The Marrying Kind

by

Jay Northcote

Chapter One

“Come on, babe.” Owen slipped his arm around Nathan’s waist and squeezed. The warm weight of Nathan’s arm settling around his shoulders felt good. With the extra few inches of height that Nathan had on him, they fitted together perfectly like this. “I can’t wait to dance with you. It’s been too long since we got down and dirty on the dance floor.”

Their social life usually involved more pubs than clubs, but it was Jack and Simon’s stag do tonight, and dancing was definitely on the agenda.

Simon and Jack were walking in front of them. Jack had his hand in the back pocket of Simon’s skintight jeans, and Simon was cackling at something Jack had just said. They looked so happy.

Owen tugged Nathan closer and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Nathan smiled at him, and Owen grinned back.

Life was good.

There was a long line to get into the club. It was late May, but it wasn’t warm tonight, and a light rain was falling. Owen shivered and moved closer to Nathan, resigning himself to a half-hour wait to get in. But Simon dragged them all to the front of the line and flirted shamelessly with the huge guy on the door, batting his eyelashes and standing way too close.

“It’s our stag do.” He gestured to an embarrassed-looking Jack beside him. “There are only ten of us. Could you possibly do us a favour?”

The bouncer looked Simon up and down—all five foot seven of him. His angelic blond curls were topped with fluffy antlers, and he had a pink feather boa around his neck, which he’d nicked from one of the drag queens in the bar they’d just left. Then he looked at Jack in his matching antlers, and his gaze dropped to read the text on their matching “Groom To Be” T-shirts. The bouncer tried to keep a straight face, but his lips twitched.

“Yeah, go on, then.” He jerked his head at the door.

“Thanks, you’re a star.” Simon threw his arms around the massive bloke and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re welcome. When’s the wedding?”

“Four weeks today.” Simon grinned, putting his arm around Jack.

“Congratulations,” the bouncer said. “I hope you have a good one.”

“Cheers, mate.” Owen patted the guy on the shoulder as they trooped past. The bouncer’s muscles felt like solid rock, and Owen wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. It was a good thing he clearly had a soft centre.

In the club, things got messy fast. Simon did a few too many vodka jelly shots off Jack’s body and needed someone to hold him up on the dance floor. Luckily there were plenty of them to take a turn. Jack made him drink a couple of bottles of water, and he gradually sobered up a little. By the end of the night, Simon and Jack were wrapped around each other like ivy, Simon riding Jack’s thigh while they kissed as if they were the only people in the room, their matching antlers still in place.

Owen was in Nathan’s arms in a blissful haze of just drunk enough, with a low burn of arousal building in the pit of his belly as they gradually danced closer and closer together until there was no space left between them. They kissed for what felt like hours without coming up for air before Owen finally broke away.

He pressed his lips close to Nathan’s ear to whisper, “I’m gonna come in my pants if we carry on like this for too much longer.” He licked some sweat off Nathan’s neck, the hot, aroused scent of him too good to resist.

“Yeah?” Nathan’s voice was a deep rumble in Owen’s ear. “What do you wanna do about it? I could blow you in the toilets?”

A jolt of heat shot through Owen at the thought of that. He considered it for a moment: a quick, dirty blowjob in a graffitied toilet cubicle, Nathan’s lips around his dick while he pulled on Nathan’s hair and fucked his mouth. It was tempting. But no.

“Let’s go home. I want to fuck you.” He spoke the words right against Nathan’s ear.

Nathan shivered, and his hands clutched reflexively at Owen’s hips. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

They tumbled out of the taxi they’d managed to hail in town. The short drive back had been torture, all hot gazes and sneaky wandering hands where they sat in the back together. At least it was quicker than walking would have been.

Owen gave the driver a tenner and told him to keep the change. He needed to get Nathan naked and underneath him as soon as possible—or on top. Owen wasn’t fussy.

Nathan unlocked the door to the flat they shared now, and Owen pushed him up against the wall as soon as they’d got the door shut behind them. Living with Nathan was awesome, Owen thought as he worked Nathan’s belt and trousers open and pulled out his half-hard cock. Having the place to themselves meant they could do shit like this in the hallway, or the kitchen, or wherever the hell they liked.

He dropped to his knees and mouthed at the head of Nathan’s dick, teasing him with lips and tongue until Nathan groaned and gripped the back of Owen’s neck, forcing him to take more.

Owen unzipped his own jeans so he could get a hand into his underwear and squeeze his cock. God, he was ridiculously sticky already from all the grinding in the club. He resisted the urge to stroke too much. He wanted to be able to fuck Nathan once he got him into bed, and after all the booze, he might struggle to get it up a second time before he crashed out.

Nathan was close now, making little desperate whimpers as Owen worked his cock and took him deep.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he warned.

But Owen knew that Nathan would be able to come again when Owen fucked him, and he wanted this. He wanted to get Nathan off like this in the hallway. He was turned on by the desperation, by the ache in his jaw and the taste of Nathan on his tongue. He sucked harder and took Nathan deeper, gagging a little but not caring. Nathan’s legs shook, and he clutched Owen’s hair, his body curving down as he groaned and came, coating the back of Owen’s throat.

Owen pulled off and swallowed, stroking Nathan with his free hand until his cock began to soften.

“Bloody hell.” Nathan pushed Owen’s hand away and let his body slide down the wall until they were face-to-face, his legs bracketing Owen’s hips where he knelt.

Nathan cupped Owen’s face with his large hands and pulled him in for a kiss. Owen wondered if he could taste himself there.

When Nathan pulled away, he chuckled. “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

“Oh, I am, don’t worry.” Owen grinned. He stood up and offered Nathan a hand up. “So get your arse upstairs and get naked.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“You love it, you tart.”

Ten minutes later, with his face pressed between Nathan’s arsecheeks as he rimmed him into oblivion, Owen decided that this was what romance was all about. It was about knowing what your lover needed and giving it to them. It was about making the person you cared about feel good—in bed and out of it. So yeah, maybe for some people that might mean candlelight and flowers and stuff like that, but for Owen this right here was pretty fucking perfect, and Nathan seemed happy with it too.

When Nathan was boneless with pleasure and the sounds he was making told Owen he was ready to be fucked, Owen encouraged Nathan to roll onto his back.

“Hey, sexy.” Owen met Nathan’s spaced-out gaze and smiled.

Nathan smiled back.

Owen reached for the lube from the bedside table and slicked his cock. “Do you need my fingers?”

Nathan shook his head. “No. Just you.”

Owen lined up and eased his way into the tight heat of Nathan’s body. The sensation took his breath away. With no barrier between them now, it was intense, still a novelty even after a year of bareback fucking.

Nathan drew him in, wrapping his legs around Owen’s thighs. He stilled when Owen was balls-deep, tensing for a moment, then relaxed with a shaky breath. “God, that’s good,” he said.

“Yeah.” Owen dipped his head and kissed him, a lingering kiss that sparked Owen’s arousal and set it alight. His hips started moving, almost of their own volition, but Nathan encouraged him, guiding him with his hands on Owen’s arse until he was fucking Nathan in a slow, lazy rhythm. Slow was good. Owen had been close for a while with all the flirting in the club and the blowjob in the hallway. He didn’t want to rush this now he was finally inside Nathan.

He could feel Nathan’s cock between them, almost fully hard again, and he deliberately rolled his hips so Nathan would get some friction as they moved together. He’d stroke him soon, make sure he got off, but for now Owen was lost in the sweet intensity of the kiss and wasn’t ready to break the contact.

Eventually, when Owen felt himself getting closer, he pulled away reluctantly and kneeled up so he could get a hand on Nathan’s cock. He took it in a tight grip and stroked, just the way he knew Nathan liked it.

Sex with Nathan had been a revelation to Owen. Before, he’d rarely had sex with the same person more than once. He’d never taken the time to learn someone else’s body, to find out exactly how to make them tremble, to cry out, to come so hard they nearly blacked out.

Looking down at Nathan, Owen’s heart felt full, swollen and too big for the space in his ribcage.

“I love you.” His voice came out broken and husky.

Nathan met his gaze, and his lips curved in a smile, wet and shiny from their kisses. “I love you too,” he managed, though he was breathless now. Close to coming, his neck and chest were flushed dark pink to match the head of his cock, emerging from Owen’s fist with every stroke. “So much.”

Owen stroked harder, fucked deeper, and Nathan came, crying out Owen’s name as he spurted over Owen’s hand, slicking his grip. The hot pulse around his cock tipped Owen over, and he groaned as he emptied his balls into Nathan’s willing body. The possessive thrill of filling him up like that pulled out a last spurt of come before he collapsed, lying in the mess on Nathan’s belly as Nathan wrapped his arms around Owen and kissed his neck, his cheek, all the bits he could reach, while Owen’s breathing settled and his heart slowed back to normal.

They almost dozed off like that, sweaty and sticky but not caring. Owen’s softening cock started to slip free, so he pulled out carefully and moved, rolling onto his side still with Nathan’s arms around him.

“I’ll get a cloth in a minute,” he mumbled.

Nathan just grunted. He didn’t sound as if he cared about the mess. And Owen fell asleep before he could find the energy to move.

Chapter Two

Nathan glanced surreptitiously at Owen sitting beside him as Jack and Simon spoke their vows. Jack’s voice was quiet but sure, and Simon’s rang out clearly over the assembled crowd.

Owen’s gaze was fixed on the couple, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. As Nathan watched, Owen cleared his throat and wiped what Nathan assumed was a tear out of the corner of his eye.

Nathan suppressed a smile and turned his attention back to the groom and groom. So much for Owen’s protests that he didn’t see the point in weddings and that they were outdated, unnecessary events that were stupid even for straight couples unless they were religious. Even if he didn’t believe in the principle of marriage—gay or otherwise—it was nice to see he wasn’t totally immune to the emotion of the occasion. Nathan was going to enjoy taking the piss out of Owen later. But in the meantime, he reached for Owen’s hand and squeezed. Owen squeezed back.

Nathan’s eyes were moist too by the time they’d finished. The part where the celebrant said “I now pronounce you husband and husband” really set him off. Simon looked so utterly radiant after he and Jack finally stopped kissing and turned to face the wedding guests, hand in hand. Jack was flushed and awkward compared to Simon. He obviously wasn’t happy being the centre of attention, unlike his new husband, but his smile was genuine and the joy rolled off both of them, touching everyone in the room.

Nathan sighed. Owen’s hand was still in his. Their fingers were tangled together casually—just like their lives. They’d been in a relationship for over two years now, living together for half of that, and Nathan had never been happier. But looking at Simon and Jack, he wanted more. He wanted that. But he was afraid to ask Owen, because he was pretty sure what his answer would be, and it wouldn’t be the one Nathan hoped for.

Later they were seated together for the meal. Kirsty was at the same table with her fiancé, Lance. Nathan found himself staring at her engagement ring where it glinted on her finger while the other couple at the table—one of Simon and Jack’s friends from uni and his girlfriend—quizzed Kirsty and Lance about their wedding plans.

Nathan tried to pay attention and join in with the conversation, but he couldn’t help feeling a little envious of Kirsty. He pushed the feelings down. It wasn’t that he lacked commitment in his relationship with Owen. He knew Owen loved him. Owen hadn’t looked at another man since they’d been together, and his manwhore days were well and truly a thing of the past. Owen said he didn’t miss it in the slightest, and Nathan believed him. So, why did Nathan want to put a ring on Owen’s finger so badly? He honestly wasn’t sure why it mattered to him. But he couldn’t pretend it didn’t. Normally he tried not to think about it. But being here, listening to Simon and Jack make their vows and seeing their relationship affirmed so publicly, made Nathan want that for him and Owen too.

Kirsty caught his eye, and maybe something showed in Nathan’s face because she frowned a little, then gave him a small smile before changing the subject.

“Hey, Nathan,” she said. “You and Owen are off on holiday soon, aren’t you? Where are you going again?”

Nathan launched gratefully into a description of their plans—a week on a Greek island in July.

“Not long to go, then?” she said.

“Yeah, three weeks today. I can’t wait. I’m ready for some sunshine. The weather’s been crap here this summer.”

Kirsty wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Too right. I wish we’d booked somewhere Mediterranean instead of the Lake District now.”

After dinner there was dancing and drinking, then cake cutting and more drinking. Tired and hot from dancing, Nathan and Owen had discarded their suit jackets and were standing near the bar for a while, chatting to a flushed Simon.

“So, how’s married life suiting you so far?” Owen asked him. “Must be a relief to know that you can stop having sex now… put all that messy unpleasantness behind you and get used to being a boring old married couple. Maybe you should take up a hobby, like carpet bowls or knitting?” He smirked.

“Oh fuck off,” Simon said. “Married life is awesome. And we already sucked each other off in the disabled toilet earlier, so I think we can safely say that our sex life is going to survive the whole being-married thing.”

Nathan burst out laughing, more at the shocked expression on Owen’s face than the anecdote itself. It was nice to see Owen lost for words for once.

“Nice one.” Nathan grinned. “But seriously”—he pulled Simon into a rough hug—“I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier. Congratulations. You and Jack are great together. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Simon smiled as Nathan released him. Then his eyes glinted with mischief. “Maybe you two will be next.”

“Yeah, right.” Owen’s voice was amused but sarcastic. “Because you know I’m so desperate to get hitched.”

Nathan tried to ignore the instinctive hurt at Owen’s reply, knowing it wasn’t personal.

“Yeah, yeah. We all know your views on marriage,” Nathan said. “You made them very clear after these two got engaged.”

There had been a night in the pub where Owen had got rather vocal on the subject. Jack had taken offence, but Owen had backed down and made it clear that his views were personal and he didn’t have a problem with anyone else getting married. He didn’t fancy it himself, though.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you and Jack,” Owen said. “But I don’t see what difference a piece of paper makes. It didn’t work for my parents, and there are plenty of unmarried couples who grow old together, so I don’t see the point in it. I suppose I’m just not the marrying kind.” He stopped, and his cheeks flushed. “Anyway, sorry. I’ll shut up. It’s not really the time or the place, is it?”

“No.” Nathan said. “You’re the wedding equivalent of Scrooge at Christmas. Now stop being a miserable twat and come and dance with me again.” He took Owen’s hand and tugged. “We’ll see you later, Simon.”

Simon waved them off. “Yeah, have fun, guys. Now, where’s that husband of mine got to?” He grinned. “I’m never gonna get tired of calling him that.”

By the end of the evening, the music changed from disco and pop to slow ballads, and the lights had dimmed. Tipsy and relaxed, with his hands holding Owen’s waist and Owen’s arms around his neck, Nathan floated around the dance floor. Other couples of all ages surrounded them, straight and gay. Simon and Jack were swaying together in the centre of the dance floor, gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling. Jack brought his hand up and pushed one of Simon’s curls out of his eyes. Jack’s wedding ring glinted in the spotlights, and Nathan’s chest felt suddenly tight.

Owen loves me, he reminded himself. A marriage certificate is just a piece of paper.

Nathan and Owen had booked into the wedding hotel for the night. Simon and Jack had picked a venue in Somerset, a few miles out of the city, and the lure of hotel sex had won out over getting a taxi back into Bristol late at night.

After they’d made a mess of sheets they wouldn’t have to wash, they lay spooned together in the hotel bed. Nathan had curled around Owen, his hand on Owen’s belly as he toyed idly with the hair there. He pressed a kiss to Owen’s shoulder, breathing in the warm, musky scent of his skin.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Owen hummed and wriggled back against Nathan. “I love you too. You do know that, right?” He sounded uncertain, and his voice was serious when he added, “I know it’s a cliché, but you’re truly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Nathan smiled against Owen’s shoulder. “Yeah. I know.”

Owen was silent for a moment, before asking, “Does it bother you that I don’t want to get married? I mean… not that you do either. I mean, maybe you do, but I—”

He sounded flustered and so Nathan cut him off. “It’s okay. I know how you feel about it, and I get it, even if I don’t agree.”

“So you’d want to get married… if I did?” Owen’s tone was difficult to read, but his body was tense in Nathan’s arms.

“Yeah, maybe. Okay… probably,” Nathan admitted. “I like the idea of it. That public statement of love and commitment. It would mean something to me. But I don’t need it. It’s fine. We’re fine as we are.”

Perhaps if he said those words out loud a few times, he’d be able to convince himself. Because even as Nathan said them, he knew they weren’t entirely truthful. Owen’s resistance to even the idea of getting married wasn’t a huge deal—for now. But Nathan wondered how he’d feel if they were still together in another two years, or in five. Would it matter then if Owen still didn’t want to stand up in front of their friends and family and make a promise to him?

“Are you sure?” Owen sounded doubtful.

“Yes,” Nathan said firmly. “You’re right. It’s just a piece of paper. We love each other, and we want to be together. That’s what matters.”

“Okay.”

Owen turned his head so he could kiss Nathan lightly on the lips. “Love you.”

“I know. Me too.” Nathan kissed him back, deeper and determined, pushing down the niggly, unsatisfied feeling that lurked at the edge of his consciousness.

He did know. And it should be enough—more than enough.

Chapter Three

The subject of marriage didn’t come up again for a few months. Summer came and went and life carried on as usual. Their relationship was as strong as ever.

One Saturday night in late September, Owen and Nathan were walking home together after meeting some friends for drinks in the city centre. It was a clear night, and the moon was high and bright, nearly full. As they made their way through the more dimly lit streets away from the centre, the stars were visible too.

“Let’s go this way.” Owen tugged on Nathan’s hand, leading him off the street towards the path through the park. “Remember walking this way on… what was it, our second or third date?”

“It was our second, definitely. And yes. I remember.”

There was a warmth in Nathan’s voice that made Owen smile. He squeezed Nathan’s hand. “It was fun. Wanna go on the swings tonight?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll race you.” Owen broke his grip and started to run down the path towards the kids’ playground at the bottom.

“Cheat!” Nathan called from behind him. “I wasn’t ready.”

But with his longer legs, he overtook Owen anyway. He nearly crashed into the fence that surrounded the play area and wheeled around to grin at Owen triumphantly.

“What kept you?”

“Smug git.” Owen deliberately barrelled into him, smashing him against the railings and laughing as Nathan huffed, winded but laughing too.

They swung for a while in silence. Owen loved the cold air on his face and the rhythmic squeak of the metal chains. He was a little dizzy from the beer he’d drunk, but in a pleasant way. Everything about tonight felt good.

When Nathan eventually let his swing slow to a stop, Owen stopped too. He left his swing and went over to Nathan’s. Nathan smiled up at him.

“Hey,” Nathan said.

“Hey.” Owen nudged Nathan’s thighs apart and fitted himself between them. “Remember this?”

He leaned down and pressed their lips together, thinking about the last time they’d done this here over two years ago. It hadn’t been their first kiss—that had been earlier in the day—but it had been the first time they’d really lost themselves in each other. Sometimes Owen felt as though he hadn’t come up for air since. Previously a cynic who was sceptical about relationships and happy with casual sex, he’d fallen hard for Nathan and had never regretted it for a moment.

He slipped his fingers into Nathan’s hair to angle his head so he could deepen the kiss. Nathan put his hands on Owen’s hips and found the strip of skin above Owen’s waistband with his thumbs. He rubbed them teasingly back and forth, setting Owen alight with arousal and want. But there was no sense of urgency. Owen could wait till they were home in their bed. He knew Nathan was a sure thing, and somehow, where maybe that should have felt boring and predictable, it didn’t. It felt perfect.

When Owen finally broke the kiss, Nathan gazed up at him, dazed and beautiful in the moonlight, his lips parted and wet, and Owen felt a fierce surge of love and possessiveness. Nathan was his. Fuck, he was so lucky to have this.

“Maybe we should get married,” he said without pausing to think before letting the words out.

Nathan’s eyes widened, and he swallowed, throat bobbing as he stared up at Owen.

“I mean—” Owen panicked a little. “—it would be cool. We could have an awesome party and stuff. We should do it.”

With his system flooded with loved-up hormones and a few beers, it suddenly sounded like a good idea. Why hadn’t he wanted to do it before? Looking at Nathan now, he couldn’t remember. So what if Owen wasn’t into the idea of marriage? He was into Nathan, and that was what mattered. He could totally do this.

“Uh…. Is this a proposal?” Nathan gripped Owen’s hips tightly now, his fingers biting almost enough to bruise.

“I suppose?” Owen tried to smile, but his heart was beating so fast, he felt like he might keel over or puke.

