Head Over Heels Âœ“ 23 / after the party

january, age 18

Lucas woke up in a blur, a faint headache thrumming behind his unclear eyes. Reaching for his glasses, his bedside table wasn’t where he was used to it being and there was something heavy pinning him down, holding him prisoner to the bed. Squinting, he made out the cabinet that belonged in Asher’s bedroom, fumbling for his glasses for a moment before he brought the world into focus and realised that the weight over his waist was Asher’s arm. The warmth on the back of his neck was Asher’s steady breath. He lay curled around Lucas, the two fitting perfectly together, with his hand over his stomach.

It hadn’t been a dream. Lucas’s stomach lurched. He hadn’t imagined what had happened last night, the warmth that had spread when Asher had hugged him; the flames that had sparked when Asher had kissed him; the fire that had roared when Asher had touched him. It was real. His pulse sped up as though trying to chase down the truth, suddenly away of his every move with his best friend curled around him. His more than a best friend.

The bedside table wasn’t empty. Lucas adjusted his glasses and squinted a little, the bedroom still fairly dark as the sun began to raise its sleepy head at eight o’clock in the morning. Beside the lamp stood two glasses of water, a banana in front of each, as well as a note and a packet of painkillers. He reached for the note, recognising the personalised note paper and Ishaana’s capitalised script. She always wrote in capitals when she was writing to Asher: he found it easier read. 

He let the letter drop back onto the table and taking two of the pills, he swallowed them with a glug of water at a slightly awkward angle, followed by a bite of banana to line his stomach. He needed a clear head today: the last thing he wanted was to let a headache muddy his thoughts when there was so much on his mind, so much he felt still needed to be done. Or rather, so much that needed to be said in the wake of last night.

When he shifted, aware of the pressure in his bladder, he felt a movement behind him. Asher sighed, nuzzling against his neck. The slightest stubble bristled against Lucas’s skin.

“Morning,” Asher sleepily said, his lips grazing the back of Lucas’s earlobe. He felt the heat of Asher’s breath on his skin, sending a tingle scurrying through his body. Asher lifted his knees, tucking himself closer against Lucas. “You up?”

“It’s still early, I just need the loo,” Lucas said. When Asher let go of him he stood.

“Kay,” he said, not having opened his eyes once. He was still half asleep, his words a semi-conscious mumble. Hugging a spare pillow to his chest, he rolled over and Lucas watched him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. After all, the always had sleepovers: it was normal to wake up in the same bed.

They had never woken up spooning before.

He wondered if Asher remembered a thing. He had no idea how much his friend had drunk, fearing that he might have had just enough to wipe his memory of everything he had said and done. That had happened before, when Asher had woken up on a clean slate as though the night before hadn’t happened, and Lucas wasn’t sure he would be able to face repeating it if Asher had never really meant it in the first place.

It was too early to be up. The sun had only just awoken: it had just gone eight, not yet seven hours since he had eventually fallen asleep with Asher’s arm around him, but he couldn’t possibly go back to sleep with so much on his mind. It had been easy last night when the cider had sent him to the land of nod, comforted by Asher’s embrace, but the morning was cold and his head was a lot clearer.

He stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes, resting his forehead against the cool tiles as he waited for his headache to subside. It wasn’t a bad one and he knew it would go soon, and that the only thing that would help was time. And perhaps a little water. He washed his hands, scrubbing them clean, and cupped his palm beneath the tap to drink from the pool that formed.

The cold stream was instantly refreshing and although it was a chilly morning in January, the grass crisp with fresh frost and a hazy mist over the sunrise, he bent over the sink and splashed his face. The first day of the year. It had the potential to either be the best day of his life, the most incredible start to the year, or the most crushing. It all depended on Asher and what he remembered, and what he had meant.

When he returned to the bedroom, he found him sleeping. His face was pressed against the pillow, his mouth open as he dozed with the duvet tangled around his legs and a cushion held to his bare chest. He was wearing no more than a loose pair of boxer shorts that left little to the imagination. Lucas had seen him naked before: Asher had no shame when changing and they had shared showers for the first few years of their friendship, but things had changed now. Or so he hoped.

