Work Text:
Lucas restocks the olives in the display counter as he nods along to Cindy’s list of complaints.
The bell above the door interrupts Cindy’s droning voice with a bright chime. Lucas looks up from his work, catching sight of Misbah and Imran stepping through the door to the deli, followed by a taller boy. Lucas can only catch glimpses of a leather jacket and fluffy black hair before he lowers his eyes back to the olives.
“Hiya, Misbah,” Ste shouts from behind the till at the other end of the shop. “Lucas can take your order if Cindy is finished,” he says in a chipper voice, giving Cindy a fake smile.
“Bye, boys,” Cindy says, backing away with a dry smile in return.
Lucas wipes his hands against his apron, meeting the stranger’s deep brown eyes as the three of them step up to the counter. His heart stutters as he looks across at the boy, undeniably pretty, all smooth brown skin, smudged eyeliner, and rings on every finger.
Lucas’s eyes slide down to the muscles of the boy’s chest beneath his mesh shirt and black studded jacket. He flicks his eyes back up to see a smirk forming at the edges of the boy’s mouth.
“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, wishing he could meet this boy in anything other than his blue polo and apron uniform.
“Hey, I’m Dillon,” the boy says, cocking his head to the side with a smile. “Can I get a menu?”
“Of course.” Lucas pulls one free from the stack and passes it over. Ste slips back into the kitchen, leaving Lucas with their customers as he prepares the next batch of pizza dough.
Lucas grabs one of the cloths to wipe down the counter as Misbah, Imran, and Dillon bend their heads together, crowding around the menu.
“Is there anything that you want to try?” Misbah asks, putting a hand on Dillon’s back. Lucas wonders why Dillon is here, now, when he has never seen him before. He worries his lip and tries not to stare at the new boy, pushing down the feeling of giddy nerves.
“I want garlic pesto pizza,” Dillon murmurs.
“Three medium pizzas, one margarita, one garlic pesto, and one veggie feast,” Imran says, taking the menu from Dillon and passing it back over the display counter.
Lucas nods, sliding the menu back into place and scribbling down the order on his pad of paper. “Anything else?” he asks, watching Imran nudge Dillon forward with his elbow.
Dillon licks his lips before answering. “Y- um… a bottle of sprite?” Dillon’s cool facade falters as he stumbles over his words.
“Yeah,” Lucas says, noting it down. He grabs one from the mini fridge and hands it over, Dillon’s warm hand brushing his across the cool condensation of the bottle.
Lucas turns away with a flushed face. Through the serving hatch he can see Ste shaping the dough with practiced ease.
“One Margarita, one garlic pesto, and one veg feast,” Lucas calls out.
Ste nods, pulling the dough taught across the work surface. “Coming right up.”
Lucas turns back around, surprised to see Dillon still standing there, eyes a little wide and holding the damp bottle to his chest.
“It’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Lucas says, typing the cost into the till. “That’s thirty four pounds and seventy five pence.” Lucas rattles off, looking up in time to spot Dillon’s eyes trailing over him once again.
“Oh,” Dillon startles, as if not expecting any of this to cost money.
“I’ll pay,” Misbah says, pushing past Dillon with her wallet already in hand.
By the time Lucas has rung her up, Dillon and Imran have made themselves at home on the benches at the front of the shop, heads bent together, voices drowned out by the pop music playing over the deli’s speakers.
Lucas lets out a sigh, returning to his restocking. As the music trails from one song to the next, a shadow crosses over the counter. Lucas looks up and almost startles at the sudden appearance of a sheepish looking Dillon pushing his fluffy hair out of his face.
“Hi,” Lucas starts, faltering. “Did you need something?” There’s something about Dillon’s eyes that makes his breathing falter.
“Um, not-” Dillon cuts himself off. “I was just wondering, if we’re the same age, maybe you could show me around the village some time? My cousin’s showed me some stuff but apparently you’re the expert.”
Lucas nods. “Oh, yeah. I mean when I’m not at work, I could show you.”
“Yeah?” A smile lights up Dillon’s face.
Lucas reaches for something to say. “Do you-”
“Here you go!” Ste says, coming up beside Lucas and presenting Dillon with a stack of three pizza boxes. “Hot from the oven.”
The moment dissipates as Dillon takes the boxes and turns to leave. Lucas slips into the kitchen and opens the door to the freezer, feeling the icy breeze on his hot face as the sounds of voices retreat and the bell above the door rings out again.
Ste swings the kitchen door open. “What are you looking for?” Ste asks, rounding the corner.
“Nothing,” Lucas grumbles, closing the door to the freezer with a slam.
Lucas is settling onto the sofa when he hears Ste let out a defeated groan from the kitchen.
“What have you dropped now?” Lucas asks, trying his best to melt into the chair after his long shift at the deli.
“I haven’t dropped anything,” Ste grumbles. “But we don’t have any chicken left, so you’ll have to go out and buy some.”
“Why me?” Lucas whines, letting his head fall back against the cushions as he closes his eyes.
“I’m the one cooking and no one else is here. So off you pop.”
Lucas lets out one last groan as he drags himself to his feet and out of the door, muttering about child labour laws.
At Price Slice he pays for the chicken with spare change, slumping off home but coming up short as he spots movement on the other side of the road. He sees the hunched figure of Dillon, dark hair falling across his face, sitting on the low stone bench across from the bus stop.
“What ya doing out here?” Lucas asks from across the street, startling Dillon.
“Nothing,” Dillon says, wiping at his eyes. “I just wanted some fresh air.”
“Right,” Lucas says with a nod. “It is pretty late, though.” He crosses over the road, realising that Dillon doesn’t have his jacket to protect him against the late winter chill. “And cold,” he adds, perching beside Dillon on the bench.
The evening is just edging into night, the sky darkening by the minute as the warm house lights turn on one by one.
Dillon clears his throat, turning to face Lucas with a pinched expression. “Do you want to know why I’m here, in this village?”
“Nice place for a holiday?” Lucas shrugs.
“No. I…” Dillon swallows thickly. “I was kicked out.”
“Oh.” Lucas stares down at where Dillon’s hands are worrying his rings.
“Yeah, I got in this massive fight with my friend. I thought he liked me but I guess I was wrong.” Dillon bounces his leg, frantic.
“That sucks.” Lucas says, shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets, staving off the cold.
“Yeah, you never know who might be homophobic,” Dillon says, meeting Lucas’s eyes.
Lucas’s heart flips in his chest. “Yeah?”
Dillon nods. “I mean I’m pan so it could probably be worse but it still sucks.”
“I get that.”
“You do?” Dillon’s gaze is calculating.
Lucas shrugs, looking away. “Sometimes people say stuff about my dads, but never to my face.”
Dillon sits up straighter. “You have two dads?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised Imran didn’t tell you, it’s like my main thing.”
“I doubt that,” Dillon says, a hint of amusement entering his voice.
“Well-” Lucas’s words die in his throat as he recognises the click clack of familiar dress shoes against the pavement.
“What’s all this, then?” Brendan asks in a drawling voice.
“Nothing,” Lucas says, feeling Dillon tense beside him.
“Sure,” Brendan says, turning his full attention onto Lucas. “What are you doing not at home?”
“Dad asked me to get the chicken,” Lucas says, standing and holding out the bag of chicken.
Brendan takes the bag with a stern expression.“And yet the chicken cannot be cooked as long as you are out here flirting with your new mate.”
“Da,” Lucas whines as Dillon stands and backs off.
“I’ll see you later,” Dillon murmurs before slipping away, towards the other end of the village.
“Why would you say that?” Lucas asks, nudging his elbow into Brendan’s side as they start the trek up the road towards their flat.
Brendan’s pace picks up as the smell of fresh cooked dinners wafts through the air. “I was just telling the truth.” He looks down at Lucas with amusement colouring his face, handlebar moustache twitching up with his smile. “Where’d you pick that one up, then?”
