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Dean opened the doors into the drawing room of the Archers Holland Park home. A vast space with high ceilings, sprawling leather sofas, and furniture so large it was almost a caricature of what a conventional living room should look like. Everything was large for large’s sake. A room reserved for Audrey and Mark to receive guests when they were in the city and the obligatory Christmas morning family gathering if they opted to host in London. Happy and busy memories etched into the walls, now the scene of a sombre summit between two brothers following the most harrowing of ordeals. They were back together.

Lee was sitting on the farthest dark brown studded sofa in the bay window. He looked nervous. Uneasy. His head darted about until he could sense Dean in the room.

Dean considered Lee’s demeanour for a moment. How he’d never seen him like this. Always stoic and collected. All sense of pride melted as his eyes settled on his brother. The man responsible for his husband now safe in a hospital rather than, and his mind hit a wall. He refused to think of the alternative. He fought the emotion threatening to punch through his eyes and ran to his brother. There was absolutely no place here in this moment, this chance they’d been given, to prolong a fight. It was futile given the events of that morning and the past week. The past months.

Lee rose, arms outstretched. He didn’t know if Dean would embrace him or still feel aggrieved by his past actions. Thank him but still be unable to forgive him. He made peace and understood as Dean approached.

His uncertainty was soon dispersed.

Dean crashed into him. Arms wrapped around him. Palms slapping his back. Lee leaned in. His brother needed his support. Physically and emotionally that day, and he would hope he could give them in equal measure in the days and months and years that stretched out before them. He was a big brother again. At last. Dean shuddered; Lee felt the tears splash against his neck. Dean roared. “You saved him! You saved his fucking life!” Dean swayed with his older brother while the tears and profound sense of relief moved through them both like a current. A feeling so powerful, yet until that morning, Dean wasn’t even able to allow himself to think it was possible to experience.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” Lee whispered. His hand slid up to the back of Dean’s head. The movement startled Dean. He’d not felt this sort of embrace from his brother before. Henry, yes. His mother, of course. Even his father over the years. It wasn’t just what he’d been through that morning; there was a shift in the time they’d not spoken. Dean could feel it. Tectonic plates finally shifting into places they should have always been. Painful, stubborn, and angry movements, now settling. He squeezed a little tighter at the unexpected but always wanted touch.

Dean delicately pulled away at Lee’s words and grabbed his shoulders. His face sobered. “After what you just did, you’re apologising? What the hell is wrong with you? Lee, it’s forgotten. I speak for Jamie as much as myself; I’m sure of it.” They sat. Still embracing. Laboured breaths and sniffs.

“I did what anyone would have if they had the hunch I did.” Lee offered. The old Lee was still in there, diminishing his part in anything. Happy to be sitting in the shadows. His eyes betrayed him. Again.

“Christ, are you crying too? Lee. Look at me. There’s more to all this. Tell me.” Dean could read his brother instantly. The perfect granite surface was beginning to crumble before him. Dean had to know. He wanted to help in any small way that he could. Even then.

“Yes, I know. Now a handful of times in forty-seven years. Not good.” He paused and wrung his hands. “Dean, there’s so much to tell you. So much. I have a cheek asking, but I think I’m going to need Jamie’s and yours help to navigate this. Now that I’m finally realising who I am.”

Dean went to wrap his arms around him again, but his stomach screamed. “Ah, shit. One sec.” Dean lay back and gritted his teeth.

“Are you alright? Can I do anything?” Lee laid a hand gently on Dean’s stomach.

“Since when were you so attentive to others?” Dean half winced, half chuckled. “I’ll live. Jamie broke in last night. Is that even technically correct since it’s his home, too? Anyway. He dropped by, then, for want of a better phrase, and we got into a kind of fight. I went after him, but these two guys jumped me.” The realisation of what Jamie had said was like another punch. He swallowed quickly and leaned forward. “He threw his rings at me and told me it was over. Fuck. Lee, what if when he wakes he still thinks the same?” He folded, and tears fell again. He sounded exhausted and pained.

Uncharacteristically, at least from what people had come to expect of him, Lee moved closer and held his little brother. He had to find the right words. The Lee of the past would have used this as an opportunity to weaken Jamie and Dean. This new, honest, hope-to-be-in-a-bona-fide-relationship-very-soon Lee saw this as a marriage in jeopardy that he had to save. “From what I’ve gathered, he was being used in an awful drug trafficking operation, a pawn. He wouldn’t have willingly gone into that. He’s a smart kid. His attitude alone would have made anyone run a mile unless he was under the influence of something.” He chuckled delicately. “From what was said in conversations I overheard, he’d been laced with some potent LSD strain, concocted by that Hollingsworth character. I can pretty confidently say that what Jamie said yesterday was not him. Not remotely. You have to believe me. If not. At least believe in him.”

Dean’s face didn’t react to Lee’s words. From the past week and especially that morning, nothing now shocked or surprised him. “Why are people so cruel?” He pondered. “He wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone. Jesus, he runs a homeless charity for fuck’s sake. In between everything else. He’s so pure. He doesn’t understand why people are so awful. It’s why he’s so hurt all the time.” Dean’s hands went to fists. It was always true. Everyone knew it. Harm Trouble  and Dean didn’t need to think; the city would be flattened to make him happy and safe again.

“I can quite believe that. I was one of those who hurt him.” Lee sighed.

“Forget that. It’s in the past. It was misplaced big brother protectiveness. I get that. You just need to trust me. AND, most importantly. Trust HIM.” Dean’s fists clenched again, this time in reflex to his own words. If only Lee would finally do as he begged.

“I do. I always have. I will say sorry once again, and I will to him. What happened this morning doesn’t excuse my past behaviour.” Lee grabbed his fist.

Dean looked up at him. “Yes, what did happen this morning? How the hell did you end up being involved? And I want to know everything. I have to. I hate myself a little for even saying this, but I should have been the one to get him out of whatever shit he was stuck in.” Dean punched his thigh and gasped.

Lee grabbed him again. “You cannot feel guilt or any sense of failure over the events of the past week. You weren’t to know. I’ll explain.” Lee said softly. Trying to reason with a brother physically wrestling with his emotions and a body reeling in pain.

Lee leaned back and sighed. He looked over at the bar. “Before I get into this, can I interest you in a whisky? I think we’ve earned it.” He got up, tapping Dean on the knee, and poured. He came back. Gulped half and gave out a sigh again.

“I’m never not speaking to you for a long time again. You’ve like completely changed.” Dean chuckled. Still rubbing his stomach. He held his gaze. “Take this as a compliment, but maybe for the better?”

“You have no idea, and thanks, I think.” He grinned back and began.

Lee spoke of his first encounter with Drew at the wedding. He spoke of their clandestine relationship that followed. He spoke of Drew’s need for Lee to tell him he loved him when he had done so, so vulnerably, only to be shut down. He spoke of his curiosity leading him to Khonsu. He spoke of encountering Drew again and knowing he was not happy but not knowing how unhappy or how in danger he really was. He spoke of Maria. He spoke of his need to act when he learnt of his brother-in-law’s disappearance despite their long silence. He spoke of his making the connection between Gordon Hewitt and the operations within Khonsu along with Hollingsworth. He spoke of Harry. Reasoning that at the very least Harry would understand his indiscretion given the circumstances.

Dean didn’t interject once. He knew these were words Lee had been bottling for years. He could see him deflate in relief at the release of every single one he spoke. Lee’s immaculately, curated exterior began to break. His hair began to fall over his forehead. His sleeves were shoved further and further up his forearms. Solid grips around his brother to support him turned to nervous taps and rubs on his own legs. Not knowing what to do with this new honesty he was willingly pushing out into the world. He paused. “Are you going to say anything? Do you hate me? Are you ashamed of me?”

Dean finally spoke. The entire time a hand was on his brother’s shoulder. Lee carried his brothers stresses, struggles, grief, unhappiness, and elation on his back. Now, Dean knew it was time to take his emotional weight and heave it onto his own. “I will talk when you’re ready for me to.”

Lee nodded, staring at the floor. Dean spoke softly. “I don’t hate you. I’m not ashamed of you. I love you. I’ve always admired your steadfast approach to life; it’s not for everyone, but there is something to respect in how you do things.” Dean paused. This next part was going to be hard for him to hear. “But, I think you’re ashamed of yourself. You have real and true feelings for a man. You’ve got to forget about appearances. Who fucking cares? I don’t, and look at me? I’m in what’s arguably a masculine world, and no one actually gives a shit. We’re trained by society to fear being us. But there is nothing to fear if you surround yourself with the best people. You have us. Let us be there for you. You’ve always modelled yourself on being this extreme version of masculinity that doesn’t leave room for honesty in who you love or who you really are. And going back to what you said earlier? Yes, Jamie and I will fully support you. For the record. What you did to Drew was shitty.” He playfully punched his shoulder.

He continued. “But, if my marriage and relationship before that have taught me anything, you can and will drag each other through the mud but still be there to clean each other off because, in the end, there is no one else you want to be that vulnerable in front of. That person sees you at your ugliest, lowest form and still fucking wants to love you. Family and friends are blessings, but finding the one is terrifyingly beautiful. They’re your oxygen. You want to suffocate almost to be able to miss them for just a moment to experience it again. In huge gasps and gulps. That’s what finding the one should be. Every day. It’s exhausting, but you’ll gladly wake each day to do it over again. The stakes are high in this game, though. Remember that. You have to trust that the other person feels the same. I hope Jamie still feels that for me. Drew told you, and you broke that for him. You have to tell him again. Properly. Or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

Lee looked up at his brother. His little brother. He’d never heard such wisdom in all these years. The truth was he didn’t consider love, regret, or emotions of any kind as anything more than complications and obstacles. It meant he wound up alone. Full of love and regret and nowhere for either to go. The irony made him laugh. “Wow. I really have been a prick.”

Dean leaned back and swigged his whisky. “You said it. I’m not going to disagree, but you did save my husband’s life, so I wouldn’t use the term myself.”

“Shut up. I did what I had to do given the facts that I had.” Lee snapped playfully.

“Well, apply that logic to your life too. You’re the barrister. Winning cases left, right, and centre, but your life, the most important case of all, you’re losing, contrary to the evidence.” Dean flung his hands up. He felt he was finally getting through.

“Tough words, but I need to hear them. I have to see Drew. I have to do this.” The nervous hands were gone. The sureness of what he had to do to win Drew back inflated his arms. Fists. Ready to fight.

They finished their drinks and took another. Audrey and Mark crept in, relieved at the scene. Two brothers smiling. Laughing. Grabbing at each other as they had as boys.

The following day, Lee would contact Terry Bates to put forward the case to get access to Drew. At the discretion of the medical staff, this would be granted. Drew’s tragic history was ultimately to be to Lee’s advantage. No family. No significant other person. No one. Lee was the only person worried about him. It was so utterly sad. He couldn’t help but place blame at his own door. If he hadn’t denied Drew what he deserved all those years ago, he wouldn’t have set in motion the events that followed. He held that realisation in a new place he had come to store his feelings. No longer shoving them to the back of his head like memories he’d rather forget. But now in his heart. The muscle now pushing him to do the right thing. Pumping love, endless possibilities, and happiness around him.

Later, after his reunion with Lee, Dean turned his attentions to his and Jamie’s friends. His phone hadn’t stopped buzzing in his pocket since he woke. He escaped to the garden to check through his endless missed calls and messages. As he did, he had another through from Harry. He answered. He could feel the relief of telling loved ones that Jamie was safe rising through him. He went to speak, but Harry launched straight in. “Dean! Dean! Thank God! I think I know where Jamie is! We can act today, but we need to mo…”

“H.”

“Move fast. I think he’s in danger…”

“H.”

“I’m sorry. There’s more I need to tell you. A club. Uh. Shit. I…”

“Harry Jones, will you shut the fuck up for a minute!” Dean snapped and had to laugh. Then he gasped again as his stomach reminded him of the beating he’d taken. Laughing too hard made the cut on his cheek scream again, too.

“What? Fuck, tell me. I know he’s your husband, but he’s one of my closest friends. We fell out again, I know that, but it’s only because I love him too. We just clash sometimes. I’m sorry. I…”

“Harry! He’s alive! He’s safe! I’m a fucking mess. He’s a mess. There’s so much to go through. I know about the club. You. Lee was even the one who got him out. Look, I really can’t talk right now. Police are involved; crazy shit went down at work with me, and it’s all connected. Will you update all our friends, please? I mean Gabby, Trix, Lars, Jerry, and Sally? Tell them I’ll be in touch when I can. Who else and Jamie’s talent manager, Dale? I haven’t got time nor energy for anything but him right now. I’ll drop you updates when I have them, but the main thing is he’s safe and going to make it. I’ll call you in a few days. I can’t see him right now due to the investigation. I love you. He loves you. Don’t worry. Please do this for me. I gotta go.” It was the one time Dean hung up on Harry that wasn’t a fight, but they’d known each other for twenty or so years by now. He knew Harry would take him at his word and carry out his wishes.

Harry smiled ecstatically at his phone and pressed it against his forehead in relief. “He’s alive! He’s alive! Thank fucking god!” Harry grabbed Lars in a bear hug, pulling him off the floor.

Lars burst into tears. Harry dropped him to the sofa and held him. “I thought I’d lost him! I can’t lose him. He’s my brother. He means everything to me. Well, apart from you, of course. And Dean. Those two. The world doesn’t make sense without them anymore. You too, of course. Again. Sorry. Navigating a new relationship when this is happening is extremely confusing.” Lars pushed his head into Harry’s neck. “We’ll have to wait it out, but we have to see him as soon as he’s up to it.”

“I get it. I’m going through the same feelings as you, so don’t worry. You’re right, maybe we shouldn’t say anything just yet. Jamie will probably tease us to hell and back, and Dean would just stress over us hurting each other. They don’t need that distraction right now.” They chuckled and held their heads together. Palms on cheeks.

Without thinking, Lars grabbed his phone and fired off a text.

LARS: I’m so happy our boy is safe. I love you both. Please take care of yourself and give yourself a hug from me. X

Dean clocked the message and frowned. He’d only told Harry moments ago. Why would Lars be the first person he called? And that quickly? His mind was too busy to pay it any more thought. He shoved his phone away and went back to his family as Ali, Martha, and David arrived. All tears, relief, and gasps.

“Thank goodness this is over. You know you’re not to blame in all of this, Dean, dear boy. I will not be happy if I hear you’ve been hard on yourself. My little boy is out of harm’s way, and that’s all that matters.” Martha embraced him. Ali held him. They had a tempestuous relationship, but both Ali and Jamie would go to the ends of the earth for each other when the need arose. Her steely disposition melted. Tears and delicate smiles of relief in its place.

“I’m so happy he’s okay,” she shuddered. Dean wrapped her up in his arms.

“Hey. Happy tears are good. He's going to be ok. I'll give him all our love when I can. It’s ok.” Dean stroked her hair. Having Ali there was healing in itself. The closest he'd been to Jamie in days. There was no one else on earth as close to him. He smiled; they would hate it, but he thought they were so alike. “Thank you for coming to see me. I love you all.”

David seemed a wrestling mix of shock and relief, too stunned to speak, but he had to reassure Dean he had his full support.

“You know, I’m not even worried from here on in because I know you’ll get him on the path to recovery. You’re a good man, Dean. Take care of our boy.” They’d been married almost six years, but praise of any kind from David sent him hurtling back to that first evening they met. Impressions as fragile as eggshells. Always making sure he handled them with care.

“You can count on me.” Dean grabbed David’s shoulder as David’s eyes filled with tears. A brilliant man reduced to raw emotions running wild over his face.

July 2nd, 2021

Jamie woke with a fright. He gasped. As if underwater for almost too long. He grabbed his chest. His stomach and head throbbed. He felt nauseous and fuzzy. An analogue TV attempting to find a channel. White noise in his ears. He squinted his eyes at a dimly lit white room. There was a distant din of machines and a drip filtering something into him. He didn’t move too quickly for fear of causing more pain. He looked at his wrist. An NHS strap affixed. He calmed for a moment, but he still felt alone and scared. He tried to speak, but only a screech escaped. “He. Hell. Hello?”