There was still a lot he didn’t know, a few niggles scratching at the back of his mind. He didn’t know what had really happened between him and Mawar, the reason for their break-up still a bit of a mystery. Part of him assumed that he was the source, unintentionally coming between them – to his benefit. Part of him feared that he was just a rebound, that their break-up had had nothing to do with him whatsoever.

Only Asher could help him there, he thought. Asher, and Mawar. As though a light bulb had switched on and illuminated a whole new path, he left Asher to sleep and he headed down the hallway. He recalled Mawar leaving her things in one of the spare rooms last night, quietly creeping along the hall until he came to the right one.

He knocked. Still drenched in humiliation from last night, the moment that he and Bishop had locked eye contact at the most mortifying moment, the last thing he wanted to do was to catch anyone else in a compromising position. He waited a few seconds and knocked again until he heard a grunt on the other side of the door.

“Mar?” he whispered. “Can I come in?”

She grunted again. He winced as he pushed open the door and slipped into the airy room: they had fallen asleep with the lights on, the bright light illuminating two bodies in the bed, a mess of hair and limbs.

“Oh,” he said, looking from Mawar to Mira and back again. “Um … can we talk?”

“I’m sleeping,” Mawar said, her eyes closed. Most of the king sized bed was empty: Mira’s leg was draped over Mawar’s waist, her arm over her chest, and she was fast asleep.

“I really need to ask you something,” he said, hanging by the door.

Mawar let out a heavy sigh and opened her eyes, pushing her hair off her face. “Ok,” she said, “but I’m very comfortable right now so I’m not moving. Ask whatever you want as long as I don’t have to move.”

Lucas pulled the door shut behind him, casting his eyes over Mira’s body before he looked down, away from her naked form. The duvet only just covered a strip of skin between her waist and her mid thigh, her bare breasts pressed against Mawar’s back. He awkwardly sat down on the floor next to the bed and looked up at Mawar, who stifled a yawn.

“Why did you and Asher break up?” he asked hugging his knees. He held her gaze. She pulled a face.

“Have you asked Ash that?”

“Not recently. I just need to know now, Mar.”

She sighed, long and slow. “Well, first, you’ve got to tell me what happened last night.” She tugged the duvet, accidentally exposing her nipple before she pulled the covers up to her neck. “Sorry,” she muttered. “What happened last night?”

“We kissed,” he said. “I was in the kitchen and Asher came in at midnight and we kissed – proper kissing. He told me he loves me and I told him I love him too. I think I might have told him that I’ve loved him since we were kids. I’m not sure if I told him that.”

“Is that true?” Mawar asked. Lucas nodded.

“I’ve loved him since we were four,” he said. “Maybe it wasn’t love back then, per se, but it was something.”

She smiled, deep dimples in her cheeks. “That’s really sweet,” she said. “Is that all?”

Lucas shook his head. “We went up to his room,” he said. “We, uh…”

“You had sex?”

“No!” he cried out. Mira stirred before deciding not to bother waking up. “No, we didn’t have sex. But we did … other things.” He awkwardly wiggled his fingers and Mawar laughed.

“You mean, like, handjobs?” she asked, suppressing another yawn.

“Yeah,” Lucas said, his cheeks flushing hot and pink. “Sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But you asked.”

“No, it’s fine,” Mawar said. She smiled. “So he told you? He told you he loves you?”

Lucas nodded before her words sunk in. “Did you already know?”

She pursed her lips. “Kind of,” she said. She snuggled under her duvet, struggling to keep her eyes open as she talked to him. She had Mira had been up most of the night.

“What happened? Just tell me, Mar. Why’d you break up?”

“Because we both realised he was in love with you,” she said quietly. Lucas’s heart burst out of his chest, pumping before his eyes as his body soared with elation at the simple words. “I mean, I was ninety percent sure. I have been for a while – it seemed obvious to me, the way you guys are together. Then after he stayed the weekend with you, he seemed a bit off the next time I saw him and he said he wanted to take a break to figure some stuff out.”

“And I was the stuff?”

She nodded. “I think it all hit him then. A lot of this is for him to tell you, really,” she said, “but he does love you, Lucas. I think he has loved you for a lot longer than he even realises. We talked about it a lot and it all kind of came out – and he did.”

“I’m sorry, Mar.”

