#*rpf

You click on the Youtube link in the email with a ridiculous smile. George’s face pops up immediately and you sigh, wishing he could be with you and not in some far off field in the middle of nowhere. He had been away for almost two months now and although you were talking on the phone and through texts and emails almost every day, it did not stop you wishing he was home again by your side.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you press play.

George leans back into his seat from turning the camera on and gives a little wave. His nervous half smile is enough to send your heart racing and you can’t help waving back.

“Hello,” he says and you want to hug your computer in the hopes that he might feel it wherever he is. “So it is a special someone’s birthday,” he is saying and you blush in spite of yourself. “And I cannot be there with them, as much as I want to, and so I am doing this for them. I know how much they love this song and I couldn’t think of a better one to express how I feel, so here goes. Happy birthday my darling, I love you.”

You feel the pin pricks behind your eyes as George picks up the guitar in his lap and begins to strum it. You recognise it immediately as This by Ed Sheeran.

“This is the start of something beautiful…”

You sway back and forth to the song, unaware that you are smiling through tears and you watch your perfect boyfriend serenade you from halfway across the world. As the song comes to an end, George blows the camera a kiss and blushes. This video is not private and you know he is thinking about all the not-you-people who are going to watch this video. George is shy enough as it is, so to post a video of him saying ‘I love you’ to someone and blowing them a kiss was no doubt a difficult thing for him to do and so you promise yourself not to tease him about his flushing cheeks when he returns.

Mat slipped when he saw him enter. Looking all fancy in his pin striped suit and papers tucked under his arm. He was squirting cream on a frappuccino at the time and the whipped cream went everywhere.

“What the fuck Mat?” Martha exclaimed as she checked her uniform to make sure he hadn’t got any on her.

“Shit sorry,” he said panicked. He finished topping up the drink, gave it to the person who ordered it, and then set about cleaning up the mess he’d made.

“How did you manage tha- OH,” Martha interrupted herself, seeing the answer to her question approaching her till. Mat ignored her knowing look and instead rinsed the cloth clean.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” he heard Martha say far too chirpily.

“Just a mocha please.”

Mat stifled a groan. That voice! All upper class and smooth that made you want to get your tongue in there and explore that mouth in the hopes of discovering the secret of its appeal. Martha waved the cup with the order written on it in Sharpie in front of his face, and Mat forced himself to pull together so that he could fill out the order.

“Hi,” he heard himself say as he set the machine.

“Hi,” the sexy silver fox of a customer (as Mat had named him) replied.

“Good day?”

“Not bad. You?”

“Fine thanks. Here’s your drink.” He handed over the mocha, careful not to touch sexy silver fox’s hand because he honestly didn’t believe he would survive. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

That was the extent of their conversation, and yet Mat lived for it every time the customer came. Although once Mat had sprained his wrist carrying a tray too heavy for him and spent a week in brace. The silver fox had asked if he was all right and when the brace had been taken off he had said he was pleased to see he was better. Mat had spent the rest of the day in a dreamland, much to Martha’s annoyance and everyone else’s amusement. His friends would sometimes come into the café to watch the bi-weekly encounter, giving Mat plenty of winks and nudges. He ignored them every time.

He did not know his name, but what he did know was that he came in every Monday and Wednesday, he worked in a corporate business because no one goes around dressed like that if they weren’t being paid well. He didn’t like whipped cream but liked to order something different every time he came in. He loved it when seasonal specials were available and he would try and get through them all before the limited time passed. He also liked classical music – Mat had heard it coming from his earphones once, and he had a habit of nibbling his bottom lip when he was reading through what Mat presumed was work papers.

A small stab of disappointment hit Mat when he realised the drink was to go and so the silver fox would not be staying. He had probably cottoned on to his oogling and didn’t want to hang around longer than he had to.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Martha snapped when Mat voiced his concerns. “You say that every time he gets a take away. He always comes back the next time with an extra large order and eats in.” Mat knew she was right. “Did you see the way he lingered after you handed him his coffee?” Her eyes twinkled. Mat shook his head. “He totally wanted to ask you something. Like your name, or out on a date!”

“Martha,” Mat said in a warning tone. Knowing you have no chance is one thing, but false hope is quite another. Martha rolled her eyes.

“Oh come on! How can you not see the way he looks at you? I have no doubt there are coffee shops closer to his work with better coffee that he could go to.” Mat mockingly gasped, holding his hand to his heart like she had insulted the feelings of the shop. She ignored him. “But no, he chooses to come here. He likes you. Ask him out.”

“No,” Mat said firmly.

“Do it.”

“No!”

“Do it do it do it!”

“No no no!”

