Well, a soft rock.
Clay.
“Where’s Chris?”
“Shower. Just got back from his run. His two-hour run.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? He does that often?”
“Every day.”
“Fuck that,” Aled said emphatically. “What a health freak.”
Gabriel laughed weakly as the humour began to dig in where the illogical fear had gripped him.
“I’m sure he’d let you join him…”
“No chance.”
It was the first time since the accident that Aled had sounded really normal, and Gabriel squeezed his wrist. He’d been just as messy as Gabriel in the hospital. Not going home, living off vending machines, barely sleeping, taking all of Gabriel’s abuse about the situation. It had been hell for the both of them, and an entirely different embarrassment burned on Gabriel’s tongue.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being a dick. Shouting at you all the time and being so angry.”
Aled squeezed gently. “It’s all right, darling.”
“It’s not—”
“Maybe not, but it’s understandable. You were in pain and they were making it worse with their transphobic crap. But you’re home now, so no more bullshit. I’ll only take extreme pain for an excuse. Deal?”
Gabriel laughed shakily. “Deal.”
It had been a shock to the system. He was used to the odd transphobic troll on Grindr or FetLife, but his facial scruff and small tits meant it had been years since anyone had been a dick to him about his gender in person, to his face, in his physical space. And he’d not only forgotten how it felt, but how to deal with it. It had been like ripping open the wounds his family had gouged into his skin, and bleeding anew all over the floor.
Now he was home, held fast in Aled’s arms, where he was nothing but Gabriel. Not ‘Miss Lazarri’ or ‘Gabby’ or ‘stupid dyke’ or ‘ungrateful bitch’.
Just Gabriel.
“I used to be angry every day,” he whispered. “Back before—before Kevin and you and Chris and Greg and even Michael.”
Aled made a low grumbling noise at the mention of Gabriel’s ex.
“That was every day.”
“Yeah, well, now it’s a blip,” Aled said. He kissed the back of Gabriel’s head. “In other news, hurry up and grow this out. I miss your hair.”
“Me too.”
“And that scar can do with being hidden.”
“Oh, I don’t mind it,” Gabriel said. He wriggled a little, settling against Aled’s soft belly. “You know what you should do?”
“What?”
“Have a self-care day.”
“Have a what now?”
“Like—” He thought. Aled’s way of relaxing was usually violent sex, which was out of the question for obvious reasons, or the gym. He was a keen swimmer, and even keener on the little sauna and spa pool at his leisure centre of choice, but he hadn’t been since that bus had wrecked Gabriel’s bike. And brain.
“Maybe once Chris is done in the bathroom, he can come here and you can swap?”
“Swap?”
“Yeah. You can go swimming and lounge around in the spa pool after.”
Aled chuckled. A bristly kiss nudged the back of Gabriel’s ear, and he readied himself for a row.
Only for Aled to say, “Sounds like a good idea.”
That was a surprise. “Yeah?”
“Mm. Give you and Chris a bit of alone time and give me a bit of rest and relaxation. I slept like the dead last night, now you’re finally back where you belong.”
“Semi-naked in bed?”
“Semi-naked at home. Bed is optional.”
Gabriel snorted. “Not right now it’s not. I’m going to need carrying to the toilet later.”
“Well, Chris can definitely help with that. I’ll put my back out.”
“You calling me fat?”
“After what you refused to eat in hospital? If anything, you could stand to gain a few.”
“Good answer. Get me a McDonalds on your way home from the pool.”
“Pretty sure your health-nut boyfriend won’t like that.”
The bathroom door opened.
“Speak of the devil,” Aled said.
“What?” Chris called as he padded into the spare room.
“Hey!” Gabriel objected. “You live in here now!”
“My boxers live in here!”
“Move them!”
Chris reappeared in the bedroom doorway in his boxers, towelling his head and shoulders dry. He was a fine specimen, and not for the first time, Gabriel mourned his total lack of interest in sex. Imagine getting drilled by that. Ugh, yes please.
