Chapter 28

They hugged, hard, until Jenkins yelled at them to separate.

Newt sat down, Leo took his seat opposite, and they linked hands across the table. Leo's eyes sparkled, and his lips twitched with a poorly withheld smile.

"What is it?" Newt asked.

Leo snorted. "You got him back then…"

Newt's lips popped open. "You've seen it?"

"Everyone has seen it."

"How?" Newt whispered, leaning over the table.

Leo curled over and dropped his voice to a murmur. "Shaw's phone."

"Shaw has a phone? Since when?"

"Since always."

"I never knew that."

Leo shrugged. "Well, he does, and we've seen it." He squeezed Newt's fingers. "Now I want you to tell me about it."

Newt bit his lip, then told Leo the story of how his prank on Mickey went viral. Just like with the birthday cake house fire incident, it started with a knock to his open bedroom door. He'd taken small steps, like Leo had suggested, and had left the house a few times, even visiting Stud Muffins with Stone, but Mickey was the first to invite him on a day out.

"Do you want to come to the zoo?"

Newt had dragged himself out of bed and agreed to go with Mickey, Aaron, Bagel and Sophia to the zoo. The place had a reputation for being lax on health and safety, and the year before, a giraffe kicked a man in the stomach so hard it ruptured his spleen.

The place couldn't be more perfect for a prank, and with Aaron on his side, and a helpful zookeeper, Newt was all set to get his revenge on Mickey.

Aaron asked Mickey to get some ice cream for the kids, and he begrudgingly agreed, taking off in the direction of the ice-cream wagon they'd passed. The path also took him past the tiger enclosure, and Harris, the zookeeper, left a ripped-up hi-vis vest splattered in ketchup on the ground, with his discarded radio and a single shoe.

The gate to the tiger pen was open, and from the radio voices blared about the escaped tiger just as Mickey was passing close by. Newt expected Mickey to be a little unnerved, maybe scared, but he didn't expect Mickey to completely lose it and run for his life, screaming at everyone else to run too, until there was a stampede of visitors claiming they'd seen the crazed tiger, stalking them from behind the picnic benches.

Mickey phoned Aaron in a panic, and Aaron assured him Bagel, Sophia and Newt were all safe before giving Mickey some advice, "You can't outrun a tiger. Just outrun the person next to you."

To which Mickey replied with a slightly hysterical, "I'm the slowest one!"

Then the phone cut out.

It took twenty minutes for them to find Mickey, hiding in a bush. Newt sent Bagel in after him, dressed in a tiger onesie, and growling. All of it had been captured on CCTV around the zoo, but what made Mickey go viral was what happened after Bagel had extracted him from the bush. When he realised it was all a prank, he'd yelled the infamous line, "I'm wearing white shorts. White. Shorts."

Which, thanks to modern technology, became an overnight catchphrase.

The prank made the news, and Mickey announcing to the world he'd gotten too scared went viral. Robin got his revenge on Mickey over the eyebrows by sending him the chipmunk version of the song "White Shorts" written by a YouTuber based on the tiger terror prank, and Mickey had called a temporary pranking truce until his humiliation blew over.

"Brilliant." Leo beamed. "Proud of you."

"For almost scaring my brother to death?"

"Yep."

"I got a lifetime ban, and Harris got suspended for helping me. Mickey can't decide whether to be angry or impressed, but he hates the GIFs, and the memes, and has been considering growing his hair so no one recognises him."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Newt winced. "Maybe I took it too far."

"He took a picture of your cat's arsehole and tricked you into thinking it was Jupiter."

Newt snorted. "And then I remember that, and I don't feel so bad."

"I can't imagine Mickey with long hair."

"Aaron said he'd probably end up looking like Thor, then he started blushing and admitted Thor was his favourite Avenger, and then they disappeared with the mop head into Mickey's room for a few hours."

"A few hours?"

Newt tried to force back the memories.

"Mickey kept shouting out Mj?lnir…"

"Isn't that the hammer?"

Newt hummed. "Sex is weird. If you're not shouting out something biblical, you're yelling about Thor's mighty hammer."

Leo tipped his head back laughing. "Maybe it's just your brothers that are weird, and not all of them." He glanced at Jude leaning by the wall.

"You're assuming he's the least weird when it comes to sex."

"Well, isn't he?"

"I'm pretty sure him and his boyfriend have some weird kink to do with cows."

Leo slapped his hand to his face, snorting. "I don't want to know."

"My brothers are weird, and hugs and cuddles are superior to God, Thor and cows."

"Amen." Leo pulled Newt's hand closer and enclosed it in both of his. "And when we get out of here, I'm going to cuddle you so hard."

