Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Simon groaned as he rolled over in bed, stretching out aching muscles that had become tight in sleep. On his back, he stared at the ceiling, cataloguing his aches and breathing slowly as he worked himself up to the painful act of getting out of bed. He counted to thirty before rolling onto his side and throwing his legs over the side, pushing himself up to sitting with one arm. He rubbed a hand across his face, the coarse stubble scratchy against his palm. Even though he'd had a full eight hours of sleep, he felt like he'd been hit by a truck.

Johnny had been pestering him for weeks (longer really) to go to a massage therapist or a physiotherapist, or something so that he wasn't in so much pain all the time. He'd even offered to do some research to find someone that Simon might feel comfortable enough to work with. Simon appreciated the effort his friend was making to help make him more comfortable, but the idea of seeing someone who had to touch him, who had to ask questions about how much pain he was in (and expect him to be honest about it), and who had to see him partially unclothed was not just unappealing, it was downright horrifying. 

He'd eventually relented after he woke up one morning with his shoulder so locked up he could barely function. He'd called Johnny while he was laid up in bed and with a heavy sigh conceded that he needed to see someone and would appreciate whatever help Johnny could provide.

"Good," Johnny had said, matter of factly. "I know you said that you didn't want me to, but I went ahead and did some research anyway and found a short list of good options just in case you eventually came around."

Johnny was nothing if not persistent. 

"Are you okay today? Need me to come by?"

Simon tried to roll his left shoulder, testing his mobility. He grunted at the pain of it, but it was manageable. "Nah, I think I'll manage today."

"Aye. Well, if you change your mind, give me a call and I'll be over in a jiff. I'll text you the info I found and let you sort through it."

"Sounds good, Johnny. Thanks."

"Aye, of course, Simon."

A minute later Simon's phone vibrated with a text from Johnny with a short list of massage therapists and physiotherapists, each one with a short blurb about why he thought they'd be a good fit.

Studying the list, Simon eventually settled on someone named Kyle Garrick. He was a registered massage therapist and came to your home, which was convenient for Simon on the days when mobility was particularly challenging. The idea of having a stranger come into his home wasn't ideal, but it at least meant that he was on familiar ground and that made him feel more comfortable. His finger hovered over the call button before he huffed out a breath and pressed it.

The phone rang a few times before eventually going to voicemail. The voice on the recording was low and smooth. "You've reached Kyle Garrick, registered massage therapist. I'm unable to take your call at the moment, but please leave a message with your name and telephone number, and I'll return your call as soon as I'm able. Please feel free to also text if that is a better way to communicate."

Text?

Simon opted not to leave a voice message, instead opening his messages and typing out his inquiry. He included his name, age, and nature of his ailment, and his phone number just to be thorough. Phone is okay , he added at the end of the message before hitting send. Setting his phone aside, he went into the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as it would go, hoping the heat would help to relax his muscles a bit. 

By the time he got out of the shower there was a responding text message from Kyle. 

> Simon, hi! Chuffed that you want to work with me. I've got a busy day of appointments, but I'll give you a call around noon if that's okay for you and we can hash out the particulars and find an appointment for you. 

Simon typed out a response confirming that noon would be fine, and went to fix himself a cup of tea and something to eat for breakfast.

Annoyingly, he couldn't stop looking at the time, waiting for Kyle to call him. He could play a video game to pass the time, but his shoulders were stiff and he didn't think sitting in a fixed position holding a controller was a good idea. He dry-swallowed a couple ibuprofen and with a sigh he settled in on the sofa with a heating pad tucked beneath his shoulder and his heated blanket pulled over his legs. He turned the telly onto some mid-day soap opera that didn’t require too much of Simon’s attention.. 

When his phone buzzed on the coffee table, Simon found that he'd fallen asleep. He groaned as reached for the phone, quickly accepting the call before it went to voicemail.

"Hullo?"

"Simon? It's Kyle Garrick calling."

"Right, hi."

"I’m looking forward to working with you. Sounds like you’ve got quite the situation. Have you ever seen a massage therapist before?"

"No," Simon admitted.

Kyle hummed in acknowledgement. "No problem. So, how I work is I schedule one hour sessions with clients. The first appointment is largely evaluative, but does include a massage. It’s £200 per session. How often you need to see me is up to you, but I’d say most of my client’s see me once a month, and more serious cases might be twice a month, or more for especially bad cases. Is that okay?”

Two hundred quid was a pretty penny, but if it meant that Simon could go a bit longer without feeling like his body was locking up on him, it would be worth it. And Kyle said once a month. He could manage that.

“That sounds fine,” Simon confirmed.

“I assume you contacted me today because you’re experiencing a lot of pain. Can you give me an idea of where you’re at on a scale of one to ten?”

Simon considered how he was feeling. Better than he had when he’d woken up, but certainly had worse days. “Around a six,” Simon said after a moment.

“Okay, high but not as bad as it could be. What’s your schedule like? I have some time this week that I can fit in an appointment. I’m generally pretty flexible on time, but I don’t book appointments before eight or after six.”

“My schedule is pretty open,” Simon said.

“Alright. How does tomorrow around three work?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll send you a form to fill out which includes personal information, medical history, stuff like that. If you can get it back to me before our appointment, that’ll be useful information for me and will make our appointment more efficient. I’ll also need your address, of course.”

They spent another few minutes finalizing the details, and then Simon was left to reconcile with the fact that a stranger would be coming to his flat the following day to touch his broken body.

When he was finished with Kyle, he fired off a quick text to Johnny.

< Appointment tomorrow

> Proud of you, Simon.

The following morning Simon woke just as stiff as the day before. He rolled onto his back, trying to stretch his legs out straight, biting back the pained groan as his joints protested. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and went to make some tea. 

The fact that Kyle was coming in the afternoon made Simon feel like he couldn’t do anything until then, even if he had the whole day ahead of him.

He’d gone through the form Kyle had sent while he lay in bed the night before filling in the information as thoroughly as he could. Where it asked for an emergency contact, Simon wrote Johnny’s name without a second thought. Not that he could imagine a situation where a massage would result in the need to call an emergency contact, but if ever there was, there was no one Simon trusted more than Johnny. 

There were places in the medical history section Simon was tempted to leave blank–the specific nature of some of the injuries he’d accumulated during his military service; some pre-existing injuries from when he was a child–but in the end decided it was best to be as honest as possible. He wasn’t sure why but there was something about Kyle that made Simon inherently want to trust him. 

Maybe it was the warm tone of his voice, or the way he was direct and to the point, didn’t try to sell Simon something he didn’t need, didn’t waste Simon’s time while they were on the phone. The fact he was on a list that Johnny had put together certainly helped. Simon trusted Johnny’s judgement and he wouldn’t recommend someone to Simon that he hadn’t thoroughly vetted.

As he waited for the day to pass, he did some light cleaning around the flat, as much as he was able, so that it was orderly when Kyle arrived. He sent in a grocery delivery order so that he’d have something to make tea with later.

> Nervous about your appointment?

< Yes and no.

He appreciated Johnny checking in. 

< Thanks for doing the research for me. I really do appreciate it.

> Of course, mate. I know you’d never get the help you need if you had to do it yourself.

Simon hated that Johnny was right.

Soon enough, the appointment time was approaching and the undecided anxiety solidified as Simon began to tense at the idea of Kyle being in his flat. The anxiety was made worse when Kyle sent a text around 2:30 letting him know he was on his way. 

When the buzzer went just before 3:00, Simon had to force himself not to tell Kyle that he’d changed his mind, pressing the button to let him into the building and pacing anxiously in front of the door as he waited for the knock signalling that this was really happening.  

The anxiety Simon felt spiked when he opened the door. On the other side was the most handsome man he’d ever seen. Kyle was tall, almost as tall as Simon, with warm brown eyes and dark skin. There was a small scar on his left cheek just below his eye which somehow made him that much more attractive. He was dressed in a fitted navy blue polo shirt that showed off strong arms and broad shoulders, and track pants that clung to long legs. He had what Simon assumed was his massage table leaning against the wall on the floor next to him.

“Simon?” Kyle said with a small smile and a raised eyebrow.

It was a second before Simon realized he was being spoken to. “Sorry. Yes.”

Kyle put out his hand to shake, and Simon took it, despite how much he hated shaking hands. Kyle’s grip was strong and his palm was smooth against Simon’s own rough, scarred one.

He imagined the way the hand would feel on his body and his brain shuffled through a complex catalogue of emotions. On the one hand, Simon’s stomach roiled at the idea of anyone touching him, one of the reasons he had avoided this for as long as he did. On the other, he’d never wanted anyone to touch him so much in his life. Just like the night before, he contemplated the easy way in which he wanted to trust Kyle. 

When they let go, Simon stepped back to let Kyle into the flat. “How’re you feeling today, Simon?” Kyle asked as he went about putting his things down and getting the table set up, Simon watching awkwardly from the edge of the room.

“Uh…okay, I ‘spose. About as bad as yesterday.”

“I don’t want to say being at a six is a good thing, but consistency is good, and I’m glad to hear that you aren’t at a higher pain level today.” There was a loud click as Kyle locked the legs of the massage table into place. “How often would you say you’re at something higher than a six?” He turned the table up onto the legs. He put his hands on his hips as he asked, “How often do you get into the eight or higher range?”

“Only sometimes. Can happen unexpectedly or it happens on days after I’ve pushed myself too hard.”

Kyle nodded. “Okay. I’ve got through the information you sent me. You were very thorough on the medical history, which is great. Why don’t you get on the table here and I’ll do a bit of an evaluation and then we’ll get started.”

Simon hesitated. “Do you need me to…”

“You can undress to your comfort. If you’d prefer to remain clothed, just a light shirt and and trousers is preferable so I can adequately access the muscle. What you’re wearing now is fine if you’re not comfortable.”

Simon nodded, opted to remain as he was, and got onto the table with some difficulty. He could feel Kyle’s eyes on him as he moved. Once he was settled, Kyle stepped towards the table. “I’m just going to assess your mobility and see where most of the tension is in your muscles. I’m going to move your arms and legs a bit, which might hurt, so tell me if I’m overextending anything, okay?”

He waited for Simon to acknowledge the question before touching him. When Simon immediately tensed beneath his hands, Kyle removed them and took a step back. “Simon? Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” Simon mumbled. “I’m…I’m not a huge fan of being touched.” He realized this was maybe something he should have disclosed to Kyle before their appointment.

“Would it help if I told you where I was going to touch before I did it?”

Simon considered it. “Yes.”

“Okay. I’m going to touch your left arm first, just below your elbow, and we’re going to test your range of motion.” His fingers touched Simon exactly where he’d described, and while Simon flinched, it was brief, and Kyle moved his arm back and forth, up and down, before setting it back on the table. “Going to do the same thing with your right arm, now, okay?”

Kyle moved his arms and legs this way and that, touched his shoulder blades and hips, always telling Simon where he would be touching him next and what he would be doing before he did so. He made soft sounds under his breath as he worked. Simon tried not to feel like he was being moved around like a doll as Kyle worked.

“You’re doing brilliant, Simon. I’m done moving you about now. I’m going to get started on the massage. I’ll start at your shoulders and work my way down. If there’s any pain, please tell me. If there’s anywhere you’d prefer I didn’t touch, please let me know.”

Simon nodded his head, breath held as he waited for the first rush of agony.

Strong hands and fingers pressed into the meat of Simon’s upper back, drawing a groan from his lips as Kyle worked the muscle there. He eased the tension with precision until the muscle relaxed and Simon felt relief flood through him. He melted into the table, and Kyle worked his way across to the other side, doing the same thing. Down his back, along his hips, down his thighs, calves, and finally his feet. Kyle’s hands felt just as good as Simon imagined. 

