Page 105 of Pansies

“It’s blummin’ awful,” he said.

Fen’s mouth twitched a little, like he was trying really hard not to smile. “Well, you probably have the crying equivalent of blue balls. Things are always more intense when you suppress them.”

“Don’t want to make a habit of it.”

“I’m not saying you should. Cry when you need to, that’s all.”

Alfie prickled a bit at that. “I’m not some bleedy-heart—”

“Alfie, seriously. You need to stop this, for your own sake as much as mine. I don’t want to hear another fucking thing about how you’re not this or not that. Why not spend the time figuring out who you are, instead?”

“That’s the problem, mate.” Alfie wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ve no fucking clue.”

Fen gazed at him, pale and solemn, eyes cutting deep. “I thought I knew, before tonight.”

“I…I really fucked up. All that shit I said to you.”

“Some part of you believes it, though.”

He burrowed into Fen, fully expecting to be pushed away. But he wasn’t. “I just… I guess… I know you’re not straight, I do get that. Sort of. But I don’t know why you’d be with a man like. If you could be with a woman.”

“Because,” Fen said gently, “for me, it’s not about gender. It’s about the person. And I happened to meet a man I really liked. Someone strong and kind and sexy and bossy. And so I wanted to be with him.”

“All those past tenses are really freaking me out.”

“Yes, well, he was a complete dick to me tonight.”

“He’s… I’m really sorry.”

Fen sighed. “I know you are. But I meant what I said. I’ve been queer all my life. You and your friends didn’t give muchchoice about that. And I can’t deal—I won’t deal—with someone who can’t accept me. Or accept himself.”

“I’m trying.” Alfie’s eyes had apparently decided they wanted to cry again. “I’m trying really hard. P-please don’t give up on me.”

“I suppose it would be pretty unfair,” Fen conceded, after a horrifyingly long pause. “Considering all the times you haven’t given up on me.”

Alfie uncurled just enough that he could meet Fen’s gaze straight on. “I’ll never give up on you, Fen. Never.”

“You know something, Alfie Bell? It scares me witless…but I think I believe you.”

They rolled apart, Alfie realising he’d got a crick in his neck, and Fen shaking his arm like maybe he had pins and needles in it. It was weirdly companionable to lie there on Fen’s hideous, brown-patterned carpet, side by side, staring at the cracks in his ceiling and feeling almost okay.

“How’s your nose?” asked Fen. “It looks horrible. Um, no offence.”

Alfie touched it gingerly. And winced. “It’s probably okay? Just needs cleaning up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to put frozen peas on it?”

“I dunno. Am I?”

“For the swelling or something?”

“Do you have frozen peas?”

“Let me check.” Fen darted into the kitchen and came back with something pinkish clasped in his hand. “I found this frozen chicken breast. God knows how long it’s been in there. Will it do?”

The idea of holding a fossilised dead bird against his face didn’t really appeal to Alfie, but Fen was looking all wide-eyed and hopeful and adorable. “I guess the important thing is that it’s cold. I’m sure it doesn’t matter what it is.”

“Okay, good.”

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