“We reached a deal,” Gabriel said. “You need to come here where Aled is, then he’s going to go out and get wet.”
“Er. Excuse me?”
“I’m going swimming,” Aled said, and patted Gabriel’s chest. “And this one is having a vertigo attack.”
“Oh. Oh! Okay. Hang on. Let me get some snacks and set up the TV. We can start on a box set or something.”
“Be very careful what you pick from downstairs!” Gabriel yelled after him, then grinned when Aled sniggered against his ear. “What? I’m up for a bit of porn but he wouldn’t like it.”
“I put it away,” Aled said.
“Spoilsport.”
“Hey, we need him. Don’t upset him.”
“He’s not that easy to upset.”
Much easier to upset was Gabriel’s stomach. Although he hadn’t actually been sick in several days, the nausea was still intensely powerful. When Chris and Aled eventually swapped, Gabriel just buried his face in a pillow and tried to ward off both the terrifying sensation of falling from a thousand feet, and the punch of his stomach trying to turn itself inside out.
Then Chris’ chest pressed up against his back, and hairy legs tangled with his own.
“There you go. I’ve got you.”
His hand was bigger than Aled’s, and firm on Gabriel’s jumping belly. It soothed him at once. The soft music of a DVD root menu drew him back from the dizzy edge, and he eventually relaxed enough to nod once, and listen to it cut out in favour of dramatic opening music.
“What are we watching?”
“Figured we could mock some of the DC movies.”
“Batman and X-Men and all that?”
“Yep.”
“Are they bad?”
“Mostly, though there’s a couple of gems.”
“M’kay.” That was permission to make fun of them. Nerds like Aled and Chris could get so uptight sometimes. “Where’s Aled?”
“Already gone. You zoned out for a little bit there.”
“Urgh, no kidding. I want this to be over.”
Chris kissed his hair, much like Aled had.
“I know, but you’ll get there,” he promised. “You want to try lying on your back so you can watch this instead of listen?”
It took a little effort, and a long period of just lying there with his face tucked into Chris’ shoulder to ward off the crippling dizziness, but it didn’t feel so scary as it had in the hospital. Aled had held him. And now Chris was holding him. There was a bad film to watch, and later Chris would help him to the bathroom and it wouldn’t feel humiliating like it had in the ward with strangers. When Aled came back, he’d make lunch. Maybe they’d swap back, or maybe all three of them would sit up against the pillows and watch the movie, Gabriel bracketed by his boyfriends.
“Chris?”
“Mm.”
“Thanks for coming.”
Chris scratched the back of his neck lightly as though he were a cat. “S’fine.”
“I mean, I know Aled’s paying you to, but—”
“That’s purely so I can afford to do it,” Chris said. “I’ve got to eat and pay off my credit cards too.”
“I know. But thanks. I needed you—both of you—and you came for me. I know it sounds really
over the top and dramatic, but I feel like you rescued me yesterday.”
Chris kissed the top of his head.
“So thanks for being here.”
“Thanks for not letting the bus win,” Chris murmured.
“I don’t remember it,” Gabriel admitted. “I was at work then I was in hospital. I don’t remember anything about the accident.”
It was probably a good thing. Aled had told him that his helmet and bike had both been totalled beyond repair. He’d seen the original x-rays of his forearm and the nasty breaks that had now, thankfully, healed. And the bubbling scar of road rash all up one leg said he’d either skidded or been dragged by something.
But he didn’t remember.
He didn’t even really know if it had been a close thing or just looked dramatic because of the shaved head and the stitches. The doctors had done their level best not to tell him anything, and by the time he’d been up to asking Aled, it was obvious he would eventually be all right.
Lying there with Chris, he toyed with the idea of asking—but then filed it away. It was too soon. They were both a little jumpy, and Gabriel wanted to just enjoy being home again.
“Chris?”
“Mm?”