By the time Kyle was done Simon was a puddle, completely unable to move for reasons unrelated to the usual tension in his body. He felt half-asleep when Kyle called his name, amusement thick in his voice, to let him know that he was done and asking how Simon was feeling.

“Two hundred quid is a steal for how good I feel,” Simon said, half slurred. 

Kyle laughed and Simon wanted to record the sound and play it on repeat with the way it raised goose pimples along his skin. 

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“Mmmyeah.”

Kyle slid a hand across Simon’s back under his arm, gripping his other arm and helping him into a sitting position. 

“Pain level?”

Simon blinked at Kyle. “Pain?”

Kyle laughed again, and Simon listed forward towards the sound of it. “Sounds like I’ve done my job then. I’ll check in with you tomorrow to see how you’re doing. When you’re starting to feel close to a six on the pain scale again, we’ll set up another appointment. That’ll be a good gauge of how often you’ll need to see me.”

Simon was already sure that he needed to see Kyle every day.

“Sounds good,” he said instead, sliding off the massage table. He really did feel better.

He watched as Kyle packed up the table and collected his things. Simon pulled out his payment and Kyle issued him a receipt, tucking everything into his rucksack when he was done.

“Talk tomorrow, yeah?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Good meeting you, Simon.”

“Yeah.You, too.”

> So, how did it go?

< I can’t remember the last time I had so little pain.

> That’s great! What’re they like?

Simon debated whether he wanted to admit to Johnny that Kyle was insanely attractive.

< Very nice. Very good at his job.

> Did he leave you with a happy ending?

< Fuck off.

> Joking! Joking! Only joking!

Kyle called just after 9:00. “Hey, how are you feeling today?”

“Good. Can’t remember the last time I woke up without any pain.”

“Brilliant. I am so glad to hear that, Simon. Like I said yesterday, when you think you’re around the six range for your pain, give me a call and we’ll get another appointment scheduled.”

“Thank you, Kyle,” Simon said, trying to put as much appreciation in his voice as he could.

—

It was almost a month before Simon started waking up stiff and sore the way he had before his first appointment with Kyle. A month of thinking about the other man on an almost daily basis as he went about his life, aware of how much easier things were because of him. He’d even managed to go to the gym a few times with Johnny, which he hadn’t been capable of doing in some time. Not that he did anything he would consider impressive while he was there, but the ability to get out of his flat at all and to have the mobility to do even a small workout was significant. And it was nice to be out with his friend, hearing him chatter away about a recent night out with his friend Gaz, who Simon felt well acquainted with through how often Johnny spoke about him, even if they’d never met in person.

He reached for his phone, ready to call Kyle right away. But as his thumb hovered over the call button, he considered his pain level.

Kyle said to call when he was close to the six range. Did that mean on the verge, or was a five okay? He knew realistically that he shouldn’t be too fussy about it. A five today could be a six tomorrow and he didn’t know when he’d be able to see Kyle once he called, so he might as well call sooner rather than later.

Even still, he decided that he wasn’t quite where he had to be. He would take a hot shower and hope that it eased some of the tension. He could manage for another day. Closing the call screen for Kyle, he brought up Johnny’s contact instead.

“Hey!” Johnny said, voice bright and familiar and comforting. “It’s early. Are you okay?”

“Are you able to come around today?”

“Oh, sorry mate. I’ve got plans with Gaz. But we could come ‘round if you need us to. ‘S no problem.”

Simon felt guilty interrupting Johnny’s plans with Gaz, not wanting this man he’d only heard about through anecdotes to see him when he was having a bad pain day. “Nah, mate. It’s alright. Enjoy your day.”

“You sure, Simon? I can cancel my plans if you don’t want someone you don’t know hanging about. Gaz will understand.”

Johnny’s willingness to put his life on hold for him twisted his stomach. “I’m good, Johnny. Thanks, though. Have fun.”

He hung up, rolling onto his back. The muscle in his left shoulder spasmed painfully and he clenched his teeth until the pain passed, then forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom to shower.

The following morning found him in a similar state, and he reached for his phone again, finger hovering over the call button as he tried to decide if he was in enough pain. “Come off it, Riley,” he chastised himself. “You know you’re in pain. Just fuckin’ call him, you daft wanker.”

His thumb hit the button and he listened as the line rang a few times before Kyle’s voice greeted him on the other end. “How are we doing today, Simon?”

“Not great,” Simon admitted, biting back the urge to lie and say he’s fine.

“About the same as last time?”

“Thereabouts, yeah.”

There’s the sound of shuffling paper. “I’ve got an appointment available in a few days time. Think you can hold out that long?”

Simon shrugged, grimacing, even if Kyle couldn’t see it. “I’ve gone longer before.”

“I don’t want you to wait too long if you’re really suffering, though.”

“I can last a few days.”

“Does 11:00 work?”

“Yes. An earlier appointment would be great.”

“Okay, I’ve got you locked in. You’re sure you’re okay to wait a few days? I can move things around if you need something sooner.”

It was tempting to say yes, to have the opportunity to see Kyle sooner. His eagerness to accommodate Simon made him think of Johnny’s willingness to cancel his plans for him the day before.

“I can manage,” he said again.

“Okay. Well, we’ll see you soon, then.”

“Ta. Cheers.”

Even though Simon said that he could suffer for a couple more days, he was relieved when the appointment date finally arrived. 

The morning of, he woke more stiff than he had in a while and it took a lot of time and effort to get out of bed. He pulled on a loose pair of sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt, not feeling like he could manage much more than that. 

He fixed himself a cup of tea and some toast, eating the toast as he stood over the sink to catch the crumbs, and drank his tea as he made a path through his flat. The movement helped his joints from locking up.

As he finished the dregs of his tea, Kyle sent a text letting him know he was on his way. Not too long after, there was the buzz of the front door and then Kyle was in the flat, setting up the massage table.

“How’s your pain today?”

“About the same as last time, but I’m stiffer than usual,” Simon said. He rubbed at a spot on his lower back that was spasming painfully. 

“Ok, well let’s get straight to it then. You can go ahead and get settled on the table when you’re ready.”

It was evident by the way Kyle’s eyes went slightly wide when Simon pulled his t-shirt over his head that he was expecting him to remain dressed like he had last time. Or maybe it was the mess of scars along Simon’s back and torso that had the other man so surprised. Either way, Kyle didn’t say anything, and Simon climbed onto the massage table and got comfortable.

Like he did last time, Kyle told Simon what he would be doing and warned him before he touched him so that it wasn’t a surprise. 

Having Kyle’s hands on his bare skin was better than through the fabric of his shirt, which had pulled and dragged as he worked his hands into the muscles. Bit by bit, as Kyle worked, Simon melted into the table, relaxed and free of pain once more. 

“Simon?” Kyle called, and Simon blinked open his eyes, surprised to discover that he’d fallen asleep. “How’re you feeling?”

He yawned. “Good.”

Kyle chuckled. “I can tell you’re feeling much more relaxed. We’re all done.”

Simon was able to sit up on his own, and Kyle handed him his shirt, which he slipped back over his head with surprising ease.

“So, it looks like we’re about a month between appointments. Did you want to go ahead and just book something now? If you need something sooner than that, you can always call me, but I think having something scheduled in advance would be best.”

Simon agreed, seeing the logic in just making the appointment before it was strictly necessary. “Mornings are better,” he said, and Kyle nodded.

“Was this a good time for you, then? I can come by earlier.”

“No, 11:00 is good. Gives me some leeway if I’m having a hard time.”

“Were you having a hard time today?” Simon hesitated before admitting he was. “You don’t have to wait until your pain is at a certain threshold if you need treatment, Simon,” Kyle said gently. “I’m here to help you.”

“Right,” Simon said, ducking his head to avoid Kyle’s eyes. He stood from the massage table and went to find his wallet. 

Date set and payment exchanged, Simon watched as Kyle broke down the massage table, admiring the bunch and flex of the muscles in his arms and back as he did. He knew he was staring, but couldn’t drag his eyes away. If Kyle could feel Simon watching him, he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll check in again tomorrow just to see how you’re feeling, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Take it easy,” Kyle said with a wave as he stepped through the door and into the hallway.

> How did your appointment go?

< Is it wrong that I’m attracted to my massage therapist?

> You’re not!

< You should see him, Johnny.

> Ask him out!

< Seems a bit inappropriate, don’t you think? Wouldn’t I have to find someone else?

> Seems worth it to me.

< Johnny… you know how hard this was for me.

> Och, I know, Simon. I just want to see you both healthy *and* happy.

Simon appreciated that his friend only wanted the best for him, but the idea of having to find a new massage therapist left a sour taste in his mouth. What he really needed to do was get a grip. Someone like Kyle being interested in someone like Simon? 

He was dreaming. 

Chapter Text

Over the next few months, Simon and Kyle continue their sessions. Simon’s mobility continued to improve and his base pain level continued to decrease. His crush on Kyle, on the other hand, was only getting worse. The way the man was so supportive and respectful of Simon’s boundaries made Simon want him around more. And as their sessions progressed, Simon began to feel more and more comfortable around him, cracking jokes that Kyle laughed at, even when they weren’t funny, offering Kyle tea or something before or after their session just to prolong the interaction that much longer. 

Simon thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something happening on Kyle’s end, too. Kyle’s telephone check ins the day after appointments, while still brief, felt more like friends talking, like there was a reluctance on both ends for the call to end so soon, hanging silences they were both waiting for the other to fill.

The idea that someone like Kyle might be interested in Simon was beginning to feel less like a delusion and more like a tangible possibility.

A couple weeks after their most recent session, Simon was out running errands when he spotted Johnny in the window of a nearby pub, and decided to stop in to say hello. He wove through the tables towards where Johnny was sitting, coming to a complete standstill a few feet away when he saw who Johnny was with.

There were a number of perfectly reasonable explanations that came to mind, but the one that Simon couldn’t brush away was that what he was witnessing was a date, and the stab of jealousy and betrayal was instantaneous.

He approached the table cautiously, eyes bouncing between the two men sitting together. “What’s all this then?”

Two sets of eyes turned to look at Simon, both wide with surprise. “Simon!” Johnny said. “What’re you doing here?”

“Saw you from outside,” Simon replied. “Thought I’d come say hi.” He tried to force a smile, but he could tell it was more of a grimace. “How do you know Johnny, Kyle?”

“We’re friends, Simon,” Kyle said simply.

“What?”

“Gaz, Simon,” Johnny said. “I’ve told you about Gaz before.”

Of course Johnny had told him about Gaz. He’d heard so much about the other man he felt like he knew him. Turned out he did. “So when you included Kyle on the list of recommendations you gave me, that wasn’t by accident.”

“I included him because he’s good at his job, and I didn’t think it would be an issue to refer you to my friend. I had no idea if you’d call him or not,” Johnny said, defensively. “I gave you a short list and you made the choice yourself.”

That much was true. No one forced Simon to call Kyle, but given the circumstances he suddenly felt like he’d been subtly manipulated, that the implicit trust he had put in Kyle had been betrayed.

“Why did you never tell me that Kyle and Gaz were the same person?”

“Didn’t seem important.”

“Seems awfully important to me. Would have made me a lot more comfortable a lot sooner if I’d known he was your friend I’d heard so much about. Given us a point of familiarity to work from.” Simon swallowed. “I told you that I was attracted to him,” he said without thinking about the fact that Kyle was sitting right there, listening. “Did you keep it a secret so you could take that information and have a nice laugh together about it? Snicker about how pathetic I was pining for him?”

Johnny swallowed hard as a wash of hurt crossed his face and his eyes quickly became glassy with tears. “Christ, Simon. I’d never do something like to you. I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that.”

Guilt stabbed at Simon. He knew Johnny would never do something so heartless, but he didn’t understand why Johnny hadn’t just been honest with him. And the way he was playing it off made Simon feel like it was on purpose.

