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I would never hurt him. At least, I hoped I wouldn’t. I knew I could be full on, and having lived most of my adult life in the fast lane, trying to overtake Mark in the crazy department, well, I was trying to calm down, be what he needed me to be. I was in love. There was no doubt about it. I had never felt like this about anyone, and I counted Mark in those numbers. This was something completely different, something that was mine, and he was a man and it was absolutely fine. Nothing fazed me about having to tell the world that Hugo was my partner. I wanted him to be. And anyway, Mum had always secretly hoped Mark and I would get married. She hadn’t been subtle about it either. And I was loved. I was so bloody loved by everyone around me that at times it was a bit sickening. I was a grown man, yet sometimes I felt like a small, spoilt child.
Hugo was beautiful. Sharp angles and eyelashes that would have been the envy of any supermodel. His skin now sported a healthy glow, a light blush of colour on his cheeks, his lips winter dry but still with all that puffy texture that made me want to reach out and touch them. A tiny bit of stubble on his chin. I realised I’d never seen him shave, though I suppose hedid. He kept his small toiletry bag under the sink, zipped and safely out of sight. Strange, when all his medication was neatly lined up on the kitchen counter next to his prescription boxes of cereal bars and the nutritional powder he was supposed to mix into his food. He didn’t really need to anymore because he ate. Every spoonful going into his mouth made me breathe a little easier. I’d been on tenterhooks with him at the start, but things were getting better. I made him food. He ate it. Win-win. He paid his meagre rent like clockwork—I refused to let him pay for anything else. He still cleaned and tidied and brought home sackfuls of fruit from the supermarket. I didn’t dare to tell him that I usually bought mine from the market. The posh overpriced market. And he’d bought me sheets, pillows. Things I’d never even thought of buying for myself.
I wasn’t rich, but I earned enough to live. My student loans were paid off, and the small settlement from years ago had paid for some of the renovations to the flat. A flat that now felt like home. Even more so with Hugo living in it.
How lucky was I?
He suddenly shook awake, half sitting up with a panic-stricken look on his face, making me sit up too.
“I’m here. It’s all right,” I shushed, reaching out and grabbing his arm.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” He seemed bewildered.
“No, I was just lying here being creepy. Watching you sleep.”
“Thatiscreepy.” He smiled, and his shoulders relaxed inside my hoodie.
“Did you sleep well?” I asked, stroking the smooth baby hairs on the back of his wrist.
“Not sure.” He was still only half awake.
“I like that you wear my clothes. I would wear yours too, but…they kind of don’t fit.”
“Your hoodies are like big…cuddly…tents.” He blushed and pulled the front of the hoodie up and tried to hide inside of it.
“Can’t help it. I have big broad shoulders. And perhaps I should lose a bit of the beer gut, but to be honest, I can’t be bothered. I like my body now. It took me a long time to not stress about the fact that I couldn’t go to the gym every day and burn my body into submission. I can’t do that. I haven’t got the time or energy or… Yeah. My doctor would go mad. Physio is one thing. Breaking your neck again from miss-stepping on a treadmill? Not worth it.”
“You’re not going anywhere near a gym,” he said sharply. “I like you in one piece. Just as you are.”
“Now you sound like Bridget Jones.”
“I can’t believe you’ve watched Bridget Jones.”
“Of course I have! Mark has a thing for Hugh Grant. We watch all of those movies, every Christmas.”
“We need to get a TV. Seriously. Can you imagine? Lying in bed, Christmas Eve, watching films…with midnight snacks…”
He stopped, looking a little ashamed like he’d overstepped. I could almost see the apology forming on his lips.
“No,” I said sternly before correcting myself. “Yes. Yes to the movies in bed with everything you said. We’ll get a TV. I love the way you think.”
He didn’t need to say more, his smile said it all, before he once again hid his face in the neck of my hoodie. I never wanted him to wear anything else.I would buy myself new hoodies just so he could wear them. Make them smell of him.
“Well, we’re going on a date, so you need to get up.” That was me, crawling up on all fours and immediately regretting not kissing him. Fuck. I wanted to, but now I was standing next to the bed, and he was sitting up, and I felt like I’d missed my chance. I reached out, hoping he’d take my hand so I could pull him up. Hug him.
God, I was a mess, but I got him where I wanted him, standing in my embrace next to the bed, even though I’d calmed into that state where I was blissful jelly while a storm of emotions raged in my stupid heart.
My hands did what they did, clumsily cupping his face, and then I pressed my lips against his forehead. Closed my eyes and let myself feel what I felt. Because this was mine. All mine. My Hugo was right here, and I wanted to scream and shout and make the world go away so we could just stay here forever. There were too many emotions, too many unsaid words. Things that needed to eventually be said, but we hadn’t gone there yet.
We weren’t going there now either, because the day was wasting and the sun was out.
“Shall we go on this date then? Get dressed, and I’ll get you a coffee and a snack down the road. Good plan?”
“Good plan,” he agreed.
I let go of him and shuffled out in the hallway, picking up a pair of joggers off the floor. I was a slob. Normal people had wardrobes. I straightened and turned, and there was Hugo at the other end of the hallway, kicking off his sleep pants and dropping them to the floor before he disappeared into the living room. He had nice legs. Really nice legs. And I was so…ugh.
We were slobs together. I loved that he was so relaxed with my way of doing things. That he made me relaxed about them too.
