Chapter Text
Can’t wait to see you. Alex’s ill thought out message rattled around his brain for the entire walk home. What on earth had possessed him? Alex had spent an entire week trying to put Miles well and truly out of his mind only to immediately revert to making a fool of himself within minutes of being back in Miles’s presence. Adam had been a welcome distraction but it seemed like it was only effective when they were physically together.
Somehow, Miles’s magnetic pull was so strong, Alex had managed to delude himself into thinking they were on the verge of kissing, again, right there in the changing room. Alex had thought his heart was actually going to stop beating when Miles had smoothed his hair out of his face and started gently stroking his ear. Then when their cheeky banter had kicked up a notch, all Alex had felt was Miles’s strong hand on his arm; warm, and reassuring, and wanting. But Miles was just friendly. Flirtatious. More tactile than the average person. It didn’t mean anything. But by god, Alex wished it did.
Just like last week, on Alex’s sofa. Miles had been talking about propositions, and seeing Alex’s bedroom, and coffee, and for half a second, Alex had deluded himself into thinking Miles was interested. Wanted him. Truly laughable. The thought of Adam, who actually did want him if only physically, had jolted Alex out of his ludicrous fantasy and back down to earth. Then the mood had changed with no prior warning; Miles had rushed off, leaving Alex confused when they’d had –what he’d thought – had been a good evening together.
Alex was stood, now, frozen in indecision. Left was home. His punch bag, his books. Empty cupboards. An empty bed. But he could text Miles. Flirt with him a bit, maybe. Distract himself. Pretend, just for a little while, that Miles’s words were serious. Meaningful.
Right was the tube station. Adam’s house. A hot meal and a soothing drink. Strong arms and a bold mouth. There wouldn’t be much talking, if any at all.
Alex closed his eyes and thought back to just a few minutes earlier after his lapse in judgement. He’d tried to smooth things over with Miles, and remind himself that they were just friends. Miles had played along, letting Alex down gently in his kind and patient way, his customer service face giving way to his gorgeous eyes and cheeky smile. Alex sighed. It’s not helpful. I’m hopeless. Alex looked right. Maybe Adam will turn out to be the man of my dreams if I try hard enough.
-
Alex had finally got himself organised, ordering a large, cupboard-stocking food shop to be delivered on Friday night, which meant he’d be forced leave Adam’s place by eight, at the latest. Alex had thought in light of the past week, and particularly Thursday night after his resolve to forget about Miles, he would have found it difficult to tear himself away from Adam and his unique method of distraction. But it had been much easier than Alex had anticipated and he’d ended up going straight home from the office. Everything had started so promisingly; on Thursday night, Adam had cooked them a delicious meal as promised and they’d had such an interesting discussion about literature, and music, and then got onto TV, and film, and hobbies. Alex could have talked to him for hours. Then they’d turned in for the night (who knew Adam’s bed could be used for something other than sex?) and ended up carrying on their easy conversation before falling asleep nestled into each other. It was nice. A welcome change from a cold and empty bed, or more recently, passing out in a sex coma.
With his energy replenished, Alex had woken up with a different kind of hunger, kissing and caressing Adam with teasing strokes, wanting to take things further before work, until Adam had flipped them over, pinning Alex to the bed.
Alex had protested and wriggled away, leading to a discussion that quickly turned heated and then rapidly cooled, turning icy. He needed to talk to someone, to get an outside perspective, but only one name echoed in his head. Miles. No. Not appropriate. Alex had already overshared and if Miles was kind to him and made an effort to be understanding and give advice, Alex was at risk of getting sucked in again by false hope. But there wasn’t really anyone else he could turn to. None of his mates would be open to this kind of conversation – they weren’t very open minded so Alex had never even tried to talk to them about his love life. Thankfully, Alex was distracted by his delivery and by the time his food shopping was tidied away, he’d managed to put Adam out of his mind, at least temporarily.
Alex was sat in front of the TV wolfing down a salad he didn’t want (tomorrow Miles would definitely ask if he’d stuck to his meal plan and they both knew he was a terrible liar) when his phone buzzed. He picked it up, expecting it to be one of his mates, or Adam, trying to persuade him to go back round. It was Miles. Alex scolded himself for the twinge of excitement he still felt every time he saw Miles’s name pop up on his phone screen, let alone when they were physically together, and swiped the message open.
~ Just checking we’re still on for tomorrow? x
~ I’m game if you are x
Flirting with Miles was just too easy. And far too much fun for Alex’s own good. It was impossible to resist.
~ Let’s see if you can still use your calculator after I’ve pushed you to your limit
~ Might not have a functioning brain
~ Might have to carry me home
~ Lie you down in a darkened room
~ To recover
~ A sleepover with no sleep
~ Gives me chance to rummage in your cupboards and steal all your rice pudding. And your coffee beans. The perfect crime x
Alex could think of at least twenty things he’d rather Miles do at a sleepover with no sleep than creep around his kitchen, but none of them were appropriate to text to a friend. I’ll let you rummage in my cupboards any day. Alex snorted. Sending that would probably be a step too far, even for them.
~ The peanut butter too. It’s for your own good you know
~ Miles Kane you dare touch my peanut butter
~ And what are you going to do to stop me?
~ What a question
Rummage in your cupboards. Suck you off. Spank you. Fuck you until you beg for mercy. Kiss you better. Hold you tight and never let go.
~ To be determined at a later date. Depending on what you can handle
~ I have a very high pain threshold actually. I can handle anything you throw at me
~ Anything?
~ Yes
~ I’m more concerned about what you can handle
Alex paused, heart thumping with exhilaration. Was he really going to go there? His fingers hovered over his phone screen.
Another message appeared.
~ Even if you think something won’t work, just try me. Night Alex x
What was that supposed to mean? Alex had no clue. But if nothing else, at least Miles had ended their conversation before Alex could type something totally reckless and friendship-ruining.
Alex’s phone buzzed again and his heart fumbled a beat. Was it Miles clarifying what he meant? Making an offer? A proposition? No, just Adam. Deflated, Alex dropped his phone onto the sofa without reading the message.
-
Alex had given himself a stern talking to on the way to the gym. Keep a safe distance apart at all times. No touching. No flirting. No searching for meaning in anything. Just a normal client-trainer arm workout and a business chat. Between friends.
He arrived at the gym a little early, as planned, just in time for a quick cigarette. Hopefully, if he smelt like smoke, Miles wouldn’t want to stand too close to him. On his approach, Alex spotted a familiar lean figure at the side of the gym, dressed all in black. His posture was slightly hunched and he was stood with his hand against his face. Wait, he was smoking? Absolute cheek.
“‘Ey up.” Alex leaned against the wall, pointedly eyeing the cigarette in Miles’s hand. He saw a flicker of guilt cross Miles’s face before he shrugged, taking a drag through pretty, pursed lips and exhaling smoke into the haze of the afternoon.
“Alright Alex? Very Postman Pat of ya.”
Alex took out his own packet of cigarettes and lit one. “Mr High and Mighty, tellin’ me off like a naughty school boy for smokin’, and here you are. Might as well be round the back of the bike sheds. And Postman Pat’s from Cumbria, not Yorkshire.” He watched Miles bring his cigarette to his lips again, inhaling slowly this time and exhaling even more so, as if trying to dispel something other than smoke from his body and into the atmosphere.
“Wallace and Gromit then. There wasn’t any smokin’ at the bike sheds in my school. That was the shaggin’ place, like. The smokin’ was done in full view of the teachers. Reckon I lit one for half of ‘em over the course of year eleven.” Miles flicked some ash away and Alex’s eyes were drawn now to Miles’s long fingers and the elegant way they held the cigarette in place. Alex knew what those hands were capable of – comfort, reassurance, tenderness, an expertly performed and arousing massage – but he’d never get to experience them used to their full potential. Not helpful.
Alex laughed. The way his mind was already racing between wistfulness and lust, he didn’t dare ask if Miles had been one of the shaggers. “Guess you can’t get told off if you’re helpin’ ‘em out. But what happened when someone needed to get their bike? And wrong again, Wallace and Gromit are from Wigan.”
“Bike sheds were always empty, anyone took a bike in it’d be nicked by the end of the day.” Miles looked over at Alex, whose mouth was agape. “We’re not all middle class like you, love.” Miles’s gaze flitted away, staring at the skyline in front of them. “Anyway. Let meself have one a month, if I need it. Consider it my equivalent of your eating peanut butter out the jar. It stops the itch in me brain long enough.” Miles took another drag, the slight hunch in his shoulders more pronounced.