The door into the room opened softly, and a middle-aged woman in a white coat appeared with a warm smile. A short bob of grey hair framed her powdery face. She walked over to him slowly; he still recoiled slightly, using his duvet as a desperate shield. “Hello, Jamie.”

“Hell. Hello. I don’t know what’s going on. Where am I? Is my husband here? His name is Dean. Is he ok?” Jamie quickly unravelled. He looked at his left hand. “Have I been attacked?! My rings?! My beautiful rings are gone! I haven’t taken them off since my wedding day! Oh my go….” Jamie slammed his head back against the pillow and wailed. He dug his fists into his eyes, and the pain from the beating he didn’t know he’d taken roared through his face. “Jesus! What the hell has happened to me?!” Jamie writhed.

“Jamie! Jamie! Calm now. You’re safe. I’ll tell you what I know. I’m Doctor Stevens. It’s July second, twenty twenty-one. It’s four AM. You’ve been abducted, drugged, and assaulted. The police have arrested those involved, as far as I am aware. Your husband, Dean, is at a safe address. I know that’s a lot to take in, but that’s what I know so far.” Doctor Stevens’ voice was kind. He needed it.

Jamie’s cries began to fade. His fists were still at his eyes. “This can’t be real. I can’t believe this. I have to see my husband. Why would anyone want to do this to me?”

His hand fell, and Doctor Stevens held it lightly. The touch made Jamie calm, if only a little more. She didn’t feel or sound threatening. Jamie took a chance. “I understand this is extremely overwhelming. But you’re in safe hands here, and your husband is not in harm’s way either.”

Jamie controlled his cries with a pained intake of breath. “Ok. Thank you for being so kind to me. I know it’s your job, but still. What was I drugged with? What injuries have I got? I’m so sorry for the questions, but I feel like I’ve woken in a video game with no clues.”

“Well, there we are. A little humour is always good.” Doctor Stevens offered another warm smile. “From toxicology screenings we fast-tracked, a potent strain of LSD that has been linked to street trading in the city, and what was odd was a trace of a prescription sleeping pill that must have been administered within twenty-four hours of you being removed. In terms of physical injuries, a lot of swelling but no broken bones or internal damage. You’ll have some marvellous bruising to your face and abdomen, but you're young and fit; your body will already be getting to work to fix you right up.” She gently shook his hand in encouragement.

The sweetness in the doctor’s voice and assurance Dean was apparently safe let him open up a little. “Well, thank god it’s not my face, kind of my money maker of late. But the drugs, I don’t understand. I don’t take or haven’t taken anything like that in a while. I’m sorry I did use it previously.”

“No judgement here. We’re here to get you well. Rest is what will help. You have a couple of IVs. Antibiotics to fight anything nasty trying to make you weak. Nutrition to help build up your strength and an antidote to combat involuntary withdrawal. You are being given a heavy pain medication, too, which will make you drowsy for a few days I’m afraid. But you’ll be conscious intermittently. Don’t be alarmed if you drift off mid-conversation.”

“Like a day spa but for my organs then?” Jamie tried to smile, but his face pulled tightly. Like roadblocks where his smile should travel. “Fuck. Someone must have been pissed off at me. I can’t even smile. Excuse my language.”

“Oh fuck it. F-bomb all you want. If you can’t in this situation, when can you?” She shook his hand again. “Am I right?”

“Very good point. Don’t make me laugh, Doctor Stevens.” He turned away, and his shoulder began to shudder with as controlled a laugh as he could. “I’m a Nosey Parker. What’s your first name? I think I’d feel more comfortable if I could know it.”

“Of course. I’m Caroline. Call me whenever you need anything. Jamie, I must tell you that now you are reaching consciousness, I need to inform a police officer managing your case. She’s brilliant, if a little intense, but you’ll need to listen to what she has to say and answer what you can. She may have more information and possibly names for you as well.”

“I’ll do my best. I can’t remember anything from the past week. The last thing I know, I was in a bar with a friend. Then I woke up here.”

“As this could be a few days and it might be of help with your memories, I encourage you to write down your thoughts and recollections. Write about anything. This can even be a comfort to you.”

“I’d like that. I just want to see my husband, but as you say, if I can’t right now, I’ll write about him instead. He’s still here in my head and here.” Jamie rubbed his chest. “I know that sounds cheesy. I don’t really care. I wasn’t very good to him before whatever this is, happened. I have to tell him I’m sorry. That I love him now as I did over ten years ago. He just wants me to be happy and love myself. But it took its toll on him, I think. It became an effort for him, and he was making decisions and plans he thought we should make rather than wanted to. I didn’t stop him. We went off course somehow. I can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s magnificent.” Jamie ignored the screaming in his face and allowed his smile to travel to the parts of his face it always did whenever he spoke of him.

“Well, that sounds a lot like something you should be writing down. Jamie, some of our most profound realisations come in times of trauma. It’s the body telling you to prioritise what’s good for it. It sounds like this gentleman might well be what you still need despite your recent apparent protests. And that’s ok too. We’re all human. We all make a total mess of things from time to time. It’s called life.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll go get that pad and pen.”

Jamie smiled after her. The clarity and wisdom exchanged in those few minutes felt like a lifetime of questions and uncertainty answered and settled. He sighed a little with comfort. There was a pricking feeling just below that Dean may not feel the same way.

So Jamie wrote. He began to put his thoughts to page, attempting to understand how he ended up where he woke early that morning. Over the coming days he’d turn his pining for Dean into a story. A story of how they met. How they first declared their love for each other. Moving in together. Their engagement. Their wedding. Countless other moments throughout their history. Some were significant to many, but some only to them. Their first Christmas tree. The ashtray. Travel. Remembering some moments, Jamie found himself comforted by silliness and happiness in the mundane of the memories. But they were them too. They were just as in love, maybe even more so, behind closed doors, navigating their lives in Notting Hill as they were in the most exciting cities in the world, rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful, and having the very best of everything. Dean made simple an aspiration, not a failure. He missed what Dean had taught him about life. He was so sorry. Pushing against the perfect life Dean built for them. Dean carried each brick of it on his back only to check Jamie was still smiling and never to ask for help. Jamie’s guilt at pushing against it made him nauseous. But he knew Dean understood. He hoped he’d still understand the wild boy he met ten years ago. And still love him. And I want to continue to be his future boy.

Jamie wrote of Dean’s introversion. Happy being quiet. Demanding alone time with Jamie, and then and only then would he open up. Be loud. Be goofy. Be silly. Make Jamie belly laugh like no one else ever could at a party under the influence of whatever. It wasn’t needed. Jamie finally realised Dean brought out the very best in him when everything else fell away. He struggled with the words as he wrote; he couldn’t quite get into the written word how wonderful it felt to finally have that clarity. After so much time.

His writing wandered more. He held Dean in his mind. Casting his eyes over every inch of that body. The muscle. The flashing of hair on his chest and stomach. The hands that held him when he needed it and dictated his every move in their bed. The constant flush of his cheeks. A shy boy who turned into an animal when they were alone. Every dimple. Every mole. Every scar. Every birthmark. He was perfect. Jamie lost himself in his journal. Minutes turned to hours, and before long he had chapters and chapters.

Later that Sunday, Commander Penhaligon attended to Jamie. There was an efficient rap of knuckles on the door. Jamie didn’t know what the etiquette was to welcome a police officer into a hospital room, so he sat up. He shoved his journal away and held the duvet up to his chest. A default he found comfort in since waking.

“Jamie Arden-Archer?”

“Hell, hi, I mean yes. Sorry.” Jamie’s nerves swirled in his stomach. She was formidable. Abrasive, almost, but he understood she had a job to do. He made it his mission to focus on trying to find some kindness in her to settle his busy brain. Even in moments like this it still threatened to find everything fascinating. He had to focus, as Dean would say. Another fond memory he hoped he could experience again soon. The click in his face was followed by a brush of his nose. Saying, ‘You’re annoying me, but I love you to death.’

“Good afternoon. Tabitha Penhaligon. Organised Crime Commander for the Met.” She snapped her badge at him. He didn’t know what he was looking at, so he nodded and smiled. “It’s good to see you recovering. The force would like to offer our best wishes in your recovery.” She pulled a chair up next to him. The well wishes felt nice. He loosened slightly. He clocked her boots and bag. He’d ask about them, he promised himself.

“Uh, thank you. I’ll fully cooperate in whatever way I can in all this. I’m not really sure of any of it myself. I…” Jamie felt the need to say something. He’d heard a line like that on countless TV shows. It sounded ridiculous, but everything since he woke up was ridiculous, so what the hell.

“I appreciate that. I’m well aware that waking here will have been a shock, and I want to provide information for you to understand. We have suspects in custody. Some may shock you, I’m afraid, but our job is to understand why and how this crime came to be.”

“What crime? I know drugs were found in my system that I’ve never taken consciously before.” He regretted it instantly. He made a mental note to only share information when asked.

“Ok. Let’s take you through what we know.” Penhaligon took out her pocketbookand phone and began. “We believe you were central to a major drug trafficking operation. Nominated by those involved to take responsibility for orchestrating the entire process if it were to be executed successfully. You were heavily drugged with a new strain of LSD to maintain your compliance and ensure isolation from your life. My team had long been suspicious of a Christian Hollingsworth, but in the run-up to your disappearance, further concerns and intelligence charged our investigation forward. Jamie I have to tell you that Richie Gould was responsible for setting you up to be removed from your life. I understand you had a friendship. I am sorry. Hollingsworth we mentioned. One more name I need to mention is Gordon Hewitt. Hewitt has been identified as the individual who put your name forward for Hollingsworth’s operation.” Penhaligon paused. She was intense, but Jamie could see a sympathy in her eyes.

He knew the Hollingsworth name but couldn’t completely place it. He couldn’t shout. Scream. He’d done that for Dean. He felt a sense of violation. Complete betrayal. An unfortunate sense of deja vu. He'd been betrayed and used in the past. Some things never change. He saw his kindness just thrown back in his face again; every time he gave it out into the world, it was always the same except for Dean Arden-Archer. He was different. Maybe he should have almost been expecting to end up in a situation like this. Dean was the only person who never did throw it back in his face. Another epiphany. Each one was making him stronger and stronger but even more nervous. Dean would only attend out of the goodness of his heart and not to take him home. He moved the worries gently to one side for a moment. Back to the investigation at hand.

With a furtive huff, he vowed right there and then to protect himself for the rest of his life. He refused to give energy to the names listed. They were dead to him already. He focused. Imagining Dean by his side. “It’s true. I had a friendship of sorts with Mr. Gould, and I’ve known Mr. Hewitt for years through my husband’s superior at his place of work.” He didn’t divulge the relationship between Hugo and Gordon. Hugo hadn’t done wrong from what he’d heard so far, so there was no reason. If it came up, it came up.

“Thank you for clarifying. Your phone has been taken in as evidence. It’s been workshopped with an aftermarket GPS scrambling device. This was used to cut your contact with your family and friends. I…”

Jamie became angry. They were still talking about these awful people. “Sorry, officer.” He snapped in a way he hoped was acceptable when doing so at a high-ranking police officer. “I know this is all important, but I really don’t know anything, and this information means nothing to me. Do you know anything about my husband at all, please?”

“Of course. I understand. Yes, Dean is safe. We’re keeping contact and locations restricted due to more individuals involved. He is safe, however. I can share more as soon as I can. We need to be confident we’ve neutralised any further suspects.”

“I’m sorry. You’re making this sound like some government conspiracy or something.” Jamie let out a nervous laugh and wrung his hands together.

“Well, that’s because it is. To put it bluntly. It is.” Penhaligon responded without a flinch at the gravity of what she was divulging.

Jamie felt even more exhausted all of a sudden. “I’m sorry, officer, I mean ma’am, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. My husband has to frog-march me to the voting booth, to be honest. How the hell is the government involved in my situation?”

“Jamie, call me Tabitha. We’ll be in touch a lot in the coming weeks.” Jamie smiled despite the impending news. He’d gotten to her too. He had to stop himself from being cheeky. “Further suspects involved, not directly related to your disappearance, were the Home Secretary, the Mayor of London, and the Met Commissioner. This is a complex and wide-reaching investigation where we’re having to onboard MI5 and MI6, potentially Interpol.”

Jamie gawped. “You can’t be serious? Surely. Tabitha, is this actually happening?” He went cold. The suspects, his apparent disappearance, and the drugging—it was so absurd he wasn't sure he was going to laugh or have one of Dean’s panic attacks. His body was so weak he simply absorbed every ridiculous detail.

“Happened. Past tense. We stopped it. This brings me to your extraction.” Penhaligon was so sure the investigation was moving in the right direction she didn’t even feel the need to look up from her notebook.

“My extraction? Where was I? What does that mean?” Jamie felt like he was being nailed in his place. Each new development making him too stunned to move.”

“You were removed from a location in the city. I’ll provide more details on this in the coming days. I must be fully honest; it wasn’t my officers that removed you. It was your brother-in-law.”

“Henry?” Jamie frowned. He hadn’t given Lee any thought in months.

“No. Lee Archer. We’re still putting together the connection to how that came to be, but he essentially got you out of there. Survived gunfire and got you here with the assistance of one of my inspectors.” Tabitha had no idea how significant saying that name was.

“Lee? Lee saved my life?” Jamie stumbled over his words and sat up at the news.

“For want of a better phrase. Yes. He put himself in huge danger, but he was extremely lucky or stupid.”

Jamie stared into the room and covered his mouth. Something began to swim over his body. Gratitude maybe, but definitely a shedding of all the anger he held for him. “Lee. He’s not stupid. He’s brilliant.” Jamie said as much to himself as he was correcting Tabitha.

“I’ll be in touch with more details in the coming days. I’m encouraged by your recovery, Jamie. Please be assured Dean is safe and cooperating also. We’ll arrange for him to visit as soon as we can.”

“Does he want to? Has he said he wants to?” The prospect charged Jamie with excitement and trepidation.

“I sense things were not brilliant between you before the abduction?” Tabitha squinted at him.

“Not entirely. I wasn’t brilliant, to be more specific.” The smile fell away.

“Well, I haven’t sat with Dean to discuss your marriage; with all due respect, we haven’t been and won’t be able to. However, I do know he was absolutely beside himself with dread as to what may have happened to you. Jamie, speaking off record, don’t put too much energy into dwelling on a fallout prior to this ordeal. Put that into getting well. Cooperating with us, and above all else, you’ll need to support Dean as much as he will need to support you. He’s been through a lot as well.”

“If he’ll let me. I don’t know. I could have actually ruined my marriage. An apology text is all that is holding us together at the moment.”

“I can’t offer further assurances, but maybe this is something that you both need to discuss rather than with a middle-aged organised crime commander. I’ll be in touch. Take care.” She grabbed her belongings and was gone.

July 4th, 2021

On the Tuesday, Penhaligon called Dean. “Dean, Tabitha. I appreciate your patience while we neutralise further suspects and chase leads, but I do think that it is time you visited Jamie. I think it will be good for him and you, of course. I’m no marriage therapist, but he seems frantic with nerves that your marriage is in trouble. Not something I’m going to enter into the investigation, but I thought you should have an indication of where he’s at, considering we’ve kept you from him.”

“Try and stop me from seeing him. I just want him home.” Dean gripped the phone tightly. He felt guilty that Jamie felt so desperate. It did mean he still wanted him. Their marriage. Their life. They’d have work to do, but he was willing, and it seemed Jamie was too. Knowing he was in distress over not being able to see him was mildly comforting in a way. He needed to get to him to take that awful uncertainty away. For both of them.

“I’ll liaise with my DI, Terry Bates. I believe you’re already acquainted, but would you attend tomorrow morning? I understand Jamie is still on pain medication, so he may be drowsy from time to time or sleeping. Dean, he’s been through a lot, so please don’t be shocked when you see him.” She was always direct and matter-of-fact. What was the worst possible turn of events for most was completely run-of-the-mill to her, but sympathy slipped in.

Dean dug his thumb into his wedding ring; a dull bubbling pain began. The distance from Jamie. The thought that someone would lay a hand on him and cause such pain made him have to swallow a roar deep down. “Thank you for everything. I’ll need to drop back to our apartment on our way to the hospital if that can be arranged. I need to take a couple things into Jamie.” He wasn’t about to set eyes on Trouble without his rings.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll meet you, as I’d like to take you both through more details of the investigation. Be careful with what you say to him; he won’t and never will remember what he went through, and he isn’t aware of how Plutus is connected. Let me steer that side of things. Just focus on your marriage.”

