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Alex lay on his stomach and watched as Miles’s clever fingers danced over the strings of the guitar. Miles sat cross-legged at the foot of Alex’s bed, wearing a black turtleneck sweater and that little smile he always had whenever he was playing a tune he really liked. This particular tune was new. They’d been working on it all evening, and the alarm clock beside the bed told Alex that it was very nearly midnight, but Miles was showing no signs of fatigue. His shaggy mop of hair hung over his eyes as he played and his expression was one of quiet contentment.
“Do that bit again,” Alex said. “I liked that bit.”
“What, this bit?” Miles moved his fingers in a complicated pattern and the same notes rang out again. “I knew you’d like that,” he said.
Alex smiled. Miles always seemed to know the things he liked. “Go on,” he said. “Keep playing.”
Miles grinned at him and obliged. Alex watched his fingers move. Miles had long graceful fingers that were perfect for playing the guitar. He had quite nice hands in general, actually, or at least Alex had always thought so. He had slender wrists, the kind that made you wonder whether you could wrap your thumb and your pinkie round them and still get your fingertips to touch. It was the sort of thing that Alex wondered sometimes, anyway.
Alex rested his chin on his hand and let his gaze wander up Miles’s arms, from his wrists to his elbows, and then from his shoulders to his neck. It was a familiar pathway. The black sweater that Miles was wearing was contoured to his frame, emphasising his natural slimness and accentuating his shape. Alex lifted his eyes a little higher, and for a few seconds he gave in to the simple pleasure of watching Miles’s face while he played.
He couldn’t permit himself to watch for much longer than that. If he did, he was liable to find himself staring. Lately, he couldn’t seem to help it. There was something about the way that Miles looked while he played the guitar that was endlessly fascinating. It was in the way his eyes glinted, and in the cheekiness of his grin. Alex had never really thought about it before now, but during the last month he’d started to wonder if he was perhaps looking at Miles a little bit too much, and in a different sort of way. He wasn’t sure what was different about it, exactly, but he did have a vague sense that it wasn’t the way that best friends usually looked at each other.
He brushed the thought swiftly aside and turned his eyes back to the guitar. There was no point in making a big deal out of it. He was fond of Miles, that was all. It was only natural, considering how much time they’d been spending together. They’d been together almost every day since the release of their new record, and in a few days’ time they’d be heading to Glastonbury to play their first festival together as The Last Shadow Puppets. Alex couldn’t wait. He felt far less nervous about it than he’d felt before last year’s gig with the Monkeys, and it wasn’t just because they’d be playing a smaller stage. It was because Miles was going to be up there with him, playing and singing alongside him, and giving him a place to hide if Alex ever felt like he needed it. He already knew that he wouldn’t. Being on stage with Miles made him feel brave, somehow; braver than he felt on an average day.
He snuck another peek at Miles’s face. It was a good face. He liked Miles’s soft features, the roundness of his eyes and the tilt of his smile. His smile was perhaps Alex’s favourite aspect, or else it was his laugh; loud, raucous and catching just like Miles himself. People were forever being caught up by Miles; they were drawn to him, to his energy, to his friendliness. Alex had watched him at countless social gatherings, pulling people in like a magnet. Everywhere they went, Miles ended up being the centre of attention sooner or later, and yet Alex had never felt left out by it. No matter how many people landed in his orbit, Miles seemed to have a special gift for making Alex feel as though he himself was the most important person in the room.
Miles glanced up at that moment and caught him looking. “That’s a serious face,” he said. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
Alex blushed. He turned over on to his back so that Miles wouldn’t notice. “I were just thinkin’ about our gig on the weekend.”
“Me too. It’s gonna be mega.” Miles stopped playing. “You’re not worried about it, are yeh?”
“No, not at all. Just… feeling a bit reflective, I s’pose.”
“Anything you wanna talk about?”
Alex shook his head. “M’just in one of me moods. It’ll pass.”
Miles gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and began to play again. Alex recognised the familiar notes of The Meeting Place, only right now Miles was improvising with them, making them dance in different directions, turning them into an instrumental solo. It was soothing. Alex yawned, laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes. As he did so, he heard Miles’s fingers slow on the strings.
“If you’re tired, we can go to bed,” Miles said.
“Nah, m’fine. Go on, keep playing. I’m still listening.”
Alex heard a chuckle and then he felt Miles’s long clever fingers ruffling his hair. “You always say that,” Miles said. “And then you always go and fall asleep on me.”
“M’not sleepy,” Alex insisted.
“We’ll see.”
Miles took back his fingers, leaving behind a warm tingle on Alex’s scalp. The guitar strings began to hum once again, a little more softly than before. Alex relaxed and let himself float with the music, the tension in his body slowly dissolving into the mattress beneath him. This seemed to be another of Miles’s special gifts. He had the power to make Alex feel completely at ease with himself with just a word, or a touch, or a song. Alex wasn’t sure why that was, but he didn’t question it much; all he knew was that everything seemed much simpler whenever Miles was around. The world seemed to make a lot more sense when it was the two of them together.
A sudden knock from downstairs broke him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes, sat up, and looked at Miles. “Was that someone at the door?”
Miles shrugged. He stopped playing and they listened. The knock came again, three sharp taps.
Alex frowned. “Who could that be at this time?”
“I dunno. Maybe a pizza delivery guy got the wrong address?” Miles unhitched the guitar from his neck. “I can answer it if yeh want.”
