George had left Matty to sort of potter around his flat while he cooked for them. It wasn't really a meal time, but Matty hadn't had lunch since it was such a short shift that he didn't need a break, and George was generally terrible at being an adult a lot of the time - too deep in his work to consider stopping to eat three meals a day. Two often seemed enough, even if his mates told him off for it - it wasn't like he was underweight or anything, so George didn't really see the issue.
There wasn't an awful lot of pottering for Matty to do if he was honest: George's flat was pretty tidy, and the fact it was open plan left little to explore. Even the bed - at least queen sized, Matty reckoned - was just tucked away in the corner, next to the sofas and telly. Not exactly a living room, but the equivalent, with a red, soft-looking plush rug between the large sofa and arm chair.
Even just that corner left Matty reeling in awe: the telly was massive, perhaps exceedingly so, and the sofas looked like they didn't come cheap, and the whole flat in general left Matty feeling a little overwhelmed and out of his depth; thrown in at the deep end so to speak.
It was nice, though. The tidiness left it all feeling very modern, very safe, Matty supposed, and perhaps that was what he needed. It was consuming, however, how expensive everything in the flat looked, from the telly to the oven to the fucking speaker system that ran around all the walls, one of those fancy things that normally goes through every room in the house so you can play music everywhere at once.
Matty couldn't really see the benefit to it in an open plan flat, except for the bathroom. Still, Matty couldn't help but feel a system which he assumed would cost a couple thousand quid was actually worth it when you could just carry your phone into the bathroom with you.
The bed, while it was sort of tucked away insofar as being in the corner of the room, was width ways against a large panel of glass, looking over the city. Not on the side of the tea shop - Matty was sure he would have noticed it if it had been - but Matty could imagine how stunning the view must be at night. The flat was higher up than he'd originally thought, not having realised quite how many stairs they'd climbed.
"Is it rented?"
Matty's words came out abruptly, tumbling from his mind before he could stop them.
"I mean - this must be a hell of a lot of money, I didn't mean to sound rude or anything. Just curious."
George turned his head away from the saucepan of pasta on the cooker, looking over his shoulder at the short man who seemed even smaller in a flat with such a high roof, especially since he was holding himself in such a self-depreciating way, his shoulders seeming to cave in him.
"Bought it after a year." He paused, frowning at the way Matty was bouncing back and forth slightly. "You alright, love?"
Matty smiled a little awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he turned away to shuffle towards the window. He hummed non-commitantly, because really, he was fine, and there was no real reason he felt so out of place - although, perhaps there was cause for him to be nervous, apprehensive, even, of being in the flat of a man he'd never met before and realistically knew little-to-nothing about, except for the fact that he had a little too much money to spare, or so it seemed, and that he was more than willing to give it to Matty if he put on a bit of a show.
Alright, so maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Pasta's alright, yeah? Think it's got egg in, you're not, like, vegan or anything, are you?"
Matty let out a soft chuckle through his nose, turning back to face George with a grin - a proper smile, this time. "Fuck off. Pasta's perfect, thanks."
"Alright, well. Nearly done now, I'll let it cool a bit."
George set about mixing olive oil and spices and whatever else he picked out from the cupboard that Matty didn't really recognise, leaving Matty to look back and forth between the glass table with the posh chairs and the expensive sofas, trying to work out whether they'd be going for formal or not.
By the time George had the pasta on weird half-bowl-half-plates, Matty hadn't managed to solve this predicament and was standing half on his toes, looking at his feet. When George saw this, he frowned, unsure whether to laugh or ask if something was properly wrong, but stepped towards the sofa, aiming to place the dishes on the coffee table before coming back to see what was up with Matty, but he barely got two paces past Matty before a small hand wrapped around his elbow.
"Can we, uh- do you mind if we sit at the table? Don't want to, like, stain your sofas or anything. Look expensive."
George raised his eyebrows at the request, but made his way back to the table instead, placing the dishes down so that they were just around the corner of the table from each other. "Not like I wouldn't have the money to get the upholstery cleaned, love. You don't need to worry about that."
