“Yeah? Did you?”
“Yup.” Jodi pictured his first disastrous dalliance with a bloke after he’d realized his bisexuality. “Ran off like a scalded cat. Was halfway down the garden with my pants round my ankles before he caught up with me.”
Rupert rumbled his deep, warming chuckle again. “Another cat metaphor? I’m sensing a theme.”
“I have a limited imagination.”
“I don’t believe that.”
It was on the tip of Jodi’s tongue to invite Rupert to find out, but Rupert leaned forward before he could speak and put his hand on Jodi’s leg, hesitantly at first, then his grip strengthened, and it was all Jodi could do not to moan.
He settled for sucking in a shaky breath. Bloody hell. What was it about this bloke? A touch, a brush of skin, a stare that went on just a beat too long; tiny gestures that lit Jodi on fire. He stared at Rupert’s hand and then covered it with his own, entwining his fingers with Rupert’s until their hands were clasped, bound together like lovers, rather than two souls who’d met less than an hour ago.
Rupert squeezed Jodi’s hand. Jodi squeezed back and tugged gently, coaxing Rupert closer until their faces were inches apart.
Rupert’s nerves were tangible. His beautiful, gold-flecked eyes had widened, and he swallowed thickly. But it was him who leaned in first. Him who ghosted his lips over Jodi’s. Him who tentatively pushed his tongue into Jodi’s mouth and kissed him as the room began to spin.
Jodi gasped and wrapped his arms around Rupert, clutching at the dark shirt he was wearing under his unzipped doorman’s jacket. The shirt came loose from Rupert’s waistband. Jodi pushed it up until his hands found the hard, unyielding flesh of Rupert’s abdomen. He dug his nails in. Rupert groaned and bit Jodi’s lip, so Jodi did it again and again, until he suddenly found himself on the floor.
“Ow! Jesus.”
Rupert lurched up like he’d been burned. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.” Jodi walked on his knees to where Rupert stood and accepted his proffered hands. Rupert hauled him up like he was made of feathers. “Let me guess. You had an epiphany, realised my dick is probably as big as yours and lost your shit?”
“Something like that?” Rupert winced. “I’m so sorry. I told you. I’m new at this.”
“It’s okay.” And it was. Who the hell was Jodi to judge a man flying blind in his sexuality? Accepting his own bisexuality had been a journey fraught with denial and false starts. It was only in the last year he’d truly grown into it, and it wasn’t so long ago he’d been toppling blokes off the end of the bed himself. He squeezed Rupert’s hands. “But tell me, have you ever—”
“Nope. Never put my hands on a fella ... like this, until tonight. Oh God, I’m so sorry. You must think I’m such a twat.”
Jodi shook his head slowly. “No, not at all. I’ll tell you exactly what I think,Rupert. I think you should calm the fuck down, go home, get some sleep, then come back tomorrow so I can teach you how to make this shit awesome.”
Two
August 26, 2014
Drip, beep, drip, beep, drip, beep.Rupert counted the drops of clear fluid as they passed through the pressure-measuring device in Jodi’s brain. That’s right, they were clear now. The blood had faded away one evening nearly two weeks ago. Rupert recalled his surge of elation like it was yesterday, remembered every minute of the twenty-four-hour vigil he’d mounted after, waiting on tenterhooks for the moment when Jodi would surely wake up. But he hadn’t woken up. Not then, and not now, a month and two days since that damn fucking speeding car had catapulted him across the streets of Tottenham.
Rupert tore his gaze from the drip and focussed on Jodi. He touched his cheek with the pad of his thumb and smoothed the scruffy beard that, despite the nurse’s diligent efforts, was now slightly longer than he’d ever seen on Jodi before. Rupert liked it. It would suit Jodi’s brown eyes, if Rupert was lucky enough to ever see them again.
Lucky. Ha.Rupert clenched his teeth and turned his attention to Jodi’s shattered arm. It had been operated on again in recent days. The surgeons had inserted metal rods to keep the original realignment of the bones in place, but they wouldn’t know if Jodi had retained full function until he woke up.
If he woke up.
Rupert took Jodi’s good hand and squeezed, trying to remember what life had been like before the cramped ICU bay had become their home. But it was so fucking hard. Most of Jodi’s outward wounds had healed, but the ominous shadow on his brain remained, dark and deadly, and the doctors reminded Rupert every day that even if Jodi did wake up, there was every chance he wouldn’t be the Jodi that Rupert had loved—still loved so much he could barely breathe.
But he’d run out of time to grieve today. It was midday, and he was due back at work in ten minutes. He closed his eyes, still clutching Jodi’s hand. The brigade had been patient with him so far, but with Jodi’s business not earning, someone had to pay the bills—
Jodi’s hand squeezed his. Rupert jumped a mile, his heart in his throat. His eyes flew open, and he stared down at Jodi’s hand, his own suddenly red hot.It moved.But had it? It didn’t seem any different.
Don’t be a dick. You haven’t got time for imaginary drama.Rupert counted to ten, praying he’d feel that brief pressure on his palm again, but nothing happened, because it was all in his damn fucking head.
Twat.He looked down at Jodi one last time. For a moment, he dared to dream Jodi really had returned the death grip he had on his hand, but their grim reality wouldn’t quit. Jodi remained slack and lifeless, and Rupert had to go to work.
* * *
January 26, 2010
