Dave woke before dawn, with Nick cradled in his arms. He wanted more than anything to stay just like that, kiss Nick awake and do again everything they had done the night before. But even though he had told Nick that he didn't regret it (and he really didn't, in spite of everything), he still felt ashamed. This would complicate things significantly. He loved Nick. Part of him probably always would, no matter what happened. But he was still not convinced that entering into a relationship again would be the right thing to do. And even though Nick had told him that he didn't expect more than this, Dave still worried about what it might do to him. Would he crash again? Go completely off the rails like he had before?
In spite of all these thoughts, however, he couldn't help but place a soft kiss on Nick's neck, and Nick awoke almost immediately, yawning and stretching like a cat. Then he looked up at him through the semi-darkness and smiled. 'I almost thought last night was a dream,' he murmured, and captured Dave's lips in a sweet and sleepy kiss.
Dave sighed and sat up, trying to hide the fact that he'd woken up hard. 'It was. Sort of.'
Nick was silent for a while. 'Yeah. I know.'
'I should go to Mellie's room. Before she wakes up.'
'You think we should hide it from her?' asked Nick softly.
'I think she'd be very concerned if we told her. Don't you?'
'Maybe you're right.' Nick rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. 'I'll follow your lead,' he said.
Dave got up and looked around for his clothes. His t-shirt had suffered the fate of being used to clean up cum the previous night, so he remained bare chested. 'You feeling okay?' he asked Nick after buttoning his jeans.
'Yeah. I'll be all right. You don't have to worry, I'm not gonna . . . At least I don't think I will.'
Unable to help himself, Dave sat down on the bed and kissed Nick on the forehead, combing his fingers through his hair. He hated himself for it, a little bit. Now that he had been with him again, had touched him again, it was incredibly hard to let go. How was it possible to love someone this much?
He stood up again and left the room. Nick said nothing.
Sneaking into Mellie's bedroom, Dave deposited his t-shirt in his bag, took off his jeans, and slid in under the covers on the mattress on the floor. Mellie stirred but did not appear to wake.
He could not get back to sleep, no matter how hard he tried. Partly, it was because he desperately wanted to go back to Nick's room for a repeat performance, which was making him hard again, and he really wished he was alone in the room so he could do something about it. But there was so much more to it than that. Since July, he had tried and failed to not love Nick. He had tried and failed to hate him. He had tried and failed to not think about him at night, when he was alone in his room. He'd been angry, sure. Livid, even. He had felt betrayed and heartbroken and more miserable than he ever had before in his life. But Patrick had been right. He'd felt that way because he loved Nick, not because he didn't.
He felt a pang of guilt, thinking of Patrick. The two of them were friends again now. Patrick had told him that he was over it, and Dave had no reason to disbelieve him. If he was lying, he was the world's greatest actor. In a way, Dave was very proud of him. He was out to all of Dorcrest and seemed happy about it. In fact, he appeared so well adjusted that Dave felt quite jealous.
Himself, he was a mess. His whole life, Dave had been used to being the cool and level-headed one. In every respect except when it came to Nick, that is. And now more than ever, it was hard for Dave to keep his cool whenever he was near him. As happy as he was that they were becoming friends again, and despite his better judgement, he wanted more. Last night he had acted on that want without thinking about the consequences.
He must have drifted off to sleep anyway, because the next thing he knew, it was light out and Mellie was up and getting dressed.
'Morning,' he said, yawning.
'Morning. How late did you get in last night?'
'Not very late . . . An hour or so after you, maybe?'
'Hm . . .' She pursed her lips. 'Listen. I'm saying this because I care about both you and Nick, okay? If, hypothetically, something happened between you two, just . . . don't play with his feelings, okay? And don't play with your own, either.' She headed towards the door. 'See you at breakfast.'
* * *
Despite what had happened, the train journey back wasn't particularly awkward. Nick found that, though the conversation didn't flow quite as easily as it had on their journey up the day before, he and Dave could speak normally, and they didn't mention the previous night. That didn't mean Nick wasn't thinking about it. His thoughts flitted back to last night whenever there was a moment of silence, so he tried to fill the silence as best he could.
When they were on the bus from Birmingham to Sapswell, however, Nick had run out of things to say, and in the end Dave spoke. 'So . . . about what happened.'
'It's okay,' said Nick. 'We don't have to talk about it. It happened. I know it was a one time thing, so let's not muddy the waters more than we already have, all right?'