Matty half-smiled, but slid into the chair that George had pulled out for him nonetheless, and waited until George had picked up his cutlery to start eating. His eyes began to water the moment he realised just how spicy George had made the oil, and he swallowed the pasta as quickly as he could before sputtering out a cough. George swore before rushing over to the sink, pulling open a cupboard and filling a glass with water to shove in front of Matty, rubbing his back as he downed the glass, swirling the last gulp over his tongue before swallowing it.
"Fuck - I'm sorry, I'm not really used to spice, I guess. Christ, it's like I have some kind of, like, internal calling to embarrass myself, I swear."
"Don't worry about it, honestly." George tugged his phone out of his back pocket, wiggling it at Matty. "Want me to order you a pizza or something instead? There's a Domino's down the road that always puts mine through fast."
Matty felt a warm blush rise through his cheeks, and he stuttered slightly as he spoke, his words coming out in a bit of a shamble. "I - that's fine, honestly, I'm sure I can manage, like, I probably just need to adjust - and you made this lovely food, like, you put actual effort in, and that shouldn't go to waste, should it?"
George sighed a little, with a subtly amused smile on his lips as he bent over to wrap his arms around Matty's chest, leaning his head on Matty's shoulder and hoping to god that he was alright with affection.
"It's no problem, love. It's not like pasta's fine dining or anything, and I can still eat mine. I'll even eat yours if it makes you feel better about the waste."
Matty let out an indistinguishable breath before snaking his arms up and around George's neck as the older man's broad hands rubbed along Matty's spine.
"Does this mean we can move to the sofa then?"
Matty's lips widened into a grin as he held back a giggle, watching George's face as he pulled away from the hug, only to slide his hands under Matty's armpits and lift him off the chair. Matty gasped in reflex, trying to squirm away from the grip on his ribs. George had managed to dig his fingertips into a particularly ticklish spot of his, and Matty couldn't do anything but grip George's biceps and kick his legs out a little until George plopped him onto the sofa.
"I do have legs, and they do work pretty well, George."
George simply bit his lip and took a step towards Matty before placing his fingertips back on Matty's ribs, allowing them to dance across the small man's waist and over his belly. Matty wasn't far off of screeching from the contact, his legs contracting reflexively and his eyes beginning to water.
"Fuck's sake, George- oh my god, stop, oh my god, this is so unf- fuck, unfair!" He glared when he realised George was giggling at him and his confusion, and let his arms and legs go limp at George's relent, only to frown, because George was walking away and he hadn't said a word, and this was a very confusing, very new situation for Matty and he wasn't sure how to react when George looked like he was heading for the door, and it was his flat, and-
And.
George stopped at the little pile of letters on the stone counter of his kitchen, flicking through the pile of white until he found the Domino's flyer and strode back over to the man on his sofa, reduced to timidity. He was equally unsure of how to deal with the light frown and pout across Matty's face, and so opted for sliding onto the sofa a foot or so away from where Matty's shoulders were propped up diagonally against the cushions. Not a particularly comfortable position, George didn't reckon, but he wasn't going to intrude when he was so spectacularly aware that he was the reason for Matty's expression.
"Wanna pick a pizza?" George offered Matty a smile, and it seemed that was all Matty needed to perk up again, shuffling into a more upright position before shifting across the velvety sofa - Matty had no idea what the upholstery was made of, but it had felt lovely against his back where his shirt had ridden up as George attacked him so inhumanely - to sit with his arm touching George's.
Once George had ordered the pizza for Matty and brought his own pasta bowl to the sofa, and once Matty's pizza had arrived and George didn't have to get up again for a fair while, Matty felt it was appropriate to lean on the older man a little more, allowing his legs to tuck up underneath him. His head fell, gently at first, onto George's shoulder, allowing the amount of weight he placed on him to grow over time as he got more comfortable listening to the shitty romcom that George had shoved on TV.
Matty found his focus was much more on the heartbeat that he could hear through George's ribs; working out which beats were George's and which were his own, pounding against his skull.
