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Truth be told, Lucius hadn’t paid attention during his induction training. It was fine. He was a people person, he’d just wing it.
He hadn’t meant to rush on his first proper day either, but the clocks had gone forward at the weekend so getting up was a major effort. He was out of breath by the time he got to the eastbound Jubilee line platform but everyone else was in position. Cute bald guy and grumpy goatee guy reading the Metro were waiting to go east, the Santa looking sweetheart with the matching, snowy white Pomeranian were getting off the train heading west and, last but most colourfully, blondie in the teal coat was waiting for a less crowded westbound train. Steve, Lucius knew he was called. Wait, Stede. Close.
Meanwhile, in the window of one of the new flats they'd built directly opposite the eastbound platform was the stunner with the beard and the Bambi eyes. Ed. He was dancing as he did the washing up and it was honestly impressive that Lucius couldn't hear his music, given how close Ed's kitchen was.
Lucius had thought about simply waving at Ed but that felt bonkers. His next best idea was to use Newham Council's nonexistent planning enforcement as an excuse to talk to Cute Bald Guy, who obviously wanted an excuse to talk to him, too. So that’s what he did.
"Can you believe how close they've built those flats to the track?" he said, loudly.
Metro Man gave him a dour look. Whatever; today belonged to Cute Bald Guy.
"It is kinda crazy," the guy said, flustered but delighted.
"Right? I mean, look! Look at that supermodel doing the dishes! I don't get how he doesn't feel on display, but then if he really is a supermodel he's probably used to it."
Across the way, Stede turned around. First, he looked to see who was speaking. Then, he followed Lucius' gestures to the kitchen window and stared. And stared. The air crackled and the westbound train left without him.
Bingo.
"I've seen you before, actually," Cute Bald Guy said, oh so casually. "Do you work in Stratford too?"
"Yeah, I used to work as a receptionist at the Premier Inn but I just got a new job." He held out his hand as their train pulled in. "I'm Lucius."
Cute Bald Guy took his hand carefully, like Lucius might break. "Pete. Nice to meet you."
Lucius felt fizzy. He dared a look at the flats before they boarded and, sure enough, Ed had frozen, mid plate washing.
He grinned to himself. "Likewise, Pete. You sound like you're a long way from home."
They grabbed two seats facing the other platform, where Stede was still staring like a suckerpunched Romeo gawking at Juliet's balcony.
Pete told him energetically about his job - something flashy in cyber security - when the train set in motion and their arms bumped together.
Pete jolted. "Whoa, did you feel that? That was a serious static shock."
"Sparks must be flying," Lucius teased before hogging the armrest to get even closer.
*
Lucius’ line manager cornered him later that week, when Lucius couldn’t avoid him any longer in the open plan office without looking like he was avoiding him.
"How’s it going?" the man said, not looking up from his phone.
There was a knack to answering questions like that. If you bragged that you were doing great, you got more work. But if you said you had so much going on, people thought you weren’t coping and you got shown the door.
So Lucius went with "It’s going, thanks."
"Great." His line manager was clearly engrossed in an email. "Just get it done, yeah? Then on to the next."
Which was truly excellent advice.
*
Lucius found himself dwelling on his line manager’s super helpful, very actionable advice the following week when he was no closer to getting it done. It was, in fact, completely undone and getting to be a problem.
He stood on the eastbound platform and tried not to stress, which made him stress more. Metro Man was reading and Pete was sending him sappy (and horny, it was a 1:2 ratio) texts while he worked from Lucius’ place. He’d even made Lucius an honest to god packed lunch before seeing him off, bless his heart.
But that wasn’t enough to take his mind off how Ed-less Ed’s kitchen window was. He was on his twelfth check (not that he was counting) when he heard thudding footsteps and turned to see… Ed. All of him, including his obnoxiously snatched body and mile long legs clad in- excuse me, leather trousers?
And here he was, tearing down the stairs to the platform like he was auditioning for a Richard Curtis film.
Well, okay then. Lucius was tempted to take out his PB&J and eat it in lieu of popcorn as he watched him hurry over to Stede and-
Hold on.