They ended the call. For the first time in weeks, Dean felt light on his feet as reuniting with Trouble was getting closer and closer.

5th July, 2021

The morning was already warm. London in the summer was stifling. Dean hadn’t noticed. He had only one thing on his mind. He couldn’t think of anything else but getting to see Trouble. Hold him. Take his pain away. Tell him he’ll do better. Tell him he got lost in making life perfect again but ultimately didn’t see Jamie spiralling. Tell him he loved him and that although he broke Jamie’s heart all those years ago, not to break his now. To tell Jamie that he was stronger than himself. Jamie always was stronger. It took strength to stay so delicate and kind. Jamie was his absolute centre. The sun he orbited. His beacon. Always.

Lee joined Dean as Bates drove. Lee was quiet. Focused on a reunion of his own. They diverted to the apartment, and Dean scrambled for the closet to grab the rings from the safe. He wrapped them in his palm and kissed it. “I’m coming for you, baby. We’ll get through this. I know it. Trouble and Big Boy are back.” He bounded back to the car.

The ward was quiet. Doctor Stevens met Dean as he walked in. “I’m going to leave you to it.” Lee grabbed his shoulders.

Dean was overcome with emotion; his voice broke. “Yeah. Ok. I’ll, uh, catch up with you later.” He was nervous. Tears bulging in his eyes. Waves of love, relief, sadness, anger, and uncertainty of what Jamie may feel. He remembered the text from Jamie the night he disappeared; there was hope, but time had passed, and he couldn’t stake his marriage on a text message.

“Mr. Arden-Archer? Doctor Caroline Stevens. I’ve been caring for Jamie since he was admitted.” Doctor Stevens's face was kind. Dean felt a little more at ease. “I know this is overwhelming, but I think the best medicine is for you to see each other. He’s not stopped talking about you.”

“Thank you for everything. I hope he’s happy to see me.” Dean began to stumble on his words. “Sorry, I’m a wreck at the moment.”

She grabbed his hand reassuringly. “You’re doing just fine. Both of you are. He’s sleeping at the moment but should wake soon. Don’t be alarmed by the bruising to his face. He’s also recovering from abdominal injuries but will make a full recovery.”

“My boy. Jesus.” Dean wiped his eyes. “How could anyone harm him?”

“Awful people who I’m sure are being held to account. But Jamie’s in good hands here, and he needs you. That’s the best medicine, a face you long to see. We’ll leave you to it. In you go.” Doctor Stevens and a group of nurses huddled just behind, looking on at him with happy eyes.

“Thank you. All of you. Ok. Let me at him.” Dean turned for Jamie’s room.

Dean slipped through the door delicately. A solid lump in his throat. Nervous still. These were fresh nerves. Like he hadn’t felt for years. Like he had when he first set eyes on him all those years ago. Stealing glances up at his face. Even now. That beautiful face. Always almost twitching to smile, joke, say lovely things, and say the things no one else had the balls to say. He felt privileged to be in Jamie’s presence every day. Now, he lay sleeping. A quiet Jamie. Still, Jamie. A stark reminder of what he'd been through. He saw past the IVs, the bruising, the silence, and the gown that he knew Jamie would have tried to make more fashionable in the lonely hours needing to entertain himself. The thought made him giggle silently. Then he sobered.

Something instinctive kicked in. The rawest role of a husband, a partner. To simply be there in that moment of absolute vulnerability and rawness. A quiet came over him. He glided to Jamie. The anger, the want to beat those who did this to a pulp, calcified, and he used it to give Jamie strength. He hoped. Every kiss, word, and touch from here on in would be a transfer of strength from him to Trouble. Getting him well again. This was the ‘through sickness’ part. Right in front of him. He found Jamie’s left hand and held it. Rubbing the space where his rings should always have been. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled the rings out. Considering them for a moment. His mind wandered to that day. Jamie looking like a prince from some other world. Too perfect for this one. That's how he ended up here. Dean scrunched his eyes shut at the thought. He picked up Jamie’s hand and slid the rings onto the finger. Back where they should always be. He leaned forward and whispered, “I’m here, Trouble. I'm here. Big Boy is here.” He kissed his forehead and retreated, but a grip of his hand stopped him, and he smiled.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open. That voice. He knew that voice. He loved that voice. The voice he would seek out in any room, and everything would be ok again. He sought it out in this room, and there it was, and he hoped with every ounce of energy he had left and a love as strong as it was when it was realised in Paris ten years before that everything would be ok again. “Dean.” Jamie whispered. He wanted to give more, but his body was exhausted.

Jamie’s eyes met Dean’s. He fell in love all over again. Satellites locking on their star. Dean was above him. The presence of this magnificent man. The profile. The prospect of that weight on him again. He hoped Dean would want to lie on top of him again. The eyes that were so kind it was almost heartbreaking. Lips so soft that it was almost at odds with the man that Dean was. The planes of his face. Equal, almost symmetrical, a statue with a heart. His, he still hoped. He hoped. He hoped. He hoped.

Jamie crumbled. Blurting out everything he’d pent up over the days that came before despite his exhaustion. “Dean, I'm so sorry. I almost discarded you. Us. I honestly had no clue what happened before waking here, though, a few days ago. You have to believe me.” He paused and shuffled to push himself up. Dean pushed him back, and Jamie clung to his arm. He thought Dean may be pushing him away. That he really didn't want anything more from their marriage, but being so kind, he had to visit. The thought made Jamie spiral further. “You have to believe me. You have to fucking believe me!” Jamie clawed at his arm. Dean pushed himself to sit beside him. Pushing him further into the bed. Almost restraining him.

“Baby. Sssh. Sssh. I believe you. I never doubted that I did. We hit some black ice. That's ok. What happened after is nothing you had control over. I can't...” Dean trailed off, and this time Jamie jumped to assure him.

“I’m here now. You won't get rid of me that easily.” Jamie teased as much as his tired mind would allow.

Dean pounced on him. Wrapping his arms around his body. Tight. Jamie was shocked but held him. It was usually him who pounced. The suddenness of Dean collapsing on him made him realise again how much worse this could have all been. “I almost lost you. I was so fucking scared. I didn't want to be here without you. I’ll do better too. Be more present for you. I promise. Oh Jesus, I can’t imagine not being with you.” Dean shook and wept.

Jamie gulped. This Dean, this most vulnerable, was new. Wounds were harder to locate and treat when they were in the heart and mind. Jamie brushed his cheek. “We’re ok. You’re ok. Come here. I promise too.” His eyes drifted over Dean’s cheek. He frowned. “Who hurt you?”

Dean retreated. For some reason he felt shame. A shame that Jamie had no clue of the damage he'd caused unintentionally. It wasn’t him. Treating others with such disregard wasn't Jamie. That was what was so cruel about what had happened. “You.” He whispered he couldn't look at him.

Jamie bolted up and shook him. “What do you mean? I'd never harm you.” His face fell slack in disbelief. Jamie looked at his hands, unable to believe he was capable of anything like that. “My rings. They’re back.” He frowned. Piecing together how this came to be. “My god, did I hit you with them and tell you our marriage was over? Please tell me I’m wrong.” Jamie fell against him, gripping his arm.

Dean grabbed him, biting down on his lip so hard. He realised this was going to be the toughest time for them to navigate together. But that was the most fundamental point. They were together, and they would navigate it; it would take time, but he knew they could do it. Jamie was strong. He’d taught him that. To be the strong man he always was. “There’s so much to tell, but I know it wasn’t you speaking. Babe, there are going to be parts of your disappearance we're going to be finding answers to over time, but some we might never. You visited me on Thursday night. Under the influence of that shit. You told me it was over and threw your rings at me. Not before hitting me across the face. I was fighting for our marriage with someone I didn’t even know.” The recounting of that haunting meeting made Dean sick with sadness. He swallowed it down. He had to pull Jamie through this.

Jamie put his hand to his mouth. Terrified of actions and words that were carried out by his body and he had no idea. “I’m sorry. I can't believe all of this. Dean, you know I would never say something like that. Why would I? It took me twenty-four years to feel seen and heard. Understood. Loved for who I am. I'd never throw that away. I fight it sometimes, but you know why. I love you. Us. You're everything. You're my Atlas. You hold up my sky.” Jamie felt the power of the words he'd written; they needed to be said. It was true. Dean held up his world, and no matter how much it could pain and exhaust him at times, Dean carried on, pushing, supporting, and loving. Jamie felt guilt again at rebelling against something he’d found that was almost sacred, it was so rare.

“I missed your words, the way you articulate the world. I don't know if I do hold up your sky, but I do try. I hope it’s good enough for you.” Dean was always questioning his ability in their marriage. On the pitch and in the boardroom, he was confident and dynamic, but his marriage, his proudest achievement, made him sick with inadequacy from time to time. Jamie was there most of the time to stop him from spiralling too. “I will always wonder. You're not like anyone else.”

Jamie stroked a hand over Dean’s hairline. “You’re absolutely enough. More than enough. Yes, I'm hard-work, emotional, intense, stubborn, and chaotic, but you always said you'd take all parts of me on. What I have come to realise is that I should compromise. Not just expect you to deal with the madness. I’ll do better, too. Imagine I hadn't had the chance to tell you. I'll tell you every day how magnificent you are.”

“Another chapter then?” Dean grabbed his chin and kissed him. Jamie gasped. He would never tire of the way Dean was with him.

“You bet. Although I'm starting to think that this book should be a series, there are so many chapters, and I just know there’s more for us to write. Together. Equally involved in what our life looks like.”

“I agree. How about this?” He grabbed Jamie’s hands. “I’ll agree to be more involved in your colourful world if you agree to be a little more present in my slightly beige and quiet one? It’s never been a question of us drifting apart, but we do need to work at our marriage, and that can’t stop.” He couldn't believe he was using Lee’s words. “To work at a marriage isn't admittance of failure; it’s where the commitment comes in. If you want to work hard at it, then that's all that really matters. It’s so much more delicate than perhaps we gave it credit for.”

“Absolutely. We need to keep our hands tight and jump into it when we're both ready to. Just like you agreed on that terrace in Paris all those years ago.”

“Essaie de m'arrêter. Problème.” Dean mumbled ‘try and stop me, Trouble’ bashfully. Looking down at their hands still tight.

Jamie grinned. Even in his medicated state, the way the French rolled off Dean’s tongue made his toes clench. “Don’t do that to me.” He huffed with hunger he couldn't satisfy.

Dean just flashed his sexy smile, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Another bedside was being visited. Lee sat quietly with Drew and proceeded to do so every day over the days that followed.

He’d read him art reviews from Apollo and read new developments in law in the fields of youth and social care from The New Law Journal.

Drew always sat and listened with a comforting smile as Lee took him through his work. They were worlds apart professionally, but they had an admiration for each other’s passions in those quiet moments in Lee’s apartment. Lee hoped they’d be able to continue what they admired about each other when he woke. Hope. All he had in those excruciatingly long hours while Drew was sedated and fighting.

He’d run out of pages of text and find himself having a conversation with Drew. Lee of the past would have scoffed at the idea of having a conversation with someone who could not respond—pathetic, almost—but this new Lee found solace in just even having a one-sided conversation with him. Being with him was all he cared about. Willing him to sit up, open his eyes, forgive him, and call him Tiger again. The thought kept him there. Anchored to the chair every day. Even if Drew were to reject him in the end, he’d make peace with the time he had with him. Those precious hours.

When he ran out of conversation through exhaustion, he’d daydream of a life with Drew. Fearing he wouldn’t want it when he woke, but at least he could imagine for now.

Guilt washed over him with every hour he sat, staring. Scanning. Surveying. Did he see a flinch or a twitch? Did Drew perhaps on some level know he was there? Was it a subtle protest at his presence, or was it what Lee hoped for, a subtle celebration that he was with him, and that was the only signal his body gave him? He continued to hope. And hope.

He had to have the opportunity to mend that heart again, if Drew would let him. Give him a second chance that Lee himself was painfully aware he may not deserve. Despite everything.

While Drew rested, he took leave from his bedside and wandered into the hall days later. All signs were reassuring doctors that Drew would wake soon, and he would be able to be the view he hoped Drew wanted when he opened his eyes.

In the meantime, he had to speak to Jamie. Despite his actions, he still had a visceral need to apologise.

He met Dean at Jamie’s door.

“I fully appreciate that you’ve had little time together, but would it be possible for me to have some time with…”

Dean was outside Jamie’s door. Exhausted, but a peace cloaked him. Lips that had been tightened almost white for days now softened into a cautious smile. He didn’t say a word; he looked up at his brother and pushed the door open and nodded. Lee tapped his shoulder in thanks.

“Oh, there you are.” Jamie beamed as Lee walked over to him cautiously. Jamie opened his arms, so Lee reciprocated. He felt like he saw Jamie properly for the first time. His dynamism, his strength. Despite his situation, Jamie still commanded the room. His energy was like another being in the room with them. He was sharp. Welcoming. Forgiving. Again, Lee hoped. He finally realised he was fearful of Jamie all those years because he was everything he was scared to be. Loud. Love hard. Curious about the world around him. Not a care in the world for others impressions of him. So completely himself.

“Lee Archer. You saved my life. I’ll spend the rest of it grateful for you every day.” They delicately embraced. Jamie held him. Lee stayed. Jamie frowned; a hug from Lee was as clinical as a handshake after a deal was closed in a boardroom. Not anymore.

“Jamie, I’m sorry for it all. My actions. My attitude toward you.” Lee still held him. Whispering.

Jamie pushed him back to look at him. “Don’t. Forget it.” Jamie held his shoulders, hoping the grip would make his words sink in. “You saved me. There is nothing else to say. You’re a brilliant and brave man, and I’m honoured to call you my brother-in-law.”

“Only if you’re sure. Jamie I was always at odds with your approach to life, everything. Now I realise how fucking freeing it is to just grab at life in handfuls. Thank you for that.”

Jamie’s wicked grin came over his lips. “It is a little amusing. You could have just apologised. But you go and do something so bloody dramatic like saving my life to prove your point. You’re such a drama queen.” Jamie tapped his shoulder playfully.

“Oh, fuck off.” They fell together laughing.

Dean looked on through the door. A sense of pride and utter peace was running through him.

Lee spoke with Jamie of his history with Drew and how he came to be a member of Khonsu. How he made the connection between Gordon and where he was being held.

He spoke in nervous bursts, waiting for a judgemental comment to come from Jamie. It never came. Lee realised this was why Dean and Jamie stood the test of time. They didn’t have kindred personalities or shared interests, but their values as human beings were absolutely exactly the same. When you take everything else away, that’s what is left. It came down to it in those days that had passed. Nothing could break them because they valued the human experience in the exact same way. Loving deeply. Cherishing family. Supporting friends. Appreciating how their success could better others and not just themselves. Working hard to the point of exhaustion because the fruits of their labours could and would be happily shared with those they loved.

His realisation was quickly interrupted as Jamie bolted up in bed and slapped his arm. “Oh my god! We can double date!”

Lee rolled his eyes and laughed. “Never change, Jamie.” He paused, and his thoughts went back to Drew and the possibility that he could be waiting for nothing but dismissal. “If he wants to be in a relationship with me where double dating will actually be a possibility.”

“You love him, right?”

“Correct.”

“You treated him badly? Right?”

“Thank you for the reminder, but again, correct.”

“Sorry. But you did. He’s still orbited your life all these years since, despite being pretty much held captive by that monster of a human being.”

“He did.” Lee sighed.

“That means something. You’re unfinished. And he’s really fucking hot, so you have to get back with him. Just for you to know, it’s the only reason I married your brother.” Jamie laughed.

“He is, uh, yeah, as you say…”

“Lee? No one is going to come in here and take you away to an asylum for saying the man you love is hot. You can actually say it. I won’t tell.” Jamie played, but there was sincerity in his words. He wanted to make Lee comfortable being proud of who he was in love with.

Lee got up. “You’re right. Yes, he’s really fucking hot.” Jamie clasped his hands to his mouth and laughed again. It was a tonic to be able to hear laughter from himself and everyone else.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Dean returned.