There was a long pause while Owen tried to read the expression on Nathan’s upturned face, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking in the dim light from the street lamps and the moon. But when he finally smiled, it was too obvious to miss.

“Okay, then.”

He tugged Owen closer, and they kissed again. Owen sank into it, his head whirling with what the fuck did I just do? and is this really happening? But Nathan wrapped his arms around Owen’s waist and held him tight and steady, and Owen kissed him back. They already lived together, so a wedding wouldn’t change anything much. If Simon could do it, he could do it. How hard could it be?

When they finally pulled apart again, Nathan said, “That was the least romantic proposal ever.”

“Sorry.” Owen shrugged. “What did you want? Writing in the sky? Rings in a cake?”

“Any kind of ring might have been nice.”

“Well it was kind of spur of the moment,” Owen admitted. “But we can get rings if you want?”

Nathan stood, then took Owen’s hand and started to lead him in the direction of home.

“Let’s see how you feel in the morning, Romeo. I wouldn’t put it past you to change your mind in the cold light of day. Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

The next morning, the first thing Owen thought when he drifted into consciousness was how thirsty he was. He hadn’t been really drunk, but even so—falling asleep without drinking some water first had been a bad idea. But Nathan had distracted him with snogging and handjobs, and then he’d crashed out.

The second thing Owen thought was Fucking hell. Did I get engaged last night?

Nathan was breathing softly beside him, lying face down with his head turned away. Owen rolled onto his side and stared at the back of his head. Nathan’s blond hair was matted at the back and sticking up in weird directions. Owen smiled, despite the anxiety that was making his stomach churn.

They were going to need to talk about this, but Owen was glad that Nathan wasn’t awake yet. It gave him a little more time to think. Carefully he climbed out of bed and slipped into some tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt. Nathan stirred and mumbled in his sleep, but he didn’t wake.

Owen made himself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table, stirring his tea idly and watching the steam curl up from the hot liquid as he considered his options.

He could try and pretend he’d been so drunk last night that he didn’t remember the conversation. But he didn’t think Nathan would fall for that, and anyway, it would be a shitty thing to try and pull. Owen might be impulsive and lacking in a brain-to-mouth filter, but he wasn’t a dick.

Alternatively he could wriggle out of it. Nathan hadn’t jumped at the suggestion, after all. He’d obviously been pleased, but also sceptical about Owen’s commitment to the idea. He might even be expecting Owen to back out of it the morning after. That realisation sparked a twist of something uncomfortable in Owen’s gut. The knowledge that his boyfriend thought he was the kind of person who’d propose and then take it back didn’t make him feel too good about himself.

Then there was the third and most terrifying option: he could run with it.

Owen imagined a future where he and Nathan were married, and honestly, it didn’t look that different to the future he already had in mind when he thought that far ahead. They already lived together. They were friends and lovers, and their relationship was everything that Owen hadn’t been able to imagine having until he found it with Nathan. Sure, they argued sometimes about stupid things—like Owen being lazy about washing up and leaving his dirty clothes lying around, or about Nathan hogging the TV remote and being totally weird about having to have the volume set on even numbers rather than odd ones. But those were little things, just letting off steam. They never argued about anything that really mattered, and when they fought, it never lasted long. Owen could easily imagine growing old with Nathan, and he wanted that. But he’d never imagined a wedding.

Owen picked up his tea and took a sip, then grimaced when he realised he’d let it cool for too long while he was lost in thought. He was no closer to deciding what he wanted. But maybe it was time to wake Nathan up and face the music. He needed to know what Nathan thought about it before he could make a decision anyway.

He tipped his lukewarm tea into the sink, put the kettle on, and made two cups this time.

“Morning, lazybones.” Owen put the teas down on the bedside table, stripped down to his boxers again, and climbed back into bed beside Nathan. His side had cooled, so he snuggled close, throwing an arm across Nathan’s back and kissing his shoulder. He didn’t want to get the morning off to a bad start by acting weird.

Nathan rolled over, rubbing his eyes and frowning. “Morning,” he said gruffly. His blue eyes were a little bloodshot and he had creases on his cheek from the rumpled sheet.

Owen grinned. “I brought you tea.” He put his hand up and traced the lines on Nathan’s sleep-flushed cheek with a fingertip.

“Good,” Nathan grunted. “I mean, thanks.” He gave Owen a sleepy smile and put a warm hand on his hip, shuffling closer for a quick kiss.

“You’re welcome.”

Nathan closed his eyes, and Owen wondered if he was dozing off again. The silence hung between them, like something tangible, but the thoughts in Owen’s head were deafening. His heart beat faster.

“So… about last night.”

Nathan opened his eyes again, and his expression was wary. “Yeah?” He waited.

The ball was obviously in Owen’s court. “Do you really want to?” he asked.

Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Do you really want to?”

Owen huffed. “It’s so fucking annoying when you answer a question with a question.”

“Well, come on, Owen. You know I want to. I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I think getting married would be awesome. Getting married to you would be awesome. But I never asked you, because you always said you didn’t believe in it—like marriage is Father Christmas or something, but whatever. I get your point, even if I don’t agree with it. But you brought it up, and I said yes. So yeah. I want to. But only if you do too.”

Owen looked at Nathan. His messy hair, the pillow creases on his face, his powerful shoulders, and the pink flush that was spreading down his neck to his chest as Owen stared at him. The tension was rolling off him, and although Nathan’s tone was light, Owen knew him. He knew this mattered to Nathan. And Owen wanted to make him happy. He could do this for Nathan. It really wasn’t such a big deal. It was basically what Owen wanted anyway, just a slightly different version of it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I want to.” He watched as a slow, sweet smile spread across Nathan’s face, uncertain at first, but then widening and brightening. Owen smiled back at him, his lingering doubts receding like shadows in the sunshine of Nathan’s obvious joy.

“Yeah?” Nathan’s voice cracked a little on the word. “Well, then. I guess we’ve got a wedding to plan.”

Chapter Four

Nathan was having trouble focusing on the film they were watching.

Owen was sprawled across the sofa with his head in Nathan’s lap, lost in the action on the screen. But Nathan’s gaze kept straying to the notepad and pen on the coffee table next to his feet. It was late afternoon now, and they’d spent most of the day brainstorming wedding plans. But Nathan kept thinking of more things to add to the list of things they needed to research or organise. No wonder rich people hired wedding planners. He’d never thought about how much work went into getting married before.

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

“I suppose we should tell people.”

Owen turned to look up at him. “Huh?”

“That we’re engaged.”

Owen wrinkled his nose. “I hate that word.”

“Betrothed?” Nathan suggested, smirking as Owen made a puking noise. “Getting hitched?”

“I can live with that one.”

“Well. Shall we? Tell people, I mean? We probably ought to pick a date soon, and we should make sure that the people we want to be there don’t book holidays that clash with it or anything.”

“I suppose so.”

“This is your last chance to back out.” Nathan was only half joking. He still wasn’t totally convinced that Owen was on board here. Getting him to tell his family and their friends would prove to Nathan than Owen was really going ahead with this. He waited, stomach flip-flopping a little, as Owen seemed to think about it for a moment.

Owen reached for the remote and pressed pause, then sat up with a determined expression on his face. “Okay, then. Who should we call first?”

They decided that parents took priority and then tossed a coin to see who was going to get the news first. It was Owen’s mum.

“Can’t we both call our folks at the same time?” Owen asked.

“No way. I want to see your mum’s reaction over FaceTime.” Owen’s mother, Jan, adored Nathan, so he was pretty confident she was going to be happy about this.

“That’s probably for the best. She might bust my eardrums if I tell her on the phone. Stop looking so smug. It’s all right for you. My mam thinks the sun shines out of your arse. I’m not sure your parents are quite so impressed with me.”

“Bollocks. My parents like you. They’re just not quite as… effusive about it as your mum.”

“You do realise she’s going to go totally crazy about this and will probably try to take over everything,” Owen warned him. “She was like mother-of-the-bride-zilla when Ceri got married. She micromanaged the whole thing.”

Nathan shrugged. “As long as she lets us have the final say. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have some help with it all. There’s going to be loads to do.”

“There’s helping, and then there’s calling you every five minutes about bridesmaids’ dresses, and flowers, and menus, and wedding favours,” Owen said darkly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Ceri was nearly ready to kill her by the time they finally got to the big day. She told me afterwards she wished they’d eloped to Gretna instead.”

“I can handle your mother,” Nathan said firmly, hoping he was right. She was pretty formidable. “Just make the call.”

They had Owen’s phone propped up against an empty mug on the coffee table so that Jan could see them both where they sat pressed together on the sofa.

As predicted, she was insanely excited at their news. She screamed so loudly that Nathan was surprised the screen of Owen’s phone didn’t shatter, like a crystal glass next to an opera singer.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’m so excited. I didn’t think we were going to have another wedding in the family for ages. Beth isn’t showing any signs of settling down.” She sighed. “But it’s none my business, of course.”

“Not that it stops her nagging Beth about it,” Owen muttered.

“What’s that?” Jan asked.

“Nothing, Mam.”

“I’m thrilled for you boys.” She beamed at them. “I know you’re going to be so happy. Are you going to tell your sisters today too? Megan’s out with her mates or you could have told her now.”

“I’d better,” Owen said. “They’ll kill me if they don’t hear it from me. I might text them, though. It’ll be quicker.”

“And what about your dad?” Jan’s smile vanished.

Nathan felt Owen tense beside him, but his voice was still cheery as he spoke. “Yeah, don’t worry, Mam. I’ll let him know too. Don’t know if he’ll want to come to the wedding, mind….”

Nathan put his hand on Owen’s knee and squeezed. He still hadn’t met Owen’s dad. Owen rarely had any contact with him, and what little contact he did have was usually by text. Owen had called his dad to tell him about Nathan when they moved in together, hoping that his dad might want to meet him. But his dad had fobbed Owen off when he’d suggested getting together for lunch sometime, claiming he had a busy few weeks and would get in touch again to sort something out. He never had, and Owen had refused to push it, despite Nathan encouraging him to try and arrange another meeting.

“He’d better show his face at your bloody wedding,” Jan said with venom. “Or I’ll be spraying glitter on his balls and using them for earrings.”

“It’s okay, Mam,” Owen said soothingly. “Let’s wait and see what he says before you start sharpening the axe, eh? He might be fine about it. And if he’s not… well. We won’t want him there anyway.”

Nathan could hear the hurt in Owen’s voice. He squeezed Owen’s knee again, and Owen covered Nathan’s hand with his own.

Owen couldn’t face speaking to his dad, so he sent him a text after he’d finished talking to his mum. Cowardly, maybe, but it was easier to break the news that way. He couldn’t imagine his dad was going to be thrilled about it.

The call to Nathan’s parents was less dramatic. There was no shrieking, but they both seemed genuinely happy for them. Nathan’s mum got a little tearful, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue while his dad focused on the practical.

“We’ll contribute to the cost,” he said. “We put some money towards Ben’s wedding, and at the time I put some aside earmarked for you in case you needed it in the future. I thought you might want it as a deposit on a flat one day—”

“I never thought I’d see you get married,” Nathan’s mum interrupted, still looking a little moist around the eyes. “I wrote to my MP about it, you know, before they had the vote on marriage equality.”

“Really?” Nathan was touched. He’d never thought of his mum as much of an activist. “I had no idea.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I felt very strongly about it.”

After they’d finished with Nathan’s parents, they sent texts to various people: Nathan’s brother, Ben; Owen’s dad; Owen’s sisters; and then to their mutual friends—Simon and Jack first, of course. For the rest of the evening their phones lit up with messages of congratulation. The replies ranged from the polite:

Brilliant news, we’re so happy for you both, from Nathan’s brother and sister-in-law;

to the piss-taking:

Bloody hell, how did Nathan talk you into that? Are you pregnant? from Simon. But that one was shortly followed by Seriously tho, that’s awesome. Congrats xxx;

to the threatening:

Cool :) but if u try and make me wear a gross bridesmaid dress I will batter you, from Owen’s youngest sister, Megan.

Owen went online and found a photo of the most hideous frilly pink monstrosity imaginable and sent it to her with the caption. This is the sort of thing we have in mind. U could rock it.

She replied with a photo of her hand with the middle finger sticking up. Owen burst out laughing and showed the exchange to Nathan, who snorted.

“You’re in so much trouble next time you see her.”

Megan didn’t take any shit. It was one of the things Nathan liked about her, although she could be a little scary at times—for a waiflike sixteen-year-old girl who looked like she could blow away in a breeze.

“Do we even want bridesmaids?” Owen asked.

Nathan shrugged. “If your sisters are up for it. We could let them help choose what to wear to avoid any drama. And your niece too—that would be cute.” Owen’s niece was four and a handful, but adorable with it. “They don’t all need to be bridesmaids. We could give them the choice.”

“Yeah. God, there’s so much to think about isn’t there?” Owen ran a hand through his hair. He looked a little freaked out.

“There is, but it can wait. I think we’ve done enough for today. Has your dad replied yet?”

“No.”

Nathan could see the tension in the set of Owen’s shoulders. Thinking Owen could do with a little distraction, he took Owen’s phone out of his hand, switched it to silent, did the same with his, and then put them both face down on the coffee table. He pushed Owen down onto the sofa and crawled on top of him. Bracing his weight on his hands to either side of Owen’s head, he leaned down for a kiss. Owen hummed and slid his hands under the back of Nathan’s T-shirt, stroking his back and pulling him down until his weight was pinning Owen to the sofa. Nathan kissed Owen until Owen started grinding up against him, obviously turned on and no longer stressing about wedding plans or his twat of a dad.

Nathan pulled away from his mouth and worked his way downwards, kissing his neck, then teasing his nipples through the thin cotton of his T-shirt.

By the time he reached Owen’s waistband and pushed his shirt up to kiss and lick at the smooth skin on Owen’s hips and nuzzle his happy trail, Owen had his hands in Nathan’s hair and was breathing hard.

Nathan hooked his fingers into Owen’s tracksuit bottoms and yanked them down along with his underwear. Then he looked up at Owen and smiled, before proceeding to distract him—very thoroughly.

Chapter Five

On Monday they announced their engagement on Facebook, and all week the messages of congratulation kept flooding in. Everyone seemed so happy for them. Owen was glad people were supportive, but he felt a little distanced from it all. Every morning he had to remind himself that they were really doing this and then fight down the accompanying wave of anxiety. He couldn’t get his head around being engaged and having a fiancé. It didn’t feel real. He seemed to be cycling between fear and denial with the odd bit of excitement thrown in.

Even his dad finally replied to Owen’s text. He didn’t say much, and he didn’t sound particularly excited. But he did offer his congratulations, so Owen supposed that was better than nothing.

A few people asked about rings, so Owen broached the topic with Nathan over dinner one night.

“Do you want an engagement ring? It hadn’t occurred to me, especially as neither of us did the proposal thing properly.”

Nathan put his fork down and met Owen’s eyes. He frowned as he considered it. “I’m not sure. Do you?”

“Not really,” Owen replied honestly. He tried to school his features into a neutral expression. He didn’t want to show how uncomfortable he was with the whole idea of engagement rings, because he wasn’t sure if it was something that was important to Nathan or not. Owen felt weird about it, and he wasn’t sure why. He guessed they’d have wedding rings eventually, but he had some time to get used to that before it would be an issue. “I mean, people already know we’re engaged so what does it matter? It’s just another thing to spend money on, isn’t it?”

“Well, they wouldn’t need to be expensive.” Nathan picked up his fork again and dropped his gaze to his plate. His cheeks were a little flushed, but his tone didn’t give much away. “But whatever. I don’t mind. We don’t need to bother.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” Owen felt guilty about the relief that rushed through him. He quickly changed the subject. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. My mam texted earlier. She wants to know if we can come over for lunch next Sunday.”

“Sure,” Nathan replied. “We’re free.”

“And she said to bring any plans or notes we’ve got about the wedding so far, so brace yourself.” Owen grinned. “Hurricane Jan is coming.”

“Hurricane Jan” was about right. They’d barely got through the front door before she was talking wedding plans.

They’d deliberately arrived early, so they’d have time to discuss things with her before all Owen’s sisters arrived and the day descended into noisy chaos. Owen half listened, while Nathan did a better job of keeping up with her. It was sweet how excited she was, but she made Owen’s head hurt. He went to put the kettle on and left Nathan telling her about possible dates and venues.

The kitchen was warm, and the scent of roasting chicken made Owen’s mouth water. While he was waiting for the kettle to boil, Megan let herself in through the back door that led directly into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey,” she said, smiling as she registered Owen’s presence. “Have you escaped Mam already?”

“She’s talking Nathan’s ear off while I make tea. Now get over here and give your brother a hug.”

Megan came, and he wrapped his arms around her, nearly lifting her off her feet. It wasn’t hard. She’d always been slender, but she was thinner than ever. He caught the scent of smoke on her—tobacco, with maybe a hint of weed too. He frowned as he put her down. It was nothing he hadn’t been doing at that age, but still, she was his baby sister and he was protective of her. He knew better than to mention it, though. She’d bite his head off and refuse to talk to him at all. He’d made that mistake when he’d teased her about her tongue piercing.

“So, how’s life?” he asked casually. “School okay? Got a boyfriend at the moment?”

Megan shrugged, avoiding his gaze as she tucked a long strand of her dyed-black hair behind her ear. She fiddled with the multiple silver rings in her ears as she replied, “Life’s boring. School’s boring. And my love life is none of your business.”

“Okay, then.” Owen put his hands up, joking. “Want a cuppa?”

“Yeah, coffee please.”

She hung around, watching Owen as he made teas for himself and their mam, and coffees for Megan and Nathan. Then she helped him carry them through to the living room.

“Hi, Megan.” Nathan stood up to greet her with a hug. She hugged him back.

“Hi. Welcome to the family, I guess. Well, nearly. It’s not too late to escape, you know. Nobody would blame you if you couldn’t put up with my annoying twat of a brother.” She grinned as Owen made an outraged noise and Nathan chuckled.

“Megan!” Jan said with a warning glare. “Language.”

Megan rolled her eyes, in the way perfected by generations of teenagers. But she shut up, took a seat on the sofa, and promptly got out her phone.

Jan sighed. “She’s never off that bloody thing.”

“Language, Mam. You’re such a hypocrite!” Megan said, proving she was listening even while her fingers flew over the keyboard, texting or tweeting or whatever she was doing.

By the time lunch was ready, the whole clan had assembled. Owen’s other three sisters: Ceri, Beth, and Rhiannon were there, along with Ceri’s husband David and their two children, four-year-old Jess and Gareth, their toddler. With ten of them altogether, it was a tight squeeze around the dining table, even with it extended. But they managed, with Gareth in a folding high chair and Jess squeezed in between her parents.

After they’d eaten they all helped with clearing up. Megan tried to sneak off before she’d done her share—in her mother’s opinion—which resulted in a shouting match between her and Jan.

“I helped put stuff in the dishwasher,” Megan snapped. “There’s no bloody room in this kitchen for anyone else to help with drying up. It’s like a zoo already.”

“Stop swearing with the little ones in the house!” Jan yelled back. “I would send you to your room, but that’s what you want, isn’t it? So get in the dining room and wipe the table. Then you can go and be as antisocial as you like.”

Megan snatched a dishcloth and stormed out.

Owen turned to grin at Nathan where they stood at the sink, Owen washing and Nathan drying. “Sorry about my family. They’re so noisy compared to yours.”

Nathan laughed. “It’s okay, I’m getting used to it now.”

Owen knew that Nathan had found his family overwhelming at first. They all tended to be loud, apart from Rhiannon, the quiet one of the bunch, and the emotions often ran high. They didn’t do silent brooding or even rational discussion. Yell first, apologise later tended to be the norm.

“Yes, I’m sorry, love.” Jan took a baking tray out of Nathan’s hands to put away. “But that girl…. I swear I’ve got twice the grey hairs I had before she hit her teens. I don’t know what to do with her sometimes. She’s always out late, doesn’t call. I don’t know where she is half the time.”

“She’ll be fine, Mam.” Beth, Owen’s second sister, tried to reassure her. “Weren’t we all like that at her age? Well… apart from Rhiannon. She was always the well-behaved one.”

“I suppose,” Jan sighed. “But I don’t know. I used to know what you were up to, even if you thought I didn’t. But Megan’s a mystery sometimes. And the temper on her! Dear Lord. Sometimes she slams her bedroom door so hard, the whole house shakes.”

