Page 13 of After the Rain
“I’m not entirely sure what you want from me, big brother. You just word vomited at me – something which history has shown us is absolutelynotyour usual style – and so I know this is important to you, but breaking down everything you just said, I think ‘you want him’ pretty much sums it up. So, what’s the problem?” I eye her incredulously.
“Are you joking? Literally everything I just said!” I shout, exasperated, my voice sounding at least two octaves higher than usual.
She just waves me off with a shrug, heading back over to Rain’s car and disappearing underthe bonnet again. I move to stand beside her so I can still hear what she’s saying. I tuck my cold hands into my coat pockets and wait for some actual wisdom. Pax follows me and leans against my legs. I take one hand back out of my pocket to stroke his head. At least he understands that my emotions are all over the place.
“Listen,” Wren says, “you said a lot, and I want you to know that I heard your concerns, and honestly, they’re not nothing, but they’re also not everything, and you can’t make assumptions about what he needs. Trust me, people have been making assumptions about me my entire life, and it sucks.” I balk at that.
“What? Wren…” She waves me off again.
“Not important. Well, not the time anyway. What I mean is, you can’t assume that all those things – the job, his ex, him staying with you – are problemsfor him. The only way to know for sure is to actually talk to him.” Almost immediately, the swoop of anxiety in my stomach makes me feel like I could throw up, and I have to swallow hard to prevent it. Pax presses his body closer to me, and the quiet comfort from my dog gives me something to focus on. I know Wren is watching me with a concerned look on her face, but I keep my eyes on Pax, watching his tan fur move between my fingers. “All I’m saying,” Wren continues, her voice a bit softer now, “is that I canrelate to someone who is used to having decisions madeforhim, and assumptions madeabouthim. Instead of making assumptions, talk to him. He might be feeling something as well.”
I finally raise my eyes from my dog and meet her gaze. I know she’s right, but the low-level anxious buzz that remains in my stomach, despite Pax’s comforting weight and my sister’s gentle hand that she’s now placed on my arm, I can’t help but feel that, even if I could summon the courage to talk to Rain about how I’m feeling, why would he ever wantme?
I shake off my thoughts and make a shamelessly obvious attempt to change the subject. “So, Rain is going to take over your job at DB.”
Wren’s head pops up like a meerkat from under the bonnet. “Seriously?” she asks with a huge grin spreading on her face. “Thank fuck for that! I was seriously stressing about how to tell you that I just can’t do it anymore. This is my final year of uni, and I need to focus. Thank the Goddess for Rain.” Her firm statement makes me smile until I hear her mutter, “For several reasons, apparently.” Choosing to ignore her not-so-subtle hints, I gloss over it, and we make a plan for her to come over tomorrow morning to meet Rain and show him her system – or at least the semblance of a system she inherited from me, Archer,andCole.
I kiss her chilly cheek, leaving Rain’s car with her, and head home.
Pulling into my driveway and seeing my house all lit up, with smoke trailing out of the chimney – Rain must have gotten cold and lit the log-burner – makes a sensation of warmth fill me up, from my toes to my ears. I sit in my Land Rover, staring at the scene for a few minutes, just taking it in. So, this is what it’s like to come home to a place where someone’s waiting for you? I’ve tried relationships before, but my anxiety always stood in the way. Too much trouble, too embarrassing, too inconvenient for them.
“It’s not like you even have anything to be anxious about!”Michael, my last boyfriend, told me as he packed his small backpack with his single pair of pants and toothbrush, that he never actually left here. I didn’t even bother trying to explain that anxiety doesn’t work like that. That mental health in general doesn’t work like that. You don’t have to have some traumatic history to struggle with feelings of overwhelming anxiety. I’m sure a psychologist would dig deep and maybe suggest any number of things that could have caused mine, not least of which would probably be the fear of growing up gay in a very small, ruralvillage, in a county that is not necessarily known for its cosmopolitan views. But then later, having younger twin brothers come along, who were also waving their own queer flags, I should have felt less alone. And I did, really. Not to mention that Nash, Chris, Poppy, and Sam would’ve kicked the arse of anyone who gave me shit at school. But still, Generalised Anxiety Disorder is what I, and so many others, live with every day.
