Page 76 of Men in Shorts

“Unh,” was all Robert could manage, which seemed to satisfy Freddie Mercury. The lad’s real name didn’t matter. All that mattered was thatthiswas the person who’d made Robert want to get blootered.

He shut his eye to end their conversation, and Freddie quietly saw himself out.

* * *

When Liam heardhis front door close, he slid out of bed and pulled on a pair of flannel sleep trousers.

“Morning, Rabbie!” he called as he bounced into the living room, his head remarkably clear, considering how much he’d drunk at his Dead Celebrity party. “Happy Day of the Dead again!” He stopped when he saw his best mate’s face. “Och, you look well rough.”

Robert groaned. “Tongue feels like I licked a clothesdryer lint trap. Tastes like it too.”

“Did you smoke those cigarettes that were meant to be props for your Marlboro Man costume?”

“Of course not. I’d never break our pact.”

Liam believed him. Robert was faithful and honest, which made him the perfect friend and smoking-cessation partner.

“A nice cuppa will sort that hangover mouth. I’ll make it triple strength.” He waltzed into the kitchen, giddy with anticipation. “Also, I’ve a prezzie for you!”

Robert gave no reply. He’d been acting weird lately. Liam had hoped he’d meet a lass at last night’s party, one who could mend his broken heart, or at least make him forget his ex-girlfriend for an hour or two. He’d looked alluring enough in his cowboy hat and red denim shirt.

Liam put the kettle on, then scanned the worktop and tiny table to see if the Freddie Mercury lad had left a phone number or aThanks for a good time!note.

Nothing.

Liam shrugged. Freddie didn’t matter. No one had mattered to him in a long time. Apart from his family. And teammates. And coworkers. And some of his customers at the pub.

And Robert. Always Robert.EspeciallyRobert, despite the recent mysterious awkwardness between them.

Liam swept the crumbs out of one of the party’s big plastic crisps bowls and put it in the sink. As it filled with water, he pulled the carrier bag from the cupboard where he’d hidden it, behind the dog-eared cookbooks with titles likeCheap and Easy NomsandFeed Your Face for a Fiver.

Heart tripping with glee, Liam reached into the bag and took out the pair of rubber ducks, one pink and one yellow. “Yaaaaasss,” he whispered to himself.

He set the ducks in the water. Instantly the wee LEDs inside them began to blink—first blue, then red, then cycling through every color in the rainbow. Robert would absolutely die when he saw these glorious little guys.

Unless…unless he’d forgotten how much he’d loved these as a lad. What if he thought Liam a complete bampot? What if these wee duckies didn’t fix them?

* * *

Robert pulledthe tattered tartan blanket up over his face. The only present he wanted from Liam at the minute was…fucking hell…Liam himself. But he couldn’t say that. He barely dared think it.

Liam appeared with a pair of mugs, still wearing his orange-and-black-striped shirt from an early Robin Williams sitcom. The rainbow braces were gone, at least. Robert tried not to remember Freddie tugging on them to bring Liam into a tongue-tangling kiss while they’d danced to “Blank Space,” and tried even harder not to imagine himself in Freddie’s shoes, filling that blank space in Liam’s arms.

“This is not the gift. This is just tea.” Liam set the mugs on the coffee table, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Robert sat up slowly, bunching the blanket over his crotch to hide his inconvenient stauner. Waking up hard was nothing unusual, but feeling self-conscious about it around Liam was downright bizarre.

He picked up one of the mugs, a white one shoutingTEXT GOES HEREin stark black block letters.

“Close your eyes,” Liam called out from the kitchen.

Robert obeyed. He hadn’t a Scooby what this present could be.

Liam set something heavy on the coffee table, something that made the sound of…lapping water? “Okay, open your eyes.”

Robert did, and stared at the wonder before him. The rubber ducks blinked in sync, as though caught up in the same rhythm of a song only they could hear.

He looked at Liam, feeling his own face go soft. “You bought these last week at the Barras, when we were there with Fergus and John. You said you were buying them for Molly and Dylan.”

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