“It’s good to see you,” Kit said, pleased he didn’t have to lie.
“You too. I wasn’t sure you would show up.”
Kit almost admitted that he hadn’t decided if was coming until that very night, but he just grinned. “Wouldn’t miss a catch-up with you kids.”
Shaun shot him an unamused glare as they walked towards the table. “We’re not that much younger than you. Not enough to be called ‘kids’, anyway.”
Truth was, Kit felt ancient. He hadn’t aged a day since he was eighteen, but there were phantom aches in his bones and weariness in his body that multiplied as the years wore on.
“I like the hair, by the way,” Shaun said. “And not gonna lie—I’m glad to see those fake glasses gone. Didn’t mind the nose ring, though. It suited you.”
Kit gave a half-hearted laugh and tucked one of his blond curls behind his ear. He’d gone back to his natural colour. He sometimes forgot until he caught sight of it in the mirror, the blond making him jump when he wasn’t expecting it.
DJ got up and opened his arms. Kit found himself unwilling to refuse, so gave him a quick hug, too. When they broke apart, Rake held out a hand. Kit raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t do hugs,” Rake said.
“Didn’t think you did handshakes, either,” Kit said, grasping Rake’s hand.
“I shake the hands of those who deserve it,” Rake said, even as he let go as fast as possible. Clearly, it was still a work in progress.
“You deem me worthy?” Kit asked with a twist of his lips.
“You helped to save all of our lives. You’re the most worthy of anyone,” Rake said, his face serious.
Kit waved a dismissive hand. “It was years ago. No need to dredge up the past.”
“How have you been?” Shaun asked.
That was a question Kit wasn’t sure how to answer. So he did what he usually did, and deflected. “The real question is, how haven’t these two got sick of you yet?”
Shaun opened his mouth in faux-offence as he slid back onto the bench. It annoyed Kit that the three of them all sat on one side, making him even more like an outsider, but he let it slide when he noticed how much they were touching one another. The last thing he needed to deal with was someone beside him playing footsie with the others.
“We would never get bored with Shaun!” Rake protested.
“He’s kidding, babe,” DJ said. “But for real, where haveyou been staying? I assume north, given where we’re meeting tonight.”
“Here and there,” Kit said. It was the truth. He rarely stayed in places for longer than a few months at a time. He was making his way around the east coast of Scotland, town by town, village by village, taking short leases and leaving long before the locals would recognise his face. “You’re in Bristol now, right?”
“For a few years, yeah,” DJ said. “It’s close enough that we can occasionally see my family or our friends, pretending we’re back from Australia for a week or so.” DJ’s fingers twisted in his necklace. Missing his friends and family would still be fresh for him. Kit knew that even in a life that stretched beyond generations, that pang would never truly cease.
“And I told you before about my family,” Rake said. At Kit’s nod, he continued. “I actually reconnected with my sister. We speak on the phone, and we’ve had a few movie nights with her and her boyfriend. She’s hiding his existence from our parents because they wouldn’t approve, but she’s fine with that for now.”
Part of Kit resented Rake’s ability to do what he himself couldn’t, but he hoped he conveyed his sincerity when he replied. “Your shitty parents aside, Rake, sounds like you’ve managed to make it work for all of you.”
“For now,” Shaun said. “We’ll have to move elsewhere, eventually.” There was the edge of sadness in his voice, a note of guilt that told Kit how Shaun still blamed himself for what had happened.
“Moving’s not so bad,” Kit said. “You can easily compel landlords into renting to you for free.”
“Oh my god,” DJ said. “Why didn’t I think of that? We’re paying a ridiculous amount for our place.”
“Does it really count as renting if you’re not paying, though?” Shaun mused.
They ended up chatting through the pros and cons of different cities, focusing on the nightlife and kink culture. The trio were still in the lifestyle, perhaps even more so than they’d been before. Shaun’s collar was obvious, a thin leather choker that could just about pass for a fashion accessory to the uninformed observer. DJ had a less blatant one, but Kit saw him playing with the silver linked chain that was half-hidden under his shirt collar any time the conversation strayed to more serious subjects. None of them dwelled on such topics, however.
Shaun told Kit about how he, Rake and DJ had started a game app venture, shyly speaking about how he’d started writing plots for the games. DJ took over from him, proclaiming just how impressive Shaun’s stories were and how popular the apps had become. Although Kit wasn’t a big gamer, he was surprised to find he had already downloaded one of their games and sometimes played it to while away the hours.
Kit couldn’t help but be jealous of what the trio had in one another. He’d never had anyone like that. Lawrence had ensured it. His creator might no longer exist, but his legacy lived on as a stubborn stain on Kit’s soul.
