Chapter 19

Ryan had been waiting outside Graham's flat for some time. He knew it was a bit creepy, but he didn't want to have this chat over the phone. He wanted to, no, he needed to see Graham. Tell him in person. Look him in the eyes when he spoke.

Graham walked outside the building, pulled his key from his pocket and put it in the door.

Ryan jumped out of his car and ran towards him.

‘How long have you been there?' Graham asked gently.

Long enough to read dozens, of reviews about all the new improved features of the new iPhone and decide he needed to buy one tomorrow. ‘Not long,' Ryan said, looking at the ground.

‘If you're dumping me, you needn't have bothered coming here,' Graham said with a carelessness to his tone.

This wasn't what Ryan had expected. Hurt, regret and pain mixed and flooded through him. ‘I'm sorry—'

‘Save your breath.' Graham held his hand up in a stop gesture. ‘If you're not ready to come out, you're not ready. I'm not going to force you to do it. But I won't be a secret. Not again.' Graham shook his head.

‘Did you get the outfits?'

‘I'm sure your mum's told you. You've not come here to discuss wedding dresses and Dave's suit.'

He wasn't wrong. Ryan looked at the ground, shuffling from one foot to the other uncomfortably. ‘Can I come in, please?' Part of him wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. The other part wanted to be back in Graham's apartment, on his bed, in his shower, on the kitchen floor…

Graham shrugged. ‘If you want.'

Ryan held his forearm, looked into his eyes. ‘I do want.' He wanted to do this properly, no matter how wrong it sounded, he at least owed Graham an explanation.

Graham opened the door, led them into the entrance hall, then into the lift. They stood in silence, people got in and out on the way up. It felt like time itself had stopped.

Graham opened his door, then stood in the kitchen, leaning on the worksurface, bending forwards slightly. The straightness of his back, the roundness of his buttocks, and the breadth of his shoulders, were all undeniably attractive to Ryan.

Was he doing this deliberately, Ryan wondered. Making Ryan see what he was missing, what he was throwing away? Or was Graham simply being at ease in his own home?

‘Drink?' Graham asked, making himself a gin and tonic with a slice of lime.

‘Driving.'

‘Alcohol free gin?' Graham stood by the open fridge.

‘Thanks.'

Graham made the second drink, then handed it to Ryan. They were standing in the kitchen, an enormous and obvious silence stretching between them. Evidently Graham wasn't going to talk as he had before. Now he was going to listen; make Ryan explain himself.

Ryan tried to get clear in his head all the reasons why he couldn't continue seeing Graham. He sipped his drink. ‘Tastes like real gin.'

Graham nodded. ‘That's the point, I believe.' He gave a brittle and brief smile.

Ryan swallowed, bracing himself. ‘It's not about me coming out. It's because I can't give you what you want.' He stared at Graham.

‘How do you know what I want? You've never even asked me.'

‘What you went through with your mum, it must have been really hard. Bringing up Sam, like you were his dad. I'm really sorry but can't fix that for you.'

Graham shrugged. ‘How do you know that's what I want from you?'

‘Isn't it?' Ryan frowned in confusion.

Graham looked away, shook his head. ‘I thought we were just having some fun. That's all I ever wanted from you.'

‘Okay. But to be clear, when you say fun, you mean dating, relationship, moving in together, all that?'

Graham nodded. ‘Maybe. Eventually. Probably. Why?'

Ryan shook his head. ‘That's not for me. I can't.'

‘Can't or won't?'

‘Same difference.'

‘One implies choice, the other doesn't.'

Ryan sighed. ‘Their divorce nearly killed Mum and Dad. I can't go through that myself, so I won't. So, it's won't and can't. Both. Same.'

Graham shrugged. ‘I can't promise you I'll never hurt you. I can't promise you nothing will change in our lives. I can't promise you we won't change. But I can promise you I've never felt this way about someone. The hope. The caring. The lust. I want you.' He coughed. ‘Wanted.' Then staring at Ryan, Graham said, ‘Still do. Want you.' He looked away. ‘But if I can't make you feel the same way about me, then that's it, I suppose.'

Ryan sighed; it seemed foolish of him, hearing it like that.

‘I had no marriage to aim for,' Graham said, ‘I only knew Mum, alone, looking after us. Badly. Do you know the main reason for divorce?'

Ryan shook his head.

‘Marriage.'

Ryan frowned. ‘I don't understand.'

‘I help brides and grooms find their perfect wedding outfit all the time. Sometimes it lasts, and sometimes it doesn't. But if you don't give it a chance, how can you know. People who aren't married don't divorce. But you've got to believe, in love, in forever, in hope, in romance. And unfortunately, you clearly don't. I understand why. And that's fine.'

‘Sorry,' Ryan said, and really meaning it.

‘Don't apologise. It's not fine, it's shitty, that the first man I've wanted to do more than have sex with in, well, forever, doesn't believe in love. So, I'm stuck back with men who don't want love, and just want sex, and I can't be bothered with all that. I'd rather have a wank or a cold shower.'

‘I wouldn't.'

Graham's eyes lit up. ‘So don't.' His eyes seemed to say, pick me, choose me, love me.

But Ryan was frozen. His heart couldn't stand breaking up with Graham if they carried on dating. When they inevitably split up. So, he decided, it was simpler, safer, easier, to bail on the relationship now. Although his mother had been okay about him dating Graham, he still wasn't sure how he felt about saying he was gay, talking about it, with others. He was Ryan and that was all. And Ryan didn't date, because serious relationships always ended, if his parents' marriage couldn't last, what hope did he have? ‘We can still be friends.'

Graham shook his head, had tears in his eyes. ‘I don't need more friends. I've got friends coming out of my ears. I've got gym friends, work friends, gay friends, family friends, neighbour friends, straight friends. All kinds of friends. Some of them are only friends for one purpose, most of them I wouldn't tell my inner most worries to. A lot of them, I'm sure will drift away over the years, from changes in circumstances, location, life stage, and that's fine. I've got some friends I've known longer than you've known Sam. Some friends, I've had since before Sam was born. Nearly. First year of secondary school. Don't talk to me about friends. Everyone either wants to fuck me and leave, or never fuck me and stay around, until we drift apart. Well, I'm sick and tired of it. I want—'

Ryan kissed him. There was a sadness to it, as they both knew it would their last kiss. A hunger, as Ryan opened his mouth, tasting Graham, dipping his tongue into the warmth of Graham's mouth, pressing himself against Graham's hard muscular body. Longing for them to be skin to skin, tasting more.

With a desperation Ryan hadn't appreciated before, the fire Graham had lit in him reappeared instantly. He undid Graham's trousers, pulled them and his underwear down, reaching down for Graham's hard-on. Ryan needed this. He might not describe himself as homosexual, gay, but he was Graham-sexual, or man-dick-arse-sexual maybe…Whatever.

He'd missed this, all of his life until now. And now, after a lifetime of nothing much, of avoiding getting serious with women, or running from his feelings about men, he'd found a man who he needed like a starving man needed food, yet he couldn't allow himself to take the next step, towards where could eventually mean forever, because he didn't believe in that, and because marriage and relationships were for suckers.

Ryan unbuttoned Graham's shirt, kissing his nipples, tracing a trail down his chest with his own tongue, the saltiness of Graham's skin, the muskiness of his cock, were sending Ryan wild, as he knelt. Ryan's erection was rock hard, straining for escape from his underwear.

He licked the tip of Graham's hard-on, then, inhaling the musky scent, licking his lips at the shininess of Graham's cockhead, he closed his eyes, opened his mouth and was about to take it inside his mouth.

He lunged forwards, expecting his mouth to be full, but met nothing.

Graham had stepped backwards, dressed, then ran into the bathroom, shaking his head.

‘What?' Ryan asked, banging on the bathroom door.

‘What do you think?' Graham shouted from the bathroom.

The dull feeling of sadness mixed with knowing he'd made the right decision. It was the right decision to walk away, before they became too serious, before he developed feelings for Graham that were more than physical. The right decision wasn't always the easy option, his dad had said. ‘Sorry. Can we talk?' Ryan asked.

‘I'm all talked out. Can you just leave?' There was a quiet sobbing from the other side of the door.

Ryan's protective nature had him wanting to burst in, hold Graham tightly, kiss him and tell him everything would be all right. Just as Julia had done to Ryan, during the long, painful divorce. Except now, Ryan realised, with a dull sadness, as he left the apartment, stepped into the lift and then stood outside on the pavement, the great irony was that he was the one causing Graham all the pain, so he himself offering to comfort Graham would only make things worse.

Like he said, the right decision was to walk away, because he wasn't gay, or bisexual, he was Ryan and Ryan didn't do relationships with men, or women, or whoever. Because Ryan didn't need co-dependency, smothering, or relationships, since he was perfectly happy on his own.

Perfectly, absolutely, wonderfully happy alone.

Wasn't he?