Chapter Text
30 th of November – Afternoon.
Staring at his dusty, book-covered bedroom as he sat at his worktable, Gordon sighed. He was attempting to finish his essay about the consequences of a shareholder economy. It was only November, and it was snowing in Westminster. There was a slight chill in his room, and even though he was wearing his brother’s old sweater, he still felt it down his spine. Whilst many used their laptops, Gordon was still adamant about using pens, he justified it by reiterating that he was fully blind in one eye, but in reality. he just enjoyed gripping the pen and the feeling of it when pen reached paper. He was close to finishing, when he was interrupted by his roommate, Ed Balls.
“Prescott’s on the phone, something about a party.” he rolled his eyes and grinned as he passed the phone to Gordon.
“Afternoon John, anything important?” Gordon sighed into the phone.
“God Gordon, why are you so informal.” John replied, sounding slightly irked by Gordon’s politeness, having experienced both his anger and gloom.
“This is how I normally talk?”
“Right, anyway. I’m hosting a Christmas Party.” John spoke as if he was proposing a quite normal suggestion with overwhelming doubt.
“Okay?”
“Can you come Gordon?”
“John, It’s November.”
“Well!” he shouted, “It’s not anytime soon, it’s on December the 24th.”
“Aren’t people going to be spending that day with their family?”
“I thought so too, but considering that most of us live in the dorms and have terrible exam schedules in a few months, no one is leaving.”
“Not even Alastair?” Gordon retorted with shock, knowing how much Alastair hated staying in the confinements of university and would rather be at home chatting with Fiona, his sort of girlfriend, but also not really.
“Not even Alastair.”
Gordon groaned, of course although he wasn’t much of a Christmas enthusiast, he still had an annual tradition, with someone, however he hadn’t had a proper conversation with them for 5 months, so it was most likely off.
“Fine, I’ll come.”
John cheered as he ended the phone, exclaiming that he was going to convince Harriet and Anji to come as well.
Ed peeked in the room, pushing the door.
“Did you say yes?” he smiled at Gordon with some mischief.
Gordon, without looking Ed in the face, replied with a short yes.
The Christmas lover, Ed gasped and began to sing Last Christmas in Gordon’s ear. Gordon swatted him away, laughing with some fondness.
“Ed, do you know who’s coming?”
Ed stared at Gordon with some hesitance.
“Er, Ed M, Charlie, Sue.”
“And?”
“Peter, David B, David M and more people I've gone and forgotten.”
Ed seemed like he had more to say, and Gordon egged him on with a frown.
“And Tony...”
“Right.”
“Are you going to cancel?”
“No? Why would I?”
“Nothing.” Ed left dragging his feet along the floorboards.
Gordon chuckled to himself; his annual tradition had been confirmed cancelled. Great. Not like it would’ve happened on Gordon’s watch anyway. He really hated Christmas sometimes he thought, clicking his fingers in dismay. Leaving from his seat, he went into his living room to see Ed and Charlie Whelan, his other roommate, playing Mario Party on their unbelievably small TV.
“You going to the party, Gordon?” Charlie asked as he bit down into a chocolate digestive.
“Ye, he is.” Ed replied, both pair of eyes glued to the screen.
“Oi, was that your banana?” Charlie shouted.
“No, you idiot.” Ed groaned back, irritated.
“Not having your silly tradition this year?” Charlie looked at Gordon, laughing, he and Ed only knew Gordon went away for Christmas for a week, to “spend time with someone” who both his roommates assumed to be his friend, Sarah.
“No, we’re both busy this year.” He looked away, in slight frustration.
Ed punched Charlie in the arm, before giving Gordon a look of slight pity.
Gordon walked towards the door, grabbed his black trench coat, announcing he was going to go see Douglas at the cafe he worked at. He reached the door, pushed it to see Alastair sitting down with Peter, who was looking at him with annoyance. Peter who saw Gordon began staring and Alastair hadn’t noticed yet and was still talking.
“We all know he’s in love with him-”
“Who?” Gordon said as he walked up to Alastair and Peter’s table, giving Peter a disdainful look, they had been fighting often recently, and hadn’t spoke about it, but Gordon was still fine with Alastair. A few minutes passed as no one said anything. Alastair took it upon himself to respond whilst glaring at Peter, who had scoffed and turned away from Gordon.
“No one you know Gordon.”
Gordon chuckled as Alastair and Peter exchanged looks. He waved Alastair, goodbye and nodded at Peter. It was surprising to him that Peter and him were still holding each other at arm’s length. He supposed one’s closest friends could become nothing more than a nod. Turning towards the counter, Gordon greeted Douglas and ordered a bacon panini with brie and cranberry sauce.
“Party at John’s, you going?” Gordon asked, his voice lowering 2 pitches as he downed his latte in one go, ignoring the burning feeling on his tongue and down his throat.
“Ye, he asked yesterday, Tony’s going.” Douglas stared at the coffee grinder as he spoke to Gordon.
“I know.” Gordon replied, exhaling with slight exasperation, giving him a side-ways glance at the mention of Tony.
“Look, I know you and him aren’t doing well, especially after he won Captain of the Labour club at uni.”
“I would like to point out, I'm head of treasury and I dropped out of that race voluntarily.”
Douglas shrugged, “Just saying.”
Gordon finished his panini, said his goodbyes to Douglas and walked towards. It was the first day of December tomorrow. He glanced up at the sky, shivering as an early snowflake fell on his nose. Hoping he wouldn’t catch a cold; he strode off watching the sun as it set.