“I didn’t pick him up. We were just talking.” Lucas shivers, wondering what it looked like from the outside. If Dillon thought he was flirting. “He was at the deli earlier.”
Brendan’s mouth tilts into a concerned frown. “Does he seem like trouble?”
Lucas remembers what Dillon said, about fighting with his friend who didn’t like him back. “Not really.” He thinks of mentioning that Dillon is queer, but can’t figure out if he is allowed to say that before it’s too late. Brendan’s strides speed up the closer they get to the front door. Kylie Minogue is blasting from the living room speakers and Ste is a dancing silhouette in the curtained window.
Once inside the house, Brendan charges into the kitchen. Lucas can see him leaning into Ste’s space to place a kiss on the other man’s cheek. He catches a glimpse of Brendan’s hands on Ste’s waist, head resting on the crook of his shoulder. Lucas wonders what it would feel like, to have someone like Dillon standing that close to him. He winces as he almost walks into the wall between the hall and living room.
Leah is sprawled across the couch, socked feet resting on the coffee table, a habit she picked up from Brendan. Lucas pushes her legs out of his way and she tucks her feet under her as she scrolls on her phone, taking no note of him. Lucas collapses into the chair beside her, hearing quiet murmurings from the kitchen. He doesn’t want to see something that could scar him, again, so he keeps his eyes closed as the flat fills with the scent of cumin, garlic powder, and sizzling meat.
When Lucas and Leah are called over to set the table for dinner, he has almost dozed off, head full of Dillon, all defiant brown eyes as he told Lucas about what happened to him, and the warmth of his skin when they brushed against each other.
Taking his place opposite Brendan, he thinks about what Dillon said, how his mother kicked him out, not supporting his sexuality. He only knows a bit about Brendan’s childhood, but has gotten the impression that everyone is glad that his dad isn’t in their life. It must hurt a lot, to be turned away by your parents for something that you can’t change.
It seems heartless.
He couldn’t imagine a world in which his dads didn’t love him. A world where they would kick him out for liking a boy. That thought settles strangely inside Lucas’s chest, as if caught in his throat.
Brendan looks up from his food, meets his eyes, and smiles around his mouthful of chicken, like a dog on the prowl. “Lucas made a new friend.”
Lucas wishes he could run away from this conversation, but instead he takes a bite of chicken, avoiding Ste’s gaze.
“Was that the boy from the deli?” Ste asks.
“What boy?” Leah asks, frowning across at the three of them.
“He’s another one of Misbah’s,” Ste says with a shrug.
“He’s her nephew,” Lucas corrects.
Leah hums. “Is he hot?”
Lucas’s mind sputters to a stop before he can say something he’d regret. He swallows another bite of food before answering. “How the hell should I know?”
“You have eyes, Lucas. Try and be helpful next time.” Leah kicks out at him under the table but he dodges out of the way just in time, and she groans as her foot makes contact with the leg of his chair.
“They looked very comfortable when I saw them together,” Brendan says, his voice cutting across their squabbling. Lucas cringes at the suggestive lilt to Brendan’s words.
“Really?” Ste asks.
“Dillon was sad and I was being a nice person, is that illegal?”
“Out of character,” Leah mutters under her breath, yelping when Lucas throws a spear of asparagus at her.
“Stop fighting,” Ste chides. “I cooked this meal and you’re gonna eat it properly.”
Lucas watches Brendan lean in and whisper something, inaudible, in Ste’s ear. Ste softens, and a smirk lights up his face. Lucas would be glad that Brendan makes his dad so happy if he didn’t have to be subjected to it every day.
The next time he sees Dillon, Lucas is in the middle of a football match on the school courtyard. In a sea of blue blazers, Dillon stands out in his purple hoodie and white jeans. Lucas stops, mid kick, surprised by Dillon’s sudden appearance. He wouldn’t admit it, but Lucas has been on the lookout for Dillon for the past week.
“Need an extra player?” Dillon asks with a smirk, sliding into place beside Lucas at the edge of their makeshift pitch.
One of the other boys scoffs and Lucas would turn to glare at him if he weren’t too busy staring at Dillon in wonderment.
“Are you any good?” Lucas asks, kicking him the ball. Dillon lets his messenger bag fall to the ground as he dribbles the ball to the other end of the pitch. Lucas dashes after him, and they laugh as they battle for possession before Lucas manages to land a kick that gives his teammate the ball. “Not bad,” he says, catching his breath.
“Oh yeah?” Dillon pulls his hoodie off over his head, revealing a blue shirt that rucks up. Lucas is too distracted by the patch of skin revealed above Dillon’s waistband that he misses the shouts of his teammates.
The ball hits his arm with a sharp sting of pain, bouncing off towards the other players.
“Fuck!” Lucas yells as the ball makes contact with his arm.
“Lucas!” Comes John Paul’s distant chiding shout.
“Sorry, Sir,” Lucas shouts back.
“Are you alright?” Dillon asks, concern tilting his smile into a frown. The pain is dulling to a low ache that will probably bruise.
Lucas is distracted by the way Dillon’s hair has fallen out of place and almost forgets to answer. “I’m fine.” He glances across the playground to see that most of the other players have continued with their match, out of earshot. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” Lucas starts, swallowing against the bubbles of anxiety that are prickling at his insides.
“Really?” Dillon smiles, bright and surprised, and Lucas can’t help but smile, too.
Lucas shrugs, bashful. “Well, yeah. I just realised that I think I-”
“You must be Dillon!”
Lucas turns at the voice to find Leah standing to the side of the pitch, smiling up at Dillon. Lucas scowls at her.
“Yeah, I am,” Dillon says, pushing his hair back into place.
Leah has her hands on her hips, somehow not shivering in her skirt. “I’m Leah, Lucas’s sister. He’s told us so much about you.”
Dillon flicks his eyes across to Lucas. “You talked about me?”
“I mentioned you,” Lucas mutters, kicking at the loose gravel on the ground.
“But you’re in year eleven, right?” Leah asks, drawing his attention back to her. Lucas doesn’t even know how she could have known that.
“Uh, yeah?”
Lucas didn’t even think to ask something like that.
“Well that’s my year, so I can show you around if you want.” Leah twirls a strand of blonde hair around her finger, batting her eyelashes.
“That would be cool,” Dillon says with a smile. Lucas remembers what Dillon said, about him being pan. He knows that means that Dillon likes girls, but it still feels like ice is dripping through in his veins as he watches Dillon turn his attention to Leah. It’s as if Lucas isn’t even there.
It shouldn’t surprise Lucas that Dillon would chose his sister over him. Most people do.
The ball comes close to where they’re standing and Lucas swipes it from the other team, guarding it as he dribbles it up the pitch. It helps his head clear, to let his body remember the moves of the game and to leave the gentle sounds of Dillon and Leah talking to fade into the background.
It’s probably for the best to keep his feelings a secret, after what Dillon’s old friend put him through. He’s probably just looking for a friend.
Brendan is sitting at the dining table, watching Lucas shuffle about the kitchen looking dejected. He’s got his school tie balled up in his back pocket as he pours out a bowl of cereal. Lucas’s uniform always looks less put together when he’s stressed.
The muffled sounds of the shower running, the tv playing, and BlackPink blasting from behind Leah’s shut door fills the silence as Brendan casts his curious gaze over his son. Brendan swallows his bite of sausage roll before calling out to him. “What’s all this moping for, then?”
Lucas turns to him, alarm lighting up his eyes. “What?”
Brendan sighs, setting down his pastry. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”
“Nothing,” Lucas says, no better at lying than when he was six.
“Are you sure?” Brendan asks, sitting back in his chair.