Mat grabbed the cloth and ran to clear the tables before Martha could say anything else.

*

Silver fox waved when he entered the café. He fucking waved. Mat was already hyperventilating and he hadn’t even ordered yet. At least he was at the till and not making the drinks because he didn’t think he could have kept his hands steady enough to hold boiling hot liquid.

Martha took the opportunity of silver fox shaking out his wet umbrella and it getting caught in his coat to set Mat even more on edge.

“He waved at you. He wants you. For the love of god ask him out!”

In a panic Mat gestured for her to shut up as silver fox approached.

“Hi,” he breathed out.

“Hi,” the silver fox said. He then did something that Mat did not expect and leaned over the till to look at Mat’s name tag. “Mat.” A groan escaped Mat’s lips and he hoped to god the silver fox hadn’t heard it. “I’m Ben.”

Mat’s brain was on overdrive. Whizzing and whirling at the thought of a name. Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben, he kept saying over and over again in his head.

“What can I get you today… Ben,” he said mechanically.

“Um…” Ben scanned the board. “A large white hot chocolate please.” Mat didn’t bother to ask if he wants whipped cream on top.

“Eat in or take away?”

“Take away please. I have a big meeting to get back to and I need something warm and delicious to get me through it,” he added by way of an explanation. Mat managed a smile as he got the price up on the till and took the money, as always careful not to touch Ben’s skin.

“Horrible weather we are having today,” Ben said conversationally as he searched for a twenty pence piece in his wallet.

“Hmm,” Mat agreed, not trusting himself to say anything more.

“It’s a good thing the sun is always shining in here.” The way Ben said that was suggestive and Mat blushed to his ears. There was a squeak beside him and Mat saw Martha crouch down and hide behind the till covering her mouth.

“He means you,” she mouthed as Mat got a take away cup and wrote on Ben’s order. “Ask him out ask him out ask him OUT!”

Mat gave her a kick and she responded with a punch to the shin.

“Ow!”

Ben frowned and Martha reappeared with an innocent expression.

“So sorry Mat I didn’t see you there.” She rose her eyebrows at Mat.

I couldn’t ask him out, Mat thought, I’ve only just learnt his name. He doesn’t like me. But then what if he does? What if we spend all our time tiptoe-ing around each other until it is too late. Oh god I am thinking too much about this. Quickly he scribbled his number on the paper take away cup and handed it to Martha before he could think any more about it. She positively beamed at him.

I am going to get fired for this, he thought to himself. I am going to get fired, I am going to get fired, I am going to get fired.

*

“I got fired,” Mat said to his friends the next day. They had decided to convene in the café to discuss the clichéd phone-number-on-the-cup situation when Mat had been called to the boss’s office. “Apparently it’s against our contract to ask customers out on dates.” He threw his no-longer-needed apron on the table and took the seat next to Larry.

“How did he even know?” asked Jim crossly. Everyone turned to Martha, who was on her break.

“Hey don’t look at me,” she said offended. “The last thing I want is Mat gone. It won’t be nearly as much fun working here without you.” She squeezed Mat’s arm. “I will try and make Greg see sense, tell him he is being unreasonable, I promise.” Mat gave her a small appreciative smile.

“Thanks. And no it wasn’t her,” he said to everyone else. “He saw the cup when Ben left and recognised my handwriting.”

“It’s not fair” said Simon with a frown. “It’s not like you just want a shag. You genuinely like this guy.” Mat shrugged.

“And it was all for nothing,” said Mat, resting his chin on the table. “Ben didn’t even call.”

As if on cue, Mat’s phone rang. It was an unknown number.

“Oh blithering fuck balls,” Mat hissed as he flailed his arms in a panic and almost hit Larry in the face.

“Well answer it then, you twat,” Martha said impatiently. Mat hit the green button.

“H-hello?”

“Hello, Mat is this you?” It was Ben. Mat nodded to confirm what all his friends were thinking. They all leaned in closer, straining to hear. Mat frowned but they did not back away.

“Yes.” Mat’s chest was shrinking. He couldn’t breathe. He kept balling his hands into fists and then releasing them.

“You left your number on my cup.”

“Yes.”

“I…” Ben’s voice sounded strained. “I need to know why.”

“I thought… I hoped you might call,” Mat stammered, frowning.

“Why?” Ben pushed.

