Rexer - 1. Rexer

Paul M. Rexer headed into the kitchen in yesterday’s cotton trunks. He didn’t have any fresh underwear with him. Or clothes. Or much else for that matter.

He hadn’t expected to see the cutie from work in the street. Hadn’t expected to go for lunch, or to spend the afternoon hanging out, and certainly hadn’t expected dinner to be part of the equation. And then mind-blowingly good sex to top it off.

Who would have thought that quiet, unassuming little Jake Preston was so much fun? Or such a tiger when it came to sex? He had been. Responsive and vocal and surprisingly eager. And who would have thought he’d like him this much after half a day with him?

Paul smiled to himself and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. Jake hadn’t even stirred when he’d climbed out of bed, hadn’t moved a hair by the time he’d used the bathroom. And he looked so sweet when he was sleeping too, with his short brown hair just a little bed ruffled and his face so soft. He slept so quietly that Paul had been half afraid he’d stopped breathing. But no. It just seemed that he was simply much more peaceful asleep than anyone else he’d ever taken notice of.

There were things in the fridge, all very neat. It made him smile. Of course Jake wouldn’t just be super organised at work. So there were things carefully ordered in the fridge, but not what he was after. No bacon or tomatoes. Eggs, though. He’d wanted to make more than that though. Pancakes perhaps? He turned to the pantry and opened it up. He felt at home in this little kitchen, like he’d been here a hundred times before. It was nice. It felt… weird. Nice, but weird.

The pantry was looking a little sparse and very neat too. He wondered what Paul usually ate. Probably someone who cooked from scratch all the time. Or didn’t eat much at home. He was a small guy, and in good shape, but definitely on the skinny side.

So pancakes would be cool then. If there was a cookbook in Jake’s house that would have helped though.

Paul checked the other shelves, finding not a cookbook in sight, but a phone, blinking red at him.

He blinked at it. A phone in the pantry? Well, that seemed odd. The apartment was small, but not that small, right?

Messages, he realised. He wondered if they were old. Or important…

He could see himself, carrying in a breakfast tray to Jake, along with a piece of paper with his messages written on it. It felt nice. Domestic. He smiled. He really liked Jake. More than he ever thought he would like a timid colleague no one really noticed unless it was to poke fun at for his work ethic or his neatness. Never maliciously, since he’d stepped in that once, months ago now, but still. He’d never seen this happening.

Paul picked up the pen on the small pad next to the phone and pressed the button for the messages.

“Hey Jake,” the message started. The voice was bright, loud in the space. “Honey, I’m so sorry, we’re going to have to postpone. Joey picked up something on the flight down, and even thought I’m ok, you know how Joey gets when he’s sick and if I went out now, I’m afraid he’d do something stupid like eat a whole packet of cold and flu tablets without reading the label and wash it down with vodka and then I’d find his body cooling in the middle of the floor when I got home. And I don’t want that. And neither does he. Anyway, we’ll see you soon. Oh, and let us know about Rex, ok? None of us can wait to meet him.” The voice had gone sultry and then laughed. “Bye, sweetie.” The message ended with a click and Paul stood frozen, not hearing the next message begin to play.

“Let us know about Rex?” He repeated to himself. His skin had gone cold and tight. That was weird. That was not good.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Jake had bumped into him in the street outside his favourite coffee shop. His regular Saturday morning haunt. Had Jake- had Jake engineered the meeting? Had Jake followed him? Planned this?

He found himself giving a small shiver. That wasn’t right. Jake… Jake couldn’t have done that.

Except he could have. Jake was all about plans and lists and details. He drove them crazy at work with his careful graphs and charts. What was to say he couldn’t have done this?

And told his friends? Friends who had flown in from somewhere?

Shit. What had he got himself into?

Paul stared at the phone a bit longer, and then carefully pressed a button to make it stop. His heart was pounding. His palms were sweaty.

He tried to tell himself to calm down, that Jake was nothing he couldn’t handle. But obviously he watched too many horror movies, because now there was this idea nibbling at the edges of his mind that Jake was a serial killer, or a cannibal, and had plans to rape, torture and kill him and bury various parts of his body under the red flowers in the tiny front yard outside his unit and no one would ever know what became of him...

His snort sounded loud in the small space as he tried to tell himself it was ridiculous. But he’d scared himself now and he had the desperate urge to flee.

To get out, now.

To run, before little cutie Jake appeared behind him in the pantry with a smile and a carving knife and a wild, crazy glint in his pretty brown eyes…

*****

Jake’s bedroom was fairly small. He didn’t mind much. It felt cosy, and it fit his double bed, so that was fine.

The lack of room was generally a problem for other people, rather than for him.

Which, he considered as he stared at the ceiling, wasn’t a huge problem in itself, seeing as no one stayed long enough to really notice.

He hadn’t done more than roll onto his back since he’d woken up. Well, he’d reached out, found the other half of the bed empty and cold, and had quickly drawn his hand back. And then he’d lain there, waiting.

First he’d told himself that maybe Paul had gone to make coffee or something. Except there was no noise at all.

Then he wondered if Paul wasn’t trying to be quiet so as not to wake him.

Even so, it was far too quiet for him to have been in the shower or doing anything else.

Jake rubbed his eyes.

He couldn’t believe Paul had gone. Not after how amazing everything had been. No way.

He supposed Paul might have got up early, that he might have slept through Paul making coffee. Even now, Paul might be reading yesterday’s paper at the kitchen table, or watching the morning news with the tv on mute…

It took effort to pull himself out of bed and pull on some track pants until he could take a shower. Preferably with Paul.

But it became abundantly clear that that wasn’t going to happen as he looked around his little unit.

Paul had gone.

Jake swallowed hard. He should have realised that before. When Paul’s clothes hadn’t been folded on the chair in his room where he’d placed them next to his own last night. Before that. When he woke up to an empty bed.

He should have known before that. Before he’d somehow convinced himself that Paul had been interested in him.

Jake hugged himself.

Should have expected it. Should have known that it was too good to be true. Should have remembered that no one wanted him. Not really. People didn’t really like him, and didn’t want him for anything beyond what he could give them.

And here he was, hurt again.

Hurt? Hurt wasn’t the right word.

It was far more painful than that.

It was just more proof. Proof of how lame he was. Of how pathetic he was. More proof that things didn’t happen like in the movies. That hoping for something better was useless. Wanting someone to care about and to care about him was no better. It was all a great big joke.

Jake prodded himself into action. It was no good moping. No good sitting around and wondering why he couldn’t be more interesting, more exciting. Anything. Just more. It didn’t do any good.

He stripped the bed and opened the windows to the chilly air outside, and put the sheets on to wash. Then he showered and cleaned the bathroom.

He knew he should eat, but food didn’t appeal. And yet, he didn’t have many more jobs to do on a Sunday.

Jake decided to dust, since that was something that could never be done too often and since it would take him a while. Windowsills, picture rails, picture frames, the tops of doorframes and light fittings and cupboards. The tops of all the furniture. The legs and backs of all the furniture. Those places that dust caught even when you didn’t see it.

But it didn’t take him long enough.

Jake decided to eat after all. It might make him feel better.

He ate a small breakfast. Half a cup of muesli, with a quarter of a cup of yoghurt, half a banana, and a glass of juice.

Then he washed the dishes, put them away… and noticed the two mugs standing on the cupboard.

He hadn’t put them there. He knew he hadn’t. He turned them both so the handles were both facing the same way. But they were still in the wrong place.

Jake put them in the cupboard, and wondered if maybe he oughtn’t clean his cupboards out. It had been a few weeks since he’d done that.

So he sat on the floor and pulled everything out, wiped and disinfected all the surfaces and then washed and carefully replaced all the contents. The plastic cupboard was always the worst. Plastic containers always seemed to lose their lids in there.

But he was done with that before long too.

Jake sat back and swallowed hard. This was part of the problem. He knew it, and he couldn’t stop. It was Sunday, the weekend, and he was cleaning his house. His house, where no one came.