“I just–” Lucas starts, faltering, crossing over to the living room, where he collapses into the couch, cereal in hand.
Brendan waits for him to continue, trying to tune out the commentators on the tv arguing over possession of a football.
“What were your first impressions, when you met dad?” Lucas asks, voice soft and hesitant.
Brendan frowns and stands, turning towards Lucas. He looks small and brittle as he spoons his cereal into his mouth, reminding Brendan of the boy who used to sneak into bed with him and Ste whenever he had a nightmare, curling up between them, fitting under Brendan’s arm.
“Well,” Brendan starts, perching himself on the edge of the couch, arms resting on his knees. “The first thing I thought was that he looked like trouble. For me and the nightclub.” He remembers it vaguely, the way you do with something important that didn’t seem it at the time. A scruffy young adult, pretty, holding himself with a confidence he hadn’t earned yet. “My second thought was the he was exactly my type.”
“Really?” Lucas asks, eyes wide.
“Yeah. It took a long time to act on those feelings, though.” Brendan pauses, composing his words. Some things Lucas doesn’t need to know. “It can be difficult, when people tell you that you’re wrong and broken, to let people know the real you.”
Lucas frowns, concerned lines etched onto his face.
Brendan smiles. “Then he opened his mouth, and I knew he was definitely trouble.”
Lucas lets out a breath of laughter, tension leaching from his shoulders. “That sounds like him.”
“Doesn’t it just?” Brendan sits back into the couch, feigning nonchalance, remembering the way Lucas and the new boy had been sharing nervous eye contact, knees pressed together on the stone bench. “Why did you want to know?”
Lucas’s eyes widen. “I was just wondering if it felt important, at the time.” His words come out jumbled and rushed, reminding Brendan of all the times Ste used to talk himself into anxiety spirals.
Brendan twists his wedding band around his finger. “I didn’t think that I was allowed to find anyone to really love, and sometimes I still think that I don’t deserve your dad. But I love him, and that’s what counts.”
“Yeah?” Lucas asks.
“It’s scary, falling in love. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
Lucas gives him a hesitant smile as the bathroom door opens with a thunk, followed by Ste pulling his blue work polo over his head. “Leah, you’ll be late if you don’t have your breakfast in the next five minutes!” He comes to a stop in the entrance to the living room, casting wild eyes between them as he buttons up his trousers. “What’s this, you’re not scheming again, are you? I’m barely recovered from the last time.”
Lucas’s thoughtful expression morphs into a wicked grin. The last time the two of them had been left unsupervised for a weekend, Ste had come back to a tent in the living room and the smell of burnt marshmallow that had permeated the kitchen for two weeks.
Ste disappears into the kitchen as Leah storms out of her room, squinting at the two of them from behind thick false lashes. “Why are you sat like that?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
Brendan glances to the side, meeting Lucas’s eyes. They are side by side on the narrow couch, the TV still playing a football match. He clears his throat. “We’re watching football.”
“You hate football,” Leah says, narrowing her eyes.
“I tolerate football,” Brendan corrects, mirroring her crossed arms. “And I am taking an interest in my son’s passions. Is that a crime?”
“Whatever,” Leah mutters with a huff, slipping into the kitchen.
Brendan stands with a groan, patting Lucas on the shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s a short list,” Lucas says, and Brendan gives him a half hearted glare. He passes Leah as he enters the kitchen. By the time he has set his hand on the small of Ste’s back and pressed a kiss to the side of the other man’s face, the flat is already filling with the sounds of Lucas and Leah’s bickering.
Ste sighs as Brendan takes a bite out of the toast he steals from Ste’s plate. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into them,” he says, shoulders slumped.
“Hormones,” Brendan says with a shrug.
“Oh God, you don’t think this is because Lucas likes a girl, is it?”
Brendan smirks into Ste’s back, where he smells of rose shampoo and aftershave. “I’m pretty sure it’s not, Steven.”
Lucas is standing on the pavement outside their flat, shivering in the early morning chill. His eyes are glued to the sliver of road that leads to the Maalik’s house. Lucas can hear Leah gathering up her bag from the hook beside the door and slipping on her shoes, but he doesn’t dare to look away from the other side of the street.
He wonders if Dillon would think that it’s lame that he still walks to school with his sister at the age of fifteen, but they’ve done the same every day since primary school and he wouldn’t want to walk alone. Lucas bites his lip, remembering the way Dillon had smiled at Leah, easy and confident. The door opens behind him with a click and Leah steps up beside him, slamming it shut behind her.
“Easy,” Lucas says, stepping out towards the road. “What’s wrong with you?”
Leah groans as she ties her hair back into a ponytail, following beside him. “There’s a party at the Wreck tomorrow and I already know that dad isn’t gonna let me take the night off from the deli.” She sniffs, wrapping her pink puffer jacket tighter around herself. “At this point I would sneak out if I thought that Da wouldn’t kill me.”
“Both of them would do anything for you,” Lucas says with a shrug.
She glances at him, frowning. “Except let me have fun.”
Lucas spots bright pink trainers across the square and picks up his pace, eyes fixed to Dillon’s back and the pattern of his hoodie. He steps out onto the road but Leah pulls him back by the arm, which she keeps a tight hold of as a car passes.
She glares across at him. “Watch where you’re going, stupid. I can’t deal with both of them on my own.”
Lucas glares right back. “Who’s going to the party?”
Leah keeps a hold of his sleeve as they cross the road and walk past the pond. “Just like Shing Lin and the other year elevens. Why do you care?”
Lucas tilts his head back to look down at her, something he knows she hates. “I have friends. I might want to go, too.”
Leah rolls her eyes. “Like Dads would ever let you.”
“Hey, I can be very charismatic when I need to be.”
Leah scoffs, shaking her head and letting go of his sleeve. He misses the touch, but when they reach the gate and Dillon turns to see them, he’s glad. Dillon waves to them and Lucas bites down on the smile threatening to take over his face. Leah peels off towards her friends on the benches as Lucas meets Dillon in the middle of the playground.
“Hey,” Dillon says with a grin. All Lucas can think of is meeting Dillon at a party, in the low lights with drinks making them buzz.
“Hi.” Lucas runs his hands over his trousers, nerves prickling at his skin, trying not to bring up the party and seem as eager as he is.
“I think you forgot something,” Dillon says, eyes flicking over Lucas’s body.
“What?”Lucas’s heart thuds against his chest as his brain falters, wondering if this is some kind of a pick up line.
Dillon leans in, eyes bright with amusement. “You’re not wearing your tie,” he whispers, and it takes a moment for Lucas to realise what he means, brain foggy from how close he’s standing.
“Oh,” Lucas says, digging his tie out of his back pocket, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. “Guess I forgot to put it on.”
“I could do it for you.”
Lucas’s head snaps up at that. “What?”
Dillon shrugs. “I could help you put your tie on? If you’d rather–”
“Okay,” Lucas rushes to say before Dillon can talk himself out of it. Dillon gives him a crooked smile and takes the tie from him. Lucas tenses at the brief brush of their hands, stomach doing summersaults as Dillon steps closer. He can feel Dillon’s breath on his face as the other boy ties the tie around Lucas’s throat, a frown of concentration glued to his face.
Lucas gulps as Dillon’s fingers brush his throat. He’s never seen another boy’s mouth this close up before.
“Done,” Dillon says, stepping back, hands falling away from Lucas.
Lucas clears his throat. “Have you been to the Wreck yet?”
Dillon frowns. “No, is that something you’d show me sometime?”
Lucas bites his lip, realising that he can’t ask Dillon to a party that he’s not invited to. “Maybe.” His heart clenches as his head rings with one thought.
I want to kiss him.
It hits him like a punch, the realisation that he has a crush on Dillon, a blush creeping up his neck as he stands before him on the playing field. “I have to go,” he rushes out, pushing past Dillon and towards the school building. Lucas hears Leah’s voice calling out to Dillon as he passes through the double doors and into the corridor.
