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The pub was way too warm for a September night in the UK, but that could be down to either the amount of people crammed shoulder to shoulder inside its somewhat sticky four walls or the look that Scottish lad he’d met at Freshers was giving him from across the room. Gordon was it? That or something equally as Scottish and manly. He probably didn’t have about four billion names, Tony mused. No, that was a special gift reserved solely for him apparently. Although some of the people on his course who had probably drifted into uni from Eton or Harrow or wherever most likely shared his dilemma. In fact, they probably had more. Something like Reginald Archibald Mauritius Edward Pennington the Sixth or whatever was in the silver spoon guide to naming babies destined for Oxbridge nowadays. But he was getting away from himself. No, the most important thing right now was the glances Gordon kept giving him from across the other side of the room.
The pair had first met at the debate society freshers event, exchanging somewhat awkward hellos as they realised most everyone already knew each other from past education or the same social circles. After that they’d run into each other at a few more meetings, Labour Soc and Politics Soc to name a few. He hadn’t caught a glimpse of the guy at any of his Law lectures though, which made him wonder if he took Politics instead. And Tony did find himself wanting to know more. He’d been meaning to ask about the other’s course when they first met because apparently that was just how initial conversations with people at university went. Get the hellos out the way and then where are you from, what did you do at college and what are you studying now, that was how it went with everyone else. Except, they’d gotten started on a recent debate motion that was on one of the posters the society had stuck up and had completely devolved into a series of arguments, following from one topic into another for the entire hour and a half. Every meeting since then, they’d always seemed to pick up where they left off, no time for pleasantries when they had the EU and the current Labour Party policies to discuss.
But now, now he had caught his eye for at least the sixth time these past few minutes so that surely couldn’t be a mistake. Or maybe his mind was just making it up because Tony wasn’t particularly enjoying tonight’s PolSoc event. He didn’t know anyone else and half the people here he didn’t think he’d want to know they were so full of themselves. He wouldn’t mind escaping. And it looked like Gordon must have felt the exact same because as they locked gazes one final time, the man drifted to the exit. Watching him disappear through the door into the fresh air was enough to entice Tony to a similar fate.
Even as the brisk wind overtook him, the moment he stepped out onto the pavement Tony felt like he could breathe again. No more did the air reek of vodka and beer and the overpriced cologne of twats and he’d never been more grateful. He was also thankful for the coat he’d brought with him despite his flatmate’s judgment at taking a jacket on a night out. His mum had bought him the black garment just before he left for university, citing that he needed a good one to keep him warm while away. Luckily, he’d had a chance to veto the bright blue puffer jacket that would have him looking like he was set for an Arctic mission. This one suited him much more nicely, Tony thought to himself as he did up the buttons.
“Of course you wear a bloody pea coat.” Came a familiar gruff voice from behind him. As he turned, he spied Gordon leaning against the wall next to the door of the pub.
“Well hello, good evening to you too Gordon, you’re right, it is feeling rather brisk tonight isn’t it? Horrible weather for any sort of stroll.” The Scot merely snorted and stood upright.
“So that’s a no to the stroll then?”
“I don’t remember an invite being issued. But if it were then I don’t think anyone would actually turn it down if it was someone they wanted to walk with.”
“You’re right, thanks for the advice, I’m gonna go pop in and see if Martin’s free.”
“You tosser.” Tony beamed, receiving a similarly gleaming grin in return.
“Chips?” Gordon offered, coming up now to stand by his side.
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to get on Martin's bad side, his great uncle’s in the Lords or something.” Nevertheless, he started walking and the man next to him followed.
“Oh can we not, he won’t bloody shut up about that, I’m half tempted to give him a mirror next time I see him just so he can tell someone who cares.” The remark made Tony burst into laughter. Similar laughter to the type they would both be sharing the rest of the night as they explored the city side by side, wrapped tightly in their jackets and scarves, dealing with red ears simply for the chance at red cheeks. It had been a much better night than Tony thought it would be when he’d first entered the pub a few hours ago, but when he found himself back at the accommodation, his flatmate asking how it went, he didn’t mention Gordon at all. Because some things he felt like keeping to himself. Things like the first person to properly make him smile since he’d gotten to uni.
And that was how it began.
Two years later
“Why is this so difficult, I don’t understand! I’m gonna pull my hair out.” Tony mumbled to himself, head in hands, elbows against the dining room table.
“No you won’t, you’re too worried about going bald.” Piped Gordon from opposite him, not even looking away from his laptop.
“Wow, thanks, I really needed that right now.”
“You’re welcome.” After a few moments silence followed by another deep sigh from Tony, similar to the others he’d let out for the last hour, the Scot slammed the lid of his computer down. “Alright, come on.”
“What?” He was confused, but his friend was already standing, heading to put his shoes and jacket over the top of his pyjamas.
“We’re going out.”
“Where could we possibly be going at 1am in Fife?”
“If you’re going to visit during Christmas break and still stress about your final papers which aren’t due in for a few months yet, you’re going to get the entire mental breakdown in Scotland experience, so come on.” As if to chivvy him along, Gordon proceeded to throw the same pea coat he’d worn that night in the pub years ago at him from the coat rack in the hallway.
There wasn’t much more to do than to abandon his revision, put on his coat and shoes and follow Gordon out into the darkness of Scotland.
There had been a lot of this over the years, him following Gordon or urging him to come with. Usually it was to nights out, concerts, boring guest lectures he didn’t want to go to but knew he probably should, or even to late night revision sessions, Tony surrounded with books on tort and Gordon hunched over papers about microeconomics. Their subjects differed but they still kept each other on track, providing coffee where needed and urging breaks when one was on the verge of completely shutting down. That may have been how they had evolved into such good friends as time went on - they kept each other accountable and also had no one else. Well that second bit was only partially true, they’d branched out more as their courses went on and they joined other societies outside of their shared interests (although Gordon still to this day likes to ask how the very much now nonexistent band was doing). At the end of the day though, they always drifted back to each other.
That’s how Tony found himself spending the first week and a half of their Christmas break in Fife in Gordon’s family’s spare room, drinking in the place where his closest friend grew up and stressing over the final papers he’d have to write before graduating. It was those papers that had him mentally threatening basically every Law professor he’d encountered and questioning how much he wanted this anyway. Looking back, it was probably time for a break. Gordon always knew his tells better than he did.