“Because… because I like the way you smile at me every time you come into the shop okay?” he gushed. “I like the way you don’t stick to the same order, I like the way you nibble your bottom lip when you are thinking, and I like the way your shoes are shinier than your cufflinks. Because I lost my job because of you and because I didn’t sleep at all last night when you didn’t call thinking I had made a big mistake. Because I count down the days until I see you again and hope every time that you order to eat in so I have that little bit longer with you. Because I like you.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Mat swerved round, dropping his phone. Ben was standing behind him smiling. All Mat’s friends stared at him open mouthed. Ben outstretched his hand and, unaware of what he was doing, Mat took it. Ben eased him to his feet and pulled him a few steps away from the table his friends sat on.

Gently, Ben brought Mat’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

“I had to be sure,” he said apologetically. “I’ve misunderstood before and… I had to be sure.”

It took Mat some time to piece together the words, he was still having a panic attack that the fact that Ben had kissed his hand!

“I have to get back to work,” Ben said regretfully and Mat let out a groan. He kissed Mat’s hand once more and then let go and walked away. Mat stared after him. Ben froze mid-stride half way to the door.

“Did you just say you lost your job for me?” he asked.

“Er… yeah, kind of,” Mat said, rubbing the back of his head. “Apparently it isn’t appropriate to give your phone numbers to customers.” Ben frowned.

“Could I do anything? Have a word with your boss maybe?”

Mat smiled, it was sweet of Ben to think of that.

“Nah, our boss is a push over. Martha will get it back for me.” He gestured vaguely to his group of friends. Ben did not look overly convinced. “You can focus on calling me.”

Ben grinned at that, and Mat couldn’t help but grin back. He felt like he was on cloud nine and wasn’t going to come down any time soon. Screw the job, some things are more important.

Ben gave him a wave as he backed to the door.

“What are you wearing?” you splutter out between gasps of laughter and shock.

“A Father Christmas costume,” Larry says with dignity, looking down at himself as if he needs to check. He walks from the front door where he has just come through to the sofa that you are sitting on. He leans over the back of it and whispered into your ear, “perhaps we could go to the bedroom and I’ll show you what’s in my sack.”

“Oh god!” You cannot suppress the laughter any more. You pull away from him and hide your face in your hands as you giggle. When you look up again you see the face of a kicked puppy so you do your best to look sorry. “Sorry love,” you say, stroking his cheek, “but you must see how creepy this is?” Larry recoils.

“Your dad didn’t dress up as Santa when you were younger did he?”

“Oh god no!” You look horrified at the thought. You shake the image away. “What I mean is, you think that dressing up as an old, fat man with a bushy white beard and red velvet suit is going to turn me on! Do you really not know me?” Larry sighed and shrugged, but somehow you don’t believe his actions.

“I guess I might as well take this off then,” he sighs, and he takes off his cotton wool beard.

You wolf whistle. “Woo, yeah. Off, off, off,” you chant as you clap along. Larry takes the encouragement and begins to strip, tugging the hat off first and swinging it around in the air before throwing it to the side.

“Der ner ner ner ner ner,” he sings, attempting the stripper tune as he kicks off his boots. You give another cheer. Larry gives a little wiggle of the bum before reaching behind himself and gripping the top half of his costume at his shoulder blades. He pulls and the whole thing comes off in one swift action.

You marvel at the delicious bare chest that is left behind and take no shame in ogling it greedily. The removal of the jacket reveals a pair of braces that you assume is holding up the red velvet trousers. You so badly want to ping them against his chest. But you resist.

Larry is still singing the stripper tune, sort of, as he takes hold of his trousers at the thighs and pulls.

You snort and then cheer and Larry gives a final model pose.

“Of course I knew you would prefer something a little sexier than a Santa outfit.”

You beam as you drink in Larry’s state. The ridiculous Father Christmas outfit is gone and what is left behind is a sort of sexy fireman-meets-Christmas outfit that you cannot wait to get him out of. All he is wearing is a pair of red shorts being held up (unnecessarily considering how tight they are) by some matching red braces.

~~1

It started with a drunken kiss. They were at a pub one night and had a few too many, and after his advances to the bar man was rejected; Larry turned his attentions to the man sitting next to him.

“He doesn’t know what he is missing out on,” Larry said in a barely audible slur.

“Probably thinks he is too good to be gay,” replied Simon as he knocked back another vodka and coke.

“I could have turned him,” Larry grumbled, “I would have turned on the old Rickard charm and he would have been batting for the other team in no time.”

Simon choked on his drink as he laughed. “The old Rickard charm?” he mocked.

“Yes the old Rickard charm!” Larry knew Simon too well to be properly offended but still there was no need to sound so surprised.

“Go on then,” Simon said amused, “turn it on me.” Larry pursed his lips to show he had accepted the challenge. He sat upright and shifted slightly so that he was at an angle to accentuate his profile in the dimly lit room. He puffed his chest out and leaned casually on the bar, just about holding his balance so not to slip off. He then eyed Simon up and down for a moment, hovering over his arse as his mind undressed him.

