Chapter Twelve Presence over Presents

chapter twelve

Presence over Presents

Jayden fluttered his eyelids open, surrendering to the pale light seeping in through the half-closed blinds in Rick’s apartment. It couldn’t be the sun, could it? He couldn’t have slept that long. He never did when in strange places. Years of moving around had made him cautious of sleeping somewhere he didn’t know.

Then again, he’d had a fucking good night.

Blinking, he adjusted to the light from beyond the curtain and guessed it was from the Christmas decorations adorning Soho. He peered across the bed where Rick was sleeping, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank fuck . He didn’t want to outstay his welcome. Twisting a little, he drank in the rugged lines of Rick’s face, softened by the vulnerability of sleep. He was quite stunning when relaxed. Devoid of worry. Content and tranquil. Off in dreamland, where the little boy in the photo on the nightstand had used to go to.

Jayden wondered what Rick would have been like as a kid. Playful? Fierce? Dreamy? However he’d been, he’d grown into a man who knew how to please. That was for damn sure. Jayden tingled at the memories. He’d never had a night like that in his entire life.

He smiled, then perched up on his elbow to watch him for a while. The warmth of the bed and the gentle cadence of Rick’s breathing beckoned Jayden to linger, to sink underneath the sheets with him. To entangle himself with him and not let go. He had an urge to reach out and touch him. Stroke away the dishevelled strands of his salt and pepper hair. Plant kisses on his forehead. Wriggle under his arms and fall asleep in his embrace.

Oh fuck.

Tension coiled in his belly, tightening suffocatingly to remind him this was a danger zone. He had invisible threads within him, desperate to tether him down. Tie him to something. Somewhere. Someone . Those same threads, ripped and cut loose at such an early age, had left him drifting aimlessly, searching for a permanent fixture to attach them to. But having tangled them around so many temporary homes before, the ends were now frayed. Not so easy to knot and bind.

Jayden not so willing to convince himself to try.

Despite wanting nothing more than to do just that.

But, regardless, he couldn’t stay here. In Rick’s bed. He couldn’t sleep until morning because he’d seen the looks on the faces of those who wished he wasn’t there before. Too many times. It never got easier. What was easier was to guard his heart from ever having to witness those looks again. But his heart, right then, was like a broken, unreliable compass, pointing in both directions—Rick’s arms and the door.

Caught in the middle of an indecisive pull, Jayden felt his rules waning.

With a determined exhalation, he slipped out from the bed, the chill nipping his bare skin. The heating had turned off during their entanglement and now the freezing temperatures felt like a slap to his face for having got wrapped up in something that would never be his to keep. Rick stirred. Jayden held his breath, glancing back to the bed. Rick twisted, putting his back to him, sheets crumpling around him and his light vibrating snore allowed Jayden to exhale his relief, then gather his clothes. The discarded pizzas prevented his escape, so he collected them along with the red wine glasses and tiptoed out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He put the leftovers into one box, tucked that in the fridge, crushed the other and shoved it in Rick’s recycling bin, washed up the wineglasses, then meandered out to the lounge.

With practiced stealth, he slipped on his jeans and hoodie, a familiar ritual of a dance he’d perfected long ago. The few hook ups he’d had, he’d always heard the sigh of relief when he left. Rick would be no different. Jayden didn’t indulge in idle fantasies. The stage was where he played out his dreams. He knew better than to confuse warmth with welcome. Comfort with commitment.

Sex with love.

His fingers on the door handle, he cast a fleeting glance back to where he’d left Rick’s bedroom door ajar. He could make him out beneath the sheets, restful and content, and had to tell himself this was for the best. Neither of them needed the awkwardness of the morning. Rick would thank him for leaving. He’d wait at the grotto with his usual coffee and all would be fine.

Rick would look at him with relief. Not regret.

He clicked the door shut with the soft finality echoing in his chest. He’d never had that before. Never regretted leaving after a good night. Although, he’d not had a night as wonderful as the one with Rick. Maybe that was it. That was why he was finding this difficult. He was still in the afterglow. Whereas that usually wore off with the removal of the condom. Strange. Or maybe not so strange. Rick hadn’t worn a condom. Hadn’t fucked him. He’d ravished him. Taken care of him. Spent time on him. Spun him inside out and left him loose and weak and believing in things that weren’t true.

