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“Are you sure about this?” Greg asked, for what had to be the eighteenth time. That hour.
Alex just gave him an amused look as he rearranged the flowers on the coffee table, also for the eighteenth time – at least, that’s how it felt to Greg. “They’re already on their way,” he reminded Greg, shifting the vase one inch to the right in a self-satisfied sort of way. “Think we’re a bit past that.”
Greg just scowled. “I could always block them at the door,” he offered, only half-joking. “Sian might put up a bit of a fight but Rhod’s weak. Hell, even you could take him.”
“Physically, maybe,” Alex said, though he sounded somewhat skeptical. “But he’s wily. And charming when he wants to be.”
“And wiles and charm are enough to overpower you?” Greg asked, amused.
Alex opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Guess we’ll find out,” he told Greg, leaning in to give him a swift peck on the cheek. “It’ll be fine. Worse comes to worst, you can drag Rhod out by the ear.”
“Now there is a thought,” Greg said, instantly cheered, as Alex went to open the door.
“We brought wine,” Sian said in lieu of a greeting, kissing Alex’s cheek as she brushed past him, holding the bottle in question aloft. “And when we run out of that—”
“More wine,” Rhod supplied, pausing in the doorway to give Alex a quick once over. “Alright then?”
Alex smiled, slightly smaller than his usual grin but no less warm. “Never better,” he said, taking the second bottle of wine from Rhod. “How’re you, Rhod?”
Rhod just waved a distracted sort of hand, having spotted Greg giving Sian a hug. “There he is,” Rhod said, seemingly in a cheerful mood.
But Greg knew Rhod too well, knew in an instant as Rhod practically loped across the room that this was him putting on a performance. Which Greg also knew meant that Rhod was nervous.
Typical class clown: terrified of the attention and spotlight being put on him for the wrong reason, so preempting it by attention seeking for the “right” reason.
Usually Greg wasn’t inclined to indulge him, but today, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to be magnanimous. So he accepted the one-armed hug Rhod offered before pulling away to study him, mock-stern. “Have you had predrinks or just a load of sugar?” he asked.
Rhod faked a gasp, picking up immediately on where Greg was going. “D’you know, I resent the implications of that question,” he said, looking around at Sian for support.
Sian just rolled her eyes as Alex added, “I resent the implication of a dinner with friends requiring predrinks.” Rhod just gave him a wildly exasperated look and Alex laughed. “Fair play.”
He and Sian disappeared into the kitchen, assumedly to uncork the first bottle of wine, and Greg glanced at Rhod, softening, just slightly. “It means a lot,” he said. “That you’re trying.”
Rhod stiffened, almost as if to instinctively deny it, before shrugging and scrubbing a hand across his mouth. “That obvious?” he asked, somewhat wryly. “Well, the invitation means a lot. Given, y’know.”
“That’s because you’ve never had Alex’s cooking,” Greg said with a grin. He gestured for Rhod to lead the way to the kitchen, though neither man had barely set foot inside before Sian looked up at Rhod expectantly.
“Rhod, love, where’s the aubergines?”
Rhod blinked. “The what?” he asked blankly.
“The aubergines,” Sian repeated in what she clearly thought was a helpful way. “The ones Alex asked us to bring.”
Rhod looked over at Alex, his eyes narrowing. “Why in the bleeding fuck—”
“They’re good for you,” Alex said quickly. “For cancer, I mean. I mean, they’re not good for cancer, so to speak, but they’ve – it’s, er, antioxidants.”
Evidently Rhod wasn’t the only one who was nervous, and Greg frowned at Alex. “Ok,” Rhod said skeptically. “But I didn’t realise when coming to a dinner party, we were required to bring the dinner portion.”
“Just a side dish, really,” Alex told him, assured him more like, the very edges of his own comedy persona beginning to show, and Greg’s frown deepened.
Rhod arched an eyebrow. “And what’s the main course, then?”
Alex took a deep breath and Greg prepared himself to interrupt. But then Alex just gave Rhod a look as he told him sourly, “Well, at this point I figure, sod it, let’s just do a buffet of carcinogens, shall we?”
Greg immediately howled a laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth when Rhod swiveled to glare at him, clearly affronted. A moment later, he was laughing, too, somewhat ruefully, while Sian just shook her head, pouring a glass of wine. “Yeah, all right,” Rhod said. “But seriously, we were meant to bring aubergines, and you were planning on cooking them, have I got that right?”