Alex paused, taking a drag of his own cigarette. “What makes you feel like you need it?” Miles’s eyes flicked to the ground. “Sorry, none of me business. Shouldn’t have asked.”
Miles shrugged. “’S alright. Just helps to block certain feelin’s out sometimes.”
“Makes sense. If you need someone…” Alex swallowed. “I mean, if you wanted to…” Alex gave up and took another drag. What was he doing? Miles didn’t want Alex bothering him. And he definitely wasn’t interested in anything else.
“Thanks.” Miles looked up again, a slight glimmer back in his eye, a small smile on his lips. Maybe Miles had understood and somehow, was grateful for what Alex was offering; the promise of being there, for whatever he needed. “Tell me then, who is from Yorkshire that might say “ey up”?”
“Well, me, obviously. I just did. Me dad. Me grandad. The Chuckle Brothers. Anyone from Last of the Summer Wine.”
Miles grinned. “So, have you ever seen anyone roll down a hill in a bath in your wonderful home county? Or is it just somethin’ sitcoms would lead me to believe is a daily occurrence?”
“Now that you mention it…” They both broke into easy laughter. Miles looked complete now he was smiling; the tiny lines at the side of his eyes illuminated his face like sunlight in a cloudy sky. Alex’s mind drifted back to their first session together, and his thoughts of a Miles eclipse; a bright spot in the grey despair and drudgery of his week. Having Miles as a friend was so much better than not having him at all. No matter how painful it might feel at times.
“Have always wanted to go somewhere in Yorkshire. Got me own personal tour guide now.” Miles placed his free hand on Alex’s arm and Alex willed his face not to turn red. They’d only just smoothed things over; Miles wouldn’t appreciate Alex getting the wrong idea from his friendly gesture.
“I’m game, anytime.” Really smooth. Not over eager in the slightest… “Take you to all the bath tub racin’ spots. Then we can go liftin’ furniture and shout “to me, to you” at each other.”
“I’ll hold you to that one, love. Shall we go in?” Miles stubbed his cigarette out and threw it into the bin, Alex following suit. Miles didn’t mean anything by it, people said those kind of things all the time. He was just making conversation. Alex tried not to dwell on his new pet name that sounded all the sweeter in Miles’s soothing lilt, and the glow of warmth it left in its wake.
“Lead the way. And you can take me on a Beatles trip round Liverpool and cook me up some scouse to pay me back for me tour guide duties.”
“Sounds like a date.” If only.
Alex swiped into the gym and bumped straight into one of the many buckets littering the entrance way. The roof had its continuous leak whatever the weather, so that was no surprise, but the bucket was full to the brim with rusty looking water (at least, Alex hoped it was rust, and someone hadn’t relieved themselves, too desperate to make it to the changing room in time). The water sloshed against the side of the bucket and dripped onto the carpet. It would be fine – the carpet was soggy and heavily stained in that area anyway – and judging by the state of the entrance, it wasn’t the first time there’d been a spillage that day.
“Buckets are a bit full,” Alex said, as Miles stepped out of the pod next to him.
Miles looked over. “Yeah, guess they are. Come on.” Miles strode off in the direction of the free weights, Alex trailing behind him.
It wasn’t Alex’s place to ask Miles about his gym duties, but he was usually so conscientious; running around desperately trying to top up the cleaning supplies, save people from food poisoning, keep the changing rooms clean and tidy. Today, he seemed… uninterested.
Miles was stood, arms folded across his chest in full business mode. “Right, so we’ll start with lunges, same as last time. You properly fuelled up today?”
“Yep, all fed and watered, and rarin’ to go.” Alex smiled.
Miles raised his eyebrow.
“Well, maybe rarin’’s an overstatement, but, you know. Amenable to it.”
Miles laughed, and Alex hated how his heart swelled at the sound. “That’s more like the Alex I’ve got to know. Take these. Promise not to collapse on ya today.” Miles handed over some dumbbells and Alex took them, begrudgingly making a start on his first set.
Alex was intently focused on his form, so much so it wasn’t until his second set he realised that Miles wasn’t chatting; usually Miles would be talking about his classes that week, or telling funny stories from his regular clients. Alex stood up from his last lunge of the set and tried to decide what to do. Should he crack some jokes? Ask Miles what was wrong? Gently flirt with him? None of those options seemed appropriate. Of course, there was the usual British way; carry on whilst pretending everything was fine. But friends didn’t do that. Friends weren’t afraid to speak up, even in uncomfortable situations.
“Everythin’ alright?” Alex would do what he always did – open his mouth and deal with the consequences of whatever verbal diarrhoea emerged as and when required.
“Fine, yeah. Next set, come on.” Miles gestured with his hand, and it wasn’t like him to be impatient.
Alex started his next set, dropping his back leg to the ground. “When do accountants fall over? When they lose their balance.” He looked up to see Miles’s expression – flat and stony. None of his usual warmth or light to be seen. “Nothing? Come on, that was one of me best. And it was topical. with me lungin’ and all. Right, worse jokes than that…” Alex continued his set searching for the perfect joke to make Miles crack. “Okay. What’s me – accountant me that is – what’s my favourite exercise?”
Miles stood motionless, presumably watching Alex’s form.
“‘M not giving you the answer until you join in. These jokes are interactive, you know.”
Miles didn’t respond.
“Humour your poor, sufferin’ client Miles. Go on.” Alex widened his eyes, mid lunge, determined to cheer Miles up.
Miles sighed and a tiny glimmer of something flickered across his face. Alex would have missed it if he hadn’t have been studying Miles so intently, desperate for a laugh, a smile, a lip twitch – anything. “What’s your favourite exercise, Alex?”
“Crunches. Number crunches.” Alex waggled his hands in a little flourish.
Miles’s expression started to crack, and there it was… that gorgeous laugh that had captured Alex’s heart since he’d first set foot in this dump of a gym. Only a small one, but Alex would gladly take it. “Good job you clarified, seem to remember you hated crunches when we did them in our core session.”
“Well, you’re a taskmaster as you well know. Always askin’ for more, wantin’ it harder, longer, lower. Deeper.” Memories from that one on one session were burned into Alex’s brain, and they’d spurred him on through many a session of his own with Adam.
“That’s a Daft Punk song, right? Or a porno? Doesn’t sound like me at all.”
“That’s a Miles Kane workout session. And maybe even a Miles Kane porno, who knows?” Alex laughed and embraced the flush working its way up his whole body. If he managed to cheer Miles up, it was worth the embarrassment.
“Hmm, don’t think so. My porn’s reserved for questionable photoshoots only, you know that.” Miles winked. “Enough lunges, let’s move onto triceps.”
Alex re-racked his weights, glad that Miles’s mood seemed to have brightened somewhat, and they moved over to the cable machine, Miles attaching the tricep rope. “Try this weight, see how you get on. Remember your form, yeah? Slow and steady.”
“So…” Alex puffed, as he pulled down on the rope. He’d only missed a week, how was he struggling already? “Notice you said photoshoots, plural. You been holdin’ out on me? How many publications have turned over their photos of you for bein’ too…”
“Devastatingly handsome? Distractingly sexy? Disproportionately attractive based on me height?” Miles raked his hand through his hair and devastating was certainly an accurate description.
“Nothin’ wrong with your height, or your ego, but basically, yeah.” Friends could call each other those things, right? Thinking of your mate as sexy was basically fine…
“Aw. Flattery will get you everywhere, babe,” Miles cooed, touching Alex lightly on the arm. “But just Men’s Health. And maybe a private shoot I’ve had commissioned in the past. Thankfully those photos were printed copies and the break up was okay, so me ex didn’t try and revenge porn me or anythin’. Just gave ‘em back to me.”
“Right. So change of plan, we’re gonna have to go to yours later instead. For totally unrelated reasons, obviously.” Alex grinned and it was so good to hear Miles laugh properly, even though it had taken Alex being totally transparent about his hopeless feelings. Yet again, his resolve hadn’t so much crumbled as disintegrated when he’d seen the look on Miles’s face earlier, and felt the stark contrast from his usual sunny demeanour.
“Come on you, focus on your form. Or I’ll get you on the burpees and the crunches. Real ones mind, not ones with numbers.” Miles was still smiling, and he shook his head, slipping his headband back into place.
“You fiend. This is s’posed to be an arm workout.” Alex started his next set. “Where’s HR when you need ‘em? Reportin’ you for unethical conduct.”
Miles laughed, and Alex would never tire of the sound; warm, and soothing yet totally infectious. “Not sure there is one. Self employed aren’t I, so… Everything stops with me. But I can give you the manager’s details if you want to make a complaint.”