No, Rick wasn’t the typical man he escaped from.

He wasn’t a typical man at all.

He was sort of… perfect . If there was such a thing.

The dimly lit hallway shone a pathway over faded floor tiles, and he shoved down his beanie to flee back to isolation. But as he passed the room opposite to reach the stairs, a door opened. Not the door he’d secretly been hoping would and have Rick, wrapped in a sheet, beckoning him to come back to bed, but the door belonging to the bloke he’d heard through Rick’s bedroom wall.

Simeon, was it?

Jayden made brief eye contact, and it was innate to offer a polite smile. One that would hopefully confirm he wasn’t a late night burglar and happy to show his face because Simeon wouldn’t need to recall it for a photo fit later. But his smile got him a surprised wide eyed response from the man dressed in nothing but tiny, white briefs.

“I thought you were for me,” Simeon said. Which was an odd. Did he think Jayden was a night prowler? A call up? Hadn’t Simeon been in there with someone else not so long ago? When he’d been all wrapped up in Rick’s sheets. In Rick .

“Uh…no.” Jayden slapped the banister to trundle down the stairs.

“So Ricky boy’s up to his old tricks again, is he?” came hurtling down after him.

Jayden glanced up. Simeon leered over the banister. Exceptionally well formed, he had a chiselled body worthy of an expensive gym membership and benefitting from a personal trainer. His dark hair was impeccable, too. Jayden would have expected it to look like his, or Rick’s, a mess of tangles courtesy of sweat and sex. But along with his neat and tidy beard, there wasn’t a thing to suspect Simeon had even broken a sweat. He was like the men who cruised Inferno. The ones who picked up young ones like Aaron. The ones who had money and liked to use it.

“Excuse me?” Jayden didn’t know why he asked, but when a seed was planted, it needed water to grow.

Simeon smirked, then sloped off back into his apartment.

Jayden fled down the stairs, body shuddering from the cold and the encounter, then let himself out of the block into the crisp night. He checked his phone. It was nearing one a.m. Still, where he was in the thick of Soho, the city didn’t shut down. It had a distinct rhythm, a drumbeat that matched his pulse. He swung past the late night bars, the crispy pavement underfoot with fresh frost, and grabbed the night bus, taking it as near to his campus as he could get, then jogged the rest of the way, the eerie feeling of being alone through the university more unsettling at this time of night.

Once he was in his room, he shrugged off his clothes and rushed down to the communal shower room. It didn’t matter he was starkers. No one else was around. He reluctantly washed away the remnants of the night—the scent of Rick lingering on his skin and the warmth of his breath on his neck—and it tumbled down the drain in a mix of regret and resolve.

Slipping back into his room, he dipped under his scratchy old sheets which were like nails on his skin compared to Rick’s soft cotton ones, and sent a text to Rick whilst under the blankets.

Thanks for a great night. See you in the morning. Your cheeky elf x

That would do. Nonchalant. Carefree.

Nothing to worry about.

* * * *

Rick woke alone.

Which was awful . He hated waking alone when he expected it. When he didn’t expect it, it was like someone had ripped his heart out and trampled on it along with the discarded pizza.

Oh, wait, hang on…

Rubbing his eyes, he sat on the edge of the vacant bed, sheets draped over his lap, noting the remnants from last night weren’t there. Cleared away, no doubt. He stood, bundling out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where, sure enough, the leftover pizza was in the fridge and the red wine glasses washed up, sparkling clean on the draining board. So Jayden liked to leave no traces of him ever having been there with his abandonment.

That wasn’t fair.

They hadn’t talked about whether he would stay over. They hadn’t talked much at all in favour of doing other things. But Rick rarely had to ask. His previous lovers just did. Which, in hindsight, was less about wanting to be with him and more about his convenient location in the city. But Rick had clearly passed out in some sex-induced coma like a man of his age would, and Jayden felt the need to leave. Without telling him. Waking him. As if he were fleeing a terrible scene.