As if on cue, Megan came back into the kitchen. Ignoring them all, she tossed the dishcloth into the sink and left the room. The sound of her thundering up the stairs preceded the crash of a door.

Megan didn’t reappear when the rest of the family reassembled in the living room with cups of tea or coffee and a box of chocolates that Ceri had brought.

Owen excused himself to go to the toilet and made his way up to the bathroom upstairs. After he’d been, he hesitated on the landing. He looked at Megan’s closed door. A Toxic Waste sign was taped onto it over another printed sign that read Keep Out. Underneath the words was an added scrawl in felt-tip pen saying Yes Mam that means you!!!

The sound of angry rock music came from inside, so Owen knocked loudly. When there was no answer after a couple of tries, he opened it anyway.

Megan was sitting on her bed. Some schoolbooks were open around her, but her phone was in her hand, and she seemed to be messaging again rather than studying. She jerked her head up as Owen stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“I did knock,” he shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” She reached for a remote and turned it down.

Owen sat on the side of her bed, next to her knee. She put her phone down but avoided his gaze. She picked up a pen and fiddled with it, clicking the nib up and down.

“What do you want?” she asked at last.

“I came to check up on you. You’re a bit full on with the teenage angst today, more than usual. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Click, click, click went the pen in her hand.

“Yeah. I’m fine really. Just, Mam… you know what she’s like. I remember you yelling at her as well.”

“She worries about you.”

“She fusses.”

“That’s her job.”

Click, click, click.

“Owen.” She paused, then met his gaze, blushing a little. “When you and Nathan first got together… how did you know you were… you know. In love with him?”

Owen held back a smile, knowing she’d see it as patronising.

“I don’t know. I liked him. I fancied him.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him and wanted to be with him all the time. That’s pretty much it. At first I didn’t recognise it for what it was because I hadn’t felt it before, but then I realised it was that simple.”

“But what did it feel like?”

Owen thought about Nathan, about how he felt when they were together. “It’s a mixture of lots of things. Happiness, excitement, a warm feeling here”—he pressed a hand to his chest—“that makes you want to smile all the time.”

Megan’s blush deepened. “Oh.”

Owen grinned at her. “Got something you want to tell me, Meg?”

She started clicking the pen again. “Maybe.”

“What’s his name?”

“Her name is Ali.” She glared at him. “Of all people I wouldn’t expect you to assume it was a boy!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Owen put his hand on her knee. “Yeah, you got me. I didn’t see that coming.” He gestured up at the wall by her bed plastered with posters of emo-looking rock bands. “These guys threw me off the scent.”

“You had Britney and Kylie Minogue on your wall when you lived at home. Anyway. I like boys too, or I have done. I think I’m bi… maybe? I dunno. Maybe not. I never felt like this with any of them.”

“I take it Mam doesn’t know?”

“No. I mean, she’s met Ali when she comes over, but she thinks we’re just mates.”

“Well, when you’re ready to tell her, she’ll be fine with it. She’s had practice, after all.”

“Yeah. But Ali doesn’t want anyone to know. Her dad won’t like it—she’s pretty sure about that.”

Owen reached out a hand and squeezed her knee. “Keeping secrets is hard. I’m sorry. But I think you could trust Mam with it if you needed to. She might go easier on you if she knows why you’re sneaking around. She probably thinks you’re selling drugs or something.”

Megan laughed, and it was good to see her face light up as the anxiety was chased away by amusement. “If I was selling drugs, I wouldn’t need to work shifts at Tesco, would I?”

“I suppose not. Okay, I’d better get back. I’ve left poor Nathan to the mercy of that lot downstairs. I should go and rescue him. You should come back down in a bit and say sorry for yelling at Mam.” He stood up and turned to go.

“Owen.” Megan’s voice made him turn, and she smiled. “Congratulations, by the way. Nathan’s cool. I think it’s awesome that you’re getting married, even though I never thought you would.”

Butterflies surged in Owen’s belly, but he pasted on a smile. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“But you love him.”

It wasn’t a question, but Owen nodded anyway, and he didn’t have to force his smile anymore. “Yeah. I really do.”

Chapter Six

By the end of January, they’d set a date in June and had got as far as booking the important things—like the registry office and the venue for the reception—but there still seemed to be a million things to sort out. But Nathan was getting increasingly frustrated because Owen managed to find something to quibble about every time they sat down to talk about it.

Owen had been withdrawn and irritable for the past couple of months. When Nathan asked him about it, Owen claimed he was stressed about work. Nathan knew that there were threats of redundancies in Owen’s company, so he cut him some slack, but Owen was hard to live with at the moment.

They were bickering more than usual for them—stupid arguments about things like washing up or who was supposed to be cooking. And whenever they had any discussion over the wedding plans, Owen seemed to pick holes in everything.

Today they were arguing about the bridesmaids’ dresses again.

“These purple ones your mum sent links to look fine to me,” Nathan said, angling the laptop so Owen could see them. “As long as your sisters are happy, I’ll go with whatever she suggests. They’re the ones who have to wear them.”

“They’re so expensive, though.” Owen frowned. “It seems such a waste when they’ll probably only get worn once. Can you see Megan wearing that out with her mates?”

“She might be able to use it for a school dance or something. But what else are we going to do? Have her follow us up the aisle in black skinny jeans and a band T-shirt?” Nathan tried to keep his tone reasonable, not wanting to cause yet another argument. “We can afford it anyway. It’s well within our budget. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like the thought of spending all that money on just one day.” Owen frowned. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that. “It seems wrong.”

Nathan sighed. “Well, we could ask your mam to look again, maybe in a lower price range?”

“God, no. I don’t want to have that argument with her too. Let’s just say yes. I can’t face looking at more bloody dresses.” Owen pushed his chair back from the kitchen table where they were sitting. “Are we done here? I need a shower, and then I’m going to crash out. I drove to Exeter and back today in shitty traffic in the pissing rain, and I’m knackered.”

“Yeah, we’re done.” Nathan slammed his laptop shut a little more forcefully than he intended, unable to hide the irritation in his voice.

Owen was already walking away.

Nathan stayed up late watching TV, letting his bad mood dissipate. When he finally went up to bed, the room was in darkness. He got into bed quietly and lay on his side. He was exhausted, but he wasn’t sleepy. His side of the bed was cold but he didn’t want to wake Owen by snuggling up to him.

Owen rolled over and threw an arm across Nathan.

“Hey.” He patted Nathan’s belly through his T-shirt, then moved his hand to burrow beneath it, touching skin instead of fabric.

“I thought you were asleep.” Nathan shuffled closer until his back pressed against Owen’s chest.

“Was. Not now.” He still sounded halfway there, his voice rough and a little slurred. “Sorry ’bout earlier… for being a grumpy arse.” He stroked Nathan’s stomach.

“It’s okay,” Nathan said. “Happens to the best of us on a bad day.”

“Lots of bad days at the moment, though.”

Owen sighed. He sounded more awake now.

“Work’s stressful. I feel like I have to prove myself every day, make the sales, make my targets. We’re up for review at the end of Feb, and they won’t keep us all on. So with the wedding, I’m finding it hard to justify the cost even though I know we can afford it. I just wasn’t brought up to be extravagant. Mam was always watching the pennies, you know? Especially after the divorce. She had five kids to feed. Dad only gave her what he had to, and it was never quite enough. Even though we have all the wedding money that your parents gave us, I still feel weird about spending it all on fancy dresses and flowers, on stuff we don’t really need.”

Nathan was silent as he absorbed Owen’s words. He knew Owen was still paying back the loans that had put him through university, and had worked in a bar to make ends meet while he was studying. He could only imagine how tight things had been at home when Owen was growing up, whereas Nathan’s parents had both always had well-paid jobs, so money had never been a worry for his family.

“I get it,” he said. “And we can cut the costs if it makes you feel more comfortable, keep things a little simpler. Tell your mam what you told me. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Yeah.”

Nathan could feel the humid warmth of Owen’s breath on his neck. He still sounded troubled. Nathan turned and put his arms around Owen, pulling him close. He buried his nose in the crook of Owen’s neck and breathed him in, kissing the warm skin. Owen cupped Nathan’s cheek and guided him up so their lips met. The kiss was sweet at first, soft brushes of lips that gradually deepened.

Nathan’s heart pounded, and he held Owen tighter, breathing hard against a rush of emotion. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. “I hate it when we fight.”

“I love you too.”

Owen wrapped a leg over Nathan’s thigh and pushed even closer, his cock hard against Nathan’s hip. Nathan slid his hand down Owen’s back, grabbed his arse through his boxer briefs, and squeezed. Owen kissed him again and made a needy sound as Nathan’s fingers slipped around the curve of his buttock and dipped into the crack. He lifted his leg higher, opening himself up.

Yeah? Nathan thought, his lips curving into a smile as they kissed. He moved his hand, pushing it beneath Owen’s waistband so he could feel bare skin. As his fingertips grazed the puckered skin around Owen’s hole, Owen moaned.

“Yeah?” Nathan said the word aloud this time, murmuring it into Owen’s neck as he lowered his head and kissed Owen there, sucking and nipping in a way that might leave a mark the next day. He kept circling Owen’s hole with his middle finger, pressing a little harder as he felt the muscle start to give. It was too dry to feel good, he thought, so he licked his finger and tried again.

“Fuck it. Let me get the lube,” Owen twisted away from him and reached for the drawer by the bed. He rummaged around, cursing.

“Want me to put the light on?” Nathan offered.

“No. I got it.” Owen rolled back and put the lube down between them. “Get your kit off.”

“So romantic.” Nathan chuckled.

“I don’t need romance. I need you in me.” Owen stripped off his T-shirt and wriggled out of his boxers, tossing them onto the floor. Nathan did the same.

Naked, they kissed again, every inch of their bodies pressed close, all warm skin and the tickle of body hair and the scent of musk and man. Nathan rolled Owen onto his back, and Owen yelped.

“Ouch, I’m lying on the lube.”

“Sorry.” Nathan laughed softly.

Owen pulled it out from under his shoulder and gave it to Nathan. “I think it’s a sign from the universe that you should be using it.”

“How do you want to do this?” Nathan asked. Owen didn’t bottom often—that was usually Nathan’s role—and even when they switched, Owen tended to be in the driving seat. It worked for them. Nathan loved how sure Owen was, how he always knew what he wanted. He usually preferred it doggy style so that he could push back and give as good as he got, or sometimes he rode Nathan, using Nathan’s cock like a toy in a way that drove Nathan completely crazy.

“Like this.” Owen spread his legs, bringing them up to cradle Nathan’s hips. “But hurry.”

Nathan didn’t hurry. He wanted to make sure Owen was ready for him, so he took his time, opening Owen up while he sucked his cock.

Owen kept up a steady stream of cursing interspersed by noises of approval, his hand clutching Nathan’s hair painfully. Finally he hissed, “Oh my God, will you just fuck me? Otherwise I’m going to come before you even get your dick in me.”

Nathan gritted his teeth as he slid slowly inside. He was almost glad he couldn’t see Owen properly in the darkness, because the sight of Owen, spread out and desperate, might have pushed him over the edge. As it was, the lack of visual stimulation made his other senses more intense. The achingly tight heat around his cock, the rasp of Owen’s breathing, the mingled scents of their sweat and precome all combined to make Nathan fight for control as he slowly started to thrust.

Owen didn’t make it easy. He was impatient, pulling on Nathan’s hips and trying to make him move faster. “Come on, Nathan, please.”

So Nathan shut him up by kissing him, controlling the pace with the weight of his larger frame. He felt the moment when Owen stopped fighting him and gave himself up to it, letting Nathan take charge. Nathan fucked him in long slow strokes, gradually increasing the pace as he felt Owen getting closer.

When he couldn’t wait anymore, he broke the kiss to gasp “Touch yourself, baby. I want you to come.”

Owen wormed his hand between them, and Nathan felt the movement as he stroked. “Fuck, Nathan…. Fuck.” Owen came with a choked sob, his come slicking hot between their bodies as they moved together and his internal muscles clamping rhythmically around Nathan, finally tearing away the last shred of Nathan’s control. Nathan groaned as he came, shooting his load in a series of dizzying, mind-blowing pulses before he collapsed on top of Owen, breathing hard.

As Nathan came back into himself, he felt Owen’s hands moving. One stroking his hair, the other smoothing over the skin of his back. He lay, enjoying the intimacy, listening to Owen’s breathing settle as his heart slowed.

“Wow,” Nathan finally whispered, lifting his head to find Owen’s lips again.

“Yeah.” He could feel the curve of Owen’s smile as they kissed. Then, when Nathan finally pulled away to reach for some tissues so they could have a bit of a half-hearted clean-up before they slept, Owen added, “We’ve still got it.”

“Of course we bloody have.” Nathan smiled.

As they drifted off to sleep, still naked and a little sticky in places, Nathan felt happier than he had in weeks.

Chapter Seven

Midway through February, Owen’s mum called. She nattered to him for a while, catching up on news and complaining about Megan again. This seemed to be a theme for their conversations these days. Megan was still out late a lot—spending time with Ali, Owen knew, because Megan texted him more than she used to. They hung out at her place a lot because her dad worked evenings, so they got to be alone. Ali’s mum had died a couple of years before, and there were no other siblings at home. Her older brother was away at college.

Owen mostly kept quiet while Jan grumbled about Megan and how she never saw her these days. He made sympathetic noises and tried to reassure her that Megan was fine and reminded her how she’d complained about all of them when they were teenagers.

Eventually the conversation moved on to the point of the call.

“I spoke to Nathan’s mum on the phone the other day,” Jan said. “We’d been emailing back and forth about some of the wedding stuff and thought it would be good to finally talk. Anyway… she said they’re coming to Bristol to visit you in a couple of weeks, and she suggested I come over while they’re there so we can all go out for lunch. What do you think? It would be nice to meet them before the big day. She sounds lovely.”

Owen’s heart lurched with sudden nervousness. The idea of their families meeting made the whole wedding thing feel alarmingly real. “Um, yeah. I suppose it would be a good idea.” He realised he didn’t sound very enthusiastic, so he tried again. “Yeah, okay, Mam. I’ll sort it out with Nathan, and we’ll book something.”

“Have you heard from your dad recently? I thought maybe you should ask him too.”

“Not since Christmas when he sent a card.” At least the card had been addressed to both of them. That was something. “But would you be okay with that, Mam? You know what you two are like.”

Owen’s parents rarely had any contact now other than to argue about child support for Megan over the phone or by text. The last time they’d been in the same room together for any length of time had probably been for Ceri’s wedding, and that was five years ago. The thought of his parents trying to have a civilised conversation over lunch with Nathan’s parents made Owen’s palms sweat.

“I’m going to have to see him at your wedding, so I’m sure I can manage to have lunch with him without committing GBH. Just make sure I don’t have to sit next to him, eh?”

“All right, Mam. I’ll phone him and see if he can make it.”

When Owen ended the call, he threw himself back against the sofa cushions and sighed heavily. This bloody wedding. Why on earth had he agreed to any of this?

Nathan came in with a beer in each hand. He’d been there when Owen took the call but had gone to wash the dishes from dinner while Owen talked. He’d obviously heard enough to pick up on Owen’s mood, though, because he offered Owen one of the bottles with a grin.

“I thought you could use this. What’s up?”

“Thanks. Our mothers are plotting. Apparently we’re all going out for lunch together when your parents visit. And Mam wants me to invite my dad too.”

“Yeah?” Nathan sat beside Owen, their knees bumping as Owen took a swig of the much-needed beer. “Are you going to?”

“I suppose. I want you to meet him before the wedding—assuming he’s gonna come.” Owen raised his bottle again, taking several large gulps. Then he picked up his phone again. “I guess I might as well get this over with.”

“Want me to leave you in peace?” Nathan offered.

“No.” Owen put his hand out and placed it on Nathan’s thigh. “Stay… if you don’t mind?”

“Sure.”

Owen’s heart pounded uncomfortably fast as he waited for his dad to pick up. Just when he thought it was going to go to voicemail, his dad finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Dad. It’s Owen.”

“Oh.”

“Long time no speak, eh? How’s things with you?” Owen knew his voice was unnaturally bright as he tried to cover his nerves.

“Not too bad. Yourself? How’s work?”

“Yeah, fine,” Owen lied. With the possibility of redundancy looming in a couple of weeks, work was far from fine, but he wasn’t going to have that conversation with his dad. It was easier to pretend all was well.

Nathan took Owen’s hand where it lay on his thigh and linked their fingers together.

“So… Dad. I was calling to see if you were free on Saturday the twenty-seventh. Nathan’s parents are visiting, and they wanted to meet Mam, and you too, before the wedding—you know? We were going to go out for lunch somewhere to give us all a chance to chat a bit, discuss the wedding plans and that.” He stopped, realising he was talking too much and his dad couldn’t get a word in.

“I’m not sure.” His dad sounded dubious, but at least it wasn’t an outright no. “I’ll have to check my calendar. Can I text you and let you know?”

“Okay.”

“I might be working, but I suppose I could swap shifts if I am.”

“That would be good if you could, Dad.” Owen squeezed Nathan’s hand, and Nathan squeezed back. “I’d really like you to meet Nathan at last.”

“Yeah.” His dad’s voice was gruff, and he cleared his throat. “I suppose it’s about time, isn’t it?”

Owen glanced sideways at Nathan and smiled. “Yeah. I think it is.”

As the date of the family lunch approached. Owen did his best to keep his stress and anxiety about it to himself.

He knew he’d been a pain in the arse for weeks now. Ever since the engagement, he kept hoping that the idea of the wedding would become less scary and that his nagging doubts would gradually dissipate to be replaced by the excitement and anticipation he thought he should be feeling. He never doubted for a moment that he still loved Nathan. That wasn’t the problem. It was just the marriage part that kept freaking him out, and this whole big family gathering they had planned wasn’t helping. His dad had texted to say he was coming, and the idea of refereeing his parents over lunch while trying to impress Nathan’s made him want to flee for the hills.

Owen tried to ignore his feelings, telling himself that work stress was exacerbating things, but his discomfort and negativity continued to bleed out into his relationship with Nathan, making him snappy and irritable no matter how hard he tried to stop himself.

One night after work, Owen invited himself round to Simon and Jack’s. Nathan was meeting Kirsty that evening to play squash, and Owen wasn’t in the mood for hanging around the flat on his own.

Simon and Jack greeted him with hugs, and Owen did his best to smile and push away the black mood that seemed to be permanently fogging his brain these days.

“We’re ordering pizza. Neither of us were in the mood to cook tonight,” Simon said.

“That’s fine.” Owen didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. He’d had another hellish day at work, hours of driving, and then an uncomfortable team meeting where everyone tried to pretend nothing was wrong. But secretly they were all sizing each other up, wondering who’d make the cut at the end of the month and who’d be out of a job.

Owen and Jack discussed what toppings to order while Simon got beers for everyone. Then Owen suggested a game of Mario Kart while they waited for the pizzas to arrive. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and the game was always a good icebreaker.

Simon put on some crappy action film while they ate—straight out of the pizza boxes in the living room, just like in their student days—but they talked over it half the time, criticising the plot holes and gravity-defying car chases.

After dinner Simon broached the topic of Owen’s job, asking if there was any news yet.

Owen shook his head. “No. I’ll know next week. Probably Friday.” The day before he had to go and play happy fucking families. Perfect timing.

The tone of his voice seemed to put Simon off enquiring further. He guessed it was obvious to Simon that Owen was expecting the worst. As one of the younger people on the team, he feared he might be one of the first to go. He worked hard, and his sales were respectable but not stellar. He was unlikely to be seen as indispensable.

Unfortunately Simon chose to steer the conversation in a direction that didn’t help Owen’s stress levels.

“So, how are the wedding plans coming?” he asked brightly. “Only… what? Four months to go now. That’s so exciting.”

“Yeah.” Owen avoided his gaze, focusing on the TV screen instead as a car crashed into a truck and exploded spectacularly in a ball of flame.

“Have you got most of the things booked now?” Simon pressed on.

Jack cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m going to clear some of this crap away.” He started gathering up the pizza boxes and some empty bottles.

Owen glanced up and saw Jack shoot a meaningful glance at Simon before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

When Jack didn’t come back, Simon paused the TV.

Owen stared at the orange flames blooming from the vehicles on the screen. “What?” he asked, still not meeting Simon’s eyes.

Simon got up from his armchair and came to sit beside Owen on the sofa. Owen reluctantly turned to face him.