People thought he was boring, and uninteresting. That he had a dull job and that he was even duller.

No wonder no one wanted to be friends with him. Or hang out with him. No wonder Mark had left him. No wonder Paul had gone. No wonder he ended up home alone. And when he did make an effort to go out and do something? Well. His day with Paul had been amazing, if completely unexpected. But it left him yearning and aching today, and the hurt didn’t feel worth it.

Jake got his bed linen out of the drier and made his bed up.

He swallowed hard as he smoothed away the last of the creases.

There.

Now it was exactly as if nothing had ever happened.

*****

Paul walked into the office, trying to look as normal as he could.

Of course, he’d realised how ridiculous he was being when he’d got home from Jake’s, but that didn’t make things any better. Even if Jake wasn’t a serial killer or a psychopath, there was something frighteningly desperate about a man who would tell his friends about someone they barely knew before they’d even had a date.

He’d given it a lot of thought. For a while he’d thought maybe Jake could have texted someone, called someone, perhaps while he was in the bathroom at the restaurant or something. Except Jake didn’t own a mobile phone.

So for him to have told his friends about Paul already? That was strange. Really off. And Paul couldn’t shake the idea that maybe their coincidental meeting hadn’t been so coincidental at all.

Jake was already at work. Of course he was. He was probably one of the first to arrive and the last to leave. He was standing at the photocopier as Paul walked past. Paul didn’t look at him directly, but he could see enough out of the corner of his eye to know that Jake hadn’t looked up either. He did suspect, however, that Jake wasn’t normally so red.

Paul went upstairs to his office and sat down at his desk. He let out a shaky breath.

Couldn’t he go back to before? Not really noticing Jake apart from when he needed something? Knowing what he knew now? After that day he’d spent with him?

He doubted it. He really really doubted it.

*****

Jake felt the heat of his cheeks as Paul walked past, and didn’t dare move a muscle. His chest hurt from hoping so bad that Paul would speak to him this morning like nothing had ever gone wrong, but Paul walked past without hesitation, without a word.

Jake finished the copying and gathered the papers together, walked back to his cubicle.

He drew a deep breath and spent a calming few minutes re arranging his pens and straightening the few things he had pinned to the wall. A photo of his parents outside their house interstate. A picture his niece had drawn him. Two articles reviewing books he’d worked on. A couple of old postcards from his sister.

Then he sat at his desk and opened the files he was working on today.

And wondered how he was going to get through the day.

Jake rubbed his eyes and wondered if he shouldn’t just quit. Save everyone the trouble.

By the end of the day it was worse.

He’d started to relax, started to believe it when he told himself things would be ok. He’d chatted with Kirsty and Melissa for a bit, and they were nice. He liked them.

Except when he’d gone back to his cubicle, Paul had arrived shortly afterwards.

Jake couldn’t help the little frisson of anticipation over his skin. He still wanted Paul. Still liked him. But Paul had spoken to him coldly and quietly, told him he didn’t want to hear any rumours or any talk around the office, in no uncertain terms.

Jake had frozen up, nodded jerkily, unable to speak or move away.

Paul had given him a hard look, and left. And Jake had been a frazzled mess when he’d gone. He couldn’t believe that Paul would think he’d do that. Why would he tell anyone what an idiot he was? They laughed and gossiped enough about him without him handing them fuel to burn him with.

When the chief of the branch called them all together for an emergency meeting he’d gone in still flushed.

Paul had been sitting up with heads of departments. Jake had hoped to get a chair far away, but his own department head had waved him up next to her so he could take notes for her. And then he’d been opposite Paul. For the whole two hours.

Even as he’d made careful, neat notes, hardly looking up at all, he’d felt Paul’s icy eyes boring holes into the top of his skull. He felt naked and raw.

The nervousness made him ill.

By the end of the meeting his nerves were wound tight and he had to escape into the stationery closet to organise things just to regain a measure of control.

He’d been feeling much calmer when he headed to his desk. He even managed to get some work done.

Then Paul appeared.

*****

Paul had been beginning to think that the day would be ok, in the end. That it would all work out. He’d overreacted, and there was probably some highly logical explanation for what he’d heard, and if he spoke to Jake, he was sure it would all come out.

“Mail,” Sarah looked bored and more annoyed than usual. He guessed she didn’t much like doing the mail rounds while Steve was away. He received his mail, offering her a quick smile and a murmured thanks, both of which she ignored.

Paul saved his work, and pulled his mail towards him across the desk. There were a few more envelopes than normal. Some internal mail, external mail, some junk which should never have made it to him in the first place, and a small blue envelope.

The blue one caught his eye. He wasn’t used to coloured stationary. Nor was he used to receiving letters addressed like this.

He checked the rest of them. A few of them weren’t for him at all. But the blue one was the only one that was cause for panic.

His heart began to pound as he re-read the address label. His skin went cold and he felt the familiar tightening of fear around his stomach.

This was beyond slightly odd now. This was beyond weird. It was off, completely insane. Wrong.

Paul wondered what to do. Was he afraid of Jake? Jake was small, unthreatening. He shouldn’t be afraid of him. But he was apparently completely crazy, and Paul was more than slightly freaked out.

Was he supposed to go to his manager with this?

He tapped the envelope on the edge of the desk.

Seeing someone in management would require telling them what had happened with Jake. He wasn’t sure he wanted that to get around. And that might be bad for Jake, too. He didn’t want to humiliate him. Humiliating someone unstable was potentially a very bad idea. So he’d speak to him. Just to get him to back the hell off and stay away from him.

Paul straightened his suit and took a breath, hoping his thundering heart would slow down.

He’d speak to Jake. He’d tell him firmly that this was not ok, and tell him to stop this and just stay the hell away from him. Because he wasn’t afraid of Jake, and he wanted Jake to know it.

So he’d tell him.

Simple.

*****

Paul’s appearance struck Jake dumb again. He’d blinked, let Paul steer him into his cubicle and push him into his seat.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.” Paul hissed in a whisper. Paul looked pink, slightly wild. Jake stared at him, feeling his cheeks turning scarlet and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. “There’s something very wrong with you, Jake Preston. You’re already enough of a laughing stock around here. You should be thanking me for not spreading around how disgustingly pathetic you actually are.”

Paul shoved some internal mail into Jake’s chest. Jake jumped and clutched it on instinct.

“Stay the hell away from me.” Paul hissed, then left without waiting for any response at all.

Jake sat at his desk, trying to breath evenly, trying to suppress the tears welling in his eyes. It was like his brain had stopped working. Like his brain had turned to mush.

He clutched the edge of his seat with one hand and the letters with the other and stared blankly at his screen.

When he felt able, without betraying himself by shaking or crying, he slowly got up and made his way to the bathrooms.

The disabled toilet was never used, cleaner than the others. Jake locked himself in and leant against the door. He felt clammy and sick. And when he looked in the mirror he was nearly grey.

Paul had always been nice to him. Paul had always been professional, but friendly. Jake had admired him, found himself attracted to him. Found reasons to make himself useful.

But if he hadn’t bumped into Paul in the street on Saturday… even if he had… it had been Paul who’d suggested lunch. Who’d suggested dinner too.

So what was he to blame for? Why should he be ashamed? He couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done. He couldn’t think at all.

They’d spent the whole day talking. He’d really enjoyed Paul’s company. He’d thought Paul had enjoyed his. He’d taken Paul home. Was that what Paul thought he should be ashamed of? But Paul had enjoyed the sex, he was sure. The sex had been good. Paul had been a better lover than he’d had in a long time. He’d driven Jake wild, made Jake lose control like he couldn’t remember doing for years, and Jake didn’t understand how that could translate any way other than Paul enjoying it too. And so they’d had sex on the first day- so what? There’d been a connection. There had been something there. And dammit, if that’s what Paul was lashing out about, then he should be ashamed too.

But what if it wasn’t about the sex? What was he supposed to be ashamed of? And what was wrong with him?