30 th of November – Evening.
Tony came out of the shower, a towel round his waist and his hair dripping with water. His roommates, Alastair and Anji were both out, presumably together with Peter or by themselves. He flopped onto his bed and reached for his phone, that was buzzing.
“Do you never check your messages?” Jonathan, his other friend was screaming down the phone.
“Oh, shut up, Jonathan, I’ve just got out of the shower.”
“Did you do your stupid 50-minute routine?” Jonathan questioned with impatience.
“It’s actually 56 minutes.”
“Check the fucking group chat!” He ended the call screaming whilst cutting himself out on the last few letters of the last word, Tony thankfully got the hint.
Tony opened up his phone and looked at his group chat with his friends, it was called, “Not Posh Twats.” A stupid name Jonathan had suggested. There had been almost 100 or 150 messages in the chat.
Bobby: JOHN, YOU INVITED GORDON.
John: Yes Peter? I would like to mention he is my friend.
Anji: YOU INVITED GORDON? Oh my god, did you invite Clare.
Ali: John, if you invited Clare.
John: No, I fucking hate Clare?
Tony stared at the messages and rolled his eyes, simultaneously contemplating on whether to reply saying Clare wasn’t that bad. He knew that would anger Alastair however, he had seen him constantly irritated with Peter for the last few days so unanimously decided against making it worse.
Bobby: BACK TO THE POINT, GORDON?
John: Well, we’ve gotten closer and I like him.
Ali: Don’t tell me you’re inviting his whole entourage.
DavidM: Does that mean Ed is going to be there?
John: Which one?
DavidM: MY BROWNITE BROTHER, ED MILIBAND.
John: GOD CALM DOWN THERE’S TWO EDS YOU TWAT.
Ali: If Whelan is there, I'm throwing hands.
Tony rolled his eyes as he began replying to everyone.
Tony: Oh, calm it all of you, it’s not a big deal, John has other friends.
Bobby: TONY, GORDON HATES ME.
Tony: He does not.
Anji: To be fair Tony, you haven’t had a proper conversation with Gordon since July, but Peter, Tony’s right, it’s more
likely Gordon hates Tony.
Tony: Eh.
Anji: Stop being so nonchalant about it, we all know you cry about it every day.
Bobby: True
Jonathan: True
Ali: True
John: True
DavidM: True.
Alistair: True
Bobby: Alistair, finally alive?
John: He’s just gone and left you on read
Bobby: Thanks a lot John.
Tony snickered as he looked at his phone. His friends were either the most serious people he had ever met, or the silliest. There was no in-between. His thoughts quickly turned to the party that John was hosting. During Christmas, he was busy with an annual tradition. He had only accepted John’s invite because he was sure that, considering his messages were just being partially overlooked by the other person, the tradition was not going to be happening, and that person was coming to the party. It wasn’t that he was put off by it. It was more so, this familiar emotion of feeling pathetic that irked him. He did have 24 days to get over it. He pushed his hair back with his hand, faced his mirror, sulked a bit, before pulling on a cashmere navy sweater that matched perfectly with his brushed-out hair and had been told complimented his eyes.
There was a clicking sound of the front door and Alastair strode into Tony’s room without warning.
“Are you okay?” He sat on Tony’s bed.
“Yes Alastair. Also, what’s up with you and Peter?” Tony asked, tensions between Alastair and Peter had been growing and as well as the two of them being his closest friends, he also hoped it wouldn’t affect the club.
“He’s been pissing me off, again. Obviously.” His jaw clenched in irritation.
“I’d rather you both not fight.”
“I’d rather you and Gordon stop pissing about, but we can’t get what we want.” Alastair refuted back eyeing Tony with disappointment and disagreement.
“Ali.” Tony shook his head and looked at Alastair grimly.
“Look Tony, you’ve got 24 days before the party, considering that we’re on holiday, you won’t be seeing him till then, are you really not going to make up?”
“It’s not me Ali.”
“Yes, that’s what they all say.” Alastair rolled his eyes.
“He just- He just doesn’t care. “Tony sighed.
Alastair gave Tony a mixed look of pity and irritation before replying,
“Cherie’s coming over with Fiona, by the way.”
Tony stared at him with displeasure, he enjoyed Cherie’s company and she was lovely, there was a point where he thought they would have got together, but when he and Cherie had gone on a date 2 months ago, he politely apologised and told her he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship yet. He ended up in a bar afterwards, chugging down pints of beer. Alastair’s phone began ringing, and he quickly left to go answer the phone, leaving Tony to himself who began putting on his coat, in order to not suffer Fiona’s stares and inquisitive looks. Calling out to Alastair, who glared at him, whilst still on the floor, he shouted his goodbyes. He began thinking to himself and shuddered with shame as he recalled the events from 2 months ago, as the door locked behind him.
-----
2 months ago – September.
“Another bottle of Stella Artois, please.” Tony lay his head on the wooden table, solemnly. He had just rejected one of the prettiest girls on his campus. He couldn’t even answer why he had. It was an inexplainable feeling, but Cherie, the girl he had asked out understood, split the bill and left him with a sweet smile. The bartender gave him a pitiful look before handing him another pint of beer.
“Sir,” He began to advise, “I think you should go home.”
Tony’s vision blurred as he began to stutter and grabbed the beer mug and chugged it down. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, pressing down hard on it.