“After the movie, can you help me in the shower?”
“Sure.”
“For, like…forty minutes.”
“Sorry?”
“I want a long shower.”
“Sure you just don’t want a bath?” Chris asked.
“You can lift me in and out of the bath?”
“Sure.”
Gabriel grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah. I should know. Jack’s fallen in the tub drunk enough times, and you don’t weigh as much as he does. If you shut up and watch the film, I’ll help you have a bath.”
A long soak in the bath sounded like heaven, even if it would set off the vertigo like crazy.
“Deal,” Gabriel said.
And nothing was going to smell like roses.
Chapter Seven
Aled went back to full-time work on Monday.
It was a necessary evil. He’d been fighting to stay part-time long enough to get Gabriel home, especially as—given as how they weren’t married—HR didn’t regard Gabriel as family, and certainly not as a dependant. And there was only so much his boss could do against the inhumanity of Human Resources. It was a relief not to have to argue with them anymore, even if he took twice as long getting ready as usual and had to be shouted out of the door.
“The quicker you go, the quicker you can come back!” Gabriel had bellowed down the stairs, and Aled left to spare the neighbours more grief.
It felt…odd.
Certainly better than being at work while Gabriel was in the hospital, but the sustained period between driving into Leeds and getting to drive back out again felt strange. He was itching to send a text by the time he pulled into the car park, but resisted the urge. If he was good and didn’t fuss, Gabriel was more likely to be in a cuddly mood when he got home. Anyway, he’d be fine. He had Chris to himself all day. There was nothing to worry about.
Which had never stopped anyone on the planet from worrying about anything, but it was worth a shot.
Instead, Aled decided to check in to a different part of his life. Waving to the security guard on the front desk as he swiped into the building, he took the stairs for a little exercise then settled into his all-window fishbowl of an office by littering his desk with papers, firing up the computer and picking up the phone.
Starting with nine for an outside line and following it with a Penzance area code.
A bored woman answered at once. In the background, a TV chattered too loudly and a knife was slamming through some kind of foodstuff onto a chopping block with annoyed force. “Suze speaking.” In two words, she said loud and clear that she wasn’t in the mood for any telemarketing shit.
“Hey, Suze, it’s me.”
Her tone lifted at once. “Aled! How’s everything going? How’s Gabriel?”
“Home,” Aled said. “We took him home on Friday.”
“We?”
“Me and Chris.”
“His Birmingham guy?”
“Bristol.”
“Whatever,” she said. “So he’s—wait, he’s staying to help out? I mean…you’re ringing on a withheld number, so…”
“So I’m at work, yeah.”
“Ohhh,” she said. “I got it. So he’s moved up to help out while you’re working?”
“Yeah,” Aled said. “I said I’d cover his expenses and pay him a bit, and he jacked in his crap job and got the next train north.”
“That’s a good solution. Is it working? How’s he doing? Gabriel, I mean.”
“Better already,” Aled admitted. “The mood change is incredible. He looks better, he sounds better, he—Christ. The difference. All because of that shitty misgendering crap from the hospital. You’d think after all these years, I’d understand how his gender works better than I do.”
Aled was as cisgender as cisgender came, but sometimes his own ignorance frustrated him. He figured he knew it all, but then he’d still get surprised by bullshit like the hospital. Every now and then, he’d wonder why Gabriel put the fuck up with having such a dumbshit for a dominant.
“You understood enough to get him out of there,” Suze consoled. “Don’t beat yourself up too hard. Has he forgiven you?”
“Yeah. And apologised for being a dick.”
“There you go. Move on. So he’s doing better at home?”
“Yeah.” Aled leaned back in his chair with a long sigh. “He’s not had any migraines yet, or been sick, but the nausea is still quite rough and he’s got this crippling vertigo. He can barely walk. He had a panic attack on Saturday morning because he thought he was going to fall off the bed when he was lying down.”
