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The sun glinted off the windows, little shining boxes set into the towering wall. Geoff squinted up at them, counting rows and columns. He wondered if one of those cells belonged to Tucker. He wondered if he’d be allowed to ask.
He killed the engine, flicking open the glove compartment to grab his sunglasses before climbing out of the car. His stomach twisted a little, even though he had no reason to be nervous. He fished his phone out of his pocket anyway, just to check.
It was definitely Thursday, right?
It was, of course, it was the same Thursday that Geoff had had circled on his calendar since he bought it. Week after week of little pink heart stickers reminding him exactly when visiting day was. He studied his phone screen, looking past the little letters at the screensaver underneath. Him and Tucker, in matching suits (because they couldn’t decide who would get to wear the dress, and neither looked good in white anyway) and matching grins. Tucker had a bouquet clutched in one hand, the other holding tight to Geoff’s, presenting their new, shiny rings to the camera.
They weren’t going to do a wedding, originally. They’d been together for a decade, they knew they were going to be forever, they didn’t need a party to tell everyone. But then Tucker had come into a lot of money very quickly (through less than legal means) and they’d decided, fuck it, why not?
The weather had been kind of miserable that day. Cloudy for spring, and much colder than it was this year. But they’d had fun anyway. The mistake had been not moving in together properly before the wedding. Geoff would never forget the day he came home and found the drumkit set up in the kitchen. He loved that man with all of his heart, but God he was annoying.
“You alright, mate?”
Geoff jumped, shoving his phone back in his pocket and blinking. There was a man in front of him, towering over Geoff with shoulders so broad that he just about blocked out the sun. He was wearing a blue uniform, complete with one of those upturned-bucket looking hats that always made Geoff laugh.
“Hm?” He managed.
“Can I help you?”
The guard shifted, placing a hand on his hip that not-so-subtly drew attention to the baton hanging from his belt.
“No, thank you, I’m fine. Just visiting someone,”
The man surveyed him for another second, then his face shifted, and his tone brightened significantly. “Oh! I met you last week, didn’t I? You’re here for the drummer boy in block C?”
The guard kept up with his cheerful chatting the whole time he was taking Geoff through security. He did his best to respond, answering questions distractedly while he rolled his fingers across print scanners, and emptied his pockets into a big plastic box. His phone lit up again when he put it down, showing the wedding photo again. Geoff grinned down at it.
The rest was a bit of a blur. He stopped paying attention, going through the familiar motions distractedly, and then Tucker was in front of him. They settled, either side of a thick pane of glass, settled in rickety old chairs, with plastic phones clutched in their hands.
“Hi!” Tucker said with a grin, waving with his free hand.
Geoff laughed, feeling the very last of his nerves from the morning dissolve. “Hey,”
The chatter came so easily to them, falling back into their old rhythm within minutes, that Geoff let his brain take a step back, and stopped paying so much attention.
Tucker looked sort of older and younger at the same time. He was getting far more regular haircuts in there than he ever had on the outside, and Geoff had to admit he was grateful for it. The short looked much better on him. He’d been in for years now, and it showed in his face, but he looked so much happier now that it almost cancelled all of that time out. He’d been under so much stress, before, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, convinced that one day he’d just wash up on the shore of the Thames, bloated and pale with finger shaped bruises coming down his neck. Geoff couldn’t count the amount of nights he’d sat at home, watching the hands of the kitchen clock tick forward until the sun crept over the horizon, accepting that he’d never see his husband again, until Tucker would fall through the door, holding his palm against a black eye or clutching a bleeding arm.
He’d told him it was the drums.
When he’d gotten arrested, and he knew exactly who’d called in the tip, Tucker had sat down with Geoff on either side of the bars in the police station, and asked him why. Why had he asked Gerard to get him caught? Geoff still remembered the way he’d laughed, forcing an easy way into his voice when he’d said ‘I don’t know, got sick of your drumming, I guess’.
Really, he’d just hated seeing him like that. Hated how much strain it had put them both under, how scared they’d always been.
Geoff sighed, adjusting the phone in his hand. He felt his mouth twist just a little, then blinked, and realised he hadn’t said anything for a long time.
“Earth to Geoff,” Tucker said, waving his hand up in front of the glass to get his attention.
“Sorry,” He smiled. “Miles away,”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Geoff shrugged. “I was just thinking about something,”
“I hope you’re not spending our precious little time together planning what you’re going to eat for dinner tonight,”
They both laughed. And then the words fell out of Geoff’s mouth before he could stop them.
“I miss you,”
Tucker smiled, tilting his head over and squinting. He had a funny look in his eyes that Geoff couldn’t quite place.