“Hi babe, oh nothing, we’re just discussing how hot Drew is.” Jamie flashed a teasing smile at him.

“He is, huh?” Dean couldn’t help but giggle along.

“Don’t get jealous, Big Boy. Just an observation.” Jamie teased.

“Well, he’s off limits anyway.” Lee said proudly with arms splayed.

They all continued to giggle and joke. In ten years it was the first natural and genuine conversation the three of them had.

Lee still hoped Drew would wake and want him back.

July 7th, 2021

That day came. Lee was silent and held Drew’s hand. He felt a twitch. Life. The hand in his began to grip, as if searching for what it was holding. Lee flushed all over. Nerves again. But he’d weaponised the nerves into determination to do the right thing. Dean’s words, “you’re fucking it up,” made him grip Drew’s palm harder; this time there was a sureness, almost a tug and a gasp. Drew woke.

Drew’s beautiful brow furrowed before his eyes burst open, dancing over the room, and those marbles of hazel fell on Lee. Lee wanted to turn away; he didn’t feel worthy of looking at them. But he bit his lip, blinking tears. Drew spoke. “Ti, Tiger? Is that you?”

“Yes, it is. You’re ok. You’re safe.” Lee pulled Drew’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. He gasped and cried. Relief. Love.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again. I didn’t think I’d wake up again. I’m glad I did. Aren’t you a sight to wake up to after being shot?” Drew chuckled through a strained whisper. Lee smiled hopelessly. The words were at the tip of his tongue.

“Drew, I’m sorry. I fucked up. Ran scared. You saved my family. I…” Lee stuttered. He knew what he needed to say; it wasn’t a case of shying away this time; it was the pent-up years of regret that made him have to think about getting this right. Drew knew how to coax it out of him. Something Lee always fought against rather than seeing that he was just pulling out a part of him he was always afraid would make him weak. Or at least appear so.

Drew’s face was soft. He knew Lee knew what he needed to hear for them to close one torrid chapter and begin their next. Drew longed for this chance again. He had spent time over the years wishing Lee was in turmoil. He wished he was missing him. Wishing he felt guilty. Only because he wanted what he knew Lee wanted deep down, too. It was true. Lee didn’t shut him down through coldness and disregard for him. He did absolutely run scared.

They were just on either side of a thin piece of glass. Almost there. Crack it delicately, and it was gone. Drew didn’t wonder in that moment if saving Jamie was the push Lee needed to be sat at his bedside. It was the fact he was there. Despite what had happened. He was here when his family was reeling. That was a testament to Lee’s honesty with himself. That’s what Drew misunderstood back then. Innocently. When Lee said he needed time and needed to stay quiet, maybe he wasn’t as accommodating as he’d reasoned with himself for years after. London was rubble for them and everyone around them in that moment. This was the time to rebuild what they didn’t allow themselves the time or the understanding to before. This was peacetime after war.

Drew sighed. “Lee. Tell me what I need. I know you know what to say. I know you're ready now.” Drew pulled on Lee’s hand. A request. It was hoarse. Desperate but defiant. If that wasn’t love, then what the hell was? First conscious breaths, asking someone to love you as you always had them.

“I love you. I love you. I always did. I love you. I…” Lee got up and moved to him. Kissing him softly on the lips. He breathed out with relief as that beautiful brow brushed his.

“I love you too. Again.” Drew smiled. His wide, boyish smile. Cheeky and kind. Lee fell in love again and again and again.

Dean walked past the door and giggled.

“Well, that only took you how many years?” Drew teased. It felt wonderful. He stretched his arms through to his fingers and his legs down through his toes before his gunshot wound in his abdomen reminded him of where he was. “Ah shit.” He grimaced.

Lee jumped to him.

“I’ll be ok. No sudden movements for me for a while.” Drew’s eyes flashed at Lee’s, who was frozen in a concerned frown.

“Don’t joke. This is serious. We have to get you well.”

There it was. The ‘we’ Drew had been searching for for years. Now so natural and sure when it flew out of Lee’s mouth and filled the room.

Later that day word had gotten back to Penhaligon that Drew was conscious and able to speak.

“Drew Green? Commander Penhaligon. I’m glad to see you recovering. You’ve had quite the ordeal. I need to record a statement from you, and we will require full cooperation from you in relation to our investigation. Your partner, Christian Hollingsworth, remains in…”

“Former. Former partner. And I am fully prepared to cooperate. The sleeping pill I…” Drew’s eyes darted to Lee. He was expecting a recoil, but Lee just continued to look at him with support in his eyes. The reflection made Drew stutter.

“Of course. I wanted to get a preliminary explanation for that. There's no time like the present. I will record this testimony, provided you give consent.”

“Of course. I have nothing to hide.” Drew pulled himself up and winced.

“Do we have to do this right now? You can see he’s in pain.”

“Yes. Drew, carry on.” Penhaligon was curt. She had her job to do and was still under obligation to assess the depths of Drew’s and Peter’s involvement and potential complicity and consider if arrests were to be made.

“It’s ok.” Drew held Lee’s hand in assurance. Lee huffed down further protests. “Ok, Thursday night, that was the first night I had any real idea what Christian was doing. You have to believe I had no clue what this was. I knew deep down something was happening, but the way Christian controlled me, I was isolated. He demanded I create paintings for those he was close with. Maybe an insurance policy should things fall apart? And here they are.”

“So you’re responsible for the paintings?”

“Yes. I couldn’t decline. Officer, Christian is extremely dangerous to everyone around him. The word no just didn’t apply to him. I…” Drew tightened his lips. He’d said too much. He thought he’d never have to air this part, but as Christian had done before, here he was, trapping Drew again.

“You had a relationship with him. Do you mean there were issues around consent?” Penhaligon spoke slowly. Knowing the gravity of what she was asking.

Drew’s eyes went from Penhaligon to the wall. He didn’t want to look anyone in the eye. Lee couldn’t take it. He pulled his hand back. He held his hand over his face and stormed out. “Jesus fucking Christ,” stumbling to the door.

“Lee? What’s happened?” Dean was passing.

“Oh my god. This just gets worse and worse. Can I really handle this? I deal with all manner of horrific things in the courts, but when it’s someone close to you, it’s a different point of view.”

“Can you tell me what’s happened?”

“There’s further information about Thursday night.”

Dean stiffened. Anything more that Jamie possibly went through would make the anger he was already wrestling with combust into an uncontrollable rage. He shoved it to the back of his mind for his brother. “Ok. Can you tell me? Don’t shut down on me. Come on.”

“He’s talking about it now, but the officer brought up the question of consent in the relationship. I…”

Dean knew instantly what the rest of Lee’s sentence would be. He was gentle. He held his brother’s shoulders. The silence was a sad truth. Dean filled it delicately. “You can handle this. You have to. For him. Go back in there and hold him up. This is the relationship part, Lee. You hold them up even if what they’re saying or going through is tearing you apart inside. I’m so sorry.” He pushed his forehead against Lee’s.

Lee straightened and breathed sharply. “You’re right. He needs me. This is for us to navigate together. I’ll tell you what I can.” Lee turned and slipped back inside.

Dean watched on proudly as his brother went back to the role he was the most inexperienced at among the brothers. He was the eldest. Arguably the most intelligent. The keeper of protocol and doing things right. And here he was learning to swim in a new sea as a partner to a man who’d been to the darkest depths. He knew he could do it.

Dean and Jamie were sitting talking. All smiles and playful hands on each other when Commander Penhaligon appeared later.

“Sorry to interrupt. Can I have five minutes with you both?” Penhaligon didn’t wait for an answer. Dean jumped to attention on his feet, and Jamie recoiled subtly. “Ok, so Drew Green has given me a statement and clarified a few areas. Drew administered the sleeping medication, one of his own, on Thursday evening. Hollingsworth instructed him to administer a further dose of the LSD cocktail, but he knew who you were at this point and couldn’t go through with the demand. He gave you the pill to keep you subdued until he had an opportunity to remove you. That’s when Lee comes into the picture. I’m of the thinking to NFA this crime. Because, Jamie, this is a crime. You were administered a prescription medication that was not your own while unable to make a decision whether to take this or not. However, as CCTV footage attests, Mr. Green was taking action to have you removed.”

Jamie blinked fast. Holding the duvet around his chest. He glanced over at Dean, who was now looking at the floor. “Drew was doing what he could to keep me from harm as best he could. I wouldn’t even want to pursue charges myself. What kind of person would that make me? Thanks for taking a bullet for me, but I want you arrested? No way. Seems like there are more good people in the world than I thought.”

Dean looked up and chuckled.

“Thank you, Jamie. I appreciate your views. I’ll review with the CPS, but I’m fairly confident they will agree. Dean, the Plutus involvement is being brought under our investigation while we work with regulators as well. I understand you’ve been given leave, but it is likely you’ll need to be available.” Dean smiled weakly and nodded. “Gordon Hewitt admitted to a relationship with Hugo Grosvenor, CEO of Plutus. Any light you can shed on that may help. Also, the link between Gordon and you, lies with Dean’s father, Mark.”

“Pardon me? How many more people are involved in this?” Jamie froze again.

“Mark Archer employed Gordon as an accountant out of Manchester University while Dean’s grandfather was still CEO of Archer Logistics. He was allowed to walk following a case of fraud. Mark’s decision. No charges brought. He had a long-standing obsession with wealth and believed almost pathologically that families such as the Archers were everything wrong with the world. He made a new life for himself in London. Anyway, we could dissect and hypothesise on wealth and capitalism endlessly, but that isn’t for now. A long standing grudge it would seem. Jamie, you’re out of it now, and your families are. Dean is cooperating with the Plutus investigation, but it’s over. There will likely be a government inquiry, and expect a vote of no confidence and a general election in the coming weeks. Anyway, that’s for Westminster to hash out.” Jamie was gobsmacked. Dean just as much. Like fish stranded on the shore.

Tabitha continued. She must have become immune to reactions on the faces pulled by victims when they were being given the full details of what they’d been through. “We’re continuing the investigation, but you’ll likely see less of me before you’re discharged. And the trial will almost definitely require both your presences. Taking my police officer hat off for a moment, I must commend your corporation. And yours, Dean. This has been a lot to process. We’ll continue to be in touch in the coming months. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything further, contact me or DCI Bates.” She gathered her large leather tote and left.

“Shit. I told her you have to force me to vote most years. And I’ve inadvertently and unconsciously brought down the government. And what the fuck is up with Plutus? I knew Gordon and Richie were involved, but how much further does this web reach?” Jamie held his arms out for an answer. One Dean couldn’t give, so he just laughed with incredulousness.

“I have no words for any of it. But your Big Boy did get cautioned for assault. This loveable hulk can cause quite the scene when he’s on the edge.” Dean came and placed his arms on either side of Jamie. He was done having their time dominated by these events. He wanted Jamie to himself. Wrapping himself around him gave Jamie the signal, a subtle hint to change the subject or can I get my leg over you?. The latter was out of the question, so he pursued the assault. He was almost laughing at the conversations they were having.

“Oh, did he?” Jamie kissed both sets of Dean’s knuckles. “Did you hurt yourself?” Jamie whispered with heavy eyes and moved his legs apart. “Babe, I don’t know how long I’ll take to let you near me that way. I want you to have me, but I just can’t give you all of me right now.”

“Couple of things. Elections aren’t every year; they’re not the Met Gala. And no, they don’t happen on the first Monday of May routinely, either.” He held a palm to Jamie’s mouth, stopping a sarcastic quip from escaping. Jamie kissed his palm. “Secondly, Richie was on the receiving end. Tackled him to the floor when I realised his connection to a cyberattack as part of this whole thing. Wasn’t really a match for me.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. Proud of his actions.

“Don’t torture me with images of you being a hero. You are one, but don’t wind me up. I can’t do anything about it right now. And thank you for the clarification on general election frequency. I've thought of nothing else since waking up in here.” Jamie slapped Dean’s shoulder playfully. All he could muster.

“I’ll wait for you. Because you’re my match. You’re the love of my life. You wait for the love of your life. You get them well, and in the end, it’s so worth it.” Dean leaned and kissed his lips. “When you’re ready, you can have me whatever way you want. I’ll have you whatever way I want. Sex to make up for lost time is one of my favourite sports. You know that.” He kissed his nose. “Why else do you think I agree to business trips? So, I’ll wait.” He giggled, knowing Jamie was ravenous deep down. Beyond the bruises. Beyond the pain relief. Beyond everything happening right now. Like some excruciatingly long introduction to what would be a spectacular main event. He curled his toes under the duvet. A quiet release. All he had. He was on God knows how much pain medication, but he felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach and shifted in the bed, biting his lip, remembering the fullness of him deep inside, the hands pushing and pulling his skin and limbs, and those lips lost in their happy place. The weight and power when it was time. It would be a long wait, but their sexual history made it even more painfully worth the torture.

He had to be honest. He gulped his yearnings away. “Seriously though, it really will take time. I’m sorry.” Jamie bowed his head. “I can’t be that version of me right now.”

Dean grabbed his chin. Perfect. Jamie sighed with relief. “Hey. Excuse me? I’m not a single-track-mind monster. My priority is getting you home and well again. Everything else comes later. Literally.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“I love you. I’m so sorry for everything again. And where exactly is our home now?”

“I think, on reflection, because of course I've not been up to much recently, just foiling a multi-million-pound cyber attack and learning my politically ignorant husband caused the biggest stir in Westminster’s history. But I have found time; I made time to think about us.”

“I’m listening.” Jamie didn’t want to demand they move back to the city full time, but he’d had time to reflect, and although Marlow was beautiful, it didn’t quite fit. He didn’t have the heart to tell Dean because he knew it was a dream of his. Their problems came from living one of their dreams while the other was struggling to adjust. There were worse things to struggle over, but they’d become complacent. Jamie went along with Dean’s dream, and Dean didn’t stop to check that this was something Jamie wanted in equal measure.

“The thing is. We’re different. What’s considered perfect for most. The big house in the country. Flash cars on the drive. Like your favourite pieces of tailoring, you can spend all the money on it, but once it’s on, if it doesn’t quite fit, it’s got to be adjusted. So let’s adjust. I’m happy wherever you are, and you’re happy in the city. I feel like it’s your second husband, and that’s ok. It gives you life and joy. I don’t want to be responsible for stopping that.”

“Oh, Dean, you mean sell up and move back full-time?” Jamie restrained his excitement. Even if it spilt out, he knew he would understand.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen. Jamie, it’s ok to tell me what you want. You won’t offend or hurt me. I’m a pragmatist; I just want to know.” Dean just wanted him. When everything was said and done, he wanted Jamie. Happy. Well.

“Sell. Put the money somewhere I can’t spend it, and we’ll keep it for the future.” Jamie blurted. He was sure of his decision. It was true. London was his city. Yes, it was almost an abusive relationship at times, but he’d made a family here and met Dean here. His career. His second career. As long as Dean was with him, he didn’t want to leave. Not yet. That’s what it was. He felt rushed to finish a chapter he didn’t think had really finished when they moved before.

“Consider it done.” Dean kissed him. He took every kiss he could get.

In the days that followed, Peter would wake. Corroborating Drew’s statement and the CCTV galvanised their claims without question. Joey returned in a civilian capacity to Peter’s bedside while Peter apologised profusely. Joey didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted him back.

July 12th, 2021

The day came for Jamie to be discharged. He’d spoken with Lee at length about Drew. He wanted to know everything about him, to erase the guilt of years before when he cast aspersions about him when he saw him in that article.

Drew had a knock on the door, and Jamie quietly stepped in with a gift bag. Dressed in Dean’s grey tracksuit. He looked like a teenager.

“Jamie?” Drew shifted upright in his bed. “Jamie I’m sorry for it all. I didn’t know what was happening, and when I saw you, I had to…”

Jamie smiled and came to him. He pressed a finger against Drew’s lips. “Will you stop? I came here to thank you. And to meet you. Warn you about Lee.” Jamie sat by his bed and flashed a grin. Drew let out a stilted laugh. “I did judge you. I didn’t know you then, but I saw an article where you and that piece of shit were photographed together, and I wasn’t kind. I’m retrospectively sorry.”

“Ok. Well pleased to meet you in slightly better circumstances this time. And after these past weeks, please forget any judgement.” Drew was keen to erase any doubt Jamie had over his guilt.

“Back atcha.” Jamie smiled warmly and then sobered a little, like he’d rehearsed what he needed to say. There was now something that inextricably linked them together, and Jamie felt he had to address it with the respect Drew’s actions deserved. “Drew, you’ll be a part of my life forever in more ways than one. I’ll spend my life thanking you for simply existing and Peter. Or Rio, as you knew him.”

“You don’t have to do that. I did what I had to. You didn’t deserve a single moment of what happened to you.”

Jamie got up and pounced for a hug. Drew was the latest victim of Jamie’s abruptly delivered tight and deep hugs. “You’ll be in my heart forever, brother.” Jamie whispered and then retreated, not before kissing Drew on the forehead.

Drew grabbed his hand and fought back tears. “Brother.” He managed in a strain. The sense of something new came over him. Heavy. Breathtaking but completely and utterly wonderful: a family.

“Now. I have a gift for you. No protests. I know you’re an artist, and when you’re well enough, you will paint again for the world to see.” Jamie opened the gift bag and pulled out a wooden presentation box of Old Holland oil paints. “You have the tools to make your craft. I love art of any kind. And I’ll support anyone creatively.” Jamie smiled proudly.

“Oh, Jamie. These cost a fortune. I can’t accept these.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I wanted to share this with you too.” Jamie pulled a flyer out of the bag and passed it to Drew.

“What’s this?”

“A mock up of the ad we’re going to run at Rainbow Roads. Even in the hospital I can’t keep still. I had this created and couriered over this morning. I want you to teach our service users art classes. Give them hope. Focus. A creative outlet. And escape. What you do through art. Pass that gift on.” Jamie grabbed his hand again.

Drew scanned the address. “My god, it’s my…”

Jamie’s eyes went wide with realisation. “You’re the artist who had the space before us? Well, now you’re going back.” He smiled broadly at the serendipity of Drew’s journey back to what he loved. In a place he loved.

Now it was Drew’s turn to grab him for a hug. “Jamie, this is too much. Thank you. Thank you.”

From beyond the door, Lee and Dean were watching with the biggest of grins. Dean put a hand to his brother’s shoulder. “You do know these two are going to ruin our lives?” Dean teased.

“I know. And the best part?” Lee smiled back.

“What?”

“I can’t wait.” They paused and then fell into each other laughing. Silly and unrestrained after weeks of silence, anxious rage, and uncertainty. It felt almost wrong; it felt so good.

“Before I go. Just some advice about Lee. He’s a complicated soul. A deep soul. Stubborn but will do anything for those he loves. Your job will be to remind him every day that being loved and loving is absolutely what he deserves. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Jamie paused before getting up.

“What?”

“Hmmm, that’s the weirdest thing. I just described myself when describing Lee. Maybe we’re not so different after all. Isn’t that a terrifying thought?” Jamie got up and chuckled, his smile spreading at the thought. He knew it was lovely. “Get better. There are family and students waiting for you. Speak soon.”

Jamie left the room, and Drew sank back and smiled as Lee joined him again.

Jamie wasn’t done. He visited Peter next. Dean waited patiently, watching as Jamie sprinkled magic and optimism throughout the ward. He just watched with a goofy smile.

“Peter.” Jamie embraced him. Peter reciprocated.

“Jamie. I am very sorry for it all. I was terrified for myself, and we saw you, and everything began to come to bits. Sorry, I do not have the right words for this.” Jamie admired his grasp of English given the circumstances.

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything. Peter, come back. Work for me at the Arden Agency. You were such a loss. Please. Look.” Jamie went into his kit bag, Nike this time; Dean reasoned he wouldn’t bring Jamie’s expensive luggage to a hospital. He pulled out a folder. “This is a contract of employment. Marketing consultant. Full benefits and salary are outlined for you. Take a look…”

Jamie had no chance to finish. Peter grabbed the folder and flew through the pages to the signing page. Scribbled and handed it back. “When am I to start?”

Jamie laughed. Like they had all those years ago. He saw a man before him now. More sure of what he wanted. Maybe what he’d been through had forced him to mature more than was necessary. Either way, Jamie was impressed. “Uh, maybe you can get well first, and then we can sit down and hammer out dates, etcetera.” Jamie held his hand. “Oh, Peter, I’m never going to be able to thank you enough. You risked your life in there for me. I missed you at Connect and afterward. I knew something was off at the funeral. But you seemed not willing to be talked to. I…”

“Jamie. As you say, I must get well. I want to get back to your work. I will tell you one day, but not now. It is of the past. You are here. Dean is well, I do hope? Drew is making a recovery? All is getting to be ok.” Peter rubbed his hand. He didn’t have the energy to go into the details of the years that took him into Christian and his network’s grasps. Jamie respected him and left it there.

“I understand. Thank god you’re here and Drew. Yes, Dean is well; he’s been in the wars too, but we’ll get there. I’ll leave you to rest, and we shall speak soon.” Jamie got up and walked away. He turned back to Peter and winked at him. “Good to have you back.” He was gone.

They arrived at the front door of the apartment via police escort. Dean had agreed with fellow residents to increase security. Now there was face recognition and fingerprint-enabled access throughout the complex. Jamie spotted the new equipment immediately. “I’ve just gotten out of the hospital, and you’re inflicting new keys and locks on me? Dean, I'm a nightmare with keys as it is.” He giggled, but it was also the truth.

Dean looked at him, proud of his new Fort Knox. “I know that. But these are in addition. You're not likely to lose your fingertips or your face, are you?”

“Well, on that subject, this face that you adore so much, actually, I did nearly lose.” Jamie snorted a laugh that masked the unease of what could have been.

Dean instantly grabbed him. “Shit, I'm sorry. That was so fucking insensitive of me.” He squeezed Jamie’s head to his chest. Jamie tried to speak from his first meeting with Big Pillow since he could remember.

“Will you stop?” He pushed himself up and grabbed Dean’s jacket in his fists. Smiling. “Just stop. This is all amazing. I was kind of joking. Please don't beat yourself up over absolute nonsense. Christ, if I can't poke fun at this in some way sometimes, I'll go fucking crazy.”

“Ok. I'm sorry for being sorry. Shall we?” Dean pushed the door open, and Jamie went through delicately. He walked into the living area and paused. He turned to meet Dean’s eyes as Dean set down his bags.

“Yeah. This feels like home. You. This place. I feel better already.”

Dean moved to him and kissed his forehead, grabbing his face in his palms. “Welcome home, Trouble.”

The coming days saw Jamie begin to regress. Night terrors consumed their futile attempts at sleep. Dean thanked Helen for her humility; he was exhausted and would never have been able to hold down his job while operating on the level of rest new parents were akin to.

He never resented Jamie for his behaviour during those weeks. He was fighting dark thoughts, paranoia, and nightmares. All Dean could do was protect him physically. So he did. Every night throughout the rest of the summer. Jamie would wake, oblivious to his nightly outbursts. Dean quickly learnt a way to soothe him. Gently pressing his weight over him, anchoring him in the bed, breathing into his neck, maybe subconsciously, in what felt like the depths of despair at night, Jamie knew Dean was with him. Dean would whisper and stroke his head, “Trouble, I’m here. Big Boy is here. I’m here.” Jamie would eventually settle.

July 14th, 2021

Lee approached the room where Drew had been since his admission when a short woman with a pixie cut clasped his door before walking past him, lugging a huge nylon satchel by her side. Their eyes met, and she smiled sharply. Lee went to say something, but she was gone before anything left his mouth.

“Uh, good morning. Who was that? I know I have no right to pry given the past few years, but we’re in a relationship now, and I want to be here for you. Like I always should have been, so actually yes, I am prying.” Lee kissed Drew’s forehead, who was already giggling despite who she was. “And apparently I still make you laugh even when I'm being honest.” Lee slumped into the chair, and a waft of his woody cologne swept over Drew. He breathed in as much as he could.

“You’re so cute.”

“Not a term I've heard in years. But I'll take it. Who was she? I'm a prosecutor; I’ll revisit my line of questioning if I am not satisfied with the answer.” Lee said firmly, with what he hoped was a hint of humour.

“Lee, she's my support worker. I'm homeless. Everything I had was Christian’s property. Everything has been seized by the police. I was trapped and stupid. She's helping me find accommodation when I’m discharged.” Drew confessed while trying not to release his shame into the room like a wild beast.

Lee got up, the plastic chair’s legs groaning against the floor. Drew looked puzzled. “Why would you do that? Why would you make contact with social services after we've spoken about everything? Why?” There was hurt in Lee’s eyes.

Drew hadn’t seen this impassioned frustration in Lee before. It was endearing as well as heartbreaking. He didn’t want Lee to feel guilty about anything anymore.

“I’m not doing anything that I shouldn't. I was talking with the doctors; they have a duty to inform them. I can't help it. I can't assume people are going to or even want to help me.”

“I’m not people. I'm me. In love with you. You think I’m going to let you go recover in some shithole?”

“Uh, excuse me. One of the proposed shitholes is where my old flat was. But thanks.”

“You know what I mean. You're coming home with me. For your recovery. For… forever.” Despite their previous conversations, Lee was still a little nervous to approach the notion of ever after.

“Lee, I can't expect you to do that for me. It's very sweet. But I can't.”

“You aren't. I'm telling you. As your partner. You're coming home with me. You have a home. With me. Case closed.” Lee was firm, but the command was laced with love, and a protective crackle followed the words as they hung in the air.

“Archer QC, did you just make a joke?”

“Speculation, your honour.”

“Oh, we’re on a roll.” Drew smiled widely. “Come here.” Lee moved to his bedside and held out a hand, still stone-faced.

“Come home with me. Please? You belong in my home. Our home. And I'm ready to take us outside that home when you're ready. I'm ready. I’m done fucking around.”

Drew could have… “Come here.”

“I am.”

“No, you fucking idiot. Lie with me. I've not felt you on me in years.” Lee looked around, ever careful of others impressions. And slid onto the bed next to him. His weight made Drew give out a sigh of satisfaction. “My answer?”

“Go on.”

“Yes.” Drew smiled into Lee’s neck.

Lee jumped off the bed and jumped in the air. Drew burst into laughter. Was this Lee hiding all this time? This goofy idiot who was supercharged by happiness? The Lee he knew fought it. Let it burn, but always put it out when the flame got too wild. Drew couldn't believe his eyes, and his body prickled with that happiness he saw bounce Lee around the room. Lee came back to him.

“I’ll speak with the doctors to make sure the apartment is set up for you. You won't want for anything.”

“Lee, stop.”

“Pardon?”

“I just need rest. Nothing more. And once I’m able to figure out how, I want to contribute. This is a relationship, and given my recent history, I quite like the idea of being an equal, finally. I don’t have much; in fact, I have nothing and will be like that for some time. Are you comfortable with that? I know people will say I’m in this for a free ride, but that really isn’t the case.”

“I don’t care about what anyone says or thinks. I don’t care about what you bring financially to our relationship now or in the future. Drew, you turned me inside out, made me realise who I was, and I regret not being strong enough for you. I’m not about to throw that away over a gas bill. Plus you have a family that actually are the kindest and most wonderful people. I’m sure Jamie will show you how to deal with an Archer. He’s had ten years of experience. You have to meet Henry and Emily. They're boys. Pa and Ma.” Lee began to smile warmly at the thought of the other loves of his life.

Drew was giddy at the idea of a blossoming connection with Lee’s family. “If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am.”

“Get on top of me.”

Lee looked around before moving to Drew again. He didn’t need coaxing this time. He pushed himself delicately. Drew pressed his palm up against his crotch. “What are you…”

“Fuck. I missed this.” Drew plunged his hand into Lee’s trousers. Pulling and clawing at the hot thickness once again. The feel of coarse hair, that supple skin, and wetness. He tugged and tugged.

“Drew, you’re going to make me… shit. Someone might… fuck, keep going. Keep going. I’m gonna…” Lee squirmed, suspended in terror and ecstasy. He wanted Drew to stop, but stopping him meant him stopping this feeling he hadn't felt in years. An electricity snapping inside him. Sparks clashed with his insides until he released.

“Something to keep you going until I can look after you properly. At home.” Drew kissed his lips. Lee looked down, shook, incredulous. But very satisfied.

He got up and cleared his throat, rushing to zip up his fly. “Something, uh, I better get myself… I’ll be back later. Yeah. Love you. Bye.” Lee was gone.

Before, Drew would have been worried he’d gone too far, but this new Lee seemed curious to push his spontaneity. Drew giggled as much as his wound would allow and smiled for the rest of the day until Lee returned.

By the end of June, Helen Goldsmith arrived at Plutus in Canada Square to put a self-proclaimed champion racehorse out of its misery. Becoming lame in recent weeks.

Hugo knew this moment would come. Sooner or later. His ego had failed him in recent weeks. Finally making him see clearly that his actions, or lack thereof, put Plutus and its reputation in jeopardy. Dean exposed his weakness but only in an attempt to protect their business.

He wasn’t expecting Helen to knock at his door. He smiled slowly as she delivered the news that the board could no longer lend their confidence to him given recent events. Press interest, regulators hammering the door, and police investigations meant the press office was on a war footing. Thankfully, investors were not deterred by the scandal. But in finance, it was absolutely necessary to remove the sources of fire before they caught ablaze.

He’d be stepping down voluntarily and able to retire quietly. He knew it was the end of the road. He’d never admit it vocally, but he knew when Dean burst into the emergency boardroom meeting that day, his days were numbered.

The most profound words Helen had for him before leaving were those that he’d heard ten years before while sharing a cheap cigarette on the fire escape of a members club in the city. “You know, Hugo, you’re a good man, but you’re only as powerful as your army allows you to be. You may be at the helm of this organisation, but you need to remind yourself every day that every single employee under you allows your role to exist. Not the other way round. They stopped trusting you.”

Hugo continued to nod slowly and smile. “I heard those very words years ago. From someone I should have given more credit to.”

“Hugo, you’re a good man, but we can’t ignore the events of recent weeks. No one is blaming you for everything that has unfolded, of course not, but the attempt by Gould exposed an absolute division between you and your senior team. You didn’t see any reason to suspect Hewitt of anything improper, as far as having an affair with him, as you admitted. Perhaps that clouded judgement, too. You let your greed dwarf your actual responsibility as a leader while thinking you were untouchable. Whoever it was who gave you that wisdom all those years ago, you should have perhaps given them that credit.”

“I can’t argue with a single word. Helen, I’m done.”

“You know I think a lot of you, Hugo, but there is too much at stake for too many to sit back and watch. The board has to act, and I wouldn’t be the steward of this business my grandfather asked me to be all those years ago if I sat back and did nothing. We’ll advise division heads of the resignation. A new CEO will be sought in the coming weeks. Go, enjoy life. You let this place poison you.”

Helen left shortly after, and Hugo found himself frantically clearing his desk with a huge smile.

Nestled in the back of her Rolls Royce, burbling away from Canada Square, Helen made a phone call.

Half an hour later Dean dropped his phone on the coffee table. Gawking.

“Babe? Are you ok? You’ve got that look. That panic attack imminent look. One sec, let me grab some water…” Jamie went to get up, but his arm was pulled back to the sofa, and Dean was on him. Kissing him deeply and silently. Jamie pushed away as much as he could. “This is good news, I assume? Will you fucking talk?” He slapped his back.

“Sorry. I just needed that.” He leaned back, still holding Jamie’s hand with a goofy smile on his face. “Uh yeah, it’s good news. That was Helen Goldsmith. Chair of the board. Hugo has resigned, and she’s putting me forward to assume the position of CEO. Pending board and possible shareholder approval.” Dean was always so restrained, even with news of this magnitude. It was up to Jamie to make him realise how huge a deal it was. He didn’t disappoint, even in his delicate state.

Jamie pushed him to the sofa. Squeezing his face. “I’m so proud of you. They’d be crazy not to approve you. You’re brilliant and kind. A natural leader. You’ve got my full support. I wish we had this news when I was better because I’d be racing to that balcony door to scream to the city how proud I am.” He kissed him delicately.

“I’m going to need your support, and I know I won’t even have to ask for it. Thank you for believing in me even when I doubt myself. I think I would have protested against the recommendation if I wasn’t with you. I just know I can tackle anything when you’re here.” They kissed some more and fell into a shocked silence, stealing glances at each other throughout a lazy afternoon and giggling at the monumental news. They’d wait to find out if their lives were about to change again.

Jamie’s night terrors continued. Becoming a little more infrequent, Dean made sure to celebrate their little wins in Jamie’s recovery. Simple gestures were once again sweet and exciting. A pastry on the bedside cabinet for when Jamie woke in the mornings following a more peaceful night. He’d smile softly. An unspoken language of absolute support and encouragement.

Jamie couldn’t commit to any work in the weeks that followed the abduction, and his weakness meant he had to reluctantly sit back and let Dean recite back emails and messages from his talent manager, Dale Rawlings. His enquiries were becoming increasingly frantic. “You know, the whole point of being some kind of social media star is that it’s kind of pay as you go. Post, get paid. They get a cut. Although I'm not really sure what it is they actually do for me. Tell him to give me space. Everyone else has. Even my beautiful team at the agency has practically told me to get lost until I’m ready. The board at Rainbow Roads, too. Funny how those who see you and not a pay cheque are the kindest.” Jamie giggled in bed one morning.

“I like your style, Trouble. I’ll go back to him and tell him to cool off.” Dean assured him. As he always did. What Jamie didn’t see was the meticulous effort with which Dean kept all these plates spinning. He was diplomatic as possible with Dale and grateful to the agency and the charity. Jamie was right, but Dean made sure Jamie could slip seamlessly back into his life when he was ready. “Dale, he’s not ready. Give him time. I won’t have him pestered. What he’s been through was huge and terrifying.”

“I understand that, but we have collaborators queuing up to work with him.”

“Dale, I don’t care. May I remind you that he’s a free agent and can easily put out a statement and name names of these so-called collaborators and shame them if he isn’t left alone to get well? I’m sure none of you want a public fallout. It wouldn’t hurt Jamie’s image. Just yours and theirs. People engage with Jamie as a person, not the products and brands he’s asked to promote; everyone will be very well reminded of that. You’ll all have to wait. That’s the bottom line. I’m more protective over him than I normally am at the moment, and I’ll make no excuses for that. If that’s a problem, you can all fucking sue me.” Dean hung up and huffed. Jamie snuck an ear to the conversation. Absolutely. Completely and utterly magnificent.

Dale was not a bad person but regularly failed to read a situation and persisted like a snappy lapdog. Dean shutting him down would only keep him at bay for a short while. Jamie was convinced Dale just riled Dean up because he enjoyed Dean talking at him with authority. He was a small, pudgy man, more camp than any drag queen he’d ever met. He was sarcastic and full of disdain, but there was a desperation in him that Jamie couldn’t help but feel sorry for. He knew he’d be on the phone again soon.

Dean got to thinking of how he could take the heat out of Dale’s chasing for content to satisfy clients. He was running on empty, but he dug deep. As he always did on the pitch, on the track, at the gym, in the office, and in the playroom at Hen and Em’s, hungover on Boxing Days of previous years when George and Arthur wanted nothing more than to climb their Uncle D mountain. “Don’t apologise. I’ll do whatever it takes to support you. I have an idea; maybe it’s time to make some happiness and tongue-in-cheek moments in all this. Why don’t I create my own account?” He went into the bedroom following the heated exchange.

Jamie’s eyes went wide, and he gasped. “Oh my god, please do. I’ll be your most faithful and perverted follower.” Jamie giggled. He was generous and would happily share Dean with the world. Through an app, at least. The real thing was all his.

In the coming days, it was time for family and friends to see Jamie. Dean wasn’t gatekeeping him from them, but he was cautious to not drop all excitement and fuss in one go. Jamie wasn’t ready to go near a phone just yet, so everything from business to family and friends was channelled through Dean.

Mark and Audrey attended firstly with David and Martha. It was a subdued reunion of sniffles and long embraces. Just sheer relief that this was over. Dean found it ironic that the fathers appeared more unable to handle what had happened than anyone else. David was almost floating in the apartment in a cloud of bewilderment. Not quite believing any of it. Mark apologised profusely to everyone about his past judgement of Gordon, but no one would hear it.

He droned on and on to the point Jamie had to snap as they all sat in the living area, lined up on the sofa in their apartment. “Mark?! Please. Stop blaming yourself for this. With the greatest of respect, neither Dean nor I have the energy to carry anyone else’s feelings right now. You weren’t to know letting him walk without pressing charges would result in what happened to me. People like that are inherently evil and hide behind awfully thin justifications for their actions. Obsessions with generational wealth or whatever it was—fine, be pissed off at the way the world works, but you don’t then become a complete pathological hypocrite by living in and feeding off that world. It’s no one’s fault for his lot in life and from knowing him for all these years, he did very well anyway. Bonuses, cars, houses, and travel. The list is as long as it is decadent. He’s almost a parody of the righteous cause he thought he was fighting. So excuse me, mothers, but absolutely fuck him! The truth is, if he was being a sincere Robin Hood, he wouldn’t have needed to almost succeed in killing me to prove whatever point he was trying to prove. He’s a greedy narcissist who took kindness as weakness, and he’s where he belongs. All of them. I won’t have this subject or those involved brought up in my presence ever again. I almost lost my life and will not let them take up any more of it. And yes, when summoned to trial, I’m waiving my right to join via video link. I’m staring those bastards right in the eye.” Jamie clasped his hands to his lap and smiled at the stunned faces. “I think we need more tea?” He got up.

Dean smiled at him proudly. Mark responded by stumbling over his words; a man who commanded a multimillion-pound company was lost and incoherent. “I’m sorry, Jamie. Think no more of it. And you’re right, no more energy to those awful people.”

“Deal.” Jamie held out his hand, and Mark took it, and they shook. Jamie was stern, and Mark gulped. The room was actually terrified of him. Jamie couldn’t help it and fell into him in a hug, breaking character of sorts. “Oh, for god’s sake, Mark, you know that’s not me. Come here. I won’t have you feel bad about any of this. You have to promise me.” Jamie kissed his father-in-law on the cheek and went into the kitchen.

“You have my word, dear boy.” Everyone roared with laughter. Jamie was healing. Getting stronger and, for the first time, so absolutely sure of his place in this world that he was not going to cloud it with those who served no purpose and brought negativity and harm. He was done. Perhaps he was changed, for the better of, most importantly, himself.

Martha and Audrey rallied like they were running an army. Meals appeared out of nowhere. Tea, all manner of sweet treats, laundry. Neither Dean nor Jamie would have been surprised if they’d nipped down to the garage and serviced the cars for them. The fathers were stunned at the militant scenes before them. Women of such privilege getting absolutely stuck into caring for their pack. Jamie and Dean absolutely understood. Maybe it was gay intuition, but a strong woman was never too far away.

Ali and Jamie’s tempestuous relationship evolved following his ordeal. Dean understood that although they were complete opposites, the bond as brother and sister was unbreakable when one of them was hurting. He stayed quiet as they bonded even more. Nothing else mattered. Ali’s steely exterior warped as she dropped in over the coming days. Grabbing at both their faces to almost check they were still there, real and safe. “Don’t ever fucking scare us like that again. The pair of you. I’m warning you. You need to start behaving, you pair of shits,” she would snapped. They both hugged her more tightly. Despite the words, they were laced with love. That was just how she communicated her adoration for them. They giggled at her; eventually she’d crack and giggle through happy tears, too.

Hen and Em would attend, too. Arthur and George, now fully fledged little boys with boisterous energy, had to be restrained from jumping all over Uncle Jai. Like crazed fans seeing their idol. Uncle D happily taking the pile-ons on the living room floor for him. “Uncle Jai is better, Mama?!” George shouted to Em as they arrived.

“He is! He’s strong. Grow up to be like your uncle Jai, please.” She said, stroking Jaimie’s face. “It’s so good to see you. You know they absolutely idolise you two.”

“I’ll second that, mate. We need you two to help raise these idiots.” Henry agreed, and the three of them laughed as Dean was pinned to the floor in a pile of little socks and clambering hands.

“Can you believe this guy could be a CEO in weeks?” Jamie bit his lip at the scene in front of him. He adored the many facets of his husband. A man so loving could be so fierce in his career. Magnificent. A warmth fell over him. He knew he wanted this scene for them one day. Dean was a natural. It was beautiful to see.

Em noticed the look in his eyes and whispered. “You need to heal, but please do this one day. You’d make such amazing parents. And these two would happily be your little ones’ bodyguards. Your job doesn’t define you as a good parent, but something deeper does. A longing for it. You both have that. We know you worship these two. A little too much at times.” She teased with a wink. Jamie and Dean famously spoilt their nephews. Both of them were absolutely wrapped around the boys little pudgy fingers.

“Yeah. One day. Look at him, Em. He’s a father for sure.” Jamie almost wept.

Soon it was the turn of Jamie’s friends to visit. There were no raucous screams like the years before; it was a quiet embrace of relief. Sniffles and gasps of ‘thank god’ into each other’s shoulders. Trix and Gabby arrived with Richard in tow. Gabby assumed her mother hen role, clucking and fussing as they all sat. She chastised Richard and Trix over them prohibiting her from bringing something to eat. “You two look so small. I said I should have brought something. For the record, they said not to fuss.” Dean and Jamie were just happy to see more faces they loved.

“We have Just Eat, Deliveroo, and Uber Eats Gabs; they’re good. They’ll eat when they’re ready.” Trix assured her with blatant condescension. Jamie tried not to laugh. Hearing these interactions again was like wrapping himself up in his favourite coat.

“Did you get our flowers?” Gabby looked around.

“We did. They’re beautiful, thank you.” Jamie continued to smile.

“Need us to do anything?” Gabby pleaded for something to do for them still.

“There is one thing.” Jamie pulled Gabby and Richard aside. “Rich, this is a mercy request. That man over there needs to get away from me. Take him down the road to the Elgin, will you? Gabby, do you mind? He’s not left my side since, well, you know. He needs some man talk. Rugby banter. Whatever. He hasn’t played in the LGBT or your league in weeks. I’m totally responsible.”

“You don’t have to ask him twice to go for a pint.” Gabby teased. “Anything for you two. We can sit down and mother you anyway. I’m so happy to see you both.” Gabby couldn’t stop hugging and grabbing at her best friend.

“Mate, of course. Here he comes. Hey, D boy, we’re going out.” Richard flicked his hand in the way of the front door.

“Excuse me?” Dean stopped still. Frowning.

“Babe. You need to get away from me. If only for a couple of hours. Go. Talk rugby. Whatever. Get drunk. Please just forget about me for a minute. You deserve so much more, but I’ll take what I can get right now, and Richard is happy to oblige.”

“I, uh. Are you sure?” Dean would happily have stayed.

“It’s an order. You tell me I’m the boss, so here I am.” Jamie flung his arms up in defiance. “Go.”

“Right, ok. I’ll get my jacket.” Dean returned beaming. “Are you sure? I’m not resentful of being here with you. You know that, right?” He cupped Jamie’s chin.

“Of course, you idiot. You’ve just not played for the LGBT or London leagues in so long. Go, have some time to hang out with your people. I love you; I’m in good hands.” Jamie smiled hopelessly at him. He wondered how he got so lucky to end up with a man who struggled to be away from him for more than a minute.

“You’re the best. If you need me, get one of the girls to call me. We won’t be out late.”

They were gone. The sound of the two men talking loudly down the hall was comforting. Even though they were total menaces together. He knew Dean needed some downtime.

Jamie listened to Trix talk of imminently having a backer for her own label. Of how Gabby had been promoted to account director at her PR firm. The developments in his closest friends lives made him hot with sadness. He couldn’t even blame the abduction. All this wonderful news happened before. He knew there were whispers of both but didn’t know how far they’d come. He hadn’t been there. He began to cry.

“Babe, what's wrong?" Gabby stopped mid-conversation. They both ran to him. His cry was pained.

“Hey, dickhead, what’s going on?” Trix had known him all his life; her tough talk never stopped.

He blurted through a whisper, “I’m just sorry.”

They looked at each other, baffled.

“Why? What for, for god's sake?” Gabby stroked his head.

“I didn’t know how far you’d both come in recent months. I wasn’t present. Dean warned me when we came back to the city, and I didn’t stop to think. I’m so fucking sorry.”

They piled on and muted him in arms and hugs. Telling him not to be sorry. Their bond would take more than one of them getting a little lost to break.

Later that evening Dean returned. A little worse for wear. Dean would have bounded through the doors in years gone by and hoisted Jamie onto his shoulder for a championship all-nighter, but not tonight. He flopped on the sofa. One eye a little more closed. “Sorry, I’ve been out too late. I’m sorry.”

“Will you shut up? It’s good to see you drunk. Don’t apologise.” Jamie grabbed him into a hug. “You needed that.”

“I miss you. All of you.” Dean laid his head in Jamie’s lap. His hand creeping up Jamie’s thigh. Jamie felt himself subtly part his thighs. He could give Dean this at least.

"I miss you. I miss you screaming my name. The sweat. The pinch. My hands wrapped around your neck. My teeth on you. My tongue making you open for me.” Jamie gulped and hardened. He was always hopeless to Dean in this mood.

“Dean?” He whispered.

“Let me see you. You’re so big and shoot so much. Jaim, I even miss you in me. I know I have to wait. But am I a monster to ask you to pull it out? Let me look at it? Kiss it? Have it on my top lip?”

Jamie let Dean decide. Dean pulled his shorts back, and Jamie sprang free. The heaviness bounced against his lips. Dean gasped. He held Jamie’s shaft in his hand. So straight and thick. Jamie was smaller but still a solid opponent for Dean. He missed seeing him. He tentatively held Jamie in his hand. Subtly pulling. Jamie’s breath began to labour, and Dean frowned with longing at his work and then felt Jamie’s hand descend. He bit his lip, knowing Jamie was at his limit. But the hand grabbed his and joined the rhythm. Dean sped up, gulping, licking his lips. Jamie began to pant as the heat and surge he hadn’t felt in weeks pulsed through his body.

“Come for me, baby. Cover me.” Dean rasped. Jamie shuddered as he erupted. Covering Dean’s face. Dean let it fall all over him. Staring hard at what he’d missed. Jamie slumped over with heaves of relief.

"Dean.” Jamie scrambled to push him off. He gripped the sofa.

“Shit! I’m a fucking prick! What can I do for you? Let me get you water. Jesus, I’m such a pig!” Dean ran to grab water and bring it back. He pushed the rim of the glass to Jamie’s lips, and he drank. Delicately. Staring at the floor. Dean wiped his brow and pushed his hair out of his face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into…”

“That. Was. Hot. Yes, I’m lightheaded, but my god, that was incredible. You’ve got me all over your face. And! Don’t even think about kissing me like that. I’m not there yet either.” Jamie raised his finger to Dean’s face, giggling.

“Oh, I did good?” Dean smiled proudly.

“Yes, Big Boy. You did. Go shower; you stink of beer.” Jamie demanded. Dean got up to walk away, and Jamie grabbed his hand and kissed it. “Seriously though, I love you. You’re so wonderful to me.”

Dean knelt down to kiss him, and Jamie put his hand to his mouth. “Shower. Now. Dirty boy.”

Dean turned, and Jamie slapped his behind. It felt so good to touch and tease each other in those moments where Jamie was willing and able. These little waves were cresting, and Dean had to surf them before they crashed and disappeared again.

The following day Dean heard from Lars and Harry separately, but they arrived together. Dean opened the door, puzzled.

“Hey, both. What timing. Come in. Let me just check he’s awake. Harry and Lars grabbed him into a tight hug.

“Thank god you’re both ok.” Lars whispered.

“I’ll second that.” Harry echoed. Harry was prickled with nerves. He hadn’t set eyes on Jamie since their latest fight. He hoped Jamie was willing to forget.

Dean found it odd they hadn’t felt the need to comment on his observation. He looked on at them as they sat next to each other on the sofa.

Jamie emerged from the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, hi.” He croaked. Lars hurdled the sofa and grabbed him. “Oh my god. Thank fuck you’re ok.”

“I’m getting there. Thank you for coming to see me. Sorry, I’m not great company at the moment.” Jamie’s energy ebbed and flowed every day. He was never really sure how he’d be able to handle each new day.

“All that matters is that you’re safe and getting well.” Harry emerged with a nervous smile.

“Stepmother.” Jamie leaned into his chest. “I missed you, and I’m sorry.”

Harry squeezed him a little more tightly. “No more of it. So in the past.”

Jamie clapped his back. They went to the sofa, and Lars and Harry sat next to each other. Closer than they ever had in any previous situation. Jamie was less alert, but Dean watched their hands. They wanted to hold each other but kept flitting their hands to their laps. Almost as if they were remembering where they were.

Jamie settled by Dean. Harry and Lars looked at them both, and then, as if Dean had foreseen, their hands clasped together.

“No time like the present, right?” Harry announced, his smile wide and anxious.

“What’s going on?” Dean frowned, his smile creeping across his mouth. Jamie stared at their hands. Flat-faced.

“Uh, Lars and I are seeing each other. It’s been a few months. We didn’t know when it was best to say anything. But it felt like we should now that you are both out of harm’s way.” Harry continued. Hoping he wasn’t coming across as nervous as he felt.

“Oh wow. Congratulations!” Dean jumped up and hugged them both. “Two of the best people, I love this!”

Jamie was frozen; he thawed momentarily to snap at Lars. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Jamie didn’t give Lars a moment to reply and marched, more slowly than he had in any of their previous imminent intense conversations, and went into his and Dean’s bedroom. He sat carefully on the chair opposite. “Close the door.”

Harry looked at Dean for some form of explanation. “Leave them to it for a moment. Believe me.” Dean tapped his shoulder with reassurance and possibly some humorous commiseration.

Lars swallowed hard and frowned. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me? How long has this been going on for?” Jamie snapped again.

“About four months.” Lars smiled at the ability to state at the fact.

“And you never thought to tell me? Christ, Lars, this is really awkward. He’s like a brother-in-law to me. And you’re family practically.”

“You two fall out all the time. It never seems awkward?”

“It’s different. I’m married to his best friend. I can’t believe you haven’t told me. I feel like I’ve been ambushed into giving my approval.”

Anger at Jamie’s audacity boiled over. “What the fuck are you talking about? Have you heard yourself? Jamie, I couldn’t tell you. Your head was so far up your own arse with all your fashion work you forgot about us. The three of your closest friends. The girls won’t say anything, but you practically ghosted us since you came back to the city. I hate the timing of this, but yes, we’ve been seeing each other, and I feel so much for him. He’s the first person to treat me with respect.” Lars stopped talking for a moment. Like he was stopping himself from crying. “I feel sexy and confident with him. I’ve never had that. And as much as your approval would be amazing, it wouldn’t change anything if I didn’t have it.” He said timidly.

Jamie grabbed his hand and slumped in front of him. He pressed a finger against Lars’ lip. “What?” Lars whispered.

“So, I’ve been an arsehole then?” Jamie flashed a grin across his face. Everyone was powerless against it.

“Maybe a little before this all happened. I miss you, and I nearly lost you. You have a brother-in-law in him, but you have a brother in me. Remember that.” Lars playfully pulled Jamie’s fringe over his face.

“That’s pretty confusing, and I’m sure almost incestuous, but I take your point, little one. I’m sorry. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

“You are?” Lars almost jumped.

“I am. I’m sorry. When I saw you both like that as you sat down, I think I realised how much I’d pushed everyone away. I was projecting. And for the record, you’re the only person who can get me on my knees apologising after being abducted and drugged. Do not drag this out. Also, can you, uh, help me up actually? I feel a little lightheaded.”

“Easy. Easy. Look, apology accepted, and think nothing else of it. I’m so happy you’re safe and Dean is looking after you. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Their hands gripped tightly.

“He’s a keeper for sure. Listen. I know you’re a beautiful person, but will you do me a huge favour? Look after Harry. We fight like cats and dogs, but that big hunk of love is fragile. Beyond the charisma, the success, and the movie star looks is a little boy who was never accepted by his family. We’re that for him now.”

“You don’t have to worry. Of course I will. I love how much you care for him. I promise.” Lars brushed Jamie’s nose.

“And don’t worry. If he hurts you, and who could? That’s strictly my department. I’ll kick his ass. And Dean’s. But I will say, Dean worships the ground you walk on, so he’s not a problem and is probably warning Harry to look after you too.” Jamie admitted.

“Jealous?” Lars snapped playfully.

“Aww, no, baby. I get to fuck Dean when I want and have full use of the Archer Bentley Mulsane. I’m good. He may worship you, but he’s obsessed with me.” Jamie tapped his hand deliberately patronisingly. “But, I know you’ll look after Harry. You’re perfect, so I know he’s in safe hands.”

“I’ve got three great men in you guys. I’m so lucky. I’m not perfect, but I’ve landed three of the best.” Lars never believed he was worthy of the company he kept.

“There you go again. We’re lucky to have you. Now let’s get back to those two.” Jamie shut his inadequacy down.

“Just be good to him, H. That’s all I’m saying.” Dean finished just as Jamie and Lars emerged. Jamie leaned against Dean, and Lars did the same against Harry. They met each other’s eyes, and Jamie simply smiled. Basking in the happiness that was filling the kitchen. It was new, a little awkward to fit into, but like his favourite Prada loafers, give it time and it will fit perfectly.

September

In early September Jamie was napping, and as Dean was walking into the bedroom, his phone buzzed.

“Shit.” He spun round and answered. “Jerry? Hey. How are you?”

“Oh, hello, handsome. I hope I haven’t intruded. I know you’re round the clock at the moment, but I need to talk. I know our boy is recovering, and I hate to add anything else to what’s probably an already massive lis…”

“Shit. The ten year anniversary. I, I mean we hadn’t forgotten. Jamie was due to open the event wasn’t he?” Dean clasped his hand to his head as he closed the bedroom door quietly. He silently breathed out. Yes it was something else. Something else Jamie couldn’t do right now. Dean realised just how incendiary Jamie’s commitments were. One huge thing after the other. In his own line of work there was a whole alphabet of back up plans let alone Plan  A or Plan B. In Jamie’s world it was only Plan J. And that was it. All or nothing. It was technically the point of a lot of what Jamie did but it left no room for back up. Dean’s respect for his work ethic only grew as his own energy was being chipped away. As he’d done since that day, he closed his eyes, saw Jamie’s smile, gritted his teeth, dug deep and heaved whatever it was onto his back. He had to hold up Jamie’s sky after all.

“I know. He’s emailed a few times which has been a huge comfort. Being able to let our little community know what’s going on, ignoring the press. He’s been so supportive of the board when all everyone tells him there is no need.”

Dean realised that things would be so much easier if Jamie would just get a new phone but he had no interest. Like the mere notion of a phone was a portal to what happened again. Something else he shoved deep down along with his exhaustion. He never let this sour into resentment. It was his duty.

“He’s a soldier that’s for sure. Look, him opening with his speech maybe even attending is out of the question. I’ll be honest Jer, I’m not even going to ask him. But…” Dean couldn’t believe what he was about to suggest. “I’m not him. I never will be. I’m not beautiful and charismatic, I’m muscle and practicality but maybe I could do it? For him. For the charity?” Dean began to warm to the idea. “In fact, I’d be honoured to do it.”

“Dean, babe you have so much on your plate. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to put you on the spot.”

“You’re not. You’re giving me an opportunity. We were in a rough place before this whole thing and both of us taking more time for our lives away from each other was a promise we made. This is a start. And you know you the charity and the community around it mean a lot to me too.”

“Oh bloody hell. Trust him to marry such a deep soul. Are you sure?” Jerry squealed.

“He taught me to be who I am. I’m sure because I need to do this for him.” Dean had made up his mind.

“Well if you’re sure. Yes you’re muscle and practicality but you’re beautiful and charismatic, too. Maybe not as much as our boy but…”

“Jer?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Aaand he’s back! Ok, just tell me how long you need so we can order everything after you. We’ll touch base about detail closer to the time. If anything changes or Jamie objects just tell me. Love you, Big Boy.”

“You too, Miss Divine.”

Dean was on a roll, his new curiosity to explore Jamie’s world led him to download the Instagram app finally. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll get back to it eventually. But thank you for fending off Dale for a little while.”

“Maybe it could be fun? I’m not going to be on there much but maybe this is a way of being involved.”

“Don’t make it about me. Dean, you’re so handsome and have so much to offer people. You can share your work out plans, your love of food and travel. Fuck, you could just post a photo of that face and knickers and boxer elastic would ping all over the world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I’m so sorry. You’re every closeted school boy and dreaming girls fantasy. Dean you’re a complete sex god. Get used to it. Now, the DMs.” Jamie teased.

“Sex god? Are you serious? I’m not, I’m boring. And what the hell do you mean DMs?” Dean said shyly. Jamie loved his complete obliviousness to his beauty. As he’d written about in his journal. The words swirled in front of him.

“People will know you’re my husband and once they know you have an instagram you’ll have all sorts of naughty messages and it’s fine. Just don’t think anything of it.” Jamie hoped he sounded reassuring.

“Have you had them?”

“Oh yeah. They’re so ridiculous.” Jamie brushed them off with a wave.

“Like what?”

“Oh loads of people telling me what they’d do with me. Fuck me. Gangbang me. Gag me. The list goes… Dean are you getting turned on by this?” Jamie giggled as he looked down and saw Dean’s hand creeping toward his crotch.

“Uh, it’s kinda grosse but yeah. For the record, no one will get close to you but fuck.” Dean went ahead and grabbed his hardness and growled.

Jamie bit his lip and got right into Dean’s ear. “Pull your cock out, Big Boy.”

Dean frowned with want and peeled his shorts down. His cock firm and angry.

“I can’t give you me right now like I said, but I want to see you. Cum for me.”

Jamie looked on, salivating as Dean craned his neck back and pulled harder and faster before erupting all over his stomach.

“Wow. I missed you.” Jamie kissed his cheek.

“I can’t wait to be with you again, but if I have to wait, I have to wait.” Dean covered himself back up and bit his lip, too. Just the thought of Jamie riding him was enough to make him roar.

They calmed down and decided on a handle for Dean and he made his first post. A simple photo of their hands, held together on Dean’s lap. “Say what you want. I’m so excited you’re joining the cesspit that is social media. And my talent manager will be too.” Jamie giggled.

“I’m doing this for you. Until you’re able to get yourself back into all this.”

“Thank you. Ok, what are you going to caption this one then?”

Dean thought for a moment and then his eyes widened. Jamie smiled and brushed his head.

DeanAA: I’ve finally caved to my husband’s and apparently his followers demands so here I am. Hello Instagram.

You may have heard in the media about Jamie’s recent ordeal but I’m here to tell you he’s recovering, surrounded by love and support and has been passed on messages by everyone concerned, we both thank you.

While I get to grips with this app, it will take time for Jamie to recover and be back to what he loves most; style, his charity work, The Arden Agency and of course engaging with everyone here.

I’m happy to be his support act until he returns.

One last thing, Jamie mentioned something about thirst traps being a must on my page…?

Jamie put his hand to his mouth in shock. “Oh baby are you already beginning to get a little comfortable?”

“Babe, I write cyber security code, you don’t think I know what a thirst trap is? I’m fully aware of the lingo.”

They laughed together. “But, thank you. You’re the best.”

“For you. Only.” He brushed Jamie’s nose as the notifications of follows, DMs, comments and reactions blew up his screen.

They looked at the comments and were warmed by the support and giggled at the excitement at Dean’s arrival.

@CALVINKLIEN get this beautiful man a campaign.

FUCK CHRISTMAS DAY, THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!

Sending love to you both. Stay strong.

The road to recovery is slow. Take your time both.

Too soon to ask for an OnlyFans?

The last comment came through from a certain MrHJ. An award winning producer to most but a best friend to them. It instantly racked up a thousand likes.

They laughed. After it all, Dean cherished this silly moment. They were themselves again. He grabbed onto the moments where Jamie was happy and present, among the flatness, the staring into space, the jitters and night terrors. He hoped with every second that Jamie could get past this. He might be changed the other side but this broken person was tough to watch.

September 15th, 2021

The morning arrived for the Rainbow Roads Tenth Anniversary event and Dean paced the kitchen. He was nervous to carry out what he knew Jamie would have been up all night excited about. It wasn’t the fact he had to speak on his behalf, it was the weight the speech brought with it. Delivering the speech for him was a stark reminder of how much of a toll the abduction had taken on Jamie. He was resolved to the idea that Jamie may well be changed forever or at least this recovery would be a marathon. One of patience and complete compassion. No sprint.

He was looking out the window of the kitchen when he heard foot steps behind him. “Is there coffee going? I’d like some. Fully charged with caffeine. I can’t handle decaf crap anymore. God, I don’t know what’s worse. Being sworn off any stimulants for weeks or that thing that happened.” Jamie giggled, rubbing the back of his head. He refused to refer to the events of late June as anything other than ‘what happened.’ To define it, gave it a presence and he’d rather put it behind him.

Dean swung round. Jamie was topless in Dean’s pyjamas. The sight was thirst quenching after draught. There was a cheeky glint in Jamie’s eyes. Maybe he was almost back. Dean bit his lip and went to him. He cupped Jamie’s behind in his hands, squeezing hard. This time Jamie let his purposeful hands explore. Hard and tight on his skin. He encouraged, wrapping his legs around Dean as he plopped him onto the island.

Dean whispered as their heads fell together in breaths that screamed the wait was almost over, “you got up by yourself? Babe, that’s so good.”

“Know what else?” Jamie whispered into Dean’s ear, then bit his lobe. Dean shoved his crotch against the cabinets and pulled Jamie’s thighs apart firmly.

“Tell me.”

“I’m aching for you. I’m almost ready. I’ll know when but I can’t wait much longer. Dean, you’re so hard already.” Jamie clenched his legs around Dean’s behind. “I’ve missed you.” He kissed his neck. “You’ve been a soldier for me these past few months. You need a reward. Do you want my hands on you?” His lips slipped to meet Dean’s. “Huh?” He bit on Dean’s bottom lip before running his nose over his.

“I’ll do it all over again to get you well.” Dean pressed his forehead against Jamie’s. “Touch me all you want.” They pushed against each other. Their old ways busting through the delicate pretence Jamie was completely tired of now. “Of fucking course I want your hands on me. I want all of you on me. Babe, please.”

Jamie held his lips in his as he pulled Dean’ shaft slowly but tightly. He quickened his pace to Dean’s increasingly frantic breath. “Babe, keep going. You’ll make me cum now.” He blurted, Jamie slapped his hand to Dean’s mouth.

“Don’t speak. I’m in control now. You’re mine again.” Dean’s eyes rolled and he frowned knowing what was coming next. “Come on Big Boy, give me what I want.” Jamie sped up, slipping his left forearm tightly around Dean’s neck. Muffled breaths and useless words burning into Jamie’s chest as he ruptured up Jamie’s arm. “Good boy.” Jamie returned to tenderness. Kissing his temple. “That was a lot babe. I’m proud of you."

Dean leaned against him, panting. “Shit. That was worth the wait. Fuck.” Dean leant forward for another kiss through gasps.

Jamie growled through a grin, breaking the kiss. Slapping Dean’s behind, hard enough that Dean almost yelped. “Do me proud tonight. I know you will and I’m so sorry I’m not up to it yet. I don’t want to let everyone down.”

“Are you really getting me to comfort you with my dick hanging out?” Dean asked with a chuckle.

“Of course. That’s your job. Making me feel good with your dick hanging out.” Jamie played at being serious.

“Alright. Alright. You won’t be letting anyone down. Everyone understands.”

“Ok. Seriously though. Thank you. Dealing with all this with an already busy brain is exhausting.” Jamie grabbed his head.

Dean put himself away and grabbed at Jamie’s hands. Tapping his forehead. “I know it gets busy in there but if you can hear this, you’re not alone in this. Don’t struggle. They haven’t won. You’re safe. And happy. I hope.”

“Haven’t they?”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m in here, shunning life, and giving my husband a handjob over our kitchen counter is the height of my sexual spontaneity? I haven’t rejoined the world in any way and it’s been over two months.” Jamie began to wipe his eye.

Dean sobered following Jamie’s self proclaimed and much welcomed sexual spontaneity. “You have to be patient with yourself. We’re home. You’re getting better. Your sleep is less disrupted. You’ve met friends and family. Given me a hand job.” Dean pushed his fist against Jamie’s chin in a tease.

“When will I know I’m ready to get back out there again? To the world? Give you more than a fucking hand job.”

“Everything you’ve gotten to since being discharged has happened quietly. When you’ve not been focussing on it or waiting for it to happen. I know you. You’ll absolutely know and that fire in your belly will burn again. I promise.”

Jamie smiled at him again. He wanted to believe.

That afternoon, Lee was being shifty. He checked on Drew who was dazing in front of the TV. Setting up his new phone that Lee purchased for him.

“Ok, you have the address for later? Message me when outside and I’ll meet you… Great. See you then.” Lee hung up and quickly rejoined Drew on the sofa. Wrapping his arm around him and kissing his head. He never tired of the velvety crunch of his crew cut against his lips.

“Archer QC, what are you up to?”

“Excuse me?”

“Quiet phone calls. Running back in here?” Drew giggled while flicking through his new phone. “I’m kidding.”

“Nothing. Dean needed some support on his speech for later that’s all.” He hated lying but it was only for a few hours. “Are you ok? I thought you’d like to reconnect with the art community so the phone was a good way of…”

Drew pushed a finger to Lee’s lips. “Quiet. It’s brilliant and thank you. No I’ve just had to get a new number and my iCloud is disabled. I’ve lost all my photos. Apps access. All gone. I know we’ll have new photos but I won’t with Stevie. I can’t expect her to want to know me anymore.” Drew missed his one true friend. He felt guilty because Lee was doing everything he could for him. “Sorry. I sound ungrateful.”

“My turn to tell yo to be quiet. Give yourself a little credit here. You’ve been through something terrible and you’re out the other side now. Drew, this isn’t a sprint. It’ll take time. I’m sure she’s heard or read about what’s happened and will understand. You may think you’re a hardened streetwise guy but there’s a kind softness to you too. She’ll know that.” Lee fought back a laugh. He’d meet her again sooner than Drew thought.

That evening.

“Oh you look so good. Come here.” Jamie ran his hands over Dean’s shoulders. The black shirt peeping from under the charcoal suit. Magnificent.

“Are you ok here by yourself? Really?”

“Babe, you’ve got me under lock and key. I feel better. I have a phone again, I think my talent manager sending me one was a subtle hint. I’ll call if I need anything. But I’ll be fine. I’ve got some books and a lovely Pelegrino to keep me going. Aren’t I wild?” Jamie rolled his eyes in self pity.

“Hey. Don’t talk like that. You’re fucking amazing. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll do you proud. I’ve asked Harry to record it for me. You can watch it back tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jamie said happy but still flat.

Dean grabbed his chin. “I love you. Gotta go.” One more kiss and he was gone. Jamie ran his hand over the Paris ashtray where Dean had just grabbed his keys and up at the painting they’d bought on that first trip.

“Paris.” He whispered to himself.

Dean arrived. The event would mark ten years of the charity and Jamie was due to give an opening speech before the celebrations began. Jamie took inspiration with Jerry from Ball Room. The evening was an owd to the culture that underpinned their world as it was now. Where those with resources and connection blended with those in absolute need, in a celebration of individuality, courage, art, a family. None of these things needed money to be celebrated. The acts; the dancers, the poets, singers, drag artists, all of them absolute masters of their craft, mainstream media and cooperations were shunned in favour of fringe newspapers and magazines, independent influencers and creatives. Charged with spreading the word of the good the charity was doing. Jamie was the master of orchestrating grass roots creativity and protest and getting it out into the world without their self aggrandising support.

As Dean arrived the pop up bar was lined with faces they’d loved for years. Lee and Drew chatted quietly. “You came.” Dean grabbed them both.

“Of course. We have to show our support.” Lee beamed.

“For both of you.” Drew added as he pecked Dean on the cheek.

“That means a lot. I hope I do him proud.”

“No doubt you will. You’ve got us all behind you.” Lee pointed and Drew gave way to a sea of faces. Everyone they held near and dear in the city. Gabby, Richard, Trix, Harry, Lars, Peter had arrived with Sally and Joey.

His chest inflated. He was ready. With that, he heard the heavy snap of beads and the clang of jewellery. He turned to see Jerry, now Miss Divine. Jerry’s taloned hand came to his embellished chest, covered in anthracite. Emotional. “Thank you for doing this for us. You’re a wonderful man.” She bent to kiss him. Easily towering over everyone in huge heels and a wig of Antoinette curls.

“Let’s hit it!” Dean clapped his hands and everyone laughed.

“What am I doing?” Jamie put his book down. He’d said to Dean that he was still hiding. It wasn’t that he felt a failure for still not feeling he could step out into the world by himself yet, but he was angry that the events of that June were dictating his decisions. Moving loved ones into positions they shouldn’t. He got up.

“You ready, Sport?” Harry gave him a whiskey to settle his nerves.

“Thanks, mate. I need that. Look, when I get up there, will you just keep an eye on my phone in case Jamie calls?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you for being here. Both of you.  We’re really happy for you.”

Lars and Harry smiled at the floor. Still not quite able to believe they were now public and despite Jamie’s initial reaction, had been their biggest cheerleader ever since. His WhatsApp chat with Lars was rammed with holiday suggestions for the four of them when he was up to it.

Hmmm, what to wear to a charity event?” Jamie ran his hands over the racks of clothes. He missed them. His style was his armour but an extension of who he was, too. Every piece had a story to tell. Then he noticed a jacket. One that was so special, so wrapped up in a time when he felt like he could take on the world, because Dean was absolutely by his side. “Hello old friend.” Jamie grinned. A time when he really did believe in their perfect. Before they tried to unpick the intricate stitching and fit into everyone else’s version of perfect.

“Ready to go in about thirty minutes? I’ll introduce you.” Jerry asked from his tower of beading and curls.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I can’t beelive he had to miss this. His work. His love of everything and everyone here.”

Jerry cupped his cheek. “It’s a tragedy, but it’s almost as if our community has to have some tragedy when celebrating. One can’t exist without the other as far as we’re concerned. So, we grab at the energy we can and march on.” Jerry stood to attention, as much as his heels would allow.

Dean was reassured by the words but they weren’t Troubles. Words that bewitched him, words he’d hang on every syllable of, smile in awe at hearing the way Jamie described his world. Words that should be filling the microphone on the stage he was about to step onto.

Jamie pulled on the McQueen Dean bought him in New York. Like Dean said, tailoring had to fit. It still did. No need for adjustment. Dean told him that he’ll be ready to go back out into the world when that fire burned in his belly again. With every arm into a sleeve, leg into a trouser, spray of his layering of colognes, adjustment of his hair, Jamie could feel himself coming back to life. The burning began.

He stepped out of the apartment gingerly to begin with but each stride got faster and faster. He hailed a cab and sighed with his little achievement. “No way is he going to do this alone,” he whispered to himself. He opened Instagram and beamed at the flurry of messages since he’d been off grid.

Dean’s phone buzzed in Harry’s hand. A doorbell notification. He giggled to himself at the sight of Jamie leaving the apartment.

“What is it?” Lars pulled on his arm.

“Oh nothing. I’m just happy.”

Lars kissed his cheek. “Get ready to record.”

“Good evening everyone. I must start by apologising. I know I’m the understudy for the main star this evening but please join me in sending all our love to my husband, Trouble. As everyone will know, he’s been through so much in recent months and uh…” Dean’s voice broke. He felt Jerry’s hand on his shoulder.

Was this the moment he’d give up? Admit he was finally exhausted or was this time to give that last ember of energy to something Jamie adored. Demonstrate his commitment to his promise to involve himself in Jamie’s world. He focussed.

“I’m ok. Thank you. Sorry everyone, Jamie would stand here if he could. He’d take no credit and share in the success of the charity, the finding of this brilliant place to support those less fortunate. He’s one of a kind. He takes his own success and uses it for good. LGBT charities have long struggled for funding and resources but through Jamie’s tireless advocacy and innovation, along with the team here, something truly special has been created. Rainbow Roads goes into a new decade with a home, a fearless patron and a community surrounding it that won’t let it fall. I….” Dean stopped and gawped at the doors at the back of the room. There he was. His fire had returned. There was his beacon. Shining bright again. “Jamie?”

The crowd turned to follow his stare. Everyone gasped and began to trickle into applause and cheers.

Jamie froze a moment. A smile threating to split his face and tears making his vision almost useless but he followed the spotlight to the stage and the only hand he needed to hold was out, ready to catch him.

“You came? I love you. I’m so proud of you.” Dean whispered in his ear trying not to burst into tears of awe.

“I wasn’t going to let you to this alone. I got my fire back and I won’t let them win. I’ll take it from here.” Jamie kissed his cheek and turned to the lectern. Everyone cheered, Harry wolf whistled as usual, not before Lars elbowed him to calm down.

Dean took a step back. He looked on at Jamie. The way he commanded the stage. Left hand on the lectern, the right,  free for emphasis and conduction. His shoulders, slanted in a confidence Dean could never quite grasp.

“Oh my gosh. I really should get better at my time keeping. Thank you to my warm up act. Dean, I love you.” The crowd laughed and gave out affectionate groans.

“I’m terribly sorry I nearly missed our special night. Last minute I decided that if I were to stay inside and shy away, then those who orchestrated what happened to me will still have won. That’s the thing about survival, it’s what you do with your life after something you have to overcome and heal from, that matters. Only those who’ve been through something that went straight to the core of who you are will truly understand. I am changed. Not for the worst, for the better. I belong here. I’m loved and I’m counted on. You can continue to count on me. Everyone. This wonderful charity, its courageous users, my family, friends and colleagues. I disappeared for a little while and I was lost before that, too. But I think about our charity and those who use our services. You overcome despair, pick yourselves up and start again. We should all admire you, you should admire each other. I’ve come to realise it’s a privilege to go through life trying on different styles of who we are, we need to remember that. Some of us get to adjust and choose, some of us have to force and squeeze ourselves into what we’re dealt. There’s absolute strength in making a life out of what you can. No matter how small.”

Jamie’s words filled the room, addictive and infectious for everyone listening. Claps, cheers and roars followed.

“I’m not shocked we are celebrating ten years of this wonderful organisation. It’s testament to the commitment of those who guide it and those who need it. But it is more than that. It’s a community, a family. Far too many of us have experienced backs that have turned on us and finding our way in this at times, unforgiving city, on our own. We’re not alone anymore. Not myself, I do understand I talk from a place of privilege, but there’s more to understanding privilege. How you use it and what you learn in return from those who have been supported by it. I’ve learnt of strength and happiness from our service users. I’ve learnt of how our experience can make beautiful art. Whether it be dance, poetry, painting. The list goes on. You’re an inspiration to those who support you. We know there are those who cannot be here this evening and those who are no longer here, sometimes the lowest point is just too much for some of us and we turn to things to make pain and feelings of self loathing go away. I’m not here to judge. We’re human and we’re beautiful. We’re complex. We’re fragile but we’re also strong. We need to look after those in their moment of fragility and remind them of how strong they can be.”

The room was stunned not only with the fact Jamie had arrived but by the effortless grace with which he spoke.

“We don’t just celebrate ten years of Rainbow Roads tonight, we celebrate the lives it’s touched. On a personal note, everyone in this room and a few who aren’t, gave me the strength and courage to push passed what happened to me. I’m a wiser, happier, more content person than I ever have been. I’ll leave you all to enjoy the rest of the evening. Eat as much as you can, drink if you want to, but be happy. There’s happiness in everything, somewhere, we just need to find it and not let it go. Thank you everyone. I love you all.”

Jamie beamed his smile across the room one last time before he turned and fell into Dean. “That was so beautiful. I love you, Trouble.”

“I knew I couldn’t let you do this alone. But I adore the fact you were prepared too. I found the best when I met you. Dean, I’m sorry how things turned out when we got back to the city. I got a little lost but I’m coming out of this feeling a new sense of who I am and that’s because of you.”

“You did all the hard work, babe. Don’t change too much, I still want to see my Wild Boy every now and then.”

Jamie snapped his face up from his chest and wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh he’ll never be too far away.”

They kissed and made their way down from the stage.

Drew was still leaning at the bar as Lee knew it was time. “Drew, can I introduce you to someone?” Lee tapped his shoulder.

Drew spun round. “I’ll leave you both catch up.” Lee walked off in the direction of Jamie and Dean.

“Oh my god!” Drew wrapped Stevie in a desperate hug. His hands shifting over her shoulders just to make sure she was actually in front of him. “I never thought I’d get to see you again. Stevie I’m so sorry I was…”

“Hey! Stop. You were in an awful position, let’s not waste time on that awful man, and introduce me to this new family of yours.” Stevie stood him back to take him in. He smiled at her giddily. “My boy is finally getting what he deserves. I’m so proud of you, kid.”

“How did this even happen?”

“Let’s just put it this way. That gorgeous man of yours over there? He was pretty relentless in tracking me down and telling me the truth of what happened to you. You have a good one, babe. Finally!”

Drew’s eyes went straight to Lee who was talking animatedly to Dean and Jamie. He ran his finger over his lip. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Stevie nodded in encouragement and he ran up behind Lee and grabbed him. “Thank you. I love you.” He nuzzled into Lee’s shoulder before running back Stevie.

Jamie and Dean looked at him with warm eyes. “I think he’s a little bit into you.” Jamie winked at him.

“Hope so.” Lee sighed with happiness.

The night continued into a carnival of music, dance, colour and despite the backgrounds of those in need of the charity in stark contrast to those who supported it, everyone was an equal. A rich mix of walks of life.

“I really want a glass of champagne.” Jamie announced. Dean jumped up.

“Your wish is my command my King.”

“I think I want one too.” Drew added enthusiastically.

“Uh, are you sure?” Lee held his arm.

“I never drank because of how it made my old world appear to me. My new world, with you guys is fucking brilliant and I want to see what it’s like. I’m happy and safe, finally. Let me enjoy.”

“Coming up!” Lee kissed him and left with Dean.

Jamie and Drew’s eyes fell on each other. “So happy you made it.”

“I just needed to shove the worry out of the way. I mean, you’ve continued to fight, get on with it. You inspire me, Drew. I’m so happy you’re with Lee. I can’t wait to see your work being lapped up by critics and collectors.”

“I’m sure I don’t. But I’m flattered nonetheless. And you really think so?”

“You’re having more of an impact on people than you think.” Jamie winked as Lee and Dean returned.

Soon their table was overflowing with the faces of everyone they adored. They never felt stronger.

Gloria Gaynor’s I am What I Am crept over the makeshift dance floor. Dean felt Jamie inhale. He hadn’t danced in months.

“I love this song. I can relate to every single word. It’s completely me.” Jamie announced proudly.

“Yeah. I agree, Trouble.” Their heads fell together giggling.

“Can we dance? I’m not up to much but maybe a little sway?” Jamie began to squirm.

“I’m always happy to sway with you.” Dean led him gently out of the chair.

They got up and the group followed, they froze as Lee followed too.

“This is going to get old really quickly if I have to look at your faces like that every time I do something you don’t expect of me. Yes I can dance. And yes I’m aware of who Gloria Gaynor is. I’m a barrister not a light house attendant on the fucking moon. Just fuck off and dance. All of you.” And they did just that. Jamie, Dean, Harry, Lars, Lee, Drew, Gabby, Richard, Trix, Peter, Sally, Jessie and Stevie. They danced and laughed and they collectively healed from a trauma that they would all now share.

Jamie turned to Dean. “You were right. That fire began to burn. I’m never lost when I have you by my side. Holding up my sky. I’m looking forward to more chapters with you. I love you.”

Dean pulled him close. “Hmm, what would you call this chapter of this book of ours then, Trouble?”

“Back to us.” Jamie said in an instant. It captured their life recently so completely.

“I love it.” Dean pulled him off the floor and spun him around. Jamie grabbed his face in his hands and basked in the eyes he fell in love with eleven years before.

Dean dropped him to his feet and took his chin in his hand.

There was only one thing to say.

“Hello, Big Boy. Kiss me.”

So Dean did.

End Of Part Two

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Author’s Note: Your patience is wonderful! And the check ins. So sorry for my delay. Life has gotten in the way and I am sorry. I hope I have done our boys justice. A shorter Part Three will follow which will conclude our look into Jamie and Dean’s world. Thank you to everyone for your truly amazing support.