“Tony.” A deep voice spoke, making Tony shudder. Only one person he knew had such a viscerally low voice. He fell out of his seat in disarray. He stumbled a bit and was held up by the slightly shorter but stronger young man.
“Gordon,” Tony replied, surprise emanating from his voice, “What, what are you doing here?”
Gordon held up his phone, without saying anything. 23 missed calls. 45 unread messages. God, Tony thought, what is wrong with me?
“How,” Tony managed to stutter, “How did you find me?”
“I have your location.” Gordon said, as if it was such a normal thing considering that they hadn’t had a proper conversation in many weeks.
“You do?”
“I took it one day, whilst you were drunk, you have a tendency to call me rather than someone like Alastair.”
“I must have called you by accident.” Tony looked down, his face most definitely turning red in shame and embarrassment, “You can leave, Gordon.”
As Tony said that, Gordon was paying his bill and taking his coat.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, another reason to feel obliged to Gordon.
“Look, I’ll pay you back, later.” Tony staggered towards Gordon, who grabbed his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder.
He said thank you to the bartender, and left walking with Tony leaning on him.
“I hate you, Tony.” Gordon said on that September night. Leaves had begun to fall, turning orange and crispy, and at 1am, the streetlights shone dimly. Gordon spoke to Tony with a weird sense of affection, it was mortifying.
“Gordon, I can stand.” He let go of Gordon’s arm and fell back. He was still somewhat drunk and knew that anything that came out of his mouth was going to be disgustingly vulnerable. Gordon looked behind at Tony and stared at him with a strange look. His cheeks were crimson with the cold alongside his ears and he shivered slightly.
“I want-” He stopped himself, sober enough to know what was going to come out was problematic, he himself didn’t know what his mouth was going to spout. Lies. The truth.
“What, Tony?”
"If you hate me Gordon, why did you come?”
Gordon turned away from him and replied quietly.
“I don’t know.”
Tony noticed a bench ahead of them.
“I want to sit down.”
“You need to go home Tony.”
“Fine, you can leave me be.” Tony was sober to an extent, enough to get home safely he guessed. He sat down on the bench, patting down his coat. Expecting to hear footsteps walking away, Tony was surprised when Gordon sat down, right next to him. Tony sighed.
“Gordon, you could at least try to talk to me, you could try to respect me.”
“I do respect you Tony, it’s much more complicated than that.”
“Do you really hate me?” Tony asked, ignoring the spike of self-pity in his voice. He looked Gordon in the eyes as he asked. Gordon opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. Then exhaled and spoke.
“No Tony, I don’t hate you.”
Tony looked at Gordon, refusing to let go of their eye contact.
“I had a date today.”
“I know.”
“With Cherie Booth-”
“No need to brag, Tony.” Gordon scoffed, breaking their intense moment. Tony knew most about Gordon, it was unsaid common knowledge that they knew everything and anything about each other. That meant Tony could recognise how Gordon felt, even from the tone of voice.
“You’re-” He spoke, almost laughing, “You’re mad, jealous even.”
Gordon looked at him with a dark anger, that it almost made Tony shudder.
“I’m not jealous, I simply do not care.” Gordon retorted; his voice was quiet.
Tony leaned in closer, next to Gordon’s ear and whispered.
“That’s a lie.”
“Fuck off, Tony.” Gordon’s ears turned into a shade of red, even though he was still frowning. He turned his face to look at Tony, who was staring at him intently, not letting anything but Gordon in his sights.
Tony was still drunk, undeniably. He knew he was. Anything that would happen right now would be a mistake and he could blame it on that. Tony glanced up and down from Gordon’s lips to his eyes. His hand raising to move away Gordon’s hair so he had better access to his brown eyes.
“Gordon.” He whispered.
“Tony.”
“I rejected Cherie.”
“Okay.”
Tony tilted towards Gordon, their lips only a few inches away from each other.
“I hope you know how much you’re going to hate yourself if you do this again, Tony.”
“Gordon,” He sighed, only needing and desiring Gordon’s thoughts on him, all just on him. “I think, I need you.”
Kissing Gordon felt like a star that had reached its end. Like explosions of familiarity, shame and intimacy mixed to create an indescribable feeling. It was like the sun was finally rising. Kissing Gordon made Tony feel like himself. It was a soft, small kiss, before it deepened. Gordon’s lips were smooth and tasted sweet, like a nice latte. He must have had one, Tony acknowledged. He kissed him again, until Gordon pulled back.
“Tony, I think you have problems.”
In reply to that, Tony just giggled, and kissed Gordon again. Gordon kissed him back. It was terrifying but as terrifying as it was, it was perfect. As if they were meant for each other. Tony pulled back, grinning.
“Admit it, I’m an amazing kisser.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, I’ve only ever kissed you when you’re drunk.”
Tony scoffed.
“And when I was asleep.”
Gordon looked at him with disbelief.
“You- you were awake?”
“Well, I heard you shuffle about.”
“Fuck.” Gordon swore under his breath.
“Gordon it’s fine - it’s what friends do.” Tony shrugged, indifferently.
It was astonishment on Gordon’s face now. He looked like he was contemplating whether he should say something or not. He turned away sharply, then turned back to face Tony.
“Sarah asked me on a date, Tony,” Gordon spoke, spluttering, “I said yes.”
Tony tried smiling at Gordon, but it ended up more like a frown.
“That’s lovely Gordon, she seems like a sweet girl, is it going to be soon?.”
“It’s fore-planned, but Tony this - we can’t keep doing it.”