“What for?” She gave him a tired smile and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault – I can’t be mad at Asher for realising who he loves. It would have been way worse if he’d kept it to himself, for all of us.” She covered her mouth when she yawned again, stretching out her back. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I love him,” Lucas said. “I always have.”

She gave him a soft smile. He looked up, taking in the naked body draped over her once more.

“What happened with you last night, then?” he asked. Mawar’s cheeks pinkened.

“I slept with Mira.”

“In what way?” Lucas asked.

“In every way,” she said. She laced her hand with Mira’s unconscious fingers, a newfound admiration for her short nails. Lowering her voice, she added, “We really clicked last night. I really like her.”

Mira hugged her a little tighter. “I really like you too,” she said, her hand over Mawar’s breast beneath the duvet, and she kissed the nape of her neck.

Mawar widened her eyes: she hadn’t realised Mira was awake. “Hey,” she said. Mira untangled herself and stretched before she bent over Mawar and kissed her, her hair brushing in her face.

“Morning, cutie,” she said with a smile. She brazenly stood and Mawar stifled a laugh.

“Um, Mira, Lucas is here,” she said, nodding at him. Mira flapped her hand.

“Nothing he hasn’t seen before,” she said, confident in her nudity as she headed into the ensuite bathroom. Lucas pressed his lips together and nodded.

“She’s naked a lot,” he said severely. Mawar let out a girlish giggle, covering her hot cheeks.

“That’s ok with me,” she said.

From the bathroom, Mira added, “Good – you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Lucas looked towards the bathroom then back to Mawar. “Have you ever been with a girl before?”

“Not like that,” she said with a grin. “Now, you need to go and be with your soulmate and let me sleep. I’ve hardly had a wink.”

“Soulmate?” Lucas asked, his head slightly tilted to one side. “Do you believe in that stuff?”

“Well, I don’t know,” she said, “but if ever there were two people destined to be with each other, it’s you and Asher. So go tell him that and let me sleep.”

Mira poked her head round the bathroom door. “Sure you don’t want to hop in the shower with me?”

Mawar looked from Lucas to Mira and back again. “Screw sleep, I’m showering,” she said. “See you later, Lucas.”

He left when she got out of bed, wrapped in the duvet to cover herself before he shut the door behind him. A lot seemed to have gone down last night, though he had been far too busy to notice. He vaguely recalled seeing Mira and Mawar hanging out together and thinking that they looked good together. Apparently they had thought so too.

Slipping back into Asher’s room, a little brighter now that the sun had been out for a good twenty minutes, he lay down next to him and shifted closer, until his chest was against Asher’s back, his chin on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Asher said, startling Lucas.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “You ok?”

“Mmm.” Lucas shifted away. Asher rolled onto his back and turned his cheek to face him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always,” Asher said.

“Do you remember what you said yesterday?” he asked, his heart in his throat. No matter what Mawar had said, he wanted to hear it for himself, from the only person who really mattered.

Asher frowned. “Hmm,” he said, rolling his lips between his teeth. “You mean when I said I love you and I want you and I’m sorry and I love you some more?”

An instant grin jumped onto Lucas’s lips. “Something like that,” he said, beaming. Asher grinned right back.

“Yeah, I think I remember that,” he said.

“And you meant it? It wasn’t just the alcohol talking?”

Asher gave him that same smile that had disarmed him for years. Now it empowered him.

“You know, I only had a couple of beers last night,” he said. “I meant every word.”

Lucas stared at him across the pillow, hardly any distance between them. It didn’t take much of a stretch to kiss Asher, closing his eyes as their lips met in the cold light of day. It was just as magical as last night, the rush of exhilaration to do what he had always wanted to do and with such ease. He rolled onto his front, his hand over Asher’s heart, and felt the steady beat as he kissed him.

“How come you never said anything before?” he asked when he pulled away at last, resting his head on Asher’s pillow. He just wanted to be with him, near him, to make up for all the time they had lost. He couldn’t count the number of tears he had shed over Asher, the nights of heartache as he’d had to try to come to terms with the fact that they would never be together.

“I…” Asher trailed off as he tried to find a way to explain himself that Lucas would understand, even though he had only recently come to understand his feelings. It had been something that had lingered beneath the surface for years, only breaking out when someone had showed him the door.