~~~
It didn't take long after Matty had finished his massive pizza - George insisted on getting a large, because he'd decided it was the best value since he could save anything Matty left and have it for lunch tomorrow, but that didn't exactly go to plan when Matty ate the whole thing - for him to drift into a light doze on George's chest, his legs tucked up to his own chest and pressing against the side of George's thighs.
Thing was, that George was pretty desperate for a wank, having been putting it off on the basis of laziness for most of the day, despite wanting to the entire time, and now that there was nothing distracting him, his fingers were getting twitchy, rapping against the back of the sofa where his arm was stretched out behind Matty.
After a few minutes of contemplation, George made the decision to carry Matty over to his bed, preferably without waking him, so he could sneak off to the bathroom for a wank, under the pretence of a shower in case Matty woke up. He slid an arm under Matty's knees and slid the other under his armpits and around his back, figuring this way, Matty's position wouldn't change too much, so he shouldn't wake up properly.
He couldn't pull the duvet out from underneath him without waking the boy up once he was on the bed, so instead, he tugged the crocheted blanket over him from the bottom of the bed. Matty pulled the edge into his chest in his partial sleep, almost swaddling himself in the blanket with a tiny, audible breath in and sigh.
Once George was fairly sure that Matty was back off to sleep properly, he snuck away from the bed, keeping his footsteps as light as possible, to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He turned the shower on, going as far as to make sure it was his usual temperature in case he had to quickly get in, in whatever unlikely scenario concluded with Matty somehow entering the bathroom despite the lock, and stripped himself of his knitted sweater and jeans, leaving his boxers around his ankles.
It didn't take long with his hand around his cock before he felt himself swelling. He'd been half-hard under his jeans for a fair while now, and it just hadn't been going away, so it was no wonder that he was hard with little more than a few strokes, slicked up by the lube he kept in the cupboard above the basin.
George had little to no idea how long it had been by the time he came - honestly, it could have been two minutes or twenty, but he did know that it was the biggest relief he'd had in weeks. What wasn't a relief, however, was Matty knocking on the door not thirty seconds after he'd finished. He was still half leaning against the counter, where he'd turned around and got straight to it after grabbing the lube, his fingers almost shaking from how much he'd needed this, and he was completely unprepared to face Matty.
"I know you're in the shower, but I really need a piss, how long are you gonna be? Might piss myself out here."
Now that was a relief. At least Matty hadn't heard what he was doing.
"Just a minute, love. Let me get dressed." He heard Matty snorting a little through the door, couldn't tell whether it was a sort of impatient huff or whether Matty actually had heard him after all and wasn't buying it.
George turned off the shower, tugging his pants back up his legs as quickly as possible before reclothing himself, hoping that Matty wasn't literally about to piss himself in his very expensive flat. He pushed his left arm through the sleeve of his jumper as his right opened the door, sliding it over his head as Matty barrelled through into the bathroom, clearly as desperate as he'd claimed.
Matty decided it best, when he announced that he should probably get back home after he left the toilet, that he shouldn't mention George's unmistakably dry hair.
~~~
George wouldn't say that he was disappointed as such when he stepped foot in Matty's flat, but it he couldn't not admit that it was somewhat underwhelming. Matty had managed to confine their time together so far to George's flat and walks pretty much, arguing that they hadn't known each other long enough for George to spend any real money on him for a proper date.
However, when Nick had bothered Matty enough about wanting to meet the guy he'd been hanging out with off the internet - something Matty expected more from his mum and less from his best friend - he had given in, inviting George over for a meal with them.
Nick had very kindly offered to cook, being far more competent than Matty, which admittedly wasn't hard, but an important fact considering without him cooking for them daily, they'd live off microwave meals. Unfortunately, Nick had got home from work a little late, and Matty had already been at George's, so he'd rushed their curry and somehow burned it. He wasn't previously aware that you could even do that, but he supposed he'd been proven wrong.
