Here we go again.but this time with feelings

I’d done some impulsive things in my life, mostly things my dad had disapproved of. This time, though? He packed me a sandwich and some fruit, stashed water bottles on the back seat and made sure my charger was working. He’d even waved me off with a smile.

FFS, Dad.

It was the only way to fix this, and yes…perhaps I should have told Gray I was coming, but then he’d fret about it and get all antsy, and I didn’t want that. I was just going to go up and grab him. Stash him in my car and tell him to go to sleep so I could drive in peace and quiet.

I enjoyed driving, and the motorway was surprisingly fun, my brain cooperating nicely for once. I stayed in my lane, used my indicators correctly and managed to keep out of the way of the lorries. I stopped at the big services and treated myself to a nice coffee. Sat on a bench and watched all the cars. People going places. Dad and I always did that on our holidays. Stopped at the services. Happy memories.

I drove through Birmingham, which was quite thrilling. London was massive, but this was a completely different city, while Manchester was all fields, the motorway taking me nowhere near the actual place. Then I had to turn off into the countryside, with narrow roads and tractors. I’d never actually seen one in action, so I pulled over for a while and watched a huge one plough a field, chewing my paper cup, pretending I still had coffee in it. It was summertime and the air was warm—air that smelled very different from the London fumes I was used to. I liked it. I really did.

But I wasn’t here for my health, and I had an evening shift tomorrow.

Work. Perhaps I should use some of my leave days. I never usually did, but maybe I should actually take some time off. See what life could be like with…

I poked the satnav back to life. He’d done as I’d told him. Dropped me his location, address and all, and the small town his parents lived in was quaint and quiet. Too quiet. Roads with old-fashioned pebble-dashed bungalows, grey stone cottages, until I turned onto an estate that looked surprisingly familiar.

Like home. The same structures. Boarded-up shop fronts. Kids on bikes.

It made my heart hurt, and it took me a while to figure out why.

Pulling up onto the drive at the address he’d given me, I thought it would feel strange. Instead, I felt right at home. And that’s when it hit me. Like a tonne of bricks on my head.

Gray was just like me. He’d grown up here, and…he was just who he was. Like I was who I was. We were…

I had to actually wipe my eyes. We were exactly the same. Just he’d made different choices. Become someone else.

And I’d become me.

I got out of the car and wiped my now-sweaty hands down the front of my hoodie. Checked myself carefully using the windscreen as a mirror.

“Can I help you?”

I smiled. It was a little bit like looking at Gray. Older. Less hair. Oh yeah, I was going to tease Gray about going bald because this was obviously his dad, and genetics were a thing. Just like my dad having more hair than me.

I combed my fingers through my mop. Tried to look smart. Non-threatening.

“Hello.”

Good start, Reubs.

“Hi. I’m Reuben Schiller, a friend of Gray’s. He’s apparently staying with you? Mr Smith, is it?”

Dodgy. Any decent Londoner would have shut the door on me by now and probably called the police.

“Reuben?” he said, his face cracking into a smile. “You’re Reuben?”

“Yes.” I offered him my hand, which he shook enthusiastically.

“George. George Smith. It’s very nice to meet Graham’s boyfriend. He’s talked about you quite a bit, and we already feel like we know you. We’ve never actually met anyone he’s dated, so this is a first. His mum’ll have the baby photos out in a flash, Catherine? Catherine!”

He pushed me ahead of him into a small kitchen, shouting for his wife and in between showing me seedlings in pots and offering me a choice of tea—well, it was one brand, and one brand only, but with different strengths, and could I tell the difference between tea made for hard water and normal tea? What was the water like down in London? Apparently, Gray didn’t notice such essential snippets of information, and anyway, Mr and Mrs Smith had visited London just the once and found it too busy and dirty for their tastes. They much preferred to have a day out at the British seaside. Had I visited Whitehaven?

I hadn’t, but the seaside was something I could enthusiastically discuss, having had yearly breaks in a caravan on the south coast.

Just like that, we bonded, and suddenly Gray’s mum was beaming right in my face. This was not what I’d expected.

I had no idea what I’d actually expected.

“You’re a very handsome boy,” she said. “And you’re Graham’s boyfriend?”

I’d not even mentioned the B-word. Was I?

“Yes.” I smiled politely. I mean, not my job to burst their bubble. Especially when they both looked so weirdly thrilled to meet me.

“Cathy, bring the baby photos!” George enthused. “I’m making tea. Sit yourself down, Reuben.”

“Thank you,” I said weakly, hoping Gray would make an appearance soon, rescue me from all this. His mum left the room, to get the photos, I guessed. His dad pottered around, filling the kettle, clinking cups against sauces and paying no attention to me sat there like a plonker.

“Is Gray here?” I managed stutter out eventually when he set a plate of biscuits on the table, along with a teapot. A bloody teapot. Dad and I didn’t even own one.