“Doing what?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly to the side, pouting his lips, in attempts to feign innocence.
Gordon exhaled.
“What I mean, Tony.” He spoke softly into Tony’s ear, his deep voice a contrast to his tone. “Someone like Alastair is better suited for you, or Peter.”
“Gordon, we’re best friends.”
“Tony, we barely talk nowadays.”
Tony grimaced with irritation.
“Whose fault is that?”
Gordon gave Tony a weird stare, as if he was indulging in all of Tony but still refusing to step further in.
“Are you gay, Tony?”
“No.” Tony replied quickly, it wasn’t that he was against gay people. Peter was gay. Tony had only ever fallen for girls. He only ever kissed girls, with the exemption of Gordon.
“Are you gay, Gordon.” Tony asked, thinking he would gain a sharp no and a scolding from Gordon, instead he was met with a groan.
“Look, Tony. Remember when me and Peter fought that one time, and he spread those rumours.” He stopped talking, waiting for Tony’s reply. Tony gave Gordon a curious look with his brows furrowed.
“Yes, I remember, the rumours about you being gay, but you spoke to Peter and most of the, disappeared.”
Gordon sighed and met Tony’s eyes with a weird look in his eyes, he shivered in the autumn gust.
“I like girls, Tony.” Gordon exhaled out, watching as Tony’s face revealed small relief. He continued. “And I like boys.”
“Ah.” Tony accidentally let out, he felt like he was punched. The cold air like a slap against his cheek.
“Ah?” Gordon replied.
“No, I mean. How do I put it?” Tony began struggling with his words as he fiddled with his hands, looking down.
Gordon got up.
“Look, Tony, I think you’re sober enough to go home. I’m going to go, I’ve got an essay to hand in.”
As he left, Tony grabbed his hand.
“Wait, Gordon.” Tony stuttered, “I support you.”
Turning his head, Gordon smiled.
“I’d hope so, Tony.”
In that moment, the lights shone behind Gordon, his dark brown hair covering his face looked angelic, Tony pulled Gordon in and kissed him again. He hadn’t meant to.
He received a stare from Gordon as Tony spoke.
“Do you like Sarah?”
“Well, I’ll have to find out, won’t I?”
“Can you walk me home?” Tony asked pathetically.
And Gordon laughed.
“Of course, Tony.”
They didn’t hold hands as they walked. Tony asked Gordon how Economics was going. And Gordon gave him explicit details and even had the courtesy to ask Tony how his exam schedule was. Whilst his timetable was traumatic, it was nice talking to Gordon about it. Even if they both knew that when they woke up again, they would pretend it never happened. Gordon specifically stood one metre away from Tony, their dorms were on the same floors, and if anyone saw them together, there would be suspicions, and neither of them wanted that. Tony waved goodbye to Gordon, who gave him a nod and as Tony opened the door, Alastair was there waiting for him in their living room, reading a book.
“If you went out, you should have told me you had your key.”
“It’s fine, Gordon was with me.”
Alastair grumbled.
“Your relationship with Gordon is so fucking weird.”
“Yes, you’ve told me various times,” Tony quickly looked back at Alastair, before stepping into his room to grab a fresh pair of pjs, so he could go shower off his thoughts. He traced back his steps to speak to Alastair,
“You can’t-“ He began
“Yes, Yes, I can’t tell anyone, or your secret love life will be exposed.”
Tony sighed.
“Thanks Ali.”
“It’s fine, Tony.”
“And thanks for waiting for me.”
“Oh, piss off, I did not wait for you.”
“Yes, yes.”
He was proven right, when he heard a sudden click from across the landing as he opened the door to the bathroom.
He had kissed Gordon, again. Putting two fingers to his lips, Tony slumped down on the ground. Hoping that weeks later he would forget it ever happened.
-----
1st of December – Early morning, 1 AM.
Gordon heard a message from his phone, from the main Labour club chat. It was from Tony. Gordon grumbled as he rubbed his eyes in fatigue
Tony: @Gordon going to need you to send me your article today
Charlie: Is that not due next week.
Alastair: I thought that as well.
Tony: Something came up, Peter couldn’t do his.
EdB: Woah. Tony that’s not fair for Gordon.
Tony: He’s done it, haven’t you Gordon.
Staring at the message below, Gordon began typing with disbelief.
Gordon: I have.
Tony: Good, now would you mind sending it over.
As Gordon shuffled out of his bed to open his laptop, he heard his phone ringing. It was Charlie.
“Gordon, you let Tony walk over you like you’re a carpet!” He shouted.
“Charlie, it’s 2 am, I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.”
From across the dorm room. Gordon could hear Ed knocking on Charlie’s door telling him to be quiet.
“Look. It’s fine Charlie, I’m going to go to bed after I send this.”
“Fine, Goodnight, Gordon.”
“Night Charlie.
As he searched for the article, his phone buzzed again, he answered it immediately, thinking it was Charlie or Ed.
“Charlie, I’ll talk to Tony later- “
“Gordon.”
It was in fact not Charlie or Ed. Gordon felt a slight pang in his heart.
“Your voice is much more gruffy at this time.” Tony responded to the silence.
His silly remark made Gordon huff with irritation.
“It’s 2am Tony. Can we talk at a later time?”
“Yes, sorry, just wanted to apologise for the late notice.”
“It’s fine, good night.”
“Gordon I- “
“Tony, we’ve got to do this later.”
“Right sorry.”
