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Jamie appeared in the makeup trailer shortly after noon and nearly asleep on his feet. Callum doubted very much he’d gotten more than a half hour of semi-unconsciousness on the plane back from Dublin to London. His hair was a mess, his freckles stood out against his pale skin, and there were dark circles under his eyes. The Irish complexion did not hide exhaustion, but Callum found the rumpled, sleepy-eyed look appealing in the extreme. Jamie wasn’t small or slight — he was quite solid, really, with the shoulders of a rugby player and a strong jaw — but seeing him this worn out by the world made Callum want to cuddle him close.
“You made it,” he said warmly in lieu of doing anything of the sort.
Jamie blinked as if he hadn’t even realized the other man was standing right there, but gratefully accepted the paper cup of coffee Callum pressed into his hands. He nodded as he drank and nearly choked on the scalding coffee in the process. “Thanks to you.”
“You’re the one who wanted to get home,” Callum teased.
“Yeah, but I couldn’t have asked. Wouldn’t have asked you to ask either.” Jamie stifled a yawn with his free hand. “So thank you.”
Callum hummed in acknowledgment.
Jamie blinked at him. Then seemed to startle. He dropped his hand. “Hey,” Jamie said quietly.
“What is it?” Callum prodded when Jamie didn’t say anything else. He leaned closer.
“Can we talk? Just us? Later?” Jamie asked, drawing out the words and the pauses between them. His pale cheeks were now streaked with a bright flush as if he were embarrassed.
“Of course,” Callum said easily, but as he straightened up, his thoughts were less calm than his outer appearance. Jamie’s request, although not unreasonable, was unclear. Was something wrong? Was Jamie upset? Callum wondered suddenly if Jamie were attempting to flirt. Helping Jamie get home to vote, whatever Thom might say, was one thing. A request for a just us talk might be another thing entirely. Or it might be nothing at all. “What about?”
“Nothing major. Just...I need to pick your brain about a thing. Yeah?”
“Sure. Tomorrow? After you’ve slept?” Jamie needed rest, but Callum also wanted the chance to call Nerea just in case there was a chance of something happening between him and this boy.
Jamie shook his head. “Tonight.”
Callum looked at him cautiously. Nerea wouldn’t mind hearing about whatever this was after the fact. She might even prefer it that way, although the lack of her good counsel would leave him at a disadvantage. He took a deep breath. “All right. If you think you can remain conscious.”
* * *
JAMIE, TO CALLUM’S amusement, didn’t even ask where they were going until they were already in the cab.
“My club.” Callum said. “If that’s all right?”
“Sure, yeah.” Jamie waved a hand, too tired to care where they went.
Still, Callum was grateful his club was hipper than some of its compatriots. Located in a small townhouse in Soho, its only oil paintings were ironic. Callum was fairly certain the massive deer head mounted on the wall in the entrance way was also ironic but had never chanced asking.
At the desk, Eloise — she of Thom's failed dating attempt — greeted them both with a tight smile before ushering them to the pub room.
“Do you want food or do you just want to drink?” Callum asked, as they were shown to their table. Or rather, as Callum sat down; Jamie seemed to melt into his chair as a puddle of weary boy.
“Not sure I’m awake enough to lift a fork.”
“Then you certainly won’t survive just drinking,” Callum said amiably with a hand to Jamie’s shoulder before going to the bar to order for the both of them.
The room, half full, was dark. In the far corner, nestled in a black leather banquette, a couple was on a date. Closer by, a collection of friends or business associates relaxed around a circular table. None of them paid the least bit of attention to Callum and Jamie.
“Thanks for taking the time to talk with me,” Jamie said when Callum returned to the table.
“Of course.” He still wasn’t sure why they were here, but he meant it, potential ulterior motives aside. He waited to say more, giving Jamie a chance to gather his thoughts. Jamie’s eyes glittered in the dark.
“Jamie,” Callum said when several long moments had passed without a word. “You’ve had an incredibly long day. Are you sure you want to do this tonight? I can get you home.”
“No, no. No. Thanks." Jamie sat up straighter. “I wanted to ask you. Well — I mean. I’m sorry if this is going make things awkward, but why did you help me get to Ireland? I know it wasn’t just me you helped, but it was because of me.”
“Not untrue.”