“What’s going on with you, Owen?” Simon’s voice was soft. “You’re not yourself at all. Is this about work stress, or is it about you and Nathan?”

“I don’t know.” Owen’s throat felt tight. “The work stress isn’t helping, but all the wedding stuff is just….” He sighed. “Did you feel nervous about it before? I mean, ‘wondering if you were doing the right thing’ kind of nervous?”

Simon stared at him, his blue eyes sympathetic. Then he shrugged. “Nervous, yes. But I was nervous that something might go wrong, that I’d trip over or get my words wrong in the vows. I was pretty positive I was doing the right thing, though.”

Owen put his beer down and twisted his hands together, looking at those instead of Simon as he admitted in a small voice, “Sometimes I just wish we’d never started this whole wedding thing. I still don’t see the point in it. We were fine as we were, and now it feels fucked up. I should be all happy and excited, and I’m not, and I feel so fucking guilty about it.”

“But you still want to be with Nathan?”

“Fuck, yes. It’s not about that. I love him. I always wanted to be with him long term. But the whole getting-married part is really freaking me out, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Simon put a hand on Owen’s back and rubbed it in soothing circles. “Maybe you need to roll with it. What else are you going to do, call the wedding off?”

“No,” Owen said sharply. “God, no. It’s not that bad. I’m probably being stupid. If I tried to call it off now, I’d hurt Nathan badly, and I don’t want that.”

“Well, there’s your answer. Hang in there. Push through. The wedding is just another day, after all. Focus on what comes after instead of getting hung up on that.”

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” Owen finally voiced the fear that was at the root of it all. “What if I’m not good enough? What if I fuck it up like my dad did?” He could still vividly remember the devastation of his dad’s infidelity and subsequent desertion of his family. The hurt that it had caused his mam had cast a long shadow over Owen’s teens.

Simon was still moving his hand on Owen’s back, the pressure more gentle now. “That’s the risk you take when you marry someone. But does that mean that none of us should even try? Personally I think it’s worth taking the chance on that happy ever after.”

It sounded so simple when he put it like that. Owen envied Simon his certainty.

“I suppose.” His voice wobbled a little, betraying him.

“Come here, you daft idiot.” Simon turned and pulled him into a tight hug. “Look how far you’ve come. You were a total slut at uni, and now you’re a one-man man. You and Nathan are great together. You’ve got this.”

Owen squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let the emotion leak out as he hugged Simon back. “I hope so.”

But the irrational fear persisted, worming away at the core of him.

Chapter Eight

Nathan had been on tenterhooks all day, waiting for a call from Owen. Owen hadn’t been sure exactly when his boss was going to see him, but he told Nathan he’d call him as soon as he had any news.

Nathan’s phone finally rang just after two. He jumped to answer when he saw it was Owen’s number, totally ignoring the fact that he shouldn’t be taking personal calls at work. He turned away from his colleagues in the open-plan office, keeping his voice low as he answered.

“Hi, Owen?” he said, heart pounding. “What happened?”

“I didn’t make the cut. I’ve been given one month’s notice, so I finish at the end of March.”

Nathan’s heart sank. “Fuck. I’m sorry. But you’ll find something else.” He would, Nathan was positive. Owen could charm anyone when he set his mind to it. He was a born salesman, and he’d done well for his company. It was shit luck that the recession had taken its toll.

“Yeah, probably.” But Owen sounded defeated. “I have to go. I only called ’cause I knew you’d be waiting to hear.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home tonight.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye. Love you.” But the line went dead before Nathan finished speaking.

That night, Nathan tried to get Owen to talk about his work situation, but Owen made it clear he didn’t want to.

“Not now, okay? I just want to get pissed and shoot things on the Xbox and pretend none of this is happening.”

He did a good job with the getting pissed part of his plan. He hit the whisky after a few beers and was at the slurring stage of drunkenness within a couple of hours. Nathan insisted on a break from gaming for food and made sure Owen ate, even though Owen insisted he wasn’t hungry.

After he’d eaten, Owen slumped back on the sofa with the Xbox controller in his hand but didn’t bother to start the game again.

“It’s so fucking shit,” he said.

“Yeah.” Nathan resisted the urge to try and get Owen to think positive. Now wasn’t the time, when he wouldn’t listen anyway. He needed to get this out of his system.

“What if I can’t get another job—not for a while anyway? It’s tough at the moment.”

“You’ll get a lump sum from them, though, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s only going to be about a month’s pay. That won’t last long if I can’t find something else.” Owen dumped the controller on the coffee table, crashing it down carelessly. “What if I can’t pay my half of the rent? Or the bills?”

“We can manage on my income for a while if we have to.” Nathan hadn’t done the sums yet, but he was pretty sure they could. It would be tight, but it should be possible. “And my parents would always help us out if we ever needed a loan.”

“No.” Owen’s voice was sharp. “Fuck, no. I’m not a fucking charity case.”

“It’s not about charity—” It’s about family, Nathan had been going to continue. But Owen interrupted him.

“Oh bollocks. We’re seeing them all for lunch tomorrow. I’d forgotten.”

Nathan hadn’t. He’d been worrying about it earlier while Owen drank himself into oblivion, but he hadn’t wanted to point out that maybe Owen should lay off the whisky and switch to water instead. He didn’t think it would have gone down well.

“Don’t tell them about this.” Owen turned to look at Nathan. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes a little glazed from all the booze. “Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want Mam to worry, and I don’t want your parents to think you’re marrying a fuck-up.”

“You’re not a fuck-up.” Nathan moved closer and took Owen’s hands, holding them tightly as Owen tried to pull away. “This could happen to anyone. It’s not your fault. It could just as easily be me losing my job and you having to support me for a while. That’s life, and that’s what being in a long-term relationship is all about—supporting each other.”

Owen didn’t reply at first. He sighed heavily and let Nathan hold his hands as he stared back.

“I don’t deserve you,” he finally said.

“Don’t be daft.” It was the alcohol talking, Nathan thought. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You’re going to feel like crap in the morning as it is. Our parents will be easier to face if your hangover isn’t too crippling.”

Owen nodded. “Okay.”

Nathan stood, tugged on Owen’s hands till he got up too—somewhat shakily—and then Nathan led him through to the bathroom. “Piss, brush your teeth, and then drink some water.”

Once they were both safely tucked into bed, Nathan turned the lamp off and rolled onto his side, reaching for Owen. Owen turned to face away from him but shuffled back. Already half asleep, he moved instinctively into the position they often slept in, with Nathan curled around Owen’s slightly smaller frame, their bodies pressed close together. Nathan put an arm around Owen and kissed his shoulder.

“Night, babe,” he said.

“Night.” Owen sounded half asleep already, his voice soft around the edges with alcohol and exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Owen didn’t reply, but he slowly relaxed in Nathan’s arms as he fell asleep.

Nathan lay awake. He had too many thoughts whirling around in his head: worries about Owen’s job situation, their finances, the wedding, meeting Owen’s dad the next day…. They all coalesced into a dark tangle of anxiety, and he couldn’t separate the strands enough to look at them objectively. But most of all he was worrying about him and Owen and the gulf that seemed to be widening between them with every passing day.

By some miracle Nathan and Owen made it in good time to the Italian restaurant they’d booked, arriving first so they could hopefully manipulate the seating arrangements into something that would minimise the risk of drama.

The table they’d been given was circular, so they decided to sit opposite each other and make sure to separate Owen’s parents.

“If we put your mum next to my mum, and our dads next to each other too, do you think that will work okay?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah, should do. Keeping Mam away from my dad is definitely for the best.”

Nathan studied Owen, taking in his slight frown and the dark shadows under his eyes. Owen had been subdued this morning. Obviously hungover, he’d drunk a pint of orange juice and taken painkillers with his breakfast before collapsing onto the sofa to doze off again for an hour. Nathan had to wake him to get him to shower in time to go out. He hoped Owen was going to be up to this. It wasn’t really the best circumstances in which to be dealing with family stress.

Jan arrived first, shortly followed by Nathan’s parents. As they were busy with introductions and pleasantries, Owen stiffened, his gaze on the door.

“Excuse me.” He stood, moving to greet the man who entered.

Nathan watched, distracted from a conversation with his mum as he studied the man who was obviously Owen’s dad. There was no doubt they were related. The family resemblance was strong, although this man was older, of course, and was thick around the middle while Owen was lean. His hair was mostly grey, but you could still see where it had once been brown like Owen’s.

Owen greeted him with a handshake that turned into an awkward hug—instigated by his dad, but there seemed to be little warmth in it. Owen looked nervous, his gestures were jerky, and he glanced over his shoulder, indicating Nathan and giving him a small smile. Owen beckoned him over.

“Sorry, Mum. Excuse me for a moment,” Nathan said, pushing back his chair as he stood.

He kept a friendly smile on his face as he approached Owen’s dad, who was looking at him now, also smiling but a little uncomfortably.

“Hello.” Owen’s dad offered Nathan his hand.

“Dad, this is Nathan. Nathan, my dad, Rhys.”

“Hello, Nathan.” Rhys shook Nathan’s hand. His palm was warm and damp. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Nathan pushed down the thought that it had taken Rhys long enough. “Let me introduce you to my parents.”

Once they were all seated, their waiter brought them menus, so they had a focus for conversation that helped break the ice a little. Owen’s parents hadn’t interacted beyond a terse “Hello” and were carefully avoiding each other’s eyes. Owen looked uncomfortable stuck between them, and Nathan sympathised. He knew there were years of pain and resentment stacked up in their past. It was very different to the easy relationship Nathan’s parents had. Of course they had their disagreements, but mostly Nathan had grown up in a happy family with parents who gave him a good example of what marriage should look like. He suddenly had a little more understanding of why Owen had been so against the idea of marriage before his sudden turnaround in the autumn.

Once the starters arrived, the conversation turned to the wedding. Jan, and Nathan’s mum, Jackie, were deep in discussion about the bridesmaids’ dresses. Jan got her phone out and was showing Jackie photos, and Jackie was cooing admiringly over them.

“This is my youngest, Megan. She looks lovely in that dark purple, I think. I’ll try and talk her out of black nail varnish on the big day, though, and out of that sulky attitude.”

“Let’s see, Mam?” Owen asked. He smiled when he looked at the picture and then handed it to Nathan.

Megan was posing for the camera, one hand on her hip, the other on her collarbones, with an expression of supreme boredom on her face. She looked beautiful despite that, though. The deep purple of the dress set off her pale skin, and her dyed-black hair was striking too.

“Now I just need to find some shoes she’ll actually wear.” Jan rolled her eyes. “We went into every shop in Cardiff last weekend and still no luck. She hates anything apart from baseball boots or those horrible black clumpy things that come halfway up her legs.”

Rhys snorted. “You’ll never get Megan into anything she doesn’t want to wear. She’s stubborn, that one. I don’t know where she gets it from.”

Jan shot him a glare before turning away pointedly to talk to Jackie again.

“Dad,” Owen said, shooting him a warning glance.

During the main course, Rhys asked Owen about work, and Nathan winced inwardly.

“You still with that same company, then?” Rhys was saying. “How’s that going?”

Owen nodded, keeping his attention focused on the lasagne he was cutting. “Yeah, same old, same old.”

“That’s good, though. You landed on your feet there with that flash company car and all.”

Fuck. Nathan hadn’t even thought about that. Not that having a vehicle was essential for them living in the city, but it certainly made life easier at times, and Owen would be losing his car along with his job at the end of March.

Owen just grunted, his mouth full of food.

Nathan was about to try and steer the conversation in a different direction, but he was too slow.

“What is it you do again, Owen?” Jackie asked. “I know you’re a sales rep, but remind me what exactly it is that you sell?”

So for the next ten minutes or so, poor Owen ended up describing his job in detail to both Nathan’s parents—from the pharmaceuticals he sold to the territory he covered—and Nathan couldn’t see any way of rescuing him without being rude and interrupting. Jan was getting involved too, beaming with obvious pride as she interjected, telling Jackie and Ian about Owen’s promotion in his second year with the company.

Meanwhile Nathan was trying to keep up a conversation with Rhys, but it was hard when he was listening out for Owen and trying to make sure he was okay. Luckily Rhys was talkative enough for both of them—like father, like son, Nathan thought—and he soon had Nathan laughing at some of Owen’s childhood pranks.

Thankfully the waiter distracted them when he came to clear away their plates and offer the dessert menu. Nathan caught the sag of relief in Owen’s posture and smiled sympathetically when he caught his eye.

“How are things with Meg at home, Mam?” Owen asked a little later.

They were drinking coffee now, and things around the table were quite relaxed.

“A bit better. She’s been staying in more and studying a lot for her mock exams. She’s got this friend Ali she seems to be spending a lot of time with. I was a bit worried at first because this Ali’s in the year above her at school. I thought she might lead Megan astray—drinking and smoking and that, but they spend most of their time in Megan’s room, doing their homework or revising.”

Nathan caught Owen’s eye briefly and suppressed a knowing smile. They both knew there would be a little more going on in Megan’s room than studying. Megan had texted Owen a picture of her and Ali the other day that Owen had shown to Nathan, a selfie of them with their heads up close together—one dyed black, one bleached blonde—grinning at the camera. He’d never seen Megan smiling so wide before.

“Well, that’s good,” Owen said. “I’m glad things are a bit easier with her now.”

“And her grades have really picked up,” Jan added. “So that Ali must be a good influence, after all.”

When they’d sorted out the bill—Nathan and Owen split it, refusing to let any of their parents contribute—they said their goodbyes. Jan left first, then Nathan’s parents whom they’d be meeting up with again the following morning while they were in town. Rhys was the last to go, hanging around until the others had left before shaking Nathan’s hand and giving Owen another awkward hug.

“Thanks, boys. It was good to see you, Owen, and good to meet you at last, Nathan. I’m sorry it took me a while.” He met Owen’s gaze, still holding his hand as though he’d forgotten to let it go. “Congratulations again to you both. I know I haven’t always been a good father to you and haven’t always been accepting of you being, you know… gay.” The word seemed to stick in his throat, and he flushed. “But I’m proud of what you’ve done with your life. You’ve got a good job, Nathan here seems like a good man, and I’m glad you’re happy.” His voice was gruff, and he cleared his throat, giving Owen’s hand one last squeeze before dropping it. “I’ll see you at the wedding, I suppose.”

“Yeah. Thanks for coming today, Dad.” Owen sounded a little choked. “Bye.”

Nathan took Owen’s hand as Rhys turned and left, giving them a small wave as he walked out of the door.

“Wow,” Owen said shakily. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Then he snorted. “Shame about the job, though, eh? He might not be so proud of me if he knew I’ll be on unemployment benefit next month.”

“Hey.” Nathan tugged on his hand. “Don’t spoil the moment. It’s going to work out. Everything’s going to be fine.” But Nathan was only partly talking about Owen’s job, and he wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince. Owen… or himself.

Chapter Nine

Owen got home to the smell of something delicious cooking and the sound of Nathan singing along to pop music in the kitchen. He smiled, despite the crappy mood that seemed to be his permanent state of being. In his second-to-last week of employment now, with nothing new in the pipeline, he was struggling more than ever to stay positive.

He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt collar, and loosened his tie, before heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“Hi, honey, I’m home.”

“Hey.” Nathan turned his head to greet Owen from where he was stirring a pot of something on the cooker top.

Owen came up behind him and put his hands on Nathan’s hips. He kissed his cheek, then peered over his shoulder. “Smells great. Is it bolognese?”

“Yep. I made loads so we can freeze some. How was your day?”

“Not the best.” Owen had never really minded the long hours of driving before. But now they gave him too much time to worry. Nothing distracted him. His thoughts drowned out the radio or audiobooks he tried to listen to. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Why don’t you go and get changed? This needs to simmer for a bit, so we can sit and chill. Do you want a beer?”

“Fuck yes.”

Nathan chuckled. “Go on, then, I’ll bring them through to the living room in a minute.”

Owen went and changed into pyjama bottoms and an ancient T-shirt, then pulled on his favourite hoodie over the top. God, it felt good to get out of his suit. Maybe there would be some advantages to unemployment, he thought morosely. He could wear this shit all day soon.

He sank gratefully into the softness of the sofa cushions beside Nathan and took the beer Nathan offered him.

“Cheers.” He took a long swallow, then leaned back, closing his eyes. His shoulders were aching from sitting hunched over the steering wheel with the tension that he couldn’t seem to shake off. He leaned sideways into Nathan, wanting the warmth and comfort of a hug. But Nathan reached to pick up his iPad from the coffee table and opened it, pulling up his browser.

“We need to make a decision on the wedding rings. If we’re going to get them engraved, we have to order them soon. Can we look at our shortlist again?”

Owen’s heart sank. The last thing he wanted to do was look at fucking rings right now, rings that cost a fortune and that symbolised Nathan being tied to him for life. Owen felt like a ball and chain. Nobody in their right mind should want to make a lifelong commitment to him, but he was too tired to argue, and what could he say anyway? The wedding plans were like an avalanche sweeping down a mountain, carrying everything along with them, including Owen.

“Sure,” Owen said, trying not to sound as unenthusiastic as he felt.

As he leaned in to look, Nathan put his arm around him, and that simple gesture of affection and closeness made Owen’s eyes sting. He blinked, feeling ridiculous. The combination of guilt, stress, and the need for Nathan to just hold him was overwhelming. But Nathan was focused on the rings, already scrolling through the various options and waiting for Owen to show an interest.

“Which are your favourites?” Nathan asked.

Owen shrugged. “They’re all nice. I don’t know. The rose gold ones maybe? But I like all of them. I’m happy for you to have the final say.” It was true, they were all fine, and Owen didn’t care too much either way. “But I don’t see why we need rings at all. I don’t need a bit of metal on my finger to prove that I love you. They’re an outdated symbol of possession, and you already know you’re mine.” He meant it as a joke, but his tone fell flat.

Nathan didn’t respond immediately. He let his arm drop from around Owen and turned to look at him. His lips thinned and a frown tugged at his brows before he said, “Well, maybe I don’t always feel like you’re mine.”

The words lanced through Owen, cutting right to the horrible ball of guilt and anxiety that was ever-present in his gut.

“Of course I bloody am.” His voice came out more sharply than he intended. “We’re getting married, aren’t we?”

Nathan stared at him, his blue eyes fierce and bright. “I want rings. We didn’t get engagement rings, but I want wedding rings.”

“Okay, fine. Rings it is, then.” He tried to soften his tone into something conciliatory. He wasn’t in the mood for a row. “Now give me that, so I can have a proper look.”

They ended up agreeing on the ones Owen had first suggested and a simple engraving—their first names and the year. Nathan seemed happier once they’d made the decision, and Owen was glad they wouldn’t have to argue about it again.

After dinner they watched TV, finally snuggled up on the sofa like Owen had wanted earlier. The solid warmth of Nathan’s body was grounding. Being in his arms made Owen feel safe and secure, chasing away some of his doubts—at least for a while.

When they got up to go to bed, Owen rolled his shoulders and couldn’t hide the wince as his muscles complained at the movement.

“Are you sore?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah. Four hours of driving will do that to you.”

“Do you want a massage before we sleep?”

Owen grinned. Massages from Nathan usually had a happy, and rather sticky, ending. “Yes please.”

As Nathan straddled his hips and kneaded the tension out of Owen’s neck and shoulders with strong hands, Owen gradually slid into a state of blissful relaxation and arousal. He grew hard against the mattress, and he could feel the slide of Nathan’s erection against his arse as Nathan leaned down to kiss his neck.

“I don’t think using your tongue is a very effective massage technique,” Owen said.

“Depends what I’m massaging.”

“How about you massage my dick?”

Nathan laughed. “That has to be the worst line I’ve ever heard. But turn over anyway.”

After Nathan had massaged Owen’s dick thoroughly, with his tongue, lips, and a little help from his hand, Owen returned the favour.

Both sated, they curled close together, and for once Owen didn’t lie awake stuck with his mind on a treadmill of anxious thoughts.

A few nights later, Nathan took a call from his brother. Owen was playing a game on his phone, not paying attention to their conversation until he heard his name mentioned.

“I’m definitely up for it, not sure about Owen, I’ll ask him. Can I call you back later?” There was a short pause. “Okay, bye for now.”

Nathan put his phone down.

“Ben was asking if we wanted to go to Scotland over Easter weekend. He was talking about doing some hill walking, staying in a B & B up in the highlands for a few nights. What do you think?”

