Gaudete (7 page)

“…my last Christmas solo,” Jonah was saying, which roused Callum from his fretting.

“Why’s it your last?”

“Because it’s my last year.”

“What?” Callum sat up so fast he almost hit his head on the ceiling.

Jonah looked confused. “You know that. Nobody stays in the choir after Year Eight.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t exactly sing the treble parts while your voice is breaking, can you? I’m sure I’ve told you this before.”

“You haven’t,” Callum snapped, although he was guiltily aware that he wasn’t as good at listening to Jonah as Jonah was at listening to him. “Anyway, your voice hasn’t broken.”

“It’s starting to,” Jonah said. “I have to stretch to get the high notes now.”

“But that’s not fair.”

“It’s the way it is,” Jonah said, and Callum didn’t get how he could be so calm about it when he himself felt like the world had just started spinning faster and faster under his feet.

“But where are you going to be next Christmas?” he demanded, and that was when he knew his gut instinct was right and this was all wrong, because Jonah’s smile folded in at the corners and his shoulders curled forward.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“What about school? You have to go to school. You could come to mine.”

“I wish I could,” Jonah said, so fervently that Callum’s heart sank even further. “They’re sending me to my dad’s old school. In Scotland.”

“
Scotland!
”

“It’s supposed to be a very good school. Very outdoorsy.”

“But Jonah,” Callum said, because this was ridiculous, “you’re
not
outdoorsy.”

Jonah fiddled with the carpet by his feet. “Well, maybe they do other things too.”

“And the holidays?”

“With Auntie Carrie.”

“So you’ll never be here again?”

Jonah looked up, his face fierce with determination. “I will, whenever I can. I’ll come back. I promise.”

And that was when Callum’s impulses took over and he lunged across the room, wailing, “Don’t you dare go!”

And he kissed Jonah.

It was a rather clumsy kiss, just sort of pressing at Jonah’s face with his mouth, and Jonah’s eyes went wide and round with surprise before suddenly he opened his mouth and kissed back, and it was still clumsy but it wasn’t awful anymore, not even when their noses banged and their teeth clashed, because it was Jonah. And Jonah tasted like orange juice and had the warmest mouth imaginable, and when his tongue brushed Callum’s lip it made him shake so hard he thought he might fly into pieces at any moment.

Then the kiss fell apart and they both drew back, and reality caught up with Callum like a slap in the face.

“I’m not gay!” he blurted out.

“Me neither,” Jonah said hurriedly and they stared at each other in horror for a few seconds.

“I’m not,” Callum said again, just to make sure of it.

“I know you’re not.”

And Callum panicked, because Jonah was still right there, his mouth wet and shiny. Squaring his shoulders, he demanded, as aggressively as he knew how, “Yeah. Why’d you kiss me, then?”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!”

“I kissed you
back!
” Jonah said frantically. “You started it!”

“So you’re saying I am gay?”

“No, I’m not. Callum!” He reached out, and Callum threw himself backward, because if Jonah touched him, he’d lose it and kiss him again and he
would
be gay.

“Don’t you come near me!”

And he couldn’t, because half his class already hated him as it was and he’d be kicked off the football team and all the girls would laugh behind their hands, and he wouldn’t even have Jonah because Jonah was leaving him.

“Callum, stop it!”

“You stop it. Stop touching me and doing stuff to me. I don’t want you. In fact, I want you to leave!”

He’d never really understood before that words were like fists, not until he saw Jonah wince from them. He wanted to hit himself then, because nobody had the right to hurt Jonah, but he couldn’t take them back, because then Jonah would know what he was, and if there was one person in the world he didn’t want hating him, it was Jonah.

Except he’d managed that anyway, because Jonah lifted his chin and said, in his quietest, most careful voice, “It’s my room.”

“What?”

“It’s my room, and I’m not leaving. If you want to go, you know where the door is.”

Callum stared at him, and looked at the door and then back at Jonah, who had gone as white as a sheet, but wasn’t moving, not even to shake with panic, like Callum was.

“Actually,” Jonah said, and his voice was all tight and scrunched up, “you can just fuck off.”

He’d never heard Jonah swear before, and it was that which made him move. He’d made Jonah hate him, and so he couldn’t bear to be here for one more moment.

So Callum ran, and he didn’t go back, not that day, nor the week after, and it wasn’t until years later, when the worst finally happened and everyone did know, that he realized how much he regretted that.

It was eleven years before he saw Jonah again.

J
ONAH
WOKE
up smiling.

