Reconciled - 1. Chapter 1

As he crossed the grass and walked towards the tower block, a million thoughts were racing through his mind. The estate looked sombre, the few trees were bare, leaves blew across the road, the place was deserted. It was winter and the wind had an icy touch as it hit his face. Arran hurried into the entrance hall out of the cold.

The lift doors opened with their usual metallic grinding. He pressed the button and the metal box jerked alive starting its ascent. Tom had said his mother was out all afternoon and he was keen for Arran to come over. The lift jolted to a stop and the doors parted. Tom was there to greet him, standing in the doorway, smiling nervously.

Arran recognised the tartan mini-skirt and his heart began pounding in his chest. He felt himself flush and was certain his face was turning red.

"Come in." Tom opened the door wide, stepping back.

Stepping inside, Arran closed the door behind him. It clicked shut.

"Your mum's out?" Arran's voice had a little quiver in it.

Tom looked him in the eyes and Arran stared back at him. There was a tension between them. Tom was the first to break eye contact. He trembled and moved to turn away, but Arran reached out. The touch was electric! It was something he did without thinking. His arms wrapped around Tom, he could feel the other boy's shivers, but it wasn't cold inside the flat. Arran hugged him, embraced him, letting out a sigh. It was then he became aware he had been holding his breath. Their eyes met again as Tom raised his head.

Whatever he had been thinking before he got there, all the scenarios he had played out in his head, this was nothing like any of them.

"I... " Arran hesitated.

Tom hugged him back, holding him very tight. It was as if his life depended on keeping hold, which was how he felt. He might be lost if he let go. Tom had forced himself to invite Arran and was only too aware he was trying to be seductive. He liked Arran, a lot. Perhaps, he thought, this was too much.

"I like you," Arran said, reflecting Tom's own sentiments. He was trying to maintain some sort of control. About to say, I've never done this before, but that sounded too naff! There was no denying he was as nervous as Tom.

"I know. You said."

They still hadn't moved. Stood there holding onto each other in the tiny entrance hall. Finally, Tom took the initiative and pulled Arran into his little bedroom. It was an awkward manoeuvre and ended with Tom falling backwards onto the bed pulling Arran half on top of him. Bracing himself with an arm each side of Tom, he leant in and moved his mouth close to Tom's, their lips brushed together as delicately as a feather falling to the ground. Arran felt that touch permeate his entire body and his body responded. Tom was embarrassed as he became instantly hard. He was sure Arran would notice, he certainly would if he got up. Arran still had his big puffy winter jacket on and Tom couldn't tell if he was feeling the same, but he'd kissed him. He had kissed him, hadn't he? Tom was so overwhelmed he wasn't even certain.

Arran pushed himself up off the bed and looked down at Tom. A huge grin broke across his face.

"That little skirt is so sexy, but you know it doesn't hide anything."

Arran was standing there staring at Tom, his mouth half open. There was one very noticeable reaction and Arran's eyes were fixed there. Tom blushed bright red.

"You don't have anything on underneath?" Arran couldn't move his eyes, he was fascinated.

Fascinated and excited. His heart beating fast, his mouth dry. He pulled off his thick jacket, and now Tom who was sitting up on the bed propped up on his elbows, was treated to a view of the obvious bulge in Arran's jeans. It was his turn to smile broadly as a wave of relief washed over him.

Whilst Arran hung his jacket over the hook on the bedroom door, Tom climbed off the bed and walked over to the window. He stared out at the few cars parked along the road, and watched the leaves swirling around in the wind. He breathed in and out deeply in a vain attempt to take command of his body. Arran crept up behind him and brushed his side's with both hands.

Across the grass, looking about the size of an ant were a group of three guys walking and joking around. The one in front looked quite animated. He couldn't make out who they were, but he was nevertheless hit by a building sense of fear. A little irrational, but he thought the bigger of the three was Achim.

"What you staring at?" Arran asked, as his palms slid over the mini-skirt.

Tom turned his head to look back at Arran over his shoulder.

"Nothing," he replied.

Arran wasn't convinced, but had his mind somewhere else. "Tell me something," he said.

"What?"

"How come you dressed like that?"

Tom turned around, his obvious previous excited state having calmed a little. He looked up at Arran.

"Really!" He said, raising his eyebrows, which made Arran smile. His hands were now resting on Tom's thighs. "Before," Tom grinned, "when you said, 'I... like you,' it wasn't what you were gonna say, was it?"