“Sounds a bit chilly to me.” It had been a cold spring so far. Owen could only imagine how cold it might be up in the mountains of Scotland in the middle of April. Since he’d been with Nathan, Owen was a lot more outdoorsy than he used to be. Nathan loved walking and they often spent weekends camping in Wales, but that tended to be in the summer.

“Yeah, it might be. But it would be great. I really want to go, I can take a few days’ holiday and we could go for a week maybe?”

“How would we get there?” By Easter Owen would be out of a job and they wouldn’t have a car anymore.

“Train, or we could fly up? Ben would meet us and we can all fit in his car to drive up to the highlands.”

Owen considered it. Although the idea of a change of scenery was appealing, he wasn’t keen on spending any extra money at the moment. The cost of transport and accommodation would add up to quite a bit. He knew Nathan would insist on paying if Owen cited money worries as a reason not to go, but Owen didn’t want that.

“Yeah. I think I’ll give it a miss this time,” he said. “I’ll be busy job-hunting, and hopefully getting some interviews by then. I can’t risk being unavailable for even a few days at the moment.”

The disappointment showed on Nathan’s face, but he nodded. “Yeah, I suppose. Maybe we could put it off, go up on one of the May bank holiday weekends instead? Hopefully you’ll be sorted by then?”

“No, you should go now. It’ll be good for you to spend some time with Ben, and it’s not like I haven’t met him before.” Ben and his wife, Charlotte, had been down to visit them last year. He was a good bloke, and Owen had got on well with him.

“If you’re sure?”

“Of course.” Privately Owen thought Nathan could probably do with a break from him. He hadn’t exactly been a bundle of laughs to live with recently. “It will be awesome. I’ll sleep in the middle of the bed and have total guardianship of the remote control. I can have the volume set at odd numbers all week, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

Nathan laughed. “Knowing you, you’ll text me photos of it to torture me.”

“Ooh. Good idea.”

Nathan hit him over the head with a cushion. “Okay then, if you’re sure it’s fine with you, I’ll call Ben back and arrange it.”

“Totally sure. Go for it.”

At nine o’clock in the evening on the night before Owen’s last day at work, he got a phone call from a hysterical Megan. She was obviously crying and was talking so fast, he could hardly make out what she was saying.

“Hey, calm down, Meg. Breathe.” Owen gestured to Nathan, who turned the TV off, frowning with concern as he saw the obvious worry on Owen’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Fuck, Owen. Mam knows. She knows about me and Ali. She walked in on us without knocking. We were only kissing, but she freaked out, and Ali left before I could talk to her, and now I don’t know what to do!”

Shit. Owen took a deep breath. “Okay, Meg. This isn’t the end of the world. I’ve been through this already with Mam. She’s going to be fine. It was probably just a shock for her if she wasn’t expecting it.”

“But Ali’s shitting herself now that Mam’s gonna tell her dad about it, and her dad’s a right bigoted bastard. He hits her sometimes anyway. He’ll do his fucking nut if he finds out she’s a lesbian.”

“Where are you, and where’s Mam?” Owen said.

“I’m in my room, and she’s downstairs. I tried to go down and talk to her about it, but she’s still really angry, and she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Look. I’m gonna hang up on you now, and I’ll call Mam. It’s gonna be fine, Meg, honestly. You know what she’s like. She’s got a temper, but she loves you. I’ll make sure she knows about the situation with Ali and her dad. I’ll phone you back later, okay? Bye for now.”

Owen ended the call and was already pulling up his mam’s number in his favourites ready to hit Call, when Nathan put his hand on Owen’s knee.

“Is Megan all right? I mean, I got the gist. But….”

“She’s upset, but she’ll live. I need to speak to Mam, though, get her to calm down a bit.”

“Okay.”

She picked up on the first ring. “Owen?” She sounded harassed. “I tried to call you a minute ago, but it was engaged.”

“Yeah, Mam, listen. I just spoke to Megan. She told me you found out about her and Ali—”

“Did you know about this?”

“She told me a few months ago.”

“I’ve been worried sick about her, with her being so secretive. You could have said something, Owen. You know I would have supported her. Here I was worrying she was on drugs or doing God knows what. I don’t care that she’s got a bloody girlfriend, but I do care about her sneaking around behind my back.”

“Mam,” Owen said sharply, cutting her off, “come on. She told me in confidence because she trusted me. It wasn’t anything to worry about, so of course I wasn’t going to tell you. She wasn’t ready for you to know, and she was protecting Ali too. Now listen, that’s why I’m calling. Megan’s freaking out because she’s afraid you’re going to say something to Ali’s dad, and you mustn’t. I don’t know the details, but he sounds like a nasty piece of work. So please, Mam. Give them some space, tell Megan she doesn’t need to worry, and for God’s sake, keep this to yourself, yes?”

“Oh, Owen. What do you take me for? Of course I’m not going to out Ali to her dad. I’m not that stupid. I’m just… I don’t know what to think. With you, it wasn’t much of a surprise. I knew before you told me, really. But with Megan, I never saw this coming. I feel as if I should have known, as if I’ve let her down somehow. I wish she’d trusted me as well as you with this.” She sounded calmer now, and Owen took that as a good sign.

“You haven’t let her down, Mam. But she needs you now. She’s scared, and you need to tell her it’s going to be okay—because it is. Then let her call Ali so she can reassure her too, yeah?”

“Yes, okay, love.” There was just the sound of Jan’s breathing for a moment before it turned into a slightly hysterical laugh. “God… all this time I’ve been worrying about her getting pregnant. Turns out that was the last thing that was going to happen, eh?”

Owen chuckled. “Seems that way.”

“Right, then. I’d best go talk to her.”

“Give her a big hug from me.”

“Will do.”

Chapter Ten

Owen was lying on the sofa, talking on the phone, when Nathan got home.

“It’s Megan,” he mouthed to Nathan as Nathan bent down to kiss his cheek.

“She okay?” Nathan whispered.

Owen nodded.

Megan had called Owen a few times since the drama last week—or Aligate as Owen liked to refer to it.

Nathan left him to his phone call and went to change out of his work clothes. By the time he came back, Owen had finished.

“How are things going with Megan, then?” Nathan asked as he sat on the end of the sofa. Owen tucked his legs up to make room, and Nathan pulled them back into his lap, his hands a loose grip on Owen’s ankles.

“Not too bad. She and Mam have been talking and mostly managing not to yell at each other. Megan’s pissed off by some of the new ground rules. No more sleepovers for the time being, but Mam is giving them some privacy when they’re supposedly studying.” Owen made the symbol for quotation marks as he said the word and grinned. “I didn’t ask for details, but Meg seems happier. They’re still in the closet at school. Meg says she wouldn’t mind people knowing about them, but Ali needs it to stay a secret.”

“And Ali and her dad?”

“Yeah, no change there. Her dad’s none the wiser, and Ali’s trying to stay out of his way at home.” Owen frowned. “I don’t like what Meg says about Ali’s dad and how he treats her, but Ali’s apparently adamant that she doesn’t want to rock the boat by telling anyone. She’s terrified of social services getting involved.”

“Maybe they should.”

Owen sighed. “I don’t know. Meg says it’s not that bad. He’s a bit aggressive if he’s been drinking, but it’s only once in a blue moon he’s actually hurt her. Ali just wants to keep her head down till she can leave home and go to uni later this year. That’s why she works so hard—getting good grades will be her ticket out.”

Nathan could see the worry tugging at Owen’s brow. He was close to his family generally, but Megan really brought out a protective streak in him.

“I guess all you can do is keep listening. Then Meg knows she can come to you if she or Ali needs help.”

“Yeah.”

Nathan sighed. He petted Owen’s ankles idly, and then his gaze caught on the pile of job-related notes and applications on the coffee table.

“Any news on the job front?”

“Still waiting to hear from one place after that phone interview last week. I think if it was good news I’d know by now, though. I sent in another application today and have two more phone interviews lined up for next week. In the meantime I’ve signed up at a few temp agencies. Hopefully I can get something to tide me over, even if it’s not in my field.”

Owen sounded more optimistic than he had done in weeks.

“I’m sure you will. You’ve got plenty of skills.”

Owen smirked, his mind obviously going to dirty places. He wiggled his feet in Nathan’s lap. “Don’t you know it, baby.”

“I’m not sure I want you using those skills in a workplace. I’d rather you saved them for pleasure rather than business.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m not that desperate yet. I prefer to only use those skills on you too.”

Later that evening Nathan was sitting on the sofa, checking his personal emails. He had one from his brother about his forthcoming visit to Scotland. Nathan was travelling up on Good Friday, four days from now.

“God, I need to start digging out all my walking gear,” he said. “And I’m going to need my winter-weight sleeping bag because the long range forecast is for it to be cold.”

“I thought you were sleeping in a hostel?” Owen said. “Don’t they provide bedding?”

“We’re in a hostel some of the time. But Ben wants to camp out on one of the walks we’re doing. It’s a huge route taking in several peaks, and there’s a bothy—a mountain hut where walkers can stay for free—in a valley along the way. Seems a shame not to use it.”

“Crazy bastards.” Owen shook his head, but he was smiling.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us? It’s not too late to book for you too.”

“No, honestly. I’m good, thanks, and busy with job applications. But I’ll think of you while I’m snuggled in our nice warm bed having a wank and you’re freezing your nuts off in a two-man tent with your brother—ouch!”

Owen jerked away from Nathan as Nathan elbowed him in the ribs.

“I wish you could come, though.” Nathan tried not to sound too wistful. “It’ll be beautiful, and I think you’d love it. I’d keep you warm at night.”

“Not with your brother in the hut, you wouldn’t,” Owen teased. “Public sex isn’t my kink. I never knew you were into that.”

Nathan put the laptop down and grabbed him, tackling him to the sofa and tickling him until he was begging for mercy. Nathan finally relented. Still pinning Owen, he lowered himself down for a kiss.

“Seriously, though. I’m going to miss you,” Nathan said when he pulled away.

They hadn’t spent a night apart in months.

“Yeah. Me too.” Owen slid his fingers into Nathan’s hair and coaxed him back down again.

Nathan woke before his alarm on the morning of Good Friday. He looked at the time on his phone—just before eight. He’d done most of his packing the night before and didn’t need to leave home till at least ten, so he turned the alarm off and shuffled closer to Owen, who had rolled away from him in the night.

Owen muttered something unintelligible and buried his face in the pillow. He was lying facedown, one arm flung across the far side of the mattress, and the duvet had slipped off his bare shoulders. All that bare skin was too good for Nathan to resist, especially as he was going to be away for the next week.

He started with feather-light kisses on Owen’s shoulders, detouring up to the back of Owen’s neck. He’d recently had his hair cut a little shorter again, hoping it might help him in interviews, so the sensitive skin at his nape was exposed, and Owen murmured and stirred as Nathan kissed him there.

“Morning,” Nathan said.

“Morning.” Owen rolled onto his back.

He had that adorable sleep-rumpled look that did funny things to Nathan’s belly. Nathan let his gaze roam down over Owen’s chest with its sprinkle of dark hair. The duvet was blocking his view of anything below Owen’s ribs. He reached for Owen, sliding his hand down Owen’s belly to where he was hard inside his boxers.

Owen grinned, arching into Nathan’s touch as he pressed his palm against Owen’s bulge. “You got time for this?”

“Yeah,” Nathan shuffled closer. “Got ages. Don’t need to go for a couple of hours. Get these off.” He started tugging Owen’s boxers down.

“You too, then.”

They both stripped off, kicking their underwear aside under the covers, and then lay on their sides, kissing and stroking each other until they were breathless. Nathan lost himself in the brush of stubble, the scent of Owen, the grip of Owen’s hand around his cock.

Owen came first with a soft huff of breath. His body tensed, and hot come slicked over Nathan’s hand, spilling between them. That drove Nathan closer, but he was teetering on the edge, not quite there. With a growl of frustration, he rolled Owen onto his back and straddled him. He took his own cock in hand and stroked hard and fast, looking down at Owen beneath him, all lazy and relaxed from coming and sexy as hell. Owen looked back at Nathan, his gaze flickering between Nathan’s cock and his face.

“Yeah. Come on,” he said, then licked his lips.

“Fuck.” Nathan’s body pulled tight as he came, groaning as the deep waves of pleasure rushed through him and he shot all over Owen’s softening dick and a little on his belly and chest too.

Owen smiled up at him, dirty and satisfied, and Nathan leaned down to kiss him again. Something fierce and hot filled his chest.

“I love you so much,” he murmured between kisses. “Gonna miss you.”

“I love you too,” Owen said, kissing him back with matching fervour. “But it’s only a week.”

Once they’d showered—together—and had breakfast, Nathan was packing the last few things into his rucksack.

“We still need to decide what we want to do for a honeymoon,” he said.

They hadn’t booked anything yet. Owen had been reluctant to do it, hoping to get a new job lined up first. Nathan had suggested doing something cheap, like camping or just a long weekend away somewhere that wouldn’t break the bank. But whenever he brought it up, Owen was evasive.

He didn’t reply now.

When Nathan looked up, Owen was busy reading a magazine. Maybe he hadn’t heard.

“Owen!”

“What?” Owen didn’t look at him.

“I was reminding you that we need to sort out our honeymoon plans. Even if it’s only going to be a short break, we should book it soon.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Owen didn’t sound remotely enthusiastic, and Nathan felt a prickle of irritation. He knew Owen was stressed about money, but for fuck’s sake. They could afford something. Nathan was happy to pay for the both of them, and he’d said as much to Owen. As far as he was concerned, it would balance out long term. Owen could pay another time.

Nathan sighed. “We’ll talk about it when I get back.” It wasn’t worth arguing about now.

He turned his attention back to his rucksack, tightening the straps. Then, as he was checking the pockets were all zipped, his phone pinged with a calendar reminder. He pulled it out and frowned at the screen. “Oh bollocks. I meant to do that yesterday.”

“What?” Owen asked.

“The wedding rings. We need to confirm the order by the middle of next week at the latest.”

They’d barely discussed the wedding plans in the last couple of weeks. Owen had been so preoccupied with job-hunting and his worries about Megan that Nathan had been keeping on top of anything that needed doing, not wanting to bother Owen with it all. He’d been trying to ignore the fact that the wedding was a persistent source of tension between them, putting it down to Owen being generally stressed. “Can you make sure you do that while I’m away?”

“Surely a few days won’t make any difference?” Owen replied. “That’s your department. I don’t want to get it wrong.”

Owen still had his magazine open and was looking at that, not meeting Nathan’s eyes. His tone was light, but something about it rang alarm bells for Nathan and made irritation flare.

“For fuck’s sake, Owen. It’s not difficult. It’s all written down in the file. You can just phone them and do it. It’ll take you five minutes, tops.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Nathan gritted his teeth took a deep breath. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you doing it or not?” He was losing patience fast now. Owen was still flipping over the pages in his stupid magazine.

“Yes. Of course I’ll bloody do it.” He still wouldn’t look at Nathan.

Nathan lost what was left of his cool.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he shouted. Weeks of having to bite his tongue over Owen being obstructive and difficult finally came to a head and ignited in a mushroom cloud of frustration and anger. “All the effort in planning this wedding seems to be coming from me. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the arse about everything. Jesus Christ, Owen. Anyone would think you didn’t want to get married at all!”

“Yeah, well maybe I don’t. Did you ever stop to think about that?” Owen finally closed the magazine and slammed it down on the coffee table. He stood and turned to face Nathan with his fists clenched.

Nathan drew in a shocked breath, trying to make sense of Owen’s words. There was a long silence before Nathan finally spoke.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He forced his voice to be calm again, trying to contain the hurt and rage that were bubbling up inside him, making his stomach churn. “It was your idea, Owen. You were the one who asked me, remember?”

Owen shrugged, looking defensive. “When I was drunk, yeah. I didn’t really expect you to take me seriously, but you did. Then… I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But you make it seem so easy, and I’m just….” He looked down at the floor with his hands hanging loosely by his sides. All the fight had gone out of him now. “I’m still pretty freaked out by the thought of it sometimes.”

There was a long pause.

“I don’t believe this.” Nathan could feel the tremor in his own voice, shock making his throat tighten and his heart pound. “I don’t fucking believe this. So what? Do you want to call it all off? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” Owen said sharply, meeting his gaze again. He looked as though he was close to tears, so at least Nathan wasn’t the only one. “No. I don’t…. I want to be with you. I do love you—that’s not what this is about. I’m not saying I want to call it off or anything. I know the wedding is important to you. It’s maybe not so important to me, that’s all.”

“Fuck.” Nathan looked at his phone. “I don’t have time for this now. I have to go, or I’m going to miss my flight.” He turned away from Owen and put his jacket on, then picked up his rucksack, swinging it onto his shoulders. His hands were shaking as he fastened the waist and chest belts. When he met Owen’s gaze again, he looked miserable.

“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “And I’m sorry to dump all this on you when you’re about to leave. It was the worst possible timing. Will you call me later?”

“I don’t know.” Nathan could hear the coldness in his own voice. “I need some time to think about what I want to do now.”

“What do you mean?” Owen’s eyes widened.

“Owen.” Nathan’s voice caught, and he had to swallow to be able to force the words out. “I’m not sure I can stand up there in front of all our friends and family and swap promises and rings with you if I know your heart isn’t in it.”

“Oh.”

“I really have to go. I’ll call you at some point, but I’m not sure when. I might not have much signal up there anyway, but I’ll try.”

“Okay, take care.”

Owen moved forward as though to kiss him, his hand raised towards Nathan’s cheek. But Nathan drew back. Owen let his hand fall, and the hurt that flashed across his features gave Nathan a feeling of savage satisfaction.

“I’ll see you in a week. Bye, Owen.”

Owen didn’t reply.

Nathan turned and walked away without looking back.

Chapter Eleven

Owen stared at the door, stunned, after Nathan had pulled it shut behind him. He’d expected him to slam it, but somehow the quiet click was almost worse.

“Bollocks.” He threw himself down on the sofa, his head in his hands, tugging at his hair until it hurt. “Bollocks!” He repeated.

Why had he opened his stupid mouth? With his eyes squeezed shut against tears of shame and guilt, Owen could still see the hurt that replaced the shock on Nathan’s face as Owen’s careless words sank in.

Yeah, well maybe I don’t.

Jesus. What a way to broach the topic of Owen’s stupid prewedding nerves—or whatever they were. He should have kicked Nathan in the balls while he was at it.

His gaze fell on the file of wedding plans that lay on the coffee table. It felt like an accusation seeing it lying there, open at the printed-off page about the rings, annotated with Nathan’s neat handwriting on a Post-it note.

Guilt squeezed Owen’s heart, taking his breath away. He couldn’t lose Nathan over this.

He picked up his phone and typed:

I’m sorry. I love you. Please call me when you can.

He stared at the screen, hoping that Nathan would reply. He’d be walking down the busy Bristol streets to the bus station now, not a good time for a conversation, and it might be hours before Nathan had any privacy for a difficult call. But Owen was still hoping for something, some acknowledgement of his half-arsed apology and an indication that Nathan would get in touch soon. His phone remained obstinately silent, the screen fading and then going black as it went into sleep mode.

The prospect of being stuck in their flat alone and miserable and missing Nathan was too horrible to contemplate. Owen had already arranged to go to his mam’s for lunch on Easter Sunday. He was supposed to be getting the train there in the morning and just staying for one night, but after the row with Nathan, Owen needed tea and sympathy, and nobody did tea and sympathy better than his mam.

He picked up his phone again and called her.

“Hello, love,” she said.

Owen heard the telly in the background, and he could imagine her sitting on the battered old sofa in the living room back at home.

His chest tightened, and he tried to keep his voice steady as he asked, “Is it okay if I come today instead of Sunday and stay a couple of extra nights?”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome.”

“I’ll try and leave in a couple of hours. I’ll let you know when I’m on the train. Can you meet me at the station?”

“Sure.” She paused. “Are you okay, Owen?”

Owen felt about a million miles away from okay. “Yeah,” he managed. “Yeah, just bored on my own here. Thought I’d come and torment you and Megan instead.” He tried to chuckle, but it stuck in his throat.

“Okay then.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll see you later.”

The train was busy with lots of last-minute travellers for the Easter weekend. Owen managed to get a window seat and hunkered down with his beanie pulled low and his headphones in his ears. He tried not to think about anything as he watched the city streets gradually give way to fields and woods, but his brain kept replaying that awful argument over and over on a loop. Owen had never wished so hard that he could go back in time and change something. He should have been honest with Nathan sooner about his doubts. If he’d brought it up tactfully, they could have talked about it and found a way through it. But blurting it out like that? He’d made it sound to Nathan like he didn’t want to marry him at all. What the fuck had he been thinking?