"All night long?"

"And the morning after if you're lucky."

It was Newt's turn to laugh.

* * *

Newt had learned the importance of letters when he was inside. It might've been a regurgitation of all that he'd said to Leo during visits or on phone calls, but Newt knew first-hand how much comfort a letter could give.

They could be read over and over, and lock-ups and loss of privileges couldn't take them away.

Newt wrote about the prank, including hastily drawn pictures, and even wrote down the lyrics to "White Shorts" just in case Leo fancied a sing-song in his cell.

Aaron had begun writing stories of Cindy, who'd evolved from a walked-all-over wife to Tony to a millionaire gangster with her own drugs empire and men, quite literally, kissing her heels. Even Mickey admitted the story Aaron and Leo were collaborating on was epic but swore Newt to secrecy. He mocked in public but privately praised his boyfriend's writing skills.

Newt happily told Leo it was the best story he'd ever read before shyly admitting he hadn't read many about gangsters, and drug dealers, and the scene with Cindy killing her ex-husband with her stiletto was a bit too gruesome for an eight o'clock broadcast.

Leo had laughed down the phone at him.

Newt wrote, he visited, he spoke to Leo on the phone, and sometimes there were silences, but they were never uncomfortable, and sometimes Newt had so much to tell Leo he had to cut their conversations short, but he tried to pick them up again in his letters, and thanks to Jude, letter delivery was practically instantaneous. Him and Leo had even managed to play a few games of hangman with Jude ferrying a piece of paper back and forth.

On one rainy November day, Newt clung to Leo in the visiting room.

"You okay?" Leo asked into Newt's hair.

Newt nodded against his chest, listening to his heart.

"Settle down," Jenkins directed their way. Newt released Leo, but Leo wrapped him up in a tighter hug as he tried to step away.

"Not yet," Leo mumbled.

Newt smiled against him.

"I mean it, Leo, or you'll be on the bench."

Leo sighed as he finally let go. He waited for Newt to sit down first before evil-eyeing Jenkins as he lowered himself into his own chair.

"Looking good, Starman."

Newt startled at Bull heading over. He collapsed down on the next table, opposite an elderly lady in a beige knitted jumper. She looked over at them, smiling brightly. Her white hair reminded Newt of clouds, and the glasses she wore magnified her blue eyes to epic proportions. She didn't look a thing like Bull, which was a blessing.

"Hello," she said, eyeing Newt.

"Hi…are you Bull's mother…or one of his wives?"

Leo face-palmed, Bull narrowed his eyes at Newt, but the woman just continued to smile. "I'm Bull's mother."

"Nice to meet you. I love your jumper."

"I made it myself."

Newt widened his eyes. "What kind of wool?—"

Leo cleared his throat loudly. Bull joined in too.

"Should we go sit on the bench?" Bull asked. "Leave you two alone?"

"Yes, dear," his mother replied before saying to Newt, "It's alpaca wool."

Bull managed to steer his mother's attention back to himself.

"Mickey used to say I'm an old people magnet."

"Does that mean I'm going to have to fight them off when I get out of here?" Leo smirked.

"Maybe." Newt rubbed his cheek. "They like to pinch me."

"Pinch you?"

He nodded. "I don't know what that's about."

"I'll have to try it," Leo said. Reaching across the table, he pinched Newt's cheek, then shook it until there was a horrible suction sound and Newt blushed.

"Oh, I get it now."

"What?"

Leo pinched Newt's opposite cheek. "Yep. Look how cute you are."

Newt shoved him away.

Leo's smile slowly faded. "That was an intense hug you gave me when you came in…"

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Is everything okay?"

Newt nodded.

Leo tilted his head. "Newt…"

He took a deep breath and told him about the latest knock on his bedroom door. Newt had started back at the bakery and even had his telescope out a few times, but he still found peace in lying in bed with his door open and a pillow shoved at his black.

Jude tapped on the door, and Newt did a double take, sitting up fast at the outfit sparkling on his brother. He had on a pair of tight black trousers, and a black shirt with more buttons unfastened than fastened. Both were covered in shimmering rhinestones. His eyes looked darker, lined with black, and Newt thought he saw grey eyeshadow when he blinked, and yes—Newt gaped. He had something on his lips; they looked redder than normal.

"And I thought you were into cows…"

Jude frowned. "What?"

"Nothing."

"It's not too much, is it?" Jude asked, touching the perfectly curled cowlick in his hair.

"No, I just wasn't expecting you. Stone, Robin and Mickey are out."

"I know, or I wouldn't have come." He gestured to himself. "Do you think I would've turned up here looking like this if either Stone or Mickey were in?"