“Nah, it’s fine, I’ll go.” Alex pushed himself reluctantly off the bed, hitched up his jeans and plodded out of the room. He bumped his way down the stairs, flicked on the light at the bottom and meandered up the narrow hallway. As he reached the front door, the knock came again, tap, tap, tap, and then he heard muffled laughter from the other side. He stopped, suddenly cautious. Who was out there? He hoped it wasn’t prank callers or some overenthusiastic fans who’d tracked him down. He was too sapped of energy to cope with that sort of thing right now.
He heard a creak on the stairs and turned around. Miles was stood there, watching him.
“Everything alright?”
Alex nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
“You gonna open it then?”
Alex gave himself a mental shake. He was feeling paranoid because he was tired, that was all. He reached for the latch, but then he jumped as there was another sharp tap at the door. He cursed under his breath. He was starting to feel like he was trapped in a poem by Edgar Allan Poe.
Miles appeared at his elbow as if by magic. “Let me answer it,” he said. He pushed Alex out of the way, reached for the latch himself and pulled the door open.
A rush of air blew in from outside. Miles fell back against the wall as though he’d been pushed. Alex grabbed him by the arm. “Miles, what–?”
“Well, if it ain’t the kids,” said a very familiar voice from the doorway.
Alex looked up, and his heart stopped.
“Are yeh gonna invite us in then?”
Alex just stared. The man at the door looked like Miles. He had Miles’s face, Miles’s voice, Miles’s posture. He had close cropped hair instead of an untidy mop, and stubble instead of smooth skin, but that was where the dissimilarity ended. Alex knew the face of his best friend when he saw it, and this was surely no trick of the light.
“Who–?” he started to say, and then he nearly choked on his own tongue as the man moved aside and a second man appeared from behind him. Alex backed up hard, retreating down the hall and dragging a speechless Miles backwards with him. The second man stepped over the threshold and into the house.
“Hi Alex,” he said. “Long time no see.”
The man was the spitting image of Alex himself. His voice was deeper and he wore his hair differently, swept back from his face rather than curled over his forehead, but otherwise Alex might have been looking in a mirror. The resemblance was uncanny. Alex felt Miles grab him round the waist, and before he knew it they were clinging to each other and retreating even further down the hall, and the two men had come inside and shut the front door behind them.
“Don’t freak out,” the man who looked like Miles said. “We come in peace, an’ all that.”
Miles made a choking sound. “Fuck, you guys are aliens?”
“What? No, we’re not– Christ.” He turned to his friend. “Al, you talk to ‘em.”
The man who looked like Alex stepped closer. “We’re you, but eight years from now,” he said. “We’re your future selves.”
Alex stared at them, his eyes flicking from one to the other. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Why should we believe you? Like Miles said, maybe you’re aliens. Maybe you’ve come to abduct us and take our place.”
The other Alex looked faintly amused. He took another step nearer. “Recognise this?” he said. He looped a finger through the gold chain that hung around his neck. Alex squinted at it, and took a sharp breath. Even from a distance, he could tell it was identical to the one which he himself was wearing. The chain had been a gift from his grandad on his eighteenth birthday. He never took it off. He would have recognised it anywhere.
He gave the other Alex a long searching look. “That don’t necessarily prove nothing,” he said, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice. It was hard to discount the evidence of his own eyes. He glanced at Miles and saw that he seemed to be coming to the same conclusion.
Miles cautiously disentangled himself from Alex, but he stayed close to Alex’s side. “Say we do believe you,” he said. “What are you doing here? Did you come to… to warn us that something awful’s gonna happen?”
The other Miles chuckled. “Nah,” he said. “Nuffin like that. We were just in the neighbourhood, weren’t we, Al? And since we were here, we figured we might as well pay yous two a visit.” He gave them both a wide smile. “Don’t s’pose you’ve got any cold beers, little Alex?”
Alex blinked at him. “Um…”
The other Alex grinned. “Yeah, he keeps ‘em on the top shelf next to the cheese if I remember rightly.” He winked at Alex. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Alex opened his mouth, but his words had given up on him. He gave a helpless shrug.
“Good lad,” the other Miles said. He turned back down the hall and went into the kitchen, and Alex heard him riffling about in the fridge.
“Get one for me too, would ya?” the other Alex called after him. He shrugged off his leather jacket and hung it on a coat hook near the door. Underneath, he was wearing an electric blue shirt and Alex couldn’t help but notice how well-built he was. The man had muscles in places that Alex wasn’t even sure existed on his own skinny frame.
Miles was staring at the other Alex too. Alex gave him a nudge and their eyes met. There was a quick wordless exchange and then Miles just shrugged, as if to say, let’s just go with it and see what happens. It was hardly Alex’s preferred choice of plan, but it seemed to be too late to argue. His other self was making himself at home; he’d kicked off his shoes and was already padding barefoot into the living room.
“Got any board games, Alex?” he called. “Oh wait, I remember – don’t worry, found ‘em!”
Alex shot Miles a look, and then he followed his other self into the living room. The other Alex had taken a seat on the sofa and was engrossed in setting out the cards and counters for a game of Articulate. He retrieved the sand timer from the box and set it upright in the middle of the board.
“Haven’t played this one in ages,” he said. “Doesn’t work very well wi’ only two people. You two’ll play it wi’ us, won’t you?”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “You’ve come here all the way from the future to visit your past selves… and all you wanna do is hang out and play board games?”
The other Alex shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”
Miles pushed past and seated himself on the opposite sofa. He fixed his gaze on Alex’s other self from across the coffee table. “I can cope with that,” he said. He beckoned for Alex to come and sit next to him.
Alex puffed out his cheeks. “Fine, then. If everyone else but me thinks that this is a perfectly normal thing to do…” He flumped down on the sofa beside Miles and watched as his other self shuffled the cards. Miles gave him a comforting squeeze on the arm.
Miles’s other self strode back into the room and set two beers down on the table. “Sorry, kids,” he said. “There were only two left. I can go down the offie in a bit if yous want?”
Alex shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”
The other Miles plonked himself down next to the other Alex. He opened one of the cans and drained a third of it in two swallows. “What are we playin’ then?”
“It’s a word game,” the other Alex said. “There are cards with objects or actions or random concepts on them, and you have to describe them to the other person on your team, and then they have to guess what the words are.”
“Sounds like your type of game.”
The other Alex grinned. He put his mouth to his friend’s ear and whispered something inaudible. The other Miles laughed in response. He wrapped an arm around the other Alex’s shoulders and pulled him flush to his side. Alex watched him curl his fingers into the long strands of the other Alex’s hair.
Huh. They were pretty cosy with each other.
Not that Alex ought to have been surprised by that, since he knew himself to be fairly cosy with Miles too, or at least more so than he was with his other friends. It wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to. He’d never really set much importance on how their relationship might look from the outside. Perhaps, it looked like this.
Then again, perhaps not. The other Alex was practically sitting in the other Miles’s lap. If Alex hadn’t known better, he would have guessed something entirely different about the relationship between their future selves.
Alex glanced over at Miles to see whether he was noticing the same thing, but Miles wasn’t paying him any attention. His gaze was fixed on the two men sitting on the other side of the table. Alex’s future self whispered something else in his friend’s ear and made the other Miles laugh once again, and then his hand crept on to the other Miles’s thigh and gave it a firm squeeze.
Alex blinked. Their future selves were very cosy with each other.
“We’ll go first, shall we?” the other Alex said. He picked up a handful of cards, gave them to the other Miles, and lifted his eyebrows in expectation.
Alex forced himself to refocus. “Um… yeah. Knock yourselves out.”
His other self grinned and turned over the sand timer. The yellow sand began to pool through the narrow channel, collecting in a heap at the bottom.
The other Miles flipped over the first card. “Okay, these look like object words,” he said. “This one’s easy – it’s something that you play.”
“Guitar,” the other Alex said at once.
“Bingo.” The other Miles laid down the card and picked up another. “Erm… okay… it’s something that spins round–”
“A windmill? The earth?”
“No, it’s something you have to spin yourself.”
“Is it a lasso? Or a wheel?”
“No… erm… it makes repeating patterns on paper when you spin it.”
“Ohhh, a Spirograph!”
The other Miles grinned. “Yeah, you got it. Next one… it’s something hot.”
“Is it the sun?”
“No, not as hot as that. Erm… shit, this is a hard one…”
“Oh, is it–” The other Alex broke off to whisper something in his friend’s ear.
The other Miles laughed. “No it bloody isn’t, get your mind out of the gutter.”
The other Alex grinned at him. “Worth a try,” he said. He gave his friend’s thigh another squeeze and then just left his hand resting there, as though he’d forgotten about it. The other Miles tugged him close again and brushed his fingers nonchalantly over the back of the other Alex’s neck.
Alex couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. What was going on here? Their future selves couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other, and every other sentence spoken between them was being murmured into an ear. He shot Miles a quick sideways glance and this time managed to catch his eye. He raised his eyebrows in a gesture of confusion. Miles mirrored the gesture with a little shrug. So, he’d noticed it too then. Alex wasn’t just going crazy. His head spun with silent questions. Just what exactly was the nature of the relationship between their future selves? And more to the point, why the hell were they here playing Articulate in his bloody living room?
“Alex? It’s your turn?”
Alex blinked. He hadn’t even heard the rest of the guesses, his mind too busy with his other thoughts. He took the small pile of cards that his other self was offering to him.
“Sorry,” he said. He passed the cards to Miles. “You describe, I’ll guess.”
Miles turned over the first card and frowned at it. “So, it’s an action word,” he said. “It’s something you do with your hands.”
Alex cursed silently. He could only think of one answer at that particular moment and it was staring him right in the face. His older self’s hand was still resting on the other Miles’s thigh, and out of the corner of his eye Alex swore he could see that same hand inching upwards by increments, closer and closer to the other Miles’s crotch.
“Come on, Al,” Miles said. “You’re normally good at this.”
It was true, Alex was normally decent at word games, but right now his mind was blank. “Erm… can I pass on this one?”
“Yeah, if you want.” Miles put down the card and flipped over another. “Okay, another action word. So this one’s something you do with your mouth.”
Alex felt a hot blush creep up the back of his neck. Christ, it was like these cards had it in for him. He glanced up at Miles, and frowned. Was it his imagination, or was Miles blushing too?
“Can you give us another clue?” Alex said.
“Yeah, it’s like when you make noise and it’s loud.”
“Oh. It’s shouting?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Miles gave him a small smile, but Alex was sure his cheeks looked pinker than usual. Miles turned over a third card and then promptly dropped it on the floor.
“Time’s up,” the other Miles said. “You kids are gonna have to do a lot better if yeh wanna beat us at this.”
“Yeah,” Alex muttered. “We know.”
Alex’s other self grinned at him, picked up a new set of cards, and the game began again.
It didn’t take long for their future selves to establish a clear winning streak. Alex and Miles lost round after round. Alex blamed himself at first – he just couldn’t concentrate – but he soon realised that Miles was equally off his game. Alex could tell how distracted he was by the way his sentences filled up with uncharacteristic pauses, and in the way he stuttered over his words. Miles couldn’t seem to stop staring at the other Alex. Perhaps he was starting to believe that Alex’s older self really was an alien from outer space after all. Alex wouldn’t have blamed him for thinking so; he was half starting to think the same thing himself – there was a wilful eccentricity to the other Alex’s mannerisms which seemed incongruent with Alex’s own personality. As for the other Miles, Alex found that he didn’t quite dare to look him in the face, or at least not for longer than a few seconds at a time. The man had a penetrating gaze and for whatever reason his smile made Alex blush every time he found it aimed in his direction.
Meanwhile, the touchy-feely flirting between their future selves showed no signs of letting up, and soon Alex found that he couldn’t make eye contact with his Miles either. He was overly conscious of the fact that he and Miles were sitting shoulder to shoulder, brushed up against one another, in a way that he’d never been conscious of it before. There seemed to be some strange atmosphere between the two of them. He could feel the warmth of Miles’s body through the thin cotton of his sweater and it was giving him prickles all over his skin. He swore he could feel the heat of Miles’s blush on the side of his own cheek.
It was all because of their future selves. It was the sight of them with their hands all over each other. It was the fact that Alex knew Miles was bound to be thinking the exact same things that he himself was thinking.
Are they really together? Is that going to happen to us? Do we want that to happen?
Alex swallowed and tried to focus on the game.
The other Alex had just picked up yet another set of cards. He shuffled them in his hands.
"Ready?" he said. The other Miles nodded and flipped over the sand timer. The other Alex looked at the first card, and smirked. "So it's an action word... s'probably gonna be easier for me to demonstrate this one than explain." He leaned closer to his friend and then gently blew in his ear.
Beside him, Alex heard Miles take a sharp breath.
"Would the answer be 'blowing' by any chance," the other Miles said.
"You got it." Alex's other self turned over the next card, and chuckled. "See if you can get this one the same way."
He moved a hand to the other Miles's knee and began running his fingers up and down his friend's leg in a way that didn’t look entirely innocent.
"Well?" he said.
The other Miles just grinned at him. "Hmm, I dunno. It's a hard one. Let me think."
Alex gaped at his other self. He was starting to wish that the floor would just open up and swallow him. He sought for somewhere else to direct his gaze and dared a quick peek at Miles, but Miles's eyes were riveted on their other selves, and the movement of the other Alex's hand.
Alex glared suspiciously at the box of playing cards, as if they were somehow to blame for all of this nonsense. Maybe this copy of the game was jinxed.
The other Alex was still smoothing his fingers up and down. "Are you gonna make a guess or what?"
The other Miles's grin widened. "Nah."
“Cheeky.”
Alex stared hopelessly at the timer, but the sand seemed to be stuck. The game was definitely jinxed.
“Okay, okay, it's stroking,” the other Miles said, just as his friend's fingers began to caress his inner thigh.
“Correct.” The other Alex laid the card flat on the table and picked up another. His smirk turned into a full on grin. “Looks like the cards are on my side tonight,” he said. “Come ‘ere.” He grabbed a handful of his friend’s shirt, pulled him in close and planted a kiss on his cheek, and then another. He dipped his head and pressed a third kiss to the other Miles’s jaw. Miles’s other self said nothing. He just smiled and let himself be kissed. The other Alex dipped his head lower still, and pressed his lips to the side of his friend’s neck.
Alex didn’t know where to look.
Miles shifted on the sofa beside him, and now Alex could feel some serious side-eye coming from his direction, as if Miles was holding Alex personally responsible for his other self’s coquettish behaviour. The thought made him blush even harder. He had to call a halt to these proceedings before things got even more out of hand.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “You know what? You guys win, we forfeit.”
The other Miles threw his head back and laughed. The other Alex smirked some more. “Shame,” he said. “That were just getting good.”
Alex cleared his throat. “M'gonna go fix us some drinks in the kitchen.”
His older self stood up. “Don't worry, I can do that,” he said. “Might as well make meself useful.”
The other Miles stood up too. “I'll help you,” he said. He slung an arm around his friend’s shoulders and they disappeared out the door together. It was an instant relief to see them go. Alex’s face felt so hot, he wasn't sure there was any blood left in the rest of his body.
Miles turned to him with a wide-eyed expression. “Are you seriously gonna leave those two alone with each other in your kitchen?” he hissed.
Alex blinked. Oh god. He hadn't even thought of that.
The sound of the fridge opening and shutting drifted down the hall, followed by laughter, whispered voices, and then the clink of a bottle against a hard surface.
He stood up reluctantly. “I’ll... um... I'd better go make sure they don't break anything.”
He avoided Miles’s eyes as he stepped out into the hallway. There was a suspicious silence coming from the kitchen now and he paused for a few seconds beyond the door, taking a moment to brace himself. Even with these efforts, he found he wasn’t at all ready for the sight that greeted him.
Miles’s older self had the other Alex backed right up against the kitchen counter, one thigh slotted firmly in between his legs and both hands groping his bum. The other Alex had his head tipped all the way back, his lips parted, and his eyes closed as the other Miles planted a series of bruising kisses on his neck. He let out a contented sigh, and the other Miles growled in response, his fingers flexing around his friend’s hips and tugging him closer.
Alex gave a quiet cough.
The pair didn’t fly apart. Instead, the other Miles looked round and then uncoiled himself in a rather unhurried fashion from his friend’s body. He gave the other Alex a gentle nudge. “I think we have an audience,” he murmured.
The other Alex opened his eyes. “Oh,” he said. “Hi. M’sorry, we got distracted.”
Alex stared at the floor. “Yeah, I can see that.”
The other Miles pressed a kiss to the side of his friend’s head. “How about I leave the two of yous alone to talk,” he said.
“Perhaps that’s best,” the other Alex said.
The other Miles nodded. He picked up the bottle of wine from the counter and went to leave, but he paused as he drew close to Alex, giving him a slow, considered look. Alex could smell his cologne wafting towards him in a cloud. It made him feel a little dizzy. The other Miles smiled at him, winked, and then ruffled a hand through his hair. “You know, I forgot how cute you were,” he said.
Alex felt himself blush all the way down to his toes.
“Oh Miles, stop teasing him,” his older self said.
The other Miles grinned. “Sorry, lad,” he said to Alex. “Don’t mind me.” He tipped Alex another little wink and then he headed toward the door. Alex waited until he was gone before letting himself breathe again.
“Don’t worry about him,” the other Alex said. “He don’t mean any harm.”
Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked up cautiously into the eyes of his older self. "So you and him are... a thing, then?"
The other Alex smiled. "In a manner of speaking, I s’pose you could say that."
“How long for?”
“Are you asking me to tell you your future? Because I’m afraid I can't do that.”
Alex gave him a look. “Am I not supposed to know? Because if you really wanted to keep it a secret, maybe you shouldn’t have invited yourself into my house and started making out with my best friend’s future self in the middle of my kitchen.”
The other Alex chuckled. “Fair point,” he said. “But I didn't mean that I can't tell you because it’s a secret. I meant I can’t tell you because the future’s not fixed. You make it up as you go along. No one can decide your future but you, Alex.”
“So tell me why you’re here then. Really.”
“Aside from to drink all your booze and beat you at Articulate?”
“Aside from that.”
The other Alex leaned back against the counter. “To tell you that time is precious, and that you shouldn't waste it.”
Alex blinked at him. “What makes you think I’m wasting it? I’m happy, I’ve got a successful band, and I’ve got another one with Miles. I’m livin’ me dreams, wouldn’t you say?”
“All of them?”
“What’s that s’posed to mean?”
There was a pause while they looked at each other. Alex's other self seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but Alex kept his lips firmly sealed.
Eventually the other Alex sighed. He pushed a hand back through his hair. “I know you've been thinking about kissing him,” he said.
“What?”
“Your Miles. I know you've been thinking about it.”
Alex blushed harder than he'd done all night. His heart began to beat in his throat. “No I haven’t.”
His other self just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I haven’t,” Alex hissed. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, then folded his arms defensively. “Anyway, how the hell would you know?”
“I know you think about it, because I did.” His older self smiled. “You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet.”
"It's not like that," Alex said. "Me and Miles are just... the way I feel about Miles is like..." He stopped. How could he even put into words the way he felt about Miles? He'd call it friendship but the word didn't seem big enough. He couldn't call it love because that word carried too much weight, and there was nothing about his relationship with Miles that felt heavy.
Being with Miles was like walking down the street with his every step floating an inch above the pavement. It was the feeling of looking into Miles's eyes, and knowing he was understood even when he could barely spit out a sentence. It was the sound of Miles's fingers translating Alex's impossible thoughts into a perfect melody and then singing them back to him.
How could he explain that to his other self, or to anyone?
He looked back into the other Alex's face, and realised that he didn't have to. All his feelings were written there already in the other Alex's smile.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Maybe there is something between us. But Miles and me are friends. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardise that. And I'm not sure Miles would even..." He trailed off. Of course Miles wouldn't. Miles had never looked at him that way. It was only Alex's wild imagination that was leading him to colour their friendship in some invented shades of meaning.
His other self stepped away from the counter and came towards him. He laid a gentle hand on Alex's shoulder. "Alex," he said. "I know how you feel. But you can't live your life being afraid to chase your dreams. That's not living. That’s just existing."
Alex shook his head. "I can't tell him," he muttered. "Anyway, there's nothing to tell. It's nothing."
"What if I found a way to help you? A way to make it easier?"
"I don't think you can."
The other Alex gave him a thoughtful look. "Here," he said. He took hold of the ring he was wearing on the little finger of his right hand, twisted it off, and held it out to Alex.
"What's this?"
"It's for you. For luck."
Alex frowned at the ring. It was shaped like a shield and bore the words Death Ramps in raised silver lettering on the front.
"Death Ramps?" he said. “Huh. Nice idea. Maybe I should get Miles one of these.”
“Maybe you should,” the other Alex said, and he winked.
Alex shook his head. He slipped the ring on to his pinkie. "Do I really turn out to be just like you in the future?" he said. "Because in all honesty, I don't see it."
His other self laughed. "I guess only time will answer that." He wrapped an arm around Alex's skinny shoulders. "Come on. Let's go join those two troublemakers, shall we? Before they start missing us."
“Yeah… alright then.”
Alex allowed his other self to walk him back down the hallway, but he shrugged himself free as he entered the living room. Miles and his other self were leaning towards one another over the coffee table and they looked to be in the middle of a discussion, but they parted at the sight of Alex. Alex wondered what they’d been talking about.
The other Alex settled himself back on the sofa and started whispering in his friend’s ear again.
Miles gave Alex a little nudge. “You okay?”
Alex shrugged. “Yeah, m’fine. You?”
“Yeah.” Miles gave him a soft smile.
Alex smiled back in what he hoped was a natural way, but he could still hear the echo of his other self’s words in his head. I know you’ve been thinking about kissing him.
He looked away, and from the corner of his eye he thought he saw Miles frown.
The other Alex clapped his hands together, startling them both. “Right, you two,” he said. “Since meself and Miles were declared the ultimate winners of the previous game, I think that means we get to choose the next one.”
“You chose the last one too,” Alex pointed out.
“Irrespective,” his other self said. He grinned and shot a look in Alex’s direction. “I think we should play truth or dare.”
Alex stiffened, instantly on guard. What the hell was his other self playing at now? “S’not really my type of game, that,” he said.
“I’ll play,” Miles said.
Alex turned to him sharply.
Miles shrugged at him. “What? Sounds fun to me. I wouldn’t mind learning a few truths about me own future. How ‘bout you?”
“But–”
“Looks like it’s three votes to one for truth or dare,” Alex’s other self said. “You gonna play with us, Alex?” He lifted an eyebrow and gave Alex a calculating look.
Alex narrowed his eyes. It was pretty obvious what his other self was up to. But if the other Alex thought that he could use this daft game to trick Alex into making some kind of confession to Miles, he was going to be sorely disappointed. It wasn’t as though Alex didn’t know how to obfuscate the truth.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll play.”
The other Miles grinned at him. “That’s the spirit.”
“We’ll alternate turns,” the other Alex said. “One of you, then one of us. Sound fair? And since we won the last game, I guess that means we get to go first.”
Alex tried hard not to roll his eyes. “Go right ahead.” He ignored the expression of mirth on his other self’s face.
“Truth or dare then, Miles?” the other Miles said.
Miles glanced up at him. “Oh… erm… truth I s’pose? Though I dunno what I can tell yeh that yeh won’t already know.”
There was some whispered conferring on the other side of the table. “Tell us what you admire most about our little Alex here,” Miles’s other self said.
Miles blinked. It seemed that the question had caught him off guard. “Uh,” he said. “Well…” He hesitated, then turned towards Alex. “I guess I’d have to say that I admire you most for your bravery. You’re never afraid to take creative risks with your music. You took a big risk going on hiatus and starting up a new band with me, and–”
“It weren’t a risk, Miles. You were always a safe bet.”
Miles smiled. “Even so,” he said. “I admire you for going after what you want, and not just making tunes that you think other people’ll like. You stay true to your own vision. That’s what I like most about you.”
Miles glanced down at his hands as he spoke, his cheeks turning a little pink.
“Thank you,” Alex said quietly. It was hard to process what Miles was saying. He’d never seen himself through Miles’s eyes before. He’d certainly never felt himself to be courageous in any way, except for when he was standing on a stage next to Miles. He just did what needed to be done, and was scared shitless most of the time doing it. It gave him a funny feeling in his stomach to know that Miles thought he was brave.
Miles directed his gaze back at their other selves. “Do I get to ask one of yous a question now?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” the other Miles said.
“Okay.” Miles looked towards the other Alex. “Truth or dare?”
The other Alex smiled. “Truth.”
“Do me and Alex get to keep making music together in the future?”
Alex’s heart gave a little leap at the question. Was that really what Miles wanted to know most? Not about his future fame, or success, or relationships, but about the band that he shared with Alex?
“That’s up to you,” the other Alex said. “But I can guarantee that if you’ve the desire to do it, then yeah, you will. There’ll always be opportunities. It’ll be up to you to spot them when they come.”
Miles leant back against the sofa, his lips curved in a tiny smile.
Alex sat up straight as his other self turned towards him. The other Alex looked at him knowingly. “So, Alex,” he said. “Truth or dare?”
Alex felt a mild flutter of panic. His plan had been to choose truth and then to skirt the question with a clever choice of words. But he couldn’t lie to Miles’s face now. It would seem cowardly to do so after Miles had just called him brave. The problem was that he wasn’t brave at all. Certainly not brave enough to be honest about his feelings in the same way that Miles’d been. How could he be honest about his feelings when he wasn’t even sure what they were? His panic fluttered again. He was stuck in a place where he could neither lie nor tell the truth, and that left only one option.
“Dare,” he said. He folded his arms and tried to look defiant.
The other Alex just grinned. “Good choice.” He whispered something to the other Miles, and his friend started smiling too. “We think,” the other Alex said, “that you should give your Miles a kiss.” His eyes flicked to Miles. “As long as he's willing, of course.”
Alex’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. The power of speech had deserted him. He could read the expression on his other self’s face like it was printed in indelible ink.
Checkmate, it said.
Alex started to sweat.
The other Alex began whispering once more into the other Miles’s ear, and then both of them collapsed in giggles like a pair of children.
Alex jumped as Miles laid a gentle hand on his wrist. “Just ignore them, Al,” he said softly. “You don't have to do anything.”
Alex turned to face him. Miles gave him an embarrassed smile. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You don't have to,” he repeated. “It's just a silly game.”
A strange feeling began to swirl in Alex’s chest. Was it relief? Or was it disappointment?
“I– I won’t if you don't want me to,” he said. He blinked. Where the hell had those words come from? It wasn’t what he'd planned to say.
Miles looked as surprised as Alex felt. “It’s not that I don’t want... I mean...” The tips of Miles’s ears had gone bright red. Alex had never seen anyone blush from their ears before. Miles stared at him with a helpless expression.
Alex looked back into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts, but all he could see was his own confusion reflected. Miles made no move to do anything else, he just sat still and waited. Alex blinked again as he realised that Miles was leaving this decision completely up to him. Miles was relying on him to make the best choice for both of them in this ridiculous scenario. He clearly trusted Alex enough to give him that power.
Alex swallowed. It struck him then that Miles hadn’t actually point blank refused to kiss him. He hadn’t vetoed the whole idea. He’d given Alex an easy opt out, sure, but he hadn’t actually said no.
What did that mean?
There were more whispers and giggles from their other selves, but the sound was strangely distant. Alex’s world had shrunk to the size of the space between himself and Miles.
He knew he might not get another chance like this. If he kissed Miles now, and it turned out awkward, he could play it off as part of the game. It never had to mean anything more. Their friendship would be safe, and as first kisses went, the risk of humiliation was low.
So why was he hesitating then?
The seconds were ticking by. The moment was already starting to pass. He could feel it running through his fingers just like the yellow sand in the timer. Miles dropped his gaze to the floor, as though he’d read Alex’s hesitance as an answer to an unspoken question. His fingers slipped away from Alex's wrist, and in their absence Alex’s skin felt cold. The air was rushing in to expand the space between them.
Without forethought, Alex’s own fingers found themselves suddenly entangled in the smooth fabric of Miles’s turtleneck sweater.
“Miles.”
Miles looked up at him. “Yeah?”
Alex pulled him forward. “It’s just a silly game,” he whispered.
Miles’s eyebrows shot up. His eyes flicked between Alex’s eyes and his lips.
Alex’s stomach fluttered.
Calm down. It's only a kiss.
He swallowed hard, aware again that they were being watched by two sets of eyes from across the coffee table.
He ran his tongue nervously over his lips. Miles was staring at him too, and his rapt attention was becoming unsettling.
Alex took a breath. He just needed to get it over with. It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like he really cared whether he kissed Miles or not. What did his other self know anyway?
He tugged gently on Miles’s sweater and pulled him close. Miles was warm. Alex could feel him breathing. He could see all the different shades of brown in Miles’s dark eyes. He could smell the scent of Miles’s shampoo, and his aftershave. It smelt very different, up close. Everything was different, now there was only a breath of space between them. Alex’s whole world suddenly consisted of Miles and Miles alone, and within the narrow borders of this strange new place, he realised that he’d been utterly wrong.
He wanted to kiss Miles more desperately than anything he’d ever wanted in his life.
He leaned in with his heart beating in his ears, and he closed the gap between them. He pressed their lips together and Miles sighed against his mouth, and Alex breathed him in. Miles’s lips were soft and tasted faintly of smoke, and the gentle pressure of his tongue made Alex feel suddenly weak. Every ounce of his strength was fading and dissolving. He felt like he was floating away. He forgot the game, he forgot the room, he forgot the watchful eyes of their future selves. There was only Miles and the warmth of his mouth. There was only the thump of his own heart in his ribcage, the feel of Miles’s sweater clutched in his fist, and the sound of Miles’s breath hitching as Alex pulled him closer. Only a kiss? What an idiot he’d been to think it would be so. How could it ever have been only a kiss, when it was Miles he was kissing?
His ears were ringing. There was a strange beeping sound coming from somewhere. He pulled back for air and realised with confusion that it wasn’t only his strength that was dissolving. It was everything. The whole room had swirled into a meaningless pattern. It looked like a Monet painting seen from up close. Colours were blurring together and everything was losing its shape.
“What’s happening? Miles?”
Miles looked at him but he didn’t answer.
“Miles!”
But now Miles was dissolving too, disappearing before Alex’s very eyes. He faded away gently, no more solid than a mirage. That strange beeping sound filled the air, growing louder and louder.
Alex looked in dismay towards the sofa where their future selves had been sitting. The sofa was gone, and so was the other Miles. Only the other Alex stood there. He was watching, smiling, completely undisturbed by the chaos all around them. He gave Alex a wink.
“Good luck, Alex,” he said. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
And with that, he was gone, and so was everything else.
Alex opened his eyes. His alarm clock was beeping. He thrust out a hand, smacked it into silence, and then blinked at his surroundings. The room was dim, but warm light was spilling from the edges of the curtains. He glanced down at himself and found that he was lying on his bed, still dressed in the clothes that he’d been wearing yesterday. Miles’s guitar was propped up against his bedroom wall.
He’d been dreaming.
He’d been dreaming, the whole time.
But Christ, what a dream. It’d been so vivid.
He pressed his fingers to his mouth, seeking the warmth of an imagined kiss, but there was nothing there. He’d never kissed Miles. Miles had never kissed him. There was nothing between them save for friendship, and their band, and Alex’s wild imagination.
He swallowed hard. He ran his fingers over his lips once again, but the warmth there was his own, and nothing more.
He lay still. He could hear the sounds of the city waking up. The early morning hum of the traffic, the distant cooing of pigeons. Outside, life was carrying on as normal, as though it expected Alex to be able to do the same.
He scrunched his fingers into the fabric of the pillow and turned his gaze to the guitar. He’d fallen asleep while Miles was playing, that much was clear. Even though he'd promised that he wouldn't. It wasn’t the first time that such a thing had happened. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever dreamt about Miles either.
But it was the first time he’d ever dreamt about him… like that.
The bed creaked and Alex jumped. There was a soft sigh from behind him. He rolled over and found himself face to face with the man in question.
Miles was lying there fast asleep, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes just as Alex was. Alex stared at him, slightly nonplussed. Had Miles been too tired to make it back to the guest room? Was that why he was passed out here, next to Alex? Miles hadn’t seemed that tired, last night. He’d still been wide awake while Alex was drifting into dreams.
Perhaps then, Miles had slept here on purpose.
Alex felt a flutter in his chest at the thought. It was odd to know that they’d passed the night side by side; to know that Miles had been right here all along, while Alex had been dreaming of kissing him. Alex ran his tongue over his lips. God, but how he’d lost himself in that kiss.
He wondered if it would feel the same, if he kissed Miles now.
His face began to burn. What the hell was he thinking? The remnants of his dream were still clinging to him and he needed to shake them off. He couldn’t kiss Miles for real.
Could he?
His heart began to beat a little faster. His fingers crept over the sheets and he inched himself a bit closer, until he was near enough to feel Miles’s warm breath on his face. Miles looked so content, lying there, it seemed almost a pity to wake him. His hair was a dishevelled mess, and Alex reached out tentatively and brushed it back from his forehead.