“I'm right here, darling,” He said gently, gesturing to himself. “Nothing to miss,”
“Yeah, yeah,”
He trailed off, eyes flickering down to the table between them, tracing over the glass boundary between the pair. It was silly, he knew, to miss someone who was right in front of him, but he did. He’d let himself get caught up in thinking about their old life, and now he couldn’t stop his mind from fixating on how he missed being near him all the time, missed waking up in the same bed, all the stupid little habits that used to be in his life every day. He missed the karaoke bar where they first met, the one that was an obvious front for money laundering but Geoff hadn't cared because it was fun and cheap and he needed to blow off steam because university was kicking his ass. He'd stayed there all night, cueing up as many songs as he wanted because nobody else gave a fuck, and he'd apparently charmed the hot bartender with his mediocre singing because he'd managed to bring him home. He went back week after week, until Tucker had quit to pursue even less legal careers, and Geoff had been so head over heels that he was hopeless to do anything but follow him. They still went back every now and then for dates, but they'd not been in years, obviously. He'd taken Gerard and Frank there a couple of times, but it hadn't been the same. They'd been having fun, and being all gross and in love, and hardcore duets are only fun when you're the only two people in the place who give a shit, not when your friends are there singing along.
He didn't miss the way he used to worry. And he didn't miss the endless parade of druggies and gangs coming through their kitchen. He didn't miss feeling like their lives hung by a thread, and he really didn't miss the constant drumming. But he missed Tucker.
Even when he was right there. It didn’t stop him from feeling it.
He didn't want to go back to how they used to be, but he did wish he could get some of that old niceness back.
“I'll see you next week, won't I?” Tucker asked, blinking at Geoff like he had absolutely no idea where this had come from.
“Yeah, of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world,” He managed a smile, then glanced back at the clock behind him with a sinking in his chest. Their time was nearly up. “Look, I have to go,”
Tucker nodded. “Me too. I can’t wait to get back to the common room. They're serving my favourite tonight, flavourless slop,”
Geoff laughed despite himself. It burst up through the balloon of misery in his chest and fell, raspy, out of his mouth. It wasn't that funny. In fact, it was a joke he made nearly every week. But for some reason today it was exactly what he needed to hear. He sucked in a breath and let a parade of giggles vibrate through his chest. Tucker joined in, laughing just because Geoff was, mumbling something about having no idea what's so funny.
Finally, when the guard came back into the room, clearing his throat pointedly, Geoff wiped a tear from his eyes. His hand pressed flat against his red cheek, he sighed again, and his chest shook a little.
“Bye, then,” Tucker murmured, glancing backwards at what must be a guard on his end too. “I love you,”
“Love you, too,”
And that was it. He went through all the motions of security again, biting back a comment on how he didn't need to be patted down again because they did it on the way in and he hadn't even touched his husband so how could they possibly have passed anything between them, and stumbled back out to his car. Blinking in the bright sunlight, he stuck the key in the ignition and rolled the window down.
He didn't cry on the way home. He didn't. He just needed to wait in the car for a bit before going inside for totally unrelated reasons. And he went straight to the bathroom when he got in because he needed to piss, not because he needed to clear his face of red streaks before Frank and Gerard could see him.
They were waiting for him upstairs, dinner laid out on the table amongst case files and bundles of red wool. He noticed Frank's hands were covered in an orange tinge when he leant across the table to hand Geoff a drink.
“You been dyeing hair today?” He asked, nodding down at the stained fingers.
“Oh, yeah, it was starting to fade. It looks patchy as fuck now though, because someone wouldn't sit still long enough for me to put it on properly,”
“I'm close to a breakthrough here, Frankie, you can't expect me to just stop,” Gerard protested from the living room.
“I can and I will. We're having a nice dinner to celebrate our friend, whatever Patrick is doing can wait,”
“He's probably celebrating too,” Geoff said with a laugh. “I'm pretty sure they're in the same wing,”
Pete and Patrick had been in and out of prison since the thing with the pool and the bombs. Most of what Gerard did these days was track Pete down and stick him back in Sherrinford. Currently, they'd nailed Patrick for a much more petty crime, and he'd been sent to the same prison where they were keeping Tucker. The fact that he'd gone quietly meant it was obviously part of some bigger conspiracy, apparently, so Gerard had been working day and night to figure out what they were planning and get to them before they did it. He'd been trying to convince Geoff to try to get information for them, but he wasn't gonna pimp out his own husband just to figure out something they were bound to get eventually anyway.