And Paul had called him pathetic. Disgustingly pathetic. A laughing stock. Jake pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and let his lungs gasp for air as they would.

What had he done?

And how could Paul had gone from looking at him like that to being so cruel to him?

What was it that was wrong with him?

He’d lost track of how much time he’d spent in the bathroom, but had waited longer to make sure he looked ok before he left.

He’d been fidgety though, unable to settle.

Jake decided he needed another job that would calm him, and settled on filing.

Marissa laughed when she saw him there, feverishly tidying things, but he ignored her rather than smiling like he usually did.

He was a laughing stock. People were laughing at him to his face.

Well, was it wrong to like things neat and tidy? No one around here complained about not being able to find anything, and they took it for granted too. If he wasn’t around, they’d soon find out what chaos would ensue.

The week got worse from there.

He couldn’t concentrate on his work, so he tidied and organised. Everything.

But then he ran out of things to tidy. And the next step seemed logical.

Unfortunately, his boss didn’t seem very understanding. Dusting seemed to have been ok, but vacuuming apparently wasn’t.

“Jake Preston, what are you doing?” She demanded, standing with one hand on her ample hip and watching him wrestle the vacuum cleaner out of the cleaner’s closet. And there was someone laughing.

Someone laughing at him. Because he was a laughing stock and pathetic. And apparently everyone could see there was something wrong with him and he didn’t know what.

“If anyone else cared even a little bit about what this workplace was like, then I’d have a damn sight less to do than I do now.” Jake snapped, hot tears stinging in his eyes.

He saw the surprise on Hillary’s face, looked away. People were probably staring, and he was going to cry.

Pathetic. Yes, he was pathetic.

“My office. Now.” Hillary’s tone was cool, but he didn’t care. Crying in front of one person was a huge step up from crying in front of every single person he worked with.

He nodded, bent to get the vacuum cord, which had somehow tangled around everything, and started to wind it into a neat coil.

There was a strange silence which buzzed in his ears.

“Jake?” Hillary sounded mystified.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“It’s a trip hazard to leave it like this. Putting it away properly will only take me-”

“Jake, I said now. Let someone else deal with it. My office. Go.” Hillary sounded outraged. Shocked.

He hesitated, looked up.

People were watching with fascination, with morbid curiosity, frozen mid movement.

Jake shivered despite the hot blush glowing in his cheeks, and turned away.

He felt ill leaving the vacuum lying there, but he had to go to Hillary’s office. Had to or she’d fire him. And how would he get another job? It was a surprise they’d let him stick around here this long.

He let himself into her office and looked around. Maybe she was going to fire him. He twisted his fingers together, looking around her office. It was a mess. A complete mess.

And the people in the hallway were probably laughing at him.

Struggling to draw deep breaths and stay calm, he found his fingers moving. Picking up the pens, replacing their lids, moving the books on her desk into perfectly even piles.

Unfortunately he hadn’t had time to even tidy the whole office before she was right behind him.

“Jake Preston!” She said loudly. He fumbled the day-to-day calendar and put it back on the desk, carefully squaring it with the edges of the timber.

Hillary was watching him.

“Sit down, Jake.” She said more quietly after moving around her desk and taking her own seat. He obeyed, reached out to straighten her pens as he did.

Hillary’s hand came down on his so fast he jumped. But she didn’t do anything other than gently catch his hand and hold it fast.

“Jake, is something wrong?” She asked.

He felt a cold shiver slide over his skin, shrugged.

“Do you need some time off?” She asked.

Jake shook his head. If he was home alone, all the time… he’d go crazy.

Hillary squeezed his hand in both of hers. He blinked rapidly to try to stop the tears welling up behind his eyes.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” She finally said. She looked sympathetic. And that was it.

Jake found himself crying, covering his face and letting the misery pour out of him.

And Hillary was passing him tissues, coming back around her desk and rubbing his shoulders.

“Please,” he choked out. “I’ll try to stop. I will…”

“Honey, it’s not that simple.” Hillary sounded sympathetic, but that was it. He knew he was losing his job.

He drew a shuddering breath, nodded. “I c-can take my stuff home today.” He told her.

“What? Jake, I don’t want to fire you.” Hillary squeezed his shoulder. “But I don’t think I can keep you on. Unless you do something about this.”

“I’ll try, I will. I can stop.” Even as he promised, he wasn’t sure he could. That was the problem. It was like he had to do these things.

“No, Jake. I mean… you need to get professional help. Alright?”

He shuddered, looked at her.

“You need to go to your doctor, and get a referral. Ok? You need to see a psychologist or a psychiatrist and get some help, alright, Jake? You can’t go on like this.”

There was nothing to do except nod. Nothing else that seemed possible.

So he nodded.

*****

His home was quiet and still. He let himself in and went to put his work things into their proper places in the files and trays in the little desk he had in the corner of his small lounge room.

The internal mail he could deal with directly. His latest pay slip, a note regarding the company’s Superannuation regulations, a letter from HR reminding staff about the company policy about requesting holidays, and another envelope. A blue one. He frowned at it. It was addressed to him, but it had “(and Rex :D )” in brackets next to his name.

He carefully opened the envelope and drew out a navy invitation to a birthday bash. From Greg. He frowned at the name. He shouldn’t be surprised. He had told as few people as possibly about Rex. Greg obviously didn’t know.

He sighed and rubbed his face. He wouldn’t have ever been invited except that Greg had taken a liking to his ex. He wondered if he shouldn’t call him and just hand over his number.

Jake sighed and went into the kitchen and put both the invite and the envelope into the recycling bin.

And then the mugs in the cupboard caught his eye so he straightened them until their handles were all lined up.

And once he’d straightened up the cutlery too there were so many more things that needed doing before he could even think about calling the doctor and making an appointment.

*****

Paul hadn’t seen Jake around the office for days. Part of that had been his deadline and the fact he hadn’t paid attention to much else for days, and when he had he’d just been grateful that Jake appeared to have taken his warning to heart. And then he’d thought Jake was avoiding him, which kind of relieved him, but then it seemed… odd.

Of course, Jake was neat beyond anyone else in his office, but when he walked past his cubicle it looked like nothing had moved at all. Like Jake hadn’t been in.

He didn’t want to ask anyone about Jake. If Jake had weird ideas about him then he didn’t need to add to that. Did not need Jake to get any more ideas about him than he might have already had.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was averse to taking an opportunity when one came up.

A couple of the graphics guys were looking for something, rummaging around and making a mess. He’d been watching them, wondering why Jake wasn’t helping them find whatever they were after… until one of them burst out with ‘where the hell is Jake when you need him?’ and another one’s head shot up and he replied with ‘what, you didn’t hear?’

Paul moved closer.

“Went crazy and got sent home. Seriously, man? You didn’t know? He totally flipped out, like psycho, we’re talking.”

Paul almost stopped in shock. Jake had what?

“Yeah,” a third put in with a suggestive look. “Apparently he’s been getting crazier since his breakup.”

“Hey,” Paul said to them sharply. The shock was quickly being replaced by a cold feeling. A deep something moving inside him. Fear. Jake’s breakup? Paul hadn’t intended to do more than listen in, to find out what he could. But this was gossip and this was freaking him out and he did not want to hear anymore. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear anymore gossip around here, got it?”

They looked at him. He doubted any of them knew exactly who he was, but still, neither did they seem keen on picking a fight. They shrugged and went back to what they’d been doing instead.

A break-up? What the hell had Jake been thinking? He’d told people they were dating before they’d ever even had a date and now they’d apparently broken up? This was getting way too weird for Paul. Way, way too weird.

Paul tried to steady his nerves. He wanted a coffee, desperately, and preferably spiked with something warming and whiskey-flavoured. Of course, he was at work, so that wasn’t going to happen.

Instead he tried to work for a while, and then went to find Kirsty. She was a girl who’d both know what was going on and be sensitive about it.

She was in her cubicle, and quickly went to push a tub of yoghurt out of sight when he came in.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked her.