Simon could see Larry was watching him intently and suddenly felt exposed under his glare. He took another shot of vodka and noticed how Larry watched him drag his tongue across his lips. Then, slowly, Larry leaned in and whispered into Simon’s ear a series of sweet nothings that made Simon’s hairs stand on end.

Their eyes met.

Larry went to pull away but Simon grabbed hold of his collar and pressed a harsh kiss onto his lips. He retracted quickly with the intention to apologise for his behaviour, but when Larry pulled a smug grin, Simon went in for a second snog. There was more passion and desperation than before. Simon’s hands were all over Larry’s body, ready to strip him then and there on the table.

“Not here,” Larry breathed. It was only then that Simon had realised Larry had not stopped him, and with the raspy way he had spoken Simon was certain he wanted this too.

“Where then?”

“My place,” Larry replied, practically dragging him by the arm to the street where they caught a taxi to Larry’s apartment.

~~2

The next day at work was an awkward one. The events of the night before were vivid in Larry's mind after he had woken up with Simon wrapped around him. They had talked over some very strong coffee and agreed it was a very drunken one night stand and they would not mention it again. Simon went home to change and they arrived on set separately like nothing had happened.

  But although they did not talk of it, they could still think about it, and more than once Larry caught Simon looking at him from across the room with a puzzled expression. He'd blush and quickly turn away mostly, but occasionally he would hold the gaze and it would be Larry whose cheeks turned red.

The glances and half smiles went unnoticed by the rest of the cast and soon the lust died down.

Or so Larry thought.

It was just over a week since the incident happened and Larry was about to film a hospital sketch where he played a doctor, when Simon creeped up behind him.

"Nice outfit." Larry did not know he was there until he spoke and he jumped out of his skin.

"Um thanks," he replied, checking that no one else picked up on the message between the lines.

"I have to say, if you were my doctor I'd never leave the hospital."

Larry swallowed hard.

"Uh huh."

"Actually, I've got some ailments right now if you want to check them out?" He gave a devilish grin. Larry's mind was racing. That night he had wanted Simon, yes, but they were drunk and stupid and nothing had been said since. Now all of a sudden Simon was flirting with him and it took all of his concentration not to take him then and there.

"Err-"

"Larry we are ready for you," called the director from the middle of the set, between the hospital bed and curtain where Larry was supposed to be. Reluctantly Larry backed away from Simon's advances and did his best to get through the scene without letting his own arousal shine through.

  When the day was over, he collected his things and got in his car. Whilst searching for his keys, he automatically checked his phone for messages. He had two; one from his sister about coming down for the weekend as they had planned, and the other was from Simon.

My place. Tonight.

  For a second time Larry found himself waking up with Simon beside him. Again they talked it over not-quite-as-strong-as-before coffee and again agreed there was no need for anybody to know about this. But this time there was no suggestion that this was a mistake or a one off, and as Larry left early so he could be in clean clothes for work, he saw the glint in Simon’s eye that said this wasn’t over.

And it wasn’t.

  ‘My place’ became the code for sex. To start off with it was only occasionally, mostly when one saw the other in a particularly attractive costume. But without them realising it, the meetings got more frequent. They did not mind however, it did not interrupt their work or personal lives; they were not dating so there were no commitments or obligations they had to abide to. And the sex, oh god the sex was good! They were just friends with benefits and it suited them fine.

“Fuck buddies,” Simon explained when he and Larry were discussing it one night in bed (Simon had dressed as Caligula that day).

“Yeah, I suppose we are,” Larry mused as he sipped his can of beer.

From that night on, Simon insisted calling Larry his ‘buddy’ whenever he could, no matter who else was there. He had gotten some strange looks from the others the first time he had said it, not that he noticed. Larry had just shrugged at his friends’ puzzled looks and prayed they didn’t pick up on the way Simon had run his fingers down his arm.

  Some time later, the guys decided to go for a drink in the pub after the day’s filming. Jim couldn’t make it as he was redecorating the house with his wife, so Mat, Ben, Larry, and Simon trundled off without him, and were soon lightheaded by the alcohol.

One of the scenes they had filmed that day had been Ben as a head master with a whip. Being the reserved and bashful type, Simon had to tease Ben just a little about it.

“Let me guess, that whip was from your own private collection. I bet you are a big fan of whips in the bedroom.” He dug his elbow into Ben's ribcage.

“Of course not, that’s not my thing.” Larry couldn’t decide if Ben's rosy cheeks were caused by the alcohol or the conversation.