As was his right, of course. Rick had no say over what he did. Still, he couldn’t push down the emptiness Jayden’s absence had left him with. It would have been nice to wake up with a kiss. Or to know that he wouldn’t be waking up to one.

A sordid one-night stand it was, then.

He showered, misery enveloping him at having to wash the scent of Jayden from his skin and brushing his teeth, eradicating the taste of him on his tongue. After dressing, he grabbed his phone completely void of juice—he’d have to charge it at the grotto—found his keys, wrapped himself in his coat and scarf to brave the early frost and left the flat.

Why Simeon was always there when he was would forever be one of those mysteries, like why it was never a white Christmas.

“Morning, Rick.”

“Simeon.” Rick went to manoeuvre past him to the stairs, but Simeon was hellbent on walking with him that morning. “Running a little late, are we?”

Dressed in his usual work attire of a pristine suit, leather brogues, long woollen coat and leather gloves clutching his briefcase, Simeon could wash away his nightly escapades as easy as wiping dust settling on hard surfaces. No one hung around at Simeon’s. Or, at least when they did, Simeon saw them to the door of a morning and got rid of them in the usual way.

“Yes. Late to bed last night.”

“Hmm.”

“So were you, I note.” Simeon arched a brow as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Who was that utterly delightful young man leaving your apartment last night?”

Rick bristled, as if Simeon had scratched his nails down his back made of chalkboard. “You saw him leave?”

“I did. Rather in a hurry, too.” Simeon squeezed Rick’s shoulder in sympathy. “It’s okay, Rick. We all have bad performances.”

Rick hadn’t ever hit anyone in his life. Apart from that one time when his stage combat had been a touch overzealous, and he’d accidentally struck his scene partner. But there hadn’t been malice or force behind that blow. There would be if he let himself swipe the malicious smirk off Simeon’s face right then. Luckily, he was gone, out of the main door and sauntering off in the opposite way to his office on Hampstead Road.

Rick turned the other way, desperately trying not to let Simeon’s words linger. Fester. Itch and scratch. He hadn’t had a ‘bad performance’. Not for years. Glowing five star reviews were his speciality. Critics’ favourite. Okay, so he hadn’t gone all the way this time. No penetration, as such. But he wasn’t an all-in straight away kind of guy. He liked to tease and tempt and ensure his partner wanted that too, before shoving his cock where it might not be wanted.

His tongue, however…well, that was different. And Jayden had enjoyed it.

He’d said so.

His doubts were unfounded, but they clung on like the icicles to the wheel arches he passed on his route to Five Mall. As he entered, his footsteps echoed in the deserted shopping centre, an early morning hush blanketing the place like fresh snow. He was acutely aware of the silence as the stillness amplified the rapid thuds of his heart. It jolted further when Jayden emerged from behind the grotto. Puffer coat zipped up and a beanie hat on, a welcoming, beaming smile as he clutched a cup in his hand as if nothing had changed.

“Morning.” Jayden’s grin indented dimples in his cheeks and when he held out a bog-standard mug to Rick, he blushed. “Sorry it’s not the usual, but it’s best I could do until I get paid. Black coffee swiped from security bloke’s hut.”

Rick glanced at the mug, then back up at Jayden. He took it for the open gesture it was, stomach churning with a cocktail of flutters and anxiety. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Jayden shiftily glanced around, then rose on his tiptoes, leaning toward Rick as if he were about to kiss him. There. In the shopping mall. As if it was the most natural thing to do. And Rick’s heart thudded at the meaning behind the gesture when a janitor zipped past on the ride-on floor scrubber and had Jayden backing away.

“Morning!” The man waved.

Rick and Jayden gave varying smiles of discontent, then Jayden angled his head toward the velvet curtain and their workshop getaway where he clambered inside first with Rick following, stomach all a-flutter as if he were back at school being led behind the bike sheds. Jayden draped the curtain back to shield them from the rest of the mall, then slipped an arm around Rick’s shoulders, drawing him close, and kissed him on the lips. A soft, chaste kiss that he melted into.

