Heated Beat 01 - My Mate Jack (MM) (12 page)

BOOK: Heated Beat 01 - My Mate Jack (MM)
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08:56 a.m.
Will:
Aren’t you?
09:16 a.m.
Jack:
I don’t know. I thought I was… always have, but then you… I’ve tried everything, Will. Nothing and no one feels like you.
11:34 a.m.
Jack:
Please don’t blank me. Not now.
12:45 p.m.
Will:
I’m not. I was sleeping. And drunk. Still am. Maybe that’s why this conversation doesn’t feel weird. I wish we’d talked like this when you were here.
12:57 p.m.
Jack:
Me too. We used to talk about everything. S’pose I fucked that up too.
03:15 p.m.
Will:
No. Life just changed. But I miss you, Jack. Every day.
10:38 p.m.
Will:
Now who’s blanking who?
September 13
12:45 p.m.
Jack:
Sorry. Bad night. I miss you too, by the way. I wish I knew how to fix this.
02:39 p.m.
Will:
Bad night? Migraine?
09:45 p.m.
Jack:
Yeah. Can I ask you something? Fuck it. Gonna ask it anyway. What was it like when you first… got fucked by a bloke?
September 23
02:23 a.m.
Will:
Why the hell are you asking me that?
September 24
08:45 a.m.
Jack:
Stoned on migraine tablets. Seemed like a good idea at the time. But I do want to know. I remember fucking you. I dream about it sometimes. Not the fucking… your face at the end. I want to feel like that.
09:15 a.m.
Will:
You’re making my head spin and I have an assessment in half an hour I’m nowhere near fucking ready for, so I’m just going to say it…. Are you gay?
02:45 p.m.
Will:
That didn’t come out right. ’Cause it doesn’t matter to me either way. Remember what you said to me? That providing I didn’t want to bang your mum you’d be my mate whatever? It works both ways, Jack. The way I feel about you confuses me sometimes, especially when things… happen between us, but nothing matters more than being your mate.
September 29
08:54 a.m.
Jack:
I used to think that too, until we did end up shagging. Then I woke up naked in your bed and nothing ever felt the same again. You should know, by the way, I’m pretty sure your dad walked in on us the next day. You were out of it, and I was kinda staring at you. I didn’t notice him at the door till he was walking away.
I counted the days after that until you left for Leeds. Then I had to leave for Ibiza and when I got there, I couldn’t think straight. The girls, the money, the music. Something was missing, and I knew it was you. I figured we’d talk about it when you came to see me, but then I saw Evan waiting for you on the pavement and I realized for the first time that you weren’t just mine.
Don’t ask me why it took so long. Maybe it was Evan. He gave me this look and I knew he knew. I felt sick then, like the bottom of the world dropped out, and I didn’t know why. Then you came to find me in the club. You fell asleep on me at Sunrise Rock and I knew that I was in deep fucking trouble.
Shit. I’m rambling again. Sorry, mate. It’s just it all made sense when I saw you at the airport. That moment felt perfect, you know? I wish we could have that again.
08:23 p.m.
Will:
Hold that thought.
September 30
08:25 a.m.
Jack:
Eh?
07:45 p.m.
Jack:
Will? Are you there?

 

 

October 2004

Ibiza.

 

W
ILL
SAT
on the sun-warmed stone steps and shivered. He’d figured Ibiza would be balmy all year round, but as the daylight faded, Jack’s doorstep felt as chilly as the English autumn he’d left behind.

His phone beeped, about to die. Stupidly, he’d dropped everything and got on a plane with just his wallet, passport, and a bag of clean clothes. He’d bought a toothbrush at the airport and batteries for his mini disc player, but his phone had drawn the short straw.

Idiot
. Will shoved it in his pocket. He’d been sitting on the steps to Jack’s apartment for hours, half dozing, half fretting. Jumping on a plane, still pissed up from a cheap wine-laden night in, moaning Suki’s ear off, had seemed like a good idea at six o’clock in the morning—the only solution to weeks of e-mails that made no bloody sense. Jack’s electronic confession had come in fits and starts, for both of them. Some days, Will couldn’t open his e-mail for fear of what Jack would say next. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Then Jack took him back to the airport last summer. That heart-stopping moment when the world had narrowed to nothing but Jack… Will and Jack. Nothing but each other.

It’s just it all made sense when I saw you at the airport. That moment felt perfect, you know? I wish we could have that again.

Three simple lines that had blown a gaping hole in Will’s resolve. Since when had Jack become so bloody poetic?

Who knew? And even now, Will had little idea what he was doing, loitering outside Jack’s building, waiting for him to come home. What the fuck was he going to do? Leap on Jack and confess undying love? Yeah, right. Because, really, what the hell had changed? Jack thought he might like cock… Will’s cock in particular, and Will didn’t know how he felt about that any more than Jack did.

Will retrieved his phone from his pocket. It still had half a bar of battery power, just enough to make the call he’d been meaning to make even before he’d lost his marbles and raided EasyJet’s last minute flights.