“Ok.” She said, sounding a bit suspicious.

He sighed and leant against her desk.

“Jake.” He kept his voice low. “What happened?”

She gave him a long look. “Why you asking?” She finally demanded.

He liked the fact she wasn’t keen to tell him. It made him think she was unlikely to tell anyone much of anything. So if she knew anything about this supposed ‘breakup’ of Jake’s then she wouldn’t be all hot to tell everyone how he’d been tricked. “I didn’t know anything had happened. I’m worried about him. That’s all.”

Kirsty sighed and pursed her lips.

“You know his neat-thing? Well… it was getting worse and worse. People were talking a lot more than normal, but Jake was… so preoccupied… I don’t think he noticed. I don’t know. Anyway. Hillary confronted him…” Paul listened with a growing sensation of dread in his stomach. “… and then… Look, no one knows this but me. But she told him to go home and not to come back until he’d got help.” Kirsty looked sad. “So I guess he hasn’t.”

Paul blinked at her, a stab of pity hitting him in the stomach. “And that’s it?” he asked.

Ok. So Jake was perhaps a little crazy. But the poor thing. Paul didn’t want to feel sorry for him, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe Jake just needed someone to give him a hand. Apart from the whole crazy thing, he was a nice kid, really.

“Well yeah. Ok, so he flipped out a little, but it’s not like he went completely insane!” Kirsty flared at him.

“And no one’s bothered to call him or check on him?” He corrected coldly.

Poor Jake. He was probably home on his own. He must be lonely. Even people who were - unstable - got lonely, he was sure. That was probably half of it.

She stopped and then looked away.

“Right.” He said.

Right.

*****

Paul felt awkward, knocking on Jake’s door after the way he’d left that morning after he’d spent the night… but there was nothing else for it. Someone had to check on him.

And even if Jake had some weird ideas about him and had a bit of a creepy stalker thing going on… Paul couldn’t help but thinking about him and hoping he was ok.

Paul had to knock twice more before Jake answered the door.

And when he did Paul just wanted to pick him up and cradle him close.

Jake looked harried and flushed, and even if he’d done his hair it still looked flat and dull somehow.

And then Jake saw him and went even pinker and looked at the ground and said nothing.

“Jake. Hi.” Paul hesitated. This was awkward. He could hardly speak. It would have been so much easier just to touch him, hold him close. But he couldn’t. Obviously merely sticking up for Jake that while back had been enough to give him ideas. He didn’t want to make things any worse. Any weirder. “Uh… so you haven’t been at work.”

“No.” Jake breathed his answer, still not moving.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m ok.” His voice was so soft Paul barely caught it. And he didn’t look up.

The deep dread in Paul’s stomach grew. “Can I come in?” he asked.

Jake looked up at him, and Paul hoped desperately that it wasn’t fear that had flashed in Jake’s eyes before he looked down again and shook his head.

“Let me in.” Paul said quietly, hoping he was being gentle.

Jake ran his hands into his hair and clutched his head, moved inside.

Paul followed. Jake was hunched, looking at his feet. Paul looked down, but his shoes seemed fine. When he looked back up, though, Jake was shaking, wrapping his arms around himself.

He was sure Jake hadn’t been like this before. He would have noticed. Of course he would have. Ok, so he’d thought Jake might have been a little anal about being neat, a little messed up in what he told people about who he dated… but this was… this was something else.

“You going to be back at work soon?” He asked, hoping he was being encouraging.

Jake let out a keening moan and turned away, shaking his head. “No. I can’t. I can’t.” His shaking was worse.

Paul reached out for him. Jake shrank back but Paul was too worried to let him move away. He pulled Jake towards him and into a hug.

It wasn’t as much of a hug as he’d hoped. Jake stayed too tense for that.

“Why can’t you?” Paul asked. Jake went to pull away and Paul caught a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.

“Because everyone’s laughing at me. Because they’re talking about me. I can’t, I can’t,” Paul’s heart sank.

“They’re not. They’re worried about you, Jake.”

Jake shivered, shook his head.

“They are.” He whispered back.

“Look.” Paul began carefully. “I, uh… don’t mean to pry. Ok? But have you been to see anyone?”

The shaking got worse, and he was terribly afraid that Jake was going to cry. “No. No I can’t. I can’t, ok? I can’t…”

“Why not?” Paul was mystified. And then Jake was crying.

“I haven’t- I can’t! I have to finish. I can’t go out when it’s like this, I can’t leave a mess. I just have to keep- and then I can-” He broke off, covering his face.

“Jake,” Paul said quietly, running his hand up Jake’s back. Jake tried to shrug him away. “There’s no mess, ok? You’ve got everything completely spick and span, huh? I bet there’s nothing left to do. How about we go-”

“No, there is, there is,” Jake kept shaking his head, kept trying to pull away. “I can’t- not without...”

“What? What do you need to do?”He let go of Jake and gave him a gentle push so he’d show him. And Jake got the hint.

The small bathroom was spotless, scrubbed to a blinding white, but the smell of bleach was almost overpowering.

Jake picked up a worn cloth and immediately started scrubbing the grout between the tiles again. Perhaps Paul had caught him in the middle of something.

“I just have to finish up,” Jake said, drawing a couple of deep breaths which Paul thought must have burned his lungs with all that bleach around. But Jake was sounding calmer. Better. “And then. Then I’ll be ok. Just let me finish.”

Paul waited. It took Jake a lot longer to clean the tiles than he’d thought, but that was ok. And the way Jake then went at the taps made him surprised that the chrome didn’t all peel away.

But it was when Jake began on the already spotless floor that Paul began to realise there was no end in sight. That Jake had probably been going in circles since he got sent home.

“Jake. Come here.” He finally said.

Jake spared him a glance, no more.

“I’m nearly done,” he promised, a hitch in his voice. “I swear. I am.”

“No. Now.” Paul insisted.

“No. No, I can’t,” Jake sounded half panicked again.

Paul fell silent, decided to let Jake think he was letting it go. Until Jake walked past him and then he reached out and caught him, and pulled him into his arms.

If he hadn’t already been worried about Jake and if he was crazy and what he’d told people about him then he might have kissed him. Pulled him towards the bedroom and cuddled him and if that led to something else, then that was good, too. Told him how pretty his eyes were or something. Tried to distract him somehow.

As it was, he didn’t know how.

Jake let Paul hold him though. He rested his head against his chest and just let him hold him.

Paul wondered what to do next.

“Ok,” he whispered finally. “I’m going to be blunt, ok?” Jake eventually gave a tiny nod. “Now. We both know there’s something wrong, right?” Jake gave another reluctant nod. “Jake, I want to help you with this. And if that means I have to bully you into coming with me to see a doctor then that’s how it is. But we’re going, Jake. Now. Right now. And you don’t get to argue because I’m not giving you a choice. If I have to carry you out of here kicking and screaming then that’s what’s going to happen. So you might as well resign yourself to going. Now. Where are your shoes?”

Jake shrank, but he didn’t argue.

And it wasn’t long before he had shoes on and Paul had half steered him to his car and was driving him to the doctors.

While Jake looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world but there.

*****

Paul waited outside the psychologist’s room. He’d started bringing books to read, since he’d gone through the magazines the first few days. Weeks ago now.

Jake had had a lot of visits. For hours at once, days in a row, a lot of the time.

They did seem to be helping. Especially considering that the first week it had sometimes taken an hour or two to get Jake out of the house. Sometimes it had even taken a phone call to the psychologist to help to get him calm enough to leave.

Now Jake answered the door when Paul arrived and came to the car without even shaking. Now Jake didn’t seem to sweep the inside of his house with his eyes before he left as if to make sure everything was still as sterile and clean as it had been moments before.

So the visits definitely seemed to be helping. And Paul was so glad that he didn’t dare look into it more. Jake went quiet after the sessions, and while he was desperately curious about what the psychologist talked about with him, but he didn’t want to ask. But Jake certainly didn’t volunteer any information.

