Rob must have been really tired because he quickly drifted off to sleep in my arms. I squirmed out of his grip and as I did so, he rolled over onto his stomach. I lay on my side next to him and just watched him sleep for a moment. It was something I always enjoyed doing, that alone time with him after sex, when I would just watch him and caress him. I knew he did the same sometimes.
I traced my fingers along his strong arm before raising myself up to rest my head on his back. For a moment, my hand travelled up and down the small of his back, to his ass cheek and his thigh. I loved his body and I knew it so well, nearly all of his extra-sensitive spots. I knew where I could just slightly tickle him, I knew the location of the scar that he'd acquired when he had fallen off his roof at eleven years old. I loved him, every inch of him, and admiring his body was a way to remind myself of who I was, a gay man.
After a while, I kissed his lower back and pulled the bed cover over him a little.
It was only 8pm and I didn't feel like spending the evening alone so I got dressed and went back to Jordan's.
I rang the doorbell because the front door was locked and I didn’t have the key with me.
"Hey mate," he said as he opened the door to me.
"Hey, where's everyone?" I asked him as I peered into the living room.
"They went to Rachel's for dinner."
"Why didn't you go?" I asked.
"I wanna catch up on Game of Thrones since you've all watched the last episode without me," he said, half-joking.
“Les absents ont toujours tort,” I replied, knowing he’d understand—those who are absent are always wrong. We usually watched it together, but he’d been out on a date that night.
"And I'm not that hungry. I'll join them later. What's Rob doing?"
"He fell asleep."
He looked at me with a grin,
"You wore him out!"
I laughed,
"I guess I did!"
"Seriously? You just had sex?" he asked amused, as he sat back down on the couch.
"Yeah."
He must have seen a bit of a blissful expression on my face because he asked with a laugh,
"That good?"
I just let out a small chuckle as I sat down next to him,
"Oh you have no idea, fucking amazing!"
He shook his head,
"So unfair, how many times d'you have sex a day anyway?"
I laughed,
"Well, at least once! Can't resist him!" I said, grinning.
Jordan frowned at me.
“How come?” he asked, genuinely curious.
I thought about it for a brief moment,
"I dunno, I've stopped asking myself that a long time ago." I answered.
"Seriously though, what is it about him? I bet that even though you're out, girls are still gonna go crazy over him!"
I shrugged with a smile,
"Are you jealous?" I teased.
"A little." he admitted with a laugh. "I’m just trying to understand his secret."
"Oh come on, you get your fair share of attention!"
"Yeah sure, but, it's like, when he's around, it's like the rest of us don't even exist."
"Yeah, well, I don't care. I'd rather stay out of the spotlight as much as possible."
"Hey, I don't mind it!" he replied, still clearly thinking it over. “I mean… even I have to admit he’s hot.” He laughed. “Why is everyone so attracted to him? Why are you?”
“I don’t know,” I said, smiling wider. “He’s perfect and gorgeous and intelligent and interesting and fun and loving and charming. I could go on.”
"Well, so am I!" he protested.
I laughed.
“Alright. If you really want to know, there’s just an intensity about him. Something I can’t get enough of.”
“That’s it!” Jordan said. “Even on stage - there’s an intensity to him. I need to work on that.” He paused, thinking.
I laughed again. “Just be who you are.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “But with a bit more intensity.”
“Wow,” I said suddenly. “I really do talk to you about Rob a lot.” I hadn’t realized how much I shared about us.
He laughed. “Hey, don’t worry. I don’t mind.”
I smiled.
"Well, not that I don't enjoy your company, but I'm starving. I think I'm gonna go to Rachel's too."
"Yeah, well, me too then," he said, turning off the TV.
We left his place together and headed over to Rachel’s. When we walked in, everyone was sitting around the coffee table with takeout, watching TV. Right away, we noticed three people we didn’t know, two boys and a girl, though they looked oddly familiar.
“Hello!” Jordan said, clearly startled. “Uh… who the hell are you?”
Damon burst out laughing. “Hey, easy! We found them freezing outside when the delivery guy showed up. They moderate the fan forum—figured it’d be smart to keep them on our side.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Ah. So you’re the ones who can make embarrassing photos and nasty comments magically disappear.”
“Exactly,” one of the boys said, grinning. “It’s honestly surreal to be here.” They stood up quickly. “We can’t believe we’re actually meeting you.”
“Well, nice to meet you,” I said, shaking their hands.
“Likewise,” the girl replied, a little starstruck as she looked at me.
“You look familiar,” I said. “Have we met before?”
“Yeah,” she said eagerly. “We’ve been here a couple of times. And we’ve been to loads of your gigs, you even signed autographs for us once.”
“That’s right,” I said. “So… how did you figure out where we live?”
Damon and Dylan immediately turned to the three of them.
“You already asked that, didn’t you?” Damon said.
They nodded in unison.
“Okay,” I said quickly. “Forget I asked.”
The girl hesitated, then answered anyway.
“Not many people actually know. A lot of fans ask on the forum, but we always tell them to go through BMG if they want to send something. And the few who do know… they don’t really spread it anymore.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Jordan muttered.
“Is Rob coming?” Damon asked, looking around.
“No, he’s asleep.”
“Already?” he said, surprised.
"Yeah, he was knackered."