“What do you mean ‘not your thing’? Are you telling me that there is no aspect of kinky sex that turns you on?” The colour went from rosy to beetroot – it was definitely the conversation.

“I just – um – er – well maybe – um,” Ben spluttered, “my sex life is none of your business,” he said at last.

“Come on, if we were women we would talk about these things nonstop!” Larry wasn’t quite sure if that proved Simon’s point, but he couldn’t help joining in.

“Mat practically is a woman,” he added, receiving a kick from Mat under the table.

“I’ll start us off,” Simon beamed, not in the least bit shy or afraid to divulge his desires. “I like roleplay.”

“You do that for a living,” exclaimed Ben.

“Well why else do you think I took this job?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Mat and Ben shrunk away from the images that were forming in their minds. Larry, on the other hand, had to cross his legs to hide any activity that he was afraid may start going on there.

“I like using food,” piped up Mat. Simon thumped him on the back.

“Ah yes, nothing better than some chocolate sauce and whipped cream.”

Ben scratched the back of his head awkwardly and cleared his throat as he said, “I… I quite like dirty talk.” Mat pulled an approving face.

“With a posh voice like that I can understand why it would work.”

And then all eyes turned to Larry.

“Oh, erm… well… I've never really done it, but I like the idea of using handcuffs.”

“Use ties,” winked Mat, “they are more comfortable than cuffs.”

“OKAY!” Ben put his hands up in surrender. “Can we talk about something else now please, before we turn into the male version of Sex and the City?”

~~3

It was the Tuesday after the night at the pub, and the next time Larry and Simon organised to spend the night together. It was Larry’s turn to go round Simon’s, and it was a cold day so he had come in an infinite number of layers. As he stripped off the first few layers in the bedroom, intending to leave the rest for his lover, he spotted Simon hovering by the door with a magnificent glint in his eye.

“What?” Simon turned slightly bashful.

“Well…” He produced a pair of handcuffs from behind his back and grinned.

“Oh,” was all Larry could say.

“I know Mat said to use ties, but I thought we could do it the traditional way first and then get a bit more experimental later.”

Larry did not have to be told twice. He dived at Simon, clutching at his shirt and pulling him on top of him, working at those buttons like it was an insult for them to be done up. He could feel Simon grinning against his lips, and then without warning he felt cold metal on his wrist as his arm was force upward. He looked up to see Simon handcuffing his hand to the bedpost. He didn’t resist as Simon did the same with the other hand. Aroused, he watched as Simon climbed on top of him, teasing him by lightly stroking his cheekbone.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

  And it didn’t stop with handcuffs. They went from handcuffs to ties, to sex toys to food, even to Simon’s biggest turn on - role play, stealing costumes from work to fuel their fun.

  And so it was, two people meeting a few times a week for sex. Friends with benefits. Lovers. Fuck buddies. And still no one at work new. Larry had wondered once or twice if they suspected, but he told himself he was being paranoid.

  His worry was put to ease when, one day after work, Jim approached him as he was getting his make-up removed.

“How can I help you, your highness?” Jim had been filming a George the fourth sketch and so took the joke in good jest.

“I have brought you great news my loyal and dear friend.”

“Oh yes?” Jim stopped with the mockery and tried to look serious.

“Now don’t say no straight away-“

“No.” Jim pulled a face and persevered.

“I have this friend-“

“No.”

“He came over the other day and saw a photo I have of us. He liked the look of you. I told him about you and he asked me to give you his number.”

“Oh Jim no please!”

“Why not?” This was the second time in a row Larry had batted away a date offer away from Jim and this concerned Jim greatly, because he never had refused a date before. “Well?” Larry knew exactly why he had had this sudden change of heart, but the thought scared him and so he pushed it away.

“No, you’re right, why not.”

“Good,” Jim grinned in a tongue-in-cheek way, “because I told him to call you tonight.”

~~4

Friday’s day of filming was exhausting. They had filmed a song with a dance routine that they could only just keep up with. “We’re actors not dancers!” Ben liked to remind Caroline every time he got told off for doing something wrong. The final outcome was rather haphazard and awkward, but it was good enough for a children’s show so eventually ‘a wrap’ was called and everyone retreated to the makeup and costume room to get changed.

“We are never doing anything like that again,” said Jim flatly.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it a little bit,” grinned Mat.

“Not all of us want to be rock stars Mat. Some of us are happy to play a Simon Cowell style grim reaper judging stupid deaths.” Simon pulled his wig off and ruffled his hair whilst looking in the mirror.

There were a couple of minutes of silence as everyone caught their breath and made themselves look presentable. Larry had swapped places with Simon, looking in the mirror fussing with the blobs of glue they used to stick false beards on with. He swore as he started the tedious business of picking out all the bits of glue.