He looks around, feeling cold slide through his veins. There was no chance anyone as cool as Dillon would ever like him. He’s just some scrawny kid who works for his dad. Down the hall, John Paul is talking to one of the younger kids. Maybe Lucas had always liked John Paul because deep down he knew that he was the same.
Gay.
It feels like the world is spinning until he feels the bite of his nails pinching the skin of his palms. He opens his hand, muscles aching, and heads the other way down the corridor, towards class.
Throughout the day Lucas catches snippets of conversations about the party, everyone eager to get an alibi or pass drink requests to the older students. He thinks about his dads, anything to keep his mind off his one-sided crush.
Ste would never let him and Leah go to the party if they asked. He’s always been overprotective. Brendan was easier to bribe or win over.
Lucas passes Dillon in the corridor between classes, trying to offer a smile that ends with a wince. He wonders if Dillon sees him as a way to get to Leah. If that’s why he’s being so nice to him.
At lunchtime Lucas sits at one of the benches, watching the sixth formers practice football tricks, when Dillon drops down beside him.
“Hey,” Dillon greets, digging into his serving of chips still steaming from the school kitchens.
“Hi.” Lucas looks over at him, catching sight of Dillon’s bright smile. It feels like there is electricity running through him, mind fixated on where their bodies are almost touching.
“Have you heard about the party tonight at the wreck?” Dillon asks, giddy with excitement. “It sounds really cool.”
“Oh, yeah. Leah told me.”
“Really? Well you should come. We could hang out.” Dillon was looking at him with a steady, intense gaze, as if searching Lucas for a sign. It almost feels like he’s asking him on a date.
“I’ll have to ask my Da,” Lucas says, not wanting to lie.
“I hope he says yes,” Dillon says, eyes flicking across Lucas’s face. He opens his mouth, about to say something more, but is cut off by someone else sitting at their table.
“Hey,” Leah calls out, perching down on the bench opposite Dillon as Vicky slides in opposite Lucas.
He glowers at them, frustration turning to rage in his blood. “Don’t you have other friends?”
Leah levels an unamused expression at him. “Don’t you?”
He wants to storm off, to leave them behind to flirt where he can’t hear them, but in that moment Dillon settles his hand on Lucas’s knee. “Stay,” the other boy murmurs, smile turned down into a pout.
“Okay.” Lucas lets his anger frizzle out, feeling the prickle of a blush work its way up his neck as he turns his eyes back to the football.
After the last bell of the school day rings, Lucas rushes out of school and towards the middle of the village. He climbs the metal fire escape stairs up to the balcony of the club, knocking twice on the door.
Joel opens the door, his scowl turning to a smile as he sees who it is. “Brendan, your son is here,” he calls out towards the back rooms, turning back to the counter to resume his work. Lucas shuts the door behind him, crossing the room as Brendan opens the door to his office and offers a small smile.
“Are you after something, or just missing me?”
“Both?” Lucas shrugs, feigning innocence.
Brendan crosses his arms. “You can’t sweet talk me, kid. It won’t work.”
“It does when it’s Leah.”
“That’s not true.” He settles back behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk.
“There’s this party at the Wreck and I wanted to know if I can go with Leah, if she can have the night off.”
Brendan looks at him the way that makes a lot of grown men nervous, eyes narrowed. Lucas stands his ground, looking down at Brendan with his best pleading eyes that use to get him extra ice cream every time he asked. Brendan doesn’t scare him, not after all those years of him reading them to sleep and letting them in the bed when they were having nightmares.
He’s harmless, really.
“Will there be alcohol?”
Lucas shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Brendan frowns. “Will Dillon be there?”
“Yes,” Lucas answers, flushing to the tips of his ears.
Brendan tilts his head as if assessing Lucas. “Will you take care of our sister?”
Lucas frowns. “Of course.”
It isn’t far from the club to the deli, the balcony looks out over it, but Lucas still almost trips over the pavement as he comes careening into the street and opens the door to the deli with a forceful swing.
Leah looks up from where she had been arranging the slices of cheese across the display boards. Confusion clouds her eyes as she swipes her hair out of her face with the back of a plastic gloved hand.
Lucas comes to a stop, breath coming out hard. “Da said we can go together, to the party!”
A brilliant smile takes over Leah’s face, reminding Lucas of their mum. “Really?”
“Yeah, he said Joel can take care of the club while he takes over your shift.”
Leah rushes out from behind the counter and envelopes him in a hug, smelling of stilton and salami. “Thanks, Lucas. I knew you’d put his favouritism to good use eventually.”
“I’m not his favourite,” he says, shaking her off.
“You’re the baby of the family, of course he’s soft on you,” she says, trying to ruffle his hair but he ducks out of the way.
“Says the one who used to be called princess more than her own name,” Lucas grumbles.
Leah lets out a bark of laughter. “If you wanted to be called princess, you could have just asked, Lucas.”
“That’s not…”
“Did Dillon say anything about going to the party?”
“Oh, um… Yeah, I think he’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll go get pretty for him.” She pulls off her bright blue apron, shoving it into Lucas’s arms as she pushes past him. Normally he would have said something, a quick teasing jibe, but the thought of Dillon calling Leah pretty is making his insides churn.
He supposes he could tell her about his silly little crush on Dillon. But then again, it’s been a while since he has seen her be this cheerful. She deserves a nice boyfriend, he shouldn’t get in the way of that.
When they leave the flat two hours later, Leah is dragging Lucas out the door, the shimmering sequins of her silver dress refracting the streetlights and casting sparks of light across the road. Lucas feels his emotions in his throat, sapping all of the moisture out of his mouth as he wonders if he tried too hard to look good.
As Leah let go of him, busy checking her makeup in the reflection of her phone, he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his ripped jeans. He already feels uncomfortable in the black button up he picked out. Leah had said he looks like Da, which he isn’t taking as a compliment.
His heart beats louder as they get closer to the Wreck, the sound of thumping bass and teenage inebriation filling the air. Leah rushes on ahead. Instead of running away so he doesn’t have to face his crush flirting with his sister, he dutifully follows after her, remembering his promise to Brendan.
He might be a bit intimidated by him.
When Lucas pushes through the double doors after her, he casts an anxious glance across the room and can’t see any sign of Dillon.
Leah looks disappointed, frown lines creasing her meticulous makeup. “Shing Lin!” She calls out. The other girl is leaning against the back of the couch, holding a cup of something red, wearing a pleated mini skirt and shimmering top.
Lucas feels out of place, not friends with anyone and trying not to take up space. He ends up in the corner, regretting his life choices and sipping from a cup of what tastes like stale bear. He bounces his leg, wondering when enough time will have passed for him to be able to go home.
Then there is a hand on his shoulder and it almost makes Lucas jump out of his skin. He turns to see Dillon grinning down at him.
“Are you waiting for someone?” Dillon asks. It feels as if Lucas’s heart has lodged itself in his throat as he flounders for words. His eyes slip down to Dillons chest and he realises that Dillon is wearing one of his mesh shirts again. Lucas almost chokes on his breath, eyes darting back up to the other boy’s grinning face.
“Who would I be waiting for?” Lucas asks, wondering if this is what flirting is.
“A handsome stranger?” Dillon suggests, dark eyes filling with mirth.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Lucas scoffs, feeling himself blush. He’s grateful for the flashing low lights.
“So you were waiting for me?” Dillon grins and Lucas can’t help but find him endearing.
“I guess I must’ve been.” Lucas doesn’t understand how such an innocuous conversation feels so intimate in a room full of teenagers making bad decisions, but Lucas’s back is to the wall and Dillon is smiling down at him, probably closer than he should be. Lucas opens his mouth, wondering how embarrassing a confession is about to spill from his lips when Leah’s voice cuts through their sheltered oasis of flirting.