"Probably not." Newt bit his lip. "Why are you here?"

Jude fidgeted. "Do you want to watch us dance?"

Newt blinked. Jude had only mentioned he and Hope danced once, and it had been fleeting, a passing comment when Newt had excitedly told him about the ballroom dancers on The Star when he'd been inside.

"Is that… Is that a no?" Jude whispered.

"It's a yes," Newt said, springing up from his bed. The room tilted, and a head rush fizzled through his brain. He groaned until it faded. "Do I look okay?"

Compared to Jude, he looked like he'd just woken up…because he had.

Jude hummed. "You'll do." He smiled. "Come on, Hope will set Nero on me if I'm late."

Jude told him on the way it was a small performance. Newt grew suspicious when they drove into central London and parked in a multistorey next to the Royal Dance Hall.

"Here," Jude said, handing Newt a ticket. "You're in the stalls. K 55. Next to Luck."

"Luck," Newt said softly.

Jude either ignored him or didn't hear. "Shit." He checked the time. "Are you going to be all right going through the front?"

Newt narrowed his eyes. "I think I can manage walking through a door."

"You sure? You almost fell over getting out of bed."

"I'll see you inside," Newt said, tugging the car handle.

"If I trip over, or make an idiot out of myself, don't tell the others."

Newt rolled his eyes. "Like I would."

"You do realise Mickey is still doing the rounds of social media, right?"

"I won't record you falling onto your face and make you go viral."

Jude exhaled a long breath. "That is all I ask."

Robin had quickly become part of the family. Aaron, Newt had seen dozens of times while he was inside, and even more since he'd been out. He was well on his way to becoming family too and, in Newt's eyes, deserved a medal for putting up with Mickey.

Luck Milligan lingered on the outskirts of their family bubble. When Newt had seen him, he found himself intimidated by the menace of him. The white hair, the skunk-striped eyebrows, his reputation as The Raven and owner of the nightclub Diablo.

Approaching his seat, Newt caught sight of him. The swept-back hair, the eyebrows, the flexing jaw and the manic quality to his stare were all the same. He still had menace, but Newt wasn't intimidated.

"Hi."

Luck stood up and offered his hand. "Newt. I'm glad you're here."

"Really?"

"This isn't my scene." Luck smirked. He glanced at the row behind him, and Newt looked at all the well-dressed men and women in their finery. Newt wore his Triton knitted jumper, and Luck wore a white tight vest, and they stood out in the hall full of suits and long dresses sweeping the ground.

"I'm glad you're better."

Luck frowned. "Better?"

"The explosion."

"Oh." Luck scratched the back of his head. "That was a while ago now."

Which was true, they were weeks away from the second anniversary of the roller rink blast, but Newt scarcely saw Luck, and it seemed like an appropriate thing to say.

"You hurt him," he blurted before he could stop himself. Then he clarified. "You hurt Jude."

Newt didn't know the details of the fallout, only knew Mickey felt partly responsible, and Jude had stress-cooked his way through Christmas.

"I know I did." Luck looked away. "I shouldn't have kept things from him, and I won't again."

Newt nodded, thinking the conversation was done, but Luck turned to him.

"You know, when the roof came down, I was trapped. I didn't think I was going to make it out, and all I could think about was that last conversation I had with him. How hurt he looked. How I'd done that, and I wasn't going to get the chance to put it right. It was the worst kind of torture, far worse than burns, and the cuts, and the smoke clogging my lungs."

"You put it right." Newt bit his lip. "Stone told me there's even a video of your grovelling, but I haven't seen it yet."

Luck snorted. "I don't look my best."

"Hadn't you just woken up from a coma?"

"Yes, but I was high as a kite on morphine, and apparently it makes me tear up, which was news to me."

"Luck Milligan crying over my brother."

"And not for the first time." The lights faded until there were only spotlights left on the stage. "This isn't my scene," Luck repeated. "But I love watching him dance." He stroked his knuckles. "They are the two most important people in my world, and I won't waste a minute, not one minute, because none of us know how many we've got. Not really. I sure as shit don't want to spend my last minutes thinking about how I hurt him, not when I could be thinking about moments like this."

A hush fell over the hall. Newt settled into his seat, and mostly zoned out the other dancers until it was time for Hope and Jude to take to the stage, and it was surprising yet oh so obvious that they would be beautiful. Another contradicting set of emotions, but absent the headache.

Newt smiled.