“Oh yeah,” Jim grinned, “you are going to want to shower if you want all that out by tonight.”

“Ooh what’s going on tonight?” asked Mat, loving a bit of gossip. Larry tensed up, sneaking a side glance at Simon, but when he caught his gaze he quickly looked down at his feet.

“Out.”

“He’s got a date.” Jim was acting like a proud father, and did not pick up on the fact that Larry clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

“Ooh! Who with?” Mat gave Larry an encouraging nudge. He tried to smile in return.

“Just some guy.”

“A friend of mine,” beamed Jim.

“Ah, another one of yours eh Jim?” The others knew Jim occasionally tried to set people up. He thought he was a real life cherub. “What’s he like?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t had the date yet have I?” Larry snapped.

“Sorry I was only asking,” murmured Mat, surprised and wounded by Larry’s attack. Larry knew he had crossed a line, but he didn’t apologise. He didn’t want to explain why the thought of this date made him angry and defensive.

  They all finished getting ready in silence and, one by one, left, saying their goodbyes to who was still in the room. When Ben finally finished tying his shoelace, he stood, making it clear he was going and would be leaving Larry and Simon alone together.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said pleasantly.

“Bye,” Larry and Simon said in unison. Ben disappeared down the corridor, and a thick awkward atmosphere settled in the small room. Simon cleared his throat.

“So, you’ve got a date tonight.”

“Yup.” It was a statement more than a question but Larry felt he needed to say something.

“You never told me.” If anyone were to walk in on them, they would have assumed they were just two friends having a normal conversation with the indifferent way Simon was speaking. But Larry knew that by the way Simon couldn’t quite make eye contact with him that this date bothered him, and Larry wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

“Sorry, Jim was pushing me and this thing that we have-”

“No, it’s fine. Like we said, no strings attached.” He hesitated. “Wear your pastel blue shirt, I always liked you in that.”

Larry could almost hear his heart being suffocated by the emotions that were welling up inside of him. He had believed, hoped, that Simon wasn’t happy about this date, but he truly didn’t seem to care. I was kidding myself that he could feel that way about me, he thought. Air, he needed air. Scrambling to get all his things, he mumbled a quick goodbye and stumbled to the car park.

As soon as he got to his car, Larry hit his head on the wheel and began to sob. He felt horrible, like his lungs had tangled around his heart and were causing him so much pain. His mind was all over the place, he couldn’t think straight. He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? No. So why was it hurting so much? Like Simon had said, it was a no strings attached agreement. Why did his heart have to get involved?

~~5

Larry didn’t know how long he had been crying in his car, but it had made him sleepy so a gentle rat-a-tat-tat on the window startled him. Ben’s frowning face was looking down at him through the glass. He wiped his wet cheeks and runny nose on his sleeve as he winded down the window.

“You alright mate?” With swollen red eyes and a croaky voice, there was no point Larry denying anything anymore.

“Not really, no.” Ben looked sympathetic.

“Tell you what, if you give me a lift home, you can tell me all about it and I will see what I can do.” Larry leant over the other side and opened the passenger side door. Ben climbed in and patted Larry’s shoulder.

“What are you doing out this late anyway? You left before I did!”

“I got caught by that camera man that likes to chat.” He then pulled a guilty face. “I saw your car and hoped you would give me a lift. It looked like it was going to rain.” As he said this, a few splashes of rain plopped on the windscreen. Larry switched on the windscreen wipers and pulled out into the main road. “So?” Larry teared up again. No! You can’t cry whilst driving, you’ll crash. Hold yourself together! His grip on the steering wheel got tighter.

“It’s, erm, it’s Simon. We’ve sort of been seeing each other.”

“Oh!”

“Well not seeing each other,” he gushed, “sort of friends with benefits.” Simon’s voice rang out in Larry’s head, fuck buddies, he half smiled at the thought.

“Oh,” Ben said again. He clearly did not know how to respond and was desperately trying to stop the images forming in his mind. “H-how long have you…” he made a gesture to try and explain what he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“A few months.”

“Oh.” Ben looked horribly wide eyed and pale. The images must have broken through his defences and now they would not shake. “What happened?”

“It’s this date.” Larry swallowed the lump in his throat. “We always agreed this was a no strings attached thing, if someone else came along and we wanted to end it then that was fine.”

“So what’s the problem?” Larry opened his mouth to answer, but then just gave a big sigh and shut it again. Ben answered for him. “It’s not Jim’s friend that you want to be on the date with is it?” Larry shook his head, feeling the lump in his throat once more. “You know what you have to do then don’t you?”