The call ended only for Gordon to feel empty and desolate.
“This is absolute bullshit.” He muttered as he put his hand to his head. He hated, abhorred, detested how Tony made him feel.
His thoughts came back to 2 months ago, when he came out to Tony, who had kissed him, justifying it with that most friends did it, none of Gordon’s other friends kissed him like Tony did.
He had asked Alastair once if Tony had kissed him and Alastair, who was Tony’s closest friend looked at Gordon with utter disbelief, even Peter who was nearby, overheard and began questioning Gordon for what felt like an eternity. Of course, Gordon hadn’t let it slip. He blamed it on the fact that he was just curious, and there was nothing more to it. Both Alastair and Peter had exchanged looks but didn’t say anything to Gordon’s annoyance.
It wasn’t that Gordon felt uncomfortable from it, rather than that it provided him with a sense of security. It was a sweet feeling, Tony’s lips were usually chapped and tasted like caramel. He even initiated it sometimes, only when Tony slept over in his room, which he then supposed would be quite problematic. He shook his head, thinking that this was not the time for him to be reminiscing about odd kisses here and there with his best friend, who he couldn’t really call his best friend anymore. Sighing, he packed away laptop securely, crept around the papers on the ground and climbed into bed. His phone buzzed with a message.
Tony: really sorry Gordon :(
Gordon subtly grinned, trust Tony to use pitiful emoticons against Gordon to make him feel bad for being mean. However, Gordon refused to let his message display that and instead replied with.
Gordon: Night Tony.
He supposed he felt sort of bad about it. It was hard not to, considering how many attempts had been made to resolve whatever argument they had. Gordon exhaled in and out before pulling his cover up to his shoulders. It was weird with Tony. Everything. When they had met, Tony had sprung upon him with compliments and praises, saying that Gordon was like no one else, he was special, smart, spectacular. Things Gordon had been told, but not to the extent Tony had emphasised.
“Trust me to be overcome by the first man to praise me of all my expertise.” He chuckled before shutting his eyes, wondering whether he would be asked to clean up his room the next time he woke up and considered whether he should wear double socks to prevent getting the snow getting through to his feet, knowing the soles of his shoes were worn out. It was never going to be admitted to anyone not even to himself that when he shut his eyes recently, he would dream of nights with Tony. And in the morning, he would convince himself it never happened.
-----
1 st of December – Morning
Waking up wasn’t a struggle for Tony. He was what people referred to as an “early bird”. There was never a day where he looked terrible, eyebags under his eyes, dry lips. Never. Smiling at himself in the mirror, he flexed his somewhat non-existent muscles considering he was quite lanky and pulled on a brown shirt which was covered by a soft argyle sweater, one he had borrowed from Alastair. His hands crept towards his keys on the table as he slung on his bag on one of his shoulders before leaving and saying a goodbye to Anji, who was ultimately still asleep. As he was leaving, a familiar phone sound rang out through their hallways, as he peeked his head back in, realising he had forgotten his phone. He sighed, thanking God and whoever had texted him for helping him not forget his phone. Picking up his phone, he turned it on to see who the message was from. It was from. Oh god. Cherie. He swore under his breath.
Cherie: Hey Tony! John invited me to his party, are you going as well?
He contemplated leaving her on delivered till he was free again, but then thought about how sweet she was and how he would probably start dating her sometime soon, When the time came where he had finally got over this unbearable emptiness he felt. He began typing as he walked down the street to the gates.
Tony: I am! I can’t wait to see you there :)
Sighing, he turned off the phone before being distracted again by a voice.
“Tony,” David Miliband began saying as he put his hand on Tony’s shoulder and smiled, “Let me walk you to your building.”
“Great to see you David,” Tony grinned as he looked behind David to see a younger male with glasses and quite adorable hair.
He acknowledged Ed Miliband, who was David’s younger brother. They hadn’t really talked much but Gordon had mentioned him ever so often to Tony, that he knew a few things about him.
“Ed, you must tell me your hair routine, it looks absolutely stunning.” Tony remarked, giving Ed his winning smile.
Ed looked up through his long bangs, and looked slightly doubtful, he turned to David who gave him a stare. He then spoke, “Thanks Blair.”
“Tony.” David corrected.
Ed huffed.
“All my friends refer to him as Blair or even Anthony.” He said, pushing his glasses to his nose, and walking past both of them to meet Chalie Whelan and Yvette Cooper.
Unfortunately, Tony was left with his mouth wide open, as he and David watched Ed chuckle and wave at his two friends. David was glaring at Ed and Tony was just. In disbelief.
“They call me Anthony. Not even my own mother calls me Anthony.” He said pointing at himself, refusing to remember that Gordon called Tony, Anthony to either mock him or to show he was irritated.
David shook his head.
“Right, I’m sorry about that Tony, my Brownite brother’s got a bit of issues.”
He emphasised the word Brownite, making Whelan, Ed and Cooper all stop having their conversations to turn and face him with annoyed stares before returning to their topic and leaving Tony and David with each other as they walked towards their respective buildings. Tony considered that it was something silly to be worried about, walked off inside with David as they began talking about policy matters with their current government and how they were going to deal with William Hague, the leader of the Tory Club at their university. Their university held sort of annual “elections” where students from any subject could interact and join in the politics. It was a highly renowned simulation of what the real elections were like, and most students who were in social sciences or humanities wanted a grasp at it.
“Do they all know we’re dropping Clause IV, David?” Tony said as he went through some papers David handed to him.