Where was Stede? The westbound platform was rammed, but he couldn’t see Stede’s blond head or teal coat anywhere. Maybe Lucius should have noticed sooner though, in his defence, Pete’s texts had been very horny.
Okay. No need to panic. Stede made the same journey most days so he had to be trying to head west by some other means. DLR? District line? The DLR platform was closer so he might as well check there first. After thinking Legs For Days, stay right there loudly in Ed’s direction, Lucius took the stairs two at a time and pulled a face at the suddenly very long looking walkway that led to the rest of the franken-station.
He powered through the stitch he got almost instantly - so cool - and had just rounded the corner to the corridor with the DLR platforms when he was viciously attacked by a cloud. Or maybe it was candyfloss. Whatever it was, it sounded like an excited helium balloon and it was giving him great big sloppy kisses that at literally any other time would have made his whole week.
"Snowy!" an instantly familiar feeling voice said. It was cosy, like a blanket Lucius wanted to wrap himself in, burrito style. "Snowy, down!"
Hot Santa managed to disentangle Lucius from Snowy’s lead and used a firm hand to dust off his coat, sending tufts of white fur floating around them like supercharged snowflakes.
"Sorry, I don’t know what’s got into her!"
Lucius could hazard a guess. "It’s fine, I bet she can smell the food in my bag. You okay, Snowy?"
The pom wagged her tail so hard she looked ready to take off.
"She’s fine." Hot Santa grinned. "Aw, she really likes you!"
"Think she likes the smell of my sandwich, but I’ll take it." Lucius gave Snowy a fuss which made his coat nice and hairy again. "So, Snowy, what’s your charming dad called, eh?"
Hot Santa blushed. "David. Everyone calls me Fang."
"There’s a story there, right?"
"Yeah, kind of a long one."
"I’d love to hear it sometime. I’m Lucius. Sorry I nearly bowled you over."
"Nearly?" David flirted right back. "Were you heading down to the…"
"Oh, I was just checking…"
Lucius did an ungraceful semi-squat and peeked down the stairs at the DLR platform. No Stedes in sight. Fuck. And, to top it all off, Ed was catwalking sadly past them to the nearest exit. Double fuck.
"Nevermind," Lucius said, turning back to David. "The more important question is: where are you and the lovely Snowy going?"
"We like to have a walk on the Greenway in the morning."
More exercise. Wonderful. It was lucky David and Snowy were sweet.
"Sounds great, nice weather for it."
"Would you like to come with us?" David smiled. "Or are you on your way to work?"
"I am, but I can walk it." He assumed. He hoped. "Lead the way and tell me about this nickname of yours."
Snowy dragged them towards the main exit, or possibly in the direction of more food she’d caught a whiff of. Lucius didn’t find out which because he was too busy staring at Stede fucking Last Name in his bloody teal coat as he came striding into the station without a care in the world.
"Oh you’ve got to be kidding me," Lucius said quietly, though not so quietly that Stede didn’t give him a puzzled look over the top of his takeaway cup.
*
Lucius’ line manager cornered him later that week, when Lucius was filling his water bottle at the one working Zip tap. He immediately regretted his already shaky commitment to staying hydrated.
"How’s it going?" the man said, not looking up from his phone.
Lucius forced a smile. "Oh, it’s going, thanks."
"Great." His line manager was scrolling through his calendar. "You’ve got it done then, yeah? On to the next?"
"Absolutely, something like that," Lucius said before trying to subtly drown himself with the contents of his Chilly’s.
*
The only thing worse than working on the weekend was how rammed the tube was because it was, predictably, a gorgeous, sunny day. Stede was onboard (amazing), and so was Ed (iconic), in a literal crop top and those leather trousers again. Unless he owned multiple pairs of leather trousers. Now there was a thought.
Focus.
Easier said than done when Metro Man was sitting directly opposite Lucius in the middle of the carriage, not that he could see him since Ed was standing between them and made a better supermodel-door than a supermodel-window. Stede, meanwhile, was five sweaty bodies further down the way in the free-for-all that was the space by the main doors. Amateur.
"You sure you don’t want to sit?" a stupidly hot, hoarse voice said.