“Hi, Dillon! I was looking for you.”
Dillon steps away and Lucas frowns at the loss of his shared body heat.
“Oh, hey, Leah.” Dillon shakes out his hair with a careless hand. “I wasn’t hiding.”
Lucas’s eyes are glued to Dillon’s hands as they card through his thick hair. When he looks away, almost overwhelmed by the sight of him, Lucas meets Shing Lin’s eyes, her gaze curious as she sips from her cup.
“We were just gonna ask some of the sixth formers if they wanted to join in on our drinking game. But you could come as well, if you’re up for it.”
“Oh, um… sure.” Dillon says, sounding awkward. Before he can say anything else he is being pulled away by Leah, towards the other end of the room where drinks are laid out in lines.
Lucas watches them go, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling the bitter tang of jealousy in his chest again. He digs into one of his jeans pockets and pulls out his phone, opening google and searching something. How to get over a crush on a friend.
He scrolls through the results, frowning down at his phone, sweat prickling at the back of his neck as he reads unhelpful advice after unhelpful advice.
- Tell them how you feel, you never know!
- Watch a Rom-Com :)
- Talk to your friends about it!
He shoves his phone back into his pocket, pulling at the collar of his button up in frustration. Somewhere off in the distance he can hear the sound of Shing Lin’s laugh and something that could have been Dillon’s groan. He weavs his way through the crowds that seem denser now, and finally pushes himself out the door and onto the pavement.
He lets out a breath, the chill in the air cooling his flushed face. The door handle turns behind him and he hears the noise of the party spill out into the muted sounds of dusk in Hollyoaks.
“Hey,” Dillon murmurs as the door falls shut behind him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Lucas says, tensing again. “I mean I feel kind of… wrong. But I’ll be fine.”
Dillon frowns, stepping closer to Lucas, who is avoiding his eyes. “Did you drink too much? Do you want me to walk you home?”
Lucas falters, hearing how romantic that sounds from Dillon’s mouth. “Oh, um… I actually have to stay with my sister. That sounds so lame but I promised Da that I’d look after her.”
“That’s not lame, I think it’s sweet.” Dillon leans back against the wall, his long coat falling open. Lucas can’t help but watch his breath fog up in the air. “Is your Da the scary one?”
“He’s not that scary,” Lucas protests. “He used to sing Katy Perry songs with us and always took us to the beach with our step brothers… You probably shouldn’t bring that up with him, though.”
“That sounds nice,” Dillon says, a contemplative expression on his face. Lucas wondered if he was thinking of his own parents, the mother who kicked him out and the father he wouldn’t talk about.
“Yeah.”
Dillon pushes away from the wall, coming closer to Lucas. For one dizzying second Lucas thinks that his telepathic yearning has finally reached Dillon’s brain and he has decided to kiss him.
Instead, he stands there, hands shoved in his pockets, chest distractingly on display, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. “If you still wanted to show me around, I would be into that.”
It takes a moment of uneasy silence where Lucas tries to parse out what was just asked of him before Dillon motions for him to hand his phone over. Lucas does, without protest, only realising when the phone unlocks in Dillon’s hand that he hadn’t closed out of his cringe google search yet.
Dillon freezes as Lucas contemplates running away and changing his name to never have to deal with this situation when Dillon’s voice breaks him out of his spiralling thoughts.
“You have a crush on someone?” He asks it as if it had never occurred to Dillon that Lucas could feel something like that.
“Um,” Lucas replies, faltering.
“Is it…” Dillon looks up at Lucas, meeting his eyes with his dark brown ones. “Is it Shing Lin?”
Lucas feels himself deflate, only realising he had wanted Dillon to ask if it was him when it was too late. Dillon clearly didn’t want to ask him out because he was into Leah, so that left Lucas with Shing Lin.
“Yeah,” Lucas mutters, watching with numb clarity as Dillon types in his number on a new contact and shoots himself a message that Lucas can’t make out. Dillon hands his phone back over and gives him a tight lipped smile.
“I should go back to the party,” he says, turning away from Lucas. It feels a lot like the sharp sting of rejection.
“Yeah,” Lucas says, turning his face away, towards the road, as he feels tears well in his eyes. He balls his hands into fists and flexes his jaw as he is left alone with the unsettling quiet of the village.
The music is starting to get on Dillon’s nerves as he weaves between the crowd. He almost runs into Leah, whose hands go up to his arms to keep herself steady in her comically large heels.
“Sorry, Dillon,” she says in a sweet voice that settles onto Dillon’s skin like a rash.
He just wants everyone to leave him alone. Especially Leah. He glances back at the door. “It’s fine.”
“Do you want a drink?” She bats her eyelashes at him.
“Sure.”
Leah slips away into the crowd as Dillon looks around at the crowd of strangers. He only really likes spending time with Lucas. That was why he had wanted to come.
He had thought that Lucas had liked him back. But he had made that mistake before. And now it was confirmed that Lucas liked Shing Lin.
Why did Dillon keep falling for straight boys? It was tragic, really.
At least Lucas hadn’t punched him.
And Leah likes him. Which is nice. But his head is so full of Lucas that he barely notices her coming back, a sweet smelling cocktail in hand. He has to tear his thoughts away from Lucas’s startling blue eyes, and the way he laughs breathily, and the muscles of his legs when he kicks a football.
He takes the drink from Leah with a frown as she looks up at him with hope clear in her eyes.
“Look, Leah…” he starts, gulping as her mouth turns down. There is no good outcome to this. “I just like you as a friend.”
“Right,” she says, looking like a wounded puppy.
He thinks of Lucas’s frown as he had said he has to protect his sister. “I’m sorry, Leah,” he says, and flees, wondering if Lucas will ever smile at him again.
Lucas frowns down at his phone as if it had personally offended him, when he hears the click clack of Brendan’s boots against the pavement. Lucas looks up to see Brendan stop in his path and turn towards him on his heels.
“Are you checking up on me?” Lucas asks with a frown.
Brendan stalks towards him, hands in his pockets. “Heading towards a date with your father, actually,” he says, leaning against the railing beside his son. “Why, are you worried about me cramping your style?”
“Always.” Lucas drops his phone into his jeans pocket and leans in a mirror to Brendan.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Lucas frowns. “Why do you think that something’s wrong.”
“Normally people don’t hang out outside of parties on their own when they aren’t smoking or pining over someone.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Lucas blinks in surprise. He doesn’t think of Brendan as the pining type, but with how stubborn Ste is, its shouldn’t be that surprising.
“You know you can tell me anything, right, kid?”
Lucas’s mind flicks to thoughts of Dillon and the blush he causes. He should probably tell someone about it. Come out to someone. If it had to be anyone, it should probably be his Da.
His heart hammers in his chest so hard that he can’t tell what is the music and what is him. He opens his mouth, anxiety swirling in his stomach.
The door crashes open, spilling pop music and a crying teenager out of it.
It’s Leah, who freezes at the sight of them, a teardrop clinging to her lashes.
“Princess?” Brendan asks, and then Leah is crashing into his chest, knocking the air out of him as she wraps her arms around his torso and muffles wet sobs into his shirt.
Brendan motions with his arms and a severe expression for Lucas to join in the hug, and he dutifully presses into Leah’s side, letting out a breath as he is wrapped up in his Da’s arms. It should probably be embarrassing, to stand with his sister and Da at the front of a party where anyone could see them. But most people in the village has probably seen something worse from the three of them, so he lets himself relax into the hug that feels like home.
“Do you want to come home?” Brendan asks when they pull away.
“What about date night?” Lucas frowns.
“It can be a family night.” Brendan shrugs. Leah is still tucked under his arm, her makeup running.
