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“You’re going to have to tell him, Wy.”
Wylan glares at Nina over the top of his red-velvet cake, decorated with dark chocolate ganache icing, white chocolate roses, whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles.
“But you like cake.” He objected.
“Absolutely,” said Nina, “I’m only telling you this because I am such a truly selfless and amazing friend: Wylan, you have to tell Jesper you have coeliac disease. If he wanted to give me cake, he would give it to me .”
Wylan could feel the panic starting to creep around the edges of his chest, making his breathing difficult.
“But it’s not hurting anyone. He likes to give me cake, I like to give you cake, and you like cake! They’re even good cakes! I don’t understand where the problem is here.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell him! He would want to know, Wy.”
Wylan opened his mouth to explain and felt his voice catch in his throat. For Saints sake. As if he didn’t have enough problems to worry about. Zenik’s eyes softened.
“Oh sweety,” she said, voice full of concern (why wouldn’t the floor open and swallow him? Was there no God?) “Here, give me the cake and have a seat. I’ll make us some coffee and we’ll have a chat about it.”
It had all started when Jesper – beautiful, bright-eyed, larger than life, popular Jesper – moved into the room in the Slat opposite Wylan’s. They had been the only two on that floor at the time. Jesper had bought celebratory cupcakes and Wylan was so touched (and so incredibly smitten) that he had eaten them. Of course, he had thrown them up again later, but by then Jesper had been out on a job, so was none the wiser. He explained away a week of puffy eyed squinting on a bad reaction to a non-existent wasp sting. Wyan and wasps didn’t get on well; it was plausible.
It would have been fine. Damn it, it was fine. Except that now Jesper thought Wylan liked chocolate cake (he had and foolishly said something to that effect the first time) and whenever he was in a particularly benevolent mood – which was often – he made Wylan cake. Wylan couldn’t tell him. He just couldn’t tell Jesper that he had been enough of an idiot to make himself squint for a week and vomit out of politeness. So, he made excuses not to eat the cake - often sending Jesper away with slices - and gave the baked goods to Nina. Which had been working wonderfully, up until now.
“It’s going to be easier for Jesper if you tell him,” said Nina, looking at Wylan sagely over the rim of her coffee cup. “If someone else tells him, he’ll think that you’ve been making yourself ill by eating his baking all this time, or that you’ve been throwing it out.”
“Why would anyone else tell him?”
“I can’t be the only one in the Dregs that knows gluten makes you sick, you eat with us.”
“Only on chip nights. I suddenly find I have very important explosives business to attend to when there’s pizza.”
Nina pinched the bridge of her nose, “You know we would have ordered in gluten free pizza for you, if you had asked, right?”
“That’s not the point!”
“Wylan!” Nina snapped, “this is completely ridiculous. Either tell Jesper you can’t eat his cake or I will. There, that’s the end of it.”
“I hate you!” said Wylan, and meant it.
“Somehow, I think I can live with that,” said Nina, eyes steely and glinting.
Wylan sulked and avoided everyone for a week.
The next Saturday, someone knocked on his door and, working on autopilot, Wylan opened it. In front of him were Nina and Jesper. Nina put her steel-capped boot in the door jam to stop him from closing it again, slung an arm over Jesper’s shoulder, and said “Jesper darling, Wylan has something he has been meaning to tell you. Stop scowling Wylan, sweetheart, the wind might change and then we’ll be stuck having to look at you like that forever. Now step inside, there’s a dear, we’re coming in.”
“But why didn’t you just tell me before ?” said Jes, looking hurt. This. This look was exactly why Wylan hadn’t told him. Wylan blushed and looked at his knees.
“I liked you bringing me cake,” he said, softly.
“But you couldn’t… Oh,” said Jesper. Then he smiled, his expression an inextricable mix of wicked and delighted. “I think I understand.”
“Took the two of you long enough,” said Nina, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, the pair of you…”
On Wylan and Jesper’s first date, they baked gluten free cake together. It was magnificent. Wylan hadn't lied, he did truly like chocolate cake. And it tasted even better on Jesper’s lips.
On Valentine's day, Jesper gave Wylan a gluten free cook book. Wylan could tell what it was, there was a picture of a cake on the cover, and the crossed out wheat sheaf symbol that denoted coeliac safe food. It was such a thoughtful present, but…
“What’s wrong?” Jesper frowned.
It was such a sweet idea for a gift. Wylan almost said that nothing was wrong, that he loved the book, he even had his mouth open to say it when he realized he was being an idiot.
“Ah, Jes?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever heard of something called dyslexia?”
On February the 15th Wylan received an email with an audio attachment of all the recipes in his new book, read aloud in Jesper’s sexy baritone. It was the best late Valentine’s gift in the world – Wylan loved his boyfriend so much. The only drawback was that he got too distracted by Jesper’s voice to pay attention to the recipes, and that was before he heard Jesper’s vanilla extract innuendos… well.
Some things were better than cake, after all.