"They…were really good," Newt told Leo. "I don't know anything technical about dancing, and I'm obviously biased, but they were the best dancers by miles, and Luck…he's intense. The way he was watching them dance, not blinking, with watering eyes, clutching the seat." Newt shook his head. "I've never seen anyone look at Jude like that before, and I don't think Jude even notices. Afterwards, Luck had to physically show him how entranced he was with grabby hands and firm kisses. Hope led me away before I could be scarred for life, but it still surprises Jude that Luck feels like that towards him."

"It's good that he's happy."

"Is it?" Newt frowned. "I seem to remember you hating on him when he first got here."

"He arrested me."

"His partner arrested you." Newt pursed his lips. "And you did steal a load of diamonds."

"Not my greatest idea, but I tend to do something stupid when life gets to me. Like taking on The Raven in a boxing match knowing it could kill me."

"Robbing a jewellery store, locking your keys in the car, then sitting in a café with your loot on the table."

"And considering leaving E-wing." Leo bit his lip. "Considering not coming back to you."

"That was the stupidest one."

"It was. By far."

Newt looked away. "Are you sure?"

"About what?"

"Me."

Leo tilted his head. "I don't understand."

"We established on day four that I was weird."

"Your words, not mine. I seem to remember saying you stank, and that's because you did."

Newt narrowed his eyes.

"We both did," Leo amended with a chuckle.

"When you get out of here…" Newt swallowed. "You are sure you want to…that you want there to be an us, us and no one else. That I'm enough."

Leo blinked. "You're Newton Briggs. You're exactly who you're supposed to be?—"

"But—"

"And you're everything I want. I don't want anything else with anyone else, understand?"

"I know, but it wouldn't hurt if you told me, you know…at least once a day."

"I only want you, Newt. I love you, as you are. Weird. Stinky. Dribbling?—"

"I do not dribble."

"You do, Newt, but that's okay, everyone does it, and I love you regardless."

"I love you too, ear hairs and all," Newt said, then he added more seriously, "And I don't want to waste a minute either. And it doesn't matter to me how few we might get; I want them all. As many as I can have."

"I hate that in all probability you'll have all of mine, but I might not get even half of yours. I hate that I'll leave you like that. With memories of minutes. You deserve more than that, more than m?—"

"Don't." Newt clutched Leo's wrist. "Don't pull away or let an ugly thought plant a seed. Besides, how can you be so sure you won't get all of mine too?"

"Twenty-five," Leo reminded him. "That's the life expectancy for someone with my condition."

Newt bit his lip, pulling his hand from Leo's. Leo startled, trying to snatch it back, but Newt pushed back into his chair, lifting his hips so he could reach into his pocket.

"I looked," Newy whispered. "For others with the same condition as you, and…I found a support group."

"A support group?"

Newt nodded, revealing the piece of paper from his pocket. "There are more people than you think living well beyond thirty. This"—he handed the address over—"is Jace's address."

"Jace?"

"He's fifty-five, Leo. He has a wife, and two dachshunds called Daisy and Delia. I told him about you, and he wants you to write to him."

"To say what?"

"Whatever you can't say to me. Whatever people without your condition won't understand. The group… He set it up. It's to help. He wants to help, and he does, and he will. If you want him to."

Leo frowned down at the address.

"If I've overstepped?—"

"No, Newt, you haven't." He folded the piece of paper. "I'll write to him…if…"

"If?"

"You do something for me."

Leo glanced around.

"O…kay."

"Can you…" Leo leaned over the table. He lowered his voice. "Send me some photographs?"

Newt frowned. "You want me to send you some photographs?"

Bull's mother tutted. "Fancy asking him that. He is such a sweet thing."

"Nah, ma." Bull waved his hand. "He isn't. But Leo didn't mean those kinds of photographs. You see, Newt here, Newt's ace."

"He sure is," she said, beaming at him. "He's ace alright."

"No, Ma. Asexual."

Leo closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath.

"What kind of photographs?" Newt asked.

"Preferably you," Leo replied through gritted teeth. "But you can take a picture of your cat's arsehole if you want to."

Bull's mother gasped. "What is wrong with you?"

"Keep out of it, Ma. I'll be first to admit I'm no expert, but it's not our business."

"I have no photographs on the wall," Leo said softly, ignoring Bull. "I'd kinda like some, but if it's too weird or you're not comfortable with it, please forget I said anything."

"No," Newt blurted. "I've never thought to send you any. What kind of pose were you thinking?"

Leo snorted. "Pose?"

"Yeah…what do you want me to be doing in the photo?"

"Do you have a portfolio?"

"No." Newt glanced at Bull, but he was no longer eavesdropping. "Do most people?"

Leo laughed. "I just want a picture of you, looking like you, preferably with your eyebrows intact."

Newt smiled. "I'll see what I can do."