As the train plunged into the darkness of the Severn Tunnel, Owen saw his reflection in the glass and turned away to stare at the back of the seat in front instead, focusing on the patterned fabric until it made his eyes ache. He only looked back out of the window when the train emerged into watery daylight on the Welsh side of the estuary.

Jan was waiting in the pick-up area when he emerged from the station. When she pulled him into a hug, he felt infinitely worse, and suppressed emotion bubbled up and made his breathing shaky.

She drew back and looked intently at him.

“Come on. You can tell me about it in the car. And don’t try and tell me there’s nothing wrong because I’ve seen that face enough times before to know.”

Once she’d made her way out of the busy station traffic onto the road that led to the smaller town where Owen had grown up, she said, “All right. What’s up with you?”

Owen sighed. “I opened my big mouth and said something stupid, something I can’t take back. And now I’m afraid I’ve really messed things up with Nathan.”

Jan waited, showing patience that was unusual for her as Owen gathered his thoughts. He supposed going back to the beginning was the easiest, with the proposal—such as it was. So he took a deep breath and started to explain.

“So, back in the autumn, when we first got engaged, it was sort of my idea….”

She listened, only interrupting when she wanted clarification until he’d spilled the whole tale.

“Oh, Owen,” she said. The disappointment in her tone made his stomach curl. It was almost as bad as Nathan’s hurt expression earlier. “You’re ever so daft. Why on earth didn’t you say something to him sooner instead of letting it get to this?” Owen didn’t answer immediately. They were turning into her street now. She pulled into the driveway and stopped the engine before she turned to face him. “Well?” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, Mam.” His voice sounded plaintive, like when he was a little boy making excuses for stealing the biscuits or not doing his homework. “I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to marry him. On some levels I did, I mean I do. I was just confused about it and wasn’t totally on board with it all, and that’s a hard thing to say to someone. I thought if I kept my mouth shut and went through with it, then it would all be over and he’d never need to know I’d ever had doubts. And even if it didn’t work out—like it didn’t for you and Dad—well, at least I’d have tried.”

“Is this about your dad? And what he did?” She frowned.

“I guess, partly. Maybe I’m too like him in some ways?” Owen’s cheeks heated as he admitted his fears. “Before I met Nathan, I was never any good at commitment. I don’t know if I trust myself to go the distance.”

“Owen.” Her voice was firm. “Just because your dad was a cheating bastard doesn’t mean you will be. You are not your dad. You need to have more faith in yourself. Nathan obviously does.”

“Maybe.” He sighed. “But it might be too late now anyway. Nathan left without us resolving anything. He’s really upset, and I don’t blame him.” Owen’s voice wobbled and he fought back the hot rush of tears that wanted to escape. “He said he doesn’t know if he wants to go through with the wedding now.”

Her face fell. “Oh, love.” She reached across the gear stick and put a hand on his knee. “Of course he’s upset. But you can sort this. Give him time to calm down, and then you can talk to him.”

Owen sniffed, blinking hard. “Yeah. I texted, but he hasn’t replied yet.”

“I’m sure he will. Now let’s get you indoors. I left Megan making tomato soup for lunch. She’ll be wondering what’s taking us so long.”

They didn’t discuss Owen’s relationship problems over lunch, and if Megan noticed Owen was more subdued than usual, she didn’t say anything.

He asked her about her schoolwork, pleased to hear she was working hard for her GCSEs. Then he asked her about Ali and teased her when she blushed and wouldn’t meet his eye.

“You’re so smitten, it’s sweet.”

She glared at him then, although her cheeks were still pink. “Oh, like you’re one to talk. Mr Nearly Married.”

Their mam swiftly changed the subject, by asking Megan about her plans for the weekend.

“We’re going to the cinema tomorrow,” Megan said. “Can Ali come for lunch on Sunday, Mam? She and her dad don’t do anything for Easter Sunday.”

“Yes, of course,” Jan replied. “Be nice for her to meet the rest of the family. Bit of a baptism of fire, though, poor girl, getting to meet all of them at once.”

“Have you shown her Megan’s baby photos yet? We should get the album out.” Owen grinned at Megan, who was scowling at him. “There’s that great one of Meg sitting on the potty in front of the telly, and I can’t wait to tell her about the time Meg crapped on the slide in the back garden and then—ow! Jesus, Megan, what have you got on your feet?”

She’d just kicked him under the table, and it bloody hurt.

“Steel-toed Doc Martens.” She smirked. “And Ali’s coming round after lunch, so you’d better behave, or I’ll kick you somewhere more painful.”

Owen got to the door first when Ali arrived a little later. He wasn’t deliberately trying to wind Megan up, but Jan was busy in the kitchen and he didn’t hear any signs of movement from Megan’s room. She probably had music on and couldn’t hear the door.

“Hi, you must be Ali,” he said as he took in the girl on the doorstep. “I’m Owen.”

She was a little shorter than Megan and curvier, with a pixie face, grey eyes ringed with kohl, and short spiky bleached-blonde hair that was growing out at the roots, showing her natural brown.

“Hi, Owen.” She smiled confidently and offered him her hand to shake.

Owen smiled back. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Come in.” He stood aside to let her through, then shut the door. “Meg!” he called. “Your girlfriend’s here.”

There was the sound of a door opening, and Megan hurried downstairs. Her face lit up as she saw Ali. “Hey.” When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she hugged Ali and kissed her cheek.

The soft smile on Megan’s face was one Owen wasn’t used to seeing. He cleared his throat.

“I see you met Owen, then.” Megan narrowed her eyes at Owen, who put his hands up, doing his best innocent face.

“I behaved. Ask Ali. No embarrassing stories at all.”

Ali laughed. “No, but now I want to hear them.”

“You really don’t.” Megan grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the stairs. “Come on.”

“Bye, Owen.” Ali waved. “Good to meet you.”

Owen spent the afternoon trying to keep busy while he waited to hear from Nathan. He helped Jan with stuff around the house. She seemed to sense his need to stay occupied and found various jobs for him—shelves that needed fixing, a kitchen chair with a wobbly leg. His phone was frustratingly silent, but he tried to resist the urge to bug Nathan by text. If Nathan hadn’t replied or called, he obviously wasn’t ready to talk.

Megan and Ali came down later and raided the kitchen for snacks. It made Nathan smile to see the affection between them. Megan was clearly crazy about Ali, and from what Nathan could see, it was definitely reciprocated. They sat at the kitchen table, their elbows bumping as they drank hot chocolate and ate biscuits, and Owen noticed the little glances, the subtle touches that spoke of physical intimacy. He was happy for Megan, but it made his heart twist as it reminded him painfully of Nathan.

Ali left before dinner. Megan saw her out and came into the kitchen afterwards looking happy and flushed.

“Slacker,” said Owen, who’d been helping with the dinner preparation while she’d been nowhere to be seen. “You get to wash up.”

“I was busy revising all afternoon.”

“Yeah, right.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I bet that’s not all you were doing.”

Megan gave him the finger behind Jan’s back, while Jan gave Owen a stern glance and said, “Owen, stop teasing.”

After dinner they watched some detective drama on TV for a while. Owen’s attention kept wandering, and he wasn’t following the story. Finally at around ten o’clock, he gave up on being patient and went up to his old room to lie on the bed while he tried calling Nathan. Nathan’s phone rang, but there was no answer. When it clicked through to voicemail, Owen ended the call. He didn’t want to talk to a machine.

Please call me, he texted instead.

He lay and stared at the bare walls that used to be covered with pictures of Welsh rugby stars—as much for Owen’s appreciation of their thighs as for his enthusiasm for the sport—and let his unhappiness and fears about the future overwhelm him. What if Nathan broke up with him over this? Owen felt sick thinking about it.

He rolled over onto his side and clutched his pillow, trying to breathe, and let the feeling of panic subside.

When his phone pinged with a text, he grabbed it, heart pounding.

Sorry. I’m not ready to talk. I’ll be in the mountains tomorrow so probably no signal. I’ll call you Sunday night when I’m back at the hostel.

Cold disappointment settled in Owen’s belly. Not that’d he’d really been expecting Nathan to forgive him so easily. There was a lot they needed to talk about, but Owen had just hoped for something—something that implied they’d get past this, and Nathan’s text had done nothing to reassure him.

Have a good time and take care of yourself, he typed and pressed Send. Then he added as an afterthought, I’m sorry again about what I said. I love you.

He pressed Send again and waited, but when no more replies were forthcoming, he sighed and hugged his pillow again, closing his eyes and wishing he could fast-forward two days and talk to Nathan now.

Chapter Twelve

Nathan stared at the words on the screen.

I’m sorry again about what I said. I love you.

Nathan started to type I love you too…. But then he remembered what Owen had said that morning, and a renewed surge of anger and hurt flooded through him. So he deleted the words and put his phone to sleep instead.

On the other side of the small room they were sharing, Ben was sitting up in bed talking quietly on the phone to Charlotte.

“Yes, I’ve left our route plan with the hostel, just in case,” he was saying. “We’re booked in here again on Sunday night. The forecast is okay. There might be a few snow showers around but not enough to worry about.” There was a pause. “Yes, of course. I’ll text if I have a signal, but don’t worry if you don’t hear from me. I’ll call you once we’re back here.” He paused again and his voice was lower when he replied. “I love you too, sweetheart. Bye.”

Nathan felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that Owen was still waiting to hear those words back from him, but he pushed it down. Owen could wait. A couple of days wouldn’t kill him.

“Aren’t you going to call Owen?” Ben asked.

“No, my signal’s not good enough,” Nathan lied.

“You can use my phone if you want?”

“No, it’s okay. I texted him instead.”

Nathan hadn’t told Ben about his row with Owen. He didn’t want to talk about it. It was too painful, and he felt humiliated by the whole thing. How could he tell his brother that his fiancé had only agreed to marry him out of… what…? Pity? Guilt? Whatever Owen’s slightly hazy motivations were, it was fucked up, and he hadn’t proposed to Nathan for any of the right reasons. Despite all of that, Nathan didn’t doubt for a minute that Owen loved him.

But maybe love wasn’t enough.

“Are you okay?” His brother’s hesitant voice snapped Nathan out of his musings, and he realised he was frowning.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Nathan avoided Ben’s gaze and shoved the phone that was still in his hand under the pillow. The alarm was set for 5:00 a.m. He settled down, pulling the covers up around his ears and turning away from Ben to face the wall. “I’m going to try and sleep now. We’ve got an early start. Goodnight.”

“Night. Sleep well.”

Nathan slept horribly.

He lay awake till past midnight despite using every trick in the book to get himself to relax and shut off the miserable, obsessive thoughts about Owen that were plaguing him. Then he had disturbing dreams about running, chasing after something. But when he woke, he couldn’t remember what. He just knew it had been important. When his alarm sounded—cheerful birdsong that made him want to fling the phone across the room to shut it up—he groaned as he hit the snooze button.

But Ben was already moving. He got up and stumbled across the room to hit the main light switch. Brightness cut into Nathan’s sleep-fogged brain like a blade. “Ugh. Fuck.” He covered his eyes with his hands.

“Get your arse out of bed.” Ben threw his pillow at Nathan. “I want to be out of here and on the road by half five. The sooner we get going, the more daylight we’ll have. We don’t want to be trying to find that hut in the dark.”

Nathan reluctantly crawled out of the warm cocoon of covers, shivering in the chill of the room. The heating hadn’t come on yet this morning, and it was cold. He pulled on his walking clothes and started packing the gear he’d need to take with him for their hike. The nonessential items he separated out into a couple of carrier bags that he’d leave in Ben’s car for the duration.

They made porridge for breakfast in the hostel’s communal kitchen, then made several rounds of sandwiches for lunch. They’d need plenty of fuel in their bodies for the twenty-five miles of walking they had planned over the next two days.

When they were ready, they scraped the ice off Ben’s car and set off, heading towards the mountains that loomed over them, blocking out the horizon like the humped backs of giant sleeping monsters. As the sky got lighter, it remained grey, overcast but not too threatening. They left Ben’s car in a parking spot commonly used by walkers at the bottom of a path that led up a valley towards the higher ground.

As they set off up the path, birds were singing in the trees and the crisp cold air filled Nathan’s lungs. His spirits lifted as they got into their stride. The steady rhythm of their feet on the path and the pump of blood in his veins from the exertion was exhilarating. It was hard to feel unhappy in such beautiful surroundings with the majesty of the Scottish mountains spread out before him, waiting for him to conquer them.

Their route was going to include six Monroes—peaks of over three thousand feet. There were 277 in total in Scotland, and a common challenge for walkers was to climb—or ‘bag’—them all. Nathan had only done a handful before on visits to Ben. But Ben had claimed over a hundred since he’d been living up here, and three of the ones on this route would be new to him.

After a couple of hours of walking up the valley, they took a trail that was steeper and rockier, leading away from the gentle grassy path of the valley and diagonally up a steep slope that stretched away towards a rocky peak. They stopped after another couple of hours to eat some energy bars, before heading on towards the first peak.

They stopped for lunch at a point where the path levelled a little. The steepest part of the morning climb was done, with a gentler incline coming next along a ridge that led to the first Monroe of the day. The clouds had thickened, but the visibility was still good. They sat and leaned back against a rock, gazing out over the view as they ate. The lowering clouds might obscure that view later, so they needed to appreciate it while they could. It was spectacular. The road they’d left this morning was a barely visible ribbon of grey weaving between the huge mountains on either side. The green slopes rose, turning into grey scree and rocky crags at the peaks. A few patches of snow were visible on the highest points.

Sure enough, a little later the clouds dropped lower, icy and damp. Nathan and Ben stopped to put on waterproofs because walking through cloud was like walking through fine mist. It could soak you to the bone surprisingly quickly. As they walked along the ridge, the rocks were slippery now and the temperature had dropped sharply. A sense of unreality crept over Nathan as he kept his eyes fixed on what he could see of the path in front. He couldn’t see more than a ten-metre radius, and it was strange knowing he was high up on a mountain ridge when he couldn’t see the ground drop away on either side.

The cloud persisted for the rest of the day with hardly a break. Every now and again it would lift a little, and once or twice the sun even broke through, but never for long. The lack of views didn’t stop the feeling of achievement as they reached each new peak. Ben was map reading, keeping a close eye on the compass, and taking bearings whenever he could. But Nathan was still relieved at each marker they reached. It would be so easy to wander off route and get lost in this.

They made it to the bothy right on schedule, shortly before the sky began to darken. It was basic accommodation, nothing more than a stone hut with a fireplace and a couple of wooden bunks, but Nathan had never been more glad of shelter. His legs were aching, and he had what felt like a nasty blister developing on one of his heels. Completely exhausted, he was confident he’d sleep well tonight. Even worries about Owen and the wedding wouldn’t be able to stop him from passing out as soon as he got into his sleeping bag.

They built a fire for warmth with some wood that had been left by another user of the hut. They were grateful for that, because it was too wet outside to collect any fresh firewood. Once the fire was going, they heated up tins of beef stew and macaroni cheese on Ben’s camping cooker. It was an odd and not very appealing combination, but it was warm and filling, and Nathan gobbled it down so fast it barely touched the sides.

As they settled down in their sleeping bags, Ben turned his phone on.

“Have you got a signal?” Nathan asked.

Ben stared at the screen for a moment. “No. I should have checked while we were up high—might have had some luck then.” He switched it off again. “Never mind. Charlotte won’t have been expecting to hear from me till tomorrow anyway.”

Nathan didn’t even bother to turn his phone on. Chances were he’d have no signal, and even if he did, he wasn’t ready to read any more texts from Owen.

He’d spent a lot of time thinking today as they’d walked long stretches in silence, breathless from the exertion of the climb and concentrating on not slipping on the treacherous rocks once the cloud came down. Nathan wasn’t any closer to deciding what to do. He felt trapped between two equally unappealing forks in the road.

They could cancel the wedding and put a halt to the plans to give Owen time to work out what the hell he wanted from their relationship, but so much time and effort had already gone into planning it, and both their families were involved. It would be mortifying to have to admit that Owen was having second thoughts. Nathan couldn’t bear the idea of people knowing and feeling sorry for him. Plus if they cancelled or postponed, even if they worked things out and ended up staying together—married or otherwise—people would always know. There was no way they could deal with it privately now. Wedding planning had made their relationship public property.

But the second alternative was hardly preferable. Going through with a wedding, pretending that everything was perfect and they were blissfully happy, while knowing Owen wasn’t completely one hundred percent on board with their marriage? Nathan couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t. He needed to be sure that Owen wanted this as much as he did. Otherwise what was the point?

Exhaustion overcame him, and his eyelids started to droop.

“Have you set an alarm?” he asked Ben.

“Yeah, on my watch. Six o’clock okay with you? That should give us plenty of time to get up to the next ridge and back around the loop to the car park before dark.”

“Yeah.” Nathan yawned. “Okay, then. I’m knackered. Good night. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

When Ben switched off the torch they’d been using, the only light came from the glow of the embers in the hearth. Blackness surrounded them like velvet, and the night was quiet.

Nathan closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning Nathan was stiff and sore from the long walk the day before. He got up and stretched, feeling the ache in his muscles. He was fit, but he was more of a runner than a walker. He wasn’t used to long distances and endurance. Ben was the walker of the family, and Nathan might struggle to keep up with him today.

He made sure to dress the blister he’d got yesterday before they set off, not wanting to slow them down.

They left the valley and headed up a grassy path that soon turned steep and then led across a loose scree slope. The path led diagonally across it rather than directly up, but it was hard going despite that. Nathan slipped once or twice, and the stones he dislodged went skittering down the steep slope to his right, making his stomach lurch at the thought of following them down if he lost his footing.

They stopped for a snack midmorning, sheltering in the lee of a rocky outcrop. It was colder today, and the wind had come up a little. The sky was grey as they set off for the last steep climb towards the ridge, and a few stinging drops of fine rain began to fall.

After another break for lunch, they set off across the ridge. It was more exposed and challenging than the one they’d walked yesterday, involving more scrambling than walking, with dizzying drops on either side of some of the narrowest sections. Adrenaline kicked in, and Nathan forgot about his tired muscles and painful blisters. His sole aim was to keep his footing and make it across to the relative safety of the final summit. After that it was a long, but easy walk down to the place where they’d left Ben’s car.

The snow, when it came, was completely unexpected. Nathan had been so focused on making it across safely that he hadn’t noticed the darkening sky. Without warning, the fine drizzle turned into white flakes that stuck to the rocks. The snowflakes melted on the rocks’ wet surface at first, but soon began to win the battle by their sheer volume, beginning to stick and cover the grey with a layer of perilous slippery white.

Ben, who was leading the way, stopped and turned to Nathan. “Are you okay to carry on to the end of the ridge?”

Nathan nodded. They were so close now—it couldn’t be more than a couple of hundred metres at most. And the longer they waited, the thicker the snow would get. It was falling harder now, whiting out the landscape around them. “Yeah. Keep going.”

They slipped and slithered their way along. Nathan’s heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. He couldn’t see how far they had to go, but they went steadily, eating up the distance, and Nathan knew they must be almost there.

Then he stumbled. His boot lost its grip, and he lurched sideways, yelling at the sharp, tearing pain in his ankle. He lost his balance, arms wheeling as he tried and failed to right himself. He fell, his head hit hard rock, and everything went black.

Chapter Thirteen

Owen hadn’t been planning on talking to Megan about what was going on with him and Nathan. But she noticed his low mood and dragged it out of him on Saturday afternoon. She was surprisingly sympathetic, listening and only taking the piss a little when Owen told her about the accidental proposal.

“Oh my God. Only you, Owen, I swear,” she said.

Then he confessed the doubts he’d had as the wedding plans progressed, and how he’d been stupid enough to blurt out things in anger without thinking about how it would sound. “And now I’m afraid he’s going to call it off. Maybe even break up with me.”

Megan was quiet then. “It is scary, though, isn’t it? Even just agreeing to be with someone… to be in a relationship. I was dead scared when Ali first told me how she felt, even though I was glad too. But knowing she really cared about me… I dunno. I don’t like having that power over her, that power to hurt her if it goes wrong.”

Owen stared at her as some puzzle pieces slotted into place in his head.

“What?” she said defensively.