He’d spoken to Hillary, and thank god she’d understood, put Jake on sick leave. And he’d spoken to the higher ups to make sure no one cared he was leaving work every day for a couple of hours to take Jake where he needed to go. He just wasn’t sure Jake would do it if he didn’t prod him along.

Paul stood up with a smile for Jake when the door opened. He always did. He hoped it helped Jake to see someone friendly waiting for him on the way out.

The psychologist came out first.

He’d only seen her a couple of times.

“You must be Paul.” She said to him, walking over and sticking her hand out. She was small and plain and somehow unthreatening. He liked her. “I’m Dr. Hoskins.”

“Nice to meet you,” He said politely, shaking her hand. Jake had come out behind her. He was looking small today, looking at the floor. He sat down and seemed to deflate.

Paul wanted to go over and put an arm around him. Hold him. Something.

“Can I talk to you for a few moments?” Dr. Hoskins asked him.

He blinked. She wanted to talk to him?

“Of course…” He agreed, giving Jake another glance. He hadn’t moved.

Dr. Hoskin’s office was cluttered and felt safe and warm. But Paul couldn’t have imagined that Jake would have been able to walk in it without trying to tidy it those first days.

“Have a seat.” She didn’t lead him across to the desk, but across to a couple of couches by the window.

“So how’s Jake doing?” He asked her, fully expecting her to tell him she couldn’t tell him anything due to client confidentiality clauses or something.

“Better.” She said simply, smiling. “I think we got to him in time.”

“In time?” he asked, feeling slightly surprised. Maybe Jake had said she could talk to him. “What does that mean?”

“Paul. Jake has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It gets a fair amount of publicity.” Paul nodded slowly. Yeah. He’d heard of that. “What is means is that there’s a circuit in his brain that’s not functioning like it should. Instead of a thought being followed through, he gets stuck on a loop. There are things he can’t stop thinking about. That’s the Obsessive part. The Compulsive part is the fact that these repetitive thoughts compel him to perform actions. And those actions only reinforce the thoughts, so the cycle repeats itself.”

Paul nodded. “But he didn’t used to be like this.”

“There’s probably always been some measure of it within him.” She said mildly. “We find that there’s a measure of it within anyone. Rituals, counting, that sort of thing. Problems occur when it starts to interfere with daily life. When people can’t actually function anymore.”

Poor Jake at work was what came to mind.

“The worst part is for a lot of OCD sufferers, is that stress makes it worse, but the OCD itself makes them stressed. Again, it’s a cycle it’s very difficult to break out of. So I’m glad you brought him in. He could have gone on the way he was for a long time. There are a huge proportion of people with OCD who never manage to hold down a job, and I think Jake was well on the way to becoming one of them.”

It made Paul sick to think about it.

“I need to ask you something.” Dr. Hoskins leant forward in her chair. “Now. Jake has a pretty strong social anxiety which is exacerbated by the OCD and maybe arises from it too. He thinks people think he’s a freak, that they look at him funny, that they laugh at him behind his back…” Paul felt a cold shiver run down his back.

“He’s been teased a little. But nothing really malicious.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head.

Paul sat in silence a moment. Oh, Jake.

“At some point too, you told him people laughed at him.”

The air left his lungs like he’d been hit. “Oh shit.” He had, too. Paul rubbed his face. He’d made everything worse. He finally looked back up at Dr. Hoskins.

She was smiling at him.

“Maybe you’d like to tell him why you told him that.” She suggested. He felt cold. How much did she know? She couldn’t know everything, right?

“Right.” He nodded carefully. “Of course.”

*****

He pulled up outside Jake’s unit, but Jake hesitated, looking at him. His hands clenched in his lap.

“Do you want to come in?” Jake asked him very quietly.

Paul felt a wave of something like pride. He bet it had taken Jake a lot to ask. And then he felt like a schmuck.

“I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something.” Jake nodded. Paul sighed and looked at the steering wheel. Better to tell Jake here, where he wasn’t in Jake’s house if he upset him. Better here, where Jake could decided when to leave. “Ok. You know that day, when I told you that… I told you that you were pathetic and a laughingstock?” Jake met his gaze with a slight tremor. A determined, defiant look.

“Yes.” He said. Paul doubted he’d ever forget.

“I should never have said those things. I freaked out and I … I lashed out at you. I didn’t mean what I said. I just panicked when I saw my name on your letter. But I should have asked you about it. I shouldn’t have just…”

“What letter?”

Paul blinked. “You know- I brought your mail. It had got mixed in with ours.”

“What letter? What are you talking about?” Jake seemed genuinely confused.

“The letter. It said your name, and then mine in brackets. I just got weirded out, that’s all.”

“No.” Jake shook his head. “I’ve never had a letter addressed to both of us. Why would I have?”

“I know what I saw, alright?” Paul felt sick. Jake wasn’t crazy, he was just… just Jake. So why was he denying this? “And if that’s not enough- that morning I left.” Jake looked away at last. “Don’t ask me why, ok, but I… but I listened to your messages. And some guy called Joey had left a message wanting to know about Rex.”

“So what? I don’t get it,” Jake looked lost.

“So you think my name coming up twice around you like that is what, some sort of coincidence?”

“But it wasn’t your name, it was Rex. You’re Paul.”

“So why would you call me Rex?”

“I didn’t! You’re not, you’re Paul!”

“Paul. M. Rexer.” Paul said tightly.

Jake blinked at him and the moment stretched out. And then dawning comprehension lit Jake’s soft eyes.

“Rex,” he said, in a voice which suddenly shook. Paul waited to hear what he’d say. “Rex was my ex-boyfriend, you-” Jake burst out, then gave an odd choked noise and ducked out of the car before Paul could think to say another word.

“Shit.” He said to himself. So what, the friends had been ringing up to find about the ex? Not him. And the letter… had been addressed to Jake and his ex. Not to him. Which meant that Jake hadn’t done anything creepy like following him, like pretending they were seeing each other to people and then telling them they’d broken up. Which meant… he’d panicked. He’d been a huge fucking bastard. For no reason at all.

Paul hurried to get out of the car and follow him. Of course, hurrying never worked and he ended up being slower than he normally would have been once he’d untangled himself from the damn seatbelt and managed to get his key stuck in the ignition.

Jake had already gone.

*****

Jake hadn’t answered his door, hadn’t let him in. Paul was pretty sure he wasn’t going to.

In the end he went home and hoped that Jake wasn’t back to scrubbing floors. He couldn’t stop the image though, couldn’t stop thinking back to how frantic Jake had been that day, cleaning his bathroom. Unable to stop himself.

He picked up his phone.

Jake answered on the third ring.

“Hi, it’s me.” Paul said quietly.

“Oh.”

“Are you ok? What are you doing?” He immediately wondered if that had been the smartest thing to say straight out. But he was worried.

“I’m fine.” Jake did sound ok, too. Quiet, but ok. “I’m just… I’m not cleaning uncontrollably, if that’s what you’re asking.” He sounded slightly bitter, and Paul kicked himself.

“I’m sorry.” He said, as sincerely as he could. “I’m… I’m an idiot, you’re right. Rex just isn’t that common a name though, you know. I jumped to conclusions and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Jake. I’m… sorry.” For the things he’d said, and the way he’d acted. For not having been there more.

There was silence down the line, and he remembered how quietly Jake had breathed while he was a sleep. Which led him to thinking about how peaceful Jake had looked sleeping. While led him to thinking about the other things they’d done in Jake’s bed.

Paul closed his eyes.

Jake didn’t speak.

Paul cleared his throat. “So, uh… pick you up, same time?”

Another short silence.

Paul wanted to pick Jake up in the morning, kiss his soft cheek, maybe build on that.

The knowledge that Jake hadn’t done anything like what he’d thought, the idea that he’d overreacted entirely… it was a heavy weight in his stomach. Except at the same time, it freed him. It wasn’t a problem that he liked Jake now. He didn’t have to argue with himself about the wisdom in being attracted to someone who’d tried to trap him or someone a little stalkerish. He could just be attracted to Jake. And savour it.