“I’m gonna go to the loo,” Johnny said as he abruptly rose from his seat, disappearing amid the tables without further comment. 

“Let him go,” Kyle said gently, halting Simon when he made a move to follow after. “I think he deserves a minute.”

Simon shifted his weight, feeling uncomfortable hovering next to the table after making a scene. A few of the nearby patrons were casting curious looks in their direction. “Did you want to join us?” Kyle asked. “Seems like you’re doing good today.”

Simon hesitated. He didn’t feel like he deserved the invitation after what he’d just said. But Kyle was already shifting into another chair, patting the seat he’d just vacated. When Simon eventually slid into the vacated spot, Kyle gave him a soft smile. “Can we order something for you?”

“Bourbon, please.”

Kyle waved a server over and ordered another round.

The table was silent as they waited for their drinks to arrive. Simon didn’t know what to say, and Kyle seemed content to let the silence hang. 

They thanked the server when they arrived with their drinks a few minutes later, Johnny still conspicuously absent. . 

“If you don’t want to use me as your massage therapist anymore, I understand.”

Simon looked up at that. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your reaction to learning that Johnny and I are friends was pretty intense. If you’re not comfortable working with me anymore, I can refer you to someone else. If it helps at all, I had no idea that Johnny had referred you to me.”

“I’m not bothered that you’re friends,” Simon said. “I don’t want to be referred out.”

“Okay. Just want to make sure.”

Simon played with his cup, keeping his eyes trained on the table. He bounced his leg against the rail of the chair beneath the table. He felt incredibly awkward sitting there with Kyle like everything was normal, like Johnny wasn’t in the loo because Simon lost his head. He knocked his glass back, draining its contents. 

“I think I need to go,” he said. “Sorry I interrupted you two.”

He was out of his chair and disappearing into the tables before Kyle had an opportunity to object. Before he left, he stopped by the toilets, opening the door but not going inside. “Johnny?”

“Go away, Simon,” Johnny said, and Simon could hear the way his voice was choked and there was another sharp stab of guilt. 

“Come round to mine later. Please.” There was no response, and so Simon let the door creak closed, and he made his way out onto the street and back to his flat.

Johnny arrived at Simon’s flat a few hours later. Simon was thankful, if a little surprised, that Johnny had come at all. He would have understood if his friend had opted to ice him out for his behaviour. Johnny held himself stiff, only offering Simon a grunt in greeting as he stepped inside. He slipped off his shoes, and found a spot on the sofa, arms crossed over his chest. Simon followed behind feeling the knot that had been sitting heavy in his stomach since the pub tighten further. He took a seat across from Johnny, hands hanging between his knees. The two men looked at each other for a long moment without speaking, Johnny’s anger filling the room like a dense fog.

Simon spoke first.

“Johnny, I’m sorry.”

“You blood fucking well better be,” Johnny all but shouted in response. “Christ alive, Simon, I can’t believe in all the years that we’ve known each other that you would ever think so low of me that I’d talk about you behind your fuckin’ back like that.” He stood from his spot on the sofa, pacing around the living room as he spoke. “You’re such a paranoid fuckin’ bastard. You find one thing and blow it into some god damned conspiracy! Yes, I intentionally referred you to Gaz, because he’s a damn good massage therapist, and because I want to help you . Do I know that Gaz is fuckin’ gorgeous? Of course. Did I maybe, somewhere, in the back of my mind, hope you hit off and get you out of the damned dating rut you’ve been in because you never leave your fuckin’ flat? Maybe. But I wasn’t going to push you into anything. I didn’t–I don’t–want to interfere in your love life.”

He turned on his heel, pointing a finger in Simon’s face. “And I still don’t think it is important that I never told you that Kyle is Gaz and vice versa. I don’t think it would have made a lick of difference in your comfort level if you knew he was my mate.”

“Knowing he was your friend that you talked so highly of would have made a lot of difference, actually,” Simon argued. “I’ve listened to you talk about Gaz so much I feel like I practically know the man.”

“You have an artificial picture of who he is!” Johnny returned. “What if I’d built up this expectation in your mind that he didn’t live up to? Would have ruined the whole damn thing and you wouldn’t trust my recommendations in the future.”

“That’s not true!” Simon cried. “I trust your judgement implicitly, Johnny. You’ve proven you have good instincts again and again.”

“Then why don’t you trust that my instinct on this was good, too? Why don’t you trust that I had a good reason to keep ‘Kyle The Massage Therapist’ separate from ‘Gaz My Mate’?”

Johnny was right. If he’d chosen to withhold information from Simon, he did it for a good reason.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said again. He rubbed his hands over his knees, dropping his eyes to the carpet. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I’ve been a proper knobhead.”

Johnny stepped into Simon’s space, his feet filling Simon’s vision before Johnny dropped to his knees in front of Simon. “You’re my best mate, Simon Riley. I really do just want you to be happy.”

While Simon continued to feel like an idiot a thought occurred to him. “I put you as my emergency contact.” Johnny snorted at the confession. “Kyle would have seen your name. Why didn’t he say anything about knowing you?”

“That’s not a question I can answer,” Johnny said matter-of-factly. “I assume because I told him you’re a private person and he’s a professional and didn’t want to ask something that might have made you uncomfortable.”

That made sense, and Simon mentally kicked himself for not considering it.

“You talk to him about me?” 

“Sometimes. You’re a big part of my life, Simon. Would be hard to leave you out completely. But I don’t say much. I know you’d not be comfortable with it.”

The day had been a lot and he was still trying to grapple with the fact that the massage therapist he’d been seeing for several months now was also his best friend’s best friend, and how the whole picture fitted together.

“Can we order some take away or something and watch a film?” Johnny suggested, a signal that things between them had been resolved. “Or I can get out of your hair, if you’d prefer.”

“Take away and a film sounds brilliant,” Simon answered, relief flooding through him at the change in Johnny’s demeanour. “And I like having you around. You know that.”

As Simon lay in his bed that night, Soap snoring on the sofa in the living room beneath a pile of blankets, he grabbed his phone and opened his messages with Kyle. It was late. And while Simon knew it wouldn’t matter if Kyle saw his message in the morning, he hoped that Kyle would see it and respond. 

< Sorry about earlier. 

> What’s to be sorry for?

The response was immediate and Simon shifted in bed to sit up against his pillows.

< You don’t have to pretend like I didn’t act like a right wanker.

> You’re right. You did.

> But I can understand what you might have thought when you saw Johnny and me together.

< You don’t have to coddle me.

> Oh? Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was just acknowledging your feelings.

Simon rolled onto his side. He didn’t know how to handle Kyle’s forthrightness. 

> Simon?

< Did you know who I was? The first time you came to my flat?

> Kind of? I saw Johnny’s name on your intake form as your emergency contact. He’s only ever mentioned you in passing, so I assumed you were the Simon in question, but I didn’t know anything more than that.

> He mentions you from time to time. He said that you’re a private person, so when he does talk about you, he tends to be brief about it.

> I can tell that Johnny cares about you, Simon. He’d never betray your trust.

> Can I call you?

Simon said yes, and a moment later his phone was buzzing with a number he didn’t recognize. He accepted the call and sank down against his pillows, getting comfortable.

“Calling you from my personal number. Hope that’s okay,” Kyle said and his voice was warm and deep.

“Of course,” Simon said.

“Did you really tell Johnny that you’re attracted to me?” The question is abrupt and unexpected. But there was no judgement in Kyle’s voice, only curiosity, perhaps a note of hopefulness, though Simon wasn’t sure if he was just projecting.

Simon swallowed, could feel his ears getting hot. “Yeah,” he admitted.

“I know that you don’t want to be referred to someone else, but–”

Oh, no . 

“But what?” Simon prompted, voice small.

There was the sound of shifting fabric, and Kyle cleared his throat. “But I think it might be appropriate to do so.”

“What for!?” The vehemence of Simon’s response surprised them both. He slapped a hand over his mouth, straining his ears for any sign of movement from Johnny in the living room.

“Well…” Kyle continued, “it just so happens that I’m attracted to you, too, Simon.”

“You–what?” He was practically whispering.

“I like you.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough to know that I’d like to get to know you more. You know, I don’t actually do follow up calls for any of my other clients.” There’s a long pause as Simon processed that information. When he didn’t reply, Kyle continued. “Look, I get the sense that you don’t trust easily, and I know you have difficulty with touch. The man who trained me is taking new clients right now, and I think he’d be a really great fit for you. His name is John Price. He’s ex-military, too, and his approach is very similar to mine. If you’re open to it, I can arrange a hand off meeting so you can decide for yourself if he’d be a suitable replacement.”

“What if I decide he’s not?”

He could hear the smile in Kyle’s voice when he replied. “I don’t think that’ll be the case. And I can help find someone else if it is. You’ve been doing really well these last few months, so I think if there’s a slight delay in your treatment, it won’t affect your progress too much.”

“Okay,” Simon agreed.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m open to meeting this Price at least.”

“Brilliant. I’ll make the arrangements.”

There was silence as the conversation came to a halt, but like Kyle’s telephone check ins, it was clear that neither were prepared to hang up the phone.

“What do you like about me?” Simon asked abruptly. 

Simon wasn’t sure what he meant by the question, wasn’t sure what kind of answer he wanted Kyle to give him. He waited with bated breath for Kyle to respond.

“What kind of answer are you looking for here?” Kyle asked cautiously. “Because I can definitely tell you things to make you feel good about yourself if that’s what you need. Or I can be honest.”

“Be honest.” He hesitated. “As honest as you feel comfortable being.”

He listens to the slow inhalation of Kyle’s breathing as he considers his response.

“I like that you’re willing to make yourself vulnerable. In our first session it was obviously hard for you to have me touch you, that you’re not someone who accepts touch easily, and yet you didn’t tap out or say no. You told me the truth and let me in so I could find a way to help you.”

Simon wanted to tell Kyle how much he wanted Kyle to touch him the first time he saw him, but didn't.

“I like that you’re straight forward, at least mostly. I mean, not many people would flatly ask someone what they think of them after having a public blow out the same day.”

That was true, and while Simon felt anxious about what Kyle might say, he wanted to know what the other man thought about him..

“I like that despite that, you asked anyway.” Simon smiled at the softness in Kyle’s voice. He continued, like a crack had formed in the damn and he was unable to stem the flow. “I like that you tell the worst jokes I’ve ever heard. I like that Johnny cares about you so much, and that you clearly care about him. You also have a great ass.”

The last bit startled a laugh out of Simon and he clapped a hand over his mouth once again, muffling the sounds of his chortling.

“Yeah?” he said, voice dipping deep.

“God, Simon. You have no idea,” Kyle replied with a bitten back groan.

“Tell me.”

Heat climbs up his throat as he says the words, his tone unmistakable.

“Fuck, Simon,” Kyle answered sounding breathless. “In that second appointment, when you took your shirt off”

Simon vividly remembered the way that Kyle’s eyes had gone wide, the way he’d chalked it up to surprise at Simon’s newfound comfort or the mess of scars that covered his body.

“You’re a work of art.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Yeah?” Kyle breathed. “Tell me what you like about me.”

Turnabout's fair play, and all that.

“I like the way you respect my boundaries. You don’t push me for more than I can handle. I like–love–your laugh.” Simon shifted in bed, sinking deeper into the pillows. “I like the way your trackies hug your legs and how your tight shirts show off your arms and shoulders.

“My laugh, aye?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you started telling me all those terrible jokes?”

“If they were so terrible, why did you laugh?” Simon teased.

“Because you love my laugh, apparently,” Kyle said, and the soft sound of his laughter through the phone made Simon’s heart beat faster.

Simon eyed the video call button, hesitating for only a moment before tapping it, the screen of his phone shifting, his own face visible to him in the dark. Kyle answered quickly, a warm smile on his face where it was pressed into a pillow.