“I’ll write a strongly worded letter outlinin’ all me concerns. Miles Kane: excessive attachment to burpees, too good at his job that makes the other trainers look rubbish in comparison, uses blatant bribery to get an extra set out of clients. Oh, and distractingly attractive.”
Miles’s eyes were fixed on Alex as he completed his set. “I believe the term was distractingly sexy, but I’ll let you have the rest. Flatterer. Speakin’ of, how are things going with Adam? You enjoy your meal the other night?”
Alex sighed. “Yeah but…” He’d desperately wanted to talk to Miles and get his opinion on the whole confusing situation. But now he had the chance, Alex had no clue how to broach the subject. Even if he could share what was on his mind, it was surely inappropriate. And would Miles be able to give any kind of meaningful advice? Regardless, Alex found himself wanting to open up to Miles, as always. Miles just had that calm and reassuring presence that made Alex feel totally at ease, cared for, and above all, safe; it wasn’t only his looks and charm that Alex found impossible to resist. “Next exercise somewhere quieter maybe?”
“Course, let’s see if the studio’s free.” Miles led them across the gym and peeped around the dividing wall. “Yep, in here.” Miles grabbed a pair of dumbbells, passing them to Alex, and then as usual, a heavier pair for himself. “Curls.”
Alex took a deep breath, focusing on the blue-tinged spot between their reflections in the mirror opposite as he started to curl. “We actually had a really good time – he’s clever, and funny, and we have loads in common. We spent hours talkin’ and then went to bed.” Alex glanced to his right but Miles’s expression was neutral, fixed on his own reflection as he worked out. “Sleep, I mean. It was nice. Then Friday – yesterday, but feels like forever ago – I woke up and thought… You know.” Alex glanced at Miles again who had dropped his weights and was watching Alex’s form carefully in the mirror. Alex put his dumbbells down. It had been a bad idea to bring things up. He shouldn’t have said anything.
“It’s alright.” Miles was making eye contact through the mirror, and his gentle, patient smile made Alex want to crawl into his arms and sob. “You can tell me anythin’, promise I won’t judge.” Miles picked his dumbbells up again and Alex followed suit.
They’d shared so much in just a few short weeks, and only a couple of days ago they’d been making crude and suggestive jokes about sex – they did it all the time – but this was different. This was a new level of vulnerability, and after being so viciously rejected for years by Rob, and then by Adam, it was a risk. What if Miles laughed, or didn’t understand, or thought the details were unpalatable at best? But Miles wasn’t cruel. Maybe he really could be a friend for life. A keeper.
“Thank you I… I woke up rested and felt like switching things up a bit, if you know what I mean.” Alex glanced over at Miles’s reflection, watching him nod, relieved he didn’t need to elaborate, “but it didn’t go down well, shall we say.”
“Right, I’m so sorry to hear that. Are you okay?” Miles was all quiet concern, and compassion, and how could Alex have ever doubted his reaction? Miles was wonderful.
“Oh physically yeah, I’m fine, he wouldn’t, you know… Anyway, reckon I could fend him off with a couple of jabs if necessary thanks to you.” Alex tried his best to lighten the tone but Miles wasn’t smiling.
“And emotionally?” Miles’s gaze was searching, even through layers of reflection, as if trying to decide if Alex was being truthful or simply minimising his feelings.
“I mean on paper, we’re a great match. Same interests, attraction, sex is good. Or was. I…” Alex dropped his weights. “All that stuff we were joking about, Fifty Shades and all that. Not sayin I’m Christian Grey or owt, but it’s good to be flexible. Versatile, you know? And he’s just not receptive to it at all. We had a big row. Mean I went through it all for years with Rob, me ex.” Alex saw Miles’s face furrow, and was sure he heard a muttered obscenity or two. “He was horrible, obviously.” Alex heard Miles decisively mutter the word “cunt” before raising his brow. “But that was just one thing off a long list of things, problems. I can see that now.” Alex sighed. “I do feel like me and Adam would be compatible. Are compatible. Is it worth throwing something away that has potential over one disagreement?” Alex turned to face Miles, needing to see his reaction up close, glean his thoughts from the beauty of his eyes without the distortion of fogged, grimy glass. “I feel like I don’t trust meself, trust me own judgement to know what’s best. I put up with so much shit for so long, I don’t know if I’m being overly cautious, or if I’ve just been eroded. Like me sense of self and boundaries have been worn down over time to accept any old bullshit people put to me.”
Miles smiled, a tiny, almost sad smile. “Oh, Alex.” A look of confused pity. Great. Should’ve kept me mouth shut.
“Sorry, just blurtin’ a load of shit out at you, we barely know each other, you don’t want to know all this. I…” Alex was pulled into Miles’s strong arms, his arms sliding around Miles’s back on instinct, and the scent of his cologne, his hair product, his body wash, his skin. The combination was overwhelmingly soothing and Alex allowed his fraught mind to slow down, just for a second. A beat. Miles was comforting him. Wanted to listen. Wanted to help. All too soon, Miles was stepping back and Alex realised he’d been grasping Miles’s t-shirt between his fingertips. Trying to cling onto this feeling of safety. Of being heard and understood. Something he hadn’t felt with Adam. Or with Rob. Or any previous partner. Something he hadn’t felt this intensely in years.
“I do want to know, course I do. Whatever you want to share.” Miles’s expression was sheer kindness and patience and so sincere it made Alex’s heart ache. He took a breath.
“Thank you. Me other mates are… not as open minded as you. I know you can’t offer much advice on the ins and outs, if you like, but… I’d really value your opinion.”
Miles nodded. “So there’s a couple of things here. You’ve been seein’ Adam, what two weeks or somethin’? So it’s very early days, think you’ll agree. You’re bound to have differences of opinion now and again. But what matters is how you resolve them and if you can get past ‘em. Is he willing to talk about it again, does he understand why it’s important to you? Is it a no for now, or a no forever?”
Alex paused. “I mean he seemed pretty adamant, but maybe he’s had a bad experience in the past, I dunno. I have plenty issues of me own as you’re well aware, so not really one to comment.”
“Right. Also, you need to consider how important sex is to you. If he’s not willing to let you switch things up, ever, will you have a truly fulfilling sex life? Is it going to be a dealbreaker?” These were exactly the questions that had been plaguing Alex; he’d somehow known Miles would be able to help and give him the balanced view he needed.
Alex nodded. “You’re right. It’s like, comin’ here, meetin’ you, boxing, all that. Made me realise how much I missed that side of myself. Like it’d been squashed, and suppressed. Worn down. Locked away, almost, against me own will. And yeah, sex is important; not just the fun but the emotional connection. I want someone to be that vulnerable with me in return.”
Miles looked away, a slight pinkness tinging his cheeks. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, nodding slightly before turning back to face Alex. “There’s your answer then. Have a chat with him and see where you get. If you don’t see eye to eye, well… there’s plenty of men out there who’d kill for the chance, trust me.”
Alex smiled. “Might be one or two of unsound mind, who knows? But thank you. Havin’ this conversation, even you huggin’ me. Made me realise that’s how he should have responded, even if he didn’t understand. You’re too good for this world, Miles.” Alex got the irrational urge to take Miles’s face in his hands and kiss him, right here, in the blue-tinged gloom of the studio. Not through lust, or adrenaline, or need. But in gratitude. As a way to express how meaningful Miles’s advice and friendship and kindness truly were. And even though his feelings would never be reciprocated, Alex wanted Miles to feel his love, in any and every way possible. Instead, Alex settled for nudging his right hand gently into Miles’s left; just a brief brush of knuckles. A physical acknowledgement of his thanks.
“Oh, shush. Only tryin’ to get out of the next exercise.” Miles was grinning, and he nudged Alex, as if trying to detract from the blush sweeping across his face. “And as for your judgement, it’s natural to doubt yourself after what you’ve been through, course you’re gonna second guess yourself sometimes. But trust yourself, listen to your gut. Deep down, you know you deserve the best, someone really special who can give you everythin’ you want and need. It might be Adam, it might be someone else. But you’ll figure it out.”
“That mean whoever this mystery man is’ll let me eat unlimited peanut butter out of the jar? It’s what I want and need.”
Miles laughed. “I swear, you’re obsessed. And no, not if I have my way.”
“Spoilsport. Should’ve seen it coming really though. With Adam, I mean. When has goin’ for me usual type ever worked out?”
“I s’pose stickin’ to a type doesn’t work, until one day, you’re with someone forever. And they’ve either been like people you’ve dated in the past but better, or totally the opposite. But because they’re forever, they’ve now become your type. Know what I mean?”