“Not me so much,” Alex said, sounding more relaxed than before. “I’m not a great cook. But Greg, um—” He shot a look at Greg. “Well, he was going to make something.”
He finished a little weakly, assumedly because he’d realised that he had neglected to tell Greg about this. “For what it’s worth, I know nothing about the aubergines,” Greg said mildly. “Or the meal, for that matter.”
Alex gave him a baleful look, clearly having expected Greg to bail him out of this one. “It’s alright, we can just—” he started, at the same time Greg hurried to add, “I mean, I won’t say no to a cheeky takeaway if that’s—” while Rhod, three steps behind in the conversation, continued incredulously, “Pissing aubergines—”
“No, it’s fine,” Sian interrupted with a sort of forced cheeriness, and all three men fell silent. “Alex and Rhod can just nip down to the shops and pick some up. Can’t they.”
She didn’t pitch the last part like anything remotely resembling a question. In fact, if anything, it sounded quite a bit like a threat. Aimed almost certainly at Rhod, who seemed to wilt somewhat as he looked at her. “Must we?” he said, slightly pleadingly. “Can’t say that I disagree with Greg about a takeaway—”
“Shops,” Sian said firmly. “And pick up another bottle of wine while you’re at it, love. Greg and I’ll work on this one while you’re gone.”
Rhod and Alex just looked at each other for a moment before Rhod threw his hands up and nodded towards the door, slumping out with none of the same energy he’d practically bounded into the house with. Alex shot Greg a pleading look of his own, but didn’t voice a protest as he followed Rhod out, stopping only to grab his car keys from the hook in the hall.
Greg snorted and gave Sian a look. “Subtle, Sian.”
She just shrugged. “You used to fuck my husband,” she said sweetly. “I think we’re past subtle.”
Greg’s mouth went dry, and he suddenly couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “Well, not so much once he was your husband,” he muttered.
“Mmm,” Sian hummed, her tone completely neutral. She took a sip of wine before adding, “Besides, I figure this’ll give Rhod the time he needs to work up to an apology.”
Greg’s eyes snapped back to hers. “I told him he didn’t need—” he started hotly, but she just shook her head.
“I know, but he wants to.” Sian paused before saying, almost tentatively, “I do think he was trying to be protective. In his own way.”
Greg pulled a face. “In his deluded, self-aggrandising, determined to make every situation infinitely worse for his own twisted amusement way?”
She laughed lightly. “Precisely.”
But Greg wasn’t quite as amused. “And given that, you thought setting him on Alex was a good idea because…?”
He trailed pointedly off, but Sian didn’t look bothered. “Because it gives you and I a chance to chat,” she told him, “and I think Rhod’s done as much damage as he’s liable to do at this point.”
Now Greg did manage a short laugh. “Good thing he’s not here, he’d take that as a challenge.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sian said with a laugh, grabbing the bottle of wine and leading him into the living room. “Come on, come sit by me. Let’s pour you a glass of wine.”
Greg sat down next to her, holding his glass out automatically, even as he groused, “And now you want to get me liquored up to boot?”
Sian just gave him a look. “I don’t see you protesting. And I hate drinking alone.” She clinked her glass against Greg’s before saying, “Thank you for the invitation, by the way.”
“That was all Alex,” Greg told her, taking a sip of wine. “Says he doesn't like the idea of being, and I quote, ‘the source of unresolved tension’ between me and Rhod.”
Sian raised both eyebrows as she also took a sip of wine. “Maybe I should've made you go with Rhod, had a little chat with Alex,” she said, “as someone who knows a little bit about being the source of unresolved tension between you and Rhod.”
Greg scowled. “There is no unresolved tension between me and Rhod.”
“Just resolved tension, then.”
Greg ignored her. “Besides, the only source of tension, resolved or otherwise, between me and Rhod was Rhod. And me, on rare occasion.” He cleared his throat, ready to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “Speaking of getting liquored up, did Rhod tell you? About when we went to the pub?”
Sian laughed. “When he thought you were going to kill him and instead you had a chat and then you both got piss drunk?”
Greg grinned. “In our defence, we weren’t planning on the latter.”
“Ah sure, that makes it alright, then,” Sian said, mock-serious.
“Exactly,” Greg said smugly. “So at the pub, I got my revenge to resolve any so-called lingering tension – I made him drink an espresso martini.”