Dave's expression was unreadable. Once upon a time, Nick had almost always known what he was thinking, but now he had no idea what lay behind those blue eyes of his. 'But,' said Dave, 'say, hypothetically, that something like that were to happen again—'
'Dave, stop.' Nick stared at his hands, resolutely refusing to meet Dave's gaze. He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to think about it, because it hurt too much. 'Don't be like this. It happened, and it won't again. So. That's that.'
Dave nodded. 'Okay. I'm sorry.'
They passed the remainder of the journey in silence.
* * *
It was beyond difficult for Dave to function during his lessons on Monday. His head was in utter turmoil. It should never have happened, and he wanted it to happen again. He wished he could erase the past year, make everything like it was.
Mandira could obviously tell something was wrong, and when they left Chemistry to go to lunch, she said, 'Are you okay? Did . . . Did something happen this weekend?' She knew he'd been to Manchester, and knew Nick had been there too. Dave couldn't lie to her.
'Yeah.' He exhaled slowly.
'Did things get awkward?' she asked.
'No, it was fine, actually. Nick was just happy to be there, to be going to the concert, and we talked normally. Everything was fine. But then . . .' Dave shook his head. 'During the concert he was just . . . He was the Nick I remember. And I kissed him. And then when we got back, we . . . Well.'
Mandira gaped at him, wide-eyed. 'So you—' She cut herself off and frowned. 'Does this mean you're back together?'
Dave shook his head. 'No. We . . . agreed it was a one time thing, I guess? I don't know, everything just feels really confusing right now. I mean, I still love him, and I know he still loves me, and I don't know how to deal with this.' He sighed. 'I want it to happen again, and I know it can't, and I just, I don't know what I want. And I don't know what he wants either. We were just starting to become friends again, and now I feel like I've cocked it all up.'
Mandi took his hand and gave it a squeeze. 'You'll figure it out. I know you will.'
'What do youthink I should do?'
She shrugged. 'It's not up to me. It's up to you. You have to decide what you want. I can't do it for you, no matter how much I'd like to help.'
'I suppose so.'
They sat down together in the cafeteria. 'Anyway,' said Mandira, 'you've got to think about what Nick wants too, right?'
Dave nodded. 'Yeah. I know.'
'Hey.' They both looked up and saw Patrick. 'Okay if I sit with you guys today?'
Dave cleared his throat. 'Yeah, sure. Have a seat.'
'You okay?' Patrick asked, sitting down.
'Yeah, just fine. How about you?'
Patrick looked down at his plate and smiled. 'I'm good. Actually, I wanted to share some news with you two . . . I actually got a new boyfriend.'
Mandira raised both her eyebrows. She gave Dave a quick glance, as though worried that this information would upset him, but Dave smiled at Patrick and said, 'Really? That's great! I'm happy for you.' And he meant every word. Patrick deserved someone. He deserved to be happy. 'Anyone we know?'
Patrick nodded. 'Yeah, but he's waaaay inside the closet, so you can't talk about it, okay?'
'Of course, we won't tell anyone,' said Mandi.
'It's Ali.' Patrick glanced across the cafeteria at a boy in their year, who was seated a few tables over with some friends.
'Your roommate?' Dave quirked an eyebrow. 'That's handy.'
Patrick smirked. 'Is, isn't it? We're kind of in the same boat, me and him. Far as family's concerned, I mean. My parents are Catholic, his are devout Muslims, so . . . He came out to me just after Christmas, after I told him about my family, and we kind of bonded over that whole thing, and then one thing led to another. I mean, I already found him cute before that.'
Dave glanced over at Ali. He wascute. He had curly, black hair, light brown skin and a sharp, angular jaw. His facial features were soft, however, bordering on pretty. Dave had met him briefly when he and Patrick had spent time in Patrick's room a couple of times.
'That's great,' said Mandira. 'I mean, the whole family situation sucks, but I'm glad you've found someone.'
'Yeah.' Dave grinned and bumped Patrick's shoulder with his own. 'He seemed nice, couple of times I talked to him.'
'He is. Anyway, he said I could tell you guys about it. Just sucks that we can't spend so much time together openly, 'cause he's not ready to come out to anyone else yet, and given that I'm out, people might get suspicious if we're seen together as more than just roommates, you know? So yeah, that's where the roommate thing comes in handy, I guess. Among other things.' Patrick's smile widened somewhat, a mischievous glint in his eye. 'I'm . . . I'm really happy, you know?'
Hearing that made Dave happier than he could describe. After what had happened between him and Patrick, and all the guilt he had felt, he was beyond glad to see Patrick find happiness elsewhere. As though he were reading Dave's mind (and hadn't he been able to do that from the start?), Patrick said, 'So, you can stop agonising over it now, Dave. I already forgave you ages ago, you know.'
Dave laughed. 'Yeah. I know.'
* * *
As had become routine, Matt was hanging out with Alan before practice Tuesday afternoon, and only Stuart was in the rehearsal room when Nick arrived a few minutes early.
'Hey!' he said, grinning. 'I've found us another gig, I'll tell you all about it when Matt gets here. Oh! Did you have fun this weekend? How much did you squeal when Brian Molko walked on stage?'
'I did not squeal!' said Nick indignantly. 'And, the gig was great. It was good . . .' He couldn't quite bring himself to smile properly.
Stuart's face fell when he noticed Nick's dejected expression. 'I was expecting words like "epic" and "legendary", not just "great" and "good". Did something happen?'
Nick considered lying, keeping it to himself. Now that he'd had a couple of days to process, he felt embarrassed, and angry with both Dave and himself. For two days, he'd been keeping it in, not even telling Zoë or Matt about it because he irrationally felt like they would judge him.
But Stuart never judged him. Not when it came to his personal life, anyway. That had become clear when Nick, after the break-up, had told him exactly what had happened and what he had done, and Stuart had simply shrugged and said, 'Shit happens. So, you fucked up. Doesn't mean you're not a good person anymore.'
Nick took a breath. 'I slept with Dave.'
Stuart's eyebrows quirked up almost imperceptibly. 'Ah. This a good thing or a bad thing?'
'Really, really bad,' said Nick. Then he gave it a bit of thought and added, 'And really, really good. It was good, Stuart. But . . . afterwards, it hurt. I mean, we're not doing it again. Not ever. We can't. It's too painful, 'cause I know . . . I know he doesn't want to get back together. I knew it going in. Saturday was a, a blip. A mistake. But . . . It was a glorious mistake.' He felt his face flush.
Nick turned away, opened up his guitar case and took out the Telecaster. This would help. Music would help.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and found Stuart right next to him. 'Would you like a hug?' he said, a bit awkwardly.
Nick smiled. 'Yes, please. If you've got one to spare.'
Stuart nodded. 'Just the one.' He took the Telecaster out of Nick's hand, leaned it gently against an amp, and put his arms around him. 'It's okay,' he said. 'It'll be okay. Can't say I understand it, but I know you'll figure it out. And, you know, clueless though I am, you can always talk to me. Right?'
Nick gave a short laugh and hugged him back. 'Yeah. I know. Thank you, Stuart.'
The door opened. 'What's going on with you lately, Stu?' said Matt. 'You've become so cuddly. Where's the prickly bastard we've grown to know and love?'
'Don't call me Stu,' said Stuart, releasing Nick and stepping back. 'Besides, it's only for Nick.'
'Yeah, he inspires affection, doesn't he?' Matt ruffled Nick's hair on his way to the bass amp. 'You're easy to love, Nick.'
Nick picked up his guitar and proceeded to plug it in. 'Not sure why. I'm the biggest fuck-up in the history of ever. I'm like a reverse King Midas; everything I touch turns to shit.'
'Yeah, you're flawed as all fuck,' Matt agreed. 'But maybe that's why you're so loveable.'
Nick switched on the amp and strummed a chord, trying to appear extremely focused, but on the inside he was melting a bit, the world feeling just that little bit better for Matt and Stuart being in it, and he failed to hide a smile.
'Right!' said Stuart suddenly. 'I was telling Nick, I found us another gig. Three weeks from Friday. Venue in Sapswell. They'd booked another band, but they pulled out, and someone recommended us. They've got a decent backline, so all we need to do is show up and get paid a few hundred quid for the effort. You in?'
'Sounds great!' said Matt with a grin. 'What do you think, Nick?'
'Sure,' said Nick. 'It'll do.'
'By the way,' said Matt. 'Isn't this Friday your birthday, Nick? Are we doing anything? You're eighteen, after all, right?'
Nick shrugged. 'I dunno. Don't really feel like celebrating.'
Matt frowned. 'What kind of an attitude is that? All right, I'm inviting myself and Stuart over to your house for dinner on Friday. I'll bring cake. You all right with that, Stuart?'
Stuart shrugged. 'Why not? You only turn eighteen once, Nick.'
Nick shook his head with a soft laugh. 'Fine. I'll let Zoë know. You guys are dicks, you know that, right?'
Matt grinned widely. 'Absolutely.'