“Makes sense.” Alex paused. Kissing Miles wouldn’t work, Alex had already decided that. But Miles needed to know how much Alex appreciated everything he’d done. How much he’d changed Alex’s life, in just a few short weeks. “Thank you. For everything. Honestly, you’ve no idea what you’ve done for me and how much it’s helped. Just by bein’ you. Wish I could make it up to you somehow.”
“You really are tryin’ to get out of your workout again.” They laughed. “But the business plan, you’re already massively helping me out. And never mind that, it’s just what you do, when you care about someone.” Miles looked away, his gaze eventually flickering back to Alex’s face.
“Well all the same, feels above and beyond friendship. And I’m really grateful.”
Miles looked a bit uncertain. Tentative. “Well, about that…” Miles rubbed the back of his neck.
“Wait. You said on Thursday, you’d sent me a message last week, after you’d left mine?”
Miles swallowed. “Yeah, the one you didn’t get. Signal issue.”
“Only I did get a message from you on Friday. I saw it flash up just as I got to Adam’s but I didn’t get chance to open it.” Alex patted his pocket for his phone, trying to grasp at his thoughts.
“Oh.” Miles moppedd his brow with the back of his hand, nudging his headband. “Maybe you accidentally swiped to delete, I’ve done it before. You didn’t miss much, promise.”
“Adam,” Alex said. It was starting to fall into place. “I left my phone in the kitchen when we went upstairs, only I went first. He must have seen a man’s name flash up on my phone, gone in, and deleted the message. What a prick.”
“Maybe. I mean… don’t jump to any conclusions. You’re talkin’ to him about stuff anyway yeah? Why not just ask him?”
“The sexual compatibility had basically sealed it for me, but this? Nah. It were only casual anyway. He’d never even seen Blade Runner.” Alex scoffed. “When we get back to mine, I’ll ring him.”
“Right.” Miles adjusted his headband, long fingers flexing. “Well as long as you’re sure and you’re doing what’s best for you.”
“Feel like I have so much love to give, you know? Why waste it on someone that doesn’t deserve it?”
-
The rest of the session flew by, with Alex riding high on his wave of empowerment. Miles would never want him, but he didn’t have to settle for the likes of Adam, or Rob. He’d find someone who’d treat him with as much kindness, care, and respect as Miles always had.
Miles had seemed impressed with Alex’s progress since their last arms session together and he’d suggested a few tweaks to the workout plan, to capitalise on Alex’s new found strength. But more importantly, Miles seemed much more like his usual self – smiling, and cracking jokes. He’d excused himself to shower and get changed (sadly there’d be no chance to catch him semi-naked in the spare room today, but it was probably for the best; Alex would need all of his faculties to give Miles proper advice, rather than being distracted by thoughts of smooth skin and a twitching towel) and had even done a quick lap around the gym to empty the overflowing buckets, top up the cleaning supplies and slap the laminated signs onto the broken equipment, to stop the hundredth gym goer from clambering onto a machine, pressing every button and shuffling away huffing when nothing happened.
They fell into easy chatter on the way to Alex’s, with Miles bashfully admitting he hadn’t seen Blade Runner either; “’s fine, just means we can watch it together” and wasn’t much of a reader but really should give it a proper go; “that means I can recommend you some stuff, will lend you ‘em too, if you want” and before long, they were slipping their shoes off, closing Alex’s front door behind them.
“I’ll just get a quick shower, feel free to make yourself a coffee, help yourself to the biscuits, anythin’ you want. Basically make yourself at home then we’ll make a start.”
“Sound. When do I get me trip upstairs, to see the master bedroom?” There was that mischief that was so at home in Miles’s eyes.
“Easy, tiger. Not until the third visit, I’m not that kinda man.” Alex laughed. “Actually, guess I am that kinda man after the last week. Whoops. Back in a minute.”
Alex tried not to dwell on what Miles must think of him as he quickly showered and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He phoned Adam and mercifully the conversation was fairly short; Adam didn’t seem too bothered and Alex was confident he’d made the right decision.
He headed downstairs to see Miles stood in the kitchen, mugs and pig biscuit jar at the ready, waiting for the coffee machine to finish chuntering, or brewing, or whatever it actually did.
“It’s done. He’s gone. Adam I mean.” Alex was surprised by the wobble in his voice, despite his relief.
“I’m sorry,” Miles said, turning away from the counter. “How did it go?”
“It were fine, no need for vituperation and luckily I didn’t get any either.”
“Sorry?” Miles said again, a puzzled look on his face.
You sound so stupid. “Ah, that’s me using a poncy word. It didn’t turn nasty, so that’s that.”
“Love a new word, you’ll have to write it down for me. But…are you alright?” Miles put his hand on Alex’s arm in his lovingly, soothing way and this is what Alex craved. Care, and attention, and respect. Why couldn’t Miles just be attracted to him? How would another man ever live up to this impossible standard? Was it really such an impossible standard?
“Yeah… yeah. All good.” Alex looked up and smiled. “Done the hard bit now, getting back out there. So next time should be easier. I say easier, slightly less terrifyin’, at least. I hope.”
“You’ll be fine, just trust yourself, and your instincts, yeah?” Miles squeezed Alex’s bicep. “You’ll sweep any man you want off their feet with these arms o’ yours.”
Alex laughed. “That’s optimism for you. Maybe one day.” Alex’s mind wandered dangerously to whether he’d be able to pick Miles up, or if Miles could lift him off his feet, holding him in place against the wall as they lost themselves in each other. Surely Miles would be an athletic god in the bedroom… “Shall we make a start?” Alex dragged himself out of his hopeless musings and carried their mugs and the biscuit jar over to the kitchen table that was set up, complete with an array of paper, pens, a laptop, a calculator. Everything except for…
“Wait, where’s your super sexy accountancy outfit? I was promised glasses and a pocket protector.” Miles was looking expectantly at Alex, as if he expected Alex to whip off his clothes behind a billowing curtain like a quick change artist.
“Trust me, the words “sexy” and “accountancy” don’t belong in the same sentence.” Alex sat down at the kitchen table. “I wouldn’t want to put you through the horror of seein’ me in one of me boring suits. You can have casual, off the clock, moonlightin’ accountancy Alex instead.” Alex gestured to his outfit.
“Works for me,” Miles said, taking a seat next to Alex and unpacking paperwork from his bag.
“And pretty sure pocket protectors are only a thing in films – sorry to ruin your illustrious fantasies about accountants. Although,” Alex picked up his glasses from next to the laptop. “I do need these for screens. Get eye strain without ‘em. And crows feet probably.”
“My sexy accountant fantasy lives on. Snap.” Miles produced a pair of curved, tortoiseshell patterned glasses out of his bag and slipped them on. “Wear contacts mostly, but me eyes were tired. Took ‘em out before.”
“Nice. They suit you.” And wasn’t that an understatement. Miles looked as effortlessly gorgeous as every chic model on an optician’s website, cast in the hope of convincing the average person they too could look like this if only they’d stump up the cost for designer frames.
“Ta. Don’t like wearin’ em much, I tell meself it’s ‘cos they’re impractical in the gym, and they are. But I’m a bit self conscious. Figured you wouldn’t mind.” Miles shrugged and put his hand to his head, as if he was smoothing his headband into place. Alex watched him realise he wasn’t wearing it, and try to pass it off as a forehead scratch.
“My sexy assistant fantasy has been given a new lease of life. Come on Assistant Kane, time to surrender your financials.” Alex held out his hand in a grabbing motion and watched a twinge of something cross Miles’s face; presumably the thought of having to share so much personal information.
Alex backtracked. “You don’t have to show me in depth if you don’t want to. Just need an idea of how much you have to invest so we can figure out how much you’ll need to borrow, if you do.”
“Oh, it’s alright, got nothin’ to hide. Wasn’t sure how much you’d need so got some statements printed from different bank accounts.” Miles passed them over.
Alex skimmed through the first few documents. “No sneaky Babestation addiction then?”
Miles laughed. “All on me credit card, love.” He looked away.
“Wonder if that’s still goin’. I used to be proper mad about it, where were Boystation for me to wank over growing up?” Alex laughed and put his head in his hands. God. Miles definitely does not want to think about you getting off. “Sorry.”
“Boystation, that’s Ronan Keating’s band right?” Miles grinned, and there was his magical gift; always knowing exactly what to say to offer reassurance and diffuse any awkwardness. If I could just have a bisexual version of Miles Kane…
“Summat like that. So I’ve made a list of outgoin’s, some are one-off, some are ongoin’ like bills. See what you think and we can add any I’ve missed.” Alex moved his laptop to the middle of the table.
