Theo leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He doesn’t look at me straight away.
“Alright,” he says calmly. “Jokes aside.”
Jasper sobers too, stretching out, one arm along the back of the sofa. “Yeah. We’re done taking the piss. Mostly.”
I swallow. My throat feels tighter than it should.
Theo finally looks at me. “How are you actually doing?”
I shrug, instinctive. Automatic. “I’m fine.”
Both of them snort at the same time.
“Try again,” Jasper says. Not unkindly. Just factual.
I blow out a breath and rub a hand over my face. “It’s… frustrating.”
“That’s the polite version,” Theo says.
“Yeah,” I admit. “It’s the version I tell myself so I don’t spiral.”
Jasper nods slowly. “Because the impolite version probably lives at three in the morning.”
That lands harder than I expect.
“It does,” I say quietly. “It messes with your head. Not just the sex bit. The… identity bit.”
Theo tilts his head. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve always known who I was,” I say. “Confident. Easy. The bloke who didn’t overthink. Who didn’t have to worry about whether his body would cooperate.” I laugh, short and humourless. “Turns out that was doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”
Jasper watches me closely. “So it’s not just about losing sex.”
“No,” I say. “It’s about losing certainty. About suddenly feeling… unreliable. Like a car you don’t trust to start in the morning.”
Theo nods. “That’s a horrible feeling.”
“And it’s embarrassing,” I add. “Because I know it’s not the end of the world. I know no one’s died. But it still feels like I’ve lost something that made me… me.”
Jasper shifts, then says simply, “Mate. That doesn’t make you less of a man.”
I scoff. “Easy to say when your dick’s behaving.”
Theo cuts in gently. “Masculinity isn’t a single body part, Geoff.”
“Feels like it is sometimes,” I mutter.
Theo shrugs. “That’s because we were taught it was. Doesn’t make it true.”
There’s another pause. Warmer this time.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jasper adds. “And you’re not broken. You’re dealing with your shit instead of pretending it’s fine.”
Theo nods. “That’s not weakness. That’s effort.”
I sit back, chest tight, eyes stinging just enough to be annoying.
“Still hate it,” I say.