The three fans exchanged disappointed glances, trying, and failing, not to look crestfallen. Jordan caught it and shot me a mischievous grin. I nudged his shoulder before he could say anything.
“Don’t,” I warned.
"Was he feeling a bit better about coming out?" Rachel asked me.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “It probably needs time to sink in. He’s just really stressed.”
“And you?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Well,” Dylan said, gesturing toward the three of them, “you’ve got a pretty supportive audience right here.”
I smiled at them. “Did you suspect?”
They looked at each other again, unsure.
“A little,” the girl admitted. “There was a lot of speculation about Robbie. But you two together? I don’t think many people genuinely believed you were a couple.”
“Even with the myemers thing.” one of the boys added.
I laughed. “Oh God, you’re all having way too much fun with that, aren’t you?”
“Just getting started,” Rachel said with a grin.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Still, I knew it would only add to the chemistry on stage.
“So… how long have you been like, an item?" the girl asked softly.
I hesitated, guessing this was a question half the forum wanted answered.
“Five years,” I said.
“Pretty much since we started gigging with the band,” Jordan added.
They stared at each other, like they’d just confirmed a long-running bet. The girl broke into a wide smile, while the boys just looked stunned.
We spent the rest of the evening playing board games, laughing a lot, and just enjoying the time spent together.
Since Rob wasn’t answering his phone, his mum called me to say she’d be coming by around nine the next morning.
When I went to sleep, Rob had changed position and was lying under the sheets, his head resting on his pillow. I stripped and slowly spooned myself against him. I felt him stir a little and he held my hand. After a moment, he let out a heavy sigh.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“What?” I asked, startled.
He sighed again,
"Uh, fuckin' nightmare! We were stalked down by reporters."
I couldn’t help laughing softly. “Sounds like it might come true.”
He rubbed his eyes and turned toward me. “What time is it?”
“Almost two.”
"Relax," I whispered to him softly as I placed my hand on the side of his face. He nodded and I stroked his bottom lip with my thumb. He was warm and he leaned his face into my touch. We lay in bed silently together, our bodies pressed against each other and our foreheads touching. I caressed his face for a moment, sometimes kissing him softly to soothe him. I knew the exact texture of his skin, the soft wetness inside his mouth, my hand traveled to the curves of his muscles in his arm. I think at that instant, I knew his every emotion, and it was comfortable that way. I knew he felt it too.
"I know it stresses you out. Just go back to sleep, don't worry about it right now."
He closed his eyes and shifted closer, resting his head against my chest. I wrapped my arms around him and held him there, and before long, we both drifted back to sleep.
------------
I woke to the sound of my phone alarm. It was eight a.m., and I wanted to be up before Rob’s mum arrived. I wasn’t sure if Rob was still asleep, but I slipped out of bed quietly. He barely stirred.
I got dressed and went downstairs to make breakfast. About fifteen minutes later, I heard the front door open - she was letting herself in with her spare keys.
“Hey… good morning, sweetie,” she said softly, pulling me into a warm, motherly hug.
“Morning,” I replied, hugging her back.
We went into the kitchen together. She opened her bag and pulled out a thick stack of newspapers, dropping them onto the counter. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I bought every paper that mentioned you this morning,” she said.
“Oh God,” I said, half-joking, half-serious, as I picked up The Sun. “Now I’m scared.”
I skimmed the article quickly and felt a wave of relief when I saw they hadn’t used the photo of us kissing. Like the others, it focused on the fact that we’d come out on social media. Sensational, maybe, but not as bad as it could’ve been.
“Alright,” I sighed, setting it down. “That could have been so much worse.”
I picked up The Daily Mail next, a little more cautiously.
"Is Robbie still in bed?" she asked.
"Yeah, he's been spark out since eight last night! Seriously, I don't know why he's so tired."
She nodded knowingly. “It must have taken a lot out of him. He sounded tired and worried when I spoke to him last night.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “He really was.” Then I smiled at her. “I’m glad you came.”
“Of course I came,” she said, smiling back.
We sat at the table to have breakfast and she asked kindly,
"So? How are you doing Mark?"
"I'm okay. There are worse things that could be happening."
She nodded slowly. “It does make things feel very official now.”
"Yeah," I smiled, "next thing you know, Rob's gonna ask me to marry him," I grinned to show I was joking.
"Wouldn't that be a lovely wedding," she said, smiling broadly.
"I was kidding," I laughed
"Maybe one day you won't be."
"Oh come on. I wouldn't even want to get married if I were straight."
"Well, your parents didn't exactly set a great example."
I snorted. Then her tone shifted, becoming more serious.
“How do you feel about everyone knowing about the two of you?”
I hesitated, searching for the right words.
“I think I’m just… apprehensive,” I said finally. I paused, then added, “But it’s something we had to do. We’ll have more freedom now. That can only be a good thing, right?”
She nodded, though not without hesitation. "Let's hope so."
I caught the trace of uncertainty in her voice. “You think we should have waited, don’t you?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “I think you did what you felt was right. And I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s just… a big step.”
She studied me with that unmistakably motherly expression.
“What?” I asked, chuckling.
She shook her head.
“You’re all growing up so fast. You’ve changed so much in just a few years. Sometimes I wish you were still twelve.”
“Oh no,” I said immediately. “You don’t really want that. We were completely out of control, we drove you mad.”
She laughed softly.
“You were good kids. It just feels like one day you were little boys, and the next you’d run off without giving me time to notice.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We may be twenty-three, but I promise you, we’re still kids.”
“I wish you were,” she said fondly. “But I’m afraid there’s not much I can do now to protect you from the outside world.” She paused, then smiled. “Although you don’t seem to need it. I’m very proud of you, of everything you’ve already achieved. I’m amazed every day by what you’re doing and how well you’re handling it all.”
I smiled, a little overwhelmed. “We really have come a long way, haven’t we? Sometimes it doesn’t feel real.”
“It is,” she said. “And it’s remarkable.”
“It really is,” I agreed, warming to it. “I love it, everything about it. Being in a band, playing music all the time, having a crowd of people in front of you just going off - it’s the best feeling in the world.” I grinned. “And you know what the best part is?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“No one ever tells us to turn it down.”
She laughed. “If I’d known, I might’ve let you.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, smiling.
“I’m glad you’re living your dream,” she continued. “And you should be proud of yourself. A lot of your success has to do with you.” I shifted, uncomfortable.
“Oh, don’t.”
“No, Mark. Really.” She met my eyes. “Robbie was always special as a kid, and he still is. But you…” She paused. “There’s always been something more about you. Something your parents never quite understood. You were different. You still are. You’re a jewel. I can see exactly why Robbie loves you so much.”
I felt my face heat up. Compliments had never sat easily with me. I looked down, suddenly fascinated by my fingernails.
“Just because your parents didn’t make you feel special doesn’t mean you aren’t,” she said gently, placing her hand over mine. “You’re going to have to start believing in yourself.”
glanced up, then down again.
“I’m trying.”
“Then try a little harder,” she said softly. “Listen to what Robbie tells you.”
“Oh, I listen,” I said lightly. “I’m just not sure I can trust his judgment.”
“Why not?”
“Because he thinks everything I do is perfect.”
“Maybe it is,” she said simply.
I laughed under my breath.
“You know, he’s not exactly objective, and you’re not exactly neutral either.”
She smiled. “So you think love just makes him blind?”
I shrugged.
“I don’t think he’s blind at all,” she said quietly.
We grew silent for a moment.
"But you know," I started saying, "sometimes I wish he wouldn't put me on a pedestal like this. I can't help but feel... maybe this is a little too perfect. It's like we have the kind of relationship some people spend their whole lives looking for.”
She nodded. “You are lucky,” she said simply. “The only advice I can give you is this: never take each other for granted.”
"I agree. But the thing is ...we've always been there for each other, so I guess, we tend to think it'll always be that way."
"It could be, as long as you communicate with each other, and don't let the little things get in the way."
I nodded. She hesitated, then added more quietly,
“Whatever happens in the next few weeks, it will make your relationship stronger. Try to be there for Robbie. He’ll need you more than ever. He might look like he can handle the pressure, the criticism, but he cares deeply about what people think of him.”
“I know,” I said. “He doesn’t fool me. He just feels like he has to protect me. Like he always has to be the strong one.”
She shook her head gently.
“He’s insecure too, you know. He leans on you just as much as you lean on him.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But ever since we were kids, especially with my parents, he’s always been there for me. He’s given me more than I ever gave him.”
"I don't see it that way. You did give him something. You gave him your friendship. So he wasn't sneaking to your house to escape. He had no obvious reason why he needed you, but he did need you, so much, Mark. I think back then, he already needed you to show him he wasn't different." she told me, I smiled and she continued, "You know, he's always loved you. Not like he does now, but he always wanted to look after you, to help you .... I've seen it for years, you know. I didn't think it would turn out this way. I didn't think you would become lovers... but I've always seen the special love he had for you."
Well, it sure felt good to hear that.
"He made the whole situation with my parents a lot more bearable. All of you did,” I said.
"Well, someone had to be there for you," she sighed.
We fell silent again. I think we both knew where the conversation was heading. She was the first to say it.
“Your parents know,” she said gently. “Your mother came to see me last night. Your brother told her.”
My stomach tightened. I frowned, unsure I even wanted the answer.
“Did she say I was going to burn in hell?” I asked dryly, pretty sure she had to be thinking it.
“No,” she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. “But she blamed me.”
I blinked.
"Why?" I asked.
"I let you sleep with my son all these years," she snorted.
I just shook my head in exasperation,
"That's ridiculous! Like that's what made us gay!"
"Yes, that's what I told her. I kind of had a row with her. She can be so ignorant."
I agreed and added with anger in my voice,
“You wouldn’t have had to do any of that if she’d been there for me in the first place,” I said with a tired sigh. “You know… you were more of a mother to me than she ever was.”
She didn’t look surprised.
“I know,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I practically raised you.”
“You did,” I said, making sure she heard the gratitude in my voice. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. You taught me so much more than they ever did. I honestly don’t think I’d be who I am today if you hadn’t been there.”
“Oh, don’t,” she said, blinking quickly. “You’re going to make me cry.” Then, more gently, “I just hope that one day you’ll find the strength to forgive her. To talk to her again.”
“I don’t think I will,” I said firmly. “I’m done with them.”
“She’s still your mother,” she said softly, trying to convince me to take the first step.
“Yeah,” I snapped, bitterness slipping in. “Not much of one.”
“She tried to do what she thought was best for you,” she said, sincerely. “I really believe that.”
I shook my head.
“What was best for me?” I asked, my voice rising despite myself. “ Staying with you all the time was what was best for me? It wasn't right. You can't possibly think that what you had to do was right?” I took a breath, but the words kept coming. “How am I supposed to forgive her? She left me alone. She never really cared. Sure, she fed me, bought me clothes, did the bare minimum. But that was it.”
She opened her mouth to interrupt. “Mark”
“I never felt loved by her,” I continued. “Nothing I did was ever enough. I always felt like I was falling short.” I swallowed. “You had to take me to the doctor once because she wouldn’t. That’s not normal. That’s not love.”
She looked at me, eyes heavy. “I know,” she said quietly.
“She kept her distance my whole life,” I went on, my voice shaking now. “And that messes with you. I felt more love from you than I ever did from her. She made me feel like I wasn’t worth loving.”
“I know,” she repeated, her voice breaking slightly.
“When she let him talk to me the way he did… when she let things happen and looked the other way,” I said, carefully but firmly, “she had to know it was hurting me. I don’t feel like she was ever there for me. Not once. You were. You always were.” I paused. “You made me feel like I was your son too.”
She reached for my hand. “I just tried to give you what she couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t?” I repeated, confused.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I think… she couldn’t.”
“How come?”
She hesitated.
“Mark, there are things you don’t know.”
I waited, but she didn’t continue.
“What things?” I finally asked.
She shook her head.
“I don’t think I should be the one to tell you. It’s something your mother should tell you herself. I just want you to know that whatever happened… she does love you. She just never knew how to show it.”
My head was suddenly full of questions. “Why not? What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice tightening. “And why me? They never treated Thomas or Amy the way they treated me. They were kinder to them. Everything was taken out on me for some reason.”
She nodded slowly. “I know. And there is a reason. There’s an explanation for it.”
“Then tell me,” I said. “I deserve to know.”
“I hope one day she’ll be able to explain it to you,” she said carefully, “but I just think you should know that you need to talk to her again."
"I don't want to talk to her again. Whatever it is, just tell me."
“You’ve got so much going on right now,” she said, clearly torn. “I don’t want to add this. It’s not…”
“Jane,” I interrupted, “you’ve already said too much.” I took a breath. “What is it she’s supposed to tell me?”
She shook her head again, distressed.
“Mark, I can’t be the one to do this.”
She looked worried that I would want to insist on more.
And I did.
“Then you are going to be the one,” I said, my voice sharper now. “What’s the big secret? What, was I adopted or something?”
She went very still.
“No,” she said softly. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” I stared at her. “What does that even mean?”
I could see tears gathering in her eyes now. She was being so cryptic, I needed to know what she was keeping from me.
“I don’t want to be the one who tells you this,” she whispered. “Your mother will hate me for good if I do.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I thought she already did. You made me gay, remember?” Then my voice dropped. “Whatever it is, I need to know. I have the right to know.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
“You do,” she said with a long sigh. “You really do.”
"Then tell me... ‘cause she won't!" I insisted.
“Oh God…” She took a long breath and said nothing for several seconds.
I didn’t rush her. I just watched her, waited. When she finally looked up, her voice was barely steady.
“You remember how you used to spend every summer in France?”
I nodded.
"When Thomas was two, they used to fight a lot. They’d been married for five years, and they kinda hit a rough patch."
She stared at the table as she spoke.
"And during that summer, she got pregnant with you... But..." She paused again, longer this time.
"But what?"
She lifted her eyes to mine and took another breath.
“She wasn’t… with James. They weren’t… having sex.”
I understood before she said anything else. I knew what that meant. I knew what she was telling me. I could see tears forming in her eyes.
"What?" I asked.
There was evident shock in my voice,
"So, you mean, he's not my father?"
She shook her head slowly.
"Oh my god!" I just uttered, fully realizing what she was telling me.
"I was her best friend," she continued, "when she found out she was pregnant, I was the first person she told. She couldn't have an abortion in Ireland so I told her to go to England but she wouldn't do it, she couldn't. She was too religious to ever do that. And she was married."
"But your father," I looked up at her when she said this, he was not my father.
She stopped and said,
"James, he knew you weren't his. Their relationship unravelled even more after this but they wouldn't get a divorce. So, they just raised you as his son."
She swallowed hard.
“But he never accepted it. Never. I lost count of how many times I heard him say, ‘He’s your son, you deal with it,’ when you were just a baby.”
She was crying now, and the truth in her voice made my own chest tighten.
"And then, things got better and she had Amy. But, she had the little girl she had always wanted, and she became even harder on you. More distant.”
My eyes were burning.
"You were such a sweet child, and they treated you so bad, I couldn't just watch and do nothing. He was so mean to you, and she'd just let him, because she felt so guilty. I think she never allowed herself to love you properly."
We sat in silence for a moment.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly.
I shook my head slightly. “I… I don’t know,” I said. “That’s a lot to take in.” I let out a shaky breath. “It’s quite a bombshell.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I really wish I hadn’t been the one to tell you this. But they’ve been keeping it from you for so long, and it’s hurt you more than they ever admitted. I told her so many times to tell you the truth. She always said she would, when you were old enough to understand.” She shook her head. “But seeing what it’s done to your relationship now… I know she never will. You’re an adult, Mark. And you’re right, you have the right to know.”
For a long while, I didn’t say anything.
I wasn’t angry yet. I wasn’t even sad. I was stunned. They had lied to me my entire life. Treated me like I was something inconvenient, something to be tolerated, all because of a mistake she had made. It wasn’t my fault she’d cheated. Why had I been the one to pay for it?
Jane spoke again, carefully.
“I don’t think your mother ever forgave herself. For cheating on James. And I think every time she looked at you, she was reminded of it. She used to tell me you looked a lot like him. That made it even harder for her.”
Something clicked painfully into place.
“So… my biological father,” I said slowly. “Do you know who he is?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think she ever told him. Or kept in touch. It was just a summer fling.”
“My God,” I whispered. “I think I’m almost glad James isn’t my real father.”
She nodded. “I understand that.”
I recalled my childhood - small moments I’d never questioned until now.
"This makes so much sense. I was just a bastard child that he had to put up with. That’s why he treated Thomas and Amy differently.” My voice cracked. “How could they make me pay for something I had nothing to do with? All those years… all those lies.”
My mind was a bundle of emotions. There had been so many lies, so much deceit. The weight of it finally broke through. I didn't feel it coming, but I started crying, real tears. Jane pulled me into her arms without a word and held me while I let it out, the way only a real mother could.
After a while, she spoke softly, right near my ear.
“You were not a mistake,” she said firmly. Then she pulled back just enough to look at me, holding my face in her hands. “Your mother was right about one thing, everything happens for a reason. You were meant to be here. Do you hear me?”
I nodded weakly.
“It was meant to be,” she repeated gently.
I didn't know how much time had passed but when I finally let go of her, I got myself a tissue and a glass of water.
"It's about time you woke up!" She told Rob as he walked into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” he asked immediately, concern written all over his face. He gave her a quick good‑morning hug, then looked at me, noticing our red eyes.
“It’s not about the coming-out thing,” his mum said quickly, before he could jump to conclusions.
"Then what is it? Have you been crying?" he asked me with concern, although it was pretty obvious.
“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice betrayed me. “We were just talking.”
“You don’t look fine.”
He didn’t wait for permission, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. A few more tears slipped out as he held me, rubbing my back gently. While he did, his mum explained, briefly and carefully, what she’d just told me.
Rob froze.
“Holy shit,” he said finally. “That… that explains everything.”
"I know right!" I said to him, "Can you believe this? All this time, I had to put up with a stupid abusive asshole who wasn't even my father!"
“This is so messed up,” he muttered. “Are we suddenly living in a soap opera?”
He shook his head, trying to process it. “That’s why you don’t even look like him, or Thomas. I always thought that was weird.”
He turned to his mum. “How long have you known?”
"Since.... before you were even born," she answered.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"It was not my place."
“But Mum,” he pressed, “if you knew why they treated him so badly, why didn’t you do something?"
"I did do something," she said, raising her voice. "I took him in whenever he needed it. I tried to care for him as much as I could and to make things better with her. What more could I have done? There was nothing more I could do and it was none of my business."
"I know, I'm sorry, I know you did all that. But Jesus mum, you should've told us!"
"I couldn't. I didn't even want to tell him today. This is a lot."
We talked for a while longer, until there was nothing left to say. Eventually, Rob and I moved to the living room. I dropped onto the couch, exhausted. He lay down behind me, wrapping his arms tightly around me, holding me like he always had.
“I wish there was something I could do,” he said after a long silence.
"Just hold me. You're the only thing that can fix me right now." I said softly.
So he did.
We had planned on having lunch all together with Rob's mother so when the guys came over, we told them what had happened.
"Oh my god," Jordan sighed, "this shit with your parents is never gonna stop, is it?"
"Well, they're gonna die someday!" Damon said.
"Yeah... And then we'll meet again in hell!" I exclaimed with anger.
Rob frowned at me as if to say, ‘you don't go to hell for being gay'
“Sorry,” I muttered quickly. I didn’t even believe in hell or heaven. None of us really did. Our parents had their religions; we never fully bought into any of it.
"Then who's your real father?" Dylan asked.
"I dunno. Just some guy," I sighed dramatically.
"Maybe she knows more about him than what she told Jane," Jordan thoughtfully added.
"You know what? Can we just stop talking about it? Let's leave it alone, ok?" I asked them as I stood up.
"Mark," Rachel called, following me. I entered the room where Rob and I kept a few instruments and slumped onto the couch.
"Rach, I'm fine, I just don't want to talk about it anymore."
Oh, come on, don’t lie to me,” she said, sitting next to me. “I know you. You’re not fine.”
“Rach, don’t. It just answers a lot of questions about why they always treated me so badly.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I know it’s a lot to take in. You probably need Rob more than you need me right now, but if you do need to talk, I’m here.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean it, Mark. I want you to talk to me. I want to know that you’re okay. I want to help if you’re not.”
“I know,” I said again, grateful she was still there for me.
“Yeah, you do, but instead of talking to me or anyone else, you’ll just keep it all inside.”
“I won’t!” I insisted, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, you will,” she said, calmly certain. And she was right, I knew she was, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
“You need to talk to your parents about this,” she said firmly.
"I don't want to!" I said, shaking my head, there was no way I was going to talk to them again any time soon.
"How can you not want to?" she asked, bewildered.
"What's the point? Jane wasn't even supposed to tell me!"
"But, how can you not want to throw that you know about this in their faces?"
"Well, I don't. I was raised to keep quiet, you know."
"Well, maybe it's time you stopped!"
"Fine, maybe I will. Can we drop it now? Can we do that?" I insisted.
"Fine," she sighed, finally giving up, she knew there was no point insisting when I had decided not to do something, "You know I love you, right?"
I smiled, "I know."
It wasn’t romantic anymore. It was deep, unwavering friendship - a kind of love that didn’t need romance. We hadn’t said it aloud often since our breakup, yet it felt natural to say it to her.
"Ok, so please don't be your usual 'I'll deal with this by myself' alright, don't keep it all inside, you don't need to."
"When am I ever like that?" I joked. Truthfully, I always tried to fix things on my own first.
We were silent for a moment, then she rolled her eyes. “Now I bet she thinks you being gay is God’s punishment.”
I chuckled. “And my father will probably be the first to comfort her in that thought.”
"They are so fucked up!" she exclaimed.
I wrapped an arm around her and hugged her to me for a moment.
"Thanks for always being here for me," I told her as I kissed her forehead.
"You're welcome," she said as she snuggled against me.
The rest of the day passed quietly and warmly. We stayed in, hanging out with Rob’s mum, laughing, and cooking together. I didn’t even check social media, I wanted to hold onto the positivity from the comments I’d seen the night before.
After dinner, Rob disappeared into the room where Rachel and I had been talking. He stayed there a long time, and after half an hour, I decided to check on him. I needed to be alone with him.
I opened the door and blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. He was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a guitar resting in his lap. His fingers slid along the neck with the kind of ease that made it look like an extension of himself. He’d taken off his sweatshirt, wearing only a white tank top, and I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his tanned arms moving as he strummed gently.
I rested my body against the closed door and just watched him, focusing on the sound of his voice and of his guitar.
He cleared his throat and hummed a few notes. He moved his fingers into an E chord and strummed and hummed louder. He picked out a simple rhythm, but as he opened his mouth to sing, the words must have died. His hand fell into his lap and he slumped over his guitar.
"Christ, Mark!" he complained to me eventually.
I glanced up at him sympathetically. I had been in this sort of rut often enough to know how annoying and frustrating it was. Something in you that's trying to get out, something beautiful, but you can't let it out. Something's holding it back. But if only you could just stop being so afraid, the beautiful thing would come out and everything would be all right. I kept quiet, not knowing what to say. I just watched him. Slowly he raised his head and eyed me suspiciously.
He rested his chin on the curve of his guitar's body,
"I know I've got a new song here but it doesn't seem like it wants to come out."
I walked over to the couch. I took a deep breath and took the guitar from his hands. I placed it on the floor and straddled him. I decided to let my emotions get the best of me, and reached for the back of his neck with both of my hands. I pulled his face against mine, my lips enveloping his own. I felt his hands reaching behind my back as a small laugh moved through his lips and he embraced me.
I didn't care about what anybody thought, my parents, my siblings, my family, our fans, the media, I didn't give a shit about any of them anymore. I loved him and as I kissed him, I knew I would never hunger for another person this much. I would never have this passion with someone else, I was so sure of that.
We kissed lovingly for a couple of minutes until he lay on the couch and I quickly crawled on top of him, my lips hardly ever leaving his own. I didn't know what he thought this meant, and I guess I didn't either, but I knew I wanted him. His arms moved up and down my back as I continued kissing him.
"You taste so good," I said to him, kissing his cheek, letting my tongue slip out a little, them moving to his chin.
He sighed as I started kissing his neck, moving down to his collarbone. I sat back for a moment and Rob sat up as I pulled his tank top over his head and then fell back on top of him, letting our bodies press against each other.
"Oh, God," he sighed in between my kisses.
I looked into his eyes. They were so full of love and I wondered if mine contained the same. I didn't even know how far I was planning on going, I just wanted to feel close to him, to love him, but when I found myself kissing his stomach and untying his jogger pants, I began to get a vague idea. Rob let out a loud moan as my hand slid against his cock, forcing me to remind him that everyone was hanging out in the living room, on the other side of the door.
"Sorry," he whispered. I yanked his pants down and took his gorgeous cock in my hand, staring at it admiringly before taking it into my mouth.
I heard him inhale deeply from above as I moved his legs further apart. I didn't know how much time was passing. I felt like I had been temporarily brought to another plane of existence as I licked his balls and then his cock like it was a lollipop, sucked on the head. I savoured the precum that was easing out of the slit, took him down to the base, smelling his manly scent that was driving me wild.
I was brought back to reality only when I heard him telling me that he was about to cum. I could have decided to move onto another activity, but I just couldn't. I wanted all of him. I couldn't get enough of his taste and smell. I shifted my eyes upward to see his hand reaching up to grab the armrest of the couch as he began to cum in my mouth. Thick loads pumped out of him and I knew he was doing everything in his power to stay quiet.
I swallowed his seed greedily, eventually taking my mouth off of his wet, spent cock. At that moment, I felt content and hard as hell.
Rob sat up to press his mouth against mine, slowly lowering me onto my back as he took my place. He pulled my own pants down and licked the inside of my thighs. He pushed his face into my ball sack, licking anything he came into contact with. Then I felt him grab my hard member and guide it into his mouth. His tongue felt like a velvet rope as I felt it gliding up and down the underside of my cock. His lips formed a tight seal around my cock, creating a small cavern where his tongue had free reign. The sensations were all so familiar.
Rob being highly skilled in every activity he enjoyed, especially when my body was involved, after a few minutes of him licking, sucking and deepthroating my cock, I couldn't take it anymore, and I came in his mouth, my mind briefly thinking that this is how I wanted it to be forever.
After, we lay next to each other, spent. It was just familiar and right. We stayed quiet, contentedly gazing into each other's eyes.
"I didn't expect this," he said, eventually. "I thought you had other things on your mind tonight."
It had been a very long and intense couple of days, and I realized that I hadn't expected any of the things that had happened to happen, including having sex with him.
"You're on my mind," I told him sincerely, "I just wanted you. I don't care what anybody thinks about why we should or shouldn't be together... certainly not what my mother thinks. Even more so now that I know she's been lying to me my whole life. I don't give a shit anymore!" I said resolutely.
"You're absolutely right, I guess I shouldn't give a shit either."
"No you shouldn't." I agreed and after a moment added. "You know what? I just love you. And you're the only person I'll ever be this attracted to in my life, I know that... I could never understand that part," I laughed, "But I've never wanted to fight it. We're just meant to be together, simple as that. I know we can take anything they throw at us as long as we've got each other," I said, nuzzling closer to him.
"I don't know what I've done to deserve you."
"Nothing, you're just yourself. I know you're the only person who will love me no matter what. It's just chemistry, go figure!" I smiled.
"I will." he promised.
"I know."
"For what it's worth, you're the best mistake she's ever made. Whoever that guy is, I'm glad he fucked her," he laughed and I did too.
"Fuck, that's so weird, I can't even imagine her having sex with anyone."
"Must've been quite a stud! Good for her," he joked, " maybe he was the lifeguard in the swimming pool," he added dreamily.
"Come on, stop!" I begged.
We laughed way too hard at this, as he imagined all sort of scenarios. It was a good way to play down the whole thing.
We eventually stopped laughing and I asked him,
"So, tell me about that song you were trying to write when I interrupted you."
"Oh, I don't know. Do you remember what you told me before? When you said you needed me to fix you?"
I nodded.
"I think that's a song right there."
"Yeah? What do you have in mind?" I asked, intrigued.
"I'm not sure. Do you wanna help me?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's do that!" I agreed impatiently.
He started sharing the first lyrics he’d come up with, and I tried out a few melodies. We worked together, laughing and refining lines, trying out chords and rhythms, until half an hour later we decided we needed the guys’ input.
When we returned to the living room, my eyes landed on a few champagne flutes on the table, and a cold beer bottle.
"Hey! We were about to come and get you!" Dylan called, grinning.
Damon added with a laugh, "But no one was bold enough to walk in on you, not even Jord!" He looked at Jordan, who smirked.
“I would’ve!” Jordan said, shrugging.
I laughed. "We were just working on a song!"
Damon chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “We’re supposed to believe that?”
“We were!” I said, laughing again. “And we actually need your help!”
“All right,” Dylan said sceptically, “but first… we’re celebrating!”
"Are you serious!" Rob said.
"Yeah, very!" Jordan said as he popped open the cold beer bottle and handed it over to Rob, who knew what he had to do. We took part in an old tradition that we had practiced since... well, nearly since the first drink we’d shared together. Rob took a long drink, then handed it to me. I took a swig from it, then passed it to Dylan, who followed my suit, then Damon, and Jordan was last. He finally gave the bottle back to Rob, who finished what was left. When he slapped the empty beer bottle back on the table, somehow, we just felt more relaxed, ready to just laugh and talk together easily, with no tension in the air, if there'd been any.
We all knelt beside the coffee table and Rachel and Jane joined us.
"Oh, now I'm worried," Jane said, as she saw the bottles of alcohol.
Jordan had placed a few more on the table. "Is this what you boys do when I'm not here?"
"Oh no, no, no, Jane, don't worry," Jordan said in a reassuring tone, "we're being good boys, we only get hammered when you're here so you can supervise," he joked.
She rolled her eyes as Damon picked up the bottle of champagne and proceeded to open it. He removed the foil wrap, placed one hand on the neck of the bottle and maintained pressure with his thumb. Then he removed the wire cage, but he didn't hold the cork firmly. Instead he pushed on it a little, on purpose I'd say. The bottle's pressure popped the cork, and the funniest thing happened. It hit Jordan right on the forehead. If he had wanted to do it on purpose, it wouldn't have succeeded.
"For fucks sake!!!" Jordan yelled and fell onto his back as he rubbed his forehead vigorously to make the pain go away.
Damon laughed, pouring champagne as it fizzed over the rim. “You okay?”
"No, I'm not. Are you trying to kill me?"
“Let me see,” Rachel said, leaning down. Jordan moved his hand, revealing a tiny red spot. Nothing serious.
"You're fine, you'll survive," she told him, amused, and rubbed the spot. We were all concerned for a second but we quickly cracked up laughing at the unlikeliness of the situation.
"I'm such a good shot," Damon laughed.
“Fuck you, dude! You’re lucky now’s not the time for payback!” Jordan shot back, still rubbing his forehead.
We seriously had the best fit of laughter. There had been so much tension for the last couple of days that we all needed this.
We finally all had a sip of champagne and Rob spoke as he moved closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
"Alright! There's something I'd like to say! First, Damon, thank you for that. He had it coming!" he joked, Jordan being the one who had pressured us to come out the most.
"No problem. I'll do it again anytime!"
"You are so ungrateful!" Jordan said, mock-outraged. “"I only have your best interests at heart, and that's how you repay me!"
We laughed and Rob continued, smiling. “Seriously, though… I want to thank all of you for being so supportive. You know how much it means to us. I realize this affects not just Mark and me, but all of you, too. So, thank you - for being here, for helping us get through this. It really means the world.”
“Amen to that!” Dylan said, raising his glass.
They looked at me, waiting.
“You know what? Rob said it perfectly. I don’t have anything else to add,” I said.
“Well, I do,” Jordan interrupted. “It’s great you’re thanking us, but seriously, how could we not support you? As far as our friendship goes, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I’m not even drunk yet, so I’m telling the truth! Unless maybe I’ve got a concussion,” he added, rubbing his forehead again.
“I think I speak for all of us,” he continued, “when I say we love you, we’re proud of you, and we just want you to be happy… Actually, scratch that, we need you to be happy.”
"Why is that?" I asked him with a smirk.
" 'Cause, when everyone says that U-N-I's got chemistry! Well, I think that most of that chemistry comes from you and what you've got together. Things wouldn't be the same if you guys weren't together anymore."
We smiled. We knew he was right about that. I didn't even want to think about what would happen to the band if for some reason Rob and I ever broke up. I didn't see any reason why we would, but I could only hope we'd be able to stay friends and still make the band a priority.
"I know it's difficult and scary for you right now but I'm sure than in a few weeks, you won't even remember what it was like to not be out. I know everyone will support you, but even if they don't, it's fine! 'Cause we don't need everyone to be on our side. A little bit of controversy's never killed anyone. Plus, I bet you'll have a lot of fun with that, won't you, Rob!"
"I think I will!" he chuckled.
"I know you didn't want to shout it to everyone by making a big announcement, but at least now, you got it out of the way!"
"Yeah," Rachel said, "and can I just say, while we're doing this! I'm so proud of you too cause, well, you're not afraid to let the world see who you are, and everyone will admire you for that, 'cause the more honest and open you are with people, the more respect you earn. I'm sure you'll be an example to a lot of guys."
"Absolutely!" Jordan agreed. "Hey, if I were gay, I'd be in love with you!" he joked.
Rob laughed, looking at him with mock lust, until Jordan rolled his eyes. “IF!” he exclaimed.
Lately, we were constantly flirting with Jordan to piss him off because it worked so well. Jordan had always been a pretty boy, but now that he was older, he was fucking hot! He really was attractive, and he knew it too. When it came to his looks, having gay guys as his best friends definitely had its perks and he knew how to take advantage of it. He'd often work out with us or ask for fashion tips. For instance, he'd always ask us,
"Would you snog me?" before leaving for a date to know if he looked good enough.
He knew that if we found him attractive, then he was good to go.
Rachel continued. "I think there's a lot of straight guys who'd love to be in your shoes, and have your looks and your talent," Rachel said, "so maybe that'll force some of 'em to be a bit more open minded."
“Oh yeah, that’s true,” Damon said, remembering something. “Look at me, once, I tried to dress like you guys. Remember, Rach? And you had to ground me because I was stealing clothes from your wardrobe!”
"See, what did I tell you!" she said with a laugh.
"Are you saying I dress like a girl?" Rob said, pretending to be offended.
"Well I don't own half as many tight t-shirts as you do."
Rob grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.
"Yeah, you guys are awesome!" Dylan concluded, "Let's drink!"
We clinked glasses again and drank to a bright future.
We hung out together for a while. It was fun, familiar and comfortable. We eventually told them about the song Rob had in mind. They were immediately enthusiastic about it and Dylan suggested the song should slowly start on the keyboard, with the sound of an organ.
We worked on it until we could barely keep our eyes open. This time, I was tired before Rob was and I was the first one to go to bed, with a frustrating feeling of unfinished work, but the song was off to a good start.
For the next few days, we worked on it. Again, we tried to write lyrics that everyone would be able to relate to in a way or another, and soon it felt finished. It started as a beautiful, intimate, sad and sentimental song, and then we found ways to build suspense while progressing toward an inevitable crashing climax.
We couldn't wait to record it in the studio and to play it live, which was the reason why we knew it was going to be a number one single and one of the fans' favourite. There was no doubt in my mind about this. It was a hit song. It was the first one we completed for the new album, and it made us want to begin to seriously write new material. I already had many ideas in mind. I knew there would be a song about coming out, but it was all too fresh for now.
I'd also had a break up song almost completely written in my mind for a long time, inspired by Rachel, but I'd never wanted to go as far as to record it or play it to them. I didn't want to hurt anyone, or maybe I couldn't make Rob sing a song about me breaking up with her.
But I knew I had something really good there, and that eventually, I would have to show it to them and that they'd want to record it.
Moreover, we still entertained the idea of working with Bono and Rihanna on this new album. The thought was exhilarating.
But for now, we were off to a good start with "Fix you". The main lyrics were,
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.
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