Lucius’ jaw dropped when he realised it belonged to Metro Man. Oh, that did not help at all.
"I’m getting off at Canary Wharf, it’s fine," Ed said.
"Why you going there?"
"For the ambience."
Metro Man’s laugh sounded like gravel in a blender.
All he had to do was keep his stupid mouth shut. Just keep his stupid, horny mouth shut and ignore how the gross, salty air was practically sparking.
Sadly, Lucius was not god’s strongest soldier.
"I cannot believe you’re Northern," he blurted out.
Ed looked down at him blankly. "What?"
Metro Man sighed. "He means me."
Ed shimmied half a step to the side to give Lucius a clear view of Metro Man giving him the shittiest look of his life.
"Well?" Lucius said, because he just had to keep stirring.
"Well, what?"
"I can’t believe you’re Northern but you’ve been giving me dirty looks for talking on the tube for weeks. Where’s the solidarity?"
The next station was Canning Town. The train slowed, the doors opened. People decanted and boarded. There were now only three sweaty bodies between Ed and Stede. But more noteworthy still, Metro Man’s eyes were smiling. The cheeky little tart.
"Solidarity for what?" Metro Man said.
"We’re both Northern!"
"Since when?"
"I’m from Newark," Lucius said.
"That’s not the North."
"What, so I’m Southern now?"
"You’re Midlands," Metro Man said.
"Which is the North, basically."
"Not in my books."
"For the record, I’ve got no clue what either of you are talking about," Ed said.
"Me neither," Stede chimed in, down the way.
Ed’s eyes went wide. "Kia ora?!"
"Kia ora!"
"Unbelievable!" Ed tried and failed to get a proper look at him. "What’re you doing here, man?"
The next station was North Greenwich. An entire coachload of tourists squeezed in through the main doors and drowned out Stede’s answer.
"D’you know that guy?" Ed demanded of Lucius. "With the hair. And the nose. And the eyes?"
Fuck. What was the right answer here?
"I’ve seen him around," Lucius tried.
"What’s his name?"
"What’s it matter?" Metro Man intervened.
"He’s Kiwi, Iz! You never get Kiwis in East London, they’re all out in Acton!"
"What the fuck’re they doing in Acton?"
It wasn’t the point but Lucius couldn’t keep from saying "Your name’s Iz?"
"Israel," Iz said.
"Israel Basilica," Ed said.
"Wow," Lucius said. "I literally don’t know what to say to that."
"Find that fucking hard to believe," Iz muttered.
The next station was Canary Wharf. Stede was busy chatting to some tourist and her gran, because of course he was.
"I’m next," Ed said. He looked at Lucius. "You should give Iz your number."
Lucius choked on the Alanis Morrissette of it all.
Iz was trying to kill Ed with his eyes. "Don’t."
"Nah, do, he wants you to, he just can’t say anything that isn’t swearing or arguing about Middleland or whatever." Ed gave Iz a wink before weighing up which set of doors to use. "Alright, wish me luck."
"I think it’d be easier to go for the main doors," Lucius said, like it was totally, completely whatever.
"No way, that lot’s tourists," Iz said. "They’ll never move in time."
"That’s two votes for this door," Ed said, though he sounded miffed about it.
Lucius channelled his frustration into digging around in his bag for an old Lush receipt and his glittery pink pen with the feathery end (that he’d not-so-ironically bought from Claire’s) and scribbled out his name and number for Iz.
He was dotting the I in his name with a heart when he noticed that Stede bloody Last Name, in his skin-tight sky blue t-shirt, was clambering towards his own set of doors, eyes glued to Ed. Fuck.
Lucius jumped to his feet. "Actually, just realised, this is my stop too."
He held the receipt out.
Iz took it with a glower that was practically a grin. "Enjoy."
There was no time to relish his little victory. The next station was Canary Wharf. Lucius completed the obstacle course that was getting out of the doors and into the corporate zombie wasteland of Canary Wharf station.
Ed was searching the crowd for his fellow Kiwi. Lucius joined in, then looked back at the train, where Stede was still politely tapping on sweaty shoulders in a bid to get past the battalion of tourists blocking his way. Rookie error. The doors slid shut and off he whizzed to Canada bloody Water.
