself into his office chair and pushed himself to his computer. He stared with an intensity at the word document. “Why would someone do that?”
“Well, I mean—”
“Don’t answer that.”
Chris stood behind Blake and massaged his hands around Blake’s neck and shoulders. “I don’t think they meant it in an offensive way.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t, I just—”
“Did you buy me it?” He flicked at Chris’ hands.
“No, god no. You know I had Ruby, I told you.”
Blake laid his head on his desk and groaned. “I know.”
He had a habit of forgetting, of losing himself in the moment, even though he was always in the moment, he’d always lose whatever happened, and whenever he was with Chris, he came away feeling better, even if he didn’t want to be near anyone.
“But I’ll swap with you.”
“Yeah?”
Chris planted the bottle of champagne on the desk beside Blake’s head. “Sure. Would’ve only ended up with you anyway.”
He stood and kissed Chris. “That’s true.” He kissed him again. “Early lunch?” he grabbed the bottle of champagne and waved it in his face.
He shook his head. “I can’t, I have a meeting in thirty minutes with Monica and Franco.”
“Uh.” Blake rolled his eyes hard.
As Chris left, Ava joined Blake.
“I hate secret Santa,” she said. “The pressure of buying a gift you don’t know if someone will like or not.”
Blake groaned, his face sinking into a mess of wrinkles. “It wasn’t you, was it?”
She gasped. “Oh, god no. I bought a cookbook for Gloria.”
He nodded to the alcohol in his hands. “Want to go for an early lunch?”
“I can’t, you know I’m assisting in the photoshoot with Donna this afternoon.”
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