“It’s like an optical illusion,” he began. “You know that one with the rabbit and the duck?”

Lucas nodded.

“Well, it’s kind of like looking at that illusion and only seeing the rabbit, until someone points out the duck and then it’s all you can see, and you don’t know why you couldn’t see it before.” He sighed. “Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Lucas said.

“I love you,” Asher said, “and I always have, in some way. It’s like … the rabbit is straight, and the duck is gay. And now I can see both.”

Lucas untangled the simile in his head, picking apart the threads until it made sense. “So you’re bi?”

Asher nodded. “Yeah. I just didn’t really get it, but now I do.”

“And you love me.”

“I do.” He put his arm around Lucas’s shoulder, pulling him over to hug him. “I meant everything I said last night.”

They lay like that for a long time, letting the sun slowly rise outside until it poured through the window. The pale rays bathed them in soft light, highlighting the curve of Asher’s bicep as he held Lucas close, the two of them hovering in the delicious space between sleep and wakefulness.

“I don’t know about you,” Asher said after thirty minutes had passed, “but I’m kinda ravenous. Want to head down to breakfast?”

Lucas’s cheeks went hot. “Not particularly.”

Asher frowned before he laughed. “Oh, shit. Well, I guess there’s no better way for my dad to find out I’m bi than to walk in on me giving you a handjob. Sorry about that, Lucas.”

“It’s … actually, no, it’s not ok,” he said. “I don’t know if I can ever look your dad in the eye again. We made eye contact, Asher. Our eyes met. I can’t unsee the look on his face when he saw what he saw.”

Asher laughed, his chest shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s embarrassing,” he said, “but I have to say, I’ve caught my parents at it enough times – and so much more than just wanking each other off – that, I don’t know. It doesn’t bother me too much. It serves Dad right for being nosy.”

“It’s not your penis he saw!” Lucas covered his eyes, burying his face in Asher’s chest. “I can’t go downstairs.”

Asher wheezed, trying not to laugh out loud. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, tracing patterns over Lucas’s back. “Dad won’t care, I promise. He’ll be just as embarrassed and we can forget it ever happened, and I’ll fix the lock on my door.” He stood, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms to head down. “D’you know who’s here?”

“Your parents, your sister, Mira and Mar. Tom and Mika went home last night; hammy came and got them after midnight.”

“Mira and Mar, huh?” Asher raised his eyebrows. “They seemed to be getting on last night.”

Lucas snorted and nodded. “Yeah, they really hit it off.”

Asher looked over at him. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

“I went to see Mar earlier,” he said. “She and Mira spent all night together. They were just about to have a shower when I left. So yeah, I think they got on. Well, they got it on.”

Asher spluttered a laugh. “Wow. I guess it was a lucky night.” He ran his hand through his hair and cracked his back, stretching out to shake off the night’s sleep. “Ready?”

“Nope.”

“It won’t be bad. I bet Dad’s even more embarrassed than you. It’ll be fine.” He took Lucas’s hand. That was enough to convince him, linking his fingers with Asher’s to head downstairs. His pulse was racing, nerves coursing through him as though he was coming out all over again, though Asher’s parents had known that he was gay for years. Although they had never had any evidence from their own son, they’d always had a suspicion.

They were down before Mira and Mawar. Lucas wondered what they were doing considering a good forty-five minutes had passed since he had left them in the shower, but he pushed that thought away before it could delve into territory he didn’t want to visit.

Ishaana was sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping a mug of coffee. Her husband was working on his laptop. They both looked up when they heard the boys come into the kitchen. Ishaana clocked their entwined hands before she met her son’s eye and stood to hug him, and then Lucas.

“Morning, boys,” she said. “Happy new year!”

“Happy new year, Mum,” Asher said. “Where’s Sadie?”

“Still in bed. Last night’s the latest she’s ever stayed up, I think. Really took it out of her,” she said with a smile.

Asher let go of Lucas’s hand to take a seat at the table opposite his father, beckoning for him to come over too. Lucas reluctantly followed once he had taken the glass of orange juice that Ishaana poured him.

“I’m going to put some bacon and eggs on,” she said. “Sound good? And I’ve got beans, and toast.”