Miles leaned in, peering at the spreadsheet and Alex steeled himself against the oncoming wave; yes, Miles did smell even better than earlier during their brief hug. “That a new cologne? ‘S good.” So subtle. Idiot. Now things were officially over with Adam, Alex’s brain and seemingly all of his self control had decided to switch off, turning him back into the blushing fool he’d been weeks ago. But it made no sense. Miles was no more available just because Alex wasn’t seeing anyone.
Miles looked over, puzzled. “No, just one of me usuals. Ta though.” He went back to the spreadsheet. “So this is the estimate I’ve got for repairs and maintenance, if we add a line in for equipment maintenance as well.”
“That include lightbulbs and associated duties?” Alex smiled, thinking back to just last week when he’d saved Miles from a potentially nasty injury but had led to a great night, despite its abrupt ending.
“Won’t be a rusty ladder in sight. No need to catch me.”
“I am disappointed. Biscuit?” Alex lifted the pig’s head and held the jar out to Miles.
Miles looked down and plucked three biscuits from the jar. “Chocolate hobnobs? Alex…”
Alex huffed. “Alright biscuit police. Still within me calorie count.”
“God, no, I meant me. Bit of a fiend for ‘em, especially if I’m doin’ something tricky like all these numbers.” Miles put his biscuits in a little pile in front of him. “You must think I’m horrible.”
“No, it’s me. Got a bit defensive. Used to bein’ criticised about food. About most things to be honest.” Alex shrugged and put the jar down.
Miles picked the jar back up and held it out. “Go on. Each biscuit is a good old “fuck you”. And that’s coming from Trainer Miles and Outside Miles.”
“Well if you’re twistin’ me arm.” Alex smiled and took a couple of biscuits. “Not sure what your rent would be but I put this in as an estimate.” He placed the biscuits next to his coffee mug.
“Little bit lower. I’ve already made some enquiries and reckon if I flutter me lashes enough, he might drop the price a bit further.” Miles grinned, in that slightly self assured, incredibly attractive way of his. This isn’t getting any easier.
“Usin’ your god-given talent to your advantage, eh? If it works, it works I s’pose.” Alex had clearly given up any pretence of being subtle.
“Should bring you with me next time to really seal the deal.”
Alex took a sip from his mug. “I’d slow you down, he’d put the price back up even further. Maybe have that photoshoot on standby, as Plan B. Though really, feels like more of a nuclear option.”
Miles laughed. “Played my hand too early, I let you see the big guns straight off. Me secret weapon.”
Alex bit back a myriad of inappropriate responses about weapons, and arsenals and exactly how big Miles’s gun was, and instead, took a bite out of his biscuit. “D’you find it uncomfortable, getting so much attention? From men as well as women, I mean.”
“No, I mean it’s good for business, good for the ego too obviously. But even so, why would I mind?” Miles genuinely seemed puzzled.
“I s’pose you are pretty open-minded. You’ve never had an issue trainin’ me when…” Alex stuffed the rest of his biscuit in his mouth and tried not to choke on it. How were you going to finish that sentence? I fancy you something rotten. I’m basically obsessed with you. Bloody fool.
Miles straightened his mug on the table. “When what?”
Alex took a sip of coffee, trying desperately to prolong his thinking time. “Well I’m gay ain’t I?”
“Yeah…” Miles gestured, clearly waiting for Alex to elaborate.
“It’s never bothered you. So, you’re alright with all that stuff. I don’t mean… I mean… you’re not offended by it. Not that you want it, or encourage it, obviously.” Alex’s face was burning. Stop rambling.
“Right. Course I’m alright with people bein’ gay. Especially you.” Miles smiled and nudged Alex gently in the arm with his elbow.
“Oh, well, thanks.” Alex relished in the warmth of Miles’s touch and tried not to make it too obvious. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe having a gay friend was fashionable again? Alex pushed his hair off his face and went back to the laptop. “Not sure of the size of your space, but I’ve put estimates in here for bills, based on other clients with similar businesses. I’ve adjusted for different seasons too, more heating on in winter and all that. Equipment. I had a quick Google and blimey some of that stuff’s expensive. Did you say you know someone? Through the client that fancies you was it? Don’t s’pose that narrows it down much though.” Alex ignored the prickle of absurd jealousy at his scalp. We’ve been through this loads brain, everyone fancies Miles. The client could even be Anna. Alex tried not to picture Anna offering Miles access to reconditioned gym equipment in exchange for her use of equipment of a different kind. You’re being ludicrous. And jealous. Pack it in.
“Not particularly, no,” Miles said, a small smile on his face. “What can I say, I’m a man of the people. But yeah. I’ve got a lump sum for equipment.” Miles leaned closer to update the spreadsheet, brushing Alex’s fingers that were hovering over the keyboard. Alex withdrew his hand, heart thudding, and turned his attention to his calculator, thrashing away as if every jab of a button could slow the racing thoughts in his mind.
“What’s that poor thing done to ya, eh?” Miles was looking over, amused.
Alex patted his calculator gently in apology. “Takes a bashin’ at end of tax year, it’s used to me meltdowns. I placate it by givin’ it a nice pat now and again, a good wipe down, and a battery change.”
Miles laughed. “No idea if you’re actually bein’ serious, but I really hope you are. You’re dead special, Alex. One of a kind.”
“Aye, special is one way to describe me.” Alex paused. “You know, most of me mates call me Al, should’ve said ages ago.”
“That what you prefer? Want me to call you Al?” It was sexy in Miles’s clipped, acidic delivery, though really everything Miles said was. But there was just something about the way Miles said his name – Alex – that was soothing and titillating all at once and Alex loved how Miles’s delivery changed in different situations. From a coy challenge when Miles said something unknowingly suggestive, to a slightly lower rumble in Miles’s warning voice and even to a high pitched playfulness when Alex made a saucy comment of his own and Miles burst into laughter, swatting at his arm. It would be a shame to lose that for the sake of a two lettered, commonplace nickname that was used by all and sundry.
“Alex is fine, unless you have a particular preference.” Not to mention that Miles was the only person to call him Alex. It was something that was just theirs. Something from Miles, just for Alex, even though it was insignificant, and it definitely didn’t mean anything.
“I’ll stick to it then, used to calling you Alex now.” Miles shrugged.
“What about you, got any nicknames?” Alex took a sip of coffee.
“Me?” Miles said, looking up from the laptop. “Hmm, not recently. An ex used to call me stud…”
Alex choked and dabbed at his mouth, coughing. He hadn’t been expecting that but now Miles had mentioned it…
Miles gave Alex “the look” as Alex had come to think of it; now not only in relation to encouraging him to push through an extra set, but also when Alex was intent on hopelessly pushing his luck in an entirely different way. “I was going to say, but it made me feel like a horse.”
“Less Danny Zuko and more Red Rum then? Wonder if Red Rum could’a made it through that funhouse?” Alex laughed.
“Nicknames can be cute though. Maybe one day, eh?” Miles had that wistful look in his eye, like several hours ago when they’d smoked together.
“Yep, you’ll be all loved up soon enough in matchin’ pyjamas that say King and Queen, or Honey and Bunny, or summat similarly disgusting.” Alex made a fake retching sound, trying desperately to obscure his jealousy. He’d tolerate any number of egregious nicknames Miles wanted to give him, without so much as a second thought.
Miles laughed. “I’m not that bad, give me some credit. I’d tell ya but… you know.” Miles shrugged and hunched over the laptop, his face turning pink.
“Sorry. Shouldn’t make fun. ‘M only jealous and insecure. I’ll be happy for you, promise, disgusting pet names and all.” How did Alex keep managing to put his foot in it? “Keep goin’ through the figures, back in a sec.” Alex left the room and went upstairs, sinking down onto his bed. He took his glasses off and buried his head in his hands, fingers raking through his hair.
Maybe he should just tell Miles how he felt. It would make things awkward for a few weeks but… at least it would be over and done with. Coming clean might even be cathartic; Miles would let him down gently but firmly and then they could work their way back to friendship. Their relationship would be stronger in the long run, surely. Alex took a deep breath. He could do it now but… what if Miles left? What if it put him off working on his new business due to discomfort? Selfishly, Alex wanted to have some more one on one time with Miles away from the gym before things changed between them. If Alex confessed, there’d be no more flirting. No more near the knuckle jokes. No ridiculous innuendos. I can’t keep going on like this. I’ll do it. It’s for the best. Soon.
“Alright?” Miles looked up as Alex slid the kitchen door closed.
“Yeah. All good.” Just be normal. Or failing that, at least act like you usually do around Miles. Like a bloody moron.