“Er, yes?” He shrugged,” Isn’t that Peter and Gordon’s job?”
“They haven’t really been getting along recently.” Tony smiled at David.
They both shivered at the sudden cold. Most of the snow had melted, however there was some and it was forecasted that there would be much more. As Tony was pulling out of his gloves from his jacket, he noticed Peter was outside of the class they both shared. David had said his goodbyes before departing to wherever the PPE hallway was. Tony had only ever been in History and Modern Languages.
“Peter, you okay?” Tony asked, considering that Peter looked abnormally mad for someone who was usually smiling, whether it’d be real or not.
“Ye Whelan just passed and berated me for not doing my article.” He scowled, definitely a bit irritated.
Tony gave him a pat as they walked into their classroom.
“Well, we both know Gordon would’ve done his week prior so it’s fine.”
“I suppose so.”
Tony and Peter walked to the empty seats as their teacher walked in.
“Club at lunch today.” Peter said before their professor nodded at him to stop talking. As Tony began typing away at his laptop, looking to and from the projector in front of him, he thought of Gordon, who still used lined paper to take all his notes down and smiled.
-----
1 st of December – Lunch
It was common knowledge that Gordon’s eyesight was terrible . If he ever had to use a laptop, which in this case right now, he would be squinting and grunting in vexation. As Gordon was writing up a proposal about why the removal of Clause IV would do the party well, Peter walked in. He looked inside the room and straight at Gordon before waltzing right out, with his arms moving like a robot. Gordon could hear him sigh outside of the now opened club door. Gordon heard the same exact footsteps as Peter entered the room. Again.
“Hello Gordon.” Peter smiled, gritting his teeth together.
“Peter.” Gordon acknowledged without lifting his eyes from his laptop screen.
There was a sound of chair legs scrapping as Peter sat down, in front of Gordon, who raised his eyebrows in return. Gordon decided there really was no point in ignoring Peter, so he asked him something.
“Why didn’t you do your article?”
“Something came up.” Peter replied, glaring at Gordon before breaking their uncomfortable eye contact. To Gordon’s surprise, Peter continued the conversation.
“Are you coming to Prescott’s party?” He said, from his tone of voice, Gordon could tell he already knew the answer but was just asking for the sake of continuing the discussion.
“Yes.” He replied, he numbed his response down to one word. Peter opened his mouth to ask him something else but was interrupted by Charlie and Ed Miliband talking loudly as they entered the room. They greeted Gordon, and began including him in their conversation, leaving Peter to himself. Peter awkwardly shifted his eyes around the room, anywhere but Ed, Charlie and Gordon. There was a bit of sympathy that Gordon felt for Peter, but it was replaced by memories of their latest argument. About 5 minutes later, Alastair and Tony walked in followed by Harriet, Anji and Sue. John was last, always a bit late to these meetings.
The meeting began with them discussing Clause IV, how the economy would work and whether suggesting to join the Euro would be a good idea. From Gordon’s side of the room, there was a lot of glares and scowls towards Tony’s side, who were hesitant to the idea but not completely put off by the single currency suggestion. John, having been the vice-captain of the club was in the middle of all of it. Gordon more specifically was staring right into Tony’s eyes, Tony was hoping he did not visibly seem nervous, but he swore he could feel a droplet of sweat fall down the side of his head. As the meeting was coming to an end, Gordon exclaimed gruffly that he and Tony needed to talk alone and that everyone was to get out. Gordon watched Tony give Alastair and Peter a look before standing up and walking towards Gordon’s seat; he sat down. right next to him.
“What is it, Gordon?” Tony said, almost sounding irritated.
“Tony, if you say yes to the single currency. I’m not staying.”
For a moment, it seemed like Tony’s eyes brightened before suddenly dulling to surprise and disbelief. He shook his head.
“You can’t threaten me like this Gordon, I’m the captain.” His voice was raising at each word.
Gordon glared at Tony and scoffed. It wasn’t like this when they met, Gordon thought as he strode out of the room with a burning rage, he refused to let anyone, but his friends and Tony see.
-----
3 – 4 years ago.
“It’s lovely to meet you all.” Said the bright young man who was apparently a first year in Law. He had wavy brown hair and looked a bit mousy to Gordon, who was watching him with cautious but curious eyes. His eyes were blue, unsurprisingly for someone who seemed as charming as he was. But unlike everyone else, Gordon was unbothered, he watched as everyone fawned over him, he made a grim look watching John Smith and Neil Kinnock, two 3 rd years ask him why he decided to join the club, what made his hair look so good and other relevant/irrelevant things.
“He looks like a bloody lamb.” Gordon muttered under his breath. Only to then realise everyone was staring at him, the young man in question, giving him a soft smile. Neil took this as an opportunity to introduce them to each other, he pushed the man towards Gordon, who was sitting down with his legs and arms crossed.
“This is,” Neil began, nodding towards the man in question to let him continue.
“Anthony Blair but I’d rather you all call me Tony.” He said, smiling with all his teeth.
“Anthony, you say?” Gordon began.
“Tony.” The young man, who was revealed to be called “Anthony” corrected.
Gordon continued, smirking, “But your name is Anthony right.”
Neil sighed and looked to and from Tony and Gordon.
“It is,” Tony replied, his smile dimming, “But I prefer Tony.”
Gordon turned away and laughed before replying.
“And I prefer Anthony.”
Neil sighed and shook his head in disappointment whilst John began giggling behind him. Patting Tony’s back, he exclaimed that Tony would be staying with Gordon for the rest of the night, as Neil had a few more 1 st years to get through and talk to. Gordon glanced at him with disdain as Neil indicated Tony to sit right next to him.
They sat together, without conversation for a while. Tony’s legs close together with Gordon’s crossed in exasperation. Gordon contemplated just getting up and leaving before Tony spoke.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how we’ve already got off on the wrong foot, but I’d really like to be your friend.” He held up his right hand for Gordon to shake and gave him a doubtful smile. Gordon blinked a few times at Tony, before reluctantly returning the handshake. Sighing, he thought maybe he had come across as a bit aggressive.
“I may have come across a bit unapproachable.” He replied, turning away from Tony, in slight shame.
He suddenly felt warmth through his hands as he looked back to find Tony grasping at his fingers. His eyes shining, his smile was soft but had elements of interest and joy in it. He seemed like a real person,
“It’s fine,” He replied, “I’ve heard about you so often, Gordon, Am I allowed to call you that?” He asked as Gordon shook his head in approval.
“You’ve heard about me?”
“Yes!” He replied, excited. Letting go of Gordon’s hand, he scuffled a bit before saying the next bit and whispered.
“And… hair… nice…” He muttered, Gordon who was usually the one being told to be louder, leaned in close, inches away from Tony’s face, which was weirdly enough red.
“Do you remind repeating yourself?” Gordon asked, inches away from Tony’s face, Tony refused to look at Gordon and was narrowly avoiding his eye-line. He looked a bit flustered as he attempted to open his mouth and reply to Gordon.
“Your hair is lovely!” He shouted, a bit loudly, the people in the room began looking at them intently, John and Neil were whispering together, definitely laughing. Tony noticed the pairs of eyes on him and stumbled on his words, but thankfully for Gordon, whispered them.
“I meant, I’ve seen you around campus, and your hair looks perfect, I mean I try every day to make sure it looks perfect but yours. Yours is lovely.” He repeated, before sighing and returning to his original skin colour, the pink leaving his face.
Gordon, was in awe. Perhaps he was okay with this new, naïve and somewhat sweet 1 s t year. Gordon grunted a thank you, smoothed his hair, in attempts of covering his crimson ears. He pulled his tie, loosened it and looked at Tony. Weirdly enough, Tony was looking at him with great interest, it was unusual for Gordon to be praised like this he thought as Tony gratified him with compliments.
Gordon, was in awe. Perhaps he was okay with this new, naïve and somewhat sweet 1 st year. Gordon grunted a thank you and smoothed his hair, in attempts of covering his crimson ears. He pulled his tie, loosened it and looked at Tony. To his surprise, Tony was looking at him with great interest, it was unusual for Gordon to be praised like this he thought as Tony gratified him with compliments. He realised something, like a light bulb in his head and spoke.
“My name is Gordon, Gordon Brown.” He said, fiddling with his fingers.
Tony looked him in the eyes, like there was an unquenchable light in his eyes. And then. He laughed.
“I know.”
-----
1 st of December – Afternoon
The modern languages undergraduate strode into the Labour club room, and groaned. Alastair Campbell was tired. He slammed his suitcase onto the table as Peter Mandelson, his sort of friend who was working on something on his laptop, glanced up with confusion. More than he was tired, Alastair was irritated, specifically with the person sitting in front of him.
“Peter, you’ve fucked up.” He said, attempting to not shout, “Again.” His blood pressure was definitely rising and swore he was getting more wrinkles every day, even though he was one of the youngest of them all. Peter had the audacity to roll his eyes at Alastair.
“Me telling Kinnock about the Euro or me briefing Maddens (part of the broadcasting, journalist club that Alastair was still sort of a part of) about whether we think a stakeholder or shareholder economy is better.” He looked at Alastair, seemingly innocent, but of course Alastair knew what Peter was like.
“Oh, fuck off, Peter, you’re ruining what I’m setting up.”
“Get a life, Alastair, the the club doesn’t solely rely on you.”
Alastair laughed. He actually laughed. Peter glared at him; Alastair returned the same grim feeling by clenching his jaw. It was like a flicker of some odd sense of narcissism.
“You just want me gone, don’t you?” Peter bellowed, as he stood up.
Alastair frowned at him.
“Don’t piss me off Peter.”
Peter began to draw closer to Alastair. Alastair watched Peter’s eyes. It had that disgusting glint that implied he was going to say something they both never wanted to talk about.
“The obsession with Tony is worrying , Alastair.” Peter leaned forward, pouting slightly, a false look of pity on his face, “Wonder what would happen if everyone found out. If Fiona found out.”
It was sudden, happened in less than a minute. Alastair grabbed Peter’s shirt and pushed him back against the wall.
“Say one more thing and I’ll sock you in the face.” His teeth clashing together to make a terrible sound against Peter’s ears.
“Too bad Tony won’t let you suck him off.” Peter made a small pop sound with his mouth. Alastair lunged forward and punched Peter. Peter chuckled before leaning in to bring his arm to Alastair’s face. His nose was bleeding as Alastair pulled back in pain. Stalking towards him, Peter pulled Alastair up by his collar. “Cunt.”
To Peter’s dismay, Alastair swept his leg and made him stumble to the ground. He put one of his knees down to meet eye to eye with the now fallen Peter.
“You know Peter, I could say the same thing about you. You think I don’t know about Gordon?”
Peter’s eyes widened at the strange exclamation. He began stuttering and stood away from Alastair.
“Fuck off, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He brought his clenched hand close to Alastair’s face.
Alastair pulled him closer and whispered in his ear.
“Faggot.”
And that was it. They tousled around, swearing at each other, exchanging insults and secrets.
“I don’t like Tony!” Alastair screamed, as his hand was pulling Peter’s hair back.
“I don’t like Gordon!” Peter replied, as he backed into Alastair.
“Oh, don’t lie, everyone knows you like- “
The door opened.
“Likes who?”
Tony appeared from behind the mahogany door, followed by Gordon. Alastair and Peter both exc hanged quick looks before getting up and dusting themselves gone. Alastair had a black eye, and a bruise was growing along the side of his face. He had been cut by one of Peter’s nails and was bleeding on his forehead. In comparison, Peter was sporting a lovely purple bruise and his nose was bleeding. Tony looked at them with disdain as Gordon stared a bit, looking like he was contemplating whether he should leave or not.
Both the men, involved in their fight looked shameful. Gordon approached the both of them with tissues, first Alastair and then with Peter, took a tissue out of the packet, unfolded it and pressed it to Peter’s nose. He held it there for a good while softly, as both Alastair and Tony began to stare at him. After 5 -7 minutes, Peter held Gordon’s hand indicating that it was okay to let go. Gordon took the tissue off and walked towards the bin and left the room. Alastair was sitting on one of the chairs that been thrown around in the chaos and Tony was leaning against the table.
“Would either of you mind telling me what happened?” Tony asked, his arms crossed.
“None of your business, Tony.” Alastair replied, growling as he spoke. Peter nodded in agreement.
“I think me and Tony have a right to know.” Gordon said as he stalked back into the room, carrying two packets of ice. He handed one to Alastair and then pressed the other to Peter’s face.
Peter glared at him.
“It’s between me and Alastair.”
“Right right.” Tony began “And what’s that about you liking someone, Peter?”
It wasn’t long before Peter’s face grew red. He softly pushed away Gordon’s hand before picking up his bag and leaving the room.
“I’ll go after him.” Gordon said, surprisingly to both Tony and Alastair, considering that Peter and Gordon were fighting at the current moment. Tony attempted to speak before being interrupted by Gordon again.
“Tony, we’ll talk tomorrow, I’ve got to take care of Peter.” He left the room as he said that, leaving both Tony and Alastair alone. Tony glanced back at Alastair
“You going to tell me what happened?” Tony asked, fully knowing what the answer would be. He grabbed his bag that he had dropped onto the table. Alastair did the same, staring at Tony with his hand still holding the ice pack.
“No.”
-----
1 st of December – Night
Tony and Alastair took the bus home and reached home to find Anji standing in a strap top, her hair tied back wearing jogging bottoms.
“God, what happened to your face Alastair.” She went out of the room to find the medical kit that all three of them shared.
“Nothing much, just Peter.” Alastair replied as he put the ice packet down onto the table.
“All you both need to do is kiss and make out.”
“Fuck off Anji, I’m not even gay.”
She smirked at him as she dabbed a cotton pad with alcohol. He hissed as she put the cotton to his cut. Tony dropped his bag on the sofa, before fully going into his room, he poked his head out and began speaking.
“Bit odd that Gordon took care of Peter.”
Alastair raised his eyebrows at that and winced at the pain.
“What were you and Gordon even going to do in the club room?”
Tony seemed a bit flustered at that question but recovered quickly.
“Had to talk about policy, the Euro.”
“Right.”
“And what’s this about Peter liking someone?”
“Peter likes someone?” Anji chimed in.
“Apparently.” Tony responded.
Alastair groaned. At least, they hadn’t heard any of the conversation beforehand or else both Peter and Alastair were equally fucked. He pulled out his phone and dialled a number.
“Look I’m going to order takeout.”
“Chinese!” Tony shouted from his room.
“Yes, I know.” Alastair rolled his eyes as Anji gave him a strange look and huffed.
Anji and Alastair heard the door shut. As Anji was packing up the medical kit she spoke to Alastair, her eyebrows raised at a certain degree,
“You never order what I want.”
“That’s cause I fucking hate kebab.”
She glared at him before leaving to her own room.
Alastair grimaced when he looked at the small mirror in their living room. These bruises were going to last a while. Peter, of course had to make Alastair’s handsome face look like he’d turned up from 7 years in jail. He decided that he was going to lay on the sofa, he texted Tony to tell him to make sure he was awake to take in the order. Against all odds, he decided to text Peter.
Alastair : Look, I don’t think Tony knows anything.
Peter: Wow, you’re texting me first, shocking.
Alastair: Shut up. Does Gordon know?
Peter: Thankfully. No.
Alastair: So, you’re admitting it?
Peter: Admitting what?
Alastair: That you like Gordon.
Peter: Only if you admit you like Tony.
Alastair looked at his phone in irritation.
Alastair: It’s not like that.
Peter: Ye, ye that’s what they all say.
Alastair: I’m still pissed at you, but let’s talk later.
Peter: Night Alastair, hope you have shitty dreams.
Alastair: You too Peter.
It was somewhat pathetic, the relationship between Tony, Gordon, Peter and him. Alastair put his legs on top of the sofa and closed his eyes. He would wake up to warm soup. And Tony. What a loser, he thought, before telling himself that he wasn’t in love with a man and that Peter was just an arse.
-----