“Sounds great,” Bishop said.

“Perfect,” Asher said.

Ishaana rooted around in the fridge, pulling out breakfast supplies. “Ooh, I’ve got a couple of sausages too, if you don’t mind sharing.”

Lucas wanted to die. He couldn’t tell if Ishaana knew or not, if her words were innocent, but his cheeks couldn’t possibly get any hotter and he felt like his ears were about to fall off. Asher snorted a laugh, nudging Lucas under the table.

Bishop looked up. He glanced at Lucas, wincing when their eyes met. “Sorry about last night,” he said. Lucas wished the ground would crack open and swallow him whole.

“It’s ok, Dad,” Asher said, trying not to laugh. Lucas wished he could find it funny but his brain just wouldn’t let him shake the mortification.

“Sorry if I ruined the moment,” Bishop added. Lucas covered his eyes, his cheeks so red he looked as though he had just run five miles with no training.

“Oh my goodness,” he whispered to himself.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything – I just wanted to let you know you were missing the fireworks and Mum said you were probably upstairs.”

“It’s fine, Dad, really,” Asher said. He grinned to himself. “We caught our own show.”

Lucas almost fell out of his seat. “Asher!” he cried out. “Oh my goodness, I want to die. I actually want to die. This isn’t happening.”

Bishop chuckled and patted his hand. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t want to make it awkward for you.”

Lucas shook his head. “Too late. Far too late.”

“It’s fine, Lucas,” Asher said, slinging his arm around his shoulders. “Sorry. I’ll shut up. I’m just trying to lighten the mood a bit.”

Bishop leant back in his seat and held his hands up. “I really am sorry,” he said. “I appear to have a bit of a bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I just want you to know, I don’t care what you two get up to.”

Lucas wanted to cover his ears, to crawl under the table and curl up into a ball until everyone left and he could slink out under a cloud of shame, but he was glued to his seat.

“As long as you’re being safe,” Bishop continued, talking to his hands. “That’s all that matters.” He turned to Asher. “You know you can come to Mum and me if you need anything, and your brothers.”

“I know,” Asher said. He and his parents had always had the kind of casual relationship that most people his age envied: they were cool parents, who happily let him drink and had never needed to have ‘the talk’ when there had always been a no-holds-barred attitude to sex. It was a frequent topic of discussion, something the three boys had always been able to go to their parents about.

Asher bumped Lucas with his elbow. “See?” he said. “I told you it’d be fine.”

“I don’t know how you’re not dying right now,” Lucas muttered.

“Lucas, you really needn’t be so embarrassed,” Bishop said. “I mean it. It’s not a big deal – it was my fault anyway.”

Ishaana crossed the kitchen and stood behind her husband, her hands on his shoulders. “I think we can put this to bed now,” she said with a laugh. “Otherwise poor Lucas is going to have an aneurysm and I’d rather not have to explain that to four parents.” She moved her husband’s hair to one side and bent over him to kiss his forehead, draping her arms around his shoulders.

*

Mawar and Mira came downstairs as Ishaana served up breakfast, lining up six egg cups on six plates before she dropped a boiling hot egg into each, a slice of toast on every plate with a pan of beans for anyone who wanted them. Lucas and Asher poured beans onto one slice, each taking a second that they cut into soldiers for the egg, and they were joined in that by Mawar and Bishop, while Ishaana made herself a bacon and egg sandwich.

“I … I’m confused,” Mira said, staring at everything on the table. She took a seat beside Mawar, the two of them pink-cheeked after their long night – and morning – and she looked up at her for help. “What is all this?”

“Breakfast,” Mawar said, tapping the shell of her egg before she cracked it open. “Thanks, Ishy. This is all amazing.”

“No trouble at all,” Ishaana said with a smile, leaning over her plate to eat her messy sandwich while Bishop helped Sadie with her egg, cutting up her toast into fingers that she could dip into the perfectly runny yolk. “What’s the problem, Mira? Everything ok?”

“She’s American,” Lucas said. “Breakfast confuses her.”

“I can’t even disagree,” Mira said. She looked utterly bewildered. “I know that’s an egg cup, right? You gave me that education already. But what’s with the beans on toast? And the hot egg? And what is that?” She pointed at the jug of purple cordial. “Is that grape juice?”