I haven’t had the overwhelming panic once, since Rain arrived, and I’m not thinking too hard about that. Maybe it’s the fact that I have some company, or someone to look after, or just a distraction? I don’t really care. The fact of the matter is, I feel calm and settled around him, and that’s all I care about. Pricks like Michael, who think that struggling with mental health needs some dramatic, triggering reason, can get in the fucking bin. I know my anxiety will never be “cured”, per se, and I would never put that pressure on someone else, but in my heart, I know that for whatever reason, Rain’s a safe place for me. I just hope that I’m the same for him.
I climb out of the car, deciding that I want to be near him, like,now, and make my way up the drive and into the front door. The smell that hits me as soon as I open the door makes my mouth water. Savoury, rich scents of home-cooked food fill my nostrils, and I groan, just as Rain’s curlyhead peeks around the corner with a big smile on his face.
“You’re home!” His excitement to see me and the fact that he called my house ‘home’ stir that feeling of want deep in my belly again. “Dinner’s almost ready. Are you hungry?” I nod in the affirmative before replying.
“Starving! I can’t wait to try this brave new world of shepherd’s pie with lamb mince.” I smirk at him and see his eyes sparkle with mirth.
“And toast.”What?My head jerks up from where I was untying my boots to look at him quizzically.
“Toast?” I ask, utterly confused.
“Yeah. Shepherd’s pie, or, indeed, cottage pie for that matter, should always come with a piece of toast.” He grins again before stepping back behind the wall into the kitchen. My confusion holds me in place for a minute before I continue removing my boots and follow him.
“Toast?” I ask again. His eyes meet mine briefly before he goes back to dishing up what looks like a deliciously warm, cheesy-topped, comforting plate full of the meat and potato baked pie, with a rainbow of vegetables on the side. And yes, there is indeed a piece of toast resting on the side of the plate.
He looks down shyly before saying, “It’swhat my mum always did. I never realised it wasn’t a thing everybody did.” He looks at me again, a sad smile briefly shadowing his face, before he brightens again and adds, “Honestly, it’s the best. Try it?”
His questioning tone warms me, and I think I would try my own mum’s mysterious ‘rawhide and skurdy-whip’ if he served it to me. “I can’t wait.”
Nine
Rain
We sit down to eat in a companionable silence, broken only by occasional comments about my car and the fact that his sister, Wren, is planning to come over tomorrow to show me the ropes of my new job. Pax is curled up under my feet, presumably waiting for me to drop a sample of the food for him.
Watching Aidan eat should not be as appealing as it is. I’m almost in awe of the way he holds his knife and fork like an adult man and not like a child scooping food into his gob, the way Dan used to. The way his throat works as he swallows, the way his eyes meet mine every now and again, and the groans he makes when it tastes good. Jesus fucking Christ. I’m not sure he realises how sexy and suggestive those sounds are, but my dick certainly does.
If I stop and think too hard about the assaultDan inflicted upon me that last night –was it really only three days ago?Then, the fact that I’m even able to feel attraction and arousal towards another man should surely not be normal? I mean, I’m a gay guy in his twenties – I love sex. But after my body was so violently invaded and beaten, so much so that the bruises have yet to heal, and I’m still struggling with using the bathroom, surely, I should be completely turned off by the idea of sex. The last few years of sex in my life have been violent, punishing, and nothing to do with love or emotion. It’s been all about power, domination, and control.
And yet, with Aidan, my body craves his touch. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a glutton for punishment. I know that, physically, I’m nowhere near ready for anything to go anywhere near my arsehole any time soon. But the idea that, at some point, he might want to touch me in that way? Yeah, I don’t hate that idea. At. All. It just goes to show, I guess, that it’s not about the act itself, but the connection, and the person you do it with. And, after only a handful of days in his company, I know that Aidan would be gentle. Kind. Loving.
There I go, getting ahead of myself again. I still have no confirmation that Aidan is even gay, or bi, or even into men at all. I mean, except for the way he gripped my face, kissed my neck, andtold me I could look at his arse all I wanted.Oh god! Am I blushing?
I focus on my food and realise that I’ve served myself way too much. I matched what I served Aidan, not thinking about the fact that he’s several inches taller and about three stone heavier than me. He’s almost finished his meal when I have to surrender to my smaller frame and give up. I’ll keep it in the fridge for tomorrow, so as not to waste it.