“Hiya.”

“Hi.”

Chapter Text

Simon woke to a knock at his door and Johnny peering in at him from the hall. 

“Y’awake, Simon?”

Simon groaned, rubbing at tired eyes. “Yeah.”

“Did you want to go get breakfast? I invited Gaz. Hope that’s alright.”

Simon’s stomach swooped at the mention of Gaz– Kyle –who he’d fallen asleep video chatting with sometime around two a.m. After Simon had shifted the conversation from just voice to video–he’d been greeted by the sight of Kyle also in bed, bare shoulders and chest partially visible–the conversation transitioned rather quickly from light flirting, and Simon had cum hard with his hand around his cock and Kyle coaxing him through his orgasm with quiet encouragement. 

“Yeah, that’s alright,” Simon said, hiding the blush at the memories still fresh in his mind in his pillow. “Give me a bit to get myself cleaned up, yeah?”

“I said we’d meet him in an hour, so you’ve got some time.”

Johnny closed the door and Simon dug around in his sheets in search of his phone, checking the time. It was barely past nine o’clock. He sat up, pushing his hand through his hair, grimacing at the lingering stickiness in his underwear. He climbed out of bed, wincing a bit as the muscles in his lower back twinged–he was close to his usual appointment time, and his body was reminding him that they were still necessary. The awkward position he’d held as he half-lay in bed talking to Kyle likely didn’t help.

He plugged in his phone to charge before shuffling to the bathroom to shower. Johnny must not have been awake for very long. The bathroom was still humid and the mirror was still partially fogged from his own shower. Simon stripped out of his clothes, tossing them in the hamper, and stepped beneath the scalding spray. 

When he emerged from his bedroom, still lightly damp but clean and dressed, Johnny was lounging on the sofa watching a football game with the sound off. He craned his head over the back of the sofa at the sound of Simon’s approach and smiled. “Ready?”

“Ready. Where are we going?”

“Claudette’s,” Johnny answered. “Like we’d go anywhere else, Simon,” he added with a shake of his head.

Simon did one final check for keys, wallet, phone, and then they were heading down the stairs and out onto the street to where Johnny had parked his car the evening before. 

The roads were relatively quiet. Mid-morning on a weekday meant most people had already gone to work, and so there wasn’t the usual rush of cars on the road. Johnny’s phone pinged as he drove. “Mind checking that for me?” he asked as he watched the road, waiting to make a right hand turn through an intersection.

It was a message from Gaz, letting him know that he’d arrived at the restaurant already and had secured them a table. 

“Let him know that we’re on our way,” Johnny instructed as he maneuvered the car down the road, coming to a stop at a red light. 

Simon did as asked, typing the message out on Johnny’s phone. “Kyle wants to refer me to someone else,” Simon said softly as he set Johnny’s phone into one of the cup holders.

“Oh? What for?” Johnny asked, slightly distracted as he focused on driving.

A small smile played on Simon's lips. ”Said he’s attracted to me, too.”

Johnny took his eyes off the road to glance across at Simon. He smacked the steering wheel, crowing triumphantly. “Atta boy, Simon! Pleased as punch to hear that, I am. Gaz is a great bloke.”

“So I’ve heard,” Simon said, amused. 

“Who’s he planning to refer you to?”

“Someone named John Price? Former military, Kyle’s mentor.”

Johnny hummed. “I met Price once or twice when Gaz was still doing his practicum. Seems a decent bloke. Do you have to wait until you’re set up with the new therapist before you two can go out?”

“I…don’t think so,” Simon admitted. “We, um…already–”

Johnny glanced at Simon again, giving him a scandalized look. “Already what? When did that happen?”

“Last night. After you’d gone to sleep. Didn’t mean for it. It just kind of happened.”

Johnny chuckled. “No wonder you weren’t fussed about my inviting Gaz out for breakfast then, you dog . Well, I’m happy for you, either way, Simon.”

“Thank you,” Simon replied earnestly. His cheeks felt hot, and he looked down at his lap where his fingers were twisted in the fabric of his track pants. “If you hadn’t given me Kyle’s details initially, well…who knows where we’d be right now.”

“Keep that in mind when you’re thanking me at your wedding,” Johnny answered as he pulled into a parking stall and put the car into park. 

Kyle waved as they entered the restaurant, and they wove through the mostly empty tables to where he was seated, the table sun soaked and looking out onto the street beyond. “Hiya,” Kyle greeted as they took their seats. Simon hesitated, unsure if he should sit next to Johnny or Kyle. They both give him an inquisitive look as he stood there, hand on the back of the chair next to Johnny but making no move to sit down.

“You okay there, mate?” Johnny asked, which prompted Simon to pull the chair out and sink down into it.

“Yeah, fine,” he returned. His eyes flickered across the table to Kyle who winked. 

A minute later a young woman came by the table to take their drink orders–coffees all around–before leaving them alone with the menu. 

“I’m starved,” Johnny announced, which made both Simon and Kyle snort softly, the proclamation clearly familiar to them both. 

“Hardly a surprise to hear,” Kyle snarked. He found Simon’s eyes across the table, who couldn’t help but smile.

“Och, fuck off, you,” Johnny returned affectionately. He bumped his elbow against Simon’s. “What’re you getting?” he asked as though he didn’t know that Simon was going to order what he always did. 

“Beans on toast,” Simon answered, and Johnny scoffed.

“You’re such a predictable fucker.”

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Kyle interjected. “If you don’t order a full English then I’ll eat my shoe.”

Johnny scowled at that, closing his menu and setting in on the table. 

The server returned to the table and they submitted their order: Simon, beans on toast; Johnny, a full English; Kyle, a half English.

“And you’re giving me shite about what I ordered,” Johnny said after they handed their menus to the server and had the table to themselves once more.

“There’s nothing wrong with what your ordered, Johnny, it’s just that I knew that’s what you were going to get.”

“Ach. Alright. Fine,” Johnny conceded.

Their breakfast was casual and unhurried. It was nice to be out with someone that wasn’t just Johnny for once – not that Simon was going out that often unless he had errands to do. He mostly listened as Kyle and Johnny talked and ribbed each other, drifting in the comforting sound of their voices overlapping, blending with the unobtrusive music playing on the radio overhead. 

“What do you think, Simon?” Kyle asked, and Simon blushed when he realised he had not been listening to their conversation for some time.

“I’m sorry. Whassat?”

Kyle smiled, and Simon blushed harder having it directed at him full force. “I asked if Thursday was a good day for you to meet John.”

“Oh. Thursday should be fine,” Simon said without checking his availability. He knew it was open.

“Alright. I’ll talk to John and set it up. Text you the details.”

The server came by and left them the check, and they each pulled out their wallets to deposit what they owed on the table. 

“Need to use the loo before we go,” Johnny said. “Meet you outside?”

“Cheers. See you out there,” Kyle said. 

He watched as Johnny disappeared down the hallways towards the bathroom before taking Simon’s hand in his own and guiding him outside. He didn’t let go when they paused on the street just past the door. “Had fun last night,” Kyle said lowly, and Simon could feel heat creeping along his cheeks again. “God, you’re pretty when you blush, did y’know?” The compliment only made Simon blush harder, and Kyle let out a quiet groan, leaning in to press a soft kiss against Simon’s lips. The gentle brush was electric, and Simon’s fingers tightened around Kyle’s own. “Can’t wait until I can take you out for real,” Kyle continued, whispering the words against Simon’s ear. “Until I can touch you in ways that are less than professional.”

Christ, Simon was going to get hard on the sidewalk if Kyle kept up like this.

He was, thankfully, saved by Johnny emerging from the restaurant, taking in their clasped hands and close proximity. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“No,” they said at the same time, Kyle taking a respectable step away from Simon but still not releasing his hand. Johnny simply rolled his eyes, giving Simon a playful elbow in the side as he stepped past them.

“Where’d you park, Gaz?” Johnny asked as they approached an intersection. 

“Near the post office.”

“We’re the same way, aren’t we, Simon. Gaz can walk with us.”

Kyle gave Simon’s hand a light squeeze and when Simon looked in his direction, he winked.

When they reached their vehicles, Kyle informed them he couldn’t linger, that he had a client appointment in an hour and it was a bit of a trek to get there. “Text you later, Simon,” he called as he ducked inside his car. 

“What was all that on the sidewalk, then?” Johnny asked as he unlocked the car and they climbed inside.

At the rate that Simon was blushing this morning he wondered if he might spontaneously combust from embarrassment. “Nothing,” he replied, keeping his eyes averted.

Johnny snickered as he started the car. “Right.”

The hand-off meeting with Price was scheduled for lunch on Thursday at a little cafe near Simon’s flat, which Kyle had chosen for Simon’s convenience, and, he admitted, because he’d been wanting to try it out ever since he’d first seen it when he started seeing Simon professionally.

Simon ordered a tea and scone as he waited for Kyle and John to arrive. He didn’t have to wait long, the pair arriving only a few minutes after the items had been delivered to the table. 

John was a tall man, broad shoulders, narrow waist. He had a full beard, neatly trimmed, and worn in a mutton chops style. His sandy brown hair was cut through with grey and white. He extended a hand to Simon as Kyle introduced them, and Simon noted his firm grip, recognized the familiar calluses on his fingers and palms indicative of years handling guns.

“Nice to meet you, Simon,” he said as he sat. His voice was a deep rumble. 

“You as well,” Simon returned. 

Kyle took the seat between them and Simon had to resist the urge to reach out and take his hand. He glanced at Kyle who smiled softly and winked. Clearly something Simon should expect to get used to.

The two men ordered drinks and food for themselves, and then they got to it. Kyle did most of the talking, explaining Simon’s ailments and what he’d been doing to treat it, noting how he’d been responding.

“How are you feeling today?” John asked. Simon recognized the question for what it was: where are you on the pain scale.

“‘Bout a four?” he replied. “But I can tell that things are starting to tighten up on me.”

“That’s great news!” Kyle interjected in response to his pain number. “In the past you’ve been at a six well before this time of the month.”

It was true. The day of the meeting was a few days after what was Simon’s normal appointment time, something they’d bumped for the sake of the meeting. 

“Do you have any questions for me?” John asked Simon.

Simon considered. He’d been thinking of what would be appropriate to ask since they’d scheduled the meeting, and hadn’t come up with anything that felt necessary. “Did Kyle tell you I’m a bit touch averse?”

John nodded. “Every patient has boundaries that need to be respected. Even non-military folks are sometimes a bit wary. It is a bit weird having a stranger put their hands on you while you’re in a vulnerable position.”

Simon hadn’t considered the vulnerability of being face down on the massage table, a fact that surprised him, given his often paranoid tendencies. He was far more hung up on the being touched by a stranger part of the arrangement. 

“Kyle warns me first before he touches me and always talks me through what he’s doing so I’m not surprised. Is that something you’re okay with?”

Price nodded. “Of course. I’m happy to accommodate whatever you need to make sure you feel comfortable. If you need steady conversation or would prefer me to shut my yap, just let me know.”

“And you’re okay coming to my flat? I’m not great with…change.”

Price smiled. “Yes, I’m happy to make house calls. I understand it’s not always easy to go to someone else when your body is in pain, and I understand there’s sometimes a hesitation about venturing too far out of your comfort space.”

“Kyle mentioned that you’re ex-military as well. What area of the service were you in? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Don’t mind at all. I was SAS. Aged out, as it were. What about yourself? If you don't’ mind my asking.”

“SAS as well, actually,” Simon said. “Medical discharge on my part, as you probably can guess.” This shared commonality made Simon relax, and he mentally flipped Johnny off for saying that a shared commonality wouldn’t have helped make him more comfortable around Kyle. 