As if it couldn't have got any worse for Nick - he'd wanted to make a good impression on George, weirdly, as if it was him Matty had found online - Matty arrived with George trailing a few feet behind him as Nick was dialling the number for the curry place down the road. He'd been hoping they'd get distracted at George's place and the curry would be delivered and on plates before they got home, so they'd never have found out it was ordered in, but that went down the drain as he heard Matty's key turning in the lock.
In all honesty, Nick wasn't exactly thrilled about meeting George, but he wanted to make sure Matty knew what he was doing. He'd rather put himself through a few hours of feeling like shit than Matty end up literally dead.
Matty's face lit up as he stepped into their flat and smelled the curry, only for his expression to fall when the burning came through.
"How the fuck did you even manage that, Nick?"
Nick blushed, heat spreading up his neck as he looked at the tiles of the floor, waiting for Matty to bumble through. "Honestly no idea. Never happened before."
Matty let out a little huff through his nose in a sort of mix of amusement and disappointment - he wanted George to like Nick, he really did, and he was a little bit worried that everything else would go wrong, too. He pulled the tall man into a hug all the same, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as usual when he got home after Nick, before stepping away so that George and Nick were looking straight at each other where they had been staring at Matty.
"George, this is Nick. Nick - George." Matty supplied introductions as if they couldn't possibly figure it out on their own, but still, the two men stepped across to each other, giving a quick handshake before stepping back once more.
"Sorry about the curry, man."
George raised his eyebrows, looking over at the pan. "Want me to have a go?"
What Nick really wanted was to go back in time and go the fiddly route home so that he didn't get caught in traffic, and what he wanted since that wasn't possible was to regain the air of superiority that he'd been hoping to hold, but he found himself struggling to put into words the fact that he could have another go.
"Sure, if you don't mind. Don't want it to happen again. Would be a waste." He stepped back from the counter a little, giving George space to observe the mess he'd made. "Doesn't normally go this wrong, I swear."
There were spices and the occasional escaped chickpea all over the countertop, and Nick felt his blush getting deeper. He was good with meeting new people normally, but this was embarrassing and he wasn't at all a fan of the situation.
Matty, however, looked to be having the time of his life, his chest shaking as he tried to stop himself laughing at Nick's predicament. Nick was almost a little offended at this, feeling he deserved the support of his oldest friend, and gave him a little shove and a glare.
"Sorry," Matty whispered, looking up at Nick before turning to George. " Nick is a wonderful cook normally. Absolute saviour, I swear."
"I'll just have to come back again and see, then, won't I?"
Nick wasn't entirely convinced either way as to whether George was being genuine or not about that, but the vigorous nod that Matty gave blew the doubt from his mind.
"I'll make my speciality next time. Crusted bean and pesto bake."
When George turned to smile at Nick's suggestion, it was one of the warmest smiles Nick had encountered, and even though it had only been a few minutes, he had no doubt that George would be wonderful for Matty in a way that he couldn't be anymore.
~~~
By the time George left, Matty following him back to his flat for the night (something he didn't do very often, to Nick's relief - he didn't think he could handle it if Matty abandoned him for someone he'd only met a few weeks ago), it was already half seven, and Nick found himself feeling more alone than ever in the empty flat.
The meal had gone well, eventually. George had been lovely to the both of them, and Nick had managed to find no obvious fault in his character. He didn't really know whether to be excited for Matty or a little put-out for himself, which had resulted in a lot of pacing and playing music as loud as he could without the other occupants of the building complaining just so there was anything but quiet in the flat.
Once it reached eight o'clock and Nick was still pacing through the flat, unable to stay still or sat down for more than thirty seconds at a time, if that, he decided he just needed to be around someone. So, he pulled out his phone to text John, hoping he and Ross would be home and willing to take him in for a few hours.
John always replied either instantly or in a few hours, and if he didn't reply straight away, it was because he and Ross were busy, so Nick was extremely grateful when, less than a minute after his text was delivered, he got a reply.
Course you can come over :) need to catch up anyway, was going to invite you next week xx
Barely another minute later, and Nick had a denim jacket shrugged over his shoulders and a pair of boots on, with the laces tucked down with the tongue instead of tied.