Mawar pulled a face of utter confusion. “Grape juice? You mean … wine?”

“No, grape juice! The fruit juice?”

Asher slowly shook his head. “We don’t have that. It’s Ribena.”

“Which is…?” Mira rested her elbows on the table, her head in her hands as though this was the most confusing moment of her entire life.

“Blackcurrant squash,” Lucas said.

“What the fuck?” She clapped her hand over her mouth when she saw Sadie, who hadn’t heard her expostulation, and who had been exposed to far worse from her mother. “Sorry,” she said, wincing.

Bishop looked up from his plate, stepping in to save Mira as the only one of them who had spent much time state-side. “They don’t have that in America,” he said.

“What? Blackcurrant squash?”

“Both!” Mira cried out, despair on her face. She copied Mawar, tapping her egg to take off the top of her shell.

“That’s one thing,” Mawar said. “It’s just blackcurrant squash.”

Bishop cleared his throat and swallowed his mouthful. “They don’t have blackcurrants,” he said. “Or squash.”

“We have squash,” Mira said. “The vegetable, right? The … the vegetable thing. Like a butternut squash?”

Mawar chuckled. “No, no. Like cordial,” she said. “The fruit juice, you dilute it with water. And blackcurrant is a fruit. So it’s just fruit juice.”

Mira took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds. “Ok. Ok. I can do this,” she said with a laugh. “I’m having serious words with my mom when I get home. I can’t believe she lived in England for, like, forty years and she’s never told me any of this.”

“Oh, your mum’s English?” Ishaana asked.

“Yeah. She used to live round here, actually. That’s why I’ve been staying with my aunt; the rest of my family still lives here actually, but I hardly know them.”

“How come you ended up in America?”

“I was born there,” Mira said. “My dad’s American. A bit complicated, really, but Mom moved out right before I was born and we’ve lived there ever since. And not once has she made eggs like this or beans on toast or even mentioned blackcurrants, or whatever you said the juice was.”

“Are you sure she’s English?” Mawar raised a teasing eyebrow. “I don’t think you can call yourself English if you don’t make beans on toast for your kids. I was practically raised on it.”

“I wasn’t,” Lucas said, “but only because I didn’t like the mess.” He held up his fork, loaded up with a sodden square of toast soaked in bean juice and several beans he had pierced. “Now I’ve got it all figured out.”

Ishaana chuckled. “The boys lived off beans on toast when they were little, especially Asher’s brothers. There was a lot going on back then – we didn’t have much time for anything more complicated than that.”

Mira watched the way Mawar cut a slice of toast a little thicker than the width of her finger and dipped it into the runny yolk of her boiled egg, which sat in a novelty egg cup shaped like a knight’s armour. She cautiously copied her.

“It’s an egg, not a bomb, Mira,” Lucas said. “It won’t kill you.”

“It could, if I get salmonella.” She peered at the yolk. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just … this is all very new to me.” She took out her phone and snapped a photo of her breakfast, sending it off to her mother, to whom she was very close. An only child to an older couple, she had always got on well with her parents and she had kept in touch with them somehow almost every day since she had moved to Cambridge.

“You’re so cute,” Mawar said with a laugh, nestling against Mira. Ishaana raised her eyebrows, looking from Mawar to Asher, who laughed.

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “I think we have a gay house.”

*

After Mira and Mawar had pitched in to help clear breakfast away, even when Ishaana had insisted that they just relax, the girls headed upstairs to pack away their things. The boys stayed downstairs, idly chatting at the table and playing with Sadie. She was fairly easy to please: she just loved company, content as long as she was with someone.

Ishaana wiped down the counter, moving a stack of papers. One slipped off the top, an envelope that she swiped up off the floor and held out to her son. “Oh, by the way, Ash, this came for you.” She passed him an A4 envelope, the address handwritten. There was no stamp. He took it with a frown.

“It’s New Year’s Day,” he said, staring at it. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar. “There’s no post today.”

Ishaana dramatically rolled her eyes. “Maybe it was dropped off by an owl,” she said, flicking her tea towel over her shoulder before she returned to the counter, brushing crumbs into the bin and adding a few plates to the dishwasher.