Between their shared military service history, and Price’s open and affable demeanour, Simon feel comfortable enough that by the end of the lunch hour it was agreed that John would take over for Kyle, and they made a first appointment before leaving just in case Simon had a pain flare in the next few days.

“Can I walk you home?” Kyle asked once they’d said goodbye to Price.

“You don’t have any clients today?”

“Not for a little bit. I can go, if you’d like.”

Simon took Kyle’s hand, lacing their fingers together in answer. Kyle smiled, leaning into Simon as they turned to walk in the direction of Simon’s flat. 

When the door was closed behind them, Simon swallowed, feeling Kyle’s eyes on him. Neither of them let the other’s hand go. They hovered in the entry way until Kyle gently tugged Simon’s hand, drawing his attention, and when he turned to look at him, Kyle slid his hand around the back of Simon’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. 

This was much different than the gentle touch of lips outside the diner a few days earlier. Kyle’s fingers slipped between the strands of Simon’s hair, nails scratching pleasantly at his scalp as he teased at Simon’s lips with his tongue. Simon felt drunk beneath Kyle’s touch, letting his eyes fall closed as his lips parted to allow the teasing sweep of Kyle’s tongue between them. They both moaned quietly at the touch, and then Simon was moving them until Kyle was pressed back against the door and Simon’s hands gripped at Kyle’s hips. 

Neither did anything to move further, although it was evident they both wanted to in the way Kyle’s fingers teased at the hem of Simon’s t-shirt and the way that Simon squeezed then released his grip on Kyle’s hips. Instead they tried to content themselves  with tasting and teasing each other with lips, teeth and tongue. 

Simon leaned his head against Kyle’s shoulder when they parted for breath. Kyle pet his fingers through Simon’s hair, stroking the nape of his neck. “This may have been a bad idea,” he said breathlessly, realising too late that it was the wrong thing to say when Simon stiffened beneath his hands and tried to move away. 

“I knew this was too good to be true,” Simon said under his breath. He mentally berated himself for believing that someone like Kyle was actually interested in someone like him. The real reason Kyle wanted to refer him to John was because he was a weird recluse with touch issues.

“Shit. No! Simon! I didn’t mean it like that.” He reached for Simon but stopped as Simon took several steps away until there was what felt like a chasm between them.

Simon crossed his arms over his chest, and seemed to fold in on himself, making himself smaller despite his size. 

Kyle pressed his hands against his eyes, cursing under his breath. “Fuck. Did I just go and bugger this up after we just got started?” He took a step forward, stopping when Simon took a mirroring step back. “I just meant that coming back to your flat was a bad idea. I want to do more than just kiss you in the front entryway. And I can tell you do, too. But I have appointments this afternoon, and putting myself in such a tempting situation was not a good call.” 

Simon didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. Kyle wasn’t sure if he was even aware Kyle was still there.

“Alright. Please know that I do not think this–” he gestured between the two of them, “--is a bad idea. I want this–want you –so much. I just have awful fucking timing.” He sighed when Simon continued to maintain his distance, immobile with his arms wrapped around himself. “I’ll go, then. But I’ll call you later. Maybe we can plan a real date.”

He opened the door, glancing back at Simon one last time before letting out a small sigh and stepping into the hallway. 

It was nearly fifteen minutes before Simon relaxed, let his arms drop down next to him. He suddenly felt exhausted. He trudged towards his bedroom where he crawled into his unmade bed, pulling the sheet over his body and falling into sleep.

When he woke it was dark outside. His stomach grumbled. He must have missed tea.

He extricated himself from the sheets that had become twisted around his legs and wandered into the kitchen where he set the kettle on to boil. Simon opened the freezer and pulled out a box of french toast sticks, setting several into the toaster. As he waited for the kettle and the toaster, he pulled out his phone. There were five missed calls–three from Kyle, two from Johnny–and about a dozen unread text messages between the two of them.

The messages from Johnny were a series of increasingly panicked questions.

> Kyle called me and said something happened. Is everything okay?

> Simon, is everything okay?

> Simon?

> Simon??

> Simon Riley, you had better not be ignoring me!

> God as my witness, Simon Riley, answer your fucking phone!

> You better not be dead.

The messages from Kyle were less extreme, but made Simon ache nonetheless.

> Hey, I called but you didn’t answer. I’m sorry about earlier. Please call me.

> Simon, please let me know I didn’t fuck this up between us.

> I still really want an opportunity to take you out on that date. 

> Please, Simon. 

> Just call me.

The kettle finished boiling and the toaster sprung just as he made it to the end of his messages. He poured the water over his tea bag and set the french toast sticks on a plate, drowning them in a generous glug of syrup. He took his drink and meal to the sofa, setting them on the coffee table. 

Licking syrup from his thumb, he opened Kyle’s contact and hit call. It was only two rings before Kyle’s voice answered, sounding somewhat out of breath on the other end of the line. “ Simon .”

Chapter Text

Being honest with people about his insecurities was not something Simon was good at. It was only through sheer force of will that he and Johnny had been friends as long as they had. Johnny was stubborn and when Simon shut down or tried to pull away he chipped at the wall Simon built until there was space for them to talk through the issue. This wasn’t to say that Johnny didn’t respect Simon’s boundaries; he wouldn’t have remained his friend if that was the case. It was more that Johnny made Simon say what his boundaries were . “I’m not a bloody mind reader, Simon. I need you to talk to me.”

So when Simon calls Kyle, hears the breathless tone of his voice when he answers the phone, having to admit his weakness to him becomes all the harder. But Kyle doesn’t rush him, doesn’t even ask Simon for an explanation. “I’m so glad you called,” he said. There’s relief in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said weakly.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

Swallowing, Simon steeled himself. “No. I do. If…if we’re going to do this…you deserve an explanation for my behaviour.”

“Okay,” Kyle returned softly, giving Simon room to continue.

There was a pregnant pause as Simon collected his thoughts, and considered how best to explain what had happened that afternoon. “Since the first time you arrived at my flat, I was attracted to you. But I’m horrid and awkward, and you’re gorgeous and wonderful and kind, and I never considered there was ever a possibility that you might ever be attracted to me .” 

The self deprecation was thick in his voice. “But as time passed, I thought maybe, if I was reading the situation right–not that I’d ever be brave enough to act–and then you confirmed that I was, that you were– are –attracted to me, too. But because I can’t leave well enough alone, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. And even though all the signs and signals were pointing to things being good, when you said ‘this is a mistake’ it felt like you were confirming what I already knew. That I wasn’t good enough. That you could never really like me .”

He let out a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t have just shut down like that, but I couldn’t help it.”

Kyle was quiet for a long time. Simon realised that this was probably the most words he’d ever said to Kyle in all the time they’d known each other. He’d also dropped a bit of an emotional bombshell, and Kyle likely needed a moment to digest what he’d just heard. “Simon,” Kyle said softly. “Can I come ‘round? It’s not too late, is it?”

“I don’t know how you even want to see me right now,” Simon sighed.

“Unfortunately I can’t give you the hug it sounds like you badly need over the phone. If you don’t want me there, just say so.”

“I–I’d like it. If you came,” Simon admitted.

“I’ll be there shortly, then.”

They hung up the phone and Simon called Johnny while he waited. Simon paced a familiar path through his flat as he listened to the line ring. “You’re not dead then,” Johnny deadpanned when he answered.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said immediately, because it was the most important thing there was to say.

“Fuckin’ hell, Simon. I get a text from Gaz saying something happened, that he fucked up and you went all stonewall on him, and then I can’t get through to you to find out what the feck is going on.”

“I fell asleep,” Simon admitted. “I…” He sighed. “Kyle and I were…here at the flat.” Despite how good of friends they were, he wasn’t prepared to tell Johnny the specifics of what they’d been doing. “And he said something, and I just took it the wrong way and shut down on him. After he left, when I came back into myself, I went to have a lay down and I just conked out.”

Johnny let out a heavy sigh directly into the phone, and Simon had to pull his own away from his ear momentarily. “Have you at least talked to Gaz?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah. He’s on his way over, actually.” He chewed on the edge of his thumb as he pivoted on his heel, making another lap around the flat. “I’m sorry I caused you to worry.”

“I’m just glad to know you’re alright. Didn’t bleeding well know what to think.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon repeated.

“Aye, don’t need to apologise again, mate. I’ll let you go. Say hi to Gaz for me.”

After hanging up with Johnny, Simon continued his circuit through his flat, mind not particularly focused on any one thing, until the buzz of the front door drew him out of his stupor.

“Hiya,” Kyle said when Simon opened the door. He was dressed in black track pants and a light windbreaker over an Arsenal’s jersey. “Can I come in?”

Simon stepped aside, and Kyle followed, waiting for Simon to close the door before holding his arms open, giving Simon the choice of whether he wanted to accept Kyle’s embrace. 

Simon had never been one for hugs. They were a type of physical affection he endured for the sake of others. Even as a child he would remain stock still as his parents or his grandparents, or aunts and uncles, gripped his tiny body in an embrace he never returned. Thankfully as he grew older, full body embraces were less and less common, except from his mam or his gran, transitioning into firm hand pants on his back, which he still hated, but were more easily endured. 

So when Kyle opened his arms, Simon surprised himself when he hesitated for only a second before stepping into Kyle’s space, wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in the curve of Kyle’s neck. 

Kyle seemed equally surprised if the way he went still as Simon wrapped himself around him was anything to go by. Simon considered that perhaps the hug was more of an excuse for his return to Simon’s flat than a real offer of physical comfort. In any event, he wrapped his arms around Simon, simply holding him close. Simon took a deep breath, relaxing further against Kyle, tightening his hold around his waist.

They stood there for a long time, Simon’s breath warm and damp against Kyle’s throat. Eventually Simon pulled away of his own accord. He reached for Kyle’s hand and led them to the sofa where Kyle sat and Simon curled against him. 

This was something else that Simon hadn’t done with anyone in a long while. The last person he’d curled up with on the sofa had been Johnny during a brief period where they’d dated before ultimately deciding they were better as friends. 

Johnny was an intensely physical person, always needing to touch his partners. Even though Simon was able to grow used to Johnny’s touch, there were days when his aversion was so strong that he had to tell Johnny no, and couldn’t stomach the hurt look in his eye at the denial.

In the end, they’d decided together that as much as they cared about each other, their physical needs were too different, and it would be too difficult for them to find a common point that would work for them both. 

That had been several years ago. In the time since, Simon had dated only casually. He had a difficult time finding people he clicked with or felt comfortable enough around for a conversation about touch to take place, much less get to the snuggle-on-the-sofa phase of things. Even when Johnny came over, despite their history and how close they were, they still maintained a comfortable, respectable distance.

He wasn’t sure what it was about Kyle that made Simon feel so comfortable around him so quickly. Even when Simon had first laid eyes on Kyle in the hall before he’d ever put hands on him, there was something about him that wanted him to. It could be that the act of massage was similar to other forms of sensual touch, even though the intention behind them was different, but surely there had to be something more to it. 

Kyle reached for the remote and turned the television on, finding something that didn’t require too much attention, but wasn’t a total bore.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said eventually, cheek pressed against Kyle’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Simon. You’re forgiven.” Simon chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, dissecting the tone of Kyle’s voice for any sign of insincerity. If he was in Kyle’s place, would he forgive his behaviour so readily? He tucked the thought away for later, instead allowing himself to enjoy the moment without overthinking.

They remained there, watching replays of the day's football matches, volume turned low, the sportcaster’s voices little more than a dull hum. Kyle rubbed circles against Simon’s back, and Simon mimicked the action with his fingers against Kyle’s thigh.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Simon answered, tilting his head to look up at Kyle who had shifted to look down at Simon.

“Have you ever considered getting a pet?”

“What, like a dog?”

Kyle made a sound and shook his head. “I don’t think a dog would be good for you. A cat, maybe. They’re very intuitive creatures. And they don’t require quite as much hands-on management as a dog does.” 