“Uh, look,” Jake began. “Paul. I really appreciate you coming and driving me around and checking on me. But… Dr. Hoskins and I have been talking about this for a while, and … it’s probably time that I started doing things for myself. You know.”

The air felt like it had been sucked out of Paul’s chest. He felt winded. “Right. Yeah. Of course.” He tried to sound positive. This was a big step for Jake. This was moving in the right direction. And yet, he still felt hollow.

“I feel like I can do it, now. And I have to start. I can’t rely on other people forever.” Jake went on.

Paul closed his eyes. “No, you’re right. I understand. Yeah.”

“Cool.” Jake had gone quiet again.

“Yeah. Ok. So, uh… so let me know, right? If you do need a lift anytime. Or if you need anything. Anything at all, right? And anytime. And just because you call doesn’t mean you aren’t independent or that you can’t take care of yourself, you know? But I’ll come. Anytime you need me.”

Inside, Paul pondered the difference between ‘want’ and ‘need’.

“Sure.” Jake agreed. “Thanks, Paul.”

“No worries.” Paul answered, a thick knot forming in his throat. “You’ve got my number.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. Right. Well, call me, ok?”

“I’ll see you later, Paul,” Jake said quietly, and then he was gone.

*****

“Paul,” Hillary thanked him as he held the door open for her. The end of another long week and he was tired. She looked tired too.

“Good news, isn’t it?” She added then.

“Getting the rights to the new Cresswick book?” He asked blankly.

She laughed. “No. Jake.”

Paul blinked, his chest tightening a little at the mention of the name. He missed Jake. Not that he’d ever spent much time with him, apart from that one day. Apart from those hours accumulated over maybe two months driving him around. But he missed him.

“What…?” He sounded blank and felt silly.

Hillary just laughed and nudged him gently.

“Everyone will be pleased to have him back. Don’t play shy with me, Paul. He told me.”

“Right.” Paul agreed. He knew he sounded surprised, confused. Jake was coming back to work? Hillary knew? Jake had told her? And not him?

He tried to ignore the sting.

“See you next week, Paul,” Hillary waved, heading towards her car.

He watched her go.

*****

Paul was at work extra early on Monday.

Jake wasn’t.

He suspected it meant Jake wasn’t coming back to work as soon as he’d thought. After all, Hillary had said nothing about when this would occur. He’d just hoped, more than anything, that Jake would be in early, like he’d used to be, and that he’d be able to catch him, talk to him.

Other staff started to trickle in, so Paul got another coffee and settled down to get some good work done.

Nine on the dot, and there was a commotion, a burst of laughter and excited talking out of place for a Monday morning so early.

Paul got to his feet and went to look out of his office.

Down across the floor of cubicles he could see a small group of people, growing as staff appeared and began to congregate.

And there was Jake. Jake in the middle of it all, absolutely grinning, looking pleased as punch. Almost glowing and looking fit and healthy…

Better than Paul had ever seen him.

Paul wanted to go down, to push through the people around him shaking his hands and welcoming him back, and to take Jake into his arms.

Except that Jake hadn’t called him for weeks. Hadn’t answered his calls or responded to his messages. He hadn’t even told him he was coming back to work.

Paul sighed and sat back down at his computer.

He wanted to see Jake badly. But he wasn’t sure Jake wanted to see him.

*****

It was just before lunch that Paul went downstairs to make some photocopies and just happened to walk past Jake’s cubicle.

Jake was there, working quietly.

Paul stepped in and their closeness made him ache.

“Welcome back.” He said softly.

Jake looked around, and then offered him a cautiously friendly smile. “Thanks.” He said simply. “It’s nice to be back.”

Paul gathered his courage. “You look really well.” He said.

“Thanks.” Jake answered, but his smile had fallen somewhat.

They watched each other for a moment, then Paul finally sucked in a breath and leant down.

Of course, he hadn’t intended to kiss Jake. Not entirely. But he’d suddenly found himself overwhelmed with the need to touch him, to somehow show him how much he cared about him and liked him… and so he bent to kiss his cheek, with the idea of moving towards his mouth.

Jake ducked his head slightly. A coldness settled over Paul. He’d hoped, really hoped, that he hadn’t entirely blown things. Maybe he had.

“Look,” Jake said, looking awkward. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m not-”

“No, no.” Paul shook his head, feeling foolish. He meant to tell Jake that it was ok, but he couldn’t find the words.

He settled for clearing his throat. “Well. Glad to see you so well.” His tone was heavy no matter how much he’d hoped it was light. Didn’t matter. Not really.

Jake nodded, looking down at his hands.

Paul took his leave.

*****

Jake was like a new man. He seemed happier and more lively. He talked more with other staff, ate lunch with them; he laughed more.

It made Paul ache. It was like the little spark he’d seen inside Jake had suddenly filled him with light- and now everyone could see it. It felt like losing something. Like he’d been robbed of something. And he hated it.

So he avoided Jake. He didn’t want to be pushed away again, and Jake had made it clear that he wasn’t really interested in friendship, even if Paul had been there for him all those weeks. Even if Paul had kept calling to check on him even when Jake never answered. Never responded.

Melissa appeared in his office doorway, smiling.

“Paul, we’re all going to go out for drinks after work. Join us?”

“Everyone?” he found himself asking. That seemed like too many people, surely.

She laughed. “Ok, whatever. Me and Kirsty and Jake and most of the floor crew. Like a welcome back thing.”

Ugh. Paul almost couldn’t believe how drastically things had changed.

“Ah, I can’t tonight.” He found himself answering, his lips moving without any thought.

“No worries, then. Maybe next time?” She invited, and then slipped away, leaving Paul to wrestle with something that felt a lot like jealously.

*****

“Hi.” Jake said, slipping into the chair across from his.

Paul looked at him, found himself offering the smaller man a smile. “Hi.” He said. Jake was being friendly to him. More, Jake had chosen to sit with him in the lunchroom.

“Busy week?” Jake asked, opening his lunch.

“Yeah, something like that.” Paul agreed. “Just not managing my time well the last few days.”

Jake’s smile was amused. Paul doubted he had that problem.

“So I heard you were the one Cresswick wanted to work with?” An innocent enough question, Paul supposed as he nodded. He hoped it was, anyway.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “He’ll be in in a few days.”

“What a coup.” Jake said with a smile. “Hot shot author changes publishing house… and you get picked to be the one to work with him.”

Paul shrugged and smiled. He was good at what he did. But he was still pleased, Jake was right.

“How about you?” he asked. “Anything exciting going on?”

Jake laughed. “Not really. You know.”

“No?” Paul asked, half surprised, half hopeful. “I thought… I thought you might be interested in that promotion that’s going.”

“What, me?” Jake’s voice had risen. “Oh no. No, I’m not applying.”

“No? Why not? You’re not interested?”

Jake blinked, looking a bit confused. Stunned. “Well. I’m not… I mean, I don’t have the experience.”

Paul shrugged. “You’re qualified. People really respect the work you do.”

Jake looked down at his lunch. “I don’t know that excessive organisation is something they’re looking for in a candidate.” He finally said softly.

“No.” Paul wasn’t going to lie to him, but he wasn’t going to let Jake keep thinking that was an issue, either. “But organisation in general, and time management skills, and details; they’re all really important. You’re better at all that than anyone else around here. And you work hard, Jake. Don’t think no one ever noticed all the extra hours you pull.”

Jake went pink. “All that time off though… I- I don’t know.”

Paul smiled and shrugged. “It was sick leave, Jake. I don’t think anything more has been said about it. Officially? It’s just sick leave.”

Jake let out a short breath and shot Paul a half smile. “Maybe.” he agreed. But he still looked wary.

“Definitely.” Paul said more sincerely. “Jake, honestly. People ask you for your advice, they take their problems to you. They respect your work. I really think you could have a chance at it.”

“I don’t know.” Jake shook his head and looked away, then smiled and gave a small shrug. Paul thought that was enough for now.