“So I keep trying to figure it out. And either you’re too nice to live— ”
“Hardly.”
“ — Or I have to ask this.”
“Go on.”
“Have you been flirting with me?”
Callum blinked mildly at him and took a sip of water. Before Jamie could do something like bolt in horror or start babbling apologies, he said, simply, “Yes.”
“Like — flirting flirting, or....” Jamie’s voice trailed off.
Callum raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you’re trying to ask, Jamie, spit it out.”
“I just wanted to know,” he said a little defensively. “You flirt. With me. And with everyone. Like. A lot. And there are rumors — and I know, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t listen to gossip, and I’m being horribly rude, and can we pretend I never asked to talk to you tonight?”
Callum shook his head. “Bit late now. What are you asking?” he said gently. “What do you need?”
Jamie looked like he hoped the floor would swallow him up but he soldiered on anyway. Callum admired the effort.
“Are you — maybe not totally straight?” Jamie asked.
“I’m married to a woman,” Callum said in a tone of wry amusement. Jamie was far too much fun to tease, even if it was probably cruel to do so.
“I know that.”
“And, like the tabloids we all call liars have occasionally said, I’ve had relationships with men. A lot of them. A few were even serious. Does that answer your question?”
Jamie swallowed. “Yeah,” he said. “Yes, I think so. I...sorry. Some people would have been insulted. By the question, I mean.”
“Some people don’t live in the twenty-first century or make very good dining companions,” Callum said lightly as their food arrived.
“I’m a horrible dining companion right now,” Jamie admitted, twitching his napkin onto his lap.
Callum shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Now, was there more to your question?” It was obvious that hadn't been all Jamie was after. At least Callum hoped not.
Jamie stared at his hands for a moment. “I’m not totally straight either. Which I assume you knew or guessed because of, well, the flirting. And not being totally straight, that’s always been fine? But that was before all this — the movie, I mean — and it’s going to be mad isn’t it?”
“It’s an experience the first time you see yourself twelve meters high on the side of a building, yes. Which is going to happen.” There were things about this situation that were not normal, but their respective sexualities were not among them.
“I meant the thing where I’m not straight.”
“Are you gay?” Callum was curious as to how Jamie identified and if he could make himself say it out loud.
“Bi,” Jamie half-squeaked. “And people are arseholes about that, you know?”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” Callum leaned close.
“What’s that?” Jamie leaned in too. Callum wondered if he even realized he was doing it.
“People are arseholes about everything,” Callum said. “And if you remember that, when they’re giving you trouble about who you date or anything in your life you don’t want to share with them, you’ll remember their judgments have nothing to do with you and it’s not your job to respond.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve known people were arseholes since I was a kid,” Jamie said.
“It doesn’t get better when you grow up, so congratulations to you.” Callum looked at the boy, who appeared even more uncertain than when they had first sat down, and decided to take pity on him. “How’s your family?”
Jamie relaxed at the question. With Callum’s assistance, the conversation turned to easier topics. But when he leaned forward to make some point and rested a hand on Jamie’s wrist on the table, Jamie asked, “Are you flirting with me now?”
Callum looked down at their hands and chuckled. “I suppose I am. But as you pointed out, I do with everyone. Flirting doesn’t have to have intent. It can just be a nice game. Or a diversion. Or a way to make someone else feel good. Which you probably know.”
“Maybe,” Jamie said cautiously.
Callum couldn’t resist playing coy. “So I guess my question is whether your question is about whether I’m flirting with intent.”
Jamie smiled. “Maybe.”
Callum made a decision. “Then I am absolutely flirting with intent. Do you want me to stop?”
A stunned smile bloomed on the boy’s face. “Uh. No. It’s okay.”
“Good.” Callum brushed his thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m glad.”
* * *
AN HOUR LATER JAMIE’S eyes shone a bit as Callum slid into the backseat of the cab next to him and pulled the door shut. Callum smiled at him when Jamie twined his fingers into his as soon as he touched the boy’s hand again. Jamie was an absolute wonder.
“Wait,” Jamie said, his eyes growing suddenly wide as the taxi pulled away from the curb.
“What is it?”
“What about your wife?”
“Points for asking, and it’s fine. I’ll explain when we’re not in a taxi.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay,” Jamie said, apparently mollified. He slumped sideways and leaned his head on Callum’s shoulder.