Lucas glances at the door and then back to his family. “Yeah, I wasn’t having much fun, anyway.
They end up all piled onto the couches, watching some movie from before Lucas was born, Leah curled up with her head on Brendan’s lap, the way she used to do when she was sick. Ste snatches the crisp bag from Lucas as he hands him a cup of tea, a smile on his face that he turns to Brendan.
Lucas couldn’t imagine his life without the three of them.
When Ste comes to wake him the next morning, Lucas rolls back over with a whine, burying his head beneath the sheets.
“Fine, be late. But don’t make it my problem,” Ste snaps at him, retreating back to the living room.
It’s Brendan that comes in next, after the front door closes with a thud. Ste has gone to work and Leah is in the shower, singing some obnoxious song Lucas wishes he had never heard.
Lucas has just sat up and pulled on his school trousers when Brendan pushes open the door. He sits down on the bed, picking up Lucas’s school tie from the mess of duvet covers and blankets.
“Is this about yesterday?” Brendan asks, running the satin tie through his fingers.
“What?”
“You’ve been out of sorts for weeks and yesterday you were alone at a party. Is it something someone did? Is it that new boy of yours?”
“His name is Dillon,” Lucas corrects.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a snort of laughter. “Do you want me to sort him out for you?”
“No!” Lucas squeaks, not wanting to think too hard about what he could mean.
Brendan’s mouth splits open with a smile. “I was just going to talk to him. Threateningly. I wouldn’t hit someone else’s kid.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong.” Lucas’s frown deepens.
“He’s not bullying you?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Lucas’s eyes sting. “Da, I think I’m gay.”
Brendan stops to grin at him, pulling him into a warm, solid hug.
Lucas sniffles into Brendan’s shoulder. “I’m scared,” he whispers, his voice cracking around his words.
“I know,” Brendan whispers back, pulling away and holding Lucas at arms length. “You’re going to be okay. I’m proud of you.”
That makes another wave of tears fall from Lucas’s eyes. Brendan presses a kiss to the top of his head, something he hasn’t done in years.
“So...” Brendan starts with a squint once Lucas has dried his eyes. “You like Dillon?”
It doesn’t sound like a question, and Lucas nods in response.
“Have you tried telling him?”
Lucas frowns. “No.”
“Does he like boys? He looks like he likes boys.”
“He’s pan so, yeah. That doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” Lucas shrugs, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest.
Brendan makes a disapproving noise. “Why wouldn’t he like you?”
“It’s terrifying.”
“I was scared, too, to kiss your dad. But if I hadn't done that, then I wouldn’t have you. And that’s not something that I even want to think about.”
“Don’t… don’t tell anyone about me. Please.”
“You know I wouldn’t.”
The door in the corridor creaks open and Leah steps out, drying her hair with a towel in one hand and her school jumper in the other. She looks at them with dark, suspicious eyes before she disappears into the kitchen.
“Do you think she heard?” Lucas asks, panic crawling up his throat.
“No, and you know she’d still love you if she had.” Brendan ruffles Lucas’s short curls as he stands, handing the tie over.
Lucas’s first class of the day is English. It’s almost a relief not to see Dillon first thing. It feels like he’s going to lose it if he has to be in the same room as the other boy. As John Paul talks about the novel that Lucas was supposed to read a month ago, he looks out at the swooping birds beyond the classroom. He rests his pen against his mouth as he considers his Da’s words from that morning.
Why wouldn’t he like you?
But his mind keeps playing over scenarios of Dillon frowning at him, trying to let him down gently. Telling him he just doesn’t feel the same way.
That would be so embarrassing.
“Lucas.”
He is pulled from his thoughts by John Paul who is looking at him with clear disapproval, his hands on his hips, as the other students are working on something with their heads bowed over their worksheets.
“Step outside with me,” John Paul says, a frown creasing his face.
Lucas tenses as he steps into the corridor, ready for John Paul to shout at him. Instead, his teacher lets out a sigh.
“I thought we talked about this,” John Paul starts. “You have to try and make an effort, Lucas. Has something been worrying you?”
Lucas freezes, heart beating hard in his chest. “Um…”
“Is it something at home?”
“No.”
“Is it girl trouble?”
“No.”
“Is it boy trouble?”
Lucas hesitates, just for a second, but that’s enough time for John Paul’s eyes to go wide with understanding and for his frown to disappear.
“Oh,”
Lucas’s eyes start to sting. He hadn’t meant to be so obvious, but he hadn’t expected John Paul to ask him something like that, outright. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, taking a shaky breath, as John Paul pulls Nancy into his orbit and shoves her into the classroom in his stead.
“Come here,” John Paul says, leading Lucas down the corridor to an office he’s never been to before. It’s clean and there are plush chairs and a box of tissues on the table.
Lucas slumps into a seat as John Paul closes the door and starts to ramble.
“You don’t have to be scared, Lucas. I know exactly how you feel. Have you talked to your dads yet?”
“I told Da.”
John Paul hums. “Did he threaten the boy you like?”
Lucas lets out a shaky laugh, nodding his head. “It’s just… there’s this boy I like and I don’t think he likes me like that. Like he could have anyone he wants. I can’t even concentrate in class.”
“Just because you need a little help doesn’t mean that you aren’t as deserving as love as everyone else,” John Paul says with a sincere frown.
“I was in love with a boy for the first time at your age.”
“How did it go?”
“Well, it was complicated. Most things are. He had a girlfriend but we saw each other anyway, and then when people found out, they hated us.”
“That’s awful.”
John Paul lets out a bark of laughter. “I wouldn’t recommend it. But there were some good times, and we lived together for a while, and I got my son out of it, eventually.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for all that just yet.” Lucas scrunches his face at the idea.
“Of course. You know you’re quite lucky.”
“What do you mean?” Lucas shifts in his chair.
“I didn’t have a very good coming out experience, and I know your dads had a rough go of it as well, but you have such a supportive family. You know they would never reject you, right?”
“I guess so.”
“And I think you should ask that boy out.”
“What, why?”
“It’s worth a shot,” John Paul says with a shrug. He stands, opening the door. “Come back to class when you’re ready,” he says, slipping out of the door.
Lucas leans his head against the back of the chair and lets out a breath. John Paul doesn’t have to be that nice to him. He wanders out into the corridor, running a hand through his short curls, stopping on his way to class to look at the notice board.
“Hey!”
Lucas jumps at the sound of Dillon’s voice as the other boy comes sauntering towards him.
“What are you doing not in class? We could have hung out if you told me.”
“I kind of had a meltdown.”
“Really, why?” Dillon frowns at him, concern clear on his face.
He’s so pretty , Lucas thinks, and tenses up, trying not to say something he will regret.
“It doesn’t matter. Do you want to come round the deli tonight?”
“Yeah, that sounds nice. I can come at six thirty, after my band practice. And you can come to the practice rooms at break to listen to my warm ups.” Dillon motions to the guitar case strapped to his back and Lucas has to resist the urge to get lost in thoughts of Dillon playing the guitar in a confined space with him.
Lucas nods in a way he hopes doesn’t look over eager and watches a grin slide onto Dillon’s face.
“I’ll see you later,” Dillon says, holding his hand out. They fist bump and it sends a shock of electricity up Lucas’s arm.
“See ya,” he says, and watches Dillon walk away.
It hadn’t been easy to make Ste trust that he wasn’t doing something he shouldn’t - which technically he was. But the Deli was basically the best place in the village to have a date, especially when he had control of the kitchens, and there was no way in hell he would have let Ste chaperone his maybe-date.
The mini pizzas have just come out of the oven when there’s a knock at the door. Lucas hurries to shirk off his work uniform, pulling off the apron and polo shirt and pulling on the black button up that he hopes Dillon likes.
“Is no-one else here?” Dillon asks as Lucas pushes open the door.