*****

Paul sat at the bar and tried to look at his drink and keep his eyes away from the smaller man on the other side of the room. Jake was tucked into a booth with a whole lot of people Paul hadn’t thought he’d even known before. Jake was being friendly to him now, and he suspected he’d be able to go and join in and be welcome, but he just couldn’t bring himself to move.

Some Christmas party this had turned out to be. Paul’s heart wasn’t in it.

“Want some company?” Hillary took the stool next to him.

He shrugged. He didn’t really want to answer yes or no.

“I thought you and Jake were friends.” She said after a moment.

“Yeah. I guess.” Paul answered, unable to keep some of the bitterness from his tone. He’d gone so far out of his way for Jake, and to be pushed away and avoided had really hurt. This strange ‘friendship’ that had sprung up between them didn’t salve the wound either. It just made him uneasy and regretful.

“Oh.” Hillary sounded surprised. “Oh!” She looked at him with big eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul growled, tearing his eyes away from Jake’s smiling face.

“You and he…” Hillary said suggestively, gesturing. Paul sighed and shook his head.

“No.” He didn’t really want to go into it.

“Why not?” She demanded loudly. He winced. “Is he gay?” Paul nodded. “How do you know? And do not tell me you ‘just know’ or I’ll hurt you.”

He sighed and gave her a look. Raised his eyebrows briefly.

“You mean you- oh. Oh.” Hillary was catching on. Paul shook his head and sighed. “Well,” she tried. “What happened? That’s it? Come on, Paul! Did you ask him out?” Paul didn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time…

He hadn’t ever asked Jake out.

He wondered if he should. He could ask him out, make one last effort. Give Jake one more opportunity to wound him and then accept defeat if Jake said no. When Jake said no.

But then… Jake had been friendly again recently.

The thing was that Jake had ignored his calls and had been so stand-offish when he’d got back to work. Paul just didn’t know what to think.

One more try.

And then finally accept that Jake wasn’t interested in him.

The evening dragged. How was he supposed to ask Jake out, to even speak to him, when he never seemed to be alone? Not even for a moment.

He was always talking to people, surrounded by his new friends. Paul couldn’t help the bitter hurt he felt. It didn’t go away, no matter how much he told himself that Jake deserved friends, that it was a good thing. The fact was that he’d been Jake’s friend before anyone else, and yet he was the one here who wasn’t spending any time at all with Jake.

Paul wondered if he shouldn’t leave, if he shouldn’t just go home. It seemed so pointless to keep hanging out here when he wasn’t enjoying it at all.

He stood up from the bar and went to the men’s room.

It wasn’t empty. It never was at the moments when he’d have liked it to be.

He ignored the two other occupants and went about his business.

The door opened as one of them left, and a smaller figure moved through the door right after him.

Paul’s heart sped up.

He’d never seen Jake in a bathroom before- which meant nothing, granted. But now he was here and Paul couldn’t stop overanalysing. Because Jake had been shy before. But not just shy; he’d been shy and obsessive compulsive about cleaning. And bathrooms-

The other occupant left the room too, leaving Paul alone with Jake.

He turned, intending to walk straight out of there. The bathroom was not the place to confront Jake or to try and engage him in conversation. Even just being in there with him was… weird.

Jake was standing at the sinks though, his hands full of paper towel.

Paul couldn’t help but look.

“Hey, what happened?” He found the words leaving his mouth without any thought.

Jake shot him an amused look in the spotted mirror. “My drink decided it wanted to make the intimate acquaintance of my shirt.” He said dryly.

The stain Paul eyed wasn’t a small one, either. It looked pretty much like a whole drink had found its way onto Jake.

“Ah well.” Jake said with a grin, examining how wet the fabric of his shirt was. “Not my favourite shirt, anyway.”

Paul smiled. “So, uh… I guess you could do with a new drink then.” Jake blinked at him, and Paul found himself faltering. “Can I buy you a drink?” he forced himself to ask.

“Ok.” Jake agreed with a quirk of his lips. “If I can buy you one.”

Paul stopped. Was Jake flirting with him?

Jake dumped the wet towels into the bin and then eyed him. “How about a dance first?” he asked.

And just like that, Paul’s evening was looking up.

Paul followed Jake back down the narrow passage and back into the main room of the bar.

Jake looked over his shoulder at him, his eyes hard to read.

Was he shy? Regretting asking Paul to dance?

Paul didn’t want to believe that. Jake wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to. Surely…

And then Jake was reaching out a hand behind him; reaching his hand out to Paul.

Paul hesitated a moment, and Jake stopped still in amongst the crowd.

They felt like an island. Paul wasn’t sure he could have told anyone anything about anything else going on in the room at all. It was him and Jake. And there was nothing else.

He laced his fingers with Jake’s, saw Jake’s mouth curl into a smile.

And Jake led him on towards the dance floor.

There was something obnoxious and modern playing. It didn’t much appeal to Paul, but he didn’t care. He was next to Jake, holding Jake’s hand, watching Jake smile at him. For that, he’d listen to anything.

He was still glad that it wasn’t too loud, though.

There were a few bodies moving around them, arms flying and figures jumping.

Jake pulled him past them, to a darker spot. A quieter spot.

Jake turned to him, and placed Paul’s arms around his waist. Then he reached up and smoothed Paul’s collar intently for a moment.

Paul let him, sure than Jake would look up when he was ready.

Jake’s gaze caressed his chest first, travelled over his shoulders, up his throat, to his lips… and then Jake looked him in the eye.

“Hi.” Paul found himself saying.

Jake giggled, his eyes laughing with his mouth. Paul felt pounds lighter. “Hi.” Jake finally responded, dropping his gaze for a moment again.

They were moving a little. Not moving to the music or the rapid beat. Just swaying together, holding on. Paul had never danced like this before. Kind of a slow dance, but different. It didn’t seem to matter what the music was. He doubted that music was even necessary at all.

“So. Ex-boyfriend called Rex, huh?” Paul asked, not entirely sure what the response would be.

“Yeah,” Jake answered, giving him a slightly naughty smile and a glance through his lashes. “It was over before it began, really. I kinda just… didn’t tell people when the breakup actually happened. I never thought it would matter.”

“I can’t believe you actually know someone called Rex.” Paul couldn’t help but still be flabbergasted by this. There couldn’t be many of them really. Could there?

“Not his real name. He was a Mark. Mark Bolend.” Paul blinked.

“But you called him Rex?”

“Everyone did. He loved the band. T-Rex. You know? And had basically the same name. So he was Rex.”

“Huh.”

Jake just laughed again. “I went for the promotion.” He suddenly announced.

“You did?” Paul felt something tight and hot swell inside his chest.

“Yeah.” Jake looked happy, bright.

“I’m really proud of you.” Jake shrugged and Paul shook his head. “I’m serious, Jake. I’m really, really proud of you. You- you’re doing so well.”

Jake shrugged again, looking at his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve come a long way.” He agreed quietly, and then sighed. “I need to thank you.” He looked up into Paul’s eyes, his expression solemn. “I don’t know if I ever would have made it to see a doctor at all if you hadn’t come. And then you drove me around and called… It really meant something.”

Paul had warm shivers over his skin. He wondered if Jake could feel them too. “I was glad to do it.”

“But I wanted to thank you all the same. I couldn’t at the time, but…”

“No, I understand. It was… a rough patch. And I know part of that was my fault, so I want to apologise. I was a real prick.”

Jake looked like he was laughing silently for a moment, then shrugged.

“I- I’ve missed you.” Paul dared to tell him. “I’ve been- jealous since you came back to work.”

“I-” Jake swallowed and then looked away. “I hope you understand. I’m sorry about ignoring your calls. And then not talking to you. I just… needed some time… I had things to work through… I needed-”

“I understand. I do.” Paul agreed. “But I’ve been jealous all the same.”

