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“Why not, James? She’s beautiful and she’s easy, what more do you want?” Jeremy barked at him, completely unaware that some people may have differing opinions.
“Good for her,” James replied, “I’m just not interested.”
“Honestly, James, you’re going to die alone.”
“Why are you so bothered about my love life, Jeremy? Is yours that dull? I don’t see you bothering Richard.”
“Mate, don't bring me into this,” Richard said, putting his pint down.
“Exactly, this is about you.” Jeremy gestured wildly with each sentence. “Why aren’t you interested? Is there someone else?”
James hesitated, looking to and from each of his friends. “No,” he said finally.
“There is, isn’t there? When were you going to tell us about this?” Richard butted in.
“I’m not dating anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking,” James informed them.
Jeremy’s phone beeped. He read his text message and downed the last of his pint. “I have to go. Get him a date by the end of the night,” he instructed Richard. “See you twats Monday.”
Once Jeremy was gone, Richard continued the interrogation. “So tell me, who is the unfortunate soul?” Richard took a long swig of his drink.
“I’d rather not say,” James replied.
“Come on, mate, you can trust me.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Richard. I’m just still trying to work out how I feel.” James fiddled with his half-empty glass.
“Just ask them out. Sleep with them, that will answer the question for you.”
“Some of us actually want to keep our friends,” James said sarcastically. “Look, it’s new. When I figure myself out, I’ll tell you, okay?”
“Fine.” Richard slapped his hand onto James’ shoulder and downed the last of his beer. “Another?”
“Please.”
Several hours and several pints later, Richard brought it up again.
“Look, if I help you figure out your feelings, will you stop looking like a lost puppy?”
“I can try,” James replied.
“First question: do you enjoy being with them? Do they make you happy?”
James looked at his friend, “yes they do.”
“Okay. Do you miss them when they’re not here?”
James nodded. “Yes, sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” Richard raised an eyebrow at him.
“I try not to think about it too much,” James confessed.
“And last question: how do you picture the future with verses without them?” Richard fiddled with his pint glass.
“Well, with them would probably be something you would call ‘painfully domestic’.” James sighed. “But without them-“ he trailed off.
Richard finished his drink. “You should go for it. I wish you the best.” He got up and moved towards the door, only stopping when James caught his wrist.
“Where are you going?” James looked up at him.
“I have to go.” Richard didn’t look at him.
“What’s the matter?”
“I just have to go.” Richard tugged away from James’ grasp and stormed out, leaving James alone with the last of his beer.
James thought of Richard, he thought of the things he said. He thought of acting on the feelings he has, and he thought of how Richard left him shortly before. He thought of his friend and how he might be feeling.
After another drink, James decided to pay his friend a visit.
“Richard!” James yelled, banging on his front door. “Richard! It’s James! Let me in.”
The door flung open revealing a grumpy Richard. James tried not to notice that he was only wearing a pair of pyjama shorts.
He pushed into Richard’s house, not waiting for an invitation.
“What was that all about?” James snapped.
“What? I’m not the one who barged into someone else’s house in the middle of the night!” Richard snapped back.
James steadied himself against the wall. “Have I pissed you off? Why’d you storm off? You tell me to talk about my feelings, but you fucking don’t,” James spat. “Hypocrite.”
“What do you care for?” Richard pushed past James and walked into the living room. “Got that date yet?” He fiddled with the corner of a blanket laid on the back of the sofa.
James stood dumbfounded in the doorway. “Do you really think I don’t care?”
Richard didn’t reply.
“Do you really want to know about it?” James asked.
“No, James.” Richard turned to look at him. “I don’t want to think about you getting off with someone.”
“Then what is your fucking problem?” James moved forward, squaring up against the shorter man.
Richard’s face was red and his eyes looked damp. “Nothing,” he whispered, moving away. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Rich-“ James reached out to him, suddenly much calmer. “Rich,” He took in a deep breath, “it matters. You matter. You don’t know how much I care, Richard. I care so fucking m-“
He was cut off by Richard forcefully pressing his lips against James’. Richard’s lips were soft, but needy and tasted of a mix of beer and toothpaste.
James pulled back, breathless, still gripping onto Richard’s sides.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Richard took a few steps back.
“Richard-“
“You should go,” he said, looking away.
“Richard,” James repeated.
“Please leave.”
“Richard!” James snapped. “It was you, Rich,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “You’re the friend I don’t want to lose. You make me happy. I miss you,” he said, emphasising the word ‘you’ in each sentence. “Richard?” James could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “I couldn’t say, because I didn’t think you felt the same way. But-“ once again he was cut off by a kiss.
The tear escaping James’ eye joined the ones on Richard’s cheek.
This kiss was less forceful but still needy. It felt like being welcomed home after a long trip. It was passionate and explorative and-
“Incredible,” James breathed, pressing their foreheads together. “Now it’s your turn to explain.”
“I couldn’t bare of thinking of you with someone else.” Richard’s cheeks were still wet, and he couldn’t quite gather the courage to look James in the eye, but he still held him close. “I don’t know when, or how, but, James, I need you-“ This time it was James’ turn to cut him off with a kiss.
Or two.
Or three.