“Yeah, I know. Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“Then do me a favour, eh? Believe it.”
Michael stubbed out his butt and they went back to work. The rest of the shift wasn’t too taxing and Brian headed home in a good mood, even if he was all but falling asleep at the traffic lights. Maybe tonight he’d sleep better, or at least longer, than he had the night before. Knowing he wasn’t stuffing up too bad at the hospital was a relief.
Though that wasn’t his only cause of anxiety.
Andrew was sitting on the front step when he turned into the drive. His friend had a beer in one hand and the end of the extendable lead in the other. In the small patch of mostly green grass and raggedly trimmed hedge they called a front yard, Schrody was lumbering about like a baby elephant, the bright pink harness they’d bought him stark against his grey fur. Andrew was still in his work clothes, his hi-viz shirt untucked, and hair still half plastered to his head with sweat.
Rather than head into the house directly from the garage, Brian went back out the front and sat beside Andrew. “How come you have the furbaby out here instead in the backyard?” They had a six-foot fence around the backyard. Schrody could jump that high when motivated but they usually had a few seconds to tackle him if he tried.
“He refused to go out the back.” Andrew sounded tired and flat, and kept his gaze on the romping cat as he sipped from his beer bottle.
“This isn’t going to be a repeat of Monday night is it?” Shit. Brian hadn’t meant that to sound harsh, but apparently he couldn’t help it right now.
“I had a long day and felt like a beer. Anything wrong with that?”
Crap, this was awkward. He hadn’t felt awkward around Andrew since they were sixteen and Brian had lost his virginity with Simone, Andrew’s sister.
“No. Did you buy enough for me as well?”
Wordlessly, Andrew handed over the lead and got up to go inside.
They hadn’t had beer in the house regularly for ages. So much had changed over the past two years and none of it had bothered Brian. Whatever Andrew needed, he was there with it, no complaints. He’d lost sleep to work late and overnight shifts just so he could be home with Andrew when he needed it while going through chemo and had never complained. Brian had unquestioningly crawled into bed with him when he was at his lowest and held him while he cried or gasped for air or shivered for hours on end. All that and more he’d done without hesitation or regret and now . . . now he didn’t know what that willingness meant in the light of Andrew’s confession.
“Here.”
A beer appeared in front of Brian’s face and he took it. He didn’t really want it but since Andrew had fetched it, he unscrewed the cap and took a sip. In the yard, Schrody spun around and dashed off towards the road.
“Archy! No!” Andrew called.
Brian stopped the lead from spooling out and pulled back on it. “Get back here, you big bastard.”
The cat hissed, back arching, fur standing up, and strained against the harness. A moment later, a woman appeared from the far side of the hedge with a German Shepherd walking sedately at her side. The moment the big dog saw the cat, though, it whined and pulled back on the lead. His owner looked at Schrody and narrowed her eyes.
“Sorry, sorry,” Andrew called. He shoved his beer at Brian and dashed over to haul in their hell cat. Schrody let Andrew pick him up, but he kept up a steady rumble at his arch nemesis. “Leave Roger alone. We’ve spoken about this.”
“Cats should be kept indoors,” the woman snapped.
“He’s on a harness,” Brian pointed out from the step.
“Well, it wasn’t last time and it scratched up Roger’s face.”
“And now your dumb dog knows not to attack cats,” Brian muttered under his breath as Andrew gave her more assurances that Schrody wouldn’t get out again.
Thankfully, Roger’s continued whining encouraged them to move on fast and Andrew came back with a smugly purring cat half hidden in his shirt.
“That’s my special boy,” Brian cooed, scratching the cat’s back. “Roger might have started it, but you ended it.”
“He doesn’t need you encouraging him.” Andrew was about to say more but Schrody succeeded in getting all the way into his shirt, only to half fall out the bottom where it was untucked. Andrew got a mouthful of furry tail and the lead got tangled up in cat’s limbs and hi-viz material.
They went inside to sort it out before the cat strangled Andrew or himself. Once free, Schrody bounded off to check out the food bowl situation. Andrew, shirtless after detangling, stood there picking cat fur off his face and Brian forgot everything that was hanging over them. He was happy to see how well Andrew had recovered, that he had shape and definition again to his torso and arms, and his six-pack was slowly turning into an eight pack. His iliac furrows were now clearly sculpted and effortlessly directed the gaze towards to his groin. As did the thick line of golden hair that started as a swirl around his navel before heading straight down into the waistband of his work pants.
“Brian?” Andrew asked curiously.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” It was out before Brian even knew he was wondering about it.
“What? No.” Andrew spun away and stalked to the far side of the lounge room, then turned back and went into the kitchen. “What the hell, man? Who just asks that?”
Brian gaped at him. “I don’t know,” he snapped. “A guy whose best friend said he’s in love with him, maybe?”
“Jesus.” Andrew got another beer and unscrewed the cap but didn’t drink.
“I think it’s a fair question. I mean, you say you love someone and most of the time that means wanting to have sex with them. Sure, some people don’t and they have these asexual romances. I learned about them when we were covering sexuality and gender. They’re more prevalent than you think, but mostly people in love have sex with each other. You said you’re in love with me, ergo, you want to have sex with me.”
Andrew was staring at him wide eyed like he did when Brian got caught up in some fascinating—and usually gooey or gory—medical wonder and rambled. It made Andrew look innocent and a bit lost, and rather inviting. For a moment, Brian thought about kissing him. What would it be like? Would it really be any different from kissing a woman? There was stubble, yeah, but otherwise the pertinent anatomy was the same. Andrew would probably like a tongue in his mouth, and his lips sucked on. Would his earlobes be sensitive? Brian’s were, to an embarrassing degree.
He was moving forward without thinking. Right then all he knew was he wanted to know what it would be like to kiss a man. Well, no. He wanted to know what it would be like to kiss Andrew.
His friend, his best friend, watched him advance wide-eyed, mouth slightly open, lips curvy and plump and a healthy pink. In the dim interior light, the bristles of his pale five o’clock shadow were all but invisible but Brian’s lips tingled with the mere thought of how they would feel. Soft like the regrowth on his head had been, or prickly?
Oh fuck. He wanted desperately to kiss Andrew, and he was actually going to do it.
Panic gripped Andrew’s heart and he stepped back until he hit the fridge, putting as much space between them as possible. Brian stiffened and his intent expression flipped to confused, angry and upset in a matter of seconds.