“Made you another coffee. Rest of the figures were pretty much spot on what I had, some I hadn’t even thought of. Added a couple more things down here too. Honestly Alex, thanks so much.” Miles squeezed Alex’s shoulder as he sat back down at the table.
“Glad to help. I’ll take payment in coffee and therapy sessions, naturally. Now let’s have a look at your bottom line if that’s okay.”
“At least buy me dinner first,” Miles’s fingers were light on Alex’s arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and what were they doing again? Had Miles made a joke?
“I’ll cook, if you want. Actually got food in today.” It was better when you sounded horny; this is just sad. And desperate.
“I was joking, you know, bottom line? Like one of your accountancy jokes.”
“Right, course, you’ve got plans, obviously.” Idiot. Of course Miles was busy. And even if he wasn’t, he had much better things to do than…
“I’ll cook. ‘S only fair. If me brain’s still in one piece after all this, that is. Might have to resort to a takeaway.”
“Miles Kane, renowned personal trainer suggesting a takeaway? I’m flabbergasted.” Alex opened the secret drawer in the kitchen table and produced a pile of menus, spreading them out with a flourish. “For emergencies only, naturally.”
“This hardly constitutes an emergency. Me bein’ brain dead. More of a regular occurrence.”
“I very much doubt that. You have a lovely brain.” What on earth? “An unforeseen circumstance, then. A special occasion.”
“Calm down,” Miles laughed. “And unflabber your gaster, we’re getting a takeaway. Trainer’s choice, mind.”
“Before you go gettin’ any ideas they don’t do takeaway salads. Anyway, they’re banned in this house.” Alex tapped the table with his finger, in an effort to seem authoritative.
Miles waved Alex away. “We’ll decide later, no rush.”
“Sure. “Tell me about it, stud.”” Alex was doubled over in laughter as Miles whacked him with the takeaway menus, his bank statements, Alex’s notebook. Anything he could get his hands on.
“Mercy, Miles, god. Alright, you’re not a stud. You’re…” As always, Alex had no clue how to finish his sentence.
“I’m what?” Miles was looking on, curiously, that hint of challenge back in his eye.
“Y’know.” Alex gestured vaguely in Miles’s direction.
“No, not really.” Miles was waiting, a small smile in place and Alex was sure they’d been here before. Why couldn’t Miles just let it go?
Amazing. Gorgeous. Wonderful. Perfect. “Great. Not sure how much nickname potential it has though. ‘M sure your girlfriend’ll think of summat you like.”
“Right, yeah.” Miles glanced down at the crumpled pile of takeaway leaflets. “You haven’t ordered from these have you?” Miles picked up a garish green and yellow one.
“Not for a while no, and not that one. Think Rob – me ex – did. Why?”
“Look,” Miles held it up, pointing at the photographs of the owners. “It’s the chicken men.”
Alex clapped his hand over his mouth and started to laugh hysterically. “I remember now, not long before we broke up he kicked off about what I’d cooked and wouldn’t eat it so he got a takeaway. Spent the next two days shittin’ himself and it felt like karma. Now it feels bloody miraculous. Maybe I were too harsh on ‘em after all.”
“Every cloud, eh? Anyway, we need to get this work done before we start thinkin’ about food. I believe you wanted to see me bottom line?” Miles raised his eyebrow, eyes smouldering. God, what a tease.
“Reckon you’ll let me now I’m buyin’ dinner.” Alex shuffled through Miles’s bank statements, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
“No, I’m buyin’, you’ve done so much today already.” Miles was watching Alex skim through his income, Alex could feel it. “I know we’ve got the hard stuff to talk about still, and yes, I’m sure you have about twenty jokes in response to that… what’s wrong?”
Alex had paused, momentarily stunned. “Nothing, just think one of your other papers got mixed in by mistake. Already seen it by the time I realised, sorry. Here. Good to keep on you, I s’pose.” Alex passed the sheet of paper over to Miles and tried not to let his face burn with embarrassment and jealousy. Miles’s sexual health screening from a week ago. At least he won’t be giving you anything in your ridiculous fantasies.
“Oh, I, err…” For once, Miles seemed to be the flustered one. “Sorry, I don’t know how that got in there…”
“It’s fine.” Alex waved it away, trying his best to seem unaffected. Of course Miles was having sex; even if he’d been telling the truth when he’d said he wasn’t dating, there’d still be a queue of women after him and he had needs. Stop being so unreasonably jealous. It’s none of your business. You should be happy for him. Alex turned his efforts to trying to make Miles feel less uncomfortable. “Had mine done last week and all, but got the results on me phone. Surprised a technically savvy man such as yourself hasn’t got it there instead.”
“Wanted the belt and braces approach, yeah? If me phone dies, it’s there in black and white.” Miles laughed, and thankfully he seemed a bit more at ease.
“I’d make a joke about slippin’ into something more comfortable, but you know.” Alex nudged Miles with his elbow and they laughed, all the awkwardness melted away, and the jealousy tempered. “I never… With Adam I mean. Didn’t get to trust him enough. So, results still stand.” Miles does not want to know this, shut up.
“Good to know.” Miles was nodding as if distracted; something was clearly on his mind.
“Sorry, oversharin’’s a bit of a bad habit o’ mine, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Always on the back foot, one step behind.
“Alex…”
“But you’re me mate, and more understanding than the rest, so… Yeah.” Alex took a sip of his coffee, then another, in an effort to keep his mouth busy and prevent something else ill-advised tumbling out past his lips.
“Alex…” Miles opened his mouth and shook his head, as if lost for words.
“Bound to happen. Change of topic then I promise we’ll get back to your very pretty bottom line; can I try your glasses on? I have to know if the tortoiseshell makes me look more or less like a boring accountant. Swap?” Alex slipped his glasses off and waited, watching Miles sigh again and do the same. They swapped frames and Alex blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to Miles’s prescription. “What do you reckon?”
“Think yours suit you better, but neither pair make you look borin’. You just look like… Alex. And that’s more than enough. The best, in fact.” Miles’s smile was so heartfelt and genuine, Alex could only manage a peek before he had to look away. “How ‘bout me?”
Alex looked back, trying to ignore the twinge in his chest and he forced his voice around the lump in his throat. “Suit you. I reckon everything does. But yeah, think you made the right choice. Can’t see a lot though, mind, so…” Alex laughed and despite everything, the twinge in his chest eased slightly. Even though Miles would never know exactly how much his words meant, no matter how often Alex tried to verbalise it, Alex still hoped Miles had an inkling of some kind. Alex tried his best to transmit his gratitude through the ether, willing Miles to understand what he couldn’t formulate into a sentence.
Miles smiled back, and they were looking at each other, eye to eye, just for a beat. Alex somehow knew Miles understood everything he felt. Possibly even better than he understood himself. Miles looked away, back down at the bank statements. “Can’t see much either. Better swap so your eyes have the best view of me bottom line.” Miles took Alex’s glasses off and handed them over with a wink.
“Thanks. Here’s yours.” Alex passed them back, watching Miles slip them onto his pretty face. Everything Miles did was somehow photoshoot worthy. Alex blinked a few times, pinching himself under the table in an effort to focus. “So I have to say, your bottom line looks pretty healthy to me. Lookin’ at this total here,” Alex pointed at the screen, “your projected, worse case scenario income here, and your savings, allowing a safety net of say, ten percent?” Alex tapped on his calculator, holding it up. “This is roughly what I’d recommend you borrow, and with a fixed rate, worst case, you could pay it back, including interest, within eighteen months. Course, who am I to say, and you might want more of a buffer, or contingencies, but yeah.”
Miles took the calculator from Alex’s hand, and Alex felt heat flicker up his spine as their fingers brushed. “That seems…” Miles looked up at Alex, awestruck. “That seems, really doable? Like too good to be true. Can we run the numbers again?”
“Of course. Without blowin’ me own brass section, ‘m pretty good at this stuff but there’s always chance of errors. Let’s go through the list then. Make sure you’re happy with your take home and that it’s enough to live on comfortably. Need enough to maintain your six pack after all.” Emboldened from the way Miles was looking at him, Alex let his hand drift across Miles’s abs, and they felt just as gloriously tight through smooth cotton as they had last week. Whoever got to see that sexual health screening was extremely lucky…
“I’ve been dreaming of this, can’t believe it’s finally happenin’.” Miles looked at Alex, positively beaming, those gorgeous, honeyed eyes sparkling, and had Alex’s brain short circuited, or were his wildest dreams somehow coming true? Alex leaned in, his hand inching lower towards the hem of Miles’s t-shirt, feeling the gentle rise and fall of taught muscle under his fingertips… “Me very own gym.”