Sian rolled her eyes affectionately at the mention of one of Rhod’s most beloathed drinks. “Yeah I know, because when he got home, piss fucking drunk, the very first thing he said to me was, ‘Look, Sian, I haven’t shat myself’.”
Greg clapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Christ,” he managed to choke out between wheezes.
Sian was laughing as well. “And what’s better is,” she told Greg, wiping tears from her eyes, “I don’t know if I’ve ever been more proud of him.”
They both dissolved into laughter, and it took a few moments for them to recover. Sian wiped her eyes again as she glanced around Greg’s living room, still grinning. “You know, looking around here, you’d never know.”
“Never know what?” Greg asked, still giggling to himself.
“That you’re with someone.” Almost as quickly as it started, Greg’s laughter disappeared. Despite how casually she said it, this had to be the crux of why Sian wanted to talk to him alone. “Does he even have a drawer? Tell me you’re not forcing that man to live out of a bag.”
Greg rolled his eyes affectionately. “He’s got his own house, you realise,” he reminded her.
Sian just hummed an agreement as she took another sip of wine. “He’s got his own family.”
Whatever remnants of mirth had remained were long gone. “And you don’t approve.”
Sian gave him a look. “Now why would I, of all people, not approve of you being with a married man?”
Greg’s heart plummeted. “That was—”
As if sensing she’d gone a step too far, Sian reached out to gently touch Greg’s arm. “Relax, love. I’m only taking the piss,” she assured him, hesitating before adding, “Though I am interested to know since when you give a toss about my approval.”
“I don’t,” Greg said, lying through his teeth.
Sian didn’t look like she believed him, but mercifully, she dropped it. “Can I ask – this is an odd question, and you can tell me to fuck off if you’d like, I don’t mind— What’s different this time?”
Greg frowned. “Sorry?”
“I’m assuming it started as an affair.”
She didn’t say the word ‘again’ out loud but Greg felt it hanging there, and couldn’t let it go unaddressed. “Where you’re wrong is in thinking Rhod and I started as an affair,” he said, leaning back against the couch, trying to consciously keep his body language from giving into how defensive he felt. “Rhod and I started as friends who would occasionally fuck. Long before you were in the picture, for what little that’s worth.”
“It’s worth more than you think,” Sian said quietly.
Greg crossed his arms in front of his chest and shrugged. “By the time either of us even realised it was more than just fucking, well, that’s when he had already met you, and then things were so complicated…”
He trailed off, and Sian managed a smile that looked quite a bit more like a grimace. “Bit of an understatement,” she said. “And then Rhod decided the only way to uncomplicate it was to just blow things up a bit.”
Greg’s brow furrowed. “That’s certainly one way of characterising it.”
Sian gave him a searching look. “How would you put it?”
“He had a choice to make, he made it.”
Greg said it evenly, like stating the most basic fact in the world, because even after all this time, he didn’t have the words to otherwise describe what it had seemed like to him. And he didn’t think Sian would appreciate him getting into it here and now. But Sian just nodded slowly. “Without any input from either of us.”
“Either of us?” Greg repeated, before realisation hit. “I just always assumed it was you who asked him to choose.”
“Is that what he told you?” Sian asked, sounding surprised.
Greg jerked a shrug. “Insinuated, more like.”
Sian shook her head slowly. “That man,” she said with a sigh. “If I didn’t love him so much…”
“I know what you mean.”
Sian glanced down at her wine glass before sighing again and leaning forward to set it down on the coffee table and turning fully toward Greg. “Look, no one wants to be the other woman,” she said bracingly, before pausing and adding, “So to speak.” She gave Greg a look. “But I’ve always wanted him to be happy above all. It was him, who got in his own head. You know what he’s like. I don’t know if it was guilt or what, but he couldn’t get it out of his head, could he, whatever little voice was driving him mad.” She shrugged. “So I think in the end the only thing he could do to shut the voice up was make that choice.”
Greg's chest felt tight, and he reached out to squeeze her hand, just for a moment. “For what it’s worth, I think he made the right one.”
“So do I,” Sian said simply. “And not just because you two were awful for each other.”
Greg gaped at her, offended. “What?”
“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “You brought out the worst in each other. Everything that makes you two such cracking friends is what made you shite in anything resembling a relationship.”
“You’re probably not wrong,” Greg said, a little grudgingly, after briefly considering the veritable mountain of evidence that only proved her point.
“The way you’d egg each other on?” Sian pressed. “Drive each other mad when you had a bit from your set that wasn’t working? Stay up til all hours of the night drinking and God only knows what else?”
