Nemesis: Loud Like Love - 19. Chapter Nineteen: Protect Me From What I Want

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Protect Me From What I Want

‘Are you sure you want to go to that concert?’ asked Mandira, shouldering her bag. ‘I mean, after what happened at the last one . . .’

They set off towards the exit together. ‘Things are completely different now,’ said Dave. ‘It won’t be like last time. Besides, I really am a fan. The Oxymorons are an awesome band.’

‘I know.’ Mandira smiled. ‘But . . . I just don’t want either of you guys to get hurt.’

‘Bit late for that, to be honest. It really will be fine, though. Things have been fine. Nick and I have even had coffee since Manchester, like, three times, and everything’s normal. We’re . . . friends. Just friends. It works.’

Mandira looked skeptical. ‘If you say so.’

‘I do say so. Mandi, it’s fine.’ Dave mostly believed himself. Mostly.

And so, he found himself in Sapswell again, different venue this time, watching Nick go on stage, and unreservedly adoring him from his place at the back of the crowd. He looked gorgeous as ever, wearing a pale green tank top today, grey jeans clinging to his hips.

They played the new song again, Nothing, and it was just as brutal as Dave remembered, just as heart wrenching. He loved the sound they had created for it, so different from what they normally did, with the synths and the delays and the feedback loops Stuart made. It was impressive, how far they’d come in the past year and a half. The band was tight, playing together as one united force of sound, rather than each just doing their own thing. Matt’s backing vocals had improved greatly as well. His voice complemented Nick’s nicely.

About halfway through the show, Alan appeared at Dave’s side. ‘You all right, mate?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ said Dave. ‘Just enjoying the show.’

‘I thought maybe, after what happened last time . . .’

Dave rolled his eyes. ‘Everyone keeps saying that . . . It’s water under the bridge. He’s . . . much better now. Think what happened that time gave him the shock he needed to, you know, stop. To understand what he was doing to himself. You know?’

Alan nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, I trust you to know what you’re doing. You really have forgiven him, then?’

Dave shrugged. ‘Yeah, I suppose. Seems to me like he’s punished himself enough, to be honest. Couldn’t see that go on.’ Because I love him.

He hadn’t talked much to Alan about Nick. Alan had been angrier than Dave had been himself, when he found out that Nick had cheated. For a moment, Dave had been afraid Alan would seek Nick out and actually give him a beating. He and Matt had had a huge row over Matt’s insistence to remain Nick’s friend, in spite of what Nick had done. As a result of Alan’s strong feelings on the subject, Dave hadn’t told him anything about what had happened in Manchester. Didn’t seem like Matt knew either. If he did, Dave somehow doubted he would have been able to keep from asking Dave about it.

After the concert was over, Dave and Alan made their way over to the stage. Alan unabashedly embraced Matt and gave him a kiss. It put a smile on Dave’s face. Alan had come so far, matured so much, stopped denying himself at every turn. He was figuring out how to be open and honest about how he felt, how to be in a relationship. At least someone was getting this shit right, he thought.

Zoë was there as well, hugging Nick when Dave turned up. Dave shook Stuart’s hand in the meantime. Stuart had grown on him. He knew from Matt that he’d been there for Nick a lot over the past few months, and Dave could appreciate that, knew that Nick needed friends who could be there for him. He was very happy that he’d never told Nick that Matt had confirmed his suspicions about Brian. Matt had been an invaluable ally for Nick, he knew that. All this was important.

‘Well played,’ he told Stuart, and Stuart gave him a smile.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Glad you’re here. Glad you two are getting along again.’ He sounded like he genuinely meant it.

Dave wasn’t sure how much Stuart knew, but he said, ‘Thanks. Me too,’ and let go of his hand.

Then Nick was free of Zoë, and Dave turned to him, smiling. He wanted to hug him, but held himself back. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go. ‘That was amazing,’ he told him, and watched as Nick blushed slightly. How was he this adorable? ‘I was blown away. Seriously.’

Matt put an arm around Nick’s shoulders and grinned at Dave. ‘Nick is going to be the greatest star to come out of this country since David fucking Bowie.’

‘Blasphemy!’ Nick exclaimed in mock horror. ‘No one can ever reach that level of greatness. Not even me.’ He grinned, clearly not yet down from his stage high.

