5. Teddy

I was surprised I was holding it together. But I did, and I turned around and walked off. It was the right thing to do and I, for once, was being a level-headed, decent human being. Ned Anderson had no place in my life. I owed him nothing. He owed me nothing. We had zero history, because that was just the way things were.

Hence, I was walking off.

Flora had headed home, having had enough, and I didn't blame her. I'd had enough too. Maybe five years ago, Flora would have got drunker and tried it on with Patrik Thorn, not for the first time I might add, and I might have tried to be sociable and drunk more than was sensible, put a smile on my face.

Patrik had always had a thing for her. Like N…

No. I couldn't even think it, nor could I say it. I never had. Said it out loud.

This was fucked up to the max. Those people back there? Not my friends. Not my crowd, and I still hadn't learned my lesson. I'd spent most of my childhood with those people in my space, and seeing them again wasn't fun. It had swished me right back to the person I'd been. I felt small. Stupid. Shy. I would never be as cool as those people pretended to be.

None of them were cool. Not even Ned Anderson.

I upped my stride, falling into a little jog as I crossed the deserted main road with its signpost, one way pointing towards ‘our' town, the other the next closest town, both miles away. There was no sign for the road heading home. Luckily, satnav was a thing these days, as Violet had once had a sign placed here, but it had been taken out by the snow sometime last winter. She kept asking me if I could replace it or maybe do a joint one with our logos on it—"All that song and dance," she'd said.

I could do that. I just didn't know if I wanted to. The college would pay for a sign, but we didn't need unnecessary traffic down here, people driving aimlessly, looking for picturesque picnic spots, off-grid sightseeing. Then getting lost and going trampling around the fields, pitching tents on newly planted ground.

I sighed, turning down the steep hill towards home. Violet's fencing up here was rotting once again and heifer 988 kept breaking out and trotting down the lane like she owned the place. The number of times I'd had to walk the silly cow back up and try to get her to jump the ditch into the field where she belonged. She was a stubborn critter, that one.

The sun was just about to fade into the hills, but I could still see the world in front of me. I knew these paths, and this—this here was my place. As far as I could see was land that had my name on the registry. The trees were all trees that Dad and I had planted. I knew every ditch, every rock and every bump in the road from here to the next farm across the lake.

"Teddy!"

Oh, for heaven's sake, Ned.

I'd been so lost in my own head that I hadn't noticed the now-heavy footsteps behind me. He was jogging down the hill, in dress slacks, his shirt flapping around his midriff. Ridiculous man.

"Ned." I didn't know what else to say as he stopped and once again panted, hands on his knees, the mozzies rubbing their wings in glee as they started to divebomb his exposed neck.

For all of that, he was still clean cut and chiselled, his dark hair falling in perfect waves around his subtly tanned face, droplets of sweat glistening where they formed along his hairline .

I was half tempted to drag him home with me just to make him get dressed properly, cover all that skin. Mostly, I wanted to send him straight back up that hill so I could get my life back on track.

"You've gone too far," I said, pointing out the obvious.

"I know," he agreed. "I need… We need to talk."

I grunted. He reached out, put his hand on my shoulder like he wanted to hug me. I hoped he wouldn't.

"This—"

"No." He did that thing again, talking over me, making me step back as he was standing far too close to me. "You said it didn't matter, but it did, Teddy. It mattered. It…it changed everything, and I need to talk to you about it so I don't spend forever wondering if I made the biggest mistake of my life back then."

"You did," I said before I could stop myself.

"I know."

He was agreeing with me, which was…weird. I'd been gearing up to argue with the idiot in front of me, slapping himself repeatedly.

I laughed. Because we were grown-ups, and it really didn't matter. Not anymore. I hadn't spent ten years dwelling on stuff, and I honestly hoped he hadn't either. So I grabbed his arm, and set off down the hill, with him traipsing awkwardly behind me.

"I forgot about…this…and…how to dress."

"Noticed." I glanced back at him, still swatting at his neck and picking up speed to get away from being eaten alive. This was northern Sweden, after all. Swampland and lakes all around us. And mosquitoes. Population: billions.

"All these trees," he panted out. "I was always fascinated by them. The green, all year round. Green as far as the eye can see."

"Trees, mosquitoes, flies and cattle. That's what we have here. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Bloody critters," he said. I had to smile because he sounded like his Aunt Violet, his rusty Swedish finding the right twang against that bizarre and slightly annoying accent of his .

