Page 71 of Out of the Shadows
DANIEL
“Tea, coffee, hot chocolate? Or should we just dispense with the drinks and go straight to bed?”
“There’s only one answer to that, isn’t there?”
I hustle him up against the edge of the worktop, pressing my body against his. Steadying his face between my palms, I brush a kiss over Cosmo’s lips and smile when he moans in pleasure.
“Hmm, that’s nice. I enjoyed this evening, yet all this time there was me thinking jazz was just for old people. Ever had sex on the kitchen table?”
His sudden switch in direction leaves me floundering for a second before I burst out laughing.
“That wasn’t quite the answer I was looking for.” He’s trying to look put out but his grin gives him away.
“A coffee will do. Have you got any biscuits?”
“If I say yes, will you do me on the table?”
“I… I…”
“Okay old man, I’ll put the kettle on. But just hold on to that thought.” He slips around me, fills the kettle and throws open the fridge and swears.
“Sod it. I’m out of milk. I’ll just nip to the shop.”
It’s getting on for midnight, but there’s a convenience store on the high street that never seems to close.
“Don’t worry about it, I can drink it black.”
His grimace is one of pure disgust. “But I can’t, and besides we’ll need some for breakfast in the morning. I won’t be more than ten minutes. And yes, the biscuits are in the barrel over there.”
He nods to a hideous ceramic thing that looks like a gonk crossed with a Chinese dragon, reminding me of the one my gran had, which took pride of place on her kitchen table. Seconds later the front door slams, leaving me alone in his silent house.
Cosmo’s made the unthinking assumption I’ll be staying the night, and it’s exactly what I’m going to be doing. In just a tiny handful of weeks, we’ve already slipped into some sort of familiar understanding. Although I’ve been here before, most of the time we stay at my place.
The houses in this street are a good size, but they’re probably about half that of my house. I wander into the living room, but ignore the squashy sofa that’s set opposite a huge plasma screen TV which hangs from the wall, and instead make my way over to the bookshelf. Or maybe I should say bookcases, or even library.
A whole wall is taken up with books. It’s an eclectic and thought-provoking mix. There doesn’t seem to be any method to how they’re stored. Fiction and non-fiction are muddled up together, paperbacks and hardbacks. Crime and politics, thrillers and mysteries, and biographies and even a few battered-looking children’s books.
“What…?”
The Gay Teenager’s Guide to Life, Love and The Universe.
I pull it from the shelf, and open it up. On the fly leaf, there’s an inscription.Always here for you, Jimbo xxx.I wonder who Jimbo is, and if he’s still here for Cosmo. I’m itching to know, but asking will expose I’ve been looking — or snooping — and I slot the book back, turn away and study the photographs covering much of the wall next to the bookshelves.
Cosmo as a slightly chubby child and as a pre-teen, surly and spotty. Graduation photos, but informal ones with friends. In more than a few he’s with a tall blond, their arms flung around each other and their faces pressed tight together as they grin into the camera. More photos of the two of them, at parties, on beaches, and drinking beer as they laze on the grass in front of a two-man tent. A former boyfriend? The big love of his life? Who else can it be? In all of the photos, Cosmo’s happy as he smiles and laughs into the lens, and I’m glad of that even if jealousy does punch me in the chest.
I force my attention to some of the other photos.
Family gatherings. Many of the shots have been taken in a garden, with dogs in the background. One photo stands out, and I lean in to take a closer look.
Cosmo, in what looks to be his late teens, standing with another man. The guy has a watchful expression on his face, along with an ill-concealed smirk, and although the two of them don’t look anything like each other I immediately know they’re related. It’s that same smirk I so often see on Cosmo, but more than that it’s the eyes. The same moss green, unreadable, feline eyes. There’s something about the older man, and he’s a fair bit older and more my own age I would say, that makes me know he’d be a tough and intelligent adversary. I shake my head. Why on earth would I think that?
I move along the wall. More childhood photographs, more of Cosmo at various ages with various friends, and more of him with the tall blond.
“Oh.”
A wedding picture. Four men. The blond guy, again, and leaning in to an older man who can be none other than his new husband.
Next to the blond is Cosmo with a massive grin on his face and I have to smile because he looks so incredibly happy and proud of his friend. I frown as I study the photo. The younger guy, the one in so many of the photos. His friend, it’s got to be, the one he’s mentioned but whose name escapes me for the moment.
