“Of course you are, dear.”
“But you…you get takeaway or meal deals every single day.”
“It’s convenient,” Jackson replied, shooting him a look of utter betrayal as his mother tutted disapprovingly.
Elliot was going to make Jackson cook when they got back home. For his part, he didn't know how to make anything other than scrambled eggs or basic chicken and veg—a remnant from his relatively privileged upbringing that he wasn’t currently sure had given him quite as many advantages as it was meant to have done. He sipped his tea in silence, watching Jackson and hismum move around the kitchen in a well-practised dance. Noah’s laughter filtered in from the front room, and he felt content. This was family as he'd never seen it before.
A landline rang, and Elliot was momentarily charmed to see that they still had one. The room stilled in anticipation as Jackson’s mum spoke into the handset.
“Thank you,” she said as she finished the call and turned to them. “They’ll allow visitors from tomorrow,” she announced before whispering to herself, “We can see him.”
Smiles erupted on the faces of every one of them as the news registered. Beth leapt on her mum, a wide grin on her face.
Jackson wrapped Elliot in a hug, burying his face in Elliot’s shoulder as he sobbed. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m happy, I swear.”
Elliot traced slow circles on his back as he let it all out.
When the group eventually made it to the table for supper, it was as though something had lifted. Conversation flowed about who would get to visit their father first, and laughter came easily as they recounted his exploits and argued over what to take him to give him a break from the drab hospital menu. Elliot listened to it all with his knee pressed against Jackson’s and his heart full.
That night, snuggled in Jackson’s bed, Elliot and Jackson continued the conversation in whispers. Elliot eked out a promise from Jackson to cook for him again in London.
“That was amazing, what you did today, you know?” Jackson said softly.
“I just told them the truth.”
Jackson kissed him, pulling him into his arms. “Thank you.”
“It wasn’t just for you.”
“I know.”
Elliot kissed him this time, his tongue pushing into Jackson’s mouth. He chased his lips as Jackson pulled back, feeling the absence of them far too keenly.
“So,” Jackson said, pulling away. “I want to talk.”
“Yeah, we should…talk.” Elliot sighed.
“I should have told you what was happening,” Jackson started slowly. “When Bethy rang, I panicked. I was on the train before I even messaged Anders.”
“You don’t have to apologise for that, Jackson. I just wish I hadn’t had to find out you’d gone from Anders.”
“When’s he expecting you back?”
Elliot shrugged. “I don’t think he’s expecting me at all.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” Jackson asked, genuine confusion in his voice.
“He sort of told me to come here, I think.” Elliot looked away.
“Oh, were you not going to if he hadn’t?” Jackson asked. There was something strained in his voice.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to,” Elliot replied. “I thought I might make it harder with the hiding and the secrets.”
Jackson snorted. “You mean the secret you kept all of ten seconds before blurting it out to my whole family?”
“I was pressured by Noah.”
“He’s three.”