“There’s a very precise art to making the perfect cup of tea,” George said, tapping his nose.

“My dad swears on a cup run under the hot tap, then a teabag and boiling water,” I shared. “Milk goes in last. Just a dash.”

“Exactly!” George said, nodding appreciatively. “Always preheat the pot. Two teabags. One spoonful of loose Earl Grey. Pop the tea cosy on and let it brew. We’ve got it down to a T now.”

He looked at me like he’d just shared a prized family recipe, handed down for generations.

“Don’t look so scared, lad. I’m glad you’ve made the trip to pick him up. He’s been a right mess without you. We’re much alike in that regard, our Graham and me. When my Cathy used to go away on those nursing conference trips and such, I didn’t know what to do with myself, even when he was little. I always like it better when we were together. I’m sure you know what it’s like.”

“I do,” I said without thinking. But…perhaps I did like it better when we were together.

“He was always a very anxious boy, our Graham. Then he had all this success, and it’s not done him any favours, we can see that. It’s nice he’s met someone to take care of him. Us men need that. Someone to lean on.”

I wasn’t sure about the leaning-on thing and didn’t get a chance to think about it because here was the most dishevelled Gray I’d ever laid eyes on. He obviously hadn’t washed his hair for a while and…gosh, he was a mess.

“Oof!” I said as he crushed himself against my chest and threw his arms around my neck.

“Mate, when did you last shower?”

“We’ve been telling him,” his mum said, appearing with a photo album. Seriously? “We’ve tried to get him in the bath for days, but he’s not in a good way.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, Mum,” he mumbled into my neck, but at least he was speaking. I reluctantly hugged him back. What the fuck, man?

“Son, go clean yourself up. I can smell you from here.” Thank heavens his dad was prepared to state the obvious, because yes. Bloody hell.

He untangled himself from my arms and skulked off like a small child.

“He’s not been himself,” his mother fretted, setting the photo album on the table and patting it fondly. “We’ve tried, haven’t we, George? I’ve got our doctor coming round in an hour. He needs to go back on something to get himself back on his feet. And I’ve had words with him about his PrEP—”

“Thank you, Catherine,” George butted in bluntly. “Tea, Reuben?”

“Yes…please.” This was all a bit much.

“He’s a good kid,” George said. “But he needs someone to keep an eye on him. Make sure he eats and drinks and sleeps at night.”

“Yes,” I said. “He’s good at looking after me too. He calms me.”

I had no idea where that had come from, but it was the truth. Just being here, in his…home, had calmed me.

“You work in a hotel, I hear? That must be very exciting. All the tourists and foreign people?”

“We get guests from all around the world, yes. It’s actually very interesting. Different customs, languages—you know, some cultures feel it’s extremely rude to tip. Others? They tip very generously. Of course, the tips never matter. It’s all about providing a service to people who are often out of their comfort zone.”

Where had all that come from?

Graham’s mum nodded. “Very much like nursing. Dealing with people who are often in a lot of pain and in an unfamiliar environment. Some are too scared to even try to describe the health issues they’re having. The job’s as much about putting them at ease, making them feel safe and comfortable, as it is about treating their condition.”

“You’re a nurse?” I asked, making conversation like a pro.

“Retired, but I still keep up. I volunteer at the hospital, just to keep my hand in. It’s nice. Makes me feel useful.”

“Also, it’s very social,” George added, placing his hand protectively on Gray’s mum’s arm. “She likes to talk.”

I smiled politely. I’d noticed that, but I was also worried about Gray. “Is he…all right?” I had to ask. The house had gone very quiet.

“He’s just very anxious,” his mum said.

“She means he’s lost the plot,” George said with a wink. I liked him. My dad would like him too.

His mum shook her head. “He just needs to look after himself better. There are mild medications he can take to curb some of his bad habits. Get himself out of his shell. It’s no good for him to be this lonely. I’m very pleased he’s got you, Reuben, and I know it’s a personal question, but I hope you’re both being responsible and careful.”

“It’s not like the two of them are going to get themselves pregnant and in trouble,” George muttered.

I laughed. Were we seriously going to have this conversation? But actually…

I was an adult. And I realised, it was time for me to act like one.

“I promise we’re being responsible,” I said, feeling like I was telling a million lies. “But I think Gray and I will have to step up and deal with a few things from now on.” I wasn’t sure what I meant by that.

“Good,” his mum said, taking a sip of tea. “Lovely brew, darling. Have a biscuit, Reuben.”

Fuck biscuits. I wanted Gray in my car and to be on the road heading home. Had he gone back to slobbing on the couch? I listened for a minute. No, there was movement, the sound of water sloshing.

“Look at these.” His mum thrust the photo album under my nose. “Graham was such a lovely baby, very sweet. Did you know he started walking at eleven months? Right on time.”

“He was a very, very quiet child,” his dad said as the photos moved on from a blonde toddler to a kid in school uniform. “Struggled a little at school, but look at him now. He’s done very well for himself. We’re very proud.”

“Very proud,” his mum echoed while I squirmed looking at photos of a child I vaguely recognised. Class photos. Trips to the beach. Birthday parties.

“My childhood wasn’t like this,” came out of my mouth. Nothing I could do about that now. “My mum…well, she struggled. The first time I saw a beach, I was fifteen, I think.”

“Never too late.” George nodded. “Same for me. My parents weren’t well off either. The first birthday cake I ever had was the one Catherine made for my twenty-fourth birthday.”

“Twenty-third,” Gray’s mum corrected him. “And it doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re all good. And you’ve got steady employment, Reuben, Graham told us, and you share a home with your father. That’s lovely to hear.”

Was it? Sounded a bit twatty to me. Like I’d not grown up. And here was my Gray.

MyGray?

Shit.

I reached out, stroked his cheek, mouthed, “You okay?”

He nodded.

He was certainly looking cleaner. Smelling fresher. Wearing a jumper that was far too small for him.

I’d said I wouldn’t melt, but I did. Because he was my Gray, and fuck everything. Truly.

“I have work tomorrow,” I said as he took a seat next to me. “Need to get back down south. You coming?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. It was such a relief to see him do that.

“Not until you’ve seen Dr Williams.”

“Yes, Mum.”

I got it. Despite all that crap about being an adult, I was still my dad’s son. If he told me what to do, I did it. Usually.

Two hours later, we finally set off, a hearty picnic stashed in the footwell of the car. A flask of tea.

I couldn’t remember if Dad and I had ever owned a flask, but Gray’s dad said we could bring this one back on our next visit.

Apparently, we were coming back for a visit.

“Dr Williams took my blood. He’s testing for everything,” Gray said from the passenger seat, where he was gently rubbing his arm. “He thinks I have vitamin deficiencies coming out of my ears. Told me I need to completely overhaul my diet. Proper meals. Red meat, leafy veg and plenty of water. Three times a day.”

“Okay?”

“Mum wants me back on PrEP but, you know, the only person I’m sleeping with is you.”

“And we’re not even having sex,” I blurted.

“We are,” he said gently. “And I promised Dr Williams, and my incredibly overbearing mother, that you’d get tested too.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I needed to find other words to say than okay. “Your Mum’s nice.”

“She is. She just worries about me.”

“That’s normal.”

We drove. Quietly watching the sun sink over the horizon.

“Why are you here, Reubs?” he asked. I could hear a small smile in his voice, and I appreciated the joke, the small bond we shared. I indicated, dropped my speed, pulled into a layby, the same one from where I’d watched the tractor earlier in the day. We had a long journey ahead, but I needed to do this. Set things right.

“Get out,” I said.

“What? You’re dumping me in a field on the A-road?”

“No.” I laughed, getting out and walking around the car to open his door.

“Get out,” I repeated, taking his hand, keeping hold as he unfolded himself and straightened up beside me.

I took a moment to watch him, take in his hair, now all flyaway and clean. His handsome face, devoid of all that stupid make-up The Dieter was known for. I couldn’t even see the Dieter part of him. Not anymore. He was just this messy bloke. A little pale.

My Gray.

“I’m here because at least one of us has to be an adult in this relationship,” I said very seriously, then I laughed. He did too. It felt good. So damn good.

“Okay?” he said.

“Yep. So we’re going to start over. From scratch. If we’re going to do this relationship thing, we need to do it right.”

“Sounds good,” he replied softly. “So this is a relationship now? We’re…together?”

“I’m not going to say it,” I admitted. “But I can’t help it. It’s just…you. I need you. That okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. I liked it so much when he smiled. “I’m not doing very well right now,” he admitted. Like I hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah, I realised that. So…” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to take a few days off work. Emergency leave or whatever. I haven’t asked yet, but I will tomorrow. Then I’ll move into your wanky house and I’ll look after you. I’m new to this so you have to promise you’ll look after me too. Is that okay too?”

“Deal,” he said. His arms snaked around my waist. “I like you too, by the way.”

“You love me. You told me already.”

“I do, don’t I?”

“Yeah. And we’re gonna have to take this as it comes. Small steps. See if we can make this work.”

“It’s already working,” he said, sounding more like himself. “You even came to rescue me, all the way up here. I mean, talk about being my Prince Charming.”

“This is no fairy tale, G.” I laughed. “And I prefer being a…Stormtrooper maybe?”

“Who am I then? Princess Leia?”

“Nah.” I laughed. I put my finger under his chin like I truly was some kind of superstar in a movie. The guy in that happy ending. The sunset behind us was mesmerising.

Then I leaned in and kissed him. Because I could. Because he was mine, and perhaps because in that moment, it was the right thing to do.