“Are you even allowed to drive?” Tony questioned as he saw the Scot sliding into the driver's seat of the car his dad drove.
“Yeah, they put me on the insurance every time I come home. Now get in. Unless you want to try getting public transport to our destination, but I should warn you, you’ll be waiting about six hours for the first bus.” At this, he clambered into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll just have to see.” Gordon retorted, flipping on the radio as he backed out of his drive and headed for the dark roads of Fife.
Tony really underestimated the sheer amount of backroads in Scotland and how little light they had after the sun had set. In fact, the only source of brightness on what were essentially just narrow gravel paths was the car’s full beam. However, it didn’t seem to worry the driver.
“Look, I know we’ve both passed our driving tests, but how the hell are you navigating these pitch black snakes and ladder boards so easily?” He finally spoke up, ten minutes and two Queen songs later.
“I grew up here you idiot. I basically learned to drive on these roads.”
“Jesus.”
“Needless to say, driving doesn’t really intimidate me anymore, regardless of the terrain.”
“I hate that you’re still using words like regardless at half one in the morning.” Tony admitted, leaning his head back against his headrest.
“Says the one who came up with an entire essay on employment law at 2am. In your head too, do you remember that?” Gordon asked, eyes staying on the road, but flicking over at him quickly as he recalled the moment. The Englishman grinned back in response.
“Of course, when I broke my finger in second year. You let me dictate it and typed it up for me.” The memory, while painful in regards to his hand, was a fond one. He’d been freaking out the night before an essay he’d left until last minute was due. It was a somewhat normal event and he’d learned to manage it with buckets of coffee and the sheer adrenaline of being up against a ticking clock, but he’d never had to tackle it with his dominant hand out of use. Luckily, his friend was still awake and trudged to his flat in the early hours of the morning to help him get it done. In the end he’d gotten an 82 on that paper.
“To this day you’ve still not told me how you broke your finger.”
“And I never will.” Tony beamed.
They continued swapping stories, memories, top moments of their years of friendship until twenty minutes later Gordon pulled into a diner that shone brightly in the darkness, just off of a main road.
“Your final destination is on your left.” Gordon joked, attempting a Satnav-esque tone that just didn’t work with the Scottish accent that had only thickened as he returned home.
“A diner?”
“ The diner.” Gordon corrected. “Come on.”
All of a sudden, he was almost leaping out of the car, closing the door behind him, nearly halfway across the car park before Tony called out to stop him.
“We’re going inside in our pyjamas?” He asked, now out of the car, but leaning on the half open door.
“Unless you brought another dress option with you?” Gordon raised his eyebrow at the question.
“But...we’re in our pyjamas.”
“Stay in the car if you want.” He shrugged, walking backwards as he spoke before turning around and carrying on his path to the clear door.
Tony sighed. The twat knew. Knew that he could never stay in the car if it meant Gordon going somewhere without him, if it meant choosing a radio playing the same adverts every five minutes over another memory they may recount in another few years just like they’d been doing the entire journey. Tony hated him for knowing. But he followed him nonetheless, decidedly ignoring the fact he was wearing green plaid bottoms, a too-big T-shirt bearing their university’s name, a pea coat and white trainers. Then he remembered his friend’s similar ensemble and that made it a bit better because at least if they were going to look like fools they were going to look like fools together. Wasn’t that how it always was?
Upon entering the diner, Gordon was already up at the counter...hugging a woman? That’s when it all started to click in his head. There was a diner they both went to when exams got tough or essays wouldn’t come, it looked a lot like this one but more polished and less personalised. Tony had never assumed any reason behind them developing their little habit of visiting the same diner again and again when problems arose, but now it made sense. Their uni diner was a stand-in for this one. A habit Gordon had long before him, but one that he’d been let into. Somehow it felt more meaningful now. And somehow it made Tony forget about how they were dressed. A few seconds later Gordon was back, guiding them both to a specific booth, a menu in his hand.
“First time here then?” Tony joked as they slid into the U-shaped red vinyl.
“Yeah, never seen the place before this.” Gordon grinned back and passed over the menu.
It was pretty much the stereotypical diner menu, burgers, waffles, pancakes, hot dogs, some breakfast options that wouldn’t kick in for another few hours, all your basic hot drinks at basic prices.
“Any recommendations, oh wise one?” Gordon took a few moments to think after Tony’s question.
“Trust me?” Tony didn’t need any time to think about Gordon’s.
“Of course.”
“Gimme a second.” With that, the Scot was taking the menu from his hands before he’d even had it for a full minute and bounding back to the counter with far too much energy for this time of night (or was it morning now?). A few more moments and he’d returned to his side with an all-knowing grin eating at his face. It suited him, Tony couldn't help but think.
After more reminiscing, this time hearing more about Gordon’s childhood, his first time at the diner with his family, how he’d come here on birthdays and then, when he learned to drive, how he’d visit whenever Highers got too much or when he’d prep for exams on Christmas breaks, food and drinks arrived at the table. Now he understood the grin. A coffee was placed in front of him (decaf, Tony already knew, the Economics student always sneakily swapped him to it after a certain time), a chocolate milkshake in front of his friend and then identical stacks of pancakes for each of them. The plate was practically the size of his head and Tony had never seen anything more perfect for forgetting about final papers. He and Gordon shared a smile.
“Suitable?”
“Eh, it’s alright.” Tony joked, resulting in Gordon bumping his shoulder with his own. It sent a rush of warmth through him.
“Eat your food you twat.”
“Whatever you say, tosser.” Somehow the less than kind nicknames for each other had developed over time and taken on an affectionate twang to them. They only really used them when it was just the pair of them, but that just made them work all the better.
They stayed at the diner for another hour, swapping increasingly bad food puns through mouthfuls of pancakes and snorting at jokes timed exactly for when they’d taken a sip of their drink. It was one of the best nights either of them had ever had.
