The Way You Are (7 page)

Leon was silent as he put the popcorn bag into the microwave and hit the timer to start it, and the two men watched it go around and around behind the shielded glass, slowly expanding as the corn kernels inside swelled and popped. “Sorry,” Leon said eventually. “I can’t actually think up anything supportive to say here.”

“That’s okay,” Rook said, limping over to the cupboards and opening them one by one. “Any idea where the bowls would be kept?”

“Nope,” Leon said with a grin. “I don’t know if you even have bowls.”

“I do!” Rook said triumphantly, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a metal mixing bowl. “This’ll do, right?”

“Sure,” Leon said, just as the microwave beeped to indicate that it was done. “Although we could be lazy bums and eat it straight from the bag.”

In the end they put the bag in the bowl and brought it out to the lounge room, where they spent five minutes hunting for the correct remotes for the TV and DVD player, which they eventually found squashed between the couch cushions. During the search, they also uncovered three condoms—one used—and an extra-large pump-action bottle of lube, a Wonder Woman comic book, a wooden spoon, and half a brick with googly eyes stuck to it, which was later identified as housemate Paul’s pet rock.

As the strains of Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” filtered through the tinny sound system, Rook popped a fluffy white kernel into his mouth and chewed speculatively. “If I eat too much of that, I’m going to need a drink or three.”

“That’s usually the case,” Leon agreed. “Where are your glasses?”

Rook closed his eyes. “Haven’t the foggiest.”

“Beer, then? I thought I saw a few in the fridge.”

“Do you think they’re mine?”

“Does it matter if they’re not? Claim amnesia and buy a six-pack afterward.”

Rook laughed. “Okay, beer it is. I just hope I like it.”

“You have a bottle opener for a key ring. I think you’ll be fine.”

“How do you know I don’t like Bacardi Breezers or something light and fruity?” Rook protested as Leon went back to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of Tooheys.

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re straight?” Leon said as he wandered back into the lounge.

“That is heteronormative stereotyping, that is,” Rook said reprovingly as he took out his key chain and popped the caps off the beers.

“Sorry,” Leon said, taking a swig of the bitter liquid.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rook said, grinning to take the sting out of his words before raising his own bottle to his lips. “Oh God, I needed that.”

“So you do like beer?”

“Yes, but I might not have,” Rook said archly.

“Got any plans for tomorrow?” Leon asked as they watched Hugh Laurie bicker with Lisa Edelstein over paperwork.

“Going to court,” Rook said. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Okay. Are you going to need help tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Rook said, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Are you sure? Your cast—”

“I’ll be fine, Leon,” Rook said, reaching out and catching Leon in a sideways hug. “Thank you for the offer though, and if I need a hand, I’ll give you a call.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

W
HEN
Leon pulled up into his driveway, the sun had set and his house was cast in deep shadows from the street light on the corner. As he headed up to the door, a shadow on his front porch moved.

“Warrick!”

“Hi, Leon.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, you won’t answer my calls, so….” Warrick shrugged and let the sentence trail off into the expectant silence.

“I thought that was a hint in and of itself,” Leon said.

“Yeah, well, I happen to think you’re worth the effort.”

“Warrick, look. I like you, but I’m not here for your benefit,” Leon said, folding his arms across his chest.

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to be at your beck and call or stop being friends with someone just because you say so.”

“I know.”

“And if I want to flirt with someone else, then I’ll damn well do that too.”

“I know,” Warrick said again. “Wait—what? Are you saying you want a… an open relationship?”

Leon shrugged. “I don’t know. I might. What if I did?”

Warrick’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he answered. “I would hope that you’d discuss it with me if that’s what you wanted—assuming that I was involved.”

“Right,” Leon said. “Then why can’t you do the same for me?”

“Because I don’t want an open relationship,” Warrick said, stepping in closer. “I just want you.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I know. I just—I’m scared, Leon,” Warrick said, moving close enough that Leon could feel the heat from his body. “I’m scared that if I kiss you, I won’t stop; if someone sees, I won’t care, and that I could lose my job; or if someone sees and follows you and—I don’t want it to be you lying in a hospital bed when I come into work.”