Arran's hands glided beneath the mini-skirt and came to rest cupping Tom's buttocks. "No." Arran breathed, relaxing his hold. "I wanted to tell you I've never done this before."

Tom wrapped his arms around Arran and hugged him.

"Me neither," he confessed.

For a moment they were both once again statues, looking each other in the eye, hugging and touching. Arran moved his head closer. A brief hesitation and then their lips touched. This time Tom opened his mouth and they kissed long and deep. They had began their first voyage of exploration.

"Tom, I want to ask you something." Arran had shuffled up on the bed to rest his back against the wall.

"What is it?"

"I... I just... I don't know how this will work out."

Tom turned and looked at him sideways. "How what will work out?"

"Tom, you always do that."

"Do what?"

Tom climbed over Arran and stood up looking at him.

"You never answer my questions. You were like that when I asked if you were gay."

"Maybe I didn't know what to tell you. Have you thought about that?"

"Yeah, I understand, but now?"

"Now what?"

Arran gave up. The conversation was going nowhere, he fell silent, watching Tom move around the small bedroom. He didn't want to say anymore, because he didn't want to ruin the magic, but he had so many conflicting thoughts turning over in his head.

"You know I'm sure I saw that guy out there earlier," Tom said, moving over to look out the window.

"What guy?"

"Achim, the guy the police nicked outside the cafe."

"Achim?" Arran wondered why they were talking about him when what he wanted answers to was their relationship. If they had a relationship? He wasn't sure sleeping with someone you liked counted as a relationship, maybe the start of one?

"When does your mum get back?" Arran swung his legs off the bed and started to pick up his clothes and get dressed.

Tom turned around and watched him. "Not for a while," he smiled, "you could stay like that."

Arran looked at him as he pulled his jeans on. "I'm too scared your mum might come back early or something. I mean, does she know about you?"

"Arran, can you shut up. You make it sound like a dirty secret."

"Well, does she?"

Tom turned back to look out the window. A silence reigned in the room.

"Tom," Arran held out his arm.

Tom moved to take his hand and sit down on the bed beside him. Arran brushed a hand through his hair.

"I think you should get dressed," he said, smiling at Tom.

They went together into the living room.

"You hungry?" Tom asked.

Arran moved closer and pulled Tom into a hug. "Only for you."

They both burst out laughing. As if the scales had tipped, the weight shifted, and the atmosphere became lighter and happy again. This was some kind of delicate balancing act between revelation, trust, unanswered questions, and self-discovery. A real rollercoaster, with twists and turns, some very dramatic, and always a chance to derail. What Arran didn't want, was to crash this new found friendship, love affair, relationship, whatever it was. There was magic between them and he needed it to work.

Tom was hung up on trust. He knew what betrayal was, he knew how easily people could use him. He knew it was simpler to push someone away than let them in. But that's not what he had done. He hadn't pushed Arran away, he had invited him in. Now he needed to deal with that. With that, with himself, and with all of whatever Arran was going through.

For now he grabbed some bread, took four slices, buttered them, added cheese slices and switched on the grill.

"Cheese on toast, okay?"

Arran smiled. He was getting used to Tom, getting comfortable with how he was. How things were. A balancing act. From psycho-analysis and an unknown universe to cheese on toast in a tower block on a council estate. Weird. He definitely couldn't work it out, and for now he stopped trying.

"The police let him go. Probably got bail," Tom said.

"Ah!" Arran blew on the toast.

"It's hot, idiot," Tom told him, and pushed the bottle of juice across the table.

"Who are we talking about? That same guy again?" Arran gulped a mouthful of juice from the bottle., the cold liquid momentarily offering relief, but the tip of his tongue was stinging from the hot cheese.

"Yeah, Achim. He's been on my back since I got here."

"Why? You're not involved with him, are you?"

Tom didn't reply immediately. Instead he concentrated on eating.

"It's complicated," he said, finally.

"I know about complicated." Arran looked at him. "My dad and Vicky is complicated," he paused. "We're... complicated." He drew out the word. "You and me."

"That's life," Tom replied, and smiled again.

Arran left before Tom's mum got back.

He told him they could meet up. "At my place, tomorrow, okay?"

Tom nodded as he opened the front door. He stood watching until the lift doors slid apart and Arran disappeared inside with a final wave and a little smile.