Jake looked shyly pleased, and offered Paul another smile. “Jealous?” Jake finally asked after they’d been swaying together still for a while. He asked like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah. I really like you, Jake.” Paul couldn’t help but feel Jake’s body against his, couldn’t help but pay attention to his warmth. “I was afraid I’d blown all my chances being such an idiot. And then… you’ve been so much more outgoing. Having lunch with people, hanging out with people I didn’t even know you knew. And I was jealous.”

Jake watched his collar again. Paul might have thought he was discomfited by this, but that wasn’t the vibe he got from him. Jake did not seem unhappy about this. A little embarrassed maybe, but not upset.

“I thought maybe you’d join us.” Jake finally said softly.

“I think I was too jealous to want to share you.” Paul admitted. “And… I wasn’t sure you’d… forgiven me, I guess.”

Jake smiled. “And here I was thinking maybe you only liked me when I was… crazy.”

“Honey,” Paul absolutely ached for him inside. Jake flicked his gaze away and Paul lifted one of his hands to tip Jake’s chin up. To make him look at him. “Jake. You’ve never been crazy. You’re not crazy. You’re you. Understand? You’ve just gone through a rough patch. That’s all. And I’ve always liked you. I think that’s why I was such a prick to you. I was still crazy about you, even when I thought… well. When I thought something was really off. You’re special, Jake. I can’t understand how I worked with you for so long without ever really noticing how special.”

Jake gave him a wavering smile and a shrug. “I do try to hide my amazingness.” He said, with an attempt at levity.

Paul laughed. “You make everyone jealous when you don’t.” He was aware that Jake was holding onto him tighter, than Jake’s eyes were shinier than before. He leant in as well, putting their heads much closer together. Jake’s eyes fluttered closed and then he rested his forehead against Paul’s chest, right near the base of his neck. “I’m serious.” Paul murmured. And he was.

Jake seemed to melt against him. Paul closed his eyes as well, breathing Jake in and savouring the feel of them pressed together.

“I missed you so much.” Paul didn’t mean to speak out loud.

“I missed you too.” He wasn’t even sure he’d heard it, but there was the hot wash of breath against his chest. The soft brush of lips against his skin.

Paul went still. Watched Jake raise his eyes to his.

“I, uh… I got your shirt all wet too.” Jake’s voice sounded lower than normal.

Paul laughed. “I’m really not too worried about that.” He assured Jake. “Just let me know if you want to take me up on that drink.”

Jake smiled, looking down at his shirt, and then raised his gaze back to Paul’s.

“Would it be too forward of me to just tell you to take me home with you?”

Paul felt his heart lurch. “Forward in the best way possible,” he admitted quietly.

Jake looked up at him and smiled happily. “Um. So… now?”

Paul grinned at him. “In just a minute,” he assured Jake, and then leaned in to kiss him.

*****

Jake’s fingers were wound through his and Jake was sending him hungry looks. If the taxi driver would have given them even a few moments without glancing at them in the mirror, Paul would have claimed those soft pink lips again.

Paul’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t believe it. Finally, after all these months, Jake was coming home with him.

He paid the taxi driver too much. He didn’t care. Jake was already getting out of the car and he wasn’t going to hang around for change.

Paul was grabbing Jake’s hand and hurrying up the garden path and fumbling for his keys before the taxi had even pulled away.

He let them into the house, shut the door, and then looked at Jake studying the hallway and the lounge room.

Paul winced. The rooms were presentable, but not clean and neat and spick and span like Jake’s home would be.

He grabbed Jake and kissed him again to distract him. Jake giggled and Paul ended up smiling too. Jake obviously knew that the kissing was an attempt to divert his attention...

But the kissing part was good.

Neither of them pulled away, and Paul ended up pulling Jake with him, kissing him as he pulled him along with him towards his bedroom, reaching to slide a hand up Jake’s back, reaching to pull his hips closer.

The bounced off a couple of walls along the way, but Jake would only giggle a little into his mouth, then kiss him more firmly again and his fingers pulling on Paul’s shirt or sliding into Paul’s hair.

Paul could cope with that.

He pinned Jake against his bedroom door and kissed him hard, pressing his body flush against Jake’s for a moment, before discovering that one of the buttons on the cuff of his shirt was stuck in one of Jake’s belt loops and he couldn’t reach out to open it and let them in.

They both laughed and spent a few moments separating themselves… and then Paul opened the door.

Paul cringed as they entered . It was worse than he’d thought. But he’d been in such a tearing hurry, and no way no way no way had he expected to have any company tonight.

“I’m sorry, it’s such a mess,” he apologised, moving to pick up a couple of the shirts he’d tried on and then discarded before running from the house. He hung them over the back of the chair rather than leave them on the end of his bed, realised there was nothing he could do about the items scattered on the top of his drawers. “I was late and I didn’t expect for-”

“That’s ok,” Jake said, and he sounded firm; sounded sincere.

Paul looked at him, found Jake watching him. Watching him like there was nothing else in the world he’d rather be looking at.

He wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at him like that before.

Paul stared back at Jake. Jake, who was letting his jacket slide off his shoulders with a sinuous roll of his torso and letting it fall to the ground.

Jake’s fingers moved to his shirt. He continued unbuttoning it, let it fall open. All the time watching Paul with those beautiful, needy eyes.

Paul hungrily watched his chest and belly appear, his attention caught by the trail of hair heading south from Jake’s belly button.

The little ripple of Jake’s stomach brought his attention back to Jake’s expression. He’d given a little giggle, and the smile was still on his face. His cheeks were pink, and Paul had to smile back at him.

Jake shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, let it slide down his arms.

Paul watched him hold the shirt in one hand, hanging to the ground. For a moment he thought Jake had frozen there, but then Jake tremored slightly. Then his fingers opened and he dropped the shirt to the floor.

The shirt fell in a softly crumpled heap, half on Jake’s jacket. Paul stared at the items of clothing for a moment, trying to make sense of it.

Surely Jake wasn’t…?

Paul looked at him, absorbed Jake’s pink cheeks, his clenched fist, his determined look and set jaw. The faraway look in Jake’s eyes. And his heart melted.

Jake turned his face up to be kissed as Paul swooped on him, relaxed against Paul’s chest.

“Jake,” Paul murmured to him, running his fingers down Jake’s back and feeling him shiver slightly.

He kissed his forehead, his nose, his mouth, lingered there for a moment, tasting Jake and fighting the urge to give in to his hunger for him entirely. But there was something else he needed to do.

Jake’s breathing was sharp as he moved lower, kissing the line of Jake’s throat, then each collarbone. He move onto his knees and pressed his lips and nose to Jake’s sternum. Jake moved his hands, rested one on Paul’s shoulder and slid the fingers of the other into his hair.

A quick look up confirmed that Jake’s eyes were closed, and Paul smiled against his soft, warm, skin, and moved his mouth lower.

Jake huffed a breath as if he might giggle when Paul smoothed his lips over his stomach, and then stilled apart from a tremor of expectation when Paul reached the waist of his trousers.

Paul smiled again, drew back slightly from Jake’s warm skin.

Jake opened his eyes and looked down at him, his expression turning from soft and hungry to puzzled as Paul reached for the shirt and jacket and picked them up.

Paul brushed a kiss over Jake’s open mouth as he stood up. and then stepped away, shaking out the shirt.

“What-” Jake started softly, and then hesitated. Paul finished hanging the shirt and jacket on a spare coat hanger, then turned back to find Jake watching him with moist eyes.

“Paul, I’m trying to be normal here,” Jake said with a half laugh. Paul supposed he had been kind of obvious, but then Jake wiped his eyes.

Paul felt something tighten in his chest, moved to wrap Jake in his arms and kiss him before Jake could go anywhere.

Jake held him back tightly and Paul tried to convey everything he felt in another soft kiss.

“Normal’s overrated.” Paul finally murmured, stroking his fingers down Jake’s back.

Jake looked up at him with watery eyes and then grinned.

He gave a half giggle as two tears slipped down his cheeks.

And Paul caught them before they fell.