He lowers our hands between us and entwines our fingers. “When can you come to my place to stay?”

“I was thinking this week. But now it depends on how quickly I can send Cy back home. Can I ring you tomorrow for an update?”

He nods. “Don’t let too much time pass or you’ll end up like you were yesterday.”

“Understood… Thanks, Jun.”

I wish I could kiss him—just to confirm that there is no confusion about this situation. But he’s so bloody tall. It always puts me at a slight disadvantage. The minute I reach up and into him, he could just straighten his giraffe-like body and I’m left looking like some git that’s leaning face-first into an open window.

He shifts down and places a soft kiss on my cheek, then presses his forehead into my temple. He’s warm and smells divine. His voice is low and I can feel his breath against my skin. “Good night, sunshine.”

When he stands, he slowly pulls our hands apart. I sigh. That was actually much better than my potentially thwarted kiss. A moment later he’s gone. Only the soothing scent of him remains. I feel like I’m floating as I walk down the hall toward my bedroom. But I’m grounded when I slide the door open and see Cy there, looking surly with his arms folded.

“You know, I read a novel with that title once—I’m Gay for You. It happens a lot in those romance books—which is how my dad found me out when I was sixteen, by the way. He uncovered my stash of erotica.”

I’m standing in the doorway, watching him and scratching my head. I literally have no words. He goes on.

“I always imagined you’d be chuffed to hear me say that, and then we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off each other. We’d have awkward, bumbling but sincere sex since I’ve never done it properly with another man, then we’d fight my parents and the world at large. It was my dramatic opening line. It was supposed to change everything between us.”

I exhale a breath, considering. “Honestly? Fuck that book—and your line.” Fuck bumbling, awkward sex too. I’m getting too old for that shit, and Jun has essentially ruined me for it.

Cyrus scoffs. “Whatever. In those books, one bloke is always very rich and the other embarrassingly poor. I could never decide which one was me or you, since we both grew up properly middle-class. Neither of us is white, either. They’re almost always white—”

“You don’t see the issue in your basing our relationship off erotica novels with mainstream plot devices?” I ask, folding my arms. “Feeding me lines from them?”

Cyrus shrugs. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Well… you should try it again—on a different man, I mean. Some guys will really be into that—”

“Shut up.” Cyrus pouts. “It only works the first time, doesn’t it? Have you slept with that leggy bloke? That fucking posh vampire. What rank is he? What’s his ethnicity?”

So many awkward questions. I avoid the first one. “First-gen. Why does his ethnicity matter?”

“Because I want to know!” Cyrus sneers, bitter. “You’ve totally fucked him. Don’t even bother answering, you twat.”

Twenty-Seven

Jae

In the end, Cyrus stayed for five days. Which, honestly, is four days longer than I’d hoped.

His confession started off lighthearted and fairly ridiculous—quoting lines at me from his secret stash of erotica novels. But as the days went on, he opened up more about it and his feelings ran shockingly deep.

It started when I told him I was sorry for ruining his “gay holiday.” He didn’t find that humorous. I guess I should have known better because that’s one of the problems with us. Whenever I joke with him, it never lands. He always gets mad and starts fighting with me. Meanwhile, he says whatever the hell he wants to me, and I take it. Let it roll off my back time after time.

That was probably his fantasy—that I’d always be his little sidekick and take whatever trite crap he threw at me, smiling and happy because at least we were finally together. My best mate, a straight guy, has turned gay for me. He wants me and only me. Oh joy.

Piss off. I have enough baggage of my own that I’m already working through. I’m not shouldering his, too.

I did apologize to him, though. Later, I realized I was insensitive during his very first time opening up about his sexuality. That, I definitely regret—my initial reaction was wrong. In the end, I told him there could never be anything romantic between us. I also said that if he truly feels he’s queer, he should explore that and gain a better understanding of himself—that he shouldn’t hold anyone else responsible for his feelings and choices. It’s not fair to the person he’s in a relationship with. I also told him to be honest with his family, when he’s ready, and on his own terms.

He told me to stop treating him like one of my patients, but I hope he listens. I usually charge an obscene amount of money for that kind of advice, and he got it for free.

I promised to check in with him at least once a month. That’s shit on my end, but I’m busy, aren’t I? Shifting into a vampire. I didn’t tell him anything about that because we had enough on our plates. I did tell him that I’m moving in and have been sleeping with Junichi. He kept pestering me on that topic, so I finally admitted as much.

He asked me a lot of questions about Jun—what he does, where he grew up, his family background. Honestly, I was surprised I could answer him. The way I talked, I sounded like a bloke with a proper boyfriend. Someone in a stable relationship. I don’t feel that I am, but the template is there. The only question I couldn’t answer was how old Junichi is.

In an oddly sincere moment, Cy also asked if Jun makes me happy. I wanted to tell him he makes me feel like I’ve sprouted wings so I can fly over the moon for him and bring back the stars. He makes me so happy and comfortable that I’m willing to lap up his fucking blood after he bites himself for me. What kind of psychotic level of affection is that?

I settled with a simple “Yes.”

I’m walking up to Jun’s house now with my rolling luggage, rucksack and a reusable shopping bag full of groceries. It’s Friday, late afternoon—one full week since Junichi essentially brought me back to life from the near-dead. He’s left a key underneath the front doormat for me. He’s working late in his shop, so he told me to let myself in and make myself comfortable.

I do just that. He said I can take the room down an opposite hallway from his… Fantastic.

Sarcasm aside, it’s a nice room. There are lovely green plants set in glass jars full of clean water hanging from the walls, a slim window with a view to the quiet street, and the mattress is covered in white, fluffy down bedding. This feels quite the step up from my shabby flat. Maybe I’m the poor bloke in the gay romances Cy was going on about, and now comes the part of the story where the rich benefactor has taken me in?

I’m not exactly poor though. I’m not rich, but I do have a little more than a hundred thousand pounds in my investment portfolio and about fifty thou in my savings, plus the paid-for house in Bristol. Not too shabby, but I should probably be much further along in my retirement savings.

After I’ve unpacked my things, I head to the kitchen to unload my shopping bag and start dinner. Lulú is following me, slinking about all the while. I occasionally reach down and pet her, letting her arch her smooth back into my palm as she purrs. What’s incredible is every time I speak to her, she responds.

“Do you think Jun will be upset if I take over his kitchen for a bit?”

“Meow.”

“He doesn’t seem to use it much, does he?”

“Meoooow.”

“I know, right? Bloody shame.”

His kitchen is lovely. Sleek stainless-steel appliances, porcelain backsplash with a blue-and-white paisley pattern and dark granite countertops. I open the refrigerator, and there’s literally nothing there but two bright green bunches of spring onions, a pack of beer and some bottled water. “What the actual fuck?” I grab a bunch of the onions and stand straight.

“Meooow.”

Two hours later, it’s seven thirty and I can tell Junichi is home because Lulú goes padding down the hardwood hall and toward the front door, meowing excitedly. She’s kept me company this entire time, jamming out with me as I cook and we listen to an Aventura and Romeo Santos streaming station. I’m just finishing up as Junichi slowly walks around the corner.

I grin in his direction. “Hiya.”

I am not, but he’s looking at me like I’m wearing a clown costume and clowns make him very nervous. “What’s… going on?” he asks.

“I made dinner.” I lift the hot pot from the hob using both handles, gripping them with two dishcloths that I found. I walk over to the kitchen table, where I’ve already set up the other side dishes. I look over my shoulder at him. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“No… I don’t.” He’s slowly walking forward, still confused. “You cook?”

“I do.”