“Why is it me that they’re following in this scenario and not you?” Leon asked, although even as he said it, he knew how foolish that sounded.

“I’m always with
me
, and I can take care of myself.” Warrick said with a shrug. “The moment you leave my sight, I don’t know where you are, and then I worry. I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it.”

“That’s…,” Leon sighed. “You know, that’s kinda sweet.”

A small smile ghosted across Warrick’s lips. “Forgive me?”

Leon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Later he could never say who had moved first, but Warrick’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him against the firm chest he only now could admit he had missed. Then Warrick lifted Leon’s chin and gently pushed their lips together, and all the loss and hurt melted into the tender warmth of their kiss.

“You coming in?” Leon asked softly when they finally broke for air.

Warrick leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “If it’s not too inconvenient.”

Leon smiled and went in for another kiss. “Mr. Kwok, it is not an inconvenience at all.”

Their lovemaking that night was slow and gentle, each man intent on reconnecting rather than achieving release. By the time Leon felt Warrick shudder inside him, triggering his own orgasm, the rosellas were already starting the morning chorus in the trees outside Leon’s window. Pausing for only the briefest of cleanups, the lovers crawled back into Leon’s bed, not bothering to draw the blankets over themselves in the summer heat. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they slept clear through to the afternoon, roused only briefly by Warrick’s phone alarm, prompting him to call in sick.

“Won’t you get into trouble for that?” Leon asked sleepily.

“Don’t care,” Warrick mumbled, curling back around his lover’s form. “Not going in.”

When their empty stomachs finally roused them from slumber, Warrick complained bitterly about the state of Leon’s fridge, and they settled for ordering pizza, which arrived just before Krissy, who helped herself to a slice after grilling them about their reconnection.

“You do not want details,” Leon said, helping himself to a slice of the meat-lover’s pizza.

“Well, not all the details,” Warrick said, licking his fingers clean of sauce. “Let’s just say I gave Leon puppy-dog eyes until he agreed to give me another chance.”

“Puppy-dog eyes? Don’t you mean you just wrapped your arms around me and wouldn’t let go until I said ‘uncle’?”

“That was after,” Warrick said, looking away with a sly grin. “And I didn’t make you say ‘uncle’.”

“Okay boys, enough with the sharing,” Krissy said, helping herself to the last piece of Margherita pizza. “New topic, and not the fact that you’ve been holding hands since I got here.”

“How’s the internship going?” Warrick asked. “Leon says you’re hardly ever around these days.”

“I like it,” Krissy said. “The cases are interesting, if sometimes mired in paperwork. And I don’t get to work on the juicy one either.”

“Juicy?”

“Rook’s case. It’s odd it’s gone to trial so quickly, but—”

“Speak of the devil,” Leon said, as his phone trilled.

“You should really change that ringtone,” Krissy said. “It’s so boring.”

“Shut up,” Leon said as he grabbed for his phone, bringing it up to his ear. “Hey, Rook, how’d it go?”

“It didn’t,” Rook said, and Leon could hear him moving around on one crutch before sitting down on something soft. “I just found out they never got a DNA test from the suspects. Apparently the judge said the CCTV footage was ‘too grainy’ to warrant one, especially since I don’t remember being assaulted.”

“Seriously? That blows.”

“I know. I recognized one of them from the paper, though. Does the name Billy Fitzgerald ring any bells?”

“The mayor’s son?”

“The very same. Rising local rugby star interviewed last week in the
Herald
,” Rook said gloomily. “His lawyers are heaping obstacle after obstacle in our way, and I don’t know how much longer the state will fight on.”

“Huh,” Leon said. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Not your fault,” Rook said. “I just…. Do you know how long it took to get into a suit this morning?”

“You could have called for help.”

“Paul helped,” Rook said. “It’s just—I want things to go back to normal, you know?”

“Yeah,” Leon said, giving Warrick’s hand a squeeze.

“I just don’t remember what normal is. Look, I’m tired. I’m going to hit the sack. Thanks for chatting, man. And I’m sorry if I’m unloading on you.”

“It’s cool,” Leon said. “Fingers crossed for day two, right?”

“Yeah. Night, Leon.”