Ned answered on the third ring. “Will? Where are you, son? Hang on, I’ll call you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. I haven’t got much battery anyway. Not in the pub or anything, are you? I want to ask you something.”

Ned grunted. “Providing it’s not dosh, we’re good. That fancy computer of yours cleaned me out—”

“When were you going to tell me you saw me and Jack in bed together?”

“Eh? When?”

“A few summers ago. Before I moved to Leeds.”

There was rustling at Ned’s end, and the sound of a beer can popping. “Jack slept over every weekend, son. I saw you two crashed out in your bed all the time.”

Will knew that. Of course he did. Ned had checked on him every day of his bloody life, but something about this felt off. “Don’t bollocks me, Dad. Jack told me he saw you.”

Silence. “He did, eh? Well, I s’pose I thought it wasn’t my place. You’d already told me you were… gay, and you and Jack didn’t seem any worse for it. No point me sticking my oar in.”

“So you knew?” Frustration heated Will’s blood. “All this bloody time, you knew about Jack and you didn’t tell me?”

“Tell you what? Something going on?”

“I… I don’t know.” Will banged his head on his knees. He didn’t quite have the balls to tell Ned he’d scarpered to Ibiza. “Things with Jack….”

“Ah, getting complicated? ’Bout bloody time. Surprised it’s taken this long.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ned sighed, soft and gusty, like he’d been sighing Will’s whole life, and Will heard it like a sonic boom. “Boy, you two have been wrapped up in each other since the day you met. Maybe it’s time you thought about why—”

Will’s phone died and took Ned’s words of wisdom with it. The call also sapped the last of Will’s energy. He pocketed the phone and kept his head on his knees. What the fuck was he even doing here? Ned was right. What kind of friendship was built around pity snogs and practice fucks? Jack was confused. He had to be. There was no—

“Will?”

 

 

J
ACK
OPENED
his front door with his flashy swipe card. He stood aside for Will to precede him. Will didn’t move. Jack’s appearance felt like a dream, and despite spending the last five hours slumped on his doorstep, Will felt lost, like he wasn’t altogether sure where he was. Or how the fuck he’d got there.

“Will, come inside.” Jack grabbed Will’s arm and yanked him over the threshold.

Inside, they traipsed upstairs in silence. Jack pushed Will onto the sleek leather couch in the living room. He disappeared for a few minutes, then came back with tea and a packet of Bourbons.

Will stared at the biscuits. “You get those here?”

“It’s Ibiza, mate, not Sierra Leone.” Jack looked amused, though his red-rimmed eyes gave him away. “Eat some, please. It’s all I’ve got in and you look half-dead.”

Will could believe that. The last thing he recalled eating was a packet of Super Noodles straight out of the saucepan in Suki’s bedroom, and he couldn’t remember when he’d last slept. Shit, he hadn’t slept properly in weeks.

He stuffed a few biscuits in his mouth. Jack watched him for a while, then edged closer and tucked Will’s wayward hair behind his ears.

“Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but what are you doing here?”

Will glanced around. “Where are your flatmates?”

“Away. We’re hardly ever here at the same time.”

Jack’s tone made Will look back at him. “So you’re here by yourself?”

“Most of the time, yeah. Gets pretty lonely.”

Something clicked in Will’s brain. “You’ve said that to me before, at the festival.”

Jack grinned, soft and faint. “Did I? Don’t remember much about that.”

Will sipped at his tea, then set it aside and let himself drift closer to Jack until he found himself leaning on Jack, his face buried in Jack’s chest and Jack’s arms around him like a warm, comforting cage.

Jack broke the deadlock first, though he didn’t pull away. “Thought this would be easier if I could just see you, but it’s not.”

“Maybe I should go home so you can send me another bloody e-mail.” Will stifled a Ned-style sigh and forced himself from Jack’s loose embrace. “Sorry. That was twatish.”

Jack let his arms drop. “Don’t blame you. What is this? You here to tell me to go fuck myself?”

“What? No! It’s not….” Will rubbed his temples. He’d had a stress headache all day. He couldn’t imagine how Jack felt when his migraines hit. “Jack, I can’t do this anymore, okay? I need you to tell me what the fuck’s going on, and I need you to be really bloody clear what you mean.”

Jack shifted. He sat back on his heels and bit his lip. “You said you’d be my friend whatever. Why does it matter how I feel about blokes?”

Will closed his eyes. “I don’t give a shit how you feel about blokes. I care how you feel about
me
.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

Jack got up and put some much needed distance between them. “I don’t know what to think. I meant everything I’ve ever said to you about… us, but I don’t know how you feel. I never have.”

“Are you taking the piss?”

Jack’s expression darkened. “Me? Fuck you, Will. You think just because you’re so bloody sure you’re gay everything else just slots into place? That it’s fucking obvious and you don’t have to explain yourself ever again?”

Will was officially lost, and Jack’s anger startled him. Jack was a passionate guy, but his temper was a slow burn, and Will hadn’t seen him lose it in years. “Explain myself? What does that even mean?”

“Fuck’s sake.” Jack balled his hands into fists like he wanted to punch the wall. “I lost my virginity to you, and you walked away from me like it was nothing.”

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