“Uh, no. Is that a problem?”
“No,” Dillon says, following Lucas inside. Half the lights are off and it almost makes the place feel like a fancy date-worthy restaurant. Lucas should probably ask Dillon if this is a date or not, but looking at the taller boy makes panic settle into his stomach.
“I made some stuff, but it’s a surprise.”
“Should I close my eyes?” Dillon asks, theatrically putting a hand over his eyes.
“No,” Lucas says, taking Dillon’s arm to pull him back behind the counter. Dillon’s hand falls from his eyes as he follows him. Lucas disappears behind the corner, pulling out his selection of mini pizzas, serving them on a slate slab.
When he come back from the kitchen he sees Dillon standing there, taking in the wall decor that has been around longer than Lucas can remember and the childhood art tacked above the upper shelves, from when Leah had drawn the four of them as a happy family. Dillon is wearing his long black coat and a patterned black and white shirt that shows a sliver of his chest when he moves.
Lucas almost trips on his way over to him, but recovers by the time Dillon is facing him.
“What’s all this?” Dillon asks with a grin.
“Here,” Lucas says, holding out a mini pizza, small enough to be eaten in two bites. Dillon opens his mouth for Lucas to feed him. As soon as the pizza has made contact with Dillon’s tongue his eyes go wide and he makes a sound of approval.
“That’s great. Spicy but lush.”
“Gochujang. It’s a Korean paste, Leah made us try it once she started getting into Kpop a few years ago.
“Oh, that’s cool. What does she listen to?”
“Girl groups, mainly.”
“I like P1Harmony.”
“I uh…”
“They’re a boy group.”
“Right. You should probably talk to Leah about this stuff I’m so clueless.”
“But I like talking to you. And I don’t think she’d want to talk to me right now.”
Lucas frowns. “Why not?”
“I turned her down.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Dillon gives him a shy smile. “Well, I like someone else, so it didn’t really feel fair.”
“Really?” Lucas looks at him, breath hitching in his throat as he flicks his gaze between Dillon’s eyes and the other boy’s lips.
Dillon looks like he is about to say something when the beep of the oven alarm startles them both. Lucas goes to switch it off as Dillon takes another pizza from the tray.
It’s just some vegan garlic bread that he had forgotten about, occupied with Dillon’s appearance. He leads Dillon to the front of the shop where the blinds are drawn, offering him a slice of garlic bread as they settle into the plush couches.
They eat in comfortable silence for a moment, before Lucas blurts out his thoughts. “I lied.”
“What?”
“I don’t have a crush on Shing Lin.”
“So you have a crush on someone else?”
“Yeah.”
“Who is it?” Dillon asks with a tilt of his head, leaning forward in his chair.
Lucas opens his mouth to reply, heartbeat hammering in his throat, when there is a knock at the door.
“Lucas?” Comes Ste’s voice from the other side of the glass door. “Do you need some help closing up for the night?”
The sound of Ste’s keys in the lock makes Lucas’s heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.
Ste’s smile fades as he steps through the door and sees them sat on the couches with plates of food shared between them. A frown creases his face as he looks down at them. “What are you doing?” Ste asks.
“We were just having a snack after closing,” Lucas stammers out.
“Are you using up my stock?” Ste’s frown deepens.
Lucas bites his lip, looking across at Dillon who is shifting in his seat, keeping his head down.
“Dad, I need to talk to you.”
“What?” Ste looks like he has no idea what is going on, and Lucas pulls him by the wrist behind the counter and into the kitchen.
“Dad, I like him,” Lucas whispers, furious that Ste doesn’t understand that he’s ruining Lucas’s big moment.
“Well you are having dinner with him. I’d be shocked if he wasn’t your friend.”
“No dad, I like him romantically.”
“You what?” Ste asks, confusion clouding his features.
Lucas lets out a shaky breath. “Dad… I’m gay.”
“Oh.”
Ste isn’t saying anything and panic starts to lick at Lucas’s chest.
“Do you not…” Lucas starts, stammering. “Is that not what you wanted?” His eyes are stinging with tears that are threatening to fall, and he scrubs at his face with the back of a hand that smells like pizza.
“What? How could you think that?” Ste asks, face falling as he pulls his son into a tight hug. “I just want you to be yourself, and to be happy. And… I’m so proud of you.”
“I didn’t really do anything.”
“You did. And you’re going to ask out that nice boy, are you?” A mischievous grin settles across Ste’s face, not dissimilar to one that Brendan might give. “You’re shooting your shot.”
“I would be if my Dad wasn’t cramping my style,” Lucas counters, pointing Ste towards the back exit.
“Don’t stay out too long, though.” Ste says, obediently making his way to the back of the shop. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That’s a short list,” Lucas calls back, wiping his sweaty hands against his jeans and taking another gulp of air before pushing open the swing door and towards Dillon.
Dillon looks up as the kitchen door swings closed, eyes lighting up at the sight of Lucas. “Did your dad tell you off?” He asks in a hesitant voice, and Lucas remembers what Dillon had said about his own parents.
“No,” Lucas reassures him, taking his place beside Dillon on the bench, knees brushing as he sits down. “He was just being dramatic. It’s fine now.”
“So we can stay here?” Dillon’s eyes go wide.
“Yeah, not forever, but for a while.” Lucas smiles at him, heart jumping into his throat at the intensity of Dillon’s gaze.
Dillon’s hand comes up to touch the end of one of Lucas’s curls, tucking it behind the other boy’s ear. “Have you been crying?”
“I was trying not to. But I just came out to my dad, so…”
Dillon’s smile widens. “And to me.”
Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, but you already knew.”
“I had a hunch, that wasn’t the same as knowing.” Dillon says through a breath of laughter.
“What, you looked at me and thought ‘there’s no way that boy is straight?’”
“Pretty much. Is there a reason you told him just now?” Dillon’s twisting a rig around his thumb every few seconds, his smile nervous.
“I wanted to tell him because… because I like you in a very gay way,” Lucas blurts out.
“Lucas,” Dillon whispers. It looks like he’s gotten closer. “Will you let me kiss you now?”
Lucas gasps and lets himself be pulled into a chaste kiss. Dillon’s hand is gentle at the back of his neck and Lucas’s hands fumble into place at Dillon’s waist, brushing against a sliver of warm skin beneath the other boy’s shirt.
They break away from the kiss after a few seconds, Dillon’s hand falling from Lucas’s neck and onto the boy’s shoulder.
“Was that everything you hoped it would be?” Dillon asks, a nervous smile playing at his lips.
“Yeah,” Lucas breathes out. “More. We should do that more.” Lucas leans in, hands grasping firmer at Dillon’s sides as he dives back in, meeting Dillon’s lips with his. Dillon gasps in surprise, opening his mouth into the kiss. The first flick of tongue into Lucas’s mouth sends his brain reeling into the stratosphere and he chases it like a racing hound, deepening the kiss and pressing his body closer to Dillon’s.
It’s Dillon’s quick thinking that saves them from falling off the benches, Lucas’s overeager rush to get closer pulling them off balance. They break away, panting, and Dillon pulls Lucas into his lap so the other boy won’t fall to the ground or smack into the sturdy table.
“Oh,” Lucas says, brain screaming at him to kiss Dillon again, marvelling at the lock of dark hair that has fallen out of place, and the smudge of eyeliner that he can see better from this close.
“Sorry,” Dillon says, eyes wide. “I didn’t want you to fall.”
Lucas bites his tongue to stop himself from saying something sappy about falling for Dillon, and shifts on the other boy’s lap. “Do you want me to get off?”
Dillon’s eyes go even wider at that.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Oh my God I am so stupi
d. Never mind, forget I said anything.” Lucas scrambles to get off of Dillon, but the other boy’s hands are holding him steady.