He imagined Tucker, in the dining hall, wearing those boring grey khakis that the guards forced them all into, picking at his flavourless slop. Patrick on the other side of the table, no doubt regaling the other prisoners with stories of Sherrinford. Or maybe he'd be sitting apart, quietly eating his dinner, playing the model citizen. Tucker should be the centre of attention tonight, anyway. They couldn't exactly throw parties inside, but him and a couple of the other guys had saved up to get some nice food, and they'd stay up late talking and playing cards. Maybe he'd find an old bucket or something, start drumming out a beat, get everyone dancing.
Geoff shook his head a little, the fantasy was very quickly turning West Side Story. He tried to put the whole scenario out of his head, pushing it down next to the horrible loneliness clawing at his chest. It was fine. They'd gone for time apart before, even before he'd been arrested, and it had never been a problem for them. He didn't know why today felt so different.
Well, he did, but he wasn't about to admit it.
The others kept up a constant stream of chatter over dinner. Even moreso when Ray and Mikey arrived, holding a bottle of wine and a DVD of The Conjuring that they just had to watch once they were done eating. The horror movies were growing on Mikey, apparently, although Geoff suspected he just liked to hide in Ray's shoulder from the scary parts.
Frank really pulled out all the stops. There were multiple courses, and cocktails that he mixed himself (and took many liberties with the ratios), and Geoff’s favourite dessert. They chatted about how hot it was for spring, and the fresh paintings drying in the living room, and their plans for summer holidays, if they could manage to drag themselves away from the dreary London streets, but inevitably the conversation turned back to work. This time, because Ray brought it up.
“I'm just saying, if he's locked up then he's locked up, right? Why are we so worried?”
“Because he always puts himself exactly where he wants to be,” Frank argued, glancing down at his phone screen and back up again. He'd been doing that all evening. “So if he's locked up then it means he's planning something in there, or it's some kind of alibi for what's about to go to shit on the outside,”
“The problem is we can't figure out what's about to happen. The only person who knows is Pete, and he's obviously not telling us anything,”
“No? I thought you guys were good buddies?” Frank teased.
Mikey wrinkled his nose. “I told you, it was one time, and I didn't know he was a criminal,”
“Of course, he was just Kyle ,”
“Shut up,” There was no venom in it, though, the corners of his mouth turning up and his cheekbones turning a little pink. Geoff wished he could have been there when they told Mikey he'd been hooking up with the guy they were chasing all along. Although apparently the timelines didn't actually overlap, or something, he couldn't keep track anymore. He wasn't even sure why Mikey had been in New Mexico.
Frank laughed, checking his phone again and throwing an incredibly unsubtle glance at the door.
“Are you good?” Geoff asked finally. “You look like you're waiting for someone?”
“Nah, it's nothing,”
Gerard flinched suddenly, choking out a half formed word directly into his glass of water so it all splashed up in his face. Geoff got the distinct feeling that he'd just been kicked under the table.
“Sorry,” He mumbled, accepting a napkin from Ray and wiping his face. “I was just going to say that I'm sure I'm close to figuring out what their plan is. Pete's been sending me messages,”
“Emails again?” Ray asked, taking the napkin back and leaning across the table to get the water where Gerard had missed it on his cheek.
“No, just livejournal. But there's references in there, stuff only I'd understand. I know the answer is there somewhere, but if I could just talk to him, then-”
“They're disabling security on the Bank of England. So probably a robbery after that, then doing the same on the prisons and breaking Patrick out,”
Geoff’s heart skipped. He whipped his head around towards the door so fast that his neck protested. He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be real. The man standing in the door, scratching the back of his head and grinning down at him, it couldn't really be-
“Tucker! Thank you so much,” Gerard exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and pushing past to get back into the living room.
He heard a clatter, and frantic muttering, as Gerard combed back through all of his notes and put together the pieces of the plan. But Geoff didn't care, he wasn't even really listening, he was just staring up at the body in the doorway.
“Hey Geoff!” Tucker smiled, waving down at him.
“You– what?”
He laughed. “You didn't really think I'd leave you high and dry on our anniversary did you?”
Geoff got about halfway through a stuttered sentence before he decided he didn't care about finishing it. He just cared about pushing himself out of his seat and rushing across the room and throwing his arms around him so hard that they both stumbled backwards into the doorframe.
“You bastard,” He muttered, laughing. “You didn’t say anything,”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point of a surprise, sweetheart,”
Tucker’s arms were solid around his back, face tucked into his neck. Geoff tried to pull back enough to look back at the table, but it was difficult when he really didn’t want to let go of him ever again.
“You knew about this, didn’t you?” He asked Frank, wriggling round to at least face him without having to step out of their little circle. “That’s why you’ve been so cagey all night,”
Frank grinned. “You know how bad I am with secrets, but he made me promise not to tell. You’re late, by the way,” He said to Tucker, holding up his phone and pointing at the time.
