Jason got carefully out of bed, wincing at the creak of the mattress. He grabbed his trousers from the floor and tiptoed to the bathroom. Why am I being so quiet, he asked himself, feeling foolish? It’s my house!
He went downstairs to put the kettle on. No point making his guest a cup – he was dead to the world. Jason waited for the water to boil, reliving moments from the night before.
Danny had shown up out of the blue. Jason had already gone to bed. “Cold out. Can I stay here?” was Danny’s greeting as he took off his coat. Jason was more than a little stunned.
“How long has it been?” Danny flopped on the sofa.
“If you mean since we saw each other – too long. Not since – you know – the accident.”
Danny shrugged. “Got any beer?”
“I can do wine,” Jason offered. “If I’d known you were coming…”
“Wine is fine,” Danny decided. Jason went to the kitchen.
When he came back with a nice pinot noir and a couple of glasses, Danny wasn’t there. His shoes were on the floor. And so were his jeans.
Jason smirked. He took the bottle and the glasses up to the bedroom.
“Remember this?” Danny lifted the duvet.
“How could I forget?” laughed Jason.
Afterwards, there had been sleep – but not much.
The kettle boiled. Jason made instant coffee for one. He had so much to do that morning; he hadn’t planned on an overnight visitor.
He filled the washing machine and washed plates from the day before, mindful not to make too much noise.
Upstairs: silence. Jason crept up to the landing and peered around the bedroom door. There was the man-sized lump under the duvet. Jason snuck toward it.
Perhaps I should get back in… perhaps we could have a rematch…
Gingerly, he peeled back the duvet. It collapsed. Jason pulled it away completely – the bed was empty.
Damn! Damn, damn, damn!
He reached for the little black book on his bedside table. He would need a stronger incantation if his boyfriend was to come back for good. After all, Jason wasn’t going to let a silly thing like a fatal car crash come between him and the love of his life.