In such a state of shock from the whole thing, Rick didn’t respond.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Jayden retracted his arm, stepping away, cheeks colouring a shade rivalling Rick’s Santa suit and bowing his head as if distraught by his actions, a rejection punching his spirit.

“No, no!” Rick fumbled, glancing around for somewhere to put the shitty mug of horrid tepid coffee. He settled for the floor by Santa’s throne, then met Jayden’s fractured gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to…”

“Kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Right.” Jayden furrowed his brow. “I thought we’d sort of moved on from handshakes?”

Rick tilted his head, shoulders sinking as if the rod keeping him upright had snapped. “You left.”

Jayden drew in a breath, face pinched. “Oh. Yeah. I do that.”

“So you regularly flee in the night after…?”

“No!” Jayden rubbed his forehead. “No. Well, I mean, yes. Sort of.”

“I’d quite like a better explanation, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Jayden hung his head. “I don’t tend to stay the night with people I’ve…been with. Not that you are one of many at the moment. You are the only one at the moment.”

“Right. As you are for me.”

“Okay. Great. Least that’s out in the open. “

“So, is there a particular reason for your nightly flight?”

Jayden bit his lip. “Other than childhood trauma?” He chuckled, although Rick could sense there was no genuine humour in his delivery.

Rick didn’t know what to say to that. Luckily, Jayden elaborated.

“When you’ve seen the look on the face of someone who doesn’t want you around anymore, more times than you care to mention, usually when you first wake up hoping to have a good day, it sorta sticks. Cuts deep.” Jayden slipped his beanie hat off, twisting it in his hands. “It’s…not nice to know that someone you’ve come to rely on, or you’ve just got used to, or you’re having a good time with, would rather you fuck off.”

“Oh, Jayden …”

“I’ve never wanted to see that look on anyone’s face ever again. Especially not from someone I quite like. So I make sure I don’t. I leave. Limiting the chances.”

Rick exhaled, long and weary. There was so much to unpick from Jayden’s past, he wasn’t sure where to start. But he supposed he couldn’t change what had happened to him and how it affected his reasoning. What he could do was prove who he was. So he stepped forward, crooking a finger under Jayden’s chin and urging his face up to look at him directly in those beautiful green eyes.

“Perhaps you should have seen the look on my face when I woke up and you weren’t there. That might have changed your outlook.”

“Really?”

“I was quite upset. I wanted to wake up and kiss you.”

“You can now.”

“I can now.” So he did. He kissed him, slow and sweet, sugar and spice.

“I’m sorry,” Jayden breathed onto his lips.

“You don’t need to say sorry. But how about next time you stay? Then you’d see the look on my face when I’m so damn grateful that you are there.”

Jayden smiled, and it was the purest, most beautiful thing Rick had ever seen. Then he dipped his forehead to Rick’s.

“I can’t promise I won’t get spooked again,” he said. “It’s innate to protect myself. And second nature to expect people to want to get rid of me, eventually.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to show you how much I want you around.”

“You could tie me to that bed of yours. Four posters.” Jayden winked.

“Perhaps I should use tinsel to do it?”

“I’ll look like a Christmas tree.”

“The most sparkling, glittering tree there is.”

“But Christmas trees get thrown away after New Year.”

Rick held Jayden’s gaze, unable to counter that. It was true. And Rick couldn’t say in all certainty that what they’d started here in the grotto would last beyond the New Year. All he knew was that this Christmas might not be the disaster of last year’s. It might actually be nice. One to remember. Instead of one he desperately tried to forget.

“How about we get this day over with, then you come back to mine and we try last night again?” Rick wrapped his arms around Jayden and pulled him close. “But this time, you stay. One day at a time.”

“Well, I suppose you do have leftover pizza.”

“Just want me for my food, do you?”

“Absolutely.” Jayden winked, then released himself from Rick’s hold to slither out of his jumper in that long, lingering way he favoured. His head popped out of his top and he threw it on the floor. “ You can feast on me, though.”

A smile tugged at Rick’s lips as a fragile string of tinsel wove itself between him and this cheeky little elf. It might not hold after the festive season was over. The glittery parts often broke and frayed.

But for now, it wrapped them together.

Rick had no intention of taking his decorations down.