It took him a few minutes to remember why he was awash with happiness, and when he did, he just grinned at the ceiling. It was still dark, with only the streetlights coming through the window, but he could already hear the rumble of the city waking up. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself back to Aylminster, to the hush of the cathedral close, and to Callum.

Callum would choose him, he had to believe, and then tonight he’d relent and bring Callum back here. With his housemates away, he had the place to himself. He didn’t know where Callum lived, but he was pretty sure being a professional woodturner didn’t make you enough money to afford a place of your own. So they could come here, and he’d coax Callum into his bed (it probably wouldn’t take much persuasion, but they might both enjoy the game). He’d find out then if Callum had any more piercings (a nipple, perhaps. That seemed like a Callum kind of thing). Perhaps there was a tattoo or two to be revealed. He’d been stubbled by the end of their evening, which meant he might have hair under his clothes, if he hadn’t shaved it off. So many mysteries to discover, so much to explore and kiss and rub himself against.

Jonah sighed slowly and reached down to cup his swelling cock. Tonight, it would be Callum touching him like this. It would be Callum’s mouth at his ear, chattering obscene commentary and promises as Jonah clung to him. It would be Callum under him, growing hard as Jonah grew hard, their breath mixing as they drove each other mad.

He lingered in the fantasy, touching himself until he came in a slow rush that left him melting into his mattress.

Then, of course, he looked at the clock and remembered he actually had to work today, as well as seeing Callum. With a groan, he stumbled out of bed and went through his morning routine at high speed, even managing to change the sheets and style his hair a bit (because he didn’t want to give Callum any excuse to change his mind, and he wanted to look like someone Callum would choose even if they didn’t have years behind them).

It wasn’t until he went out the front door and got a funny look from the cleaners leaving the offices next door that he realized he was singing, and had been since he rolled out of bed.

He sang all the way to work, not just quietly for himself, but in full voice, so it rang off the windows and surrounded him with sound. He sang as he parked and made his way through the narrow streets of the Cathedral Quarter, and only stopped for a moment at the coffee stand under the west gate.

He hadn’t just sung for the pure joy of it in years. He’d been dragooned into the school choir, which hadn’t done anything for his popularity, and then he’d started studying and listening to the music rather than singing it. Today, though, he wanted to be heard.

He got two cups of coffee, because it was never too soon to win over the rest of the family, and headed into the close. He hadn’t quite realized yesterday how much the market had extended to fill every available cranny around the cathedral. It definitely hadn’t been this big when he was younger, and he hoped it would keep growing, because there was always room for something new, even amongst these old walls.

Eccentricity must be tolerated more in this part of town, because he only got a few smiles and laughs as he caroled his way toward Callum’s stall. Everyone was still setting up, vans and cars crammed in between the stalls, and the clack of trays being stacked and the rattle of covers rolling up underlaid his singing.

Leanne was already working at the stall front, and she looked up as he approached, grinning like Callum grinned.

He finished the last chorus of “Gaudete” with a smile, and presented her with one of the cups. “Coffee?”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” she commented and took the cup. “Bribing me already?”

“Without shame.”

“Well, since you’re not here for me, handsome, I’ll take the coffee instead.” She winked at him cheerfully. “Callum! Stop fussing with your hair and come and say good morning to your bloke!”

That brought Callum rushing round the side of the stall. “I am not fussing with my hair!” He shot straight past his sister and came toward Jonah with his hands out.

“Coffee?” Jonah offered.

Callum took it and put it down on the stall beside him before continuing on to wrap his arms around Jonah. He placed a hard kiss on Jonah’s jaw and said fiercely, “I have not changed my mind, and I’m not going to.”

“Right,” Jonah said, and kissed him, because there was nothing else he could do.

Callum pulled back before it got out of hand, his eyes bright with laughter. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jonah said, and he knew he was grinning stupidly and didn’t care.

“I heard you coming. I knew it was you. Nobody else I know sings in Latin for fun.”

“Their loss,” Jonah said, and sang it at him again, “
Gaudete!
Gaudete! Christus est natus ex Maria virgine, gaudete!
”

“What’s that one about, then?”

“Basically, if you hear the whole song, that these are the best of days, and we should all be happy.”

“I like that.”

“So do I,” Jonah said, and kissed his cheek again. “Rejoice, it means. Gaudete!”

“Some of us never did Latin at school.”

“You’re lucky you’ve got me to translate for you, then.”

“Yeah,” Callum said. “I am.”

And, standing under the bright winter sky, with his new love under the shadow of an ancient place, Jonah thought it again.

Gaudete! Gaudete!
Rejoice! Rejoice!

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