Alex came careening down to earth and he sat back in his chair, hand gently withdrawing and settling in his lap. Absolute dickhead. He rearranged his face into what was hopefully a pleased expression. Thankfully, Miles hadn’t seemed to notice anything had been amiss.
“Dreams do come true.” Just not mine. “You’ve worked so hard for it, you deserve it. I’m made up for you.” Alex couldn’t wait to watch Miles open his very own business, be on hand to help as his first client, his accountant, his friend. It was definitely the right decision to let his feelings go. It was time. I’ll just be greedy for tonight. Indulge myself for a few more hours. Alex let his hand rest gently on Miles’s arm. “Your whole family’ll be so proud, all your mates. And your nan.”
“Me nana would’ve loved it. She…” Miles took a breath. “Yeah. Thanks Alex. For everythin’. Would’ve had no clue where to start without ya.” Miles’s smile was shy, and soft and Alex could see Miles’s vulnerability, something he kept so tightly locked away from the outside world, only he’d given Alex the honour of a glimpse after just a few brief conversations. Alex ached to pull Miles into his arms and tell him how proud he was, and how they felt more like soulmates than friends even after less than a month of knowing each other, and how truly wonderful and special he was. That he deserved the world. And Alex would surely give it to him if only Miles so much as asked. If only he wanted the world from Alex.
Instead, Alex squeezed Miles’s arm. “Let’s go through these figures again then. I do believe your favourite client’s been promised a takeaway for all his hard work.”
-
After redoing the calculations several times, Miles still seemingly just as incredulous that his dream was becoming a tangible reality, they were both yawning and stretching, thoroughly worn out. Alex took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Felt like another day at the office, that. Only more dirty jokes and less sticky receipts.”
Miles laughed. “Sure I can make some receipts sticky for ya if you want.”
Alex shuddered. “Don’t. I handle ‘em all with gloves now.”
“You’re tellin’ me other accountants don’t make a dirty joke now and again? Alex, you’re proper ruinin’ me sexy accountant fantasy. Thought they’d all be like you, gorgeous people spending all day talking about the double entry system, and cheques and balances, and winkin’. Askin’ me if I want me books keepin’.”
“Hate to break it to you Miles, but it’s less Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader, more Ricky Gervais.” Alex ignored Miles’s errant phrasing; he hadn’t meant Alex was gorgeous, obviously. He definitely wasn’t. He was average at best.
“Spoilsport. Right, let’s have a look at these menus. Chicken men, no thank you.” Miles slapped the leaflet down on the table. “So we’ve got Chinese, Indian, pizza.”
“Pizza’s pretty good round here. They’re always textin’ me with offers, hang on.” Alex rummaged for his phone, scrolling through. “Here we go, two for one. Will feel less guilty if there’s two of us.” Miles raised his eyebrows and Alex backtracked. Miles was still his trainer after all. “Not that I’ve ever ordered two pizzas just for meself, of course…”
Miles laughed. “Only teasin’. Reckon we should eat and drink whatever we want tonight. Let’s celebrate.” Miles was glowing, clearly still high on the thrill of his dream becoming a reality. He pulled out his wallet. “Go and get relaxed on the sofa and order whatever you want, I’ll tidy the kitchen.”
“Willingly givin’ a gay man free rein of your credit card. Very brave. Or stupid.” Alex laughed. “I know we don’t do stereotypes, but, some of ‘em exist for a reason.” He stood up, stretching and was surprised when Miles pulled him into a tight hug. Alex’s heart lurched in shock but instantly slowed at the feel of Miles’s strong arms around him, long fingers pressing gently into his shoulder blades, intoxicating scent overpowering his nervous system.
Miles stepped back, blushing slightly. “Sorry, emotional day for me. Just… yeah. I’ll tidy this stuff up.”
“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Alex reached for Miles’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, allowing his thumb to brush over Miles’s knuckles, once, twice, before reluctantly drawing away. If their takeaway pizza was an indulgence, that simple act felt like the epitome of glorious sin. Not only that, it was calorie free. Alex was steadfast in his decision to confess to Miles – it was for the best – but he was going to take the opportunity to touch Miles and flirt with him as much as possible, before it was too late.
Pizza ordered and kitchen tidied, they were sat in front of the TV, beers in hand. “Next week we’ll get more into the business plan itself. This is where all your ideas and stuff’ll really come to the forefront. That and your passion, your assertiveness. Reckon you’ll be able to win the bank over no problem though.” Alex sipped his beer.
“And how’re you feelin’, confidence wise? You got rid of Adam pretty swiftly.” Was it Alex’s imagination, or did Miles sound pleased?
Alex nodded. “Yeah, I just knew it weren’t right, weren’t what I wanted long term so… Why put up with it? Might as well get what I want from the start.”
“Definitely. Know what you want, who you want, go out there, and get ‘em.” Miles was jabbing his finger in the air to make his point. If only it was that simple.
“You make it sound so easy. Bein’ gay definitely makes things more complicated. Been thinkin’, I’m like one of them on those reality datin’ shows.” Alex pointed at the TV to a Netflix trailer looping on mute; they’d been too engrossed in their conversation to decide what to watch. “They have two options. One they always say’s their type, just like all their exes. The other is the opposite, which usually means kind, and thoughtful, genuine. Maybe different looks wise too. And I’m sat at home on me sofa, shoutin’ at the TV “pick the nice one, your usual type’s horrible”. And here I was, on the verge of makin’ the same mistake. Stickin’ with the same dynamic that ruined me life, that I’m still recovering from. Stupid.” Alex shook his head, and shrugged.
Miles blinked a few times. “Yeah, know what you mean. You been back on the apps then, or bumped into anyone else?”
“Nah, nothing like that. Probably will soon though. Why?” Alex looked over to see Miles watching him, carefully.
“Oh, just you said about havin’ two options.”
“Right, yeah. One isn’t really an option though. Never will be. He’s just a friend. Will have to work up the courage to tell him, I reckon. Get it out in the open and move on.” It was for the best. Now it’s out there, out loud, I’ll have to see it through.
-
Miles felt like all of the air had been sucked from the room and he dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands to try and centre himself. Had Alex been talking about him? Surely not. He’d be talking about some other man he’d had a crush on, and now he’d realised his worth, felt confident in approaching.
Alex hadn’t seen that message Miles had sent, and if Adam had shared anything about it, Alex hadn’t let on. Pizza eaten, they were sat watching a film – Blade Runner – cosy in the post-dinner glow of fullness and alcohol, and Miles’s mind had been screaming at him for over an hour, advocating for both sides of the internal war he was waging. He has to be talking about you, who else is there? Don’t be ridiculous, of course he isn’t. How many times has he called you his friend? He just feels comfortable enough to flirt and be himself, finally. Take it as the win that it is.
“Miles?” Alex paused the film and was looking over intently, concern and confusion in his eyes.
“Sorry, love – err, Alex – what’s up?” Idiot. This was why Miles didn’t drink when his guard was already down, it left him wide open. Exposed to targeted hope and heartbreak.
“Are you okay? You’ve been kind of zoned out for a while there.” Alex nudged Miles’s hand gently and his heart actually fluttered in response. Bloody nightmare. “Did I blow your mind with too many facts and figures and questions before? Or was it too much pizza?”
“Somethin’ like that yeah. Me brain’s not the best at all that stuff so, that’s probably it. Pizza I can handle.” If only Miles could attribute his confusion to the hours they’d spent poring over his finances and scribbling out costs. On pain of death, Miles wouldn’t be able to remember any numbers, or estimates, or totals. His only presiding memories were the shyness he’d felt when he’d needed to slip his glasses on, Alex showering him in flirty compliments and even trying them on himself, asking if they made him look more or less like a boring accountant than his own thick frames. Miles could still feel the warmth from when they’d both reached for Alex’s calculator at the same time, fingers brushing, and it felt like every nerve ending in his entire body had come alight. Get it together.
But he couldn’t and back then had been even worse; instead of playing it safe and reaching for his phone calculator, Miles had continued to use Alex’s, feeling an innocent thrill and a rush of endorphins every time their fingers bumped and Alex apologised, hand backing away, a tinge of pink dotted across his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair, revealing the tip of his ear – a perfect pink point. Miles had been so overcome with emotion, giddy at the prospect of his dream coming true and had hugged Alex, felt his lean, toned body melt against his chest, felt the warmth of his skin. Every time Alex had touched his arm, his hand, his shoulder in reassurance, Miles had felt his heart skitter. And when Alex had let his fingers rove teasingly across Miles’s abs. God. No spin class, intense core workout, cold bath, or even mind altering substance could produce such a high.