"Fuck!" Lucius said.
So did Ed, before frowning at him with suspicion.
"I left my headphones on there," Lucius improvised.
Ed grunted then stuffed his hands in his pockets and gloomily sashayed away.
So much for that, then. Lucius weighed up either heading home or to the office before deciding to just fuck it all and go for a disappointing Cheer Up, Bitch brunch at The Breakfast Club instead.
He perked up more when he saw that Iz had already texted him: I’ve put you in my phone as Midlands.
But you have put me in your phone x Lucius replied.
There was a damning pause. His phone felt ready to shock him when the reply came: Summat to do.
Too easy. But then Lucius was too easy: I can think of other things to do x
He didn’t see Iz’ response because he was busy walking straight into the ticket barrier, which hadn’t liked his debit card, apparently.
"Whoa, hey!"
The ticket barrier liked the person behind him, though. The gates opened and Lucius made an undignified noise as he fell.
A strong hand grabbed his shirt before he hit the ground. "Maybe look where you’re going?"
Lucius registered shaggy hair. A weird duster looking coat and a moody scowl and dark eyes and- Oh no. Oh dear.
"Did you hit your head?" they said when he kept on stupidly staring at them.
Lucius forced himself to blink. "Sorry. You’re so right, I was just." He put his phone away. "Thank you for breaking me out of the Death Star."
They smirked. "Welcome. Place sucks, right?"
"God, so much. Thanks again for rescuing me. See ya."
Lucius set off in the direction of subpar pancakes. So did the stranger. The traffic lights were already green at the crossroads. Lucius crossed. So did the stranger.
The stranger glanced at him. "Uh, where are you going?"
"I’m not following you! I’m going to The Breakfast Club, I think."
"You think?"
"I’m mostly operating on vibes," Lucius said.
"Okay." They clearly thought he was insane. "I’m headed there. Meeting my partner and a friend."
"Why? Like, not to judge but this was your best option for brunch, really?"
They snorted a laugh and Lucius nearly walked into a lamppost.
"It’s like, equidistant for everybody," they said.
"Mm, delicious equidistance."
"Anyway, I don’t do brunch, I do lunch."
Lucius grinned. "You should try it sometime, it’s good."
"Just makes people feel okay about getting up at noon."
"The clocks went forward, we’re all struggling."
Now they were grinning too. Completely uncalled for. "That was weeks ago!"
"Okay, I need to know your name if you’re gonna keep shaming me like this."
They considered for a moment before shrugging. "Jim."
"Lucius. Hey."
It turned out that The Breakfast Club’s bookings computer was on the blink.
"Sorry," the waiter said as he tried to get it working. "I can’t check the system right now but it doesn’t look like we’ve got any tables for one at the minute."
A gorgeous black guy waved Jim over to a table by the windows.
"Where’s Frenchie?" Jim said as they sat.
"He’s come down with something, so it’s just us. D’you know that guy?"
Lucius tried to look like he was reading his new messages from Iz and David and Pete and not just smiling like an idiot at the way Jim was looking from their table’s empty chair to Lucius and back again.
"Hey Lucius," Jim said. "How badly do you want those subpar pancakes?"
Lucius smiled sweetly back at them and their partner. "Badly enough that I’ll call them lunch?"
Jim pushed the spare chair out with their foot.
*
Lucius’ line manager cornered him later that week. If you could call a three month probation review cornering. He felt cornered when the man launched straight in by asking how the Owens/Khan case was going.
Lucius fiddled with his water bottle. "Well, I’m actually still kind of tying some loose ends on Teach/Bonnet."
His line manager looked up from his phone. "What?"
"Just a few minor details."
"But they’re together?"
Maybe he could just club himself to death with his Chilly’s. "What does it really mean to be together?"
His line manager put down his phone. Screen facing down. Oh fuck. This was bad.
Please have mercy, Lucius thought loudly. There’s a cost of living crisis and I have six partners and I'm co-parent to a dog.
"I’ve come close a few times," Lucius said. "It’s just been a bit… tricky."
"Tricky? Why would it be tricky?" His line manager picked up his lever arch and flicked through it with increasingly wide eyes. "God, no wonder the tube’s been on time all week."
"Sorry?"
The man shot a look around the office before hissing "The fabric of the universe is tearing!"
"That feels like an exaggeration."
"When have you ever known the tube to be this punctual?"
"Never?"
"And they agreed a ten percent pay rise with the unions. Shit." His line manager ran his hands through his hair. "Oh god, I should have realised you’d naffed it up."
That was just rude. "Maybe they’re not meant to be together?"
"They’re two gay, traumatised middle-aged Kiwis living in West Ham! What are the odds of that?!"
"I guess that is a bit weird."
His line manager took a deep breath. "Okay, alright. It’s not over yet. We can fix this without getting Karen involved."
Lucius knew he should know who Karen was. Based on context clues, namely the terrified way his line manager said her name, she was either his line manager’s boss or Satan.
"I’m going to extend your probation by three months."
"Thank you, I really appreciate that."
His line manager ignored him. "But so help me, if you don’t get those two together - properly together - in the next seven days…"
"I’ll get the sack?"
"That, and time and space will cave in."
"No pressure then." Lucius tittered. "Any tips for how I should…"
His line manager snapped the folder shut. "Just get it done."
*
On Monday, Ed did something to his knee on the Jubilee line platform stairs and had to hobble back to his flat.
On Tuesday, Stede had the volume up so loud on Sparks’ new album that he didn’t hear Ed trying to tell him he also liked Sparks' new album.
On Wednesday, Ed stuck a piece of paper with his number on it to his kitchen window but Stede didn’t have his distance glasses.
On Thursday, Ed staggered down to the platform just as some genius pressed the emergency alarm on the westbound train, bringing it to a grinding halt. Carriages four, five, six and seven were stuck on the platform, which would have been great, but for the fact that Stede fucking Bonnet was in carriage three, staring at fuck all while the driver reset the system.
And, best of all, it kept getting hotter. Obnoxiously so. Lucius pretended to wait for the bloody eastbound train and there came Ed, dragging himself down the stairs to the Jubilee line platforms, looking every which way for Stede who was- God knew. Maybe he’d been abducted by aliens. The universe was collapsing in on itself and the electric crackle in the air was so strong Lucius felt like he had permanent pizza burn on his tongue. He could taste it, hear it, feel it and, actually, was it just him or did everything look weird as well? Sort of dark around the edges like on that one roasting hot sports day when he was ten, right before he’d fai-
*
"No way, you work in security too?"
Wait. Lucius knew that voice.
"Only part time but, yes!"
Lucius knew that voice too.
"Wow! Never would have guessed."
"I know, I get that a lot."
"Where do you work?" Ed said.
"Do you know Printworks?" Stede said.
"Hold on, you’re a bouncer?"
"I prefer to think of myself as a listener and mediator."
"Amazing," Ed said. "I work at one of the pubs by West Ham’s stadium. Mostly just threaten to kick the shit out of anyone who doesn’t behave."
"I imagine that works very well, too!"
"You’ll have to tell me about your approach man, sounds great."
"Ah! I think he’s coming round. You said his name’s Lucius?"
"That’s what my friend said. And my other friend. They’re dating him."
Lucius squinted up at them from his spot, flat on the ground on the eastbound Jubilee line platform. Cringe. His back was never going to forgive him.
"They’re-? Nevermind. Lucius?" Stede’s smiling face swam into view. "How are you doing?"
"Went down like a sack of shit, mate," Ed said, not unkindly.
"I’m okay, I just need a minute." Lucius let them walk him over to a bench. The pair sat either side of him then leaned forward and carried on with their conversation like he was their shopping bags.
Eventually, Stede noticed him again. "Do you need any water, Lucius? I could go and find a vending machine and-"
Lucius gripped Stede’s arm. "Not on your life."
"You know," Ed said, "it’s best practice to stay with someone who’s fainted for at least… fifteen minutes?"
"And we did both find him," Stede said. "So we really both ought to…"
Lucius let his head loll back and grinned at the stupidly sunny sky. Oh thank god, this was happening.