“I know, sorry. Got caught up chatting with the criminal masterminds, you know how it is,”
Some more clattering drifted in from the living room, and Gerard shouted something that didn’t make any sense. Frank laughed, setting down his phone.
“Yeah, yeah, coming,” He got up and crossed to join them. He leant in to hug Tucker, but Geoff was still gripping him, so he got pulled in too. “It’s good to see you, man,”
“You too,”
Geoff reached up and put his hand on Tucker’s face. Just to make sure he was real, and not some kind of mass hallucination. He couldn’t quite believe he was really here. Tucker laughed, raising an eyebrow.
He swallowed. His mouth felt dry suddenly, his blood fizzing in his veins. Caught somewhere between the adrenaline of the surprise, not sure whether to feel nervous or excited.
“We, um,” He stammered. “We should-”
“Downstairs?”
He nodded frantically. Tucker’s arms shifted, and those prison yard workouts must have done something to him, because he leant down and in one smooth motion scooped Geoff completely off the ground. He shrieked, tightening his hands around Tucker’s neck, but Tucker only laughed again, and jostled him a little.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” He shifted a little, and then turned and quite literally carried Geoff, bridal style, over the threshold. “I’ll see you guys later,” He called over his shoulder, barrelling down the stairs at a speed that Geoff did not appreciate.
He changed his tune rather quickly, though, when Tucker carried him into their flat, and actually threw Geoff onto the bed, only managing to disentangle their hands from each other for long enough to go and lock the door.
Even after they were finished, Geoff couldn’t seem to make himself let go of Tucker. They lay side by side, on top of the covers because it was fucking boiling for May, wriggling and shifting until they were so close that he wasn’t entirely sure whose body was whose. He just couldn’t get over that he was here. In their bed, in their flat, in the house that they bought together but they hadn’t shared in years.
“You know, I’m not going anywhere,” Tucker murmured.
“What?”
He laughed. “You’re acting like I’m going to disappear at any second. You don’t have to hold so tight,”
Geoff leant forward, fitting his head into Tucker’s neck.
“Have you considered that I want to hold on so tight?” He mumbled into the warm skin.
Tucker laughed again, tightening his own arms around Geoff’s back. “I missed you, too,”
“I can’t believe you planned all this without telling me. What if I’d had plans?”
He scoffed. “What plans could you have made on our anniversary that aren’t sitting at home moping?”
“I don’t mope, I yearn. And I could have plans,”
“Like what,”
“I could be having an affair,” He argued.
“You’d really meet your mistress on our anniversary?”
“What can I say? He fulfils me,”
Tucker laughed, so hard that it shook both of them. “Okay, well next time you’ve got to invite this mystery suitor to visit. If he’s going to fuck my husband, I think I deserve to meet him,”
When their laughter died down, they settled together in silence for a while. Listening to the sounds of The Conjuring drifting down from the floor above, along with the occasional incredibly shrill shriek of surprise. Eventually, a thought struck Geoff.
“ Do we have plans?” He asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows to look at Tucker properly. “Or are we just in for the night?”
“Oh, um, we can be. If you want to be,”
He glanced down. Geoff nudged him.
“What?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s nothing,”
“I didn’t say I wanted to stay in, I was just asking if there was anything you wanted to do?”
Tucker shook his head a little. “I was only going to suggest we go do karaoke,”
Geoff felt his mouth twist into a grin.
“Just like old times?”
He nodded, a tiny smile fighting to get onto his face. Geoff’s heart swelled suddenly, and he leant down to kiss him. Which took a little bit longer than he’d planned, until Tucker put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back a bit.
“I love you too, but- we’re meant to be leaving,”
Geoff laughed, rolling off him and rummaging through the pile on the floor to start putting his clothes back on. He didn’t let himself wonder how long he could stay for before the guards would notice he was gone. He couldn’t think about how long they’d have to wait before they could be next to each other properly again. Once he started letting himself go down that road, he’d just spend the whole visit feeling sad about the moment it would be over. And he wanted to enjoy this.
Instead, he focused on buttoning his shirt back up, on pulling the plastic storage boxes out from under the bed so he could find Tucker something nice to wear that wasn’t prison scrubs. He focused on the feeling of the solid hand clutched in his, on how the old karaoke bar was exactly the same as they’d left it. He focused on the bubbling feeling in his chest as he watched his husband sing, he focused on the knowledge that everything about being with him was perfect. That no matter how much time had passed, no matter what they went through, they’d always be together.
And that once this was all over, they’d still have visiting day.