Miles’s eyelids flickered, but he didn’t stir.
“Miles?”
“Mmmmf.”
“Miles, wake up.”
Alex squeezed him gently on the arm.
Miles blinked his eyes half open. He stretched out his legs, blinked a couple more times, and then his gaze seemed to focus. He gave Alex a lazy smile. If he was perplexed to wake up to Alex’s face mere inches from his own, he did a good job of not showing it.
“Hey,” he said. “You alright?”
“Sorry I woke you. I need to ask you summat.”
Miles yawned. “Oh yeah?” He scratched a hand through his hair. “What’s that then?”
Alex faltered. The last of his sleepiness was starting to fade and all of a sudden he felt uncomfortably awake. He twisted the bedsheets between his fingers. “Um…”
There was a pause.
“Is this a serious question?” Miles said.
Alex gave a slow nod. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess it is. And I guess I’m a bit afraid to ask it. You… you might not want to speak to me anymore afterwards.”
"What? Don't be daft."
“I’m not being daft, it’s just– before I ask you, I need you to know that I won’t mind if you say no. And if you do, I promise I'll never, ever mention it again. Just please don't get upset–”
“Al.” Miles laid a hand on his arm. “Whatever it is. Just ask me.”
Alex continued to twist the bedsheets in his fingers. He hadn’t really thought this through. He hadn’t planned as far ahead as actual words. What the hell was he supposed to say? This was the kind of confession for which no words were adequate. He might be here for days trying to find the right ones, and even if he did, they’d be a mere shadow of the way he truly felt. If only he could make Miles understand him, somehow, without the need for words at all.
He blinked, and just like that, the fragments of his dream came rushing back. He recalled how much more could be said with just a gesture or a touch, when no words would do.
He remembered how he’d felt, when Miles had told him he was brave.
He took a careful breath. It was now, or never. If he didn’t try, then he’d never know, and what was life anyway if he didn’t chase his dreams? That wasn’t living. That was just existing.
He leaned forward slowly, and in doing so he saw the instant that Miles realised his intentions. Alex paused for a moment, hesitating. He looked into Miles’s wide brown eyes, and waited for him to move, or recoil, or say something. But Miles did none of those things. He just lay there, still as a statue, hardly seeming to breathe. Alex took the chance. He seized every last scrap of his courage, closed the gap, and he pressed their lips together.
It was not so much a kiss as a question, and like a question it was brief and it ended with uncertainty. Alex pulled back and braced himself. He gazed cautiously into Miles’s face, and he waited for an answer.
Miles looked at him for a long moment. The daylight seemed to grow brighter in the silence. When Miles eventually spoke, his voice was calm, and soft. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that.”
Alex blinked. “You– you were? But– wait… when I was going to ask you?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean you already knew that–” Alex stopped and stared at him. “How long have you been wondering?"
“A while.”
Alex opened his mouth. Closed it again. “You–” He stopped once more, scratched a hand through his hair. He saw Miles’s mouth tilt upwards at the corner. “So… what’s your answer, then?”
“Kiss me properly and I'll tell you.”
Alex sucked in a breath. “Oh.”
Miles’s fingers were suddenly in his hair, their legs tangling together as Miles pulled him close. Alex’s hand found its way to Miles’s waist and slipped beneath the hem of his sweater. He traced the outline of Miles’s ribs with his thumb and Miles let out a breathless laugh.
“Are you going to kiss me or tickle me?” he said.
“Kiss you. Definitely kiss you.”
Alex leaned in, and kissed him. Miles let him do it and all at once Alex was floating again. He kissed Miles as deeply as he dared, licking at his mouth, pressing with his tongue, and his head spun when Miles moaned softly against his lips. His hand moved beneath Miles’s sweater and he felt the thrill of bare skin beneath his fingertips. Every part of Miles was warm, and real, and pressed up against him. Every part of himself felt alive and on fire. It was a hundred times better than anything he could’ve imagined. A thousand times better than any dream.
When he pulled back for air, Miles’s face was flushed, his breathing heavy, and Alex revelled in the knowledge that he’d done that to him. The very fact of it made his head spin again. He paused for a moment to calm his racing heart, taking his time just to look, and to breathe. He lifted his hand and brushed it over Miles’s cheek, awestruck that Miles allowed him to do it. His fingers tangled in Miles’s hair.
“Hey,” Miles whispered. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?”
Miles took hold of Alex’s little finger and twisted it towards the light. “You don’t normally wear rings,” he said. “What do the letters say?”
Alex stared at his hand. At the ring on his finger. It was shaped like a shield and it had raised silver lettering. But no, that wasn’t possible. How could that be possible?
“Death Ramps?” Miles said. “Hey, nice. Where’d you get it from? I should get me one too.”
Alex stared at the ring. No, it was impossible. It’d been a dream. It’d been a dream. Hadn't it? He twisted the ring round on his finger. It fit him as perfectly as if it’d been made for him.
“Miles,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me the truth. Am I dreaming right now?”
Miles tilted his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “But if you are, this is a pretty wild dream.” He cupped a hand against Alex’s cheek. “Kiss me again before we wake up?”
Alex looked back at him. The room was brighter than ever now, and the sun was flickering in through the curtains, turning the floating dust motes into tiny specks of gold. He could hear the traffic purring, the birds singing.
He traced his finger over the ring that had once belonged to his future self.
“You know what?” he said. “I hope we never do.”
He pressed himself closer to Miles’s chest and wrapped both arms around his waist. Miles said nothing. He just smiled and squeezed Alex back. Alex watched the dust motes dancing in the light, and then he closed his eyes. He pulled Miles in for another kiss.