The car ride back to Gordon’s house was silent between them, but comfortable, it only being broken when they sang along to the ad jingles on the radio that they’d memorised by now. Tony was tempted to fall asleep in the heat of the car and the darkness of the backroads, but he found himself wanting to soak in every moment of this trip. He didn’t want to forget any part of this once he’d gotten on the train back to his own family and left the diner, left Fife, left Gordon behind. So Tony forced his eyelids open and instead watched his friend, drinking in the wild curl of his hair and the way his rough hands loosely gripped the steering wheel, the way his lips just barely moved along to the words of the songs playing. It’s strange, but somehow he thinks he’ll miss him just as much as he misses his family while he’s away at uni. Tony had never had that before, someone that was so present in your life that not having them there felt unnatural. He wondered briefly if everyone with close friends felt like this. Like they were missing a part of themselves when away from the other and yet like they were somehow more than whole when together. They had to. Because even with the time and the darkness and the overwhelming comfort of the moment, Tony wouldn’t allow himself to even think about what it meant otherwise.
Six months later
Exams were over, final papers were all submitted and it seemed like everyone had decided to have a massive celebration all on the same night. All societies, all groups, everyone flooding into every club or pub London had to offer to make the city theirs for the night. It was the one event Tony hadn’t needed to needle Gordon into attending. They’d started the night at the diner, ensuring they had a substantial meal to base their alcohol intake on and, well, everyone knew the best nights started with milkshakes in those large silver canisters.
Milkshakes, however, were a dot in their memories now. They were in the third club of the night after the four pubs they’d visited with PolSoc, losing seemingly half of their members at each place they moved onto. It was safe to say they were both indubitably hammered. Keeping up with their drinks had stopped four treble vodkas and five shots ago. Now it was just a state of permanent drunken euphoria, carelessness in screaming and dancing along to the music blasting in the club.
“Oh my god!” Tony screamed as Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA started peeling through the speakers. “This is our song, we have to go and dance right now!”
“This isn’t our song!” Gordon yelled back, trying to make himself audible over all the song.
“Is now!” Was the only response he got, eventually being dragged onto the main dance floor in between all of the other bodies, only almost-tripping four times while being manoeuvred by a severely drunk law student.
Truthfully, they’d seen both too much and too little of each other the past months. A severe focus had been turned to the last push into graduating. While they had spent a significant amount of time together, it had been in libraries or their rooms at their respective flats going over flash cards, essay plans, any revision material they could have the other quiz them on. While they’d probably seen more of each other than they had the previous months, they’d also rarely strayed away from uni topics which felt very unlike them. Gordon had missed it. It had been difficult to admit to himself at first, but he did. It was a little easier to be truthful tonight when his filter seemed to have been taken away by the alcohol in his bloodstream. Hell, he’d probably admit anything tonight if asked.
Tony was feeling the same. He hadn’t allowed his brain much time to think about anything other than what he needed to do to graduate, but when he tried to sleep at night it was free real estate. Tony’s brain couldn’t help but wander to his relationship with Gordon, how close they were, how much closer he’d started to wish they were, the thoughts he’d tried his best to keep at bay while at that diner in Scotland. Ever since then, every single night he’d tried to add another brick to the wall, trying to keep him from ruining a years long friendship that would never be the same again if he let himself screw it all up. Now, as their bodies were practically pushed, chest-to-chest in the boiling hot club, ABBA tumbling into his ears and Gordon wearing his favourite shirt of his, Tony felt the wall come tumbling down.
“Can I do something really stupid?” Tony asked his friend, practically shouting in his ear to be heard above everything else.
“When’ve I stopped you before?” Was all he needed to hear before grabbing Gordon’s cheeks in his hands and pulling his lips to meet his own. All of a sudden, he felt incredibly sober, like the fog had cleared to reveal a crystal clear sky now filling up with worry and fear about what the hell he was doing rather than the haze of shot-fuelled optimism. He was about to pull back and run for his life in any direction he could before he felt Gordon’s own hands at his waist, pulling him closer if that could even be deemed possible in the small space they occupied. All of a sudden the fog flooded back in, now created by the very idea that maybe he could have this, all Tony had been denying himself for months, if not years. Maybe he could let himself feel more for Gordon than simply friendship and maybe it was reciprocated and maybe it could be something even better than they’d been before.
Parting for air only made Tony crave the contact again, but it did give his ‘it’s complicated’ partner time to say something. He didn’t catch it the first time, it being lost to the general hubbub of their surroundings. When he let out a ridiculous sounding “What?” It was repeated.
“I said, that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”
Anyone who knew Tony knew of his repertoire of smiles and grins, he seemed to have one for any occasion, for every purpose, but no one could ever say they’d seen anything like the one he was currently wearing. And they wouldn’t see it at all that night as it was soon lost to Gordon’s similar expression.
One month later
Tony woke up to daylight faintly streaming in through thin curtains, casting a glow tinted cream from the fabric across the bedroom. Across the man lying next to him. He found himself smiling fondly at the figure, he found himself smiling a lot at Gordon nowadays, specifically with a smile he didn’t even know existed yet, but if you asked him in the future, he’d describe it as one full of affection and disbelief. Even now, after having woken up to this sight seven nights in a row, he couldn’t quite believe it was real, always having to reach his fingertips out to touch his arm, back, just something to check that the person next to him wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t been so far. Sure, the awakening would cause Gordon to grumble something about how he was as annoying as his actual alarm clock, but he always said it with a tired version of his own lovestruck smile that he could probably call him whatever he wanted to as long as he looked exactly like that as he did it - smiling and covered in a breathtaking glow of light. Tony had been raised Catholic, knew all about sins and blasphemy and everything he should feel guilty about, but seeing Gordon like that every morning, he could only describe him as angelic, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry about it for a moment (he’d say a Hail Mary or two later, when it was just him and daylight was no longer lingering on the cheekbones of the man he’d been pining over for years, but that was just for him to know).
Seven days, it had been seven days of this. Seven days since he’d graduated. The proof lay only in the picture now taking up his phone’s home screen, him laden in gown, a suited-up Gordon (having graduated himself two days prior) to his right and his parents beaming on his left. It may just be his favourite picture, he’d decided. He’d been worried about his...Gordon (they hadn’t settled on a label, but he couldn’t call him a friend now really, at least not just a friend) meeting his parents, but it all slipped away as soon as they’d started to converse. The Scot had pulled out all of his charm, discussing Politics with his dad and information about his own life with his mother, his time growing up in Scotland, what he intended to do now he’d left university. Seeing them get on had brought a warmth to the day that the British sun had certainly not provided, even in July.