Callum’s breath caught in his chest. This was going to be absolutely marvelous.
* * *
“DO YOU WANT ANYTHING to drink?” Callum asked as they walked into the flat. He tossed his keys into a bowl on the coffee table and his jacket over the back of the armchair. Jamie unzipped his own coat slowly and laid it somewhat tentatively over Callum’s. “Coffee?”
Jamie squinted at him. “It’s almost midnight.”
“Were you not planning on staying up late?” Callum wasn’t going to stop flirting now.
Jamie gave him a shy smile.
Callum dialed back a notch, going for gentle over eager. “Tea, perhaps, then?” he offered. “Caffeine-free?”
“I’m just saying,” Jamie muttered, as Callum went to put the kettle on. “I wouldn’t need coffee to stay up late with you.”
Callum laughed with pleasure. Even if Jamie was shy, he wasn’t letting it stop him.
They settled next to each other on the sofa. Jamie seemed cautious of him, as if he didn’t quite know where to put his limbs. Finally, Callum set his mug down on the end table. Slowly so Jamie could pull away if he wanted, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Far from retreating, Jamie leaned into him even as he looked at Callum sideways.
“Not that I’m not enjoying,” he said. “But this is where you start talking about your wife. Because I’m tired, but I’m not that tired — and you’re good looking, but not that good looking — that I’m going to let it slide.”
Callum chuckled and retracted his arm. He scooted away from Jamie and shifted his body so they could have a proper face-to-face conversation as matters like this deserved. “Open relationship. Has been since pretty much always.”
“Whose idea was that?”
Callum appreciated the savvy question. He’d gone to bed with people in supposedly open relationships only to find out their partner didn’t quite agree, or that one or the other of them had been badgered into it. It was no fun to sleep with someone and find out later they hadn’t wanted him as much as they had wanted to use him as ammunition against someone else.
“It wasn’t really anyone’s,” Callum said. “It just was. She was seeing someone else when we met, I was carrying on appallingly, and our lives eventually consolidated. Then we got married. The relationships we had before we met changed, but they didn’t go away. Not right away, at any rate. They didn’t need to. We’re apart a lot, which we don’t love, but it is what it is. Better to know and to trust than not.”
It wasn’t the full story, of course, but it was still very early. Callum didn’t want to scare Jamie.
“Does she know about me, then?” Jamie asked.
“She knows you exist, of course. She doesn’t know I have you here tonight. I wasn’t sure what this was about when you asked, and I didn’t know if you were interested. I wasn’t even sure I was going to do anything about it if you were.”
“Can I talk to her? I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” Jamie hastened to add. “But I’d feel better. You’re hers first.”
“People don’t belong to people,” Callum said. “But you are a treasure.” He leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, and Jamie grinned sleepily at him. “Do you want us to call her now?” Callum wasn’t going to get laid tonight, when not even the twenty-four year old could stay awake. But he could still put in the groundwork. He was captivated by Jamie’s insistence on doing right by Callum and Nerea’s relationship.
“Yeah. If she’s awake?” Jamie said.
“She should be. She might be painting and ticked off I interrupted her, but she’ll be up.” Callum levered himself up from the couch to fetch his mobile.
By the time he had it open to Nerea’s number, Jamie’s head had tipped sideways on the arm of the couch. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling gently. He’d certainly earned that sleep.
Callum pocketed his mobile and knelt to gently work Jamie’s shoes off his feet. The boy didn’t even stir. He was utterly exhausted, and Callum felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t insisted on Jamie going to sleep sooner. When his shoes were off, Callum unfolded a blanket from the back of the sofa and tucked it in around him.
Once he was sure Jamie was settled, he padded past Nerea’s curtain into the bedroom. He undressed as quietly as possible, left his clothes puddled on the floor, and climbed into the sheets that smelled like Nerea’s perfume and their laundry detergent.
Callum smiled at the ceiling. His wife, who he loved and missed very much, was at their home in another country. The boy he was smitten with was asleep on their couch in this one. It wouldn’t look like contentment to most people, but Callum couldn’t have been happier. What would happen tomorrow, he didn’t know. But for now, he lay in the dark, listening to Jamie breathe, enjoying everything he had in this moment.