Chas and Ellie materialised out of the crowd to give their compliments as well, and Dave ended up standing a bit to the side, watching his friends—among whom he was happy to once again count Nick—talk and laugh and make jokes at one another’s expense. He wished that this moment could last forever, that he could see them all this happy, always.

‘Right,’ said Zoë. ‘You guys get to it and pack down so we can go home already.’ She turned to the group. ‘I’ve got room for three people plus Nick, if anyone needs a lift back to Windfield.’

Matt immediately raised his hand. ‘Alan and I volunteer as tribute!’

Chas shook his head. ‘I’m staying in Sapswell tonight.’ He squeezed Ellie’s hand.

Zoë turned to Dave. ‘How about you?’

Dave hesitated. He spared a minute glance for Nick. ‘If . . . if it’s okay with . . .’

Nick smiled. ‘Yeah, it’s fine.’

‘In that case, thank you very much. I’d love to. Okay, let me help you lot with the pack down so we can get out of here quicker.’

With Alan, Dave, and Chas helping out, the pack down took hardly any time at all, and soon Dave was sitting in Zoë’s Vauxhall Astra, in the back with Matt and Alan. He had been in this car so many times, but not in almost a year now. He was reminded of sitting here, in the backseat, hand in hand with Nick nearly two years ago, after they had run away for a night to get away from Dave’s father, and Zoë had picked them up. He recalled driving Nick, Matt, Alan, and Stuart to Windfield Green after the concert at Café Underworld, for Matt’s birthday celebration. And he remembered taking Nick home after the trial against Craig, and putting him to bed when they got there.

So many of his memories, the ones that mattered, involved Nick. Good and bad.

Zoë suggested taking them all to their doorsteps, but they declined. Walking from Nick and Zoë’s house wouldn’t take long for any of them. In an unconscious act of chivalry, Dave took Nick’s guitar case out of the trunk and handed it to him. Matt and Alan made their farewells, and Dave knew he should go home, but the dominant part of him really didn’t want to. He wanted to talk to Nick, hang out like in the old days. That seemed unrealistic, though.

‘Come in for a cup of tea, Dave,’ said Zoë, as though sensing his indecision, ending the silence.

‘Erm, I don’t want to intrude,’ he said.

‘You wouldn’t be intruding,’ said Nick softly, but didn’t look directly at Dave.

‘Okay. Sure. Thanks.’

* * *

Richard put the kettle on the moment they walked inside. He would have liked to have come to the concert, but he’d had to work late. Nick felt suddenly nervous. It was strange having Dave in his house again. The last time he had been there, it was to break up. Now they sat in the kitchen, drinking Lady Grey and listening to Richard complaining about paperwork, which felt wonderfully normal and familiar and right. He wished he could hold Dave’s hand. Kiss him.

He and Dave still had some tea left when Zoë and Richard decided it was time to retire. Being left alone with Dave was downright terrifying, but Nick didn’t want to show it, didn’t want to ask him to leave, and so they stayed, finishing their tea and talking.

When they were done, Nick took their mugs to the sink. He heard Dave stand up.

‘Hey.’ Dave came over and leaned against the counter next to him. ‘I meant what I said before. You were really, truly amazing. Watching you on that stage, you . . . It’s amazing how far you’ve come. The whole band, but especially you.’

Nick’s heart hammered in his chest as glanced at Dave. ‘Thank you. I’m glad you came. I’m . . . glad it didn’t turn out like last time. I’m sorry, I was . . .’

‘I know. You were hurting. A lot. I don’t blame you.’

Nick turned around and leaned his back against the sink with a sigh. ‘You should blame me. I was an arsehole. I was so selfish, everything was about me. I never wanted to be like that. I never want to be like that again.’

‘You’re not like that,’ said Dave softly. ‘Not really. I know exactly who you are, and that person wasn’t really you. That’s the truth.’ He put a hand gently on Nick’s shoulder, and Nick turned his face towards him.

He never knew who kissed whom first, but the next thing he knew, his lips were on Dave’s and he had grabbed onto the back of his hoodie. The taste of Dave that filled his mouth, his scent in his nostrils, the feel of his full lips, slightly chapped right now, once again felt like coming home.

