Page 109 of Pansies

“Just…kiss me, will you?”

Alfie settled gingerly over Fen, braced on his elbows so he didn’t crush him (or the car). They kissed for a long time, sticky and sore and sweet, the night air nibbling playfully at Alfie’s exposed arse. Afterwards, and once they were dressed again, they lay on the bonnet together, Fen’s head tucked against Alfie’s shoulder, his bent knee resting on top of Alfie’s legs.

“You didn’t guess?” he asked.

“Well, you said before that you sort of fancied me like. But you didn’t say…” Alfie swallowed. He’d always been taught to be suspicious of anything that smacked of unmanly sentiment. “But I didn’t know you liked me.”

“I didn’tlikeyou. I loved you. Or had a crush on you, I guess.”

Alfie’s heart was in free fall. And he couldn’t tell if it was joy or terror. “Uhm.”

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

“Nooo…”

“Don’t panic, this isn’t a proposal. I just wanted to say that…I get it now. I kept wondering if I was some kind of masochist, but it wasn’t that. It wasthis. I think I always saw this.”

“Saw what?”

“You. The boy who rescued butterflies. Unless”—Fen slanted a look at him—“you don’t remember that, either?”

Of course Alfie remembered. He’d made himself look like a right nancy. And his dad had been furious. It was kind of expectedyou’d get suspended from school occasionally, for fighting, or cheeking a teacher, or playing the wag. But for a butterfly? It’d been beautiful though. This red miracle in a grey place. “It was probably a dare or summin.”

“Oh.”

Except now Fen sounded disappointed. Which was worse than anything.

“I just felt bad for it, alreet?” He sighed. “Don’t think I’ve been brave since.”

Fen wriggled a hand into Alfie’s. “This is brave.”

“Why though?” Alfie shifted so he could see Fen’s face—all pointy and Fen-like and pretty and perfect. “I don’t want to be brave. I just want to be happy.”

Fen squeezed. “Then let’s do that.”

He made everything sound so easy. “I wish I could wrap my head round it.”

“Wrap your head round what?”

“I dunno. There’s all this stuff I still sort of believe about…stuff. And I don’t know how to stop.”

“Oh Alfie, petal.”

Alfie hadn’t been calledpetalin years. It reminded him not of his mam exactly, but the warm feeling you gotafteryou’d fallen over, and you’d been fussed over and cared for, and you realised that you weren’t really that hurt after all. He blinked, feeling sniffy and prickly.

Fen brought their entwined hands to his mouth—kissed his way across the joints of Alfie’s fingers. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t be the sort of man you want to be. The sort of man you are.”

Alfie clung a little to Fen’s fingers, feeling pathetic, but not quite able to let go. And far too aware he’d cried his eyes out earlier in the evening. “I dunno what kind of man I am anymore.”

“I do,” said Fen fiercely. “You’re kind and loving and generous and protective and bossy and sexy as hell. You’re going to make someone an amazing husband someday.”

“Sure you aren’t proposing?”

Fen laughed.

---