“What?” Larry sniffled.

“Well firstly you need to cancel your date. It’s not fair to him or you if you string him along, be honest and he will understand. Then you do what normal people do when they like someone, ask Simon out on a date.” It sounded so easy when Ben said it, and yet the thought turned Larry into a nervous wreck.

“Thanks for the lift,” said Ben as Larry pulled up outside his flat. “Just think about what I said.” And with a sympathetic smile he ran from the car to his porch to avoid getting soaked.

Larry’s mind was completely void of any conscious thought as he drove home. He focused on the road and the rain, on which direction to turn and what colour the traffic lights were, and he soon arrived home. Like Ben, he legged it to the house and unlocked the door. There was a bowl on the radiator cover and he threw his keys into it, a trick he had learnt from a TV advert so that he always knew where they were, and kicked his shoes off. Only then did he allow his brain talk to him about the situation he was in. The first thing he did was grab the house phone and dial the number on a scrap of paper he had written down a few days before.

“Hello?”

“Malcolm? Hi, it’s Larry.”

“Oh hello. What’s up?” Larry could hear the reservation in Malcolm’s voice. Nobody called their date a few hours before except to cancel it. It was a shame really; he seemed like such a nice person when they had spoken on the phone the day Jim had sprung it on him. He certainly had a lovely voice, deep and charming, it reminded Larry of Rupert Penry-Jones. Now, if I ever had a chance with him! When they had spoken, Larry had learnt a fair amount about him. He was a primary school teacher, and had been for seven years. He enjoyed the usual; music, beer, and sport. He had met Jim through the marriage of Jim’s sister and his brother and they had formed quite a strong friendship. He had been single for over a year and was looking for someone he could have fun with, but with the possibility to settle down with later on. He was the complete package really, and yet he was not the one Larry wanted.

“I'm going to have to cancel tonight, something came up, sorry.”

“That’s okay, some other time perhaps?” Ben's words rang out in Larry’s head. Be honest, don’t string him along.

“Maybe not.” Larry rubbed his forehead, it ached terribly. “You see the thing is, there is someone else.”

“Oh.”

“Jim didn’t know, he still doesn’t. I'm so sorry for leaving it until now to say this, I was unsure of how I felt about it all and-” Malcolm cut him off.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, I understand. I'm just glad you told me this before the date.” Larry could hear the smile in his voice and a weight lifted from his shoulders.

“Um, I hate to ask this, but like I said, Jim doesn’t know about this and I'm not ready for him to know yet. Would it be unfair to ask you to keep my reasons to yourself for now?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.”

There was a pause.

“I can’t deny I am a little disappointed,” said Malcolm, “you do look rather dashing in your photograph.” Larry laughed, a proper laugh, he hadn’t felt this at ease since Jim proposed this date.

“Sadly I can’t say the same for you as I do not know what you look like, but in my mind you are on par with Rupert Perry Jones.” Malcolm sucked air through his teeth, making an ‘eek’ sound.

“Then it is probably for the best that we never meet, for you would have been bitterly disappointed.” They laughed again. “It was very nice not meeting you Larry.”

“You too.”

“Goodbye, and good luck with your secret man!” And with that, the conversation ended.

~~6

By Monday Larry had hoped the excitement of his blind date would have died down, but he was not so fortunate. No sooner had he stepped into make-up had Jim pounced on him with questions.

“So, how did you like Malcolm?” Larry felt guilty; Jim had been so pleased to set up this date.

“I couldn’t go,” he mumbled. “Something came up. Family thing.”

“What?” Simon snapped his head round, his hands gripping tightly on the back of the chair Mat was sitting on. Larry was taken aback by the way he stared at him. Everyone gave Simon a questioning glance, except Ben, who’s expression was full of sympathy and understanding. Simon realised how odd he had sounded and tried to laugh it off. “Don’t tell me you stood him up?”

“Of course not!” Larry was offended that Simon could think he was possible of that. “I called him to cancel and we talked. It was sweet of you to set me up Jim but I am just not looking for anyone right now.”

“No problem, I did kind of push you into it.”

The conversation steered towards the script of the day and Larry soon got back into the rhythm of acting after an emotional rollercoaster of a weekend.

  “So?” said Ben when he finally cornered Larry on the way to the cafeteria during the lunch break.

“So what?” Larry could tell by the way Ben kept looking at him during the day and trying to get him to come with him on an errand and getting annoyed when others tagged along that he wanted to talk to him. He could also guess what it was about, and he really wasn’t in the mood for it.

“Please tell me you saw how Simon reacted when you said how you hadn’t been on your date?”