Greg couldn’t quite stop his smile at the memory of all the times they’d done just that. “Yeah, well, we’re both too old for that now.”
Sian laughed. “Tell me about it. Took him four days to recover after your last little pub trip. And then he went and fell asleep immediately after tea the other night.” Her tone was fond. “Just sitting on the couch having a cuddle while watching telly, and I look over and he is full on, head back snoring.”
Greg laughed. “Just as long as you weren’t watching Taskmaster.”
“Love, Rhod never saw an episode before he went on and he’s not watched one since.”
Greg knew as much, of course, but he couldn’t help but sniff, “Supportive bastard, isn’t he.”
Sian gave him a shrewd look. “And you watched every episode of every show he hosted, did you?”
“Fair play,” Greg said, with a chuckle.
“Besides, it’s for the best,” Sian told him. “You know he’d be texting you with every joke that didn’t fully land. Not to mention every time you look at Alex or make some joke at Alex’s expense.”
Greg barked a laugh. “He really is an insufferable prick, isn’t he.”
“Mine or yours?”
“Yours,” Greg said. “Mine’s insufferable, just not a prick.”
And thankfully for all involved, Greg happened to love insufferability. Judging by the soft sort of smile Sian had, she was thinking the same thing. She took another sip of wine before saying, “Speaking of yours, you haven’t answered my question yet.”
Greg frowned. “What’s that?”
“What’s different this time.” Sian gave him an appraising look. “Other than having someone who clearly is more capable of talking out loud about his feelings.”
Well, that certainly had helped matters, but Greg just shook his head slowly, looking for an answer that was honest without giving too much away. Not that he didn’t trust Sian, because he did, with his whole life. But because it was only half his to tell. “It’s different because it’s Alex,” he said finally. “I know that’s a cop out of an answer, but it’s true. It’s just…it’s who he is.” He reached for his glass of wine but didn’t drink, just holding it between his two hands. “I came to him one time after one of those brutal openings on Taskmaster where just nothing he said landed well, and I was like, mate you’ve got to tell me if I’m going too far, I was genuinely irritated and I didn’t mean to take it out on you, and he was like, no it was great. I love when you get grumpy. You’re funnier with the contestants when you’re grumpy with me.” He couldn’t have stopped his smile if he tried. “And I just sort of looked at him, at all the times he played off of me without us ever needing to discuss it, and I just knew. Knew that he fit perfectly.”
There was more to it than just that, and if anything, he was doing Alex a disservice by that description, but it wasn’t wholly inaccurate either. Greg paused before adding, with just a hint of conspiracy, like he was sharing a secret, “And I knew that I wanted to shag him. Quite badly.”
Sian laughed and Greg managed a smile, feeling on slightly more even footing. “Took us ages to actually do something about it, of course, because, well…”
“Because of the whole affair thing?” Sian supplied.
Greg nodded. “Despite what you may think, I do try to learn from my mistakes. But then we were at an end of series party and his wife and kids were out of town visiting her parents, so I told him to just come crash at mine, that he could kip on the sofa…”
Again he trailed off, and Sian nodded slowly. “And he didn’t sleep on the sofa, did he,” she said, not pitching it as a question.
“No, he didn’t,” Greg said softly. “And of course the next morning I told him that it was stupid, that I knew it could only be one time, that I wouldn’t tell anyone, the whole bit. And he was just like, ok.” He shook his head, remembering his exasperation at the time. “It was maddening. Just nonchalant, like, ‘See you at the studio’. Then a few weeks later we were meeting up to do some press and all calm and matter of fact, he was like, I talked to Rachel. We’re good. And I was like, what do you mean, we’re good? And he’s like, we can carry on. If you’d like.”
Which of course Greg very much had, but he figured Sian didn’t need him to say that out loud. “So she’s known the whole time,” Sian said, sounding almost surprised by that.
It wasn’t quite as simple as that, not by any stretch, but that was definitely not his story to tell, so Greg settled for nodding. “Yeah.”
“And that’s also where things differed,” Sian said, leaning forward to pour herself another glass of wine.
Greg looked sharply at her. “You knew.”
Sian settled back against the couch. “I did, but only because you two idiots were the most wretchedly obvious about it. Couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, could you.” She shrugged and took a sip of wine. “But Rhod didn’t want me to know. And he certainly didn’t come talk to me about it until he more or less had to.”
Greg wasn’t much one for regrets, or for rehashing the same set of events as if it might somehow change the mistakes that had been made, but it always seemed to circle back to this, didn’t it? And even though it wasn’t the same by any stretch, he could understand why Sian was hung up on this point. “He didn’t want me to know how serious things were with you for a long time either,” he told her.
She half-smiled. “He didn’t want to hurt us, in his own way.”
“Or he’s the most selfish knob who wanted to have both things going for as long as he could,” Greg said, a little sourly.
Sian frowned at him. “You don’t actually believe that.”
“That he’s a selfish knob?”
She shook her head. “That he strung either of us along for a lark.”
There was something sharp in her voice, a rebuke, perhaps, and rightly so. Greg understood exactly why Rhod had done what he had, better than the man himself if their conversation in the pub was anything to go by, and stringing them along had nothing to do with it. “No, I don’t,” he said quietly.
A long and not entirely comfortable silence stretched between them, and Greg refilled his own wine glass just to have something to do with his hands. They were moving quite quickly through the bottle, and he opened his mouth to mention as such to Sian, to crack a joke and break the tension, but before he could manage it, she asked, abruptly, “So how does it work?” Greg blinked and she elaborated, “With Alex, I mean. He's got a wife, kids, an award-winning television show, a comedy group of his own, and assumedly he has to write new material at some point in there. And then he's got time to squeeze you in, as well, has he?”
That was more or less accurate. Alex wasn’t called the busiest man in comedy for nothing. Greg just shrugged. “He's got more time now than he used to since he doesn't have to be involved in every facet of Taskmaster anymore,” he pointed out. “So he has more time to spend with his family and such.”
“But not with you.”
She sounded more curious than anything, but still Greg’s hackles immediately went up. “Sian, I love you dearly, and I wouldn't dare be as rude to you as I was willing to be with Rhod, but why does this feel like a repeat of whatever Rhod was trying to get at with Alex?”
Sian didn’t look remotely abashed by the comparison. “I mean, we can both agree that Rhod didn't exactly come at it from the right angle.”
Greg snorted. “Understatement of the century, that.”
“Doesn't mean he was fully wrong, though.” Sian didn’t let him get a word out in defence of Alex or otherwise, just leaning forward, something almost troubled in her expression. “I'm serious, how often do you get to see Alex?”
“Depends entirely on his schedule,” Greg said, equally serious. “And on mine. I'm not sitting around waiting for him to come see me, if that's what you think. I'm quite a busy man as well. And I try to visit my mum fairly regularly, and even the prick that you call husband.” He shook his head. “Alex and I don't need to spend every waking minute together.”
“And that doesn't mean that you don't want to,” Sian said quietly.
Greg frowned, giving her his best teacher glare, the kind that said he was waiting for her to get to the bloody point. “What’re you getting at, Sian?”
Sian took a deep breath, and Greg was suddenly reminded that for as well as Rhod knew him, Sian knew him just as well. Better, in some ways, having written a fictionalised version of him. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she had to say.
It was too late to stop her, though, and Greg looked away as Sian told him, her voice quiet but even, “Just this. You're a big man, and you've gotten very used to people asking you to make yourself smaller so that you fit better. And I do worry that sometimes you forget that you're allowed to take up as much space as you want, in a relationship or otherwise. That you're allowed to want more.”
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
Greg said it on instinct alone, immediately defensive and dismissive in equal measure, and Sian just gave him an exasperated look before pursing her lips slightly and saying, “Fine, then answer this for me: Why didn't you try to fight for him?”
It took Greg a moment to realise who she was asking about, but he really should have guessed. So much with him and Sian circled back to Rhod fucking Gilbert, like the coda of an unending conversation they’d been having for the past decade and then some. “For Rhod?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't know,” Greg said tiredly. “Probably because it would've made everything harder, wouldn't it have? It was easier to just let him go.”
Sian nodded like that was the answer she’d expected. “Easier for you, or easier for him?”
“Easier for you most of all,” Greg said, sharper than he intended. “I mean, do you wish that I had?”
“No,” Sian said, her voice quiet. “I think not fighting for him was the kindest thing you've ever done for me. Mainly cos I'm not sure I would've won, had it come to it. But this isn't about me and Rhod, or even you and Rhod. It’s about you, and whether you feel like you even deserve to fight in the first place.” Greg shook his head but Sian didn’t let him interrupt. “If things go tits up with Alex, will you fight for him? Or will you just let him go?”
“That would be completely different than—” Greg broke off, breathing heavily, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. He wasn’t willing to go down that path, not even with himself. “And besides, this isn't any of your business. Or Rhod's, since I know every word of this conversation is going to get repeated to him.”
Sian shook her head. “It's not. Rhod's punishment for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, no matter his intentions, is to never hear a word of this.”
Greg just pulled a face. “I don't believe you, but even still.”
Silence fell again, stony and awkward, and Sian sighed, looking down at her hands. “I've overstepped. I'm sorry.” She glanced up at Greg. “Though I did say you could tell me to fuck off.”
She said it gently, jokingly, her attempt at offering a truce, and Greg knew that. But he wasn’t ready to agree to it – not yet. “I know.”
“I just don't want to see you get hurt,” Sian told him. “Nor does Rhod, for that matter, even if his motivations are a little...well, you know.”
“Warped, like his mind?” Greg supplied, pitching like a joke, even if there was nothing funny about the situation.
Sian managed a small smile. “Exactly.”
Ignoring the fact that he was an adult who could make his own choices, Greg was insulted at the insinuation that he was somehow too stupid to realise he could get hurt by all of this. “But you know as well as I do that even having the perfect relationship doesn't guarantee you won't get hurt,” he said. “Life has a way of getting other ideas. People get cancer, or otherwise get sick, relationships end – hell, sometimes all it takes is a bellend spouse that insists on dragging the past up at the worst possible time.”
“There is that,” Sian said softly.
Greg’s stomach twisted with guilt at her tone. Even if he didn’t appreciate being treated like a child, he knew Sian meant well. Knew that she was concerned, because she loved him.
Just as Rhod did, and Greg hadn’t reacted well to that either, had he.
And Greg loved them, but far more importantly, he loved Alex, and even if she wouldn’t believe him, he wanted to make that perfectly clear. “I don't know if I'd be willing to fight for Alex if it came to it,” he said honestly, because he didn’t, not if it meant hurting Rachel, or the kids, in the process. “I don't even know that Taskmaster will get picked up for more series, so this could all have an end date.” Not that he thought he and Alex were only together because of the show, but it certainly helped.
Still, he leaned forward, hoping his sincerity would be apparent in every word as he told her, “But I know this: I would take every moment with Alex that I could. I could spend every minute together and never get tired of him, or bored – or want to kill him, which is more than some had going for them.” He didn’t have to specify who – and judging by Sian’s somewhat watery smile, she knew. “But I don't need to spend every minute together. I'm not settling for the little bits of him that I do get. I am genuinely happy with our life together. We have figured out something that works for me, for him, and for his family. And I will fight for that for as long as it's what we both want.”
He paused, letting that sink in, before adding, “And I’ll be honest, Sian, I expected if anyone would understand even a little bit of that, it’d be you and Rhod.”
Because they were some of his oldest friends, but also because they had lived it with him. They had been through it, and if anyone could understand why or how it was different—
“You have every right to be pissed at us,” Sian said quietly. “But you’re right – we’re probably the ones who will understand the most. So if we’re asking questions like this, you and Alex better prepare yourselves for when you start telling more people.”
“I think that plan’s on pause.”
Something twisted in Sian’s expression, something Greg had never seen. “Fine, then before you engineer a very pointed conversation at someone’s bedside, knowing full well he’d overhear.” Greg’s mouth went dry as Sian just looked flatly at him, her mouth a thin, hard line. “You can be pissed at Rhod for dragging up the past, but you’re the one who started it, not him.”
Greg swallowed, tearing his eyes away. “Is that what he thinks?” he asked, a little roughly.
“No. It’s never even occurred to him that that phone call was a bit too much of a coincidence.” She shook her head before draining her glass of wine and telling him, her voice a little hoarse, “ But I knew, as soon as he told me.”
“I didn’t—” Greg didn’t even know what he planned on saying. He couldn’t deny it, that much was clear, and what little explanation he could offer would undoubtedly not be enough. “I wanted him to know, because I thought…well, you know what I thought. But I didn’t know how to tell him.” He winced, because the logic that had seemed so sound at the time now just sounded – well, pathetic. “So I thought it’d be easier to let him overhear and draw his own conclusions.”
She nodded, clearly not surprised. “Which he did. And then you got angry with him for drawing the wrong conclusions.”
His eyes flashed to hers. “No, I got angry with him for not having the balls to have it out with me first, instead of going straight to Alex about it.”
Sian just raised her eyebrows. “So you got mad at Rhod for acting…like Rhod.”
Well, when she put it like that… “I’ll admit it wasn’t a great plan,” Greg said, and Sian laughed, a genuine, bright laugh that had Greg smiling, just a little, despite everything – or perhaps because of everything.
“You two really are more similar than either of you would ever admit,” Sian told him.
Greg just pulled a face. “Does that mean it’s my turn to apologise to him?” he asked, somewhat grudgingly.
Sian’s smile faded, just slightly. “You already did.”
“But that was for—”
“I know,” Sian said. “But it won’t help anything to drag it all up again. Not now when you’re finally getting past it all.” She paused. “When we’re finally getting past it all.” She took a deep breath before adding quietly, “Please.”
For as much as Greg had been prepared to kill Rhod with his bare hands for interfering with him and Alex, it had never even occurred how this whole thing, and his own role in it, might’ve stirred things up for Rhod and Sian, and his stomach twisted again. “I won’t,” he promised.
Sian gave him a small, tight smile. “Thank you.” She hesitated before adding, “And one kindness deserves another, so I’ll just say this: my approval means fuck all, but I am happy that you have found something that works for you, and I truly wish you, and Alex, nothing but love and happiness from here on out. You deserve nothing less.”
Greg set his empty wine glass down and reached out to draw her close, hugging her tightly. “That’s all I want for you and Rhod as well,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “All I’ve ever wanted.”
She squeezed him tightly for a moment. “I know.” She let go, unshed tears shining in her eyes, and cleared her throat. “Speaking of Rhod—”
“They’ve been gone a long time, haven’t they?” Greg supplied, realising for the first time just how long they’d been talking, with no sign of their respective partners.
Sian let out a long-suffering sigh. “I rather suspect we won’t be having aubergines for dinner.”
“Think that was a lost cause from the get,” Greg told her, unfolding himself from the couch and bending to pick up both their wine glasses. “But at least there’s more wine.”
Sian laughed again. “Thank God for that.”
The second bottle of wine was half-gone by the time Alex and Rhod finally returned, not a single Tesco bag in sight, just a load of what looked like—
“Look, we tried,” Rhod said, setting one of the bags on the counter, “but we decided we all deserved a takeaway, didn’t we.”
Alex nodded, starting to unpack the bags, and Greg practically drooled as the smell of curry wafted through the kitchen. “But we did manage to get some Baingan Bharta,” he told Greg and Sian earnestly, “which is aubergine-based, for Rhod. So technically—”
Greg just laughed and leaned in to kiss Alex’s temple. “5 points, my love,” he told him, his voice low. “Now let’s eat, I’m starved.”
Dinner was so normal in comparison to everything that preceded it that Greg almost felt like it’d all been some kind of fever dream. Well, normal for them at least, which meant a high-strung affair with lots of joking and laughter, Rhod recounting a story of a squeaky-wheeled shopping trolley at the Tesco that had Alex honking with laughter and Greg wiping tears from his cheeks.
There was no dessert save for more wine, which was fine with Greg. He pulled Alex’s chair closer to his own so that he could put a contented arm around Alex’s shoulders, and Alex just glanced at him, almost as if surprised by the sign of open affection. But Sian smiled at him, reaching for Rhod’s hand.
Rhod, for his part, took her hand, raising it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles without even breaking stride in his story, and Greg’s smile widened.
It looked like they’d all made the right choice at one time or another, to end up here, like this.
Eventually, the final bottle of wine was finished, and Rhod leaned forward, something mischievous gleaming in his eyes. “Think I might have an idea for a new BBC documentary,” he said.
Greg groaned. “Christ, twice wasn’t enough?”
“I’ll have you know, the Stand Up to Cancer one was for Channel 4,” Rhod said, “which you of all people should know.”
“Yeah, fair play.”
“So what I was thinking is Rhod Gilbert stands up to outdated notions of sexuality,” Rhod said, something smug in his tone as he glanced between and Greg and Alex. “Have you two on as guests.”
“You’d have to work on the name,” Greg said flatly, not willing to give Rhod the satisfaction of taking the bait, at the same time Alex took a deep breath and said, almost cheerfully, “Get fucked, Rhod.”
Rhod grinned. “Oh ho ho, we do love a role reversal.”
Sian rolled her eyes and stood, tugging on Rhod’s arm. “I think that’s our cue,” she said dryly. “Come on, love, let’s go home.”
“You’re not driving, are you?” Alex asked.
She shook her head. “No, but I think we’ll walk for a bit before getting a cab.” She glanced up at Rhod. “The fresh air’ll do us both some good.”
“Speak for yourself,” Rhod grumbled. “I’ve had plenty of fresh air tonight.”
“If you don’t want to make out in public like two teenagers—”
“Now hang on,” Rhod said quickly, “didn’t say that, did I.”
Sian just laughed, crossing to give Greg a hug. “Thanks for everything,” she told him, lowering her voice to add, “And I do mean everything.”
Greg kissed her cheek. “Anytime,” he murmured.
Rhod hesitated before giving Alex a brief, slightly stilted hug. “Didn’t even try to get you out of your trousers this time,” he said with a sigh.
“Always next time, Rhod,” Alex told him, laughing lightly, before turning to Sian. “Sian, always a pleasure—”
He broke off as Sian darted forward to give him a hug of her own, kissing his cheek as she told him, “Take care of Greg, love.”
“Hands where I can see ‘em, mate,” Rhod growled, though he laughed as Greg pulled him into an embrace that was half hug, half headlock.
“Could tell your wife the same thing,” Greg told him, kissing the top of Rhod’s head because he knew he hated it. “Now get the fuck out of here so we can shag.”
Rhod shuddered and pulled away. “Christ, you don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, waving once over his shoulder as he left, closing the door after him with a snap.
For one long moment, Alex and Greg just looked at each other, then Greg opened his arms and Alex crossed over to him, wrapping his arms around Greg’s waist and nestling against his chest as Greg wrapped his arms around him. “So that was—”
Alex nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But it was good.”
“Was it?” Greg said, a little skeptically.
Alex considered it for a moment. “Better than it could have been,” he allowed.
Greg just laughed lightly, kissing Alex’s forehead. “C’mon,” he said, pulling back just far enough to take Alex’s hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
“But the dishes—”
“Fuck the dishes,” Greg said dismissively. “We’ll deal with that tomorrow.”
As they headed to the bedroom, Greg glanced at Alex. “How was the shopping? Other than unsuccessful.”
Alex’s smile was fond, and he shook his head. “To be fair, we mutually agreed to abandon the shopping,” he said. “But prior to that…” He trailed off and shook his head again, his eyes wide. “I imagine that’s what it’d be like to go shopping with a chimpanzee on cocaine.”
Greg barked a laugh. “What’s sad is I know exactly what you mean.”
Alex’s smile faded slightly as he sat down on the bed and looked up at Greg. “What about you?” he asked. “How was your chat with Sian?”
“It was—” Greg broke off, a frown knitting his brow. “Hang on,” he said, crossing to the wardrobe and opening it with a flourish. “Rhodri, I swear to fucking—”
But it wasn’t Rhod crouching in the wardrobe and giggling like a maniac, and Greg’s mouth actually fell open when he saw Sian. “You!” he half-bellowed. “I expect better of you, Sian!”
“You probably shouldn’t,” Sian told him, still giggling. “I am married to Rhod, after all.”
“And what a fucking pair you make,” Greg said sourly. “C’mon, let’s go.”
He practically frogmarched her to the door, ignoring as she called, “Bye, love!” over her shoulder to Alex, who just waved, clearly amused.
“Now,” Greg said sternly when they reached the door, “are there any more surprises from you or your husband?”
But Sian just hugged him, something too soft and genuine in the hug to be anything other than sincere. “I see now why he hasn’t got a drawer,” she told him. “He’s got half a wardrobe.”
“He’s got more than that,” Greg told her.
Sian beamed at him. “Yeah, he has, hasn’t he,” she said, patting Greg in the centre of his chest. “And I am so happy he does.”
“Good night, Sian.”
Greg watched her leave with narrowed eyes, not relaxing until she saw her join Rhod at the end of the hall. Rhod glanced over and gave him the finger, and Greg’s face split into a grin. He stuck his tongue out before finally closing the door.
He leaned against the door for just a moment, reflecting on how strange the evening had been. Certainly not the way he’d expected it to go, by any stretch.
But at the same time, Alex was right – it had gone better than it could’ve. In fact, Greg wasn’t sure how it could’ve gone better, given everything. All of the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place, and somehow, they had all fit.
Just like Alex fit.
“Greg?” Alex called, and Greg shook his head as if to clear it.
“Coming,” he said.
He finally had everything he had ever wanted, and he wasn’t going to waste a minute of it.