The walk from his and Matty's flat to John and Ross's was a ten minute one, more or less, and Nick made it five. The cold air of autumn kept him moving just as much as his restless legs did, the muscles in his lower back contracting in small shivers every few moments as the cold whisked through his hair and around his neck and ankles.
He was exhausted, too, after working from seven to two, and then cooking, and then having to talk to George for three and a half hours after the disastrous curry, and really he could probably have done with going to sleep, but he knew there was no way he could sleep like this. At least not alone; he needed some sort of company right now, whether it came from people being around or someone to sleep next to him.
He was so contented as John tugged him through the door into their flat from the freezing corridor that was only marginally warmer than outside that his brain practically shut down for a little while, anything John and Ross said to him seeming almost fuzzy as he thawed in the warmth of the heated flat.
It took Nick a few minutes to pull himself out of his state, and when he did, feeling the blanket John had draped over him and hearing Ross pouring a cup of tea, it took only a few moments for his eyes to well up, and for a tear to plop from his chin onto his wool-covered lap.
John was on him immediately, his whole body practically thrown into Nick's lap as he enveloped him in one of the tightest hugs Nick had ever received, other than from Matty. Nick found himself rubbing John's back when he didn't get back up again, as if John was the one in need of comforting, his hands ending up wrapped around John's waist instead as he accepted the kindness, keeping the man as close as possible to his torso.
John's weight only lifted from his thighs when Ross sat next to him on the sofa. John slid off his lap to sit on Nick's other side, leaving him with warmth surrounding him and a cup of tea being shoved into his hands by Ross. They sat in silence for a few minutes, which was exactly what Nick had wanted to avoid, but this was a good silence: not total quiet; there were breaths and the sound of John's hand rubbing the denim of Nick's jeans, and Ross occasionally shuffling on the sofa.
No one spoke a word until Nick was almost halfway done with his tea, and he was able to clutch it properly between his hands without it burning him.
"Matty's got a boyfriend."
Ross' head tilted to the side, a frown adorning his forehead as John wrapped an arm around Nick's shoulder, pulling him closer once more.
"I mean - maybe not a boyfriend, not yet, but he's always at his flat, and they- they kiss, and they probably do other things. And-" Nick sighed before taking a deep, shaky breath- "And I'm not ready to handle them being cute."
Still, Ross and John said nothing as Nick thought for a moment, waiting for him to get it out. Ross had managed to sneak a hand between Nick's back and the sofa and was rubbing along his spine, slowly, gently, as Nick spoke.
"I still love him a bit, I think. I thought it was gone by now, but... It's not? And I don't think it will be for a while."
Ross and John shared a little look before John took a quiet breath, trying his best not to make the situation any worse.
"I - I don't want to be rude, because I know practically nothing about this yet, but... Maybe this would be good for you. Seeing him with someone else, spending a bit of time apart... Not like, weeks away from each other or anything, I don't think that'd help anyone, but..."
Ross half-smiled sympathetically at Nick, who was staring helplessly into his almost empty mug.
"He could be right, Nick." Ross offered, taking a sip of his own tea. "As long as he's safe and that, maybe you need some time to yourself. Maybe even find yourself someone to occupy you."
Ross extracted his hand from behind Nick when he took his final glug of tea, standing up and sticking his hand out to take Nick's mug. The moment he was gone, Nick slumped back into the sofa, his head lolling to the side that Ross had vacated.
John's palm was still resting on Nick's thigh, and it almost felt like it was keeping him grounded. "He does love you too, you know. Not like that, not anymore, but... You mean so, so much to him. Promise."
Nick rocked his head back over to his left, opening his eyes to gaze at John skeptically. "How do you know that? When was the last time you even saw him?"
If Nick wasn't in such a weird place, John probably would've rolled his eyes, but he stopped himself, opting for a little squeeze of Nick's thigh.
"Last week, actually. Didn't mention a boyfriend - not with that word anyway, though I assume it's the George he said about, but he did keep going on about how much he wanted you two to be friends. You and George, that is." Another squeeze, and a rub. "You really do mean everything to him. I doubt he'd still see this guy if you didn't want him to."