“He accused me of standing someone up.” He was still sore about that. Ben rolled his eyes.

“He was just trying to cover himself. He was relieved. You obviously haven’t asked him out yet, but you better do it soon before I bash your heads together.” With a shrug of his arms, Ben left leaving Larry to mull over what he had said. He was right of course, if you liked someone, and he did like Simon, he allowed himself to think for the first time, then you had to tell them how you felt if you intended to take it further. He couldn’t go back to the fuck buddies thing, he just couldn’t. It would hurt too much to know it meant nothing Simon. And if what Ben said was true, there may be a slight possibility that Simon liked him back! A knot tightened in Larry’s stomach.

  He was going to do this. There will be no Great British Bake Off for you tonight if you don’t; Larry scolded himself as he psyched himself up for what was inevitably going to be a fall. No, not a fall, you don’t know that yet.

He could see Simon at the end of the corridor, his bag over his shoulder as he chatted casually with Martha. All he had to do was to walk down there, join them, and then hang around until they separated, leaving him and Simon alone.

So why wouldn’t his legs move?

Stop being such a coward and get on with it, he shouted to himself, and with one great effort, he began to walk down the corridor towards the man he wished to talk to. Martha smiled at him as he approached so he smiled back. And then proceeded to walk straight past them.

Coward! Shut up this is harder than it looks. Well you’ve missed your chance now haven’t you? I’ll do it tomorrow. No you won’t and you know you won’t. You are going to be pining after him forever whilst he finds someone else and falls in love and gets married and- Shut up shut up shut UP!

So wrapped up in the conversation with himself, Larry did not hear someone call his name from behind him. He jumped as he felt a hand thump him on the shoulder.

“Shit Simon, you scared me half to death!” Simon would have been amused had he not been trying to catch his breath after chasing Larry, who walked surprisingly fast when he wanted to!

“Just thought how you were leaving so I might as well join you.”

“Riiight.” There was an awkward silence. Do it, do it now, the voice in Larry’s head was saying. I can’t. Why not? It’s not the right time. It will never be the right time. But it is just so awkward! You are always going to feel awkward if you don’t.

“I'm sorry that your date didn’t work out,” Simon mumbled, digging his hands into his jeans pockets.

“I feel more sorry for Malcolm, he sounded like an alright guy, I shouldn’t have agreed to the date if I had no intention of going.” Simon knotted his eyebrows together.

“I thought you said something unavoidable came up and you had to cancel?”

“Oh, erm, yeah, I may have twisted the truth a little bit there.” Larry cursed under his breath; he hadn’t meant to say that. Simon waited for an explanation. “I wasn’t really looking forward to the date and I talked to a friend about it and he made me realise it wasn’t what I wanted and it wasn’t fair to string Malcolm along, so I cancelled it before anyone got hurt.”

“Oh.” Simon kicked a small stone as they walked towards the car park. “Sounds like you need to have some fun.” He then half laughed like he was only joking when he said, “I don’t suppose you fancy coming back to my place tonight?” Larry’s heart was in his throat.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. Stupid of me to suggest it. Sorry.”

“No, no!” Larry placed his hand on Simon’s chest, and then withdrew it immediately the moment he was conscious of it. He then stood still and straightened his back to emphasise that he was about to make a point. “I don’t want to go back to your place because I don’t want to do this fuck buddies thing anymore.” Simon was visibly taken aback by the bluntness of Larry’s words.

“Fine. I- Fine.” Simon began to walk towards his car looking shocked and confused. Larry only then realised how what he just said sounded like and slapped his forehead.

“No, wait, wait.” He chased Simon, who had stopped in his path but not turned around. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He placed his hand on Simon’s chest again, but this time did not remove it. “What I meant so say was; I don’t want to do this fuck buddies thing anymore, because I want more. I want a proper relationship. With you,” he added, just to make sure Simon understood what he was trying to say.

After an agonising pause Simon said, “I want that too.” Larry slowly began to grin, a smile that Simon matched immediately. His words sunk in and there was only one way Larry could respond to them. He clapped his hands on either side of Simon’s face and stood on tiptoes so he could kiss his man on the mouth. Simon wrapped his arms around Larry’s body, wanting to stay like that forever, safe and wanted in Larry’s arms. In need of air, they broke apart with flushed faces and swollen lips.

“Sorry about, er, not being clear at first. I should probably practise trying to explain feelings and not insulting the person I have feelings for.” Simon chuckled.

“Well I was surprised. I didn’t think the sex was that bad!” Larry mockingly tapped his chin with his finger and looked thoughtful.

“Was it that great? I'm not so sure…” Simon raised an eyebrow.