Me and Charlie reach for our forks at the same time, but Curtis says, ‘Wait. Since we’re all together for a big family meal, I think I should say grace.’
Charlie makes a muffled sound behind his hands.
I put my fork down obediently. I had no idea Curtis was religious.
Curtis knots his fingers together and bows his head to pray, and I follow suit.
‘For what we are about to receive, please make us truly grateful,’ Curtis says solemnly. ‘Please continue to watch over us, guide us, and keep us safe in your light, Hail Holy Queen, Madonna. Amen.’
‘Amen,’ I say seriously.
Charlie snorts. ‘Dude, he’s joking!’ he cries, tapping my elbow. ‘He’s not referring totheMadonna, he’s referring toMadonna. As in the singer.’
‘Oh,’ I say, still clasping my hands like a prayer. Idiot.
All four of them lose it laughing.
‘I don’t believe in organised religion,’ Curtis says, wiping his eyes. ‘But I do believe in Madonna Ciccone.’
We tuck into the pasta. Ahmed’s sauce is delicious. After training, my body was craving red meat.
While we eat, Curtis goes on an extremely detailed tangent about how much he loves Madonna – his favourite singer. He tells us about collecting her albums and singles on vinyl and cassette in the eighties, and seeing her perform live on the Blond Ambition tour in 1990.
‘You boys wouldn’t understand what it meant at the time, to have her speak up for us, about AIDS,’ he says. ‘It wasn’t fashionable to be an ally then. She did it anyway, cos she felt it was right, not because it was popular. She was a maverick.’
‘Yes, but then she didErotica, soooo …’ Ahmed says, shadily, but it’s tongue-in-cheek, clearly a longstanding jokey feud for the couple.
Curtis’ eyes are unexpectedly teary – with real emotion this time. ‘Madonna would open this bar, like I did,’ he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. ‘If there was resistance, she would say, “Fuck it”. Right? It doesn’t matter if gay boys are in fashion or out of fashion. We always need our space.’
We all go silent. I’d never seen Curtis angry until he shouted at Xander in the bar, and I’ve never seen him vulnerable until now. It’s unsettling to see the alpha stumble and question his steps. I had no idea Xander’s attack had rattled him so much. Guess it would hurt to be branded queerphobic when you’ve got as strong a history as Curtis does.
‘We need some background music,’ Ahmed says, like he wants to distract the rest of us from dwelling on Curtis’ vulnerability. He pats Curtis’ forearm. ‘I’ll put onRay of Light.’
Ahmed bustles into the kitchen and turns on the speaker until the first ethereal notes of ‘Drowned World/Substitute forLove’ start vibrating out. He returns to the table and plonks a blue china bowl in the middle of the table. ‘I forgot: I steamed some veggies for you boys,’ he says. ‘Between Rex’s rum and Charlie’s Monster and Zeke’s Snickers bars, you’ve all got the worst nutrition I’ve ever seen. Least I can do is get some vitamins and minerals into you.’
Charlie lifts the lid on the bowl. ‘Ew. Broccolus. I hate broccolus.’
Ahmed’s eyes flash. ‘For the last time, Charlie, the singular of broccoli is not broccolus,’ he hisses. ‘Stop saying broccolus! It’s soannoying.’
Charlie stabs a broccoli with his fork, looks Ahmed right in the eye and says, ‘Fucking. Broccolus.’
Rex grabs a floret of broccoli with his fingers, shoves it into his mouth whole, chews once, swallows, and burps like Barney fromThe Simpsons.
‘This is actually very wholesome,’ I observe, carefully picking some broccoli out of the bowl with my fork.
‘The veggies?’ Charlie asks.
‘No, this whole thing, this meal,’ I explain. ‘Look at us. It’s like two dads having a nice family dinner with their three sons.’
Charlie smirks. ‘I saw that porno once.’
‘Charlie, must you always pornify everything!’ Ahmed scolds.
‘It was calledSon Swap,’ Charlie says. ‘It had Dirk Caber in it.’
‘Dirk Caber’s fucken hot,’ Rex contributes.
‘I met Dirk Caber once, at Folsom,’ Curtis brags. ‘I was in an orgy with him.’