The idea that he held so much influence in Matty's life made Nick want to be sick. They weren't together, but they weren't apart, and Nick didn't really know how to handle that anymore. It was okay when he could ignore any feelings he had for the man, but the jealousy creeping through him inspired by George was ruining the whole facade.
"I love him," Nick burbled as Ross sat back down next to him, wrapping his arm around Nick's shoulder now that John's had dropped. The feeling of warmth across his upper back from Ross's forearm made John's hand leaving his thigh when he stood up more bearable, and Nick found himself leaning sideways into Ross, his legs awkwardly curling up to his chest.
"I know you do, love." John bent down to kiss Nick's cheek - thankfully the opposite side to Matty, because Nick was sure that would have set him off crying again - before announcing that he needed the loo.
"Tell me something good, Ross." Nick sniffed mid-sentence, and Ross's heart ached at the defeated tone in his voice. He wasn't entirely sure what Nick meant by something good, but there was only one thing filling Ross's mind as a positive thing to tell him.
"I'm going to propose."
Ross waited for a moment, allowing the silence to stretch out in front of them like the sky, rolling on until he was sure that Nick wasn't going to complain.
"I know we're young and that, but I think it'll be good for us both. Already live together, seems logical." Ross paused, his eyes widening as he realised what he'd said. Nick and Matty had lived together on-and-off romantically for years now, but barrelled on, hoping Nick wouldn't be upset by it. "Got the ring and everything- well, no, but I've ordered it, should be in the shop next week."
"That's lovely, mate." Nick's statement was somewhat undermined by the sniff before he spoke. "I'm really glad. Proud of you. Never thought you'd get married before me and-"
The rest of Nick's sentence came out not as words, but as a heavy sigh, and Ross felt as if his heart actually sank.
"I'm so sorry, Nick." Ross shook his head slowly, disappointed that he had, for a moment, thought telling Nick about this was a good idea. "I shouldn't have said anything. Insensitive. Fuck, I'm sorry, man."
Neither man noticed the sound of the toilet flushing and John walking back into the living room, closing the door behind him quietly when he realised Nick hadn't got any better.
"It's fine, Ross."
"No, it's not, I'm- that was awful of me, completely unnecessary, I feel like such a dick, honestly, I'm so-"
Ross was cut off by John striding around the sofa to stand in front of the two men, frowning and folding his arms. "What did he say, Nick?"
Nick looked down at his lap, not wanting to say anything for fear of either his voice cracking or blurting out the truth.
"Just said about how bratty you get in bed." Ross spoke with a grin and a slight chuckle in his voice, letting John know that it was a joke and that he shouldn't push it.
"Fuck off," John mumbled, gently kicking Ross's foot as he sat back down on the sofa.
"There it is, see?"
John couldn't help but giggle quietly at his boyfriend's blase attitude, before turning his attention back to Nick, his jaw dropping slightly. "Nick, I've- I've had a thought."
Lifting his head slowly to look up at John, Nick raised an eyebrow and shuffled around to face him a bit better.
"You don't need, like, a boyfriend or anything, you just need a fuck."
That was the first thing that had made Nick smile so far during his visit, a small chuckle stumbling from his lips. "Honestly, you're probably right. Fuck, it's been- what, two months?"
That got John excited, the man bouncing slightly on the sofa, his features lighting up as Nick accepted his suggestion. "Me and Ross know a few gay guys - obviously - we could set you up, oh my god, that'd be amazing, right babe?"
"I mean, we can try, I can't promise that-"
"No." Nick shook his head, a smirk still adorning his lips. "You're right that I could do with a fuck, but you're not setting one of your mates on me. That'd be a disaster."
John sighed, slumping back slightly, not expecting Nick to say anymore.
"I'm gonna get a blowjob in the club toilet."
is this back
is it not
who knows
find out next time
dedicated to el for just being lovely and wonderful and encouraging love you el xxxxxx
have a good night
love u
mikey xoxoxoxooxoxxox