“Do you have any pets?” Simon asked, redirecting the conversation somewhat.

“I used to have a dog, but she went with my ex when we split, unfortunately.”

An ex? Of course Kyle would have an ex. Not everyone was as socially inept as Simon. He wanted to ask about the ex. Was it a man or a woman? He didn’t want to assume that Kyle was gay. That was a conversation for another time. He instead he focused on the dog. “What was she like?”

Kyle’s face softened as he got lost in memory. “Her name is Cybil. She’s an Italian Greyhound. Sweetest thing you’ve ever met.” 

“Do you ever see her?” Simon immediately wished he could eat his words when he saw the way Kyle’s eyes shuttered and the soft fondness on his face hardened.

“Sometimes at the dog park. A few times around town. Things didn’t end well, so I never approach. But she seems to be doing well.”

“You miss her.”

“Yeah.”

“I had a dog once,” Simon said quietly. “When I was a kid. Just a mutt, nothing special. I think maybe it was some stray dog that my mam just started feeding and when she started staying around, no one kicked her out.”

“What was her name?” Kyle asked, stroking his fingers through Simon’s hair. 

Simon was quiet for a moment as he searched his memory. “I don’t remember if she had a name, actually. I think mam called her ‘Lady’.”

“What happened to her?”

Simon immediately regretted mentioning the dog when he was suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion. “She died,” he said tightly, ducking his head against Kyle’s shoulder and rubbing his cheek there.

Simon appreciated that Kyle was quick to pick up on his cues, that he recognised that they’d uncovered an old wound, and didn’t ask any further questions. Simon had barely thought about the dog since he was a child, and he was surprised at how the simple mention of her had affected him so strongly. 

Kyle traced his fingers up and down Simon’s back, the touch barely there and yet a grounding comfort. Simon felt like a moth drawn to a flame with the way he couldn’t avoid Kyle’s inexplicable pull. On the television they were showing the Play of the Game for a match between Manchester United and the Arsenals. It was an impressive steal and goal for the Arsenals right inside the Manchester zone, taking the game from a tie to a win for London. 

“You really think I’m a cat person?”

Kyle chuckled. “Maybe. But I think having someone or something around to keep you company would be good for you.”

“Are you not someone, then?”

“Simon…”

“I know this is…new. But I like having you around. You’re good for me.”

Kyle brushed his fingers through Simon’s hair again. “I like being around.”

“Yeah?” Simon said, voice low as he sat up on the sofa, bringing the faces closer together.

“Yeah.”

Simon closed the distance between them, pressing Kyle against the arm of the sofa as he brought their lips together, kissing Kyle with a soft intensity. So often in the past it was his partners who initiated things, Simon always needing to give his consent before they touched him so he didn’t recoil, even if he wanted them to touch him. With Kyle he was eager to feel the other man against him, to touch and map his body the way Kyle had already had the opportunity to do to him. Kyle returned the kiss, teasing his fingers through the hair at Simon’s nape. His lips were plush and soft against Simon’s own, firm but yielding. 

Simon slotted their legs together, pressing his thigh against Kyle’s groin, smiling against the other man’s lips when he gasped at the gentle contact. Kyle pressed his palms against Simon’s shoulders, easing him back as he pulled in a breath. “When I asked if I could come over, it wasn’t because I was hoping for a hookup.”

“Right,” Simon answered, pressing forward to resume their kiss.

Kyle held him back, giving him a serious look. “You know that, right? I just…I want you to know that I didn’t come over when you were being vulnerable with me because I was hoping for sex.”

“You’re not using me for my body,” Simon teased, pressing forward more in order to nip at Kyle’s lips. “Got it.” He squeezed Kyle’s hips where his hands held him steady against the sofa before pressing his thigh against Kyle’s groin again, drinking in the shaky moan Kyle let out at the contact.

“Simon, I’m serious.”

“Do you want to stop?”

Kyle laughed a little hysterically. “God no. I just want to make sure you know that my being here was not in hopes that whatever is about to happen would happen.”

“Okay,” Simon repeated. He kissed Kyle again, continuing the pressure of his thigh against Kyle’s groin. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” Kyle breathed, rolling his hips down against the pressure.

Kyle was so responsive, telling Simon so much with his body as well as his voice; soft moans, breathy gasps, the grip of his hand and the roll of his hips. Other partners always made Simon feel like he was deciphering a text in a language he didn’t understand. Johnny was an exception, always eager to tell Simon exactly where and how to touch him, showing him what he wanted, or sometimes just taking it.

Kyle seemed content to let Simon control the show, but the roadmap to his pleasure was easier to read.

“What would we have done if you hadn’t had to leave earlier?” Simon asked as he pressed a kiss beneath Kyle’s ear, hands simultaneously finding their way beneath his jersey. 

“What do you wish we’d have done?” Kyle gasped, tipping his head back to give Simon more access to his throat.

Simon chuckled. “Are you avoiding answering the question?”

Kyle hummed, carding his fingers through Simon’s hair once more. “Yes and no. More wondering what you would have allowed me to do to you. What you’d want me to do.” He drew Simon’s head up so he could see his eyes. “The list of things I want can’t be completed in a single afternoon.”

“Show me,” Simon said, kissing Kyle again briefly. “Please?”

“ Fuck . Which way’s the bedroom?”

The first thing Simon became aware of when he woke was the presence of another body in the bed with him. He glanced over his shoulder, trying his best not to disrupt his bedmate, relaxing when he saw that it was Kyle, and memories of the night before flooded in. 

Kyle remained asleep, arms hidden beneath the pillow in which his face was buried, soft snuffling snores emerging intermittently. The sheets were pooled around his waist and Simon let his eyes wander down his bare back, drinking in the lines and angles of muscular shoulders and the dip of his spine. Kyle’s bare back reminded Simon that he was similarly nude. 

He flushed warm at the memory of Kyle’s mouth on him, the way he’d brought Simon to a shaking orgasm. He’d wanted so much more, but even the ghost of Kyle’s touch against him as he came down was too much for him. He’d gotten Kyle off with his hand, an endless litany of praise at how beautiful Kyle was and the contrast of how soft and hard he was in Simon’s palm. 

Kyle shifted next to him, letting out a groan as he rolled over, stretching his arms over his head. Simon watched the shift of muscles in his stomach, the way the movement forced the sheets to dip lower, exposing the tantalizing treasure trail that went from Kyle’s belly button to beneath the sheets. 

“Morning,” Kyle said, catching Simon staring, smiling at the way Simon darted his eyes away. “You’re allowed to look.” Kyle took Simon’s hand, drawing it to rest on his chest, holding it there lightly. “You can touch, too, if you want.”

Simon did want to. He left his palm where it rested on Kyle’s chest, tracing blunt fingernails against the skin until it began to pebble into gooseflesh. He trailed his hand down towards Kyle’s stomach, teasing at the hair of his treasure trail. Kyle hummed as he watched Simon explore, adjusting his position to be more open, to give Simon better access.

He licked his lips when Kyle bucked his hips slightly as Simon’s fingers reached the sheet just covering his groin. “Fuck, Simon,” Kyle breathed. 

“Can I?”

“ Please ,” Kyle answered.

Simon’s hand disappeared beneath the sheet, the fabric falling away as he moved lower, fingers finding Kyle’s cock, hardening rapidly beneath Simon’s touch. There was something so alien about someone else’s parts. So similar to his own, and yet so different. Kyle’s cock was an average length, but it was thick, filling Simon’s hand pleasantly. He stroked his fist along the length, and Kyle shoved a fist in his mouth to muffle his noises, even though the only one there to hear him was Simon. 

He didn’t have a lot of experience with oral sex. His back made the positioning difficult, and he had an awful gag reflex, which made the experience mostly unpleasant for himself and his partners the few times he’d tried. Wanting to try, he moved to lay down on his stomach between Kyle’s legs, watching the way Kyle’s eyes went wide.

“You don’t have to!” Kyle assured hurriedly, but Simon brushed him off.

“I want to. I’m not very good, so don’t expect much.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Kyle croaked.

Simon gave him a doubtful look, but leaned down to swipe his tongue experimentally across the head. Kyle pulled in a sharp breath, and encouraged, Simon wrapped his lips around the head and gave it a gentle suck. He tried to take more of Kyle in his mouth, could already feel his gag reflex rejecting his efforts, eyes beginning to water. He pulled off after only a couple centimeters, gasping wetly, drool dripping down his chin. 

“Simon, you don’t have to–” Kyle tried again, but Simon was determined. 

He took Kyle in his mouth once more, teasing the head and the underside with his tongue the best he could, working the rest of the length with his fist. He tried again to take more, and once again his gag reflex objected, eyes blurry with unshed tears, forcing Simon off with another wet gasp. His fist and Kyle’s cock were drenched in his saliva.

Kyle was fisting the bed sheets as he watched what was surely Simon’s pathetic attempts to blow him. When Simon attempted a third time, Kyle came abruptly, surprising them both. His spend caught on Simon’s cheek and chin, catching on his swollen pink lips, making him look obscene.

“Bloody hell, Simon,” Kyle said, pulling him up the bed and drawing him into a messy kiss, unbothered by his own cum on Simon’s face. 

“It wasn't bad?”

Kyle chuckled. “Was it the best blowjob I've ever had? No. But, Christ, Simon–” he pulled Simon into another messy kiss. “I enjoyed it.” He wiped wetness from Simon's lashes, and a smear of cum from his cheek. “You really didn't have to.”

“I know,” Simon replied simply. 

Kyle drew Simon down to lay against him, petting at his hair. “You know, I really wanted to take you on a proper date before we got here, but I won't complain about the detour we've taken.”

Of all of Kyle's touches, Simon liked this one the best. The gentle caress of his fingers against his scalp, the occasional scratch of nails, was soothing.

“Do you think you’re up for going out tonight?”

“Should be alright,” Simon replied. “Depends what you have in mind, I s’pose.”

“Dinner, obviously. Maybe mini golf I'd you're up for it. Maybe a movie if you're not.”

“Mini golf would probably be better for me since it has me moving around. Cinema seats are uncomfortable and are hard for me for long goes.”

Kyle hummed his agreement. “Dinner, then, and then let's plan for mini golf but just play it by ear, yeah? I can pick you up around seven?”

“Sounds good.”

“I'll let you pick where we go for dinner, so I don't pick somewhere you actually hate by accident.” He grinned at Simon and winked.

Kyle left a short while after, having some client appointments to attend to. He'd kissed Simon at the door, dragging himself away with a reluctant groan. “I need to book some time off so I can dedicate the time I want with you,” he'd said against Simon's lips. “See you later.”

Simon watched him disappear down the hall before he finally closed the door and leaned heavily against it. There was a dopey smile on his face he couldn't help.

He went to the bathroom to shower, then cleaned up the remnants of his late evening meal from the night before which had been forgotten upon Kyle's arrival. He fixed himself a simple breakfast of toast and tea and settled in on the sofa.

He quickly sent a text to Johnny.

< I’m still alive .

He didn’t receive an immediate reply, which wasn’t unusual. Simon suspected that Johnny was busy with work and would reply when he had an opportunity.

“You really think I’m a cat person?”

Simon couldn’t stop thinking about Kyle’s suggestion that he should get a pet. As he chewed his toast, he pulled up the website for the local pet shelter and scrolled through listings of adoptable animals. There were plenty that caught his eye, clicking through to read their short bios and lists of housing needs. Could he manage a pet? A cat didn’t need to be taken for daily walks, but they still required a level of management. Litter boxes that needed to be changed. Claws that needed to be trimmed. 

He considered how empty his flat felt now that Kyle was gone, how the presence of something small and fluffy and warm pressed against his thigh or simply sitting at the other end of the sofa would make the flat feel less lonely.