“Night, Rook.”

“Well that didn’t sound good,” Krissy said as Leon put down his phone.

“They never got DNA from the defendants,” Leon said, snuggling into Warrick’s embrace. “Apparently the judge ruled the CCTV footage wasn’t enough—too grainy. Something about Rook not remembering enough to justify it.”

“Rook doesn’t remember anything,” Warrick objected.

“What, so you like him now?” Leon asked.

“He’s your friend, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I don’t have any reason to be jealous, do I?”

“No.”

“Then I will keep my jealous impulses firmly in check,” Warrick said, kissing the side of Leon’s neck.

“You two are sickening,” Krissy said, reaching for the garlic bread. “I can’t believe—wait, CCTV footage was too grainy?”

“According to Rook,” Leon said.

“That’s ridiculous. He was assaulted outside a Cash Converters. They have good security cameras there. I’ve seen their footage on other cases. That stolen jewelry from the McMansion six months ago turned up pawned in—never mind, confidentiality and all that. That can’t be the real reason.”

Leon stared down at his and Warrick’s hands, interlacing their fingers together. “Rook said one of the defendants was Billy Fitzgerald.”

“William Fitzgerald, Jr.?” Warrick asked. “The mayor’s kid?”

“Kid? He’s not that much younger than we are,” Leon said.

“Doesn’t act it.”

Krissy twisted the foil of the remaining garlic bread, closing it back up. “I think I just lost my appetite,” she said. “It explains why everything on that case has moved so quickly—and why the judge refused to sign a warrant for Billy’s DNA.”

“You realize you’re accusing a judge of corruption,” Warrick said.

“Oh, right. Because that’s never happened before.”

Warrick sighed. “And Rook can’t even remember who he is, let alone what happened to him.”

“You know,” Leon said thoughtfully. “We might be able to help with that.”

S
ATURDAY
afternoon found Leon pulling up to Rook’s flat and rapping on the door. Then he waited for several minutes and knocked again. “Come on, Rook, I know you’re in there.”

After a few more minutes, he heard the slow sound of a man on crutches coming toward the door. “Leon?”

“No, it’s Wonder Woman.”

When the door opened slightly and Rook peeked out, he was scruffy, unshaven, and Leon could see he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Wonder Woman has bigger tits than you do,” Rook said. “And she wears less clothing. Does everything you wear have a hood?”

“Not everything. Just most of it,” Leon said. “I like hoods. They make you look a little scarier at night, and if it’s cold, you can pull it around your neck a bit.”

“They make you look more scary at night?”

“Hey, I’m a little guy! I’ll take what I can get. You going to invite me in or what?”

“Sure, just—sure,” Rook said, opening the door further to allow Leon in—and showing Leon that all he was wearing was a pair of Aquaman boxers.

“No offense, but you look like shit,” Leon said as he stepped into the cool darkness of the hallway.

“Yeah,” Rook said, leaning on his crutch as he headed for the living room. “I was planning on getting drunk, but I’m out of beer as of last night and didn’t feel up to a trip to the bottle-o
{17}
.”

“Trial isn’t going well?”

Rook shook his head. “The thing that gets me are the looks Billy and his two friends keep shooting my way. It’s like they’re mocking me because they did it, and they know they’re going to get away with it. And the worst thing is I can’t remember it! And people keep saying that could be a good thing, but if I knew, I’d still be dealing with trauma, but I might get some closure. It’s like I’m being cheated out of something I need, but I can’t remember why I want or need it.”

“Rook—”

“Can we get beer?”

Leon smiled. “Sure, we can get a beer.”

“Thank you.”

“But not here,” Leon said. “We’re going out.”

“What?”

“The Queer Collective is having a Christmas dinner thing—we scored you a ticket.”

“Thanks, but I’ve accepted the fact that I’m straight, Leon,” Rook said, sitting down on his red couch. “I know the Queer Collective is meant to be a queer safe space. You know, away from the rest of straight society.”

“They opened it up this year,” Leon said, pushing his fringe back from his eyes. “And we’d all really like you to be there.”

“Oh,” Rook said. “Well, I’m honored, but I’m not really dressed for the occasion.”