"I'll lend you a hoodie," I offered. I was a born-and-bred Swede, pretty much immune to the bites, but still, my arms were covered and my hair kept my head and neck protected. He was pretty much a walking invite to feast—and I wasn't just talking about the mosquitoes.

We moved in silence, my mouth stuck in a permanent smile. I couldn't quite explain it to myself, nor could I see the logic in opening my front door and letting him follow me inside. He slammed the door shut and released a very loud breath.

"Fuck."

"That's what we did last time," I countered.

I shouldn't have said it because here we were, ten years later. Same fucking circus —I couldn't even follow that up with different monkeys , because we were the same monkeys, staring at each other…

Eighteen and eternally weirded out by the presence of Ned in my space. The oxygen seemed to have left the room, alongside all my senses, and…

I was obviously hypoxic, experiencing some kind of time warp. Ten years ago, we'd been right here, standing in the same places, staring at each other as hunger tore through me.

I wasn't eighteen anymore, but the hunger was just as intense. Every limb hurt as I allowed my body to react, and I slammed him into the wall and smashed my mouth on his. He received me openly, all that warm wetness surrounding my tongue as I clumsily kissed him.

I said allowed , but I really had no choice, ripping his shirt out of his waistband so I could get my hand against his naked hip. My fingers danced over his warm skin, up his back and down over his shoulder blades, playing him like he was playing me—I hadn't really taken in that part until he pushed me up against the opposite wall, pinning me in place with his chest, nose against nose, his breath too hot against my mouth.

"Ted," he whispered.

I swallowed, nudged my lips against his, letting myself feel. This. This right here .

"It mattered. It fucking mattered," he said, fingertips against my temple, soft taps.

"I know it did." I'd always known, because it had been special. My first time. Probably his too. I'd never asked. "Those firsts always stay with you."

His lack of protest confirmed my suspicion. As did his soft kisses against my lips, my cheek.

"Do you really want to…do this…again." His voice was so quiet, his fingers too tender. My heart was beating too fast, yet all I could feel was calmness. The way his body fit against mine, our breaths mingling as his teeth tugged at my bottom lip.

"We…should talk this time."

"About what?" I didn't know why I was asking when he was already walking me backwards into my living room. My home, where there should have been furniture and light. I was filled with a sudden shame at my inability to actually bloody function and act like a proper human being.

"You moving or something?" His arm snaked around my back, holding me in place like he was frightened I'd push him away. Then he surveyed my empty living room. Bare walls. A bleak existence.

His presence should have scared me, but it was grounding me. This was reality, not some kind of messed-up romance novel where we'd fall onto a soft bed and make sweet love into the sunset.

Too much beer. I couldn't think straight, my hands clutching his arms so I could steady myself. Not that I needed to with his firm hold on me.

"Dad got sick. We…got rid of all the stuff…you know."

"Violet told me. I'm sorry about your dad. He was a good man."

"Another Edward." I smirked. He laughed, tipped my chin up with one of his perfect fingers.

We were the same height. I hadn't remembered that. Or how cute he was when he smiled .

"Edward." He grinned. I had to look away. Suddenly, it all felt too intense, too emotional. My heart wasn't as fragile as it had once been, but he made me feel things, all the small flutters I'd forgotten about.

"Shut up," I muttered into his neck, inhaling that familiar scent. He still used the same aftershave. I probably smelled of mosquito repellent and too much beer.

"Where's your bed?" He placed another kiss on my temple, my ear, trailed more down my neck, making me shiver. "You never took me to bed last time."

"We broke the armrest on the sofa instead. It never got fixed."

His laughter was my new favourite thing.

"I remember. We laughed so hard. Thank whatever we didn't get hurt. That would have been quite something to explain to your dad."

"Well, you left that one up to me. Told him I tripped on the TV cable. Like. Yeah."

"The TV cable."

"Wanna do this then?"

"Relive our youth?"

Damn, we were ridiculous.

"Slightly more experienced this time," I argued. I was, although probably not as geared up as he'd be. "Haven't got…stuff, though. It's not like I hook up with people around here."

"Nah. Distinct lack of hits on those apps. I looked. Wanted to see if you were on there."

"No." I actually laughed out loud and grabbed his hand, dragging him up the stairs. "No need to advertise myself. And anyway, the only queer people around here are not…possibilities. There's a gay couple who have that farm on the lake. The one with the campsite. Frank and what's his name? Thomas?" I paused to open my bedroom door. "Then the two lesbians who run the second-hand shop."

"I remember them. Martha…and…?"

"Pia."

"Right. And Patrik's brother is gay," he added.

"Oh, yeah! I always forget about him. He lives in Copenhagen now. He's married."

"Yeah."

"Hey…" I'd been unbuttoning his shirt and gently pulled it over his shoulders, letting the fabric slide down his arms. Then I promptly swallowed my tongue. I definitely didn't remember the way his chest curved or those nipples, plump and distinct against the flat skin, a soft smattering of dark chest hair that my fingers were already combing through—all the things that obviously cranked that engine of mine, as my dick strained against the tightness of my trousers.

"I've got…a condom in my wallet," he whispered. "And a sachet of lube. I didn't…honestly, I didn't think this would be where I'd end up tonight."

"Neither did I," I admitted, giving him a little shove so he plonked his arse on my bed. The single bed where I had slept since I was a child. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to worry about that, or the fact that my sheets weren't exactly freshly laundered or that I ripped my shirt off and let my trousers fall to the ground.

I liked it. I really liked it. The way he licked his lips, staring at the bulge in my underwear.

"You were always beautiful. You still are. Even this older version of yourself."

"You calling me old?" I teased.

"Teddy." His hands were on my hips, while my hands tugged his pants down, underwear and all, revealing the rest of him as he helpfully arched, lifting his hips, and lay back, making space for me to join him.

"You said you wanted to talk." I gripped his chin so I had him where I wanted him because this right here could so easily go wrong, and I refused to let it. It was a once-in-a-lifetime, about to turn into a second chance at something I couldn't define, and I needed to know where he stood, what was going on in that very pretty head of his.

Ned fucking Anderson, splayed out on my bed. For a few moments, I just let myself admire him. The curve of his chin, his dark eyes and lashes for days, his sun-kissed hair .

"I should have told you back then," he began and closed his eyes, taking long, slow breaths. "You still have such an effect on me. Like, I look at you, and I can't remember how to function. It happened the first time I saw you in class. I just…froze."

"Ned…" I kissed him to silence him. I'd wanted to know, but he was far too intense.

"Teddy, I'm being serious here. I was really young and na?ve. I didn't know anything about life or how to behave, but what I did know was that I had the biggest crush on you that year. I was so in love with you that I couldn't stand it. I couldn't even talk to you."

Oh. What was I supposed to say to that. My dick, which had been nicely geared up for action, deflated in an instant. I slid down next to him, grabbed a pillow and shoved it under my head. He snuggled against my chest. Like we'd skipped the sex and gone straight to the afterglow. But there were no sweet bloody sunsets here.

"You never said a fucking word to me. Ignored me for a whole year, and then—"

"We graduated," he interrupted. "And we had too much to drink, and I followed you home because I only had two more days here before I had to go back to my parents and leave you behind. Do you have any idea how fucking heartbroken I was?"

"You followed me, remember?" I wasn't being snarky, just recapping the chain of events. "And pushed me into the hallway and fucked me in the living room."

"I remember a bit more than that. Like that we ate each other's faces and sucked each other's dicks and then you begged me to fuck you and we didn't have any condoms, but I was too stupid to care."

"Yeah. I know."

Slight shame. In my defence? At the time, I thought it was my one chance at ever getting to have sex. The stupidity of youth. I hadn't cared back then.

His arm fell over my waist, his hand on my back. My arms were both around him. I had no idea how we'd ended up like this, holding each other. We'd been each other's first, but there'd never been anything more between us .

"This is another first," I realised. "And in a way, it's nice—knowing I will probably never see you again, so it's safe."

"Not safe," he protested, lifting his head. "And fuck that. That's why I came here."

"Why?" There were so many questions in the room. Ones we were both asking.

"Because I wanted to tell you how much you meant to me. I wanted you to know. You need to know. We all go through life and meet people, and…some people you just… Fuck, I don't know what I'm talking about."

I said nothing, just made myself comfortable against him, making the most of this chance to touch him, enjoy all that skin, the closeness.

"That year, Ted, was amazing because you were part of it. It didn't matter that we never spoke. You mattered to me. And you should know that. I need you to know that. Nobody should go through life and not know how much they meant to someone else."

I didn't know what to say to all that bullshit coming out of his mouth. I wasn't a man of words. So I kissed him instead.