Not that Simon was lonely. He was perfectly content living on his own. But he’d be lying that he’d be in a worse place if he didn’t have Johnny coming round and checking in on him. He didn’t have personal connections with many other people.

He closed the website with a sigh, tossing his phone onto the cushion beside him.

> Running late. Traffic is a nightmare. Be there soon!

Simon was once again pacing his flat as he waited for Kyle to arrive. He needed to find something to fill his days so he didn’t spend hours waiting around when he had plans. Maybe instead of pacing his flat he could go out for a walk. The fresh air would do him good. And he was feeling well enough these days that the idea of going for a walk wasn’t abhorrent. 

It was only another ten minutes before the buzzer rang and Simon went out to meet Kyle at the front door. “Sorry I’m late,” Kyle said, kissing the corner of Simon’s mouth as he slid his hand around his waist. 

“S’alright,” Simon said.

“Did you decide where you wanted to go for dinner?”

Simon confirmed he did and gave Kyle the name of a local fish and chips shop. He knew it was simple, but it was late in the week and he wasn’t keen on sitting in a crowded, noisy restaurant.

Kyle smiled. “Sounds good. 

The shop was nearby and they walked the few blocks with Kyle’s arm around Simon’s waist. The walk confirmed that getting out more regularly would be good for him, as Simon felt more at ease breathing the cool evening air. 

The shop wasn’t too busy and they found a table near the back away from the bustle of the street. Their meals came on trays lined with newspaper that was glossy with fryer grease. Simon doused his chips in vinegar, popping several into his mouth and breathing out around them to cool them.

Kyle watched him with fond amusement, breaking off a piece of his fish and doing the same. 

“What did you get up to today?” Kyle asked around his mouthful, words garbled as he tried to cool the piping hot fish as he chewed.

“Tidied a bit. Let Johnny know I’m still alive. Researched some cats for adoption.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “Are you really considering getting a cat then?”

Simon shrugged. “Dunno. Was thinking about what you said and thought to look.”

“You’d make a cute cat dad,” Kyle said with a wink. 

Simon rolled his eyes. “Let’s not assign any titles just yet.”

“So, do you have any family nearby? You talk a lot about Johnny but not anyone else.”

Simon turned solemn. He slowed chewing the bite in his mouth and dropped his eyes to the table. “No,” he said flatly.

“Oh,” Kyle said. His tone indicated he understood he’d clearly struck a nerve. Silence hung heavy over the table as they continued to eat. 

“They died,” Simon added as the silence stretched. “It was…horrific. So, no. I don’t have any family.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kyle said quietly.

Simon shrugged indifferently. “Not your fault.”

Kyle reached out a hand to touch one of Simons, but hesitated. Simon lifted his eyes to Kyle’s with a tired smile. “It’s not as though you knew. You were asking a normal question. I just have a difficult answer.” He turned his hand over and took Kyle’s hovering hand in his own, squeezing his fingers. “It was a long time ago. What about you? What’s your family like.”

Kyle’s parents were divorced. He had an older sister and a younger brother. His sister was a barrister and worked at a law firm in Central London where she was on track to become a partner. His brother was a musician with a small dedicated following who was touring around England with his band. He pulled up a video of a recent show his brother did on Youtube for Simon to listen to. It wasn’t the kind of music Simon liked, but it sounded good, and he could see why he had a dedicated following. More than anything, his brother had a captivating stage presence, which Simon always thought was important. 

Kyle was close with his mom but not his dad. His mom lived in town, while his father had moved farther north after the divorce. “He doesn’t approve of me being gay, not that it’s something I could change about myself. I talk to him on Christmas, and that’s about it.”

“My dad a was a right prick,” Simon said as he licked salt and vinegar from his fingers. “Seems like most dad’s are.”

Kyle shrugged. “We’re all a product of our upbringing, right? I don’t want kids of my own, but I like to think that if I had any that I’d be a better dad than mine was.”

They finished their meal and stepped out onto the street. “How’re you feeling? Still up for mini golf?”

“Hope you’re not a sore loser like Johnny is,” Simon said with a smug smile.

“Oh? Sound awfully confident. You some kind of golf savant?”

“Guess you’ll have to see,” Simon replied with a wink.

Kyle laughed, loud and bright, and Simon wanted to kiss him right there on the street. He realised that he could. That Kyle would let him. That even though people on the street might look, he wouldn’t mind. And so he did, cupping Kyle’s cheek to draw him in and kiss his open, laughing mouth. It was brief, but Kyle returned it eagerly, pulling Simon in close before releasing him. 

“What was that for?” he asked with a wide smile.

“Just wanted to,” Simon said, unable to hide his own smile. 

Kyle took his hand, linking their fingers together. “Come on. We need to drive to get where we’re going for mini golf.” He led Simon back towards his apartment. 

Simon focused on the warm press of Kyle’s palm against his. He felt light, like if Kyle let go of his hand he might float away. He squeezed Kyle’s hand, and there was a buzz under his skin when Kyle returned the squeeze with a small smile.

The mini golf course was located outside the city center and was a standalone business, unlike some which were part of an arcade, too loud and full of people; screaming children, clanging bells and the electronic beep of video games. The course was indoor and had an underwater theme. They collected their putters, ball and scorecard, and descended the stairs to the play area.

The air was warm and humid. The light was dim but not so low as to impact player visibility. There were tall palms and slow moving water features, the gentle trickle of the stream and the occasional waterfall adding to the ambience of the experience.

“We don’t have to keep score, you know,” Kyle said casually as they reached the bottom. “It could just be a friendly game.”

“Nervous you’re going to lose?” Simon teased.

“No, but I’ve been known to be a bit competitive. I don’t want that to make the game unfun.”

“I like a bit of competition,” Simon returned. “Let’s keep score.”

Kyle shrugged a shoulder. “Okay,” he answered in a tone that suggested Simon might regret his decision.

They flipped a coin to see who would go first. Simon called heads, and Kyle removed his hand to reveal the winning call. “Guess you’re up first.”

Simon set his ball on the put line and lined up his shot. He gave the ball a measured tap and sent it into the hole with ease. “Hole in one!” he crowed as Kyle dutifully marked it down on the scorecard.

Simon’s elation was short-lived when Kyle set up his own shot, sinking it easily, just as Simon had done. 

“After you,” Kyle said with a raised eyebrow, gesturing towards the next hole with his hand outstretched.”

The game continued on that way, the score between the two adjusting minutely with one or two strokes ahead or behind. As the course progressed and the holes became a bit more challenging, Kyle was making shots that Simon felt were impossible, collecting birdies or bogies while Simon was consistently well over par. The scorecard began to reflect the growing divide in overall strokes, as did Simon’s increasingly worsening mood. 

On the final hole, a complicated par 5, Simon managed to get the ball in the hole two strokes under par. Kyle managed to complete the hole in two strokes. “You’re very good at this,” Simon commented drily as Kyle finished recording their scores and tallying up the final numbers.

Simon already knew he lost. He didn’t need Kyle to tell him by how much.

“When I was a kid I played competitively,” Kyle answered. “It was something I did with my dad. He enjoyed it more than I did, but it was one of the few things we did together, and then shortly after I stopped my parents got divorced.”

“Buried the lede on that, didn’t you,” Simon groused.

“I’m sorry I didn’t disclose that I played competitive mini golf when I was eleven.”

Simon crossed his arms, putter swinging between his fingers.

“Aw, Simon. You’re not upset you lost are, are you? You did very well.”

“What are the scores then?”

Kyle passed the scorecard to him to review, and Simon scoffed when he looked at it, handing it immediately back. He could feel a twinge in his back from bending over the putter for so long, which certainly wasn’t aiding in his sour mood. 

“I promise to make it up to you,” Kyle said softly, leaning in to kiss Simon’s cheek. But Simon leaned away, and Kyle pulled back, a worried look on his face. “Simon?”

“Let’s just go.”

They turned in their putters and stepped out onto the street. The air was bracingly cold, the temperature having dropped considerably since they’d arrived. They walked in silence back to Kyle’s car, and drove wordlessly back to Simon’s flat. 

When Kyle had put the car in park, they sat quietly, Kyle tapping his hands on the steering wheel, seemingly unsure how to proceed. Simon internally berated himself for being such a child about losing a game of mini golf. The evening had been nice otherwise, and he didn’t want to repeat what had happened the day before by shutting Kyle out needlessly.

“Do you want to come up?” Simon said eventually. His eyes were trained out the window, fingers idly picking at his trousers.

“Do you want me to come up?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. ‘Sides, you said you’d make it up to me, didn’t you?”

There was the click of the seat belt being released and the whisper of the nylon as it retracted. A hand touched Simon’s shoulder, drawing the other man’s gaze, and Kyle leaned across the console to press the kiss Simon had rejected earlier to his cheek. “I don’t intend to disappoint.”

Chapter Text

Simon didn’t think that Kyle was capable of disappointing, a fact that was proven true when, after they’d casually made their way up from the car to Simon’s flat, Kyle had taken Simon apart piece by piece and rewired his brain as he put him back together.

“Have you ever bottomed before?” Kyle had asked when the door to the flat had clicked quietly shut behind them and the two had slipped off jackets and kicked off shoes.

“Yes,” Simon replied. His cheeks felt hot at the low tone of Kyle’s voice and the implication in the question. 

“Mmm, good,” Kyle had hummed as he led Simon directly to the bedroom, hands finding their way beneath the hem of Simon’s shirt, his touch sparking fire along Simon’s skin at every point of contact. 

Simon had gotten hard embarrassingly fast as Kyle helped to undress him. The way that Kyle’s hands had traced over his body, taking his time, made Simon feel like something precious. 

“Get on the bed,” Kyle instructed, and Simon had hastened to obey. Kyle had fit a pillow beneath Simon’s hips to help support his back, and his body flushed hot at the consideration, minor as it was. 

Before Kyle ever got his cock inside him, he’d wrung an orgasm from Simon with his mouth that was so good that Simon’s toes had curled and he was pretty sure he’d blacked out momentarily. Kyle had looked unreasonably satisfied with himself when Simon had blinked his eyes open some indeterminate amount of time after. “That was for the mini golf game,” Kyle said with a wink and Simon had grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and tried to swipe him with it. Kyle had caught the pillow easily and pressed Simon into the bed as he kissed him breathless.

After that, Kyle had teased him mercilessly as he worked Simon open on his fingers. How he managed to restrain himself after so much waiting, Simon didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain. Kyle was just as attentive in bed as he was in every other aspect of their interactions, and for the briefest moment Simon wished that Kyle would be selfish and take what he wanted. 

“I’m not fragile,” Simon had croaked out. “You don’t have to coddle me.”

“I know you’re not,” Kyle laughed, “I just want to take my time. There’ll be time to be rough with you later.”

The reminder that this wasn’t a one time thing had Simon squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. 

It was still a few days before Simon’s first appointment with John, and in the days following his date with Kyle, Simon decided to take his own advice and instead of pacing around his apartment go outside for a walk. He called Johnny on a day he knew he was free. Johnny was rightfully surprised when Simon proposed going for a walk, even if Simon pretended to be offended. “You? Go for a walk?” Johnny put his hand against Simon’s forehead. “Are you feelin’ alright?”

“Piss off,” Simon said with a small smile. 

Gentle teasing over, the pair set out to take a meandering stroll around Simon’s neighbourhood. 

Walking through a neighbourhood was a uniquely eye opening experience, Simon learned. It allowed you to see things you wouldn’t otherwise see while stuck inside a car (or if you were a recluse who never left their flat). As he wandered the streets, going farther and farther afield from his flat, he saw more and more things that enticed him to return. 