Asher tore open the envelope and took out the solitary sheet of paper, frowning at it. He read out the insignia at the top. “The school of gay?” he asked, his eyebrows raising. He spluttered a laugh when he realised what he was holding, making out enough of the words that jumbled without his glasses. “Can you read this out?” He handed it to Lucas who wasn’t grateful for the paper in his hand, which only added audio to his shaking hands as the sheet quivered.

He read it through once, a smile growing before he started from the top, reading out the entire page.

Asher looked from Lucas to his father and then up to his mother. “Oh. My. God,” he said, dropping his head into his hands before he laughed, a proper laugh. “Did you seriously make that? Oh my God.”

Ishaana wrapped her arms around him, kissing his forehead. “I had an idea, I just thought it would be funny.”

“When did you even do this?” He stared at the letter, taking it from Lucas.

“This morning,” she said. “I know it’s a little presumptuous but it’s just, you know, our way of saying we will always love you.” She squeezed him and kissed his head again. “You’re not offended, are you?”

“I love it,” Asher said. “You guys are so weird.”

His mother grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment, hun.”

Asher sat down next to Lucas again, holding his hand under the table. He squeezed gently, matching the beat of his heart, to settle Lucas’s own racing pulse. Lucas took a deep breath, soothing himself. He turned to Asher when Bishop stood to refill his coffee, hugging his son on the way over.

“Asher?”

“Mmm?”

“Are we a thing?” he asked quietly. His words were only just loud enough for Asher, who noticed that more and more was passing him by, noises under the radar of what he could hear.

He held up the letter with a laugh. “Well, apparently I have to take this classes first,” he said. His laughter was infectious, spreading a smile to Lucas’s lips, which he kissed.

“Is that a yes?”

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” Asher asked. Lucas nodded, holding his gaze. Asher’s grin only grew wider, pushing creases up round his eyes, which looked like heaven to Lucas. “Then yes,” he said. “Absolutely.”

Ishaana let out a shriek and a clap, shocking everyone in the room. She covered her mouth. “Sorry!” she cried out. “I just – did you two just get together? You’re together now?”

Asher nodded. “Yes … what’s with the noise?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nothing, nothing,” she said. “Shit. I … oh, God.”

“There’s no easy way out of this one, Ish,” Bishop said with a laugh when he realised what she was about to say. Both Asher and Lucas were hanging onto her every word. “Get ready to hand back your Mum of the Year award.”

“What’s going on, Mum?” Asher asked. Ishaana cringed and laughed.

“Ok, oh, fuck. Don’t hate me,” she said, “but I may have bet your dad that you two would get together. And you just did, so I won.”

Lucas widened his eyes, his back straight. Asher stared before he laughed.

“You bet on us?”

“Sorry, hun,” Ishaana said. “I mean, we bet on everything really.”

“I know, I know. I just … I didn’t realise you were betting on us. When did you make the bet?”

She folded one arm over her chest and covered her eyes, swallowing her embarrassment at the confession she was about to make. “When you were in Reception,” she said. Lucas wasn’t sure his eyes could possibly get wider but they did when he heard that. He had known Ishaana had been on his side for a while but he hadn’t realised just how long, nor how seriously.

“When we were in Reception? How did you know?” Asher gasped.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, babes. Just, you know, mother’s intuition. I lost that first bet because you two really dragged your feet. But I just won.” She poked her husband and grinned. “You owe me.”

“How much did you bet?” Asher warily asked, wincing.

“That … doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Mum?”

Bishop laughed. “Well,” he said, “let’s just say I don’t have five hundred quid in cash.”

“Jesus!” Asher cried out. “You bet five hundred quid that we’d get together?”

“In my defence…” Ishaana said, trailing off. “I was right.”

Asher turned to Lucas, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh my God. Did you know my parents have been shipping us for, like, fourteen years?” he asked with a laugh. Lucas gazed over at him.

“So have I.”

+ – + – +

so i hope that cleared up some potential questions from last chapter for you! major thanks to magicallycursed for being my test Mira, credit to her for most of mira’s reactions to english stuff (i still can’t believe y’all don’t have blackcurrants or cordial like … what)

by the way, here is the egg cup of choice for today’s breakfast, courtesy of the Knight household: