The present
"He's dead! Mike, he's fucking dead! What are we going to do?!" the young man wailed, before breaking into wretched sobs. The older man, standing in the bedroom doorway, was frozen, unable to believe what he was seeing. His friend, his flatmate, lying on the bed, his face grey and contorted, his body twisted in the position his death throes had dictated, surrounded by empty blister packs of his heart medication. A wine bottle lying supine on the bedside table, no sign of spillage, he must've drunk it first. Despite the incongruity, Mike almost laughed, how like Ivan, even in extremis, not to waste the last bottle of his favourite Chardonnay, he hated waste so much. The thought was only transient, though, the boy's distress - because that's what he was, Mike knew, for all his desire to be seen as 'grown-up', to escape from his desperately unhappy childhood and youth, this boy was barely 16, and looked, especially now with tears streaming down his cheeks, even younger than that - bringing his attention back to the here and now, this surreally awful here and now. He had to 'do something', and do it now.
"Keiron, come away, please. There's nothing we can do for him. Come into the lounge, and I'll call an ambulance."
"It's my fault, it's all my fault!" the boy cried. "If I hadn't...."
Mike stepped forward, took Keiron's shoulders in his hands, and gently but firmly turned him away from the bed, before ushering him out of the room, closing the door behind them.
"Don't think that, Keiron, please, we don't know what happened or why. You can't blame yourself."
"Of course it was my fault," the boy spat out. "He saw, he knew! I saw his reflection in the mirror!"
"Oh fuck!" Mike breathed, almost inaudibly.
****
Five minutes earlier
"5-0! I still can't believe it! It was bloody brilliant!" Keiron's excitement was still well up above the dazzle level, three hours and more after the final whistle, as he and Mike let themselves back into the flat.
"Yeah, you certainly picked the right match to go to!" Mike replied. "I don't go to every game, by any means, but that was the best I've seen them play for ages!"
"I didn't pick it, it was Ivan who got the tickets. I hope he's feeling better." The boy called out, rather over volume. "Hey, Ivan, we're back! Have you seen the football results?" No reply. "Maybe he's asleep." Keiron looked at Mike, and grinned, wickedly. "Maybe we can....celebrate a bit! I'll just take a peek in his room, if that's OK?"
Mike smiled in return, and nodded. "Quietly, though, you know what it's like being woken up when you're not feeling well."
"Course!" The boy walked down the hallway, and slowly opened the second door on the right. "Ivan?" Keiron's voice was little more than a whisper. As he took a step into the room, he saw his friend lying on the bed, fully clothed. Even in the dim light, the boy knew instinctively that something was wrong. He switched on the light.
"Mike!" he shouted, his voice dripping with panic. "Mike, quick!"
****
Ten hours earlier
"Why aren't you coming, Ivan?" Keiron asked, his face a picture of confused disappointment. "What's up?"
"I'm really not feeling well, sunshine. My heart arrhythmia has flared up, and I'm feeling a bit....sick". Ivan had left a pause, long enough to be meaningful, before the last word of the sentence, and, just for a moment, the man glanced beyond Keiron, at the face of his friend, but Mike's expression was nothing but neutral, so Ivan returned his attention to the boy. "You don't want to be towing a sickly, boring old p....git around with you, go and enjoy your brunch and your match. I'm sure you and Mike will have....fun together."
Mike might have managed inscrutability, but Keiron couldn't match him, and flushed, visibly. How beautiful he is, Ivan couldn't help thinking, even now in what was very much his adolescence rather than puberty, but then, he always was. Before his emotions had time to well up, though, he found himself having to attend to the boy's reply.
"I....I came to see you, though, not Mike! You're my friend, one of my best friends!"
"I'm really sorry, Keiron," Ivan replied slowly, "I wasn't planning to be ill, I promise you. It's just the way things have worked out. And I'm really happy you think of me as a good friend, I hope you know I feel the same way about you."
"Of course I do, you should know that!"
"Yeah, sorry Keiron, I do, definitely! Look, you need to get ready, you'll be late otherwise. You don't want to come all this way and miss kick off!"
Fifteen minutes later, Keiron and Mike were ready to leave, swaddled in coats, hats and gloves against the February chill.
"At least there's one advantage of illness," Ivan said, forcing lightness into his voice. "I don't have to go out there and freeze my arse off!"
"Wrap up warm, old man!" Keiron laughed. "You never know what might happen!"
For a moment, Ivan almost lost control completely, it took every ounce of his self-control to keep his emotions in check. Never a truer word, he thought.
"Have a good one, guys!"
"See you, Ivan," the boy said.
"Bye, Keiron." Love you, love you, love you always, echoed through the man's head.
And then they were gone. Ivan sat, staring at the blank back of the door for long minutes. Finally, he stood, and began to walk towards the kitchen. As he opened the fridge door and reached for the wine bottle on the shelf, big, silent tears, utterly beyond his control, began to roll down his cheeks.
****
One day earlier
"Sorry to be a boring old fart, but I'm going to have an early night, Keiron," Ivan said. "It's been a long day today, and it'll be a busy one for all of us tomorrow."
"Don't worry about it, you can't help being old!" the boy smirked. "Seriously, though, I really appreciate what you've done, driving all that way to pick me up and bring me here."
"You know it's not a problem - at least, I hope you do! I wish I was still living around the corner, and we could see each other whenever like we used to, but things haven't worked out that way. And it's all in a good cause, you finally getting to go to The Emirates, and see your beloved team in their natural habitat!"
"Why aren't you going, though? I hardly even know Mike."
"You know I can't stand Arsenal, and Mike's almost as big a fan as you are! It was a no-brainer! You got on OK with Mike when he came down home a few years back, didn't you?"
"Yeah....I suppose so. He....he's a nice guy....but I....I'd still rather it was you."
"Flattery will get you nowhere! It's only for tomorrow afternoon, though, just a few hours. We've got the rest of the weekend, and all day on Monday, too, going home." It was the weekend leading into the half-term holidays, and Ivan had booked a leave day to take Keiron back to Cornwall. "You'll be sick of the sight of me by Monday evening!"
The boy grinned mischievously once more. "Yeah, you're right! You are a boring old fart, after all!"
Ivan's expression would've convinced anyone walking into the room that his feelings had been genuinely hurt by Keiron's remarks, but the boy knew better.
"Stop pouting like some old drama queen! You know you love me insulting you!"
Ivan laughed out loud. "Damn, busted again! Anyway, Mike should be home in a few minutes, the train back from his meeting was a bit late, but he texted me to say he was getting on the Tube the best part of an hour ago. I guess he's stopped to pick up some food."
"What, are you going to bed already?" Keiron asked. It was just after 10:00.
"Yeah, I'm buggered! I guess you'll be staying up until God knows when, but I didn't have the luxury of sleeping in the car for the best part of three hours, like some people!"
At that moment, Ivan and Keiron heard the sound of the front door being opened, followed by a cheery 'Hello guys' as Mike climbed the steep flight of stairs to the first floor flat. Ivan, in the event, postponed his bedtime by almost an hour as the three chatted while Mike ate his Chinese takeaway, but he finally made his excuses between a pair of huge yawns, and headed for his room, having first made up the air mattress bed Keiron would be sleeping on in the lounge. At least Keiron and Mike seem to be getting on well enough, the man thought - they're both night owls, so Keiron shouldn't get bored, Mike will keep him entertained.
An hour later, Ivan woke with the sense of having slept for a long time, but a glance at the clock told him it wasn't even midnight yet. His bladder needed attention, though, so he slipped on his dressing gown, and padded, barefoot, towards the bathroom. The living room door was open, and the conversation, while not loud, was easily audible. What Ivan heard drove the call of nature from his mind instantly.
"Yeah, I really like Ivan," Keiron was saying, "he's been like a sort of 'favourite uncle' since I was really young, 7 or 8. I know he fancies me, though, I've known it for years. Not that he's ever tried to touch me, or anything, but I was about the only one who wasn't surprised when he came out as gay and split up with Emily. He's always looking at me when he thinks I won't notice. He's a bit of a old perv, sometimes."
"That's not very charitable," Mike replied, his tone of voice chiding the boy gently.
"Well, I don't really mind, mostly, it just gets a bit boring. I mean, he's helped me in lots of other ways - when I started to realise I was probably gay, or at least bi, he kept me sane, talked to me about it, told me it was OK to be myself. My mum would've absolutely freaked if I'd tried to say anything to her, she still doesn't know. She would've blamed my dad, like she blames him for everything else, even though he had nothing to do with it - he's as straight as they come, he'd probably freak just as much as her. If it hadn't been for Ivan....I might....might have ended up like some of those other gay teens you read about online, killing themselves."
"I know what you mean, I went through all that stuff with my family when I was around your age. My parents accepted it eventually, but they're still not happy about it, even now, twenty-odd years on. That's their problem, though, I am what I am."
"You're so cool, Mike!" Keiron gushed. "I mean, being so happy to be yourself, and being a programmer as well!" The boy's voice dropped a notch or two in volume, as though he didn't want to be overheard. "And you're really....hot, too. You make me....horny! Not like Ivan, I mean, he's a bit too fat, and has some really boring job on the railway."
Ivan stood silently in the hallway, numb. Keiron was right, he had been attracted to the boy since the earliest stirrings of the youngster's puberty, but had always kept his desires hidden, or so he'd thought, to protect Keiron from any harm. He'd always thought, especially after their discussions around the boy's orientation over the previous two or three years, that, once he was old enough, there might have been some chance that Keiron might have been interested in a relationship, but now, he knew that he'd been deluding himself all along. Ivan felt so stupid, how could I possibly have believed that it might happen, he thought wretchedly. I love him, more than anyone ever in my life, and all he thinks is that I'm a 'boring old perv'. Ivan turned and crept silently back to his room, the reason for his presence in the hallway forgotten, too upset to even cry.
Despite his distress, Ivan was exhausted enough to have fallen back to sleep almost instantly. but the consequences of the abortive trip to the toilet woke him again, an hour or so later. I really must go this time, the man thought, or I'll piss myself. The lights in the flat had all been extinguished in the intervening time, and Ivan thought no more than that Keiron and Mike must've finally called it a day. He slipped quickly and silently into the bathroom, relieved himself with an unconscious sigh, and washed his hands. I won't flush, he thought, I don't want to wake anyone - I'll be up before either of those lazy buggers in the morning, anyway. As he stepped back into the hallway, though, he stopped in his tracks. Rendered immobile by a voice. Keiron's voice, low but unmistakable.
"Ooohhh Mike, oh my God! I....I'm there!" Ivan's eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light, and he could see, through the open door of his flatmate's bedroom, reflected in Mike's large wall mirror, Keiron's face, rapturous, the eyes almost closed, the mouth open wide, heard the boy's gasping breath, then a loud, drawn-out groan as he hit his peak. Ivan watched, stunned, the rhythmic thrusts of the boy's slender thighs dissolving into a series of spasmodic jerks as orgasm overwhelmed him. Ivan finally tore himself away, slipping back into his room, blinded by tears of hurt, frustration and, yes, jealousy, just as Keiron's movements ceased, and he slumped down onto Mike's back. What he didn't know, though, was that, out of the corner of his eye as his consciousness returned in the wake of the tidal wave of sexual pleasure of the previous moments, Keiron saw his friend in that self-same mirror, turning away. The boy felt as though the pit of his stomach had just fallen through to the centre of the earth.
****
Epilogue - Two e-mails and a conversation
Dear Mike
I don't blame you, really I don't. My first reaction, last night, was 'How could you, how you could you do that to me, taking my boy away'. But then, of course, I realised that Keiron isn't 'my' boy, never was, never could be. He isn't anyone's boy, he's his own, autonomous self, a young man, old enough to make his own decisions. And I realised, too, that if the positions had been reversed, I would've done the exact same thing. I'd based too many of my hopes and dreams on Keiron, though, and now they've been exposed for the illusions they always were, I'm not strong enough to begin to build again. I'm sorry, so sorry that I've done what I've done to both of you, but I've nowhere left to go. Look after him, please, and make sure he gets home safely - I've put enough money in your bank account to pay his train fare.
Your friend, always
Ivan x
*
Dearest, dearest Keiron
Please, sweetheart, please, please, don't blame yourself, ever, for what's happened. I loved you too much, so much that I couldn't see what was real and what was in my head. I should have known, did know, really, if I'm being honest, but couldn't face the consequences of the truth.
Be happy, always. You deserve nothing less.
With all my love, forever
Ivan xxxx
*
The boy, as he had been, seemingly for hours, was cradled in Mike's arms, his eyes painfully red and inflamed from crying.
"I didn't know, Mike, I never knew that he felt that way about me. I thought it was just sex stuff."
"Shhh, Keiron. he said don't blame yourself, and, knowing Ivan the way I did, I know he meant it. I'm sure you do, too, if you think about it."
The boy nodded, mutely, but Mike was sure there was more he wanted to say. The man waited, patiently.
"I....I don't want to go home, Mike. I want to stay here, with you."
The man's reaction was to demur, but he'd fallen for this beautiful young person,beautiful outside and in, just as much as Keiron had fallen for him. At length, he spoke again.
"That's what I want, too, Keiron. But what about your mum?"
"If I come out to her, she'll throw me out, anyway. She's always hated me, because I look too much like my dad. I've had enough of living like that. I want to be loved, and....I want to be loved by you."
There were no more words, Mike simply leaned towards Keiron, and kissed him gently, while Keiron hugged Mike as tightly as he could. Tragedy might have brought them together, but it was going to take an awful lot more to ever drive them apart.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