Alex did like him – of course he did, he had from the very first time their eyes met at the entrance to the gym – it was blindingly, painstakingly, ludicrously obvious. How could Miles have ever second guessed himself? He had nearly let Alex slip away altogether but mercifully, Adam was out of the picture. But what should Miles do? Blade Runner was the antithesis to a romantic setting – Alex had used the word in the context of good and bad for business, and it had rolled so smoothly off the tip of his tongue with his blunt, Sheffield pronunciation, and fuck, Miles was hopeless, but he needed to focus – he could hardly lean in and make his move. Even if he did, where did he stand ethically, and morally? Yes their relationship leaned much more heavily towards friendship than trainer-client, and had done for a while, but Alex was still paying for a service. Should Miles wait seven weeks and selfishly hope Alex didn’t want any additional sessions before making a move? Seven weeks felt like an eternity – Alex was bound to have been snapped up by another lucky man by then. Should Miles try and track down the gym’s mythical HR department and clear it with them, hoping he didn’t get a bollocking in the process? That could take weeks too, and would likely present the same problem, or even rule out anything more than a friendship altogether. Fuck.
“You sure you’re okay?” Alex put his hand lightly on Miles’s arm, and Miles felt his heart rate accelerate for the twentieth time that day. Christ. It was like being a virgin again.
He glanced down at his arm. “Yeah, just, fuck, that replicant got it.”
“Right. As long as you’re alright?” Alex had no idea what he was doing, how much of an effect every look, every touch had on Miles. Or maybe he did, and he was waiting for Miles to crack and drag them upstairs, or maybe even give in to weeks of temptation right here on the sofa…
“Course. No better way to spend a Saturday night.” Miles smiled and immediately panicked he’d said too much, been too honest, but Alex’s face simply lit up in response. Alex really came to life when he was happy; smiling, laughing, flirting, or grinning, waiting for Miles to groan at one of his terrible jokes and this hadn’t been part of the plan. Falling for someone. What if Alex couldn’t catch him, what if it was inappropriate, what if Alex realised how boring, and uneducated, and stupid he was and…
Miles took a breath. One step at a time. Waiting seven weeks was too risky, as was going to HR. So his options were: do nothing and stay as friends, make a move and deal with the consequences, whatever they may be, or wait for Alex to make the first move.
Doing nothing was definitely not an option; destiny had to be seized, shaped and moulded by your own hands, and not knowing what could have been was so much worse than potential rejection. Miles had never lived his life by way of regrets or missed opportunities and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.
He could make a move, Blade Runner be damned. Or at the end of the film over another drink. Or it didn’t have to be tonight, it could be another time. Next Saturday? Before facts and figures, or after? Even a week felt like an eternity; every second of being sat on the sofa next to Alex made Miles want to spill his heart out; curl up in Alex’s arms or pull Alex into his. Give in to his deepest desires and finally kiss Alex – igniting weeks of sparking flirtation so intense, the whole house would go up in flames. The tension was mounting, and confessing was getting harder and harder to resist; another week of silence would be torture. But aside from the agony of Miles’s pent up feelings, even waiting a week came with the risk of Alex being won over by some nobhead from work, or at a coffee shop, or even in the gym. How ironic would that be?
Option three – wait for Alex to make a move. If options one and two felt too slow, option three would be positively glacial. Alex might never summon the courage to say anything; in their close calls – when Miles had thrown caution to the wind and almost given in to temptation – Alex had mentioned Adam, and then got up and left the gym in a hurry, declaring “we’re not on the same page”. They weren’t even reading the same fucking book. Or maybe they were, only Alex was still meandering at the introduction and Miles had rushed ahead, desperate to see how the story ended.
What if Miles got it wrong? Making a move now might startle Alex again, and ruin things altogether. Especially if he dared interrupt his beloved Blade Runner. But Alex had said something about confessing himself, what was it? “Get it out in the open and move on”. Maybe Miles could have the best of both worlds. They could go out, try that new smoothie place all the girls at the gym had been talking about. Miles would lay it on thick – with a trowel if he had to – until Alex got the message and simply couldn’t resist. As plans went it wasn’t perfect – there was still plenty of room for error – but the mere thought of having something in place settled Miles’s mind. He was being decisive. He was going to try his damnedest to get what he wanted – who he wanted – and if it didn’t work, well at least he’d put up a fight.
Miles settled back into the sofa cushions, finally feeling more relaxed, and Alex turned away from the TV, smiling warmly at Miles. God, he was gorgeous. They were like two fucking giddy schoolgirls with a crush on each other.
“Was thinkin’,” Miles said, “the girls have been ravin’ about this new smoothie place, been saying for weeks I need to try it. Got a rare day off tomorrow and we could go, if you fancy it? It’s just a short tube ride from here. Mean, it might all be online hype, but… Might be good.” Miles tried to appear calm and nonchalant, the antithesis to how he felt, his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest. There was that word again, Alex had well and truly invaded every corner, every crack of his brain…
“As long as you don’t make me drink anythin’ with kale in it. Never again.” Alex poked Miles in the chest, and Miles hoped Alex couldn’t feel his heart stumble. “Nearly brought me breakfast back up all over me desk.”
“No kale, promise. A smoothie of your choosin’, with as many or few fruits and vegetables as your heart desires.” Miles was hoping his facade of their usual jolly humour was convincing enough, as flimsy as it felt to him.
Alex grinned, and opened his mouth.
“And before you even think of tryin’ it on, peanut butter is not a fruit, nor is it a vegetable, so tough luck.” Miles poked Alex in the arm.
Alex sighed dramatically and giggled, nudging Miles with his elbow, and Miles immediately felt calmer. If things went as planned tomorrow, they could have this every day. All the time. Just making jokes, exchanging smiles, and laughter, shy glances and teasing nudges and suddenly, “eventually” settling down with someone was much too far away. Bloody Nora, maybe kiss him first before you mentally get a joint mortgage.
“Fine, fine. But know I’m agreein’ due to present company, rather than wantin’ a vegetable smoothie. You’re a very persuasive man, Miles.” Alex’s fingers were inching up Miles’s forearm.
“Anythin’ to spend more time with your devastatingly attractive mate, right?” Miles said. The plan was locked in, ready for tomorrow, but if Alex was feeling reckless from the beer and something happened here and now… Well, Miles wouldn’t exactly have anything to complain about.
“I thought it was devastatingly sexy, but,” Alex shrugged. “Tomatoes tomatoes right?”
“Don’t think they’d be good in a smoothie.” Miles snorted and Alex whacked him with a cushion, laughing. “Might try somethin’ with pineapple in, just in case, like.” This was safe, familiar ground; their silly innuendos and flirtatious banter was much easier on Miles’s heart than the casual devastation Alex’s hand on his arm or a brush of their fingers had been causing all afternoon and all evening.
“Oh don’t bother,” Alex waved his hand dismissively, “it’s a myth. Tried ‘em all. When you read into it, you’d have to eat about four whole pineapples for even one load to taste sweeter.”
“Fair enough. I’ll take it from the expert. Reckon eating that much pineapple’d ruin your tongue anyway. I need mine in one piece ta very much.” Miles winked. It wouldn’t hurt to start laying the groundwork now; subtlety was optional as always, when it came to each other.
“Expert? You insinuatin’ I’m some kind o’ professional cocksucker?” Alex’s eyes were wide and sparkling with that mischievous warmth Miles had grown so fond of in just a few short weeks, a look of fake indignation on his pretty face.
“Swallower supreme.”
“Sounds like a pizza. Dick drainer.”
“Jizz guzzler. Come connoisseur.”
“Now that makes me sound like a discernin’ critic. When really, I just take whatever I’m given.” Alex laughed and put his head in his hands. “God, I must sound dreadful. I know you don’t know anythin’ about it but…”
“No judgement from me. In fact…” Miles put his hand on Alex’s arm and leaned in, lips at his ear.
“Oh, Miles, look, this is the best part.” Alex grabbed Miles’s arm and pointed at the screen.
Bloody Blade Runner. Another opportunity missed. Miles sighed and tried to pay attention to the TV, relishing in the feel of Alex next to him, fingertips warm on his skin for the rest of the film.
Tomorrow then. Miles would lay everything on the line and Alex would fall into his arms. Where he belonged.
“Miles?” Alex turned the TV off, shuffling to face Miles.
“Yes, love?” There was no point trying to correct himself now; the term of endearment was effortless and Miles couldn't stop it from escaping. Anyway, Alex didn’t seem to mind.
“I need to tell you somethin’.” Alex took Miles’s hand and squeezed. “Summat important…”