“Shut up, Lucas,” Dillon says, voice full of affection as he pulls Lucas down into a lazy kiss.
They stay like that for a while, trading kisses and jokes and trying not to cringe at themselves. Until it way too late and Lucas just knows that Ste will set Brendan on them if he is not home soon. So he takes the trays of food back to the kitchen with Dillon following at his heels.
“I can help,” Dillon says as Lucas starts to clean the dishes, so he makes him dry and put back everything, calling out which cupboard everything goes into with his back turned to him.
He wonders if this is what it will feel like, in the future, when he’s in his own house with a proper boyfriend or husband, doing the dishes together while thinking about how much he would rather be kissing him. Maybe he should ask Ste to give Dillon a job at the deli.
“I can walk you home,” Dillon says when they are out on the street, feeling the bite of chill in the air as Lucas locks the front door.
“Isn’t that what you do when it’s a date?” Lucas asks, turning to Dillon with hope in his eyes.
“It felt like a date to me,” Dillon says with a shrug, looking pleased with himself.
“Yeah?”
“I was trying to ask you out like the whole time I’ve been here, but I guess I was scared that you didn’t like me back, that it was all in my head.”
Lucas takes Dillon’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “I guess you can walk me home, if you’re that desperate.”
“I’m not desperate,” Dillon whines, following Lucas up the road towards the Hay-Brady flat.
“You’re obsessed with me,” Lucas says, grinning at him.
“Guilty as charged,” Dillon says, defeated, making Lucas laugh.
When they’re at the end of the short driveway, in view of the house but just out of view of the porch light’s sensors, Lucas pulls Dillon into a filthier kiss than before, all passion and teeth and tongues. It leaves them both light headed.
“I’ll see you at school,” Lucas says as he rushes up the path to the flat.
“Oh, yeah,” Dillon says, sounding dazed.
The door closes behind Lucas with a thud.
Leah is in the living room watching a reality show on the TV as she paints her nails a garish shade of pink. “Why are you so late?” She asks with a scowl, and Lucas scrambles to think of an answer.
“None of your business,” he settles on, putting his bag down in the hall before turning the corner into the kitchen.
Ste and Brendan stop their hushed conversation when Lucas comes into the room, looking at him as silence stretches between the three of them.
Brendan raises an eyebrow. “Did ya do it?”
“What?”
“He means did you ask him, yet?”
“Oh, yeah. We’re going out.”
“Ah, well done, son,” Brendan says with a grin, setting down his beer on the counter as they both pull Lucas into a celebratory hug. Ste pinches Lucas’s cheek and Lucas bats his hand away as Leah comes into the kitchen, a frown firm on her face.
“What is all this about?” She asks as the three of them separate. She glares at all of them in turn.
“It’s for your brother to tell you, if he wants to,” Ste says as he pulls Brendan out of the kitchen and towards the other end of the house.
Lucas clears his throat, feeling the tension in the air grow between them. “I’m kind of going out with Dillon, like dating him.”
“What?” Leah starts with a frown, then understanding settles across her face. “Oh, so you’re gay or bi or something?”
“I’m gay, yeah.” Lucas breathes out, and almost yelps when Leah launches herself at him, pulling him into a hug that smells of perfume and nail polish.
“I love you, Lucas.”
“Yeah I kind of got that,” Lucas says, face pressed into the side of her head.
“Say it back, stupid,” she whines, squeezing his ribs just tight enough to hurt.
“I love you too, Leah.” They break away from the hug, Lucas pushing his curls back into place. “So you’re not mad?”
“About what?”
“You really liked Dillon.”
“You saw him first, I guess I never really had a chance,” she says with a pout. “And you snogged the hottest guy in school. How can I be mad about that?”
The next morning, as Leah is searching for her textbook and Ste and Brendan are sharing toast on the sofa, not an inch of space between them, Lucas asks if he can have the night off of work.
“What? We’re already short staffed as it is,” Ste complains around a bite of toast.
Brendan narrows his eyes at Lucas. “Is this about that wee boyfriend of yours?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lucas says with a scowl.
“That wasn’t a no,” Brendan says with a smug smile.
“I just thought that if we could go to the cinema then…”
Leah brushes past him with a huff.
Ste crosses his arms over his chest. “And how are you expecting to pay for that if you take time off work every time you want to cop off with your boyfriend at the back of a cinema?”
“Ew, Dad, it’s not like that!”
“Isn’t it?” Ste asks. “We’re not made of money, Lucas, and you know we need two people a shift or people start to nick the olives.”
The doorbell rings and Brendan stands to take it. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
“It’s just one time,” Lucas whines. “Why can’t Leah cover for me?”
Leah groans from the hall. “You can’t assume I don’t have a social life just because I’m not busy snogging a boy.”
The door swings open and a cold breeze follows the sound into the house.
“Dad, please,” Lucas says.
“Ah,” Brendan starts to whoever is at the door. “Aren’t you the young lad my son is infatuated with?”
Lucas yelps and makes a run for the door. Dillon is standing on the door step, wide eyed and wearing a half open shirt that distracts Lucas’s brain longer than it should. “Sorry about Da, he thinks he’s funny.”
“I am funny,” Brendan says with a dry tone. “Were you coming in?” His question sounds a lot like a bark of command.
“Oh, yeah, okay.” Dillon steps inside, looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
“We were just talking about you,” Brendan says, placing an arm over Dillon’s shoulders.
“Really?” Dillon asks, eyes sliding to Lucas as the other boy is busy glaring at his step-dad. “I was just here to ask Lucas if he wanted to walk to school together…”
Brendan steers Dillon into the living room, presenting him to an amused Ste and Leah with a cunning smile.
“Oh, hello Mr Hay, hi Leah.” Dillon fiddles with the buttons of his cardigan as Lucas’s family stare him down, Brendan retreating to stand beside his husband.
Ste hums. “Lucas was just trying to make us cover his shift. Something about going out with you?”
“Really?” He asks Lucas, eyes wide and shining with hope.
“They won’t let me,” Lucas says with a shrug.
Brendan steps forward. “Hold on. I’m sure something can be arranged.”
“What are you talking about?” Ste asks, arms crossed in front of him. “Who’s gonna cover him?”
“I can,” Brendan explains. “It’ll be like the old days when you were desperate to make bread with me, lover.”
“Ugh, I’m surrounded by gay people,” Leah mutters, flicking her hair out of her face.
“I’m pan, actually,” Dillon says.
“Fascinating,” Brendan comments, sliding a hand around Ste’s waist. “Don’t you all have school to go to?”
“Yes, Da,” Lucas says with an eye-roll. “If you’re done interrogating us.”
Ste frowns. “We were just trying to figure out if your boyfriend had good intentions or not.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lucas mutters as Leah pushes past him.
“I think we all know what happens at the back of a cinema, Lucas,” Brendan says, to Lucas’s dismay.
“Ugh, right, we’re going now.” Lucas says as he grab’s Dillons hand and pulls him towards the door, only stopping once they are both out on the driveway, the wind whipping at their hair as they stand in the morning sun in front of the stained facade of the flat.
Lucas tightens his hold on Dillon’s hand when the other boy doesn’t let go.
“Do you want to tell people?” Dillon asks, wide eyes searching Lucas’s expression.
“I just don’t want to let go of your hand.” Lucas says with a shrug. “It’s so dumb that I’m scared of people finding out I want to date you.”
“You want to date me?” Dillon asks, looking pleased with himself.
“I thought that was obvious,” Lucas says and presses a gentle kiss to Dillon’s lips. “I don’t want to be scared anymore.” Dillon smiles down at him, and Lucas has to resist the urge to kiss him again
There’s people walking down the streets that can probably see them holding hands, but he’s not scared, not really, when he’s looking at Dillon and it feels like home. They’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, but the feeling growing between Lucas’s ribs feels a lot like love.