Dave pulled back, taking a few heavy breaths, resting his forehead against Nick’s. ‘I should go . . .’ Then he kissed him again, and Nick wrapped his arms around him, pulling him as close as he could. Dave nearly lifted him off the floor.

‘This is a really, really bad idea,’ Nick said the next time they came up for air. ‘Like, a really terrible idea.’

Dave licked his lips. ‘We can stop, if you don’t want to. I won’t hold it against you, I promise.’

Nick shook his head. ‘Don’t you dare!’ He captured Dave’s lips again, kissing him deeply, needing to get as close as he could, crawl inside Dave’s skin. He slid his hands up under Dave’s hoodie, under his t-shirt, felt the smooth, warm skin of his back under his fingertips. Dave gasped and broke the kiss, instead bringing his lips to Nick’s neck, lips and tongue and hot breath against the soft spot right beneath Nick’s ear. Nick grabbed his hand. ‘Upstairs,’ he breathed.

Dave hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’

Nick swallowed. ‘No. But I want you.’

They broke apart, and slowly, quietly, walked up the stairs. Nick took his time on purpose, step by single step. He wanted to give them both the chance to change their minds, to properly realise how stupid this was, how dangerous, even. Nick knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, because all he wanted right now was Dave in his bed, skin to skin, lips to lips, inside him. And Dave didn’t back out either.

They didn’t rush it, like they’d done a month ago in Manchester. That night, Nick felt like he must have been out of his mind. Now he felt sane, stone cold sober, and he wanted this, needed it, consequences be damned. They undressed each other slowly, taking their time to look, feel, kiss. Dave scraped his teeth over Nick’s throat. Nick sucked Dave’s earlobe into his mouth. They were silent; heavy breaths, but no vocalisation. Nick’s ears were filled with the sound of their breathing, of the rustle of clothes being shed, of lips and tongues, and hands gliding across skin. He needed to touch Dave, and when he did, Dave’s breath caught in his throat, his head dropping to rest on Nick’s shoulder. He felt so good in Nick’s hand, so familiar and so right.

They lay down on the bed together, took each other apart until nothing else was real, nothing but this precious moment. And then, finally, Dave was inside him again, filling him, and Nick almost wept, so overwhelmed was he. It was completely different from last time. It felt somehow more real now.

Dave leaned down on top of him, kissed his lips, brought his mouth to his ear and whispered, ‘Thinking of anyone else doing this to you, I couldn’t stand it. And I couldn’t not think about it. Not when I knew . . .’ Nick heard him swallow, and he put his arms tightly around him, pulling him as close as he could get him.

‘I know,’ he murmured. ‘I couldn’t stand it either. It was awful, knowing that you were with someone else.’

Dave shook his head against Nick’s shoulder. ‘I was never really with anyone else.’

Nick understood what he meant, even if he hadn’t said it in so many words. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to tell Dave everything. To tell him how desperately he loved him, how much he needed him, needed to be with him. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, so instead he kissed Dave’s shoulder and his neck and his jaw, and Dave brought his head up so he could meet his lips again, swallowing Nick’s cry as he moved inside him and Nick couldn’t hold it back anymore.

How could a single person feel this much at once?

Dave came first, and Nick followed soon after, spilling into Dave’s hand. Then Dave rolled off Nick and enveloped him in his arms. Nick kissed him, deeply and for a long time.

Through the window, the light from a street lamp shone in, casting the room in a dim, yellow glow. Dave caressed Nick’s shoulder. After a few minutes, Nick said, ‘So, where do we go from here?’

Dave sighed next to him. ‘I honestly have no idea,’ he said softly. ‘I mean, once is a mistake. Twice . . . I don’t even know.’

Nick licked his lips, and decided to throw caution to the wind. ‘I want to be with you.’

Dave looked at him, and pressed his lips to his temple. ‘Yeah. I . . . I need to think, but . . . yeah.’ They stayed like that for a while longer, before Dave said, ‘I should text Mum. She’ll worry.’

‘So, you’re staying?’ Nick felt his heart race at the thought.

‘If you want me to.’

Nick nodded. ‘Yes. Please, stay.’