Now, with his parents back home, it was just him and Gordon in their own little bubble. They both still had about a month or more before they started either a graduate job (Gordon) or further education (Tony and his damn Bar course) and were soaking it up while they could. Soaking it up had meant Tony wandering the flat in his favourite shirts of Gordon’s and eating the burnt toast the Scot made for them each morning as if it were the finest breakfast anyone had ever made. It had felt like walking on eggshells the morning they’d woken up together after graduating, a lot of internal coaching through it all and deep breaths. Even now, while they were comfortable in the situation, neither of them had pushed it further, asked about what happens once real life resumes once more, what they’d become when not pulled together by university experiences. Tony knew what he wanted, he even thought he knew what Gordon wanted, but he hadn’t exactly voiced it yet, held back by some inane fear that as soon as he would put it into words then it would dissipate, falling apart and slipping through his fingers. The bubble would burst and then he’d be left alone. So he stayed quiet, staying wrapped up in strong limbs and a tartan duvet cover and Gordon’s aftershave.
It was a few days later, in the darkness as they tried to let sleep overcome them, that he heard the voice cut through the silence.
“This isn’t just a fling, right?” Gordon’s voice sounded as small as he’d felt whenever he thought about having this conversation. “For you, I mean?” Tony turned to face him.
“No.” He spoke truthfully. “Is it for you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“So?” Gordon prompted.
“So what?”
“Are you really going to make me ask you out like we’re kids at school?”
“Only if you do it properly and ask a friend to ask for you.” Tony grinned.
“Oh I’m sure Peter would be thrilled at that.” He could feel Gordon’s grin against his lips as he kissed him. “Hey Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“I’d like to introduce you to people as my boyfriend, is that okay?” Within the silence of it all Tony wondered if the man could hear his heart and brain melt into mush, or hear the blood pumping around his body at a faster than usual rate.
“I think I could just about get by with it.” He joked instead, hoping to cover up any clear indicators of just how besotted with this man he was.
“Oh you bellend.”
“Yeah, but now I’m your bellend.”
“I might have made a terrible decision.” Gordon grinned, and Tony could swear it lit up the darkness.
“Too late, verbal contract, I’m a graduated Law student so you have to trust me.”
“I’ll never trust a lawyer.”
“God, such a flirt.”
“I hate you.” Gordon groaned, dropping his forehead to Tony’s collarbone.
“How handy for you, having just asked me to be such a big part of your life.”
“Seriously, stop talking.”
“Make me.”
And so he did.
Four months later
Tony hadn’t seen Gordon for three weeks, work keeping him busy on the weekdays and events and parties filling Tony’s time on weekends as he still pursued his last year of education before his training contract. They were both getting tetchy with the situation, he could tell from the brevity of their texts, the growing durations in between responses. It wasn’t like them and Tony hated it. That hatred was probably why he was out with his friends from uni getting drunk on a Thursday night seeing as their studying was done for the week. ‘Getting drunk’ was probably the wrong phrasing seeing as he was already quite inebriated. The thing that alcohol never uses as advertisement is just how honest it makes you, how every emotion seems to heighten and it wasn’t exactly working magic for him tonight. Instead, it had him ringing up his remarkably absent boyfriend, ready to confront him.
“Gordon!” He screamed down the receiver as soon as the other phone was picked up. He stumbled his way out of the pub, out of the back, settling into the pavement, feet nearly tripping on the cobblestone road.
“..Tony?” His boyfriend sounded half-asleep. “It’s midnight why the hell are you calling, I’ve got work in eight hours.”
“God, it’s always work with you!” Tony dropped his forehead to his knees.
“Are you drunk right now?”
“That’s not the point, the point is we’ve not seen each other for soooo long. I didn’t know accounting was gonna take you away from me.”
“I think you should head home Tony, we can have this conversation another day when you’re more clear headed.” Gordon’s tone sounded slightly frustrated. Tony ignored it.
“I’m perfectly clear headed right now thank you very much which is why I thought I’d finally talk about why you’re so distant.”
“Why I’m so distant?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” The air around him was starting to nip at Tony’s skin, but the alcohol coursing his veins kept it at bay for the moment.
“You’re the one making us this way.” Tony took a gulp of air as he heard Gordon’s words.
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I know you don’t want to hear it, so just go back to whatever you were doing and we can talk tomorrow-“
“No! We have to talk about this now otherwise we never will and we’re just gonna keep on going this way until we’re not speaking to each other at all and I haven’t seen you in months!”
“Then why do you keep turning down all the plans I suggest for weekends?” Tony said nothing in response. “See, you can’t even own up to it. Ever since I started at my job you’ve been weird, I don’t know if you just hate the prospect of growing up, but at some point you’re gonna have to. I can’t keep waiting to be turned down by you and waiting for you to get over this fear you have of being serious!”
“What-what are you saying?” Tony stumbled over his words. He heard the sigh over the line too audibly.
“Tony-“ He didn’t let Gordon speak, couldn’t, not as his brain processed his previous words.
“Are you trying to say we’ll be over if I don’t meet you in your new world of monotony and dullness?”
“My life isn’t dull.”
“I beg to differ-“ This time, Gordon interrupted Tony.
“Well how the hell would you know, you’ve not been in it have you?”
Tony thought he could finally feel the cold seeping into his body.
“I’m sorry,” Gordon continued after a moment. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
“It’s fine.”
“No it’s not.”
“It’s the truth though.” Tony admitted, picking at a thread on his jeans. “It’s just...I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just...scared.”
“What of?”
“Your life is real now. Proper job, long-term rent contract, paying taxes. You’ve got it all figured out and you’re just living it all. And I’m not there yet, I’m not even in the ballpark .” He started to run his hands over the small rocks at the kerbside, not able to look up even though no one was actually across from him.
“You don’t have to be.”
“Then how am I meant to fit in? Everything in your life is serious and I’m still going out with uni friends and leaving work until the last minute and skipping lectures for lie ins. What if our lives are so different now that when I see you there’s nothing to connect us anymore?” Tony swallowed, willing the tears waiting behind his eyes to stay where they were. “What if I’m not enough anymore?” He hated the silence that encapsulated the space between them. He could’ve sworn it had been days before Gordon spoke again.
“You will always be enough for me Tony.” When the law student didn’t respond, the other continued. “Do you remember when we went to the diner for the first time? The one in London I mean. I ordered the chocolate milkshake and you said that was the last thing you expected me to get, I think you still thought I liked coffee back then, but do you remember what I said to you?”
“Sometimes the things you least expect are the best.” Tony turned his head to the side, looking down one of the darkened side streets, almost expecting to find a mirage of the neon diner sign. He remembered the night so well he thought he might be able to conjure it up if he tried hard enough.
“And I was right, the milkshake was amazing, even you agreed.” Gordon pointed out. “But my point is, this thing we’re doing, me and you, I never expected that one bit. Not that I’d never thought about it, but I didn’t think it could ever be a reality. Getting to be with you was one of the things I least expected and you continue to prove what I said right to this day. I don’t need you to be anyone but who you are for that to still ring true.”
“I’m sorry.” The student almost sobbed into the phone.
“Forget about it, just get yourself home safe, okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded to the air like Gordon was there. Tony went to head towards the entrance of the pub to grab his stuff before pausing. “This weekend...do you wanna go to the Natural History Museum?”
“You hate it there.”
“But you love it.”
“Yeah,” He could hear Gordon’s smile through his voice. “I’d like that.”
“Night Gordon.”
“Goodnight Tony.”
The journey home was sobering, but he felt better having confronted the situation. He felt even better as they wandered around the museum that weekend, arms swinging between them, being pulled from exhibit to exhibit, the glow on Gordon’s face being the best attraction in the whole building.
One month later
It was steadily approaching Christmas and somehow Tony had conned Gordon into a day of shopping so they could start getting presents for people. If he ignored all of the small grumblings that occurred every time he spent more than five minutes in a shop then he’d even consider it a nice outing. To his boyfriend’s credit, he had kept his disgruntled nature to a minimum, even purchasing a few of Tony’s suggestions, some cologne he’d never heard of but apparently Peter liked for his present, a nice jewellery set for his mum with the birthstones of each of her children on. All in all, it was a massive success by Tony and Gordon standards.
“Oh I forgot they have a place here, please can we go get one?” Tony pulled on Gordon’s coat sleeve as he spotted the Ben’s Cookies shop taking up an incredibly small spot on Oxford Street.
“Do you know how expensive those are?”
“They’re worth it.” He countered.
“You can get a packet of cookies for a pound in supermarkets.” Gordon deadpanned, crossing his arms (which was his ‘I’m serious, this is me putting my foot down’ move).
“As if you’re trying to compare bloody Tesco cookies to Ben’s cookies , these are so much bigger and they’re warm and gooey and soft and my favourite.”
“They’re like three pound a cookie.”
“Not if you get the deal where you get five, then they’re cheaper per cookie.” Tony pointed out, only prompting a sigh from his boyfriend.
“But then you’re buying cookies you don’t need, you’re not saving money, you’re spending more!”
“You could never buy cookies you don’t need Gordon, how have we been dating for so long and you still think that, please tell me how I’ve failed so badly at enlightening you.”
“Stop being a drama queen.”
“I might...if-“
“No.” The deadpan look on Gordon’s face told Tony everything.
Five minutes later Tony was bounding down Oxford Street happily eating a milk choc chunk cookie with four more in his bag.
“You’re a softie at heart you know.” He pointed out between mouthfuls.
“Take that back right now.”
“Never.” Tony grinned.
“You just argue well.” Gordon shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his coat.
“I’m training for the courtroom.”
“God help the lawyer that has to face off against you.” His boyfriend mumbled. It made him grin gleefully, stopping them at the side of the pavement so he could lean down and kiss him. “Although I do hope you won’t be pulling those tactics out at court.” Gordon continued once they’d parted.
“No, I think I’ll save that just for you.” Tony winked, before catching sight of something in a shop window. “Oh that’d be perfect for Ali, come on!” And just like that their day continued, purchases intermingled with protests from the frugal one of the pair and puppy faces from the less than frugal one intermingled with brief kisses and the comforting squeezing of hands.
Six months later
“So how does it feel to finally have all of your exams done?”
“Bizarre.” Tony admitted, curling up on the sofa and picking up the beer Gordon had given him. “All that work and now it’s just all suddenly over? Feels weird.”
“A good weird?”
“A great weird.” He nodded, leaning into his boyfriend’s side as he finally sat down. “I can’t believe that this is it. That now, fingers crossed, I’ll have passed the bar and I start pupillage in a few months. It’s all too serious for my taste.”
“Just enjoy your victory today, don’t think about the work after this.” Gordon told him. “You get to celebrate now. No more years of education.”
“I still have to make it into an Inn-“
“What did I say?”
“No thinking about work after this, enjoy tonight.” Tony repeated with a smile.
“Exactly.” Gordon rewarded him with a kiss. It almost made the now finished law student think twice about getting things wrong on purpose just to irritate his partner. Suddenly, they were distracted by Tony’s phone ringing.
“It’s my dad, probably ringing to say congrats knowing him.” Tony grinned with a roll of his eyes, picking it up and answering the call.
Gordon watched as they talked, his boyfriend’s smile slowly falling, crumpling, being overtaken by a look he’d never seen on Tony before.
“What’s happened?” He asked.
“It’s my mum.”
The pair travelled up to the funeral a week or so later, Tony’s hand never leaving Gordon’s, as if he’d float into the ether and disappear altogether if he didn’t have tight hold on him. The past days had been a living hell, barely sleeping, waking up and having to realise all over again that she was gone; it had all taken a toll on Tony. Gordon had been by his side through it all, but he didn’t quite know what to say, he knew he couldn’t make it better, couldn’t make the pain go away, so he just held him, squeezing him tighter with each sob that wracked through his body as if his arms alone could keep the horrors of the world away.
Tony wore the pea coat to the funeral. He didn’t wear it so much after that.
Four months later
It was dark in Gordon’s flat. You could still somewhat see the city lights through the thin curtains, but Tony found it comforting. Each night this week he’d spent at his boyfriend’s place, ignoring his own place of residence that just seemed quiet and empty. He couldn’t stand it. Ever since his mum passed he just longed to spend his time with Gordon instead, hold him longer, watch him more closely, squeeze every moment out of every day now he knew how quickly it could all be taken away from him.