One overcast afternoon he saw an Italian Greyhound at a nearby dog park and thought of Kyle, wondering if it was his girl, Cybil. He’d also unwittingly befriended an striped orange cat that lounged on the front step of what Simon assumed was the house where it lived. The first time Simon had passed, the cat had followed him for half a block, and when Simon eventually stopped, the cat had woven between his legs and bumped at his calf until Simon had bent to run a hand over silky soft fur. The cat had a tremendously loud, rumbling purr, and Simon couldn’t help but smile when the cat flopped over on its side, rolling this way and that, enticing Simon to further petting. 

He had also discovered a small cafe around the corner from his flat. It was little more than a hole in the wall, the staff friendly, but not overly so, and there was a modest selection of pastries to pair with a decent cup of tea.

He and Johnny stop in, Simon grabbing a tea and Johnny a coffee and a pastry for himself. Simon then led Johnny to a bench tucked out of the way that offered a view of the area without putting them out on display. 

“I thought you said we were going for a walk?” Johnny teased around a mouthful of scone. 

“You want to walk and eat that?” Simon asked, nodding his head at the scone resting on Johnny’s thigh and the cup of black drip coffee in his hand.

Johnny shrugged and popped another bite of scone into his mouth. 

They sat for a bit, taking in the movement of people through the neighbourhood and enjoying the fresh air. Johnny finished his scone and stood to find a bin to dispose of his waste before he turned to Simon with an expectant look.

Simon stood and the two resumed their walk in comfortable silence. As they rounded the corner onto the street with the orange cat, Johnny cast a look at Simon and asked, “So what made you want to take a walk?”

Simon shrugged, sipping at his cooling tea. “I was working myself into an anxiety spiral in the flat waiting for Kyle the other night, and it occurred to me that maybe I should get outside instead of wearing a path into the carpet. Plus, I think I was getting a bit too invested in the current story line of Hollyoaks.”

Johnny burst out into raucous laughter, and Simon smiled fondly at his friend’s uncontrolled mirth. After a minute, Johnny quieted, wiping tears from his eyes. “Aye, those soaps know how to reel you in. It’s no wonder they’ve been on as long as they have,” Johnny replied. His eyes widened as something occurred to him. “Hey, how’d your date with Kyle go, then?”

Heat flooded Simon’s cheeks, but he was saved momentarily as a familiar orange feline appeared on the sidewalk, trotting quickly in their direction. “Hello you,” Simon said warmly, dropping into a crouch as the cat rubbed against his leg. Johnny watched on in surprise as Simon and the cat had a moment. 

“Never took you for a cat person,” Johnny commented.

“No?” Simon had been thinking more and more about a cat since Kyle had mentioned it, and this regular visitor was making Simon think more seriously about a cat of his own.

“Never took you for an animal person at all, if I’m being honest,” Johnny added, and there was something about the fact that it wasn’t just cats that made something loosen in Simon’s chest. 

With reluctance, Simon gave the cat one last stroke along its back and stood. As they resumed their walk, Johnny asked again. “So, your date? Go well?”

Simon coughed and tried not to blush too hard. Johnny saw the colour on his cheeks regardless and laughed again, loud and bright. “Well, good for you, Simon. You seem happy, and that’s all I could ask for.”

After the embarrassment ebbed, Simon told Johnny about what he and Kyle had done, and how Kyle had blindsided him with his skill on the mini golf course. “But he made it up to me,” Simon said, eyes determinedly not looking at Johnny.

Johnny elbowed him in the side when he answered, “Aye, I bet he did.”

“Should we head back? Could use another sit.”

“When’s your appointment with John, again?”

“Still a couple days yet.”

“Not another bench we can use?” Johnny asked, a note of light teasing in his voice.

“Think I’d rather just sit at home,” Simon replied. “Enough fresh air for me today.”

Johnny didn’t object, and they changed route to head back to Simon’s flat.

By the time his appointment with John arrived, Simon was in need of it. When John asked where he was at, Simon reported confidently that he was at a five. His pain threshold had remained lower than it had been before he had started seeing Kyle for treatment, and the recent addition of walks to his routine also seemed to help with how he was feeling. Yet the ache in his back that had begun to develop when he and Kyle had been mini golfing had continued to manifest in the days after, and there was a slight twinge of pain any time he had to bend over while tidying up or while doing the dishes.

While Simon had lingering aches related to other activities following his date with Kyle–he’d not moved around much the day after and the lack of movement left his body feeling stiff–those weren’t details Simon felt compelled to convey to John. They weren’t exactly at a place where he was comfortable disclosing to John that he’d been well fucked by his predecessor just a few days prior.

“Let’s start with an assessment of your movement, just so we have a baseline, and then we’ll get into it,” John said after he’d gotten the table set up. He had Simon lay down on it the same way Kyle had, moving his arms this way and that until Simon indicated he could go no further. “Good flexibility. Better than I was expecting based on what Kyle told me.”

Simon warmed at the positive assessment and settled more comfortably into the table. 

“Alright. Starting with your shoulders and working our way down your back, alright?”

“Alright,” Simon affirmed, and John got to work.

John’s hands were strong–stronger than Kyle’s–and made Simon feel a bit like he was made of play-doh as John worked at easing the tension in his muscles.

Although John had said he’d be happy to shut up if that’s what Simon needed, he chatted throughout the massage, even if Simon didn’t respond, talking about his army days and the difficult transition to civilian life and his eventual move into massage therapy. His low voice was soothing, and became a pleasant background noise, allowing Simon’s mind to drift.

“Alright, Simon,” John said, bringing Simon back to himself. “We’re all done. Go ahead and sit up. How’re you feeling?”

Simon rolled his shoulders, lifted his arms over his head in a stretch. He felt good and told John as much.

“Good to hear. Now, given you were at a five today, I think we should see how long you can go before we schedule another appointment. You said you’d started going for walks every day? That’s good. About how far do you go?”

Simon thought about it. “I think the furthest I’ve gone is about three kilometres. Going outside has been…a bit of a challenge for me,” he admitted, “so this is more a test of my mental health and not just physical.”

“The two are more connected than you might think, son,” John said, giving him a quick double pat on his shoulder. Simon was surprised by how unbothered he was by the unannounced physical contact. “I think if you can get yourself up to five kilometres, that would be a good target. Don’t push yourself, of course, but set easy goals. Don’t worry about your pace. Time is not that important. It’s just a matter of accomplishment. Next time you’re approaching a five on your pain scale, call me to make an appointment. You’ve made excellent progress, Simon. I’ve seen men just like you who never seem to see improvement–both on the mental side, and the physical.”

“Thank you, John,” Simon replied. There was something about the man’s validation that made Simon want to do better. 

It was almost two months before Simon needed to make another appointment with John. In the interim, he continued his daily walks, pushing himself to go just another 250 metres before heading home until he reached his goal of five kilometres. Occasionally Kyle would accompany him, other times Johnny, but most days it was just Simon on his own. 

He’d also started going to the gym with Johnny more frequently. The most he could manage was two days a week for about half an hour, but even with that he was seeing more improvement, finding himself not watching the clock as closely, not feeling his body remind him quite as readily that it needed a break. 

He’d also begun looking more seriously at adopting a pet. He was taking daily walks, which meant the possibility of a dog was better than when Kyle had originally mentioned his need for a companion, but it was more of a commitment than he was willing to make. What if he had an especially bad day and couldn’t get out? He didn’t want the poor creature to suffer just because his body was broken. 

His regular interactions with the orange cat, whose name he had come to learn was Trevor, had endeared him to the idea of a cat quite considerably. One evening as he and Kyle had been snuggled on the sofa, Simon had suggested they go to the local shelter to see what was available.

“Are you serious?” Kyle asked.

Simon nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it since you mentioned it, and I think you’re right. Also I see Trevor every day and our brief interactions make me long for a cat of my own.”

“Alright,” Kyle replied with a small smile. “We can go tomorrow, if you like?”

“Yeah. That would be good.”

The following day found them at the local shelter. There are a number of cats available for adoption. The shelter staff ask what kind of experience Simon has with cats (none) and what kind of cat he’s looking for. “Alright, well…since you’ve not got a lot of experience, a cat that doesn’t have any special needs would be best, I think, but have a wander through and read the tags on the kennels and see what you think.”

Simon squeezed Kyle’s hand as they stepped into the room where the cats were kept, looking at the names and labels providing information about their various personalities. There are a number of kittens, cats that are bonded, cats that are not suited for children, and cats just looking for the fur-ever home. Simon made two rounds through the room, the first a casual pass and the second slower, more considering. He stopped at the cage of a fluffy grey cat that was curled up in the back of the kennel. Its green eyes peered out assessingly at Simon through the metal bars. The tag on the cage identified the cat as Ramona. “Ramona is an ageing lady who needs her space. She takes some time to warm up to you and is not keen on pets and cuddles until she’s comfortable with you.”

“Sounds like you,” Kyle teased, and Simon elbowed him gently in the stomach.

Simon remained at the kennel, watching Ramona watch him, when her eyes slid closed in a slow blink. “I think she’s the one,” Simon said softly. 

“You’re sure?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

The shelter staff seemed equally as surprised by Simon’s choice, but were pleased that Ramona was finally leaving with someone who wanted her. They did up the paperwork for Simon to sign, and after paying the adoption fee, they left with Ramona in a tow.

EPILOGUE

Things in Simon’s life were going well. Between his massage therapy, his relationship with Kyle, and the introduction of Ramona (who settled in quickly at Simon’s flat, though it would be a few weeks before she seemed comfortable enough to so much as share the sofa with him). He’d even made an appointment to restart his sessions with the therapist the military had set him up with after his initial discharge. 

The therapist had tasked Simon with keeping a journal, a task that he began doing on his daily walk, taking up the bench tucked just off the path to record his thoughts and feelings to be discussed at their session the following week.

When Simon mentioned that he was feeling restless enough to consider work, his therapist was overjoyed. “You’ve made significant strides since we first met, Simon,” she said. “Between your physical improvement and your widening social circle, it’s remarkable how far you’ve come.”

A few days later, he saw a small help wanted sign inside the cafe near his flat. He had no experience working any kind of service job and had no idea how to make coffee, but he asked about the position, regardless. He’d become a regular over the months, and the young woman who he saw most frequently turned out to be the manager, and was delighted by his inquiry. “We’re happy to provide you with training. The position is part time, so it’s only a couple days a week. I hope you’re not looking for something more full time than that.”

“No, that sounds perfect, actually,” Simon replied. 

“Okay! Well, come by tomorrow around half seven and we’ll walk through how to work the cash register. Hope you’re okay being thrown into the deep end with customer service right away.”

Simon was starting to feel familiar with being in the deep end and nodded his agreement.

Johnny was knocked off his feet in surprise when Simon announced the news to him and Kyle that he’d gotten a job. “Just something part time. Only a few hours a couple days a week.”

“Simon, that’s incredible,” Kyle said, kissing his cheek. 

“Who are you and what’ve you done with Simon Riley?” Johnny said when he was able to speak again. “I really am just floored, mate.”

“It’s just a cafe,” Simon protested. “It’s barely anything.”

“You going for walks was a big enough surprise, but a job? And a barista, of all things.” 

“Well, I’m a far cry from a barista, yet.”

The level of shock and surprise from his friend and his boyfriend, his therapist and his massage therapist, painted a clear picture for Simon of just how bad his situation must have been, how deep a hole he’d let himself sink into, that digging himself out even slightly was cause for celebration

He was suddenly overwhelmed that he had the people in his life that he did. Johnny more than anyone had helped keep Simon afloat. If it wasn’t for his gentle persistence and encouragement to find someone to help manage his pain, if he hadn’t recommended Kyle…the domino effect that single call had on Simon’s life was insurmountable. 

“Simon? What’s the matter?” Johnny and Kyle asked at the same time. Simon blinked through the blur of his vision, realising that he was crying.

“I’m just thankful, is all.”