“Oh, the poor thing…”
“But he’s behaving. Sleeps a lot, or watches TV. And he’s eating better than he did in the hospital.”
The food hadn’t actually been too bad, if a little carb-heavy for a man who wasn’t able to move, but Gabriel had vehemently disagreed. He’d even got health nut Chris smuggling in KFCs from the outside world. When he’d not even raised a sardonic eyebrow at the vegetarian chilli Chris had made on Sunday night, Aled had felt a knot he didn’t know he had unlock inside his chest.
“Bless him,” Suze said. “Tom’s like that with hospitals. You remember when he broke his ankle in university? Four days and he wouldn’t touch a thing.”
“I think it’s come on a bit since then.”
“You’re so cute when you’re optimistic.”
Aled laughed, then the confession rushed out of him. “It’s so good to have him home.”
“Of course it is!” Suze said. “You were worrying yourself into an early grave. How are you doing?”
“I just—fuck, I’ve slept, Suze. I’ve slept properly. I went to the pool on Saturday and spent an hour in the spa pool.”
He felt human. Alive. Properly alive, too, not just going through the numb motions. It had been weeks—months—since he’d felt like a human being, much less someone’s friend or partner. The phone call from the hospital right after the accident had sucked all the sensation out of him, and it had only crept back in this weekend, with Gabriel home where he belonged.
“I feel like I did after I finally accepted my divorce. Like I’ve been dead on the inside and it’s over now,” he said. “I feel like me again.”
“Oh, honey. You should have taken the week off,” Suze said. “Stayed at home and recovered along with him.”
Aled snorted. “Arthur would have let me, but the board are being right awkward sods about it. Oh hey, I forgot to tell you. I’m out at work now.”
“Because of all this?”
“Yep.”
“Congratulations…I think.”
“Yeah,” Aled said sourly. “Arthur’s fine—you know what he’s like, couldn’t give a toss if I ate babies for breakfast—bu
t there’s been the odd funny look in meetings. Milligan’s made a crass remark or two. Stupid old fucks.”
Movement flickered at the door. His secretary waved papers through the window, and he beckoned her in.
“One second, Gerald,” he said in an officious tone, then covered the mouthpiece. “Yes?”
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr Evans, but Mr Mitchell just dropped off the budget reports and said you’d need to see them today before they get signed off this afternoon.”
“I’ll take a look. Thank you.”
“Coffee?”
“Not just yet.” He waggled the phone and whispered. “Bit of a sensitive juggling act.”
“Ah! Well, buzz me when you’re done and I’ll bring you a brew.”
“You’re an angel.”
She flitted back out, and he uncovered the phone.
“Sorry. Secretary alert.”
“No worries. I figured. So the board are homophobic?”
“Are you surprised?”
“Nah. Especially not about Milligan. Remember the fight he put up when the staff union wanted to put a rainbow flag up in the lobby for pride month? Fuck ’em,” Suze said. “Quit. Move to Cornwall and take up selling rock to tourists.”
Aled laughed. “I wish.”
“I’m just saying, Tom’s got his eye on expanding the business and he’ll need marketing experts to pull it off…”
“Call me when he’s offering my salary.”
“Greedy fuck.”
“Hey, I’m supporting three people on this wage, and my partner’s boyfriend eats a lot more than a new baby. Speaking of which—”
“Still nothing,” Suze said mournfully. “Due next week.” Then her voice dropped. “Promise to keep it a secret?”
“Uh. Sure?”
“Promise. I’ve not even told Tom.”
Aled smirked. Much as Suze and Tom had a perfectly happy marriage and were well-suited, Aled knew a lot of things that Tom didn’t. His place as the brother and best friend had never been usurped by Suze’s affable oaf of a partner, and going by their married track record, never would be.
“Okay, I promise.”
“So you know he missed the second scan because of that traffic accident that got him stuck on the road for six hours and he ended up totalling his car by trying to drive it across some fields?”
The Third Date (Starting Over) Page 5