“You’re watching me again.” The voice startled him.
“I thought you were asleep.” Tony confided quietly, meeting his boyfriend’s clearly open eyes.
“That’s even creepier.”
“Guess you’ve decided to date a freak.” Tony shrugged.
“God I can’t believe you’re the person I’m closest to.” Gordon groaned. Then, a pause. Tony couldn’t quite place the look on his face, realisation maybe? Awe? “You’re the person I’m closest to.” He said again, as if he hadn’t quite believed it until he’d said it off the cuff.
“Peter’ll hate me.” Tony grinned. It prompted a similar look from the other.
“I don’t think he has it in himself to hate you.”
“Even still, I’d have fought him for you. I earned the best friend title first, before I even looked at you romantically. He can back off.” The words made Gordon laugh.
“Yeah, yeah I get it.”
“You’re not gonna say it back?” Tony asked.
“Say what back?”
“That I’m your best friend?” The incredulous look in Gordon’s eyes were challenged with a pleading gaze and a pout. A sigh echoed off of the walls.
“Fine. You’re my best friend. You happy?”
“More than words could say.” Tony buried his beaming smile into Gordon’s chest, cuddling into him under the duvet, arm wrapping around his waist. He could have sworn he felt lips against the top of his head.
After a few minutes of silence save from the odd ambulance racing around the streets of London, it was broken again.
“You know I would mean it without being cajoled into it, right?” Gordon said. “You are my best friend. Best friend first, boyfriend second.”
“Best friend first, boyfriend second.” Tony confirmed, glancing up to seal their pact with a kiss.
They didn’t actually exchange the words ‘I love you‘ until a month later, but they’d known anyway.
Three months later
A knock sounded on the door of Gordon’s office. Luckily his desk mate had left for lunch already as he glanced up to see his boyfriend waiting at the door.
“I was here to see about getting an accountant? Taxes and expenses and all that jazz.” Smirked Tony from the doorway.
“I thought we were meeting at the cafe.” Gordon ignored the joke and started to shut his computer off and grab his bag to go.
“Thought I’d surprise you, I’d not seen this place yet. Receptionist is very lovely by the way, she’s a fan of yours, says you’re proper polite when you see her.”
“And this is why I was avoiding you coming to my workplace for as long as possible. You need absolutely no more material to use on me.” The Scot shrugged on his coat and grabbed his satchel. “You ready to go?” He turned to see Tony staring at something on his desk.
“You have a picture of me on your desk.” Were the quiet words out of his mouth.
This was, in fact, true. For his last birthday Tony had gotten him a camera (to ‘make memories’ with apparently) and he’d taken it with him when they’d gone for a walk to St James Park. His boyfriend hadn’t been looking at him, caught looking at two ducks fighting each other in the pond, but he’d been laughing at something Gordon had said and so he’d taken the opportunity to snap a picture. Tony hadn’t even noticed but he’d cherished it ever since and had eventually got round to framing it for his desk, just to have something to keep him sane when work got incredibly shit.
“Yeah, I do.” Tony finally looked at him when he spoke
“You really are quite sweet sometimes.” His voice felt soft around the edges, lilting and warm, sounded like home if you asked Gordon.
“If you let word of that get around here I’ll never forgive you.” Gordon joked. He’d never been fully sure what to do with sentimental moments, they made him feel uneasy, it felt like something he could break and get wrong, so he often moved on from them as quickly as possible.
“Let’s get out of here then and I can tease you mercilessly for what a sap you are at the cafe.”
Tony kept his word, joking about it throughout the duration of their lunch together, but he also gave him that stare he does when he feels particularly in adoration of Gordon and held his hand throughout lunch, so, the Scot thought, it was definitely worth it.
Five months later
“God, what have you even got in these boxes, they’re so heavy!”
It was moving day. And while Tony was pleased at them taking the next step together and actually getting their own flat for the two of them, halfway between both of their places of work, he wasn’t such a fan of the whole moving process. Specifically because his boyfriend had apparently thought to pack boxes of bricks.
“I told you I was bringing my books, just let me carry them if you’re gonna be dramatic about it.”
“No because then you’ll think you’re stronger than me-“
“Because I am stronger than you.” Gordon countered.
“Yes but I can’t have you thinking that.”
“I already know that.”
“Impossible.” Tony shook his head, finally dumping the box onto the wooden floors of what would soon be their living room. Theirs .
“That was the last box luckily.” Gordon said, dropping two boxes right next to his one. Show off.
“Well, we managed it and didn’t kill each other, that’s a good sign.”
“We still have to unpack it all.”
“Really killing the moment here.” Tony spoke.
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” They paused, looked at each other and grinned. “Well come on, we can at least make a dent in it today, we only really need to get the bed set up and get towels in the bathroom and mugs in the kitchen.”
“Look at you Mr bare minimum.”
“Well I figured since you have such high expectations, I can lower mine and we can meet somewhere in the middle.” Gordon caught Tony’s eyes and became confused as he grinned at him. “What?”
“I love you.”
The words still made Gordon redden to this day.
“I love you too. Now go and make the bed.”
“Aye aye captain.” Tony saluted his boyfriend with a wink and picked up the box labelled bedding on his way to their new room.
Four hours and a takeaway later, the place was looking really nice. It was odd to see a mix of their things living together on purpose and not just the occasional shirt or mug left at the other’s place. No, this was a genuine mix of the both of them, a permanent arrangement of two lifestyles in the one place. In the one home. Because that’s what it was now, their home . Sentimentality draped in the glow of streetlights from the large windows that dotted one of the walls. Suddenly, a song came on the speaker Tony had set up in the kitchen that the pair knew all too well.
“What are the odds?” Tony beamed up at him from his spot on the kitchen counter as he dried the plates he was putting away.
“Pretty good since you chose the playlist?”
“I actually shuffled all of my liked songs, and seeing as this is only one out of about 1500, those are some unbelievable odds.”
“Technically you’ve been playing it all day so the chances of it popping up become greater with each song that’s passing-“
“Okay you’re good at Maths I get it.” Tony groaned, turning his attention back to the plate. Gordon couldn’t help but feel he ruined the moment with his need to point out the more accurate mathematical facts.
“Hey,” He prompted his boyfriend, who looked down to see a hand being extended to him. “Don’t leave me hanging, we always dance to this song.” Tony’s grin wiped away any guilt Gordon felt earlier.
He took his hand in his and they swayed together in their brand new kitchen, lit by the hustle and bustle of the city that had brought them together, Tony’s head against Gordon’s chest, taking in the way it vibrated against his cheek as his partner softly sang along to Lay All Your Love On Me.
Two months later
The slamming of the door should have been Gordon’s first indication as to how his boyfriend’s day had gone. The enraged grunt as he dropped his bag and coat at the entranceway instead of putting them away properly should have been the second.
“Shit day?” Gordon asked, only briefly glancing up from the new book he’d started just a few days ago.
“I hate her!” Tony practically shouted as he threw himself onto the sofa next to him.
“Is this that Clare lass again?”
“It’s like she exists purposely to frustrate me!”
“Think you may be reading a bit too much into your importance in the grand scheme of the universe-“
“She’s ridiculous! Everything that comes out of her mouth is the worst thing I’ve ever heard, she should just come with a mute button, it would make the office a nicer place.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely one to know about ‘nice’.” Gordon commented. Tony simply glared at him.
“You don’t know her, you wouldn’t understand.”
“And thank god for that.”
“It’s just been such a shit day.” Now this Gordon could sympathise with, he’d had many of his own throughout his time at the accounting firm.
“Tea?” His boyfriend stared up at him with the puppy dog eyes he’d become accustomed to when Tony was feeling sorry for himself.
“Yes please.”
As Gordon boiled the kettle he placed an order with their favourite Indian takeaway, receiving a confirmation email and estimated delivery time before he even poured the water into their mugs. When he did finally place the tea (in Tony’s favourite mug, the Mick Jagger one he’d somehow found at a charity shop a year ago) in front of Tony, he made sure to flick the telly on and to the most recent episode of Suits they’d been on on Netflix, knowing how much Tony had enjoyed taking the mick out of it and poking holes in the plot of the Law drama. Sitting down, Gordon raised his right arm, already anticipating Tony’s move over to him to settle into his chest.
“Thank you.” Came the mumble, ten minutes later. “It’s been a shit day, but it’s been less shit coming home to you.”
“We’d be in serious danger if it made your day worse.” Gordon joked, prompting a small smile out of his boyfriend.
“Almost as much danger as this bloody law firm would be in if they actually tried to pull any of the shit they’re pulling here.” Tony proceeded to rant about the show and the Scot loved it, drinking in the sight of the man he’d been in love with most likely since the day they’d started arguing at the freshers event for debate society speaking passionately in the home they shared. He thought back to how well Tony had seemed to fit into his house and his life when he’d come to Scotland all those years ago for Christmas break and how they’d somehow created this life for themselves just as easily and Gordon wondered if it was always destined to be this way. If the universe truly had just been waiting for the pair to bump into each other and take the first step on their path to mutual happiness. He didn’t really believe in fate, but with his boyfriend curled into him, bringing warmth and a hatred for a show that proved somehow charming, it made him want to.
Two years later
“I’ll see what I can do, but no promises, you know how he is.” Tony had the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he unlocked the door to their flat. Peter had been bugging him to try and get the pair down to the pub that weekend seeing as they hadn’t all seen each other for a while, but it was difficult to entice his boyfriend into any social situation, nevertheless one with Ali or Peter where he’d no doubt become a somewhat butt of many jokes throughout the evening.
Upon opening the door he noticed the place was entirely dark, save for a few flickering flames of light.
“Um, I’ve gotta call you back Peter.” Tony abruptly hung up the phone and found his way to the living room, where the light was emanating from.
“Is there a fire?” He asked, expecting Gordon to be home and dealing with it. When he made it into the room, he found that his partner was, in fact, there, but dressed up in one of his nicer suits and lighting candles. “Gordon? What the hell? Have I missed something, is it our anniversary?” He quickly thought back, sure that it wasn’t for a few months time.
“You weren’t meant to be home yet, I had another half hour.”
“Left early, Claire was doing my head in. What’s all this?”
“I think I might have scuppered it now.” Gordon looked somewhat defeated and Tony hated it. He quickly crossed the room, dropping his stuff on the sofa.
“Hey, I don’t know what you were planning but you’ve not scuppered anything, the place looks lovely, you look exactly how you knew I thought you’d look in that suit.”
“Ridiculous?”
“Ridiculously handsome.” Tony corrected. “You’ve not ruined anything.”
“I just, I had it all planned, you were meant to come in half an hour later so I could finish lighting all of these insane candles even though I’ve had to go through about half a box of matches because they clearly hate me and then when you came in I’d already be down on one knee and not fighting candles like a lunatic because, really, what way is that to-“
“I’m sorry, did you say down on one knee?” Tony felt his heart stop. Was he going to? No, surely not. They hadn’t really discussed it properly, maybe once or twice when a bit tipsy at the end of the night, but after he’d gained tenancy and Gordon’s promotion they’d devoted themselves to work and nights in front of shit telly and hadn’t talked about it any further.
“Fuck.” Gordon swore. “Now I have really scuppered it.” He carefully got down onto one knee, reaching into his pocket only to find it empty. “Right, I left it in the kitchen when I went to get the matches, give me just one second, pretend this didn’t happen.” Tony let out a laugh as his boyfriend basically sprinted to their kitchen and back, taking his position back up, now with a small black box in his hand.
“You really are a disaster sometimes, you know.”
“Yeah I don’t think I’m putting my best self forward here, but I’m hoping if you’ve stayed with me this long already you’re foolish enough to ignore all of that.”
“I definitely am.” Tony beamed, his eyes shiny as he took in the sight before him. A breath catching in his throat as Gordon opened the box to reveal a slim silver band shining back at him.
“I admit I’d kind of hoped to be a bit more suave about the whole thing, but I don’t think we’ve ever been that type of couple. We’ve been arguing since day one and we’ve never really stopped since. But I am hoping that today is the one day I don’t have to fight you to get you on side. I’ve had the privilege of having you by my side for years now, having someone who seems to have gotten to know me better than I know myself at times, someone who has seen the very worst parts of me and who loves me regardless, someone who’s crazy enough to go for chips with practically a stranger at midnight and hopefully someone’s who’s crazy enough to agree to keep going for chips with that man at midnight for the rest of our lives. I don’t really say it as much as I should, I prefer actions to words, but I love you and this is really the biggest action you could think of to show it, so, Anthony Charles Lynton Blair, even though I’ve possibly messed up at every hurdle this night has had to offer, will you marry me?”
Tony could barely see past the tears that had at some point started, barely speak past the lump that had formed in his throat, but he hoped the nodding of his head would serve its purpose until he could swallow them away.
“So that’s a yes?” Gordon searched for confirmation.
“Of course it’s a yes you bellend.” Tony quickly kneeled in front of him, pressing his lips to his, well his fiancé’s he could now say, hands framing either side of his face much like they had the first time he’d been brave enough to kiss him.
“I’m not sure you’re meant to call someone who just proposed to you a bellend.”
“We’ve never worked like that.”
“I suppose we haven’t.” Gordon grinned back, slipping the ring onto Tony’s finger and kissing him once more.
A year and a half later
“You know you’re meant to be inside.”
“So are you.”
“Well, you know if you go off somewhere I’m not gonna be far behind.” Tony sidled up next to his husband ( husband , he could call him that now as of about eight hours ago).
“Should’ve had that in your vows.” Gordon joked.
“Fuck off, they were perfect as they were.”
“Yeah, they were.”
“Oh no, you marry a man once and all of a sudden they go soft on you.” Tony bumped his shoulder with a grin.
“I think I might have always been soft for you.” Gordon confided.
“Yeah, you have.”
Their hands found each other, staring out from the balcony they were on across the outdoor area that some of their guests had spilled out into to dance, celebrate or to seek nourishment from the chip van they’d hired in one of their more sentimental moments of wedding planning.
“Does it surprise you that we made it this far?” Gordon asked through the quiet.
“No.” His husband replied quickly.
“Really?”
“I mean, it surprises me that I had the guts to kiss you all those years ago, even if I was drunk and it surprised me that you kissed back, but I think I knew even then that if we ever wandered down this road I wouldn’t be able to let you go.”
“Sometimes I forget you essentially make a living from your words and then you give me these moments that remind me.”
“I like to keep you on your toes still.”
“Oh, trust me, I know.” Gordon seemed to be referencing how their first dance song had been somehow changed from the soft classical piece they’d learned a choreographed piece to to the much quicker paced, Lay All Your Love On Me that they most certainly had not learned a dance for.
“Sorry about that.”
“I’ll appreciate it in maybe a year or two.”
“I’ll wait. We seem to have all the time in the world for it.” Tony smiled down at his husband (his husband! ), swearing he could see the exact same face of the boy he’d spotted across the room at the pub all that time ago, despite how his hair had changed and how new lines danced across his features.
“The rest of our lives, some may say.” Gordon smiled back.
“I think I can handle that.”
Their hands squeezed each other’s, matching bands glinting in the moonlight.
60 years later
The house seemed eerily silent. It always did nowadays when their grandchildren weren’t there, no screaming or the quick padding of footsteps across the floor, just the odd toy scattered across the floor and the crayon drawings magnetised to the fridge to serve as a reminder of their once having been there.
Time seemed to have passed so quickly, Tony wasn’t quite sure where it had all gone. Every promotion, finding a house to call their own for the rest of their lives, adopting their first child Leo and then, a few years later, adopting the pair of siblings Hannah and Ryan. Learning the ropes of parenthood, learning how to cope with your children growing up, learning what to do with an empty house when you hadn’t had one for twenty-five years, it all seemed to have flashed past in an instant. He could have sworn just yesterday he was debating whether he should go to the PolSoc pub outing at all, now, here he was, married with three kids and seven grandkids all thanks to the decision he made that night.
Looking over at his husband sleeping peacefully next to him, less of a glow filtering through the curtains now they lived outside of central London and Tony had insisted they purchase quality ones rather than the thin ones they’d lived with for so much of their lives, but features still distinguishable in the darkness seeing as he’d spent the majority of his life studying them. He still looked angelic, Tony thought. Even as his hair had grayed and wrinkles had formed and his eyesight worsened, Gordon still had the ability to take his breath away.
Their days surely weren’t as exciting as they probably had been when they’d first met, nights out traded for babysitting and finding crazy ways to procrastinate essays traded for nights in front of the telly, one of them doing a crossword while the other one tried to butt in with the words. He wouldn’t have changed anything though. Everytime they sat through a Christmas nativity play, or they took the whole family to the diner a few streets away for birthdays, Tony marvelled at the life they’d made together. It was a life he didn’t think he’d probably get to have, not in the way he’d wanted it. In fact, he’d spent years of his life holding himself back from any feelings other than platonic towards Gordon, simply letting it finally show had been enough. This was all just a ridiculous amount of icing on top of an already fantastic cake.
“You’re watching me again.” The voice startled him.
“I thought you were asleep.” Tony confided quietly, meeting his husband’s clearly open eyes.
“That’s even creepier.” Gordon’s smile broadened as they both recalled the first time he’d caught him staring. Back before they even felt able to explicitly tell each other they loved them.
“Guess you’ve decided to spend your life with a freak.” Tony responded fondly.
“It’s been a good one though, I suppose.”
“No,” Tony corrected his husband (he had trouble even now believing that he had somehow earned the right to use that title), “It’s been a great one.”
68 years and three months earlier
He’d wanted to come, he really had, but now he actually was here, Tony was itching to leave. He thought that the debate society’s event would be full of other eager, bright students, and it was, just it seemed to also be full of wankers who had egos the size of their father’s bank accounts. Every time he was introduced to someone that seemed so full of themselves he genuinely didn’t know how they’d manage to squeeze any of their course material in this year, he wanted to hightail it out of the door.
Apparently he had just one person left to meet on his way out of the door. The slightly shorter boy had curly brown hair and looked just as miserable on the outside as Tony felt inside.
“Hi, Tony Blair.” He took initiative on the greetings, seeing as he was clearly making no move to.
“Gordon Brown.” Huffed the other, who was apparently Scottish and had a much deeper voice than Tony had thought he would have.
They shook each other’s hands, neither of them knowing that they had just started down a wholly irreversible path known as the rest of their lives.