“No, you’re right. That’s part of it. I didn’t trust myself not to hurt him. But the irony is that I went and hurt him anyway. I’m such an idiot. I should never have said anything.”

She shrugged. “Bit late for that. But you can fix it. You said something stupid and hurt his feelings, but it’s not like you’ve been cheating on him or something. You can sort it out.” She frowned. “You do still want to marry him, yeah?”

“Yeah. I really do.” After a day and a half of thinking about nothing else, Owen was sure like he’d never been sure before.

“Well, you need to show him, then.”

“But how?”

“Propose again when he gets back. Do it properly this time, and tell him how much he means to you. The poor bloke’s stuck thinking you only proposed because you were drunk. You need to do it right this time.”

Owen nodded, his mind already turning over with ideas. He smiled. “Yeah. I think that might work. Thanks, Meg.”

She grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Owen checked his phone again while he was supposed to be chopping the potatoes Megan was peeling. It was only ten on Sunday morning, but with the rest of the family due later, there were piles of veg to prepare. He knew it was stupid to look again. He wasn’t likely to hear anything from Nathan till Nathan got back to the hostel tonight, but Owen couldn’t help himself. He kept getting his phone out and checking the ringer was on, worried he might have missed a message.

“Still nothing from Nathan?” Megan asked sympathetically.

“No,” he sighed. At least he’d be distracted today. With a houseful of people demanding his attention, he wouldn’t have much time to mope.

The doorbell rang, followed by the frantic hammering of a fist on the wood.

Jan got there first, with Megan and Owen close behind her, hurrying to see what the commotion was.

Ali stumbled inside, her chest heaving, face streaked with tears. One of her cheeks had a vivid mark on it, red but already beginning to turn purple at the edges.

“Oh my God—” “Ali! What—?”

Megan and Jan both spoke at once. Megan pushed past Owen and Jan to get to Ali.

Ali fell into her arms and started to sob so hysterically that she couldn’t get out any words.

“Bring her into the lounge,” Jan said.

They sat Ali on the sofa. Megan sat down too and put her arm around her, soothing her, murmuring quiet words that Owen couldn’t make out as Megan stroked Ali’s hair away from her face with her free hand.

Jan got a bag of peas from the freezer, wrapped them in a tea towel, and handed them to Ali. “Hold this on that bruise for a while, love. Are you hurt anywhere else?” She crouched down in front of Ali.

“Not really,” Ali managed, gulping and sniffling as she started to calm a little. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Jan’s face was set in a grim frown that told Owen she thought it was exactly as bad as it looked and whoever did this to Ali was lucky that they weren’t in the vicinity right now.

“Was it your dad?” Megan asked, her voice tight and angry.

Ali nodded, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Then the words started tumbling out of her, her voice wobbly but clear.

“I’d left my laptop open in my bedroom—I was in the bathroom. I don’t know what he was doing in my room, he never normally goes in there. But anyway, I think I had Tumblr open and I follow lots of LGBT blogs. It wasn’t anything bad, not like porn or whatever, but there were pictures of girls kissing… stuff like that, and he went mental over it. When I came back in, he was there, scrolling through it, and he’d opened my emails and read one from you, Meg.” She met Megan’s gaze and gave a watery smile. “The one where I’d been to visit my brother last weekend and you said you’d missed me and been thinking about me nonstop.”

Megan gasped. “I’m sorry. I never thought—”

“No!” Ali took her hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“So Ali, love,” Jan said, her voice soft but with a core of steel, “what did he do?”

“He hit the roof is what he did. Yelling, swearing and calling me a filthy dyke. I yelled back at him, told him he had no right going through my personal stuff like that. He told me while I lived under his roof, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted—sorry, Jan, but that’s what he said—and then he smacked me in the face. He grabbed onto my arm, holding me really hard, and I was scared he was going to hit me again, so I kneed him in the balls as hard as I could. When he let go of me, I ran. I didn’t stop till I got here.” She paused, breathing hard, tearful again. “He’s going to kill me when he gets his hands on me.”

Anger boiled in Owen’s gut. He clenched his fists. If he knew where Ali lived, he’d already be on his way round there to give her dad a taste of his own medicine.

Megan was crying too now. “He’s such a fucking bastard!” she snarled, furious and impotent.

For once, Jan didn’t tell her off for swearing. Owen suspected she was of the same opinion as Megan.

“He’s not getting his hands on you,” Jan said. “Not if I have anything to do with it. But Ali, if you want to be safe, we’re going to need to tell the police. Report him. You can stay here as long as you need. I’m not having you going back there.”

“No.” Ali shook her head emphatically. “I don’t want to go to the police. Can’t I just stay here anyway? I’m eighteen. I’m old enough to leave home if I have somewhere to go. Please?”

Jan sighed. She met Owen’s gaze for a moment, and he could see her mind working, coming up with a plan.

They turned up on the doorstep of Ali’s house that afternoon.

Owen, Jan, Ali, and Owen’s brother-in-law, Dave, drove there in Jan’s car. Megan had wanted to come, but Jan had insisted she wait back at the house with her sisters and the children, and Owen had backed her up. Meg was so furious that he didn’t trust her not to cause trouble they were trying to avoid. Ali had left her keys behind in her rush to leave, so Owen led the way up the front path and banged on the door until Ali’s dad—Brian—answered.

“Ali, what’s going on? Who the hell are these people?” Brian asked, frowning in confusion.

Owen resisted the urge to answer something cheesy like Your worst nightmare and went with, “We’ve come to get her stuff.” He glared at Brian, fists clenched and ready to fight if he needed to. He was still furious on Ali’s behalf and would punch this homophobic twat in the face if he gave him any reason at all.

Brian looked as though he might argue for a moment, but then he looked over Owen’s shoulder at Dave, who was a rugby prop forward, and seemed to think better of it. He stood aside, scowling, as Owen shouldered roughly past him followed by the others, Ali holding tight to Jan’s hand. “What friends?” He addressed Ali. “Where are you going? This is your home. You can’t just leave.”

“Yes, she bloody well can,” Owen replied. “She’s eighteen, and she can leave home anytime she chooses.” He spat out the word “home,” giving it the contempt it deserved. No one should be being knocked about in their home by the person who was supposed to love them and take care of them.

“He’s right, Dad,” Ali spoke up, her voice shaky but clear as she drew herself up and looked him in the eye.

Owen felt so damn proud of her then, facing the man who’d hit her in the face earlier that morning. That took guts. “You can’t make me stay. This is Jan, Meg’s mam, and she says I can stay there as long as I need. I think it’s better if I go.”

“Ah, come on, love,” his tone softened, almost pleading now. “I’m sorry about this morning. It was a shock to find out—you know. Maybe I overreacted.”

“Too right you did.” Owen snapped. “Now get out of our way and let Ali pack up her stuff.”

“You’ve got no right, barging in here and ordering me about in my own home,” Brian shouted. “She’s my daughter. She’s staying under this roof!”

Owen bristled. Fists clenched, he took a step forward. But Jan stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

“No,” she said, and her voice was like cold steel. “She’s not staying here another night unless she wants to. And as for you, you’re bloody lucky we didn’t call the police as soon as she turned up on the doorstep this morning. Look at her face! That’s assault, plain and simple. Now are you going to let us past? Or I am going to make that call to the coppers?”

There was a long, tense pause. Brian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His face was flushed dark red with fury, but he seemed to think better of arguing any more. He moved aside, gesturing mutely to the stairs, and glared at them as they passed.

He stayed out of their way while they helped Ali pack, and he didn’t come out to say goodbye. They could hear the sound of the TV coming from the front room, signalling his presence, and Ali hovered near the half-open door as though undecided about whether to go in. But then she shrugged, held her head high, and led the way out.

In the car on the way back, she sat next to Owen. She was silent, staring out of the window as they drove the short distance. Her jaw was set, but a tear escaped, trickling down her cheek unchecked. Owen’s heart squeezed, remembering how he’d felt when his dad had been less than accepting of his sexuality. He wanted to tell her that things would get better, but he wasn’t sure if she’d believe him right now.

That night, after a dinner of lunchtime leftovers, Owen was sitting on the sofa with Jan suffering through the EastEnders Omnibus. The rest of the family were long gone. Meg and Ali were upstairs, Ali was still very shaken up, and Jan had obviously decided they needed a bit of space. Ali might have her own bedroom in the house now, but Jan wasn’t making a fuss about them being holed up in Megan’s room for the evening.

Owen still hadn’t heard anything from Nathan, and he was getting increasingly impatient to talk to him now all the busy distraction of the day was over. He sent him another text.

Hope the hike was good. Missing you. Please call when you can x

By nine o’clock Owen was still waiting. He called Nathan’s number, but it went to voicemail. Surely he must be back at the hostel by now? He’d had a signal there on Friday night, so he should be getting Owen’s messages and missed calls. Angry and upset, Owen texted again.

For fuck’s sake Nathan. CALL ME. We need to fix this.

But when his phone finally rang at half past ten, he didn’t recognise the number on the screen.

“Hello?” he said impatiently. He didn’t want his phone to be engaged in case Nathan tried to get through.

“Owen? It’s Charlotte.”

Her voice sounded strained, and Owen knew instantly that something was badly wrong. Cold fear washed through him, turning his stomach to water. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jan switched the TV off and turned to look at him, her eyes wide with concern and unspoken questions.

“I’m sorry, Owen,” Charlotte said. “But Ben and Nathan are missing. There was snow up in the mountains, and they haven’t made it down yet.”

Owen’s mind went blank with panic. He had so many questions, but he didn’t know where to begin. “Are there people looking for them?”

“Yes, Mountain Rescue are on their way.”

“Oh God.”

“Owen. Ben’s experienced. He’ll know what to do, how to keep warm, how to stay safe. They’ll be fine.” But the tremble in Charlotte’s voice betrayed her fear, and her words did nothing to reassure Owen. He felt sick at the thought of Nathan stuck out in the snow somewhere, lost, freezing, injured…. His stomach lurched, and he thought he might actually puke.

“I’ll come up there,” he said. The thought of sitting here waiting for news was unbearable. He needed to be there, to do something. Maybe he could join a search party. “I’ll get there as soon as I can, I’m not sure how—train, plane—but I’m coming. Call me if you hear anything, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, Owen.”

“Bye.” He ended the call with a trembling finger.

“Take my car,” Jan said after he’d filled her in on what little he knew. “It’s the easiest way. Even if you can get a flight, you’d have to hire a car from Glasgow airport anyway.”

“Thanks, Mam.”

He was packed and on the road within half an hour, with an eight-and-a-half-hour trip ahead of him.

“Okay, Nathan. You’d better be keeping safe up there,” he muttered to himself as he put the car in gear and pulled away. “I’m coming.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Nathan… Nathan! Wake up, you fucker. Don’t do this to me.” The sound of Ben’s panicked voice and a gloved hand cuffing his face repeatedly brought Nathan back from the blackness into the confusing, whirling whiteness of the blizzard.

“It’s okay. I’m awake.” Pain lanced through the back of his skull and black spots swam amid the white flakes.

“Where are you hurt? How bad is it?”

Nathan did a quick mental body scan, trying to zero in on which bits of him didn’t feel right. “I hit my head for sure,” he said. He put his hand up feeling a bump on the back of his head, but his glove came away clean, so he didn’t appear to be bleeding. Luckily his hat had offered some protection. “I think I twisted my ankle too.” He tried to move it. “Ouch, yeah. That doesn’t feel too good.” He pulled himself into a sitting position, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

“What day is it?” Ben asked.

Nathan blinked, confused. “Sunday?”

“Where are we?”

“In the mountains in the middle of bloody nowhere.”

Ben chuckled. “Good to see your sense of humour’s intact. Can you walk?”

“I don’t know.” Nathan got up slowly and winced as he tried to put weight on his ankle. “Just about.”

“Let’s try and make it off the ridge, and then we can stop for a while and work out what to do.”

Ben stayed with Nathan, supporting him as much as he could as they made their way slowly across the final rocky scramble to the relative safety of the peak they’d been heading for before Nathan slipped.

When the jagged rocks levelled off and the path widened, it was only another ten minutes or so before the cairn marking the summit loomed out of the blizzard in front of them.

Nathan collapsed gratefully into the small amount of shelter it offered, shielding them from the worst of the driving flakes of snow.

Ben crouched beside him.

“It’s a good three-hour walk down from here, even at a normal pace,” he said. “Do you think you can do it with your ankle?”

“I can try,” Nathan replied. Because what were their other options? He was still feeling dizzy and a little nauseous, but he wasn’t going to sit up here and risk freezing to death. Owen’s face swam into his mind, and Nathan’s heart surged with terror at the thought of not making it back to him.

But as soon as Nathan stood again, he stumbled, his ankle giving out. The pain seemed more intense now the initial surge of adrenaline had subsided.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

Ben nodded, his face grim.

“Okay. We’ll stay put. We’d risk getting lost in this anyway, I think. Navigating in the snow is next to impossible. Let’s get into our survival bags to stay warm. We may be here for a while.”

They got out the bright orange plastic survival bags and their sleeping bags, and wriggled into them after brushing as much snow off their clothes as possible but keeping all their layers on. They lay beside each other, like two giant cocoons. Once they were settled, they got their phones out to see whether either of them had a signal. They were up high, so there was a chance they might.

“Nothing on mine,” Ben said. “How about you?”

“No. Nothing here either.”

“Bollocks.”

“Ben, what are we going to do?” Nathan heard the panic in his voice, though he’d tried to suppress it. He suddenly felt very young. When they were kids, Ben had always been the older brother who knew what to do, how to get them out of trouble. Nathan needed that reassurance now. Ben was an experienced mountaineer. He must have a plan.

“We stay put, we stay warm, and we wait,” Ben replied decisively. “We left our details at the hostel. They know the route we were taking, and they’ll know we’re in trouble when we don’t turn up tonight. And I promised Charlotte I’d check in early evening. Someone will raise the alarm. Mountain rescue will find us, but it might take them a while in these conditions. But we’ll be fine. We’ve got the kit, and we’ve got some food and water left. It’s going to be okay.”

Nathan tried to believe him, but fear still held his heart in a cold grip.

“Let me have a look at your head,” Ben said.

Nathan wriggled closer and turned so that Ben could have a look at his head injury. Ben pulled up the back of Nathan’s hat and probed with gentle fingers. Nathan tried not to wince, but it hurt.

“You’ve got a massive lump. How are you feeling?”

“A bit dizzy and sick,” Nathan replied honestly. “But I know where I am and what’s going on.”

“Good. Tell me if anything changes. Now let’s get some food in us.”

Ben made Nathan eat, even though Nathan’s stomach was rebelling. He forced down an energy bar and some dried fruit with a little water. The snow had slowed a little now, and by the time they’d finished eating, it had all but stopped.

“I hope that’s all of it,” Ben said.

The sky was darkening as twilight approached, and it was getting colder, even though the wind had dropped.

They pulled their sleeping bag hoods tight and settled down, facing each other.

“If you want to try and sleep, I’ll set an alarm to check on you,” Ben said. “I don’t want you to sleep for long with that bump on your head, though.”

“I’m not tired.” Nathan was too cold to sleep. He was already shivering, despite the layers and the survival bag. Whether from the cold or the shock of his injury, he wasn’t sure.

“Let’s talk, then. Staying awake is probably better anyway. Then we’ll hear anyone calling for us.”

Nathan knew the real risk of sleep was slipping into hypothermia and never waking up.

“Okay,” he said. “So tell me what’s going on with you. Is your boss still being a pain in the arse?”

They talked about all sorts of things as the last of the daylight faded and the darkness surrounded them. Hours passed as they talked about their jobs, their ambitions, their parents, the family holidays they’d gone on as kids. Nathan avoided mentioning Owen, although Owen was at the back of his mind constantly. Then Ben let it slip that he and Charlotte were trying for a baby.

“We’ve only been trying for a couple of months,” he said, “but she’s getting really impatient already.”

“That’s great, though. You’ll be a brilliant dad, and I can’t wait to be an uncle.” Nathan’s teeth chattered as he spoke.

“Do you think you and Owen will want kids one day?” Ben asked.

The words hit Nathan like a punch in the gut, reminding him exactly how fucked up things were with Owen right now. He wished he hadn’t left things the way he had. What if he died up here and that was Owen’s last memory of him, walking away without even kissing him goodbye? He pushed away the morbid thought, trying to quell the rising fear that was threatening to swamp him. Keep talking, he thought. Focus on that. What did Ben just ask me? Children. That was it.

“I don’t know.” Owen shivered again, the cold deep in his bones now. His ankle was sore, and the pain in his head was even more distracting, a dull ache that throbbed with the beat of his heart.

“You could, though. I mean, there’s lots of ways gay couples can have kids now, aren’t there?” Ben persisted. “You and Owen would be great dads too, if you wanted that.”

There was a long pause while Nathan tried to think how to reply. His head felt fuzzy. Trying to sort out his thoughts was like wading through treacle.

“Nathan? Don’t go to sleep on me.”

“I’m not. It’s just…. Sorry. Things with Owen are difficult at the moment. The way it is right now, I don’t even know if there’s still going to be a wedding, never mind kids.” Nathan’s heart felt like a lump of ice as he said the words out loud, all his fears finally laid out and exposed.

“What? Why didn’t you say something before?”

Nathan shook his head even though he knew Ben wouldn’t see it. It was completely dark now. The moon was behind a bank of clouds, and the few stars that showed didn’t give enough light to be useful.

“Saying it would make it real.” The prickle of tears stung his eyes. “We had this stupid row before I left. He said some stuff when he was angry, and maybe it wasn’t true. But I’m not sure he actually wants to marry me.”

“But you guys are good together. I know I don’t see you that often, but anyone can see it. It’s obvious.”

“Yeah. I always thought so, but now I’m not sure. I don’t know what to think.”

“Have you spoken to him since you left?”

“No.” Guilt twisted Nathan’s gut. “I was angry. I wasn’t ready to talk. I left almost without saying goodbye, and I’ve been avoiding talking to him ever since. But it doesn’t seem so important now. I just want to make things right. Even if he doesn’t want to get married, that’s okay with me. But I want to be with him. I love him, Ben. I really love him. Nothing’s going to change that. I’ll be with him however he wants…. Just need him to stay with me… wedding or no wedding. ”

“Nathan, how are you feeling?” Ben interrupted sharply, and Nathan realised he was rambling.

“Tired, cold, my head hurts. I’m afraid. I want to go home, Ben.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too.”

“What time is it now?”

There was a rustling sound as Ben extracted his arm so he could see his watch. “It’s nearly 11:00 p.m. Keep talking to me. Tell me more about how you and Owen met.” Ben shuffled closer.

“Well, we knew each other at uni a bit, but we weren’t mates or anything. Then, when I came back to Bristol, he propositioned me when he heard I was out.” Nathan chuckled, then carried on telling Ben the story of how they got together. Whenever he lost his thread or stumbled over a word, Ben would prompt him, asking him questions and keeping him talking.

But after a while Nathan got tired of talking.

“I wanna sleep now,” he grumbled, angry with Ben because he wouldn’t stop badgering him.

“No, you don’t.” Ben shook him. “Stay with me. Tell me about the wedding. Because you are going to marry him, Nathan. I know it. And you’re going to stay awake and tell me about it.”

So Nathan carried on talking, answering Ben’s endless bloody questions about the venue, the band they’d picked, the food, the flowers….

It felt like a lifetime later when they heard the sound of voices calling their names, but afterwards Nathan was told it was only a couple of hours.

“Oh, thank God. Here, we’re here!” Ben was up and yelling himself hoarse before Nathan had time to register what was going on. Ben got out a torch and waved it in an arc around him. “Here, up here! We need help.”

Left to his own devices, Nathan found himself slipping into the oblivion that Ben had been denying him for so long. He was dimly aware of voices getting closer, the crunch of feet through the snow. Then strangers talking to him, asking him his name, dragging him out of the sleep he craved so badly.

“Fuck off,” he mumbled.

Someone chuckled. “He’s still with us.”

He half listened, half drifted as Ben discussed him as though he wasn’t there, and other people talked in serious tones. There was the crackle of a radio and an electronic voice joining in the conversation. He heard words like “shock,” “head injury,” “hypothermia,” but none of it made any sense to him. They must be talking about someone else. He was fine. He didn’t even feel cold anymore. He just wanted them to take him home so he could see Owen. He tried to tell them this, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to say the words out loud. The last thing Nathan remembered as he finally succumbed to the utter exhaustion that overwhelmed him was the deafening sound of a helicopter in a flood of bright light.

Chapter Fifteen

Owen threw all his focus into driving as fast as he could get away with while staying safe and avoiding speed cameras. Luckily the roads were quiet, and the weather was mostly dry apart from the odd shower that never lasted long. Jan’s car was old and not very luxurious compared to the company car Owen had used, but it ate up the miles nonetheless. The adrenaline kept Owen awake as the minutes ticked past, turning into hours. Nothing was going to stop him getting to Nathan.

He had to stop for petrol at a service station up in the Lake District, and when he looked at the clock, he was surprised to see it was nearly three in the morning. He’d lost all track of time.

As he stood shivering on the forecourt, watching the litres racking up on the pump display, he found himself yawning and his vision blurred with exhaustion for a moment.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He didn’t want to stop. But he needed caffeine and maybe some sugar too. He still had four or five hours of driving ahead of him, and even in his desperation to get to Nathan, he could admit that it was better to get there safely than not at all.

As he drove around to the main services car park, his phone rang, but he didn’t get to it in time to answer. It chimed with a text alert as he pulled in to a parking space.

The message was from Charlotte and the words on the screen were the best things Owen had ever seen.

They found them. They’re OK.

Weak with relief, he checked his missed calls, and sure enough that was Charlotte’s number too. Owen hit Call as he got out of the car and walked into the brightly lit service station, blinking in the glare.

“Owen?” she said as soon as she picked up.

“Yes. How are they?”

“I spoke to Ben just now. They’re both in hospital, being treated for mild hypothermia. Nathan hurt his ankle and has a head injury, but Ben doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about. They’ve taken them to A & E in Fort William.”

“A head injury?” Fear turned Owen’s stomach. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t think it can be too serious. Ben said he was awake and talking right up till the helicopter came. And he’s being treated now. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Her reassuring tone did little to soothe Owen’s anxiety. He needed to see Nathan for himself, to hear his voice, to touch him.

“Okay. Thanks, Charlotte. I have to go. I want to get back on the road as soon as I can. Let me know if you hear anything else?”

“Of course. I’m about to leave myself. I’ll be there in a couple of hours, so I’ll see you there later.”

He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine.

Owen repeated the words to himself like a mantra as he waited for the barista to make his triple shot espresso.

Nathan had to be fine. Any other alternative was simply unacceptable. Nathan was going to be fine. Owen was going to make sure Nathan knew how much he loved him, and they were going to get married and live happily ever after. That was what was going to happen.

He topped up his coffee with cold water so he could drink it in a few gulps, then went to the shop on his way back out to grab a chocolate bar to give him a bit of a sugar boost.

In the shop he found himself staring blankly at the rows of sweets and chocolate. He was too stressed to make decisions. But then his eyes lit on the rows of pick-and-mix sweets and settled on a tub of jelly sweets shaped like rings.

He stared at them, an idea forming as he remembered Meg’s advice to him.

Propose again. Do it properly this time.

A smile crept over his face.

He grabbed a random bar of chocolate, then picked up one of the paper bags for the pick-and-mix and carefully selected two jelly rings. On his way to the checkout, he also grabbed a teddy holding a stuffed red heart that read “Be Mine,” and a bunch of slightly droopy-looking red roses that were reduced to clear. If he was going to do this, he was going all out.

When Owen finally pulled in to the hospital car park at half past seven in the morning, his night-time cocktail of adrenaline, caffeine, and sugar was wearing off. Almost dizzy with exhaustion, he found a parking space, got a ticket, and hurried into the main building with the roses clutched in one hand, the teddy in the other, and the rings burning a hole in his pocket. He followed the signs to A & E and went to the reception desk.

“How can I help you?”

The woman behind the desk gave him a polite smile. Her strong Scottish accent reminded Owen how far he’d travelled.

“Hi.” He was breathless from rushing. “Is Nathan Salter here?”

She tapped some keys on the computer and scanned the screen. “Oh yes, of course. He came in a few hours ago, with his brother.”

“Is he okay? Can I see him?”

“Sorry, but can I ask who you are? We normally only let family in.”

“I’m his partner,” Owen said decisively. He’d never used that word to describe Nathan before. He’s always used “boyfriend” in the past, but the word came out without thinking. “Soon-to-be husband,” he added. “We’re getting married in June.”

Her gaze took in the flowers and the teddy, and she smiled again, more warmly this time.

“Of course. Your sister-in-law told us you were on your way.”

“Is he okay?” Owen asked again urgently.

“I don’t know the details. Let me get one of the nurses to tell you more and take you to him.”

The nurse was a big bear of a Scot who tripped Owen’s gaydar immediately. As they walked down the disinfectant-scented corridor, he reassured Owen that Nathan was doing well.

“He was very cold when they brought him in a few hours ago, so he’s been treated for hypothermia, but his temperature is back up to normal now. He’s sprained his ankle, and had a bit of a bump to his head, but the docs don’t think it’s too serious. He’ll be going up for a CT scan later to double-check, but that’s just to be on the safe side. He’s a little dizzy and sore, but that’s normal. He’s been asking for you.” The nurse smiled. “He was worrying about you driving all that way. From South Wales, was it? You must be exhausted.”

“Yeah. It’s been a while since I completely missed a night of sleep.”

They entered a room lined with curtained cubicles.

“Here he is.” The nurse pushed the curtain aside. He lowered his voice. “He’s sleeping at the moment.”

Nathan’s large frame dwarfed the narrow hospital bed, but he still managed to look so vulnerable that Owen’s heart skipped a beat. Nathan’s head was bandaged, and his face was pale.

“You can wake him up if you like.” The nurse said. “We need to do that in half an hour anyway to check on him, so I’ll be back then.”

“Thanks.”

The nurse drew the curtains shut as he left.

Owen moved close and put the flowers and teddy down on the chair by the bed. He wanted to kiss Nathan but wasn’t sure whether he should let him sleep. One of Nathan’s hands lay on his chest, outside the covers, so Owen touched it gently, reassured to find it was warm.

“Owen?” A hushed voice came from behind him. “Is that you?”

“Yeah.” He turned and saw Charlotte peeking through the curtains.

“Hi.” She slipped through the gap and hugged him tight. “Glad you made it okay.”

“How’s Ben?” he asked.

“Fine, sleeping. They’re discharging him soon, so I can take him home… unless you want us to stay?”

“No. There’s no need.”

“Owen?” Nathan’s voice was hoarse but unmistakable. “You’re here.”

Owen turned. A warm rush of unadulterated joy and relief swept through him when he saw Nathan awake and smiling. He was vaguely aware of Charlotte moving back to her side of the curtain with a whispered “I’m going to go and find a coffee machine. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I sure am.” Owen’s voice was choked, throat tight with emotion. “What the bloody hell have you done to yourself?”

“Slipped in the snow. Come here.” Nathan raised his hand.

Owen sat on the edge of the bed and let Nathan pull him down, crushing their lips together in a kiss.

“Idiot,” Owen said, trying to joke. He was crying now. Nathan’s face was wet too, but Owen wasn’t sure if was from Owen’s tears or his own.

“I was afraid I was never going to get to see you again,” Nathan said when Owen pulled away a little to look at him again. He carried on in a hushed tone, “All I could think about was that I hadn’t kissed you goodbye.” He was definitely crying now, wiping the tears away with the hand that wasn’t clutching Owen’s tight. “God, it’s so good to see you. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye properly, and I don’t care if we get married or not, as long as we’re together.”

“About that.” Owen felt in his jacket pocket for the paper bag. “I’m so sorry about that stupid row. I’m sorry I hurt you. Just because I was nervous about getting married doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it. I should have said something before, but I didn’t know how. But I do. I want us to go ahead with the wedding. I’ve thought about nothing else all the time we’ve been apart and….”

He got off the bed and sank down on one knee on the hard floor of the hospital. He took Nathan’s hand again and held his surprised blue gaze as he spoke.

“This is how I should have done it the first time, but better late than never. Nathan Salter, I love you. I want you in my life forever if you think you can put up with me. So please, please, will you still marry me even though I’m a twat? I even got you a ring this time… hang on.” He released Nathan’s hand for a moment, needing both hands to get the jelly rings out of the bag and unstick them where they’d welded themselves together. “It’s the best I could manage at short notice.”

He held out his palm to Nathan with the two matching jelly rings on it and held his breath.

Nathan’s lips curved into a smile, and he shook his head. “Only you, Owen.”

“Is that a yes?” Owen demanded. His heart was pounding. He wondered if it was possible to die from impatience. At least he was in a hospital, so they could resuscitate him. “I brought you roses and a naff teddy bear too, if it helps my case at all?”

Nathan chuckled. “Yes. Of course it’s a yes.”

“Oh thank fuck for that! Gimme your hand, then. Sorry it’s a bit tight, but luckily they stretch.” He jammed one of the rings onto Nathan’s third finger and let Nathan put the other one on him.

“Now get up here,” Nathan said. “I want to kiss you some more.”

Owen scrambled up, and Nathan shifted over to make room for him. He wrapped his arms around Owen and kissed him, long and slow and sure. Owen kissed him right back, finally sure that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

The wedding date couldn’t come quickly enough.

Epilogue

“I need to pee again,” Owen muttered.

Simon frowned. “Really, Owen? You only went fifteen minutes ago.”

“Nervous bladder.”

“Okay, well hurry. It’s nearly show time. And don’t even think about doing a runner.”

“As if.”

In the toilets in the registry office, Owen decided he didn’t really need to pee after all. He just needed this to be over with. So instead, he washed his trembling hands in cold water and glared at his reflection.

“You want this,” he reminded himself. “You know you do. So stop being an idiot and breathe.”

When he came back out, his mum started fussing over him, straightening his already perfect hair and adjusting his tie. “Ben just called. They’re a couple of minutes away.”

As if on cue, an official approached them. “The guests are assembled and the celebrant is ready when you are. Is the other groom here yet?”

“Any minute now,” Simon replied.

“There.” Jan smiled, patting Owen’s lapel. “You look so handsome, love. Oh, God. I’m starting already. Thank goodness I wore waterproof mascara, is all I can say.” She rummaged in her handbag for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.

Owen put his hands on Jan’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek, and she pulled him into a fierce hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

“Stop it,” he chided gently, “or you’ll start me off too. Now go on in and find your seat.”

They’d agreed to walk down the aisle together. Nobody was giving anybody away, so Owen and his entourage—Simon, his sisters, and his niece—waited in the foyer for Nathan to arrive. Owen counted the time with each nervous thud of his heart. He was suddenly filled with the irrational fear that Nathan might not show or might have second thoughts.

It felt like forever before the doors opened and Nathan entered. The tight band around Owen’s chest loosened as Nathan smiled, his gaze focused on Owen as he crossed the foyer towards him. Ben was the only person accompanying Nathan; the rest of his family was already seated inside.

Owen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was it.

He felt almost shy as he greeted Nathan. Aware of their family and closest friends around them, they smiled at each other. Nathan took Owen’s hands and squeezed, while Owen lost himself in the blue of Nathan’s eyes.

“Are you ready?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

Owen’s nerves reached a crescendo as they walked through the rows of seats together with Ben and Simon behind and their bridesmaids bringing up the rear. People turned to look at them, but Owen gazed straight ahead, focused only on the feel of Nathan’s hand in his, their fingers linked together like their lives would be.

When they reached the celebrant at the front of the room, the low buzz of chatter died down. Owen and Nathan turned to face each other. Owen’s nerves receded and were replaced by a strange sense of calm and inevitability as the celebrant began to speak.

A life with Nathan stretched out in front of him, and all Owen had to do was say yes.

Till death do us part.

Nathan had written his vows in a single evening and been rather smug about it. Owen had spent a week writing and discarding different versions before he ended up with something he was happy with. Owen was only going to do this once and wanted it to be perfect.

Nathan went first. He unfolded the crisp white piece of paper with its neatly typed words. His voice was a little husky at first, but grew in strength as he spoke.

“Owen. When I first met you, you were always the centre of attention, charming people and flirting with everyone. I never imagined that you’d notice me. Then, when you asked me out….” Nathan glanced up from the page and grinned.

Owen flushed and gave him a sheepish smile. It hadn’t been so much asking out as propositioning, but it was probably wise of Nathan to gloss over that.

Nathan continued, turning serious again. “When you asked me out, I tried to turn you down because I’d misjudged you. I’m very happy you were persistent, and I’m glad you proved me wrong. Owen, I love you. I love you for your loyalty, your kindness, your humour, and your zest for life. I want to be with you forever.”

Nathan met Owen’s gaze, his expression intense and full of emotion. Owen blinked. His eyes were damp, and there was a lump in his throat the size of a tennis ball.

“Your turn,” Nathan said.

“Okay.” Owen’s voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “Bloody hell. I knew I should have gone first.” There was a ripple of gentle laughter from the people assembled.

Owen dug into his pocket for his final draft. It was scrawled on a dog-eared page torn from a notebook. Full of crossings out and additions, it would probably be illegible to anyone but him, but he nearly knew the words by heart now anyway.

“Nathan, I always fancied you at uni but didn’t think I was your type. Before I met you, I didn’t believe a long-term relationship was possible for me. You challenged my beliefs about myself and showed me I could be a better person, and I love you for that. Thank you for not giving up on me. I’m finally on the same page as you, and I’m ready for our future. I love you, Nathan Salter, and I want to grow old with you.” Owen’s voice cracked again, and a hot rush of tears filled his eyes. When he lifted his gaze from the page, Nathan’s eyes were wet too, but he was smiling as though Owen’s words were the best thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s time to exchange the rings,” the celebrant said.

Simon put the ring in Owen’s right palm, and Owen squeezed his fingers closed around it as Ben gave the other ring to Nathan.

“Owen, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment to you.” Nathan slid the ring onto the third finger of Owen’s left hand. The metal was cool against his skin but warmed quickly.

“Nathan, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment to you.” Owen took Nathan’s hand. The rose gold of the wedding band fitted exactly alongside the thinner, white gold engagement ring that Owen had bought for them when he got his new job at the start of May. It looked perfect.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may share your first kiss as a married couple.”

Owen’s heart swelled, and the smile that spread across his face was matched by Nathan’s. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed, sweet and mostly chaste, but it lasted long enough that as the clapping from the onlookers died down, Megan’s voice was clearly audible muttering “Get a room, for heaven’s sake.”

Owen broke away, laughing, and winked at her. She grinned back innocently.

“You look dead sexy in that suit,” Owen murmured into Nathan’s ear as they drifted around the dance floor in a blissful, romantic daze.

Loved-up, with his husband in his arms and the perfect amount of champagne in his belly, Nathan was in heaven. “So do you.” Nathan let his hand, resting in the small of Owen’s back, slip fractionally lower so that his fingertips grazed the first swell of Owen’s arse.

In matching charcoal pinstripes, they’d both looked pretty damn good a few hours ago as they stood in front of their families and friends and exchanged rings. Nathan hadn’t been able to look away from Owen. His slim figure in the perfectly cut suit, his newly trimmed brown hair where it fell over his forehead, the intensity of his stare, and the love that shone in his eyes as he gazed at Nathan.

Owen pulled him closer now, and his lips brushed Nathan’s neck as he whispered, “I can’t wait to get you upstairs and fuck you stupid.”

Nathan let out a snort of laughter. “And there I was, expecting something romantic like ‘I love you.’”

“I do love you. But I also want to rip that suit off you and do really dirty things to you in our honeymoon suite. Is it too early to leave?”

A warm curl of arousal heated Nathan on the inside, but he fought against it. The cut of his suit wouldn’t hide much if he got too excited. “I thought you always reckoned married sex was boring,” he teased. “And yes, it’s too early to leave. Now behave.”

He put a little distance between them, and they danced for a while longer.

The floor was full of couples now. Ben grinned at Nathan as he passed with Charlotte in his arms. Nearer the stage where the band was playing, Nathan caught sight of Ali and Megan and smiled at the way they swayed together, their arms wrapped around each other. It had worked out well with Ali staying at Jan’s. Away from her dad, Ali had blossomed. She and Megan were as close as ever, and if Ali got into Cardiff uni in the autumn, she’d be less than an hour away.

“How about a quickie in the toilet?” Owen asked, dragging Nathan’s attention promptly back. Owen lowered his voice, breath hot on Nathan’s ear as he murmured, “I wanna suck you off. Being married is making me so horny. Come on. I want my husband’s dick in my mouth.”

Damn Owen and his dirty talk. Owen knew Nathan was a total sucker for it.

“What if we get caught? It’s not like in a nightclub. I mean… my dad could walk in, for fuck’s sake.”

“It’s proper posh toilets here, not rickety cubicles. The stalls here go right down to the floor and up to the ceiling. I checked earlier when I was in there having a piss. Nobody will ever know.”

“I can’t believe you’ve already checked out the hotel toilets with a view to blowing me in them. Jesus.”

“I know, right?” Owen grinned, obviously sensing victory. “You know you married me for a reason.” He took Nathan’s hand and pulled. “Now stop arguing about it, get in there, and let me suck you off.”

Somehow they managed to make it out of the main reception room and into the hallway where the toilets were without being waylaid by well-wishers.

“I’m still not sure about this,” Nathan tried as Owen pushed open the door of the men’s toilet. “We could nip up to our room for a quickie instead.”

“Nah. Once I get you up there, you’re not leaving. This’ll do fine.”

The door closed behind them. A row of sinks and mirrors faced the urinal. Three doors stood ajar at the far end, so Nathan and Owen clearly had the place to themselves for now at least. Owen led him to the door on the right and closed and locked the heavy wooden door behind them.

All Nathan’s protests evaporated in a haze of lust as Owen pushed Nathan up against the back of the door and kissed him fast and dirty. Why hadn’t he thought this was a good idea? With Owen’s hips tight against his and them both hard through the fabric of their trousers, it seemed like the best idea ever. And when Owen dropped to his knees and started to unfasten Nathan’s fly, Nathan let his head fall back against the door with a thud, giving himself up to whatever Owen wanted to do to him.

Owen got Nathan’s cock out and wrapped a hand around it. Nathan tensed, waiting for the sensation of Owen’s lips and tongue.

“Look at me,” Owen said.

Nathan met his gaze. Owen’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown.

“That’s better.” He stroked Nathan’s cock slowly.

Nathan looked down at Owen’s hand and saw the two rings on his third finger. The sight of the wedding ring gave him a thrill as he remembered what it stood for. “It isn’t going to take long if you make me watch,” Nathan admitted. His balls were already drawing up, just from the teasing stroke of Owen’s hand.

“Good, because then nobody will have time to miss us.”

Owen grinned, then parted his lips around the head of Nathan’s cock and sucked him down in one long, hot slide.

“Do I look respectable?” Nathan asked after he’d put himself away and zipped back up.

“A little flushed, but you can blame it on the dancing.”

Owen leaned up to kiss him, and Nathan tasted himself on Owen’s tongue.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to return the favour?”

“No. I’ll wait till I can fuck you later.” Owen reached for the latch on the door.

“What if someone’s out there?” Nathan hissed, suddenly anxious again about being caught now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“I’ll go out first and see. If there is, I’ll shut it behind me and you can wait a few minutes.” Owen pushed the door open and peered out. He stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed, beckoning Nathan to follow him out. “It’s okay. It’s only Simon.”

“Only Simon. What’s that supposed to mean?” Simon turned, drying his hands on a paper towel, and leaned back against the sinks. He folded his arms and shook his head in mock disapproval. “You bad boys. I hope you didn’t get spunk on those suits.”

“Nope.” Owen licked his lips. “I think I got it all.”

“Married sex not too boring for you, then?” Simon smirked. “That’s good to see.”

“I think I can learn to live with it.” Owen took Nathan’s hand and laced their fingers together.

“Look at my boy, all grown up,” Simon said fondly. “Just this time last year, I remember you telling me you didn’t think you were the marrying kind.”

Nathan chuckled, remembering that conversation.

Owen glanced sidelong at Nathan, and their gazes locked. Warmth bloomed between them as they smiled at each other, and Nathan imagined their future laid out waiting for them.

“I guess I was wrong.”

About the Author

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England, with her husband, two children, and two cats. Jay comes from a family of writers, but she always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed her by. She spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content.

One day, she decided to try and write a short story—just to see if she could—and found it rather addictive. She hasn’t stopped writing since.

www.jaynorthcote.com

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Email: jaynorthcote@gmail.com

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

About the Author